Chapter 18
The afternoon sun bathed the Kalos streets in warm light, casting long shadows as Alain and Dawn strolled side by side. The town was lively with trainers and tourists moving between boutiques and cafés, some stopping to admire the scenic fountains and flower-lined walkways. Their Pokémon were resting after an intense training session, giving the two a rare moment to themselves.
Dawn swung her arms lightly, a cheerful bounce in her step. "This is nice," she said, glancing at Alain with a smile. "We've been so focused on training and research—feels like we haven't had much time to just enjoy ourselves."
Alain glanced down at her, his usual serious expression softening. "Yeah. It's… different."
She grinned. "Different in a good way?"
"Yeah."
Dawn tugged on his sleeve and pointed ahead. "Oh! That café looks cute. Let's stop for something sweet."
Alain let himself be led, but as they approached the outdoor seating, his attention flickered to a figure standing near a shop entrance. At first glance, the man appeared ordinary—dark jacket, a cap pulled low over his face—but Alain had noticed him before. Once near the training grounds, another time outside the boutique they had passed earlier. Now here. Even before today, the man seemed familiar.
Coincidence didn't exist in Alain's world.
Dawn had already settled at a table, scanning the menu with excitement. "Ooh, they have Poké Puff parfaits! What do you think?"
Alain forced his expression to relax, giving her a small nod. "Get whatever you want. I'll be right back."
Dawn raised an eyebrow but shrugged, assuming he just needed a moment. "Okay, but don't take too long!"
Alain waited until she was focused on ordering before moving. He walked with purpose, blending into the shifting crowd as he closed the distance between himself and the man. The grunt must have realized he'd been noticed because he turned abruptly and started walking away. Alain followed.
Alain moved swiftly through the crowded street, his sharp eyes locked onto the figure ahead. The grunt was walking at a controlled pace, as if trying to blend in, but Alain had already seen through him. This wasn't the first time he'd noticed the man watching them, and now that the truth was clear, Alain wasn't about to let him slip away.
As the crowd thinned near the edge of the marketplace, Alain quickened his steps, reaching out and grabbing the grunt by the collar. With a forceful tug, he dragged him into a secluded alleyway between two brick buildings. The grunt barely had time to react before Alain shoved him against the wall, pinning him in place.
The man tensed but didn't struggle. He didn't have to. Alain could see it in his face—the realization that he'd been caught.
"Why are you following me?" Alain's voice was low, even, but edged with danger.
The grunt hesitated, then smirked. "Following you? Don't flatter yourself."
Alain's grip tightened. "Wrong answer."
"Who sent you?" Alain demanded, his voice low but laced with undeniable authority.
The grunt gave a forced chuckle, adjusting his cap as if trying to maintain some illusion of control. "Come on, Alain. You already know the answer."
Alain's jaw tightened. "Then say it."
The grunt smirked, but Alain wasn't in the mood for games. His grip tightened, twisting the fabric of the man's jacket. The smirk faltered.
"You're still as intense as ever," the grunt muttered, trying to keep his cool. "Listen, I'm just here to observe, nothing more."
"Why?" Alain's glare burned into him, his patience wearing thin. "Observe what exactly."
The grunt scoffed. "Oh, come on. You really think you can just walk away from all of this? That you can just—what—play house with the girl and everything will be fine?" He let out a dry laugh. "Lysandre doesn't just let go of people like you. You're too valuable."
Alain's grip tightened further, his knuckles turning white. "I am not working for him anymore."
"You might not be, but that doesn't mean you're free." The grunt's voice was smug, almost pitying. "And you sure as hell can't keep her out of it."
A surge of anger flared in Alain's chest. In one swift motion, he slammed the grunt back against the wall, harder this time, his forearm pressing against the man's throat. The grunt coughed but still managed a grin.
"There he is," he wheezed. "The Alain Lysandre trained. Strong. Focused. Dangerous."
Alain wanted to punch him, to wipe that smug look off his face, but he forced himself to stay in control. A public fight would only draw attention—exactly what Team Flare wanted. He needed to be smart.
Instead, he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to an icy whisper.
"Go back to Lysandre and tell him this: If he comes near Dawn, if he so much as breathes in her direction—I will destroy everything he has left."
The grin on the grunt's face finally disappeared.
Alains fist was clenched as the rage intensified within him. Instead, he loosened his grip, stepping back. "Leave."
Alain released him with a shove, stepping back as the grunt straightened his jacket, feigning composure. He let out a small, nervous chuckle. "You talk big, but deep down, you know the truth. You'll always be part of this. And sooner or later, you'll have to choose."
Without another word, the grunt turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Alain standing alone in the alleyway, fists clenched.
Alain exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he collected himself. His heart was still pounding, but the anger had already started to morph into something else. Something worse.
Dread.
Lysandre wasn't finished with him. And now, Dawn was part of the game.
He had to keep her safe.
Even if it meant keeping the truth from her.
When Alain returned to the café, Dawn had already ordered, two parfaits sitting on the table. She was stirring hers absentmindedly but perked up when she saw him.
"There you are. Everything okay?"
Alain nodded as he sat down, reaching for his spoon without meeting her eyes. "Yeah."
Dawn frowned. He wasn't tense, not obviously—but she knew him well enough to see through the small details. The way his shoulders were just a little too stiff. The way he kept his focus on the table instead of looking at her.
She let the silence stretch for a moment before speaking. "Penny for your thoughts."
Alain's grip on the spoon tightened slightly. He wanted to—he really did—but the words felt stuck. The weight of what he knew, what he'd been through, made it impossible to just say it.
Instead, he exhaled and gave her a small, reassuring squeeze of her hand. "All you need to know is that I will never let anything happen to you."
Dawn was a mix of shock and puzzlement at his response. She could only muster a small smile in return.
As they left the café, Alain remained quiet, lost in thought. The warmth of Dawn's hand in his was steadying, but the weight in his chest hadn't lifted. Dawn gave him space at first, but as they walked through the streets, she stole glances at him.
Finally, she bumped her shoulder lightly against his. "You're thinking too much again."
Alain blinked, startled from his thoughts. "Huh?"
She gave him a teasing smile. "You get that serious, brooding look when something's eating at you."
Before he could deny it, she looped her arm through his, pulling herself closer. "Let me guess, you're worried I'll show you up at the Friendship Cup." She teased, trying to lighten the mood.
"Yeah, it's really keeping me up at night," he jabbed.
Dawn gently pushed him. "Jerk," she chuckled.
'That seemed to have snapped him out of it'. Dawn thought to herself, glad to see some of the tension ease.
Seeing her smile, Alain felt something inside him shift. The tension in his chest, the anger that had been simmering ever since his encounter with the grunt—it all seemed to loosen, if only for a moment.
Dawn had that effect on him.
For years, Alain had carried the weight of his past alone, convincing himself that solitude was the only way to keep moving forward. That strength came from pushing others away. But Dawn had shattered that belief without even trying. She had shown him that the world wasn't just a place of battles and betrayals.
Sure, the world wasn't perfect. There would always be people like Lysandre—those who sought to manipulate, control, and destroy. But that didn't mean the world wasn't worth saving.
And if it was worth saving… then so was he.
Dawn laughed at something, nudging him playfully, unaware of the storm that had been raging inside him just moments ago. Alain watched her, his expression softening.
Right then, he made a silent vow.
No matter what happened—no matter how far Lysandre's shadow reached—he would ensure that Dawn always had a reason to smile.
Even if it meant keeping his own burdens hidden.
Hiding in the bustling streets, the grunt reported back to Lysandre. "Sir, the mission has been compromised. Alain spotted and engaged with me. Should I take the girl now, or retreat now that my cover is blown?"
"No," Lysandre responded after a pause. "Come back to base. If you take the girl now, our whole operation could be discovered. Remember, she is due to stay with the Champion of Sinnoh. If she goes missing now, Alain may be able to bring Cynthia into this—and perhaps all the Champions set to appear at the Friendship Cup."
The grunt hesitated. "Understood. Heading back to base now, sir."
Lysandre leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled in thought.
Alain had always been his most valuable asset—not just because of his past loyalty, but because of his raw talent as a Pokémon Trainer. Few could rival him, and even fewer could be shaped into a force as powerful as Alain had become under his guidance. Losing him had been a blow to Team Flare's plans, but not an irreplaceable one.
Or so Lysandre had thought.
Watching from the shadows, seeing Alain grow even stronger, more independent—it irritated him. No, it infuriated him. Alain had been meant for greater things, and instead, he had thrown it all away for a foolish pursuit of freedom.
Lysandre's expression darkened.
If Alain would not return willingly, then he would simply have to remind him why walking away had never been an option.
And if Dawn was the key to breaking him?
Then so be it.