C'est La Vie (A Pokemon Y Storylocke)

by LunaKat17

"Never hesitate, never forget"—that is the motto of a Kantonian Trainer. To always keep moving forward, to pursue your dream no matter the cost, price, or consequences. And one Trainer from Kanto finds herself asking if such ideals can survive in Kalos, as she grapples with legends, villains, and secrets that were better left buried. (Based off my Pokemon Y Nuzlocke).

7. Chapter 3: Amitie (Part 2)

WARNING: This includes LGBTQ content and discussion, as well as discussion of parental figures and family life that's... less than ideal, shall we say. It's nothing too bad, but you've been warned regardless.

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Amitié
(noun)
—French for "amity", "fellowship", and "friendship"

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.

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The sun was dipping low, turning the sky blazing ochre and The River fiery gold, when Celestine decided she needed to talk to Delphi before she got to the rest stop, not after. It was really out of insistence from Tanner—that was what she decided to call the currently uncaught Pidgey who had taken a liking to perching on her scalp and irritating her with his nonsensical chatter—that had forced her hand. His badgering about "how worried the kid must be" had brought to mind Sensei's lectures about trust between a Trainer and their Pokemon, how the two must work in perfect synchronization, and for that to occur, there must be no secrets about them, a solid foundation built on trust and respect.

She supposed it wasn't too respectful to leave him worrying.

Through the trees, she could make out a thatched roof in lovely pastel colors, a little faded but the eggshell blue was bright enough to stand out against the emerald mosaic of the woodland it was embedded in. That was the rest stop, she realized, and she either talked to him now or left him to worry throughout the rest of the night.

She took a small detour that led her to the side of The River, where she found a nice rock large enough to seat herself on. While Tanner paused his meaningless chatter about why the Fletchling line was intolerably smug, realizing the deviation from their chosen path, Celestine unclipped Delphi's Ball from her belt and pressed the button that would release him.
He re-emerged in a flash of diffused crimson light, just as bristled and panicked as he had been when she'd busted her leg, his eyes so wide the whites of them were visible. The minute his guileless eyes settled on her, awareness of his surroundings flooding him and his expression, a new wave of panic washed over him.

"Trainer!" he yipped. She winced at the register—shrill and grating. God, wasn't the thing with her leg punishment enough? "Are you alright!? Where are we? How long was I—"

"I'm fine," she interrupted flatly, "we're still on Route Two, and I kept you in the Ball because your panicking was extremely unhelpful. You've been in there for the last three hours because I'd hoped you would calm down." Celestine stopped when he winced and flattened his ears against the back of his skull and averted his eyes, as if fearing for the lives of others was something to be ashamed of. "Hey. Okay, no. Delphi? Don't act like that. Look, it... It was a bad idea on my part. Keeping you in the dark... It probably only worried you more, huh?"

Delphi said nothing.

She stood.

"Delphi, look at me." He peered up at her reluctantly, and his eyes immediately widened when he perceived her standing on both legs, completely unhindered. "I'm fine, okay? You don't have to worry about me getting hurt. Ever. Okay? It's my job to worry about you, not the other way around."

But the Fennekin didn't seem to be listening. His amber eyes were fixed intently on her once-injured leg, roving it for evidence of injuries long gone, the mangled ankle and the place were the joint had popped from its socket, where the bones had been crushed and condensed by the impact. That part had been particularly painful and gruesome, and had healed just before Calem's arrival, thankfully. Didn't stop it from hurting, though. Thankfully, the pain had ebbed when the injuries had, when the bones had knit themselves back together.

"H-How...?" he murmured. There was a confusion on his face—no, confusion didn't really cover it. It was more like, a total lack of comprehension, a thousand theories swarming his mind but none of them fitting, none of them connecting. She could see it in his eyes. Eyes betrayed everything, after all. "How did you...?"

He doesn't know, Celestine realized with a jolt, one that felt like a kick in the stomach, a shock that rippled through every nerve ending. God, Hakase, you... You didn't tell him?

Her mind whirled the revelation, blurry and wild and incoherent and desperate, a wild hurricane raging against the rafters of her sanity, tearing, tearing, tearing. If he didn't tell Delphi... did he tell anyone? Did... Grace-san know? Maurice-san? Shauna, her friends? Is that why Calem... looked at me, the way he did? Oh god. Oh Alpha almighty.

"Okay, um." Celestine didn't know what to do. This threw a kink in everything. She should tell him, but where did she begin? Hakase keeping this a secret didn't make any sense. It shouldn't matter—well, occasionally it did, and it was a... thing—but he'd never come across as the secretive type. Was he looking out for her, or his reputation? Either way, telling her starter, the Pokemon that would stand by her in this perilous Journey of hers seemed like a no-brainer. But to keep it a secret? Maybe he thought it wasn't his place to say? No, he wasn't subtle in the slightest. Neither was she, for that matter.

She should tell Delphi.

She should tell Delphi right now. Just come outright and rip the bandage off and let the chips fall where they may.

"We're almost at the rest stop," she blurted out, the words burst from her throat and her voice acting on a will of its own, a will that was sneaky and dishonest and exactly the opposite of what she wanted to be. "I-I'm going to put you in your Ball for the time being, okay?"

Delphi still looked dazed, somewhere between concerned and uncomprehending, and it caused his brows to furrow. "O...kay?"

She returned him, watched as the light of his Ball dissolved flesh and blood into aura and code and claimed the resulting beam. When the metal shell snapped shut again, her legs quivered, as though the fractures in her bones were opening back up again. A hot numbness washed over her, a burning void expanding in her gut as if to swallow her up from the inside out. This feeling was not betrayal or shame or anything of the like, but it was also not that, a feeling that was somewhere between emotion and numbness, a horror and shock and fear that rocked her, the impact so great her entire skeleton was left vibrating. Or was there even a name for something like this, learning that someone she had trusted, someone who had done some much for her—even if he did seem to like jerking her around quite a bit, screwing with her to the point where it wasn't funny anymore—would conceal something like this? Not from her, but from everyone around her?

Things started to click. The reason everyone had interacted with her in such an easy fashion, not tiptoeing around her or minding her like she was some kind of aberration of the human race. It had been relieving at the time, to be treated with a sense of normalcy that would forever escape her, but now it made sense. They didn't know. They treated her as normal because they thought she was. They thought that if her bones broke, they would stay that way. If she bled, the wound wouldn't close and vanish like shadow chased by the sun. The revelation—they don't know, they don't know, they don't know, they don't know—it rocked her, rightly and truly. It felt too much like a betrayal, learning that Hakase hadn't filled them in, had allowed them to perpetuate the idea that she was not beyond flesh and bone. It wasn't a betrayal, though. Not really, just an omission, but the words felt like they might as well be synonymous at this point.

Celestine covered her mouth, just in case. She felt sick, violently and suddenly, and she didn't trust herself to swallow the bile rising to her throat in time.

"Hey, Trainer," Tanner chirped. He had left her scalp sometime when she was talking to Delphi, and he had perched himself on the rock she'd been sitting on. "You okay there? You look a little... green around the gills."

"I'm fine," Celestine bit out. The sun was sinking like her spirit. It left fire in its wake, and beyond that, a crushing darkness that invaded everything and everywhere. And there were no stars yet to alleviate the feeling of asphyxiation. "We should get going. Night is falling."

"Okay then." The Pidgey straightened. "Look after the kid. What'dya call him again? Max? Whatever. I'll be sleeping on the roof of that building there. If anything happens to him overnight, I'm holding you accountable."

"Okay," Celestine murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

The sound of wings flapping alerted her that Tanner had taken off. She lingered near the water for a few minutes longer, the rush of The River echoing in her ears, before she picked herself up and started moving again.

Besides, it's not like it would make a difference anyway.

But she couldn't shake Calem's face, pale with the realization of who and what she was, from her memory, either. She stifled a groan. Like their relationship wasn't complicated enough.

---

By the time Celestine arrived at the rest stop—a comely, inn-like building that reminded her of the Kalosian chalets she'd seen pictures of as a kid, only smaller and much more rustic—night had fallen. It was dark and beautiful, in the way it hid things that they eyes could not see, that the rustling in the grass might belong to some creature with crippling venom or a painful bite, or that the trees seemed to speak a language of their as they moaned in the wind. Somewhere between haunting and lovely, and worth admiring, but Celestine was more than happy to reach the yellow light of the building, the sanctuary in the wild. It was a little hard to believe this place could stand so tall and proud and unafraid of the night.

The first thing she realized when she came in, aside from the fact that a bell was placed over the door that rang whenever someone came in, was that the group was already there. And from the looks of it, had been there for quite a while. They were all situated somewhere, quite comfortable in what appeared to be either a waiting room or a sparsely furnished lobby.

Shauna was the first to notice Celestine's presence and raced over to greeted her enthusiastically. Celestine had to smile and pretend she didn't feel a little sickened by the amicability, the revelation of Hakase's omission still rattling around in her head.

Serena leaned casually over the front counter as she chatted with the receptionist, seemingly at ease in this homey environment, despite the dim lighting and the old-style furniture. Really, it was so rural that Celestine, city-girl that she was, thought she might cry when she saw the guns mounted on the wall and the fur-covered chairs and... were those Sawsbuck antlers over the fireplace? Never mind. She didn't want to know. The only ting that was mildly pleasant to look at was the vase of starwort flowers and pear tree leaves on the front desk.

Calem and Trevor had sequestered themselves near said fireplace, engaging in one their friendly arguments, by the looks of it, throwing playful jabs at one another in an attempt to see who would get riled up first. Tierno loitered nearby, intervening whenever he thought the boys were going too far and occasionally throwing his own two cents in, alternating between tamping things down and fanning the flames.

Calem caught sight of her entering, and his eyes lingered on her for a second longer than usual. When she turned to glance at him, he averted his eyes and casually fired off something that made Trevor scream through gritted teeth.

"What took so long?" Shauna asked, drawing Celestine's attention again. Right. Interact with other people, pretend you're not hiding something. Okay not hiding, just not broadcasting it. That sort of thing. Just—act normal.

"I, uh." Celestine shrugged. She felt weirdly twitchy. "I had to climb up a tree to catch a Pidgey."

Shauna laughed.

Celestine blinked.

Shauna's laughter trailed off. "Oh, you weren't kidding."

"Yeah, no."

"That sucks."

"I really didn't have a choice," Celestine said with another shrug. Was it weird that she felt like she was being judged? She glanced over at Calem, wonder if it was his eyes she felt on her back, but he was engrossed in his conversation-debate-argument-whatever with Trevor.

"Hey." She looked back over at Shauna. The Hoennian girl was peering up at her in concern. "You okay? You seem kinda... I dunno. Just, not okay."

"I'm fine. Just... tired."

"Okay, I guess I can understand that. Let's go check in."

Celestine frowned as she followed Shauna to the reception desk. "You haven't checked in yet?"

"We were waiting for you. If we rent a room with two beds and a couch, we can split the cost so it's cheaper," Shauna explained as she came up next to Serena. The blonde turned as they approached, but the receptionist himself had vanished from his station. "Dunno what the guys are gonna do, though."

"You have to pay to stay here?" Celestine asked. That had never been the case with Pokemon Centers. You just swiped your Trainer Card and were given a free room, unless the Center was packed, in which case you stayed at a hotel or inn instead. But this was a League-sanctioned building, just the like the Centers, wasn't it? So why would League Trainers have to pay to for something that the League sponsored and looked after.

"Is that not how things work in Kanto?" Serena asked. On her other side, the boys were making their way over to the counter, seeming to have the same idea about officially checking in.

"No. Centers are free. And if you have a Trainer card, you aren't charged."

"You don't have to pay for anything?" Trevor gasped, like the notion itself was incomprehensible.

"Not necessarily," Celestine answered. "You still had to pay for items and stuff. And besides, Trainer Cards don't pay for everything. Some establishments don't take them."

"Like?" Tierno inquired.

"Love hotels, for instance."

"What's a—"

"It's a hotel where couples stay at to have sex."

Shauna squeaked and Serena flushed. Trevor turned bright red, Tierno frowned in confusion, and Calem muttered something under his breath about how he was definitely never visiting Kanto if he could help it.

"Oh, come on," Tierno said. "That is not a thing."

"No. No, it is."

"...huh."

Mercifully, the receptionist returned. He received them with a tired smile that spoke of a long day's work and Celestine wondered if there were employees working under him, or if it was just him, managing this place all alone, keeping it in tact for the few Trainers that trickled down into the pastoral wilds. Most likely, this man only saw two types of Trainers on a daily basis—the veterans who traveled here in hopes of finding some reprieve, a break from strenuous training and a lifetime of battling, or the young ones who were just beginning their quests, starry-eyed and naïve, with big dreams and little sense.

The check-in process went fairly smoothly, though Celestine would openly admit to cringing inwardly when she heard the receptionist talk, his accent so thick it left her struggling to understand him. Shauna managed to persuade Serena that the three of them staying in a single room wouldn't be so bad and in no way compromise anyone's personal privacy, to which Serena reluctantly agreed. Celestine still couldn't understand the blonde's trepidation—in Kanto, communal changerooms were normal at schools and rarely anyone had any qualms about changing in front of someone of the same gender, but it was probably different in Kalos, just like everything else was. Man, this was going to be a much bigger adjustment than she thought.

The guys checked in first—Tierno ended up banished to his own room because, according to Calem, the dancer, quote, "snored like a fucking Pangoro", unquote, to which Trevor heartily agreed. While they squabbled amongst themselves, Tierno trying to guilt them and only succeeding in getting Calem to roll his eyes, Shauna briefly explained to Celestine that once their Trainer cards were swiped and registered in the system, they doubled as card keys, something that pleasantly surprised the Kantonian because she'd only ever seen that technology applied in Pokémon Centers. Go figure.

In the end, Tierno was booked for the solitary Room 15, Shauna had checked the girls into the spacious Room 12, and Calem and Trevor would be staying in Room 13.

Though, there was one odd bit about the check-in process that had Celestine a little puzzled. It was when the receptionist had been swiping Calem's and Trevor's cards, and the man had stopped to squint at the screen.

"Calem... Lafayette?" The man looked up, and there was something like reverence in his eyes, like a pious man in the presence of a god or an archeologist uncovering the find that would make him famous.

Nothing changed about Calem, physically, no tension in his posture or wavering of his bored expression—but Celestine could suddenly sense discomfort thick in the air around him. It was there in the way his movements stiffened and became slower, more reluctant. He took his card, trying to subtly avert his eyes and seemingly trying to avoid fidgeting under the man's rapt attention, muttering a muted "merci" before grabbing Trevor and all but racing out of there.

When Celestine tried to ask Serena about it, the blonde shrugged and muttered that boys were weird.

True as that may be, Celestine had thought as she'd eyed the receptionist—he had been staring off in the direction Calem and Trevor had gone, with a mix between star struck and the same wistfulness that had colored Serena's voice as she spoke of Kalos's glory days, that explains absolutely nothing about what the hell just happened.

And that was pretty much it. Everyone went to their rooms after that—Serena seemed a little agitated, though, as she swiped her lavender research assistant's card—and no one spoke of the incident. Shauna, though, quickly slipped out to "inform Tierno", and when she came back, Celestine could have sworn she heard Tierno knocking insistently on the door to Room 13, a hint of urgency in his voice. Shauna closed the door again before Celestine could catch any more of the conversation.

The room was large and quaint, Celestine thought as she surveyed it, but it was obviously old. Someone had definitely taken the time to add things every so often, each piece of furniture seemingly from a different decade, but it did nothing to distract from the fact that the wallpaper was so faded that the pattern was no longer discernable and it was peeling a little in some places. Two beds rested on either side of the room, done up in pressed floral bedsheets, with a nightstand wedged between them and a large couch situated in front, where an old-looking TV was propped up against the wall, so that the occupants of all three could watch at once. In one corner, Celestine spied a teeny tiny closet and a while door that led to a bathroom that was twice as large as the closet but still very small.

A vase full of starwort flowers sat on the nightstand, right next to the lamp. Pear leaves were carefully arranged on the pillows.

Celestine walked over to one and picked up a single leaf by the stem, twirling it around in her fingers. "What is with all the plants everywhere? There was a bunch of these in the hallway, too."

"Language of the flowers," Serena replied as she sat down on the couch and began to unpack her purse. By virtue of the Storage Key, a virtual storage application applied to almost all Trainer gear these days, you could fit just about anything smaller than the carrying medium without any fear of it getting cluttered. Thousands of things could fit, maybe a hundred or so Max Repels filed away in some little sphere of cyberspace without anyone being the wiser. It was the same tech that Poké Balls were developed with, though lacking the aura-infusion overlay. "The starwort means 'welcome to a stranger' and the pear leaves mean 'comfort'."

"...seriously?"

"It's Kalos tradition." Serena glanced up. "Why? Does it bother you?"

Celestine's thoughts flashed back to the marigolds, their representation of grief, and she thought of Hakase's omission and Calem's wide eyes as he observed her healing leg. She thought of her Maman, knelt over rows upon rows of potted plants in the nursery, face turned down and inky bangs falling in her face, her curling Kalosian accent as she meticulously explained the meanings of every plant there.

Celestine twirled the pear leaf in her fingers one more time before setting it down on the nightstand, next to the vase of starwort. "...no."

Serena frowned.

"Man, I'm beat!" Shauna exclaimed. She bounced over to the other bed and collapsed onto it, spread eagle, sending pear leaves fluttering through the air like confetti as she let out an exaggerated sigh. Comfort indeed. "That Route went on forever and that was only half of it! Y'know? Oh, I caught the cutest Zigzagoon. But I guess I'm not gonna be able to keep him, am I Serie?"

"'Fraid not, Shauna."

"Damn. I really wanted a Linoone. Their coats are so pretty." While Shauna sat up, Celestine decided to start gathering the pear leaves on her pillows into her hands. "But I can't even access the WonderTrade network until we get to Santalune, can I? What am I gonna do until then? Just use Mint? Sucky system."

"Wasn't my idea," Serena said tiredly. She stood, a pink camisole and a pair of PJ pants slung over her shoulder. "Okay, I'm gonna go change in the bathroom. Be out in a sec, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Shauna said dismissively, falling back into the plushness of her sheets and kicking up another puff of pear leaves into the air.

Serena drew a faint smile and vanished into the bathroom.

"Is it normal to be this modest?" Celestine asked. "Even if we're all girls?"

"The fact that we're all girls is the problem," Shauna answered idly.

"Eh?" Celestine paused and glanced over at the lounging Hoennian. "Nase?"

"Uh..." Shauna frowned. "'Nase' means 'why', doesn't it?"

Celestine set the pear leaf cluster in her hands over onto the nightstand. "Yeah. Sorry. Kantonese and Common are used interchangeably in Kanto. I need to work on that."

"'S fine. I'm a total anime-nerd, so I'll probably understand what you're saying anyway." Shauna sat up and started undoing the web of straps that made up her sandals. And Celestine thought her heels were impractical. "Let's see... Why? Well, Serie's touchy 'cause, y'know..."

"I don't, actually. Is it a Kalosian thing?"

Shauna frowned at the suggestion, dropping her sandals over the side of the bed. They landed with a soft thump. "No, it's a lesbian thing."

Celestine blinked. Once twice. What. "I. She. Nani?"

"Well, I dunno if it's all lesbians. I don't think it is. But Serie's always been super shy with her body image and stuff, y'know? She doesn't like anyone checking her out while she's getting dressed. Not that we'd be checking her out—she's just kinda paranoid that way."

Celestine felt like her brain was breaking, stuck somewhere between processing the words "lesbian" and "Serena". She sank to the mattress. It creaked subtly under her weight, the comforter adding an extra level of plushness and it smelled of old detergent, the kind without a floral scent to mask the smell of chemicals. "What?"

"Why are you acting like this some big—" Shauna stopped and scanned Celestine's expression. The shock and confusion must have been clear, because the hardness immediately slipped away from Shauna's expression. "Oh, shit, you didn't know, did you?"

Celestine was still processing. "Serena is... she's a lesbian?"

"Ahaha, yeah." Shauna threw her legs over the side of the bed to get a better look at the Kantonian, sheepishness written all over her olive-skinned face. "Sorry. I keep forgetting you're new, y'know? I'm just so used to everyone knowing about us—"

"Us?"

Shauna froze, her eyes widening. She immediately looked away, curling one knee up to her chest. "Ahahaha, y'know what? This is probably crossing a line, so, can we just—"

"You brought it up," Celestine said.

The brunette blew her bangs out of her face. "Fine. But if anyone asks, you forced me to tell you this."

"I'm okay with that."

Shauna hugged her propped-up knee and started swinging the other leg. "Well, okay, so. Me and the guys and Serie. We're all kinda... Do you know what 'queer' means?"

Celestine frowned. "As in a synonym for 'strange'?"

"That's the old connotation," Shauna responded, sounding oddly offended. "Now, it's used to, um. Well, it refers to people who aren't straight."

"Aren't stra..." Celestine trailed off. She wanted to ask a question, but she wasn't sure how to word it with it being misconstrued. "Ah, okay, this might sound weird—s-so, like, yuri and shonen-ai? I'm sorry if that comes off...weird. I dunno."

"No, no." Shauna paused, lowering her arms. Her swinging keg stilled. "I mean, yeah, it's kinda like that, but it's a spectrum, y'know? Queer's an umbrella term. What about LGBT—ever heard of that?"

Now it was Celestine's turn to be offended. "Of course I have."

"Okay, well, all five of us kinda fit into that category somewhere." Shauna crossed her legs. "Like me, I'm pansexual."

The image of Shauna nuzzling a piece of cookware popped into Celestine's mind. "Eh?"

"It means that I have the potential to be attracted to a person regardless of gender," Shauna explained, sounding very much like she was lecturing. Really, all she needed was teacher's garb and a ruler and a chalkboard. "It does not mean that I am attracted to everyone or everything, that I am slutty, or I sleep with everyone I'm attracted to. I fall in love the same way everybody else does. I just don't restrict myself based on gender."

"Okay." Celestine made a mental note to never confide that mental image of Shauna and a frying pan. It seemed like it would be offensive. "That's you, but... are they all...?"

"Pansexual like me? Nah. Tierny's actually like Serie. Y'know, into the same gender. And have you ever heard the term 'aro/ace'?" Here, Shauna paused and waited for Celestine to answer, but all the Kantonian could give her was a slow-blink and a raised eyebrow. "It stands for 'aromantic' and 'asexual'. It means that someone doesn't really...get like that, y'know? Trevs is like that. And Cali's bi, like, y'know. Guys and girls."

Celestine mulled the information over. Well, it wasn't like someone's entire personality were revealed to be this huge and elaborate lie and you could never look at the person the same way ever again. This didn't change the fact that Shauna was still Shauna and Serena was still Serena and the guys were still the guys and Celestine still had to work things out with Calem. And from her rather limited knowledge on the subject of—queerness? Was that the right word?—no one actually chose their orientations. It was just how they were, and it shouldn't change anything about them.

It didn't change anything about them.

But she must have been too quiet and too contemplative, because Shauna began to look nervous. "Hey, um, Celie. This. This doesn't... make you uncomfortable, does it?"

"Eh? What?" Celestine straightened. "Oh, no, no, nothing like that. It's not my place to judge. It's just"—she paused, brushed a lock of ebony hair out of her face—"this isn't really a conversation I've ever had before. I don't know if I'm going to say something that might be offensive."

Shauna relaxed instantly. A faint smile touched her lips, and then it grew and grew and grew into a huge grin, and then she started laughing—a mere giggle at first, then it gradually escalated until it shook her petite form and she fell back against the bed, howling with laughter.

"Shauna?"

"Y-You s-s-scare me f-for a s-second!" Shauna chortled. She tried to sit up again, but she fell back down again and a couple of pear leaves fluttered up in the air again for a moment.

Celestine felt like her brain had stopped again. What exactly was she supposed to do here, anyway? Just sit here and let Shauna laugh it out? "Eh, gomen nasai."

"N-No." The Hoennian forced herself upright again, clutching her stomach, her face flushed and her eyes wet. "It's fine. K-Kinda sweet, actually."

"Ari...gato?"

At that moment, Serena came out, changed into what Celestine assumed was her sleepwear and her honey locks freed from her ponytail. "Hey, what're you talking about?"

"She was explaining your queerness to me," Celestine said. Shauna yelped for her to shut up—too late. The words had already left her mouth.

Serena's reaction was instant. She rounded on Shauna with a fury that Celestine didn't know the blonde was capable of, and had Celestine decided she'd rather stay out of Serena's warpath. "YOU DID WHAT!?"

"Thanks, Celie," Shauna muttered.

"Is it that big a deal?" Celestine asked.

"Yes!" Serena snapped, and pointed accusatorily to Shauna. "She outed me without my permission."

"A-Actually, I don't think 'outed' is the right word," Shauna said nervously.

"Doesn't matter! You crossed a line!"

"She's totally okay with it though! Aren't you Celie?"

"It's really none of my business," Celestine said. She got up. "On that note, neither is this conversation. I'm going to go change."

Shauna's eyes widened in both fear and betrayal, but Serena waved her arm dismissively. "Whatever."

Needless to say, Celestine bolted into the bathroom as quickly as she could, keeping her head low because being so much taller than the both of them made her feel oddly exposed, and slammed the door behind her. She could still hear Serena berating Shauna through the walls.

Celestine sighed and leaned back against the door. Now that she had a moment to herself, worrisome things started poking at her thoughts, hello, hello, forget about us? All the crazy things that had happened to day, all the ways she hadn't imagined her Journey beginning. Before long, her head was spinning, and the entire day seemed to be trying to squeeze its way into her skull, every little bit tugging her this way and that, look at me, look at me, pay attention, I'm the thing you should be most concerned about.

Delphi's horrible battle performance. Apologizing to Calem. The omen of the marigolds. Hakase making her jump through hoops in exchange for a PokéDex. Max and Tanner. Busting her leg and worrying Delphi and Calem finding out. Hakase's omission, the way the receptionist had reacted to Calem's surname, and now this added information that Serena was obviously sensitive about. How would the guys react if they found out Celestine knew this?

Celestine took a deep breath. In, out, in, out. She raked a hand through her bangs—breathe. There was too much to think about, too much to focus on, too much for one person to take on all at once, and there was too little time left in the day to address everything. Some things would just have to be left until the tomorrow, like figuring out how to catch Tanner or dealing with Hakase's oversight—and yes, that could be left until tomorrow, what no one knew wouldn't kill them, right?—and just focus on the stuff that needed her immediate attention.

Okay, Lavieaux, first thing's first. Damage control.

She unclipped Delphi's Ball and released him. Reassuring the Starter, Take Two.

Delphi ended up on the toilet, and he was much less frazzled than he had been earlier. His fur had gone flat, his tail and ears down, and he sat on his hunches, eyes turned down. The minute his awareness came back, he straightened like a soldier awaiting orders from his commanding officer, eyes turning wide and fearful, filled with millions of questions but her earlier reaction must have been sufficient to keep him silent, because he opened his mouth but then quickly clamped it shut.

"Hey."

He said nothing.

Celestine ran a hand through her bangs and sighed from deep, deep down within her lungs. "Okay. Delphi, listened to me. I handled this entire situation badly. Really badly. It was wrong to keep you in the dark. It was wrong to tear into you like that. It was wrong to get angry—every single thing I did involving you was wrong on my part."

She took a deep breath, and she felt her voice breaking in her throat. Apologies were not her forte, they never would be. She hated being wrong, but she was wrong. Admitting it, making amends, that was the only they could ever move forward and they needed to move forward or they would never get anywhere. Just because her pride felt like shards of broke glass in her throat didn't mean she shouldn't swallow it anyway.

"I screwed up, Delphi," she said, the word "I" seeming to shatter her from the inside out, "not you. You did nothing wrong. You were trying to make a connection, and I pushed you away. You shouldn't feel bad. I've... Okay, okay look. My leg. About that? It's complicated and messy and I thought Hakase had filled you in, but I guess he didn't because you gave me this look like you had no idea how the bones healed. I don't know why he didn't tell you, which means I've gotta tell you now, I guess—but honestly? Like I said, messy, complicated, and it's the end of the day and I'm just...really overstressed, okay? I don't want to get into it tonight.

"But I can promise you that I'll explain everything. Once we get to the next city and we get a room to ourselves and we're not traveling. W-When we can sit down, just the two of us, and I can fill you in, but in the meantime, Delphi, just..." She stopped, her throat closing up and her mouth dry. Her feet were suddenly aching from having to bear her heels all day—she sat down slowly, as if her joints were stiff iron in need of oil, and folded her legs. "I. I n-need you to trust me, okay? Just for a little bit— I mean, I know I was a bitch, but I just— We're kinda stuck with each other for now, so— Might as well make the best of it, y'know?"

He blinked and said nothing, his expression unreadable.

"Dammit, why am I so bad at this!?" Celestine groaned, burying her face in her hands. Her eyes burned, her ears rang, and there were dark, spindly shapes forming beneath her eyelids—her heart raced, her mouth tasted like iron mixed with vinegar, and goddammit, they weren't real. "I just—"

Delphi shrank back.

She tore at her hair, long ebony strands coming loose in her fingers, her scalp tearing and burning and aching. "GaaaaaAAAAAAaaaaaAAAAAAHHHHhhhhh!"

The walls echoed with her shout. Celestine bit her lip so hard her mouth filled with the taste of blood. Delphi let out a bark of alarm, but Celestine used her heel to push herself closer to the door, silently insisting that she was fine. A dull pain throbbed in her skull, the same pain that had been there this morning—and just like this morning, it crescendoed and then ebbed, almost as quickly as it had climaxed. Once it was gone, she let her head fall back, limply, against the door, her breaths coming out in pants.

"...Trainer?" came Delphi's timid voice, laced heavily with concern.

Her eyes fluttered open. When she looked down, Delphi was standing on her knee, his front paws propped up against her collarbone and his blunt claws digging into her soft skin. His nose was cold against the flush of her cheek, wide orange eyes hovering in front of her, concerned and genuinely scared.

"'M fine, Delphi," she managed. She inhaled deeply, hoping to calm her heartbeat down. "Don't worry. It won't happen anymore."

Delphi's ears flattened. "H-Has this...happened before?"

She closed her eyes and exhaled through her nostrils. "Delphi. Look, I'm fine. Really. I'm touched that you're worried, but it's not something you need to worry about. Part of the things I'll tell you about when we get to Santalune."

"...okay," Delphi murmured. He took his paws off her and sat down on his hunches. "Um. T-Trainer, I— i-if you're willing to try then, um... I guess I am too...?"

"You don't sound very confident."

Delphi flattened his ears and started rambling apologies under his breath.

"It was a joke, kid."

"...oh."

"Can you get off so I can stand up?"

"Right! Sorry." He jumped off.

"I'm gonna change now," she said as she stood—her joints felt stiff and hot, like someone had filled them with molted iron. "How about you go settle down on the bed—the left one—and ask Shauna to let out Mint so you two can chat or something."

"You're letting me stay out for the night?" He made it seem like the concept of sleeping outside his Ball for the night was some great taboo.

She arched a brow, already halfway-through taking off her boots. "You want to go back in your Ball?"

"Um." Delphi tilted his head to the side, mulling it over. "Not really."

She opened the door a sliver. "Then go."

Delphi looked at her like he couldn't believe she was being serious, but he flattened his ears and slipped out the door. She waited until the fiery end of his tail vanished before she closed it with a soft click.

---

When Celestine reemerged, Shauna and Serena seemed to have worked out their disagreement, sitting side-by-side on the couch, trying to figure out how the TV worked, an odd clash between plain pyjamas and glittery frills. On the bed, Delphi was curled up on the pillow, bantering with Mint, though it was clear the Chespin was dominating the conversation—there had to be a way to stop the Fennekin from being so skittish.

"Bathroom's open," Celestine announced.

The girls both looked up—Serena's face turned red. "What are you wearing!?" the blonde screeched.

Celestine, in nothing but her underwear, shrugged. "I usually sleep in this."

Serena buried her face in her hands while Shauna giggled. "Stay under the covers tonight, Celie. You might give Serie a nosebleed."

"Shauna!"

Celestine hesitated by the door, her hand lingering on the knob. A flush of embarrassment went through her skin. "Is that a legitimate concern? Should I change?"

"The gorgeous model-type foreigner with the sexy voice and the soulful eyes?" Shauna asked, fighting a smirk. At that point, the embarrassment blazing under Celestine's skin turned into mortification, and she wanted to crawl into a hole as Shauna started to snicker. "Oh yeah. Your presence is very sexually frustrating."

Serena grabbed her purse and made a show out of mock-whacking Shauna with it, screaming—OhmyGoddess, Shauna shut up—as Shauna cackled like a cartoon villainess.

"...I'm just going to get under the covers," Celestine muttered, and slunk into her bed. She pulled the covers over her head and swore to never come back out again.

As the girls continued to screech at each other, the Kantonian felt something poke the side of her head. "Trainer? Are you okay?"

"Gods, Delphi, you don't ask a girl if she's alright when she's mortified!" Mint cried out.

"Oh." The weight around Celestine's head shifted as the Fennekin backed away. "Sorry Trainer."

Celestine wanted to die. Right now. Someone just kill her. Please, god, please.

"Y'know what," Serena said loudly, "it's late and I'm tired and I think we should all go to bed."

Celestine poked her head out from the blankets. "That sounds like a fabulous idea. Let's all shut up and go to sleep now."

"Bah, you're all killjoys," Shauna huffed. "I don't usually fall asleep 'till midnight."

Serena made a move to whack the Hoennian with her purse, but Shauna laughed and leaped deftly off the couch. "Go get dressed you night owl!"

Shauna huffed and vanished into the bathroom, muttering there were too many "larks" in Kalos.

Celestine heard Serena sigh and caught the blonde shifting her weight to her hunches, like she was kneeling. A frown worked its way onto her, Celestine's, face and she sat up (careful to cover her chest with the blankets for self-conscious reasons). "Serena? What are you doing?"

The blonde was kneeling on the couch, facing Celestine. She touched her hand left shoulder, right shoulder, beneath the left breast, beneath the right breast—and then traced an X on her forehead with her thumb before folding her hands as if in prayer, keeping her head lowered devoutly. "I'm praying to the Goddess."

Celestine blinked. She straightened a little, somewhere between curious and incredulous despite herself. "Wait, seriously?"

Serena hummed an affirmative response.

There was a beat of silence. Celestine exchanged a glance with Delphi and Mint, who both shrugged. And then Serena started to hum.

It was a lilting tune, rhythmic dips in high and low notes, something lovely and reverent, a prayer without words. To Celestine's ears, it sounded like breathing, or the beat of an ancient heart, and a memory bubbled up in the back of her mind. She suddenly saw Maman, before the stress of motherhood had blanched silver streaks into her hair, the woman kneeling down piously, humming in a silvery voice that always reminded Celestine of the stars at night, glittering and cold but somehow beautiful.

Before Celestine knew it, Serena's humming had ended, and the Kalosian had begun pulling out a blanket from her purse.

"Hey Serie," Mint chirruped, "What was that? It was really pretty."

"It was a prayer," Serena answered. "They say that the Goddess responds better to wordless prayers, because words are considered a source of conflict or something. Words deceive."

"That was the hymn of hope, wasn't it?" Celestine heard herself ask.

They all turned to her, blinking.

The Kantonian flushed. "L-Like a request for good fortune, right? And patience? That's what they say hope consists of—patience, luck, and strength."

"How do you know that?" asked Serena.

"My mother was Kalosian. She taught me all about the Goddess and prayers and stuff," Celestine answered. She felt oddly embarrassed, relaying this information. "I-I mean we never hosted ceremonies or anything like that, but I just... We used to pray every now and again."

A smile appeared on Serena's face, pure and simple. "Well then. Maybe next time we can do it together."

But Celestine shook her head. "I'm flattered, but I stopped believing in fairytales a long time ago."

"Huh? Why?"

She turned laid down again and pulled the blankets up higher. "I just figured that, if gods really do exist, we shouldn't put our faith in them. They obviously don't care about our pettily-ass problems, otherwise the world would be a lot safer."

And then Shauna came back from the bathroom and they spoke no more.

---

The lights were off, the room blanketed in shadows. Delphi sat curled on the pillow next to Trainer's head.

"Hey Delphi?"

The Fennekin's ears perked at the sound of Trainer's voice.

"Thanks for accepting my apology."

Delphi felt oddly warm. "Oh, um, you're welcome."

Trainer shifted a little. "Oyasumi, Delphi."

He didn't know what that meant, but he could guess from context. "Bonne nuit, Trainer."

---

Tierno's first thought about the room was that it was bigger than his own, which made sense, because it was meant to occupy two people rather than only one. Still, though. It seemed unfair to get banished to a solitary room for something he couldn't control. It wasn't his fault he'd been born with a deviated septum.

Trevor closed the door behind them with a soft click. He was soft in that sense only, but not much more. It was why Shauna had sent Tierno over here after the receptionist incident. Not that Trevor wasn't a good friend or anything, but there were times when he could come off as a little impatient, and that led to the illusion of insensitivity. Tierno tended to be better at working out the icky, emotional problems, things that required delicate footwork and devotion to a person's particular rhythm. He'd always been good at picking up on subtle moods, working around trigger-points and getting to the root of the problem without causing anything to blow up.

Tierno's second thought was actually more of a realization—noticing that Calem was in the corner, his HoloCaster to his ear, a hologram hovering in front of his face. He, Calem, was talking to an older man, but they were practically twins despite the age gap, possessing the same lank dark hair and steely grey eyes and sharp, angled faces. Their shouting was thunderous, loud enough to make the walls shudder and Tierno winced as they fired off, back and forth, back and forth.

"You didn't give me a choice!" Cal was shouting. Jeez, he was terrifying when he was pissed. "I mean, I've heard everything you've had to say! If I wanted your advice, I'd have asked for it!"

"And that's reason enough to leave without telling me?!" Calem's Père shot back. "Do you have any idea how it felt to hear from Evalynne that you'd left without saying goodbye?!"

Tierno glanced at Trevor, expecting an explanation. Trevor glanced at Tierno, clearly expecting the same.

Oh. Yikes.

"And suffer through another lecture!? Like hell!"

"Watch your language young man!"

"Oh my god," Calem muttered.

"Imagine how worried I was!" the man went on. "I had no idea where you were, and then I have to hear it from a secondary source that you'd already left? Now that hurts me deeply, Calem. And the only reason I lecture you is because you are so fucking headstr—"

The hologram dispersed abruptly, and Calem shoved the Caster in his pocket. With a growl, he marched over to the bed and flopped down, groaning.

"Dude," Tierno spoke up, making Calem jump and straighten. "Did you just hang up on your Père?"

Cal sat up, frowning. "When did you get here?"

"Two minutes ago. You didn't just hang up on him, did you?"

Cal snorted. "As far as he knows, the battery probably just ran out. It's what I'm gonna tell him next time he calls, anyway."

Tierno glanced nervously at Trevor, who returned it with a tired look of his own. The ginger sighed and, with a shrug, climbed up on the other bed, curling up with the Dex in hands. Awkward and seemingly rude as it was, it was Trevor's way of giving Tierno permission to have at it and feel free to leave him out of it, because Trevor was probably going to say something blunt that might be taken the wrong way. Tierno never liked leaving Trevor out, but it felt wrong to push when Trevor pretty much gave him explicit, almost insistent, permission.

"So what are you gonna say when he calls later?" Tierno asked, seating himself at the foot of Trevor's bed. The springs creaked under his weight and he resisted the urge to wince.

"No idea. Maybe I just won't pick up."

Tierno frowned. "Cal, you can't ignore him forever."

"Don't have to," Cal said dismissively. "Once we're in the Forest, the connection won't be good enough for calls to get through. Which gives him about a week to cool off, at most."

Tierno stared at Calem for a long time before heaving a sigh. He couldn't not ask, not after overhearing what he'd overheard. "Please tell me the reason you guys're fighting isn't because you left it to your stepmom to tell him where you went."

Calem grunted and fell back against the bed, glaring petulantly at the ceiling.

"Goddammit, Cal."

"I had no choice!" Calem shot back, making emphatic gestures with his hands—the way he did when the subject was personal and prickly, a veil of frustration and irritation to hide the icky emotional gunk festering underneath. Tierno mentally steeled his patience for a long-winded rant. "The man has been driving me crazy! 'Don't do this', 'do this', 'take my advice', 'listen to my every word'—Goddess, I can't stand it anymore! It's my life, my Journey! I mean, I get that he's trying to keep me from screwing up, but I want to be able to screw up. And I know that sounds weird, but I just— I don't know. I don't know."

"Cal," Tierno interrupted softly. Calem turned to him, eyes flashing. "He's just worried about you. It's, like, the right of all parents to worry about their kids. He's your Père, Cal. His stressing over you is a sign of how much he cares."

"I know that!" Calem exploded, loud and raw and coarse. A can of worms bursting open and all the ugly, wriggling gross things exposed, even if only for a second. "Goddammit, I know! But I'm not a little kid anymore! I'm seven-fucking-teen! Hell, I'll be eighteen next month! Eighteen—a legal adult! I don't need him holding my hand and tugging me along! I can do it on my own if he'd just fucking let me!"

Calem's face was red by the end, and he kept making incoherent gestures with his hands, as if to make up for the fact to further articulate his frustration. He pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing a noise that was somewhere between a growl and groan.

Tierno waited for the color to leave Cal's face before he spoke up. "Can I say something?"

Cal didn't answer. Tierno took that as a green light.

"You know the only reason he's stressing over you this much is because—"

"I know!" Calem ran his hands through his hair and sighed heavily. "I know."

Tierno's mouth twisted as he watched Cal attempting to calm himself down. Well, that was to be expected when you were dealing with such a loaded subject.

Still, it was a disheartening thing Tierno was witnessing. Contrary to his current behavior, Calem's Père was actually a rather laidback parent—supportive, encouraging, there for the low points as well as the high. He tried stay out of Calem's personal affairs unless he was explicitly asked, tried to foster a sense of independence in his son. But this rigidity—this intense apprehension and mounting strictness—was new and unfamiliar, and it was more than enough to alienate Cal. Even Cal's stepmother, Evalynne, who was usually the worrywart of the married pair, found the drastic change in demeanor to be concerning. And it was painful to watch, seeing the slow deterioration of Cal's otherwise great relationship with his parents into a slew of virulent arguments and bristling against authority and long, tense periods of spiteful silence.

Honestly, Tierno couldn't stand it. He'd always been a little envious of Calem's living situation—er, minus the icky divorce that had occurred before Cal had moved Vaniville—especially after his own Père had left him and his mother when he was barely four. Yeah, he'd rather not get into that, but anyway. It was really the worst thing in the world, watching a parent-child as strong as this weaken and falter and fall over dead. Probably the worst part was that Tierno didn't think of anything he could do. It would be intrusive to get involved, too impudent to force an adult to have a healthy conversation with their child, and Calem had made it very clear it was something he explicitly did not want someone else fixing for him.

Which left Tierno with nothing to do but sit back and play therapist. The listening part, anyway.

"...I know why," Cal said quietly. "That doesn't make it better."

Tierno wasn't sure what to say to that. There were some rhythms you just couldn't dance to.

Trevor glanced up from whatever he was doing with his Dex—probably scrolling through the entries out of whatever scientific curiosity the ginger harbored in that big noggin of his—and pursed his lips, like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to say it.

The lights flickered suddenly, dark to light to dark to light again. Everyone tensed, looking at the ceiling as if trying to detect the source of the power failure—which was admittedly silly, because the light source was the lamp to the right.

"What the hell was that?" Trevor asked.

"Looks like the power faltered," Calem said. "Which, isn't surprising. Père said that rest stops out in the country like this one aren't as well maintained as those closer to Gym towns." A pause, married by a frown. "If either of you tell him that I was actually paying attention to any of his lectures, I'll kill you with a breadstick."

Tierno blinked. "Why a breadstick?"

Cal shrugged. "First thing I thought of."

"You guys are weird," Trevor muttered.

Something in Cal's pocket trilled, and Calem groaned.

"Kill me," he said as he pulled his Caster out again. "Five minutes. The man can't give me five fucking minutes of peac— Uh, what?"

"What is it?" Tierno asked.

"It's my Mère," Calem answered, his voice thick with confusion.

Trevor perked up. "Wait, seriously?"

Calem just blinked vacantly at his Caster.

Tierno and Trevor exchanged a glance before scrambling over to the other bed. Tierno took a seat on one side of Cal, sitting on the edge so that his legs dangled over, while Trevor plopped himself cross-legged to Calem's left. "Put her on speaker!" Trevor said excitedly, "Put her on speaker!"

Calem frowned at them. "Why?"

"Because your Mère is awesome," Trevor answered, just as eager.

Tierno had to agree with that. Calem's Mère worked two awesome but strenuous jobs, one full time and the other more of a hobby that required some pretty hardcore dedication, and somehow owned her cluttered schedule rather than let it own her. While she had reluctantly relinquished her joint custody after Cal moved, she made up for it with constant video-chats and the occasional visit. Said visits often included grand gestures—one example Tierno could think of was when they were nine and Calem's Mère took them to an amusement park when they were kids, and they'd all unanimously agreed she was the most "fun" mom among them—but that wasn't the only content of her parenting style. She was just the right blend of indulgent and disciplined, good at grand gestures but also there for what followed. And that included, but was not exclusive to, offering emotional support and encouragement whenever it was needed, though she was a bit more proactive than her ex-husband in regards to said matters. Rather than pushing, like how Monsieur Lafayette was and obviously producing negative results, she had a much subtly approach, dropped hints when she saw something wrong and giving out little bits of ambiguous advice to let you know she was aware of whatever was troubling you, but she'd let you come to her on your own—really trying to emphasize the whole bond-aspect of parenting. At least, that's how Tierno saw it. Calem, though, sometimes complained that she was overly nosey and too indirect.

Parenting style aside, she once took them to a Veteran's Tournament in Lumiose when they were ten and the seats were awesome. So, yeah, she was pretty cool.

Calem glanced over Tierno inquisitively, to which Tierno offered a fervent nod. Cal rolled his eyes and pressed the answer key.

His Caster flared to life, the blue light of the 3D hologram projector manifested into a woman with wavy hair pulled back into a high ponytail and a pair of glasses framing her flinty eyes. Cal mostly took after his Père, but a few, subtle touches of his Mère could be seen in his features. And for a woman pushing forty, she still looked quite young—and Tierno in no way meant that in a creepy-weird, I-have-a-crush-on-your-Mère kind of way.

"Hi Madame Rousseau," Trevor and Tierno said in unison.

Madame Rousseau smiled back. "Hi boys." She paused briefly, expectant. And when no one else spoke, she rolled her eyes. "Bonjour, Calem. Really, you can't say hello to your Mère without someone prompting you?"

"Why are you calling?" Calem asked bluntly.

Tierno elbowed him in the ribs. Calem let a sharp "ow" and shot him a glare in response.

"Really?" Madame Rousseau's dark lips drew into a tiny frown, like she'd just bit into a lemon. Tierno couldn't tell the color because of the blue hologram light, but he guessed red. She seemed to favor that color because of how professional it looked. "That's how you say hello?"

"Yeah, not cool man," Tierno agreed. He knew Cal was blunt as a hammer, but, c'mon, seriously.

Calem shot him a shut up look before turning back to Madame Rousseau, his countenance painted with incredulousness. "Mère, no offense, but you rarely ever make unannounced calls. Usually you stick to the whole call-schedule thing, and that's because of your job and everything, which I get. But when you call unannounced, it's usually because something bad's happening. Like, really bad. Last time, for example—"

"Okay, okay." Madame Rousseau held up a hand in surrender. "I get it. But believe me when I say my reasons for calling a very benign."

"Oh my god." Cal pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're going to meddle, aren't you?"

Ah. That made sense.

"Do you want me to meddle?" Madame Rousseau asked, feigning innocence.

"Not particularly."

"Too bad."

Calem groaned.

"Look, normally I wouldn't be making calls like this," said Madame Rousseau sternly, "but your Père called and—"

"Are you kidding me?" Calem interrupted, infuriated. "Are you— Unbelievable."

Madame Rousseau blinked once. Then twice more. "Cal?"

"He called you to get you on his side." Cal pinched the bridge of his nose again, barely concealing his anger. Tierno and Trevor exchanged a looked before scooting back a little bit. They knew Calem well enough to give him a bit of space. "That is so— I can't even believe he did that! It's— It's— It's petty is what it is! Oh my god."

"Calem, dear, what in earth are you talking about?"

"Look," Calem ground out, antagonistic and borderline furious, "it is my freakin' life, and if I want to set out today, then that is my business—"

Madame Rousseau leaned in forward, suddenly, her perfectly shaped brows raising in intrigue. "You set out today?"

Calem faltered. "Wait, what?"

"Goddess, my only son sets out on his Journey and he doesn't even bother to inform his mother so she can celebrate this momentous occasion!" She sat back and clutched her heart with both hands, drawing a close-eyed, wounded expression. "And here I thought I had been a good mother!"

Cal's eyes flashed with alarm. "I, uh, w-wait a sec—"

She cracked an eye open, a mischievous grin slicing her face. "I'm kidding, dear. You're almost an adult and you're capable of making your own decisions without consulting your parents. Still, at little notice would have been nice."

Tierno leaned in and whispered, "You seriously didn't tell her?"

Calem whipped around to face the dance so fast that his dark hair came back around to slap his cheek. "There was a lot going on," Cal whispered back, "and Trevor was complaining about punctuality. I kinda forgot."

Tierno frowned.

"Don't give me that look!"

Madame Rousseau frowned that tiny little lemon-tasting frown of hers. "Why? What happened?"

Calem turned back to her and painted on a false smile. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Her frown deepened slightly and her flinty eyes flashed between Tierno and Trevor. She tilted her head back, looking very proud and serious and a little aloof—she was quite intimidating when she did that, something Tierno's own Mère could never pull off. He suddenly felt like a five-year-old caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Boys," she said sweetly, "wanna tell me what's going on?"

Tierno had the sudden urge to hide. "Uh, well, it'll probably come up eventually?"

She arched a single brow, clearly not impressed. Another thing about her, she had a nose for crap but little tolerance for it.

"It's a thing with Cal and his Père," Trevor mumbled, not brave enough to meet her gaze.

Calem shot them a glare, but Madame Rousseau relaxed. "I see," she said mildly. "Well, in that case, you don't have to tell me. If it's between you and your father, Cal, then let's keep it that way. Goddess knows you need me butting in."

"Merci." Calem paused, frowning. "Wait, then why did you call?"

"Well, that's the thing." She sighed, adjusting her glasses. "See, I actually got this call a couple days ago and I'm just now following up on it—which says a lot about my work schedule, doesn't it? Ma Déesse, it's a nightmare—but, anyway." She paused, as if for dramatic effect, and Calem rolled his eyes. "It's about some girl your Père mentioned. Celine or something?"

"I don't know anyone named Celine, Mère."

"Well, it was something along those lines. I know her last name is 'Lavieaux'."

The reaction was instantaneous—Calem threw his head back and groaned. "Fuck my life!"

"Language, young man!"

Calem slumped forward and pinched the bridge of his nose again. "I really don't want to talk about this."

"Too bad," Madame Rousseau retorted, a subtle edge to her tone. "Normally this is the sort of thing I would stay out of, but Elouan was quite insistent. He said if you hadn't worked it out with her, then you needed someone other than him to talk to you. And your stepmom backed him up, which has me even more worried."

"Well, you don't need to worry," Cal said flatly. "We worked it out, everything's roses and sunshine."

Tierno frowned. "Serie said you guys fought just today. She said it was why you were so late."

Calem rounded on him immediately. "Why."

Madame Rousseau exhaled through her nose. "O-kay. Sounds like I need to step in."

Cal turned back to her. "No, you really don't."

"Calem—"

"You don't even know what it's about," Calem objected.

"Actually, I do, because your father told me. And if it's anywhere as serious as it sounds, we need to talk."

Calem clenched his jaw. "There's really nothing to talk about, Mère. She almost killed Alistair and she acted like that was okay. There's really nothing I can do about that."

"She tried," Trevor muttered.

Cal turned to him. "What?"

Trevor pursed his lips and averted his eyes.

Tierno sighed. Once again, it was up to him to step in before this turned too ugly. "She tried to apologize earlier, but you kinda brushed her off."

Calem frowned. "Did Rena tell you that, too? Because that did not count as an apology."

"What are you talking about? I was there."

"What are you talking about?" Cal's frown deepened. "Last time I checked, you weren't at Shauna's place today."

"I'm talking about the gymnasium," Tierno said. "A couple days ago, after the actual battle? After Celie left and Shauna followed her, then she came back and tried to apologize. And you kinda told her to go to hell. In less kind words."

"Calem!" Madame Rousseau gasped.

Calem blinked. "She did?"

"You don't remember?"

Calem's expression went totally blank. "Uh..."

"Dude," Tierno groaned.

"Well, he was pretty hysteric," Trevor pointed out.

"But she was— She was just so—" Calem made a few incoherent gestures with his hands. "Intentional. So why would she—"

"She's Kantonian, isn't she?" Madame Rousseau interrupted.

"What?"

"This girl, whatshername. Evalynne said she was Kantonian. Is that true?"

"Well, yeah, but, I don't see how—"

"Okay, that explains a few things," Madame Rousseau said with a hint of a sigh.

Calem balked. "Like what?"

"Well, Monsieur Know-it-all, what do you think is the hardest part about being a Trainer is?"

"The battles, obv—"

"Wrong," Madame Rousseau interrupted. "You might think it's the battling—and I did too, as a beginner, all beginners think that—but it's actually navigating the cultural diversity."

"The what?"

"Cultural. Diversity. You'd be surprised how much a region's culture can affect the mentality of Trainers and their battle styles, and especially their values. And that's particularly true of Tohjonians—good Goddess. I've only met a couple and I can tell you for a fact that you will never encounter a culture as zealous and as adamant about battling as them.

"To them, battling isn't a test of skill or a test of bonds, not like it is here. Rather than being viewed as a sport, it's actually a way of life for these people. Each battle is a duel in defense of the Trainer's honor, in which backing out is humiliating and Reaper Battles are perfectly acceptable. Don't make that face, Cal, I never said it was right, I'm just telling you how they think. And I know this because I made the same mistake you did when I was younger. I had what I thought was a friendly match between myself and a Trainer from Johto, and before I knew it I was locked in a Reaper Battle. The thing is—if you don't say it's Non-Reaper, they will just assume you're willing to take it all the way.

"And I'm assuming you didn't do that? Specify that it was Non-Reaper?"

Calem looked away. "Well, no, but—"

"Exactly. In her eyes, she was justified, and it was a mistake on your part, not hers."

"Shauna said something similar," Tierno added, just because he was starting to feel like he wasn't part of the conversation and that maybe he shouldn't be listening in. But hey, if he put in his two-cents, then that justified him being here, right? Oh, and it had to helpful. Definitely helpful. "About how it was a cultural thing and that's the only reason Celie acted like that."

"Well maybe Shauna can apologize for her," Calem snapped, the edge in his voice screaming butt out.

But Tierno knew Cal well enough to tell that the annoyance was mostly superficial anyway, so pushing just itty bitty bit more wouldn't do too much harm. "She tried to. You kinda blew up at her, too."

"That's what I really don't get about you," Trevor piped up. "You ask for an apology, and when you get one, you act like it's not good enough. And this sort of thing has happened before, too, so."

"Yeah, but Cal doesn't think straight when he's pissed," Tierno reminded him, just because Trevor was starting to wander into touchy territory.

Calem glowered.

"Hey! It's true!"

"Can I talk again?" Madame Rousseau asked with strained politeness that made Tierno regret butting in. She could be rather scary when she wanted to.

Calem turned back to her, exasperated. "Let me guess—you're going to say something like how I shouldn't be mad because it was a miscommunication and I should just let it go."

Madame Rousseau snorted. "Hell no. The girl almost killed your Fletchinder, you have every right to be mad. Hell, when I fought that Johtonian, I was so mad I nearly had Azula torch the guy. But then he explained it to me and I realized it was justified—but I was still fucking pissed." She paused abruptly, eyes widening slightly, and she looked at them with an edge of urgency. "You did not just hear me curse, understood?"

Calem rolled his eyes.

"Look, what I'm trying to say is that it's not wrong to get mad, Goddess knows you got my temper. But what I'm trying to say is that getting mad isn't exactly the best solution," she said, and here she actually started to sound like a mom giving her kid a lecture. Tierno felt a twinge of sympathy for Cal and wondered if there was any way the dancer could discreetly slip out of the room to give them some privacy. Though, he doubted Trevor would be so willing to follow. "And it's probably not the last time you're going to deal with this, either, because Kalos is a goddamn tourist trap with all those ancient-y castles and crap, and a lot of those tourists are Trainers as well. As a Trainer, you're going to have to navigate a variety of cultures and sometimes it'll just drive you nuts—but. Getting angry and throwing a fit won't solve anything. It certainly hasn't solved this issue, clearly.

"Long story short, Cal—you need to learn how to deal with this sort of thing, and the sooner, the better. This girl is probably just as frustrated as you and getting mad won't help anything. Now, before you complain, I'm notsaying to apologize. You haven't done anything wrong. I'm not saying become her best friend, either. What I am saying is to trying and consider her perspective, even for a second, be a little less hostile from now on, and try to avoid blowing the issue up like this in the future. Learn from your mistakes. Okay?"

Calem's jaw worked, and he was trying not glare but he was failing rather miserably. There was a contemplativeness there, thoughts spinning around in that head of his, eyes flashing with something not quite tempered—oh yeah, you bet he got Madame Rousseau's temper. Tierno and Trevor exchanged a glance and Tierno wondered if Cal would say something he could regret later, and then have to watch this turn into another full-blown argument. Would they have to sit back and watch Cal's relationship with his Mère deteriorate too?

But Cal sighed and the tension in his shoulders relaxed. "Fine. I'll talk to her. Happy?"

Madame Rousseau adjusted her glasses with a wry smile. "I'd be happier if you were a little less grudging, but that's not something I can really control."

"Whatever."

"Calem, I'm really not trying to lecture you," she said. Her voice had lost the authoritative edge in favor of something softer, something almost apologetic. "I just want you to acknowledge that there are other opinions out there besides your own, and accepting them is part of life. And believe me, as a reporter, I can understand being impartial more than anyone. It's a necessity in my line of work. But it's a necessity for a Trainer, believe it or not. And... if that's what you really want to do... well, then I want you to succeed. And if I have to butt in, the goddammit, I'm gonna do it, okay?"

At this, Calem seemed to relent a little bit. "That's... thank you. That's actually pretty cool of you."

"Well, duh! I am the cool parent between your Père and I."

"Okay, I'm hanging up now."

Madame Rousseau grinned impishly, the white of her teeth shocking against her lipstick, and waved. "Je vous aime, Cali-kinz!"

Calem growled something along the lines of "don't call me that!" and promptly hung up.

"So, does this mean you're going to go work things out with Celestine?" Trevor asked. "And not be such an ass all the time?"

For that remark, the ginger was rewarded with a pillow whacking the side of his head. Calem got up and stalked over to the other bed, grumbling something about how everyone was ripping on him today and how he couldn't catch a break.

"I was joking," Trevor muttered, rubbing the side of his head. "Ow. Fuck. I'm gonna feel that in the morning."

Tierno winced sympathetically. He knew from experience Cal knew how to make even the softest pillows hurt like hell, and stiffer ones like those the rest stop stocked could be deadly weapons in the hands of Calem Lafayette. You could blame Shauna and her insistence on hosting sleep overs almost every week as kids.

Calem grunted and flopped down the other bed. Tierno watched him laid down—noted the tension in his muscles, the scowl fixed to his face—and frowned. Something was off. Sure, Cal had never liked the pet name his Mère had given him as a child, claimed it was way too cutesy and childish and resented Shauna for using it occasionally, but usually he would just brush it off with an exasperated sigh or an eye roll and mutter something about his Mère was cheesy. It would never really bother him, not this much, not usually.

"Is something else bugging you?" Tierno asked.

"No," Cal answered, a little too quickly.

That was the clincher.

"Okay. What happened?"

Cal huffed. "Nothing."

"Calem," Tierno said in an all-business tone that made Calem stifle a groan. "I have two superpowers. One, the ability to dance to any rhythm and become a human beatbox at will—"

"That's two separate things," Trevor interrupted.

Tierno shot the ginger a politer version of Calem's shut up look before turning back to Cal. "And two, I can read people. Especially people who've known each other for almost ten years. So, I'm gonna ask again—is something else bugging you?"

Cal didn't answer.

"The receptionist?"

"What? No."

Strike one. "Something involving Celie?"

Calem's mouth twitched.

Home run. "Oh, god, what happened?"

Calem sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't worry about it. I'll... deal with it. It's really not my place to say."

"Okay?" Tierno had honestly not been expecting a response like that. He'd expected something more like "it's my business, not yours", "I can handle it just butt out", or something like that. But "it's not my place to say" was new and a little concerning. God, what did he say to Celie? Or what did she say to him? "Uh, anything you can say?"

Calem hesitated for a long time before he shook his head.

"Cal."

"It's nothing," Calem said, turning his gaze up to the ceiling. "It's stupid."

That was more along the lines of a standard response from him, which was little more reassuring, honestly. "Fine. Say it anyway."

"It's something Celestine said. Don't worry about it."

Tierno paused. Another thing involving Celie, huh? Geez, those two were really tangled up. "Quick question—is it related to the other thing?"

"What? Oh, uh, no."

"So you can talk about it if you want?"

"I guess? But I really don't want to—"

"For Pete's sake," Trevor grumbled. "You know you're gonna end up telling Tierno anyway 'cause he's our group therapist. Just get it over with."

"Group therapist" is actually a pretty good way of putting it, Tierno thought with a light sigh.

"Fine." Calem sat up and folded his legs. "Earlier today, at Shauna's place, Celestine and I were arguing about the battle incident."

Not that surprising, from what Serie said. "And?"

"And... I dunno. I said something about how she was brutalist and she said something about how I was hypocrite because..." Calem paused, his face twisting. "Because I didn't put Alistair in his Ball after the battle. I just, kinda forgot about him while I argued with her."

Tierno felt a twinge of guilt at the mention of the Alistair incident. After all, it has been Phillipe, Tierno's Corphish, that Celestine had borrowed for the battle.

"And... she's right. I just. I blanked. I put my pride in front of his wellbeing and I..." Calem averted his eyes and hunched his shoulders, but it didn't do anything to mask the vulnerability that was peeking through. And Calem was rarely vulnerable, rarely second-guessing himself. This obviously affected him more than he was letting on. He let out a heavy sigh, from deep within that little corner where Cal tended to shove all his negativity. "So much for Trainer's instinct and all that crap."

"Well, it's crap because there's no such thing," Tierno said, which made Calem frown. The dancer held up a hand in a silent plea not to be interrupted just as the Trainer was opening his mouth to speak. "Look, what you have is battle instinct, and that's why you're so great at battling. Sometimes, I kinda envy you for it—but that's not really instinct either. It's learned behavior."

"Um, what?"

"Y'know. Move power, classification, the Type table and stats and all that stuff that makes my head spin." And here, Tierno drew on a playful smile. Calem just rolled his eyes in mild amusement. "But you memorize that, and then it becomes secondary knowledge, so when you battle, in the back of your mind you're thinking about all that stuff. Trainer's instinct though? That's just a myth made up by veterans who've been doing the whole Trainer gig so long it's second nature."

"...Serena told you that, didn't she?"

Tierno chuckled. "You got me. But the sentiment still holds, y'know. We're all just starting out here. You can't honestly expect to be good at it after a few weeks of local battling, Cal."

Calem's shoulders slumped. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right."

"You'll get the hang of it," Tierno said warmly. "And this a chance to learn from your mistakes."

"God, you sound like Mère."

Tierno laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment!"

Trevor arched a brow. "You really are being too hard on yourself, Cal. I mean, the whole purpose of this Journey is you wanting to become a better Trainer, right?"

"Well, yeah... I mean, I guess so..."

"Right," said Trevor brightly, in a rare moment of encouragement. "And I mean, we're all out here to improve too. I want to learn as much as I can, Tierno wants to see a buncha Pokémon moves to incorporate into his over-the-top dance routines—"

"Excuse you!" Tierno laughed, giving the smaller boy a light shove. "My dance routines are perfect and only gonna get more perfect, thank you."

Trevor huffed and rolled his eyes. Calem chuckled. For a moment, all the negativity that had plagued them before was gone, and it was like a breath of fresh, springtime air.

"Whatever," Trevor went on. "But Shauna's making memories to grow as a person, and then you're challenging Gym circuit to become a better Trainer."

A soft smile curled Calem's mouth. "Yeah, I guess."

"Although," Trevor continued—a hot flash of panic went through Tierno when he realized that Trevor was going to keep pushing this, oh god, this was not going to end well—as he slipped his Dex into his pocket again, "I gotta wonder why."

Cal's expression changed, suddenly dark and guarded. "Why what?"

"Why you're doing this," the ginger said innocently, seemingly unaware of the tension mounting in the air around their friend. Oh, there went that springtime breath of fresh air. "I mean, I'm traveling because a lot of young researchers do and it looks good on an application. Plus the real-world experience is a pretty damn awesome bonus. And I already mentioned Tierno getting inspiration for his dance routines—"

"Uh, Trevs? Maybe you should just—"

"—and Shauna's been on a carpe diem kick ever since her uncle died two years ago," Trevor kept going, completely ignoring Tierno's attempt to intervene, and oh boy, this was going to end so badly, "but I really don't know why you're doing this. I mean, other than that job you took in Lumiose last summer, you've never really been all that interested in battling— Where are you going?"

Calem was standing up—eyes dark and flashing like the ocean, fraught with shadows and mysteries too deep to understand—and marching towards the door with all the presence of an oncoming storm. "I'm going to go train."

Trevor hesitated, seeming to realize he'd pushed too far. "It's... it's dark out, Cal."

"I'll manage." The door whipped open and slammed closed, the air seeming to snap as the tension followed Calem out of the room.

A still silence descended over the two. Trevor curled up in on himself and groaned softly, burying his face in his hands.

"I fucked that up, didn't I?" the ginger murmured.

Tierno sighed. "Little bit, Trevs."

"Shit. This is why you stop me from talking," Trevor said softly, his voice shaking just a little, "so I don't say shit like that."

A pang sliced Tierno's heart. "You were doing fine up until the last part, though! You just need to figure out how to not push so hard."

Trevor didn't respond.

"And figure out when you've hit a sensitive topic. You need to work on that too—but you're getting better! Way better than a few years ago!"

The ginger sniffed and looked up. His silver eyes were somewhat misted. "I just hate it when he does this."

"I know," Tierno mumbled. And he understood, too, because they were still recovering from the last time Calem shut down on them like this. "Just give him some time. He'll talk to us when he's ready."

"Okay." Trevor got up stiffly. "Think he'll come back before we fall asleep?"

"He's gonna have to."

"What makes you say that?"

Tierno pointed to the nightstand, where a pair of plastic blue cards sat next to the lamp. "He forgot his room key."

"Oh." Trevor frowned. "Damn, he's gonna wake up in the middle of the night, isn't he?"

"Probably." Tierno stood up. "I'm gonna head back to my room and get ready to bed."

"Okay. Just don't snore through the walls," the ginger said idly, which made the dancer frown but he chose not to comment.

After a quick bid goodnight, Tierno found himself in front of his room, and as he swiped his card, he recalled the last time Calem had pulled away from them. How it had nearly broken them apart and irreparably changed things. They were still recovering, still getting used to a new normal.

I hope you know what you're doing, Cal, Tierno thought, because you're a part of this group, and everything you do affects us too.

---

Current Team:

Delphi, Male Fennekin (Lv 6)
Docile, Takes plenty of siestas
Ability: Blaze
Moves: Scratch, Tail Whip, Ember
Met: Vaniville (Aquacorde) Town

Max, Male Pidgey (Lv 3)
Naïve, Very finicky
Ability: Tangled Feet
Moves: Tackle
Met: Route Two

---

Author's Notes:

One: I apologize in advance if I misrepresent anything here. I'm trying to not define the characters by their sexual orientations, nor am I just tacking them on for the sake of diversity. They will be explored later for character development purposes.

Two: Love hotels are a real thing. Look it up, I dare you.

Three: "Bonne nuin" and "oyasumi" mean "goodnight" in French and Japanese respectively. Père is French for "father" and mère is French for "mother". A little more formal than affectionate. Also, "je vous aime" is French for "I love you", but refers to platonic love rather than romantic, so like family members and good friends. That sort of thing.

Four: The other Pidgey's name is Tanner. I do catch him later.

Five: Serena being modest is NOT a lesbian thing exclusively, but Shauna is less modest and interprets that being shy about changing means she's attracted to Celestine, because Shauna herself wouldn't feel shy about changing in front of someone unless she was attracted to someone.

Six: Calem's parents ARE divorced, and this happened a long time ago. It was a little tense at first, but they're amicable now. And yeah, "Madame Rousseau", as she will called for now, will make a reappearance, and she did return to her maiden name. She's Serena's mom's sister, so she's Serena's aunt in addition to being Calem's mom.

Seven: Okay, for clarification—Calem and his do NOT have a bad relationship. HOWEVER, recent events have placed a strain on their relationship, which is why you see that shouting match.

Eight: Calem has shut down on them before. It was big deal.

I struggled with the last part because I was writing from Tierno's perspective and it felt a little forced. But it all worked out in the end. I think? I feel like that ending was too abrupt. But overall, I like how this went, even though there were some strained parts.

That's all for now,
Luna