One thing I didn't like about Goh in JN was the constant impression that he wasn't a real friend to Ash, but that the writers wanted us to believe that anyway.

Goh... was a friend you could count on when the episode focused on that, on the "important" moments, in short, I felt perfectly when the writers said: "You saw how great our little guy is! A real buddy, everyone would like to have a friend like him!" Except that for me it wasn't just the important episodes, it was also the little details, the side episodes, and that's where my problem lay. Take the episode where Ash is looking for Infernape, worried like you and I would be about the disappearance of a loved one, Goh helps him... but he quickly forgets the Pokémon he's supposed to be looking for as soon as he sees a Pidgeotto. Yes, it's meant to be comical, but there's always that background noise where you get the feeling that when Goh has something he wants to do, his friends take a back seat. Goh does help Ash get better during his depressive episode, but remember that the first thing he says to him is "Hey! You said you'd come with me to find this Flygon, so you're coming." In fact, he didn't ask himself what would be the best way to help Ash, he just followed his original plan, and all the better if he helped the boy in the process.

That character model was what I wanted to avoid in my fic: Ash should not only help Serena in the big moments, but also be there for the little details. So I came up with the idea that he could take care of cleaning the girl's clothes. Something he's not good at, a thankless job, but something he'd be there for.

So early on, I imagined a dialog between Braixen and Ash next to a washing machine, but at first it was just for background. In that first draft, Ash was supposed to be very open about what he was thinking and analyze his thoughts almost like a psychoanalyst would... That was my problem. Ash couldn't be so clear about his thoughts in a context where he's still in shock, lost by events, and in a state of deep despondency. I simply couldn't imagine Ash having the strength to hold such a long dialogue. So I had to streamline my dialogue without losing the message I wanted to convey in the beginning about Ash's feelings.

It was at this point that I read Stephen King's short story about a toy (a monkey with cymbals) and his frightening way of presenting the object gave me an idea: to translate and metamorphose my dialogue and thus was born this strange chimera: the symbolism of a washing machine (I can't believe I said that sentence x)).

Yes, I'm proud of it, I admit. I think it offers a way to present things in a different way from the usual dialog, while still managing to give the important information and leave the reader free to think.

What do you mean, I focus on the uninteresting stuff? Yeah, okay, maybe, but actually this whole chapter comes from thinking about that first part, so it still had a certain importance to me xp

It's not just a hortensia

In this small room there were no tiles, no parquet, no carpet, just dusty concrete. This place had either been forgotten or neglected. Hmm... that must have been it. The machine in front of me whirred, with its big round mouth and two big white eyes, it seemed surprised to see me. This thing must have been used to visitors, but it must have been so rare to stay with it, to wait next to this noisy object whose corners clattered on the floor.

The white pipes on the neglected walls began to vibrate and the machine stopped, as if listening to the song of its brothers in misfortune. It wouldn't last long, I knew. The white box shook with sudden madness and the inside of its mouth began to spin and spin and spin at full speed. Its vibrations were intense, its body seemed ready to fall to one side or the other. It rumbled as if to express its hatred of being left here, of being something to be hidden away, forgotten in a room left to its own devices. I envied it. The smell of laundry filled the air as I watched the clothes spin through the window. Serena's pink dress. Serena's blue ribbon.

'Delicate'. It was important that the button on the machine was set to 'Delicate'. And yet the drum was spinning so fast that the clothes were losing their shape, almost disappearing. So why could I still see it? Serena's blue ribbon. The one I'd given her. I could almost swear it was knocking on the window, begging me to let it out. Not yet, it was still far too dirty for that. But the vibrations were losing strength, the clothes were reappearing and the metal cylinder was slowing down. One last turn, the inertia of its movement making it rise slightly before falling back motionless. It was over. The cycle was over. And now the shrill beep echoed through the room. My step was heavy, noisy, unbearable as I moved towards the machine. The cycle was over and Flannery would soon be here, responding to the cries of the creature calling her. The cycle was over, so it was time to join Serena. But the clothes were still dirty.

Still dirty, so I had to feed the beast. Offer it these white grains and then a simple squeeze. I thought it wouldn't be enough, that the machine wouldn't respond to the claw that grazed its surface. Another howl, long, very long, as if the object was considering my request. Then the drum resumed its movements, the pipes shook again and the machine gave up its voice and let its body hum. A cycle began. Perhaps by the time it was over, the ribbon would have regained its lustre. Maybe... but if not, I'd have to start a new one. A squeak behind me. I didn't have to turn to know that the door was being opened.

"I thought I heard..."

I'd always thought Braixen looked a lot like her trainer. Even if the vixen was often biting in her words, there was always a background, an imprint that seemed to mimic Serena's tone. And now, that tired timbre, that pokemon voice...

"It was always dirty."

Was that my voice? It was deep, almost harsh, it sounded like the white object rumbling. But it was my voice. It was my answer as I stared at the damp cloth flapping against the silver surface. The door creaked and slammed shut. My shoulders tightened, my tail curled around my legs. My back tingled, as if what I suspected was the vixen's gaze had a physical force, a tangible existence I could feel.

"It's been a long time."

She had spoken in a detached manner, far from the reproachful tone I would have expected. She was simply observing.

"It was dirty," I repeated.

"Don't you want to get out of here?"

"The cycle isn't over."

Silence, except for the thunder of the object.

"I see," Braixen said at last.

She had spoken so softly that I might not have heard her. Moss filled the mouth of the machine, reminding me of the snow that covered and hid the dead trees and barren land that came with winter.

"Ash... do you want to leave?"

I turned to the fox. She was leaning against the door, her snout down.

"You can stay here, you can run this old machine as much as you like. And... I won't ask you to stay again. "

She had raised her head, her small eyes not looking at me, preferring to stare at the white cube behind me.

"Yes, we relied too much on you. We expected too much from you when..." She closed her eyes, wincing as she inhaled the chemical air. "I can't ask you to bear this pain."

My lips parted, a guttural sound coming from my throat as I asked this pokemon:

"Why?"

Braixen turned and let the door creak. She answered me, in a voice that still held some of her trainer's memories:

"You're human, Ash. That's why. "

My tail slammed to the floor as the door closed. The clothes had become invisible again and the noise had never been so violent. Soon the cycle would be over and I'd have to start again. As long as I didn't get out of here, as long as I didn't go back to Serena, it would continue. No, it would start again, it would finally start again once I was gone. You'll stay with me, the object growled. But to do that, you must become human again. Take off the skin that doesn't fit you and stay with me, in our little world. The drum spun faster and faster, the clothes disappeared, the ribbon vanished. Look, even if it's dirty, at least you won't see it anymore. You won't see that terrible ribbon any more. So take off that skin that doesn't fit you, throw it inside me and I'll make it disappear. I'll turn around and everything will disappear.

Of the many wounds Flannery had tried to heal, there was one on this arm. One that split the scales, big enough for my teeth to slip through. Why hadn't I thought of it before? A violent jerk of the head and I tore off the scales and the skin just underneath. The big flap of flesh hung in my mouth, some scales had fallen off, but there was nothing human underneath. Just the blood spurting from my veins and the pain.

The beep sounded. I looked inside the machine, at the crumpled clothes behind the window. I could see it, I could see the ribbon. Blood dripped from my fingertips and fell into the dust. The high-pitched voice of the machine, its scream, reminding me that the cycle was over. So that was it, even if I started a new one, even if Serena's clothes disappeared again, I knew... They'd always be there. My hand caressed the smooth white surface, tracing the outline of the monster's mouth. It was dirty. The ribbon was dirty. The blue ribbon I held in my hand now was still dirty but... it would always reappear and that's why I would never be able to sit back and watch that old machine run again.

The corridor may have been wide, but my wings rubbed against the walls and I kept thinking about folding them up. And when they weren't giving me problems, my tail was having a field day, hitting and blackening the wallpaper and... I hadn't noticed the little varnished wooden table. But my tail hadn't missed it, it swept up one of the legs and knocked it over, taking with it all the pens and magazines that were lying on it. Brilliant, really brilliant. But whose idea was it to put that thing in the corridor? It didn't belong there! I bent down and tried with one hand to pick up the colourful objects scattered on the floor. A leadless pencil, pens covered in ink, I'd probably go faster if I put the clothes down... I put the table back in its place and placed the fruits of my collection on it. It had taken a long time. Drying the shabby clothes, ironing them without widening the tears, folding what I didn't want to throw away. I wasn't good at it, especially with only three fingers on each hand, which was easy to see when you looked at the work I was holding to my chest. The fabric poked out here and there, the many folds giving the clothes an accordion effect. I could have rolled them up into a ball and it wouldn't have been any more disastrous.

Disastrous. And Flannery hadn't come to help me because she was worried about her grandfather, because the Admin wouldn't let her leave this house, because she must have been upstairs plotting an escape with Matt sitting outside her door. Flannery hadn't come. Flannery had thrown Serena's clothes into the washing machine, then left and forgotten about them. Because she had more important things to think about, because she didn't care about Serena's clothes...

Never mind the magazines on the floor, never mind the old abandoned pens. I had to get her clothes back. I had to get them back to her, even if my hands got sweaty, even if my heartbeat quickened as I approached the door. Do you remember, Ash? That feeling when you were a trainer, that moment just before a big match when your nerves were on edge. You loved that feeling because you knew that anything was possible. Despite the butterflies in your stomach, there was everything to play for, everything to decide. But what about today?

I reached the end of the corridor and behind that door I knew there would be no fighting, there would be nothing I could do, nothing I could decide. The door was heavy and the applause that greeted my entrance was nothing more than the creaking of the hinges. This was my battleground. A living room, the walls lined with shelves of books. And my opponent? My head swivelled, following the colourful blankets and the grooves in the wooden slats. And finally, in a corner of the room, several pokemons I knew well had gathered around a red futon. Were you there? Hiding under the covers? Maybe you were already awake and afraid to look up. I wouldn't be upset, at least not today. So you could get up and tell me you were feeling better.

"Look, Serena, I brought your clothes back."

Maybe she hadn't heard me. I moved closer, the shadows moving around her, but I couldn't concentrate on anything but her face. She was breathing calmly, the oxygen tank and mask not far from her, just in case... My head spun, my wings swollen with blood as a fierce ball of heat charred my insides. She wouldn't wake up. Because she didn't want to see me, because she didn't want to talk to me, because she hated me! The books, the shelves, they went round and round and round, and I staggered. The floor was a mass of cotton, a fuzzy sensation that gave me no orientation. Why had I come back? Why had I come back? Why had I come back? When I knew full well that...

"Listen to me!"

I thought my head would split open at that desperate cry. I could feel the ground beneath my feet again, the sound of my heavy breathing and the blood burning the inside of my scales as if it had turned to acid.

"Why are you reacting like this? I just want to... apologise... but... after all, what's the point of protecting me if you run away like this? What's the point if... if you regret saving me."

His hair was wet with tears, the flashes that escaped from his cheeks beyond his control. And poor Braixen was doing her best to calm him down, but she was clenching her fists, I could see her teeth coming in, her tail bristling, and if this continued...

"Minun."

My voice sounded so weak, but the little creature turned towards me, blinking several times as if surprised to see me. It hurt, the smile I tried to put on my face hurt.

"Have you... Have you slept lately?" I stammered.

"Sleep?" the pokemon repeated.

"And eating. It's important to eat if you want to be full of energy."

"Do you know what's going on?" he asked me suddenly.

My throat tightened as he shifted and I saw Sylveon trembling against her trainer. It was as if she had reverted to the frightened Eevee that would run away if a stranger got too close. Minun walked slowly towards her, motioning for the vixen not to disturb him. He held out his hand, but at the last moment a bluish light pushed it away.

"Every time I try to get close to her, she does this," he growled and turned around. "I fainted, she protected me, she was alone against that guy. And now I know she's angry with me. And you want me to sleep. To eat? You're asking me to do this... without even trying to understand or see what's going on!" he exploded.

But his legs were shaking and he had to sit up to avoid collapsing for good. Serena's torn clothes pressed against my chest, and I stood motionless, unable to react, unable to comfort a pokemon.

"Minun, that's enough," Braixen breathed.

The little monster lowered his head and wiped his wet cheeks with the tips of his paws. He stumbled clumsily over to Serena's bag and pulled out his pokeball. He pressed the button, gave me one last look and whispered to me:

"I'll be better in there, won't I?"

He was gone, swallowed up by the two-coloured ball, as if his existence had been erased from the world.

"I didn't mean to... I thought..."

I struggled to find the words, my tongue scraping against my new, sharp teeth.

"Have you come to say goodbye?" Braixen asked me.

The vixen had always been careful with her fur. But today tufts of hair were matting her tail. I handed her the clothes and she looked at them for a long time. I expected her to laugh at me and then try to catch up with my work. But she didn't, just smiled slightly.

"Thank you," she murmured.

She looked so old to me, with her faded coat, the dark circles under her eyes, and her shoulders slumped as if they had to support an invisible weight.

"You're a mess," she said, looking me up and down.

That much? Evolving hadn't been enough to heal all my wounds this time... or had I made them after my transformation, I wasn't sure, I didn't want to remember.

"Come on, Sylveon, you've got to pull yourself together," the vixen encouraged as she crouched down beside the pokemon, her paw resting on the bluish barrier that had just appeared.

A long moment passed before the fairy pokemon finally let go of her guard, exhausted. She whimpered as the vixen approached, curling up against her trainer as the claws touched her head.

"You were very brave," Braixen murmured.

She was careful not to raise her voice, her paw gently stroking the white fur. Sylveon lifted her head, her big blue eyes filled with tears.

"Braixen?" she said, stunned.

"You must rest now," the pokemon breathed.

She hesitated, her band wrapped tightly around Serena's arm.

"I'm scared. I'm really scared. Serena is... she might..." the pokemon admitted with a squeak.

My stomach was churning and my ears were ringing. No, you couldn't... But... you'd already left, you'd already said goodbye to me in Kalos. So maybe you'd rather go this time, you'd rather...

"Serena won't leave us!"

I gasped, shuddering at the look of anger on the vixen's face. Sylveon lowered her eyes, took one last look at her trainer and then whispered:

"Yes. Yes, you must be right. You have got to be right!"

She rose to her feet, her lanky body looking even more slender than before, her slender legs too fragile to support her. Like Minun, she disappeared into her pokeball.

"Do you really think so? Do you really think she won't leave us?"

I wondered what kind of face I was making when I asked her that question. Was it fear? Hope? Or maybe something else, but it seemed to surprise her.

"Yes, yes, I believe that. And you? Do you doubt it?"

My tongue sliced across one of my teeth and blood poured from the wound, filling my mouth and throat. It was oozing, the viscous liquid oozing from the edge of my lips and I couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Why shouldn't she!" I spat.

The drops of blood fell to the ground, spread over the wood and melted into a shadow.

"She laughed at me! She asked me to trust her and look what happened... She doesn't care about me. She doesn't care what I can become. She just... She can go... without me..."

Vermeil red spots were now streaking Braixen's white face. I didn't want to say all this, I didn't want to get angry. Because it wasn't me, because I wasn't that kind of boy, because if I showed it... Mum would feel so bad...

"I'm sorry."

But one day I'll be a Pokemon Master, and then you can get on with your life, you can follow your own dreams without worrying about me. So go, leave me alone, I'm happy, I'm happy with pokemons.

"I entrust her to you."

I looked up sharply. Why did Braixen tell me this? I couldn't... I saw her walk over to the bag and grab a pokeball. No! I still had that magma inside me, the very magma that threatened to explode and spill over onto Serena. If Braixen left, if there was nothing left to hold me back...

"I'm going to hurt her," I whispered.

"Make sure Matt doesn't get any closer."

She didn't understand! He wasn't the danger! It was me... it was me who was going to hurt Serena!

"I can't do it."

"And if you see Pancham, tell him from me that he's an idiot."

Was she really going to go back into her pokeball? Was she really going to leave me alone with her?

"I don't want to... "

The red light surrounded the fox. Me too! I wanted to disappear too!

"I thought you didn't like being trapped in a pokeball."

I froze when I heard those last mocking words. And now what? My tail dragged along the floor as I approached Serena, magma rising in my throat, flames consuming my mouth. Explode. Explode. Explode!

"Ash..."

Her clothes were still in my arms. Clothes that had taken me so long to clean and iron. The clothes that unravelled in my hands. The clothes I wanted to return to you... I lay down, my wing covering her. A shock ran through me, starting at the thin green membrane and spreading throughout my body. A warning, a message telling me to flee, screaming at me to get out of the way.

So sensitive. The inside of my wing felt the slightest movement, guessed her shape, her warmth. I could see Serena, it was different, it was that strange sensation where even when you closed your eyes you could see exactly where your body was, what movements it was making. Serena... it was the first time I'd seen her so clearly. But my wing still wanted to move away, I could feel the spasms running through it. Fear poured out of me, fear that Serena could easily tear the thin membrane. And at the same time, I didn't want to take it off, I wanted to keep seeing her.

My hand found Serena's, clinging to her and refusing to let go. Her pulse beat against my palm, a little fast but steady. I stood still, the flames receding, the magma slowing, solidifying in my belly. The lava had finally stopped, but... it weighed, it hurt, deep inside me, heavy and cold, it would stay heavy and cold.

The fresh night air still permeated the little panda's fur as he walked through the corridors of the house. The lights out, the silence, his knee aching with every step. He leaned against the wall for a moment, telling himself he could always go back, find the little trapdoor that led to the roof and lie down on the slate. He was safe up there, far from Braixen's crazy ideas, far from their arguments... Pancham scratched his neck and sighed. He had had arguments with the vixen, some of them his fault, others where she had started them. He knew what it was like, he was familiar with the escalating tone, the insolence of the words or, on the contrary, the vengeful silence. But this time it was different. Pancham shuddered as he remembered the vixen's battered face and growled as he remembered her calm voice as she repeated over and over again: "Ash has the right to go." He knew she was right, he knew they had relied too much on the shapeshifter, but... He didn't want the first thing his trainer discovered when she woke up to be the disappearance of his friend.

Too lost in his thoughts, the darkness of the corridor not helping, Pancham didn't notice the pen that a certain false pokemon had forgotten to pick up, and stepped on it. The object rolled over and the panda's already weak leg gave way.

Lying on the ground, the little pokemon looked up at the starless sky. It was cold. The snow on his fur, bamboos that surrounded him, their canes stiff as bones, their pulpy nodes surrounded by an icy disk. His parents, his sister, whom he loved so much, couldn't be far away, safe in the cave that served as their refuge. But he wasn't going back to them, at least not today. He blew away some of the fog and took one last look at the bamboo. He had found what he wanted to do, something he couldn't achieve by staying here. Pancham clapped his hands together, shaking off the snow that clung to his coat.

On that winter's day, his mother had embraced him, his father had stroked his head, and his little sister had held back her tears and refrained from asking him to stay. They had accepted his departure with tears, with annoyed grunts at this brat who didn't even want to wait until spring to leave. This immature little Pancham, who had planned to leave as soon as the first snow fell to save his family a mouth to feed... even though his father had called him an idiot for thinking like that. The snowflakes were falling now, and the little panda squinted to see them melting on the tip of his snout. He loved them, he loved them so much, but he would have blamed them if they had tried to stop him.

Pancham opened his eyes, and both the snow and the bamboo forest had melted away, becoming mere intangible memories. The panda stood up, knowing full well that the former trainer had already left. He had to accept that, understand that holding on to someone somewhere... didn't necessarily mean staying. The pokemon walked on, careful not to lean too heavily on his impotent leg. To think he'd climbed onto the roof... Braixen wanted to give him a good thrashing for being so careless.

When the little pokemon entered the room where his trainer was, the door of which had fortunately been left ajar, he was surprised by the warmth of the room and the flickering flame near the shelves. Pancham's eyes widened and his mouth fell open when he saw the huge orange body behind the flickering flame. The pokemon approached, sniffed and touched the sleeping dragon's skin. He couldn't believe it, that wing resting on the girl, that scaly cheek clinging to the trainer's cheek, and that clawed hand clinging to Serena's wrist. This fake pokemon, this human who dreamed of becoming a Pokemon Master... what was he doing here?

"Ash?" the stunned panda whispered.

The fire monster groaned without waking, clinging even tighter to the Kalosian. Unable to let go, unable to move, and Pancham watching.

Pancham raised his hand to touch the rim of his glasses, tracing with his finger the crack that had formed in the lens. They were Serena's favourite pair, the ones she had given him the day they met.

"She's going to be mad at me," the little monster sighed, not really believing it.

He hadn't expected to see the fire monster's body tremble, nor to see the reptile's frightened eyeball turn in its socket before suddenly disappearing behind the tightly closed eyelids. Pancham's mouth twisted, this human who always shouted so loudly that he was going to fulfil his dream, this boy who swore to travel and who seemed to let nothing stop him...

"You... You never wanted to leave."

Why do you obey him? Flannery's howl was still ringing in Matt's ears as he watched the young trainer struggle to breathe. She was shaking, the hollows above her collarbones deepening with each breath, her face flushed with fever and glistening with sweat. The leader clung to the mask, anxiously watching the meter on the white metal bottle. How long would it last? The Admin had allowed the orange dragon to go to the doctor, but he didn't seem to be very good at flying, and everyone knew that dracaufeus weren't exactly known for their running speed. Should he have sent the leader? Not really, leaving that hothead out there wouldn't do any good.

Why do you obey him? Matt bit his fingernail through his glove. Should he have ignored his boss's orders and agreed to let them leave town? But if Archie had refused, it must have been for a good reason...

"What's he doing?" the Team Aqua trainer growled at the Charizard's slow pace.

He'd had enough of seeing that girl burning with fever, it disgusted him, made him want to puke. How could Archie have sent him into such a mess? Especially when he knew... The door slammed and the fire pokemon burst in, followed by the nurse and the ever-so-calm doctor. Poor monster, his tail beating the ground, his scales rising and his terrified eyes not knowing who or what to look at. Completely lost, ready to listen to anyone who could give him some semblance of a solution.

"Move over," the doctor ordered.

The covers were pulled back, exposing the trainer's white legs. White? Well, not quite. Large blue meshes had formed on the young girl's knees and visibly spread down the rest of her legs. It was a net, a trap thrown over the victim's limbs, the object of a fisherman who did not want to lose his prey. The nurse was busy: syringes, bags, disinfectant, gloves, manipulating everything with the automatic gestures she had acquired through repetition. But would it be enough? Judging by the reproachful look on the doctor's face, Matt doubted it. He could call Archie back if they wanted, but his answer was unlikely to change and...

Why are you obeying him? Oh, shut her up. Let Flannery's voice stop bothering him. He wasn't a puppet, he could make his own decisions, but... Archie... The Admin's muscles twitched, an invincible trismus paralysing his jaw. Letting the girl go with that Charizard wouldn't hinder their plan in the slightest. Besides, his boss probably didn't realise the seriousness of the situation. It could happen, even to the best.

"I..." Matt began in a pasty voice.

He stopped just as the nurse attached a small clear plastic bottle to the tube. The letters on it were large enough for him to read from a distance.

"Augmentin," he said aloud.

Still unsure of what he was seeing, he reread the inscription several times, making sure there was nothing else around, but... The anger rose, rose, rose, and finally exploded into a fat laugh, a reassuring laugh.

"Augmentin!" he laughed. "Seriously?"

The doctor frowned without answering, preferring to ignore the ravings of the Team Aqua man. But Matt had decided otherwise, and he reached over to the IV stand and snatched the bottle from under the disillusioned eyes of the nurses.

"What the..."

The doctor didn't say another word as he watched the giant crush the bottle in his fist.

"Doctor, this girl has been bitten by a sharpedo, a shar-pe-do."

This time the doctor stared at the Admin as if expecting him to whisper an answer. And then the man's face flushed and his calm expression turned to a nervous twitch as he rose to leave the room.

"Char!" the fake pokemon panicked.

"Leave him alone for a moment, I think our friend the Doctor needs some time to... think."

The man's teeth clenched, but he didn't argue, asking his nurse to do what was necessary while he checked a few details. Matt laughed again, oblivious to the questioning looks he received.

"What's so funny?" ranted Flannery.

The Admin didn't reply, preferring to rummage through the bookshelf until he pulled out a children's book. He turned the pages, a happy smile on his face as he admired the pastel drawings. What was so funny? It was funny that he could question his loyalty to his captain for this brainless leader, to this pathetic doctor who had made such a big mistake. And poor Charizard, who had trusted them, he really felt sorry for him.

Another convulsive laugh shook the colossus so much that he had to put his hand in front of his face to stifle it. Augmentin, a good treatment, the classic kind that the doctor had to use without question to prevent infections, the kind that always worked, at least for an earth pokemon bite. But who could blame the man for not knowing about something he wasn't used to? Poor guy, it would be so cruel to blame him. He had done his best, hadn't he?

"It takes him a looooong time to go through his books," the admin laughed, glancing at the door.

What was sepsis after all? No big deal! But still, what would he say to the fire pokemon when the little girl's heart stopped? Maybe a little defibrillator shot, just to justify the ready-made phrase he had in his head, the famous: We've tried everything! Shocking a non-defibrillatable rhythm was a nice "we've tried everything". And with a pokemon and this leader, there was every chance it would work.

Matt crumpled the paper. He knew this song well. He'd heard it as he lay dying on the rotting wood of the fishing boat he worked on. Bacteria wandered through his bloodstream, ravaging his organs like pirates plundering every port they came across. He had seen the lost look in his captain's eyes as death spread its nets over his legs, as if to prevent him from escaping. He had felt the rage as he felt his heart give out while people screamed from all sides. The rage of knowing he was going to die, not because there was nothing to be done, but because the right thing hadn't been done.

The Admin turned another page, lost in the shimmering colours. Archie had saved his life, but more than that... Archie had known what to do. And to meet someone who knew what to do in every situation, to know that the orders you obeyed served a purpose, that they led to success. If he followed this captain, he would no longer have to fear that on the day of his funeral some hypocrite with a small stove in his hand would sing the famous "We've tried everything". And that was why he wouldn't let him down, wouldn't disobey him, ever. Not because he was grateful, not because he owed him his life, but because following Archie meant following the right decision. And that was nice, damn nice.

"Stop laughing at us!" the girl with the fiery hair shouted. "It's your fault that Serena is in this state, so now you're going to take responsibility and..."

"My fault?" shouted Matt. He had dropped the book and was crushing it with his heel, his hands raised, ready to crush anyone who challenged him. "You didn't seem to care about her when you were shouting for us to get out of your volcano. You left a little girl alone, you burned her shoulder and yet it's all my fault?"

Flannery turned red and insulted the Admin, but Matt didn't care; all he cared about was the glint that now shone in the dragon's eyes. Yes, he understood, he understood that his trainer had probably chosen the wrong person to follow. And if the fire dragon recognised it, that meant... Matt couldn't stop laughing. That Archie, that damned Archie, he had really planned everything. No doubt he had sensed the lack of confidence in his loyal right-hand man. But don't worry, the great Matt had got the message, had remembered where his loyalty lay.

"You're a real piece of work," he laughed. "But you did well, as always, you did well."

The fabulous one let himself be carried by the wind, as if the air were a hammock in which he could relax. His ears twitched, annoyed by the roar of Mount Chimney as the Red Orb slowly but surely pulled itself out of the magma's entrails. With a final effort, a hiss, the sky burst into flame, and Mew closed his eyes and plugged his ears. At last, freed from its viscous prison, the lava-dripping orb had found its place in the human's hands.

Archie wasn't worried about his burning gloves or the heat sucking at his fingertips. He smiled, a blessed man holding the most precious of treasures. Mew looked at him, his tail snapping in the wind, reluctant to interfere and deprive him of such a precious object. It would demoralise these humans, the little pokemon thought. And it would be a shame to lose them, especially after seeing the effect they had on the Derkomai.

Mew did a nice aerial manoeuvre, barely able to hide his satisfaction. This Ash looked much more promising than the Meteor People kid he'd been watching. Let's let these humans have their fun with the orbs for now, I'll see how the Derkomai reacts. Confidently, the pokemon took off, not noticing Archie's glowing eyes staring at him with disdain.