3:12 p.m., November 6th, Friday, 106 PH (Post Hoopa Event). Day 150.

  Events: Rhea and the girls are on a Badge Hunt, trying to get all the Kanto Encrusted Badges before time runs out! Our girl started her journey on the 9th of June, and the registration deadline for the Winter Indigo Cup is December 5th (28 days away).

  The helicopter’s descent was as smooth as Amira remembered, but her stomach still dropped upon seeing her house—seeing home from above always did that to her, like gravity decided to remind her who she was before she could put the mask on.

  In the windows, she saw Conny—her mother’s 5’4” Azumarill—waving enthusiastically, practically bouncing as she tried to signal the others inside that they were here. Conny’s joy was so… pure it made something in Amira’s chest twist, because she couldn’t match it. Not right now. Not with tomorrow sitting in her throat like a stone.

  Amira took a deep breath anyway. Forced air in. Forced air out. And then—like she’d been doing for weeks—she recited the song she’d been working on in her head, the one that kept showing up in the messages from a certain boy who made her think thoughts she’d never had before.

  What if I told you life was built to break? What if I warned you, you can’t outrun your fate… Would you believe that with time comes grace? Every dream was mine to lose, and that’s what it took to lead me to you.

  Her full lips drew into a tight line, and the pain in her chest compounded with so many internal, conflicting emotions that had led her to this moment. She pressed her fingernails into her palm until she felt the bite through skin—just enough to make her body listen. Just enough to keep her from trembling where anyone could see.

  And it wasn’t the bullet aimed at her heart that came to mind.

  It was Cerulean—Kekipi, and the way her world had tilted when she realized she was capable of being wrong about people. It was Fuchsia, and Lucian’s confession, and the Earthquake of emotion that hit her so hard she’d spent hours afterward trying to file it away into something neat and labeled and safe.

  Tomorrow was supposed to be the culmination of every decision she’d made since before she could remember. Tomorrow was her grandfather. Tomorrow was the Gym she’d walked through a hundred times with her head held high and her heart locked behind iron.

  So why—why—were these two boys tugging at her like loose threads she couldn’t knot?

  A very chill, emotionally stable Alolan boy—romantic in a way that didn’t feel like pressure. A boy who took great care to understand her boundaries, who asked instead of assumed.

  A boy who met her family and didn’t run, didn’t stiffen, didn’t look at the weight of her name and decide it was too much. One who made her feel…not trapped. Not handled. Not like a weapon in someone else’s plan.

  And a boy who had been the opposite of all of that.

  A rude young noble from Kalos who had basically called her ugly when they first met—like it cost him nothing to cut her, like it was sport.

  He painted a target on his back from day one and made it his mission to beat her, and even when he lost next in Pewter he didn’t stop, didn’t soften—he just kept coming, and of course he had to end up on the same team as her best friend’s boyfriend, as if the universe itself had decided Amira didn’t deserve the dignity of distance.

  But then…he confessed something totally out of left field, and it was as if blinders on her eyes had been ripped away.

  He was no longer the same boy.

  Or maybe he was—and the terrifying part was that she could suddenly see why.

  Family expectations. Family anxieties. Pressure so real it gripped her heart in ways she never anticipated, because she’d always assumed she was the only one living under that kind of shadow. The truth in how he saw her—how he saw her like she was…loved.

  How he could see the attention and affection in her family that he envied so much that it blinded him, until that confession. How he longed for freedom. The raw, bitter-sweet mess of Diantha being pregnant with his new baby sister, and what that meant to him—the fear, the resentment, the love he didn’t know what to do with.

  It opened an empathetic chamber of her heart she didn’t know existed.

  And she hated that it did.

  Why did she think about him?

  Why did she keep thinking about him?

  Her hand moved without permission—free hand pulling out her phone, thumb hovering like it was someone else’s. She stared at Lucian’s message and found a level of comfort in it that no one else but her mother had been able to give her, because it didn’t feel like a demand. It felt like…someone admitting they were broken too. He could see her flaws and philosophy in ways few could.

  And she reread it again, like pressing her tongue to a sore tooth.

  So here’s to the heartache. And here’s to the mistakes. We’ll drink to all the years, the tears that led to this place. Here’s to the dark days. It’s been a long wait… with every dream I had that was mine to lose—because none of them mattered in the end, except for what it took to lead me to you. Thank you for opening my heart up to my mother again.

  Her throat tightened so fast it scared her.

  Not because she was a romantic. She wasn’t. She didn’t get to be in public, so she’d never developed what Jason or Lori freely express. Her life was elegant, always. Always on guard. Always looking for how others could twist her actions to harm her family.

  This was something new. A stupid, humiliating part of her that was small, hidden, and untrained, that she apparently wanted to believe it.

  Wanted to believe that she wasn’t just a granddaughter heading to a battlefield tomorrow. What the headlines might read. What her grandfather would say if she lost.

  It was a piece that wanted to believe she could be a girl who got to have something soft without it being a liability.

  She closed her eyes, feeling a pressure not built by anyone else but her own numb hands, and for half a second, she let herself feel it. Then, with the hissing of the hydraulics and lowering wall, she let it go with the steam.

  I have to make a decision before facing Grandpa. I have to give them my answer.

  She couldn’t help but smile as her father came out of the cockpit, her mother giggling, carried like the princess he thought she was—the most spoiled mother in existence, as she refused to stop messing with his ahoge. Her journey helped her see that side of them, contrasting the tears and pain her teammates shared about their own family experiences. She used to get upset at her mom for these kinds of absurdities due to who their family was.

  I was truly a spoiled brat who knew nothing about love or how dark the world is.

  Her throat tightened.

  Breathe. Just breathe. You’ve done harder things than this. Just…focus on the challenge ahead of you. Not fighting years of emotional self-sabotage. Keep coping, Amira… Such a waste of a pretty face you can be. Muk, when have I ever started talking to myself like that?

  She stepped down the ramp, Amber at her heels, and forced herself to look normal. Composed. The Rocket girl who had it all together.

  Even if the edges were fraying.

  Walking with everyone into the house, she got goosebumps as the smell hit her. Her mother’s experimental Leppa juice blend from this morning, the faint ozone tang from Zelri’s last teleport—no doubt picking up exotic materials illegally from the Orange Archipelago—Bailey’s Meganium-sweet pollen.

  Conny was already bustling through the kitchen when they came in through the back door, her massive Azumarill frame moving with the same precision Mom used in battle. She held a juice box in one hand and nudged the fridge open with her tail, somehow managing to look both unbothered and hyper-competent.

  “Rill-rill,” Conny hummed, glancing back at them with her usual smile while motioning with her tail to come closer for a hug.

  She’s checking on me, Amira realized. She always checks on me.

  Conny had been her mother’s Ace since before Amira was born. The Azumarill had rocked her to sleep as a baby, taught her how to swim in the pond out back—well, before Conny destroyed it—and on one memorable occasion, almost flattened a Garchomp that had gotten too aggressive during a League exhibition match.

  Amira’s throat burned as she accepted the embrace.

  “Hey, Conny,” she managed, voice even. “Is Mikayla around?”

  “Wigglytuff!” came the cheerful trill from the living room.

  Mikayla floated into view a moment later, her puffy pink body practically vibrating with excitement. She had a basket of snacks in her arms—clearly raided from the pantry—and was already eyeing the door like she knew exactly when the Wooloo girls would arrive.

  Logistics and morale, Amira thought distantly. That’s always been her thing. Why am I being so clinical right now? I’m not this cynical. Am I being cynical? Stop it!

  Mikayla had teleported half the Johto Elite Four into position during a Magma incident six years ago. She’d also once spent three hours teaching Amira how to braid hair when she was nine and crying because the girls at school said hers was “too perfect and thick” to be real and had to be a wig.

  “Tuff-tuff?” Mikayla asked, tilting her head.

  Amira shook her head. “I’m fine. Just…setting up for dinner.”

  Mikayla’s eyes narrowed slightly—Amira’s Aura control was losing ground and leaking out her true emotions—but she didn’t push. Instead, she bounced over to Lori, who was already sprawling on the couch with Teri, and dumped half the snack basket into her lap.

  “Yo, for real?” Lori laughed, immediately tearing into a bag of chips. “Mikayla, you’re a saint. I burn so many calories—you know, I tried to get fat once, but being addicted to dancing made it impossible, so I gave up.”

  What kind of story is that? Amira had to ask herself, laughing inside and thanking the Unovan girl for her absurdity. You’re really something.

  Zelri materialized in the corner of the room with a soft geometric chime, her angular Porygon-Z body rotating lazily as she scanned the space. A holographic screen flickered to life in front of her, cycling through what looked like security feeds, weather data, and—Amira squinted—her mother’s battle prep for the upcoming League grand show against Geeta.

  Mom always has a million things happening at once… How does she do it all? I’m breaking with just this tiny amount of pressure.

  Zelri was a little Impidimp, though. The number of times she’d caught the Pokémon spying on her at school or around town used to make her think she wasn’t trusted. She didn’t think that way now. And the memories she had of her projecting lullabies on Amira’s ceiling when she had nightmares helped to settle her turbulent heart.

  “Porygon,” Zelri chirped, spinning around her to hug her from all sides.

  Amira exhaled slowly.

  “Yeah, I’m glad to be home, too.”

  The doorbell rang at 3:30 sharp, and Amira went to open it with Rhea bouncing by her side, thick thigh-length golden hair bouncing in its ponytail.

  Sam, Hannah, Jade, Rylee, Jay, and Cami were clustered on the porch, free from their backpacks—likely at their hotel—and their Pokémon hovering around them in various states of excitement.

  “Hey!” Sam chimed, a little breathless. “Thanks again for—”

  She stopped mid-sentence as Star, Hannah’s male Togepi, launched himself out of his Poké Ball with a delighted trill and rocketed straight past Amira’s shoulder.

  “Pri-pri-pri!”

  Holly flew out of the kitchen in a heartbeat, her Comfey garland of flowers shimmering as she spun in a gleeful circle. “Fey-fey!”

  The two collided mid-air in what could only be described as a tackle-hug, tumbling end over end before landing in a giggling heap on the entryway floor.

  Amira felt her lips twitch despite herself. They’d taken care of each other in Viridian since their Shiny nature and personalities—well, at least Star’s personality—made them general outcasts, as she remembered. Holly was just too loyal ever to leave her first friend.

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  It had only been a week or so since they last met, but they acted as if it had been months.

  “Okay, that’s adorable,” Jade cooed, grinning as Star started chattering at Holly in rapid-fire Togepi, clearly catching her up on everything she’d missed.

  “Togepi-pri-pri-togepi!”

  “Fey! Comfey-fey!”

  Hannah was already pulling out her phone to record, her face lighting up with that earnest, unfiltered joy she always had around Pokémon.

  The redhead was looking rather elegant, as well, Amira noted, seeing every advantage she’d texted her taken to heart about beauty and fashion. The girl had even added a few points of polish of her own, which suited her, such as the shade of lipstick and blush.

  Amira stepped aside to let them in, and that’s when she saw it. Hannah’s eyes flicked to her—just for a second—worry creasing her brow, then she looked away.

  Oh, no. Is she feeling judged? Amira realized, stomach twisting. Is my mood affecting how she sees herself?

  “You look lovely today, Hannah,” she tried to correct with a pleasant smile. “Your dress and the small trim to your hair are noticeable. I especially like the new shades of makeup; they really complement your hair better than mine due to it being slightly lighter.”

  “O-Oh! You noticed. Umm, yeah… Yeah, I tried out that braid you showed me, but I’m still trying to master it. Thanks!”

  “I noticed the Rocket purse, as well. It’s one of my favorite designs due to the care in texture with the strap.”

  “Mhm! Same.”

  She felt a little happy to see the girl trying so hard, but from what Rhea mentioned, all of the Wooloo girls were having a bit of trouble finding suitable dates. Amira didn’t see why with how much they’d grown up over the past few months. They’d seen a substantial change in appearance—mostly confidence—since Rhea had first introduced them.

  Hmm. That’s more Lori’s department, though. Should I mention it to her? She’d charge at that like a Tauros… Though, it is none of my business. My, what thoughts has Rhea’s example extracted from me. I’ve changed so much.

  Welcoming them in, she knew to an extent Hannah was a fan of hers, but it was hard to give her attention when she had so many internal conflicts.

  “Come on in,” she redirected, voice smooth. “My mother is setting up in the kitchen.”

  She felt like she was a bit trapped in her head because everyone rushed in like a hurricane, but she couldn’t tell anyone what the topics were as she responded on auto pilot, which wasn’t like her—she really wasn’t like herself recently.

  Maybe…the pressure with Grandpa is really getting to me.

  Dinner prep was chaos in the best way.

  Her mother had commandeered the kitchen with the kind of cheerful tyranny only she could pull off, directing Conny, Mikayla, and Zelri like a tiny, hyperactive general. Conny was handling the heavy lifting—literally carrying a pot of stew that should have required two people—while Mikayla teleported ingredients from the pantry to the counter in rapid-fire bursts.

  And, of course, a green officer to the area showed up and was invited in by her mother with joy to witness the many illegal teleportation activities—the poor guy didn’t know whose house it was until he was being ushered in. And, once trapped by her mother, there was no getting out of that Sticky Web.

  Zelri floated near the stove, Telekinesis holding timers, a recipe, and what looked like a live feed of the dining table being set by Lori and Rhea.

  “Perfect!” her mother chirped, spinning around with a ladle in hand, the ‘kidnapped’ officer helping to make the gravy. “Okay, girls, I need someone to chop these onions—gently, they’ll get your eyes—and someone else to stir the rice before it gets sticky. Officer Harvey, when is your wife coming?”

  “I-I called her, Former Champion Lyra, b-but I don’t—”

  “Oh, no trouble! No trouble! I’ll get Zelri to snatch her. I think she found all your photos on Pikabook and figured out where she works. We’ll leave a note for her boss. This is such a good day!”

  “Honey, you’re jumping ahead of yourself,” her father injected from the corner, already on his phone. “I’ve found her. She works for Rocket. I’ll make the call to her manager.”

  “Wonderful!”

  Amira felt bad for the man, looking trapped as her father was already being the accomplice to her mother’s chaos, enabling, as always.

  “That looks good, Officer Harvey,” Jade snickered, rolling in beside him and pulling back her sleeves. “I’m on the onions, Lyra!”

  Her big sister swooped in, being the party’s designated cook. “I’ll help!”

  Amira stood in the doorway, watching the chaos breed—somehow, it always got bigger. Officer Henrey was the perfect example of that.

  Her Pokémon had scattered. Amber was perched on the back of a chair, chatting with Gables in that flirty, competitive way she always did. Serenity was in their fishtank, talking to some of her mom’s ‘rescues’ that swapped out on the daily, her Feebas’ scales shimmering faintly as she observed the controlled chaos with quiet curiosity.

  Mariah was taking care of Tess, though that didn’t last long before Terri was dragging her out with Lulu and Rhea’s Ralts to engage in a mock battle. That left her newest little girl in her hands, which was a stabilizing turn of events.

  Amira’s gaze dropped to the baby Ferroseed cradled in her arms.

  Tess was tiny. Salt-and-pepper spikes still soft, her eyes wide and trusting as she nuzzled into Amira’s chest. She’d only bonded to her two weeks ago, and even now, Amira could feel the faint pull on her Fortitude—not draining, just there, a constant reminder that this little one needed her.

  Five Pokémon, Amira thought distantly. I have five Pokémon now. The last time I was home, I’d just barely bonded with Holly. Now we’re full Silver-tier. Amber, Holly, Serenity, Mariah, and now Tess… My little family. I know you’re all worried about me.

  She saw each of her girls look her way, brows creasing, but knowing that pushing her in any direction wouldn’t help. They just sent their love and support.

  “Ferro?” Tess chirped softly, her spikes brushing Amira’s arm.

  I’m fine, Amira whispered internally, stroking her gently. Not really fine. No. How can I when I have to face Grandpa tomorrow… But I’m as fine as I can be. Just thinking. I think that’s why Mom is going so crazy… She’s distracting Rhea so she doesn’t notice. I asked for her help, after all. I need to work through this wall on my own. Well, with you girls, too.

  “Ferro.”

  She looked up and caught sight of Rhea across the room.

  The blonde was kneeling by the back door, one hand on Rylee’s shoulder. They were talking quietly—too quiet for Amira to hear over the kitchen noise—but Rylee’s posture was tense, her neon-blue hair shadowing her face as tears fell down her cheeks.

  Speedy, Amira thought. Of course, Rhea would zero in on that in an instant. Rylee’s still grieving. Her mother should be here in the city with her… I wonder if Miky is with her? No. That’s not something I should be thinking about. Lori closed that page in her journey.

  Rhea said something soft, and Rylee nodded, her shoulders loosening just a fraction. Then Rhea stood, squeezed her arm once, and turned back toward the kitchen with an encouraging smile.

  Amira looked away before their eyes could meet, trying to look busy with Tess.

  Rhea doing Rhea things, Amira thought, something bitter and warm tangling in her chest. Always checking on people. Always making sure everyone else is okay and never worrying about herself. All I can think of is myself or my self-image. I can’t believe I used to think she was just an uneducated country girl who was totally ignorant about life. Well, she was…until life bit her.

  She forced herself to move, to set Tess down gently in her travel case near Amber, to join the others at the table.

  Pull it together. You’re Amira Rocket. You don’t fall apart. You’re a fractured diamond, but still a diamond. Shine!

  Dinner was loud.

  Her mother had outdone herself—Wepear Berry stew, fluffy rice, roasted vegetables, and some kind of berry tart that made Lori actually moan when she took the first bite.

  Lyra, you’re a goddess at battles and the kitchen,” Lori declared, already reaching for seconds. “My mom could never!”

  “Oh, your mom isn’t so bad. I got trapped on an island with her once, and she made something…kind of edible until we were rescued. She was sort of an enemy at the time, but I make friends with all my enemies…mostly!” she laughed. “And thank you, dear. I’m glad someone appreciates my cooking.”

  “Your daughter appreciates it,” Amira reflexively returned, though her stomach was twisting too much to eat more than a few bites. “I’m just feeling a little queasy right now.”

  Her mother gave her a sly wink. “A mom has to put her daughter on the hot seat! It’s mandatory. And what do you think, Mr. and Ms.Wallburg?” she smoothly redirected, making her roll her eyes.

  The kidnapped couple stammered responses, causing Rhea to lock onto them like sad Growlith. Whatever her mom was doing, it was working.

  Sam was telling a story about their battle in Cerulean—something about Tera, her Phanpy, tanking three hits in a row and still charging forward—and everyone was laughing, even Cami, who still looked a little worn out from how fast the former champion moved.

  Amira smiled. Nodded. Responded when spoken to, but kept mostly to herself—when her mother let her.

  Sadly, the food actually tasted like ash to her, even though she knew her mother was a phenomenal cook. How can mood and stress change taste like this? It’s…concerning. That is certainly a concerning sign. What is wrong with me? No. This is temporary. Everything will be fine after tomorrow.

  The word kept pulsing in her head, heavier each time.

  Tomorrow I have to face Grandpa.

  Tomorrow I have to prove I’m not a failure.

  Tomorrow—

  “Amira?”

  She blinked. It wasn’t Rhea’s voice.

  Hannah was looking at her, concern flickering in her eyes again.

  “You okay?” she asked quietly.

  “Fine,” Amira said, voice smooth as glass. “Just thinking a lot about strategy for tomorrow. Everything ends tomorrow.”

  Hannah hesitated, then nodded and looked away.

  Everything will be fine tomorrow… They have to be.

  After dinner, they moved to the living room for games.

  Her mother had pulled out some kind of holographic trivia setup Zelri had made, and Lori immediately dominated the pop culture category while Rhea surprised everyone by sweeping the Pokémon biology section—then again, her mother was one of the most famous breeders in the world.

  “How do you even know that?” Jade asked, laughing. “What Pokémon has the highest recorded body temperature?”

  “Magcargo,” Rhea returned with a grin. “It’s hotter than the surface of the sun—well, at least the highest level ones recorded are. My mom helped critique a paper on it, one with someone doing their doctorate on the subject—funny thing is, it is internally radiated, not externally. So the heat at the innermost point is hotter than the surface of the sun, not the external part, so you don’t need to worry about melting everyone.”

  The blonde forced a smile. “Also…I hunger struck her at that time, and she was trying to reason with me when I was six, trying to distract me with random facts.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Amira tried to join in, but the noise was getting too loud for her, and for some reason, the lights were too bright, and it was getting too warm. Her chest was starting to hurt every time she glanced at the clock and saw another hour had passed.

  Hannah kept glancing her way—quick, furtive looks that Amira pretended not to notice. Each one felt like a tiny pinprick of guilt. She wanted to help and knew something was wrong, but obviously didn’t know how. Honestly, no one could help her. She just had to get it over with.

  Lori was in the corner now, playing some kind of relay game with Mikayla and Conny that involved teleporting snacks across the room, making the officer groan at every illegal teleport, but his wife was having a blast. The Wooloo girls were cheering, and even Rylee had cracked a smile.

  Amira sat on the couch as the game went on, hands folded in her lap, and felt like she was watching it all through glass. I need to leave. I need fresh air.

  She stood, carefully, smoothly.

  “I’m going to get some air,” she mumbled.

  Her mother’s eyes flickered to her, lips becoming a line but she didn’t call her out. “Okay, sweetie! Take your time, I know your mom can be loud.”

  “You can, but you’re fine, Mom,” she returned with a real smile. “You’re the best and most frustrating mother a mother could be—well, at least to me,” she corrected upon catching Rhea’s gaze and internally knowing she had no right to claim such a thing compared to Christie.

  She slipped out the back door before anyone could follow.

  The backyard was cooler. Quieter. Amira sank down onto the bench by a pond she’d helped to dig when she was twelve, arms wrapped around her stomach, and let herself feel it.

  The nausea. The tightness in her chest. The way her hands were trembling.

  What’s wrong with me? It’s just a Gym Battle. I’ve fought so many Gym Leaders now. I’ve never lost against a Gym. I knew every answer they wanted—answered every challenge. I’ve never lost. Not once. I was almost assassinated! So why am I feeling this way? It’s Grandpa. So…why am I scared? Why does this feel…impossible?

  “Because it’s Grandpa,” she whispered to the empty air, seeing a titan’s shadow hanging over her throughout her whole life—poised, always prepared, and never faltering.

  I’m faltering.

  The door opened behind her.

  Amira didn’t turn. She already knew who it was.

  “Hey, my little Mew.”

  Her mother’s voice was painfully soft. Gentle. Lyra sat down beside her, close but not touching, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then Amira broke.

  “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  The words came out raw. Cracked.

  Her mother didn’t flinch, and she let the weight hang for a moment, maybe looking for the right words. “…Tell me why.”

  Amira’s throat burned. “Because… Because I’m already qualified for the Silver Cup. Logically, this doesn’t matter. But it does. It matters more than any battle I’ve had, and I don’t know why, and I can’t stop thinking about it, and—and is this what Lori felt after losing to Misty? Or, I don’t know… I can’t lose…but I feel like I will.”

  She stopped, breath hitching.

  Her mother waited.

  “I keep thinking,” Amira said quietly, “that if I can’t beat him, I don’t deserve to be there. I don’t deserve any of this.”

  Her mother’s hand found hers, small and warm.

  “You’ve always been a thinker, like your dad. That’s not stupid to overthink things or go down these crazy Buneary holes,” she mumbled. “You’re reaching for something you’ve looked at since you were a little girl… That Encrusted Earth Badge. It is supposed to be hard. That’s healthy. But you need to rely on your friends, too. Talk to them, but first talk to your Pokémon.”

  Amira blinked, then all the pieces fell into place. Just those words had shifted the angle to let the light in. “If…Rhea truly is my friend. Then, I should rely on her…even if I’m a burden?”

  “Sweetie,” her mother whispered, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “A friend isn’t a burden. Chase those silly thoughts from your mind, because your heart knows it, and it’s looking for support you’ve denied it… I’m not your only place to cry anymore and ask for help. Will Rhea judge you?”

  “…Never. It’s not in her.”

  “Then allow her the opportunity to show you how much of a friend she is, as you have been for her, because I know…you have changed that little blonde country girl’s life for the better. Let her return that same gift…because I know you want a real friend. That hope and craving…is stronger than your fear.”

  Letting those words sink into her anxious heart, tears started leaking out of her eyes, and she slid over to lie on top of her mom, pulling her into a hug to cry into her chest.

  “Thank you, Mom… Thank you…for being everything I ever needed.”

  “My little girl…that’s what mothers do. You are my whole life… So let it out, and then…go on a walk with Rhea. I think it’s about time you finally showed someone else everything you truly are. And, one day…maybe a certain boy will earn enough trust points to be rewarded the same.”

  “Mom…”

  “What? I’m a mother. It’s mandatory.”

  Laughing through her tears, she hugged her tighter, letting the stress and pressure leak out enough to follow her mother’s sage-like advice.

  I have Pokémon to talk to now… And a friend to talk to now.

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