Binaural

by Minusbomb

Matthew Alexander has been missing for thirteen years but he is present to this day, attempting to dodge his past and avoid a very grave future. Neither human nor pokemon, something more. When he meets Shali, a tribal Lucario with a special power of her own, they must face the evil that is Team Saber and defeat them before their plans are sought through. Human x Pokemon.

13. Hiraeth

Hello everyone!

No, this story is not dead. I've been meaning to get back into it for the longest time but only recently found the motivation. I want to finish this story and be able to look back on it fondly.

It may not have happened yet because I'm updating everything at once, but I have updated all the previous chapters. Anything with "Updated 28/02/2023" is the most recent version. It's mostly for grammar mistakes and detail inconsistencies, though I have added additional plot points to them. If you don't want to reread everything, you are 100% not obligated to. Nothing major has changed and you'll still be able to enjoy the story just fine.

With that, I present the long awaited chapter 13.

---

"Sometimes I don't know what the hell I'm doing. Sometimes I just want to drop this whole thing and try to live normally for just a day, even just a few hours. Is that too much to ask?

"I'll answer it for you: It is. It, one hundred percent, undeniably, is. I cannot stop at anything for this. No matter what it is, I need to push through and get it done. That's what I need to do.

"There is not a single exception I will make."

---

Matthew sat on his mattress, leaning against the wall. He took a glance over to Shali. She was sitting on the bed, awake, and was looking over her spear.

Last night he had been apprehensive to mention even a single detail of what he was feeling. Part of him had wished that he could lie to her, instead of telling her the hard truth. But he knew it was for the best. Everything came out all at once.

And yet, she didn't judge. She only listened, and there was only understanding and sympathy coming from her.

He had asked her a question, one that he was too afraid to ask himself, "So… I need to make a choice, right? What should I choose?" There were only two options: Continue what he was doing now or leave Brian and Shali and keep pursuing Team Saber. Abandoning his mission to leave messages about Team Saber was never going to be a choice. He couldn't live with himself if he did nothing.

Her reply was something he had expected and understood, but nevertheless felt underwhelmed by: "I don't know, Matthew. I understand that this is hard but-" she had put a paw on her shoulder; he remembered the comfort he felt from that, "-but I'm part of this choice you have to make, and because of that, I can't choose for you. I don't want you to leave but that shouldn't affect your decision."

He knew she was right, and was happy that she was there for him, but there was still the question of what to do. He needed something to push him over to one side or the other.

"Matthew?"

He looked up, Shali was on the floor standing. "Yeah? What is it?"

"I know you're thinking about last night. I'm sorry that I couldn't help you make up your mind then, but have you gotten any closer at getting your answer?"

"No, still on square one here." He stood up and stretched his arms, "And I don't think I'll be closer any time soon."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"I think so, it's just…" he sighed, "It's just a lot. I feel so selfish for even thinking of trying to keep my priorities balanced. Trying to stop Team Saber should always be the most important and yet, I've started… making exceptions to that."

He knew that little pause was all Shali needed for her to raise her aura sensors.

"Do you blame me for it?" Her voice wasn't sad, only calm.

Matthew shook his head. "No, not at all. I wanted to be your friend too, that was my choice, and I'm happy about that. But… this risk is immense..."

"Are Brian and I affecting your efforts to get messages out?"

He looked down and crossed his arms. "No, it's not that. Hell, Brian's been helping me realize the flaws in what I've been doing. On the other hand, if they find out you and Brian are with me then…"

"I know, you told me last night."

"Right. So… Yeah, I don't know what to do."

Shali smirked and twirled her spear around, "You know I could take them on without breaking a sweat, right?"

He chuckled quietly, "Yeah… Yeah you probably could." His chuckling quickly tapered off as he let himself get absorbed into his thoughts.

They were his friends. He knew that. But he also knew that there was risk. Unbelievably high risk. The potential nightmare that could come to fruition was a very harrowing one, Neo had said as much. If, somehow, Shali and Brian ended up in a situation where he couldn't stop the nightmare from happening, he wouldn't know what to do.

But leaving them to focus on Team Saber was so hard. Brian had been his friend since they were kids and after so long apart, Matthew felt that he was just starting to get that bond back again. And then Shali. Even though he had only known her for a week, she had been his first friend in such a long time, and they had already gone through so much together. To leave either of them was something he didn't want to think about.

Arceus, what was the answer? He had been thinking so hard on it and hadn't come up with anything that he thought was viable. Considering that, maybe the problem was that he simply did not know, but someone else did.

He realized it. There was only one person he could think of that would know what to do.

"You found your answer?" Shali asked. He looked over to see her aura sensors raised.

"No, but I think I know who might be able to point me in the right direction."

She tilted her head to the side, "Who is it?"

He hesitated for a moment. He didn't want to tell her. If he told her, they would only become closer. It scared him. The idea that if they became close enough, or were already close enough, that if the answer was to leave Shali and Brian, he may not even bother listening to it.

"I'll tell you when I get back," he said.

"I'm not coming with you?" she asked, standing her spear up on the floor.

"Sorry… You can't come with me. At least not today."

"Oh… okay."

He cringed. Shali had done her best to hide it, but he could make out the slight hurt in her tone.

"Look, it's not that I don't want you to it's-"

"I get it, alright?" she said, this time with noticeable annoyance. "If you want to go, then you can."

"Shali, you know that's not what-"

"You can go, Matthew."

He dropped his head. It hurt him to hear Shali like this. He wanted to tell her more, so much more, but he knew it wouldn't help now.

He turned and walked to the door, hating the silence that filled his ears.

He put his hand on the knob and stopped. "I'm sorry," he said. He felt so dumb saying that. What, you couldn't say anything more? Just that? He wished he could.

Matthew opened the door and stepped out. Once the door was shut, he put his face in his hands and sucked in a long breath. Why didn't he just tell her? Everything would've been so much simpler. What the hell was wrong with him? Shali cared about what was happening to him and he had just spat in her face about it.

He lifted his head up and gave it a shake. If he wanted to fix things with Shali, he needed to get his answer first. That's what was important now. Was it the right thing to do? He didn't know, but he also didn't know of anything else that could work.

"Smooth move, buddy," Neo whispered in his ear. Matthew couldn't see him, but he could tell Neo had that shit-eating grin on him.

He didn't bother responding, he knew what came from that.

He started walking down the hallway, feeling a light headache come on. He still needed to tell Brian that he was going out and he needed to be sure that what happened with Shali wouldn't repeat itself.

As he came into the living room, he saw the television tuned to a soccer game. Brian was lounging on the couch with Pele on his lap.

"Who's winning?" he asked half-heartedly.

Brian perked up and turned towards him. "Eh, not really paying enough attention to care. You look rough, what's going on?"

He sighed, "It's… a lot. I can't really go into details. Things are just really… complicated."

Brian nodded, petting Pele as he did, "Alright, fair enough." He stopped petting Pele for a second, "Did you need something?"

"Yeah… I'm going out for a little while, figured you should know."

"Oh? Where are you gonna head off to?"

"Uh…" Matthew caught himself. This couldn't go down the same way. "I'm going out to get my head straight. I've had some stuff on my mind for a while and I think it's about time to settle it down." He hoped that explanation would be enough.

Brian shrugged, "Alright, sounds fine. One thing though…"

"What's up?" Matthew crossed his fingers in his pockets in the hope that he wouldn't ask any hard questions.

"Where are you really heading off to?"

He clenched his fist but didn't show the strain in his face. He needed to handle this carefully. "Brian, I can't tell you that. I'm sorry, but that's just how it is."

Brian gave him an inquisitive look. Matthew knew it was nearly hopeless hiding information from a detective, but maybe Brian would show some mercy. If he kept pressing on him for more information, he wouldn't know what to do. He didn't want to hurt Brian the same way he hurt Shali, but he still needed to get out and find his answer.

Suddenly, Brian's expression softened, "Alright, I understand." He gave a small smile, "Just be careful, got it?"

Matthew sighed in relief, "Yeah, of course." He returned the smile as best he could, "I don't think I'll be long, a few hours at most."

"Take all the time you need, just be sure to come back."

"I'll be sure to. Promise."

He exhaled, relieved, and began visualizing where he needed to go.

One flash of light later, and Matthew was gone.

---

Shali saw the dim light flash underneath the door. She rested her spear on her lap and looked down. The moments of silence after the light had faded away gave way to reflection. It was not her right to act that way. Not in such a childish, narrow-viewed perspective of the situation at hand. She sighed, bringing her paw up and resting it against her face.

She felt her grip tighten and loosen on her spear, seemingly in tandem with her breath. In a moment, she felt as though she were having that same last conversation with her father. She didn't regret saying what she did then, but it didn't change the fact that for a brief moment, she had felt the same emotions then as she felt when talking to Matthew. And for what? For him just saying that he was going alone? She shook her head, recalling the brief, dissonant spark of anger she felt and feeling shame.

Matthew was not her father, and not anything like her father. He was not someone who pushed her away, who had little care if she was hurt, who was willing to push her into a life with someone she hated for pride. He didn't deserve that kind of anger, no matter what had happened.

And yet…

She looked down at her paw, seeing the Aperta symbol. It should have meant nothing to her now. It should have been nothing more than a marking that they shared. Still, for whatever reason, she felt its significance still.

She had wanted to go with him to wherever his mission took him. Whether or not she would be doing something played no role in her consideration of it. It was understandable when he said that she could not come along, but that did not damper her dismay. The feeling of being connected was strong and not something she wanted to sacrifice. She could accept not going with him when he delivered his messages but this time, it had just seemed so unfair to her. She had felt Matthew's hesitancy when she asked if she was coming. Why wasn't she allowed to come? Who was this person he was talking to?

She stopped and let herself breathe deeply. Her spear found its place next to her and she laid down on the bed. Frustration wouldn't get her anywhere. It was the same thing that had caused her outburst. Perhaps if she-

Three light raps on the door flipped a switch in her head. She jolted up, her spear coming with her, and stood in a defensive posture.

The other human, 'Brian', stood in the door frame, his fist outstretched to the door and resting on the wood. As his eyes found the spear pointed at him, he slowly brought his hands up to his chest, palms outward, showing that he had nothing in them. "Whoa, hey," he said, "Sorry for disturbing you."

"You were not disturbing anything, human," she replied, accentuating every syllable to make sure her message was clear to the human. Her spear remained directed at him, not wavering an inch.

He paused for a moment and gave her a look, "Right. Well, I'm sorry for scaring you like that. I thought you would've heard me down the hall."

"You did not scare me."

"What's with the spear then?"

She didn't reply, only keeping her eyes focused on the human. They had hardly interacted with each other, and she still felt far from comfortable with him. His odd aura of distress and panic when they first met had set her senses on guard, as though he were about to break into mania at any moment.

Now, he had an aura that was seemingly calm through and through and yet still she felt there was an inkling of instinct, ready to be triggered. She did not know and was not keen on finding out what could possibly come from that.

The human sighed and calmly dropped his hands to his sides. "Whatever the case, I thought you'd be hungry. Haven't seen you eat much since you got here."

That gave her a momentary pause. It was true, she hadn't been eating as much as usual. How could she, in a place like this? A completely new setting, only given little familiarity by the presence of Matthew, and accompanied by a human who she knew near nothing about and trusted little. Her appetite had, unsurprisingly, decreased a significant bit. The little food she had eaten over the last few days had come from Matthew bringing it at her request.

"I am fine. You can go now," she said, recognizing the same tone she used with Matthew but feeling no regret.

The human turned and walked out of the room, and out of her sight. She let her spear drop and her posture relax. The human was Matthew's friend. She knew that. And yet that aura of his continued to torment her. Because it didn't matter whether the human was kind. It didn't matter whether this was his home. The fact of the matter was she couldn't trust someone with an aura…

…so similar to her father's.

She thought she had gotten past it. Finally past that disconnect. And yet there was this reminder. She huffed, pulling her spear close to her body. It made her feel a small pit in her stomach. The idea that Matthew had a friend with an aura so alike to the one that she dreaded had given her a short-lived doubt about him.

Of course, she didn't blame Matthew for what the other human was. They had met a long time ago and he was likely different then. But that was then. Now, she felt as though she were in the presence of her father.

Nearly everything seemed to be against her, save for Matthew. She had tried to coalesce with the circumstances laid out for her, but it just couldn't work. The environment, the human, the aura. It just was not working.

And yet she stayed. Why?

What were you going to say, Shali?

"Hey!"

An energetic voice peaked her awareness yet again. She jumped up and fell into the same position as before.

But there was no one at the door.

"What are you doing?"

She looked down and saw the growlithe, standing on the bed near the edge. He looked at her with a tilted head, his curious yet excited expression unchanged despite her preparedness to fight.

She let her spear drop down to her sides. "Oh, it's just you," she said, sitting back down on the bed. The growlithe had a lesser impact during her time spent in the human's abode. He didn't have an aura that was harmful in the slightest, and was, at the very least, tolerable. Though her tolerance with him grew thin with how hyper he was. "What are you doing here?"

The growlithe took a few steps forward and sat down. "I heard a lot of noise and came here to check!" He tilted his head so it was level again, "What you did wasn't very nice."

"I didn't do anything that wasn't warranted," Shali readjusted herself on the bed, "That human didn't need to disturb me, but he did, and so I stood my ground, as any pokemon would."

"But… Brian's nice! He's just worrying about things a lot! He's been doing that a lot now," the growlithe replied, his hyper tone dropping off at the end.

"It doesn't matter what that human was worrying about, Growlithe. He overstepped his boundaries."

"Hey! His name is Brian!" The growlithe's two front paws stomped on the bed in vexation. "And I have a name too! It's Pele!"

Shali scoffed and averted her gaze from the growlithe, "A name given to you by a human isn't your name."

"Sure it is! Why can't it be?" The growlithe tilted his head to Shali once more.

Shali stared at him with astonishment. "You mean that the name you were given by your pack is the one you choose to ignore? Instead, you choose the name that was given by your captor? The one that took you away from all your family? You've made a sad choice."

She shook her head, her hand now resting on her spear. The growlithe couldn't see past his own ignorance. She didn't blame him for thinking in such a way; his young naivety helped contribute to the self-disparaging mindset he was in. It was the human that was the problem. To take away a pokemon from their pack unwillingly and not even give them the grace of keeping the name they were given was despicable. Of course, that was to be expected from someone who shared an aura so like her father. Someone who put his own needs before anyone else's, no matter what impact it had. Anything for his pride, nothing for his da-

"I didn't have a pack."

Shali looked at the growlithe. He held a small smile that had just a touch of woefulness. Giving a doubtful look, she asked, "What do you mean you didn't have a pack? growlithes and arcanines are always in packs."

He shook his head. "I hatched from an egg completely alone in the forest," his head lowered, "My parents weren't anywhere and I was really really scared."

Then his head raised and his smile was brighter, "But then Brian came and helped me! He stayed and looked for my parents all the way until night!" The growlithe looked to the side, "He didn't find them but…" his eyes went back to Shali's, "But he brought me home with him and let me eat a bunch! He's really nice!"

Shali felt her paw come off her spear, if only for a moment, before she rested it once again. She pondered over what the growlithe said. What Pele had said. That was his name. "And the human never took advantage of you at all?"

Pele laughed, rolling onto his side, "Brian? Of course not! I already told you he's nice, right?" He rolled onto his back, his legs in the air, "Don't lucarios have the special aura things that can sense feelings or something? That'll show you he's nice!"

Her thoughts went back to the human's aura. She couldn't say it was malicious or had any form of animosity lurking within its neutral state. Still, there was that dreaded similarity that she could not ignore. The echo of disconnect rang through her mind.

Pele rolled back onto his feet and went over to the edge of the bed, "C'mon! I'll show you how nice he is!" He jumped down from the bed and walked to the doorway. "Are you coming?"

Shali paused, almost surprised with herself that she didn't immediately answer 'no'. She was unsure of what to do. There was clearly more to the human than what she could see, but what was it? It was something that both Pele and Matthew saw in him, something that she could not see past the aura of. She needed to know what it was.

She grabbed her spear, got up, and walked with Pele to the human.

---

Matthew's eyes looked around, seeing the remaining cyan light surrounding him dissipate. It was complete darkness, except for the tiny sliver of light that shone through the entire bottom of the area he was in. An old, stuffy odor surrounded him, and a small cloud of dust accompanied it. On his back he could feel a few soft objects lightly brushing against him. He looked over his shoulder and saw sweaters on hangers lined behind him in a semi-ordered fashion. Alongside the sweaters were an assortment of hoodies, a few dress shirts, and one black and gold sports jersey.

He was in the closet. Right where he needed to be.

Slowly, he pushed his hands out until they reached wood, and the resistance that came with it. He reached to the right, finding the very edge of the closet door and slid it to the left. The door creaked with protest but slowly glided over the railings above.

Muted mid-morning sunlight washed over Matthew like a wave as the closet door came to a rest in front of its twin. Cautiously, he peeked his head outside. The window blinds opposite him were down, only allowing tiny piercing slits of light to pass through. He breathed out slowly, then stepped out of the closet.

To the right of him, there was a bed with blue sheets covering the mattress and a single white pillow lying on top. Next to the bed was a small side desk that held a broken lava lamp stacked on a couple books. To the left, there was a small work desk that laid bare, almost yearning for someone to come sit down and use it. The room had an omnipresent layer of dust, and the musty, almost antique smell that it carried pierced his nostrils, forcing him to suppress a sneeze.

This was a bedroom. His bedroom.

He made his way to the center of the room, feeling a little warmth from nostalgia. There were a few photos hanging from the walls, backdropped against a pale blue painted wall. Some depicted only himself, while others he was posed with a much younger Brian. The corners of his mouth turned up into a smile as he looked at them all over, reminiscing about a time so long ago. His eyes made their way over all the pictures, feeling the memories unearth themselves like a river eroding a cliff side, exposing the past rock beneath it.

He stopped at the photo hanging above his desk. It was him and Brian, each of them playing their own instruments. Matthew with his dark blue bass and Brian with his fire red electric guitar. They both had their hand on the other's fretboard while the other fingered and strummed the strings, no doubt resulting in many awry and clashing notes to be created. He turned to the right side of the desk, intrigued to see if the bass was still there.

No luck. All that laid there was an empty guitar stand where his instrument once stood.

He looked back at the photo. Their expressions were bright, like a radiant sunny day, and they had beaming grins that stretched from ear to ear. It felt almost alien to Matthew. It had been so long ago, and things had changed so much.

He had changed a lot. Brian had changed a lot. Even his room had changed a lot. What was once his space of freedom where he did his homework, hung out with Brian, and wrote music was now a greying, cold relic of a time long past. The life it was once spry with, his life, had been taken away and the room had ebbed away the warmth it once possessed.

Matthew gave his head a shake. Stop it, Matthew. You've gone on long enough. You came here to do something, and you're going to do it. You must do it, he thought, forcing his eyes away from the pictures. He needed to figure out what he was going to do, that was why he came here in the first place.

It wasn't his first time being with this person. Though every other time had been a careful observation from a distance, only ever in extremely crowded areas where he could get lost and not easily tracked. The moments were brief, no longer than a minute, but this time was different. That person would see him. He would see him for the first time in a long, long time.

"You really think you're gonna get the answer here? Seems a bit optimistic," said Neo, appearing in front of him.

Matthew turned away, I can't think of anyone else who could, he thought. And I don't need a complete answer, I just need to be put on the right track. He's helped me find that track before, I know he can still help me now.

Neo went in front of him again, "Even so, the fact that you would even come here for it is astounding. I'd call you delusional, but I doubt you need any reminding."

Matthew raised an eyebrow, What the hell does that mean, Neo?

Neo smirked and leaned against the bed, folding his arms, "I mean, really. Here? Him? You expect him of all people to give you an answer."

I don't-, Matthew sighed, I'm not expecting anything. But if he can help me at all, I'll take it.

"Yeah, help you, sure. He can barely help himself." Neo leaned back and rested his left leg on his right.

What the fuck did you just say?

"I wouldn't exactly say he's in tiptop shape, would you?"

Don't speak that way about him.

Neo shrugged, "I'm not wrong."

He's still the same. You know that.

"He's not the same, Matthew. And you're wondering why I called you delusional."

I'm not delusional. He'll be able to help, you'll see as much.

"Yeah, yeah. And you'll actually make a decision because that's definitely gonna happen."

Matthew glared at him. I'm going to talk with him, Neo. And I'm going to find my answer. Nothing will stop me from doing that.

Neo had no response to that. All he did was quickly smirk and then disappear.

He felt his body relax, no longer bogged down by Neo's presence.

His eyes went to the door, just a few feet away from his bed. He walked towards it and grabbed the knob, hearing the mechanism creak from not being used in so long. It almost felt natural to him, to be doing the same motion he had done countless times in his past.

He pushed the door open and walked out of his room.

---

Shali stepped into the kitchen, a sizzling sound ringing in her ears. She saw the human tentatively working on something against one of the walls. While she was only semi-conscious of it, she stepped lightly on the wooden floors, not wanting to alert the human to her presence. Though her traveling companion did his best to compensate for her lack of noise.

Following close behind was Pele whose claws clicked loudly against the wooden floor. Upon seeing the human, he overtook Shali and made his way over to him.

She still couldn't understand how he had managed to get her out of the bedroom. There was dire curiosity that needed to be sated, yes, though stepping into the human's presence once again reminded her why she had judged him in the first place.

She could sense his aura. That nearly uniform aura of calmness that was only flawed by a hint of instinct. She despised it. She despised that familiarity. She despised that disconnect. It felt like a divine prank that the forces of the world were pulling on her, no doubt getting a good laugh out of it. Perhaps she was too quick to accept Pele's offer. It would be better to just stay in bed and wait for Matthew to return. His aura, despite Neo, was much easier to be around.

Before she could even take one step back, an aroma made itself present. It was warm, inviting, even comforting. She could smell hints of sweet and savory flavors that blended together in a way she had ever experienced before. The scent was so foreign, yet it gave her nostalgia for something that wasn't there. It mesmerized her and almost stupefied her as it lingered in the air.

"Well, hello there. Did you change your mind about being hungry?"

Shali snapped back, realizing she had spaced out. The human was looking at her with a smile, diverting his attention from his work for a moment before going back to it. It was a small moment, but it reminded her why she had stepped out of the room at all.

"No," she replied curtly, setting the butt of her spear on the floor.

"I got her out here, Brian!" said Pele who was sitting in front of the human's legs, staring up. "I'm gonna show her how nice you are!"

"Oh really?" the human chuckled. "Well, Pele, after that little morning snafu, it seems I have some ground to make up." He turned to Shali again, "Am I right on that?"

She was surprised at his response. It was nothing like she was expecting from an aura such as his. Or was it? She hadn't paid too close attention to what he had said in the room, her mindset was completely closed off and she just wanted the human to leave but now? Now it was something different. Still, she was cautious. Her father always had moments of benevolence, however brief they were.

"You are, and I'd be careful about losing any more ground," she said.

"Aw, come on! He's super nice, Shali! Look, he's about to give me a treat!" said Pele. He pawed at the human's leg, earning a bout of laughter from him.

"Am I now, hmm?" the human said, bringing his hand up to scratch his chin. "Well, I was hoping to get these pancakes for myself, but it seems your stomach's void has set to claim yet another meal of mine."

The aroma that Shali had smelled before made itself known to her again. Now though, she could put a name to it. It was the pancakes that the human was making. She held her spear tight, determined not to space out like she did before. And yet, it was still a battle to remain grounded.

Another set of clicking noises from Pele's claws helped bring her out of her haze. She looked and saw him standing up on his hind paws, leaning his front paws on the human's thigh. His nose was high in the air, and it became apparent to Shali that she wasn't the only one who was enamored with the scent.

She looked over at what the human was doing. In one hand, he was holding a pan steady over a circle of blue flames that turned bright orange at their apex. In the other was a spatula which was on standby.

She stepped closer to the stove, half by curiosity and half by the scent. In the pan were two large disks. They were golden-brown on their faces but cream colored on their edges. These were creating the scent she was smelling. These were the pancakes.

The human used the spatula and deftly shoved its flat edge underneath one of the pancakes. He raised it up and turned away from the pan.

"Alright, Pele. This one has your name on it," said the human, gently nudging Pele away from his legs.

Pele, seemingly taking the motion as a challenge, backed up and began jumping straight up towards the spatula. His eagerness only served to hinder his progress as the human pulled his treat away.

"Give… Me… The… Treat!" Pele said in between his bounces.

"Not if you're gonna bite the spatula with it, you silly growlithe."

The human seemed to quell Pele for the time being, reducing his jumping to just sitting. He plucked the pancake off the spatula with two fingers and brought it down to the growlithe.

"Have at it, buddy."

The human had barely finished his first word before Pele had chomped down on the pancake. Pele turned away from him, his face full of euphoria and contentment, and walked past Shali who stared at the pancake in his mouth.

"See? I told you he was nice!" Pele said, though with the pancake muffling his voice it sounded more like: "Shee? I phold uu he wuph nife!"

Shali wasn't sure what to make of the situation. A mix of confused and conflicting thoughts went back and forth in her head. What had she honestly expected to happen? That the human was just going to deny Pele the pancake? Perhaps it was just a coordinated trick to deceive her, which would only be true if Pele's aura didn't radiate pure innocence. And yet the human's aura kept reminding her of that disconnect.

"Did you want one, Shali?"

She turned toward the human. He had taken off the other pancake with the spatula and was holding it towards her.

"I'll survive another round without one. It's yours if you want it," he said, bringing the spatula forward.

On instinct, she almost said 'no' but caught herself. She felt unsure about the situation. It was too easy, too simple. Surely the human was expecting something in return. There was no other explanation. And yet, the pitfalls of doubt that had been created by his actions and Pele's affirmation of said actions made her question herself.

Aura didn't lie. She knew it didn't. No matter your thoughts or actions, your aura still showed who you were. For her father and the human to share the same aura meant that they had to be the same, no matter what they did. Aura was final. It was decisive and definitive. Yet still…

Shali reached over and grabbed the pancake from the spatula. It was hot in her paw and the little amount of steam that came off it warmed her face. The aroma was the most intense it had been, pushing back any thoughts of doubt and making her take a large bite out of the pancake.

First warmth, then delay, and finally, a taste. A taste of sweetness, of fullness, of something she had never experienced before. She barely noticed herself chewing, allowing the flavor to engulf her mouth. It gave her all the same feelings through taste as the aroma did through smell. Then finally she swallowed and was left with a doughy, semi-sweet aftertaste.

She took another bite, chasing the high of her first. Then another. And another. She tried biting yet again and realized there was no more pancake, only her barren paws that were peppered with measly crumbs.

"I assume that you enjoyed it?"

She looked at the human, then immediately away. "It was fine… thank you."

The last two words surprised her with how little hesitancy was behind them. She expected to hold off at least a little longer or not say it at all. What was happening? Did she really think he was different from her father? She hadn't read the aura wrong, she was certain of that, and yet she still pushed forward trying to see if there was anything else.

"Well, you're welcome. Did you want another?" the human asked.

"No," she said quickly and walked out of the kitchen. Her strides were long and quick. She gripped onto her spear, holding it against her chest.

Only when she was in the living room and fully out of sight of the human did she let out a large exhale, one so big that it felt like she had been holding it for the entire time she was in the kitchen. She rubbed her paws against her face and took deep breaths.

There's no way I'm wrong about this, I can't be, she thought. There had to be something, anything, that could show her what she needed. It was just one moment. That's it. Even father could be good for one moment. Whatever happened in the kitchen doesn't mean anything. There needs to be more.

She barely felt confident in her thoughts and was annoyed at that fact. It troubled her, and despite her best efforts, it was difficult to put any level of confidence into what she wanted to believe. But there has to be something, something that will prove it. There has to be.

Her eyes were drawn to the television. She recognized what was on the screen instantly. It was soccer. A familiar group of humans, dressed in silver shirts, were running across the field. She remembered seeing them when she and Matthew were staying at the pokecenter. Alongside them were another group that wore green shirts, though this one was unfamiliar.

Shali watched the sport for a while, giving her space away from her thoughts. It was enjoyable for the time being, though she still didn't completely understand how the game worked. It seemed that Matthew knew, or at least had a history with soccer and she considered having him teach her so they could play. The thought gave her a smile, but it quickly disappeared.

Something clicked in her mind.

She looked over at the table in the center of the living room. Near the edge of the table that was closest to her was an open book. In the bottom left corner of the page it was opened to, there were two humans next to each other. Matthew and the human. They had played soccer together.

Which meant the human also knew how to play soccer.

She turned around and started back towards the kitchen. This will prove it, she thought. Anything for his pride, nothing for his daughter. You have the same aura as my father, and if that's true, you won't be able to resist vaunting about your skills and belittling my own. That is what will happen.

The human had just stepped away from the stove when she saw him. His expression was of mild surprise but still relatively calm. In his hand, he held a plate of three pancakes.

"Oh, hey Shali, I'm assuming you want another pan-"

"No," she said, though there was a small portion of her that did want another.

"What is it then?"

She contemplated for a moment, then allowed herself to speak. "Brian, teach me how to play soccer," she said bluntly, letting the butt of her spear touch the ground. This is it. This will show me what your true nature is.

"Oh? Why do you want to learn?" Brian asked, setting his plate of pancakes on a nearby counter.

She quickly thought of a reason. "I wish to play it with Matthew at some point."

Brian raised an eyebrow but let it drop and shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, well, alright then. Let me just eat breakfast and we can do it after that." He reached over to grab his plate.

She banged her spear on the floor. "No. Not later, now."

---

Charles Alexander sat in his recliner, leaning back, and trying to let the day pass by faster. He had no desire to leave his spot, if only to relieve his sustenance, and foresaw it to be where he remained for much of the day. It was unsurprising, this had been a typical routine of his for a long time now.

His wrinkled, varicose vein-riddled hand went over his grayish white hair and attempted to tame the rat's nest that rested atop his head.

I should just shave it off, he thought, bringing his hand back down to his side to grab the remote.

He was almost certain that the television was playing soccer, but it was difficult to tell. His sight and hearing were far past their prime. He tapped the volume button on the remote, raising the sound until he was able to hear the game's announcer. Now he could hear the game. The Celadon Dragonites versus the Saffron Pinsirs. The score was tied at one point each.

No doubt the neighbors would complain about the noise again. Charles could play out the entire interaction in his mind without a thought. A knock, a complaint, an apology, and repeat. And it would repeat. He was not willing to sacrifice his enjoyment of soccer for anything, much less his neighbor's potentially silent afternoon.

He figured his indifference was due to his progression of finally aging into his senior years, as much as he hated to admit it. Going on seventy, it was hard to deny the truth: He was an old man.

And with becoming an old man came the bad hair, the bad eyes, the bad ears and whatever else he had yet to uncover in his new phase of life.

But the one thing that also came was 'the disease'.

He remembered the diagnosis a few years back and how little had become of it. Just a ploy to get me hooked on the pills, he had thought. Then the thoughts began their assault. They played around with his mind, throwing him from one extreme end to the opposite. From the feeling of someone loving him, to the fear that someone was going to kill him.

And then it kept going. No longer only with thoughts, but with hallucinations. People that he hadn't seen for years suddenly came into his vision. People that he loved, hated and everything in between he saw roam through his living room, only to disappear after a few moments.

Eventually, he gave in and got a prescription. Even then, it didn't seem like much had changed. 'The disease' varied from time to time, going from moments of pure quietude to utter disarray. In the last few months, it had thankfully stayed quiet. Would it change soon? Tomorrow? Today? He didn't know.

His memory had also been suffering, although he wasn't sure if he could blame 'the disease' for it. The doctors never mentioned memory problems with 'the disease'. It just seemed to be coupled with his senility.

Whatever it was caused by it did nothing but make things harder. At the very least, when 'the disease' got hard, he had his memories to fall back on. Now, ever so slowly, small holes had started appearing in them. Small things at first; the color of a shirt, the song that was playing, the certain taste of a meal. They were things he could deal without. What he couldn't deal without were the names and faces missing. He couldn't recognize anything from his high school. He could recognize that he went there but couldn't point out who went there with him.

Still, some memories were unscathed. He could remember meeting Irene, and their lovely night together. Then nearly a year later, a knock at the door, with no one behind it except a baby boy in a stroller.

He remembered bringing the baby in, a typhoon of emotions cycling in his mind. Anger for Irene just leaving a baby at his door. Worry for the child whose mother had just left him. Doubt for himself and if he would be able to take on such a task.

The crying that filled his house for the first year was still the most vivid memory he had, and he treasured it dearly. The sense of pride he felt when the child took his first few steps was just barely second place in that regard. And when the first word came, he knew for certain that he would be able to raise the child. His child.

Matthew.

It was a precarious situation at first. Charles had to juggle his time in the office, time with Matthew, and time for actual sleep for nearly two years. He remembered barely getting eight hours of sleep per week, much less per day. Still, he had pushed on, and when Matthew was old enough to go into daycare, he had nearly slept for an entire day.

Matthew going to school terrified Charles. He had been scared that his parenting wasn't enough. That Matthew would be the social outcast for his time in school. And yet, the boy surprised him and did well.

The memories started coming to him at a quicker pace. He recalled Matthew's attachment to soccer the moment he saw it on the television, his face beaming at the screen. Matthew had worked hard and made it onto the elementary school team where he met Brian, his then best friend. The two had been nearly inseparable. On any given afternoon, the pair were either at each other's houses or eagerly planning their next get-together. Then there was band class. Charles was not about to let any horn that would surely wake him up in the middle of the night into his house. However, after Matthew had begun playing his electric bass into the early hours of the morning, Charles had wondered if it had been a good idea to bring in any instrument at all. Regardless, he was still happy for his son. He and Brian formed a duo and had begun doing music together. Charles did not have much interest in the genre that they were playing, but he wanted to support as much as he could, much to Matthew's continual embarrassment of having a fifty-something year old man rocking out to whatever song they were playing. It had all seemed perfect. And then…

Gone.

He was gone.

He didn't know how to process it. Everything had turned off all at once. The alarm cut short at 7am, gone. The mess the kitchen was in after his lunch was put together, gone. The opening of the door in the afternoon, gone. The steady plucking of bass strings, gone. The sound of the computer remaining on until midnight, gone.

All of it, gone.

The house had felt like it had doubled in size. The hallways had seemed endless. The rooms, nearly barren. Everything had felt slightly off-kilter. It had gotten better with time, but it was no longer perfect. The house was made for two people, not just one.

Charles rubbed his forehead, feeling a small headache coming on. They had become more prevalent after Matthew went missing. Nothing that a small dose of ibuprofen couldn't fix, but plentiful enough that he felt he always needed to buy more.

He closed his eyes and brought both hands up to massage his temples. His movements were slow and deliberate as he had performed this ritual before and would likely perform it again. The effect was immediate, and the headache dispersed. Charles opened his eyes…

…and saw his son.

He drew a shaky breath, already feeling his heartbeat quicken. Matthew was sitting on the loveseat across from him. His expression was calm, an antithesis to Charles's panic. He was there. It was real. But he couldn't have been there. Not when his face hadn't aged a day. Except he was there. Charles could see it. There couldn't have been another explanation.

Charles's fingers trembled uncontrollably. He felt them brush by some plastic and heard a small clacking noise, like small hard candies being dropped into a plastic bowl. His eyes darted over to his fingers. A small, orange prescription bottle with a white label rolled lazily on the couch.

Instantly, his arm shot out and grabbed the bottle. His grip was so strong he felt the plastic would shatter. He twisted the top of the bottle off and took out two of the pills inside the bottle. Nearly fast enough to break a tooth, he brought his hand up against his mouth and swallowed the pills, barely noticing the medicinal taste.

His breathing steadied and his heartbeat began slowing, but he didn't dare look at the loveseat. It was another hallucination, he knew that now. The pills would only take effect after some time. Time he didn't want to spend looking at the phantom of his missing son.

"Hey, Dad," a voice spoke out from the room. Matthew's voice.

Oh, Arceus, thought Charles. It was one thing to have a visual or auditory hallucination, but together? It would be something he would have thoughts of for months on end.

"Dad?"

Charles shook his head. It wasn't real. The pills were working their magic, and he wouldn't have to deal with this specter anymore. Yet still, he felt a dangerous curiosity.

He looked back at the loveseat, unsure if the hallucination was still there. It was. Matthew sat with his hands resting on his lap. Charles studied his face. In his panic, he had been right. The face had not aged a single day. Yet, he had somehow missed the hair that was no longer dirty blond, but a stark white, and slightly spiky. It was unlike any other hallucination of Matthew he had experienced before.

All those thoughts about me being old. Must've projected some onto the hallucinations, gave my son some crazy old person hair. Despite the situation, he let himself snicker at the thought.

Matthew smiled at his laugh. "What's so funny?"

He hesitated, unsure if he wanted to continue. His hallucinations had never gotten particularly bad before, but they were always on their own agenda. It didn't matter what business he was doing; the hallucinations would push themselves in and do whatever they wanted to. He went to speak, hesitated again, then said, "Your hair. It's gotten messier. Hasn't it, Matthew?"

Matthew raised his hand up and brushed against a few stray bits of hair. "I guess it has."

Charles was surprised at this. Only once in a blue moon did he have a hallucination that he could interact with. All were relatively neutral, but this one of Matthew felt devoid of any malice.

Matthew spoke up, "I won't stay for long, I just… I wanted to ask a question and I feel like you're the only one who can answer it."

Charles leaned forward on the couch, adjusting himself. "Still need help from your old man, huh?" A smile crept onto his lips as he said those words. It was only a hallucination, and it would go as soon as the drugs kicked in but if he was able to take a good moment out of the situation, he would.

His son nodded, "Still do."

"Well, what is it then?"

Matthew fiddled around with his hands and exhaled deeply. "I have this problem. I need to choose between these two things. One is selfless and the other is… really selfish." His voice trailed off after saying the last two words. He shook his head. "If I choose wrong, people could get hurt."

Charles rested his hands on his lap. "The details are light here, Matthew. What are these things? And who are these people?"

Matthew rubbed a hand against his forehead. "The people are… Well, they're my friends. And I don't want to get them involved with anything that might hurt them."

"Your friends? You mean Brian?"

"Yes, Brian and Shali."

Charles raised an eyebrow. "Who's Shali?" It was possible that his son had mentioned someone of that name in passing a long time ago, though he wouldn't be surprised if a memory of such an event was lost in his already spotty mind.

"Shali is a good friend. One you'd like, I hope. We haven't known each other long but I think she and I are sticking together."

The old man laughed. "She, eh? Is my son finally getting himself a girlfriend?"

Immediately, a blush took to Matthew's cheeks. "W-What? Dad, you're being ridiculous. She's a good friend, that's it. Full stop."

Charles shook his head, his laughter still taking him. "Alright, alright. Hmm, I never did give you the rundown of asking a girl out, did I? Maybe I can do that n-"

"Dad," Matthew said. The blush was still present but accompanied by a soft smile. "Can we get back on topic?"

Charles's laughter diminished and he regained a straight face. "Sorry. Yes, let's get back to it. So, Brian and Shali are the ones who are going to be affected by this?"

"Yes. I will too, but this isn't about me."

"Then tell me what it's about."

Matthew hung his head. "This… thing I have to do. It's for a good reason. And it's something that I'm going to do no matter what but…"

Charles leaned forward again. "But what?"

"But I want to be with my friends too. It's… been a while since I've met up with them and I… I just want to be with them." Matthew brushed a bit of hair in front of his face. "It's selfish, I know."

"It's not selfish to want your friends to be there, Matthew."

"It is. If I'm with them, they're in danger."

"Danger? Matthew, what kind of situation are you in?"

Matthew opened his mouth, about to say something, then closed it. He propped his elbow on his knee and rested his chin on his hand. "I'm… I'm in a bad situation. It's one that I need to dig myself out of. And one that if my friends get involved, they might… get trapped in like me."

Charles sighed and gave his son a warm look. "I understand, Matthew. But if they know of the danger and they want to help, are you going to stop them?"

"No but… If they get hurt or… or worse…"

"If they know they'll get hurt and still want to help. You should let them help."

Matthew exhaled, "…Okay. I get it."

"Have you told Brian and Shali everything about your situation?"

Matthew looked up at him, his eyes red but not teary. "They know everything about it, and they do want to help but… I don't know. I feel like-" He paused and realization flushed his face. "No. No, that's not true, actually."

"What is it?"

"Shali doesn't know. At least, not everything. There's something that she doesn't know yet. Something important." Matthew put his head in his hands. "Fuck, I need to tell her," he said wearily.

Charles nodded, "You do. I'm sure she really wants to help you, Matthew, but if there's as much danger as you're implying, she needs to know whatever this 'something' is. Tell her, and she can decide what she wants to do."

"But if she knows…" Matthew trailed off, his head shaking slowly side to side.

"If she knows, then she can make her own decision. That's what you need to give her."

Matthew looked up at him, eyes redder than before. His son nodded, giving a smile that felt only half-forced.

"It doesn't matter what it is, Matthew. Good or bad, she needs to know, that's all there is to it."

Again, Matthew nodded, wiping his arm across both of his eyes. "Thanks, Dad."

A feeling that he hadn't felt in the longest time arose within him. It gave him a swell of paternal pride and a feeling of love that had almost been forgotten. After so many years, he hadn't imagined that he would be able to bond with his son again, to be able to give him a genuine father-to-son lesson. There was something almost magical about it, like walking out on a sunny morning after several days of rain.

"I… I have to go now, Dad. I'm sorry."

And like that, the moment passed. The feeling of pride left him and the house, which had briefly felt like it wasn't so big anymore, went back to its original size. In front of him was no longer Matthew, it was just the hallucination. And with the drugs now taking their effect, the hallucination had to go.

The hallucination took a breath and stood up from the loveseat. With a brief pause, it moved towards the hallway entrance, its eyes not meeting Charles's.

Charles held his breath as a bittersweet feeling filled him. As much as he wanted the hallucination to stay, he knew it wouldn't. Yet, that didn't stop him from speaking again.

"You sure you can't stay a little longer… Matthew?"

The hallucination stopped just as it was about to be obscured by the living room wall that led into the hallway. It looked back at Charles, its eyes less red than before. It smiled at him, reflecting his own bittersweet feelings.

"I'm sorry, Dad, but I really do have to go. Thanks for talking with me." The hallucination broke eye contact and kept moving. Its pace was slow, almost hesitant, as it slid behind the living room wall and out of sight. For a second, there was silence, and then the hallucination gave its parting message.

"Goodbye, Dad."

"Goodbye, Matthew." It had come out so naturally despite how long it had been. It was a button that hadn't been pushed in years yet retained all its functions.

The real silence set in. Despite the television blaring at such a loud volume, Charles couldn't hear it. Even tinnitus didn't seem to make itself known. He felt like he had heard a song had just finished without ending on a proper note, only to slowly diminish into nothingness, leaving him feeling empty.

His heart ached with longing for that moment where his life had come back into perspective and he wasn't completely alone in his mind. Yet he knew that it wouldn't last long enough for him to feel anything more than that brief moment of contentment, which was all he would ever truly get from it.

Because that's all it was, right? Just a brief feeling and nothing more, caused by a rather vivid hallucination. He wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe it was just a hallucination.

He put his head in his hands and breathed in deep. His hallucinations had always felt real, but there was a certain authenticity that made this most recent one so much different. It was like the difference between canned soda and genuine fountain soda from the bar. One felt real, the other felt right.

Charles looked over at the loveseat, half expecting the hallucination to still be there. Of course, it wasn't. There was no way it could be, not with the drugs flushing his system.

He looked at the television. The game had moved along a significant bit compared to what he saw last. It was 2-1 Dragonites now with twenty minutes remaining.

I miss you, Matthew, he thought.

---

Brian plunged the last stick into the snow and cautiously backed away as he made sure it was stable. After a few seconds with no movement, he nodded at the stick and made sure its sibling beside it hadn't fallen over. It had not. Satisfied, he turned back toward the reason he was out here in the first place.

Shali was standing on the opposite side of his backyard, giving him an indifferent stare. She held her spear by her side but refused to let the bottom touch the snow. While the sun was shining through the clouds, snow was dusting down onto them. It didn't seem to faze her in the slightest.

He knew that he and Shali didn't exactly get off on the right foot when he had pushed his way into Matthew's room in the pokecenter. He could understand that. But the coldness that she continuously exuded towards him didn't seem to stem from that incident. There was also the possible reasoning that he was a human and, by default, was not trustworthy to her. He could also understand that. To him, though, both propositions seemed equally unlikely. It wasn't something that he could say with certainty, but it appeared that Shali had another reason for disliking him.

It was surprising enough when she came out of the bedroom, he had Pele to thank for that. She had eaten the food he gave her and had, very visibly, enjoyed it. Hell, she had even thanked him, albeit with some hesitancy. From that, he had begun realizing what was happening: She was testing the waters. The waters of what? He still wasn't sure. His hypothesis only strengthened when she had asked him to teach her soccer.

Her insistence was not something he had expected. And not something he could ignore. If it potentially meant that there would be no bad blood between them, then it was something he was more than willing to engage in. With minimal regret, he had left his plate of pancakes inside to teach the lucario. Though even that regret quickly evaporated when he imagined the stomach cramp he would have gotten if he exercised that soon after breakfast.

With the addition of four sticks serving as the boundaries of the goal, two on either side, his back yard had been turned into a makeshift soccer field. Granted, he would have preferred more space than the twenty feet of length his yard had, but it was something he could make do with.

He grabbed the soccer ball beside him, tucking it under one arm, and walked over to Shali. "Alright, goals are set up, I think we're just about ready to start."

"Lu lucario," she said. Brian didn't need to translate that to figure out she said "Ugh, about time."

He waved her off, "I get it, it took a while. Powdery snow isn't exactly the most structurally stable."

"Cario lu?"

"Yeah, we can get going." He pointed at her spear, "I can't be too sure, but I don't think there are any soccer variants that allow spears. You'll have to set it aside for now."

Shali clenched her spear and looked down to the ground. Brian couldn't make it out completely from where he stood, but it almost sounded like she was growling. Not an aggressive or hostile growl, but a milder one, tempered with annoyance.

She sighed and her grip on her spear loosened. She turned quickly and walked to the side of the house. Carefully, she leaned her spear against the house and watched it for several seconds, making sure it wouldn't fall into the snow. As she turned away, she paused for a moment and took another look at her spear, as though she were making sure it hadn't disappeared.

It must mean a lot to her, he thought. He hadn't seen her without it ever since she first arrived at the house.

"Lucar… cario?" she said, coming back to her position in front of Brian.

"Now? Well now I'll teach you the basics." He dropped the ball to the ground and placed his right foot on it to stop it from rolling. The snow wasn't the best surface to play on, but it was even enough that there wouldn't be any major issues.

"We're just gonna kick the ball back and forth to get a feel for it." He put his foot beside the ball, letting it rest against the inside of his foot. "Set it up like I'm doing, it'll be more accurate than just kicking it straight on."

Shali was looking down at his footwork but there was something else going on behind her eyes. It wasn't something Brian could define, but in it he recognized the same look from the kitchen.

What are you thinking about, Shali? He shook his head. I suppose I'll figure it out soon enough. He brought his attention back to the soccer ball and lightly kicked it with the inside of his foot.

The ball slightly skipped across the snow before settling into a steady roll. As the ball neared its destination, Shali put her foot out. Already drained of its stamina from the snow, the ball stopped easily under her foot.

"Alright, good job. Now pass it back, just like I did."

She looked thoughtfully at the ball, then at him, then back to the ball. A small smile came to her face as she set her feet up like Brian, letting the ball lean against her foot. She reared her leg back and kicked the ball.

The ball came flying at him. Brian barely had time to raise his arms to block the projectile. Any millisecond wasted and the ball would have nearly taken his head off. The ball bounced off his arms and dropped to the ground, rolling lackadaisically in the snow until it came to a rest against his leg.

He put his arms down and looked over at Shali. She was still smiling as if nothing was wrong, but he knew better. There was something more to this.

Are you trying to make me mad at you? His arms stung, but most of the impact had been taken by his jacket's sleeves. It's possible, but I don't think that's it. You're trying to push me to do something. I don't know what that something is, but I also can't tell if you actually want me to do it. He exhaled, I'll just keep doing what I'm doing for now.

He nodded, still a little shaky, "Good power and precision, but the accuracy comes from hitting it with the inside of your foot, not your toes."

Suddenly, Shali's smile disappeared and was replaced with a frown. For some reason, she didn't like that response. Still, he found trouble putting it to something.

Maybe I can ask Matthew about it. He's known her longer than I have. He set his feet up with the ball again. "Ready for the next one?"

"Lucar," she said.

Brian kicked the ball with a bit more force. Shali had no issue stopping it the same way as before. She set herself up and started the motions to kick. He prepared himself, ready to block another cannonball coming for his head.

But there was no cannonball. The ball came skating across the snow at a swift pace and stopped under Brian's foot.

"Very good," he said, pleasantly surprised. Alright, let's see how things go from here.

They kept passing the ball between each other, slowly building up their pace over time until it was a continuous series of kicks with no breaks for setup in between. Brian's kicks always made their mark and Shali's were not much worse. While he had to occasionally take a few steps to the right or left to kick the ball back, he was impressed with how quickly she adapted to it. In addition, he was also grateful that no other projectiles had come close to messing up his face.

In the rhythm they were creating, he felt his mind wander. It went to Matthew, and he felt mixed emotions fill him. Shali had mentioned that the reason she wanted to learn soccer was to play it with Matthew. While Brian had given her statement some doubt, he could tell there was a portion of truth with it. And deep down, he knew he wanted to play soccer with Matthew too.

But he wanted to play soccer with the Matthew that was in high school. The one that he spent every opportunity with. The one that hadn't been missing for thirteen years. He wanted that Matthew. But this Matthew? This Matthew that had psychic powers? This Matthew that was being hunted by Team Saber? He didn't know.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts he didn't notice that the ball had stopped coming until he kicked and only hit air. Nonplussed, he gave himself a moment to regain his bearings.

Shali's foot was on the ball. Her eyes were locked on him, waiting for his attention.

"Lu lucar lu lucario rio?" she said.

"You want to play the actual game?"

She nodded.

I suppose we've been going for a little long. He walked to the center of the yard and motioned for her to do the same. "Alright, so it's going to be a little different since there's only two of us. We'll be acting as the forwards, midfielders, defenders, everything."

Shali picked up the ball and met Brian in the middle, "Lucar cario?"

"The rules? Well, let's just keep things simple. Get the ball in the other's goal and you get a point, don't use your hands or paws, and don't foul anyone. If you do break the rules, the other person gets a free shot at your goal from across the yard. Sounds good?"

"Lu," she said, holding out the ball to Brian.

He held his hand out, denying her gesture. "Normally we'd do a coin flip to decide who kicks off, but since it's your first time I'll let you start so you can get more experience out of it. Head to your goal and I'll start us off."

She stopped and looked down at the ground for a moment, looking like she was in thought. Before Brian even started thinking about what she might be thinking about, she was back up and walking to her goal.

This may help me get a better understanding of what she wants. After that, maybe we'll be able to put everything behind us and start fresh. He walked back to his own goal and bent his knees, getting into a ready position.

"Good to go?" he asked.

Shali set the ball down in front of her and got into position. "Lucar."

He raised his right hand, "Game…" Then dropped it.

"Start!"

Shali kicked the ball the moment he finished the word. It flew at him like a rocket, but he was prepared. Jumping up, he let the ball bounce off his chest and drop to the ground. Years of not practicing soccer caused the impact to knock a bit of breath out of him, though that was forgotten quickly as he started moving forward, pushing the soccer ball with him.

He wasn't the only one running, however. Shali began sprinting at him, searing determination in her eyes. The gap between them narrowed. Brian feigned to the right and caught her off guard. It was a clean path to her goal, or so he thought. He only took a few steps more when he realized the ball wasn't with him anymore.

Looking back, he saw Shali kicking the ball steadily toward his goal. Defeated, he couldn't help but chuckle at himself as she shot the ball through the two sticks. It banged against the wooden fence and rolled back to Shali who stopped it with her foot.

He started walking over. I guess I should have expected a lucario to have good speed, he thought.

Shali turned around with a large grin on her face. She picked up the ball and met Brian in the center.

"That was great. Good kickoff, good offense, and very good footwork too," he said, taking the ball from Shali. "I'll admit, I'm a bit embarrassed with how you snuck the ball out from me."

Just like before, her smile curved down to a frown. Though this time it went a step further and she took on a look of annoyance.

What did I do wrong this time? The same thing happened after she nearly hit me with the ball, and I brushed past it, but how does that relate to this? I'm certain you want some sort of reaction out of me, could it be a negative one? If so, then why?

"Lu lucar?"

Shali's voice snapped him out of his entangled thoughts. He composed himself, "Well since you scored, I'll be kicking off next time. Hopefully I'll keep the ball with me."

She brushed past him and walked to her goal. He sighed, feeling lost. The game was allowing him to get a better idea of how she felt about him, but it would all be for nought if he couldn't figure anything out from it. It was like he was trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle where all the pieces were white. He had connected some pieces by a combination of luck and intuition but was nowhere close to getting the full picture.

Brian walked to his side of the yard and stood in front of his goal. He dropped the ball at his feet, trying to figure out how to kick off. Aiming at the chest like Shali did was not an appealing idea to him; matching aggression with aggression would likely produce unfavorable results.

He got into position behind the ball. "You ready to go again?"

She nodded and got into a similar position, still having an annoyed expression about her.

I really don't know where to go from here. The most I can hope for is that an opportunity to get to the bottom of things will show itself. He prepared himself.

"Game… start!"

He kicked the ball out. Its trajectory was low, and it skidded across the snow before bumping into Shali's legs. She was quick to react, and even quicker with kicking the ball up the yard and towards him. Now though, he was ready for her speed.

He ran forward, prepared for their confrontation. As they got near, his eyes went to their feet, looking over the situation. Like time had slowed down, he moved his foot over to where the ball was and nudged it to the side, taking it out of Shali's control.

Once again, it was a clean, straight path to the goal. This time he was sure that he still had the ball. However, Shali was keen on changing that. She raced in front of him, catching him off guard, and stopped just in front of her goal. Her stance was wide and covered most of where Brian needed to shoot. The only exception was the opening between her legs.

A feeling took him, one that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was the perfect combination of pride, excitement, and a touch of devilishness. A smile came to him just as he was about to act on the feeling.

He feigned to the left, acting as though he was going to shoot with his right foot, causing Shali to lean towards his theoretical kick. Then, turning his body left, he used his left foot and lightly pushed the ball forward. It went cleanly through her legs and hit the wooden fence behind her.

He brought himself to a stop, stumbling from how abrupt it was, and stood beside one of the goal sticks. His smile had not faded in the slightest. It had been over a decade since he had performed a stunt like that and the pure ecstasy he felt after pulling it off was nigh unmatched. He felt like he was a child again and ever ready to indulge in the heightened sense of self he just attained.

Though the flame of pride was doused as his thoughts sobered and went to Shali. He mentally slapped himself. That wasn't right of him, doing that to her. She wanted to learn, and one doesn't learn by being a vessel for the teacher to show off.

Still though, she smiled. The same smile he had seen three times now. It seemed genuine but why? Getting scored on hardly called for such a thing, even less so when it had been done in the way Brian did it. If they were friends, perhaps it would make some sense, though the two of them were far from that.

Perhaps he was approaching this all wrong. Both times she had lost her smile were from the comments he had. He hadn't thought either of the ones he made were offensive, though he supposed he couldn't discount it. Still, it was time to try something different.

"Shali, what I just did was called a 'nutmeg' and it's not the easiest move to do in soccer," he said. She was still smiling. He continued, "I'm going to teach you how to do it."

For a third time, her smile vanished. Though this time, her expression turned to confusion. "Lucar? Lu?" she said.

"Why? Well, why not? I used it on you, so why shouldn't you be able to do the same?"

This time there was no response, just more confusion. He had slightly hoped that her smile had remained but at the very least, her reaction wasn't as negative as before. He accepted that small win.

He picked up the ball and handed it to her, "Come on. From the middle of the yard, try to score on me using a nutmeg."

She took the ball from him, slow and unsure, and went to the center of the yard. Her face still emanated bemusement.

She wasn't expecting this, he thought, getting in front of the goal. She had expected my other two responses before. They may not have been what she wanted, but she did expect them. Not this.

Shali laid the ball down and got into position. Brian did the same. Her confusion had largely subsided but was still prominent in her eyes, which were staring into him.

If this leads to something, hopefully it'll let me get a clearer picture. He clapped his hands together, "Alright, send it down!"

She started towards the goal, kicking the ball with her. Brian locked his eyes on the ball and her feet, keeping tabs on its direction and speed. As she neared him, he bent his knees more, bringing him closer to the ground. Three feet away from the goal, she kicked hard at the opening between Brian's legs. The ball flew. It soared directly to its target. His reflexes limbered, Brian brought his hand down between his legs and stopped the ball. It bounced against his hand and rolled to a stop.

Brian stood back up, shaking his hand at the fresh stinging feeling, and exhaled. "Good attempt. Your accuracy is spot on, but my attention is still on the ball going between my legs. You gotta fake me out. Head back and try again."

Shali said nothing as she picked up the ball and reset herself at the center of the yard. Looking at her, Brian saw that the confusion had completely left her. In its place was a neutral expression.

Okay. Not a bad start. She seems to be okay with doing this. Now I have to look out for any changes and what her reactions will be. He leaned down into position, "Go when you're ready!"

Again, she kicked the ball down the yard. And again, Brian caught the ball between his legs with his hand.

"You hesitated when going for the fake kick, but you had a good lead up. Reset and try again."

And again.

"It was a great fake out, but you lost track of the ball. Try again."

They developed a pattern quickly. She would run and kick the ball, he would block and comment on it, and they would reset. It went on for enough time that the snow stopped falling and a few rays of sunshine peaked through the thick clouds above. Shali was steadily improving at linking together the fake out and the nutmeg. On her tenth attempt, she had successfully faked him out and still had the ball in control, though kicked it far too weak so Brian had no issue stopping it. On her fourteenth attempt, the fake out was less than ideal but she shot the ball with such force that his hand barely blocked the ball in time.

Brian kept his thoughts honed, ready to pick up on any developments between him and Shali. However, with the pattern they had created, there was little room for any new things. Shali had kept her neutrality throughout, never wavering. Nothing positive and nothing negative. He couldn't exactly call it progress, though he would still take it.

If he was being honest with himself, there was a small nugget of pride forming within him. It had started small, practically unnoticeable, yet as Shali's skills improved it had grown substantially. There was something about watching her get better with each attempt that caused the nugget of pride to swell in elation and force a smile to come to his face. The feeling was nice, comforting even.

It was her twenty-second attempt now. She started it like all the others before and began kicking the ball down the yard. The ball was kept close and in control, even more so as she neared Brian and the goal. She stepped to the right, setting up her fake out, and he moved with her to give her the opportunity to score.

Except she didn't go for the kick. Instead, she suddenly changed tactics and set up another shot on her left side. His instincts primed, he shifted his body towards it. He only realized it had been a second fake out when the ball passed underneath his legs.

The ball smacked against the fence, rolled back out between Brian's legs, and stopped against Shali's. Brian collected himself and stood up straight, putting his hands on his hips.

It had been a losing battle to contain his pride at the situation. He opened his mouth and allowed it to finally take over. "That was great! That second fake out was perfect and genuinely caught me off guard. I couldn't see how you kicked the ball through my legs, but it seemed it had good power behind it. You did a great job!"

Shali was looking at the ground, her neutral expression still present. Her right paw clenched and released endlessly as though she were holding something and putting it through periodic chokeholds. In the air, Brian could see her breath coming out in short bursts. Then, she stopped and was completely still.

He stepped forward, "Shali? Are you–"

She reared her leg back, not looking, and launched the ball at her feet. Its power was immense, and it plowed into the left goalpost stick, causing it to snap in two. It slammed against the fence, hard enough for the wood to splinter, and bounced off into the yard.

"Shali! What are you doing?" he yelled.

She flinched. Her paws clenched and her head dropped down. Her body tensed and she became completely unmoving. There was a period of silence between them. The only thing that could be heard was the soccer ball coming to an eventual stop in the snow.

Brian cursed at himself. He had realized too late what kind of tone was coming out of his mouth. With all that pride for her, had he just let himself throw it all away?

Her reaction had shocked him. It was not a smile or a frown or a look of confusion, it had been an actual outburst. What was happening? What was he doing? What was she thinking? The questions swarmed in his head, flying past at a breakneck pace, not allowing him to answer any of them. He closed his eyes and exhaled.

No, he thought, Screw figuring it out. That's not what I need to do right now.

"Hey, Shali?" he said, making sure his tone was even and calm.

She remained still, not moving in the slightest at his words.

He sighed, "Shali, I'm sorry for yelling at you. It was in the heat of the moment, and I should have thought things through."

Still nothing. He bit his lip and continued.

"I… I know you don't like me, and that's okay." He winced, that part hurt him. He shrugged the feeling off. "Whether or not it was because of me barging into that pokecenter room, or disturbing you this morning, or whatever else it might be, I want you to know that I understand."

This time, a little bit of movement. Her head came up, if only by a few degrees.

"You don't have to tell me why, and I'm not asking for a chance or anything." He breathed, making sure his voice was still steady, "I want you to do what's right for you, that's all."

Another few degrees. Her paws relaxed and released their clench.

"If what's right is playing more soccer, that's okay. If it's stopping soccer and going back inside, that's okay. If it's going back to the bedroom and back to what you've been doing, that's also okay."

He saw the tension in her body release.

"Do what's right for you, and I'll abide by it. You have my word." He exhaled, feeling a small tremor in his breath.

The air was still between them. There was no breeze, no snowflakes, just the ambient cold. The silence was so thick it was choking. A pin could have fallen in the snow and Brian and Shali would have both heard it.

Shali was the first to break the stillness. He saw her aura sensors lift, if only for a moment, before going down to their resting position. She turned to the side and began walking away from Brian. His eyes followed her as she brought herself over to where the ball had been kicked away. His breath ceased for a moment.

She picked up the ball and walked back to him. Her head was still down but Brian felt his breathing continue. She held the ball out to him and though he wasn't certain of what he saw, he sensed that her paws were shaking, if only by the slightest bit.

The ball seemed to have come out of the ordeal relatively unscathed. A few of the white hexagons now had scuff marks that ran through them but otherwise it was completely fine. He took the ball from her.

She was looking back up at him now. "Lu lucario?"

He suppressed a sigh of relief and nodded. "Yes, of course we can keep playing."

Then, she surprised him. Her expression turned to worry. "Lucario lucar?"

"What, the ball? Oh, it's fine. It's just a few marks, nothing that'll affect it much." He held the ball in one hand and tapped it with the other, proving its rigidity. A thought appeared in his head, and he mulled it over, gaining a grin. "Hey, Shali?"

She looked at him.

"I wouldn't worry about hitting the soccer ball around too much. It tends to get a real kick out of it."

Granted, he didn't expect much of a reaction. Though he still felt heat rise in his cheeks from embarrassment when all he received was a deadpan look from her. He put one hand behind his head and chuckled.

"Sorry, I guess it was funnier in my head," Brian said, bringing his hand back down to hold the ball. "Let's keep playing the game. No need to learn any fancy tricks. Does that sound good to you?"

Shali nodded, "Lu, lucar."

And though for a moment he thought his eyes were tricking him, Brian could see a small smile on Shali.

---

In a flash of light, Matthew found himself back in the bedroom. Brian's spare bedroom this time.

His eyes were stinging and wiping them proved that there were a few stray tears hanging on. Though, considering what had just happened, he had expected more than just that.

He had checked up on his father before, but a conversation was a step above anything before it. It was odd, uneasy, almost nauseating to be in the same room with his father again and have a talk like nothing had happened. The fact that he was able to hold himself together for so long surprised him. And then when he had figured out what he had to do…

"Well, I'll give you this," Neo said, appearing beside him. "You said he would put you on the right track, and he did."

Matthew glowered at Neo. His silence when he was talking with his father was a blessing. But it appeared all good things came to an end.

"I wonder if you'll tell her. I mean, it'd be quite on brand for you to run away from it, huh?" Neo continued.

Shut up, Neo. He looked around the room, quickly realizing that Shali wasn't there. Puzzled, he stepped through the open door and into the hallway. There was no sign of her there either.

"Shali?" he called out. There was no response. He could hear the soccer game on the television, the same one that his father had been tuned into.

He walked out to the living room and found that Brian was gone too. No trace of him could be seen anywhere. The only evidence he had been there in the first place was a mug that held little more than a dribble of coffee left sitting on the edge of the table.

More curious now, he moved to the kitchen where he found someone. Pele was standing on top of the counter, his head buried against a plate. Before Matthew could say anything, Pele raised his head up, revealing a pancake halfway in his mouth. On the plate, there was a solitary pancake. The growlithe's eyes widened as they made eye contact.

Well, someone's guilty, Matthew thought. He walked over and scratched Pele's ear, letting him lean into his hand. "Don't worry, I won't tell."

Pele put the rest of the pancake into his mouth and looked up happily at Matthew. "Thank you!" he said through his muffled voice. He swallowed his treat and looked down at the pancake on the plate. After backing away from the plate, he nudged it forward with his nose toward Matthew.

Oh, why not. "Thanks," he said. He picked up the pancake, looked it over to make sure there was no growlithe slobber on it, and took a bite. Although it was cold and a little tough, the taste was still good. He swallowed and turned back to Pele. "Do you know where Shali and Brian are?"

Pele nodded and hopped off the counter. "Yep! They're playing soccer outside!"

"Soccer?"

Matthew walked to the back door and peered out the thin rectangular window next to it. Sure enough, just as Pele had said, Shali and Brian were kicking a soccer ball around. It appeared that they were having a small game. Both were smiling as the ball bounced between them.

The sight of them playing together made him feel warm. It also made him yearn to be able to go out and play with them, though he knew it wasn't possible. Regardless, being able to see it and experience it vicariously was a welcoming substitute.

The warmth left him as he remembered what his father told him. Shali didn't know about that one thing. Once she did, she could make her decision. The idea terrified him.

"Still gonna tell her?" Neo said.

I will. I have to.

---

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Peace!

-Minusbomb