Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Paul has been sitting at home for the past few weeks, restless and directionless. The battle against Brandon had been grueling, and though he emerged victorious, it didn’t bring the satisfaction he had hoped for.

“You need a vacation,” Reggie finally declares one evening over dinner. “No gym battles, no extensive training, and no moping at home - just a simple, relaxing vacation.”

Paul snorts. “I don’t do relaxing.”

Maylene, seated beside Reggie, chuckles. “There’s no way Paul can go to a region and not battle a gym leader,” she teases with a wave, her shiny new engagement ring catching the light. “You’ll have to send him somewhere with no gym leaders for that.”

They both laugh, but Reggie stops abruptly, his eyes lighting up. “That’s it!”

.

The cool, crisp air of Twinleaf Town greets Dawn as she opens the living room window. The golden hues of the early morning sun cast a glow over the streets, but her mind feels far from warm or settled. Her sketchbook lies open on the small table beside her, filled with half-finished fashion designs.

She sips her tea, trying to shake off the doubt. A question in her mind lingers, unwelcome and persistent.

A sudden knock at the door pulls her from her thoughts. 

Her heart skips a beat as she sees Paul standing on the porch, his usual stoic expression softened just enough to show he’s glad to see her.

“Paul!” she exclaims, her dead eyes lighting up as she throws her arms around him. 

The gesture catches him off guard, but after a beat, he raises an arm to hug her back lightly.

When she pulls away, Paul frowns, his eyes scanning her appearance critically. “What have you been doing? You look horrible.”

She glares at him. “Thanks,” she says sourly. “Aren’t you the sweetest?”

I’ve been moping for the past three weeks because I miss you, she mentally replies, but she doesn’t dare say it aloud.

He ignores her retort. “Don’t you have a Grand Festival to be preparing for?” His tone is accusatory.

Her shoulders slump, and she looks away. “Sure. After I win five ribbons.”

He shakes his head and sighs at her. “Go get dressed. I need your help.” 

“With what?” 

His mouth twists in distaste. “Shopping.” 

Dawn blinks. “Shopping? You?”

“ I’m leaving for Alola tomorrow. Reggie thinks I need new clothes,” he explains, the faintest hint of irritation in his voice.

“Whoa, Alola?” A grin spreads across Dawn’s face. “You came all the way here because you need a shopping buddy?”

“You’re good at this stuff,” Paul mutters, avoiding her gaze.

Her laughter fills the room as she runs upstairs to change.

.

The streets of Jubilife City are bustling with life, the perfect contrast to Dawn’s otherwise uneventful days at home. Paul walks slightly ahead of her, his hands stuffed into his pockets, while Dawn flits from shop window to shop window.

“It was very nice of your mom to offer to let me stay the night,” Paul remarks, as he holds open the door to a shop.

Dawn glances at him as she enters after him, her eyes warm. “Of course. It wouldn’t make sense for you to spend the rest of the day traveling all the way back to Veilstone, only to return to Sandgem Bay tomorrow.” She grins suddenly and holds up a turquoise V-neck shirt to Paul’s chest. “Oh! You’re going to love this one!”

Paul raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue, giving a reluctant nod of approval.

She tosses the shirt into an empty cart with a triumphant grin. “I am good at this.”

After several stores, they finally settle on a few essentials: lightweight shirts, cargo shorts, and a pair of sturdy hiking shoes. Dawn insists on adding a light olive parka with a faux fur-lined hood to the pile, much to Paul’s dismay.

“It’ll look good on you!” she argues.

Paul groans. “Fine.”

Dawn pulls out a pair of khaki-colored cargo shorts from another rack. “What about these?”

Paul takes them, eyeing them critically before switching them for a charcoal-colored pair. “These are better,” he mutters, folding them into the trolley.

Dawn blinks. “You’re surprisingly picky about clothes for someone who doesn’t care about fashion.”

Paul shrugs. “I just want things to be practical. It’s going to be hot there.”

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. “I’ve never been to Alola before, but I’ve heard it’s very pretty.”

As they move to the next aisle, Paul stares at Dawn thoughtfully. 

“Come with me.” The words are out of his mouth before he realizes it. 

Dawn’s breath hitches, but her lips tug into a wistful smile. 

“I have to participate in the contest circuit,” she says softly, almost ruefully. “Go and spend some time with your Pokémon before the next Lily of the Valley Conference. Reggie’s right, you need to relax. You guys worked so hard to beat Brandon that you deserve a break. It’s good that he suggested Alola since there aren’t any gym leaders or a Pokémon League there.” She grins playfully. “And you’ll get a break from me too in this way.”

Paul shakes his head. “I don’t need a break from you. I’ve gotten used to you being around.”

Her chest tightens at his words, but she forces a smile. “It’ll feel weird not to be traveling with me this time, won’t it? Though, I guess, we weren’t together in Johto either,” she murmurs, as she mulls over the double meaning behind her words. Sure, they’ve kissed once and had a few almost kisses after that, but it’s not like they’re together now, either. 

Maybe . . . she’ll kiss him tonight.

Paul glances at her, his expression unreadable. “It won’t be like Johto,” he says, his voice slightly strained.

Dawn tilts her head in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

Paul doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he pushes the cart forward. “I need shoes.”

Dawn blinks. “Sandals?”

He shakes his head. “Shoes,” he says with a tone of finality in his voice. 

She sighs in exasperation. “Shoes,” she repeats, shaking her head and sighing.

.

“Beating Brandon didn’t give me the satisfaction I was hoping for.”

They're sitting on Dawn's living room couch, the soft light of a single lamp casting a warm glow around them. It’s late, and remnants of their milk and cookies are spread across the coffee table. Their voices are soft, barely a whisper, as Johanna sleeps soundly just a room away.

Dawn sets down her mug, startled by his candor. “I knew it,” she says softly.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Paul’s eyes narrow at her suspiciously.

She sighs and leans back against the cushions. “Would you have listened?”

He doesn’t answer, but the silence speaks volumes.

“Exactly,” she continues. “Your usual stubbornness aside, you had to go through it on your own. You had to face him, Paul. Even if it didn’t feel the way you thought it would, it’s something you had to do.”

With his eyes, full of regret, downcast, he mumbles. “Did I make a mistake? Should I have left things as they were?”

Dawn's heart aches seeing him so vulnerable. “No,” she says firmly, taking his hand in hers. “What you did was difficult but brave. You told him the truth. That matters.” Truly, she doesn't know what she would have done if it were her father estranged from her and she were in Paul’s shoes.

“Thanks,” he mutters, barely audible, but Dawn catches it.

She squeezes his hand and stands. She tugs on his hand lightly, gesturing for him to get up from the couch. “Come on.” Her head nods towards the stairs, where her room is. “Let’s go to bed.”

Paul raises an eyebrow, clearly confused. “I’m in the guest room.” Mimicking Dawn, his head tilts to the two doors past the kitchen, leading to Johanna’s room and the guest room.

Dawn grins playfully, managing to get him up and dragging him to the stairs. “Nope! You’re coming with me.”

He hesitates, eyeing her warily. “I can’t do that to Johanna in her own house.”

She rolls her eyes. “Sure you can - Johanna doesn’t care, and it’s my house, too.”

“Dawn . . .” His protest is half-hearted, his resolve already weakening.

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she pats the banister beside her. “Come on. We’re only just sleeping, anyway.”

Paul is torn - he looks between the stairs and Johanna’s room door. Finally a few moments of contemplation, he softly exhales and acquiesces with a bow of his head in defeat. “Fine.”

Dawn’s eyes light up, and before he can change his mind, she takes his hand. 

Maybe the thrill running through Dawn is from the daring act of bringing a boy into her room under her sleeping mother’s nose, but acting on it, she moves to place a quick peck on his cheek and leads him up the stairs with a giggle.

In the quiet of her bedroom, they lie side by side on her bed, the silence between them thick with unspoken words. Dawn’s adrenaline wears off quickly as she comes to a realization.

“Paul...” she begins hesitantly. “What comes after this?”

He turns his head to look at her, his stormy eyes unreadable. “You mean after I come back from Alola?”

“Yeah,” she whispers.

“I don’t know,” he admits. 

Feeling brave, Dawn shifts closer to him, her hand lightly brushing against his arm. “I’m going to miss you.”

Paul turns his head to look at her, his eyes softening just a fraction. “You’ll be fine without me.”

Dawn's heart skips a beat, not from his words, but from the way he’s looking at her now - calm, assured, and a little more vulnerable than usual.

“I . . . I feel better with you,” she admits softly, feeling her face heat up, but she doesn’t look away.

There’s a moment, a charged pause, where neither of them says anything. Paul’s eyes flicker to her lips for just a second, and Dawn feels her breath catch in her throat. The air between them is heavy, thick with the tension of unspoken feelings.

For a heartbeat, Dawn thinks he’s going to close the distance between them. Her pulse quickens, and she inches just a little closer, waiting, almost hoping -

But then Paul shifts, breaking the moment. “We should get some rest. Long day tomorrow,” he mutters, rolling over onto his back, effectively ending the conversation.

Dawn bites her lip, disappointed but not surprised. It’s just like him to change the subject. She watches him for a moment longer, her heart still racing from the near-kiss that never came. She had thought about kissing him tonight, but maybe tomorrow would be better.

With a sigh, she turns over and closes her eyes, trying to ignore the ache of unfulfilled anticipation in her chest.

“Goodnight, Paul,” she whispers softly.

He doesn’t reply right away, but after a few beats, his voice comes, with a low, quiet chuckle. “Goodnight, troublesome girl.”

As Dawn drifts off to sleep, her thoughts linger on what almost happened, and what might happen tomorrow.

.

Sandgem Bay sparkles under the golden light of dawn. 

Standing at the port evokes a strange sense that things have come full circle. The last time Dawn was here, she was leaving for Hoenn, and Paul had arrived from his own journey - two separate paths crossing by chance. Now, after traveling so far together, they find themselves at another crossroads, parting once again - no longer strangers, but something far more difficult to leave behind.

She silently watches Paul from afar, as he hands his ticket to the ticket inspector, who tells him that he is all set. 

He turns to Dawn, his stormy eyes burning into hers, as he strolls back to where she stands. Her breathing becomes visibly heavy as he comes closer to her. 

The words are on the tip of her tongue, itching to express her feelings to him, and she decides that it’s now or never. 

“Paul - “ she starts, but is cut off by his soft, warm lips capturing her own in a searing kiss. 

She’s momentarily stunned, unresponsive, but then remembers to breathe. She finally moves her lips beneath his. His hand reaches to tenderly cup the side of her face, while her hand moves to touch the top of his arm as she kisses him back. 

Dawn’s lips blaze as he pulls away. 

He stares at her with those dark, intense eyes once more, as they both catch breath. “I’ll . . . I’ll be back soon,” he says simply. There’s an unspoken declaration behind his words. I’ll miss you.  

“Take care,” she whispers.

He leans down to the top of her hatless head. “You, too,” he murmurs against her forehead, before letting go of her face and walking away, leaving her breathless.

Chapter Text

Paul strides through the sunlit streets of Hau’oli City, taking in the lively atmosphere. He’s never been to a region quite like this before - where the air feels perpetually warm, the people are friendly to a fault, and even the Pokémon seem unusually carefree. 

It's . . . different, and he’s not sure how he feels about it yet.  

The region’s relaxed atmosphere feels foreign to him - a stark contrast to the rigorous training and focused battles that usually define his life. As he passes street performers and cheerful locals, he wonders why Reggie thought this would be a good idea.

As he turns a corner, a commotion draws his attention. A group of young trainers in mismatched clothing, their movements exaggerated.

“Yo, tough guy!” one of them yells, spotting Paul.

Paul stops, glaring at them. After a moment of tense silence, he finally answers. “What?”

The leader, a tall boy with a ridiculous bandana and wild hair, crosses his arms. “Team Skull doesn’t like when someone ignores us!”

Paul narrows his eyes, unimpressed. “Not interested.”

Another grunt scoffs. “Oh, you’ll be interested when we mess you up, bruh!”

“Mess me up, huh?” Paul repeats blankly. 

The tallest one smirks, crossing his arms. “You’re new around here, huh? Team Skull doesn’t like strangers actin’ all high and mighty.”

Paul sighs, already bored. “Move.”

The leader sneers. “Oh, you think you’re tough? Let’s see how tough you are!” He throws out a Poké Ball, revealing a Salandit.

Paul releases Electivire without hesitation. “Try me.”

The battle is over in minutes. Team Skull’s Pokémon stand defeated, their trainers scrambling to recall them.  

“Man, forget this guy!” the leader yells, before the group retreats, muttering curses under their breath.

Paul shakes his head and recalls Electivire. “Pathetic.”

A soft chuckle catches his attention. He turns to see a man with a white coat draped over his shirtless torso, his tan skin gleaming under the sun. Beside him is a familiar figure.

Paul frowns, recognizing Gary Oak immediately. “What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying the show,” Gary replies smoothly. “Good to see you again, too, Paul. Professor Rowan told me you’d be here, you know.”

“You handled them like a pro!” the other man grins, stepping forward. “That was some nice battling. I’m Professor Kukui. Welcome to Alola, Paul.”

Paul gives a curt nod before bowing respectfully. “Thank you, Professor Kukui.”

Gary gestures to Kukui. “Professor Kukui’s been showing me around while I’m visiting for some research. What about you? Taking a vacation?”

Paul shrugs. “Something like that.”

Kukui’s eyes light up. “If you’re staying for a while, you should visit the Pokémon School. We’ve got some young trainers who’d love to see a battle like that.”

Paul’s initial instinct is to refuse, but Gary’s thoughtful expression makes him pause.

“So,” Gary starts, his tone casual, “you’re pretty good with those rough types. Ever thought about teaching? Passing on some of that skill to the next generation?”

Paul scoffs. “Not interested.”

Gary raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press further. “Well, if you change your mind, the professor and I will be at the school tomorrow. Stop by.”

Paul watches as they walk off, Kukui chatting animatedly. He shakes his head and continues on his way.

Despite himself, Paul finds himself at the Pokémon School the next day. Kukui introduces him to the students, who are immediately captivated by his serious demeanor.

Paul demonstrates advanced battle strategies, using Electivire to show how type matchups and timing can turn the tide of a battle. He even spars with Kiawe’s Marowak, earning the admiration of the students. Though Paul wins, the battle leaves him intrigued by Kiawe’s mention of Z-Moves and their unique training style.

Kiawe offers to teach him about Z-Moves, and Paul reluctantly agrees, wanting to understand more about this unfamiliar power. As the days pass, Paul immerses himself in the Alolan culture, learning not just about battling but also about the importance of harmony between trainers and Pokémon. For the first time in a while, he feels a shift in his usual intense approach to training.

Meanwhile, Gary observes from the sidelines, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. 

After a week, he approaches Paul.

“You’ve got a knack for this,” Gary says. “These kids are eating it up.”

Paul shrugs. “It’s just battling.”

Gary chuckles. “Maybe to you. To them, it’s inspiration.”

Paul narrows his eyes. “What are you getting at?”

Gary doesn’t answer directly, but the gleam in his eye suggests he’s up to something. “You’ll see,” he says cryptically before walking away, already pulling out his Pokégear.

.

Back in Twinleaf Town, Dawn stands in her backyard with Lopunny, Piplup, Pachirisu, along with her mother’s Glameow and her own new Buneary. They’re in the middle of rehearsing a routine for the upcoming contest circuit. While Glameow and Buneary observe, Lopunny twirls gracefully, Pachirisu sparks with excitement, and Piplup observes her intently.

“Alright, Pachirisu, your turn!” Dawn announces, holding up a practice ribbon.

Pachirisu chirps enthusiastically, rushing through the mock routine Dawn had designed. Its movements are fluid, and its sparks add a dramatic flair that draws a delighted clap from Dawn. The vibrant blue of Pachirisu’s sparks ignites a design idea.

“Alright, Lopunny, now try the spin into Ice Beam again!” she calls, trying to suppress the design in her head for now.

Lopunny gracefully leaps into the air, executing the move flawlessly. But instead of cheering, Dawn’s mind fills with an image of another dress, inspired by the shimmering ice. She lowers her hands, her eyes glazing over.

“Hold on, guys,” she mutters, But as the performance concludes, Dawn’s thoughts drift. 

Without thinking, she rushes over to her sketchpad sitting on the patio table. Pencil in hand, she begins sketching feverishly.

“Blue sequins with a silver overlay . . .  Maybe Lopunny could wear a matching accessory . . . ”

Her Pokémon exchange confused glances, unsure why their trainer has stopped mid-practice. Piplup waddles over, tapping the sketchbook with his beak. “Pip, pip, piplup!”

Dawn snaps out of her reverie. “Oh! Sorry, everyone.” She sets the sketchbook aside and pats Piplup’s head. “Let’s try again.”

But her eyes linger longingly on the sketchbook.

From the kitchen window, Johanna watches her daughter. There’s a soft smile on her face, but her keen eyes catch the subtle hesitation in Dawn’s movements.

Later, as Dawn sits sketching in the shade of the garden tree, Johanna approaches with a tray of drinks. “You’ve been out here all morning. How’s contest practice going?”

Dawn freezes, her pencil hovering over the page. “It’s . . .  going,” she says hesitantly.

Johanna sits beside her, peeking at the sketchbook. “Hmm. That doesn’t look like a routine.”

Dawn quickly shuts the book, a nervous laugh escaping her. “Just . . .  taking a break.”

Johanna’s brow furrows slightly but doesn’t press. “Paul’s on the phone,” she says instead, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Dawn’s face lights up. “Thanks, Mom!” She bolts inside, leaving her Pokémon to look after her with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

Dawn approaches the video phone, her face lighting up as she sees Paul on the screen. “Paul!” She halts mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she takes in his appearance. “You cut your hair!”

Paul raises an eyebrow. “ Yeah. What about it ?”

Dawn leans closer to the screen, mockingly inspecting him. “I liked the ponytail . . .  It made you look . . .  distinguished.”

Paul huffs, clearly unimpressed. “ And more like Reggie. It was annoying. This is better .”

Dawn pouts dramatically, resting her chin on her hand. “You should’ve let me braid it first. That would’ve been way cuter.”

Paul rolls his eyes, but there’s a faint upward twitch at the corner of his mouth. “ I’ll keep that in mind if I ever grow it out again .”

Dawn laughs, the sound light and genuine, but her tone shifts slightly as she asks, “So, how’s Alola?”

He glances away from the screen briefly, as if gathering his thoughts. “ It’s . . .  different. Relaxed. The trainers here have a completely different approach to battling .”

She tilts her head, curious. “Different how?”

“ They focus more on bonds with their Pokémon, teamwork, and even unconventional methods like Z-Moves. It’s . . .  interesting .” He hesitates, his voice quieter. “ Maybe it’s something I needed .”

Her smile softens. “That’s great, Paul. A change of pace might be good for you.”

Paul looks back at her, studying her expression. “ What about you? How’s contest prep going ?”

Dawn freezes for a moment, the question hitting harder than she expected. She shifts uncomfortably, her gaze dropping. “It’s . . . slow.”

He frowns, leaning closer to the screen. “ Why ?”

She hesitates, unsure how to put her feelings into words. Her voice comes out quieter than intended. “I keep getting distracted. Every time I try to practice a routine, I end up sketching designs instead. It’s like . . . like my head’s somewhere else.”

His frown deepens, his tone softening. “ So your heart’s not in it .”

She bites her lip, the truth of his words stinging. “I don’t know. Maybe. But . . . contests have been my dream for so long. I don’t want to just . . . let it go.”

Paul considers her words carefully before responding. “ You don’t have to decide everything right now. Why not continue with the circuit and see how you feel? It’s okay to take your time .”

She blinks, surprised by his understanding tone. “You really think so?”

He nods. “ Yeah. You don’t have to choose one over the other. Do both, and if one feels right, go with it. No one’s keeping score .”

She purses her lips, though she cannot deny that it’s a good idea. “I’ll try that for now.” Still, something about it does not seem to satisfy her - isn’t that what she’s trying to do now?

“You know, I’m in a similar situation, actually.”

Dawn sits up straighter, sensing the shift in his tone. “Huh? What do you mean?”

He glances away briefly before meeting her eyes again. “ Gary and Professor Kukui have been . . .  talking. Gary called Professor Oak. Silver turned down the Viridian City Gym Leader position to pursue the Indigo League, but recommended me. ”

Her eyes widen. “He did? Paul, that’s amazing! Are you going to take it?” She remembers him mentioning back in Kanto that he would take on a gym leader position for a few years, if given the chance.

Paul leans back slightly, his expression conflicted. “ I don’t know. It feels like . . . like giving up on my goal to become Champion. But at the same time, Professor Oak said it could be an opportunity to inspire others, to give something back .”

Dawn studies his face, her heart swelling with admiration. “Paul . . . whatever you decide, I know you’ll make the right choice. You’ve always been focused and determined. This could be a different kind of challenge, but that doesn’t mean you’re giving up.”

His lips press into a thin line, but there’s a flicker of resolve in his eyes. “ Maybe. I’m thinking about it, but I wanted to tell you before I make a decision .”

Dawn cannot hold back her beam at that.

Paul, on the other hand, appears to be pensive. “ Gary also gave me something . . . a Garchomp, from Silver . I think it was from his dad’s Gym. ”

“A Garchomp?” Dawn repeats curiously. What a generous gift, a fully evolved Pokémom. The image of Paul battling with a Garchomp reminds her of Cynthia and her own Garchomp. “Oh, yeah! Isn’t the Viridian Gym ground-type?”

“ It used to be, but Gary said I wouldn’t have to even stick with a particular type. He didn’t either when he was the interim gym leader. ”

“Oh, that’s interesting.” Gym Leader Paul has a nice ring to it, admittedly.

The two fall into a comfortable silence until Paul speaks again.

“ There’s something else ,” he repeats, his tone now lighter.

She raises an eyebrow, curious. “What now ?”

He smirks faintly. “ Alola doesn’t have gyms, but it does have Island Trials. ”

Dawn’s face twists into a mix of amusement and exasperation as Paul explains how the Island Trials work in Alola. “ Seriously ?”

From the side of the screen, Piplup facepalms with an exaggerated sigh.

“So much for a vacation,” Dawn mutters, shaking her head.

Paul’s smirk grows, and for a moment, there’s a rare glimmer of mischief in his stormy eyes. “ What can I say? Old habits .”

She laughs, her heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “You’re unbelievable, Paul.”

“ See you late r,” he says, his voice steady but tinged with a faint warmth.

“Yeah,” she replies, her smile lingering even as the call ends. “See you.”

As the screen goes dark, Dawn sits back, her thoughts swirling. Paul’s words replay in her mind, offering both comfort and clarity. For the first time in weeks, she feels a sense of direction.

Shortly after, she makes her way back to the backyard. The fresh Sinnoh air carries a stronger warmth, reminding her of the changing seasons. Piplup is sparring playfully with Lopunny, while Pachirisu scampers around, darting between bushes.

Dawn tries to focus on rehearsing again for her next contest routine. She gestures toward Pachirisu, who executes a Swift attack with dazzling precision, sending a shower of sparkling stars into the air. Yet, as she watches the display, her mind wanders.

Her fingers itch, and before she realizes it, she’s abandoned her routine to pull out her sketchbook once more. The lines flow effortlessly as she quickly sketches an outfit inspired by Pachirisu’s glowing Swift, the design elegant yet playful.

Pachirisu bounds over, tilting its head curiously at her sudden change in focus. Buneary hops closer, her ears drooping slightly as if wondering why Dawn isn’t offering guidance on their next move. Even Piplup waddles up, crossing his flippers over his chest and giving her a pointed look.

“Pip-lup!” he scolds, making Dawn wince.

“I know, I know, sorry,” she mutters, setting the sketchbook aside. “Training time should be training time. I can take out time for designing tonight.”

But the pull toward fashion feels stronger than ever, leaving her feeling torn. She looks up at the sky, wondering what Paul is doing right now in Alola. Her thoughts drift to their video call and the way he encouraged her to follow her heart. 

The moment is interrupted by a familiar voice calling out from the gate. “Hey, Dawn!”

Dawn turns, her eyes lighting up as she recognizes the visitor. “Zoey!”

Zoey strides into the yard, her trademark confidence radiating from her every step. “Thought I’d stop by while I was in Twinleaf Town. You know, check in on my favorite rival.”

Dawn laughs, running to hug her friend. “It’s so good to see you!”

As they catch up, Dawn’s excitement bubbles over, and she finds herself talking about her time with Paul in Kalos and how she’s been feeling lately. She hesitates suddenly, scared to admit her struggles between fashion and contests.

Thankfully, Zoey fills the sudden silence. “So . . . Candice and I have been talking,” she starts, her tone more deliberate.

Dawn raises an eyebrow. “Oh?” For a split second, she wonders if Zoey has expressed her feelings for Candice.

But Zoey continues, unaware of Dawn’s thoughts. “Hermione approached Candice about hosting a Pokémon fashion show at the Sinnoh Resort Area. She wants to hold a competition alongside it. It’s supposed to be a big deal - regional coverage, sponsors, the works.”

Dawn’s eyes widen. “Wait . . . a fashion show and competition ?” She leans forward, excitement bubbling up. But before she can react, Zoey hits her with the twist.

“We want you to organize it.”

Dawn freezes.

“ . . . Wait, what?”

Zoey smirks knowingly. “Knew that would get your attention. Candice and I talked it over, and Hermione agrees - you’d be perfect for this. You know the industry, you understand how performances work, and let’s be honest - you live and breathe this stuff.”

Dawn’s heart pounds. She can already picture it - the grand stage of the Resort Area, the dazzling lights, the elegantly dressed models and Pokémon walking the runway, getting the chance to showcase her own designs, organizing the show, and working with top designers. This could be huge for her.

But then doubt seeps in.

“I . . . I love the idea,” Dawn admits slowly. “But . . . I mean, I’m a coordinator first. That’s what I’ve always been. I’m not a proper Poké Stylist.”

Zoey shrugs. “Could’ve fooled me.” She gestures to the sketchbook on the garden table, the one filled with designs rather than contest strategies.

Dawn follows her gaze and swallows hard.

Zoey’s voice softens just a fraction. “Look, I’ve seen how much this means to you. I know coordinating has always been your dream, but this? This is different.”

Dawn opens her mouth, then closes it again.

She looks at her sketchbook - at the dozens of designs she’s poured hours into. She glances at her Pokémon - who have been patiently waiting for her to focus on training.

Zoey must see something shift in her expression, “Dawn, you’re not giving up on coordinating if you do this. You’re expanding. Besides,” she continues, leaning forward, “we’ve seen your designs. You have the talent. You just need the chance to show it.”

Dawn glances down, chewing on her lip. She should say no. Her contests come first, right? They always have.

Then why does the idea of walking away from this opportunity feel harder than she expected?

Her conversation with Paul from earlier comes to mind. She isn’t limited from doing both, as he told her. 

But she would be forgoing this year’s contest circuit . . .

“I . . . I need to think about it,” she finally says, her voice quieter now.

Zoey nods, completely understanding. “Of course. Just don’t take too long. We all believe in you.”

Dawn looks up, meeting Zoey’s eyes.

There’s no pressure in her gaze, just trust - trust that Dawn will figure it out.

Chapter Text

The afternoon sun filters through Twinleaf Town’s trees as Dawn lounges on her bed, absentmindedly flipping through her sketchbook.

Her latest designs - a mix of Pokémon fashion contest outfits, coordinating dresses, and accessories - stare back at her, filling the pages with an unmistakable energy.

Her PokéNav sits beside her. She bites her lip, staring at it. Then, with a deep breath, she dials Paul.

The conversation with Hermione is still playing on a loop in her head, the words “we want you to lead the show” echoing with equal parts awe and panic.

Paul picks up after two rings.

“ You sound stressed ,” he says without preamble.

“Am I that obvious?” she sighs, flopping onto the bed.

“ You’re breathing like someone just sent you into the appeals without a rehearsal .”

Dawn hesitates, suddenly second-guessing herself. Why is she even telling him this? It’s not like she’s made a decision yet. But something about Paul’s bluntness makes her want to hear his take.

“I, um, got an offer,” she says finally.

Paul is silent for a beat. “ For what ?”

“To organize a fashion show. To lead the event,” Dawn says, voice half-laughing, half-panicked. “A full fashion show. The Resort Area. It’s insane.”

Paul is quiet for a moment. “ Are you going to do it ?”

That’s all it takes for her to keep rambling.

“I mean, it’s a huge opportunity,” she rushes out. “Regional coverage, Hermione’s involved, Zoey and Candice asked me - ”

Paul cuts her off. “ What’s stopping you ?”

Dawn freezes.

She blinks up at the ceiling.

Her heart pounds, because she doesn’t have an answer.

Her mind races through every excuse she’s been telling herself.

-  Contests have been her dream since she was a child, to be a Grand Coordinator like her mother.

-  She’s supposed to be preparing for the Grand Festival.

-  This was supposed to be the year she made her comeback.

But . . . 

The idea of turning this offer down makes her stomach churn.

Paul waits.

“It’s not what I came back to Sinnoh for. I was supposed to focus on contests - build momentum again, earn ribbons, prep for the Grand Festival.” Her words come out fast, like she’s trying to convince herself more than him. “And now I’m thinking about hemlines and lighting and staging instead of battle choreography.”

Paul scoffs lightly. “ Then that’s your answer .”

Dawn frowns. “What do you mean?”

Paul shifts. “ If you really didn’t want to do it, you wouldn’t even be thinking about it .”

Dawn opens her mouth to argue, but the words die in her throat.

Because he’s right .

Paul lets her sit with that realization for a moment before speaking again.

“ Why not just do both ?”

Dawn blinks. “Huh?”

Paul sounds annoyed, like this is obvious. “ Why not keep competing and handle the fashion show? ”

Dawn chews on her lip. “If I do, I’d have to pull out of the circuit before the Grand Festival. The planning would take up too much time.”

“ So ?”

Dawn gawks. “So?! Paul, that means I wouldn’t even be able to make it to the Grand Festival this year!”

Paul snorts. “ And ?”

Dawn splutters. “And?! That’s - That’s the whole point of competing this year!”

Paul flatly counters. “ Is it ?”

Dawn freezes again.

The question knocks the air out of her.

She wants to say yes. That of course it is. That winning the Grand Festival is everything she’s ever wanted.

But . . .

If it were, then why is she even considering this fashion show?

Paul sighs.

“ Look ,” he says, more patient now, “ If you really want to compete this year, then do it. But if you don’t . . . no one’s forcing you .”

Dawn stares at her sketchbook, the pages filled with designs.

She swallows. “Honestly, I’ve just been feeling . . . off. Like I’m forcing something that doesn’t quite fit anymore.”

Paul stays silent for a moment, his gaze steady through the screen. “ Then maybe you do need a break. ”

Dawn blinks. “A break? From contests?”

He nods. “ If your heart’s not in it, forcing yourself won’t help. Focus on fashion for now. See where it takes you. You can always come back to contests later .”

“But what if I can’t?” Her voice trembles slightly, betraying the fear she’s been trying to swallow. “What if I walk away and I lose everything I’ve built?”

Paul’s eyes soften. For once, the sharp edges of his voice round out into something quieter. “ Then maybe it wasn’t meant to be. But if it is, you’ll find your way back. Dreams can change, Dawn. That doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It just means you’re growing .”

Dawn feels a lump rise in her throat. His words hit deeper than she expects - exactly what she didn’t realize she needed to hear.

“I . . . I need to think about it,” she finally says, earnestly.

Paul hums in acknowledgment.

Then, in typical Paul fashion, he says, “ Just don’t take too long. You overthink .”

Dawn scowls. “Excuse me?”

Paul hangs up.

Dawn gapes at the now dark screen.

Then, despite herself, she laughs.

.

Behind the Eterna City Contest Hall, Dawn leads Chloe to a battlefield, where coordinators prepare their Pokémon.

“You see, contests aren’t just about winning battles,” Dawn explains, gesturing to the dazzling displays of trainers perfecting their combinations. “It’s about showing off your Pokémon’s natural elegance and creativity. The more synchronized and artistic your moves, the better your score.”

Chloe watches as Dawn practices with Lopunny.

“Lopunny, Swift into Ice Beam!”

Lopunny leaps into the air, sending a cascade of golden stars that freeze into delicate crystals midair. The light refracts through the ice, creating a dazzling effect.

Chloe’s eyes widen in awe. “That was . . . beautiful.”

Dawn beams. “That’s the magic of Pokémon Contests.”

As she prepares for her round, Dawn feels the exhilaration return - the rush, the energy, the sheer joy of performing. For the first time in days, she isn’t thinking about sketches or designs. She’s fully immersed in coordinating again.

And it feels good.

.

“Piplup, Spotlight!”

Her starter Pokémon appears, chirping confidently.

“Piplup, Ice Beam in a spiral formation,” Dawn commands, feeling a familiar thrill of exhilaration run through her.

Piplup leaps high and releases a ribboning stream of ice that coils like a vine across the sky. The cold air trails behind her in a graceful arc, frosting the air itself into a twisting, glittering helix.

“Now, Bubble Beam, through the center!”

“Pip, luuuup!” He spins forward, launching a beam of iridescent bubbles into the heart of the ice spiral. The bubbles travel upward, refracting light against the frozen trail, scattering rays in every direction. The result is breathtaking: the frozen vine now blooms with prism-colored sparkles that resemble petals.

Marion gasps softly. “ It’s like a crystal flower garden . . . ”

Dawn smiles softly.

This appeals combination is personal.

Later, when the results are announced, Dawn takes first place. The ribbon is placed in her hands, the crowd applauds, her friends cheer, and Piplup chirps excitedly.

She should feel fulfilled.

But as she stands there on stage, a strange pang of hesitation lingers in her chest.

She’s happy, but . . . is she as fulfilled as before?

.

After the contest, Dawn catches up with Ash, Chloe, and Goh outside the hall.

“Told ya, Dawn’s an amazing coordinator!”

“You are amazing!” Chloe says, still starry-eyed. “I had no idea the contests were so intricate!”

Dawn smiles, flipping her hair. “Told you I’d show you.”

But Ash, perceptive as ever, frowns slightly. “Hey, somethin’ wrong?”

“It felt good - great, actually,” Dawn admits. She hesitates, twirling the ribbon between her fingers. “It’s just . . . I loved performing again, but something still feels . . . off.”

Goh tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

Dawn exhales, looking down at her sketchbook peeking from her bag.

“I love coordinating. I always have,” she murmurs. “But lately . . . fashion has been pulling me in another direction. And now that I’ve won, I’m starting to wonder if this is the right path for me - right now.”

Chloe listens intently. “You don’t have to give up one for the other, do you?”

Dawn shakes her head. “No, but . . . if I take on the fashion show at the Resort Area, I won’t be able to compete in this year’s contest circuit.”

Ash nods slowly, recalling when he struggled with his own path. “That’s tough. But you know, I had a moment like that too.”

Dawn looks up, curious.

“I had a chance to become a Research Fellow,” Ash explains. “It was a big deal, but I wasn’t ready to stop battling yet. I took the opportunity, but I also kept training. Just because you pause one thing doesn’t mean it’s over forever.”

Dawn mulls over his words.

Goh smirks. “He’s got a point. You can come back to contests whenever you want.”

Chloe nods. “And organizing a fashion show sounds like a huge opportunity. You’d still be in the world of Pokémon, just from a different angle.”

Dawn’s fingers tighten around the contest ribbon. She glances down at the small silver charm dangling from her bracelet - a delicate flower encircled by a twisting vine, a gift from Paul on her birthday. It's a reminder of how beauty and strength can intertwine.

That morning, she’d used it as inspiration for her appeals performance: petals dancing in an elegant spiral of vines spun by Piplup’s Ice Beam and BubbleBeam. It had stunned the crowd.

She touches the charm now, smiling softly. 

Maybe . . . they’re right.

Maybe she doesn’t have to choose forever.

Just for now.

.

The night Dawn returns home from Canalave City, she decides to skip the Sandgem Town Contest - that is when she realizes that her decision has been made.

She relaxes on her living room couch, while the scent of her mother’s homemade tea fills the air, a soothing contrast to the whirlwind of emotions still buzzing in her chest. Piplup snoozes peacefully beside her, curled into the blankets, while the glow of her PokéNav screen illuminates the dimly lit room. 

She scrolls through recent contest results from other regions but finds her attention drifting. Instead, she opens her photo gallery, where several snapshots from her latest adventures with Ash, Goh, Chloe, and even Brock stare back at her.

Some are from their impromptu summer beach day before the Eterna City contest, some are from their time during the Sinnoh Festival in Canalave City.

She lingers on a picture of her and Chloe standing together, Eevee nestled in Chloe’s arms, both girls laughing.

That whole experience - helping Chloe discover the beauty of Pokémon Contests - had felt so refreshing.

Even though the Cresselia and Darkrai crisis had been chaotic, meeting Chloe, Ash, and Goh reminded Dawn of why she loved traveling, performing, and teaching others about contests. Seeing Chloe’s awe when she performed with Piplup had stirred something inside her.

Dawn swipes to another image - this one taken near the Gates of Warp, with two versions of Ash grinning side by side. Behind them, Dawn sees the Alternate World Dawn lovingly pet her mother’s Buneary, whom Dawn had brought on her travels at the time.

That whole experience had been wild .

Traveling between alternate dimensions, encountering another version of herself, seeing another Dawn in another world - it had all been overwhelming, but it also made her grateful for where she was now.

That other Dawn still had her passion for competitive battling intact. There had been no wavering, no questioning, no uncertainty about where her future lay.

She had envied that confidence.

"You’ve been staring at that thing for a while now. What’s on your mind?"

Dawn glances up, blinking as if she forgets where she is for a moment.

Johanna sits across from her, sipping from her favorite porcelain cup, watching her daughter carefully.

"Oh, just . . . looking through pictures from Eterna City." She turns the PokéNav toward her mother, showing a snapshot of her, Chloe, and Goh posing outside the contest hall, Piplup and Eevee standing proudly beside them. "It was fun - Chloe was really interested in contests, so I showed her how they work."

Johanna leans in, smiling. "That’s wonderful. You’ve always had a knack for guiding others."

Dawn swipes to another image: her and Ash grinning after the contest, Pikachu perched on his shoulder. "It was great seeing Ash and Goh again, too. And the contest . . . well, I won."

Johanna chuckles. "That’s my girl."

But then, her laughter fades slightly as she notices something. Dawn isn’t beaming the way she usually does after a victory. There’s a light in her eyes, but it’s not the same spark of excitement she once had after a big contest win.

"You don’t sound as thrilled as I expected," Johanna says gently, setting down her teacup. "What’s on your mind?"

Dawn hesitates, her fingers tightening slightly around the device. "I don’t know, Mom," she admits. "I love contests, I really do. But lately, every time I think about my next routine . . . I just - " She sighs, setting her PokéNav down. "I keep getting all these design ideas instead."

Johanna’s expression softens. "Oh, honey," she says warmly, reaching across the table to squeeze Dawn’s hand. "That doesn’t surprise me at all. You’ve always had an eye for fashion. It’s no wonder it’s calling to you now."

Dawn glances up, surprised at how unfazed her mother is by this revelation. "Yeah, but . . . I’m supposed to be a coordinator. That’s what I’ve worked for all these years."

"And you’ve done amazing things," Johanna reassures her. "But there’s no rule saying you can’t love more than one thing."

Dawn sighs, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. "Zoey and Candice want me to help organize the fashion show in the Resort Area. But if I do it, I can’t compete in this year’s Sinnoh circuit."

For the first time, a flicker of doubt crosses Johanna’s face. She leans back slightly, considering this. "That’s . . . a big decision."

Dawn nods. "I know. And if I say yes, I won’t be able to participate in contests at all this year." She runs a hand through her hair, suddenly feeling overwhelmed all over again. "What if I make the wrong choice? What if I miss contests too much?"

Johanna lets out a thoughtful hum, watching Dawn carefully before finally speaking.

"Sweetheart, there will always be another contest circuit next year. They happen every year, just like they always have. But a chance like this? The opportunity to step into the fashion world, to make a name for yourself beyond coordinating? That’s not guaranteed to come again."

Dawn swallows, her mother’s words hitting deeper than she expects.

"But . . . what if I regret it?" she asks, her voice quiet.

Johanna’s expression turns even softer. "I think you’d regret not taking the offer more. You don’t have to have all the answers right now, sweetie. Just make sure you’re doing what makes you happy. That’s all that matters."

Dawn exhales slowly. "What makes me happy . . ."

She turns her gaze to the PokéNav again, scrolling back through the pictures. Her contest performance, her moments with Ash and Chloe, the thrill of the stage. She loves contests.

But then, her mind drifts to the hours she spends designing. How it feels effortless - how her heart races at the thought of creating something new.

She loves that too.

For the first time, she feels okay admitting that.

Johanna smiles knowingly as she watches Dawn’s expression shift. "You’ll figure it out," she says. "And no matter what you decide, I’ll be proud of you."

Dawn looks up, warmth flooding her chest at her mother’s approval. "Thanks, Mom."

Soon, her mother retires to her own room for the night, and Dawn continues to scroll through her PokéNav. Eventually, she closes her photo gallery and leans back against the throw pillow, staring at the ceiling.

She’s been thinking about this for days, ever since Zoey’s proposal back in Twinleaf Town.

And now, she knows what she has to do.

Taking a deep breath, she grabs her PokéNav and dials Zoey’s number.

It rings once. Twice.

“ Dawn ?”

Dawn grins at the sound of her friend’s voice. “Hey, Zoey. So, I’ve been thinking . . . ”  She pauses. Then, before she can overthink it, she blurts it out. 

“I want to organize the fashion show.”

Zoey’s voice is smug but pleased. “ Took you long enough .”

.

Later that night, as Dawn stares at the twinkling stars outside the Pokémon Center window, her PokéNav buzzes.

Paul.

She smirks, already expecting a blunt, one-line message.

Did you win?

Dawn rolls her eyes, thumbs quickly typing back.

Of course.

Knew it.

Normally, she would tease him for not watching the contest, but she hesitates. I made a decision. I’m organizing the fashion show.

His response is quick.

Good. You’ll figure out the rest.

A second later, her PokéNav buzzes again - but this time, it’s an incoming video call.

Dawn’s breath catches in mild surprise. Paul rarely calls unless it’s important these days, as his time in Alola has been keeping him busy.

She quickly accepts the call, and his face appears on the screen, slightly grainy but clear enough to see his usual stoic expression. A pair of sunglasses sit on top of his head, fitting for the sunny day on his side of the world.

“You actually called,” she teases, raising an eyebrow.

Paul exhales, crossing his arms. “ It sounded like something worth talking about .”

Dawn smiles, adjusting the PokéNav to sit more comfortably in her hands. “Yeah, it is.”

Paul waits, saying nothing.

“Are you taking the Gym Leader position?”

He purses his lips. “ I haven’t decided. But you have .”

She takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Taking on the fashion show means I won’t be competing in the Sinnoh Contest Circuit this year. But I’d regret letting this chance slip away.”

Paul’s expression doesn’t change, but his pause is noticeable.

“ Figures .”

Dawn gapes at him. “That’s all you have to say?”

Paul exhales. “ Dawn, you’ve spent the last month sketching dresses instead of training. You really think I didn’t see this coming ?”

Dawn huffs. “Okay, rude.”

Paul smirks slightly. “ Took you long enough to admit it .”

Dawn’s annoyance melts into a smile. “Yeah. I thought about what you said. And honestly . . . even after winning the Eterna City Contest, I still feel like my heart’s somewhere else. I’m not quitting contests forever, but for now, I need to focus on this show. It’s a huge opportunity, and I don’t want to regret passing it up.”

Paul studies her for a moment. Then, with a slow nod, he leans back against what Dawn assumes is a Pokémon Center wall. “ It’s the right call. You’ll make it work .”

Dawn blinks, surprised. “You really think so?”

Paul shrugs, pushing back strands of hair that have strayed due to the island breeze. “ Would I say it if I didn’t? And like you told me, this could be a different kind of challenge, but that doesn’t mean you’re giving up. ”

Her heart flutters unexpectedly at the same words she told him recently. 

And for some reason, that means more than she anticipated.

She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, feeling a bit sheepish yet warmed. “Thanks, Paul. I needed that”

A comfortable silence settles between them.

Then Paul smirks faintly. “ At least now I don’t have to watch you struggle through a contest you don’t want to be in .”

Dawn gasps dramatically. “Excuse me? I would have still crushed the competition and won the Sandgem Contest ribbon and the rest of this year’s circuit!”

“ Sure ,” Paul says, deadpan, but there’s a teasing glint in his eyes.

Dawn narrows her eyes at him. “You’re the worst.”

Paul shrugs. “ That’s what I’m here for .”

She shakes her head. “Since when did you become so wise?”

“ Someone has to be ,” Paul deadpans.

And that makes her chuckle.

He watches her for a moment before sighing. “Y ou should get some rest. Sounds like you’re going to need it .”

Dawn smiles, her heart lighter than it’s been in weeks.

“Yeah. I guess I should.”

Paul nods, about to hang up, but before he does, Dawn quickly blurts out, “Hey, Paul?”

He raises an eyebrow. “ What ?”

She grins playfully. “If I’m skipping the contest circuit to pursue fashion this year, does that mean you’re finally going to let me design you an outfit without complaining?”

Paul immediately scowls. “ Absolutely not .”

Dawn bursts into laughter, and before Paul can hang up in pure disgust, she quickly says, “Goodnight, Paul.”

Paul grumbles something under his breath, but Dawn catches it just before the call disconnects.

“. . . Goodnight .”

The screen goes dark.

Dawn clutches the PokéNav to her chest, a small smile lingering on her lips.

She made the right decision.

And for the first time in a long time, she has no doubt about it.

Chapter Text

Ash steps into the Pokémon Center, scanning the room until he spots Paul sitting by the window, arms crossed, staring at the evening sky like he’s analyzing a battlefield. Some things never change.

“Hey, Paul!” Ash calls out as he walks over.

Paul glances at him and gives a small nod. “Ash.”

Ash slides into the seat across from him. “So, I heard something interesting . . . You got offered the Viridian Gym Leader position, right?”

Paul’s expression doesn’t shift much, but his gaze sharpens. “News travels fast.” Ash must have ran into Professor Oak after their battle earlier today.

“It’s not surprising. You’re a powerful, reputable trainer,” Ash says with a grin. “Are you gonna take it?”

Paul doesn’t answer immediately. “Still thinking about it. Staying in one place doesn’t really suit me.”

Ash leans forward, resting his arms on the table. “Yeah, but it’s not just about staying put. It’s about building something. Kinda like what Dawn’s thinking about doing, huh? You remember her, right?”

Paul pauses for a beat, then nods. “She’s been talking about stepping back from contests. Says it’s temporary while she focuses on the fashion side . . . But I’m not sure she’ll want to go back.”

Before Ash - now confused at Paul’s knowledge of Dawn’s existence, let alone current plan - can comment, Paul’s Holocaster buzzes on the table. He picks it up, glances at the caller ID, then mutters, “Give me a second,” as he stands and steps away.

Ash watches from a distance as Paul accepts the call.

Dawn’s voice bursts through, bright and full of energy. “Paul, Paul! I wrapped filming the Sinnoh Now feature for the fashion competition!”

Paul lifts an eyebrow. “Already? Didn’t you film the commercial only last week?” That was the last time they had talked. Their calls had become infrequent since she took on the job of organizing the fashion show over two months ago.

“Mmhm. Hermione’s team fast-tracked it - the commercial is airing tomorrow with the Sinnoh Now teaser for the segment on me!”

Paul nods. “You looked exhausted last time we talked. At least now I know why.”

Dawn chuckles, squinting. As she walks, the bright, Resort Area sun shines in the background. “Yeah, we’ve been working really hard to get the commercial and segment up. Steven Stone was nice enough to let us film at his villa here. Oh, and Piplup and Lopunny looked amazing in the outfits I made! You should’ve seen them.” She glances behind her. “Lopunny’s still preening.”

Paul nods once. “You sound proud.”

“I am!” she says, bouncing with energy. “Lopunny and I did a synchronized spin-and-walk thing while Piplup twirled through a glitter burst. It was so good. Hermione loved it.”

Paul raises an eyebrow. Not that he knows anything about the fashion show scene, but this oddly sounds similar to a contest. He wonders if that’s all Dawn’s influence. “So the event is real now.”

“It’s very real,” Dawn confirms. “The Sinnoh Now feature will be airing in two weeks!”

Paul tilts his head. “Nice. Big deal.”

“It is.” She beams. “You’ll watch, right?”

“Depends if the Wi-Fi holds up.” 

She smiles and moves to fix her hoodie - a gray zip-up, oversized and slightly faded. Worn in reverse, it drapes over the front of her body and shoulders like a blanket.

Paul’s eyes narrow.

“ . . . Is that mine?”

Dawn stops walking. “No?” she says far too quickly.

“You’re wearing my hoodie.”

“No, this is . . . similar. Very generic trainer fashion. Could belong to anyone.”

“Reggie had my name stitched inside.”

She looks down, then quickly tucks the hood in and smiles innocently, before continuing her stroll. “Weird coincidence.”

Paul sighs. “You’re unbelievable.”

“That’s what you get for offering your room to me.”

“I offered you a room in my house to save you commuting time to the Resort Area,” he counters. “But you took my room.”

“You won’t have to worry for long. We’re going to take down the set we had up for the commercial here, and then continue our planning in Hearthome City for the next few months.”

Paul frowns. “Keep my room, but don’t leave. Veilstone is not far from Hearthome at all. That’s  still too far of a commute from Twinleaf Town.”

Dawn laughs, about to tease him - and just then, something dark - like a bush of jet black hair - flickers past behind Paul.

She squints. “Wait . . . was that . . .?”

A familiar yellow blur leaps into frame and onto Paul’s shoulder, who does not even flinch.

“Pikachu!” Dawn gasps, eyes sparkling.

Piplup joins her from the side of the screen, chirping loudly. Lopunny leans into the frame curiously. “Punny!” she cries happily, upon recognizing the Pikachu.

Pikachu blushes. “Pika, pi.”

Paul smirks. “So, I found Ash,” he says, as Ash comes forward to the camera. 

“Who ya talkin' to, Paul - oh, hey, it’s Dawn!” 

Dawn lights up. “Ash!” 

Piplup waves wildly. 

Ash waves back. “Piplup! And whoa  -  Buneary evolved?”

“Yeah, for a while now! Lopunny’s been amazing in both contest practice and fashion work,” she says proudly.

“So, you did take up the fashion contest offer? That’s great, Dawn!”

“Yes, the commercial is airing tomorrow on Sinnoh Now - you guys have to watch it!” she says excitedly. “How is your research going with Professor Cerise?”

Ash grins. “Will do! And, actually, I’ve been here in Kanto getting ready for the Masters 8 Tournament.”

“Oh, yeah, the Masters 8! That’s amazing, Ash . . . wait, Kanto?” Dawn suddenly shrieks. “Paul, I thought you were in Alola!” 

Paul shrugs. “Just a pit stop to see Professor Oak. And it’s a good thing I’m here. Ash was hopeless without our battle.” Though his voice drips with sarcasm, he smirks at Ash, who chuckles good-naturedly.

“Man, Paul, it’s just like old times. All we need is Brock and you cheering me on, Dawn!”

Dawn giggles and unthinkingly says, “But that’s not fair! It’s hard to cheer for both sides, and I can’t choose one!” 

Ash’s happy look dissolves into confusion. “Huh, hang on just a sec. You’d want to cheer for Paul, too?” He scratches his head. “Come to think of it, you guys were just talkin’ to each other before I showed up. And Paul, you mentioned Dawn’s fashion competition before. I didn’t know you guys were friends.” 

Paul and Dawn eye each other on their screens. ‘Friends’ was probably not the best fitting word here. 

Dawn gives a nervous chuckle. “Um, we did travel together for a while, so I cheered for him when he had battles, too.” 

“Whoa, no kidding! He used to get on your nerves, Dawn!” 

Paul bites his lip to hide his smile.

Dawn sweatdrops. “Oh, trust me, he still does,” she mutters darkly, recalling the recent time he showed up at her doorstep and called her a mess. 

Paul rolls his eyes. “Oh, no need to be so dramatic, troublesome." 

She fumes at him, the flames from the “mess” incident already licking at her. “What was that?!” Her voice is deadly, making Lopunny, Piplup, and Ash cower in fear. 

Ash laughs nervously. “Wow. Some things never change.”

The conversation continues for a few more minutes, Goh eventually joining in from behind with a chip bag in hand. After goodbyes, Dawn signs off to get some rest.

Paul is about to put his Holocauster away when it buzzes again - this time, a message.

You looked happy in that call.

Paul reads it, then responds after a moment.

You talk too much.

But he smiles just slightly before the display fades to black.

.

The morning sun beats down over the Battle Ranch behind Professor Oak’s lab. The air is warm, buzzing with energy as Pokémon train, battle, and rest across the sprawling grounds. Paul stands off to the side of the practice field, arms crossed, silently observing.

Ash is front and center, calling commands with sharp focus.

“Quick Attack into Meteor Mash!”

Lucario leaps forward in a blur, his fist glowing silver as it slams into the training dummy with a solid impact. A small cheer rises from a few nearby Pokémon.

Paul doesn’t clap.

He watches in silence, analyzing.

He knows Ash’s battling style by now - adaptive, impulsive, intuitive. The complete opposite of his own. Yet, somehow, Ash always makes it work.

“Still watching instead of battling?” Ash calls out, wiping sweat off his brow. “That’s not like you.”

Paul rolls his eyes. “Still loud instead of listening? That’s exactly like you.”

Ash grins, undeterred. “Come on. Let’s see if you’re still in shape.”

The two set up a practice match. Ash uses Infernape - fitting, and maybe even symbolic - and Paul sends out Electivire, lightning crackling at his sides.

The two trainers face off, just like old times. Paul doesn’t hold back - but this time, it’s different. Paul isn’t here to defeat Ash. He’s here to test. To train. To sharpen Ash into someone worthy of standing on a Masters 8 stage.

As their Pokémon clash across the field, Paul finds himself slipping into a rhythm he hadn’t felt in a while - strategizing not for victory, but for improvement. It’s strangely satisfying. And when Infernape and Electivire lock eyes again, the fire that once burned between them is still there - but tempered, focused. 

Each move, each counter, each shift in tempo - it all serves a purpose. He never thought training someone else could be satisfying, but here he is.

He wonders - not for the first time - if becoming a Gym Leader would really be such a detour from his goal. He did say once that he would take the opportunity if it was ever offered to him - oddly enough, it has been manifested, but he is still in doubt.

The battle is intense, fast-paced, and tight. Electivire dodges and strikes with mechanical precision, while Infernape relies on instinct and fire-infused passion. Their synergy is a sight to behold.

And yet, something’s off.

Infernape doesn’t make eye contact with Paul.

He doesn’t snarl like he used to, doesn’t crackle with defiant heat. He just fights - and it’s just that. A fight. No challenge. No spark.

Paul notices.

Even yesterday, Infernape kept his distance all afternoon, still as fierce and focused as ever. But Paul could sense the shift - the hesitation in his movements, the way his gaze lingered longer than usual. 

Was it guilt? That one moment back in Kanto when Infernape had rushed to embrace him - something Paul had never forgotten. The burn had faded, but not the memory. He hadn’t minded. He still doesn’t. Is it possible that Infernape realized his accident?

As Electivire lands a blow and Ash recalls Infernape, Paul lingers.

He exhales softly, fingers curling slightly at his side. He’d felt the heat through his sleeve but never said a word. Paul wouldn’t blame Infernape. The burn was an accident.

But for the way he treated Chimchar all those years ago?

That wasn’t.

If Infernape is keeping his distance now, Paul understands. He’s earned it.

Still, the distance between them stings. Just a little.

While Electivire cools down, Paul leans against a tree, wiping sweat from his brow.

“I don’t get it,” Ash says, plopping down next to him. “You’re even more intense as a coach than a rival.”

“I don’t have time to waste,” Paul replies flatly, but there’s a trace of amusement in his tone.

Ash grins. “Still, thanks. This is helping a lot. You’ll make a great gym leader.”

Paul grunts in acknowledgment. His gaze drifts back to Infernape, who is watching Electivire quietly, contemplatively.

Paul doesn’t say anything. He just nods once - silent permission. 

Infernape hesitates, then steps forward to spar again.

“I think he still feels bad,” Ash says quietly beside him.

Paul’s eyes flick to Ash. “What?”

“Infernape,” Ash clarifies. “I think he knows he burned you.”

Paul shifts uncomfortably, almost annoyed. “Did Dawn tell you that?”

“Uh, no, Tracey saw your burn that day.”

A sudden wave of guilt washes over Paul. Dawn had not outed him. But stronger than the guilt, something else takes over. As he continues to watch the Fire-type Pokémon across the field, a hint of regret forms in his chest.

“A burn’s the least I deserve.”

Ash’s voice softens. “No, Paul. He still respects you. Even after everything.”

Paul doesn’t answer. But something in his chest feels a little lighter.

At that moment, Goh jogs over from the lab, waving. “Looks like Ash has been getting the elite training treatment.”

Professor Oak follows behind, smiling broadly. “It’s been a bit since I’ve really seen this field so alive.” He turns to Paul. “Any closer to a decision? About the Viridian Gym?”

Paul straightens slightly, face unreadable. “Not yet.”

Oak nods, but there’s a weight to his words. “Take your time. But know this - we want someone who challenges young trainers to grow. Someone who makes them stronger. You’ve done that, Paul. You’d be good for this.”

Goh grins. “Yeah. You’ve got that ‘scary mentor’ thing down.”

Paul doesn’t respond. Not with words. But his gaze returns to Infernape and Electivire - sparring again, slower this time. Controlled. Focused.

He watches them quietly.

Maybe being a Gym Leader isn’t such a detour after all.

.

Later that afternoon, the group is gathered around the holo-screen of Professor Oak’s cozy loft apartment, empty cups of tea, plates of half-eaten sandwiches, and opened bags of chips spread across the table, all courtesy of Delia. 

On screen, Dawn appears with Piplup and Lopunny on a runway - elegant, confident, and utterly in sync.

Like Dawn recounted to Paul, she and Lopunny do a synchronized spin-and-walk, and Piplup twirls through a burst of glitter. The music pulses - bright, stylish, full of energy. Quick cuts follow: Pokémon in dazzling accessories, flashes from previous fashion shows, glowing crowd reactions.

Dawn’s voice overlays the montage with polished enthusiasm:

“The Sinnoh Fashion Fest is your chance to shine - whether you’re a seasoned stylist or a new visionary. Let your Pokémon sparkle with you!”

“Bring your passion, your vision, your Pokémon. Join us at the Sinnoh Resort Area for the ultimate fashion showdown next spring!”

“And don’t miss the Sinnoh Now exclusive on September 12th, 7PM - featuring a special fashion segment with yours truly!”

The ad ends with Dawn smiling at the camera, confident and glowing.

“See you there!”

Ash lets out a low whistle. “Wow! That was awesome.”

Goh nods. “She really nailed the vibe. It actually made me want to go.”

Professor Oak chuckles. “She’s always had a good sense of presentation - very polished.”

Delia smiles warmly from her armchair. “And she looked beautiful. I hope her mom’s seen this.”

Everyone turns toward Paul.

He doesn’t say anything at first, eyes still on the now-dark screen. Then, quietly, he says, “It was good. She did great.”

One of his rare, genuine smiles flickers across his face. Small. Barely there. But real.

Ash sees it and grins. “You’re gonna call her, huh?”

Paul shoots him a dirty look. “Mind your business.”

Ash laughs, unbothered. “That’s not a no.”

.

Meanwhile, across the sea in Sinnoh, Dawn clutches a clipboard in one hand and a Poképuff in the other, directing the removal of runway lights in the Resort Area’s open-air plaza.

“Left! No, no - your left!” she calls, as Candice waves from atop a ladder, and Zoey takes down the stage border.

Hermione watches the scene with a smile. “You’ve really taken charge,” she says, passing Dawn a reference sketch of the original setup for the commercial. “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Only in my dreams,” Dawn jokes, flipping to a new page on her clipboard, and clipping the sketch in. “But this . . . feels right.”

She hasn’t regretted stepping away from this season’s contest circuit. Not even once. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t miss it - especially as she catches glimpses of her ribbon case on the nightstand back in Paul’s room each night.

“You’re nailing it, Dawn,” Candice cheers, as she slides down the ladder, a string of bulky lights under her arm.

“Let’s hope Sinnoh Now thinks so too,” Dawn says, half-joking. “The segment is scheduled to air in two weeks. The set’s being taken down. Submissions, selections, fittings, practice runs, proper runway and seating placements . . . Everything's going to hit so quickly. These few months are going to fly by.”

Suddenly, she feels the buzz of her PokéNav Plus nestled in her cardigan pocket.

“Excuse me for a minute, Candice.” She steps away and into the backstage area, fishing her PokéNav out of her pocket.

Dawn’s eyes light up the moment Paul’s face appears on screen.

“Hey.” Paul gives a small nod. “The commercial was good.”

Dawn beams. “You saw it?! Already?” She does a quick calculation in her head. It’s already late afternoon in Kanto.

“Professor Oak showed it to us. He’s oddly invested.”

As he speaks, his eyes wander to the background, and Dawn realizes he must be examining her makeshift, temporary office - stacks of colorful fabric piled on a chair, sketches taped to the wall, and Piplup snoozing on the desk beside a very fashion-forward Gardevoir draped in a cape with matching bangles.

Dawn beams. “The commercial just aired and I’ve already got designs from over twenty trainers. It’s happening, Paul.”

Before he can respond, Ash pushes his way into the frame, grinning wide.

“Hey, congrats, Dawn!” he says, practically shoving Paul out of view. “That commercial was awesome!”

Paul scowls, half-shoved offscreen.

Goh leans into the call, waving. “Dawn! Your coordinating journey really inspired Chloe - I think this fashion contest will do the same for a lot of people!”

“Aww, thanks, you guys!”

Ash nods enthusiastically. “Man, I was on the edge of my seat during that last part with you three!”

Paul rolls his eyes. “Thank Arceus it was only a minute long. Any longer and Ash would've exploded.”

“Hey, c’mon!” Ash protests. “I’m just enthusiastic!”

Paul sighs, but there’s no real edge to it.

Dawn laughs, the sound bubbling and bright as the screen fills with overlapping voices - Ash, Goh, Paul, all talking at once. It’s chaotic, loud, familiar.

Eventually, the call settles, and Dawn yawns, stretching as she leans back. Admittedly, waking up early in the mornings has been the most painstaking part of this whole thing.

“Alright, I should get going . . . we’ve got to review submissions, and then I get to eat lunch!”

“Wait,” Paul says, just before she can end the call. “Check your messages before you go to bed.”

She tilts her head. “Why?”

“You’ll see.”

The call ends.

Curious, Dawn opens her messages and taps the file.

It’s a photo.

Paul stands on the beach beside Ash and Goh, surely taking in the last of summer. Infernape, Electivire, and Pikachu are in the background, playfully sparring in the sand. The light catches Paul just right - sunlight casting warm shadows across his face, the ocean breeze tousling his hair, his posture relaxed.

And for the first time, Dawn sees it.

He’s not just her grumpy traveling companion anymore.

He’s changed. He truly does look happy.

Her cheeks flush, but a soft smile creeps across her face.

Chapter Text

Dawn walks down the cobbled side street just off Amity Square. Behind her, Candice and Hermione chat animatedly about Zoey helping coordinate the stage design remotely from Snowpoint.

Lopunny helps carry fabric bolts while Piplup bickers with a production assistant over flower arrangements. Dawn just smiles.

“Three months ago, I was sketching contest dresses in my backyard,” she mutters, grinning as she looks down at her binder - stuffed with sketches, fabric samples, audition sheets, floor plans, and lighting cues. “Now I’m leading production meetings for a Resort Area fashion show.”

It’s overwhelming and exhilarating all at once.

“If everything stays on track, we might even get to take this further than regional,” Hermione says, glancing Dawn’s way as they approach Lila’s boutique, nestled between a florist and a hatmaker.

“Further than regional?” Dawn asks, only half-paying attention as she flips through a fabric chart.

“Pokétopia. Same production team. They’re planning another fashion special next year and asked if you’d lead it.”

Dawn pauses mid-step.

“Me?”

“Why not you?” Hermione shrugs. “You’re the name they’re pushing. You’re the reason this show’s happening.”

Dawn opens her mouth, then closes it again. Pokétopia. A floating stage in the middle of the ocean. Fashion. Lights. Performance. Surrounded by structures designed by Paul’s own mother. 

And Dawn would know perfectly how to organize the show and craft designs that would pay homage to the architecture.

The offer should thrill her - but it lands like a stone in her chest.

“I’ll think about it,” she says after a moment, voice light.

“You always say that before saying yes,” Candice teases.

They continue walking, weaving around racks of fabric and floral centerpieces outside the boutique. As they round the last corner, Dawn slows. A familiar figure stands just outside Lila’s door - polished and composed, arms folded loosely across his chest.

Steven Stone.

“I’ll catch up with you guys,” Dawn says quickly.

Hermione gives her a look but nods and heads inside with Candice, the two of them already deep in conversation again.

Steven offers a quiet smile as she approaches.

“Dawn.”

She returns his greeting, binder still tucked under one arm. “Thanks for letting the Sinnoh Now team and I film at your villa last week. I wasn’t sure you’d say yes.”

Steven tilts his head, amused. “Of course - I can never say no to a request from Cynthia.” He says it with a smirk, like he’s enjoying a private joke. 

“Well, thank you again. You have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you. I hear you’ve traded ribbons for runways,” he says lightly.

“Only temporarily,” Dawn replies quickly. That was part of the reason she hadn’t reached out to ask herself.

“Is it?” he asks, arching a brow.

She glances down at her file. “That’s what I keep telling myself.”

Steven studies her for a moment, then looks past her toward the boutique window, where sketches are pinned in rows and a dress form glitters in contest-blue sequins.

“You always struck me as someone who thrived under pressure - but never without purpose.”

Dawn looks up.

“I was hoping to see your Mega Evolution work come to life this year,” he adds. “You’d made real progress, hadn’t you?”

“I had started with Lopunny,” she says. “But the show took priority. I’ve had to pause everything else.”

“A shame,” Steven says, though his tone is gentle, not dismissive. “You were on the edge of something great.”

“I still want to do it,” she says softly - almost surprising herself.

His smile is quiet, knowing. “Good. I hope when this is over, you go back to it. I’m sure the contest stage misses you.”

She watches him go, the tailored hem of his coat disappearing down the path toward the city gates. For a long moment, she doesn’t move.

The sound of her name being called from inside the boutique jolts her back.

She turns, walking toward the door, binder clutched tightly in her hand.

She still wants it. The stage. The ribbons. The evolution - not just of Pokémon, but of herself.

But wanting something doesn’t always mean knowing where it fits.

Inside the boutique, she steps aside again to take a call - this time, she speaks with Sinnoh Now’s production team. Her interview is scheduled to air the following week.

As she hangs up, a flutter of nerves rises in her chest. It’s all becoming real.

It’s happening. Her sketches, her designs, her voice - front and center. She should feel proud. She does, mostly. But under the thrill, something else hums - quiet, unspoken: a question.

What does this mean for coordinating? For the dreams that used to feel so certain - ribbons and routines, not runways and interviews? She hasn’t given it up. She’s just . . . paused. That’s what she keeps telling herself.

But what if it isn’t a pause? What if she’s drifting?

She presses a hand against the binder, grounding herself. No decisions today. Just one sketch at a time. One step at a time.

.

Later that night, Dawn finds herself curled up on the living room couch with Maylene. Reggie’s away visiting Brandon in Kanto, and the apartment feels emptier without him.

The conversation shifts from contest circuits to training schedules, from poffin recipes to Pokémon League politics. Eventually, it drifts to the people they love.

“So,” Maylene sings suggestively, “Paul will be back in a week.”

Dawn pouts. “Meanwhile, I’ll be headed off to Galar with Chloe.”

“Oh yeah, for the Masters 8 Tournament. Ash is fighting Leon, right?”

“Yeah. That’s the plan. And then I come back the following week, same as Reggie.” She stares at her mug, as a thought occurs to her along the lines of Pokémon Masters. “Hey . . . Paul has been ignoring the whole Brandon situation since we got back from Kalos.”

Maylene rests her chin in her palm. “He’s not good at talking about things. You probably know that better than anyone.”

“I just . . . I want to help. But he doesn’t let people in. Not really.”

Maylene is quiet for a moment, then says, “Brandon and Calla messed him up more than he’ll admit. Same with Reggie, honestly. He acts like he’s made peace with it, but I can tell. Some days are harder than others.”

Dawn looks up at her. “And you?”

Maylene smiles softly. “I knew what I was getting into when I fell in love with Reggie. I love all of him - including the parts still trying to heal.”

She nods, her throat tight.

“You’re good for Paul,” Maylene adds after a beat. “He’s just . . . stubborn. But he trusts you. More than most.”

Dawn swallows. “I think I’m in love with him.”

Maylene nudges her gently. “Think?” she teases.

She laughs quietly. “Okay. Fine. I know I am.”

.

The stadium erupts.

Fireworks crackle over Wyndon like stars, painting the sky in gold, violet, and electric blue. The cheers of tens of thousands echo in waves, rising to meet the moment the world had been waiting for.

Ash Ketchum has won.

The screen flashes his name in glowing letters: World Champion.

He’s done it. He’s won everything.

He did it. Her friend, her rival, the boy who once traveled throughout Sinnoh by her side, has reached the peak.

And for a long second, Dawn just watches him - her smile wide, but her chest tight with something she doesn’t fully understand.

She claps, her hands trembling slightly as the energy of the crowd surges through her. Chloe shrieks beside her, grabbing her wrist in excitement. Down on the battlefield, Pikachu - Ash’s partner through it all - collapses to the ground with a tired smile.

And the world holds its breath.

Pikachu is rushed to the Pokémon Center. The stadium begins to empty, but the celebration stalls. The ceremony can’t begin without him. Without both of them.

Dawn paces the lounge of the Center with Chloe, her heart stuck somewhere between awe and worry. Through the glass window, she sees Ash, sitting by Pikachu, who is still resting. Stable. Still sleeping.

Dawn presses a hand to her chest and exhales slowly. He did it. But no one can call it a victory until they see that little spark again.

.

The official celebration begins hours later, once Pikachu awakens, and the world can breathe again.

The Rose of the Rondelands Hotel ballroom is packed wall to wall - Trainers, Champions, League officials, reporters, and familiar faces from every region. Music thumps beneath their feet, confetti falls from the ceiling, and champagne glasses clink.

Everyone wants a photo with Ash.

Dawn stands just off-center, watching Ash pose with a now-recovered Pikachu, Chloe, and a rotating lineup of Gym Leaders and rivals. On the side, Raihan jokingly tries to take Leon’s cape, saying he’ll claim it for himself when he finally beats him. Cynthia stands nearby, elegant and quiet, her expression unreadable.

Ash makes his way to Dawn eventually, still grinning.

“We did it, huh?” he says, eyes bright.

Dawn laughs. “You did it, Ash. World Champion.”

“You’ve come pretty far yourself,” he says, bumping her shoulder. “The fashion show’s gonna be huge.”

She smiles, but her eyes drift upward to the lingering trails of fireworks outside. She finds herself thinking not of the fashion show or the edits waiting on her sketches - but of what it must feel like to be standing where Ash is now. 

Later, in the quieter lounge just beyond the main ballroom, the post-match interviews play softly on a dozen screens. Ash is still bouncing from one person to the next - radiant, exhausted, unstoppable.

Chloe and Dawn sit curled on a velvet couch, sipping juice and tea from fancy glasses, surrounded by plates from the buffet.

“Did you cry?” Chloe teases.

“No,” Dawn says. Then, after a pause: “Almost.”

Chloe nudges her knee with a grin. “He really did it.”

Dawn nods, watching Ash from across the room. Something swells in her chest - pride, admiration, maybe even envy, though not the kind that stings.

Cynthia walks by a moment later, giving Ash a quiet smile and a single nod. As she turns to leave, Dawn catches the tail end of what she says to him -

“The new era belongs to you all now.”

Ash doesn’t say anything in return. He just watches her go.

.

The next morning, her PokéNav Plus won’t stop buzzing.

At first, she assumes it’s Hermione again. Or coverage from last night’s victory.

Then her screen lights up with a name she doesn’t expect.

BREAKING NEWS: Explosion at Ilex Forest Kiln — Pyramid King Brandon Critically Injured

Dawn’s blood runs cold.

The article floods her vision - fragments leaping out at her faster than she can focus.

Frontier Brain Brandon. Explosion. Ilex Forest. No witnesses. Airlifted. Critical condition.

She throws the blanket off and stumbles out of bed, hair a mess, breath catching in her throat as she dials the only number she can think of.

Paul.

It rings once. Twice. Straight to voicemail.

She tries again. No answer.

A third time. Still nothing.

She grips her phone tightly, the tremble in her hands getting worse.

“Come on, Paul,” she whispers. “Pick up . . .”

Again. Straight to voicemail.

“Paul, it’s Dawn. I just saw the news. Please call me. Please.”

She stares at the call log, hands trembling. Another ping lights up her screen: Hermione.

“Dawn,” Hermione says, flustered and apologetic. “We’re going to have to postpone the Sinnoh Now feature. I’m sorry - it’s just, the Brandon coverage is dominating everything beyond the Masters 8 Tournament. You understand, right?”

Dawn doesn’t respond.

“Dawn?”

“Yes, of course,” she says quietly. “I understand.”

She ends the call and tries Paul again. Still nothing.

Panic rising, she calls the only person she can think of.

Reggie answers with a tired voice.

“Dawn?”

“I can’t get through to Paul,” she says immediately. “Is Brandon - ?”

“He’s alive,” Reggie confirms, voice hoarse. “But yeah. It’s bad.”

“What happened?”

Reggie hesitates. “He was at the old kiln house in Ilex Forest. No one really knows why, but . . . I think he . . .” He stops, as if he has revealed too much already.

“And Paul?”

“He’s coming to Kanto. He’s already on a flight.”

Dawn exhales shakily, her grip on the PokéNav loosening. “Thank you, Reggie.”

“He’ll call,” Reggie promises. “He just has to process things in his own way.”

.

That night, the world feels heavier.

Ash is swept into a whirl of interviews and League events, and Chloe heads out for dinner. Dawn stays behind in the hotel room, curled up on the couch with the news still playing in the background.

They’re showing drone footage of Ilex Forest now - burned edges, collapsed timbers, flashing emergency lights.

The words FRONTIER BRAIN and PYRAMID KING scroll across the screen in red. They’ve looped the headline a dozen times. A circus of speculation is already underway.

Her phone buzzes again.

Incoming Call: Paul

She answers in an instant.

“I landed,” he says. “I’m heading to the hospital now.”

“I was so worried,” she says softly. “I tried calling you - ”

“I sent a message before I left for the airport,” Paul replies quietly. “I thought you might have been ignoring it.”

“You did?” Dawn says in surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry. I would never ignore a message from you. I just haven’t seen it yet.” She feels foolish for not checking.

There’s a long pause.

“Is he going to make it?” she asks.

Paul’s voice tightens. “They don’t know yet.”

“Why was he even there? . . . Reggie seems to have a hunch.”

Paul pauses before answering. “He was trying to fix things. Things that can’t be fixed.”

Her breath catches as understanding hits her. “No way . . . do you think he really believed he could - ?”

Paul doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to.

There’s a weight on his shoulders that even his silence can’t hide.

“I can come to Kanto,” she says quickly. “Book a flight tonight - ”

“No. Stay in Galar. Ash is getting swarmed by the media. He’ll need someone around who gets it.”

“But what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

She doesn’t believe him. But she doesn’t press.

“I have to go. I need to see him,” he says, and she hears shuffling in the background.

“Okay,” she says quietly. “Take care, Paul.”

The call ends, and Dawn scrolls to look through her messages - another message from Hermione about rescheduling the Sinnoh Now feature, finding a camera crew, and a makeup artist. Everything’s waiting for her in Sinnoh. She goes through the rest of her unread texts, saving Paul’s for the end.

She stares at the screen, her hands still wrapped around the PokéNav.

Outside, the lights of Wyndon shimmer in the window glass.

She doesn’t move for a long time.

“Oh, Paul,” she sighs to herself.

Then, slowly, she sets the device aside, gets up, and walks over to the window, pulling the curtain aside. The city lights blur through the glass. Somewhere below, Ash is indeed probably being swarmed by reporters. 

Her friends are moving forward. Her show is two weeks away.

But her heart is elsewhere.

She moves to clear the table nearby. Sketches. Fabric samples. Notes.

Piplup stirs gently on the bed, but doesn’t wake.

She picks up her PokéNav Plus again and opens the travel app to change her itinerary.