Chapter 52: Day 19, Part 2 - Fudge Cakes

I assumed I was immune to nausea once.

As a reward for becoming a pokemon when I previously wasn't one, I could ride as many coasters as I wanted and not get sick. Unlimited soft pretzels! Funnel cakes all day! What a nice trade off!

Obviously, I was dead wrong. And the five times I dry-heaved up last night's dinner out of the sky cab was proof of that and then some.

I could still hear the Croconaw that was driving us down south yelling something by the time I was dragging myself back into the cab, my face likely as green as the outside of the door now was. I panted dryly, my head compressed against the headrest, the spinning only marginally comforted by Fenn's soothing arm rubs.

"A-are you okay?" he asked gently, for the umpteenth time. I guessed it was his way of making sure I hadn't choked yet.

And no, I wasn't.

Fenn would tell me over and over again that it was over now, we escaped, there was nothing to worry about anymore…but that didn't wipe off the flecks of blood still clinging to my fur. He rested his head on my shoulder, his flame vents radiating dull warmth on my chin. It smelled like a smoldering fireplace, and I didn't have the heart to tell him that it was making the nausea worse.

The world flew right by through the window, slipping out and away from my grasp, falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Then back up again, bringing the nausea with it. Like my head was still reeling and trying to fix itself, only to realize that nope, I couldn't revert what I did. I was stuck with the image of Crocus' severed hand in my head…ugh.

At least we were moving slow and steadily enough that Fenn didn't seem anxious at all, like how he was riding that Dragonite. Whatever his name was.

Or maybe he was too focused on me, I didn't think about it too hard.

Finch, looking uncharacteristically uneased for once, bounced Cosmo on his knee as he asked, "Get it all out yet?"

We were all seated side-by-side, packed like sardines inside the little cabin: me by the window, Fenn in the middle, Finch by the other window. In front of us was a velvety wall with nothing but a pouch for snacks and pamphlets stapled on. Discarded bottles and mugs rattled by our feet.

On the other side of the wall was the driver, a Croconaw Finch named Tusk. We could hear him shouting muffled, heavily accented commands at the Corvisquire carrying us from time-to-time. He was loud, and I wished he wasn't. I shot Finch a pointed glare over Fenn's head.

"…What do you think?" I grumbled. I sincerely hoped I wiped off all of the bits of vomit from my lips before saying that; I couldn't even remember if I did. The bile was simultaneously ripe and stale in the back of my throat.

Finch was gracious enough to not laugh at my retort. Under any other circumstances, I assumed he would have. "I didn't know you had it in you, Ozzy," he said.

I let out a stifled burp. "…Neither did I."

Since Cosmo was there too, he spoke up. "Why will no one tell Cosmo what happened…"

How he slept through all of that, I didn't know.

"I'll tell ya when you're older," Finch said. For once I was appreciative of his straightforward approach to these things.

Cosmo pouted, and had been pouting since Fenn told him that he wasn't going to daycare today. "Not fair to Cosmo, not fair…"

Finch ignored him. "The Pangoro will be fine," he muttered. "They can heal him, no problem."

I gripped my thigh, where Anemone's reflection had once punctured the skin with my own spike. The fur had yet to fully grow back yet, but the injury had all but vanished. I was under the impression that it would have left a scar, but no. So, maybe Finch was right. A whole hand could be stitched back on without any long lasting repercussions. Crocus might even forgive me.

But probably not. I felt like throwing up again.

"Urp…that's not…the problem," I uttered.

Finch shrugged his shoulders. "It was either that or never leave at all."

There had to be another way, I thought. If we had only planned more, not been so stupid and instead left in the middle of the night when half of the castle wasn't breathing down our necks…

But finding the circumstances for that? And with Finch potentially locked away…? It seemed impossible.

"H-how are you so…uncaring about this?" Fenn asked, his head still resting on my shoulder.

"I'm not," Finch said with a hiss to his voice. "If anything, I'm elated. We showed 'em what for."

I frowned. "Fenn has family back near Kebia. What will they think about all of this?"

Yes, it sounded like I was blaming Finch for what happened. I didn't intend for it to; the words just fell out. He wasn't the one to cut the guy's hand off, but…neither was I.

I hope. I think.

No, I was. Fuck. Shit. I'm gonna-

For the sixth time, I lurched and thrust my head out of the cab, my throat convulsing with dry air and gnarled, spiked saliva. I collapsed back into my seat a moment later, breathing faster in tandem with my beating heart.

Fenn gave me some space this time, which I was thankful for. If I were a cat I would have started hissing at all the probable looks of concern I was getting. I, however, could only stare at the ceiling without toppling over. The air was simultaneously too hot and too cold at the same time.

God, my fur is like sandpaper on my skin right now. Aaaaggghhhh.

"H-hey," Fenn spoke up, "it's fine. I…I-I said that I'd follow you, Oswald. No matter what." He placed his paw atop mine. "D-don't worry about me."

Tiny embers floated into my vision only to be snuffed out immediately. Popping lights that I could easily confuse with myself losing consciousness if not for the smell. The closer I had gotten to Fenn the more I realized that I could recognize his scent—that sweetly smoky aroma. Even more so, I could recognize when that scent had been tainted. There was a hint of sweat riding that smoky ride, the sweetness turning sour at the utterance of his feigned reassurance.

Fenn was anxious. He just didn't want me to know it.

Finch tried, too. He said, "Look, these things happen all the time. Hot Stuff here can always just say it was an accident. You're thinking too hard about this."

I needed to change the subject.

"Do either of you have any food?" I grumbled. "Or water?"

There was a light rustling, then Finch said, "I've got a waterskin."

"O-our bag has some apples," Fenn added.

Cosmo exclaimed, helpfully, "Ooh, Cosmo can help with this!"

"Please," was all I could bring myself to say.

With Cosmo's psychic assistance, I was able to wash away at least some of the bile down my throat. Not all of it, mind you, but the ensuing reminder of my hunger distracted me from it a bit.

One thing after another with me, huh?

After finishing the apple, I decided to ask the question that had been on my mind since I initially saw Finch in the castle foyer earlier: "What have you been up to this whole time, Finch?"

Finch sneered when I looked at him. "Thought I told you that before I left."

"Not what happened," I said hoarsely. "Just where you were headed. I think you mentioned something about following that lead? How did it all end up like-" I motioned to the cab around us, "-this?"

"Good question." Finch picked at his teeth. "It's a long story."

I reminded him, "We have a long-ish ride ahead of us."

Cosmo, who had been floating about and slowly drifting with the motion of the cab, landed in Fenn's waiting arms without much thought. He spoke up, to pretty much the surprise of all three of us. "Um, Cosmo has a question."

"W-what is it, Cosmo?" asked Fenn.

"Yeah, what's up, little guy?" added Finch.

"...Where are we going?"

There was a moment between all four of us where no one had an answer to that question.

Something that always stuck out to me about Finch's personal accounts was that he used a lot more metaphors and exaggerations when talking about Kebia and Anemone and all that, but got more straightforward when mentioning places closer to where he grew up.

For example, he said this in relation to illegal fences in Kebia in the middle of his explanation: "Those that choose to dig to the belly of the beast either have their noses deep in the dirt or their [asses] in the sky. The former can help me out, but they charge like the latter."

All this really meant was that he had reliable options for getting out of Kebia after being shafted by the cart business, but all of them would cost him an arm and a leg. He explained that he encountered quite a few setbacks on his way out of the city, cementing that Anemone had been nipping at his tail as early as half a week ago.

Apparently, there was a vendor off an east end side street that worked as a seamster of deluxe, custom-made fabrics and furniture. Finch didn't know the guy, though he had talked to folks from elsewhere that traveled to Kebia just for the products they sold. Lots of exotic traffic, earning them a spot amongst a web of other practitioners.

They were a Galvantula. Go figure.

"W-wait," Fenn spoke up in the midst of all of this. "Galvantula? I-I know a Galvantula. She's a librarian a-at the castle."

"Robin has a pretty big family," Finch had said. "It's likely they're related."

Fenn went quiet after that.

Robin, the Galvantula, was the type of mon that always needed something to be done. That, alongside a growing list of patrons and providers, was one of the many reasons why Finch knew he could trust him. That kind of self-sufficient mindset never picked sides, apparently. I could believe it. A ride was almost guaranteed, but so was Finch's whereabouts if he was being followed—which he likely was.

All Finch had to do was offer a favor. Robin, unfortunately sensing an opportunity, proposed two. Finch just had to settle with that.

"So that worked?" I asked.

Finch grinned half-heartedly. "As far as you need to know. I got a ride back to Micle and found Tusk-" a casual point to the skycab's pamphlet pocket, "-pretty soon after."

I was curious. "What about the favors?"

"Don't worry about it."

Was Finch worrying about it, though? I couldn't tell. Damn lack of big floppy ears—he seemed stoic and blew off any concerns any of us might have had. I just had to wonder, how was he even supposed to make good on those promises, especially now? Last thing we needed was to be on the spider mafia's hit list alongside everything else going on.

Meanwhile, Cosmo was thrilled.

He said, "Shady business, like…being undercover!" His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint I was not too happy to see. His bubble jiggled ferociously in Fenn's arms. "So that means…Cosmo and friends are going to be in disguise! Mimikyu marauders!"

Not quite. Well, kinda.

As it turned out, that "lead" of ours was just as much a trap as anything else. Hopo Town had already been ransacked long before any of us could have conceivably arrived. Finch, graciously, did not concede in telling us how he got his info—said it didn't matter and that he'd handle most of the talking, anyway. I called bullshit, but there wasn't much I could do to convince him otherwise.

Which bothered me, honestly- the Hopo Town thing, not the convincing. Not only had Anemone been one step ahead of us, a whole town saw the brunt of the consequences meant for my stupid ass.

The nausea had since passed by this point, so the dizziness hurt less than the harsh tightening of my own fists. I was fuming long before Finch was done.

I could handle being treated like trash, but when other people got hurt because I wanted to stop being treated that way? It made me sick to my stomach. Images of innocent, well-meaning pokemon being locked away because of me entered my mind, wrapping my heart in barbed wire. It was clear that the guild had a hand in everything across the continent, so it was only a matter of time before my footprints would be covered with broken glass.

I groaned, my body sinking into my seat. "This is all my fault."

I want to melt away. Turn my body into an ooze that can't step on any toes, please.

"Don't think like that, Ozzy," Finch said. "There's always someone worse to blame."

"Y-yeah, please don't," said Fenn. "There's…n-nothing you could have done. Not with th-this."

Cosmo beamed, the excitement in his tone downright palpable. "Cosmo thinks this will be fun anyway! And- and- and tomorrow! Tomorrow will be even better!"

I let out a long sigh. It was Cosmo's comment that got me the most, leading me to look over after such a long time. "'Tomorrow?'" I repeated.

Something about the change in Cosmo's expression stood out to me. On top of the fact that I had never heard him say something like this before, his reaction to being singled out made no sense either. As opposed to getting all shy, he doubled down, his cheeks puffing up in defiance.

"Lose the fight today…fight harder tomorrow!" Cosmo declared. "That's the hero's way!"

A few silent seconds passed where we all stared at the Solosis. Fenn was concerned, Finch was nonplussed, and me—I was intrigued, needless to say. In that span of time Cosmo's purple bubble turned pink. The puffiness in his cheeks became flat.

Cosmo started to add more- "Cosmo, um…" -then quickly lost his nerve- "...Sorry."

"C-cosmo, where did you hear something like that?" Fenn wondered, holding the Solosis a little bit tighter against his chest.

In contrast, Finch snickered—a familiar noise. His arms were crossed, too. "Kid's been reading too many comic books."

The reaction only seemed to make the little guy wilt even more. "Cos- I…nevermind…," uttered Cosmo in a tiny voice.

He really should have owned it, in my opinion. It wasn't often that Cosmo was the one to make me think.

"No, it's fine, Cosmo," I said. "I actually think you have a good point."

"Really!?" I noticed the sudden wonder in Cosmo's eyes. A brief swap in bubble color—no more than a blink. Such a little complement, barely worth mentioning, but it lit up his whole world. How often did Cosmo get to have that?

Sometimes I would forget that Cosmo was just a kid and probably didn't have parents to do that for him. This whole time he'd been with us no one's even made an attempt to come up and claim him as theirs. Not that I thought anyone would.

The possibility had never once entered my mind, really.

Why was I just thinking about this now? I supposed that I decided to latch on to the first distraction I could get my hands on, and ended up defining Cosmo as my current centerpiece. In the process I realized that he was at least somewhat right. And far from home, just like me.

"I can't remember the last time I looked forward to tomorrow," I said in monotone. "I kept assuming that I wasn't worthy of it—having that luxury, I mean." I shifted my gaze to Fenn, who blinked at me. "It's tiring, giving up on today and losing hope in tomorrow at the same time. Always feels the same that way. I think…"

Where was I going with this? Was I looking for comfort? Reassurance? Maybe neither. All I knew was that talking aloud drove the nausea back down my throat.

I grasped Fenn's paw and gave him a lazy smile.

"I'll be okay," I said. "I will."

Fenn wavered. His grip was loose, at first unaccepting. It was unfair to him that I managed to turn the tables like this; he was supposed to be comforting me, after all. I wondered if he understood that relationships were meant to be like this. A real give-and-take.

He would learn. Both of us would.

"O-Oswald?" Fenn asked.

"Yes?"

"You have a little…u-um-" Fenn touched the base of his lip with his other paw.

I mirrored his gesture, raising an eyebrow. "I have what?" And then my eyes went wide when I realized what he was saying.

The outside of my lip was wet. Welp, there went the seriousness of what I was saying.

"Bleh," I muttered, wiping the spit from my mouth.

Fenn giggled. As did Cosmo. And Finch, too. They were all laughing at me.

But it didn't feel bad for once. My chest was warm, like I had just been wrapped in a hug on all sides.

Finally, Fenn gripped my paw back. "W-we'll be okay."

I nodded. "Won't be cutting off hands every day, after all."

"Yeah!" Cosmo concurred. "No more sadness! No more cutting off hands!

"…wait, what-"

Finch butted in. "It ain't always realistic, but the kid's right," he said. "You gotta keep moving. Someone'll make you sink if you stop." He paused, as if remembering something. "Hold that thought."

The Krokorok rummaged around in the backpack by his feet for a moment before pulling something out of it. There were two parts: a flat plastic disk-shaped object, and a horseshoe topped off with soft cushions at its tips, tenuously connected to the disk by black wires.

A CD player. I recognized it immediately.

"What the…?" I mumbled under my breath. Why did Finch have that?

Cosmo gasped. "A chakram of doom!?"

"Nah," Finch said, snapping his fingers, "TM learner. Gotcha a gift."

And then he handed it to me from across the cab.

"For you, Ozzy. Take this however you want. Maybe not a declaration of love, though," Finch laughed, eying Fenn. "Hot Stuff here wouldn't like that."

The cab lit up with the flash of Fenn's forehead flames as he was thrown completely off balance, sputtering incoherently.

I opted to ignore Finch's obvious attempt to provoke me, saying, "Thanks?" Looking down at the CD player, I could handily confirm after popping open the lid that yes, it had a CD inside. Or TM, I guess. How surreal.

I turned it over a few more times, feeling out its smooth, plastic carapace and running my fingers over the rounded edges. Not only was it real, it was brand new. Not a smudge or crack to be found.

At this rate I'll start seeing full-on computers, entirely in-tact and working in this world.

"Where did you get this?"

"Picked it up on my way back," Finch said, grinning. "Figured I oughta get you a souvenir, as well as something to make you less of a Wimpod if we get into trouble."

I gave him a look. An unamused look.

"This morning change your opinion on that?" I asked.

"No. I still remember your fight with that Wartortle. I know rough when I see it—and you, buddy, were as rough as a Garchomp's scales."

Right.

Cosmo peered over my knee with a mixture of bemusement and astonishment. "TM's are so cool…" he uttered. "Cosmo wants one, too!"

Eventually, and consequently, Fenn's flames simmered down just in time to shush Cosmo.

"Y-you won't be doing any fighting, Cosmo," he said. "P-please don't try to; it could be d-dangerous."

Cosmo wilted a bit at that. "Aw…"

Had to agree there. Cosmo was better off defenseless, as counterproductive as that sounded. The fighting should have been left to me—the guy that couldn't control his murder blade, obviously.

In any case, I ended up asking a more relevant question as I flipped the player around several more times: "How does this work?"

Believe it or not I had a vague idea of what TM's did. They teach a new move you couldn't learn already yada yada yada—I got that part. Couldn't remember the names of most berries but I remembered this. Someday I'd surely start to see a pattern.

I was wondering, though—was the learning process instant? How does one figure out a new technique after having a CD shoved into their mouth?

Or was I just supposed to…listen to it…?

I frowned when Finch's explanation didn't help.

"TM's rearrange your mind so you can put two-and-two together," the Krokorok said. "We're all capable of it, it just takes a little push. I know you're not familiar with this sort of thing, what with that amnesia problem of yours. It just makes sense. Trust me."

With a blank expression, I switched my gaze to Fenn.

He said, "Y-you listen to it and it teaches you a new move."

My shoulders relaxed. "...Okay," I uttered. Good enough.

I placed the CD- er, TM player on my lap, a strange sort of…contemplativeness hitting me all of a sudden. In a sense, I was one step closer to my previous life with this thing in my hands.

It was like…experiencing snow for the first time, even though I had absolutely seen it before. I knew what it looked like, what it meant, how cold it could be—all of that. Snowflakes trickled on the edges of window sills, forming a pastiche of icey condensation, radiating coolness. My fingers stuck to the glass. Fingerprints peeled and left warm little marks. My swirls. Soon, they would be overtaken. Or remain for years after, and my memories would cling to the thought as though it were anything important. In the grand scheme of things, frosty fingerprints were negligible. To me, though, in that moment—they connected me to myself.

I could envision it so clearly. That thought, that memory that wasn't really mine; not in any conceivably justifiable way. It was there at some point. I was there. But context did not exist for me like it did now. When and why did I look out of a window and see snow for the first time?

I didn't know. I just knew what a CD player was, what it meant, and how cold it could be.

My hesitation must have looked like confusion, because Fenn ended up setting Cosmo aside and shifting himself around to face his body towards me. "H-here," he mumbled, "let me…"

Fenn took the headphones in both paws and angled them in front of my face. His ears twitched, as he craned his head to get a better look at the bird's nest of fur atop my head. One fang poked out of his lips in slight concentration—likely in hopes of not making a mistake. He shifted a little closer, slowly bringing the crescent shaped pair of headphones over my head.

We were already sitting close, so the touch of his fur was less of a surprise than a consolation. His smell was stronger now, his warmth more prominent. But I still flinched when he half-leaned into me and half-climbed-on-top of me, tense against the steady rocking of the cabin. Last I remembered we were about the same height, so I had no idea what he was thinking here.

"You got it?" I asked, careful not to move too much.

"A-almost!"

Sure enough, the insides of his arms slid over the sides of my face, and, gently, the headphones were positioned over my ears. Everything grew more muffled, from the wing beats in steady rhythm just outside the cabin to the light breathing of Fenn right beside me. He moved back to his spot on the cushion, watching me intently.

"Th-that good?" Fenn almost sounded nervous.

I blinked. For a moment I was unsure of what to say. Putting the headphones on myself probably would have left me less flustered, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it at least a little bit that Fenn did it instead. The whole thing left me all tingly.

My response was, "...Yeah. Thanks, Fenn."

He smiled.

The cabin went quiet after that, a silent agreement to allow me to relax being placed between us. Instinctually, my fingers glided over the CD player, rubbing the plastic down for grooves and divots, eventually finding what I was looking for: a strip of buttons, functioning more as spring lock switches, positioned right at the edge near where the headphones were connected. One of the buttons held a green arrow symbol. I pressed it.

From there, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. The world melted away into a glassy, blue fog.

(...)(...)(...)

Wind cracked against the sky like a whip, wailing ceaselessly with a fierce vendetta. It struck the air, battered it, beat it into submission. No inch was left untouched, no blade of grass unfettered as they reached out for safety—for warmth.

Cold reigned supreme. Along with flakes of burning numbness pinching at every nerve as though it were a game: how many could it kill? Such cold lended its way to an unrelenting hellscape of white and grey; a freezing miasma that petrifies the soul. So vivid yet so disparaging.

Whiteness coated the landscape, a blanket of snow so thick that even the trees could not scream for help—as they, too, were buried. All feeling had been sapped or perhaps even destroyed. The corners of the world grew sharper as the body's last stand was running its course. Limbs ceased to function, digits receded into stumps. No struggle could break its bind.

Were I to shiver, the body's natural temperature regulation was much too late to save me. So, I did not shiver. I did not curl into a ball, or wrap my arms around myself, or feverishly search for shelter.

There was no hope in the cold. No crackling campfire waiting for this poor soul, who even now pitifully cried out for mercy. With time, the wind drowned my thoughts down to their basic form. Sanity permitted me to repeat them, like clockwork, one final time.

Cold. Cold. So cold.

Freezing. My limbs. Freezing.

Where is the sun? Where is warmth?

Home. Find home. Home.

Home.

Home.

Gone. I am gone. Alone. I am alone.

Alone.

Alone.

And then, I felt nothing.

I was numb, because the cold demanded it of me. It urged me not to grasp at hope, at fear. What was once mine belonged to the snow now. I had lost control of myself, letting my emotions dictate where my head might be facing, where my tail might point away from. They served me well, yes, but they also led me here. To the cold.

I did not need them anymore.

There was power in accepting my inevitable frostbite. After all, with my mind's priorities shifted so readily, I could think so much. Unlike before, I could pinpoint a single source of agony and extinguish it with impunity. There was no reason to squabble with unresolved anxieties and unspoken truths. The wind stole any remaining dignity I might have had and tossed it far beyond my reach.

With no more distractions, no more pain left to berate me, I began to recognize my faults for what they were: faults, and nothing else.

Clarity permitted me to walk again, the world still just as sharp, my limbs prickling with thousands of needles. My legs moved themselves, as they were not mine to control anymore. Walk and walk and walk, trudging through waist-high snow. I was vigorous. I was radiating. I was buzzing.

I began to hear my own voice speak to me.

"This technique requires a target. Once the code phrase is mentally uttered, frost will begin to accumulate in your maw. Note: Ice Beam is activated through oral exhalation. Those familiar with water propelled techniques will see definite success."

Water Gun was a distant memory in another life. I had since reincarnated, my skin taking on a different shade of black and blue, now far from familiar of such basic concepts. Even still, droplets clung to the underside of my tongue in anticipation. Being free from my own pain finally allowed me to confront the demons I had once harbored, and my jaw ached to unclench.

"In the early stages of learning, most of the difficulty that comes with stabilizing the beam will be automated. After the learning period of about three weeks on average, this training assistant will begin to deteriorate. It is recommended that you attempt to manually stabilize your beams within the first week of use."

I was walking in a straight line towards something that did not belong in these woods. A figure stood silhouetted against the black, formless ice, staring back at me. I saw no eyes or other defining features, yet he watched me. He was analyzing me. Sizing me up. His back was straight and alert, and his limbs were firm at his side. The cold did not affect him.

I despised him.

"Finally, it is time to determine your code phrase. To activate your new technique, first think of the key. This takes the form of the three letters A, C, and T in sequence. Then, decide upon a unique word or phrase that will allow you to quickly activate your new move! For example, your activation code could be 'ACT: Deep Freeze!'"

This figure should not have been here. It reeked of paradoxical contradictions stacked upon heaps of putrid musings of the past. A world I once knew surged within its face like a black hole, threatening to suck me in. White weeped in the presence of black. Cold melted in the blaze of heat.

It singed my skin. I screamed in retaliation.

…

Uh…

Right, this is uh…where I come up with a code phrase…

Um…

Fudge Cakes…?

Sure, that works.

With my scream came an utterance of a spell—a curse. "By my name I declare thee extinguished! Broken beyond repair! Lost to oblivion!" My maw exploded with wispy needles piercing my gums, in and out in the rhythm of a sewing needle. I screamed until my voice became hoarse. I screamed until my voice ceased to exist.

ACT: Fudge Cakes!

There was a flash. An overwhelming blindness. Though really, what I perceived as a sudden absence of darkness became overshadowed by an abundance of snow rising ever higher. My target had been destroyed. It had fallen from my strike.

And then, in the blink of an eye, I was on the ground again.

What was once beautiful snow was now a sky awash with stars. Pure black speckled with fervent pinks and blues, a painting of cosmic proportions. That was my world from then on. Forever.

I was numb. The cold had won. I laid there for all eternity with nothing but an endless expanse to comfort me. Stories beyond my wildest dreams just out reach, whispers of great joy and sorrow. And I swore, every so often, I could hear the stars regale their tales…

"Congratulations! You learned Ice Beam!"

(…)(…)(…)

I took off the headphones slowly. The sides of my head were moist with sweat.

Fenn's ears perked up immediately, his head raising from my shoulder. "O-Oswald?" he whispered, rubbing his eyes with the back of his paw. "Did the TM work?"

"I think?" I said. My head felt…weird. Something was swirling around in my noggin and it sure as hell wasn't local. I needed a moment to refocus. "Here, let me try and see…"

Fenn's flame vents sparked as he blurted out, "W-wait, not ye-"

But the funny thing about thoughts was, they were much harder to silence than spoken words once they started moving. I learned much too quickly just how fast I could activate this new move.

ACT: Fudge Cakes!

"He busted a hole in me dingy!"

Tusk was in hysterics over the damage, his claws pressed against his head as he stomped around in the dirt at random. The Croconaw's teeth gnashed together vigorously, lambasting his Corviknight steed in an accent so thick that I could barely understand what he was saying. He didn't seem mad at me for some reason, though.

Which I could understand, because I wasn't mad either. Staring at the Cosmo-sized hole in the cab, mere inches from where Tusk himself would have been, a sense of awe overtook me. The hole was nearly completely circular, cleanly cut out as though I had done so with a knife. I could only assume that there were cracks at its edges because it made no sense otherwise.

The blast shot true. Bits of frost still clung to the underside of the hole, and in a matter of seconds it had melted into pure water. The Ice Beam barely left any residue behind at all, but there was no doubt in my mind that whatever I hit felt it.

I stared slack jawed. Not too far away, Cosmo oo-ed and aw-d in complete amazement.

"Ah but ye can get yerself a new window!" guffawed the bird. Huge as he was, the way the Corviknight's red eyes glared was far from patronizing or intimidating. If anything they were warm and jubilant.

"I don't needs a new window!" Tusk wailed. "I 'ave two already!"

"Not one like this," the Corviknight said, pointing at the hole with his beak. "Maybe now ye can stop shoutin' over the winds."

Tusk stomped in fury. The Corviknight cackled. They bickered and bickered, their spat turning into nonsensical background noise for my inevitable ribbing by Finch. I wasn't looking forward to it, and neither was Fenn based on how his flame vents sparked in bursts.

The Krokorok turned to me, arms crossed and teeth flashing a jeering yellow. He said, "Ozzy, I get that you were a little excited, but did you consider not testing out your new move while we were still in the air?"

I expected this, but I also expected to give more of a damn than I did. Half of what he was saying didn't even register with me.

Fenn elbowed him, his eyes narrowed and his flame vents threatened to pop like balloons. "D-don't be mean, Finch," he muttered.

"I ain't being mean. It's common sense. You don't blast out ice when your buddies are seated right next to you. You ever do that yourself, Hot Stuff?"

Fenn's flame vents sputtered, the Quilava more than ready to steamroll Finch into tomorrow.

"You are just jealous!" Cosmo blurted out, his bubble expanding to twice its size. "That was awesome! Oswald is the greatest ice blaster in the world!" Cosmo floated between them in clear defiance and squishiness.

Finch rolled his black eyes.

"I did that…?" I finally whispered under my breath. Revulsion poked at my newly filled stomach, harshly swirling off and on. On, because I had somehow done it again in such a short amount of time. Off, because I was capable of such destruction.

I looked down at my paws. The pads were black, and pressed in when I clenched. Tiny pricks edged against the soft skin, one small push from piercing deep and drawing blood. Of course, I was a Dewott. Dewotts were capable of violence, with their claws sharp and lungs filled with an acidic spritz of deadly liquid.

I thought I already knew this. Pokemon were not inherently peaceful creatures—and that extended to me. It was just…wow. Wow, wow, wow. That hole was massive. How the hell did I do that?

In a moment of recollection, I blinked. A blush curled past my cheeks and under my fur down to the base of my neck. My chest itched.

"H-hey, I didn't mean to," I stammered out. "You didn't even tell me what the move would be when you gave it to me."

Finch saved us both an argument with a wave of his claw, saying, "Common sense. Like the common sense to ask before this happens-" he pointed a clawed thumb over his shoulder, "-not after."

He got me there. Not that my embarrassment was mitigated by that fact.

I frowned and grumbled, "I guess I'm just stupid, then."

When Finch waltzed up, I was immediately reminded of how much taller he was than me. At least a whole head more so. He placed his claw atop my head and, annoyingly, ruffled my hair. "You," he started, "are a hot mess, my good buddy."

Was it weird to say I nearly lunged out to bite him when he slid the claw over my head and sauntered off past me? I never had that inclination before. Not until now.

I even growled.

"I'll go sort things out with Tusk," said Finch. "Doesn't sound like it should be too long of a walk from here."

Probably would have been an even shorter walk if I wasn't an idiot, I thought grumpily.

Finch left and the fur on top of my head was a mess, and even trying to furiously ruffle it back into shape didn't cut it. Eventually, Fenn raised his paws to make me stop.

"H-here," he said tenderly, "I can-"

But before he could, Cosmo slipped between his arms right above our heads. "Wait! Cosmo wants to do it this time!"

Arms still raised, Fenn looked to me for approval.

I shrugged. "I don't think he could make it any worse."

We put that theory to the test. Cosmo's invisible hands shaped my head of hair like clay, throwing around strands and clumps with reckless abandon. I swear I caught a twig flying by in the middle of the process. In a few moments time, Fenn's snickering clued me in to the catastrophe that had been unearthed.

"All done!" Cosmo cheered. "Cosmo solved Oswald's hair!"

I cringed. "How does it look, Fenn?" I asked because I knew how it felt. The fact that I could use the word "sticky" in this instance did not give me high hopes.

Fenn covered his mouth with both paws, giggles escaping him at the same rate as embers from his forehead. He said, "I-it—hehe—looks great! You…tumbled through a tornado…a-and managed to lodge a Pidgey nest between your ears." The Quilava stifled an even larger laugh. "I-I like it, really!"

Yeah, that sounded about right. I gave Cosmo a thumbs-up and said, "Great job, buddy. I feel brand new."

Cosmo beamed.

At this point I just sat down in the dry dirt, my arms supporting my weight, not caring in the slightest about my blue fur being stained red. No reason to care if I was already a mess. I sighed deeply, belligerently.

"Hoowee, what a disaster," I breathed. "I'm sorry, guys."

The snickering stopped pretty quickly after that. Whether it was to get on my eye level or because he felt that it was only fair that he got dirty, as well, Fenn laid on his belly next to me. He rested his chin on my knee, specks of embers kissing my fur as they popped out irregularly. "O-Oswald, please," Fenn whispered. "It's…okay. I-I already said so."

Cosmo looked as though he was going to say something, that beaming of his fading into something more pensive. His mouth swung open and stayed open for several seconds. Noiselessly he floated down into my lap, apologizing with his eyes.

Kids rarely knew what to say in the worst of moments, but Cosmo had a knack for knowing when they wouldn't work. I commended him for that, at once recollecting all of the guilt I had ever felt in regards to the little guy. He deserved better than me.

"It's not okay," I said, staring up at the cloudy sky. "I don't know when we'll be able to go back. I don't know if we can."

I wondered if I should have taken back everything I said earlier about looking forward to tomorrow.

Fenn was quiet. A part of me wished he'd never speak again, because I knew his words would always be laced with his dissatisfaction over what I had done to ruin his life.

That voice, again, came out to play.

'He's upset with you, you know. He's just too much of a coward to say it.'

Fenn being a coward. Heh. Wouldn't that be convenient.

No, Fenn wasn't a coward. Far from it. He spoke up after a bit of time and deliberation.

"W-we…we can worry about that later," Fenn said. "Really, w-we're okay. Please stop worrying about it."

"Cosmo…agrees!" The Solosis popped up, reflecting sunlight into my eyes through the shininess of his bubble. "Oswald should not tink-a-ton if he wants to be a great hero and…do what he has to do in this desert. Yeah!"

I hated that I laughed at that.

I squinted at the sky. It was clear, with plush clouds sailing across the horizon at speeds I could hardly comprehend, pushed along by winds comfortable enough to be amicable in the mild heat. "I guess you're right…"

A thought crossed my mind right then. In between all the vomiting and running around, the thought had previously been pushed back. No one else seemed concerned about it, so I didn't bring it up. Not until now.

"...Fenn," I said apprehensively, "were we not followed?"

The Quilava tensed. He raised his head with ears perked. "U-um…" He craned his head around, up and down, before returning to me with no news. "I-I don't know."

"Well that's…weird."

"Yeah…"

Huh.

Just as quickly as it started, our conversation ended at the behest of Finch's alerting shout.

"Hey! Let's head out! We don't want to be in the air when it gets dark!"

The Krokorok was a bit of a ways away when Fenn, Cosmo, and I turned our heads to face him. With his claw he motioned for us to follow him through the shallow bush parallel to a nearby river. I couldn't see where he was headed, but the confidence in which he walked told me he understood where he was going. Tusk and that Corviknight were busy bickering over the sky cab, still.

Hesitantly, Fenn and I exchanged glances, and then got to our feet. Cosmo wasn't far behind.

"Worry about that later, too?" I asked in a staggered voice.

Fenn nodded. Although his fire was snuffed out, his gait reminded me of our times in the mystery dungeons a couple weeks back. He was ready to pounce into action, the muscles showing ever so slightly under the fur. I didn't like it.

"Back into danger once again," Cosmo said under his breath. "Oooh Cloudcutter's gonna be so jealous…"

I exhaled sharply.

I sure hope not.

Author's Note - 1/15/2025

Uuuuuughhhhh it's done. Uuuuuugggghhhhhh.

I've come to hate the holidays, if only because I have to ration out my time and motivation like I'm in the apocalypse. This was a weird one for me in that regard. I can't say I'm entirely happy with it, but blah blah blah par for the course at this point.

Anyway, it's been 4 years since I started this story. I'm getting so OLD. My bones are cracking as I type this uuuuggggghhhhhhh.

Thanks for reading, though. And thanks once again to my betas: Bonehead, Dust_Scout, and Timelocke.

See you next time, whenever that is.