"I once had a girl
Or should I say
She once had me"
—"Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)" from Rubber Soul by The Beatles
Lively Town certainly lived up to its name. Max couldn't look in any direction without seeing a bustling crowd of kids, Expedition Teams, salesmon, and a billion other professions he couldn't clock at a glance. He kept his head down for most of it, trying his best to avoid anyone's notice. It made him stick out a bit being the only one not living up to the place's namesake, but everyone seemed to respect that he didn't want to chat.
He couldn't see them, per se, but his awareness let him feel the tickles of intermittent stares that came his way. The glances all stayed short and empathetic frowns accompanied most of them, but he made sure to keep his eyes down.
The whole place felt so familiar. Scents of leather from the bag-shop as well as the generous sweets and snacks on offer along the road all felt more familiar than the house he'd lived in for the past month. Yet, none of that translated to even a slight inkling of how to get where he wanted to go. He remembered the place in the abstract, but he was hopelessly lost by the time he made it through the town entrance.
A wide band of metal around a black shin smacked him to the ground. "Sweet Palkia, I'm so sorry!" the aggron exclaimed, lunging down to help him up.
Even if they wanted to help, all Max could see was a massive predator bearing down on him at full speed. He scurried back along the ground until he smacked into someone else and looked up to see a rhydon staring down at him. They similarly bent down to help, and Max bolted off as fast as his hindlegs could carry him.
His instincts had taken the lead, but he hadn't completely lost control. They brought him off into some alleyway, and he darted around to hide behind a stack of boxes. He flomped down behind and started gasping for breath. The run didn't tire him out that much, but he was fighting for his life against terror. Had anyone recognized him? He didn't know what he'd do if they did.
He popped his bag open and jammed his paw into it to squeeze his scarf. People seeing him wear that anywhere always turned at least a few heads, and here would be so much worse. At worst, he usually just looked like some kid with a hero complex. Here, though, Expedition Teams crawled around every inch of it.
They'd tried their best to avoid the attention, but that's not exactly possible after saving the world. No doubt he never took it off before, either, so he just had to hope that he could pass as any other pikachu without it.
Its absence cinched around his neck. He gripped his scarf tighter as he felt his hindpaws go numb from the suffocating absence. "P-p-pi chu pi kaaa," he whimpered. If he just moved his hindpaws, he'd know that they were fine, that he was fine, but he was too terrified to check. His lungs burned for air even though he was sucking it in as fast as possible.
Max ripped the scarf out of his bag and wrapped it around himself. No one could see him back here, anyway. The relief came instantly. He could breathe, his hindpaws could move. His fur moved with the breeze. He was safe. He was alive.
Taking a deep breath, he groaned and threw his face into his paws. "Why didn't I bring anyone else?" he whimpered. He'd decided completely on his own that it was "right" for him to face this alone. Now, he was cowering in some back alley behind a stack of boxes because he accidentally ran into a stranger's leg. He wanted to give up and run home.
Then, he remembered his partner's message from last night. It had been hard to believe when he heard it, and he still couldn't convince himself it was true. He'd done everything he could to make sure no one cared, that no one would worry. If anyone else told him that, he'd dismiss it before they finished talking.
His partner, though, Max couldn't discard what he said. It was all he had. He reached into his bag to tug out a note in its hidden compartment. The instant he woke up, he'd written everything down as best he could remember. He knew he couldn't trust his memory, but he could trust himself to read, at least. He looked over the words for what must have been the twentieth time that day.
It wasn't just empty encouragement, his partner was never that simple. He was never exactly direct when he told Max what to do, but he was pretty clear. Max could, even now, easily understand him. Even without stating it once, it was obvious what his partner wanted. He wanted Max to reconnect.
Max folded up the note and placed it back in his bag, careful to make sure he remembered to fully close the secret compartment. When he got home, he'd make a second copy just in case he lost his bag some day. His breath had mostly steadied, so he grabbed his scarf and focused on bringing it the rest of the way down. Whether or not he could do this, he didn't know.
But he needed to.
A door right across from him that he somehow managed not to notice clicked and swung open. A very tired looking timburr didn't even take one step out before tossing another box right where Max sat.
"PIKA!" Max barked and jumped out of the way. He barely got his tail out in time before the box crashed into the rest. In an instant, his calm left him, but he didn't have time to calm back down, either. He yanked his scarf off and stuffed it back in his bag just in the nick of time before the wide-eyed timburr jumped out the door.
Timburr frantically looked around for the source of the sound and visibly sighed in relief when she saw Max. "Oh sweet Palkia, are you okay?!" Timburr asked.
"P—" Max slammed his mouth shut before he could out himself. He tossed a thumbs up out with a weak smile and a vigorous nod. Probably his least convincing performance yet.
"Thank Mew," Timburr sighed. Evidently, his terrible performance was enough for her. "What the hell are you doing back here?" But Max wasn't out of the woods yet. He didn't have a chance at talking, and he definitely couldn't risk slipping. He tried to keep his smile on, but his drooping ears and tail betrayed his real emotions. He gave a shrug and focused on not backing away in fear.
Timburr gave him a confounded look and raised her brow. "You sure you're okay?" she asked. Max nodded even more vigorously than last time to be even less convincing. Either Timburr bought it again, or she respected his privacy enough not to pry. "Are you lost?"
Bingo.
Max resisted the urge to snap and instead nodded with a significantly more genuine smile. Lost, perfect! Anyone could get lost, and that left him without any more explanations to worry about.
"You must be new in town," Timburr chuckled. She was functionally right, if not technically, so he nodded. She had all her answers, now, so he was seconds away from freedom. "Where are you headed? Need help finding it?"
Being rude to strangers who needed help was a lost art. Max shook his head, but Timburr looked less than convinced.
"C'mon, kid, it's all right," Timburr said. Frustration finally chipped into Max's paper thin smile. "Come on inside and we'll help you find your parents, okay?"
"I'm not a kid!" Max shouted back. Someone probably younger than him treating him like a child pissed him off enough, but mentioning his parents cut him deep. He couldn't place why, but he'd already shouted at the person trying to help him, so it was a bit late for introspection.
Timburr threw her arms up with paws open and rolled her eyes. "Fine, whatever," she grumbled. "Sorry for trying to help." Regret started to eat away at his anger. She turned around before she could see his own glare soften as he reached out a paw.
"W-wait," Max said. "I'm—," the door slammed behind her, "—sorry." He let his paw drop and tugged at his bag. It all felt so familiar. Even if he could barely remember any of it, the impressions stayed with him no matter what. The fact she'd carelessly thrown a box several times his own weight at him lost all relevance in his mind. Was he really any different? If he went back to his team just to torture them again, maybe it'd be best to go back home already.
He started dragging his paws out of the alleyway when he remembered his partner's words. At this point, they had a permanent spot etched into his mind. He couldn't give up. Still, was he really any better than he used to be?
Only one way to know. Turning back around, he took a deep breath. If he could apologize for this, maybe it wouldn't be so hard to do it for Goon and everyone else. Maybe. His partner believed in him—somehow—so it was time he actually put the effort in. With Herculean effort, he forced his paws back over to the door and knocked.
Some shout barely made it through the thick door, basically only enough to let him know that they'd heard him knock. No going back. It swung open a second later with the same timburr staring down at him. "You again?" she grumbled.
A slurry of sparks bounced down his cheeks as Max did his best to swallow his nerves and pride at the same time. "I'm sorry," he said. "I was scared, but you were just trying to help, and—"
"Look, I'm kinda busy right now," Timburr said with a roll of her eyes. "Good luck with whatever. Bye."
Max opened his mouth to say something—anything—but got only a mouthful of slammed door. "P-pi chu," he whimpered. An ember of anger hissed out beneath an inferno of humiliation. Enough electricity bounced off his cheeks that they connected and popped in front of him. All the resolve he'd built up vanished in an instant, and he felt a pit in his stomach.
This wasn't going to go well, was it?
"She showed me her room
Isn't it good
Norwegian wood"
Max scampered into the Expedition Society on all fours. He told himself he'd switched stances for practice, but really it was to avoid recognition as much as possible. Once he'd actually found it, the place stuck out like a sore thumb. At least, it would, if every other building in the entire town wasn't another, equally sore thumb.
Not four steps in, he'd already caught the eye of the front desk. "Can I help you?" called a slurpuff. When Max looked over, he instantly felt memories gnawing at the edges of his mind, but he tried to repress them if only to avoid the headache. He had to think fast, though. If he nearly recognized the pokémon, then Slurpuff would absolutely recognize him. His voice, he needed a fake voice, right? "Um. Hello?"
"H-hi, sorry," Max stammered out in a much higher than usual register which, for some reason, felt extremely well practiced. "Yes." He politely smiled while trying not to sweat Slurpuff's raised brow and walked over to the desk. "You see, I'm looking for Team… Plasma."
"All right," Slurpuff said, still looking intently at Max. "That shouldn't be a problem, but… I'm sorry, but you look very familiar. Have we met before?" She started rifling through records without taking her eyes off Max.
"Wh-huh?" Max mumbled. "No, no! J-just one of those faces, haha, y'know?"
Slurpuff gave him another quizzical glance, but she stopped pressing the issue and pulled a file out from the drawer on his right. "Team Plasma, you said?" she asked. She opened up the file and Max's heart dropped out from under him. The team's file would absolutely have information on him. Sure enough, Slurpuff hadn't glanced at it for a second before stopping at a particular spot on the page.
This was it. Max was screwed.
Slurpuff squinted at the page, turned to look at Max, then back at the page, then finally rested her eyes on Max with utter confusion. "Max?" she asked. Max couldn't come up with a lie before his expression gave him away. "Max, why… oh, whatever." She shook her head and chuckled with a smile. "Nice to have you back!"
She flopped the file down on her desk and hopped over to yank him up into a hug. "I think I know why you're here," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. We wanted to tell you, but no one could find you."
"Th-thanks," Max muffled in his normal voice again, trying his best not to get a mouthful of cream. Slurpuff squeezed him even tighter, then dropped him down. He kept upright to try and reduce the difference in height, but she was still twice as tall. His weak smile didn't last a single glance up, and he went back to looking at the ground (trying to ignore the cream now coating his belly).
Slurpuff reached down to pat his head and asked, "Who'd you want to see?"
"Um," Max mumbled. Why did he just assume he could see the whole team? At least he had a name. "Goon."
Just then, the door behind him opened, and Slurpuff chuckled; Max's fur stood on end. "Well, you're in luck!" Slurpuff said. "Goon! Over here!" She waved at the person who'd just walked in. "You'll never guess who's here!" No, it couldn't be. What kind of odds were these?!
Once he spoke, though, there was no denying the familiar voice. "Oh, I think I have a pretty good guess," Goon said. Max trembled in his paws, completely unable to move. His neck—he wasn't wearing his scarf. "Never thought I'd see your sorry ass again." His hindpaws went numb; his lungs couldn't bring in air.
"Goon, be nice."
He couldn't even move his ears, his tongue.
"It's just banter, don't worry. Isn't that right, shock-rat?"
Max shoved his paw into his bag to feel his scarf while he still could. Fur. He still had fur. Lungs, he could still breathe. He could move. He was alive. He was fine.
Goon dug his claws into Max's shoulder and yanked him around, saying, "C'mon, lemme see that mug of yours." He raised a brow when Max cowered back, but that didn't diminish the wave of disdain beneath his paper smile. "What's wrong? Look like you've seen a ghost."
Max started to retreat, but stopped himself after the first step. This was why he came. He knew Goon wasn't going to be thrilled to see him. He wanted to grit his teeth and tell Goon off but couldn't manage the energy. Besides, he had to honor his partner. "Sorry, I'm just nervous," he said, wincing in preparation for another quip. None came, but he didn't let out the breath.
"Nothing to be nervous about," Goon said. He smacked his paw into Max's back and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck to keep him from falling. As if to dismiss the notion he'd done it for Max's benefit, he turned his thin smile to Slurpuff. "Don't worry about it. I'll take it from here."
Before Slurpuff or Max could say a word, Goon started dragging him deeper into the building. Max wanted to shout, but he didn't know if he could trust his speech; he wanted to turn to wave at Slurpuff for help, but Goon had a firm grip on the scruff of his neck. The claws digging into his fur made his instincts gnash and claw for control. He brought a paw to his scarf only to grab air.
He could only breathe. It was all he could do to wrest any sense of control back. Even then, his cheeks charged for fear of what Goon had planned. He didn't have to fight the impulse to run with Goon's claws digging into the scruff of his neck at least.
As some sort of sign of good will, Max tried his best to keep pace with Goon, and this effort did not go unnoticed. Once they made it to their destination, Goon rewarded Max by chucking him into the room the second the door opened enough. After bouncing off his bag with an audible squish, Max crashed into the carpet and scurried to the wall. He backed up against it, and his tail came forward to defend him on its own.
"What are you doing here?" Goon asked, seemingly indifferent to Max's fighting stance. Max wanted to look around and see where Goon brought him, but he couldn't take any attention off the zangoose. The sharp teeth, massive claws. "A bit late for the memorial service."
Max felt his breath hitch and couldn't spare the energy to try and cover it up. Goon kept staring at him. Now that they were alone, he didn't bother hiding the inferno of rage in his glare. Max knew that Goon probably had good reason to treat him this way, but he had no idea what he'd done. How was he supposed to own up to what he didn't remember doing?
"I-I'm sorry," he whimpered.
Goon's glare only burned hotter, and his lips pulled into a snarl. "Ohh, went feral, did you?" he scorned. "No wonder you disappeared for so long, right?!" As his voice raised to a scream, Max flinched further behind his tail. "What, fresh out of a Dungeon, are you? I heard you out there!" Max couldn't repress a whimper.
"No!" Goon barked at him. He dashed over to rip Max's tail out from in front of him. "I'm not letting you pull this shit again!" He knelt and dug his claws into Max's chest to keep him from cowering. When combined with grabbing his tail, it worked phenomenally well. Max started to feel anger overtake his terror. "You don't get to leave us—abandon everyone!—and then come back pretending to be sick so you get to pretend to be the victim again!"
"I'm not fucking pretending!" Max screamed back. He reeled back and swiped his tail into Goon's paws to smack them away. The grip gave little resistance.
"Oh, there it is," Goon scoffed. "Stopped playing like a scared little kid, at least." Crossing his arms, he stepped back to give Max much needed space. Even if he still towered over Max, having any air to call his own helped.
Old feelings dredged themselves up from Max's forgotten memories. He tried to shove them away, but they burned in his chest regardless. Since they weren't going anywhere, he tried his best to get a hold of his speech with rage blazing in his chest. With breaths deeper, slower, and steadier than he knew he could manage, he seethed out every individual syllable to say, "I'm. Not. Faking. This."
If Goon believed him, he didn't seem particularly moved. "Oh yeah? You really went and got feral in a dungeon, did you?" he snarled.
"Yes!" Max growled back, biting back a scream at another slip.
Goon tilted his head back in appreciation, though his expression still didn't soften. "All right, I'll believe you," he said with a shrug. "Still haven't told me where you got the nerve to show your face here again." Max didn't have an answer he could manage through grit teeth. Luckily, he didn't really need one, because Goon went on without him.
"I held off on the service for you, y'know," he explained. "I thought that maybe, maybe, you'd finally get out of your own bullshit enough to come pay your respects." He practically bit the air to speak. "The whole fucking Expedition Society came."
A sting of guilt cut into Max, but it couldn't overcome his rage. "Teams from other continents came, teams that we'd only worked with once. We did everything we could to get the word out." Goon let his arms drop to clench his claws into tight fists. "And it looks like you heard, didn't you?" He stared down; Max's glare started to crack. "What, did it take you three weeks to find flying type willing to carry your fat ass?"
At this point, the dig couldn't even pull a rise out of Max. He wanted to scream back, but he didn't have any words. This was his fault. He made the bed, and it was time to lie in it. Every word from Goon further filled the ocean of regret Max had built from the day Mandy came and reminded him what he'd done.
It finally felt like someone was treating him like he deserved.
"I'm sorry," he said. For the first time since he'd gotten there, Goon seemed caught off guard. Max tried to steel himself as he went on, but he couldn't keep his eyes up. "I didn't know there was a service. I-I didn't wan—," he bit his cheek to try and take control back, "—I couldn't believe it." His voice started to break and crack as sobs started creeping their way in. Goon's sneer lightened, but his expression didn't soften at all.
"I-I—" Max tried to bite back the tears, but it was a futile effort. As he tried to dig for more to say, he couldn't find a thing. He brought a paw up to wipe the budding tears away and shook his head. "I'm sorry."
Goon's glare twisted awkwardly to the side. Max could only hope this was an improvement from who he used to be, but Goon looked more uncomfortable than touched. "All right," Goon said; Max could almost hear the choice words the zangoose would've rather said. "Fine. You're sorry. That what you wanted out of this?" Max blinked, then looked up in confusion.
"What?" Goon asked with a blank stare. "Expecting a welcome party?" As soft as he tried to force it, Goon's glare remained. The message Max's partner sent suddenly felt like a sick joke. "We're just trying to move on. I hope you can too, but I'm not exactly emotional support, a'ight?"
When Max whimpered, Goon just shrugged and said, "You'll have better luck crying to your parents."
Those words cut into the same scar Timburr had opened up earlier. Even while he fought between sobs, Max felt his lips pull back into a snarl. A familiar, ready made retort popped out before he knew what he was saying. The words flowed out on their own, and he barely heard himself say, "Great. I'll get right to that once they stop being dead."
Finally, Goon's glare fully dissipated in the face of surprise. He froze with regret, leaving Max to wonder why as he tried to run through his own words. When Max realized what he said, the same surprise hit him ten-fold.
His eyes shot open. He stared miles ahead of him. That—why did he say that? Why would he say that? Why was he so ready to say that? Not a single memory came to clarify for him, and he couldn't dare bring himself to dig. Even without a single memory to call on, he could feel the answer deeper than conscious thought. He brought his paws up to catch his head, then fell back against the wall.
Shaking his head in disbelief, it was all he could do to squeak out, "Th-they're dead?"
The words hit just as hard the second time. He couldn't tell how many years of grief engulfed him in that moment. He couldn't remember. The loss had no faces to it, not a voice, not so much as a touch. It had no context besides an overwhelming absence.
All this time, he didn't know if he'd ever be able to go back. He never let himself care. Now, with just a few words, he had to wonder if he had anyone if he returned. They'd already been functionally gone this whole time. His situation hadn't changed; the world was the same. All that changed was that he felt completely and utterly alone.
His partner, his parents, all echoes that he couldn't call back on. He could only feel the loss without any memories to remember them by. An empty mind bereft of any impression of the love it lost. He only had loss. Isolation and loss.
A stiff, almost mechanical claw rested on the back of his neck. The same claw that had been at his neck a mere few minutes ago. Goon pat him on the back so slowly, so stiffly, that it felt almost like an animatronic paw. It had to be the worst physical comfort Max had ever received, and it only got worse when Goon jerked him into a side-ways hug.
Max sat there in stunned silence with a new crook in his neck. After a moment, he nervously leaned into Goon's soft, fluffy fur. Goon flinched a bit but didn't pull away. Even if he didn't have his awareness, Max could've sensed that Goon would be more comfortable in a pit of needles coated in paprika.
"Sorry," Goon blurted. Max didn't move. Goon didn't move. They continued to sit in their mutual torment. As Max started to lean more and more into Goon's fur, Goon stiffened even more. It clearly took immense effort for him not to shove Max away, and Max appreciated that. To this point, he'd been too stunned to cry. Tears started to form. "I, uh, didn't know. About that."
Max nodded and rested a paw on the claw Goon had wrapped around him. "I-it's okay," he mumbled, just to prevent another endless silence. "I didn't, either."
"Yep," Goon said. "I kinda figured as much." He tried to pat Max on the back (to get Max's paw off him, probably) and nearly smacked the mouse into a forward tumble, but he caught Max just in time. "S-sorry." Max nodded; he accepted the apology. Goon proceeded to try patting Max's back again, this time so gently that Max barely felt it at all. "So, you really, uh. Got sick, huh?"
"Yep," Max mumbled. If he had to prove that, this had to be one of the better methods. "I could go feral if you're still not convinced."
Goon balked down at him and said, "D-dude, you know how dangerous that is?"
Max looked up to answer, then shut his mouth. That was supposed to be a joke. This really wasn't the time for a joke. In fact, he had to wonder if he'd really ever have the right to joke around with Goon. "Y-yeah. I was kidding," he mumbled. He tried to force an awkward smile. It didn't work.
The silence threatened to descend on them again before a puff countered it. Max could barely make out the sound, but then it came back again, then again, then a little bit louder.
Chuckles. Goon was chuckling. "Man," Goon giggled. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Well," Max mumbled. He could actually manage an awkward smile now, and each quake of Goon's chuckling made it a little less awkward. "A lot." He looked up with an apologetic smile and shrugged. "But I'm pretty sure you already knew that." Goon stared down at him with bafflement so severe it made him grimace, save the very edges of his mouth that turned up in a direction that nearly approached a smile.
At least, Max thought it might look like one, but he shook his head and let his eyes fall. Wishful thinking, but he had to face facts. "Sorry," he whimpered.
"Y'know," Goon said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You've apologized so many times before, but I don't think I ever saw you mean it before now." He rubbed at Max's back a touch more fluidly, but Max shrunk into himself.
"Was I really that bad?" Max asked.
"Oh, well, uh," Goon muttered. He brought his claw up from Max's back to scratch at his own neck. "I mean, y'know." Max could feel him scrambling for some euphemism or lie and leered up to nip it in the bud. Goon looked the other way, message received. "Yeah, kinda." Max winced, but it was what he expected at least. "How much did you forget?"
Impulse brought Max's paw up to feel his scarf for comfort, and he felt the familiar spike of panic. He shoved his paw into his bag to feel it before looking around to see where Goon had brought him. Finally, he got a good look at the room and instantly recognized the look of it, if not that specific room.
A dorm. It must've been Goon's. He started to wonder why, but that didn't matter. Already, he was struggling to believe he could move his hindpaws. "Hold on," he whispered and realized his breathing had gotten erratic. "I-I need, s-sorry, I just need this." He bit down once he recognized the slip and knew that he didn't have a chance to fix it without his scarf on.
He yanked it out of his bag in one instant and had it wrapped around in place the next. "I don't—dammit," he started, cutting himself off. His breath had returned, but not his voice, yet. While his left paw held his scarf, his right reached up to feel the bracelet. They rubbed at their respective accessories, and he managed to pull himself back to the present moment with their help.
Goon very graciously remarked on none of that, though it might've been residual awkwardness rather than kindness. Either way, he let Max do what he needed to do in peace. A peace more than a little rough around the edges, but still peace.
"I forgot everything for a while," he said. "Bits and pieces are coming back, but… so much I just can't remember." He brought his left paw out in front of him to look over the bracelet. His claws ran along the beads, tapping at the etched letters while careful not to scratch the paint. Almost on their own, his thoughts shifted to what little he'd managed to recover.
"The first thing I remembered was this," he said, nodding to his scarf. "It's how I figured out who I was." Though, he remembered that realization hadn't come on its own, and remembering Sam brought a smile to his face. "Actually, a little girl decided that's who I was when she learned about that in school."
His smile turned back to a grimace as he thought about the rest. Even if Neb said she'd forgiven him, he still felt awful for what he'd done to Mandy. Idly thinking of the moment was enough to make him feel like he was there again. He tried to steel himself and move on. "Then, one day I met a charmander," he said. "The second I saw her, I remembered…," he winced, "m-my… him. I remembered him."
He quickly prayed that Goon wouldn't notice. His prayer was not answered. Goon squinted down at him and asked, "Him?"
Max glanced up before looking intently at the carpet on the opposite side. The guilt he'd struggled through became so much worse when he had to answer to someone else. "I-I," he mumbled. He tried to build the strength to admit it, but felt himself slipping before he even opened his mouth. Instead, he scrunched down into his scarf and mumbled, "M-my, er, our partner."
He could feel Goon staring down at him. Too terrified to meet the gaze, he tried his best to bury his face into his scarf but only got as far as his nose. If missing the memorial service was a sign, this had to be a blaring siren that he'd never really cared. It was only a matter of time before Goon rightfully told him off.
Goon rested a paw on the top of Max's head and lightly scratched between his ears. "How fucking long were you in there, dude?" he mumbled. It wasn't as caked in judgment as Max anticipated, but he cringed away anyway. He knew it was coming. "You can't remember his name, can you?" This was it. He couldn't hide from it anymore. Max shook his head and braced for the worst, tears already starting to fall.
"Dude, fuckin' relax," Goon said. Max froze in place. "I get it. Going feral does that. I'm not holdin' it against you." Goon kept scratching between the ears Max couldn't believe. Of all the people to understand, Goon? Maybe Goon wasn't as much of an asshole as Max thought. Was Goon just nice?
If that was the case, Max had more and more reason to dread facing his past.
"Ithos," Goon said. A wave of relief came from finally remembering the name again. Goon's next words stemmed that tide. "And I'm Goon." He gave Max another scratch before one last hearty pat to the back and let his paw rest in his lap. "Any other names you need help with? Remember your own?"
The last thing Max expected when he finally built up the nerve was Goon smirking, but that's exactly what he saw. "N-no," he mumbled, eyes darting back to the ground. "Or—yes—I mean—p-Pi kaapika—CHU!" He growled at himself and smushed his sparking cheeks into his paws. He hoped that would tide their flow, but they only sparked more when he heard Goon chuckling. Was Goon making fun of him?
No, Max shook his head to dismiss the idea. Maybe he'd only clashed with Goon as much as he did because he always assumed the worst of the zangoose.
The embarrassment faded with Goon's chuckles, and Max started to feel a bit more peace. "I already remembered my name," he said. He saw Goon's grin challenging him when he glanced up and rolled his eyes. "Max. My name is Max." Goon chuckled a bit, and Max took deep breathes to soothe the nerves Goon kept getting on. "I already knew yours, too."
Finally, Goon's chuckles silenced. "If you don't believe me, I asked Slurpuff to see you," Max said.
"Really?" Goon mumbled. Max started to leer at yet another insinuation he was lying, but he didn't see the accusation he'd expected on Goon's face. Instead, Goon almost looked embarrassed himself. "You, uh," Goon reached up to scratch at the back of his neck, "must not remember, but we didn't really get along."
"No," Max said. Some semblance of confidence came from not being the only nervous one anymore. "I knew that."
"Oh," Goon mumbled. He looked down at Max and tilted his head, trying to decipher the reasoning behind all this. "Were you just that desperate?"
"No," Max grumbled, scrunching back into his scarf again. He didn't want to explain himself, but he wanted to hear Goon's next guess even less. He couldn't admit to the message he got from Ithos, but he could make do without. "But as far as I can remember, I was the dick. I was kinda banking on that." Based on the look Goon gave him, Max got the impression that he'd said something wrong.
After a short glance at Max, though, Goon shook his head with the lightest of chuckles. "You actually came here to make things right?" Goon asked, though he didn't wait for confirmation. "You knew about everything, and despite not remembering shit, hoped I'd let you try and own up."
Goon shook his head some more, chuckling, "You son of a bitch." Even despite the joking tone, Max flinched away, trying to figure out what he did to piss Goon off. "You did it. After all this time, you finally managed to make me the asshole."
Max couldn't make out the words and barely heard the tone at all as he tried to shrink his way into the wall. "P-Pii pichu," he apologized with a whimper.
When Goon looked down at him, Max couldn't see the concern. He only saw vicious teeth and massive claws. "Whoah, hey," Goon said. He got up and raised his paws to back away. "It's all right. I'm not gonna hurt'cha."
The words were essentially meaningless to Max, but the added distance gave him just enough footing to get a grip. He already had his bracelet and scarf in his paws, so he only had to focus on them. Feel his surroundings, stabilize his breath, and calm down. After only a moment, he managed to look up at Goon without feeling the need to flee.
"Ugh, sorry," Max groaned. He'd known this wouldn't be easy, but his instincts were a much worse barrier than he'd expected. "I thought I had them more under control than this," he explained, attempting a neutral tone but falling to a whimper towards the end.
"Hey, uh," Goon muttered, "It's cool." Out of concern, he kept a watchful eye on Max, but the mouse didn't feel the concern as much as he felt pitiful. "You just got out, right? I mean, your ear's still fresh, so y'know." Goon managed a smile as warm as deli meat, and it comforted Max as much as the mistaken words. "You'll probably be fine in a few days."
"Goon," Max mumbled. He dreaded clearing this up, but he didn't have much of a choice. "I've been out for a few months." Twitching it down, he glanced up at his ear. "This was from a botched piercing yesterday."
"Oh," Goon said. After a moment to really process it, his eyes went a bit wider and he repeated, with more emphasis, "Oh." He stared at Max, seeming entirely indifferent to the discomfiture that inflicted. "Shit, man." Max's ears fell with his tail as he averted his gaze. Unfortunately, Goon's gaze remained vivid in his awareness. "When did you get out?"
Max paused in thought. He couldn't exactly remember, but it wasn't because of Dungeon sickness for once. "June? July?" he guessed with a light shrug. He glanced up to gauge Goon's reaction and immediately regretted seeing the deepening bafflement. Maybe he could at least glean some new knowledge from this. "I don't really know when I left, but I'm pretty sure I went into a Dungeon basically immediately."
"What?!" Goon shouted, then pulled back when he saw Max cower away. "Sorry, but, dude, you left in February!" At first, that sounded a lot more recent than Max expected, but a creeping dread came shortly after. Soon, Goon confirmed the worst. "Last February."
Awful as the revelation was, Max could muster a frown and a sideways glance. "That's pretty bad," he said with a shrug. He already knew the state of his condition. This didn't change much of what he already knew.
"Arceus, dude, did you have a death wish?" Goon asked, mouth hanging half open.
When Max winced, Goon slammed his mouth shut. Max had only admitted as much to Cori so far (though Eleos probably knew as well), and he wasn't ready to come out and say it. It was already out, though. Maybe if he'd predicted and hidden his reaction, he could've avoided that, but it was too late, now. Far too late. He brought his tail forward to hug it against his chest. "Yeah, kinda," he mumbled.
For trying to own up to his mistakes, he was sure spending a lot of time talking about his own woes. "B-but, look," Max said, forcing a neutral tone. "I didn't come here to tell you how terrible it was for me. These were my mistakes." He looked up at Goon and immediately looked off to the side when their eyes met.
"I just wanted to…," he trailed off. In the end, he'd really only done this because Ithos (it felt so right to finally be able to think his name again) told him to. He couldn't fully admit that, though. "I just… if I couldn't fix things with him," his voice hitched, and he slightly growled to keep it steady, "I thought that this was the least I could do." Despite his best efforts, he could feel his eyes starting to water.
Max was too preoccupied trying to rid the evidence of his tears that he didn't notice Goon kneeling until he reached out a claw to grab Max by the chin, and Max squeaked out a, "Pi!" in surprise.
Goon nodded thoughtfully, looking intently over Max's face. He turned Max's head to one side to see it closer, then the other, then back to the front. He hummed in thoughtful investigation, and that was when Max had finally had enough and shoved Goon's paw away. "What are you doing?" he growled.
"Trying to check who the fuck you are," Goon said with a smirk that stayed strong against Max's glare. "Don't think I've ever seen you not talk about how terrible it was for you." His smirk turned softer, more genuine. "'S'a good improvement."
"Thanks," Max grumbled, looking away. He was too angry from the momentary 'monhandling to feel flustered. Instead, he felt the full brunt of the compliment. He didn't get a chance to really process the feelings, though, as Goon started getting up and motioned him to do the same. This was about the end of all he could say, he supposed, and he didn't want to take more of Goon's time than he already had. Still, he felt a bit disappointed.
"C'mon, let's go to your old dorm," Goon said.
"She asked me to stay
And she told me to sit anywhere
So I looked around
And I noticed there wasn't a chair"
"Bro, it's a dorm," Goon groaned. Max had had his paw on the knob for a good few minutes at this point, and he just couldn't bring himself to turn it. A roiling dread built in his chest as he stood there. "Man, what can you possibly be afraid of in there?"
Goon's constant gendering didn't help, either, though it's not like Max could blame him. All things considered, Goon was being incredibly patient and helpful, so it felt wrong to complain about something so minor. Also, not complaining about it meant he didn't have to open up about his complicated feelings about gender with someone who probably didn't want to hear it, so it was clearly the best option.
"You sure you even need me here?" Goon grumbled. He was a nice guy, but there's only so long anyone can watch someone else stare at a doorknob before having second thoughts.
"Headaches," Max mumbled. It was the first thing he'd said since they entered the hallway, so Goon relented ever so slightly in his frustration. "Well, you don't really have to be here, though." Max glanced along the ground. His arm was getting sore holding up his paw, but he worried he'd never get it back up if he let it down. "It's just, well, I might… faint. A little."
"Faint?" Goon asked, biting back on his impatience. Plenty of his frustration still broke through, though, despite his best efforts. Regardless, Max really appreciated the effort.
"Yeah," Max said. "Thinking about memories gives me really bad headaches, and sometimes I can faint from them." Goon looked a bit confused, but at least he didn't look suspicious. "Apparently that doesn't usually happen. Neb thinks it's because of my, uh. Other. So." Every day, Max came closer to closer to letting his human identity slip. "P-previous problems with—"
"Max, I already know about that," Goon said. "You never told me, but it's kinda obvious. You and Ithos saved the world, and when that kinda thing happens, there's always one human." Max wanted to tell Goon to quiet the hell down, but the casual tone made him hesitate. "I knew Ithos since we were kids…."
Goon suddenly paused as a very slight waver appeared in his voice. Then, before Max could blink, Goon went on, "So that only left you."
"Oh," Max said. He knew Goon was trying to cover it up, but he couldn't ignore that hint of vulnerability that appeared. Was it any of his business, though? Or would it be worse to act like it never happened? He wanted to be better than he was. Caring about someone else's grief felt like a necessary part of that. "You… knew him for that long?"
Goon grabbed Max's paw, turned the knob and pulled the door open, forcing Max out of the way with a hindpaw. "Quit stalling," he said, then dragged Max inside.
Max followed him in, but ripped his forepaw out of Goon's claws after the first step. "I wasn't stalling, you asshole," he growled. Goon turned to look down with narrowed, bored eyes. The glare ripped into Max's memory, several at once, though not one formed enough for him to fully recall. He could only remember that glare.
When he shook himself out of it, he felt a paw on the back of his head. He looked around and saw Goon's arms holding him up. "You weren't kidding," Goon said. "Good?"
Max nervously jerked up with a nod. "Y-yeah, thanks," he mumbled. Goon kept his paws near for a moment until he was sure Max was stable. "Of all the things to remember." Max chuckled a bit, shaking his head. "You must've looked at me like that a lot."
Goon almost started to deny as much before chuckling along with him. "Maybe a bit," he said with a shrug. He looked around the room and nodded at Max to do the same. "Look like you remembered?"
Max had been dreading this part. He braced himself, and Goon kept a watchful eye on him to watch for another fall. Max closed his eyes and pulled in a deep breath, then let it out as he opened his eyes and looked around. It was a relatively clean, carpeted room with a couch and a few chairs around a coffee table. Off to one side, a half-open cabinet full of board games sat against the wall.
No kitchen to speak of, Max assumed it was in one of the two doors opposite each other. "No?" he mumbled. Was he really sociable enough to host so often that he had a board game cabinet? Looking around, the room almost looked familiar, but barely.
He walked over to the couch. Was it a futon? Surely his dorm had a bed. Climbing on top of it took some effort, but it seemed built roughly to his size. He at least didn't need to jump. The cushions only slightly gave to his weight, though. Softer than hay, at least. "I guess this is where I slept?" he wondered aloud, then looked to the surrounding chairs.
The couch gave him a nice place to scooch into as his confusion began to bud into uncertainty and fear. "I don't know," he mumbled. His ears fell, and he brought his tail to his chest to hug it. Was Neb wrong? Coming back here should have revitalized his memory.
"I'm pretty sure I've slept there more than you've sat there," Goon said. He managed a soft smile, at least, though his voice always had a cheeky bite to it. "You usually slept in your bedroom."
Max wanted to burrow into the cushions beneath him. "Why does my dorm get so many rooms?" he asked, looking between the other two. "A living room, a bed room, a…," he cautiously looked up to Goon with one ear raised, "kitchen?" Goon shook his head, and Max looked away as his cheeks sparked.
"You really don't remember anything, do you?" Goon asked. He took a seat in the chair on the right while Max shook his head. "Team leads get joint dorms." He pointed to the wall opposite him. "That's your bedroom," he turned his claw to point behind, "And that one's Ithos'." More embarrassment started to spark Max's cheeks as he shrunk deeper into the couch. "Anything?"
Max silently shook his head.
Goon mirrored the action and let his gaze fall to the coffee table, muttering, "Damn." Max whimpered, which made Goon straighten up. Without any way to comfort him, though, Goon kept silent. Max could practically feel the awkward discomfort as clearly as if Eleos still resided in his heart. "Well, hey," Goon said. "Maybe you'll have better luck with your room?"
"You don't have to stay, all right?" Max mumbled. With such little progress, he felt like bringing Goon along was just wasting his time. The guilt and embarrassment started to mount, leaving him feeling that he'd be better off alone.
"Hey, come on, man," Goon said. He leaned over to reach a paw onto Max's shoulder. Max didn't bother looking up; he could feel the awkward hesitation in Goon's hold, and it only made him feel worse. "Look, yeah, I bet it sucks, but, well, y'know." The way Goon trailed off made it clear he didn't know, either. "Maybe it just takes time?"
"It doesn't have to take your time," Max growled. He jerked his shoulder away and hopped off the couch. "You don't want to be here, and you don't have to be."
"Oh, come the fuck on," Goon said, yanking Max out of himself for a moment. "You still do this shit? Really?" Max glared up with a snarl, but Goon merely looked bored. He'd leaned over to rest his face against a claw. "No, I don't want to be here, and a pretty decent part of me still wants to kick your ass for fun. Unfortunately, I still give a shit about you, all right?"
Max struggled to keep his glare against incoming confusion. He tried to figure out what any of that meant on his own but came up blank. At least he could focus on the parts he did understand. "Kick my ass, then, I won't stop you."
Goon rolled his eyes. Rather than reply, he kept a piercing stare on Max. The silence ate away at Max as it came, but Goon only continued to look entirely disinterested. Max's eyes darted around, and his tail started to flick in agitation until he finally threw his arms out and asked, "What?!"
"Ithos wasn't the only one worried when you left, dipshit," Goon said. Max flinched away, surprise further eating into his anger. Ithos had said something like that in his message, hadn't he? "I only joined this goddamn team because you kept nearly getting yourself killed." Despite the inflammatory words, Goon's tone remained completely disinterested.
"Yeah, this shit's dangerous, but I didn't have to worry about Ithos being a fucking dumbass," Goon went on. Max wanted to object to the insults, but he couldn't overcome his own shock. "I swear, you'd jump off a cliff if you thought it'd make you look cool."
"What?" Max balked, finally breaking out of his own stunned silence. Did Jake have some ties with the Expedition Society? "How the hell do you know about that?!"
Goon snorted and covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing. Holding his head in his paws, he shook his head in disbelief. "You insane idiot," he mumbled. "I was exaggerating." All the anger in Max's expression incinerated into stunned silence. "Making up something so goddamn stupid that even you could think it was ridiculous. And you've fucking done it since you left."
"I knew it was safe," Max mumbled. It was a weak defense, and he couldn't even explain it.
"Oh yeah? Safer than not jumping off a cliff?" Goon asked. Max turned away, rubbing a paw over his recently healed shoulder. "Honestly, dude. Maybe hanging with you would've sucked less if you cared about yourself even a little bit."
"Then leave me the fuck alone!" Max shouted. Despite raising his voice as loud as it would go, though, it still didn't get the slightest reaction out of Goon. It was starting to make a lot more sense to Max why he and Goon never got along. "If I'm so shitty to be around, then stop wasting your time!"
"Yellow Streams of Suicune, man, can you listen to more than half of what I said?" Goon asked. "Here, I'll make it easier for you. I still give a shit about you. I was worried when you left, dipshit. I don't want you to run off and kill yourself trying to look cool."
"You've got a hell of a way of showing it," Max said.
"By saying it explicitly?" Goon asked. Max clenched his teeth to hold back a comeback that he didn't have. When Goon rolled his eyes, Max would've given his immortal soul for literally any clever retort to throw back. "Look, you want me to go, I'm gone. See you in the next life. But you don't really seem to want that, so I'm still here."
Finally, an end in sight. All Max had to do was say the word, and Goon was out of his fur. Goon would leave, and Max would be alone, surrounded by a room that he couldn't remember at all despite spending he didn't know how many hours in. After that, he could traipse into his old bedroom, have his old life surround him, without anyone there. Just him and the past he couldn't recall.
"Fuck you," Max whimpered. He brought up a paw to wipe the fresh tears and turned away to retain what little pride he could.
"You wish," Goon said.
Max paused his wiping to glare a side-eye at Goon, then grumbled, "No. No, I don't."
Finally, after all this time, Goon's sheer boredom went away. His eyes shot open in panic, and he threw his paw up to his neck. After feeling it intently, he let out a theatric sigh of relief. "Phew, had me worried there for a second," Goon said. "But I do have a pulse, so you definitely would."
Once the joke landed, Max clenched his paw. He tried to scream, but he could only manage to whimper, "Really?" Hearing his own pathetic voice made him turn the rest of the way around. He tried to hang on to the offense, let the insult rile him up, but he couldn't muster up the energy. He couldn't muster up anything more than tears and a few whimpers. "Why can't you just hate me?"
"Never said I didn't," Goon said. One of Max's wilted ears tilted up to listen. "Yeah, I kinda hated you, and I'm pretty sure you hated me even more, but we were still friends." Relationships never made sense to Max, but it didn't help when they were utter, contradictory nonsense. "Is your head gonna blow again if I tell you a story?"
"Maybe," Max mumbled. The more he listened to Goon, he could almost catch a hint of sympathy. He spoke every word with a caustic venom, but it did have this almost tenderness beneath. "Go ahead."
"All right, get up here," Goon said. He'd snuck right up behind Max while he wasn't paying attention and snatched him up by the neck. Before Max could even yell, he was sitting next to Goon on the couch. Goon scratched down his back a few times. "We were playing Monopoly. You remember what that is, or should I explain?"
"I fucking know Monopoly," Max grumbled.
"Great, less work for me," Goon said, reaching up to scratch at Max's head again. "Ithos had next to half the board after clearing Oshton out." Max looked up with timid confusion. "Oshawott on the team, but she's evolved since you left." Matter of fact and judgment free, Max nodded at the explanation, and he realized Goon was genuinely just checking if he could remember Monopoly earlier.
"Thanks," Max mumbled.
Goon simply nodded and went on, "You'd just landed on free parking. After seeing Oshton go out, you offered to trade me every single property you had and all of your money for a get out of jail free card." Goon chuckled. "I don't think I've ever seen Ithos so fucking pissed."
"Really?" Max mumbled. He'd clutched his scarf and started looking intently at the couch beneath him. It sounded almost familiar. He could at least picture the scene, though he felt more like he was just recreating what Goon described.
"Remember that?" Goon asked.
"Maybe?" Max reached around to scratch at the back of his neck. He'd never sat on the couch, had he? No, looking at it, the coffee table would've been way too far for him to reach. Really, any of the chairs would've been a bit of a pain. Cautiously, he got up and stepped to the edge of the couch before hopping onto the table. From there, he could almost see everyone else. "I played… here?"
"Bingo," Goon said. "You always were a gremlin."
Max merely nodded at that, barely registering what Goon said at all. It was faint, ever so faint, but he finally felt like he'd been in that room before. He looked around, trying to feel for the part of the table that felt the most familiar. His instincts objected as he turned his back to the center of the room, but he recognized the view when he did.
Ithos, Max could almost see that tail-flame ablaze as he gave all his properties and money to Goon. "Then… he said…," Max mumbled. It was on the tip of his tongue, he could almost place it. All at once, it flicked alight like a match. "Mother of Creation. I hate you, y'know that?"
His paw went to his scarf, but not for comfort. As he squeezed the fabric, he felt his smile grow wide. He'd actually remembered something. It was a dumb little moment, and it felt like the most important one of his life.
"Glad I stayed?" Goon asked. The snarky smile didn't even register to Max, and he didn't even bother looking up to nod. Max had a smile of his own. He sniffled as yet more tears threatened to trickle out of his eyes. "You sure you're not a water type?"
"I know one," Max said. He looked up, beaming a smile at Goon with wet eyes.
Nerves finally hit Goon harder than they hit Max. Goon broke his gaze away to stare at the room on Max's right. "Great, well, you need me in there so you don't crack your head on the floor?" Goon asked.
"There?" Max said, glancing over where he was looking. Despite the new memory, he couldn't quite remember which room was which. "That's… who's room is that?"
"Yours," Goon said. He hopped up and swung a claw down to nudge Max in the same direction. "C'mon, don't make me carry you again." Pokes and prods from his claws gave Max little choice in the matter, forcing him to flop down to all fours to try and escape. It barely made him any faster, but he managed to duck under Goon's reach before he had to hop down.
For the sake of practice, he kept the posture as he scurried over to the door. It felt a lot less awkward anymore, but he could never get the speed he wanted out of it. When he made it to the door, he turned to see Goon had stopped to watch.
"That's definitely interesting," Goon mumbled. He shook his head and started over when Max tilted his head in confusion. "Glad you're at least trying to walk normal. I'll show you later."
Max's ears fell, and he quickly perked back up to his hindpaws. The door couldn't open itself, after all. He put his forepaw on the knob, turned it, and pushed. After about an inch, he hit something behind the door. Whatever blocked it didn't feel too heavy, though, so he tried to push past it only for more resistance to come with every inch. It wasn't long until he had all of his weight braced against the door.
The door started to push back, but the force halted right before Max lost his balance. He looked up to see Goon holding it in place. Confusion didn't touch the zangoose, though. Max looked at the door, then back at Goon. Did Goon know what this was?
"You fucking owe me," Goon grumbled. Before giving any clarification, he sighed and shoved his shoulder into the door. It only pushed it open a few more inches, but it was just enough for Max to squeeze through. Even then, it was only barely. Max rushed to push through the gap, wood scraping him from both sides. He managed to get his head through by shoving it open a little bit more with his arms.
After that, it got caught on his shoulders. He tried to turn the other way and shimmied a little bit further in until he got to his chest. The door squeezed him tight. His cheeks sparked as he felt it squeezing into his chub, but he managed to finally force his way the rest of the way through.
His cheeks started sparking a lot worse once he saw the mess blocking the door. A pile of clothes—shirts, shorts, scarves, hats, all manner of accessories—as tall as him started right behind and spanned all the way to the wall behind the door. More accurately, the wall that would be behind the door if it could still open all the way. He'd not even considered clothes as an option in recent memory.
"Jesus Christ," he mumbled. Maybe he hadn't ever gotten used to wearing nothing but a scarf. Still, he didn't remember wearing anything in any of the sparse memories that had returned.
"You dead in there?" Goon asked.
"N-no," Max shouted back. That sliver of an opening had barely let him through—Goon didn't have a chance of squeezing in. Max ran over to the mound that had already shut the door and started tossing the clothes out of the way, quite literally doing nothing but redistributing the mess. Somehow, that had already started to stress him out. Maybe it was a blessing he had nothing but notes and a bag in his hovel, now.
Barely making a dent in the mess, he at least got enough out of the way that he could pull the door further back. He could hear Goon groaning from the other side before he saw red paws reach around to pull through the gap. A thick sneer of disgust twisted Goon's mouth into a frown as he stepped into whatever cloth covered the carpet.
Goon looked down at him with that same sneer and said once again, "You fucking owe me."
Max had no defense whatsoever. His only rebuttal, if it could even be called that, came from several embarrassed sparks bouncing down his cheeks. Beyond that, though, he felt a bit of dread having Goon in there with him at all.
Tail swishing nervously behind him, Max stumbled his way deeper into the room. How much money did they make if he could afford this many clothes despite never using any of them? If the organization took care of room and board, maybe he'd used the rest for entertainment. Even then, this seemed beyond excessive.
"It fucking reeks in here," Goon said, paw pressed over his nose.
That violently yanked Max out of his thoughts, and he glared back to snap, "No it doesn't." Goon raised a brow to challenge, but Max genuinely didn't know what he was talking about. Even if he did, the reminder Goon was in there made him far too angry to walk it back. He had to stop and breathe to soothe the agitation even somewhat, helping him realize the air was admittedly stale.
"Sorry," Max grumbled back. He really, really wanted to tell Goon to get the fuck out. "Did I not let you in here?"
Goon snorted and said, "You didn't even let Ithos in here."
"Really?" Max asked, now curious enough to focus on that instead. Yeah, a messy room was embarrassing, but was he really that cagey about it? Maybe he'd worried that everyone would find out he was a human if they knew about his obsession with clothes, but that wouldn't explain why he didn't even let Ithos know.
Pulling up the nearest shorts and shirt, he felt even more nervous about Goon in there with him, but he couldn't figure out why. It made it hard for him to even see what he was holding. He shook his head to try and reassert his focus and looked down at what he'd picked up: shorts that looked a lot like Libre's, and a crop top that said, "Yeah, I'm a f—," oh that was a slur. He threw the shirt face down praying Goon hadn't seen it.
At least it was one he could reclaim.
He reached under where he'd gotten the shorts and found another third of the outfit. That answered where he'd heard of Libre, at least. Same lightning-esque design on the shorts, red stripes on the back, did he have the mask, too?
"Hey, isn't that what that one wrestler wears?" Goon asked. "Yeah, Libre. Huh. Didn't take you for a wrestling fan." It was neutral, at least as neutral as Goon could manage, but Max had to focus hard not to read any judgment or mockery behind it. Max had also struggled not to freeze in fear at yet another reminder Goon was in there with him, though, so perhaps it was just an extension of that.
"Me neither," Max said. "Was I just embarrassed about that?" He was almost certain that wasn't why he kept his room locked down, but he didn't want Goon to catch on to the real reason. A skirt jabbing into his paw when he stepped into it along with the first shirt he'd picked up gave him a very solid guess.
"Sure," Goon said.
Max had never been happier to hear disinterest in his life. He was in the clear, and Goon probably didn't know enough about clothes to tell they were gendered, either. Max bit his cheek to ignore the pain in his hindpaw and watched his step more as he looked around for a flash of orange. If he had the mask, he could only hope he hadn't buried it. He couldn't see anything on the ground and started to lose hope until he glanced up.
There it sat, hanging off the top of a dresser. Why did he even have a dresser if the ground held all his clothes so well? It wasn't too tall, but he'd have to jump to grab it. Whatever held it up, he only hoped that it wasn't hooked on anything.
As Max carefully made his way over, Goon tilted his head back to think. Goon started to mumble, "Wait, isn't Libre a…," and stopped when Max hopped up to yank the mask down. Max caught a glimpse of a massive pile of yellow and black cloth at the peak of his jump, then snatched the mask down—bringing a good chunk that pile with it.
All of them fell all over him, wrapping around him like ropes—some even had strings attached. He tried to keep his balance, but ultimately fell on his ass. He at least managed to shake his face free of them and glanced down at a few of the devils that had already fallen off.
"Oh," he and Goon said in unison. Tail sleeves. Some elastic, some with ties, some pure yellow, some with black accents—and all ending in hearts instead. If the mask didn't have eye-holes, Max would've definitely put it over his head. He even considered putting it on backwards.
As nervous as he felt, though, it didn't hold a candle to the burgeoning terror on Goon's face. "L-look, okay, look, uh," he stuttered out. All of a sudden, he was as unwilling to maintain eye contact as Max. Max started to cower away—was it really that bad? "L-listen, okay, I—I swear that's not why I hated you—I had no idea!" Goon glanced back at him, then turned away to scratch his neck.
Oh. So that was the concern. Max let out a simple sigh of relief. "Don't worry, I didn't think that," he said. Goon relaxed so much it seemed like he might collapse, but Max wasn't really looking at him. He'd taken to picking up all the different tail sleeves that had toppled onto him. At least he knew why he didn't want anyone but himself in there. "I'm pretty sure even Ithos didn't know."
"Yeah?" Goon hummed, clearly still on edge. "Yeah, y'know, uh, cool." He glanced over at Max for scarce milliseconds, but it was enough to see what he was doing. "This news to you, too?"
"Well, sort of," Max mumbled. Of all the people to find this out, why did Goon have to be the… third. Secrets really weren't Max's specialty. "The past few days, I've asked a few friends to refer to me as a girl."
"Really?" Goon asked, immediately adding, "Well, yeah, y'know, cool. Whatever makes you happy, man." He turned to give a tepid thumb's up, desperately nervous smile on his face. Since there wasn't any excuse at this point, Max replied with a pleading look. Goon panicked slightly before almost jumping when he realized the slip. "Or—girl?"
Max laughed. This day couldn't have gone better or worse. With it all said and done, though, she could breathe a lot easier.