I enter the black room, standing alone in the footsteps of all my idols. From all angles, blinding white spotlights turn on and glare down at me, disturbed by my lack of companions. The six lights around the central one cast bright circles onto the floor, all of which are meant to be filled by my Pokemon team. I turn the still-warm Master Ball in my hand before placing it back in my bag and pulling out five modest looking Poke Balls.

One by one, I throw out my teammates.

Minerva.

Ten.

Reginae.

Pisces.

Fang.

In just over a year, we've done it. It wasn't the team I thought I'd be here with, and yet, seeing them silhouetted in the Champion's room, it feels as if it was fate. Despite their initial silence and awe, I can see purple bruises on Reginae and Pisces's skin, and the others are disheveled and panting.

Reginae catches my eye first.

"We did it." he confirms.

"We did it!" yelps Fang, and all the formality of the moment is gone as the Umbreon springs on top of me. Reginae and Minerva follow, helping me up, and Ten tries to initiate a group hug (and fails miserably). I pull out Hyper Potions and start spritzing the team up, which they all seem intensely grateful for, save for Pisces. She stares into her spotlight like a bug-type watching an open flame, unflinching.

"So, how did we do it?" asks Fang. "I mean, all of you seem just as shocked as I am. Who took out Bella? Pisces?"

Pisces doesn't move an inch.

"Minerva? Ten?" asks Fang, confusion growing in his voice. "Reginae?"

Reginae shakes his head. Minerva looks to the side, guiltily, and Ten shrugs his wings.

"Oh." Fang says, ears perked in realization. "Ashley, you didn't... you couldn't have..."

I catch Lance from a distance, turned outwards towards his room with his arms crossed. I know he's supposed to come out and congratulate me myself. The turnover of the Champion title is usually a televised event, with the new Champion's loved ones surrounding them, and I wish (not for the first time) that this could be a normal challenge with normal rules. Even if this was all over, though, the last few years have quelled my appetite for positions of power. If leading one team in treacherous circumstances is enough to break me, how would I ever lead the most powerful trainers in the region for the rest of my life?

"What now?" I ask Lance. He looks over and for just a second, I catch a glare so potent that it makes my heart stop and my skin grow cold.

The question hangs in the air between us for far too long.

***

"Well, we can all agree that he didn't go easy on us." Fang says, lying over the edge of the bed back in the hotel the next morning. I can feel their soreness as if I've sustained the wounds, the throbbing pain from their collective run-ins with Bella making my whole body ache even now.

Still, I'm not paying any attention. I stare up at the ceiling, tracing the ornate patterns on the wallpaper and thinking about the road ahead of us.

"Um, Ashley? Ashley?" Fang pokes my face. "You're in there, right?"

"She's thinking about the champion thing again," Minerva informs the team, and I feel my face burn with embarassment. The constant violation of my privacy is the biggest down

"Maybe a little," I admit. "Okay, maybe a lot. I just- this is a big deal. Possibly the biggest deal of my life. I guess I just can't help but feel like it's a bit anticlimactic? Lance might hate me now, too, so... that's going to be fun." I throw my hands out against both sides of the bed.

"You're not the real champion. There's some loophole with forced resignation due to prior engagements that Lance put us through so we can go through the Kanto gyms and fight Red." Minerva says, and I roll over onto my back, groaning and hoping my pillow will smother me alive. "What?"

"Not helping." Fang suggests. "So, uh, Ashley, how do we get to Kanto again?"

"We can talk to Elm about it," I tell them. "He's sure to have something, and better still, not likely to tell anyone. You ready to go home?" I ask the team, sliding onto my feet.

Well, it's not 'home' for all of them, but Reginae perks up like a flower in the sun.

"Blast," Ten murmurs, killing the excitement. He stretches out his wings, then with a pained wince, closes them again. "I'm not quite sure I can get us home. Does ayone feel, per chance, a little dizzy?"

"You mean like a Dragonite kicked me in the face?" asks Reginae.

"Different kind of dizzy." Ten clucks.

"Screw this, I'm going to go ask for transport." I say, flinging open the door.

"Someone ask for a ride?" asks Morty, standing in the hallway with a Drifbloom behind his back and a bouquet of roses in his right hand. He passes them to me, and I clutch them against my chest, startled. "Hopefully I'm not too late to congratulate you."

"How did you know?" I ask, pulling my hair behind my ears in some attempt to look like a Champion instead of a mess.

"Found out as soon as you won from Lance. Figured I'd come in the next morning, since it was so late." He shrugs, jostling his scarf.

"That's impeccable timing." I tell him with a smile.

"I've been out here for half an hour, actually." He admits.

"You can knock." I reply, trying not to snort.

"Would've killed the surprise."

I lose it and burst out laughing, kneeling over with the roses shaking as tears roll down my face. I don't know if it's just from what a ridiculous romantic he is or from relief or what, I just know that I can't stop and my throat is on fire.

"You okay?"

I give him a shaky thumbs up, which is about as good as it's going to get. My team, trying to edge their way around me to get a look at him, and I finally regain my breath and say, "Okay, all of you need to get in the Pokeball."

"What?" whines Fang, but the whole group, including a grateful Ten, return to their Poke Balls anyways.

I look back to Morty, and murmur, "Guess we should go."

We stroll outside in awkward silence. He stares at the ground and I hold the roses like a lifeline, grateful that he bought a bouquet without thorns. The Drifblim, whose name and gender I'm currently unsure of, watches us like an ethereal chaperone, its eyes on the back of my neck. When we get outside, it wraps me in its tendrils, with several of them under my feet and a few more around my waist. It's uncomfortable, like standing in the embrace of death, but Morty doesn't seem to mind. I hold back a scream as we leave the ground, and then, dizzy with adrenaline, sink backwards into a sitting position. The tendrils widen just enough so that I fit, but they still swing in the air as I move, giving the impression that they could give at any moment.

"You know, I thought bird Pokemon were terrifying but this? This takes the cake." I say, staring at Morty so I don't have to look at the ground.

"You're welcome." he replies, then continues, "Lance texted me last night, after you won."

"Lance texts?" I say, too distracted by the revelation to focus on the gravity of the situation.

Morty laughs, "Oh man, he's the worst. He texts like someone's grandmother, sent me a whole. I had to explain to him what half the acronyms mean and he sprinkles them in at really odd times now. Don't even get me started on his use of emoticons."

"How old is he, anyways?" I ask.

"Thirty, I think? Does anyone really know?" Morty says. "Anyways. The battle."

"Right."

The whistling of the wind makes the whole area seem bitterly cold. I remind myself not to look down and clench one of the Drifblim's tendrils with one hand, flowers still tight in the other. I should've put them in the bag before we left, I realize.

"He said you wiped half his team with 'the Gyarados'-"

"Pisces."

"-and the other half with... Ethan." He can barely say the word, and for a second there he was hanging on it like he was about to say Lugia or the abomination or something else unsavory.

"I was about to get wiped by Bella. He didn't tell you that, did he?"

"I'm not here to chastise you, Ashley. Lance is only pissed because in his mind the Champion battle is supposed to be this huge, noble affair and it ended up as this desperate struggle between the two of you instead with a trump card he never thought you'd play. He even bought out the Mega Stone because he was so excited about challenging you."

"Bet it is desperate near the end, when trainers go in there just to have their whole team's brains bashed out." I reply, ice in every word, trying not to add as you'd know to the end of the remark.

"Don't put me in the middle of this." Morty puts his hands up defensively.

"Yeah? Your gym took two of mine." I tell him, the roses cold in my hand as the wind is about my hair.

"I didn't- I would never-"

"Last time, Morty. Don't pretend you wouldn't have done it this time either. I get it. All we're good for is fighting- we're essentially just Pokemon with human privileges. Nothing else gives you that kind of adrenaline rush so you make a career out of it, you settle down, you keep fighting like the wild Pokemon down there until the enemy stops moving. I've been told multiple times by my own Pokemon, of all things, that I should embrace what I am. I had to, to get this far, but hell... I still hate the idea of living like this forever. Doesn't this scare you? How could anyone attribute nobility to it?"

"It's my job." he replies, though he's looking straight down instead of at me, at the rivers and forests and who knows what else below. "Look, I just wanted to know if you were going to try to help Ethan or not."

"I can't let anyone go. You know that."

"I do," he replies. "Good luck."

The Drifblim descends and lands with an unravelling of tendrils, setting me down on the ground before returning to its ominous floating position behind Morty, who it still has one appendage on. I can swear its glaring at me, but Morty, on the other hand, seems more sad than angry.

"I've got it from here." I tell him. "See you later. Thank you for everything."

I realize way too late that the whole confrontation was probably immensely rude. A lesser man might have been offended, given that he was just there to do something nice for me and I insulted his job and our common ally.

He's already gone. Shit.

I stash the roses in my bag. They crunch against the side, petals furled inwards and stems cracked down the middle.

New Bark must get smaller every time I come back. I'm arrested by a sudden urge to let Ethan out, to survey our old home together, which is stupid, reckless, and all the more enticing because of it. I wonder, not for the first time, if he dreams of the place, or if his memories are too scattered to remember the quaint town we spent the first thirteen years of our life in together.

Remembering my mission, I go to Elm's lab and knock on the door. His lack of response and the dark interior visible through the window inform me he has to be out, but luckily, I know just where to find him.

"Ashley! How nice to see you." Elm says as I enter my house. He's sitting with my mom, eating lunch, and the sandwiches look delicious from here. My mother waves, smiling politely, though she has a mouthful of sandwich. "What brings you home?"

I scramble for an excuse and decide to go for half the truth, if only because I'm too uncreative to come up with anything on the spot. "I wanted to know if there's any way I can get to Kanto from Johto aside from taking Victory Road there. I want to challenge the Kanto League before I take on the Elite Four."

"Kanto?" Elm takes a small, credit-card like object out of his pocket. "I happen to have a spot reserved on the next boat trip, over in Olivine. I was going to go there for research purposes, but if you want to take a few more gyms before you try for Indigo Plateau, I suppose I could oblige. You have beaten the eight Johto gyms, after all."

"Sweet," I say, feigning enthusiasm for his sake. "So, when does this boat leave?"

Elm checks his watch. "In a few hours."

"In what?!"

"Guess she's just going to run in, get what she needs, and leaves. Just like having a teenager in the house, Elm, I told you."

"Thanks, mom. I'll call you later. Anyways, I think I can make it. Thank you so much, Professor." I run forwards, take the card, hug my mom, and then open the door.

"Call me Dad," Elm yells after me.

I mean, I love the guy, but no. Not happening.

I release Ten, who tilts his head. "Looks like we're here."

"Yeah. I'm afraid I need you to run me over to Olivine." I tell him. "You think you can do it? I have more Hyper Potions, if health is the problem." I flip open the Pokedex to confirm my suspicions, but Ten's health bar is actually the only full one. I cast him a sideways glance, but he just looks confused.

"I could try." he says, with a faint attempt at enthusiasm, "Ready when you are?" Ten spreads his wings wide, this time without pain. I clutch his feathers and we take off, hurtling into the sky with the speed of a shooting star. For all Ten's complaints about 'wing pain', he can move awfully fast. I don't think I've ever seen him go this fast. It's infinitely better than riding that accursed Drifbloom, anyways, to the point where I'm almost enjoying myself.

We look like champions up here, with no one else to see us.