Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

7-7-20XX 1:14 am

Blueberry Academy, boy dorms wing - Kieran's room

Song: When I Come Around - Green Day

Kieran turned over in bed again, frustrated. He tried to make his body as comfortable as possible, hoping that he could finally fall asleep, but nothing worked. His heart pounded violently each time, and another wave of adrenaline left him wide awake.

Hours had passed like this, tossing and turning in bed without success—or so it seemed. At this point, it was probably already 3 a.m.

Oh, man.

Kieran flipped his pillow over half-heartedly, wishing the cool fabric would help him.

Why was this happening to him?

He definitely couldn't blame his apparent insomnia on the temperature of his room. Despite the school being located at the bottom of the freezing sea, it was never cold. The staff had ensured that the school would always maintain the same neutral temperature, making the seasons indistinguishable from one another.

And if that weren’t enough, a thick, heavy blanket acted as a solid shield against the cold. The only parts of him that felt chilly were his feet, left uncovered from all his tossing and turning.

Now, he could only feel his cheeks uncomfortably warm, but that wasn’t a big problem. He had already solved it by flipping his pillow over.

Could it be the noise? Not at all.

One of the many advantages of studying at Blueberry Academy was the school’s isolation from the rest of society. Combined with the completely soundproof dorm rooms, it ensured that students could focus on their work without distractions.

Being so far from everything made the school free from typical nighttime noises, like the blaring sounds of cars on a highway. Students from big cities like Black City, Wyndon, or Lumiose often struggled to sleep due to the silence.

When he first arrived at Blueberry Academy, Kieran had relished in the silence, happy to be free from the incessant screeching of Bug-type Pokémon, which were common in Kitakami. He could remember how relieved he was to be rid of the constant noise—but now, he was starting to miss it.

It was safe to say that silence ruled in the darkness of his dorm. Perhaps too much. But that wasn’t what was keeping him up.

So what was it?

What was stopping him from simply lying down and falling asleep like a moderately normal person?

He didn’t know.

He sighed, his head feeling heavy as he did.

The air left his mouth hesitantly, his chest trembling slightly.

He had no one to blame but himself for this mess, and that made the feeling in his chest all the more unpleasant.

Another thing was his fault.

Kieran had gone to bed early, as always, but woke up in the middle of the night. He knew himself well enough to understand that he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep.

It wasn’t fair. Now he’d have to endure the entire morning feeling half-dead.

A frustrated sigh wouldn’t do much, but retying his ponytail to gather all the loose strands of hair might help. He sat up for a couple of seconds to do it more comfortably and couldn’t deny that it felt a little better not having his hair sticking to his neck.

He let himself fall back onto the bed.

Feeling a little stupid, he shoved his face into his pillow, silently praying that, by some miracle of Arceus, sleep would claim him.

He was proven wrong after forty more minutes of tossing and turning. With an irritated sigh, he rolled onto his back, abandoning any hope of sleep. He was too on edge and knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep at this point.

Lately, nights like this had become more frequent.

He at least wanted to feel like he had some energy, some willpower—anything more than this overwhelming sense of weakness and sadness in his chest, whose origin he couldn’t pinpoint.

But nothing came.

He felt strange and uneasy.

Empty.

His eyes stung too much, and that didn’t help.

But even though his exhausted body begged him for some long-needed rest, he still couldn’t manage more than maybe a few minutes.

He couldn’t keep going like this. He couldn’t let this keep happening. Otherwise, tomorrow would be hell. He had to wake up early to do his tasks like a champ—

Oh, right. He wasn’t one anymore.

A weak, pitiful くそslipped through his teeth.

He rarely cursed.

But the curse almost made him feel in control—something he had been lacking as of late.

Maybe back home, he would have been a little calmer. He could talk to his sister instead of just seeing her during breaks. He wouldn’t be forbidden from mentioning what happened.

He wouldn’t have to see everyone’s faces whenever he left his room. He wouldn’t have to get sick from their empty words of concern or pretend not to notice their pity at his haggard appearance.

He wouldn’t have to force a small smile to reassure them.

He wouldn’t have to pretend that the things that happened didn’t happen.

He wouldn’t have to stay silent.

He wouldn’t have to keep everything to himself, as he had always done.

Back home, he would be better.

Maybe he could live as if nothing had happened after a colossal amount of time.

Forgetting wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t have his classmates around. If only he could be left to lick his wounds in peace.

Without having to see that girl's black eyes avoid his gaze every time they crossed paths in the terrarium, things would definitely be easier.

Not having to see her at all would be even simpler. Right?

He was sure he could heal after a month or two there—locking himself up to cry and eat sweets from Peachy’s, with his sister hugging him and a Furret to pet.

But the paperwork was too slow (or the staff too stupid, his past self would’ve screamed), and he could only go to Kitakami in a week.

His sister had requested a temporary leave for both of them the day after returning from Paldea. That was a week and a half ago, so what the hell? Why was it taking so long?

They had been put in incredible danger, and everyone was still struggling after going to the Underpaths. Carmine, though she didn’t show it, was barely keeping herself together. What were the adults thinking by doing nothing?

Now he had to rot here for another full week.

After a titanic battle between his sister and the administration, she managed to get him excused from classes until their leave to Kitakami. But that didn’t actually improve things—now he had to stay in his room.

The only options were leaving the safety of his room to face the overwhelming sea of classmates and concerned peers or remain isolated in the confines of his dorm since Carmine was too busy with her studies and could only check in once or twice a day.

Both options made him feel like crap.

Now, he couldn’t even approach Noelle.

The thought sent a pang through his stomach, making him turn over in bed.

Forget it. The important thing was that he couldn’t sleep.

No matter how much he tried to think of something else, his mind only went back to that stadium full of people watching his defeat or the depths of Area Zero.

Only two weeks had passed since he had gone to the depths of Area Zero with his sister, Miss Briar, and Noe... her.

And the images of that captivating underground felt more vivid each time he recalled them—its eerily beautiful crystals, the treacherous landscapes, and the horribly familiar yet changed Pokémon. He still couldn't completely get all of that out of his head.

The sights were so breathtaking that if you didn't know what was hidden there, you’d think it was a crime to keep the place a secret.

Like the beautiful web of an Ariados, viciously seeking prey that, entranced by its charm, would fall into its trap.

He had been prey, just like his sister.

He didn't know what to expect. He was full of rage and blinded by the idea of finally proving himself. Ready to not let this opportunity slip away, determined not to make the same mistakes as before, and completely unaware of how everything would turn around in just 15 minutes.

If he defeated that black-haired girl, those voices he had endured for years would finally go silent, right? They would stop insulting him, calling him weak, worthless, and aimless. Right?

That should have been his first clue that his problems ran much deeper and had nothing to do with her. That should have been his first sign that he was wrong, that he was going about everything the wrong way.

But he ignored it.

And then he paid a price he never expected.

He couldn't even imagine all that could happen while thinking, This should be enough to beat her, as he stepped into the elevator. He was too focused on the present to avoid fantasizing about his victory too soon. Getting lost in his fantasies was what had led to his defeat in front of the entire school.

He was only thinking about how he could no longer allow himself to imagine how her beautiful face would twist in defeat. He couldn’t allow himself to imagine it too soon.

And that was his mistake.

Instead, he preferred to focus on how the seconds after that humiliation turned into horrible static and to go over, with resentment, all the things he couldn’t afford to fail at again if he wanted to win.

How could he have foreseen what was going to happen when he was so fixated on the past?

How could he have thought clearly in that state?

How could he not have been an idiot?

He was the same Kieran as always, after all.

How could he not ruin everything?

Now, looking back, he realized how foolish and power-hungry he had been. He needed to be completely crushed to finally see it.

Reality had punched him in the gut and put him in his place.

He had gone way, way too far, challenged limits he never should have. He meddled where he wasn’t wanted, in things that didn’t concern him, in a region that was HER land.

All just to end up putting everyone in danger in his desperate pursuit of victory.

He ruined everything he touched.

Every time he thought about it, he wanted to smash his head against the wall.

And yet, even though he had been so obsessed with winning that he had nearly destroyed everything, his effort had been in vain.

As expected, he was still weak.

Not even with the immense power of a legend could he surpass her. Not even then was he strong enough.

Not even then was he enough.

None of it had been enough to prove himself to the girl who, once again, had been the one to save the day.

Save the day from the mess he had caused.

As always.

The light of Terapagos’ beam, about to kill him—about to kill them—was the only thing Kieran could see when he closed his eyes.

Because of him, they had almost died.

Because of him, she had almost—

A part of his body felt like his stomach was twisting, even though he had barely eaten anything.

What could have happened.

Maybe none of the three of them would be here now.

A cold sweat ran down his back at the thought.

At the thought of all the power and rage that Pokémon had.

As the professor had said, that power was unprecedented, and that was what terrified him.

And yet, even after the creature had nearly blown up the entire place, a single Ultra Ball was all she needed for the turtle to willingly surrender its power to her.

That was how impressive Noelle was.

It had probably made the right choice in picking her as its trainer—just like Oger… The ogre.

Both of them had probably seen in her the powerful trainer who would help them reach their full potential. Someone with the strength and love worthy of such things.

And if they did, they were right to choose her over him.

Because she was almost perfect.

How had he even thought he could beat her?

Now, she was the Champion.

She was everything he wanted to be.

She had arrived with a group of classmates from a school in Paldea.

She had befriended him, told him she was from Kalos, and when his guard was down, she stole everything he had ever wanted and worked for.

And she did it all in the span of a month.

Her smile never wavered.

The same smile that, at one point, had been directed at him…

Had she ever been truly happy in his company?

The glow of the Mask Festival reflected in her eyes only pushed him further away from regaining sleep.

The fact that he didn’t feel as bad as he expected about her presence in his mind only made him feel worse.

Now, there was nothing he could do to fix things.

Maybe talking to her would have helped him feel a little better.

But how could he possibly face her after everything?

He had been nothing but an idiot to her since she arrived at Blueberry Academy.

So much so that she ended up pulling away.

It would definitely take time to fix things.

Besides… how could he forget what she had done to him, too?

He had reasons for acting the way he did.

That night after she left Kitakami, he got rid of absolutely everything related to the ogre.

Because of her.

It wasn’t just a matter of hurting her—it was the sincere question of what if he got hurt again?

When they both returned from that journey into the depths, they had made up.

They were friends again.

Or so he thought.

But what if she was lying to him again?

What if she hadn’t really forgiven him?

He couldn’t see her, but he couldn’t help but imagine her—even if he still struggled to think her name.

His mind kept thinking about that girl who had once run around in awe, wore ribbons, and had an accent even stranger than the rest of her Paldean classmates.

Like him, who had a weird accent when he had to speak Galarian.

His thoughts drifted to her tooth gap, her freckles, and that unique way she had of doing things.

In less than three weeks, she had lifted him to the highest of heights with her boundless energy, her words he didn’t understand, and her endless questions whenever he told her something.

Only to throw him down into something that didn’t even have a name.

But then… remembering the look on her face when she saw what he had become carved an even deeper hole into his conflicted feelings.

Her face was too beautiful to make her go through that.

Her state was also his fault.

Two—maybe three—realities were colliding within him, and he couldn’t take it.

A part of him didn’t fight so hard to push her out of his head.

And that terrified his survival instinct.

The night was starting to feel endless.

His body remained on high alert, growing even more rigid as he remembered the girl who had once seemed so happy to listen to him.

And now, a noise in the hallway gave him a real reason to be tense.

It was almost imperceptible, but he noticed it. In the middle of the silence, something interrupted. His body tensed up suddenly in response, and his heart raced a thousand beats per minute. He stood up, and the oxygen rushing into his body—thanks to his ragged breathing—prepared him to face whatever was trying to put him in danger.

For everything except what he would find.

Those sleepless nights always played with his mind. Despite the soundproofed rooms, he could swear he heard footsteps from the corner. And the footsteps were getting closer.

Fuck.

It’s 3 a.m. Who the hell would do that?
Better yet, who the hell would do anything at this hour?

He knew some students sold candies and treats in the middle of the night, taking advantage of their classmates' midnight cravings. But as far as he remembered, they had a fixed spot in the common area—or at least, that’s how it was when he caught them and suspended them back when he was champion. So, it couldn’t be them.

As the footsteps approached, they became softer, less loud.
The intruder walked as if they were stepping on glass and didn’t want to break it.

That was weird.

He couldn’t understand the intruder’s intentions.

But he didn’t have much time to think before two soft knocks reached his ears.

His mind was clouded with sleep; it took him a moment to realize it, but one of his heartbeats felt horribly strong when he heard them knock on HIS door.

They wanted him.

Who would want him, out of everyone?

Only someone looking for revenge for how badly he had treated them, right?
They must have hoped to catch him in a drowsy state to land the punch in the face he probably deserved.

Who else could it be if not that?

Should he just let them leave? The intruder would assume he was asleep, and problem solved. After all, no one should expect to knock on someone’s door at 3 a.m. and actually be answered. He would be safe, far from whatever wanted to harm him. He could deal with the issue in the morning with whoever it was.

If he managed to sleep, that is. He’d be more clear-headed to defend himself.

Although… maybe it was his sister.

Ignoring could be the best option.

But what if it was really her?

No, Carmine would never do something like that.
She was too proper for that. She always stayed away from anything that could put her scholarship at risk.

Right?

She would never be walking through the halls at 3 a.m.

She had worked too hard to secure that scholarship for both of them. To the point of continuing to study the weeks before temporarily withdrawing to be with her brother. All to maintain the perfect student image and grades she needed to keep her scholarship. To the point of even volunteering for the trip to Area Zero. (Without knowing that her brother would want to go too, much less what was going to happen there.)

But what if she was feeling so bad that she ignored all that and came anyway?
What if she needed his company for a bit?

He knew very well that his sister suffered in silence despite being so loud. She was probably even more affected than him by everything that had happened. She always had the habit of carrying guilt that wasn’t hers.

In that case, he should open the door, right?

He should be a good brother for once, after everything he had put her through.

He should at least give her that good moment after all the times he had rejected her attempts to get close.

If it wasn’t her, he could just tell whoever it was to fuck off.

He was an Elite Four now, and even though it was a lower status than before, he could still send anyone to the director’s office without much trouble. Even if someone wanted to settle scores for his asshole attitude.

He wasn’t so sure he could just tell off someone wanting to settle scores, but the idea of ignoring his sister made his stomach feel hollow.

He remembered having pushed her away too much to have the right to deny her whatever she needed.

He also had things to confront her about. But her expression before facing Noel… Her, for the Championship—
It chilled his blood.

He had understood too late that she did care about him.

Hoping to settle his debts, he opened the door.

When he saw the person standing there, the muscles in his back tensed in contradiction.

He didn’t know how to handle this situation.

That was not the black hair he expected.

It was Noelle’s.

All his problems and all his aspirations had come knocking on his door to punish him for his insomnia.

He was breathing just as heavily as the person in front of him.

Inside, he begged to close that door and go back to bed.

But his body didn’t want to.

It didn’t.

The girl in front looked like her heart had skipped a beat—she definitely wasn’t expecting a response.

He hadn’t expected to respond either.

He couldn’t help but stare at her, taking in her image, in an attempt to anchor himself to reality.

His heart also skipped a beat.

Of all people, he didn’t expect Noelle.

He was sure she wouldn’t want to see him for a while, and he wasn’t ready to see her yet either.

Even if they were “fine” now, things were still too fresh.

What was she doing here?

Her name hadn’t once crossed his mind while wondering who it could be.

Even though she had the highest chance of being the one walking down the boys’ hallway completely carefree.

She had always had a history of recklessness and magical impulsivity.
In fact, he used to admire that—when his black hair still covered his face.

Seeing her be so unapologetically herself had made him wish he could be like that too.

But not now.

Now, she didn’t look like that at all.

Her hair was a small mess, barely controlled by a low ponytail—too unusual for her.
She was playing with a strand of hair—the strand that, if he remembered correctly, was usually neatly arranged in a pretty side braid.

Her clothes looked unkempt, a bit of her stomach peeking from under her red tank top—he remembered hearing her call that “a crime.”

Wasn’t she the one who always said looking decent was important?

Something wasn’t right.

And if that wasn’t enough, she was barefoot, like she needed all the comfort in the world to do this.

Yeah. She was more disheveled than he had ever seen her.

And yet…

A part of him whispered that she didn’t look that bad.

Maybe it was because of that shy, forced smile she had.

It highlighted the gap between her teeth—he used to think that was really cute.

He shook that thought away.

After a surprised and slightly scared gasp from her, her eyes went straight to the floor, as if it was the most interesting thing to see.
Or as if his gaze was the most terrifying thing in the world.

Why did that make him feel so bad?

…Bonsoir, she broke the silence.

He didn’t know what that meant. He assumed it was Kalosian, because from the little he knew, Paldean sounded different.

She was so in her own world that she forgot he didn’t speak it.
Had it really been that long since they’d last seen each other?

He assumed it was some kind of greeting.

She always forgot to greet people—was this moment so solemn that she needed to emphasize it?

Her voice, which in his memories sang with enviable strength, was now hoarse.

Emphasizing the need for answers.

And his bad feeling.

I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I—I didn’t mean to bother you.

The words fell from her tongue like her mouth was covered in soap.

She sounded anxious, desperate to explain herself.

Even making that same hand gesture she always did when situations and words overwhelmed her.

It took him over ten seconds to process what she was saying.

Her dialect sounded so strange to his ears—he had barely adjusted to Galarian.

Her Kalosian and Paldean accent mixed with her struggle with Galarian—it was “a disaster,” or so she had told him a long time ago.

And yet, she always tried so hard to pronounce things as best as she could.

He had only ever heard her speak this strangely when she was nervous and needed to talk fast to calm herself down.

He had only ever heard her like this once before—

The only time he had heard her speak like that was when they stood face to face in the academy stadium for the championship battle. Her I challenge you had sounded so bad they joked she’d need subtitles when they uploaded his humiliation to the school forum.

I'd normally call Nemona or Le— Her eyes started darting around the room, landing everywhere and nowhere, until clarity came back to her with a name to fill the accidental void. Arven! When this happens.

His body acted on its own, stepping aside to let her in.

Something about her hair, those loose strands instead of the overly decorated bun she usually wore, her comfy clothes, and her bare wrist—missing the bracelets she loved so much—made him exhale deeply.

She looked tired. She was, actually. The bags under her eyes and the cadence of her voice said it all.
She always went to bed early, even earlier than him—why was she like this now?

The vulnerability in every part of her broke through one of his defenses. He’d definitely punish himself later for that.

What is it?

They hadn’t spoken since the Terapagos incident. Why now, after two weeks?

The calmness of his reaction surprised her—she had expected bitterness.

It’s so stupid, I just… I just can’t sleep.

Her voice sounded like a whisper as she stepped into his room.

She closed the door behind her when she entered.

The boy needed to process her words twice to believe them.

She had insomnia too? She didn’t seem like the type of person to have trouble sleeping. After all, she was always the first to say that getting a good night's sleep was necessary to look good. But there she was, unable to sleep just like him, for reasons neither of them seemed to understand.

He didn’t know how to feel about it, but she was already inside.

He scolded himself in his thoughts, Why are you hesitating so much, Kieran? We're supposed to be friends now Friends were supposed to support each other. He should do that.

He wanted to be her friend, right? He had to act like it.

Then why was it so difficult? He couldn’t shake the feeling that a void was going to consume him with every step she took.

He should ease himself.

Besides, he owed her, a little. And now there was no way to avoid it—only to try to get out unscathed and not hurt her.

So, to avoid making things worse for himself, he decided to take a deep breath.

He couldn’t stop examining her in more detail.

He wanted to stop and keep his distance, for both their sakes, to lessen the discomfort they both seemed to feel. But he couldn't. He kept watching the slightly hesitant gait of someone he had once seen parade in a jinbei.

It felt strange. She had always been firm. That was one of the things he admired about her. This felt wrong.

From the scent of chocolate and a faint trace of sweat, he could tell she had been telling the truth. Just like him, she had been rolling around the bed for a good while.

That only made him feel sick.

It surprised him to see that he was taller now. The last time he remembered, he had been a couple centimeters shorter than her, but that was back home and years ago, when his hair flowed freely and loose to the tips of hers. Had he grown while she stayed the same? In his head, it seemed impossible, but it appeared to be true.

The very idea of looking down at her twisted his stomach, already full of butterflies.

It made her look horribly vulnerable. He didn’t want to see her like that. She was everything he wanted to be.

He had always looked up at her, splendid as she was. This role reversal gave him a sense of power he had always longed for—but now, it made him want to break a window and drown in the sea.

He decided to give her space so that she—both of them—could be comfortable while she took a seat at the edge of his bed. She made no sound and didn’t seem upset. She didn’t seem to mind that the place didn’t smell the best or that his bed was unmade.

Her eyes scanned the room with growing amazement—a look that was familiar to him from their field trip to his home, where she had seemed to want to capture a memory of everything she saw.

That told him she wasn’t doing too badly. He sighed with… relief? He wasn’t sure.

He decided to focus on the embarrassment that was about to eat him alive. He hadn’t taken care of his room in a long time, and the fact that she, of all people, had entered and seen it this way turned him into a bundle of nerves.

If he had known, at the very least, he would have tidied up.

Kieran was about to ask what was so interesting about his room when reality struck him like lightning.

She had never been here before. She had never seen this place.

If things had been different, maybe he could have invited her over.

That explained the amazement. Everyone who entered his room for the first time was stunned by the sheer number of potions, books, and trophies.

She had never seen it. And like everyone else, she was processing just how bad he was doing, judging by the mess—ready to kill him with a lightning bolt of concern and cheap pity.

…Right?

A sigh left his mouth at the thought. Of all people, he would feel even worse if she pitied him.

He tried to shake off that thought.

Her gaze was fixed on the shelf above the boy’s desk, where a good handful of trophies, diplomas, and medals rested. As a school champion, he had participated in several tournaments against other schools, and winning them had never been hard, given how obsessed he was. Now the place was full.

If she had dared to look him in the face at that moment, she would have seen his cheeks reddening. He felt ashamed of all the honors he had received as a champion. He didn’t feel like he deserved them.

Before, he could say he displayed them to reaffirm his strength. But now, they only made him feel bad.

She was about to open her mouth in an “O” and say something about how impressive they looked—to break the ice.

Until she realized it.

Small crystalline flashes appeared in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

..Oh... right.

She remembered why he had become this strong.

She swallowed hard.

He couldn’t help but notice. There it was—the pity.

Inside him, a voice begged to end this nonsense, to cut it off cleanly, to slam the door in her face.

But he ignored it, and Kieran took a seat on the opposite edge of the bed, also avoiding eye contact.

He took a deep breath, even though it was difficult.

If she had been in his position, she wouldn’t be like this. She wouldn’t hesitate to help him. She wouldn’t be thinking this way.

He should do something.

He thought quickly about what he could do. She had come seeking help. He had never been in a situation like this before and definitely had no idea how to handle it.

He tapped his thigh lightly—a habit that helped him think.

Something finally came to mind.

Do ya’ want... That same something that had made him let her in caused his words to come out soft. Some tea? he offered.

Drinking tea was one of the things he tried to calm himself and sleep. Back home, he used to ask Carmine to make him one when he had insomnia. She made the best matcha, according to him—so relaxing that it could help you sleep despite the caffeine.

Apparently, the softness in his voice had the opposite effect on the girl, who shook her head, even quieter than before.

Yeah, it made sense that she didn’t fully trust him. Neither of them did. He didn’t trust her either. She had no reason to, not after he had put everyone in danger down there and after how badly he had treated her.

Now they sat in opposite corners, and the thick ice that had been growing for months appeared between them. Neither knew how to break it.

Seeing her like this was new to him—so normal, so common, even wrong. It wasn’t like he felt any kind of relief seeing her this way—he wasn’t as stupid as he used to be. But he had put her on a pedestal, and now he didn’t know what to feel, seeing her so unkempt, playing with her fingers, tapping them against her legs.

It was unsettling.

She was supposed to be extraordinary, damn it.

It wasn’t like he looked any less haggard at that hour. His own hair was a mess, he was wearing a slightly torn tank top, and his scent wasn’t exactly pleasant.

His shirt was so worn out that you could barely believe it was supposed to be white.

But he was always like this. He was used to it.

She wasn’t. That oversized red shirt she was wearing was stained. She never wore clothes like that. She had never let herself go like this.

He was used to his own negligence, but not to hers.

He had only cleaned up a little back when he was the champion, but not even because he wanted to look better. He just wanted to present a stronger image, to intimidate, like his Incineroar.

And yeah, he had succeeded.

Or at least, that’s what the girl’s gaze seemed to suggest as it shifted between the floor and some random spot in his room.

That had been his intention when he changed—to show everyone that he had grown much stronger, that he was no longer someone you could underestimate. That he wasn’t weak anymore.

You couldn’t step on him, you couldn’t look down on him, you couldn’t ignore him, you couldn’t break him, you couldn’t make him cry, you couldn’t see him as worthless. No. Not anymore.

Now, his purple hair and the “blood-red” tank top—what students called it—had become symbols of respect, alongside his sharp grin and his quick, precise mannerisms. He had made it.

He had managed to see the tension in the air whenever he arrived, dark-eyed and brooding, and it terrified him to realize that, at some point, he had almost enjoyed it. That he had found a twisted sense of satisfaction in the uneasiness, a small reward for working tirelessly day and night.

But right now, it felt wrong.

He couldn’t quite describe it, but it felt like the consequences of becoming this harsh and violent were eating him alive.

Was this how everyone around him really felt? Like her?

Arceus, the silence left nothing but a bitter feeling in his stomach, a guilt he couldn’t put into words.

Neither of them knew how to break the ice. And it was becoming unbearably uncomfortable.

His head was pounding as he tried to process how surreal this situation was. It was hard to think of anything to say or do.

Less than ten minutes ago, he hadn’t been able to sleep, and now he had somehow agreed to help Noelle sleep, after everything they had been through and everything that had strained their bond.

Of all people, she was the only one who could stir up every disaster inside him.

Nothing came to mind, and his silence wasn’t helping.

Right now, there was no guide telling him what to do.

Right now, all the lines were blurred.

Right now, she was confusing, and he was exhausted.

Noelle didn’t pick up on the moment. And despite seeing the state he was in, she brought up an unpleasant topic to break the silence that was killing her.

Why were you awake at this hour?

Kieran did his best to make his Couldn’t sleep sound at least somewhat neutral. Even so, it came out bitter—almost like a bark.

She hesitated to continue, but still tried to keep the conversation going.

The same curiosity he had always loved about her was now turning against him.

Why? she asked. She always had a tendency to ask questions.

He had loved that when it was about the legends he cherished. But now, she was asking the uncomfortable ones, and he wished Zapdos would just strike him with lightning.

He tried to think of possible answers.

Because of you?

Because I almost killed you?

Because I’m an idiot?

There were so many reasons why he couldn’t sleep, even if he didn’t want to admit them.

He chose the one that would get him out of this the fastest.

Honestly, I don’t know.

Luckily, his voice came out steadier than he expected.

She started playing with her hair. It was strange to see her without that hairstyle she always liked. That side-braided bun had always seemed like part of her. The only other time he had seen her wear something different was when she let her hair down for the Festival of Masks.

His face flushed red as he remembered her wearing his sister’s old jinbei, pink ribbons decorating her hair.

Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts. These past days have been rough, haven’t they?

He wasn’t sure if the question came from genuine concern or some form of pity, but at this point, he didn’t have the energy to figure it out.

She had no idea how much. How hard it was to be left alone with his own thoughts all day, until Carmine or—unfortunately—Drayton visited. Like a patient in a hospital.

He knew it was just a matter of time before he’d take a flight to Kitakami next week, finally getting a break to rest and recover. But the wait was unbearable. The walls felt like they were closing in on him.

He nodded. He wished he could say more, keep the conversation going if it would help her, but he simply couldn’t. Nothing came to mind.

Her voice was rougher than usual. How are you handling all this? It felt like a textbook question. You know…

She didn’t have the courage to say it outright, but he knew what she meant.

She meant everything that had happened. The descent into the depths, her time as an exchange student, their battle for the—what happened down the—

Horribly.

I feel like absolute shit.

What do you think?

Better than I expected. Why was he lying? He had had a terrible week. It would take him months to get over it. He literally had to step away to recover, or he’d go insane with guilt.

So why was he saying the opposite?

He didn’t know why.

Her sigh of relief made it clear that his answer had reassured her.

That’s good to hear.

He didn’t know much about social rules since he didn’t interact with many people, so he struggled to find a response. But he knew enough to understand that it was his turn to ask something. Staying silent would only make things awkward again.

And you? How are you doin’? His voice came out a bit too sharp.

He remembered how people in the League club and the Elite Four talked.

When someone asks, “How are you?” you’re supposed to ask back, right? Now, he was nervous about whether he’d done it right.

He saw her take a moment to respond, biting her lip for a few seconds as she thought.

Yeah, kinda... well? She didn’t even believe herself.

She kept playing with her hair. Everything about her screamed that she wasn’t okay. The fact that she had come all the way here in the middle of the night and couldn’t sleep spoke for itself.

How are you now? She wanted an honest answer. When she looked at him like that, he felt like the center of the universe. Are you feeling better?

He felt like if he lied again, he would die.

Her gaze was too much for him.

Not that good, actually.

He felt the sudden need to soften it somehow.

But...

He searched for something to sugarcoat it. But he couldn’t find anything.

He wasn’t okay. And that was okay. He just couldn’t find a way to cover it up.

Noelle cleared her throat and couldn't help but feel a little bad.

Me neither. I had a hard time sleeping lately and... She trailed off.

She had a habit of making every conversation about herself—her way of empathizing with others was by sharing her own experiences. But this time, she held back. Her friend was unwell, just like her. He had never been to Area Zero before, and everything had taken him by surprise. He hadn’t been mentally prepared like she had.

She was about to mention how some students were trying to take advantage of her vulnerable state, rushing to rank up so they could challenge her before she recovered. But she bit her tongue, not wanting to sound selfish.

Still, she got no more insight into how Kieran was really doing. He was lost in thought, silent, fixated on her sleep issues instead.

Should he ask her about that? Was there a reason? If there was anything he could do to help, he wanted to. He remained deep in thought, surprised to see this side of her.

Her voice broke the silence.

You know? If I had known how it would turn out, I-I would have warned Geeta about Miss Briar when I came back from Kitakami.

Her voice trembled slightly, and a shadow crossed her face.

That woman is completely folie.

Her tone turned serious, though it still carried that slight unsteadiness.

She truly regretted not preventing what happened. She had simply seen Briar as a fascinated researcher, someone eager to carry on her ancestor's legacy. She hadn’t expected her to be a power-hungry, recognition-obsessed adult who would put students in danger just to push her discoveries forward. She hadn’t thought she was capable of doing all of that without a shred of remorse.

Noelle always saw the best in people. She had even seen something good in him. It was only natural that she hadn’t anticipated Briar’s true nature.

None of us expected that, Kieran reassured her.

For him, the memory of Briar was even more bitter. He didn’t know exactly what "folie" meant, but he hoped it was something like crazy, insane, or stupid. That so-called adult had been the one to encourage him to Terastallize the creature. She was the one who had, unintentionally, made him put everyone in danger.

No—

That was his fault.

He could have refused. He could have stood his ground. He could have made his own choice instead of blindly following along, instead of endangering everyone. He wasn't about to blame the wrong person for his mistakes.

Yeah, Noelle reasoned. Nobody could see who she really was.

It was a relief to know Kieran didn’t blame her for the incident.

He simply nodded.

And yet—

Something deep inside him wanted to shout:

You never see who people really are.

She had fallen for Drayton’s deception just as much as she had fallen for his sister’s lies.

After everything they went through together...

He had always wondered—had she truly been fooled, or was there some intent to hurt him?

He resisted the urge to bite his nail, a habit that surfaced with these thoughts.

He could never understand her. And that was driving him crazy.

It drove him as crazy as the thought that maybe—just maybe—she had wanted to hurt him. Again.

He knew he had been wrong in how he treated Ogerpon. His own mind wouldn’t stop reminding him.

But some things... some things felt intentional.

Behind that angelic face, there might be something he had yet to see. And that scared him.

Behind that watery ey—

Wait.

Oh, shit.

He realized too late. A hollow feeling crept over him as he became aware of what he had done.

He had said that thought out loud.

Neither of them seemed to know what to say now.

She simply took a step back.

Why did making her feel bad feel so... wrong?

Why did it feel so awful?

Wasn’t that what he had wanted—to make her pay? A part of him felt hurt, betrayed. Shouldn’t that part feel better now that he had made her feel bad?

How stupid. Clearly not.

He was the one who had ruined things the most. He couldn’t let more moments like this happen if he wanted to be her friend again.

Now that their friendship was hanging by a thread—no, by an Ariados’s silk thread—he knew these things only made him want to disappear for five minutes.

He needed to find something to talk about, anything to ease this feeling.

If the awkward silence continued, he was going to lose his mind.

His sleep-deprived brain was failing him. Nothing came to mind.

Her gaze fixed on the ground only made him mentally beat himself up. It helped him make the superhuman effort to think quickly.

Desperate to get rid of the feeling inside him, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. So… have you catched some Pokémon lately? He felt a little stupid for asking such a thing, but in that state, he could only come up with textbook questions.

She took a moment to respond, processing.

The girl's expression changed briefly as she tried to recall. Mmm, no, the last one was Lizzy.That name didn’t ring any bells for him, actually. And I caught her a super long time ago. She didn’t know the word "while" existed.

She had been too busy trying to bring Kieran back to really explore the terrarium and catch Pokémon. And once things started to get better, she was too occupied with her duties as president of the League Club.

He tried to search his memory, but nothing. Noelle’s strange look only made him more uncomfortable. Who? It sounded harsher than he intended. That didn’t help the situation.

Ohh— A somewhat funny grimace formed on her face as she understood. My Meowstic. A smile appeared on the trainer’s face at the same time a shiver ran down his spine.

He didn’t like that Meowstic. And how was it? He tried to change the subject, leading it into an anecdote.

It wasn’t that it was particularly hostile. Seriously. It wasn’t even cold, distant, or anything. He had seen it with its trainer, and it was actually sweet, affectionate, and loved cuddles and Poképuffs.

But its eyes.

Something about its deep gaze made the purple-haired boy extremely uncomfortable. Too much. He felt that despite its smile, it could see into his mind or soul and was disapproving. After all, it was a Psychic-type Pokémon.

She simply replied, Ohh, I just went on a picnic once, and she appeared. She said it like it was nothing, as if it were the most simple and mundane thing in the world.

The surprise made Kieran’s voice come out as a shout—or at least the closest thing he could manage with his usually dull tone. Like that? Outta the blue? Something in his chest started to hurt.

There was another proof of how incredibly superior she was. He would never have been able to catch a Pokémon just like that, out of nowhere.

She began to explain, and each word only made it worse. Yeah, sometimes it happens. Not only that, but it had happened several times, it seems. She was an Espurr at the moment. My team and I had just finished training, so we were resting. Her fingers started playing with her hair. I was playing with them, and suddenly, she wanted to join.

What’s your secret? It was almost impossible to hide the slight frustration and jealousy buried deep inside him, drowned. It almost came out like a bark.

Was it that she was charming and had some secret that attracted them to her? Did Pokémon know how good of a trainer she was? Could they see that she would help them become their best selves? What did they see in her?

Noelle simply answered sincerely, I dunno, sometimes they just join our picnic or come for puffs or belly rubs. It was really that simple.

Yeah. Of course. She was much warmer. The pain in his chest began to increase.

Luisane, for example, wanted to try a Poképuff. She wanted to steal it with her telekinesis. Another smile escaped along with a laugh. Her eyes were full of affection for the companions that had made her who she was. In the end, she decided to follow me herself. I had to teach her not to steal.

At this point, Kieran was unable to say anything.

That was why it was easier for her. She truly loved her Pokémon and showed them so.

It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate his Pokémon, but he was definitely not like that with them.

She is such a sweetheart, sometimes a little skittish, but she is a true honey. Also, not many like her eyes, but I think they are really, really pretty. Noelle would definitely get along well with Lacey, given how she talked about that cute Pokémon like it was a dear friend.

How could they not want to be with her when she treated her Pokémon with love? He remembered the Poképuff recipe she had left in his bag days before leaving Kitakami. How could they not when she respected their wishes? If they didn’t like battling, she wouldn’t force them. If they didn’t want to follow her, she would let them be free.

How could he have forgotten something so stupidly important? That must have been the key to her victory—her Pokémon truly loved her.

Noelle grew tired of talking alone, so she decided to ask, Who was your last one?

She didn’t know what that question would cause. Because his last capture was…

I think it was— He knew. He just needed time to say it. I think it was Politoed.

Ohh. Her expression held both surprise and a bit of concern. Why?

They both knew what she meant by that why, but he decided to take it in another direction.

She wanted to know why he replaced Poliwrath.

I really wanted a Pokémon that could set rain, so I went to a river in Mossui and caught a Poliwag. Straightforward. Quick. Without having to think too much. Without pain.

He would change the subject quickly, and it wouldn’t be a problem.

Was it hard? It was as if she wanted to dig into his wound. He knew that wasn’t the case, but he couldn’t help feeling that way.

No. He said it quickly so his voice wouldn’t sound too choked. He hated when that happened.

It was a simple, honest answer. It hadn’t been hard to catch it. Not knowing how to swim had been the only complication, but he managed to capture it from the shore.

What he wouldn’t tell her was that he had spent an entire afternoon capturing Poliwags.

And searching for the best one. Choosing it only for its strength.

Like the terrible person he was. Not like her.

Was it hard to find the King’s Rock? He didn’t answer.

Now he remembered how much he missed them. How much he missed his old team.

The one he replaced for being weak.

Maybe his Poliwrath didn’t want to see him anymore, feeling abandoned or rereplaced.

Memories of other team members also surfaced, like Furret.

How could she be so strong when she loved her Pokémon so much?

He shouldn’t even call himself a trainer, right?

No. A trainer is someone who reaches victory with their companions, no matter who they are.

A trainer doesn’t abandon.

A trainer isn’t cruel like him.

A trainer doesn’t see their Pokémon only for their strength.

He needed to think of a way to make up for all this time with his Pokémon.

He had a lot to make up for. To the League Club, to Carmine.

To her.

All the people and Pokémon he had hurt started flashing through his mind.

Maybe he started turning redder than normal, maybe he didn’t realize that tears were streaming down his face. And maybe someone next to him saw it.

He owed so much to so many people—many of them probably didn’t even want to see him.

Now everyone was going to walk on eggshells around him. Carmine and the Elite Four would be uncomfortable in his presence after his long and crazy reign of tyranny.

He would have to earn his Pokémon’s trust again because… what assured them that he wouldn’t abandon them once more?

And her. He had treated her terribly since she set foot in Blueberry, and she had come to the academy to apologize (That’s what Carmine confessed him once) . And when he should have been the one apologizing, all he could do was rant about how much it frustrated him that she was so perfect, how he felt like a complete failure next to her, how she was everything he wished he could be.

When he should have apologized, he just vented.

She noticed how the topic was making him uncomfortable and started to act. You don’t have to tell me if you can’t. With her hand, she began to stroke his— But… are you okay?

He nodded, lying. Her words were breaking him even more.

He felt too much guilt to put it into words. Something in his throat started to tighten.

She had always been patient, and he couldn’t be more amazed and grateful for that.

Do you want to talk about something else? she offered. One more word and he was about to burst into tears.

He stayed silent.

She had always been so understanding. And he had always been an idiot. A complete idiot.

A strange mix of the fear of dying down there, the regret he carried, and the frustration of never being able to be like her hit him all at once.

Why couldn’t he be as good as her? She was the one who had come for help, and yet he was the one crying there, completely shamelessly.

Why did she still care about him when he had treated her like that? Every good thing she did hit him like tiny Toxic Hazards, reminding him that he didn’t deserve them.

That he had never been that good. That he could never be like that with anyone.

That he had hurt her.

And yet, she was still there. She didn’t have to be.

I was a-an asshole, he began to blurt out incoherently. I—I was a complete asshole. He started moving his hands frantically, as if he could somehow explain everything going through his mind with gestures alone— To everyone.

She wasn’t like that. She was light, the brightest light he had ever seen, like a giant red star.

She ran everywhere, talked to everyone, hugged whoever was in front of her. She took the world head-on.

She had infinite energy and a boundless glow. Her smile was inexhaustible, and the strength in her heart was immeasurable. Her spirit was a vibrant red, full of life.

Beautiful, energetic, radiant.

She was that and even more.

She wasn’t the mess sitting beside him. She wasn’t the girl who had shown up at his door at the middle of the nigth.

And that was his fault.

He had made the girl who never lowered her gaze look down, refusing to meet his eyes.

He had made the most determined girl in the world hesitate.

He had shaken her firm steps. And turned her shouts into whispers.

He had stolen her ribbons, her bracelets, and the glow in her eyes—her best feature.

Those eyes that could reflect an entire galaxy. Even if they were just black.

He had taken her shine away.

He kept babbling. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry— the sob becoming a whisper.

Hey, she called out. He didn’t seem to hear her.

She didn’t fully understand where all of this was coming from, but she was going to do whatever was necessary.

I’m sorry, he continued, his voice on the verge of breaking.

Hey, she called again, unsuccessfully. But that didn’t change the determination in her voice.

He seemed caught in a spiral that was hard to escape from.

I—I’m sorry, I’m sorry—he got lost in himself again.

Écoutez, s'il vous plaît! She said it without thinking, even she was surprised by her words. Her voice came out louder than she expected. That, along with a gentle squeeze of the hand she was holding, should be enough to bring him back to reality.

The action did manage to catch his attention. Startled, he looked at her. For a few seconds, there was a serenity in his gaze that he couldn’t handle.

He quickly looked back at the floor—he didn’t want to meet her eyes. You’ve been so good with me, and—

She moved in front of him to try to get his attention. Look at me, look at me.The firmness in her voice was noteworthy.

No, she wasn’t going to let him fall.

All of this was my fault too, she thought.

A-and I was nothing but- Another squeeze, a little firmer, interrupted him.

He wasn’t trapped in that treacherous fantasy world. There was no Ekans poisoning his mind. He was here.

Hey, look at me. This time, her voice was softer. She finally had his attention.

She finally got him to look into her eyes.

He could barely stand it—it felt like two black holes about to swallow him whole. But he couldn’t look away either.

Noelle took his other hand. His knuckles were bruised, so she held it as gently as possible.

She waited until his breathing steadied and he was able to speak.

I’ve been so bad whit you all this time. This time, his voice sounded a little less broken. Whit you, whit the club, whit my team too.

No, you weren’t. You were hurt. You are not a wrong person. She began to gently stroke his uninjured hand with her finger. She had known since she was little that focusing on something sensory was crucial to getting through moments like this.

He knew she meant to say "bad," but he didn’t have the heart to correct her. There she was, trying to make him feel better. He couldn’t stop himself from saying what was on his mind.

You were kind, and I treated you bad.He said. He couldn’t feel worse.

He remembered the twisted satisfaction he felt when he saw her expression darken after he came back from a battle.

He remembered his sick obsession back then and how she looked worse every time he saw her. And he remembered how he used that as motivation to train even harder.

The others watched him with concern, as if he were a Voltorb about to explode or a Pokémon ready to use Revenge after taking a brutal hit—waiting to return the damage twofold.

Only she and Carmine had looked at him without that fear—just concern. Like a Pokémon about to faint from its own Retaliation, too focused on causing pain.

And her reward for caring about him was his cruel smile.

Another sob escaped him as he thought about it.

No, you didn’t. You let me bring all my Pokémon, not just six. She squeezed his hand again and began to breathe slowly, so he would follow her lead. Even though it was against the rules.

He started breathing slowly too. It helped him think more clearly.

If his memory wasn’t failing him, the truth was the exact opposite. He had flat-out refused and said something as hurtful as “The queen wants to bring her whole entourage” when he read her request.

Oh, right. That walking toothpaste tube had taken care of it.

He stayed quiet, not having the heart to tell her that Drayton had forged his signature to make it happen.

But he didn’t think about it for long, because she kept reassuring him. Also, who else would open the door in the middle of the night? She laughed—a contagious laugh. You must have thought I was crazy.

Before he knew it, he was laughing too.

The question, "Why did she come here?" kept coming back, but another thought that had been eating at his mind since she crossed the doorway surfaced first.

I should've helped you. You can't sleep. And I'm the one crying.

She was the one who was supposed to cry if she needed to. That was why she had come to him, trusting that he would be patient and willing to help her get some sleep. So why was he the one having a crisis?

Her gaze changed for a mere second, as if trying to hold back a tear. And you did. I can't explain. But you did.

He wanted to know what she meant, but he didn’t ask.

Getting involved where they weren’t wanted was what nearly got them killed.

She squeezed his hands one last time. Listen, you can't change what you did. Noelle wasn’t going to deny his mistakes either. But at the very least, you can improve. What you did doesn't define you—it’s what you do for the future that matters.

He had no words, only a nod.

It felt as if she had done this a thousand times before. She knew exactly what to do and what to say.

And it worked.

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind. It unsettled him to think that maybe she was just following a procedure.

She remembered saying the exact opposite to someone years ago: "It’s not worth trying to control the future. It'll only hurt you." Then wiping away the childish tears of someone else.

She, too, pushed that thought to the back of her mind. There was no point in remembering her life in Lumiose if she couldn’t go back to it.

She called for his attention with her hand, making him meet her gaze again. This time, it hurt less. You're improving. The guy I met when I arrived at Blueberry wouldn’t have cared about helping me.

He saw himself reflected in her eyes, and he saw himself as better.

Even if those words stung, she was right. When she arrived at Blueberry, he had been surviving on chocolate and Red Tauros, with only his anger as fuel and a deep resentment as motivation.

It hadn't been a warm welcome, definitely.

Thankfully, things were better now.

Many people are incapable of stepping outside themselves, outside their anger. Her expression darkened for a moment as she said that. It was that kind of thinking that had led her region to ruin. But you did.

He managed to nod, but he couldn't say anything. That look gave him a feeling he couldn’t describe. He realized he hadn’t really gotten to know Noelle deeply, but now he was starting to wonder if that was even more superficial than he had thought.

She kept stroking his hand. So stop punishing yourself for it. You're already improving—

He was grateful he met her gaze at that moment because her smile was priceless.

You're doing well, you silly Espurr.

As he stared at her, stunned by the nickname, she leaned in slightly.

Now, let it all out—whatever you need.

The last dam of tears broke, this time without that horrible weight in his chest. A little lighter.

It didn’t last long, but he managed to let out the regret he had been carrying inside.

A small act pulled him out of his sorrow for a moment.

Noelle was sitting at the edge of the bed, just like him. Quietly, little by little, she pushed herself closer, closing the distance, her heart racing. Without realizing it, he allowed her to.

Until she was right beside him, and he could feel her arm and a bit of her hair against his shoulder.

Her touch brought him back to reality.

He expected his body to reject the contact. She was silently thanking Xerneas that the boy was so sleepy he allowed it.

He wasn’t like this. He had never liked physical contact. Since he was little, he had been scared of people touching him out of nowhere, finding it overwhelming and uncomfortable. And even more so when they started bullying him at school, and he had to hide behind his sister to avoid trouble. The physical contact he received from them was violent, which only deepened his aversion to it.

But for some reason, he didn’t want to stop her.

Even if part of him did, he couldn’t tell his body to pull away, he couldn’t ask his mouth to speak, he couldn’t get his mind to keep resisting.

Maybe he just didn’t have the energy to ask. He had felt drained all day, and after this exhausting situation, he was ready to sleep through the entire day. Maybe he just couldn't bring himself to summon the energy or the courage to ask.

Or maybe—just maybe—he liked being next to her.

It felt like a tingling sensation. Their arms touched, and even that felt like an explosion. And it only grew stronger when her head finally rested against his shoulder.

Something about it felt familiar, yet right now, it was something completely new. And for some reason, his body didn’t dislike it.

It was the first time in a long time he had felt someone’s touch.

And now that touch was meant to comfort him.

He couldn’t keep denying it.

Denying that he wanted this was utterly useless. He felt embraced, seen, light, cared for.

Her touch was warm. His body was so cold.

It wasn’t clear which of them needed that moment more, judging by the silent tears slipping from her eyes as well.

The idea that he might have caused them triggered another wave of sobs.

But he was grateful. Completely grateful.

Kieran didn’t even realize, but he wrapped an arm around her.

If anyone were to walk in and see them sitting together, leaning against each other with their gazes fixed on the floor, they would either think they were incredibly miserable or incredibly in love.

And then they’d send him straight to Cyrano’s office.

That’s what Kieran thought, as his cheeks turned red again. And he was right—if they were seen like this, it would become a huge rumor in a matter of minutes. But he simply tried to make himself comfortable.

He was too stunned to think anymore, overwhelmed by his own physical sensations.

For a moment, two stars collided. And their energy was both fleeting and infinite.

They stayed like that for a while, the girl resting against his side, and him gradually stopping his tears.

Simply thinking—just as she seemed to be doing.

Someone cared about him.

Not that he thought no one did—he knew Carmine cared in her own way, and that some in the Elite Four genuinely appreciated him, despite the shitty attitude he had with them.

Crispin, for example, always tried to offer him something to eat in the morning before training, noticing he only grabbed an energy bar. Drayton, in his own way, checked in on him.

But this was entirely new.

Despite how he had treated her, she was here, trying to comfort him.

He didn’t know how to react to that.

He wished that moment could last forever, but the time it lasted was enough.