something you're not

Serena’s been having a little trouble defining herself lately, but having to wait so long to have the chance to explore that has left her feeling rather ambivalent about the whole ordeal. After all, her chance will have to come for her someday. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), a chance encounter with a particular undertaking she’s been avoiding has given her a chance to view things differently, or at the very least, strengthen her resolve against it.

In the end, though, it’s all the same to her, so hopefully something changes. Hopefully.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

In a Pokémon Centre on a long and twisting road, Serena’s hand shook mere centimetres from the phone.

It was early morning. Her mother would be awake by now, right? She could… call. Reassure her that she’s okay, alright, alive and doing well. She willed her hand forward, but she couldn’t do much more than hold the handle.

Can’t call, can’t text, can’t send a message. What kind of daughter was she?

(The kind to not lie.)

Yeah. She couldn’t call her mother, because if she did then her mother would ask about Rhyhorn practice, and Serena still hasn’t done it yet. It wasn’t like there were any spare Rhyhorn around! She definitely couldn’t take her mother’s partner either, and she doubted her mother would be keen to part with him no matter how much she wanted Serena to improve. And for finding a ranch that could provide one… Well…

Her grip grew tighter as she gritted her teeth. This was her journey. A journey of a lifetime. She wasn’t going to spend it doing the same old tricks she’s practiced and failed at home. And she didn’t want to confront her mother about it, because that always got messy, and unlike before, they were so far from each other. East-to-west far. Serena couldn’t risk their relationship ending up being just as distant, either.

Breathing out, she distanced herself away from the phone booth and let her hands stay by her side, all the tension starting to slip from her body. She could try tomorrow, maybe. Or next week. There’ll be a better time to call, and when she finds it, she’ll take the opportunity. After all, her mother would want results.

And Serena wanted to make her proud, just this once.

Walking back to the room she had exited, she let out a long sigh. It never got easier, holding herself in like this. Maybe… today she’ll find something worth showing.

At this point, it was the only hope she had of salvaging things, so it’s no biggie… right?

Being the daughter of a famous Rhyhorn Racer meant that Serena’s path was decided the day she was born, or perhaps even before that. It was a career that her mother wore proudly— winning races across the globe, not stopping for anything, taking back gold wherever she put her name down on. It was a legacy that her mother wanted her to uphold as well.

These days, weeks, months, have had Serena thinking differently. Sitting inside the commons room of the Pokémon Centre, she sipped at her cup as she checked through her portable’s storage. There’s too many three-second videos of darkness and giggles, which were cute in retrospect but also took up a lot of space. Methodologically deleting those, as well as scuffed shots of various individuals and places, she thought about the journey she had undertaken.

There’s still no solid dream, sadly, but she’s learnt a lot. She would’ve never expected Ash to take her in the way he did, but thinking about it made her realise that of course he would do that. This was the same boy who had strived to get her involved in the camp activities when they were younger, who over-explained every little detail as if her understanding it by his hand was meant to be. And with time he's only become even more altruistic, more open, more accepting (and maybe a bit more good-looking too).

And the people she’s met, the places she’s been, the Pokémon she’s encountered— all of that has been worth it. Serena glanced down at Fennekin, who had just finished her meal and was lapping at the water bowl, feeling some warmth settle on her cheeks. Her partner. Her friend. A Pokémon willing to go through thick and thin, by her side, despite it all.

She was so, so lucky.

“Hey! Are we going or what?” Serena turned her head to where Ash was lounging around taking up three seats with his back, Pikachu sitting atop his stomach as the boy groaned.

She snapped the compact computer shut and said to him, teasingly, “You look like you’re about to fall asleep, so I think I should be asking you that question.”

He waved a hand out slowly, before letting it flop beside him. “No point in standing up if no one is around.”

Serena let out a faux cry, leaning forward. “I’m no one? Oh my. Oh dear. You must be going mad, then, talking to no one at all.”

Ash’s eyes narrowed as he looked up at the ceiling. “Stop that.”

“—said the poor man to his ghosts.”

“Serena.”

“Let the records show that you called me no one first.” Standing up, Serena tucked the device into her right pocket before stretching her arms out, placing them on her hips when she was done. “I cannot let such uncouthness escape this Pokémon Centre, nor such bad posture! And look, you’re taking up too much space like that! What if someone needs the seats?”

“You’re not my mother,” Ash grumbled, and there was a twinge of awkwardness that flooded Serena at the words. At that moment Fennekin pawed at the tip of her sneakers, and she grabbed the Starter and held her tight to her chest as she let that feeling go.

“Haha, yeah…” she murmured, voice lower than before. Pikachu’s ears perked up at that, but before anyone could do anything, Bonnie ran out of the lodging wing looking out of breath and with a few elements positioned incorrectly. Serena stifled a laugh as Fennekin shook her head morosely, Ash scrambling to his feet in the meantime to see the newcomer (and avoid blame if it were Nurse Joy).

The younger girl looked right and left before her gaze caught onto the two, her face splitting into a wide grin. “I’m so sorry I overslept; it was the beds, they were so cozy! Can we go— Hey, why are you laughing?”

Unable to hold in the giggle, Serena waved a hand over her body before pointing to Bonnie. Ash caught into the issue and the confusion lifted away from his narrowed eyes, his laugh much more boisterous to make up for it. Bonnie looked down and groaned in exasperation, realising the problem. “I’m never dressing up in the dark again.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Serena agreed, and she waved at Bonnie with one hand as she rolled her eyes and made her way back to the room.

“Man, that was funny.” Ash wiped a tear as he sat right side up, on one chair this time, and Serena gave him a short nod. It was a small enough mistake, harmless and amusing in retrospect, but her mind couldn’t stop lingering on every reminder of what she had escaped.

No, not escaped. Delayed. Ignored. Pushed to the side, but ultimately still lurking at the corner of her mind. Shaking her head, Serena breathed out before adjusting her grip on Fennekin, who was busy making faces at Pikachu, before settling her mind once more.

Today was going to be a better day. She’ll find something soon. And all this indecision, this worry, this flatness of being—

It’ll be as if it never existed.

And it’ll be worth it. It has to be.

Clemont’s trying to build something.

He doesn’t announce it, as others would expect him to. He always builds away from people, on his own, twisting and shaping and making something out of nothing, out of the materials and the phantasmal thoughts he has. It’s one of the ways that he is a prodigy. Whenever he pulled out an invention it was one of the many prototypes that he had borne of inspiration— of what was happening around him, a veritable real-world application. Heading through a forest with many Pokémon? An attractor/repellent. Maybe a translator. A Gym that utilised a speed-reducing strategy? An invention replicating the same effect (and what an earful he got out of that one, once a certain reporter had gossiped to her sister). Tools to help get by situations that would’ve been hard to navigate on one’s lonesome.

The problem isn’t that he’s building something, which is what everyone expected of him. For once, it’s that he doesn’t know what to build.

After all, how does someone build for fun? And what would that even look like?

He sighed, another wide-open book beside him, another page scribbled out. He’s actively losing brain cells like this. If only everyone could see him now. He’s wasting so many pages like this, ideas like this, cognitive function like this. He has to do better.

Clemont opened the blinds with sunlight searing into his eyes. He’s been at it for too long as it was. Rubbing it with a groan, he felt around his pocket until he found a wipe and cleaned his glasses, putting them back onto his face and rubbing at his eyes underneath for good measure. His brain hurt but he forced himself to get dressed, his gaze resting on the tossed aside blanket beside him. He could recall the moment Ash’s breathing went from steady to disrupted, signalling the end of his sleep cycle, but Clemont didn’t want to leave his bed just yet, especially with the prospect of being alone with Ash.

Before their last visit to Lumiose? A boon, a chance that he would take a thousand times over.

Now? Too awkward to even entertain within his headspace.

Especially after the talk they had in the Day Care.

Twisting his wrists to let blood flow return, Clemont shouldered his bag and opened the door, almost walking right into his sister. Said sibling was patting down her sides the whole time she walked down the corridor, her obsessive movements paused as soon as she locked eyes with Clemont. Just as soon as he opened his mouth, Bonnie blurted, “My clothes are on the right way, right?”

His thought process suddenly screeched to a halt. “What?”

“My clothes!” Bonnie stretched out her shirt, almost exposing what was underneath and— Argh, it’s too early for this. He smoothed down the offending piece of clothing, shaking his head and walking forward. Bonnie quickly matched his pace and swung her hands out from side to side, wide awake and ready to embrace the day.

Today, Clemont was going to make something for fun. He didn’t really know what that would look like, but next to him was someone who thrived on enjoying every bit of every day. Maybe he could—

“We’re here!” Bonnie announced loudly, spinning around in a circle before ending it with a woozy curtsy. “How do I look?”

“The right way in,” Ash said straightforwardly, trying to hold in another laugh. Bonnie stuck her tongue out at him before exaggeratedly stomping away, and Ash looked at him before giving a cheeky smile.

Clemont decided to stick with family and give him a frown in return. “So, we’re ready to leave?”

“Only if you are.” Ash slid off the chairs and gestured towards the doors with exaggeration, causing Clemont to roll his eyes as he walked towards it. Bonnie was already ahead of them, calling them to hurry up, and it was almost perfect.

Almost. “Where’s Serena?” he called before he crossed the doors themselves.

"Outside and waiting!" a voice returned. Both Ash and Bonnie raised an eyebrow at him and he shook his head, resigning himself to walk out. Ah well. So much for some extra rest.

(Still, he couldn't help but smile when he saw everyone waiting for him, ready to start today together.)

They were all walking down a path.

The path was long and in a line. Before, there was just grass and grit, so it was good that they’ve found something flat to walk on. This path seemed to stretch on to some unknowable point. The chatter around her had died down, tiredness sinking into them. It’s midday. Sooner or later they’ll take a break.

Serena let her hands swing by her side, her gaze catching into the trees that bent over the road like a roof. An arch. Something naturally twisted into the shape of something man-made. Are some path designs used in parts of the region more often than others? Serena could’ve sworn she’s seen this before.

(Like in a photo. Like on TV. But where?)

She decided to broach the subject. “Does anyone remember walking on a road like this before?”

Ash shrugged. Bonnie mumbled something about how there was nothing interesting here to even remember. Clemont opened his mouth, thought better of it, and pulled up a map instead.

So, no help. Or at least no recollection. Was it just her then?

Walking across a familiar path, Serena swallowed the tension building up throughout her chest and bubbling in her throat. This road was densely packed with dirt, hard and solid underneath her feet. There was an odor of sweat permeating the air, and a cloud of fine dusting rising from the horizon. The sound of clawed hooves cracked the air like thunder.

The what? “Everyone, get off the track!” she yelled, quickly making her way up the steep sides of the road. The track. A track made for racing Pokémon. How could she have not known until now?

There was a moment of hesitation before the thundering of heavy bodies became a constant sound, and then a mad rush erupted. There were crinkling papers, jumping, clawing, and even if Serena was a little off-put at how nobody actually trusted what she said the first time, she still outstretched a hand to help her friends up, making sure that everyone was on the same level. It was only when Bonnie had finally cleared the gap when everyone breathed easy, and not a moment too soon, either.

In front of them, through the trees, they could see the Rhyhorn charging forward.

Ash immediately leaned forward, excitement in his eyes. “Wow, they’re actually running pretty fast!”

“That’s because they’re racing,” Clemont drily replied, although he also seemed intrigued by what was before them.

The people below didn’t spare them a single glance, dead-set on reaching the coveted spot. While Serena’s heard plenty about the sport, it’s the first time she’s seen it in person, and watching it all unfold was—

(“C’mon, chouchou, put your back into it!”)

She averted her gaze, shaking herself from the thought. Picking herself up, she dusted off her skirt, ready to resume the trek once more, except… nobody else was doing the same.

Clearing her throat very forcefully seemed to do the trick, though!

So they were on an improvised path, running parallel to their original one. Serena made sure not to look downwards, even if the murmurs and whispers of excitement did reach her ear. It didn’t matter.

Even when she felt a tap. She schooled her expression into nonchalance, managing to keep that expression even when it’s Ash’s earnest face next to her. “Which one are you going for?” he asked, excitement budding in his voice.

Serena sighed. With friends like these, there wasn't much hope she could make a clean break. “I’m not sure,” she answered honestly, gaze fixing to a point up ahead instead. “I didn’t get to see them properly.” And she didn’t want to, she bit back in her mind.

“I think it’s Number 4,” Bonnie interrupted, completely dedicated to her choice.

Ash shook his head, but Clemont beat him to the punch. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s clear that 6 was holding a good pace for the final round, which is key to first place.”

“Except the actual guy in first place!” Even Pikachu shook his head at that, getting Ash to passionately defend his choice and starting up a whole kerfuffle. Serena just held in her breath for a few precious seconds before letting it out, walking forward once more. She will not let it get to her. It’s nobody’s fault, anyways. There’s nothing to get.

The ground started to thud once more. Another lap for the racers. She made sure to dig her feet in, conserving her balance, but by the surprised yelps behind her it seems that not everyone was prepared.

It was only when a cry echoed that Serena turned her head around.

It wasn’t like she could do anything— pure strength wasn’t her strong suit, and she’s never carried anyone other than small Pokémon not even ten kilograms. Saving Clemont’s stumbling form from the stampeding masses below wasn’t something she could do, not in the realm of reality, not even in the realm of possibility.

Even when she wanted to.

Even when she reached out, slower than Bonnie, weaker than Ash.

Luckily for them all, a loud bark heralded the appearance of a much quicker and stronger Pokémon up for the save. Before the inventor could fall even halfway down the hill sharp teeth had hooked into his collar, yanking him up and cutting off his wail to an aborted shout instead. Bonnie still ended up next to the Pokémon a few seconds later, albeit for a completely different reason to her initial run, and Ash crouched over with a relieved sigh at the sight. “Manectric, huh?”

“A strong one,” was Clemont’s tired reply. The Discharge Pokémon didn’t let up his harsh hold, turning his head and swiveling the boy like a ragdoll, or perhaps a particularly disobedient pup. Serena followed its gaze to find a motorcycle stopping just a meter away from them, a woman hanging up her helmet to then scorch the group with a withering glare.

…They probably deserved it. Officer Jenny stomped over to them with all the grace that her boots on trampled ground would allow, projecting her voice over the fading sounds of the race now ahead of them once more. “What were you thinking, trespassing in the middle of a Rhyhorn racetrack? Do you have any concept of safety? For yourself and for the racers involved? There’s a reason why this place is cordoned off from the general public!”

“We’re sorry,” they all chorused, their gazes brushing up by each other. To the others, it was a question of their running luck ending up in strange places. To Serena, it was a plea that this encounter would end.

The officer pushed her bang up, looking uncomfortable about the situation. Letting a sigh whistle between her clenched lips, she then turned her attention to her partner. “Good job, girl. You can let go of him now, there should be no trouble.” The last words were pointed, and Clemont’s wince as he landed on his rump was good enough to encapsulate his bruised pride.

Ever the optimist, though, Ash stepped forward. “We’re really sorry ma’am; I thought that fence was to keep the wild Pokémon out of the town.” He bowed his head for a few short seconds before beaming up at her, adding, “But if it’s no trouble to you, can you show us where we can watch the race happen?”

“…I guess I can take you there. Just—” And her glare was a fierce one as she scanned all of them— “to make sure that you’re not interrupting the race.”

And while cheers rang out and eager footsteps followed, all Serena’s heart could do was drop on her tongue.

Truth be told, the track really was as small as she predicted it to be.

Serena didn’t spend time gawking at it though. She was busy finding a comfortable place to watch, then getting snacks, then bringing out Fennekin for an extra comb over. Even when her hands ran out of things to do, she kept herself from looking at the screen blaring the results of the latest race.

Not because she was scared.

It’s just… why watch something you know you don’t like?

She felt her shoulder jostle and her gaze immediately landed on Bonnie trying to climb the fence. Against her better judgement she pulled the younger girl away, finding herself full of squirming limbs and half-hearted retorts. “Lemme go, I’m just trying to see the race better!”

“There’s nothing to see that needs you to fall face-first on the track,” Serena found herself muttering. At Bonnie’s best impression of a wounded baby Pokémon face, she sighed and let her go— directly on the seat next to her. “Look, you can go up higher and get a better view if you really want to see it all.”

“But it’s going to be too tiny to see anything! And then you’re all going to tell me about the race that I never got to see!” Before Bonnie could go off on a tirade about how, exactly, they’ll spoil the events happening before their eyes, a box was placed in front of her, and with a squeal she quickly got atop it and leaned over the fence with glee.

Serena turned her head to the person who created the set-up, who went back to awkwardly standing in place. “Stepping stool,” Clemont simply replied. “Probably the best thing I got out of the Gym, to be honest.”

She nodded at that. “I can tell.”

His eyes landed on the space around her, looking for something. At her confused look, he explained. “Where did Fennekin go?”

“She… doesn’t like the track.” Her Starter’s been getting a little better about it, but mud and dirt was never her strong suit. Serena wondered if it was something the Pokémon was exposed to and found she disliked, or a fear she nursed by watching the chaos from the sideline. She never asked. She never really needed to know.

But watching a piece of her life, or what was expected of it, play out from the safety of the stands was making her question the most basic of things. In the stead of understanding, she propped up her hands and said, “Or maybe it was the popcorn that drove her off.”

There was a surprised bark of laughter from beside her. “I doubt most living beings could handle that,” Clemont agreed, his half-empty box sitting beside himself.

It gave Serena an idea of sorts. “There is one option…”

His eyes widened before narrowing. “I’m not giving him prepackaged indigestion.”

“Don’t you feel sorry for your own Pokémon? He’s been eating my PokePuffs ever since he first came!” She jabbed a finger forward. “Maybe he’ll learn something new!”

“Like how many years is shaved off his lifespan?” Clemont folded his arms. “Plus I’ve apologised for that.”

“Not for yesterday.”

"Does anyone know where the bins are?" And there was Ash, having polished off his own popcorn and looking satisfied for it. He looked hurried as his eyes kept ping-ponging from the race to them, his legs getting jittery.

There was a mischievous glint that passed over Clemont’s glasses then— one more suited to his sister than himself. “Hey, Ash,” he said, his voice oozing with care. “Do you want to have this?”

Ash’s gaze zeroed in on the popcorn bucket, mouth automatically watering and legs now focused. Without thinking he reached for it, his progress stopped only by the slap on the wrist he got.

“No, he’s not going to have it and you both know it.” Serena stood firm, her brow furrowed on her face.

Still, the Kantonian reached around her. “It’s fine, Serena,” he tried to say as he dodged around her, “It’s not like Clemont wants it.”

“That’s true!” the traitorous boy replied, leaning back. Serena didn't trust his blasé behaviour. Why wasn't he fighting to give it himself?

“He would say that! Look, you have to trust me on this, that thing is bad for your— Hey!” She squawked as the Aipom Arm hand-delivered the oily container to its intended recipient; and Ash, the other traitor, grinned in joy before running off with his loot.

It was… it was downright rude!

Serena wasn’t going to take this lying down.

But before she could chase him down loud cheers drowned out everything around them, and despite herself, despite the problem at hand, she found her eyes drifting off to the track.

To where the winner was, dismounting off his Rhyhorn and giving it a hug.

(If she squinted, she could almost see—)

“Wait, so it was Number 5 all along?” Bonnie cried out, slumping against the fence. Clemont joined her and the two of them chatted about how close their picks were, with Ash leaning closer, and between the three of them there wasn’t much knowledge to justify their choices or their readings on the race itself. Just more assumptions.

Assumptions that would make an expert cower.

Assumptions that any newcomer would have.

Assumptions that didn't matter in the large scale of things.

But it was fine. So fine, in fact, that Serena found herself blurting out, “Considering bulk and the race being geared towards endurance, it was clear that only 2 and 5 had any real hope of winning.”

The chatter stopped.

Her face grew entirely too warm for this kind of weather. What was she thinking? She almost sounded like— like her mother with that attitude and those words! Before she could rescind her statement, Bonnie chirped, “So you were watching!”

“Not really,” she mumbled back. The siblings shared a look before she shook her head, steeling her expression. “This track is a simple one, so the fact that only two of the six racers were experienced shows that this is more on the lower stakes of racing. They’re basically beginners at this stage. Which makes sense, considering this looks local.”

“You sure know a lot about Rhyhorn racing,” Clemont mused. He nodded at her hands. “Pretty passionate about it, too.”

“I’m not passionate—” Her voice broke on that word, and Serena had to clear her throat before continuing. “It’s just basic knowledge.” The kind of basic knowledge a professional would hammer into her child for years on end, anyways.

Thankfully she was saved from saying anything more when the announcement rang across the field. “And that’s for today’s race! For those who are interested, come by tomorrow for the special, a free-for-all run for all those interested! Visit Amina at the stables for more details!”

Without thinking about it, Serena’s hands dug deep into her skirt and poked at the skin beneath. Overlapping that voice was the enthused yells of her mother, the field blending into the one nearby their house, her grip turning the clothes into reins she had to hold onto. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine the ground beneath her bucking and jumping about.

But she didn’t close her eyes. She didn’t bend to the phantom sensations. All she did was stare forward, even when the other people left, even when the stool was taken away, even when all the sound bled away.

Her mother wasn’t here. That daunting future was, though.

What has Serena done since then?

“I want to do it.”

Serena turned to Ash, who had finally come close to her and was now leaning over the railings with something akin to wonder. To joy. With something that she never held when it came to this.

He continued, as if it wasn’t clear enough— “I want to try Rhyhorn racing.” His eyes landed on her, and she tried not to flinch at the determination shining through that wonder. “It looks fun, and it’s a free chance to try something new. You’d probably already know about it, but I’m sure we can all have a good time. At least, if you want to.”

“I—” Serena had already made her mind up about Rhyhorn racing; a career she knew she didn’t want any part in. She cut herself loose from it the moment she stepped outside of Vaniville, she disappointed her mother the moment the plan clicked into her mind. Maybe that stubbornness was one of the many pieces that made up her choice of picking a Fire-Type instead of the effective Grass or Water Types, even before she knew the Type chart by heart. Maybe they were both afraid of the dirt and muck and grime, though from two different perspectives.

But it was just Serena here, a normal human being with a slightly dissatisfactory life, and Ash, extending an offer forward despite her edginess all day. His own version of a peace offering. And… and she knew what he was asking, too.

If she wanted to try it.

Try something new.

She sighed as she faced the racing grounds, watching the Rhyhorn trample across the field with such reckless abandon. She could feel that ghost thudding through her body, as if she was there, racing, and there was a voice in her head that sounded like—

Her teeth bit down on her tongue and steadied her. There was only Ash, and his question, and the whole day.

“Okay.”

She could never say no. Not outright. And not to him.

The Rhyhorn were all looking at her, she just knew it.

It was a struggle to keep a straight face as Ash animatedly explained to the stablekeeper how much of a novice he really was (well not really, because he had participated in a race before, actually more than one race, but not with a Rhyhorn), and Amina kept giving Serena glances as if she expected some sort of… something from her.

Serena didn’t give in. It’s not like she was good at it, after all.

Amina pointed them to the paddock, which is where they are now, watching the eight Rhyhorn mill around. Some of them were openly looking at her. Others were alternating with eating the grass around them or drinking from the trough, but nonetheless Serena kept her cool. So, very cool. Water-cool. Watmel Berry-cool. Ice-cool.

(“That’s so close!” Clemont called as Ash landed on his face, hooves leisurely plodding away.

A thumbs up answered him.)

Bonnie hung off the fence, back faced away from the madness, as she looked at Serena and said, “So… when did you learn about Rhyhorn?”

Serena’s gaze snapped over to her, that cool aspect evaporating. “I, uh, I don’t really know much about it.”

“That’s what you said about watching!” Behind the younger girl, Ash was trying to approach one of the more distant Rhyhorn, in more ways than one. It snorted and turned away, kicking up dust in his face. That bull was antsy— it was best that he didn’t go with it.

She shook her head, focusing on who was in front of her. “I said what I said.”

(“Why did you even do that?” Clemont cried as Ash was flung away from the back of a Rhyhorn tousling with another.

“Thought it was distracted.”)

Bonnie groaned as she pulled one hand away, swinging herself while lolling her head back. “But that’s nothing.” She quickly affixed her hands back onto the gate before a warning could be issued, a huge grin on her face. “C’mon, it can’t be any more embarrassing than, uh, Sleepy Me!”

“Sleepy You is pretty scary, I’ll admit.” Serena kept her distance from the fence, a good few steps away, and yet the whispered clicks reached her ears. Now Ash was trying to lure a recalcitrant Rhyhorn who obstinately stared at the ground. A battle of wills that neither would escape unscathed.

Bonnie glanced back and hummed at what she saw. “Think Ash will ever get a ride?”

“A mount,” Serena corrected, a distant instinct. She thought about the effort the Kantonian poured into just finding a Pokémon that would accept him. It would be so easy to just ask the stablekeeper for help, and yet…

“I wanna connect with them, become a real team! Even though I can’t catch ‘em, I’m sure we can find something to bond over.”

Those words were twirling in her head as she watched Ash finally give up and move onto his next target. This Rhyhorn had its back turned away, nosing around for some tough roots, and by the angle he was approaching it—

“Don’t!” Before she could even think Serena was leaning over the fence, her chest heaving as if it was her facing the consequence of making such an ill-advised move. Ash stopped in his tracks, in the middle of a sneaking motion, and the Rhyhorn he was walking towards lifted its head up.

Even Clemont was giving her his full attention as she pulled herself over the fence, finding it breathtakingly easy after the amount of times she’s done the action at home. It’s similar to sitting on a Rhyhorn in a way— gain a foothold, launch the rest of your body above it, regain balance and control.

Just like calling a Rhyhorn too. She breathed out as she approached the one Ash was beside, her voice steady despite it all. “You have to come from the front,” she explained, placing a hand over its snout as she crouched by it. “Let it see you. Approach it calmly and carefully, but don’t show fear.”

Those brown eyes were aglow with intelligence. This little one… she almost felt like home. “Be gentle.” Giving it a few more pats, she then stood up and looked over at Ash. “Coming from behind will only spook them, and we don’t want a stampede in here.”

Ash also had brown eyes, didn’t he? Those were wide open, his nose flaring as he watched the scene unfold with utmost respect and quiet. It was a little unnerving, to Serena. After all, she’s never been the target of such single-minded focus before, and especially not from him. Not directly.

Slowly, as if scared he’d spook something, he said, “Can you… Can you teach me?”

Serena stiffened up, but then Ash stepped closer with his voice tipping towards pleading. “The race is tomorrow and I’m hopeless at this and you really, really, seem to know about it and I won’t push and listen to you absolutely but just, I just need some help. A lot of it.”

“It’s true,” Clemont said, nodding his head sagely.

“He’s going to start a stampede on purpose if you don’t agree,” Bonnie pointed out.

Serena turned to Ash and he shook his head, his hands straight by his side as he pushed his chin up. “I’d never do that! …Not on purpose.”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. It’s not like she held any delusions about her aptitude; Serena knew that, according to her mother, she had a lot of room to grow. And she didn’t want to show something flawed to Ash. Something that wasn’t right. Something that has hurt her.

But his mere presence, his misguided trust— there was something about it that rearranged the whole situation, made it different somehow.

She gave a half-hearted shrug. “I can try.”

And Ash grinned at her like she was the sun, and her heart melted a little (because of course).

In Serena’s School of Riding Rhyhorn in a Day, fashion was in utmost order.

There were uniforms that Ash could borrow, but they were all patchy and stale and some were entirely too big. Serena wrinkled her nose as she pulled out one that looked like it had been stuffed in a grave for the last few years. The Kantonian proudly wore some rags he yanked out from some dusty corner and strutted out as if he owned the place.

…She was going to fix that for tomorrow. She pulled out her own from her bag inside one of the dressing stalls, smoothing out the wrinkles. How long has it been?

Too long. Not long enough. Never long enough.

As she changed, she made sure to transfer Fennekin’s Pokéball into the suit’s pocket, not wanting to leave her Pokémon out even though their location was less than ideal. The moment the Starter had peered across the field earlier she scrambled on Serena’s lap, almost tearing the skirt with the ferocity and the claws she deployed. While Serena didn’t want a repeat of that, she also didn’t want to be alone in this endeavour.

A loud yelp echoed from outside the shack. She winced.

Walking outside had revealed that an extra hole had been ripped into Ash’s clothes by a horn definitely meant to deal some damage against him. Looking at the situation longer, she found out that the poor Rhyhorn was trying to dislodge the stubborn Trainer who had somehow flipped over vertically and was obscuring its sight, causing erratic movements and plentiful head shakes.

Otherwise known as one of the other things one shouldn’t do when handling Rhyhorn.

Serena stepped forward, making sure to not be in the way of the stomping feet as she pet the back spines of the Pokémon. “There, there,” she murmured, spacing out each touch and making sure that it could be felt. Soon the Rhyhorn calmed down, giving Ash enough room to distance the back of his suit from the offending appendage and gain some much needed space. At that she moved her hand to its face, listening to its pleased snuffles and smiling in return. “Good job! That was very kind of you.”

“Could’ve made everything else a little less bumpier though,” Ash groaned, rubbing his behind as he stood close to her.

In any normal circumstance, Serena would’ve blushed at such reduced distance between them. Teacher Serena, however, was not so easy to get. Wagging a finger in his face, she said, “Maybe if you don’t throw yourself at the poor dear, then she wouldn’t have a reason to defend herself.”

His eyes bulged at that, his tone nearly spitting. “Defend?”

She nodded as she went to the next pose: crossing her arms. “Rhyhorn are very sensitive. Any wrong move will be taken as a slight. But the right ones,” and her body did soften there, her hands slipping to her sides as the memory washed over her— of her mother’s partner bounding towards her, licking cream of her outstretched hand, snorting proudly as she finished wiping him down— “Well, they take friendships very seriously.”

“Oh, I see.” Ash nodded in understanding as his own expressions followed her own, that defensive instinct mellowing into that warm interest. Looking over at the Rhyhorn, he put a hand on her front horn and smiled softly. “I’m sorry about—”

Before he knew it, he was eating dirt for lunch.

Serena ran over to his side, extending a hand out. “I might’ve forgotten to tell you that they don’t like their front horn being handled by strangers.”

Ash yanked his head out of the ground, rubbing an arm over his face like a wind-wiper before puckering his lips at the remnants on his tongue. “Yeah, maybe you should’ve started with that.” His hand grasped her own, and even though she was in teacher mode, her heart skipped a beat.

Just once. Just a little. But undeniably so.

She turned her head away as he pulled himself up, walking towards the Rhyhorn he was going with as soon as he was standing on two feet. “Okay, so when riding a Rhyhorn, you need to pay attention to your body as well as your mount. Any distractions can lead to you falling at max speeds and being trampled by everyone else around you, and that’s if the initial fall doesn’t do you in.”

“Sounds like riding a car,” Clemont mused from his safe and secure place on the other side of the gate.

Serena could see the comparison… sort of. “If a car was alive and had feelings. Don’t make one like that,” she quickly added, and his eyes narrowed.

With that immediate crisis averted, she directed her attention back to Ash who was ready with his own objections. “And don’t say you can survive that. Think about all the people that don’t want to see that onscreen. Think about the poor Rhyhorn too, who just wanted to have fun and now has to go to therapy because of your thoughtless action.”

“…Yeah, okay.” Ash nodded, looking stern about it, so Serena took it as fact. He then tilted his head towards his mount. “So, how do I ride her?”

She sighed. Talk about literally racing forward. She pointed to the rocky plate on the side. “Put the same-sided foot on there, before launching yourself into the saddle.” It was a good thing that it was already prepared for them while they were dressing— she didn’t want to imagine how grimy it would be being second-hand and already used by others. “Don’t push yourself too hard though,” she called as she watched him tense his muscles preparing for the jump.

—Which ended up flinging him over the Rhyhorn’s back completely. It was all Serena could do to stare at Ash as he shook his head and readjust his cap, which was slipping from its usual position. “Wow,” he said simply.

‘Wow’ was right. Especially as every subsequent attempt got him nowhere in increasingly ridiculous ways. Flopping around as his belly landed on the saddle. Falling on his arm. Sliding down its back. Ending up on one of its spines.

She physically couldn’t watch the last one, instead hearing him groan as he curled up in a fetal position on the ground. The stands were empty, Clemont wisely directing Bonnie to help him with feeding their Pokémon a while ago. The Rhyhorn herself was unbothered, patiently waiting for the next try.

There was nothing stopping Serena from helping Ash up again, maybe getting an ice pack, and talking him out of it. This experience would be enough to drive anyone away from the sport. And Serena knew how much it can hurt, not getting things right and the consequences that followed.

But seeing that determined grimace as he pushed himself up, arms shaking but one eye clear, it was…

Ash was…

She pulled out a piece of cloth she had tucked in one of her pockets, holding it out. “Here. Clean yourself up.”

He took it graciously, even if his wiping motion was a little crazed and frenetic. As soon as he opened both eyes again he said, “I can do better.”

Serena knew that. If Ash had a goal in mind, he wouldn’t give up, not until the end. He kept going for it. Even if it wasn’t his true dream.

Her hand skirted the saddle, her cheek instinctively flinching. The last time she sat down on a Rhyhorn was the same day that Ash fell from Prism Tower. Twice, in fact, and in different ways. But both times got him gaining something from it.

New friends. New Pokémon. A different kind of journey.

She closed her eyes, breathing in and out, before opening them again and pulling off the manoeuvre. In a heartbeat she was sitting atop the Rhyhorn, her tied up hair barely moving from the action (something that took a while to get the hang of). There was a sense of awe in Ash’s demeanour, and that pushed Serena to grip the reins with a loose but secure grip, just like she was taught to.

“See?” she called out from above. “Balance and a small push. You’re just sitting on something a little taller than your usual reach with your legs, that’s all.”

Ash’s eyes lit up, drinking in every detail about her posture and poise. “And how about getting it to move?”

She’s going to do the whole tutorial, isn’t she? Shaking off the sigh in her chest, Serena focused on the fact that time was ticking down— the afternoon sun was already above them, dipping lower. “Start with walking— all you need to do is give a light signal with your foot.” Demonstrating the act, she felt Rhyhorn stand to attention and begin plodding forward.

It was easy to justify her actions when it was just demonstrating small facts— getting on, walking, turning— but Serena started to find herself going beyond that, doing a trot around the field as Ash stood back, giving a short showing of a canter and pointing out generally favourable and disliked spots of the Rhyhorn species.

It was the former demonstration that lulled her into a false sense of security— no, it was remembrance. That’s the only way the justify what had happened next. After all, sitting on Rhyhorn and getting it to turn was just like before, so much like before, that Serena ended up slacking off once more. Before she realised it the Rhyhorn underneath her started to buck, and her mind, terrified, flashed back to how that scenario played out, but before she could do anything about it she found herself flat on her butt.

There was a distinct lack of twittering and hollering around her, thought Serena before thundering footsteps herald the swarm around her.

“Are you okay?! What’s happening?”

She barely had time to be distraught (well, more than she already was) as the Rhyhorn barreled into her. The only reason why it wasn't injurious was because of their bodies fitting together like jigsaw pieces, holding them back from all squishing up against her.

Serena should’ve thought back to her failure. She should’ve thought back to her mother shaking her head and commanding her to try again.

But all she could think of was how they look so happy.

The Rhyhorn were snuffling at her, nudging her gently, some even licking. It felt meticulous, if not a little overbearing and excited, and it reminded her of how close she was to her mother's partner. And he… he did the same thing.

“Was he playing with me?” she found herself wondering aloud as one Rhyhorn tried to rest their head on her shoulder, getting her to instinctively giggle and cup it instead. Looking into its eyes, she could tell that it just wanted to have fun. To be close. To know.

Ash managed to find her as some Rhyhorn backed away, ready to defend her until he saw her smile. He tilted his head and squinted. “You’re still here.”

She fixed him with a glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Quickly pushing herself up to her feet after petting the last stray Rhyhorn, she put a hand on her hip and jutted her chin forward. “Everything up to the falling part is what you’re supposed to do.”

“So don’t fall. Got it.”

“I heard that tone!” But even she couldn’t discard that smile as she watched Ash get on, guiding him through the steps, getting him to practice through the basic manoeuvres necessary for the race tomorrow. Once he was at the cusp of finishing one round without pausing and she found herself exclaiming, "You can do it! Go for broke!"; and while it was embarrassing, it was also enlightening in its own way. That she could care as much. That this could be fun. That both of them could be this invested, with the way Ash's back straightened as he repeated the phrase as he went to start another round but quicker this time. By the time the siblings came back from their short errand she was in the midst of coaching him on his rein grip, reminding him to keep it light while staying alert.

Not that it would stop Ash from getting distracted anyways. He at least remembered to squeeze the sides with his legs to stop Rhyhorn, earning a pleased sound from Serena before immediately waving at them. “Check me out!”

Clemont’s gaze was nothing short of impressed. “You’ve sure gotten the hang of things quickly.”

“Thank my teacher,” Ash replied proudly, getting Serena’s face to remember that, hey, that was her crush complimenting her!

“I-It’s nothing!” she quickly stammered, gripping her side bangs with an iron grip to hold herself together. “It was his perseverance that did the work!”

He shook his head, grin widening. “And your instructions that made it so much more easier.”

“It’s not like you accepted anyone else’s…” Her hands fell away as she considered his words. Serena was sure Amina would’ve helped him out in half the time. And she wasn’t lying when she said this was the basics; just enough to pass though the informal race, not enough for a serious one.

Serena couldn’t be serious if she tried. The fact that the Rhyhorn would rather play was proof of that, right?

“—seen her ride, it was so cool!”

“I wanna see! Hey, hey, can you show us now?”

She pulled herself to the present, where Bonnie was leaning forward in that precarious way and shooting off a charming look at her cursory glance. That meant… that meant she wanted something.

But Serena? Riding a Rhyhorn not for educational purposes? Wouldn’t that mean that she… was riding it for real?

(“You’ve got to stay committed, chouchou. Your thoughts dictate the results.”)

“Of course,” Clemont added, “you don’t have to. It’s fine by us.”

Bonnie pouted at him, steadying her grip. “But what’s wrong with one little ride?” She caught Serena’s eye and said, “It’s fine, right?”

A Rhyhorn snuffled next to her and Serena patted its head, subconsciously looking past her dirtied clothes. What’s stopping her from enjoying this? What’s stopping her from being free?

(The ground, her prison.)

(The expectations, her shackles.)

(So what’s the key? And where’s the door?)

Ash landed next to her, his form still shaky but getting better. The reins were still held in his grip, as if an afterthought, but his gaze was clear.

A question.

(“What’s your dream, by the way?”)

Her lips pursed. Her fingers brushed his own, and not a single speck of colour grazed her cheeks.

Her eyes met Rhyhorn’s.

This one in particular seemed so mild-mannered and intelligent.

“Just this once,” she uttered, feeling the fullness of every word.

The same sentiment, just in a different flavour.

Of course, they couldn’t keep working on it forever. With the sunset peeking over the horizon, the group hauled themselves over to the nearest Pokémon Centre— for Serena, and especially Ash, muscles aching with the strenuous exercise they’ve put themselves through.

It was bliss being inside a building for once. It was bliss washing away the dirt and changing back into regular clothes. And it was bliss eating food to regain all that energy spent throughout the tumultuous day.

…Although Serena still wanted to do something with her own two hands and of her own accord.

Standing up in her seat, she got ready to walk over to the hallway adjacent to their table. Ash stopped midway through his shovelling-all-spaghetti-from-bowl-to-mouth competition to call out, “We’re getting sweets?”

“What makes you think I was making—” The disbelieving looks was unwarranted! She course-corrected, putting a hand on her hip as she washed them all with a disapproving look. “I don’t see why I should give food to those who clearly don’t appreciate me looking out for their wellbeing.”

Ash’s brow furrowed for a moment before Clemont coolly replied, “All I did was give it to someone who was already eating it. What was left in the bucket I gave was minuscule in comparison. And besides, you don’t have much authority on our eating habits considering what you’re about to make.”

She pointed a finger at the inventor. “That’s uncalled for and also untrue.”

“Too much sugar is converted into fats,” he said, voice calm and restrained. If she peered at him hard enough she could almost imagine his eyes glimmering with mirth, which made the innocent words into fighting words. “Which is what is so widely feared in produce containing oil.”

And the best way to deal with a fight is by shutting it down when you’re losing, obviously. “I’m never making anything for you all ever again.”

“Okay then.” Serena shot him a glare. Clemont shrugged, nowhere near an electronic, focus on the conversation and on them, and for a moment she could look back and realise that so much has changed from when they were just two people following the same star. Had she changed, or did everyone else when she was looking the other way?

“I didn’t do anything,” Bonnie said, sidling up with her. Serena’s mind leapt to remind herself of the fence incident, but couldn’t find the heart to argue about it. At least Bonnie did wait when she was asked.

“Fine.” She winked at the younger girl, who whispered a triumphant ‘yes’ in recognition, before locking eyes with the boys. “I guess that means we’re both eating for two!”

“Still worth it,” Ash whispered loudly.

Serena didn’t even look back as she said, “I need five laps from you by the time I’m done. Bonnie, go watch him to make sure he does that.”

“Yes, sir!” the younger girl said, holding a hand up in a salute as Ash groaned into his hands.

It was those words that she left the dining hall, finding her way to the kitchen that she’s gotten used to. All Pokémon Centres had such facilities, part and parcel of looking after Trainers travelling near and far, but it ended up being her safe haven after some time.

Serena didn’t know when it happened. A small gift to her friends turned into a bonding activity with her partner Pokémon turning into this, a routine she indulged in. The kitchen was quiet. It didn’t hold expectations. It wasn’t needed of her.

But she did it anyways.

Fennekin followed her step for step, content to walk the way on her own feet. Pokémon Centres also had the added benefit of being deemed clean enough for the Starter to traverse, which was also something Serena enjoyed. Don’t get her wrong— holding a Fire-Type to yourself was like holding a heater, great on cold days or windy days— but still. It was nice seeing the fox doing something of her own accord, climbing up the counters on her own merit, pulling out ingredients with her own strength.

Even the flour explosion when she pulled out the sack hadn’t scared Fennekin as much as it used to. Now, all the fox did was shake herself off before cleaning her paws off, controlled and calm, before getting back to work.

“I’m proud of you,” Serena found herself saying.

Fennekin paused, cocking her head. She said it out loud, hadn’t she?

Well, maybe it’s because she deserved to hear it. “I mean it. You’ve really grown a lot from when I first met you.” She peeled the apples carefully, cut them precisely. “Usually, you’d get upset when something hasn’t gone your way.”

“Fen…” Her partner's ears drooped at that, and Serena shook her head.

“Non, non, that’s not a bad thing. It’s okay to feel bad sometimes.” How many things haven’t gone her way? She wouldn’t know.

The apple slices went on the pan alongside the sugar. She nodded at the Pokémon as she dutifully pushed the rubbish into a neat little pile. “You’ve been getting stronger with everything. Even if we don’t battle as much, I can tell.”

Fennekin lowered her eyes. “Kin.”

The chilled butter went in, hissing slightly. “Fine. Even if we don’t battle at all.”

That option that’s always hanging around. She didn’t know why she didn’t take it. It would be good for Fennekin, it would be good for her as a Pokémon Trainer— but Serena’s found herself coming up with an excuse for every form of battling she encountered. Whenever a stray Trainer was walking up on the path they were on she made herself hang back, eye contact away from the scene. Whenever Ash talked about practice, she suddenly remembered that there was something else she had to do. It’s always the same. It’s starting to be a part of her. It was always a part of her, ever since she happened upon the group at a Gym with the bite to match the bark.

The only thing that held her back from eschewing completely on this strange unspoken rule was the fact that she's also found Fennekin doing the same. Shying away from boisterous shows of strength, staying by her side constantly, snout upturned at any sort of play the other Pokémon would initiate. It was a sign of her character. It was a sign of her tastes. It was a sign to someone who was always looking for a way out, even if her Starter would be clear about it if she was supposed to get a different conclusion than the one she’s made.

But it’s fine. They can both be stubborn in this regard.

With the pie shoved in the oven, Serena slumped down on the ground opposite it, apron fluttering around her.

…But was she being too stubborn right now?

It’s funny how distance changed some habits. Serena was still firmly against participating in anything regarding Rhyhorn racing, and yet, when a friend asked for some tips, she went all out. She couldn’t even recall some of the things she said earlier. It was like her mother had talked though her, regaling them with the knowledge she wished she could instil into her daughter.

And yet, Serena still held the whole event, the whole day, at a distance. She wanted to help, but didn’t want to enjoy their presence next to something tainted by experience. She had standards, she told herself. They didn’t know how much it hurt her.

Fennekin hopped into her lap, in the valley between her high knees and upper body, and Serena rested a hand on her. Her reasoning on choosing her Starter was flimsy at best, a collection of vibes but no experience in commitment before. It was her first Pokémon. This was the first opportunity that was hers, away from Vaniville, away from her mother, even away from Ash himself.

This choice, it was purely because of what little information she could piece and a few minutes of exposure. Something so infinitesimally small and selfish, unknowing of the impact.

Did Fennekin have a choice? Serena hoped so. She asked, once, and the Pokémon sent her such a stern look that she had to relent. The closest feeling to being scolded like a child. But the question itself wouldn’t disappear so easily.

What is a choice? Was Serena shirking from Rhyhorn racing because she didn’t like the aspects that made it, or was it teenage rebellion finally given voice? Could she ever have a pure relationship with it? With her mother? With anything she’s ever done before? Or was it all written in stone?

The timer dinged, and Serena shelved those thoughts and slipped on the oven mitts.

Pulling out the tarte tatin, the memory hit her suddenly— of the great and powerful Grace pulling out a tin that smoked and bubbled with a failed attempt of the same dish. Of how Serena, so young and small, still took a slice (after adding copious amounts of icing sugar to mask the taste) and shared it with her mother. Of how the two of them sat, afternoon lighting up the dust motes between them until all there was around them was light.

There was a time, once, where there was no friction between them.

Serena looked down at the pie, perfected after so many tries.

She took a sample of it.

It tasted sweet.

Despite everything, Serena found herself waking up early the next morning.

It probably was jitters. Nervousness. For all the work that she had done with Ash, she still didn’t hold a lot of confidence in his abilities, and while it was a small-scale race the audience could be big. Could be watching. Could be judging. That early-morning fact didn’t stop Fennekin from following her, though, nor did it stop the two of them from exiting the shared room they had and wandering around.

The morning was quiet. It’s one thing to listen to snoring and muffled sounds from beds around you, and another to be in the corridor. Serena attempted to hold Fennekin, but the fox dodged the hands and firmly trotted forward. Perhaps that small encouragement form last night was giving the Pokémon newfound courage.

Serena didn’t want to bake now. She didn’t want to sew, or make a video, or buy products from the mart. She’s already groomed Fennekin, and she didn’t need to dress up for today. Today was only for the viewing of her results. Watching what she has made through the knowledge she had unwillingly gained, for better or worse.

Today was the day for her to be her mother and give the reins to someone else.

She could go back and wake Ash up, tell him to get prepared, go through the rounds one more time or ten. Make sure that he’s got the movements down pat. No mistakes. Steady hands and sure movements. She could watch her friend do better at the act of Rhyhorn racing purely because he embraced it with his heart and didn’t shy away from it. She could call home right now and say everything she wanted to say.

And that is something she didn’t know.

And that was something that hurt.

And that was something different, strange, weird and heavy. All the wrong things. All the worst options.

Serena took in the brisk morning air, feeling the breeze brush by. Fennekin shook her head and angled her head to the side, sputtering against the small gale. There were the stands, growing closer with every step, and beyond that, the track.

But there was one location her feet ended up taking her to.

Fennekin climbed her way up the small stairs of the building next to the Rhyhorn enclosure, wiping off her paws as Serena stood by. Soon, the rest of the world was going to wake up. Soon, the race was going to happen.

Now, she was just face to face with what she could’ve been.

She sat next to her partner, looking up at the wispy clouds atop of them. “You know, I used to not really think about other Pokémon when I was younger.”

There was a questioning cry beside her. She patted down her skirt, then rested her hands on her knees. “I didn’t get to see a lot of Pokémon in my hometown. The summer camp— the one I first met Ash in— that was one of the only times I got to see the world for myself. My mother used to always say that Rhyhorn were going to be my partner someday, but knowing there were so many other Pokémon I could’ve been friends with changed my mind.”

“As soon as I got home I tried to check out where there was a Pokémon Laboratory in Kalos. I wanted to be a Trainer too. I wanted to meet Ash someday and show him all the friends I got, and maybe he’ll show me his, and we’ll have a fun time. I don’t know. It was a promise I made to myself.” Her hands clenched. “But I kept holding myself back. I could’ve went, ages ago, but I didn’t want to disappoint my mother. I didn’t want to leave her. After having her at home for so long I… I couldn’t do it.”

She surreptitiously wiped at her eyes. “So I kept doing the same thing. Kept practicing. Kept failing. Kept getting into fights. I couldn’t make up my mind. I wanted everyone to be happy, but it’s not that easy. It still isn’t.”

Fennekin whined lowly as she hopped onto her lap, snuggling close to her. Serena’s mouth tilted upwards as she pet her Pokémon, hand smoothing over the soft fur. This was real. This moment was hers, and this moment is now, and this moment was warm. “I’m still afraid of talking to her, even now. Would she be angry about what I’ve done? Sad? Let down? I don’t know. It’s easier to not know.” She scratched between Fennekin’s ears, making her purr. “I’ve been practicing Rhyhorn racing for years and I’m still not good enough. What hope do I have about anything else?”

The Fox Pokémon turned her head to face her and yip sharply. “Kin, kin! Fenne-kin!”

“Hmm. Interesting position.” Serena bopped her nose, causing her to paw at it instinctively. “Have you thought about being wrong?”

“Fen.” Looks like Fennekin really was sticking to that point. Serena sighed as she shrugged, conceding in her own way.

The two of them moved to one side once the riders started to come by, watching them come out all dressed and ready for the race. Soon enough, Ash should be barrelling on through to get his clothes, and Serena had the newly fixed suit ready for that occasion. After all, no pupil of hers was going out with patchy threadwork!

It was still early enough that not everyone had arrived just yet, so she didn’t worry too much. Sitting around with her Pokémon observing the sights was okay. Today will be okay. And maybe she’ll derive some amusement out of seeing others have fun with something that she once thought was impossible to enjoy.

Of course, nothing was that easy.

“That’s the first time you’ve looked peaceful.”

Serena turned her head to face Amina, who had walked out of the stables. She looked stern herself. Before she could say that though, the older woman added, “And not nearly vengeful. Does the emptiness help soothe your young soul?”

“It’s none of your business," she stiffly replied, eyes now magnetised towards something else.

“That’s fair.” She unlatched the opening at the barn adjacent to the paddock, letting the Rhyhorn move out at their own leisure. There was a momentary glance as one walked close by enough for Serena to pat it, the pleased rumble an afterthought to the teenager’s mind at that reaction.

Serena couldn’t stand it. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

Playing dumb? Seriously? There’s only one explanation! “Like—Like you know!”

“Know what?” The stablekeeper stressed the last word, looking exasperated, but Serena wasn’t fooled. She knew. Everyone who was involved Rhyhorn racing knew.

(Except the newbies. Except Ash. But they’ll know someday, or maybe they can already tell, because it’s not just this. It’s never just this.)

Fennekin was giving her a concerned look as she blustered through the words that wouldn’t— couldn’t— really couldn’t making it past her lips. The thing she didn’t want to admit. The thing that she was supposed to be. The thing that she is, even though she didn’t want to be.

“Like I’m supposed to be my mother!”

The words ripped into the early morning air, scalding and painful. Amina kept that blank stare as Serena kept huffing, her breath suddenly too tight.

And then, “And your mother is?”

Serena's gaze snapped upwards, her jaw hanging at the woman. What? Amina shrugged, looked bored and annoyed. “Geez, suddenly everyone expects me to know everything. That’s what I get for striking up a conversation.”

“So you don’t know who Grace is? Record-winning Rhyhorn racer? Won interregional competitions? Represented Kalos in them as well?” Didn’t even give up when she had a child, that’s how much of a winner she was. Only gave up when she had nothing more to give, and even then, she just thrust all that weight onto said child. Winning so much that it passes through the bloodline.

Amina’s blue eyes were lidded as she drawled, "It may ring a bell, but I don’t see the point you’re making. A fun fact, for you: not everyone are their mothers. You certainly don’t want to be, if I’m guessing correctly. And nobody would care if that’s the case, because who in their right mind judges someone on their lineage? Your actions are your own, kid.” And just like that, she walked away, leaving the Rhyhorn to graze and meander.

And Serena was still there. Not compared to her mother. Rejected by it, in fact.

There was a small lone yip. She turned to Fennekin, who now looked worried. Right. Serena almost had a meltdown in front of her Pokémon.

“Sorry about that,” she said, sitting back down. They were lucky there was no one else around to witness all of that. And yet for some strange reason, though, Serena felt like she was out to prove something.

She shook her head. This wasn’t her time, it was Ash’s. She was just here to watch.

Even as time kept passing. Even as the stands started to fill. Serena didn’t mind sitting out here— there was a clear enough view to the screen, and she needed time to wind down a little before rejoining the others. Besides, Officer Jenny was at work separating the tracks with brightly-coloured cones, cordoning off the area. She really didn’t want to get in the middle of that.

If she squinted, she could see twin blond heads sticking together close to the front. It would make sense if a red cap was close by, confused about directions to get to the stables as a competitor, but there was no sign of him. No sign of the sixth rider.

The race was about to start soon. The other competitors were taking out their mounts, fitting them with saddles, putting on their helmets. Fennekin nudged Serena. She looked at the Starter.

“Absolutely not,” she declared after seeing those eyes. She… she couldn’t!

But Fennekin was nothing if not firm. Stubborn was the word, but Serena couldn’t take the idea out of her head now that it was acknowledged. Truth be told, she was thinking about it too.

The race was about to start soon. She could wait, just like she’s always done. She could watch from the sidelines, like her mother. That’s easy to do.

She glanced at the lone Rhyhorn in the pen. The mild-mannered one. The one that played with her.

She’s not her mother.

(But her mother was better at this than she was. And Serena’s clumsy second-hand knowledge was the only thing that could’ve sustained her friend in today’s race, not even mentioning the fact that she hasn’t practiced in ages herself. And Serena doesn’t ride Rhyhorn, not anymore.)

But she had the clothes.

And the hair tie was still in her pocket.

And if others can change around her, then so can she.

Just this once.

Ash rubbed his eyes blearily on his bed, his mouth strangely fuzzy.

It’s… morning, right. It’s morning. All the other beds are empty, and the sun was well-up from behind the blinds. That meant he’s late, which was funny because he hasn’t been late in a long while. Not like this, anyways.

Pikachu mewled as he was rocked from his spot, also late in waking up and yet reluctant in getting out. That made Ash snicker a little to himself as he dressed up, a small part of his mind trying to tell him something. Well, not exactly telling him. It’s more of a warning, of a lack of something being recognised.

He shrugged it off. First up was food, then thinking. He couldn’t do anything on an empty stomach anyways.

Getting food was easy in the Pokémon Centre. It was a bit unnerving that there weren't many people around, though. His head swiveled around as he swallowed the brioche, Pikachu nibbling on his own slice, as he tried to locate his friends. A Wigglytuff quickly passed by and Ash’s gaze landed on the Nurse Joy, who was giving space for her helper to enter through the door.

In no time at all he was in front of the desk, ready to ask the question before his eyes were drawn to the screen above it.

Talking about a Rhyhorn race.

His eyes widened.

Ah. So that’s what he forgot.

Bonnie was very much enjoying her awesome perch, thank you very much. Even if that meant she was next to her brother.

That’s not meant to sound so harsh. Uh, she loved him, she really did, it’s just very annoying when all you could hear was a pen clicking on and off next to you. She sent another annoyed glare back to no avail, because Clemont was too focused on the notebook in front of him.

One with dwindling pages inside it. Bonnie rolled her eyes at that. She never understood throwing away things. Keeping them meant you remembered. But that’s her brother for you. “Can you stop that?” she tried instead.

Clemont’s eyes snapped up at her, the pen hovering above the new page. “Oh. Stop what?”

“The—” She mimed the action, and he had the good sense to look embarrassed before setting it down. She sighed at that. “Thank you.”

“No need to sound so relieved,” he replied back, that furrowed brow returning to the empty page.

Since the race wasn’t going to start now, she decided to hop off the stool to peer at his overflowing bag. “What are you making, anyways?”

She tried to hide the… feelings about it, but smarty-pants Clemont always had to find a way to know about everything. His lips pinched together before he opened them and said, “It’s not what you think.”

Bonnie shook her head. Clemont looked away. It was a stalemate, and if there was something she learnt, it was to never back down. Eventually, he buckled. “I need to build something.”

“You don’t have to build anything.” It’s true! It’s like how he always kept telling her how she didn’t need to have every Pokémon friend caught. The fact that his own advice flew over his head was typical, really.

“You don’t understand, but I don’t expect you to.” Just like his rockheadedness. He moved a hand over the side of his head as he closed his eyes. “Look, it doesn’t matter whether I should or should not. I want to do it. It’s something I like. And I don’t appreciate you always shooting me down on it.”

But Bonnie can be rockheaded too. “Even when everything goes bad?”

His eyes opened into slits. “That’s what I’m trying to fix!”

“Well, it’s not working!”

“What?”

“I said what I said.” She harrumphed for good measure, and Clemont exhaled through his nose as he looked back at the book.

In a low voice, he said, “I really am trying. I don’t— I don’t plan to fail.”

“…I still think the names are stupid,” Bonnie decided to reply back. Clemont gave her a flat look. She said what she said!

After a while, he turned away, tapping the forgotten pen against the page. The sound wasn’t annoying, at least not as much as before. “What do you like?” he suddenly asked.

Bonnie blinked at that. What did she like? Pokémon, obviously. Her friends. Travelling. Yummy food. Cool things. Lots of things.

Clemont nodded as he penned them down, his sister leaning over to see it. The handwriting was too messy for her to follow, but it was her words on that page. “What are you doing?” she found herself asking again.

He didn’t stop writing, somehow. “Ideas.”

“That’s all?”

“Ideas are a big concept, you know. They give way for many different results, all with their own due processes depending on environment, mindset and intended purpose plus audience. They’re variables. They change. I’m just recording my own thoughts on the matter.” What a roundabout way to answer a question. Still, Bonnie couldn’t be too mad. He’s trying, after all.

But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her like that just yet, so she wandered off to the stepping stool once more. The racers were finally lining up, which meant that Ash should be arriving soon. Her eyes scanned around for his number, and after a while she found it— lagging behind a little, but still there.

This was going to be so cool! She watched him practice yesterday, but that was terrible, so hopefully he could do a lot better today. “The race is about to start!”

“Let me know when the countdown starts.”

She pouted as the announcements blared over them. He could be so boring sometimes. He needed to get a hobby that didn’t require being stuck in a building some day. Despite herself, though, she couldn’t help but think of where Serena was. She would’ve pulled him out of it. At the very least she could’ve kept Bonnie company.

“Where’s Serena?” she asked her brother as he groaned at the next page, which was already full of some other junk. He shrugged.

Hmm. Not engaging? Not on her watch. Prolonged eye contact was enough to get him to stand up next to her instead, albeit with a sigh. “What am I supposed to look at again?”

“The race,” she droned dramatically. He held an amused smirk at that and— Wait, hey!

She huffed at him. “Maybe you should sit down after all.”

“But then I’ll miss— Huh.” He stopped mid-sentence, eyes narrowed as he peered downwards at the racers. She tried to follow his gaze. What, Number 6? That’s just Ash.

She was about to say as much, but Clemont shook his head and said, “I didn’t know Serena was taking over for Ash.”

“She’s what?!”

The starting pistol fired and the race was on.

Wearing the suit she intended Ash to wear was a bit weird, but Serena made it count as she slipped her feet to tap the side, the lightning bolt mark flashing under the sun before the dust obscured it. The speed of this Rhyhorn was good, but that meant that its weight could be lighter than she was expecting. Tilting would have to be held back and calculated to work as intended.

The other racers around her were keeping a decent pace. That was worrying, considering her earlier assumption that they were all as new to it as Ash was. A foolish thought, perhaps, but not one she could afford to hang her mind upon. This was a short distance race after all. Every move mattered.

Her mother would tell her to keep in the middle, conserving speed until the last stretch. Staying behind meant leaving your chance behind. Staying ahead meant burning out. But wasn’t that her life though? She didn’t know what move to stick to, whether to blaze forth her own path or hold it all in until it mattered. How could she know? What mattered anyways?

Serena’s practiced her whole life for this, minus the years she didn’t know how to walk and the current journey she was taking, but she hasn’t ever trained with so many other Rhyhorn. She grunted as one passed by her, forcing her to pull back the rein to prevent her own mount from getting pushed aside. Rhyhorn growled as she did so, trying to fight for control.

No, no, no. She couldn’t afford to lose control now. She tried to still her beating heart, recalling the last time Rhyhorn had done so. That was in jest, a playful motion. Rhyhorn couldn’t be playing now, right?

…But what if that was how they interpreted the race. This one was fairly young, and falling behind could hurt its pride. By staying safe, Serena was risking their place.

She didn’t want to get hurt, but that signalled distrust in Rhyhorn itself. For this to work, they both had to work together. Trust in one another. Put in their all.

Letting go of her breath, she allowed Rhyhorn to gallop forward, stealing back precious meters. They’ll go for broke together. Soon enough they were pushing back the one that overtook them, using the terrain to gain past another.

It was working! They were working. They were doing this.

Shadows loomed from above as they all entered the forest portion. She kept her head low and her gaze focused ahead, making sure that neither the road nor the competition disappeared from her sight. She couldn’t let Ash down, at least. She was riding for him.

Even though that’s not his dream. Even though it’s not hers either. But she was the only one who could do it, and she couldn’t let the race go on with one less racer, and she wanted to prove something even though nobody knew, even though nobody cared, even though she wasn’t anybody with the visor on and hair tucked away and loose fitting tracksuit as her clothes. Just another competitor. Another one vying for recognition.

Nobody would know.

“She’s really doing it,” Ash murmured as he leaned on the fence, watching the jumbotron intently.

He didn’t mean to forget, really. He already got an earful from both Bonnie and Clemont about it, and if Pikachu wasn’t in the same boat (by also oversleeping) he was sure to have gotten more pushback from him, too. Last night must’ve tuckered him out more than he expected. All those bruises really did take time out of him in their own way.

If he could he would enter now, despite the late-coming, despite his awkward skill. But coming to see who was in his place…

He was rooting for her. All the way. And by the way the siblings were standing beside him, cheering her own, he wasn’t alone.

Serena will win it. For—

Everyone was giving it their all, and Serena couldn’t help but push herself forward just to keep up.

It was a tight race, she’ll give it that. At times she thought that they would fall behind, but Rhyhorn would call out to her and she would adjust her grip, keeping it firm in her hands as she tapped the Pokémon into a canter. Speed was paramount. This little one was fast, but she didn’t want to overdo it, especially since their last turn was a bad one that costed them a higher position.

The road was getting a bit smoother at this portion, which was bad for a myriad of reasons. Serena gritted her teeth and Rhyhorn nearly slipped, balancing herself out like her mother said. She didn’t even remember where she was told that, only that her body adjusted to make up for that moment in time. Number Three was trying to overpass her, but she wasn’t going to lose her spot to him.

Not today.

Two and Four were ahead. The latter was pushing their Rhyhorn to the brink, which wasn’t very good of him, while the other was just… Serena presumed the same, but she wasn’t going to let that inform her decision. When riding Rhyhorn, one had to dedicate thoughts to their own position and their mount.

Said mount was pushing dutifully ahead, thankfully recovered from the slip. This little one was really putting her all into it, and Serena couldn’t begrudge her if it, couldn’t do anything less but move ahead. Look ahead. Think about being ahead.

For Ash. For Rhyhorn. For the ideal her mother wanted.

She’ll be her mother’s daughter if it meant winning this.

She has to win this.

She’ll win it.

There was a turn coming. She thought about slowing down and making it, but that would cost their place, and she didn’t want to do that.

But it was safest.

(But what about the race?)

But it was her choice, her action, her culpability.

There were only minutes left. She had to do something.

“Serena has to slow down,” Clemont said.

Ash looked at him. “Why? She’s only third place.”

The inventor pointed to the end of the track in front of them, where the curve was. “Rhyhorn are heavy and it takes a while for them to turn. If she went full speed she could careen off-course.”

“That won’t happen!” Bonnie cried confidently. “This is Serena we’re talking about.”

Glasses flash at the same time as the visors onscreen. “Exactly. She knows what’s at stake.”

Everyone else was running forward, since afterwards was the last stretch.

There were only seconds left.

Her mind was screaming ‘slow down, we won’t make it, we’ve failed before and we’ll fail again’.

Her heart was calling out ‘we can do it, Rhyhorn can do it, this can work if only we believe’.

But what did Serena do?

(In the end, the action was hers alone.)

What did she say?

(No matter what, when push comes to shove, she’ll do what she thought was right. Because this was her moment.)

Her hands wrapped themselves around the rein, getting ready for what’s coming next.

Clemont, truth be told, was internally freaking out.

It’s easy to tell when his voice picked up pitch, when he lent out advice nobody could act upon, when he’s white-knuckling the fence with all that he’s got. He didn’t really know much about Rhyhorn racing— sure, it was a sport venerated in Kalos, but he didn’t do sport. Didn’t do much at all, to be honest.

He did know enough to parse out Serena’s incredible skill with it, though.

“She did it! I told you I told you!”

Especially when she managed that turn without slowing down.

Ash was looking prouder than punch when he beheld the manoeuvre, Serena snatching first place as the track straightened out. Only a kilometer left until the finish line.

It was so close.

Serena was so close.

The cameras zoomed in on the finish line, getting ready to record who had passed it.

Serena was closing in, Rhyhorn’s hooves eating up the distance, the visor trained on what’s ahead.

She could do it.

They could do it.

It was so, so close—

The shutters snapped as the Rhyhorn passed through, a photo finish.

Bonnie leaned over, her eyes taking in every detail with a giddy squee. She couldn’t wait to go and boast about how her bestest friend (that wasn’t a Pokémon) actually— got second place?

“That’s so unfair!” she yelped, crossing her arms as she leaned away. Those people had to be wrong! What kind of lunatic would look at Serena and think that she deserves anything other than first?

Her brother sighed beside her, shaking his head. “Are you saying the cameras are lying?”

She stopped to think about it. “No?” Her pointer finger found the first place loser getting the prize, a pout settling on her face as she glared down at them. “But that guy definitely cheated.”

“He didn’t cheat—”

“Serena’s amazing.” Both of the siblings stopped arguing to face Ash, whose eyes were fixed on the girl petting the Rhyhorn beside the finish line.

Clemont cleared his throat, a small quirk pulling his mouth up. “Yeah, she really was.”

Ash finally looked at them, pushing himself away from the fence as his hands started waving around. “Like, you saw that move, right? She just kept going around that curve, and that smooth road didn’t slow her down one bit, and she was really in sync with Rhyhorn and just, wow…” His voice trailed off but that giddy smile didn’t fade away.

That smile gave Bonnie an idea. “We should go out and meet her!”

“How?” Clemont asked, nodding towards the people around the racers helping them to dress down the Rhyhorn and talking to them. She rolled her eyes and enacted her plan: easily jumping off from the stepping stool to climb over the fence, on the other side with a few movements.

“See!” she called out to them, twirling on the grass before turning forward, bumping into a large blue body.

A little removed from the scene of Bonnie trying to escape the clutches of the Manectric, the two boys shook their heads in tandem. Ash leaned back against the fence, definitely not making eye contact with Officer Jenny who was nearby. “You let her get caught,” he said instead.

“I did no such thing.” The Kantonian levelled him with a deadpan look. Clemont sighed. “It’s not like I could’ve stopped her.”

Ash shrugged. “That’s true.”

A crackle of electricity burst at that moment and everyone, even the racers themselves, faced the smoky appearances of the officer and the young girl beside the Discharge Pokémon.

That’s their cue.

The internal view of the Pokémon Centre was washed ablaze with shades of red and yellow as Serena stood in front of the videophone.

Her hand shook a bit as she held the receiver, but then she remembered that feeling of pushing forward, of going for broke, and so she tapped out the number she’s memorised by heart.

It only took a few rings.

With one click, that familiar face blossomed into view. Eyes widened before softening, and that voice— her voice— wormed through the speaker. “Bonsoir, chouchou. I was starting to think you’ve forgotten me.”

“Maman! I would never…” Serena felt her voice peter out, many thoughts colliding within herself and stilling her tongue as a result.

That moment of hesitation brought about the colliding mass of Ash leaning forward, his grin huger than the sun as he pushed her out of frame. “Hey there, Serena’s mother! I’m Ash, and this is Pikachu!” The electric mouse chirped from his position, tilted into view, before the Kantonian adjusted his stance. “I don’t know if you know it yet, but your daughter is so good at Rhyhorn racing! Crazy good! She even taught me and—”

“Move over, Ash! We didn’t even get to introduce ourselves yet!” Bonnie shoved him aside and jumped forward, precariously leaning against the machine as she peered at the screen. “Bonsoir! I’m Bonnie and this is Dedenne and this is my brother, Clemont—” She pulled Clemont into the picture, who awkwardly waved at the camera before he got pushed aside— “Yeah he doesn’t really like videophones but he’s pretty cool too.”

“It’s not the videophone!” Clemont said in the background. “They’re actually very intricate in terms of design and history—”

“But I wasn’t done with my story!” Dedenne squeaked in alarm as Ash picked up Bonnie and moved her to the side, getting back in front of the screen once more. As the two of them bickered and tried to gain ground, Serena found herself looking at her mother.

And on her face was… mirth?

She cleared her throat, clapping her hands to grab their attention, but then her mother interrupted. “What’s this about Rhyhorn racing?”

Serena groaned despite herself. Count on her mother to react to that rather than the chaos in front of them. She made sure to recollect herself before stepping to the forefront, steeling herself for what may happen next.

This was her journey, her story. She was here, and her mother was here too, but it was a different sort of here. A different sort of connection, too.

“Today there was a Rhyhorn race over at Odyssey Village.” She made sure to wave a hand out as she casually added, “I even entered.”

Her mother gasped at that, leaning forward. “My Serena in a Rhyhorn race? And in Odyssey Village? I remember that place. Very good training grounds. I’m sure you’ve done wonderful in it.”

“Not an official one. But I did try my best.”

“Don’t forget the training part!” Ash added cheekily, his hat mysteriously gone (until one looked down to see it upon Pikachu’s head).

Her mother’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “I won’t.” Serena found herself flustered at that, quickly shooing him away before facing the full force of it with no one else to take the brunt.

Feeling a little too exposed, she quickly moved on. “I’m sure you can see it, but I’m travelling with others now! And I’ve even got my own Pokémon!” Pulling down Fennekin, who was sitting above the videophone, Serena waited with baited breath for the rejection.

Her mother hummed. “That sounds very nice. I’m happy for you.”

She blinked. “Maman…”

“We’re going to wait outside,” Clemont said quietly before footsteps echoed away, leaving Serena with her mother. With the one who raised her. Who molded her. Who wanted the best from her.

Leaving her with Grace, the winner.

There was nowhere else she could hide, nowhere else she could draw confidence from. Her arms moved closer to her chest and Fennekin yipped, gaining her attention. She was never alone when she had her partner, though. And she always had Fennekin with her.

Grace saw that and she leaned her head against her hand. “You’ve certainly changed, haven’t you?”

“Changed?” Serena echoed. She thought about the things she has done, those that could’ve been her goals, those that she’s done with her friends, and everything in between. She laughed a little. “I guess so.”

“You know I meant it when I said I’m happy for you, right?”

She shuffled from foot to foot, the question bubbling in her chest in retaliation of that declaration. “Would you still love me if I wasn’t first place?”

“I’d love you even when you are third, even when you are last, even if you couldn’t go at all.” Serena’s gaze met her mother’s, those same eyes mirrored over the same screen, and she found a ghost of a smile there. A proud one? “As long as it’s you who’s doing it.”

“...Thank you.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” Serena shook her head at that and her mother sighed, and even that was an echo of a time much more simpler than it was now. Somehow she found herself missing it.

“You do know that I’m not always going to do it?” she asked instead.

Grace didn’t look the least bit surprised about it. “Of course, chouchou. It’s your journey, no matter what anyone else says.” Her smile turned wry as she added, “Even me.”

Somehow, it was different when it was her saying it. “Okay.” She racked her brain for something to say. For some reason, she ended up with, “I’ll call you next week.”

“That’s a good plan.” The two of them looked at each other before laughing. Small talk still proved to be impossible between the two of them, it seemed.

Serena exchanged a few more tidbits before signing off, her chest feeling infinitely lighter than it was before.

She could do it. Serena— a largely indecisive girl who's been practicing something she wasn’t even great at— still managed to snag a place on the podium. It wasn’t first. But it was hers. And she called her mother too!

And that meant…

Looking outside, where the others were chatting to each other, a smile bloomed onto her face. Serena let Fennekin walk beside her, the two of them heading off to the next day and the next dream, their dream, the beat of their steps following the beat of her heart.

Serena could do it. She always could. And someday, she’ll find something that fits.

Until then, she had her friends and the open road ahead of them.

Notes:

I've always thought that the Rhyhorn episode was very interesting from an everything point-of-view. The fact that, in canon, it follows directly after Serena witnessed Ash retry the first Gym (after her encouraging him in her own way), the way it was before the Gym Takeback and everyone was relatively new to each other still, and the way she's able to demonstrate her expertise is very interesting to witness. I personally enjoy the episode because of the facets it shows us with Serena willing to change her mindset on Rhyhorn, Ash engaging with others in learning something new (I feel like we rarely get him doing activities other than battling-adjacent stuff. and saving others. that too), Clemont experiencing Emotions™ and all of them just going a little out of their comfort zone together. But the great thing about AUs mean that I get to explore the same scenario in a different context (or a different point of time) and see how that changes everything! And surprisingly I've also enjoyed writing this iteration as well :P

I thought it would be fun to have it at this particular point (a point I kept pushing back.... I'm sorry women); at first because I was a little disgruntled that the very few cards Serena had held was already exposed without anything to go with it (story of XY tbh...), with me later on realising how interesting it would be to examine her reaction to the sport after being with the group for so long and under the circumstances they've endured. It says a lot when facing the discipline your whole childhood revolved around is more harder than fighting back against poachers or sneaking into somewhat-fortified towers. It's also an interesting glimpse to how Serena views the world - she's told her mother that the opposite of what she picks (in terms of fashion) is what she, herself, will go for, but how far can that extend? Is she against what others tell her to do? If she picked something of her own regard, would it be easier? Does support stifle her, remind her of Grace? Would she thrive off space? Can something be ruined forever, or will she grow out of it in time?

To me a lot of Serena's early attempts are her fitting herself into narrow boxes of how something should feel and look like; to mess up, to not feel enthusiastic about it, to feel too much about it, all those imbalances are signs that it can't be right. Because a dream has to be easy. It has to work. It has to be made for you, or you're made for it. It's not like she doesn't consider effort or time, but it's more like the fear of wasting it on something just to realise that it will never work out. She's done the same for Rhyhorn racing and look where that ended up. To Serena, this phantasmal dream will retroactively make everything better, a cure-all, and so she'll keep chasing something she's never really felt. And that is echoed in Fennekin, who also chases perfection and thus holds a narrow mindset against anything that might disrupt her worldview. In that way, they're perfect for each other. But! Things change. You change. And so there can never be a perfect fit for everything.

That's why I really enjoy the idea of Ash trying out Rhyhorn racing of his own accord. It's not his main dream but he wants to have fun, and pulls Serena along for the ride. It takes her out of the perfection mindset and into the moment, into helping someone try something new rather than the other way around, and gives her a bit more power to break out of that doomed cycle she's putting herself in. And seeing Fennekin becoming just a bit 🤏 more used to the messy things in life is proof of that. And it's good to learn that, because contorting yourself to fit means that you lose who you are. And there are people who love you, will love you, for who you are. There are things that only you can do. One shouldn't have to hurt themselves to fit some arbitrary 'right' idea.
(Plus the idea of her taking Ash's place... of stepping up, of taking that same mindset and her mother's skill and making it hers. Of getting second place ~~and how that may mean something to both of them down the line~~. Of how she's not perfect but she's getting there and the journey has sweetened the destination and how it was never about getting it right the first time, but about getting there. About growing. About being better than she was before.)

Also! That call with Grace was so much more better in dub than sub, change my mind (But seriously can we talk about how we see this woman like 5 times? And how they don't really do much with their strained relationship? And how what little we do see on the journey is making compromises for each other? I think about this too much).

Wow, I'm finally getting back on the long notes section lol. Thank you all so much for reading, you're all so amazing, and I hope you all have a wonderful awesome time forever and ever and ever <33 :DD (+ edit later!!!)

Series this work belongs to:

Actions

↑ Top

Kudos

Reptilia0fReptiles, Batfam0102, and DukeSR8 as well as 2 guests left kudos on this work!

Comments

Sorry, this work doesn't allow non-Archive users to comment. You can however still leave Kudos!

Archive of Our Own

Actions

Work Header