As she walked down the stairs to start another day, Cynthia let her gaze drift across the Pokémon Center’s lobby. Mornings were usually quiet, most trainers had a tendency to sleep in. Give teenagers unlimited freedom, and they’d take the extra hours every time.

  But today?

  The lobby buzzed with activity. Trainers lounged in chairs, chatted in clusters, and picked half-heartedly at breakfast trays. Of course, it wasn’t like everyone in Oreburgh had suddenly decided to become early risers.

  No.

  It was just that, for the first time since they’d started traveling together, they had actually chosen to sleep in. With Myst’s Gym battle scheduled for later, she’d suggested it. Figured a little extra rest couldn’t hurt, not when he seemed intent on driving himself and his team to the ground anyway.

  Cynthia flicked a glance behind her.

  Well. You couldn’t be right all the time.

  Myst stood at the top of the stairs, staring into the middle distance like he’d momentarily forgotten why he was there. Then, as if gravity had just occurred to him, he sighed. Wordlessly, he shuffled to the side, grabbed the railing, and began his descent.

  Descent, though, might have been a generous word.

  Every step took several seconds. It wasn’t really walking, more like falling with grace and using the railing as a lifeline. It honestly had to be a miracle that he even made it halfway before stopping.

  As Myst stopped, resting his head on the wall, Cynthia watched with fascination as he rubbed at one eye with the heel of his hand. Then, apparently dissatisfied with his rubbing, he frowned, yawned and slumped forward like someone had unplugged him.

  A strand of hair drifted across his face.

  He blew it away.

  It fell right back.

  He glared at it. Truly, deeply, as if daring it to keep trying him.

  Cynthia’s expression twitched. She had seen Myst tired before, but she had to admit. She had never seen him look like this. His face was stuck in a pout so committed that she couldn’t help it, a low giggle escaped before she could stop herself.

  Myst paused. Turned. Gave her the kind of slow, unamused look that screamed: not now, please.

  She shut her mouth, but from the look on his face, her expression was just a touch too innocent to be convincing. So, as he continued giving her the stink eye, she shrugged lightly and turned her attention away.

  She took another step down the stairs and let her eyes flick over to the front desk—

  And stopped too.

  From this angle, the group that had been earlier hidden behind the nearby pillar came into full view. They were, by far, the most eye-catching people in the room. Compared to the usual trainer crowd in mismatched jackets and worn hoodies, these trainers had aesthetic. Cowboy hats. Karate gis. A girl with honest-to-god elf ears, glittering away like it was nothing. They looked like they’d been pulled from five different stage shows and accidentally assembled in the same building.

  They were practically a walking Contest advertisement.

  Cynthia let her eyes follow the group’s collective attention toward their center, just to see—

  Oh shit.

  “What?” Myst asked from behind, his voice sounding almost annoyed.

  Cynthia forced herself to relax and turned to meet his gaze. One eyebrow was raised lazily. She stared at him for a long moment. Her mouth opened… then closed again. Myst frowned slightly, stepped down another step, and craned his neck to follow her line of sight.

  For a second, he scouted the lobby.

  Then he blinked, unimpressed, and turned back to her, confusion flickering in his bright blue eyes.

  “I don’t get it,” he said.

  Cynthia didn’t answer. She just raised a hand and pointed toward the crowd near the front desk.

  Myst sighed, followed her gesture, and for a moment, his gaze remained unfocused. Then, slowly, recognition clicked into place.

  His eyes widened.

  Then narrowed.

  “I still don’t get it. Why are you pointing at Johanna?” he asked, glancing at her again, clearly waiting for the punchline.

  Cynthia resisted the urge to groan.

  Of course he didn’t get it. She really should’ve known better.

  Honestly. Boys.

  She let out a slow breath.

  “Myst,” she said, her voice slow and patient, like she was explaining something to a particularly stubborn Growlithe. “Three days ago, when we last saw Johanna, what did we talk about?”

  Myst blinked. Blank.

  Cynthia sighed again, opening her mouth to explain—

  “I got it, I got it,” he cut in, “We talked about… uh… ehhhh…” He dragged out the last sound like it might magically turn into something coherent if he held it long enough.

  Her hand twitched, itching to meet her face in a friendly greeting.

  Yeah, we are not sleeping in again.

  Still, she managed to breathe through it. Controlled her fingers. Focused.

  “Meeting up, Myst. We talked about meeting up later. That was Three. Days. Ago.”

  Myst blinked again, lashes fluttered like the wings of a baby Starly.

  For a second, she almost snapped at him. Her mouth had already opened, the words perched on the edge of her tongue, sharp and ready. Instead she stayed like that for a moment, caught mid-breath, lips parted, eyes locked on Myst.

  Some part of her brain, still foggy with sleep, finally clicked.

  Myst was doing his Gym challenge today…

  And he looked awful.

  Eyes unfocused. Posture slouched. Feet barely lifting off the ground. He looked like a walking nap. The only time she’d seen him look worse was when he’d been bleeding out after the Vigoroth fiasco.

  She closed her mouth with a click.

  He was supposed to face Byron in a few hours. Sure, even half-asleep he could probably wipe Byron’s two-badge team, but Myst wanted to challenge the three-badge version. That was a real fight, even for him. More than that, because he only had Navi and Rei, it would still be two-on-three.

  He had an actual risk of losing.

  She let her head swing to Johanna’s group, then back to Myst.

  When she’d first spotted Johanna, her brain had immediately shifted into apology mode, ready to start planning how to explain the sudden radio silence. They had their excuses, sure, but no matter what, it was still their fault for just ghosting her.

  But looking at Myst?

  Yeah. That could wait.

  Johanna knew he was here for the badge. More than that, she was a trainer herself. She’d understand. Preparing for a Gym battle had a way of making everything else fade to the background.

  So, the reunion could come later. They could apologize later. Right now, Myst came first.

  “Cyn—” he started.

  She waved him off.

  “Coffee or tea?” she asked.

  Myst blinked. “What?”

  “I mean it,” she said, firm and focused. “Your Gym match is in three hours. You look dead on your feet. So. Coffee or tea?”

  He raised a finger. “But Johanna is—”

  She cut him off with a glare, irritation slipping into her voice at the way he said her name. “I know we forgot about her, but right now, she’s not important—” She paused for a second as Myst looked away.

  A quiet creak rang out behind her.

  Annoyance spilt over into anger. She narrowed her eyes, “Myst, I know you’re confident, but the third badge isn’t a jok—”

  A hand landed on her shoulder.

  She froze.

  “Wow. I’m not important, huh?” came Johanna’s voice, dry, amused, and far too close. “I swear, I get ten adoring fans asking for my autograph, and just as I’m starting to feel good about myself, I turn around, see you two, and—” Cynthia could hear the grin in her voice—“boom. Back down to earth.”

  Myst sighed softly.

  Cynthia felt any anger she might have had drain out of her. Slowly, mechanically, she turned around.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Johanna stood just behind her, an easy, amused smile on her lips.

  Cynthia stared.

  Back when they’d traveled together, she’d always thought Johanna was pretty. The kind of pretty that looked good in natural light, without trying too hard. Road-pretty. Casual-pretty.

  But now, after a few days in the city?

  Yeah, Johanna wasn’t pretty.

  She was beautiful.

  Her blue hair gleamed in the warm indoor lighting. Her posture was effortless. Her expression calm, warm, but with just enough edge to draw attention. And somehow, even wearing jeans and a simple white t-shirt, even while standing next to half a dozen Contest trainers dressed in carefully styled outfits, she outshone every single person in the room.

  Cynthia felt her hand drift up, slowly, instinctively, towards her own hair.

  For some reason, the first thought that came to her wasn’t an excuse. It wasn’t an apology.

  No.

  It was just:

  She hadn’t brushed her hair today.

  …

  Cynthia pouted slightly as Myst sipped his iced coffee.

  She had been worried. Honestly. No questions asked, genuinely worried. He’d looked terrible.

  Apparently, she hadn’t needed to be.

  Myst had taken two sips of the iced coffee, and like magic, before the caffeine could even kick in, he already looked better. And over the next twenty minutes? He’d gone from "barely functioning" to his current state: bright-eyed, grin plastered across his face, halfway through devouring a second iced coffee.

  And, somehow, that wasn’t even the worst part.

  No.

  That had been Rei and the look the little rabbit Pokémon had given her when she found out Cynthia had been the one to suggest sleeping in. The kind of flat, judgmental stare that said you should have known better.

  Cynthia pursed her lips, glaring across the table at Rei as the Buneary carefully divided her Oran berry cake in two. Then, with a sigh that radiated martyrdom, Rei handed half to Navi.

  As if showing off how to take care of somebody.

  As if Cynthia could have known that Myst functioned worse after sleeping in.

  So, really, if she stabbed her fork into her cake with a little too much force, who could blame her? She took another bite, dragging it through an extra smear of chocolate glaze, as if that might somehow make the whole situation a little better.

  Though…

  Well, it kind of did.

  She closed her eyes and let the chocolate melt across her tongue, deep, rich, and, most importantly, sweet. For a few moments, she just breathed. Just tasted. Most of the time, she didn’t mind the camping part of going on a journey. The dirt, the early mornings, the reheated meals, it was a part of the package.

  But still.

  Some part of her had missed this. Real food. Good desserts. And maybe most of all, eating without worrying about how much it all cost.

  A soft laugh made her open her eyes. She blinked, slowly pulling the fork from her mouth.

  “Really, thanks for buying Johanna. This place is amazing.”

  Johanna shrugged easily. “Well, you guys aren’t exactly swimming in cash, right? I’ve got more than I need, this doesn’t exactly hurt my wallet.”

  Cynthia glanced down at her cake.

  Even though it was delicious, and even though she definitely didn’t regret accepting Johanna’s offer about paying for breakfast, a part of her had wanted to refuse. After ghosting Johanna for three days, accepting her generosity now felt… wrong. Like a bribe she hadn’t earned.

  The rest of her?

  Cynthia cut off another neat bite, popped it into her mouth, and promptly melted into her chair.

  Yeah. Nothing beat dessert right after breakfast.

  Myst, apparently deciding that her just relaxing was illegal, slammed his empty cup onto the table like he was declaring war.

  “Another!” he said, voice growing rough, thickening with some kind of accent.

  Cynthia stared at him.

  Then, forcefully, she moved her eyes to his side, where Navi sat, one hand raised, a piece of cake floating in the air, like she wanted to mimic his slam, but couldn’t decide if the cake too valuable or not.

  She let herself take in the sight, and felt herself re-relax.

  Just this once, she could give Myst a pass.

  Johanna, seated to Myst’s right, leaned in slightly and gave him a knowing side-glance.

  “So, I guess you like it, even though you kept complaining about how bad coffee tastes?”

  Myst looked back at her, deadly serious.

  “Like it? I used to think coffee looked and tasted disgusting, but this—” he shook his head, trembling as if overwhelmed—“I don’t have words. This is so fucking good.”

  Johanna grinned. “Well, I won’t say I told you so.”

  Then she tipped her head toward the counter.

  “Still, don’t expect to find iced coffee like this everywhere. This place has the best iced coffee in the region. I end up drinking it pretty much every day when I’m in Oreburgh.”

  Myst glanced down at his empty cup like he’d just been told it was extinct.

  “You mean to say… I’ll be starved of this after we leave?”

  Johanna nodded solemnly. “Afraid so.”

  Myst let out a sound that landed somewhere between a groan and a heartbroken wail. But before Cynthia could open her mouth to comment, he was already on his feet.

  His face as serious as he ever got, he darted over to the counter, Rei and Navi on his heels, and waved over a barista.

  Cynthia’s eyes followed him as she slowly pulled the spoon from her mouth.

  “Should I be stopping him?” she asked dryly, watching him slap down enough cash for a third iced coffee. “He’s supposed to battle in a couple of hours…”

  Johanna just shrugged, completely unbothered.

  “I wouldn’t worry. He’s pretty tall, right? That means he can handle more caffeine than most. More body to process it.”

  Cynthia considered that. She mentally ran the numbers—height, weight, prior malnourishment, questionable sleep—and decided that if he went for a fourth, she’d intervene.

  Probably.

  Instead, she let her gaze drift back to Johanna. Her mouth opened, hesitated… then closed again.

  Johanna raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  Cynthia stared at her for a second longer.

  Then finally said, “Sorry about ghosting you that first day. Something came up. And after that…” She trailed off.

  Well, after that… she hadn’t really forgotten Johanna.

  Or, well, she had. At first. The first day she trained with Myst, Johanna hadn’t even entered her mind.

  But the second?

  She’d remembered, and chosen not to say anything. Not because she disliked Johanna. That wasn’t it. Johanna was kind. She could cook. She had this soft charisma that made people listen. She was someone you just couldn’t help but like.

  Somebody people respected.

  And that…

  Cynthia’s fingers drifted down to her belt, brushing against the smooth, cool surface of Queenie’s Poké Ball. The steel-capped sphere sat snug in its socket, a familiar weight at her side.

  “It’s fine,” Johanna said softly.

  Cynthia snapped her face up to meet Johanna’s eyes, but Johanna wasn’t watching her, just calmly stirring the last of the ice in her drink.

  “To be honest,” Johanna continued, still not looking at her, “I haven’t known you for long, but… I don’t take you for the type to forget a promise. You’re too detail-focused for that.”

  She gave the cup another small swirl. Ice clinked.

  “I figured something must’ve come up. And after that, maybe it just felt awkward. Or maybe you just didn’t have the time. It happens. Honestly, it’s probably just as much my fault. I never thought about how to stay in touch if we missed each other.”

  Finally, she looked over and smiled. Not forced. Not dramatic. Just warm.

  “So how about we call it even?” she said gently. “You helped me when you didn’t have to, and now you’re focused on helping Myst. So don’t worry about the whole ‘forget Johanna’ thing—I get it. That’s just life. People drift in and out of focus all the time. What matters is that when they come back, they still mean something. That they can still be friends.”

  Cynthia stared at her.

  At the easy confidence in her voice. The way she said it so simply. Like it didn’t even require forgiveness. She opened her mouth, half wanting to say thanks, half wanting to argue, when a small, rapid voice suddenly cut in from the side.

  “Can-I-have-your-autograph-please!”

  Cynthia nearly jumped.

  She managed not to flinch, but her hand still dropped instinctively to Queenie’s Poké Ball, her head snapping toward the voice—

  And then she froze.

  A young girl stood beside their table, shy and stiff, head bowed, arms stretched forward to offer what looked like a school workbook. Behind her stood a boy, about the same age, grinning like he'd just won the lottery.

  Johanna paused, just for a breath, looking like she needed a second to reorient, then broke into a bright smile.

  “Of course!” she said warmly. “I didn’t expect people to recognize me outside my Contest costume, but I guess your eye for details is just too good, huh?”

  She laughed lightly as she accepted the workbook, easily dragging the pen stuck into the books ringed spine out.

  “So, who should I address it to?”

  The little girl, still bowing, mumbled something too quietly to hear.

  Johanna tilted her head, the pen hovering over the page. “Sorry, could you say that again?”

  The girl opened her mouth, hesitated, then glanced around. A couple of nearby tables hurriedly turned away, but it was too late. She shrank back, trembling, and even before Johanna could open her mouth to reassure her, the boy leapt forward.

  “Come on, Gracie! You need to speak up!” he exclaimed, waving his arms dramatically. “This is your idol! A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”

  Like somebody had flipped a switch, the girl’s head snapped, face already bright red.

  “Shut up, Oliver!”

  The boy glared. “What! You were the one who couldn’t say your name!”

  “That’s because it’s Johanna! She’s the best Contest trainer in all of Sinnoh! How can I just speak up in front of her!”

  The smile on Johanna’s face, which had been magazine-perfect up until that moment, shifted. It widened just slightly, too wide for poise. Her eyes turned into crescents, like someone savoring their favorite dessert.

  Cynthia blinked slightly.

  That… that expression reminded her of how Johanna sometimes looked at her and Myst when they talked. Amused. Hungry. Like she was watching something too good to interrupt.

  Johanna noticed Cynthia’s glance.

  And then, very deliberately, she smoothed out her expression. She blinked once, twice, then, face returned to normal, she reached out and gently tapped the little girl on the shoulder.

  “So it’s Gracie, huh?”

  The girl froze.

  Then slowly, very slowly, she turned back to Johanna.

  Her eyes were huge.

  Her mouth hung open in silent horror, like she just realized how she had acted.

  The boy answered again, face serious.

  “Her name is Grace, and she is going to be the best Contest star in the future.” He beat his chest, back straight, without a hint of fear. “And I’m going to become champion.”

  Johanna nodded, hand already writing. “That’s great! You have a Pokémon partner yet?”

  The boy paused at that, furrowing his brows.

  “Well, no, but I still have plenty of time. The champion got their partner at fourteen, you know. I still have three years before then.”

  Johanna nodded at his reply, then gently placed the book back in the girl’s trembling hands, grinning cheekily.

  “So you are going to become the best Contest star huh? I guess I need to retire soon, before the competition gets serious then?” she asked, teasing.

  The girl’s eyes widened again.

  “NO! You can’t! You have to win another conference! That would make you the only three-time winning Contest conference trainer in Sinnoh! Nobody could say you’re worse than Lilia then!”

  Johanna nodded thoughtfully. “I guess you’re right.”

  The little girl beamed at the reply, delighted that her words had seemingly changed her idol’s mind. She opened her mouth, but before she could say a word, the boy beside her gasped.

  Cynthia flicked her eyes over to him, just in time to catch him pointing.

  “You are that girl!”

  She froze, and before her brain could catch up to her mouth, she uttered a stiff, “Pardon?”

  “From the cover! The girl with a Riolu and a Gabite!” he exclaimed.

  Cynthia felt herself freeze as nearby tables started casting glances. Quickly, she forced a smile onto her face.

  Her stomach still twisted faintly.

  “Eh, I think you got the wron—” she began, but the boy barrelled right through.

  “You are sooo COOL! I saw your battle against Byron, and you demolished him!” He scrambled through his words, snatching the notebook from the girl’s hands. “And, and—and your Gabite blew Benkara’s Tropius out of the water! You’re definitely going to win the conference this year! I am your biggest fan!”

  Cynthia glanced down at the notebook he held out to her, the exact same one the girl had offered moments earlier.

  “Please give me your autograph! Address it to Oliver, please!”

  She stared for a few seconds.

  Then, slowly, she felt her face heat up.

  She hesitated. Until the boy, maybe sensing it, suddenly bowed.

  “Please!”

  As she took the notebook, placed it on the table, and slowly began to scribble her signature, the one she definitely hadn’t practiced, into the book, she wasn’t sure what her face looked like.

  But she did know one thing.

  When she looked back up, Myst was already sitting at the table again, sipping on his iced coffee, grinning from ear to ear.

  She glared at him.

  Ignored the way Rei’s face twisted into adorable concentration as she carefully tried to cut the Oran cake so her slice looked like half, while very clearly being bigger.

  Ignored the boy and the girl running off to rejoin their school group, already yelling about how they had to get their Pokémon on the school trip to the mines.

  Hell, she even ignored Johanna, whose smile had shifted back to that one, looking like she was reading her favourite novel in public.

  All her focus was locked squarely on Myst, as he slowly, deliberately twisted his face into a picture of innocent confusion.

  And, in the most obnoxiously innocent voice imaginable, said:

  “Pardon?”

  …

  Cynthia wanted to say she was still feeling mad as she stared down at Myst making his way into the arena.

  That would have been a lie.

  Hell, even now, she felt herself grinning ever so slightly, unable to calm down fully.

  She had always known there were people paying attention to her, had the sort of far-off knowledge that while some people didn’t like her, there had to be some who did.

  But she hadn’t imagined actually meeting a fan.

  Beside her Johanna giggled softly.

  “You didn’t think everybody hated you right?”

  Cynthia didn’t let her grin slip from her face, even as she answered.

  “Of course I didn’t, that would be stupid.”