Flower

"How did it start?"

In some ways it was the most obvious question, but Hala figured the answer – the story, most likely – would give him plenty more subtle ones to ask. For now he needed the basics. Guzma had been his odd house guest for a fortnight, and while they had settled into a kind of routine, he was still angry and unsociable. He didn't get along with Hau, and when Hala dragged him out around the island, he didn't talk or help. When people spoke to him, he shouted back. If they were friendly, he put on his intimidating act, just as he'd done in front of Ilima.

Hala had made it clear that day: he would never be intimidated by Guzma, and he could even physically restrain him if necessary. Since then, his outbursts had lessened, and he was more careful. It was saddening, but effective. A start.

Now, Guzma sat on the opposite sofa, arms crossed, glaring at the table. He was still wearing his old Team Skull jacket, though the skull was painted out. Sentiment or practicality?

"How old were you, then?"

He shrugged jerkily. "When what?"

"When you formed Team Skull."

Guzma gave him a derisive look. "I didn't."

Hala waited, keeping the calm smile on his face. Eventually, Guzma heaved a theatrical sigh and offered, "It was that kahuna. They were her fans. After she disappeared, they latched onto us instead."

Hala had heard the story of the old Ula'ula kahuna; he'd even met her, once or twice. Much like the current one, she hadn't been interested in appointing captains, and nobody went ahead and appointed themselves as Acerola had. Instead, she simply battled everyone who came to challenge her. Unlike the other kahunas, she never held back. Her full team went out, every time.

He pursed his lips. "You said 'us'. Who was that?"

"Plumeria. Me and her were the older ones. The strongest ones."

"And the gang formed itself? The logo, the signs, everything?"

"I don't know! It just...happened. One day one of the kids gives me this gold necklace, 'cuz of the trophy thing, and then the next they're drawing it everywhere. Started calling it a team. Said they wanted me to be boss." Despite his annoyance at Hala's questioning, he found himself smiling. "Big bad Guzma who could scare everyone away."

"And what did Plumeria do?"

Guzma's grin dropped away, brow creasing as he thought. "She was different. Smart. She wanted more."

"How so?"

"I don't know." He gave a long pause. Then, quieter than Hala had ever heard him speak, he said, "She always had this Poisonium Z. Couldn't use it. Too old for the trials. But she kept it, said it was important. For the future."

Interesting. Hala might have to see about getting the girl a Z-Ring. "Did you think about the future?"

Guzma scoffed. "No point. I had everything I needed."


Poison

The house loomed even beyond the town's wall. It was a weird place, enclosed, all centralised around that mansion. The grunts lined themselves up in two neat rows, five apiece, and waited. Every one of them was tensed up and ready. Guzma could sense their restlessness, felt it jangling in his own nerves. They had been sleeping rough for too long. If Team Skull was going to be a thing, they needed a base. Somewhere to claim as theirs, where others could find them.

He was at the front, with Plumeria. There was enough distance between them and the others that he could lean over and mutter, "You sure about this?"

Her stare didn't waver from the house. All of them had been looking around, observing as people took shelter in their houses, locked their doors, pulled their curtains at the sight of so many teenagers in gang getup. Not Plumeria. Her eyes were focused, intense, glaring at the mansion as if she could burn it to the ground.

Hell, if that was what she wanted, Guzma would do it.

"I'm sure," she replied. Her fists were tight, posture rigid, but he could see her breathing steadily. No panic attacks today.

After one last hesitation, she took a step, and Guzma matched it. Behind them, the grunts fell into line, chattering and joking, building themselves up for the mess they were about to make. Plumeria set a steady, slow pace, and by the time they reached the doors the kids were bouncing off each other in excitement, whooping and making up their dumb rhymes about their strength, their coolness, and most of all, how they were fearsome, and Guzma most of all. Nobody messed with the boss.

Guzma let Golisopod out, which elicited a few more shrieks of anticipation. It distracted them from Plumeria opening the door.

"Spread out," Guzma hollered once they started filtering in. "Find the food, and the bedrooms. This is our place now, ya hear? This is Team Skull's base! I wanna see some mess! I wanna see some destruction!"

Cheers and raucous laughter from the gang, who took doors at random into the house, pulling paintings off the walls, knocking over furniture, and making enough of a racket that whoever was in would know they were here. Guzma and Plumeria stood in the hall until they had all gone. He waited, and she led the way.

She took him up the stairs to a wide circular landing, and straight into what looked like the master bedroom. The door was shut, but she glanced at him, and he kicked it open for her. That left him at the front to see a well-dressed couple in their late fifties cowering on the opposite side of the room.

The words came to him without thinking. "What are you doing in my room?" he demanded at the top of his lungs. He swaggered forwards, Golisopod at his shoulder, and the couple drew back, eyes on the Pokémon. Golisopod wasn't going to attack them – Guzma would much rather do that himself – but it didn't hurt to have the backup.

"Didn't ya hear me?" he shouted once he was closer, widening his eyes. "This is my room now! Get out or I'll make you!"

"W-Who are you?" the man demanded, with a protective arm around his wife's shoulder.

"We're Team Skull, old man. We take what we want! You wanna fight me?" He pushed forwards, raising his arms invitingly. "Huh?"

"That's enough, Guzma," Plumeria said, from the doorway. His blood itched to hit them, especially the whimpering lady, but he moved back. This was her show. She walked forwards with that casual poise she had, placed a hand on her hip, and said in a tone of clearest ice, "This is my house now."

"Plumeria?" the lady gasped, squinting. "Is that you under there? What is all this?"

"I'm taking the house."

"You can't just take—" the man began to object, but clammed up when Guzma lunged forwards again. Plumeria waved him back insistently, and he ground his teeth, but stopped. He folded his arms and watched, eyes narrowed, daring him to object again.

The lady kept going. "We raised you and you left us, and now you come back demanding the house? This house would have been yours if you'd acted at all like you wanted it. Why now? Why like this? Is this how you thank us?"

Plumeria's stare was withering. "It's the thanks you deserve."

She turned on that, and left. Guzma grinned, moving forwards again even as they carried on protesting. "Come on, granny!" he yelled, leaning to say it almost directly into her face. "You heard the lady, get out of here!"

Self-righteous they may have been, but physical threat was something else entirely. Plumeria had always made clear that they'd never hit or intimidated her, so there was no fight to be had. Just two old, horrible people who deserved anything they got.

"If I see you here again I'll crush you!" he shouted after them as they hurried down the stairs. As they went out of sight, he heard the gratifying sounds of his grunts calling insults and taunts to them as they exited the property.

He walked back out onto the landing and found Plumeria at the doorway of another room. Neat and tidy, with a well-made bed, a couple of dolls...

"A little girl's room," she supplied when she noticed him. "For a little angel."

He snorted. "Wanna trash it?"

She took a deep breath, still frowning. He hardly ever saw her without that frown. "No," she decided. "No, I think I'll make it mine."

It didn't make sense to him, but it didn't have to. She knew what she was doing. He shrugged, and made for the door. She held out her hand, and he slapped it. It was the closest she ever came to thanking him.


Po Town

The walls were still foreboding. Even more so now that they weren't his.

"Wooooow..."

Guzma clenched his teeth.

"Sure is miserable here!"

He kept putting one foot in front of the other. Through the gates, past the captain's barricade they'd stolen from Acerola. He always had to smile – inwardly, of course – when he passed that. The grunts were so proud to have hauled it back from the beach.

The house loomed again, windows dark, lawn overgrown.

"I can't believe you lived there!"

"Would you shut up?" he finally snapped, turning on the offender. She grinned back at him, completely unperturbed, and continued skipping towards the house.

"Why is she here?" he demanded next, of Hala.

Hala glanced over his shoulder, entirely unsympathetic. "She offered her help. Why would I turn it down?"

"Because I don't need help," he retorted.

"Hey!" Acerola turned, placing her hands on her hips. "My uncle spent months keeping you guys in check! Without him you would've gotten into even more trouble!"

"Nobody asked him to get involved!"

"Well, if he wasn't, I wouldn't be here offering places to your grunts. So there!"

With that, she flounced away to check the Pokémon Centre. Relieved, Guzma carried on with just Hala. They didn't speak as they entered the Shady House, as it was known to the rest of Ula'ula.

It smelled of dust and damp. Some of the windows had been left open, and the rain had blown inside, rotting the carpet. In the dark, Hala moved slowly, cautiously. Guzma easily left him behind, navigating the still-familiar halls with no need of light.

He went to Plumeria's room first. The house would never look like this if she was still here, but it was worth checking anyway.

The door was open, and the room was empty. He flicked on the light, seeing the blankets had been stripped from the bed. The dolls, makeup, and her other belongings were still there. He glanced over his shoulder, and then opened a little gilded box on her shelf.

Her Poisonium Z-Crystal was gone.

He sighed, and turned around to find his room, leaving footprints on the dusty plush carpet. He left Plumeria's light on, casting a pale glow and long shadows up the stairs with him. He reached the top landing and circled around to what had once been his door. The debris blocking it off had been cleared up.

There was a light on inside. He paused outside, listening. The sound of quiet conversation. He considered knocking, but hey, it was supposed to be his room. He pushed it with a foot – not quite kicking it open, but also not needing to, since he'd busted the catch making an impression on Plumeria's parents.

He barely had time to take in the three grunts bundled in blankets on the floor when they jumped up, throwing themselves at him in tackle-hugs that send him staggering back against the wall. "Guzma!"

"Hands off!" he shouted, and they dropped back, faces bright with excitement. "What are you doing here?"

He looked between them. He remembered them now: Daisy, Noni and Pepper. The room smelled of sweat and old food, and though the lights were on and the windows were shut, it was chilly. The three of them looked significantly worse for wear: Daisy's hair was tangled at the ends, Pepper's tank top had a big hole showing his stomach, and Noni's hair dye was showing roots. Not that Guzma really understood why they'd all gotten matching hair.

It was Daisy who spoke first, always the loud one of the trio. "We were waiting for you, of course! This is Team Skull's base!" She stamped her foot for emphasis, while the other two added their agreement via the gang hand signs.

"We knew you'd come back, boss!" Pepper added.

"Weren't you listening before?" he demanded, voice rising to hide how touched he was. "Team Skull is over! I'm not your boss anymore. So you can get out of here!"

"No way!" Daisy insisted. "Team Skull for life!"

"You'll always be our boss!" Pepper agreed. "Big bad Guzma!"

He was about to respond when footsteps sounded behind him, and he turned to see Hala entering view. "Guzma, are you alright?" he asked, taking in the three teenagers.

"Aaah!" Noni roared, grabbing a Pokéball. He threw it, and Guzma caught it before it could open.

"Calm down!" he yelled. "He's with me. Listen, the team is done! We don't have money anymore; the others have already quit! Stay here if you like but there's! No! Point!"

Silence.

Very, very quietly, Daisy began to cry.

Guzma swore fluently, but only inside his head. Aloud, he said, "Don't look at me like that! You couldn't tag along with me forever!"

"I won't quit!" Pepper declared. "We're a team, we'll always be a team!" Noni grabbed his arm, and he returned the grip. "Where else are we gonna go?" he added. "You can't leave us behind, boss!"

Damn it all. Guzma grabbed Pepper's shirt and pulled him up to say into his face: "Did I say I was going to?!"

Pepper blinked rapidly. "No?"

"Exactly!" Guzma let him go, not noticing how Pepper blushed as he retreated. "This old man is Hala. He and Acerola have talked to some people and sorted you places to go. Daisy," he pointed at the girl to get her attention. "Quit bawling! Mallow's got you an apprenticeship at Konikoni Restaurant, so you can be a proper chef!"

Daisy's eyes widened, tears instantly forgotten.

"And you two, Acerola's still running the Aether House! You can stay there—"

"Actually, Guzma," Hala interjected. "If I may?"

"What?"

Hala straightened, clasping his hands behind his back. "If you want to stay a team," he said, nodding at Pepper, "I suggest you make it something worthwhile. You're going to come with me, since you've got nothing better to do, and I'll teach you to be proper trainers."

Pepper and Noni both looked at Guzma.

"What's that look for?" he snapped. "I'm not your boss, ya boneheads! Do what you want!"

"Guzmaaaa!" Noni cried, jumping forwards to hug Guzma with surprising speed. The other two immediately joined him, their six arms hugging tight enough that Guzma couldn't shake them off.

"Hands off!" he yelled. "Hands off, I said didn't I?"

But they didn't listen.


Bug

"Well," Acerola chirped after Hala had hauled the grunts off, who were protesting at being separated from Guzma. "They're great, aren't they?"

He didn't reply, arms folded, glaring out at where the doors had shut behind the group. Why did he have to be left alone with the ghost girl?

"The Pokémon Centre is empty," she continued. "All the houses are boarded up. A few more months and I might have to move my trial here!"

He'd already had to deal with Daisy. She'd been thanking him so fast the words had gotten garbled. As if it was him who had gotten her the job.

Guess he owed Hala now.

"So is there anything else you want to do here, or can we go back to Uncle's?"

He'd see Pepper and Noni again, at least. He'd meant to ask them what had happened to Plumeria.

"Guzmaaaa," she sang, waving her hands at him. "Hello?"

She'd probably left. She'd probably saved most of her money. The Aether Foundation had paid them for donating Pokémon, especially rare ones, but also for jobs. Plumeria had been leading the team that kidnapped Lillie. The best-paid job they'd had.

Daisy, Pepper and Noni had probably been stuck. Telling themselves it was loyalty, and not money, that kept them there.

Waiting for him...

He became gradually aware that Acerola was saying his name. "...ma Guzma Guzma Guzma Guzma—"

"Shut up!"

"Hi!" she grinned. "Welcome back. I was saying, is there anything else to do here? Because I'm cold."

"You're wearing a dress," he retorted, heading back into the house.

She followed him, of course. "I'm royalty, you know. It's only right that I dress well!" She giggled. "Get it? Dress?"

He didn't deem that worthy of a response. Nor did he wait for her as he began climbing the stairs again.

"This really would be a great place for a trial," she mused as she followed him, apparently having no difficulty with the dark. "And hey, a barricade is already here!" she joked. "It took me weeks to make a new one, you know that?"

He ignored her, entering his old room and beginning to search amongst the collected blankets, clothes and junk. They'd taken the bedding from every room in the house to keep warm. Stupid. They should have just left...

"What're we looking for?" Acerola asked, gamely starting to pull blankets off furniture. She tugged a stained sheet, revealing a large chest.

"That," he replied shortly, pushing past her and picking it up. Faint clinking sounded from inside as it tilted in his arms, before he got a good grip on it and turned to go back downstairs.

"I know that souuund!" Acerola sang, dancing ahead of him and turning to waggle her finger. "That's the sound of Z-Crystals! You were an Island Challenge Champion, Guzma? I don't remember you."

"I fought the old kahuna."

"Oh!"

She didn't speak for a long moment as he strode ahead, thumping down the stairs. He liked that he could silence people by saying that, bringing up the person who still made everyone so uncomfortable. And the implication that he'd beaten her was even better.

"Wait!" she exclaimed just as they were leaving the town, making him jump. "So is that the Buginium Z? You had it the whole time?!"

So many damn questions.

"I can't believe it! We looked everywhere for that after Uncle was chosen! We thought she dumped it all in the sea just to spite us. And then when your grunts started stealing the rest we guessed it was because you didn't have any. What a mean trick!"

"I'm returning it, aren't I?"

"Thank you," said a new voice, making him jump again. He wheeled around to see Nanu emerging from the shadows.

"Where did you come from?" he exclaimed.

Nanu jerked a thumb in the direction of the police station. "I live here," he said dryly. "I came to collect the Z-Crystals."

Guzma handed them over, hiding his relief. That chest was heavy.

"Good work."

He opened his mouth to retort, and then saw the remark had been directed at Acerola, who beamed. "It was nothing!"

"Hey!" he cut in. "I did all the work!"

Nanu shot him a dismissive glance. "You undid your mistakes."

He opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came.

This had been his fault, after all.


Kahuna

Wimpod was tucked into his shirt, head poking out from under his collar, watching the world go by from his safe place. Guzma could tell he was nervous. His whiskers twitched unhappily and his body was coiled tight, ready to run. Or, more likely, ready to drop down and crawl around to Guzma's back, where he felt safest.

He pushed on, inching around the tall grass and finally breaking through to the village.

It was a cute little place, nothing like back home. The kahuna's house was the first thing to greet arrivals, but he passed it and went for the Pokémon Centre. He approached the counter, waiting in line after a ten-year-old who had skinned knees and tousled hair, who was handing over six standard balls to the nurse.

"You're working really hard today!" she commented brightly as she put them in the machine.

"They're doing their best, miss," the kid said. "I'm sure we'll be able to beat her eventually."

The nurse smiled, but the creases around her eyes told Guzma she didn't agree. She handed back the balls and assured the kid that they could come back anytime.

Guzma nudged Wimpod into his ball and handed it over. She gave him her sunny smile. "Welcome to Tapu Village."

Wimpod was done in a moment. He hadn't been seriously hurt, really, but Guzma couldn't be too careful. He'd still not beaten any trainers. One Pokéball had been as much as he'd been able to afford, after food and the occasional place to sleep.

As she handed the ball back, he plucked up the courage to ask, "Is the kahuna here still the bug lady?"

Her smile tightened, like people's usually did when he spoke to them. "Yes, she is. Her name is Canna."

He released Wimpod again and pocketed the ball. He left before she could ask the question people always asked about Canna: you're not going to fight her, are you?

He knocked on the door of the kahuna's house. A tall, pink-haired girl opened it, and gave him a critical look. "You're a bit old for the trial, aren't you?"

"Who the hell are you?"

She nudged the door further back with a toe, leaning against the wall. "I'm Plumeria. Who are you?"

"Where's Canna?"

"Fighting some kid. You here to challenge her?" She was looking at Wimpod's big, timid eyes poking from his shirt collar, the faint play of a smirk around her mouth.

"I already beat her," he said, pushing past her into the hall.

Her eyes turned to him properly this time, and she followed him. "For real?"

"I did the challenge like everyone else."

They reached a door. She shouldered ahead of him before he could open it. "Don't run your mouth about that here," she warned him. Her gaze was deadly serious. "Not everyone finishes it."

She opened the door. Guzma saw a large room that had perhaps once been a lounge, now gutted of furniture and bearing the marks of countless battles. There were a dozen kids packed inside, ranging from Challenge age to almost as old as Guzma, all wearing matching green-grey T-shirts and cheering as Canna stood in the middle of the room, on one side of the area marked for battle, laughing at her Ribombee as it flattened a woefully unprepared Raticate.

The kid from the Pokémon centre was there, and though he put on a brave face, tears were clearly in his eyes as he made his way out of the room, sliding past Guzma without looking up. For a stark moment, Guzma thought of bronze trophies.

Then the kahuna's eyes were on him, analytical, sizing up his potential challenge. "Who's this?" she asked. Plumeria only shrugged.

Guzma locked eyes with her.

It had been years, but she looked the same. Young for a kahuna, and full of the pride a position would bring. Her belt was lined with her Pokémon, slung over her hips above dark green shorts. She wore a khaki tank top and had tattoos on both shoulders: one Beautifly, one Beedrill. Her eyes were green and hard and narrow as she looked him up and down. Then her lips curved in a smile. "I remember you," she said.

The room was still uncomfortably packed with kids, and Guzma was aware of dozens of eyes on him. He fought to keep his face on. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She moved closer, scrutinising his face. "You're one of the champs. I remember your hair. Incineroar, wasn't it?"

He nodded.

"I remember. It was a good fight. What are you doing back here, kitten boy? Where's your team?"

Wimpod chose that moment to sneak a peek out of Guzma's shirt. Canna's eyes widened, and she burst into a high, bubbling, laugh.

"Is that all you got?" she said. "A little Wimpod? How'd you get all the way out here with that?"

Guzma pushed Wimpod back down, but he did it gently. "I beat you with my team, when I was a kid," he said. "Now, no team, but I'm still strong. You got any captains?"

"Don't need any," she said, tossing her hair. It was a sharp black bob that flicked out perfectly with the practised movement. "Especially not one with a single baby on it. You turn that wimp into a Golisopod and we'll talk."

But her eyes went back to him after turning away, and he knew she was interested. She remembered. Only a handful of kids beat her every year. Like Plumeria had implied, those who failed got stuck on Ula'ula for a reason. It was her that they failed to.

The room was full of them. Many of them, he noticed, were looking at him with respect.

It felt good. Wimpod felt his heart beating faster, and twitched, getting ready for battle.

"Who wants to have a go against this champ?" Canna invited the room. "Anyone think they can beat kitten boy and his struggle bug?"

This was a language he understood. He grinned, waiting for the first kid to take him on.

A boy stepped forwards from the crowd, as it widened to give the battle arena room. "One on one," Canna declared. "Pick yours, squirt."

"My name's Koa," the kid announced, looking at Canna. Guzma recognised that look: he was trying to impress her. "I pick Charjabug."

Mutters and ooh sounds fluttered around the room.

The boy rubbed the Pokéball twice before opening it. He was trying to put on a cool look, standing with his hands in his pockets, but his shoulders were tense. Guzma was twice his height. He nudged Wimpod forwards, who reluctantly skittered down his leg and took position.

This was stupid. He couldn't expect to win against that type matchup.

No. No, he would win. He was stronger than all of these kids, because he'd beaten her. And sure, he didn't have his friends anymore, but he had Wimpod, and the two of them could take on the world.


Tapu

It was the first and only time he heard Plumeria raise her voice. She screamed.

"Tapu!"

Guzma was awake instantly. He recognised her voice. He recognised fear. If it was the tapu she was afraid of, something big was happening.

As he rolled out of bed and pulled his T-shirt on, he heard the kids banging at Canna's bedroom door, wailing her name. He filled his pockets and burst out, running straight into Taro, who had been about to knock for him. "What?" he said, raising his voice to be heard above the crying.

Taro was thirteen. His eyes were wide and his face was white. "It's attacking," he croaked. His voice had started breaking two days ago, but more than that, it was terror. "It's attacking the village."

Guzma had decided never to swear around the kids. He swore. He pushed his way through the crowd begging for Canna and kicked down her door.

He didn't see her immediately. Her curtains were drawn. Her room was a mess. There were clothes and papers everywhere, but amongst that, trash. Almost as much trash as there was anything else. Guzma had never been in her room before and he could see why she didn't want anyone in there. It was like seeing her naked.

Worse still was when he found her in the dark. She was a lump in the bedspread, her pale face moonlike amongst the blankets. "Guzma?" she whispered.

Guzma looked behind him. Plumeria was already there, waving back the kids. "Get out of the village," she instructed them. "Go in pairs or threes. No, I don't care—no, shut up. Listen to me. You can come back when it's over. Stay away from the Megamart."

He moved closer to Canna on the bed. Words jammed his mouth, too many, accusatory, upset, furious, and afraid. "What are you doing?" he asked eventually.

Her voice was hoarse with terror. "It's my fault."

"What?"

"I told them it was okay."

She stared down at the bed. Guzma felt a surge of rage, at her, at her room, at her pathetic shape under the blankets. This was the woman he'd looked up to for so many years, the women he'd modelled his new team after, and she was hiding in bed because she'd screwed up and couldn't face the consequences.

She was supposed to be strong.

"The Thrifty Megamart," Plumeria filled in from the doorway. "They asked you if Tapu Bulu would be alright with it being built so close to the mountain."

There was a distant crash. Canna flinched. Guzma heard a sob.

Realisation was long and slow and sick.

"You didn't go, did you?" Plumeria said, echoing his own thoughts. "You haven't been in months." Her voice climbed in pitch, stretched like a rubber band. "You couldn't be bothered, because you had to go through the desert to get to the ruins so you didn't go and how he's attacking the village—"

"We have to go!" Guzma cut in, snatching the blankets from Canna's bed. She jerked in surprise, and he pulled her arm. "Come on!"

She resisted, but he was stronger than her. He pulled her to her feet and dragged her from the room. Plumeria fell back, checking every room to make sure nobody had been left behind, while Guzma led Canna downstairs and to the door.

She was pale and trembling. The smallest, softest spot in his heart felt sorry for her, but mostly he was annoyed. Wasn't she the kahuna? Hala would never be this weak.

Then the light, brassy sound of the tapu's bell jangled across the room.

"Plumeria!" he shouted.

"I'm coming!" she called back. He heard her footsteps on the stairs. Canna had pulled away from him into the wall, stammering unintelligibly. Guzma turned to look for Plumeria and saw her, gently guiding Noni. Of course it was Noni, the youngest of the kids, unable still to tie his shoelaces or do basic sums. Guzma felt like his chest was being squeezed as he looked at the crying kid and Plumeria, so patient, her voice so calm, telling him he was going to be alright, when it wasn't.

And Canna against the wall, useless.

He opened the door.

He reached into his pocket.

It was stupid. He couldn't win this fight. This time, he knew for sure. But strangely, he wasn't afraid. As long as he could still fight, he wouldn't be afraid.

"Sorry, buddy," he murmured to the Pokéball, before he pressed the release.

Tapu Bulu stared down, eyes on fire, and Guzma stared back.


Team Skull

Guzma watched from the window as Hau battled Pepper and Noni simultaneously, defeating two Pokémon with one, laughing the whole time without a care in the world.

He'd never understand that kid.

Noni, though. He had been dwelling on Canna, after explaining things to Hala, and he now understood why Noni, of all of them, had always been the most loyal. The fiercest grunt, making up the rhymes and playing around with words. When Daisy and Pepper had adopted him as their honorary little brother, his devotion to Guzma had rubbed off on them. Only those three had stayed at the house.

Noni had been the only grunt to see Guzma facing down the tapu.

Daisy's first letter had arrived yesterday. Guzma had pretended not to listen as Pepper read it out loud, Noni hanging on his every word. She was working hard. She loved the family and the city. She dedicated a full paragraph to describing the first dish they'd taught her to make. Then, Hala had helped the two boys write a letter back.

It still stung Guzma to recognise neither of them were literate. He'd taken that time from them.

Noni's frustrated yell broke him out of his thoughts. Pepper was now battling Hau alone while he ran down the hill towards the Pokémon Centre.

Not seconds later there was another yell, and Hau abandoned the battle, running after Noni. Pepper started, turned, and then ran too. Guzma looked but couldn't see what had happened. He was out of the house before he had a chance to think.

No sooner had he turned the corner did he see why Hau had run with such speed and urgency. Noni had walked into long grass.

Idiot! Guzma thought to himself, and reached for Golisopod, eyeing the distance, whether he could throw that far. But the yellow-orange flash of Hau's Raichu defused his concerns, and he stopped to watch as Pepper dragged Noni back, and Hau dealt easily with the offending Raticate.

Guzma breathed heavily. His hands were shaking. He watched the pair ascend back up the hill, Noni watching the grass, Pepper watching Noni. Their progress was gentle, unhurried. Guzma could hear Pepper promising that they would take Noni's Pokémon to the Centre together later. Words brewed in Guzma's head, the anger combining with the momentary fear and forming a string of reprimands. Neither of them had noticed him, and he opened his mouth to draw their attention with the first insult.

Hau caught up then. He slung an arm around Noni's shoulder. "That was scary, huh!" he said. "I'm glad you're okay, Noni."

Guzma's words died in his mouth. He watched as Noni turned his bright smile on Hau, his admiring smile. "Thank you!" he said. "You're really strong, Hau."

Guzma knew that smile, had been on its receiving end for years and never appreciated it. Noni had always believed that Guzma had saved him, saved all of them, and now someone else had rescued him too.

Guzma squinted, trying to figure out why he was annoyed further by this. That should have made him happy, shouldn't it? He was rid of them. They'd gotten the message. He wasn't their boss anymore. They were going to do something new. Something without bothering him.

He went back inside before any of them noticed he was there.