Archive of Our Own

“And next up for the Ten Top PokeVisions is…”

Serena shifted a little, causing Fennekin to sleepily yawn and stretch out her paws. It was night, and she was sitting outside while everyone else was getting ready for bed. It was a long road back to Lumiose City and there was still so much to do. So much to get ready for. In a few days the competition was going to happen, and she didn’t even know where to start herself. 

Well, maybe that was a little bit of an overexaggeration. She’s read over the guidelines a hundred times by now, poured over the words and the welcoming video. She knew what she had to make. What to do.

“And of course, for first place, it’s Aria and her latest video, ‘Star Bright Is Our Bond!’”

Fennekin yipped in recognition as she watched the tiny image of another Fennekin on screen, prancing around and lighting up the area as the young version of the teen idol danced upon a stage. Serena smiled a little to herself: going back through her PokéVision watching history was a nostalgic ride that was brightened up by the presence of her Starter beside her. Remembering what she liked so much about the platform, about the joy and fun everyone seemed to have…

Tomorrow was a new day and a new chance at a dream. Serena was going to take full advantage of it and make it her own, in whatever way she could, just as long as she kept to one little rule.

The Ember attack burst on-camera, tiny sparkles lighting up the sky like veritable stars as Aria wrapped up her dance routine. This was in the earlier days, years ago— this was when a teen idol was just a teen influencer, or maybe just a girl finding her own path with her own Pokémon. And her whole life started with PokéVision, so that means it could be a possible avenue for Serena as well.

Just as long as she did one small thing.

“Stay bright, everyone!” the young Aria grinned, and that was a sun in and of itself.

( ‘Keep watching? > Yes / No’ )

It took some walking, but finally, the Pokémon Centre they were looking for was within reach.

“So, you’re saying that all the cameras are all there? And we can make movies with them?” Bonnie was skipping ahead, already full of energy and ready for what the day was going to bring them. 

Serena felt jittery herself, like there was an enormous pressure that she had to fulfil with this task. A PokéVision contest. Backtracking even though it was close by. Her childhood aspirations and the possibility that it could not live up to reality. The video making process in and of itself. “Yeah! It should be around here. I thought that it would be easier to try out what the Pokémon Centre had before striking out on my own…”

“So you’re just making a video?”

Clemont glanced over at Ash, who asked the question, and gave him a short nod. “Typically, PokéVision are short films created by Trainers involving their Pokémon in a variety of settings and genres. In order to make an account, though, it’s usually expected for one to make an introductory video.”

“And that’s what today is about!” Serena checked her device one more time: the information clear to see. This Pokémon Centre had a rent-out booth, and that meant she could get the equipment here for free.

Just to try it out. Just to see if making a PokéVision was as magical as watching one.

Bonnie tried to peer over Serena’s hands and the latter almost jerked at the sudden point of contact, pocketing the device and looking ahead. The younger girl blew a raspberry before thinking to herself. “Wait, so can I make a video with Dedenne then?”

Clemont shook his head. “Firstly, you’re not an official Trainer, and secondly, Dedenne isn’t registered under you.”

Ash raised his hand. “I mean, I’m not going to use my account anyways so—“

“Ash, that’s called identity fraud.”

“That’s good to know...” Serena could feel all the eyes watching them from around the Pokémon Centre as they walked in, the group's subject of choice not really helping matters much. “I’ll just get the equipment and then I’ll come back, okay?”

“Aww, but I wanted to see it!” Bonnie was giving her those pleading eyes again, and it was already hard enough if it wasn’t followed up by Ash trying to do the same thing. In the middle of a Pokémon Centre. Clemont was sighing behind them, already resigned or not affected by the social shame.

She felt a little bit of her soul exit her body. The day had just started, too. “Okay. It’s not like I own the equipment or anything.” She let herself relax and let out a long breath, trying to remember what happened last time she forced herself into something promising.

This was just a test run. Something to try out. Making her younger self happy, if only for a moment.

(After all, this isn’t hers yet. But it can be. As long as she remembered what she had to do.)

Serena found herself softening up with a small smile as she pointed the way to the renting station, leading the group across the Pokémon Centre as three figures reading a magazine from a table near the front of the building peeked over the rumpled pieces of paper, watching them depart the lodge with watchful eyes.

The woman with a large hat scoffed at what she heard, leaning back on the seat. “Pah, that Twerpette thinks that she can make cinema with some measly items? What an amateur.”

“Well, to be fair she pretty much is that, isn’t she?” The man adjusted his glasses and hunkered down. “And it’s not like you to feel so high and mighty over video-making…”

“Jimmy’s right!” The tiny man with a beanie and a mustache slammed his long sleeves on top of the table. “Some crummy film isn’t going to get us anywhere good… And besides, we’re gettin’ distracted o’er here! Aren’t we supposed’ta snatch Pikachu?”

The man patted the tinier man’s back. “There there, forget about the homeland and its very many ills and vices. There’s no drama in store for you here, old chum.”

The woman pulled her sunglasses down to glare at both of them. “Oh, get over yourselves! Trust me, the glamour of the silver screen will be more than enough to fill our pockets and cure our heartaches plenty, and we can even nab that pesky Pikachu in the process. Just follow my lead and we’ll all get what we want. Capiche?”

The other two looked up at her curiously before they went on to plan out their next course of action, soon finding themselves laughing to themselves in a way that drew eyes from those around them as their next (and now becoming usual) targets arrived at their destination.

The man at the desk blinked as he watched the group arrive, pushing away his laptop as he gave them a nod. “Hello, young Trainers. Anything I could get for you?”

“Um, hi there!” Serena cleared her throat before raising a hand, steadying her voice as she asked, “Can I get a recording kit? For a PokéVision production?” ‘Production’ ? Was that even the right word? She tried to stay calm and in control as the man turned around and rummaged around at the cupboards around him, thinking about her plan. About her introduction. About her debut on the silver screen, tiny and portable as it was.

“—Of Trainers coming in and out requesting cameras and the like, so I can’t get you the best quality for now.” She shook her head and looked over at the man, trying to remember what he said. His serious countenance broke into a more forgiving smile at the length of her presumably expected and yet still delayed reply, and so he said, “With that PokéVision Competition drawing near, there’s been a boom in rentals lately. I don’t have the best tech available for you right now, but if you want to get started now, I can lend you a more average camera instead.”

Average. Her hands shook by her side, but she returned his smile and chirped out, “Sure! Thank you so much, sir.”

He gave her a nod before he went to get said camera and Serena was happy, her trial run was within reach. A few seconds later revealed the said average camera, a small one that could easily fit within her hands. She took it gracefully, smiled and thanked the man, listened to his advice and even went to show the others the device that she got.

And it was a good start! A great one even, that she managed to get a camera free of charge and didn’t even have to edit the footage on her own afterwards, an offer given to her so freely, and that’s what kept her feet on the ground as the group made their way to the kitchen.

This is just the start, after all. What she’ll actually make with this opportunity was all up to her, in the end, and so she wasn’t going to squander even a second of it all.

(The Pokéball by her side warmed with purpose, and Serena felt herself soften slightly.

She’ll make this work, for both of them.

All she needed was confidence and a good plan.)

Serena’s been planning for this day ever since she’s heard about it.

PokéVision has been her window to a wider world, of dreams that she could only imagine herself, of people and Pokémon doing things she couldn’t fathom on her own. Whatever interests she used to go through, she would find herself going to PokéVision to see it being replicated in reality, to see proof of it working out. Something real to hold on to. An anchor, or maybe a star in the sky.

So, okay, maybe suggesting that they all go back to Lumiose City wasn’t the nicest idea she could’ve volunteered, considering her travelling partners. Serena knew that they just came from the city in the first place (after already visiting it before that separately) and Ash was running on the high of the Battle Chateau and the mysterious Gym Leader that managed to beat another in a one-on-one battle, blowing any sort of preconceived advantages out of the water with skill alone, but still. This was her chance. This could be her moment.

And maybe… this could be her path.

But first, she needed to plan for it. Hence, the agenda.

“So, Fennekin, any places you think we should visit?” Serena was tapping her chin in thought with a pen, a paper notebook opened and splayed out in front of them. The Pokémon yipped happily, putting one paw on the sheet of paper and then looking up at her. The Trainer laughed, feeling her stomach rest against the picnic blanket as her eyes involuntarily caught sight of the distant figure of Ash.

Still training, it seemed. Ever since they left the battling institute, all anyone could catch of the Kantonian was exercise and running up and down hills and unconventional strategies that would worry most people, including the people he’s travelling with. Not that it deterred Ash, of course, but still. Watching him tear through lunch before calling his Pokémon to then sprint into the distance wasn’t exactly considered normal behaviour.

She felt a small button-like nose nudge her arm and Serena blinked out of that train of thought, turning to Fennekin who then yipped at her. “I’m sorry,” she said, a reflexive action, yet the Pokémon somehow looked even more put off with the reply. Serena tried again, fixing a smile as she put pen to paper. “I’m thinking that we should do some baking, maybe. You like that, right?” She wrote it down after watching Fennekin’s small nod, tapping the other end of the pen once she finished on the book.

Baking is easy, right? It’s an activity that the two of them have started to do together, a whirl of ingredients and timing and movement. There were steps to take in order to perfect the dish, and the more practice you do the easier it gets. Maybe she could… try to make something different today. Go outside of her comfort zone. Make something that would truly wow an audience. “I’m thinking a cake for this one. We can even draw your face on it, if you want!”

“Fenne!” The fox licked the back of her palm, and Serena smiled, adding the elaborations and then starting to design what it would look like, consulting pictures from the web to gain a better picture, taking a small walk as a break and to gather some inspiration as well.

(And if Serena’s pen halted in its mark as she watched Fennekin wander off in their walk, gait becoming light and free as that dance started up once more? A small dance that her Starter has done in small pieces and in bursts of her own inspiration, ever since they first met each other, ever since their feet touched on the road outside Lumiose City together?

Well, maybe she waited outwardly and softened inwardly as she watched how Fennekin skipped about in the tall grass whenever she found some beautiful-smelling flowers, sometimes adding a low warbling sound with it. Fennekin wasn’t one to interact with others, let alone show any weakness willingly, preferring to keep to herself, but it was one of the many things that she started to do, and it was something that Serena had started to love as well, feeling the same beat in her heart. Something new. Something tentative. Something…)

Because that’s all of PokéVision, wasn’t it? A way to gain the best picture to the best life.

As it was, the kitchen in the Pokémon Centre didn’t have all the ingredients they needed.

“We’ll need more if we’re going to make the cake,” Serena murmured, standing by the open cupboard as Bonnie continued to list all the other items that the place had held (“Chocolate powder, tea bags, more sugar…”). 

Ash was already antsy within the four walls, so by the time he heard the words leave her mouth he shot up and shouted, “I’ll go out!”

She eyed him and his tapping foot. Clemont turned around after checking the top racks, letting out a small sigh. “We’ll both go,” he offered, and Bonnie tapped the ground with her feet behind her deliberately as she continued naming all the other objects inside the apparently bigger-than-expected storage unit. “All of us?” he added afterwards, giving his sister a confused look that she couldn’t see (on account of the fact that her head was still inside the cabinets).

Serena gave them a nod and a piece of paper, ripping it off and handing it to the inventor. “It doesn’t have to be exact, but these brands should be good,” she said, and Clemont nodded as Ash dashed out through the door and Bonnie reluctantly pulled herself away with Dedenne in tow, following after the teen. Serena held a small smile at the group’s antics before breathing out, turning towards the window at the other side of the kitchen.

Was this the right choice? Was it worth it to bare her heart out so brazenly to the world if she didn’t even know her own path yet? She continued to ruminate as Fennekin padded up to her, finally satisfied with checking out all the dimensions of the room around her, and headbutted the Trainer’s leg. “Fen?”

Serena startled out of her thought spiral, quickly finding herself clearing her head of all thoughts as if it would taint the very room that they were in. Giving her Starter a big bright smile, she breezily said, “Oh, hey there, Fennekin. Think this will be a good spot to record our cake-baking skills?”

If a diminutive fox could look unimpressed, Fennekin would be pulling off the look splendidly. “Kin…”

The human waved her hand around for a few seconds too long in an effort to dispel worry before snatching up the Starter with her own hands. Fennekin wriggled in her grasp before jumping onto the table top, turning around before facing Serena with a stern look. Serena didn’t want to disappoint her or exclude her, but on the other hand, she couldn’t get too attached to PokéVision. 

Not yet. Not until she knew it was right.

So instead of addressing the huge unmitigated swirl of emotions in between them, thick and heavy, she blurted out, “Hey, we should check up on the others!”

Fennekin yipped in confusion. Serena held a very big, bright, and totally not worried smile as she stretched and pointed forwards. “Yeah! And then we can find out some other activities to do while we get there. What do you think?”

Fennekin looked around the room before bowing her head, moving over to Serena and lifting her front paws up. An agreement if anything, even if it was reluctant.

(Serena will take it though. Confidence is never hesitating, and a plan is set in stone, and even if PokeVision wasn’t certain their bond will always be.)

Just as quickly the two of them whisked themselves out of the kitchen, out of the tight (but it also felt so right) space they were previously confined in and out of the Pokémon Centre proper, the warm day embracing them. Serena felt the smile genuinely settle into her face as her eyes caught onto everything around them— two Trainers talking with their partners beside them, a kid chasing a Butterfree. People and Pokémon chasing their dreams together. Yes, just like they were. 

It was okay. 

Everything will be okay.

This was the right choice. 

Walking outside, breathing it all in, all of that will lend her some clarity. Some space as well.

Serena continued to walk forward, deeper into the city, Fennekin (and her future, or at least a glimpse of a settled past) within her grasp. The buildings dotting the area quickly converged into storefronts— large, imposing, some coy and some demanding in their presence. Since they were nearing Lumiose, the density of these settlements started to grow in size as well, with shops all vying for land closest to the capital of the region, known for fashion among other equally big things.

Fennekin yipped suddenly, insistantly nudging Serena’s arm as the small fox stared at a particular place that they must’ve passed. Feeling herself getting led by her Starter, Serena held a rueful smile as she followed the wiggles and movement of her partner, finding themselves facing one shopface among the rest.

It looked… pretty, Serena will admit.

“Fen!” Filled with surety that her Trainer lacked, Fennekin jumped out of her arms and pushed at the door, not even minding the footpath as she continued to paw at the entrance. Serena shrugged as she helped with the door, watching as Fennekin then dipped into the rows of dresses and coats among models decked in fashion unbeknown to both humann and Pokémon, the small tinkle for the door lost in the sounds of tiny footsteps and ruffling clothing.

Just as quickly Serena was surrounded by rows and rows of wonderfully tailored dresses, each of them embedded with their own unique finishing touch— sequins, frills, a sheer cut— all of them dazzling within their own right. As if in a trace, the teen found herself wandering around, no longer dragged in by Fennekin but following her own thoughts, her own plans morphing with the discovery of this place, the fashion exuded with every piece, her mind spinning with new ideas at last. Her PokéVision would work wonderfully with a dress on for style, or maybe multiple, and even if she couldn’t buy from this store she could still find alternatives—

“Dernier cri,” a voice called.

The girl stopped; her Fennekin, who was previously sniffing curiously at the scarves a few rows down, running back to Serena and standing still by her side as her ears stood upright in attention. The owner of the voice brushed past a rack of skirts with the softest of grace, revealing a middle-aged woman with long aquamarine nails and a permanent pout. “Didn’t you hear me, mon cherie? This is dernier cri, the latest fashion, and only the best of the best can bear to lay their eyes upon it.” She then squinted at Serena, and the younger female stepped back. The shopowner sniffed. “Not made of much money, are you?”

“Um…” She should definitely say something, but what would be right? “Hello there! I’m just checking out your shop and—”

“Checking out? No, no, no, mon biche, one does not ‘check out’ dernier cri! You embrace it! You let it envelope your very soul! You give away your life to taste just a drop of it!” The woman shook the head as she held it within her manicured grip. “Oh, mon dieu, is this what the world has become? People just emptily perusing through life? That is no way to live!”

Fennekin growled, glaring at the shopkeeper. Serena picked up her Starter and gently laid one hand on the Pokemon’s head as she shook her own. “No, not that! What I meant to say was that I wanted to…” She looked around, trying to catch her attention onto something. Clothes. Lots of clothes. A poster for sales, a mostly empty shop, fast fashion all around. She was making a video, right? Maybe she could… “I want to observe some of these for my own work.” And then, to add the finishing touch, “And great art needs to be appreciated, doesn’t it? I can help you!”

The woman studied her carefully. Slowly enunciating her words, as if still debating on them, she said, “Are you one of those…” She waved her hand around vaguely, before clacking her fingers together, quickly jerking her head to the side as her complicated hairstyle (complete with pins and turquiose ribbons of hair mixed with the orange) held its place. “No matter, because with or without you do have a certain je ne sais quoi, and if I can make you work with style, then the people can better understand my vision. Free advertisement, you know what I mean.”

Serena did not know what she meant. But the woman was already pushing her forward, and it was mere seconds before the curtain separating the main ship from the back rooms was upon her.

Was it her choice? Not exactly, but as Fennekin sat on a nearby stoop and licked her paws, Serena had gone through a flurry of clothing for the next hour, followed by cameras and barked orders and flashes of light so bright they were almost stars in their own right. She was probably no better than a mannequin with how the woman treated her, stabbing needles into folds and tightening sashes and taking pictures and scribbled notes. The dresses themselves were beautiful and sparkling and gorgeous, and now that she had the opportunity to try them out Serena could appreciate the thought put into them, if not the style itself.

(Fennekin wanted this. Serena did too… sort of, and she was so lucky to have this opportunity. Something solid. Something done for her rather than the other way around.

This could work if she just stood still. If she took all they gave her. If she followed their lead and believed in her Pokémon.)

Click, change, notes, repeat.

Once, when the woman quickly ran out to check with one of her workers on dress length, Serena slumped against the wall and tried to breathe. Her sides still ached with the brutal tightness, a phantom pain that would probably last her the next few days. Fennekin yipped at her, nudging the Trainer upwards. Right. Who knows how dirty the ground was…

Serena gave her Starter a small smile, dusting herself off. Looking at the full-length mirror at the back of the small changing room she was thrown into, she unconsciously put one hand on her opposite arm, right above the elbow, as if to cover… something?

(But she looked so beautiful. Reds and yellows and whites, the same colour as her Pokémon, flaring out with frills enough to make her look like royalty. And yet…)

Her lips smacked against each other as a precursor before she started with, “I—I’m… not really sure this is who I am.”

“Fen?” The Pokémon cocked her head, not understanding.

A small part of Serena felt the same way, if only for the fact that she was still dressed up like nobility and yet she felt… She didn’t know how she felt. Her arm fell down as she faced her reflection. “It’s just, well, I like fashion! I like dressing up and feeling pretty. And I know that this is what I asked for, sort of, but this… This isn’t right. This isn’t me.” Looking over to Fennekin, who looked so plain next to her, Serena’s heart squeezed in her chest as she patted the fox’s head, brushing past the one lone ribbon (as white as her own). “And this isn’t you either, I think.”

Taking off the fancy dress and returning to her usual wear was strange, but felt more right than any of the other clothing that she tried out today. Walking out of the changing room, Serena met the eyes of the woman’s assistant as his employer kept talking about something, the man shooting her an apologetic face before diving headfirst back into the conversation with gestures to match.

Of course, the woman didn’t notice. Fennekin started to growl again in Serena’s grip, shaking off the ribbon, but the Trainer didn’t go for a confrontation. Didn’t inject herself in the talk or anything.

The only thing she did was approach the front desk, where another worker was in front and shaking her head at the whole scene. “Sorry about Celine, she can get a little… over the top. We’ve been having slow business days around here lately.” The person manning the register then blinked and sat up as Serena quietly placed Fennekin’s ribbon on the desk, sighing to themselves. Their name tag read ‘Luce’. “Ah, don’t tell me, she ripped you up then roped you in, eh? That must’ve been a hard one. If I could give you something in return I would, but these clothes aren’t exactly mine, nice as the idea would be.”

Serena shifted her grip on Fennekin, not looking back as she mulled about her own dilemma. Maybe not all was lost just yet. “Well, there’s something you could give me…”

“Geez, we’re lost, aren’t we?”

“Not lost,” Clemont corrected, though his voice was muffled by the distance between him and the screen in front of his face. “Just… turned around.”

“So we are lost!” Bonnie wailed right after Ash, hands balled up by her side as Dedenne joined her with his own long squeak. Her brother glared at her, but it held very little weight on account of, yes, the screen almost glued to his nose.

Would’ve been funny if being lost wasn’t synonymous to another dreaded thing in Ash’s book. Lost time. Less practice. Losing more and more until there was nothing left but dust in your hands.

He kicked his foot on the cobbled ground, grumbling as he looked up at the big, blue sky. He only agreed to this to get some fresh air. A bit more action in his life. He knew he made a promise to his Pokémon that today was a break day (on account of his Pokémon being overworked, which is no good for everyone involved) and decided to see what the group was up to instead, but how was this any better? He wasn’t making a video. He never really cared for digital work beyond maybe how the Pokéball transfer system worked, and maybe video calls too, and to be fair some inventions too, but this was boring.

Standing still. Staying quiet. Watching someone else do all the work while he has to stay back and watch, because all he knew was battling and he couldn’t even do that today. And now they were lost in the middle of a supply run, at that!

Maybe Ash could find it in himself to care if there wasn’t a looming deadline in front of him. The next Gym, and the next, and the one after that. League and then the Elite 4, and then…

“Aha!” Ash jumped in place as he heard Clemont start talking to himself, pushing the tablet far away from him as he outlined a possible path and then eventually losing steam as he squinted at the map once more. Ash tipped his hat down afterwards, holding in his breath as Clemont grumbled, “It’s not funny, I really thought I had it this time.”

“Wow, that doesn’t sound familiar at all,” Bonnie quipped from the bench, not looking up as Pikachu and Dedenne held a staring contest beside her.

The inventor turned his head away, the Aipom Arm retracting the tablet to his bag as he raised an eyebrow. “This city is known for its maze-like structure. I recall wanting to go to the nearest PokéMart on the other side, but then I got ‘mysteriously’ outvoted…”

Ash waved his hand about thoughtlessly. “It’s called having fun outside, which also includes looking beyond the screen, but I doubt you’d know about that.”

“I do not—”

“You’ve been stuck in your room for ages!” He smirked at the flustered sounds the other was making, and leaned on the bench. So he couldn’t battle with his Pokémon. He could work with people just as fine, and if said people couldn’t see the world for what it was, then he’ll help them with all the energy he had at his disposal. “Look, I won’t hold it against you: we’re all stuck outside in the sun as it is. But maybe…”

Clemont narrowed his eyes at Ash. “Maybe…?”

Just his luck— three acrobats walk their way, one of them much shorter than the rest. With their vibrant colouring and wide grins, they were the perfect distraction and possibly even perfect help. Ash waved at them and the actors grinned even wider, if that were possible.

Ash turned to Clemont, and gave him a thumbs up as he shared a discreet hi-five behind his back with Bonnie. “Just follow my lead, and we’ll be back at the Pokémon Centre in no time.”

“Okay, so we’re not going to a shop this time.”

Fennekin slumped over her arms, ears pressed against her head as she whined lowly. Serena propped her up a few times, trying to raise her spirits. “C’mon, don’t be sad. We’ll find something good for both of us soon.” Initial purpose forgotten, Serena was now on a hunt to find an activity where they could both enjoy themselves, and her parameters were set.

1. No shops.
2. No battles, preferably.
3. Actually getting footage.

It was sheer luck that she managed to achieve number three with Luce before, having the pictures and short clips saved onto the communal drive that they had as backup, but Serena wasn’t going to rely on luck this time. This was going to be her dream, their dream, and they couldn’t waste a second of it.

PokéVision was so close. She had to make it count.

“Play it again! Play it again!”

And yet, somehow, inexplicably, the Trainer found herself slowing once more. Fennekin hopped out of her grip to sit on the short wall, cruiously watching what had caught her attention.

A group of kids with a stereo on the group, pumping their hands up as one of them twirled next to a Pokémon. It reminded her so much of what PokéVision meant to Serena, truly, words that couldn’t touch her tongue but warmed her heart all the same, and she could help but watch.

The Pokémon stood on two legs and brandished its tail like a brush, throwing out colourful paints with a bang all around them as the music played. All the kids were clapping to the beat except the one who was making their own dance which worked alongside the Pokémon, that one person switching out after a minute or so as they swapped in and out of position with another kid nearby.

Without even thinking about it, Serena drew out her Pokedex as she watched the festivities. ‘Smeargle, the Painter Pokémon. Colored fluids ooze from their tails, which they use to mark their territory and to express themselves.’

Her hands shifted, and Fennekin’s eyes locked onto the movement. Serena felt so impossibly light, as if just speaking would make her lose all inspiration and colour right there. “I… I want to join them.”

“Fe?” The fox looked worried, tail lowered, but Serena was already running down the stairs to reach the scene below with her Starter in tow, eyes forward as that thread of inspiration drew ever near.

This was (so) close. This could work. Maybe, if she made something, if she took something, if she—

“Hey, miss!” A small boy beamed at her, curly green hair peaking out of his hoodie. “Like our drawing?”

Serena looked down at the massive sheet of paper below them. There were a storm of pawprints, and shoeprints, all across, but also handprints, and sweeping lines, and splatters that matched what everyone else was wearing. The teen then looked down at her impeccably clean clothes and winced. Maybe she didn’t truly think this through. “It’s very nice! I never knew a Pokémon could do something like that.”

“Yeah, Smeargle is our friend, here!” a girl called out, her yellow sweater looking more purple than anything. “We can do anything with him around.”

The Normal-Type sniffed, tapping his tail on the ground. Fennekin jumped out of Serena’s hands and hid behind her leg, eyeing the tail as if it were a weapon. There was a pang of worry in Serena at that reaction (maybe she really didn’t think this all the way through), but then the kids small talks with each other reached a fevour pitch after seeing the Fire-Type.

“Whoa, is that a Fennekin?”

“It looks so cute!”

“Can I pet it?”

“Wait,” one of the girls called out, popping her gum before stepping forward. Her beanie almost covering half of her face, she looked at Serena and said, “Can your Fennekin even do anything?”

“Besides look pretty!” a boy yelled, before getting slapped by his friend.

Serena’s hands curled next to her side, her mind starting to fill with a familiar refrain, but then she turned to Fennekin and remembered their goal.

Maybe this was something they could do together. After all, if these kids can play with Smeargle, then it would be easy for her to work with Fennekin. “Hey, Fennekin,” she said, bending down to her level, “Do you want to try this? It looks fun, and you like dancing, right?”

Fennekin whined lowly, not meeting her eyes. Serena followed her gaze and saw the paint splattered everywhere and winced, realising the problem. She shook her head and looked back at her Pokémon once more. “We don’t have to worry about the paint; it’ll be just me and you! And the music, of course. We can dance around it if you want, but I think that this could be the perfect thing for us to record!”

Serena then stood up and dusted herself off, getting the camera out of her pocket and looking through the lens. The colours popped across the pavement, and her heart was starting to steady itself. The paint must be dry by now, right? She took a step forward and felt something sharp dig into her leg, right above her ankle, and then she paused.

Looked back at the cause.

Fennekin with her ears down, eyes wide, looking so impossibly small from the ground as she clung to Serena. Her body was reflecting so much: a dislike, a want, a fear; worry, love, love, love and trust.

…No matter what, this isn’t what Fennekin wanted. Serena turned to the expectant kids, feeling all that air in her chest empty out in defeat as her hands fell to her side. After all, they can’t work with this as a team, then this can’t work out for their video. Serena put her hands up, opening her mouth to say something, but then she heard her Starter turn her head to yip sharply as the kids started to giggle.

The girl with the gum held her hand up as another girl deposited something in it, something small and black and rectangular-shaped. 

Wait. 

The camera. The videos, the hope, the trust, the—

“If you don’t wanna show us, then we’ll just have to see what you’ve got ourselves.”

And then it was an explosion of movement forward, all the kids laughing as their stereo continued to play the beat. Serena tried to reach towards them, but then they started to throw the camera around, movements quick and sure, and she was weary and scared, scared of the chance that was flying in the air and yet so close to shattering.

There was an explosion of heat and at the corner of her eyes Serena saw Fennekin’s maw light up, her stance active as she rushed towards the child who currently had the camera. That boy threw it to the other girl on the opposite side and the fox jumped to that area, brushing by Serena like an illusion.

Wait… The Trainer watched around critically, keeping her eye on the group. There were seven of them, and they kept throwing in a pattern, as if some of them were closer friends or had an aim that worked better in that direction. She called out to Fennekin, “Go to the one in blue!” and the fox nodded before blurring her way there, right when the camera landed in the said boy’s hand, 

He yelped as he witnessed the Double Team in effect, pulling out his arms from behind his back and showing his empty hands to them. Serena’s eyes tracked some movement down two people to his left and saw them moving the camera through their pockets, calling Fennekin’s attention to the move. Again, and again, and again, they moved around— but Fennekin was guarding the ones that already had it beforehand, and so her visage doubled and tripled with every slight of hand, until there was one left.

The Smeargle growled as he held it in one paw, the other holding the paint-soaked tail as it swayed to the beat of the song. Fennekin’s face was determined yet worried, blurred face betraying some of the fear as she eyed the droplets pooling on the ground.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” Serena stepped forward, facing the Pokémon in front of them. It was her fault that they got into this mess. She couldn’t have Fennekin do all the work, and especially not when it pertained to something that she disliked.

(For all their time together, if there was one thing Serena knew, it was that Fennekin hated being dirty.

And maybe that meant something in the grand scheme of things, where Serena dabbled in everything and Fennekin liked one straight path and both of them enjoyed dressing up, but in this moment— in every moment, actually— Serena had a choice.)

She put a hand out, trying to look serious and well-put and everything she thought she was until today had happened. “Please give us back the camera. You know it’s not yours, and we’ve already told you that we’re not interested.” Because they were a team, and if one of them couldn’t do it, then that’s just how it is.

(Even if it hurts, this rejection. Any rejection. Some sort of loss…)

“Smmmear,” the Normal-Type growled, eyes narrowing. Evidently it didn’t believe them, or necessarily wanted to listen to her, and Serena couldn’t speak , because she never knew what to say when it mattered.

How to change a heart. A mind. A person, who can’t work with what they’ve got in front of them because all they knew was something different.

There was warmth brushing by her, and Serena looked down to see Fennekin stare at the Smeargle with her own glare. Looking around them, she noticed that the Double Team had faded, but— “Fen!” — Fennekin was still standing, still worried regardless, and was not about to let that Smeargle win as she charged forward with her own loud growl.

Smeargle flicked his tail out and splatters of paint littered the ground, an obstacle course, and something in her twisted as she cried out, “Dodge it, Fennekin! To your left!”

The fox was starting to skid when she noticed the markings, but with Serena’s call she instead used her energy to move on that direction, quickly gathering speed again. Smeargle started to run with the camera in his mouth, tail still swinging wildly as it moved around the other kids and causing them to shriek and scatter, but both Serena and Fennekin were laser-focused on their objective.

Dodging paint. Looking forward. The path that Fennekin took started to take on its own graceful quality, and Serena couldn’t help but be reminded of yesterday, in the fields, and that nascent dream that they both held onto both before and after that transient moment. The music was still playing, still creating a beat to follow by, and the bright colours were set aglow by the warmth that the fox emanated. A Fire-Type through and through, but also Serena’s Fennekin, her friend, her first Pokémon, a Pokémon that she thought she knew until everything had happened. 

Ash. 

Travelling in a group. 

Chasing the idea of a dream, which is today, but was also every other day since they started, even if they didn’t realise it back then.

The journey changed them, she knew that. They wouldn’t be half as different as they were compared to their past selves if it wasn’t for this, for all these moments stringed together in a long-winding thread that not even she could’ve predicted (in all her dreams and in all her wishes and in all her thoughts), and there was something, if she was willing to look into it, but still.

Left. Right. Jump. If you can’t go under then you have to rise above it all, because no path was straight in life and they were both in it together, cloudy as that future may be. Right when Fennekin was a mere few steps away from Smeargle, teeth sharp and sparking, the Normal-Type flung out his tail and something different happened.

A burst of light, reminiscent of the Ember attack that was bubbling within her Starter this whole time. Serena had no counter for it, not really, and her mind lagged behind her tongue as she watched the bright light grow close.

…Towards her?

“Ne-kin!” And then there was a dazzling blue glow which intercepted the fireball, letting it blow up into tiny sparkles not unlike fireworks in the sky. Serena looked through her fingers, her eyes alight with that light, with something new, something different, something… that was made out of love.

Without even realising it, she felt herself get up in a daze, somehow having fallen to the ground in an effort to dodge the blast coming towards herself. Fennekin trotted towards her, a small whine coming out of her chest, and Serena picked her up and gave her a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered, the words feeling much fuller than usual.

A tiny lick on her cheek was an answer.

A small hand pulled at her skirt, that camera they fought for being returned with a mumbled apology from the whole group. It was slightly slimy and flecked with paint, but it was largely unharmed, and as Serena faced them, her expression was solemn.

Maybe… she truly hadn’t thought this through. 

“It’s just that, ya know, Smeargle can only use Sketch sometimes, he can’t really control it, and we didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

Thought anything through.

“It’s okay, I’m glad you at least understand what you’ve done wrong. And thank you for returning this.”

Looking back, there were the kids behind her, devoid of music, of laughter, plagued with the severity of that sudden moment. The radio was off. One of them must have turned it off when trying to warn them all about the attack. It never looked so empty as it did now.

Serena never really wanted this.

“For what it’s worth, I really did like your dance.”

The girl in the beanie spoke up after a few seconds. “Thanks, miss, but we don’t need no pity. C’mon Smeargle, let’s go back.”

All she wanted was to get the best picture in life.

The acrobats were lost, too.

“That makes no sense, I’m sure we passed this hedge three times before!” The man of the group (at least the taller one) whined, patting the bush in front of him as he slumped forward. He seemed to be the one taking this mission the most seriously, running around and vaulting over and periodically curling up at more than one point in time. The others in his troupe didn’t pay him much mind before, even if Clemont kept finding himself next to the man at some points of their stay together and taking a few steps away from the energy he emanated. Ash thought he (the strange man, not his friend) was hilarious, right up until it was obvious what fate they all shared.

The woman wasn’t too fussed, having her eyes fixed on Ash. “And you say that you will recompense us? We’re paid by the minute, you know.”

“Second, even,” the smallest one piped up. Ash turned to Clemont, who gave him a flat look. Ah. It’s Ash’s plan, this time. 

This very much sucked.

Especially since directions weren’t really his strong suit, even with all the travelling that he’s done. One can try to find fault in that all they wanted (seriously, many have tried), but maps existed for a reason, and a region was a very wide place to memorise. Easier to just walk on your own two feet rather than worry about what’s ahead, but that didn’t do much in the midst of a maze. Pikachu chirped from his usual perch, and the Kantonian pursed his lips as he folded his arms in thought. “Well, it’s no good if all of us are stuck here, is it?”

“Of course, of course,” the woman purred, patting the shoulder where Pikachu was. The mouse crackled threateningly, and she eeked before pulling her hand away hastily, almost cradling it with the other. Her eye may have twitched, but it was so fast it was basically unnoticable. “Just that… We deserve our own reward, you know. Our talents are very top-order and deserve to be recognised as the treasure they are. And treasure should be shared with the less fortunate so that they may appreciate all the colours that life has and that they don’t.”

“Your point…?” 

“My point is that we’ll take what we want and you won’t do anything about it, twerp!” she snapped.

Ash blinked, hand hovering in the space between them, purpose forgotten. The others behind him looked similarly shocked, all for different reasons.

The woman brushed herself off, gold-like bangles flashing in the sun, before coughing discreetly. “Pardon me, the heat must be getting to us all. What that really means is that we’ll need to get out of this dastard maze as quickly as possible.”

“That’s not the only thing getting into you,” the taller man murmured. A small kick silenced him.

…

“So…” Bonnie opened up, looking between the two groups. 

Ash sighed, scratching the back of his neck. He did not expect this to happen. Lost on the way back from a PokéMart. Probably one of the worst ways to get lost, second to that Onix Island. Or maybe the Distortion Realm. Or near Saffron City with what happened there. “We really are good and lost,” he groaned, slumping forward as Pikachu chewed on his ear lightly.

What a waste. What a big problem that could’ve easily been avoided if they stayed put, a sentiment he could almost hear getting psychically injected into his head, a sentiment that one person in particular would say to him if they could. Ash allowed himself to glance at where Clemont was, ready to explain away the decision, but the inventor wasn’t anywhere near him.

Ash felt worry crash into him all of a sudden, uncharacteristic and strange, and his fists bunched by his side as he turned his head around. No yellow mop of hair, or sky-blue suit, or a glint of glasses. Out of the corner of his hearing, he could hear some noises and he followed them, that worry sliding into something… he didn’t want to think about.

A few twists and turns later revealed the one he was looking for. The inventor was bent over something, hands cranking as his eyes were trained on the object he was working with. Face scrunched deeply with concentration, it was a scene that Ash shouldn’t interrupt (knowingly).

Ash knew how important work was to someone. Heck, he was doing his own kind until today, and until today he didn’t realise how much nothing he had on his own, without battles to define him.

“There you are, Clemont! I was looking for you, you know.” So, fine, he still said something (this time), because he was worried first, work-conscious second. Or third. Or maybe last, because he was a little selfish like that when it came to his friends.

Clemont startled, shoulders jumping before folding in on themselves again. He shoved his project into his bag, movement gentle yet quick, before turning to face Ash. “Huh? Did you find a way out yet?”

“Nope!” He made sure to sound extra happy, in that way that no one could blame him for his intrusion. “And I know what I said, but, well, using a map needs more than one person.”

“One person can use a map, Ash.”

“That’s not how it works in my experience. Or yours, considering before.” He cocked his head at him, musing his words before asking, “Anyways, when did you leave? One minute you were giving me those serious eyes, and then the next minute you were, ‘poof’, gone. Didn’t think you were that fast.”

“Was Bonnie worried?”

“No, but—”

“Then it doesn't matter,” Clemont interjected, voice brooking no arguments. Ash quickly fell silent, wondering what got into his friend (he wasn’t usually like this, right?), and the inventor's tone turned sardonic as he said, “I thought you said it was about having fun outside, Ash.”

“Yes, but—”And he didn’t understand why he was feeling fed up (and now he was feeling it, that emotion that he always had tried to avoid that kept coming back), he knew what he said and he knew how to deal with people using his words against him, but Ash was supposed to be (the leader, right?)— “You can’t just leave us behind, you know.”

Clemont didn’t look back at him. “I didn’t leave you alone. I was just around the corner, wasn’t I? Nothing like what you were doing yesterday, or the day before.” There it was, that rebuking tone. Ash was supposed to be (the strongest, right?).

How do you get better at being better? In the maze, there was no high ground. Just twisted reflections and that faint air of malaise surrounding them.

Ash was good at focusing on a target in front of him, and Clemont had his back faced towards the Kantonian. It would be so easy to just say the worst thing to him, to force him to acknowledge him, to fight him, by Arceus all Ash wanted to do was battle. He didn’t care who or what he was facing. 

His mouth was opened, sharp words hauled from the depths of his restless soul.

(But then he remembered:

Clemont watching him on the first night outside, eyes wide with weariness, voice biting and cold. 

“We’re not opponents on the road— just normal people. Friends, even. You don’t have to be efficient with us.”

Ash was never efficient, not when it counted, not when he even tried. Just loose ends and a dream that could never be fulfilled.)

So Ash opened his mouth, and nothing came out except one very tiny alone whine.

Clemont looked at him in surprise, eyes as wide as they were back then, but this time under the light of the sun. Ash quickly wiped his face and snapped his jaw shut, wondering about the noise he made. He would’ve tried to talk it away, explain it like everything else, but he couldn’t trust his voice at this particular moment.

All he wanted was to battle. That didn’t take any words to people, just commands and encouragement and a thank you, no matter the outcome. Clemont closed up his bag and stood up, moving towards Ash, stopping nearby then tilting his head as if studying him.

His weakness.

“You’re a lot shorter than I thought.”

His— Wait, what?

Ash sent the inventor a bewildered look, which caused a wry smile to appear on the latter’s face as he shrugged in response. “You stand so tall most of the time, so pardon me for not noticing it before.”

There was a twinkle behind those glasses, kindness and sympathy and an unwillingness to pry. He was giving him a way out. Ash thought that was a weakness, before, to shy away from your problems, but… “And you’re tall?” he replied with a skeptical tone.

“Compared to you, I would say so. Would you believe that I haven't even hit my growth spurt yet?” Ash shot him an incredulous look, and Clemont seemed to fight back a laugh. “Okay, what’s with that face, huh?”

Ash shook his head, slinging an arm over Clemont’s neck and disregarding the stiffened body he felt underneath. “Tall or short, it doesn’t matter if I can do this!” He rubbed their cheeks together, an action he inherited through countless time spent next to Pikachu's side, and Clemont yelped as he tried to duck out of the confrontation.

This was no battle, not by any means, but Ash couldn’t help it. A win was a win, and he would take them wherever he could find them. 

Battles and friends. That’s all a journey offered him, but it wasn’t that simple, was it?

When it comes down to it, Ash will never abandon his friends.

…But he could stand to make his stance more clear, if only to assure such friends. 

Just maybe. 

In the future, perhaps (it could even be today, if they could get out of this maze!).

There was one early morning, a morning where Ash was already practicing and Bonnie was huddled underneath the covers, where Serena was watching the turned back of one certain inventor.

Her fingers twiddled in front of her, a tongue full of words and arguments and probing questions suddenly so very dry. Serena was ready for this except that she wasn’t, and no matter how many times she tried to string all the words together, they never felt quite right. Serena knew that Clemont had agreed with going back to Lumiose City on a whim (her whim), and she knew that he was in the process of whipping up an invention (that would inevitably explode later in the day, to nobody’s surprise)— these things that they talked about sparingly beforehand, but there was still something.

(It was always something with Serena, but then again, what else could she say? How could she explain the presence of something if she didn’t know what it was?

…All she wanted was a reason. A purpose. Something to call her own.)

The boy turned to her, and Serena flushed. Well, it was now or never, and she couldn’t live with the other option. Opening her mouth, she let the words fly into the tepid daylight:

“You’re not angry at me… right?”

Clemont paused, looking over towards her with a slightly surprised face. “Why would you think that, Serena?”

He didn’t deny it. Serena bit her lip, shaking her head as she turned her attention back onto the table in front of her. If she didn’t make it a big deal, it wouldn’t be. Just an innocent question, right? “It’s nothing, just wanted to make sure.”

There was a pause, and then his voice spoke up. “Ah. I've probably made you uncomfortable before, haven’t I? I’m sorry for that, if that is the case.” Serena turned to face him; she never really noticed how small Clemont made himself to be, before. His collar pushed up to rest on either side of his face, higher than it should, and his arms were always bent by his side.

Serena didn’t want that— didn’t want him to feel upset, or worried, or scared. That was clear enough in her head, crystal clear to the point that she sputtered, “No, no, I never said that!”

The firepit crackled, with Clemont facing towards her, body half-leaning. His glasses were obscured by the light. Serena pushed some of her hair away as she mirrored his pose, feeling more grounded than she expected herself to be, and it’s strange, because they never really talked like this before.

Not about each other. Not with time to spare. Not without training in mind.

Just them.

It’s just Clemont.

(The boy who was with Ash before she managed to reunite, the inventor lighting up with predictions, the Trainer with two Pokémon and a half, the brother who cares so deeply, a well that overflows and sparkles like diamonds.)

“I know you said that it isn’t a waste of time for me to find my path but… You looked sad when I talked about the PokéVision competition.” It was a myriad of moments stitched into one— tight lips, hunched posture, even more time spent away from the group. It was in how she couldn’t find him in the Battle Chateau. It was in how Bonnie started to gravitate more and more towards two extremes, us or them, a line that Serena hadn't really seen until Ash was out of the picture.

She didn’t want to hurt anyone with this foolish, selfish pursuit of hers. Somehow, she still managed to do it anyway.

“Oh, Serena.” His eyes crinkled with the weight of his soft smile, and Serena couldn’t help the way her heart fell. It was so close to disappointment, and she already had enough of that for a lifetime. “It’s not your fault. I was just… thinking about something I left behind, that’s all.”

Her bottled-up breath whistled out of her lips before she noticed she was holding it in the first place. 

“Oh,” she echoed emptily, feeling her head quiet with those words. 

‘Not her fault.’

…Then who was it?

“If it isn’t too intrusive, what did you leave behind to make you feel like that?” It might not be her fault, but she wanted to help. He’s been helping all of them for so long, for as long as she’s joined them, and she never really got to talk to him, not like this.

(The sun rose in the sky, banishing any signs of darkness. It was well and truly day now.)

Not about him. He deserved to be listened to, just like how he listened to everyone else.

Clemont takes in a deep breath, looking at her pensively. “It’s… a lot. And not that interesting. And don’t you have your video to do?”

Serena shrugged. “It’s not as solid of a plan as you might think. I don’t even know how to operate a camera properly.” She then let out a small laugh. “I mean, I can practice once I get to the Pokémon Centre, but it would take more time, wouldn’t it?”

“I can help with that, you know.” The inventor’s eyes were anywhere but on her, but she still felt the same sentiment shining through. “I’ve studied and reverse-engineered enough cameras to be able to create a new one. Give me some time and I can rig up a camera for you to experiment with the controls today, even.”

“That’s—” So incredibly nice. Because that’s Clemont, always giving, always helping, even at the expense of himself. She’s seen it enough times by now. And something about him… it makes her want to do better, too.

She shook her head and said instead, "Thank you so much, I really appreciate it. But… Should I be scared about how many cameras you’ve probably broken to get to that kind of knowledge?”

Clemont chuckled, a sound that surprised even him. “It was more of a necessity if anything.”

“But is that better or worse than what I thought?”

The inventor opened his mouth to argue but then a well-rested Bonnie ran towards the table, asking about what the day will bring, and then Ash wandered over, Pikachu slumped over his shoulder as he talked about how his training was going and pulling his bowl from the middle of the table to next to his side, already digging into the food prepared.

And as the morning before the Pokémon Centre happened, as they talked and prepared and thought, Serena was looking forward.

To her dream. To how she will show it, on video, in Lumiose, a few days from now. A little less than a week from now.

(As long as she had her friends by her side, her Pokémon by her side… this could work. Just maybe.)

“This isn’t going to work out.”

Fennekin growled, looking up at Serena with a furrow in her brow. Serena sat on the bench in front of the Pokémon Centre, her head between her hands, her own mouth flat.

No matter what they did, they always came to an impasse. She was too unfocused; her Starter too blinded. Serena knew that they had to work together to make something worthy for an introduction, but all the running around and the refusals just served to make the project even more painful than it was.

“It’s not that I think we should stop, but…” And Serena bit her lip, trying to think of the right words to comfort Fennekin. Which was funny, considering that Fennekin was the one who had a vision, a sure idea, something solid that she could hold on to. It was Serena who couldn’t commit. Looking away from those narrowed eyes, she tried again. “Maybe what we want isn't compatible. Which is fine! It would be boring and probably a bit strange if we were the same. But… Oh, I just don’t know anymore.” Her voice dipped into a whisper, tears pricking the edge of her eyes as she fiddled with her hands. “I don’t think I ever knew what I got into.”

“Fen! Fenne-kin, fen, fen.” But Fennekin was stubborn and strong-headed, and always had her own path and stuck with it, even when it was clear that it couldn’t last. And Serena only had one destination and that was to give Ash back the hat, to get away from home, to choose Fennekin as her Starter, and that was all the same to her.

All Serena had was a hazy dream, something that’s not rather than something that is. She faced Fennekin, watching all that beautiful golden fur puff up in agitation, the fox barking at her, tone hard and pushing for more. Serena shook her head, feeling so bad for the action as she stepped away, hands by her side as she took a deep breath and steadied her voice. “We can’t make a video like this, don’t you see?”

Fennekin’s next cry sparked with embers as she jumped in place. “Kin, fen? Fen-fen, kin, fen.” 

The teen flung her arms out in front of her, stress building up. “How? How can we make an introduction if we don’t have any activity to base it on? The shop, the dance— We don’t even have a cake because somehow the others have gotten lost without us.” Serena looked at Fennekin, really looked at her, and then turned away. There was no use. She of all people knew how hard it was to change a heart. “Maybe we’ll just wait for them before getting their opinion.”

Fennekin stiffened up, before deflating. Maybe that’s the only thing they could agree on after all.

Serena went to sit down, content in stewing in her thoughts until the others hopefully arrived, but a cyclist drove by with an overeager Furfrou following behind, the latter bumping into the seat before running onwards as if nothing had happened. Fennekin held her balance, ear tuffs lighting up with concentration, and the human let out a relieved sigh. The bag, however, had started to lean before the impact, and the change encounter hadn’t made anything better for it as it wobbled precariously.

After a few tantalising seconds where it seemed to have stayed in its spot, the bag then tipped over, the portable device starting to slip out from the slightly-opened zipper, and both girl and Pokémon dived from their places in order to save it from falling off the chair.

Both of them then found themselves locking eyes as they laid sprawled over the concrete ground, paw and hand cupped around the device as their chests beat in unison. 

The same worry.

The same love.

Fennekin stood up first because she was always sure of herself and conscious of her image, and that was something new Serena learnt on her journey with her, something she couldn’t learn from the pamphlet or from videos of other Starters. Something unique to them alone. 

Serena picked herself up after, grimacing at the dirt that accumulated beneath her hands. She opened the screen carefully, worried about the contents. 

There was a message. 

Fennekin nudged her softly, as if imbuing her with that surety she always had in spades. Serena opened it, and a small icon popped up. A download of files. Checking the time it was sent, she realised it was from the store they visited earlier.

‘Good luck with your work, whatever it is! Feel free to visit on a better day :P  >Luce!’

Her finger continued tapping through the pictures, eyes watering as she saw all the dresses and pictures— Some of them silly and clearly a matter of personal taste, some of them professional and stunning. Fennekin dozing off on the stool while Serena was in another room. A poofy dress that Celine almost tripped over while Serena held a stiff smile and straight back. The chandelier sparkling as Serena walked away with a golden dress, one that was a lot lighter than she expected, in more ways than one. Looking back at all these memories, beyond that tight place, and knowing that there was still something there…

“Fen?” The fox was quiet, looking reflective as she looked up at Serena. 

The Trainer wiped at her eyes, giving her a smile that was true and bright and maybe a little wobbly. “I’m okay. I’m just… it really was beautiful, wasn’t it? We didn’t really plan for this, but it happened. And, well, it turns out that I… wasn’t as alone as I thought I was.” She clicked again and found a few pictures from earlier, with the paint, and shook her head, looking at Fennekin.

The fox stared at it in concentration, no hackles raised or low growling to be heard. After a hesitant second she then put a paw on the screen, right where the red streaks blended with blue to make purple. The spot where they danced together, no matter how unplanned that was either. Working as a team. Not holding the burden alone. Both of them reaching for the camera, their dream, together.

They were always together, she realised. Even when Fennekin was in the Pokéball, Serena never truly felt alone, not since she left Professor Sycamore's lab with a new friend in tow. And even if nothing was planned, if her journey was rudderless, if that perfect moment hadn’t arrived— Well. 

Serena looked at Fennekin, really looked at her, and saw how resplendent she looked. Her Starter, positively glowing in the light of day, her friend no matter what came their way. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Serena whispered, putting two fingers over the paw. Fennekin’s tail started wagging and the Pokémon yipped, eyes glowing with happiness regardless of the whole memory in and of itself. And Serena couldn’t understand it, not really, but there was something there.

A step forward. All these steps forward, from a Coffieuse telling her about how her Furfrou loves and how they both work with strength of heart, to a reporter talking about inspiration and the drive to conquer dreams, to a retired Rhyhorn Racer speaking about how much care one boy could have in order to scale a tower for a Pokémon.

People and Pokémon. Fennekin’s paw tapped the screen experimentally and the next file was a video, dated from yesterday. At the questioning hum, Serena laughed. “Oh, that was just me trying to see if this could record videos. As you can see, it wasn’t that good.” She then thought to herself, recalling the strange invention of Clemont’s. “Well, it was better than some things, I guess. Do you want to see it?”

The fox pressed play, curiosity already getting the better of her. Serena helped to steady the screen, both their eyes on the shaky footage, mostly of grass and blurry skies. The audio was broken and the whole video was almost unsalvageable except for one particular moment.

“That’s you, sweetie,” Serena responded to the curious yip. Because on the screen, for a few minutes the video ran for, was Fennekin hopping around in the small field of flowers that they found on their walk. The way the fox skipped around in joy was so similar to how she dodged paint today, with that fluid sort of grace, and for a split second it looked like she was dancing with many other versions with herself, puffing out small plumes of fire after every alternate beat.

Serena couldn’t help it— her head swayed just as it did then, her own feet moving to the same beat, and Fennekin followed her. When the video ended it was all too soon, and the two of them were left with what they had.

A small piece of joy. Not a complete set, not by any means, but more than what they initially had. 

She watched as Fennekin turned to her, pride in her eyes as her tail still swirled in the air. Lots of little pieces, in fact. All of them… done together. Even if it wasn’t perfect. “You know, Fennekin, I think we’ve had it all wrong.” She placed the Pokémon on the bench, quickly standing up as she paced around. “We’ve been trying so hard to find one thing to fit the both of us, but we’re not just one thing, are we? We like fashion, and dancing, and making things together, whether it’s art or clothes or food.”

“Fen!” the Fire-Type cheered, confusion quickly melting into surety.

Serena grinned, stopping in place as she put her hand up. “So, why make a PokéVision video only about one thing? Our introduction deserves the whole of us for it to really be about us.” She softened, giving her a shrug. “I know today wasn’t the best, but we learnt a lot about ourselves. So I think… maybe, we really can make this work. With what we have, as we are. What do you say?” 

Fennekin jumped into her hands as a response, all softness and strength and their own brand of love and understanding.

Okay, now both of them were lost.

“And this is why you shouldn’t just disappear, you know, although I'm starting to think that this maze isn’t helping things in the first place. I mean, who puts a maze in the middle of a city? Well, not in the middle, but it does take up a lot of space and all the hedges look the same. I bet even if you’re tall you can still get lost, because sometimes the walls get weirdly small— Like there!— and then you’d just trip and fall.” Ash found himself talking to fill in the silence, a strange thing that pervaded the space between him and Clemont. And, yes, he knew that not everyone liked talking and the inventor least of all, but just… hearing something. Anything. It’s reassurance, in its own way.

As previously noted, Clemont didn’t say anything. He kept following him with his head down, thinking to himself, a trait that has amplified itself in the last few days. Ash stopped in place after a while to turn back to him, thinking about asking the obvious question, but…

There was a moment, some tension, still hanging between them. He found himself feeling that wave of uncomfortableness, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, and Clemont readjusted his glasses as he finally looked up to glance at Ash. Turning his head away— possibly taking the eye contact as a chance to finally say what was on his mind— Clemont paused before asking, almost spitting it out, “Are we holding you back?”

“What?”

Clemont looked… pensive at the reaction. The aftermath. Ash didn’t want to think it, per say, but… maybe that was a good thing (for those next words to be staved off for as long as possible). “You were busy ever since we got out of the Battle Chateau; always off training, always alone. Even on your break day, you seem to take any excuse to run ahead.” He turned to him, and his glasses obscured those calculating eyes beneath. “But it didn’t start there, did it? I understand that you were gearing up for your next Gym Battle, but is that really how you prepare?”

Ash scratched the back of his neck, feeling… prickly? Weird. Definitely weird. “There’s nothing wrong with being prepared, right?” he said, somehow left on the defense as he unconsciously widened his stance.

The inventor shook his head, facing away. “I guess so.” Another concession. Ash couldn’t stand it, but then again, didn’t he take the chance when it was given to him? 

“But—” And there his tongue goes, running ahead once more— “You know, I’ve been meaning to have a battle partner. Someone to train against.”

Clemont raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to help with the camera set up once we get back. Remember Serena’s project?”

The reason why they were outside in the first place. That question ‘Are we holding you back?’ floated in Ash’s mind again, and he let himself think about it for more than a second.

He… loved travelling with others. Staying with them. Not just for the battle— in some cases, his companions couldn’t even give it to him, not in their full capacity or just not at all. Ash respected that. Had been friends with them regardless. Helped out each other, no matter the cost.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Ash tilted his hat down, trying to cover his face as he bit his lip below its rim. He had to be strong, and that meant helping out others, even in different ways. He had to be a pillar of hope, of happiness, of joy, so that people won’t leave him. So that he could have friends and have his battles too. Because, like it or not, once Ash has made a friend… well, he doesn’t let go easily. No matter how hard he or they tried.

(So he could make them proud, make them happy. Make it all worth it in the end.)

He then pushed the cap up and gave his biggest smile, patting his chest as he cried, “Then I’ll help too! And then we’ll make the best video ever and win that competition!”

“Serena will be winning that competition,” Clemont said, but it was soft, no hard edges, no rebuking tone. Satisfied. A reaction Ash craved all the same.

Because the worst thing to do was hold someone back on their dreams right? Worse than losing. Ash would know.

“Pinap, Pinap.”

“Sounds like the same word to me.”

“I totally said it differently!”

(“I… never travelled outside the city with other people before,” Clemont had said, once. Ash looked at him then, watching the moonlight catch onto his edges and highlight his face.

Just another one to remember. Another one he might have to leave, too. “It’s fun,” Ash supplied, sounding chipper then. “It’s the best thing in the world. You’ll love it, just trust me.”

And that’s all they can do. Trust, in yesterday and tomorrow.)

It took some time (and some keen listening, once Clemont finally realised that they were walking around in circles when following the Kantonian’s lead) (no, it wasn’t his fault they were lost in the first place), but they managed to walk back to the group, where the comically tall woman (with stilts on?) was in the middle of a rant with the very small Bonnie glaring up at her. Both of their arms crossed as the normal-height man was trying to calm both of them down, the tiny guy at the edge of the conflict egging them on instead with a Pumpkaboo flicking its lights on and off nearby. A Wobbuffet had somehow appeared, looking… pretty average, all things considered. Ash didn’t pay that last detail much mind, instead asking, “So what happened now?”

“This clown is trying to take Dedenne!” Bonnie yelled, stamping her feet emphatically. The woman scoffed, and the young girl added, “And she also said that everyone was ugly including me.”

“Jessandra didn’t mean any of it,” the tall man babbled, shaking his gloved hands in front of them and notably not holding eye contact. “She merely tried to demonstrate to this young lady some of the skills that our troupe are well-versed in.”

“Like how not to be a Twerp,” the tiny man mumbled.

“Like how to take a compliment when you get it,” Jessandra said above her comrade, widening her stance and wobbling precariously before steadying herself. “After all, the world is blessed to have my talents, and if you can’t take in the dazzling brilliance of my wisdom as it is, then you’re just as stupid as you are ugly.”

Bonnie threw her hands out and cried out, “See?!”

Ash pinched his nose, trying to think over all this noise. Pikachu really was no help today, still lying across his bag, and his own thoughts were no good as they are. “I thought we needed to get out of this place,” he found himself muttering, quickly tired of this whole ordeal

“What do you think the stilts are for, Tw— I mean, young and impressionable young lad?”

“Look, I’ve got a proposition!” The woman glared down from above, her smile more menacing than kind. “These stilts are electric-powered. If you give us an Electric Type like, oh, I dunno, your Pikachu over there, I’m sure I can get to a respectable height in order for us to get out of this maze. And you can’t refuse, because it’s the best plan that we’ve got so far.”

Now Bonnie was raising an eyebrow at Ash with an ‘I told you so’ look. The Trainer tilted his head to see Jessandra’s current height. “Aren’t you tall enough already?”

The man piped up, “Since we’ve already established that no one has a camera anywhere in this group, this is the least we can do to remedy the situation. Because a camera would really help. We could leave and no one would be the wiser, actually. You should’ve had the camera with you.”

“Don’t question the maths!” the smaller man said, flapping his sleeves at them in some sort of threatening attempt. The Wobbuffet gave them a salute.

Before Ash could even question what any of that even meant, Clemont, who was thankfully nearby this time, whipped out an invention from the bag he was rummaging through with a gleam in his eyes and a familiar prelude to follow. “The future is now, thanks to science!”

“Thanks to what now?” the small man interjected.

“Don’t ask,” Bonnie mumbled, looking dejected.

Ash felt himself vibrating with that hidden joy as his utter belief in his friend started to spill out of the seams. Of course Clemont would have a solution just as things seemed to be hopeless! He was so lucky to be travelling with a guy like him, no doubt about it. “Science is so amazing!” he called out with a hand pumped up to the sky, a massive grin on his face.

“Hmm.” The woman’s eyes narrowed, something almost like recognition flashing over her face— If Ash was watching, maybe he would’ve recognised it for what it was. “You, geek down there with the glasses!” Clemont stiffened, all of his bravado disappearing with those words as he looked up at her. “You have a plan for everything, correct? Even for your little excursion with your other friend, the one doing the whole PokéVision thing.”

“How did you—”

“How I know doesn’t matter, Twerp!” The Pumpkaboo started to float ever nearer, looking every bit as ominous as it was as its lights washed over them. “You know what? New plan! You give me your bag, and you won’t get blasted by my darling over here.”

Bonnie stepped forward, mouth open in a retort, but Clemont held her back, taking a few steps back. Looking up at the woman as the troupe started to converge, he asked, voice low, “What would you even need from my bag in the first place?”

“That’s none of your concern.” She flicked a wrist at them, turning away with an almost blasé attitude. “Say goodbye to that deadweight, because it’s coming with me. Boys, go get them.”

Nothing happened.

Pikachu murmured as Ash stepped forward, jerking his head up towards them. “Looks like nobody likes your new plan.” The two men tried to look disinterested, with the Wobbuffet scratching its head.

Jessandra attempted to stomp her feet but couldn’t even lift the stilt off the ground without wobbling, trying to give them a glare. “C’mon, what’s wrong with you! Help me get the bag!”

“But things always explode when it comes to that kid,” the taller man whined, with his smaller comrade nodding in agreement.

“Ugh, fine, we’ll do it the hard way. Pumpkaboo, use Leech Seed!”

“Pikachu, use—” Ash looked back, realising that his partner was now tuckered out and deeply asleep. He pivoted, trying to find something to help, but the thick vines looped around Clemont and started to drag him off and then there was nothing for it anymore. Gritting his teeth he jumped to grab his friend, his hands intertwined with the inventors, as he pulled him back with all the strength he had. “Let go of him! His bag isn’t yours to take!”

“Who are you to say what is yours and what is ours? It’s clear that you know that you’re going to lose if you’re telling me to do something so useless,” she retorted, the Pumpkaboo tugging its body back and pulling at the vines with every movement. Ash held on, not letting go, digging his heels in as he took every precious inch that he could, unable to answer.

What is his and what is not. It sounds so simple until you’re living in real life with time passing you by. He kept pulling harder, though, his body on autopilot as the vines kept trying to drag him to the woman ahead, or behind, or wherever she was in this maze. The Pumpkaboo was still doing its job, evidently, its force starting to take on a distinctive red glow as steam started to puff out from it.

One of the men looked frightened at that sign, putting a thick hand over their long mouth as they muttered, “Pumps not looking so good, chief.”

“Is that…” The other man pulled out a device, scanning it before sighing. Looking upwards, he called out, “Jess, it’s really not worth staying around here. Don’t you think that there are much easier targets out there?”

“Don’t tell me that you’re turning tail!” the woman snapped. “From day one, our motto is to stick to what we get until its done, and I’m not about to let some Twerps ruin it for me. Not now. Not for as long as we can call ourselves Team Rocket.”

Bonnie was attempting to block the Wobbuffet from joining its mistress but at the last words turned back in surprise, shouting out, “Team Rocket?!” 

The Pokemon beside her scurried back at the volume, with the two men sighing and shucking off their costumes and elaborate makeup— Ash spared them a glance and sure enough, James and Meowth revealed themselves with a tired rendition of their motto. 

With all the commotion following the revelation, with the younger girl rattling off questions while the woman who was presumably Jessie barking at everyone in the vicinity, it was miraculous in and of itself that the next thing Ash heard was, “You should let me go.”

Ash shook his head, eyes drifting from the towering figure of the acrobat to Clemont in front of him. His glasses were reflecting the sun that was above them, the slant of his mouth set and grim. “This is your bag we’re talking about,” Ash said harshly, staring him down. “I’ve never seen you let someone else touch it, even with your own sister. And you’re telling me to let go? To give to Team Rocket of all people?”

“It’s… for the best.” Clemont didn’t give him eye contact, but the way his hands briefly held tighter with the next jerking movement behind him gave Ash pause. Looking down to the ground, he then shook his head again, trying to free himself from all the conflicting voices. The inventor added, “Look, I’ll even get myself down safely, if that helps.”

Before Ash could open his mouth, Clemont let go of one hand and slipped his arm through the straps, his top of his shoe just touching the ground as he then did the same with the other arm. The vines pulled the bag up into the air, holding it up for Jessie to take with unnecessarily flair. She then waited, looking worried for a brief moment as she turned to her Pumpkaboo. “Lower me down so I can properly appreciate my spoils!” she commanded, no doubt found anywhere in her voice.

Pumpkaboo was still steaming, though, and with a vengeful cackle it used its vines to sweep away the stilts. Jessie yelped as she fell downwards, and Wobbuffet ran around the still-arguing Bonnie in order to catch (or rather, act as a pillow for) his Trainer. With the blue body cushioning her fall, she turned her attention to the Pumpkin Pokémon, ready to rip into it verbally before the bag in her grasp lurched momentarily.

Everyone stilled, as if an alert for a nationwide bomb had been called out. After a frightful minute Ash took a step forward, ready to at least fight for his friend if he couldn’t change his mind, but Clemont put a hand on his shoulder to still him. The young Kantonian looked at him, really looked, and saw… strength in there.

“You better have a good plan for this,” Bonnie mumbled as she stood next to them, holding the strap of her pouchette with a tight grip, eyes still on the trio of acrobat-thieves.

Jessie did not bother to throw her own costume off as she held onto the bag with one hand, flinging off the flap that covered the top of the bag with one swift movement. The rest of her group flinched, as if expecting something bad to happen, but there was no explosion.

No fuss. Nothing happened as she stuck a hand in, rummaging around and causing Clemont’s grip on Ash’s shoulder to tighten as she finally drew out one particular invention. The thick, glossy black bulk of the machine would usually disavow someone from holding it like a national treasure, and yet Jessie all but crowed as she cradled it near herself. “Oh, dear camera, the Twerps may have separated us but the glorious curtains will forever call our name.”

“To doom,” Meowth added, somewhat flatly even if his body language looked interested in the proceedings. As the lone (human) woman of the group, she hummed and hawed about the very many beautiful things they would do together, and as nothing seemed to be amiss the rest of the Rocket gang started to walk forward and become more receptive to the lacklustre heist. None of them noticed the faint light glowing from the open bag, or the tiny whine that emitted from deep within right after.

But Ash had started to get the hang of explosions— from his many journeys, and from this one in particular. Clemont and Bonnie have their own experience as it was and were already hurrying him up, pulling him around a few bends before hunkering down.

Three.

“Hey, does anyone know where the Twerps went?”

“Who cares? Don’t look a gift Rapidash in the mouth and just… take whatever.”

Two.

“Wobba?”

One.

“Hmm, does anyone else hear that racket?”

You know what happened next.

“That was like a level 3 explosion at best,” Bonnie said as they returned to the Blast-Off site, looking at the aftermaths with indifference. Clemont ran over to his bag, sitting next to it and dusting it off with reverence that greatly betrayed his worry, Ash looking upwards as a distant sparkle winked at him from the sky above.

Well. That was eventful. The Battle Trainer turned to the inventor and thought about the situation, chewing on the words bouncing in his head. In the end, this was all about trust, and he knew he trusted them. They didn’t do anything to not have his trust, not in the whole time they knew each other.

But. See. That’s the thing. That’s what every adventure has given him, over and over again, someone new with worry and smiles and misunderstandings cleared up by morning (and the end of the world and goodbyes and an empty seat on both sides). Ash has already done the same song and dance countless times before, and Kalos was supposed to be different, and he really only came here to battle his way to the top. Even if he wasn’t averse to having company.

“Um, Ash?”

He blinked and the next second he knew, the siblings were at the edge of his vision, waving him down as they talked about a new exit (evidently from the explosion itself). “Aren’t you coming anytime soon, you Slowpoke?” Bonnie cried, waving her hands around, and even that echoed with familiarity.

A younger Ash, an old dream, childhood stretching onwards to eternity. At some point, you had to grow up and make the hard choices. The ones that you can never go back from. At some point you couldn’t keep walking around as if it’s your first time because first times happen only once, and the people he’s with, they’re so new, and Ash couldn’t ruin that for them. He came to Kalos to be strong, but now there are other responsibilities that call to him. Some old and some different, but inevitably just as weighty as the rest.

(like being a champion like being a chosen one like being a—)

“Yeah, I’m coming, I’m coming!”

He liked this group, it’s true. But with every ticking second, he could feel the league pressing onto him, a deadline that even death can’t hold him back from (it’s tried, several times before), and Ash… didn’t want to hurt them. Didn’t want them to be hurt too, either by whatever has followed him or has awoken with his presence. He’s had enough experience to back that up as it is.

So whatever happens, come trouble or training or anything, he will have to do whatever it takes to keep them safe, standing at the front lines always. Even if it is them on the other side. Even if it is him.

(Because, if anything, it is him who is holding them down, and so he has to make it worth it, for all of them, can’t you see?)

And so maybe that’s why he said, “Don’t risk yourself like that next time,” to Clemont, voice low, eyes downcast, if only to limit the very real worry in his own chest.

(The reply doesn’t matter. He said his point.)

The exit stood in front of them, charred with blackened leaves and affronted faces, and they walked out of it and into the cobbled footpath ahead, together as one.

One crisis averted, a million more to go.

(“Hey, where are the groceries?!”

Okay, well, one other crisis recently found as well.)

Serena looked up as footsteps echoed before three familiar faces walked in, her small wave faltering at their guilty expressions. “Uh… long time, no see?” She looked at them, noting their dirty clothing and weary expressions as Fennekin opened one eye lazily. “Hmm.”

“Team Rocket,” Ash supplied helpfully as he dramatically slumped over the kitchen table. When she turned to Clemont he nodded as he pulled up his slightly more-inflated-than-usual bag onto the counter and gave it a firm pat, watching the puff of smoke rise from it. Well, that couldn’t have been fun to go through.

A small body threw their arms over the counter, giving Serena a wide grin. “Wait, so what did you do when we were gone?” Bonnie asked, and the former brushed her hair away from her ear as her eyes bounced to her Starter.

Fennekin yawned before standing up, walking up to her before gently rubbing her head against her leg. Serena bent down to pick her up and found herself smiling as she watched the Pokemon coo underneath Bonnie's instinctual head-patting reflexes. “Ah, just some travelling around,” she said non-comittedly, letting out a small hum afterwards. “We’ve actually got our own footage and were just waiting for all of you to come back for the final piece, but I guess we can’t really do that, can we?”

“Sorry about that,” Clemont replied, facing her with his now deflated bag next to him. He pulled out a few cups from the bag and placed it on the counter, shrugging as he added, “This is all I have left. I was planning to have it for myself just in case, but if this could help…”

She grabbed one of the cups and read the label. Instant noodles? She looked at him as Bonnie snatched the other one, and the inventor gave an awkward laugh as he turned away from the attention. Serena thought to herself, letting Fennekin pounce upon the table top and sniff it curiously. “What do you think?” she asked, and the fox purred before giving a definitive nod.

“Well,” and Ash was in front of her, giving that cocky smile that got those Vivillon aflutter in her stomach, “We’ve got the food, we’ve got the time, so let’s get recording!”

“You weren’t this enthusiastic before,” Serena said, trying to tamper that reaction as she watched Clemont fiddle with the camera on the other side of the room. The Kantonian chuckled to himself as Pikachu continued his much-deserved rest atop his pack, and Bonnie wiped the table in preparation for the ordeal of making two-minute noodles, and even if they didn’t realise it yet… this would be one of the best pictures of life they would have, with many more to come.

(“Here it is. Your video.” Even if they’ve only met this man once before, he still had that air of quiet joy with him as he turned the screen towards them. “I’ll be honest, this was the most unique blend of medium I’ve seen so far, so let me tell you, it was an honour to work with what you’ve given me. Want to watch it?”)

“You should've seen him in the maze,” Clemont said as he finally looked up from the camera, seemingly proud of his work until he saw a flash of green snatch the packet of spices. “Chespin! No! What did I say about eating that?”

(“My name is Serena, and this is my partner Fennekin!”)

“Why are you putting water in the microwave?”

“Isn’t that how you make it warm?”

Bonnie looked at him in surprise, with Clemont mouthing 'why?' behind the camera. Serena struggled to regain composure as she signalled a time out. “What’s wrong with that?” Ash asked, voice sounding forlorn as the timer ran out.

(“Every day we’re always trying out something new and learning more about the world around us. Today we’ve visited a fashion store and watched some beautiful paintings, but every day there’s always more for us to explore.”)

“I can’t open the cup! It’s stuck!”

“Ash, can you h— Actually no. I’ll open it myself.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with me holding the camera?”

“...”

(“With our friends by our side, we’re sure to find our dream, but in the meantime we’re having fun on our journey and living day by day and step by step. Whether if its making quick noodles or baking cakes, we’ll always be together, and above all I think that’s what makes our path as beautiful as it is.”)

Pikachu yawned as Dedenne played with his tail, the group of humans plus Fennekin standing around the five cups as Serena carefully poured hot water over them. Steam arose from it along with a fragrant aroma, and they all took a deep breath before breaking into a smile. “And that’s a wrap,” Clemont said as he lowered the camera, placing it on the table as he looked over at Serena. “This isn’t half bad.”

“You didn’t have to add the half, you know” she murmured underneath her breath before taking one of the cups. “Since we’ve waited this long, let’s enjoy all of these while they’re still hot.”

“Yes!” both Bonnie and Ash cried as they grabbed their own cups, Clemont sighing good-naturedly as he took his own with little fanfare.

Fennekin sniffed at the cup once more, looking at Serena pleadingly before the girl could take one of the strands up to her mouth. Smiling, she said, “I’ll give you some, don’t worry,” and the sun washed over their little corner of paradise, one that they’ve made just by being themselves.

It wasn’t necessarily planned or perfect or even confident, but it was. It existed. It happened. And everything that happened so far served to give Serena just a little bit more understanding about herself, so, well, yeah. She’s happy with what she’s got, and is excited for the future. Nothing new, but nothing old either.

It just is.

(“So, feel free to talk to us whenever you see us around: we like meeting new people and hearing your stories as well! Au revoir, and we hope to see you soon!”

‘Watch again? Yes / No’)