Manny stomped outside the Battle Tower as though he were a Hariyama preparing for battle. Passersby stared at his tantrum, only to walk by; the small attraction lost in the currents of their daily lives. The pain in his feet made Manny feel a little better, so he stopped attempting to break the ground and sat on it instead, sending death-glares at anyone who dared to make eye contact.

"Manny?"

"WHAT?"

Mint jumped at the shout, and so did a few people nearby.

"I bought you lunch."

Manny slapped the ham sandwich out of Mint's hand. Mint offered him another, so Manny took and tore into it with his teeth, chewing in fury. He swallowed half but did not taste a thing. The tears came again.

"Ten years," he choked, spraying breadcrumbs and snot everywhere, "and he just beats me up and throws me out again."

"You'll win next time."

"That's not the point!" Manny shouted, pounding the ground with one fist, the forgotten ham sandwich in another. He could not see a thing with all the water in his eyes. Blinking was not helping. "Doesn't ask me how I've been, doesn't ask me what I've been doing. Just blasts me out of the Tower like I was some faceless Trainer."

"Tell your Mom."

Manny sniffed hard, a disgusting sound.

"Yeah."

He helped Mint clean up the mess before climbing onto Keira.

Mint placed a hand on Manny's knee. "Manny, Mom warned me about minding my own business, so I'll stay here."

"It's cool, Mint. Thanks for the sandwich," he hiccupped and sniffled.

A shadow passed overhead. It was a giant Pidgeot, over six feet from beak to tail. Manny wondered who the rider was.

888

When Manny related the story, Johanna was outraged. She was so angry that she forgot to change her homeclothes. She slammed the villa's front door open, rampant in her cruelty-free Buneary slippers, mini terry robe and cotton lounge pants.

Her husband was waiting beside the pool. When had he arrived? Manny had not heard a sound!

The crazy and strangely stealthy man raised both eyebrows. "Johanna, you're lovely."

"BASTARD!" she shrieked, keeping her distance. Her voice echoed off the marble flooring. Manny forgot his own anger against the contrast of her livid rage. She was so utterly consumed by it that she was shaking and crying.

Her husband nodded. "I deserved that."

"Am I so hideous to you?" she continued, but her voice was a broken flute this time. "Is the prospect of raising a child so monstrous that you ran away from us both?"

"The dreams, Johanna-"

"Come back to us, please. This is the real world. Your fantasy land of Darfou doesn't exist. Tovy, Lola, Donovan – they're dreams."

"I loved Lola, even though she was a dream."

"This woman is real!" Johanna pleaded, crushing both fists to her belly. "The woman in front of you is real! Not her!"

All feelings and emotions drained out of Manny. He had never, never seen this side of his mother before. He wanted to cry, to hug her, to do anything but stand there like a mute, paralysed lump of flesh. It was like the Old Chateau nightmare all over again.

Meanwhile the delusional bastard spoke. "I had to make sure, Johanna. Had to make sure Naahrin was not real, was not a threat to you, Manny, or anyone else."

Johanna dropped her hands, a dull glaze covering her red eyes. "That's your big excuse? You still haven't found a better one? Even if this world were ending, I want you here with me. I wouldn't even want you to save it. The world may burn," she sobbed, "it may burn, as long as you're here."

For the first time the lunatic wasn't smiling. "The world needs a saviour. You're irresponsible, Johanna."

She shook her head. "You chose to pursue imaginary demons when the real demons were here at home. The demons of loneliness and abandonment! The demons a little boy has to face without his father! The demons a wife has to face without her husband! The bad things were here! You dare to call me irresponsible?"

"The good and the bad are both inside us, Johanna."

"You were so blinded by imaginary evils, you forgot the truth. You chased the future but left the present behind. Let the future rest! It will come in time!"

By this time Persian had returned from her daily hunt. She took one look at her three beloved. She had not smelt her Trainer's mate for a long, long time, but she remembered him. She remembered his rough hands giving her the most glorious petting that ever was or ever shall be. Now she smelt anger, fear, sadness. Something was terribly wrong with her three beloved but there was no enemy for her to kill. So, she slunk behind Johanna, wary, uncertain, keeping both eyes on her Trainer's mate.

The mate noticed. "Persian is gorgeous."

Johanna placated the beast by rubbing circles around her ruby forehead orb. Persian purred like a well-tuned diesel engine.

"She is. I have her Beauty Master Ribbon in the house."

"Wow. I couldn't win a contest to save my life. Nice house, by the way."

"Manny got it for free."

Her husband laughed, scratching the back of his head.

"Did he now? Talented and lucky! I couldn't ask for a better son."

Manny hated that his heart swelled with those words.

Johanna's mouth curled into a wry grin. "How lightly you call him your son, as though you have ownership of him."

"I did not come here for a custody battle. I came here to say goodbye."

Persian's ears perked. She heard with perfect clarity her Trainer's muscles contracting all at once, to the point that the woman was shaking from head to foot. She was staring at the ground, her nails cutting into her clenched palms. On pure instinct Persian snarled and dropped into a battle stance, but again, there was no enemy for her to kill. Only her three beloved were there.

"Johanna, I am not fit to be a father or a husband. You and Manny have become Pokémon Masters in your own ways. I could not be prouder, or more grateful that I knew you at all. Live long and prosper."

She had one thing to say, spoken in a very, very soft voice: "I challenge you to a Pokémon battle."

Persian leaped to the fore, fangs and claws bared. She understood this! She remembered! Her Trainer and Trainer's mate had often battled in the beforetimes, before the long goodbye, before the Trainer's belly swelled, before the third beloved was born.

Manny ran between his parents, waving his arms like a Sudowoodo.

"Mom, don't! He beat me and Mint with two Pokémon!"

His mother's voice was calm but more adamant than Steelix. "Your opinion is noted, Manny. Now stand aside."

Manny had never heard that voice before. A Tyranitar was less intimidating than that voice. He had no choice but to obey, but retreated to the background while the adults were talking.

Johanna continued in that imperious tone. "The match will be fought, one versus six. You're carrying six, aren't you?"

"I always do, unless I'm doubling up. Johanna, this is madness. You can't win."

"Do you accept the terms?"

Her husband frowned, reaching for his first ball. "I do."

The combatants looked at Manny, who blinked a few times before comprehending. He lifted one hand. "The match will be fought one versus six. Begin the battle!"

He chopped his hand downward. His father flung his first Pokéball.

"Golem, go! Use Rollout!"

A diamond ball thundered across the battlefield, cracking the marble flooring in his wake. Golem was so polished and smooth that he scattered the sunlight into golden sparks.

"Dig!"

Manny's father smirked for the briefest moment while Persian burrowed underground, avoiding the rolling ground attack. His Golem, polished to a mirror finish by countless battles, had survived Ice Beams! He stopped smiling when Persian erupted from the earth, shattering diamond with her claws, causing Golem to lose balance and fall onto his back.

"Get up, Golem! Use Magnitude!"

"Night Slash!"

Persian was far swifter, bypassing Golem's nigh-impenetrable defenses with blazing black ferocity in her claws, shattering diamond once more. The ground Pokémon tumbled head-over heels, ending belly-up, his rocky hide gouged wide open.

Manny raised his hand. He had never been so frightened in his life. "Golem… is unable to battle! The round goes to Persian!"

Manny's father opened and closed his mouth like a Magikarp. "I… I don't… ugh! Gyarados, I choose you!"

The massive seadragon slithered from his Pokéball. He was the size of their former home in Twinleaf. He attempted to stare down Persian, but the fierce look in the feline's incarnadine eyes would not be intimidated!

"Use Ice Fang!"

"Power Gem!"

Before Gyarados got close, Persian's forehead orb emitted a brilliant light, striking Gyarados with raging green energy. The serpentine Pokémon jerked backward, his gaping mouth hitting the ground behind Manny's father. The sinuous blue body twitched once or twice, but rose no more.

Manny wanted to faint, but sheer terror kept him awake. "Gyarados is unable to battle! The round goes to Persian!"

His father's jaw twitched. "Well played. Pidgeot, go!"

Manny recognised the six-foot long Pidgeot he had seen in the Frontier skies. Huge for her species, she was nonetheless sleek, with piercing black eyes, her rainbow crest like the fletching of an arrow.

"Use Aerial Ace!"

"Fake Out!"

Both Pokémon blurred, disappeared, leaving dust in their wake. Forty feet above the battlefield, Pidgeot's beak drilled deep into Persian's chest, causing spittle to fleck from the feline's maw. In that instant of agony, extending her badly bruised body to the limit, Persian chomped down hard on a wing, eliciting a sharp shriek.

"Pidgeot, snap out of it! Use Wing Attack!"

Pidgeot was in too much pain to respond!

"Power Gem!"

The green energy torrent, charged with Earth's might, punched Pidgeot into the ground with authority, sending a huge dust plume skyward.

"Pidgeot is unable to battle!" Manny knifed his hand into the air as the cat landed lightly on all fours, wincing. "The round goes to Persian!"

"You've forced my hand! Alakazam, go! Use Psychic!"

Again, Persian was not the swifter. She got tossed into the air, encircled by blue light, crashing earthward.

"Assurance!"

Dark energies consumed the feral feline. She let out a fearsome roar as she charged into Alakazam, her terrible ebon aura empowered by her injury! Manny was not sure where the Psychic Pokémon landed, somewhere in the copse of trees to the east, breaking a few of them down as he crashlanded. The boy stood on tiptoe, squinting with one hand over his eyes.

"I think Alakazam is unable to battle!"

"Agreed," his father conceded with a growl, not taking his eyes off the feline foe.

Manny did his karate chop. "The round goes to Persian!"

"You're pushing me too far, woman! Vaporeon, GO! Use ICE BEAM!"

"Counter with Power Gem!"

Earth and Ice collided at the centre, preceding the detonation that flung both combatants into the sky. Persian, however, had greater air control: while Vaporeon floundered in insubstantial air, Persian somersaulted toward the villa, coiling her wiry body against the vertical second storey wall, claws digging into stone, before launching herself in a horizontal airdash, a furry rocket with claws.

"SLASH!"

Persian did just that, shredding Vaporeon's fins before the water Pokémon even hit the ground in defeat.

"Vaporeon is unable to-"

"ENOUGH!"

Manny gawked at his father. There was madness in that man's eyes, more than usual. "Farfetch'd, GO! End this pointless charade with NIGHT SLASH!"

Manny saw a small brown bundle of feathers drawing a leek battou-jutsu style, leading with her left foot despite drawing the leek from her left hip. Such a manoeuvre increased one's speed by a factor of ten, but could easily amputate one's left leg. However, this samurai was driven by an indomitable will born out of a joy and love for life. Thus, though her motion created maximum exposure, Farfetch'd maintained absolute purity of line, the leek finding its mark on Persian's face. The cat bounced several times across the ground, crumpling at her Trainer's feet.

"This battle is over," Manny's father muttered. Farfetch'd sheathed her leek in her feathers.

Manny stared aghast at the sight of his mother and her punished prized Pokémon.

"Persian!" Johanna cried, dropping beside her beloved companion. "Persian!"

"Make the call, Manny!" his father snapped.

"Persian… is unable…"

He was interrupted. His mother was speaking softly, stroking Persian's ears. "Persian is my friend… she's my companion…"

Johanna's eyes became clear, and sharpened. She rose to her full height, pointing one finger to the clouds.

"NO!" she thundered in majesty, almost toppling her son and husband with the force of her voice. "SHE IS MY SOUL!"

Persian was on her feet again, something so strong shining in her crimson eyes. Father and son looked between Johanna and Persian, but in that glorious moment, neither could tell which one was the Pokémon and which one was the Master. The circle was complete, but the spiral had only just begun!

"WHO DO YOU THINK WE ARE? PERSIAN, USE THUNDER!"

The static electricity built up in her fur over the course of battle was unleashed with a royal roar! Heaven's judgement descended upon Farfetch'd, smiting the samurai with the wrath of gods, scattering millions of sparks. Feathers flew. Farfetch'd fell, the leek rolling from her grasp as Manny chopped his hand downward with finality.

"Farfetch'd is unable to battle. The victory goes to Johanna and Persian!"

Johanna sank to her knees. Persian breathed, looked at Manny's father, and tottered across the broken battlefield. She limped past the charred Farfetch'd, inch by painful inch, and pushed her frazzled head into his hand. She knew this rough hand. There would be glorious pettings once more, and maybe this time... maybe there would be no more goodbyes.

The man knelt, gathering the wounded warrior into his arms. Persian did not fall unconscious: she chose to fall asleep in his arms.

Manny walked up to his father. "Dad, you defeated Mint and me with only two, but when you fought Mom for real, using all your power, you lost! How?"

The man looked at his son, stroking Persian, who purred in restful tranquility.

"Son, I was fighting your mother because I wanted to distance myself from her… and you. She, however, was fighting me to bring me back home."

Manny was on the verge of tearing out his own hair. "I still don't get it! Stop speaking in riddles!"

The man was a bit wiser, now, having been thoroughly vanquished at the height of his power. He was ready to admit his failure and grow to new strengths, and he tried to communicate this feeling to his son: "I was fighting, assuming the power of death. She was fighting, assuming the power of life. Death cannot win."

Dry-eyed, he carried Persian to the Pokémon Centre. Johanna followed him, carrying Farfetch'd. As they walked, she leaned against the man's arm. She remembered this arm. She remembered this smell. He did not shirk her touch, and the tiniest crack opened in that great ten-year-old wall between them.

The man turned and, still cradling Persian, managed to toss a Pokéball at Manny.

"Pick up Alakazam for me, would you son? He hasn't come out of the forest, yet."

Manny caught the ball, but stood stock still, staring after them with a knot in his heart.

"Hey, boy!" his father called. "Do not stand there like a befuddled Miltank. I asked you to do something."

"Yes, Dad," Manny replied, running into the trees to find the one left behind.