I May Never Reach You

by Lone Diamond

She's on a journey to rediscover her past. He's there to help her find herself. And whatever's in their eyes won't go away.

7. Chapter 7

The metallic bench beneath me felt colder than the snow outside, spreading through my coat the moment I sat down.

I clutched the ticket in my hand, staring at the empty boarding gate ahead.

Then, the realization shot through me like an arrow.

I never told Calem where I was going.

I said I was going home… but I never said where home was.

I brought my free hand up to my chest, trying to catch the pieces of me that had fractured under the weight of my self-doubt.

I've really done it now.

I've broken us both.

The intercom blared overhead, muffled by the dull roar of voices and footsteps. People shuffled around me as the line for boarding grew shorter, the pressure of the moment closing in. The flight would leave soon, and I would be gone. There was no turning back.

What other choice did I have?

We could have stayed by each other's sides, but the truth is… I don't know if I can be the person he needs, as much as I want to be that person for him.

The ticket is in my hands.

I stepped into the line, moving forward with my back turned to the Academy, and with each step, I felt the distance between me and him grow, the last thread of something I was too scared to hold onto slipping through my fingers.

The attendant scanned my ticket without much of a glance, and I stepped onto the jet bridge, the hum of the plane's engines thrumming faintly in the distance.

I took my seat by the window, looking out at the home I was leaving behind. The sky was pitch black, the moon now making its way back down to trade places with the sun.

Seatbelts buckled around me as the captain and the flight attendants addressed the safety protocol, droning on for what felt like a long time.

As the presentation concluded, the engines roared to life, and the plane slowly began to coast down the runway. I gripped the armrest as the aircraft pulled forward, gaining speed.

The wheels lifted from the ground, and Kalos shrank beneath me, disappearing behind the clouds as if it had never been there at all.

The cabin lights dimmed as we climbed higher, leaving the world below in silence. I pulled the tray table down, letting my arms rest on it as I buried my face in my hands.

Nothing about this plane ride offered me any comfort, but I surrendered to my exhaustion, unable to keep myself awake.

…

The hum of the landing gear rattled me awake.

I blinked against the afternoon sunlight streaming through the cabin windows, my neck stiff and my arms numb from the dreadful position I'd slept in.

I lifted my head slowly, wincing at the dull ache radiating from my shoulders. The seatbelt sign dinged softly overhead as the captain's voice crackled through the intercom, welcoming us to Castelia City.

I squinted at my phone screen, the time glaring back at me. 3:07 PM.

I must have slept through the entire flight.

My eyes burned, and not just from lack of restful sleep. Everything felt surreal. The descent, the unfamiliarly familiar skyline stretching out beneath me, the gentle rocking as the plane glided down the runway.

I rubbed my face with the sleeve of my coat, trying to shake the fog from my mind.

Kalos felt like a dream I'd just woken up from.

I made my way off the plane and through the airport, ensuring that the belongings in my suitcase remained untouched at the baggage claim.

The door to the airport slid open, and I stepped off to the side of the entrance, into the cool, crisp air of Castelia City. The winter breeze hit me immediately, the sharpness of it waking up my senses.

Glass and steel towers huddled together, illuminated by the late afternoon light. I breathed in the familiar scent of my childhood: part salty ocean breeze, part exhaust, with a hint of freshly-grilled hotdogs from a nearby vendor.

Home.

I decided to immerse myself in the crowd. People from every direction moved around me, some hurrying to their destinations, others leisurely strolling. Department store mascots danced outside of their establishments, advertising the countless holiday deals to potential shoppers.

Maybe I had come here to escape… but it was hard to deny the comfort of being in the city I'd been born in.

The skyline seemed to embrace me as it always had, as if Castelia had been waiting for me to return all these years, offering me solace in its familiarity.

I dropped by a pizza parlor, ordering a slice of pepperoni with a little "extra pep" and a can of lemonade to go. I thought I'd embrace the freedom of eating while walking here in Castelia, as it felt like a small indulgence for me, allowing me to keep exploring my hometown without stopping altogether.

I walked further into the heart of the city, my feet guiding me toward Thumb Pier without any real plan. The cold wind tugged at my coat, but I barely noticed. I was lost in the swirl of memories, each corner of Castelia carrying echoes of my past, the concrete clicking under my feet.

I rounded the corner towards the pier, the ocean breeze thicker now, carrying with it the scent of saltwater and the sound of water lapping at the edges. I could hear the faint laughter of children, and as I turned, I saw a family.

A father lifting his little boy up onto his shoulders, a mother smiling as she pointed out something in the distance, holding an older boy's hand. Their joy seemed to ripple through the air, and I paused, watching them for a moment.

The world felt still for a second.

It was at that moment that the memory of my own parents hit me like a wave.

I hadn't called them since I'd left Kalos.

I'd been so focused on everything else, the flight, the overwhelming feeling of returning to Castelia, and the quiet ache in my chest, that I'd completely forgotten to let them know I'm here.

I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my phone, flipping it open. I scrolled through my contacts, pausing over my mother's number to hit the dial.

The phone rang once, twice.

Then, Mom's voice greeted me, warm and familiar, "Good morning, Serena! Okay, maybe not so much of a morning anymore, since we're approaching noon… but anyhow! How are you doing? Are you done with finals?"

It took me a second to remember that there's a time zone difference, but I carried on with the call, "Hi, Mom. I'm doing okay. I'm done with finals, so I've got a few weeks off before I head back to school."

"That's good to hear!" She replied, her voice always carried a little bit of joy when she spoke to me. "So, are you on your way back home now?"

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. The city was sprawling before me, but I felt strangely distant, like I wasn't quite there. "Actually, I'm... in Castelia City. By myself."

Mom's voice shifted, and I could almost hear her frowning, though I knew she was trying not to sound worried. "Oh, Castelia? What are you doing there, sweetheart? Did you go for a visit, or...?"

I leaned against my suitcase, sighing quietly, unsure of how to explain. "It's a bit complicated, Mom."

She waited a beat, sensing that there was more to the story. "I see. You don't have to tell me everything if you're not ready."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "I just needed to get away for a bit... you know, clear my head."

Her tone softened, filled with understanding. "I'm glad you're taking time for yourself, but I wish you had let me know before you went. I'm not mad, but I'm a little worried about you."

"I know, Mom." I whispered. "It's just that… I don't want to burden you or Dad or… or anyone."

There was a long pause on her end before she spoke again, "You don't have to figure everything out on your own, Serena. You're not a burden on any of us." She let out a soft sigh. "Listen, I have a loft that you can stay at in Castelia. It's small, but it's quiet and safe. I'm more than happy to send you the keycard through the PC, and you can rest there as long as you need to. It'll be a peaceful space for you to catch your breath."

I blinked, surprised by her offer. A part of me had been expecting her to tell me I should come home right away, but this? It felt like a lifeline.

"I… you're sure?" I asked, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I don't want to impose."

"You're never imposing, dear." Her voice was soft but firm. "You know that. I'll go to a Pokémon Center to transfer the keycard in a few minutes. It'll be waiting for you in your box." She paused. "You don't need to rush through processing your emotions. Take all the time you need, okay?"

"Thank you, Mom. I don't know if I can fully explain it, but... that means a lot to me."

"I'm here for you, always," she said, her tone gentle but filled with so much love. "We'll talk when you're ready."

I nodded even though she couldn't see me. "I will. I'll get there as soon as I can."

"Take care, Serena. I'll be here if you need me."

With one last comforting pause, we said our goodbyes. The phone clicked as I ended the call, and I stood there for a moment, just letting the offer sink in.

I took a breath and adjusted my coat, the air around me feeling just a little less heavy.

I walked back down the pier to get to the Pokémon Center, where the keycard to Mom's loft would be deposited to, the weight of my suitcase trailing behind me with each step.

The sun hung lower in the sky, tinting the glass skyscrapers with warm streaks of gold and orange. Even as winter crept in, Castelia never slowed down… especially not at this hour.

People flooded the sidewalks, weaving around each other as office buildings emptied out for the day. The hum of traffic echoed from every direction, and I tucked my chin into my collar, keeping my head low as I navigated through the crowd. I wasn't in the mood to stand out or draw attention.

The Pokémon Center sat at the corner of the block, a familiar red entrance standing out against the towering buildings around it. When I stepped inside, the automatic doors slid shut behind me, muffling the noise of the city.

The Center was bright and bustling, trainers and travelers gathering around the counters or resting on the lounge chairs. I moved quietly to one of the PCs stationed against the wall, using my Trainer ID to log in.

My fingers hovered over the touchscreen for a second before selecting Mom's mail from the menu. A soft mechanical whir followed, and after a few moments, a small compartment clicked open beneath the screen. I pulled out the Mosaic Mail envelope that held the keycard, which I slipped into my coat pocket.

I lingered for a moment, staring at the PC screen as if it could somehow offer answers to the questions I hadn't quite figured out yet. But there was nothing left to do here.

Stepping outside again, the air felt sharper, but I welcomed the cold against my face. Castelia's streets were even more crowded now, but I kept close to the edge of the sidewalk, moving steadily toward the residential district.

The loft wasn't far, now.

The building Mom mentioned in her letter was tucked away somewhere past Castelia Street, far enough from the main roads to escape the brunt of the city's noise. When I finally found it, I paused at the entrance, looking up at the tall windows reflecting the dimming sky.

The keycard slid easily into the slot by the door, and with a soft click, the lock disengaged.

The lobby was quiet, save for the faint hum of the elevator at the far end. I rode it up to the fourth floor, each second stretching longer as exhaustion tugged at me.

When I reached the loft, I unlocked the door once again using the keycard, letting it close gently behind me.

The space was as small as Mom had described, but it was cozy, with a minimalist touch that immediately reminded me of her. Pale curtains filtered the light from the balcony, and the scent of freshly cleaned linens and chamomile hung faintly in the air. A bed sat neatly by the far window, and I barely managed to tug my suitcase inside before sinking onto the mattress.

The city buzzed faintly outside, but here, it felt far away, like I was back in Vaniville's countryside.

I stepped out of my clothes and into one of Mom's fluffy pink bathrobes, too lazy to put on proper sleepwear.

I sent Mom an email to thank her for letting me use her space, and set my phone down on the nightstand, borrowing her charging cable.

The gentle hum of the nightstand's lamp and the soft quiet of the room lulled me into a deep and dreamless sleep, claiming me sooner than I'd anticipated.

…

By the time I woke up, the sun's early evening light was filtering softly through the curtains. I blinked against it, disoriented by the clock ticking past the end of the workday on the bedside table.

I hadn't meant to sleep so long, but my body desperately needed this.

After freshening up, I changed into a comfortable set of clothes and pulled on my coat, deciding to venture out. The walls of the loft were starting to feel too quiet, and I could really use a cup of milk tea right about now.

I remembered a flyer from yesterday, half-crumpled and stapled to the bulletin board at the Pokémon Center. It wasn't flashy, but the name of a certain café stuck with me, like I would find something there that I would find fascinating.

Café Sonata.

I thought about the café's address, hidden away in a quiet corner off of Narrow Street, the only place in Castelia that my parents would never let me play in when I was younger.

Their warnings echoed in the back of my mind as I stood at the entrance to Narrow Street from the main road. Street lamps flickered and busted neon signs adorned the graffitied walls, but I felt myself drawn into the darkness. Like a calling.

I came to Castelia to find myself, did I not?

Yet, here I was, standing at the threshold of the unknown.

I crossed it.

I slid my hands into my coat pockets, fingers brushing the cool, familiar surface of Elgyem's Poké Ball. Just in case.

The street narrowed as I walked further in, the walls pressing closer like they were curious about the lone figure daring to trespass. Shadows stretched unnaturally long, and the ground was uneven, asphalt cracked from years of neglect.

A pair of eyes regarded me from a side alley. I didn't slow down.

There were others too. Shadows slouched against brick, cigarette smoke puffing out from behind dumpsters. None of them spoke, but I felt their gaze trace the length of my stride. I kept my shoulders squared and head high.

I knew the rules here.

The trick is to look like you belonged, like the thought of turning back had never crossed your mind.

By the time the faint notes of piano music threaded through the air, the tension in my chest loosened. Café Sonata's warm light spilled faintly onto the chipped pavement ahead, barely reaching the street, like it wasn't meant to.

I stopped for just a second, taking in the unassuming entrance: plain red wooden doors beneath a faded sign, flaking around the edges. No bright displays. No attempt to lure people in.

It felt like the kind of place you had to find by accident… or fate.

A soft chime jingled above the door as I stepped inside.

Café Sonata was just as understated as I imagined. Soft jazz hummed from the speakers, and the scent of espresso hung in the air, mixed in with the fragrance of aged hardwood.

Only a few tables were scattered across the room, most of them empty. A bar stretched along the far wall, and behind it there were canisters of tea, coffee, and bottles of syrup that adorned the shelves.

I walked right up to the bar, placing an order for my signature milk tea. The manager got it done in no time, insisting that I accept my beverage on the house, since it was my very first visit.

I thanked him, turning around to find a place to sit and enjoy my drink.

There weren't many patrons at this hour, but someone immediately caught my eye, lounging at a corner table hugging the wall.

Grimsley, from the Unova Elite Four.

I knew who he was instantly, since I had studied up on all the Pokémon Leagues and their Gym Leaders. He had the kind of presence that stood out: dark hair framing his face, the sharp red-and-black patterned suit that contrasted the bright yellow scarf draped around his neck.

His pale eyes studied me, the ghost of a smile hovering upon his face.

I met his gaze for a beat longer than I intended.

His eyes narrowed, and he leaned back slightly, tapping one finger against the edge of a roll-up Go board in front of him, the black-and-white stones scattered across its surface like pieces in an unfinished puzzle.

I recognized the game, though I'd only played a handful of times with Dad when I was younger.

Without breaking eye contact, Grimsley gestured to the empty seat across from him with a lazy sweep of his hand, like he'd been expecting me all along.

I paused, milk tea warming my palms, but my feet had already started moving.

As I sat down, the low light of the café softened the sharp angles of his face. Up close, Grimsley's presence wasn't just commanding… it was unnerving. He had the air of someone who could disappear into quiet places like this, yet somehow own them if he decided to stay.

"Good evening, Grimsley." I said, setting my drink down. "I didn't know you were a fan of Go."

His smirk now emerged from the corners of his mouth. "I like games of chance and strategy. Even Go has its gambles... as I'm sure you know."

I glanced at the board. His setup wasn't random. It was a teaching game. One where he led with a slight advantage, offering a path forward to anyone willing to play against him. "I think I'll take you up on your challenge. Though, I'd like to know what the stakes are."

Grimsley rested his chin on one hand, eyes flicking toward me with faint amusement. "There are no stakes for this match. I simply desire to test your mettle. If you do well, I'll leave you with something to think about. If not, well... you'll still walk away a little wiser."

I slid the nearest white stone between my fingers, feeling its weight. The smooth surface was cool, yet the incontestable energy within it burned through my fingertips.

I then placed it down with a soft tap.

His eyes sharpened, but he said nothing.

We began to play.

The stones settled against the board, filling the space between us with a steady rhythm.

Grimsley's gaze stayed on the game, but I could feel him watching me in that peripheral, unspoken way, measuring each decision I made, like he was waiting for me to misstep.

I matched his pace, letting instinct lead my hand more than any formal strategy.

Grimsley's movements were fluid, deliberate. He wasn't rushing, but he wasn't pulling his punches either.

I set another stone down, blocking a corner he'd been angling for.

His finger hung over the board, just for a second. Then he placed his next piece further along the edge, shifting his approach without a word.

The board was nearly full now, the once scattered stones forming intricate patterns of capture and defense.

I placed another white stone, sealing off the last opening in his territory.

Grimsley's eyes traced the board, his finger drifting above the remaining spaces as if searching for something he already knew wasn't there.

After a moment, he leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. A quiet chuckle escaped his lips. "Well, that's that."

I tilted my head. "You're not making another move?"

His pale eyes met mine, glinting. "No need. I know a losing board when I see one."

I glanced down, studying the layout carefully. "But this was a teaching game, wasn't it?"

Grimsley's smirk deepened. "At first."

He reached out, tapping the edge of the board lightly with two fingers.

"But somewhere around here…" he gestured to a cluster of stones near the center, "You turned it into something else. I didn't expect you to cut me off like that."

I straightened slightly, the weight of his words sinking in. "So you weren't guiding me to victory," I said slowly. "I actually won."

Grimsley nodded. "And that's not something I let happen often."

His gaze lingered on me for a beat longer, contemplative but not unkind.

"You're Serena Montresor." he said at last, as if the realization had just fallen into place. "Caitlin and Lucian once mentioned having a daughter with a sharp mind and strong intuition. You must be her."

"That's correct." I smiled, crossing my arms.

"You don't look like you're here to play games, though," Grimsley mused, flipping a token in his hand. "You look... like you're searching for something." His eyes locked on mine with a subtle challenge. "I wonder what you're looking for here, Serena?"

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. I shuffled in my seat, suddenly aware of the quiet intensity in his voice.

I kept my expression even, though I could feel the weight of his gaze pressing just beneath the surface. "The wind brought me here." I replied, lifting my milk tea for a slow sip. "And I wanted to take the path less travelled."

"Well said. It's been a long time since I've met someone like you. Someone who tends to blur the line between fate and chance intentionally... among many other things."

I met his gaze head-on. "Is that so?"

His smile thinned, and for a brief moment, there was a flicker of something more guarded beneath the surface. "People tend to show me either reflections or shadows. But every now and then…" He rested his chin on his hand. "I see someone willing to gamble with more than just stones on a board, or cards on a table."

The café's soft hum seemed louder in the pause that followed.

I arched my brow. "What do you see now?"

"Potential." Grimsley laughed silently.

He thumbed the token again, spinning it idly in his hand, but his attention was fully on me now.

"Well," he said with a slight grin, "I've enjoyed this game we've played. I won't pressure you, but if you'd like, I'll be here tomorrow. Same time, same place."

I appear to have found an unexpected ally in Grimsley.

He doesn't offer the opportunity to gamble with just anybody.

I set my finished cup of milk tea down slowly, a deliberate gesture to match the gravity of the moment.

"I'll be here." I declared.

Grimsley chuckled, his gaze never leaving mine. "See you then."

I stood up and gathered my belongings, the atmosphere of Café Sonata pressing on me. As I stepped outside, the cool air hit me, a clear reminder of reality, urging me to consider the new possibilities that lie ahead.

For once, the uncertainty didn't faze me.

The elevator's soft hum as it ascended to the loft was the only sound that accompanied me. I stepped into the loft, digging through the cabinets to find something to eat. I retrieved a can of spicy chili, and decided to heat up its contents in the microwave, too lazy to go through all the effort of setting up the stove.

As the bowl of chili spun around in the microwave, my thoughts circled back to my game of Go with Grimsley.

He must have known who I was the moment I walked into the café, but it wasn't until after I had bested him that he had addressed me by name.

The chili had finished cooking, so I waited for it to cool down before handling, not wanting to get burned.

After my chili had cooled, I made my way to the balcony, bowl in hand, sliding the door open and stepping into the breezy night air. Castelia's skyline stretched out before me, an abundance of lights against the dark velvet of the sky.

The city was alive, bustling even at this hour. I leaned against the railing, absorbed into its ambience.

And though I felt alone…

I belonged to it.

My encounter with Grimsley had sparked something in me, something I hadn't even realized was missing, but there were still so many things I hadn't figured out.

He said that he saw potential within me… but could I see it now, when I looked at myself, through my own eyes?

It was a strange thing to question. and I couldn't help but wonder if this was truly what I had been searching for all along.

When I finished eating the bowl of chili, I glanced into my reflection in the glass on my way back in, and smiled when I saw it. A different kind of storm in my eyes.

I felt the electricity course through my veins.

I washed the empty bowl in the sink, letting it dry out on the absorbent mat, and turned off all the lights in the loft.

I watched the city lights dance through the gaps in the curtains before I fell asleep.

…

My body woke up at the routine I was used to.

Faint shadows scattered throughout the loft. I stayed under the covers for a moment longer, listening to the distant hum of Castelia below.

Then, I sat up to stretch, feeling the satisfying pull of muscles that had been too tense several nights before.

Today felt different.

Slipping out of bed, I wrapped myself in a light cardigan and padded toward the fridge. Breakfast first.

The fridge wasn't stocked with much, just enough for the essentials. I settled for two slices of toast and some cream cheese spread, not particularly hungry.

Once breakfast was finished, I changed into my usual battle gear: lightweight, warm, and breathable enough for whatever the day would throw at me.

Castelia's parks were often bustling with trainers by mid-morning, and I could already hear the distant excitement of battles echoing in the streets below.

I stepped out onto the balcony briefly, gazing over the city. The skyline unfolded endlessly, and for a moment, I considered wandering down to the harbor just to let the breeze wash over me.

But battling felt more fitting today. I needed the motion, the strategy.

Grabbing my Poké Balls, I made my way down to the street. The day stretched out before me, and I intended to use every hour of it.

I was heading to the park, taking in the cool morning air, when a loud commotion caught my attention. I turned a corner and found a small crowd gathered around a butcher's stand, a burly man waving his arms in frustration.

"Thief!" he yelled, pointing at a flash of blue and black darting through the alleyway.

I squinted. A small Riolu, with sausage links dangling from its tiny paws, was making a mad dash for freedom.

I paused for a moment, watching the scene unfold. The Riolu was quick, weaving between pedestrians with ease, practically teasing the butcher with every leap.

I had never been in a situation like this before, but I couldn't just stick around like some bystander. I had to do something. Besides, the audacity of the little thief, the absolute confidence in its mischievous eyes, provoked something within me.

I couldn't let this one get away with it.

"Hold it!" I called, stepping forward into the middle of the street, hands on my hips. The Riolu skidded to a halt, its green eyes darting up to meet mine as if calculating whether it could still make a run for it. The butcher grunted in frustration, stopping a few feet away.

The moment Riolu hesitated, I pounced.

I made a quick step to the side, catching the Pokémon off guard. In one fluid motion, I reached out and plucked one of the sausage links from its mouth, holding it just out of reach.

The Riolu growled in surprise, its small fists clenched. But instead of the chaotic, panicked escape it had been planning, it was now locked in a stand-off with me.

"Don't even think about it." I grinned, waving the sausage in front of its face. "You've already caused enough trouble."

The butcher, who had been breathing heavily, approached slowly, eyes narrowed. "That's mine! The nerve of this little rascal, stealing my hard work..."

I gestured to the butcher, holding out a few bills with my free hand, not breaking eye contact with the Riolu. "Apologize to him, and I'll give it back. You might have been fast enough to swipe the sausage, but it won't score you any points with me."

The Riolu stared at me, then at the butcher, who was now glaring at it. The tension stretched for a moment, before the Pokémon let out an exasperated sigh and lowered its head, clearly annoyed. It bowed to the butcher, then turned back around to look at me.

The butcher was taken aback, blinking as he collected the money from my hand. "...Well. Thanks, miss."

As the butcher returned to his stand, I handed Riolu the sausage. "There. Peace restored."

The Riolu, however, wasn't done. It circled around me, a small, hopeful whine escaping its throat.

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. "What else do you want? Aren't you going to enjoy your stolen sausage?"

The Riolu, tail wagging slightly, gave a pleading look, its puppy-dog eyes impossible to resist. It pointed to me with its paw, as if telling me it wanted to become friends.

"Really? I've got a full team already. There's no room for you."

The Riolu made a show of sitting down dramatically, crossing its arms and puffing out its chest as if demanding I make a decision.

"You just won't walk away, huh?" I sighed, but then smiled as the little Pokémon's antics made me feel a flicker of warmth. "You're making a mistake, but I'll let you follow me around so you get a glimpse of what you might be getting yourself into. If you're still serious about joining me, after all of that, then I'll consider recruiting you."

Without hesitation, the Riolu leaped up and began to trot happily beside me, still wagging its tail like it had won a prize.

I smirked as I looked down at it, shaking my head as we continued down the street. "Let's see what you've got, Riolu."

We finally arrived at the park, where the paths weaved through patches of snowy grass and open benches. A few early joggers passed by, while others were gathered in small groups, chatting or stretching before their own activities. I found a quiet spot under a bare tree, settling down on a bench and motioning for Riolu to come closer.

"Alright, get up here. Let's have a chat," I said, patting the space beside me. The little Pokémon bounded up to me eagerly, its eyes sparkling with excitement.

"So, tell me about yourself. Are you a girl, or a boy?"

Riolu jumped down from the bench, its tail wagging as it twirled around in front of me. It paused for a second, as if gathering its thoughts, then pointed to itself, curtsying as if it was wearing a dress.

"Wait a second…" I squinted. "You're a girl, aren't you?"

Riolu nodded excitedly, pressing its paws together. I leaned back, laughing, "I should've known. You move around like a dancer in the street!"

Riolu straightened up at the compliment, puffing her chest out proudly.

"Well, that's good to know." I rubbed my hand against my chin. "Alright then. Show me what you've got. What kind of moves do you know?"

Riolu didn't need to be asked twice. She took a few steps back, her eyes gleaming with focus. Without warning, she jabbed at the air with her paw, unleashing a powerful blast of energy that sent a small gust through the grass around us.

"Force Palm, huh?" I said, impressed. "Not bad."

Riolu grinned, pleased with herself. She then held up both paws, her face concentrating, before mimicking my earlier move with a playful grin, her tail wagging furiously as she seemed to copy my gestures perfectly.

"Copycat? You're full of surprises."

With a swift flick of her paws, Riolu let out a loud, high-pitched squeal that made the air around us vibrate. I winced slightly at the noise, but Riolu seemed to revel in it, looking at me with a triumphant expression.

"That was definitely Screech." I chuckled, rubbing my ear. "You really know how to announce your presence, don't you?"

Finally, Riolu twirled in place, her body spinning before she jumped into the air and landed with a graceful yet powerful thud, tossing an imaginary opponent over her shoulder in an elegant motion.

"Circle Throw!" I clapped. "You've got some good technique, I'll give you that."

Riolu stood tall, chest out, a proud smile plastered across her face as she finished her little demonstration. She looked at me expectantly, tail wagging in anticipation.

"Alright, Riolu." I said, nodding with approval. "You've got a good mix of moves. Force Palm is powerful, Copycat could come in handy, and Screech can help lower our opponent's defenses. But most importantly, Circle Throw would be great for turning the tide of battle."

Riolu's tail wagged even harder at my praise, and I could see the pride in her eyes. She'd shown me what she was capable of, and for once, I was actually starting to see the spark in her that made her worth keeping around.

"Your current stats as a Riolu aren't doing you much justice, though. You're capable of learning even more powerful moves upon evolving. But we've got to get you there, first."

Riolu gave an excited bark, bouncing up and down beside me, as if she had already won me over.

I hadn't planned on adding anyone to my team, but watching her light up over every bit of praise reminded me of why I started this journey in the first place. I had always wanted to know what it was like to bond with a Pokémon, and I had a feeling that Riolu and I were kindred spirits.

I shook my head, smiling. "Alright, you've got me… you're stuck with me now."

And just like that, the little Pokémon trotted beside me, eager and ready for whatever came next.

I trained with Riolu for hours in the park, battling just about everyone I saw until the salarymen had started to crowd the paths after a long day's work.

It's almost time to meet Grimsley.

"Let's go pick out a Poké Ball for you, Riolu. I should be able to make space for you in my party, as well, while we're there." I called out to her. She scurried towards me, successfully avoiding all of the foot traffic that was starting to pick up.

We ran all the way to the other end of the city to get to the Pokémon Center, where Riolu picked out a Quick Ball to be put into.

I tapped her on the head lightly with her selection, summoning a white flash of light that pulled her in. The capsule clicked upon the first roll, and I made my way over to the PC to deposit Malamar to add Riolu.

I then summoned Riolu again, glancing down at her. She looked pleased with herself, having made the most out of the day by sparring with park trainers and showing off her Copycat more times than I could count.

"You sure know how to keep me on my toes," I said, nudging her lightly with my foot. "Welcome to the team, Riolu."

She silently cheered, following me closely as we walked back out to the crowded streets. The city lights flickered to life one by one, casting a warm glow over the pavement. Street musicians strummed their guitars from a nearby plaza, mixing in with the chatter of pedestrians. There was something comforting about the rhythm of it all, like the city itself had settled into a song only I could hear.

Riolu tugged at my pant leg, pointing to a snack cart with an eager gleam in her eye. I sighed, fishing out a bill to buy her a small bag of Poké Puffs.

"You've earned it," I said, handing her the treats.

She happily snatched the bag and tore into it with the same enthusiasm she had when stealing sausages earlier.

I adjusted my holster, feeling the familiar weight of my Poké Balls inside, and turned down the next street. I slowed my pace, lingering just a little at the entrance to Narrow Street.

"I'd like to hang out more, but I've got to put you away for a while. Are you okay with that?" I asked Riolu, watching as she swallowed the last of her snack. She wiped her mouth with her paw, giving me a determined nod. "Alright then. Riolu, return."

The Quick Ball snapped shut, shrinking in my hand. I entered Narrow Street, and before long, the red entrance of Café Sonata came into view. I pushed open the café door, the faint chime signaling my arrival.

And at the same spot as yesterday, Grimsley sat, spinning his token between his fingers.

His eyes caught mine immediately. A slow, knowing smile crept onto his face.

"You're right on time." he said smoothly, gesturing to the seat across from him.

"Of course. It'd be rude to keep you waiting." I replied, folding my arms.

Grimsley placed the token down in front of him. "I hope you're ready. I don't intend to allow your potential to remain untapped."

The cards flickered between Grimsley's fingers, blurring with each seamless cut and shuffle. His movements were deliberate, almost hypnotic, like a magician preparing for his next trick.

"This game is called The High Hand Gamble." he explained. "The rules are simple… in theory."

He spread his hands across the table.

"Two cards, face down. Your task is to identify the highest card of the pair. But… you won't have the luxury of guessing blindly."

He lifted the first card by the corner, just enough to let me glimpse it. A seven of spades. He lowered it immediately.

"Each round, you'll peek at one of the cards. From there, you decide whether to call the highest card or bluff. If you call correctly, you win chips. If you're wrong, you return them."

I leaned forward. "How much do I win or return?"

"That's the beauty of it. You choose the reward and penalty." His fingers tapped the top of the deck lightly. "Could be one chip. Could be several of them. But…" He paused, letting the silence stretch. "If I suspect you're bluffing… I can call you out. If I do, and you were bluffing, you lose double the chips you offered. If you weren't, I would lose double."

"And, there's one more rule," he said casually, lifting both cards for just a second before returning them to their places. "Once per round, I can swap the cards."

I narrowed my eyes immediately, "After I peek, correct?"

"It wouldn't be much of a misdirection otherwise."

"And I'm supposed to trust that you won't do it every single time?"

He shuffled the deck again. "Trust has very little to do with it. I'm limited to one swap. No patterns. No tells. I might not swap at all. The question is…" His eyes glistened with amusement. "Can you afford to believe me?"

I smiled, leaning forward on the table. "So, I'm gambling not just on the cards, but on credibility."

"Precisely." He smiled approvingly. "This game isn't just about numbers, Serena."

I nodded, gesturing to him to continue. "Deal."

His fingers danced along the deck, laying the next two cards face down.

…

Hours passed.

I had won a few rounds, and though I could feel the sweat trickling down my neck, I didn't flinch. I had honed my strategy and let my intuition guide me, watching Grimsley as much as the cards in front of me.

The last hand was dealt, and I had made my last decision. Grimsley didn't call my bluff. I reached for my last poker chip, weighing it in my fingers before adding it to my pile, which was now larger than Grimsley's.

He studied me for a long moment before tapping his fingers lightly on the table. "You've done well, Serena." His voice was even, but it carried a hint of satisfaction. "Better than I expected."

I raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure how to read him now.

But then, his tone shifted, a little more thoughtful, almost approving, "I'll be direct. You've passed my little test."

I blinked, waiting for more. He had been leading me through the game, after all, but it seemed he wasn't done yet.

"I wasn't wrong about your potential." Grimsley continued, leaning back slightly. "You can read the cards, the situation... but most importantly, you can read me." He paused, letting that sink in. "I had my doubts at first, thought maybe you'd be too impulsive, too impatient. But no. You're holding your own. The only thing you need to work on is trusting your instincts. And when you do, Serena... when you trust yourself, you'll win more than just this game."

His words gave me a strange sense of accomplishment, that electricity surging inside.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as though he was studying me one last time.

"So, what do you think?" He met my gaze again, this time with a knowing look. "Is this the path you wish to take?"

I took a deep breath, steadying myself before answering. Grimsley's eyes never left mine, patient but expectant. The weight of his question pressed me to make sense of everything swirling inside.

"I'm here because I'm figuring things out," I started, my voice steady but carrying a quiet conviction. "I wanted to experience something different, something outside of what I've known. I needed to find a way to feel... more connected to myself, to the world around me."

I paused for a moment, the words almost coming out faster than I could form them. "I've been running, in a way, terrified of uncertainty. And now, I'm trying to find a balance between who I was and who I can become."

Grimsley watched me intently, as though evaluating every syllable. He didn't press for more, which I appreciated. His silence was understanding, but it still felt like he could see through me, sensing the deeper layers beneath the surface.

"Gambling…" I added, the corner of my mouth lifting slightly, "Is not just about outcomes, it's about how much I'm willing to risk to move forward. Embracing uncertainty."

I met his gaze again, unwavering. "So to answer your question… Yes, this is the path I wish to take. I feel like I can move forward with everything you've taught me, Grimsley."

He smiled widely. "Well, then, Serena, it seems you're already ahead of the game."

Grimsley's eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, as if weighing the certainty in my answer. Then, with a smooth motion, he reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a small, sleek notepad. The faint scratch of his pen against paper filled the quiet space between us.

"Here, this is the address to my townhouse." he said, tearing off the slip with a precise flick of his wrist.

He held it out to me between two fingers, like a winning card at the end of a hand.

I accepted the slip from him, reading it. The address, scribbled in his elegant but unmistakable handwriting, stood out against the plain paper.

"I would like to invite you to stop by tomorrow evening." Grimsley said, leaning back slightly in his seat. His tone had softened, but there was still that deliberate edge to his words. "There, I'll show you what this life truly looks like. The peaks, the pitfalls… all of it. If you want to understand the nature of the gamble, you deserve to see it firsthand. Otherwise, you could lose much more than you wager."

I glanced down at the address in my hand, rolling it between my fingers. The weight of his offer settled in, heavier than I'd expected.

"I understand," I replied, my grip tightening slightly around the paper. "I'll be there."

"Good. I'll be expecting you." he affirmed, gathering the deck of cards with one hand.

I rose from my seat, slipping the address into the pocket of my coat. As I made my way toward the exit, my footsteps echoed behind me in the empty café.

I stepped out into the Castelia night, the slip of paper a reminder of the path I'd accepted. I couldn't stop looking at it the entire time I walked back to my mother's loft.

Once I got back, I set the address on the nightstand, and sat on the edge of the bed, calling Riolu to come out of her ball.

The little trickster yipped, looking up at me with those hopeful green eyes, keen on jumping into whatever came next.

"Where do you get all that energy?" I asked her, tousling her ears. She tilted her head and smiled, showing off her pearly white fangs.

I smiled back, feeling a warm wave of affection. She was so spirited, like she didn't care where she was as long as she was part of the action.

I leaned back on my hands, gazing at her. "Now that I think about it… I never actually told you my name, did I?"

Riolu blinked up at me, tail wagging slightly.

"I'm Serena." I brought a hand up to my chest. "You're my very first partner, you know that?"

Riolu gave a little bark of acknowledgment and hopped onto my lap, curling up like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I rested my hand on her back, feeling her small breaths rise and fall under my palm. It was strange… how easy it was to bond with her. I had respect for my mother's Pokémon, but I never really talked to them like this. They were part of the family, but not part of my life, maybe because I'd always seen them as extensions of her. But Riolu was different. She wasn't tied to anyone else's legacy. Just me.

I ran my fingers through her fur, feeling the soft rise and fall of her breath. She wasn't just my partner. She was the first Pokémon that felt like she belonged to this part of my life, not the one I left behind.

"You're pretty easy to talk to. I hope you don't mind me telling you more about myself," I said softly, my voice filling the quiet space of the loft. "Before I met you, I thought I was content pursuing my studies as an Ace Trainer. I didn't care much about battling until I realized how fun it was to win in unexpected ways and turn the tables. But even then… I thought being second-best at the academy meant I'd have it all figured out."

Riolu shifted, her green eyes steady on me. I let out a small breath, the weight of the thought lingering.

"I pushed harder, hoping that success would somehow shape who I was. But even when I reached that point, I didn't feel like I had gotten any closer to figuring things out."

Riolu didn't move, but I could feel her listening.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is… I think I'm okay with not knowing everything. For the first time in a long while, I feel like I'm moving forward because I want to, not because I'm trying to get back to where I was."

Riolu mewed softly, her tail thumping against my leg in agreement.

I smiled, ruffling her fur. "Yeah, you get it. You're here for the ride, huh?"

The faint sounds of traffic below drifted through the cracked window, a reminder that the city never truly slept. I leaned into it, letting the distant noise anchor me in the moment.

Even if there were still pieces missing, I was starting to feel whole again.

I lay back against the pillows, feeling Riolu circle twice at the foot of the bed before curling into a tight ball, her small frame rising and falling with each breath.

I pulled the blanket over my shoulders, the weight of Riolu at my feet comforting me.

"Goodnight, Riolu," I whispered, though I wasn't sure she was even awake to hear it.

The only response was a faint twitch of her ear.

I closed my eyes, and for the first time in a while, sleep came easily.

…

A horde of Pidove cooed from the rooftops as the sunlight tickled me awake. I sat up slowly, blinking as the light settled over the loft, trying to tame my unruly bedhead.

Riolu stretched at the foot of the bed, letting out a long yawn before hopping down. She padded over to the window, sitting in the patch of sunlight like she owned the place.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, letting out a content sigh.

Breakfast was simple. Just toast and a little bit of berry jam I found tucked in the back of the fridge. I set Riolu's bowl beside me, and she ate quietly while I stared out over the high-rises.

When we were both finished, I stood and glanced around the loft. The sunlight streaming through the windows highlighted specks of dust dancing in the air.

My mother didn't ask for anything in return when she let me use it, but I owed it to her to leave it just as I'd found it.

I rolled up my sleeves, tying my hair back. The scent of soap and old wood filled the air.

"Come on, Riolu," I whistled, grabbing the supplies. "Let's get to work."

Riolu tilted her head, curious, before taking the feather duster I handed her. She bounded onto the counter, her tail wagging as if this were a game.

I started with the dishes, scrubbing them one by one under warm, soapy water. The slight steam coming up to sweep my face was soothing. As I dried the wares with a cloth, I caught Riolu dusting the edge of a cabinet above me, her eyes following every move I made.

"You're throwing dust onto the clean dishes, you know!" I teased, flicking a drop of water at her.

She yipped in mock indignation, hopping back with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

The morning passed in a steady rhythm of sweeping, wiping, and dusting. The quiet bellow of the city outside was muted here, broken only by the sound of the broom gliding against the floor or the occasional chirp from Riolu as she darted about.

It felt good, this simple act of tidying… a deliberate kind of tranquility that let my thoughts drift without pulling me in too deep. For once, there was no pressure, no expectations. Just me and Riolu, making this space shine one last time.

By the time we finished, the loft gleamed. Riolu had taken to lounging on the windowsill, her small frame outlined by the vivid light spilling through. She stretched lazily, her reflection shimmering faintly in the glass.

I leaned against the counter, arms crossed, letting out a satisfied sigh.

"Not bad," I said, glancing at Riolu. "You're a good helper."

She wagged her tail, looking pleased with herself.

For a moment, I stood there, letting the peace settle over me.

I'm going to miss this. But I was ready now.

"Time to go."

I gave the loft one last once-over before locking up and heading to the Pokémon Center.

The building was busier now, with trainers hurrying about with their partners. Riolu stayed close, her little paws gripping the side of my suitcase like a guard protecting her treasure as I deposited the loft's keycard into my PC's storage.

I pulled my suitcase along as Riolu and I left the Center, its wheels rasping rhythmically behind me on the sidewalk as we walked out.

"Riolu," I said, glancing down at her, "I know Castelia's always been your home, and it's mine too. But... it's time for us to take that next step, to see what's beyond the city we've always known. We're headed to Kalos now."

Riolu tilted her head slightly, her ears twitching in curiosity as she looked up at me, eager to know more.

"Kalos…" I let the word hang in the air, the memories of that place coming back in a flood. "It's a region full of opportunities. It's where I started my journey as a trainer. I know it seems sudden, and it's going to be a big change for you, but I need to go back to finish what I started."

Her blue fur shimmered in the light of the sun.

"I know you'll like it there." I added, grinning at her. "I've always loved Kalos, so I guess you could say it's a second home for me. But why stop there? After I graduate from the Ace Trainer Academy, I'm going to take you all over the world, Riolu!"

Riolu's tail wagged gently, and she let out a soft bark, ready for whatever came next.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "And hey, remember! This was your choice! I warned you, but then you gave me those puppy eyes, and well, how could I say no?"

Riolu nuzzled my leg, the look in her eyes telling me that she'd always be with me, no matter where we go.

I smiled warmly, feeling that familiar bond between us. "Alright, dear friend. What do you say to giving this city a proper farewell tour? I'll even buy you a treat from that butcher's stand! But no stealing this time, okay?"

Riolu's tail wagged faster, and she gave me a playful nudge, ready to tackle the world with me. Treats included.

I led Riolu through the snow-dusted streets of Castelia, the familiar chill in the air biting at my cheeks, as the sights and sounds of the city sang out a melody to me. As we neared the butcher's stand, I could already smell the savory scent of fresh sausages wafting through the air. Riolu's ears perked up, and her eyes shone with excitement.

I reached into my pocket and handed her a few bills. "Here you go, Riolu. Hand this over to the butcher, and you'll get your sausages in return."

Riolu gave me a sheepish look, her tail wagging slowly. I smiled and nudged her forward. She scampered up to the counter and, after a few exchanges with the butcher, returned with a pack of sausages, her prize safely in her paws. She handed the money to the butcher with an almost comical sense of maturity, as if she'd done this a hundred times before.

"See?" I said, laughing. "Doesn't it feel good to do things the right way?"

She looked up at me, snickering at the reference. Her paw tore into the pack of sausages, and she held one out for me.

I accepted the sausage, biting off one end, "Sharing your winnings? I'm honored."

Riolu happily chewed away.

…

We walked toward the towering Castelia Library, its colossal stone columns stretching high into the sky. I loved how the building always felt like a beacon of knowledge, full of stories and secrets. As we stood before its grand entrance, I couldn't help but smile.

"This is where it all began for me," I said softly. "I used to come here with my dad when I was little, dreaming about the adventures I'd have one day. I remember reading about trainers from all over the world and imagining what it would be like to meet them."

Riolu trotted up beside me, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of the library. I could almost feel her curiosity bubbling inside her.

I looked at Riolu and winked. "Who knows? Maybe one day, we'll even write our own book. Or even better yet, the infamous Ghost Writer writes a story about us! Wouldn't that be nice?"

…

As we wandered down Mode Street, I slowed to peer through the shop windows. Displays of colorful fabrics and sparkling accessories caught my eye, stirring a memory from years ago.

"When I was little, I used to tell my mom I wanted to wear the big girl dresses," I said with a small laugh. "I couldn't wait to grow up and take on the world, to be just like my parents."

Riolu's ears perked up, her eyes following mine as I gazed at the elegant gowns.

"I haven't thought about those days in a long time," I went on. "But now that I think about it, my parents never pushed me to be like them. They always wanted me to carve my own path. They trusted me to stay in Kalos for Trainer School while they handled things in their respective regions. Darach checked on me sometimes, but for the most part, I was free to just be me." I glanced at Riolu with a soft smile. "It's funny how some things like that stick with you, huh?"

…

We reached Liberty Pier, where the cool breeze from the water greeted us. I took a deep breath, the salty air filling my lungs, as the sun cast a tawny glow over the waves.

"And here, we find ourselves at the very edge of Castelia…" I said out to the water below. "Soon, we will leave for Kalos. Are you as excited as I am?"

Riolu perched beside me, twitching her ears at my words. She watched the sunlight bounce off the water's surface before looking up at me, eyes reflecting quiet curiosity. Then, after a brief pause, she let out a small but firm bark, nodding once.

I smiled. "That's the spirit."

The wind picked up slightly, ruffling Riolu's fur and brushing strands of my hair across my face. I rested my arms on the railing, gazing out at the horizon. The thought of leaving Castelia stirred something deep inside me. It felt like I had been here for much longer than a few days.

But I knew I was ready with Riolu at my side.

I glanced down at her again, watching as she closed her eyes for a moment, sensing the energy around us in that way only she could. A soft chuckle escaped me. "You feel it too, don't you? The change in the air."

Riolu opened her eyes and met mine. This time, she didn't just nod, she stepped closer, pressing her paw gently against my leg.

I glanced at the time on my watch and realized it was almost time to meet Grimsley at his townhouse.

"Alright, Riolu," I said, crouching down to her level. "I'll let you rest for a bit before we leave. You've been moving around all day, helping me guard my suitcase, so I think you deserve a break."

I returned Riolu to her Quick Ball, the familiar warmth of her presence lingering even after she was safely tucked away. I turned to the path ahead, feeling the bittersweet weight of leaving Castelia behind. As I walked toward Grimsley's townhouse, I couldn't help but reflect on how far I'd come and how much further I still had to go.

…

The dim evening light cast long shadows across the street as I approached the townhouse. Its exterior was elegant but understated, a dark slate façade with deep red accents around the windows and doorframe. It stood out just enough to draw attention while still maintaining an air of mystery. I adjusted the strap of my suitcase and stepped up to the door.

I rapped the ornate door knocker against the wood. A moment later, the door creaked open to reveal Grimsley, dressed in a gray dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a black vest adorned with the four playing card symbols on its lapel, and a matching pair of dress pants. His usual polish was intact, but there was a looseness to him, a quiet ease that suggested I had arrived after a long day.

"Welcome, Serena. Please, make yourself at home," he said, stepping aside.

I nodded and stepped inside as he closed the door behind me. The air inside was warmer than I expected, carrying the faint scent of oak and something older, like aged leather. I set my suitcase off to the side, right by the door.

"I take it you're leaving Castelia?" Grimsley asked, already making his way toward the kitchen.

"Yes," I replied, following behind him. "I'll be leaving tonight. This is my last stop before I return to Kalos."

"Ah, I see." He stood behind the island, hands resting lightly on the counter.

The kitchen was compact and practical, its walls painted a muted brown. Past the other entrance, there was a dining room, or at least what should have been one. Instead, the space was occupied by furniture that either alluded to his gambling habits or served as places for guests to lounge.

Everything was covered in a thin layer of dust.

There wasn't a dining table in sight, which meant Grimsley must have used the kitchen island to eat, judging by the worn edges of the mahogany barstools. It was a quiet, lonesome existence, and for the first time, I saw what it meant for someone to live entirely by the game.

Grimsley captured my attention again as he set a glass in front of me, holding a bottle of red wine with both hands.

"Serena," he said smoothly, tilting the bottle slightly. "Would you prefer a glass of water or wine?"

I studied the bottle for a moment, then let my gaze drift back to him. His expression was unreadable, but the offer was deliberate.

Instead of answering, I reached for the glass of water that he had already set aside.

Grimsley chuckled, lowering the bottle slightly. "I suppose I should have known." He poured himself a glass of wine instead, swirling it lightly before taking a sip.

"Of course. What kind of student would I be if I couldn't resist temptation?"

That earned me a look of quiet amusement, but Grimsley didn't refute it. Instead, he set the bottle down, shifting his pale eyes toward the other room.

His voice took on a quieter edge, something more pensive. "These past few days, you've shown me a strength I don't often see. Most people stumble the first time they see the game for what it really is. But you?" He shook his head slightly. "You walk into the fire without flinching."

I didn't respond right away. I had agreed to this. To hear his truths, and to see the path for what it truly was. He was giving me exactly what I had asked for.

"It's not the games that ruin people," he continued after a moment. "It's what they're willing to bet on themselves. It's what they stand to lose when they don't know when to stop."

I let his words settle, absorbing the weight behind them.

"You're speaking from experience," I said finally.

Grimsley exhaled, tilting his head slightly. "I am." His voice wasn't bitter, but it wasn't exactly soft either. "I thought I could control it. I thought I knew when to walk away." He gestured vaguely toward the house, as if it was proof of his point. "But the problem with the game is that it doesn't stop when you leave the table. The need to chase the next win…" he paused, shaking his head slightly. "It doesn't end well for people like me. And I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

For the first time, I saw the cracks in his armor. This wasn't the usual well-crafted, enigmatic Grimsley, but the man beneath it. The one who had lost more than just his fortune.

He glanced at me then, his gaze sharp. "You have a bright future, Serena. An Ace Trainer's future. I wouldn't forgive myself if I let you walk into this world and the darkness swallowed you whole."

I met his gaze evenly. "I understand what you're saying."

A pause. Grimsley's expression flickered.

"Remember, I agreed to this," I continued. "I agreed to see the truth, and I want to understand the dark path I'm getting myself into, Grimsley. I still want to keep moving forward."

For the first time, I saw a flicker of something other than skepticism in his eyes, something closer to respect.

"Very well, then." he said, standing straighter. "Allow me to show you what lies ahead. Follow me."

Grimsley led me deeper into the townhouse, his polished shoes tapping softly against the hardwood floors. The warm glow of the lighting cast its shadows across the room, mimicking candlelight, giving it an ambiance that felt both inviting and mysterious.

"This way," he said, gesturing toward the room to the left.

The space was a study, but it looked more like a private museum. Framed photographs adorned the walls, each one capturing moments of triumph: Grimsley holding up championship trophies, shaking hands with other notable trainers, or standing alongside his Liepard, a smirk on his face that spoke of victory.

"I don't often show people this side of myself," he said, his voice measured as he motioned to the photographs and the trophies displayed on a nearby shelf. "But every gambler needs a reminder of their successes. These are the moments that made me who I am. They were hard-earned."

I stepped closer to one of the photographs, noticing the youthful confidence in his eyes. It was a stark contrast to the more reflective, grounded man standing beside me now.

"You've been at this a long time," I said, my tone one of quiet admiration.

"Long enough to learn that victory isn't everything," he replied, crossing his arms. "But these…" He tapped one of the frames lightly with his finger. "They remind me that I've been formidable, even when I felt like all the odds were against me."

I moved to the trophy shelf, where golden and silver accolades gleamed under the warm light. "Were these all from battles?"

"Not all of them." he admitted. "Some are from tournaments, others from contests of strategy and wit. You'd be surprised how much a well-played gamble can teach you about yourself… and about others."

I glanced back at him, tilting my head slightly. "Is that why you wanted to teach me? To help me see those lessons?"

He nodded, his gaze steady. "Partly. I also wanted you to see that there's a darker side to all of this. A cautionary tale, if you will. But we'll get to that later."

We exited the room and made our way back out into the hallway, where Grimsley slowed his pace, his hands clasped behind his back. The walls here were bare, save for a few dark, Art Deco skyscraper paintings that seemed to swirl and shift under the dim light.

He glanced at me sideways, his expression unreadable. "Tell me, Serena," he began, his tone almost casual, "how do you perceive failure?"

The question hung in the air, heavy despite how effortlessly he'd posed it.

I blinked, caught off guard. "Failure?" I echoed, buying myself a moment.

Grimsley stopped in front of a tall, decorated door but didn't open it yet. Instead, he turned to face me fully, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. "Yes. How do you handle it? What do you tell yourself when things don't go your way? When the odds aren't in your favor?"

I hesitated, fingers curled up in my fist. "I guess…" I started, unsure how to put it into words. "I've always told myself to keep moving forward. That setbacks are just part of the journey. But…"

"But?" he prompted, his voice soft but insistent.

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his question. "But sometimes, it's hard not to take it personally. It makes me question if my failure was caused by not being good enough. Or because I wasn't prepared enough. And that maybe I'm… just not meant to succeed at all."

There it was. The truth I rarely let myself think about, laid bare in the quiet of his hallway.

Grimsley's sharp features softened by a fraction. He studied me for a moment before speaking. "It's human to feel that way, you know. To question yourself. Even I've done it more times than I can count."

I looked at him, surprised. "You? But you always seem so confident."

A low chuckle escaped him. "Confidence is often a performance. Especially for people like me, who walk a razor's edge for a living. Every gambler knows the sting of failure, but it's what you do with it that defines you."

He stepped closer, his voice lowering. "Failure isn't an end. It's a mirror. It shows you who you really are. And trust me, there's a lot more to you than you're giving yourself credit for."

He reached for the door beside him and pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit room filled with small, personal artifacts: worn cards, faded ribbons, and a stack of old notebooks. "And sometimes," he added, "failure teaches you lessons that no victory ever could."

Grimsley stepped into the room first, holding the door open for me with a wave that felt oddly somber. "Welcome," he said softly, "to my ledger room."

The air inside was murky, and smelled faintly of old paper and ink. The room was modest, lined with dark wooden shelves packed with thick binders and tattered notebooks. A simple desk sat in the center, its surface worn smooth, with a single green lamp illuminating the space.

"This is where I've recorded every game, every hand, every coin toss that mattered. Every victory and every crushing defeat."

I stepped in cautiously, the weight of the room pressing down on me. It felt sacred in a way, not because of its grandeur, but because of what it represented.

Grimsley's voice took on a raw edge as he walked to one of the shelves and pulled down a leather-bound ledger, its cover scuffed from years of handling. "Most people think gambling is about luck or strategy, but it's not. Not entirely. It's about risk and sacrifice. About daring to place everything on the line, knowing full well you might walk away with nothing."

He set the ledger on the desk and flipped it open, revealing columns of precise handwriting. Winnings, losses, notes scrawled in the margins. He traced a finger down one page, pausing on a particular entry.

"This one," he said quietly, "was the game that cost me my family."

I froze, unsure if I should respond, but Grimsley continued before I could find the words.

"My family came from old money," he said, his tone matter-of-fact but laced with melancholy. "We had it all. The estate, the name, the reputation. And I… squandered it. I gambled away not just the fortune, but everything it represented. I thought I could win it all back, but the house always wins, Serena… always."

I swallowed hard, the gravity of his confession settling over me like a lead weight. "I don't know what to say…"

Grimsley looked at me, his darkened eyes unreadable. "Don't be sorry. I'm telling you this because I see the same fire in you that I had. The same hunger to take risks, to test the limits. But I want you to understand something, Serena. Gambling isn't just a game. It's warfare. And the stakes are higher than you can imagine. When it all comes crashing down, it's not just your money or your reputation at risk. It's everything you've ever cared about."

He leaned back against the desk, folding his arms. "Addiction doesn't announce itself, you know. It creeps in. You win once, and you think you've cracked the code. Then you lose, and you tell yourself it's just a fluke. You keep chasing the high, keep trying to prove to yourself that you can beat the odds. But the odds don't care about you or anyone."

I clenched my fists, feeling a pang of guilt for all the times I'd glamorized the idea of gambling in my head. "Then why keep playing?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Grimsley smiled faintly, a sad, knowing smile. "Because even when you know the dangers, the thrill is intoxicating. And for some of us, the game is the only place where we truly feel alive."

He sighed, closing the ledger with a decisive snap. "That's why I'm showing you this," he said, gesturing to the room. "Not to scare you off, but to prepare you. To make you think. If you're going to walk this path, Serena, you need to understand the stakes, not just for yourself, but for everyone who cares about you. You've already proven that you have the discipline, the clarity to resist temptation. That's why I tested you earlier, with the wine. Not because I doubted you, but because I needed to see how far you've come."

He straightened up, his usual confidence returning to his posture. "You're stronger than I was at your age, Serena. And if you keep that strength, you'll do more than just survive this game. You'll become a master of it."

"And what will become of you, Grimsley?"

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze darkening. "A fate worse than death… oblivion."

Grimsley's words sat heavy in the air.

Oblivion.

It echoed in my mind, cold and hollow.

I should've just let the moment pass. I should've stayed quiet. But something about the way he said it. The finality, the resignation… it slighted me.

"Oblivion…" I repeated softly, my fingers tightening against the desk. "Is that really how you see it?"

Grimsley let out a breath, tilting his head as if considering his own words. "That's exactly what it is," he muttered. "It's the slow erasure of everything you once were. Your name, your reputation, the people who loved you. The world just keeps spinning, but you? You're gone. Like you never existed."

I exhaled slowly, something stirring deep inside me. "What if… you don't remember who you were to begin with?"

Grimsley's gaze flicked to me, sharp and assessing.

I hadn't planned to say it. Or even meant to. But now the words were hanging there between us, and I couldn't take them back.

His expression didn't change much, but there was something different about the way he looked at me now. A shift.

"…What are you saying?"

I took a breath.

"I know what it's like to lose something you can't win back."

Grimsley's gaze flickered. He heard the shift in my voice, the edge of something heavier than he expected.

I exhaled, forcing my hands to relax at my sides. "I don't remember everything about myself. There are pieces of me that are just… gone. I don't even know if I'll ever get them back." I looked him in the eye, daring him to call it a bluff. "So when you talk about oblivion like it's a distant possibility, like it's something I need to fear… I don't. Because I've already lived it."

A silence stretched between us, thick and unmoving.

For the first time, Grimsley didn't have an immediate response. No sharp remark, no knowing smirk. He just watched me, weighing my words, making his own conclusions.

His gaze dipped slightly, studying me like a puzzle with missing pieces. "...That's a hell of a thing to say," he murmured.

"It's not just something I'm saying," I countered. "It's the truth. If there's nothing left to lose... what else is there to stop me? You should know better than anyone how dangerous that would make me."

Grimsley exhaled, shaking his head slightly, though not in disbelief. More like he was recalibrating something in his mind, reassessing.

Finally, he exhaled through his nose, a quiet chuckle slipping from his mouth. "You really don't flinch, do you?"

"No." I replied, my voice resolute.

Another pause. Grimsley ran a hand through his gelled hair, the gesture almost demoralized, like he was already regretting what was about to happen.

"Do you realize what you're asking for?" His voice dropped lower, an umbra creeping into his tone. "This isn't just about battles or games. If I take you under my wing, I won't pull my punches. I will push you beyond your known limits. And when I do, you'll hate me for it."

I met his gaze, unwavering. "Then push me."

His smirk wavered, just briefly, as if caught between something he didn't want to confront. He shook his head, his words laced with bitter understanding. "You're a daredevil."

I took a step closer, my gaze never leaving his. "And you're a coward if you think this is where your story ends."

That landed. I saw his smirk drop for just a millisecond… long enough for me to know I'd hit something raw.

He straightened up, his eyes flickering with something like a challenge, like the quiet stirrings of a man who thought he had given up on everything but now had a reason to consider the possibility of a fight.

The words hit like a thrown gauntlet. The hesitation in his eyes deepened, and something moved behind the mask, something he didn't want to admit.

Grimsley stood there, still as stone, his eyes never leaving mine, as if he was weighing every syllable, every move I made. For a moment, he said nothing. He just watched me, like he was deciding whether to crush me under the weight of reality or take the gamble.

Then, at last, he spoke, his voice steady and low, a decision finally made. "Fine. You've dared to walk through the fire… now let's see if you can survive it."

Without another word, he bowed, a gesture of respect, but also a mark of the unspoken challenge between us. A silent agreement, a contract signed in defiance.

I bowed in return, my own respect given, but my resolve unshaken.

"Alright, Serena Montresor." he said, his voice still edged with that same cool calculation. "I believe the time has come for you to return to Kalos."

"I believe you're right." I smiled at him, making my way towards the door to the ledger room. "Thank you, Grimsley. For everything."

He didn't say anything right away. His usual smirk had softened, and there was a subtle, almost imperceptible change in his gaze.

"Take care, my protégé." he finally said, his voice low. "And remember… don't gamble with things you can't afford to lose."

I glanced over my shoulder, halfway out the door, "I'll keep that in mind. After all… you did give me a strong opening hand."

I walked back to the entrance of the townhouse and reached for my suitcase, feeling the cool metal handle beneath my fingers as I gripped it firmly, pulling it toward me. A gust of the sharp winter wind rattled the windows, the night air rich with promise. As the door to the townhouse clicked shut behind me, I cast one last look at the place that had been both a crucible and a sanctuary.

I stepped onto the front steps. The city stretched before me, alive with lights and motion.

Castelia City.

My city.

The place that had shaped me, where my heart had once hesitated but now beat in sync with the rhythm of its pulse. And yet, tonight, it felt like the opening scene of something much larger than just my life.

I didn't baulk as the winter wind hit me head-on, its chill like an old acquaintance. I threw my shoulders back and walked with purpose, my steps deliberate, my gaze fixed on the distant skyline. The cool bite of the wind matched the anticipation rising in me, and a silent promise settled deep in my chest.

Someday, I would return.

This was a chapter closing, but not the end of the story. There was a tension in the air, thick with the weight of my decision. I didn't look back as I walked, not once. There would be time for that later, when the winds had changed, when I'd seen the path I was meant to follow in full. For now, I embraced the uncertainty, as it was mine to own.

The sound of my heels clicking against the pavement seemed to echo louder, like a drumbeat leading me toward something grander.

Towards Kalos.

Towards my future.

And yet, I knew the city would still be here when I came back. Waiting for me, as it always had.