Hyla stood guarded, carefully attempting to predict an attack from an enemy she could not see.

Well, not being able to see was a given. She had never been able to see very clearly, for as long as she could remember. Even before her fur grew long enough to constantly cover her eyes, her eyesight had been poor.

With that, however, came other sensations and feelings that were enhanced to make up for her lack of sight. Her ear twitched as she heard a rustling not too far from her left. To her right, a sharp snap rang. The far off cries of other creatures in the far distance registered faintly. Though smell wasn't of much use now, the damp aroma of wilderness filled her nostrils as she dug herself deeper into the ground beneath her in a crouch.

She heard Him breathing too. His breaths were short—frantic, nervous. It pained her to hear him so distressed, even more so that it was partly due to her. He had been clearly stressed in recent times, his sleep often restless and his fatigue evident in his steps. Such only served to deepen her worry for Him.

That worry renewed her desire to succeed for his sake, and she sharpened her focus to the task at hand. Though she was hardly feeling her best, she would not let him down. Not when he needed her. She willed her hearing to pick up everything it possibly could. From the most quiet of steps, and shallowest of breaths.

She heard it. It had come from her right, where she heard the snap, a bit farther to her front-facing side. "Dodge right!" He called. She willed her aching body to dive to her right, and as her body flipped onto the ground, she felt the wind and trajectory of the projectile whizz by her as it almost made contact. She was grateful for her instincts at that moment. The bruises lining her body were already more than what she was willing to take.

She wasn't done yet. She immediately returned to her crouched position, once again looking to hear any indication of where the next attack would come from. From her front-facing side, another snap. Her opponent must have been circling her slowly, looking for an angle to get her from. "Watch your front!" He called out in warning. She took the affirmative and took a cautious few steps backward, creating some distance.

Another snap from her front. She was certain—her opponent was there. All there was to do now was wait and dodge. Her legs tensed as she prepared to evade what was sure to come.

A third snap, and Hyla heard the command. "Dodge left!" No sooner did the words leave his mouth did she spring into movement, diving to her left. This time, however, she felt no tailing wind, or anything graze her. He confirmed her unease when He spoke aloud once more. "Shit!"

She was already bracing herself, though that didn't make it sting any less. A sharp object made contact with her lower left flank, and she hissed in pain as she rolled too late. She had no idea what it was she was being hit with, but what it lacked in size it more than made up for in speed of impact. As pain flooded her body once more, this particular shot proved to be too much for her. With a groan, she fell to her side, huffing and puffing as she fought to stay awake.

Cassius cursed aloud. "Damn it!" He'd been late, for what felt like the millionth time. He thought he'd finally be able to get a beat on where the projectiles were coming from. He'd sensed a pattern with sound, and he figured Hyla had too. They'd used it against him that time, making a loud sound to bait them into a premature dodge while they relocated and sniped them from somewhere else.

Hop stepped forward and made a calming gesture with his hands. "Relax, man. Getting angry is only gonna make your judgment worse." His Grookey swung from a tree branch and landed on his trainer's shoulder, toting a few rocks in the tuft of hair atop his head.

The Galar native gave Hyla a look. "What's say we take five, yeah? Give Hyla a potion and calm down a little. We'll go over the exercise again once you're healed and ready." Cassius didn't respond, glaring at the ground lost in thought. Hop put a hand on his shoulder. "Cassius, you good?"

His attention returned to Hop, but the anger didn't dissipate. "I'm fine," he said curtly. "A break sounds good." Without another word, he jogged over to Hyla, procured a potion, and got to work healing her.

This had been the routine for the past three days—him messing up, and Hyla paying the price. Though it had been Hop's insistence in pushing the envelope with their dive into processing training, Cassius wasn't blameless in acquiescing. How hard could it be? You just had to move out of the way. It seemed simple enough, in theory.

As it turned out, there was a lot more that went into than simple ducking and dodging. For one, Cassius and Hyla had vastly underestimated the speed at which Pokémon-produced projectiles traveled. Grookey wasn't even using an established move; it was smacking tiny rocks in Hyla's direction with the stick in its head, like it was playing baseball. Even so, they traveled at such a speed that it only gave him less than a second to give out an order. And even less time for Hyla to execute the order.

Hop had been upfront about what they had been getting into when they had first started. "Full disclosure—it's gonna be tough sledding your first few days. It varies from person to person, but getting your reactions up from a regular person's to an average trainer's is a tough process. And it gets harder, especially once we graduate into speedy projectile moves like Bullet Seed, and priority moves like Quick Attack. In some instances during a battle, the option of dodging won't even be an avenue available to you. It'll be about knowing enough about your Pokémon to mitigate the damage they receive."

"With that in mind, you'll want to dodge obvious attacks that can be easily punished as often as you can. Though, there is an extreme to that way of thinking. Dodge too much, and your Pokémon will be too tired to execute any moves in kind. A smart trainer will know how to balance the number of attacks their Pokémon can take, and the number they can dodge effectively."

That ratio varied for each Pokémon, Hop had expounded upon, so another aspect of their training was to see how often Hyla could dodge within specific time frames. However, Hyla's stamina was still a work in progress, so she hadn't been able to score very many dodges Hop would call clean regardless of how long or how short their sessions were. Their endurance training would work to fix that shortcoming, but in the short-term, Hyla was struggling.

Cassius knew that positive results wouldn't be immediate. He was dipping his toes in the water for the first time, and expecting to swim out the gate would make the process heaps harder than it had to be. Still, they were under a time crunch, and seeing Hyla bruised and beat up from their training was as disheartening as it was infuriating.

Naturally, as he was lost in the malaise of his own failure, he had apparently missed Gloria entering the clearing. "Well, this looks to be goin' swimmingly. You turn him into a champion yet?"

Hop looked like he'd been lost in thought too, if the slight jump he exhibited in response to her sudden introduction was any indication. "Oh, Gloria. It's goin' as well as it can at present. No one ever gets it right their first couple times."

"Somethin' tells me we're well beyond the first couple times," her gaze landed back on Cassius. "Reckon he'll run outta potions, at the rate he's goin'."

"Gloria, not now." Hop warned. "He's not in the mood. I'm not either."

"Good. Lemme make sure you both get the point then." She ambled over to him, hands resting atop her head. "Oi, dipshit. Any progress, or are ya wastin' Hop's time by not learnin' anythin'?"

The look Cassius gave Gloria would have almost been intimidating, were it from someone she gave a damn about. "Shut up, Gloria. Leave me alone."

"Poor baby," Gloria cooed sarcastically. "Almost feel kinda bad for your 'Mon. Tough as shit, that one, but has to labor for a trainer that's more gimp than dick. Figured ya'd be better off releasin' her."

Cassius stood up, fists clenched. "I said shut up." Gloria was unflinching, not so much as blinking as the distance between them closed. "Or what? Gonna scrap?"

"Maybe."

"Go ahead. I'm down for a tussle," her eyes fell onto Hyla. "Though, from what I've seen, you'd have as much luck with your fists as you would trainin'."

"Let's see you train then," Cassius growled.

"Maybe. But then we'd be wastin' Hop's time and mine."

That was enough to drive Cassius past the brink. His eyes narrowed, and in a flash, he dug his hands into Gloria's shirt, intending to slam her to the ground. He never got that far—a searing pain slammed into his left cheek, staggering him back and forcing him to release his hold. Gloria's enclosed fist fell back to her side, and she wore the most annoying grin Cassius had ever seen anyone direct at him. "Arceus, you're such a bitch."

Cassius charged again, but Hop finally intervened, physically separating the two as he wedged himself between them. "That's enough! Both of you are gonna stop this, now."

"Do you get it now?" Gloria continued, uncaring for Hop's warning. "This was never gonna be some stroll in the park. People've been trainin' at this for years, and plenty still can't even get good enough to receive an endorsement from lesser gym leaders. What made you think half-assin' it would ever get you up to snuff?"

"I'm not half-assing anything!" Cassius spat back. "I've done what you've asked of me since we started this entire thing. I've studied the material, done the drills, and gone through the training! What more do you want from me?"

"To give a damn, moron. You do what Hop asks of you like some trained pet, but you don't do it for the sake of improving." Her eyes narrowed. "You do it 'cause somebody told you to. Obeying like some good little boy who wants praise for the bare minimum. It's pathetic."

Cassius would have charged a third time if Hop's hold wasn't as strong as it was. The other teen's silence was curious—his expression was a mix of shock and fatigue. The former likely due to the pure hostility from Gloria, the latter from all he'd done to prevent this very confrontation from happening in the first place.

"Why don't you give me some advice then, instead of being an asshole all of the time?" Cassius shouted. "All you've done since we started this entire thing is mock me for even trying to get better. Maybe I'd be further along if you stopped gloating to help me!"

"You still don't get it. This isn't some class in school. Teaching alone won't make you a good trainer. Practicing what you learn on your own will." Gloria still refused to hold back. "And until I start seeing you stop treatin' this like a checklist and more like actual trainin', I'm gonna keep treatin' you like a schoolboy playin' pretend."

It was a miracle she didn't actually spit at him. "But I wouldn't wager that happenin'. You're an insult to actual trainers everywhere. No amount of bare minimum trainin'll change that."

Cassius had fallen silent. Hop switched his gaze onto him, preparing to full-on tackle him if it came to it. He couldn't stop the verbal exchange, but he could at the very least prevent it from getting physical. Enough damage had been done for one day.

The Unovan did move eventually—in the opposite direction, out of Hop's grasp. He'd had enough, apparently, and was storming back in the direction of their temporary camp. He recalled Hyla back into her ball, and disappeared into the woods.

A moment passed after he faded from view before Hop rounded on Gloria. "What is your problem?" He hissed, not the least bit pleased.

"I'd prefer to ask what yours is," Gloria retorted. "You're as much at fault, too. Stringin' him along with some false promise of marginal progress. Is this primary, or are we adults, Hop?"

"You don't know that he isn't progressing."

"No, I do know. And I thought you did, too." The girl turned her ire to her longtime friend. "Hop, your brother is the champion. You saw firsthand the work he had to put in. Does anything you have the runt doin' come anywhere close to what Lee did when he first set out?"

"No, but it doesn't have to be!" Hop countered, upset. "We've gone over this—there is no one way to get stronger! People grow at different rates. People change, Gloria!"

It was Hop's turn to vent. "I get it, he's weak. He isn't very strong, and we may be spinning our tires. But that's no excuse to give up and not even try. You're letting your disdain for his situation—which was born from a series of events completely out of his control—affect how you view him personally."

Hop took a step forward. "You need to grow up. This trip isn't gonna go the exact way you want it to. We're not gonna steamroll our way through everybody with no obstacles, just you and me, everybody else be damned. Getting upset over that, and taking it out on Cassius, makes you more immature than he is."

Hop tensed. He hadn't meant to blurt out that last part. Well, the sentiment was intended, but calling her immature hadn't been the idea. Gloria, defiant and brazen as she often was, was very smart. So much so she liked to think of herself as the adult in any room she stepped into.

So, naturally, she didn't take very kindly to being called immature. "Oh, so it's my fault now?"

"I never said it was—"

"If I'm immature, you're a liar. You know well and proper how much work Lee put into becoming champion. This little runaround you're havin' yourself do with the muppet doesn't do anythin' for him, and makes you fall behind on actual trainin'." The look in her eyes could have killed. "So tell me, whose fault d'ya think that is?"

"I..." Hop struggled with what to say. Sure, they weren't training like pros. But Cassius was new! He'd drain himself and lose any semblance of motivation or confidence if they went all-out from the start. Could she really blame him? "... I wanted to see for myself."

"See what?"

"If he was really invested. If he was really going to put in the time and the work. Before I had him do anything... serious." Hop found the nerve to push back. "To that end, he was showing progress. He still did everything I asked, even if he was a little unwilling."

"You're selling him a fake reality and you know it." Gloria shot. "D'ya think he knows that it gets harder? That he has to learn from failure, and then keep failing? That this is a sport designed to weed out the weak, timid, and untalented?"

Hop was silent. Gloria kept going. "When would you have told him? After the ceremony? After he lost his first battle? After he gets embarrassed in front of millions in his first gym fight? By that point, it'd be too late, and all the work and time you'd have put in would have amounted to exactly nothing."

All this talking made her throat hurt. Whatever—she was too pissed to care. If Hop wasn't gonna quit playin' make-believe, then as his friend, she had a duty to show him the reality of things. Something she'd thought he was already aware of.

"I don't wanna see you fail, Hop. Call me selfish, call me a bitch, but I don't wanna see you sacrificin' your chance at winnin' for a lost cause like him. I don't like him, and maybe that isn't fair to him—but he doesn't care like you and I, and if he never will, then why should I give a damn about him? So it's either you and him stop playin' pretend and take this seriously, or you both fail, and Lee becomes a laughingstock." She started walking away, to Arceus knew where. She wanted to be alone.

But not before one last word. "And, quite honestly, if you're so intent on wastin' your time, then I'd prefer you didn't waste mine either." And she was gone.

Hop was out of things to say. Not that it mattered at this point—no amount of words would have fixed this mess. His hope for a cordial relationship between Gloria and Cassius was up in smoke, Cassius had no reason to keep going anymore, and Gloria probably hated him. Hard to imagine it getting much worse, beyond the planet exploding.

He sighed. What would Lee do? His knowledge, his charisma—he had it all. A problem like this would be a cinch to fix for him, probably. And he'd do it with a smile.

Hop reflexively looked behind him, as he'd done so often in his youth when he had something he needed to ask his dear brother. He half-expected him to be there, a word of encouragement ready for him.

Reality was not so kind—Hop was met with an empty space of grass. A reminder that he was alone.

Cassius wished he was in his bed. The one he had back in Unova, specifically. It was where he had always gone to clear his head, and gather his thoughts. Cry, on rare occasions.

He was far from that now. He'd had to settle for his filthy sleeping bag, which had been subject to days of his stench from working outdoors. He hadn't showered in what felt like forever, he realized. He could use one of those, too. For now, he was forced to settle for the unaccommodating earth upon which his smelly sleeping bag rested upon.

That feeling of discomfort was only compounded by the misery of failure permeating throughout his core. He'd tried so hard, and in Gloria's eyes, it amounted to essentially nothing. He liked to think his negativity was understandable. Anyone would be upset if someone told them that their effort in anything was meaningless. In that sense, was Gloria in the wrong?

He would have loved to say yes, without any reservation. Her words kept echoing in his head, however. A checklist, she'd called his effort. Like he was out ticking boxes on a grocery run.

How did she know how to gauge his effort? He'd been grinding toward whatever goal Hop gave him to what he believed was the best of his abilities. The soreness throughout his body was proof enough of that. Hyla had it even worse—she'd been beaten up, forced into faint from overexertion, and plenty more. Gloria hadn't even bothered bearing witness to their toiling.

Still, it gnawed at him. Cassius couldn't lie to himself. He'd never put one-hundred percent into anything before. How could he know whether he was truly giving this his all?

Cassius thought back to his childhood. Seeing the other children his age playing and training around Route 12. Every day, without fail, they'd sprinted from school or whatever obligation they had to spend all of their free time improving their craft. Cassius remembered calling it a waste of time, in his opinion. But to them, those other children, they must have honestly believed in their work, effort and commitment. Was that what it meant to give one's all to something? To keep working and struggling, despite knowing the end result might not have been what you wanted? In that sense, Cassius was sorely lacking in dedication.

He sighed. He was getting too far into his own head. As much as he would have liked to mope around and do nothing, he wasn't going to figure out what to do next if he elected to go that route. But what was there to do? Gloria would probably punch him the next time she saw him (again—that dainty figure of hers had some strength behind it), and going off of how Hop looked during the entire altercation, it was clear he had some things he was probably thinking about too.

It was a waste thinking about it any further. There was only one person he could go to for help in this situation. Picking up his phone, he tapped on his contacts, picked a name, and waited for them to pick up.

It was barely a second before they picked up. "Cassius?"

"Hey, mom," the young man answered, trying his best to mask the lack of energy in his voice. "Is now a bad time?"

"No, no! I was about to start dinner, but it can wait." Lila Hargreaves' voice lowered in volume as she moved away from her phone's speaker. "Will! Cassius called, get down here!" She put the call on speaker. "Are you alright? What's happening?"

"Nothing's happening," Cassius lied. "I just wanted to check in with you guys. I forgot to call after the first day, so I figured why not do it now?"

"Honey, please, don't waste your time worrying about us. You have enough on your plate already." Her husband settled down beside her, offering a greeting of his own as he did. Lila continued speaking. "So, what did you want to check on?"

Cassius didn't realize how much he missed his parents' voices. "Just what you've been up to, I guess. How's the house?"

"Better. We're mostly settled in. I'm not used to cooking for only two of us, though." Cassius could use his mom's cooking right about now, too. Lila continued. "Your dad's job is going well. He likes it a lot. Tell him, dear."

What else was there to say? Lila was nervous, that much was obvious. For the sake of appeasing her, William parroted her sentiment. "Yeah, it's good. Good men over there."

"Good. That's cool," Cassius agreed neutrally. At least his parents were alright.

They fell quiet for a moment. Cassius knew what he had to ask them. All of his earlier nerve seemed to be leaving him now that he had them on the phone, however. What was he supposed to say? Did he admit that he was struggling? That he wasn't making friends, having fun, or discovering some unknown talent he didn't know he had? What could they even do if he were to admit all of that to them?

His grandmother had been a trainer. Maybe if he asked his mom, she'd have some pointers to give him. Like some kind of old family secret passed down from his mother's ancestry. It was doubtful, but it was worth a shot.

Before he could actually work up the nerve to ask, his father cut in. "So, I guess there's no beating around it. How's the journey?"

Cassius hadn't actually thought about what he'd say if they had asked him that—which was stupid in retrospect, since they obviously would be curious. His mother didn't seem to be on the same page, however, as Cassius heard her lightly slap her husband's shoulder through the phone. "Will! We can't ask him that! It's only if he wants to talk about it first!"

William was confused. "Is that not why he called?"

"Maybe, but we don't know that!"

Cassius should have known his dad would have seen right through him. His mom probably did too, but she was likely just being courteous about it. Figures.

"It's... going," Cassius offered, mustering all the gusto he could. "Hasn't been very easy. I've had to pick up a lot. I'm learning, though." Nothing about what he said was technically a lie.

"That's great!" His mother exclaimed. "I'm glad you're alright. I've been so nervous—I'm not sure if you already know this, but you're all over the news."

Oh. He had somehow managed to forget about that. "Is it bad?"

"More weird than bad," his father answered. "The conspiracy theories are a bit... much. You're not a secret industry plant originally hailing from a lineage of legendary Kanto trainers, are you?"

They were saying that? That was even weirder than the few headlines he'd read back on the train. "Don't think so."

"That's good. If you were, I would have had to have a really awkward conversation with your mom." Another slap through the phone. "William! I would never!"

That actually made Cassius smile. For the first time in weeks, it felt like. He felt a lot more comfortable about what he was going to have to ask them now.

He took a breath. "All kidding aside, I did mean to call for some help. I was wondering if you two could give me any... advice, I guess."

"Advice?" His mother asked. "About what? Training?"

"Yeah."

Lila was silent for a moment. "Well... I'm sorry, dear. Your grandmother used to train me and give me tips back when I was much younger. She wanted me to be a trainer, but I never got into it. I can't remember any of her advice for the life of me. Your dad's never trained, either. I don't think there's anything worthwhile we could tell you."

Yeah, Cassius assumed as much. It was wishful thinking to begin with. "That's alright. Thanks for trying, anyway."

"But don't worry! We're still looking for a way to get you out of this mess," his mother was quick to reassure him. "We haven't turned up anything yet, but we've been searching around."

"Oh," Cassius audibly deflated, before freezing at his own actions. He narrowed his eyes. Where had that come from? Further still, another odd sensation was pooling within his stomach. He recognized it quickly—disappointment.

He'd aimed to hit up his parents and see if they could provide him with any advice, but he hadn't considered that they'd be still looking for a way to have him escape the situation entirely. Apparently, they'd been trying their best well after he had officially departed. He should have been thankful—they hadn't let him suffer to a fate that might have proven detrimental to him.

Yet, the feeling permeating throughout him said otherwise. Here he had been, giving what he thought had been his all to his new goal, bestowed to him by Hop—become a trainer that people would believe to be a top rookie, endorsed by the champion. He'd agreed on a whim, some strange feeling he'd acquiesced to back when he'd first accepted the journey at Gloria's house. He still hadn't pinned down what that motivation was, but it pushed him all the same. If his parents found a means of getting him out of this, he'd be actively going against that gut feeling. And, for some unfathomable reason, the thought of giving up now, despite his lack of improvement, irked him.

He thought about why that was. If he gave up now, he'd be letting Hop down. Cassius liked to think that Hop's attempts at friendship were just him trying to save face for forcing him into the role, but Hop genuinely meant well. Letting him down wasn't exactly appealing.

More than that, however, he'd be proving Gloria right. When the going got tough, and he was faced with adversity, he'd be giving up. Just like Gloria probably imagined he would. He'd be justifying every single time she'd ever called him pathetic.

Did he actually want to succeed? Had he fallen so into his own delusions that he kept going for a reason as simple as appeasing Hop or proving Gloria wrong? Better yet, what did that say about him? He was going in circles thinking about it.

Though his mother sat at their new house a great distance away, she could sense the conflict brewing in her son. "Cassius, are you alright?"

"Yeah," he replied automatically. He obviously wasn't. "Just... thinking."

That belied a larger problem, in Lila's mind. She knew her son well, and had been fortunate enough to enjoy an open, honest and loving relationship with her only child. With that in mind, she knew him to be the brooding type—he'd been that way since he was a toddler. Quiet, reserved, preferring to keep to himself. His thoughts included.

But he was fine the way he was. Her perfect little boy, so kind and gentle. So caring as to even be able to befriend a notoriously difficult species of Pokémon. Yes, friends had been hard to come by for him. He'd suffered from almost chronic bouts of loneliness as a child, and had still grown up to be a fine young man. That spoke to his resiliency, strength of mind, and modest appreciation for all he had been given. What more could a parent ask of their child?

And yet... Lila knew she wasn't being honest with herself. She'd never pushed him to take that risk children typically took; of putting himself out there and trying something new. Of making a friend. Of immersing himself in a new hobby. Because he'd been fine the way he was. And because she'd seen what those risks grew into, especially as people got older, and the risks turned larger in scale, and in repercussion.

If Lila Hargreaves had to guess—and she liked to think she knew her son well—he was warring with that idea of risk. That idea he'd been so hesitant to indulge in. Something she herself had reinforced, unknowingly or not.

"Cassius," her voice was gentle but firm. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"

"Lila?" William didn't know where that came from. Her husband would have to be patient and wait for an explanation later. She was focused on garnering their son's attention, which she succeeded in doing. "I... honestly, I don't know," he replied after another brief bout of silent thought. "I know it's dumb, and I know it's really risky, but..." he trailed off. "There's just something about it. I don't know."

She could almost feel how uncertain he was. Scared, too. She couldn't blame him. He'd been so eager to drop out of the challenge not too long ago, and to rid himself of the whole thing. Now he was thinking about staying, and he didn't know why. Anyone would have been scared.

Lila couldn't offer substantial advice. Not really, anyway. She had never cared for battling. As such, there was only one thing she could do in a situation like this. Even if it went against everything she had ever stood for as a parent before.

"Cassius," she started. "I... I want you to know what you're getting into. Before you really commit. I don't know if this will change how you look at battling, but... I think it's something you need to hear." Cassius perked up from his side of the call, attentive. Whatever it was his mother was about to tell him, it was deadly serious.

Lila took a breath, and spoke. "Your grandmother always loved battling. She'd started studying and undergoing training on her own when she was only five years old. She left for a journey first thing when she turned 12, back when that was still the universal minimum age for trainers."

"When I was little, she regaled me with stories of when she traveled across her home region of Johto, just battling and living off of the land. She liked the people and adventures more so than the actual battling, so she never spent too much time in one place. She was a Pokémon nomad, without a doubt."

She smiled ruefully. "Though she'd never admit it out loud, she was never a generational trainer in her peak. She was good, far better than the average trainer. But, when it comes to battling, pretty good isn't enough most of the time. She made it fairly deep into the Johto League, but she never managed a seventh gym badge, much less a trip to Indigo Plateau."

Cassius was deep in thought as he listened. He'd never heard much of his grandmother's life before. He'd been adolescent near the tail end of her life—she'd never told him anything about her past, beyond her status as a trainer. This was all new information to him.

"When it comes to making money as a trainer, there are only three avenues of actual, sustainable profit. Paid promotional bouts—basically, any televised fight—endorsements, and tutoring. My mom made a good amount from matches on TV, but when she plateaued near the end of her prime, so did her income. Endorsement companies are hesitant to pay money to trainers who aren't either established superstars, or are prodigious talents on their way to becoming superstars. And for tutoring, well, who'd pay big money to learn from a trainer who didn't even get to face the Elite Four?"

Her smile fell. "Things only got harder when I was born. The father never stuck around, so my mom had to work multiple jobs to support herself and me. She never got any formal education past middle school, so you can imagine how hard it was for her to find consistent work. If it weren't for the advent of Johto's Ranger Corp, we'd be much worse off."

She'd rambled for long enough. "Cassius, the point I'm making is that the world of battling is unforgiving and harsh. Just like there's no place for an average athlete, there's no place for an average trainer. I know you've probably heard this multiple times already, but this sport is designed to prop up only the absolute best of the best. Everyone else is just a stepping stone."

Cassius had heard that line plenty of times already. That didn't make it any less poignant.

"I..." his mother hesitated briefly. "I've seen what this sport does to people. Your grandmother liked to say otherwise, but battling almost broke her. She gave so much time and effort to it—it was all she ever wanted to do. And in return, battling gave her the bare minimum in terms of success, and a fake delusion that maybe she could be just good enough to make it big time. That's how the sport reels you in. With the promise of just a little more work, and one more win, that you could be the next best trainer the world has ever seen."

William placed a hand on his wife's shoulder. She was laboring slightly—she never enjoyed talking about her mother, and everything they'd had to go through. Making to hold his hand with a quick "thank you," she did her best to compose herself and still her quivering voice. "Cassius, I love you more than anything. I wouldn't wish what my mother had to go through on anyone, much less my own child. But that is the risk you take when you want to be a trainer. The risk anyone takes. For someone without any kind of training, the challenge will only be that much harder, and the risk that much greater."

Another breath. This was so difficult for her. Cassius was motionless on his side, taking in everything his mother said with care. "I know, mom."

"I'm just making sure, dear. You know how much I worry." A sniffle was heard on her end. "You're so much smarter than you give yourself credit for. I know you could succeed in anything you wanted to do." She managed a weak smile. "You're your mom's kid, after all."

Cassius rolled his eyes, but couldn't fight the smile that threatened to break out on his face. "I think you give yourself too much credit."

"I don't know, your mom's pretty awesome. Tell him, Will." William shrugged beside her. "She's alright, I guess. At least she's pretty."

Cassius snorted. His mother let out a sound that was a mix between a sniffle and a laugh. William held a look that conveyed zero regret. Cassius couldn't remember a moment where he had ever missed his parents as much as he did now.

He waited a moment, for his mom to stop laughing, before speaking up. "Mom, you mentioned that Grandma Millie almost got... broken by battling, but she said otherwise. What did she say?"

"That, I do remember," Lila recalled. "When she was younger, she didn't call her desire to become a trainer a sudden moment that dawned on her. It was more something that she liked to say simply came to be. Like it was a natural progression. To her, there wasn't really a goal to training—she trained so that she could enjoy the journey she knew she would take later in life. To your grandmother, the moments were what made her happy."

"So more of a journey over the destination kind of thing," Cassius surmised. That made sense, from what he'd heard. He briefly remembered his grandmother mentioning how her becoming a trainer was something that came to be on its own.

His mother nodded. "She never denied the battling and issues after her peak being difficult. But she said that all of the people she met, and the moments she shared made it worth it. She couldn't ever quit—she talked about this feeling that kept her coming back."

Cassius' eyes widened slightly. That didn't sound very far off from what he had felt not too long ago. Or what he had felt when he inexplicably accepted Hop's request, back in Postwick.

"Cassius, I'm going to naturally worry about everything you do. That's my job as a mother. I recognize that I conflated the risk of becoming a trainer with the risk of branching out, and trying new things. I should have pushed you to be more outgoing when you were younger, and I should have been a better mother to you—I'm sorry." Before Cassius could interrupt, she continued. "But it's too late to dwell on that now. So, what I'll do now is tell you something I should have told you back then."

She steadied herself, her grip on her husband's hand tightening. It was silly, but she didn't want to flub the one thing she absolutely had to tell her son. Ensuring her voice was even, she spoke.

"Go."

Cassius sat, silent. His mother took that as a cue to continue. "If you are absolutely set on trying to make this work, I'm not going to stop you. Go, and be a trainer. Meet people. Make memories. If what my mom said was true, then those will be worth whatever hardship you face on your journey."

"You're going to struggle. You'll probably fail too, sometimes. But if you remember anything, remember this." She couldn't prevent the dam from breaking this time, tears flowing freely. "W-We will always, always, always love you. Even if you become the best trainer in the world, even if you lose your first gym battle, or if you land anywhere in between the two. You are our pride and joy. Never forget that."

Cassius couldn't help himself either. He hated crying; to him, it was such a pathetic thing to do, especially when it didn't solve anything in the short-term. Even so, as his eyes watered and his lip quivered, he was unable to stop the tears that streamed down his face.

He wanted to refute what his mother had said. When he was alone, and sad, and without anything in his life to work toward, his parents had been there for him at every juncture. To remind him that he was never truly alone, between them, and later, Hyla. They'd given him a welcome home to come back to every day, and love enough so that he never even considered the more extreme thoughts that sometimes meddled with his brain. He couldn't bear living with any pain he might have caused them.

His parents, for any mistakes they might have thought they had made, were heroes to him. To him, his mother couldn't have possibly been a better mom. Nor his father a better dad. Anyone would have been lucky to have them. He didn't know which higher power he would have thanked for making them his parents.

It had been one word. One simple, measly little word. But Cassius supposed that was all it took, sometimes. One word, from someone who believed in you with all of their heart. And when it came from a parent—well, it was a powerful thing.

"Thank you," Cassius choked out between tears. "T-Thank you, s-so much." He allowed himself a small, tired laugh. "Gosh, I'm all over the place. I don't know what to say."

"Your mom doesn't either," William Hargreaves agreed, speaking on behalf of his wife. She was full-on bawling now, using his shirt as a makeshift tissue. There was a kind of humor in seeing the indomitable real estate professional Lila Hargreaves sobbing like a little girl, but he'd comment on that later. His eyes were too misty for him to be in any position to tease. "There she goes again, speaking on behalf of both of us. She didn't let me get in a single word."

"Shorry," Lila managed, before breaking down again. "I-I need a—snrk—mwinute..."

"Don't worry, love. Cassius and I have always been on the same wavelength, haven't we?" No argument from Cassius there. While he took more after his mom physically, his temperament was all William Hargreaves. They'd had full-on conversations with less than five words exchanged before.

"Well, since we're all having a heart-to-heart, I'll say this at least. We're with you all the way. And if you need anything from us, we're one phone call away." In a smaller voice, he added. "Though, I'd recommend you call me first before your mom. We both know how long she'll talk your ear off."

"No doubt," Cassius laughed. He checked the time—it was getting late. They'd probably be having dinner soon. Boy, did he have a lot to talk about with them. He had no idea how the rest of the night would go.

His parents didn't need to know about that, though. "Thanks mom, thanks dad. I'm feeling a lot better now. I'll let you two go."

"Okay," his mother seemed to have gotten the worst out of her system, dabbing what was left of her tears with her sweater sleeve. "I'm glad you called. I didn't know how much I missed you until I heard your voice again. The house is so lonely without you and Hyla here!"

"I miss you both too. I'll try to see if there's a stretch during the challenge where I could schedule a visit." That was a thought for another time, though. "Okay, bye."

"I love you, Cassius."

"Love you too, mom."

"If there's anything you need—anything at all—don't hesitate to call."

"Will do, mom."

"I mean it! And I better not hear about you messing around with random girls! Just because you can practice safe sex does not mean I want to be talking about grandchildren with some floozy you just met!"

"Mom, please."

"Okay, Lila, that's enough," William quickly cut off his wife, who continued trying to talk over him to no avail. "Be safe, Cassius. We love you." A click, and his parents' voices were gone. He was alone once again.

What a conversation that had been. Much more productive than he'd originally thought it would be, by far. He'd have to send them something later, as a token of his thanks.

For now, what mattered was what happened next. There were still two people he had to talk to. One of which was not very pleased with him. He could talk about being a trainer all he wanted, but he wasn't going anywhere if he didn't have Hop and Gloria providing him with help.

From his tent, he heard the telltale signs of pots and pans being shuffled about. Someone was starting dinner. Well, no time like the present. He gathered his things, pocketed his phone, and made to set out.

Not before he released Hyla from her Poké Ball, however. She looked to be doing better, at least physically. She wasn't obviously injured, at least. His Pokémon glanced up at him with a curious look, no doubt intrigued by the puffing around his eyes and the raspiness of his voice.

He pet her. "Hey, girl. I'm alright." He took a breath, reaffirming the fact to himself again. "I'm alright." Hyla could probably tell she was nervous, and she licked his face in a show of comfort. He welcomed the gesture without resistance.

Cassius almost shuddered. He was nervous all over again. "That obvious, huh?"

"Arf!"

A sigh, as he opened the flap to his tent. "Figured."

Lila Hargreaves reclined into her husband's chest, a mess of emotions and post-sob hiccups. William held her, occasionally rubbing a gentle hand over her own. "I'm so nervous, dear."

"I know," William nodded. "I am too."

"I mean, what if something happens? What if he gets hurt? What if someone threatens him?"

For some reason, William didn't think it would come to that. Had she been drinking? He'd have to check the wine cabinet later. "He'll be okay, love."

"Oh, I know I said I'd trust him, but it's so much to think about! Our precious Cassius, a renowned Pokémon trainer! I just don't know what's going to happen!" She gasped. "What if he's really good? Like, really really good?"

William shrugged. "We could retire early, probably."

"William!"

"Just a thought."

Lila moved on. "He'll be on TV, in front of... gosh, millions of people. Him and Hyla! That sweet thing... oh, I hope she doesn't get hurt too bad."

"She's strong, love. I think she'll be more than fine. Your mom helped to raise her, in case you forgot."

"I know," Lila slumped again. "I'm worrying too much, aren't I?"

William knew better than to mock her for it. "We said we'd believe in him, but that doesn't take away from the fact that what he's doing is risky. No one said supporting him would be easy, or instantaneous. We just have to live with the fact that it's all in his hands now. There's nothing we can do."

Lila sighed. "You're right... our little boy's all grown up."

"Indeed he is."

Silence for a moment. Lila burrowed deeper into her husband's chest. William reached over for a nearby tissue (something he probably should have done some time ago, in retrospect), and offered it to his wife without a word. She blew weakly.

"Did we do good?" Lila asked quietly. William answered with all the certainty he knew he had in them, and their son. "Yes, we did."

"..."

"..."

"... I want another one."

"No, honey, you don't."