Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

—This world is inhabited by fascinating creatures called Pokémon.

That is what the documentaries, the professors in white lab coats, and the television commercials repeat every morning. They tell us they are everywhere: soaring through the skies, diving into the oceans, running through the forests, and living among us in the cities.

They sell us the idea of perfect harmony.

But anyone who has worked in the real world knows that "harmony" is complicated when your neighbor is a lizard spitting fire at 2000 degrees, or when a yellow rat can cause a blackout in the entire block if it gets too stressed.

Humans and Pokémon share this world, yes. We catch them in small spheres of technology and dreams, we carry them on our belts, we fight alongside them, we work with them. Some call them friends. Others, partners. Others... tools.

In every corner of this planet, young trainers leave home with a backpack and a cap, chasing the same shining dream: to challenge Gym Leaders, earn badges, defeat the Elite Four, and become the Champion. To become Masters.

That is the script. That is the story everyone wants to star in.

But I was never good at following scripts.

The constant hum of the jet turbines was the only thing keeping me from hearing the accelerated beating of my own heart. I looked out the oval window; below us, the infinite ocean crashed against the rugged coasts of a massive island. Galar.

—Look at that, Subaru! It’s Wyndon Stadium! —My father’s voice boomed in the first-class cabin, as powerful and full of energy as when he shouted orders on the battlefield.

Kenichi Natsuki. The legendary former Elite Four member of Kanto, a Fighting-type specialist, the man whose muscles and charisma seemed to occupy all the available space in any room. Even now, retired, his presence was overwhelming.

—Yeah, Dad. It’s... big —I replied, sinking further into my seat.

—It’s huge! It’s the stage where legends are born! —My father slapped my shoulder hard enough to almost knock the wind out of me—. Come on, son! Doesn't your blood boil? We are in the cradle of Dynamax!

My mother, Naoko, sitting on the other side of him, let out a soft giggle while peeling a berry to give to her Clefable. —Kenichi, keep your voice down, you’re going to scare the other passengers. And leave Subaru alone, it’s been a long trip.

I stroked the black fur of Umbreon, who was sleeping curled up in a ball on my legs. He was the only one who seemed to understand my silence.

Everyone expects great things from the son of an Elite Four member. The story was written before I was even born: at ten years old, Subaru Natsuki would take his backpack, choose a starter, and go out to conquer the Kanto League, following in his father's footsteps. It’s what everyone I knew did.

But not me.

When I turned ten, I stayed. When I turned twelve, I was still in my room. At fifteen, people stopped asking "When are you leaving?" and started whispering "What’s wrong with him?".

I was afraid. A paralyzing fear of going out into the world and discovering I wasn't special. Fear of losing a battle and staining the Natsuki name. So I chose a different path. I became a Pokémon Rescuer.

—It’s noble work —I tell people—. I save lives in mountains and natural disasters. It’s more important than winning badges.

But deep down, I know the truth. I am not a rescuer out of heroic vocation. I am one because in rescue work there are no winners or losers. There are no scoreboards. There is no audience waiting for you to be as strong as your father. It is my refuge, my excuse not to compete. My cowardice disguised as altruism.

—They say this year the tournament will be historic —my father said, looking at the clouds with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes when he looked at me—. I wanted to see it with my own eyes. And I wanted us to see it together, as a family.

I clenched my teeth. Liar.

Dad says we came on vacation to see the World Coronation Series. He says he wants to enjoy his retirement watching high-level battles. But I know him. I know what he’s thinking when he sees my sanpaku eyes, always on the defensive.

He believes I am stagnant. He believes I am rotting in Kanto, hiding in his shadow.

This trip isn't tourism. It’s an intervention.

He remembers the only moment in my life when I was genuinely extroverted, brave, and happy without strings attached: that summer camp here, in Galar, years ago. That summer where I met those two girls... That summer where I wasn't "Kenichi's son," but simply Subaru.

He brought me here with the hope that the air of Galar would "fix" me. He believes that if he takes me out of my comfort zone, if he exposes me to the grandeur of battles again, magically I will stop being the cowardly rescuer and become the trainer he always dreamed of.

“Attention passengers, in one hour we will be arriving at Wyndon Airport...”

The plane banked. Umbreon woke up, digging his claws gently into my pants due to the pressure change.

—We’re here, partner —I whispered, feeling a mixture of nausea and nostalgia—. In your old home.

I looked down at the region stretching out like a giant chessboard. Maybe Dad was right about one thing. Maybe coming back here would change things. But as I watched the immense Rose Tower piercing the sky, I had a dark premonition.

The constant hum of the jet turbines was the only thing filling the silence between my father and me. My mother had fallen asleep a while ago, with her Clefable curled up against her shoulder, but I kept looking out the oval window at the new landscape.

I felt a heavy presence beside me. I didn't need to turn to know that Dad was watching me. I could feel his gaze, that same intensity with which he analyzed the weaknesses of a challenger, now focused on the back of his own son's neck.

—hey, Subaru —his voice broke the static air of the cabin, lowering the volume so as not to wake Mom, but maintaining that vibrant energy that was natural to him—. Are you excited? We’re almost there.

I petted Umbreon's back, still asleep on my lap. —I guess. 

Dad leaned in a little closer, invading my personal space with a hopeful smile. —It’s the land of Dynamax, son. The Pokémon here are strong. Different. —He paused, and his tone changed slightly, becoming more suggestive—. Maybe it’s a good opportunity to... you know, expand the team.

My fingers stopped over Umbreon's ears. I went rigid. —Umbreon and I are fine, Dad. We make a good team in rescues.

—I know, I know. He’s a great partner —he hurried to say, raising his hands in a gesture of peace, but then lowered a hand to pat my knee—. But you can't leave everything to him all the time, Subaru. A trainer... I mean, a man, needs variety. Needs options. If you limit yourself to just one, you stagnate. Maybe you'll find something here that reignites that spark.

I pursed my lips. There it was. The veiled criticism. «Your team is small. Your ambition is small. You are small.»

But he wasn't finished. His expression softened, shifting from "Veteran Trainer" to "Worried Father."

—And not just Pokémon —he continued, giving me a conspiratorial nudge that felt forced—. Maybe you'll make some human friends this time. Or... female friends? —He winked at me, clumsily—. Galar has very cute girls, you know? Maybe you'll find someone who makes you want to come out of that cave of yours.

I rolled my eyes, about to unleash a sarcastic reply to cut the conversation short. —Dad, please, don't start with...

But the words died in my throat.

"Female friends."

The phrase didn't cause the usual irritation. Instead, it acted like a rusty key turning in an old lock at the back of my mind.

My vision unfocused, ceasing to see the clouds of Galar and seeing something that happened a long time ago.

The smell of wet grass. The smoke of a campfire stinging my eyes. I wasn't alone. I wasn't scared under my father's shadow. I was running.

The memory was blurry, like a photograph left in the sun too long, but the colors were vivid. Silver and Blue.

I remembered a crystal-clear laugh, almost magical, coming from a silver-haired girl who tried to teach me to pronounce ancient words with adorable seriousness. I remembered a shy but fierce gaze, hidden behind bangs of sky-blue hair, from a girl who always made sure my curry plate was full when no one was looking.

Emilia. Rem.

Even their names sounded strange in my head now, like echoes of a life that didn't belong to me. But I remembered the feeling. In that camp, far from Kanto, far from the expectations of "Kenichi's Son," I was free. I was loud, I was brave, I was... me.

—...Subaru? —My father's voice brought me back to the present with a jolt.

I blinked, realizing I had been staring into the void with my mouth slightly open. Dad was looking at me, not with disappointment, but with a strange mix of curiosity and hope. He knew. He remembered that summer better than I did, because it was the last time he saw his son truly happy.

I looked down at the red brick cities stretching out under the plane's wing.

—I didn't come looking for a girlfriend, Dad —I muttered, turning back to the window to hide my eyes—. I just came to see the tournament.

But my heart was beating faster now.

Kenichi Natsuki didn't do anything without a reason. This trip wasn't just to see battles. He had brought me to the scene of the crime. He had brought me to the place where I was happy, hoping that if I walked through the same places, the "old Subaru" would return.

I hugged Umbreon tight, feeling a mix of anxiety and a painful pang of nostalgia.

Would they still be here? Would they remember the weird kid from Kanto they played with for a single summer? Probably not. They were probably incredible trainers now, far out of my league, while I was still just a rescuer afraid to fight.

The plane banked for landing, and for the first time in years, I felt something more than apathy. I felt fear. Fear of encountering the past... and fear that the past wanted nothing to do with me.

The high-speed train glided smoothly over the magnetic rails, crossing the immense Wild Area. The landscape was savage and beautiful, but my mind was busy calculating dates.

Three weeks.

The World Coronation Series didn't start for three weeks. The preliminary rounds, however, opened registration in one. Dad hadn't mentioned that "little detail." If we were just coming to watch, we would have arrived on opening day. But arriving this early meant only one thing: he expected me to sign up. To "seize the opportunity" since we were "coincidentally" here.

I let out a long sigh, fogging up the glass slightly.

Behind me, I could hear the low murmur of my parents. Mom was laughing at something Dad said, probably some exaggerated anecdote about his glory days. I was glad they were sitting together; it gave me space to wallow in my own misery.

I closed my eyes again, seeking refuge in that memory my father had awakened.

It was curious. Now that the door was open, the details were returning with more force.

I remembered the girl with silver hair. Emilia. I remembered how desperately clumsy she could be despite looking like a fairytale princess. Once she tried to heal a scratch on my knee and ended up tangling herself in the bandage, apologizing a thousand times with her ears red from embarrassment. She was... gentle. Painfully gentle.

And then there was Rem. The girl with blue hair. She was different. If Emilia was the one who worried, Rem was the one who acted. I remember she used to scold me for climbing trees or bothering wild Pokémon. Her tone was strict, almost maternal, but she always ended up sharing her sweets with me when no one was looking.

“Subaru-kun is reckless “she used to say. But she never let go of my hand when the forest got dark.

—Excuse me, is this seat taken?

The soft voice pulled me from my thoughts, but not enough to make me turn my head. I kept looking out the window, absorbed in the ghosts of my childhood.

—No, go ahead —I replied on autopilot, without taking my eyes off the grayish landscape.

I heard the sound of fabric moving and someone taking the seat right in front of me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of color. An immaculate white coat, elegant boots, and... long hair. Hair of a silver color so bright that for a second I thought it was a reflection of the sun on the glass.

But I didn't pay attention to her. My "low profile" policy included not interacting with strangers on trains, especially with girls who looked like they stepped out of a fashion magazine. She was surely some rich tourist or a Contest Coordinator. Nothing to do with a dirty, tired rescuer like me.

However, the atmosphere in the compartment changed. The temperature seemed to drop a couple of degrees, becoming cool and pleasant.

I felt a movement in my lap.

Umbreon, who had been sleeping like a log the whole trip, suddenly tensed up. His long black ears perked up like satellite dishes.

—What's wrong, buddy? —I whispered, scratching behind his ear to calm him.

But Umbreon wasn't looking at me. His red eyes, usually bored or stoic, were locked on the lap of the girl in front of us.

I raised my gaze, following my Pokémon's.

There, settled with natural elegance on the stranger's legs, was a Glaceon.

It was a beautiful creature, with pale blue fur that looked like it was made of crystallized ice. The Glaceon had its eyes closed, resting, but the moment Umbreon moved, she opened one eye.

Their gazes met.

Red against Dark Blue.

Umbreon let out a low sound, not a growl, but something more like a chirp of surprise, something he hadn't done since he was an Eevee. His tail began to move slightly, thumping against my stomach.

The Glaceon raised her head, her diamond-shaped ears trembling. She sniffed the air once, delicately, and then fixed her sight on Umbreon with an intensity that gave me goosebumps.

There was... recognition.

—Oh? —The girl in front of me seemed to notice her Pokémon's reaction. Her voice had a musical tone, of curiosity? No, it was more like amusement—. What's up, girl, does he remind you of something?

She was speaking. Basic courtesy dictated that I should look at her and respond. But my brain was stuck on Umbreon's reaction. My partner didn't usually take an interest in anyone. He and I were two loners against the world.

Why was he looking at that Glaceon as if he had just found a missing piece of himself?

I let out a short, dry laugh, shaking my head.

—Hey, easy there, Playboy —I muttered, scratching behind his ear with a touch of mockery—. I know she's cute, but have a little dignity, will you? I guess you're at that age, huh? Hormones don't spare even Dark-types.

Umbreon shot me a look that, if he could speak, would have been a very creative insult. But he ignored my comment and went back to emitting that anxious chirp toward the Ice Pokémon.

I sighed, defeated by his insistence.

—Okay, okay. Go say hello. But behave yourself dude.

I leaned down and grabbed him under his front paws, lowering him gently to the floor of the train aisle. Then, without raising my gaze beyond the elegant boots of the girl in front of me, I made a vague gesture of apology with my hand.

—Sorry if he's bothering you —I said, keeping my eyes fixed on how Umbreon approached the Glaceon with his tail moving like a metronome—. I'm a rescuer. My partner is used to approaching anyone who looks... well, anyone. Sometimes he's too friendly for his own good.

The girl didn't reply immediately. There was a brief silence, broken only by the sound of Umbreon's paws on the carpet.

—It's... it's no bother —she finally replied. Her voice was soft, like a silver bell, but I was too busy watching my feet to process the tone—. It seems like... they get along.

On the floor, the interaction was strange. It wasn't the typical "sniff of recognition" between two strangers. Umbreon had approached and gently bumped his forehead against the Glaceon's. She, far from pulling away, had lowered her head, allowing the contact, closing her eyes with an expression of absolute peace.

They looked like two puzzle pieces that had just clicked together.

Wow, I thought, raising an eyebrow. He has charm. Maybe I should learn from him.

Seeing Umbreon like that, so connected with another being, made me feel a strange pang in my chest.

—Umbreon... —I whispered his name, almost out of inertia.

Now that I thought about it, it was curious. We had been together since he was a skittish little Eevee and I was a kid who didn't want to leave his room. Eight years. Almost a decade sharing a bed, food, and fears. And yet, I had never given him a proper name.

To Dad, his Machamp was "Kinniku." To Mom, her Clefable was "Luna." But to me, he was always simply "Umbreon." Or "partner." Or "friend."

Why?

I suppose, deep down, giving him a proper name felt like a commitment I wasn't ready to make. Trainers give names. Trainers forge bonds to travel, to conquer leagues, to write stories. Giving him a name would have meant accepting that we were a "team" destined for something great.

Leaving it as "Umbreon" was my way of saying: "We aren't special. We're just a boy and his Pokémon surviving day to day." It was a barrier. A safety distance to remind myself that I wasn't like my father. That we weren't on an epic adventure, but simply... existing.

But seeing how he greeted that Glaceon, with a familiarity I envied, I wondered if that distance only existed in my head.

—He has very beautiful fur —the girl said suddenly, pulling me from my introspection.

—Thanks. I brush him myself —I replied automatically, still not looking her in the face, focused on picking an imaginary piece of lint off my pants—. It's the least I can do. He does all the hard work in the rescues, I'm just the transport.

The train took a gentle curve. Umbreon and Glaceon separated slightly, but remained sitting together in the aisle, their tails brushing subtly.

If I had looked up at that moment, I would have seen that the silver-haired girl was staring at me with violet intensity, biting her lower lip as if she were trying to solve an impossible riddle. But I kept looking at the floor, convinced that my Pokémon was simply flirting, blind to the massive coincidence that destiny had just dropped into my lap.

—So... you really are a rescuer?

The question floated in the air, soft but insistent. I blinked, surprised that the conversation hadn't died after my apology.

—Huh? —I finally looked up, though only to the height of her hands, which rested delicately on her knees—. Ah, yes. That's what it says on my license.

She leaned forward slightly. I could feel her gaze examining me, not with judgment, but with a curiosity that I found uncomfortable.

—And you aren't coming for the tournament? —she insisted—. Most people traveling to Galar with a Pokémon at this time of year come to compete. Your Umbreon looks... very well cared for. It's obvious you have a strong bond.

I let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of my neck. The idea of Umbreon and me in a stadium, under the lights, competing against monsters capable of destroying mountains, was ridiculous.

—No, no. Nothing like that —I denied with a wave of my hand, downplaying it—. For starters, my Umbreon is a pacifist. He doesn't even know real offensive moves. He's pure support and defense.

I lowered my voice, as if telling her a disappointing secret.

—I'm just a simple, boring town rescuer, miss. My job is pulling people out of holes or getting Meowth down from trees. I'm not cut out for stadiums.

I hoped that would cut the topic short. Usually, when you say you're "boring," people lose interest and go back to their phones. But not her. She let out a small sound, a thoughtful "hmm" that made me feel exposed.

Why does she keep asking? I thought, frowning slightly as I watched out of the corner of my eye how Glaceon gently nudged Umbreon with her nose. Maybe she's just trying to be polite because our Pokémon decided to become best friends in the aisle. Yeah, that must be it. Traveler's courtesy.

I decided to play along so as not to be rude. I pointed at Umbreon with my chin.

—Besides, he doesn't even have a name —I added, shrugging—. He's always just been "Umbreon." Giving them nicknames... that feels like something for Trainers, you know? The kind who want to leave their mark on the world. I'm not one of them. What about your Glaceon? —I asked, gesturing to the elegant ice creature—. I guess a beauty like her must have an elegant name. "Crystal"? "Aurora"?

For the first time, the girl let out a little giggle. It was a genuine, amused sound that made my parents stop talking for a second behind me.

—No, she doesn't have a name either —she admitted, looking at her Pokémon with affection—. She's still just Glaceon.

—Really? —I arched an eyebrow, surprised. She didn't seem like the type of person to avoid names out of fear of commitment like me.

—It's not for lack of trying —she said, lowering her voice a bit, as if afraid Glaceon might hear her—. I wanted to give her one years ago. I had a whole list of pretty names. But... let's just say she has a lot of character.

She smiled, a nostalgic smile that lit up her face even though I was still avoiding looking her directly in the eyes.

—The first time I called her by the name I chose... she disliked it so much she slapped me in the face with her tail —she said, unconsciously bringing a hand to her cheek—. And she was still just a little Eevee back then. Since then, I decided she would choose her own name when she was ready.

A slap with the tail...

My eyes widened. My hand stopped halfway to petting Umbreon.

That phrase. That specific situation. It wasn't the first time I had heard that story.

The noise of the train seemed to fade. The present dissolved, and suddenly, I was no longer in a first-class carriage heading to Wyndon. I was sitting on the grass, under the summer sun of eight years ago.

We were crouching behind some tall bushes. I remember Rem tugging on the sleeve of my shirt, whispering that it was dangerous, that we should call an adult. Emilia watched with wide eyes, worried.

In front of us, cornered against a fallen log, were three Eevees.

They were a pitiful and adorable sight at the same time. Two of them were trembling with fear, hiding behind the third. One was strangely pale, almost silver —a Shiny, I learned years later— and seemed the most scared of them all. The other was a bit bigger and more robust, but just as shy.

But the third one... the third one was different.

He was small, dirty, and his fur was bristling. He looked nothing special at first glance. He was the most common Eevee in the world. And yet, he was planted there in front, legs spread and teeth bared, acting as a wall to protect his siblings. He was growling with a ferocity that was too big for his small body.

—Be careful, Subaru-kun —Rem warned with her serious little voice—. He's scared. He's going to attack.

—We can't leave them here —Emilia said, her voice trembling—. They look hungry...

—Relax —I said, acting brave, even though my knees were shaking.

I took a step forward. I reached out my hand.

The guardian Eevee didn't hesitate. He launched himself forward like a spring and sank his teeth into my hand.

—Subaru! —the two girls screamed.

It hurt. Of course it hurt. I felt the sharp prick and saw a drop of blood. The other two Eevees squealed, ready to run. But I didn't move. I didn't pull my hand back. I didn't scream. I felt my tears coming out, but even then, I didn't move.

I simply stood there, letting him bite me, and with my other hand, I started to pet his head clumsily.

—It's okay... —I whispered, ignoring the throbbing pain in my fingers—. It's okay now. You're very brave, aren't you? Protecting your friends... You're amazing. No one is going to hurt you. I've got you covered.

The Eevee tensed under my palm. Little by little, the pressure in his jaws loosened. He looked at me with huge, dark eyes, confused at not having received a blow in return. That was the moment. That was the silent pact.

The memory accelerated, becoming a sequence of warm images. The three of us, sitting in a circle, sharing our snacks with the Pokémon. Rem bandaging my hand with clinical seriousness while the silver Eevee ate from her hand. Emilia laughing while the bigger Eevee climbed onto her shoulder.

And then... the moment of the names.

I remember Emilia, with that radiant smile and her terrible, terrible sense for names, lifting her Eevee into the air.

—I know! You are so cute that you shall be named... Chocorina!

The silence in the forest was tomblike.

—Or maybe... Little Beauty of the Forest?

Whack!

The memory of the Eevee's fluffy tail impacting with a dry sound against Emilia's cheek was so sharp I could almost feel it. I remember how Rem and I laughed while Emilia rubbed her red face, totally bewildered that her "genius" name had been rejected with such violence.

...

—Hahaha...

The laugh escaped me in the present, a soft and genuine laugh that made my chest vibrate.

—What a coincidence —I said, shaking my head as the fog of the memory dissipated, leaving me back in the train seat—. You know, I met someone like that a long time ago. A girl with a terrible sense for names. Her Eevee also gave her a slap with its tail when she tried to name it something ridiculous like "Chocorina."

I wiped a tear of laughter from the corner of my eye, feeling strangely light.

—It's funny how Pokémon have that personality from when they're little, right? I guess your Glaceon and that Eevee would have gotten along w—

I looked up. Finally, I stopped looking at the floor, stopped looking at Umbreon, and looked at the person I was talking to.

The words died in my mouth.

The white coat. The elegant posture. But above all, those eyes. Eyes the color of amethyst, bright and deep, looking at me with a mix of confusion and surprise upon hearing the name Chocorina. And that hair... that silver hair like moonlight, which not even the passage of eight years had been able to dim.

Time stopped in the carriage. The sound of the train, my parents' voices, everything disappeared.

My heart gave a lurch so violent it hurt. It couldn't be. The odds were impossible. Galar was huge. It had been eight years.

But there she was. The girl from the forest. The owner of the Eevee that was my Umbreon's partner. My first childhood crush.

My mouth opened, but no sound came out. Only a choked whisper that even I wasn't sure I had pronounced.

—...Emilia?

The name slipped from my lips like a trembling question. I expected a moment of silence, perhaps a nostalgic tear, or a smile of mutual recognition. You know, like in the movies.

What I got was an indignant snort.

—Unbelievable! —she exclaimed, crossing her arms with such force that her white coat crinkled—. Absolutely unbelievable, Subaru!

—H-huh? —I blinked, recoiling instinctively at the change in attitude.

—First, you sit there and spend half an hour talking to the floor —she started listing, raising a finger with each accusation—. You didn't even look me in the face! Your Umbreon had to go down and say hello for you to deign to notice my existence!

—No, wait, I was just... —I tried to stammer, feeling the heat rising to my neck.

—Second —she interrupted me, raising another finger—, you dare to mock my naming sense! "Chocorina" was an adorable name with a lot of meaning! And for your information, this Glaceon is that very same big and strong Eevee we took care of, and she loves me very much even if she has strong opinions about my names!

I felt some sharp, rhythmic taps on my shin. I looked down. The Glaceon, with an expression of offended dignity identical to her owner's, was kicking me gently but firmly with her front paws. Beside her, Umbreon was sitting, slowly shaking his head and covering his eyes with one ear, as if saying: "You asked for it, partner. I'm not saving you this time."

—And third... —Emilia's voice lowered in volume, losing the explosive fury to give way to something much more painful. Her amethyst eyes shone, but not from anger, but from a damp sadness—. You didn't recognize me! After all this time waiting, you couldn't even recognize who I am!

I shrank in my seat, feeling like the smallest person in the world. The guilt hit me harder than any Pokémon attack. She was right. She was absolutely right. I had locked myself so tight in my own misery and cowardice that I had ignored the person I wanted to see most.

—Emilia, I... I'm sorry, really, it's just that it's been years and I...

—And on top of everything! —She leaned forward, and her voice broke a little, the anger cracking to reveal something raw and painful underneath—. You broke our promise, Subaru! You said that... you thought you could just forget it!

The last words came out as a whisper, trembling with a mix of disappointment and a hurt so deep it made me flinch physically. Emilia looked away, biting her lower lip as if trying to keep it from trembling, her hand clutching the fabric of her white coat until her knuckles turned white.

I froze.

The air in the cabin seemed to vanish. The ambient noise—the hum of the magnetic rails, the distant chatter of passengers—faded into a dull buzz.

The promise.

It wasn't that I had forgotten it because I didn't care. It was worse. I had forgotten it because I had to.

The memory hit me like a freight train, shattering the mental walls I had built over the last decade. I saw the orange sky of a Galar sunset. I felt the rough bark of a tree against my back. I saw three children, dirty from playing in the mud, with their pinkies intertwined in a sacred pact.

I had buried that memory under layers of fear and insecurity. I had erased it because remembering it meant facing the truth: I wasn't the boy who made that promise anymore. I wasn't the brave trainer who was going to conquer the world. I was a rescuer who hid in the mountains to avoid losing.

I had broken the promise long before I got on this plane. I broke it the day I decided not to start my journey.

Damn it. I'm the worst.

A lump formed in my throat, dry and painful. I looked at Emilia—no, not the memory, but the girl in front of me. The girl who had waited. The girl who remembered. And here I was, having treated her like a stranger, proving that I was exactly the coward I feared being.

The silence between us stretched, heavy and suffocating. Glaceon had stopped kicking me and was now looking at me with narrow, judging eyes. Even Umbreon had lowered his ears, sensing my distress.

I had to say something. I had to fix this. Or at least, I had to own up to my failure.

I opened my mouth, my voice stuck in my chest. I wanted to apologize, to beg her to listen, to tell her that I never meant to hurt her, that I was just... scared.

—Emilia, I... —I managed to croak out, reaching a hand toward her, though I didn't dare touch her—. I didn't forget because I wanted to. I...

—HAHAHA! Would you look at that!

A heavy, calloused hand landed on my shoulder with the force of a Machamp, knocking the wind out of me and cutting my apology off at the root.

Dad poked his head over the back of my seat, with a smile that took up half his face and eyes shining with paternal pride.

—We've barely been in Galar for an hour and my son is already making friends! —Dad bellowed, totally oblivious to the nuclear tension in the air. He looked at Emilia, then at Glaceon, and then gave me a shameless wink—. And what a friend, huh... Pleased to meet you, miss! I'm this shy boy's father. I see you are already in the middle of a couple's quarrel... I mean, friends! That's good, passion is good!

Emilia froze mid-complaint, mouth open and cheeks turning from furious red to embarrassed pink in a second. Glaceon stopped kicking me. Umbreon sighed audibly.

And I... I just wanted the train to derail right there and for the earth to swallow me whole.

—Dad... —I groaned, covering my face with my hands—. Please... no...

—Kenichi! For the love of Arceus, keep your voice down!

My mother's hand appeared from behind, grabbing Dad's ear and pulling him down to sit. Dad let out a whine and let himself fall into his seat, though he was still grinning like an idiot.

Then, Mom poked her head through the gap between the seats, with that sweet, maternal expression that I knew hid a mortal danger. Her eyes settled on Emilia.

—I'm so sorry, dear. My husband sometimes forgets he isn't in a stadium shouting orders —Mom said with charming softness—. And from what I heard... my son has been causing you trouble too, hasn't he?

Emilia blinked, surprised by the change of interlocutor. She tucked her silver hair behind her ear, switching from "volcanic fury" to "polite girl" in a second.

—Oh, no, ma'am... well... yes —Emilia admitted, shooting me a sideways glance that could cut diamonds—. It's just that... I haven't seen Subaru in a long time. And when we finally met, he... he...

Emilia sniffled a little, pointing an accusing finger at me.

—He mocked the names I give my Pokémon! He said I have bad taste! —she accused, seeking the jury's sympathy—. And not only that, he refused to look me in the face during the whole trip, pretending he was talking to the floor. And he forgot very, very important things he promised!

I felt cold sweat running down my back. —Mom, wait, I can explain, I was just...

—Subaru Natsuki.

My mother's tone dropped three octaves. It wasn't a scream. It was the "I'm very disappointed" tone that hurts more than any Hyper Beam.

—Is that true? —she asked, staring at me—. You meet an old friend, a girl so cute and polite, and the first thing you do is mock her and break her heart by ignoring her?

—I didn't break her heart! I just have a bad memory! —I protested, raising my hands.

—And "Chocorina" is a very dignified name! —Emilia added, crossing her arms and nodding at my mother, sealing the alliance.

—Exactly! —Mom's hand crossed the space between the seats and gave me a sharp smack on the back of the neck—. Apologize right now! I taught you better manners than that! Mocking a lady's creativity... shame on you!

—But the name is horrible, Mom! Even you would laugh! —I tried to defend myself, looking for logic in a court that had already passed sentence.

—Don't yell at your mother! —Emilia intervened, joining the scolding.

—That's right, respect your mother! —Mom supported.

—Gla-glace! —Glaceon barked from the floor, taking advantage of the confusion to go back to giving me rhythmic little kicks on the shin, this time faster and stronger.

I was surrounded. On the frontal flank, Emilia's indignation. On the rear, Mom's authority. On the lower front, Glaceon's physical aggression.

I looked at Umbreon, looking for my only ally in this hell.

My "partner" was sitting calmly, chewing on a Sitrus Berry that Mom had passed him at some point. He looked at me, chewed slowly, swallowed, and then went back to looking at Glaceon with eyes of admiration.

Traitor, I thought.

—Hahahaha! —Dad's thunderous laugh filled the carriage again. He had settled into his seat with a bag of potato chips he pulled from who knows where, watching the massacre with pure delight—. That's the way! That is youth! Feel the pressure, son! It's a three-on-one, you're at a type disadvantage!

—You're not helping! —I shouted, covering my head while Mom went back to lecturing me on the importance of being a gentleman and Emilia nodded at every word with vengeful satisfaction.

The train whistled, announcing the arrival at the next station.

—I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! —I finally exclaimed, raising the white flag—. Sorry about the name! Sorry for not recognizing you! Sorry about... about the promise!

Silence fell over the compartment.

Emilia looked at me, her chest rising and falling a little from the emotion. Her expression softened, though there was still a glint of warning in her amethyst eyes.

—Hmph. —She turned her face away, playing hard to get, but I could see a small smile curving the corner of her lips—. Well... I suppose, since it's you, Subaru the dunderhead... I can forgive you for the name.

Mom let go of my neck and smiled at Emilia. —You see, dear, he's a clumsy boy, but he's not bad. He just needs... lots and lots of direction.

—Yes, ma'am. I remember he was always like that —Emilia said, and for the first time in eight years, our gazes truly connected, without anger, just with that electric spark of shared history.

—Welcome to Galar, Subaru —she said softly.

I sighed, defeated, with sore ankles from Glaceon's kicks and my pride shredded by my own mother. But as the train entered the darkness of the station tunnel, I couldn't help but think that, despite the disaster, Dad was right about one thing.

I definitely wasn't in my comfort zone anymore.

My fingers sank into Umbreon's black fur with a little more pressure than necessary. I wasn't hurting him, of course, but it was an aggressive massage, a vengeful kneading on his back. Umbreon, who usually would have bitten me for less, took the punishment stoically, eyes half-closed and ears drooping. He knew he deserved it for selling me out for a Sitrus Berry and a pretty face.

Emilia, oblivious to my petty passive revenge against my Pokémon, kept talking animatedly, her eyes shining as she remembered her journey.

—Really, Subaru, so many things have happened —she said, moving her hands elegantly—. After the camp, I took training very seriously. I traveled to Sinnoh with her... —She stroked Glaceon's head—. There she evolved thanks to the Ice Rock. It was an amazing journey.

She straightened up, puffing out her chest slightly with visible pride.

—We became very strong. In fact, we participated in the Sinnoh League last year. It was very exciting, we made it all the way to the finals against a veeeery strong woman named Cynthia. —Her smile faltered a millimeter, but recovered its brightness immediately—. It was a close battle. I almost won the League. Seriously, I was this close.

The movement of my hand over Umbreon stopped.

The words slipped from my lips in a barely audible whisper, an intrusive thought made voice.

—...Isn't almost winning just losing?

I covered my mouth with both hands instantly.

The sound of my teeth clicking against my palms resonated in my own head. My eyes went wide. Idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot!

There were no screams. There was no scolding from Mom. There was something worse.

Silence.

And cold.

Suddenly, I felt as if the train window had disappeared and we were flying at thirty thousand feet without a fuselage. An invisible frost seemed to creep up my ankles.

Umbreon went rigid under my hand, his fur bristling not from my massage, but from pure survival instinct.

Slowly, trembling, I looked up.

In front of me, Glaceon had opened both eyes. Her pupils shone with a pale neon blue, and an icy mist drifted from her slightly parted mouth, aiming directly at my throat.

And Emilia... Emilia was still smiling. It was the most beautiful, sweet, and absolutely terrifying smile I had ever seen in my life. Her amethyst eyes didn't blink. The temperature around her had dropped so much I could swear I saw a snowflake form on the tip of her nose.

—Excuse me? —she asked. Her voice was soft, melodic, like the sound of ice cracking under a frozen lake—. Did you say something, Subaru?

I felt the sweat freeze on my forehead. Umbreon dug his claws into my leg, as if saying: "If you die, I die. Fix it! NOW!".

—NOTHING!! —I squeaked, my voice rising three octaves from panic, waving my hands in front of my face as if trying to shoo away a Beedrill—. Nothing at all! I just said that... that... that losing must be... impossible for you! Yes! That's what I said! That surely it was a referee's mistake! Hahaha!

I laughed. It was a hysterical and pitiful laugh.

Emilia held that frozen smile for three eternal seconds. Three seconds in which I saw my life flash before my eyes: my childhood, my rescue career, and my funeral (where the cause of death would be "Sudden Freezing due to Verbal Recklessness").

Finally, the pressure in the air vanished. Glaceon closed her eyes again and curled up.

—Ah, I see —Emilia said, relaxing her shoulders and going back to being the sweet girl from before, though a spark of warning still lingered in her gaze—. I thought I heard something else. Must be my ears from the pressure of the trip.

—Yeah... the pressure... —I whispered, slumping back into the seat, totally exhausted.

Behind me, I heard the crunch of a potato chip and my father whispering to my mother: —That girl has character.

—Dad, shut up! —I hissed, on the verge of tears.

To relieve the tension of the "almost winning is losing" incident, I decided to change the subject to safe ground: work.

I told her about the time I had to rescue a Munchlax that got stuck in a chimney trying to eat the soot, and how Umbreon had to use his glow to guide me through a collapsed tunnel full of angry Digletts. Emilia laughed at the right moments, a clear laugh that made other passengers turn to look, even though I tried hard to make my job sound mundane and unglamorous.

—Anyway —I concluded, scratching Umbreon's chin as he purred in my lap—, that's why I tell you I'm not cut out for the tournament. Umbreon is a pacifist.

—Pacifist? —Emilia asked, tilting her head.

—Zero attacks —I confirmed, counting on my fingers—. His set is: Protect, Heal Bell, Wish, and Yawn. He literally couldn't do direct damage even if his life depended on it. Just heal, protect, and sleep. He's a first aid kit with paws.

I expected her to laugh or say it was a useless set. Instead, Emilia stopped short. Her amethyst eyes widened slightly, looking at Umbreon with renewed respect.

—Wait... Wish and Yawn? —she repeated, processing the information—. But... Eevee doesn't learn those moves by level up. Not even by TM.

—Oh, really? —I shrugged, downplaying it—. I guess he got genetically lucky.

—Subaru, that's not luck —she said, with that serious professional trainer tone—. Having both moves at the same time is extremely rare. It requires very specific and complex breeding.

—Who would have thought, you're actually cool after all.

My partner clearly detected the mockery and responded by burying his claws into my leg like the petty little creature he is.

The train emitted a long, metallic whistle. «Terminal Station: Wyndon City».

The carriage filled with noise. Passengers getting up, suitcases rolling, Pokémon stretching.

—Well, this is where we get off —I said, standing up and slinging my backpack over my shoulder. Umbreon jumped nimbly to the floor, shaking his fur.

We stepped out onto the platform. The air of Galar was different; it smelled of industrial smoke, curry, and... energy. A vibrant energy that made your skin prickle.

Emilia walked beside me, with Glaceon trotting elegantly next to her boots. She seemed to hesitate, biting her lower lip, until she finally turned to me before reaching the exit turnstiles.

—Subaru... —she began, staring at me—. Are you really not going to try?

I sighed, tired of the question. —Emilia, please. Look at me. —I pointed to my clothes, not the clothes of an intrepid traveler or a cool trainer, but those of a boring, average guy, then down at my little black fox—. I have no badges. I have no combat experience. And most importantly: I have no team. I only have an Umbreon who doesn't know how to attack. What am I going to do against a Gigamax Charizard? Yawn at him until he gets bored?

Emilia seemed to want to protest, to tell me that the bond was more important than strength, but in the end she just lowered her gaze, a little disappointed.

—I understand... I guess it's a shame. I would have liked... —She didn't finish the sentence. She shook her head and smiled, a slightly sad smile—. Well, it was nice seeing you again. Even if you didn't recognize me.

—I already apologized for that! —I retorted, feeling guilty again.

—Good. —She looked around—. Are your parents going to the same hotel as you?

I turned, looking for the familiar figures of Mom and Dad in the crowd. —Yeah, Dad was supposed to call a taxi while I got the...

I stopped. I looked left. I looked right. I looked toward the turnstiles. I saw families, I saw businessmen, I saw a Snorlax blocking an escalator. But I didn't see my parents.

—Dad? Mom? —I called out, standing on my tiptoes.

Nothing. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my Rotom Phone. There was a new message blinking on the screen. I opened it.

From: Dad «Son! Your mother and I saw the conversation was going very well, so we decided not to interrupt the romantic moment of youth. We took your bags to the hotel. Don't worry about us! Go keep your friend company, buy her an ice cream or something. See you at dinner! PS: Don't come back before 6 or I'll tell Mom to scold you again.»

I felt the blood drain from my face. They had abandoned me. They had thrown me to the wolves. They had left me alone, without luggage, in the middle of a foreign station, with the only implied instruction being "Go out with the girl or die."

—Subaru? —Emilia asked, noticing my paleness—. Is something wrong?

I forced a smile. One of those tense smiles I used when I had to explain to a client why their Skitty was stuck on the roof again.

—Oh, no, nothing serious. It's just that... my father, that being of light, that man so "nice and empathetic" that everyone adores... —I made air quotes with my fingers, loading every word with tons of sarcasm—. It seems that in his excitement to get to the hotel, he had a little mental slip.

I sighed, massaging the bridge of my nose.

—He forgot to send me the hotel's location. And, minor detail, he took my suitcase, where my wallet coincidentally was. So right now I am a hobo in a foreign city, penniless and destination-less, courtesy of the Great Kenichi.

Emilia blinked a couple of times, processing the information. Then, to my surprise, she let out a soft giggle.

—Wow. Your dad is very... spontaneous.

—"Spontaneous" is a very polite way of saying "chaotic" —I muttered, looking around the station—. Anyway, I guess I'll have to sit here with a sign that says "Responsible family wanted" until they realize they're missing a son.

Emilia shook her head, still smiling.

—Don't be silly. I'm not going to leave you stranded here. —She checked an elegant watch on her wrist—. Look, today I came to the Pokémon Center for a check-up for my team. I have the afternoon free. Since you're "lost" and I know the city... how about I give you a tour?

—A tour? —I arched an eyebrow—. For old times' sake?

—For old times' sake —she confirmed—. And to make sure you don't get into trouble. Besides, Umbreon and Glaceon seem to want to stretch their legs.

I looked at my Pokémon. Umbreon was already nudging Emilia's leg with his snout toward the exit.

—Fine, you win —I admitted, raising my hands—. Lead me, oh great almost-champion of Sinnoh. My fate is in your hands.

Emilia let out a soft huff, brushing a lock of silver hair over her shoulder with practiced elegance. There was a dangerous but amused glint in her eyes.

—I’m going to ignore that "almost" part just because you look pathetic right now —she replied, offering me a hand to get up—. But don't push your luck, Subaru. Or I might "accidentally" lose you in the Slums.

She smiled, a radiant expression that completely contradicted her threat, and turned on her heel, her white coat flaring like a cape.

—Come on, Glaceon! We have a stray to look after.

Wyndon was... overwhelming.

It wasn't like the cities in Kanto, which grew outwards. Galar grew upwards. Buildings of red brick and Victorian steel rose like fortresses, chimneys spewed white steam, and the sky was crossed by Corviknight flying taxis casting giant shadows on the cobblestone streets.

Emilia was an enthusiastic guide. She pointed out fashion boutiques, cafés famous for their curry, and, of course, the immense stadium that dominated the skyline like a rose of glass and metal.

I nodded and made occasional comments, trying not to look like a provincial tourist, but my eyes weren't on the shop windows. My eyes, out of professional habit, were scanning the environment.

—And that one over there is the Bobadilla Boutique, they have hats that... Subaru?

Emilia stopped abruptly when I veered away from her side without warning.

There was a group of workers hoisting a heavy neon sign onto a shop facade. The ropes looked old. Below, a little girl was running after her Yamper, which had slipped its leash and was barking happily right under the loading zone.

I didn't run. I didn't shout so as not to startle the workers and cause the accident. I simply walked fast and alert just in case.

The rope snapped. The metal sign plummeted toward the girl.

—Umbreon, Protect! —I ordered with urgency.

Umbreon jumped from my shoulder, landing between the girl and the falling metal. His rings glowed, and a hexagonal barrier of green energy materialized above them.

CLANG!

The hundred-kilo sign bounced off the energy shield as if it were rubber and fell harmlessly to the side, shaking the ground. The girl blinked, not understanding what had happened.

—Careful there, little girl —I said, handing her back her Yamper's leash before the barrier faded, while patting her hair—. That area is dangerous, so be careful, okay?

I turned around and walked back to Emilia's side while waving goodbye to the workers who were thanking me as I walked away.

—You were saying? —I asked, watching the girl return to her mother—. Something about hats at the Boutique?

Emilia was looking at me with her mouth slightly open, but she said nothing. We kept walking.

Two blocks later, chaos erupted in a side alley.

A wild (or abandoned) Obstagoon was blocking the way, roaring and swiping at the air, scaring a group of tourists. A couple of local trainers were already pulling out their Poké Balls, ready to order Flamethrower and Hydro Pump in the middle of the crowded street.

—Hey, hey! —I intervened, stepping in the middle before a pitched battle started—. Put that away! You're going to break the windows.

—That thing is dangerous! —shouted one of the trainers—. We have to weaken it!

—It's not dangerous —I corrected, pointing to the Pokémon's injured leg, seemingly from a recent fight, observing how the Obstagoon panted.

The Dark-type Pokémon saw me and lunged at me, claws glowing, ready to use Night Slash.

Emilia took a step forward, alarmed. —Subaru, watch out! Glaceon, use...!

—Wait, Emilia —I stopped her, raising a hand—. Umbreon, Yawn.

Umbreon didn't move from his spot. He simply opened his mouth and a large, lazy pink bubble floated toward the Obstagoon charging at us.

The Obstagoon bit the bubble, thinking it was an attack. The bubble burst into a cloud of sparkling dust.

One... two... three steps.

The Obstagoon stumbled. His eyelids slammed shut. The ferocious roar turned into a sleepy moan and, before reaching my feet, the enormous black and white badger collapsed on the ground, snoring loudly.

The tension in the street evaporated instantly.

—Call an Officer Jenny to take him to a shelter, but don't attack him —I told the stunned trainers, while Umbreon trotted back to my side.

The crowd's reaction was an instant cultural divide. A couple of tourists wearing "I ❤️ Unova" shirts nodded and pulled out their phones understanding the order, but the local Galarian trainers looked at me as if I had sprouted a third eye.

—Officer... who? —asked one of the guys in a sports uniform, scratching his head—. Do you mean Sergeant Bobby from the central station?

—Huh? —I blinked, indignant—. No. I mean Officer Jenny. You know: teal hair, blue uniform, perfect military salute, probably accompanied by a Manectric or an Arcanine... Universal police?

—Ah, yes! The police! —exclaimed one of the tourists in the back—.

But the Galarians kept looking at me as if I were speaking Morse code.

—What are you talking about, mate? —said the local, ignoring the tourist—. Here the police use yellow and black uniforms. And they definitely aren't all named "Jenny." That sounds creepy.

I was about to start a heated debate about global police standardization when Emilia let out a soft giggle beside me, taking my arm to stop me from arguing.

—Subaru, you forget where we are —she said, with an amused smile, shaking her head—. Galar is a bit... particular about that.

—Particular? —I scoffed—. It's anarchic!

—The funny thing is we do have Nurse Joys in all the Pokémon Centers, just like in Sinnoh or Kanto —Emilia explained, looking at the locals apologetically—. So healthcare is universal. But for some strange genetic or bureaucratic reason, the Officer Jenny clan never settled here.

I gaped. —Wait... you have Joys but not Jennys? —I asked, genuinely scandalized—. What kind of half-baked world-building is that?

Emilia turned to the confused trainers to translate my existential crisis. —He means call the local police. He's a foreigner, from Kanto, you know how they are over there with their family traditions.

—Hey! It's not a tradition, it's brand efficiency! —I protested, indignant, as we kept walking and left the chaos behind—. Are you telling me that if my wallet gets stolen here, I'm going to be attended by some random guy named "Kevin" instead of a professional genetically predisposed to justice?

Emilia laughed again, covering her mouth. —It'll probably be a "Bobby" or a "Harry," but yes. Kevin is also an option.

—Galar is a wild and lawless place, Emilia —I declared, hugging my backpack just in case—. A wild place.

—Now you're just being rude —she gave me a well-deserved punch on the shoulder.

We walked toward a nearby bench overlooking Rose Tower. Glaceon jumped elegantly onto the wood and Umbreon, with a heavy sigh, settled under the bench, in the shadow of my legs.

We sat in silence for a moment. The Galar wind blew cold, but pleasant.

—Subaru... —Emilia broke the silence. She wasn't smiling anymore. Her gaze was fixed on the horizon, where the League flags waved—. Why?

—Why what? —I asked, playing dumb, though I felt my stomach knotting.

—The promise —she said softly. She turned to look at me, and her amethyst eyes sought mine with painful intensity—. That summer... we swore it. We pinky swore. You said: "I'll come back to Galar. I'll be a trainer so strong my father will have to admit it. And then, the three of us will fight on the biggest stage in the world to see who the true Champion is."

I swallowed. The words echoed in my head with the voice of my eight-year-old self. A voice full of confidence, dreams, ignorance.

—You were so passionate, Subaru —she continued, leaning a little toward me—. You had that fire in your eyes. And I just saw how you handle Umbreon. You have the instinct. You have the talent. So... why did you abandon it? Why be "just a rescuer" when you say it like you don't like it?

I opened my mouth to give her my usual excuse. «It's safer», «I don't like violence», «I got lazy».

But the words died in my throat. Something dark and cold crept up my spine. A fleeting image, a flash of memory my brain kept under lock and key, battered against my eyelids from the inside. I didn't want to see it. I didn't want to remember that specific day, that specific cowardice, that feeling of suffocation that made me run away.

My hands, resting on my knees, clenched into fists so tight that my nails dug into the fabric of my trousers. My breathing stopped. For a second, the air of Galar disappeared and I felt drowned, trapped again in that moment of my past that defined everything I was now.

Under the bench, I felt a wet snout nudging my calf with urgency. Umbreon was there. He had stopped resting. He was whining softly, a sound vibrating against my leg, rubbing his head against me as if desperately trying to pull me out of the abyss before I fell completely.

My Pokémon's touch brought me back. I released the air I didn't know I was holding in a shaky exhale.

Emilia said nothing. She didn't pressure me. But when I looked up, I saw she wasn't looking at the scenery. She was looking at my white-knuckled hands. She was watching how Umbreon clung to me with evident concern.

She saw it. She saw the crack in my mask.

—Life stuff, Emilia —I said finally. My voice sounded raspy, fragile, nothing like the carefree tone I was trying to fake—. Personal matters. Let's just say... reality hits harder than dreams.

Emilia held my gaze a second longer. There were questions in her eyes, difficult questions, but she had the immense delicacy not to ask any of them.

—I see —she whispered, averting her gaze to her own hands to give me space—. Personal matters.

The silence became thick. I needed to get out of there. I needed to stop being the center of attention before I broke.

—What about Rem? —I blurted out, forcing a change of subject—. Is she joining the tournament? Where is she? Why isn't she here scolding me for being a disaster, like in the old days?

Emilia blinked, accepting the change of course with a small nod, though her expression turned a bit somber.

—Rem... yes, she's signing up for the tournament too. In fact, she's one of the favorites in the local betting pools.

—Doesn't surprise me —I muttered, slowly relaxing my fists—. She was always intense.

—But she's... busy. She has complicated family matters.

—Family matters?

—You know... her sister, her family... —Emilia made a vague gesture with her hand, as if it were a delicate topic she shouldn't be discussing—. Her family is very strict about honor and strength. They're preparing her for the tournament almost as if it were a war. She barely has time to breathe, let alone hang out with old friends.

I nodded slowly, feeling a strange mix of relief and sadness. Rem locked in her family's honor. Me running from mine.

—Seems like none of the three of us had an easy path since that summer, huh? —I said, with a melancholic smile that didn't reach my eyes.

—No —Emilia conceded softly—. But at least... now we're all in the same city again.

—Yeah. I guess so.

I stroked Umbreon's head, thanking him silently. We had returned to Galar, but the shadows we brought with us were much longer than eight years ago.

I cleared my throat, determined to push away the black cloud that had settled over us.

—Well, let's stop talking about my failures —I said, forcing a lighter tone—. Tell me more about your journey. You said you almost won in Sinnoh. That means you must have a full team, right? What other Pokémon have you caught besides Glaceon? I'm curious to know what kind of trainer you really are.

Emilia opened her mouth to answer, her eyes shining at the opportunity to talk about her partners, when a blast of trumpets and vuvuzelas broke the peace of the afternoon.

PO-PO-PO-POOOOO!

I jumped off the bench in fright. Umbreon bristled, growling toward the main street.

A group of five or six misfits dressed in black leather, studs, and neon violet dyed hair was marching toward us. They carried towels with Emilia's face printed on them and banners that read "WE LOVE THE ICE QUEEN!".

—Oh, no... —Emilia groaned, sinking into the bench and covering her face with her hands—. Not them...

The leader of the group, a guy with a mohawk haircut that defied gravity, pointed an accusing finger at me.

—THERE HE IS! —he shouted, spitting a little—. The guy who thinks he's a big deal! We saw you, huh! We saw you playing hero with that sign and the Obstagoon!

—Excuse me? —I asked, confused—. Are you angry because I prevented an accident?

—We're angry because you think doing a couple of cheap tricks makes you worthy of walking beside Her! —bellowed another, waving some glow sticks threateningly—. Stay away from our Muse! You aren't worthy of breathing the same air as our EMT!

I blinked. —...EMT? —I repeated the acronym, looking at Emilia—. Is that some kind of emergency medical service?

Emilia turned red as a tomato. She jumped up, waving her hands desperately at her fans.

—No! Guys, please, we already talked about this! Go home! And don't tell him what it mea—!

—EMT! —Team Yell shouted in unison, posing as if they were the Ginyu Force—. MEANS: EMILIA-TAN MAJI TENSHI!

There was a second of silence.

My brain translated the acronym. Emilia-tan... Maji... Tenshi. Emilia-tan is... seriously an angel.

I looked at the group of rough punks shouting something so cheesy. I looked at Emilia, who seemed to want to dig a hole in the pavement and bury herself alive, her ears burning with shame.

—Pff... —It escaped me. I couldn't help it.

—Don't you dare! —Emilia squeaked, covering her face.

—HAHAHAHAHAHA!

I let out a raucous laugh, one of those that hurt your stomach. I doubled over, clutching my knees.

—Seriously?! —I laughed, wiping away tears—. "Emilia-tan is an Angel"?! That's your battle nickname?! That is the cheesiest and most ridiculous thing I have ever heard in my life! And it's coming from guys who look like they stepped out of a metal band!

—Shut up, Subaru! —Emilia was mortified, red to the roots of her hair—. I told them to stop calling me that! It's not my fault!

—Hey! Don't laugh at the EMT! —shouted the Team Yell leader, offended—. Glaceon, attack that heretic!

But before they could pull out a single Poké Ball, the temperature dropped drastically.

Emilia stopped covering her face. Her shame had reached critical mass and transformed into defensive fury.

—ENOUGH! —she shouted.

Glaceon jumped in front of us. She didn't need a verbal command. Her eyes glowed. A blast of Icy Wind shot from her mouth, not to hurt, but with the force of a hurricane gale.

—Waaaaah! —The Team Yell members went flying, literally, sliding down the frozen street like bowling pins, taking their banners and trumpets downhill with them.

—The EMT punishes us! She is an avenging angeeeel! —could be heard as they disappeared into the distance.

Silence returned to the square. Only the sound of my laughter-broken breathing and Emilia's indignant panting remained.

She turned to me, her hair a bit messy and her cheeks still flushed. She pointed a trembling finger at me.

—Forget it —she ordered.

—I don't think I can —I said, smiling from ear to ear, feeling lighter than I had all day—. EMT... wow. You have very devoted fans, "Angel-tan."

—Subaru! —She pouted, but then sighed, defeated, and a small smile escaped her—. They are... harmless. Just very loud. But if you call me that again, I'll tell Glaceon to freeze your feet.

—Understood, understood —I raised my hands in surrender, but inside, I thanked Team Yell. Thanks to their ridiculous interruption, the weight of the "Broken Promise" felt a little less crushing.

The sky of Galar burned in shades of orange and violet when we finally reached the hotel entrance. The long shadows of the Victorian buildings stretched over the pavement, and the street gas lamps began to flicker, coming to life.

We stopped in front of the revolving doors of the "Budew Drop Inn." It was time for goodbye.

Emilia stood still for a moment, fidgeting with the hem of her white coat. Glaceon sat at her feet, looking at Umbreon with a soft expression, as if they were already planning their next playdate.

—Subaru... —she said, without looking at me directly—. I know you already said no. But... you know how the Galar League works, right? You need a Recommendation from an important figure to register.

She looked up, and her eyes shone with a stubborn hope.

—I... have some renown now. And I know some Gym Leaders. I could get you a Recommendation letter this very night. —She took a step toward me, almost pleading—. You wouldn't have to start from zero. You would just... just have to take the step.

I felt a pressure in my chest. It wasn't social pressure; it was the pain of seeing how much she believed in someone who didn't exist. She saw the brave boy who let himself be bitten by an Eevee. She didn't see the adult who had fled his own home for fear of failing.

I shook my head, slowly, with a sad smile.

—Don't waste your influence on me, Emilia. It would be a waste.

—It's not a waste if...

—I am a hopeless coward —I interrupted her. My voice came out low, but firm in its self-loathing—. Really. It's not false modesty. Look at me. I shake when people look at me too much. I hide behind my rescue job because there nobody keeps score of who wins or loses. Someone like me... a broken guy who ran away from Kanto... could never aspire to stand on the same stage as you or Rem.

The silence that followed was painful.

I saw the light in Emilia's eyes dim a little. I saw her open her mouth, her lips trembling slightly, wanting to tell me a thousand things. She wanted to tell me I was wrong, she wanted to scold me, she wanted to shake me by the shoulders and tell me to stop hating myself so much.

But she didn't. Eight years had passed. We were, for all practical purposes, strangers with shared memories. She felt she didn't have the right, or perhaps she felt her words wouldn't penetrate the wall I had built around my self-esteem.

Emilia sighed, a fragile sound lost in the evening wind.

—You are very hard on yourself, Subaru —she murmured.

—I'm just realistic.

She nodded, defeated for now. She bent down to pet Glaceon, hiding her expression for a moment, and then straightened up with a forced but warm smile.

—Okay. I won't pressure you anymore for today. —She took a step back, moving toward the street—. But... at least, promise me one thing. A small promise. One of those you can keep.

—Which one? —I asked.

—Think about it. Just... think about it. And if you decide no, at least go to the stadium. —She looked at me intensely—. Go see me. Go see Rem. Even if it's from the stands. Don't hide in the hotel the whole trip, okay?

I swallowed. I nodded. —That I can do. I'll go see you guys. I'll be the number one fan of the "EMT."

Emilia let out a soft giggle at the nickname, though her eyes were still sad. —Dummy.

She turned around. Glaceon rubbed her nose one last time against Umbreon's as a goodbye and followed her trainer.

I stayed there, standing at the hotel entrance, watching the silver-haired girl and her Ice Pokémon disappear into the crowd and the shadows of the sunset.

When I could no longer see her, I looked down at Umbreon. He was staring at me, with those unfathomable red eyes, not judging me, but not comforting me this time.

—I know, partner —I muttered, feeling the weight of my own cowardice crushing my shoulders—. I disgust myself sometimes too.

I pushed the revolving door and entered the hotel, leaving behind the fresh air of Galar and the opportunity that, once again, I had rejected out of fear.

The weeks passed not like days, but like a slow and suffocating countdown.

Registration deadline day arrived. I was there, hiding behind a pillar in the stadium lobby, with my hoodie pulled up to my nose. I saw Emilia and Rem approach the digital board where the eight selected finalists were announced. I saw their fingers trace the list, over and over again, looking for a name that wasn't there. I saw Emilia's shoulders drop. I saw Rem purse her lips, holding back rage and sadness.

I didn't come out. I didn't shout "Here I am!". I was the perfect spectator. The perfect coward.

Then the tournament arrived. I bought the cheapest ticket, in the highest and darkest row, where the shadows of the retractable roof hid my shame.

I watched the Semifinal. Fate has a cruel sense of humor. The tournament bracket forced them to face each other. Emilia versus Rem.

It was heartbreaking. Watching the two people who defined my childhood beat each other with everything they had. Ice against Steel. Magic against Brute Force. In the end, Glaceon overcame Lucario by a minimal margin. Rem fell to her knees, defeated. And then, it happened. While the referee declared Emilia the winner, Rem didn't look at her rival. Despite the thousands of faces, despite the kilometer distance... she looked up. Into the shadows. Her blue eyes pierced the noise, the spotlights, and the crowd, and locked onto mine. She saw me. There was no hatred. There were no screams. Only a silent, deep, oceanic disappointment that hurt more than if a Nidoking had hit me

And then... The Grand Final.

Emilia versus Reinhard. The Snow Challenger against the Favorite, the Sword Saint. The winner would be the one to finally earn the right to face Leon. The Champion wasn't watching from a distant palace; he was visible on the titanic stadium screens, sitting in the VIP commentary booth with a headset around his neck, analyzing every move with the sharp eyes of a predator waiting for its prey.

It was beautiful. It was terrifying. The stadium vibrated with every clash between the sword and the ice spears. The whole world held its breath.

We were halfway through the match, and the intensity was suffocating. Reinhard held the advantage, but it was razor-thin. His Charizard moved with calculated perfection, yet Emilia's Lapras met every flame with a wall of diamond dust. They were trading blows in a stalemate that favored the Saint only by inches. Emilia was pushing him further than anyone expected, forcing the Sword Saint to fight seriously.

The crowd leaned in, sensing that the tipping point was approaching. One mistake from either side would decide everything.

But the decisive blow never came.

Instead, the sky died.

It wasn't a storm. Storms have wind, thunder, a chaotic rhythm. This was... a cessation of reality. The perfect blue of the Galar sky didn't just tear; it rotted away. A vortex of absolute, oily blackness swirled open above us, bleeding lightning of a sick, coagulated red.

A crushing atmospheric pressure fell upon us, a physical weight that bent the steel beams of the stadium roof like wet paper. My ears popped. The air tasted of ozone and old blood.

And then, it descended.

I didn't know what it was. I had never seen it in any book, in any Pokedex, in any nightmare. I didn't know if it was a Pokémon, a weapon, or a punishment from Arceus himself.

A skeletal, gigantic structure, pulsing with crimson light, uncoiling from the vortex like the hand of a vengeful god. It was a hole in reality that eclipsed the sun, absorbing light, sound, and hope.

I saw Leon, the Champion, the unbeatable Charizard master, launch himself into the sky to intercept it. He was the strongest. He was our shield. But even he wasn't enough. I saw his Charizard Gigamax get swatted aside like a gnat, its flames extinguished in an instant. The Champion fell from the sky, a broken doll against the might of the unknown.

Then I saw Reinhard, the invincible, try to lift his head. His own Charizard was already down, unconscious.

—Run! —His voice, usually so powerful, sounded like a whisper against a hurricane.

A beam of pure energy, thick as a skyscraper, didn't just fall; it erased the space where he stood. There was no explosion. No fire. Just a flash of crimson light, and then... a crater. The strongest was simply deleted from the equation.

—Reinhard! —Emilia's scream tore through the unnatural silence.

She didn't run away. She didn't look for an exit. With a shaking hand, she recalled her fallen Lapras, the red beam swallowing the unconscious giant.

Then, she sprinted. Not towards the enemy, but towards the edge of the arena. Towards the stands. She threw herself directly between the skeletal god and the thousands of screaming people. Between the apocalypse and the shadows where I was hiding.

She grabbed another Poké Ball from her belt and released it in desperation. Her Frosmoth emerged, its white wings glowing against the darkness as it fluttered forward, weaving a massive wall of ice right in front of the front row. A final barricade to protect the innocent. To protect me.

—Subaru!

She screamed my name. Her amethyst eyes found me in the darkness of the last row. There was no judgment in them anymore. Only terror. She wasn't afraid of dying; she was terrified of dying without being able to save me.

The beam hit the ice.

It didn't shatter like glass. It evaporated. The red light swallowed the ice, then the Frosmoth, and then... it swallowed her. I saw her silhouette turn white, then red, then nothing. She didn't even have time to close her eyes.

—Son! —I looked towards the VIP box.

There was an empty seat right next to them. That was my seat. Dad had bought three tickets so we could be together. But I had refused. I had lied, saying I wanted to watch the match from a different angle.

The truth was pathetic: I was terrified. I was scared that if I sat down there, in the front row, the cameras might catch me. Scared that Emilia or Rem might look up from the arena and see me. So I bought a cheap ticket in the darkest, highest corner of the stadium to hide from them.

My cowardice had saved my life, only to force me to watch.

I saw my father, the unbreakable Kenichi, the man who was bigger than life itself. He wasn't fighting. He was huddled over my mother, covering her with his muscular body, using his own back as a human shield against the end of the world.

The shockwave hit them. The entire VIP section—including the empty chair that should have been my grave—crumbled into dust and twisted metal, sliding into the abyss of the arena.

—EMILIA! DAD! MOM!

My screams were useless. They were the squeaks of a mouse in a burning house.

I saw Rem. She hadn't fallen yet. Beside her, her Lucario was battered, barely standing, but he was there. They didn't run. They didn't look back at the chaos. Rem screamed a command that was lost in the roar, and Lucario howled, his aura flaring blue against the overwhelming red. They charged together, a single point of defiant blue light trying to pierce the storm.

A pulse of energy swept them away like dry leaves in a hurricane. They were gone before they could even touch the monster.

It was all over. The heroes had fallen.

And finally, the Red Light turned its gaze to the stands. To the cowards.

It was a tide. A shockwave of uncontrolled, corrupt energy rising up the concrete, disintegrating cement, steel, and flesh. It moved slowly, savoring the destruction.

There was nowhere to run. The exits were blocked by fallen debris. The roof was collapsing.

I sat back down. My legs didn't work anymore.

And then, amidst the smoke and the red lightning, I saw them.

Down in the destroyed arena, emerging from the dust. Two figures. Not humans.

Wolves.

One was cyan, holding itself with a weary nobility. The other was magenta, covered in scars. They looked... old. Tired. Like statues that had eroded over centuries. They howled at the skeletal god above, but their howl was weak. They had no armor. No sword. No shield. They were just two dogs barking at a storm.

And beside them... a girl.

A small girl with blonde hair in twin drills, wearing a dress that looked too fancy for the apocalypse, looking up at the monster with an expression of infinite sadness. I didn't know who she was. I had never seen her before.

She turned her face slightly. For a second, her blue eyes with butterfly-shaped pupils met mine across the devastation. She shook her head slowly.

The Red Light filled my vision. The heat was unbearable. It felt like my skin was being unmade, pixel by pixel.

I gave up. My instinct was to hide. I grabbed Umbreon, pulling him violently against my chest. I curled around him, trying to cover his eyes with my hands, trying to make my body a cocoon so he wouldn't see the end coming. I wanted us to die together, huddled in the dark.

But he refused.

—Umbreon?

He didn't snuggle in. He writhed and kicked against my chest, struggling with a strength I didn't know he had, until he wrenched himself free from my trembling arms.

He didn't run away. He jumped onto the backrest of the seat in front of me, placing his small body directly between me and the wall of apocalypse.

He turned his head to look at me one last time. His red eyes weren't scared. They were fierce. They were the eyes of a partner who still hadn't given up.

He barked. A sound of pure defiance against a god.

His rings glowed with a blinding intensity.

A hexagonal barrier of green energy materialized in front of us. A tiny, fragile shield against a power that had erased the strongest champions in the world.

—No! Stop! It's useless! —I screamed, reaching out to grab his tail, to pull him back to safety with me.

But he stood his ground. He dug his claws into the upholstery. He was doing what I couldn't. He was being brave. He was trying to save his trainer, his friend, his family.

The red wave hit the green shield.

For a microsecond, the shield held. Umbreon howled in agony as the cosmic force crushed him, but he didn't step back. He held the line.

Then, the shield shattered.

My last sight was my partner, my little pacifist who didn't know how to attack, being swept away while trying to buy me one more second of life.

The light swallowed him. Then it swallowed me.

My last thought wasn't fear. It was a sorrow so deep it drowned out the pain of death.

"I wish... things had been different."

Nothingness.