Hey guys! Hope everyone is doing well! Thanks for all the encouraging comments and even messages about my grad school. It's very sweet of you to ask about all of that! But I have finished my big report and will send it in at the end of the week, so all is well. Hopefully I can start updating again consistently after these next two chapters!

This chapter is a little shorter (15k words instead of the 20-25k norm, haha), but it sets up the following chapter, which will then set up the gala, which will be another little turning point before we start focusing on gym battles, the Council of Champions, and so forth. I've just come to accept that my pacing is horrible and so here I am embracing it, haha. My concept of plot progression will forever be in refinement.

Chapter 15 is actually already half-written as I had originally had many of the scenes fit into this chapter, but it would have been 1.) too long and 2.) I still need to work out the order/sequencing of events. Either way, you'll see Chapter 15 sometime next week.

A lot of notes at the end of this chapter.

Enjoy~

Chapter 14: Tension

Saturday: Formation

The Blitz scrimmage against the small Artazon school was supposed to be a routine win for Scarlet Academy, a chance to showcase their prowess and cement their status as a dominant force in the school league. Yet, what unfolded on the field was nothing short of a disaster. The Artazon Pyroars, (ironically) unassuming in stature and underestimated by many, executed a series of strategies that caught Scarlet Academy off guard. Their players, nimble and coordinated beyond expectation, wove through Scarlet's defenses with a precision that left spectators in disbelief.

Scarlet Academy's unpolished tactics, predicated on power and aggression, fell flat against Artazon's more nuanced and flexible approach. It became evident early on that Artazon had meticulously studied Scarlet's gameplay, exploiting every weakness with unforgiving accuracy. The opposing team's Cyclizars moved like gusts of wind across the pitch, their riders executing plays that seemed to border on telepathic communication. In contrast, Scarlet Academy's responses were sluggish, their coordination off, revealing that they had yet a long way to go in regards to playing as a team.

When the final whistle blew, the scoreboard told the tale of an unprecedented blowout.

The bus ride back to Mesagoza was a somber affair. Players and their Pokémon sat in stunned silence, the weight of the loss pressing down on them. Nemona, typically a source of unflagging energy and optimism, could hardly speak. She was visibly upset, her usual fiery demeanor replaced with a rare pensive attitude. The defeat had hit her hard, and for once, she had no words of encouragement to offer anyone. She felt like everything she had said to them on the pitch had had no effect. Instead, she sat, reflecting on all the things they could have done better, the missed opportunities, and the missteps that had led to their downfall.

Aliquis, too, was in a similar state of shock, though he attempted to process the loss aloud with Nemona. His voice, usually confident and brimming with jokes, was low and serious. "We didn't adapt," he muttered, replaying the game's pivotal moments in his mind. "They read us like a book, and we...we just kept turning the pages for them!"

But Nemona couldn't respond; she was too lost in her own thoughts, contemplating the team's future and how they could possibly recover from such an embarrassing defeat.

The rest of the team shared in this collective gloom, the usual banter and laughter absent. The loss felt like ominous foreshadowing for the rest of the season…

Goh sat on the bus next to Ash, the city boy tense with frustration and disbelief. The loss to Artazon wasn't just a defeat; to Goh, it felt like a personal affront. Despite the depressive cloud that had enveloped everyone else, Goh's reaction was marked by a clear fury. His hands were clenched into fists, resting on his lap just beside Grookey, who, in stark contrast to his trainer's mood, was playing some simple game on Goh's Rotom phone.

Goh actually liked Blitz—loved it even—discovering not just a talent for the game, but a small passion. He felt like he had been giving it his all during practices, quickly becoming one of the standout Midfielders on the team. Better than Ash, even…and Goh felt like that was worth something.

During today's scrimmage, Goh had been in sync with his Cyclizar, moving with a fluidity and precision that had allowed him to create opportunities for his teammates, carving paths through Artazon's defense with ease. His passes were sharp, his movements on the field calculated and effective. He had taken hits that would have sidelined others, all in the service of the team's strategy.

And yet, despite his efforts, despite the moments of brilliance he and a few others had managed to muster, it had all come to nothing. The defeat was not just a loss in points but a dismantling of what he had believed about their team's capabilities.

"What was it all for?" Goh muttered under his breath, his gaze fixed on the seat in front of him but not really seeing it. He had played his heart out, pushed himself to limits he hadn't explored before, and for what? To sit in stunned silence, defeated and deflated, on a bus ride back to a school that had so much more from them?

Goh turned his head slightly, his gaze settling on Ash, who was seated beside him fast asleep with Pikachu also napping on his lap.

Goh felt his brow twitch when he thought of Ash's dazed performance today. The city boy couldn't reconcile the friend he knew with the performance he had witnessed on the field. Ash had seemed distracted, his usual keen instincts on the pitch dulled by fatigue or maybe distraction. His plays had been off—terrible passes, holding onto the ball for too long, a general disorientation that was unlike him. It wasn't the Ash Goh knew; it wasn't the Ash who shared a wavelength with him, who understood him without words, who was always there, present and accounted for.

But lately, Goh had been feeling a growing distance between them. It wasn't about their dreams; Goh was well aware that Ash had achieved a significant part of his, while he himself still had a long way to go. No, this distance felt more personal, as if Ash was gradually pulling away, becoming someone Goh couldn't quite understand. The idea that Ash might be hiding something from him, that he might be changing in ways Goh couldn't follow, was annoying—as Goh put it to himself—"very uncool."

Goh groaned and mumbled something incoherent. He shifted his arm on the armrest, propping his chin in his hand, thinking. He absentmindedly broke off a piece of his protein bar, offering it to Grookey, who accepted it with less enthusiasm than usual. The Pokémon's grimace at the chalky flavor elicited a small, distracted frown from Goh.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Goh muttered. He remembered talking to Gary the night they all had gotten back to the Pokémon Center last weekend from their respective adventures. Even then, Goh had complained—a bit off-handedly—about Ash "acting different" to which Gary had only shrugged and grumbled something like:

"You'll get it one day,"

"Get what one day?" Goh had retorted, immediately on the defensive as he stared into the depths of the pink Herba Mystica they had been studying.

Gary had looked up from a notebook, his eyebrow arched. "One day, hopefully, you'll realize that people change. They grow, face new challenges. And sometimes, they have to navigate those changes alone," after this, Gary had paused, considering his next words. "Maybe one day you'll go through something similar. Have some existential crisis where you start to wonder if catching every Pokémon ever is really something worthwhile. That maybe you've got the wrong idea of 'research.'"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Goh had been jarred, his hands immediately clenched into fists.

Gary had winced and immediately lifted his hands in an effort to backtrack. "Look, nevermind. Just leave Ash alone, he's just going through something."

Goh, still frowning down at Grookey, replayed Gary's words in his mind. The concept of change wasn't foreign to him; he had seen Pokémon evolve, witnessed ecosystems shift. Yet, applying that same inevitability of change to Ash, to their friendship, to himself…all of that was disturbing.

And the idea that Goh's own goals, his dream of catching every Pokémon, might be a path less fulfilling than he'd imagined, stung with a sharpness he wasn't prepared for. Goh had always equated his research, his quest, with progress—with the idea of moving forward. Yet, Gary's insinuation suggested a depth to research, to life, that Goh never really cared about. But should he? Should he care?

Goh snorted aloud, causing Grookey to look at him with concern. The brunette folded his bruised arms in front of his chest and sulked. Either way, Goh felt like he was losing his best friend, and it was not a good feeling. He didn't recognize Ash right now; this Ash that was distracted, didn't seem as enthusiastic when Goh talked about his collection of Pokémon; didn't seem as excited about the idea of stumbling into the inner machinations of mad scientist research.

Goh looked again at his best friend, who was still fast asleep, a snot bubble inflating and deflating at his nose.

The bus rattled and shook as it made its way back into Mesagoza, pulling Goh from his thoughts. Up front, Saguaro stood, holding onto a strap for balance as the vehicle navigated the city's streets. The coach's frame seemed too large, too vibrant for the narrow space between the seats, much like his personality, which even now attempted to inspire. Stern yet determined, Saguaro's gaze swept over the team. His Pachirisu, perched on his shoulder, mirrored his expression, its small face set in a determined grimace.

"Vale, let me have everyone's atención," the Blitz coach announced in his characteristic booming lilt that seemed only to be amplified by the tin walls.

Ash immediately jumped at Saguaro's call. With the grogginess of sleep still clinging to the edges of his consciousness, he tried to orient himself. The sudden start had almost caused his phone, which he didn't realize he held, to slip from his grasp. Pikachu, equally surprised by the sudden movement, scrambled with a series of quick chirps back onto Ash's lap, giving his trainer a slightly reproachful look as if to question the rude awakening.

"We back yet?" Ash mumbled, his voice thick with sleep, as he blinked blearily at the interior of the bus, lit by the dimming light outside. His hand, almost automatically, went to rub at one eye, trying to clear the fog from it.

Goh could barely conceal his frustration. "Saguaro's saying something," he said with a hint of accusation, suggesting that Ash's inattention was more than just a minor inconvenience. "You'd know that if you hadn't fallen asleep."

Ash, catching the edge in Goh's tone, only raised an eyebrow as though to question sudden chill in his friend's words. But, convincing himself that maybe he'd just heard Goh wrong, Ash merely shrugged it off and turned his attention to Saguaro, who continued to speak with an intensity that filled the cramped space.

"Alright, equipo," Saguaro began, his gaze again sweeping over the weary faces of his team. His voice, though loud, carried an undercurrent of warmth and resolve. "Today was not the outcome we hoped for. We faced an opponent who challenged us in ways we had not anticipated, and we fell short. Pero," he paused for emphasis, the word hanging in the air, "that is what the pre-season scrimmage is for, no?"

He paced slowly in the narrow aisle, ensuring he made eye contact with as many of his players as possible. "You all showed heart on that field. And whether you choose to admit it or no, we were not outplayed. No. That was not the issue. Where we failed was in that we did not play as a team!"

Saguaro stopped pacing and stood firm, his bulwark-like figure radiating confidence. "We will take this loss, we will learn from it, and we will come back stronger. I have no doubts about the talent in this bus, no doubts about your dedication. We'll review the game, identify our weaknesses, and work harder than ever before. This defeat," he raised his voice, a spark of determination in his eyes, "will be the foundation of our future victories."

With that, Saguaro and his Pachirisu clapped their hands together once, a sharp sound that seemed to clear the air of the lingering disappointment. "Now, let's get off this bus, let's rest, and let's prepare for the work ahead. We have a season to conquer, and I'll be damned if you let a pre-season loss define us. ¡Vamos, Scarlet!"

Ash, now fully awake, exchanged a look with Pikachu and the two shared a small, inspired smile.

As Coach Saguaro's words echoed through the bus, a collective nod of agreement flowed through the team. Every player, it seemed, was united in this moment of reflection—every player, that is, except for Brutus. Positioned at the back of the bus with one of his cronies, Brutus appeared detached from the moment, his gaze fixed indifferently on the passing landscape outside the window. He was all but spitting in everyone's face.

In the brief silence that followed Saguaro's speech, Brutus snorted derisively and cocked his chin upwards in an expression of scorn and arrogance. "It's too bad some Midfielder's can't even throw the ball," he mumbled.

Ash heard Brutus's comment and it struck a nerve. A vein throbbed at his temple. His jaw clenched tight, the muscles working as he fought to keep his composure. Despite the urge to confront Brutus, to defend himself, Ash said nothing. He understood that a confrontation wouldn't do anything except perhaps to deepen the divide Brutus seemed intent on creating.

Goh's response, however, was unexpected. "He's not wrong," he said, throwing his head back against the seat with a sigh of resignation.

Ash whirled on Goh, disbelief and frustration flashing in his eyes. Even Pikachu looked at the cityboy with an annoyed twitch of his ear. "What did you say?" Ash asked slowly.

The young champion was painfully aware that he hadn't played his best during the game. The pressure, the disarray on the field, and yes, the shortcomings in his own performance weighed heavily on him. But the difficulties they faced as a team were compounded by Brutus's refusal to cooperate, his decision to play by his own rules rather than support the collective effort. Rudolfo and Nemona, valiant as they were, had been left to shoulder the brunt of the offensive efforts, with Ash and Goh struggling to pave the way for them. With Brutus effectively sidelining himself, they were down a player, a critical gap that left them scrambling to cover more ground and fill roles that were not theirs to play.

It had been a systemic issue, a breakdown in teamwork and communication that Brutus's attitude only made worse. Yet, Goh's agreement with Brutus's harsh critique felt like a knife to the back.

Before Goh could respond, Saguaro interrupted the grumblings that had apparently started up all over the bus. It seemed as though multiple people had some sort of idea as to who was to blame, and no one was in agreement.

"We must work as a team," Saguaro insisted with echoing vibrations that made everyone nearly cower in their seats. "This week, that will be our focus! Team building exercises. We will learn to play together. We must. We do not want to lose our first game, our Homecoming Game—the very game part of the festivities surrounding the opening of the season's Treasure Hunt! We must make our school proud!"

The bus let out a half-hearted, though at least more spirited, murmur of affirmation to their coach's encouragement. Nemona seemed to be the only one whole-heartedly excited again and agreeing with Saguaro.

Ash and Goh, however, did not speak for the rest of the bus ride. Their Pokémon, sensing the discord between their trainers, exchanged worried glances and sighed, mirroring the uncertainty that hung in the air. Pikachu and Grookey, more used to the easygoing nature of the friendship, now found themselves navigating a new, uneasy silence.

Sunday: Accumulation

The charity event, set within the opulent confines of the Mesagoza governor's mansion in the heart of Paldea's capital, was "an affair aimed at enriching the lives of marginalized children through access to education and the arts." While the event's noble purpose was to support the governor's initiative, it was somewhat ambiguous as to whether the illustrious attendees—a mix of Paldea's elite including dignitaries, philanthropists, and celebrities—were gathered solely in support of this cause or merely to revel in the splendor of the famed palacio.

The imposing facade characterized by sweeping arches and ornate stonework paid homage to the grand palaces of Paldea's past. The entrance was flanked by towering columns, leading to grand wooden doors that were intricately carved with scenes from Paldean folklore, inviting guests into a world where history and opulence intertwined.

Inside, the mansion boasted high ceilings and expansive rooms, each flowing seamlessly into the next, creating an atmosphere of open yet intimate spaces. The floors were laid with polished marble, reflecting the soft glow of crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceilings, their light casting intricate shadows across the walls adorned with fine art. Tapestries and sculptures of beautiful and regal Pokémon added depth and texture to the mansion's decor, blending artistic expression with luxurious living.

The grand ballroom, the heart of the mansion, was an architectural marvel in itself. Its vast, domed ceiling painted with a mural of the night sky over Paldea, was supported by slender pillars that echoed the elegance of ancient temples. Large, glass doorways fed into the manicured gardens outside, allowing natural light to flood the space during the day, while in the evening, it transformed into a softly lit haven of sophistication and celebration.

It was here—in the gardens and in the ballroom—that the guests mingled and danced and drank and ate. Laughter and lively conversation filled the air, tinkling with the soft strains of music that flowed throughout the grand halls of the mansion.

The highlight of the evening had been a special performance by Serena and her Pokémon. The audience, especially the sponsored children who had been granted access to their own party—much to the chagrin of some attendees—watched with rapt attention. With her usual grace and flair, Serena took to the garden's makeshift stage. Together, they put on a mesmerizing show that captivated the young audience, as well as the guests. The children watched in awe, their faces alight with wonder as Delphox conjured fiery illusions, Sylveon danced with her elegant feelers, and Pancham struck pose after pose, adding a touch of humor to the performance.

After the show, Serena was swarmed by little bodies full of excited smiles and barrages of questions about life as Kalos Queen. They were eager to learn everything about her adventures and the training that went into each performance. Serena laughed and shared her stories, her joy infectious. The children were particularly fascinated by her Pokémon. They reached out with hesitant hands to pet Delphox, whose mystical presence left them dazzled. Sylveon's feelers gently tickled them, eliciting peals of laughter, while Pancham, ever the reluctant star, feigned indifference at the attention even as he smirked with undeniable pride at their adoration.

"Are you a princess?" one small girl asked very shyly before being tickled by one of Sylveon's ribbons.

Serena shook her head, though her smile was brilliant. "No, but you certainly look like one?"

The girl blushed deeply and reached for Serena's hand.

Serena loved every minute of this. She would have much rather spent the rest of her time with the children, speaking to them and making them smile, rather than have to make her rounds to the other dignitaries. Soon enough, Kathi-Grace gently reminded Serena that it was time to prepare for the next part of the evening. With a final wave and promises to perform again soon, Serena was led away to change back into her formal dress, leaving behind a throng of delighted children who would surely dream of Pokémon and performances for many nights to come.

"She's asking for you—the governor," Kathi-Grace whispered a bit breathlessly as she helped Serena slip back into her dress, zipping up the back of the amethyst colored gown while they stood together in a large private bathroom. "Lebarón isn't too pleased about the audience, but there's not much he can do without offending her."

"I see," Serena hummed, the fabric of her dress felt heavier, imbued now with the anticipation of an unexpected encounter. The idea of meeting the governor, a figure of significant political influence and power in Mesagoza, set Serena's mind racing. Governors, after all, were involved in the administration of entire regions, dealing with issues that affected countless lives. Why would such a prominent politician want to speak with her, a Pokémon performer? The question looped in her mind.

She took a moment to steady her breath, seeking solace in the reflection of her Pokémon in the large, ornate mirror before her. Serena exchanged reassuring glances with them, drawing comfort from their unwavering loyalty and strength. She then returned her Sylveon and Pancham to their Pokéballs, their forms disappearing accompanied by a soft click that echoed slightly in the spacious bathroom. She tucked the spheres into a secret fold of her dress.

"Okay," Serena, after taking one last look in the mirror, adjusted a stray strand of honey-gold hair and smoothed the fabric of her dress. Delphox, sensing her trainer's resolve, stood a little taller, its eyes gleaming with an inner fire that mirrored Serena's determination. The performer then turned to Kathi Grace with something that very nearly resembled a smirk, "Let's go."

With an air of purpose, Kathi-Grace navigated Serena and Delphox through the bustling event, their presence drawing curious glances from the assembly. The grand ballroom was alive now more than ever as the swell of music, a classical quartet playing from a corner, set a rhythm for couples to swirl gracefully across the dance floor in fast, rhythmic waltzes. The air was filled with the aroma of exquisite dishes, as waiters navigated the crowd with trays of gourmet appetizers and flutes of sparkling champagne, cava, and brut.

Amidst the celebration, journalists weaved through the crowd, their cameras flashing, capturing the glamor and the gestures of generosity that defined the evening. Their lenses often turned towards Serena, fascinated by the presence of the Kalos Queen and her place in Paldea's esoteric society.

As they progressed, men from the gathering approached the performer with offers of compliments and invitations to dance, each attempting to engage her in the night's celebrations. Serena, ever graceful, responded with polite declinations Kathi-Grace, protective and less inclined to mince words, interjected more bluntly at times, ensuring their path remained unobstructed.

Their journey through the ballroom at last ended as they walked down a large corridor, adorned with paintings and sculptures that celebrated Paldea's past leaders. The corridor ended at a set of gilt doors guarded by security agents who stood vigilant, their presence marking the threshold to a more private area of the mansion.

Upon their approach, Kathi-Grace confidently provided their names to the guards. With a nod, they pulled apart a red velvet rope and the doors opened. Serena, with Delphox by her side and Kathi-Grace leading the way, stepped through the threshold, leaving behind the din of the party.

The governor's office was expansive, with high, vaulted ceilings that added to the opulence of the room. Though dark outside, tall arched windows carried in the moonlight which mingled with the warm glow of the ceiling chandelier, highlighting the intricate details of the ornate carvings and woodwork that adorned the walls. Bookshelves, filled with volumes of Paldean history and law, stood tall behind the governor's desk, around which a group of bodies appeared gathered. Their discussions suddenly paused momentarily by Serena's arrival.

From her substantial, polished perch, Isabel de Castilla's gaze immediately pierced through the wall of bodies and found the girl. The governor allowed a small smile to grace her lips as she beckoned Serena, Delphox, and Kathi Grace forward with a subtle nod. The older woman held a fading prettiness that would soon be patted with broken veins; but her expression was both tranquil and aware of this in a pleasant way. Her silver hair lay meticulously styled around the contours of her aged face, reflecting the room's soft light while her dark, vibrant eyes—shining like a cat's—surveyed the room as though the scene were a painting waiting to be interpreted. Beside her, a Serperior lounged with a contended, yet authoritative hiss.

Among the políticos gathered, Serena recognized a few faces, though most were strangers to her, their identities and roles within Paldea's political landscape yet unknown. She consciously avoided meeting the gaze of Guillermo, who, upon her entry, had abruptly paused his conversation with the governor. His expression marked a stark contrast to the otherwise welcoming atmosphere. He looked oddly out of place, as if this room were off-limits to him or immune to the influence of his charisma. Many of the other men in the room threw reproachful glances towards the contest professor, while he unsuccessfully ignored the weight of such gazes with a face thinly veiled by a sheen of sweat.

Serena, guided by Kathi-Grace and still flanked by Delphox, moved through the office. She tried not to feel so unsettled at seeing Guillermo so unkempt and lacking in poise.

With his irritation cresting, Lebarón spun sharply towards Isabel again, his sudden movement drawing the attention and causing a ripple of unrest among the other dignitaries present. "Siento que debería conocer la naturaleza de lo que usted pretende discutir con la Reina de Kalos. Después de todo, ella está aquí bajo mi responsabilidad," Lebarón was saying, his hands clenched as he held them behind his back, his words clipped and lilting.

Isabel responded with a light, dismissive laugh thought it was clear she was affronted by Guillermo's tone. Her gloved hand soon floated into the air to wave away the contest professor altogether. "Vale. No me había dado cuenta de que la tenías como una mascota. Por lo que he visto, ella parece capaz de tomar sus propias decisiones."

Guillermo, clearly caught in some fit of desperation, began to growl out another retort in Paldean, but Isabel cut him off, gesturing for her husband to step forward.

"Alejandro, por favor, have Lebarón speak to the press and give a statement about the event. I'm sure the region would love to hear about how concerned he is for the children his generous donations will go to sponsor," Isabel instructed, her request lancing through the space to land a decisive blow upon the moment's lack of decorum. Her command left no room for argument, redirecting Guillermo's fervor towards a task that effectively removed him from the immediate conversation.

The professor's handsome features seemed to burn as a grayish flush spread over his face, dissolving all his expressions into a vast ineffectuality. At this juncture, a tall, older gentleman, embodying an aura of dignity and composure akin to Isabel's, stepped forward to intervene. He unclasped one of the hands from behind his back and chuckled as he gestured for a petulant Lebarón to exit the room. Before following the contest professor out the doors, the governor's husband motioned for everyone else to clear the office before giving Isabel an affable wink that seemed to be in dissonance with an air of moral gravitas predisposed to the gentleman's quiet, self-effacing movements.

Alejandro then nodded politely to Serena before wordlessly leaving the room behind the other.

"I would like to speak with Serena alone, Kathi Grace," Isabel's sharp gaze landed on the performer with a sudden intensity that made Serena shiver. However, the governor then smiled at the conflicted manager as if to try and alleviate any concern. Isabel then also nodded to Delphox, "You are welcome to stay, of course."

Delphox nodded stiffly.

From beside the wary Pokémon, Kathi Grace executed a small, unnecessary bow. "I'm right outside if you need me," she told Serena before making her leave.

The doors closed with a soft but definitive click. The silence that settled over the room was thick with anticipation, the kind that precedes significant conversations. Serena, who had turned to watch Kathi Grace leave, looked back at Isabel only to find the stately woman and her Serperior watching her intently. The performer understood then that she was being studied. Examined. And she felt both the weight of the opportunity and the uncertainty of what was to come.

At first, Isabel de Castilla's gaze appeared aloof and almost feline; however, there was a glint of subtle admiration underscoring her otherwise oscillating countenance. The wrinkles at her brow appeared to soften at the sight of this Kalos Queen, whose performance only moments ago had melted and inspired the hearts of the children—the children Isabel, herself, cared for very deeply.

Were Isabel de Castilla ever to pause to reflect upon her tenure, she would express a profound disdain for the political machinations that often prioritized wealth and power over genuine societal progress. Her ambition for the governorship had never been fueled by a desire for status or control but by a heartfelt commitment to enact change and uplift the community she served. Yet, the relentless tug-of-war for influence within the political arena was exhausting, a battle of wills that seemed to benefit only those hungry for dominance. The realization that she was being edged out by rivals with motives antithetical to her own weighed heavily on her spirit. However, Isabel's weariness was now a cape she could not shed, a shadow that loomed larger with each passing year. However, her profound love for Mesagoza and its inhabitants anchored her, preventing her from relinquishing her position, despite the toll it exacted, without a fight.

As the seconds stretched taut across the space, Serena began to shift on the balls of her feet, but not from insecurity. The need to move came from an inborn restlessness—a response not to the pressure of judgment but to the static energy of anticipation.

At last, Isabel's face broke out into a gracious smile, though the expression was well rehearsed. "Vous êtes très loin de chez vous," the governor's Kalosian was flat and idiomatic, like something remembered, but she continued, standing and walking to the other side of the desk where she picked up a decorated hand fan the same color as her Serperior. "Paldea…est-elle comme vous l'imaginiez?"

Serena made a quick glancing exchange with Delphox before answering cautiously. "C'est une belle région." The words rolled off her tongue with an affected ease.

Isabel's lips turned upwards as though amused. The elegance with which Isabel navigated the conversation was mirrored in the physical grace she handled the fan now situated in her hands, fluttering it gently as if to combat the warmth that filled the room—a warmth that seemed bred by the tension of previous conversations.

The governor then moved with a measured pace towards the tall windows of her office, her figure silhouetted against the soft light that filtered through the lush curtains. There was a moment of contemplation as she gazed out, her back to Serena, allowing the silence to swell with anticipation before she continued.

"You know, I was thirteen when I decided I would become the governor of our capital city," Isabel began, her voice imbued with a reflective quality. The fan ceased its motion, now closed and tapping lightly against her open palm, a metronome to her thoughts. "The first woman to become a governor…not just of Mesagoza, but of Paldea. I was mocked brutally for this dream," she added, her laughter short and devoid of true amusement, a stark contrast to the dream-filled aspirations of her youth. Turning her gaze from the window panes, which she had been tracing rather absently, back to Serena, Isabel's expression held a severe resilience. "But one should never mock the dreams of the young, for it is then that fuel is only added to fire, no?"

Serena did not know how to respond. She turned again to Delphox, seeking a momentary reassurance or perhaps solidarity, but the action was met with an almost palpable sense of respect emanating from her Pokémon. Delphox seemed to recognize the significance of the woman before them, standing tall and composed as she observed Governor Isabel de Castilla with her flaming wand flickering in one of her crossed arms.

When she did not get a reply, Isabel smiled slowly, her flashing eyes scrutinizing the Kalosian girl once more: It was clear that the performer held magic in her palms. Serena's cheeks were lit to a lovely flame, like the thrilling flush perpetually embedded into her color by her performances. Her fine forehead sloped gently up to where her hair, bordering it like a heraldic shield, burst into the waves of the honey-blonde and burnished gold she seemed to be particularly known for. But what Isabel found most impressive were the girl's eyes. Her eyes were big, bright, clear, and shining; vibrant as the color of her cheeks that was real and breaking close to the surface from the strong young pump of her heart. Isabel noted how the girl's body drifted delicately on the last vestiges of girlhood—she was nearly complete, but the dew was still on her.

Isabel hummed with something that almost sounded like approval. Maturation was a long and hard road, but the girl before her seemed more than capable of enduring its refinement. "I hear you and Guillermo are having disagreements," the governor's eyes locked with the performer but Isabel stopped Serena before she could interrupt, "I know only from the rumors that get parroted here and there by all the Chatots. I am not involved with that man—nor with anyone from the Lebarón family for that matter. I do wonder, what has made him so desperate? It was quite bold of him to waltz into the office upon hearing of my desire to speak with you," Isabel tapped her chin with her closed fan and feigned a contemplative look; however, it was clear the woman held all the answers to her own questions.

"It is always so fascinating when a man projects his desires upon a woman," she continued with a little sigh, as though discussing a well-known novel on such things. "I do pity him, truly. His family owned much of the surrounding land around Mesagoza up until only recently, when Guillermo's father bankrupted the entire family in some scandal—Arceus knows I will spare you the details. But Guillermo has been trying to work his way back up into good society ever since."

"I see," Serena demurred, not sure what else to say. All she could think about was how intensely she felt a certain power thrumming through the walls of the room, and immediately Serena lifted her chin a little higher and stood a little straight.

Isabel noticed and hummed again. She began walking back over to Serena from the window, her heels echoing on the elegant, glossed space. "You do not have to forgive him for being an impudent fool, but at least now you understand him. He is not after power as much as he is after vanity. That is why you would have been such a pretty piece on his arm," Isabel paused, her expression contemplative as she momentarily rested her chin in her hand, the fan tucked neatly beneath her arm. "But I would always be careful…he is a man accustomed to getting what he wants. And you are young. Therefore, he thinks you are weak."

Serena tried not to shiver. She did not like how heavy this all felt and wanted to move on. "What did you wish to speak with me about?" Serena asked a bit haltingly though she tried to stand firm.

Isabel's hands spread before her in a gesture that seemed to encompass a contrived innocence, her smile broadening yet carrying a complexity that hinted at deeper layers. There was a certain sharpness in her feline gaze, a spark that suggested her words, while sincere in their praise, also served as a prelude to something more. "Nothing, my dear, I wish only to thank you for putting on a wonderful showcase for my charity," Isabel's smile lingered as her eyes locked onto Serena's with an intensity that belied the casualness of her words. The slight tilt of her head, the way her gaze seemed to pierce just a bit too intently, suggested an unspoken meaning, "and for the city as a whole as well. You are truly talented. Your performances radiate. Your influence…natural."

Serena furrowed her brows. She felt as though she had been cast in a play without being given the script, every compliment weaving into a larger, unseen test. "But why bring up Guillermo?" she ventured, curious and wary.

Isabel provided an inutile shrugged, "What? I simply wanted to empathize with your position, I suppose. Why? Was there something you wished to speak to me about?"

Caught in the unexpected reversal, Serena found herself momentarily adrift in confusion.

Isabel returned to her desk, her fingers finding Serperior's bright green scales as the corners of her mouth curled into a smile. She continued to observe Serena's conflicted expression. "I will say this—I enjoyed your last Showcase in Mesagoza immensely," she began, her voice carrying a warmth that seemed genuine. She then interlaced her fingers together, resting her hands on the desk before her. "How you shared your stage with the other girls; your pupils. I noticed the way they look to you. I noticed too the intelligence with which the show was devised. Quite splendid, really." Isabel flicked her wrist and leaned back in her chair, "You are hoping to give each girl a chance to connect with the audience in their own way before you put on a true Showcase. Magnifique."

Isabel's expression then soured slightly as she proceeded, "Guillermo hated it, of course, because he is a fool and thinks that you define Showcases alone. Yes, you are a very beautiful girl, but if you were to keep being Lebarón's—no, Mesagoza's—pet, soon enough you would have audiences paying to see not a Showcase…"

Serena picked up the thread, "...But a one-man show."

"But Guillermo wouldn't care as in his wildest dreams he would wear Mesagoza's jewel on his arm to bring himself into the reaches of fame, you see?" Isabel tempered the irritation that seemed evident across the tightened lines of her face. "But I digress. I only wish to commend you. I admire what you did. I know it was not easy…you are under pressure…" Isabel leaned forward, the fabric of her gray dress shimmering under the chandelier light. Her eyes softened, though searched, as though allowing Serena a chance to speak.

The Kalos Queen looked down, her hands clasped tightly together before her. "I am…under pressure that is…Guillermo has threatened to end my Showcases should I not agree to return to his format for the performances," she admitted in words barely above a whisper and she looked at Delphox who couldn't help but emit a low growl.

"And that would be such a shame," Isabel said, straightening up. She took a soft caramel from a jar on her desk and offered it to Serperior who accepted it happily. Isabel watched her familiar slip its serpentine tongue around the treat. "I, for one, firmly believe it would be splendid to have true Showcases in Mesagoza. In Paldea, for that matter."

Serena's head snapped up, her eyes widening as it began to slowly dawn on her as to what Isabel was implying. "You…do?"

Isabel waved her hand dismissively, as if the matter was of little consequence to her. "And I know some other…influencers, if you will, that believe the same. That believe in what you and your Showcases really stand for."

At that moment, Serena understood. The governor was inviting her into her confidence…she was offering her help. But Serena would have to ask. She had to be bold. That was the test.

She would pass.

"Do you think you could introduce me?" Serena asked, a sweet smile playing on her lips. "To these influencers?"

Isabel blinked, feigning surprise at the request, though the sparkle in her eyes suggested she was anything but caught off guard. Slowly, an approving smile spread across her face. It was soon mitigated, however. "My dear," the governor hummed, "are you sure this is what you want?"

Serena's smile faltered slightly. Her mind halted. What would she be getting herself into if she indeed stepped into Isabel's circle of influence. "I…I don't…I'm not one for politics…" the performer hesitated.

Isabel's smile turned contemplative, her eyes reflecting a depth of understanding. "No one is," and then the woman's expression darkened like the veins on her skin, "It goes against all ideals of innocence. Of romanticism. You are a romantic, no? Yes, I can tell. At times, growing up requires us to grow out of our romanticism, at least for the time being. We can always be romantic again, but only when we truly know the world. The romantics who choose ignorance are the fools. But the romantics who choose to relinquish their innocence are the brave, for they have a deeper, more mature understanding of love and beauty, having reconciled these ideals with the knowledge of the world's imperfections."

The governor's gaze then landed back onto Serena's brilliant blue eyes with a bit of a challenge. "Which romantic will you decide to be?"

Monday: Buildup

Scarlet Academy's student council room—a hub of decision-making and student governance—was one of the few offices that sat inside the large Pokéball Dome perched between the Academy's rising spires. Therefore, the room was bathed in the natural light that streamed through large windows. It was a functional space, yet it carried an air of importance, with its walls lined with shelves filled with trophies, plaques, and photographs commemorating past achievements and events that had shaped the school's history.

At the center of the room stood a large, oval-shaped table made of polished wood that gleamed under the overhead lights, surrounded by comfortable, yet formal chairs. This table served as the focal point for discussions and debates, a place where ideas were shared, and decisions were made.

Nemona, as class president, occupied the head of the table, her position underscoring her leadership and responsibility. With her fingers rhythmically drumming against the wood, she exuded a mixture of anticipation and determination. Before her lay a stack of papers, each document representing a different aspect of student life that required attention, from event planning to budget allocations. She meticulously went through these papers, her focus unwavering, as she sought to address each item with the thoroughness it deserved.

Hohma and the rest of the council, except for Aliquis and Penny, watched Nemona with a blend of anxiety and expectation. The air in the room was charged with the tension of pending decisions, the collective breath of the council members held as they awaited Nemona's guidance and directives. Their faces, a mirror of concern and eagerness, reflected the weight of the responsibilities that rested on their shoulders—responsibilities that they were committed to fulfilling under Nemona's leadership.

Penny, looking a bit confused and possibly inconvenienced, broke through the silence—a silence she found super weird. "So…what are we doing, exactly? I thought we met on Thursdays?" She was mildly annoyed and did not try to hide it.

Aliquis, in the midst of a yawn that showed his indifference to the conventional meeting schedule, responded lazily while stretching, his hands finding a comfortable spot behind his head. "This is an emergency meeting. We're picking a theme for the Homecoming Dance this Saturday," he explained nonchalantly before deciding to reach into his bag and toss a bonbon towards Meowscarada, who was lounging against the wall behind him. Catching the treat with grace, the Pokémon joined in on the snack, while Aliquis took a bite of his own treat with a loud crack.

Penny, now clearly exasperated, couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What?! That's what this urgent meeting is about?!" Her glasses caught the light, emphasizing her surprise and disbelief at the situation.

Hohma, the school treasurer, couldn't help but chuckle nervously at Penny's reaction. He knew Penny from his STEM classes and she had always kind of scared him. He adjusted his glasses on his button-nose, trying to bring some sense of seriousness back to the discussion. "Well, we haven't had time to decide earlier, and we need to know how to decorate the gym," he explained, hoping to justify the meeting's urgency. As he spoke, he affectionately rubbed Quaxley's head, seeking some comfort from the Pokémon amidst the unexpected tension.

Penny retorted with evident sarcasm, "And here I thought you guys talked about serious issues."

"This is serious," Nemona interjected rather coolly, hoping to leave no room for further debate. As she spoke, her Pawmo sniffed at her shoulder, glancing longingly at the treat in Meowscarada's paws. "The Homecoming Dance—along with all of the Homecoming Week festivities are to celebrate the beginning of the Treasure Hunt! And we're way behind on choosing a theme," Nemona sighed, rubbing her temples as she looked at the stack of papers before her, "We can't have the dance become a free-for-all. A themeless dance quickly becomes a costume contest for who can dress up as the most obscure piece of abstract art…"

Hohma, sensing an opportunity to shift the mood, added with a hopeful glance, "That doesn't sound so bad. Then our decorations could really be whatever we want under the label of 'Avant-Garde Expression,' no? And who's to say a mismatched gym isn't a masterpiece?"

Penny, utterly unamused, shot back, "That's one step away from having the punch bowl be a metaphor for the existential void."

Aliquis's eyes gleamed with mischief, "Look, we're all just deep, philosophical beings exploring the existential dread through Homecoming decor. Maybe then, we can encourage grinding, a dance which really represents the chaos of the universe."

Penny looked disgusted, "Sure, and if people ask what our theme is, we'll just say it's 'The Enigma of Adolescence.' Abstract, confusing, and everyone leaves questioning their life choices."

"This conversation is unproductive and foul," Nemona grumbled, slamming a hand back down onto the table, causing everyone, save Penny, to jump back to attention.

Aliquis, glancing warily at an imposing stack of survey results, sought a more streamlined approach to the papers they supposedly had to sift through. "Well, can we read off what people's top three were or something?" he suggested, scratching his cheek with apprehension. "I really don't want to be here all night…"

Nemona, understanding and already a step ahead, nodded affirmatively. She picked up the front page of the list and turned her attention to a dark-featured boy sitting beside her. "As you all know, Mateo, along with the rest of the School Committee, did surveys to see what people were thinking." She paused, a playful spark in her eye, "And we have… drum roll?"

A few members of the Student Council, caught up in Nemona's enthusiasm, hesitantly obliged, their hands creating a soft rumble on the table. Penny rolled her eyes at the theatrics.

Nemona's grin widened, her excitement growing as she prepared to reveal the survey's findings. "We have, in no particular order: The Pokémon Type-themed Homecoming," she announced, her voice vibrating with anticipation. She began to read the blurb, each word fueling her eagerness further: "Celebrate the different Pokémon types (Fire, Water, Grass, Electric, Fairy, etc.) by encouraging attendees to dress or accessorize according to their favorite Pokémon type. Decorations could include the elements and personas representing each category, such as water fountains for Water type, leafy decorations for Grass type, and electric lighting for Electric type—"

"Cliché," Penny yawned and kicked her feet up onto the table.

A vein seemed to pop on Nemona's forehead, not because she was particularly invested in the idea, but she just hated it when someone rained on her parade. Any negativity, she dismissed with a heavy hand. Perhaps it was to her detriment that she was obsessed with fun, but in her mind, who wouldn't love to have fun all the time? And so, Penny's dismissive attitude, in Nemona's mind, could not go unaddressed. "I don't know, I think the decorations could be amazing!"

"There would be way too much going on. Decorating for that would be a nightmare," Penny continued, deadpanned, and to Nemona's horror, people were actually nodding along with her.

"Let's hear all the options first, no?" Hohma interrupted tentatively.

"Okay…" Nemona bit the inside of her cheek in a little pout and narrowed her eyes as she continued to read, "Region Rendezvous: This theme could have sections of the venue decorated to represent different regions like Kanto, Johto, Sinnoh, Unova, Galar, and others. Attendees could dress in the style or Pokémon from their favorite region…"

"Also too involved," Penny sighed, "that puts more work on your decorating team, or whatever—wait, who has to do that?"

"All of us," Aliquis replied as though he were imparting news about a dying family member.

Without another word, Penny placed her forehead on the table.

Aliquis's eyebrows shot up and he looked at Nemona before throwing a thumb towards Penny. "I like her."

"Let's just," Nemona ground her teeth, "keep going. Our next idea: Legendary Night. We focus on the legendary and mythical Pokémon that have always captured the imagination of trainers. The venue could be decorated with motifs of legendary Pokémon like Mewtwo, Lugia, Rayquaza, and others. Attire is inspired by such legendaries, while activities could include a scavenger hunt for 'legendary artifacts' or trivia about the legendary Pokémon."

At first, no one spoke, thinking about the idea. Eventually, Nemona shook her head, casting a doubtful glance at Pawmo, as if seeking validation for her hesitance. "I don't know, maybe that's too narrow? I mean, there are only so many legendary Pokémon…and it all sounds so, I don't know, serious," she mused aloud, uncertain.

"Serious?" Penny lifted her head slowly, there was a red mark on her forehead, "Actually, that's the best idea so far. It leaves a lot of room for people to wear what they want in the sense that it could be 'inspired' by a legendary Pokémon, while still allowing people to have the creative liberty to be original with their dresses and stuff. Same thing with the decor. We could just make everything look, I don't know, starry and 'ethereal.'" She stopped, rubbing her face with her hands, "Wait, I can't believe I'm actually getting invested in this."

Aliquis, ready to push the conversation forward, took another bite of his bonbon before decisively slapping the table. "I like the last idea. Let's do that." His simple endorsement seemed to catalyze a wave of agreement that slowly spread through the room, each council member beginning to see the potential in the theme.

As murmurs of consensus grew, Nemona found herself simmering with a mix of emotions. Why was she so annoyed? On some level, she recognized it was a good concept. The idea of an award for 'best dressed' and categories for different legendaries did spark a hint of excitement in her. But was it fun enough? That was always her benchmark. Perhaps it was the lack of unanimous enthusiasm or the deviation from her initial expectations that bothered her. Whatever the reason, Nemona couldn't shake the feeling of being slightly out of step with the rest of the council, even as she began to acknowledge the theme's potential for creativity…

"Okay, then. If we're all agreed on the Legendary Night theme, let's—" She didn't even get to finish her sentence before every hand in the room shot up in agreement. The sudden consensus, while ostensibly a victory for efficient decision-making, left her feeling oddly sidelined.

Beside Nemona, Pawmo offered her enthusiastic applause, her paws patting together in what seemed like support. Yet, Nemona couldn't shake off the unsettling pang that her leadership, usually the guiding light for such decisions, had somehow been circumvented. It wasn't just that everyone had unanimously agreed on the theme without her explicit endorsement; it was the realization that her validation, her input, had not been sought as it usually was.

"Alright, that was great," Penny groaned as she stood up and yawned as she pulled an Eevee blanket around her small frame, "but I'm going back to bed."

"It's noon," Aliquis pointed out, amazed.

"Yeah. Too early," Penny squinted at the bright light filtering in through the windows as though she was some sort of vampiric creature.

When she left, Aliquis looked around, "Doesn't she have class?"

Nemona didn't answer. She was still left a bit off-kilter. The class president just couldn't help but feel as though she had been subtly outmaneuvered by Penny, who seemed indifferent to the dance itself yet had influenced the council's decision in a way that Nemona had not anticipated.

This lack of control, this deviation from the norm where her opinions and ideas were central to the council's decisions, was unnerving. Nemona wanted to create an event that would be talked about for years to come, an event that exemplified the spirit and creativity of their student body. To see the direction of something so important haphazardly steered so strongly by someone who seemed to care so little was frustrating beyond belief.

As the murmur of agreement continued to fill the room and plans began to take shape without her usual lead, Nemona tried to reconcile her feelings. She wondered, perhaps for the first time, if her enthusiasm for constant fun and grand ideas and the need to make everything perfect was being overshadowed by a need for practicality and consensus she hadn't fully appreciated before.

Yet, as the meeting moved forward and her council members began discussing logistics and decorations with a newfound vigor, Nemona tried to shove her feelings aside and retake control of the conversation.

"Now's your chance, Charcadet!"

The evening settled into gloaming, casting a serene hue over Scarlet Academy's training fields as a sheen of moisture clung to the air. As he stood upon the dampened grass, Ash's determination was clear. He commanded Charcadet with a sense of urgency through the purpling dusk.

"Fire Punch!" Ash called out and the Fire Child lunged forward, his fiery body illuminating his path as he aimed to strike Brock's Croagunk. The amphibious Pokémon, looking a bit winded from previous exchanges, braced itself and countered with a Poison Jab. Red met purple in a small explosion of energy as the attacks collided, filling the air with crackling sparks.

When the smoke cleared, both Pokémon appeared a bit ragged but still standing, their determination unwavering. Pikachu and Wattrel watched the battle unfold from the sidelines, their expressions a mix of anticipation and support for Charcadet in the heat of battle and they cheered loudly without restraint.

"Alright, now, let's try out our new move!" Ash's grin widened as he pointed towards Croagunk. "Disable!"

Charcadet's eyes glowed with blue rings of energy as it unleashed the Disable move, stopping Croagunk in his tracks. The Toxic Mouth Pokémon stood motionless, entranced by the mystical energy swirling around it.

However, as soon as the blue rings vanished, Croagunk shook itself out of his trance. Ignoring Brock's command, he attempted to use Poison Jab once again, but this time, the attack failed to materialize, leaving Croagunk momentarily puzzled and vulnerable.

Ash nodded, acknowledging Charcadet's eagerness to reengage his opponent. Over the past week, the young champion had focused on building Charcadet's stamina for moments like this. The Fire Child had always been fast, but Ash had observed how he could now sustain his speed for much longer periods in battle. Through nightly training sessions and rigorous Battle Studies exercises, Charcadet's endurance had markedly improved.

Despite the fire sprite's inherent limitations—its small size, youthful impulsiveness, and fiery temperament—Ash had diligently molded the Fire Type into a speed-oriented combatant capable of outlasting many adversaries, provided he avoided taking direct hits. Dendra had dubbed this strategy a "Stamina Siege," emphasizing the importance of endurance and resilience in battle. In Battle Studies, this tactic involved leveraging superior defense, strategic healing, and moves that gradually depleted the opponent's resources or strength. Alternatively, it relied on a Pokémon's endurance to evade attacks until their opponent became too fatigued to fight effectively, leaving them vulnerable and cornered.

With Croagunk showing signs of exhaustion, Charcadet now held the advantage. Ash raised a determined fist, his eyes shining with confidence. "One last Fire Punch! Let's go!" he called out, pointing a finger at Croagunk.

Charcadet responded eagerly to Ash's command, his fiery spirit mirroring the resolve in his trainer's gaze. In a burst of flames, Charcadet launched himself forward, his determination fueling his every move. The Fire Child landed a precise Fire Punch on the confused and dazed Croagunk, who seemed unaware of Brock's calls to him amidst the chaos of battle.

Croagunk fainted, succumbing to the attack and his fatigue. Brock nodded and recalled his Pokémon. "Good effort, Croagunk. Rest easy," he praised before putting his Pokéball away.

Ash and Charcadet erupted into a loud celebration, jumping up in triumph at their victory. Pikachu and Wattrel joined them, running up from the sidelines and cheering as they enveloped each other in a spontaneous group hug. It was Charcadet's first 'official' win, and the Fire-type couldn't contain his joy.

"That was awesome, Charcadet! You've really gotten so much stronger!" Ash cheered, his wide grin reflecting his pride in his Pokémon's progress.

Charcadet responded with cartwheels and backflips, reveling in his victory.

Brock approached the excited group. "Well, that was great! Feels good to battle a little more again," the Pokémon doctor nodded again and smiled, "and I don't even feel bad losing to you at this point."

Ash snorted but returned the smile. "Well, this was the first time Charcadet managed to get the best of Croagunk. Croagunk's gotten stronger too. It was a great fight."

Brock chuckled and folded his arms in front of his chest, surveying the field. He raised his dark eyebrows, "So where's Goh? Thought he'd be here too."

Ash sighed heavily and adjusted his hat, turning the bill to face forward. He and Brock began to walk away from the training field, with Ash's Pokémon following closely behind. "I don't know," Ash muttered, rubbing his face, "he seems mad at me for some reason. I think he blames me for how badly we played at the scrimmage this Saturday—It wasn't my fault though! I mean, sure, I was exhausted…but we were all still trying to adjust playing together as a team. Even practice today was rough."

"You were exhausted, huh?" Brock's eyes lit up as he observed Pikachu's mischievous antics from behind Ash. The Electric-type had pulled down his ears to resemble long hair and was now batting his eyes as if dropping a not-so-subtle hint. Charcadet and Wattrel couldn't contain their amusement, both Pokémon beginning to snicker at Pikachu's impish display.

Ash turned around to see what all the giggling was about, but Pikachu immediately reverted to normal and blinked as though there was nothing to see. Ash narrowed his eyes.

"So," Brock then began, rubbing his chin as though wondering how to phrase his next question, "why were you so tired? Should we start there?"

Ash did not like the wicked glint in Brock's face. He also didn't like the fact that he was struggling to keep his own cheeks cool and indifferent. "Um, well, you know," Ash cleared his throat. Once. Twice. "I mean, Serena has her Showcases on Fridays, and I told her I would be there when I could…"

"You are such a good friend," Brock placed special emphasis on that last word as his eyebrows shot up, and Ash could feel the weight of his friend's scrutiny, "did you get to see her afterwards? To give your regards, of course?"

Ash swallowed and rubbed his temples as they continued their walk through the darkened campus. "Yeah, well, maybe," he replied, uncertain. He waffled back and forth between holding back and telling Brock everything, but Ash was still trying to process his own feelings about the date himself.

It was hard to process anything however when all Ash could think about was lying in that meadow with Serena, seeing her all full of moonlight—literally every time he closed his eyes, he saw that. It caused a wonderful and terrible feeling inside his chest. He found that he ached, or it felt like he ached, when he wasn't around her. Not that he needed to be around her all the time or anything, but it was as if he needed to establish something, take some kind of step forward—reach out and establish something tangible between them, to claim whatever it was they shared. Something was missing, and he felt like he was responsible for whatever that was.

Ash suddenly stopped in his tracks, turning to face Brock with a determined expression. He had made up his mind; he was going to come clean. He needed to talk to someone, and Brock, as one of his oldest friends, seemed like the best person to confide in. While the former gym leader was far from what Ash would call a romance guru, he might still be able to help.

"Brock," Ash began, his chest growing warm, "I took her out on a date."

Brock stopped cold. "You…what?"

"Yeah."

"Like…a date, date?"

"What do you mean?"

The Pokédoctor grabbed Ash by his shirt and brought him very near to his face. "Did you kiss?"

For a moment, a horrified Ash thought Brock was going to demonstrate.

At the question, however, Pikachu grumbled and gave a piercing glower towards Chacadet, who seemed oblivious to the tension.

"No!" Ash turned as red as a tamato berry and waved his hands vigorously in front of him to try and detach from Brock's vice-like grip. "I…it was our first date. I, uh, didn't want to rush into anything," he lied like a Seviper between his teeth. At this point, he was more embarrassed by the fact that he'd wanted to kiss her more than anything else, really.

Pikachu knew this and snickered, shaking his little head with mirth while Ash glared daggers at him.

"I see," Brock bit his lip, trying very hard not to laugh-cry or scream or do something that might scare away this burgeoning confidence. But he seriously had to reevaluate his life choices if Ash Ketchum was going on more dates than him. It was a thought that both amused and bewildered the former gym leader.

"And how," Brock had to take a very, very deep breath, "how did it go? If I might ask."

Ash fell silent for a moment. He looked at Pikachu, who gave him a sympathetic nod before climbing onto his shoulder. They exchanged glances for a moment as though they had already had their own conversation about the matter. Eventually, Ash broke into a boyish smile.

"It was amazing," he sighed, lifting his hat a moment to run his hand through his hair. "She's just the best. We didn't even do anything special. We'd both been so busy all week, but I still wanted to see her so…" Ash explained to Brock what they did, what they'd talked about—leaving out the more personal things; as well as the hand holding…and the hug, which Ash still thought about with a weird feeling in his gut.

"We had a great time!" he finished with a long, satisfied breath, "So we're going to do it again soon," Ash lifted a fist as though he were making those words a promise.

"Okay, so what's the problem?"

"What do you mean?" Ash stopped and blinked.

"Well…," Brock chuckled, gesturing into the air as though something were before them, "you seem unsettled by something. Distracted. That's probably why Goh's getting annoyed with you, you know. You have been a little preoccupied, but that's normal when you're in love."

In love. At first, Ash recoiled at the idea for some reason—his reaction was ingrained, instinctive. The words swirled around in his mind like leaves caught in a gust of wind. He shuddered. In love. Those were very uncomfortable words for some reason…Was he really in love? How was he supposed to know?

Ash sensed another shiver run down his spine. Suddenly he felt like this was something he needed to really think about…it probably had to do with the ache he felt or that missing thing he sensed between him and Serena. But he just didn't really have the stamina to wade through all that right now.

And so, Ash promptly decided to ignore Brock's words.

"Oh," Brock broke Ash away from his thoughts, pointing ahead, "there's Goh. And…Gary?"

Ash followed Brock's gaze, squinting into the darkness to see Gary and his Umbreon walking beside Goh, Grookey on his shoulder. Gary seemed unsettled and Goh just looked annoyed—his usual appearance these days.

As Gary approached them, his expression grew more grave. "We need to talk, right now," he announced, looking directly at Ash.

The young champion exchanged glances with Pikachu and Brock, then nodded. He recalled Charcadet and Wattrel, ready to give Gary his full attention. "Okay, what about?"

Gary shifted back and forth on his feet, chewing his lower lip. He glanced around nervously. "Can't see here. It's…a long story."

Ash's stomach growled loudly, and everyone rolled their eyes. "Well, can you tell it over dinner?" Ash suggested, scratching the back of his head.

Gary just sighed.

The Mesagoza theater thrummed with a vibrant energy, each corner of the stage alive with the focus and dedication of the performers, who had begun walking through the week's individual numbers with their Pokémon. The air hummed with music, soft murmurs of concentration, and intermittent with laughter—a lively backdrop to the occasional flare of fire, a whirlwind of petals, or another spectacular Pokémon move. Each performer was ensconced in her own little world as she and her partners worked out their choreography.

Amid this bustling scene, Serena and Sylveon moved with a purposeful grace, weaving through the contained spaces on the stage, their presence a comforting and guiding force. They offered tips and advice on the choreography—add a pirouette here, and a grand jeté there. With gentle words and slight adjustments, they helped shape the performances, their interventions as much a part of the dance as the movements themselves. Serena's connection with the girls was clear in the way she seemed deeply invested and dedicated to their success.

Just after speaking with Ana about possibly tailoring Sprigatito's costume so that the small Pokémon could move more freely without tripping, Serena's attention was unexpectedly drawn to the front of the theater.

Arven had entered, his arms laden with pots, pans, and an assortment of culinary tools and ingredients. Among the clatter of cookware, there were mixing bowls, wooden spoons, cutting boards, and knives—each item a crucial component of a culinary challenge that awaited the performers. Fresh vegetables, herbs, and spices also seemed to be bursting forth from his the bags in his arms.

Serena's face lit up with a bright smile at the sight of him. Without a moment's hesitation, she and Sylveon hopped down from the stage to assist. As the honey-blonde approached, Mabosstiff huffed happily, its large eyes following the performers with a curious interest. Serena quickly bent down to greet Mabosstiff before she moved to help relieve Arven of some of his cumbersome load.

"Thank you so much, Arven," Serena gushed, her gratitude overflowing as she took in the assortment of culinary items he had brought. "I had already sent Kathi-Grace on another errand for me when I realized we had nothing to start practicing our Theme Rounds!"

Ohara and her Fuecoco also came from the stage to help an exhausted though mildly cheerful Arven. "No worries," he waved them off once one of his hands were free, "I had nothing better to do."

Serena chided him as they all began to walk down one of the aisle of the theater. "I'm sure that's not true," she set some of the materials down against the stage. "You're studying to be Paldea's greatest naturalist after all!"

Arven sighed. He really didn't understand how someone could just say such nice things and actually mean them. "No, it's true," he tried to reassure her and Ohara, "I needed to take Mabosstiff out anyway. Especially now that he's been feeling better lately."

Serena's head snapped back to him. "Does that mean…?"

Arven nodded with a small smile. "We still have some ways to go, but I think he's mostly in the clear." The botanist then turned to Ohara to explain, "Mabosstiff wasn't feeling well for a while."

Ohara, her features melting into softness, extended her sympathy to Arven, who nodded in appreciation. Serena couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness at this visible change in the young dirty-blonde trainer—he looked…happy! It was remarkable how the well-being of those around her could so profoundly affect her own mood. Seeing Arven, someone who had been so caught up in his worries and responsibilities, find a moment of relief was uplifting

Caught up in this wave of excitement and moved by a spontaneous impulse, Serena reached out and took Arven's hand, leading him excitedly toward one of the seats near the stage. The action was unthinking, driven by her bubbling enthusiasm and the desire to share a sudden realization that had just sparked in her mind.

"Arven!" she blurted out. She had suddenly remembered an important detail about Arven, one that suddenly seemed incredibly relevant and exciting. "I just remembered that you're a bonafide chef!"

Arven shifted in his new seat, "Okay…" he managed, trailing off into uncertainty. It was clear that the concept Serena was proposing was far outside the scope of his usual activities…

Serena clapped her hands together, her enthusiasm seemed boundless as she began jumping up and down in place. "Do you think you could give the girls some culinary pointers? Remember I only bake and—," she began, her request cut short by her own eagerness.

Ohara, sensing Arven's confusion, quickly jumped in to clarify. "We're going to do a Cooking Performance for the Theme Round this week! That's when performers and their Pokémon cook a dish during a synchronized dance performance. It's why Serena needed you to grab all of those things!"

Arven began to sweatdrop. "Uhhhh," he looked at the stage where all of the girls began to stare at him with a hopeful glimmer lighting up their eyes.

Geez, had he walked into one of Aliquis's dreams? Arven shuddered. That was a horrific thought.

Arven gulped. "Look I'm not really a…"

Before he could finish, Serena clasped his shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. "Of course you are! I've seen you make all sorts of wonderful things!" Serena paused, a subtle shift occurred within her. Perhaps it was the sight of Arven's utterly terrified expression, or maybe the realization that her enthusiasm might have put undue pressure on him, but she suddenly seemed to temper herself. An awkward pause filled the air as she, suddenly aware of her forwardness, felt a rush of embarrassment. She bit her lip and stepped back. "Sorry, actually. I shouldn't push you. I just got excited," she admitted.

Arven closed his eyes and sighed visibly. He couldn't help but feel, well, valued. It was a nice feeling. And he really wasn't that busy…He could always catch up on his studies with one of Nemona's intensives anyway. "Well, only if I get a free ticket to the show," Arven offered with a shy smile, relinquishing this new feeling of sudden importance.

In a burst of shared excitement, Serena and Ohara clasped their hands together and began jumping up and down in unison, their movements synchronized in a spontaneous dance of joy.

Serena then bent down to wrap her arms around Arven's neck, "Thank you, thank you thank you! Oh, this is going to be so fun!" She really had been worried when the girls expressed their desire to cook and not bake for their theme rounds…but now it was all going to work out!

"Yeah," Arven grunted, feeling the lack of oxygen immediately affecting his brain. When the performer pulled away, it took time for his face to revert from its bluish hue while Mabosstiff chortled.

When Serena turned around to announce to the girls a new plan for the evening—one that now included Arven—the botanist watched her with a strange warmth. He was beginning to recognize a feeling that had become unfamiliar to him—Peace? Contentment? These emotions had been sparse in his recent life, overshadowed by the rigors of his studies, the solitude that often accompanied his pursuits, and the fact that he'd lost his parents very young. Yet, here, in this theater filled with friends and laughter, he felt a stirring of something that had been dormant for far too long.

Arven realized that, despite the challenges and unwanted experiences of his recent life, the value of friendship was something he had begun to appreciate more deeply. His adventures with Ash and Brock had opened his eyes to the joy of camaraderie, and even Nemona, with her relentless efforts to include him in more activities (whether he wanted to or not), showed him the importance of being part of a community. It was an acknowledgment of his situation and an attempt to draw him out of his shell. Like with her study group, where Arven had begun to grow closer to Ohara and Hohma. And there was also Aliquis, which was an unexpected development born mostly out of the proximity of their dorm rooms, really. While their interactions were more often centered around Aliquis's romantic endeavors, they too had gotten closer.

Either way, for the first time in his life, Arven had a place to sit in the cafeteria for breakfast, lunch, and dinner…

This realization made the botanist sniff and rub his nose. He was aware of the positive changes that were happening in his life, changes that were slowly but surely leading him towards a sense of happiness and contentment he hadn't felt in a long time. The journey wasn't without its discomforts…that was very clear. But perhaps, Arven thought, having friends—being part of a community that cared for him and wanted him to be part of their lives—was worth embracing, even if it meant stepping outside his comfort zone and into the unpredictable world of interpersonal relationships.

And, of course, there was Serena.

Well, Arven sighed inwardly, it had been a long time since he'd been around anyone that felt like…family.

As he watched the honey-blonde, still bouncing on the tips of her toes while she and some other girls managed to wheel in portable stoves from somewhere offstage, Arven shuddered. "Geez, I'm not trying to get all emotional right now," the botanist groaned to his longtime friend. Mabosstiff only gave his trainer a happy huff.

Arven just shook his head and rubbed his face. For a moment, the Kalosian girl turned back at him to merely radiate with happiness.

And there, the botanist realized with a little smile, that Serena was the first person he'd seen in a long time that really did look like something blooming.

"Wait…you have to do what?" Ash paused abruptly in between mouthfuls of saffron-colored rice that was stacked high on his plate.

As they reconvened in Ash and Goh's room, the air was thick with the aroma of hot breads, olive oil, sweet cheese—all of which they had hurriedly grabbed from the cafeteria. The decision to retreat to a more private setting had been driven by Gary's insistence on discretion, a paranoia that seemed almost out of character but understandable given the circumstances. Despite Ash's "logistical" concerns about how much food they could actually transport at one go, the little group managed to assemble a feast fit for a small party. The floor of the room was now a mosaic of potatoes, meatballs, bread, and an assortment of sodas and juices, all spread out rather haphazardly.

Gary, having just relayed the details of his recent encounter with Navarro and the impending situation, found himself in the uncomfortable position of having to revisit the part of the story he liked least. His brow twitched in annoyance. Despite the privacy of the dorm, the researcher found himself whispering out of a lingering sense of unease about the information he was sharing.

"Navarro is planning to put together battle friendlies for the Gala as entertainment," he muttered, his gaze fixed on the condensation trailing slowly down the side of his caramel-colored soda until it eventually formed a small puddle on the tiled floor. "And I have to battle this guy named Amethio—otherwise known as the trainer Goh has affectionately dubbed, 'The Creepy Guy.'"

"And he looks powerful too," Goh nodded vigorously, stuffing an entire block of cheese—one that was certainly intended to be cut—into his mouth. With swollen cheeks and a pouting Grookey atop his head, the cityboy continued, "At least from the little I saw. He's got a powerful Ceruledge."

"Ceruledge…," Ash exchanged glances with Pikachu before pulling out his Rotom phone to do a quick search.

"Not helping," a vein popped on Gary's forehead.

Brock hummed thoughtfully as he absorbed the information. "So Navarro is just as confused as we are," the Pokédoctor tapped his chin. "But does he think Turo was acting alone? Going rogue with experiments and obsessing over Paradox Pokémon? I just don't understand what's with all the secrecy unless Turo was trying to capture powerful legendaries or something for himself, which doesn't seem to fit the profile if you consider Arven's side of things."

"Yeah," Ash swallowed his food and pointed his fork towards Brock, "Arven said Turo brought Koraidon to the lighthouse as if he was trying to hide it from someone. Why would he hide it from Navarro if they were friends? Wait," Ash thought some more, handing Pikachu another packet of ketchup, "What was Turo even doing for Navarro?"

Gary shook his head, "He hasn't told me. He—," Gary stopped, the weight of his next words hanging heavily in the air. He was visibly struggling with the dilemma of how much to reveal to his friends. The stakes were high; sharing too much could jeopardize his new position under Navarro. He had stumbled upon sensitive information, the kind that, if mishandled with loose lips, could unravel the precarious balance he had managed to maintain.

At first, Gary had intended to tell Ash about Navarro's knowledge regarding Koraidon's whereabouts. Navarro's apparent indifference—or perhaps a calculated patience—regarding all of this was a crucial piece of the puzzle. It could have significant implications, hinting at Navarro's long-term strategies or his underlying motivations.

But, Gary was acutely aware of the potential consequences of sharing this information too freely. Ash, with his strong sense of justice and tendency towards direct action, might react impulsively. A confrontation with Navarro or an appeal to Clavell, could inadvertently expose Gary's breach of confidence. That would not only endanger Gary's role but might also alert Navarro to their suspicions, accelerating whatever plans he might have.

And so Gary changed directions. "I don't think we should trust what Arven says," he began, cringing inwardly at himself. "Not because he's untrustworthy or anything," the researcher quickly added, seeing the waves of suspicion flashing in Ash's eyes, "but this is his dad we're talking about. Some of what he says could be biased or skewed."

"I don't think—," Ash and Pikachu looked both about to object until Brock interrupted.

"Arven wouldn't lie to us on purpose," the Pokédoctor affirmed, "but I think he wants to believe the best of his father, and we just don't have enough evidence to see Turo one way or the other yet."

"Yeah," Gary nodded, glancing quickly at Umbreon who flashed him an uncertain look, "I think we just need to be careful is all. Maybe Turo is the bad guy in all of this."

"There can also be more than one bad guy here," Ash spoke slowly, a little annoyed by the sudden shift in everyone's attitude towards Arven, "Navarro hasn't told you what he had Turo doing there, and now Turo's gone and Koraidon is in hiding with us. Maybe the professor didn't agree with what Tera Industries was doing in the end."

"Maybe…" Gary trailed off, feeling like he just needed to stop talking. While Gary admired that Ash always saw the best in his friends, it was a quality that wasn't helpful when trying to get into the mind of a villain. And so the researcher decided it was time to change gears.

"Alright well," Gary continued, reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulling out a gilt-edged letter. He handed the letter to Ash. "You're invited."

Ash reached out and took the card with a furrowed brow. "What do you mean?" Pikachu peered over his shoulder and sniffed at the sight of the invitation. Ash flipped the letter over in his hands before reading the elegant script. "The Midsummer's Gala?" Ash scoffed, "I'm invited to the gala? Yeah, that's funny."

"You're going," Gary, with a fire in his eyes, he jabbed a finger towards Ash. "Look, not to sound corny and all, but I need you there. I'm also going to need you to help me get ready for my battle with this Amethio guy. Ash, I haven't battled competitively in years and you know how I can get…"

Ash did not need to be reminded. Ash remembered Gary as a competitive trainer—arrogant, flashy; his style of training had been to capture a bunch of Pokémon and to use the strongest, which was a stark contrast to Ash himself, who focused on developing bonds with his partners. However, Gary had come a long way from his old temper and cockiness, and Ash didn't see why the researcher had to be afraid of getting back into battling. He knew the "new" Gary would treat his Pokémon with respect and trust no matter what.

"Don't worry, buddy," Ash gave his long-time rival a small, but teasing smirk, "you really don't have to be worried. You're only twenty-five percent of the jerk you used to be, which is really something."

With his arms folded across his chest, Gary narrowed his eyes. "Okay, Ashy-boy. I'll let you get away with that one. Only because I've really been yanking your chain recently, and I do—kind of—apologize."

Ash smiled triumphantly. "Great!" he continued looking smug, but also raised an excited fist, "And of course I'll help you train for your battle with Amethio. I'll even bring back some of my old team to do it. It'll be awesome!"

Gary sighed and looked physically relieved. "Thanks," he smirked.

"Well," Brock nodded in approval at the two younger men, "I'm glad that worked out."

"But I'm not going to the gala," Ash continued, snorting at the idea. He and Pikachu shared a laugh at the thought of Ash dressing up for something so official and fancy.

Gary's look darkened. "Oh, yes, you are."

Ash and Pikachu's laughter stopped abruptly. The young champion tilted his head with annoyance, "Why? I hate that kind of stuff."

Gary began to chuckle, lowering his gaze towards his folded arms before closing his eyes dramatically altogether, "Because—in addition to needing your moral support—Navarro told me to get you there. I have to do my job, after all. Of course, we'll have to pretend not to know each other."

"But why does Navarro want Ash there?" Goh muttered a bit annoyed.

"Because he's the monarch and he's got people to meet and greet," Gary snorted, jutting his chin towards the irritated champion, "he can't hide from the spotlight forever."

"That's not a good enough reason," Ash grumbled, "Navarro won't distrust you just because you couldn't get me to his stupid party."

Gary sobered up. "Look, You're going to have to start acting like the face of the Pokemon world soon. Whether you like it or not," the researcher looked sternly at Ash, but then decided to go a different route. His expression grew smug and he wagged a finger, "but anyway, I'll give you a second reason, and you have to promise not to come after my throat."

Ash already felt the desire to go after his throat, but he nodded numbly, trying to act like he didn't know where this was going.

Brock looked between the two and somehow managed to hover himself until he sat directly in the middle of them. "Well, we're all left at the edge of our seats," the Pokédoctor chuckled nervously, sharing an anxious glance with Pikachu and Umbreon.

Pikachu also hovered nearby.

"Well, it's really nothing," Gary threw his hands out behind himself to lean on them, "it's just that Serena is going to be there—as Kalos Queen, she's always invited to these things. And, I don't know, maybe she'll appreciate having you nearby in case some creep tries to hit on her or something. Maybe she'll need…an escort."

Gary popped a nearby olive into his mouth and grinned as the steam blew from Ash's ears. While the researcher had meant everything in earnest, he couldn't help but make it all sound a tad pointed.

"So what if she gets hit on? She's hot and gets hit on all the time—even I'm not that blind," Goh decided to interrupt, more annoyed than ever now that Ash was acting all weird again. Something inside the cityboy snapped and he began to raise his voice. "What's going on, huh?" he whirled on Ash, "Why've you been acting like you have a Magikarp for a brain these days. It's like you're here but not sometimes. Like, I'll be talking to you but you're a thousand miles away. And you know what—now that I think about it—you've been like this ever since we saw Serena at that Welcome Ceremony!"

Ash blinked, feeling suddenly ashamed and terrible. "I," he began, his mouth working soundlessly over his thoughts, "It's…"

Pikachu looked between the two friends and then glanced at Grookey, who seemed to be waiting for some sort of explanation from the Electric rodent. Pikachu sweatdropped and looked back at Ash as though they'd just been caught in some kind of maze that had no exit, "Pika…Pikachu…"

Ash waved his hands in front of him as though trying to backpedal. "Look—I'll go, I'll go to the gala, okay? Can we just," he made a circular motion with one hand, as if turning a dial or wheel, "move on?"

Goh huffed but didn't press the subject. Part of him tried not to even care.

Also sensing it was best to move on, Gary clapped his hands together and rubbed them with anticipation. "Great! So when do we start training?"

"Tomorrow night," Ash sighed, happy for the subject change, but still not feeling much better, "If this gala is Saturday, then we don't have a lot of time. We can train in that field I take Koraidon to—that way I can let him out while we work." Ash lifted his hat to run a hand through his hair, "Who do you plan on having on your team? Do we know what kind of battle we're looking at?"

"Not sure," Gary sighed, rubbing his chin, "But I doubt we'll be using full parties. I think I'll call up Oak tomorrow and have him send over Arcanine. That way I have at least three Pokémon ready."

Ash nodded. "Sounds good. I'll call tomorrow too and bring back some old friends," Ash grinned, "and then we'll have ourselves a proper training session!"

"Alright!" Gary smiled too, mirroring Ash's raised fist.

The group's focus soon shifted back to their plates, the clinking of utensils against dishes punctuating the earlier tension. At some point, Gary checked the time and decided it was time to leave, mentioning something about having to update Larry, which really meant nothing to the others. Brock, with a grunt of effort, stood back up as well, seeing as he should probably prepare for tomorrow's lesson.

Soon, it was just Ash and Goh left alone. They sat on the floor, picking at the last of the food. At some point, both were on the verge of saying something, but just as one or the other was about to speak, he would halt abruptly—and the words faded into silence.

Sorry if this chapter was boring to some of you, but I do actually need to work on setting up the plot sometimes. Sigh. And so, how I often make this interesting to write for myself (lol) is by maybe thinking too hard, or writing too much, about complicated character dynamics. I am well-aware that this chapter could have probably been heavily cut in some scenes, but I like describing things so…sue me.

*A note about the Spanish: Isabel and Guillermo address each other in the usted form in order to manufacture a cold tension between their exchange. I have been told that normally Spaniards do not use such formalities. Also, thank you to Geekgirles who is always helping me with said Spanish! :D

*As for the Paldean Government, while I imagine this will be explained later on, I will just put some notes about the government I have "created" for the purposes of this fic down below:

Title: The Oligarchic Federation of Governors (OFG)

The Council of Governors: The government is led by a Council of Governors, each representing a specific Province essential to the state's functioning, such as economy, defense, agriculture, education, and healthcare. Governors elected by the general public of their respective Province. The Council operates on a consensus or majority voting mechanism for decision-making, depending on the issue at hand. If there was in any way a tie during this decision-making process, the governor of Mesagoza would have the final say. There are four Areas/Provinces; therefore, four governors. We have yet to meet the others. However, Isabel is also called the governor of Mesagoza, as that is the largest city in her Province. Technically speaking, she is the Governor of the Southern Province. Other governors will also be referred to by their being the governor of [insert Province's major city].

*Arven is not in love with Serena. Just thought I would tackle that misinterpretation right away. While their relationship is definitely more nuanced than just "friendship," hopefully I have started to convey that the two share more of a familial bond. But I could have failed miserably, and so here I am pleading my case. But Arven feels no romantic attraction to Serena, but he does feel very connected to her.

*Homecoming is fictionally added into school life here in order prepare students for the Treasure Hunt. It is the same night as the gala, so we'll be event hopping.