Finding a place to sit down for a while was a lot harder than Astra had initially thought it was going to be. Skirting next to the walls of the buildings, she edged along the sidewalk, avoiding the modest stream of people heading to and fro. She passed by an elderly couple and shifted uncomfortably as their heads turned to follow. Did they really have to stare like that? She gazed at the sparse canopy above and sighed.

Just like last time, the number of humans had spiked dramatically the closer she got to the center. As they did so, she began to notice a fair number of them staring at her. Was a full black cloak really so odd? Or maybe it was this ‘albino’ thing. A combination of both? It didn’t matter, the end result was a street full of nosy people and some horrible paranoia. If any of them saw through the facade...

She only wanted a nice shady place to sit for a while, just to let Treecko out and eat a jar of berries. There were several buildings that hosted tables outside them, but she would prefer something a bit more isolated so she could relax without worrying about someone bothering her. A bit of mental fatigue was already making itself known from the overpowering flood of unregulated thought and emotions pouring out of the local humans.

Also, there was the part where she would have to scoop the foodstuff out with her telekinesis. That would likely give her away outright.

Astra paused to take in her surroundings. Signs proclaiming various services were on near every building. The one she stood in front of was named ‘Imagi-Knit.’ A large quantity of cloth items were visible through the window as she gazed inside speculatively—if she could make something that fit in better…but she didn’t know how, and neither did she have any time.

The shop itself did look familiar. Did she see it the last time she was here? She had been traveling across the rooftops at this point; gazing across the street, she tried to imagine seeing it from on high. Yes, yes it was coming together, the position of the trees, the colors of the signs. She knew where she was!

So if she traveled sideways a little bit, there should be—there! The continuous stretch of shops and signs had finally broken in favor of a large swath of trees and dirt. The ‘Petalburg City Park’ was a welcome sight. Astra sighed in relief as she walked down the winding trail; the city outside had been really noisy, this relative quiet was warmly welcomed.

The park was mostly empty, only one or two people in scattered areas. A few children gathered among odd contraptions in a sand pit while a woman watched nearby, and a boy was playing fetch with an unfamiliar Pokemon. Astra watched it chase after a colorful ball. What was that? A memory flickered, and she reached back for her pokedex. Turning it on, she pointed it at the creature. The device made a soft chime as it pulled up an entry for a Pokemon called Skitty—apparently they liked to chase things, such as their own tail. She stifled a giggle as the Skitty abruptly started to spin around, only to wobble and fall over a moment later. How cute~

She found a table away from what little activity there was, relaxing as the distance muffled the city’s emotional output. With its usual electronic whine, she released Treecko from the confines of his pokeball. The lizard Pokemon let out a trill as he stretched out, peering at his surroundings curiously.

Setting her pack down, Astra shuffled through it before retrieving a small container of fresh Oran berries. Flicking the top open, she withdrew a blue fruit and ate it. Ah, an excellent mix of every flavor there was; sweet, sour, spicy…delicious. As she ate another one, she remembered that treat that had been dumped on her head. She wanted to try ice cream again, too! But her tasty daydream was interrupted by a hungry lizard attempting to climb up her arm.

“Ah! Treecko, stop that,” she whined, plucking the Pokemon off. Treecko crossed his arms and let out a low grumble as he was set back on the table.

Grinning, Astra levitated a berry out of the jar and took out her knife, neatly cutting the berry into fourths and twirling the pieces around her free hand. “You want one of these, right?” she taunted, hovering it over her palm.

“Tree…” Treecko crouched down, focusing on the fruit in her hand intently.

The tension rose...!

“There!” Astra flicked her hand, launching wedge across the table.

Treecko bolted to the left, easily intercepting and catching the piece of Oran in his mouth. “Ko!”

“There!” Astra launched another in the other direction, gleefully watching him dart across the table to catch it before it sailed into the grass. Grabbing another for herself, she began an all-out berry assault, flicking pieces of Oran side-to-side and into the air as Treecko dashed to and fro to catch them all. Down to the last slice, Astra merely held it in her outstretched hand. “Here!”

Treecko lept to the Oran in a flash, and ate it straight from her palm. “Tree!” Smiling, Astra put the empty jar away and stroked him across the back, causing him to make a soft noise and sprawl out on her lap. They spent a while like this, simply enjoying the wind and warmth, when the faint sound of music began to play.

Astra perked up. She remembered this! Was that old man here again? Getting off her bench and reinforcing her illusion—an annoyed Treecko hopping onto her hat—she walked around a bend in the path.

And there he was, that old man from what seemed to be so long ago. Though now dressed in blue and brown, he was sitting on that same bench with that odd object resting under his chin, running that stick across the width. He was not playing the same song, not at all; what he was playing now raised every hair on her coat. The pace had increased drastically, notes changing from one to the next with a frantic fervor.

And same as the other day, he was alone. Though many people were looking his way as they passed, not a single one had stopped to listen.

Astra approached the recessed bench, but the man did not notice; his eyes were closed and for all intents was dead to the world around him. This music…it was wonderful! Astra couldn’t believe a sound this exhilarating could exist. She found herself tapping her foot to the rhythm, moving side to side in tune with the song. It wasn’t a proper dance—her cloak restricted her movements far too much for the sorts of motions she would usually make—but she could still express this beating heart of hers nevertheless. Treecko bobbed his head as well, caught in the flow, same as her.

Closing her eyes, Astra lost herself to the music. Winding up and down, but never losing that speed, that exuberant energy…she wanted to run. She wanted to fly! To feel the world pass by, and race the setting sun till dawn.

The ending came as a complete surprise, the intense melody coming to a jarring halt with a single, screeching noise. Astra snapped out of her reverie, disorientated. What? Why did it stop? The musician had set aside the mysterious object and was rubbing his hand. His brow was furrowed, mouth twisted in an odd expression. She didn’t think he had noticed her yet.

“Aw, why’d you stop?” she whined, much to the man's surprise. His head swiveled toward her, eyes wide in astonishment. “That was really good!”

The old man blinked. “Oh, thank you. You were listening?”

“Yeah! I heard you from the park. I’ve never heard anything like it!”

“I see. It’s not my usual work, to be sure,” he said, picking up the instrument, “It was a bit of an experiment—oh, pardon my manners. My name is Trevor, I used to work in an orchestra as a violinist. Who might you be?” He smiled at her, resting the—violin, was it?—on the ground.

“My name is Astra,” she said, “I’m a trainer here to challenge the gym!”

His expression seemed to dim a bit at her words. “Are you? Oh, of course you are; I should have guessed with that little fellow on your head there.”

“Tree.” Now that the show was over, Treecko stretched and lept to the ground, lying back against a tree.

Astra hesitated. There was something in his tone, did he disapprove? Why? “Is that…okay?” she asked.

“No, no, it’s fine.” Trevor waved her off. “It’s all you kids seem to do nowadays, is all. Pokemon this, Pokemon that…it’s been like this ever since they let you kids tame Pokemon by yourselves. Did you know that you used to have to get special training to even attempt that? Now it’s so simple a kid can do it…how the world changes in just a few decades.” He swept a hand through his graying hair, chuckling to himself. “Hah, nevermind that. You came over to listen to music, yes?”

She grinned at him brilliantly. “I’d love to!” He still looked bothered about something. But if he was offering to play again, she wouldn’t miss the chance! Who knew when she could hear any of this again?

“Hah! What refreshing enthusiasm.” Picking up his violin, he began to play once more. “This piece is called ‘Dirge for the Unknown Soldier.’ Rather simple, but I’m afraid more complex works are beyond me these days.”

Astra sat and listened. This song was a lot slower than the last one, the notes seeming to echo even in the crowded street. “It seems…sad.”

“As it should be,” Trevor agreed. “It was written a long time ago by a talented scholar who lived in the desert. He based it on a local legend. Supposedly it was about an ancient warrior who was denied recognition for a great deed and left to rot in obscurity.”

That sounded awful. For someone to be forgotten in such a way…it wasn’t right. Something he said earlier bothered her a bit, though.

“‘More complex works?’” she echoed, “That first one sounded pretty complex.”

Trevor grimaced and faltered in his playing for a moment. “Ah, well to an untrained ear I suppose you wouldn’t have heard any irregularities. Did you notice how I ended the piece?”

Astra nodded. “Yeah, it was just a big screech. Why?”

“Hm.” Much to her disappointment, he halted his song and laid the instrument down. He held out a hand. “Look at my hand. What do you see?”

Astra looked. It was her first time seeing a human’s hand up close like this. It had four long, spindly fingers instead of the wide pad featured on her own limb. Each one was a little calloused and had what seemed to be a groove etched in the tips. The back of the hand itself had veins visibly criss-crossing the entire back, bones visible against the flesh. The entirety of it was dull in color, wrinkly and trembling quite badly.

“Um,” Astra said, uncertain. It was a wholly alien appendage, so she had no idea what was ‘wrong’ with it. His constant movement was making it a little hard to examine as well. “Can you hold it still? I can’t—”

He stared at her, blank faced. “The problem is that I’m trying.”

Astra looked up from his trembling digits, blinking. “You can’t…control your hands?”

“It’s a condition some people get around my age,” he sighed. “Some sort of problem with my head. It means I have issues moving, and, well. Other things, eventually.” He flexed his hand, a distant look in his eyes. “I mentioned I was in the orchestra, yes? If it wasn’t for this, I could have played there for the rest of my golden years. But now my control is slipping, and I keep making these amateur mistakes…they had to let me go. Sixty years I’ve played this instrument. Now in just a few more I’ll barely be able to hold it.”

“That—that’s awful! Can’t you cure it?” These humans had all sorts of miracles, surely there was something he could do?

He smiled at her. “I’m afraid not. I’ve had my fair share of reports saying some sort of breakthrough in this or that, but it all turns into a whole mess of nothing in the end. I’ll be stuck with this for the rest of my days, I think.”

So there were things that even humans couldn’t do? That…that wasn’t fair. “But…” she trailed off. What could she even say to that? “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“It’s nothing to be sorry for. Sometimes life takes an unexpected turn…and it’s not all bad, I suppose,” Trevor continued, leaning back. “I’ve gotten to spend more time with my kids, visit places I always wanted to go. Even got to tour the old school where I learned to play.”

Astra gladly latched onto the subject change. What was ‘school?' “You learned to play at…school?”

He hummed an affirmative. “Yes. It was a very prestigious academy. I learned a lot from there and met some amazing people, though I’ve heard they have had some issues with class sizes recently.”

Astra frowned. What was a class and what was the significance of its size? ”Why is that?”

Trevor had started to fiddle with the knobs at the top of the violin. “It’s just that not many people are interested in learning to play nowadays.” He plucked a string and listened intently.

Astra processed this for a moment, then her jaw dropped. “What? Nobody wants to learn that!?” Back home, they’d be fighting tooth and nail to wield a violin! “How—why—who wouldn’t want to learn how to do that!?”

“Well, I suppose they just had different priorities.” He gave her a sardonic glance. “Like training Pokemon.”

Astra flushed and looked away. That wasn’t fair, she didn’t even know violins had existed until yesterday! Not to mention her task of becoming the Champion. Maybe in a better world, but…“I never had the choice,” she mumbled.

“Oh? Were there no teachers where you are from?”

“Something like that.”

“I see…” He looked at her pensively. “If you had been given the opportunity, would you have done so?”

If she didn’t have to disguise herself? If she didn’t have to fight for her people's protection? “Training is really important to me right now, but I…I think I would have liked to,” she admitted. “It’s a nice dream.”

“Would you like to try?”

Astra blinked uncomprehendingly. “Eh? What do you mean?”

Trevor smiled. “Well, I seem to have a violin right here. I also happen to be quite proficient at using it. Do you want me to teach you?”

“Really!?” Astra asked, eyes wide. “You’d do that?”

“If you are willing, I can think of no better way to spend my time.”

Astra was on her feet in an instant, letting out a happy squeak as she jumped in excitement. “I’d love to!” This was amazing! She could learn to play, and give everyone back home a performance, and—and… Astra's face fell.

“Hm?” Trevor gave her a concerned look as her demeanor turned downcast. “Is there something wrong? You seemed excited.”

“I don’t think I have time for it.” Astra looked into the distance, the giant GYM sign looming in the distance. “I need to go challenge all of the Gym Leaders as fast as I can. It’s really important, and why I came here in the first place.”

Trevor hummed. He plucked one last string on his instrument and listened as the note thrummed through the crowded street. “Is it so important that you must race off right now?”

“Well, maybe not right this second, but…learning the violin, it would take a long time, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, certainly!” Trevor set the violin down and folded his hands together. “Learning to use it with enough skill that I could play for an orchestra took me years! On the same account, surely traveling all across Hoenn would take you a few months, no matter how much you rush. I don’t think taking five or so hours to just see what it’s like would hurt, would it?”

That map had looked rather large, Astra remembered. Even if she ran with all her might, she wouldn’t be able to even reach another gym if her village was discovered in the next few days, let alone challenge the Champion. She couldn’t dawdle, of course, but rushing straight from gym to gym would be pointless, wouldn’t it?

How long did she even have, anyway? If she had to guess how much time beating the Champion would take...two seasons, maybe? She’d assume that threshold was when humans would figure out where her village was. Grandpa had stressed several times that the protections were already fading—soon wandering explorers would find their path unopposed instead of being misdirected away. But how long did she actually have? One season? Two?

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If they were going to find the village within a season, then this whole thing was pointless anyway. But if they took longer than two or three, then she had some breathing room for mistakes.

…That wasn’t too much time in the grand scheme of things, but held up against a few hours it seemed like forever. She could spend a bit of one day here.

“No…” She looked at the sky contemplatively. “No I guess it wouldn’t, would it?"

Trevor clapped his hands, grinning gently. “That’s the spirit!” Hefting the instrument, he beckoned her closer. “Well, first let’s go over the terminology, and then how to hold it. This is called the ‘bow,' and you slide the fibers over the strings to produce the sound…”

Astra listened intently as he listed every component of the violin. It wasn’t the most interesting thing, but she was excited to see what came next. Trevor quickly went over how to hold the violin, and passed it over to Astra.

She gently took the instrument and examined it up close. It was very light, the wood it was made of more vibrantly colored than she was used to, with an almost reflective sheen from some translucent covering—it reminded her almost of tree sap, but the texture was firm and smooth, not sticky in the least. Kind of like the ornate box her Grandpa gave her. Grabbing the neck with her left hand, she awkwardly held the slightly too-large violin to her chin. She positioned her hand around the neck—

“You’re going to need to take your hands out of your sleeves, Astra,” Trevor interjected with a tone of faint humor. “You can’t hold the strings down through that thick fabric.”

Oh. Oh no. Astra hadn’t considered that. She couldn’t pull her hand out, it looked way too different! “Um. Do I really need to?”

“Er…” The musician frowned at his student’s reluctance. “Yes, you do. Is there an issue?”

Yes there was an issue, her hands were completely different! She didn’t have any fingers, for one thing. “I—it’s just…“ If he saw what she was, she’d be completely screwed. What could she do? Backing out now would be too suspicious. She’d have to craft another illusion from scratch, it was her best shot. Lowering the instrument, she surreptitiously hid her right hand out of sight. Time to stall. “Sorry, I—I get really nervous about taking my cloak off.”

“Even just your hand?”

Focusing on both the conversation and crafting this new illusion was taking more out of her than she expected. Slowly, the fingers started to take shape—she really hoped nobody noticed the purple glow beneath the sleeve. Splitting her attention, she quickly pulled together an argument. “I use the cloak to protect myself, due to a condition. If anyone saw underneath, they’d…treat me a lot differently. Even the girl working at the Pokemart started acting strange, and she only saw my face.” Even as the details started to solidify, Astra began to feel the strain steadily increasing. Was she reaching her limit?

Trevor let out a low rumble, understanding dawning in his eyes. “So you are worried that if I saw your hand, I would act similarly?”

“M—maybe.” Putting the finishing touches on the blueprint, Astra was ready to call her new hands complete. The first one formed easily enough, but the second proved to be too difficult. It flickered in and out, malformed and misshapen as she struggled to gather enough energy to form it…this wasn’t going to work, she realized; she had too many illusions running at once, one would have to go. Pausing a moment to rest, she refocused on the conversation. “It’s just…I don’t know. I don’t want it to be a big deal.“

“Now now,” he said, resting his hand upon her shoulder, “Astra, I can promise you that I would never treat you any differently than I already have. We haven’t known each other for long, but I can already tell that you are a lovely young girl with fantastic enthusiasm and a bright, open mind. That won’t change, no matter what condition you have.”

His words held such earnesty that she couldn’t help but smile, even if it was a little sardonic. Would he still say the same things if he knew the full truth? She hoped he would, but the answer would have to remain a mystery. Rubbing at her face, she surreptitiously pulled her cloak a little further up.

“Thank you,” she said, dispelling the mirage on her mouth. Her makeshift scarf would cover it up enough for now, and it freed up just enough power for her new disguise. “That means a lot.”

Forming the illusion around her hands, Astra finally pulled her sleeves all the way back. Her new appendages were not much different at all from a regular human’s in shape, save perhaps that the digits were a bit thin and spindly. However, they both had the same oddity as the rest of her in that they were unnaturally pale, like snow.

Trevor blinked as they came into view. “My word,” he said, “You said this was a condition of yours? I’d thought your face was pale, but this...it looks like you haven’t seen sunlight in years.”

“Sunlight makes it worse, actually. It, uh…” Belatedly remembering that she didn’t actually know why sunlight was supposedly bad, she switched tracks. “It’s not fun.”

“Oh dear. Will you be okay?”

“We’re in the shade, so I think I’m in the clear.”

“Well, I suppose you would know better than I.” Motioning to the instrument, he smiled at her once more. “Well then, shall we continue?”

The lesson moved rather quickly from there. Despite not having taught before, Trevor seemed to have a knack for it. On the other hand, Astra found that her actual hands, which consisted of a wide pad and a thumb, were completely unable to hold down the strings correctly at all. She wound up simply depressing the string in the right place psychically and moving her illusionary fingers in sync; she was holding the correct string down every time, but her bow-work and playing speed left much to be desired.

“Speed will come with time,” he reassured. “Once you get the motions down it’s just a matter of practice.”

Astra was also surprised that there was a visual component to music. “How do you ‘read’ music?” she asked, “Isn’t it just sound?”

“Ah, but we can mark down each note and where in a composition it is placed. It is called sheet music. I happen to have quite a few in my case, along with...oh where is it?” A shuffle of papers. “Aha! Here, this is a manual that explains it all. See this mark? The shape and position translates into a ‘C’ for a quarter of a note. Once you get used to it you can look at this and hear the whole melody in your head.”

“Amazing!”

“Yes, it’s quite useful. We use it to learn songs that other people made. Though,” he blinked, looking around him suddenly, “I think it would take too long to teach you that right now.”

“Huh?” Astra turned to look as well. The shadows on the trees and buildings had grown long, and the masses of people were about, cheerier and homeward bound. “Oh, it got really late, didn’t it?”

“It seems so.” Trevor gazed at the people rushing by, deep in thought. Turning back to his student, he smiled once again. “How about one more before you go?”

She grinned right back at him. Picking the bow up, she set it back on the strings, ready to go. “What should I play?”

“Hm, well, how about you improvise? You’ve done quite well so far with the ones I’ve shown you.”

Astra hummed. What to play? Something slow, for certain. Calming, perhaps. Unbidden, a memory surfaced.

Smiling, she set the bow to the strings and drew it back.

It wasn’t the best, as she was still stumbling with the notes and the speed, but the strings sang their song nonetheless. A melody of ages past, it spoke of calm wonder; a vast, ageless world that was just over the next horizon. ‘Come and see,’ it said, ‘What lies beyond these rolling hills?’ It built up a crescendo, a singular promise of adventure. So too as it reached its peak, one would also discover what they had searched for. The descent was calmer, almost sleepy; the journey was done, and it was time to rest, it said, and faded into silence.

Trevor applauded, smiling ear to ear. “My word, bravo! You certainly have made astonishing progress, haven’t you?”

“Do you think so? Thank you!” Setting the instrument down, Astra gave it a fond look. “It was really fun.”

“Truly, it is remarkable. The skill you’ve displayed just now, why, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes I would have thought you had been regularly practicing for a month or two. Yet with only half a day’s instruction...”

Nodding to himself, Trevor stood up, and extended his hand. Taking it, Astra pulled herself off the bench. “I had been thinking about this during the lesson, and that cinched it.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“I have a favor to ask. My time as a musician is all but done. But you, with your natural talent in this field, could very well succeed me.”

“Eh? I don’t understand…” Astra tilted her head. “I need to fight all the gyms, I can’t stay here.”

“I know, and I would never ask you to stop following your dream.” Trevor picked up the violin and bow, storing them within a black box nearby. Turning back to his protege, he held the case out to her. “I merely ask that you take this violin with you, and continue practicing along your journey.”

Astra’s eyes widened in astonishment. “You’re giving me your violin just like that? Why?”

“My affliction is steadily robbing me of any ability to use it,” he answered, looking upon the box with unhidden melancholy. “But you are so young, and a full life awaits you. With a hidden talent such as yours, I would think it a great crime to not nurture it. Nobody ever said you can’t be a trainer and a musician.”

“I—I don’t know what to say.” Reverently, Astra took the case out of his hands. “How can I be a trainer and do this?”

“If you love something, and from the moment you played that song I saw that you do, you can always make time for it.” Reaching over, Trevor patted her head. “You said you needed to finish all those gyms rather quickly, right? All I ask is that once you are done, perhaps you could come visit me here. You could play a song and show me all that you learned.”

She was getting a little misty-eyed. Wiping her face with her sleeve, she grinned fiercely. “I’ll play you the best song you’ve ever heard! That’s a promise.”

Trevor chuckled. “I look forward to it. Now, I think you have a challenge to make?”

“Yeah.” Stepping forward, Astra hugged the aging violinist. “Thank you for everything.”

Trevor returned the hug. “It was my pleasure. Take care of yourself now!”

“I will.” Astra waved to him as they began to part ways. “I’ll be back!”

The aging musician gave a brief wave back, and then was gone.

“Tree.” Treecko said, still lounging on the bench.

“Yeah.” Astra replied, looking into the distance. The Gym stood above the other buildings, shining brilliantly in the dying light. “Let’s get going. We’ve got a gym to beat.”

Treecko leapt onto her shoulder, and then they were off.

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The Petalburg Gym was an intimidating sight to behold. Situated in the middle of a large concrete lot encircled by bushes, several stories tall, and hosting a grand ‘GYM’ sign on its slanted, tiled roof, the aura it radiated could be described as grandiose.

Unlike the last time she was here it was fairly populated; a few humans were loitering around the front of the building, watching a showdown happening in the courtyard. A green Pokemon that vaguely resembled a Poochyena if its head managed to stretch back to its tail was dashing around, firing bolts of electricity into the air. Up above, a giant winged Pokemon that was a full two-thirds gaping maw was frantically dashing through the sky, avoiding the shots. It looked kind of like a Zubat, actually. Did they evolve? Ew.

Astra watched as the enormous not-Zubat made a hasty swerve left when it should have gone right and winced as a sharp crack echoed through the sky. Its limp form started to fall a moment later, but was caught by a red beam from its disappointed trainer to varied cheers and boos from the spectators. Shaking her head, Astra ignored the crowd and headed for the entrance.

Walking through the automatic doors, the lobby of the Petalburg Gym greeted her with a brush of cool air. Much like the Pokemon Center, there was a desk in the middle of the lobby manned by a couple of humans, though this one was quite a bit taller for some reason. The faint chorus of animalistic noises emanating from the side areas was a marked difference, however.

To the right she could see several dummies being strategically mauled by a wide variety of strange Pokemon; all of them were using different methods of clawing, biting, and striking them as their humans barked orders. To the left—Astra blinked at the view behind a set of glass panes. Why was there a pond here? A few aquatic Pokemon were swimming alongside their trainers within it. Occasionally one of them would leap out of the water and perform some type of aquatic assault on another set of dummies.

Ah, so the gym was also used for training? Good to know. Maybe she could look around after she beat the Gym Leader.

One of the receptionists was talking to a man in a red jacket, but the other one was idly tapping at a glyph board. Astra approached the unoccupied man and peered above the counter; the oddly high desk making it a little awkward for her to see anything..

“Hello?”

The sandy-haired man hit a few more glyphs before sighing and plastering on a grin. “Hey there! What can I do for you?”

She flashed him a brilliant smile, though it went unseen under the makeshift scarf. “I’m here to challenge the Gym Leader.”

His smile changed to a grimace for a split second as his eyes flicked over her. “Er. Well—” he was interrupted as a voice sounded from the other half of the table.

“Is that a challenger I hear?”

“Hey Norman,” the assistant greeted as Astra turned to look. The man in the red jacket nodded at the greeting, though his gaze remained fixated on her. He was tall, with dark hair and eyes to match. “Yeah, this kid was asking about you.”

“I see.” Crossing his arms, Norman examined his would-be challenger. “Hey. I’m Norman, Gym Leader of Petalburg City.”

“I’m Astra,” she said, then pointed at him dramatically. “I’m here to challenge you!” she continued with a fierce grin. Finally, the first step towards her goal would be taken—

“I refuse.”

“...” The grin slowly faded off Astras face. “What?”

“Your challenge is declined,” he explained, as easily as one would shut a door. “You’re not going to fight me today.”

Confusion bubbled away quietly, only to be replaced with a roiling surge of panic. “What!?” she repeated, shock and outrage lending an extra edge to the question. “Why?”

“How long have you been a trainer?” Norman shot back, unimpressed.

“Wh—, I, ah,” Asta stammered, caught off guard. “I, well…since yesterday?”

“Tch, even newer than I thought. A single day with a Pokemon and you think you can duke it out with a Gym Leader?” Norman shook his head. “Have you fought a single battle yet? No, don’t answer, it doesn’t matter.

“In the end, it comes down to this,” he continued, uncrossing his arms. “You’re too green for me to even bother with. I’m only interested in fighting strong trainers, and right now I wouldn’t even have to say anything for my weakest team to run roughshod all over yours.”

Each word he spoke was like a deathknell echoing through her mind. No, no no no this couldn’t be happening, she didn’t come all this way just to be thrown out the door! “You don’t understand, I need to beat you and get your badge! I can’t be the Champion without it!”

Norman sighed. “I understand that requirement very well. I’m still not going to fight you right now. It wouldn’t accomplish anything except sending you and your team right to the Pokecenter. If you’re so desperate for a badge then go northwest to Rustboro City; Roxanne is more tolerant of novices than me. Practically specializes in it.” Turning to walk away, he paused to give one last remark, “Once you get four badges, feel free to come back. We’ll see how strong you are then.”

Astra watched him go, thoughts swirling, crashing into each other in a cacophony of nonsense. Distantly, she heard the receptionist attempt to comfort her, but she didn’t care. She hadn’t been close to her goal at all. She hadn’t even taken a single step towards it.

She fled the gym, teeth clamped together and tears dampening her mask.

----------------------------------------

She sat on a bench outside, idly swinging her legs and watching another duel take place in the courtyard. Her considerable frustration had petered out by now, but the damp spots remained. She rearranged her mask so it wouldn’t irritate her and sighed.

Norman…she frowned, kicking at a rock. She didn’t like him. Looking down on her just because she was new…ugh. Whatever. Whatever! Just because she didn’t get a badge from that inconsiderate rotten dung heap of a human didn’t mean anything!

Rustboro. Roxanne. She’d just have to travel there and beat her, and then she would truly be on her way to becoming Champion. She would train, and beat a lot of trainers, and when she came back here she’d beat his face into the dirt! Ha!

She was so busy with that little fantasy that she didn’t notice someone was walking up to her until she heard a voice call out.

“Hey! You wouldn’t happen to be Astra, would you?”

Astra bolted upright. Who—!?

A human boy stood next to the bench, looking at her curiously. He wore a red and black shirt, with black pants under another pair of black shorts (what), had a green headband and white hair—wait, no, that was a hat; his hair was black—and a green backpack.

She didn’t recognize him, so how did he know her name? “Er,” she said, suddenly very self-conscious. Did he find her out somehow? “I—I am. How do you know that?”

The human grinned at her affirmation before giving an awkward chuckle at her question. “Ah, my dad told me. You met him yesterday, I think. Professor Birch?”

Astra blinked. The man from the lab? “Oh. Yeah, I remember him. He’s your dad?”

“Yeah. I hope he wasn’t too embarrassing, he can get a bit overenthusiastic,” he laughed, scratching his cheek with a finger.

“No, he was fine,” she replied, relaxing a bit. Birch had been perfectly friendly; if this boy was his son, then...he was probably fine too? “He didn’t say anything about you, though. Who are you?”

He slapped his forehead. “Oh, I completely forgot! Sorry, my name is Brendan. It’s nice to meet you Astra! I heard that you got the Treecko yesterday so I wanted to come over and say hi.”

“Hello, Brendan,” Astra greeted, giving him a small smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Good to meet you too. Do you mind if I sit here? We could hang out for a while.”

“Eh?” Astra squinted at him. Checking on the Treecko his dad gave her was one thing, but hanging out? “Why?”

Brendan shrugged. “Pokemon Professors give out Pokemon in groups of three, but dad was only able to give out two—one of which I have—and you happened to get the third. There’s this whole thing about how people who get their Pokemon from the same batch of three starters a professor gives out are destined to be rivals, but,“ he added with a smile, “I think that we could be friends, too.”

“Friends…” Somehow, Astra hadn’t thought about that. In her imagination, she hadn’t considered the interval between the present and becoming Champion. Her mind’s eye had always painted her at that summit alone. But could she really do everything without talking to anybody at all? Hadn’t she already broken that isolation when she took a lesson from Trevor?

It would be a risk, she told herself. A friend was more than a momentary teacher. But the argument seemed hollow. For a moment, she struggled against herself, but really, there could only be one outcome.

“Sure,” she said, giving him a radiant smile. “I guess I wouldn’t mind a friend.”

“Oh, fantastic! I was worried I’d screw this up,” he said, sitting beside her. “So, did you have any questions about me, or maybe I could—”

“I do have a question, actually.” She had wanted to ask this since she first spotted him and was dying to know.

“Hm? Alright, shoot.”

“Why are you wearing two pairs of pants?”

The best part of being an empath, Astra mused, was that she could literally feel the exact moment Brendan’s soul died.