The idea of heading outside was as exciting as it was worrisome.

Even putting the purely logistical issues aside—Anne felt a bit better than yesterday evening, but doubted she was strong enough to walk unassisted—she was still unsure about some things. Her brief walk alongside Aria was more terrifying than either of them could’ve predicted, for many reasons. Some of them obvious, some… much less so.

Would she still be so terrified of the passersby in the daylight? Would the self-consciousness about being seen to be afraid of them without a good reason immediately start pummeling her? Would she make an embarrassing spectacle of herself because of difficulties walking?

Neither Anne nor anyone else had any answers to these questions.

Either way, she lived here now, and would have to go outside, eventually. Her current company was the best she could’ve asked for in these uncertain conditions. It was just a matter of gathering the courage, pushing through these worries, and daring to venture into the vast unknown beyond these four-ish walls she’d spent the past few days in.

Said action took about fifteen seconds of consideration, but they were some of the more intense fifteen seconds in Anne’s life.

With that settled, Anne began her slow routine of preparing to brave the outside, a more awkward one than she’d expected it to be. Sure, Autumn had her shawl, but that was a matter of moments as opposed to the minutes it took the human girl to slide into everything needed.

Especially without help, which would’ve made it all ten times more uncomfortable.

Thin, but still-holeless socks, muddied shoes, reasonably thick jeans, an old sweater she got from grandma Lisa and stretched so much over the years she still fit it. A jacket would’ve been a good idea too, but her current one had the double issue of being stashed somewhere else in the village, and being soaked in blood.

They’d all have to learn how to clean Anne’s array of clothes eventually, ha.

But that was then, and now the sweater was perfectly sufficient—especially when combined with Ember refusing to let go of her and Autumn’s Safeguard. Finally, after some of the most self-conscious few minutes of her life, Anne was ready to head out.

And the village hidden in the Unovan woods greeted her with snow and interesting architecture.

She wasn’t ever the one to pay a lot of attention to buildings, but it was hard not to notice the sheer diversity of shapes and materials on display here. Canvas, logs, thick planks reinforced with tar, stones, fired bricks—even dirt and mud; the snow capping the diligently kept mounds left them hard to spot at a glance.

Almost all of them were quite a bit smaller than any houses in Mylock, but she supposed it made sense—they had to hide from humanity, after all.

...

And they probably didn’t have that much stuff that needed to be stored...

The thought stung, snapping Anne back to her surroundings as Ember held her good arm that bit tighter. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t run from the reality of the villagers’ opinion of her forever. Grabbing the Braixen’s paw, the human took a deep breath as their group turned around the corner, ready to face the leers and snarls ahead—

And finding... curiosity.

Granted, she wasn’t a body language expert even for humans, let alone for the over dozen species in eyeshot, but she couldn’t spot anything that felt threatening. There were some wary looks, sure. A few passersby looked away from her; a couple glared at her for a split second before noticing her company—but nothing more than that.

Which didn’t help as much as Anne hoped it would.

The awareness of not knowing what a threat display would even look like refused to be shaken off, undermining any relief trying to form in her mind. A part of her clung to it with all its strength, not wanting to let go of it, of the familiar fear tied to it. Not now, not ever. Alas, she didn’t have the privilege of being able to spend her life without ever facing her fears.

The realization sparked just enough courage for her to up her pace a bit, and the rest of the group followed suit. Whether this confidence was a pretense that would fizzle the moment it was needed, not even she knew.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Anne that had to be reassured the most.

The quiet whimpers coming from her left clued her to Sage’s uncertainty—as did the ghostie retreating into the well-worn fabric of her sweater. With her broken arm kept underneath that topmost layer, she couldn’t physically comfort the younger girl—aside from talking to her, that is. “~Are you okay, Sage?~” she asked.

The Phantump jumped at the sound before redoubling her cuddling efforts, her voice wavering, “~Y-yeah...~”

“~You sound quite scared.~”

While Sage didn’t react to Anne acknowledging the obvious, Yaksha did. Without waiting for elaboration, the Banette caught up with the two girls and checked up on the lil’ ghost, before sighing in relief at her being unharmed. As he gathered words, Anne glanced over her shoulder—and spotted nobody following them. Hadn’t Cinder left together with them all?

“~Sage, did something happen?~” the Banette asked intently, trying and failing to pry his ward away from the human’s comforting presence.

The ghostie tried to shake her head with as much confidence as she was capable of, only for each motion to grow more and more hesitant, anyway. “~It’s scary here,~” she whimpered. “~When can we go home, Mr. Yaksha?~”

The pleading in her squeaky, ethereal voice was both hard to miss and even harder to respond to in a way that wouldn’t upset her more. “~I told you, Sage, we’re planning to do that later today. As... Autumn said, we will need help, and we’re walking to ask a local for said help,~” Yaksha explained. Despite his best effort to keep his exasperation under control, some of it still spilled out to his chagrin.

“Yeah! Don’t worry Sage, Mr. Marco will help you both out very soon!” Ember cheered, excited.

While her words wouldn’t have helped much by itself, the vixen accompanied them with pulling Sage into a small hug, her warmth calming the young girl down. Once she felt a bit better, Sage squeaked out, “~O-okay. Thank you...~”

As the Phantump warmed up and the Banette stifled his bitter murmurs at being unable to help the girl yet again, Anne brought up an obvious-in-hindsight question. Sure, she didn’t know what the villagers thought of her, but someone else did—someone walking just a few feet ahead of them, even. “~Mrs. Autumn?~”

The girl swore she saw the Psychic-type’s horns perk up a bit as she caught her attention. She didn’t have the time to consider the implications of that observation as the Indeedee turned around and responded with a smile, “^Yes, Anne? Doing alright, sweetie?^”

Either binary answer would’ve been at least a partial lie. And so; Anne dodged the question, instead asking, “~I-I wanted to ask. How did everyone... r-react to me staying? I know it was quite late last evening when that whole discussion happened...~”

Every word drained the girl of more and more confidence she kept trying to stuff herself with. Before the earlier worries could strike back, though, Autumn reassured her, “^Rather well from what I picked up on this morning. Sure, there were some disgruntled voices, but we could find a wellspring of honey and wine and there would still be complainers. Nothing that hasn’t happened before, don’t you worry Anne.^”

It was right about the response Anne’s rational part expected, and having it be spoken by someone else helped keep her nerves from getting the better of her again. Much to her surprise, though, Autumn wasn’t done yet. “^Though in all truth, most people’s thoughts seemed and still seem more focused on what Marco brought up at the vote, about us having to relocate eventually.^”

The sudden swerve in the discussion took Anne and Ember aback, especially with such a heavy and worrisome topic. The Braixen didn’t remember hearing about it yesterday. Then again, the only thing her tired mind could focus on last evening was keeping tabs on her human’s wellbeing. She asked, confused, “Wh-why would we have to move, Autumn? A-aren’t we safe here? A-and there’s a lot of food...”

The Indeedee gave the Braixen a small smile as she tried to reason with the very uncomfortable reality. For once, it was her turn to cling to her human instead of the other way around as the Indeedee responded, her words shocking both girls, “^It’s not because of that sweetie, it’s because the humans are making maps from the sky, and those maps have already seen us.^”

Autumn wasn’t entirely sure about her explanation, most of it lifted straight from Marco who himself only had a partial understanding of it at best. As Ember struggled to make any sense of it, the Indeedee looked to Anne, hoping that her knowledge of human stuff would help translate that abstract description into something more concrete for them all.

Which... it didn’t, not initially. Anne struggled with parsing the explanation more than either she or the Indeedee expected. They both knew that if anyone of their group could understand what Marco was referring to, it was her. And yet it just wasn’t—

...

...

Maps from the sky.

Photos from the sky.

Oh shit.

The human girl’s timidness only made the inward expletive hit harder for the psychic. It confirmed at least one part of this worrisome enigma—Marco wasn’t exaggerating; this was serious.

“~I-I think I know what that means, and if it is what—what I think it is, then that is scary, yes.~”

Anne couldn’t identify with the village enough to grow as subconsciously mortified at that knowledge as others—not yet. That didn’t make it any less scary at a purely intellectual level, though. Her confirmation made the Braixen beside her shake even harder and cling to her human.

“^Don’t you worry, Ember,^” Autumn chimed. “^We’re already slowly planning our move; we’ll do everything we can to remain safe. I won’t deny, it’ll be a difficult time for us all, but better to migrate voluntarily while we still can than be forced to run when we least expect it.^”

The Indeedee’s smile did wonders in melting the vixen’s worries, her shaking easing as her one-eyed gaze alternated between the fellow psychic and her best friend. Once she felt a bit calmer, she responded, “O-okay, thank you, Autumn... wh-when will we have to leave?”

Even with the immediate terror gone, nerves remained, the kind only time could ever help with. And for better or worse, time was something they still had plenty of. Autumn explained, “^Oh, nowhere soon sweetie. Last I heard, even just planning it all will be a multi-Moon undertaking. The last thing we wanna do is to leave only to run face-first into more danger, after all. Either way, not something for you two to fret about. We can handle it, alright?^”

It was much easier for Ember to settle her worries about that topic than for Anne, and even the vixen couldn’t help but fret. Ultimately, Autumn was right—the Braixen trusted her fellow villagers, especially the adults, to keep them all safe.

Something Anne had immense difficulties with. Little she could do about it at the moment though, trying to distract herself away from the unpleasant topic. Once more, she dared to look around, this time deliberately skipping faces or anything else that might inspire further doubt.

They were looking for Marco, might as well try to play the game of “Spot the Gallade”.

The next few minutes were spent in silence as everyone’s nerves cooled off at varying speeds. Whereas the melodic, almost singing-like noises they heard in the distance made Ember relax—the Braixen even trying to hum along with them for a moment—they only brought further discomfort to Sage by being so loud and so very inhuman, and provided more fuel for thought for Anne.

She hadn’t made any serious attempts to listen to the village’s language yet, immediately discarding that entire idea as infeasible. And yet, she’d have to learn it eventually anyway—it or another way of communicating with the villagers. How she would do that, she had no idea—but again, maybe Autumn did?

“^Yes I do, sweetie~,^” the Indeedee giggled. “^Well, as far as just our, or I guess more accurately Orion’s language goes, it’s focused much more on tones and cadence than it is on the actual sounds being made. Not everyone knows how to trill, but almost everyone can make something similar to it, for example. Add the changes in pitch, space it out the right way, and voilà—completely different species can suddenly talk! After a few months of learning and many years of practice, of course, but it’s so much better than not having that, believe me.^”

Anne wasn’t sure which took her aback more—Autumn chiming in so abruptly, or her brief linguistic explanation. It didn’t make anywhere near as much sense as the girl wished it had, but the gist was straightforward. They were all using the same language, and there was a way for her to learn it.

And if it was generous enough with pronunciation to allow both Torkoal and Decidueye to speak it, then her getting the hang of it was only a matter of time. She hoped. She really, really hoped.

“Doncha worry, sweetie. Once you settle in, you’ll probably be attending the nursery together with Bell for a while—Jovan and Pearl will get you talking in no time!” Autumn reassured. Her switch away from telepathy and to ‘just’ telepathically translated speech took Anne aback for a moment, but she appreciated it all the same.

Even if she was much too overstimulated to try breaking the squeaked, hummed, and growled utterances down into their individual components.

The Indeedee wasn’t done yet, giggling, “Oh goodness, just the mental image... all the little ones listening in and then you beside them, taller than even their teachers, teehee...” Any attempts at keeping her composure soon faded as one burst of giggles gave way to another, until the chubby psychic had to cover her mouth with her paw.

Ember wasn’t far behind in that regard—and for once, neither was Anne. There was some anxiety about sticking out from a group like that and earning undue attention as a result, but hopefully, the height difference would shrink a lot once she sat down. And besides, her chat with Pearl the previous evening was nothing if not pleasant. It would be alright—

*CRASH!*

The harsh sound echoed from around the corner, hitting the entire party differently. Autumn and Ember barely acknowledged it, only coming to a stop once they noticed Anne had frozen mid-step. Sage fared a little better than the living girl, dashing to hide behind her older friend.

A moment later, Yaksha stood in front of the group, shadowy hands clenching in anticipation of having to put himself on the line for the Phantump. Before Autumn could have a chuckle at his expense for overreacting, the hauntling aired the question that was on half the group’s mind, “~What was that?~”

“I have a good guess—yep, it’s these two.”

Autumn’s mid-sentence shift made everyone look toward where the sound came from—though the sight of a Scizor walking from around the corner and dragging a massive, half-broken metal contraption would’ve done the same even without her nudge. Another Steel-type followed him moments later; the Mawile making up for their much smaller stature through constant, audible grumbling. Their frustration was obvious despite the language barrier—but that didn’t extend to the sounds they made once they glanced at Anne.

Before anyone could react, the bleeding knee-high fairy made a beeline for the human; Anne’s mind only avoided jumping to the ‘flight’ option because of being was stuck on ‘freeze’. A few moments later, more of Mawile’s noises—growls, clicks, even whistles, but with no meaning to back any of it up. Thankfully, the Indeedee soon noticed she’d forgotten to link the tinkerer menace to their group—and understanding soon followed.

Or at least, as much understanding as anyone could’ve ever extracted out of Mikiri. “Human! How is that thing supposed to stop?”

Anne’s terrified brain took a moment to realize she’d actually heard coherent words this time, and even longer to parse them. Not a threat, just a question. A question about ‘that thing’, whatever it was—wait, the bike? “~U-uh... d-do you mean the bike?~” Anne asked, daring to relax her body a bit as she eyed over the... peculiar-looking bicycle a few meters away, the Scizor carrying it wordlessly observing the entire exchange from a distance.

The Mawile answered, “Yes, the two-wheel! How is it supposed to stop?” The steady trickle of rust-colored blood down her face wasn’t as terrifying with their intentions not having anything to do with her, but the sight remained unnerving.

Not a question Anne ever expected to be asked, especially not in a place like this—but one she, for once, knew an answer to. “~O-oh, there’s supposed to be—~” she began, only for her attempted explanation to becut off by the bloodied Mawile turning around and dragging the damaged contraption in question over, making valiant progress despite her underwhelming stature.

And letting the human girl notice all the parts that had been attached to it through more or less scuffed means. Certain parts were wrapped with wire, a few rust-covered pieces of metal were welded to the steering column, and an assortment of junk was tangled in the spokes of the front wheel in ways that felt at best too intelligent for her feeble mind to understand, and at worst, like the machinations of a meth head.

Anne had a very hard time deciding which of these two groups the Mawile before her reminded her more of.

“Where? Where’s the thing that’s supposed to stop it!?” The Fairy-type asked, her gaze jumping all over before she spotted Anne’s good hand. It was pointing towards the front of the vehicle while trying its absolute hardest to not come closer to the Mawile than it absolutely had to. “This?”

The entire once-bicycle creaking like it was about to fall apart after the little two-faced creature shook it by the steering handle sure didn’t inspire much confidence in Anne. “~No, there’s the small lever to the side—~”

Before she could even finish, the tinkerer before her had spotted the mechanical part in question and pressed on it. After that accomplished nothing, they then repeated that with one hand while trying to spin the front wheel with the other one—which it did freely.

Anne gulped at the realization, once more having to fight an impulse to back off. Shoot, shoot, shoot, why did that not work? The brakes must’ve been broken, but that’s not what the girl was worried about. She’d just given them advice, and it didn’t work at all. Didn’t matter that she wasn’t knowingly lying; the Mawile wouldn’t appreciate her words turning out false—

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“Okay, so this is the broken part, then. There’s this cable that goes down down down and some of it is dangling from this bit beside the wheel, but they’re not connected and should be. Gotta untie all that and take a better look at what goes on in there...” the Mawile muttered. For a few long moments, the entire world, aside from the roughly bike-shaped pile of assorted junk, ceased to exist for her. It was only Autumn’s mental nudge that brought her back to awareness of her immediate surroundings—a scared human, an unamused Indeedee, an even more unamused Scizor, a curious Phantump, a disgruntled Banette, and a confused Braixen.

Oh right, that first one was still there—and would be staying here; that’s what the entire hubbub yesterday was about. Mikiri figured it’d be appropriate to say something, then, “Iiiiii will take a closer look at that in my workshop. And you...” she turned to face the human beside her, their eyes growing that bit wider, “...thanks. Glad that you’re staying, knew the Elders were just making a show of nothing. Anywho, there’s a bunch of your stuff still at my burrow if you want it back—OH!”

After the Mawile had changed the subject three separate times in thirty seconds, Anne was left too stunned to do anything but stand and stare, hoping she hadn’t unknowingly made a gaffe. Thankfully for her, the words that followed weren’t about anything like that.

Unfortunately, they weren’t about anything she was comfortable answering, either. “That two-wheel of yours is also at my burrow, fixed the wheel if you’ll be needing it—willyoubeneedingit?” the Mawile asked with a glint in her eye, the final few words smeared together to the point of nigh-incomprehension despite Autumn’s help. Just what kind of glint it was, though, Anne had no idea nor any desire to find out.

There also remained... another issue. “~Th-thank you! B-but, that’s not my bike, I... took it when running away—~” Anne stammered, worrying about being judged for what was technically grand theft—only for the metal fairy to neither notice nor care about that.

“But will you be needing it?”

Off to the side, Autumn and Ori facepalmed in perfect sync, the clunk of the latter echoing throughout the small intersection.

“~I-I don’t think so—~”

“Perfect! Thanks again! Time to get a move on Ori, got the brakes to fix! There’s this small metal wire inside this black stretchy casing on both ends; I’m wondering if just welding it the normal way will work or will we—*thump*”

Before the Mawile could get further than about four steps toward her burrow, she fell face-first into the snow without as much as another word. For a few moments, everyone waited for her to pull off yet more wild antics, most onlookers backing off just in case. And yet, Mikiri remained immobile for once in her life.

Once Autumn checked what was going on with her other senses... yeah, it wasn’t hard to see why. “She fainted.”

The Indeedee had to use utmost willpower to not chuckle as she said these words. Even then, she didn’t manage to maintain her seriousness for much longer, especially once Ori dashed over to pick up his partner in crime and rush her to the healers’ tent, leaving the mockery of a bicycle where it lay and letting it gather even more rust.

Hers was hardly a unique reaction, laughter of all sorts filling the scene soon after. That didn’t extend to Sage and especially not Anne, the latter much more worried than amused. “~Wh-what happened to her?~”

“If I had to guess, blood loss. Doubt there’s a ton of it in her to begin with, and this is hardly the only time in the past few days she got herself messed up without resting nearly as much as she should’ve. Won’t say that she deserved it or anything of that sort, but... she kinda brought it on herself,” the Indeedee chuckled, tilting her head for the group to resume its trek.

“~She looked like she needed a doctor.~”

Neither Autumn nor Anne could resist smiling at the Phantump’s wording. The former explained, “Oh, she does, Sage, for so many reasons. But when the bits of genius within her crawl out of... everything else inside her, it’s something else alright.”

The older girl was especially glad that Sage still had that innocence to her, despite having gone through so much pain. And with them getting going and the ghostie on her mind, her thoughts veered back to the undertaking discussed back at the healers’ tent.

“~E-excited about going back to your home, Sage?~” Anne asked, maintaining the upbeat tone for exactly long enough to finish saying that sentence out loud, and not an instant longer—not at what her mind had to say to the idea of a reunion like that.

She wasn’t the only one with concerns about it all, but the ones Sage had in mind weren’t... the same as Anne’s. “~Yeah! I really wanna see my mom again, and say sorry for scaring her like this...~”

Without taking another step, Autumn dropped everything she was thinking about and turned to comfort the undead girl, with Anne and Ember following soon after. Sage wasn’t feeling bad enough to warrant that, leaving her a bit confused. But hugs were hugs, and she liked hugs! So all was well.

“None of what happened was your fault, Sage, I promise,” Autumn sad, looking the Phantump straight in the eyes. This was a worry nobody ought to ever have to deal with, especially not a child this young and innocent.

Anne wanted to chime in, too.

Sage deserved all the reassurance in the world, to be comforted about the worry she’d raised. No, her mom wouldn’t be mad at her for scaring her, obviously not. Anne wanted to go further, to reassure the girl that her mom wouldn’t mind her daughter for looking like this now either, but... she couldn’t.

The thought felt like her mind had been bitten by a poisonous mon, worry and doubt spreading through her brain with each heartbeat. She wished that Sage’s parents would accept their daughter with all their hearts, but she didn’t have that confidence. If anything, she had its exact opposite—she had a hard time imagining a human in the situation of Sage’s parents not growing furious or horrified at some random ghost claiming to be their dead child.

Anne hadn’t ever heard anything about humans coming back as ghosts.

Other mons sure—but all her biology classes always excluded humans specifically. She now knew that it wasn’t true, and that humans weren’t special in that regard, but most people didn’t. Hell, even if the Phantump’s parents did know that, trying to imagine their reaction to a ghost approaching them with what sounded like the world’s most cruel taunt made Anne shudder.

It was too terrifying to think about, and she had no idea what to say.

She couldn’t have been the only one struggling with these doubts, right? And yet, nobody else had mentioned anything about them—not Autumn, not Yaksha, not Cinder. She wanted to bring them up, but didn’t know when. Ideally when Sage wasn’t paying attention—but, then again, wasn’t that the worst possible time for a truth bomb like that? Didn’t Sage deserve to know what she was getting into?

The uncomfortable, harrowing thoughts churned inside Anne’s mind as the group marched on, trying their hardest to find a way out and yet being unable to. She was sure that if she thought about Autumn intensely enough, she’d have picked up on it, but she didn’t want the Phantump to notice—at least not now.

What an awful mess.

The muck inside her head made it hard to pay attention to anything outside her head, leaving Anne to just walk on autopilot. Her eyes took in the imposing brick building of Holly’s pantry, the large open tent that quite a few children were sleeping under, but the imagery didn’t sink into her mind; too busy spinning in place.

She wasn’t sure when they had all changed their course to another of the closed tents, but the sweet herbal scents emanating from it were pleasant enough to snag at least some of Anne’s attention—especially when combined with what sounded like Marco’s voice coming from the inside.

Once they all stepped in, Autumn and Ember exchanged a few waves with the assorted mons sitting on the benches as the Gallade turned to face them all, surprised at the impromptu visit. Beside Marco sat an oddly purplish Wigglytuff—and it was he who spoke first, “Good morning everyone! It is a joy to see you all doing well, especially you, An... Anna—”

“^Anne,^” the Gallade added telepathically, his physical mouth sipping on hot tea.

“Yes, Anne, my apologies! I hope you’ll attend my and Pearl’s classes sooner rather than later. We already put in some thought about how to make sure you’d be able to learn with the others without any incidents.” The green-eyed Normal-type stressed his words with a polite bow, missed on behalf of Anne’s mind having gotten stuck on imagining the implications of the word ‘incident’.

With the human girl preoccupied, Autumn responded for her, “Yep, I’m sure she’ll be speaking our language in no time! That’s not why I hunted you both down, though~.” The appreciation in Autumn’s voice gave way to focus as she shifted her gaze from her coworker to her son-in-law.

Marco’s eyebrow lifted at the sudden change as he asked, “^What’s the matter?^”

With one deep breath to gather her words, and another one to keep the harrowing emotions associated with Sage’s flashback at bay, the Indeedee explained, “Marco, meet Sage. Sage, meet Marco.” She lifted a paw toward the lil’ hauntling, catching her attention and prompting her to wave at the tall psychic.

“~Hello Mr. Marco!~” the Phantump squeaked, glad to meet another non-scary person. Even more so if said person would help her get back home.

The Gallade wasn’t as eager, not with how oblique his mother-in-law was being, but he figured that saying hi to a little girl wouldn’t hurt. “^Good morning, Sage. It’s nice to meet you.^”

Neither of the two expected the lil’ ghost to reel back at hearing his voice, especially when accompanied by the very clear sensation of fear. It wasn’t that intense and only lasted for as long as Marco spoke, but it was still there, and it was still enough to discourage both of them from directly talking to each other any further.

As much as Autumn wanted to interrupt her own discussion plan and delve into figuring out what was wrong, she knew this was more important. “Anyway—Sage here is... was a human. I’ll spare her the exact recollection, but she is the ghost of a human.”

Even when trying to be as clinical as possible, she was well aware that this direct description was more than harrowing enough to upset the little ghost again, making the Indeedee glance over at her to see if she needed that extra support. The answer was yes—but Anne and Ember were already on top of it, smothering the wooden ghost in as much comfort and warmth as they were capable of.

Jovan gasped, “I am so terribly sorry to hear.” He covered his mouth with a paw, trying his best to hold back tears. Some of them still leaked at the thought of the little undead girl having friends to look after her as she processed her unfortunate fate.

Best the Indeedee could do was get it all over with sooner. “Yes, it is a sad situation. I mentioned all this because Sage wishes to eventually return to humanity, and with Aria not doing well today, I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to help her out, Marco.”

Autumn stared at the Gallade with all the seriousness and composure she was capable of, the attitude so unlike her it left the other psychic somewhat unnerved. Thankfully, it was one of those inquiries with a very simple answer—

“That is quite a curious difference between you two,” Jovan commented, derailing the trains of thought of everyone gathered and drawing enough attention to him to melt Anne instantly were it aimed at her. Attention that the Wigglytuff cherished, smiling at having raised what he hoped to be an interesting tangent as he continued, “Little Sage here—Phantump in body, yet human in spirit, and yearns for others like her. And Anne, an inversion—human to the eye, yet desired to stay with us, almost as opposite from living with humans as can be.”

The impromptu tangent left the onlookers more stunned than impressed, eroding Jovan’s confidence in his point by the moment. Alas, it was the inevitable outcome of many a philosophizing, and he wasn’t a stranger to making a joke of himself either. “Of course, that’s just a single, surface-level observation. I can only extrapolate so much out of your circumstances. Either way, it is best I go back to the nursery. The little ones will be waking up from their naps anytime now, and I don’t want to leave Pearl taking care of them all!”

With an undeservedly jovial chuckle, the Wigglytuff hopped off his seat and started floating his way toward the exit of the tea shop. Right before he left, though, he turned around one more time to say his goodbyes, “Hope to see you all soon! Especially you, Anne. I’m very curious to hear how our language will sound being spoken by a human.”

Probably like gibberish, but as long as others could understand it, Anne didn’t mind. “~Th-thank you, Mr. Jovan,~” she said—only for the Fairy-type to stop in his tracks at her boilerplate response.

She leaned away a bit as Jovan processed what he’d heard—before eventually responding with the most elated voice many gathered have ever heard him use, “Oh, you will make for a beautiful singing voice! If you desire that, of course! Now, now, off I go before I get distracted again, ha!”

As most of the group blinked the unexpected tangent away and Autumn rubbed her temples at the Wigglytuff’s... insensitive remark, Anne felt dread shoot through her at the mere mention of singing. Hell, even speaking didn’t come easy to her. The thought of making an entire spectacle out of herself and deliberately catching everyone’s attention with her voice was nothing short of nightmare fuel—nightmare fuel that Ember’s warmth burned through in an instant.

“So~, how does that sound, Marco?” Autumn asked, snapping the group’s focus back to the discussion at hand.

The Gallade’s answer hadn’t gotten any more complex in the few minutes after he was cut off—if anything, the delay had only made him even more confident. “^Yes, of course I will. What would you have in mind, Autumn?^” He asked, pushing his unfinished cup to the side as he leaned in, keen on discussing the details.

A part of him knew he shouldn’t have been so eager to jump into Autumn’s plan right away, especially not while recovering from injury and an entire strenuous day yesterday. All that could wait, though. He could help. He wanted to help, help in more ways than just accidentally stumbling on some important information while being distrustful of his sister.

Autumn beckoned Yaksha closer from the back of the group as she walked up to Marco’s bench, leaving the trio of kids standing off to the side. The specifics of her plan were... messy and uncertain, and best kept for telepathy. “^What we had in mind was you escorting Sage and Yaksha into the human town on the other side of the forest, where Sage’s family lives. They’ll need someone who can ask for directions from the humans, and you look much closer to a human than either myself or Cinder.^”

That... was more involved than what Marco thought it’d be. He didn’t respond immediately, instead chewing through the situation and how it was likely to play out. Concern after concern arose, none of them too difficult to notice, even from a cursory thought.

Fortunately, they were just the worries that Autumn had already gone through earlier, and she was keen to get Marco up to speed. She spoke up again before he could put audible thoughts to the inaudible ones, “^Yes, having ghosts walking in their town will draw attention and unrest—that’s why we want you to disguise yourself as a human so that other humans think they’re ‘your’ mons. Among the clothes Aria brought from that friend of Anne a few days back is a large outer garment that should obscure most of you, which ought to be enough if you go out at night and stick to less-used paths. There are risks of you becoming spotted, but since it’s not the town where Anne escaped from, it shouldn’t cause any issues even in that worst case.^”

Autumn felt a bit guilty as she watched Marco’s expression flatten with her every word, uncertain what was causing it.

For a while, he worried the Indeedee had already come up with every single concern he had in mind—but there just so happened to be one still unaccounted for, reassuring him about not being as dim as he feared he was. He asked, “^How do you envision I ‘ask for directions’? Wouldn’t that be suspicious by itself?^”

“~Hardly. Just pose as a tourist and nobody will be any wiser,~” Yaksha commented offhandedly, most of his attention still focused on watching over Sage.

While Autumn and Marco decoded what ‘tourist’ meant from the Banette’s thoughts, Anne took it upon herself to try broaching the unpleasant topic she had thought about earlier. The adults were already talking quietly amongst themselves; she’d just have to pull Sage away so that she wouldn’t overhear. Which...

“~Ember?~” Anne shook her friend’s shoulder as she spoke, her uncertain yet focused expression eliciting much the same one from the Braixen. “~Could you distract Sage for a while? I-I wanna talk to the rest about something... serious.~”

The firefox listened intently before nodding as firmly as she could manage. Opportunities to help her best friend had always been few and far between, and she wouldn’t waste this one, no matter how minor it was. “Of course!” she woofed. “J-just out of earshot?”

Before the human girl could even respond, the Braixen was already ushering the Phantump over to the tea corner’s counter, telepathically talking to her about something Anne couldn’t pick up on. With a muttered ‘thank you’, she turned back to the rest of the group and approached, her expression interrupting their mostly silent exchange before she even spoke up.

“^What’s wrong, Anne?^” Autumn asked, trying to give the girl the largest and warmest smile she could muster—only for it to immediately falter upon hearing what she had to say.

“~A-are you sure Sage’s parents will take her back in?~”

The trio’s expressions were all shocked, to wildly varying extents. Autumn was taken aback somewhat, chewing through what she thought on and hoped about all this, the mental efforts culminating with a sigh. Marco stared at Anne wide-eyed, cursing himself for not bringing up this straightforward yet crucial question earlier.

Yaksha... lowered his head and closed his eyes.

“^Well, obviously we can’t be certain, Anne, but... I was quite hopeful with how convinced Sage and Yaksha were about it, though now the more I think about it...^” the Indeedee whispered, shuddering as she imagined first the worst possible outcome, and then the most likely one—and feared at how similar they were.

Beside her, Marco remained silent, not having anything to add for himself but unspoken self-loathing, overlooked in the tense discussion.

After a few tense moments, Yaksha let out a quiet groan and stared up at Anne—before wincing and directing his increasingly furious glare downwards, as if trying to sear through the dirt beneath them. “~She deserves closure. Humans are,~” he cut himself off, angling his body even further away from Anne as he continued, “~most humans are wretches. Of course, they won’t take their child back in after a change like that, I’m not pretending they will.~”

Anne raised her voice as she asked, expression narrowing, “~Then why lead Sage on?~”

“~So that she’ll stop thinking about it. Once she sees it for herself, sees that there’s no coming back, she’ll finally let go of that idea. And then... we might stay here if she wants. Or somewhere else...~” Yaksha muttered. As snarled as his words were, there was a hesitation in them that Anne wasn’t sure how to interpret. Was this something he genuinely thought, or something he came up with on the spot to mask him not having considered that before?

Ultimately, it didn’t matter—it was reprehensible either way.

Against her better judgment, Anne took half a step closer to the ghost, anger flashing on her face as she spoke, “~Why don’t you just tell her that!?~”

“~She won’t listen, she never has!~” The Banette raised his voice at the overt disapproval of his actions, the gaze of his pink eyes piercing straight through the human. As wound up as the girl had gotten on this topic, she didn’t have nearly the mental fortitude to endure that, looking away in fear moments later.

Marco knew he couldn’t help much, but he at least could chime in with a distraction. “^It is best we all take a breath. This is a tense subject, yes, but I see Yaksha’s point. Sage will need to see the truth, as scary and disappointing as it might be. I... I get the allure of wanting to run from something as terrifying as that. I really do. I was in a similar situation yesterday, and so much of me wanted to not face the harrowing truth and instead do horrible actions I would’ve regretted just to be spared that fear. I only pushed through and overcame that barrier at the last moment.^”

The Gallade looked down at the makeshift table before him, his entire body shaking as he thought back to his confrontation with Olive and continued, “^The awareness that any other day I might’ve done a horrible thing is... haunting. I did the right thing in the end, I’m sure of that, and I hope that we’ll get the most out of the knowledge I brought with me when it comes to finding a safer location to live.^”

As good as it felt to get baggage this heavy out of his chest, Anne’s expression remained confused, making him paraphrase it. “^We all have to face the truth and not run from it Anne, even when it hurts.^”

Now that was something Anne could acknowledge—and then turn around, right back at the trio of adults. “~B-But isn’t goading Sage on and not being upfront with her about her family not taking her back exactly this kind of running from the truth?~” she asked, leaning in, heart hammering at the tense discussion. She didn’t want to be arguing about any of this; she wanted to live in a fairytale world where those insane dreams could come true and where the unfortunate ghost girl could rejoin her family as if nothing had happened—but she didn’t.

None of them did.

“^But is that the truth?^” Autumn chimed in after a few moments of pondering, deflating Anne.

The girl didn’t have the strength to argue, not with her words repeatedly falling on what felt like deaf ears. There was no point in continuing this conversation, not with the other side so oblivious—willingly or not—to her main point. Whether it was them being obstinate or her just not getting something, she didn’t know. It sure felt like the former, though.

With a weak nod, she turned around and headed over to Ember and Sage. Autumn’s and Marco’s worried gazes lingered on her for a while before the trio returned to their mostly silent conversation, getting another dejected sigh out of the human.

It felt like the adults were lying to them ‘for their happiness’ again.

Trying to shake off that ugly thought, Anne tried to pay attention to what was going on at the counter. Ember was drinking tea, and... watching something their friend couldn’t quite make out from behind the Braixen’s fluffy, hairy ears.

Before she could take another step, though, she felt something dragging her by the sleeve straight ahead, looking up to see Sage at the most energetic she had seen her be yet. “~Anne Anne look, they’re knitting!~” the ghost squeaked. “~And they gave us this tea and it’s so sweet and tasty come!~”

Anne stumbled on as she was half guided, half dragged over to the front of the tea corner, a freshly made cup already waiting for her—

...

Was this Goodra always there?

Regardless of the answer, seeing Anne be so taken aback at noticing them made the Dragon-type let out a soft, deep laughter that faded into a wide, warm smile. Once they were done laughing, they spoke toward Ember, their sounds a mix of croaks, squeaks, and... very, very wet growls.

“Vivian says hi, Anne!” Ember giggled, the hiccupy sound quickly melting through Anne’s insecurities. Suppose the least the human could do was return the greeting, smiling as she gave the dragon the biggest wave her good arm could dish out before reaching for her cup of tea.

To her surprise, Vivian responded to her gesture, Ember paying close attention before translating them to her friend, “They’re saying they’d normally be the one showing you around, but seems it’s not needed with having us all to keep you company, hehe.”

Not something Anne was sure how to respond to, settling on a warm, only partially forced smile. To her relief, the Goodra got the message and didn’t continue the conversation further, instead picking the knitting needles back up and resuming their current project, a sleeve of sorts. Guess that made sense; the ones on their sweater were quite mismatched—and looked burned in places.

As interested as Sage was in watching them continue, the older human could only sigh and keep wrestling with the unpleasant topic roiling in her head. A part of her really wanted to tell the truth to the younger girl, to rip the bandaid off while she still was safe and among friends, as opposed to being at her most emotionally vulnerable.

She didn’t have the strength to do it, and doubted whether either of the three adults did either. Maybe that was the real reason behind them going through this entire pretense. “~I-I hope your mom will be nice to you, Sage...~” she mumbled, distraught.

The ghostly girl perked up at Anne’s words, hovering right before her with as wide a smile as she could give. “~Of course she will; she’s my mom! She loves me!~”

Anne envied that confidence. That ability to have this much utter, genuine trust in a family member. Having a mom kind enough for her daughter to be so certain of her acceptance. Anne’s own mother barely accepted her existence—already more than she could say for her father, and even that was only when sober.

...

...

Would Aria even want to be called that?

Anne didn’t know, but she could hope. A wild, unlikely hope, something that wouldn’t do her any good to ponder on—all it’d bring was eventual disappointment. It hurt to think about. Maybe she’d gather the courage to ask those stupid words one day, maybe not. In either case, until then...

This was some really good tea.