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ch 12.
But What If I Can't?

It was a white noise—the snowflakes falling over as I angled my nose to the skies, taking in their cold with my eyes closed. 

Perhaps you enjoy snowfall when you are a kid, but time changes it. You begin to savor its mighty chill more than its beauty or its plain white layers. 

"Pika?" 

My buddy clambered up to my shoulder, his nippy paws pressing against my hoodie. "I'm fine," I mumbled and forced myself to tread forward. Four more days to go.

And there was still no sign of her. 

Maybe I should let her go. A counselor-barista and a high-earning fashion designer? It was never meant to be. Not that she meant for it to.

"Pika!" 

"What is it, bud?" 

My starter pointed miles beyond what I could make out, his ears twitching. I squinted at the spot, making sense of a vague figure in the misty winter. 

My breath hitched when I caught the glint of gold under the flickering streetlights. 

"Serena?" I whispered as she sauntered to a stop a few feet away. Her head hung low, framed by her beautiful curls. At once, I got the message—this was the sign of someone depressed. 

My heart squirmed, wanting to reach out to her and hold her against the wintry breezes, but I stood rooted to my spot, hands swaying lightly at my sides. 

"Serena?" I called out, the name holding more weight than our last meeting. Without warning, the girl threw herself at me. I staggered slightly, caught off-guard by the force of her embrace. 

She buried her face into my chest, her fingers gripping my hoodie tightly, as if letting go would mean falling into an abyss. For a minute, I just stood there, hands floating above her figure, listening to her uneven breathing and the distant hum of the streetlights. 

My arms instinctively wrapped around the small of her back. The girl who was always sunshine and smiles was now crumbling, and I dared not tighten my grip—she seemed too fragile to bear it. But I was absolutely scared of letting go. 

"Serena," I whispered, softer this time. "What happened?" 

She didn't answer but tightened her hold on me. Her shoulders trembled. When I felt her hot tears—bitingly stark against the chill outside—wet my shirt, my heart crumbled. 

"I—I didn't know where to go," she choked out after a while, her voice muffled against me. I closed my eyes and matched my breathing to hers. 

"You're safe here," I said gently, gradually slowing my breaths. It took a nerve-wracking heartbeat, but Serena began matching my breathing soon. "I'm here." 

She pulled back slightly, using the back of her hands to wipe her tears. Then, her puffy red eyes met mine, making my knees buckle. "Ash," she started, her voice wavering. "I feel so lost." 

"Everyone does once in a while," I reassured her, my eyes softening. "It's okay. I'm glad you're here. We'll get through it, I swear." 

I frowned when she nodded and flinched, running her hands up her bare arms. Without another thought, I shook off my hoodie and draped it over her. The girl looked up, startled, but didn't resist when I grabbed her shoulders. 

"You're freezing. Let's get you in." 

She looked away, chewing her lip. "I messed up, Ash," Serena whispered, hugging the hoodie closer. When she looked up, I noticed the red-rimmed eyes—a clear tell of crying—instead of their usual sparkle. "Big time." 

Nodding, I squeezed her shoulders reassuringly. "I'm here now. I'll listen to you. But please, let's go in. You're too cold." 

She nodded weakly, not meeting my eye, and let me guide her. Pikachu hopped off my shoulder, sprinting towards the café. I let go of her to fumble with the lock and opened the door to let a blast of warmth hit us. The snow beneath us cracked as we stepped into the café. 

Taking out two Pokéballs, I released my flying types. They took one look at the vulnerable girl and immediately got to their tasks, all self-assigned. 

I led Serena to the table near the fireplace as soon as Talonflame finished lighting it. "Sit," I instructed, pushing her into the cozy seat. Pikachu immediately curled up on her lap, offering his warmth. 

Walking around the table to sit in front of her, I asked gently, "What happened, Serena?" 

The girl hesitated before looking up at me. I sat still, offering her a small smile. One thing I’d learned over the years as an unofficial counselor and Pokémon trainer was this: sit still and let your smile show how open you are. 

The trick seemed to work. Her lips quivered before she delved into the details. "I messed up everything! I accidentally misfiled some designs, and they ended up in the wrong collection. Misty found out and jumped to conclusions—she thinks Gary's seeing someone, that he's involved with... me." 

"I'm sorry." Her hands rubbed over her eyes, and I saw a few tears leak. "I don't wish to be a bother." 

"Not in the tiniest bit," I reassured her, reaching over to pull her hands away from her face. They were clammy with tears, but I didn’t mind. "I'm glad you came here." 

Her eyes met mine briefly before her gaze lowered to the table. "I feel like everything's falling apart," she whispered, more to herself than to me. "I tried to explain, but she wouldn't listen." 

"That's very uncharacteristic of you, Serena. I'm sure it wasn’t intentional," I assured her, running circles over the back of her hand. "Did you tell Gary?" 

"I tried!" she exclaimed, her voice suddenly rising. "But Gary was mad, Misty was mad, the entire situation was a mess, and he was so focused on calming her down. I don’t think he even heard me." She withdrew her hand, jabbing at her eyes again. "I'll get fired for sure." 

"Hey," I started again. Hawlucha chose that moment to enter with a tall glass of Cyndaquil Chocolate. He set it on the table and placed a clawed hand on her lap for a second. 

"Lucha-lu." 

I smiled at my Pokémon as he retreated to the kitchen. I didn’t have a direct translation, but his sentiment felt clear: It’ll be fine, Miss. 

"Hey," I repeated, reaching for her hand again. This time, I held it tightly. "You're really talented and experienced. I'm sure you'll find another job if you give it a try." 

Serena shook her head, her hair dancing about her face. She met my gaze again, and I saw the deep sadness in her otherwise bright eyes, unshed tears lingering. 

"I can't... Mom's only allowed me to work in a place where Clemont can keep an eye on me." 

I arched an eyebrow and couldn’t stop myself from pressing forward. "Why does it matter?" 

"Because he's my half-brother, and she trusts no other man but Dad and him with me." 

I didn’t know exactly what I felt at that moment—a mix of relief and disheartenment, for all I could come up with. 

"If she finds out I’m not in the same office as Clemont, she’ll drag me back home," Serena continued, her hand clenching into a fist under mine. It wasn’t just about her career but her independence and freedom too. 

I withdrew my hand, straightening in my chair. She looked up, almost longingly, at the loss of contact. "Then it will be fine," I voiced, putting on a smile. 

"How?" 

"I’ll make sure of it."