With his cap in one hand, Red scratched his head in abject confusion. The room was kept too cool for comfort, and the white-theme didn't help separating it from a freezer. The impassive faces of the computers didn't mind. Neither did the man in a lab coat. There were counters built into each of the rooms as somebody long ago had made the terrible decision of either making a lab into a gym or a gym into a lab. He was typing away on the glowing screen while standing at the far side of the room, occasionally taking a sip from the steaming cup positioned on the opposite side of his mouse.

  The keyboard that he'd been forced to interact with was connected to a bulky white body, nearly stretched to the ceiling, as the little keyboard stuck out like the lip of a pouting child. It had more in common with an ATM with its thick plastic skin made for punishment. Scratches inflicted on the bulbous body from earlier frustrated trainers had intimidated Red when he first saw it.

  The display kept flickering. Not that it made the question any harder to read. He'd memorized it down to the punctuation.

  "If we create an equation where the amount of known Kanto-native grass/poison types are added to the amount of known Kanto-native poison/ground types, subtract with the amount of known Kanto-native sole fire-types, multiply with the known Kanto-native sole dragon-types, then what number would we come to?"

  Well, Red thought naively ten minutes ago, that was easy. He had the pokédex for a reason. Just searching them up would give him the answers. It all came with the way that the sentence was worded. First was sole—as in, only typed with fire. So he got that wrong. Then came the fact that he forgot all the exact evolutions that led to the dual typings; he resolved to request a search bar to find pokémon when he saw Professor Oak. Then he realized that he had the wrong amount of dragon-types too, as that also had 'sole' behind it.

  So the equation that he was looking at was 9 + 2 - 10 x 2, he was pretty sure. Frustrated after getting his legitimate solutions denied, he typed in a random number. Beep! The screen flashed 'ERROR' with a frowny face at the bottom. When he tried typing another number, there was a slight delay. Having another wrong answer took an entire minute before resetting into the anxious blinking line. The machine was made purposely languid. To his horror, typing in another (educated) guess made it stall for another two minutes.

  No hints were forthcoming. He was either getting the pokémon wrong, reading the question wrong, doing the math wrong, misunderstanding the question, and nobody was going to help him. Red slumped against the keyboard, fingers working into his knotted hair in frustration.

  Giggles came from the other side of the camera when he started kicking the machine. Marley stood behind the boys acting like schoolchildren, frowning.

  "I'm sorry for doubting you, sir! I thought that this would be the easiest question, but obviously I've got things to learn," Lane said between chortles.

  Blaine's snickers kept interrupting his sentence. "It's-It's-It's a big problem when you think about it. Trainers being the most mathematically illiterate group in society has been an undying trend. This is a sticking point that he'll have to fix once ascending to the rank. Champions aren't all about battling! From the simplest problem of correctly counting to knowing the order of operations, hopefully this gives him a kick in the butt to learn!"

  Marley's frown only deepened when another round of uproarious laughter came up at Red clenching the keyboard.

  "This is a bit too mean-spirited for me."

  Lane turned around. "What? Making fun of Red not having any math skills?"

  She didn't offer any other explanation. The little corner that they had made to spectate the challenger became awkward, just watching as the boy slammed down onto the keyboard and got reprimanded by the scientist.

  Blaine wasn't one to leave things be. "You misunderstand something. How far can mean-spiritedness be carried? Making fun of a friend hitting their head on a door frame, doing pranks, isn't meant to cause long-lasting harm. There's no issue with getting a little entertainment from something that is ultimately harmless."

  "But it isn't harmless, is it? You're making their day worse."

  "Marginally worse. At the end of the day, annoying our Champion-to-be with this question for twenty minutes isn't going to do much except make him briefly annoyed." Blaine gestured to the blinking red screen. "Besides, haven't you heard of tough love? That's what my gym is. For the most part, you can do any other gym in any order. Getting out to Cinnabar either means that you have the money to pay for a ferry or have surfed out here. Only dedicated trainers come here. If you can't answer a few questions, then you don't have any business being an ace trainer."

  "Is there something more to being an ace trainer than just being good?" Lane asked.

  Both of them looked indignant that he even implied that. Blaine was the one who responded. "Of course there is! I'm sure that your point of confusion is the same as anybody else's, so let me correct that faulty assumption: gym leaders aren't meant to be the pinnacle of trainers; rather, they're meant to be cultivating the next few generations of genius trainers. Ace trainers are the ones who are meant to be the human font of our knowledge on pokémon. Gym leaders are a way for us to always have people in hand to defend against great threats relating to pokémon and acting as a rite of passage."

  "Isn't the champion supposed to be the strongest?" Lane asked.

  "That's different," Marley interjected. "When someone challenges the gyms and beats them all, it's with the intention of proving that they're competent trainers. When someone challenges the Elite 4 and Champion, it's with the intention of proving that they're the best of the best. It's no big deal when an ace trainer is better than a gym leader, since the gym leaders are also selected to be of varying power levels, and even the best are strapped down to their responsibilities rather than solely training. This is pretty universal. Back home, most of the weaker gym leaders picked up serious training later in their—oh."

  The door finally wooshed open. Red stomped through.

  Blaine grabbed his strap of pokéballs and hastily threw them over his shoulder while running out of the room. The other two followed along, not minding being a little later to the arena that was behind Blaine's personal lab. It was about the most generic room that Lane could imagine. Three seat high bleachers surrounded the red arena that was slightly recessed into the ground. The surface itself was a monoculture of tennis court smoothness, the friction on top feeling nearly magical since it was a completely flat surface. It was a pale red like faded bricks. Perfect white lines needed maintenance more often for the wear of time rather than battle.

  "PEMDAS!" Blaine yelled.

  Red didn't respond. Neither of the spectators were interested in the fight. Marley still couldn't think of the kid as an elite trainer and Lane knew it was a foregone conclusion.

  To that end, his head lolled over to the girl sitting next to him.

  "So what're you even doing in this obscure corner of Kanto?"

  "What are you doing here?" she countered.

  A flush of heat overcame the arena, Sunny Day. God rays shone when there weren't even any windows, only gigantic vents smattered around the ceiling that had thick red blades swirling beneath grates. Dying of smoke inhalation would've been too ironic for Blaine to accept.

  "Waiting for him." Lane pointed down at the arena. Already starting with Charizard, the pokémon fully abused the boost to his fire-type attacks by creating entire whirlwinds of fire that quickly overtook the Ninetales. "I've been following him around. I think that's going to stop soon enough."

  "Why?"

  "'Cause I think if he challenged me right now then he'd rip straight through my little cute pokémon." He called out Lulu and held her out for emphasis. An instinctive fear made her warily watch the wall of fire that was expanding to cover the whole field. "C'mon, big sis! You're awfully closed off, which ain't that weird with how quiet you are, but it makes a guy curious!"

  "You really are?"

  "I really am."

  "Hm." Marley looked back to the battle for a distraction. Blaine's pokémon couldn't match the sheer power that created an unbearable heat simmering her tear film. "Sorry. I guess that it's because I'm doing something pretty ridiculous that I don't like talking about it. Even some of my family gives me grief over it. I just don't trust somebody that I've only known for two weeks to be nicer than people that I've known my entire life. Sorry."

  Lulu leapt from Lane's grip onto his shoulder. Sitting down, she just nodded to herself in wonder. It was fun being so high, but she preferred moving with her own two feet.

  Lane sighed, scratching the back of his hand. "Ain't the opinion of a random trainer less important than of people you've known for longer?"

  "It still hurts all the same," Marley replied.

  With a shrug, he decided that it was a lost cause. "You're going somewhere after this, right? Maybe I'll keep an eye out for you. Show that I'm not just gonna be mean to your dreams or whatever. Least I could do. S'not like my own are sophisticated or whatever; I just like traveling."

  A measured gaze tried ripping the truth out of him. Eventually she said, "I'll be in the area of Vermillion for a while after this."

  "Then we'll see each other there. Maybe, maybe."

  Despite the rising heat, he felt a chill settle on his back. The sneeze was so violent that Lulu had to wrap her arms around his head to keep herself stable.

  The fight's conclusion was already decided when Red had been messed with. The badge that flitted through his fingers didn't alleviate any of the annoyance, especially when the ferry ride he took back had another annoyance riding alongside him.

  Just one day more, both of them knew.

  Lane kicked his feet in the air, bored, inside the sterile atmosphere. Bookshelves behind him that rose beyond any normal person's height were filled from wall to wall with esoteric knowledge. 'Mating Behaviors of Pikachu Within Varying Environments' and 'Writings on the Johto Theory of Evolution' sat beside each other without knowing how intimidating they were. Overlaid like lobby music was various machines churning and buzzing and all those terrifying sounds of science. Only a hallway leading straight to the professor's desk was afforded complete cleanliness. The rest of the room was dirtied with knowledge competing for attention, alongside the aides combating the jungle. Lane guessed that they were actually working quite hard despite the movements having an exhausted weight to them; two hadn't moved since greeting the visitors as they were too busy reading. It was wholly unsuited for his personality and he normally would've left.

  Quiet musings were cut short when two people came through the front door. The vaunted professor of the region had looked delighted since they came, though Lane suspected that was the professor's resting expression. The gray, clean hair gave him a distinguished look when paired with the lab coat. He was almost tempted to compare the man to Blaine, which wouldn't be fair. One was an actual distinguished professor while the other lived like an enlightened hermit on an isolated island.

  Red looked as though his entire day had been ruined when Lane caught his eye. A wink. A glare.

  Professor Oak was brimming with energy as he bounced the pokédex between hands like a hot potato. All the papers that had piled up on the desk were neatly arranged and put away—carelessness led to lost documents and frustration—so he could access the keyboard to his computer. A wire connected the two, opening a litany of applications only used by high-tier nerds. Neither of the boys attempted making conversation as the professor went about clicking little gray boxes with numbers on them.

  "So what's up, doc? This pokédex thing seems important but what're you doing to it?" he asked, more out of boredom than curiosity.

  Professor Oak perked up just a bit more at the question. "The pokédex has a feature that I didn't exactly advertise since it's only becoming a reality right now: access to an online database for every pokémon that we know of. It'll be updated with new information and keep everyone's pokédex up to our current best understanding, so that even offline you can make use of the scanning function. Due to memory constraints we weren't able to include every feature we wanted, which I'm hoping we can solve with further tweaking, but this was so essential that we’d made sure that it could be included."

  Red nearly choked on his saliva. Lane just shrugged to pretend that he was somewhat impressed. "That's gonna be a big deal."

  "It will be," Professor Oak said confidently. "Regions have long been locked out of information from each other, and even within regions it's very hard to find reliable information on pokémon that aren't seen from day to day. Do either of you know what Ghastly tend to do? Many don't know that there's evolutions for common pokémon. This will go a long way in educating everyone, trainers and non-trainers alike, on how to deal with wild pokémon they've never seen before."

  The professor's voice became more fervent the more that he talked about it. No matter how gray his hair was, the youthful passion had Lane bouncing on his heels too.

  "You sound so excited that I can't wait for this to be finished too!" Lane exclaimed.

  Oak managed to flash back a smile without his typing pace slowing a single character.

  "This was a team project. Though it was my vision to realize, I couldn't have done it without Red, Blue, and all my assistants who are working here. It was through their efforts that we will have the first public version of the pokédex released once we integrate this data with the information that we already had on these pokémon. And, I still can't believe it, we have two confirmed data entries for the Winged Mirages after all this time! Confirmed sightings! Thank you, Red, for making his pokédex as complete as we possibly could!" Professor Oak said, even more excited than before.

  "Thank you for giving me the chance. It really made me think about why I was a trainer. I wouldn't have thought about looking for so many pokémon otherwise," Red said, slightly bashful.

  "You're welcome, and I'll say thank you again. It's all of you who I'm thanking! With just a little more work we will revolutionize the world!"

  Weak cheers came from the other scientists.

  Lane got bored watching a cursor click buttons that did things he didn't know. Sitting inside a cylinder, rebuffing jealous gazes, were pokéballs sitting in plush pillows. Little sticky notes on the side confirmed that they were starters, little scrawls of the trainers who were slated to receive them. A table with empty pokéballs was barren of anything except notes on various pokémon around the region. A closer look and sharp mind would realize that the normal notes based on current knowledge were written in black while the corrections that the scientists had found were written in red; Lane couldn't keep his eyes still and he rarely wanted to use his mind. Behind the lab was a small field that led to a much larger property where all the pokémon were kept. Glancing out the window on the back wall would allow him to see a Weezing sticking out the front of a Grimer.

  The computer completed the transfer with a happy ding. Professor Oak pushed away from the desk and handed the pokédex to Red.

  "Thank you for everything, Red. Now go on. You've got a Champion's position to win."

  Red tipped his hat down and walked out. Before Lane could follow, he was stopped by a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  "I believe that we have some things to talk about."

  Lane acquiesced with a shrug. "Sure. What's on your mind?"

  "I've heard a little about you. We're quite a traditional region, so it's not often that you see modern technology used often. It's why the League still hasn't made it standard to use computers for all our work." Professor Oak gained a wistful tone as he stared at nothing. "So many wasted hours that could've been cut down if we went digital."

  "That sucks, man."

  Oak was taken into another world of letters, of progress reports towards League-funded projects, of hours that he spent away from the work that he was truly passionate about. Decades ago he'd been complaining as much as anybody else about the aches that came with doing that much extra writing. Age and repetition had dulled the hatred into routine. Yet thinking about all the time that he could've saved sending reports through emails rather than the Slowpoke service was enough to nearly make him cry.

  "We're used to it. The point that I'm trying to make is that communication between League members is more sparse compared to other regions. We're behind on some things, but well enough that we can still talk around. Blaine said you had a great mind for riddles. Erika said you were a pleasant personality from what she knew of you." That was a bit of a white lie since her exact words were saying that Lane thought himself a comedian, but Oak wasn't about to start a teenager war. "I believe that your stunt in Fuschia has given you the position of town pariah."

  Before Lane could make a sarcastic remark, he sneezed. Waving off the professor's concern, he said, "ah! That's the consequences of sticking around an ice cave for a few hours. You were saying?"

  "My point is that you seem to be a fine lad and a fine trainer who's friendly enough that you'll talk with others during your journey. That's not universal! Many slide by towns with only their teams as their friends, not remembering the human side of this world we share. You're also one of the only foreigners who currently knows of the pokédex's existence. In light of this being completed soon, I'd like for you to have one of your own."

  The machine traded hands. Lane hefted it around. The build was slightly clunky. Its red, plastic surface was a bit too big for his hands when the keyboard part unfolded. The buttons to scroll through the interface were a bit too clunky and unconventional. Still, he was holding a piece of history in his hands. It was slid into his bag.

  "Thanks. This'll be helpful," Lane lied.

  "Let me explain in a little more detail: many complications already exist, such as the issue with distant regions connecting with a database that we're currently only hosting here, but we've managed to finagle a solution so that they aren't completely out to dry while we work on a permanent solution. Along with that is an advanced AI that can recognize pokémon through the camera. Its ability isn't to be underestimated, as we've worked on it for years at this point and are holding it past our original deadline to fine tune the problems. Does this sound impressive?"

  Technology that bordered on magic and AI when he'd seen more horseshoe poles than computers. Impressive was a word that could be used interchangeably with nonsensical and more insulting words that Lane didn't have the vocabulary to say.

  "Sure."

  "And that if the effects weren't useful, then at the very least the individual parts like the AI are?"

  "Yeah."

  "And have you heard a single person excited that it's coming out?" Oak asked.

  Would normal people be excited about a new GPU releasing on the market? Cool, for the hyper-niche audience that'd know about it, whereas others wouldn't know that the GPU has a pluggy bit that goes into the computer with the other pluggy bit.

  This time Oak didn't wait for an answer. "What we're focused on at the moment is exposure. We need people willing to spread the word outside of science circles."

  "You want me to be a walking advertisement," Lane said wryly.

  "Essentially, yes. At the moment, nobody except those in the academic world truly know the capabilities of the pokédex. If you could use it often enough that curiosity spreads, then I'll be grateful."

  "You got it. It'll be a worldwide sensation if I've got anything to say about it." Without further stalling, Lane ran off. "Thanks for the thingie! I've got to catch up with Red!"

  The last words of the professor were drowned out as he ran out the door. To his surprise, Red was standing in front of the lab. His hands were casually hanging at his sides. The entirety of Pallet Town could be seen behind him. A rush of air rustled through their hair. The whole scene had Lane chuckling.

  "I can beat you now," Red said.

  It took a bit before Lane swallowed the last bits of humor.

  "Meaning you want to fight," Lane said.

  "Yes."

  Red reached for his pokéballs. Lane called it off with a single wave of his hand.

  "You don't have to battle. Look at us, Red. You had already surpassed me during our last fight. If you stuck with it, I wouldn't have won."

  Red didn't like that answer, a genuine frown splitting his face as if that were the worst news he'd ever been given.

  "Are you sad we're—" Lane's sentence was ripped by a heavy sneeze. He ignored the look and continued, sniffling, "that we're no longer gonna be traveling together?"

  "No. I'm sad because I feel cheated out of a fight," he said.

  Lane laughed again. "Go whet your appetite on the Elite Four instead! They're waiting for you! I'm sure that beating all of them will be more exciting than beating a trainer with only three pokémon. But before you go, want some last bits of advice? Since I won't be going to Victory Road with you, you can consider this a parting gift from yours truly."

  Red intensely stared at the person in front of him. He wanted to say something that encapsulated all his feelings from wasting his time down in Fuschia, filling the silence with annoying conversation that even Lane didn't care about. And then to take more help! With a team that he'd trained from the ground up strapped to his side, Red had fought against legendary pokémon without instantly losing. He was beyond accepting help from two-bit trainers that were around the five badge level. He wanted to be proud.

  It had to slide out through his clenching throat and shuddering teeth.

  "Tell me."

  Lane, not understanding the internal dilemma at all, laughed. It was meant to show how casual he was. It dug in the ignominy deeper.

  "I've got a few for you: your little Pikachu looked like he was going to blow his top off last time I saw him. I think that he's been holding back his evolution for a while. Either get that sorted out or buy yourself an eviolite. Next, uh, you can evolve your Eevee into something or hold onto it until the pokémon evolves by itself. There'll be a little surprise if you do that. Your team ain't too good against steel and poison-types, but it's not like Eevee's going to get ground-type coverage either way. And if you're looking to see rare pokémon then there's another guy who you might want to meet. I'd search around Victory Road for a while to find him before going off to become champion, hero. You'll instantly know what I'm talking about when you see it."

  It was meant to be a last info dump before the end. Red took the initiative by poking out across the forests and mountains.

  "Do you know what's the deal with the pink pokémon that's over in the cave next to Cerulean? I'm not sure exactly what it was. The pokédex and Professor Oak didn't know either," Red said.

  Or Oak was lying for some reason, Lane thought to himself. Or he genuinely didn't know. Or some secret third thing. He didn't pretend to be an expert with his unreliable memories.

  "If you're not meant to know, then you're not meant to know. Try asking Professor Oak again once you're champion." Lane shuffled, looking around warily, trying to speak as fast as he could. When he was fully sure there weren’t any witnesses, he said it, quietly, hissing, quickly, humbly. "I'm sorry. Not gonna say what I'm sorry for. Go get your Champion's spot, hero! I'm rooting for you!"

  As he said that, he ran off in some direction that wasn't exactly the route and just outside the town. Bewildered, Red watched as the thorn in his side left, hopefully for the final time. Not for the final time. But you never knew what would be the final time.

  Nearby, Lane nervously hid behind a tree, letting the newfound freedom sink in. He made sure that he couldn't see the reaction to his apology and just wanted to shut the book on that era of his life. His mind ran through the checklists. All the towns he was interested in were visited. Stupid things had been done aplenty. The whole Team Rocket debacle was about to be solved, kinda. It felt like Kanto was done. There was the whole tournament that was coming soon, but knowing the result really took all the excitement out of it—as if he liked watching fights anyways.

  There were a few loose ends that he wanted to tie up. One of them was leaving an actual bomb in Fuschia just to mess with Koga before deeming that too stupid. Another was finding Marley again to mess with her. Then came the issue of money that he'd been putting off for a long while: traveling wasn't cheap! The care package that had been left at home was mostly gone, spent on the relatively meagre supplies he needed to survive. Basically only food and clothes were purchased yet his pockets still ran dry.

  The checklist was divided and conquered by how far each location was. He summoned Lulu. She started stretching while he talked.

  "And that's that. You feel like Kanto was boring? I almost feel like we should've skipped it for Johto." When she gave no opinion, he just grinned to the air. "You're right. Having an OG pokédex is pretty cool, and I got a chance to see the Red himself. But where to go? Where to go? Hm hm hm~."

  When the humming descended into whistling, she smacked his legs until he stopped. The first thing to do, after an entire month of nothing, was to relax, lay on one of the hills with all of his pokémon enjoying the skywatching. He personally didn't see much appeal, but Fomantis loved the sun and Lulu absolutely loved pointing out clouds to her kid. Dunsparce seemed to have blissed out the most as he laid uncurled on the grass. When the afternoon was over he recalled everyone except Lulu and walked off route.

  Pallet Town had a certain rustic charm only replicated by being isolated from the rest of the region on the end of a peninsula, then being further divided from the heart of Johto by a mountain range, then being relatively richer as an unimportant blip on a map because of the important people that lived in the area, then making Lane recognize that he'd added so many determining factors that it literally couldn't be replicated anywhere else; and certainly it'd never happen again with a literal force of good, jolly scientists, living across from the force of evil, a gym leader with dubious motivations. Hills rolled through the entire area that easily hid the few buildings that made up the sleepy town. Being off route wasn't comparable to the forests that had continuously tried eating him whole. Herds of docile pokémon would warily watch the pair as they walked, long gone when they approached. Good weather and the fields of flowers made them walk at a sedate pace, taking an entire day before finding the coastline. Then it was a matter of traveling up at the border where the grass was substituted with plants of thicker leaves, mulchy dirt with gray earth that clumped up when you stuck your hand in it.

  By the second day he was looking for a secondary transport. Roughing it on terrain that would only become flat-ish became tiring. Hooting at pokémon didn't work. Waving them down didn't either. Sticking out his thumb turned out not to be a universal gesture either.

  So he chose the normal option of calling them when there was a good distance delineating 'my territory' from 'your territory'. Lulu was behind his leg instead of menacingly staring at them with her widdle pink eyes, and oran berries were presented to whoever he was yelling to. Unsurprisingly, this mostly didn't work and led to short fights with pokémon trying to take the berries for themselves. Going off-route made the pokémon nearly strong enough to take a simple, single smack from the back of Lulu's bladed limb, as this was a true paradise, where low-level trainers could make a mistake without getting torn apart by the limbs.

  It was a trio of Tauros who finally stopped a wary distance away from the pair. Lane tried offsetting Lulu's tense posture with a disarming smile and arms spread wide. Was that meant for intimidation? He couldn't remember. Did oxen (oxes? Oxelopes?) not like when teeth were bared? Definitely didn't remember that either.

  "Hey, we need a ride up north. If any of you are up to it, then there's a lot more berries in it for you." He pressed his hands together, letting the berries roll inside his palms. "Please? You can choose the pace if it's that much of an issue. I'm just sooo tired of walking."

  With a huff of breath through its nose, the largest Tauros lowered down until it was only slightly awkward to climb on. His little arms still struggled to reach for something he could grab, and wrapping his leg around its back ended up making him feel like he was straddling a car. Lulu refused to go back into her ball and ended up in front of him. Her little blades were lightly curled on his arms that were gripping the bull pokémon's fur. Unexpectedly soft for being mud brown. Wary glances at the sharp horns made him see the scratches that originated from the tip and traveled down to the base, sharp disjunctions made of a pale yellow.

  Little time was given for them to readjust before the Tauros took off into a sprint. Bouncing up and down made streaks of light a permanent fixture on his vision. The blurring of the world got better while his legs got worse with every bound. It never looked like riding was very active. Riders were just bouncing on their saddles while the animals pumped their limbs into a furious sprint, muscles unburdened by clothing, revealing every flex that went into their run. Not having a saddle turned out not to be anymore 'natural', or at least smart, as his butt started sliding from the first bound. It was a constant effort keeping himself centered rather than falling onto the horns or falling backwards into the threshing hooves of its herdmates. That meant his grip was constantly pulling on the Tauros' fluffy mane, making his knuckles start protesting within the hour.

  Far past the point of no return when the mountains started coming into view, his legs started hurting. That made sense. They were pounding against the animal's side. What didn't make sense was when his bent back started hurting—he was a teenager, for goodness sakes!—which was quickly followed by his hips of all things. When his chest joined in the cacophony, he resolved himself to send flowers to the professional riders. How any of that made sense could only be understood by muscle-ologists. Every so often one of the three tails would whip against his back, every time getting a squeak in response. A ranger in the distance watched as he rode by. Sucking up the pain and risking falling off was completely worth waving at the bewildered look.

  They’d made it to the northernmost point of the plains by the day's end. The Tauros left happy with an entire bag of oran berries while he tried not collapsing into sludge. Their journey wasn't over, but it had cut such a burdensome part that he had no choice but to be thankful.

  From the time of leaving Pallet Town, it took three days for them to make it to Cerulean City. He paid for his stuff with the last of his money, acted polite-like, and got a ride across the tiny lake north of town by making conversation with an older trainer. Being a nice kid wasn't too hard, but Lane could admit that acting cheeky got him into more fun situations. What point was there to being a trainer and not having fun? That was the exact thought process that led to him burying a sign in front of the Cerulean Cave. Some of the last of his pocket change turned wooden.

  Cerulean Cave was renamed 'Lover's Cove' in a terminology change that hadn't been tracked down to a single person. The older folk in Cerulean claimed that one day a sign appeared dug in next to the entrance without an indication that it was a prank or anything with ill-intent. It was so close to the romantic coastline at the end of Route 25 that the name was wholly accepted by the teens. It became the edgier spot for couples, those that were confident enough in their abilities to stand within the entrance's breath. Nearly everyone knew that going into the cave was tantamount to suicide and thus dared each other to walk past the entrance of inflated gray balls of popcorn laying around the gaping opening. Not much else came from it other than plenty of spooky stories; apparently even the dumbest, most hormonally addled teenagers had enough sense not to venture too far into the cave that had spiraling teeth gaping back at you. Whatever good rep that young people gained was immediately ruined the month later, as a trend had passed around that dipping a little paralysis heal into your soda gave it an extra kick.

  It was a brilliant wordplay on his part that for some reason didn't similarly wow Lurantis. She had concerns about 'people taking it wrong' and 'accidentally leading people to their death' far into the future—boring things like that, which he could not infer and thought her chittering was out of approval. For yet another time she wished that her trainer could understand her, even if her concerns against his bad ideas would be brushed aside anyways.

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  These bad ideas included entering the cave. She couldn't do much except stick to her trainer's side as they sidled past the engorged rocks.

  For once he gave the situation its full respect as Dunsparce came out as insurance. He knew that the cave was dangerous, and knew that coming during the witching hour was probably not a great idea either. An inflatable float that had cost the actual last of his money bounced against the still water, experimentally nudged forward with his toe before he boarded. Was it dangerous since there could be pokémon lying in wait for prey to touch the water? Yes. But technically it was already suicidal for him to be inside the cave in the first place, so taking additional risks wouldn't be too bad. What was past suicidal—super-suicidal?

  Lulu took the other side as they paddled with their bare limbs. As they floated deeper inside, he held the can of repel closer. There was a list of disclaimers in small print that lined the entire backside. It wasn't because the company was trying to squirm out of people understanding their product but rather there were so many disclaimers and rules on proper use that it needed to be fit. It became a mini-essay that most people never bothered to read, and it was a mini-essay that he could barely read in the dim lighting of his pokédex shining in their raft's center. Technically that made them a bigger target since they were a literal sun in the vastness infinitude of a cave. Past super-suicidal became megalo-suicidal.

  "Could make pokémon more aggressive if they're used to the smell, have a certain personality, or are a certain species. And then it says that I can accidentally damage your guys' noses if I use it too much. What does this word even mean? Ol-factory? Am I pronouncing that right?"

  The raft bounced against the edge of the pond. It was a pain deflating it for every use, but Lane wasn't about to climb onto his cowardly pokémon's back hoping that it would swim.

  Deeper parts of the cave had crystals growing, first in the natural way that he recognized as the flaky bits that collected together like snowflakes, becoming more geometrical. Crystals either lit up or reflected a light source that he couldn't discern. They seemed to be getting brighter the longer he traveled, as if the core were waiting within a tepid afternoon's run. Far inside was a platform surrounded by a wall of crystals. This part was fully lit up, the unknown light source near with an amphitheater's lights. Wreathed in green was a bedraggled girl, looking as if she climbed in every hovel that had been presented to her along the way. The thick mat of hair provided a cape that hung over her shoulders and made her seem warmer than his own bare forearms. She was looking into the crystals, just as confused as Lane.

  "Hello, valued customer," Lane greeted.

  Green turned around, throwing a pokéball. Lane was barely able to duck underneath it. It scared off an Arbok that was getting too curious.

  "Oh! It's you, shorty." Green's expression lightened up from the menacing frown that she had—and it was menacing. Lane personally thought she was the most intimidating girl he's ever met. "Sorry about the confusion. Thought you were a pokémon since it's so dark in here."

  The light made a person perfectly able to see the walls around them. Lane could outline the dimples on Green's face. He glanced down at the can of repel and could easily read it.

  "Do I look like a pokémon?"

  "You're short enough to be a Chansey."

  "That's ridiculous. I'm not nearly fat enough." To emphasize, Lane held out his arms to mimic how big they are. "You see this? I'm nowhere near this!"

  Green nodded along. Some atmosphere shift made the pendulum swing. "Y'know, it's weird how you just happened to run into me two times. Do we have some kind of bond? A red string of fate? Something...?"

  "If the red is more like blood, then we do. You're not really going to fight me again here. I'm on a schedule and it's, uh, a little dangerous,” Lane said, feeling lame with how nervous he was genuinely becoming.

  "Of course not!" Green said, holding a hand against her chest. "I'd never do something like that. That would be harming somebody who I'm relying on to get a powerful foreign pokémon. I'm just pointing out that you're obviously stalking me and it's very flattering."

  "Flattering? I'm a ten year old or some odds. The only flattering thing I can do is give my mom chocolates for her birthday," Lane said.

  "Really? You look more like a fifteen year old."

  Something thumped. Both trainers stopped their banter and stood at attention, Lane's hand instinctively reaching for a pokéball even though both his fighting partners were already released. Whatever made the sound realized that it was being watched and hissed as it slithered into the pitch black. Green took longer to relax, glancing at the dark drapes laying behind the jade walls.

  "Anyways, I've been looking for a rare pokémon here. Know where he is?" she asked.

  With absolutely no sympathy nor need for clarification, Lane gave a shrug. "Scared off if you haven't found him. The current champion has cleaned house on this entire region of anything you're thinking of. Wait, that's wrong. He's about to become the champion. The legendary part isn't wrong. He totally has scared them all off. Sorry."

  Green looked like her heart was crushed. "Aw, man! You're saying that every single rare pokémon in the region has been caught by a single guy? How is that fair?"

  "Not caught. And it isn't, really. I beat him in a battle and within a single month he got strong enough to fight against giant birds and uh," he wanted to clarify what happened with Mewtwo, but Red was so vague that he didn't know how to answer that, "whatever happened with Mewtwo. It's not fair at all."

  They nodded in companionable silence, the silence of being surpassed.

  "Then I don't need all this stuff. What a waste of time," Green said.

  Valuable items that most wouldn't see in their entire lives dropped from her bag like waste. Lane watched as she casually got rid of things that would most likely send a pokémon professor to the moon if they found out about their existence. He decided that showing interest in them in front of Green would most likely cause him to be another tally to the lives the cave has claimed, so he kept his eyes locked above the 'man line', an invisible line that he thought men were supposed to look above, else they were perving or floor-staring morose people. The reaction at seeing one of her bracelets being replaced couldn't be fully suppressed, as his eyes nearly bugged out from his skull. Inside a silver bracelet was a tiny stone that most wouldn't recognize.

  She caught where he was staring and frowned. "You even know what this is, don't you? You're one dangerous kid."

  "I should say the same thing about you. I'm not even sure where you can get a mega stone in Kanto of all places. And you're the one who used a master ball to catch a Ninetales. I don't think you can be calling other people scary," Lane said.

  "She was a Vulpix when I caught her!"

  "...that's even worse."

  Green made sure to properly show how offended she was by walking up and poking her finger into his chest. "Look, bud. Let's cut to the chase. As much as I like being in dank, dark places in my free time, this cave has been wearing on my nerves. I haven't even seen another human being in a week and then you come in to tell me that the Champion has stolen the pokémon I want. You came to the cave for a reason and if you're telling the truth, then it's not for Mewtwo. Are you actually stalking me?"

  The terrifying visage had slipped back on. Lulu prepared to strike from behind if the girl made any threatening moves towards her trainer while Dunsparce managed to dredge up a rock the perfect size to replace her head.

  His arms crossed behind his back to try to present himself as innocent. "Of course not. I don't have the capability to stalk people yet. I've heard a rumor on the grapevine that there's something interesting in this cave. It's kind of my thing to be looking for stuff like that."

  She seemed to take the answer by its face value and backed off. Lane let out a breath of relief as the silly Green came back. Categorization kicked in. There were three Greens: silly, scary and battle. The only problem was the whiplash between them made him wonder if she needed to be diagnosed.

  "You'd be disappointed. Of course there's rumors about this place having something cool, 'cause it's the strongest area that the weak trainers can see. It's not like they're wrong, but they weren't right enough. Mega stones for pokémon I don't have and whatever this is," Green said, kicking the vial on the ground.

  A green liquid inside of the glass sloshed around as it rolled down the floor. Inside was something more valuable than all the gold in the world. Probably. He wasn't entirely clear on the details.

  Despite the girl's face falling to a level where she was genuinely morose, he couldn't bring himself to pretend that he was empathizing with her. She was violent and unpredictable. If Red was lying, then Lane would've walked into an angry legendary's arms; and if the pokémon actually had come back at some point and fallen to Green, then he'd be walking into a baby armed with a nuke. Mewtwo either way would've wiped him off the face of the planet.

  "Thought I might as well check it out. I'm a historian, after all."

  "A historian?" Green asked.

  "I make history. We're making history right now," Lane said.

  The joke took a second before it was untangled from the calcium in her head. She started laughing. Green laughed so hard that she bent down, clutching her stomach. Lane knew that he was the funniest guy in a room at any given time but it still seemed excessive. "That's right! We're both historians because we've made the discovery of our lifetimes! That there's ab-so-lutely nothing here!"

  He brought out the pokédex and pretended to use it for something. There weren't any pokémon in the area so all that he did was press buttons randomly. Already he saw the deficiencies that the machine had, little UI quirks like having to back out and reenter an adjacent pokémon's page. There wasn't even a notes tab! Those features were repeated in his head to make sure to bring those up next time he saw Professor Oak.

  "You said that there's nothing else here, so no reason to hang around. Want to head back?” he asked.

  "I was hoping that Mewtwo was just shy and would come if he got used to me. Ugh. I feel stupid now that somebody else came and stole my thunder. That's supposed to be what I do. I should go and teach that jerk a lesson." She was about to squeeze past before realizing that he had something in his hands. "What's that?"

  "Oh, this? It's a pokédex. Some new device that has all the pokémon that we know about registered in it." Lane double-checked and grimaced when he realized that all the typings weren't added into it. The good samaritan flared up again, thinking that he should talk about that too. "It's got everything. Their typing, the moves they learn, shows what abilities they have, their stats—er, nevermind 'bout that last one, and the second to last one."

  "What!? That sounds super useful!"

  "It is," Lane said. "Walk and talk. I'm sick of being down here too."

  Lane gestured to his pokémon. Both of them started shoving the vial and mega stones into a bag that he'd given Lulu. That was the main reason he came, after all.

  "So why are you visiting all these places?" Green asked, lips reaching out to take a sip of her milkshake. Mint. Her favorite flavor. Lane personally thought that a milkshake outside of the three flavors (vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry) was an affront to mankind and sensibility, but was unwilling to start a fight. The girl had a mega stone. She'd surpassed him the second that she scrounged up the ring.

  His own flavor that made sense, vanilla, was good enough that Lurantis had started bugging him for another one. He ignored the desperate prodding. She already drank through her entire glass.

  "Curiosity mostly, since I've got a strong trainer who's coming along that lets me be a little more foolhardy, and trying to find a girl. I want to seem like I wasn't purposely trying to find them, so we're trying to act casual. The real question is why you're stalking me now," Lane said.

  "Am I not wanted?" she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

  Lurantis gave the girl a side-eye before continuing to morosely look into her glass. She started licking the sides of it to get as much sugar as she could.

  "Nah, I don't care either way. Just weird that I'm the one who's being stalked now. That's, like, backwards. I'm supposed to be the funny hanger-on that you just can't get rid of while you're—I'm not sure what you do."

  "If you really want to know, then I'm hoping that you'd take me to Professor Oak's and put in a good word for me," Green said. She pressed her palms together and started bowing. "Please, please, please, Lane-san! I want a pokédex! I really want a pokédex!"

  A shudder passed. Something irregular. Something unwanted. Something that he absolutely needed to stamp down.

  "Okay, first, you need to never call me that again. Second, only if you tell me why you seem to be afraid of the professor of all people," Lane said. Green turned into paper that slid underneath the table, as if the professor was watching them at that moment.

  Two sides of Kanto existed: barren rurality that forced a methodical pace, everything squeezed through a thin tube of toothpaste, and supercities that were projected to become the most populated in the entire world. Vermillion was in the former category, with its traditional houses and construction that took months since only a single team did all the construction. The ice cream place served every dessert known to Kanto in a valiant compression. Tables being set out next to the cobbled street afforded them a view over the ocean, which wasn't too special considering that most of the buildings were built within a few minute's walk from the coastline. Lane was also getting sick of seeing the giant body of water. Spending a few weeks on Cinnabar had really taken all the enchantment out of it. The pink tables that had metal legs fashioned as if they were plants growing out of the ground were far more interesting.

  "So you think that she's gonna be here?"

  A clear way to dodge the conversation. He let it go. Too much effort doing something that may just make the other person mad.

  "I have no way of knowing. She just said that she was visiting the area, and the last time that I met her she spent most of her time diving. She could be literally anywhere. She could also be lying and be in, I don't know, Fuschia." He finally relented and slid the shake into Lulu's waiting arms. They weren't that good. "Hope she ain't over there. They've kind of got a grudge with me."

  She rose from the slump in a flash, holding both her elbows on the table. "What'd you do?"

  "Made them arrest town heroes 'cause it turned out that they were Team Rocket." A realization made him smirk. "I've also gotten more from there arrested since then. Soon enough I'll have half the town in jail."

  "Excuse me."

  Someone had snuck up on them. It was a girl younger than their ages with eyes like she'd snorted catnip. They didn't flick around. He could trace as they slowly sailed along to gently becoming beached; that pattern was even more prominent when they'd flick between the two of them as a train on a schedule. A sketchbook that was nearly the size of her torso hung loosely in her grip. The overalls, holes ripped from use rather than style, didn't do any good at catching the paint that she worked with as each body part had at least one splatter. Lane almost believed that she was the canvas with how many streaks of color were scarred across her body. Meshes of chemicals were mingled into her hair.

  Gym leaders, or your region's equivalent, were super celebrities that transcended the fields that they touched. Whether politician, trainer, or a profession past that, a gym leader's presence preceded them and amplified their already strange personalities, because it was insane for a person to willingly continue training pokémon on top of other obligations.

  "S'up?" Green greeted. The realization came, making her milkshake shake so hard that a little had tipped onto the table when she tried leaning over it. One hand slammed the base of the glass down while the other hid her mouth from the new arrival. She whispered, "is this the girl?'

  The renaissance men usually only had pull within their own regions though. "No, she's not the girl that we're stalking."

  "You like to throw that word out a lot…"

  The girl wasn't bothered by any of their actions. Her hand rose slowly, like everything else she did. Lane was reminded of a horrible movie that threw slow-mo everywhere.

  "Mina. Painter."

  Green took her hand enthusiastically. Despite the hardy shaking, neither were gripping the other very hard. "Green! Uh, trainer!"

  "Lane. Historian."

  "Names. Good." Mina gestured over to the crowd inside the dessert shop. "Not interested in the Championship battle?"

  On the screen was a familiar Charizard ripping through the air much faster even back during the last gym fight he'd seen, effortlessly weaving between the beams of light that were blasting from the ground. It was an image so incredible that it had to be shown everywhere. Across from the shop had a person drag their television out to their window so that everybody gathered at the patio could see the fight. Cheers resounded whenever the Elite Four member scored a hit—home field advantage. Through the entire town was a unified ruckus whenever either trainer made a play that tilted the battle in their favor, whether that be cheers or boos. The cameras struggled to take in the entire battlefield since both pokémon constantly shifted it to their own advantage, though most didn't care much about the specifics. Those too busy working tuned into the radio to keep on track.

  "I hate him. He stole my pokémon," Green said bitterly. Charizard had to back off from his assault to avoid a thunderbolt. The clerk had stopped mid scoop so he could watch. The mom, with a blonde bob, didn't bother criticizing the teen as she was also enraptured. "Look at that. He has some of the strongest pokémon in the world and this is how he uses them. What a waste! This would've already been wrapped up if he sent out Mewtwo. Does he even have a mega stone? Arrgh! He makes me mad and I've never even met him!"

  Lane interrupted before Green could really get into a rant. "He hates me. Plus I already know he's going to win, so I don't really care about watching the battles. All that stuff about strength is so whatever to me. Hold on. Lulu! Get over here."

  Lurantis dropped the glass to reveal a beard of ice cream around her mouth. Lane dipped the napkin into Green's glass of water and gently dabbed.

  "You two seem confident that he's going to win," Mina said.

  "Psh, you see that? He's strong enough that I'd be wary of him even with all the tricks up my sleeves," Green said.

  "He's pretty much been destined for championship since I'd first seen him." Lane turned the napkin to its dry side so excess moisture wouldn't do plant-things to her mouth. He's pretty sure that's a problem. "Now what're you here for, Ms. Trial Captain?"

  Her eyebrow rose. "Guessed that you were from Alola with a pokémon like that. I'm not a trial captain yet."

  "You wouldn't find me on any government databases if you looked," Lane said. Lurantis rolled her eyes when he said that, getting an aggressive pat on the head in retaliation.

  "That sounds shady," she said.

  Green waved her hand between the two. "Hello? Person that isn't worldly over here? What's a trial captain?"

  "Think gym leader except for Alola. They want to be special so they didn't go into the whole gym business fully. The way that they handle the whole thing is different." Lane stopped fussing over his pokémon, though he slid the glass away from her. "I'm not from there, by the by. I'm way more mysterious than that. No background at all, like a ghost."

  "It's a little more complicated than that, but the gist is close enough. I was just curious about you two. You kind of stick out with your foreign pokémon and lack of interest in the championship battle,” Mina said.

  "I have half the mind to go there and stop the whole thing myself. No wait! I can come in immediately after and take the Champion's seat myself. There! Show him what it feels like to lose all the progress that you've been working towards," Green mumbled to herself.

  Mina continued speaking without showing any indication she’d heard. "Thought it'd be a good way to pass the time. The ocean here is so beautiful that I couldn't stop looking at it. It's just a unique color. But I was so distracted that the cruise ship took off without me. How rude is that?'

  "Super."

  "Practically evil."

  "Right? So now I'm waiting for the next one."

  "Were you here on business?" Lane asked.

  "I was painting the ocean back home but I felt like the scene needed something extra. So I went to my daddy's books and got a reference of how Lapras looks. But then I wondered how Kanto looked so I got a ticket and came over. And when I got here, well, I forgot why I was even here in the first place, but that didn't matter 'cause there were so many different things that I could paint. So I was walking around the entire region getting stuff to paint and selling it so I could get more paint supplies 'cause I only brought enough for a few paintings and wasn't expecting to make the amount that I did. I did a bunch of paintings. One of the mountains, two of the mountains actually, the ocean, three of the ocean actually, the sky, the cities that I visited, some portraits of pokémon, and probably a few others that I forgot about. I like painting a lot but some of them have way more work than the others, but I want to remember the paintings that did in a short time too since there's usually stuff that I could learn from them, so I have a journal that documents all the different paintings that I've done with their names and what the subject was about. Usually that's enough to jog my memory but my luggage was also on the cruise ship so I can't show it to you, but if I could there'd be a whole lot of paintings in it, so I needed to get another notebook for the Kanto paintings that I've painted and I could show you that instead but it only has the paintings that I've done here. I've saved a few but not very many, and they're on the cruise ship. I wasn't intending on any of them to be my better stuff. Oh, I mean that paintings that I spend a long time on I like to hang in my gallery back home before selling them—if I ever sell them. I think I sold them now that I think about it." She turned around to appreciate the scenery again. "The ocean is pretty."

  A familiar device slipped out of Lane's pocket into his hand. He made sure to clearly be fiddling with it as he double-checked the helpful entry on type matchups and grimaced. There were some resistances left out. That could lead to really bad situations.

  Green watched, now knowing that he'd been hired to advertise it, trying to see what secrets the master salesman had.

  "What's that?" Mina asked.

  He glanced at Green, who wasn't even hiding how shocked she was. The entire trip he was practically shoving it into everyone's faces and it was working! She considered getting into sales later in her life if it were really that easy. Lie—check. And be obnoxious—check. She thought herself too young to know the skills, yet Lane looked younger than her while also having the skills.

  They had a lot of eerie similarities, when she thought deeper about it. Both looked wild. Both were awesome. Both knew things. She wondered if Lane was a long lost brother. Or clone! Clones were cooler. Mewtwo was a clone.

  "It's a pokédex. It has entries on every pokémon in Kanto. Stuff like who they can breed with, their tracks, practical things. You can look them up and everything," he said.

  She leaned down to get a better look at the screen, shoving her head right next to his. "Wow. That's in-depth."

  "Right? They're talking about getting the pokémon of other regions added into it. I was asked if I could scan ones that I see too. Hey, do you have your team? What if we do a few battles so I can scan them?"

  Green slammed the table, standing up with a manic grin. "That sounds awesome! I got annoyed seeing the thief, so I need to work off this tension."

  "Sure. I only train fairy-types, so be prepared."

  "What's a fairy-type?"

  Mina blinked once. Normally, a person who was processing information they couldn't believe would take a moment to themselves as their brain tried producing a response for a situation they couldn't believe. Mina was not normal. So when she blinked, it became a long-suffering silence where Green was left confused.

  Mina's finger rose in the air. "Oh, right. Kanto doesn't know about fairy-types. Forgot about that. Uh, a fairy-type is a type."

  "So, what is it? Happy? Cute?" Green waved her arms around. "And how come there aren't any here?"

  "There are. Wigglytuff is a fairy-type," Mina said. Like it was fact.

  "No it isn't. It's a normal-type," Green said. Like it was fact.

  "No, it isn't. It's a fairy-type," Lane said. Cheekily.

  Green crossed her arms. "If Wigglytuff was a fairy-type, then we'd know. No way."

  Mina didn't cross her arms. "Not sure why Kanto hasn't recognized them."

  "That's because nobody on this continent recognizes fairy-types," Lane said casually. He smirked when her pupils went to the side of her eyes, then entire head moved until she could bring him to the center of her vision. "It's true. I don't blame them. When would you ever think to bring out a Wigglytuff against a dragon?"

  "I do it all the time," Mina mumbled.

  "You two are messin' with me. There's no such thing as fairy-types," Green said.

  "Yes there is," Mina said.

  "No there isn't!"

  "Yes there is."

  "No there isn't!"

  As they argued, Green was the only one getting progressively louder while Mina kept the same lazy tone. Lulu tried sneaking the little bit of milkshake that Green had left while the table was distracted.

  Their shouting started overtaking the nearby programs of the Championship battle. Annoyed glances were thrown at the teenage girl who was shrieking at the top of her lungs. An air raid siren, begging for attention. It wasn't assumed that Green was genuinely getting mad and wanted to rip into Mina's team. It was inevitable that somebody would investigate, if only to tell the girls to shut up. It was also likely that a person predisposed towards walking into conflict would be the first to do so.

  "Excuse me, but did you know that everyone in town can hear you?"

  "What!?" Green screeched at the same volume.

  Lane already was grinning from ear to ear while Green's chest was heaving. He yanked on her sleeve. "Green, Green! You're a genius!"

  That made her confused enough that the wild eyes of a predator snapped to Lane. "What?"

  "You attracted big sis over with your embarrassing screaming match! Good job!"

  In Marley's defense, Lane wasn't very recognizable. A shrub of brown hair and a cute face that hadn't grown out of its youngness (youngness contrasted with youth, which usually started being shed in your early or late 20s) didn't make him stand out. Even the weird clothes that were picked out specifically for being weird weren't too weird, showing that he had some conscience/consciousness in there. Lurantis though was indefensible. She was a bright pink pokémon of which only a single person in the entirety of Kanto owned. How many bright pink pokémon were even in Kanto anyways? Jigglypuff, Wigglytuff, Slowpoke, Slowbro, Exeggute…the thought process behind Marley's mind wasn't mistaken and her eyesight wasn't bad. She was just not very observant

  Her thought process rebooted when Lane spoke. Only a single thought ran through her head: would his friends be just as weird?

  "Big," Green's eyes flitted between the two, "sis?"

  "Taller," was all that Mina said.

  Lane waved them off. "Oh, she isn't really big sis. I just call her big sis because she's got the sisterly energy."

  Both girls looked at the third, who hadn't discovered that there's another color a person can wear except black and white.

  "Y'sure?" Mina asked.

  "She's got kind of…" Green trailed off.

  "Is this what they're talking about when they say that girls are meaner than boys?" Lane asked, nudging an elbow into Lulu. It was that moment when he realized that she had a new green beard. "Lulu!"

  Marley raised her hands. "Look, you're no longer yelling, so there's—"

  "Marley! Stop edging away!" Lane gestured to the seat next to him. "It's a good thing that we're all here. Take a seat and we can get to business."

  There was a war inside of her head. Saying that an angel and devil were perched on her shoulders would've been an exaggeration; either option was a bit more morally gray, making those little creatures perched on her shoulders take the shape of her mom and dad. Her mom said that running away from the trouble was smarter. Her dad was much more boisterous, shouting in her ear that she'd already taken the plunge and should stick with her guns (most said pokémon, but her dad was a gun enthusiast). There was also a tiny moral thing that Lane had run into danger while at Cinnabar. Perhaps there was another serious problem that needed to be dealt with? It'd be bad of her to leave when she was confident being the strongest trainer in their group.

  Smoothing the bottom of her skirt, she slid onto a chair. Green was already giving her a stink eye while Mina was staring into the distance.

  "That house…" Mina mumbled.

  Marley turned around. It was a square house, painted yellow, eyelids half-lowered. A Staryu was squirting water on the roses that were planted in a box next to the front door.

  "Yeah?" Marley prompted.

  Mina didn't respond except by putting her sketchbook against the table and taking out colored pencils from her pocket. Each flick of her wrist created the horizons of reality, the boundaries of the house made with practiced ease. Little imperfections divorced from the real house were created within the silhouettes, though Marley had to admit that the drawing was impeccably done that those may have simply been the style.

  On the other end was Green, a girl who hadn't stopped glaring at Marley since she interrupted the screaming match. Besides her rather basic clothes, there were tiny clues that Marley could pick out. Being out on the road burdened girls who wanted to look their best. Some routes were so long that you needed to camp, and unless you were willing to find a pack pokémon to carry your stuff, there was also a limit to the amount of things you could carry. Basically, keeping clean was next to impossible if you were on your journey. Marley compounded the problem by sticking her nose into places that most didn't, but even she had standards. Green had twigs acting like scrunchies in her hair! And patches of dirt camouflaged as birth marks! Elbows gray because they hadn't been moisturized in weeks, if ever!

  The girls, save Mina, were drawn to Lane when he knocked on the table.

  "It's good that we could all gather here. Let's have ourselves a little competition."

  "A competition?" Marley asked.

  "Who drank my milkshake?" Green asked sourly. Lulu crossed her arms around her back and looked around. Green muttered, "bet it was this mall goth girl."

  Pieces of paper slapped down. Categories above long lines read name, favorite pokémon, address, and phone number.

  "Here's my genius method of spreading engagement about the pokédex! Since Professor Oak has graciously hired me to spread the word about it, I created these! They'll put themselves on a list that Professor Oak can sort out on his own." He nervously played with the corners of the papers. "I, uh, didn't know their price, or when they're done, but I think that a pokédex will have enough appeal that people will put up with the mystery no matter what."

  "What's a pokédex?" Marley asked.

  Another paper slid towards her that, unlike the papers asking for a signature which were lovingly detailed with a ruler and legible handwriting, instead was scribbled out in pencil. That didn't stop Lane from making explosive outlines and little thumbs up to emphasize certain parts. Everything that he considered important about it was written as if it were an advertisement, especially repeating that it would contain all known pokémon and made by Professor Oak, Professor Oak, Professor Oak himself, and the various nom de plumes that he’d acquired through the years. A tiny disclaimer stated that the pokémon of Johto, Sinnoh, Hoenn and all other regions weren't listed yet.

  "So what's the reward?" Green asked hungrily.

  He dully looked at her. "You're s'posed to ask what the competition is 'fore the reward."

  "We're busy people here! I'm only going to do this if the reward's worth it!" Green said, huffing.

  "Busy? You've now just had your raison d'etre get captured by the champion, she's been doing something undisclosed and would probably like a moment to rest, and she's waiting for another boat ride,” he shot back.

  "Raison wha'?" Green asked. When only a smug smile was returned, she circled her hand around. "Alright, fine. What's the competition?"

  The paper flickered around as he took the nearest one and held it taut, smacking his hand on its tip. "I'm glad you asked! The competition is whoever gets the most signatures pledging that they have interest in the pokédex! Whoever gets the most signatures gets a rare stone!"

  No gasps. In fact, it was like he didn't say anything at all.