Music: 「SNOWPOINT CITY」by Zame

How does a villain become a hero anyway? Mindy laughed and mocked Kōki back then for accepting Gaspar. She soon became a villain. Well, that's when there were people around her. Now that there's no one but herself, save for the Pokémon and the butterfly pea plants, there was no one to make a villain out of her. Still, it didn't mean she was any more heroic than before.

Heroic - the last thing Mindy was inclined to describe herself as. Snarling at the blizzard, she trudged forward, the Grass-types lining up behind her, making her their meat shield. Snow rained on her alongside the rays of the blighted sun, the curved trajectory of the diamond projectiles inviting her to the eye of the vortex, to Snowpoint City, the city mapped out like a snowflake. That's all it took, a snowflake to whip up a blizzard.

"Hush... I won't hurt you. If I do, I won't be able to redeem myself," she said as she rubbed her hands together. She forgot her gloves.

The path to Snowpoint City this time was soulless, a blanket of ivory oblivion. It made Mindy enjoy the company of the caterwauling Pokémon who, sometimes shivering, sometimes sturdy, clung to her ankle, swapped positions in their line every few seconds, huddled together for warmth. When was the last she had been this close to a Pokémon without the pressure of judgement? Perhaps when Mindycham was around. No, even then, it had hurt. Then it must be when she was alone with Gaspar.

Ah, such sorrow impeded her, froze her in place. It all started with her meeting with Gaspar. But it didn't matter now, not when she must focus on saving plants and Grass-types in a hailstorm. The past had no place in the precarious present.

With her pinky, Mindy tucked her hair behind her ears. Nothing can block her vision now. The snow dusted her body, but she would endure the cold with clenched fists and gritted teeth, every once in a while turning back to ensure the Pokemon were alright, or looking down at the butterfly peas in her hands to see that they still seemed healthy. It'd be best not to cross paths with an Abomasnow or a random trainer who might be hell-bent on breaking her, so she was a tad relieved to have the blizzard be her only opponent.

Yet it felt like eternity. She felt like she was walking in circles, unending, reaching nowhere near her destination. Behind her, the Pokémon soldiered on without complaint. She didn't know if they trusted her or if they merely repressed every thought, every lament.

When her knees grew wobbly, she paused and the Pokémon bumped into her, a cry in unison echoing across the white horizon.

"Is this man's pain even real? This is downright ridiculous! I'm never getting nearer to Snowpoint City!" Mindy howled and squatted. Her heart hammered against her chest and she wanted to hammer or perforate the botanist's skull. Her pressed lips, quivering like a leaf in the wind on the verge of departing from its branch, gave way to an empty sigh, the void within spilling out, sprawling across the snow, its invisible footprints that gave her hope that she may somehow be led, by despair or by ire, to the dastardly city of ostracism. Snowflakes were pointy for a great reason, and now she knew why.

Her immobility held her in its lull, but nothing could beat the calming Grasswhistle sprouting out of the Grass-type's mouths as they encircled her and patted her with leaves and vines. The Lake Guardians tricked her, she decided. They must have created this elaborate plan to banish her from the world once and for all, leaving her with the illusion of warmth coming ironically from Grass-types in an ice-bound landscape, Grass-types that were more fragile than her. Warmth she realised wasn't exclusive to Fire-types.

Vigor seeped into her being as if she were a plant absorbing light for photosynthesis. She had once despised Grass-types for their vulnerability, which was why she sought a Medicham to enhance her psyche and fighting spirit against her shadow self. This rejuvenation convinced her otherwise, yet it also frightened her: if she was capable of accepting even what she hated, would she then accept that she would always be hated?

Mindy answered the thought with narrowed eyes and creased brows, rose and brought a foot forward. The blizzard curved ahead, claws out, that mocking pest. Mindy would have none of that. The blizzard was nothing but a crybaby on a temper tantrum and she was a plant, a tree if wanted to be, germinating in the harshest of conditions.

A holler took her sprinting towards the flickering mirage that was Snowpoint City, took the blizzard by surprise, coercing it to fold inwards, took the potted plants and Grass-types to their new home, a sure refuge from all things dangerous. The hail grazed her skin, but couldn't reach her hope. The gale razed her clothes, but couldn't strip her of her passion. She had never been freer than when she withdrew into her house, uncaring of the snow on her pearlie whites as she welcomed the blizzard with open arms, or she was truly T-posting as she ran to assert dominance, clinging to whatever ancient knowledge she thought would work in a progressive society.

She was indomitable.

Her laughter rang clear against nature's howl. She accelerated. Footfalls lagged behind her. In about a mile, Snowpoint City materialised before her. She did it. She survived. She reached the city immune to the blizzard. There would be a terrarium or a greenhouse, whatever fitted the bill of a safe, secure home for plants.

Her vivacity failed to infect her plants the way Pokérus often reinvigorated its hosts. Shrivelled petals, coupled with drooping stalks, were the last of the mighty butterfly peas.

Her jubilance undercut the weight of the Pokémon lying in snow, the peace she beheld only when she whirled around. They were more than exhausted.

Then she understood.

Her heart sank alongside her body, her head catapulting towards the snow, the chill rushing into her skull, her eyes. The mist roiling out of her mouth as she breathed blurred her vision. Her fists punched ice. Without her supporters, she was nothing, reduced into an empty shell.

"No fucking way..."

The Lake Guardians played her like a fiddle. The botanist punished her with newfound misery. Snowpoint City once again bound her to the stake and set it aflame. People, Pokémon, even inanimate objects were pointing fingers at her, deriding her, chafing at her ego, contorted faces of pained laughter, the kind that surfaced after a good bellyache-inducing cackle, surrounding her.

The path on which she trod was never going to get her to redemption; all roads led to ridicule, led to home. Why did she believe there was a way to turn the tables? Why was she so gullible? She hated every ounce of herself, wanted every gallon of blood to spill and dye the earth and snow red with vengeance.

Lying on her side, she wrestled with her eyelids for sight, only for the world to darken as Uxie hovered over to collect the butterfly peas and Grass-types.

When her eyes fluttered open, Mindy was sprawled on the hard tiles of the Pokémon Centre, a crowd gathered to take the latest pictures of shame incarnated. She was alone. No client, no Lake Trio, certainly no escape. Still, she got up with clenched teeth and the crowd parted as if she stunk from having worn perfume produced by Stuntank Merry.

Outside, Snowpoint City was as she recalled, save for an obnoxious glass dome in the middle of the city, a bubble in the snowflake. From where she stood, she made out a fluorescent lamp illuminating the dome inside out, light as bright as the sun, the perfect companion for the plants and Grass-types in there. In some way, it reminded her of a nursery. What piqued her interest most, however, was the Lake Trio. They circled the botanist whilst in hearty conversation. Curiosity surged through her being, and Mindy wanted to know everything they had to say, and anything they must've been saying about her. Perhaps this was all an elaborate plan by the botanist. Perhaps those Legendary Pokémon were Ditto.

She entered the dome. The heat made her cheeks flush. Her presence attracted the attention of all the Pokémon as well as the four conspirators she had a bone to pick with. Yet what was this cruel juxtaposition? Why were the Pokémon giving her Baby-Doll Eyes?

"You're back," Azelf said in a flat tone.

The botanist rubbed his hands together and branded a smile.

"Thankyer, Mindy," said he, shaking her hands incessantly, unaware of her daze, "I ne'er thought the day would come I'd thankyer. Yer collapsed hard. Feeling good?"

Mindy blinked and choked on her saliva when Mesprit hit the nape of her neck. Her eyes darted across the variety of plants till she found two familiar butterfly peas.

"Good. I... I'm good."

She pinched her cheek and warmth embraced her. Everything was real. No lie, no hallucination.

"Yer sure?"

The Lake Trio giggled. She shrugged.

"But how? The plants, the Pokémon... They were so weak earlier!"

The botanist glanced at Uxie. "They suddenly sprang back ta life!"

"And the blizzard?" Mindy arched a brow. Everything was too miraculous.

"What blizzard?"

And at once, Mindy understood what his greatest pain really meant. Pain extrapolated beyond the truth of frostbite due to the shadow of fear. But the pain, the sorrow she experienced was as raw as his joy.

Yet it's as if the pain never existed.