The headache had mostly cleared by the time Hoshi returned home, washed away by time, the fresh air, or the combination of the two.

He entered his apartment with the smallest, weakest spring in his step imaginable, to see his girlfriend spread out on the couch. Candy was similarly sprawled gem-down on the coffee table, kicking her legs- her arms..?

Kicking two of her appendages, while another loosely gripped a crayon. Drawing? That’s cute.

“Hey Casca,” he greeted, and she turned away from the television. Don’t freak out. This is going to- it’s going to be fine.

“Hoshi! There you are, you had me worried sick – are you alright? You look kind of green.”

He licked his lips as she made room, tasting only the thinnest aftershocks of vomit. He sat in the offered space somewhat stiffly – his limbs didn’t seem willing to bend quite as smoothly as he wanted them to – and simply watched the staryu colour for a moment. Solid black? No, those gaps are probably meant to be stars; the night sky, then. “I…” he began, but then trailed off. “Are you religious?”

Casca frowned at the question. “No..? Well, I believe there’s something out there, but if it’s Arcus or our ancestors or something else, I’ve got no clue.” Her eyes drilled into his face. “Why do you ask? Is this about that… medical issue?”

He was silent for a moment more, and as the tension built he could feel his girlfriend’s trepidation. Or can I? Is this… Is this what normal empathy is, or do I really..? Even without the dregs of the headache, today had really fucked with his head. “I think… I mean Hypno thinks…” He swallowed. “I might be a psychic.”

Casca’s brows climbed almost into her hair, and even the starfish sensed the change in atmosphere, turning away from her drawing to fix the pair of humans in her gem’s reflection. “Psychic?” Casca repeated.

“Yeah. Kiribo’s alakazam noticed and… apparently my brainwaves match, or something. The actual tests didn’t seem to go well at all, but Hypno said I…” He trailed off again.

His girlfriend’s eyes continued to stare intently, but after another brief silence they softened. Are her eyes really the shade of sky-blue I see them as? Or is she like Kiribo, and they’re actually dull..? “Oh, Hoshi. You know that even if I was a secret nun or something, I’d still make an exception for my man, right?” She hugged him, and he put his arms around her. He’d thought that all his catastrophising on the way home had prepared him, but as they squeezed each other tears slid from his eyes regardless. “I know you’re not the Dexus’s plaything – those old stories are bunk.”

He continued to cry, very softly, letting out a surprised laugh as he felt rubbery arms join the mix. “Thanks, Candy…”

Some of the tension he felt went away, and then even more as Casca spoke again. “Hoshi… You don’t believe that, do you?”

“No,” he answered. “I- I haven’t been to church in years. But…” I don’t want to be… different. “I’m thinking about what my parents would say.”

“Hoshi…”

“Mom was- she was religious, I think. I don’t even know what dad would say – he wasn’t traditional, but he was traditional, you know? Fuck, what will Bob think..?”

“Hoshi,” Casca said, more firmly. “Bob will still love you. And if he doesn’t, I’ll kick his ass until he changes his mind.” Hoshi snorted, the image of his girlfriend menacing the seven-going-on-eight-foot-tall air force captain flashing through his mind’s eye. “This doesn’t change anything, especially not us. Right?”

“…Yeah,” he answered softly. “Yeah, of course… Maybe I should go to church, though, just to make sure I don’t burst into flames.”

She huffed, his joke landing, and the three pulled apart after one last squeeze. “Well, it’s the right season for it, stud. Seriously, and you okay? You look sick.”

“Hypno injected some kind of star-gunk into me, but I’m not feeling too bad anymore. Ugh, he’s a fucking asshole, had his hypno… well, it wasn’t too bad, I guess. But he wants me to come back, and I’m not sure if…” He swallowed again. “If I actually want it, you know?”

Once again Casca examined his face. “…Let’s not make any big decisions just yet, okay? You should sleep on it.”

He let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. I’ll do that… Do you think you could take care of dinner?”

“Absolutely,” she replied with a nod, and Hoshi made himself more comfortable on the couch as she stood. “Soup again?”

“Something a bit more, please; that fucking slime made me throw up.” As his girlfriend got to work he absentmindedly released his own Pokémon, Crow flapping over to a surprisingly intact cat stand he’d dragged home from the dump while Guts bounded around the apartment. Ha, never actually got any training done with them… Maybe tomorrow. Despite the aftereffects of the astral-whatever-juice being almost as short-lived as advertised, Hoshi was still wrung-out and limp. As his rat retired to her own nest – a cardboard box full of bunched-up newspapers – he toyed with Venus’s ball, debating releasing her as well. She didn’t break anything when I let her out yesterday night, but… no, I’ll take her to a park tomorrow or something.

He wasn’t entirely sure a mankey could be an indoor Pokémon, and he didn’t feel like testing fate after the day he’d had.

Fate… Arc, this is gonna stick in my brain for a while, I can just tell.

Time passed as he dragged himself together. He finished the action movie Casca had been watching, then switched to the news.

More shit about the Moltres… Oh, here we go, something new. “And we’ve actually managed to get an exclusive interview with Minister Jitsu to speak about the League’s response to the crisis,” the anchorwoman narrated. “Minister, how are you feeling about things at the moment?”

The professionally-dressed woman in her immaculate newsroom disappeared as they cut to somewhere much more casual: a backdrop of darkly stained wood, the wall held up by a more modern white-carpet floor. A man in robes was centered in the camera, sitting at a low, ancient-looking table with his arms crossed. His house? I guess when you’re that high in the government, you get the media to come to you.

“Thank you for having me, Sarah,” the man replied. He was old, with a short face and stout body; Hoshi’s first impression was that he looked like a politician, in some ephemeral way that was completely divorced from his monk-like robes and buzz-cut. When he spoke his voice was soft but firm, as though admonishing a misbehaving grandchild. “To be frank, I’m feeling slightly put-out. While we here in Provincial Ministration are, of course, always happy to expend every effort for the betterment of Indigo, we feel that the response from League higher-ups was sluggish at best. We were forced to move forward with the emergency measures before they were completely ready, something that shouldn’t have happened – in the future, I would hope that such measures could be taken right away, with greater… follow-through.”

“I’m sure many of our listeners agree, Minister. But of course, there are always those who feel wary of allowing the provincial government too many freedoms from League oversight; how would you respond to the criticism that you and your fellows overstepped? Acts of God are traditionally a matter for the Champion to resolve, after all.”

“I simply cannot agree, Sarah. While the Champion and Elite Four spent weeks completely fumbling the crisis, the people of Kanto suffered. And while Clair did eventually solve things, that is little help to the multiple cities that spent two months under siege from this unnatural storm – the worst since the New Island incident. This crisis has uncovered something abundantly clear: the conjoined Indigo League is simply too small to deal with both Johto and Kanto. Either the number of seats must be increased, or the power to act must flow down to I and my fellow ministers. The alternative is that things will remain as they are; with a slow-witted bureaucracy allowing the suffering of the people through its inaction.”

“Bold words, Minister. I’m sure that the League will have a suitable response shortly. Do you have any closing words?”

“Only this,” the man said, and uncrossed his arms. Hoshi’s eyes narrowed as he saw what was revealed: a small patch over the politician’s heart, ‘FTL’ written in block letters. A Minister wearing a Free the League symbol? Huh… “The government exists for the good of the people – and as history has shown time and time again, weakness will always be caught out. If the League’s Elites are unable to protect the people, then what good are they?”

The news moved on, and Hoshi was distracted from some feel-good, rescue-a-puppy type story by his thoughts. Jitsu… Familiar, but not a name I know off the top of my head. The man’s words had been an obvious provocation, the kind that Hoshi wouldn’t have expected to see on the news. It feels… kind of good, actually, to see that there are a few people with their heads on straight. Hopefully this minister wouldn’t mysteriously disappear the moment the public eye blinked…

And then he was distracted from further thought as Casca slipped a plate into his lap, planting a kiss on his cheek as she returned to her place on the couch.

“Rice and peppers?”

“Stuffed peppers. I’m trying something new, so speak up about the taste!”

They ate dinner, Hoshi showered, and as evening settled into night the last lingering bits of headache drifted away.

And as the two of them prepared for bed, Pokémon safely sleeping in their balls, Casca turned to give him a soft smile. “Hey. I really meant what I said earlier.”

“About?”

“About this not changing anything. About us.” She slipped into bed, and he followed a moment later after turning off the lights. In the dimness of the room, with only slivers of light coming in through the blinds, Hoshi could almost imagine he was looking up at a dark, endless, empty sky.

“Thanks, Casca,” he whispered. “I needed to hear that.”

Minutes passed as his heart slowed, the darkness under his eyelids gradually being replaced by a soft, slow kaleidoscope of stark white and black. He drifted down, down, and then-

“Hoshi?” Casca asked, voice small, and he was roused from the edge of sleep, dragged back onto dry land.

“…Yes?” he asked back, voice equally small.

“…Sorry, it can wait ‘till morning. Good night.”

“Night…”

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

Hoshi dreamt.

Or at least, he assumed he was dreaming… but something about it felt just slightly too real. Below him was a bed of soft tan, and above him was a great black void. Each was cold, lifeless, completely empty – but there was another colour. A mixture, rather than the stark monotones above his head and below his feet.

A thin band of red and blue and pink stretched between the sky and earth, a horizon line that was… not warmer, necessarily, but alive. Slowly it dripped down, nourishing the sand, and from that genesis green plants sprouted. Then insects, and fish, and mammals… So many colours that he felt like his eyes would melt.

Hoshi floated upwards as the land beneath became larger. The further life spread, the further he ascended, until the only thing below his feet was a riotous dot of many colours, that thin red-blue-pink band dripping down like rain.

This… isn’t the same nightmare I’ve been having. He continued to float, higher and higher, and as he went he could see the band was not a single piece as it had seemed close-up, but two distinct rings interweaving with each other – one red and blue, the other pink. He went up, floating into space until… there was nothing. Black void surrounded him on all sides, empty and cold.

But not a… bad cold, no. It was comforting – almost… motherly? That didn’t seem like quite the right word, but Hoshi had no other. He continued to ascend, moving without reference, and then…

Another band, this one of gold. Another, then another, then another, descending from on high and passing down below. More, and more, and more… Until eventually the golden bands, too, faded away.

Again Hoshi was enclosed by darkness, the cold void cradling him. Shouldn’t there be… stars? Anything at all? But no, there was nothing.

Nothing, at least, until he hit the top. He struck it like a comet, digging a crater into the nothing which was colourless, textureless, featureless. And then… a strange sensation. Something he had almost entirely forgotten.

A warmth entered Hoshi’s core, seeping in from this new flavour of darkness. More and more, and more and more, until-

He woke up.

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

Hoshi opened his eyes to a bright light – and more than that, a bright sound.

His half-asleep brain flailed for a fraction of a second, before he eventually placed it: his telephone was ringing. Huh? What?

Another moment of confusion as the long dream sloshed around in his skull, and then Hoshi cleared his thoughts with a shake. He stood as the phone continued to ring, semi-coordinated steps taking him from one side of the bedside table to the other – and then he picked it up.

“Hoshi!” roared the familiar voice of his uncle. “Finally! I’ve been calling twice a day all week – what, did you lose your phone bill in the mail or something?”

…Phone bill? asked the last dregs of sleep in his head, before another shake brought him fully back to reality. “Hey Bob,” he replied, voice rough. “Sorry, I’ve been out of the house a lot. Doing trainer stuff, you know? Trying to make up for lost time.” Why the fuck is it light outside? Where’s Casca?

…Did I fucking sleep in? As incredulous as the notion made him, it seemed it was true; a glance at his alarm showed the bright red digits of 10:12 AM merrily shining away in a sea of black glass. Black… Why does that feel nostalgic..? Already the dream was only cinders, burned away by the morning light. Did I have that nightmare again? No, I wouldn’t have slept in if it was that…

“Ha! That’s the Champ’s son I know! But listen, Hoshi, I’ve been holding your badge for a whole week now! When are you gonna come down and pick it up? You avoiding me, kid?!”

“No, Bob.” Am I? I don’t think I've been, but… Maybe it was like the Route 6 thing, and he’d just been… shying away from all the lies he’d been needing to tell his uncle. “…Sorry, maybe. I’ve had a lot on my plate, and it feels fucking weird to finally be a trainer after wanting it so long. I’d… kind of given up, you know?”

“Hey kid, don’t talk like that! You’re never too old to become a trainer – I’ve got octogenarians coming in, and they’re as good as any wet-behind-the-ears toddler!”

Hoshi snorted. “I’m sure they’d love the comparison. I’ll… come over today, alright? Sorry it took so long.”

“Don’t apologise, soldier! I want actions, not words!” The tinny filter the phone lines set over his words washed some of the emotion out, but Hoshi could easily imagine the scene on the other end: Bob yelling into his receiver, the blue of his eyes flashing in time with his pearly teeth, the latter bared in a savage grin. “I’d better see you here at fifteen-hundred sharp! Your lady too, and the blond guy, and that punk girl! And wear something classy!”

Huh? Nerine too? Hoshi dug for something to reply with, but before he could speak the line went dead. He stared at the phone for a moment, expression blank, then returned the receiver to its stand with one hand as his other came up to sweep back his hair – only to clonk himself in the forehead with his cast.

“Ow. Damn it all, Bob…” I just had a super-emotional Saturday, I wanted my Sunday to be relaxing… Well, whatever. Where’s Casca?

A brief inspection revealed a note stuck to the fridge, partially obscuring the thick black scribbles of the crayon drawing below. “Hey stud,” he read aloud, fondness and disquiet fighting for space in his chest. “Gotta do something at the academy real quick…” ‘Be back before lunch! Also, sorry I didn’t wake you, but you were dead to the world! Hope you feel better!’

The short message was signed with a kiss, sticky red lipstick vibrant and cheerful against the yellow paper. He smiled, fondness winning out, and removed the note. I guess I’ve got a couple hours to myself.

…And I do feel better, actually. There weren’t any lingering effects from yesterday, and he didn’t even feel like he’d overslept. Yeah, actually, today’s going to be great – partying with Bob sounds good. Another little vacation before I get down to my next job.

Now, how the fuck am I gonna get ahold of Ryan before three PM? He’s probably already back in Viridian… I guess I’m going to the academy too, heh.

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

In a spectacular reversal of the scene he’d become gradually used to, the Battlegrounds were packed. Men and women young and old filled the four massive fields, a multitude of different Pokémon battling for supremacy.

Hoshi saw not only the bumbling efforts of the year’s second wave of new trainers, but also the exponentially more powerful attacks of fully evolved Pokémon; there were old hands mixed into the crowd, veterans and Route Rangers acting as towering mountains for the new generation to climb. The sight made his fingers itch to close around a Pokéball – not just his left, but also his newly-freed right. Glad I thought to check the med centre before leaving; explaining the broken hand to Bob would have been awkward.

His fist wasn’t entirely back to normal yet, but the bone wasn’t in danger of rebreaking either – so long as he avoided any machamp. Yeah. I think I’ll be sending Kenny down to talk with Dabi… It’s his own Pokémon all this fuss was about, anyway.

Speaking of Kenny, the man was obviously feeling his own itch – and Ryan as well. It seemed his grunts had caught the same battle-fever that he had.

The girls, in contrast, were a bit more sedate… or at least Puce was; Casca was her usual energetic self, while Nerine seemed anxious.

“Hey Boss, think we could get a few fights in? I bet Savage’d rock a bunch ‘a these little shits.”

“Don’t be daft, Kaneth," Ryan broke in. "We couldn’t possibly keep the Gym Leader waiting.”

Kenny snorted. “You just want your badge now, yeah? Ya can do that without me ‘n the girls.”

Hoshi shook his head. “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of people still here after the party, Kenny… Also, cool it with the boss stuff, okay?”

Another snort, but the man shut his big mouth. Kind of surprised I could get the whole gang together on such short notice. He still wasn’t at all sure how Ryan was getting to Viridian and back so quickly, but whatever it was was at least convenient. “You sure you three don’t want to try and challenge the Gym? Last chance for us to all get our badges together.”

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Nah,” Casca answered. “Let’s not put it off – if I decide to come back it’ll be when Candy’s evolved.”

Nerine clicked her tongue. “That dugtrio would clear a first badge challenge easy.”

“Yeah, but I’m a revenge kinda girl. And it’s not like I need the money right now, so…” She shrugged.

“Fair enough,” Hoshi concluded. “Puce?”

“No, I don’t think I’m ready for a real Gym battle just yet.”

Kenny just shook his head, and he grunted in acknowledgement. The path through the numerous trainers was twisting, but they made it through in what seemed like an instant – and then they were through the doors.

And much like the Battlegrounds, the reception area was much livelier than Hoshi had grown used to. Finally back to normal. Seeing the space full of people brought a smile to his face, and his steps were firm as he made his way to the front desk. On the way he looked to Nerine. Wow, she’s kind of freaking out, isn’t she? “I can’t believe you went off and got the badge while we were all still at school,” he sent the fidgety teen’s way, pitching his voice high in an attempt to raise her mood.

“Yeah. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

He frowned. Wonder what’s up with her. I know she passed out from exhaustion the first time we were here, but everything went off without a hitch. What, did she offend Surge yesterday or something?

“Can I help you sir?” questioned the receptionist as they stepped close – today it was an older gentleman manning the desk, his white hair and papery skin contrasting a fine red suit.

“I’m Hoshi. I believe the Gym Leader is expecting me?”

“Ah yes, please wait a moment; Lieutenant Surge has a small matter to resolve. I’ll call you up when it’s your time to go in – are you all together?”

A nod. “Yeah, we’re together.”

“Very good, sir. As I said, I’ll call you up.”

Hoshi stepped to the side, and right behind him came a man maybe a year or two younger. “Hello! I’d like to challenge the Gym Leader!”

His smile didn’t dim as he made his way to a string of unoccupied seats, the receptionist’s aged voice carrying over the low din of visitors inspecting the pictures and other displays. “Of course, sir. Today’s a bit packed, as you can see; I can pencil you in for seven, or would tomorrow be a better time?”

He sat, and drew his eyes across the room as the challenger futilely attempted to wrangle a better time. Yeah. Back to normal.

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

Bob Surge didn’t think of himself as a negotiations kind of guy – but working the job he’d had for going on nineteen years, even a slugma would’ve picked something up.

So it was obvious that the guy in front of him was yanking his damn chain. “Shut it down? Now listen here, the Gym’s just got back up to where it should be! I ain’t shutting down crap!”

The weedy-looking pencil-pusher frowned, adjusting his nametag as if he thought the League symbol in its corner was somehow enough to intimidate a Gym Leader. Fat chance! I’m a public servant – my office is directly under the Vermilion Mayor, not you League fatcats!

“Sir, there’s obviously some sort of leak from the gas pipes. In the interest of public safety-”

His fist made contact with the sturdy surface of his desk, sending a jolt of vibration up his arm – and a jolt of satisfaction down his spine as the lackey winced. “I told you like three times now, that was no damn gas leak! It was enemy action!” You think I’m dumb? I’ve had my people combing around all week; if it was a leak, why’d it hit one guy – and maybe a civilian – then stop?

The wince continued until the man found a hint of resolve. “Gym Leader, I’m sorry, but I simply can’t see how. Nothing was stolen, no files were tampered with… no fingerprints, hairs, or anything. We even scanned for Pokéball radiation, and found nothing.”

Surge’s fist met wood again, louder the second time. “I know what fuel gas smells like, pencil-neck! That was a Clear Smog attack, or I’ll eat my boots! Your own man was injured, show a little comradery!”

At that, the man’s spine straightened. Oh, hit a nerve did I? Good! Grow a damn backbone! “Surge, you’re walking on thin ice. I can’t compel you to take a more thorough look at the gas lines, but if we take our grievances to the Mayor, what do you think the outcome will be?”

Hah, you don’t even understand the difference between you and him, do ya? I actually respect the Mayor, unlike you, grunt! “So do it, then,” Surge dismissed. “While you’re wasting your time, I’ll be tracking down the actual culprit. Get outta my office!”

The man left, and Surge took a moment to cool it down, grumbling to himself before he hit a button on his office phone. The steadily blinking light went solid, and he spoke before his old war buddy could get a word in. “Hey Olson, this what I’m hoping it is?”

“I assume so, sir. Your nephew has arrived with his entourage; shall I send him down?”

Ha! Right on time! “Go ahead.” He clicked the button again, the light dimming, and then stood. Damn kid’s always off doing his own thing. Can’t believe I had to drag his ass in to get his Thunder Badge…

The thought was, despite all the sleepless nights and other crap he’d had to put up with over the years, one that caused his smile to widen. The Gym Leader stepped towards his office door – but then took a detour, swinging to the side to stand before a large photo hung at eye-level on the wall.

Shenja Mutsu, seventeen and already wider than most professional bodybuilders, stared back at him. His blue eyes sparkled, and his cheeks were rosy – probably on account of the woman on his arm. Dani Mutsu, who’d taken her new family name just minutes before this very photo, looked equally happy. She was the polar opposite of her husband; thin-boned and short, her face pale where his was ruddy, her eyes large where his were small and squinted. Her green hair was long and straight, where his was a curly purple that resembled steel wool more than anything.

Just about the only thing they had in common was the bright blue eyes, and the expressions of joy.

“Your kid grew up pretty damn okay, Champ, Dani,” Surge muttered. “No thanks to me. Ha!”

He adjusted the frame slightly, turned, and left his office.

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

For the second time in as many weeks, Hoshi walked down the challenger’s tunnel with five Rocket Grunts on his heel – but this time, there was no tension dancing under his skin. Well, maybe just a bit… Still not sure if I wanna bring up the psychic thing or not.

Casca had urged him to wait for the right moment, but Hoshi wasn’t sure. There were a lot of bits to his present life that he needed to keep secret from his uncle, and revealing a genuinely uncomfortable truth might just sooth his conscience a bit.

…I’ll think on it during the party, he thought as the end of the tunnel came up, dismissing the issue with a light shake of his head. Darkness transitioned to light as the group walked out into the heart of the Gym, the floodlights at full intensity, and as his eyes adjusted Hoshi called out.

“Ha, Bob! Are you fucking with me?”

Strung up above the battlefield was a novelty banner, the kind you’d get for a child’s birthday party. In large block letters was a message that drew a guffaw from several people behind him: ‘CONGRATULATIONS ON BECOMING A MAN, HOSHI!’

The scene below the banner wasn’t much better, with his uncle standing beside a pikachu-themed cake.

“You think I’d dare, little man?” the giant replied, voice booming. “This is completely sincere!”

A blush on his cheeks and a slightly sharp smile on his face, Hoshi went forward to receive a hug. “You’re an old bastard,” he spoke into his uncle’s chest.

“You’re damn right!” Bob chuckled, and then the two released each other. “I’m proud of you Hoshi.” Then he turned to his ‘school friends’ and waved them in. “Hey, you lot! Come on in here and get some cake!”

And so the festivities started.

“Fine showing, Mister Mutsu!” congratulated another aging veteran – once, years ago, Hoshi would have known them all by name, but in the present those memories were too faded. “It isn’t often we see a young rattata solo a fully-grown pikachu!” Now the bulk of the Gym’s employees were only familiar faces, old soldiers who didn’t feel like putting their skills to pasture after the war’s end, and had found a place with the younger Lightning Lieutenant. Less of them than I remember. I guess that’s to be expected; it’s been a few years since I came around regularly, and pretty much all these guys are around retirement age.

But despite not recalling every name, Hoshi knew these people. “Thanks, sir. I’d like to take credit as her trainer, but honestly I think it was just Guts being Guts.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. Fighting spirit comes from the bond between a trainer and their Pokémon, and that isn’t something that one can fake.”

The handshake ended, and someone else approached. “How you holding up, stud?”

Hoshi bumped shoulders with his girlfriend. “Just fine so far. Are the others behaving themselves?”

She rolled her eyes. “Well enough. Puce has tripped, like, three people, but Kenny’s actually acting half-way respectable.”

“Well, he was a pro wrestler. That’s a kind of celebrity, right?” The two of them shared a chuckle. “But speaking of the others, do you know what’s up with Nerine? She’s super tense.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Casca’s eyes subtly gestured to the surrounding crowd. “Probably something we’ll have to ask about later.”

Got it – Rocket stuff. He took a sip of his soda. “And how are you feeling? I saw you talking to Bob earlier – I hope he wasn’t grilling you too hard.”

“Oh, just the usual concerned-parent things. Where do you work, how’d you meet, if you break my baby boy’s heart they’ll never find the body, that sort of thing.”

He half-snorted, fizz threatening to shoot up his nose. “The usual, huh?”

For a minute the two lapsed into silence, watching the party – maybe gathering was a better word, actually; it was a pretty sedate affair – move around them.

Then a sharp, repeating tink sounded out, and Hoshi’s head turned to see Bob tapping a spoon against a glass. “Okay soldiers: cake’s all done, so break time’s over! Let’s end this thing off with a bang – Hoshi, Sampo, Rose! Get on up here!”

“Here we go,” Hoshi whispered to himself as he handed his drink off to Casca, receiving a quick peck on the cheek before he walked towards the towering Gym Leader.

He and the other two successful challengers lined up, and Lieutenant Surge scrutinised them with a frown as he marched to each of them in turn. When he spoke his voice wasn’t quite as loud as usual, with a solemness that Hoshi rarely heard.

“Usually I’d only do this for my eighth badge challengers, but I’m feeling mushy today, so you get the whole spiel!”

To Hoshi’s left Ryan stood perfectly straight, his eyes facing unerringly forward, his powder-blue suit fit tightly to his frame. And then to his left stood Nerine, hair damp with sweat, also dressed up in a nicer blouse than she usually wore. The girl was obviously uncomfortable with the situation, averting her eyes as Surge looked her over. Seriously, what’s up with her? She didn’t have stage fright at the Rocket tournament, unless I’m misremembering…

Maybe she’s scared of Surge, specifically?

He tucked the thought away as the Gym Leader continued. “The roots of Kanto’s Gym Challenge come from way back in the First Shogunate Era, when each city-state had to defend itself from its neighbours! The leaders of each state, the Daimyo, were men and women who held incredible power, second only to the Shogun himself! And how do you think they held onto the power? That’s right, Pokémon! There wasn’t anything like Pokéballs back then, so people had to do it the old-fashioned way: beat ‘em up and train ‘em by hand!”

Surge paced from side to side, like he was giving the speech to real military recruits – which, technically, they actually were. “Even as the times changed and we entered the Second Shogunate Era, the system endured! In fact, the power the Daimyo wielded grew! As apricorns were shipped in from out west, the number of Pokémon any one person could control went from four or five, to dozens! It got to the point where there were so many, the Daimyo's families couldn’t handle them all! So where did those extra Pokémon go? That’s right, to their most loyal soldiers!”

Despite knowing Kanto’s history front-to-back, Hoshi listened intently; some things were simply sacred. “As the second Shogunate fell apart and wild samurai turned to banditry, who was there to defend the cities? That’s right, the Daimyo! But they didn’t do it alone! They had their guards, their Pokémon Trainers, out patrolling the countryside! Trainers from different states met up, battled, and gained each other’s respect!

“And so when Oak and the rest formed the Pallet League, that respect became an institution! You there, Sampo!” Ryan twitched as The Gym leader called his name. “Where were you born?”

The blond continued to stand tall, belting out the answer with a volume to match Surge’s own. “Viridian City, sir!”

“Viridian! You’ve come a long way, soldier!” From his pocket the Gym Leader drew a wooden case, opening it and plucking something from inside. He got up right in Ryan’s face, his expression intense. “As the Vermilion City Gym Leader, a man who a hundred years ago would have been called Vermillion Daimyo, you’ve earned my respect! This badge, the Thunder Badge, is a symbol of that respect! Wear it with pride!”

Ryan was silent as Surge pinned the badge to his chest, his eyes shining like polished topaz.

“Rose! Your turn! Where you from, soldier?”

Nerine didn’t twitch, though her face was turning a strange shade of pink. “F-fuchsia, sir.”

“Fuchsia! Knew a lot of good men from there in my heyday, more loyal than anybody else! You beat me fair and square, and earned this badge!” He bent down and, like with Ryan, pinned the badge to her chest. “And third…”

He turned and moved to stand in front of Hoshi. “Hoshi Mutsu. Where were you born?”

Hoshi wet his lips. “I was born in Viridian, but I consider myself a Vermilion native, sir.”

“You’re damn right.” Surge plucked a Thunder Badge from the case, and Hoshi took it in; an eight-pointed sunburst, yellow flames surrounding a red gem, the symbol of the Sunset City. “With this badge, the three of you are official members of Indigo’s Pokémon Trainer Corps.” Thick but dextrous fingers slid the pin through the shoddier blue of his own suit, securing the badge in place. “You’ve earned this. No matter where you got your Pokémon from, or how trained they were when you did, never question that.” Surge’s solemness lightened, his wild, savage expression returning. “You’re a real trainer. Be proud.”

He didn’t cry, but it was a near thing.

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

Later, after the furniture and decorations and refreshments had been cleared away, his uncle approached Hoshi again. “So, kid. How’d you like it?”

He snorted softly. “I’ll get you back for the banner. Becoming an adult…” But then Hoshi’s voice turned sincere. “It was great. No idea why I put it off.”

“Your old man was the same way, y’know. I had to basically drag the big lump to his own wedding.”

The two stood, watching the other guests mingle with the remaining Gym personnel. Ryan and Puce were schmoozing with the old folks with Nerine in tow, while Casca and Kenny stood among the younger employees.

“Speaking of weddings…”

“Oh, don’t even start. My answer hasn’t changed; talk to me when I’ve got a house and a car.”

Bob – and he was back to being Uncle Bob, now, not the Lieutenant – ruffled Hoshi’s hair. “Fine,” he said as his nephew sputtered. “An easier question, then. How far you gonna go, this season?”

Hoshi didn’t need to think too much before answering. “I think I’m done for the year. Only a month left before the tournaments start.”

“Yeah, but that’s enough to get a second and third badge. You could compete in some of the low-level events – even if you don’t win, those things are valuable experience.”

This time, he did put some thought into his response. “I think that… If I’m going all the way to Viridian anyway, I want to go all the way. Champion Series or nothing.”

“Ha! Cocky little shit! You think you’re Champion material?”

Enduring a second hair-ruffling, Hoshi shot back. “Did you think you were Gym Leader material when you started?”

Bob blew out a laugh. “Ha! I did, and I was a cocky little shit back then, too! Seriously little man, you probably won’t be ready for that kind of challenge for years. It’ll go faster if you pace yourself.”

“Yeah, but… I dunno. I can’t explain it; it’s just a feeling in my gut, telling me it isn’t time yet. Maybe next year I’ll change my mind, take some time off and see if I can’t knock out a few more Gym Leaders.”

“That’s the spirit!”

The two continued to people-watch as the afterparty broke up, the Gym employees getting back to their jobs. Hoshi’s group eventually wandered back together, and Bob gave them a nod.

“Well, I should probably be getting back to work. Take care of those badges, you three – and as for the rest of you, I’d better see you in here at some point for your own challenges! Ha!”

They took the cue, and Hoshi, his girlfriend, and his grunts put on their fancier-than-usual jackets and made for the exit – but a step from the door Hoshi stopped.

“Hey guys, wait up one second, alright?” he asked, then turned back around.

He found Bob polishing off the last scrapings of cake, and called out. “Hey, Lieutenant!”

His uncle turned. “Huh? What is it, kid? I thought you were already gone!”

“One last thing – you said you usually gave that speech to the eighth badge challengers… Well, I’m gonna make it true.” Hoshi pointed. “I don’t know when – next year, the one after, a decade from how – but I will fight your real team. When I’ve done my circuit around Kanto, gotten all seven other badges… I’ll come back here for my eighth. Be ready!”

Surge grinned his bloodthirsty grin. “Ha! I accept your challenge, little man! Don’t make me wait too long, now!”

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

On Monday, October 4th, 2010, Hoshi Mutsu woke up to find his bed empty. Huh, that’s weird – I didn’t sleep in again, so where’s Casca?

He slipped out of bed, and almost immediately his question was answered: Casca was eating breakfast, bleary-eyed and uncoordinated as she spooned cereal into her mouth.

“Morning babe. You woke up before me two days in a row.”

“Uhh,” she replied, and he chuckled as he went towards the bathroom.

After he showered off the lingering results of yesterday’s trip to the park, he returned to find she’d moved to the couch – though the television was off. Hoshi prepared his own breakfast with a strange twinge on the back of his neck, and as he slid in beside his girlfriend the twinge became a shudder. Wait…

“You smoking?” he asked, eyeing the unlit cigar she was turning over in her hands. “You only do that when you’re stressed. What’s up?”

“Hm? Oh, no, I wouldn’t say I’m stressed.” The cigar flipped this way and that, as if she was examining a strange alien object. “Just… thinking.”

“About?” he asked, cautious. Did she change her mind? Maybe the psychic thing is too much after all…

Before she answered the woman gave him a soft bop on the nose with the stick of perfume-infused tobacco. He reared back, momentarily affronted as she smiled softly at him. “Don’t think anything weird, stud.”

“Hey, I’m perfectly rational.”

She giggled, the sound… Oddly sad. Fuck, what’s wrong? “I was just,” she continued, “Remembering something your uncle asked me yesterday.”

Oh, come on Bob. “If he said something about marriage, he was just teasing. That’s the kind of guy he is; he likes to poke and prod until he finds a spot that sinks deep.”

Casca hummed, then tossed the cigar down on the table. “Yeah, but… I’m realising that I don’t have an answer to what he asked me.” She leaned back. “Hoshi… What’s it look like at the end? What are we aiming for, with us?”

Oh. This is… good? Maybe? “I… I’ve been trying to live my life one day at a time. Not stress out too much about stuff that might not happen.”

“I love you,” she said, and the three-word sentence bowled him over like a train had crashed into his forehead.

“Oh,” was all he could say for a full second. Fucking talk, dumbass. “I… I love you too.”

Is this the first time we’ve said that to each other? I think it is…

The apartment was silent for a moment, and then Casca blew out a breath. “I… I think love comes easy to me. The shallow kind, the kind that makes me a good listener and people person and all that. But… this feels different. I think I’m really in love with you, Hoshi Mutsu.”

His mouth was dry, so he swallowed. “I feel the same way. Not about loving easy – I don’t think I’ve ever really loved since my parents, not in the same way, not even Bob… But about this feeling different, yeah.”

Another lingering silence before she spoke. “I should’ve done this yesterday, after the party. You need to get ready for work…”

Hoshi shook his head. “I’ve got time. Please, talk to me.”

“I… I’d like to hear your answer. Your real answer, because I don’t have one. What’s the endgame? In a world where Hoshi Mutsu has won, what do things look like?”

He leaned forward, moving his breakfast from his lap to the table, then sunk back again. “That’s a big question.”

“It is. I’ve been living day-to-day too – for a lot longer than you have, I think.”

Maybe. The silence returned as Hoshi pondered – and then it was explosively shattered as his Arcus damned alarm went off; he’d forgotten to turn the thing off in his haste to solve his girlfriend’s disappearance.

…Well, that kind of answers some of it, at least, he thought as he angrily pressed a sequence of buttons embedded bone-deep into his muscle memory. I care enough to panic when I wake up and the bed is empty.

He returned to the couch in a slightly fouler mood, but in a way that was a good thing; the tension had been cut, and his thoughts felt clearer. “I…” he began, but then Hoshi paused and reversed direction. “In a perfect world… Well, first thing’s first, Kanto is back in Kantonian hands.”

Casca rolled her eyes. “Hoshi, I asked about us.”

“Let me build up to it, okay? In that fantasy world where everything goes right…” He chewed on his words for a moment. “Fuck, I’m not sure what kind government we’d end up with. Go back to the Shogunate and try for a third time? Whatever; the important part is that Johto’s out, and… the work is done.” Another pause as he gauged Casca’s mood, but all he got was a raised brow. “And I’m… My parents left me some land, right in the outskirts of Viridian, near Route 1. There used to be a house there, but it’s gone now. Got wiped out when the war started, right after I was born…”

“It was a miracle,” the memory of his father spoke unbidden. “If we’d left for groceries ten minutes later- it was a miracle.”

Hoshi wet his lips. “In a world where everything is perfect… There would be a house there, again. I would… raise tauros, maybe.”

“Not thinking of becoming Champion?”

He smiled. “No. I’m not… Maybe challenge the Champion. Maybe beat the Champion. But I wouldn’t want to be the Champion, or the Shogun, or the Emperor or President or whatever. I don’t have the head for that.”

“Hoshi,” Casca interrupted again, voice caught between amusement and exasperation and that still-lingering sadness. “You’re obsessed with history and economics and nerdy shit. Where does Kanto ranch most of its beef?”

His lip curled at the non-sequitur, but he couldn’t help but answer. “Pallet, but actually most of it we import from Johto. What’s your point?”

She only shook her head, lips quirking. “Never mind. So… The perfect version of my man is a cowboy. You know, that kind of makes sense.” The quirk turned into a smile, and a block of ice in his chest melted. “I can see it, a little bit. Keep going.”

Oh, just keep going, like this is easy or something… “”It would be a big house. Big enough for…” He swallowed again. “My wife. And… kids, I think.”

“You think?”

“...Yes. Yeah, in a world that’s completely perfect for me, there would be kids. But… Perfect is hard, right? Expecting everything to turn out the way I’d want…” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence, so he let it die.

Casca’s fingers fidgeted, obviously restraining themselves from reaching for the cigar. “I’m… not quite ready to think about getting married. Or… trying for kids.” Hoshi held his breath. Please, came that old-feeling prayer, an unknown request to an unknown god. Please… “But I can’t imagine waking up in someone else's bed anymore. Flirting with a guy as part of a job, yeah, seducing somebody maybe… But I think I’m ruined for one-night-stands.”

She looked at him, not quite crying. “So… I’m with you. Let’s try and get that cowboy home, stud.”

They leaned against each other, silent and too comfortable to move, too emotionally exhausted to even hug. Eventually Hoshi groaned and forced himself up for work, and as he slipped his jacket on Casca ghosted a kiss along his chin that felt…

Just a little bit like the future.

He wasn’t even late for work – and, he found, having a second hand made everything easier.