Chapter One: The Night the Stars Fell to Earth

There hadn't been any sort of premonition that fateful afternoon: no quickening of Sun's pulse, no tingling in his fingers, no sinking feeling in his gut alerting him to the dark turn fate had in store for him. No, his thoughts had been on the game of beach volleyball he, Hau, and Mizuki had been playing - all three gathered round in a circle, tossing a beach ball around, Sun sweeping his bangs out of his eyes, glancing over his shoulder for just a moment -

and there she was.

A girl, the palest girl he'd ever laid eyes on, sprawled out on the sand, completely still.

The beach ball rolled past Sun as he stared at her, wondering if she was nothing more than a mirage, an invention of the heat. It wouldn't surprise him - his fingers still dripped with the sweat from where he'd touched his temple. But a skin of white foam surged against her body, and he understood she was as real as anything else.

"Hey! What's the problem?"

Sun, mind racing, looked back to his friends. Mizuki had been the one to yell, and she glowered at him, annoyed her serve hadn't been returned. Typical. Hau, on the other hand, kept his eyebrows knitted together in concern.

Sun's feet moved faster than his mouth did - he skidded down the sandy slope to where the girl lay, leaving his friends to follow in his wake. His first reaction upon reaching her was to kneel down next to her and prop up her head, protecting her from the waves' perpetual assault.

"Hey," he said, his tongue sticking to the roof of his dry mouth, "are you okay?"

When the girl didn't stir, he put two fingers on her neck, and relief washed over him as he detected a slow, but present, beat. Not dead, just unconscious.

The other two children frantically planted themselves beside Sun, taking in the girl's condition. All of Mizuki's prior frustration seemed to have evaporated, and she stayed standing as she reached into her pocket. "Is she injured? Should I call emergency services?"

"I don't think she's hurt," Sun said. The girl's clothes - strange, frilly, and not at all fitting for the harsh summer heat - were all white, so any trace of blood would have immediately caught his eye. The only marks he could see were the small pink nibbles of sand fleas on her exposed skin (ouch - he didn't envy her those).

He allowed himself to relax. She would be all right. She would be all right.

"I think she's just dehydrated," he concluded. "Hau, can you give me your water bottle? Mine's still in my bag back up on the ridge."

Hau frowned, skeptical. "Are you sure she won't choke on it?"

"The water, you mean? Well, we need some way to get it into her system."

"If we took her to the hospital, they could give her an IV," Mizuki pointed out.

"An IV?" Hau turned to her, wiping his brow with his sand-studded fingers and unwittingly sending a cascade of grit into his eyes. "What's blood gonna do for her if she's not hurt?"

Mizuki huffed. "I meant like a saline solution or whatever. Something safe."

Their banter melted into the white noise of the waves lapping against the shore. Sun raised a hand, sensing the looming tension hanging heavy in the air. He was the only one of the three to notice when the girl at last struggled her eyelids open, and he grinned.

"She's awake!"

Awake... and oddly alert. Her eyes, green as the weathered shards of sea-glass dotting the sand, darted from Sun, to Hau, to Mizuki, back to Sun.

"Are you alright? You passed out. Do you want this water?"

He restrained himself from peppering the girl with more questions. The trio watched with rapt attention as the girl processed the situation - it was as if they could see the wheels turning in her head. She pushed herself upright, stared at the bottle for a moment, and then looked back up at Sun.

"It's a water bottle," he reminded her, miming taking a swig.

Without a word of acknowledgement, the girl accepted it and took a brief, almost cautious sip; upon finding it to her liking, she chugged the remainder, her eyes closed in what might have been bliss. Sun admonished himself for not telling her to waterfall it, or for not bringing an extra bottle in the first place.

We were only supposed to be out here for an hour, if even that.

Aching to fill the awkward silence that had fallen over them, he waffled: "Um, sure feels good to have a nice drink when you're dehydrated, right?"

As she cocked her head at him, a much more pertinent question slipped into his mind.

"Um, do you speak -" he gestured to his mouth - "our language?"

She nodded, and Sun let out a sigh of relief.

"I think the real question is does she speak at all, " Mizuki muttered.

He turned, furrowing his brow. "Don't pressure her. Can't you see she's been through a lot?"

"She's probably a tourist," Mizuki said, forcing all her contempt onto the last word. Sun restrained an eye roll - she was the last person who ought to be complaining about that.

"Tourists don't come here," Hau reminded her. "Tourists avoid tall grass like the plague."

"They'll go anywhere they please," Mizuki said. "They're like a bad cold. Hard to shake."

"She's right here, guys," Sun said, searching her expression for any sign of offense (or understanding, for that matter), and to his relief, finding none. "Just relax," he directed, and she closed her eyes and nodded once more.

At his side, Hau shifted his feet. "Uh, do you have any family here in Alola?"

The girl's eyes shot open, and she shook her head vigorously.

"Oh," Sun said. "Um... well, do you have anyone you can call or contact? You can use Mizuki's phone if you don't have one."

"I'll be the judge of that, thank you very much," Mizuki said.

Sun flashed her a wicked grin. "Yeah, see? Like I said, you can use her phone." He twisted to the side, but wasn't agile enough to avoid Mizuki's series of noogies; the two both snickered.

The girl took one long shaky breath, and spoke at last:

"I... need... a place... to stay. I need to..."

She paused, as if even those few sentence fragments had put her out of breath, and rummaged through the silvery drum bag slung about her shoulder, eventually procuring a small white slip of paper. Before she handed it over to Sun, she squinted at it, as if she were reading it for the very first time. "...That person."

The ink on the paper had bled slightly, and it had been written in a scrawly cursive, so it took Sun a few moments to grasp the exact significance of what he was looking at.

Professor Burnet Alaka'i

10105 Pelipper Drive

Heahea City, Akala Island, Alola 99XXX

Whoever had written down the address had run out of space on the slip, and the last three digits of the zip code had been rendered unintelligible. But it gave Sun all he needed to know.

"This is Professor Burnet's address," he remarked, pressing his thumb and forefinger to his chin. "What do you need Professor Burnet for? Her work's hardly applicable to the general public..."

Several moments passed before the girl spoke again, this time with much less strain. "I need her help."

"You're in luck, then," Sun said, smiling, "because I happen to live with her. She and her husband are my godparents."

"That's good," the girl said without a trace of emotion.

"But she won't be back here for the better part of a month," Sun explained. "She works on Akala Island, and this is Melemele..."

She had to know that already, right? Her accent was hard to determine - she spoke as if she had a mouth full of marbles - but it didn't immediately stick out to him as being from another region the way most tourists' did. Besides, even tourists knew what island they were on.

"We should probably get her out of the sun," Hau said.

"Right," Sun said, nodding. He turned back to the girl. "Do you want to come back home with me? My godfather is pretty understanding, and I think he'd totally let you stay with us if you explained your situation."

A memory resurfaced - the time he'd asked Professor Kukui why he'd agreed at all to take him in. After all, Sun had only met the professors a couple times before... before his mother passed, and the professors, as he'd come to learn, had no shortage of responsibilities.

Kukui, always with his signature grin, had explained he viewed all of nature as one big family. That to allow Sun to go off to an uncertain future with another foster family would be tantamount to abandoning his own son. It had made sense to him, then, why the man smiled and waved to everyone he passed on the street; why he treated his own Pokemon like his children.

He took the girl's hand - her palm, free of calluses, felt oddly smooth in his - and helped her to her feet. She seemed a tad unsteady, and he made a mental note to fetch her some more water.

Mizuki still had her arms crossed, and there was a glimmer of mistrust in her eyes as she sized up the girl. "You're going to take her back to your lab?"

"Yep," Sun answered. "You can come with, if you want."

"My dad is going to want me home soon," Mizuki said. By this time, the sun had begun to slip below the horizon, and the sea shimmered with igneous hues of orange and red. "It's too bad we didn't get to finish our game."

"Right, well, there are more important things in life," Sun said as he bent down to scoop up the beach ball. He tossed it to Mizuki, who smirked.

"You're lucky, 'cause you know I was totally kicking your ass."

In all his years of knowing Mizuki, Sun had learned it was better not to argue with her. Of course she would take his deference as a personal victory, as she always did, but that was the price he had to pay for peace. He turned back to the girl - he really needed to ask her name - who avoided making eye contact. "I'm sorry to be a burden," she mumbled.

Alarmed, he shook his head. "What? What made you think you're a burden? You're not burdening us; not at all." He shot a glare at Mizuki, who huffed and rolled her eyes.

The girl still looked unsure, so he continued his reassurance: "We just want to help you."

"Help," the girl repeated, clutching her bag closer to her and stroking her hand down its length. The action seemed to calm her, and her expression softened.

Sun nodded. "Right. You get it."

He turned to Hau. It was unusual for him to be so quiet; it seemed the stress of the situation had shocked him into submission. "Are you going to come home with us? To see her safe?"

Hau shook his head. "Can't. Sorry."

"Alright, then. I'll see you two tomorrow at the ceremony."

He shot a wistful glance back at the girl. How funny something like this would happen the evening before what might have been the most important day of his (admittedly short) life.

"Be seeing ya," Hau said, and at that, the group went their separate ways.

The professors' combination research laboratory and residence was right on the beach - the kind of shoreline property any real estate agent would kill to get their hands on. Kukui's lab, however, had been there years before the tourism boom, and it was perhaps only by some inexplicable working of the Tapu it was still standing.

The laboratory was - what was the word - "homely". It had an "old charm" to it. Those were the cutesy phrases Burnet used to describe it, as if she feared the building would somehow take offense if her words were too unkind. Sun, on the other hand, had no such qualms.

"It's nicer on the inside," he informed his companion as the glorified shack came into view. "Just watch out for splinters."

Professor Kukui was not there as the duo entered the lab. Where he was exactly, Sun had no idea, but it was likely related to his research. Some days the professor wouldn't arrive back home until midnight or even later, sucked onto a side trail chasing a Wimpod or something. It always seemed to be something different - some new Pokémon move he'd come across, some new insight he'd gained into his partner Pokémon's behaviors. Sun often joined him on his excursions when he wasn't in school, but he didn't yet have a Pokémon, which limited the extent he could actually help him to.

Didn't have a Pokémon yet, he corrected himself, and a cloud of anticipation swept him up and away to the far off reaches of his imagination. Daydreaming of all the ways the world would open itself up to him when he became a Trainer. He'd been dreaming of the day he would finally take on his very own journey since he had been a toddler, and now the day was almost upon him.

The laboratory was open concept - apart from the professors' bedroom, the bathroom, and the basement below, every room was visible upon entering. In one corner stood the massive tube-shaped aquarium Kukui used to study aquatic Pokémon, sleek and modern in comparison to the rest of the house. The girl drifted towards it, transfixed by the blubbering pair of Luvdisc within. As soon as the Pokémon noticed her, they frantically rocketed to the top of the glass, out of view.

"Up there's the loft," Sun said, and the girl turned to follow his angled finger. "That's where I sleep."

The girl fiddled with the soaked hem of her dress, and he realized what she meant to communicate. "The bathroom's that way; the door on the left," he directed. "If you want to take a shower, I mean. Do you have a change of clothes with you?"

She looked back up at him, but didn't respond.

"I can take your bag," he said, and she slipped it off her shoulder and into his arms. As he put it on, he unconsciously mimicked the way she'd been holding it - close to her side, like a mother shielding her frightened child. "You go shower, and I'll have some clothes ready for you when you're done."

"...Okay," the girl murmured, and after a moment's hesitation, crossed the room to the bathroom door. Sun scampered up the ladder leading to the loft and rummaged through his bottom dresser drawer for a nice warm set of pajamas. He finally decided on a dark blue flannel set dotted with little cartoon Bulbasaurs. They might have fit a bit small on her, but the drawer didn't present him with any better options.

The shower sighed from behind the bathroom wall as Sun descended the ladder and fished out a fresh clean towel from the laundry basket. He hopped over to the bathroom door - but something felt wrong about leaving clean laundry on the floor like this, especially when she was going to have to reach outside and grab it...

On second thought, better not.

So came the part he was dreading - Sun covered his eyes with one hand, and opened the door and reached in with his other to set the items on the vanity counter. When it was done, he slammed the door so fast it nearly caught the tips of his fingers. There. Done. Quick and easy and painless.

As he returned to the couch, it occurred to him that, in the midst of all his scurrying and skittering around, he'd forgotten to take her bag off his shoulder. He nestled it between himself and the arm of the sofa, and settled back as a yawn overtook him. He'd been so tense before and hadn't realized.

Something warm - the unpleasant kind of warm, like a swamp on a humid summer day - brushed his upper arm, and he sat up, startled.

From her bag?

He couldn't go rummaging through a stranger's personal belongings. That would be wrong; invasive; a gross violation of her trust. But as he placed his palm on the outside of the bag, his suspicion was confirmed: there was something hot in there. Whatever was in there might be a fire hazard, and this place was as flammable as a match factory.

He took the zipper and tugged it open slowly enough for both sides to separate without much noise. Even though the shower was still running, he did not want to take any chances. What he was met with were several pairs of dresses and stockings identical to the ones she was wearing. So she had clothes and hadn't said anything about them. Strange. The placement of the clothing on top seemed intentional as well, to conceal whatever was emitting that heat.

He peeled back the top layer of clothes, and his breath hitched in his throat.

It was as if someone had shrunk down a newborn star and cloistered it away. The gaseous creature at the bottom of the bag shimmered with various shades of blue, purple, and pink; each color melting and fading into the others, bright, then dim, then bright. Its face was entirely black, and as Sun brought his face closer, he could discern a pair of eyes closed in peaceful slumber. A small golden ring surrounded the creature's body, and he supposed it may have been the only thing tethering it to this realm.

The rushing of the shower finally ceased, and Sun, on edge, zipped the bag back up and thrust it back onto the couch.

He hadn't been meant to see that.

In an attempt to ease the tremor that overtook him then, he fished out the remote from one of the couch's folds and turned on the TV. The current channel was showing a nature documentary about the lives of Raticate in Kanto, and he kept it on in order to drown out the noise of his thoughts.

"And the Raticate, scouring the seemingly boundless fields for Berries to help her family through the fast approaching winter..."

He pretended not to notice the bathroom door creaking open.

"But it seems this time, the once bountiful Sitrus tree has no fruit to bear."

His gaze drifted back to the bag on the other side of the sofa, and he wondered whether the creature he'd seen before had just been a figment of his imagination. He almost wanted to open it up again and look at it once more, to become entranced by its blue into purple into pink into blue...

"During its lengthy hibernation, a Raticate's heartbeat can slow to just a shocking four beats per minute."

Was that true? There was no way. It was certainly unthinkable to Sun at this moment - his own heart must have been at four beats per second.

It must have been some as-yet undiscovered Pokémon. People came from halfway across the world to watch the Minior showers over on Ula'ula, and Minior, while similar in shape and form, weren't even a fraction as beautiful. Perhaps that was why the girl had hidden it - to protect it from opportunistic Pokémon thieves like Team Skull.

There were rumors from all around the world: rumors that the Pokémon spoken of in myths and legends weren't fake. Those who claimed to have seen them told of a certain intensity they emanated - some pleasant, like a strong perfume; others dark and rank and vile, threatening a deep malevolence.

Sun knew better than to believe in such talk... but the sensation he'd felt when he'd opened that bag fit those descriptions to a tee. The mist comprising the creature's nebulous form had gleamed like a predator's eyes in the deepest gloom of night.

Whatever that thing was, it certainly wasn't normal.

"The mother Raticate, seemingly distressed by the thought of her now uncertain future, crawls back into the safety of her nest, where her young await."

"I'm finished."

Sun jumped in his seat and whirled around to see the girl, fully dressed in the pajamas he'd given her.

"Oh! That's... that's great! Why don't you sit down? I have a few questions I'd like to ask you." He grabbed the remote to pause the documentary and tried to quell the trembling in his voice. "So... um..."

"I don't want to answer any questions right now," the girl announced. Now that she was out of the sun, Sun realized she'd been burned quite badly - it covered her cheeks in a shape mimicking a blush. "I'm tired."

And before Sun could react, she flopped down on the sofa like a ragdoll, out cold.

She's... did she pass out again?

For a moment, he couldn't scrounge up the courage to check. In a strange way, the sight of her nauseated him - like she was the end of a Huntail's tail, and he an unwitting Magikarp about to meet his end.

Please, he prayed, please, Tapu Koko, if you're out there, if you're listening, please. Tell me this isn't happening. Please, tell me I'll wake up in my bed and this is all just another nightmare...

A different thought, or perhaps a compulsion, struck him: Go to the altar and speak to it in person, you coward. Then maybe it might actually listen for a change.

No, no... he wasn't allowed to go through tall grass without a Pokémon - and that being a Trainer's Pokémon. Even if the few wild ones that cycled through Kukui's lab were willing to listen long enough to follow him, they would simply run away at the first sign of battle.

But... if he were smart about it, the professor would never need to know. And, he considered as his eyes drifted to the girl's bag... he technically did have a Trainer's Pokémon within his grasp.

Of course there was still the girl to worry about if he were to leave. But the steady rise and fall of her chest assured him she was deep in slumber. It was no wonder - he could only speculate on what sort of tribulations she had gone through to end up washed up on the beach in a foreign land. No family to call for help.

He preferred not to dwell on it.

Kukui had left a yellow legal pad on the kitchen counter. Sun tore off a page and wrote him a note:

"Kukui, I'm going over to the Kazakamis' to hang out with Mizuki. I'll be back soon. Also, I found this girl passed out alone on the beach. I hope it's okay for her to stay here - she doesn't have anywhere else to go. I'll tell you more when I get home. Love, Sun."

He could only hope that would be adequate. He technically wasn't allowed to be over at the Kazakamis', either, but their house was closer to the lab than the ruins were and would probably afford him a lighter punishment. And while Kukui might not have been in the habit of giving out punishments, Sun certainly wasn't going to risk giving him a reason to this close to the ceremony.

With that out of the way, he picked up the bag from the couch, calculating how long it would take for him to reach Iki Town. It was about twenty minutes from here, so if he left now, at seven-thirty, he could -

"Put me down."

Sun stopped in his tracks.

"You heard what I said."

He turned, ever so slowly, towards the source of the command. The girl, whose eyes were still closed, who hadn't so much as twitched since collapsing onto the couch...

"I, uh, I, I-"

"Go on," the girl, or whatever was speaking through her, said.

Sun slid the bag off his shoulder, his eyes wide in abject terror. "I - I'm sorry, my lord," he stammered. "I won't… I won't…"

'My lord'? His cheeks turned bright red. Now, where had that come from? It had slipped right off his tongue.

Without taking his eyes off the girl, he returned the bag to its proper place. He stood there for several moments, waiting for further instruction, but the monster, presumably satisfied with his obedience, spoke no more. The girl remained asleep, her hair fanning out behind her, still wet from the shower. The droplets glinted in the rosy evening light pouring in from the overhead windows.

He stood there, empty of thought.

Before he knew it, he'd crumpled the useless note in his hands and had grabbed the remote again. He moved to unpause the documentary, but his thumb slipped, instead changing the channel to a children's network: a rerun of Math Whiz Jolterika, an educational program about an allegedly genius Joltik who desperately required the viewer's help to perform basic arithmetic.

"Woah! Can YOU tell me how many Watmel Berries Walter Whiscash has? Let's count! One, two…"

Childish, yes, but it would do well to distract him. With those garbles hissing in his mind, Sun ascended the ladder. The Murkrow that loved to perch on his desk peered at him through beady, half-lidded eyes, but he paid it no mind.

The book he held in his heart, sticking out against the other selections in his bookcase, had been a present from his mother for his seventh birthday - a collection of Alolan myths and legends, just for him. These were the stories, she'd said, that her own parents had regaled her with night after night when she was his age, and now it was her turn to pass on the tradition.

And so he was taught: the world had begun in darkness, and, for certain, it would end in darkness.

Of course this version of Alolan mythology was intended for younger readers - the stories were told in simpler language in comparison to some of the original versions they'd read in class, with all the rough edges sanded off. A world of light and dark; a world of black and white. But even so, the book did not completely eschew the complex relationship between the Alolans and the creatures they called their deities. The gods giveth, and they taketh away. Regardless of how deserving one truly was.

Every summer in Iki Town, the kahuna held a festival to give thanks to Tapu Koko. (It would be soon this year, Sun reflected, and he wondered how time could pass one by so fast - it seemed to him it had been only a couple of months since the last one.) He'd always found himself amazed at how even the most unfortunate of people could find something to thank the Tapu for. In fact, it always seemed to be the people who had the least who were the most pious - once he'd seen a man who'd lost his entire family in a house fire fall on his knees at that year's festival, in literal tears of joy at how much he'd been given - ! About all the beautiful things he had been blessed with - !

It was frightening, to be sure - but in some twisted way, Sun understood. Sun understood, because every day after his mother received her diagnosis, he had gone to the altar at the Ruins of Conflict to pray. To pray for - if not a cure, or some miraculous recovery, then at least a reduction in her suffering.

But the Tapu never cared. Why should it? It was a god, wholly unconcerned with the lives of one single mother and her only son.

And yet, even after it had proven its indifference to his pain time and time again, he still prayed. And in his heart of hearts, he knew this year, and the next, and the next, he would still go to the festival and find something to give thanks for.

The last story in Sun's collection was entitled 'Hakihaki o na hoku'. Sun couldn't recall at this moment precisely what that meant, but the tale itself was of an epistemological nature. The Alolans' conception of the future - although nobody in modern times actually believed in such things. If the world was to end anytime soon, it would be in a normal way like an environmental disaster or nuclear armageddon.

The story, printed upon a sleek page of black paper vellum, read as thus:

"In the end times, one will come sowing seeds of dissension amongst mankind,

claiming to be a mea Akua* and in the same breath spouting blasphemies.

They will be venerated to divine status by people,

and their true nature will be known only to the Tapu.

In this time, there will be a war against kanaka and Pokemon,

and it is said the stars will crumble, fall to earth, and destroy all creation.

Only after humanity has rejected the false prophet,

will the world be reborn, and harmony restored."

*a holy person; that is, a servant of the Tapu

Under the verses was an illustration. Below a moonless night sky, a crowd of silhouettes conspired at an altar to a figure standing at a podium with one fist raised in the air. Like a cut of newsreel from an old documentary: some faraway tyrant spewing sweet lies to a legion of adulant patriots. Across the distant horizon, beyond the figures' notice, a white shadow watched from afar: the guardian mourning its fallen children.

To Sun, the message was clear - everyone was fallible. It didn't matter how much faith one had in the Tapu: the "mea hakihaki o na hoku" would come, and everyone would fall in line behind them. Without exception.

But - if he knew, then...

The story as it was told in the book didn't mention an evil spirit, but it was implied. How could a mere human, even the mea hakihaki o na hoku, cause the stars to fall to earth? Alolan myths rarely beat around the bush with metaphor and allegory; their gods could be seen and heard and known.

If that girl and her pet demon truly were the harbingers of end times, he could end this right now.

Revulsion curdled in his stomach at the thought: no. No way. It was unthinkable - the kid who called himself a pacifist, who was averse to the slightest bit of violence, who got woozy at the sight of blood, who cried for several hours in the middle of class in third grade when the teacher read that book about sled racing and the kid's Boltund died... he couldn't do that to another human being. He couldn't take a life.

He placed the book back atop the bookcase, and, plucking his pillow from his cot, headed back down towards the sofa. The television was still on. The girl had not moved. The bag had not moved. Everything was fine. Everything was fine. Today had been a perfectly normal day, and tomorrow would be as well. It would be a big day. He would become a middle schooler and a Trainer.

"Ah - a call's coming in! Quick, let's count together how many times the phone rings!"

His first Pokemon, yeah! He and his Pokemon would face their futures head-on. A Trainer had to be a go-getter, of course! But first, he needed to ensure there would be a future for them to face. Oh, right. The best method would be (prr-ring-ring) , because it wouldn't get any of that pesky (prr-ring-ring) anywhere, and he would be able to pretend it was a simple accident. Like when infants (prr-ring-ring) without warning in their cribs oh god where was he going where was his brain taking him no way he would actually go through with this no.

Dear Tapu Koko,

Please forgive me for what I am, and for what I am about to become.

He loomed over her with his pillow in his arms, clinging to it like a struggling swimmer would to a life preserver. The dark urges tugged at him, threatening to pull him into the yawning trench below.

Perhaps he wanted to be interrupted. Perhaps his own thoughts were scaring him so badly he wanted someone to stop him and talk some sense into him. If he did, his unconscious wish was granted: the sleeping girl's neutral expression curled into a cruel smirk, and his heart dropped.

"Sun, ah - now, what are you doing?"

The question played on the tip of the girl's tongue. Sun froze, burying his nose into the pillow.

"How do you know my name?"

An inhuman rasp escaped the girl's throat. "Oh, I've always known your name, Sun."

It sounded like something Mizuki's father would say. Sun shuddered.

"Are you a-fraid of me? Why are you afraid of me? I don't want to hurt you." Its voice sounded almost despondent as it repeated the question, its pitch going up an octave. "Why are you afraid of me? Why are you afraid of me? Sun. "

Sun opened his mouth to answer, but the creature hadn't finished its diatribe.

"You don't need to be afraid of me. She isn't afraid of me. She likes me, in fact. She's even given me a name; a cute name. She's a good vessel - the very best I could ask for - and I can't wait for you to meet her. If you'll be a very good boy, I'll let you meet her."

Sun, confused, began to fidget with a stray lock of his hair. "I did get to meet her."

"No... not yet, you haven't." The spirit laughed, an ear-grating, monstrous sound, like a Mightyena's frenzied howlings. "But let's get to the heart of the matter: you want us gone. I can sense your intent, and the only reason you're still breathing right now is because I don't think you have the balls to go through with it."

Confirming or denying this claim would lead to his doom; Sun was sure of it. He remained silent.

"You believe she's the mea hakihaki o na hoku. Is this correct?"

He hesitated before giving a slow nod, impressed at its perfect pronunciation of the Alolan words.

"I see. But you're not normally so superstitious - you're hysterical."

"Hyst-? No, I'm not-" Sun, realizing there was nothing to gain from refuting its claim, changed course. "So, is she?"

The spirit's smirk only grew wider, and his blood ran cold. "Before I answer that question, I'd like to make a deal with you, Sun. A very, very extraordinary deal. Would you like to know the terms?"

A deal?

Everything rational in Sun's brain shouted at him: no, no, this is bad, don't do this, no! Don't make deals with evil spirits, you moron!

And still: "Tell me."

"The deal is... you can have everything you've ever dreamed of. A successful career as a Trainer, and the fame and fortune that comes with it. The undying love and adulation of thousands - no, millions. And of course I will give you all the answers you seek. Just tell me what it is that you want, and I will supply it to you."

"And…" Sun's breath caught in his throat. "What do you want in return?"

"Simple. You do as I say, indefinitely. You protect the girl and me. You won't tell her about my, ahem, true nature. I believe it is quite a good deal indeed."

No, no... he wouldn't allow himself to be caught at a demon's mercy. What would his mother say if she saw him about to fall into the same sort of trap her stories had warned him of? What would the professor think if he saw him about to betray the whole of his extended family? Shameful, shameful, shameful.

Yet the shame was miniscule compared to the limitless euphoria of anything. Of potential. Even, he thought, the one thing he desired above all else - the one thing he'd been told from birth he could never have.

A fragment of a half-remembered dream, a scrap of laughter. A trembling hand, forever outstretched.

"My father. I want to know where my father is."

Slowly, like an automaton, the girl held out her hand. "Is this a deal?"

A pause. And then - his fingers brushing against hers.

"It's a deal."

He expected some change in him; some evidence it was done - some excruciating pain as the creature carved its brand into him to mark him as its servant, or something equally as dramatic and inane. But there was nothing apart from the horrid giggle of the spirit he'd just sworn his eternal allegiance to.

"Very well, then. To answer your question: no, the girl isn't the destroyer of stars," the spirit said, referring to the term by its translation, "but I am. Or, I suppose you could say, in a sense, the three of us are now. Yes, our unholy trinity..."

"Ri...ght," Sun murmured, his stomach tying itself into knots. "Um, you aren't going to possess my body like that, are you?"

"What?" The question actually seemed to catch the spirit off guard. "Ah - it appears you don't understand. This girl and I share something quite… special… between us. It is unlikely I'd ever need you when I have the perfect vessel right here. For all the sins my former captor may have committed, she did craft my most prized possession..." It trailed off into another series of shrieks and cackles.

"I was, um, just wondering," Sun said. He gave a strained, shuddering sigh and bit his lip, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Well, I..." Despite the girl already being asleep, the spirit splayed out her arms and yawned theatrically. "I'm going to release the vessel now. I'm afraid our conversation has sapped me of my energy even further, and I need to recover... Now, you may doubt my abilities at first, but I promise you all the things you want will come in time. Be patient, my friend. My apostle."

Her body relaxed once more, perfectly peaceful and ignorant in sleep.

And Sun, left standing there with his useless pillow in his arms, knew he would never know peace again.