Every person has heard the saying "hindsight is twenty-twenty!" at least once in their lives. Even if they haven't, they've likely had an experience that conveys the meaning of the phrase.

If they still haven't, then they are either the embodiment of perfection somehow, or simply believe they are.

For me, it took around ten steps away from the motel for the realization to set in.

"Not even a map. I didn't even think about it-" I groaned, my head lolling backwards.

In my hazed stupor, I'd forgotten to memorize my route through the village.

'Another fork in the road. At least this problem isn't a complete hassle; I may as well try and make conversation at the front desk.' I rationalized. 'Maybe I could pick up a thing or two.'

A pinch of deja vu mended with the soreness of my legs as I stepped onto the doorstep of the motel. The door was propped open with a small wood block, and the hum of an air conditioning unit droned inside. The outside area was practically vacant aside from a Growlithe basking in the rays by the porch railing.

Stepping through the doorway, I felt a rush of cool air hit me. The room seemed to repaint itself from my fuzzy recollection; the quaint, rural atmosphere inviting me inside. The familiarity felt odd considering I hardly remembered the first visit.

As my eyes first swept the lobby, the display adjacent to the door caught my attention. Various brochures and pamphlets sat in neat rows trying to grab my attention with a lone pile of noticeably thicker pamphlets sat on the coffee table beside it.

I unfolded one of the thick pamphlets.

Upon further inspection, I began to recognize a few of the highlighted locations.

'Maire-Ody… I'm in the Santa-Lune Motel right over… ah, so these are the maps I missed. They're a bit tucked away from the other brochures. Not sure why, but I can see how I missed it.'

I slid the map into my back pocket.

Glancing beyond the counter, I spotted the receptionist twirling a breakfast bar between his fingers, reclined in an office chair. He seemed to be no older than I, his less pronounced features and shaggy brown hair speaking to the lax teen's age. He didn't appear to be very preoccupied at the moment.

As I sauntered closer to the front desk, the creak of the floorboards underfoot caught the young man's ear. He briefly peered at me before swallowing what little of the bar he had in his mouth and adjusting his posture. The drowsy luster in the boy's eye was gone, now replaced by a slightly too awake stare.

The juvenile receptionist rolled his chair closer as he let out an awkward cough. "Um, good morning. Are you checking in…?"

"Not necessarily. I'd actually like to know when my cut off is." I replied blankly.

The boy blinked a few times, then swiveled to a cluster of papers along his right. As he thumbed through the stack, the light trickling in caught the silvery tag pinned to his lapel, the name "Matthew" shining occasionally.

"First and last name?"

"Norman Benac."

Matthew rustled through the scattered sheets for another moment, eventually withdrawing a partially wrinkled form. The youthful employee eyed both myself and the form cautiously before shuffling the papers again.

"The cut off will be around, uhm…" He glanced over my shoulder. "It's at ten. There won't be any worries though, take your time."

I followed the boy's gaze, swiveling around to find a wooden clock hung to the right of the air conditioning unit.

'It's only 8:47 in the morning? How-? I spent hours repairing my wardrobe, and yet it's still this early. It would explain why I felt so groggy at first.'

Brushing the mounting questions, I faced Matthew. "Appreciated. Wasn't quite sure when exactly it was."

His posture relaxed a bit after my response. "Of course, my pleasure. Anything else I can, uh- help out with?"

"Yes, I remember before I came in yesterday- there was a massive track stadium when I passed through. I caught wind of a Rhyhorn race of some sort going on, but I'm unsure on the details since I've never been through Odyssey Village before. Would you mind if I asked a bit about them?"

"Oh, not at all. That's fine."

"Perfect. I also remember hearing about a race happening sometime today, do you know when that may be?"

Matthew shifted in his seat somewhat. "Umm… sort of? I wasn't plannin' on going, but usually they start sometime around two-ish? Sometime around there."

I nodded thoughtfully. "Ah, got it. What about the racers? I think I read somewhere that sometimes they accept volunteers?"

"The volunteer rounds? Those? Oh, yeah- the sign up for that closes off around twelve sharp. I, uh… don't really know when they open up, but it'd prolly be soon."

I took a moment to mark the time down in my journal. As I slid the pen into the journal's hold, I froze upon recalling an older question left sitting in the depths.

"The cafe- that… Opum- no, Opämde. Yes, do you know when the Opämde Cafe opens in the morning?"

The teen's eyes flicked around the room. "Uh, I'm- nine, probably?"

'He doesn't know. It was worth a try anyway, but 'may as well head over now. Standing around for too long is becoming painful.'

Finishing the second set of scribbling, I clamped the book shut and fastened my satchel. "Well, I appreciate the help, Matthew."

The boy nodded mindlessly as he stared a hole through my head, quickly snapping back to reality. "Sure thing, uh, mister. Have a good day."

"You as well." I called over my shoulder from the doorway, offering a parting wave.

As I made my way down the front steps, I began to stretch out my back, sliding a hand into my pocket. Unraveling the map, I traced along the possible routes to the cafe. At a sluggish pace, the journey would take around half an hour at most. Considering that I had ample time to kill, a leisurely trip for breakfast was sounding swell. Fenway likely thought the same.

Stepping away from the motel, the beaming sun enveloped the world as the rural environment came back into view. The sleepy villas sat scattered along the smooth dirt roads and the streets for the most part appeared barren. Occasionally I even spotted an Oddish scitter along the unkempt grass or Flabébé whimsically drifting in the wind.

It honestly seemed like every one of the settlements I visited was perfect in their own way as though every little detail clicked together like puzzle pieces. The atmosphere of Santalune oozed artistic beauty and a relaxed joy like the town was built from a soothing melody. Odyssey Village was closer to an open prairie, a picnic spot turned into an obscure gem of a borough.

Despite the blazing pain constantly flowing from my feet, I felt a sense of comfort. The sun was bright without overburdening heat, the muffled crunch of pebbles complimented the distant chirps of bug pokemon- it certainly helped ease the tensions building in my body from walking.

As fate would have it, the cafe ended up being in the deeper portion of the village, deceptively far from where the map had me believe. On my way there I'd collected a number of various glances, most ranging from innocent curiosity to downright fear. Most tried to hide their apprehension, but they likely didn't realize how obvious they were.

'This is going to be a normal thing, huh? Well, my clothes probably don't help my case much.' I had sighed to myself.

Nonetheless, my journey had come to a halt at the glass double doors of the Opämde Cafe. On the outside, the building seemed to fit right in with the rest of the town, with the simple brick foundation and dark, wooden walls. Directly above the doors sat the sign of the restaurant, the name written in suave, orange letters bringing with artistic skill. A vast wall of rose bushes lined the front exterior, with a handful of intertwining vines descending from the lip of the roof avoiding the windows. Long windows encased in smooth, tan panes lined the walls, slightly tinted glass making a glance inside nigh impossible with the brilliant sunlight.

The pungent scent of various coffee roasts swathed the building, tickling my nostrils. Aside from the impressive floral decorations, it wasn't a grandiose flair but rather a handcrafted, loving flourish.

Pressing against the doors, I sauntered through under the choir of chimes hung on the frame.

As expected, the interior closely resembled that of the rustic exterior, although it could've easily been mistaken as a secret haven. Booths and tables filled the various elevations of the cafe, most occupied by trainer and pokemon alike enjoying a meal. Many types of flora hung from baskets with neighboring fans and lamps, whose glow mingled with the sunlight trickling in from the array of skylights. Some seats were significantly larger than others with booths connected, likely created for trainers with larger pokemon. If there was any location that could perfectly define the word "comfortable", this was it.

Sauntering past many of the tables, I noted only a small handful of tentative eyes, a stark contrast to most others I had passed by on the way. At one point, there seemed to be a man around my age – perhaps just a few years older than l – eying me with an unreadable expression.

Something gnawed in the back of my mind the more I searched the man's features. Whether it was from the jet-black pixie cut, slender nose, or cat-like black eyes, I couldn't locate the cause. It wasn't anything childish like a crush or something else ridiculous, but it seemed… familiar?

I blinked a few times.

Of course not. I'd never seen him in my life. I could count the number of people I'd spoken to after I arrived with my hand. I could even recall each by name.

…but him? Nothing.

Upon realizing he'd caught my attention, the intriguing man quickly turned away.

I blew a puff from my nose and cast the mystery aside. To ease my mind a bit, I scanned the menu hung above the register. Each of the items were handwritten on a blackboard in elegant chalk-penmanship, some even with cute illustrations adorning them. All of the options were able to get a rise out of my stomach.

Eventually I waded through the line to the counter, placing an order for a dark roast and bagel sandwich. I wasn't sure what to get Fenway, so I chose a small platter within my price range I hoped she would like.

After taking a seat at a window booth and releasing Fenway, an alarming realization popped into my head. Rummaging through the satchel's pockets, I withdrew my hand only to be met with an empty palm. With a soft frown, I clipped it back.

Our breakfast had run the last coin I had left. I was broke.

'When did I start running low on funds? I never had any issues with my savings on my Earth. I'm usually so frugal-'

I thought for a moment.

'Poor point of reference. They're separate currencies and circumstances, after all. I suppose I… should've seen it coming. This bag did seem to cost a pretty penny, even if I thought I had plenty of pocket change leftover.'

As I continued crafting plans, I peered towards Fenway. The tiny fox pokemon sat prim and proper as usual, her eyes sparkling as they flicked across various people and furniture. She must've caught a whiff of the food as well, as she'd often sniff around with her snout raised up high. There was a phrase for it- I think it was… "tasting the air", or something along those lines. I'd never written for animals much.

Regardless of phrasing, the fox loved to sniff. She would smell her own seat a few times with one paw raised. I even snuck a peek of her poking the cushion when she thought I wouldn't notice. I guessed it was just her stomach talking.

Thankfully for both of our rowdy appetites, our food came strolling shortly thereafter. With a brief "Enjoy!", the waitress slid the plates in front of us. Considering how the only thing keeping me from starving was a pair of nutrition bars from the prior day, I was all but ready to scarf it down then and there. My better judgment forced me to my chair though.

To my surprise, Fenway remained seated, observing her platter.

I paused, tuna bagel inches from my mouth. "Fenway?"

The pokemon perked up.

"Is something wrong with your food?"

Her eyes flicked between me and the plate, tail swaying.

"I don't know what that means."

Fenway replied with an odd coo.

I sat in silence for a moment, mystified. After a few seconds, I rubbed my eye with a grunt, and pushed the farmer's omelet closer to her.

"Whatever is bothering you, I don't get it. You don't need my permission to eat. Just go ahead."

The fennec blinked at me, twitching an ear. Eventually, she took a hesitant bite while keeping an eye on me. With a cry of delight, another bite was taken, and then another.

Fenway began to devour the omelet, although she seemed… elegant with how she did so. She looked to have adopted a rhythm, taking a few bites to chew, then swallow. I found it interesting, as I found myself observing her as I ate. For whatever reason though, the vixen would pause what she was doing each time I took a sip from my water cup.

I mean honestly, she was confounding to no end.

As I went back to tending to my own plates, I found myself consuming the calories with increasing fervor. I had to admit; it was money well spent. The capers, cream cheese spread, and…

…hm.

I eyed the contents of the bagel hesitantly, mid-chew. Internally, I debated whether or not it was wise to question what little food I had and risk spoiling the moment.

My stomach brought me a quick answer the instant it detected a shortage of new food incoming, and I continued eating.

It was best not to think about where the fish in the bagel had come from anyway.

Aside from the water, I had yet to touch the caffeinated beverage that sat steaming on the far side of the table. With how my stomach had howled for nutrition, I'd been too focused to remember the drink.

In truth, my experiences with caffeine were limited at best, despite working closely with people who prepared them for a number of years. It wasn't that the option wasn't readily available; if anything, it was easily accessible and I'd been offered a cup multiple times. I just simply didn't see a reason to try it.

The circumstances back then were different though, and I needed something to put an ounce of pep back in my step. There weren't many options at my disposal, and considering how my body had been run ragged so quickly from the day prior, an added energy boost would be helpful insurance.

…and I'd be lying if I didn't say some part of me was curious.

After testing the cup so as to not scald myself, I took a cautionary sip.

Immediately my tongue recoiled from both the heat and bitterness. I'd been told coffee was a taste most gradually warmed up to, but for a first time? The saying had swiftly flown true. Beneath the warmth and raucous acidity, however, the faintest hint of richness sat underneath.

Once the overwhelming sensations had subsided, I thought to myself for a moment. I popped the lid off the cardboard cup and briefly blew the beverage before resting it on my lips again.

I took a second sip. The wave of bitterness still hit my tastebuds, although it wasn't as overwhelming as the first. A contemplative hum rumbled in my throat.

Another few sips later and I had already become acclimated to the heat, allowing for me to get a clearer grasp of the taste. If someone who commonly drank coffee had a try, they'd likely deem it a great brew.

I didn't care to drink too much more after a few more tries, as pacing myself out would yield better results. I set the coffee back down with a puff, glancing around the cafe.

Eventually, my eyes drifted along to a vacant area adjacent to the ordering counters. From the layout of the floorplan, it seemed to be a stage, as a majority of the seats could see the area across the restaurant. A couple of fresnel lights were hung from the ceiling and pointed towards the mesh of disconnected wires and microphone stands. However, most notably was the lone grand piano lying center stage, slick black frame twinkling in the sun.

'Quite the set-up for just a cafe. Nothing overly pompous, but still a surprisingly high-quality arrangement. Is there a band playing soon? A soloist, maybe?' I mused to myself.

With the thoughts rolling, I peered down the aisle with a pocketful of inquiries. Luckily, a waitress who had finished busing a table was beginning to walk down my row. I shifted myself to the aisle and leaned in slightly as she passed by.

"Excuse me. Ma'am?"

Jolting up from her notepad, the petite waitress swiveled around to find where she was being beckoned.

We locked eyes. "Can I have a moment?"

"Is something the matter?"

I waved off her slight worry. "No, nothing to be concerned over, just a bit of curiosity."

The waitress tried to poorly mask her relieved body language.

"It's about the stage," I addressed, "it looks pretty crowded. Any occasion?"

She blinked at me for a moment as though taken off guard. "Oh, that's for the- um, ten o' clock performance. Some local band, but I can't remember the name."

I clicked my tongue. "Ah, I see. I appreciate you giving me a moment of your time during this bustle though, I've never been through the village before."

It sounded as though she murmured something along the lines of "not like we'd forget someone like this" under her breath, but I wasn't going to jump to conclusions.

"It seems like a busy morning, so I promise I won't hold you much longer. Can you send the manager over this way? I just have a quick question."

And just like that, the waitress' tension came right back.

I guess some aspects of society stay consistent after all, especially the instinctual fear of a customer calling for the manager.

From the corner of my eye I spotted the same waitress meandering about, trying to occupy herself with as many tables as she could find. Eventually though she did reach an older woman in an apron with a unique name tag pinned to her lapel, having a brief exchange. By the time the elderly attendant crossed into our row, Fenway had cleared her entire plate. I waved her over, receiving an understanding nod in return.

Unlike her coworker, the senior before me had a more collected demeanor, a rosy smile leaning slightly against the booth.

"Hi, I'm Delanie! What can I do for you, hun?"

"Just someone with a bit too much curiosity for his own good, if you have time on your hands."

Delanie let out a genuine, hearty laugh. "You killin' me; as if I'd have freetime this early! Well, it's no worries, I wasn't doin' nothin' important anyhow." I guess she had secretly been hiding her nerves too, although I nearly missed it if not for a hidden roll of her shoulders.

I readjusted myself in my seat. "Well, I'm not the most familiar with Kalos, much less the businesses. How common are artists invited into the cafe?"

"Usually we have one or two every week I'd say! People love it, and boy do they really love themselves a tune from a friend of theirs. Everyone down here knows everyone, so keepin' it all local ain't much of a problem." She regaled.

"A few a week? That is impressive, especially if the turnouts are consistent." I praised. "Not every business can say the same."

Delanie raised a brow. "Ohhh, you perform too? Ain't that somethin'! I guess other regions don't appreciate the smaller things as well as Kalos does."

I responded with a sip of coffee and an acknowledging head bob.

"I hope you don't plan on tryin' to get under the lights in those rags though, I don't think anywhere worth their dirt would let that fly."

Setting the cardboard cup back down, I searched the woman's face. "What do you mean?"

"You tellin' me you weren't tryin' to get a reservation?"

"Mostly just curiosity like I'd said. I need a lay of the land before I try to schedule anything. Not to mention that I'm not necessarily staying for long."

"Ain't you a strange one," she chuckled. "What's your act?"

An amused puff left my nose. "Well, you're right with the first part. I'm more accustomed to a piano."

"I hear you, Maestro, I hear you. Surprised you're not behind the mic." Delanie rolled her eyes.

"Your sarcasm isn't lost on me, you know." I rounded, letting out a yawn. "A few times- only a select few I've done both. I promise you."

The older lady snickered for a moment to herself, skeptical side falling away. "Okay okay, I'll quit pullin' your leg hun. Whatchu you really gunnin' after?"

I nodded with a brief sigh.

"I was wondering if a journalist came through. Large polaroid around her neck, puffy curl in the back of her hair."

"Pah, I shoulda known! 'Course 'Long Blond Silver' would be in Alexa's entourage," Delanie exclaimed, smacking her forehead. "Came in last night lookin' like she was a lick away from rippin' out her scalp 'til she went bald. Bless her heart."

I shifted my tongue over in my mouth, stewing on the gossip. "Hmm."

"Usually she's always one for a good talk, but yesterday- whew. Y'all must'a really worn her out good if Alexa quit yappin'. She came by just a moment ago actually, hardly spoke a peep."

'…helluva poker face on that reporter. I'll look into that later.'

Satisfied, I brushed myself off and adjusted my posture. "Well, I appreciate the help ma'am, and I'll let you get along with work so you won't rip your hair out.. Hopefully a chat with the newsie won't be too much."

"As if she'd ever pass up a chance!" The senior waitress guffawed as she took the plates from the table.

A small grin tugged at the edge of my lips. Was everyone in this world always so open?

Fenway, perked her head up from resting it on the window, flicking her ears as the clasp of my bag latched shut. Delanie wore a sincere smile when the fennec raised up, rosy cheeks beaming as she stacked the rest of the silverware onto her tray and turned away.

With a short "Thank you for this." and a "No problem, baby!", the conversation with the cafe's crew came to a close.

Once Fenway had been returned to her pokeball (with a good amount of coaxing), I gathered my items and slid out the booth. A pit formed the closer I came to the double-doored exit. It wasn't hard to accept that my body didn't want to leave the comforting area.

Yes, I did have a full-night's sleep and a meal in my stomach after days without proper nutrition. In comparison to the shape my body had been in previously, it was practically an entirely new vessel. Hell, I felt like I just may be able to get to Lumiose without a hitch.

However, the relief only obscured reality.

Not three days ago, my body was in overdrive trying to repair itself, viciously clinging to life. It had done so for weeks on end; mending severed muscle, replenishing lost blood supply, and withstanding whatever the Pokemon Center's staff had pumped it with, all in an attempt to stay in one piece. Despite my body's best efforts to restore itself to what it once was, the healing still wrought severe drawbacks, mainly coming at the cost of anything not vital for survival.

I'd been left a mere shell of my former self. My torso had become downright gangly, and there was little left between skin and bone on some areas of my body. By no means had I been bulky beforehand, but once the aftermath began to set in, it was an entirely different story. Thanks to the efforts of the nurses I'd been able to restore some mass, but the damage was still alarmingly evident in areas. Simple tasks had become obstacles and even the tiniest movement caused some kind of recourse.

This is to say I haven't included the other damages from after I'd been discharged.

Regardless, I was running on fumes. A light gust may as well take me clean off my feet.

Part of me wished that all I had to do was just reach Looker in Lumiose. It dreamed of being holed up inside the rustic town, away from any other disastrous training sessions or feral wildlife searching for an easy target.

There were no worries inside, just the lingering musk of caffeine drifting about and the clatter of dishes being delivered to various tables. Tables, with upholstered seats that wouldn't have to be wrestled back into a bag too small to fit it.

Meals that wouldn't leave me dragging my feet after a few hours from malnutrition.

An environment where I wouldn't have to check over my shoulder out of fear that I may not walk away from another fateful encounter.

A place where I wouldn't have the opportunity to go back.

A rush of air streamed by while I shouldered through the doors. The difference in brightness had me blink away spots initially, but my sight eventually cleared to show the same rustic townscape.

Thumbing through my journal, I found myself running a list of locations that had caught my interest on the journey to the cafe.

The way I saw it, I'd be spending a majority of my day much like the previous ones; a frenzied rush of traveling without time to smell the roses. Until Calem's race had commenced, I was resigned to the village whether I liked it or not. Honestly, I hadn't fully planned to have so much time on my hands.

Of course, I had plenty to keep myself occupied with in the meantime, what with gathering information on the region and whatnot. I didn't have forever after all, just a handful of hours. But what I could do in those hours…

Well, I'll admit I felt a pinch giddy.

Perhaps Calem was right earlier. I had been spreading myself too thin, even for my own standards.

I rolled the thought over in my mouth.

"...Huh."

Once I began to feed the idea a bit of thought, clusters of details and questions I'd pushed away began to surface.

Calem's initial confusion when I told him we would arrive in Lumiose the day after we'd left.

The questioning doubt behind Shep's questions when I informed him of my intentions.

Alexa's misconceptions when I explained how we couldn't settle down yet.

Never once asking any of my traveling comrades for a means of contact.

I'd never bothered to take a moment to ask a question back aside from the others that were utterly dire, nor had I cared to explain myself further when I should have.

'How much had I let myself be blinded by haste over these past few days?'

The pen tapped against the pages of the journal, encircling the scribbled names. However, the booklet was soon shut again upon the realization my pockets were still dry.

Right.

'...I really wanted to visit that library.'

With a heavy-hearted sigh, the ballpoint pen was slid into the journal's holder.

Now to find Alexa-

"If you're going to do that the entire trip, I think I may want to sit next to Calem."

Speak of the devil.

"...how long have you been seated?"

"Long enough for the Wurmple in your hair to begin making that nest."

I quickly swiped at the top of my head only to be met with thin air. My eyes zipped from my bug-less palm to the woman seated beneath the shade of the outdoor umbrella tables, pathetically trying to repress laughter under a fit of snickering.

'Apparently I had missed Alexa as well amidst my haste. Hell, Norman- what else have you missed?'

"Honestly, I'm surprised my latte hasn't burst into flames with that look," she joked to herself. "Also, you're blocking the door."

I went to speak, but cut myself short when I glanced back through the double doors at a young couple who appeared to be partially aggravated. I swallowed the words I was about to say and allowed for the two to pass, earning a few disgruntled murmurs in return.

Turning back to Alexa, she brought the cup to her lips for a calm and collected sip, one eye trained in my direction.

"So, what has you so wound up?"

Blinking a few times with a brief rise of my eyebrows, I recomposed myself.

"I was actually going to look out for you-"

"Truly? Well, I'm flattered!"

"I… realized that I didn't have your contact."

"And you didn't try calling Calem for it?"

"..."

Alexa placed her cup back onto the coaster with a disappointed shake of her head. "Arceus above Norman-"

"I wasn't able to think properly last night, which is why I'm trying to ask you now."

"Ask away."

"I need you to do me a favor."

Alexa stalled for a moment, searching my features. "Alright, go ahead."

"Is your opinion of me really that-?" I sighed. "When your Gogoat struck me across the back, it left a few wounds I can't easily reach to treat. Unfortunately, there's a distinct lack of pokemon centers around, so I've had to do this myself. If you aren't busy, I'd like your help please."

I couldn't make out her expression from how far I was, but I imagined it was one that showcased her internal conflict.

"Well, I'm not really the best-"

"I'll lead you through it. You don't need to worry about any of that. As for materials, I think I may have enough."

Alexa sat quietly to herself, weighing her options once again. Then, she burst into a fit of laughter.

"Bahahahah-! I've never heard anyone try to get me into their room like that befo-"

"Alexa."

"-fore in my- what? Did I say something… Oh. Ohh… I'm- I'm sorry. You were serious-"

"No, no, I should've worded it a bit clearer. Sometimes I tend to be hard to read, I guess. Besides, I'm already out of time with my motel room, so we will have to make do with yours if you agree."

To my surprise, Alexa rose from her chair with a start, slinging her polaroid's neckstrap over her head. "Well, let's get to it!"

I blinked. "Oh. I didn't- uh, expect you to agree so quickly."

"I started that mess, didn't I? It would only be right if I did my best to fix it too." She beamed.

Although my stomach was awhirl with various negative emotions, I couldn't help but let a relieved "thanks" leave my lips.


As fate would have it, Alexa's motel was surprisingly close to the Opämde cafe. After maybe a few blocks of walking, we arrived at the doorstep of a… unique building.

Constructed from an older barn and silo, the main building was adorned with a weathered coat of cream paint and various flora cascading from window sills. Additional rooms had been built jutting from the western wall, two separate stories made from plaster and brick stacked atop one another. Although chipped in a few places, the aged finish seemed to only add to the charm. Surprisingly, it was in better condition than the motel I'd booked.

The journey so far had been dead silent, aside from the murmur of the occasional passerby and the creak of the door's hinges. Much like the exterior, the interior had a cream paint job and various paintings on the walls with the addition of a full kitchen set.

With a flick of the switch and one swift motion, Alexa had removed her shoes at the doorstep with one arm supported on the countertop.

"So, where did you wind up?" Alexa broke the silence, voice teetering at first.

"Hm? Oh." I briefly mumbled. "The Santalun- no, Santa-Lume Motel. Yeah, that place."

She chuckled. "This joint gets you more 'bang for your buck', y'know. The prices aren't bad. You should try staying for a night next time you come through."

"I can tell. It's nice."

I left the conversation hanging in the air after that. I didn't care to dawdle much with pleasantries at the moment, even if I did have more time than I knew what to do with.

Slinging my satchel onto a bed, I began to spread the remaining supplies I had to the adjacent nightstand. My feet pulsed beneath me while I squat beside the improvised station.

Emerald green eyes bore into my skull as my hands scattered bottles and pins across the wood. Every once in a while the sounds of liquid colliding with lips resounded from the same spot. Within a few minutes, the slurping had subsided, replaced by a deafening silence.

Usually, I'm not one to complain of awkward silences. I don't typically notice them and enjoy the quiet.

But this was too much, even for me.

"...I will warn you, this won't be a pleasant job. You can stop at any point." I stated as I missed the needle's hole for the seventh consecutive time.

Although I couldn't see her, I imagined Alexa hadn't expected for me to suddenly strike up a conversation by the brief rustle of her coat.

"It won't be a problem. I've seen my fair share as a journalist."

'She must not be expecting much worse than a simple wound to stitch.'

"Alright then. If you have any other materials as well that may help, feel free to use them." I halfheartedly replied. My suspenders and pokeball were placed on the opposite side of the bed.

Cautiously as I possibly could, I threaded the buttons back from my shirt and allowed the battered shirt to slough from my shoulders. The fabric didn't fall immediately however; the sweat from the trek over had caked onto the tatters.

I sat down on the bed, allowing for my posture to slump without agitating the back wound.

When I noticed a number of minutes had passed and no sound was made, a sigh was expelled.

"Take all the time you need." I breathed, trying to not sound condescending.

A few more beats passed until the floorboards finally told of feet crossing the distance. The steps were almost rhythmic as they plod against the boards, creeks of the mattress alerting me of the transition from surface to surface.

While I still didn't wish for this to be happening in the first place, I found myself wrestling of sorts with the urge to collapse against the sheets of the bed. Not out of drowsiness though; instead, it was like my body wanted to release all of the tension it had stored for days. Every knot, every strain- it would all be gone if I simply fell forward.

Well, I knew better of course. Physiology didn't work like that.

In truth, I was more astonished by the steady pulse of my heart reverberating throughout my chest; the seed of worry planted inside that that demon of a pokemon was nearby. Despite these nerves making my heart race, an opposing seed had also been buried at some point- the faint hope I would be able to relax in such an environment. I couldn't fathom where it had come from or why it was there, but it was certainly there regardless.

In some sense, I suppose I was thankful I had an environment where I could let the curtain drop without having to hide myself away from the world.

I blinked a few times as my eyebrows fell and allowed my jaw to simply hang where it was. A large exhale came to pass as well, my fingers wrapping around dry washcloths I'd taken from the motel.

"If you're ready, then go ahead and put the rest of the rubbing alcohol on this. I don't have any spare gauze pads. For now, try lightly dabbing it along the open sections. Just- before you apply it, please give me a warning." I instructed, craning my arm backwards to offer the cloth.

My advice must've woken Alexa from her daze as she replied, "I-... I know. I'll do my best to be gentle."

I chewed over for a moment whether I wanted to voice the thought that had popped into my mind.

"You don't have to feel bad about your reaction, you know."

The rustle of cloth paused for a second. The mattress behind me groaned for a moment; she must've shifted her weight. The Kecleon Kaper seemed like she wanted to speak her mind as well, but couldn't find the words.

"I'm asking a lot of you to do this. I do realize. And I don't intend on being petty about the Gogoat incident. It was a misunderstanding."

At the mention of Gogoat, Alexa was the one to let out a constricted breath. It was faint, but audible.

"Who are you?"

My eyebrows shot upwards, but slowly fell again. I made to give an answer, but before I could Alexa had already begun again.

"The moment I think I- I think I start to get who you are Norman, it's like you rip the ground from under me. It's frustrating," admitted the reporter. "Sure, I have a few misconceptions here or there about people. Before I met you, I'd never had an issue reading a person. But you? I just- there isn't a single person even like you."

"Believe me when I say there is a reason for that."

Alexa seemed to take note of my comment before continuing. "Even if that's true, it should hardly be possible for someone to be so… so-" she sputtered, thinking of how to word it. "-so painfully average yet, yet at the same time any farther from normal."

I looked up from the floor, brows slightly scrunched.

"I can't make any sense of it. None of your actions seem to line up either- half of the time you only focus on running to the next task on your list, but the instant you're able to take a moment to catch your breath, you look like you've just seen these places for the first time. You act like you'll die if you don't get to Lumiose in the next few hours. Battling-wise, you can stand off against Gogoat and give Calem a run for his money, yet you act like you've never seen a pokemon in your life."

"Don't think I haven't noticed how you act around Calem and I, either. Every time we see you, you somehow manage to look worse than the last time. Every instinct I have tells me that I shouldn't speak a word to someone who's clearly trouble, but it's the complete opposite. You've- you've shown restraint and humility- hell, even when you look like you're hardly on your feet, there isn't a single complaint."

"Ever since Gogoat went berserk, I've wanted to repay you somehow. I wanted to show you the guilt that clawed at my stomach each time your hand twitched when I raised my voice. I-... It was an awful assumption to make, honestly. And every sign you've given me to back off, well, you don't have to worry because I've gotten them all. I just hoped-"

She paused.

"You made it clear you wanted to be left alone in your decisions this entire time, and then you come and ask me to-" she presumably waved her hands at the desk, "do this. I can see how you may not have wanted for Calem to see you like this, but you were calm about asking, it… well, to be honest it threw me for a loop."

I guess I had been quite upfront with my request.

"Look, I know this all sudden, and you're not the fondest of me, but I need you to tell me what you want. I mean- just, can you be transparent with me, even if just for a moment?"

Ah. That's what she is trying to get at.

"...if I'm going to do so, I want you to be honest with me, first."

"W-what?"

I shuffled myself around to face her, allowing for her eyes to inspect my every feature.

"In all the time I've spent with both you and Calem, not once have I told you a lie. Of course, I've fed into some details more than others, yes. However, I would like to mention, though, that everyone has at least one aspect of themselves they keep from other's ears. It's not really a sin- it's simply no one else's business." I claimed, allowing the idea to roll off my tongue as though common knowledge.

"I'm more than willing to answer most questions. If anything, talking with others is usually quite nice. If I'm going to fill in a few gaps though, I first want to know where they're coming from."

I leaned forward, staring her dead in the eye. "I want to know why you're so interested in my past."

It was only for a second.

Just one second.

But it was there.

Alexa's breathing had hitched for just one second.

It was for less than a second, but I had caught the minute fact that her chest very briefly paused the instant I'd made my demand.

It's true.

She did have an interest in who I was aside from curiosity.

I let a small snort leave my nose. "It's alright, really."

Alexa was silent.

"Alexa, it's in your nature to be curious, including about a person's motives. The only reason you can't predict me- it's…" I trailed.

Well, there wasn't much I could follow up with. There was no definitive reason as to why she couldn't understand, other than that I hadn't left any hints. But say so- it would be pointless since she already knew the obvious. Alexa was an experienced reporter, for crying out loud. The woman was smart.

So I did what I always did.

"I don't know."

I told the truth.

"I don't know why. It doesn't make sense to me either. Very little does anymore, which... is something I've discovered recently."

I said the plain truth, all that I could feel.

"Maybe it's because you attempted to be secretive about it. Who knows."

A shrug went through my shoulders.

"To your credit, I can't even tell you how I developed the idea. Perhaps it was because of how you considered it; burying the reason like a shameful truth rather than accepting it, as though your brain labeled it an evil."

"As to why? I mean- I can't say. I'm just an ordinary man, not a psychic. I guess… by the same logic, it could be said you two should have picked by now what I'm doing. But I don't consider my reasoning to be wrong in any way, which may explain the difference between us. The only reason I don't say is because- it would just make things harder for everyone I come across. What I need to do- it's not easy, nor safe. It's dangerous, and helps no one but myself if I succeed. It is quite literally pointless for you in every way."

I let out a deep exhale.

"It's not a matter of semantics, either. I'm not saying it to seem heroic, or virtuous. Nor is it for wrongful means. I just have a simple desire. Of course I'm receiving help in the matter because I realize it's too large for me to deal with on my own, but-"

Words in my mouth pushed against my jaw, but none seemed to be the right fit. The thought was simply left to fall from my lips once again.

"There is no "but". Honestly, you don't need to tell me your reasoning, Alexa. It won't matter much to me. It doesn't because it's not my reason to concern myself over. Think about it this way: the option is always on the table, but you are the one to make the choice to reveal your hand."

Unable to tolerate the sight before my eyes, my torso was wrenched back around to face the adjacent sheets. A hand draped across weary lids, softly rubbing away the flurry of unknown emotions from my face. My jaw hung limp and tongue at rest. There was no use for it by then.

But where did the speech come from?

I harbored no hatred for Alexa. She had spoken her peace, and not once did I ever find her to be deceiving or manipulative. Each word that had graced ears came from a place of genuine feeling, not deviation. Intentions, well, I had made my stance on the matter clear on that too. Hell, the lingering memory of the star reporter's travels with Ash echoed through my mind each time I saw the polaroid slung around her neck.

Despite all that I had already known about her, the haunting voice demanding to keep a close eye on my every move was still present. I knew I had nothing to fear, nothing to hide, but it didn't seem to register on the inside. It all continued to drain into the bottle,

There was such a cacophony of emotions crammed into the bottle though, I was on borrowed time before the pressure would cause cracks. With cracks, comes fissures. With fissures, comes problems.

I had enough problems.

Detecting a distinct lack of movement from behind me, I let my head lul downward.

I had dropped quite the trove of info on Alexa, after all. No need to be impatient.

I'd been impatient enough with her as it was.

The black gunk clogging my heart was difficult enough to deal with as my own words from before swirled in my head.

'I am not asking for you or I.'

'I hope you both will soon as well; it's been an... admittedly a long day for everyone. I'll be outside the Rhyhorn course at nine tomorrow.'

'I don't necessarily trust your word all too much.'

It was about time I quit giving this woman a hard time.

"I don't hold it against you, Alexa."

No response, but a slight movement. I was unable to distinguish anything more though.

"Gogoat acted without your orders and to hold you accountable is unfair. I'm- I'm sorry."

And thus, a tiny piece of the black ooze chipped away. It didn't solve everything or amount to much, but the fact it came off nonetheless-

It felt like I was allowed to use my lungs again.

A faint chuckle came from the opposite bedside.

"I don't get you, Norman. I'm not sure I ever will."

There wasn't an ounce of uncertainty or annoyance in her voice.


This chapter will absolutely have plenty of revisions in the future.

As of this chapter's release, I'll be working on revising Chapters 5 & 6 too. A lot.

Also, I'm experimenting with a new writing style and would love to hear your feedback on the chapter. Oh yeah, follow as well if you haven't already. It honestly helps a load to stay motivated to keep the story going. Thank you to all of you who read this as well, your support means the world!

Until next time, homies.