Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

* * * * * early December * * * * *

Almas squinted at the screen, checked his setup, petted Judy who whickered in appreciation, and nodded to himself, before clicking on Start Stream. It took a few moments to show, but gradually people began to trickle in, notified by Chatwitter or Gliscord or PokéTube: @mudgayming was live on Tortwitch.

"Hi," he greeted them, and a chorus of return greetings popped into the chat. "Yo, what up. Um— narcolepticslakoth, I'm doing great, thanks for asking. talonflump, thanks, this is one of my favorite shirts. pikavroom, Judy is great too, thank you. Oh, sneasystreet— the audio's broken for you? Let me check with the sound mod real quick—"

"Audio's fine, it's borked on their end," said Jeremiah's voice through his headset.

"Sound mod says it's on your end, sorry about that. Try muting and unmuting your speakers? I don't know much about audio tech, sorry. Can the rest of you hear me okay? Yes? Okay, great."

He fidgeted a bit in his chair, watching the chat roll in.

"What am I playing today? Well, I'm kind of stressed out today because we had to move this week— yeah, you guys saw the new setup already, but I was going to explain more once there were more people."

A donation of twenty-six hundred Poké popped up in the chat: Soph-O-Matic, a consistent subscriber and generous donator for the last three months— around September, he thought.You didn't mention you were moving.

"Oh, hey, Soph-O-Matic. Thanks for the twenty-six hundred P, super appreciated. Yeah, it was unexpected." Almas swallowed, looking away from the camera. "It's, um— it's complicated."

Another familiar name blinked onto the screen: [MOD]jeongcottonee, but that was Moonie. It was really fucked up, guys, but we can't tell you a lot about it because there's some legal stuff.

"Yeah, what jeongcottonee said," agreed Almas, relieved. "But yeah, it looks like we've got— oh shit, nearly a thousand people, so... let's start. Hey, everybody. I'm mudgayming, today is Thursday, and that means..."

He trailed off expectantly, and the Tortwitch chat filled with images. Most of them were photographs with text laid over in meme format, but a few people had drawn fanart (and wasn't that something else, that he was Internet-popular enough to have fanart) and Moonie, because he was evil, sent a rather more suggestive photograph.

"...that's right. Thursday is Thor's Day." Almas grinned at the silly and cute pictures of the attractive actor who played Thor in the movies. "Thanks for your currency of memes, you have paid me well. Okay, but hot people aside: I've had a shitty, stressful week so today's stream is gonna be kind of chill. I'm basically just gonna go strip mining in DigStuff."

A few people expressed annoyance at this, but the response was by and large positive and Almas smiled at the screen. His eye was caught, once again, by a donation (always twenty-six hundred Poké, usually at least twice a stream) from Soph-O-Matic: Sounds great. Do whatever you need to do, we're here to support you.

"Hey, Soph-O-Matic, thanks for yet another twenty-six hundred. And thank you, and everyone else, for all your support." Almas opened the game on his second screen, checking to make sure that everyone could see it in the stream, and logged in to find his character in the house where he'd left him. "Cool, cool. Business as usual. Let me just hop down into my mine here, and we'll get started..."

* * * * * late December * * * * *

In retrospect, it had probably been a bad idea, but Almas was used to having bad ideas. He regretted it the second he pressed the button, but it was too late to take it back because Soph was already fucking typing a reply.

mudgayming did u mean what u said?

"Oh god, oh fuck. Oh god."

"What now," said Moonie, walking back into the room.

"I DM'ed him on Gliscord, help—"

"DM'ed who?"

"Soph-O-Matic. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking—"

"About time," said Jeremiah. "You're a disaster gay and every time Soph says something nice on the stream you freak out for like, three days."

"I'm just a disaster, period— oh my god he's typing oh god send help."

Soph-O-Matic is typing...

Soph-O-Matic I say a lot of things to you.

Soph-O-Matic You're going to have to clarify.

"He's flirting with you, that's adorable," said Moonie, clapping him on the shoulder. "You want us to go, or do you need moral support?"

"Moral support, please," mumbled Almas, and they both crawled onto the bed on either side of him to cuddle. Moonie kissed the side of his head and they all watched him type.

mudgayming that thing u said in the last donation

mudgayming u said i was pretty

Soph-O-Matic Because it's true.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAA—"

"Shh, Cassie's gonna yell at us again," giggled Jer, clapping one hand over Almas's mouth. "Soph is really smooth, though."

"Nobody can be that perfect in real life," said Almas forlornly. "There's got to be something wrong with him. Maybe he's a misogynist, or transphobic."

"Hey, don't start imagining how it's going to go wrong. That's a sure way to actually make it go wrong."

"Ask him about himself," suggested Jer. "You've known each other for a while, right?"

"He started following me like a month after I started streaming, and he donates like, five hundred thousand a month. Which is a lot for someone our age, so I think maybe he's older?"

"He types like an old man."

"He types with appropriate capitalization and punctuation, which is what I do," said Moonie, frowning at Jer. "Are you suggesting that I'm an old man?"

"Of course not! You're young and beautiful and squishy and I love you—"

"Gross," said Almas pointedly, interrupting before Moonie's face could get any redder. "What do I say?"

"Ask him if he likes boys," suggested Jer.

"Ask him what his favorite game is," countered Moonie.

"Oh, yeah, do that, that's a much better idea."

Almas took a breath, then began typing.

mudgayming omg that's so nice of you, thx

mudgayming so whats ur fav game

Soph-O-Matic I like pretty much everything you've played, but my favorites are DigStuff, HZD, and Subnautica.

mudgayming omg subnautica nope

mudgayming i still have nightmares about the fuckin reapers

mudgayming i will never look at a milotic the same way again

mudgayming nope Nope NOPE NOPE NOPE

Soph-O-Matic You were really cute on that stream.

mudgayming omg

mudgayming listen so like i love getting complimented and shit

mudgayming but im only 16 and im not sure how old u r

mudgayming literally u could b my age or u could b like 50, cant tell from the way u text

mudgayming so if this is like, u makin ur move then i need to know ur age 4 like legal reasons

Soph-O-Matic That's fair.

Soph-O-Matic I'm also sixteen, though I understand if you don't believe me. I text like this because it's how I'm used to texting. A lot of my job is online and I'm just used to behaving in a more professional demeanor.

mudgayming how r u also 16 but u have a job

mudgayming like u donate 500K p a month

mudgayming no offense but most teenagers dont have that kind of money

Soph-O-Matic Would proof of identity ease your mind?

Soph-O-Matic I prefer to communicate over text because I'm very shy and awkward in real life, but I could send proof.

mudgayming ... go on

"Okay," announced Jeremiah, standing up. "We're leaving now. He probably doesn't want to dox himself to me and Moonie."

"Um, okay," said Almas absently, staring at the screen. His mouth had gone dry, which was— ugh, weird. Also his ears were warm, and he could hear the dull thud of his heartbeat as far as his earlobes. "That's— that's fine. Thanks."

Soph-O-Matic Video Attachment: [VID004.mov]

"H-hey, mudgayming. Um, it's me, Soph-O-Matic. Or just, um, Sophocles, as that's, um, my name. Um, if you follow the island challenge at all then you probably recognize me. I'm, um, a trial captain. So I do have a job. In that sense. B-but I'm also a freelance computer programmer? And I'm taking some college classes, and stuff, because I graduated from high school early. I, um, I don't get a lot of time to relax in all that, so your streams are, um. They're really nice. I can just sit and do homework and listen to you talk and stuff. You have a nice voice, very relaxing. And, u-um— yeah, I-I-I do think you're really cute. Hope I didn't, um. Creep you out. Or anything. Because I, um— I know I'm really a-awkward and, um. Not much to look at, or w-whatever. Anyway, bye."

mudgayming omg

Soph-O-Matic ...that was cringey, wasn't it.

mudgayming OMG NO

mudgayming ur rlly cute!!!

Soph-O-Matic What.

mudgayming like u were blushing and u couldn't look at the camera!!! on the one hand relatable asf but v v v cute!!!

Soph-O-Matic I'm overweight and pimply.

mudgayming correction: ur made 4 cuddles, and ur skin is experiencing technical difficulties

mudgayming im skinny so im all bony to cuddle but my friend molly is a lil bigger and she's so nice to cuddle with

Soph-O-Matic Do you cuddle with her a lot?

mudgayming only in the most platonic sense

mudgayming like cuddling with my mum

mudgayming except my real mum isn't very cuddly

mudgayming not the point

mudgayming u look like u would be nice to cuddle with!!! :D

Soph-O-Matic For once, my cousin was right about something.

mudgayming ?

Soph-O-Matic "You should talk to your internet crush, Soffy!"

mudgayming am i ur internet crush??!?!

Soph-O-Matic Yes.

mudgayming well listen, ur my internet crush too!!!

mudgayming literally ur always the nicest and u say such nice things in chat and u donate so much money which is rlly rlly kind omg

Soph-O-Matic And today, I die of asphyxiation.

mudgayming omg don't die, internet crush

mudgayming ur too pretty to die

Soph-O-Matic You're not helping.

mudgayming lmao im low-key evil

mudgayming but if ur gettin uncomfortable we can talk about other stuff

mudgayming just because i got excited to flirt w/u doesn't mean i have 2 b in flirt mode all the time

Soph-O-Matic We can talk about anything you want.

Soph-O-Matic Flirting included.

Soph-O-Matic Frankly, I could listen to you read a phonebook and I'd be entertained.

mudgayming whats a phonebook

Soph-O-Matic I have come to the sudden realization that I only know what a phonebook is because my best friend is my cousin and he's thirty-four.

Soph-O-Matic I don't get out much, in case you couldn't tell.

mudgayming lmao i play video games on the internet 4 a living

mudgayming i don't get out much either

* * * * * mid-January * * * * *

Soph-O-Matic Hey, what's up

mudgayming hey soph

mudgayming not much tbh

Soph-O-Matic Has it been a good day? You were very quiet during the stream.

mudgayming im just tired

mudgayming lil bit sad but it's not anything with you

Soph-O-Matic Do you want to talk about it?

mudgayming did u know im team skull

mudgayming do u hate me now ive told u

Soph-O-Matic You underestimate the power of cyberstalkery.

Soph-O-Matic When you told me your real name originally, I promptly went and looked you up on other social media sites.

Soph-O-Matic There's pictures of you in the Team Skull uniform on your personal Spindagram account. I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you would talk about it.

mudgayming oh

mudgayming that's

mudgayming not what i expected u to say

Soph-O-Matic We can't all be melodramatic, star-crossed lovers like Moon and Gladion.

mudgayming EYE—

Soph-O-Matic Am I wrong?

mudgayming NO B UT LIK E

mudgayming TH AT WAS SHADY AS FCUK IM DYIN G OMG

mudgayming IM LAFFIN SO HARD H LE P

Soph-O-Matic Glad I could cheer you up a little. :)

mudgayming omg thx u have no idea how much i needed that

Soph-O-Matic Of course, any time.

Soph-O-Matic Did you still want to talk about it?

mudgayming yea hang on

mudgayming let me explain it like this

Soph-O-Matic ?

mudgayming u know how in DigStuff u can kill skeletons?

Soph-O-Matic Or zombies or spiders or creepers or any other mob, yes.

mudgayming the skeletons r the point here

mudgayming and then u turn their bones into bone meal?

Soph-O-Matic Right...

mudgayming and then u use the bone meal to make ur flowers grow faster

mudgayming i mean ppl usually just use it for crops but i use it for flowers b/c dye and colors and rainbows and all that good gay shit

Soph-O-Matic Indeed.

mudgayming k so im a skeleton...

mudgayming b/c team skull yanno lmao

mudgayming and it feels like im being grinded down to nothing rn

mudgayming but the thing is

mudgayming is that i know someday me being grinded down to nothing means that something beautiful will grow in its place

mudgayming hopefully ill be a peony and not a lilac b/c the lilacs in DigStuff are ugly asf

mudgayming but rn im just bonemeal and the grind is fuckin real

mudgayming does that make any sense

Soph-O-Matic It makes perfect sense, and I love that you're using a DigStuff metaphor to explain how you feel.

Soph-O-Matic It's very you.

mudgayming ur blushing arent u

Soph-O-Matic I will neither confirm nor deny this accusation.

mudgayming u cute lil shit

mudgayming this is why i like u

* * * * * March 2nd * * * * *

Soph-O-Matic ALMAS

Soph-O-Matic ALMAS PLEASE ANSWER

Soph-O-Matic I'M SORRY I DIDN'T WANT TO COME TO THE AETHER FOUNDATION FOR THE MEDIA THING IT WAS FREAKING ME OUT

Soph-O-Matic WAIT YOU'RE PROBABLY IN DANGER RIGHT NOW SO I'M GOING TO STOP MESSAGING YOU

Soph-O-Matic BUT ONCE YOU'RE SAFE PLEASE TALK TO ME

mudgayming im sorry im sorry im rlly sorry

mudgayming i had my phone on silent b/c im tryin to stay hidden

mudgayming i think im safe rn

Soph-O-Matic Don't tell me where. I'm not sure that our conversation isn't being monitored. But I'm coming to find you and Mo.

Soph-O-Matic Oh my god, Mo.

mudgayming ill try n find him 4 u

Soph-O-Matic NO

Soph-O-Matic If you're safe, please stay safe. I'll find you.

Soph-O-Matic I'm going to try and get ahold of Moon, she didn't go to the conference either.

mudgayming ooh good idea

mudgayming moons a fuckin scary champion badass now

mudgayming she can get rid of whoever these assholes are

mudgayming i thought i was done with dangerous bs after we all moved to aether, but

mudgayming i guess i can b wrong

mudgayming oh shit i gotta move ttyl

Soph-O-Matic Stay safe.

* * * * * later, the same day * * * * *

mudgayming so um

mudgayming i totally get it if ur not into me anymore

Soph-O-Matic Why wouldn't I like you anymore?

mudgayming because im not what u probably thought i was

mudgayming because of, you know

mudgayming the whole thing where my genitals don't come as advertised

Soph-O-Matic Why would that matter?

Soph-O-Matic Look, I like you, but I don't think either of us are ready to be doing that kind of thing yet.

Soph-O-Matic I don't think we've technically established wheth

Soph-O-Matic Shit, I didn't mean to send that.

mudgayming cause were not dating

mudgayming i get it

mudgayming i wont bother u anymore, sorry

Soph-O-Matic That is NOT what I'm trying to say.

Soph-O-Matic I don't actually care about that kind of thing?

Soph-O-Matic I like you, and if we do eventually get to a point where we're thinking about that, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be happy regardless of, um, logistics.

mudgayming what the fuck is a logistics

Soph-O-Matic "Logistics: the detailed coordination of a complex operation involving many people, facilities, or supplies."

mudgayming do u mean like who's gonna top or bottom or whatever

Soph-O-Matic LIKE I SAID I REALLY DON'T THINK EITHER OF US ARE READY TO BE DOING THAT KIND OF THING

mudgayming omg i can see u across the room

mudgayming u went BRIGHT red

mudgayming cute

Soph-O-Matic The point is that I like you and I want to date you and at this point in time I do not want to think about either of our genitals, because despite my maturity and ability to type with capitals, grammar, and punctuation, I am still a teenage boy and liable to explode.

Soph-O-Matic Look who's blushing now.

mudgayming ha ha very funny

mudgayming we both know if i came over there u would be a hot mess in about ten seconds

Soph-O-Matic Why do you think I'm staying on the other side of the room?

mudgayming ...

Soph-O-Matic I didn't mean that the way it came out. I meant that I like talking to you, but I don't know how to talk to you in person without being kind of a mess.

mudgayming in case it missed ur notice, im also kind of a mess

mudgayming literally today was the first time i saw u irl and my whole brain went "omg how does he have even more freckles in person"

mudgayming & other things

mudgayming despite the fact that we were literally in mortal peril or w/e

mudgayming i can see u smiling

mudgayming just come over here already so i can introduce u to jer n moonie

mudgayming oh and also molly and rog

mudgayming u don't have to meet raquel cause she's scary but cassie's ok

mudgayming & i guess u already met bossman and plumeria

Soph-O-Matic I didn't technically meet Miss Plumeria.

mudgayming MISS PLUMERIA

mudgayming do me a favor & call her that to her face

mudgayming i just wanna see what happens

Soph-O-Matic No, thank you. I have no desire to die today.

mudgayming ok fine but come heeeeeeeeeeeeere

mudgayming oh

mudgayming hi

Soph blinked in confusion. "Why are we still texting? We're three feet away from each other."

Almas stared at him for a few moments, and felt all of the words in his throat shrivel up into dust. "U-um," he muttered, aware that he was coloring up and that his nearby friends were shamelessly eavesdropping. "I dunno."

"That's okay."

For a few moments they sat in silence, watching the other Skulls run around the big dining room and throwing food and generally acting like idiots— the way one does, when one has just been freed after being taken captive by creepy alternate universe villains. Almas peeked at Soph in time to meet his eyes, and found himself blushing when he saw the pink and red creeping onto his friend's face as well.

His boyfriend's face, maybe? They hadn't actually clarified on that point yet.

"S-so," said Almas hesitantly, "We, um. We're—"

"Um, a thing?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that. Are we?"

"If you wanna be," said Soph quietly.

"Um— okay. I think maybe I do. Wanna be."

Sophocles nodded rapidly a few times, the pink surging into his cheeks again; then he scooted a little closer on the little sofa they were sitting on. "Okay," he mumbled. "Me, too."

For a few moments it was silent again— initially, in the sort of way that was suffocatingly awkward. But Almas peeked at him again, and saw that a little half-smile had quirked its way onto Soph's face.

Boyfriends sounded pretty nice.

"This is cute and all," drawled a long, lean, purple shadow, "but it's also the slowest thing I've ever seen."

Almas scowled up at her. "Fuck off, Raquel," he said primly. "We are both sensitive beans and if we need to take our time, there's nothing wrong with that."

"I'm not talking about your relationship, kiddo. You do you." Raquel waved an airy hand at him. "I mean the whole introductions bit, because I've got shit to do that probably involves helping Plumeria with some nasty cleanup stuff, and this is literally the only reason I'm still standing here waiting around."

"Oh," said Almas, feeling foolish. He glanced over at Soph, whose eyes had gone wide at the sight of Raquel— and to be fair, she was pretty intimidating. She had a lot of piercings and she did dark, smoky makeup in contrast to Plumeria's high-fashion neon habit, and she was tall and wore low-cut shirts but still looked like she could kick your ass.

Almas frowned. The "but still" was internalized misogyny bullshit, and it could fuck right off. Raquel was tall and wore low-cut shirts, and she looked like she could kick your ass. That was more like it.

"Fine," he muttered resentfully. "Um, S-soph—" Soph went bright red. "This is Raquel. And she's a bi—" He reconsidered his word choices, because even if she wasn't right there, Plumeria would Know. She always, always Knew. "And she's the actual fucking worst."

"And damn proud of it," retorted Raquel, leaning over and ruffling at Almas's hair. "Thanks for indulging me, kid. See you later."

She sauntered off, but was promptly replaced by Jer and and a slightly demented-looking Molly with a nose splint, crowding in. Rogelio and Moonie, as was their habit, followed more sedately.

"Ohmygod hi," said Molly, grinning at Soph. "Obviously we've met before and all that, but it's the first time like, meeting you meeting you. It's a pity that I am on the good fucking drugs right now, I'd rather have met you when I wasn't high."

"Especially after that little conversation, which was holy shit cute, like I thought I would die cute—"

"Jer," said Moonie, smacking his boyfriend upside the head.

"Yes, darling dearest dove?"

"Shut the fuck up."

They began squabbling, and Molly was drafted in as the amused referee; but Rogelio drifted around all of it to sit on Soph's other side.

"I'm Rogelio," he said, with a soft smile. "We all love Almas a lot, so please treat him well, okay?"

Almas narrowed his eyes. "No matter how soft you are, that was still a shovel talk."

"I don't do shovel talks," said Rogelio archly. "I don't have to, given that you and the twits over there have often been the people wielding the shovels in question."

Almas winced. "Thanks for reminding me about things I have really, really been wanting to forget."

"I save the shovel talk for Plumeria," Rogelio informed him, and Almas paled because— well, really, that was so much worse.

"Does it count if I already kind of got one from Mr. Guzma?" ventured Soph.

At this, Molly, Jer, and Moonie turned to look at him, wide-eyed. "Aw, no way," said Molly at once. "You got shovel talked by the boss man? Dude, did you bring spare pants?"

"Well," said Soph thoughtfully, "I don't know if it was an aggressive shovel talk. But he pretty much said what Rogelio said. And—" He paused, clearing his throat. "Yeah, pretty much."

"And what?" Jer was a fucking Sharpedo, smelling blood in the water; his blue eyes gleamed with it as he leaned in. "What else did he say?"

Soph went bright red, almost curling back; and at this Almas promptly forgot his entire brain and flung himself across Soph's lap, pushing ineffectively at Jer's face. "Stop that! I repeat, we are both sensitive beans and we don't need your fucking peer pressure!"

"H-he said," said Soph hesitantly, placing one hand on Almas's shoulder to steady him, "that, um— um, that I should let Almas take care of me, a little bit." Almas felt his heart pound a little, hearing his name come out of Soph's mouth; but that mouth quirked into the half-smile again. "We can just, we can take care of each other."

For a few moments there was silence, and then Jer piped up with, "That's what she said—"

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE," bellowed Moonie, so loudly that Almas and Soph both jumped on the bench, and other groups of chatting Skulls turned to look at them. "IF I'VE TOLD YOU ONCE, I'VE TOLD YOU A MILLION TIMES. STOP RUINING CUTE EMOTIONAL SHIT BY MAKING PUERILE INNUENDOES. IT IS NEITHER FUNNY NOR ENDEARING AND I HIGH-KEY WANT TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE RIGHT NOW."

Jer's eyes were wide by the time Moonie was done speaking, and then he said breathlessly, "Hey, I need to go to the bathroom real quick, you wanna come with me?"

Moonie rolled his eyes, but got to his feet and strolled out of the room with Jeremiah bouncing next to him.

"Are they, um..." began Soph, but the blush was blooming again and he trailed off.

"Yes," sighed Almas. "They are probably going to find an empty room to make out in. They are my best friends and I adore them, but they are also idiots."

"For them," explained Rogelio, "arguing and pushing each other's buttons is like... uh, well. Fuck, how do I say this..."

"It's foreplay," Molly informed them cheerfully, and Soph's blush went from pink to magenta in an instant. "But in a considerably healthier way than what, say, boss man and Plumeria had a few months ago. Boy, was that a shitshow."

"The difference is, Jer might have tried to avoid talking about shit but Moonie would have none of it, and for some reason Moonie being bossy really like, does it for Jer."

Almas cringed. "Can we please change the subject," he begged. "I don't think Soph wants to hear about their sex life. Arceus knows I have to hear enough about it."

"I don't," said Soph immediately. "Um, want to hear about it, that is. I mean, good for them, as long as they're being, um— safe and responsible, and stuff. But I really, really don't want to know."

"Fair enough. We don't really want to know either, but that doesn't prevent the two of them from being inconsiderate, loud-ass kinky deviants," muttered Molly. "So, anyway, we're mostly now here to tell you about how flustered Al gets when you do anything, ever."

"Molly!" screeched Almas, mortified. "No! Fuck no! Off fucking limits!"

"But Almas," said Rogelio earnestly. "Think of the stories that would be told if it were Jer and Moonie trying to embarrass you. They know all of the stories; we only know some of them."

"Wait 'til Gladion comes back," suggested Almas. "Or, how about this: never."

"Nice try, but Gladion wasn't living with us when you started talking to Soph."

Almas eyed them, unamused. "Or you could let the tradition of trying to embarrass someone in front of their partner die a swift and merciless death."

Molly considered this for a moment. "Actually, I rather like the sound of that."

"Yeah," agreed Rogelio. "Mostly because you phrased it in such a way that if we disagreed, we would look like dicks, so—"

There was a buzzing noise, and Rogelio promptly pulled out his phone to squint at it. Molly regarded him a few moments, a pitying expression on her face, then turned back to Almas and Soph. "Anyway, now that he's out of commission, I will make sure nobody tries to embarrass you too much."

"Thanks."

"In return," said Molly, getting to her feet and hauling Rogelio up by his elbow, "please at the very least consider holding hands or something. Holding hands with people is fun. I'm going to take this one off to a quiet corner so he can be a lovelorn angstlord all by himself."

"Am not," said Rogelio vaguely, but the crease between his eyebrows as he read whatever messages he was getting told Almas that said messages were from Jack— and that meant that lovelorn angstlord was fairly on the nose. Molly rolled her eyes and dragged him off; and that left just Almas and Soph.

"Sorry," mumbled Almas.

"Don't be sorry," said Soph quietly. "I mean— we're not so nervous now, right?"

"I— well, no, I guess not."

They both snickered at that. Almas glanced at Soph's hands, which were clasped together on his lap, and thought about maybe holding hands before deciding that he wasn't brave enough today; in fact, he had already been quite brave and therefore had a certifiable excuse to be out of bravery, for once. Maybe some other time.

That resolve crumbled when Soph unclasped his hands and reached out, placing one over one of Almas's clenched fists.

"We don't have to just because she said so. But it's okay so far, right?"

Almas nodded jerkily. "'S okay with me."

He uncurled his fingers and let his hands relax; and then he took a deep breath and threaded them slowly between Soph's fingers.

He looked up, and met Soph's dark, soft eyes. Soph smiled at him, a proper one this time; and he seemed content enough so Almas carefully inched a little closer.

A little at a time. That's all they needed.

* * * * *

Chapter Text

* * * * * January 3rd * * * * *

"I literally hate this."

"Smile, bitch," ordered Molly, holding up the camera. "We didn't get you designer underwear so you could whine about it."

Rogelio glared at her for a few seconds. "You're not the one who has to do this."

"Trust me, if I thought for even half a second that Jack Felton would look at me more than twice, I'd have volunteered in a heartbeat. But he prefers his girls pretty similarly shaped to how he prefers his boys— that is to say, slender and a bit androgynous in the right clothes. I am fat and unquestionably femme no matter what I wear, so it wouldn't have worked."

Rogelio closed his eyes, then reached up and pulled the too-large sweater off one shoulder before twisting to pose languidly on the bed.

"Long neck," called Moonie, directing the shoot from a distance. "It's bunching up and you look uncomfortable— there you go, good job."

Almas sat on the floor with his Mudbray in his lap, glaring at Molly. "I still think this is essentially prostitution, with a side dish of homophobia that nobody asked for."

"You weren't asked," said Raquel, and honestly if she hadn't been in the room, Rogelio could have pretended that they were just taking pictures for Spindagram, or even Fletchtinder. Raquel wasn't one of them, wasn't part of their group. She wasn't One Of The Gays, as Molly liked to put it. She was a reminder that the Team-Skull-Plus-Friends master plan to take down a criminal organization was currently relying on accidentally-on-purpose almost-nudes sent by a barely legal twink in an attempt to snare the heart of a notoriously heartless guy who frankly, Rogelio wasn't even sure was really bisexual. Raquel had been known to prank people before.

In all honesty: they were fucked.

"Okay," said Ki-moon finally. "I think you've got enough with the sweater on."

"I have to take it off?"

"We know you're a prude, dad," said Jeremiah, without looking up from his phone. Raquel snickered.

Rogelio inhaled, then let it out slowly. "Please don't call me dad," he said wearily.

"You're pretty much our dad. You were the one who got us the condoms when we first got here. You literally said, please practice safe sex. It's such a dad thing to say and you are totally a dad."

"Okay, fine, but maybe don't fucking call me dad while I'm in the middle of a nude photoshoot?"

"It's better than daddy, isn't it—"

"Jer," said Moonie conversationally.

"Yes, muffin?"

"Shut the fuck up."

They began squabbling, and Rogelio shifted uncomfortably on the fancy Aether bed that didn't feel like home even though they'd been here for nearly three weeks. Molly caught his eye and offered an apologetic smile.

"It's bullshit," she said softly, "but they think it will work."

Rogelio eyed her. "Do you think it will work?"

"Yeah, actually. I was at that party, when he got pissed out of his mind and started talking about being an equal-opportunity genitalia connoisseur."

"I bet he didn't phrase it like that," murmured Rogelio, raising one eyebrow at her.

"Nah," said Molly, with a sharp smirk. "Honestly, he's kind of dumb. I don't know what you see in him."

Rogelio flushed, and she motioned for him to peel off the sweater.

"Lie down on the bed," called Moonie, clearly having won whatever argument he'd had with Jeremiah; the latter was sulking, glaring at his phone as though it had personally offended him. "Molly, up on the chair so you can get an aerial shot."

"Where does the chair go?"

"Foot of the bed. Aim the camera so you've just got the lower half of his face— nose is fine, but not the eyes. Rog, one hand up by your head— curl it, kind of loose, just like that. Good. Other hand on your stomach." He surveyed Rogelio. "Lower."

"It's not really on my stomach anymore."

"Everything's covered by the sheet, but that is kind of the point."

Rogelio made a face, but moved his hand where Moonie indicated it should go. Molly wiggled her eyebrows devilishly.

"Now, take a deep breath."

He tried— he really did. But he felt stupid, and Jeremiah wasn't paying attention but he was being studiously annoyed at Moonie, and he could feel that from the other end of the room; and Almas was angry on his behalf and he could feel that too; and Raquel was sitting in the corner being all scientific about it and that was worst of all.

"All right," said Moonie, after a few moments. "What's wrong?"

Rogelio closed his eyes and sighed. "Could maybe all of you but Molly and Moonie just like, go out of the room for a few minutes?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," said Moonie at once, and Rogelio winced because that was the tone that Moonie used when he felt bad about something. "Everybody out."

"I have to stay," said Raquel.

"Not for the photography, you don't. You can watch me edit." Moonie waved her, Jeremiah, and Almas out of the room, taking the camera from Molly. "Molly, can you adjust the light?"

"Sure." She climbed down from the chair and began re-angling the big lamp that they were using, lighting up Rogelio's skinny chest and soft stomach as well as the gray bedsheet covering everything below his waist.

"Okay," said Moonie quietly. "Sorry, I didn't think they would all bother you that much."

"You are taking pictures of me while I am mostly not wearing clothes. Not really a spectator sport."

"Yeah, I should have known. Okay, hand up, other on your stomach. Breathe in, then let it out slow. And again. And... one more time." Moonie paused, stepping up on the chair and holding up the camera. "You're doing great. Now, think about that time Lianhong challenged Jack to a pushup contest, specifically when Jack was doing the pushups where he claps his hands in the middle. Got it? Now smile and bite your lower lip on one side."

Rogelio did exactly that, because it was a pretty nice memory and all of them knew it; and he immediately felt like an idiot but the camera flashed and Moonie peered at the results, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, damn," he said, after a few seconds. "I usually just think of you as our grumpy, skinny twink dad who likes plants and drag queens, but this is a really good picture. Like, you look hot and I would consider sending this in a portfolio, kind of good."

Rogelio sat up and held out his hands, beckoning. Moonie put the camera in his hands, and he frowned at it for a few moments.

"It just looks like me."

"Maybe to you, but I think that that's probably what you're most hung up about." Moonie took the camera back. "I might do that one in black and white... up the contrast a little, maybe warm the lighting."

"Because I'm brown, and somehow still pasty."

"Yes, very that. Okay, now turn on your stomach, and Molly's going to arrange the sheet over your ass to show the very tiniest hint of ass-crack—"

"I'm not fucking sending him my ass-crack as an accidental nude," said Rogelio, appalled. "If that last one was so good, we can just use it, can't we?"

Moonie considered. "You definitely have to say you had me or Molly help you take it," he reminded him, pulling the SD card out of the camera. "But if you throw a Spindagram filter on it, he'll assume it was just done on your phone. Let me put this into my laptop, tweak it a bit, and send it to you."

"And then scrub it from your system."

"But it's not really a nude, and it would be great in my portfolio..."

Rogelio eyed him. "It better not go to anywhere on the Internet until after everything is finished."

"Cross my heart," promised Moonie.

Rogelio nodded, and reached for his sweater. Molly, to his gratitude, had remained quiet under Moonie's direction and now opened his dresser to fling some clean shorts in his direction. Chanterelle had been watching from the dresser and held out her arms once he was dressed; he picked her up and petted her absently. Molly let the others back in the room. Moonie was already absorbed in his work, frowning over the photoshop application and changing the way the light shone in the picture.

"You're not really changing anything," said Raquel, hovering over Moonie's shoulder.

"Don't need to."

"Yeah," said Molly, frowning at Raquel. "You know exactly what Jack said, at that party."

"I wasn't there."

"Oh, like Cassie didn't tell you the very second he mentioned Rogelio."

Raquel scowled.

"What do you mean, he mentioned me?" said Rogelio, confused.

"Apparently when he outed himself," said Jeremiah, pulling his phone out of his pocket and walking across to sit next to Rogelio on the bed, "he said some stuff about you specifically."

He passed the phone to Rogelio and tapped play on a video on the screen. The person holding the camera was clearly drunk and the visuals kept blurring together, but the audio was pristine. Rogelio watched and listened, still clutching Chanterelle.

"And— and, god, you know who's really fucking hot? Like, really, really fucking hot? Like—" There were some incoherent mumbling noises, but then, Jack Felton said clearly, "Silveira."

The pit dropped out of Rogelio's stomach. Everyone in the video went oddly quiet.

"No, listen! I know you're all judging the shit out of me, but listen. Have you ever like, looked at the guy? He's got fuckin'... I dunno, Deerling eyes. Something out of one of those Kantonian cartoons. They're big and round and they're fuckin' pretty, bro. You can't really see it with those grandpa-ass glasses but like, when he does that thing where he takes them off and cleans them with the hem of his shirt and he's like, not looking at you... like holy fuck I just kind of want to pin him down and choke him?"

Rogelio squeaked and threw the phone across the room.

"Hey, careful!" yelped Jeremiah. "And he's not done."

Like an omen, Jack's voice floated drunkenly, hauntingly out of Jeremiah's phone speakers. "He kind of looks like he'd cry during sex. I'm kind of into that." There was a pause, as Jeremiah picked up the phone and quietly returned to the bed. "Like he just looks soft, I don't know. There's something about Silveira. Yeah, I dunno. There's something about him."

The video ended.

"Why— why do you have that video," said Rogelio. His voice came out very faint.

"In case I need blackmail."

"Why would you need blackmail?"

Jeremiah rolled his eyes. "Well, I offered it as like, a better alternative to prostituting you out, but they turned me down. Now I have it because if you really do end up with him, I'll need something that will assist Moonie and Al and me, a trio of tiny gay boys, in giving him, a muscle pig, a shovel talk that won't look absolutely ridiculous."

"I'm touched that you have such faith in me," said Rogelio flatly.

"This way is better in the long-term." There was something hard in Raquel's dark eyes.

The thing was— Rogelio and Raquel weren't friends, but they came from the same community: a neighborhood of half-Orrean, half-Kalosian people that had moved to Alola about forty years previously. Raquel was fluent in Orcalos, the language that their people had blended together, whereas Rogelio only knew how to say a couple of words, mostly food and slang; but they grew up together. They ate cassava chips and picanha, and they would line up at the food truck that stopped on their street, just outside Raquel's house and a few down from Rogelio's, and buy a large carton of acarajé com vatapá. And of course, Raquel's mom made the best brigadeiros da escosia in the entire neighborhood. Rogelio had tried to make the truffles in the kitchen, but he was shit at cooking and sometimes, despite the fact that the community would never, ever take him back— sometimes, he missed them.

They had never been all that close, but: they were the same people, the same culture. Raquel was, in every way, a typical Orcalheña (as their people had taken to calling themselves) girl. Loud, brash, unapologetically feminine in her demeanor, confident. Rogelio was not, by contrast, a typical Orcalheño boy.

He looked at Raquel, and she looked back, and her eyes were hard and angry— understandably so, because that video had been filmed while she and Jack had been friends-with-benefits and it probably hurt a little bit to hear him talk about finding someone else hot. Rogelio willed her to understand that it wasn't his fault, that he didn't ask for it, and the fact that the compliments had sent a hot flush up his chest and back down to... well, lower.. it wasn't meant to insult her.

She must have understood, because she let out a soft sigh and muttered something in Orcalos. Rogelio didn't speak it but he could pick out words here and there.

"Foda-se, você está sendo uma vadia..."

She stood up and walked over to Rogelio. "Eu sinto muito, baixinho."

He understood enough Orcalos to know that, and accepted the hug she gave him. "Fuck you, I'm not short."

"I'm literally apologizing to you, and you're being an ass about what I call you?" Raquel rolled her eyes, but there was a look of fondness in them now. "You're lucky I don't break your kneecaps. You know how us Orcalheñas get about someone stealing their man."

"He wasn't your man," pointed out Almas. "It was friends with benefits."

"No," agreed Raquel. "But I still went and caught a couple of feelings like a dumbass, didn't I?" She shrugged. "Whatever, I'll get over it."

"I volunteer as your rebound fuck," said Molly, not looking at them as she focused on what Moonie was doing at the computer.

"I'm flattered, but I'll have to pass."

"Fair enough." Molly offered a thumbs-up, still without looking.

Raquel turned back to study Rogelio for a few moments. "He said some shit," she said, still watching him, "about wanting to pin you down and choke you or whatever."

Rogelio felt himself go Cherrim-red. "I-I heard."

"He and I didn't do much of anything kinky. It was more about getting off— but he liked being on top, until one day I flipped him over and kept going and I think his entire brain exploded."

"How the fuck did you do that? You're nearly as skinny as me."

"Legs," said Raquel succinctly. "You need to start going to the gym, baixinho. Aether's got a free one for employees, and we have access to it. Your shoulders and abs don't matter, he already likes those, but if you want to be able to flip him over then you're going to need legs that aren't little chicken drumsticks. And it will do wonders for your ass."

"Dad already has the booty, he doesn't need—"

"I'm sorry," said Raquel tartly, turning around to glare at Almas. "Do you have prior experience in how Jack Felton fucks? No? Then kindly shut up." She turned back to Rogelio. "He's an ass man, but that's a damn good picture."

"Thanks, irmã," mumbled Rogelio, flushing.

"If he breaks your heart, baixinho, I'll make you truffles," she said, and left the room.

"What did she say to you?" said Jeremiah curiously. "That thing she called you. Bye— bye-sheen-yo?"

"Baixinho," corrected Rogelio, almost absently. "It means— shorty, I guess. But it's kind of like, in a cute way. It's a pet name."

"So she isn't really the heartless bitch she likes to pretend to be?"

Rogelio stared at him incredulously. "Raquel makes people chocolate on their birthdays. She learned how to get Dalisay lying down safely during her seizures. She literally goes and gets flowers for people who are going through rough shit. Where did you get the idea that she's a heartless bitch?"

"Honey," said Molly gently, "she does not do that for everyone. The chocolate and flowers were for Jack, Cassie, and you. And everyone's got a soft spot for Dalisay, she doesn't count."

"I don't have a soft spot for her," muttered Jeremiah mutinously. "She fucking stayed in Po Town, and she could have come with us."

"The Foxes control her seizure medication. She didn't really have much of a choice."

"Oh, like Ms. Wicke couldn't have gotten any for her?"

"She doesn't trust Aether, which is absolutely fair given some of the shadier shit they've done. And she doesn't trust big pharma in general, given the price of her meds without insurance. Ten grand outta pocket for ninety pills is fucking dumb. Let's change the subject," said Molly firmly. "Rog, come look at the finished product."

Rogelio shuffled awkwardly across the room with Chanterelle clinging to his shirt. Ki-moon was pretty damn good with a camera, he decided. The person in the picture didn't quite look like the Rogelio that he saw in the mirror every day, but it was still recognizably him, with the tattooed vines spiraling up his upper right arm and curling into small green bell-shaped flowers. Bells of Armor, they were called; they grew native to the Isle of Armor, off the coast of Galar. They were one of Rogelio's favorite flowers, and he had a lot of those.

"That looks good," he said, with a sigh. "Go ahead and send it to me."

"Hell yeah." Moonie closed the file and clicked on a few things, and Rogelio felt a buzz in his pocket that meant he'd received the picture. "Be sure and put a Spindagram filter on it, but just a really soft one. I edited it so it would work with either the Gingham or the Mayfair filter."

"I don't know that I'd call Mayfair soft."

"It's for making the tattoo pop, if you want to emphasize that," explained Moonie. "But personally, I'd go with the Gingham."

Rogelio went with the Gingham, and there the picture was— waiting, until he turned eighteen in three days.

* * * * * January 5th * * * * *

Chat: Rogelio Silveira, Jack Felton

Rogelio Silveira: Picture Attachment: [IMG314.jpeg]

Rogelio Silveira: OMG PLEASE DONT OPEN THAT

Rogelio Silveira: i didn't mean to send it, im so sorry!!!

Jack Felton: its all good dont worry about it

Jack Felton: tho if u wanna accidentally send more pix like that im not gonna complain lmao

Rogelio stared at Molly, terrified. "Now what?"

"We did take more than one picture," she pointed out. "Moonie's been working on editing them for the last few days, but right now you don't want to send another one. You are a spider, and he is a fly. You're pulling him in slowly."

"I don't know what the fuck to say to that though! This was a stupid plan, it hinges on me not being awkward and I don't know how to do that! Oh my god this was so dumb. This was so fucking dumb. I'm going to get us all killed because I have almost no experience in actually flirting with someone. Fuck."

Molly raised an eyebrow at him. "You done?" she said flatly.

"Yeah."

"Give me the phone, I'm going to fish for a compliment."

Rogelio eyed her suspiciously, but she just held out her hand and waited.

Chat: Rogelio Silveira, Jack Felton

Rogelio Silveira: why wouldnt u complain?

Rogelio Silveira: i know im not rlly that much 2 look at

Jack Felton: ur not ugly lol

Jack Felton: ill send u one, if u send me another

Rogelio had to physically close his eyes to keep them from popping out of his skull in surprise. Molly let out a whoop.

"It worked!" she cheered. "He took the bait! Get fucked, Foxes!"

* * * * * mid January * * * * *

Chat: bougainvillea & white clover

him: gm, how r u today

me: p good thx :) how r u

him: also p good

him: Picture Attachment: [IMG182.jpeg]

me: oh so its abs day huh

him: yep

me: ur lookin p good

me: muscles r doin what they do

me: good job, jacks muscles

him: u made me laugh in the middle of a set lmao

him: emmett told me to shut up and text my gf later

me: is that who u told him i was

him: i didn't say bf or gf, i said i met someone

him: he assumed a girl

me: i could probably pass for a girl in the right clothes

him: h oly fcuk

him: at least wait until im not in public to say shit like that

him: i popped a boner. emmett n ko r laffin at me

me: sorry

him: i mean dont apologize b/c that's... rlly hot

him: just a lil embarrassing

me: a kink u didnt know u had? :P

him: yea p much

* * * * * late January * * * * *

Chat: bougainvillea & white clover

him: ur fuckin w/ me

me: s2g im not

him: ur favorite tv show is about drag queens.

me: listen i will write u a goddamn essay about why alola's drag race is the best fuckin show to ever go on television

me: its got drama, its got angst, it's got creativity, it's got art

me: and it's got v hot gay men dressing up as women and lip-syncing to pop classics

me: what more can u ask 4

him: maybe ill check it out

me: make sure ur alone tho

me: i dont want emmett or kohaku 2 give u a hard time about it

him: they can both get fucked

him: they both know if they say shit about what i watch ill deck them and not even be sorry about it

me: but wouldnt kohaku get u in trouble w/ the foxes if u hit him?

him: o yea probably

him: but it wouldn't matter 4 emmett and we all have different rooms now so i could watch by myself

him: is it on netballflix

me: no but u can buy a season at a time on aggron prime or poketube

me: or we could use that app where we can both watch something at the same time b/c we have netballflix at aether

him: lets do that, b/c im poor

me: lmao same

* * * * * January 30th * * * * *

chat: bougainvillea & white clover

him: rogelio

me: yea?

him: have u talked to moon lately

me: i talk to moonie all the time

him: not ki-moon. u know, moon. gladion's girl

me: i have a chat with just her and molly, and also one with her, molly, the terrible triplets, and cass

me: it's mostly memes but she definitely sends her fair share

him: ok

him: will u see if she's ok

me: did something happen?

him: yea

him: she seemed ok but me n emmett r kinda not so i just wanted 2 check

me: omg

him: ?

me: i just heard what happened

him: yea?

me: holy shit jack im so sorry

me: about kohaku

me: i know he wasn't v nice but he was ur friend

him: ko didn't have friends

him: not rlly

him: but like...

me: yea?

him: solgaleo.

me: ??!?

him: did they not tell u about that

me: no????

him: he was there

him: afh he was terrifying

him: he fuckin cut one of their head off

him: he cut the others into ribbons

me: omg

him: and then tapu bulu showed up

him: and he's the one who killed ko

him: it was fucked up

him: i guess that foxglove guy who founded the foxes, he was ko's uncle or smth?

him: and i knew ko was fucked up but he was screaming shit at solgaleo and tapu bulu

him: i thought i was go ing to p iss msyel f

him: fcuk i cant tp ye rn

me: call me

him: w vee nev re done taht

me: i dont give a fuck call me

"...and... I think the worst part was... well, Moon."

Rogelio frowned. He was outside, sitting on the edge of one of the big garden planters. "Why?"

"She was like—" Jack's breath hitched slightly. "You've seen her battle, right? You see how she focuses, how she... she's like..."

"How the rest of the world stops mattering," said Rogelio softly.

"Yeah. It was like that, except she wasn't battling. She was just looking at them. Legendary Pokémon. Talking to them, like they were her friends or something. And it was like— you know how Plumeria is hot but in a scary way?"

"Uh— aesthetically speaking, I guess?"

"Oh right, you're not into chicks." Jack paused. "Guzma's just straight up scary, but... ugh, I guess Gladion? He's a fucking douchebag, but he's also hot. In a scary way."

"Okay," conceded Rogelio. "Tell that to my sixteen-year-old self, who tried to ask him out about two weeks after joining Team Skull, but I understand."

"You're kidding." But Jack was laughing.

"I swear to Arceus, I'm not. I asked him out, and he said no but he was really nice about it."

Jack was still laughing, but there was something strange in it— something that caught, something that burst. Rogelio realized, in shock and horror, that Jack was crying.

"Jack?" he said softly. "Jack, what's wrong?"

"...s-sorry," muttered Jack. "It's— fuckin' allergies, I get them every year."

"Jack."

"What?" he said, a touch defensively.

"You don't have to pretend with me."

There was a long silence, and Rogelio simply waited.

"Okay," said Jack softly. "Okay, yeah. Not with you, you're like— you're cool about that kind of thing."

They both sighed, at the same time.

"Solgaleo licked my face."

Rogelio sat bolt upright. "He what?"

"Licked my face," repeated Jack. "It was kind of... gross, because he'd just been killing people and there was blood on his mouth. But he was just— he said—"

There was a long silence, during which he could only hear the harsh breaths of the other.

"He said, listen to your friends, and the people who love you. And that— that I have the opportunity to make amends for the hurt I've caused to others."

"Well," said Rogelio cautiously, "that's a good thing, right? You get a second chance."

"I don't—" Jack sucked in a harsh breath. "Rogelio, I don't know."

He sounded desperate. Rogelio reminded himself to be patient. "You don't know what?"

"I don't... I don't know who. Who would."

Blood pounded in Rogelio's ears; and something soft, something bitter, something sweet, something he had nurtured for a long time rose, from his chest to his throat. "You don't know who would love you?"

Jack's breath hitched. "Y-yeah. I'm not— I'm not a. A good person. I've done some bad shit. Some really, really bad shit."

Rogelio closed his eyes. "Jack," he said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Emmett loves you."

That earned him a snort of laughter. "Like he'd ever admit it."

"Probably not. And I know you don't really talk to her much, but Raquel loves you. As a friend, anyway."

"I guess. We text sometimes."

"Trust me, she does. And—" Rogelio took a deep, quiet breath and let it out, equally quietly. "Jack, I love you, too."

There was a long, painful silence. Cold crept through his veins; it carried rejection, insecurity, doubt— he'd been so stupid, he shouldn't have said anything—

"Y-you do?"

Jack's voice was almost too quiet to be heard over the call.

"Yeah," breathed Rogelio, relief coursing through him. "Yeah, Jack, of course I do. You're my friend."

"We're... friends."

"Oh, definitely. We're whatever you want us to be."

Another long silence, but this one was... hazier, somehow. It was a less subtle line than most of the flirtation Rogelio had initiated with Jack.

"Friends," said Jack finally, "that send each other nudes?"

"Well— sometimes you're more than friends."

It was sort of killing him to not say something like, We're actually cyber-sexting on a fairly regular basis and I'm embarrassingly emotionally attached to you. Jack tended to panic when Rogelio was direct about that kind of thing, so he had learned to be gentle, to be subtle, to give Jack the refuge of vagueness.

"What if..." Jack trailed off.

"What if?" Rogelio prompted him, after a few moments.

"Do you—" Jack paused, and Rogelio heard him swallow audibly. "Do you want to... meet up sometime?"

Rogelio's breath caught. "Yes," he said breathlessly, thinking about— warmth, strength, intimacy.

"For, um... like, coffee? Or we could— we could see a movie, or something."

Something slow like fire burned, starting in his chest and slowly crawling up behind his eyes. Jack was secretly a die-hard romantic, which had been hell on Rogelio because he'd despaired about it ever being directed his way. Even better than the idea of sex was the possibility of, maybe, something more.

He would not cry. He would not fucking cry. "Yes," he whispered. "Jack, yes, I— I really want to. With you."

There was a long silence. "Okay," murmured Jack. "Um, we can. We can do that."

* * * * * March 2nd * * * * *

chat: bougainvillea & white clover

him: what the fuck did you guys do

me: what

him: van is fuckin PISSED

him: like, scary pissed

me: let me ask u a question first

him: ?

me: did u know about team rainbow rocket?

him: what

me: b/c van's got no room to be pissed off when 1 of his minions held us at gunpoint in a room 4 abt 5 hrs with no food, water, or toilet breaks

me: plumeria, molly, raquel and i were held separate

me: they broke molly's nose and she damn near fainted from blood loss

me: so when u say "what the fuck did you guys do" it sounds a little like ur blaming us for his bad temper

me: jack im a pretty forgiving person most of the time but im absolutely not gonna sit here & let u talk that kind of shit until u know the whole story

him: WHAT

him: WHAT THE FUCK

me: van sent a bunch of people who took aether paradise hostage

me: which includes the majority of team skull

him: includes all of team skull

him: not really a skull anymore am i

me: would u rather b a fox

him: fuck no

him: they're all psychotic bastards

me: then shush, ur still a skull

me: so yea the reason he's pissed is because moon sailed in and saved the day

me: she kind of does that, u know

him: yea i guess she does lmao

him: r u ok tho

him: u said they broke molly's nose, did they hurt u?

me: van said some shit

me: b/c it's pretty clear from looking at my twink ass that i am, in fact, One Of The Gays

me: & i said some shit back, so i got slapped in the face

him: he said like, nasty shit?

him: about u bein gay?

me: yes, it was homophobic and not at all nice

him: fuck im sorry

him: that sucks

me: thanks but tbh ive heard worse

me: & u know molly, she can't keep her mouth shut

me: jeremiah and moonie talked back and also hid almas in the a/c vents so the thugs couldnt get him, they would have been a lot worse to him

me: so they have a fat lip and black eye, respectively

him: shit

him: look i still think almas's whole thing is like... fuckin weird

him: but weve been watchin that show together & some of the people on it r like that so its not like

him: it doesnt bother me as much as it used 2

me: im glad

me: almas has been thru enough shit

me: one less person who that thinks he's wrong or gross is a victory, even if it's just a small one

him: sure

him: look, if this is stupid just like say so

him: but the coffee thing went okay

him: went pretty good actually

him: and now im like lowkey freakin out that u went thru all that

him: do u think u can get away 4 a bit? meet me at the same cafe?

me: yea

me: i want 2

me: u make me feel safe

* * * * *

Chapter Text

* * * * * early-mid December * * * * *

"Guzma, wake up!"

Her voice trilled in his ear, a headache and a half.

On god, honest to Arceus? It kinda reminded him of the time that one of the twins— goddamn it, he kept mixing up their names. One was Jianhong and one was Yaling, and he knew one was a boy and one was a girl but he couldn't for the life of him remember which name belonged to which twin. Internalized racism, fucking stupid. Goddamn brain, not remembering important shit when he needed it.

Anyway, it was the boy twin, and he decided for some reason he wanted to learn to play the violin. So Guzma picked up a cheap-ass plastic violin at the flea market in the community center, because the boy twin was a pretty good kid. And the kid had brought the stick with strings on it up to the other strings, and—

Screeeeeaaatch.

Guzma had decided promptly: fuck this shit, I'm out. And whichever twin it was, thankfully, had decided the same thing after a few days. It might've had something to do with everyone throwing socks at him every time he tried to play anything, but at least the godawful noise stopped.

The point was, her voice kind of sounded like that, and his head felt like it was full of cotton.

All around them was nothing but darkness, but thanks to all the glowy plants and coral and shit, he could see for ages. She skipped along, calling out as she walked. "Arbutus! Arbutus! My love, where are you?"

Guzma had to keep from rolling his eyes as he followed. He wasn't getting five milion P's if he didn't mind his P's and Q's, after all.

* * * * * ? ? ? * * * * *

Later, he sort of wished he hadn't minded his P's and Q's. Maybe he could have shamed her out of thinking that actual fucking monsters were going to help her find her missing nutjob husband.

* * * * * December 28th * * * * *

The blackness opened into light; the colors whirled around him. He was going to be fucking sick.

And then something solid slammed into his stomach; he was on the ground. He groaned and cracked open his eyes.

It was home, thank fuck, but— there was something wrong. There was something wrong. He could still hear it, could still hear the void and the colors and the empty wrongness of space—

—could still hear the siren shriek of the black crystal monster, growing gradually louder behind him—

Something shifted, and he focused his gaze before looking up. There stood Gladion and Moon, wearing slim-fitted space suits like what the aliens wore, the few times he'd seen them.

And behind them stood the aliens, and Gladion's kid sister (he'd only just learned about it before he went to space. They looked exactly the fuck alike and furthermore they looked exactly the fuck like her, how didn't he realize? He'd been preoccupied, sure, but he wasn't fucking blind), and Hala's grandkid, and—

Oh, no.

Oh, fuck no.

"Are you all fuckin' idiots or something?" he rasped, bile rising in his throat. "Get the fuck out of here, get it away—"

"Get what away?" said Moon.

"Lunala, dumbass!" The Pokémon in question cocked its head to one side, intrigued. "It's coming— the light-eater, the one she wouldn't shut up about—"

There was a violent lurch, one he felt with his ears and eyes and at the same time inside his head.

"Sir!" yelled the lady alien. "Sir, the Blinding One—"

Uh-oh, said a voice in his brain— not one of his own demons but a legendary, speaking through whatsitcalled. ESPN, or something. It sounded like— god, fuck, it sounded like a little girl. I think maybe I should try to close it. From what I have heard you say about Grandmother, I don't want to meet her just yet.

"Grandmother?" said Gladion's kid sister.

The world shook again, and he heard the scream, just behind him.

“T-t-too late, kid, it's too f-fucking lat-t-t-t—”

And then there was merciful silence.

* * * * * December 30th * * * * *

The ceiling was so bright and white that he knew where he was immediately. There was only one place in the world that was that disgustingly bright.

He tried to move, wiggling his elbows to try and prop himself up; but a firm hand slammed in his chest and pushed him back down.

Furious golden eyes met his. "Guzma Roeland Mahelona," hissed Plumes. "Don't. You. Fucking. Move."

"Wha—" His throat was suddenly pinched and parched, his tongue sandpaper in his mouth. "Plumes—"

"You absolute fucking jerkwad!"

The screech was inhumanly loud, or maybe that was just him.

"You followed that megalomaniac abusive-ass bitch into fucking space!"

Guzma breathed out a sigh, closing his eyes.

"Fuck you very much for falling for her bullshit! Fuck you for leaving without a goddamn word! Fuck you for leaving me to take care of the kids all by myself for a month! Fuck you for making me deal with the fucking Foxes, all by myself!"

It was strange, possibly a bit fucked-up, but— he'd missed this. He'd missed the sound of her voice.

"Fuck you!" she screamed again. "Once you aren't in danger of dying, your ass is toast. I'm going to murder you, bring you back to life like the fucking Tapu, and murder you again! Don't you ever goddamn do that to me again! Don't you EVER leave me like that!"

"Plumes," he managed, even though the S at the end scratched his throat and tongue and he had to cough.

"Don't you interrupt me, I'm not done yelling at you yet! You're a piece of shit, you know that? The second you were gone the Foxes decided that my goddamn house was fair game. We had to fucking evacuate! Kohaku, who you knew was batshit crazy and kept around anyway, stole your housekeys and handed them over to Tomasio. Fucking! Tomasio!"

His heart sank a little bit. "Plumes, I'm not askin' you to—"

"You better not ask me anything, you piece of shit! It's lucky that Trinh and Uilani heard him giggling over the line about something, the creepy fucker, and came to warn me right away that Ko had something up his fucking sleeve. It's lucky that Tomasio decided to walk right in during breakfast, because that meant Liyah was with all of us and not in her room by herself. And it's real goddamn lucky that I was carrying, because he had a gun and he was going to kill me to get to her, if I hadn't gotten to him first!"

Guzma felt his eye twitch, and forced himself to unclench his fists. Tomasio, back in his house. Well, Plumes' house really, but— still. They'd made him leave for a reason.

"D'you kill 'im?" he said wearily.

"Did I kill him, he asks me!"

Here was the part that he was less fond of— now that the rage had blown off the top, the biting sarcasm followed. Plumes was smart, she had educated parents and a college degree of her own, and she used words and fought nasty, fought dirty. Guzma on the other hand— well, he'd finished high school. Hadn't really done much else. He wasn't all that bright to begin with, but getting clonked on the head a few too many times had probably not helped him any.

"Of course I fucking killed him, asshole! And that means I fired a shot in my own goddamn house, and killed one of my own goddamn kids. And of course Kohaku tells Van straight off and I wanted to kill him too, oh I wanted to, but there was no fucking time. I got the rest of them the hell out of there, got them on every Ride Pager we've ever scraped up. I had a hundred fucking kids crammed into my goddamn trailer. They were sleeping on the roof until Gladion told us to go to Aether. And while we were getting kids packed and out, Kohaku and Emmett decide they're going to hunt down Rogelio, because they're nasty homophobic little assholes, and they nearly slit his goddamn throat before Molly and Cass found him! He's going to have a permanent fucking scar!"

Guzma felt his throat close. He'd been very careful to hide it from everyone besides Plumes, but he had a soft spot about the size of Mount Lanakila for Rogelio. The kid had shown up eighteen months ago, thin and bruised with hollow eyes; and there was nothing like seeing yourself in someone for growing a stupid fucking soft spot.

He'd been beaten for bullshit reasons by people who were supposed to be taking care of him, too.

Plumes was still ranting. "—been called to help kids with nightmares and panic attacks more goddamn times than I can count anymore! I don't mind it, you know I don't, but it's exhausting! I needed you, they needed you, and you weren't! Fucking! THERE!"

The last word was screamed so loudly he wasn't entirely sure that his eardrums hadn't burst, because of the silence that followed. Plumes breathed hard, glaring at him.

Guzma swallowed, which felt like drinking sand, and said the thing he'd wanted to say since about five seconds after walking into the goddamn wormhole.

" 'M sorry."

Her eyes narrowed. "Sorry," she said, in a clipped voice, "is not going to fucking cut it with me. You have no idea what I've—"

"Plumes, could you get me a glass of water?"

She blinked at him for a few moments, and he could see the immediate reaction of offense at the interruption; but then her eyes flicked down to look at his mouth.

"Yeah," she said shortly, standing up. "Just a second."

"Thanks."

She nodded once, striding over to a door in the wall and slamming it shut behind her.

Guzma supposed that he probably deserved that.

Arceus fuck, the kids.

He'd heard the money before the kids. It wasn't that he hadn't heard the kids— after all, it was in his mind to give them a new roof over their heads with the five million.

But you weren't there, said a little voice in his head, a little voice that was him after hearing Plumeria. They've dealt with a leaky roof forever, they could have dealt with it a little longer as long as you were there.

Plumes came back, with a disgruntled expression on her face; she was trailed by a lady in a pink sweater that Guzma had seen around Aether a few times, as well as a male nurse.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Mahelona," said the lady in the pink sweater, and she gestured toward the nurse. "This is Eric. Will you let him check your wounds and whichever vitals we can't access through the computer? We can give you water when he's finished."

Guzma shrugged. "Sure, whatever," he mumbled, and Eric nodded politely before moving toward the bed and folding down the blanket that had been on his chest.

He was wearing one of those dinky green hospital gowns, which was gross but given the state his clothes had been in when he'd gotten out of the— when he'd gotten out, it made sense to get rid of them.

"What'm I hooked up to?" he asked.

"IV line, heart monitor, blood pressure monitor, and catheter," said Eric briskly.

"Catheter? Who the fuck's been touching my dick?"

Eric flushed, the lady in pink snorted, and Plumes sighed loudly and clapped one hand to her forehead.

"Medical professionals, dumbass," she said. "You can have it taken out once you're eating solid foods."

"Which is when?"

"When we've had a brief conversation," said the lady in pink. "Let Eric work, and I'll talk. Just don't think about the catheter."

Guzma eyed her suspiciously. "I've seen you before. Who the fuck are you?"

"My name is Amelia Wicke, and in light of the incompetence and malice of both Lusamine Mohn and Marcus Faba, I am currently the acting head of the Aether Foundation."

Incompetence and malice sounded about right for Faba, who in Guzma's opinion was a complete prick; but it wasn't quite the same for Lusamine. The things she was good at, she could be very good at; and she'd been pretty nice to him.

Well, okay, she hadn't been nice to him. Guzma knew he wasn't bright, but he wasn't a complete dumbass. She'd just been nice enough, and like a fool he'd fallen for it.

"'Kay," he said finally, still studying Wicke. "What do you want with me?"

"I need to know what happened to you in Ultra Space."

His heart turned to stone. "No," he said, and laid back to stare straight up at the ceiling.

"Mr. Mahelona—"

"Just Guzma," he interrupted her, still staring at the ceiling. "Mr. Mahelona is my asshat dad."

"Guzma, then," said Wicke. "It's important."

"No."

"G, don't be a fucking prick," hissed Plumes.

And it was this, for some reason, that made him snap.

"NO!" he bellowed, sitting bolt upright in bed; his entire chest protested by forcing a weak gasp out of his mouth, but he ignored it. Eric squeaked, jumping backwards. "I SAID I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING TALK ABOUT IT, OKAY? IT WAS BULLSHIT AND I WANTED TO GO BACK THE SECOND I GOT THERE AND IT WAS JUST A FUCKING TWO OR THREE WEEKS OR WHATEVER OF ABSOLUTE FUCKING BULLSHIT! I'M NOT FUCKING TALKING ABOUT IT!"

"Guzma," said Wicke. Her voice had gone very quiet. "I already know that it must have been difficult for you. Gladion, Lillie, and Moon have already told me about their experiences with Nihilego. I don't need to know how you felt, or the specifics of what the Nihilego made you do or say. I need to know what Lusamine did and said."

"NO!" he screamed. "I ALREADY SAID NO, FUCK YOU! I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT THAT— I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT HER TO YOU!"

"You can't tell me anything about her I don't already know!"

Wicke didn't have a naturally loud voice, but it was sharp and clear and it cut through the haze in his head.

"I already know who and what she is," she said, when he fell silent. "She is abusive, manipulative, and deluded. She drags other people into her own messes, which I inevitably am made to clean up. Guzma, I know."

"No, you fucking don't," he said, and the only reason it wasn't a shout was because his throat was beginning to burn. "You don't know shit."

"She was kind to you."

And now his eyes burned, with his throat.

"She told you that you were needed, that you were valued. She told you that you were important. That you were the only person who could help."

"F-fuck off."

"And then," she continued, relentlessly, "the second she didn't need you anymore— the very second she decided you couldn't help her with whatever it was she wanted, she turned it all around. She told you that you were worthless and stupid. She told you that you were nothing."

He could still hear the silvery, tinkling laughter in his mind. Could still hear that gratingly sweet voice.

Did you really think I had any use for you other than to keep me from getting hurt? Now that I know they won't hurt me, I don't need you anymore... but they do. They're hungry, and they can taste your fear.

You're nothing but food, Guzma. Just food.

He looked at Wicke, and he saw that she had tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Guzma," she said softly. "You shouldn't have had to go through that. I'm so sorry."

For a few moments he was confused. Why was she crying? Then he realized— he'd been talking out loud. He'd said what she had told him, out loud.

Plumes was staring at him, and the second their eyes met hers widened. "No," she said, shaking her head. "No, G, she didn't. She didn't say that."

Guzma swallowed and looked away. "Well, yeah," he mumbled. "That's— that's pretty much it. Fuckin' hellyfish didn't help, either."

"Hellyfish?" said Wicke, raising an eyebrow.

"Like jellyfish," he explained. "Except it's hell."

Wicke regarded him for a few moments. "Do you get along with Moon Hawkins?" she said. "That sounds like something she would say."

"She's all right."

"He thinks she's funny, but doesn't want to admit it," said Plumes.

Guzma rolled his eyes. "Sure, whatever," he muttered, lying back down.

For a few moments, Wicke didn't say anything. "All right," she said, after a few moments. "We're going to need to hold a briefing meeting shortly, but would you be willing to mention what happened to you? I wouldn't require any detail."

Guzma shrugged. "Sure, whatever." It was easier this way. It was easier to just— to let go. To not care.

If he didn't give a fuck, nothing would be able to hurt him.

* * * * * March 2nd * * * * *

With some time and perspective and most importantly therapy, Guzma decided that perhaps Ultra Space had not been the worst time in his life.

It was entirely possible that perhaps the worst time in his life was when fucking Van and his alter ego and a bunch of out-of-town assholes landed on Aether when he was taking a smoke break out in the garden. By the time he started to go running back, it was chaos and bullshit and he knew he couldn't get caught, because the kids were definitely going to get caught. A hundred teenagers couldn't all find perfect hiding spots.

God, he hoped they didn't get Al. The other kids would do okay, but Van had always been incredibly derisive of Al being, well, Al. Al hadn't changed his name or nothing, because apparently the name Almas was gender neutral, but used more commonly for girls (" 'cause it means diamond, and apparently only girls like sparkly pretty shit," said Al, rolling his eyes). But Van was an asshole about it, and therefore Guzma would be damned if Almas ever so much as sneezed in the same room as one of the Foxes who were always and forever going to misgender him, just because they goddamn could. Fucking assholes.

There was an added bonus, if Al stayed free: the kid was a dirty fighter. Even after a few months of what Jer and Moonie jokingly called "The Good Chemical Soup" (they'd had him on Plumes' health insurance for ages, but it hadn't covered much; and apparently Wicke had arranged for some under-the-table stuff, the kind where they were purposefully not talking to the kid's parents about it), he was still tiny as fuck for a boy, and he could climb people and cling like a Shellder, and he wasn't afraid to bite and scratch and hit the soft, squishy bits of someone's body.

Okay, Cassie might also have been an asset, being an entire-ass ninja and a mean shot and all that. But Al was pretty damn good, and he was quiet and sneaky. Guzma had a soft spot for Rogelio, but Al had given him another one because no kid learned to be that sneaky unless they had a reason. Al's birth family, by all accounts, were pretty goddamn good reasons.

He hoped that someone out there had not come to the fucking media conference, because being a one-man rescue team was not going to go all that well.

* * * * * (at some point after March 2nd) * * * * *

If he had ever, just once, thought to do a quick internet search on Team Rocket, he might have known that Van's creepy alter ego guy— who he'd thought was like a brother, maybe even a twin— was actually the one and only Giovanni. Because that? That was the kind of thing he'd actually have gone straight to Nanu for. That was some Interpol shit, and he could have just sat back and let the feds take care of everything and the Foxes might even have died out all by themselves.

Though before Moon had come to Po Town, back in November, it would probably have put Barbara in charge. Van was evil, and he was a mean sonuvabitch; but at least he had the decency to be direct about it. Barbara was all kinds of fucked up on a level that went back to Foxglove.

And now that he thought about it, he kind of owed Moon one, for getting rid of Barbara. (He knew it was Cassie who'd made the actual shot, but she never would have had the opportunity without Moon.) It had probably been a factor in Plumes being able to get all the kids out of Po Town alive.

* * * * * later on March 2nd * * * * *

He watched, enthralled, as Lysandre called a fucking legendary death bird out in the ballroom. He watched, horrified, as Moon Hawkins swallowed and took a step forward, her shaking hand going to her belt as her face settled into something hauntingly resolute. He watched, relieved, as the ceiling crashed open and three more legendaries and a little blur of smoke decisively ended the fight for both Yveltal and Lysandre.

He watched as Plumes herded all the kids out of the door. He watched as Rogelio and Raquel helped carry a nearly unconscious Molly, her face and shirt covered in dried blood.

He watched as Moon left the room, and then as she came back in to dig through the rubble in search of Lysandre.

And then he jumped, when someone began pounding at the sealed door of the audio-visual room with a sledgehammer.

"I think that's our rescue," said Molayne, though his hand went to his belt automatically.

"I should get Rotom back to Moon," said little Soph, nervously glancing at Guzma.

"Kid," said Guzma.

Molayne looked at him sharply, then relaxed.

"U-u-um— yes, sir?"

Guzma eyed him for a few moments, amused. "I'm not gonna bite your head off, kid," he said. "Al likes you, okay? Be good to him. He's been through a lot of shit."

"I know, sir," murmured little Soph. "I'll—" He took a deep breath, and stood a little straighter. "I'll take care of him."

"Let him take care of you, too." Both Molayne's and Soph's eyebrows rose at that, and Guzma explained. "He's a fantastic kid, but he's not innocent, not after the shit he's been through. You're still a sweet kid, so let him keep you sweet."

"Awww," cooed Molayne. "You have a heart in there after all, Guzma."

"You can fuck right off. You and Maleko, you're both interfering busybody know-it-alls. Him, I like." He indicated Sophocles. "You, I don't."

"I haven't actually spoken to you in ten years," said Molayne, tilting his head to one side. "I tried calling, but the number never worked after... after everything happened."

Guzma grunted. "Got a new phone."

"Well, then I can't very well be told I'm a busybody, am I? I haven't been able to contact you." Molayne winked at him, then turned and stood just as the door finally crashed open; it was Plumes, wielding the sledgehammer. She had a slender red scratch on her face and murder in her eyes. "Oh good, rescuers! I'm so glad to see you."

Plumes dropped the sledgehammer, marched into the room, and climbed onto Guzma's chair— she was warm and strong and angry and god, he loved her so much it hurt.

"Okay!" shouted someone behind them, after a few seconds; the panicked tone told him it was Jeremiah— who was a fucking hypocrite, because he could PDA with Ki-moon all the day long but apparently freaked out if a guy's hand so much as ventured near his girl's ass. "They're, uh, they're busy, let's leave them alone. Come on, Mr. Molayne, you too."

When Plumes finally let him surface for air, he just looked at her for a few moments.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there this time either," he said.

"Don't be stupid," snorted Plumes, "He said he would have killed you if you were there. And then you went on over the fucking karaoke system and I—"

Her breath caught, on something like a hiccup; and her eyes were suspiciously damp.

"It just hit me," she said quietly. "It just hit me, all of a sudden."

"What did?"

"H-how much you love them."

Guzma stared at her, baffled. "Of course I do, Plumes, what do you take me for? I'm not a complete asshole."

"That song is a goddamn lullabye that a father sings to his kids!" she wailed, and Guzma froze. "I didn't know shit about musical theater, until Molly was saying so when we were coming to get you. She's been high off painkillers ever since we got out but she said that song was a lullabye, and Cass and Jer backed her up, and you are their fucking father!"

She buried her head in his shoulder and shook, and he held her and let her cry, because Plumes almost never cried.

"So much for big brother and big sister, then," he said finally. "Who's the oldest of the kids?"

"Oldest in age, or who's been around longest?"

"Either."

"Uh— you know what, G?"

"What?"

"I can't fucking remember."

"Oh." He considered this. "I think they call that mom brain."

They looked at each other for a few moments— and then Guzma felt his mouth twitch, and then they were both laughing. Plumes was kind of sob-laughing, in a so-tired-that-everything-hurts-and-is-also-hilarious kind of way.

"I can't believe the goddamn fucking nerve of Moon Hawkins," he said finally. "Musical theater, Arceus fucking hell."

"It's Moon. Are you really surprised?"

"Not in the goddamn slightest, but it shouldn't have worked."

Plumeria's mouth quirked. "Some people are just born under a lucky star, I guess."

"Yeah," mumured Guzma. "Something like that."

* * * * * sometime in March— or perhaps April * * * * *

Sometimes, he couldn't sleep because of nightmares. Those didn't happen as often, because of the therapist that turned out to be a much better idea than he'd thought it would be.

But sometimes, he couldn't sleep because of the therapist, and her fucking questions. Sometimes he laid awake in bed with Plumes curled up to his side the way she always did, and he stared at the ceiling into the navy gloom of night and thought about what Dr. Campbell said to him.

What will you do, after all is said and done? What will you do once the Foxes are gone?

He thought, after a while, that maybe he'd gone to sleep; but then there was a whisper in his ear. It wasn't like the creepy little Ultra Space hellyfish, and it wasn't like that chirpy fucking Lunala or the black crystal alien or even Tapu Bulu, who he'd heard speak once on a day of nightmares. No, this voice was different: soft, but amused. Knowing.

You will survive, it told him. And not only that, you will thrive.

He wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe it, so goddamn bad.

* * * * *

Chapter Text

* * * * * mid-January * * * * *

The shrink's name was Dr. Walsh, and she was a little old lady. Plumeria eyed her dubiously, but this was what Amelia wanted.

G slouched on the sofa, arms crossed over his chest. He didn't seem uncomfortable yet, but Plumeria was beginning to be.

"All right," said Dr. Walsh, after a few more scrawls on the clipboard. "I was just writing down my initial observations and impressions."

Plumeria raised an eyebrow at her. "Care to share with the class?"

Dr. Walsh merely smiled. "I don't think that would be beneficial for either of you at this time. I'd like to ask you both some questions."

"Sure, go ahead." Plumeria waved one hand at her.

"How long have you been together?"

"About five and a half years."

She nodded, writing something down. "What are your jobs?"

"From a legal point of view, we're both unemployed. But I'm a certified freelance tattoo artist and piercer, and we're also basically full-time foster parents."

Another nod. "And from a less legal point of view?"

"You're not allowed to snitch, right?" said G abruptly.

"No, I am not. Ms. Wicke pays me very well not to snitch."

"I'm a gang leader, a drug runner, and a weapons dealer."

"Former," corrected Plumeria. "To the second two, anyway."

"Yeah, former."

Dr. Walsh nodded a third time, but Plumeria noticed she didn't write that down; good. Paper trails sucked major ass, and she didn't want to bust into this lady's office to remove them. "That's good to know. Why are you here today?"

"Because Wicke told us we had to be," said G, glaring out of the window.

Dr. Walsh raised one eyebrow at him, then looked at Plumeria. "Would you agree with that?"

"More or less."

"Why do you think she told you you had to be here?"

"Because we got into a screaming match in front of the kids."

"Which kids?"

G looked at her as though she were stupid. "All of them."

"For a minute," said Dr. Walsh, "let's assume that I know literally nothing about you. How many kids?"

"A little less than a hundred," said Plumeria. "They're Team Skull. They're our kids."

"Oh, I see." She wrote something else down. "Why do you call them your kids?"

"They're ours," said Plumeria. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable. "We take care of them. We feed them, we give them a place to stay."

"Currently," pointed out Dr. Walsh, "the care, feeding and shelter of these children is being provided by the Aether Foundation. Does that mean that they belong to the Aether Foundation?"

"Fuck, no," said G.

"Then what makes them belong to you?"

Plumeria sighed. "We love them," she said irritably. "We both had fucked-up pasts and we have a soft spot for kids who grew up like us."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you have a soft spot for kids who grew up like you?"

"Because it was shitty!" snapped G, sitting upright. "Arceus fuck, lady, you ask the dumbest questions!"

She cocked her head. "Why does it matter to you whether they have a bad experience growing up?"

"Because nobody should have to live like that, it's bullshit! Kids deserve parents who love them and don't fuck up and don't beat them with fucking golf clubs!"

G had stood up, and he was breathing hard. Plumeria reached up and snagged his wrist, pulling lightly; he sat down and folded into himself again.

Dr. Walsh watched them, with sharp, curious eyes. "Guzma," she said softly.

"What?" he snarled.

"Do you believe you are a good person?"

It was as though time had stopped. G stared at her, his mouth falling open; he turned to look at Plumeria, eyes begging for help.

"No." It was the first time Dr. Walsh's voice had risen, and it was only very slight. "I addressed that question to you, Guzma. Plumeria should not have to answer questions that I ask you. That isn't fair to her. Guzma, do you believe you are a good person?"

"God, no," he mumbled.

"But taking care of those children is a good thing to do. Do you understand that?"

He shrugged, looking away. "'S better than nothing," he mumbled.

For a few moments, Dr. Walsh didn't say anything; but then she turned to Plumeria.

"Plumeria," she said steadily. "Do you believe you are a good person?"

"I'm a much, much fucking worse person than he is."

G lifted his head, frowning at her. "Bullshit."

"You'll have the chance to address that later, Guzma. Please don't interrupt right now." Dr. Walsh studied Plumeria for a few moments. "Plumeria, do you believe Guzma is a good person?"

"I don't think he's a nice person," said Plumeria, allowing herself a snort. "But yeah, I do think he's a good person."

G's jaw dropped, and his eyes grew round.

"Why do you think he is a good person?"

Plumeria sighed. "You're really gonna make me do this in front of him, huh," she murmured.

"I think he probably deserves to know this."

Yeah, okay. That was fair.

"G..." Plumeria took a breath, looking down at her lap. "G cares. He could look at a teenager who ran away from home and say, well, fuck, it sucks to be you but that isn't my problem. But he doesn't. He isn't nice, and he's not going to sugar-coat anything, but he would give the shirt off his back to someone who needed it."

She paused, looking at Dr. Walsh; but the woman merely smiled. "Keep going."

"G's willing to learn," said Plumeria. "Like, a few years back, we had this kid come in with a Pokémon that didn't have a gender. But the kid insisted the Pokémon was a girl. I already knew about using the right pronouns and shit, because one of my friends growing up was trans."

"Becky, right?" said G.

"Yeah, Becky. Really nice girl. She got the fuck out of Po Town, she's married, they've got a Rockruff, and they're adopting twins. But that's not the point. G didn't get it at first. He looked at this kid's Pokémon and he was like, it doesn't have a gender, but sure if you want me to pretend it's a girl I can do that. And it wasn't super important to him because it's a Pokémon. But then, about... oh, ten months ago, now? We had three kids come in, and at first we thought, two boys and a girl. But the one we thought was a girl, he said, no, I'm a boy. I've got a vagina, but I'm a boy. And I ran away because my mom was going to try and beat it out of me, and the last time she tried that she nearly killed me so I ran away, and if you try to say I'm a girl I'll run away from you too. And I already got that, so I said, 'sure, you're obviously a boy, welcome to Team Skull.' This one—" She jerked her thumb at G. "He didn't get it. He was confused. But he saw how freaked out and uncomfortable Al got when anybody treated him like a girl, or used the wrong pronouns. So he started doing research, all on his own. I had no idea he was doing it until he called a meeting about a month after that and told everyone that Al was a boy, and anybody who implied otherwise was going to be in huge trouble and get huge amounts of chores and scut work. So he didn't understand it at first, and he made some mistakes, but then he realized he was wrong and he decided he had to fix it, and he did his research and made it clear that he would back Al up. And that really meant a lot to Al."

G had gone steadily redder and redder through her entire speech, and at this he reached up and yanked his hood up over his head. "It was nothin'," he mumbled, staring at his lap. "Least I could've done. Just— just wanted him to stop flinching whenever I walked by. Even I know that's fucked up."

Dr. Walsh smiled. "Guzma," she said steadily, "do you understand that very few people would have done what you did, in that scenario?"

"Obviously, because people are fuckin' twats."

Plumeria glared at him. "Gendered language."

"That certainly isn't the phrasing I would use," Dr. Walsh said delicately, "but it's true that many people are unwilling to admit to their mistakes and try to change. So, let me ask you the same question. Do you think Plumeria is a good person?"

"Plumes is the best person I know," said G, and Plumeria turned to stare at him incredulously but his face was— god, he was actually serious?

What the fuck.

"Why do you think she is a good person?"

"She's more patient than me," said G. "I'm not real easy for the kids to live with. Especially the Skulls, because most of them are just as fucked in the head as we are. Some of them are more fucked in the head than us. I'm a rude-ass loudmouth with a bad temper. The kids know they should talk to Plumes when they need stuff, because she'll make sure they get it. I just get annoyed and tell them to go away. And she's smarter than me, too. You heard all that stuff she said about gender and shit. I still don't really get it, but if Al says he's a boy then he's a boy, and I don't want any of the other kids to fuckin' fight about it. There's more important shit to worry about. And Plumes takes care of a lot of that important shit. She does all the taxes. She has health insurance, and she puts the high risk kids on her health insurance so she can get them what they need. We have to pay an assload in premiums or whatever, but she never complains. Money gets pretty tight, but she just makes do with what we have and makes sure that none of the kids know when we're badly off."

Plumeria swallowed. She hadn't cried since after she'd blown up at G the other day, and even then she'd made herself hold it back until she could get somewhere by herself; but she could feel a lump rising in her throat, and something stinging in her eyes.

"Why," said Dr. Walsh softly, "do you think that neither of you knew these things that you thought about each other?"

Honestly, it was a really good question. Plumeria shrugged. "Well, we didn't say it until just now."

"And why is that?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but found that there wasn't really a good reason.

"I'm not good at talking about shit like that," said G. "You know— emotional shit." His lip curled slightly, and Plumeria could tell he wanted to say something a little more demeaning about it.

"It's perfectly normal, especially for men, to feel a little uncomfortable when discussing emotions— especially strong emotions relating to one's partner," Dr. Walsh assured him. "But frankly, Guzma, you're already doing better than about seventy-five percent of the men who come in here. Most of them can't even acknowledge that they are uncomfortable talking about their emotions. It is largely not their fault— men are generally conditioned to believe that talking about emotions is unmanly, or that it makes them weak. You may have some of the same hang-ups, even if you don't realize it."

G nodded stiffly. "I see another shrink," he said curtly. "On my own. Wicke made me after I came back from— uh, from some really weird shit, that I went through. Also on my own."

"Amelia gave me Dr. Campbell's contact information," said Dr. Walsh mildly, and G relaxed marginally. "If you think it would be beneficial for us to compare notes, we can do that; but it is up to you, as you are our patient and you have final say."

"Um— you can do that. If it makes things easier. I don't really give a fuck." G cleared his throat. "Um, anyway, my point is, I already know some shit. About men and emotions and whatever, because I talked about it with Dr. C. My dad kind of fucked me up, is the short story. But I'm working on it."

Dr. Walsh nodded, and her eyes flicked to Plumeria. "What about you, Plumeria? Would you say that you have difficulty discussing emotions?"

"Kind of, yeah," muttered Plumeria.

"Do you see a therapist?"

"Don't really have the time."

"I can't make you do anything, of course." Dr. Walsh's voice was gentle. "But I recommend that you begin searching for one. When a relationship is having problems, it's best to ensure that both parties are having their psychological health needs met."

"Why?" said Plumeria caustically. "G's seeing someone for his shit, and it helps, but we've still got problems. So we're here."

Dr. Walsh raised an eyebrow. "Do you think you are exempt from having personal issues?"

"No, but I don't have any like that."

G snorted.

"Shut up," snapped Plumeria.

"Please don't speak that way to him," said Dr. Walsh, frowning. "And Guzma, that was unnecessary." She took a deep breath. "Plumeria, think back to the point in time when Guzma's primary work was illegal. Was the division of labor such that you were solely in charge of caring for the rest of Team Skull, and Guzma was solely in charge of the drugs and weapons?"

"No. As a matter of fact, I took care of drugs and weapons nearly as often as he did. A lot of the care you can delegate, right? They're teenagers or they're in their early twenties, and they didn't need us to wipe their asses or make them food. But sometimes they needed help with other shit, and both of us did that too."

"Amelia suggested," said Dr. Walsh, nodding, "that the division of labor between the two of you was mostly fair, though in the way of most heterosexual relationships the emotional labor skewed toward Plumeria and the physical labor skewed toward Guzma."

"Why was she telling you about us?"

"She didn't say much, but I can read between the lines. Were either of us wrong?"

Plumeria scowled. "No."

"There you go. Plumeria, how often did you engage in the riskier activities of Guzma's employment?"

"Like doing a drug run or moving weapons?" Plumeria considered. "Um— pretty often. Usually we'd send one of the tougher kids, because G and I are both known outside Po Town and most of the Skulls aren't recognizable out of uniform. But if it was delicate, it was about a fifty-fifty split between the two of us. Maybe like, fifty-five forty-five."

"How often did the riskier activities involve physical altercations or violence?"

"Pretty often." That was just life, when you worked with a bunch of nutjobs like the Foxes.

"How did those physical altercations or violence make you feel?"

"Well, it wasn't exactly a fucking picnic," said Plumeria, instantly irritated by the question.

"Do you think about them often?"

"I try not to."

"Does trying not to think about these incidents affect your everyday life?"

A lump rose to Plumeria's throat. "U-um," she managed, and winced when her voice cracked. "I mean, I guess. A little."

"That is what therapy is for," said Dr. Walsh softly. "When your emotions, emotional responses, or memories are getting in the way of being able to live your life, it is perfectly natural to see a therapist to get those things sorted out. Plumeria, I would be very surprised if you did not benefit by seeing a therapist. And I think that both you and Guzma will find it easier to do what I ask of you in this room, if you are also seeing private therapists."

* * * * * January 31st * * * * *

COURT TRANSCRIPT: ALOLA v. MAHELONA

PLAINTIFF: ALOLA DEPT. OF STATE v. DEFENDANT: GUZMA MAHELONA

The above-entitled matter came on for oral argument before Alolan Justice Ekewaka C. Kekoa at 10:00 am on January 31, 20XX.

APPEARANCES:

Mitchell D. Braxton, Esq, District Attorney, Alola Department of Justice, Hau'oli City, on behalf of the plaintiff(s);

Amelia E. Wicke, Aether Paradise, on behalf of the defendant;

PROCEEDINGS:

reported by Ian Diarmuth, court reporter

Justice Kekoa: At this time the court calls Alola v. Mahelona. Will the parties state their appearance for the record, please.

Attorney Braxton: Good morning, your Honor. The Alola Department of State is represented by myself, Hau'oli City District Attorney Mitchell Braxton.

Attorney Wicke: Good morning, your Honor. Guzma Mahelona appears in person. He is represented by myself— Amelia Wicke, private attorney.

Justice Kekoa: Very good. Are there any issues to be presented before the jurors are brought in?

Attorney Wicke: I have one issue with the language of the opening instructions, your Honor. This trial is of course for the crimes that Mr. Mahelona has personally committed, but I wish to request an allowance of the phrase, "committed X crime at the behest of another," in place of "committed X crime."

Justice Kekoa: I see. And the reason for this change in language?

Attorney Wicke: Mr. Mahelona has largely been coerced into the crimes he committed. There is no mistake: he has committed crimes. He admits as much himself. But committing a crime because of blackmail, extortion, or coersion is different from committing a crime out of sheer malice.

Attorney Braxton: He still committed the crimes. Why should we alter the language to prevaricate about that?

Attorney Wicke: It isn't prevarication, it's clarification. Mr. Mahelona would not have committed the vast majority of his crimes if he had not been coerced into doing so, and that should be made clear to the jurors and all witnesses to this trial.

Justice Kekoa: The court acknowledges Mr. Mahelona's coersion, and accepts the change to the opening instructions. In lieu of "committed X crime," the opening instructions will read, "committed X crime at the behest of another. Are there any further issues?

Attorney Braxton: No, your Honor.

Attorney Wicke: No, your Honor.

Justice Kekoa. Very good. Please send in the jury.

Plumeria rolled her eyes at Braxton's whiny tone, but the man was just doing his job. It probably had to suck major balls to go up in court against Wicke.

She was present mostly because G had asked her to be, but Wicke had also asked her to testify, if necessary. And there was a small part of her that was present because Wicke had gotten G fitted for a suit for court and Plumeria had a vested interest in seeing it in action. It was a nice suit— super dark gray, with faint pinstripes. Light gray tie, to match his eyes. And the pants were tailored too, which meant that every time people had to stand up or sit down, she got to check out her boyfriend's ass.

G knew, of course; he shot her a brief, nervous smile as he sat back down once the jury had settled in.

The main point of the trial was that Wicke was trying to put legal ramifications off until after the Foxes were taken care of. It would be a lot easier, and safer, to sort out what was Guzma's fault and what could be lain at the feet of the Foxes once there wasn't any risk of revenge. The problem was that the Alolan government was kind of offended at the insinuation that the Foxes were doing shit that broke their agreement, which they'd never done before— except they had, they just hadn't been caught. G wasn't narcing so much as he was trying to get out of the thing as unfucked as he possibly could; but the feds didn't like being wrong and they wanted an easy scapegoat.

Plumeria loved G, but he made a very damn easy scapegoat.

It kind of dragged on at the beginning. G had sort of tried to write everything down, kind of lay out a timeline of the last eight years or so; but there were some factors that made timelining kind of difficult— namely, G's dyslexia, which made it hard to write things down at all; and there were some memory issues due to both physical trauma (getting hit in the head with a five-iron by your dad would probably shake a few things loose) and G's pre-therapy coping mechanisms, booze and weed.

There were also some issues with the facts that Plumeria was still going to be counted as a biased witness, no matter how Wicke introduced her. A few of the Skulls were around— only adults, because juvenile witnesses were a whole complex ball game that nobody wanted to play, except maybe that asshole Braxton. Cassie, Molly, and Raquel were sitting with Plumeria, and Gladion was in the row behind them. He'd asked them not to tell Moon that he was here today, and they'd agreed.

But Skulls would also be biased witnesses. In fact, the only person who probably wouldn't be a biased witness was that bitch, Lusamine. Plumeria didn't like the word bitch because it pejoratized femininity, but after hearing about what she suspected was just the tip of the iceberg when Lillie and Gladion were talking about some of the shit their mom put them through in Ultra Space, she couldn't really help but agree that it was really the only word to describe her.

Though Guzma, in a very bitter mood one night, had said, "She's actually much worse than a bitch, but she ain't warm enough or deep enough to be a cu—"

"Finish that and I'll knee you in the balls."

So— perhaps there was a better word, but Plumeria wasn't about to go there.

Braxton was finishing his opening statement, which was pretty much a bunch of bullshit about how Alola deserved to have justice, and letting Guzma go unpunished for even a second longer was the moral equivalent of throwing a Pichu in a blender, or something. Wicke looked slightly irritated, and glancing back at Gladion showed him to be staring at Braxton as though he'd just pulled off his pants and shit on the courtroom floor.

"The nerve of this goddamn man," said Raquel under her breath. "He's dumber than Emmett, and that's saying something."

"Right now, that feels like an insult to Emmett," said Cassie quietly, and— right, yes. Emmett and Jack were currently sort of off-limits as jokes, given what had happened to them over the weekend.

Given what had happened to Kohaku, over the weekend.

It wasn't the first death in Team Skull, not by a long shot. There had been ten deaths, and she remembered every one. Mostly because they were all stupid deaths. The kids were young and they were not all right, as the saying went (or rather didn't); and they deserved better than abusive families or school bullies or drugs or mental health issues or whatever the fuck had driven them to self-destruct so spectacularly. And that death count included one who had died at her own hands.

She and Guzma tried, but they could only do so much. There were only so many kids who could be saved. Who would let themselves be saved.

"Ms. Wicke, you have the floor for your opening statement," said the judge, recalling Plumeria's attention.

Wicke stood, turning to face the jury. "The issue upon which you decide, jurors of Alola, is not whether Guzma Mahelona is to be held accountable for the crimes he has committed," she said clearly. "The question is this: who is responsible for these crimes? Yes, someone must atone. That is clear, and that is just. But consider, if you will, the circumstances surrounding the crimes committed. Mr. Mahelona was a young Trainer— still on his island challenge, even. He spent a few years in his youth as part of an organization that used to be held in great esteem— an organization that did many good things for Alola. Suddenly, the man who was in charge of that organization was revealed to be a criminal, and a blasphemer. Suddenly, Mr. Mahelona's life changed. Suddenly, the island challenge wasn't quite as important as the other children, teenagers and young Trainers of that organization. He saw that they, like himself, were beginning to falter. Where should they turn, now that it is shown that their leader was not worthy of their trust? What should they do? Young minds are impressionable, and despite Foxglove's death the Foxes remained at large, ready and willing to induct teenage members.

"In that situation— Mr. Mahelona, a young Trainer like any other, took on a burden. A burden that was unnecessary, a burden that was selfless— a burden that was kind. He stepped into place between those children and the Foxes. He was the shield that prevented evil from touching them. He didn't wholly succeed, because he was only one young person against many older, more charismatic, more wicked people. But for the most part— he provided the marginalized youth of Alola with somewhere safe. He faced the ugliness, and the evil, so that other youth could take steps away from it in safety.

"Mr. Braxton wishes to see Guzma Mahelona suffer, because he chose to give up an island challenge to protect children from the Foxes. That isn't how Mr. Braxton would phrase it, of course; and there is no denying that in shielding the youth of Alola, Mr. Mahelona did some reprehensible things. And Mr. Mahelona himself has agreed that he should make recompense to Alola for those things.

"Jurors of Alola, what I ask you to consider is this: the Foxes are still at large. There are children in Po Town even now, children who have been fooled into believing they are safer with some of the worst criminals that mankind has to offer. They know Guzma Mahelona, and they know he does not mean them harm. They cannot say the same of either the Foxes, or of officers of the law. If Mr. Mahelona goes to prison now, he cannot shield those children from further evil. But if his sentence is delayed— if he is permitted to wait for some time— then those children have a chance. Team Skull, whose names have been maligned these ten years thanks to the actions of Foxglove, will have the chance to show us who they truly are.

"I have lived in the same house as the vast majority of Team Skull, as well as Guzma Mahelona, for just under two months. By now, I understand these children. They are loud and rebellious, yes; but you might equally say that they chafe under excessive rules and abusive authorities. They are bright and cheerful and colorful; they are artists, musicians, dancers, singers, and creators. They are children who could not find a way to carry on in their own homes, and so fled to find a place of refuge and acceptance. Team Skull, you see, does not discriminate. Anyone over the age of fifteen or so who seeks sanctuary amongst the Skulls is granted it. A fifteen-year-old is old enough to know when their living situation is untenable.

"Without Guzma Mahelona, the energy of these children is driven to far, far worse places. Yes, a few of them have committed minor crimes; and yes, it is fairly annoying to have to clean up graffiti in public areas. But consider this: without Guzma Mahelona, they could have been doing so much worse. Here is a publicly available statistic: of the three hundred and forty-seven juvenile offenses on record in Alola over the last year, only thirty-one of them are known to be committed by members of Team Skull or by anyone affiliated with Team Skull. That's less than ten percent."

"I ask you, jurors of Alola, not to say that Guzma Mahelona should not be punished for the wrongs he has committed at all. I ask you to say— not yet. Not until the Foxes are no longer a threat to the children of Alola."

* * * * * later, that same day * * * * *

chat: g&p

g: for a damn minute there i thought they were gonna send me to the clink

p: I had faith in you

g: you had faith in my ass in this goddamn monkey suit.

p: To be fair, it's a pretty nice ass

g: dont sext me until were both at home

g: were both in a small boat with wicke n the kids

g: cant do anything about it

p: Maybe that's the point

g: goddamnit

g: why are you so

p: Did you send the message before you finished writing it

g: no

g: i just dont have the fuckin words for you sometimes, woman

p: In a good way or a bad way?

g: yes

p: Why are you the worst

g: you like it

p: Yeah, I really fucking do.

* * * * * March 2nd * * * * *

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

The soft padding of Lysandre's shoes (expensive, designer) as he paced around the kids was maddening.

Plumeria remained still and quiet. She watched the kids, because some of them needed watching. Jer and Moonie, for instance— they were both twitchy, not in the least because they'd gotten Al out into the vents and had been subsequently punished for it. Jer had a bruise on his cheekbone, and red eyes that indicated tears; Moonie's expression was blankly sullen, and his lip was ever so slightly puffy.

A few of the others had mouthed off, too. Raquel had given lip and been slapped; so had Rogelio. But Molly was the worst by far. Her nose had been broken, and she'd been steadily and slowly dripping blood for what had to be nearly three hours at this point. She was beginning to get a little pale.

Plumeria slowly raised her hand, ignoring the multiple guns that turned to point at her the second she moved.

"What do you want," said Lysandre, without looking at her.

"Can I offer some medical advice to one of my kids without getting fucking shot?" said Plumeria tartly.

He turned to look at her, brows raised. "And what advice is that?"

"Molly."

Molly looked up, eyes red. Her mouth and nose and shirt were a fucking mess; she had to be miserable right now. "Yeah?"

"Tilt your head back," said Plumeria quietly. "Maybe lie down, if you're getting dizzy."

She took a deep breath, and tears filled her eyes. "It hurts," she whispered.

Rage and pain swelled, but Plumeria forced them down and turned to look at Lysandre. "Can I help her?"

His eyes narrowed. "I don't trust you not to try something."

Plumeria gritted her teeth. "The only thing I'm going to try," she said, making a Herculean effort to keep the anger out of her voice, "is to make her goddamn broken nose stop bleeding."

"It will stop on its own eventually."

"When she faints of blood loss, sure! Look at her fucking shirt!"

Lysandre offered Molly a disdainful glance. "No," he said, and turned away.

"Please." The word burst from her lips, bitter as brine. "Please— I just want to help her. Nothing more."

There was a long pause. Lysandre hadn't started walking again, which was a good sign.

"Fine. You will have guns on you the entire time. Don't try anything stupid."

Plumeria crawled over to Molly, cradling the back of her head. Molly flinched away, a sob ripping from her mouth. "Hey, now. Hey, shhh. You've gotta be strong for me, okay?"

"It hurts," she said again. A fat tear rolled down her cheek. "Plumeria, it hurts so bad."

Something ugly and enraged stirred within her. This, she decided, was the real reason that G was a better person than her. G got mad, and then he got over it. He was loud and scary, sure; but he blew it off pretty damn quick.

But Plumeria held onto rage. It grew cold and vile, creeping through her veins. The grudges she bore lasted years, sometimes.

"I can't make it feel better," said Plumeria softly. "But here— lie down, okay? On your side— if you fall asleep, I don't want you to choke on your own blood."

She carefully helped Molly curl into a ball. "Here, you can just face Rogelio and the kids, okay? You can see them from here, and they can see you. You're gonna be okay, kid. I've got you. I won't let anything bad happen to you."

It was a little grody, but she took off her jacket and began carefully cleaning up blood, dabbing at Molly's chin and neck. Molly whimpered every time her nose was jostled, and Plumeria apologized every time.

"That's enough," said Lysandre, after a few minutes of this. "Back to where you were."

Plumeria turned and looked him directly in the eye. There was nothing in his eyes— just cold, blank emptiness.

"J'espère que tu meurs," she said, in the language they both shared. Her Kalosian was rusty, but she knew enough to get by.

His mouth curled up ever so slightly. "Je me fiche de ce que vous espérez."

"Je vais rire de vos funérailles et danser sur votre tombe."

He merely rolled his eyes, turned around, and kept walking. A hand motion had the guards nudging her back to the spot where she had been directed to sit.

This was a man who was, perhaps, nearly evil enough to rival Van. Nobody could quite come close to Van; nobody else in the world took the same sort of pleasure, in power and control. Nobody else thought it was funny to break people.

But Lysandre— he didn't take pleasure in power. He simply had standards that were so high that nobody living could attain them; and if you couldn't attain his standards, he didn't give a fuck about you. He cared about as much for human or Pokémon life as Plumeria cared about any random stranger on a given day— a measurement that was not truly definable beyond "less than zero."

And when this man died— yes, when he died, because at this point she knew that if nobody else managed it, she would certainly be there to finish the job— she would, in fact, laugh at his funeral and dance on his grave.

Hell, she would breakdance on his grave. Here lies Lysandre, the biggest fucking dick in the known universe; and she wasn't that great at b-boying but for this man, she would fucking do it. Because fuck him. Fuck him to the ends of the earth and back. Fuck him to fucking Ultra Space, and knowing what that did to G meant that it was not something she wished lightly upon anyone.

* * * * * early-mid March * * * * *

She decided, after the fact, that Moon had managed the thing pretty damn well for a newly-minted Champion. There wasn't much of Lysandre left to bury, and Wicke was more inclined to have him cremated anyway; but Plumeria requested, and received, the urn of ashes in a plain black vase. She borrowed a boombox from Jeremiah, a CD of hip-hop in a language she didn't know from Moonie, and a lighter from G.

And then she took those things outside, to the open courtyard space in front of the mansion; and she set the urn down on top of the boombox, blasted the fucking music, and danced on the concrete until her hands and feet ached.

Because fuck that guy, for making her kids suffer. She hoped, wherever he was, that he was suffering a hundred times worse.

He is.

Plumeria stiffened, looking around; but there was nobody there.

A chill ran, slow and steady, up her spine.

She had heard that voice before.

* * * * *

Chapter Text

For a few moments they all simply stood there, beaming at each other and the Rotom cameras; but then there was a loud beeping noise, and a voice sounded over a crackling loudspeaker: "Okay, we've cut to the ads!"

Kahili was the first one to go, the smile sliding off her face before she'd even quite turned around. Olivia was smiling at the rest of them, but it was the shadows under her eyes that drove Moon to make a decision.

"Okay," she said, turning to Professor Kukui. "Um, do we know about any other challengers today?"

"There's nobody in town, but you're allowed to close the League whenever you need to, yeah."

Moon frowned. "What about the live feed?"

"They've recorded everything, so they can play reruns."

"I can watch reruns of myself?"

"If you want, yeah," said Professor Kukui, grinning. "I've done it before. Pretty useful way to study and improve, yeah! Kahili does it all the time."

"Okay, speaking of Kahili—"

"Give her your publicist's number," said Professor Kukui, and he looked a little rueful. "She might need a little time to get used to you, yeah? And she'll appreciate not having to arrange things for you personally."

"I don't have her number."

"I'll send it to you," volunteered Molayne.

Moon eyed him. "I'm telling her you gave it to me."

"Yes, yes, I'm the meat shield. I know what I signed up for."

They all made their way out of the Champion's Chamber and down to the main lobby. Several people had entered, none of them familiar; Moon was quickly introduced to the main Alolan League production staff.

Vivian was the receptionist, greeting challengers at the front desk. Purnima and Sascha were the League's legal team, taking care of lawsuits and contracts and that sort of thing. Taskill headed up the custodial and maintenance teams. And there were three producers: executive producer Estefania, visual and video producer Ha-jun and audio producer Kichiro.

Once introductions had been made, Professor Kukui turned to Moon with a grin. "So what are your orders, Champion?"

"Um, let's close for the rest of today and do the thing where you run old battles and so on?"

He nodded, and the production staff vanished to make it happen. It went remarkably quickly— people bustled around them, and in a matter of minutes the lights began dimming, and Taskill led a team of Grimer and Muk out to clean.

Moon, Hau, Professor Kukui, and the remaining three of the Elite Four made their way outside. It was a strange feeling, being part of this.

She had just put on her jacket when someone called her name. Moon turned, surprised, to see Kahili walking back toward them.

"Yes?"

"I've made some calls. Obviously, you will need to be present at the League fairly constantly for... oh, the first month, at least? But you are also obligated to make some media appearances."

"Okay, cool. Um, let me give you my publicist's number."

Kahili blinked at her. "Your... publicist?"

"Yeah." Moon pulled out Rotom and found Caroline's contact information before flipping it around to show Kahili the screen. "I have like, zero idea what I'm doing, so I hired a publicist."

Kahili's face twitched with something like annoyance— which was not very promising, thought Moon, slightly dismayed. "Fine," she said evenly, pulling out her own Dex. "I will also need your contact information."

"Yeah, that's cool too. Rotom?"

"Sharing your contact information... and sharing contact Caroline Palmer. Done, bzzt."

"Thanks, buddy."

Kahili's phone buzzed, and she eyed Rotom for a few moments. "Useful," she commented. "Shall I arrange your schedule with her, then?"

"I mean, I'm here right now, so you tell me what you have lined up and I'll let her know. And then from there on you guys can like, coordinate."

"It would be simpler if I did everything." Kahili's voice was slightly stiff.

"Sure, but don't I have to do media stuff that's like, independent of the League?"

"You do."

"Well, you're already taking on a lot of work, and I'm really grateful about it, so I thought that Caroline could take care of stuff that's just for me and you can still be in charge of all the League stuff."

Kahili regarded her for a few more moments. "I would still prefer to have been consulted prior," she said, after a few moments. "And I will supervise everything to begin with, to ensure we're all on the same page. But I appreciate your motive." There was a noticeable pause, and then, almost through clenched teeth: "Thank you."

"You're welcome," said Moon immediately, hoping that good manners would soften the other woman up. "Now, what do you need me to do?"

"You will be appearing on Good Morning, Alola tomorrow, and as such you will need to be at their studio in Hau'oli City by five a.m. to prepare for filming. You will be finished by seven-thirty, and the League opens at nine so you'll need to go straight there. The League needs to be open at least five days per week, preferably six. The maximum workday is twelve hours."

"Yeah, let's not do twelve-hour days," said Moon, shaking her head. "That's a bit too much even for me, and I like Pokémon battles. I think a six-hour day is more than reasonable, because most people who get to..." She paused, glancing down at the little town that had popped up around the Pokémon Center and the helicopter pad. "What's this place called?"

"We've just been calling it League Town, but you could name it something else if you wanted, yeah," chuckled Professor Kukui.

Moon glanced at Kahili, who was staring daggers at the Professor. "If it involves like, actually changing things legally, then I'm not going to bother. League Town is fine. Anyway, most people who get to League Town don't want to challenge the League on the same day they arrived, so closing down by three means that the mornings will usually be full, right?"

"Correct," said Kahili, turning back to Moon and resuming an expression of neutrality. "I would have recommended an eight-hour day, but you are the Champion."

"If we have scheduling issues, we can expand our hours. Until then, let's not worry about it. Were there any other appearances I need to do?"

"Yes." Kahili opened her phone. "We will be holding a press conference here when the League closes tomorrow. I will update everyone who's been invited as to the hours."

"So three, got it. Where at?"

"Inside the main lobby of the League."

"Cool. Is it just me, or is it all of you as well?"

"The press conference is for the Champion, the Elite Four, and the island kahunas."

Moon nodded. "Neat. Anything else?"

Kahili looked down at her phone again. "Have you scrubbed your social media of anything embarrassing or compromising?" she said.

"There's nothing to really erase. I don't have much social media anyway. That's like, mostly what I hired Caroline for. I don't do Probobook or Chatwitter. I have a Spindagram, and I think maybe a Ribomblr?"

"You will need Probobook and Chatwitter," said Kahili placidly. "Spindagram and Chatwitter engage with the thirteen-to-thirty age group, but people over thirty tend to use Probobook."

"Cool, I'll have Caroline set those up."

Kahili eyed her. "You aren't going to manage them yourself?"

"My Spindagram is pictures of food and occasionally derpy Pokémon selfies," explained Moon. "I have no idea what to put on the other ones. Caroline's already got my personal website up, and she knows how to... do this."

"It's unusual," remarked Kahili, putting her phone in her pocket. "Most teenage girls have as many social media accounts as they can."

"That's true, but I'm an adult," said Moon, keeping her tone light. "Also, my publicist is in fact a teenage girl. Which is why she knows what she's doing."

Kahili stared at her for a few more moments, then slowly reached up with one hand to rub at the side of her head. "You'd better have everything straightened out with her legally." Her tone was icy.

"She's writing up an employment contract. I can run it with the legal guys here, right?"

"You can."

"Sweet."

There were a few more moments, and then Kahili let out a loud sigh. "All right," she said. "That's all I needed. Thank you, Champion Hawkins."

A Charizard swept down from the sky, and she climbed onto it and left without so much as a good-bye. Moon glared after her.

"We are not going to get along," she predicted glumly.

"Don't worry." Hau pulled out his Ride Pager. "I bet once she realizes that Caroline's going to make her job easier, she'll relax."

"I wouldn't count on it," said Molayne, grinning. "Now— to the afterparty!"

"The what now?"

* * * * *

Moon hadn't really been expecting any kind of celebration other than maybe ordering pizza with her parents, Hau's family, and Lillie; but apparently Plumeria, Molly, and Rogelio had taken it upon themselves to throw a massive party. Everyone was invited— all of Team Skull, the kahunas, the trial captains, and anybody and everybody Moon had ever met in Alola, it seemed like. Wicke had arranged for Aether to cater and sent it all to Iki Town; Hau's family had been directing a town-wide decoration spree with fairy lights and paper lanterns. Hau had applied his lifetime half-off discount for what had to be a hundred boxes of malasadas, and Professor Kukui had made an online order with Lunarbean for a huge trough of Pokébeans for all of the Pokémon that would be present at the party. Jeremiah was providing music, and Hala was organizing an informal Battle Royal competition.

At first, a lot of the Skulls seemed to be a little uncomfortable, glancing around at the beaming citizens of Iki Town. But Molly and Rogelio were teaming up, prodding people to get food or go dance by Jeremiah's speakers.

Moon was given a seat of honor, at a big table with a good view of the wooden battle platform. Her parents sat on either side of her, grinning proudly. Yoshiro had brought a bunch of his co-workers, who were chatting and eyeing the Battle Royal competition with enthusiasm; and Kapua had, in a surprising turn of events, taken it upon herself to video-call Yoshiro's parents in Kanto.

"Say hello to Nana!" she said, holding up the phone.

"Grandaughter! What's this I hear about you becoming a champion—"

"Hi, Nana," said Moon obediently. "Um— yeah, I'm the Champion of Alola."

Her grandmother's face crowded into the edge of the screen. "Hmm," she said, squinting at Moon. She had a much stronger accent than Moon and Yoshiro. "You've gotten darker. Spending a lot of time outside?"

"That tends to happen when you go on a Pokémon journey."

Her grandmother sniffed. "Hmm."

She was unpleasantly reminded of her conversation with Kahili. Kapua was still smiling at the screen, but Moon could see a bit of strain in her mother's eyes.

"It's been a really fun journey," she said, taking the phone from her mother's hand. "But I don't have a whole lot of time to talk, because they're throwing me a party. Can I say hi to Grandad real quick?"

"A party?" Her grandmother perked up. "Will there be boys? You should wear your kimonos! If they still fit, that is."

"Well, I'm already here so I'm not going home to change." Moon ignored the question about boys, and the jab about her kimonos. "Can I say hi to Grandad?"

Her grandmother rolled her eyes and the video fumbled for a few moments, before her aging grandfather was looking at the screen.

"Mizuki!" he said cheerfully. "Congratulations on being a Champion! Now you have to come back to Kanto and beat your friend Red, eh?"

"Eh, maybe," said Moon, without missing a beat. "It's nice to see you, Grandad. Talk to you later!"

"All right, Mimi— some other time."

The screen jerked away from her grandfather and blurred. "Wait, I wasn't fin—"

Moon hung up before her grandmother could get back on the line, then handed the phone to Kapua.

"When did you get so good at wrangling Nana?" wondered Yoshiro. "She's impossible at the best of times."

Moon considered, then beckoned to both of her parents, lowering her voice as they leaned in. "After dealing with Lusamine," she said quietly, "Nana is a piece of cake."

They both choked on air. None of them could find it in themselves to explain the joke when people began asking why the three of them were laughing so hard.

* * * * *

Moon noticed that Professor Kukui had been watching the Battle Royal competition out of the corner of his eye for some time now; and when he began looking around with a wary touch of mischief in his eyes, she figured they were going to be in for some shenanigans.

She was distracted from the potential of said shenanigans by a legitimately fascinating conversation about Ultra Wormholes with Lillie and Professor Burnet, who wanted to compare their experiences of travel with and without protective gear— what did it feel like? Did they smell or taste anything? Did they feel sick afterward? Therefore, she was legitimately surprised when a lot of people began screaming and cheering.

They all turned to look, and there was the Masked Royal, in all his shirtless glory.

"Oh, wow!" exclaimed Professor Burnet. "I wonder what the Masked Royal is doing here— I'm a big fan, I have to get an autograph, excuse me—"

She hurried away. Moon turned to stare disbelievingly at Lillie.

"I'm not going to be the one to break the illusion," said Lillie pointedly.

Moon sighed. "Yeah, okay. I just think it's ridiculous that she's the only person who doesn't seem to know."

The Masked Royal stepped up to speak with Hala, who heard him out with amusement before nodding and indicating that he should take his place with the other waiting Battle Royal challengers. The current competitors were Jeremiah, Ki-moon, Almas, and Trinh, and they grinned at the Masked Royal before continuing with their battle. Moon watched the battle with an interested eye— the three Team Skull boys were unusually private about their Pokémon. It was a fairly common attitude amongst the Skulls, but Moon had only seen Almas's Mudbray and Ki-moon's Cottonee. She didn't think she'd ever seen any of Jeremiah's Pokémon before, but he was competing with a Pancham that shrieked as loudly as he did. Trinh competed with a Ribombee. Moon watched all of them with interest. She wasn't entirely sure who had the advantage. The winner turned out to be Ki-moon. He had wisely allowed Mudbray to take out Ribombee with a strong Rock Tomb; but then he'd quickly taken care of both Pancham and Mudbray with Cottonee's own type advantages.

They weren't half-bad Trainers, any of them. Guzma, Plumeria, and Gladion were all fantastic Trainers, clearly the best of what Team Skull had to offer; but the afternoon wore into the evening and Moon watched with increasing respect as various individuals of Team Skull held their own. Uilani's blonde Dugtrio had a real vicious streak, and Moon had never seen Cassie in a Pokémon battle at all but she did, however, remember the Houndoom who had heated up the shower pipes after that wretched day in Po Town. Cassie was a strategic thinker, winning two of every three matches she was in.

"I'm just really glad ol' Gladbags is on the other side of the world," drawled Raquel, stepping up to face Mina, Acerola, and the Masked Royal in a new match. She winked at Moon.

"And why's that?" Moon inquired archly.

"Because he'd kick all our damn asses, that's why."

"Watch it," said Plumeria, though there was no heat in her tone. "There's little kids around." She indicated Mel and Wiki, both snickering.

The Masked Royal proved victorious with his Incineroar, who was coincidentally named Blazer just like Professor Kukui's Incineroar; Moon could have sworn it winked at her. But Mina's Ribombee and Acerola's Mimikyu all made good showings, and despite having the worst type advantage Raquel's Drampa didn't do too badly either.

* * * * *

Undercover the joy of the festivities, Moon went looking for and found Hau and Lillie, cuddled in a hammock in Hala's backyard.

"Oh, you're busy," she said. "Never mind then."

"We're not busy," said Hau.

"What do you need, Moon?" asked Lillie.

Moon turned to look at them. In the bright moonlight she could see curiosity and acceptance on their faces. Her two friends, who had been there since the very beginning.

"I wanted to walk—" Her voice caught, and she cleared her throat and tried again. "I wanted to walk up to see Tapu Koko's shrine. It's the only one I haven't been to." She considered. "I mean, I don't remember going to Tapu Bulu's shrine, but I know I was technically there, and I'm probably going to go again with Gladion at some point. But I never quite made it to Tapu Koko's, because of the exploding bridge."

"Oh, that's fine," said Hau easily. "He's at home and expecting you. I thought you would go alone."

Moon stared at him, and he sighed. "Look, it's not quite the same as it is with Gladion and Nanu. One of the reasons Tapu Bulu can talk so directly to Gladion is because Nanu is like, unconsciously rejecting the kahuna bond. Gramps isn't, so I actually can't hear Ko— um, Tapu Koko, unless he really wants to talk to me. I can just like, vaguely pick up on some emotions. Also, I always know where he is now. And Gramps will always be able to do that, even after I'm— yeah."

"That's really cool, though," Moon told him honestly. "I actually did kind of want to ask Tapu Koko a question about that. But I sort of thought— this is how we started this journey. The three of us, and that bridge. So I thought maybe, this is how we should end it."

They both smiled— Hau, slow and warm; Lillie, soft and sweet. "You're a sap," said Hau, but he gamely assisted Lillie out of the hammock before climbing out himself.

The three of them went around the edges of the festivities— not sneaking, exactly; but Moon wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of anyone following them. She saw Nanu skulking by the entrance to Mahalo Trail.

"I'll keep people out for you," he said gruffly, not looking at them.

"Thank you," said Moon sincerely. "It means a lot."

"Yeah, yeah." He waved them off half-heartedly. "Go talk to 'em."

It wasn't until they were halfway up the trail that Moon realized he'd said them and not him.

The three of them stood for a moment in the night, listening to the loud chatter of Pokémon in the jungled woods and looking at the sturdy wood and stone bridge that had been built across the chasm. Moon thought about bridges— about walking across them with Gladion, about closing her eyes against the drop on either side; but then she felt her hands clasped, on both sides.

"We've got you," said Hau quietly from her right.

"You'll be with us," Lillie assured her from the left.

Moon nodded, and they began walking across the bridge.

The other side came sooner than she expected, and she could already see the offering plates outside of that same stone doorway. Hau reached into his pocket, pulled out a rather squashy-looking malasada in a plastic bag, and peeled it out of the bag before setting it in the bowl.

"An offering?" said Moon, looking at the malasada.

"Bribery," Hau corrected her. "Tapu Koko likes Aguav berries and he was interested in how I described malasadas. He told me to bring one the next time I visited. I was planning on coming up here, though I was going to go alone and super late."

I am glad you came earlier, then, for usually I sleep with the sun.

Tapu Koko appeared, in a swirl of golden light; and he looked down at them with a solemn face and twinkling eyes before turning to inspect the malasada.

It smells nice, he commented. Champion, you had a question for me?

"Yeah. Um— how does it work, exactly? Hearing... hearing voices?"

You speak of Sol, Luna, and Grandmother Starlight.

"And Marshadow, but yeah."

Tapu Koko considered her for a few moments. We choose to whom we speak, he said plainly. All of us. We guardians must pick representatives, someone to be our human voice. The sun, moon, and stars do their own speaking, but not everyone wishes to hear their voices.

"So they're kind of... going through me?"

Generally, yes.

There was something deceptively bland in his voice.

"I heard all of them today," said Moon, in a rush. "Before I battled the Professor. They told me— they said." She took a deep breath. "That the journey was only the beginning."

Moon.

Tapu Koko's voice was gentle, and she swallowed. "Yes?"

Say what it is you mean. I am more patient than my brother, but I know you are stalling.

"Is it always going to be like this?" The question burst from her lips, almost as though she had been given permission— and in a way, she had. "All of them talking to me, all the time? It was nice in the moment, they were really kind and everything. But my own voice is loud enough."

Tapu Koko didn't say anything, simply watching her— his eyes knowing.

"Where do I even start?"

You've already begun.

That was a new voice: Nebby, unfurling circular wings and hovering before them.

"I don't know what I'm doing! I don't know how I'm supposed to— to pick people!"

But you're doing just fine, said Nebby, sounding nonplussed. You were thinking about it when you were watching everyone battle.

"That!" exclaimed Moon. "That, too! Is my head not ever going to be my own anymore?"

Your mind is always your own, said Nebby. This is just how we talk. Most Pokémon can't use their mouths to speak.

"It's different, Moon," said Hau quietly. Moon had nearly forgotten that he and Lillie were there. "Gladion and I— we've always got the Tapus in our heads. Tapu Koko doesn't speak to me so much, but Gramps told me he always knows where I am, and that over time I'll always know where he is as well. We've sort of made... pacts. Promises. A little of us live in the Tapus, and a little of them live in us. You're only hearing the voices. They're not really in your head, unless you allow them to be. They can kind of watch, but they can't always hear everything. You had to have been thinking pretty loud for Nebby to have picked up on it, I think."

Hau speaks wisdom. Tapu Koko floated closer. Champion, you don't need to think about this too hard. You are the one who has been chosen to fix this broken land, but that doesn't mean you must find all of the tools and do all of the work yourself.

We will send you the people you can choose, added Nebby. But we need you to choose, and to put them where they will go. That is your task.

Moon sighed. "I'm overthinking this, aren't I?"

Yes, but you wouldn't be you if you didn't overthink it, said Nebby earnestly, and both Hau and Lillie began to giggle. Moon turned to glare at them, but she couldn't keep a straight face and soon she was laughing with them.

That is more like it, said Tapu Koko approvingly. Now, go back to the celebration. Today of all days, you are allowed to ignore fate in favor of a good time.

He disappeared, and so did the squashed malasada in the bowl. Nebby chittered in squeaky, coughing bat-laughter before turning back to Moon.

It's going to take time, she said plainly. At least until after the nasty one is rousted from brother Bulu's island. Don't bother thinking about it until then.

That was a timeline, and timelines were something Moon could work with. "Okay. That helps."

You are the kind of person who gets things done, Champion, and that is why we picked you. But like brother Koko said, you don't have to do it all by yourself.

"We'll be with you," said Lillie softly, reaching out to touch Moon's arm. "We'll always be with you."

"Yeah," agreed Hau. "We're your friends. We won't leave you hanging."

"I'm not going to cry," murmured Moon. "I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry..."

But you're already crying? Nebby sounded confused.

"Details," said Moon, grinning through the tears. "Don't worry about it."

* * * * *

Chapter Text

Lillie woke, and knew immediately where she was: on the sofa in the living room in Kahuna Hala's house, with Hau curled around her like a warm blanket. Normally, she wasn't as much of a morning person as Hau was; but she was a light sleeper, and what had woken her was the creak of a nearby footstep.

Hau's younger sister, Melika-who-went-by-Mel, froze in place, tiptoeing through the living room. "I didn't mean to wake you up," she whispered.

"You didn't," said Lillie automatically. It was a lie and she had been working on that with Dr. Winberry; so she immediately corrected herself. "Well you did, but I sleep really lightly. Anyone would have woken me up, don't feel bad."

Mel looked guilty. "We're all going to be up and getting breakfast in a bit," she said. "Wiki and me have school today, and Dad and Momma and Grandad all have stuff to do."

"Don't worry about it," Lillie assured her. "We'll be up soon."

Mel nodded, though she still looked a little guilty; and quickly walked over to retrieve her backpack from where it was sitting on a shelf by the door before disappearing into another room. Once she was gone, Lillie turned and began to gently shake Hau's shoulder.

"Hau, wake up," she said softly.

"Hmm? Wha?" His eyes cracked open, and one hand came up to pull her face down, onto his chest. "Shh, Lillie. Sleep."

"Your family's getting up and getting breakfast," said Lillie, peeling his hand off her face and fighting the urge to giggle. "I don't want to use their couch while you sleep off the party."

"I never sleep in," mumbled Hau.

"You should sleep in your room, then."

"Oh, good idea. Bed. Come on."

"We're not going to—" began Lillie, but she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

Hau, having lumbered to his feet, stood blinking at her for a few moments. Then his eyes opened fully. "Oh. Yeah, no, you should probably not be sleeping in the same room as me. Momma would not like that."

"It's not that I don't want to," said Lillie, looking down at her lap, "but— well, legally you're an adult, and I am not, and we should probably not do anything that might make us— blur the lines."

"Yeah, no. I get you. Not thinking with my awake brain, just now." Hau squinted at her. "I should have put you in the guest room, but I was just too sleepy to think about it."

"I left my bags at Hapu's house anyway, so I— um, I don't have anything to wear." Lillie glanced down at the rumpled blouse and jeans she had ended up sleeping in. She hadn't been terribly comfortable, but she also hadn't been thinking about it too much because she was tired and cuddled up to Hau at two in the morning. They'd left the Skulls going strong.

"Um— I'd say I'd lend you something, but I think you might actually drown in my clothes."

Lillie considered. "Do you have anything left from preschool? I might fit into those."

Hau reached down, picked up a small cushion from the sofa, and threw it at her. Lillie swatted it away, laughing. "Hey, I was not always a big fella. I was probably about as big as you are now in..." He considered. "Like, seventh grade? Maybe? I had a real growth spurt after freshman year."

"Ah, yes, the summer of the Malasada Stone," said Leilani, walking into the living room and regarding them both with an amused expression.

Both Hau and Lillie froze.

"If you don't mind borrowing my clothes," continued Leilani, addressing Lillie, "I can let you borrow something. It will still be a bit large on you, but it will do until you're ready to go home."

"Thank you," murmured Lillie, flushing.

"You're also welcome to use one of the showers, though I would like to ask you to wait until after breakfast— everyone's using them right now and they have deadlines to meet. Now, you—" She took Hau's arm, gently guiding him toward the kitchen. "—are going to start mixing up pancake batter, on the double; and after I've helped Lillie find something to change into, you and I will be discussing some house rules and basic manners, like offering your guest a guest room and, I don't know, telling your mother if you would like to invite your girlfriend over for the night."

"Sorry," murmured Hau.

"I'm not angry," said Leilani, with a smile. "It just didn't occur to me that I needed to tell you things like that. You haven't had a girl spend the night before."

"Momma!" yelped Hau, but Leilani's smile shifted into a smirk as she closed the kitchen door in his face.

"I'm sorry," said Lillie immediately, feeling wretched. "I wasn't thinking, I should have gone back home for the night—"

"Oh, honey, no." Leilani reached out, taking one of Lillie's hands and leading her over to the stairs. "This is not your fault, and it really isn't Hau's fault either. It's not a big deal. Also, I would have had my boy making breakfast and doing dishes if I found out he sent you home alone that late at night. He did the right thing by asking you in; he just didn't do the thing properly. And we're happy for you to stay, however long you want to or need to. So don't you apologize, honey."

Lillie couldn't trust herself to speak without tearing up, and therefore didn't bother until Leilani had led her into the room she shared with her husband. Kai was in the bathroom off their room, carefully tying his locked hair back into a neat lump at the base of his neck.

"Morning, Lillie," he said cheerfully. "What brings you here?"

"She stayed at ours last night," said Leilani briskly, not elaborating further as she opened a closet door. "But she forgot a change of clothes, so I'm lending her something. I've got some that are too small for me— a little old-fashioned maybe, since they're from before I had Hau, but they should fit you."

She pulled out two shirts, holding them both up for Lillie's inspection. One was bright pink and the other was bright orange, and both of them left a lot more arm and back on display than Lillie was accustomed to showing; but she gamely accepted the pink one, and Leilani grabbed a pair of soft cotton shorts in lurid shades of pink, violet, and blue. "These have a drawstring, so if it's too big just tie it until it isn't. You can change in Hau's room, he's not using it right now."

Lillie felt herself go pink again, and Leilani winked at her before showing her Hau's room and closing the door. She quickly changed, not wanting to think about where she was; though she did note Pokémon posters, a neat navy-blue bedspread, and a TV with a video game console before forcing herself to focus.

The pink shirt presented more of an issue than Lillie thought, in that no matter how she tugged on it, her bra was still visible from the back. She sighed, frustrated, and poked her head out of Hau's door.

Leilani happened to be passing by, and she raised an eyebrow. "All right?"

"What do I do about, um— my bra?"

Leilani blinked at her for a few moments. "Oh, right," she said, with a little chuckle. "You know, I'd forgotten about that. I don't really have anything else that will fit you or I'd get you something else, but you don't wear a bra with that shirt."

"Y-you don't? But how—"

"This isn't an insult, in any way," said Leilani, coming into Hau's room and closing the door, "but you don't have enough up top for it to really matter. Which is a good thing, trust me. When I wore that top I always had to cover my nipples with patches, or gauze and medical tape."

Lillie felt herself go scarlet again. "O-oh."

"I'll throw your dirty clothes in the wash, so just fold them up and put them right outside the door when you're done changing."

"Um— okay. Thank you."

She felt positively naked, walking back downstairs; but Hau glanced up from the griddle where he was flipping pancakes and his jaw literally dropped, so that was— rather gratifying. Lillie smiled tentatively at him and said, "Mrs. Akiona, can I help with breakfast?"

"You can help Mel set the table, honey," said Leilani briskly, "and then you can sit yourself down and wait because I don't let guests do more than the bare minimum."

"You want forks or spoons?" asked Mel, holding up a handful of each.

"I'll take spoons."

She laid spoons out at each of the seven seats at the table, and then sat at the seat that Mel pointed her to and waited. Hau was still staring at her, and a slightly smoky smell rose from the griddle.

"Hau Mikaere," said Leilani severely, "you're eating the burned pancakes. Close your mouth and focus on the food, please." She rolled her eyes at Lillie, but there was a knowing look in her eyes that made Lillie blush again.

Wikolia-who-was-called-Wiki walked in; her face lit up. "Lillie!" she sang, running around the table to hug her. "It's a surprise, I love surprises! Lillie came for breakfast!"

"Actually she was here all night," said Mel, sounding highly satisfied with herself. "She and Hau were cuddling on the couch. I saw them."

Wiki gasped, looking delighted.

"Melika Samantha," said Leilani pleasantly. "Mind your manners, please. That's an awfully gossipy tone you have going there."

"Sorry, Momma."

Hau kept sneaking glances at Lillie, between flipping pancakes; and Wiki sat down next to Lillie and grinned.

"Your shirt's awful pretty," she said admiringly.

"Thank your Momma, it belongs to her," said Lillie.

"Wow, really? Momma, I didn't know you had such a pretty shirt!"

"It's from before I had any babies at all," said Leilani dryly, "and I looked a lot less like a dumpling at that point. And Lillie wears it very well, so she can keep it if she wants."

"Oh, no, I couldn't—" began Lillie.

"Oh, yes, you really could," said Hau, almost too quietly to be heard.

The pancakes were made, along with a pan of scrambled eggs and a stack of toast; and finally Kai and Hala came downstairs and all seven of them sat at the table. Mel squabbled with Wiki over where she was sitting, insisting that Lillie had to sit with Hau; Wiki pouted, but Lillie placated her by suggesting she sit on the opposite side of the table, so they could look across at each other. Wiki was appeased with this solution and Hau sat down on the bench next to Lillie, his eyes lingering for a few moments on her mostly-bare arms and exposed back.

Kai and Hala shot Hau and each other knowing looks during breakfast, which from any two other people Lillie might have found annoying— but Hau had come by his own charisma honestly and she found she didn't really mind the good-natured ribbing. Leilani kept winking at Lillie, which was both mortifying and gratifying; and it was only after Mel and Wiki left to catch the bus for school that Lillie and Hau were politely ushered into the living room.

"So in the future," said Kai gently, "we'd like to know if Lillie will be spending the night. It'd be nice to clean, and plan a good meal."

"You don't need to go to any trouble for me," said Lillie hurriedly, "I don't expect anything."

"What if we want to?" inquired Leilani, and that shut Lillie up.

"If she's going to stay in your room, we might need to know to have Mel and Wiki sleep over at a friend's, or something."

"Dad!" burst out Hau.

"I'm just saying, you can make your own choices, but—"

"We've made a choice," said Lillie quietly, and silence fell; she appreciated that about the Akionas, that they never tried to talk over each other. "We're not— we're not going to sleep in the same b— the same room. For a while." For at least nine months, supplied her brain, because it's nearly March and you turn eighteen in December. "So the guest room is fine, if I'm staying here."

"Okay," said Kai, with a nod. "Good to know. So, will you be needing the guest room?"

"Um— all of my things are at Hapu's house, so I'm going to go back today." Lillie hesitated. "But I don't know if I'll be staying there. My brother left early yesterday morning for Kanto, and he was staying with me at Hapu's so I might— go somewhere else."

She really, really didn't want to go back to Aether Paradise. Amelia would be happy to have her, but the restraining order against Lusamine meant that it would be fairly difficult to avoid the parts of the mansion where Lusamine lived. According to Moon who had heard it from Molly who had gotten word from Trinh, her mother was back in her old room and was very, very unhappy with the graffiti as well as Wicke's clear disinclination to have it removed. But there wasn't anything she could do about it; the house didn't technically belong to Lusamine, but to the Aether Foundation.

She could maybe stay with Professor Burnet; they had the little spare room in her Akala Island apartment. And there was the loft in Professor Kukui's beach house, as well. It left Lillie with a lot of options, so she wasn't too worried about it.

* * * * *

"You are always welcome to come back," said Hapu gently, as Lillie finished packing up her things.

Lillie smiled at her. "I know," she said. "And it's been lovely to stay here— but my therapy is only once a week now, and Gladion's gone to Kanto."

"Where do you plan on going instead?"

"Well— I'd like to be on Melemele Island, near Moon and Hau," admitted Lillie. "But I'm not sure where I might stay. I've stayed with Professor Kukui, so I'll probably do that again."

"I'm sure you will enjoy yourself no matter where you go." Hapu's voice was warm. "Farewell, Lillie. Until we meet again."

"Until next time," agreed Lillie, and got out her Ride Pager to call Charizard.

* * * * *

Lillie couldn't bring herself to text Professor Kukui.

She had been sitting in the Route One Pokémon Center for nearly an hour, with her luggage at her feet. An hour. It was so simple: she just had to pick up her phone and call him. He would probably pick up right away; since Moon was now the Champion, it was more than likely that he was at home, resuming his usual work hours. All she had to do was call.

But— she couldn't. When she thought about it her heart seized up, her breath came short. She couldn't impose like that. She couldn't just— demand to stay with people, just because. Amelia could, and did; that was fine, but Lillie couldn't.

The tears came without permission. Moon was having a long day of work— apparently she'd woken up ridiculously early and filmed an interview with Good Morning Alola, which had probably already aired; but Lillie had missed it. Hau had mentioned that his plans for the day involved talking to Hala about kahuna training, and about when they would be ready to announce that he was, in fact, training. There was a press conference later, that both Moon and Hala would be at; at that point Hau would be free, but until then she didn't want to interrupt him. Gladion was in Kanto, probably still asleep because of the time difference. The professors were both working.

It really only did leave Amelia, and even so Amelia would probably require some preparation time so that Lillie and Lusamine could coexist in the same house without violating the terms of the restraining order. The Skulls would be fine with it, but Lillie wasn't yet comfortable enough with them to coexist in the way that Gladion had done.

She blinked, and the world blurred. It was so stupid. There was no shortage of people who would accept her, who would gladly invite her into their homes. She could even go back to Hapu, except it would be quiet and lonely without her brother and it would look stupid if she left and then went right back. Moon was going to be busy all the time now, and Hau probably would be as well.

They were all moving on, and Lillie was— Lillie was stuck. She was stuck, she was alone, she was going to be stuck and alone forever, she might as well go back to Lusamine because nobody else would be willing to drag themselves down for her—

She didn't realize she was having a panic attack until her Trainer belt vibrated hotly against her waist and suddenly Lapin had burst from the ball, snuggling onto her lap and throwing his slender arms around her neck. "Lo, lo, lo," he chittered, worry in his voice.

She couldn't speak; she couldn't breathe. She was alone. Everyone was going to leave her behind.

"Lillie?"

It was a familiar voice but she couldn't place it.

"Lillie, kiddo, are you all right?"

No, but— that was normal. That was fine. There was something to be said for the familiarity of panic.

"Oh, damn— I can't remember your name, Lopunny. It's probably something Kalosian, right? Marion said most of Lillie's team are named something Kalosian... Lopunny, can I come closer? I just want to help."

"Lo, lo," said Lapin softly, and suddenly a pair of warm arms wound around Lillie's shoulders, pressing her into maternal softness.

"Oh, hey— hey, hey, shh, it's okay, I've got you, kiddo. It's just me, Kapua Hawkins— Marion's momma. Can you hear me, Lillie?"

"Pun lo, pun lo," crooned Lapin, in her ear. Lillie hadn't realized how hard her limbs were shaking until she had someone to press up against.

" 'M sorry," she gasped, " 'm sorry, d-d-don't wanna b-be a b-b-b-bother—"

"You're not a bother, kiddo. Not in your wildest dreams will you ever be as annoying as my own kid, and I love her to bits and pieces." Kapua laughed softly, and somewhere in the back of Lillie's head it vaguely registered that this was a joke. "I'll just hold you until you calm down a bit, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

She would go eventually— everyone did. But Lillie allowed herself to be held, to be calmed.

"Now," said Kapua, producing a pack of tissues from her purse, "what's got you so frazzled in the the middle of a Pokémon Center on a Thursday morning?"

Lillie accepted a tissue, wiping tears and snot from her face— "Oh my god, I got, um, stuff on your shirt. I'm so sorry."

Kapua glanced down at the damp patch on her chest. "I've had worse," she said, shrugging. "When Moon was nine, she caught the flu at school. It was pretty bad that year, a lot of the kids were out sick for a couple of weeks. She threw up all over me about four times. It's part and parcel of being a mom."

Lillie opened her mouth to protest this, but then remembered that it had probably not been part and parcel of being a mom for Lusamine. Before she and Gladion were trusted to watch themselves, she had vague memories of a nanny who fed them and took them to and from the schoolroom, and who had probably dealt with bodily fluids like that.

"Seriously, it's okay," said Kapua, interpreting her silence as more guilt. "I have tons of shirts, and this will wash out. Now, do you want to tell me what's wrong? Because you don't have to, but I'm here if you want to talk."

"U-um—" Lillie's voice cracked. "It's stupid, I'm making a big deal out of nothing."

"Nothing doesn't make people cry, kiddo." Kapua reached out, placing one hand on Lillie's cheek. "I mean, sometimes it does, but for me that just means I should expect to start menstruating in a few days. Moon gets weepy around her time of the month, too."

"I know," said Lillie, because she did; they'd watched enough sappy rom-coms and sobbed over them during Lillie's varied insomniac fits during their travels on Melemele, Akala, and Ula'ula Islands. Moon generally didn't have any problems sleeping, but if she knew Lillie was having trouble with it she was usually happy to stay up and watch a movie with her. And sometimes they cried for no reason or talked about silly things— which actor was the cutest, or why the main character was five kinds of idiot, or whatever.

Sometimes, Lillie talked about Lusamine, in those quiet sleepless nights. Moon always listened, and the look in her eyes then was like the look in Kapua's eyes now.

"I can't help but notice," ventured Kapua, "that you have a lot of bags and things here. Are you heading over to the Paradise?"

"Probably," said Lillie, "but—" She clamped her mouth shut, just after her bitterness had begun to leak out.

"But what, kiddo?"

Kapua's voice was so soft, and her hand on Lillie's face softer still.

"But I— I don't want to," said Lillie, and the words came out in a rush. "It's my home, I suppose. I was staying with Hapu because my brother and I had therapy at the Poni Island hospital, but now he's gone to Kanto and it's— it's lonely. I'm used to being alone, but I don't want to be. A-and I suppose I should go back to the Paradise, but my mother is there, and there's a restraining order, and it's— complicated."

"You know," said Kapua, "I get pretty lonely, myself."

"Hm?"

"My husband lives at the Power Plant during the week, because it's a long commute and it's easier to just collapse into a bed after a twelve-hour shift. Moon's living here, but she's got a long commute and workday too. So I'm alone most days, and we've got a guest bedroom."

Lillie stared at her.

"I don't do very much, kiddo," said Kapua, her mouth quirking. "I clean when I have to, cook when I have to, buy groceries as I need them, and so on. I watch plenty of TV, too. But about three nights a week I go have dinner with the Akionas. Moon will probably be here in the evenings, and Hau will be over with his family doing— well, I don't know what Hau's doing right now, actually. But he'll be around, I'm pretty sure. So if you're comfortable with it, I'd be happy to have you stay at my house. You'd be doing me as much of a favor as yourself."

"R-really?"

"Really."

"Then—" Lillie swallowed. "Then I'd be happy to, to stay with you. If you don't mind."

She knew perfectly well that Kapua Hawkins probably didn't mean it, about Lillie doing her a favor. But it was a crafty strategy— to appeal to Lillie's sense of duty. Lillie thought, perhaps a touch cynically, that Moon must have been gossiping with her mother; but it wouldn't have been malicious, with Moon.

"Not at all," said Kapua, with a smile. "I've got some groceries to pick up, so how about you get yourself cleaned up in the bathroom, and we can walk back home together?"

"Um— okay. Thank you."

* * * * *

"I think it's a great idea, you staying with Aunt Kap," said Hau seriously.

"Yeah?" Lillie felt her heart lighten considerably.

"Yeah." Hau's arm wound around her waist, fingers skimming over the bare skin of her back. Lillie inhaled thinly at the touch, and knew that Hau noticed by the way he paused in his motion for half a second before continuing as though it hadn't happened.

They were at the beach down by Professor Kukui's house. Late February in Alola was warm but not quite proper beach weather, and there were only a few people around— teenagers after a long school day, older couples going on a walk. Hau had brought a quilt and a big beach umbrella, and they were sitting fairly far back from the ocean even though they had both brought swimsuits.

It was, though neither of them had said as much, a date. They hadn't actually been on very many dates. Hau and Moon had both been busy for the last couple of months. So it was nice to just relax with him, a gentle breeze blowing a few loose wisps of hair across her face. One of the pink strands tickled her nose, and she sneezed.

"She doesn't let on, but she really does get lonely. Mom said so," continued Hau. "It's part of why she got that grumpy Absol. The Meowth is getting a little older apparently, and Aunt Kap thought they could both use a new friend. But she probably misses having Moon around. She's kind of an empty nester now, I guess."

"I suppose I didn't see it that way before," admitted Lillie.

"Plus, Aunt Kap is way cooler than my mom," said Hau, with a grin. "I know for a fact she keeps soda stocked up for when Moon's at home, and I bet you anything she's going to ask you in a couple of days what your favorite flavor is and start buying that, too. My mom only gets soda for special occasions, and even then nothing with caffeine in it."

"I could tell Mrs. Hawkins that I like root beer," suggested Lillie.

Hau looked at her for a few moments. "It's sweet of you to offer," he said, still grinning, "but after going over some house rules with my parents, they've told me that I'm allowed to keep some food in my room if I want it, because I'm an adult and they can't dictate how I spend my money. So you tell Aunt Kap you like Cheri cola, and I'll buy my own root beer."

"That works, too." Lillie smiled at him, and Hau's grin went unfocused for a few moments before he leaned in to kiss her.

It was a while before Lillie noticed, but when she did she had to stifle her laughter. Generally when they were kissing, Hau became rather... handsy. Not in a rude way, of course. There were certain places neither of them went because, as Hau had once stated, even if our bodies are ready my mind certainly isn't, so we're going to take things really, really damn slowly. But his hands wandered, as though he needed to map every place he could. Sometimes his fingers curled through her hair; sometimes his hands wrapped around her face, with his thumbs brushing her cheeks like she was made of glass. Sometimes one hand crept down to the back of her neck. Sometimes he held her at the waist, steady and strong. And his hands changed places quite often, brushing gently down from neck to shoulders, or drifting down her back.

Today, his hands were not leaving her bare skin, exposed by the pink top.

"What's so funny, babe," said Hau, when it became clear that she was actually giggling too hard to keep kissing.

"You— you're just—" Lillie waved her hands around for a few seconds, but Hau merely looked confused, so she had to elaborate. "You're really, you're really focusing on just the one place, today."

His hands twitched on her skin, and suddenly heat radiated from his face a few inches from hers; he was blushing. "Yeah, well— okay, I don't have any excuse. You're hot."

It was Lillie's turn to blush, and it showed on her face and she couldn't maintain eye contact. Hau laughed—a low, intimate sound, for her ears alone.

"My beautiful Lillie," he said, and one hand drifted deliberately up— straight up her spine, across bare skin. She inhaled hard; it was like being set on fire. "All mine; how lucky am I?"

"N-no luckier than I am," managed Lillie, as one of his hands threaded through her hair, fingers winding along her scalp. Sparks showered over every place his hands made contact; and he slowly pulled her back in, lips meeting with even more fire than before.

Sometime later they broke apart with a gasp, and Hau said breathlessly, "Hey, um— I need to go swimming. Like right now."

"I— oh." It clicked, and she probably looked like a Cherrim, or a cooked Kingler. "Yes, um— that's fine, take your time."

She extricated herself from his lap, and he gingerly got to his feet before peeling off his shirt and sprinting over to the water. Lillie watched him fondly as he yelped his way to waist-deep. The air was warm, but the water was still quite cold and that would... help. With... with things.

"Hey."

Lillie glanced up, blinking, at a boy about her age. He was not wearing a shirt, and seemed to be puffing out his chest. "Hello?" she said cautiously.

"You're pretty cute."

It was strange, how quickly her emotions could shift. One second she was smiling at her sweet, silly boyfriend; the next second she was uncomfortable and annoyed. "Um, thank you."

"Wanna hang out with me and my friends?" He gestured at a group of boys about twenty yards away, goggling at them and nudging each other.

"No, thank you," said Lillie, and it was strange how easy it was, now, to say no. It was something she had struggled with for a long time, but Dr. Winberry had made her practice saying it. "I'm here with my boyfriend."

"Isn't he a little old for you?"

"We're only a year apart, so no."

"Come on, that guy's gotta be like, twenty-two, and you're like sixteen."

"I'm seventeen, and he's eighteen," said Lillie coolly. She was rapidly getting fed up with this conversation; it was time to bring out the big guns. "You might have seen him yesterday on television, when he battled with Champion Moon."

"Oh, no shit?" The boy peered out at Hau, before turning back to Lillie with a grin. "He lost, though. Sure you want to be dating a loser?"

It was always Gladion who had the temper; he had inherited it from their mother. Lillie's own temperament was generally more nervous than angry. But when she blinked— there was Hau, cradling her aching, already-bruising fist with an expression of concern; and the boy was on the ground, howling in pain and clutching his face.

"Oh my god," said Lillie staring at him. "I just— did I just hit him?"

"Yeah, babe, you did. Any particular reason?"

"He— he called you a loser."

Hau's eyebrows rose. "Oh."

"B-because you lost to Moon, but I think he was just— he, he wanted me to go with him and his friends," stammered Lillie.

"There's no one I'd rather lose to than Moon," pointed out Hau, rather sensibly. "She's the most gracious winner I've ever met. Doesn't gloat, always tells you what you did well. Without even thinking about it, really. Where did you learn to hit?"

"Gladion taught me," admitted Lillie. "When we were both staying at Hapu's. I practiced on hay bales in the barn."

"Ow!" screeched the boy, staggering to his feet. "That wasn't called for, you— you fucking b—"

"Buddy," said Hau, letting go of Lillie to loom over the boy by a good eight inches at least, "don't finish that sentence. Just don't."

He spoke quietly, but his height and muscle did most of the talking and the boy gulped visibly, fat lip wobbling, before turning and nearly running back to his friends.

"You pack a hell of a punch for someone so tiny," chuckled Hau, reaching for her hand again. "Gladion should have taught you how to do it so you don't bruise."

"I would have bruised no matter what," said Lillie, shaking her head. "I bruise really easily. I think I did it correctly, or it would be hurting a lot more."

"You think you did it correctly?"

"I literally do not remember punching him," admitted Lillie. "I heard him call you a loser, and then the next second he was on the ground crying."

Hau regarded her for a few moments. For a few moments, she could have sworn that his normally charcoal-grey eyes flashed with a golden light; but it was gone as soon as it came. "You know how Nebby calls me your prince?"

Lillie blinked. It was a complete change in subject. "Um, yes?"

"And you said that was probably because of like, how you view me and how Nebby's picked up on your thought processes some because she's a Psychic-type who's spent a lot of time with you."

"Right."

"Right now," said Hau, his grin widening, "I kind of feel like the damsel in distress, though I am neither a damsel nor in distress."

She choked on a laugh. "Oh my god."

"It's not about needing or wanting to be rescued, or anything like that. It's like— having someone fighting for your honor." The smile was still present but he swallowed, looking down at the ground. "That's pretty— that's pretty great."

Lillie looked at him for a few moments, then stood on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck. He was wet and cold from the ocean, but she didn't really care about that.

"I'd do it again," she found herself saying. "And again, and again. Forever, if I have to."

"I don't think you'll have to. Sooner or later, anyone who talks crap about me will have to know that my girl's gonna find out and sock 'em in the face."

Lillie nodded, and kissed him. Hau smiled into it, pulling her closer.

"Let's go swimming."

"Okay."

* * * * *

Moon, fresh out of the shower with wet hair plastered to the sides of her face, stared at them incredulously.

"You punched a guy?" she said.

Lillie held up her bruised hand, and Hau took it back and put the bag of frozen peas on top of it.

"Well, damn," said Moon, after a few seconds. "That's sick. Nice going, Lillie."

"On the one hand, it's best if you don't have to punch people," pointed out Kapua, mixing a large bowl of salad in the kitchen. "On the other hand— if you have to fight with someone, make sure you hit first, and make sure you hit hard."

Moon looked at her mother with the same incredulity with which she had regarded Lillie. Lillie fought not to laugh at the calm smile on Kapua's face.

"Oh my god," said Hau quietly. "That must be what it feels like to be Gladion."

"What do you mean?"

"He's always surprised when someone turns out to be cooler than he thought they were."

That was more due to having chronic and understandable trust issues with most capital-A Adults, but Lillie understood how it probably looked from Hau's perspective.

"Hey, Aunt Kap, can I use your shower?"

"Lillie has first dibs, because she's living here now," said Kapua, without missing a beat. "We're coming over for dinner, so you can run uphill and shower at your own place."

"Okay, that makes sense." Hau turned Lillie around, cradled her face in his hands, and kissed her— loudly and obnoxiously, with lip-smacking noises to intentionally gross out Moon. It worked, judging by the wrinkled nose and slight frown she presented them with when Hau let Lillie go. "See you in a bit!"

"Lillie's living here?" said Moon, as Hau bounced out of the front door.

"Temporarily," admitted Lillie. "It's— um, since Gladion left, Hapu's house has been a bit lonely, and I didn't want to go back to the Paradise. Amelia would have had to make a lot of arrangements for— um, for Lusamine. Because of the restraining order."

"Shouldn't it be her responsibility to find housing? Legally speaking?" Moon grinned when Lillie raised an eyebrow at her. "Hey, I did some research."

"Yes," allowed Lillie, "but if she stays on the Paradise she'll be well-supervised."

"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?"

"Something like that, yes." Lillie put the bag of peas back into Kapua's freezer. "Um, where's the shower? I should probably make myself presentable if we're going to have dinner with the Akionas."

"Here, follow me," said Moon, beckoning. Lillie followed her over to the side hallway that had the guest room in it, and Moon pointed at a different door. "It's this one. Listen, I'm stoked you're staying with us."

"Really?" It came out before she could stop it.

"Duh," said Moon, grinning. "You're one of my best friends, and I think Mom's been lonely."

"She said she was," admitted Lillie, "though I still think the invitation was made out of pity."

Moon studied Lillie for a moment, then opened another small door. This one contained stacks of towels and bedsheets on a shelf, and she withdrew a towel before handing it to Lillie. Lillie was already wearing a towel wrapped around her waist, but the dry one would come in handy for after the shower. "It's not just that," she said quietly. "It's— ugh, this is a little embarrassing. You know I didn't have any friends in Kanto, besides Red and Blue."

"You've mentioned it before."

"Mom and Dad both love you because you're one of my friends," said Moon, and she was flushing deeply enough for Lillie to see it on her golden-brown skin. "Mom probably invited you because she's grateful, not because she pities you."

It was a perspective that Lillie hadn't considered; and it was this that truly put her awkwardness at rest. "If she feels that way, I can hardly refuse," she said, with a smile.

"Plus, Dad and Wicke were friends in high school, and they've been catching up here and there," added Moon. "They've probably all been gossiping about us anyway, and I bet Mom wants to mother the shit out of you."

Lillie rubbed at the back of her neck, knowing she'd gone pink again. "I'll let her," she murmured.

"Good." Moon patted Lillie on the shoulder. "Glad we had this talk, let's never do it again."

"Agreed."

Chapter Text

* * * * *

Kahili might not like Moon, but she was still there when Moon arrived at the Alolan Publicity Corporation broadcasting building in Hau'oli City at four forty-five in the morning; and so, to her relief, was Caroline. Caroline looked exceptionally nervous, but her expression was determined, and she held out a stack of paper as Moon walked up to the two of them.

"I kind of ate through my savings to meet a lawyer and go over this, but it's an employment contract and it goes with the terms you mentioned the other day over text," she said firmly, before Kahili could even begin to speak. "So if you could go over it with your legal people, and sign everything, then hopefully you can start paying me so I don't go broke."

"Cool."

"Also, I want to get your social media accounts set up. You can keep your personal Spindagram and run that how you want, but it might be a good idea to have an official one as well. And we need Chatwitter and Probobook. Do you remember your Ribomblr account username?"

"I've got no idea," confessed Moon, though her eyes flicked to Kahili. "Um, Caroline— this is Kahili, she's one of the Elite Four and in charge of the League's public affairs, which are separate from my personal public affairs. Which you are in charge of. Kahili, this is my publicist, Caroline Palmer."

"May I see that?" said Kahili, gesturing at the packet.

"U-um, yes, I suppose."

The older woman leafed through the packet, eyebrows rising; but she didn't make any comment, merely handing it back to Caroline with a nod. "All right. The greenroom is this way, and the anchors want to talk to you before they air."

"Cool," said Moon.

"Did you bring something else to wear?"

"Uh— oh, shit, should I have done?"

Kahili sighed. "It's my fault for not mentioning it." She eyed Moon's outfit, a tank top and plain black leggings. "It will do, though I'd prefer you had a cardigan or a jacket."

"I've got one," volunteered Caroline, opening her bag. "I always have one, I get cold all the time. You can borrow it."

"Thanks," said Moon, pleased.

The anchors were very nice, though Moon promptly forgot their names because it was stupidly early. She was also distracted by the enormous table of makeup and the bustling assistants in the greenroom, but that was beside the point. Caroline, to Moon's surprise, talked more to the anchors than she did, and said intelligent things besides: Can I see the list of questions you want to ask Moon? Hm, thank you— you should probably not ask this one, or these, because there's some legal stuff related to the answers, honestly you just don't want to open that can of Wurmples. Are these questions, right here, absolutely necessary? They sound like tabloid questions, don't you think? I've been fielding calls from Lara LaRue that sound suspiciously similar. Yes, I know the people want to know a little more about Moon personally, but that's her prerogative. No, she's not talking much now, but it's very early. You need to give her caffeine. I promise once she's awake, she won't shut the hell up. Also, she can't really talk when they're putting on the TV cakeface. But she's got a very strong personality, and when she is awake and able to talk you're going to see it clearly.

Moon couldn't resist peeking over at Kahili, who was staring at Caroline. The anchors and the producers sputtered at the teenage girl telling them off, but she held her ground and in short order, the makeup was finished and there was a large plastic cup with some kind of sinful, sugary caffeine in it. She wasn't sure if it was hot cocoa with coffee in it, or coffee with chocolate in it; either way the proportions were about even, and besides that there was whipped cream and caramel. Life with a publicist was not half damn bad.

* * * * *

"...and joining us here today, before her very first day of work as the Champion of our brand-new League: we'd like to welcome to APC's Good Morning, Alola— Moon Hawkins!"

At a wave from the producer, Moon strode out of the backstage area to where the three anchors were sitting. She waved at the cheering studio audience and took the squashy chair to which she was directed.

"Ooh, comfy," she remarked, wiggling in place and drawing a laugh from the crowd.

"Glad you think so," laughed the closest of the anchors; he had coppery reddish-brown hair and a fluffy mustache. "Now, Moon— we're all really curious about you, because you haven't been on social media a whole lot. All we know is that you're our Champion, and you have a Spindagram account with lots of pictures of food."

"And derpy selfies," supplied Moon. The producers obligingly put a visual up on the screen behind them— a Spindagram post she'd made about six months ago, in a restaurant in Konikoni City with Hau and Lillie, all of them making the weirdest faces they could. Moon's eyes were crossed, and she'd stuck out her upper jaw into an overbite; Hau had wrinkled his nose and mouth into a creepy smile and was squishing Lillie's face with his hands— she was laughing, but you couldn't see much of that in a picture. "Yeah, like that."

"Are those your friends?"

"Yep, that's Hau and Lillie. They're going to murder me after watching this. Hi, guys! This is totally not my fault!" She waved at the camera before turning back to the anchors. "Well, what did you want to know, exactly?"

"Well, let's start with something easy: your teammates." The female anchor grinned, when Moon's hand automatically went to her Trainer's belt. "You can bring them out and introduce them, if you want?"

"Um— I'm not bringing them all out," said Moon immediately, to groans from the audience. "I know, I know, but— uh, one of them gets really, really excited about audiences and forgets that she's twelve feet long, so there will be smashed-up recording equipment. And two of the others are a little, um— well, my Jolteon is super grouchy, and my Golisopod is really shy. So it will just be the three that won't mind coming out."

She got Hero out first, as the largest one; then Puck and finally Ariel, who fluttered around the anchors in a quick, happy circle before settling on the back of Moon's chair. Puck stood awkwardly behind her, wings folding down to his sides and back as he shuffled from side to side, talons clacking on the hardwood floor. "Right, so— the Metagross is Hero, the Toucannon is Ariel, and the Decidueye is Puck." She enunciated Puck clearly, as the production team had asked her to do. "They're all named after characters from the plays of William Shakespeare. I'm a bookworm and low-key a huge nerd."

"See, that's something we didn't know!" exclaimed the last anchor, a balding man with glasses. "We're already learning so much. Would you consider any of your teammates in particular to be your ace, or the team leader?"

"Oh, that's Puck for sure." Moon reached up, trying to find Puck without looking; he let out a sigh loud enough for the microphones to pick up and leaned down to press his face against her hand. "There you are. He was my starter. He's also a little grumpy, but he's really smart, and also confident. I always know I can rely on him in a pinch."

She heard him preening, and a few scattered giggles rose from the studio audience.

"And what about the rest of your teammates? What are they like?"

Ariel cawed loudly, turning to look at Moon with an expectant expression; this produced more laughter, Moon's among it. "Yes, girlfriend, I'm getting to you. Ariel is one of my tanks, which you might not expect by looking at her— she's the second-smallest one on my team. But she's really solid in battle, and I've won some truly difficult fights by keeping her moveset away from what most people expect in a Toucannon." She glanced at Ariel, whose beak had lifted in pride, and put her hand to her face as though to whisper, though she didn't lower her voice. "She's also a bit of a diva, but I kind of love that about her."

Ariel squawked indignantly, but there was a sparkle of amusement in her eyes that Moon knew meant she didn't mind the joke, and the audience laughed again.

"Oh, how fun! What about Metagross?"

"Hero's my other tank, which is something you would expect— Steel-types are always bulky, you know. But they hit hard, too. It's funny— I met Hero as a Beldum on Mount Hokulani, but my Jolteon was really resistant to the idea of me adding a fifth teammate to the roster. But Hero wanted to come with me, so they followed me down Mount Hokulani, and up Route Eleven and Twelve, and by then they'd won Jolteon over so I asked them to join. They were a Metang by then. It was pretty cool."

She was not at all going to mention what had happened in Haina Desert. None of what she had said was technically a lie, but the Haina was meant to be out-of-bounds for island challengers who hadn't passed Nanu's Grand Trial.

"Now, you said you wouldn't bring out your other teammates, but would you tell us about them? We do have pictures we can show the audience."

"Oh, really? Cool. Um— so there's my Jolteon." She glanced around the studio, and saw both a smaller screen on the floor, angled up towards herself and the anchors as well as a larger one behind them, for the audience. The black-and-white picture of herself on the website that Caroline's friend Vanya had done up was blown up, with a drawn-on arrow pointing to Ben. "His name is Benedick, but I just call him Ben. I raised him from an egg, which means that I'm not only his Trainer but essentially his mother, and... well, he treats me that way. Which a lot of the time, it means that he's grumpy and swearing at me and sulking for no reason. And I know it sounds like I'm just complaining about him, but like— the thing is, that's how he knows I love him. If I didn't love him, I wouldn't care that he was a brat. Because he's definitely a brat, but he's my brat. He's a Jolteon, so he's fast and he hits hard."

The female anchor nodded. "Fans of your battle style have observed that you usually have him set up Thunder with Rain Dance, which is a pretty risky choice for a Jolteon in the metagame. They're not known to be able to take hits, and some would argue that Rain Dance allows an opponent a free hit."

Moon snorted. "Maybe that's true if you're setting up Rain Dance and you aren't tiny and incredibly light on your feet," she answered promptly. "When I say Ben is fast, I mean he's fast. He's definitely my fastest teammate, though Puck comes in a pretty close second. Ben almost never gets hit, which would not be the case if I tried to rely on Thunder without setting Rain Dance up first. Rain Dance with Thunder is a guaranteed hit, with greater power; without, it's just as likely to miss as it is to hit— and thereby afford an opponent more opportunities to attack. Some people would argue that Thunderbolt is more reliable in a pinch, and that's definitely true— but STAB Thunder hits, in metagame terms, for two hundred percent damage. That's power I can't forgo."

"Should you be revealing that much strategy about your team on public television?" joked the mustachioed anchor. "What if challengers watch your interview and decide to challenge you after you've discussed your metagame?"

Moon raised an eyebrow. "Ben's one of six," she said, smirking at the camera. "Electric-type is only weak to Ground-type— if they can even hit him to begin with. And I have both Grass- and Water-types on my team. And I follow the metagame, too; I know that Rain Dance and Thunder isn't usually a viable strat. So anyone who's trying to get tips for challenging me from a television interview alone— I just have this to say: you can certainly try."'

The television audience gasped and murmured, but there was something admiring in their tones. Moon was glad, because that had been a pretty ballsy comment to make. But it was something Blue might have said, and she was trying to channel Blue as much as she could for public appearances. What had once been mere bluster and swagger was now confidence and pride— backed up, she thought, by having someone he loved and who loved him back, someone he could rely on. She already had that, both in Gladion and in all her other friends and family.

"Speaking of Water-types," suggested the balding anchor, "tell us about your Golisopod."

"Oh." Moon sat up straight; she was actually fairly excited to talk about this, because it had been a point she'd soapboxed about to a lot of people, including Caroline and, however briefly, Kahili. Both of them had approved for her to tell this story— Kahili had stated it was for reasons of improving her public image, but Caroline had simply said, it shows people who you are, and Moon wasn't quite sure what the younger girl meant by that but she was pretty certain it was a compliment. "Okay, yes. My Golisopod is named Lady Macbeth, though I just call her Macbeth usually."

"Isn't Lady Macbeth a villain, in Shakespeare's plays?"

"Yes," agreed Moon. "But she's one of the most powerful female characters in the entire collective works of Shakespeare, and that matters in ways I'll get to explaining in a second. So, I met Macbeth when I was on Akala Island. I was, um, spending some time with, uh—" She paused, suddenly realizing she hadn't discussed whether or not Gladion was okay with her discussing their relationship in public with him or not; he probably didn't care that much but it was better to be safe than sorry. "Uh, with a guy who is now my boyfriend. We were out on the beach on Route Eight, just chilling and letting our Pokémon play, and this little Wimpod comes skittering up to me and my Bug-type phobia so I completely freak out."

"You're scared of Bug-types?"

"It's not nearly as bad as it used to be," clarified Moon at once. "I kind of, you know, had to get used to them. And I have a— um, an acquaintance who's a Bug-type Trainer, and the way he treats his teammates is like— I dunno, I can't really be freaked out when I'm watching him pet a Spinarak the way you or I might pet a Rockruff. But yeah, in general I'm still a bit uncomfortable around Bug-types."

"I think many people feel the same way. So, Wimpod comes up to you?" prompted the female anchor.

"Yeah, and she was freaking out, too. There were these— these two kids." Moon paused for a few moments, looking at the camera. "They were playing with the Wimpod, or maybe they thought they were, but like— they were probably twelve-ish, which is old enough to know that firstly, you don't just play with wild Pokémon, that's a bad idea and you can literally get killed, and secondly, you don't play with wild Pokémon by hitting them with sticks."

Gasps and murmurs rose from the audience, and Moon nodded grimly. "Yeah, I was really— I was not happy about that, and I let them know. Even if I was creeped out by the little Wimpod hiding behind me, it's like— I'm not just going to stand by and watch a couple of kids pick on her. It's wrong to hurt Pokémon. They're far more powerful than you or I could ever be, but for the most part, they seem to trust and like humans. It's our responsibility to treat them well and to respect them. So I kind of— I yelled at those kids."

"Oh, I bet they regret that now," said the female anchor, with a grim smile.

"Maybe, but they were like twelve, and I know that when I was twelve I was a little sh—" Moon blanched, coughed, and cleared her throat. Kahili and Caroline, across the studio, were staring daggers at her for almost swearing on public television. "Twit. I was a little twit. When I was twelve." The audience laughed at the obvious correction, and so did the anchors; it cleared the slightly somber mood that had settled over the crowd. "For the record, if the two of you are watching and you recognize me or remember this, then I'm not sorry for yelling at you, though I am sorry for being mean about it. But I was just so mad. The poor little Wimpod was so bruised, to the point that it was showing under her shell! The shells are kind of— translucent, you know, when they're at that age. Because they live on beaches and in the water a bit, and they try to camoflauge with their surroundings. So I could literally see bruises, and she was so scared she was shaking, the poor thing. I yelled at those kids, and they ran off and then the Wimpod just— she just adopted me. And I was kind of nervous about my Jolteon— or I should say, Eevee, because at that point I hadn't evolved him yet. He was a brat even then and I wasn't sure how well he would take to her, but I brought him out to meet her and he just looks at her and goes, oh, she's cute. And that was the first time I'd ever seen him express a positive emotion about anything that wasn't food or biting things he shouldn't, so I decided it was a sign and she joined my team. The two of them are best friends— frankly, I think they love each other more than they love me. But as long as they're happy, I'm happy."

At this she received a round of applause from the audience, which made her blink in surprise. The anchors solemnly joined in. It looked like Kahili and Caroline had been right about this story.

"So why did you name her Macbeth?"

Moon grinned. "She was so shy, in the beginning," she said fondly. "When I caught her, she was just— shaking like a leaf. And I thought— well, if I'm going to raise this little girl, I'm going to do the thing properly, and make sure she grows up to be a confident, powerful fighter. Wimpod are, you know, wimps. That's normal. But Golisopod are tough, and I wanted my little girl to be tough. So I gave her the name of a tough, powerful woman. Lady Macbeth is like, actually one of the best villains ever written. There's this— like, this power dynamic in gender, that existed in Galar and everywhere else at the time Shakespeare wrote his plays. Women could have power, certainly, but it was generally inherited from men. They were powerful because they married well, or because their father was wealthy. But Lady Macbeth, she went beyond that. Yes, she was an absolutely terrible person who did terrible things, but she also went and did them, and she didn't take power just because her husband did. She took power in spite of her husband. She was bold and confident and supremely evil, and I'm pretty sure that my Macbeth doesn't give a damn about Lady Macbeth the character, but now she's— well, if Lady Macbeth the character is bold, confident, and supremely evil, my Macbeth is, at the very least, bold and confident. I like to lead with her in battle, for obvious metagame reasons. Though having said that, you should expect my strategies to change." She winked at the camera.

The audience cheered again, and the female anchor was outright grinning. The mustachioed man was smiling thoughtfully, though the balding one looked just a touch uncomfortable.

"What a wonderful story," said the female anchor warmly. "It's really clear that you care deeply about your teammates and about Pokémon in general. Thank you for sharing that."

"Sure thing. I mean, you're welcome." Kahili's expression, on the other side of the room, was flat and unamused. Moon did her best to ignore the intimidating stare.

"That leaves your last teammate, who we have to confess— none of us, nor anyone on our production team, could recognize her from the picture alone."

"Ah, yes." Moon glanced down at the screen as the picture shifted, with the drawn-on arrow indicating Kate. The picture on the website had been of her still as a Poipole, but even as she watched, the picture shifted to show Kate as a Naganadel, in what was clearly a screenshot of her battle with Hau. She was facing down BB, clearly gearing up to use Flamethrower. "This is Katharina, or Kate for short. She's the one who would get really excited and destroy everything on the set because she couldn't contain her joy, which is why I'm not actually bringing her out. Um— so... yeah." She cleared her throat, blushing; Kahili's stare was quickly narrowing into a proper scowl. "Um, do any of you all remember, um, recently, when the, um— the moon vanished? For a night?"

"That was a few months ago, wasn't it? At the very end of the year."

Moon nodded. "So, um— there was some stuff, that happened. With legendary Pokémon. I can't get into details because a lot of it is, um, classified by the Alolan government and INTERPOL and stuff, but, um— what you need to know is that I was involved in that, the moon vanishing and then reappearing. So as a, um— a gift, in gratitude for the services I offered during that time, I was given Kate. In her pre-evolved form, at the time. That was the first picture. She's since evolved, as you can see."

"Can you tell us anything about her? What kind of Pokémon is she?"

"Well, I know we took some pictures and did measurements and things for the international Dex, with Professor Kukui's assistance. So she's probably in there, somewhere. Um, she's a Poison- and Dragon-type. She was just Poison before she evolved, but gained Dragon on evolution."

"Oh, wow! That's a pretty rare typing."

Moon nodded again. "It's shared with Dragalge, but other than that, yeah. Good typing, too— Poison-type negates the immediate weakness to Fairy that Dragon-types have, and Kate's also really versatile. She can learn a lot of different moves. I usually have Toxic, Venoshock, and Dragon Pulse on her, but the fourth move I'll switch out for different battles. She can use... um, let me see if I can remember. It's a long list. Air Cutter, Hidden Power, Hyper Beam, Thunderbolt, Leech Life, Sludge Wave, Flamethrower, Sludge Bomb, Fire Blast, Aerial Ace, Acrobatics, Shadow Claw, Smart Strike, Fly, X-Scissor, Dragon Tail, Poison Jab, Snarl, and Dark Pulse. And those are just offensive moves; she can learn all the usual things like Rest and Protect, and whatnot."

"That's a very comprehensive list," said the mustachioed anchor. "Do you have preferences among those?"

"Flamethrower for sure. I don't have any Fire-types and it's great to defend against Ice-types. If she could learn Sunny Day, I might consider Fire Blast, kind of like how I do Rain Dance and Thunder with Ben— but she's not as fast as he is, so I don't think it would work as well. Um, Air Cutter's also really good. So is Dark Pulse as I haven't got a Dark-type teammate, and it counters the Poison-type weakness to Psychics— but that's metagame stuff. Kate's very much a special-attacker."

"Yes, that's a very special-attack focused moveset," said the balding man, nodding. "How did you get her? I know you said she was a reward, but where might one catch a— ah, you didn't say the species name."

"That was on purpose," said Moon apologetically. "I was sort of hoping you wouldn't ask. I'm pretty sure I'm allowed to tell you, but the more people know the more they want to know, and all that. Um— unevolved, the species name is Poipole, and evolved, it's Naganadel. And you can't find them in the wild in Alola." She paused. "Or anywhere on Earth, actually. Don't think about that too hard, it goes into stuff I really can't talk about, or INTERPOL will disappear me." The audience was suddenly, fascinatedly silent. "That was a joke. I'm too prominent a public figure at this point to be disappeared."

Relieved laughter rippled through the crowd, and Moon grinned, making finger guns at the camera.

"So she's unique?" pressed the balding anchor.

"Yep."

"Wouldn't you say it's a little unfair for you to use a unique Pokémon in official League battles?"

Moon blinked at him. "Maybe," she said neutrally, "if I hadn't just told you her typing and the details of the moveset I generally use with her. That's now public information. Though anyone might have guessed Poison-type, just by looking at her. That bright shade of purple isn't found in nature except on Poison-type Pokémon. It's one of those biological signals— to predator Pokémon, it says eat me, I look like a delicious Berry, but then it's poisonous and the predator dies. Which then means that it also says, don't touch me because brightly colorful things will kill you. You can see similarly bright colors in the Crobat line, who are kind of a similar shade of purple, as well as Grimer and Muk in both Alola and in other places. Um, the Venipede family are also brightly colored, and so are Roserade, Vileplume, Arbok, Seviper, and a whole bunch of other Poison-types. So an educated guess might lead a scientifically well-read Trainer to correctly assume Poison-type."

The balding anchor frowned but nodded. He didn't seem to like her, and Moon had noticed the difference when she'd gone off about Lady Macbeth and women having power, so her best guess was that he was probably kind of sexist and therefore uncomfortable with having historical power dynamics of gender pointed out to him on public television, or something like that.

"And you can't catch Poipole or Naganadel on Earth, but they aren't unique. I've fought a Trainer with a Poipole before. I've known of their existence for... at least six months, probably longer. So it's not truly a unique Pokémon; just very rare."

"You mentioned that you have a Bug-type phobia," said the mustachioed anchor. "And your— Naganadel, you said? It sort of resembles a Beedrill, in a way."

Moon grimaced. "I have had that pointed out to me, but I try to ignore it."

"Isn't it difficult?"

"It might be more difficult if Kate's personality were different, but she's— well, she's basically a twelve-foot hyperactive Rockruff in disguise. She gets into everything, she knocks things over, she forgets she's enormous and tackle-hugs me all the time. I'm told by people in the know that she will mellow out with age, but despite her size she's my youngest teammate, so I don't mind if it takes her a little longer. Kids will be kids."

That produced another laugh.

"Now," said the female anchor, leaning forward and resting her hand on her chin. "You mentioned a boyfriend, earlier?"

Moon coughed. "Um, I haven't had the opportunity to talk to him about talking about him in public, so, um— no comment."

"Surely he wouldn't be mad if you told us a little about him," laughed the mustachioed anchor.

"Probably not, but I'm still going to talk to him about it first. He's a very private individual and this isn't something I'm going to spring on him without asking."

"That's fine," said the female anchor, with a nod. "We were just curious, that's all— we know all about your teammates now, but we still don't know a whole lot about you."

Moon shrugged. "I'm an open book, ask away." She paused. "Though I may not be able to answer some questions, again for legal reasons."

"Fair enough." The female anchor glanced down, consulting her notes, but the balding anchor burst in before she could say anything.

"Where are you from?" he said, offering a placid smile. "You don't look like a native Alolan."

It was like being instantly transported back to Kanto: back to kindergarten, really. Walking into her very first class and seeing an entire room of children with black hair and pale skin— while she was the color of honey. Hearing that question, over and over and over, every year, every time she met someone new.

Moon regarded him for several long moments, but just as his smile faded slightly into vague annoyance, she shifted, clearing her throat. "I was born in Kanto," she answered, folding her hands in her lap, "but I am half Alolan, one quarter Kantonian, and one quarter Unovan. I assume that is what you actually wanted to know, when you asked that question."

On the other side of the room, Kahili's clenched jaw visibly and audibly twitched; the sound of grinding teeth was so loud that the mustachioed anchor glanced over in alarm. Caroline's hand had come up to cover her mouth, but she looked more like she was trying not to laugh than anything else.

"Er, I," stammered the balding anchor.

"Oh, it's fine, don't worry about it," said Moon, offering him a large and very fake smile. "I do get that question quite often, after all. It does happen, though it happened a lot more often in Kanto. I moved here last June, right after I graduated from high school— just in time to start the island challenge."

"Where in Kanto did you live?" asked the female anchor, clearly trying to change the subject. Moon took mercy on her and went with it.

"Pallet Town. I went to high school in Viridian City."

"Oh, like Champion Red and Gym Leader Blue?"

"Yes, exactly like them." Moon decided against mentioning that she knew them; she wanted the balding anchor to be uncomfortable for a little longer, and the studio audience was still gawking over her pointed remark— but really, someone who worked in the media and interviewed people for a living ought to have known better than to ask something quite that rude.

After that the interview wound down, and Moon smiled and waved good-bye to the camera as it panned away from her and the studio audience. It took a few moments longer than she would have liked, but then the producer yelled, "And... cut to commercials!"

Kahili was walking over, expression mutinous; and Caroline followed, apprehensive. Moon recalled Puck, Ariel, and Hero and went to meet them halfway.

"What was that?" demanded Kahili, in a tone slightly louder than a whisper. "You've been the Champion for not even a day, and you're already being rude to reporters! You can't do that!"

"Yes, I can," said Moon firmly. "On subjects like that, I can and I will. I actually bothered answering the question this time because I don't really feel like answering it again. But I am so sick and fucking tired of answering that fucking question. From Kantonians it's a lot more pointed. It's usually something more like, why are you so dark-skinned and ugly? You get all skin colors here, so I sort of thought nobody was going to fucking ask about that kind of thing, but I guess I was wrong."

"It was still rude! You didn't have to answer him like that!"

There were people staring by now— producers mostly, but a few of the studio audience had paused, peering over to feed on the drama. Moon inhaled heavily, then let out a slow, measured breath. "No, I didn't have to," she agreed. "Excuse me."

She strode past Kahili and Caroline, and made her way back to the greenroom where she'd been made up for television, and sat down in front of the vanity to stare at her reflection in the mirror.

She'd sort of thought she was numb to that type of question, at this point. Moon hadn't been lying; she'd heard it often in Kanto. Teachers and neighbors and other people she had to deal with regularly tended to phrase it more politely. She couldn't reasonably take offense at the question, where were you born? That was something many people asked, regardless of the skin colors involved. But there was always another question in their eyes, one that wanted to know— why aren't you pale like the rest of us? or really, why do you live here, when you aren't pale like the rest of us? It was an assumption that stemmed from not believing that anyone who didn't look like them didn't belong; and as someone who hadn't belonged anywhere else, it hurt. She was used to that hurt. But her classmates, and sometimes complete strangers, were a lot ruder about it. How long have you lived here in Kanto? was one— again, not technically rude, but assuming that because she wasn't fair-skinned, she wasn't from Kanto. And with her classmates, it was sometimes said condescendingly, or with outright disdain. In Kanto, she had always been ugly and dark— a foreigner. A barbarian, she had heard Nana say once, though Nana had been talking about her mother, and she hadn't even meant it rudely; to her, it was just a statement of fact. The stupid thing was, Nana actually liked her mother. She just... didn't seem to understand that sometimes, the things that came out of her mouth were incredibly racist and frequently hurtful.

Rotom beeped quietly, and Moon frowned down at it because she had asked Rotom to stay on silent when she was in the interview; but what popped up on the screen was a text from Gladion, over Skypther which was free to use— if it had the unfortunate drawback of being unable to change usernames to reflect anything other than the initials of one's name.

Conversation: Moon Hawkins, Gladion Mohn

GM: Your brothers are weird.

Moon grinned. "Ah, now he sees it," she murmured, pulling up Rotom's camera app and posing.

MH: Picture Attachment: [*Muah*.png]

GM: ABORT ABORT BLUE SAW THAT ONE

MH: Omg tell him to stop looking at your phone!!!

GM: They're letting me stay at their apartment. I'm not going to be rude.

MH: Tell him I said he can eat a bag of dicks then. You're just conveying the message lmao

GM: I AM NOT GOING TO SAY THAT

MH: You're using a lot of capslock and also a surprising lack of punctuation. Should I be concerned

GM: YOU'RE VERY CUTE AND I AM FLUSTERED. LEAVE ME ALONE.

A soft, simple ache spread, from left-central breastbone outward to her shoulders, down to her stomach, up to her eyes; warmth prickled, and it was like phantom lips brushed against hers. Moon brought one hand up to her mouth, closing her eyes against stinging wetness and trying to recall kisses from only three days ago.

She almost typed out I miss you, but it seemed he'd just gotten to Kanto. She didn't want to say that when he'd only just left. It was true, of course; but it would be sort of pathetic to admit it right away.

There was a knock at the greenroom door. Moon hastily pressed a tissue to her eyes, mentally thanking the production team for waterproof mascara, and called, "Come in."

It was Caroline, wearing a determined expression— followed by Kahili, who just looked grumpy. Moon sighed, looking down. "I'm sorry," she muttered, the fight draining from her body. "I'm really sick of dealing with that kind of question, but I guess I could have been nicer about it."

There was a long pause. Moon glanced up to see Caroline outright glaring at Kahili, who looked rather taken aback; but then the older woman sighed. "I owe you an apology."

Moon studied her for a few moments. "Well, don't hurt yourself," she said, only half joking; Kahili's expression looked as though someone were trying to pull her teeth.

"Be serious for a moment, please," the woman snapped immediately, then sighed. "Sorry. Again. Miss Palmer explained a concept called, er— microaggressions. To me, and also to the anchors by virtue of raising her voice just loudly enough that they overheard it. I didn't understand what was happening."

Moon blinked at her, then at Caroline. The girl shrugged. "My stepmom is black. You pick shit up."

"And I suppose," said Kahili, with an air of someone conceding a great favor, "that it's better if you make it clear fairly early on what you will and won't tolerate from the media. I still wish you had found a more tactful way to do it, but I believe I understand why you reacted the way you did." She paused. "And I shouldn't have berated you in public. That was... unprofessional."

"Um, it's fine, apology accepted," said Moon immediately. Kahili looked so uncomfortable that she felt she had to put the woman out of her misery. "Um, is there anything else you needed?"

"Not immediately. I will brief you at the League regarding the press conference." Kahili consulted her phone. "It's just after seven-thirty. Please be at the League by eight forty-five to begin your workday. I believe you have three scheduled battles and you are likely to have some walk-ins, as well. Discussing your metagame in public will do that."

"Should I not have said anything?"

Kahili shook her head. "It's up to you. It's just a side effect of which you should be aware. I will see you at the League, then?"

"Yeah, see you in a bit."

The woman nodded. "Until then." She walked out of the greenroom.

"What am I paying you again?" Moon asked Caroline, once she was sure Kahili was out of earshot.

"Um— it works out to like, a hundred and fifteen thousand Poké a week."

"Make it a hundred and fifty thousand, because she like, hates me for some reason and you literally made her apologize. You're completely fucking magical. How did you do it?"

"She doesn't hate you," said Caroline, rolling her eyes. "She's just been dealing with the press since she was like, thirteen, and she's a little old-fashioned in how she deals with them. Plus her fame is different from yours. She was famous for golf before Pokémon battles. And you're like... um, how do I say this. You said on set that your one Pokémon would wreck the studio if you let her out, right?"

"Right."

"Well, you kind of do that by like, existing as yourself. Not necessarily in a bad way! Like, I am a teenager who is now going to be making like, more than most adults do, once all the legal stuff and the banking stuff is sorted out. But you're like, a walking whirlwind. You come in and casually rearrange people's lives. So sometimes they're kind of— well, okay, it's just her, but Kahili's trying to deal with that."

"With... me rearranging her life? But I'm not."

"You are, a little. She told me she had no idea you hired me until yesterday, which was not very nice of you, by the way."

"Would it have made sense for me to tell her before I was technically the Champion?"

"No," allowed Caroline reluctantly. "But she probably was expecting to do all of my job, and now she doesn't have to so it leaves her with some free time, especially at the beginning when a lot of the League press is going to be about you because you're new and exciting as well as the most important person there. So she's kind of antsy, because she's not used to having that kind of free time."

Moon sighed. "If she really wants more shit to do, maybe I can bribe her into helping Olivia," she muttered. "Have her do some of Nanu's kahuna shit, so Olivia can focus on her own."

"She could be the next kahuna?" Caroline's eyes went round.

"Absolutely fucking not. Um— listen, this is more on the personal side of things and you can't tell anybody, but I guess part of me being the Champion is that now I'm like, low-key an official representative of the Alolan people to like... the legendary Pokémon of Alola, but also all legendaries. By which I mean Solgaleo and Lunala mostly, but if Arceus showed up here I'd probably have to be the person to talk to him. So on that end of things I'm like, a bridge between the Elite Four, who deal with strictly battles but are still important, and the kahunas, who deal with both human and Pokémon stuff. Anyway, the point is that I know who the next kahuna of Ula'ula Island is going to be, and that's private information so I can't tell you, but it's definitely not Kahili."

Caroline stared at her, then slowly closed her eyes. "I thank all of those gods that I have to be at school in half an hour, because it means I don't have time to have questions about all of the things you just said."

"Oh, shit, are you going to be late?"

"Only a few minutes, and I've got a permission slip from my mom."

"I can write you like, a job shadowing type pass thing? Like, saying this is an academic internship related to your future studies, so you can get out of class whenever."

"We'll discuss it when we've finished setting up direct deposit," said Caroline firmly, though she looked pleased. "Anyway, I've got to go. See you at three."

"Will you be out of school by then?"

"I'm done by two-thirty and it only takes about half an hour to get from Malie City to League Town. I'll be there."

She left as well, and so did Moon. Remembering Kahili's annoyance about her lack of professional clothing, she went home first to try and find something that wasn't a tank top and leggings to wear to the conference. There wasn't much. Nana would have been delighted if she wore her kimonos, but they were needlessly formal for a press conference. And it might be a bit tacky to promote her Kantonian roots immediately after calling a reporter out for being racist and, in the same breath, subtly implying that most Kantonians were also racist. They weren't, or at least they didn't intend to be; but most racism happened by accident in that people didn't realize they were doing it. She might get some flack for the statement anyway, if Kanto bothered to notice her in the first place.

In the end she settled on a skirt that had been part of her school uniform in Kanto— plain black, knee-length with pleats. Worn over leggings, it looked less like a school uniform and more like a deliberate fashion choice. A boldly floral blouse, bought the last time she'd gone shopping with her mother, completed the outfit; and she threw on a jacket for the cold of Mount Lanakila and took off on Charizard, headed out for her first day on the job.

* * * * *

Kahili eyed her when she walked in, at eight forty-seven exactly. "Not bad," she said finally, "but you're going to need to go shopping."

"Oh, god, I know," groaned Moon. "I can go over the weekend, I guess?"

Kahili pursed her lips. "I need to come with you," she said finally, "but I've been informed by multiple sources that my idea of fashion is generally rather boring, and you're going to need a variety of different types of clothing."

"Caroline could come."

Kahili nodded. "She has a better understanding of you than I do." She coughed. "A better understanding of your generation, I should say."

That was fair. "Should anyone else come?"

"You can invite anyone you like."

"My mom, probably. And my friend Lillie." Moon chewed on her lip. "Maybe my friends Molly and Rogelio, they know more about fashion than I do. If we go shopping at Aether, Amelia Wicke might have some suggestions, and she always looks nice and professional so I'd trust her."

"That's fine. We can arrange for it."

The day began, and then wore on. She had been expecting a bit more of... well, a challenge, from the day's challengers; but none of them posed any true difficulty and she was able to defeat all three scheduled, plus four walk-ins, with ease.

She tried to be kind when she defeated them, though. Moon had always heard that criticism ought to be sandwiched between praises; so she tried to give each defeated challenger a compliment on something they did well, followed by a suggestion on how they could improve, and finally telling them that she enjoyed the battle— because she did enjoy the battles, even if they weren't particularly difficult. It seemed to work, because the challengers usually left with smiles, or at the very least a certain briskness to their steps that suggested pride. Moon hoped, if anything, that she could give each of them something to be proud of.

The press were gathering in the main lobby of the League, because it was simply too damn cold outside to hold a press conference out-of-doors even though the lighting would be better. The League film crew directed various camerapeople to their seats, with their assigned reporters. Moon spotted Lara LaRue and Josh whatever-his-name-was skulking in the very back row, looking displeased with their seating assignment and glaring daggers at Caroline, who eyed them with disdain and folded arms. On Moon's right hand sat Molayne, Kahili, and Acerola; on her left sat Hala, Olivia, Nanu, and Hapu. Both Kahili and Nanu looked as though they did not wish to be present, though Moon suspected this was for very different reasons. Olivia, as per usual, looked tired. Luckily, Molayne, Acerola, and Hala were loud and chipper, chatting before the conference started and drawing the attention of the press (and thereby drawing it away from the others) to themselves. Hapu occasionally interjected, with some dry witticism or impressively intellectual phrasing that seemed to bemuse the press. Moon noticed that Hapu's mouth curled up slightly every time she visibly confused a reporter, and decided that Hapu was going to be the role model she followed for public appearances from then on. Caroline leaned on the wall, looking around at all of the reporters with something like hero worship in her eyes; there were a few people specifically on whom her eyes lingered, and Moon would have bet any money in her pockets at the moment that they were the writers for the online celebrity news webzine that her publicist liked.

Finally, Kahili rose to her feet, and the hubbub died at once, though there were still bright flashes of light from the pictures being taken. "Good afternoon," she said calmly, into the microphone. "Welcome to the Alolan League Headquarters. I'm Kahili Hano, a member of the Elite Four, and I will be moderating this press conference. With me today are former trial captains Molayne Parker and Acerola Kaiulani, who are now part of the Elite Four; and Kahunas Hala Akiona, Olivia Wala'e, Ishmael Nanu, and Hapu Kahonua. Kahuna Olivia is also serving as a temporary member of the Elite Four, until we are able to find another candidate to fill the position. And of course, today we are very pleased to introduce to you Champion Moon Hawkins of the Alola League."

She gestured for Moon to stand. Moon awkwardly smoothed down her skirt as she stood, to a polite round of applause from the reporters.

"The League is now open for appropriate questions." This was said with a distinctly fishy eye, cast over in the direction of Lara LaRue and her cameraman. "You have one hour."

Hands shot up over the entire room.

Kahili pondered them for a few moments, then said clearly, "Alolan National News."

"We'd like to ask Champion Moon if she would be willing to clarify the statement about her heritage she made to Brandon Colten on Good Morning, Alola!—"

Moon felt a tiny piece of her soul cringe, shrivel up, and wither away. It was going to be a long, long hour.

* * * * *

Skypther Conversation: Moon Hawkins, Gladion Mohn

MH: Lmao so I fucked up

GM: ?

MH: https://www.alolaleague.org/presscon/2_27

GM: This video is an hour and a half long.

MH: Ok fair

MH: https://www.pokétube.com/********

GM: Oh.

GM: All right, so you told a room of reporters that if they were going to constantly ask personal questions that were none of their business, they were going to get personal answers they probably didn't want to know about?

MH: Wait for it

GM: Oh.

GM: Well, if being the Champion doesn't work out, you definitely have a future in stand-up comedy. Red and Blue are both crying with laughter.

MH: Oh my god youre no help at all lmao

GM: I'm sorry.

MH: I didn't mean it like in a mean way haha, I know it's funny

MH: Both Kahili and Caroline yelled at me for like fifteen minutes straight, and Hala and Olivia had these expression on their faces that meant they were like, torn between being disappointed and amused

GM: What about everyone else?

MH: Molayne and Nanu thought it was hilarious, Hapu was kind of grossed out but seems to approve of fucking with the press on principle, and you saw Acerola was being a troll during the actual thing so she just ghosted out afterward so they couldnt yell at her

MH: Tbh I wish I could do that

GM: Puck is a Ghost-type. Perhaps he can learn to walk in the void?

MH: I did ask Acerola about that but she said usually its only Pokémon with primary ghost-typing that can do that. Plus a few others who are really strong, like marshadow

GM: ...Marshadow isn't a primary Ghost-type?

MH: I literally said the same thing lmao I love our shared braincell

MH: But no, hes actually fighting and ghost??? I can't picture it b/c he's a complete baby butternut bean and I want to boop his nose, but yea

GM: Huh. You learn something new every day.

GM: Picture Attachment: [IMG617.png]

MH: OMG YOU PICKED BULBASAUR

MH: SO CUTE AND TINY I WANNA SQUISH

MH: WHAT DID YOU NAME THEM

GM: Her name is Persephone. I've just been calling her Perse, though.

MH: Like purse?

GM: ...yes, like purse.

MH: I love that its so cute

MH: I love you and you are also so cute

MH: Sorry for being clingy ive just been having A Day

GM: Please do not ever apologize for telling me you love me.

GM: Or having any kind of emotion.

GM: I've been in therapy for that. You can't help how you feel about things.

GM: Picture Attachments: [IMG618.png] [IMG619.png] [IMG620.png]

MH: OMFG MY DAY HAS IMPROVED IMMEASURABLY

MH: I HAVE A BOYFRIEND WHO SEES ME WANTING TO SQUISH HIS LITTLE BULBASAUR AND ASKS ONE OF MY PSEUDO OLDER BROTHERS TO HOLD THE CAMERA SO HE CAN POSE SQUISHING HER SOLELY FOR MY BENEFIT

MH: LIFE IS GREAT AND I LOVE EVERYTHING BUT YOU MOST OF ALL

GM: Except reporters.

MH: LIFE IS GREAT AND I LOVE EVERYTHING EXCEPT REPORTERS BUT YOU MOST OF ALL

GM: I'm glad I could help make your day better.

MH: You do that by existing tho??!? this is just a bonus

Skypther Conversation: Moon Hawkins, Gary Oak, Satoshi Red

GO: lmao moon u broke ur boyfie

MH: STFU

SR: I actually hate agreeing with him about something as silly as this, but Gladion is currently lying on our couch and staring at the ceiling and muttering something about sunshine.

GO: u forgot the most important part!!!!!

GO: Picture Attachment: [IMG8627.png]

GO: he's completely bright red!!!! aaaaa so cute

MH: Honestly shut your whole fuck im disowning u

GO: omg I BREATHED

* * * * *

Champion Moon Hawkins √ @moonhawk

hey so i'm sorry for getting so graphic at the presscon... but if you're disgusted by it consider how i feel about literal YEARS of (1/2)

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low-key racism directed my way. thx. —M (2/2)

1.9k likes 3.5k reChats

* * * * *

Alolan Pokémon League √ @aloleague

We would like to offer a formal apology to anyone offended by Champion Moon's remarks at today's press conference. No offense was intended.

2.4k likes 2.9k reChats

* * * * *

A WHOLE ASS MOON STAN @mudgayming

listen as a little brown boy who's also had to deal with some pretty demeaning shit, even from other brown people, i just wanna say that (1/4)

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@moonhawk GETS it. even if it's not ur race, even if it's ur gender or sexuality or disability or smth like that. hearing things like (2/4)

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that just fucking grates. its the actual worst. so if ur getting all up in arms about how she could have said it nicer? i hope u (3/4)

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forget to put on sunscreen next time u go out to enjoy the beach so u can remember that sunburn feeling. (4/4)

5.7k likes 4.2k reChats

ok damn this blew up

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im just a tiny brown gay boy who plays video games for a living, what r all u karens so pressed 4

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sorry did i say karens, dumb autocorrect. i meant "concerned citizens"

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anyway, here's my tortwich and pokétube channels, like n subscribe for me screaming at jumpscares and building dumb shit in digstuff

* * * * *

Champion Moon: Trainer, Activist, and... Stomach-Turning Philosopher?

In a highly memorable statement at the first Alolan League press conference, our new Champion made an incredible and highly memorable statement about racism, microaggressions, and unconscious bias.

"I got asked where I was from today," she said, in response to a question from the Alolan National News regarding her (well-deserved, in this reporter's opinion) shut-down of news anchor Brandon Colten, of Good Morning, Alola! fame.

"I've heard this question countless times," continued Hawkins. "It's incredible, how many people ask the same things, over and over and over again. They think they're being subtle about it, but what they really want to know is, why are you different from me? or why are you here, instead of with people who actually look like you? Most people aren't really thinking that when they ask the question, because it's like— it's an unconscious bias. You've always been raised with this sort of, us-versus-them kind of mentality, whether or not you recognize it. And the thing is, there isn't inherently anything wrong with bias. It's just a culmination of how you were raised and the various influences in your life. But you have to learn to control your biases. To control your own thoughts, words, and actions. Because if you don't, you say shit you don't mean and you hurt people's feelings."

Hawkins went on to say, "I grew up in Kanto, and I'm brown. Most Kantonians are pretty fair-skinned, you know? And I don't think any of them thought that they were being rude. It's just like, a statement of fact to them. I have darker skin. The rude part was when they implied that because I'm not fair-skinned, I don't belong in Kanto. That I must be from somewhere else, that I'm not one of them. Which is absolute bullf***ery. I was born in Viridian City Hospital and until last June, I lived in Pallet Town for my entire life. I was, still technically am, a Kantonian citizen, because I'm allowed to be a dual citizen until I turn twenty-one and it would be neat to be able to visit without needing a visa even though I fully plan on claiming Alolan citizenship when the time comes. In every way that legally mattered, I was a f****** Kantonian! But people in Kanto didn't see that. They looked at me and they saw, brown, and they thought, that means she doesn't belong here. It is a really, really s***** feeling when someone reminds you for the hundredth or thousandth or millionth time that they don't think you belong. And I thought when I came here that I wasn't going to have to deal with that anymore, because there are all kinds of people in Alola. Alolans, Kantonians, Unovans, Kalosians, Orreans, and so on. I came here and I thought, this is a place that will love me. This is a place that will say, yes, you belong here. So yeah, really nice to know I was wrong about that."

And then, in the most memorable statement of the entire press conference, Hawkins said simply this:

"I know it's not really what you asked, but it's important to me. Imagine you get sunburned. A light sunburn isn't much of a problem, right? This is Alola. People get sunburned all the time. You go outside for five minutes, the sun is right there, you get burned. Maybe your nose turns a little bit golden after a week, no problem. But if you go outside with no sunscreen and spend a whole day at the beach, you start feeling it by the time you leave. When you're in the water playing, it's hard to tell. But the second you leave the water and try to put on clothes, the irritation is there. It's a lot of little sunburns, all at once, becoming a really bad one. I have had just about enough of being sunburned, thank you very much. It is uncomfortable and painful and I hate it. So from now on, I'm going to make everyone who asks that kind of thing, or who wants to argue with me about it, feel how uncomfortable it is. It's like if you're sunburned and sitting in public, like on one of the ferries or just at the mall or whatever, and you start peeling off the burned skin and holding it out to people. Showing them. Look at this! See what it did? It hurt really bad, and it's kind of gross and I hate it as much as you do! Except you didn't notice it until I pointed it out to you, because you're not sunburned! So then you're just as uncomfortable as I am, and maybe you remember to put on your f****** sunscreen before you leave the house. The metaphor kind of dies there because as far as I know there isn't anything I can do to prevent other people from being f****** bigots, but maybe instead you remember, you know, not to be a f****** bigot. Because you want to look at my peeled, sunburnt skin just about as much as I want to show it to you."

The topic was changed shortly after, because Elite Four Kahili Hano was clearly embarrassed by the outburst, but Champion Moon made yet another controversial statement only a few minutes later.

"I'm here because I love Pokémon," she stated— a common sentiment of many Champions of other nations through the years, and an innocent beginning. "And I love battling, and I am really d*** good at it. But I like that Professor Kukui decided it was time to put the League together. Alola is a beautiful place, and I love it and consider it my home now. But I'm also here because I was asked to be, in a way. Alola has some issues— I can't get fully into them for legal reasons, but the kahunas and trial captains agree with me on this, they'll back me up. There wasn't really a— uniting human force, for lack of a better word, to try and fix those issues. The islands are separate. Beautiful, but separate. Part of my role as Champion is to address issues that affect the balance of the islands. If one island has a problem, it might be taken care of internally by a kahuna, but if that problem affects other islands, then the other kahunas have to get involved with it, on top of taking care of their own islands. That's too much work for one person." (This statement was made with a pointed stare at Kahuna Olivia, who is currently pulling double duty as both a Kahuna and a stand-in member of the Elite Four. Kahuna Olivia visibly rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she did so; her opinion on Moon's statement seems to indicate agreement.)

Champion Hawkins went on to say, "I'm not saying that I can do a better job of this just because I'm the Champion. But to be the Champion, you have to be a strong Trainer. You have to be able to— to command the complete loyalty of your teammates. There has to be absolute trust there. They're trusting that you won't let them get hurt by being careless or arrogant. And that care for Pokémon, and whatever it is that inspires my teammates to be loyal to me? That's something that is needed in order to fix the issues that Alola has. You might not like me here, because I'm a young girl from another country who can't seem to stop running her mouth, but I am going to do a d*** good job at it because I refuse to give anything less than my best to this job."

At this point, Elite Four member and former trial captain Acerola Kaiulani stood on her chair, holding out her arms. Anyone who has met Elite Four Kaiulani is well aware that she is a medium as well as a Ghost-type specialist Trainer; she is able to commune supernaturally with the dead, both human and Pokémon. She has also been known for occasional bursts of precognition, as well as the ability to travel in what scientists call "the void," as a form of teleportation. The combination would be unnerving in an adult, but Elite Four Kaiulani is only thirteen years old. To be acquainted so well with death and darkness at such a young age is a chilling thought, but Elite Four Kaiulani defies all such expectations with continued optimism and energy.

Once Elite Four Kaiulani was standing with her arms outstretched and all attention on her, she closed her eyes and opened them to reveal complete pitch-blackness. This happens when she communes with the dead— not an unusual sight, but an altogether unsettling one. The assorted members of the press, as well as a wide-eyed Champion and the rest of the kahunas and the Elite Four, waited on tenterhooks to hear what she had to say:

"You'll take what you get and be grateful, motherf*****s. She almost went to Kalos, and if she had we'd have been f***ed."

At this point, Elite Four Kaiulani's eyes returned to normal, and she put her arms down before saying simply, "That was a message from a friend."

It was an interesting press conference, that was for sure. This publication has speculated about Champion Hawkins for some time, even before she became the Champion. Many of our regular readers know her from Kahuna Hapu's ceremony video, where she read and commented on the press-submitted questions— making this not the first or second time she has condemned the press, but possibly the third, or even the fourth. Champion Hawkins was also spotted arriving at the Aether Paradise by med-evac helicopter in late December, though she since seems to have recovered from any injuries she had sustained at the time.

One thing is for sure: Champion Hawkins is not what any of us expected, but she may be exactly what we need. It's been a while since Alolans have been uncomfortable enough to think about things like racism and microaggressions. We at the Alola Announcer will await Champion Hawkins' actions with interest and enthusiastic support for her intelligence, wit, and honesty.

—Esther McCulloch, The Alola Announcer

* * * * *

Chapter Text

* * * * *

The first "kahuna lesson" had gone something like this:

1. Hau stepping into his gramps' office, a little shy and a little nervous, and his gramps looking at him for a few seconds before standing up, striding across the office in about three steps, and wrapping him up in a huge, tight hug.

2. Hau and his gramps crying on each other for like, at least thirty minutes

3. Hau asking the question that had been on his mind ever since he'd gone to the Altar of the Moone with Moon and learned that it wasn't just Moon who was special, that it wasn't just Lillie who was special— that it was him and Gladion, too:

"How long did you know?"

They'd long since moved to the squashy sofa, and even though he was a good five or six inches taller than when he'd left on his journey, he was still shorter than his father and grandfather— admittedly, not by much— and he was now tucked under Gramps' arm, like a little kid.

It felt nice. He'd been a real adult for what, eight-ish months? But some things didn't change. When you had a great family (and he had to clarify that now, because he'd met Lusamine), you were always welcome, and they would always let you be a kid for a minute, if you needed it.

There was a long quiet, but then Gramps cleared his throat. "Koko never stated it outright back then," he said, and there was a firm tone in his voice. "But he did... hint at it. Not with words. His attention seemed to be on you when he saw through my eyes— moreso than it might have been, otherwise. I first began to suspect it after your freshman year of high school."

"The summer of the Malasada Stone?" Hau grinned up at him.

"Indeed," said Gramps, "though not for the reasons you think. Do you remember the malasada-eating contest that you won?"

"Boy, do I."

"And do you remember your chief opponent in that contest?"

"Uh— yeah. Ricky Walu, he was the rugby captain that year."

"And do you remember other things that Ricky Walu said and did that year?"

Hau swallowed. "Well— yeah," he mumbled, looking down. "That kind of stuff, it— stays with you, you know. Even if it's like, not important or whatever."

"It is important," said Gramps softly. "It was important to me, and it was important to Koko. That year, Ricky Walu had been bullying some of the freshmen on the rugby team, yes?"

"Yeah."

"And you, also a freshman, stood up and told him to stop it, even though he was over a foot and at least a hundred pounds heavier than you."

Hau squirmed a little, suddenly uncomfortable. "Well, yeah."

"And then, when he laughed at you and did not stop, you broke the unspoken rule of the rugby team's initiatory hazing, and went to the coaches first— and then, when that did not work, you went to the principal; and then, when that did not work, you came to me."

"...yeah."

Gramps was quiet, for a few moments. "What's wrong, Hau?"

"I still feel kind of bad about that."

"Why?"

"I dunno, it was like— well, there was a reason I quit rugby after freshman year. None of the older guys would talk to me after Ricky got kicked off the team and we lost the playoffs."

"You did the right thing," said Gramps firmly. "I played rugby too, you know; and so did your dad. The hazing is meant to be friendly, not demeaning. Little things like having to put away equipment after practice, while seniors get to shower first. It was never meant for older boys to do things like order a smoothie and spill it on purpose, so that the young ones would have to clean it up. It was never meant to humiliate. You saw the difference, and you did what was right."

"I-I know that. It's just— it kinda hurts, still. That they didn't like me any more, because I did the right thing."

"Doing the right thing is not always easy. Sometimes it is very painful indeed." Gramps offered the driest, barest smile. "Do you think when Lillie and Gladion ran away from home, it was an easy decision?"

"Hell, no." The word burst out before he could stop it. "Sorry."

Gramps waved him off, laughter in his eyes. "It's fine, I know you've been hanging out with Gladion and Moon. But, to answer your question— it was that summer, when Koko began to take an interest in you. He was watching you grow, watching you deal with the repercussions of your choice. He watched you withdraw from your friends on the rugby team and draw closer to us, in response. He watched you focus your effort and energy on more academic pursuits, even though it was very clear that you missed rugby at first." He took a breath. "And he was watching me as well, because Koko is not human and so he does not always understand why I feel things the way I do. I was so proud of you, when you stood up for the younger boys. Even though it ended up being messy and you had to get me involved— which you should not have had to do— you remained steadfast in your protection of those who needed it. To Koko, it was puzzling that you should defend your peers— for Pokémon are firstly and foremostly beasts, and the law of beasts is that the strong survive and the weak do not."

"Wild Pokémon do what they must to survive," recited Hau, remembering.

"Indeed. So Koko was confused by it. But I was proud of you for it, so I had to explain to him that humans live by a different set of rules— that we believe it is honorable to protect one another, even from other humans. Rather like a parent Pokémon defending its nest and children."

Hau blinked at him. "You told him you're proud of me because I'm some kind of mama bear?"

At this Gramps laughed, long and loud. "No," he finally chuckled. "I told him I was proud of you because it meant I had raised your father well enough for him to be able to raise such a good person as you."

* * * * *

Later that day, when Lillie— brave, gorgeous, amazing Lillie— punched some kid in the face because he'd been talking shit, Hau thought he sort of understood why Gramps was proud of him for standing up for his fellow rugby freshmen. You didn't expect someone as ladylike and delicate-looking as Lillie to punch a kid; and you didn't expect a shrimpy little rugby freshman to stand up to a brick shithouse like Ricky Walu and tell him off for being a bully, initiatory hazing be damned.

A sense of amusement not his own flickered into his thoughts, as had frequently been the case of late. Hau went on with his life, but he let the amusement know that he saw it— that he felt it. And Tapu Koko, predictably, laughed back.

* * * * *

The first kahuna lesson had just been talking about their feelings, mostly. Hau wasn't really sure what to expect the next day for the second one, but he was very surprised to find Gramps in the kitchen, frowning at a book.

"Gramps?" he said uncertainly. "We've got a lesson now, right?"

"We do." Gramps smiled at him. "I heard you mention to Moon and Lillie last evening at dinner that you wished to try and make your own malasadas. I think it is a worthy endeavor."

Hau blinked at him for a few seconds. "I mean, sure," he said, walking over to the sink to wash his hands. "But what does that have to do with being a kahuna?"

"You'll figure it out."

Hau sighed. "You know how Moon gets annoyed when people don't tell her stuff?"

"Some things are best figured out on your own," said Gramps. "I could tell you exactly how to be a kahuna, but you wouldn't really learn it unless you are actually doing it. And the experience matters. Many of the lessons you receive from me will be about experiences, more than things to study."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense. Being a kahuna is mostly doing things, not studying them."

"Indeed." Gramps' eyes twinkled. "Koko says you find plenty of experiences on your own, so the best lessons will be to give you as many as you can handle."

The thing about baking was that you had to be good at it. Aunt Kap once said she'd tried making malasadas back in Kanto, but that they hadn't turned out very well. According to Moon, her mom wasn't much of a baker— a pretty good cook, like with savory meals and stuff; but not a baker, for sweets and pastry. His own mom was better at that. Lillie and Gladion didn't really bake or cook either, and Moon said her baking skill was just about limited to chocolate chip cookies made from the store-bought dough.

Gramps was a pretty good cook. Mom was better, but Gramps was decent. Hau could make pancakes, and a couple of other things; but when they looked at their malasadas after the fact— both of them burst out laughing.

"They're kind of... small."

"They didn't rise or puff up. They just look sad." Hau picked one up, dunked it in the bowl of sugar they'd prepared, and cautiously stuck it in his mouth. "Like, it's not that bad— it kind of just tastes like greasy sugar bread."

"Malasadas are, more or less, greasy sugar bread."

"Gramps! How very dare you."

They ended up feeding the batch to anyone who was willing to try one— which meant Hau's Pokémon, mostly. Poppy turned up her nose as she preferred fish, and Uila and Rumble didn't seem to like them after trying one apiece; but Sonar had two, Ollie had four, and BB ate the remaining fifteen. This wasn't that surprising— BB would eat literally anything if it smelled or looked edible, which was sometimes a problem because she'd eaten things she wasn't meant to eat before. Moon's Macbeth could eat sea-garbage no problem; Golisopod had iron stomachs and hardy constitutions. But Crabominable were a bit more delicate, despite (weirdly enough) being fairly closely biologically related to Golisopod.

Wow, he really had been spending a lot of time with Moon.

He still wasn't sure what he was meant to learn from the malasada-making, but maybe tomorrow— it would be Saturday, and there was some press conference thing at Aether so most people would be busy— he could try making another batch. He could invite Moon and Lillie over, make a day of it. That could be pretty fun.

* * * * *

Chat: the four musketeers

marvelous moon changed the chat name to missing gladion hours: open

heroic hau: ew

heroic hau: jk i miss him too

heroic hau: r u guys comin over 4 dinner?

marvelous moon: nah, we don't do fridays

marvelous moon: i think ur parents have like, date night?

heroic hau: o yea i forgot

heroic hau: we only all eat 2gether on mondays, thursdays, and saturdays

lovely lillie: Your parents still go on dates?

heroic hau: yea

heroic hau: like when they 1st got married they made a promise 2 each other that they would go on a date like, at least 1x a month

heroic hau: havent missed 1 yet in like 20 yrs of being married

heroic hau: theyre rlly cute abt it 2

heroic hau: i used 2 complain that they were gross or w/e

heroic hau: but then back when i was dating cassie she said "its cute they still do that, my parents never stop fighting"

heroic hau: tho she said it w/ a lot more profanity lol

lovely lillie: She's right, that's really sweet.

marvelous moon: My parents had something similar back in Kanto but they haven't done it here b/c dad is always tired when he gets home on friday nights

marvelous moon: But they video-call privately like twice a week, plus once a week with me if I'm there

lovely lillie: I wish I had a similar story about my parents, but... well.

marvelous moon: Well, I don't think Wicke's dating anybody but like... I bet Kukui and Burnet have some cute thing they do

lovely lillie: That's true. They visit each other and video-call all the time. ^u^

lovely lillie: Thanks for making me not feel so bad about my mother being, you know, my mother.

marvelous moon: That's what friends are for

heroic hau: hey moon i have a ?

marvelous moon: ...yes?

heroic hau: theres some big press conference thingy tmrw @ aether

heroic hau: gramps said ur not goin?

marvelous moon: I have been told to publicly cite stress/overwork

marvelous moon: Which is kind of BS. I've only been working for like 2 days

marvelous moon: But the tea

marvelous moon: Is twofold

heroic hau: o do tell

marvelous moon: A certain company president is making her first public appearance since she returned from ultra space, and Wicke thought it would be a good idea if the direct witnesses to that shitshow were not present

marvelous moon: That's me, Lillie, Gladion, and Guzma. None of us will be there

marvelous moon: And secondly, Kahili is still pissed off about yesterday and suggested that we need to have a Discussion (TM) about how to appropriately behave at press conferences and that I should limit my public appearances to what is strictly necessary until that happens

marvelous moon: Which I do not mind at all, because I've decided I hate press conferences.

marvelous moon: Caroline's forgiven me though, which is great. I mind Caroline being mad at me more than I mind Kahili being mad at me

heroic hau: low-key i kinda pity caroline

heroic hau: she's currently like the Designated Moon Wrangler

marvelous moon: Omg

lovely lillie: She probably has had a rather difficult time with the fallout of your statements.

lovely lillie: What you said absolutely needed to be said, but that doesn't mean there weren't consequences for both Caroline and Kahili.

marvelous moon: You're right!!! Omg

marvelous moon: I should send both her and Kahili one of those edible bouquet thingies

marvelous moon: Where they like cut up different Berries and arrange them like flowers

lovely lillie: I think that would be an appropriate gesture. ^u^

heroic hau: yea theyd probs appreciate that

heroic hau: i know kahilis apparently a healthy living nut so shed probs love a berry bouquet

marvelous moon: Good good good

marvelous moon: I'm gonna work on that right now actually, and then I'm probably cramming food in my face and going straight to bed because I am actually pretty tired

marvelous moon: So good night lol

heroic hau: nice lmao. gn

lovely lillie: Sleep well, Moon! ^u^

* * * * *

Chat: <3

bae: If you aren't busy right now, would you like to go on a walk with me?

bae: It's a nice night, and Kapua is cleaning because she always does that before Yoshiro gets home.

bae: I asked if I could help, but she told me not to worry about it so I'm at a bit of a loss for what to do.

bae: But if you're busy, it's fine!!!! I can always just read, or something.

moi: ooh hell yea lemme just put shoes on and ill run downhill <3

bae: <3 ^u^

moi: oh god ouch my whole heart just went BABOOM BABOOM

bae: You're cute.

moi: shit im literally deadass blushing rn

moi: stop being so smooth lillie

moi: a man must breathe

* * * * *

Lillie was waiting for him on Aunt Kap's front porch, sitting on the steps. Hau had mostly been joking in text but his heartbeat really did stutter when he spotted her. She'd forgone the big hat, as it was a fairly cool evening; but she was wearing her hair loose instead of in braids, and some kind of... floaty dress thing.

Sue him, he didn't know anything about fashion. His girlfriend was beautiful and that's all there was to it.

"Hi," he said, grinning like an idiot probably.

Her cheeks warmed as she smiled back, standing up. "Hi, yourself."

For a couple of moments they just stood there, smiling at each other; but then Hau reached out and took her hand— marveling, as he always did, that Lillie actually existed and that she seemed to like him back. Lillie smiled even wider, and they began ambling down the road.

"Where did you want to go?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'm happy to go wherever, as long as I'm with you."

Ooh, that gave him the butterflies. Hau laughed, gave up on resisting temptation, and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. "My heart can't take much more of this. Have mercy on a mere mortal."

"I'm mortal, too," said Lillie, but she was laughing and blushing and ducking her head, which further agitated his butterflies.

They ended up walking toward Hau'oli City, passing the Pokémon Center and his old school. Hau thought of Ricky Walu and the whole rugby mess again, but quickly put it out of his mind.

"How did your lesson with your grandfather go?"

"We tried making malasadas but majorly failed." He opened his Dex and scrolled through the pictures to show her. "They just look sad and greasy. BB liked them though, she ate most of them."

"Oh, dear," laughed Lillie. "I guess you'll have to try again."

"Yeah, I guess. I was thinking of inviting you and Moon over tomorrow, since she's not working. I thought we could maybe try making them."

"None of us are really any good at baking."

"Moon makes a pretty mean chocolate chip cookie."

"Only if she buys the dough from the store," said Lillie dryly, "and that's only if the dough survives long enough to be made into cookies. Moon and Kapua both eat it raw, which I think is a little gross."

"Cookie dough is delicious, excuse you."

"There's raw egg in it."

Hau peered at her. "It's imitation egg. Most pre-packaged stuff is made with imitation egg."

Lillie blinked, surprised. "Oh," she said, after a few moments. "You know, that hadn't occurred to me. Whenever anyone made cookies back at the mansion, they used real eggs." She huffed a soft breath of laughter, though there was a note of bitterness in it. "On my more morbid days I used to wonder what type of Pokémon egg they were. It was probably Pidgey egg— that's what they base imitation egg on, isn't it?"

"If your parents or Wicke or whoever was buying locally, it was actually probably Wingull or Pikipek, they're both more common here."

"Oh."

Hau glanced around, but the street they were on was mostly deserted. He tugged on Lillie's hand, bringing her over to a slightly dimmer area, off the sidewalk; then he put both his hands around her face and made her look up at him.

"It's not morbid," he said seriously. She scoffed a little, but he leaned down and kissed her quickly. "Hey, stop that. It's not morbid, it's compassionate. You don't like hurting things, and the thought of eating a Pokémon's eggs, even if they weren't fertilized or whatever, was not a nice thought for you. It made you upset."

"I know it's silly," she mumbled.

"No, it's not silly, either. Cruelty and indifference to the pain of others hurts you because you're kind, babe. One of the kindest people I know."

He kissed her again. And then her eyelids, because there were tears welling up and he wanted to make her laugh instead; and then her nose because he knew that would make her laugh. The giggle was a bit watery, but it was there.

"I love you," he informed her. "Did you know they make cookie dough ice cream?"

"I was aware of this, yes."

"Have you ever had it before?"

"No."

"Do you wanna go get ice cream and try it?"

Lillie's eyes slowly opened, and the butterflies were not fluttering so much as straight up head-banging, probably to thrash metal or something like that. There was some kind of lepidopterological activity, anyway. (That was a twenty-dollar word; Moon would be proud.)

The point was, Lillie was so pretty that it hurt.

"If I don't like it, you can finish it, right?" she asked quietly, looking down and pressing her face against his heart.

Hau couldn't help but smile. "Of course," he said fondly. "I'm always happy to finish whatever food you don't want."

"Okay," she murmured, small against him. He had to kiss her again— just had to, don't question it. It was important. Lillie should be kissed like, all the time. But only if she wanted to be.

She seemed pretty okay with it, judging by the response. God, he liked her so much.

As it turned out, Lillie was fairly neutral about cookie dough ice cream. "It's good," she said thoughtfully, "but I still like black Razz berry better."

"And there's nothing wrong with that at all," Hau assured her. "It's not my favorite, either. Chocolate and peanut butter are just too good."

"What if they made a chocolate and peanut butter cookie dough ice cream?"

"You're a genius, and also I might actually die. Like, I might eat so much ice cream that I explode."

"What if they made malasada-flavored ice cream?"

Hau stared at her until she went pink. "How are you literally perfect?"

"Stop exaggerating."

"I'm not even exaggerating! How did I never think of malasada-flavored ice cream? It would be like— oh, I know, sometimes that Orrean chain that has a branch at Aether does like, vanilla ice cream with churros on the side? That's pretty good. It would be like that, but even better. Plus like... Aguav-berry jam, because Aguav berry is low-key the signature or default filling for malasadas. If you order plain malasadas, you have to specify no filling or you get Aguav jam. Oh man, malasada ice cream would be so good, though. Wow. I'm dating a galaxy brain."

"That's a meme, right?"

"Mhm. You pick it up quick."

* * * * *

It was still really too early to go home once they were done eating ice cream, so they wandered around Hau'oli City for a while. The mall was always fun— plenty of weird curios on display, some luxury clothes for the wealthier tourists, fast-food restaurants, and the occasional singer or musician busking by the fountain in the middle of the room. Hau dug a one-Poké coin out of his pocket and dropped it into the fountain.

"What's that for?"

"You drop a Poké in and make a wish. The mall collects whatever gets thrown in and donates it to charity. You have to do coins obviously, which means it ends up being small. But it's like, a little good-luck superstition or something."

"Mm." Lillie nodded once, then went through her own purse to look for coins. Hau waited, watching the way her lower lip curled back when she was concentrating— watching as a loose strand of hair fell into her face and she absently tucked it behind her ear. "Oh, here it is."

She held the one-Poké piece for a few moments, eyes closed; then she smiled and threw it in.

"Don't tell me what you wished for, it's bad luck," Hau advised her, as it seemed she'd never heard about wishing wells or fountains or anything like that.

"Hm. I think it will come true, though."

That was interesting, because usually Lillie was kind of a pessimist; but he didn't have any time to think about it anymore because she got up on her tiptoes and put her arms around his neck, pulling him down a little for a kiss.

She didn't often initiate kisses (though in the last couple of months it had been increasingly frequent) and Hau was surprised but all too willing to go with it.

Someone loudly cleared their throat nearby, and after a few seconds Lillie paused, turning her head slightly.

"Excuse me," said some lady. "There are children present."

Hau eyed the woman. She was pretty clearly of the "I want to speak to your manager" variety.

"My apologies," said Lillie lightly. "We'll get going."

The woman sniffed. The two kids behind her were squabbling over a video game system and clearly not paying Hau or Lillie the slightest bit of attention. "That would probably be for the best."

She was still frowning at them. Hau put one arm around Lillie's waist, because he could, and pointedly kissed her on the forehead before starting to turn away.

"Aren't you a little too old for her?"

"I'm aware that's how it looks," said Lillie tartly and more to the point, immediately— before Hau could so much as draw breath. "And I'm sure you feel like you're doing the right thing by speaking up, but firstly you're wrong, and secondly it isn't any of your business."

That was a pretty good summary, so Hau shrugged, nodded, and followed Lillie further into the mall.

"That is the second time in two days someone has implied that you're too old for me," she muttered, one hand clenching around his. "It's stupid. Why does nobody think I look my age?"

"I think it's more about me than about you," Hau admitted. "I'm a big dude."

"I suppose. It's just stupid, that's all."

"Don't pay attention to the Karen," Hau advised her. "They thrive off attention."

Lillie snorted. Moon and Hau had explained the "Karen" meme to both her and to Gladion, and they had all immediately agreed that while Lusamine had bigger issues, she was most definitely a "Karen" about some of the pettier things. "If you say so."

* * * * *

In the end they found themselves on the Hau'oli City marina, sitting on a bench and watching the world pass around them.

"I came here once," said Lillie reflectively. "On my own— by accident, kind of. It was back in the very beginning of your journey, when Moon took me clothes shopping."

"Oh, right." He remembered the pink dress she'd come back in; it still haunted his dreams sometimes.

"Trinh and Uilani were in the shop, and they made fun of me, and I was a bit more sensitive back then so I ran out crying. I ended up here without really realizing it."

"I'm sorry that happened to you."

"I've gotten over it," Lillie assured him. "It's just— interesting to think about. It feels like forever ago, but it was really only about... nine or ten months, I think."

"I can't believe I've known you for less than a year. It feels like you've been in my life forever."

She peeked up at him, hands fidgeting in her lap; Hau felt himself melting even further at Lillie's entire... well, Lillie-ness. "Like... we belong together?" she said shyly, lower lip pulling back as she worried at it with her teeth.

"Yeah," Hau agreed, mouth dry; he carefully turned, with his arm over her shoulder pulling her in closer, as the opposite hand lifted her chin. "Exactly like that."

She tasted like the ice cream they'd eaten, sweet and cool and lovely. Her skin, under his hands, was rose petals and silk and the expensive, impossibly soft blanket that he and Mel and Wiki had pooled together to buy for their mom a few Christmases back.

It used to be that he was a little intimidated by how utterly brittle and breakable she looked in his hands; but they had both learned that Lillie was stronger than all steels.

And these days, she did not look so thin or worn or unhappy. These days, there was a glow of something content in her eyes. When she looked at him it sparkled up warm and bright, fireworks in his stomach and mind; but even those were drowned out by the pulse of their heartbeats.

Pressed against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist, was a tiny white bird; and he would never, ever touch that bird with anything but the utmost care. No one would cage that bird ever again. And if any one tried— if a long-legged crane with haughty green eyes ventured close enough to peck once more— he would spread his own wings in her defense. A rooster, loud and obnoxious and, perhaps, not all that smart— but tenacious as a bulldog.

Hau had to breathe eventually, and he just— looked at Lillie. Listened to their shared breaths. Followed the rosy hue of cheeks back to her ears, down to her neck. Brushed his thumb, ever so gently, across pink lips that were now red, red, red. She let out a tiny sigh, eyes fluttering closed.

"I'm so glad," she murmured, almost inaudible. "I'm so glad I found you, Hau. I'm so grateful."

* * * * *

Chapter Text

* * * * *

Amelia was— and it sounded odd, that she could say this casually— used to electrocution. This was because, over the years, she had developed a variety of stress-related aches and pains; and rather than dropping hundreds of thousands of Poké every year on chiropractor visits or various pain medications, she had made the decision to adopt a Pokémon trained in transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation. That Pokémon had been a Mareep (at the time), which she jokingly named Nikola after the inventor of the Tesla coil. Nikola was an Ampharos now, but Wicke still sat down with her once a week to perform the TENS therapy. It wasn't even a luxury at this point; it was necessary for her health and well-being.

But not all of her years of TENS therapy had prepared her for the sheer pain of being tased.

The prongs hit her squarely in the back, and the jolts rocketed through her limbs. She tensed automatically, which made it worse; and the world buzzed louder and louder until it was a roar that threatened to swallow her entirely.

* * * * *

Heat snapped over her face, and she gasped for breath.

"That will do, Dr. Faba," said a cool, smooth voice.

Everything was pain, but Amelia managed, somehow, to crack open her eyes.

It was the ballroom, judging by the decor. She kept her eyes narrowed, squinting and blinking but using the opportunity to look around as much as she could, without moving her head.

There were a great many people in the room. Most of them were faces she knew, and all were concerning. This was mostly due to the weapons that the unfamiliar faces carried. Amelia wasn't familiar with different varieties of guns, but she was fairly certain that the grey-uniformed men carried some type of machine gun, in addition to coiled whips and some long sheathed blades— not swords, but too long to be simply knives.

Most of the guns were aimed vaguely at the floor around a huddled mass of teenagers in the center of the ballroom. She found herself, without even trying, looking for a few specific faces among them. Ki-moon was easy to spot first, with his dark hair amongst a rainbow; and there was Jeremiah next to him, looking sulky. But she could not find Almas's hair, dyed silvery-blonde; nor could she see hazel-green eyes, or beautifully structured cheekbones.

Suddenly her head whipped sideways; and the world spun. Amelia gasped out loud at the pain, not quite able to help it.

"Pay attention when I'm talking to you," sneered a familiar voice, "bitch."

Amelia slowly looked up, into the malevolent gaze of Marcus Faba. "Were you talking?" she said, attempting to sound languid. It came out rather hoarse. "I hadn't noticed."

His hand rose, and this time she had some warning but the slap still stung. She let her head turn with it, absently patting at her belt— but no, they had taken her tablet. Of course they had.

They hadn't taken her Pokémon, but all of Amelia's teammates were too large to let out discreetly. She wasn't about to allow them to defend her in a situation where they would, in all probability, be shot on sight.

"You disrespect me," said Faba, his voice growing shrill. "You disrespect my office and my job, you disrespect my superior education and intelligence, you disrespect everything I have worked so hard to gain? Well, look at you now—"

"Oh, Marcus, please," Amelia promptly interrupted him. She could see kahunas, trial captains, and Elite Four at the edges of the room— with more weapons trained upon them. Some were unconscious, and some were watching her with growing horror in their eyes as she projected her voice clearly, for everyone in the room to hear. "The hardest work you've ever done in your life is to cover up the fact that more competent people have been doing your job for you in the entire time you've been working here. And the hardest work you've done after that is how hard you've kissed President Mohn's ass to angle for positions for which you are neither qualified nor deserving. She let you have them because she thought it was funny, not because she actually thought you would— ah, perform well."

The innuendo was deliberate, and perhaps her phrasing was a touch puerile; but Amelia could see some members of Team Skull trying to hide smiles. Jeremiah outright buried his face into Ki-moon's shoulder; and again she wondered where Almas was. Uneasiness churned in her gut.

"You're just— you're just jealous!" screeched Faba. He had gone puce, eyes nearly popping from his skull. "Jealous, that I had more authority, that my work was prioritized more highly by the president—"

"You just told her what she wanted to hear." Her eyes searched, and— yes, there Lusamine was. She was silent and still and seemed to be unharmed, but her glittering eyes were fixed on Wicke. "You are ignorant, insufferable, and incompetent, and I have been cleaning up your messes and hers for years. Grow up, you parasitic ass."

Faba let out another screech, raising his hand again; but nearby, someone cleared their throat.

"Not that this isn't fascinating," said the cool, smooth voice again, "but Dr. Faba, surely you can't see that she's winding you up on purpose?"

"He makes it too easy," said Amelia, looking up at the unfamiliar man— or rather, men.

There were a few other men who were vaguely familiar, but it was these two who were closest, looking down at her with vague amusement in their faces. They looked eerily similar, with jet-black hair and eyes. Amelia knew that face; she'd grown up in Kanto, after all.

But there were two of them.

"Since Marcus has the slapping strength of an infant Togepi," she said, to more outraged squawking, "I don't think I'm actually seeing double. I must assume that one of you is Giovanni. Do you have a twin brother?"

They both let out dry huffs of laughter. "No," said the one on the left. "We're not twins. You can call me Van."

Amelia blinked for several moments; but then, finally, understanding dawned— though she did still have a few questions. "Multiverse, clone, or time travel?"

"Does it matter?" said the one on the right— that one was Giovanni, then. She studied him for a few more moments, realizing that there were, in fact, a few differences between them. They both had black hair, trimmed very short; but Giovanni's hair was ever-so-slightly greyer than Van's; and he did not stand quite as straight and tall.

"It does, actually," Van corrected his— self. Himself? No, the grammar implications would give Amelia even more of a headache. "Not the answer, of course— but the fact that she thought to ask the question." His black eyes met hers, intrigued. "We were under the impression that you were fussy, bureaucratic, and ignorant."

"I prefer organized to bureaucratic, but the rest sounds like projection," said Wicke, turning her head to look pointedly at Faba, who began screeching again. More of the Team Skull grunts were giggling quietly; you could always rely on teenagers to find insults funny, and she felt her heart lift a little at what comfort she could offer them at gunpoint.

"So it would seem," said Giovanni. They both studied her for a few moments. Amelia looked back at them, keeping her expression vaguely, pleasantly polite despite the pain that still pulsed through her muscles.

"You can't just let her say things like that!" shouted Faba, in the silence.

"As far as I can tell, she's not wrong," said Van, and his voice was flat. "And did I say you could speak?"

Faba's mouth snapped closed. Giovanni rolled his eyes, a lazy smirk flickering over his mouth before he turned back to Van. "This does change the plan, however."

"Quite." Van crouched before her, looking her directly in the eyes. "We were going to let Marcus kill you," he informed her. "He was so looking forward to it. But there are a few obstacles in the way. Firstly, it would seem that your tablet is somehow keyed to your biological signature, and we will need you alive to operate it. And secondly, you may prove useful, as you seem to be rather intelligent."

"In the interest of not dying," said Wicke steadily, "I am more than happy to cooperate in so far as I am able." She risked a glance at Faba, and found herself satisfied that he was thoroughly offended by Van's statement. "However, my cooperation is extremely conditional. If anyone here is harmed— especially the children— you will find that I am not only uncooperative, but hostile."

For a few moments, Van's gaze was oddly bright. "Ah," he said, sounding... disappointed. "You're an idealist. I had rather hoped I might find a lieutenant in you. My last one was killed several months ago. I'm not sure which of these brats did it, but I know it was one of them." He waved his hand back at Team Skull, without looking at them. "But I can see now that you're not likely to join me willingly, are you?"

"No, thank you. I would much prefer to watch you get increasingly annoyed with Marcus," said Wicke, keeping her tone light.

Van snorted. "Are you sure you won't join me? That has a touch of the sadistic about it, which I find I... rather like." He tilted his head to one side, watching her.

Amelia stared at him, for several long moments. This was— this was Van. Van, who wasn't Giovanni, but also was; and Van, who almost certainly was the leader of the Foxes; and Van, about whom she had heard all kinds of stories— from funny to morbid, from merely intimidating to downright terrifying.

"Just to be clear," she found herself saying— though a part of her mind that hadn't actually lost a grip on sanity was screaming shut up shut up SHUT UP— "was that a proposition?"

His head tilted slightly; his chin rose; a slight smirk lifted one corner of his mouth. "Would you change your mind if it was?"

Dear god, that was flirtation. A quick glance around the room told her that she was not the only person who was completely creeped out. Most of the Skulls were staring with wide eyes and slack jaws.

"Oh no, of course not." She kept her tone light. "But it's not every day an infamous criminal mastermind pays me that sort of attention. I must remember to tell my mother she was wrong about career women being unable to command interest from men."

"Your mother sounds like an idiot," said Van, and she saw he was visibly struggling not to laugh. "Despite your boring moral fortitude, you're rather charming. Not many women are brave enough to joke with me. Are you absolutely, entirely sure you won't join me?"

Wicke smiled thinly. "Absolutely, entirely, and utterly sure."

"How disappointing." He rose, and Amelia was aware of many shocked eyes upon her but chose to ignore them. "Giovanni, do you care to join me for a moment?"

"Gladly," returned the other, and the two of them walked further away to speak quietly for a few moments.

Amelia took the opportunity to scan the room. It seemed as though Acerola, Olivia, Maleko, and Elizabeth were fully unconscious, but the remaining kahunas, Kahili, and Molayne had been tased; they looked as bruised and exhausted as she felt, and she could see phantom ripples and shudders racking their frames the way they racked hers. The trial captains were a bit roughed-up, much like the Skulls; but otherwise unharmed.

And Sophocles was not among them, of course. Hopefully, he had gotten her message in time.

Amelia made direct eye contact with Molayne. There was something tight in his gray eyes, but she pressed the thought to the forefront of her mind, willing him to read it. She didn't dare even move her lips, lest she be thought to be conveying information; but she could, and did press her clenched right fist against her chest, as though struggling to catch her breath.

Her thumb rested between the forefinger and middle finger, directly facing Molayne. It was the Alolan Sign Language sign for the letter S; and he had been in the ASL class she had taken years ago with Samiyah so she knew he would understand her.

Ever so slowly, she brought her thumb further down and uncurled her fingers, until she had formed the sign for the letter O; then moved her hand down to her knee and let it dangle in the form of the letter P. And then P to H was a very simple transition.

Molayne's eyes sharpened, and he brought his chin down in the very slightest of nods. Amelia lifted the corner of her mouth in the ghost of a smile.

He shifted position, then, bringing his knees up to let his hands dangle slightly between them— an excellent position for concealing ASL communication, but one which Amelia, wearing a skirt as she usually did, could not copy. She offered a nod of her own, and his hands fluttered quickly— almost too quick to be seen, but she could make it out well enough, even though all the letters were extremely similar. M-O-O-N?

It was a good question, but Amelia had sent the video to Sophocles for a reason: firstly, his electronic devices were, much like hers, all encrypted; and secondly Sophocles would undoubtedly recruit Moon, but Moon probably didn't know that Sophocles wasn't at the press conference. And they would need Sophocles, to even attempt to mount any kind of rescue.

She had utter faith in Moon, however. One of the things she admired most about the young woman was her outstanding courage, and her seeming ability to make the impossible happen.

In answer to Molayne's question, she dipped her own chin, ever so slightly. He slowly closed his eyes, clearly exhaling.

Molayne shifted in place, legs returning to the ground; one hand rose, with an eye wary to his guards, to scratch at his chin— and when he was done, he brought it back down to his lap in such a way that Amelia was clearly able to recognize the ASL for thank you.

She brought one hand up to her forehead, closing her eyes as though in pain; and curled it down beneath her chin: you're welcome.

There was an odd expression in his eyes when she opened hers once more. She wasn't sure what it was, but the corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly, until it formed a lopsided sort of smile.

Before she could really think about it, her hands moved in two quick signs, ones she hadn't used since she'd actually learned ASL (for the benefit of several Aether employees originally, but it had served many uses since): fucking bored.

Molayne choked on nothing, face going pink as he rubbed his forehead with one hand.

"What was that?"

Amelia looked innocently up at Faba. "What was what?"

"That thing," he said loudly. "That thing you did with your hands."

The volume of his voice drew attention from Van and Giovanni, both of whom looked over in annoyance.

"What, this?" Amelia made the sign for fucking again, and now that everyone was looking at her she saw several more of Team Skull grin, or turn to giggle into their hands. She knew a few of them knew ASL— one of the younger girls was deaf, and there was a boy who was autistic and almost completely nonverbal. They both communicated solely through ASL, and their friends had learned in order to interpret for them. "It's just something I do for— ah, stress relief."

Molayne went from pink to red, bringing his legs back up and burying his head in his arms as he shook with silent laughter at the double innuendo. The few Skulls who understood ASL were similarly entertained.

"You did something else," insisted Faba. "You brought your hand up to your face."

"To scratch my nose?" Amelia raised an eyebrow at him. "In case you hadn't realized, I'm rather fidgety at the moment anyway. Being tased does that to a person."

She pretended to scratch around her collarbones, but moved her fingers to form the sign for bullshit. Molayne actually made a muffled noise, and several of Team Skull giggled audibly.

"I know you're doing something!" shrieked Faba, whirling around to point at the teenagers, all of whom assumed innocent expressions— some of which were just endearingly bad. "They wouldn't be laughing if they didn't think you were doing something!"

"Perhaps they were laughing at you," said Amelia sweetly. "You're the one acting like a concussed Magikarp."

"How dare you—" His voice rose an octave.

"All right, that's enough."

Everyone fell immediately silent as Giovanni spoke, striding back over to them with Van. The latter gazed at Amelia for a few moments, with none of the earlier amusement in his eyes. She quickly looked down at the ground.

"Ms. Wicke."

"Yes?"

"As amusing as I'm sure it is to insult Dr. Faba to his very face, I must ask you to stop. Now— Mr. Parker."

Amelia looked up, in time to see the goons holding guns directly to Molayne's head.

"Do you care to inform the rest of the class what you and Ms. Wicke were discussing?"

"Oh," said Molayne nonchalantly, as though there were not a gun pressed to his head. "I just asked her if she thought maybe Moon would come to the rescue."

"Moon?"

"Moon Hawkins," elaborated Molayne. "Alola's Champion."

"Oh, how very interesting," drawled Giovanni, turning to look at Amelia. "You see— I happen to know of Moon Hawkins. At least, I presume you are discussing the same Moon Hawkins who once lived in Pallet Town with Satoshi Red?"

"I thought you said she wouldn't be an issue," said Van to Faba, his voice tart.

"Sh-she won't be," said Faba quickly. "She's barely more than a child. All swagger, and no skill to back it up."

Because Giovanni was clearly aware that Wicke and Molayne had been talking in ASL, Amelia immediately signed bullshit again.

"And why is that bullshit, Ms. Wicke?" he said at once, still watching her.

"Moon Hawkins has defeated Dr. Faba in battle before," pointed out Amelia. "I would venture to state that Dr. Faba might more accurately describe himself with the phrase, 'all swagger, and no skill to back it up.' "

"While I am in absolute agreement with you," said Van silkily, ignoring Faba's outraged sputtering, "we did ask you to stop insulting Dr. Faba. You don't seem to be willing to show us that you are, as you claim, cooperating."

"I'm happy to cooperate," said Amelia, and then— because everything in her body was sore, and the only thing that was helping her to focus was seeing wary laughter in the eyes of children who had placed their trust in her— "as long as I don't have to cooperate with Dr. Faba. I've had quite enough of that as it is."

"Oh, that is it!" shouted Faba, stomping angrily toward her. "You annoying, fat, ugly bitch, you're going to get what's coming to you—"

"—after we give you permission," said Giovanni, without so much as turning to look at Faba.

"W-w-well, yes, of course, but you can't just let her say things like that!"

"Dr. Faba, at the moment we both find you far more annoying than we find Ms. Wicke. Do you understand the position that puts you in?" Van eyed Faba disdainfully. "If we decide you are no longer worth the investment we have made in you, then you might, if you're lucky, die quickly."

Amelia kept her face smooth and serene, though she was fighting to hide her own satisfaction. As always, it was far easier to let Marcus Faba hang himself by his own petard, than it was to go out of her way to convince people that he was an idiot.

"However," said Giovanni, and polished black shoes strode carefully across the room to stand before Amelia.

She waited a few moments before cautiously looking up at him.

"However," he repeated, "Ms. Wicke seems to have taken our temporary curiosity about her, as a sign that we would be willing to indulge her misbehavior."

Giovanni knelt before her, as Van had done a few moments ago. His eyes were cold, the ice in them filling her veins and stealing her breath.

"This is her mistake," he said, his voice quiet— and yet, so very loud in the silent room. "We do not indulge anyone. Not now— not ever. And those who show such blatant disrespect to us must, of course, be punished."

Amelia was afraid, of course. It would be stupid not to be afraid. Giovanni was known as the most infamous criminal mastermind in history for a reason. But she thought of the bravest people she knew: Lillie and Gladion. Almas. Moon and Hau. Molly, Rogelio, and a hundred and ten other teenagers sitting in the middle of the ballroom at gunpoint.

She could be brave like them, even for just a few moments.

She took a juddering breath, and steeled her shoulders even though the tension made them ache; and then she met Giovanni's eyes again. "Do your worst," she whispered. "I can be mannerly, but I will not be subservient."

At this he smiled outright, and reached out to place a hand under her chin. It was an oddly intimate gesture, one with which she was immediately extremely uncomfortable; and that was exactly why he had done it, judging by the way his smile widened. "Oh, it's going to be fun to break you."

* * * * *

They let Faba at her first.

Perhaps, reflected Amelia, it might have been to her benefit to be just a little more polite to Marcus. Perhaps if she hadn't made her disdain for him so obvious, he wouldn't dislike her quite so much; and perhaps she might not be in such a state.

But then again— she could not, despite everything, bring herself to regret a single, petty insult or inconvenience she had ever offered him. He might be standing over her, kicking and stomping on her face and shoulders and hands, inflicting pain that wracked and ricketed through every grinding bone and burning muscle as he cackled madly— but it was clear to everyone else in the room that Amelia had always been the one in control. Marcus's rage was little more than a mosquito's sting or a gnat's bite. But Amelia's rage—

— well, she could not lose herself in it just yet. But it was there. Waiting. Seething.

Someday, she was going to destroy Marcus Faba. Not with pain, no. Not with physical injury. That was just the body, and bodies could heal.

Amelia was going to destroy Marcus Faba down to his very soul. She was going to rip apart his personality, piece by piece, and expose him in a court of law for the nasty, petty, hypocritical piece of shit that he was. She would show the entire world that he was nothing, that he had always been nothing, that he would always be nothing; and she would ensure that his name was removed from every research paper that he had ever written— no, that every paper he had ever written, or even just edited or collaborated on, was withdrawn from academia. She would make sure that when he died, it was alone and forgotten and friendless. That he would not merit so much as a footnote in scientific history.

She thought that maybe part of her had hoped he was redeemable, until now. The man was an idiot, but idiots could generally be taught. In some ways, he was as much of a victim of Lusamine as she was. His ego was inflated beyond recognition, just because the president thought his prancing and puffing about was funny. He was playing with powers he could not control— a screaming man-child, holding live wires.

Perhaps it was not the most pleasant thought, but for once, Amelia was not going to take away his live wires and slap his wrist like usual. She was going to take those live wires and shove them up his ass, and watch as he jerked and drooled and pissed himself all over the carpet.

Figuratively speaking, that is.

* * * * *

At some point, Faba was made to stop. Amelia took the opportunity to take stock of her injuries: definitely a broken nose, at least six broken fingers. Possibly a broken jawbone. It felt twisted and wrong, as though it wanted to hang limply off her skull.

A large hand wrapped around her arm and jerked her roughly upright before she could so much as catch a breath. Something in the socket of her shoulder wrenched, and for the first time she hissed out a breath of pain.

"Ah," said a voice, sounding pleased. Van and Giovanni sounded a bit alike; she couldn't yet tell them apart because if she opened her eyes, she was fairly certain she would start crying, and she would absolutely not fucking cry. Not in front of Marcus fucking Faba.

"Where do you want her?" said a new voice, sounding bored. A new voice, unfortunately, was a new factor and she was still trying to play the game— so she slitted one eye open to look up and promptly closed it again.

Nobody should be allowed to have hair that red. That hurt just to look at.

"Well, I was going to have you bring her down to the sub-basement, but since I'm fairly certain you've dislocated her shoulder, it can wait for a few moments." Van or Giovanni again. "Thank you for your assistance, Lysandre— just put her down somewhere. Preferably nowhere with carpeting, or anywhere near my shoes."

"Mhm."

And then she was shoved, so that when she fell she landed on the hurt shoulder.

"Oh, even better," said Van-or-Giovanni, with a pleased hum. "She actually made a noise that time. Very good. What is your report?"

"Archie, Ghetsis, and Cyrus and their teams completed the task of locking facility employees and members of the press into apartments," said the new voice, still bored. "All of them are accounted for. There were ten enemy casualties in the initial assault, who have since been disposed of. I believe Archie took care of that specifically— he said something about Sharpedo chum."

"Very good. And the mansion sweep?"

There was a pause. "Despite my and Maxie's best efforts, there are three people still unaccounted for."

"I see." Giovanni-or-Van's voice was calm. "Do you have names?"

"I wouldn't have mentioned it unless I had them," said Lysandre, sounding mildly offended. "Two people missing are affiliated with Team Skull: Almas Karim and Guzma Mahelona. The other is a Dr. Iain Colress."

Amelia's heart thudded in her ears. Almas— Almas was safe.

"I know about Mahelona," said Giovanni-or-Van— but no, that was definitely Van, because of the Foxes. "I would have known if he were here; and he should count himself lucky that he's not, because if he were he would be dead. I don't take kindly to betrayal. In fact, the only reason his woman is alive is for leverage. Tell me more about Dr. Colress."

"Ghetsis seemed to think he wouldn't be a problem, but Faba has indicated otherwise. The man is a scientist from Unova. Faba had some cock-and-bull story about this world's Ghetsis, and we were able to ascertain that Colress served a three-year prison sentence in Unova, but all other information is protected by INTERPOL and your hackers... leave some things to be desired."

"Oh, I know," sighed Van. "It is a problem. Most things use modern technology these days, but the Foxes... well, let's just say they're a bit stuck in the past. The Rockets have been a little better about it, but I've never had much luck in recruiting intelligent followers. They never seem to want to join me. Well, I want Faba's squad on patrol, and if they run into any of the missing persons they are to subdue with all necessary force. I should prefer to keep Dr. Colress alive. I must admit to some curiosity about the conflicting accounts, and I wish to question him. But Mahelona and the girl are both disposable."

There was a sudden scuffling noise nearby, and Amelia knew exactly what it was— all that was left to be ascertained was who.

"Almas is a boy, you fucking twatwaffle!"

Of course it was Molly. She had wondered if perhaps it would be Jeremiah, but Ki-moon was probably forcing him to stay quiet. Both pride and rue welled in Amelia's heart— pride, in Molly's courage and integrity; and rue, for the punishment that would surely follow.

"Oh, this should be amusing," murmured Lysandre under his breath.

Amelia heard footsteps, and then they came to a halt. "I really ought to have done this earlier," remarked Van. "Plumeria, darling, do stand up and step away from the brats."

There was a long silence, but then a near-silent shuffling.

"Sit over there, if you please."

More footsteps, these much quieter.

"And then, let me see— the loudmouth, the fairy, and the whore." There was a pause. "That's Mariah, Rogelio, and Raquel, if I didn't make myself clear enough."

"I might sleep around, but I wouldn't even fuck you if you paid me," said Raquel calmly.

"Oh, how droll— you think I would be interested in the first place."

"Well, no," said Rogelio, and his voice was quieter. "Clearly you've got the hots for Ms. Wicke, which is understandable— if I liked women, she'd be a catch and a half."

"I do like women, and she's way out of my fucking league," agreed Molly.

"But she doesn't like you," continued Rogelio, "so it looks like you're going to have to suck on your own dick if you want to get any."

A resounding smack echoed across the ballroom; and then another.

"That will be quite enough of that," said Van. "You may sit over there. And you may sit over there. And you..."

It was not a smack this time, but a dull, meaty thud. Bone crunched, and Amelia winced in sympathy before her own injuries reminded her that anything more than breathing, and even sometimes that, was a very bad idea.

"It's very bold of you to assume I care what the little girl thinks she is. She's got a quim, so she's a girl."

There was a long, heavy breath. "Oh, lordy fuck, why am I like this," muttered Molly, in a slightly thick voice. "I guess that makes you a girl, then. Because you're a fucking pussy."

There was another, even meatier thud; and Molly cried out. The sound went to Amelia's heart, and she willed herself to move, to get up, to try and offer something, some sort of comfort— but the pain rolled in and ebbed, rolled in and ebbed, and she quelled the thought by promising, later.

"The next time any of you little brats talks back to me," said Van coolly, "I will not bother with the courtesy of slapping you around first; you'll just die. Is that clear?"

"It's clear," said Plumeria, "sir."

Her voice sounded calm, even bored; but Amelia had long since known that the colder Plumeria sounded, the angrier she was.

"Very good. The rest of you would do well to follow dear Plumeria's example."

* * * * *

After that, she lost track of time, only keeping count by the waves of pain. By the air that grated through her windpipe; and by any movement at all, jostling the broken bones of her nose.

"All right," announced Van, quite suddenly. "I think we ought to direct a few more questions to Ms. Wicke. Just to be sure."

Amelia had been keeping her eyes closed, but at this she cracked them open slightly.

"Oh, dear, what a mess you've made." He sounded gleeful. "It's almost poetic. Faba, with me."

Amelia closed her eyes again, bracing herself.

"About Moon Hawkins: when do you think she'll be coming to try and rescue you?"

"I have lost track of time," admitted Amelia. It came out raspy, slipping harsh and deep through damaged vocal chords— Faba had kicked her in the throat earlier. "If she has made any attempt to reach one of us and has been unable to get through, then it is likely that she is already on her way."

There was a pause. "And what," said Van, his voice even quieter, "of Gladion and Lillie Mohn?"

Amelia willed herself to breathe. "Gladion has gone to Kanto," she said, after a few aching breaths. "I don't doubt that has something to do with the timing of— all this. The Pokémon known as Silvally despises Marcus, with good reason."

"Ugh," grumbled Faba, and sharpness thudded into her stomach.

"That wasn't an insult, just an observation." Van sounded exasperated. "Do contain yourself, Faba."

"It was partly an insult," mumbled Amelia, because she didn't know when to shut up. "The last time Marcus saw Silvally, he pissed himself. It was spectacular."

Faba let out an outraged screech.

"All right, fine," sighed Van.

This time, the pain smashed into her chest— and she could not hold it in. Not this time. Something cracked, and a dull ache flowed as she tried to curl up, to protect herself.

"There you are," murmured Van, and she felt something foreign on her face— a hand, moving something sticky. The logical assumption was her hair, but she didn't want to think about why it was sticky. "That's what I was looking for. What of the girl?"

Amelia had to take a few moments because she could barely fucking breathe through the pain— but she took too long.

"Faba, a touch of encouragement?"

She opened her eyes, watching as the blood-stained white boot swung backward; then it came forward and she struck, grabbing at his ankle and just— wrenching, as hard as she could.

Faba toppled over, letting out a high-pitched shriek.

"Ha," sniggered a nearby voice. "She's a heap of blood and bones, and she still gets one over on this asshole."

"Do shut up, Archie," said Van. He sounded tired. "Amelia, why would you even bother?"

"Was g'na answer," she managed to cough out. "Jus— needed more time. Can' har'ly breathe."

"I see. I attributed the delay to taciturnity. My apologies."

It was so hard to resist the urge to roll her eyes, but she managed somehow. " 'S fine. Jus'— need a min."

"Of course."

"She sprained my ankle!" wailed Faba.

"Then go find an ice pack," said Van evenly; and the unspoken you idiot was so loud that Amelia was sure everyone in the room had heard it.

"If she's comin'," she began— it came out slurred, a little drunkenly. "If Moon's comin'— Lil'll be with'er."

"Oh, excellent." Van sounded pleased. "I didn't expect you to break so easily."

"Not broken." Somebody, please, shut her the hell up. "Pr'pare all y'want. Moon'll beat you in th'end."

"Your faith in her is adorable, if a bit tiresome."

Amelia didn't respond to that. Some things simply weren't worth responding to.

"In that case, we must prepare. Archie— find a computer somewhere, and get to work on outdoor surveillance. We have control of the mansion, so the missing individuals are likely outside."

"Righto."

"Maxie, you'll take... the trial captains, I think. They shouldn't give you much trouble."

"Understood."

"Cyrus, the kahunas and Elite Four. Make sure you're not both in the same area of the house."

"Mm."

"Who is left?"

"The president, the professors, and the brats," said Giovanni. She was beginning faintly pick out his accent, as being just a bit stronger than Van's. It made sense; Giovanni had been in Kanto, imprisoned; Van had been in Alola for at least three years, if she was remembering things correctly. Possibly in other places as well.

"Hm." There was a long pause. "The president has been... quite well-behaved. And the professors are unconscious. So I think Ghetsis ought to be able to take care of them."

"Do you doubt my competence?" demanded a new voice.

"After listening to you muttering to yourself under your breath? Entirely," said Van coolly. "But that's not your only assignment. You'll be in the room that leads to the basement laboratory. It is the only reasonable access point through which anyone will enter, and it is yours to guard. Can you handle that?"

"Oh, yes," agreed the voice.

Everything was growing distant— a bit foggy. Amelia huffed out a soft breath of bitter laughter.

"What's so amusing, Ms. Wicke?"

"You shouldn' be worried abou' reasonable access points." It wasn't all that funny; and it hurt to laugh. Amelia didn't know why she was laughing. "I's Moon Hawkins. 'F she deci's she wants t'get in, she'll make 'er own fuckin' access point, b'cause fuck you tha's why."

"Oh, my dear Ms. Wicke— may I call you Amelia? I shall call you Amelia. That is why we have taken rulers, kings, and leaders of other worlds, and brought them here. They have weapons with them— legendary Pokémon, the likes of which an extraordinarily skilled Trainer may not hope to defeat with no legendary Pokémon of her own. Moon Hawkins may be talented enough to become a regional champion, but do you truly think she will be able to defeat Groudon, Kyogre, Palkia, Reshiram, Yveltal, and Mewtwo?"

Amelia considered it. "The great thing 'bout Moon," she said, after a few moments, "is tha' she knows—"

Darkness was spotting the edges of her vision, and she thought of Moon, calmly informing them that she had pressed every Z-Crystal she owned into the head of a broken god.

"That she knows what, Amelia?"

"She knows," breathed Amelia, closing her eyes, "when not to fight."

"Hm." There was a pause. "Faba, you may continue."

There was one last cloudburst of pain, and then she knew no more.

* * * * *

She became aware that everything was still pain, that her face was destroyed and her ribs were cracked and most of her fingers were useless; but she was also aware of an air flow around her ankles, and a limpness to each limb that suggested she was no longer on a solid surface.

"I don't doubt that he doesn't appreciate being used for manual labor," said Van's dry voice, "but he knows better than to disobey me. And it's not as though she presents much of a threat to anyone right now."

"Still," said Giovanni, "I would be easier in mind if you permitted me to borrow him. We have identical genetic signatures, so the Master Ball will respond to both of us."

"It's hardly my fault you were unable to retain control of your own Mewtwo."

"I wasn't suggesting it was." Giovanni's voice was slightly sharp, and Amelia wondered if, perhaps, there was a wedge that could be driven there. "But she seemed thoroughly convinced that Hawkins will succeed, and unlike Faba she does not seem prone to bluster or exaggeration."

"She's also a woman, and an idealist." Van sounded derisive. "Optimism is for idiots. The only practical course of action is to assume you will face every obstacle, and to succinctly remove them all before proceeding."

"Which is why I would like to borrow Mewtwo. I am neither an idiot nor an optimist."

After a few moments, Van let out a quiet sigh. "Agreed. I will require his assistance to return to Po Town, of course. The Foxes do get terribly antsy if they aren't held on a tight leash, and there are a few remnant Team Skull children who might cause trouble if they think they can get away with it. But you will accompany me briefly, and then return here with Mewtwo."

"That is... acceptable." Giovanni sounded slightly cold. "Though I certainly hope you are not presuming to give me orders. This is my world, not yours."

"It may be your world," returned Van, "but we are all but the same person— and you know full well that you owe me for your— ah, reduced prison sentence."

There was a long pause.

"I do," said Giovanni, through gritted teeth.

Van didn't say anything in response. There were quiet footsteps, the sensation of air on ruined flesh and crumpled bone— and a third presence, one she could not quite identify.

"What of Faba?" said one of them finally. She wasn't sure which one. "What shall we do about him?"

"The man is an idiot," said the other bluntly. "Amelia had a very good point, about his being— ah, how did she phrase it? It was very amusing."

"Ignorant, insufferable, and incompetent?"

"Yes, just so. The alliteration was positively charming." Another pause. "He was useful as a key to the door, but... I hardly see any further use for him. A near-cripple was able to manually sprain his ankle."

"Still, he may yet provide some benefit. Entertainment, if nothing else. It might be diverting to pit him against Hawkins."

"Ah, yes." Whichever one was speaking sounded intrigued. "You know more of Hawkins than I do. Tell me."

"Mm, there isn't much to tell. I never met her personally. She is— some six years younger than Satoshi Red, I believe. They are close."

"Was it romantic?"

A snort. "Of course not. Red is shacked up with Gary Oak— my replacement as Kanto's gym leader."

"You know, I had quite forgotten we were a Gym Leader," said the other thoughtfully, and Wicke assumed this was Van. "It seems so very long ago. How was Hawkins special to him?"

"They have a sibling-type bond. She's bright. Bookish, really. I hadn't thought her the sort to be a regional Champion."

"Whether consciously or not, it seems as though the key to her success has largely been just that."

"Just what?"

"That people underestimate her. You didn't think she was a Champion type, but here she is. Faba didn't think she would be a problem, but she is probably here on the island already."

"Do you think?"

"You're the one who caught Amelia communicating with Mr. Parker. Think about it."

For a few moments there was silence, and then: "Ah. The missing trial captain."

"Parker's cousin," said Van. "And by all accounts, he's very good with technology. Archie has reported a hack into the Aether Paradise general firewall, but he's not competent enough to counter it."

"Why didn't you have Maxie on that duty, then?"

"Because I don't trust Archie not to try something with one of the captives. Many of them are moderately attractive women, and he is a womanizer."

"I think aggressive flirt might be more accurate, but I see your point. It is a weakness, certainly."

There was a soft whirring noise, followed by several beeps; then a pneumatic hiss and the slide of a door. Amelia recognized the noise immediately: this was Lusamine's bedroom door.

"The phallus is... interesting."

"The work of one of those miscreant brats, no doubt."

More whirs, beeps, and hisses; then, the gentle whine of an elevator engine.

The doors opened again, and cold air washed over Amelia.

"Oh, this is very pleasant," remarked one of them. "A bit spartan, perhaps; but certainly workable."

"I believe most of the contents have been removed. The company president apparently kept cryogenically preserved specimens before her mental breakdown."

"That would explain it. What should we do with her?"

"The president?"

"I couldn't possibly care less about what happens to her. I meant Ms. Wicke."

"Ah, yes. Is she still unconscious?"

She is not.

Amelia's eyes opened promptly, and she found herself looking at vibrant, violent, violet eyes.

"How long has she been awake?"

She came to once you left the large room.

Mewtwo's mind-voice sounded nothing at all like Nebby. There was something cold, almost robotic about it.

"She has been listening to us?"

She has. There was a pause— almost uncertain. Her mind is... well-organized, for a human.

"Really." Van, or perhaps Giovanni, sounded fascinated. "What makes you say that?"

Her body is broken and she holds back tears and screaming for the pain, but still she plots against you. She wonders how she may take the things she hears, and turn them to her benefit.

"Oh, my." Amelia found herself turned— she was floating, apparently— to face Van. There was something like regret on his face. "She really would have made a most admirable lieutenant, if only she could have been persuaded to see things my way. You have never shown interest in any human being besides Satoshi Red; that alone makes her remarkable."

Mewtwo did not respond to this, and she was slowly turned back around to face him. She met those furious eyes once, but immediately looked away. She would give him no reason to be threatened by her.

"Well, it's too bad, I suppose. Giovanni, perhaps you would contact Faba, and see if he can find some sort of cot or mattress for Amelia?"

"Are you going soft on her?" sneered Giovanni.

"Hardly. I am merely ensuring that she has the minimum requirements to stay alive. It wouldn't necessarily be a problem if she dies, but her tablet is keyed to her biological signature. Unless you have made some progress on that front?"

"I have been unable to subvert the code that will allow me to disregard the biological signature," admitted Giovanni. "I may need to take samples and test them."

"Well, just look at her. You'll hardly have any shortage of that."

Both of them laughed derisively.

* * * * *

At some point Faba did bring a cot, and was made to set it up in the corner— muttering about manual labor under his breath, at least until Giovanni overheard him.

"Mewtwo isn't complaining about manual labor," he said sharply. "You would do well to follow his example. He is of much more use to our cause than you."

"I was promised power!"

"And you thought it would be granted to you without earning it first?" Van shook his head. "You truly are delusional."

Faba's mouth opened, flapping helplessly. Amelia resisted the urge to giggle— primarily because she wasn't sure if it would cause her to start bleeding internally, but also because she didn't want to draw any further attention from Marcus. She was not entirely sure she would be able to survive any further injury.

You humans. So selfish, only thinking of yourselves.

Amelia peered at Mewtwo in alarm, but neither Van, Giovanni, nor Faba so much as turned in their direction. The communication had been for her ears alone.

She closed her eyes and tried to clearly think her response.

Yes, yes, I can hear you. He sounded impatient. I didn't say you could talk to me.

That was a pointed remark, so Amelia nodded slightly (despite the shudder of pain this caused) and subsided, turning her attention back to the others.

"Faba, you may go on patrol," said Van languidly. "Your assistance is... appreciated." He made the word sound more like barely tolerated, which was a tone she frequently took with Faba. Perhaps a bit too frequently, because he seemed to recognize the sarcasm. It was funny, because he actually looked a bit hurt.

Always tearing others down, delighting in pain. Mewtwo sounded disgusted.

That actually did bear responding to. Amelia took a deep breath, and whispered aloud; she knew he would hear her. "I am hardly the best of what humanity has to offer at the moment."

That statement impresses me much less than you may think it does. What is the point of human existence at all, if they will not try their very best at all times, the way Pokémon do?

It was actually a good point, and she acknowledged it mentally but still answered out loud— albeit too quietly to be overheard. "I meant that in a more personal way. A wounded Pokémon will lash out when it is in pain. I am not so very different."

Then you should not make any sort of pretense about being better or more powerful than us.

Amelia nodded again, through the pain. "I don't think I did."

There was a long pause. You did not, said Mewtwo finally. I suppose I am too used to humans claiming superiority.

"Understandable," she murmured. "Humans are the only creatures that arrogant."

Not the only creatures, but human arrogance certainly does not serve a biological function. It is therefore both disgusting and useless.

She was deposited on the cot, and when Mewtwo placed a paw on both Van's arm and Giovanni's, they disappeared— and Amelia was left alone.

She didn't have much time. She got to her feet, even though it made her feel like throwing up; and she limped as fast as she could over to the desk, where Giovanni had left her tablet.

He would know she had gotten up— she'd left very clear, bloody footprints on the floor, and more on the desk as she had to lean on it, and fingerprints on the tablet itself. There was nothing she could do about that. But she would take the punishment he would inevitably dole out, and she would bear it with some small measure of the courage with which the brave children, her brave children, lived at all times.

The tablet was plugged into several small devices, which had thrown windows up over the lockscreen. Amelia pulled all of them out, unlocked the tablet, and flicked through various notifications and programs until she found what she was looking for— a nifty bit of code that Captain Phyco had written for her, entitled Mimic.

The tablet was important— more or less vital to her work, a tool of organization and control. But it was still just a device. As long as the data contained therein could be moved or hidden or sent to the cloud— someone could destroy the tablet entirely and she could download everything onto a new one later.

Or, as Captain Phyco had explained as he wrote out the code, she could duplicate and replace the data— but incorrectly, so that it wouldn't function the way someone else would want it to function. Not unless they found the program hiding deep within the developer settings of the tablet, and entered the forty-three-digit code to end the program.

(Amelia had suggested naming it after the battle move. Captain Phyco had been amused enough to take her suggestion.)

She didn't bother plugging any of Giovanni's hacking devices back in— why do any more work than was strictly necessary, especially when each tap on the screen with her right hand sent pulses of pain down four broken fingers of the five. Only her middle finger had somehow been spared; somewhere in that was a very, very deep irony. A dark joke, that she might be able to laugh at later if she lived through this. An ultimate fuck-you, or perhaps in this case I'd-never-fuck-you.

She waited until Mimic had finished its work before swiping her hand clumsily across the entire screen to remove distinctive marks, turning around, and dragging herself back over to the cot. Her legs were largely unharmed, though one foot throbbed oddly when she put weight on it. Her skirt had been long since ripped, and both her skirt and sweater were patched with rusty brown or cherry red, as the case might have been. She'd seen her reflection briefly in the surface of the tablet and thought, with a sort of calm despair: my mother really was right; being a career woman has ensured that I definitely won't be able to catch a man, not looking like this.

What a stupid thought to die with.

* * * * *

Amelia vaguely awoke when Giovanni returned— mostly because he immediately demanded to know what she'd done to the tablet; but she simply closed her eyes again and ignored him until Mewtwo lifted her into the air and smacked her into the wall, eyes void of care.

"What did you do?"

She only smiled at him, knowing her mouth was full of blood from where she'd accidentally bitten down on her tongue. "If you kill me, you won't ever find out."

He stared at her, fury building in his eyes; but he seemed to take her point, and instead returned to work on the tablet. She had taken care to wipe away her bloody thumbprint from the locking sensor, so there would be no trace or hint as to how it would open; but she had the suspicion that neither Giovanni nor Van would have mounted an assault on the Paradise if they had not been entirely sure they had the technology necessary to take over and control everything. Mimic was, to be perfectly honest, more of a last-ditch option than anything else.

After that, things became a little strange. She thought she heard Faba's voice, but it could have been her imagination. Amelia had already lost track of time but now everything was measured in the excruciating, horrific sensation of every single one of her injuries. A breath was like being set on fire; a slight movement was like being buried in an avalanche.

Existence, for the moment, was pain.

* * * * *

On a spring day in Kanto, twenty years earlier, she stood in front of her family home with a small suitcase. Her mother, thin and worn and furious, stood in the doorway.

"You won't make it," she sneered. "You'll come crawling back, begging for my help. But by then, everyone suitable will already be married."

"Mother," said Amelia patiently, "the goal wasn't ever to get married. It would be a nice bonus, but I'm not counting on it in order to survive. I have no intention of leeching off any man, or to allow any man to control me with money. I've seen what it did to you." She tried to soften the harsh point. "I'll write you, if you like."

Her mother sniffed. "Don't bother, unless you're writing to tell me you're engaged."

Something broke, deep within. "In that case, I wish you farewell."

* * * * *

"Amelia Wicke?"

She rose from her seat in the exquisitely decorated parlor. "Dr. Mohn, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Arbutus Mohn smiled. His green eyes crinkled a little at the corners. "Likewise. You come very highly recommended. Let me show you to my office, and we can begin the interview."

As she followed through richly papered hallways, lined with gorgeous dark hardwood floors and furniture, Amelia caught a glimpse of two children, peering out at her from behind a door. They were both blonde and green-eyed. She offered them a smile, and a wink.

The little girl cautiously smiled back. The young boy did not, but something in his eyes warmed all the same.

* * * * *

"You're WORTHLESS!"

Amelia, Jamal, Pilar, and Kathleen all flinched, at the scream that pierced the entire office.

"He's just a stupid little boy! He has to be on Melemele, doesn't he? It's the closest one! Get the Stoutlands and FIND HIM!"

There was a long pause, and then a resounding smash, with a tinkle of glass. Then the door opened.

Lusamine's face was tranquil— almost pleasant. "Wicke, I shall require a new phone. Also, there is broken glass in my office. I'll be back in twenty minutes."

The moment she left their office-suite, Amelia stood. "Jamal, please order the latest model of smartphone for the president," she said curtly, putting her tablet in her pocket. "And Pilar, please call Janitorial Services."

"Good luck, Ms. Wicke," said Kathleen softly.

Amelia only acknowledged this with a nod, eyes already on the door through which Lusamine had exited. A monster had gone hunting— either for a young boy, or a little girl; and she was the only person who could stand in its path.

* * * * *

Lillie lay prone in the hospital bed, cheeks sunken and hollow. There was no color in her bloodless, waxy skin; and her very fingers looked like little pieces of chalk.

"How is she?"

Amelia fought to keep from losing her temper. She slowly turned to look at Lusamine, standing in the doorway.

Lusamine's eyes widened slightly, before assuming their usual expression.

"She is very sick, but she will live," said Wicke finally.

"The diagnosis?"

"An eating disorder— anorexia nervosa. She is underweight and malnourished, because she seems to have gotten the impression from somewhere that she is overweight." Wicke maintained eye contact, but of course Lusamine was shameless enough to stare back without regret. "The doctors recommend inpatient psychiatric care."

"Whatever for?"

"What?"

Lusamine's eyes narrowed slightly.

Amelia sighed. "I apologize," she said, controlling her voice. "Eating disorders are a mental health condition. They recommend psychiatric care because Lillie must re-learn to normalize her relationship with food, and that is difficult to accomplish without outside assistance."

"It will happen with time, I'm sure." Lusamine turned around, walking away.

Once the click of her heels had fully faded, Amelia allowed her fists to clench.

"I hate you," she said, almost inaudibly. "I hate you beyond anyone I have ever known. I will hate you until the end of time. I am going to enroll in community college and get a fucking associate's degree in psychology with all the free time I don't fucking have, and hope I can do enough with it to keep your precious children alive, because you've fucked them up to the point that I suspect neither of them particularly want to be. And someday, I am going to ensure that you suffer, for the fucking choices you've made."

* * * * *

Amelia opened the door of her office, showing Jeong Ki-moon outside. The boy made a beeline for his boyfriend, who had waited from last name Craigley, all the way through the alphabet to Jeong.

"Next up— Almas Karim?"

At first there was no movement, with Skulls glancing around and shuffling; but then from behind Jeremiah Craigley, a rather small teenager with blond hair peeked at her.

Amelia blinked. She was reminded, very abruptly, of Lillie— except the blond was rather more silver than true blond; and it was also clearly unnatural, judging by the warm bronze color of this child's skin— darker than Moon Hawkins, but lighter than Hau Akiona.

"It's okay," she heard Jeremiah say. "She's actually really nice, Al."

"She was okay about us," said Ki-moon, his voice much quieter. "I think she'll be okay about you."

After a few moments, Almas Karim timidly, but quickly crossed the room, eyes refusing to lift from the floor. Amelia closed the door for privacy, waiting until Almas had fully settled into the chair opposite her desk before speaking. Joy eyed Almas, evidently struck by pale hair; but the Bisharp seemed to decide there wasn't an immediate threat and went back to sharpening her blades on the floor.

"Hello," Amelia said politely. "How are you today?"

Almas's gaze flicked up to hers briefly, and she was surprised again by gorgeous, striking hazel-green eyes. "I'm all right," was the soft reply.

"I'm glad to hear it. To begin with, I have a medical form—"

There was a horrific screeching noise, as the chair thrust backwards. Justinian and Alouette both made protesting noises, Nikola jumped, and Joy hissed.

"W-why?" demanded Almas, voice rising almost hysterically, on the verge of tears. "Y-y-you don't need that! I'm on P-P-Plumeria's health i-insurance, she'll take care of me!"

"The doctor who has seen to the needs of Team Skull previously is located in Po Town," said Amelia. She kept her voice quiet and calm. "It is no longer a feasible option for you to make appointments there. The Aether medical department is more than qualified to take on any health concerns you may have."

This did not seem to comfort Almas, who half-rose from the chair, gaze darting toward the door. Amelia found her own eyes drawn to hands, clenched around the arms of the chair. White knuckles, chipped nail polish.

Chipped nail polish— and a certain androgyny of feature. She had been avoiding thinking of Almas as either a boy or a girl, because she simply couldn't tell; but these things, combined with their reaction, were clues that perhaps pointed to a different issue entirely. She knew a few similar people, mostly because the Aether Foundation had always striven to be an equal-opportunity employer.

She couldn't be absolutely sure, of course. Despite what many people believed, it wasn't polite to assume another person's gender, if one was experiencing doubt on the matter. But there was a way to avoid making assumptions— which was to simply ask.

"Almas," she said gently. "May I ask you for your pronouns?"

The gorgeous eyes widened. "Y-you—"

"I don't want to misgender you by accident." She offered a soft smile, folding her hands on her desk. "It would be dreadfully rude of me, wouldn't it?"

Almas blinked at her, for several long moments; then crumpled into tears.

"I'm- I'm- I'm a boy, and n-n-nobody's ever just a-asked like that, n-nobody ever— but then sometimes people d-do, but it's b-b-because they just want to t-tell me I'm wrong!"

"I can't imagine what that must feel like," murmured Amelia. "I'm so sorry. I promise you will not be treated that way here. I promise I will never allow anyone to treat you that wa—"

She hadn't even finished the sentence before she found her arms full of a shaking, sobbing boy: thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyousomuch.

* * * * *

"—where's her tablet? Sophocles, come play with this. She can control practically the entire Paradise from here. If you can hack it, we can get things ready for her—"

"It's a thumbprint sensor lock," Amelia croaked, struggling to turn and look.

"No, no," said Lillie, her voice rising. "Amelia, no—"

"You've got broken bones, don't sit up." That was a blurry Hau, holding a wary hand over her as though to try and stop her.

"All right." She gave up, falling back to the cot. "Bring the tablet over here, I'll unlock it for you."

She had to form the words very carefully— her lacerated tongue scraped against whichever teeth she still had, some of them broken and newly sharp.

The tablet appeared before her, held out by a pale blur that was bright red at the top— it had to be trial captain Sophocles Parker. Wicke looked at him for a few long moments, then reached out to press her thumb to the lock. He made as though to take it away, but she shook her head slightly, and he paused.

"There's a security program," she murmured. "I have to disable it, or it won't be of use to you."

Another nod. Amelia opened Mimic again and typed in the forty-three digit code, fingers moving automatically despite shrieking pain. The window opened, and she put the code to sleep before letting her hand fall limply back to the cot.

"A-Amelia?"

She cracked one eye open to see fuzzy silver and bronze— Almas, staring at her. He had never used her given name before, and something tender pulsed in her breastbone— maybe a cracked rib, but then maybe just pleasure at a greater level of intimacy with someone she cared for.

"Yes?" she said softly.

"Did you— did he really—"

"Which he, sweetheart?"

There was a resounding silence. Amelia closed her eyes and cursed the filter that had vanished the moment she had realized Marcus Faba had betrayed them to terrorists and criminals.

"U-um, Van." Almas's voice had gone up slightly, and he cleared his throat. "Jeremiah, h-he said that, um, Van, he, like..."

"Made advances," suggested Sophocles, his voice bland.

"What?" Lillie's voice, reflected Amelia, had the ability to go as flat and angry as Lusamine's could, in the same amount of time. It was an observation she never, ever planned on sharing with either of them.

"He said some extraordinarily silly things," she managed, after a few moments. "I— I shall tell you all about them later, but I am— not at my best, at the moment. Please forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive," said Lillie sharply. "Did he— did they hurt you, because you said no?"

"Oh, dear me, no." Amelia's gaze was drawn toward movement; there was Moon, with her Golisopod and Jolteon and Metagross— and a cowering Faba. When had he gotten here? It wasn't important. "No, it was mostly Marcus who did this. If it weren't for the fact that Van and Giovanni have at least fifteen years on me, and if I hadn't been raised in Kanto during his early rise to power— one could almost say Van was a gentleman."

There was a crackling noise, and Amelia's muscles tensed automatically as she thought of the taser; but then Faba slumped. Moon recalled her Jolteon and Metagross, and the Golisopod picked up an unconscious Faba with an expression rather like disdain on the insectoid face.

"Of course," Amelia added, as an afterthought, "that's rather what makes him terrifying, I think. That he is mannerly and civil, and yet the cause of so much suffering."

"Ms. Wicke," said Hau, with a bit of amusement in his voice, "do you know that's kind of what makes you terrifying, too? Not that you cause suffering, but that you're like— powerful."

She huffed out a breath of laughter, though instantly regretting it. "There is power," she murmured, closing her eyes once more. "And then, there is power."

* * * * *

Chapter Text

* * * * *

Pink-tinged water and small, solid objects she was purposefully not identifying were rinsing down the drain. Hau held the hose, directing water to places that weren't clean; Lillie murmured directions to him in a quiet voice, holding Moon's hands and standing in front of her so that they were both soaking wet.

Lysandre, crumpled and broken under the remains of the chandelier. Giovanni—

—being cleaned off her body right now, in a large biological hazard shower-room that was located in the medical wing of the Paradise proper, rather than the mansion. She could hear yelling next door, which indicated that Faba was receiving the same treatment from the Interpol agents who had finally arrived to apprehend him.

Her eyes followed something small and grey looking, as it rolled across the floor toward the drain; suddenly her stomach heaved, and she crumpled from Lillie's arms and retched everything in her stomach.

"Oh my god, Moon," she heard Lillie say. There was something helpless and broken in her friend's voice. "Hau—"

A warm hand rested on her back. "It's okay," said Hau softly. "Get it all out, Moon."

She heaved once more, but there was nothing left to purge. Just sickness, and an ache that wasn't limited to just her stomach.

"Anybody would have thrown up, you're okay." Her cousin again, kneeling in the pink water with her; and Lillie, doing likewise. "It's okay, Moon. It's okay."

"No, it's not!"

The shriek that rang through the room echoed in the damp. She even heard Faba pause briefly in his own yelling.

"It's not okay," she sobbed, "nothing's okay, it's all horrible—"

"Of course it's not okay!" Arms gathered her into solid warmth. "I guess I should have phrased that better. It's okay to not be okay, Moon. It's just me and Lillie here. You can let go. You're done now. It's over."

"You were so brave," said Lillie, and a gentle hand curled gently over her shoulder. "You did so well."

The ache deepened. "I was f-faking, it, it wasn't real. N-n-none of it was real. It was all— it was all b-bullshit. I was j-just making it up, not taking it seriously. Not until— not until—"

Not until she had seen human blood and bone that close. Not until she had been covered in it. Not until she had sent four men to their deaths, and caused the deaths of two others.

"Moon."

Hau's voice was firm, and she finally made herself look up at him. He was as soaked as she and Lillie were, and she cringed at seeing his hair.

He caught her gaze, and waved it off. "Eh, it'll dry. No worries. But Moon, listen. You might have gone like, super-theatrical with the plan. But Moon, it worked."

"And more importantly," said Lillie softly, behind her, "it made things easier."

"Easier? What do you mean, easier?"

"For Team Skull." Lillie shuffled closer, wrapping her arms around Moon from behind. "We're all around the same age, you know? But they've seen some horrible things, Moon. They'd been living in the same town as Van for years. They know what he's like."

Guilt racked her. "Oh, god."

"No, stop that!" Lillie sounded almost angry. "I can already hear you trying to downplay your own suffering, Moon. Don't you dare do that. Listen to me. They were sitting on a cold floor huddled together, at gunpoint, watching Molly bleeding and not getting to eat or drink or use the bathroom, for hours. They probably all thought they were going to die at any second, but none of them were putting up a big fuss about it— because they're used to that kind of thing. That's horrible, but you made it so it wasn't scary anymore. You didn't just save them, Moon. You saved them from even more nightmares than the ones they've already got."

"You helped them laugh," said Hau quietly. "And you took the burden of all that fear and horror on yourself. Don't you start thinking that we didn't notice, or that it's not our problem to worry about. We saw you go back in to talk to Lysandre, after Nebby and the other legendaries took care of Yveltal. We saw you face Giovanni and Mewtwo. And we saw you ask the Tapus to take care of— cleaning up, for lack of a better word." His grip on her tightened. "And we're seeing it now. We see how hard it is for you. Don't take that on all by yourself, Moon."

"We won't let you," said Lillie, her voice barely above a whisper. "Once you and Hau knew about my mother, you didn't let me carry that burden alone, either. Please— let us help."

Before Moon had come to Alola, she hadn't had friends besides Red or Blue— and they'd been dealing with their own problems. She had never felt like she could, or even that she should, burden them with her petty teenage worries— the kind that one didn't bring to one's parents.

She'd never before had friends who felt more like equals.

And it was this she cried for, as much as for the awful things that flashed through her mind with her eyes closed. She cried when Hau gently held her, rocking back and forth on the floor of the shower-room. She cried when Lillie stroked her hair and whispered soft words, the way one might soothe a crying child. And she cried until she felt sick, until her throat was dry and her eyes ached and her stomach felt raw and hollow and empty.

Hau and Lillie finished hosing Moon down, and they all closed their eyes and held their breath in order to submit to an aerial spray of strong disinfectant before leaving the shower-room, soaking wet. Faba was long since gone— Interpol was apparently questioning him.

"Are we not— drying off?" said Moon blankly.

"Of course we are, but not here." Lillie took one of her hands, and Hau took the other. "I asked Plumeria to send some extra clothes and things over to the apartment we stayed in after you and Hau and Gladion came to rescue me from Mother. I know you've just been hosed down, but that was more about biological contaminants and I thought you could run a bath."

"That— that sounds nice," admitted Moon, willing herself not to start crying again. "Um— what about my team? And Rotom?"

"Some of the veterinarian techs were taking care of them. Hero and Macbeth and Rotom got baths like you did, and they're all waiting at the apartment."

She closed her eyes. "Okay."

They didn't press her to speak until they got to the apartment. There was only the one bathroom, but Lillie had a key to a neighboring, empty apartment and Hau went to shower first while Lillie helped her peel off ruined clothes and get into the bath. In addition to fresh clothes— Moon suspected the donor was Plumeria herself, as they were similar in size— there was also a container of bubble bath, several plastic-wrapped bath bombs, and a few fistfuls of candy, with an accompanying note.

Hey, thanks for saving our lives. Here is a donation of unscented bubbles and some bath bombs. — Jeong Ki-moon & Team Skull

(It isn't much, but they really are grateful. Ki-moon hoards bath bombs like Sableye hoard gems. —Plumeria)

"That was nice of them," managed Moon.

"Plumeria understands what you did for them," said Lillie, examining the bath bombs. "Do you want one of these? They look quite nice."

"What scents are they?"

"Um— this pink one is Bounsweet Berry, and the yellow one says Ribombee Honey. And the brownish one is... Sudowoodo Pine."

"And the blue one?"

"Exeggutor Tropical Ocean."

Moon shrugged. "That one sounds okay."

She didn't really care which one was used. Lillie filled the tub while Moon sat in it. Being naked in front of Lillie bothered her a lot less than it probably should have, but she just felt kind of numb, even as hot water and piles of bubbles rose around her thighs and stomach.

But the bath bomb, oddly, helped. The blue dye swirled around and clouded through the fizzing water, and when she inhaled she smelled fruit— Pamtre berry was the strongest scent, but she could also smell Nanab and Sitrus berries. And there was an oddly salty smell to it as well.

"Lie back in the tub, Moon," said Lillie softly. "It smells nice, doesn't it?"

Moon nodded slowly, and laid back in the tub until she was surrounded by foam, fruit, and salt.

She closed her eyes, and felt a singing emptiness in her skull.

I'm sorry, she thought, hopefully directing it to whoever would listen. I don't mean to be a burden...

You are not a burden, said Nebby softly. What is it you need?

Moon thought about it for a few seconds. Did I do okay, she asked tiredly. Was it enough.

It was. Rest now— the human side of things will be more tiring for you. We will come if you call us.

"One more thing?"

She didn't realize she'd spoken out loud until Lillie said, "Yes?" cautiously.

"Sorry— um, talking to Nebby. In my brain. It's weird." But it was easier to talk out loud. "Um, the Pokémon that those men had? The ones that the Tapus took? What's happening with them?"

All were set free. The other gods were sent back to their home worlds through doors that Sol and I made, answered Nebby— for Lillie to hear as well, by the way her eyebrows rose. The others were sent to the wildest parts of each island. They have no wish to rejoin human Trainers, and we will respect that.

"Yeah, that's— that's totally fine, god knows they probably deserve it. The shit they must have seen." Moon closed her eyes, satisfied. "Thanks."

I thought you might ask about the humans.

"No, I—" She felt her voice catch. "Whatever the Tapus did with them, I probably don't want to know the details. As long as I never have to see or hear about them again."

I think that is probably for the best, said Nebby, amused. I will leave you to it.

"Hey, Nebby?"

Yes?

"Thank you."

You're welcome.

* * * * *

The press conference in the evening was kind of horrible, to be honest. Kahili gave her a script (and was polite enough not to say anything like do not deviate from the exact words I have written or I will kill you slowly, but Moon could read it in her eyes and she was too tired to be sassy about it), so she sat at the center of the table and read the fucking script. Hala and Olivia were on the left, and Nanu and Hapu were on the right. Most of the press had been locked in various apartment buildings all day and were shaken, but otherwise unharmed; and nobody asked terribly rude questions because Kahili didn't offer anyone an opportunity to ask questions. Moon wasn't sure whether this was because Kahili thought a Q&A was unnecessary, or because she didn't trust Moon to answer questions immediately. Frankly, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know; and there were other things to worry about.

Like how Wicke was still in surgery. Aether had brought a plastic surgeon from Malie City by helicopter. One of the regular doctors had put her shoulder back into the socket, taped up her ribs, and splinted all of her fingers— but her face was a wreck and would need reconstruction. Her jawbone was cracked in several places, with several teeth broken and some gone entirely. Her nose also had multiple fractures, and she had sustained bruising and damage in both eyes, as well as cuts on her face where her glasses had been broken.

Moon would have liked nothing more than to grab a blanket and a pillow and camp outside of Wicke's operating room, but when the press conference had ended Nanu stopped her, stepping into her path and holding up a hand. "Interpol wants to talk."

Moon swallowed. "Alone?"

"The fuck do you take me for?" Nanu frowned at her. "You're barely eighteen, I wouldn't let you go alone. Can't have anybody else though, sorry." His gaze flicked to Hau and Lillie, who had only reluctantly left her side for the duration of the press conference.

"All right," Moon sighed. "Where are they?"

"Mansion mess hall. Or dining room, I guess." His eyes narrowed, and he mumbled something that sounded vaguely less complimentary under his breath. She decided not to ask.

There were two Interpol agents, a man and a woman; they were both eating. The woman wore a trim, dark suit; the man wore a brown trenchcoat, like an old-fashioned detective. Moon squinted at him. There was something vaguely familiar.

"I met you once," she finally remembered. "On Akala Island?"

"Oh, yes!" He brightened, setting down his fork. "I asked you about Team Rocket then. I had no idea that there was anything like this in the works. I am very sorry you had to deal with it."

Moon shrugged. "I'm the Champion," she muttered. "It's my job."

"It shouldn't have been," said the woman softly. "We were assigned to find Giovanni and return him to prison, and we failed in our task. You paid the price for our mistake." She cleared her throat. "But I am getting ahead of myself. My name is Anabel."

"And I am Looker," added the man. "We must gather as much information on the events of today as we possibly can, so that it will not happen again. Could you tell us about your experience today?"

Her heart sank. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but— she had had to tell stories like this before, about Nihilego and Horatio and Po Town and Lusamine and the Altar of the Moone and all sorts of things of which she did not have good memories; and she knew that the more she talked about it the easier it would get.

A gnarled hand rested on her shoulder briefly, before moving away. "A bit at a time," said Nanu. There was no inflection to his voice beyond fatigue— not even a hint of the usual annoyance that seemed to pervade everything he did. "I'll back you up when I can. They got more of the picture from Plumeria, as Wicke's still in goddamn surgery. But some bits neither of them were there for, and that's what they want to ask you about."

It occurred to Moon, in a way that it had not until now, that Nanu may have appeared to have given up on his role as the kahuna— but it did not mean that he had given up on caring. Here he was, a man for whom she (like everyone else) had been an irritant and an annoyance; and he didn't have to be here. She was eighteen, and could have had the interview alone. But Nanu was here anyway— even after being tased, with some bruises on his thin arms where he'd fallen to the ground. There was no material reward for his presence here. He wasn't even being paid for this, because he no longer worked for Interpol.

So she had to conclude that Nanu was here because he wanted to be. That he was here because for some reason, he cared about her.

Moon looked over at him, and saw that he was staring straight ahead with only exhaustion and slight boredom on his face. But he was here.

"Thank you," she said quietly, and didn't give him a chance to respond before turning back to Anabel and Looker and beginning her story from the panicked call she had received from Sophocles.

* * * * *

The wings— or were they claws?— spread and curled, cracking into the tile of the ballroom floor. Bright blue eyes regarded her malevolently, and it opened its maw to—

—shriek—

—before rearing up on hind legs to spread its glowing red wings.

Unfortunately, the Skulls were the first ones in radius of his wings, and Moon watched, horrified, as all of them shriveled up into mere skeletons in seconds. Plumeria, gone. Molly and Rogelio, dead. Jeremiah and Ki-moon, Cassie and Raquel, Guzma and Almas and hundreds of teenagers, of children she knew— piles of bones, unmoving and silent.

"No!" Her own voice ripped out of her lungs. "No! You can't!"

Yveltal shrieked again, a ringing cry that echoed through the room; the wings seemed to grow brighter than before. They flapped violently, and the pillars of the room crumbled into dust.

"No, no, no!"

The skeletons rose, walking crookedly toward her with grins. The stone-dust swept across the floor, swirling about her feet and trapping them in place. Yveltal raised its wings again, and they glowed bright and red.

"Die," said Lysandre, looming high above Yveltal with disdainful amusement in his eyes.

"No! Fuck you, I won't die!"

A bone-deep chill set into her entire body, and she looked down to see her hands melting, shriveling until she too was made of bones.

Lysandre's laughter rung with Yveltal's hair-raising cry, and the last thing she saw before the great wings swept down upon her were hundreds of grinning skulls—

* * * * *

"Moon!"

There were wings in her face, but they were different wings— feathery, and familiar. Brown with cream, and jet black.

"Hoo hoo!" Puck was still smacking frantically at her shoulders and arms; Ariel, with upset and trilling cries, was targeting the top of her head.

"Wha," she gasped. It came out oddly hoarse.

The wings retreated, and there were Hau and Lillie, coming close to fold her up in their arms. "It was just a dream," said Hau softly. "Just a dream, Moon."

Moon blinked, and then the breath shuddered out of her body once, and then twice, and then she could not stop it.

"They all died," she said, into Lillie's shoulder. "The Skulls, they all died, and I couldn't stop it."

"No," said Lillie firmly. "None of the Skulls died, Moon. You saved them."

"I— I know, but it felt so real."

"Moon," said Hau softly. "Maybe you should talk to someone about this."

She squinted at him. "Like who?"

"Like a therapist."

Moon tensed before she could think about it, and Lillie's hand on her back paused for a few moments before continuing the long sweep up and down her back. "It's— it's just a dream, Hau. I'll be fine."

She almost felt Lillie take a breath, but her friend didn't say anything, just held her.

"It's just something to consider." Hau's voice was quiet. "It's— it's not that I don't want to be here for you when you're having a bad time. But I don't know how to help you besides this."

It was a good point, but right now she was just so tired. She was so fucking tired.

"Maybe," she mumbled. "What time is it?"

"It's a little past one in the morning."

"Ew." Moon sighed. "Sorry for waking you guys up. I'll try and go back to sleep."

"Do you want us to stay with you?"

She thought about it for a few seconds, then shook her head. "No, it's— I'll be fine."

Neither of them looked particularly convinced by this, and since she was lying through her teeth she knew they had damn good reason to not be convinced; but it just seemed selfish to ask them to stay. She had Puck and Ariel, already curling around her in the bed again; and after some thought she let Ben and Macbeth out as well. Macbeth— all six and a half feet of her— promptly climbed onto the end of the bed by her feet, and curled up in a strange ball with her shell on the outside— while Ben, bless him, came right up and wiggled into her arms.

"Oh," said Moon, touched. "I guess the two of you aren't so co-dependent after all, huh?"

Macbeth actually uncurled for this, and it seemed she'd been taking lessons from Ben because Moon was promptly subjected to the most withering stare she had ever seen from her usually timid Golisopod.

"Jol vee jol," said Ben grumpily. Moon was too tired to reprimand him for essentially telling her to shut the fuck up, mom; so she just hugged him a little tighter and laid back down.

Lillie and Hau both seemed reassured by this, and left her room— although Moon noticed that they did leave the door cracked, when it had been completely closed before. She supposed that it was an acceptable compromise, and she closed her eyes and did her best to give way to the exhaustion.

* * * * *

Moon woke up two more times, though not screaming. The first time Macbeth grabbed her foot through the covers and shook it, frowning disapprovingly; the second time, she was shocked awake by Ben, and her hands tingled as she stared at the ceiling and wondered if Wicke was out of surgery yet.

She didn't end up going back to sleep after the last time— it was around four-thirty anyway, and she sighed quietly to herself before climbing out of bed and walking into the apartment kitchen to look for something to eat.

She had a lot of texts— the most urgent ones being from her very worried parents, and Aunt Leilani and Uncle Kai; but there were a few from other people. Sophocles had sent a very sweet message, thanking her for the use of Rotom during the rescue; and to her surprise it had been accompanied by a selfie of him and Almas, both smiling shyly at the camera in a way that was just self-conscious enough that her suspicion of their being an item grew into outright certainty. Guzma notably hadn't sent anything but Plumeria had— a very brief message: We've got a narcotics stash left over from the bad old days. Let us know if you need anything from it.

There was something horribly tempting about using morphine to sleep properly, but Moon had the suspicion that if she did she might not be able to escape from the nightmares by waking up, and that sounded far worse than broken sleep.

Then a new text rolled in.

chat: actually god

god herself: Moon, I am out of surgery. If it is not too inconvenient, I would like to see you as soon as you are awake and prepared to do so.

me: Yea be right over

god herself: It's four in the morning, please don't rush yourself.

me: Lol you thought I was asleep in the first place

god herself: Fair point.

Moon left a text to Hau and Lillie, letting them know that she had gone to see Wicke. There was a slight issue where the clothes Plumeria had lent her had not included a pair of shoes, but she did have socks and she might be able to snitch a pair of sanitary shoe-coverings from the medical wing anyway. She quietly left the apartment and padded in her sockfeet across the white concrete, in the greyness of early dawn. Her Aether key card allowed her into the main building immediately, and the tired-looking guard on duty at the entrance to the medical wing waved her through so she assumed she was expected.

A nurse escorted her to Wicke's room, and just before she could leave Moon tugged on her sleeve. "How is she?" she asked.

The nurse sighed. "Thank Arceus you asked," she muttered, reaching up and rubbing her arm across her eyes. "There's nobody listed on her paperwork as next of kin, so she's the only one we've been able to talk to about it. We asked her about some of the adults here, people who work closely with her— she's got three executive office assistants, and she's pretty close with Samiyah in catering as they're about the same age and started working here at the same time. But she invoked HIPAA on all of them, refused to let us tell them about her medical information and needs."

Moon's mind whirled. "Damn."

The nurse nodded tiredly. "We asked about calling her mother, who lives in Kanto, but she said flatly if anyone talked to her mother they wouldn't just be fired, but she would hunt them down once she was completely healed and kill them herself."

"Right." Moon vaguely remembered Lillie mentioning that she thought Wicke's relationship with her own mother was not all that great to begin with, and it was one of the reasons she had been so ready to believe Lillie and Gladion when they'd come to her with their issues.

She eyed the nurse for a few moments, an idea blossoming. "If someone is suddenly listed on her medical information as next of kin," she said shrewdly, "would it be necessary for you to double-check that information to see when the information was edited?"

The nurse blinked at her for a few moments. "Oh, damn," she said finally, but her face cracked into a grin. "Champion, you are absolutely cut from the same cloth as Ms. Wicke. If you can make that happen, we'd be grateful."

"Great. I need to send a text real quick."

chat: sparky mcgee & me

sadly square: Good morning

sadly square: Are you awake, this is a very, very, very, very mild emergency

the roly-poly-est of roly-polys: I'm not exactly awake, but you have my attention.

sadly square: Fantastic

sadly square: So Amelia's out of surgery which is great news, but there are like 4 adults here at the Paradise she's close enough with that the doctors asked her about listing them as next of kin so they can help her with medical shit

sadly square: And she literally invoked HIPAA

sadly square: ON ALL OF THEM

the roly-poly-est of roly-polys: That seems counterintuitive to the healing process, especially if she requires assistance with medication or basic physical needs.

sadly square: EXACTLY

sadly square: So anyway I was wondering if you would hack into the medical database and list me as her next of kin. If I'm the only one listed, I don't think she can stop me from hearing about the HIPAA stuff

sadly square: And maybe backdate it to like... my 18th birthday or so?

the roly-poly-est of roly-polys: I can do that. It may take me a couple of hours.

sadly square: Omg thank you!!!!!

sadly square: Just let me know when you've done it so I can start bossing her the hell around

sadly square: Like I worship the ground she walks on and I KNOW this is unethical as hell, but my god, please accept help from people who care about you??!?

the roly-poly-est of roly-polys: I understand.

the roly-poly-est of roly-polys: Once other people are awake, I'll bring them in on this.

the roly-poly-est of roly-polys: She really loves Almas, apparently. He might be able to pout her into compliance.

sadly square: Who the fuck doesn't love Almas

sadly square: Because I'm going to throw hands if there's an actual answer to that question

the roly-poly-est of roly-polys: His own parents are kind of the actual worst.

the roly-poly-est of roly-polys: Almas said Amelia was the first adult to ever ask him what his pronouns were AND who actually used them appropriately

the roly-poly-est of roly-polys: So I actually owe her for that, too. I'm happy to help you.

sadly square: Thank you so much, I really appreciate it

* * * * *

Wicke squinted down at her tablet, then at the doctor standing at the foot of the bed; then at the grinning nurse in the doorway, and then at Moon, sitting on a chair next to her.

"I don't know how you did this," she said quietly, her eyes narrowing, "but it is almost certainly illegal."

"Consider this," said Moon lightly. "I am a busy-ass person with a job that means I'm not going to be here most of the time. So if you're worried about anyone meddling in your healing process, you don't have to be. But having a next of kin listed is important, because if you suddenly get worse there has to be someone authorized to make medical decisions if you can't."

"I know that," said Wicke. Her eyes were very cool, and Moon felt about six inches tall but she stared back, unwilling to give way. "It's still illegal."

"If you don't fight or question it, I will consider all debts you feel you may owe me paid in full."

It was kind of a risky bet, because she wasn't sure if Wicke felt like she owed Moon— but it paid off. After a few moments, Wicke looked away, letting out a sigh.

"Agreed," she said finally. "But this is a temporary measure. Once I am mobile, you will be removed from the paperwork."

"Done and done." Moon offered her hand to shake, noticed that nine of Wicke's fingers were in splints, and retracted it with a wince. Wicke's mouth twitched, and she gestured to the doctor.

"With that settled," she said, with another sigh, "I suppose Champion Hawkins had better be updated on my condition."

* * * * *

She had to go to work. Ordinarily, she wouldn't have had to work on a Sunday, but since the League had been closed yesterday for the press conference they had already arranged for it to open on Sunday. Moon had asked Kahili about maybe cancelling that, thinking that everyone in the Elite Four had been tased and/or knocked out; but Kahili said simply that it was better for general Alolan morale if they showed that this hadn't affected them all that much. At first Moon thought about yelling at her, but then there was a scuffling on the line before another voice said chirpily into the set,

"Kahili's coping mechanism is to carry on, so we should let her do that. What if we closed early every day this week?"

"Earlier than usual?" Moon heard Kahili demand in the background.

"Yep!" said Acerola brightly. "Open at nine, end at one. A four-hour day."

There was more scuffling on the line, but then she heard Kahili sigh.

"Yay! Hey, don't call a Charizard— I'll come get you and bring you straight here at eight fifty. Go back to sleep if you need it."

"I don't," lied Moon, "but it will be good to have some time to organize things."

* * * * *

Gladion called in the afternoon when she was finished working; and she felt a little bad that she'd forgotten to tell him about everything— that he'd had to learn about the events of the previous day from a fucking tabloid article— but he didn't seem to mind.

It was so good to see his face. To see someone who had been broken in ways she couldn't even dream of, with steady strength and a new calmness in his eyes.

He'd sent pictures of Persephone when he'd chosen her, but to see that she was already an Ivysaur was both impressive and adorable.

Gladion was doing well, and that was a comfort she hadn't expected.

* * * * *

Skypther Conversation: Moon Hawkins, Gary Oak, Satoshi Red

GO: hey moon we heard about all the crazy bs u've been thru

GO: ur boyfie mentioned it

SR: Correction: Gladion told us you'd been through some bad things, and advised us not to panic.

SR: You can imagine how that went over with this one.

GO: RUDE

SR: Anyway, he said that you mentioned Silph Co. when you were talking with him, and wondered if you might not like to talk about it with the people who were there for that incident in question?

Moon stared at her Dex. She was at her house, packing up a small suitcase of spare clothes so she could go live at Aether Paradise for a while, to watch over Amelia and help with cleanup efforts.

MH: I'm busy at this exact second, but that does sound really nice and if you're free in like, three hours, we could talk then?

SR: Of course. We'll call you.

And that was a statement, not a question— which meant that Red was worried about her. Red rarely worried about her, because he had always been so confident in her abilities. Blue was the worrywart of the pair of them.

* * * * *

"Hi," she said, her heart pounding a little bit.

She was sitting in the corner of Wicke's room. Wicke herself was asleep, which was fantastic— she needed all the rest she could get. She had headphones in, so that her friends' voices wouldn't wake Wicke up; and she was going to keep her own voice very quiet, so as not to disturb Wicke.

"You look like shit," was Red's greeting. "Did you sleep last night?"

"Oh my god babe you cannot start with that!"

"I can fucking too," retorted Red, shoving Blue out of the frame before turning to look at Moon. "When was the last time you ate?"

"I had lunch about three hours ago."

His eyes narrowed, but he nodded. "Good. Eating helps. Not overeating, but making sure that you have three square meals a day. Drink plenty of water."

"I don't think that's going to help anything," mumbled Moon.

"It's treating symptoms, not cause." Blue squished back into the frame, poutily kissing Red on the cheek before leaning on his shoulder. Red became a self-fulling prophecy, turning the color he was named for but otherwise ignoring his boyfriend. "But the thing is, taking care of your body is actually pretty helpful for your mind. I know it can be kind of difficult and you might not notice much of a difference, but I promise there is definitely a difference."

Moon nodded briefly. Something in her chest twinged a little.

"Now," said Red, his voice almost too quiet to be heard clearly through the headphones, "can I tell you about Silph Co?"

She had expected him to ask her to talk, and was surprised enough that her mouth fell open and stayed that way for several seconds before she thought to close it.

"I mean, sure," she said finally. "I've only heard about it when you've been super drunk, but sure."

Blue laughed, and even Red let out a small snort. "I didn't keep it from you because I didn't trust you," he said, and his face grew even more serious than usual. "It's just— it's very difficult to talk about. And before, it might have scared you. I might have made you fear or suffer needlessly." His eyes met hers. "But now— I don't think my demons are any worse than yours."

* * * * *

Skypther Conversation: Moon Hawkins, Gladion Mohn

MH: Thank you.

GM: ?

MH: For asking them to talk to me

MH: I didn't realize that it wasn't just the events that happened similarly, but the headspace that I was in

MH: That Red was in

MH: He understood. Nobody else has really gotten it, but he knows

GM: I'm glad I could help you.

GM: You've helped me so much in the past. It's about time I found a way to return the favor.

GM: Sometimes it's felt like you're all give, and I'm all take.

GM: But this is something that I can give, and you can take.

GM: And damn if that doesn't feel good.

MH: Omg you're making me cry!!!!

MH: I love you so much holy SHIT

MH: Thank you

MH: You are the sweetest person I've ever met

GM: I love you, too.

GM: And thank you, for being the sweetest person I know.

* * * * *

Chapter Text

* * * * *

A wounded cry broke the silence of the night. Hau was up without thinking about it, forgetting that there was an air mattress on the living room floor of the apartment and promptly sprawling over it to land on Lillie, who had been sitting up but was knocked back down again.

He heard Lillie swear, very quietly— it was only something she did when she was really, truly fed up or just plain tired— and quickly rolled off her and staggered past the air mattress, to get to the door of the bedroom that they had agreed Moon would take.

Puck and Ariel were smacking at his cousin with their wings, eyes frantic. The other four Pokéballs, secure in the pockets of her belt which hung from the bedframe, vibrated madly.

Her eyes opened, and she sobbed like a child in his and Lillie's arms.

* * * * *

Moon probably thought she was being considerate, telling them that she was okay and that they should go to sleep. She probably thought that it would be easier not to tell them that she was suffering.

But she woke up three more times that night, crying loudly enough that he could hear it; and by the set, sorrowful glitter from the air mattress, Lillie could hear it too. On the last one he heard her rustling around, getting dressed; and it wasn't even light outside. Hau pretended to be asleep while he watched her creep through the apartment.

She sent a text to him and Lillie at least— his Dex buzzed a few minutes after she left the apartment and he scrambled for it, no longer pretending he was asleep. Lillie did the same, brows furrowing.

"I guess she's going to see Amelia?" she said, sitting up on the air mattress.

"Is she awake?"

"Mhm. I had a text about an half an hour ago, letting me know she was starting to wake up after the surgery. She's probably in pain and can barely move her face, but if she wanted to see Moon there must be something important."

"Something Champion-related?"

"It must be," said Lillie. There was a crease in her brow, and circles under her eyes. "Otherwise— otherwise wouldn't she have texted me?"

Hau frowned. "I think so," he said, after a moment. "But Wicke's protective of you, so if there was the slightest possibility of discussing anything unpleasant then she probably would go to Moon first. Or to Gladion, but he's not here."

Lillie's brow furrowed further. "I don't like that," she muttered, but she didn't deny his point. "I don't think I can go back to sleep, but you should—"

"I won't be able to sleep, either," said Hau, shaking his head. "Let's get breakfast and go find Moon."

Something tightened in Lillie's face, but she nodded silently and began extricating herself from the air mattress once more.

He had a lot of texts from his parents, Aunt Kap, and Uncle Yoshiro, and he began answering them while brushing his teeth. Lillie was carefully washing her face next to him, shooting the occasional glance at his phone (technically rude, but since it was Lillie he didn't mind). Her frown increased by the minute.

"Whatsh up?" he asked her, toothbrush still in his mouth.

She eyed him with just a touch of amusement for the toothbrush— which was, of course, why he'd done it— and let out a sigh. "If you've got texts from your parents and Moon's, then so does Moon, probably. Is she answering them?"

"No," said Hau. "I already told them the basics, which is that the whole thing ended more or less cleanly, but that Moon isn't doing so hot, mental healthwise."

Lillie nodded, patting her face dry with a small towel and reaching for a hairbrush. She remained silent as she carefully worked out the sleep-tangles, then split it down the middle and began braiding one side. Hau eyed his locks, but there was only incidental sleep-related frizz, easily fixable with the application of some hair oil.

There were probably people awake and ready to serve breakfast in the Aether residential cafeteria, which was the closest to their apartment; but in silent mutual agreement they ignored it and went to the mansion instead. Hau checked his phone and saw it was about a quarter past five— and a surprising number of Skulls were awake.

Among them was Almas, sitting next to a very sleepy-looking Sophocles who was hunched over a laptop computer, squinting and frowning. It was very cute, honestly— Almas was just staring at Sophocles with a slightly dreamy expression, and his hand was twitching like he wanted to move it.

"Remember how watching Moon get together with your brother was painful for everyone involved?" said Hau under his breath, grabbing a large bowl and the box of Berry Hoops.

"Do I ever."

"I think that's also going to be kind of painful to watch." He indicated Almas and Sophocles.

Lillie studied them for a few moments. "I think they're technically already together," she said, after a few moments. "At least, Almas hinted as much when we were talking to him, while all of those Rainbow Rocket leaders were being taken outside."

"Hm." Hau remembered that Almas had said Mel and Wiki figured out that he was trans almost immediately, which was interesting because Hau hadn't suspected a thing. He studied the pair for a few moments, but honestly Almas just looked like a very small, very pretty boy. And yeah, "small" and "pretty" might have been indicators of unwanted femininity, but Sophocles was only a couple of inches taller than Almas and he was kind of cute in a roly-poly sort of way, and Hau wouldn't have mistaken him for a girl either. They were both shorter than Moon, who was barely five foot seven when she was standing perfectly straight.

Hau and Lillie sat down across from Almas and Sophocles. The latter didn't so much as stir, but Almas started and flushed. "Um, good morning."

"Morning," said Hau. "Thanks for the bath bombs and stuff for Moon. She's been kind of out of it, but I think she appreciates the thought."

"Oh, sure. That was more Moonie and Raquel than me, but, um. Yeah." Almas fidgeted in place. Hau got the impression that Almas kind of wanted to run away, but was restraining himself. "How— how out of it do you mean?"

"Like she had a mental breakdown, threw up in the shower yesterday afternoon, and woke up four times from nightmares, kind of out of it."

"Oh, yeah," said Almas, nodding sympathetically. "I get it. I was up kind of late last night, too. I was, um. Worried." He was blushing again. "About Amelia."

"Did she text you?" said Lillie placidly.

"Mhm. I know she's out of surgery, but she said not to visit just yet."

Lillie studied Almas for a few moments, but then her eyes warmed with a smile. "That's pretty similar to what she said to me. Do you want to come with me when I go later? I thought maybe around lunchtime, if she's awake at that point. I know she has to rest a lot."

"I— um, r-really?" His voice was almost inaudible. "I sort of— um, I was maybe thinking, um— sh-she's known you a lot longer, and I, um, I don't want to— to intrude, or anything..."

"Wicke's got enough room in her heart for both of you," said Hau bluntly, and when Lillie turned to stare at him incredulously he merely shrugged. "What? I'm just saying it like it is."

"Really?" said Lillie, sounding a bit disbelieving.

"What, you don't think she does?"

"Of course she does, but why would you feel you had to clarify that?"

But Almas was staring at the table, as though it was particularly interesting. Sophocles's eyes suddenly flicked over to him, and Hau heard a momentary pause in the rapidfire typing.

"Y-you really think so?"

Lillie blinked at Almas for a few moments. "Oh. Did you, um— did you think I'd be jealous, or something?"

"I mean, it was within the range of possibilities."

"Well, I'm not. And Gladion isn't, either." There was something slightly bitter in Lillie's smile. "I'm told your mother is pretty awful in a similar way to mine, so let's just both count ourselves lucky to have Amelia Wicke in our lives, shall we?"

"Oh, damn straight. I just thought— because you've known her longer, and all. I'm not trying to take anything away from you."

"I never thought you were."

It was this that finally made Almas's shoulders sink back to their usual height, and he rolled his neck with a bit of a sigh. "That's good. I'm glad you think so."

* * * * *

The worst part of the entire thing, Hau decided, over the next three days or so, was that he and Lillie mostly just had to watch Moon suffer, and they couldn't do anything about it.

The email from Gladion had been enormously helpful— the morning after that first day, Guzma and Rogelio and Dr. Colress began organizing proper cleaning-up efforts. A lot of the outdoor courtyard had been shot up in the original assault on the Paradise, and the mansion ballroom was a complete mess. The room that was formerly Lusamine's private lab had to be cleaned out; Giovanni's remains and some of Wicke's blood were on surfaces and furniture. Molly began doing a ream and a half of paperwork, filling in for Wicke on any number of things; and surprisingly Plumeria and Raquel joined her.

But there were still things that had to weigh on Moon, and only Moon. The two initial Interpol agents had been fairly nice, apparently— but their higher-ups were more concerned about the ultimate fates of Archie, Maxie, Cyrus, and Ghetsis. Hau consciously made a private inquiry with Gramps about Archie, who had been taken by Koko; and for his pains was informed that he honestly didn't want to know. Like, seriously didn't want to know. He assumed from this that it was probably a bit gruesome. Archie was the fighting sort, so he'd probably died in some kind of struggle.

The Interpol agents were asking Moon what had happened to those guys, and it was very clear that she didn't know, that she didn't want to know, and that them asking was Stressing Her Out. There was also her job. Even with reduced hours, she was still spending a lot of time at the League because Kahili had paperwork for her to do, and there were some lectures about how to respond in interviews when people asked rude questions, and things like that. Moon was clearly annoyed by these kinds of things— the evidence was on her Chatwitter account, where Hau found himself checking when he hadn't heard from Moon in a few hours. She was surprisingly active, for all she'd never used the platform before becoming the Champion.

* * * * *

Champion Moon Hawkins √ @moonhawk

I give up on today tbh. Can I just go back to bed

3.9k likes 7.4k reChats

Champion Moon Hawkins √ @moonhawk

Honestly the only thing I don't like about my job is that League Town is cold and I have to wear a jacket and pants when I'm traveling

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Other than that though I know I'm lucky haha, most people my age either don't like their jobs or don't have jobs

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Which is BS by the way, can someone fix the economy??!? ok thank u

4.2 likes 8.1 reChats

Champion Moon Hawkins √ @moonhawk

Hey does anyone remember the slogan for Giggles chocolate bars?

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"You're not you when you're hungry. Have a Giggles."

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That slogan is an entire mood and a half b/c I'm starving and high-key want to commit homicide rn

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My publicist says I have to tell you this isn't sponsored btw. Though hey @GigglesChocolate if you're up for it...

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She also said I had to clarify that I'm not asking @GigglesChocolate to sponsor me committing homicide. just the slogan being a mood.

4.8 likes 8.9 reChats

* * * * *

"He's been what?"

Lillie's voice rose sharply and it jolted Hau awake from where he'd been dozing off in the spare chair in the corner of Wicke's hospital room. Wicke was lying back, the bandages on her face revealing very little other than the green glimmer of open eyes. Lillie was half out of her chair, tension thrumming through every line of her body. The last chair was occupied by Almas, round-eyed and already curling in a ball despite the fact that he was clearly not the target of Lillie's rage.

"You heard me," sighed Wicke. She couldn't speak very loudly, nor for very long— the bruising on her throat and vocal chords was healing, but it was slow going. The doctors had originlly wanted to wire her jaw shut, but Wicke (the madlass, thought Hau, shaking his head) had demanded accelerated healing through Blissey and Audino for that purpose alone. Usually people didn't get accelerated healing unless they were in like, serious danger of dying. It was because Blissey and Audino, when it came down to it, were Pokémon, and they didn't really understand how not to cause humans pain in the accelerated healing process. It was like having several months of aching bone realignment crammed into about ten minutes.

(Wicke had also refused morphine for that one. Moon had come back to the Aether apartment with dark shadows under her eyes, and had woken up a record seven times that night.)

"I cannot believe this," spat Lillie, fully out of her chair. She stalked from one end of the room to the other, hands balling into fists. "She just— she says one thing, she does one thing, and he rolls over like a little puppy and just takes it! What the hell!"

The statement was punctuated with a kick aimed at the vacated chair, which skidded across the room and smacked into the wall. Almas jumped about a foot.

"Hey, I was falling asleep and I missed the context," volunteered Hau, keeping his voice deliberately loud, slow, and calm. "What's going on?"

Wicke and Almas both glanced his way, but it was Lillie who answered. "My darling, idiot brother," she said, with biting sarcasm, "is apparently speaking with our psychotic, deranged mother. She sent him a friend request on Skypther."

Oh. Hau winced internally. "Well, he's a big boy," he ventured cautiously. "He can make his own choices."

Lillie whirled on him, her gaze furious and disbelieving, but Hau merely raised an eyebrow at her and kept his expression calm. For a few moments she just fumed, but then the breath left her body in a whoosh, and her shoulders sunk.

"I know," she murmured. "It's just— she's awful. She's completely awful, and he knows that. Why is he letting it happen? What does he have to gain from this?"

"Is it possible," said Hau carefully, "that she's made any progress in therapy and maybe isn't being completely horrible?"

Wicke's head moved from one side, to the other. "No," she said, still slightly hoarse. "The restraining order only applies to Lillie, as she is a minor and I am her guardian ad litem. Legally, there is nothing stopping her from communicating with Gladion. The therapy has been... going poorly." She sighed. "I wouldn't be reviewing all of her sessions, but therapists are mandated reporters. They are required to let the authorities and all related parties know when a patient threatens to commit either criminal activity of any kind, or suicide. I am flagged when Lusamine mentions either of those things in her sessions, and so far I have been flagged in every single one."

"That's got to be like, at least thirty sessions," said Hau disbelievingly. "It's halfway through March and she goes like, every other day, right?"

"Nearly forty," said Wicke. It was hard to tell through the bandages and she had to keep her expression very neutral for optimal healing— good thing she was good at that— but her eyes were tired. "I have to review the voice recordings to see what she says. It's nasty work, and after a while it gets very boring to hear someone wish you, themselves, and the people you love dead a thousand times over."

A slender brown hand snaked across the bed to curl around Amelia's cast-enclosed left arm, the one that wasn't occupied with the Magical Tablet of World-Ruling. Almas was frowning. "Couldn't you have someone else transcribe it, and then highlight it whenever she mentions you or Lillie or Gladion?"

"It's a nice thought," said Wicke. She paused in her work to gently press her fingertips on the back of Almas's hand. "But it would be a waste of paper and ink. The entire thing would be highlighted. She doesn't talk about anything else. I was hoping perhaps she might talk about Arbutus, because that would be a massive step towards improvement if she could acknowledge her grief and pain over that. But I'm not allowed to suggest topics to her therapist. Lusamine is the person who structures her own therapy and my input would be a conflict of interest."

"Well— could you have someone else listen to it, and summarize it for you?" ventured Almas. He looked physically pained. "It just seems like— like a lot of time you have to spend getting your heart broken all over again. You shouldn't have to go through that, A-Amelia."

He stuttered over her name, going slightly pink in the same way Moon did when she was horribly embarrassed.

"If it were anyone else, I would," said Wicke. She sounded even more tired than before. "But— I don't wish to subject her to that. To having her personal thoughts picked over by strangers. Even if she hates me, she at least knows me. And she knows I won't divulge her secrets."

"Maybe she's counting on that," pointed out Hau.

Wicke blinked at him.

"Look, Lusamine's screwed up, but she's not stupid, right?"

"She is not."

"She probably knows that you get flagged, and she probably says crazy stuff every time because she hates you and wants to inconvenience you as much as possible."

"That seems a bit paranoid," said Lillie, but her chuckle sounded a touch nervous.

Wicke just blinked again.

Hau sighed. "You know, I never thought I'd have to be the one to remind you guys of this, but this is the lady who deliberately punished Lillie for the things that Gladion did, that she didn't like. This is the lady who deliberately punished Gladion for not being his dad, and also for trying to be his dad. This is the lady who deliberately says and does hurtful things, and then looks at you because she wants to get a reaction out of you. This is the lady who gets off on watching Wicke and Faba duke it out in the Great Battles of Bureaucracy. She's an evil chaos gremlin and she probably threatens you all in therapy because she knows it means extra paperwork and you listening to recordings that clearly stress you out, because she feels like she's suffering so she feels the need to take everyone down to her level."

"Misery loves company?" ventured Almas.

Hau made double finger guns, pointing at him. "You've got it in one."

Lillie looked mortified. "Oh my god, you're right. You're totally right." One hand rose slowly. "That's— oh my god."

Wicke still didn't say anything, for several long moments. Then, finally: "I would have to see camera recordings to know for sure, but..."

"But?" Hau prompted her.

"But your hypothesis fits with her character." A dry, humorless chuckle huffed from her mouth; it reminded him of Gladion, who could laugh without smiling. It used to drive Moon nuts, but Hau wondered if he'd learned it from Wicke. "She would be— exactly that petty. And now I know, and I can't do anything about it." Another mirthless laugh.

"Who says you can't do anything about it?" said Almas suddenly.

"I'm not going to—"

"Amelia," said Almas, and he looked a little bit terrified but his expression was determined. "If you give her the power to occupy your time and energy, then— then she wins. If you let her know you're not getting notified anymore, she might actually talk about something else because she knows talking about you won't get her what she wants."

Hau stared at Almas, because damn, that was pretty insightful.

"You're— you're Lillie's guardian ad litem," continued Almas. "Which means you deal with Lusamine's stuff so that she doesn't have to, right?"

There was a pause, and then Wicke nodded once.

"You could have a lawyer do that. That's what lawyers do, right? For people who have restraining orders. You're a lawyer. You could get your own lawyer, who can go through that stuff without being personally hurt by it, and they can give you a summary for the really, really important stuff, and not just the usual ranting and raving. But you also have to let her know that you're no longer reviewing her sessions every time she mentions the three of you, so that she knows it won't work anymore."

"That's pretty brilliant," said Hau admiringly, and Almas went beetroot red. "You should try it, Ms. Wicke. If it turns out you were being too paranoid, then it's probably still a good idea. Either way, it means you're not babysitting an evil chaos gremlin while also running a company and healing from however many broken bones you've got."

Wicke's mouth quirked. "I will consider it," she said eventually, and Hau knew that was as good as they were going to get. "But I still can't do anything about Gladion. That's a choice he has to make."

* * * * *

Gladion had never responded that well to being told what to do. Hau could have told Lillie this before she texted her brother, but she hadn't consulted him and so all he could do was pat her back when she rage-cried into his shoulder.

Thankfully, the suspense of this only lasted a few days before Gladion, as Lillie had rather indelicately suggested, pulled his head out of his ass and blocked Lusamine, and then asked Wicke to prepare the paperwork for his own restraining order.

"Why didn't he just do that right away?" complained Lillie, when they found out.

Hau swallowed, because the subject of mothers could be kind of touchy with Lillie. She liked his mom, he knew that; and so far Hau had made a point of never, ever comparing Lusamine to Leilani— but some things had to be said.

"Don't you ever wish she was like, a mom?" he ventured, after a few moments. "Like, not just your mother, but like— a mom?"

"You mean, like yours?"

Her tone was bitter, though not at all mean-spirited.

"Well, yeah."

"Of course I do. I wish that every day."

"Don't you think Gladion wishes that, too?"

"I know he does, but it's not realistic. It's a wish. It's never going to happen."

Hau eyed her. "What was that whole thing with making your wishes come true in the mall, then?"

Lillie opened her mouth, then closed it, frowning and flushing. "That was silly," she said, a bit primly. "I made a wish to kiss you some more. And then I did."

"You made your own wish come true."

"Yes, that's what I said."

"Don't you think Gladion might have been trying to make his own wish come true?" Lillie stiffened in his arms, but he gently touched his fingers to the side of her face, guiding her up to look at him. "He gave her a chance to be a mom. She didn't take it, and that sucks for her because Gladion is a great person and she's missing out."

"He should have known," murmured Lillie, after a few moments. "He should have known. No matter how many chances she gets, she'll never take them. She'll never change."

"I think that saying she's never going to change means that she's never going to change. I wouldn't expect her to change, obviously— because in the end, you were right that she was just trying to hurt Gladion. But someday, once she realizes what she's missing, she might actually try. Just... you know, don't count on it. Hope for the best but prepare for the worst, and all that."

For a few moments Lillie didn't say anything, but then she relaxed into him. "You're right," she murmured. "Thank you."

* * * * *

Hau's greatest personal difficulty at the moment was that sleeping in the same room as Lillie at the Aether Paradise apartment, so that they could keep an eye on Moon keeping an eye on Wicke, was definitely defying the spirit of the agreement they'd tentatively made about waiting until Lillie's eighteenth birthday to Do Things, which he was very much, absolutely not thinking about. Honestly it was a nice problem to have, because it was easily dealt with. He was getting used to cold showers in the morning. And it was probably fortunate, in this and this alone, that Lillie had been so incredibly sheltered for her entire life. She hadn't figured out that he was having... uh, pants feelings, except for that one time they'd gone to the beach. And he'd only mentioned it that time because he didn't want to alarm her if she happened to come into contact with his lower half.

He was sure as hell not going to tell her about it now, because that implied it would be her problem to deal with when it absolutely, positively was not. His mama raised a gentleman, thank you very much.

So with his lack of personal issues, Hau watched Moon, and he watched Lillie.

Lillie was all right, he figured. She had medication and a therapist and a slowly-growing, but very solid support system. Sure, she got upset about things; and sure, a lot of the emotions that Lillie was going through after the whole Rainbow Rocket thing were angry emotions rather than sad ones. But honestly, anger was good progress for Lillie. He still remembered the days when she'd just been sad and quiet, following him and Moon on their journeys like a little lost Mareep. She'd been through a lot, so it made sense that it took her some time to process it all and get properly angry about it. She had every right to be angry.

But now it was like watching that all over again with Moon. Moon got angry first, and then she got sad. He wasn't sure if she realized that. The anger had been there when she was in the moment. The anger happened when she was physically doing things. But the sorrow came when she had her mind to herself.

And the thing was— the first person he was tempted to pull in on this was Gladion. But Gladion was in Kanto, trying to focus on a Gym challenge and getting it done as fast as was humanly possible. And according to his own ongoing conversation with Gladion, as well as Moon when he asked her about Gladion (which he did whenever possible because it made her face light up like Pre-Rainbow Rocket Moon), Gladion had a lot of time to himself to think and train his Ivysaur and to meet and talk to people without being Lusamine's rebellious runaway kid, or a minor Battle Royal celebrity, or that asshole Team Skull Enforcer. Being in Kanto was making him happy, and Hau didn't want to be the big jerk that ruined that by telling him that Moon was straight-up not having a good time.

He also didn't want to be the big jerk that lied about it, though— so in the end, he messaged Gladion.

Skypther Conversation: Hau Akiona, Gladion Mohn

HA: im worried abt moon

GM: Welcome to my life.

HA: im not just like generally worried tho

HA: shes not sleeping well & shes working herself half 2 death trying 2 do a bunch of stuff for amelia

GM: I did my best to have most of the major cleanup operations taken care of by the others who were present during the Rainbow Rocket incident, and I asked Red and Blue to talk to her.

HA: & i appreciate that, rlly i do

HA: but i think she needs professional help

HA: & whenever lillie or i try 2 talk 2 her abt it she changes the subject

GM: Like Amelia does?

HA: ...yea actually

GM: I don't know if I can do much while I'm away, but I'll do my best to keep her engaged with texting and calling.

HA: thats perfect actually

HA: shes always happier when shes been talking 2 u

GM: Why are you such a cheeseball?

HA: lmao u love it dont lie

GM: God help me, I do.

GM: Hau, you're a fantastic friend. Both to me, and to Moon.

GM: She talks about how helpful you and Lillie have been to her, so I hope you don't feel as though your efforts to support her have gone unappreciated.

GM: Thank you for that, by the way.

HA: omg yw

HA: lowkey i just teared up a lil bit

HA: look whos the cheeseball now

GM: Well, I teared up writing it, so I think we're fairly even.

HA: omg

HA: look at us being manly men who can cry if we want to

HA: im so proud of us

GM: You're treading dangerously close to reminding me of Blue, and I have more than enough of him to deal with at the moment.

HA: LMAO

* * * * *

Chapter Text

Skypther Conversation: Gladion Mohn, Lillie Mohn

GM: I'm sorry.

LM: I'm sorry, too.

GM: Why would you be sorry? You were right.

LM: I didn't have to be unkind about it, though.

LM: Where Lusamine is concerned, over time I've found that it's not possible for me to remain neutral.

LM: But I definitely shouldn't have taken it out on you. That's what I'm sorry for.

GM: I wouldn't expect you to remain neutral about Lusamine.

LM: It's just that at the beginning I was so sad, you know? I was upset. I didn't realize how she treated you at first, until you were gone and she turned her sights on me.

LM: It broke my heart.

GM: I understand.

LM: But the thing is, over time— over time I met Professor Burnet, and Kapua Hawkins, and Leilani Akiona. And I realized that what they all had in common was that they reminded me of Amelia, not Lusamine.

LM: I realized that they are what a mother ought to be, and that Lusamine wasn't normal.

LM: I realized that I deserved better. That you deserved better.

LM: And then I wasn't just sad anymore. I was angry.

LM: I'm still angry. I'm furious.

LM: How dare she treat us that way?

GM: It was the other way around for me.

GM: I was used to being what my therapist refers to as "the scapegoat," and I thought it was normal that you were treated better than I was.

GM: I didn't really understand that it was unfair because she had me convinced that it was normal and that I deserved it.

GM: But it still felt unfair, and that was worse. Believing that she treated us both appropriately still felt unfair, and I was angry about it.

GM: I was angry with myself because I couldn't understand it.

GM: No matter what I did, I was always wrong and stupid and awful.

LM: Oh my god, Gladion.

GM: So I was just— angry. All the time. At Mother, at Dad, at you sometimes even though you didn't do anything to deserve it. At Faba, who absolutely deserved it. At Wicke, even though she was always kind to us.

GM: And then I got out.

GM: I didn't have the benefit you did right away, of meeting people who acted like mothers. I was on my own for a while, and then I heard of Team Skull and how they would definitely take me in because I was a teenager from a shitty broken home.

GM: And yes, Team Skull is absolutely fucked up, and yes, everyone there is in major need of a therapist and yes, at first the other kids hated me and thought I was a piece of shit because I had money and hadn't really dropped the super-formal, pretentious way of speaking that Lusamine always taught us or whatever.

GM: But I watched them loving each other.

GM: A lot of Alolans disapprove of them, but honestly— Team Skull consists of people who have chosen to make their own families, because like me they were angry with what they were born into.

GM: When you make the conscious choice to love someone, versus having to kind of love them by default because they're your family— that's stronger, I think.

GM: Of course, I have chosen to love you as my family. Even though I've been angry with you in the past, you will always be my sister.

GM: But now my family isn't just you. It's you, Amelia, Moon, and Hau.

GM: That is the family I have chosen.

* * * * *

Almas's idea worked like a charm. Amelia mostly gave in about the lawyer because she was too tired not to accept a solution to a problem when she had so many to deal with to begin with. Stress headaches were not good for someone whose entire head was in a cast. Lusamine was duly informed that Amelia would no longer be notified when she made threats against Amelia, Gladion, or Lillie in therapy; and the resulting temper tantrum was (according to Amelia, who had actually been given the video to watch versus the audio transcription to read) astonishing to behold— followed by a complete regression to silence in therapy. The therapist tried to get her to talk by asking questions, but Lusamine merely sat there with a stony expression, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

Lillie wondered how she had ever seen her mother as more than a giant toddler, kicking and screaming and sulking when she didn't get her way. If she'd ever acted that way in front of Lusamine, she probably would have been spanked within an inch of her life, or made to clean the entire mansion with a toothbrush and a bottle of hand soap, or something equally ridiculous.

Either way, it wasn't really her problem to worry about. There were more important things at the moment, namely helping Amelia get Aether Paradise back to working order after the damage and chaos caused by Team Rainbow Rocket— not just to the physical structure of the mansion, but to their cybersecurity mainframes, and some misallocated funds to which Faba had somehow still had access, and which he'd used for chromatic terrorism hijacking purposes.

Lillie mostly did her best to help Amelia by typing emails on the tablet for her. It was difficult, not to mention painful, to type when nine of one's ten fingers were in casts or splints. Voice-to-text was also not always a feasible option, both for reasons of privacy and practicality. Faba had kicked Amelia in the throat, and her trachea had incurred some fairly serious damage. Her voice was much quieter and hoarser than it had previously been, and text-to-speech couldn't pick that up accurately until it healed. Lillie was already privy to enough of Aether's business practices that Amelia didn't mind using her services as a scribe despite the technical breach of confidentiality that it occasionally incurred.

Moon needed to offer more active assistance because she got restless, and she did so by running errands. She was also still Amelia's medical next-of-kin— at least until Gladion returned from Kanto, Lillie was informed— and she spent plenty of time with Wicke discussing the various physical therapy options she would need when she was able to move again. Hau also assisted with running errands, but mostly he brought snacks and drinks for Lillie and Moon. He rubbed their shoulders and feet, and put his foot down at Moon going to bed by eleven every night because she had to be up by seven-thirty to get to the League by eight forty-five.

And he woke Moon in the night when she was stuck in her own screams, and he would hold Lillie tight against his chest in the darkness and cry, because there was nothing he could do.

Every time it broke Lillie's heart all over again, but it wasn't Moon's fault.

* * * * *

And then there was Almas.

Lillie had honestly been surprised to learn that Almas had thought that Lillie and Gladion would be angry if he grew close to Amelia. The thing was, despite the fact that she had been more of a mother to them than Lusamine, Amelia still wasn't really their mother. Now, if Lusamine had been killed in Ultra Space— a morbid fantasy in which Lillie had indulged on her darkest days— then Lillie knew that Amelia would have volunteered to adopt them immediately, and then she really would have been their mother. But despite that closeness and the love that Amelia had for them, Lillie knew that she would probably never be able to bring herself to address Amelia as "Mom" or "Mama" or "Mother." The first didn't quite fit; the second had been what she had called Lusamine when she was much younger; and the third was what Lusamine had demanded she be addressed by once Lillie had started schoolwork.

It was stupid, and it made bitterness cloy upon her tongue whenever she spoke of Lusamine; but the name mother, the title of parent, had been ruined for Lillie forever.

But then— but then, there was Almas.

It had taken her a little while to understand it fully, but the reason that Almas had been nervous about Lillie and Gladion objecting to his relationship with Amelia was that he was, however unintentionally, forming the same type of bond with her. Almas by all accounts had awful parents— Lillie wasn't sure about details, but she could sympathize— and Amelia had been the first adult besides Plumeria (though Lillie wasn't really even sure if Plumeria counted as an adult in this scenario; she wasn't actually that much older than most of the Skulls, for all she carried herself that way) who had addressed Almas with any degree of respect for his gender and background. As far as she could tell he'd sort of just imprinted on her, like a newly hatched Pokémon, the second it happened.

There were other Team Skull kids who liked Amelia a lot. Molly and Rogelio spoke very fondly of her and came to see her every day, and most of the others dropped in to visit her hospital room at least once a week. Guzma and Plumeria both thought that Amelia was hilarious, apparently— and she did have a line in dry, deadpan humor that Gladion had developed as well, and Lillie could see how they would appreciate that. Amelia treated every member of Team Skull who came to visit with respect, sincerity, and kindness.

But with Almas, Lillie could see that Amelia was different. She treated Almas the same way she treated Lillie and Gladion. She was a little more sarcastic, a little more vulnerable. She made dark jokes and very occasionally let slip a profanity or five. She listened when any of them talked, and she held them when they cried, and sometimes she cried with them because it hurt her to watch them in pain, the same way that it hurt Hau to watch Moon in pain.

Almas, in a very silent and sweet way, had become family for Amelia. And Lillie was a little jealous at first— she was mature enough to admit that. But after some observation, she realized that Almas's near-constant presence in Amelia's hospital room was helpful. He held Amelia's broken hands, his own curling around her. He helped brush her teeth— something that she would not even allow Lillie to do. She'd lost or broken about a third of them when Faba had kicked her in the face repeatedly. Replacements and crowns were being made, but her nose and skull fractures needed to be fully healed before the new teeth could be grafted in.

Lillie had accidently seen it through the door once. Neither Amelia nor Almas had noticed, but Amelia was lying partially-reclined like usual, and Almas was standing over her, bent down and and focused on his task. The head-cast allowed only so much room for Amelia to open her mouth, and the toothbrush was an ordinary plastic one— no electric, as the vibrations would give Amelia a headache. Carefully and gently, Almas cleaned Amelia's teeth; and he helped her spit and rinse into a bowl provided for the purpose.

The worst part was that Amelia was crying the entire time. It wasn't from pain or sensitivity, as far as Lillie could tell. It was just... something else. Almas didn't speak, except to give quiet directions about spitting and rinsing. And when he was done, he put his arms around Amelia's waist and carefully laid his head on her shoulder, and just stayed there for a few moments.

When Lillie was really there, not just peeking through the doorway— she saw that Almas made Amelia laugh. Made her smile wider, made it reach her eyes. Helped her to relax when she was upset. And Amelia deserved every bit of that and more, so she dismissed her instinctive jealousy as irrational and made an effort to get to know Almas better.

He was a couple months younger than she was, having just turned seventeen in February. They both had light-colored hair, but Almas's color was not natural: he bleached his and dyed it a color that was somewhere between platinum blond and silver. He said his natural color was dark brown, and that before it had been damaged by the bleach it was much thicker. Lillie and Almas were both slim, and had delicate features; but there, the similarities ended. Over time Almas's shoulders were broadening slightly with the growth of muscle. She knew he went to the gym fairly religiously, often at ridiculous hours of the morning. The barest fuzz of facial hair was beginning to appear on his chin— the result of the testosterone treatments. It was generally difficult to see where the beard would grow on Almas because his skin was darker, but when the sun hit his face just right Lillie could see it clearly.

His eyes were hazel, like Moon's. But Moon's eyes were more gold-and-brown, and Almas's eyes were more green.

They didn't have much in common, besides Amelia. Lillie's interests had always been academic; she liked to read and study and learn new things. Almas admitted freely that he had never made good grades even when he was in school properly, and that he had always thought video games were cool but had never been allowed to play them when he was living at home because it wasn't a "feminine" activity.

He ran away at fifteen, and for a while he was homeless and alone but then he met Ki-moon in Malie City, and they survived together for a few months before they met Jeremiah, who had literally stowed away on a cruise ship from Galar. The chemistry for Jeremiah and Ki-moon was more or less instant, and the three of them lived on the streets together for another few months until the December before this last one, during which time they ran into Molly and Rogelio at the Malie City Community Center and Rogelio had told them that Team Skull offered free homes and food for anyone willing to join— and from there, it had been history.

Almas was actually fairly well off, because he had a Tortwitch channel where he streamed himself playing video games. Much to Lillie's surprise, there were quite a lot of people who were willing to pay a monthly subscription fee for the privilege of being able to chat with him while he was working, as well as people who donated randomly because they thought he was funny or charming. And Almas was funny and charming, once you got over his initial shyness.

* * * * *

"Why would people pay to watch other people play video games?" she asked him, sitting in chairs in the corner of Amelia's room while Moon, Amelia, and the doctors had a quiet discussion about something related to physical therapy.

Almas blinked at her.

"I don't mean that like an insult," she clarified quickly, realizing how it sounded. "I didn't grow up with internet access, and I never watched Gladion playing Luxio Kart or anything like that."

"There's a few reasons," he said, after a few moments. "Practically speaking, not everyone can afford video games. Consoles aren't cheap, and building your own gaming computer from scratch can add up quick. So watching other people play video games can be a good way to experience it without having to shell out a ton of money." He shifted in place. "And I'm, um— I'm a pretty popular streamer, so sometimes companies will send me games before their release date, just so I can pre-record some content for my PokéTube channel before the game properly goes up for sale. Then when people check to see if there's a tutorial about how to do something, or they're trying to decide whether or not they want to buy it, they can look the game up and see what the mechanics are like, and all that."

Lillie noticed, with amusement, that Almas barely stumbled over his words when he was talking about a subject with which he was familiar and comfortable.

"And, um—" But now he was faltering, clearly embarrassed. "Some people... just like watching me play, I guess? Soph said he started watching me because I, um—because apparently I have a relaxing voice, or something like that. He's doing online college and sometimes he does some freelance programming work, so when he's doing that he'll put my stream on in the background and just listen or whatever. And then if I've got a horror game on, some people like watching because I hate horror games and I scare super easy, so they think it's hilarious when I'm like, shrieking and peeing my pants in fear or whatever." Lillie laughed, and he smiled and looked down at his lap, folding his hands together. "I try and stream every day, but with all this—" He gestured vaguely at the hospital room. "Well, it's been kind of sporadic. I've managed to do every third day, sometimes every other. And it's always at night, because when A-Amelia's awake, I want to be here."

He was flushing by the time he was done speaking, which Lillie had expected. "That's amazing, though," she told him. "That you get to do something you really like, and make money from it, and that you're really young. It's very lucky to find that combination."

"Yeah." His voice softened. "It was mostly just other kids on Team Skull watching at first, but then they started telling their non-Skull friends, and they told their friends, and then before I knew it I was like— almost a celebrity? I panicked the first time someone recognized me in public, because like— I look really different from how I used to look before I left home, and I was worried that they knew me from before. But then they were really nice and they said about how they loved my channel, and I realized that no, they had no idea about me being— about my old life. They knew me because of what I did. Because of what I do. And that was like— that was super nice." He swallowed hard.

"That's wonderful," said Lillie softly.

"I've worried about being recognized from, um, before. But like— I do still talk to my brother, sometimes. He and his wife are the only ones who have reached out since I ran away. He didn't get it at first, either. That I'm a boy, and all. But I think his wife helped him understand, and he apologized and everything. We still don't talk very much, because they're pretty busy with their own lives and she just had a baby so they're super busy. But he says that as far as he knows my parents have no idea about where I am or what I do, and that he'll warn me if he thinks they're getting close to finding out. Which is super nice of him."

"That's good," said Lillie softly. "That's really good, Almas." She hesitated. "I know from personal experience that having a brother to look out for you, even if it's from a distance, is really nice."

Almas blinked at her for a few moments, but then his face sort of crumpled a little bit. "Is it— oh, god. Um, I've had this thought. Which I think that Jer and Moonie maybe also have had, a little bit, because they tease him just as much as they tease Molly or Rog, and, um—"

"Tease who?"

"Gladion." Almas took a breath. "Is it weird that we all kind of— that we kind of think of him as a brother, too? Because it's really obvious with you, and with Hau. But he always did his best to protect us, too. Emmett and his crowd, they always gave us a hard time because we were so like, obviously gay. I think I had a little more luck with that, because after the first month Guzma was really hard on anyone who, like— called me a girl, or whatever." He was rapidly turning red, and his voice was getting faster and higher. "But some people just called Rog and Jer and Moonie— you know."

He said the word very quietly, and Lillie nodded.

"And they called Molly—" A different word, just as soft. "And stuff like that. Molly just like, laughs that kind of thing off because she'll say something like 'yeah I am, and I fucked your mom last night,' because she's like— you know, absolutely fucking insane, or whatever. And Rog would just like, look at people who said mean things. Jer calls him our gay dad because he likes plants and he wears a lot of ugly-ass sweaters, and he hates that but he's got like, a dad stare."

"I've seen the dad stare," Lillie assured Almas, amused.

"Jer and Moonie and I never took it so well, being called names or whatever. But Gladion always, always stood up for us when he was around to hear it. Like, the mean guys learned not to say a goddamn word when he was in the room, because if he so much as heard a mean whisper he would turn around and literally punch someone in the face. And he never hit any of the girls, but he would turn and just like, give them the Gladion stare, which is different from Rog's dad stare."

"I also know the Gladion stare."

"I figured you would. But then Cassie stepped in and she started punching girls who called us names, so after that it kind of died out. Except for Emmett, and Guzma had a rule about Gladion and Emmett being in the same room by the time Gladion, you know, quit Team Skull."

"What was the rule?" said Lillie, curious.

"That they could only be in the same room if everyone else was in that room, too." Almas took a deep breath. "I got like, hella sidetracked there, but the important part is like— Gladion feels like our big brother. Like someone who defends us. And I hope you don't mind that."

Lillie shook her head. "I don't mind," she said quietly. "Not when he's done that for me, too."

* * * * *

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear— wasn't that how the saying went? Sometimes Lillie automatically wanted to apply the feminine pronoun to the old aphorism, because her own mother was a devil if she ever met one. But in this particular instance, it was they. Not for reasons of neutrality, but of plurality. Though there was another saying for that, a line from Shakespeare that Moon had mentioned as being one of her favorites— hell is empty, and all the devils are here.

The point was: on an afternoon when Moon was still at the League, and Hau had gone to Hala's for a kahuna lesson, and Lillie and Almas were just playing Pokémon Go Fish in the corner while Amelia was taking a well-deserved nap— there was a knock at the door, and a nurse poked her head in.

"There are two people here who would like to see Amelia," she said, in a whisper. "I can tell them she's resting, if you want?"

"No, I'll see them. One moment, please," said Amelia, because she always woke up when someone said her name. She reached over and pressed the button that would make her bed rise to support her sitting up. "Did they give names?"

"Binyamin and Sabriya Karim."

Almas dropped his entire hand of cards. It took Lillie a moment to catch on, but then she realized who the unknowns had to be.

Amelia's lips had flattened into a white line, and she turned to look at Lillie. "Go in the bathroom and lock the door," she said, in a low voice. "Lights off." The nurse looked confused, but didn't say anything.

Almas didn't move, eyes wide and chest beginning to heave. Lillie got up and gently grabbed him by the wrists, pulling him up. "Come on," she whispered. "We'll be safe in the bathroom. Come on."

"But—" He looked torn. "What if they— what if they try to hurt her?"

"The nurse will stay," said Lillie softly. "And she's got her tablet, so she can just tap it to call security. I promise she'll be fine. Come on."

Amelia nodded once in gratitude, when Lillie glanced over at her one more time. She led Almas over to the bathroom, tiptoeing just in case; the nurse looked confused, but didn't call them out on it. They locked the door, and Lillie left the light off. Almas laid down flat on the floor in the darkness, peering out from the thin crack remaining.

"I'll see them," said Wicke finally. "But I would prefer for you to remain in the room with us, and do not draw their attention to what just occurred."

"Um— understood, Ms. Wicke." There was a silence, punctuated with more distant footsteps until the door opened wider. Lillie, lying down next to Almas on her stomach, noted a pair of shiny black patent-leather shoes, followed by a pair of slightly more worn brown loafers. The loafers were accompanied by a the hem of a navy-blue skirt.

"Where is our daughter?"

Almas flinched violently, curling back from the door. Lillie didn't blame him; the volume of the woman's strident voice would make anyone flinch.

"How would I know?" returned Amelia politely. "This is a medical ward, and I must ask you to keep your voice down or I will call security to have you removed."

"How dare you," hissed a male voice. "We know she's here. You're committing a crime by harboring a runaway. We're her parents, we have the right to know where she is."

There was a long pause. "I have many professions and qualifications," said Amelia, and her voice was possibly the coldest that Lillie had ever heard it. "Among those is the title of guardian ad litem. Do you know what that is?"

"I don't care what the hell you're talking about, you stupid woman. Give us back our daughter, or we'll press charges."

"A guardian ad litem," continued Amelia, as though Almas's father had not spoken, "is a person who cares for a child when their parents cannot be trusted or deemed fit to do so in a court of law."

"What are you implying?" screeched Almas's mother.

"Oh, did it come across as an implication? My mistake. I should have just said it outright. As a guardian ad litem, I am informing you that neither of you are fit to act as parents to Almas. Your son—"

"DAUGHTER!" roared Almas's father. "You're as bad as she is, you upstart bitch! Playing dress-up and acting the tomboy. She's sick, and you're indulging this— this perversion."

"Your son," said Amelia, again ignoring the interruption, "is happier and safer here than he has ever been with you. I understand that you are concerned, but I must question you as to the motive of your concern."

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you only want your son back so you can punish him for something over which he has no control."

"STOP CALLING OUR DAUGHTER A BOY!" screamed Almas's mother.

"You don't have a daughter! You have a son!"

Lillie had never heard Amelia shout that loudly before.

"You're delusional—"

"No, you listen to me!" Amelia was furious. "I have watched far too many children be hurt by their parents in my life, and until recently I have been unable to do anything about it. I don't care who you think Almas is, because you're wrong. I know who he is. I will shelter him from you for the rest of my life, if I must! How dare you walk into my home and demand back the child you beat nearly to death not even two years ago? How dare you come here and demand the custody of a child who is terrified of every adult he meets, because the two of you impressed upon him the idea that he must never tell someone about what goes on in your home? How dare you act as though you have the right to raise a child that you have abused?"

Almas was completely frozen next to her. Lillie couldn't even hear him breathing.

"She's ours under the law!"

"The law also mandates that it is illegal to harm a child who depends on you for food, shelter, and emotional support. You've deprived Almas of all three of those things and more and therefore, in my eyes, both of you deserve to rot in jail for the rest of your miserable lives. You're lucky that I've been abominably busy lately, or I would have served you with a lawsuit the very moment I learned that you had ever harmed a hair on his body."

"So she is here!"

There was a short sigh. "Jenna, please have Mr. and Mrs. Karim escorted to the ferry station."

"Sir, ma'am, if you could—"

"We're not leaving without our daughter!"

"Oh, you certainly are, because there's no daughter of yours on this island." Lillie heard several loud taps on a hard surface; that was the tablet. "I'm having you blacklisted from the ferry station."

"We can come by Ride Pager!" said Almas's mother triumphantly.

"Oh, excellent," said Amelia, with vicious glee. "You've stated your intention to return and harass me some more about it. In that case, I'm going to be pressing charges for harassment."

"You can't prove—"

"I've been recording this entire conversation."

"That's illegal!"

"No, it's not. Don't try to tell me what's illegal and what isn't. I'm a lawyer and I will call you on anything that so much as hints of bullshit. Alola is a one-party consent state, which means that I am allowed to record any conversation I like. The entire Paradise is also monitored by camera, and there are multiple signs stating such throughout the facility. You have no grounds to stand on."

"We'll come back with a warrant," spat Almas's father.

"Oh, I invite you to try." Amelia's voice was icy. "You won't get very far, but it will be entertaining to watch. Almas has been seeing medical professionals for both his physical and mental health, and the cursory physical examinations have revealed some incorrectly healed bones— bones which you broke nineteen months previously, before throwing him out of your house. That constitutes child abandonment, and Almas will gladly testify to all prior abuse. You haven't got so much as a leg to stand on."

The door opened, and several more people shuffled in. Lillie spotted the all-white sneakers of the security team.

"Sir, ma'am," said one of them politely. "Please come with us, or we will have to resort to removing you by force."

"Fine!" shouted Almas's mother. "We'll be back!"

"Good," snapped Amelia. "The quicker you come back, the quicker I can have you thrown in jail. Get them the fuck out of my sight."

The patent-leather shoes left; the loafers and navy hem followed; and the white sneakers went last of all.

"I'm so sorry," began the nurse. "I had no idea—"

"It's all right, Jenna," said Amelia quietly. "You did the right thing. Please notify security that Binyamin and Sabriya Karim are blacklisted from the Aether Paradise, and that if they are seen violating these terms they are to be removed immediately."

"Yes, ma'am." More footsteps, and the nurse's green sneakers vanished; then the door closed.

"Lillie?" said Amelia.

Lillie got up and opened the bathroom door. Almas still hadn't moved, but he was breathing now— breathing much too quickly. Lillie made as though to touch him, but he flinched away, backing into the dark bathroom and curling in a ball.

"Lillie," repeated Amelia.

"Almas is— He's having a—"

"I know, Lillie. I have Jeong Ki-moon's cell phone number on my tablet and I am sending it to your phone. Please call him and put him on speaker, explain the situation, and leave your phone in the bathroom with Almas."

Amelia sounded tired. Ki-moon's info popped up on Lillie's phone as soon as she opened it. She quickly saved the number and pressed the button to call.

"Um, hello?"

"Hi, it's Lillie." She glanced over at Amelia, who nodded once and folded her hands in her lap. "Um, so Almas's parents showed up looking for him and we were hiding in Amelia's bathroom. They left, but he's curled up in a ball and not talking. I'm going to put you on speaker and leave my phone with him?"

"Yes, oh my god, thank you so much." Ki-moon sounded slightly breathless. "Jer and I are coming right now, we're going to grab Molly and Rog on the way. Plumeria if we can find her."

"You're welcome." Lillie put the phone on speaker, then knelt next to Almas— he flinched away again— and set the phone down. "Okay, the phone is next to him."

"Great, thank you. Al? Al, honey, can you hear me? It's okay—"

Lillie quietly closed the bathroom door, muffling Ki-moon's soothing mantra, and turned to Amelia, who was staring at her folded hands.

"Amelia?"

"Sometimes," said Amelia, "I feel an illogical urge to offer you and Gladion apologies for Lusamine's behavior."

Her voice was almost a whisper.

"You can't control what she did." Lillie pulled one of the chairs over to Amelia's bed, leaning over to gently hug her before sitting down.

"I wish I could have responded like that to her."

Lillie blinked.

"I wish," continued Amelia, and her voice was ragged, "that I could have screamed and shouted at her. I wish I could have told her how much I had grown to despise her, because of the things she said and did to you and Gladion. I wish I could have chased her away from you with the threat of the law. I wish I could have made it so she could never hurt either of you again."

"If you had, she would have fired you," pointed out Lillie. "And then we really would have been alone."

Amelia lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. "I made an offer to Gladion, when he was first planning on running away," she said. "I suggested kidnapping you and taking the two of you to start a new life in Kanto. Sometimes I wish I'd done that anyway." A note of bitterness crept into her voice. "At least I would have done something, instead of just sitting here and watching her abuse you."

"Then you would be a criminal," pointed out Lillie, "and we wouldn't ever have met Hau or Moon. Or— or Almas."

Amelia's eyes rose from her folded hands to fix on Lillie's, with clear surprise in them.

"I know you love him," said Lillie. "He was really worried about it, you know. He thought that maybe Gladion and I might resent him, because you're sort of the same to us as you are to him. And I was a little jealous at first, but he makes you happy."

One of the folded hands rose, reaching out to brush against Lillie's face. "Don't think for a moment that I don't love you and Gladion just as much," she murmured.

Lillie inhaled sharply.

"Don't you dare think that. Our relationship is more complex, because the dynamics of both Arbutus and Lusamine. If I were a man, it would be different, I think— neither of you knew Arbutus terribly well, so it might be that you could have seen me as a true father. But I am a woman, and Lusamine has been so very present in your lives in the worst way possible; so I know that— thinking of me in the context of motherhood is difficult, for both of you."

Lillie laughed, wiping away tears. "Maybe you really should have been a psychologist."

Amelia let out a small chuckle of her own, and Lillie reached for a tissue from the box by the bed to dab away those tears as well. "Perhaps. But I have no reason to attempt to maintain a polite relationship with Almas's birth parents, and they don't have any power over me. It was terribly liberating to say to them what I did."

"I wish I could have seen your face as you said it," said Lillie. "But we were both listening, and I don't know if Almas could focus on what you were saying at all."

"I doubt it." Amelia paused, looking back down at her hands. "If— if you wish it, we could file for adult adoption when you turn eighteen. It's really just a formality, since at that point you would be an adult and would no longer have any legal ties to your mother. I have made the same offer to Gladion, but he was well past eighteen and he made the surprisingly satisfying point that remaining Lusamine's son in name, while refusing to treat her like a mother when she refused to treat him like a son, would sting more for her than it would for him. But she favored you, and it might be different."

Lillie considered. "This is a long shot," she said cautiously, and she could already feel her cheeks burning. "But— someday, in the event that I— that Hau and I, maybe..." She trailed off.

"That you get married?"

"Yes, that." Lillie cleared her throat. "In the event of, um, that— I would be taking his last name anyway. And, um— I would want you to give me away. So I don't see the point in changing my name now, if I might be changing it in a few years anyway."

"I see." There was something warm in Amelia's voice. "I would be honored to do that for you, Lillie."

"But even if— even if I don't," she added quickly, "you're more of a mother than Lusamine ever was. And if Almas says yes, he wants you to adopt him, then— I understand, and I would be very happy for you."

Amelia's hand rose again, resting against Lillie's face. "I understand if you need time to adjust."

"I've never had a little brother," said Lillie primly, delighting in the way that what was visible of Amelia's face under the cast went bright red. "Not that Almas is all that much younger than me, but I'm quite a bit taller than he is, which makes him by definition a little brother."

"That he is," murmured Wicke, and there was something grateful in her eyes. "I hope in time you will come to love him for himself, and not just because I— because I am fond of him."

"Because you love him," Lillie corrected her. "Don't feel like you have to hide that, Amelia. Dr. Winberry says we shouldn't apologize for our emotions."

"I must remember to thank Dr. Winberry for being an excellent therapist." Amelia's smile was soft. "I am so very proud of you, Lillie Katherine Mohn. So very, very proud."

Chapter Text

Hau turned his key in the lock, opened the door, and called, "Hey, Mom, I'm home!"

The house echoed after his call, and he frowned at the lack of response until he reached the kitchen, where he found a note with his name on it and a pan of freshly baked brownies.

Hau— ran down to Kap's to borrow some breadcrumbs. Gramps said you

should head up to the Ruins for your lesson. —Mom

P.S. DO NOT EAT THE ENTIRE PAN. Please limit yourself to a row or less.

"Fair enough."

Time, in Hau's humble opinion, was dragging. It had been about five weeks since all of the Rainbow Rocket shenanigans had gone down, but it seemed longer. He'd been staying at Aether Paradise to support Moon while she was helping clean up and doing some Champion-related stuff, but it was nice to come home every few days for his "kahuna lessons" with Gramps. It felt more normal than anything else that had happened that month, that was for sure.

He carved a smooth row of brownies out from the end of the pan, carefully slicing the row into five fat pieces, and stacked them on half a paper towel before getting himself a glass of milk from the fridge. The virtues of cookies and milk were evident to most people, but Hau was willing to bet that those who were wise enough to understand the ways of brownies and milk were considerably rarer; and he didn't wholly blame them. To be fair, his mom's brownies didn't really need milk. They were fudgy and soft without being completely raw in the middle, and she used real cocoa powder and the good vanilla so the flavors were an explosion of richness on the tongue. But most baked goods were better with milk. Cookies, brownies, cake, donuts— you name it, it improved with milk.

The exception to this, of course, was malasadas. Malasadas didn't need a goddamn thing to be the most delicious food on the planet, and he would remain in that camp until he died.

When the brownies had been appropriately and deliciously disposed of and washed down, he ducked back outside, re-locking the door, and began his walk through Iki Town to head up to the Ruins of Conflict.

"Hey, Akiona!"

On the one hand: it would be so terribly easy to make an excuse. To say, "sorry, can't stay to chat, my grandad is waiting for me."

On the other hand: that was Ricky Walu, and Hau hadn't seen Ricky Walu since the graduation ceremony of his freshman year of high school; and it would be the polite thing to catch up briefly because Gramps hadn't exactly put a time limit on when he needed to be at the Ruins.

Time hadn't really been kind to Ricky. It looked like he'd kept up working out, but he seemed to have lost quite a lot of weight with it, and not in a healthy way— his cheekbones stuck out too sharply, in a way that faintly reminded him of Lillie and that wasn't at all a thought that he was comfortable having. The summer of the Malasada Stone had occurred just after the whole bullying thing went down, and Hau had to blink in surprise when he realized he was now nearly a head taller than Ricky.

Huh. He must have grown a couple more inches. The last he remembered, Ricky was six foot even, which meant that Hau had to be six four at the very least.

"Walu," he said, because Ricky had called him by his last name and that was something that they did on the rugby team, call each other by last names. "It's been a minute."

"Yeah," said Ricky, and for a few long moments he didn't say anything. His hands were shoved in his pockets, he had some ratty beard scruff, and there was a very healthy resentment in his eyes. "So, you're a big-shot Trainer now, huh?"

Ricky's tone was mean, mean, mean. It was funny how a sound could bring you back to days you didn't want to remember; and in that sense he found that he could understand Lillie and Gladion and some of the Team Skull kids, like Almas, so much better. "Something like that, sure."

"Friends with the Champion... saving all those people at Aether. No need to be modest about it."

Hau eyed him warily. "Funny, because it kind of sounds like you're trying to get me to say something that will give you an acceptable reason to throw the first punch."

Okay, maybe that was unnecessarily hostile, but he wasn't an idiot. He could hear Ricky itching for a fight.

Ricky glared at him. "You ruined my life, Akiona," he said, and there went any pretense of civility. "I was getting scouted for a rugby scholarship in Galar, and then you got me kicked off the team. I lost any chance I had at going pro, because you couldn't keep your fucking mouth shut."

Hau regarded him for a few moments. "Walu," he said patiently, "I've had to deal with some people over the last few weeks and months who are like, actually delusional. So I don't have any patience for you trying to blame me for problems that you created for yourself just by virtue of being a massive jerk."

So, the guy who Lillie had punched out a few weeks ago had made like, one step toward them with clenched fists. Hau had just loomed over him, used height and width to his advantage, and suggested that he back the hell off. It had mostly been a bluff, because he was eighteen and he was pretty sure that kid was only a sophomore or a junior. He could get arrested as an adult if he punched someone who wasn't one.

But Ricky Walu wasn't a kid, and he wasn't going to be intimidated by Hau's height and broad shoulders. And he was twenty-one, so Hau didn't have any qualms about hitting him.

And the thing was— Hau knew how to hit people. He wasn't a straight-up brawler like Gladion, but back in high school Cassie had taught him some of the basics of judo, to compliment the weight-lifting regimen he'd started after quitting rugby (when he realized that a lot of malasadas without the benefit of calorie-burning exercise led to more flab than proper bulk). Hau was a big guy, sure— but he was strong enough to carry that weight. Not exactly ripped, not perfectly proportionate— but he knew how to hit someone.

He also knew when not to hit someone. So when Ricky rushed him (telegraphing everything by shouting, seriously? that was such an amateur move)— Hau stepped to one side, stuck an arm out, and clotheslined the guy.

His arm smacked solidly into Ricky's throat, and Ricky just... bounced off. And fell over, wheezing for air because Hau might have accidentally closed his windpipe by flexing his biceps at exactly the right moment.

(He really, really shouldn't brag about that or even be proud of it. But he was proud, and he probably would brag to Lillie and Moon and Gladion at the very least.)

Hau watched him for a few moments, waiting until Ricky uncurled and sat up. He offered a hand, and Ricky stared at him incredulously.

"Have you got that out of your system?"

"Oh, fuck you," snarled Ricky.

"Look, I don't have anything against you." Hau kept his hand stretched out. "If it had been anyone else pulling that crap with the freshmen, I'd have reported them just the same as I did you. There's a line between mild hazing and actual bullying, and you didn't just cross that line— you pissed all over it and waved your dick in our faces." He'd gotten that phrase from Jeremiah, who had a certain way with words. Ricky's face twitched with both involuntary amusement and repressed fury. "And I did tell them it wasn't just you. You were the main instigator, so you got the harshest punishment. But the other seniors all had detentions and reduced field time and stuff like that."

"You're a snitch," said Ricky, and okay, that actually did hurt a little because it was something he'd sort of been obsessing over ever since Ricky had been kicked off the team. "You're a fucking narc and you ruined my life."

"You ruined your own life, dude. You ruined it the second you decided that being the captain of a high school sports team meant that you got to beat up and humiliate kids who were looking to you for leadership. You should have been a role model, someone to look up to. I wanted to look up to you, Ricky. I really did. Gramps and my dad both played rugby when they were in high school and I've always loved it. But you were mean through, and you picked on us for no reason and you ruined it for me. I can't respect anyone who's so small on the inside that they feel like they have to tear people down to make them equal."

Something golden and angry was simmering at the edges of his vision; and Ricky's dark eyes widened, fixed on Hau's own.

"That's—" He croaked.

Hau cocked his head to the side. "That's what?" he said, keeping his voice deceptively innocent, as the gold faded away.

Ricky swallowed. "Nothing," he muttered, blinking rapidly and looking away. "Nothing. I just— I thought I saw something."

Hau knew perfectly well what Ricky had seen, but he wasn't about to confirm Koko's presence in his head. That was something that shouldn't get out and around until Gramps and Hau decided they were damn well ready to make that announcement.

He waited a few more moments, still holding out his hand. Ricky stared at him, eyebrows rising; but finally he reached out and accepted Hau's hand to help him up.

"When you say I ruined your life," said Hau— carefully, because sometimes he was tactless but he tried not to be malicious— "do you mean like, you haven't been able to hold down a job? Did you do the island challenge or anything like that?"

Ricky's face twisted bitterly. "No, I didn't do the fucking island challenge," he spat. "The fucking professor wasn't going to trust me with any kind of starter Pokémon once you ruined my reputation."

"So it's just been jobs." Hau kept his voice level.

"Yes, asshole, it's just been jobs."

"Okay. Listen, if you head over to Poni Island—"

"And why the fuck would I do that?"

"I'll explain that, if you actually let me finish my sentence," said Hau pleasantly. Ricky glared, but subsided. "Now, if you head over to Poni Island and make your way out to Kahuna Hapu's house, I bet you anything she can get you a job. It's hard labor, but you did rugby. You might have let some stuff go since then; but I know what it takes to do rugby, and I know you can get it back. Kahuna Hapu trains Machamp and Mudsdale for the Ride Pagers. There's a lot of heavy physical labor involved in that. The Machamp literally do weight-lifting, they've got like, an entire gym in one of the barns. And the Mudsdale eat wheat and hay and oats and they have a couple of fields of it so they can feed them for cheaper during the winter, and fieldwork is hard stuff. It's just Kahuna Hapu, her grandma, her aunt, and two cousins who are more in charge of the Ride Pager stuff. That's not a lot of people, working on a pretty big job. And Kahuna Hapu would pay you more than fairly; she's generous like that." Hau hesitated, then added, "And Poni Island— it isn't here. People wouldn't recognize you. Your reputation wouldn't matter there."

Ricky didn't say anything.

"Just think about it," advised Hau. "Look, I've got somewhere to be, but honestly I have worried about you sometimes. I don't regret what I did, because it was absolutely the right thing to do and I'd do it again. But I also know that you were a teenager, and sometimes teenagers are little shits for a whole bunch of reasons. It was never my intention for you to be unable to find or hold down a job because I wanted you to stop bullying me and the other freshmen."

Ricky still said nothing, so Hau offered him an awkward bro-nod and kept walking, shoving his hands in his pockets and heading uphill toward the Ruins of Conflict. He did discreetly check behind him, to make sure Ricky wasn't following him; and once he got to the head of Mahalo Trail he paused and pulled out his phone.

Chat: hapu & the tapu: bop bop bop, bop to the top

yellow: yo hapu what up

yellow: this is hau akiona, idk if u already had my #

purple: I did, but thank you for your consideration.

purple: I am well, thank you for inquiring. How are you?

yellow: im p good but i need a favor

yellow: srry 4 puttin u on the spot

purple: I will do my best to accommodate you, if I can. What do you need?

yellow: ok so long story short u might be seeing sm1 from melemele soon who needs a job

yellow: i knew him in high school & he's not doin so hot these days

yellow: used 2 play rugby so he's like S T R O N K

yellow: hes also havin a hard time getting a job b/c i mightve gotten him kicked off the rugby team back in the day 4 being a bully

yellow: it was like a Whole Mess, like gramps had 2 get involved & everything

yellow: anyway my point is he's strong & needs a job & ppl on melemele wont hire him b/c they just remember he was a bully

yellow: & i kno i did the right thing by reporting him but he's kinda been in a bad place ever since & if he's willing to try, i think he deserves a chance to redeem himself

yellow: so if u have any work that needs done like in ur oat and wheat fields, or like shoveling manure or w/e... pls consider him

yellow: or if u kno any1 on poni who needs a manual laborer, u can send him there

purple: I see.

purple: I would want to hire him on a term of probation, to ensure that he is not inclined to be abusive toward the Pokémon, but an extra set of hands would be very appreciated.

yellow: omg thank u so much

yellow: i cant guarantee that hes gonna show up b/c i just kinda suggested it as an alternative 2 punching me in the face, which he clearly wanted 2 do

yellow: but if he does show up that would b a good sign that he rlly does want to change n do better

yellow: i would b super grateful!!!! ive kinda been worrying abt him

yellow: like i kno i did the right thing. i did. but i still feel guilty even tho i know i shouldnt

purple: I understand. Sometimes I feel guilty that I wasn't able to train as a kahuna with my grandfather before he passed away, but that was neither my fault nor his.

purple: And your grandfather, Kahuna Olivia, and even Kahuna Nanu to an extent have been very helpful in assisting me with learning the things I have needed to learn.

purple: Do you by chance have this young man's contact information?

yellow: no, srry

yellow: his name is ricky walu

yellow: hes about 6 ft tall, buzzed head, whiskers, muscley but also looks like he could use ten meals or so

purple: I will be on the lookout for him, then. Thank you.

yellow: yw but also thank u

yellow: srsly thank u so much i rlly appreciate it

purple: In the future, you might show your appreciation by typing legibly? I've had to have my cousins help me decipher what it is you're saying, but that isn't practical in the long-term.

yellow: omg SAVAGE

yellow: but yea i can use my grown-up words if it will help haha

* * * * *

Gramps was waiting for him, sitting with crossed legs on the packed earth of the path leading to the Ruins proper. "Good afternoon," he said cheerfully. "Have you eaten?"

"I had some brownies and milk."

"Good. We will be here for some time— I can guarantee you will be starving when we get back to the house." He uncrossed his legs, laid down, rolled over, and rose to his knees. Hau offered a hand to help him up and found himself pulled into a hug.

"I have been sent screenshots of a text conversation you had just now," said his grandfather quietly, arms tightening around Hau's shoulders. "And perhaps it was a bit rude, but Koko thought I should be privy to what just happened to you in Iki Town, so he brought me with him to watch."

On the one hand, that was a little weird. On the other hand, it meant that Gladion and Nanu had probably gotten to do the whole Magical Mental Eavesdropping business, and abruptly Hau was grateful that he was not Gladion or Nanu or Tapu Bulu, because that would be uncomfortable. He'd been aware that Tapu Koko was watching, and that he'd done the cool golden eye flashing thing to very specifically intimidate Ricky.

It was part of what had happened during the initial rugby incident. When Hau had gone up the chain to report the bullying, with no results, and finally had to talk to Gramps about it, Gramps had descended on Hau'oli City High School and the athletics department with absolute blazing fury. Hau had never seen his grandfather so angry in his whole life.

He'd watched as his grandfather berated the school board, and the at-the-time principal, and the athletics director, and the rugby coach, and finally Ricky Walu and his friends who had joined in on the bullying. Hala's eyes were ordinarily the same deep, charcoal-grey that Hau's own eyes were, but one of his strongest memories of that time was of his grandfather roaring at a conference room of terrified school administrators with golden rage simmering in his eyes.

Ricky would have remembered that. And the flash of gold that Tapu Koko had lent to Hau— he would know what that meant, too.

"Will Ricky give away that I'm going to be the next kahuna, do you think?"

Gramps huffed out a quiet breath of laughter. "My boy, I really do hate to say this— but who would believe him if he did?"

"Okay, yeah, good point." Hau winced. "So, um. You saw that."

"I did, and I am even prouder of you than I have been before." Gramps took a step back, resting his hands on Hau's shoulders. "It is something I worried about with you. When you first set out on your island challenge, you had some difficulty with being unable to defeat Moon in battle. I worried about whether that would change you. Whether you would become bitter, and feel it was your due to win at least once."

"No way," said Hau, shaking his head. "Victory has to be earned, you know? And Moon earns it every single time we battle. I've defeated everyone else I've battled, except for Gladion— okay, I actually did beat him a couple of times. We're pretty evenly matched."

"Victory has to be earned," repeated Gramps thoughtfully. "Hmm. That is wisdom, and I may steal that phrase from you, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," said Hau, grinning. "It's not every day a kahuna wants to quote you on something."

"Perhaps not, but kahunas quote one another all the time. And the things you have said and done today indicate to me that I never had to worry about you growing bitter or entitled. You are gracious in defeat as well as in victory, and that is something that many trial captains and kahunas find difficult when they are first starting out." Hala's smile was soft, and a little pained. "In reprimanding Ricky Walu for his poor behavior, I fear I may have taken his dignity from him. You have offered him a way to restore that. Hau Mikaere Akiona, you are a good man, and I am honored to know you."

Hau's breath caught in his chest, because he knew Gramps loved him and wanted the best for him and celebrated his victories and comforted him in his defeats and all the things that you did for each other when you were part of a happy, functional family— but this was different. This wasn't just Gramps saying "wow, you've grown up to be a good person;" this was Gramps looking at him the way he might look at any adult he wasn't related to, and telling them that he was impressed with something they'd done.

This was not just love. It was respect.

Hau guessed that Gramps wasn't really going to blame him for digging his face into his shoulder and crying for a couple of minutes, because— well, Gramps had been one of his role models for as long as he could remember and that was like, some god-tier affirmation right there. (Literally god-tier. Or nature-spirit tier. Whatever Koko actually was.)

This is similar to how my red brother seeks to restore the honor of his island?

Hau glanced up to see Tapu Koko, emerging from the stone door. His dark face was expressionless as usual, but there was limpid, amused curiosity in electric-blue eyes.

Very similar. Holy shit that was Gramps. He could hear Gramps in his head. Hau turned to stare at his grandfather with wide eyes, and Gramps merely winked in response.

Hmm. Well, you do not seem to be sulking about it the way my brother does, so I imagine it is altogether a good thing.

"I didn't have to ask Tapu Fini about sending Ricky over to Poni, did I?" said Hau, suddenly worried. "I asked Hapu, but maybe they both have a say?"

Of course my sister has a say, but her human partner would have brought her attention to the message the moment she understood it. And I doubt that Fini would have any objection. The only time any of us do not want any particular human or beast on our lands is if we are not altogether certain we can protect the other beasts from them.

Hau thought about this for a few moments, because Gramps was watching him with a slight smile on his face.

"Like Van?" he suggested. "He's been outside of the control of human government because of that deal the Foxes made, ten years back. So humans don't have any control over what he does, and that means Nanu couldn't legally do anything to stop him and that means Bulu couldn't either, because Bulu doesn't answer to the government but Nanu does. And I know they do like, nasty Pokémon deathmatch fights and all kinds of crap."

That is the most prominent, certainly. Can you think of another? It is a shrewder one, and you will not understand everything that occurred, as it began before you were so much as a scrap of genetic code... but you have a good sense of intuition when you are here, in the place where I have chosen to cultivate your power.

Good lord, it felt like Moon had taken over his brain because that statement made him want to ask so many questions— genetic code? intuition?? cultivating my power??!?— but he brushed them aside (with considerably greater ease than his cousin might have done) and focused on the question that was asked.

When would the Tapus need to protect Pokémon, was a facet of that question; and the answer to that was, when they're being threatened, whether by humans or Pokémon. And then the follow-up question to that was: who is threatening Pokémon?

"The Aether Foundation," he said, surprising himself with how quickly he found the answer. "Not when it was first started, because it's supposed to be a place that protects Pokémon. But it's not a real island, and there isn't a Tapu there; so you don't have jurisdiction there, none of you do. When Lusamine went nuts, they started hurting Pokémon on her say-so and there wasn't anything you could do."

Correct. We could only come there if we were called upon by a human whose jurisdiction does extend there— a human whose power we accept as an authority not equal to, but parallel to our own.

"You mean Moon!" Several things settled firmly into place. "Oh my god, I get it! You guys all knew that there was some shady stuff going on there, and that the Pokémon of Alola were suffering, but you couldn't do anything because it's not your place, and the Aether Paradise can't really have a legendary Pokémon to guard it because it's not like, a natural part of the earth— so that's why you guys were all pleased with the League! That's why you picked Moon to be the Champion!"

"Ko-ko-ko-ko!" Koko only really made verbal noises when he was attacking or communicating with a large group of people; but this sounded like laughter. You are quick.

"Can I please tell her this? She's having a really hard time right now, because there are some jerks at Interpol who've been giving her a hard time about her asking you to dispose of those Rainbow Rocket nutjobs, and she's been freaking out that she's an eighteen-year-old barely-adult who can ask the gods to do stuff and they actually listen. She would be really, really comforted to know it."

There was a long silence.

Yes, you may tell her, said Koko finally. As long as she does not misuse this information, or speak of it to anyone who does not already understand.

"She won't."

There are humans who would learn this information and believe that they could somehow gain authority over us by virtue of taking the Champion's seat. Power like this is more potent in Alola than it is elsewhere, which is why we have been so hesitant for so long to follow in the footsteps of other nations. But it was necessary. The beasts of space do not understand the value of life in the same way we do, and they cause harm and chaos because of this lack of understanding. Without one of us to intervene, doors were opened that should have remained closed. The creation of the Beast Killers, though we do not begrudge them life, came from arrogance and crazed grief; and the torture of a young Luna caused more heartbreak among us than any of you have yet understood.

And that— that made so much more sense than anything else he'd heard. What it came down to, really, was that when Moon saw something she thought was wrong, she would be the first to speak up, to say hey, how about you don't do that. And it didn't matter that she was young and from another country— in fact, it was better, at least to begin with, because she wasn't going to feel as constrained by Alolan cultural values— one of which, Hau had learned in his dealings with Ricky Walu, was "don't rock the boat."

Alolans as a whole were a relaxed people, which was in some ways pretty great. Most people didn't care what color you were, or what you wore, or who you dated; but it meant that abusive situations (like Ricky bullying freshmen, like Cassie's parents screeching at her whenever she did anything they didn't approve of, like Lillie and Gladion being trapped in a cold, sterile house by their awful mother) festered and grew, because most people just didn't care enough to try to stop them.

Moon cared. Good god, did Moon care. She cared so much that it was eating her up from the inside out— but that was why they picked her, and that was why she was doing such an astonishingly good job; and she needed to know that as soon as humanly possible. He was going to have dinner with his family and then hightail it back to the Paradise, so he could tell her this and hope that maybe, somehow, it would get through to her.

I did not realize it was taking such a toll upon her.

That was Gramps, in his head again; and he sounded remorseful. Hau hesitated, then made the effort to convey his own thoughts, which was— weird, but he managed to pull it off.

She's been trying really hard to hold it together, he told them, but she's still— I think you understand what I mean when I say she's only human.

You are the same way as she, said Koko. Wishing to protect, and to serve; and that is why I chose you. It is why my brother chose your friend who is journeying, and it is why Luna... well, that is not for me to say. And you are taking comfort in this as well?

There was a question in his voice.

"Well, yes. Moon's my best friend, and she's been upset. If there's anything I can do to help her I'm going to do it, no questions asked. And yeah, it's nice to know that this thing that's been part of my personality, but has sometimes caused me a bit of grief or inconvenience, is like— a thing that made you notice me enough to decide I could do this. Sometimes doing the right thing is really hard, and sometimes it feels like there isn't really any point because nobody will appreciate it. So it's— it's nice to know that it wasn't for nothing. That in the end, it was worth it."

* * * * *

Something that Gramps had always done, for as long as Hau had known him, was meditation. He had never quite been able to fix a pattern to when or where the meditation occurred. Sometimes he had come home from school to find Gramps in the battle arena at the center of Iki Town, legs crossed and hands folded in his lap. Sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night and go downstairs for a snack and come across Gramps sitting in the middle of the living room, with the TV on but muted and his eyes closed. On one memorable occasion, before the whole Ricky thing, he'd been walking home with a few of the guys in the evening after rugby practice when one of them laughingly pointed out Kahuna Hala on the roof of Hau's house, with golden twilight wafting in the air around them.

There wasn't actually a pattern, he learned— it was based on Gramps' emotional state. When he was feeling particularly upset or stressed out, he would try to find somewhere quiet and calm himself. And Koko, surprisingly, mentioned that he found Gramps' meditation just as relaxing as Gramps did, and thus would usually endeavor to be present during the meditation sessions.

"But it isn't required," said Gramps.

"Huh?"

"Meditation. It isn't required. I know little Hapu practices it regularly, and Olivia has admitted that it's a delicate combination of daily meditation, melatonin at night, and truly alarming amounts of caffeine during the day that have kept her going as long as she has. I'm not sure if Ishmael does it anymore. I know he used to, before Foxglove."

Hau frowned. "If he doesn't do it, he might not have told Gladion about it."

"You make a good point." Gramps's brow furrowed into a matching frown. "I hesitate to bring it up with either of them, however. Ishmael will see it as me trying to tell him how to do his job, which is one of the only things that truly angers him."

"Oh my god," said Hau, horrified. "Moon and I went to challenge him for Acerola's petal for Mina's trial and I straight-up told him he was doing a bad job. Wow, I feel really bad now."

"That is different," Gramps was quick to assure him. "At the time, you did not know you were going to be the kahuna, so he would not have taken offense to it. And it was all for the best that you did. I advise you not to apologize unless it comes up naturally in conversation. He gets very grumpy about what he perceives as calculated apologies, and what the rest of us would refer to simply as apologies." He cleared his throat. "At any rate, I don't think you should mention it to Gladion, either— at least, not in the context of kahuna lessons. I know Ishmael has given Gladion a few lessons, but he is not a very good teacher even when he is in a good mood. Gladion may resent Ishmael, if he realizes I am teaching you things with which Ishmael has not bothered."

"Maybe if I like, approach it as a therapy technique?" Hau scratched his head. "Lillie said she tried mediation with her therapist a few times, and she says it doesn't really do much for her and she prefers journaling..." And burning everything she wrote afterward, because of an ingrained paranoia that Lusamine would read her journals— a justified paranoia, because when Lillie was thirteen and a half Lusamine had done just that, in front of all the guests at a fancy dinner party she threw right after Gladion ran away.

It had been, Lillie told him, the first time she realized that Lusamine had played favorites between the two of them; and the first time she realized that Lusamine had a sick fascination with humiliating people.

"Hau?"

"Yeah, sorry. I don't know if Gladion would take really well to meditation, but I'll ask him about it for sure."

Gramps studied him for a few moments, then nodded. "I find," he said serenely, "that meditation often ends up being a time where I spend time alone first, to soothe my heartbeat and breathing pattern into something more gentle; and once I have achieved that serenity, Koko will come to chat with me and we discuss issues in privacy, without unnerving anyone around us. If you are meditating nearby other people, I recommend speaking within the mental bond. It is a little unnerving, I am told, to watch someone talk to thin air and see their eyes change color when they are listening to something or someone who is not present. But if you are alone, feel free to address him aloud."

"Okay, that's pretty cool. It's like calling a team meeting, but not in a weird bureaucratic way."

"Yes, you could think of it that way. We're Team Melemele," said Gramps with a grin, indicating himself and Koko. "Welcome to the team."

"Thanks." Hau grinned back.

"Ko-ko-ko," chuckled Koko.

"But the original point I was making was this: if you remember something that troubles you, you might try speaking of it to Koko. We feel and think and remember things for a reason. Sometimes, it is helpful to gain an outside perspective, and the simplicity of the Tapus can be very refreshing compared to human complexity. I observed that something you said just now, about Lillie journaling, made you frown with disapproval. Is it something you wish to discuss?"

Hau hesitated. "I mean, it was told to me in confidence," he said doubtfully.

"Oh, you needn't tell me about it," Gramps assured him. "I only wish to know things about Lillie if she wishes to share them. But Koko lives within you, and I know from experience that he is insatiably curious. I suggest you get into the habit of sharing with him when you are upset about something, or he will poke his beak in and dig for it himself— and that is much less pleasant, I assure you, than discussing it as equals."

If it affects your mood so much that it inconveniences me, I wish to know about it, added Koko, eyes glittering in amusement.

And yeah, okay, that was fair. When you shared mental real estate with someone, you were obliged to be a good neighbor, or roommate or what have you.

"I don't know how to just tell him while you're still here, though."

"That will not be an issue." Gramps rose to his feet. "I meditated before you arrived, and I meant for you to stay and meditate privately after I leave. You may take as long or as short as you like. I'll see you at dinner."

"Okay. Thanks, Gramps."

"You're welcome." Gramps waved, and began making his way back to the bridge and Mahalo Trail.

Hau closed his eyes, staying in the cross-legged position that Gramps had recommended— for about a minute and a half, anyway. One of his hamstrings was beginning to cramp, which was not exactly conducive to sitting on the ground.

A former kahuna used to meditate while lying down, suggested Koko.

"I like naps too much for that to work. I would just fall asleep." Hau considered for a few moments, then turned to survey the trees around the clearing. "If I came up here to meditate, would you care if I like, left a hammock or something between a couple of trees? Hammocks are super comfy."

Would that not also present the same issue with falling asleep?

"For other people, sure, but I can't sleep in a hammock unless it's a really, really big one."

You may leave one in my woods at some other time, but it cannot be visible from here. Follow me.

Intrigued, Hau got to his feet and followed Koko as he glided westward, into the jungle treeline. He wouldn't even have noticed it, hidden by tropical shrubs and ferns as it was; but there was a narrow path, twisting and winding in the way that Pokémon paths usually did. Some of the footing was a little tricky— there were a lot of tangled roots and stones to navigate. But after about three minutes, when they had been thoroughly swallowed in a sea of green, the path widened and opened out to a cliff overlooking the ocean.

"Oh," breathed Hau, because it was a hell of a view. Moon would hate it, because they were on the northern side of the waterfall and river that occupied the chasm beneath the bridge to the Ruins. He could see the bridge of Route Three, stretching further up on the northern side to cross the chasm down to the northern edge of Route One. The cliff wasn't navigable by humans, though a Skiddo might have managed it if any of them lived in Alola; there would be no way anyone could come here without the assistance or permission of Koko. He could see the beach below if he went right to the edge; and he could see the spiky rocks that marked the edge of the acceptable swimming area; and beyond that he could see the drop-off from about twenty feet deep to well over a hundred, marking the start of the ocean proper.

It would be prudent for you to ensure that you cannot be seen by anyone crossing that bridge, said Koko, and Hau had the feeling that this wasn't a suggestion so much as a politely phrased demand.

"Yeah, that's fair. Um, it might take me a few weeks to get things set up the way I'd like them, and I probably won't always use this place to meditate— but it will be really nice to have somewhere I can just think and talk with you like this."

Indeed. I can assist with some of your setup, if you would prefer a natural cover.

"What do you mean?"

He had the faintest impression that Koko let out a sigh, but there was no audible noise. I can move boulders for you.

"Oh, really? That would be great." Hau walked back over to the edge of the treeline and sat down on the ground, resting his back against a palm tree and concealing himself from view. "But for now, this works. Sorry about all that."

It is no trouble. You are young, and eager to do well; so I am willing to indulge you. My brother and sisters do the same with their partners.

"Tapu Bulu doesn't seem like the indulgent type."

There was a pause. My brother is troubled, said Koko, after a few moments. Do you remember coming back here with your friend the Champion, to assist the spirit-walker in finding her wayward imp?

The phrasing was funny, and part of him noted that it was really interesting that the Tapus usually didn't call humans by name unless they were talking directly to them; but the mental image that accompanied the question immediately clarified the situation. "Acerola and her Mimikyu? Yeah, I remember."

You were able to sense where the imp was, when you were helping her search. I believe you phrased it thus: that you had a feeling where she wasn't, more than where she was.

"Right, yeah."

Some of that was my influence. I had made my decision about you just before your final year of education, but I kept that carefully hidden from Hala until after you left to travel on other islands. Once he knew and approved of my choice, the island itself began to recognize you as a power to be reckoned with, even though you were not present. When you returned, you began feeling the full effects of it.

"Oh." That had been kind of weird, now that he thought about it; and Acerola had probably totally known what was going on, because she had been weirdly focused on him during that bit. "Well, that's really cool. I had no idea."

I did not mean for you to notice. I have explained this to you because it will help you properly understand what I mean when I tell you that my brother is troubled.

"Like— he doesn't have an understanding of the land, or something?"

Oh, no, my brother understands his land all too well. But he has had to parcel that understanding out to all of his partners: first Ishmael Nanu, and then Foxglove Nishimura, and then Gladion Mohn. This would not be an issue, if he did not have to share with more than one person. Once you are a kahuna you are always a kahuna, even if you must step down due to age or infirmity. And Foxglove Nishimura was not truly gone until his spirit was forcibly removed from the ruined market this year— which was not until after my brother informed Gladion Mohn that he had been chosen. Sharing the magic and knowledge of the land we protect with our chosen partner is easy. Sharing it with two can be a little uncomfortable— and before you ask, you do not yet count, because you are not yet my partner proper. You will understand the difference when you are. Sharing it with two for ten years is more than a little uncomfortable; and then sharing it with three, even if it was just for a few weeks, was almost more than my brother could bear.

Hau's eyes widened. "Shit," he breathed. "That's so— oh, wow. Like, it's already weird to hear you up here. But you said I don't count, so shouldn't Gladion not count either?"

He would not count, if Ishmael Nanu were not rejecting the bond of partnership with his bitterness. Gladion Mohn has more power with my brother than you do with me, not only because he has had it for longer but also because Ishmael Nanu is pushing it all at him as fast as he can possibly manage. It is not his fault, but they are all in pain because of it.

That was— wow. That was a lot to take in. And it made a lot of sense, when he really thought about it. Every island had a kahuna and a Tapu; that was just how it worked. Except for Poké Pelago, but they were too small to be counted as proper islands. But people weren't really meant to have the same power that Pokémon did— exceptions being made for people like Acerola, or from what Hau understood, Kantonian Gym Leader Sabrina— and so if there were two kahunas, it sort of broke the balance and made everybody less powerful. Less stable.

"I sort of thought that Tapu Bulu was kind of like, a murder-happy misanthrope. And I don't mean that blasphemously or disrespectfully; I just thought that was how he was. But if you're telling me it's not actually because he doesn't like people—"

He has been constantly drained of energy for the last ten years by Foxglove Nishimura's parasitic spirit, and has been hurt by Ishmael Nanu's rejection. Is it truly any wonder that between the feeling of being used by a human and the feeling of being rejected by a human, he has lost any desire to connect with humankind?

There was something horrifyingly like sorrow in Koko's eyes. Hau swallowed. "No," he whispered. "No, that's not surprising at all."

And now he really understood why Gladion was going to be the next kahuna— and not just the next kahuna, but a great kahuna. Gladion, too, knew what it felt like to be used and rejected, by someone who wasn't meant to do either. And Gladion also knew what it felt like to take a hit and still rise to keep fighting. Gladion, despite admitting to Hau in private that there were times he'd quite seriously thought about taking his own life, was a fighter. And it wasn't that Nanu wasn't a fighter; it was that he was old and tired and Foxglove had probably hurt him just as much as he'd hurt everyone else.

Gladion's life had been a horrible, messy cycle of shattered hopes and parental betrayal; but he was rebuilding himself, one slow piece at a time. Tapu Bulu had seen that, and had hungered for it. And now Gladion wasn't just going to rebuild himself; he was going to rebuild Ula'ula Island. He was going to rebuild Ishmael Nanu. And in a way, he was even going to rebuild Tapu Bulu himself.

Yes, said Koko, and the mind-voice was little more than a background murmur. You understand.

Chapter Text

So on the whole: the therapy wasn't bad. Plumeria didn't have any sketchy history with Aether other than through G, so her personal therapist was one of the Aether shrinks. She hadn't known this before, but the one they saw together, Grace Walsh— she was a fucking marriage therapist. And she was not just any fucking marriage therapist; she was a marriage therapist who had written several fucking best-selling books but somehow, for some reason, knew Wicke and owed her a favor, and as such was willing to come to the Paradise every week to make her and G fix their relationship.

Because now that she was seeing her own therapist? Plumeria kind of had to admit (and God, it had been hard to admit this) that most of the fucking problems in the relationship had been caused by her.

Being responsible for the lives and welfare of a hundred plus teenagers was stressful, sure. Being responsible for that, on top of doing fucking drug runs and other shady shit, that was even more stressful. And Plumeria— well, it hadn't been a picnic for her, but it also hadn't been easy for G and she had a tendency to assume it was all his fault.

"Why?" said Dr. Walsh placidly.

"Why what?"

"Why is it his fault?"

Plumeria opened her mouth to answer this, and found that— no, there wasn't actually a reason. Not one she could explain. G was looking at her, his expression soft and open and a little hurt; and that made her heart clench and splinter, made her lungs burn with fiery shame.

"I don't know," she admitted finally. "I don't know, but I know it's wrong now that I like, actually realize I'm doing it. Shit."

"It's not just on you, dumbass," said G, almost angry. "I thought it was my fault too."

Plumeria shook her head, slowly. "Maybe, but I probably reinforced that, didn't I? Pretending I was— that I was some kind of martyr. Pretending that just because you got loud when you were angry meant that you were— savage, or stupid. I— oh my god. Shit. I never should have done that."

"Well, you're not wrong—"

"No! G, you don't get it. You're not fucking stupid, okay? You're not! You're not even thirty fucking years old, and for the last ten years you've been spending your entire life making sure that a generation's worth of kids and teenagers who've already been shit on by the entire world are safe from being forced to choose the Foxes by default. You took a shitty situation and you twisted it so you could give kids options. That's not stupid, that's fucking brilliant, that's beautiful and kind and you should get a goddamn medal. And I've been sitting here on my ass having the audacity to take the credit for it when this entire fucking amazing, selfless thing was your idea."

"I literally couldn't have done it without you, Plumes, so you can shut the fuck up about taking credit."

Dr. Walsh had long since given up on getting them to "speak respectfully" to one another— to not say things like shut the fuck up, or fuck you, over the tiniest things; to not refer to each other as jerks or dumbasses or numbskulls or shitheads. Plumeria understood why she'd wanted them to do that originally, but to be perfectly honest— they were both so immunized to profanity by now that those things had lost their sting with one another. It was just habit at this point. Plumeria had read once (back in her doing-college-online-on-the-side days) that profanity was stored in a separate area of the brain from all of the other words— it was in the cerebellum, with memories and emotions and shit, rather than the cerebrum with words and language skills. Which meant that swearing was not a linguistic choice, so much as it was an emotional reaction; and that meant, strangely enough, that the more they were swearing, the more they were allowing themselves to react emotionally. And that meant that they were actually pretty good at being honest with each other, when they weren't tamping everything down under constant stress and pain and trying to fuck the anger out of their systems and being surprised when it didn't solve things.

That was probably what Plumeria was the most ashamed of, to be honest. Their relationship had begun so many years ago as a friends-with-benefits type of thing— the Team Skull stuff was stressful, and sex was supposed to help with stress. (Or so she'd told Guzma, when she was trying to talk him into it. He hadn't objected all that much.) Over time, they'd both caught feelings and caught them hard; and they had been the only ones surprised about this development. But sex had always been stress-relief; and then it became fighting-relief; and then it became a tool that she used to keep G "in line." She took horrible, shameless advantage of the fact that he would never, ever touch her if she didn't say yes please; and sometimes when she was pissed off at him or wanted him to do something she would withhold sex on purpose.

God, and she'd called Lusamine manipulative. Holy fucking projection.

Plumeria had been almost sixteen when G had taken leadership of Team Skull— after the whole fucking Foxglove mess and whatnot. G had been just eighteen and a half, still on his island challenge; but then there was that zombie legendary shit, and the goddamn city-destroying vines causing an earthquake as it tore down office parks and the old Fox headquarters and most of the fancy, rich-people houses closest to the coast (as though what was once called Sauvageot Manor— now the Shady House because Molly thought she was fucking hilarious— was not also one of the fancy, rich-people houses; as though Plumeria hadn't been a fucking fancy rich person).

And in the aftermath of that, Foxglove had shown up. Except it wasn't really fucking Foxglove, and Plumeria had gathered the troupe of young Skulls they'd been walking over to Fox headquarters when everything went down— they were going to ask Foxglove about a junior Skull initiative to organize a weekly arts-and-crafts workshop in the Haina Bazaar— and got the kids to shelter in the rubble of an alleyway. Lucas, Aaliyah, and Tomasio had been three of their oldest, only a few years younger than Plumeria (who was still a Skull herself, but she'd been here for a hot minute so she had more authority); but there were a few others. Most of them had ended up quitting Team Skull and going back home, but— some of them stayed.

Some of them had stayed, and it had cost them. Tomasio had stayed, and then he'd joined the fucking Foxes when he turned eighteen, and part of it had been seeing all of the fucking nasty shit the Foxes did and part of it had just been— well, she wasn't a goddamn psychologist and she wasn't going to try and explain what had gone on in that kid's head, but the point was, he was messed up.

And five years after he'd joined the Foxes— only about four and a half, five months ago— Tomasio walked into the Shady House with his fucking nasty shit all ready to rumble, which was entirely Kohaku's fault. It had killed her, it had goddamn destroyed her to raise her own gun with shaking hands and shoot him. She'd killed one of her own fucking kids. She'd killed one of her first kids, a kid who had seen neither-dead-nor-alive Foxglove demand G's Ride Pager at gunpoint, who had seen Tapu Bulu's fury from point-blank range.

But killing Tomasio was the right thing to do and she would do it again— because Tomasio's eyes had gone straight to Aaliyah. Plumeria had killed Tomasio, but that didn't mean it hadn't hurt her to do so.

Plumeria had looked at the fourteen kids who had stayed— minus Kohaku, because he was holed up somewhere in the house to wait for the Foxes, the little shit. Some of them weren't kids, technically. Jianhong and Yaling were twenty-one, Jack was twenty. Aaliyah had just turned twenty-three, and she was technically their oldest kid but... well, life had not been kind to Liyah. They couldn't really think of her as the oldest, not the way she was. And she definitely couldn't be trusted to be in charge of the ones who were left— especially not the ones who were staying because they were fucked up enough to want to join the Foxes. Hell, Liyah couldn't be trusted to be in charge of herself.

So Plumeria's eyes fell on Jack, and wasn't that fucking scary.

"You keep them safe," she told him fiercely. "If you have ever been fucking grateful for anything we've done for you, you keep them safe. You all keep Dalisay safe if she has a seizure, and you make Liyah take her medicine and don't let her go outside. Nobody fucking touches any of you, all right? I'll set up a grocery delivery, and you can text me for medical stuff and I'll take care of it. And if any of those pieces of shit lays a single hand on any of you, you call me, and I will come here myself and take care of it."

"We can take care of ourselves," sneered Emmett.

Plumeria closed her eyes for a few moments, then opened them and regarded Emmett with a flat expression that had been known to strike fear into the hearts of the Foxes as well as Team Skull. Almost all of them paled; a few stumbled backwards. (Liyah wasn't really paying attention, gazing up at the stained, cracked ceiling.)

"I am aware of this," she said levelly. "And that is the only reason I am not getting one of the tranquilizer guns out of the weapons cache and drugging you all up to the gills to take you with me." She'd turned back to Jack. "Please understand this: if you value his life at all—" She jerked her head at Emmett, without looking at him. "—then you will not allow him to run his fucking mouth at the Foxes. They will kill him. They shoot first and ask questions later, but Van already thinks he's an annoying piece of shit and he will be dying for an excuse to make an example of someone, since I'm not going to be here to stop him."

"Whuh—" sputtered Emmett indignantly.

Plumeria ignored him, fixing her stare on Jack. "If you love him at all, if you want to keep him safe— make him keep his fucking mouth shut. That goes for all of you. One wrong word, one wrong word at all, and Van will probably skin you and turn you into a pair of shoes— and that's if he's feeling merciful."

Jack nodded tightly. "I get it," he said quietly. "I promise. I'll— I'll keep them safe."

A lump rose to her throat— a lump she couldn't afford, because crying would impair her vision and she needed both her eyes because G, who usually watched her back, was in fucking space with that fucking woman—

* * * * *

"Plumes?"

G's voice was oddly gentle, bringing her back to the present with a start. Plumeria swiped roughly at her eyes with the back of her hand, and only remembered after she'd done so that she'd been wearing makeup. Electric blue, shimmering silver, and glittery navy were smeared on the back of her hand. "Ah, shit."

"Tissues," said G, already setting the box in her lap. "Where'd you go, Plumes?"

Dr. Walsh wasn't saying anything, just watching them.

"I was just— thinking about the kids. The ones who are still at Po Town."

His gaze fell. "Right."

Plumeria focused on cleaning her smeared makeup off her hand. "They're all okay, still. At least, I haven't had any emergency calls, and I did tell them to call if they had an emergency and I would take care of it. I've refilled Dalisay's prescriptions twice and Liyah's prescriptions three times and mailed them over, and they get groceries air-dropped by Ride Pager once a week. Sometimes I want to go in and check in on them."

G regarded her flatly. "It would be a suicide run for you to walk into Po Town by yourself."

Plumeria glared right back. "It would have been at the beginning, but now that you're back I was planning on you coming too, asshat. Thanks for assuming."

"Oh." He looked mollified at this. "Sorry, then."

"It's fine."

For a few moments, they were both silent; but G was starting to fidget and Dr. Walsh asked gently, "Guzma, what do you want right now?"

He let out a hefty sigh, but answered the question. "I wanna make my girl feel better."

Ordinarily, Plumeria would object to the use of "my girl" in any context. She didn't belong to G; and besides that she was not a girl but a whole-ass woman. But there was a part of her, a very small part that hadn't gone to cynicism and bitterness, that understood— this claim on her was not made from greed or arrogance, but from a desire to protect. She was his girl, and therefore his responsibility. His privilege.

(And Guzma was her boy, her splintered yet unbroken boy with a beautiful, generous soul that peeked through— wild color and feeling, reflecting on cold shards of mirror without properly showing themselves. Her responsibility. Her privilege.)

Dr. Walsh eyed them, amused. "In what way?"

He sighed again, but they all knew he wasn't actually annoyed. "Okay, fine, I wanna fuckin' cuddle."

Plumeria immediately moved over on the couch, leaning into him and letting him drape a warm arm over her shoulders. She rested her head on corded muscle, which relaxed into softness when she turned her face to rest over his heart. A big, rough hand lightly tugged on one of her ponytails, then came down to curl around her upper arm. He smelled less like weed and Jack Daniels these days, and more like sweat, soap, and deodorant— the way most people smelled.

She already felt better.

They'd had to learn this about each other: that touch wasn't a privilege to be meted out as punishment or reward. Touch was a form of communication, one that was more effective when they weren't misusing it. Touch was not just I need a hit of dopamine, or you look like a whole-ass snack today, or please help me forget when I've woken up screaming in the night. Touch was I see you're having a rough time, let me help. Touch was I'm happy I saw you doing a good thing earlier.

Touch was I love you, because we both have a hard time saying that out loud when we're alone even though it's easy in the doc's office.

"I had to do something really difficult right before I left the kids in Po Town," she found herself saying. "It was the right thing to do, but it was still difficult. One of— one of the older kids, one of our first ones. Tomasio. He joined the Foxes, but he— he turned out wrong. Started wanting things he shouldn't want."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Another of our oldest kids actually joined the Foxes as well, but she got hit on the head really hard, and it really fucked her up." G sounded tired. "She's brain-damaged. Aaliyah's twenty-three, but most of the time she has the mind of a five-year-old. She hallucinates shit and gets violent and she's never going to be able to live alone for the rest of her life. Plumes couldn't bring her here because she would literally have had to get her in a straitjacket and tie her to the fuckin' Charizard, and we actually used to have a straitjacket for when we had to take her to the doctor, but during one of her more lucid moments she found scissors and cut the damn thing into pieces because she hates it. I wasn't that mad about it, because Arceus fuckin' knows we hate putting her in it. But it meant we had to leave her there, and there's thirteen— uh, twelve other kids now, so we know they're taking care of her. Only one of them is strong enough to wrestle with her if she's having a bad time, though, and he's got enough shit to deal with, tryin' to keep his fuckin' loudmouth cousin alive. And he's also the one we're trying to get to pass us information."

Plumeria closed her eyes when G spoke. She didn't have to be exhausted by this on her own. Being tired was easier when you could do it with someone else.

"I see," said Dr. Walsh. "Well, actually— I don't. What does this have to do with Tomasio?"

"Liyah literally can't consent," said G flatly, and Plumeria watched as Dr. Walsh's eyes widened. "Half the time she's seein' and hearin' shit that ain't there, and she throws full-body tantrums like a fuckin' toddler— except most toddlers don't know judo. Sometimes she remembers how to read, but usually she doesn't. Sometimes she can understand what people are saying to her, but usually she can't. She has to wear a goddamn diaper, because she can't always remember to control her own body. She can't give consent, because she doesn't fuckin' understand what that means anymore—"

His voice cracked, and he fell silent.

"Tomo always loved Liyah, and she's beautiful and a really lovely person, so— that's understandable, I suppose," said Plumeria quietly. "But she's different now. She's changed. No less beautiful or lovely, but different. And Tomo wanted her because he still loved her, but she couldn't understand that kind of love anymore. And he didn't think it mattered, because she's twenty-three and it isn't technically illegal. So he's been trying to get to her for years."

"Oh. Oh, I see. Oh, dear. Yes, that's— that's absolutely not okay." Dr. Walsh's face crumpled a little, the way it always did when she was upset about something. Plumeria had seen that look on her face a lot of times during their therapy sessions.

"One of the other kids, Kohaku. He was also fucked up, and I mean like he was a straight-up sociopath, but that happened way before he ever came to us. He sold us out to the Foxes when G went to Ultra Space, and Tomasio was the first one to show up at the house. He had his eye on Liyah, and he had a gun. I had to—" Plumeria choked on the words. "I had to kill him, because if I'd left him alive and also left Liyah, he would have—"

She couldn't bring herself to say it, because it was the worst fucking thing. Tomo had been a legitimately sweet kid, and he had always been so kind to Liyah before all that shit went down. Everything that happened to them had been the fault of the Foxes. They'd broken her and they'd turned him into a monster, and she was going to make them pay.

Plumeria sincerely hoped that she got to Van first. They might want him alive for a trial or something, but if she found him first then she was going to claim she had to kill him in self-defense. Obviously nobody would believe her, but it wasn't something they could punish her for either, on the slim chance that she might be telling the truth.

(And she would enjoy killing him. Not in the sick way that a lot of Foxes had— but as a form of catharsis. A release of all the fucking bullshit that had been flung down the pike in her direction for the last ten years.)

"That's hard," said Dr. Walsh. "That's really difficult, Plumeria. That's a difficult choice to make. But you protected Aaliyah."

Plumeria sighed. "Yeah," she admitted. "But killing Tomo felt especially shitty because I'd known him for ten years. It's really fucking difficult when someone you care about turns into— when someone you care about either wants to, or actually does do awful shit that makes you sick to think about. We cared about him. We took him in when he was thirteen, because his parents were killed when all the Po Town stuff happened. We fed him and clothed him and we taught him to cook and clean for himself. We made sure he got his high school diploma. We—"

"We loved him," said G. "We loved the guy, and he became a monster."

Plumeria closed her eyes. "Yes," she said softly. "That's exactly it."

"That isn't your fault," Dr. Walsh told them gently. "He's an adult, and he made his choices. You cannot, and should not, blame yourselves for that."

"It's not blame so much," she tried to explain, because it wasn't. Well, it was, but only a little bit. "It's just— he was only twenty-three, too. He had a whole life ahead of him, but he chose this. That's not our fault, but it's— it's sad, okay? It's just fucking sad."

"Tomo deserved better." G's voice was barely more than a whisper. "Tomo deserved better, and Kohaku deserved better, and Liyah still deserves better. They all deserve better. We didn't make these things happen, but sometimes you just have to sit there and watch the world burn and there's nothin' you can do to stop it. And that is just— that is deadass the shittiest feeling in the world."

* * * * *

From the very beginning, Plumeria had insisted on having a twenty-four-hours-a-day, seven-days-a-week open-door policy with Team Skull. At first G had grumbled about it, especially in the time right after they'd begun hooking up. ("Plumes, back then I just wanted to bang you like a screen door in a hurricane, and that wasn't happening if one of those numbskulls could walk in whenever.") But over time, he'd come to appreciate it even more than she did. It was probably just because he had a harder time sleeping and so was less bothered about being woken up at inopportune moments, but as the immediate honeymoon phase of their relationship had faded into a more relaxed, everyday affection, the open-door policy had gone from inconvenient to vital.

Six years ago, arriving home from a job for Indira. She'd picked up some extra baggage on the way and G's face had brightened when she walked in, but he blinked in surprise at a tall, broad-shouldered Jack and his ratty little cousin Emmett, practically on Plumeria's heels.

Five and a half years ago, bringing groceries in from the Ride Pager Charizard. A tall, thin girl with jet-black, silky hair and a bunch of piercings was already inside the house, sitting on one of the sofas. "I'd have waited outside, but there were a couple of creeps following me when I was coming through the town. The name's Raquel."

Five years ago, just past dawn. A loud bang as the front doors of the Shady House bounced open; G had been down there with a gun and Plumeria had a knife in each hand but there stood a short, round girl with ashy-brown hair that curled and curled and curled, and she had her own knife in one hand and she announced, "My name is Molly and I'm joining Team Skull," and that was that.

Two and a half years ago, during lunch. G came back from running an errand and he had with him a silent, slender boy with hair so blond it was nearly white; he'd sort of shooed him over toward Plumeria and stomped off, clearly in a pissy mood. About half of the kids in the ballroom— they only had about thirty-five at that point— were staring, and for most of them it wasn't just because the kid's high-quality clothes had seen some serious Pokémon shredding action. Gladion wasn't really her type, but he looked like a goddamn model even with his shitty haircut, and most of their Skulls were hormonal, horny idiots who needed to wipe the drool off their chins.

Two years ago, in the red-grey shadows of a Po Town twilight. G was smoking out in the backyard and Plumeria was taking a call from Van. There was a cleared throat behind them and Plumeria turned to see Molly, with murder in her eyes, supporting the skinniest, frailest-looking boy she'd ever seen. He was bruised all over and had blood on his shirt, clutching at a pair of broken glasses. Oddly, it was G who sat Rogelio down in one of the bathrooms and carefully cleaned up the blood and picked out the pieces of broken glass that had lodged in his hands. Plumeria had never seen him so gentle.

One humid night, just about a year ago, a frantic pounding at her bedroom door. She had gone to open it and there stood a nervous Molly and a weeping Rogelio, with three too-thin, depressed-looking kids— all boys, as it turned out.

The open-door policy had saved lives, and so they were grateful for it even if it meant that they got to a point where they no longer made an attempt to be quiet if they were having sex. Quiet meant that they weren't busy, and therefore available for interruption; but if they were loud enough, the Skulls generally had the sense to wait until at least five minutes after the cessation of audible activity— unless there was an actual emergency. (That had happened before. More than once, even. Those emergencies had not been dealt with in a pretty way, because G got pissy when he had to wait for anything, let alone an orgasm.)

So when there was a timid rapping at the door of their room in the Aether mansion, in the dead of night— she woke up instantly. G was already awake and crossing to the door.

It was Rogelio, by himself— which was a relatively unusual sight, because generally he and Molly were attached at the hip. He was clutching his phone, and looked kind of ruffled— sweaty, messy hair, the strap of the Skull tank threatening to slip off his shoulder. Plumeria decided he had probably been doing something with Jack over the phone that she didn't want to know about.

"What's up?" G greeted him.

"U-um— Jack's agreed to help. To pass information."

That would explain why he'd come here, and now she was awake. G beckoned Rogelio into the room and closed the door after him, and Plumeria sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"Pop a squat," she said, yawning. "You would have waited until morning to tell us if there weren't something you were worried about."

Rogelio nodded, sitting down at the foot of the bed while G settled back next to her, shoulders bumping companionably. "He said, um— that his phone was broken in the whole thing with, um, Moon, at the Lake of the Sunne. And because he's sort of— in charge by default, Van got him a new one. And he didn't think about that in terms of, um, surveillance, because he figured that Van wouldn't really care about, like... um. S-sexting."

The poor kid had gone completely red. It was kind of funny— Rogelio could and did make dirty jokes all the time, as long as Molly was with him and he wasn't the target of the joke. But talking about it in serious conversation reduced him to a blushing, stuttering mess.

"But Van might be monitoring his phone anyway, and we don't know h-how much he might already know?" Rogelio rubbed at the back of his neck. "It was lucky I asked him over a call in the middle of the night, because I don't think Van cares enough about the kids in Po Town to like, actively trace Jack's calls, especially when he's probably asleep. If I'd asked over a text, he might know."

"Okay, yeah, that's a problem. Good thing you came to us." G frowned.

"We'll send him a burner phone," said Plumeria, because it seemed like a pretty simple solution. "Wicke's buying, as she's funding this whole damn thing for some reason."

Rogelio shook his head quickly. "Jack said it's not just his phone, even though he's the only one on Van's phone plan, or whatever. He said that Yaling and Dal were texting to set up someone to be on Liyah duty during a— um, a drugs run." Plumeria felt her heart twinge. "They ended up having Yaling stay, because if Dal had a seizure with only Liyah at home then that could be really bad. But Van knew about that before any of them even got to the rendezvous point, and it wasn't just like, a good guess. He repeated an exact quote from one of their texts, and he was kind of nasty to Dal about it because she hadn't exactly been... um, polite, about talking about the Foxes. It freaked her out, so she went to Jack. Van knows that Dal isn't eighteen, and so do a few of the other Foxes, but he was willing to keep that information quiet from the nasty ones who would take advantage of your absence, as long as she was willing to hack things for him. Jack says Dal thinks he's found some way to monitor all communications for electronic devices within a certain range."

"Shit," muttered G. "Can she stop it?"

"I can ask, but— if we stopped it before Gladion came back, that would be suspicious, wouldn't it? Jack could get in trouble."

"Yeah, that's true." G frowned down at the rumpled bedspread. Plumeria patted his knee before focusing on Rogelio.

"You've met up for coffee or something a couple of times, haven't you?"

Rogelio went red again. "Y-yeah. Twice. I-I think, um. It went well? That was why I thought it would be okay to ask. About spying for us. He was already complaining about Van plenty over text, but not in like— not in like, a serious way. Just saying that Emmett was having a rough time with some of them because he's like—" Rogelio's mouth thinned. "I shouldn't find this satisfying, and in some ways I don't, but you remember how Emmett has always kind of led the charge on how like, some of the Skulls treated Gladion like shit? Well, that's kind of how the Foxes treat Emmett. And I know I really shouldn't find that satisfying, but I do."

Plumeria nodded. "Nobody's perfect, and I think you've earned yourself a bit of schadenfreude."

G blinked at her. "A bit of whatnow?"

"Schadenfreude. It's from another language, it means taking pleasure in someone else's suffering." She considered for a few moments. "And I would guess Van hasn't said anything to Jack or Emmett about that— just either told the Foxes to be meaner, or to leave him alone for a few days, depending on his mood?"

"Yeah, I guess they were really bad for a few days right after Jack sent me that. He complained about Kohaku a few times, before... you know. And right after that he was like, super messed up about it, because seeing someone get killed right in front of you is— it's fucking..." He trailed off.

"Yeah," said G quietly. "Yeah, we know."

"But he complained before he got the new phone, too. It had the same number, so I didn't know the difference. But he said the phone was already set up and had all his contacts and everything. Van just handed it to him and said, here, because you need one for our work. Jack didn't even have to like, ask. And he didn't make the connection right away because... um, he's not stupid but he's also not like, super intuitive or anything, but— they wouldn't have been able to set it up exactly like his old phone, unless they were monitoring it or had it paired, or something?"

Plumeria nodded approvingly. "Good catch," she said, reaching out to pat Rogelio on the same shoulder where she'd inked a strand of flowers for him. He'd told her they were called bells of Armor. "You tell him we said so, too. So he was definitely monitoring Jack's communication even before then, which means that Dal's probably right and he has a way to see everything like that."

"That's gonna be a problem." G brought one hand up to rub at his messy hair. The dark roots were getting long; they were going to have to bleach them soon.

"Yeah. We're going to have to do everything by paper, which is time-consuming and annoying as hell." Plumeria sighed, puffing out her lower lip. A strand of hair in her face floated upward with the gust of breath and clung to its friends rather than falling down again. "I think Wicke will probably lend us a laptop and a printer, so you can type things up that we want him to look for, and pass it along when you're going out. But he's going to have to handwrite everything if he can't trust electronic devices. Or he'll have to commit it to memory."

Rogelio shifted uncomfortably, dark eyes darting to G. "Maybe, but Jack usually texts me with voice to text when he's by himself. He's dyslexic— like you, right?"

"Yeah," said G, unoffended. Rogelio relaxed. "What about a voice recording?"

"That's electronic," pointed out Plumeria.

"Not all of 'em. Tape decks only use double-A's for power, there's no information storage. Can't hack a server or trace an IP thingamashit if it don't exist in the first place. Only way to hack a cassette tape is to steal it."

"Which could happen."

"That's true with any communication, though."

Plumeria acknowledged the point with a nod. "Okay, we'll talk to Wicke about getting a little tape recorder. Jack usually wears baggy clothes... unless he's exercising, of course." She paused, smirking when Rogelio went Cherubi-red. "So concealing it generally won't be a problem. I don't think he'd get away with it for going to headquarters specifically to see Van about something, because if you're seeing Van they pat you down and if you're wearing loose shit you get groped."

G stared at her indignantly. "The fuck you mean?"

"They don't touch you if it's clear you can't hide anything in your clothes," said Plumeria, blinking at him. "Not that I haven't gotten away with it anyway, of course. There's plenty of small shit you can saran-wrap for sanitation and stick in your underwear or something. But I couldn't carry, say, a tranq gun in yoga pants and a crop top without it being pretty damn obvious what I was up to, so they didn't have any reason to feel me up."

"Why the fuck did you never say anything about that? I just went in my usual clothes and told fuckin' Barbara off every time for pinchin' my ass—"

Plumeria winced. "Well, shit, it seemed like common sense to me. I should have mentioned it. Sorry."

G sighed. "Yeah, yeah, it's fine. Nothing I can do about it now, anyway." He turned back to Rogelio, who looked mortified. "Anyway, tell him to keep the tape recorder at home and just be observant and ask questions when he's out and about, then record what he finds later. And maybe he can go on a couple of walks around town. If any of the kids need to see the doctor, he could go with them because they'd better be using the goddamn buddy system, and he could record stuff about patrols and outposts. We still have a good idea of how everything's laid out, but Van's been known to switch stuff up and he's not stupid. He knows we're comin' for him eventually."

"We missed Liyah's last quarterly neurology appointment in February because we're here at Aether," remembered Plumeria. "I had to call and pay the cancellation fee, which was bullshit. But I did schedule one for the end of May, because I was thinking maybe I would get a straitjacket from Wicke, borrow Nanu's boat and go in real quiet at night to get her to the appointment. That's in a couple of weeks. So maybe he can walk her over there. She won't notice if he's recording anything." She paused. "Though, honestly— Liyah's a blessing, but she's also pretty stressful to deal with even when you aren't living in constant mortal peril. So maybe if Jack pretends like he's getting Van's permission, we could negotiate some kind of like, hostage exchange, so we can get her here where she's safe."

"Actually, that could work," said G thoughtfully. "He might just tell Jack to kill her and be done with it, in which case we'd kidnap her like you said— but he also knows that the Foxes under Indira owed us for not going to the feds about the whole clusterfuck that got Liyah hurt to begin with, and we never cashed in that favor. The guy's got no fuckin' morals, but he respects favors owed even though Indira's been dead for like, three years."

"May she rest in fucking pieces, like the piece of shit she was," added Plumeria, almost reflexively. G held out his hand for a high-five and she slapped it without looking. Rogelio made a noise that clearly indicated a desire to not laugh.

"If he lets us claim that favor even though she's dead," continued G, "then we'll technically owe him a favor, and he'd absolutely take that bait. That ain't a great place for us to be in, but the thing is— he's not gonna use any of the kids to force us to let him claim the favor, because that breaks the original Fox and Skull agreement with the feds. And there's not much else he can do to get leverage on us when we're here at Aether and he's stuck in Po Town. He doesn't have his— well, I guess it was a Mewtwo, but I didn't know that so I always just thought of it as his scary lab experiment Pokémon. Anyway, he doesn't have it anymore, thank god because that fucker was creepy, and the whole assault on Aether was a complete fuckin' bust for him. So he can say we owe him, but he can't do a damn thing to oblige us to pay up." He was grinning by the time he finished the analysis. "Hell yeah. We're gonna get Liyah back."

"That can be the first thing we ask Jack to do," agreed Plumeria. "Liyah being in Po Town is definitely a liability, especially because this whole fucking thing is probably going to end in a shootout. If we can get her out first, so she can't be used as leverage during an actual firefight, then we should do that."

Rogelio was watching and listening to them both, wide-eyed; but at this, he nodded. "So, we'll ask Ms. Wicke about a laptop and printer tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Though maybe we should just ask Molly to take care of that, because we're trying to get off Wicke's ass about everything."

G snorted. "Yeah, Gladion's gonna homicide someone if we stress her out too much."

"Okay, that's not a problem. If we can't get one through Molly, then we can go through Ms. Wicke." Rogelio nodded decisively. "Um— okay. So, yes. We've got Jack. I guess I'll go back to bed now." He half rose from the bed.

"Hey, Rog," said G.

"Yes?"

"Come here a sec."

He blinked at them, but trustingly shuffled closer on the bed.

"I wanna apologize," said G quietly.

Plumeria stared at him, surprised. Rogelio blinked again.

"W-what for?"

"It was absolute and complete bullshit that we asked you to do this." The dark eyes widened, but Guzma firmly shook his head. "No, really. This whole thing is super fucked up, and you're allowed to feel like it's fucked up, and you're allowed to tell us that. We owe you big for being a good sport and doing it anyway, but you shouldn't have felt like you had to. We knew you liked Jack, and we were sorta countin' on that when we asked you to do it. So in a way, we—" He swallowed. "We used you. We used you the same way we used him. And I know from experience that it feels really, really shitty to be used."

Rogelio's eyes were starting to water, and his mouth trembled.

"You should have had the chance to get to know Jack outside of all this," continued G. "You deserved that. You've already had a shitty time of it, and you should've— you should've gotten the chance to fall in love without us pushin' you into it because it would benefit us. Everyone should get that chance. We fucked that up for you. And I am so, so goddamn sorry I ever thought it would be a good idea in the first place."

Rogelio crumpled like wet paper, dropping the phone on the bed and burying his face in his hands. Guzma reached out and put a tentative hand on his shoulder, guiding him closer for a proper hug.

"I wanted it, I wanted it so bad," he sobbed, and at this Plumeria joined the hug because goddamn, that was heartbreaking. "And— and Jack was kind of pissed off when I told him, at first. I was so scared, I thought he was gonna break things off. But I don't know if I'd ever have been brave enough to do it without all of you asking me to, and I definitely wouldn't have tried anything if he was still fucking Raquel because I wouldn't have wanted to get a shiv in my ribs in the middle of the night. And I told him that, I told him I'm a coward and that even if he didn't want to pass information I still wanted to talk to him, because I lo—" He inhaled raggedly. "Just because."

"You're not a coward," said Plumeria firmly. "Don't you dare think that for one second, Rogelio Silveira. You knew this was dangerous and you knew that it could be a huge risk to get your feelings involved in this, but you chose that anyway. You chose to try and find happiness, and that's one of the bravest fucking choices that you can make, with a past like yours." She felt G tense slightly when she said that, but it was one of those things that Rogelio wouldn't have noticed. "We're proud of you, Rog."

He cried for a few minutes without words, shuddering in their arms. Plumeria met G's pale-grey eyes over the bowed teal head and tried to tell him with her eyes: thank you for telling him, thank you for loving him, thank you for being the father he deserves and nothing like his shitty uncle.

And his eyes spoke back to hers: you're welcome, I love you.

* * * * *

Chapter Text

Lillie's stomach clenched with nerves. She stared at her lap, at her hands and the notecards she'd made to keep herself from rambling. She took a shuddering breath, and let it out. In, and then out; just the way Dr. Winberry had taught her.

"Hey." Hau's hand covered both of her own, and she looked up at him. There was also something nervous in his eyes, but the golden glitter that was not Hau was oddly reassuring. "It's going to be okay."

"She's going to be so mad," said Lillie, looking down. "Like— really, really mad. Wh-what if she doesn't want to be my friend anymore?"

"She's not going to be mad," said Hau firmly. At Lillie's disbelieving stare he amended his words. "Okay, she's going to be mad, but she'll probably listen. And if she doesn't, then Ko— er, Tapu Koko has agreed to explain things. She doesn't argue with the Tapus or Nebby or whoever in the same way she argues with people."

That was true, but it was not particularly comforting. It was the arguing with people part that Lillie was concerned about.

Amelia, having graduated from a full head-cast to just a neck brace and a nose splint, had finally been discharged from the hospital that morning. It had been about a month since the Rainbow Rocket incident, and all but three of her fingers were out of their splints as well. She still had one arm in a sling. Her dislocated shoulder had been popped back in almost immediately, but apparently she had broken that shoulder some time in high school and the X-rays picked up a hairline fracture in the same place. It wasn't bad enough to require a cast, but she was meant to keep that arm as still as possible.

Ordinarily, Amelia would have been filling the time they were waiting with work, tapping busily on her tablet. But Molly had commandeered the tablet, occasionally asking her questions in a quiet voice and nodding at the answers. Lillie watched Amelia— watched the new shape of her glasses, rimmed in golden wire, and watched her shorn head. The plastic surgeon had been forced to shave part of her head for a space to work during the original surgery, and Amelia had opted to have it all shaved off for her duration in the full head-cast.

She looked very different now, and there were still bruises around her eyes and nose; but they were smaller than before. The most obvious difference, to Lillie anyway, was the way her gaze did not focus on the wall she was staring at. It looked like Amelia just— wasn't quite there.

Rogelio sat on Molly's other side, texting rapidly on his own phone with a slight, dreamy smile on his face. On Amelia's other side was Almas, and he alternated between staring at his phone and glancing over at Amelia, obviously gauging her to see if she needed anything. Jeremiah and Ki-moon were setting up the food, which was kindly being provided by the mansion kitchen staff. In a chair at the end of the table slouched Nanu, arms crossed; Hapu sat next to him, listening to a fairly quiet argument that Molayne and Sophocles were having in the corner. Hala sat with Kai and Leilani Akiona; and at the other end of the table, on either side of the main empty chair, were Kapua and Yoshiro Hawkins, who both just looked— tired. Not ill-tired, the way Amelia looked; just... tired. Kapua was the person from whom Moon had inherited her lively hazel-gold eyes, but now they had dark circles beneath them. Yoshiro ran one hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead; Lillie could see a bit of grey among the black and this added solidity to the decision she had made.

There was a blip from Amelia's tablet, and Molly paused before looking up. "Moon's Charizard just landed. She's on her way over."

"Great," said Hau. All conversation dropped to a murmur, and Kapua leaned forward to open a window on a laptop computer. After a few moments, two faces appeared on the screen. In the foreground was the familiar Champion Satoshi Red of Kanto; and seated behind him in a swivel chair sat his long-time partner, Gym Leader Blue Oak.

They had considered inviting Gladion, but Lillie had made the decision that Gladion should be allowed to focus on himself right now. He was going to want to focus on Moon as well when he came back, but for now he needed the peace that only distance could afford.

"Hi, Mrs. Hawkins," said Red, his voice clear through the speakers. "Everything working okay?"

"Yes, we can see and hear you." said Kapua. Yoshiro came around the table to lift his hand in a wave before sitting down again. "How about us? Any issues?"

"My only issue is that our boss is pissy we're both taking off work for this, but he can fucking deal with it," called Blue.

"We'll be muted when we're not directly addressing Moon," said Red, his mouth a thin line. "Otherwise, Blue will be trying to backseat-drive the meeting."

"Hey, I will not!"

"You will too," said Kapua, her crinkly smile appearing for a few moments. "And that's one of the things we love about you, but maybe now isn't the best time for it. We have a script, and we have to stick to it."

"Okay, that's an absolutely fair point."

Kapua picked up the laptop and placed it on a medium-height filing cabinet that had been dragged over to the conference room for the occasion, between Kapua's chair and Hau's. Red and Blue waved at Hau when they saw him, and then both of their gazes darted to Lillie.

"You must be Lillie, you look just like your brother," said Blue, a grin growing on his face. "Thanks for that message in the video log Moon sent us last fall, by the way. We can't promise a visit right away, but we're going to work on it."

Lillie felt herself flush. "Oh— you're welcome. Thank you for taking care of my brother during his journey."

"It's a pleasure," said Red. His usual curt tone had softened, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward into a very small smile. "He's a great guy, and he's doing really well here."

Lillie smiled back.

"Moon's ETA is like, three minutes," called Molly. "Cassie's in the room above the mansion foyer and she just got a visual on Moon leaving the main Aether complex. She's taking the direct path."

Jeremiah and Ki-moon finished setting up the food. "Er— do you want us in here?" asked Jeremiah, a little awkwardly. "We're not super close with Moon, not like Molly and Rog are..." His gaze flicked to Almas, and then back to Lillie; but then he winked at her.

"Yes, I'd like you both to stay," replied Lillie. "You're close to Gladion, and Moon likes you."

Of course that wasn't the real reason, but they weren't quite ready to reveal why they were actually staying. Jeremiah was actually a pretty good actor; Lillie was honestly kind of impressed.

"Oh, okay. Where should we sit?"

Sophocles raised one hand, waving and pointing to two chairs next to him. Jeremiah and Ki-moon both brightened and hurried over to sit down, squabbling briefly about who would sit directly next to Sophocles. There were only two empty chairs— one for Moon. Lillie glanced nervously at that empty chair, but there was a soft knock at the door and a slender woman with a pale-pink scarf wrapped around her head and neck came in.

"Hello," she said, spotting the empty seat and making her way over.

"Samiyah?" said Amelia, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"We'll explain in a minute," said Almas. His gaze was fixed on Samiyah, which Lillie supposed was not terribly surprising. "But Moon's almost here, and we have to wait for her."

Amelia wasn't stupid. Lillie watched her blink for a few moments, and then suddenly clarity returned to the green eyes.

"This isn't for Moon," she said, turning to stare at Lillie. "This is for me, isn't it?"

"It's for both of you," Molly informed her, "which was how we got both of you to actually show up. You thought we were holding an intervention for Moon, and she thinks we're holding one for you."

For a few moments Lillie held her breath; but then Amelia huffed soft laughter. "All right," she murmured, a small smile curling onto her face. "That was very well played, indeed. Whose idea was that?"

Almas raised his hand bashfully. Samiyah's gaze flicked to him. "You must be Almas?"

"Mhm."

"ETA thirty seconds," announced Molly. "She just walked in the front door. Hey, Ms. Wicke, can I keep this tablet?"

"I hesitate to give you that much power."

"I promise I'll use it for good!"

"No, you won't," said Rogelio placidly, putting his phone in his pocket. A few people laughed.

"Okay, no I won't, but I would try to keep a pretty even balance between good and evil."

"No, you wouldn't," said Jeremiah, Ki-moon, and Almas in unison, to even more laughter.

"Hey!"

There was another knock at the door, and this time Moon came directly in.

"Hey, guys," she said cheerfully. "Am I the last one—" Her gaze fell on Amelia and she stopped in place, brows furrowing into a frown.

"Yes," said Molly briskly, ignoring Moon's confusion. "You're the last one. Have a seat."

Moon frowned around the room, and her eyes settled on her parents, then Hau's parents, and finally the laptop with visible confusion— and then her eyes widened, as she reached the same conclusion to which Amelia had come.

"Oh my god, this isn't for Amelia!" Her face crumpled in frustration. "Goddamn it, I should have known! I should have fucking known!"

She half-turned, ready to leave the room, but Molly said sharply, "It's for both of you, Moon. Sit the fuck down."

"Or what?" snarled Moon, whirling back to face them. Lillie inhaled sharply, and heard Almas do the same on her left. She had rarely seen Moon this angry. "You'll tell my parents on me? Too late, it looks like you already fucking did!"

"Do you want to have an intervention for Amelia, or not?" Rogelio's voice was steady. "It's for both of you, Moon. It has to be for both of you, because we couldn't make you do it separately. We're not trying to hurt you."

"This is so damn invasive! I can't believe this shit!" Moon's eyes found Lillie. "I thought you would know better! You know what it's like to have people trying to control you!"

Lillie tried to speak, tried to say something— but the script had already failed, and she didn't know where to start.

Hau stood up, stepping between Lillie and Moon— breaking their lines of sight. "All right," he said, and his voice was level and cool— which meant he was furious. "I didn't want to have to pull out the big guns at the beginning, but it looks like you're not going to let us explain it to you. Tapu Koko, lend me a hand?"

Lillie was only faintly attuned to the power of legendary Pokémon, and she suspected this was more due to long-time exposure to Nebby and the lingering touch of Tapu Lele than it was to anything else; but she felt space being pulled and warped nearby, and then Tapu Koko appeared with a quiet pop in the ballroom. Several people gasped— the entire Team Skull contingent and Samiyah, all of whom presumably were not in the know about Hau's future-kahuna status.

"What the fuck, Hau?"

Moon Hawkins, said Tapu Koko, and she fell silent at once. We owe you an apology.

For a very long moment, nobody spoke. Lillie's heart pounded in her chest and in her ears.

"What— what for?"

And now they had her. Kapua and Yoshiro had been very shrewd indeed, when Hau and Lillie had first gone to them. Appealing to Moon's curiosity really was the best way to persuade her to do anything. Lillie breathed out relief, notecards clenched in her hands under the table. A slim hand reached out, quickly patted hers, and returned to its owner; Almas, trying to smile reassuringly even though Lillie knew that he had been just as unnerved by Moon's sudden anger as she had been.

My power binds Hala Akiona and myself to my golden island. My sister's power binds Olivia Wala'e to her rose island. My brother's power binds Ishmael Nanu to his red island. My other sister's power binds Hapu Kahonua to her violet island. These are humans who are chosen by beasts, to wield power as they see fit.

"Um... okay? I already knew that."

When you were chosen by Sol, Luna, Grandmother Starlight, and the Shadow-walker, they gave you the same power to be wielded anywhere in Alola it is needed. I have learned recently that you do not understand the full meaning of this, and that the knowledge and understanding would comfort you.

"Oh, now you want to answer my fucking questions?" Moon's tone was irritated. "Of course, it takes me acting like a complete bitch to get what I want. It's like you all want me to turn into fucking Lusamine."

Lillie flinched. Almas's hand rested briefly on her shoulder.

Moon Hawkins, remember to whom you speak.

Tapu Koko's voice remained mild, but any hint of levity in it had vanished.

Moon sighed. "Sorry," she muttered. "But they shouldn't pull you in for something this— this trivial, should they?"

Perhaps they should not, said Tapu Koko, amusement returning, but your distress has been in turn distressing those who love you, and many of those who love you have responsibilities to law and nature that are affected by this distress.

There was a long pause.

"You're attending my intervention because I'm fucking up your ability to do your job?" said Moon skeptically.

More or less. Now, listen and learn.

Hau sat down, finally, and Lillie watched as Tapu Koko drifted over to Moon and leaned forward, placing one of the black claws on her forehead.

Moon's eyes closed automatically, and after a few moments her mouth fell open. After a few more, tears began trickling from both closed eyes.

It was easy to see, like this, how Moon's health had been affected over the last month. She had lost weight; her legs and face were both thinner. There were near-constant dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes, and she was paler than usual. Lillie saw Moon's mouth widen to the point that the skin on her lips cracked, and a tiny blot of scarlet welled up on her lower lip. It was immediately pulled in as her mouth closed, Moon worrying at the spot behind a tight, flat expression.

And wasn't that a metaphor for why they were here right now? Moon always pulled it in. She always kept that emotion in. She never properly let it out, and it was hurting her.

Hau stood again, walking silently around Tapu Koko and an unaware Moon, bending his knees and holding out his hands. A few seconds later, Tapu Koko took his claw away from Moon's forehead, and her knees buckled immediately; but Hau was there to catch her, one of the only people in the room who could have done so easily. The Tapu vanished without a word as Hau brought Moon over to the chair they'd left for her.

"All right, sit down— there you go," he said gently. "Someone get her a glass of water?"

Sophocles rose first, silently going to the food table and retrieving a cup of water for Moon before returning to his seat.

There was a long silence after she sipped the water, and then she took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry," she croaked. "I didn't— I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to hurt you all. Shit. Oh my god— I actually said some really hurtful shit just now, didn't I? Oh my god." Her eyes sought and found Lillie, reflecting horrified guilt.

"We're getting there," said Hau. There was no trace of any previous anger remaining. "But interventions have a script, and you sort of broke it by having a tantrum. We thought you would be mad, but I think we underestimated how mad you would get."

"Stress," called Jeremiah sagely, from further down the table. "That shit fucks you up, dude." Ki-moon smacked him lightly upside the head. "Hey, what was that for?"

"Would you please," said Ki-moon wearily, "shut the hell up."

Moon let out a quiet snort of laughter, cracking the barest hint of a smile; and this broke the tension over the room and they all let out quiet chuckles of relief. That was one of the reasons that Lillie had wanted Jeremiah and Ki-moon present; they made a perfect duo of comic and straight man (to which Ki-moon had quipped, "Those are just terms, it's not like there's anything actually straight about me"). She could have asked Red and Blue to do that as well, but Kapua had advised against it because Red actually did get irritated with Blue's clowning sometimes, versus Jeremiah and Ki-moon who were never actually that annoyed with one another— they just played it up for laughs.

"So," said Hau, once it had subsided. "You're willing to listen?" He turned to look at Amelia. "Both of you?"

Amelia smiled, but it was humorless. "I suppose I am."

"Yeah, go for it," said Moon, waving one hand towards Hau.

"Great. Lillie, the floor is yours."

Both Moon's and Amelia's eyebrows rose, and Lillie stood up. She fumbled the notecards and dropped three.

"Damn it," she mumbled, too quietly for anyone but Hau on her right and Almas on her left to hear. Almas passed her one card and Hau handed her the other two, and she put them back where they were meant to go and took a deep breath.

"Moon," she began, "and Amelia. I think both of you know that this— that this has been a long time in coming."

They both nodded, resigned. Lillie looked back down at her notes.

"Amelia, you've been watching Gladion and I hurting for years, and you could only do so much to help. I know you have regrets about the past, but honestly— with an exception for the last month, I honestly wouldn't change anything. Not even, um. Not even my mother. B-because, if she hadn't been the way that she had, I don't know if I would ever have run away from Aether Paradise, and I don't know if I would ever have met Moon and Hau. And I think Gladion feels the same, especially because of Null.

"A-and I want you to know, Amelia, that I know that my mother was horrible to you, too. I know that you had to work really hard to be careful around her, to not show her when you were angry or upset, because then she might fire you and you really couldn't help us. And I know that— that you've been dealing with that for years. And that you got Nikola not because you thought sheep were cute, which is what you told Gladion and I back when we were fourteen and twelve respectively, but because she's trained to do that electrical stimulation therapy thing, and you have to do that or your muscles seize up with all the stress my mother has put you through."

Amelia had clearly not known that Lillie knew this; and most of the other people in the room hadn't known it either, judging by the expressions on their faces. The only person who was not surprised was Samiyah— and that had been the person from whom Lillie had learned this.

"So— I'm asking you, Amelia, to please— to please consider seeing a therapist. And no, the physical therapist you're going to have to see when you get all the splints off your fingers doesn't count. I'm saying this without a single bit of room for technicalities, because I know you too well to know you won't try it. I mean go to a psychiatrist first, who can maybe give you a prescription if you need it, and who can refer you to a therapist that's qualified to work with you on your mental health. Please make an appointment for yourself, and please keep that appointment and don't reschedule it every time something new pops up for you to deal with. Because you are more important to me than the— than the minutiae of this company. And because there are a lot of people here who want to help you, and who are willing to help you, and you can spare an hour or two a week to let them do that. You've been so kind to me, when I needed it the most. Please be kind to yourself, too."

There was a long silence, and then Amelia nodded once. Her face was unreadable, but there were tears glittering at the corners of her eyes.

Lillie turned to look at Moon.

"Oh, god," murmured Moon, but she didn't sound offended anymore and Lillie took it as a sign to continue.

"Moon, you are my best friend."

Moon's eyes went wide. Lillie heard muffled gasps from Kapua and Yoshiro, and there was a muffled shout of "FUCKING FINALLY" from the laptop before the noise was abruptly cut off.

"Hau is my boyfriend, and I care about him and I love him a lot. And Gladion is my brother, and I care about him and I love him too. But you are my best friend in the entire world. And it hurts so much to watch you struggling to cope with the Rainbow Rocket stuff on your own. It feels like— it feels like the th-three months b-b-before Gladion left."

And there were the waterworks. Lillie was honestly surprised she had managed to get everything out to Amelia without crying.

"Back then, I didn't, um, know a-about Null, and what F-Faba was doing to her. I just saw that he was quiet, like usual, and then— and then one night at d-dinner, he asked our mother about it and she screamed at him for hours. A-and for the next three months, I was just watching the light g-go out of his eyes. I was watching him dying. He believed what our mother was t-t-telling him, and I don't have to tell you what she was saying b-because you know, you already know. He was going to— I think if Amelia hadn't helped him, he m-m-might have actually died. A-and you know how it would have happened, too. He's t-t-told you about it."

More people than just Lillie were crying, but she wasn't finished and she had to force the words out of her lungs because they seized up. She didn't want to say this, afraid to make it even a remote possibility; but she had to, because if she didn't. If she didn't.

"Moon, I don't want you to— to die. I don't want you to— to ever feel like y-you h-h-have to end it, j-just to make the p-pain stop."

"Fuck," whispered Moon, choking on a sob.

"P-please don't just let it all build up and build up and build up, until you can't keep it inside. Please." She breathed. It was done, it was said. "Please do what I did, and what Gladion did, and what I'm asking Amelia to do. Please make an appointment with a psychiatrist, and accept a prescription if they think you need one, and let them refer you to a therapist and please, please go to therapy. Because you are so strong, and so brave, and if I lose you I don't know what will happen to me."

And that was it; that was all she could say. She stuffed the notes into her pocket and sat down.

Dr. Winberry had encouraged her to state her thoughts out loud; and she knew Dr. MacCleary had done the same thing for Gladion. This was good for positive thoughts because it meant that goals and wishes could become grounded in reality; and it was also good for negative thoughts because if left in silent isolation they could fester, they could grow morbid and dominate her every waking moment.

But releasing negative thoughts from the captivity of her mind also made them real, in a sense. And saying one of her very worst fears out loud, in the presence of the person to whom she was trying to prevent it from happening, had the potential to plant the idea in her head.

Hau had assured her that it was unlikely that Moon would ever actually want to commit suicide, and logically Lillie knew that was probably true. But stress and grief and worries, trauma and depression and anxiety— these things could make you want things you didn't want to want.

These things could break you— not because you allowed it to happen, but in spite of what you wanted. These things were insidious and dark and so very, very real, and they got the better of people all the time. Strong people, good people, intelligent people. People who committed suicide weren't weak or bad or stupid. They were just— tired.

Moon was tired, too.

And sometimes— the only thing you could do was to hope that someone you loved would continue to press on, despite how tired they were. You couldn't make anybody else want to keep going. All you could really do was hope they would try.

* * * * *

Moon and Amelia listened to what everyone had to say. Kapua and Yoshiro just wanted their little girl to be okay; Kai and Leilani were worried about their cousin; Hala, about his great-niece. Hapu's statement was simple and profound: "It is honorable to seek assistance when you need it. You cannot drink water from a well that has run dry."

Nanu had been a bit of a conundrum, refusing to let either Lillie or Amelia see what he was going to say to Moon. It turned out that Lillie had been right to be wary.

"If you're going to hassle me out of my own shitty home and make me sign up for fucking therapy, but you won't do it yourself, then you're the biggest fucking hypocrite I know. And you're not a fucking hypocrite, Hawkins."

Lillie opened her mouth, appalled; but Moon let out a huff of air that was similar to the way Gladion had learned to laugh without smiling. "All right, Ishmael, I'll give you that."

Champion Red had said simply, "I'm not talking you into anything, but I just want you to think about how Blue was when he started therapy versus how he is now." And that was a sign he knew Moon well, the way her parents did; he appealed to her sense of logic over everything else.

Blue had talked for nearly five minutes straight, with only perfunctory pauses to breathe. For him, therapy was great not only because it had helped him with a lot of what he called "the big gay panic" (at which Molayne, Sophocles, and the entire Team Skull contingent began laughing so hard that Lillie was honestly afraid that they might throw up), but because it helped you to be able to help other people, like how he was kind of Red's therapist by default because apparently Red ("the absolute hypocrite that he is") didn't see a therapist even though he probably needed to; and also like how he'd had some long chats with Gladion, and he could see that Gladion had had a hellish time of it and he could see how therapy was helping Gladion a lot because sometimes he would say something and realize how it sounded and correct himself, or because he would start to say something, struggle to get the words out, and finally push his weaknesses and insecurities out into the light of the real world where they could actually be fixed, and it took a lot of fucking balls to do that with an actual therapist, let alone one's girlfriend's older brother—

"My god, how much more are you going to say," said Red finally, during one of Blue's pauses for air.

Blue considered this for a few moments. "Well, you made me lose track of where I was, but I think I was only about a third of the way into it. But you're making the face that's telling me I need to shut up now, so it may be for the best if I just leave it at that. Moon, please go to therapy. Okay, I'm done."

Everyone had laughed.

Hau had ended the Moon-only section of the intervention by saying seriously, "It really sucks to feel like you're not enough of a person to be what's being asked of you. I'm learning that first-hand, because of, uh, reasons—" Lillie nearly laughed at the oblique reference to his future kahuna status, and saw amusement in the eyes of those who were in the know, as well as speculation in the eyes of everyone else. They had just seen him summon Tapu Koko, after all. "—but you're not alone in that feeling, Moon. Think about the kahunas, and about Gladion. We get it, Moon. And if you don't think they've all got thoughts that keep them up at night, about things they've been asked to do by higher powers, then I think you're probably delusional."

The next group of people to speak were those addressing both Moon and Amelia. This included Molly, Rogelio, and perhaps surprisingly to other people, Almas and Sophocles; but Lillie was vaguely aware that Moon, Almas, and Sophocles were hatching up some plot with Caroline about Moon making a guest appearance on Almas's Tortwitch channel. They already interacted a lot over Moon's new Chatwitter account, and apparently it was something that a lot of fans wanted to see. Moon had never been into video games, but Almas had made the very good point that half of the reason his channel was so popular was because he wasn't actually very good at video games; the point was to entertain, and many people were entertained by a lack of competence. Either way, they had been talking about it.

There was also the fact that Moon, Hau, Lillie, Sophocles, and Almas had been the core members of the "rescue mission," and had been the ones who had gone down to get Amelia out of the mansion basement laboratory. Bonds that formed in such an experience were not lightly dismissed. It was the same reason that Moon, Hau, Lillie, and Gladion were all as close as they were; it was the same reason that Molly and Rogelio were close; it was the same reason that Almas, Jeremiah, and Ki-moon were close. Sophocles couldn't spend as much time with them as he might have liked, because he had many demands on his schedule between his work as a trial captain, college coursework, and freelance programming; but he came by to see Amelia and hang out with the rest of them at least once a week.

Molly's statement was surprisingly business-like. "My parents are both alcoholics, and my dad wished he'd gotten a son and not a daughter, and he throws shit and punches walls when he gets soused enough. I knew which way the wind was blowing and I didn't really feel like becoming a fucking statistic, so I left. Team Skull was offering a roof over my head and a place to sleep where I didn't feel like I had to worry about being fucking murdered any more than usual, and where I could spend time with people who were like me. Moon, you're the first friend I had since I left who wasn't a Skull, and you were super chill about it and you were chill about Rog being gay and also like, a third of Team Skull being at least a little bit gay, because of the higher probability that gay kids get kicked out or run away and all that. And you're fucking hilarious, and you have a huge heart, and you know how to fix things when you've done something wrong. You're pretty great. And listen, I'm in Team Skull so when I tell you I have seen some shit, I mean I have seen some shit,and I've seen people respond to the shit I have seen with much less grace than you. Trust me, I don't think any less of you for not feeling great about what happened with those rainbow-stealing dickwads."

"Rainbow-stealing?" said Moon, raising an eyebrow.

"Rainbows are for the gays, not dimension-jumping terrorist assholes," said Molly loftily, drawing laughter once more. "Anyway, you mean a lot to me and I want you to get the help you need, because you fucking deserve it."

Then she turned to Amelia and said, "And I want you to get the help you need, because you also fucking deserve it, but also because I've decided I want to be you when I grow the hell up."

"Same," said Moon emphatically.

"Logically, there is no version of an actually-grown-up-me that doesn't probably need a fuckton of therapy. You're a role model for a lot of people besides me, and you should set them a good example."

Lillie found she absolutely approved of the surprise on Amelia's face when she heard this.

Rogelio kept his remarks brief, mostly because he was the quiet type anyway; but also because what he had to say mostly echoed what Molly said, to both Moon and Amelia.

Almas and Sophocles had a silent discussion about who should speak first, staring at each other across the table; but then Sophocles cleared his throat.

"Ms. Wicke," he said, his expression a little wary, "I don't really know you all that well, so I don't want you to feel like I'm just butting in and being nosy or demanding or anything. But, um— I wanted to start by saying thank you for what you've done for Team Skull, and especially for Almas because he means a lot to me. I'm really grateful."

Almas had gone Cherubi-red, sliding down in his chair slightly and staring at the table.

"And I know you want to keep helping him and everybody else, because helping people makes you happy." That was an insight that Lillie had not expected from Sophocles, but it was true and she appreciated that he said it. "But in order to help people and make them and yourself happy, you have to be really healthy and well. I'm not the best example of being healthy, because, um." He gestured awkwardly at himself. "I'm not very athletic and I don't eat well, and all that. But it's something I'm trying to work on, because I don't want to make the people I love—" He suddenly went white, and then red; and his voice suddenly rose an octave. "The people I care about! S-sorry— I don't want t-to make the people I care about feel worried or sad about me. A-a-and you should, um, do the same thing." He gulped. "And, um, Moon— that also goes for you. I don't think it's quite the same because you don't w-worry as much, about making other people happy. But you do worry about keeping other people safe and protecting them. And it's harder to do that if you aren't keeping yourself safe and protected as well." He fell silent, staring very carefully at the table.

Then it was Almas's turn, and he'd been worried about what he was going to say, especially to Amelia, so he'd taken his ideas to Lillie; and she had approved them. Almas didn't like public speaking in person— he was comfortable on a camera, but it had taken a lot of work for him to get to that point. This was a fairly small group of people, but it was still very much beyond Almas's comfort zone. Lillie smiled encouragingly at him.

"Um, Moon," he said, and his voice came out tiny. "It's— it's something I said to Lillie the other week. About Gladion. About how we, um— we kind of see him like our big brother too, because he would always stick up for us when the other Skulls were being mean. So he means a whole lot to us, and that means you're like... you know, my brother's girlfriend, or something. And if Gladion knew how shitty you were feeling he would also be feeling shitty, and I care a lot about him and now I care about you too, so, um— you should do stuff that will help you not feel shitty. And I have to see a therapist for like, literal medical reasons, and I know from experience that therapy really helps me not feel shitty."

Moon actually looked pretty touched by this. Almas took a deep breath, and then turned to Amelia.

"Um— I'm not asking you right now."

Lillie knew what he meant since he'd gone over it with her, but it took Amelia a few moments to figure it out and when she did her eyebrows rose, and her mouth fell open.

"I can't," he added emphatically. "Legally. They wouldn't consent to it. But I turned seventeen in February, and it's the beginning of April, and if we're very lucky and no legal bullshit comes up between now and then, I want to ask you. Next February. And I also want you to have time to think about it, because you've been through a lot. I know you care about me, because you just— you always... I just know." He swallowed. "I can see it in your eyes when you, when you look at me. And I could hear it when you were shouting at them, on the other side of the bathroom door. And I can feel it every time you put your hand on mine, or every time you reach up and touch my face or my shoulder. I'm not used to it yet, and it just... it undoes me, every time. I used to wish mine had been like that, a little. I used to wish she would speak gently and look with love and protect me when I was scared. But she didn't, and you did. And I know that's what— that's what mothers are meant to do. So, um." He took another deep breath. "I'm not asking you right now. But I will ask you in ten months. Which is funny, because that's like, how long a pregnancy is and if you say yes after that then congratulations, it's a boy." Everyone laughed softly, and the tears that had been pooling at the corners of Amelia's eyes for some time finally spilled when she did so. "But I want you to have every thought really clear, and for you to be in a good place mentally when you make that decision, because— I know you care about me, but I care about you, too. So please make sure you can do that, by seeing a therapist."

The final portion of the intervention was for those who were speaking only to Amelia: Jeremiah, Ki-moon, Molayne, and Samiyah.

"Ms. Wicke, we're surely grateful you took us all in," said Jeremiah— and there was another bare hint of his Galarian accent, gone almost before she could register it. "It was a really great thing for you to do. And we're also grateful for how you've treated Al, because most people just don't fucking get it and once they find out about him, they treat him like a freak or they purposefully say the wrong things." He was being vague, Lillie realized, to avoid outing Almas; and that was kind because she was fairly certain that neither Moon's parents, Hau's parents, Hala, Hapu, Red and Blue, nor Samiyah knew that Almas was trans. Nanu probably knew, because he made it his business to know things like that even if he never mentioned it to the person in question; and Sophocles knew so Molayne probably did as well. "But you didn't just treat him normally, which— by itself would have been fucking amazing. You made sure to be even kinder to him, because of all the bullshit he's been through. And that's a rare fucking quality in a person. So we know you're good, you're really, truly good, and that means you deserve all the good things you can have, and that means therapy. And also adopting Al as an adult in ten months."

"Oh my god," sighed Ki-moon, closing his eyes.

"What? It's true!"

Ki-moon took a measured breath, trying not to smile when Jeremiah grinned mischievously at him. "Ms. Wicke, I don't have much to say to you that this idiot didn't already say. But I am grateful, I truly am. He means the world to us, because for nearly six months before the three of us joined Team Skull, we were each other's only family. We were literally homeless. We were living on the streets in Malie City and sleeping in the alley behind the community center. And that was only after we found Jeremiah, because Al and I were on our own for six months before that. The three of us are everything for each other, absolutely everything, and we've all had pretty bad luck with the families we were born into, but we had the good luck to find each other. And now Al's found you, and we're so happy for him."

"This isn't supposed to make me cry," muttered Almas, swiping his sleeve roughly across his eyes.

"I'm pretty sure that if you haven't already cried at least once by this point, you're probably a sociopath," announced Molly.

"I haven't," pointed out Nanu.

She eyed him. "Yes, well, that's you."

"And what's that supposed to mean, exactly?"

"You get a pass because you're depressed. Anyway, it's Molayne's turn."

Molayne didn't speak right away. He was staring at his hands, fingers steepled together; but then he looked up, straight at Amelia, and began moving his hands in silence. After a few moments, Lillie realized that this was Alolan sign language. She was vaguely aware that Amelia had taken a class at some point, but it had surely been ages ago. Samiyah's eyes followed the movements of his hands, as she was the only person besides Amelia who actually understood what he was saying. Amelia frowned in concentration, and nodded absently to herself a few times; but then Lillie caught Molayne as he suddenly smirked and added something else. Samiyah's eyebrows rose practically into the headscarf, and Amelia—

—went bright red.

Almas turned to stare at Lillie, his eyes as wide as she knew hers must be. Molayne was grinning now, raising an eyebrow; and Samiyah covered her mouth, shoulders shaking with laughter.

He finally finished whatever it was he was saying, and after a few moments Amelia cleared her throat. "Um," she said, her voice even more hoarse than usual. "That was— that was, um. Interesting. Thank you."

Lillie was sort of dying to know what exactly it was that Molayne had said that could actually fluster Amelia into using filler words like um, but she had the feeling that neither Amelia, Molayne, nor Samiyah were going to indulge her curiosity. A glance at Moon showed her to be equally intrigued.

"Anyway," said Samiyah, shooting Molayne one last conspiratorial grin, "here I go. My signing's a bit rusty, so I'll spare you the agony of watching me remember how to say stupidly simple things. Mia, you and I got hired here around the same time. We have very different jobs and education levels, but you never once looked down on me for not finishing college. We come from very different families, but you have never once questioned me about why some days I wear a scarf and some days I don't. And five years ago when I called you at three in the morning from my old house in Hau'oli City to come get me, because my asshole ex-husband punched me in the face, you were there in thirty minutes flat with a policeman so that I could get all of my important documents and cherished possessions away without being harassed. And I know for a fact that I am the only person you have ever talked to about your experiences with the president."

This was something Lillie did not know, and found she was grateful to learn.

"And I've wanted to help you for years, but I didn't know what I could do. So finally, after all this happened and Lillie asked me if I would come speak to you— of course I had to come. After all you've done for me, this is the very least I could do for you." Samiyah's eyes were warm. "If nothing else, Mia, I hope you understand after today exactly how many people love you and want the best for you."

* * * * *

It fell to Lillie to deliver the finale: tremulously asking them one more time if they would please consider making the appointment with the psychiatrist today, perhaps even right now, in this room, where we can see you.

She was so nervous that they would say no, but—both of them nodded, and Moon added,

"Honestly I was convinced like, the very second you said I was your best friend."

"Then what did you have us all sit and run our mouths for?" called Blue from the laptop.

"Well, you were all saying such nice things to me, I didn't really have the heart to stop you," was the reply— and there it was, just a glimmer of the mischievous, cheerful, hilarious Moon she knew. She nearly started crying again when she saw how incredibly relieved Yoshiro looked when he heard this, when she saw how the breath whooshed out from his mouth as though he had been holding it.

"I can't speak very loudly these days," added Amelia, indicating the neck brace and, presumably, the crushed trachea that was still healing. "So I didn't bother trying to tell you I agreed, either."

"Well, you could have used sign language," called Molayne, grinning from the other end of the room.

"I'm also rather of Moon's opinion on the matter. It's nice to feel— appreciated."

The pause and renewed flush, before she said that last word, told Lillie that it hadn't been the word she originally thought of using.

Molly opened the tablet, indicating a form that would auto-schedule Amelia for a visit with an Aether psychiatrist. "Moon, you can sign up through Aether too, if you want," she said absently. "But I think maybe you shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Firstly, it's a longer commute from here to the League, and now that Ms. Wicke is mobile again you probably need to be doing more stuff with your own job, and that means you should go back to sleeping at your house." Moon opened her mouth to protest this, but then frowned and nodded because Molly was right. "It would be easier for you if you found someone on Melemele or Ula'ula, which sort of rules out the Poni Island hospital by default. I made a list of psychiatric practices in convenient locations and I've organized them by Skrelp review, so once I've finished with Ms. Wicke's form you can come over here and have a look."

"Oh, cool, thank you," said Moon, looking relieved. "Like, I'm on board with this whole thing now, but I have no idea how to go about it."

"Don't thank me too quickly," said Molly dryly. "I helped Plumeria with this kind of thing a lot before we came here, because about a third of us have like, super serious issues that had to be dealt with by either a shrink, a neurologist, or a therapist. The rest of us could have used the fucking therapy, but it wasn't vital so we kind of just ignored it. Which is how most things have gone in Team Skull, and that's not a complaint so much as a statement of fact. Anyway, my point is that I already have personal experience with most of the shrinks on the list, and I have a list of pros and cons for each one of them, and knowing you I could maybe narrow it down to like, five people but like Jeremiah said, trauma fucks you up and I don't know if I would be right in guessing what you need rather than what you want."

People were milling around the room and getting food; now that Moon and Amelia had both agreed to make some vitally-needed changes, the atmosphere had moved to something more festive, almost celebratory. Lillie knew she should probably go and get something to eat, but she found that her legs did not want to assist her in standing.

"All right?"

That was Hau's voice, low in her ear; and when Lillie turned to look up at him he was closer than she expected, looking at her with soft, deep-grey eyes.

"Not entirely, but at least it's after the fact and I didn't throw up while I was trying to talk," she admitted.

"Absolute fucking mood," murmured Almas on her other side.

"What about you?" Hau asked him. "You doing all right?"

Almas stared up at him, surprised. "Um— I'm fine."

"Cool. I'm gonna take Lillie to get a plate, and I'm going to tell Sophocles to get you one."

"I think he anticipated you," said Lillie, nodding toward Sophocles; he was walking toward them with two plates and an uncertain expression. "Here, he can have my chair. That way you can stay next to Amelia and also sit with him."

Almas flushed. "That's— that's nice of you, thanks."

Hau held out a hand to assist Lillie with standing. It took a few moments for her legs to get with the program, but then she was following Hau on autopilot over to the food. It was a lunch spread, with sandwiches and chips and some pasta-salads or potato-salads; but there was also fresh fruit and Lillie was very pleased to see Cheri berries included in the options. Hau reached for things as he loaded a plate for her, asking if it was what she wanted just to confirm his guess. He guessed right every time, and Lillie was both impressed and flustered by how much attention he paid to such little things like her sandwich preferences or her favorite fruit or chips.

"Okay, here's your food, now hang on while I get mine. Do you want to go somewhere quiet?"

Lillie nodded.

"Okay. Can you wait in here, or do you want to slip out into the hallway?"

Lillie stared at him. She already loved him, loved him so much at only seventeen that it was probably ridiculous; but just now— just now she was in awe, because it was like he was reading her mind and her heart burned with the sweet ache of it.

"Hallway," she said, and he nodded. "We could eat outside, maybe?"

"Fresh air and sunshine, good choice," said Hau approvingly. "Do you want me to walk you out before I grab my food?"

Lillie shook her head. "I can manage," she murmured, and slipped out of the doors with her plate of food.

She blinked in surprise to see Cassie sitting on the floor and Raquel leaning on the wall, with bored expressions on their faces. Stranger than their presence alone was the fact that Cassie had at least ten knives, sheathed and laying in a neat row on the floor; and she was dragging one across what appeared to be a whetstone, listening to the whining ring that echoed with each stroke.

"Um— hello. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Lillie, hey. Officially, we're just hanging out," drawled Raquel. Lillie frankly found Raquel a little intimidating, but the older girl shot her a wink. "Unofficially, your boyfriend was worried that your crazy mama might try and pull some bullshit or even just eavesdrop on a bunch of vulnerable people baring their hearts to one another, so he asked if we'd mind keeping an eye out for her."

"Oh my god," groaned Lillie, warmth welling up in her chest and throat once more. "He thought of everything. Oh my god, I love him so much."

"Be sure you tell him that," said Raquel slyly. "Tell him real good."

"Raquel, don't be fucking gross," said Cassie, without looking up from her work. "And he was right, because she did peek down this hallway a couple of times. I glared at her and picked up the machete, and she left pretty quick after that."

"Thank you."

"Mhm. You've got a good one, take care of him."

Lillie studied Cassie for a few seconds. "I know I haven't been really— that I don't act like the typical girlfriend when it comes to my boyfriend's ex-girlfriend," she said hesitantly. "But you also seem really— like it doesn't bother you or anything, right? I don't want to bother you."

At this Cassie looked up, hands stilling. She eyed Lillie for a few moments.

"For me, Hau was a mistake."

"I— what?"

"For me, Hau was a mistake," repeated Cassie. There was nothing venomous, or even upset in her tone. "He was very nice, and I liked having a friend. A close friend, even. But I shouldn't have dated him."

"He said the break-up was, um, amicable."

"It was. But I still shouldn't have dated him." Her hands twitched slightly, and she paused before setting down both knife and whetstone. Lillie thought this was probably a good decision. "Most people assume I'm a lesbian. Because I wear a lot of flannel, and because I'm really tall and athletic for a girl. Most of the Skulls thought I was when I showed up."

"But you're not?" guessed Lillie.

A ghost of a smile flickered around Cassie's mouth. "Nope."

She didn't elaborate, but Lillie wasn't about to ask what are you, then, because that would just be rude.

And there wasn't time, because Hau came out, holding a plate in each hand and clinging onto a paper plate filled with potato chips in his mouth. He blinked at the three of them a few times, then raised an eyebrow at Lillie.

"Good god, did you take half the table?" demanded Raquel.

"He used to play rugby, and rugby players eat like Emboars," said Cassie placidly, returning to her knives. "See you around."

Hau rolled his eyes, but he was clearly amused. Lillie led him outside, holding the door as his hands were full, and they made their way over to one of the low garden-walls.

"So," he said conversationally, as they started eating, "Moon said some really, really mean shit to you when she was throwing a temper tantrum at the beginning."

Lillie grimaced. "I love that you're asking me about it, it's very considerate and sweet of you. However, I don't think she meant it, and she did apologize already."

"I know, and that is great and I love that about Moon. But that doesn't mean you have to forgive her right away. Seriously, it was pretty low of her to pull the Lusamine card on you, not once but twice."

"Yeah, it was," called a voice, and they both turned to see Moon, walking toward them with a sheepish expression on her face.

"I'm not going to stay long," she said quickly. "Blue's talking to Jeremiah, Molly, and Molayne, and that's a combination that could literally destroy the world so I need to keep an eye on it. But I just wanted to apologize again. I was super mad, but that's no excuse and I feel terrible for saying it. I'm really, really sorry."

The remarks had stung, but— "I've said meaner things to Gladion," Lillie reminded her. "And I know that wasn't— you. It was, but it wasn't."

"It was my temper," agreed Moon, looking relieved. "Like, sometimes people say what they're really thinking when they're angry, right? But even I know that thoughts are weird and sometimes what we say or think isn't really like, the same as how we feel."

"Yes," said Lillie, with a nod. "I understand, Moon. It did hurt, but your regret more than makes up for it."

"Still," said Hau, and his tone was deceptively light, "if you ever say anything like that to her ever again, I will make sure you regret it."

"Hau!"

"I won't do anything," he clarified. "But I will tell Plumeria on you."

Moon winced. "Wow, you know how to take a threat straight to eleven. But honestly, if I ever say something like that again I would deserve it. You've got a deal."

"Good. Pleasure doing business with you."

"I cannot believe the two of you," muttered Lillie, but she felt herself warming all the same.

Moon turned to go, but then hesitated and turned back. "Um, Lillie?"

"Hm?"

"You're my best friend, too."

For a couple of seconds the world stopped, and then Hau had to dive to catch Lillie's plate because she had burst up without even thinking about it, without a breath or doubt, because if she didn't hug Moon right then and there she was going to cry.

Moon made a startled little gasp, which turned into several more quiet gasps that Lillie ignored because she was also crying. Again.

The world passed by, and Lillie could hear Hau politely ignoring them and munching on potato chips. She held her best friend and her best friend sobbed into her shoulder.

"Oh, man," said Moon, a bit awkwardly, stepping away and wiping her eyes with her bare arm. "I guess I needed that."

"Anytime, Moon." Lillie thought of nights spent in a shared tent, whispering secrets and lancing some of the sorest soul-wounds of her childhood. "Really, any time."

"I— yeah. Yeah, okay."

"Do you promise?"

Moon met her eyes, startled, then relaxed into something like ruefulness. "Well, if I'd known having a best friend would be like getting a third mom, maybe I'd have passed," she teased. "Yes, Lillie, I promise."

"Third mom?" said Hau dryly.

"Wicke has been dibsed and Plumeria has too many children already, so I'm claiming Olivia." Moon winked at the two of them, wiggled her fingers in a wave, and turned to go back inside.

It was all going to be okay, Lillie thought, for the first time in a month. It was all really going to be okay.

Chapter Text

Chat: girl power

marianne dashwood changed the chat name to LILLIE SEND HELP

marianne dashwood changed their name to hot mess

marianne dashwood changed elinor dashwood's name to just hot

just hot: You have my attention. What's wrong?

hot mess: Picture Attachment: [namechange.png]

hot mess: Okie good

hot mess: Um so as it turns out

hot mess: I have an interview in four days

hot mess: WITH BATTLERS INTERNATIONAL

hot mess: BATTLERS FUCKING INTERNATIONAL, LILLIE

hot mess: LIKE THE SUPER FANCY ONE THAT INTERVIEWS RED LIKE ONCE A YEAR

hot mess: LIKE THE ONE THAT DID THE ICONIC INTERVIEW-SLASH-FASHION SHOOT WITH NATE, ROSA, AND HUGH BECAUSE THEY KEEP BEATING EACH OTHER SO OFTEN THAT THEY JUST LITERALLY ARE ALL CHAMPIONS ON PAPER

hot mess: AND IN THAT SAME INTERVIEW THEY BASICALLY SAID THEY WERE ALL TOGETHER LIKE IN A POLY RELATIONSHIP

hot mess: BECAUSE HUGH SAID "OUR LIVING SITUATION IS KIND OF LIKE RED AND BLUE'S LIVING SITUATION"

hot mess: AND THE INTERVIEWER SAID HE DEADASS WINKED AT HIM WHEN HE SAID IT

just hot: That does seem like a confirmation of a relationship status, yes.

hot mess: LILLIE THEY WANT TO INTERVIEW ME

hot mess: ALSO APPARENTLY I'M IN TROUBLE WITH KAHILI BECAUSE SHE SENT ME THIS INFORMATION LIKE A WEEK AGO

hot mess: BOTH SHE AND CAROLINE ASSUMED I'D READ THAT EMAIL BUT IT WAS LIKE AT THE VERY BOTTOM OF A LONG LIST OF SHIT AND I WAS SLEEP-DEPRIVED

hot mess: AND ALSO KIND OF FUCKING DEPRESSED OR WHATEVER

just hot: I can indeed attest to you experiencing depression recently.

hot mess: I FEEL LIKE YOU ARE MOCKING ME

just hot: And I will continue to mock you until you stop using capslock. It's a little hard on the eyes.

just hot: I know it's meant to symbolize you shouting, but it's ten at night and we are in adjoining rooms so I know for a fact that you are not shouting. Do you want me to come in and talk?

hot mess: ...Yeah actually

* * * * *

Moon set Rotom down on her bedside table and stared at the ceiling as quiet footsteps padded to her bedroom door. Lillie came in without knocking and sat down on the bed.

"What's the matter?" she said, cutting right to the heart of the thing. Moon scooted over on the bed, giving Lillie room; to her surprise, her friend crawled up the bed and wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

For a few moments Moon couldn't speak, because— well, because yesterday she'd walked into her own fucking intervention because she hadn't realized how bad she was feeling, and how obvious it was to everyone else. And Lillie had organized the whole thing because she'd been dealing with it on Wicke's end for years— and because she'd known damn well that holding one just for Moon wouldn't have done anything for Wicke, and holding one just for Wicke wouldn't have done anything for Moon. It was clever and sneaky and kind, and Moon supposed that she had been underestimating how observant Lillie was, and how far she'd come in her own therapy and healing process.

The point was— she'd also underestimated how much Lillie cared about her. And probably also how much she cared about Lillie in return.

"So, Battlers International always has these absolutely iconic high fashion and low-key sexy photoshoots that take up like, a third of the issue when they do an interview with a new Champion," she finally said. "I remember the one with Nate, Rosa, and Hugh in Unova, but only like, a couple years before that they did one for Iris, and I think it was sometime between then that either Serena or Calem did one in Kalos? The Diantha issue came out when I was like ten, that one was just like a photographic masterpiece. Oh, and Cynthia's! That one was super anticipated because she became the Sinnoan champion and then didn't do any interviews or any media appearances at all for like, a year and a half. Battlers International was her first interview, and she'd been turning them down for a while before she finally agreed to it."

"Oh, yes," said Lillie vaguely. "I think I remember that one. Gladion used to have an issue he kept under his mattress."

Moon sat bolt upright, making Lillie jump. "I— what?"

"Mm. I don't know if he still has it, but it was definitely that one. What other Champion is blond and wears all black, all the time?"

"Yeah, no, definitely just Cynthia, but, like— oh my god. If Cynthia fits Gladion's aesthetic preference then what the fuck does he see in me, I'm shaped like a Wepear Berry and I just wear shorts and T-shirts all the time—"

"And you think you're going to be wearing shorts and T-shirts for this interview, do you?" said Lillie acidly.

Moon turned to blink at her friend and saw a disapproving stare on Lillie's face. She had to mentally rewind through her last babbling remark and realized what she'd said.

"Oh. Um, probably not."

"Exactly. And I'm fairly certain that Gladion's interest in that issue of the magazine had to do more with the article."

"How do you know? He was a teenage boy, wasn't he?"

"Yes," said Lillie primly, "but Gladion's never liked anyone for superficial reasons. He liked who you were long before he took your appearance into account."

Moon blinked at Lillie for a few moments, but then a short puff of laughter released itself from her mouth. "I mean— now I kind of feel bad, because I was objectifying him like, the second I met him."

"Well, he had the advantage over you there. I told him about you first, and he escorted me when I had to take Snowfall for her rabies shot on Poni Island, so he saw you when we got back and you had just finished giving that one Trainer a piece of your mind."

Moon winced. "I do not think I was at my best in that situation."

"No," said Lillie, "but you do remember that text I showed you, didn't you? He said you were cute over text. That was a superficial judgment, for him. He liked you more because you'd been kind to me."

"I— oh." Moon felt herself blushing, and Lillie grinned knowingly. "Okay. I'm literally getting insecure about someone Gladion's never met and may never meet. Though now I'm a Champion and he's my boyfriend, which mean the chances of it happening have actually gone up. Fuck."

"I honestly wouldn't worry about it, but even if you can't help worrying— you're getting your own photoshoot in four days." Lillie's grin was mischievous. "We'll just have to make sure that yours is better."

Moon swallowed. "I mean— that is sort of what I was originally going to ask you about? I have to go shopping because Kahili said I need better interview clothes. I was actually supposed to go like, the Saturday after I became the champion, but, uh. There was a whole Rainbow Rocket thing. That I, you know, had to deal with. But I thought maybe Amelia wouldn't mind helping, because she always looks really put-together." She paused. "That is, when she's not forced to wear a hospital gown or scrubs."

"Yes, I figured that was what you meant," said Lillie dryly. "But there are quite a few people who might like to be included in the shopping experience."

"Um, I figured I'd take my mom, and probably Caroline if she's not busy? Well, even if she's got school or whatever I can write her an excuse note because I'm her boss."

"Molly and Rogelio will probably murder you if you don't take them."

"Oh, god, you're right. We're going to have to make like, an entire thing out of this, aren't we?"

Lillie's answering grin was unnerving. "Yes, we are."

* * * * *

"This is the best day of my life," said Molly gleefully.

Moon eyed the completely-full shopping cart her friend was pushing. "We just got here. What is that for?"

"It's for you! Come on, your job is to go in the dressing room and try on what we tell you to try on."

"What, I can't pick my own clothes?"

"If you wanted to pick your own clothes, you wouldn't have invited us," pointed out Rogelio, and that was actually a very good point so she allowed him to drag her after Molly.

"Also, your sense of fashion is kind of hopelessly juvenile," called Caroline after them.

"Juvenile? You are literally sixteen!"

"I literally have eyes, Moon."

"Gladion doesn't think I look frumpy, and he dresses pretty well these days!"

"Gladion knows shit-all about women's fashion," Molly informed her. "He doesn't give a shit about your clothes, because he likes you. It's cute, and you're very lucky."

"Is that boy going in the dressing room with them?" she heard Kahili ask quietly.

"He's gay and apparently taken, so I doubt it will be an issue," was her mother's response. The last thing she heard before she was completely out of earshot was the soft laughter of Amelia and Lillie.

The ordeal that followed wasn't exactly torturous— Moon enjoyed shopping every now and then, and it was true that she hadn't gone in a while and probably needed some new bras, among other things; but everyone she'd asked (or who had invited themselves along) seemed to have a different idea about what she ought to be wearing. Moon's personal aesthetic tended to run along the lines of comfortable, minimal, and purple. She had grown up with Kantonian weather, which meant that Alola was hot; and so she wore a lot of T-shirts and tank tops, and nearly always shorts as well. And purple was her favorite color, so there was plenty of that in her wardrobe.

Lillie's suggestions tended to be more pastel and frilly than what Moon liked. Wicke's suggestions were equally pastel but less frilly; and she also tended to recommend long-sleeved sweaters, knee-length skirts, and tights. Molly and Rogelio brought her a lot of different things to try, all of them either colorful or short or tight or a combination of the three. Kahili didn't make suggestions, though Moon could tell what she approved of and what she didn't based on how hard her lips were pressed together— resisting the urge, probably, to say she didn't like something.

But it was Caroline, backed up by Moon's mother, who actually took charge of the entire thing. After perhaps forty-five minutes of Moon trying various looks and cringing at herself in the mirror every time, the younger girl got to her feet and announced, "All right, this isn't working, and I'll tell you why. It's because you're all either imposing your own preferences, or imposing your idea of what you think Moon will like, onto your choices. Which is something everyone does, so don't feel too bad about it." She looked at Moon. "Sit down and breathe for a minute, you look like you're going to faint. Does anyone have water?"

"Uh, no, I didn't think to bring any," said Molly, with a frown.

"That's fine." Caroline turned to Kahili. "Go out into the mall and buy nine bottles of water and some granola bars."

"I'm the League representative—" began Kahili.

"Yes," said Caroline, cutting her off ruthlessly. "You also don't like anything that's been suggested so far, which means firstly, you're being unhelpful and secondly, you're making Moon nervous. I promise we are not going to commit to making Moon look like a stripper or a drag queen while you're gone."

"Drag queen is an aesthetic," protested Rogelio.

"Absolutely, but Moon is not a drag queen."

He conceded the point with a nod. Kahili stared at Caroline for a few moments, then stood with an irritated sigh and walked out into the mall.

"Save your receipts, we get reimbursed from the League budget!" Caroline called after her.

"I know that!" was the irritated reply.

"Why are you pissing her off?" demanded Moon in a horrified whisper.

"I'm not pissing her off," said Caroline calmly. "She needs some time to cool down, because she was gearing up to start yelling at those two." She waved at Molly and Rogelio, who looked slightly sheepish. "And we could all probably do with some water, anyway. Guys, I know it's exciting to help a fashion-clueless friend find an entire aesthetic, but you have to think about what Moon values in clothes, not about how you want her to look. She's not a dress-up doll."

"Moon wears T-shirts, tank tops, and shorts," said Molly, for probably the eighth time that morning.

"Yes, but why?" said Caroline patiently. "Think about that for a minute, okay?"

Moon went into the dressing room to remove the current outfit— a neon-green sundress that she was pretty sure was actually just a long shirt— and put on a gray bathrobe that Caroline had actually brought from home, "so you don't have to put your clothes back on if you need to come out and ask a question."

"Oh!" said Molly suddenly.

"What is it?"

"Moon wears T-shirts, tank tops, and shorts because they're comfy and easy to wear."

"What do you say, Moon?" called Caroline.

"She's not wrong," called Moon. "Like generally speaking I don't really give a shit about clothes? That's why I'm okay with all of you being here. You have more opinions than I do."

"So we need to find things that are easy to wear?"

"That's one criteria, yes."

"Moon prefers purples and blues," offered Lillie.

"True, but color shouldn't be a factor in picking something cute unless you have a lot of color options anyway. Also, I am already putting a veto on Moon being a monochromatic Champion; Cynthia already does that."

"Yeah she does," said Molly, with a dreamy little sigh.

"Mrs. Hawkins, have you got something?"

"Yes," said Moon's mother, "though she may not thank me for saying it."

Moon frowned.

"Is that okay, Moon?" called Caroline.

"Um, yeah, whatever. Go ahead, Mom."

"Marion didn't wear shorts, T-shirts and tank tops nearly as often when we lived in Kanto, and I didn't wear things like that, either. Part of that is just because Kanto is colder, but part of that was because she and I both faced some rude commentary from primarily my mother-in-law, but also from friends, neighbors, and complete strangers, about the color of our skin. Whether consciously or not, I think we both tended to wear clothes that covered up more because it was just tedious to have to deal with that all the time."

"From your mother-in-law?" said Molly indignantly. "Like, Moon's own fucking grandmother?"

"Yes."

Moon closed her eyes and sighed. "The worst part is that Nana likes us," she called out to the group outside. "Like, she thinks we're great people. She's proud of how I made good grades and she loves Mom's cooking. But you will never meet someone who finds it more difficult to give someone a fucking compliment to their face. And her whole attitude was like: wow, Kapua and Marion are great people; it's such a shame that they're not Kantonian. Which is like— fucking exhausting, honestly."

"That is so fucked up," said Rogelio quietly. "That is seriously fucked up— oh my god, Mrs. Hawkins, are you crying?"

Moon scrambled to her feet, hastily tying the gray bathrobe, and flew out to where her mother was fumbling with a travel pack of tissues.

"It's so nice to be home in Alola again," she explained, her voice soft. "That one man in the interview was quite rude to Marion, but it's nice to feel like I can just go outside and get the mail in shorts and a T-shirt and not see the old lady next door frowning at my legs. Yoshiro asked his mother to just— not say things like that, especially in front of Marion. And his father tried, too. But Nana's just— incorrigible."

"I sympathize," said Wicke quietly, in her still-hoarse voice. "My mother is also Kantonian, and she had similar attitudes about darker skin. I was never personally subjected to it as I inherited her fair coloring, but I did have to listen to it."

"Well shit, no wonder you hate Lusamine. You already had a shitty mother."

Wicke regarded Molly for a few moments.

Molly winced. "Oh. That was kind of tactless, wasn't it?"

"Yes, but you're not wrong."

"Sorry."

"It's of no matter." Wicke waved her off. "I usually wear a sweater and tights because layers can be removed if one gets too warm, but the lowest levels of the Paradise are always cold due to their underwater location and lack of sunlight. A knee-length skirt is considered appropriate business wear, and pencil skirts are fashionable. I also wear heels, but mine are never too high that I can't run in them." She cleared her throat. "In the past, I have also selected shoes by heel height to ensure that I was shorter than Lusamine. If we are both standing without heels, she is about an inch and a half taller than I am. She generally also wore heels so it wasn't an issue, but I had the desire to appear as unthreatening as possible to her."

"It really always comes down to the details with you, doesn't it?" said Moon, impressed.

"One does what one must," said Wicke, a small smile curling onto her lips, "but an associate's degree in psychology does help with a surprising number of things."

"You understand how to send a message with clothes," said Caroline approvingly. "And Moon, you should think about that, too. What kind of message do you want to send with your clothes?"

"Well, now I kind of want to say, I'm a woman of color, and fuck you if you don't like it."

"Excellent. So, showing skin is all right?"

"Yeah, but not too much because I work in the coldest place in Alola. I guess for interviews in other places that doesn't really matter..." Moon frowned. "I just realized I don't know where this interview is going to take place."

"Ms. Hano requested the use of the mansion," said Wicke placidly. "It makes for some very nice photography."

"Oh, cool. So we can just go right over when we're done here?"

"Indeed. I also offered to host the journalist and photographer from Battlers International here. They arrived last evening, and are likely still recovering from jet lag."

"They're from Unova, right?" asked Rogelio.

Caroline nodded. "The magazine's based out of Unova. They're sponsored by the Pokémon World Tournament, and they're kind of a big fucking deal." She studied Moon again. "I think I have a better idea of what we're looking for, but I have one more suggestion. Where are the clothes you came with?"

"In the dressing room."

"Did you bring that black cap with the metal rings in it that you like wearing?"

"Yeah, I usually wear that in public. Because Red always wears the same hat in public, so when he goes somewhere without it people don't always recognize him."

"Good. Would you bring it out here?"

"Um, sure." Moon went into the dressing room and retrieved the cap, bringing it out and holding it up. "What do you need it for?"

Caroline took it and held it up for Lillie, Molly, and Rogelio. "Just remember: Moon's only a little bit of a punk."

All three of their faces lit up, and Molly turned and began running through the store. Rogelio made a beeline in a different direction. Lillie studied the cap for a little longer, but then she nodded decisively and went off in a third direction.

"What is happening?" asked Moon, taking the cap back from Caroline.

"All three of them have very different aesthetics," said Caroline cheerfully. "Like, it's gonna be different with Rogelio because he's a boy, but he knows women's fashion because he's into drag. His taste is power-femme, Molly's is more goth and punk, and Lillie's is— I hesitate to say childlike, because she's not a child. Simple might be a better word."

"I think innocent is what you're looking for," said Wicke. "Lusamine dictated what she wore for most of her life, and she's only fairly recently begun to reclaim that choice."

"Okay, yeah. I can see that. My point is, their opinions are a good starting point, but they have to remember that you're the one actually wearing the clothes."

"Oh. Okay. I think."

"Trust me on this. It's not really a public affairs thing per se, but part of a public affairs job specifically for a celebrity is being knowledgeable about fashion to make your own trend. I've got a few ideas for that."

* * * * *

They weren't able to spend as much time on an entire wardrobe as Moon might have liked, but they were able to put together several outfits. Caroline's idea was to combine different styles of clothing— "because Moon has a lot of different sides and has had a lot of different influences, and a patchwork style will reflect that."

The one she ended up going with for the interview was a white blouse with a fussy bow at the neck— Lillie's suggestion— paired with, surprisingly, an imitation leather miniskirt, which was entirely Molly's fault. When Moon had walked out of the dressing room Kahili's eyebrows had both risen.

"That isn't half bad," she said. It was the first verbal comment she'd offered on any of the clothes. "The contrast between the blouse and the skirt makes you look very... young."

"I mean, I'm eighteen. How young are we talking?"

"Well, older than you are now," amended Kahili. "The skirt looks like something one might wear to a nightclub—"

"Ooh, thank you!" said Molly, beaming.

"— and once one reaches a certain age, nightclubs lose their appeal entirely. However, you should probably have a jacket or a shawl. I've had an interview with Battlers International, so I have an idea of what the photographer prefers."

"What about this?" offered Rogelio, holding up a plum-colored blazer.

"Oh, I actually really like that," said Moon, reaching out. "Can I see?"

"Yeah, sure, try it on."

The blazer was approved of unanimously.

"Next," said Caroline, and there was a sudden deep and mischievous glimmer in her eye, "we find shoes."

Moon had a sudden sense of foreboding, especially when she saw the same mischief in Molly's and Rogelio's eyes.

"I'm either going to love this, or I'm going to hate this," she predicted.

"Yes," agreed Caroline. "And if I'm correct about what ideas those two are having, it will probably be both."

* * * * *

"Oh my god I cannot wear these."

"Do you like how they look?"

"I-I mean—" Moon hesitated, staring at the shoes. She already had long legs, but these shoes made them even longer. "Yes? But they don't have a price tag, like most of the clothes in this shop, and I know perfectly well that not having a price tag means it's going to be horrifically fucking expensive. They probably cost more than my life is worth, and if the League is paying for this—"

"It's an investment," said Kahili curtly. "Ordinarily, the League isn't going to subsidize your wardrobe, but you had nothing suitable before now. I have exactly two pairs of designer shoes, and I take very good care of them. Nobody has ever commented on the fact that I only have two pairs of shoes I wear to non-battle events, because they're blinded by the brand."

"Exactly," said Caroline triumphantly. "Now shut up and let your job pay for your one-hundred-twenty-five-thousand-Poké shoes."

"You're fucking kidding me these cannot be a hundred twenty-five thousand Poké—"

"If I were not saving up for college," said Molly, with the most serious expression Moon had ever seen on her face, "I would be emptying my fucking bank account right now. They are Lopunnins. Respect the fucking Lopunnins."

"It is ridiculous to spend that much on a single pair of shoes!"

"Molly," said Wicke, "pick one pair of shoes and I'll put it on my card. Consider it a holiday bonus."

Molly screamed and took off running toward the rest of the shoes. Wicke sighed. "I'm so glad I had this store closed for our use today."

"What holiday do you mean?" Lillie asked her. "It's the middle of April."

Wicke considered this. "Christmas, I suppose," she decided. "It can be a late bonus. And I suppose it's Gladion's birthday today, but I don't think getting Molly a pair of designer shoes is the correct way to celebrate that."

"But getting Moon a pair of designer shoes might be," said Rogelio slyly, "because Gladion really likes her legs and those stilettos definitely make them look longer."

"Hmm," murmured Wicke, studying Moon's feet with a speculative expression.

"Oh my god, absolutely fucking not. If I want Gladion to appreciate my legs, I'll pay for my own damn shoes, thank you very much."

Kahili let out a tiny sigh. "I don't know why I subjected myself to this," she murmured. "I really don't."

"Because you don't trust Moon," said Caroline placidly.

"Caroline why are you pissing her off—"

"I'm not."

"She's not," confirmed Kahili with a weary sigh. "The only thing I'm annoyed about is how loud these two are, and that is, at the very most, a mild annoyance." She waved one hand in the direction of a distantly screeching Molly and then at Rogelio, who offered a sweet, slightly bashful smile in response.

"Plus," added Caroline, grinning, "I've made it my personal duty to embarrass both of you by explaining what you're feeling to one another, until you get along well enough to observe it all on your own."

Moon exchanged a horrified glance with Kahili.

"See? You're already off to a good start!"

* * * * *

Moon had never owned a pair of shoes that expensive— and as a matter of fact, she had never owned a pair of heels in her entire life. She was therefore made to walk in them back to the mansion, which looked kind of ridiculous with her regular clothes. It was horribly embarrassing to discover that walking in heels this high was something that took a lot more grace than she actually had.

"Oh my god I hate this," she chanted, as her foot came down at an awkward angle and she nearly went windmilling into a large rosebush planter. Molly and Rogelio, on either side of her, steadied her in time. "I feel like a, like a fucking— you've seen videos of baby Girafarig, right?"

"I can see the resemblance," agreed Molly. She was also wearing her brand new shoes, which were unsurprisingly designed with rainbows on the straps. Her heel was possibly taller than Moon's, which was saying something; because Molly was an inch or two shorter than Moon naturally and they were about the same height at the moment. And she was having no trouble at all with walking in heels and keeping Moon from toppling over. "You're both all legs, anyway."

"How are you doing this?" demanded Moon, staring at Molly's feet.

"Well, to begin with I've worn heels before. That would be a major factor. Also, you are wearing a stiletto and I am wearing a chunky heel."

"Why didn't we get me one of those, then?"

"Well, we did show you a bunch of options and you liked these best," Rogelio reminded her. "And you know perfectly well that you chose these, out of all the options, because they make your legs look about a mile long."

Moon felt her face flare with heat, but Rogelio was correct and it would be futile to deny it. Her mother and Lillie were carrying the outfits she'd chosen. All of this was expensive, because it was from the most high-end luxury shop in the Aether Boutique; but these shoes cost as much as everything else put together.

There was another pair of shoes that did not cost as much as six months rent for her father's apartment at the Power Plant (though they were still shockingly expensive); there was a swishy purple dress that Wicke was going to be taking to a tailor along with Moon's measurements; and there was a shirt— or what everyone else except for Lillie and her mother claimed was a shirt— that was made of black silk and lace and had sleeves without shoulders, a built-in bra so that she didn't have to wear one with it, and a cropped hem that showed quite a bit of her stomach. That had been Rogelio's pick, and he had been very insistent that she should wear it with a pair of high-waisted, maroon pinstriped trousers; and Molly had spent about ten minutes flailing over the combination. Moon had felt pretty naked, but Caroline had handed her the baseball cap and told her she could wear it with either hiking boots or Converse high-top sneakers— as long as she cleaned them first. Those two things instantly made the outfit more comfortable, and she had to admit that she looked pretty damn good but also still like herself, which was what she'd been the most worried about.

Kahili had made a polite inquiry about jewelry, but that was the only thing Moon had been really firm about: earrings of any kind were fine, but she always wore the necklace that Gladion had given her and the bracelet that Hau had got for her, and she would always wear those regardless of whether or not they matched the outfit. Caroline had agreed this was fine, and that people expected to see her wearing those things anyway; and since Kahili had already seemed to accept the fact that Caroline was in charge, she had no choice but to acquiesce.

The journalist and photographer were waiting in the conference room when Moon finally staggered back to the mansion. Molly finally let her untie the satin ribbons and walk on her own two feet, and she went forward with Wicke and Kahili to introduce herself. It was easy to tell who was who, because the photographer was fiddling with a gorgeous camera that hung on a strap around her neck.

"Curtis Stiles," said the journalist, offering his hand to shake.

"Moon Hawkins, but you probably knew that." Moon accepted the handshake. "I love Battlers International. The Champion features are some my favorite things to read, and you've been writing them for a few years right?"

Curtis beamed. "I have! That's very flattering, thank you. Nancy, won't you introduce yourself?"

The photographer looked up, startled; a pink tinge spread to her cheeks. "Oh! Um, yes. I'm Nancy Hale. Nice to meet you, Champion Hawkins."

"Just Moon is fine. Um— what kind of camera do you have? I usually use my Rotom-Dex to take pictures and it's pretty good quality, but it would be nice to get a real camera."

"Oh, a Rotom-Dex? I've heard of those. Um, I have a few different cameras with me," admitted Nancy. "But this one is just a DSLR, so I can get an idea of what I'll need to set up for the mirrorless."

"That's the really good one, right?"

"Yes, that's what I use for the full-page shots. Um, on that note— where exactly will we be shooting?"

"There are a couple of currently-empty bedrooms that have superior natural lighting, suggested Wicke. "Though if you want to shoot outside, you'll probably want to do that fairly soon."

Nancy nodded. "Yes, it's nearly the right time of day for that."

"So I should get dressed, then?"

"Yes, and also do hair and makeup and whatever you need."

Moon blinked for a few moments. "I didn't bring any makeup and I don't really... do my hair? I kind of just run a brush through it in the morning?"

Kahili looked at her for a few moments, then sighed quietly.

"It won't be an issue," said Wicke calmly. "I've already enlisted assistance on that score. They'll be right up to help."

"Really? Who?"

* * * * *

"I said, hold the fuck still, or I'm going to take your damn eye out," snapped Plumeria.

"I can't help it, it tickles! It feels like a Lillipup is licking my eyeball!"

"Have you really never had eyeliner on your waterline before?" said Trinh skeptically, surveying her with crossed arms.

"Clearly not," muttered Moon, doing her best not to twitch as Plumeria applied the liner. "Ugh, that feels so weird."

"Can you have her lean forward for a second?" asked Uilani. "I'm just trimming some of the split ends in the back and I can't see what I'm doing."

"Hang on." Plumeria finished Moon's eye, then removed her hands. "Okay, lean forward."

"Thanks." Uilani made a few snips. "I'll wait to style everything else until you're finished."

"Mhm." Plumeria turned to frown at a table, upon which had been spread a vast amount of bottles, palettes, powders, and creams. "I think, based on this blazer and her skin tone, we should probably go for gold?"

"Yeah, that'll look good," agreed Trinh. "There's gold thread woven into the blazer, see? It's only like, every now and then, but it's enough to catch the light."

"Good catch."

"But you should smoke brown right around the eyes, and then fade out to gold. But like, a lot of gold."

"Mm, I can see it," agreed Plumeria, nodding.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but I trust you to not make me look like an idiot."

"Yeah, you can do that all by yourself. Walking in those heels would do it, if nothing else," quipped Trinh.

"Hey, it's not nearly as bad as it was before!"

Guzma, lurking in the corner of the room with a thermos in one hand, snickered. He was sitting with Lillie, Caroline, and Moon's mother— a strange combination, but an entertaining one. It was a little scary how well Guzma and Kapua seemed to be getting along.

"What lip do you think?" Plumeria asked Trinh. "I know what looks good on me, but you have about the same skin color as Moon."

"Well, since it's for Battlers International, you should go full dramatic," said Trinh. "So like, dark red. Wine red."

"Okay, yeah, that's sexy."

"Gladion's gonna bust a nut when the issue comes out," predicted Guzma.

"Oh my god, you are sitting right next to my mother!"

Kapua held out one hand, and Guzma blinked in surprise before slapping it in a high-five. Molly, Rogelio, and Caroline all cracked up.

"I've decided that all of you actually hate me and want me to perish from embarrassment," Moon informed them.

"I'm with Moon on this one," said Lillie. "I'd rather not hear any predictions about my brother's reaction to this photoshoot, thank you very much."

Moon flushed. Plumeria frowned at her, picking up a worn paper fan and handing it to her. She snapped it open and made an attempt to cool down her face, so the makeup wouldn't melt away. "He's gonna know about it beforehand anyway," she muttered.

"And why's that?"

"I'm video-calling him later, it's his birthday—"

"You've got to keep the outfit on!" yelled Molly. "That's his birthday present!"

"I am going to murder you and they will never find the body!"

"You can try, but I can run in my designer shoes and you can't!"

"Oh, fuck you!"

"You are neither available nor my type, thanks!"

* * * * *

"Happy birthday!"

Gladion's answering smile was— god, it was therapeutic. His eyes crinkled like Lillie's did, and the dimples made an appearance. "Thanks, sunshine."

It seemed to be a day for blushing. Moon resisted the urge to cover her face and merely adjusted her hold on Rotom so that the camera wouldn't show the new outfit. She was still wearing the outfit from the photoshoot, but that was because her mother had taken all of her other clothes home when she and Lillie left. Moon hadn't gone with them, because she had some medical paperwork to do with Amelia— they were finally transferring Moon's status as Wicke's "next of kin," and the potential power of medical attorney implied by that status, over to Gladion. Apparently he had filled out the beginning of a form for it and sent it to Wicke the day after he'd first video-called Moon, but she hadn't gotten around to taking care of it until now. (It was something that Molly had insisted on at the intervention, "because Moon's therapy needs to be about Moon and Ms. Wicke's therapy needs to be about Ms. Wicke, and Ms. Wicke's therapist shouldn't be able to report to Moon. Plus, out of the trio of Moon, Lillie, and Gladion, he is literally the most mentally stable right now, which is honestly not something I thought I would ever say.") Moon actually suspected that her mother had taken her change of clothes home on purpose, because Molly and Rogelio looked entirely too satisfied with themselves when she expressed frustration over being unable to find her clothes for it to be a mere coincidence.

"You're welcome," she answered. It was much later in the day where he was— probably close to ten or eleven, if she was remembering correctly— but he seemed very awake and cheerful. Gladion was a night owl, so that made sense. "How has your day been?"

The grin softened into something shy. "Really nice, I think?" One hand came up, scratching at the back of his neck. "It's, um— it's the nicest birthday I've had in a long time. Last year Lillie was still at the Paradise. Amelia couldn't get away that day but she had some things delivered to me under the August Green name. And I ran into Nanu a little too coincidentally and he treated me to noodles."

"Huh." A thought occurred to Moon. "Hey, so Hau said that Tapu Koko had had his eye on him forever. Like, at least three years. Do you think Tapu Bulu had an eye on you, and that Nanu knew about it?"

"Bulu did, but Nanu didn't," answered Gladion. "I was... probably seventeen and a half, when I joined Team Skull? I think I left home about eight months before that. I lived regularly with everyone at Plumeria's place for... um, over a year but not eighteen months. Because Null, at first, was absolutely not house-trained. It took me nearly that entire time to get her to trust me to a point where she would obey orders in battle, but once she got the idea and I could trust her to not actually kill her opponent or their Trainer, we were— practically unstoppable."

There was something slightly misty in his eyes, but his expression was fond. "I honestly hadn't been training properly with her for very long before we met you. I'd sort of been forced to pick up Imp because he's an annoying little shit. Love him dearly, but he's a shit. And catching him set her back like, a good three or four months because she absolutely hated the idea of sharing me. But Imp, through a tried-and-true combination of being endearingly persistent and not giving a fuck, eventually made friends properly. And Rey was another month of screeching and broken furniture and ripping my clothes and chewing on my hair, but I think I was crying with relief the entire time because even in her tantrums, Null wasn't breaking my skin anymore except by accident. She understood. And it was just the three of them for a while, until I mentioned to Amelia that I was thinking of adding a fourth teammate a few months back, and not a week later she said she wanted to send me a Porygon through the mail because, and I quote, Marcus special-ordered one from Silph Co. and has been bragging insufferably about it, so if you're still thinking about a fourth teammate would you consider raising a Porygon and doing a better job than him?"

Moon laughed. "Well, you succeeded."

"I mean, there are days I'm not too sure of that. Nox is great, but he's also... well, for an artificial intelligence of sorts, he's kind of dumb." He grinned, and Moon did her best not to squeal at the sudden dimples. "But he's very strong, probably stronger than he should be for what he is. I actually have a theory that he's— well, not a glitch exactly, but that he wasn't quite created to standard Silph Co. guidelines. Specifically, I think he's got a higher percentage of Electric-typing than most Porygon. I would have to do a biopsy and have it analyzed at Aether to be sure, but that's the theory I'm running with."

"Do you think that's why he's not that bright?" wondered Moon. "Because he's... uh, sparkier?"

Gladion snorted. "Maybe. At any rate, he's more brawn than brains, but he's happy and that's how I prefer it." He paused. "I went on a whole tangent there. What were we even talking about?"

"Um— honestly, I don't remember," admitted Moon. "I keep getting distracted when you smile. It was something about Tapu Bulu, though."

"Oh, right, you were asking if he knew it was me. Yeah, he knew like, the second I stepped onto Ula'ula Island for the first time, but he told me that if he'd approached me right away that I would have run, and he was probably right. And he didn't mention anything to Nanu because Nanu absolutely would have approached me, because he's wanted to be done for years. But it doesn't matter now." He cleared his throat. "So, um— how have you been?"

Moon hesitated, because there was a part of her that did not want to be the reason his smile faded away. But she knew that Gladion would not want to be coddled, would want to know.

"Honestly," she said quietly. "Since the Rainbow Rocket stuff has gone on, I... haven't been doing that great. I've been trying not to say anything to you, because I want you to have a great time in Kanto without having to worry about me. But it got to a point where, um— Lillie gathered a bunch of people and arranged for an intervention."

One eyebrow rose. "Oh."

"It was also for Wicke," clarified Moon. "You know how she gets, constantly putting herself in the last-priority slot."

"Is that what you were doing?" His voice was soft.

"Kind of? But also I've been, um— having nightmares, mostly. Less now than before. I usually wake up once a night, but I think that first night I woke up like, four times. Once I think it was seven or eight. And like—logically, I know it's not my fault or anything, but Wicke was super hurt and the Skulls were held hostage and it's like— I'm the Champion. I shouldn't let things like that happen."

"To be fair, you'd only been the Champion for a day and a half. Give it some time, you'll get better at it."

Moon blinked at him. "Weirdly enough, that's among the more comforting things I've heard on this subject in the entire month. Nebby said something similar the day of, but like... still." She cleared her throat. "And, um. Lillie made both Wicke and I make appointments. With a psychiatrist. And then we're going to be referred for therapy, I think."

For a few moments, she couldn't read the look in his eyes; but then he let out a heavy breath, closing his eyes. "Finally," he muttered. "Thank Arceus, it's about goddamn time."

"Wow," said Moon, amused. "Tell me how you really feel."

"Grateful, relieved and incredibly proud of you."

The words fell easily from his lips, and Moon stared at him as her pulse rocketed skyward. "Um."

"Moon," he said softly, "I get it, I do. It's so hard to want to talk about things. It's so hard to admit that— that you might have a problem. That it might be a serious problem. That it might even be fucking up your ability to just exist. But I know from experience that the more you talk about it, the easier it is to say. When you say something out loud, that— that makes it real. You know that thing where people sometimes ask, if a tree falls in a forest and nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound?"

"I've— heard that before, yes." Her voice was oddly hoarse.

"Well, it doesn't matter if nobody is there to hear the tree. It still hit the ground. There was a dispersement of force, which made a vibration. There were probably some nearby Pokémon who were startled and ran away. If there was a Combee hive or a Durant nest inside the tree, it might have been damaged or even destroyed, particularly if the Vespiquen or the queen Durant was killed. Even if there was not a single human present for the falling of the tree, it still made an impact on the world around it."

Moon's eyes stung, and she blinked rapidly. "Gladion," she began, but wasn't sure what else to say.

"Therapy is a huge step, Moon. It's hard and sometimes it's really painful because it makes me think about things I wish I didn't have to think about. But I have the tools to look at those things differently now. You're going to— you're going to go into a forest and you're going to chop the damn tree down, and you're going to watch what happens when it hits the ground. Some of it might be bad at first, but some of it will be good. And you'll be making sounds. Letting them out from your head. Setting them free."

"I thought you would be angrier that I let it get to this point."

Gladion blinked at her for a few seconds. "Look, I haven't talked about this very much because it's hard to say, but like— Plumeria forced me to go to a doctor and start on antidepressants after I stupidly mixed some narcotics with alcohol and drank it," he said bluntly. "It wasn't technically an attempted suicide, because I didn't do it with the intention of dying; I just wanted to forget that I lived in hell for a minute. But I woke up in the Poni Island hospital and I remember that my first thought was disappointment. I have since thoroughly unpacked that emotional response in therapy and I'm doing better now, but it was still a terrifying experience. Please trust me when I say that it would be hypocritical of me to be angry with you when at least you didn't wake up in a hospital after a suicide attempt, or worse, didn't wake up at all. I'm just really fucking relieved it didn't come to that."

Moon let out a shaky breath. "Yeah, okay, that's fair," she mumbled. "It was honestly— surreal. And I was so mad at first, when I walked in and Wicke was already in the room, and then I saw my parents and Uncle Kai and Aunt Lani, and they even had Red and Blue on a Skypther call."

"Huh. They didn't mention it to me. When was this?"

"About five days ago."

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense. I was doing a bike tour on the cycling road."

"And punching homophobic assholes," added Moon, with a grin.

"And punching homophobic assholes."

"But like— I realized they wouldn't have Red and Blue on a call for an intervention that was for Wicke, and then it hit me and I was just—" Moon shuddered. "I'm really not proud of myself. I was literally seeing red. I was just running my mouth off at everyone and feeling so stupid and angry and betrayed. I said some really awful shit to Lillie, honestly— I'll spare you the details but you can ask her, and I have happily been doing a lot of groveling for it. Hau literally gave me a shovel talk after the fact, like he said if I said anything that shitty to her ever again he would sic Plumeria on me, which for him is like, apocalyptic rage levels. He was pissed. And he actually had Tapu Koko come in the room and— um, tell me some stuff. Which I'm not supposed to talk about with anyone else, but I do plan on telling you anyway and I will tell you in person when you get back."

"Not the kind of thing you mention on the phone?"

"Yeah, no. Not at all. But then, uh— then they all went around the room and told me that like. That they were worried about me because they love me, and stuff. And Lillie literally made me cry by saying I'm her best friend, which is like— one hundred percent true, and also reciprocated. Hau's also my best friend, but he's also family. Lillie is my best non-family friend. And that was like, an entire epiphany on its own because I didn't really have friends my age growing up."

Gladion nodded. "I'm grateful to you for that, too," he said quietly. "For giving her that. It's not something I've been able to experience."

Moon stared at him. "I think Hau would honestly be offended if he heard you say that."

His eyebrows rose, and he blinked for a few moments; but then pink rushed to his cheeks. "I-I mean, I didn't want to, uh, presume. Or anything. I know I don't act very— open, with him. But his friendship does mean a lot to me."

"You should tell him that," suggested Moon. "Because he will legit be super touched by it."

"Uh— I'll try that. I'll do it. Thanks." He shuffled in place. "Do you— uh, mind if we change the topic right now? It's easier to talk about emotional things now than it used to be but this whole conversation has been like, very emotional."

"That's fine, and I was kind of wondering how to get onto something lighter anyway," agreed Moon. "I just wanted to clear the air and be honest with you about feeling shitty, and I've done that."

"That you have, and I appreciate it. and I'm glad you're feeling better. So— have any memorable battles lately?"

"Okay, actually, yes. So this girl walks into the League and starts right off with Kahili, which is kind of a weird flex. Most challengers tend to try Olivia or Acerola first. Caroline says it's probably an unconsciously sexist thing, like Molayne's a dude and Kahili is just straight-up scary, but Olivia is like, a lady, and Acerola's really young. So most people perceive them as being weaker. I went for Olivia first because I wanted her to get it over with so she could just fucking sit down for a minute. But anyway, this girl comes in, and I'm watching her over the cams as I have nothing better to do. She's going for Kahili, and Kahili's got a Mandibuzz which made pretty short work of like, three of her teammates, until she pulls out a Jynx and then proceeds to decimate the rest of Kahili's team. Honestly that was a good play, but I was wondering why the fuck she hadn't brought it out the very second the Hawlucha was no longer a factor. So then, fights Olivia, she's doing great. She's got an Alakazam, which is already impressive. They're powerful and Abra aren't like rare or anything, but they aren't common, either. It's a time commitment to find one that's willing to join you. And then she's got an Oranguru, and then a Bruxish, and by now I've realized she's a Psychic-type specialist."

"Clearly," said Gladion, but his mouth was twitching.

"Next she goes for Acerola and that is a bold choice, considering her specialty. So then I'm pretty surprised to see that one of the ones she hadn't brought out during Kahili's battle is a Malamar, and that thing— it's clearly her ace and it's a goddamn beast, it just wipes the entire fucking floor with Acerola's team. Boom. They're done, they're gone."

"That's impressive."

"I thought so, too," agreed Moon. "She heals up and fights Molayne next. Pretty average battle, honestly. Bisharp might have been an issue if she didn't have a Raichu with Focus Blast, but she did. I was also wondering why she didn't use the Raichu during the battle with Kahili, but it wasn't super important so I just brushed it aside. And before that, Olivia didn't give her much trouble either. Armaldo, again, might have been an issue, but Bruxish is a lot faster."

"That's what I thought of the second you said Armaldo."

"A shared brain cell! I love that for us." Moon beamed at him and was gratified when he went slightly pink. "But yeah, that means she's done with the Elite Four and that means she's gonna fight me. She looks like she knows her shit, I'm looking forward to it, my team is ready, it's exciting."

"Understandable."

"This is all completely ruined the fucking second she walks in and announces, I'm challenging you for the title."

Gladion winced. "Ooh."

"Title challengers are fine, I don't mind them at all even if the paperwork would be fucking tedious. But firstly, the Alolan League actually has a by-law about title challenges, where you have to wait at least a month to title-challenge a new Champion. Professor Kukui insisted on it, because what Nate, Rosa, and Hugh are doing works for them but it's also stressful for their League to deal with, so— a month for each champion, assuming they can defend their first challenge. The month was just barely up when she walked in. Like, she had it timed down to the second I'm pretty sure."

"That seems... presumptuous."

Moon nodded emphatically. "So we fight," she told Gladion. "My team, versus Alakazam, Oranguru, Bruxish, Jynx, Raichu, and Malamar. She's got a good lineup, relatively solid type coverage. Oranguru and Malamar can deal with Ghost-types. Alakazam and Raichu are both fast and know Focus Blast for Dark-types." She paused for effect. "And then, I wiped out four of her teammates with Macbeth and the other two with Kate. Macbeth didn't faint or anything, I just remembered I was on television and Kahili told me that one-shotting an person's entire team with a single teammate is firstly rude, and secondly really boring for the audience."

Gladion burst out laughing, choked on air and coughed violently for a few seconds before sputtering, "It's not fucking rude, what is she on?"

"Well, it's rude for us," clarified Moon. "We're the Alolan League and our job is to battle and test Trainers, but also to entertain. This is true of every League that publicizes their challenge matches. I know in some places they don't do that. And I get what you mean by it not actually being rude... but at the same time, one-shotting a person's entire team with one Pokémon is sort of saying, I'm not even bothering to test you by offering different challenges for you to face, I'm just rubbing it in that I'm better. Which to be fair, is something that I generally have done when I've been travelling. Not like, on purpose or anything, but I still did it." She sighed. "So yeah, the girl just started crying. On what essentially amounts to national television. And oh my god I felt so bad, but like... it was way too easy to beat her. She definitely wasn't ready to challenge me for the title..."

* * * * *

Chapter Text

* * * * *

"Don't you feel a little bad for her?" Lillie asked Kapua, but she kept her eyes on Moon.

"I might if she weren't secretly enjoying the teasing," said Kapua blandly, taking a sip from her thermos.

Lillie considered this, still studying her friend. Plumeria was brushing a last layer of glimmering golden powder over Moon's cheekbones; then Trinh held up a spray bottle.

"Close your eyes for setting spray."

Moon closed her eyes. "What's setting spray?"

"How the fuck do you not know what setting spray is?" wondered Trinh, misting the contents of the bottle over Moon's face. Uilani snickered, brandishing a hair-straightener.

"It keeps makeup from coming off," replied Plumeria. "It's nice for everyday, but it's especially necessary for performance or photography because you're usually under bright lighting, which is hot enough to make you sweat it off."

"Oh."

"Okay, stand up and turn your face from side to side."

Moon stood and obediently turned her face as Plumeria inspected her handiwork.

"Okay, that will do."

"That'll do, pig, that'll do," murmured Guzma under his breath. Lillie frowned, slightly offended, but Kapua merely snickered.

"If... it's not an insult, it's probably a reference?" she ventured meekly, quoting the advice Hau had given her about pop culture.

"It's from a movie called Babe," said Caroline absently. "It's about a Tepig that learns to herd Wooloo and competes with herding-trained Stoutland and Boltund. Really cute movie."

Guzma squinted at Lillie. "Some of the kids made Gladion sit down and watch a bunch of flicks when he first showed up. Do you wanna do something like that?"

Lillie was honestly touched by the thought. "Thank you for the offer, but I've watched quite a few movies with Moon and Hau so I think I'm okay."

The interview was conducted first, sitting in the conference room. The photographer, Nancy, did take a few pictures while Moon and the journalist, Curtis, were seated on two tall stools at one end of the room, but mostly waited and listened. Curtis had a voice recorder, so there was no writing or delay and the interview progressed more like a conversation.

Plumeria didn't bother pulling a chair over to their group; she just sat right down on Guzma's lap. One of his arms curled around her waist almost automatically. Lillie had a fleeting curiosity about what Hau would do in that situation with her, but quickly dismissed it. Trinh and Uilani had left, not really invested in any other part of the interview; but Molly and Rogelio were sitting with Caroline, who was listening intently to Moon and Curtis and nodding along with Moon's answers. Kahili, who had become increasingly taciturn throughout the hair-and-makeup process, remained as silent as ever; but she didn't seem upset by anything Moon was saying.

"We haven't really met, have we?" said Kapua to Plumeria.

"We saw you here after Moon came back from Ultra Space, but that's it," answered Plumeria, leaning forward and offering one hand to shake. "This is Guzma Mahelona, and I'm Plumeria Sauvageot. Nice to meet you." The Kalosian surname, which Lillie hadn't known before, rolled easily off her tongue.

"Kapua Hawkins." Kapua shook her hand. "So, you're the leaders of Team Skull?"

Guzma's face went slightly pinched, but Plumeria merely nodded. "That's us."

"It must be a lot of work, taking care of so many kids. I had my hands full with just the one, so I don't think I could handle a hundred."

Plumeria grinned. "Well, it helps that we didn't have to deal with them as toddlers, and most of them are late teens so they've usually gotten over acting bratty."

"Mine's eighteen and she's still a brat half the time," said Kapua dryly. Guzma had just taken a sip from his thermos but at this he choked and spat it out, turning his head to the side so it landed on the ground. Plumeria looked at him for a few moments, then patted his head and got up, walking over to a table that contained a random assortment of items and retrieving a plastic can of cleaning wipes.

"Thanks," muttered Guzma, red in the face.

"Sure. Hey, Mrs. Hawkins, do you know any Kalosian?"

"I know a few words. Moon took a year of it in high school, but she hasn't retained much. Why?"

"I was thinking that one of the things you generally have in common with your daughter is sang-froid."

"Cold blood?" said Lillie, with a frown. "I wouldn't call Moon cold-blooded."

"It's an idiom," explained Plumeria. "It does literally translate to 'cold blood,' but sang-froid also means composure under trying circumstances. I would argue that staging a musical theater production to rescue most of Team Skull is a pretty impressive display of sang-froid."

Guzma snorted. "And so is high-fiving the guy who makes a dirty joke about your daughter's boyfriend."

"Surprisingly," said Kapua, "I am actually the more uptight parent. Moon truly gets her sang-froid from Yoshiro. I've just gotten very good at staying relaxed. And as parents, we've tried to be very open about discussing sex. Many people treat it like this be-all, end-all dynamic in a relationship, but it's just a biological function— albeit a very important one— and there are plenty of funny things that can happen with it. We don't exclusively make dirty jokes, but neither do we avoid them if the opportunity—" Her mouth twitched. "—uh, rises."

Lillie felt herself go pink, but Guzma and Plumeria both snickered. "You're pretty cool, Mrs. Hawkins," said Guzma. "Molly and Rog both said you were, but it's good to hear anyway."

"They're great kids," said Kapua, with a fond glance at Molly and Rogelio. "But I think out of all of my daughter's friends, Lillie is still my favorite."

She hadn't even gotten over blushing from the earlier dirty joke before she was now suddenly attacked by more embarrassment, with a touch of gratitude. "I— um, thank you."

"You're welcome. And I should really thank Amelia for that, too."

Amelia had been doing something on her tablet, but at this her gaze flicked over and she offered a brief smile. "Any of Lillie's good personality traits must be credited to Lillie alone, I'm afraid."

"That's really not true, Amelia," said Lillie, shaking her head. "Some things really have to be taught, and I certainly wasn't going to learn them from Lusamine. I wouldn't ever have learned to be generous or patient from her. I might have learned a façade of good manners or kindness, but those things were only ever tools she used to manipulate us. With you I learned them for real."

Amelia still looked so strange, with only a centimeter or so of dark hair covering the entirety of her head, and a new pair of glasses— lenses rimmed in gold wire, rather than the thick pink frames that Faba had destroyed. Within those glasses, green eyes widened as they gazed at Lillie.

"Thank you," she said, after a few moments. "That— it means a lot to hear, Lillie." Her voice was still too-quiet and raspy, another change that had taken some getting used to.

"Could I get you some tea or something, Amelia?" asked Kapua.

Amelia sighed. "I probably should have something like that," she admitted. "My physicians have encouraged me to take willowbark tea, ostensibly for swelling and any abrasion; and to add plenty of honey, which has healing and preservative properties. The only problem is, I loathe most teas, including willowbark, with every fiber of my being. I would much prefer something else."

"Coffee?" suggested Lillie. "It's warm like tea."

"Hm, that may be for the best. I was also advised to avoid soda, which is my preferred caffeine intake. Particularly acidic or high-sugar sodas, and Lanakila Dew is both of those."

"I'll get you a thermos," volunteered Lillie, half out of her seat.

Amelia shook her head. "I'll text the kitchens and have them bring some for everyone. I should have done that earlier anyway, but it must have slipped my mind." She typed something on the tablet, concluding with a decisive tap, before turning the screen off and sliding the tablet into the holster on her waist. She smiled wanly at Lillie. "More things seem to be slipping my mind these days, I'm afraid."

Lillie looked at her for a few moments, then rose from her chair and bent to put her arms around Amelia's shoulders. "It's okay," she said quietly. "It's not forever."

Nobody else would have noticed unless they were this close, but she felt Amelia inhale, then exhale deeply. "Thank you," she murmured.

"You're welcome."

Kapua and Plumeria both smiled approvingly at Lillie when she sat down. Guzma was staring off into space with a slight frown.

The coffee was delivered about fifteen minutes thereafter, but much to Lillie's surprise it was not brought by the kitchen staff or even one of the Team Skull kids, who generally didn't mind running little errands like this. A cart that Lillie had never seen before, with what seemed to be a tank of water attached to it and pipes running up the sides, was pushed into the room first by Molayne, of all people; and on his heels was Colress, who was tapping at the device on his wrist with a slight frown on his face.

Lillie couldn't quite help the fear that washed through her at the sight of Colress.

"I'm pretty sure neither of you are on the mansion kitchen staff," said Plumeria dryly.

"No, but I finished with what I was doing and happened to be in the area, so I volunteered to bring it over."

Kahili was staring at Molayne, a slight frown on her face. "What were you doing here?"

"Gladion contracted me to work on some IT security stuff after all the Rainbow Rocket shenanigans," was the cheerful reply. "I've been working on it with Dr. Colress in my free time."

"And what the fuck is that?" said Guzma, pointing at the cart.

"Colress Machine, number three hundred eighty-one," said Colress absently, still tapping at his tablet. "A mobile mass caffeination dispenser."

"Big coffeepot on wheels," translated Molayne. "Kitchens were kind of dubious, but we tested it out on some of the Skulls and they said it tastes great."

"You gave them coffee?" said Plumeria, her eyes narrowing.

"I gave Raquel, Trinh, and Uilani coffee— all of whom are over eighteen and not terribly likely to do anything stupid on a caffeination high."

Plumeria relaxed. "As long as it wasn't Ki-moon. He turns into a fucking Bunnelby and bounces off the walls when he has caffeine."

"Not Jeremiah?" said Lillie, curious.

"No, because caffeine can actually be helpful for people with ADHD. Helps them focus."

"I didn't know he had ADHD."

"He didn't, either," said Guzma dryly. "Not 'til Plumes brought the kids here and Ms. Wicke had everyone willing make an appointment with Aether psychiatrists. The one who met Jer noticed a bunch of symptoms in about thirty seconds so he decided to do a formal evaluation."

"It's made a huge difference," said Plumeria, more to Amelia than anybody else, "as he's no longer as skittish as a feral Torracat. So thanks for that."

Lillie walked over to the... mobile mass caffeination dispenser? Colress Machine three hundred eighty-one? Big coffeepot on wheels? Honestly, she wasn't sure what to call it. There were little creamer cups and sugar packets in small ceramic bins on top of the cart, and a paper cup dispenser with the thick, heat-conserving cups stacked nearby it. Several people had already tried it out and she'd watched them to figure out how it worked, so she took a cup and tried to remember how Wicke took her coffee, when she had coffee at all.

"Two sugar, one creamer," said Colress, without looking up.

Lillie flinched, nearly dropping the empty cup. By the way Colress stilled momentarily, he had noticed. "What?"

"For Ms. Wicke. She takes two sugar and one creamer, if she must have coffee."

"How do you know?"

At this Colress looked up, yellow eyes meeting hers. "I observed," he said politely. "I always do. You're uncomfortable with my presence. I can leave, if that's what you would prefer."

"Well, it's your machine," said Lillie, indicating the cart. "So you're probably gathering data on how it works?"

"I am, but it is possible to monitor from elsewhere."

Lillie didn't answer right away. Colress offered a brief nod, then turned halfway toward the door.

"Wait," she said automatically. "I didn't— really, you don't have to go."

"I really do not wish to distress you further," he said gently. "I've done enough of that, don't you think?"

Lillie swallowed. "If I can get used to Captain Phyco and Lieutenant Soliera, I can get used to you."

"If that is what you would like."

"It wasn't on purpose," she said, unable to maintain eye contact. She poured some of the coffee into the cup, then set it down on top of the cart so she could use both hands to open a creamer. "That's what Moon said. It wasn't on purpose, that you told Faba that hurting Ne— Cosmog would, um, catalyze the natural evolution process."

"It was not on purpose, but it was still done carelessly and I regret it."

His voice was very soft. Normally, Lillie could and would hold a grudge— and she had held a grudge against Colress for a fairly long time— but it was easier to see now that he was not the monster she had thought him.

"I have endeavored to make up for it how I could," he continued. "In the time after President Mohn went to Ultra Space, but before Rainbow Rocket attacked and Faba was arrested by Interpol, I worked with Dr. Faba in R&D. It was what I had been doing before, though more of my work was with Captain Phyco and Lieutenant Soliera. But after President Mohn left, I assisted Ms. Wicke in distracting and misleading Dr. Faba, so that he would have little opportunity to get up to mischief."

"Not that it stopped him."

"Yes, well— I wasn't about to visit him in his personal quarters and demand to see his communications."

"I wasn't blaming you," Lillie said quickly, because he had sounded slightly defensive. "I know he's— um, slippery."

A wry smile made its way onto his face. "I see. But I think you may have missed the chance to do what you intended to do."

"What do you mean?"

He nodded at something behind her, and Lillie turned to see Molayne holding a cup of coffee out to Amelia. She murmured something and accepted the cup. Molayne had a cup of his own, and he took Lillie's empty seat next to her and settled down, clearly in a chattery mood.

"Did he make it correctly?"

"He asked me if I knew how she took it, and I told him."

"Why?"

"Coffee, and I suppose tea and cocoa and all hot drinks that may be served to a variety of preferences, is an interesting interpersonal phenomenon."

Lillie blinked at him. "I think I'm more confused than I was before."

"Some of the most lucrative businesses in the world are related to coffee. Most people learn both their own preferences and those of others, because it enables them to make a simple gift to curry good will or favor. Despite what pop culture may wish us to believe, there isn't any proven link about how one's coffee preferences may influence one's personality— but knowing someone's preference can still be useful." Humor flickered in his eyes. "For instance, at any meeting at which Ms. Wicke, Dr. Faba, and myself were all present, I generally made a point of volunteering to bring coffee. This has an effect of causing powerful people to underestimate you. If you are willing to do something so menial, they often dismiss you as being kind-hearted or foolish. I brought coffee for the sole reason of always giving Ms. Wicke the coffee she preferred, while purposefully bringing an incorrectly made one to Dr. Faba. He couldn't very well yell at me about it; after all, bringing him coffee wasn't my job. It was just a favor."

"That's so petty! I love it." Lillie began giggling despite herself, and his lips curled up into a miniscule smile.

"Sadly, he never caught on that I was doing it on purpose. Ms. Wicke did, though."

His gaze drifted back beyond Lillie, to where Molayne still seemed to be talking Amelia's ear off; but she didn't seem to object to this— and more importantly, in Lillie's opinion, she was leaning back, eyes closed, with the ever-present tablet tucked into the holster on her belt.

"If he can get her to take a nap or something, I'd be incredibly grateful," muttered Lillie.

"Well, she has had a cup of coffee, but he may have given her the decaffeinated variety."

Lillie turned back to raise an eyebrow at Colress. "You have a decaf option on this cart? Isn't the purpose of it for caffeination?"

"That's the idea, but I am under the impression that Mr. Parker is of your opinion regarding Ms. Wicke's need to take a nap."

"So he's— talking at her?"

"It's working, isn't it?" said Colress reasonably.

He had a point. Colress usually did. Lillie found herself studying him, unsure what to make of this man who made sly jokes, who was so petty he brought Faba the wrong coffee on purpose, who used his not inconsiderable genius to create machines that tracked Pokémon, opened wormholes, and sensed Z-Crystal locations— and also an invisibility button and a big coffeepot on wheels.

"What was it you did, in Unova?"

There was a long pause.

"I know you do not trust me," said Colress steadily, his eyes still on Amelia and Molayne, "and you believe my telling you would prove I am trustworthy. If I actually told you, you would believe the opposite." He paused. "And the one person who must never know what I did, above all else, is your brother."

"Gladion? Why?"

The yellow eyes fixed upon her finally. "Answering that is answering the question you asked originally. I will not tell you why."

"Will you tell me later?"

"Why is it you want to know?" he countered.

Lillie hesitated. "Faba isn't— I don't think he can be saved," she said finally. "He's just rotten, honestly. That's probably my mother's fault. And my mother herself... I don't know. I think she doesn't understand how to have relationships. How to love people. I don't think she ever will. But Captain Phyco and Soliera... they, um. I guess they technically condoned what happened to Ne— Cosmog, but they regretted it. They still regret it."

He was still watching her, not speaking. Lillie took a deep breath. "I guess I want to understand," she said finally. "How much you... regret it."

For a while, he didn't say anything at all, his eyes still searching hers with unreadable intent. "Ghetsis was different," he murmured finally. "But he also did not understand... how to love people. And his son—" His mouth tightened closed for a few moments. "A person who loved him, though that love was undeserved and unreturned, suffered for it."

Lillie remembered Ghetsis— remembered Cofagrigus, mostly. Remembered being wrapped in cold, creeping smoke-tendrils that she could not break. Remembered the crazed expression in the single scarlet eye. Remembered the pain in her finger and the way time crawled to a halt as the bone snapped.

"I chose, back then, to ignore it. I chose to remain silent. And I have regretted it ever since. I very nearly made that same mistake with you, but I was not too late. Once I understood, I went to Ms. Wicke, and she promised to ask you to leave."

Lillie stared at him in surprise. It was true that originally... it had been Amelia's idea for her to leave Aether Paradise with Nebby. Once it had been suggested she had seized on the idea desperately, adopting it until it felt like her own. An idea she hadn't known she had. Then, of course, Nebby had "yeeted" (Hau's term, not hers) them out of Aether Paradise before they could complete the escape the way Amelia had intended.

"And then you were gone. I did not have the chance to... apologize, before you left. So I understand why you have had such difficulty with me. To you, I must seem almost a greater monster. Someone who sees a child suffering and does nothing to stop it. But I swear to you I am not. I swear to you that I am no longer the man who ignores it."

His voice was quiet and his expression was calm, but Lillie could tell he meant every word.

* * * * *

Much to Lillie's surprise, Colress and Molayne stayed with the group of people watching and supporting Moon— though supporting might have been a strong word, for some of those present.

Once the interview was concluded, they went outside in the bright afternoon sunlight to get some shots of Moon with the ocean in the background. The photographer, Nancy, initially seemed rather shy; but Lillie was impressed with how dedicated she was to her craft. She would lie down on the ground or step onto one of the little stone walls to get the best angle— more often the latter, because she was quite short. At one point, Lillie heard her say, "Curtis, could you—" and Curtis laughed quietly, before crouching in front of her; after some maneuvering, he straightened, with Nancy sitting on his shoulders, and she took some pictures from much higher.

Kahili, Kapua, and Amelia watched with similarly polite expressions— the latter two with more fondness than the former, and Amelia periodically dozing off wherever she sat. Colress wasn't paying attention to the photoshoot, instead fiddling with what he continued to insist was called "Colress Machine three hundred eighty-one" and what Molayne claimed was called "Colress's Cool-ass Coffee Cart." Molayne himself alternated between arguing with Colress about the machine, and joining Molly, Rogelio, Guzma, and Plumeria in heckling Moon from the sidelines.

Moon was clearly not entirely sure what she was meant to be doing during a photoshoot, and tended to just stand awkwardly until Nancy took pity on her and told her what she wanted her to do with her hands or face or legs. Lillie had been made to pose for enough pictures, back before her father had died, that she understood the mechanics of it. Long neck, smile with your eyes as well as your mouth, hands at your sides. But as she watched Nancy direct Moon, she could see what the photographer wanted almost before she said it out loud.

Unfortunately, Moon's awkwardness was so obvious that Molly and Rogelio were laughing at her— but also clearly including her in the joke, which Lillie supposed made it a little better.

"One hand on your face— not covering anything," Nancy quickly clarified. "On one cheek. Then turn that cheek more toward me."

"I would pay a lot of fucking money to see a picture in BI of Moon straight-up face-palming," said Molly fervently. "Holy shit, that would be so funny."

"Honestly, with the bullshit she's had to deal with, it would be appropriate," mused Rogelio. Caroline, sitting with them but not participating in the heckling, snorted. So did Moon, which meant that at least three of Nancy's rapid-fire shots were probably ruined by extra-wide nostrils and the clear containment of laughter. Curtis sighed, but he also looked amused. Nancy didn't seem to mind at all.

"Gladion wouldn't like it, though," said Guzma lazily, tipping his face up towards the sun. "He'd want to see her face and all the paint."

"He likes her without it, too," pointed out Plumeria. "Now, if it were the other way around and Gladion were having his picture taken— then the face-palm would be a must. Partly because that's just Gladion's personality, and partly because Moon's got a thing about his hands—"

"And where the fuck did you hear that?" demanded Moon, turning to glare at them. Nancy's eyebrows rose but she pressed and held the camera button, and Lillie heard a rapidfire click-click-click-click-click. It was understandable. Moon tended to look kind of... intense, when she was annoyed.

"We annoyed him into admitting it," said Rogelio shamelessly. "We were asking him if you knew how much he's got a thing for your legs—"

"Which is honestly a euphemism for your ass, let's be real here—"

"No, he actually does like her legs," said Lillie, without thinking about it.

Plumeria grinned, holding out one fist. Lillie hesitated, glancing at Moon, but she just rolled her eyes with a slight smile on her face so she returned the fist-bump.

"And he said you did know, and then we teased him about whether you reciprocated until he finally said I don't know if she likes my legs or not, Arceus fucking hell, all I know is she likes my hands and my smile now will you shut the fuck up."

"Well, he's not wrong," sighed Moon.

"All right, one hand on your hip, let the other fall flat at your side," ordered Nancy. "Lean a little into that side as well— no, the other side. Look at me, raise your chin. First without smiling— good. Now smile, closed mouth."

Molly wolf-whistled, which made Moon twitch with suppressed laughter; nobody else bothered to suppress it. "Damn, Moon, looking like a snack!"

Lillie choked on air, but Moon merely rolled her eyes and snickered.

Eventually Nancy decided they had enough outside, and wanted some indoors. A few were taken in the mansion library, which was very fitting given Moon's love of books. Nancy also seemed fascinated by Team Skull's various graffitis, and had taken some pictures with her cell phone of things she wanted to include in the photos with Moon. A mural drawn by Trinh— skeletons with flowers blooming from their eyes, in what was formerly the schoolroom— was one of them, and what seemed to be a poem, sprayed on the main foyer floor, was another. I don't think I can do this / I don't think I'm meant to fly / But every time I fall asleep / My dreams make me want to try. Nancy took shots of Moon's profile looking at the skeletons, and then she got up on a tall ladder to shoot from overhead with the poem at Moon's feet.

Caroline made a carefully worded suggestion about the destroyed ballroom and the shattered chandelier— obviously some things had been cleaned out, but there was still rubble from the ceiling and pillars all over the floor, with a heavy tarp to cover the massive hole until the roof could be restructured. Moon agreed to try it, admitting that it would make for some striking photography; but she only managed to stay in the room for about three minutes before her eyes began to get a little hazy and her hands began to shake, at which point Kapua insisted they had enough and gently guided her daughter from the room.

It took Moon about ten minutes to recover, sitting in a chair and breathing hard. "I'm sorry," said Caroline meekly. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"Don't be," rasped Moon, accepting a cup of water from Plumeria. Lillie had expected to see lipstick stain on the cup or a smear on Moon's mouth when she was done, but it made sense that Plumeria would know where to find makeup that wouldn't smear or run. Or perhaps that was the work of the setting spray. "Those are gonna be some fucking beautiful pictures. Nancy's terrific at what she does." The photographer went pink under the effusive praise, fiddling shyly with her camera.

But then, Amelia made a suggestion that caused general uproar among the peanut gallery. "One of the bedrooms upstairs has excellent natural lighting at this time of day," she said, with a familiar glint in her eyes. "It's not currently in use, and I know the owner of the room won't mind in the slightest."

Moon squinted suspiciously at her, but it was not until they stopped at Gladion's bedroom door that she turned to glare at Amelia. "Really?"

"It does have good lighting," said Amelia, tone nonchalant. "And it isn't recognizably his room. He doesn't keep personal belongings here anymore."

Moon sighed but turned to Nancy. "It's my boyfriend's room," she explained. "I mentioned him in the interview."

Nancy considered this for a few moments, but then a slight smile made its way onto her face. "This issue will probably air in a week or so, maybe less. Will he still be in Kanto by then?"

"Yeah."

"Is there any kind of message you want to send him? The photoshoot is meant to be glamorous, but it's also meant to be about you, and he's important to you."

Moon's eyebrows rose at the question, and after a few seconds she reached up to absently scratch at the back of her neck. "I mean... I wouldn't necessarily be opposed, but I don't want to, um— come off too strongly? If that makes any sense?"

"Just in the doorway, then," suggested Lillie, picturing it in her own mind. "Or against his bookcase. He has a lot of classics and science fiction, and you share fairly similar taste in literature."

"That's a good idea," agreed Nancy. "But we do already have pictures of you in a library, so I'm more in favor of the door."

After a few moments Moon nodded.

And a few minutes after that, Lillie felt her jaw drop as Nancy arranged Moon to stand with her back facing the camera, fingers clinging to the top of the door frame— which was only possible because of the stilettos— and look over her shoulder. A glance over at the others, crowded further down the hallway, showed them equally stunned. Colress's gaze was more curious than anything, but Kahili's eyes were wide with surprise. Caroline had gone rather pink, and Molly, incorrigibly, turned to Rogelio.

"Hey," she said, grinning. "Do she got the booty?"

Rogelio sighed. "Molly, that meme is like, a billion years old—"

"I said, do she got the booty?"

Another sigh. "She doooooooooooo." He drew out the word rather unenthusiastically.

"Oh my god, you suck."

"Looking good, Moon," called Plumeria. "Nice ass." Guzma snickered.

"It's just the skirt," said Moon, determinedly not looking at any of them.

"You keep telling yourself that."

"You're making me wish I'd worn my kimonos, you can't see anything under those."

"Should we have brought them?" wondered Kapua.

Moon considered this for a few moments. "No," she said finally. "It's not that I don't love them, because I do. But as... weird as this outfit is, it's, um, more representative of who I am now. I'm only a quarter Kantonian and it was all I ever knew before I came here." Her eyes went soft and oddly pained; and Nancy inhaled sharply and held the camera button down, click-click-click-click-click. "But I guess you could say that Alola, um— well, it hasn't changed me, so much as it's, um, revealed me. Revealed who I really am."

"I know the interview is over, but do you mind if I write that down?" Curtis asked, pulling out a notebook. "I like how you phrased that, it's giving me ideas about how to write the article."

"Sure, go ahead."

"I've got it!" said Nancy excitedly, clearly not paying attention to any of them. "I thought for sure the best one was going to be either in the library or by that chandelier, but this one is it. It's the cover." She turned the camera to show it to Moon, whose eyes went wide.

"Um," she said, staring at it for a few moments and swallowing. "Um. Holy shit. I..." Her voice trailed off slightly, and she blinked several times. "I look... nice. I look good."

"You look terrific," said Molly firmly.

"Though you did, in fact, look terrific without the makeup or the fancy clothes," pointed out Plumeria.

"Mm, that's a matter of opinion."

"Are you arguing with me?" Plumeria's tone was dangerous.

Moon blinked at her. "No," she said quickly, though it was clearly a lie. "Just, um. Some other people might. Argue with you."

"They won't be arguing with you after seeing this," said Rogelio firmly. "Moon, I am very gay, and I'm telling you that you're objectively hot. Accept it and move on."

Moon nodded, again not really meaning it— but her surprise at the picture Nancy had shown her lingered, and her eyes kept darting back to the camera as though she wanted to see it again. Lillie knew that Moon's hang-ups about how she looked were related to growing up mixed-race in a region of mostly fair-skinned people; and she knew that Moon liked how she looked but had never considered herself pretty. Lillie had never considered herself pretty either (apparently she was, but Lusamine had trained her into believing she wasn't), so she understood her friend's confusion.

But honestly, thought Lillie, Moon was attractive. Perhaps not attractive in the same way as— say, Plumeria, who was lean and muscular like a Liepard; or Olivia, slender but curvaceous. One almost didn't notice that Moon was attractive, until she smiled or laughed or played with her Pokémon. Until she was in battle, laser-focused on her team and her opponent. Until she was telling someone off for being unkind or disrespectful. Until she was reading, with the entire spectrum of emotions running across her face as the story absorbed her.

Moon's attractiveness laid in her honesty, in how she felt everything with her entire self. Moon's attractiveness was the passion that underlied everything she did. It was not easily calculated or explained. It just was.

* * * * *

Unchanged Forme, Revelation Dance: a travelogue and exclusive interview with Champion Moon Hawkins of the new Alolan Pokémon League

interview by C. Stiles

photography by N. Hale

Nancy and I left Unova late at night and arrived in Alola around the same time— losing some hours to the change of time zones. The airport in which we landed was small but well-kept, on the least developed of Alola's four main islands: Poni Island. And waiting to greet us were Hapu Kahonua, Kahuna of Poni Island; Kahili Hano, of the newly-formed Alolan League's Elite Four; and a representative of the Aether Foundation who introduced herself as Molly Langbroek. ("Technically, I don't represent Aether. But I'm an intern for Ms. Wicke, and she wasn't able to come so she asked me to make sure you arrived safely.")

Kahuna Hapu, Elite Four Hano, and Miss Langbroek welcomed us warmly, and helped carry our bags to a large passenger van. The driver was a young man who looked to be related to Kahuna Hapu (who stated, "I would have driven you myself, but I am neither qualified nor legally permitted to drive a vehicle, particularly one this large."), and as he drove I forced myself to remain awake to ask Kahuna, Elite Four, and intern what they thought of their new Champion.

The responses were interesting. Miss Langbroek answered immediately: "Moon is f****** brilliant. I don't know if I've ever met someone that smart in my life other than like, adults or whatever. She's amazing at battling and she's super brave and really, really strong." But then her face sobered. "And she's going through a lot, but she's slogging through. She never gives up. Moon is a fighter."

Elite Four Hano's answer was less effusive, but no less sincere: "Champion Hawkins is good at her job, and carries herself with confidence and pride." ("You should tell her that," quipped Miss Langbroek.)

But it was Kahuna Hapu's answer that I found most intriguing of all three. She was silent for some time, listening to both of the others answer my question; and then, when I asked if she had any further comment, she said only this: "I have known few people who are as unfailingly, unknowingly, and unassumingly kind as Moon Hawkins."

I had time to reflect on this as Nancy and I were taken to a small fishing-village and put on a gleaming white speedboat. An Aether Foundation employee drove the vehicle. Kahuna Hapu stayed with her island, and Elite Four Hano left for her own residence, but Miss Langbroek accompanied us as she currently resides at Aether Paradise. Both Nancy and I napped during the forty-five-minute journey to the artificial island, but woke when the boat was driven into a small, private dock below what appeared to be the backyard of a large private residence. Miss Langbroek showed us to guest rooms within the residence and bade us good night.

The next morning, we left our rooms and were surprised to be met by a boy of seventeen or so, who introduced himself but asked to be known only as "A." A led us through the mansion to a large room with benches, chairs, and tables to seat perhaps a hundred people. There were a few people present, mostly teenagers. Miss Langbroek was among them, and informed us that Amelia Wicke, acting president of the Aether Foundation, would be unavailable for several hours in order to deal with, in Miss Langbroek's words, "the f****** fashion disaster that is Moon Hawkins." She also stated that she would be unavailable for the same reason, and that if we needed anything we should ask A for assistance.

Through careful questioning of A, we learned that he, like Miss Langbroek, was a friend of Moon Hawkins— and we learned this long before he was probably willing to admit to it, because of his protective instinct to assume our questions were invasive. Our instinct was of course to deny this, but an explanation of some extenuating circumstances— which sadly cannot be repeated here, else the article will be redacted by the International Police— soon made it clear that he was quite correct.

Suffice it to say: Moon Hawkins is truly, as Miss Langbroek said, "super brave."

The morning passed fairly quickly. I prepared for the interview by going over the questions I had planned with A, who turned out to be a brilliant resource I truly had not expected. He flatly vetoed several of my questions, stating that the answers were confidential and/or not Champion Hawkins' secret to reveal; but of others he expressed ardent approval, stating that we "have much better questions planned than [local news broadcast, redacted to negate the insult offered through quotation]." He even had a few suggestions about questions we should ask— questions that, he said, Champion Hawkins would enjoy answering, "and possibly give you more than you bargained for because when she gets excited about sh**, she wil talk your f****** ear off." Nancy prepared for the photoshoot by taking test pictures and checking the lighting.

A took us to have lunch in the same room; there were many more teenagers at this meal, close to a hundred. Nancy wondered aloud if it was some kind of school, but the immoderate laughter at the idea quickly proved otherwise. A eventually informed us that the majority of young people living at the mansion were refugees, having fled from a group home in a dangerous location; and that Amelia Wicke was kind enough to allow them to stay and to make themselves at home.

The meaning of "making themselves at home" was very clear. The mansion reflected a minimalist and monochromatic interior design theme, but a large portion of hallways and parlors had been entirely defaced with a wide rainbow hue of various spray paints, reflecting all levels of artistic skill, as well as various subject matter ranging from moral philosophy to crude innuendo. Nancy had fallen quite in love with it the moment she was awake enough to notice, and we eventually did end up using some of the graffiti in the photoshoot.

We also learned that hosting these young people at the mansion had been a suggestion from Champion Hawkins' boyfriend, who was unavailable for question as he is doing a Gym challenge in Kanto. A told us that we would probably hear a little about Champion Hawkins' boyfriend in the interview, and therefore would not elaborate when we asked questions about him. It was slightly frustrating not to be trusted, but it also made Champion Hawkins all the more intriguing.

Not long after lunch, we were able to meet our host Amelia Wicke, who then introduced Champion Hawkins for the first time. Of course we had seen pictures and film before: screen-captures from her battle to challenge Professor Maleko Kukui as the placeholder League Champion, and her fully televised battle with rival and friend Hau Akiona, her first challenger. And there have been many battles since besides those. But film really did not do Moon Hawkins justice.

Moon is of an average height— shorter than Cynthia, taller than Iris and May, about the same height as Diantha and Rosa. She wears her dark hair short, reaching about to her chin; the sides are partially shaved, only revealed when she tucks her hair behind her ear. The black baseball cap with metal rings she sported in both battles with Kukui and Akiona (and the majority of battles since) was present, worn backwards instead of forward like usual. She wore plain jean shorts and a T-shirt, and was accompanied by four people around her own age, Elite Four Hano, and a woman whom I guessed, by the same striking hazel-gold eyes, had to be Moon's mother.

Moon greeted me in a friendly fashion, complimenting my previous work for this publication; she then greeted Nancy and asked several questions about her camera— it was explained to me later that Moon enjoys photography as a hobby— before we began setting up for the interview. The Champion changed into the outfit she had prepared for Nancy's photoshoot, and several more people arrived to help her with hair and makeup.

We then went to the other end of the room, and I turned on my recorder. A transcript of most of our conversation follows; some parts have been edited for clarity.

CS: So— Moon Hawkins. First Champion of the Alolan League!

MH: (laughing) Yeah, that's me.

CS: Would you mind describing yourself briefly? You don't have much of a social media presence, so most people don't know much about you.

MH: Um, yeah, that makes sense. I guess I don't know what you want to know, really.

CS: Whatever you think would be important.

MH: Okay. Um— I'm from Kanto originally, which I'm sure most people already know. I was born in Viridian City and my parents lived there for a few years until my dad got a job with Silph Co. and we moved to Pallet Town. So usually I tell people I'm from Pallet Town.

CS: Like Champion Red?

MH: And Gym Leader Blue, yeah. I actually kind of grew up with them? They're only a few years older than I am, and if they read this article and find out they were referenced without me clarifying that we're friends, Blue will throw a hissy fit. I'm dead serious, I will get a call. In the middle of the night, because time zones.

CS: So, you're close with them?

MH: Yeah. I guess you could say they're like my older brothers.

CS: What was it like growing up with legends?

MH: Well, the legends thing only happened when I was twelve, and I'd known Red since I was, I dunno, four? That was when my family moved to Pallet Town. Blue and his sister came to live with Professor Oak when I was six or seven. So I don't really see them as legends. They're just like, my two older-brothers-slash-friends. Red forgets to put the milk away after eating cereal, and Blue will whine for hours over the most minor inconvenience. They put their pants on one leg at a time, just like everyone else.

CS: That's fair. Did their careers influence your decision to pursue an island challenge?

MH: Absolutely. I originally thought I would go straight to college once I graduated high school, because I didn't have the money for a Gym challenge. But then my dad was offered a job here, and because my mom is Alolan he really wanted to take it. And I could afford to do an island challenge, so I went for it.

CS: Tell us about your island challenge. What was it like?

MH: (after a pause) Eventful. (laughing) But in all seriousness, it felt natural. It felt like something I was meant to do. Something I was born for. I didn't ever have a Pokémon of my own before I came here, and I used to dream up fantasy teams for every region I knew that had a League.

CS: What Pokémon do you have? Most people already know, but we like to include a small table of names, statistics, and pictures.

MH: Oh yeah, the tables! Those are one of my favorite parts of the interviews. (laughing) Um, first is Puck— now a Decidueye, but I got him as a Rowlet. Ariel, a Toucannon; I caught her as a Pikipek. Ben, a Jolteon— I raised him from an egg. Macbeth, a Golisopod; I caught her as a Wimpod. Hero, a Metagross— I caught them as a Metang. And Kate, who is, um, a Naganadel, and I received her as a gift when she was a Poipole.

CS: I'm not sure I've ever heard of Naganadel or Poipole, aside from your initial local news interview.

MH: I've had the opportunity to learn what I'm allowed to say about them, because there are actually rules about it. Naganadel and Poipole are what's known to INTERPOL as "Ultra Beasts." It's essentially an alternate name for alien Pokémon.

CS: Alien Pokémon?

MH: Yep.

CS: Could you elaborate on that?

MH: What I can say really is pretty limited, but suffice it to say that I was able to offer some assistance to residents of a planet that's located many thousands of light-years from Earth. As a reward for my services, I was given Poipole, who is native to that planet.

CS: You really can't say more than that?

MH: I really can't, sorry. I know that must be frustrating, and I get it because I get super annoyed when people tell me I'm not allowed to know something. But this time it's not any kind of b***sh**— wait, am I allowed to swear?

CS: You can say whatever you like, we'll censor it appropriately.

MH: Cool. Um, this time it's not any kind of b***sh** about how you need to "learn something for yourself." (The quotations were provided by Moon, using her fingers to demonstrate quotation marks.) This time it's legitimately because if too many people know about this kind of assistance, or the method I used to offer it, it could be exploited and cause real danger to the entire world.

CS: Wow.

MH: Yeah, it's classified for a reason.

CS: Well, tell us about challenging the League. I'm sure we all want to know the story behind that.

MH: I mean, I did an island journey, and then I challenged the League. I don't know if there's much more to it.

CS: Many Alolan Trainers who have long since completed the island challenge have scrambled to challenge the League since its opening, resulting in a high number of challengers in the first week or two of the League's opening.

MH: Technically I'm in that number. It opened on Valentine's Day, and I challenged on the twenty-eighth of February. Exactly two weeks.

CS: That's true. Most of those Trainers had been to Mount Lanakila when they completed their own island challenges with— hang on, I'm checking my notes about this because I'm not Alolan, and I don't want to get it wrong— a symbolic battle with the kahuna of each island?

MH: Yeah, that's what used to be the tradition.

CS: Oh, good. Most Trainers had already been to Mount Lanakila, but you must still have been on your way up the mountain when it opened, and the League was announced in— checking my notes again, sorry— October, I believe.

MH: Yeah, around then. I actually knew before the official announcement, because I have a Rotom-Dex. Professor Kukui was kind enough to entrust one to me.

CS: Oh, those are quite rare.

MH: Yeah, and he would check up on Hau and me. Hau Akiona. He'd check on us periodically, because he wanted to... see how we were doing. And some other reasons, but that's actually private so I won't elaborate.

CS: I see. So you were told in advance?

MH: Only by like, a day or two. We happened to be up on Mount Hokulani and I'd never seen Lanakila before, and the view is great from up there. Professor Kukui told us about it then.

CS: Hm. And did that affect your decision to challenge the League as a League, rather than the island challenge?

MH: Yeah, I would say so. I couldn't have done a Gym challenge in Kanto, because I didn't have enough money. I already said this, right?

CS: You did, but it's fine.

MH: Right, well— it was sort of... ugh, how do I say this without insulting anybody... okay, no, I don't care about insulting people with this. It just sucked, because I knew from the time I was like ten, that my family wouldn't be able to afford it. Part of this is because cost of living in Kanto is so f****** high. It's ridiculous if you're not willing to cram yourself into a space that's the size of a d*** shoe closet, and the wages don't match that. And on top of that, people are expected to work ridiculous g**d*** hours, and if they'd rather spend time with their families and have lives outside work, they're mocked and shamed and passed up for promotion. So my family, like— we were always poor. For Kanto. And that sucked, because I wore patched clothes to school and everyone else got a pet when they turned ten and I didn't. So I sort of just resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't gonna go, and focused on getting good grades so I could go to college. That wasn't hard because I've always been the academic type and I guess I'm pretty smart, if I do say so myself. And I actually got accepted to every school I applied to, and I'd almost settled on l'Academie Lumiose when my dad got the news about a job opening in Alola. And we moved like, that month. Which was... about ten months ago, now? Yeah, ten months. Wow.

CS: So you must have been very excited to take a journey with Pokémon.

MH: Yeah, I was. It wasn't the same as a Gym challenge, but I didn't mind that because there were still requirements you had to meet at certain times, and so on. I'd never thought I could have this. I thought I was able to get excited about college or whatever. But this happened, and it's literally the best thing that's ever happened to me and no matter how difficult it's gotten at times, I wouldn't change a d*** thing.

CS: So getting to challenge a League must have felt special for you, then?

MH: Oh, yes. Absolutely, one hundred percent. I had stupid little daydreams even knowing I couldn't do a Gym challenge. Like, okay but what if I could go, and I did it really well, and I made it to Blue and beat him, and then I made it all the way to Red and even beat him? Which is definitely just a daydream because literally no one has officially beaten Red in a battle ever, but I still used to imagine it. And then I would remember: no, I can't do that. So when I heard that Alola was opening a League, I just had this thought, for the first time: yes, I can do that. And that made me determined to work harder than ever. Of course, at this point I thought it was still up to— oh, no, forget I said that.

CS: Still up to what?

MH: (sighing) Well, honestly— this is big and probably people should know. Even though Alola already gets major side-eyed by other regions for it. So we sort of, um, celebrate our native legendary Pokémon, as well as Arceus? Like everyone reveres Arceus even if it's really casual, and most people have a healthy amount of respect-slash-fear for other legendaries in their region. But Alola is different. We're really close to our legendaries because we're such a small region. Kahunas are, quite literally, chosen by the Tapu guardians of each island. Tapu Koko chose my great-uncle Hala. Tapu Fini chose Hapu. Tapu Lele chose Olivia. Tapu Bulu chose Nanu. They picked them out personally, and spoke to them, and they work closely with them in caring for the islands— both for the people who live here, and the Pokémon that do.

CS: I'm still a bit confused— what does this have to do with you challenging the League?

MH: (sighing) The long and short of it is, I was approached. By other legendary Pokémon, not the Tapu guardians. And I was informed that they would like me to be the Champion, so I'd better do my d***edest to make it happen. Until that point, I really did think it was just down to luck and hard work. But I know better now. It's not that the legendary Pokémon were influencing my battle, or that they were making other people perform poorly. It's more like— they inspired me to do my absolute best, and maybe nudged me in a direction that I might not otherwise have chosen. And it's not that title challengers aren't also doing their absolute best. Some of those have been seriously tricky battles, and I don't want anyone to feel bad for losing to me. But at the end of the day, I'm the Champion for a reason. And until the legendaries want someone else to take my place, I'm pretty sure that here I will f****** stay.

CS: There aren't many legendary Pokémon other than the Tapu guardians in Alola, are there?

MH: (laughing) Heh, good catch. No, there are not.

CS: So the one who approached you either had to be Solgaleo or Lunala, correct?

MH: Well, there are more than you think, but the other two are... reclusive, and one of them isn't technically native to Earth anyway— but she's still got a lot of influence here. I think they would both prefer to keep to themselves, but they were involved in the decision along with Solgaleo and Lunala. I said "other Pokémon," not "another Pokémon."

CS: Ah, my mistake. So they both asked you?

MH: Yeah, pretty much. I'm not going into any more detail about that because it is intensely personal to me. Like, it's playing a huge role in the state of my mental health at any given time, and at this point in time that is really up and down and all over the f****** place. Which is fine, and sort of to be expected with all of the upheaval, both personal and professional, to which I have recently been subjected. I'm going to be seeing a therapist, so I'll be fine.

CS: Some people might argue that your seeing a therapist means you wouldn't be fit for the role.

MH: And some people would be full of b***sh**. I was kind of resistant about the idea at first, but it was pointed out to me recently how much I stand to gain from it. And I know plenty of people in similar positions who see a therapist, and it's only ever been beneficial to them.

CS: That's a fair statement. So— you became the Champion on February twenty-eighth. What was your challenge like? Your first time in the League itself?

MH: It was honestly surreal. I kept thinking "oh my god I'm finally doing this." Like my whole life had led up to this point— which I guess is true for every point in my life, but that one especially.

CS: Was it different knowing that you had been chosen?

MH: Actually, I don't think so. I didn't feel like they were influencing anything I did. But I did think that they were watching the battle.

CS: Them, and all of Alola.

MH: I know, right? (laughing) I'd met them all in person before, so I could— well, not exactly sense their presence or anything, but it was like I was aware of what they'd asked me to do. And I felt like I was doing it, and like I was doing it well. Like I was doing the best I could.

CS: That must have been a good feeling.

MH: Oh, yeah. It really was.

CS: Now, I hate to bring up uncomfortable topics— but I'd like to ask you about some of the public statements you've made as Champion.

MH: (laughing) Oh, boy. I wondered when you were gonna ask about that.

CS: (laughing) You expected me to ask?

MH: Yeah. I mean, I basically went viral for a couple of days. And I've been avoiding public statements and interviews for a bit, because I have been told that I need to learn how to— conduct myself a little more professionally? But I don't regret saying that. It needed to be said.

CS: You are actually one of only four Champions of color who is a formal member of the International League, the others being Iris of Unova, Leon of Galar, and Geeta of Paldea.

MH: Really? Wow. Holy sh**, I didn't even think about that. And honestly, they've probably had much tougher experiences than I've had, because I have lighter skin. Colorism is real.

CS: Perhaps, but it could be argued that Unova and Galar are among the more diverse regions of the International League, and therefore that they have been less likely to face racism.

MH: That's fair, but racism doesn't limit itself to regional boundaries. And I've only experienced it like, once here. Only once directly, anyway. Of course, ever since then there's been a flood of internet trolls creeping out from under their bridges, with all kinds of lovely things to say. (laughing)

CS: (laughing) Should I preemptively disable comments on the online edition of this article, then?

MH: Actually, I'd prefer it if you didn't, for the sole reason that if they choose to be awful, someone somewhere is going to call them out on their sh**. Even if it's just me typing on my Rotom-Dex at three in the morning.

CS: They do say to never read the comments.

MH: I guess you have a point. Especially if I ever want to do one of those "Read Mean Chats" segments on a TV show. It's more fun if they can surprise me with it.

CS: Is that something you would like to do?

MH: If I get an offer and my publicist and the League are both okay it? Absolutely. It kills two birds with one stone.

CS: How so?

MH: I get to call people out for being gross racists or just f****** idiots, and I get to display my sparkling and charming sense of humor.

CS: You said it, not me.

MH: Also, I find those segments hilarious when other Champions or celebrities do them, so it would be pretty fun to do one myself.

CS: You hear that, television shows? She's ready to go.

MH: (laughing) Thanks for the shout-out.

CS: (laughing) You're very welcome. Now, again I hesitate to bring this up when we're both in a good mood— but only a day and a half after you were announced as the Champion of the Alolan League, there was an incident here at Aether Paradise.

MH: Ah.

CS: Is there anything you would like to say about that? An account was provided by the press conference you gave at the time with the Elite Four and Island Kahunas, but that was fairly immediate to the situation and I wondered if you might have thought of anything you might like to say to the world since then.

MH: I— god, this is hard. Sorry.

CS: There's no shame in it.

MH: My friend who did my makeup is going to kill me if I actually cry though, so give me a minute.

CS: Of course...

MH: ...Okay, that's better. Whew. To answer your question? There's nothing about that incident I feel needs to be said, but I do have something I don't mind sharing, in lieu of what I experienced.

CS: Then by all means.

MH: Something I've learned since then is that life is confusing. It's difficult and confusing and sometimes your brain does weird things to try and cope. My best friend and her brother, who is also my boyfriend, they've both been through some really horrible things in their lives, and they've come through it all with just the utmost grace. They're both really terrific people. Stellar human beings. I've been through maybe a fraction of awful things by comparison, and I... have not dealt with it well. At all. In many ways, I feel responsible for what happened at Aether Paradise. You see, the attackers called themselves "Team Rainbow Rocket," and I am actually not only acquainted with, but close friends with the man who stopped the original Team Rocket. So I think part of what I've been struggling with since then was that people suffered because of me. Because of my link to Red. But that's not fair to Red, because it's absolutely not his fault either. But I'm the Champion, so I feel... responsible. And I've been struggling with that, too. What I've learned, rather more recently, is that there are a lot of people who love me. Who are worried about me, and about the way my brain has done weird things to cope with this entire mess. The way I have been coping with this. And so, I want to say this— if you're struggling, if you're hurting at all? Let the people who love you help. Let them take care of you for a little while. Then, once you're doing better— you'll be able to return the favor.

CS: That's... that's really profound, Moon.

MH: (laughing) Thanks, I guess.

CS: Now, I'd like to end on a more optimistic note, if you don't mind?

MH: Sounds great.

CS: What does being the first Champion of the Alola region mean to you, personally?

MH: Alola is emerging as a new league, and I think that it's going to be an international battling superpower. The Battle Tree is a brilliant institution, and our Victory Road is one of the most challenging of its kind in the entire world. But in other ways, Alola has been hurting. The old traditions are beautiful and we have kept as many of them as we can in the structure provided by an internationally recognized League, but there are things we have lacked. Things that we needed, and didn't know we needed. Some of those needs have been filled by the presence of the League, but some of them still need to be taken care of. The Champion's duty in a region has always been the difficult stuff. Sure, there's battling and testing and PR and so on; but there are other things, too. In the same way that a politically elected official has to answer to those who elect them into office, a Champion has to answer to those they serve. That's both people and Pokémon. Most of the time, answering to the people is much easier. People don't expect as much from Pokémon, as Pokémon do from people. And people aren't let down by Pokémon, as often as Pokémon are let down by people.

CS: That's interesting, and I have to wonder— is this related to you being chosen by Solgaleo and Lunala and the two legendaries you didn't name?

MH: (laughing) Is it that obvious? Yeah, it is. Um— I think of it this way. What does the word "champion" mean?

CS: It's someone who wins, isn't it?

MH: Yeah— a more dictionary definition might be someone who has surpassed or defeated all of their rivals, which honestly, in my opinion, doesn't necessarily mean winning against them. Sometimes you can win against someone without a battle. Sometimes you win by— by being kind. By offering service, by giving what you can in whatever way you can. But "champion" actually has another definition. It means, a person who fights or argues for a cause, or on behalf of someone else.

CS: That's a unique way of looking at it.

MH: And the word "champion" is also a verb, and the verb definition relates more to that second definition. It means to support the cause of, or to defend. And I've been thinking about this since I was very young, actually. You know, because I grew up friends with a Champion. I always thought, if I were ever to become a Champion, then being the first kind would be nice. But since I have actually become a Champion, I've learned that it's being the second kind that would be important. I became Alola's Champion, and the work I did to get there was, in fact, to surpass my rivals. But now I am Alola's Champion, and the work I want to do is— to champion the people and the Pokémon who live here. I will support them and defend them, and I will argue on their behalf for everything they deserve. I will always, always do that. I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't.

CS: ...That's remarkable.

MH: Thanks.

CS: No, Moon— thank you. This has been enlightening, and I can honestly say it's been a pleasure to get to know you.

MH: Heh. You're welcome.

After the conclusion of the interview, Nancy took Moon to begin the photoshoot out of doors at the Aether Paradise. I assisted in the way I generally do— lending my height if she wanted a higher shot, and so on. Moon was clearly a little uncomfortable before the camera, but the large group of friends and supporters who had gathered to witness the interview accompanied us and made a point of teasing her during the entire thing. At first, I thought she was annoyed by the heckling— and there was quite a lot of it. I very nearly asked them to stop; but then I realized, watching her, that the annoyance was largely superficial, and owed mostly to the fact that she was out of her comfort zone. Once she got used to it all, she was heckling her friends back, trading a dizzying volume of witty retorts. One truly gets the sense, in watching and listening to Moon, that if one says something rude or ignorant to her, that one will be immediately and mercilessly mocked for it. She's made it quite clear, even this early in her career, that she believes people need to think before they speak. Some of the teasing I witnessed ventured into fairly personal territory, and I thus was able to ascertain that Moon's belief in thinking before speaking does not come from being overly sensitive— she did, after all, put up with the heckling quite admirably— but from having been a person who has before said insensitive things. One might easily conjecture that an intelligent young woman, growing up with very little money and with darker skin in an area of the world where that is uncommon, might have plenty of reasons to speak to others with vitriol— chief among them being the vitriol she has herself faced. But Moon Hawkins has not allowed that vitriol to return to others. The only people she opposes are the ones who attack first.

Close to the end of the photoshoot, Moon said something that I found intriguing: I guess you could say that Alola hasn't changed me, so much as it's revealed me. Revealed who I really am. The use of the words "change" and "reveal" struck me when she said them. One of the most prolific Pokémon species of Alola are the birds known as Oricorio. They do not evolve, but have four different forms, varieties with differing elemental typings. Biologically this is based upon the nectar of the flowers they consume in different areas of the region; and interestingly enough, also based upon different dance styles that are common to the area.

Melemele Island, the most population-dense of the islands, is home to the Pom-Pom Oricorio— an Electric type, which creates small pom-poms out of its own shed feathers and shakes them when it dances, like a cheerleader. The sport of rugby is the most popular organized sport in Alola, and it has a strong tradition on Melemele Island specifically; Kahuna Hala Akiona, for instance, played rugby for his high school team in his youth. Rugby in Alola is much like football in Unova (which I will remind all readers is itself different from football in other regions) in that the regional high school games are very popular. Alola has too small a population for a professional rugby league, though they do have a national team; and pro teams from other nations such as Galar, Kalos, and Unova often recruit rugby players from Alola. So it is understandable that Pom-Pom Oricorio developed their cheerleading style, in order to encourage a sport that perhaps it sees as comparable to a good battle.

Akala Island is home to Pa'u Oricorio, a Psychic type. It forms a hula-skirt with its longer shed feathers and dances traditional Alolan hula dances. Alolan traditional dance has always been popular on Akala Island. There is a uniquely Alolan battle technique referred to as "Z-Dancing," and one of the trial captains on Akala even themes his trial around it. (Moon informed me that it was the only trial she did not pass on her first try, which I found interesting— her record is not entirely spotless like Red of Kanto, but she has not faced a single defeat since that time.)

Ula'ula Island is home to Baile Oricorio— and this is a truly interesting phenomenon, for the word baile means "dance" in Paldean. Ula'ula Island is home to a large Orcalos community. The Orcalos are people who lived south of Kalos and west of Paldea, and developed some of the same linguistic habits as both regions. Baile Oricorio dances in the style of flamenco dancers, which the Orcalos people brought with them from that area of the world. The word "flamenco" contains the word "flame," which is very appropriate for Baile Oricorio as they are Fire-types.

And finally, Poni Island is home to Sensu Oricorio, who are Ghost-types. Though Poni Island is the least developed of the islands, it is home to a sizeable Kantonian community, located at the town in and around Alola's "Battle Tree." ("My parents considered settling there to be close to people from the same culture as my dad, but he works on Ula'ula Island and the commute would have been hell," said Moon, when I asked.) Sensu Oricorio are named for a type of fan used in their dance style, which is called buyo in Kantonian. Sensu Oricorio learned their style from Kantonian buyo dancers.

Any member of the Oricorio species, if they are given nectar from the flower of another island, they will change to an Oricorio of that type. The transformation is instantaneous, one might almost say magical. Pokémon evolution and adaptation are truly fascinating. And the single thing that all Oricorio have in common— no matter their original island or what nectar they have drunk— is the move "Revelation Dance." It takes the typing of whichever form Oricorio is in— revealing itself, one might say, to an opponent or an observer.

Moon Hawkins, in one region, was a bird of a different feather. But once transferred to a new region, and given the sweet and enriching experience of a Pokémon journey, she has performed for us, and for herself, one long Revelation Dance. She was not changed— but revealed. And I, like many of you, look forward to seeing what else she may reveal in the future.

—Curtis Stiles, Battlers International

* * * * *

Chapter Text

* * * * *

"I have four tasks instead of three, don't I?"

Gramps blinked at Hau for several long moments. "How did you know?" he said finally.

"Well— it was kind of Moon, and kind of Gladion," said Hau, pleased that he'd gotten it right. "Because I know Gladion's got three tasks. We were talking the other day and he told me he did one, he's doing another, and that the last one is something he'll need my help on. But then his face did like, a thing, and he opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again. So I think there's actually four tasks. And that would make sense, because there are four islands."

His grandfather's brow furrowed. "I see. And Moon?"

"Moon went on a journey," said Hau, holding up one finger. "And so did I. Which I think is the one Gladion is doing now. And Hapu went on a journey, even though kids who graduate early are usually supposed to wait until they're eighteen. I don't think trial captains necessarily have to do an island challenge or a gym challenge, right?"

"They do not," confirmed Hala. "Most choose to complete one, but there have been trial captains in the past who have not been on a journey. Generally it is due to the trial captain in question performing some extraordinary service to the Tapu."

"But kahunas are required to go?"

"They are. They are meant to learn through experience how they may better test others."

"Makes sense." Hau nodded. "Well, I know my journey was one task, and that's finished. And I have another task that Koko gave me specifically, but— he said not to discuss that with you?"

"I would assume so. Generally the tasks given are in the following order: firstly, a proving; secondly, a journey; thirdly, a quest; and fourthly, a discovery."

Hau blinked at him. "I'm sorry, but some of those sound like the same thing. Could you elaborate?"

"Of course. A proving is a task performed with the previous kahuna, if they are available; it proves to the elder that the younger will be a worthy successor. In Gladion's case, you may already know what that is."

"Was that the whole thing where he and Nanu exploded the Thrifty Megamart?"

"Indeed it was. His task was to remove the final vestiges of Foxglove's presence from the island. Foxglove only remained where he was because— well, no, that is not my story to tell." Hala looked sad for a few moments. "Gladion may tell you more, but I would wait to ask him until Nanu has fully retired."

"That's fine. What about Hapu? She didn't have the chance to do anything with her grandfather, right?"

"She did not. I am not privy to the details, but I gather that her proving task had something to do with the way to Tapu Fini's shrine. The land entrance was destroyed shortly before Ikaika's death by a cave-in, and the ocean entrance was not established. Tapu Fini would have guided her to it in some way, and Hapu's task was likely to clear it, or to add the flags which you would have observed on the way in."

Hau remembered the narrow tube they'd had to swim through and shuddered. "Glad that wasn't me. It was bad enough just going there."

Gramps' face twitched. "Well, that's unfortunate."

"Why?"

"Because your lesson tomorrow will involve traveling to and through that area."

Hau stared at him. "That's not on my island, though."

"No, it is not," agreed Gramps, "but being the kahuna of Melemele Island does not mean that you are not obligated to assist all Alolans who may require it. Hapu requested your assistance specifically, and she did also add a preemptive apology— I wasn't sure what for, but you seem to have disliked your last experience there so I would assume it was for this reason."

"Not all of it. It was just this one part. Kind of a bioluminescent coral tube thing? It was really narrow and dark and at first we couldn't have our head lamps on, but then the stuff started glowing. Really pretty, but still really narrow. I'm a big dude so I was getting a little claustrophobic."

Hala didn't say anything immediately, merely gazing at Hau with a contemplative expression.

"What?"

"It's interesting."

"What is?"

"The way things have worked out. I do not think that Tapu Koko asked Tapu Fini to ask Hapu for your help, and nor did Hapu give any hint that it might have been a divinely mandated request. But it is uniquely suited to you. Due to Koko's request that you complete the majority of your journey without any knowledge of your future status, your tasks are not quite in order. Your journey came first, and you have already been assigned your quest— generally a task which you are meant to take charge of, in order to showcase future leadership abilities."

"That's herding Ultra Beasts, right?"

"Indeed. You can and should request the assistance of others in completing the quest, but you are to lead."

"Makes sense. What about the discovery?"

"Generally," said Hala, still studying him, "the discovery can be completed at any point in the kahuna's career. You may be fully instated before you complete it, or you may have it done in a week. And it is the most subject to interpretation— I can only guess at what it might mean for you. You will know when you have completed it."

"But Gladion probably already knows his."

"Gladion is something of a special case, you must remember. Nanu has long been unable to fulfill one of the most important tasks of holding the office of kahuna— that of protecting his island. So I think Gladion's discovery is more likely something related to either a protection that Nanu has allowed to lapse, though I cannot guess as to the nature of the protection; or a discovery of something that was lost in the last ten years. But I did say it could happen at any point. Hapu has not completed her discovery task yet."

"She hasn't?" said Hau, startled.

"No. She says that it must wait. I suspect she knows what it is, but that it may require a certain length of time or a certain milestone event of some type. At any rate, she has requested your assistance, and initially I thought perhaps it might be related to your discovery task, even though that is more personal. But now... I am wondering if it does not have something to do with proving, even though I am not involved."

Hau frowned. "What do you mean?"

Gramps was still watching him with the same intrigued expression. "Generally speaking, a proving task would... prove the worth of a young kahuna to an old one, because the old one could not verify that the young kahuna would be worthy without seeing them in action. But I have known you for your entire life and so in a way has Koko, and we already believe you to be worthy. So I must wonder if, perhaps your proving task is meant to prove you not to me and Koko— but to others. The other kahunas and Tapus, certainly; but perhaps other people."

"Do you think people might get kind of bent out of shape over how you're my grandad? Like they might be mad because it's not usually a hereditary kind of thing?"

"Perhaps. There were no objections to Hapu's appointment, though she too is the grandchild of a kahuna. I think it is more likely they would object to Gladion due to his time associated with Team Skull."

"I will fight anyone who says that," said Hau immediately. "I don't even fight people, but I will throw hands if someone pulls that crap. That's just dumb."

* * * * *

Hapu clapped her hands. "All right, everyone," she said politely. "Please pay attention."

Hau was honestly a little confused about why he was here. There had to be at least thirty people present, all standing on the black-sands beach of southeastern Poni Island. He, and everyone else, was wearing a wet suit and scuba gear.

The only person he recognized besides Hapu was Ricky Walu, standing quietly by himself off to one side. Hau accidentally made eye contact, gave a bro-nod, and turned to pay attention to Hapu.

"As usual you will need to partner up with someone, as working alone is dangerous. I believe we have an even number, so there shouldn't be an issue with anyone getting left out. One of you needs a net—" She held up a really weird-looking, fine-meshed net with one hand, and a pair of thick, oversize gloves with the other. "—and the other needs to wear protective gear. Pair off and see me for your nets and gloves." Her gaze flicked through the crowd until it landed on Hau. "Hau, you will be with me."

"Cool," said Hau, shooting her a double thumbs-up. "Still don't know what I'm doing, though."

"I will explain it to you," Hapu assured him. "Everyone else here has already done this, so they can get started first."

"Oh, a first-timer?" called a tall, broad-shouldered woman with a grin. She was standing next to Ricky Walu, and she strode forward to grab a pair of gloves and a net. Ricky accepted the net in silence. "Well, good luck to you. Are you having him pick or carry, Kahuna?"

"Since we will be covering the area closest to Tapu Fini's cave, he will be carrying," said Hapu placidly.

More people came to get gloves and nets, and busied themselves with putting on their scuba gear before wading into the water.

"So, what are we doing?" Hau asked Hapu, as the last pair took their gloves and net.

"We are picking seaweed," answered Hapu. "But it is a particular type of seaweed, known commonly as oyster thief."

Hau frowned. "Do Clamperls or Shellder eat it or something?"

"Both of those are carnivorous, so no. The seaweed is called oyster thief because it has been known to latch onto Clamperl or Shellder and simply float away. This can be dangerous not only for the Clamperl and Shellder themselves, who rely on remaining stationary in order to survive, but for Pokémon that prey on Clamperl and Shellder. The seaweed presents a choking hazard."

"Isn't that just kind of a survival of the fittest thing, though?"

"Ordinarily yes, but oyster thief is extremely invasive. It latches onto anything and everything it can. It must be manually cleared out of Poni Island's waters periodically, so that the natural ecosystem is not overwhelmed. What little plant life that grows here is precious, but it cannot compete with oyster thief. Brown algae grows fast in the brackish water of these shores— too fast for the rest of the ecosystem to keep up."

"Okay, that makes sense." Hau remembered what Gramps had said, about things that Nanu might have allowed to lapse in the last ten years. "Does Ula'ula Island have this problem? There's a black-sand beach near there, too."

"No, it does not. The thermal vents in that area are much greater in number, and have killed off most plant life in the area." Hapu's gaze was knowing. "The presence of Foxglove in spirit form also did little to assist the natural rate of floral growth."

"Fair enough."

* * * * *

Hau soon learned that "extremely invasive" was actually a fairly mild term for what oyster thief did to the environment around it.

Swimming after Hapu with a rope attaching them, they followed the purple flags along the ocean floor, passing other pairs of workers. The person wearing the gloves pulled a dark, floppy plant from the rock, depositing it inside the net. Each pair seemed to be based around one of the flags. The net dragged in the water slightly until he thought to bunch it up. Hapu paused occasionally to inspect the work of the others; she had exchanged her plain black wetsuit for a neon purple one, which seemed to be a visibility choice more than anything else. People occasionally waved at them, clearly recognizing Hapu.

The usually clean black rock of the ocean floor was hazy, obscured with a brownish tint which was apparently the fault of the invasive weed. Once they had passed the last pair, Hapu stopped, turned, and gestured up to his dim headlamp. Hau really did not want to turn off his light, but he knew he had to so he reached up to tap it off.

They waited in the dark water for a few moments; but then a telltale glow appeared below them, and he saw (and felt) Hapu dive.

There was oyster thief everywhere. The neon rainbows he remembered from last time were obscured by ugly, dark scraps of leafy grass that had latched onto the sides of the coral tube and crevices in the rock.

He sort of thought they would start right there at the top, but Hapu swam through it all, impatiently brushing slimy weeds out of her path. There was enough of it that they both got tangled a few times, and had to pull on the rope that connected them for help from the other. Hau was surprised to see Hapu reach behind her and pull what honestly looked like a katana from a sheath. It was probably just a machete, but she was so tiny that the proportion of the knife to her body made it seem like an actual sword. She hacked through the weeds, a grim expression on her face; and they kept swimming through the tunnel.

And then Hapu came to a halt, looking up at what appeared to be a solid mass of brown.

For several long moments she remained motionless; but then she sheathed the machete and reached for a ball at her belt.

The Pokémon she brought out was Gastrodon, and when they both turned to look at Hau he reached for his belt and held Poppy's ball up questioningly. Hapu nodded and turned to study the tangled seaweed vines again.

Poppy clearly wanted to play, as she rarely had the opportunity to be underwater; but Hau reined her in with a quick shake of his head. He waved at Hapu, getting her attention, and made a motion as though to punch the seaweed. She shook her head quickly and pointed at her eyes, then at Hau, and then at the seaweed.

She wanted him to look at it, then. Hau studied the seaweed, but he honestly wasn't sure what to look for. It looked almost black against the neon glow of the usual bioluminescent light— what wasn't covered by seaweed, anyway.

He made as though to move closer, but a hand on his arm stopped him. Hapu was shaking her head, wide-eyed; she pointed down, almost toward the floor.

Hau looked down and blanched when he saw what had to be several Pokémon skeletons. They were all fish Pokémon, as far as he could tell— though they all still had some rotting flesh on them. That meant that they hadn't been eaten by whatever killed them.

Hau.

Tapu Koko sounded amused, though that was normal.

Yes? thought Hau, as politely as he was capable of sounding in his own thoughts.

My sister and her partner are having difficulty seeing what this is, but I think I understand.

Wait, Tapu Fini is here?

She is trapped on the other side of the tangle, as neither she nor her partner wish to form a wormhole so close to her home. The tangle has resisted all attempts at removal.

One of the neat things about mind-sharing with Tapu Koko was that he could sort of see the thoughts as Koko had them, if he were paying attention. I don't think it can be a Pokémon. There aren't very many seaweed Pokémon. Dhelmise, but I think that's it. I guess Skrelp and Dragalge count, too.

I agree with you, but I don't think this beast was originally of the water.

The mental image nearly made Hau gasp before he remembered he was scuba diving and needed to conserve his air. Show that to Tapu Fini and Hapu! he said excitedly. It fits perfectly. It must be a Pokémon that's adapted to Alola over time, and decided to move in here. I didn't even think there were any of the usual kind here, let alone an Alolan adaptation.

There were a few moments of silence, but then Hapu turned to look at Hau with even wider eyes than usual. Hau nodded vigorously, and she turned to stare at the tangle once more— searching, as he had been doing, for eyes.

Hey, Koko?

Yes?

Can you think of any caves on Melemele that are maybe empty and likely to stay that way, and have access to the ocean?

You would relocate it to our island?

As long as it promises to behave itself, sure. From what I remember, this Pokémon tends to prefer temperate grassland areas. It was funny, but a lot of people forgot, especially in light of Moon being... well, Moon, that Hau had been his class valedictorian, and that he might be a big guy with a lot of muscle, but he was also kind of a Pokémon nerd. Not quite in the same way Moon was, but still, pretty nerdy. It's probably— well, I would guess it's gained Water type, if it can live down here in salt water. But Poni Island isn't what I would call temperate. It's not a desert like the one on Ula'ula, but the water is a lot saltier here and I bet that's why it's making so many seaweed vine things— it's not getting enough water in comparison to the salt it's also consuming. The water in Melemele isn't as salty, so I don't think it would need to make itself grow so big.

There was a long pause.

There is a cave near the rocky mountain-valley, said Koko finally. The cave opens out onto the southern bay. It is technically accessible from the cave whereby one may reach the valley itself, but it would be a hard descent even for an experienced climber. The cave is home to a few pebble-beasts, some of the gemstone ghosts, and the little steel-trappers. I do not think they will mind sharing with a tangled seaweed, as none of them live in the water itself. There are some fish and aquatic birds, but they rarely live within the cave and only enter to hunt. It would be an acceptable solution.

Great! Could you tell Tapu Fini and Hapu? Then maybe you and Tapu Fini can work on persuading it to be moved.

Koko didn't answer, but Hapu turned to look at Hau again, with an intrigued expression in her eyes and a nod— she'd found the eyes. He offered her another double thumbs-up.

She is amenable, said Koko finally. Now the only issue remaining is that of communication.

Can't you just talk to it the way you talk to me?

It would not understand. Fini and Hapu did not even realize what it was because it was not making any attempt to communicate. Now that we know what to look for we can sense an... awareness, but that is it.

An awareness?

How intelligent do you think a clump of seaweed is even when it isn't sentient?

He had a pretty good point, but the idea lurking behind his words left a fairly bad taste in Hau's mouth. Do we have to hurt it, though?

It is likely it will be hurt whether or not we move it. The bones on the ocean floor indicate such.

Because it wouldn't have killed if it weren't defending itself?

The sense of acquiescence was non...verbal? Hau wasn't sure if the thought communication thing he had going with Koko counted as verbal if he wasn't talking out loud.

I think we're going to need a bigger net, he said. And probably more people. Strong swimmers who have at least one Pokémon capable of underwater battle and who won't get claustrophobic.

Fini will not like that. She values her privacy.

If old Ms. Tapu Fini would like Seaweed Junior to get off her lawn, she's just going to have to deal.

There was a long pause. You do not know, said Koko evenly, how much effort I expended just now, in endeavoring to keep the delightful mental image with which you provided me from filtering over to my sister.

Oh my god did I make you laugh?

Are you really so surprised? I am partially a spirit of mischief. I enjoy laughter.

And that, supposed Hau, was a very good point.

* * * * *

"I don't know what a Tangrowth is doing in Alola, either," said Hapu with a frown. She sat cross-legged on the sand, her phone on top of a metal bucket. Pairs of seaweeders were beginning to pick their way out of the ocean, hauling nets full of long, clumpy brown grass. Hau was scanning each net with his Pokédex app, but so far hadn't discovered any Pokémon lurking among them. A large pickup-truck with a trailer attachment was parked on the sand, and the broad-shouldered woman and Ricky Walu had taken charge of piling nets onto the trailer and strapping them down. Sand and seawater oozed from the sides of the trailer, but it didn't seem to matter to either of them.

"Could someone have visited and just left it here?" wondered Olivia from the phone, voice floating loudly up on speaker so Hau could hear. "A regular one, that is."

"I suppose it is possible, but even a regular Tangrowth would still just be a Grass-type. The preliminary scans that I did suggest higher amounts of Grass, Water, and Poison-type genetic content, which means that this species must be in at least its third generation here."

There was a long silence after that.

"Aether," said Nanu suddenly, his already gruff voice practically bass-boosted by the speaker.

"You think the Aether Foundation is responsible for this?"

"Maybe," said Nanu cryptically. "Wouldn't be the first time it's happened. Some rich chucklefuck from another country leaves a Pokémon at the Paradise, the paperwork gets fucked up if Wicke isn't the one doing it, and a clueless Aether minion thinks the thing is healed and brings it back out to the wild, thinking it will rejoin its kind."

"But there aren't any Tangrowth or even Tangela in Alola to begin with!" burst out Hau, even though Hapu had requested for him to merely listen.

"That Hala's boy?" said Nanu, his tone not changing.

"It is," confirmed Gramps.

Hapu offered him a knowing, slightly rueful smile.

"Doesn't mean it wouldn't happen," said Nanu, clearly addressing Hau. "Wicke's good about hiring all sorts, but that means there's plenty of low-level flunkies who ain't got the common sense of a Tangrowth, let alone the knowledge of whether or not it's an Alola native."

Hau opened his mouth to argue this, remembered that he, Moon, and Gladion were able to easily break into Aether Paradise and overwhelm the entire Aether security staff, and closed it again. "Okay, fair," he admitted. "So, I have an idea, and I think Tapu Koko will back me on it—"

I will.

"Okay, he will back me on it," continued Hau without missing a beat. "We're going to need some pretty strong swimmers and a much larger net, though. We swim in, set up the net, loosen the seaweed from the sides of the cave with Ice-type attacks, Tapu Fini punches the Tangrowth in its weak point, it gets pushed into the net, we close it and haul ass, Tapu Fini or Tapu Koko makes a wormhole to an ocean cave below Ten Carat Hill which Koko has assured me is empty enough for the Tangrowth to be content, and we yeet the thing through and let it go. And then the Professors can visit and make their own scans."

"The cave below Ten Carat Hill?" There was a slight frown in Gramps' voice.

"Yeah. Tapu Koko says the only things living there are Roggenrola, Sableye, and Mawile, and that they won't mind sharing the water part of the cave with Tangrowth. Some Magikarp, Psyduck, Wishiwashi, and so on go in and out, but don't live there. And most people don't ever go to that section of the cave anyway."

"I'll have to make some arrangements for the TM we've kept there to reward explorers, but other than that I don't see any issues."

"Oh, what TM?"

"Explosion." There was a pause. "We might move that one to Ula'ula Island, to be kept near the remains of the former Ghost-type trial. It would be appropriate."

"Oh, ha ha," said Nanu, when everyone else laughed. Hau could almost hear him rolling his eyes. "But you're right we need a few things 'sides Ghostium Z to stick in there, so I'll take it off your hands."

"Much appreciated, Ishmael," said Gramps warmly. "Hapu, what was the distribution of Tangrowth's genetic construct?"

"My Pokédex is not capable of providing exact percentages; that will have to wait for either the Professors or the Aether Foundation," admitted Hapu. "But at my best guess, it is about forty percent Grass, forty percent Poison, and twenty percent Water. We will likely have to wait for Professor Kukui and Professor Burnet to set up the necessary monitoring equipment to confirm my hypothesis. In the meantime, Kahuna Hala— if you would not mind relocating that TM, and perhaps closing the ocean cave off for the next few days, Hau and I will organize the removal of Tangrowth from Tapu Fini's cave. She wants it gone as quickly as possible, and given that it has been responsible for the unmitigated growth of oyster thief and has cut a large swathe through the local Clamperl, Shellder, and Cloyster population, I quite find myself in agreement with her."

"We have Shellder, Clamperl, and Cloyster as well," said Gramps, with a much more prominent frown in his voice.

"But Tangrowth aren't naturally carnivorous," pointed out Hau. "We saw a few fish skeletons, but they weren't picked completely clean so Koko said that was probably just self-defense and they'd been eaten by other fish instead. And seaweed are, um— not quite plants, more like algae? Both plants and algae eat sunlight, and between the black sand and rock and somehow getting stuck in a cave, I'd guess that Tangrowth isn't getting much of that— so it makes sense that it's making more vines, or fronds, or whatever seaweed is called. It's just trying to get more sunlight to feed itself. I went hunting Flyinium Z ages ago in Ten Carat Hill, and there's plenty of natural holes in the rock that reach down even to the ocean part of the cave. It will get enough sunlight that it probably won't feel like it has to spread that much. And if it does end up spreading, we can probably control it with regular diving expedition things like what Hapu does."

"It's mostly organized by the owner of the Wailord Buffet," said Hapu, her mouth quirking in a smile. "Martha takes the seaweed and dries it for use in cooking. I would have had nothing to do with the effort, if it had not grown as far as the entrance to Fini's den."

"So we would have to organize something similar," conceded Hau. "But that's only if it keeps spreading and growing new, uh, weeds. I really think that the sunlight in the ocean cave and the lower salt content in Melemele's water will help Tangrowth enough that it will stay pretty small."

"You could catch it and break the ball after," suggested Nanu. "That way you don't have all that bother with nets."

"That might tick it off, though."

"True enough."

"So, it is settled," said Gramps, after a few moments. "I will prepare the ocean cave at Ten Carat Hill and alert the Professors, and Hapu and Hau will prepare the team to remove Tangrowth from the entrance to Tapu Fini's den. How long will it take to find enough people?"

"We can probably ask those who are already accustomed to gathering seaweed for Martha to assist us, but I think it is a task best suited for tomorrow," said Hapu. "Hau may stay here for the night, if he wishes. I suspect Martha will want to consult with both of us regarding the plan this evening, if we approach her immediately. I will communicate to inform you when we have decided upon a timeframe."

"Excellent. Thank you, Hapu."

* * * * *

Not only did Martha— the broad-shouldered woman who had paired up with Ricky Walu to pick seaweed— immediately volunteer to assist, but she found a much larger net, over twenty feet in either direction. Which was great, because the Tangrowth... Alolan-form Tangrowth?... was probably eight feet around in terms of solid height.

Hapu would not be holding onto the net, as she was (by her own statement) small and not as physically strong as Hau or Martha. Hau knew how much strength it took for someone as short as Hapu to regularly ride a full-sized Mudsdale, but didn't voice his opinion. Ricky Walu hesitantly volunteered as well, as his only Pokémon (much to Hau's surprise) was a Carvanha.

"We don't train much or anything, he's more of a pet," he said gruffly, staring at the ground. "But I've had him a while and I think maybe he might be getting ready to evolve? He's gotten a lot bigger, and some of the red and yellow in his skin is starting to fade a bit. And I think he learns Ice Fang when he evolves, so he might could help."

"That would be helpful," agreed Hapu, with a nod. "Perhaps you would consent to train a little this evening with myself or Hau, to see if we could trigger the evolution before you accompany us?"

"Yeah, that'd be fine, ma'am."

It was weird hearing a grown man of twenty-one refer to a seventeen-year-old girl as ma'am, but to fair, Hapu inspired that sort of reaction in most people.

It was also weird to watch Ricky battle. Ricky was three years older than Hau but clearly had no idea what he was doing—whereas Hapu was an entire year younger and Hau was pretty certain he'd only beat her for the Poni Grand Trial in the first place because she was being polite about it. He still remembered watching that beautiful battle with Tapu Fini at her kahuna ceremony.

Arceus hell, that meant he was going to have to fight Koko, didn't it?

I wouldn't worry too much about it, murmured Koko in his mind, watching Ricky and his awkward teenaged Carvanha struggle against Hapu's frankly scary Mudsdale.

You're— an Electric-type. Hau frowned. That sounds kind of rude, but like— Poppy's a Water-type, and Sonar's a Flying-type.

Perhaps that is true. The acknowledgement was amused. But neither of those are your primary partner, are they?

Hau opened his mouth— ostensibly to argue, but he remembered that Ricky was still like, ten feet away and was mostly not in on the whole future kahuna thing; and actually, Koko had a point. As much as Uila had tried to defer to Poppy as the oldest member of the crew, he had still become Hau's ace. Frankly, Hau was just grateful that Poppy hadn't decided to throw a fit over it.

And since he'd made some pretty tentative plans about specializing in Psychic-types, it made sense for Uila to be his ace— at least, for his proper advanced team. Poppy might be able to stay on that team for a little while, because she knew Psychic (a solid counter for Poison-type moves that threatened her Fairy-typing) but eventually he was probably going to have to pick some more teammates with Psychic-types, and retire most of his current team.

That hurt to think about, so he resolutely turned his mind back to Hapu's patient training with Ricky.

Finally, as the sun was beginning to sink over the horizon, there was a flash of blue light and Ricky's Carvanha had evolved into a rather small Sharpedo. Hapu inspected the Sharpedo, which snarled at her like most of its kind would do; she pronounced it healthy, if a bit weak.

Hau actually had stayed a couple of times at Hapu's house— whenever he and Moon had been travelling, of course, but also a few times when Moon was off doing other things and he had a free day to spend with Lillie. Though sometimes Lillie had therapy and Gladion didn't, and that meant that he hung out with Gladion. At first that had been like, hella awkward; but then one day Hau had suggested, "Hey, do you want to go pick wild Berries, because you like plants and I like eating and you can probably tell me what's safe to eat and what's going to kill me?" And Gladion had blinked at him a few times, and then breathed out a quiet, slightly wide-eyed yes. It wasn't until later, when Gladion was more comfortable with him, that he explained that he hadn't really ever had a friend suggest an activity that catered to his personal interests. Sure, sometimes he'd hung out with Rogelio who knew a lot more about plants; but Gladion had been arbitrarily punishing himself for abandoning Lillie or being a "bad son" or whatever, and refused to let anyone see his interest in plants. Sometimes the Team Skull kids would drag him off to do friendly activities, like the Alola's Drag Race viewing parties (Cassie had gotten Hau into that in a casual fashion in high school, he didn't keep up with it religiously but it was still fun to watch) or movies or bowling or whatever. But Gladion hadn't really felt comfortable doing those things.

Hau remembered one night, when Lillie had had a long and exhausting therapy session and had politely requested to be left very much alone for the rest of the day, that he'd gone out stargazing with Gladion. Gladion was very knowledgeable about the heavens— he was fond of the observatory on Aether Paradise, he explained, and proceeded to show Hau a ton of constellations. They hadn't gone back inside until about one in the morning, both of them giggling quietly and trying not to wake up Lillie. Gladion laughed like he was holding his breath— as though he wasn't sure if he was allowed to make noise or take up space. Hau didn't have much experience with abuse but he knew that wasn't normal, and he'd done his best to make his friend relax and laugh and feel comfortable.

God, he kind of missed Gladion. He was Hau's first real friend who was also a guy.

Anyway: the point was that Hau had stayed at Hapu's home a few times, so he was pretty comfortable there. It was a bit lonely without Lillie, Moon, or Gladion, but he would manage.

Rooming with Ricky, though— that was awkward. Hau had a set of spare clothes but he was saving them for tomorrow, which meant he was in a pair of slightly-too-small pajama pants borrowed from Hapu's cousin Jay, and a huge, ugly T-shirt that Hapu blandly informed him had belonged to Kahuna Ikaika. Hau didn't mind. He wasn't picky about clothes. But he wasn't comfortable sharing the room with Ricky, and thus he was still awake at half-past eleven when a quiet "Hau?" sounded from the other end of the room.

For a few seconds Hau debated pretending to be asleep, but immediately pressed down the uncharitable instinct. That was no way for a future kahuna to act. "Yeah, man, what's up?"

There was a long silence.

"Why?" said Ricky finally. "Why did you— tell me to come here?"

"If you don't like being here, I'm sure Kahuna Hapu won't keep you."

"You know what I mean." His voice was impatient. "You're not a fucking idiot."

Hau thought about all the answers he could give, all the reasons he wanted to offer. There was a thought about bullies in there, about Jack Felton being given (and apparently taking) a chance to do the right thing; about Kohaku who had never had the opportunity; about Lusamine who just wouldn't try; about Faba, who had been given chance after chance after chance and still wouldn't fucking listen. (Hau was fairly patient by nature, but even his patience had limits.)

But the thought he was having related mostly, oddly enough, to Cassie. Cassie had been stuck with a shitty life on Melemele Island and had broken things off with Hau about a month before running away from home, and he'd felt awful for a few minutes after seeing it on her Spindagram story until he actually read the post that accompanied it: finally free from the bullshit.

Some people might have said that by dropping out of high school, Cassie had thrown away her life or whatever. But Hau knew Cassie, even if their relationship hadn't really lasted that long. Cassie hadn't thrown her life away; she'd gambled it, gambled on Team Skull being a better and safer place than her own home. Safer was still up for debate, but better was not even for a moment in question.

"Everyone deserves a second chance," he said finally. He'd already sort of said this to Ricky, but it bore repeating. "Even if you'd decided not to come here, you still would have had the opportunity."

"But why you?"

Ah. That was a different question entirely— but of all the people in Alola, Ricky was actually one of the people who probably deserved an explanation for this. It probably had to suck, to realize that the guy indirectly responsible for destroying your future was going to become the next island kahuna.

"You weren't hoping for it to be you, were you?"

That earned him a snort. "Good god, no. I'm not cut out for that shit. But it usually doesn't... pass down like that, does it?"

"Nah." Hau considered for a few moments. "In a weird way, it might be because of you, actually? The stuff with us happened, and you could say that... the powers that be took notice of me."

There was a very long silence after that. Hau was just beginning to wonder if Ricky had dropped off when, out of the darkness, the other spoke quietly.

"It really is you, then?"

"Not yet," confirmed Hau. "But yeah, it really is me."

"Huh." And after that, Ricky didn't say anything else; and Hau went to sleep with the feeling that he'd given the other guy a lot to think about.

* * * * *

The biggest challenge of moving the Tangrowth was getting it to let go of the rock in the first place. Hau had Poppy directing Ice Beams at the edges of the clinging seaweed. Ricky's Sharpedo was chomping on the kelp near the base of the cave with Ice Fang; Martha had a Simipour that was using Scald in an attempt to repel Tangrowth with heat; and Hapu had Gastrodon using Ice Beam as well.. Despite their best efforts, the Tangrowth just seemed to want to latch on tighter than before.

Hau sighed, looking at his wrist to check the waterproof watch with which he had been outfitted before they went on their dive. They had perhaps twenty minutes left before they were going to have to retreat and refill their oxygen tanks. There just wasn't enough time.

You can't do anything, right? he asked Koko, just to be sure.

The use of lightning underwater would most certainly have the effect of frying you all to death instantly, so I will endeavor to avoid it.

Much appreciated. Hau sent him a mental eyeroll, to which Koko responded with laughter.

There had to be a different way to approach this. This Tangrowth was a Grass-type and a Poison-type and possibly also a Water-type, according to Hapu's waterproof Pokédex. Sometimes Hau regretted not getting a waterproof Dex or even a waterproof case, because that would have been nice for a lot of things besides this.

Electric attacks were out because he didn't want to die, thanks. Ice wasn't doing much, and Scald probably wasn't going to give the Tangrowth a proper burn when the cave water was quite cold. Fire-type moves just didn't work underwater— well, Overheat might, but Ollie had Flamethrower. Which was stupid, honestly. He should have gotten Flare Blitz or something ages ago. Bug-type moves would have been okay, if Tangrowth wasn't a Poison-type.

Speaking of Poison-typing: Steel wasn't going to do much besides straight-up slashing the kelp, and that was doing exactly nothing already. If they wanted to try Ground-type anything, Hapu was right there; but even her Gastrodon, which could breathe underwater, wasn't doing all that much.

Psychic-type, though. That was a thought.

Hau put one hand on Poppy's slim shoulder to gain her attention, then held up four fingers. She blinked at him for a few moments, then turned and opened her mouth to sing a magenta, sparkling wave toward Tangrowth.

It twitched.

Which was more movement than they'd seen from it so far, if you didn't count severed strands of kelp immediately snaking back to the rocks.

Hapu turned to stare at Hau immediately. Hau didn't know Alolan sign language, so he formed letters by tracing them in the water: P, S, Y.

Her eyes widened behind the goggles, and she nodded adamantly and recalled Gastrodon in favor of... oh, a Claydol. That was new. Another magenta wave rolled out, and Tangrowth twitched again.

Martha spotted what they were doing, and kept Simipour out but let out another Pokémon— oh, Espeon. Nice. And also, a very good idea. Hau let Uila out, bringing the total number of Pokémon that could use Psychic-type moves up to four.

Of course, upping their attacks meant that Tangrowth was going to up its response to said attacks. When four Psychic-type moves smacked into it at once, the kelp began moving— not unlatching, just moving, away from the center of the mass— until a sudden gleam properly revealed, for the first time, round white eyes.

A large bundle of kelp formed on one side, then shot through the water toward Hapu. She was quick to dodge, flippers aiding her as she darted to one side; the Claydol went with her, seemingly unbothered. The kelp-arm didn't stop, snaking toward Hau, Poppy, and Uila— but without his even asking, they both used Psychic at once and it veered sharply away, bending down toward the base of the cave where Martha, Simipour, Espeon, Ricky, and Sharpedo were working.

Sharpedo was quick, and got Ricky out of the way in time. Simipour and Espeon were not so lucky, both struck by the lash of kelp as they protected Martha from the hit. Simipour went limp, body sinking slightly; Martha frowned and recalled him, retreating. Espeon was clearly hurt, swimming back to Martha with a snarl on its face; it braced itself for a few moments before a glowing light surrounded it.

All at once there was a wild blur of motion and Hau felt himself flipped over several times by a current that wasn't there previously. He heard Poppy and Uila making muffled underwater noises (Uila had underwater equipment, as did every other non-Water-type Pokémon who actually needed to breathe) and struggled to orient himself, to find them and adjust.

The Tangrowth had left its position, and was now oddly shaped— kelp streaming backwards from its face in a relatively un-tangled way, for its species. The eyes were now clear and entirely unobstructed, and fixed unerringly on the glowing Espeon, who was staring at it in terror. Martha looked equally intimidated.

It seeks sunlight, said Koko, drawing his attention to a memory of Eeveelution movesets he'd studied in middle school Pokébiology.

Oh, duh! Morning Sun, obviously. Espeon's signature move. Without Martha prompting it, Espeon would of course want to heal itself— especially in a dark place like a cave. The move probably wouldn't do much, but it made sense.

Hau waved frantically at Martha and pointed past her, toward the exit of the tunnel. Her eyes widened and she nodded, carefully reaching out to pull on Espeon's hind leg.

And Tangrowth followed, eyes fixed on Espeon in alarming single-mindedness. Martha had part of the net, and Hau waved at Ricky, Hapu, and the four other people down their with him to follow and stretch the net behind Tangrowth, to prevent it from returning to where it had been.

And finally, the tunnel curved upward, toward the Poni Island sunlight; and Hau could see two faint slender, shield-holding figures, and there was a whirl and a wrench and a violet-and-gold circle expanded in the water above Martha and Espeon.

A screeching cry echoed through the water— Tangrowth, reaching out no longer for Espeon, but for the light above them. Poppy and Uila helped Hau go faster than he might have been able to manage on his own; he could see Ricky's Sharpedo doing the same thing, and Hapu's Claydol— which spun and made a sort of jet propeller, that was freaking cool and he might have to look into getting a Baltoy or something if he really did decide on specializing in Psychic-types.

Also, an Espeon. Because now the Tangrowth was going to be Gramps' problem and therefore his problem, and having an Espeon or some other Pokémon that could use Morning Sun would probably be helpful if it had to be relocated in the future.

Martha and the Espeon were through; the Tangrowth was through; and Hau felt the physical change in the water as he went through. It was not just that Poni Island had cool, brackish, too-salty water— it was that Melemele was warm and felt like home and oh god, that really did make a difference, didn't it? He was home. He was home and here was his power.

The Tangrowth flailed in confusion at the sudden excess of sunlight, and Hau could already see it hunching up in a little ball; so he pulled forward on the net and guided everyone else so that they were pushing the Tangrowth forward with the net. It resisted a bit at first, but Koko and Tapu Fini, in the waters with them, did something and it seemed to relax.

They were in Melemele Bay, outside of the ocean cave off Ten Carat Hill. They were all still underwater, but Hau knew where they were— he just knew. The others seemed a bit disoriented— especially Hapu, and that was interesting and he was definitely going to ask questions about that later— so he kept them on track, guiding their paths toward the cave.

And Gramps— thank you, thank you, thank you Gramps— had set up some large nets to block off any escape, to prevent Tangrowth from drifting elsewhere.

And there was the cave; and in they all went; and it was only slightly dimmer and cooler than the water outside.

You need to speak to it, said Koko.

Me? Shouldn't Gramps—

It will recognize your power, and it is arguably your responsibility.

That was a really good point, actually. Hau swallowed. Okay, how do I do that?

Through me.

And then— it was a very strange sensation— he was aware of a third presence. Okay, a fourth, because something vaguely Gramps-shaped was watching this whole thing, but the fourth presence felt... weird. Not wrong, per se, just weird.

change

Hey! Hi, there, said Hau, trying to sound gentle and encouraging.

confusion

You will need to communicate with simpler concepts. Koko was laughing out loud, somewhere. It isn't very bright.

Gotcha. Hau swallowed again, and tried to think of what to say. The Tangrowth had turned to look at him now, a slight frown in its eyes.

Home, he tried.

Tangrowth's head tilted to one side. glow cave?

No. Hau winced at how caveman-like this conversation probably sounded to Gramps; he was going to be crying laughing later. This cave. Sun cave. Home.

light?

Light, agreed Hau. Feels nice?

confusion

Well, at least he'd tried. Light. Home.

The Tangrowth considered this for a few moments, then a wave of acquiescence swept through it, and it turned to examine its surroundings. There was a small niche in the rock that was below a fairly large hole in the ceiling; there would be bright sunlight shining directly inside for several hours a day and that would hopefully be enough.

light. home. salt not salt. confusion. change. And, after a pause: home.

And with that, it turned its back on Hau and began cramming itself into the niche in the rock.

A warmth that Hau couldn't fully explain swept through him, so strongly that he almost felt like crying; but he was scuba-diving and that would be silly. He made thumbs-up signs at everyone in the cave with them, and they all retreated from the cave to let Tangrowth settle in properly.

* * * * *

"Well, Hapu's initial data recordings were relatively accurate, yeah!" said Professor Kukui brightly, several hours later.

Hau nodded, from where he was lying flat on his back on the ground of the cave. He had actually gone back through the Ultra Wormhole that Koko and Tapu Fini had re-opened, so he could get his phone and the other stuff he'd left on Poni Island; and then he'd promptly taken a Charizard back home. There was still leftover oyster-thief to clean up from the cave, but now that it wasn't going to grow back at horrific speeds Hapu had released him from clean-up duty.

And now he was in the cave he'd just sent Tangrowth to, watching as it had contently crammed into the rock and was now soaking up sunlight from the directly-overhead-high-noon sun; and he was lying on his back on the ground without a shirt on because the second he'd gone back to Poni Island he was exhausted, and coming back to Melemele had helped but Gramps had recommended being in full contact with the island for like, at least a day.

He'd also recommended not wearing pants, but Hau wasn't quite done with people yet and didn't feel like traumatizing anyone else, thank you very much. If he wanted to experience some kind of... uh, all-natural communion with his island he was going to do it in the privacy of the little boulder-blocked meditation area he'd finished setting up with Tapu Koko a few days ago.

"Our readings from the small kelp sample you provided us with indicate that Alolan-form Tangrowth is forty-three percent Grass-type, thirty-nine percent Poison-type, and eighteen percent Water-type. Which means by International Pokédex classification it's Grass and Poison type." Professor Burnet also sounded entirely too cheerful. "But that high Water-type percentage means that it's probably quite similar to Dhelmise."

"What about Dhelmise?" said Hau, staring at the ceiling.

"It's a Ghost- and Grass-type, yeah, but because it adopts the anchor as part of its... uh, genetic construct, it has increased power in the use of Steel-type moves. We'll have to do some additional observation to be certain for Tangrowth, yeah— but from what we've seen so far it's definitely got some boosted Water-type power!"

"What do you mean?"

"We watched it use Water Pulse on a curious Psyduck that swam in from outside to look for a kelpy snack, yeah!"

"Admittedly Water Pulse wasn't going to do much to a Psyduck, but it definitely hit harder," added Professor Burnet. "We'll keep an eye on it for a while, Hau; you did a fantastic job bringing it here."

Hau grinned and tiredly saluted them. "Least I could do, really."

"You need any help getting back to your place?"

"Nah." He sat up, reaching for his shirt and half-heartedly tugging it on before scrambling to his feet. He thought about his sandals for half a second before deciding he preferred the feeling of earth against his bare feet. His earth, against his bare feet. "You think it's settling in okay, then?"

"If it's already defending its home from predators? Absolutely, yeah!" Professor Kukui beamed at him. "It's so fun to find new Alolan forms. Professor Oak is so excited about it, yeah!"

Hau blinked at him. "Like, Professor Oak in Kanto?"

"Nah. I mean his cousin, Samson Oak. He lives right here in Alola, and he studies Alolan-form Pokémon and how they've made environmental adaptations to the climate."

"If you think about it," said Professor Burnet demurely, "Samson might be fairly described as an Alolan-form Professor Oak. They look exactly alike, but Samson has a darker tan and tends to wear floral-print tourist-type shirts."

Hau tried to picture it and cracked up laughing. "Okay, I've got to meet this guy."

"I'm sure he'll want to talk to you as soon as he's had a chance to study Tangrowth a bit, yeah." Professor Kukui grinned. "Seriously, good job today. I think it's— oh, excuse me, she's settling in nicely, so you don't have to worry about her anymore."

And if she causes trouble, I will pinch her with a touch of lightning, murmured Koko in his mind.

"Oh, it's a girl?"

"That's what our scans said, yeah! Which means we're going to want to bring a Ditto here, so we can grow the new population properly."

"Fair enough."

* * * * *

Moon, Lillie, and Aunt Kap all stared at him as he finished telling the story. To be fair, it might, in Lillie's case, have been because he was lying down on the ground in front of Moon's house with his shirt off (though he might just have been flattering himself on that one). In Moon's case it was almost definitely because she clearly wanted to go take a look at Tangrowth right now. And in Kapua's case it was probably because he'd realized about halfway through the story that he was so tired that he hadn't bothered to censor himself about being the next kahuna and had likely dropped enough clues for her to piece it together.

"If you weren't so tired," said Moon finally, "I would think you had hallucinated that entire thing. Or like, smoked some weed that the Skulls grew for you."

"They're not growing weed."

"Well no, not now, but they used to."

"Was it— were you scared?" Lillie's voice was oddly hesitant. "Because you're so tired now, and it sounds as though it could have been scary. Especially when it moved so fast that it spun you around in the water."

"I think part of that was being on Poni Island and not Melemele," admitted Hau. "Like, I can still go to other islands and stuff, but all of this was like... a lot of power. Like, I did a lot today. And talking with Pokémon who can't normally be talked to by humans, that takes a lot out of you. That was so weird, by the way. Gramps was listening in on that and I know he's going to clown me when he gets down here. Like— Tangrowth is a living ball of kelp. Or vines, if you live in Sinnoh or Kanto or whatever. It's not super bright. So I was sort of talking to it like a caveman. Glowy mushroom and coral cave bad, sunny and rocky cave good."

"When Uncle Hala gets here?"

"Yeah, he's walking downhill right now."

A quiet pause met this statement, and Hau mentally reviewed it before realizing what he'd said. That he'd been able to pinpoint Gramps' exact location on the island, and that if he thought hard enough about it he might be able to do the same for anyone he knew on the island and holy shit, he was not thinking about that or he was going to get a headache. He cracked one eye open and peered at Moon, Lillie, and Aunt Kap.

Moon and Lillie were clearly trying not to crack up; Aunt Kap merely looked confused.

"Hau," she said slowly, "are you— going to be the next kahuna? Of Melemele Island?"

Hau grinned at her. "Surprise?"

"Oh." Aunt Kap blinked for a few seconds, then offered him a warm smile. "Well, congratulations. I shouldn't tell anybody, should I?"

"I mean, you can tell Uncle Yo obviously. My family already knows. Well, Gramps does and my parents do, but we haven't quite let Mel and Wiki in on it."

"And we likely will not do so until some time after Gladion returns from Kanto," said Gramps placidly, rounding the corner of the house.

"Hey, Gramps! I definitely just accidentally told Aunt Kap that I was going to be the next kahuna."

"So I heard. I do not think there is anything wrong with that, and since Moon already knew it is good for her to not have to keep that secret." Gramps sat down on the ground next to him and placed something on his forehead that felt both solid and like lightning had just smacked through his limbs.

"What the f—"

"It's Tapukonium Z," said Hala, sounding amused when he sat bolt upright. "I only ever use it for myself if I am well and truly drained, but you are young and unused to the amount of power you wielded today."

The stone fell off and the lightning faded a bit, but Hau picked it up and it was like there were live sparks in his hand.

"Oh my god," he said faintly. "That feels like sticking a fork in an outlet, but without dying."

Moon and Aunt Kap sputtered, but Lillie's giggle rang out clear and crystalline and suddenly the sound of it made him want to do about fifty cartwheels and a hundred front flips and maybe a couple dozen handsprings, and also run like an entire marathon.

"And that," said Gramps to the three of them, as Hau got up and began running in circles on the road, "is why I do not use it very often."

"Why does this work?" yelled Hau, windmilling his arms. "Why am I suddenly full of more energy than I've ever had in my entire life, holy shit?"

"Because as one who is bonded to a Tapu, you are able to share in some of that Tapu's ability to use their Z-Crystal to replenish your natural reserves of energy. Except humans are not quite meant to have this much energy, so it can manifest in... interesting ways."

"So why aren't you running around and freaking out?" Hau tried a a handspring and fell flat on his back; apparently the desire to perform acrobatic feats didn't necessarily include the ability to perform them.

"Because I wore gloves to touch it, and because I am too old to do that sort of thing anymore without hurting myself." Moon, Lillie, and Aunt Kap were all crying laughing, leaning on each other on the porch as Hau made a valiant attempt at a cartwheel. "Not half bad, but keep your legs straight."

"Oh, thanks." Hau tried again and found more success.

"Much better."

"How do you even know how to do a cartwheel?"

"Because I, too, have touched Tapukonium Z. One of the first people to see me in that state was Samantha, and she was on the cheerleading squad when we were in high school—"

"Which would explain the Oricorio!"

"Which would indeed explain the Oricorio," agreed Gramps, amused. "At any rate, she taught me all kinds of acrobatics. I am too old and heavy to demonstrate most of them, but I can probably still manage a few." He rose to his feet, then crouched and tumbled forward in a perfect somersault. And another one, and another one, and another one.

"How many of those in a row can you do?"

"It used to be over twenty, but five is about my limit these days." Gramps straightened, brushing off his shirt with a grin. "Sadly, a standing front flip requires a better relationship with gravity than I currently have; but I should be able to manage this."

He kicked off his sandals, then took several paces back, further down the road. Hau stopped cartwheeling long enough to watch as Gramps began running back towards them. He raised his hands, did a little skip, and launched himself into a cartwheel; except one of his hands came down at a right angle, his feet landed in the opposite direction from which he'd been running, and he immediately launched into one, two, three handsprings before coming to a halt and wincing, putting one hand on his back.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, but my muscles saw fit to remind me that I should probably have stretched first." Gramps chuckled ruefully. "Thankfully I am already in fairly good shape, so I do not think it will present me with much of a problem in the long run."

"Can you teach me to do that?" asked Hau.

"Certainly. So the first part of it is called a round-off, which means that you are doing a cartwheel but twisting your body so that you land facing the opposite way you have come from; and from there I performed three back handsprings. You need to be able to do these things separately before you can perform them together... and now that I consider it, a dirt road is probably not the best place to learn how to do this. Perhaps at some point we may ask to borrow the high school gymnasium after hours."

"Sounds good."

"I'm not sure whether I want to see Hau doing gymnastics or whether I want to see him failing at gymnastics," said Moon.

"Definitely failing," Hau informed her. "I want to see me failing at gymnastics. One of you should come with us just to film it."

* * * * *

Chapter Text

Storm-cloud grey blanketed the night sky, and Guzma kept one eye on the radar and one on the faint light ahead of them. Plumes sat in the co-pilot's seat, looking weirdly tiny without her usual ponytails— he'd watched her gather all of it straight back into a single braid, which she then wrapped with a short length of black fabric before pulling a black beanie low over her brow. He was wearing a beanie as well, and all of his hair was tucked up into it so that they were basically unrecognizable.

And because they couldn't count on Jack for this mission, they had reinforcements, all dressed in all black, sitting quietly in the back of the boat: Raquel, with her purple hair tied and covered like Plumes'; Cassie, wearing hers down because it was a dark enough color to be mistaken for black; Rogelio, a beanie over teal and looking positively tiny next to the rest of them; and somehow, unbelievably: Hau Akiona, also in black and looking very uncomfortable.

"Nobody's explained to me yet what exactly we're doing," Guzma heard him whisper nervously. "It feels like a heist. Is it a heist? Nanu said it wasn't illegal but sometimes I wonder if he's losing it. Or if he's already lost it."

"Honey, we all know that Nanu lost it ages ago," snarked Raquel.

"Everyone shut up, we're cutting the engine and sound carries over water," snapped Plumes.

"Can I give a very brief explanation?" asked Cassie, as Guzma cut the engine.

Plumes sighed. "A very brief one, sure."

Guzma focused on the drive. Manually driving the boat was bullshit, and he hated it; but he was better at it than any of them except for Gladion, who was obviously unavailable.

"So, we're basically kidnapping someone."

"Kidnapping—" yelped Hau.

"Shhh!" said five people at once.

"Okay, oh my god, sorry, I just— seriously? That's illegal!"

"Firstly, the person in question is an adult," said Plumes mildly, turning to stare in disapproval. Guzma guessed the stare was directed at Cassie, for purposefully giving the shittiest explanation possible. Hau wasn't an idiot, but he wasn't exactly subtle, either. "A disabled adult who needs more assistance than can be provided for her in Po Town. Yes, we are removing her from her environment without her consent. However, I'm her medical power of attorney and I'm therefore able to make decisions like that. So it's not, technically, a kidnapping."

There was a long pause. "She's a Skull?" guessed Hau. Guzma bit back a grin. Not subtle, but also not stupid.

"One of the first," said Plumes, and she turned back around in the chair to signal that her role in the conversation was over. Hau asked a few more questions, but they were much quieter and answered by Cassie or Raquel: why didn't they bring her when they first left ("She cut up the straitjacket so there wasn't any way to get her onto the Charizard safely."), what was her name ("Aaliyah, but we usually just call her Liyah."), how old was she ("Twenty-three."), what kind of disability does she have ("Is it really any of your fucking business?").

"No," agreed Hau, to that one. "But I think the answer to that is probably why you brought me along for this."

"He's right," said Rogelio softly, "so you should just tell him. It's not like Liyah will care."

A few moments passed in silence. Guzma could see the single back porch light that Jack had left on. This kidnapping was being done without any help from him, except for three things: he had given Aaliyah some of the good allergy medication in addition to her usual fuckton of drugs before she went to sleep, meaning that she was deeply asleep and hopefully going to stay that way; he had packed all of her clothes and belongings into a trash bag; and he had left the back porch light on, so they could see to drive in. Other than that, he was staying in his room and pretending like he was asleep, so that when Van and the others found out she was gone, he could reasonably claim not to have seen anything. They hadn't told him what they were doing, exactly; but Rogelio said, rather dryly, that Jack wasn't highly intelligent but he had put those three things together to figure out what was going on— because, apparently, he'd also slipped some of the same allergy medication into the dinner of the three lightest sleepers in the house: Emmett, Dalisay, and Jianhong.

Honestly, it was pretty fucking sad to make a kid drug up his own cousin so they could kidnap someone without risking waking anybody up. Guzma felt his mood darkening and forced himself to focus.

"You mean he would have—" Hau's horrified whisper broke through his train of thought.

"In an instant," said Raquel grimly.

"Like he would have been kind and everything," clarified Cassie. "Tomo was like, weirdly fucking romantic? But the lack of a yes is still a no, and Liyah is mentally like, five or fifteen depending on the day. Hopefully she's five when she wakes up, because fifteen-year-old-brain Liyah is usually just cussing us out and screaming."

"Oh my god," said Hau faintly. "Like— mentally a five-year-old? He really would have..."

"Yeah. He would have." There was a pause. "But Plumeria emptied most of a revolver into him when he showed up, so he's very fucking dead and thankfully going to stay that way."

Guzma thought of undead Foxglove, but Hau just choked on air.

"How about you all shut up now," said Plumes, her voice slightly terse. "Like I said, sound carries over water, and we're getting close."

Ah, right: Plumes had really not liked killing Tomo. That had been some messy shit. Guzma reached out with his free hand and patted her carefully on the knee. He felt her jump, but after a few seconds, when he made to retreat, he felt her slim hand brush over his briefly: thank you.

He smiled, without looking at her: you're welcome.

Guzma was, thankfully, staying on the boat. He brought it to a halt as close in to the shore as he could, and Plumes beckoned to Hau, Cassie and Raquel. "Come on, out you go."

"We can't get any closer?" said Hau. "I'm heavy, it's going to splash pretty loud—"

"You'll be fine, nobody will hear it over the rain."

"If you say so."

Guzma watched them go, and Rogelio silently slipped up to the front to sit in Plumes' vacated co-pilot seat.

"How is he?"

Rogelio blinked at him.

"Jack," clarified Guzma. "How's he holding up?"

"Oh." Rogelio blinked a few times. "Liyah's been stressing him out, so he'll probably be really grateful when he learns what's actually happened to her."

"We're telling him?"

"Plumeria says we tell him so that he doesn't worry, and because he can definitely tell Van as a show of good faith and then Van can't get pissed off at him."

Guzma nodded. "Good thing she's the brains of this operation."

"You're not stupid," said Rogelio instantly, and Guzma stared at him until he colored. "I mean— I constantly have to hear Jer and Almas and Molly going on about how they're dumb, but they're not. Jer is quick as a fucking whip, he just couldn't focus before he was medicated for ADHD. Almas is so nervous most of the time but when he's relaxed he's smart. And Molly always says she's dumb but she's not, if she were dumb you wouldn't have put her in charge of so much stuff. So I get— I don't like when people say they're stupid."

"And Jack probably says he's stupid a whole lot, right?"

Rogelio flushed even deeper, but nodded.

"Well, Plumes can probably help you with that better than I can. She's the one dealing with me saying I'm a dumbass. But I know I'm not dumb."

"Y-you do?"

"What do you think all my fuckin' therapy's been for," snorted Guzma, and was highly gratified when a nervous giggle squeaked out of the kid's mouth. "I'm not dumb. I didn't do well in high school because I couldn't test for shit. And the whole dyslexia thing, and my dad hitting me in the head, those were not exactly great for, y'know, retaining information. So my memory's like a fuckin' sieve, I can focus about as much as unmedicated Jer on a good day, and reading is too damn hard to bother with if I can let Plumes do it for me. But if I repeat something out loud to myself enough times, or if I keep voice reminders on my phone— I got no problem keeping up with the rest of you guys."

Rogelio offered him a soft, trembling smile. "I'm glad therapy's been working well for you."

Guzma reached out to pat him on the shoulder. "Me too, kid. Me fucking too."

He spotted movement by the house and realized it was the others, exiting. Cassie in the lead with a knife out, warily looking around; Hau, the tallest, carried a limp figure wrapped up in blankets; Plumes had a big trash bag on her back. Raquel brought up the rear with another knife.

"All right, kid, you stay here and make sure nothing changes with the boat." Guzma got to his feet.

"Um— okay."

He poked his head out of the small cabin hatch, watching them approach. Cassie spotted him first and offered a thumbs-up sign: all had gone well. She moved to the side, waving Hau forward.

"All right, hand her up."

Hau lifted the bundled figure until Guzma could get two arms around it, and it took most of his strength but he pulled Liyah into the boat and did his best to haul her out of the way so the others could climb in. Hau went first, then turned back to take the trash bag from Plumes before chucking it in the corner and getting Liyah onto the couch properly. The others climbed in and Guzma returned to the pilot's seat.

After a few minutes, Plumes joined him. "Let's haul ass," she muttered. "I had this creepy feeling when we were outside. I don't think anyone was watching, except maybe Aether running Nanu's old surveillance detail, but I don't like it."

Guzma hadn't felt anything creepy but he nodded, and began manually driving the boat away from Ula'ula's waters. For about half a mile everyone was silent, listening for any sign that they'd been discovered; but once they were further out he started the engine, and they began putting more distance between themselves and Po Town. Everyone else on the boat seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief as he did so, and he felt his own heart lightening in response.

* * * * *

He was waiting with Plumes in Liyah's hospital room. They'd taken her straight to medical, because they would need to do tests. At Plumes' insistence, they'd restrained her and made the doctors leave.

"Look, she's going to wake up and flip the hell out," she said flatly, when the doctors protested. "She is twenty-three and she's taller and heavier than me, and she's had martial arts training. She's also brain-damaged and has no judgemental skills about whether a situation is safe or not. She's going to wake up, see an unfamiliar environment and people she hasn't seen in like, four months. And if she isn't restrained, she may accidentally fucking kill someone, because she is strong enough to do that."

At this Wicke had intervened, which was pretty nice of her. "Ms. Sauvageot is Miss Clarke's medical power of attorney," she said smoothly to the doctors. "She also has more experience with Miss Clarke than you do. I suggest you take her advice. Overkill is rather better than underpreparation, don't you think?"

After that, they'd been left pretty much alone. Liyah had cuffs at her wrists and ankles, soft ones that wouldn't hurt her if she pulled on them. She was still in her pajamas instead of a gross fucking hospital gown. Plumes had fallen asleep on her chair, leaning on his shoulder. They'd sent the kids to bed, but Guzma was damned if he was going to leave Liyah all alone in the hands of a bunch of doctors she didn't know.

There was a soft groan from the bed, and Plumes stirred at once, sitting up straight.

"Liyah?" she said. "Liyah, honey, are you awake?"

" 'M 'wake," mumbled Liyah. "Thirsty."

Guzma breathed a sigh of relief. That was little-kid Liyah, pliable and sweet-natured.

"Okay, honey. We'll get you something for that." Plumes beckoned at Guzma, and he rose to get a plastic cup of water from the little bathroom on the side.

"Mmkay."

Guzma returned with the water, and Plumeria took it, holding it up. "Here, open your mouth. I've got some water for you." Her eyes blinked half-open, and she squinted blearily at the ceiling. Plumeria moved so she was in Liyah's line of sight, holding up the water.

"Plumeria?"

"Yep, it's me."

"Where'd you go?"

Plumeria hesitated. "I had to go away for a couple of months," she said truthfully. "But I came back and got you, so it's okay now. Here, drink up."

She held the cup to Liyah's lips, and Liyah took an obedient sip.

"Better?"

"Mhm. Where'm I?"

"You're in a hospital room in Aether Paradise," said Plumeria. "Guzma and I came and got you from Po Town last night. It's not safe there anymore, so we brought you here."

"Not safe," mumbled Liyah. "Not safe. Don't go outside by yourself, Liyah. Foxes could getcha. Stay in with Yaya or Dal or Jacky."

"Is that what Jack told you to do?"

"Mhm." Her eyes opened fully: light brown, the color of sunlight filtering through whiskey. Guzma was trying and so far succeeding in staying sober, but Liyah's eyes always made him think of alcohol because they reminded him that she wasn't all there, not really. Not anymore. "He was real nice, even when I was bad. He did the—" She yawned. "—the thing, that Guzma always did. When I was bad. With the arms and legs and keeping me still so you could hug me quiet. He did the arms and legs and Yaya and Dal did the hugs. Not as good as you, but they were nice to me."

Damn. Guzma was going to hug the shit out of Jack the next time he saw him. Maybe buy him an entire weight room.

"That was really nice of them," agreed Plumeria, in a tone that suggested she might be getting a bit choked up. Guzma got to his feet, maybe a bit too quickly because Liyah flinched, but then relaxed when she realized it was him.

"Hi, Guzma," she said, staring at him. "Where'd you go?"

"I made a mistake and had to go away," said Guzma, because it was the truth. "But I fixed it, so Plumeria and I could come and get you."

"Mmkay." Liyah yawned again. " 'M I gonna be in a hospital forever now?"

"Oh, honey, no. We're just going to bring in a doctor to give you a checkup. As long as you don't need anything else, then you can come back to where we're staying. We've got you your own room, and we brought all of your stuff. Jer and Moonie and Al are putting up your posters, and Trinh and Lani are putting your clothes away. We got you some new bedsheets and blankets."

"Really?"

Plumeria's eyes were so, so soft. "Really truly."

"Cool."

"Is it okay if we bring in the doctor now?"

"Mhm."

Guzma went to the door and poked his head out. There were three anxious doctors hovering, and they all made steps toward him before he held up his hand in warning. "One of you," he said, making no effort to gentle his voice or facial expression. "Just one."

"We all specialize in something different," protested one of the doctors. "I'm a general physician but according to her medical records she needs a neurologist and a psychiatrist as well."

"Then you're the one coming in, and if you find anything suspicious we can let her know there will be more doctors. But we are not fucking overwhelming her, okay? Not today. She's in a good mood and as long as you're polite and cheerful and don't act like a fucking robot like most doctors do, she will stay that way and not try to kill anyone." They all looked mutinous. Guzma sighed. "Fine, you can come in and I will leave this door open so the other two can eavesdrop. Do not come in without permission, or I will break your fucking kneecaps."

They all glared, but did as he asked; and Guzma left the door open a crack as promised. The general physician pasted a smile on her face.

"Hello, you must be Aaliyah!" she said brightly. "I'm Dr. Price. How are you feeling?"

Liyah considered for a few moments. "I'm thirsty," she said. "And fucking starving."

Uh-oh. Guzma exchanged a worried glance with Plumes. That was what Plumes called a "linguistic shift," which basically meant if Liyah starts swearing it means she's going to be in cranky teenager mode in a few minutes.

"Well, I'll do my checkup and then we'll see about getting you something to eat, okay?"

"Mmkay."

But they still had a few minutes— another linguistic shift was "mmkay" versus "okay." If she said "okay" they were going to be in trouble. Guzma went back to his chair.

To Dr. Price's credit, she stayed cheerful and even explained what she was doing to Liyah as she went. Liyah asked a few questions at first and even smiled, but slowly the smile was beginning to fade from her face, and a slight frown creased her brows.

Plumes, out of Liyah's line of sight, signaled to Dr. Price to wrap it up. Dr. Price didn't appear to react, but she did offer Liyah a final smile. "All right, I think we're done here. You're good to go."

"Fuckin' finally," muttered Liyah, and there it was.

"Thanks, doc," said Guzma, gesturing for the woman to go. "We'll take it from here. Liyah, you want to go get something to eat and then go see your room?"

Liyah eyed him suspiciously for a few moments. "I guess."

"Great. Let's get you outta here."

Guzma and Plumes had a system for Liyah. Little-kid Liyah responded better to Plumes, and while teenager Liyah didn't respond well to anyone, Guzma could at least hold his own in a pissing contest, which was a lot of what Liyah did. He took the key from Plumes and undid the wrist restraints first, and then passed it back so she could do the ankle restraints.

A solid fist slammed into his stomach, but Guzma had been expecting this so he was braced for it and merely grabbed her wrist. "Hey now, that's not nice."

"I don't fucking care!" snarled Liyah, pulling hard. "You went away, so fuck you anyway!"

Guzma gritted his teeth. "It was a mistake," he said carefully. "And I won't be fucking doing it again, okay? I'm going to stay with you."

"I don't fucking want you to! Let go of me!"

He caught her other wrist before she could scratch him. Plumes had both of Liyah's knees, keeping them together so she couldn't do anything with her legs.

"No," he said quietly. "Liyah, you need to calm down. You're not being nice."

"No, fuck you! Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck this let me go—"

He pulled Liyah off the bed and forced her to sit on the ground. She tried to squirm away but he wrestled her into a half nelson hold from behind and brought his legs over hers so she couldn't kick.

"No no no no no no no no—"

"Liyah," said Plumes— oh god she was crying. Plumes had only cried the first few times they'd implemented what Liyah had called the arms and legs and keeping me still so you can hug me quiet— or in other words, Guzma putting her in a fucking wrestling submission hold while Plumes tried to calm her down. "Liyah, it's okay. Liyah, I'm here."

"You went away!" screamed Liyah. "You left me! You left me there! You left me in that shitty place!"

"I'm sorry, Liyah." Plumes knelt, between his and Liyah's legs, and wrapped her arms around both of them. "I'm sorry. I know we hurt you, and that was wrong. Please let us make it up to you."

"You're lying," gasped Liyah, but her voice was already quieter. "You're lying, you're liars, you said you wouldn't leave me ever and you left me and you're fucking liars, I hate you—"

"Yes," said Guzma suddenly, and both Liyah and Plumes froze. "Yes, Liyah. I'm a fucking liar. I lied to you."

"G," said Plumes, appalled.

"Fuck you!" screeched Liyah.

"Shut up and listen for a second. You're an adult, and you know you've got some problems but you're fine, okay? You're alive and healthy and safe. And guess what? I made a fucking mistake, Liyah. We all make mistakes, all the time. Every fucking person on this fucking planet makes mistakes. But I realized I made a mistake, and I came back to fix it. And we came back to get you as soon as we could. You're fine. We're not going to leave you if you don't want us to go, okay?"

"Then fucking go! I don't want you—"

"Would you rather just have the fucking doctors?" snapped Guzma. "Arceus fucking hell, just listen for a minute. The doctors ain't gonna be nice. The doctors are going to keep you in the cuffs all the time, and they're going to pump you full of drugs to shut you up, or they're going to put you in a straitjacket."