Archive of Our Own

Fixing things took time.

There was more to the Gym than just repairing Clembot— after all, its reputation had thoroughly sunk due to the actions that both of them had taken. Clemont wouldn’t pretend that he was a blinding example of a Gym Leader as he was, in the here and now, even before this whole fiasco began. After all, he was also harsh towards Challengers, he also preferred to speed the battle along, not one for any sort of small talk. In a way, he also had much to learn and change about himself.

Sitting in the kitchen at what most would call an ungodly hour, he fiddled with the pencil in his grip as he stared at the notebook in front of him. He needed a plan. A way forward. This whole time he has been chasing after his mistake, and now that the initial issue has been resolved, all that’s left was the cleanup afterwards.

He snorted to himself, leaning back on the chair. As if it was as simple as it sounded. His eyes caught onto the dim glow behind him and he turned around, facing the charging form of Clembot. The terminal it was plugged into was to say the least incredibly small, but it was already charged prior to their outing. This was more of a formality than anything else, and it brought a small smile to Clemont’s face before he returned his focus to his plan.

That was gone. He stifled a gasp as his gaze caught onto the looming figure in front of him as they held his notebook on the other side of the table, giving him a flat look. Clemont scrambled for an excuse— “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Did you try to sleep?” His father sat down on the opposite side, next to the notebook he confiscated, giving him a wry grin. Clemont sighed as he put his face on the table, preferring this form of discomfort.

It was… strange, talking to his dad about that. Talking to his dad at all. It made him feel vulnerable, easily read, like a child again. “I know I can’t sleep,” he rephrased, trying to sound confident. He most likely failed, considering how muffled his voice was.

His father still gave him the benefit of the doubt all the same. “So, what are you working on? Not another robot, I hope.”

“I’m not building anything, I promise.” He picked at the faint texture on the table, leaning his head on his arm. “Can’t fix the Gym that way.”

“About the Gym, huh? Well, I can tell you one thing: locking yourself back up there isn’t going to help your problem.” Clemont raised his head up and faced his father, who nodded resolutely. The latter added, “You would want to know about your city in order to make the Gym the best it can be. After all, it’s the shining point of our city. Prism Tower wouldn’t be much without it, after all.”

Clemont turned away, all that lightness switching off in an instant, leaving twisted darkness behind. “I guess…”

Meyer narrowed his eyes at his son for a few seconds, as if weighing up the need for an additional response, before shaking his head and returning the notebook. Surprised, Clemont quickly snatched it up and looked downwards. His father pursed his lips, waiting for the right moment.

There would never be a right moment. Not at this point of their relationship, anyways. “You… wanted to say something more?” He mentally berated himself for his awkward phrasing, trying to correct except none of the words came out right. All of them sounded too damaging, coming off too strongly, blunt, hard, a nail in the coffin.

And yet his father merely blinked before laughing, a little too loudly considering their guests yet a deep one all the same. He quickly shut down that particular reaction as soon as it happened but it still did happen, and Clemont was still on edge no matter what. The elder stood up and cracked his back, stretching out his arms afterwards, before finally saying something. “I’ll tell you tomorrow. No use talking about it now; after all, you’re sticking around and the time is certainly not helping much.”

“If that’s what you want.” The room was lightly lit— not sunrise yet, not by a long shot, but combining the small lamplight along with the charging Clembot nearby, the features of the people in the room were able to be picked apart by their eyes. Clemont could see the shadows on his father making him look older than he really was. He wondered what his father saw in him.

Standing up himself, he tucked the notebook beneath his arm and flashed a small smile. “I’ll just… go back, then, if that’s okay.” There were already enough disappointment for the rest of his life from yesterday, so Clemont was still operating in his people-pleasing mode. It was early in the next day, though. He deserved this small weakness, just this once.

His father nodded, letting him walk by to the stairwell but not before rubbing his head affectionately. “Sleep well, son. You’ve got a big day ahead of you tomorrow. Or should I say today.”

“I… Okay.” Gently shaking off that one piece of contact, the boy walked up towards the room he’ll be staying in.

On the last of the stairs he stopped, still feeling conflicted. Questioning. Wondering about the next step forward.

Without turning back, he said, “Um, see you tomorrow. Or later, I guess.”

There was a small pause before he heard, “See you tomorrow, Clemont, and have a good rest.”

Making breakfast was different in this particular household.

Serena woke up at a pretty respectable time all things considered, ready to start the day with some fresh food. Last night’s dinner was entirely too much for her to accept with the hearty stew and custard tart that Mr Meyer… so generously had on hand and ready for them to promptly eat. It was quite obvious that he was prepared for their arrival, even if it was late and the nature of said visit was unexpected.

But it was nice, so nice, and Serena couldn’t let that debt be left unpaid.

So she grabbed some flour, milk, eggs, everything that she needed to make some quality crepes. Since this was a personal kitchen rather than the PokéCentre, it was a lot easier to prosecure everything that she needed, especially equipment (which was interesting enough as it was— a story of different pots and pans, their usages, the people they sustained along with it). It was lucky enough that the pantry and fridge held everything she needed, but it still wasn’t enough.

No, she needed to make it perfect, worthy of the family that had so graciously welcomed her in and gave her everything she needed. Tying her hair up and pulling out her apron, she readied herself for the task at hand.

There was a sound and then footsteps from below, which quickly caught her attention in the middle of her measuring ingredients. From the set of stairs away bridging the first and second floor came out a man with tossled hair and grubby wear, whose gaze immediately zeroed in on the bowl in her hand. Meyer swallowed as he stepped further into the kitchen before saying, “Serena, was it? You’re up early.”

“It really is no trouble for me,” she replied as she slowly went back to weighing up the amount of flour she needed. There was a small cough before more footsteps followed it. She decided to add, “This is a little later than what my own maman wakes me up at, so to be honest, I may have indulged a little too much on sleep. Camping is okay, but I will never refuse good bedding. So I must thank you for that as well.”

“As well?” Suddenly beside her, she yelped as Meyer peered into the contents of the bowl and nodded. “Ah, crepes. A classic. You didn’t have to go to the effort of making it for us, you know.”

She shook her head. “Nonense! It’s the least I could do.”

“Even if I can make better ones?” At her astonished gasp, he dug a thumb into his chest proudly, literally puffing himself up. “Hey, I can make food. Got two kids, after all.”

Serena pointedly dug the wooden spoon in the mixture before twirling it around. “I did not wake up before Clemont for once just for you to take this away from me.” She made a shooing motion with her right foot, trying to push him away. “You have a whole lifetime to do that. I don’t have that luxury. So let me do what I can, please, just this once.”

A bowl slammed next to her and the measuring cups were slid away from her side of the bench. She stared at Meyer as he methodologically started to make his own batter, using every ingredient she found and placed outside on her own, and found herself fuming.

The one adult in the situation gave her a languid smile as he lightly dusted the sugar in. “I’ve got some time I need to make up of my own. So why don’t we both make some and see what the others have to say for it.”

And look. The majority of her cooking time in her journey has been axed by either sticky fingers or sticky paws/vines, so the mere fact that the only one standing in her way into making the perfect meal was one man? The father of Clemont and Bonnie at that?

“You’re on!” she spat as she whisked even harder, making sure that no lumps remained. This was going to be the world’s most perfect crepe batter in the history of Kalos, mark her words.

Meyer chuckled at her ferocity as he poured the milk in next. “You must really care about your friends to stick by this conviction, even in the face of a much easier and better alternative.”

“I owe so much to them,” she gritted out as she continued to apply the same breakneck force (while making sure that the batter stayed in the bowl— unneeded messes were the worst to clean up after). “They’ve been so kind and caring and let me in even though I was a stranger to them. And they helped me so much— with Pokémon, with camping, with supplies, everything! Even though I’ve never been able to find the right angle to repay them for it. Making this is the least I can do to balance it out.”

“You mean it?” At the glare Serena shot him, Meyer slowed down his own mixing. “I’m not doubting you, it’s just… Thank you for letting me know.”

“...You’re welcome.”

The sound of whisks banging against the side of plastic bowls filled the space between them.

(Serena thought about asking him a question. She held herself back because that is not her parent, and it’s been a week since she’s contacted her own. And because she probably overshared as well.)

The ignition lit up and the pan was set on the stove.

Morning came, and with it the sweet smell of breakfast.

Wandering down the stairs, Ash was greeted with the sight of both Meyer and Serena making some sort of pancakes, quickly making a small pile to the side of them before pouring in another batter. Without looking up Meyer said, “Ash, is that you? Mind taking some of my crepes?”

“Don’t take his!” Serena gritted out as she flipped hers with a single-minded precision that may have made the Kantonian worried. Sitting on a seat he then turned to the others on the same table, giving them a questioning look.

“They are both participating in a competition to make the best crepe,” Clembot helpfully supplied as it neatly arranged the available toppings on the table. Bonnie shrugged as she pulled the jam closer to herself, her own plate already having evidence of her familiarity of the flavours with the contents of said jam smeared all over. Clembot narrowed its eyes at her. She stuck her tongue out at it before digging into her breakfast.

Ash laughed as he leaned back, enjoying the scene. He quickly found his plate being filled with crepes, somehow separated into two piles even though there was no visible difference to him. Shrugging, he decided to dig in, finding it plain tasting bland (and getting yelled at by the resident chefs) before deciding to add some cream.

Today was going to be a good day, he could just feel it. Sure, he didn’t get to have a Gym Battle like he hoped, but in the aftermath of yesterday's events had left him contemplating a lot. It’s not everyday that a Gym Leader was one of your friends, after all.

Not in the way that it usually happened for him, anyways.

Somehow, even though he’s come to Lumiose three separate times, Ash has found himself blown away by what ends up happening with each arrival. Jumping off Prism Tower. Following through a kidnapping plot involving the Professor. Regaining the Gym within Prism Tower itself. Though all the danger had passed, Ash still made sure to stock himself up with as much helpings as he could get to imbue his body with the required energy for the day. Just in case.

Even if the looks he garnered from everyone were becoming more worried with every extra portion he claimed.

“Ash, you have taken more than four times the recommended calorie intake for breakfast,” Clembot had fretted as Ash groaned, his latest piece just pushed through his struggling mouth.

Meyer glanced back with an intrigued hum, one hand holding the pan. “Not that I’m exactly complaining… But does he usually get like this?”

Bonnie followed her father’s gaze as she put her plate in the sink, sighing to herself. “All the time! He’s always such a glutton, even Serena—”

“Thinks that it’s so great that he is so full of energy!” Serena gritted through her teeth as she poured the next bit of batter in. Sneaking a glance backwards, she then adopted a more softer look and tone. “…Even though it would be better if he would take it easy today. There’s no rush, right, Ash?”

The sound that came out of his mouth was unintelligible in the worst of ways. The people (and robot) recoiled at that, quickly finding an excuse to look away and busy themselves with something else. Just at that moment Pikachu wandered towards him— having finally finished his portion and now nosing around the ground to find any flavoured crumbs. 

Ash, whose body locked up at the previous question, ended up loosening oh so slightly as he picked up the body of a friend that was always on his side, from day one until now. Laughing a little as he felt those tiny claws prick on his lap, he let himself lean back on the chair, separate from everyone else’s looks.

(And for a moment, it felt like he was behind everyone, all over again. Not belonging, not acting, not being what they want him to be.)

He shook his head before swallowing the last mouthful, Pikachu quickly scuttling upwards to his faithful perch as Ash finally pulled himself out of the seat. “Thanks for the meal, everyone, I’ve really enjoyed it!”

“Where are you going?” Bonnie asked flatly, looking at him from the corner of her eyes. He gave her a wave in reply as he danced away from the table, before forlornly gazing at the newest crepe placed on the communal plate.

Serena gave him a sturdy look as she held the pan up, Ash pausing his jaunty walk to the stairs. “Ash…”

He threw his hands up in the air, one leg still up in an exaggerated pose. “You know that I don’t like standing still! It’s a new day, and a new chance for something great to happen.”

“Like what?” she said in exasperation, trying to fight back a smile.

“A battle! A new Pokémon!” Putting his foot down on the ground, he found himself getting more excited with every new prospect. “Or maybe some good food, or a cool person, or, or—”

“Can you keep the volume down?” Clemont groaned as he walked down the other set of stairs, rubbing his eyes as Clembot followed behind him. Somehow, that had happened— and Ash was left confused at how one robot could disappear like that— but quickly shook it off to take advantage of a sleepy Clemont, rubbing his head with a laugh before dipping down the stairs, twin exclamations following in his wake.

“Pikapi,” Pikachu advised as Ash ran down to ground floor, opening the door of the shop and closing it behind them as he embraced the new day. Both of them squinted against the strong sunlight, flooding their view with golden, and even then Ash couldn’t help but smile.

He let his tongue smooth over his teeth as he murmured, “A new day…” underneath his breath, everything so bright and open and ready for him to conquer.

To make every step of his journey worth it, from now to the end.

The morning was new and there was someone missing at the table.

While Ash went through his ninth serving, his ears had caught the sound of creaking before his eyes had watched the metallic body at the corner of his vision stand up. “Where are you going?” he tried to say, his words mostly indecipherable despite his best efforts.

Clembot blinked at him before facing the stairs. “Master hasn’t come down yet. It is 9:30 AM. Analysis provides little recourse beyond visitation.”

Ash blinked back at it, narrowing his eyes as he continued to chew through his latest bite. Serena called out, “He’s probably just working on something. Clemont’s always an early riser.”

“Did you know that he’s also a late sleeper too?” Meyer added, flashing them a cheeky grin. “Caught him just last night myself. Feel free to check on him, but don’t be too loud, okay?” Flipping the top of his stack onto Bonnie’s waiting plate, he then hummed a small tune as Clembot nodded in understanding and went upwards.

The stairs haven’t seen as much traffic as it had this morning, and even notwithstanding that, Clembot was a wary being. Some part remnant code and some part experience, it went up slowly, methodologically, one foot above the other, then on the same step, then repeat.

Because Clembot was big. Because the stairs were small. And because it must not be ‘too loud’.

Squeezing itself upwards, it adjusted its sensory hardware to the uppermost floor’s lighting. Dim, yet not wholly dark. There was a window opening up to the side of the building, and Clembot took the opportunity to look out and observe Lumiose City from the angle it offered until— bzzt— it remembered its mission.

Check on Clemont. That should be manageable, now that there were only metres between them.

Locating the door was easy. Opening it was slightly harder, due to the inherent creak in its joints (just like itself). 

“Oh! And remember to knock too.”

Oops. Pulling the door back, Clembot went to rap at it gently, not making ‘too much noise’, before listening for the response.

There was none.

Pushing it open once more before peering in, there wasn’t much movement noted within the room. It was far darker than expected, which caused Clembot to fiddle with its eyesight once more before stepping in. There was a couch with a blanket pulled away, the mere wisp of a heat signature upon it. Beside it laid a futon on the ground. There was a body perched upon that, and without any further ado Clembot walked in, making a beeline towards the person before stopping right in front of them.

Blond hair, glasses folded neatly beside him, nose barely peaking outside of the blanket. It was at such odds with the vision of the boy from yesterday, the leader from 19 hours ago, give or take, and it was a novel experience for the robot itself. Gently, carefully, Clembot murmured, “Master, it is time to wake up.”

There was a groan there. A response if anything. “It is 9:54 AM, Saturday. To sleep past 10 AM will result in the establishment of an irregular circadian cycle.”

Clemont still did not stir. Moving a hand forward, Clembot then let it hover above the warm body before it. Should it initiate contact? Try to wake him in another manner? Slowly resting it on the blanket, right where his shoulder was, the robot was hit with a wave of… something inexplicable.

Its internal fans started to whirr in the silence, and Clembot stood still as it tried to recognise and catagorise the feeling. Contact. Trust. Clemont’s eyes started to open, thin slits with his blue irises peeking through, and that sensation went into overdrive as its hand slipped away.

Thankfully, its master was nothing if not observant. “Clembot? …I must’ve overslept, haven't I?”

“It is 9:59 AM,” it supplied helpfully, if not a little delayed. 

“Thanks for waking me, then.” The human pulled himself into a sitting position and stretched, the striped clothing he wore stretching with his actions, before cracking his fingers, his wrist, and then put his hand on the back of his neck and cracking that too. Clembot watched this ritual with narrow-minded focus, trying to memorise it. After grabbing his glasses, Clemont opened his mouth before putting a finger up and yawning. After that, he finally said, “Well, we should probably be getting down now, shouldn’t we?”

Clembot blinked. Down(stairs). That’s right. Everyone else was down there too, weren’t they? “Indeed, Master.”

“There’s no need to call me that.”

“Okay, master.”

Clemont squinted at him for a few seconds, before turning away with a sigh and rubbing his eyes underneath the glasses. “There’s crepes downstairs, isn’t it?”

Watching as the master stood up, Clembot nodded. And then added, just in case, “Correct, sir. Both Meyer and Serena are participating in a competition to make the best crepe. Having your presence will tip the scale by approximately 33.3% based on human sensibilities.”

“Of course they would.” Curious— the tone conveyed appreciation where the words had stated otherwise. Clemont walked over to the closet and opened it, before a sharp rise of temperature occurred and he turned towards the robot, his cheeks lighting up with the increased blood flow. “Ah, Clembot, I need to dress before I get down.”

“Okay, sir.”

“…I need to be alone for this.”

{>Humans need to be alone when dressing …} —Clembot gave a sharp nod before turning towards the door and marching outwards, closing the door behind it and then waiting.

It is fine with waiting.

After this ‘dress’ and consumption of breakfast, there will be the whole day ahead of them, and that will always be something new.

The Gym: tall, blinding, utterly painful.

Clemont still felt that nagging need to hide himself even after everything that’s happened, his posture quickly devolving the more time he spent on the streets— if it weren’t for Clembot beside him, he would’ve risked taking a taxi and hoping that he could hide underneath the seats. So when they finally got to Prism Tower all he felt was relief, especially since he could finally access the elevator once more, forging the public spaces of the vents

The Gym needed some cleaning after their last match. So did the workshop. The Pokémon needed some exercise, and the pantry needed restocking. Some of the structures within the tower were in need of dire repair, and that was organised as well.

The worst part was all of that was the easy part.

Standing in the kitchen for a well-deserved break as he watched Chespin popping out of the cupboard as Magneton tried to close it, Clemont let out a sigh. Clembot blinked at him expectantly, and he tried to put all of his feelings to words once more. “I don’t think anything I do will be enough.”

“May I inquire further as to the reasoning of your statement?”

Clemont adjusted his position leaning back against the counter. “It’s just… My mistake. It affected a lot of challengers that I can’t necessarily track, and even if I do, it’s not like they’ll listen to me.” His eyes tracked Emolga lying on the overhead lightning, his tail flicking about in contentment as he absorbed some of the electricity running through the bulb. “Not to say that I didn’t hurt you either.”

“It is okay, sir. I forgive you.”

Was it bad that his heart seized in his chest at those words? Trying to stick a smile after hearing those words, the boy shook his head. “Thanks, Clembot.” He then quietened down, looking down at his hands and rubbing that old scar with the opposite thumb. “It’s nice that you feel that way…”

There was a chirrup and Clemont’s gaze fell to Heliolisk, who was giving him a narrowed look. “Hey there, little one,” he said, pulling his hands away and bending down to pet the Pokémon. Heliolisk flared his frills and started to growl before the hand rested on his head, slow and gentle, and then the Electric-Type stood stock still. 

Clemont still noticed the reaction, no matter how brief it was. There was a click beside him before he heard the voice. “Heliolisk seems to be agitated.”

The Generator Pokémon snapped his frills back and clucked at Clembot, who gave a minute shrug. “It is true, is it not?”

“It’s alright, I can tell.” Clemont stood up and brushed himself and the weakness off. Sparing a glance at the Pokémon, one of his, or least before he used to be, the Gym Leader shook his head. “I understand, though. I haven’t really been caring towards all of you as well. There’s a lot I need to make up for.”

Heliolisk slammed his tail on the ground before turning his snout up, facing away from Clemont. Clembot went to crouch down and pat his head, and Heliolisk, the little rascal, leaned into it before positively purring.

And Clemont wasn’t jealous. Not at all.

Because he deserved it. Because it was his fault. Because he has a lot to make up for, and this distance is also his distance, away from everyone and everything so that they don’t see the cracks in the inventor lighting up the world.

Because all he should do is give light.

Because all he should do is give battles, products, finished things, working things, useful things.

Because all he should do is give them himself, the all of it. The perfected version.

(He clenched his fists at his side, watching love in front of him, no longer marred by his influence. Caused by his absence.

What could he do about it?)

“I… need to check on the generators,” he found himself saying— an empty sound, an echo, devoid of feeling. Everyone in the room paused their activities at his words, eyes peering up at him, and he felt like he was underneath a spotlight with the attention multiplied, mere shadows with heavy expectations. He swallowed before adding, “For maintenance. Just in case.”

Clembot tilted its head at him, moving its hand away from Heliolisk to reach towards him instead. “Are you su—”

“I’m sure,” he snapped before recoiling, his view full of the consequences of his actions (the Gym Pokémon freezing up, his new team looking away, Clembot putting that hand down to the ground, the internal whirring of its engine the only sound following that explosion).

(And was it fair to inflict them with his presence? Just the way that he was now?)

He walked out of the kitchen, quickly hiding his face away from the group as he made his hasty exit.

(Of course, the door was left open in his absence, and of course someone would follow.)

(For once in a long time, that feeling of worthlessness creeped back into his chest. 

Over and over again. What could he do about it?)

“I’m fine, really.”

It was remarkable how skeptical Bunnelby can look. Nudging at Clemont with his ears, the Pokémon let out a small sound.

And was it so bad that he didn’t want to start being a Gym Leader so soon? Is it so bad that he didn’t feel ready to be one in the first place, after everything that’s happened by his hand and more? “It’s just that, well, I don’t want to leave everyone behind,” he murmured, staring at the prismatic structures as they pulsed with light. “Not like this.”

“Bun?”

He spared the Normal-Type a quick look. “You know I can’t do that. The Gym… That’s where I belong. And I got it back now.” He gazed around them, his eyes tracing the massive cavernous room all around him. “My journey is over, right?” And the clean-up has just begun. What does it matter what he wanted when the city relied on him like this?

There was a skittering sound followed by a low hiss. Clemont stiffened up, recognising who it was, and yet all Bunnelby did was languidly paw at his ear. 

“Heliooo…” Out of the shadows came out Heliolisk, long legs and pointed snout coming into view. Clemont’s heart beat in his chest a thumping beat, all those insecurities and worries floating up to the surface in such a way that it was a wonder he was still standing, or sitting, or even in the moment.

(Lightning, explosion, glowing, hate hate hate. He deserved it, after all)

But all Heliolisk did was keep his distance, frills down and eyes locked onto his location. A minute passed. The human found his breath return, some part of it owed to Bunnelby’s help by cooing and tapping his knee every few seconds, an even pace. 

Because he was still so weak. And because he’s also a little scared, and powerless over his reactions at times. And because there was a sea between himself and the Gym, even after all this time.

“I— You can come, you know. Don’t mind us!” He added a small laugh at the end, but then he felt a curled fist bump his knee next and he knew that nobody really believed it. Sighing, he tapped the area next to him, facing Heliolisk with what he was right now. Not as the Gym Leader. Not as the genius inventor. Not as anything at all. “...Please.”

“Li.” Somewhat offputted by it all, Heliolisk dragged himself to the opposite side of Bunnelby and curled up nearby, not facing Clemont once more. And that was fair. And Clemont really didn’t deserve grace, not after everything he’s done.

There wasn’t much to do in one of the many backrooms of Prism Tower. The lights all around them pulsed, and time ticked on, and his mind couldn’t stop returning to the problem at hand. He fixed the Gym. He also hasn’t. 

“And there’s still so much I want to do…” he found himself muttering, the words slipping out of his mouth before he could realise. Both Pokémon faced him and he instinctively bit his lip, staring forward and attempting to empty his mind of all thoughts.

A tail whacked the side of his thigh and he found himself facing Heliolisk all the same though, the Electric-Type glaring at him before clucking in that usual annoyed manner. Clemont tried to shrug it off but the lizard slapped the hand guarding the leg, before slipping by the hands trying to grab the tail and swiping by his face.

Then they both froze.

Bunnelby’s ears twitched in interest, tilting his head at the scene.

Clemont went to salvage the situation. “Look, I know I haven’t been the best but that doesn’t mean you get to—”

“Helio-lisk!”

He stopped, staring down one of his (used to be his) Pokémon. “Stop,” he clearly enunciated.

Heliolisk didn’t even give him the honour of getting up from his curled-up position. “Li-isk!”

“Don’t play dumb with me!”

“Heli-heli lisk, lisk!”

“Are you copying me?” At the resulting silence, Clemont slumped and faced away. “Of course you are.” The tail flicked at him again and he found himself biting back a growl. “Can you stop it?”

That got Heliolisk’s attention— Because finally the lizard was facing him, sinous neck upright and eyes half-lidded as he trilled lowly. Clemont readied himself for a confrontation, eyes tracking the tail as it retracted, as the half Normal-Type walked over to him before… curling up in his lap?

Clemont couldn’t believe it, honestly. His hands were wrenched away from that place, hanging in front of him as he instinctively sucked in his stomach, making more room for Heliolisk to lounge braced between his two legs. “Heliolisk…”

The lizard opened one of his eyes at him as it tiredly chirped. Bunnelby sat down next to the boy before curling up himself, and it could be said that the Gym Leader of Lumiose was stuck supporting two sleepy Pokémon by his side.

And it was nice. It felt nice.

“I guess I can stay here. Just a little longer. If you like.” Heliolisk shook his head. “No? Do you want me to leave? I get it if— Don’t slap me again.” The lizard rolled his eyes before clucking, gesturing with his head. Clemont followed it to see his bag sitting by the far corner of the room, where he had put his tools in for easy access. At least now it was easy access. Before, through the journey that he briefly took part in, it was all he had. “You… want that?”

“Lisk, heli.” That was a dismissive answer if there were any. But… It was a start. And maybe…

Clemont sighed as he grounded himself in the sensation of warm bodies lying on him. Near him. Next to him. “I want to keep learning. I’ve learnt so much, before, but I know there’s more out there. So much more, in fact! And I’m sure if I keep travelling… I could be a better Gym Leader, for real this time. Maybe learn to balance my life as well.”

The walk to Santalune— he would’ve never walked anywhere on his own two feet, but he did. Watching a Gym Battle as a spectator, seeing losses but also wins, the other side of the traditions his world was entrenched in. The Battle Chateau and the talk that he got from someone who knew, someone who knew the terrible things that he’s done and didn’t hate him for it, and the steps that followed afterwards.

And all the while, he had his friends and Pokémon. Caring for him, sticking by him, always there. “I want to make it worth it for everyone who believes in me,” Clemont said, looking down at his Pokémon. They looked back up at him as well, promises glittering in their eyes, and maybe that was a reflection of his own desires.

To be better. That’s all he can do, right now. To make the Gym better than it was before.

He found himself yawning and he stretched out his arms, starling Heliolisk out of his lap and accidentally causing Bunnelby to slide off his knee and end up lying on the ground instead with a dazed look. Clemont couldn’t help but laugh at what happened, helping the latter up before standing up himself, brushing off his clothes before fixing up his glasses. “Sorry, both of you, but I can’t stay here forever. There’s still some work to be done.”

The two Pokémon turned to each other with a concentrated look, as if conspiring against him. Then, all of a sudden, Heliolisk darted out to snatch his bag before dragging it away—

“Hey, don’t do that, there are some fragile items in there!”

—into the elevator—

“Bunnelby, stop him!”

—before pressing a button within it and letting the doors close.

Clemont stared at the elevator as it chimed, chugging sounds following afterwards, slack-jawed and befuddled beyond belief.

The Battle Spots: fast-paced, action-filled, and bursting with motion.

Now, see, Ash didn’t mean to stumble upon it at first— He was walking around and enjoying the sights as one should do, since he… didn’t really leave much time to actually look at Lumiose. He got a real laugh out of Professor Oak on his lastest call just shy of half an hour ago, having finally found the time to show off Fletchling and talk about his progress when he realised how he seemed to only be keeping contact in this one city.

And the fact that he didn’t even know this city well enough.

Well, that changed today. There was enough time to explore and see what was around, and maybe even sneak in some practice while doing so. Even Pikachu was getting fired up, his cheeks barely keeping in their crackle as the two of them stared determinedly forward, to the battle taking place.

There was a Rhyperior shooting out rocks towards a very agile Sigilyph, the latter weaving through what could’ve been a super-effective Rock Wrecker and then following it up with a blast of glittering green energy. Energy Ball. This Pokémon knew what it was doing.

The two people battled it out with their Pokémon as others watched, egging on their favoured Trainer as moves collided, missed, or otherwise set up the terrain for the next one. Ash could barely hold himself back when the outcome was finally determined— the Rhyperior needing only one good shot to finally knock the Sigilyph down to the ground, and once the two Trainers shook hands and everyone else talked it out, the Kantonian finally stepped forward. 

“Hey!” Ash said to the Rhyperior Trainer, giving him a smile, “Are you free for a battle?”

The Trainer shrugged as he got up from administering the Potion to his partner, rolling his shoulders. A boy with fine clothing and a slight sneer. “With a Pikachu? I would need something more substantial to qualify calling it a battle.”

Pikachu squeaked angrily by his shoulder, and Ash felt off-balance for a second. A flash from his belt materialised as a blue frog on the ground, and in a complete foil to the noise from above Froakie kept his silence. Not his composure though, as his Frubbles bubbled and popped around his neck. 

“Ooh, I think the kid is asking for a Double Battle!” someone called out, and the crowd quickly rose up in volume as the rich boy huffed and started to pull out another Pokéball.

Another flash, and a bulky Electivire came out. “Would you reconsider now?”

Ash shook his head and beamed, Pikachu jumping to the ground and standing by Froakie. “Nah, this is even cooler than before! I didn’t know you had an Electivire too! Man, you must be all kinds of powerful.”

“Well, I did train for some time—”

“But that’s not going to stop us! Froakie, use Water Pulse on Rhyperior and Pikachu, use Quick Attack on Electivire.” Just as quickly his Pokémon burst into action, the blustering words of the boy lost in the movements as his Pokémon paid for that lapse in judgement. The boy growled as he then ordered his Pokémon to use their own moves and the battle went on, as fun as it could be, for however long it did.

Of course Froakie was going to be a little difficult in this one. Ash knew that the Water Type had a mind of his own, following his own ideas of a battle than what a Trainer would opt for. While he didn’t contend the moves Ash called for this time, there was another problem at bay.

“Not at Electivire!”

Froakie would always attack a different target.

At the end of the battle, the boy recalled his Pokémon before cleaning them with a wipe. Pikachu shook off droplets of water as Froakie turned away, uninterested as he always seemed, and Ash sighed as he picked up the frog. “What did you think you were doing? Pikachu can protect himself, you know?”

“Fro, fro.” A very dismissive response. Ash shook his head before looking up at his opponent, giving them a small grin. “Thanks for the battle, we’ve appreciated it.”

“You weren’t half as puny as I would’ve imagined, new Trainer.” At Ash’s blank look, he jabbed a finger towards the Froakie in his hands. “You’re a new Trainer, aren’t you? And I’ve heard stories about a difficult Starter around here…”

Ash let out an awkward laugh. “No, but it hasn’t been too long since I’ve been in Kalos, so you’re half right. Froakie and I are just working on our battling style, that’s all.”

The boy sighed as he pocketed his Pokéballs. “That’s all well and good, but you’ll never be able to truly be the best if you don’t work in sync with your Pokémon, no matter how many battles you take on.”

Those words stuck around longer than that battle did, that’s for sure.

The thing about Battle Spots were that, unlike the Battle Chateau, there were no terms of chivalry to be observed. One could bring any amount of Pokémon to a battle, even if the number is unbalanced— though Ash did steer clear of those ones. You could ask for repeats, although it was just as likely you could be rejected for them. People battled as little or as much they wanted, with whatever team they had. He watched some, participated in others: against those with specific Types, with moves that they tended to use, whatever it was. He himself tended to stick with one-on-one as much as he could, switching out the Pokémon so they all got equal experience— it was easier that way, to improve on their individual strengths before… moving to several targets. 

Getting stronger was good but Double Battles were definitely a little above the level of his new Pokémon, and he could recognise that for what it is. There was no rush after all (until there was) (but that was neither here nor now).

And win or lose, Ash’s interest in battling only got more stoked. Well, lose and all he did was throw himself at another person, no matter how the optics were. To mixed results, the most obvious one winning out in the end.

His familiarity with the city was still so-so, regardless of said results.

Ash sighed as he leaned against the wall, Pikachu scrambling to not get his tail flattened atop his usual shoulder-side perch. The mouse turned to him and squeaked tiredly, eyes boring into his own, and Ash shrugged. “Sorry about that, buddy.”

“Chuuu…” After another grueling moment under the glare, Pikachu hopped off his shoulder and meandered around, ears perked up and tail standing straight. Ash followed him because of course he would, and all the while he kept his own ears and eyes out for the way back to… Meyer’s place, he guessed. They were still staying there, right?

The alleyways stretched on forever. There were so many branching paths, and just as many possibilities around them. Sometimes they would pass by other Pokémon and either Ash or Pikachu would try to talk to them to varying degrees of success. In any case, they were firmly nowhere near an actual Battle Spot, which was possibly a good thing, or any familiar residential areas, which was definitely a bad thing. The amount of warehouses they’ve walked past was uncanny, to say the least. This was the supposed fashion capital Serena was talking about? Then where were the shops?

A gurgling stomach interrupted his thoughts, and Ash slumped down to the ground. Didn’t this place also have great food or something? “Ugh. I can’t keep going on.”

“Pikapi.” Pikachu nudged him. The Trainer didn’t move. Pikachu frowned, because he was the one physically battling and not Ash, and yet here they were.

In an alleyway.

Doing nothing.

It was as interesting as watching paint dry.

There was a sound and Pikachu's ears perked up, his head turning upwards to where the sky was blocked by two buildings boxing them in. Wearily Ash did the same and both of them gasped as two pairs of feet jumped the gap above them, but not exactly to the other side…

Ash turned to Pikachu, vitality restored in his eyes as sparkles. “You saw that, right?”

An amused, “Pi,” answered him.

Scrambling up to his feet and following the shadows that yawned somewhere in front of them, Ash ran forward with quietude and intrigue. The quickness, the heat, it reminded him of something familiar, somehow. At some point the shadows stopped and his pace quickened, not wanting to miss out on who was there.

Whatever Lumiose had to offer, he’d take it with open arms. And this was definitely something worth talking about, in any case.

The masked person was standing adjacent to three different paths, turning to the sound of footsteps before freezing in place, the Blaziken beside him levelling the duo with a steady gaze. Except, well, the Blaziken was looking different from any other one of its kind at any given time— that Ash has seen, has battled with and against. And the recognition within those eyes, sharp and piercing even as flames fluttered from its wrists.

Ash couldn’t believe it. It’s real. They’re real. “The Mega Blaziken… It is you!”

Forgoing any sort of common courtesy, Ash launched himself forward with a thousand questions, quick and overlapping and so, so many. Pikachu tiredly managed to catch up and slumped on the ground with an exhausted whine, letting the sun bathe him before smelling something very appetising. Looking up he found a Sitrus Berry in front of him, the Mega Blaziken nudging it forward with a low cluck, and left with a delicious treat he slowly moved himself forward and started to chomp.

In the middle of his long-winded spiel, the superhero pulled a gloved hand out and let it stay in the air, right in front of Ash. “Hold it, kid.” Ash’s voice quickly petered out as his eyes narrowed, realising that for all that he’s seen of the hero (and it was a very short time indeed), he’s never really heard them speak.

He knew the name of them though, through the news broadcasts that looped around the same topic as he helped clean up some of the rubble back at Professor Sycamore’s place. Shifting his weight around, Blaziken Mask’s gaze rested solely on him as he put his hand down. “I’m glad to see you so full of energy, but you really shouldn’t be leaving your Pokémon in such a state.”

Oh. Did he think… Ash shook his head as he said, “No, I mean, well, you see, we were doing some battles and were just about to head to the Pokémon Centre before we got just a little lost.”

“A little lost.” Even the Blaziken looked disbelieving.

Ash nodded. “Yeah! And then we saw you, and that’s when we ran just before now. But still, I shouldn’t have left you behind, buddy.” He bent down to give Pikachu a rub between the ears, and smiled at the happy sounds he made. Looking up at the hero, he gave a short laugh. “We wouldn’t mind a little help, though. Those battles were fun, but also a lot of work.”

“That’s one way to explain the problem. I would advise you to take more caution when it comes to Battle Spots though, especially if all of your Pokémon are weary afterwards.” Blaziken Mask eyed his partner, who chuffed before stepping forward. The heat swirling around the Blaziken was unreal— it was like an all time record-high contained within two walls, within one body, the result of something that this region has to offer. The hero then offered a hand towards Ash, posture steady and unwavering. “The nearest Pokémon Centre isn’t too far. Just take a left and pass through two intersections to make a right and you’ll be right beside it.”

“A left… straight two times… then right…” Ash counted on his fingers before losing his focus as Pikachu scrambled up to his usual perch once more, laughing at the sensation. “Thanks a lot, Blaziken Mask! We would’ve been stuck here for ages if it wasn’t for your help.” Unthinkingly he took the hand offered to him, deciding it was better to just wing it, but— It was the first time he touched this person as well.

And the grip was strong. Firm. The grip of someone who has attained higher power and mastered it, able to do good without suffering the harm, the kind of effortlessly unbothered coolness that seemed so unobtainable.

Ash locked eyes with him as he finally got upright, trying to figure out the mystery in front of him. Blaziken Mask let go as soon as he stood up, turning forward and repeating the instructions, his Pokémon partner nudging them along. And Ash had only taken two steps before hearing a whooshing sound, a strong breeze hitting his back and forcing him to stumble an extra two more before he managed to turn back.

“Don’t worry about it. Just make sure that you stay safe, young man.”

Those words echoed alongside the visage of their shadows, the last thing Ash saw of them before they vanished for good.

(Of course, he did manage to get to the Pokémon Centre. And then get chewed out by the Nurse Joy there, who did not look impressed at his winning or losing streak at the backends of Lumiose City.)

(Of course, it was the same thing. Winning, losing, getting lost or finding someone, new or old, becoming stronger, stronger, stronger. For different reasons, but it was all the same to Ash. Together or alone.

Well, always together. Him and his Pokémon, to the top. Winning, winning, strongest.)

The streets: long, winding, and completely alien to any other place she’s ever been.

Serena knew that Lumiose was all of the most interesting parts of Kalos all bundled up into one beautiful, gorgeous hub, but it was one thing knowing it and quite another to experience it. Since her night was a mess of dreams too gossomer to touch and her breakfast devolved into a cooking contest, this walk was for her peace of mind.

Because she didn’t know what the future would bring. Because everything was changing, so fast and too fast, and she still had no idea of what to pursue.

But the cafes were nice. And some of the boutiques genuinely gave her some ideas for designs, and she saw one street sign point the way to the Lumiose Museum, and there was that enthusiastic girl with a Chespin narrowly missing a collision with her who reminded Serena of her own adventures in the Pokémon Laboratory nearby, and there was a small group huddled at one rooftop pointing at the different Flying-Types that fluttered on the horizon. So there was still some promise. There was still something out there for her, if she just kept looking for it.

Finding herself peering at a massive ad playing on the billboard opposite herself, she didn’t notice a pair of footsteps walking towards her. Serena’s eyes were purely on the monochromatic display of a new movie coming out soon before a loud bark caught her attention, followed by a Pokémon skidding in front of her. The Furfrou was styled with pale yellow ink and fur trimmed to look like a broad-brimmed hat on its head, and it gave her a low ruff before looking behind her.

“Furfrou, what did I say about— Wait, is that…” A young woman was running towards them before slowing down, her red beret offsetting against her short blue hair and cheery yellow shirt. The pockets by her side held a lot less implements than what could be expected, revealing a more precise use for the ones that were within it. Sky-blue eyes caught her own, surprise and a bit of recognition glimmering within.

And Serena gasped. “Jessica?”

“Serena! It’s been too long, mon ami.” The Coiffeuse ran over to hug her friend for a few seconds before separating, beaming at her afterwards. In the time since they have parted it seemed that Jessica became a lot more self-assured with her posture and countenance, seemingly free of the fears and doubts that had previously clouded her. Even Furfrou seemed to trust her more as he stood by her side with a different style to how Serena remembered it. “I never in a hundred years would’ve expected to meet you again like this.”

“Me too! It’s been far too long, actually,” Serena found herself gushing, still feeling giddy with the warm surprise of the reunion. She turned her head to see another person nearby, a woman with a green kerchief on her head and a red pinafore over her blue-grey underclothing with the sharp brown eyes. “Is that…”

Jessica followed her movement and waved a hand out in a show of reassurance, moving to stand between the two. “Ah, you haven’t met before, have you? Serena, this is Mercy: a Breeder who travels a lot and who has helped me to get into the Pokémon Grooming business with her connections. She’s a mentor of sorts to the likes of me.”

“Once again ascribing your own skills to others. You still have a way to go, chaton.” Mercy’s mouth barely twitched, and yet, there was a bit of that mirth in her voice. Looking from Jessica to Serena, she said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Serena. I’ve heard nothing but good from Jess over here, and I can see where she got the impression.”

“Mercy!” Jessica yelped, her cheeks pinking with shame. 

“I am just saying it as it is,” the older woman said in reply. Serena laughed, a little guilty but also happy for the recognition from someone, for the fact that she was actually recognised and loved as she was, and her heart steeled itself just a little more.

She’ll make it worth it. She really will.

Bending down to pat Furfrou, who was clearly asking for it despite turning his nose up under her touch, Serena looked up at the duo before her. “So, what brings you two to Lumiose?”

Jessica shrugged as Mercy sighed. “There’s lots of wild Pokémon around lately, and I’m here to see if I can help them. Jess followed along because she thought it was high time she visited some other parlours, although I have some doubts on that.” A side-eye.

“You remember Mr Sherman, right?” Serena nodded and Jessica continued, pointedly ignoring Mercy’s gaze. “He told me that there was another Pokémon Groomer around here, apparently she used to tutor him back then as well. I’ve sent her a message a while ago and she’s finally accepted it, so I’m going to be spending the next few weeks under her tutelage. Being with Mercy is just to give me the confidence to go in.”

“See what I mean? A complete scaredy-Meowth.” Mercy elbowed her and Jessica winced, moving away with a glare. “It’s not like someone is going to jump out of nowhere—”

“Prepare for trouble, that remains to be seen!”

“And make that double, we’re here to make a scene!”

“Meowth’s here to say what you’ve said was quite mean!” Serena found herself deflating at the words, turning around to see— what a surprise!— Team Rocket in front of them. With Jessica’s Furfrou in a net. Because they just cannot keep their hands away from other people’s Pokémon.

Pulling out a Pokéball as the Coiffeuse cried out in alarm, Fennekin entered the battle with her flames at the ready. “Don’t worry, Jessica,” Serena said, voice low. “They’re just bad people who always cause trouble.”

“Not for you, Twerpette, although we’re tempted to make an exception.” Jessie stepped forward and brought out Pumpkaboo, pointing a hand forward. “After all, can’t pass up the chance for an adorable Fennekin alongside this stylish Furfrou we’ve been scouting. Now, Pumpkaboo, use Shadow Ball!”

“Fennekin, go with Ember!” Fennekin yipped as she spat out hot flecks of fire towards the shadowy blob, just barely cancelling out the attack. Serena put a hand to her chest, feeling her heart thudding (because she’s never fought them off on her own before!) as she then threw out that hand and added, “Now Double Team, let’s go!”

“Not so fast! Psybeam, Inkay, with extra class!” There was a blast of blue and Fennekin appeared from the smoke looking dazed, shaking off the impact with a low whine. Besides Pumpkaboo was the Revolving Pokémon, who looked just about as gleeful as its Trainer. James, throwing out a rose from somewhere in the midst of their motto, went to fling his own hands out as he called for the same attack again, eyes narrowed on ther next prize.

And it was all Serena could do to tell Fennekin to dodge, to watch out for the next Shadow Ball that cut off her path, to use Ember to at least knock one of their opponents down. With every artful dodge Pumpkaboo became more vexed, puffing out steam and sending out attacks more frequently, in a barrage of energy-sucking seeds or circular spheres of darkness, and Fennekin would have to pivot towards using Scratch as a way to stop them. In a cornered moment one of the Ember attacks flashed a curious blue, full of power and strength, and it fizzled out just as quickly against Inkay’s Tackle, almost seeming like a trick of the light.

A moment so strange, they didn’t notice the next attack—

“Use Moonblast!”

But the blast of shimmering light that intercepted it was enough. A massive bird with brown plumage and cream-coloured horns on its head screeched out a warning as it then flung the netting it grabbed over the steaming Pumpaboo, frightening Inkay enough that a well-timed Charge Beam from the freed Furfrou was able to knock it down. Mercy stepped forward next to Serena, giving her a small nod before turning to the trio of bandits. “I would say shame on you for stealing Pokémon, but I take that you are no strangers to shame. Do you still wish to battle now that we have evened the odds, thieves?”

Meowth hissed as he readied his claws, but Wobbuffet held him back. Jessie rolled her eyes at them as she waved a hand out dismissively. “You haven’t evened out squat. You’ve just stole from us, which in fact makes you even worse than thieves.” Eyeing the growling Furfrou, she wrinkled her nose. “Though now that I’m getting a better view, I don’t think that hairball will look so beautiful on our record.”

“I think it’s cute.”

“You think that Unown are cute, James.”

“You’re both forgetting something!” Meowth cried. When the two humans looked back at him, the Scratch Cat Pokémon pointed towards Serena. “How did the Twerpette stop us? She doesn’t even battle!”

Serena looked up as she cupped the frazzled Fennekin in her hands, instinctively leaning away from them. It’s true— she doesn’t battle. Not like how the others do it, so self-assured and full of strategies. But she can’t just… wait around for them. Expect them to be there at every turn. Expect them to do what she needs to do. “I—I’m not going to let you hurt my friends.” Standing to her feet, she raised her chin up and glared forward. “So I will stop you, even if it’s only me.”

“And luckily for her, it’s not only her. Fennekin is a wonderful battler, especially with that Hidden Power.” Giving her a wink, Mercy put her arm up and allowed the Flying-Type Pokémon to alight just past her elbow. “And that’s not to speak about Furfrou or my Noctowl. Both who are very peeved and are willing for another round.”

“That’s right!” Furfrou howled at them before standing by Jessica’s side, glancing up at his partner. Jessica herself put a hand on Serena’s shoulder as she said, “You’re never getting my Furfrou, and you’re definitely not getting her Fennekin, or anyone else’s Pokémon!”

“Pah, you can’t guarantee the last one, kid,” Meowth said, picking his teeth even though his fur was frazzled, looking off to the side. “We’ll always keep trying.”

Mercy put a hand on her hips, giving the cat a dour look as her Noctowl sat on her head and looked down at him. “And we’ll always keep stopping you. Everyone will keep stopping you. And right now? We’ve already done that. So, once again, do you want to continue to battle?”

Jessie let out a sharp exhale as she recalled the fired-up Pumpkaboo, James at the back hugging his weary Inkay. Somewhere, a motorcycle roared to life. “...Let’s go. Who wants these dumpy Pokémon anyways?”

Obviously them, Serena thought, and obviously they’ll be back (like always, again and again), but she bit her tongue as her heart continued to thud in her chest, as the trio walked away from sight. As soon as they left, she sighed and then laughed as Fennekin licked her face. “Oh, I'm so glad that you’re safe too! I really didn’t know if we could’ve held them off on our own this time.”

“So you were biding time, then?” The Pokémon Breeder raised an eyebrow at her, now crossing her arms. “You seemed pretty capable on your own, Serena. I wouldn’t downplay such finesse and trust in a battle, especially with a Starter. After all, those kinds of Pokémon are chosen for their abilities to connect with humans and grow beside them, reflecting the journey that they take together. And your little one… hmm, she seems to be determined to help you. I’m sure of it.”

“Thank you…” Her cheeks must’ve been so red by now. Shaking her head, Serena then turned to Fennekin and remembered the flash of blue. “You said something about a ‘Hidden Power’...”

Jessica turned to her with a glint in her eyes. “Wait, your Fennekin learnt a new move? That’s great!” Furfrou nudged her leg with a bark, and she clicked her fingers in remembrance. “Remember what I said about Windie’s Mark, back when we first met? Hidden Power can be any Type depending on the individual Pokémon that uses it, which can manifest in different ways.”

“Any type…?” Fennekin yipped at her before combing her ear tufts with a paw, and Serena held a small smile. They really are growing together, weren’t they?

The Noctowl cried loudly then and Mercy clicked her tongue, turning to the sky before looking back at the others. “Ah, we’ve wasted quite a bit of time. It’s been truly an honour to meet you Serena, even though the circumstances could’ve been a bit better than that.”

Serena laughed a little at the small dig. “I’m sorry too. Those thieves usually follow me and my friends… I’m actually kind of surprised that they caught you instead.” Glancing over to Jessica, she added, “Hopefully your Furfrou is okay, by the way.”

“He’s fine,” the Coiffeuse said, waving off the concern at the same time Furfrou proudly barked. “Honestly I feel like the only thing hurt was his dignity, getting caught like that. And while I would be very concerned about what you’ve just said, we really should be going now. Mercy!”

“I’m not the one dawdling just before.” Calling back her Noctowl, Mercy looked back at Serena with an attentive gaze. “Serena, you said you were travelling, right? Do you have any destination in mind for yourself?”

Fennekin jumped down to then comb her tail as Serena bit her lip, thinking to herself. The PokéVision competition was over; results weren’t coming for another week or so. While she could keep engaging with PokéVision in her own time, it didn’t exactly have a set destination. Nor did she wanted to detract from Ash’s own journey, which has been set back enough times as it was, on a whim that she wasn’t sure she was going to commit to, and especially not this soon. “Not exactly… My friends and I, we’re going to Cyllage. I was planning to see if there is anything that will grab my interest.”

Mercy gave her a nod. “Hmm. There’s a Pokémon Day Care close to Camphier Town, which is on the road that you will be taking. If anything, it would be good for you to see what you can learn, with yourself and with your Pokémon.”

Serena mirrored the nod, letting those words settle within her. A Pokémon Day Care. A place full to bursting with Pokémon, with people experienced with them. Maybe… “Oh, okay. Thank you so much for the tip.”

“It was nothing. If you have any troubles or queries, please feel free to contact me.”

“Helping as always; that’s Mercy for you,” Jessica teased, getting up from her attempt to mediate the meeting of the two very stubborn Pokémon on the ground. “Now, for the last time, can we go now?”

“You could’ve gone on your own, you know,” The Breeder said back, her tone noticeably flatter but with a smile on her face. Her own way of teasing as it were. Different people and different expressions, different roles, different ways of doing the same thing. And yet, attachments of varying lengths and intensities are still made. “Although maybe it’s best that we stick together after what just happened. It’s been great meeting with you Serena, and may your road be a fruitful one.”

“And to the two of you either!”

A wave, a farewell, and steps taken away from the place and time of (re)connections.

“Fen?”

“Yeah, let’s go back.”

A chance meeting, a meeting giving her a new chance.

Clembot has only been truly freed from its programming for the last twenty hours, give or take, and yet there seems to be an error still present in its awareness.

The Pokéball belonging to Heliolisk was empty, rolling loosely in its grip. Magneton and Emolga were already returned, but there was still the question hanging in the air.

Two hours and twenty-three minutes ago, its (master / creator / maker) had fled the space that it occupied. All the signs of stress were present, and combined with the events from yesterday and the effects of what had happened prior to that meeting, there were a lot that pointed to the robot being the cause of such a reaction.

The originator wouldn’t take it though. Every moment of weakness would be brushed aside, with more tasks being taken to cover it up. And deep down, there is a question, or a want, or a string of code that Clembot wanted to make apparent with every minute spent in the halls it was not allowed to explore back then. Time inside and outside of Prism Tower. The powerful Gym and the homely shop. Places that Clembot wanted to get to know better, people that Clembot wanted to know better, time to develop itself to understand better, and know, and cherish.

“Che?” A small green head was underneath Clembot’s line of vision, and internally its Pokédex records brought up the name of the creature below it. 

“Hello, there, Chespin.” The little Chespin burbled happily as he waved his paws up in the air, evidently wanting to be held. And Clembot did not have a reason to deny the request, so with a synchronised bending of the knees and a gentle grabbing motion, the Grass-Type was snug within its grip. “Has master left you behind by accident?”

Chespin furrowed his forehead for a moment before blinking and shaking his head. “Che-pin, ches, pin pin.” A much more longer response than what most of the Gym Pokémon have given Clembot, and yet…

There was warmth in its chest cavity as it took steps to where the nearest cluster of heat signatures were found. Second floor, near the stairwell. “I understand. Let us travel there together.”

“Pin, ches!” Chespin snuggled against the chassis, and even though the spines wouldn’t have scratched much, that point of contact had sent off metaphysical sparks within Clembot. And it was strange, because it was not particularly sensitive to contact before, and now all it wanted was to explore those sensations as well.

It adjusted its grip to hold the body closer, causing more of that curious reaction as they navigated the building towards their companions. Pokémon… truly are mysterious creatures.

Able to make their own decisions, full of their own wants and needs, having their own perspectives. Choosing to work with it even though it was broken. Still choosing to stay even after the fix.

Prism Tower, the Gym. Clemont, the official Gym Leader, had said that there was much to fix. And Clembot had enough understanding to know that some of its actions had harmed Trainers and their Pokémon. As a result, some of the disrepair was due to it. And beyond that, Clembot wanted to be given the chance to do things differently, now that it was capable of changing to its environment.

{A GYM LEADER SHOULD BE…}

A new ideal, for a clean slate.

“Is this yours?”

The boy turned to the speaker, his body posture still wary. In the awkward stilted time of day, leaning from afternoon to evening, there was one foot on the second floor, another in the elevator, with a hand holding the backpack with ease.

And Clemont knew, okay? How hard he can be for others. How his edges can cut and scrape and fracture. “Uh, yeah. Thanks, dad.” He took the bag out of his father’s hand, all that weight transferred between willing hands. Settling it over his shoulders, he then gave him a small nod. “You came?”

“Can’t miss my son being the Gym Leader that he always was.” There was a hearty tone behind it, and Clemont swallowed back that sour feeling (just like before, just like with every mention of the towering expectations). His father looked around the floor, stepping out of the elevator to stand closer to him, before clicking his tongue. “Really cleaned up around here, haven’t you?”

“Just part of my job.” The silence was awkward, gaping, tense. His father chucked. Clemont bit his lower lip.

The silence was unnatural.

His father let out a long exhale. “Look, son, I’ve come to realise that you’ve made some wonderful friends and went through some incredible experiences. And while the base cause of it was… not good, to say the least, it doesn’t erase the fact that what you went through afterwards has made you happy.” He then gave him a big smile, one that was tinged with sadness. Bittersweet, as it were. “Am I right?”

Clemont shook his head, “But the Gym, I can’t just leave it—”

“I know.” For a moment, Meyer looked lost as he rubbed the back of his head. “But you said that you’ve enjoyed your journey.”

“It was only for a month or so.” And all of a sudden, it felt like he was playing for the opposite side, attacking his own views, his own wants, denying himself of that brief moment of levity and candour. “And we didn’t do much, really.” And Clemont didn’t know why he was like this, why he couldn’t stick with what he wanted, except that his dad was here and he was different to how he was before. “Besides, the Gym is the most important thing, right?”

And there it was: the reason why he couldn’t leave the building. Why he could never really go back to his childhood home. How that spark turned into a wildfire that burnt every part of him until there were ashes on the breeze.

Meyer shook his head, a mirror to the son. Bending down on one knee, he put his hands on Clemont’s shoulders, feeling them shake underneath his touch. “Hey. Look at me. Do you really think that I believe that?”

“It’s not just you!” And the thing is, he has the courage to say things but not mean them. No action, no follow-through. A million plans that will never reach fruition. Sniffing, he mumbled, “Everyone is relying on me. I can’t leave them now.”

“Wasn’t it you who told me that you’ve learnt so much in your last month? That you’ve done things you’ve never expected to do? That you felt things you’ve never expected to feel?” His fathers grip was a steady one, his angle leaving that smiling looking lopsided. “That you said you never wanted—”

“This journey to end,” Clemont spat out before those words exited through a different voice, that feeling rising over him again. His father laughed, and for once it didn’t feel forced or digging. The very same laugh from last night, when he admitted his feelings and the journey that they have taken. The boy hid his own small smile as he reluctantly said, “But it’s not that easy. And I mean it when I say I don’t want to leave anyone behind. Clembot has just started its own life— I can’t just assume it wants to be a Gym Leader or fix the mistakes that I’ve made. My Gym Pokémon are starting to accept me now. And… you wanted me to stay as well.”

Meyer shrugged, looking somewhat chastised. “You shouldn’t have to care about me. It’s your life, and I wouldn’t want to feel like a burden to you.”

Was he hearing correctly? “Dad, you’re almost never here with us. At all.”

“Because I didn’t want to force you to do something you didn’t want—”

Clemont put his hands on his father’s shoulders, locking eyes with him. “You don’t get to decide that, papa. We— I missed you. And I want to be with you. And that’s the truth, and I’m not hiding my feelings about it. So, please, can you listen to me and—”

There was that overwhelming pressure made flesh and Clemont dimly realised that he was getting hugged, again, and the fact that he never seemed to tire of this strange sensation that he’s only felt when he was a child— well, younger than he was now— and that he was talking to the shoulder instead of the man. Above him, he could hear, “I won’t pretend to understand everything that you’ve told me before, but if there’s one thing I know, it’s that I’ve never seen you so happy before.”

“Dad.”

“And I’ve heard from your friends how much they care about you, and you’ve been connecting with your Pokémon a lot better too, and I think it’s all this travelling that’s helping you—”

“Papa!”

“Oops, sorry. Listening now.” The elder quickly held his son at arms length again, still not quite relinquishing him. Rolling his eyes, Clemont scratched the side of his cheek. “But before I do, I just wanted to say that this isn’t your fault. And if you were to go travelling again, just as a hypothetical… I can help take care of the Gym for you alongside Clembot. Been meaning to stretch Ampharos’ legs, after all.” His eyes twinkling, the man then leaned backwards, giving him a big grin. “So, as you were saying. About the Gym.”

“About the Gym,” the Gym Leader echoed, still holding the remnants of a rueful smile after hearing those words. There were clacking sounds behind him and he turned around, seeing the metallic body he carved into an approximation of himself (and, just like himself, became completely unknowable). “Hey there, Clembot.”

“Hello, master. Mister Meyer.” The mechanic chuckled as he got up, putting a hand forward. The robot stared at it for a few seconds before putting his own hand forward, a bit more hesitantly, and yelping as the man took it with a strong grip and shook it well.

Getting himself off the ground, Clemont came face to face with a smug Heliolisk. “You’re not getting the bag this time,” he warned the lizard, whose grin became even wider. Chespin barrelled into his leg a moment later, chirping up a storm as he tried to climb up his pant leg, and the floor was full of love, then.

The son met eyes with the father, and both of them exchanged a smile before laughing once more.

And so, the Gym.

“Clembot, so what are your long-term plans?”

The robot stopped sweeping the battlefield as it looked up at Meyer. “I would like to battle Trainers to help them achieve their potential alongside Pokémon.”

“So like a Gym Leader?”

“Who's like a Gym Leader?!” Ash burst into the room with a massive grin and an exaggerated hutched pose, eyes riveting around the arena before locking eyes on his target and straightening up. “Hey! Clemont! You have no idea who I just met!”

“Let me guess,” Clemont said drolly, raising an eyebrow before being tackled by the hyperactive Ash. Meyer took a few steps backwards, pursing his lips and promptly leaving the scene a few minutes later. This action was not missed by Clembot.

And so, the journey.

“I really want to keep trying new things,” Serena had said as the ad break played, a teensy sound in the background as Bonnie slumped over her shoulder. A dare in what kinds of things the workshop's computer screen could play had turned into this, an impromptu watch party, and that was something new too. “I’ve heard… there’s a Day Care Centre on the road to Cyllage.”

Ash turned to her with his head lolling over the side of the chair he pulled in, the light of the screen shining off his pitch-dark hair. “You don’t have to tell me twice. Let’s start tomorrow.”

“So we’re— Uh, nevermind.”

Ash saw the extended look she gave, just a little past him this time. His own mind, full of thoughts as they were, quietened for a bit. “I’m going to check on the popcorn, okay?” Gently laying the snoozing Pikachu over his seat, he moved towards the door and towards his other companion.

And so, the dream.

“We will take care of the Gym for you.”

Clemont let the microwave continue its countdown in peace, turning to his mirror. “You can’t possibly mean that.”

Clembot stood steady, pressing a hand over its chest. “I am not lying, sir.”

“I know you’re not, it’s just—” He stopped his argument just as the microwave blared its completion, pulling out the popcorn. Looking down at the changed product in his hands, he said, “It’s not your job to fix this, you know.”

“I am aware.” Somehow, Clembot interpreted his actions as passing the bowl over, moving its fingers to cup the dish besides the human. Clemont looked up. The robot’s gaze was also steady. “I want to partake in battles. I want to help people and Pokémon understand each other. I want to guide others as a Gym Leader.” Gently taking the bowl away, it pointed its elbows down as it patiently said, “What do you want, sir?”

Clemont sighed. He was well and truly cornered now. “I want… to keep travelling. To see other people battle, to see other Gyms, to be inspired by others so that I can learn how to inspire others myself. It’s not that I’m leaving the Gym! It’s just… I really do want to be a better Gym Leader. And I think this is the way for me.”

“That sounds wonderful, sir.”

“...You think so?”

A hand stuck out in front of him, with Clembot tilting its head just a little to the side. “Let us both improve as Gym Leaders together.”

Clemont struggled with the rush of feelings as he extended his own hand toward. “Let us both work towards whatever our hearts want, together.”

They shook on it with shared smiles of the approximation of one, basking in the shared contact. Clembot let out a small sound as they let go of their mutual grip, moving to deposit a small ball into Clemont’s hand (which was still floating in the space between them). “I think you should also take this on your journey, sir.”

It can’t be. “Is it—”

“Is the popcorn ready?!” a voice called, and the two Gym Leaders startled before quickly moving out with the bowl and extra condiments.

And so, the night.

“So, you’re coming with us, right?”

“I’ve made the necessary preparations, and my father agreed to it. So did Clembot, to look after the Gym in my absence. So… yes. I would like to continue our journey together, for as long as you would have me.”

The room was dark, with barely any light let in. Even then, Ash felt the warmth of Clemont beside him. Below him. Whatever. “Would you stay forever then?” At the half-cough half-choke, Ash felt a small smile bloom on his face. “Hmm, you’re right. Too short.”

“You’re staying in Kalos for the League, right?” Clemont said pointedly. A hum answered him. “I can stay until then. That should be a fair length of time.” There was comfortable silence, before he added, “You said you’re going to Cyllage next. Why not challenge the Lumiose Gym now?”

“Because you wanted Challengers to have four badges, so that’s what I will do as well.” A small laugh. “Hey! I’m just taking what you want seriously, Mr Gym Leader. I want to battle you at the level that you expect me to be. And I mean you.”

After the laughs dissipated, Ash heard, “That’s fair.” Clemont then sobered up as he shuffled on the bed, facing the Kantonian with the barest beam of light shining between them. “I’ll make sure to become the Gym Leader that you would want to face as well.”

Ash nodded. “Let’s get stronger together.”

“Let’s.”

There was a yawn, and Clemont rubbed his eyes as he squinted forward. He didn’t put his glasses on then, and the image was almost funny for Ash to witness. “Well, we should sleep in any case. Tomorrow is a big day.”

“Hmm. Serena says that she wants to see a Pokémon Day Care, it’s a few days from here.”

“I guess we already know what we’re doing, then.”

“Should’ve planned with us instead of doubting. You’ve still got a way to go to be truly confident in yourself. …That’s what you wanted to be, right?”

A chuckle, and then a sigh. “You’re right. I’ve still got a lot to learn.”

“I’m happy to keep travelling with you too.”

And the stars kept sparkling.

And the sky was vast.

And the journey continued, for as long as they will take it.