Chapter Two: Out to Pasture
Sun spent the remainder of his evening cooking dinner and waiting to see whether or not the girl would awaken before the professor arrived home. He certainly hoped she would, but at around eight, as he languished at the dining table, nursing a bowl of fried rice he had no appetite for, his hopes were dashed.
"Alola, Sun!"
"Alola, Professor," Sun said, his face contorting into a strained smile as Kukui came through the door. From the tattered lab coat he donned and the Rockruff at his feet, Sun could guess exactly where he'd been. "Out training again?"
"I was for a little while," Kukui said, scratching his bearded chin, "but the kahuna needed to discuss something important with me. I would have liked to have been home sooner, but..."
The man trailed off as he saw their new guest out cold on the couch. Sun rose from his seat at the table, preemptively moving to explain: "Um, this is, uh, someone I found out on the beach. I was playing volleyball with the gang when I spotted her. She was dehydrated - well, we think she was dehydrated - so I gave her some water."
Kukui's Rockruff ran over to leap onto the sofa and sniff the new arrival, his tongue lolling out. Sun continued. "When she woke up, she told me she needed to see Professor Burnet."
At this, Kukui raised his eyebrows. "Burnet? Why?"
"She didn't tell me," Sun said. Any speculation he might have had on the subject would inevitably be informed by The Incident, and he certainly wasn't going to let Kukui in on that. He looked down into his bowl, picking at his rice and mumbling, "I let her come here to take a shower and gave her some of my clothes, but she fell asleep before I could get her to tell her anything about herself. Even her name."
"Burnet's work is a bit, er, esoteric," Kukui said, lowering his voice as he came to take a closer look at the girl. "I can't imagine what she could need her for."
"That's what I said, too," Sun said. If he were being honest with himself, he'd admit he'd been assuming this entire time she had some variety of mental disability. But he didn't even dare consider the implications of such. "She seemed to be having a bit of trouble communicating with me, sir."
Kukui shook his head. "Cousin, I told you, you've gotta stop calling me 'sir'."
Sun went red. "Uh, right, sorry."
His mother had taught him to treat adults with the utmost respect and formality, and even after five months, he still found it hard not to keep the professors at arm's length. They were so human, and all too often he felt as if he were merely pretending to be.
"It's all right," Kukui said as he examined the girl for injuries. "Thanks for the dinner, by the way. I can smell it from all the way over here."
"It's no trouble," Sun responded mechanically.
As he sat down to partake in Sun's meal, Kukui praised him further - how delicious it was! He'd truly gotten the hang of cooking, and so quickly, too. That sort of self-reliance, Kukui insisted, would go far when he became a Trainer. Sun told him exactly what he wanted to hear - that he was happy, that he loved cooking, that he was so excited to go off on his own - but his mind was elsewhere.
Once the professor had calmed, he stared down at himself, turning his fork over and over in his fingers. "I'm tired. It's been a long day."
"I'm sure it has," Kukui said. "Go get some rest, kid. You've got an even longer day ahead of you tomorrow. I'll call Burnet first thing in the morning, and we can get things straightened out right away with our new guest."
Sun nodded. He slouched as he made his way to the ladder; as he passed by the girl, his eyes wandered, and he paused, frowning. "Should we really just let her sleep through the night here on the couch?"
Kukui shrugged. "She seems fine there, and we don't have anywhere better for her to sleep - unless you want to give up your loft."
Not a chance.
But Sun could extend a smaller kindness to her. In the wake of the deal, he'd been wondering if she'd made a similar pact, and if so, what sort of desperation had driven her to agree to be a demon's puppet. If she even had the mental faculties to know she had agreed to such a thing.
A cotton blanket would protect her from the harsh chill of night. This one, retrieved from one of Sun's dresser drawers, was eggshell white and dotted with crimson hearts. He draped it over her, calling out, "Good night, Kukui. Good night, Rockruff." And quieter: "Good night, new friend."
"Good night, Sun," Kukui said in between sips from a mug of herbal tea.
As tired as he was, Sun knew sleep would not stick with him easily. Nearly every night since the funeral, he'd awakened to a silent house and a sunless sky. Sometimes, when he knew there was nothing else for him, he'd sneak out onto the beach and watch the resolute waves crashing down, one after another. On nights like those, he was glad Kukui was such a heavy sleeper.
"Good night, Murkrow," he murmured as he settled onto his cot, pulling his comforter over himself. The Pokemon hardly seemed to notice as it preened its dark feathers, and it was only then Sun realized how stupid it was to say good night to a nocturnal Pokemon. Soon it would take off to meet with its family and conspire with its boss Honchkrow, and return in the early morning for food and a safe place to rest. Over time, the professors' house had become a haven for the outcasts, the lost ones, the unwanted. Kindness cost nothing and yet was worth the world entire.
As he'd predicted, sleep abandoned Sun sometime after midnight, off to give its gift to those it deemed more worthy. So he stared at the ceiling, numb to it all, until his consciousness caught up to him and he could think clearly again. The light was off downstairs, giving him the feeling his cot was a lifeboat adrift on an ocean of shadow.
He leaned over to catch a glimpse of the digital clock he kept on his desk. Its bright red LED display seared into his eyes: "12:44 AM".
Slumping back, he let out a muted sigh. Damn insomnia: he hadn't even gotten four hours in. He closed his weary eyes and conjured up a familiar scene: a ranch, fashioned in the image of one he'd seen on television. A nice open-air pasture, packed to the brim with fluffy, guileless Mareep. The grass which grew there was the greenest, most delectable grass a Pokemon could ever taste, and every Mareep who lived in the pasture was fully content with their life.
(If Sun was going to imagine himself a shepherd, he wanted his fictional charges to at least be happy.)
There was but one issue: because the grass was of such high quality, the Mareep who consumed it ended up tasting exceptionally delicious as well. At least, that was the opinion of the packs of Lycanroc roaming this area. They knew exactly how to take advantage of a guardian's turned back, and if Sun was to keep his Mareep safe, he must be endlessly vigilant.
So the counting began: one, two, three, four...
(A slight creak from the downstairs sofa.)
...fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty...
(The tap of footsteps on unlaminated wood.)
...one hundred twenty-four, one hundred twenty-five, one hundred twenty-six...
The light flicked on, and the idyll dissolved in an instant as Sun snapped his eyes open. Although his muscles were every bit as tired as his mind, he forced himself to sit up and weigh his options.
Knew she wouldn't sleep through the night.
Now did he have a million questions for her.
The pitter-patter of her footsteps didn't slow. She was pacing. Anxious. Even with only the brief glimpse of her he caught as he crept towards the ladder, he could see her movements were far more fluid and effortless than the night before.
He descended, raising a hand to catch her attention. "Um, hi," he greeted, keeping his voice hushed - after all, they wouldn't want to be inconsiderate and awaken the professor at this hour, would they?
"WHERE AM I?! WHO ARE YOU?! WHAT HAPPENED TO MY CLOTHES?!"
The girl had stopped pacing and now held fast onto the edge of the couch. Her bloodshot eyes only added to her Deerling-in-headlights effect. Sun tensed and put his finger to his lips to shush her in a wildly overexaggerated manner. "Quiet down. Do you want to wake the whole island?"
She clammed up; took one last long inhale - and then scooped up her drum bag and dashed out the front door.
The hell's her problem?
Maybe he should let her go and simmer down, he thought. After all, she seemed to be a tad… unstable. She could probably use some time alone.
But she needs my help. We're kindred spirits now, I guess...
He sighed, flicked off the light she'd left on, and tip-toed his way out the door.
The silvery light overhead illuminated their surroundings, and he spotted her at once. She hadn't gone very far. She'd stopped at the edge of the water, head cocked to the right, staring down the seemingly endless stretch of jagged coastline. As Sun made his approach, she turned back to him, holding her hands up in despair like a thief caught at the end of an alleyway. "Please, don't..."
"I'm not going to hurt you," he reassured her. "Don't you remember me from yesterday?"
"I've never seen you before in my life," the girl said, taking a step backwards.
"I found you passed out on this very beach yesterday," he reminded her. "You woke up and talked to me, and you chose to come back here with me. You were the one who changed into those clothes - I loaned them to you. Did the heat do something to your brain?"
The girl shook her head. "I wouldn't have changed into these clothes." She looked down at herself, and her lip curled. "You must have... You must have done it yourself, then. You must have touched me."
"What? No!" Sun reddened at the accusation; at the awful way she'd worded it. How could she not remember? "I wouldn't do that to a girl; I promise!"
And then the pieces fit together - the amnesia, the drastic shift in her movements and speech patterns, the demon's claim the night before - perhaps it was only the chill of the night, but Sun shivered.
Hot bile rose in his throat, and he swallowed it back, disgusted with himself. "Um, I mean, your clothes were wet, so I gave you some of mine. I thought you might have been uncomfortable in your old ones. You know," he added, ready to pull her into the delusion, "I thought you might have had a head injury or something - you were acting a little, um, uh, drowsy, so that's probably why you don't remember. I guess it was the heat after all." A nervous chuckle escaped his lips, and he gave a simple shrug: 'what can you do?'
The girl still narrowed her eyes. "...How much did I tell you about me?"
"You told me you wanted to see Professor Burnet," Sun said, and a rush of satisfaction coursed through him as her eyes widened. Confirmation. It emboldened him, and he continued despite the risk: "And you told me about your Pokemon."
"About..." The girl paused - then zipped open her bag to peek at the listless Pokemon. The veil of darkness accentuated the Pokemon's luminescence, and its brush painted her skin indigo. As her gaze came to rest on Sun once more, she bit her lip. "About Nebby?"
"Yep, all about Nebby," Sun said, happy to finally have something to call it by. Not the sort of name he would have chosen, but...
The girl closed up her bag, shutting her eyes; deep in thought. A wave came too far in, bathing her bare feet, ankles, and the edges of her pant legs in moon-stained water, and she hissed, her focus disturbed.
"Come back over here," Sun advised, waving her over. He hopped up the steps leading to the lab and flicked on the light switch beside the door, illuminating the porch area. "You never told me your name," he said. "You can call me Sun."
"I'm Lillie," the girl mumbled as she hesitantly took her place beside him on the steps. She hugged her knees close to her chest. "With an -ie."
"That's a nice name," Sun said, and he rambled: "I've never heard it spelled like that before. But it sounds nice. Nicer than the normal way, I think."
Lillie glanced up at him. "'Normal way'?"
"Um, yeah? 'Cause it's usually spelled with a y."
Lillie looked down again, brushing grains of sand and grit from between her toes. "Normal way," she repeated.
He'd only said that to break the ice (and to distract himself from the lie he'd spun), but the maneuver appeared to have backfired. He hadn't intended to make her feel out of place. There wasn't much space for both of them on the steps, and despite the fact their shoulders were almost brushing, the distance between them had only expanded.
Lillie held out her open palm in front of her, examining it, as if she weren't sure it was real. "I must have trusted you," she remarked, "to tell you about Nebby so soon. Or did they jump out of the bag and reveal themself to you?"
Sun pursed his lips. "You could say that."
She relaxed, even chuckling a little. "Ah. Yes, they don't really enjoy being cooped up in tight spaces. They're a free spirit, I believe."
"Yeah," Sun said, hoping she wouldn't notice the waver in his voice. He shut his eyes; then blurted: "Are you a Trainer? You look like you're old enough to have started your island challenge. Or, or, the gym challenge, or whatever it is where you're from."
Determining her age was difficult. Sun guessed she must have been older than him - she must have been at least five feet tall, and he was but a lowly 4'6" - but he was short for his age anyway, and she didn't have facial acne or any other of the various tells accompanying one's teen years.
"Huh?" A sadness seemed to creep over her, and she tensed up again, clutching her bag strap. "No, I… I could never bear to do anything like that. I hate seeing Pokemon get hurt."
The notion of not wanting to be a Trainer was foreign to him - he wasn't sure he'd ever met anyone without at least a little interest in the practice. For as long as he could remember, Pokemon battling had been the number one topic of discussion among his peers. If one asked any given Alolan child what they wanted to be when they grew up, there was about a fifty-fifty chance the answer would be "Pokemon Trainer". And Alola didn't even have an official League branch yet.
Sun might not have pored over every Trainer strategy guide on the market the way Mizuki did, but there was no doubt in his mind Pokémon Training was the path he wanted to take in life. There never had been. So for this girl, this strange foreign girl, to be so dismissive about it, so dispassionate... it stupefied him. Offended him, even: he heard an embedded accusation of Trainers hurt their Pokemon.
"But, I mean, they don't get that hurt," he said. "If you follow the League rules and don't push them past the point of fainting, they'll be totally fine. People wouldn't want to do it if it were cruel to them."
Lillie shook her head. "I'm not completely against the concept," she clarified. "I find some appeal in the strategic aspect of it, actually. I just wouldn't want to participate in it myself."
"That's fair." Sun leaned back, staring at the neglected porch roof. The wood, as a consequence of Alola's abundant rain, had taken to hosting a colony of mold; the smattering of yellow-greenish patches reminded him of healing bruises on tanned skin. "I'm going to become one today," he said. "A Trainer, I mean. The kahuna's going to give me my first partner Pokémon."
Lillie blinked. "Kahuna?"
"Oh... that's what we call our, um..." Sun searched for the right word to describe them. Religious leaders? That was technically true, but it wasn't the best term - people like Tenshiro were religious leaders, but they weren't kahunas. "Our chosen."
"Cho-sen," Lillie repeated, enunciating each syllable.
"Yeah. But not who we choose - not us regular people. It's the Tapu - the island guardians, our deities - who choose them." A bit of bitterness welled up in Sun again. "But they don't really make the best choices, I think."
"You don't like who they chose?"
"No, no - Kahuna Hala's great. I mean, he's been kahuna since like, before most of the people on Melemele were even born. He's actually my friend Hau's grandfather, so we get to see each other a lot. Do you - I guess you wouldn't remember Hau. He was with me when we found you."
Lillie locked eyes with Sun, and stared, and stared, and stared, until he felt like a bacterium under a microscope, trapped and squirming beneath a glass slide.
"You have friends?"
He could tell by the way she said it that she didn't mean the way the question sounded - her tone was almost… reverent. It caught him by surprise, and he stared back in silence for a few moments, his mouth agape like a Magikarp's.
"Um, yeah! Of course," he forced out at last. "Don't you?"
It was funny how things always seemed to turn out: it was only as soon as the words left his mouth that he grasped how wrong it was to say them. Lillie developed the same Deerling-in-headlights look she had when he'd first confronted her, and her eyes misted over.
"Um," she whispered, her bottom lip trembling, "no, actually."
Sun wasn't socially adept enough to comfort her before the tears came. Just his luck - he was no stranger to the pain of social alienation, of ostracism, and to inflict that pain on another was, to him, one of the worst crimes one could commit.
"Suh... sorry," he mumbled, watching her take her face into her hands. Something had come to click for him, however - no friends, no family, no place to go. Completely vulnerable. The perfect prey for some amoral predator to take full advantage of.
And that boiled his blood - the image of her in her disturbed sleep, with that vulturous smirk on her face. A haze had already descended over the memory, both due to his lack of sleep and his brain's attempt to shove it into the darker crevices of his mind. But he could not imagine it ever escaping him.
"It's all right," Lillie reassured him, but he still flinched at the cracking of her voice. She didn't sound as if she believed herself.
"You know," he said, "you should come with me tomorrow to meet my friends. Professor Kukui - he lives here with me; he's asleep right now - said he was going to call Professor Burnet and tell her about you, so you don't have to worry about that for now. We can hang out together after my promotion ceremony. But it starts at nine, so we'd have to get up pretty early."
"I can get up early," Lillie said. The edges of her eyelids were still red and puffy. "But... would you really want me there?"
"Yeah. My friends are both super cool. I already told you about Hau. He's for sure the most energetic kid I know. I promised him I'd take him to the malasada shop in Hau'oli after we get our Pokémon, so I guess that's what we'll be doing tomorrow." (He knew he'd end up being the one to pay for it - somehow Hau, without fail, always forgot his wallet at home and had to bum change off Sun.) "And then there's Mizuki. She's, uh..." He deliberated on how to phrase it without disparaging his friend. "She can be kind of abrasive at times, but she's really awesome when you get to know her. They're probably both worried about you."
Lillie shrunk away, evidently disturbed. "I don't want them to worry over me," she whispered.
"Well, that's why you have to come with me. So they can see that you're fine," Sun reasoned.
There was an ulterior motive behind this - he couldn't allow her or her companion out of sight. Who knew what sort of damage Nebby could do if left unchecked? Sure, it was a risk bringing the two out in public, but... he let out a drawn-out sigh.
Lillie fixed her attention on the overhead porch light, which had attracted a swarm of tiny Bug-Types Sun recognized as Cutiefly. How strange. It wasn't usual for Cutiefly to venture this far out, as they preferred to buzz around the pollen-rich meadows dotting the northern side of the island. Perhaps they'd established a nest around here.
He smiled. He'd always been fascinated by the Bee Fly Pokemon, and he couldn't wait to have one of his very own. If the cluster stuck around here the next few days, he'd certainly make one his ally.
The flitting of their wings stilled momentarily, clearing his mind enough for him to rebuke himself. No, he hadn't even gotten his first Pokémon yet, and here he was already thinking about his second. He couldn't let himself be prideful enough to assume the future was certain. Not anymore.
"I think we should get back inside," Lillie said at last, before a large yawn overtook her. "I suppose," she continued, turning to make eye contact, "if it'll make you happy, I'll come with you."
"Perfect," Sun said. His jaws twitched as he resisted his own compulsion to yawn. "Just perfect."
The pasture called to him as he returned to his bed. It seemed the Lycanroc had taken advantage of his momentary distraction - there was a fresh spot of red on the corral's perimeter, and the poor flock of Mareep hardly seemed to notice.
There was no way to tell what time he finally caught sleep again, or why it took pity on him enough to return, but when Sun did at last come down from dreamland, he was met with Lillie crouching next to him, hesitantly prodding his shoulder with the tips of her fingers.
"Sun?"
Still drowsing, he shoved his head under the covers to escape her touch. "No, not yet, please..."
"Sun, you said we had to be there at nine. You seemed so comfortable, so I really didn't want to wake you, but…"
Reluctantly he slid himself back up. He rubbed his eyes, making sure she knew the full extent of his annoyance. "Well, what time is it, then? Eight?"
"It's ten."
That woke him up. "What?! Ten?! Holy-! Why didn't you-?"
He groaned and practically leaped out of bed, startling the poor girl. "I'm so screwed, I'm so screwed, I'm so screwed... It's probably over by now already..."
He shooed her back down the ladder and snatched a clean pair of his uniform out of his bottom drawer. For the boys at the lower school, it was a plain white tee with sky-blue shorts - very casual, but that was the sort of way things were run over at 'Ale K-8 School. Yet another element he'd have to say goodbye to, as with middle school came garish green khaki pants and suffocating neckties.
In the middle of changing, he called down to her. "You haven't happened to see Kukui, have you?"
"I have, actually," Lillie replied. "His leaving awakened me, and we spoke together briefly. I told him what I told you, essentially. He said he was planning to come to your ceremony, but something important came up."
Sun yanked his shirt over his head. "Must be really important for him to miss my big day."
"He didn't tell me what the occasion was," Lillie said. "He said he'd make it up to you somehow..."
Without another word, Sun slid down the ladder, and it was only by some miracle he didn't fall flat on his face. He beckoned Lillie to follow him out the door, glad she had already been washed up and dressed in a clean pair of the same clothes as yesterday. A large-brimmed sunhat sat upon her head, and her platinum blonde hair was impeccably brushed, with not a single strand askew. She kept her shoulders and back arched forward in an attempt to look smaller than she was.
"Normally you have to go through tall grass to get to Hau'oli," Sun explained as the two trudged over a sand dune, "but I know a shortcut. Unfortunately, it's a bit of a tight squeeze."
At the edge of the sand lay a row of untamed shrubs. To the common observer it would seem impenetrable, but after years of daily exploration, Sun knew better. A shadow indicated an opening just wide enough for a preteen to fit through, and he led Lillie through the underbrush without much trouble save for the occasional branch jutting out or the few exposed roots underfoot.
The serenity of the path caught him in its lull. Here, the only sounds were the gentle whispering of the breeze and the intermittent warblings of Pikipek in the canopies above. "It's really nice here when there's no one around," he said. "Too bad there's almost always little kids around here when school's not in session. Sometimes Hau and I used to skip, just to-"
He stopped himself from divulging any more. Considering what he'd seen of her so far, he doubted she'd find it something worth bragging about.
"Um, I mean, there are always kids around here trying to find Pokemon. Since it has such a good safety rating - it's the best-rated in Alola, actually, a perfect one - they think they can just stomp around like it's their own personal playground. A lot of kids here get Pokemon earlier than they're supposed to. Little weak ones for them to practice with, like Caterpie and Rattata." Sun shook his head. "My mom never let me have one so young."
"Why not?"
"She thought I wouldn't be mature enough to take care of it," Sun said, shrugging. "In retrospect, she was probably right."
A little squeal sounded from behind him. Sun stopped and turned to see Lillie readjusting herself, having stumbled over a tree root. Her eyes went wide when she noticed Sun staring, and he whirled back around and started on again.
"You know, I once heard about a Vikavolt that actually started nesting on this route," he blathered. "Normally the island challenge volunteers chase away strong Pokémon so kids and idiot tourists don't wander off and get themselves killed, but somehow this one slipped through the cracks and started wreaking havoc. It took a whole party of like twenty Trainers from Iki Town to take it down, and the only reason they risked themselves doing it was because the region threatened to fine them for having signs up with the wrong safety rating."
"Why didn't they just change the signage, then?"
Sun stopped and turned around again. He let out a chuckle, believing it to be a joke, but Lillie was stone-faced.
"Wha - why would they do that?"
"Well, I mean..." Lillie looked at her feet, bashful. "Wouldn't it be easier to just change the safety rating? That way people wouldn't get hurt, and the Vikavolt could live there in peace."
Sun actually had no idea how to respond to this. It was a suggestion born of pure ignorance - everyone knew how much Route One meant to the Trainers of Melemele. It was iconic! No measly Vikavolt would rob Alola of one of the few places locals felt safe going to to connect with their environment.
Lillie, understanding she'd said something wrong but incognizant of what about it was wrong, shied away from him. Sun kept going through the underbrush but wasn't in the mood for any more conversation.
The dirt road turned to paved asphalt underneath their feet as the bushes opened up to the Hau'oli city limit. Sun led Lillie down the road, grateful the two wouldn't have much farther to go. The chain-link fence denoting the start of the school zone had been painted a cheery teal, serving as a brilliant contrast to the orange patches of rust speckling it like a pox. It was almost ghastly to see the blacktop and battling fields barren of students at this hour.
The double doors marking the entrance to the school stood tall and heavy. Sun thought they might be locked, but as he tried one, the door came open without much force.
And a crowd of students and their families came plodding through the other side, forcing the two to duck out of their way.
"Glad we're finally out of this place."
"Can't wait to hit the beach."
"Ilima's speech sucked this time around. I think he's losing his touch."
A stab of disappointment struck him as he realized exactly what this meant. When the crowd had passed, he rushed through the door, with Lillie close behind. Clots of parents and children lined the atrium outside the auditorium, awaiting the return of their celebrated students. The duo stopped in the center while Sun scanned the area for anyone familiar.
"I don't like crowds," Lillie murmured, clinging ever-tighter to Sun's arm. He nudged her away.
"Gimme a little space. You're practically on top of me."
A chorus of voices called out from several yards away. "There you are, Sun."
His attention captured, he spun around towards the source of the greeting - a group of seven lingering by a twin pair of drinking fountains. The Kazakami family.
Oh no.
Mizuki's father, Tenshiro, was a tall, slender man rarely seen without his ceremonial garments - a black suit and tie monogrammed with an unfamiliar symbol resembling a sun peeking over a sea's horizon. If you looked at it from a certain angle, Sun thought, the symbol also resembled the scrunched-together face of a wrinkly old Meowth. Even though many of the families present were also dressed in formal wear, he still seemed overdressed.
Sun sometimes found it difficult to believe Tenshiro's wife, Yūra, had given birth to the outspoken Mizuki - he could count on one hand the amount of times he'd heard her talk in his entire time knowing her. She carried the youngest Kazakami, the infant Mirai, in her arms, and the slight protrusion of her abdominal area indicated another on the way.
Mizuki's other three sisters hovered by their mother. Sun had always suspected they'd harbored a dislike for him, and the suspicion in their gazes did nothing to disprove his hypothesis. The oldest of the trio at nine years old, Miki, resembled a slightly younger version of Mizuki, save for the fact she kept her hair in braids as opposed to Mizuki's bob-cut. Sun knew her quite well - when they'd been younger, Miki had tended to follow Mizuki everywhere at the latter's behest. At best, she was a nuisance; at worst, a serial liar and a tattletale.
He didn't know the younger two, Misao and Minami, to the same extent. At four and six respectively, Mizuki certainly wouldn't have any desire to let them in on the older kids' shenanigans.
"Hello, Sun," Tenshiro said, his voice slick and lacquered as always. "We were looking for you during the procession. I'm glad to see you made it here."
"I was actually…" Sun stammered as he abruptly switched his story. "I, um, got stage fright, actually. I was feeling kind of nauseous, so I didn't end up going up there. Sorry…?"
Miki narrowed her eyes. "You got stage fright? You know you don't have to do anything but walk up and grab a sheet of paper, right?"
"That's too bad," Tenshiro said, ignoring his daughter's interjection. He gestured towards Lillie, who again pressed herself against Sun's arm. "Now, who's this here?"
"This is my friend Lillie," Sun said, wary. The last thing he needed was the Kazakamis getting their noses in his business. "She's not from around here. She's visiting from another region."
Lillie gave him a sideways glance, but Tenshiro held out his hand for her to shake, pulling her attention away. A moment passed before she obliged him.
"You have quite a weak handshake," Tenshiro remarked. "That's odd, because you also possess a strong aura. One of the strongest I've felt in a while. In the past, I've found hand grip strength and aura are positively correlated. Check your palm, young one."
She opened her palm to discover a small white piece of cardstock: a business card, typeset with a purplish cursive font. In the bottom right corner was a stock illustration of a white Pidove in mid-flight, olive branch in talon.
TENSHIRO KAZAKAMI
Spiritual Guide of the Children of Starlight
She frowned, unsure as to how the card had ended up in her hand. "What... what is this?"
Tenshiro smiled knowingly. "It's my 'business' card... of course, when most of us speak of business, they speak of the material kind. The sort that won't matter in very long. My business, on the other hand, is of a spiritual nature. If you ever find yourself in a dark place, my friend, give me a call."
Not even at his own daughter's graduation could the man restrain himself from shilling his "new-age religion". Sun rolled his eyes.
Misao piped up, raising her tiny hand: "You guys heard Mizuki's speech, right?"
Sun might have heard Mizuki would have been doing something among those lines. It was almost as if she'd been reminding him daily for the past two months since she'd found out she'd be getting the privilege. After all, only the student with the best grades would ever be granted such an opportunity. Wasn't he jealous? Wasn't he just burning with envy? If he had really wanted it, he should have studied forty hours a week too, and he shouldn't have let something so trivial get in the way of -
Sun shook his head, cleansing himself of the burgeoning irritation. Nothing good awaited him at the end of that path. "Nope. Didn't watch. Was it any good?"
"It was wonderful," Tenshiro assured him. "Simply wonderful. I'm quite proud of how far she has come over these years - how far you all have come. You've all grown into such mature young men and women."
"Thank you, sir," Sun said, but his attention was elsewhere. Beside him, Lillie shuffled her feet, seeming just as eager as Sun to get away from the family. The easily distracted Minami had taken to playing with the trim of the older girl's skirt, and Lillie was too timid to push her away.
A swift roundhouse kick to Sun's lower back sent him off balance, and he tumbled and crashed to the ground. Before he could register what had happened, his attacker released their Pokemon, and a large bubble floated through the air and popped on the tip of his nose. He flinched, letting out a pathetic squeak.
"What do you think you're doing here, idiot?"
The blue seal Pokemon who'd "attacked" him hopped over to the fallen boy, clapping its flippers together, oblivious to its Trainer's fury. Mizuki loomed over them, her fists clenched. A vein in her forehead looked about ready to burst.
"Mizuki," Tenshiro said, unperturbed, "violence is never the answer."
As Lillie helped Sun to his feet, looking apologetic, Sun scrambled to get a hold on the different threads in his brain. If he couldn't get his story straight, he was at risk of having Mizuki out him as a liar to her whole family.
"I'm sorry, Dad," Mizuki said with a cadence implying otherwise. "I allowed my anger to boil over and overtake me. It won't happen again."
"Deep breaths," Tenshiro instructed. "Count to ten."
Mizuki shut her eyes as her sisters skipped over to her new Pokemon, who chirped in elation. "New friend," Minami greeted, and laughed as the Pokemon blew a bubble in her direction. "What's 'er name?"
Sun examined the Pokemon. The assault had set his mind off its course, and it took a few moments for the name of its species to come to him. "That's a Popplio, isn't it? How did you get your Pokemon already?"
Mizuki reopened her eyes, letting out a deep sigh. The compulsory meditation appeared to have done its job. "Kahuna Hala let me have her early since I already knew for sure which one I wanted," she said. Her lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk. "I didn't even have to look at the other two. All the strategy guides say Popplio's the best one."
The three sisters parted to allow Lillie to crouch down between them. She cautiously reached out to pat the Popplio on the head, and let out a squeak of surprise when the Pokemon rewarded her with a bubble.
"Her name's Harmony," Mizuki boasted. "That's what it's always been meant to be. A girl Popplio, and her name would be Harmony."
A sharp wail cut through the air. Yūra held the bundle in her arms closer to her, murmuring soothing words. Like a magic spell, the reassurance calmed the baby down in seconds, and she settled back into peaceful neutrality.
Lillie approached the woman, her hands clasped behind her back. "She's a very cute baby, miss," she said, the corners of her mouth upturned in a hint of a smile.
Yūra, shocked anyone had actually addressed her, stumbled over her words. For a fraction of a second, her eyes darted over to Tenshiro. "Thank you, em… Lillie, was it?"
Lillie bowed her head. Mizuki, likely incensed at no longer being the center of attention, practically shoved her mother out of her way.
"You! Girl! What's your deal?"
Lillie got that Deerling-in-headlights look again, and stepped back, clamming up. "I don't - what do you -"
Sun tapped Mizuki on the shoulder. The sudden contact reminded the girl of her previous anger, and she swiveled around and snatched Sun's wrist. "Oh, I'm not done with you."
He winced at the intensity of her grip. Any harder and she would snap it like a toothpick. "Can we talk in private? It's kinda important."
"Not many private places around here," Mizuki said, gesturing with her free hand to all the families still loitering around the atrium.
"We could go outside," Sun suggested. "Also, please let go."
For a few painful seconds, Mizuki considered this. Then, without another word, she yanked him by the arm and began to tug him to the far door leading to the schoolyard. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing a smile through the pain. "Hey, Lillie," he called. "Come on."
Mizuki stopped. "Oh, she's coming, too? I thought this was a private chat."
"I brought her so she could meet you guys," Sun explained. "She was so out of it last night she didn't even remember us finding her. Her first impression of you was you attacking me unprovoked."
Her grip on him loosened, and he took the opportunity to wriggle free. Lillie caught up to the two as they exited the building and headed towards a red fenced enclosure on the far side of the schoolyard. Harmony trailed her Trainer, but as her flippers weren't optimized for land travel, it was difficult for her to keep pace.
"Good," Mizuki said. The gate let out a shrill squeak and the trio and Pokemon passed through. "Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?"
"I wanted to apologize," Sun said, his words measured. "I had trouble sleeping last night, and I ended up waking up late and couldn't get here in time to watch your speech. It wasn't a personal attack on you."
I'm sorry I bruised your fragile ego, Mizuki.
A silence fell over the children. Sun followed Mizuki's eyes to a boisterous group of students playing tag on the other side of the fence. Lillie milled around in front of them, observing Harmony's keen interest in a wild Alolan Grimer lurking at the edge of the stone wall. The Popplio waved her flipper as if greeting it; the Grimer hissed in response.
"It's not a problem," Mizuki said at last. "I... I'm sorry, too. For kicking you. I was being stupid."
Harmony hopped over to the Grimer and blew it a bubble, as a gesture of friendship. The gesture she received in return was a slap to the face, prompting her to dash back over to Mizuki to cower behind her ankles. The girl put her hands on her hips.
"Harmony, wild Pokemon aren't your friends," Mizuki said. "If you blow bubbles at them, they're going to think you're attacking them."
Lillie bent down, patting her knees. Harmony approached her and gestured to her head, then closed her eyes and let out a squeal as she rubbed it. "Poor girl," Lillie cooed. "It'll be all right."
"She's too friendly," Mizuki concluded. "She should feel the FLAMES OF BATTLE inside her. That's what all the top Trainers say - their Pokemon have to battle twenty-four seven, or else they'll die of 'en-you-eye'. It's a compulsion. Your spirit burns so brightly you've got no choice but to show it."
The children kept their eye on the Grimer, who was now smearing its sickly green slime onto the wall. The sight reminded Sun of the gaudy graffiti tags he'd seen those Team Skull hooligans spray around Hau'oli, trying to claim the city as their own territory. It amused him to think of the comparison - that was all those guys were, little more than wild Pokemon ruled by their most base instincts.
"I really doubt they'd die because they didn't fight," Lillie said. She drew Harmony closer to herself, running her hand down the Popplio's spine and back flippers.
"It's true," Mizuki insisted. "Look it up. It's a real phenomenon."
Even with his Pokemon Training ambitions, Sun thought it sounded like a hassle. Living with a creature that had to release its pent-up emotions near constantly? No wonder the highest-level Trainers never seemed to let their Pokemon out outside of battles.
His gaze drifted over to Harmony, who in spite of Lillie's affections, still hung her head. Poor thing. No, he resolved, he wouldn't treat his new partner that way. If it really felt such urges to battle, he'd let it. If it didn't, he wouldn't force it. It was only right.
Then:
An explosive current supercharged the air; every hair on Sun's arms stood on end. Mizuki sucked in a breath. A massive flock of Pikipek and Trumbeak swarmed the overhead skies, the sound of their wingbeats like members of an orchestra flipping pages of their score. The Grimer halted its vandalism and slunk off to its hiding place, leaving a chunky trail of sludge in its wake.
Lillie, alerted, looked up at the others. "Do you feel that?"
Sun and Mizuki nodded and exchanged glances. A Rattata scampered past his foot and out of the grass, and Harmony, having learned nothing from her previous scolding, blew a bubble. The Mouse Pokemon deftly ignored it and her.
"I know this feeling," Sun said. "From the festival. I remember..."
He trailed off, racking his brain for the memory. The last time Tapu Koko had shown his face at the festival, the only time in Sun's lifetime, had been five years ago. Then, Tapu Koko had been pleased: he'd judged the townsfolk's reverent worship adequate enough to reward them with an appearance. A hush had fallen over the festivalgoers: there had been serenity as the guardian deity beheld its creations, and then it had disappeared back into the gloom of the deep summer night.
Now the air smoldered with a hostile charge. Intrusive paranoid thoughts gnawed at him like Bidoof at a felled log, and the memory of the pact, which he had managed to forget about in the midst of all this morning's commotion, returned to him. The demon still slept in Lillie's bag.
He swallowed hard, sweat beading on his neck and forehead. "Where's Hala? You said you talked to him earlier."
"I don't know," Mizuki said. "He should still be here with Hau. I saw them during the ceremony."
The Rattata scratched at the fence meant to keep the wild Pokemon in the enclosure. Lillie, taking pity on it, opened the gate, and several families of Rattata came scrambling out of the grass in an effort to pass through. The horde flooded the blacktop, releasing a chorus of celebratory squeaks.
Lillie scrambled to swing the gate shut, bringing her hands to her face to avoid the scornful stares of the onlookers on the other side of the fence. "Oh, um, I didn't mean to..."
Mizuki moved to her side, watching the pack disperse out into the city. "Dang, they really wanted out, didn't they? I... I wonder what prompted that."
It was evident she had tried to say it as coolly as possible, but her voice had come out with a waver.
"I didn't mean to," Lillie repeated. "I didn't think that would -"
A blast of energy forced the three children against the cinderblock wall. A light pierced Sun's eyes, and he lifted his arm against his brow to steal a glimpse of the creature before them.
Tapu Koko.
The creature sparked and crackled with electricity. The main portion of its body, the part most like a human form, was black with white swoop-like markings; large dark talons jutted out from the yellow shell-like structures at the ends of each limb. A spiky orange crest resembling a mohawk bisected its face, and subtle hues of orange tinged its intense blue eyes.
Nobody dared breathe.
Rubberneckers of all shapes and sizes thronged around the side of the fence, oohing and aahing at the elusive guardian. The Tapu vibrated, bouncing on its lower spines and coolly ignoring their existence.
"It's Tapu Koko! The guardian deity!"
"Tapu Koko has blessed these children with its presence!"
Blessed? Sun realized then: they couldn't see the murder in the Pokemon's eyes.
Mizuki was the first to rally. She bent her knees and thrust out her hand, a smile forming. "Okay, Harmony! Time to use Water Gun!"
"Mizuki," Sun said, "Harmony's not doing shit against that thing."
She glanced back at him. Then at Harmony, who was every bit as frozen as the humans at her back. Then at the Tapu, tense and rumbling with energy. Making a few swift mental calculations, she scooped up the Popplio and vaulted over the fence, leaving her two companions behind to face the deity's wrath. The crowd welcomed her, and she disappeared among them.
The bursts of electricity surrounding the Tapu swelled in size and number. At last a rush of adrenaline made it into Sun's bloodstream, and he sprung onto his heels, pivoting. Turning his attention to the girl by his side. In a fraction of a second, the decision was made.
He tackled Lillie, sending the both of them tumbling to the ground.
The Tapu smashed into the wall above them, its keratinous talons slicing through stone like a surgeon's scalpel into muscle. He twitched both at the sheer force of the impact and at the chunks of concrete raining down on him.
The gate creaked - at last, one of the onlookers had realized the danger, and let it ajar for them. He shoved himself back onto his knees and clambered out the enclosure, with Lillie on his tail. The crowd parted to permit them their mad dash towards the school building, giving them a good look at all of the bystanders' bewildered expressions. But Sun's mind whirled.
Wild Charge.
Tapu Koko had used Wild Charge, an audacious full-body attack. As a consequence of its power, it was extremely physically demanding: the user almost always ended up suffering damage themself, which put them at risk if their opponent was not fully taken out. A last resort used by only the most desperate of Pokemon against the most formidable of enemies.
He didn't dare stop to see if the Tapu had given chase. His lungs burned as he ran - not with exhaustion, but with the malevolent current coursing through him, tainting each breath. Beside him, Lillie's skin had taken on a concerning pallor; her steps were unsteady, her eyes unfocused. He hoped his spontaneous tackle hadn't shaken her too severely. Once they were out of danger, he would find a place for the both of them to sit down and recuperate.
"Tapu Koko, stand down!"
The baritone voice of Kahuna Hala boomed out from across the schoolyard. Sun halted and turned around, his breath hitching in his throat.
Hala stood stark, uncompromising, with uncharacteristic aggression. The man squatted and released his Crabominable, who Sun had seen in person only a few times but was legendary in Melemele for its many feats of strength. The Fighting-Type would be at a disadvantage against the Fairy-Type guardian, but with Tapu Koko still reeling from Wild Charge, it might have been able to squeak out a win if the two did come to blows.
But a kahuna wouldn't fight one of the guardians. Not out of anger, at least. There was no precedent.
The Tapu stared at its chosen. In an attempt to recover from its previous move, it closed its shell. Its squawk split the air, ko-ko-ko-ko-ko, prompting another gasp from the bystanders. Lillie jammed her fingers in her ears; Sun was too petrified to do the same.
"These children have committed no crime," Hala said, his voice steel. "I will not allow any harm to come to them."
It was impossible to tell what thoughts may have been running through the Tapu's head. No one dared move a muscle as the moment passed. Another. The guardian's eyes fell on its two targets.
And then Tapu Koko took off into the air, a stray bolt of lightning in a cloudless sky.
Silence.
For centuries in Alola, there had been a sort of illusion cast over those who dwelled on the islands - a shared conviction that, despite the Tapus' fickle natures, they truly did love humanity. The Tapus were the magicians; the Alolans the captive audience, choosing to suspend their disbelief for the sake of the spectacle. Or perhaps for the sake of their sanity. Before now, no Tapu had ever directly attacked a human - with the exception of those who had broken one of the sacred laws, the kapu, as to commit such a sin was to forfeit one's life, and their aggression was justifiable.
The cogs turned in every bystander's head. If these children - children! - were innocent, and the Tapu had attacked them, then...
The spark of forbidden knowledge ignited an inferno of uproar. Any previous mood of celebration was forgotten in moments as the crowd mobbed Sun and Lillie, their overlapping voices melding into an unintelligible cacophony. Sun grabbed Lillie's hand, ensuring the two would not be separated as the multitude of hands pulled and pulled and pulled at them, hungry for answers no one could give.
"The Tapu - end times - annihilation - certain doom - against us - despair - forsaken - forsaken - forsaken -"
"Enough," Kahuna Hala said, muscling his way through the sea of people. He took the two overwhelmed children into his embrace, shielding them from the frenzied mass. Beside him, Hau flailed his arms, directing the crowd to listen to his grandfather. "Have you no shame? These children have suffered enough this morning."
Crabominable postured wildly, and while the crowd knew Hala would not harm them, the intensity of his voice gave them pause. Despite his advanced age and portly stature, the Kahuna brimmed with vitality, and his authority was unquestioned. As Hala led Sun and Lillie away, Sun caught a glimpse of Mizuki near the edge of the fence: she'd blended in with the crowd and managed to escape their notice. Lucky.
Lillie stared up at the old man, her green eyes dark with tears. "What's going on, sir? Why did that Pokemon attack us?"
"You must have done something wrong," Hau said, putting his hands behind his head and his elbows in the air. He had somehow remained his usual carefree self in spite of the hysteria surrounding him.
"I haven't," Lillie pleaded. Sun squeezed her hand, hoping it would help to calm her. It did not. "I've only been here since yesterday. If I broke any rules, I wasn't aware of them..."
The foursome's shadows melted together against the dark asphalt. A siren, strident and sinister, hailed the police motorcade's impending arrival; even Hau sobered upon hearing it. Sun's arm brushed against Lillie's duffel bag, and that familiar dull heat boiled anxiety in him. As if aware of Sun's trepidation, Lillie clutched the bag ever tighter to her side.
He let go of her hand.
"...Sun?"
He turned to the trio, and his mouth fell open, but he could not form any words. His throat hurt. His lungs, from all the running. From all the energy.
"Sun, do you know...?"
"No," he said. A dry laugh escaped with the word. "No, I don't know anything about any of this. I'm sorry."
Even Lillie softened. Stared at him, as if he had just pulled his very own Buneary out of a hat.
In spite of the terror splitting his heart Sun smiled. And smiled. And didn't stop smiling, even when the skies opened up and the downpour came and the officers burst from their cars. And certainly not when Hala rushed them away.