She took a deep breath before taking the plunge and knocking on the front door. The door to Guzma's house. Surely his mom at least would recognize her from last time, right? She was counting on it, or else this was going to be very awkward.

There was a shuffle of feet on the other side before the door swung open, revealing his mother. Any worry she had of being recognized quickly vanished as her face lit up. "Oh, Guzma's friend! Alondra, right?"

"Yes, ma'am, that's me!" she beamed, ignoring the fact that it felt completely bizarre to call herself the ex-gang-leader's friend. "I was actually wondering if he was home." Lies, all of it. She knew he was gone, training with Hala, and even though it was a tiny white lie she still felt guilty telling it. Ugh, being secretive with this investigation was going to be difficult! Alondra had always been someone who told the truth as it was; she had no poker face to speak of and couldn't hide anything from anyone. There had been nothing she'd NEEDED to hide. Yet, here she was, for all intents and purposes being a stalker to get at Guzma's personal life. For a good reason, she assured herself, shifting restlessly.

"Oh, I'm sorry dear, he's out training with the Kahuna. Should be gone for a few weeks, the way he made it sound." Guzma's mom laughed. "He doesn't say much, certainly no descriptions, but isn't that just like a boy? Anyhow, I was so glad to hear he was going back to Hala. The man can clearly see Guzma's talent. Maybe with the right connections he can get him into the Battle Tree over on Poni. Oh, wouldn't Guzma love that! Battling every day for a living…" She shook her head, still smiling. "But anyhow, I'm afraid that doesn't help you right now, dear. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Well, it's just that Guzma lent me something of his, and I came to return it to him. Do you think I could leave it in his room for him?" Alondra held her breath. Her entire plan hinged on being allowed inside…

"I don't see why not, dear. Come on in." She stepped back, leaving the girl room to enter the house.

"Thank you, ma'am," she replied with a courteous nod. "I'll just be a moment." She hurried in the direction of his room, looking right and left to judge the situation. Much to her relief, it seemed that his dad was not at home. If anyone was going to be suspicious of her, it would be him.

Pushing the door open, she slipped inside. She couldn't close it, that would be too strange, so she made sure not to open it too far to allow herself some cover. First things first, she removed a letter from her pocket and set it on his pillow. If his mom told him she'd been there and left something, she'd better have left something. It simply said "I left this here as an excuse to come visit. Oops." Lying was not something she was keen on, and this was pretty much the truth even though it omitted quite a bit.

That being done, she quickly scanned the room. The bed was messy, unmade with the covers hanging half-off the bed from the last time he'd slept in it. There was a desk with a computer, though she imagined he now had his laptop that he'd brought on his trip with him. Seems he had one back in Po Town… Quick, what else was there? The clock was ticking before his mom got suspicious.

There. Near the window. A line up of trophies. Bronze and silver. That, she imagined, would have angered him. Or did he earn them at a time before he was so obsessed with winning? There was no time to read them all, so she whipped out her phone and snapped some pictures of the plaques. She could study them at her leisure. Then, having wasted enough time, she exited the room.

Guzma's mom was putting away dishes in the kitchen, so she had an extra moment to scan the house. The pictures she had seen already, but she couldn't help but stare at them again. Seeing him so happy was like seeing a whole different person. Unconsciously, she picked it up. He was what, like 11 in the picture? He had his challenge amulet clutched in his fist, but no Z bracelet or anything to mark his victories along the trials. It must have been the day he started out.

"I love that picture of him."

His mom's voice startled her out of her contemplation. "Yeah, he's not exactly the smiling type. That wouldn't be cool, you know? This makes me happy."

"Mmm, you're right. He really doesn't smile like that anymore. I wish I knew how to get him back to the way he was back then."

She swallowed, gathering her courage. "What do you think changed? I've only ever known him with that frown plastered on his face." You know, besides being a guy running a gang of Pokémon thieves and helping nearly cause an invasion of Ultra Beasts. Because that woman didn't believe he did any of that.

This was a question she wasn't sure would yield good answers. His mom seemed to make up whatever convenient truths would keep life fine and normal. The woman sighed heavily, hinting at something honest, something wrong. "Too much battling. I know it was his passion, but he has always been so serious about it. You'd think something he loves so much would bring him enjoyment, but he has this deep focus on being the best that I don't think he allows himself to. That and…" She paused, as if deciding whether she should continue. Alondra put on her best innocent face, hoping she looked like someone who could be trusted. "Maybe his father shouldn't have pushed so hard. As a parent, you want them to be the best, but…well, I guess hindsight is 20-20 after all."

That WAS a good bit of information: Guzma's father had been the driving force for his need to win. She remembered what Kukui had said when Guzma's dad was brought into question: didn't it make sense for him to be mad at his son after what he did? But this revelation brought into the picture the fact that it wasn't such a recent development… All those comments about things being wrong with himself. Taken with his father's sour attitude towards his son which may have been a constant in his life, the man could have potentially been the one introducing those phrases into his vocabulary. Maybe. This was just conjecture at this point.
She was so deep in thought that it took a while for her to realize the woman had gone silent. Alondra instantly felt bad, seeing the melancholy on her face. She'd brought it up, after all, and the woman had been so kind… It was only fair to reveal part of herself in exchange. "Well, that's how parents are, I guess. My dad pushed too, though he was pushing me AWAY from Pokémon. He believed it was for the best, that it was protecting me. Yeah, it caused me a lot of embarrassment, but I've thought about it, and I don't hold it against him."

"So that's why you were a late bloomer on the island challenge?"

"Yeah. He…passed away and we moved here to help us move on. That's when I was able to get started. My mom didn't agree with my dad about it and thought I should go my own path."

"Hmm, I see. It clearly did not ruin you, did it?" She seemed to brighten, as if the thought of Alondra getting past her dad's strict demands meant some kind of hope for Guzma.

"Anyhow, I love that Wimpod is right there with him," she changed the subject. "Not surprising at all! Those two are inseparable." Alondra tapped on the image where Wimpod sat perched on his shoulder. "It was his first Pokémon, right?"

His mom laughed. "It was. It shocked everyone, being that those critters are the most skittish things. What patience it must have taken to befriend one! Surprising, considering what a hot-headed boy he always was. None of us imagined he'd take Wimpod as his starting Pokémon."

"Did he always love bugs?"

"You know, he did. Strange, when you think about it. He was always so serious about winning, but he adopted some of the most fragile Pokémon, ones most trainers would never invest the time in." His mom looked thoughtful, but with a hint of pride. "I guess when you think of it that way, he couldn't have been concerned only with winning, right?"

Alondra hadn't considered this before, having always been pushed to her limits against him in battle, but his mom brought up a valid point. Before Masquerain was a death-dealing aerial attacker, it had been a flimsy-looking water spider that no one would have feared, much less taken seriously. Venomous and nimble Ariados had been a tiny Spinarak, common all over Melemele Island but typically only captured to complete a Pokedex and left forgotten in the storage boxes. And of course mighty Golisopod, the pinnacle of Guzma's team, had been that timid Wimpod that preferred to run rather than fight. Guzma had taken them all as they were and raised them into the powerful Pokémon they were now, and that likely took no small deal of patience and care. For a big bad gang leader, that didn't make any sense.

"Well, I can assure you, ma'am, those bugs are definitely anything but fragile now!" Alondra grinned, scratching her head. "He's about the hardest trainer to beat, and I've battled my fair share. And I can tell when they fight, they are unwaveringly loyal to him. That's maybe why he isn't just a good trainer, but a great one. I have a lot of respect for him there." And that was the truth. Even when he'd acted like a total jerk, even a bit psychotic, she'd marveled at his command of his Pokémon, which was never one of fear. She'd respected him as a trainer even if not as a person.

The compliment of her son made his mom fairly glow. "I'm glad to hear that. He's worked so hard to be a great trainer. Hearing him get some recognition…have you ever told him?"

The grin disappeared from Alondra's face. "Well, no…" Up to this point, it would be bizarre to praise her enemy. That and… "I feel like he wouldn't listen to me or take me seriously at all. When he thinks he's not doing well enough, he doesn't believe what anyone else says."

The glow likewise disappeared from the woman's face. "I understand. I see it too. But please, you have to tell him, at least try. He needs to hear it," she pleaded, expression grave. "He may act like the words don't reach him, but I think deep down they will have an effect."

"I will. I promise." She spoke without really thinking, something easier said than done. But Alondra was quickly realizing it was what she wanted, not just what his mom wanted.

"Thank you, dear. For being his friend. And for stopping by." A small smile returned to her face. "I appreciate it, and I truly feel he does even if he won't say it. Please believe that."

Could she believe that? That Guzma actually cared about her besides as an opponent to crush, one who had embarrassed him time and time again by defeating him in front of his underlings and boss? Her hand unconsciously found its way into her pocket, grazing across the cool, smooth surface of the dawn stone and then clutching it tightly. Maybe it was crazy, but maybe, just maybe… She swallowed. "No, thank you for your time, ma'am. I appreciate it. I should be going."

"Of course, I've kept you long enough. I hope to see you again soon." Guzma's mom stepped back and began leading her to the door. As she walked, Alondra scanned the living room one more time for any final hints, especially now that his dad was out of the house. She'd missed it so many times before, and almost missed it again this time, but she finally noticed a bag of golf clubs in the corner. That wasn't so unusual in and of itself, but these clubs were severely bent, damaged. One couldn't possibly play golf with them in this condition. Her breath hitched, flashing back to that afternoon in the Po Town mansion. The shards of smashed bottles. The gouges in the arms of his chair. The way he slammed the door so hard in his anger that everything rattled. Had it started here?

"Say, I see some golf clubs," Alondra ventured weakly, standing in the doorway. "Does Guzma golf?"

"Oh heavens no. He could never sit still long enough for that sport! The only one who's ever touched those golf clubs is his father." The woman's words hung in the air like a miasma even though they were outwardly very innocent. The implications were there and both knew it. The condition of the golf clubs was not Guzma's doing, but his father's. And only a fit of rage would have left them in that condition…

She was so taken aback she did not hear Guzma's father approach from behind. "It's none of your damn business!" he growled, causing Alondra to jump. Eyes wide, she scooted to the side, allowing the large, balding man entrance. He scrutinized her suspiciously through cold gray eyes. "If it isn't Guzma's…'friend'…"

"Heh, yes sir. I just came to drop something off for him. Just on my way, in fact," Alondra babbled. This man made her stomach form knots just being in his presence. Like warning bells all over. Why?

"Good. The brat isn't home, so you haven't got any business here." His tone was forceful, clearly making no attempts to be polite.

Guzma's mom fidgeted with her hands anxiously. "Now dear, this sweet girl just came for a visit…"

"And is now leaving." His voice held authority as he declared his decision, and when Guzma's mother wilted, she knew that authority was never something that was questioned in this household.

"O-of course. I'll be on my way. Have a good afternoon then." With an obviously fake smile, Alondra slipped past the man and out the door hurriedly. She never looked back, and once she was off the porch her pace quickened until she was flying down Route 2.

Her body trembled. He called Guzma names again. He was aggressively defensive about his home. He wouldn't let his wife have a say. Everything about that man made her skin crawl, and she knew she would never be able to go back to that house alone like this again. In the past, he'd been indifferent at best. But now, she was certain he'd picked up on her prying, and would be nothing but hostile towards her. He'd made that pretty clear. She was scared of him. And if he'd been holding one of those golf clubs…

Suddenly, she stopped, panting and out of breath in more ways than one. So many thoughts spun in her head. 'Guzma, what's wrong with you?' Him yanking on his own hair as if to inflict pain upon himself. Shards of glass shining in the dim light of his mansion. The crazed look on his face when he thought about using Ultrabeasts to crush her. Being so sure he'd hurt her after she'd backed him into a corner in Po Town, but being shocked when he hadn't harmed her. Trying to picture a golf club in his hand but being unable to because of the Wimpod she imagined on his shoulder. Imagining the golf club in his father's hand and having no problem doing so. It was all too much.

She bit her lip as she fought back tears, moving off the main path to hide in the trees. When she was certain she was alone, she sank to the ground against the trunk of the nearest tree and buried her face in her arms as they rested on her knees. Whatever she'd gotten herself into, she was in way over her head.