Honestly, Cynthia had expected the hardest part of the day to be asking Johanna. Not because she thought it would be embarrassing, she had a pretty strong feeling Johanna wanted to join them anyway, but because rejection always lingered at the back of her mind.

  Turns out, she shouldn’t have.

  The second she asked, Johanna had lit up like a sunflower and agreed on the spot, only pausing to say she’d need an hour to gather her things and that they could meet at her hotel before setting off. So, with that in the bag, Cynthia had assumed that Myst swinging by the League Circuit office to pick up his second stipend payment would barely even qualify as a speed bump.

  She was wrong.

  Almost thirty minutes later, she sighed, arms crossed as she leaned against the far wall and watched Myst at the desk.

  The conversation had looped in circles. Back and forth. Three times. Maybe four.

  And it always ended the same.

  "I won’t be getting more money for another two months?” Myst asked, voice pitching toward disbelief. He leaned forward on the counter, palms braced like he might collapse without the support. “There’s nothing to discuss? No way to get even a portion early?”

  The League official just sighed, “That’s how the subsidized program works,” he explained again. “The money you got was meant to last three months, not one. If you’ve already burned through it, there’s nothing I can do. Hell, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t access your next payment, it doesn’t even exist in the system yet.”

  Myst stared at him for a long moment, eyes searching for any sign of flexibility, or even sympathy. When none appeared, he licked his lips.

  “So there’s really nothing else I can do?”

  The official shrugged. “Nope. Though, if you’re desperate, I can recommend you to Wally’s. Not glamorous, but if you’ve got gear to sell, you might get enough to float for a bit. Better than the prices at a standard Poké Mart, anyway.”

  Myst blinked, “Wally’s?”

  “Yeah. Second-hand Poké Mart down the street. He’s usually fair with younger trainers.” Then, without missing a beat, the man called out, “Next!”

  Myst’s face twitched, whether from frustration or just sheer exhaustion, Cynthia couldn’t tell, but he didn’t argue. He turned on his heel and stepped aside, letting the next person in line take his place.

  When he reached her, he offered a brittle smile. “Okay. So, me buying the extra food might take a little more time than I thought.”

  Cynthia glanced up at the wall clock, then back at him. “Mm. I see. And who was it that said we should’ve handled all this two days ago? You know, when we were literally doing nothing?”

  Myst paused, turned, and instantly rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful. “Color me surprised, I didn’t realize you could see the future. You should’ve used those powers for good. Like warning me that Navi was going to evolve and suddenly eat like a whale. Or, I don’t know, that the stipend wasn’t monthly. If you saw that one coming, I would’ve really appreciated the heads-up.”

  Cynthia glanced at him, then sighed. “Okay, fair point… Still, I did say it was weird how big the initial payout was.”

  Myst lifted a finger like he was about to argue, then slowly lowered it. “…Fair.”

  She shook her head.

  According to Myst, the official who’d helped him apply said the stipend was part of a semi-new initiative from the Champion, a support system for first-time trainers who lacked… well, a support system. In Cynthia’s opinion, it sounded like a great idea: a way for orphans and kids from low-income families to experience a Journey they might otherwise never afford.

  But for something supposedly that important, there had been barely any coverage. Nothing like the backlash over the Gym Circuit restrictions, or the publicity surrounding the reduced cost of Pokémon nutrition powder for first-time challengers. This initiative had slipped completely under the radar.

  In other words… she’d taken Myst at his word. She’d assumed he was getting monthly payments.

  Clearly, she should’ve looked into it herself.

  Myst exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well. Nothing we can do about it now. Still need to get food though, so… I guess I’m off to sell one of my Poké Balls. You go find Johanna, and I’ll meet you wherever this Wally guy’s shop is?”

  Cynthia let out a breath and glanced at the clock again.

  So much for leaving early.

  She gave him a nod, before saying dryly. “Alright. Just don’t let him swindle you.”

  Myst offered a dry smile. “No promises.”

  …

  The trip to Johanna’s hotel didn’t take long, and before Cynthia knew it, she was watching Johanna in the lobby mirror, adjusting a pair of bulky sunglasses with theatrical precision.

  “You need a disguise?” Cynthia asked, one eyebrow raised as Johanna tilted her head and studied herself from another angle.

  “Not usually,” Johanna replied, nodding at her reflection. “But apparently I made an impression on the people watching the Contest. Crushing everybody has a tendency to do that.” Then she turned with a bright grin. “I’m ready. You said we’re meeting Myst where?”

  Cynthia, already halfway to the door, glanced over her shoulder as Johanna jogged to catch up. “At some place called Wally’s.”

  Once outside, Johanna squinted against the light and arched a brow. “The knock-off Poké Mart place? What’s he doing there?”

  Cynthia gave a helpless little smile. “Ran out of money. He’s selling off an extra Poké Ball. Or two, depending on what he gets for them.”

  Johanna laughed. “Running out of money? Damn, that’s a blast from the past. I swear, the hardest part of your first circuit isn’t beating the Gyms, it’s learning how to budget.”

  Cynthia almost nodded along, her own money struggles flashing through her mind, before she paused.

  “You made it to the sixth Gym, right?”

  Johanna nodded easily. “Yeah. Though honestly? We probably could’ve made it all the way. It wasn’t that we couldn’t beat the seventh Gym, but we decided to focus on Contests instead… Then again, if we’d reached the Conference, we wouldn’t have made it far.”

  Cynthia stopped in her tracks.

  Johanna paused a second later, glancing back with a raised eyebrow.

  Cynthia studied her: casual outfit, sunglasses pushed up into loose, windblown hair—nothing like the polished figure on the Contest stage, poised and flawless. It was hard to reconcile this easygoing girl with the performer who had seemed to fold the entire arena around her finger.

  But knowing they were the same person… she couldn’t quite make sense of what Johanna had just said.

  “Johanna,” Cynthia said slowly, “how can you say you wouldn’t have made it far? I know Contests aren’t the same, but the way Midna used Double Team, how she kept Moonlight going through the entire performance? I don’t think even most Elite Four members could pull that off. You’re obviously good enough to go the distance.”

  She hesitated, then added, “Even during Myst’s Gym Challenge, you said your Pokémon never used moves like that. But... they can. Obviously.”

  Johanna stopped walking. Then she turned, face carefully neutral. “I wasn’t lying,” she said quietly. “I just meant… I never had them fight like that. Chaining moves? Maybe, by the time I had six badges, I could have trained them to do the same. But switching between them that fluidly? Bouncing between five or six different techniques on the fly, always landing on the right one at the right time?” She shook her head. “No way. Not a chance in hell.”

  Cynthia raised a single eyebrow, radiating disbelief.

  Johanna caught the look and smiled bitterly. “Yeah, I see it. You don’t believe me. But it’s the truth.” Her gaze flicked down briefly before returning to Cynthia. “You brought up what I said, that I never had my Pokémon use moves like Myst’s? Well, do you remember that I also mentioned those trainers who look unbeatable in showcases but fall apart in real battles?”

  She paused, then almost casually, she explained, “It might be little bit hard to believe, considering I crushed everybody yesterday, but I was talking about myself.”

  Her eyes drifted away, looking slightly above Cynthia’s head. “For the longest time, honestly, even now, battling’s always been my one big weakness. The reason I beat Gyms wasn’t because I was some great battler. It was because I’m really good at training my team. At tailoring them.”

  She shook her head again, slower this time. “I used to spend weeks planning every Gym battle. I’d drill my team on specific moves, refine every detail until they could do it in their sleep. Usually I’d choose just four moves and teach them only those, over and over, until they barely remembered anything else. Each of them had a single role in battle. And only that role.”

  She gave a dry laugh. “I treated every Gym like a logic puzzle. Not a fight. I mean, at first I had to, Byron isn’t exactly beatable with just a Glameow and an Eevee, but then the habit stuck. I did it for every Gym after that.”

  Her shoulders slumped, and she looked away. “But without all that prep? No planning, no control? If I went up against a trainer with even a couple fewer badges, I’d usually lose. I couldn’t adapt. I needed things to be perfect.”

  She turned and began walking again. “Eventually, I burned out. Prepping like that for every single Gym battle, always under pressure, always on the move... it just wore me down. I needed something different. That’s when I entered a Contest, just to try something new.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  She snapped her fingers. “Then, just like that, I fell in love.”

  Her smile turned real, warm, and a little wistful. “The way I trained, the way I focused on precision? All the things that were problems in the Gym Challenge became my biggest strengths. Sure, I still struggled with the battle portions, but in Contests? The battles are equal parts performance and strategy.”

  She glanced at Cynthia and grinned. “And shows? Well... that I can do.”

  Cynthia looked at her for a moment, then turned away.

  She had a bunch of things she wanted to say, but in the end it all just boiled down to a very simple:

  “Obviously.”

  …

  As they reached a bench just down the street from the brightly painted, aggressively friendly storefront of Wally’s Mart, Johanna peeled off with a quick wave.

  Merely managing to say, “Back in a sec. Coffee emergency.”

  So that left Cynthia alone, just long enough to dig her Pokédex out of her bag and focus on her latest project.

  Her fingers trembled slightly as she tapped the notebook icon. The file opened to reveal a single bold line at the top:

  Stuff to ask if Myst knows.

  She stared at it for a moment. Then another. A sigh slipped out.

  Myst might have been the one to bring up the idea yesterday, but it had been her suggestion to cross-reference what he did and didn’t know. And, for all her confidence when she had first brought it up, even back then Myst had a point. Coming up with actual gaps was easier said than done.

  So, she hesitated... then began to type.

  Then deleted it.

  Her mind kept circling. What didn’t he know?

  Pokémon moves?

  A dry laugh escaped her. Unless you were talking about some obscure edge-case interaction, Myst probably knew more than she did.

  Training methods?

  That would take days of careful observation before she could even guess at the kind of advice he didn’t already follow. And while that might help, it wasn’t something she could walk up and hand him. She wanted a list, not another "let’s spend two more days figuring it out" situation.

  She bit her lip.

  The obvious gaps, everything about Aura and type energies, were already long uncovered. The nutrition thing had been an exception, not the rule.

  So… what did that even leave?

  She typed etiquette for crowds but didn’t make it to the second word before a hand landed on her shoulder.

  “You trying to figure out what Myst doesn’t know?” Johanna’s voice cut in, peering over Cynthia’s shoulder with a curious grin. “Have you told him about the whole Clan thing yet?”

  Cynthia jumped and quickly shut the Pokédex, turning around. “It’s not a big deal,” she said a little too fast. “We just thought it might be useful to make a list, that’s all. And it’s not just for him, I’ve got questions too. Like if he knows—”

  She stopped. Her mouth kept moving, but no words came out.

  Why was she suddenly feeling so defensive?

  Johanna leaned back, covering her mouth as her eyes crinkled with amusement. “Makes sense. Amnesia’s a pain, right?” She paused, thoughtful. “Honestly, it still feels weird to even say it out loud. Myst doesn’t act like someone with amnesia. I always imagined… I don’t know. More drooling, less sarcasm… I mean, between the two of you, I would say he has the more common sense.”

  Cynthia pressed her lips together, ignoring the playful jab. “Well, that’s kind of the problem. He’s too good at pretending he’s fine. You should’ve seen him back in Eterna, he looked like he hadn’t eaten in a week, but he was acting like he could run a marathon.”

  Johanna settled onto the bench beside her, placing down her new cup of coffee. “Well, I guess I get to uncover the mysteries of Myst, if we are going to be asking him a bunch of questions… no pun intended.”

  Cynthia stared at her for a few seconds, then giggled despite herself. “You know, talking about his name, can you guess what name he picked?”

  Johanna raised an eyebrow. “No?”

  Cynthia opened her mouth to explain—

  “Cynthia, right? From the Coronet Mines rescue?”

  She turned sharply. A woman was rushing toward them, hair askew, shoes scuffing across the pavement in her haste.

  “Yes?” Cynthia said cautiously.

  The woman stopped a few feet away. Then, without warning, she bowed low. “I can’t thank you enough. If you hadn’t been there—” Her voice cracked, and she clenched her fists. “If you hadn’t been there, Oliver might not have come back.”

  For a second Cynthia just stared at her. Then she shot to her feet, instantly waving her off. “It wasn’t a big deal. Anyone would’ve—”

  “It was a big deal,” the woman said, standing up, her voice firm. “You may have saved Oliver’s life. Don’t downplay it.”

  Cynthia’s mouth fell open at the bluntness of it. Of course she’d known, but hearing it said that way…

  She glanced at Johanna, hoping for backup. But Johanna had already turned away, shrinking into the bench like she might melt into it.

  The woman took a step closer.

  “Finding Oliver and the others… and then helping with the search for William?” she continued, her tone soft but intense. “That’s not something just anybody does. That’s the behavior of a hero, not of some ordinary girl. So don’t say that anybody would have done the same, it’s not true.”

  Cynthia felt her smile grow slightly more blank.

  The woman paused at that, taking a step back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. I just wanted to say thank you.”

  She reached into her purse and carefully grabbed Cynthia’s hand, before turning it palm-up.

  “Honestly, the reason I rushed over was because Oliver wanted you to have this,” she said, placing a small marble in her palm. “He found it on a school trip to Route 206. It’s been his lucky charm ever since. He’s under house arrest right now, so he gave it to me to pass along. I didn’t think I’d catch you, figured you’d have moved on by now… but here you are.”

  Cynthia blinked down at the marble. It shimmered faintly in the sunlight, catching a soft rainbow sheen along its surface.

  She closed her fingers around it and looked up with a quiet smile. “Thanks. I’ll take good care of it.”

  The woman smiled back. “Sorry this is all we can give. If we had more, we would. But no matter what happens, you’ll always have three fans in a little family from Oreburgh.”

  Then, with a final nod, she turned and left.

  Just like that.

  Cynthia sat down again slowly, the marble still curled tight in her fist. For a while, the only sound was the distant hum of people moving.

  Then she exhaled. “…Telling Myst about the clans is a good idea,” she said. “I haven’t really thought about it, but it’s the kind of stuff that might be useful information.”

  Johanna took a slow sip of coffee, gaze still following the woman’s retreating form. “Honestly? Don’t you think most of what he’s missing is cultural?” She glanced back at Cynthia. “I mean you know him better, but as far as I could tell he knows a ton about Pokémon. It’s the people stuff he trips over. Like with Contests, he got the concept, but the way he talked about them? Calling them ‘beauty shows’? That’s something you’d hear from someone who’s never actually seen one before. Or isn’t from here.”

  Cynthia sighed, slumping a little. “I get that. But I don’t think that’s what he meant when he asked me to do this. He wanted to go over Pokémon-related stuff. Not… like… whether he’s supposed to take his shoes off when he enters someone’s house.”

  Johanna tapped her fingers on the bench, thoughtful. Cynthia grabbed her water bottle and took her own sip.

  “You’ve been thinking about this a lot,” Johanna said after a pause. “About how he’ll feel. Do you ever ask him directly? Like… what he remembers?”

  Cynthia paused, then shrugged. “Of course. But it’s not like he knows everything. And more than that, he only seems to remember things when something prompts him. Asking stuff like ‘what evolutions do I not know about’ doesn’t help. It needs to be at least semi-specific, like ‘what Pokémon evolves with a Fire Stone?’ or ‘how does Mantyke evolve’”

  She hesitated, then added, “We used to talk more while cooking. But after Cycling Road… we haven’t really gotten back to that. And lately…”

  Her hand curled tighter around the marble.

  Johanna didn’t press, simply taking another sip of her coffee.

  Cynthia sighed at the lack of response and drank another mouthful.

  Then—

  “You like him, don’t you?”

  Cynthia choked. Water went up her nose, down the wrong pipe, and all over her chin. She coughed violently, eyes watering as she gasped for breath.

  Then, when she finally managed to breathe, and glare, again, Johanna tilted her head. “I mean, you say you’re not together, but what does that mean? That you like him, but you’re not sure? That you’re afraid it’ll get weird if you say something? Or that it’s just not the right time?”

  Cynthia narrowed her eyes, swiping away the water leaking from her eyes. “Where is this even coming from? We’re friends. Just two people traveling together. Me wanting to help him isn’t weird.”

  Johanna gave a small, knowing smile. “Friends help each other. They don’t get nervous about how the other person might feel about it. The way you’re worrying now? That doesn’t sound like friendship to me.”

  Cynthia didn’t answer. She just glared harder.

  Johanna shrugged. “You don’t have to answer. Just… think about it.”

  A pause. Then her grin turned impish.

  “Honestly, I was mostly asking for practical reasons,” Johanna said, glancing slyly at Cynthia. “You know, in case Myst ever asks me to help him impress some girl, wingwoman-style.”

  She leaned in, mock-serious. “Should I help… or sabotage?”

  Before Cynthia could respond, Johanna sipped her coffee again and shot a thoughtful glance toward the store where Myst was. “I mean, he’s not bad-looking. Clean him up a little, and he could be Sinnoh’s next teenage heartthrob.”

  Cynthia stared. Johanna just kept smiling.

  And something in her cracked.

  Johanna was serious.

  She was actually asking if Cynthia liked Myst.

  A question that had an easy answer.

  Of course she liked him.

  But as a frien—

  Her thoughts stuttered.

  She imagined Myst laughing with someone else, leaning close to share thoughts and theories and dumb little facts. Traveling with somebody else. Listening to someone else talk about ruins.

  Her heart twisted, sharp and sudden.

  Obviously Myst could do what he wanted. She had no right to interfere. Just because he was the first person who made her feel heard, who saw her as more than just a Shirona or that girl from the news, didn’t mean…

  She looked down at the marble in her hand.

  …Okay. She wasn’t going to lie to herself. Her feelings for Myst were probably more than just friendship.

  And that was fine. Totally normal. Understandable, even. Near-death bonding. Emotional vulnerability. Suspension bridge effect. Completely explainable.

  It wasn’t like she wanted to date him or anything.

  She was focused. She had goals. She didn’t need distractions.

  So if Myst wanted a girlfriend, she would support him. No problem.

  She opened her mouth, ready to say exactly that.

  What actually came out was… sort of that.

  “Sabotage,” she blurted out.

  If you squinted.

  Johanna blinked. “What?”

  Cynthia looked her dead in the eye. “If he asks, you should sabotage him.”

  Really hard.

  Johanna stared at her for a second.

  Then she broke into a brilliant grin and gave her a thumbs-up. “No problem.”

  …

  If you didn’t include Mount Coronet in the equation, Route 207 was one of the shortest routes in the region. Mostly a straight path, the reason for its establishment had more to do with the politics around Route 206 than really needing to exist. Still, the longest part by far was the climb between Oreburgh and the mountain itself, a steep, winding stretch that most travelers tackled over two days. Better to take it slow and camp than rush it and end up three-quarters through, exhausted and half-fainted.

  Their plan hadn’t been much different: one day of walking, camping a little closer to the three-quarter mark than halfway, then another day to finish the climb and get some distance into the cave passages of Mount Coronet.

  Well. That had been the plan.

  Cynthia poked the fire with a stick, watching the flames dance as she stared toward the treeline outside the cave mouth. The night air pulsed with the steady hum of Kricketot, hundreds of them, by the sound of it. One on its own was just irritating noise. But together, they created something oddly soothing. Almost like white noise.

  Myst dropped down beside her with a quiet groan, wincing as he lowered himself to the stone. “Okay, seriously, I know I burned some time earlier, but did you have to set a pace where nobody had enough energy left to even speak?”

  “Yes,” Cynthia replied immediately, eyes still on the fire.

  Myst blinked. “Wow. No hesitation at all, huh.”

  She allowed herself a small, satisfied smile, pulling her knees closer and curling into her own warmth as the firelight flickered across the stone walls. Beside her, Myst sighed dramatically and stretched his legs out with far too much flair.

  They were long legs.

  Cynthia’s eyes drifted to them automatically. She followed the shape of them from boot to knee to thigh, half-lost in thought, watching the way his foot absently scraped against a rock, how the fabric pulled slightly at the bend of his knee, how the firelight carved faint shadows around the beginnings of defined muscle—

  “You like them?” Myst asked, voice casual. “You should try them without the covering. Much tastier.”

  Cynthia froze.

  Her face went crimson as her eyes snapped up to him, heart lurching in panic. What—?!

  But Myst wasn’t looking at her.

  He was facing Navi.

  The newly minted Kirlia stood just a few feet away, holding a berry in her small hands—rind and all—having taken a generous bite straight through the skin. Her eyes flashed a soft blue for a moment, and Myst sighed like someone dealing with a very stubborn child.

  “I didn’t say you needed to peel it,” he said tiredly. “Just that it can be peeled.”

  Navi gave him a pointed sniff.

  “Seriously,” he added, softer, “just eat it however you want. I bought it to celebrate you evolving. I was just giving a suggestion, not writing a rulebook.”

  Navi let out a soft, melodic laugh, amused and unbothered, before plopping down beside Myst and mimicking his stretch, her own small legs splaying awkwardly in front of her.

  Cynthia groaned and buried her face in her knees.

  Damn Johanna and her games.

  Ah, yes, writing a scene where Cynthia struggles to figure out what Myst doesn't know… while I also am trying to figure that out lol.

  But, well, nothing of importance happened this chapter…

  Surely.