She didn’t usually train with Myst.

  Sure, they trained at the same time, but they usually ended up in separate corners, each absorbed in their own routines and focused on their own teams. It wasn’t something they’d ever discussed; it just naturally fell into place that way. Most of the time, they were working toward different goals, and even when they weren’t, watching someone else train was simply too distracting.

  After all, training Pokémon was all about observation. You couldn’t just hand out drills and hope for the best. You had to watch, correct, and push. More than that, you needed to be able to accurately identify where your team was struggling, where they excelled, and how to sharpen both sides.

  That was one of the steps Cynthia saw other trainers skip, honestly.

  They had plans, good ones even. Most trainers could figure out a strategy and identify the key points they wanted to focus on. But after that? They’d spend hours crafting a solid exercise, explain it to their Pokémon... and then walk away, leaving them to figure it out on their own.

  That simply wasn’t enough.

  You couldn’t just tell your Pokémon to “work on multitasking”, tell them to try and activate two moves at the same time, and then assume they’d do it perfectly. You had to watch, to guide, to catch the subtle moments where they started slipping into bad habits. Or worse, when they came up with clever workarounds that looked effective but completely missed the point of the exercise.

  Though, even with all of that, maybe she could handle Myst training his team if she was simply focusing on one of her members. But when she was juggling three at the same time?

  Well, she couldn’t have thirty percent of her focus taken away by Myst doing… Myst things.

  Still, not to say that they never trained together.

  “Shouldn’t you try your Concept Method?” Cynthia asked, glancing toward Riolu, who was currently showing off his hands to Rei.

  The Buneary leaned in, inspecting the strange, shining claws of metal Riolu had formed. Her nose twitched slightly as she tilted her head, looking puzzled.

  “I would,” Myst said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But Rei just… doesn’t really have a concept of Steel. She’s lived her whole life in Eterna, and there’s basically no Steel-types there. No machines, no metal tools, nothing like that. She met Bronzong once, that’s it. So, when I asked her to picture it…”

  He trailed off and gave a helpless shrug.

  “I figured seeing how Steel-type energy actually behaved might help. Let her observe it for herself.”

  Cynthia nodded slowly, glancing back at Rei.

  That tracked, in a weird sort of way.

  The whole Concept Method was, honestly, disgustingly effective at what it did. Sure, it didn’t help with learning the move itself, but if you were stuck at the point where your Pokémon couldn’t even produce the right type of energy?

  It was a complete game-changer.

  Even now, Cynthia wasn’t sure Myst really understood just how important a discovery like this could be. One of the reasons trainers specialized in certain types was because it was so much easier to teach moves that way. Pokémon of the same type could recognize and shape their energy more easily. And more than that, a Pokémon that already knew how to generate a specific type of energy could help another—passing it along like a skill.

  In simple terms, if your Finneon was trying to learn Ice Beam but couldn’t generate Ice-type energy, having a Gastrodon that could made the process way faster.

  Cynthia wasn’t going to lie though, even she had underestimated the difficulty.

  Queenie had learned Bite without a problem, and Riolu had taken to Ice Punch with what felt like natural ease. It made her think having a team made up of different types wouldn’t be a problem.

  Then she tried to teach Queenie Fire Fang.

  She’d wanted the coverage for the Eterna City Gym. More than that, having a super-effective move against Grass and Ice-types just seemed like smart planning. Grass-types were notoriously hard to put down without one decisive hit, and Ice-types?

  Well, that one explained itself.

  Either way, she’d figured it would take a few weeks of solid training, that she’d have it down before even reaching Eterna.

  In the end?

  If it weren’t for Myst’s Concept Method, she’d probably still be stuck on just getting Queenie to generate Fire-type energy in the first place. Really, knowing it had some kind of limit was almost a relief.

  Myst tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing as he thought.

  “Actually, just for reference, how do trainers normally have their Pokémon sense other types of energy?” he asked slowly.

  Cynthia paused.

  “You think you’ll need it?” she asked, lowering her voice slightly.

  “I mean, not sure yet,” Myst said, scratching his cheek, “But I’m curious, you know? I came up with this method knowing almost nothing about type-energy. The fact that it works at all is kind of a miracle. The fact that it’s not perfect? Honestly, that just makes sense.”

  Cynthia nodded.

  “Well, like I mentioned earlier, there are a bunch of different methods. The easiest, of course, is when a Pokémon learns a move naturally. Queenie, for example, picked up Bite just from growing stronger. Dark-type energy came to her on its own.”

  She hesitated.

  “Other than that? Having a Pokémon of the same type help teach the skill usually works. But that’s... not really an option here, so…”

  Cynthia trailed off slightly under Myst’s inquisitive gaze.

  The simple truth was, there wasn’t one clear answer. No universally agreed-upon best method. Every trainer had their own way. Sure, there were a bunch of go-to techniques, but sometimes they just… didn’t work.

  Cynthia had learned that the hard way.

  Even now, she wasn’t entirely sure the Concept Method wouldn’t end up the same. She didn’t exactly have a large sample size. There was Myst’s experience with it and how it had worked with Queenie, but that was it. And honestly?

  Ignoring if he had taught Navi with it at all, she wasn’t sure if Rei even counted.

  After all, when teaching Rei, Myst had focused on the Elemental Punches, which was almost certainly Rei’s Egg Moves. That meant it was hard to say how much was the Concept Method and how much was just instinct. According to Professor Elm’s research, how easy it was for a Pokémon to learn an Egg Move fell on a spectrum. Some were practically inborn, showing up from birth, while others were so deeply buried in potential that they were only barely easier to learn than a move from a Pokemon’s extended movepool.

  So where Rei landed with her Elemental Punches?

  Well, it didn’t really matter. The point was the same.

  For all she knew, the Concept Method might just be a technique that happened to work particularly well for Queenie and Rei.

  She just didn’t feel like that was the case.

  It wasn’t anything she could explain, but instinct told her that if they just spent more time refining the method, they were going to end up with something truly extraordinary. Even now, Cynthia could almost picture it, the books that would be written about them. The interviews. The lectures. How famous they’d be.

  Discovering a new training method at fifteen. That would certainly shut up the people who—

  “Cynthia? Anybody home?”

  A finger tapped lightly against her forehead and she instinctively jerked back, blinking in surprise.

  Myst smiled at her, blue eyes glinting with quiet amusement.

  “You trailed off.”

  She opened her mouth, about to respond, but…

  Boom!

  The sound of two forces clashing cut her off.

  She stared at him for a second longer than necessary, then took a slow breath and turned her head toward where Rei and Riolu had, apparently, started sparring.

  “When did they—” she began, only for Myst to cut her off.

  “After the second time I called your name and you didn’t answer,” he said, a slight grin on his face. “Rei figured if she couldn’t get a grasp on Steel-type energy, she might as well get some practical experience. Sparring seemed like a decent compromise.”

  Cynthia let her gaze follow the flow of battle.

  Riolu ducked under an outstretched leg, then brought up an arm just in time to catch Rei’s second kick with his Metal Claw. Rei bounced off, twisting midair and using the contact as a springboard to gain distance.

  Unlike what she expected though, Riolu didn’t immediately follow with his usual Quick Attack. Instead, he launched forward with Metal Claw still glowing, closing the distance with raw speed alone. Rei had just enough time to turn her ears a faint orange, another Double Kick, before he was on her.

  Cynthia narrowed her eyes.

  She could barely follow the movement. Arms and ears blurred together as they clashed half a dozen times in a blink.

  Still, some moves slipped through.

  A claw slashed into Rei’s side.

  A kick crashed into Riolu’s arm.

  Both Pokémon let out grunts, but didn’t stop.

  Cynthia watched carefully, her eyes scanning the fine details.

  “Did they decide to only use Double Kick and Metal Claw?” she asked slowly.

  Myst nodded.

  “I suggested it. If Rei wants to figure out what Steel-type energy feels like, then clashing directly against it seemed like the most straightforward approach.”

  Well, that made sense, Cynthia thought, watching the way Riolu and Rei remained locked in a tight clash, and more importantly, how Rei’s Double Kick was slowly getting forced back.

  Rei was probably the most flexible Pokémon Cynthia had ever seen when it came to move application. Even now, Riolu couldn’t come close to how she used Quick Attack, let alone her ability to chain Double Kick through both her ears and feet at once.

  Rei was simply a genius at manipulating type energy, and Myst’s innovative methods had only sharpened that gift.

  Still…

  Riolu let out a sharp cry as he knocked Rei’s foot aside, diving cleanly through the opening in her guard and landing a direct Metal Claw to her chest.

  Rei flew back but twisted midair, landing lightly on her feet.

  Cynthia tilted her head slightly.

  Still, she was just plain weaker than Riolu, and about as fast, at best.

  “So,” Myst said casually, “I guess there’s no great way to get a Pokémon to figure out how to transform their type energy?”

  Cynthia let her gaze linger on the field, on the sight of Riolu slowly advancing as Rei tried to shake him off, darting and weaving, always just a step behind.

  Then she forced them away, looking back to Myst.

  “I honestly couldn’t get any of the usual methods to work,” she said. “So recommending them feels… weird.” She paused, glanced once more at the battle, then quickly looked away again.

  “I wasn’t going to ask, but—”

  Myst tilted his head.

  Cynthia hesitated. The words caught in her throat.

  He blinked at her, curious. “You weren’t going to ask about…?”

  For a moment, Cynthia just stared at him.

  Then the words slipped out in a rush.

  “I was just going to ask why you want Rei to learn a Steel-type move anyway? I mean—” she stuttered slightly, “like, getting her to transform her energy is one thing, but can Buneary even learn any Steel-type moves? If not, you’re going to have a hell of a time teaching her anything, you know.”

  Myst tilted her head and gave her a sheepish smile.

  Cynthia paused at the look, feeling herself calm down, then narrowed her eyes.

  His knowledge of moves was usually flawless, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t misjudge something. Teaching a move from a Pokémon’s natural movepool was one thing, it was practically baked into their DNA. Even teaching something that they didn’t naturally learn, what Myst sometimes called the extended movepool, was doable.

  But trying to teach a Pokémon a move from scratch?

  A move that the species had never really learned before?

  Cynthia could confidently say even she wasn’t arrogant enough to pretend she could do it.

  People spent years trying to teach their Pokémon moves they weren’t suited for, and Myst didn’t exactly have years to spend.

  “I mean, yeah,” Myst said finally, “but I honestly don’t know if I’m right.”

  Cynthia didn’t un-narrow her eyes.

  “What do you mean, you don’t know if you’re right?”

  Myst held up a hand.

  “I mean, it’s part of my knowledge, but…” He waved vaguely toward Rei, just in time for Riolu to slam her into the dirt. “I just don’t see it.”

  Cynthia stared at him for just little bit longer, then sighed.

  “So what? What moves a Pokémon can learn isn’t about what seems right. It’s about what their ancestors knew. You should know that, you’re the one who told me about Egg Moves.”

  Myst opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Like he was trying to articulate a thought.

  Not that what came out was particularly articulate.

  “What.”

  Cynthia blinked.

  “Elm’s research? You know, the stuff you made me read to confirm you were probably right?”

  Myst just stared back at her blankly.

  She sighed, deeply.

  “Myst,” she pointed a finger towards him, “you were the one who told me about Egg Moves, and so I had to check out if you were right. Elm is the foremost expert, his paper explains how they work and how they shape a Pokémon’s movepool,” she explained firmly.

  When Myst’s eyes still didn’t spark with recognition, she resisted the urge to throw her hands in the air. Instead, because she was used to this by now, she exhaled through her nose.

  “You know how moves work, right?”

  Myst hesitated, then said cautiously, “They’re efficient ways of using type-energy?”

  Cynthia ignored the part of her brain screaming he’s guessing and nodded.

  “That’s right. But not just efficient, the most efficient. Most of the moves Pokémon know are the end result of generations of refinement. Weaker variants, imprecise or costly ones, got replaced by stronger, cleaner versions. That’s why almost every Fire-type learns Ember. It’s the best way to throw a small burst of fire with minimal effort.”

  She stopped herself before going on a tangent and forced herself back to the point.

  “Anyway, what Elm discovered is that, over time, moves actually get imprinted into a Pokémon’s type-energy. That’s why, once a Pokémon learns a move, they never forget it. Just like our muscles remember certain movements, their type-energy remembers how the move functions.”

  She leaned forward slightly.

  “And more importantly, if a Pokémon has children, their offspring can inherit that same memory. Over generations, hundreds of them, the most common moves end up solidifying into a species’ natural movepool. Other moves that are still common but not universal? Those become part of what you call their extended movepool.”

  She paused, glancing up at Myst.

  He was watching her seriously, listening closely.

  Some part of her relaxed ever so slightly at that. Even though she knew Myst liked hearing about stuff like this, when she just went off on tangents, the years of looking up to see glazed over eyes still caused her to feel a little bit uneasy.

  “That… that makes a lot of sense, actually,” he said. “I guess that’s why Rei can learn Iron Tail. Because a lot of species compatible with Buneary already learned it, and it happened enough that the move passed into their line…”

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  He trailed off.

  Cynthia stared at him, eyes going wide.

  For a moment, neither of them said anything.

  Then her gaze jerked to the side, just in time to see Riolu pin Rei to the ground, using his strength to hold her face-down in the dirt.

  But Cynthia didn’t care about that.

  Her eyes were locked on Rei’s tail.

  Her round, soft, utterly useless ball of fluff that couldn’t smash anything.

  “What.”

  …

  Myst, apparently having decided he couldn’t dedicate the entire training session to Rei, had split off again.

  Which was just as well.

  After all, if he hadn’t asked, she probably would have. It was clear Rei wasn’t about to suddenly develop a solid concept for Steel-types, and more importantly, Riolu and Queenie had requested to focus on strengthening their basics. So Myst heading off to prepare for his upcoming Gym fight was, honestly, for the best.

  The silver lining with that though, was that with both Queenie and Riolu opting to tire themselves out through routine strength training, Cynthia was free to devote her full attention to her last team member.

  Roselia leaned casually against a tree, his tattered red scarf barely clinging to his neck.

  Cynthia let her eyes trail over it.

  Even when she’d first met him, it had already shown signs of wear. It was a durable piece of work, almost certainly woven from a Pokémon’s silk, but it still had limits. Without proper maintenance, and already damaged as it was, it was only a matter of time before it fell apart entirely.

  Still, she forced her gaze away from it and up to Roselia’s half-closed eyes.

  “Since you asked for it,” she said, “I think you know what I want to talk about, right?”

  Roselia gave a simple nod.

  “Roselia.”

  Cynthia allowed herself a smile of satisfaction. If nothing else, he was perceptive. More than that, he had the rare ability to recognize what he lacked, and the even rarer one to ask for help.

  “Right,” she said, her tone sharpening slightly. “Against Kael, we couldn’t actually do any meaningful damage. The moves we had just… didn’t hit hard enough. And with the environment the way it was, we couldn’t use your usual tricks. Stun Spore and Sleep Powder would’ve hit all of us, and without the smokescreen they create, you didn’t have time to set up properly.”

  She took a breath, eyes narrowing with focus.

  “So, we need a way to deal instant, overwhelming damage. Something that can punch through their natural defences, force them on the back foot, and buy you just enough time to set up.”

  And, luckily, Roselia already had something like that, Cynthia thought as she finished.

  Her mind drifted to the cave where they’d found Navi.

  Even now, Cynthia could still remember the way the entire cave had trembled with energy when Roselia fired those leaves, so charged with Grass-type energy they looked like a single, blinding green laser. The blast had brought Queenie to her knees in one hit, the first real damage her oldest partner had taken in what felt like forever.

  After Roselia had joined, it was the first thing she had asked him about when they started to train. How had he pulled that off?

  In the end it was a combination of clever set up, and the moss that had grown in the cave. It was naturally saturated with natural Grass-type energy and after carefully using Growth, Roselia had somehow injected even more energy into it. It was the reason it began to glow from within; it was overcharged with power. Then when they had invaded, and he thought he needed it, Roselia had drained it all in an instant—

  Just to fire off Leaf Storm.

  When Cynthia had seen it back then, she hadn’t even connected the attack to Leaf Storm. Not because it was too powerful, but because it was too weak. Roselia’s blast had been overwhelming, bringing Queenie to her knees in a single blow.

  But in the end… it had only brought her to her knees.

  That was the problem.

  Leaf Storm wasn’t just another Grass-type move, it was widely considered the most powerful Grass-type attack. Stronger than Fire Blast, able to overwhelm Thunder, the kind of move she had only seen used in conference finals.

  And if Queenie had taken one of those?

  Well, Cynthia was pretty sure Queenie would survive.

  Probably.

  So no, she wasn’t underestimating Roselia. She just hadn’t been able to imagine him being able to learn Leaf Storm at his current strength. Even with all that setup, the fact that he’d managed to fire it at all was honestly a miracle.

  So, she’d shelved it. Figured it could be something they returned to later, once he was stronger. First, they’d refine his current fighting style, lean into his strengths, and save the high-level stuff for when he could handle it without a months’ worth of careful set-up.

  But after Kael?

  She had a whole new appreciation for raw, overwhelming power.

  Honestly… maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything.

  But then again, maybe it would have.

  The Bibarel Roselia had faced was strong, sure, but not stronger than Queenie. And more importantly, it was weak to Grass-type attacks. If Roselia had been able to use Leaf Storm without exhausting himself completely, if he’d had that move in his back pocket, that fight might’ve ended in one hit.

  And that might have changed everything.

  With Roselia freed up, he could’ve supported Queenie. Helped take down—

  Cynthia cut herself off. That was a rabbit hole she didn’t need to go down.

  She refocused.

  The real issue was simple: even though Roselia had grown stronger, Leaf Storm still felt like a stretch. As a move, it just demanded too much type-energy. Even the strongest Pokémon struggled with it, most being unable to recover to their normal type-energy density after using it. The recoil wasn’t just physical exhaustion; it literally made the Pokémon using it weaker.

  “Leaf Storm would work for sure, so I get why you suggested it, but my conclusion hasn’t changed. Right now, as you are, you aren’t strong enough to use Leaf Storm on your own.” she said simply.

  Roselia tensed, the petals in his bouquet-like hands flexing like they were fingers.

  He didn’t say anything back though, probably because he realized the truth. Right now, without the setup, he simply couldn’t use it.

  “Roselia.” he almost barked.

  So, what then?

  “We have two options,” Cynthia said, holding up a hand. “One—”

  She dropped the first finger.

  “We focus only on that. Train nothing but your ability to use Leaf Storm, focusing on expanding your Aura and your ability to store type energy, until reserves are high enough to fire it off. I think, at the absolute most, you’ll be able to manage it in a couple of months.”

  She pause.

  “The downside? We’ll probably have to neglect your other moves. It means doing the opposite of what we agreed on when we started training. It means forgoing control. We’d be setting aside your current fighting style, everything we’ve been refining, just to brute-force one technique.”

  Cynthia glanced down at him.

  Roselia stood still, but his expression, just the faint downturn of his mouth, told her everything.

  Even if he wanted a trump card, that wasn’t how he wanted it. He didn’t want to become a mindless Leaf Storm cannon. He wanted a move that could flip the script. Something to use when the odds were against him. Not a tool to start or end a battle, but something sharp, decisive, and unexpected.

  He wanted an ace up his sleeve.

  Cynthia smiled slightly.

  “Second option: if you’re not strong enough to use Leaf Storm…”

  She raised her second finger.

  “…then we make the move weaker.”

  Roselia blinked.

  “…Roselia.” His voice was flat.

  What.

  She smiled at his reaction.

  “Okay, hear me out. You know how Custom Moves work, right? You take two moves from two different types and combine them.”

  He nodded slowly.

  “What a lot of people don’t realize,” she continued, “is that most of the time, that makes the move weaker. That’s why so many Custom Moves end up as support tools, why most of them are made by combining utility moves. When you try to make an offensive Custom Move, you might gain better type coverage, sure, but you usually lose raw power.”

  She tapped a finger against her chin.

  “But in this case? I think you were onto something with that cave blast. If we combine Growth and Leaf Storm into a Custom Move, yeah, we’ll lose some power… but we might be able to mitigate its secondary effect, make it less draining to use.”

  Her eyes brightened as she stared down at Roselia.

  “Think about it, Leaf Storm hits like a truck, but it takes a ridiculous amount of type-energy,” she stumbled through her words, almost in a rush to get them out as fast as possible, “But if the attack is structured around Growth? A move that builds type-energy instead of burning it? Then we might be able to balance things out. Not perfectly at first, but enough to keep it usable.”

  Cynthia grinned.

  “End result? A move about as strong as Fire Blast. A slightly worse version probably, since you will still probably be slightly weaker after using it, but still extremely powerful.”

  Roselia stared at her.

  Then, after a beat, he nodded once, firmly.

  The instant he agreed Cynthia spun on her heels. She rushed towards her backpack, opened it, and pulled out her notebook. Her legs moving independently of her hands she walked back, smacked the notebook onto a nearby fallen tree and flipped to the newest page.

  Then she looked up and paused when Roselia just… stared at her.

  “Roselia?” He pointed at the open notebook, the one already filled with a full training plan for the Custom Move.

  Why ask?

  Cynthia paused for a moment, looked up and met his gaze.

  “Because,” she said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “even if I think one way is better it has to be your choice.”

  …

  Cynthia raised a hand and returned Riolu, having already done the same with Queenie and Roselia moments earlier. Then she slipped the Poké Ball back into her belt and glanced down at the three empty bags of blended supplements crumpled in her palm.

  Just a few minutes ago, each had held a carefully mixed dose, custom-tailored blends for each of her Pokémon. She always gave them a little before and after training, mixed into water. It promoted growth, replenished nutrients, and kept their energy stable until dinner. Made their training just that little bit more effective.

  It was routine. Familiar. Something she didn’t think about anymore.

  But today?

  She stared at the bags a moment longer before folding them closed. Last night, she’d been too exhausted to dwell on it. After waking up, she’d honestly forgotten.

  But then she saw Riolu spar with Rei.

  It hadn’t been close.

  Sure, most of that came down to the rules: one move each. Few things could’ve crippled Rei’s unpredictable style more. Even so, Riolu had clearly been faster, stronger. Which meant that Myst, for all his fantastical knowledge, might actually be starting to fall be—

  She shut the thought down before it could finish. It wasn’t helpful.

  In the end, the problem was that she had watched him train.

  Not often, but enough to see he wasn’t doing anything she would call outright wrong.

  Sure, maybe he could be wasting a little less time fine-tuning moves his team would eventually outgrow. And, yeah, maybe his endless tinkering with type energy wasn’t the most efficient use of their hours.

  But it wasn’t like that was all he did.

  She’d seen the practical side too, his more standard drills. Just like she sometimes paired Riolu and Roselia, having one defend with Leaf Defense while the other broke through, Myst would set up his own scenarios. Rei dodging or slicing through a rain of Confusion-lifted stones, Navi teleporting erratically while Rei tried to tag her with Quick Attack.

  It wasn’t textbook, but it had intent. Purpose.

  His training wasn’t about brute strength. It was about adaptability. About precision. About having a tool for every situation. Rei and Navi might’ve fought in opposite ways, but both carried that same design.

  It might not be what she would’ve done, but it wasn’t wrong.

  After all, training wasn’t a one-size-fits-all kind of thing. Even the best books made that clear, everything depended on species, typing, temperament. The individual Pokémon and the trainers’ ideals.

  She had her way.

  He had his.

  Cynthia let out a breath and tucked the bags into her pocket. Then she let her eyes drift up to the hilltop, where Myst had wandered off to train.

  But while training had no single right answer, nutrition did.

  She’d seen him give Rei and Navi supplements. Once or twice. If she hadn’t, she would’ve spoken up by now. But she’d assumed he was doing the same thing she was. Figuring out the right dosages. Tailoring mixes to their nee…

  No.

  She wasn’t going to lie to herself.

  It wasn’t that she’d assumed anything. It was that she hadn’t thought about it at all. She knew, intellectually, that most trainers didn’t pay enough attention to nutrition. That far too many struggled with even the basics. But Myst?

  He wasn’t supposed to—

  She clenched her fist.

  Maybe she was wrong.

  Maybe he was doing it right. Maybe she’d walk up there, ask, and feel like an idiot when he rattled off a dozen optimal routines and the exact nutrient breakdown of every blend.

  Maybe, maybe, maybe.

  Cynthia inhaled through her nose, then exhaled, slow and steady, before turning toward the hill.

  It took less than a minute to reach the top, and when she crested the top, she spotted him below. He was sitting cross-legged beside Rei and Navi, all three of them breathing in perfect rhythm. Another of his little rituals, one he had no clear reason for doing.

  Typical, honestly.

  She slid down the slope, boots muffled by the grass, and stopped a few paces behind him. For a moment, she simply watched. His shoulders rose and fell in sync with his team’s, calm, steady, almost meditative.

  Then she reached out.

  Her hand hovered. Just for a second. Maybe two.

  She had to talk to him, but even so, forcing her arm down to touch his shoulder felt like trying to move a mountain.

  Still, when she finally reached, Myst’s eyes snapped open instantly.

  “Huh?”

  Cynthia didn’t answer. She tilted her head, gesturing away from Rei and Navi.

  He looked between her and his Pokémon, confusion clear on his face. Then he gave her a pointed look—What is going on?

  She didn’t explain. Just pointed again.

  After a beat, he sighed, stood up, brushed off his hands, and followed without a word.

  They walked in silence, until they neared a cave set into the hillside. Cynthia paused at the sight of it and then looked back. Rei and Navi were still visible, but distant, probably far enough that anything said wouldn’t carry. Probably. Hopefully.

  She didn’t hesitate. She reached out, grabbed Myst’s arm, and guided him inside.

  Then turned to face him.

  Opened her mouth.

  Stopped.

  Tried again.

  Still, nothing came out.

  Myst raised an eyebrow, silent.

  Cynthia took a slow breath, trying to steady the static buzzing at the edge of her thoughts.

  Pokémon training was, in a lot of ways, deeply personal. Asking someone if they were doing it right, feeding their team properly, training the right way… It was the kind of question that could end friendships. Had ended friendships. After all, on some level, training wasn’t just about technical knowledge. It wasn’t just about the performance. It was about care. About knowing your team and doing your best by them.

  And Myst cared.

  She knew he did. Rei and Navi weren’t just teammates to him. They were family.

  Even so, Myst was, well… Myst.

  “Cynthia?” he asked, voice low. “You wanted to talk?”

  She blinked and forced a smile.

  “You—” The word came out brittle. Her gaze dropped to the cave floor.

  She’d psyched herself up for this. Told herself it would be easy. Just a question. Just a conversation. But now that the words were sitting on her tongue, poised and ready to fall?

  Excuses sprang up like weeds.

  Wait until you're alone.

  Watch a little longer, maybe it'll become obvious.

  Ask in a roundabout way—

  Myst tilted his head, softly.

  The excuses died.

  She knew him. Knew he wouldn’t take it the wrong way. If it had been about his Pokémon not being good enough, maybe he’d have gotten angry. If she’d said Rei wasn’t trying hard enough, or Navi was too timid.

  But if it was about him doing something wrong?

  He’d blink. Then look back at his team. Probably start thinking aloud, trying to piece it together. And when he noticed she looked upset, he’d smile, gently, painfully, and tell her it was fine. That he was the problem. The one who couldn’t remember. The one who didn’t know enough.

  Like that was the issue.

  “Cynthia? You okay?”

  She looked up and forced herself to meet his eyes, crystal blue and quietly searching.

  It was almost ironic.

  Myst was the one with amnesia.

  So why did it always feel like she was the one who kept forgetting?

  He opened his mouth, concern flickering across his face—

  “What do you know about taking care of your Pokémon?” she blurted out.

  Then winced.

  That wasn’t how she had practiced it in her head. The wording was wrong. Too sharp. Too accusing.

  “I mean, I’m not saying you don’t know how,” she rushed. “I’ve seen you train, you’re great! I was just wondering how much you actually, like… know. About the care side. I mean, if you don’t want to answer, that’s fine! I just—uh—”

  She scrambled for an excuse.

  “I mean, Riolu’s been having some issues! And I was wondering if you had any tips and—”

  Myst cut in.

  “You’re worried Rei and Navi aren’t growing fast enough?”

  Cynthia froze.

  Her mouth snapped shut with an audible clink of teeth.

  Myst glanced back toward his team, brows furrowing.

  “I guess… I have been too focused on their moves? I mean, you did say it once, sometimes you just need raw power. So that means more basic training, right? Still, I thought—”

  She clenched her fist, and Myst stopped mid-sentence, catching the motion from the corner of his eye.

  “Cynthia, seriously,” he said softly, “you don’t have to look like you stepped on my grave. I’m not mad. I’ve told you before, right? I’m mostly just winging it. You know way more than I do when it comes to training Pokémon. I’m just coasting on the fact that Rei’s a genius and Navi seems to be one—”

  Cynthia felt her worry crack, then flare into anger.

  “No.”

  Myst blinked.

  “No?”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “You don’t get to do this, Myst. You don’t get to act like this is all your fault. You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

  He tilted his head, a small, infuriating smile tugging at the edge of his mouth.

  “But… you were thinking Rei and Navi are growing a little slow, right?”

  Cynthia glared back.

  “Sure,” she snapped, “but you still don’t get to assume it’s your fault. That’s not what I was going to say. It’s not about your training. It’s not that you’re focusing on the wrong things. It’s that—” she drew a sharp breath, “—you might not be feeding them optimally.”

  Myst blinked, startled. His gaze shot to his Pokémon, then to his backpack. Before she could continue, his expression tightened.

  “I should be figuring out their doses or something, shouldn’t I?” he muttered. “I’ve just been giving them the recommended amount for small Pokémon, but that’s not exact enough, right?” he lightly biting his lip, “Fuck, I should’ve—”

  “Myst,” Cynthia cut in sharply, “how were you supposed to know?”

  That stopped him.

  His eyes flicked back to hers.

  “I could have asked, should have asked. Sure, I read a beginner book on how to be a trainer, but that isn’t exactly enough is it?" he said, shrugging.

  “Myst, how would you know?" she asked again, but softly.

  Myst waved her question away. “Seriously, I could’ve figured it out by paying more attention. Just… watching what you were doing. Hell, I should’ve just asked if there was something more I needed to do for their diets, so you could’ve…”

  He trailed off, catching the look on her face.

  Cynthia gave a small, gentle smile.

  “It’s not your responsibility to ask,” she said. “I knew. I knew it wasn’t something easy to figure out. It’d be one thing if this was something you still remembered, but it obviously isn’t…” She hesitated. “Honestly, while I should have brought it up earlier, I never really know what you do or don’t remember. Maybe we should just… sit down and go through it. Try to figure out what you know and what you don’t.”

  Myst let out a quiet sigh. “And how exactly would that work? You just said it yourself, you don’t know what I remember. So what, we sit down, come up with a list of everything I should know, and hope something sticks? Sounds like a giant waste of time.” He crossed his arms. “I’m fine. I may not be some elite trainer, but it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong, is it? Sure, I didn’t know everything about supplements, but I’m betting most trainers think too hard about it either.”

  He narrowed his eyes slightly.

  “Actually, go ahead. Try it. Come up with three things I don’t know. If you can, I’ll agree to your little interrogation session. If you can’t, we drop it.”

  Cynthia licked her lips, opened her mouth.

  “Uh, massaging—”

  She stopped herself. That didn’t count. She’d already told him about that.

  They stared at each other in silence and Cynthia’s mind spun, trying to find a gap, some piece of knowledge he was clearly missing. He knew about Custom Moves, about Aura, about how type energy worked. There had to be something he didn’t know, but right now, she couldn’t seem to figure out what it was.

  Myst gave her a helpless smile.

  “See? It’s not that easy, is it? Look, I get it. You realized you forgot to tell me something and now you feel guilty. But I’m not helpless. I am managing fine at this pace, figuring things out on my own. I might not be on your level, but I’m holding my own. I am doing fine… right?”

  He was doing fine. Obviously, he was.

  But she didn’t want him to do fine.

  Cynthia opened her mouth, but before the words came, something shifted in Myst’s expression, a flicker behind his eyes. Not anger. Something quieter. A warning.

  Don’t go too far.

  She held his gaze, trying to decide how far she could go. Then, slowly, she looked away.

  Myst’s voice was soft. “Honestly… let’s just move on.”

  A beat passed.

  “Please,” he said. “Just tell me what I should be doing.”

  Cynthia stared at the ground. There were a dozen other things she wanted to say.

  She had a feeling none of them would matter right now.

  She took a slow breath, then turned back to the reason she’d come.

  “What supplements are you using?” she asked. “Right now, just the ones made for types, right? Normal, Psychic, and Fairy? Or just two of them?”

  Myst let out a relived smile.

  “All three. I’ve been mixing the ones for Navi half and half.”

  Cynthia nodded, slowly.

  “Okay. First thing—you’ll want to start picking up Fighting-type supplements for Rei. I know it might sound weird, using supplements outside a Pokémon’s typing, but honestly? Even sorting them by type is kind of misleading. Or, not wrong exactly, but limited. A lot of Pokémon can benefit from blends outside their ‘type.’ For a while, I actually mixed in Psychic-type supplements for both Riolu and Roselia.”

  “Ok, get it, anything for Navi?” he asked.

  “Since she is a Ralts,” Cynthia said, “you should start leaning the mix more toward her Psychic side. Fairy is her secondary typing, so most of what she needs, nutritionally, comes from the Psychic side of things.” She paused. “Well, at least try starting with a one-third Fairy, two-thirds Psychic mix. Then, if it seems like it’s not right, you can adjust the ratio. I’m not super familiar with Ralts, but from what I’ve read, the line can develop pretty strong Fairy-type tendencies as it evolves.”

  Myst smiled, “And for their dosage?”

  “Honestly? The package guidelines are total garbage, especially if you’re mixing,” Cynthia said. “So, you’ll want to reduce the total amount for Navi. Maybe by ten percent or so, just to avoid overloading her. For Rei? Increase it by a lot. Considering how active she is, and the way she trains, you might as well dou—”

  Cynthia should have noticed.

  If she hadn’t been so relieved, so focused on explaining things, she even would have.

  But she didn’t.

  So she missed the subtle way Myst’s fingers curled into his palm… and the quiet pressure of his nails starting to dig into skin.

  …

  By the time they decided to make their way back to the Poké Center, the sky had already begun to darken, the last light of the day bleeding into soft purples and smoky blues.

  Cynthia glanced at Myst, who walked a few steps ahead, his gaze fixed somewhere far off, lost in thought. Rei trailed behind him like a grumpy teenager, arms crossed, ears twitching with every step. Meanwhile, Navi drifted between them like a drunk, her gaze flicking back and forth, first to Myst, then to Rei, over and over, like she was trying to measure the distance and finding it too wide.

  Cynthia’s eyes flicked to Queenie, walking calmly at her side.

  The Gabite snorted, a soft, gravelly sound.

  “Gabite.”

  Cynthia nodded, a tired smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

  “Yeah,” she murmured. “I know.”

  Queenie, as always, had a way of cutting straight through things. Walking away from training feeling like you hadn’t accomplished anything, that was familiar. That heaviness in your chest, like you’d missed some invisible mark… It didn’t matter it wasn’t your fault, that wasn’t part of the equation.

  Cynthia knew that, had felt it more times than she could count.

  It wasn’t anything to worry about. Not really.

  Still, as she watched Navi stumble after her teammates, trying and failing to catch up, something in Cynthia’s chest pulled tight. Some part of her wanted to scoop the little Psychic-type up into her arms, say something comforting.

  But…

  Cynthia glanced toward Myst and had to stop herself from glaring a hole through his back. Instead, she exhaled, took a couple of brisk steps forward, and poked him in the arm.

  He blinked, glancing down at her.

  “What?”

  She didn’t answer, just tilted her head slightly back, gesturing with a glance. Myst followed her eyes and saw Navi lagging behind, her small horn flickering faintly with psychic light. He paused for only a moment before walking back toward her.

  Navi looked up at him, wide-eyed.

  He didn’t say anything at first, just smiled and gently picked her up.

  Navi squeaked, flailing in something halfway between protest and embarrassment. Her horn buzzed with a flicker of purple as she kicked once, then let herself be carried.

  Myst laughed.

  “You don’t want to go in your Poké Ball,” he said, grinning, “but if you’re this tired, you gotta let someone know. You weigh like nothing, Navi.”

  She huffed and turned her face into his shoulder, hiding her eyes.

  Cynthia couldn’t help it, her smile bloomed before she even realized. Her heart warmed at the sight. Maybe he wasn’t perfect, but nobody could ever say Myst didn’t care about his Pokémon.

  He looked over his shoulder at her, and for a moment his grin softened into something quieter, gentler.

  Then, just as quickly, the grin was back.

  “Ah, there it is,” he called, voice teasing. “Your patented, definitely-not-creepy smile.”

  Cynthia’s face froze.

  Then she narrowed her eyes at him, a glare already forming again.

  She didn’t get a chance to deliver it, he was already halfway down the road in a half-jog, Navi laughing in his arms as they disappeared ahead.