Archive of Our Own

This Pokémon Centre was bustling with activity from the moment the group of four had entered it.

Somehow there was a massive crowd of people and Pokémon alike that had managed to fit inside the building, looking tired and road-weary. And Serena understood, really. This particular Centre was at the end of a very long road, one with virtually no natural or man-made stops, and it took a good part of the day to get here. It was the main reason why she was in the kitchen in the first place— she appreciated the food that they did eat during their journey on the road, but sometimes an oven’s touch is what everyone really needs (and not a jury-rigged welding torch).

Finding Nurse Joy was enough of a challenge with all these people under the same roof— taking the skill of sidestepping large birds, antsy horse-bugs, and a group of kids watching a video at full volume blast. And when Serena finally managed to find her standing by the front desk, it was all she could do to not gasp.

The matron of the building gave her a small smile, pushing down her apron and adjusting her slipping cap, no Wigglytuff beside her. Looking so small, near dwarfed by the limited capacity of the Centre, she said, “Hello and welcome to the Pokémon Centre. How may I help you?”

Beholding the sight of the beaten down Nurse Joy, Serena squared her shoulders and replied, “Can I make use of your kitchen?”

Nurse Joy blinked. “Uh, sure. But there’ll be dinner soon, so I can’t lend it for too long.”

“If my idea works out, you won’t have to arrange for dinner.” At Nurse Joy’s bemused face, Serena made a motion of pushing up invisible sleeves up her elbows. “Trust me, it’s the least I can do.”

“Well, if you’re sure—” And she was off with a sort of practiced grace only someone who was truly confident would have. 

Either that, or with the experience to match.

Cooking was one way for Serena to just… take her mind off things, or sometimes even apply it depending on her mood.

It’s strange, knowing where she came from. Back home she would involve herself in small baking quests once in a while— a fancy cake, some madeleines, a batch of chouquettes. Her mother much preferred heartier meals and savoury dishes, and it was one of the many ways they have clashed in interests (and one of the many avenues that closed to herself as a result). For the most part, though, this journey had allowed her to indulge in her sweet tooth and baking tendencies more than at home, and from that, her fascination with food had grown.

The following of a recipe, while stiffing at times at her most creative frame of mind, can allow for new delicacies to be discovered with a few tweaks and an open outlook (to successes and mistakes in equal measure). Substituting sugar with honey, making the batter a lot lighter, creating fillings using different types of Berries. Being on the road had also given her an appreciation for the dishes that her mother would’ve made her, even if Serena would never admit it— helping Clemont with the meals that would fill them for the strenuous trek up ahead. Giving her a purpose, no matter where they were.

And now, it was a way to help Nurse Joy as well. Serena had initially blockaded herself inside the kitchen in order to prepare herself for the undertaking she had (perhaps foolishly) accepted upon herself, but of course, she would have company join her at some point. The pop of her Pokéball revealed an eager Fennekin, her breath fiery and strong, and Serena flashed her an appreciative smile as they got to work with the food.

For dinner, there would need to be around three courses — an entree, the main one and dessert. Considering the ingredients they had around here and the size of the gathering, though, they would have to make do with only two courses, thus skipping the first one. Tying her hair back and putting on her cooking apron, Serena fixed a engaged look on her face; after all, this was worth doing, always, and so she will make the wait worth it in turn.

Pots and pans bubbling with various sauces, a baking dish ready at the side, the oven already preheated. Luckily the Pokémon Centre was already stocked with enough supplies to make multiple servings, and with Fennekin nearby to quicken the heating process, time went by in a blur. Pasta sheets were available, and so was the oven now. In the meantime she can let the dessert cool in the fridge while she tackled— well, her and Fennekin— the main dish at once. Time continued to flow as Serena moved around several parts of the kitchen, checking, adding, mixing, and moving things as she saw fit. As the recipe called it. As her heart and tastebuds did as well.

And soon enough her work was done and delivered to everyone underneath the same roof, steaming hot (or cold) and ready to be consumed.

Emerging out of the kitchen with triumphant look, Serena walked out to see everyone enjoying the meal, enjoyment and contentment spreading across the dining hall. As she walked by the people digging into the lasagna and sampling the mille-feuille, that small spark of accomplishment ballooned into something bigger, something warm and sustaining, and she couldn’t help hugging Fennekin closer to her chest with the realisation.

She made this change. She did something good. Serena, someone still undecided and lost in the search for her dream.

Wandering about as if in a haze, a familiar shout grabbed her attention. “Serena! Over here!” Her ears perked at the mention of her name, and despite the small grumble from her Starter, she turned her head towards her friends.

And Ash, of course. The Kantonian was waving at her enthusiastically, sauce smeared over his face as he stood by his seat. His voice naturally drew the attention of other people and their disdain for his tableside manners, but after spending enough time to know that’s just how he was, Serena couldn’t fault him too much. Even if her cheeks still lit up with the attention.

“Hey, everyone,” she managed to breathlessly say as she reached the table and set Fennekin down. The Pokémon Centre already had enough ready-made Pokémon food and had distributed it earlier, and it was clear that her friends were thinking of her as they already had a bowl out for the Fire Starter and a plate for herself. It was all she could do to stifle the overflow of gratitude she had as she settled where her plate was, between the eager activity of Bonnie and the bright smile of Ash as he also sat down. “Sorry for being late.”

“Don’t worry! We had a feeling— Ow! What was that for?” Ash narrowed his eyes at Clemont as the latter's elbow retreated from his side, a pointed look passing between them. Suddenly engaging in mutual coughing for a few seconds (A new form of communication? Boys? She couldn’t tell…), Ash then turned to Serena with a very forced smile, one that made her spontaneously giggle at the sight. “What I meant to say is that we’re all glad that you’re okay and not being jabbed by some others that we know.”

She gave him a nod after she calmed down, holding her fork down. “I’m glad to hear it,” she said solemnly in return, before giving them a wink. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s about time we dig into this good food.”

“You— Ow, I get it, don’t do that to me!” Bonnie also glared at Clemont, who merely swallowed his next forkful of the pasta before leveling his two victims with a long look. Both sister and friend harrumphed before getting back to their own food, a fraction less enthused than how they were before.

Serena pursed her lips at the situation, looking across the table to meet eyes with the inventor. He gave her a small smile before busing himself with the rest of his plate, his movements slow and methodological.

Before she could pipe up with something, a question most likely, the speaker system squeaked. A few seconds afterwards, a voice echoed across the hall— the voice of Nurse Joy, of course. “Dear travellers and guests of the Centre, it is to my pleasure to say that today’s meal would not have been possible without the help of a Trainer with a heart as big as it was true. Please extend your gratitude to Serena of Vaniville Town, and continue to enjoy this gift with all of your senses alongside your Pokémon.”

The eponymous Trainer felt hot all of a sudden, her face as red as one of the sauces she made. Beside her Fennekin huffed knowingly, still delicately enjoying her own food, and the people she shared the table and a journey with all held a small grin at her plight. 

“Can I at least say that I knew it?” Ash whispered loudly, with Clemont fighting back an amused snort.

Serena couldn’t allow this to go without her input. “It really wasn’t anything, you know! I just wanted to help—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Clemont rushed in to say as the plates containing the dessert floated by, a joyous Wigglytuff personally setting down Serena’s one with her paws before hugging the girl.

Bonnie’s eyes lit up as she beheld the small stack of sugary goodness, using the spoon to dig into it with the same ferocity as the dish before it. There was a small commotion as Ash remarked on the layered theme of the food presented before him, peeling off one of the layers for the dessert before dodging the nudge that Clemont made, almost dropping his own fork in the process. After leaving the comfort of the hug and proceeding amicable chatter Serena also did the same, making sure to gift the group’s Pokémon with her own experimental version of PokéPuffs— incorporating the human dessert as cream, taste-tested by Fennekin herself— and the slow bitter day had become a bit more better as a result (even if Ash took some of the extra PokePuffs for himself and proceeded to eat it in front of polite company).

While listening to the aimless conversations of people around them, some of them giving her an appreciative look and thus causing her to change her viewing angle, there was a small shadow that hung over her. Turning around with a courteous countenance, Serena then dropped her utensil on the table in shock.

In front of her, a girl with a fluffy pink Pokémon stood with a confident pose, gracing her with a small uptick of her mouth. “Oh, so it really was you. You know you’ve really grown as a person, Sere; not that you weren’t tall enough before.” She gave a cursory look across the table, noting the people on it and the food on the table. Her eyes narrowed. 

Serena swallowed, even though there was nothing on her tongue. The others looked at the two girls curiously, wondering about the meeting as Ash inconspicuously pulled out his Pokédex. The strange Pokémon barked with joy as it floated a plate to itself and tipping its contents to its mouth, slumping after the consumption of the confection and causing a groan to follow afterwards.

But she didn’t need to wonder, right? Where good food was, you can count on one person to be there. The dessert she made hasn’t helped matters either. “Mi… ette?”

“That’s me,” Miette grinned sweetly, all teeth, as her partner Pokémon let out a polite little burp. 

Okay, so Serena did know some people back in Vaniville.

Not enough to know them as friends. Her mother was a traveller first and foremost (until she wasn’t), and the town was full of people who were similarly done with their dreams and resting for the meantime. Hibernation, if anything. It was part and parcel for why Serena was so restless in finding her own path, and partly why she couldn’t decide on any which one.

There was no proper schooling in Vaniville. There was a retired teacher, who would work as a tutor for the children within the town’s walls, and like any kid she did what she had to do. There would be short breaks when she was younger, little brain breaks as Matilde used to say, and it was then when the other kids used to gossip or play around.

But Serena was different. No one was in and out of Vaniville like she was, and yet, inexplicably, she didn’t change with every visit. Hating going abroad and hating coming back. Boarding herself up with random hobbies and dropping them. Never being relatable, even when the other kids tried to include her the only way they knew how (asking about her dream, what she wants to be, what she does at home, too many questions that she couldn’t dodge or brush away or even redirect, in that clumsy childish fashion).

And so they stopped trying. And so Serena was alone. Until Miette and that sharp, sharp tongue came around.

“So, is this the boy you kept talking about? Can’t say I see much of the appeal, but maybe he just needs a little time to freshen up.”

“Miette,” she said with gritted teeth. The blue-haired girl gave her a short laugh, one that changed alongside her with age and time, albeit continuing to stare at Ash. They were still all at the table, with the hall being mostly empty— it was but a small blessing, though, considering who was next to them.

Of all the time to see someone she knew, too… Composing herself, Serena turned her head away from the familiar face. From her right side she heard, “So you both know each other?”

“Know each other? We’ve practically grown up together! Isn’t that right, Sere?” Miette pulled up a chair and inserted herself right between Serena and Ash, facing the boy with a focused look. Crooning, she added, “I’ve heard a lot about you and a certain Summer Camp in Kanto~”

Ash laughed nervously, and Serena peeked over to see his cheeks pinken. “Oh, is that right… haha.”

“He actually forgot about that until she gave him the hat!” Bonnie said, flashing them all her innocent look. Ash grumbled as he pushed at his slice, and Miette laughed again— loud and claiming.

And Serena would not fall to the bait, no way. Ignoring a thinly-veiled glance of bewilderment from Clemont, she said just as loudly, “So, what brought you around here?”

Miette slowly manoeuvred herself so that she was facing Serena, her smirk never faltering. “Oh, Sere, so naive still. And to think I thought you were a worthy competitor for once!”

“Competitor?” she forced out, trying to hold a passive face. By the amused faces of the siblings beside her, she was evidently failing.

Her old acquaintance shrugged. “Rival. Opponent. Haven’t forgotten our writing and reading lessons, have we?”

“Miette—”

“Calm down, I was only joking.” Her feline smile was anything but. Tossing her hair back with the back of her hand, she then faced everyone. “I don’t know what else to tell you: there’s a competition for those who are serious about baking nearby, and as an aspiring pâtissier, it is my duty to apply myself in such a field.” Miette then shot Serena a short glance, almost dismissively. “Of course, some of us don’t have any fidelity to anything and continue to play around no matter what. But that’s fine too— this competition is open to anyone of all walks of life.”

Serena was grinding her teeth at the dig, but Ash looked thoughtful. “I’m sure Serena would do great in that competition!”

Her heart, formerly a raging volcano, suddenly exploded into a swarm of Vivillon. “R-really?” Serena squeaked, softening almost immediately at his suggestion.

Miette snorted. “Yeah, really?”

“Of course!” He was nodding slowly as if the idea had just dawned upon him. Gracing the two with a smile, he then jumped up to his feet and gave one more decisive shake of his head. “Serena’s always so good at making sweets! And unlike Clemont, she doesn’t have to make us anything.”

“Hey,” Clemont said half-heartedly, still smiling as he watched the Kantonian beam. 

Bonnie was nodding along, food already forgotten as Dedenne tried to peek his head over the table, nose sniffing out the last bite-sized portion left. “You do have to admit it’s true though, bro. Hers is a lot sweeter than whatever you can make, anyways.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the next time you need some hot chocolate.”

“Hey!”

“You guys…” Serena was so fortunate to have such great friends such as these. Meeting her gaze Ash’s smile became brighter, if that was even possible.

Turning to Miette, he then gestured all around them. “In fact, Serena likes to volunteer her time in the Pokémon Centres we go to make sweets all the time! And sometimes, like today, she even helps with dinner, lunch, you know it.”

Miette's gaze turned calculating at the words, her eyes picking apart Serena. “So it’s more than once…” she mused, and the other girl gulped.

“It’s just a favour, something to do, nothing too big,” Serena said, trying to pull the heat away from herself. “I’m nowhere near professional level and it’s not like I do it for a living. It’s just something to do.” Too much warmth, close quarters with people that invoke warring emotions in her— suddenly this place became too much. Pushing her chair back, she readied herself to take the empty plates to the sink, but then—

“You know what? I bet Serena could beat you in that competition!”

No. Her blood iced over, the voice that usually set fire to her at odds with the damning words.

And then— “Do you really want to bet on that?”

Double no.

“Please don’t do anything foolish on my behalf,” she yelled, pushing both quite frankly insane people away from each other. Ash was grinning forward, that smile that he always had before a battle was about to take place. Miette on the other hand was standing in a way Serena could only describe as smug, somehow already assured in the outcome.

Miette locked eyes with Serena as she drawled to Ash, “She’s right. Don’t want to do anything foolish for someone so uncertain, so lovestruck, as to let someone else take the—”

Serena had enough. “Don’t you dare,” she growled, moving her hand away from Ash’s general direction to face the girl in front of her. That self-satisfied smirk briefly flashed into surprise before returning, Miette once more regarding her with that disparaging gaze.

“Don’t I dare what?” she purred in response, pushing herself closer. “It’s not like you can do anything about it, can you, Sere? Always wanting something but unable to do anything about it. Why stop hesitating now?”

Why do anything indeed? In the face of someone familiar, someone from a sleepy hometown and stories already lived, Serena could only spit out, “Who said I’m not doing anything about it? If you want competition so badly, then maybe I can afford to join in just to put you in your place.”

Miette continued to leer at her, leaning in closer as if needing to eliminate all space between them… before quickly separating herself with a toothy grin and a clap of her hands. “That’s wonderful!” she chirped, all sugar and none of the bitterness or salt. “So glad to see that you do have a little backbone in you. This will truly be the battle to reveal your skills, I just know it.”

“When… is this event?” Clemont asked wearily, glancing at the two of them. Miette laughed as she pulled out a Holokit, opening up the screen and pressing on it a few times. After bringing up the page she then set it in the middle of the table, causing everyone to lean forward to read what was upon it. “At ten tomorrow morning…?”

Ash rolled his arm back, a confident look on his face. “That’s nothing! Serena will show you how awesome her baking is, no sweat!” And the way he turned to her with such conviction, such care, such warmth…

(“Hmm. Are you sure she can do it?”

That question at the back of her head always haunting her, digging every step. Can she do it, really, truly?)

Well, was it any wonder that Serena stared at Miette and said the words that would doom them both?

“I’ll do it.”

So full of the trust people gave her, with none to spare.

And yet…

“I can’t do it!” Serena’s scream was only muffled by the pillow that she stuffed underneath her face, her legs restless on the bed she threw herself upon once entering the room. It was all too much, too fast— she didn’t even comprehend what she had agreed to until she had left the vicinity of Miette and the dining hall at large.

And it was mortifying, that realisation. Squeezing every last bit of breath from her body she then pushed her head up and took a deep breath, as if rising from underwater, before diving back down and shouting into the pillow once more. “What’s wrong with me, why did I say that, I shouldn’t have said something like that at all!”

“It’s… okay?” Bonnie gave her a worried glance as she used Serena’s brush on Fennekin, taking over the auspicious role due to the Trainer being otherwise incapacitated. While such a nice gesture would’ve ultimately tided over the Fire Starter, no matter how clumsy or overenthusiastic it was, the garbled yells of Serena were only making the Pokémon more worked up. Taking notice of Fennekin’s state, the younger girl set down the brush and started to pet her back instead. “I mean, you can totally beat her though, right?”

Serena pulled her head away from the bed to stare at Bonnie, eye contact long and uncomfortable. “I don’t know— maybe there is a chance in the Distortion Realm for me to beat someone aspiring to be a professional pâtissier. I’m sure we’ll find a shooting star someday that will grant me that hope to escape the utter doom I’ve called upon myself.” After a few moments she then sighed and sat upright, pulling her hands over her face before brushing her hair away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay! I know how stressful tests can be.” At Serena’s confused expression, Bonnie beamed and sat closer to her, at the edge of the former's bed. “It is a test! You’ve got to prove yourself to Miette, and she’s like the evil teacher that really wants you to fail.”

That got a chuckle out of the older girl. “Evil teacher?” Serena said, straightening her clothes while a rueful smile started to peek through.

Bonnie started to nod before shaking her head. “You’re right. She can only be a teacher if she’s at least taught you something, right? And I don’t think she’s done that.” Thinking for a total of ten seconds, she then flashed her a nosy look. “Soooo… how do you know each other anyways?”

“We lived in the same town.” It was a simple answer, really. Saying that did not cost Serena anything, and the thought of how true that statement of Miette being a teacher to her was sour enough to just keep out of her mind. Because she never was that helpful, was she? Never nice, or kind, or willing to understand. “We’re not friends, if you’re wondering. I don’t think we ever were.”

There was a crashing sound that brought Serena out of her reverie, instinctively turning towards the wall partitioning the room from the boys. Chewing her lip, she then remembered the strange behaviour at the dining table before her much-disliked acquaintance came by, and started to stand up, ready to investigate (and take her mind off things, preferably). “What are they doing the—”

“Don’t go!” Bonnie scrambled over the bed to grab her arm, causing Fennekin to escape into Serena’s lap and grounding her once more. The older girl raised an eyebrow at the behaviour, and Bonnie flushed a rosy colour. “It’s just… I know you think you can’t do this, but we all know you can. And it’s like three to one, so that means we outnumber you.”

“Three to two,” Serena belatedly replied, suspicion sloughing off at the unexpected words.

Fennekin yipped pointedly and Bonnie shook her head, smiling as she pointed to the Pokémon. “Four to two. You can’t beat the winning side, so just join us already.” It was petulant and it was born from that childish belief that the people you look up to can do no wrong.

And maybe Serena was petulant and childish too, ready to slink away at the sign of conflict. Maybe she never really grew up. “But Miette… She comes from a long line of bakers and cooks. She knows what she’s doing. And I… don’t. I never did. It’s just a hobby to me, nothing that serious.” That’s what Serena’s mother always said— and coming from a mouth that has always led with the winning command in a race, it was no wonder why the words were so powerful.

‘Just a hobby’. ‘Nothing serious.’ ‘You’ll get over it someday’. Over and over again. ‘You're not dedicated enough’. ‘You don’t care’. ‘Where’s that love, Serena?’

Before she knew it there were two small arms entwined around her, a head nuzzling the junction where her neck and shoulders met. From her lap, another warm body rubbed itself against her, fluffy and purring with love. She was loved. Serena loved them too.

“You can do it, Serena. We believe in you.”

And so Serena hugged them back, and that moment lasted almost forever, too.

It was a very awkward moment when the lights turned on and Serena came face to face with Clemont.

The microwave time blinked 1:34 AM. The inventor hardly looked sleepy and neither did she, and there was no excuse to be had at this time, in the Pokémon Centre kitchen, and they were both really bad at lying.

Some more than others. Clemont swallowed thickly as he stepped out, ready to just leave but— and Serena didn’t understand it, really— but she didn’t want him to leave.

He blinked in surprise. She hurriedly explained about her motives, as lacklustre as they were… and she got a firm nod as he pulled up his ever-present bag and the invention he had for times ‘just like these’. And it was funny, and it was late, and even if the batter never made it to the baking trays and they both came out of that attempt smelling like smoke, it was still a time to be had. And it was nice.

Serena expected to be told off for it. After all, no competition was worth a late night, and she shouldn’t have let Miette’s words get to her like that, bringing everyone into their interpersonal drama, but Clemont didn’t judge. As he adjusted and fixed the apparatus he brought in (and some that were already present), to greater heights of success each time, he reminded her of how she helped at the Gym, with no personal stake of her own.

She did have a personal stake, she argued. And he shrugged, and she couldn’t judge him on that either, not when she was going the same (even though she would’ve liked to do something about it). He goes on to tell her about how cooking was a kind of science to him, all measured and procedural. And when she came around, she had somehow found the fun in it— the experimentation, the testing, the willingness to make people smile.

(And if those words rung true, the first time she had heard it without scorn?)

What she ended up making was nowhere near edible, and what he ended up with was still a long way from fully functional, but that one hour they spent together was its own kind of results. And clean up was easier with two pairs of hands, and going back to bed was easier with another set of nocturnal eyes watching for the slightest bit of hesitance.

And saying goodbye was easy, knowing that he would be there in the morning to come. Knowing that a hello was around the bend should she need it to.

(Something physical and substantial, real, a friend. A dream. A tomorrow by their side.

She was so, so lucky. And so she promised to herself to not take it for granted, not for a second— not almost forever, but to infinity. On and on and on.)

A warm snout nosed around her face before giving one long lick.

“Aieee!” Serena jumped out of her bed with a bang, almost tumbling off it with minimal grace and maximum chaos. Fennekin had gracefully jumped off her the moment her body had stiffened up and was looking down at her with a firm bark, nudging the back of her head insistently.

The girl pulled up the blanket around her midriff as she glared at her Pokémon. “You’re just as bad as my mother’s Fletchling, you know that?” she groused, before pulling herself up and stretching her limbs. It was the next morning— a quick glance at her pocket computer told her that it was seven thirty-three. The first alarm must’ve gone off, which alerted Fennekin and caused this whole mess to occur. It must’ve been a very worthwhile sleep Serena had to not have noticed it herself.

Untying the band from her head and taking up the travelling clothes she set by the frame of her bed, Serena paused. She didn’t realise it when waking up, but there was no other presence in the room— no sound coming from the one nearby as well. And knowing how loud Bonnie and Ash can get, it must mean that the others were already awake and waiting for her. Which was… a strange thought.

Charily getting herself dressed for the new day, Serena mused on the events from the last one. She didn’t want to sour her relationship with food anymore than it already was, and the bet was borne out of misguided faith and blindness when it came to the repercussions. Future Serena did not deserve such a plight. Future Serena just wanted to have some fun with some friends, travelling the region until the perfect idea chanced upon her kind. Until then, she didn’t have any obligations to any one true calling.

So, theoretically, she could call it off, right? It wasn’t like uptaking the challenge would change Miette’s view of her, especially with the odds stacked the way they are and the outcome clear. And the others— her kind, loyal friends who would have a disposition for sweets and sweet people— wouldn’t want her to do something she wasn’t committed to. So, really, the solution was an easy one.

Buoyed by her thoughts, Serena cheerfully made her way to the door. Her progress was only stopped by a quick-series of yips, which she may have ignored, and a small nip at her ankles, which she definitely couldn’t push away from the forefront of her mind as easily.

“Fennekin!” Serena hissed, turning to her Starter with a disappointed look. What faced her was her very own look being reflected right back at her, the diminutive fox growling at her while picking up the apron nearby with her teeth, giving it an emphatic tug.

And maybe Serena’s expression faltered just a little bit. “You know I can’t do that,” Serena said, voice low as she bobbed down to a crouching position. Fennekin shook her head and tugged at it again, the growls giving way to whines.

And maybe Serena knew. Grabbing the apron, she rubbed her thumb over the frills on the side. Looking back at Fennekin, who finally released it, she bit her lip. “You don’t know Miette like I do. She’s ruthless. She has to get where she needs to be. I don’t need this like she does. I don’t care what she says.”

“Kin, fen!” But Fennekin wasn’t having it. The Pokémon nudged at her knees, trying to push them with her paws, anything to get her moving forward and not looking back. And maybe Serena did want to prove something, although what that something is isn’t exactly clear to her just yet.

Sighing, she got up and tucked the apron in her bag, dusting herself off before shooting her Starter a dour look. “If I lose, you lose. Are you sure you want to live with that?”

“Fen-fen!” And the way Fennekin said it made it sound like ‘and when we win, it’s going to be my idea you have to thank’, and it was just the right amount of sass to break that storm inside of Serena, just enough to walk out of the room with everything she needed for the competition.

Almost everything. Her heart still thudded in her chest as she made her way from the dorms to the reception, the beat vibrating in her ears. To do this will be irreversible. She would challenge someone in their natural space, something that she was no expert in… and no matter what, she still didn’t feel ready.

And yet, walking through the halls, she found people’s faces light up with recognition and gratitude. Some people thanked her, others were still in awe, and a few even asked for her recipe. And through this there was trust and love too, weren’t it? 

She had just signed out of the Pokémon Centre when she heard a chorus of footsteps coming towards her. Serena was at the door, one foot on the outside, when a body collided with the back and a face slotted next to hers. “And where do you think you’re going?”

Serena choked back a yelp of surprise. Restraining her voice, she said, “T-to the place where the competition is held. I need to know how the arena is set up.”

“Without us, though? And Ash, please don’t be so close.” There were another pair of footsteps and the speaker beside her chuckled before moving himself away, giving Serena a wide smile that automatically wiped out every other though in her mind (because of course!). Clemont gave her a sympathetic look after joining them but it must’ve been based on personal space rather than what the problem actually was (Bonnie was a different story that Serena would not like to comment on).

Ash chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck, Pikachu shaking his head at his Trainer’s antics from the ground before conversing with Fennekin. “Ah, sorry, it’s just that competitions really do get me fired up. And I think it can do you some good as well, you know?” He sent her a loaded expression, a lot more knowing than he usually gets.

And Serena may have been taken by surprise at that. Regaining her wits about her, she shook her head. “Thanks, but I know this isn’t for me.” As the faces of those around her fell, she quickly followed it up with, “Not that I don’t appreciate your efforts! Just that… baking isn’t special to me.”

“So you’re not actually doing it?” Bonnie asked, tilting her head questioning.

Serena could’ve sworn her cheeks pinkened a little at that. “No! I didn’t mean that! I’m just saying that you all shouldn’t be disappointed when I don’t do as well…” She bit her lip, trying to take the words back. The words that would incentivise this group, for worse and worse still.

That still didn’t stop Ash from grinning at her though, looking just as suave as he could get. He walked up to her and faced the door in front of them, adjusting his cap. “I think that the care you give to this will make your dish the best there is. Like, anyone can make a sandwich. But it takes a special touch to make it truly delicious, you get me? And if anyone could have it…” He gave her a brief glance, one that activated every single part of her body as surely as a Thunderbolt.

Steaming, she just barely caught the tug on her hand, Bonnie nudging her with a sly look. “Wow, good praise from Ash? Today must be a special day.”

“A day where I get to see good food! …And hopefully eat it too.” The Kantonian glanced back at Clemont, who seemed to be lost in thought. “A good break for you, eh?”

The inventor stiffened up, giving them a strong nod. “Yeah! Sure. A break would be nice.” He then looked off at the side, once again returning to his occupied mindspace.

“What’s better is breakfast, so I’ve packed this for you!” At Serena’s clueless glance, Bonnie pointed to the pathway behind them. “I knew you were going to head for the door! So I made sure to pack something just in case, since there’s this whole group of people that came to help Nurse Joy with drinks and pastry stuff. And I got Dedenne to help… so that he wouldn’t eat it before you did. I promised him that he could get some of your awesome and totally-winning-this PokePuff though, so no pressure!”

“No pressure,” Serena echoed back, holding the pain au chocolat and feeling its weight upon her hands. Breaking off a small part of it (to some indignant sounds) she fed it to Fennekin, who took the offering with grace but still seemed to be slightly wary around her, sticking tightly by her side and watching her as she ate. And Serena couldn’t blame her, not after her track record (not even an hour ago).

But still. The future was looking bright. And the least she could do was try, right?

Team Rocket were, frankly, out of funds.

It was inevitable all things considered. Chasing after one Twerp’s Pikachu (and other Pokémon that they chance upon) costs a lot— even if the flight they get for their efforts were free— and they had promptly used up most of their funding provided to them from their stellar yet unknownable operations in Unova. 

(Back when they were less involved in the electric rat and its machinations, but who’s really keeping score?)

After quickly wearing away at their advanced levels of jet lag (for what else could explain their lacklustre efforts at the start of this new chapter?), the group had finally come up with a plan. And by the group, it meant Meowth.

Cheeky, sly, devious Meowth— his idea to create a food truck by repurposing the one they have previously used in their last plots was certainly unmatched, as he so said himself. “Think about it: the Twerps will get hungry on the road, capiche? And Kalos is the region of good food! If we lure them in with some fresh grub they’ll be sure to bite, and then we’ll be able to whisk away their Pokémon before they could say ‘mercy’.”

“Or merci,” James had said in his usual bouts of pedantic behaviour. He mused to himself for a few moments, stroking his chin in thought. “I’m sure that’s not the half of it, though. Fess up.”

“You don’t usually do community service, Meowth…,” Jessie added, staring daggers into the Scratch Cat Pokémon as she leaned forward. “And you better not be expecting me to damage my hands with such undignified work.”

He gulped, his claws poking out of his paws as he put them over each other. “You don’t really expect me to put you both in the wringer, right? At least not intentionally. It’s just, well, you know…” He looked down at the ground as he kicked a stray pebble. It barely turned. “I’m short.”

Jessie stared at him stonily as she said, “Can you say that last part again?”

Meowth shook his head as he glared back at her. “Don’t make me repeat myself!”

“While it is a very funny argument, I understand our old chum’s plight.” Holding back a chuckle, James put a hand on the taking Pokémon’s head. His grin turned slightly menacing as he looked down at him. “There are many other jobs that don’t require height or five-fingered hands. And I think I’ve got the perfect one for you to start.”

…Which is how he had to procure ingredients like a feral Pokémon, get paint buckets in the same manner, and dodge police and angry owners all the while. One part of Meowth thanked the fact that they were nowhere near Lumiose and that Mega Blaziken that stared into his soul, but a store-guarding Persian did just enough psychic damage to him before he could follow up on how such a phenomena could still be used to their advantage.

Even though he was scratched up and bruised beyond relief, the humans barely blinked an eye at his return, just carrying out their part with minimal care. It was a part of their job to deal with injuries as they come— after all, a job isn’t a job if you didn’t get a little banged up by it— but it still itched like crazy knowing that clinical nature they’ve all adopted in their last regional bout still lasted. Items were successfully procured, no matter what damage the bringer may have got. The job got done. And it was fine, all fine. It wasn’t like Meowth was one of their Pokémon or their boss, now, was it?

So he cajoled them during the paint job and food-making process, laughing at how the oil would smack into their vulnerable faces, and generally hung off the side of the serving counter, kicking his legs out and kicking away their grabby hands. In the midst of their efforts he spied another truck gliding effortlessly across the rocky road and he pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing. It wasn’t like their luck was particularly good either, was it?

Picking at the inside of one of his ears, he turned over to his human comrades who were, predictably, taking a break. The food they’ve made was low quality at best, which made Meowth’s lip curl, as well as the hygiene issue of them putting their long legs wherever they pleased. “Hey!” he snapped, flicking his paw out with claws at the ready, “Keep your grimy bodies off the merchandise!”

“Like your stinky feet aren’t standing on it too,” Jessie snarked back, barely moving from her position. James took notice of the Pokémon’s ruffled up state and hummed as he got up, that thoughtful look returning once more.

And Meowth didn’t trust it one bit. “What’re you doing, huh?”

The lavender-haired man put his hands up, leaning against the counter himself. “Nothing of note. After all, this job means nothing to you either.”

His ear twitched. “That’s right…” he said warily, kicking his legs up.

An unbidden smile started to creep on James’ face as he folded his arms on the counter, elbows neatly positioned. “And so there’s no reason for you to work us like Growlithe on a caper, right?”

Meowth couldn’t take it anymore. Jumping to stand on the very counter he protected, he growled, “So where do you think you're going with this, ey?”

“Again, nothing of note.” James looked outward, towards the blue sky. “Although this does give me memories of a certain noodly dream you once had.” He then dodged the swipe of claws, still holding that blissful grin that may hold a bite to it.

A bite that Meowth will respond to in kind. “If you think I’m leavin’ this dump you have another thing coming! Jus’ cause you’re all annoyin’ and dumb and can’t even tie your own shoelaces to save your life, let alone nab one darn mouse, it doesn’t mean that I’ll just up and leave! This is my dream too, you know.”

“Ugh, what is he yapping on about?” Jessie walked over to where they were and glared at them both, her gaze lingering on one specific member. “James, don’t tell me you set him off.”

“Maybe?” The man chuckled to himself before poking his foot at the underside of their bin with the soggy excuse for dough inside. “I do have enough self-awareness to know when the job is more plural than singular, though, so I reserve my right to yap in kind.”

Jessie squinted at him before sighing, massaging the top of her head. “So we’re flat broke, inside a van, with breakfast long since done. And we’ve got no Pikachu either.”

“Nope,” the two nearby chimed.

Her eyes glinted with something like knowing when she glanced at Meowth, though she didn’t remark on what she knew (and that was a first, for her to not crow on about what she knew and what she could do). “Well, we do need the practice…”

“You’re not saying…”

“Do my ears deceive me?”

“Just shut it you two!” Jessie yelled as she smacked the backside of their heads, before abruptly quietening down. “If we’re going to get the Twerps next time, we need to nail this job. We’re masters of disguise, are we not? And if good food is as famous in this region as you say, I could use this to my advantage… Get a whole following of plebs on PokéVision who would literally eat out of my hand… Yes…” She started to cackle to herself in a very much evil way, and with the boys rubbing their heads with a wince, there wasn’t much for them to do except go for it.

Making dough (properly this time), rolling it out, slicing it into appropriately-sized portions. Getting the stove ready for its first run. Boiling water on a slightly banged-up pot. Wasting time away by making more ludicrous plans.

(And if Meowth returned to the classic of making quick noodles for today? Well, it didn’t matter much if the results were that tasty and easy to make.)

(It would be later on in the day when they realised that they’ve also missed their window of opportunity for lunch and dinner espionage as well.)

It wasn’t too far, the area where the competition was taking place.

The stage was already set, with camera crews and produce vendors bustling around. The signup sheet was fluttering on the wind, some names already applied, and nearby was a timer on the same table counting down. One hour until signups closed, another until the event began.

Serena’s hands were all too slippery as she gripped the attached pen, writing down her name before quickly turning away. In front of her now were her friends, beaming at her and giving various modes to signal their praise and approval. And normally she would feel put out by this, but…

The fact that everyone was so willing to support her in this spontaneous undertaking spoke volumes. And with Fennekin yipped at her close by, she knew that this chance, no matter how it went, couldn’t hurt her.

It still didn’t stop her from playing with them a little. “So I’ve done it,” she grumbled, sitting by Clemont’s side as Ash and Bonnie indulged in their extra sweet treats (after running back to the temporary PokéCentre cafe). The inventor moved a hand over his mouth at that and she glared at him before melodramatically sighing out loud. “Why, oh why, have I put myself underneath this terrible burden?”

“Because you want to try something new?” he offered as he put his hand down, the remnants of a smile still on his face. She stuck her tongue out at him and he laughed, a jumpy sort of sound that was half self-conscious and half adorable. Not that she would say the latter part out loud.

Twirling the left side bang of her hair as she watched Pikachu, Dedenne, Chespin and Bunnelby running up and down the ledges that served as rows, Serena sighed for real. Glancing at Clemont from the side of her eyes, she rested her head on her upturned hands and just… breathed. Thought in her mind. Psyching herself up for this undertaking.

“So… you said that baking isn’t that special to you?”

Serena stiffened up at those words, her breath whistling out and disrupting the rhythm that she had set for herself. Great. Another calming exercise failed. “You know what I mean,” she replied breezily, and yet Clemont’s eyes narrowed.

She shook her head, looking down at her knees. It was years ago since she scraped them in some forest back at Kanto. A year less than that when she saw the same view avoiding some biting words. “It’s just… easier to do something if I don’t care about it. Every time I try hard at something it just gets complicated.” She sighed, pushing her hair away from her face. “Just like now.”

“Sho you dho careh,” Bonnie stated, leaning in with a twinkle in her eyes.

Clemont glanced over at Serena as he said, “It’s not that simple, Bonnie. There are some hobbies that you end up taking up more than others, and interests can fade over time. I just wanted to gauge if we did a right pushing Serena like that.”

Serena flushed. “You don’t have to worry about me! I’m the one who took up Miette’s challenge even though I wasn’t ready yet!”

“The challenge Ash first made on your behalf?” The inventor pointedly turned his attention to said boy, who gulped down his last bite before beaming at them. He sighed, though there was no malice behind it, and faced her once more. “It’s just. I don’t know. You shouldn’t have to do something you don’t like.”

There was an invisible weight beneath his words. Serena would’ve tried to pry them apart if she could, but the surface and what was even deeper still resonated with care. Towards her. “It’s okay. I can’t keep running away from her like this, anyways.”

Ash cleared his throat loudly, drawing their attention. Bracing himself with his splayed hands to the ground, he said, “I guess I could’ve been a little too quick back then, but I still don’t regret it. You and Miette… you guys have history. It’s clear she thinks that you haven’t got any skills, but that’s just plain wrong! Even back then! Like… remember the cookie decorating contest back at Summer Camp?”

The cookies… Her face warmed as she remembered how picky she was trying to be back then. “You really did draw the world’s worst Butterfree back then.”

He groaned, throwing his head back up at the clouds. “For the last time, it was supposed to be a Beedril!” Ash then put his head back down to appraise the sceptical look she gave him, his own mouth twisting into a triumphant smile at what he saw. “See, that’s what I’m talking about. You’ve got that sparkle in your eyes, you know, the one that makes you look all fired up! You want to make this right, too. And we all know you can do it; even you know you can do it! So stop putting yourself down like that so much!”

“Like what?”

“I think he means when you said that there was no chance of you winning,” Bonnie said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Serena shook her head but then Clemont added, “You were all negative since you’ve heard of the competition. More negative than I get towards myself, at the very least.”

“See!” Ash called out, throwing his hands out towards the sky, “Like who gets more negative then Clemont, anyways?”

The inventor pouted as he pulled his legs closer to himself. “Thank you all for the constant heckling I’ve been getting from you twos.” His cheeks warmed as everyone started to hug him, and he spluttered, “Yo—This doesn’t change anything, you know!”

“We know,” Bonnie said while clinging to his right arm, "But I hope that you know that you’re an awesome big brother always. And that we’re sorry as well.”

“What she said,” Ash said. “Except the brother thing.”

There was a laugh shared there, and Serena felt like she had to say something to encourage her friend. The words that came out of her mouth were, “No matter what happens, I hope you know that you’re amazing and capable and irreplaceable just the way you are, Clemont.” He looked up at her and she blushed as she grumbled, “And I know, I know, this can apply to me too.”

“I’m glad that someone has some common sense,” he replied back, his eyes sparkling with mirth. Serena pretended to swat him, which then accidentally hit Ash, who made such a loud exaggerated sound that half-scared the group and made them topple down to the ground. They started to laugh again, underneath the same blue sky, and there was faith and love and a sense of belonging.

(“I’d also like to add that you’re a great inventor, an incredible battler that I’ll definitely beat someday, and still a good cook.”

“And you are?”

“I’m glad you asked. A Pokémon Master one day!”

“Not if I’m one first!”

“You can’t just steal other people’s dreams!”

“I can, I can!”

“One Pokémon Master is enough, please and thank you.”)

Serena was still living through that voracious high of laughter when Ash's eyes met her, a warm sort of brown like melted chocolate, as he whispered, “Please don’t give up,” and her traitorous heart jumped in her chest.

“It’s not like I could unwrite my name, anyways,” she mouthed back, yet curiously enough, he beams back at her with the full force of the sun above them.

Yeah. That’s enough incentive, thanks.

With the announcer calling the signal, the competition was on!

Serena wiped her eyes as she pulled out ingredients from the shelf nearby, Fennekin helping in bringing out the right-sized bowls and pans and placing them in accessible places. Her hair tied up and her apron on, she then got to make the batter, her mind twisting itself up thinking about the possibilities and trying to limit herself to the right one.

Three sections, just like a normal dinner course except based on different criteria: something for people to enjoy, something for Pokémon to enjoy, and after a judging session for both, a dish for both humans and Pokémon to gain joy and sustenance from. It was easy enough to make something edible for the last part— a lot harder to make it enjoyable as well. There were so many differences between people as they were with Pokémon being infinitely more diverse, so the task was near insurmountable as it were.

“Fen! Kin, fen!”

Right. No doom today, and certainly not now. The idea for the first was simple enough: remembering how much practice she had gained from dishing out crepes back in their last visit to Lumiose, Serena went to creating the batter instantly, her muscle memory aiding her with the task as her mind started to run circles. How to arrange it, what kind of flavouring should she add, how could she make this stand out?

As Serena started to stack up some of them, Fennekin moved her attention to the pile of crepes, trying to use her paws to line them up in a neat pile. The girl turned to her Pokémon and saw the stack starting to rise and an idea started to coalesce in her head, of a dessert she made last evening, and then she nodded. “Thanks, Fennekin! But I need to make frosting for it to work.”

“Fen?” The fox tilted her head questioning, her ears perking up when Serena told her the plan. Just as quickly Serena had started with the cream filling she would make to sandwich each layer, switching over with her Pokémon to then flip the next crepe out while Fennekin used the spoon to delicately spread the vanilla filling for the stack. It was slow going but it was worth it— with every bit of height gained she felt her own spirits rise, hopefulness starting to bubble up inside her; she could do it, is doing it, will do it.

Serena won’t back down.

This was her chance.

The timer steadily ticked down until there were less than five minutes left. Serena quickly got the shredding chocolate just as  Fennekin steadily placed a dollop of cream on top, their ideas merging into one. The cake was cut and placed onto the plate. Positioning, the cloud of cream all around, time going down, down, down.

(One minute left.)

“Almost there…!” She quickly put the finishing touch, a small triangle of solid chocolate on top, and then stepped away as the horn blared. They did it. They’ve made the first dish.

Sharing a look with Fennekin, they both broke out into smiles. They can do the rest to, given the chance. They— no, even she was ready for this.

No matter what happens, Serena wanted to keep doing her best.

Waiting for the results was tedious.

Serena fidgeted with the tassels of her bag as Fennekin slept beside her, taking advantage of the small window to rest, and the Trainer couldn’t blame her. If they pass… When they’ll pass, they’ll need every bit of energy they can muster. To win. To go for gold.

That’s why they were here, right?

“Should’ve known you’d be here sulking on your lonesome.” Serena looked up to see a familiar blue hue at the edge of her vision and bit back a groan. Miette noticed the action and smirked. “Come on now, don’t blame me for stating the obvious.”

“That no one asked for.” The grin got wider. Serena sighed. There was no winning when it came to Miette, just long battles of attrition.

The pâtissier-in-training stood in front of her, in the backstage, where a small speech was being made before the contestants resumed their cooking. It was supposed to be a break. It was supposed to give time to their next dish.

In front of Serena was an old acquaintance whose words have never faded from the back of her mind. “You don’t have to stand in front of me, you know.”

“But I’m just admiring the view! …Just like how you do with Ash, isn’t that right?” Miette laughed as Serena huffed and turned her face away, the evidence heating up the space between them. “So it has bloomed into love! I’d hate to say I told you so, but I don’t. Regret it, that is.” Serena still didn’t face her. Miette shrugged, straightening herself up. “That’s the problem with you, you know.”

That got her attention. “What problem?”

Miette hummed. “When someone tells you one thing, you want to do something else, but you can never make up your own mind apart from that little rebellion. Funny, isn’t it? So imagine my surprise when you came to this competition all dressed up and ready to win.”

Serena felt a wave of indecision flood her— That's not right, except that she still felt that nagging need to just leave and not look back. That same feeling she got whenever her mother praised her whenever she was sitting on Rhyhorn. Miette continued, leaning in closer, “But it can’t be as easy as you wanting to come, could it? So fess up. What really got you here, right now?”

“It’s… none of your business.” The easiest thing to say (but her chest felt so tight, still).

That same infernal grin was in the forefront, but there was something demanding behind it. Wanting results, perfect and sweet. “Ah, ah, ah. A rival is always to be taken seriously. And I take this matter very seriously as well. You know this too. So, tell me, why are you really here?”

Her breath started to feel cramped. Her hands tightened around Fennekin, and the fox awoke to see the space between a baker’s girl and a racer’s girl.

And that space was none.

And Serena couldn’t say anything if she tried.

Fennekin raised herself up to a full fluffy zero-point-four meters and hissed at Miette, her ear tuffs standing on end and radiating heat and light. Miette instinctively stepped away, eyes alight with that angry glow of the Pokémon, and that helped Serena gain a bit more of that confidence that she had started to gather throughout this whole journey. She grabbed her Starter and stood up, staring Miette in the eye, and said, “Because of my friends.”

Her (rival, friend, someone she knew long ago) shook her head. “Still looking for others' approval, Sere?”

“No, I’m not.” Miette blinked, and Serena stepped forward, feeling a bit more emboldened now with the presence of said friend(s, always by her side, no matter what happens). “My friends support me, and because of them, I’m able to try things I would’ve never dreamed of trying. We always help each other, and that’s how they help me, and honestly I’ve only truly got back into making food because of them, too. So that’s my reason, Miette, and that’s the only reason I need.” The announcement went off for the contestants to take their places once more, and she side-stepped the other girl, ready to leave once more.

Back into the light. To the competition.

(And inevitably back to where her friends where waiting for her.)

Second round: making Pokémon food. 

The ingredients for everyone’s bench had been restocked and rearranged during the break, which had caught her notice and which may have slowed her down a little bit (even though Pokémon do get a lot out of Berries or potent mixtures, it didn’t mean that was all there was, but maybe she was complaining too much). She could feel Miette's eyes on her as she ruffled around for some basic bags of flour, sugar, and eggs, the idea for a PokéPuff already solidifying in her mind. But not just any regular PokéPuff.

She turned to Fennekin and said, “I’ll choose one Berry, and you can choose another. Then we’ll combine it to make the best PokéPuff.” Fennekin had quickly ducked under the counter to rifle around the shelves nearby before pulling out a cluster of red circles bunched together. Razz Berries. Got it.

Serena smiled at her Starter as she pulled out the singular Watmel Berry out from underneath, from the last rack, and placed it on the bench. She quickly got to cutting the Berry into manageable pieces and scooped out the insides to blend, creating veritable smoothness as she then added the Razz Berries alongside it. The concoction created was a deep maroon colour, and that got Serena thinking more.

Fennekin yipped in interest as a bottle full of cinnamon came out, then sea salt, then a bunch of mint leaves with only one plucked off. Serena glanced at her as she said, “Just a small dash of each, separately of course. For the cream.” 

“Fen?”

She gave her a wink. “You’ll see!”

Making the PokéPuffs was easy when she had practice with it in the past, and with Fennekin too! Their teamwork was unmatched as Ember heated the mixes, Serena’s hand deftly whisked the cream, and the dish was put together by human fingers and tied up with tissue and a careful paw. In the end of it was three PokéPuffs arranged in a neat triangle, all of them the same except for one thing— the toppings decorated with one particular spice. Cinnamon, sea salt, mint. She hoped that the notes of similarities and differences were enough to carry it forward, alongside the curious blend of watery sweetness and that sour-sweet taste beside it for the base.

Looking around, most people had ended up with some variation of PokéPuff, although there were some variations— there were delicacies from different regions present, with names such as PokéBlocks and Poffins, long sandwiches and even curry. The funniest one was arguably the fruit platter someone had made, though Serena made sure not to laugh at it when it was brought up, not like some of the others. Some people had strengths that laid elsewhere, and this person had made a towering cake in the first round, so they were not without some praise.

“To be a master cook, one must be able to apply themselves in every aspect of life! Pokémon also live on the same earth we do, eating off the same food that grows from it! To truly reach harmony, we must understand each other through food, which sustains us throughout life itself!”

Serena hugged Fennekin to her chest as she looked down at her creation. It looked so small, even in triplicate, sitting there on the plate and arranged in a way that they all bordered the other. If she had more time she would’ve made more, enough to represent all the Pokémon she came to know and love in her life at this point of time, but for now this was enough.

No matter what happens, she’s enough. And that gave her enough strength to walk down when the signal was given, her shaky legs not ending underneath the weight of her dreams and her chance and the gaze still trying to pick her apart from behind.

After all, she has support and love and trust, no matter the outcome. And for her, that’s enough as well. No, that’s all she needs. Her reason, as unselfless as it was.

“So, thought about what you’re going to make?”

She shrugged, waiting outside for the results. Only six people were allowed for the next round, after all, and the top-scoring at that. At least they were allowed to sit with the audience this time. “The announcement said something about connecting Pokémon and humans through food. I wasn’t really sure about it but considering that they’re providing us with ingredients, maybe I’ll just make up something on the way.”

“Fen?” Fennekin did not look too pleased at that. 

Serena patted the Pokémon. “I don’t know what you’re expecting, Fennekin. You can’t plan for everything.”

“If that isn't the truth.” Clemont held a rueful smile after he blurted that out and she met his gaze, and she laughed a little at that reaction. If that isn’t true— If nothing was, at least…

Serena adjusted her posture. “It seems like… Well, I didn’t really expect to go this far,” she admitted, her hands sweeping by Fennekin’s back. The fox purred, snuggling closer to her lap and yet arching her back to reach the hand stroking it, and that was something precious too. “I didn’t do a lot—”

“Serena—”

“So you’ve actually waiting around for the final round. Colour me surprised.” That sugary-sweet voice broke into their conversation and Serena winced, forcing herself to not look up. That didn’t stop Miette from sitting next to her, though, giving a glance at the group before settling down; her Slurpuff joining the gaggle of Pokémon already out and fooling around. “For a moment, I was sure you were going to back down back there.”

“Well, I’m not, so you can just drop it.” Her fingers dug into her skirt, anchoring her to the here and now. Away from her. Biting back any scathing words, for as long as she was able to.

Miette didn’t mind the lack of eye contact. She turned to the others once more, another surreptitious glance, and Serena snapped, “Why do you keep doing that?” because she shouldn’t help but burn herself up next to people she knew. Clemont had chosen to keep himself out of it, walking to where the Pokémon were now rolling around in the grass above them all, and there was now a gap between her new friends and her.

(And maybe she would’ve been upset at that, if she didn’t also realise she would’ve done the same in his shoes. Conflict isn’t necessarily her strong suit until it involves herself, after all.)

The pâtissier-hopeful beside her shrugged. “Just wondering how you got to this point. I didn’t peg you as someone who would travel with others or would even travel at all, especially after all this time.”

All the steam whistled out of Serena, leaving something empty inside. “Does it really matter to you?” she bit out.

“Not exactly.” Another blasé shrug. Miette eyed her as she said, “But you have to admit, you’ve changed. Not a lot, of course, but… I’m interested to see what you’ll make for this round.”

“Of course you would.”

“I don’t understand what else you keep expecting, Sere.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“You really do know each other a lot,” Ash piped up, brushing away crumbs from his mouth with an intrigued look in his eyes.

“No we don’t!” they both snapped, facing each other afterwards before turning away with a loud huff.

Ash put his hands up in surprise as Bonnie giggled beside him, all of that tension starting to fade away in their presence. Serena shook her head as Miette stood up, the latter dusting off her legs before fixing the former with concentrated focus. “Look, Serena— I don’t suffer fools gladly. I want your best today, and if you can’t do that, then leave. I’m giving you the excuse you always wanted. But if you’re on that stage—” And she leaned in, towards her ear— “No holding back, alright, ma biche?”

Serena’s face warmed under the pressure, but she whispered back, “Only if you do the same.”

Removing herself from that moment, so quick it could’ve never happened, Miette gave her that fierce grin again. In a sing-song voice she said, “Well, it’s been… enlightening being with you all, but I must get ready for the stage. Got to look my best as a winner!” She gave them all a farewell wave before walking away, her Slurpuff perking up before trotting after her assured footsteps.

And Serena sighed, staring forward. There was so much riding on this. And she couldn’t pretend… that she didn’t care. That she didn’t want to prove her worth, no matter how much or little it actually was. Ash caught her focused gaze and nodded, sitting closer to her. “Getting fired up, are we?”

Her hand clenched by her side— ready for a whisk, to whip up airy lightness and turn the oven dial to the perfect temperature. “I… I’m going to do my best. For everyone.”

“That’s the way! Just show ‘em what you know and the rest will follow.” He put down his arm, which he punched the air with in his exclamation, still smiling despite it all. “You know, Serena…”

Serena’s heart thudded in her chest at the way Ash’s voice turned, a lot more quieter and contemplative than it usually got. A bit like their nighttime conversations, brief and sparse as they were.

Ash kept looking forward, but then again— isn’t that what he always did? He never faltered. He kept challenging things despite the results. He kept getting stronger. And evidently he held that same unshakeable faith in his friends as he continued with, “You know, I think you’re going to do great! So don’t hold back. Never give up until it’s over, right?”

Those words… back at Summer Camp, in a faraway region, a different version of themselves.

She was a different version of herself, now. After everything that they’ve done on this journey, which wasn’t a lot and yet still could be classified as abnormal and strange, she’s learnt so much and done things she would’ve never imagined. And all by the side of friends she would’ve never dreamed of having. Lest of all sparking up the connection between herself and Ash (even if those feelings still twist in her stomach at the thought of that, for whatever reason).

Clemont had just come back from wrestling Chespin away from Slurpuff’s retreating form, turning his head to look at both Serena and Ash before groaning. “Ash said something inspirational and I missed it, didn’t I?”

“It’s really not much,” Bonnie said in reply before Chespin managed to wriggle free and all the Pokémon swarmed her in the resulting confusion.

The results were announced.

Miette was one of the highest of course. Serena’s fingers dug into her skirt as she kept hoping against hope, her heartbeat drowning out all words nearby except for her own name, please, please, she never wanted so badly—

“—And Serena are permitted to move to the last and final round.”

Her breath slipped out of her slightly open mouth. She… got in. She got in.

Fennekin yipped as she headbutted the underside of her Trainer’s chin, causing her teeth to clack and Serena to wake up from the daze with a massive smile on her face. “I got in!” she yelled.

“We know!” the others yelled back, laughing, and they hugged, and her heart was flooded with even more love, if that was possible.

She could do it. She could still win. It was still possible.

(Even when the crowds started to fill up the outdoor auditorium.

Even when the call for competitors came and a sizable group came forward.

Even when she took up her cooking station, Fennekin besides her and Miette taking the one beside her.

Even then, that conviction burned strong: Never give up.

This isn’t over yet.)

The final round: food for both people and Pokémon.

The hardest part, arguably. It’s not often that one would have to think in such a way, and it was clear that this was a hurdle that even the most experienced had struggled with, considering how little traction such concoctions would gain. Which was a strange though to Serena: after all, shouldn’t people and Pokémon be united in most fronts? 

All living things eat, drink, and sleep, among other things. But also everyone has their own differences. It was the mark of an expert to be able to balance the line between equity and equality, and while Serena was no master chef nor aspiring to be one, she still wanted to give it her all.

So she got out the pots, the bowls, the utensils required. Her hair dried up, her apron ready for the mess ahead of them, her face ready.

Serena was ready. So was Fennekin. And with one shared nod, they were off.

The basics were easy enough to procure. As always Serena defaulted to baking classes, her bench stained enough with their presence. Flour, milk, water to balance the milk. Didn’t want the base to overpower the cream, in that regard.

The idea started to solidify in her head the more time passed. Something fluffy, light, and yet filling. Cream alongside distilled Berry juice, whisked while heated to a bubble. Sugar, cornstarch and salt, eggs added in afterwards, a melding of both mixtures over heat until custard has been made.

“Forty minutes left!”

Miette glanced over her with a guarded look before nodding at what she saw, turning back to her own pots and bowls as Slurpuff assisted with Psychic. Fennekin huffed through her nose as she once again used Ember to aid in the heating process, causing Serena to smile as she put the custard in the fridge and got started with the pastry.

“You can do it!”

The crowd was obviously at the edge of their seats with the competition— food enthusiasts as both people who were experienced or interested in the act as well as those who got plain hungry were all salivating at the smells produced as time ticked on. Serena chanced a look at the stand in front of her and blushed at the laser-focused look Ash was giving her, shifting her attention back with Fennekin’s bark. Right. The piping bag for the pastry.

“Twenty-five minutes! This is looking tight, folks!”

There were flurries of activity all around. While Serena didn’t know at the time, sharing the same stage was a man with a Sentret diligently checking the time for their dough to rise, a girl with a female Meowstic managing multiple bowls at once, a woman with a Farfetch’d slicing up Berries for their finishing touches for their tower, a young man with a Skitty batting at the whisk with a cute mewl. All of them pursued this competition for one reason or another— none of them wanted to lose, even if some of their ambitions were more ambivalent than others. And before, or rather usually, that would get Serena to pause just for a bit.

To wonder if she deserved this chance. If she was actually using it well or just wasting time, energy, faith. If it was even right to do it in the first place.

But being beside Miette… Having her own friends recommend her to this… Fennekin using her fire to help in any way she could… Serena couldn’t let them down. She couldn’t let herself down from this feeling as it were, strangely freeing and light.

The timer ticked on, bowls stacked up in sinks and ovens blazed with heat. Icings were made and checked over, a combination of flavours to ensure the winning match, and little decorations were made with edible pastry or tempered chocolate. And still Serena persisted, putting her heart and soul into it, remembering how much she had enjoyed making sweets for the people she loved and helping out with food-related problems whenever possible.

To make them happy.

“Five minutes to go!”

Serena wanted to make someone happy.

“Time’s up!”

She breathed heavily as she removed herself from the workstation, Fennekin hopping off the counter to stand by her side. Her creation was a hodgepodge of things, to be honest, but the flavour and meaning will shine through. She’s done the best that she could with the time and ingredients that she had. “We’ve done it,” she said to Fennekin, who yipped at her before pawing at the apron. Serena looked down and winced, dusting herself off. She really did get invested in this, didn’t she?

Unbiddened, her mind drifted to how her self-proclaimed rival fared. She turned her head to face Miette, who was scanning the other competitors before her eyes rested onto Serena’s. “Wow, what a surprise. You really can’t make your mind up about things, can you, Sere?”

“Who said it had to be one kind of recipe?” Serena retorted, holding her head high. Miette shrugged as she looked away, to where the announcer was calling up the contestants, asking for the name of their creation before they put it down for display. The man next to them had just left, talking about crueller with a powerful jolt of Tamato and Citrus Berries added to the mix, and then it was Serena’s turn.

She took a breath. Let go of Fennekin, who jumped to the ground and stood by her side. Dusted off her hands once more and took up the plate full of her ideas, even if they were a mix of everything and then some, because this is what she’s made to represent the bond between people and Pokémon, and no one else could define that for her.

A different angle. A different opportunity. Why not take what she has been handed? Why not give to those who are willing to listen?

“So, Miss Serena, willing to show us what you’ve got?”

She channeled every bit of single-minded intensity as she looked to the camera and grinned, holding out her dish with style and grace. “Ta-da! And hello, everyone. I’ve made… Well, a cake! But it’s not just any cake, because as you can see there’s a lot of details everywhere you look, just like how people and Pokémon can have lots of details that make them who they are. For example I’ve based the cake itself on profiteroles, which I’d like to think are kind of like a human version of PokéPuffs but without the icing above it— don’t worry, I’ve added a very tasty filling. The sides have palmiers, and each coloured swirl here? A different Berry flavour! There’s no name for this, not really, but I would call this gâteau d'amitié— a friendship cake! So, bon appétit!”

Serena still felt giddy after her presentation, her heart skipping every few beats as if still riding that high. There was Miette’s dish, which was a lemon crunch cake blended with the combination of Rawst and Mago Berries. A cool and refreshing cake, tried and true though not without its own challenging edges, as she had said. Serena didn’t miss the look she sent at her.

But what did it matter? The results were decided right when the timer went off, and she wasn’t going to have any regrets. Rejoining her friends and talking to them, she realised that she never really felt this light before.

“That was incredible!”

“Are you going to make that for us every day?”

“Don’t be greedy, you two.”

“Even though I didn’t win?”

“Serena, I don’t have nearly as much of a sweet tooth and even I wanted to eat it.”

“Not if I eat yours and mine!”

“Ash!”

“Who said I’m going to make one each for everyone?!”

“Oh-oh I know, I can ask the nice connoisseur lady to be a keeper, and then she’ll have to make Serena win, and then we’ll have this whole we—”

“Stop that thought right there.”

“Do you think they still have some of her cake backstage?”

Not truly light. Not by a long shot. But having confronted Rhyhorn racing and now this, a baking competition, she didn’t feel so alone with the burden of her past anymore. Her past didn’t define her, not really— and this just proves it. Win or lose, she would have done her best, and that… that’s good enough for her.

Footsteps stopped beside her and the chatter and laughter around her started to die down. Serena looked back.

And there was Miette, her Slurpuff beside her, looking so small from that distance. “You’re not upset?” she demanded, hands on her hips as she leaned forward.

Serena shook her head, not deigning to stand up. “Why should I? I did my best. I learnt and tried something new, and no matter what that will always mean something.” She looked down at her lap, where the dusty apron sat. It had never seen so much action before in its life. Somehow, the fact that she had pushed herself taht much was exhilarating, even if it were terrifying. Turning her gaze back to Miette, she drily replied, “Are you?”

The girl scoffed. “This is just one of your run-of-the-mill competitions— those harvest festivals spawn so many of them across the region. Not even on social media this one is widely known. This little hitch on the road? It’s just one tiny piece of the rest of my career.” Her grin turned strong and sharp. “Because I’m learning too.”

“That’s good.”

“It should be!”

Both of them held eye contact, a steady stream of invisible contact, before Serena broke off first. “Doesn’t that mean you have somewhere else to be, then?”

Miette looked taken aback at that before her expression morphed to distaste as she put her hands up. “Woe is me for even spending a bit of time next to the busy little Combee.”

“That’s not what I mean!”

“Is it now? So you didn’t make your own PokéVision video?” She laughed at Serena’s reaction. “I know what I saw, I’d recognise you anywhere. I’d say you’re copying me but it’s not like you knew much about what I’m doing, anyways. …No matter what though, it’s good to see you around, Serena. I mean it.” Miette stuck a hand out, her expression softening. “About time you finally started to grow up.”

Serena’s hand jerked forward, as if tugged by the string of chance and fate, before she hesitated and looked down. Miette grabbed it anyways and yanked her up, Serena almost stumbling into a half hug as the former murmured in her ear, “But your dreams haven’t become much clearer, have they? You’ve got to make a move before someone else does, ma biche, or otherwise nothing will change and you’ll be left in the dust.” 

Miette then pushed her away, looking for all the world normal as she then patted her on the back. “Make good choices, Sere, and make sure to keep growing. Hopefully the next time we meet you’ll actually have decided on something for once. ” 

Their hands distanced and she gave a small smile at that, Serena feeling heat disappear just like before. Her mouth finally connected to her brain and she babbled out, “W-What are you doing next?”

“Hmm, should I tell you?” Miette pressed a finger over her mouth, almost high enough to signal sealed lips, before laughing. “Gee, maybe you shouldn’t change, you’re so funny when you get like that! For your information, I’m building up the foundations of my glorious dream. Can’t be a master chef without credentials! Little outings like this help me gain more presence, and I collect what I can to show my best side. So for now I’ll be drifting around the region doing what I can to refine my skills.” 

“Good luck with that!” Bonnie called out. Everyone turned to her and she mumbled something about being nice, but Miette cracked a grin and waved at her all the same.

“Good luck to you as well,” the aspiring pâtissier said, giving a glance at Serena. “Especially with her.”

“Hey!”

“May your journey be good to you,” Clemont added, and Ash chimed in with a very unnecessary, “I bet Serena could beat you in PokéVision as well!” in return.

She couldn’t believe him! “Ash, no!”

He laughed as he eyed Miette, that stubborn glint in his gaze, and she stared at him back with the same intensity. “You’ve got some fun friends, Sere. Treasure them well.”

Serena grounded herself as she looked between the two before pushing them both away. “Okay, that’s enough of that. Miette, you should get your pictures or whatever before this whole place gets forgotten. And Ash—”

Ash gasped as if something had just hit him, scrambling up and running towards the stage. “I forgot I needed to ask them about your food!”

“Not again,” Clemont groaned as Bonnie scrambled to her feet and tried to call Ash back, their group of Pokémon conspicuously gone as well. Oh well. It is what it is.

Miette raised an eyebrow at Serena’s apologetic face and archly said, “So? Aren’t you going to get your dream boy back?” and the inventor beside then bursted into an undignified laugh-snort as Serena ran over to tackle her… friend, she guessed.

Acquaintance was too distant, after all, and Miette was within reach, now.

—(-)—

Night fell by the Pokémon Centre and it was by pure coincidence that Serena caught Clemont walking out of the dorms with a huge (physical) weight and a guilty look on his face.

She had just finished establishing a (loose, it was loose) connection with Miette over shared Trainer ID codes and PokéVision accounts when she had heard the sounds once more. It was only by chance that she had, to be honest— it was dark out and she was tired. Bone-weary even. Her eyes laid on the contraption that was not-so-sneakily hidden from her. “Was that supposed to be for me?” she asked, all the pieces spotting in her mind. He question. The absent-mindedness the last few days. Before their latest visit to Lumiose, when he said he would build her something. She didn’t expect it to be true, after this time. Serena’s made a lot of gifts for people, not always of true intentions, but she couldn’t recall many times that the reverse had happened for herself.

Clemont’s sneakers scuffed the ground in front of them as he hurriedly said, “It doesn’t matter. You—you’ve said what you meant. And it was just a test run, to see if I could do it since it’s been a while anyways, maybe I could even let my dad sell it and—”

“Clemont.” His body locked up and he instinctively looked at her, blue eyes to blue. She gave him a small smile. “It’s fine. I like it. If it’s from you, then I’m sure it couldn’t be all that bad.” She then paused, narrowing her eyes. “It’s explosion-proof, right?”

“We can only hope.” He cracked his own small smile in response to her huff. “It’s fine. You forget that I used to live in a home appliance store; I know these things like the back of my hand. …Even after all this time.” He held out the terribly wrapped gift and muttered, “I didn’t predict that you’d take up a baking competition so soon though.”

She took it, ready for its weight and feeling it over. It felt exactly how she would’ve expected it to feel. Serena looked over the gift and grinned at his words. “And I thought the future was supposed to be now?” she teased lightly, and his cheeks reddened.

“Not like that!” Clemont yelped in response, but there was a lightness in it that wasn’t present before.

Serena shrugged. “If that’s what you say.” Then, more lower, she said, “I’m glad to see you making something though.”

His smile became more softer as his gaze touched the ground. “Yeah. I… didn’t know what to invent these last few weeks. Felt like I was in a rut, and even after what happened in Lumiose, nothing I made would feel right to me. But seeing you go through all those Pokémon Centres made me realise how much you liked baking, and reminded me of how I had wanted to help out somehow. It also reminded me of how I started inventing in the first place. Then the idea just… clicked.” He let out a quiet laugh as he brushed the back of his head. “Hope you don’t mind being my test subject this once.”

There was so much in that— the way that Clemont was struggling with making something new, the way that Serena trying to busy her hands had inspired him somehow, the way he saw her pushy as something worthy, as inspiration. She couldn’t help herself from blurting out, “As long as it makes you happy,” and the implications of that hung in the air, as heavy as thunder.

Clemont regarded her with a searching gaze. It was so easy to just call her out on that. To ask the real question. To peel her down to her roots in one fell swing.

Instead, Clemont just let that smile come back on his face. “I am, thanks. And I hope that will make you happy as well.” His eyes lit up as his movement became more animated, his legs quickly facing the room he excited before he turned back and said, “Oh, but, I haven’t told you how it works, right? We can try it out tomorrow if you like. We can even try it against the equipment at the Pokémon Centre to really test out all of its capabilities and compare its function against superset counterparts.”

She gave a surprised laugh, hefting up the machine higher and looking down at it. “So it’s not just a mixing machine.”

His huff was bordering on affronted. “Just a mixing machine’? Oh no, this is way more than that. And now it’s giving me more ideas, like an even better camera, or a training machine, but what kind—”

“Woah, slow down.” Clemont’s crazed gaze rested on her and she almost flinched, but she stood her ground. Gently, she added, “Tomorrow, remember?”

He started to shake his head, before reversing the action with a nod. “I… I guess so. I just, I don’t want to lose the idea, and all my books are full. I doubt I’ll remember it if I put it on my tablet either.”

“Then give me a second.” Serena quickly entered her room quietly, placing the machine by the foot of her bed, far away from where a sleepy Bonnie may tread, before rummaging around in her bag for the item she needed, barely hesitating all the while. Once again exiting and readjusting her eyes to the lighting of the corridor, she then held out the item in question. “For your ideas.”

Clemont gingerly took the notebook, his calloused fingers brushing against hers for a millisecond. “Uh, thank you.” His face was still pink when he belatedly barked out, “But I was supposed to give you a gift!”

Serena shrugged, unable to stifle a small laugh. “Who said only one person can get a gift? Think of this as… an exchange, if it helps. We both get something good.”

“I guess.” He held the floral-patterned book to his chest before nodding definitively. “Thank you, Serena. I’ll make full use of it!”

“And thank you, Clemont. I’ll do the same with mine.” They both nod at each other before parting ways, a trade-off made and hearts lifted, the night being just a bit more clear for it.

But still, there was something that must be done. A question still hanging in her eyes. And by the imperceptible tilt as Clemont entered his own shared room, Serena realised that a small opening was out there.

(As always, when it came to him, she took it.)

“Ash… About the Summer Camp. Do you… remember now?”

He gave her an uncertain shrug. It was night. This was one of their night talks. This will be one of the best answers Serena will get for a long time to come. She doesn’t know it yet. “Ah, not really. But I made sure to ask Professor Oak about it on my last call, just to jog my memory. It will take a while though, it’s been a long time since then.” Ash looked up at the sky, with all of its twinkling lights. Serena tried to do the same, tried to see what he saw. She didn’t know if she had gotten close. “You’re lucky he was the only one available. I could’ve asked Gary about it instead.”

“Gary…?” The only clear part about him to Serena was that sharp nasally voice, one that always needled at Ash. There was also something else, about her trying to talk him down to some…. mixed results. “Wasn’t he your rival?”

Ash barked out a laugh, a long deep one. “Ha. Rival. Yeah, he used to be. I guess he still is one, but he changed. Battling isn’t his main job anymore.”

“Then what is?”

The Kantonian’s eyes held the shine of hundreds of stars in the sky. He simply said, “Being a researcher. Just like his grandpa, I know, he knows. Can’t say that to his face though without him getting all puffed up about it.” He pouted to himself and Serena smiled, looking back at the view in front of them.

Someone from the past, different tracks of life. Ash stayed true to his dream, just like Miette. “I never would’ve guessed.”

“Me neither. He just… changed, somewhere between Kanto and Johto. We weren’t travelling together, if that’s what you think. It was our second journey, though, and at the League, after our battle, Gary just told me.” He let out a long sigh, his gaze fixed at the sky. “Better then than now, I guess. It’s nice to know that he trusted me with knowing.”

“Oh.” They both sat in silence for a bit. Comfortable silence. Serena’s mind couldn’t stop going back to the past— to a little Ash throwing dirt towards a Professor’s grandson. To a young Miette laughing at the flour that exploded on a Rhyhorn racer’s daughter. How friendships changed. How people change. How home still stayed within them all regardless of time and space.

“I’ve been thinking…” It was then when Serena’s head turned to Ash in surprise, and he chuckled at the expression on her face as he held his hands up. “Hey, I can think!”

“Rarely,” she muttered. He elbowed her but she dodged it, and he gave her a pleading look in return. Underneath the night sky. He was lucky that she knew his face enough to tell.

She waved a hand out at him. “Okay, go on, Monsieur Thinker.”

Ash beamed and her heart ached, a feeling that she hasn’t really gotten used to even after all this time. But then his expression turned sober and he sat up straighter, looking almost… scolded? “I shouldn’t have challenged Miette for you like that.”

Serena opened her mouth and he put a hand out. “Before you tear me a new one, just know that… I never saw you look so sad, before. Or defeated. And,” his hand clenched by his side, “I couldn’t do much of anything to help you.”

“You don’t have to help me,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “You’re my friend. Of course I’ll help. But I can’t help but feel like I made things worse, somehow.”

“It was always going to be this way.” He turned to her and she shrugged. “Miette’s a lot like you. She takes everything as a challenge and she never backs down. This time her sight is set on me. But… you’ve helped me bear with it— No, you helped me face it. What we have now isn’t great, I’ll admit, but now, now I feel like I can do something about it. Like I’m breaking out of my shell and finally growing up.”

Ash nodded wisely. “Like a Metapod.” He quickly dodged her hands and grinned at her, his hat tipped askew just like his laugh. “What?! It’s true.”

“You just had to make it weird!”

“You’re the one saying that you’re breaking out of a shell! How am I supposed to respond to that?”

“By thinking before speaking?”

“I’ll have you know that I thought that line before!”

These moments were so precious— and selfishly, Serena hoarded them all to her chest, not sharing a single one. She was scared of losing this. She was scared of it changing to something unrecognisable. She was scared of them becoming strangers at some distant point of time, just like before, and never having this kind of connection again.

For a moment, she was scared of the morning to come, too, which is why she lingered by the door that Ash had just passed through. The door was the barrier. There was a thin line splitting them apart, ground and linoleum, and she swallowed before looking up at his face.

His eyes still sparkled with the stars behind her as they softened. Somehow, being indoors had inspired some modicum of sense into him, because when he opened his mouth, the words were kind and open and honest. “…I have no idea what’s between you and her, but you should also know that we’re always here for you. “

Serena blinked, her own eyes reflecting the clinical nature of the Pokémon Centre behind him. Reflections upon reflections that will only last a second in reality and disappear far sooner still. “…Thanks, Ash.”

His mouth upturned into that familiar signature of strength. “That’s what friends are for, right? Now c’mon, we’ve got a long day ahead of us!” And he pulled her in by the hand, towards dreamland and the next morning ahead, his laugh still ringing in her head.

He’s always running ahead. It was all she could do to catch up, but maybe for now, that was enough.

v V v

The way she came into her life was like a blaze of opinions and wants too big for a sleepy town with spare vegetation and even fewer new blooms. She was always sticking her nose in others business; always fighting the bigger fight, no matter how unbalanced it was against her, no matter who benefitted from such. And yet somehow, it was all Serena could do to avoid her until their meeting was inevitable.

“Is that the best you can do, Eric? Get your own life!” The footsteps receded before the voice went and spoke to her. “Hey, you! String bean! Stop crying. It’s not like the flowers want your tears anyways.”

“I’m… I’m not crying!” But her cheeks were wet, and her voice wobbled, and Serena was never going to live this down. She hated Vaniville. She hated this town so much, she wished her mother would just get another job and leave this place forever.

But the girl in front of her scoffed, blue hair shaking with the action. “Gee, could you at least make a more believable lie?”

Serena shook her head. The girl bit her lip, stumped, before releasing her breath in a roar, nothing like the tiny wisp that she would make. “Wait! Didn’t you, like, try to bring Teacher some cookies the other day? C’mon, I saw it, no need to hide! I mean, though, it was very mushy lookin’. Don’t think she’d eat that.”

“Stop it,” Serena whined, folding herself up. When did she exchange one sort of agony for another? She just wanted to go home.

The girl shook her head, shaking her hair out in the process. “I’m just being honest! Look, better me than Teacher— she’ll just pretend that it’s all good and then throw it away while you’re not lookin’. And it’s not like I’m telling you this for nothin’!” The girl leaned closer in, until she was practically sharing warmth with her, and whispered, “I can help you make world-class cookies!”

Back then, Serena’s eyes twinkled with that promise. She could believe anything back then, as long as it gave her an escape and was just like it was out of a fantasy. This girl had saved her from other people. This girl, to her, was incredible. “Really?”

“Yeah! My parents, they own a bakery, and I use it every day for my secret goal. But you can’t tell anyone, you’ve gotta promise me that.”

She nodded her head fervently. “Okay, okay, I won’t tell anyone!”

The girl’s grin grew wider as she trilled, “Promise?”

“I promise! Please can you tell me?”

“Hmm.” She backed off for a moment and for whatever reason, Serena was left grasping at what warmth was left. The girl, oblivious to this, crossed her arms and declared, “You’ve gotta show me how good you are in the kitchen first.”

Serena pouted as she crossed her own arms, facing away. “Aww, you said you’re going to let me know!”

“And I will! But I can’t just tell anyone, you know. They’ve gotta be serious about it, and I gotta know that they’re serious too. This is the dream of the great and wonderful Miette after all, which is me.” Miette put a hand out as an offering, towards Serena in the ground, and gave that grin she always had on her face— slightly feline, tricky, but better yet, all trust focused on her. On Serena. As she was, and not what people thought she could be. “So, tomorrow are you free? We’ve got cookies, after all!”

And with both feet on Vaniville soil, Serena took up Miette’s offer and walked together, hand in hand, towards that (un)certain future together— the start of something new, here, too.