Harmonia

by Ereschkigal

Summary:

Tell me, do you see a light at the end of your journey?

Team Plasma falls apart, nothing has gone the way Ghetsis wanted it to, and it is all N's fault.
Locked in a cell as punishment, N's only hope of escape is his best friend Zoroark. But running away is hard work, and as he encounters Friede, drained and exhausted, changing oneself seems inevitable.
Little does N know that he has more scars on his heart than expected. Memories eat away at his mind; and Ghetsis is searching for him.

[Side story of "Whispers".
Readability without main story: Don't. It's hard. And confusing.]

Notes:

Welcome to my personal dosis of pain.
To make it short: I'll try updating every other week but I promise NOTHING!
I guess the update day will be Thursdays for the chapters.
Hope you'll enjoy it (or wriggle in pain, makes me happy too).

Chapter 1: Escape

》My dearest child of ruins, don't look back!
Your demon is looking for you,
willing to drag you into the shadows.
Looking back holds no light.
Only memories, burnt deep into your flesh.《

 

Fire surged through his shoulder. Hissing swirled through the air. Leather tore at his skin, and although a scream burnt in his lungs, Natural couldn’t utter a sound. Only groans travelled down his throat, unable to convey clear thoughts.

His gaze fixed on the ground, he scrutinised the blood dripping from his nose and combining with rock and dust. Each lash resounded in his ears, but his flesh was too numb to react. The bruises on his wrists, which had been tied to a stake, sent pain like pinpricks up his arms. From his shoulders onwards, he could only feel a throbbing.

Huddled on the floor, naked and with his stomach growling, he didn’t dare lift his head once. He already knew that Ghetsis’ blazing gaze was on him. Fierce loathing that differed strongly from the outbursts his adoptive father had taken out on him years ago. In those breaths, he was no longer the man who had lovingly cared for him.

“Are you ungrateful creature even listening?”

Natural’s lids twitched. Whenever he tried to close his eyes, he thought he was resting in a desert – his vision full of sand. So he kept them open, listening to the noise in his head and his father.

Mostly to his father.

“I’m talking to you!”

Another blow passed over his body with such force that Natural felt the heat. Moist, flowing hotness he now recognised as blood.

“If you weren’t so incompetent, everything could have been ours! Instead, you took all my trust and betrayed it with your disgusting selfishness!”

He heard Ghetsis spit in front of his hands. A bit of saliva touched his fingertips.

“All these years to bring civilisation to a savage. You are an incapable monster! Something like you has no place among humans.”

Perhaps that was true.

Abandoned in a forest as a child and raised by Pokémon, he probably possessed few things that equated him to a normal human. Sure, he had a mortal body, Ghetsis had taught him the language of this world, and he knew of his weakness. There was no way for him to perform an attack like he had seen many Pokémon do. However, he also lacked a liking for books, art, fashion, complicated discussions, or the stifling silence within a closed room. Things that made a person. Most of the memories of his childhood were a blurred mosaic, but they still existed and inspired longing – despite Ghetsis’ strict upbringing.

“I sacrificed my life for you! And not only did you inferior creature throw it all away because some stupid girl asked you to, but you also wanted to disappear with Zekrom and turn your back on your duties.”

Another snap hissed close to Natural's ear, causing a sluggish twitch to flit across his body. His fingers were so swollen he could no longer clench his hands into fists.

“Where were you going, anyway?”

Exploring the world, father – the only thought that still sounded understandable in Natural’s mind.

A fortnight ago, Domino had gotten in his way and given him the final push to break out of his insecure view and take a step into the world she labelled cruelly beautiful. He had simply flown away with Zekrom, tasting Unova one last time before sneaking into a secret hideout of Plasma and packing clothes. He had wanted to go travelling to get his very own picture of this world. Maybe then he could have explained to his father that there were Pokémon that loved their trainers – everywhere.

Perhaps then they would have become a little closer – away from the memories of the dark days that Natural had blocked out before.

But what value did such knowledge have for a man who was looking for a ruler? Was Ghetsis’ bitterness deeper than he let on, or was his father simply turning a blind eye to the good things?

“I should dispose of you... For all the trouble you’ve caused. Just as I planned!”

The drops of blood on the floor seemed to form a picture. A kind of portrait that other people praised to the skies because it harboured hidden meaning he himself, as an artist, didn’t understand. Was he drawing Unova in the dirt? Was he perhaps predicting his death?

His tongue quivered as he licked dryly over his lower lip. A metallic flavour permeated his nerves. Would anyone even notice if he died?

“I’m tired of you...”

Wood rattled. Probably the handle of the whip. For a breath, he regretted Ghetsis' appearance – out of nowhere, to attack him – in the secret hiding place. None of the explanations Natural had weighed on his tongue had surfaced that day. Instead, he had raised his hands too late. The exploding pain in his cheek when his father’s fist had landed in his face had knocked him out.

Hours later, when consciousness returned, he had found himself in a filthy cell – naked and leashed like a hated Poochyena.

“I’ll ask you again.” In the background, Ghetsis stepped closer. “What is your goal? What do you intend to achieve out there? You as a useless creature in human skin?”

Silence was all Natural could manage. What was the point of travelling? Who cared about the opinions of a young man who had nothing to show for it?

Why go to all this trouble?

Why fight the tiredness in his body?

Wouldn’t it be better if all this ended? When it all stopped, when he could finally sleep, forget about the world and the Pokémon, forget about friendships, accept the circumstances, shut out his confused thoughts, just for a moment, forever, for two seconds-

His scalp burnt as his head was tugged upwards. After all these days, in a crouched position, he saw his father’s face again. Eyes in a hollow face, surrounded by layers of wrinkles.

“Harmonia ... you’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

Was he? A good boy?

“Don’t you know how much I care about you? You’ve ruined everything, and now we have nothing left. All I’ve said are the words people out there will have for you when you meet them.” His shoulders slumped. “Don’t you realise that girl was only trying to protect her ideals? She was from the Explorers! Enemies to our goal.”

“Domino...” Natural’s tongue weighed heavy as lead. “She... has a... good... heart...”

“She doesn’t, my boy.” A sigh came over Ghetsis. “She wooed you with words you didn’t understand. My love may be hard, as it is now, but it is real.”

It had always been real. Every slap in the face, every kick in the stomach, every mean word – they had made him grow up. His father had always wanted to prepare him for the world out there, for the good things and the hard things. Natural knew that. Whenever Ghetsis had hit him with a stick, his apologies had been tearful. His father didn’t enjoy being mean to him. Sometimes Natural deserved the punishments. It made perfect sense. Always had been. He did something wrong, and his father had to carry out the consequences. All so that Natural could grow up to be a healthy adult.

“Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you, Harmonia? You need to be better.” Slowly, Ghetsis bent his knees, loosened his grip, and patted Natural’s cheek – just like when he was a child. “We can still turn the tide. We blame your injuries on the Explorers. Especially Domino.”

“Why?” The question escaped Natural’s lips like a breath, and although he thought he had been overheard, his head jerked briskly to the side in the next blink of an eye.

His skull throbbed as he crashed onto his shoulder, and his body shrank. But there were no more blows, and when he heard Ghetsis gaining distance, Natural dared to look up.

“Why? Because it’s your fault that Plasma failed. It’s also your fault that we have to blame the poor girl for everything now. Do you think I’m doing this purely for pleasure? You know I wanted Domino on our team!” He shook his pale green mop of hair. “I hope you haven’t forgotten she wanted to work with us. She just didn’t felt like being away from her team. Those Explorers ... imagine one of them paid Zinzolin to hurt her! And now I have to blame her for your suffering. That pains me.”

He pulled a Poké Ball out of the pocket of his golden-blue robe. Not one of his own, which were already old and worn. It looked new, barely used, but the peeling paint in one spot reminded Natural dimly of a friend he had borrowed from another Plasma member – shortly after the release of almost all his other Pokémon.

His father skilfully released Liepard from its prison. The purple fur shone in the poor light, and before it understood the circumstances, Ghetsis grabbed it harshly by the back of the neck and pushed it to the ground. Immediately afterwards, he pulled out a gun – one of those ugly weapons that could only be gained underground.

“It is only because of the Explorers that I must now kill one being that means so much to you.” A trembling sigh overcame Ghetsis. “Can’t you see what this Domino has done to you? She probably didn’t mean to and was manipulated, but this life ... this blood will be on her fingers.”

Opposition stuck to Natural’s dry lips but went down without a sound. His body barely moved. Every attempt to find the right words choked his throat. Gasping breaths shook his shoulders, and when something came off his tongue, he could barely hear himself.

“You don’t have to hurt it...” Audible exhalations pierced the space between them. Tears burnt on his lower eyelids. “This Liepard won’t change anything. I’ll do whatever you want ... but don’t take it out on an innocent Pokémon.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong, Harmonia.” Liepard hissed as Ghetsis pressed it harder to the ground. “We need this death. Right now, the humans out there hate you. They think you led them astray. Land was destroyed when our castle came to the surface. The league took heavy damage. You nearly killed the Elite Four and the champ – they have a lot of fans – while it was all broadcast on the internet for people to see how strong you are. Many people pinned their hopes on you and were disappointed. Do you think they would still back you if you asked them to now?”

Natural’s numb arms tugged at the rope that bound him to the post. The individual hairs of the hemp poked into the raw flesh of the abrasions.

“Harmonia, we have to protect you. Do you understand? I did all this for you.” He put the barrel of the gun to Liepard’s head. “The humans will forgive you when they see the physical injuries you’ve taken from the Explorers. They’ll feel sorry for you because those monsters beat you up so badly. The fact I punished you was simply because of your naivety.”

Was that the case? Had all this happened because he had decided in his own favour for once in his life – thanks to Domino’s encouragement?

“But many won’t be sure if that’s enough to save the Pokémon. They won’t be completely behind you until they realise these Explorers have manipulated you and you’ve lost a loyal friend because of it. They will recognise your anger, your pain, and your newly earned willpower and follow you.”

“But... Domino...”

He didn’t want to have to drag her into this dark corner. Her warm embrace, the love in her words – she had given him the strength to accept the real world and the courage to want to find out more. She didn’t deserve a witch hunt based on false information.

“If it helps you, then I will name her. The people will strengthen you even more when they learn your queen was and still is controlled by these simpletons.” A snort escaped his father. “But first, one thing at a time.”

Natural’s senses wavered. His thoughts were spinning. He wanted to save Domino, wanted to protect the Pokémon, was ready to give up everything, and yet couldn’t find the strength to lift a finger. Only the image in front of him remained. The hissing of Liepard. Its screech as Ghetsis almost sat down on the Pokémon. The click of the gun.

The horrible bang.

Blood shooting out of the side of its skull and staining the ground.

The Pokémon’s last twitches before it lay motionless.

Red liquid collected and collected and collected.

Natural’s vision blurred, robbing the scene of its cruelty. Hidden behind his tears, the red mingled with the purple of the fur, the yellow of the legs, and the washed-out green that marked his father’s hair.

The only clear thing reaching him was the rough voice of Ghetsis. “I can assume you are once again committed to Plasma and its plans?”

This Pokémon had died because of him. Natural Harmonia Gropius had killed this perfect creature. Not with his own hands. Not with his own words. And yet with the fleeting thought of escaping from this place.

Wouldn’t it be fair if he died too? The emptiness inside him took over with every breath he took. What was the value of all this if he was committed to something wrong, trapped in a spiral from which he couldn’t escape?

“Harmonia, speak up already! I don’t have all day.”

If he agreed and obeyed, the Pokémon’s life wouldn’t be wasted. And yet it would be the eternal memory of a lie. His father had killed Liepard, not the Explorers. Nothing was as he had been told in this cell.

“Don’t make me get the answer out of you, son. I-”

“Kill me,” Natural finally interrupted him. Whichever way he chose, there was no hope of freedom. If Plasma’s success depended on him, he had to eliminate himself. It was quite simple. Afterwards, his father would hunt Domino down, but she was safe with the Explorers.

Dying was the best solution.

The easiest.

“You’re not in your right mind.” Ghetsis sighed. “Maybe you need a break.”

“Please...”

“I’ll let you rest for a few hours and come back later with dinner. Then we’ll talk more. In the end, even a thing like you has human traits.”

He couldn’t stop his father, couldn’t do anything about the clanging of the cell door that thundered in his ears a minute later. Instead, he was left to himself, lying on his side, unable to do more than listen to his own sobs. Whenever he tried to swallow, he tasted the blood on his tongue. Not Liepard’s, but just the thought of it turned his stomach. Everything inside him tightened; gagging gripped him, but all he could expel was bile.

Pressing his forehead to the ground, Natural closed his eyes. Darkness was more peaceful than anything else in this world, and the hope it would swallow him up gave him a strangely cool calm. His body no longer ached. Coldness ensnared his senses, and only the squeaking of the door hinges woke him from his trance.

He raised his head slowly, unwilling to defy his father any longer. But it wasn’t Ghetsis who entered his cell. Black legs with red claws pushed their way in his direction, and as a puffy, wild mane came into view, Zoroark’s face swept Natural’s senses blank.

“We don’t have much time.”

There were so many things resting in his arms, Natural lost track within seconds. All he could do was watch as Zoroark cut the rope with his claws and freed him. He gently grabbed him by the shoulders, sat him up, and offered him a piece of bread. On it, reeking cheese.

“I couldn’t find anything better in such a short time,” Zoroark explained as his paws gripped a water bottle and a worn cloth. He pushed a second bottle in front of Natural’s legs at the same time. “I know Miltank cheese isn’t one of your favourites, but-”

“What ... are you doing here?”

Was he dreaming? Had sleep taken hold of him so he was now living the hope that had been shattered in reality? He even dared to take a bite of the bread. The nasty sour flavour of the cheese seemed too real to fit in with a dream.

“I’m here to save you. Why else would I be here?” Zoroark snorted before his lips curled. “Turned a few of Team Plasma against each other. Ghetsis will be busy. Gives us time.”

With careful touches, the Pokémon washed the sweat and blood from Natural’s naked body. He, however, dared to take a greedy bite of the bread, grabbed the other bottle of water, and emptied it in one go. His stomach grumbled, and although his flesh had seemed so weak before, hunger urged him to continue.

As Zoroark clumsily wrapped a few bandages around Natural’s chest, a giggle escaped the Pokémon. “You’re going to look like a tangled Caterpie.”

It wasn’t a good time for a joke. Dizziness distorted Natural’s vision right after the last bite, and the world spun. Throbbing settled behind his forehead, and he didn’t know where to turn.

“Put this on.” Without further ado, Zoroark held clothes under his nose so Natural obeyed.

His legs remained too weak to carry him, so he slid into the cream-coloured trousers while sitting. The white shirt, far too big, avoided contact with his wounds, and the well-worn sneakers gave him familiar memories. With a black cap on his head, he felt almost normal, but his hands were shaking and sweat was collecting on his forehead. Zoroark wiped away the salty beads.

“We can do this.”

As soon as everything was halfway in place, the Pokémon grabbed him under the arms. In one powerful move, Natural stood on wobbly legs. His weight pressed heavily on his muscles, and only Zoroark kept him from falling.

“I was able to steal Zekrom,” his partner began out of nowhere. “We just need to get out.”

Faint nods washed over Natural. But as he turned his gaze forwards, emptiness in his mind, the dead Liepard prevented his escape. Almost black blood coated the Pokémon’s fur. Its eyes wide open, it stared into nothingness. What had it been thinking about when it died?

As Zoroark forced his body forwards, the heaviness in Natural’s legs increased. His shoes shuffled over the rough ground, and the throbbing under his skin burnt.

“We can’t leave it behind...”

“What do you mean?” His saviour’s ears twitched.

“Liepard. Leaving this body here ... is cruel. It’s not right. We have to-”

“Get out,” Zoroark interrupted him. “N ... I beg you. It may be cruel, but there’s nothing we can do. Just close your eyes. Only for a moment.”

As if nothing had happened. As if he could close his eyelids and the darkness wouldn’t wrap its bitter cold around his throat. The way Zoroark said it, it sounded simple enough, and for a breath, Natural believed the confidence in the middle of the ugly images he might be picturing. Scenes that would fade as soon as he opened his eyes again.

But the blackness behind his eyelids had a colourful grain. Memories spilt over, mingling with what he had experienced. Wax mixed with colour. With flavour. With screams. Ghetsis took a swing. He ducked. A bullet pierced Liepard’s skull. Domino embraced him. A whip tore open his back. Zoroark rushed to help.

Natural's heart raced.

The wish of death – unsteady legs – the will to live – a strong shoulder – the fear of the world outside – gasping – resistance – dry mouth – he.

When he opened his eyes, his lungs filled with cold air. White clouds fell from his lips, and stones crunched under his soles. It felt too cold for the end of September. Maybe that was also because of him.

His arm clutched tightly by Zoroark’s paw, they stumbled forwards. The feeling in his legs was missing, but for those seconds, he still functioned. Meanwhile, his companion dug through his mane with his free paw until a Poké Ball emerged. He tossed it in the air. Red matter formed, turning black, leaving Zekrom standing before them in full grace. The heavy snort blew icy wind through Natural’s clothes, chilling the pain and draining the rest of his energy.

“Where are we travelling to, young hero?” The deep, humming voice addressed Natural, but his tongue remained unable to answer.

“Away,” Zoroark replied. “Away from this place, out of this region! Just ... take him away.”

Zekrom’s head bowed. Without further ado, his partner took him in his arms and, with a powerful leap, transported them both onto the dragon’s back. The warmth of another nestled against N’s legs, and as Zekrom swung them into the air, tremors settled in Naturals’ body. Half in a trance, his gaze fell to his reddened fingertips. The dirt under his nails reminded him of the old days when he had dug for Weedles in Ghetsis’ garden. A smile formed on his lips, and although every fibre of his being rebelled, the question whether running away was the right way to go sprouted.

Was there somewhere out there where he could find a place? Between humans and Pokémon? Or was Ghetsis right?

The questions flashed through his body like lightning. A knot twisted his stomach. The urge to look over his shoulder overpowered him.

Were they already being followed?

Did his father care enough not to want to let him go?

As if in slow motion, Natural turned his head until his cheek met Zoroark’s nose halfway. The sudden warm whisper in his ear forced his gaze back forwards. Simple words that settled over Natural’s senses like a shroud.

“Don’t look back.”

Chapter 2: Help

》Welcome, stranger, under the sun.
There are shadows everywhere,
but not all of them are out to get you.
Believe in hope at the end of a long road.
Believe you deserve this kindness.《

 

Zoroark’s fur gave him warmth, while the sky wallowed in blinding orange and the cold only ate away at his fingertips. Zekrom’s speed had already left Unova far behind. When he looked over his shoulder, there was no land in sight. But ahead of him, between small islands, rose mountains and green expanses. All was right with the world in front of him.

“I’m going to land near a town,” the dragon began out of nowhere. “To rest.”

Natural’s swallow lingered in his throat, dry as dust. His stomach ached and his body burnt with every movement. The wounds shrieked as if someone had driven nails into his flesh. Some breaths seemed to smash fists against his back, and whenever he closed his eyes, the sound of gunfire haunted him.

Even in those seconds, when he briefly lowered his eyelids to collect his thoughts, the memory of the gun, of Ghetsis, of Liepard and its blood overwhelmed him.

As Zekrom wavered, he opened his eyes again, unable to recognise his surroundings. The sky was suddenly far above him, and green expanses stretched across uneven land – meadows crunching under the dragon’s heavy feet and seeming only half as impressive up close.

The slowly settling autumn was probably leaving its mark in every region, and although the sun tickled his nose, the cold tugged at him as he slid off Zekrom’s back. Then, without further ado, the dragon disappeared into its ball while Zoroark let out a snort.

“You manage the way?”

The first town in the region seemed five minutes away. A simple walk along a narrow path he only had to follow to get among humans. So he nodded.

“Then let me into my ball. If I walk beside you, there’s a good chance that people will be watching, and we don’t know how far Ghetsis’ influence reaches. Even if I use an illusion ... it’s better to keep a low profile. We both know it's hard for me to not prank someone...” He pulled his nose back briefly. “Try going to a Pokémon Center to warm up and get medical treatment.”

His head was far too empty to do anything but nod speechlessly and follow Zoroark’s wishes. Sluggish movements stowed the Poké Balls in his trouser pocket, and as he set off, his stomach growled lonesomely towards nothingness.

Every step tugged at his bones, ate through his senses, and clouded every clear thought. Not even when he heard people in the immediate vicinity did he pause. His eyes travelled over signs, unable to read any of them. Icy draughts stiffened his fingers, breathing rasped in his throat, and whenever he tried to swallow, he tasted blood.

It was only when moist heat made itself felt on his upper lip and Natural ran the back of his hand over his mouth that he stopped. Deep red stuck to his skin. Smudged, thick. He pulled his nose back, staggered on, bumped his shoulder into someone else, and trembled at the contact. But he didn’t stop. No one spoke to him. No one turned around to look at him; until one of his knees gave way.

He hit the ground, his breath heavy on his lips. Heat burnt on his cheeks while weakness ate away at his muscles, and blood dripped to the ground. His vision blurred, moulding itself into an unsteady mosaic – just for the blink of an eye.

“Hey, you all right?”

Out of nowhere, a hand placed itself on Natural’s shoulder. Unfamiliar heat coursed through his body, giving him just enough strength to lift his head and look into golden eyes. White hair curled sporadically, stood on end, or resisted the elastic band that held part of it in place. A bit like his own.

“Where is this ... here?” Natural barely recognised his own voice as he squeezed out a few blunt words.

“Where..? Hey, hey... Are you sure everything’s all right?” His counterpart leant further towards him. Tanned skin promised a summer that Natural couldn’t seize, and when he countered the question with silence for too long, a sigh escaped the stranger. “Levincia. Paldea.”

Paldea. That was somewhere far away from Unova, from Ghetsis, from Plasma, and the dead Liepard.

“Do you need help?” the stranger asked again. “My friends and I docked nearby. You could rest and-”

Natural tuned him out for a second. Those eyes, this hair. Unlike his father. And yet, as the man’s grip on his shoulder tightened, the images in Natural’s head overlapped. Ghetsis’ punches ripped through him, unintelligible words came at him, and within a moment he was ramming the flat of his hands against his father’s chest. He pushed him away, trying to get up and run, but his legs wouldn’t move, and the image cleared.

His arms trembled as he recognised the stranger. He was sitting on his bum, his khaki-coloured trousers now probably saturated with cold.

Opening his mouth, Natural forced himself to say a curt “Sorry”. More seemed impossible. More sounded to his ears like an excuse that had long since been beaten out of him.

“No problem.”

Contrary to Natural’s expectations, the stranger waved it off before pulling himself back to his feet and brushing off his trousers. Then he held out his hand, and, for the blink of an eye, Natural stared in disbelief. This stranger was offering help. Just like that, even though he had pushed him away like a criminal.

“You coming?” Raising his brows, the man smiled at him – blindingly similar to the sun. “I don’t mean to be intrusive, but your nose is bleeding and ... man ... you look done. Besides ... your clothes aren’t made for an autumn walk. The Pokémon Center is crowded, and most of the hotels are closed.”

His words seemed credible. In such cold weather, only those who had important errands to run would be outside. Business and tasks, after which they would settle down in a room with a warm drink to watch the autumn through the window.

So Natural took the stranger’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. He was overcome by wavering uncertainty, which pulled at his muscles and robbed him of his balance, causing him to bump into the stranger. Strong arms held him upright.

“You all right?”

A snivelling sound of agreement escaped his throat, so the man at his side wrapped an arm around him and supported him as he walked. Simultaneously, Natural snuggled into the warmth emanating from another’s body almost automatically. It seemed to protect him from freezing but encouraged fatigue. His feet shuffled across the ground, and the rubbing sound crushed his mind.

Looking down, he surveyed the grey path and the white clouds he exhaled. At one point, he even looked at wood, and, as warmth washed over his whole body, he lifted his head. The world around him no longer seemed cold and grey. Surrounded by warm orange tiles, suffused with white paint, Natural recognised a shower, towels, and a fluffy-looking mat in front of a narrow bathtub.

“You should warm yourself up,” the stranger began as he let go of him and carefully placed him on a laundry box. “I’ll get you some clothes in the meantime. You’ll be alright?”

Natural nodded instead of answering, and as the nameless man gave him a thumbs up and disappeared, he found no desire to get up. Instead, he reached for a ball in his trouser pocket and summoned Zoroark to his aid.

Big ears wiggled briefly while his partner’s nose trembled. Then Zoroark let out a snort. “You seem to be lucky. The people here are friendly.”

“I should take a shower. To warm up.”

“With your injuries ... too painful,” the Pokémon replied. “But I can wash your hair and dab you with water if that helps.”

In the past, he had often let Pokémon help him in the bathroom. Back when he had been a little boy and couldn’t manage his tangled hair. Now it seemed reprehensible. He was no longer a jungle child. Pokémon shouldn’t have to help him just because he was weak and exhausted. But Zoroark shared none of these concerns.

His partner didn’t wait for approval. Deft paws wriggled Natural out of his clammy clothes, ridding him of the damp feeling of the outside world and sweeping away some of the chill. Then he propped him up to the bathtub, where Natural settled down and pulled his legs close to his torso, resting his head against his knees. He didn’t want to have to think any longer; and for a moment, he disconnected.

Wetness nestled against his scalp. His body throbbed. Sometimes the pain overwhelmed him and he coughed until the tears stung his lower lids. The scent of berries spread through the neighbourhood, and somewhere in between, the door opened.

“I’ll ... put the things here.” Briefly, the stranger poked his head through the door. Zoroark’s body seemed so broad in those seconds that Natural had to look around his partner to nod listlessly. “I’ll wait outside in case there’s anything.”

He closed the doorway in the same blink, and Natural’s head slumped back to his knees – until Zoroark forced him to his feet and dried him carefully. A short time later, he was sitting on the box again while the sound of a hairdryer buzzed in his ears and he slipped into clothes that weren’t his.

The uniform noise and Zoroark’s gentle touch soothed him. All tension disappeared. And when Natural faced the blackness behind his eyelids, it didn’t seem to consume him at all. No surprises. No memories. Only darkness.

 

---

》 HARMONIA 《

---

 

He opened his eyes as if an explosion had gone off within reach. His body sat up with a jerk, and as a pained gasp escaped his lips, warm hands gripped his shoulders and supported him briefly. Then a pillow was placed behind his back.

It took two slow blinks before Natural’s surroundings cleared and he realised the sofa beneath and the stranger in front of him. Zoroark was curled up at the foot of the seating area.

As the nameless man dropped back into his chair, a sigh escaped him. “Man, I thought I was going to have to unleash Mollie on you.”

He had no clue who Mollie was but avoided making a questioning sound.

“Your buddy here carried you out of the bathroom,” he nodded briefly to Zoroark, “and as soon as I made room for you on the sofa, you could barely keep still. Nightmare?”

“No...” The darkness had been peaceful. It had given him rest and turned the throbbing in his body into hot waves that washed over his skin with every breath. “Thank you...”

“No problem,” the stranger dismissed. “You should help each other where you can. Do you want to go somewhere? If it’s on the way, we’ll be happy to drop you off there. Or maybe you need help elsewhere?”

Natural shook his head hastily. “I can manage.”

The world was a big place. There were endless places to explore, and therefore, no fixed destination. He had promised Domino he would get to know the world and its Pokémon, but finding a place to start seemed impossible in a dimension that was completely unknown to him. His overconfidence had got the better of him.

“Do you even know where the journey is going?” The stranger’s brows drew together.

Natural shook his head almost unnoticed. He couldn’t say anything, couldn’t find an excuse in his woolly thoughts that sounded logical. He wanted to get away from Ghetsis and Team Plasma, but he didn’t want to have to talk about it. His parched throat warned him not to say too much. Perhaps because every word harboured danger. If he started talking now about anything, he’d come back to his father. To Liepard. To the whip, the pain, the tears, the words, the fear, the blood – to everything. And maybe, just maybe, he would open his mouth and never be able to stop screaming.

“All right!” Instead of asking further questions, the guy swung out of his chair. “I think we’ve all been travelling without a destination before.” He patted his chest with one hand. “If you want, you can travel with us until you find your way.”

Just like that, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Like the day Ghetsis adopted him. The boy from the forest.

Just like that.

“By the way,” the stranger pointed his thumb casually at himself, “I’m Friede. If you need anything, I’m your man!”

He laughed, and it took a moment for Natural to fully absorb the image in front of him. This guy there was similar to his father in some ways, but then again, he had a thousand things that made him different. A bit like Domino, whose kindness had pleaded for his own will.

And for a moment, this world, outside of Pokémon, became inviting enough to accept Friede’s offer.

As a result, Natural found himself sitting at a large table with others a short time later. The people on this ship were a colourful bunch, each with a task or a goal. There was Orio, the mechanic, with a beautiful smile. Mollie, the doctor, ready to help any Pokémon or human in need. The children Liko, Roy, and Dot, the latter only wandering around the table via Rotom’s voice output. The chef, Murdock, with a thunderous laugh. An old man who always stayed outside with his fishing rod, and an old lady called Diana, whose raspy voice travelled cheerfully around the room.

In the middle of all this, Pokémon were buzzing around. Food was being handed out, conversations were happening at every corner. Even Zoroark took the opportunity to join the others. Only Natural remained behind – trapped like a lonely Minccino, surrounded by a thousand others of its kind who gave it no room to fit in.

Still, he survived the dinner with few words. They contented themselves with his name, his origins, and his desire to travel around the world. Nobody demanded too much. No one put him in the spotlight. Not like the members of Plasma, who had always worshipped him for no reason. Here he was just one of many. Liberatingly unimportant and crushingly out of place.

It was only when Friede led him to a room he could call his own that the tension slowly slipped away. The heavy iron door reminded him of his childhood bedroom, and yet the interior was drastically different from the images of his past.

Alone with Zoroark within these four walls, the world turned a little slower. The heat on his skin cooled constantly, only to heat up again, and his blood boiled with every movement. Everything inside him was labouring, so he let himself fall onto the bed, felt the soft sheets under his fingers, and buried his face in his hands immediately afterward.

“Are you all right?” Zoroark’s concern reached him only faintly.

“I’m just tired,” he replied. “It’s very different here.”

“Different from Team Plasma?”

“And also different from the forest or the vast meadows under an open sky.”

“There are no toys here.” A snort from Zoroark filled the room. “No worn carpet, no bed that was already too small for you at thirteen, no toy railway, no tiny field to play ball on, no box full of stuffed animals and building blocks... All that is behind you.”

Natural slowly released his face from his hands. He had never let himself down like this before. But suddenly, all alone, without a home and a task, there was no longer any reason to pretend he could handle all the thoughts and all the vague feelings on his own. In those breaths, he relied on Zoroark.

“The last time I slept in a bed was ... seven years ago,” he began thoughtfully. “Shortly after I turned fourteen.” His hand rested on the sheets. “It’s ... different here.”

On the floor; half curled up, Zoroark’s mane lifted a little. “No one says you have to get used to everything in one day.”

He probably didn’t have to, and even though the bed looked cosy, Natural pushed himself off the mattress and joined Zoroark on the floor. Snuggled up close to his Pokémon, there was warmth, peace, and the familiar smell of moss and meadow. A scent he remembered from his childhood, when he had fallen asleep among the other Pokémon.

And again, in these breaths, sleep seemed to take him easily. The restlessness inside him subsided, and the flight reflex disappeared. Only exhaustion remained to guide him through the dark world behind his eyelids.

 

---

》HARMONIA 《

---

 

Sweat covered his hands. Cake crumbs still clung to the corners of his mouth, and while Ghetsis looked down at him as if he were a rowdy Zorua, his two stepsiblings kept their heads bowed. Father had beaten them both as a reminder that lying was why the world suffered.

“Harmonia, I told you the desserts were for our guests, not for you and the Pokémon.” The walking stick was firmly in his hands. He didn’t always carry it with him, but on some days when one of his legs hurt, this piece of wood accompanied him. “What were you thinking?”

Natural lowered his eyes briefly. Heat burnt in his cheeks, and he barely suppressed the attempt to lick his lips to taste the last bit of icing.

“They looked so delicious,” he replied slowly. “And I wanted so much to share them with my friends.”

“Would you like some more for your friends?”

Natural immediately raised his eyes. For a moment, the shame faded. His father was prepared to accept the offence and let him off with a simple reprimand.

“There’s something else here. Hold out your hands.” Ghetsis casually bent over the cupboard to his side and grabbed a muffin. Natural, meanwhile, held out his hands.

In the next breath, the muffin hit him in the face.

Overwhelmed by the sudden action, he moved too slowly. In the next blink, glistening pain shot through his fingers, and Ghetsis’ walking stick thundered to the ground. A scream escaped Natural’s lips as he pulled his hands back and noticed his fiery red fingers. The wood had run across his palms. But a single blow wasn’t enough, so Ghetsis grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up onto his toes. As he did, he bent down to Natural. Sweet breath settled on the boy’s cheeks.

“I remember teaching you that restraint is not compatible with gluttony. Not only that, but I can’t help but wonder what you were thinking when you shared the desserts with the Pokémon when not every ingredient in them is digestible for the sensitive stomachs of these creatures.” He tugged harder on Natural’s hair. “I think you know some foods are poison for Pokémon.”

“Anthea said the Pokémon could eat them without a problem.” Raising his hands, Natural tried to loosen his father’s rigid grip.

“It doesn’t matter what Anthea said,” Ghetsis countered. “You acted rashly and got involved in something you didn’t confirm yourself. You simply relied on the words of others. That’s exactly what gets Pokémon into their awful state. Someone makes a claim, and everyone believes it, while they fail to see that the truth is different.”

All at once, Ghetsis let go of him, causing Natural to stumble back a few steps.

“You are eight. You should understand this much. It may seem like a minor thing, but in reality, the damage caused is much greater.”

A faint nod came over Natural. His father was right. He had wanted to believe Anthea, but it was important to double-check everything himself. All of him had wanted to get to the cake, and he had lost sight of the most important steps.

“I’m sorry...”

“If you realise this, I’m glad you understand. But a misdeed shouldn’t go unpunished. You are aware of that, aren’t you?”

His small hands clenched into fists, he nodded. “I know.”

“I’ll give you the choice to prove there is a prince in you who will one day be worthy of the position of king. Show me you can take responsibility.”

Pressing his lips together, Natural stared at his father as if he wanted to burn the last words into him. The skin on his arms turned pocky, and the racing of his heart brought tears to his eyes. But no matter what punishment he would receive, it was nothing compared to the danger he had put his friends in.

“Harmonia, you will be without food for three days,” Ghetsis revealed to him. “This is your punishment for stealing something that didn’t belong to you. You will also receive a hit with the stick for every Pokémon you put in danger with your decision.”

Twelve hits were fair. Twelve hits he could take.

“Your sisters will also receive these because they gave away food they should have kept. They will also go without food for three days. But you can take some of the burden off their shoulders.” His father raised a finger instructively. “You have three choices.”

That was more than Natural had ever imagined.

“You can unburden your sisters from starving. They’re three years older than you. Of course, they want to fulfil their little brother’s every wish, no matter how foolish it may be. You have enjoyed their good hearts and deliberately put them in trouble. For that, you would go without food for nine days.”

Nine days. That was a long time. Ghetsis had starved him for two days once before, and Natural had often thought he wouldn’t be able to stop crying because his stomach had hurt so much.

“Or you could be a hero to your sisters and take their hits to emphasise that you’ve all made a mistake. You would convey that you stand by your actions but want to remind everyone that your sisters only acted at your request and shouldn’t be punished for their kindness. Your hits would increase to thirty-six.”

Natural swallowed. Whenever Ghetsis beat him, five hits with the cane seemed barely bearable without screaming. Ten swings would rob him of all feeling. So he could withstand twelve of them – barely. More seemed impossible.

“Of course, you are free to accept the punishment as it is. In that case, everyone will get what I have assigned to them,” Ghetsis concluded.

The choice was vast, and yet nothing seemed to fit. He would probably not survive with the first choice. His father certainly wouldn’t let him die, but he didn’t want to imagine the consequences afterwards. Anthea and Concordia would survive three days of hunger – for sure.

With the second option, the chances were hardly any better. But watching Ghetsis beat the other two sounded like a nightmare that Natural couldn’t imagine. Then again, he could barely withstand his father’s violence himself. Thirty-six blows sent a cold shiver down his spine.

But if he left everything as it was, would he really be able to become king one day? All of this had happened mainly because of him. However, there was also the question of the right path to take. Was a king benevolent, or was he insightful? Did he bow his head for others, or did he accept everyone’s punishment? Was he the shield of his friends, or the sword of order?

“I... Uh...” He looked at his sisters, who still weren’t facing him. Protecting someone seemed impossible. “I... keep the punishment ... as it is...”

A heavy sigh washed over Ghetsis. “I’m disappointed, Harmonia.”

And with that, his father turned away from him, lifted his walking stick, and slammed it into Anthea’s face. Her pink mop of hair snapped to the side.

Natural’s body trembled with every breath. He raised his hands above his head. Anthea’s screams thundered in his ears and his own sobs burnt in his throat. He had failed his father, and yet he crept backwards, hoping to escape the beating.

“You need to wake up!” Ghetsis’ voice remained unyielding. Anthea and Concordia disappeared. Suddenly there were only the two of them, and when his father placed a hand on his shoulder, Natural’s entire frame flinched.

His body showed reflexes that didn’t seem comparable to his usual movements. His tiny fist shot forwards, striking Ghetsis’ cheek, and although he felt as weak as a Caterpie, his father crashed onto his behind.

“Damn!” Instantly, he felt for his cheek. “Nice punch...”

Natural wanted to open his mouth, beg, try again, and escape the rage. He had done that many times before, and on some days it had worked. But Ghetsis’ words seeped through his mind like tar until he blinked a few times and realised the darkness in the room. The only bit of light crept through an open metal door.

The saliva on his tongue tasted stale as he looked down at his hands, which were suddenly no longer small. They shook like they had back then, but they were big enough to hold a Zorua.

Slowly, Natural’s gaze drifted around the room. There was the unused bed. Close to the door stood Zoroark. There was a desk, a shelf. And there was Friede, sitting two steps in front of him, his cheek red and his upper lip chapped at one corner.

“I’m... I’m so sorry!” Immediately, Natural pushed to his knees, unable to do anything.

Meanwhile, Friede shrugged it off. “I’ll survive.” A soft laugh broke from him. “As long as you don’t smash my nose. Mollie would probably scold me for the next four weeks.”

Another laugh settled on his features, causing Natural to slide back onto his bottom. He had hit someone, but this person in front of him wasn’t punishing him for it. Instead, he took it with a pinch of humour that seemed utterly absurd yet alluring as it swept through the room. It was strange, but in those seconds, Friede reminded him of sunshine. Of warm spring days that chased away any cold and lured the first flower buds out of the ground.

“But hey ... you must have been through a lot if your nightmares are bad enough for me to hear them right into the next room.” Finally, Friede’s laughter died down, and his brows drew together loosely. “If you ever want to talk about it, well ... yeah,” he scratched the back of his head, “you can rely on me. I’m a pretty good listener ... sometimes.”

In any other situation, he would probably have turned down the offer. After Anthea and Concordia had asked him to keep Ghetsis’ behaviour to himself, not a word had ever crossed his lips. Probably because there was nothing to tell. His father had been hard on him sometimes. But it was all for his own good.

Who was interested in that, anyway? In a story consisting only of a child’s missteps?

Still, he nodded as if there was hope for relief from this almost-stranger, that one day he would find the right path for himself. There was no doubt in his mind that Friede would still be at his side then, with an open ear and helpful words. Probably because he was nice. In this respect, he was strangely similar to Domino.

But the confused thoughts still didn’t leave Natural. The heat of the nightmare still clung to his body, and every inch of his skin throbbed. His throat seemed parched, and when he tried to pull himself together to get to Zoroark, his legs instantly gave way.

Fatigue hung deep in his bones. Sweat dripped to the ground. Friede asked something, but Natural didn’t even understand half of it. Instead, the world seemed to tilt, and when a dull thud reached him, he realised too late that he was lying hunched over on the floor.

Not a single sound escaped him. There was only loud breathing. Seconds of silence until hands grabbed him and dragged him into an upright position. Golden eyes regarded him with concern, and he heard the next words almost too clearly.

“I’m taking you to Mollie!”

Chapter 3: Wishful Thinking

》Oh, child of the sun, you’re not him.
Not the father who beat me.
Not the friend who banished me.
Not the oath that strangled me.
You are not my enemy.《

 

The cream burnt like fire. Every cell in his body screamed under the bruises, red welts, and his inflamed back that Mollie had noticed with a gasp. Simultaneously, there was this strange odour in the air; a yellow liquid she wiped from his shoulder blades with a cloth. Still, she didn’t ask questions.

Clutching his fingers in his trouser legs, he gritted his teeth to swallow the pinpricks. Friede was missing. Mollie had sent him away after Natural had refused to take off his top. The shame of exposing those nasty parts of his body to several people had stopped him.

“The cream will cool your injuries.” Out of nowhere, Mollie snapped him out of his thoughts. “It will take a while to heal, and ... there will be scars.” With nimble fingers, she put a bandage on him. “I’ll watch the wounds. The bandage needs to be changed every day, and before putting on new ones, we need to leave them off for at least two hours to dry any new wet spots.”

He nodded with difficulty. Medicine and first aid were beyond his knowledge. Anthea and Concordia had always been responsible for his health and care at the castle.

“Take this.” Once again, Mollie pulled him out of his thoughts as she pressed some lozenges into his hand. “They’ll ease the pain and bring down the fever.”

“Thank you.” His voice just a whisper, Natural shoved himself back into his clothes.

The bandages constricted him, his body ached, and the overpowering fatigue still clung to him. But the few hours of sleep were enough to keep him from succumbing to the weakness. This time it seemed easier to get up and walk through the door outside, where Friede awaited him.

“All right?” Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he raised a brow. “Was Mollie able to help?”

Instead of answering, he nodded gently, so Friede pushed off the wall and fell into line beside him. A strangely friendly gesture he only knew from his stepsisters. They had brought him to bed every day, always accompanying him from the dining hall to his room.

“You don’t have to do ... this,” Natural finally said. “I feel well enough to find the way back on my own.”

“I guess so, but my room’s right next door, so there’s no harm in going together, is there?” A grin spread across Friede’s features as Naturals’ eyes widened. “If I hadn’t been right next door, I wouldn’t have heard your screams.”

He opened his mouth in a flash, only to close it silently. The blurred image shortly after he had woken up became clearer. This man had been checking on him because he had been shouting. Moaning and frightened enough to hit someone else half asleep.

His eyelids drooped. “Did I ... say something when I ... screamed?”

For a moment, Friede stared at him. His senses seemed to grasp something, to read and interpret the words, which Natural only noticed out of the corner of his eye but didn’t understand. His companion remained too unclear, too strange, and too suspicious with all his help and offers.

“No,” Friede finally replied. “Not a word.”

A sound of relief rolled over Naturals’ lips and yet remained so silent that it only buzzed in his ears. If he hadn’t said anything, he wouldn’t be ambushed with any more questions. The quiet that prevailed would remain, and he would have time to think. He had to sort out the circumstances, compose himself, and leave this ship as quickly as possible so as not to be a burden to anyone. On top, he had to find people he could trust. Souls he chose and not people like Friede, who surprised him with kindness as if it were normal. It wasn’t. Most demanded something in return.

Like his father, like all of Team Plasma, like the elders, and maybe even like Domino – even if the latter had been in the right. Everyone was acting with an ulterior motive, and part of him didn’t want to know what Friede was pursuing.

When they arrived outside his room, the darkness behind the door seemed to promise salvation and torture all in one, so he paused on the threshold for a breath.

“Hey, you’re sure everything’s fine?” Friede turned to him again, partway to his own room.

Natural didn’t answer. In those blinks, he had no clue if the darkness where Zoroark waited for him half-asleep was really okay. Goosebumps pressed against his bandages. His heart pounded hard against his ribcage, and when he glanced at Friede, he met the warmth of his eyes once more.

“Would you like me to stay for a while?” He reached a hand to the back of his head. “Until you’re asleep, and I’m sure the rest of the night will be quiet?”

A tempting offer that also seemed dangerous. While he slept, it would be possible to do things to him against which resistance would be too late. He knew it from Ghetsis; from the evenings when his father had strangled him, driven by anger and frustrated by the wild behaviour he had often exhibited as a young boy. And he also knew it from his sisters, who had often undressed him in his sleep in order to treat his wounds and praise his supposedly good healing flesh the next day. When he slept, he opened all doors to violence and lies. And even if he deserved both, his mind refused to allow any more.

Again, Natural glanced into the room. Compared to the days in the castle, there was a difference. Zoroark was curled up in a corner, his ears perked on alert. If Friede tried anything, there would be a friend. A helping hand he could rely on.

The certainty dulled the fear. If he inserted Zoroark into this constellation, he would be safe. And with Friede, he might conquer the nightmares for a few hours.

Still, his voice sounded parched. “If it’s ... no trouble.”

“Absolutely not!” Hands on hips, Friede sauntered back in his direction. “No big deal.”

For this man, there seemed to be no limit and no reason to distrust others. He followed him into the room, into the darkness, which Natural didn’t even try to dispel with the light switch. Friede simply pulled out his Rotom Phone and switched on the flashlight – a natural action in an unnatural situation with better options and no way out.

Just as Natural was about to settle down next to Zoroark, however, Friede grabbed him by the arm. “Hey, you shouldn’t sleep on the floor.”

“It’s the most natural way to rest,” Natural replied tonelessly. It probably wasn’t for a human, but it was better than reliving the memories that came to him between soft fabric and warm blankets.

“Your injuries must be bad, considering Mollie spent an entire hour on you,” he said. Mouth twisted, Friede lowered his eyelids. “I can understand your discomfort here, but it’s important you give your body a chance to recover. The bed is your best bet, and if you’re afraid of anything, I’ll be there to help.” He placed a hand flat on his chest. “Trust me, you’re not alone.”

Had he ever been? Alone and unobserved?

In all his years, someone had watched him. In the forest, it had been his friends, making sure nothing happened to him. In the castle, it had sometimes been Zoroark, on particularly bad days. Occasionally his two stepsisters, who only wanted the best for him. Rarely even his father, laden with cruel stories of the mistreatment of the Pokémon, until he had slipped into nightmares. Every day, every hour, someone had watched him – unspoken promises he had never agreed to and yet had somehow taken for granted.

“If there’s a problem ... wake me up, please.” Still, Natural shuffled to the bed to lie between the beguilingly soft fabrics.

Friede, meanwhile, sat down in front of the bed. “Leave it to me!”

In the next moment, the light of Rotom went out, and only the presence of another flickered over Natural’s skin. The strangely heavy feeling that there was someone else in this room, scrutinising the blackness and making no sound, fluttered unpleasantly in his stomach.

“Why ... are you being so nice to me? I have little to give and offer no information. My existence as a human doesn’t promise any interesting research like Pokémon do, and you don’t know the first thing about me.” He buried his hands in the pillow. “I’ve learnt that most humans have little humanity.”

“Did you find that out for yourself? That most humans are like that?”

“I don’t know.” Natural swallowed.

He was level-headed enough to know that Ghetsis had been inhuman at times – at least at the moment he had killed Liepard. But his stepsisters and Domino and the nice baker at the Pokémon Center, as well as Nurse Joy, had been very welcoming. Much friendlier than Unova’s actors and much more honest than all those who sent their Pokémon into battle with a smile and claimed there was no other way around it.

“Some of them are. Others of them aren’t. I ... can’t say who’s in the majority. But it feels like it’s the inhuman ones.”

“Because bad things stick in our memories.” Friede’s sigh pierced through the darkness. “The human brain isn’t a friendly companion. It twists our surroundings and trips us up when least needed.”

Natural let out a melodic hum. He didn’t know about influences within himself. Ghetsis had never wasted time with these things. There had only ever been the same teachings: humans are cruel to Pokémon, taking advantage of them and sending them to their deaths – just as humans do to each other. Deceit and deception went hand in hand.

“To come back to your question ... what I get out of helping you is a clear conscience.” Barely audible laughter rippled through the room. “I’m just not the type to abandon someone in need if there’s something I can do.”

“That’s it?”

“If I can think of anything else, you’ll be the first to know.”

It was something he should take seriously, sit up and ask, but part of him thought he saw Friede smile at those words. Like a joke that needed no further explanation because the truth already stood between them. It was hard to understand, but the tingling sensation on his skin faded and the fluttering in his stomach subsided. His body wanted to trust. His mind followed suit.

Slowly, Natural closed his eyes. Every fibre in him relaxed, and when he thought he saw someone standing at the other end of the blackness, he started running. Somehow and then again, somehow not. The only thing he realised after a few metres was that someone was turning their back on him. Someone was turning away from him. So he stopped. Then he reached out and heard his father’s voice.

“You disappoint me, Harmonia.”

 

---

》 HARMONIA 《

---

 

When he opened his eyes, his lids felt as heavy as lead. Exhaustion still ate away at his nerves, and yet sober realisation lurked above him. In those breaths, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, Ghetsis seemed a little less understandable. A little more like a villain and yet still no less like a father.

A sigh washed over him at the thought. Thinking about this relationship wasn’t the adventure he had imagined. Somewhere in the middle of all his ideas, the image of seeing the world and showing Ghetsis that Plasma was wrong had arisen. In that way, everyone would experience a slight change; they would start in the right places, and everything would have a happy ending. No more beatings. No more rage. Liepard would still be alive, and he would make lots of new friends.

Wishful thinking. Nothing but wishful thinking.

Sluggishly, Natural sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with both hands. Then his gaze fell on Friede – on his relaxed figure leaning against the edge of the bed, still asleep. Natural pushed forward with a barely perceptible movement, took one look at his face, and opened his mouth. There were no words. Instead, he watched this stranger.

He looked at the closed eyes with the short, black eyelashes; the slightly raised corners of his mouth with its gentle smile. Each quiet breath gave him the appearance of a safe haven – a little like the quiet depths of the sea and the warm embrace of the world.

Natural swallowed. His heart beat firmly against his ribs, as if it wanted to come out. A bit like all those moments when he had fallen in love with something. With Zoroark’s mischievousness, when he had still been a Zorua. With Domino, his first conversation partner outside of Plasma. And right now, with Friede.

Raising his brows, he moved a little closer to hear his soft snoring. It sounded throaty, like the bumpy purr of a Purugly, but it had charm.

“Why are you smiling?” Zoroark’s question pulled him out of his little world, causing Natural to throw himself back on the pillow and put a hand over his mouth. The strangely misplaced joy had actually crept up to his lips.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “Looking at him ... I liked it.”

“Because he’s fascinating?”

His shoulders tensed. He had never seen another person sleeping. Maybe that’s why Friede seemed so vulnerable and safe at the same time. So he nodded.

“Friede is a good guy,” Zoroark reminded him. “You should try to trust him. Just like you did with Domino. Then we’ll soon be able to spook other people, and we’ll even have a sidekick!”

“What makes you so sure that I can trust him?”

His friend gently tapped his nose. “I can smell it, you know that.”

He did, and yet he had never once trusted his friend’s sense of smell. Zoroark had never seen anything good in Ghetsis, and he had also disliked some members of Plasma. Yet Natural had always pleaded for the good in them – trust that hadn’t been repaid. Perhaps it was better, for once, to believe that Zoroark knew better than he. Still...

“Do I need any more friends besides you and all the other Pokémon in the world?”

“Who knows?” Zoroark shrugged. “Maybe it’ll come in handy one day.”

A snort overcame Natural. People were as different as night and day, he could only keep reminding himself. But his father’s teachings remained unshakeable; Ghetsis’ action against Liepard as well. The certainty that all these things were normal and yet didn’t feel right, while in some breaths he thought he saw his father in the faces of other men, choked his throat. His eyes burnt. How did one gain confidence in a world whose appearance seemed cruel?

Everything Domino had said seemed like a fairy tale – and then again, like reality. Zoroark believed in the good. Friede conveyed the image of a decent human being. The Pokémon in this place were happy. All he had to do was open up and embrace this change – but there were clouds in his head. Liepard had been shot because of him. His body suffered from all the wounds he had deserved – somehow. And among the Rising Volt Tacklers, he seemed like a shadow of a man he wanted to be and wasn’t.

The tired murmur of another ended the thoughts. Friede’s eyelids fluttered slightly, and as he stretched his arms and his shoulders cracked, Natural sat up. In the next blink, Friede glanced over his shoulder to utter a yawed “Good morning”. A simple gesture that made Natural’s heart leap before he returned the irrelevant greeting.

“Did you get some sleep?” Leaning forward, Friede scratched the back of his head. “I have to admit, I was out fast.”

“A little, thank you.”

“Shall we go to breakfast? Of course, only after Mollie has changed your bandages and I’ve,” he sniffed his black jumper briefly, “had a shower...”

“You have set times for these things?” In Team Plasma, people always ate when it was convenient – apart from the canteen at headquarters, where very few people ever found peace.

“No.” Friede waved him off. “But if we need something, Murdock is happy to do it. He loves cooking and baking. Without him, the kitchen on this ship would probably only be half as good, and we’d all be a bit more hectic on a day-to-day basis to master cooking.” A laugh escaped him. “Murdock is our lifesaver when it comes to food.”

Natural struggled to smile. Friede’s story sounded marvellous. Harmonious enough to tear tiny holes into the dark clouds and shed some light.

“Breakfast sounds great.”

Chapter 4: Grief

》You know dark clouds harbour tears.
They carry your sorrow, my pain,
children's broken hearts, and despair.
They let out what you swallow every day.
Tell me, my child, when will you let go?《

 

Counting the days and nights seemed impossible without going a little mad. Part of him wanted to record them on a list so as not to lose track. The rest relied on Zoroark’s statements and clues – the weeks that had simply come and gone, as if he hadn’t been there. Even the joyous moments between the Rising Volt Tacklers on Halloween had passed him by like a fever dream. The only thing he understood was that the cold was pressing more insistently through the cracks with each passing day.

Looking down at his hands, Natural clenched them into fists, only to loosen them again. Since the night with Friede in front of his bed, his nightmares had become lighter. At least he no longer woke up to someone else’s desperate shaking.

“Looks good,” Mollie commented behind him. “All the wounds have dried, the inflammation is gone and most of the areas are almost healed.” She stood up and walked round him, a small smile on her lips. “The scars will barely be noticeable, and if anything should open up again, Chansey can heal the injury without problems.”

“I’ll do my best!” the pink Pokémon added, raising a thick arm before cheerfully grabbing the bandages as if it was already going to treat him.

“Sounds good.” His enthusiasm was lacking, and yet, for a breath, he was surrounded by the lightness that always appeared when he got a little too involved with the people on board this ship. They were nice and so colourful and cheerful that they infected him on some days.

However, the spell only lasted a moment before someone ripped open the door and burst into the room, causing Natural to grab a nearby blanket and hide his battered body. In the next blink, his expression met Friede’s, in whose hands rested a Rotom Phone.

“I hope I’m not coming at a bad time.” He raised a hand apologetically before smiling at Natural. “But why the blanket?” Awkward laughter swept over him, and before Natural knew how to answer, Mollie stood up to brace herself in front of Friede, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“You should work on your behaviour.” Mouth twisted, she tilted her head. “What’s so important that you’re rushing in here?”

“I’ve received an update on our job,” Friede began more seriously than before, “along with a ... considerable advance payment.”

“Because of the girl?”

He nodded. “I passed on the encounter in the Galar mines to him and explained that it could be very difficult to free her from the hands of the Explorers, but he insisted and paid us another significant sum in return.”

He wanted to interject, wanted to say something, to make sure they were talking about Domino, but the conversation didn’t allow for a gap. So Natural bit his tongue.

“And you took it because you knew we needed the money,” Mollie added. “We should have looked for other jobs.”

“Maybe this way we’ll get one step closer to the Six Heroes.”

“In what way?”

“Dot has been working on gathering information and found out that the Explorers – Amethio and his team – will make their way to Hoenn as soon as the new year begins.” A quick snort escaped him as he put a hand to his side. “Whatever they’re planning, maybe it’s best to watch them.”

“She’s fine.” Against the silence he had wanted to sit out inside, the comment came off his tongue.

“What?” Friede immediately turned to him, and Mollie seemed to look down on him as well.

“Domino,” Natural added. “You’re talking about Domino, aren’t you?”

Friede nodded hastily. “She fell into the hands of the Explorers. You know her?”

“We’re friends.” Only the thought left him with a hint of warmth. Right now, he didn’t possess a Rotom Phone or remember her number. There was no way to call her and gain extra security, which collapsed with every passing nightmare. “She helped me a lot in Unova. The Explorers are good to her, and she likes being with them.”

“At least that’s good.” A sigh settled on Mollie’s face. “According to her father, the Explorers kidnapped her.”

Quickly, Natural shook his head. “She joined them because she wanted to be free. To take that dream away from her ... that’s not right. She would never voluntarily leave her team, and she’s in good hands with them.”

“She’s not,” Friede countered. “We don’t know much about the Explorers, but they’re a mysterious, dangerous group who are after one of our Pokémon. They’re up to something, and I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“A feeling is nothing more than that. No proof and no reason.” Natural finally lowered the blanket and reached for his jumper. For a moment, his battered body no longer mattered.

He knew the consequences of prejudice. Accusations without proof, without having investigated anything himself, were nothing more than poison that eventually led to ill decisions and compulsions. That was how it had been with him, caught up in all his father’s words, which he had never seen for himself; not to this extent. And it was probably the same for Ghetsis, who had clung to something without checking the facts first.

Perhaps he was simply prepared to believe anything as long as it led far away from the cell, the Liepard, and the last few years of confusion. Images that didn’t fit together and decorated themselves with a sense of understanding he probably shouldn’t possess and yet did. It kept catching up with him. Like an old rule he wasn’t allowed to break.

“We’re not done with your-” Before Mollie could finish her sentence, Natural waved her off. Then he brushed past Friede in casual strides towards the door.

Something inside him longed for fresh air, for freedom, which he couldn’t find in this almost sterile-smelling room. Burying his hands in his trouser pockets, he disappeared into the corridor, shuffling along the wooden floorboards to an exit that led to a wide area with enough space for fights and games.

“You look stressed.”

A glance over his shoulder brought Zoroark into view, to whom Natural gave a tired smile before lowering his eyelids. “Probably.”

“Are the humans to blame?”

“They’re looking for Domino.”

“Why?”

“To save her from something she doesn’t want to be saved from.” He snorted. “A bit like Plasma trying to help the Pokémon in a way they didn’t want.” Again he looked at the wide open space. Two children had teamed up, barely older than fourteen. “It makes me wonder if the people of the world are all pursuing similar goals in different ways.”

“Maybe it’s just a coincidence.” Zoroark shrugged. “You shouldn’t think about it. We haven’t had fun in a very long time.” He moved closer. “Be sunny again. You’ve got it good here. You can let go!”

“Sunny?” A smirk crept onto Natural's lips.

“Cheerful. Just like back then.”

Like the days when they had played tricks on his stepsisters. The hours when they had laughed and raved as if the world would end tomorrow. He remembered those moments. All the extra trouble they had sat out together and all the little offences that hadn’t been punished harshly, so they had sometimes swapped places. Zoroark as a second Natural, and he himself hidden between branches and leaves.

“You’re very patient,” he noted slowly. Zoroark was playful, constantly looking to annoy someone. But ever since he had been in the cell, his best friend had held back. “I’m sorry.”

Zoroark threw his body against him, causing his soft fur to tickle his nose. “Don’t apologise. Just go back to being you.”

“I’m... working on it.” He nuzzled his head against the black hair. “I just need a little more time. Can you wait that long?”

“Of course!” He put his arms around Natural. “Forever through thick and thin.”

A vow they had made when Natural had been just eight and Zoroark had still been a Zorua.

“Forever...”

“Let’s watch!” In the next breath, Zoroark broke away from him, his gaze fixed on the children whose Pokémon stood ready to fight.

Watching was cruel. Natural recalled his own battles, the fact humans resolved conflicts with Pokémon instead of raising a hand themselves. Ghetsis had once explained it: if a trainer was injured in a fight, it was an accident. Then again, if you hit someone in the face, it was considered assault, and you could be punished for it. Almost everything became a little more legal if you simply sent a Pokémon ahead.

Still, Zoroark stormed out through the framed glass door, leaving Natural dragging behind his friend. Thinking back to the battle with Domino and her match against that guy at her side, he realised even things like that held a certain appeal for some Pokémon. Until now, he had never listened to his friends in a fight. The others had always been more important – everyone he had thought was trapped and injured.

The few steps down to the wide training area greeted him with cool air, which at least made him aware he was still conscious. On the lowest one, he settled down. Zoroark found space on the ground in front of his feet, his eyes fixed on the action.

The battle unfolding before them was similar to those he had sometimes witnessed between other trainers – all those he had walked past with a furrowed brow, not knowing what to make of it. The Pokémon’s words had stuck in his head in disbelief back then, and a part of him hadn’t wanted to accept them.

This time, it was different. He listened as Liko commanded her Sprigatito with the first attack, dodging the ember of Fuecoco. With lightning speed, it chased forward, rammed its opponent and landed gallantly in front of its trainer – its nose raised.

“Hah! You have no chance of winning this fight!” Its chest fur puffed out, and Natural recognised a girl’s voice.

In complete contrast to the Fuecoco, who struggled to get back on its feet. “I do!”

“As if!”

“Can do this! Am strong!”

“Not stronger than me!”

A smile appeared on Naturals’ lips. There was a healthy rivalry between the two Pokémon, a bit like it had sometimes been between him and Zoroark when they had been fishing.

“This Sprigatito is good,” his best friend commented somewhere in between, while the Grass-type Pokémon conjured a storm of leaves that almost swept the Fuecoco off its feet.

“It’s at a disadvantage,” Natural replied. “If Fuecoco releases fire now, the leaves will set each other on fire and create a storm of flames that would reach Sprigatito.”

But it seemed too fearful for this plan, and the lack of orders from Roy didn’t improve matters. Together they endured the storm before Fuecoco tried his hand at stomping tantrum, driving the Sprigatito from one corner to the next.

“Coward! Come here and attack me properly!”

“You come here!”

“I’d wait until it’s tired of stomping and then attack,” Zoroark continued. “Or maybe I’d run around it until it feels sick and then scare it from behind.” He giggled. “Then I’ll win because it’ll fall over in fright!”

“I don’t think this Fuecoco will give up that easily.” Resting his head in a hand, Natural propped himself up on one leg. “Maybe it would blow a flamethrower in your face out of sheer terror.”

“I’m flexible! I’ll just lean back at the right moment!”

“That won’t save you.”

Without further ado, Zoroark puffed out his cheeks. “You can extinguish the rest of the fire, then.”

Unintentional, half-swallowed laughter washed over Natural before he opened his mouth, ready to continue this nonsensical discussion, when someone sat down diagonally behind him.

“What are you talking about?” Leaning slightly forwards, Friede drew attention to himself.

The clarity of the moment, the certainty of not having to worry for one second, brought the conversation to the front of his mind. In those breaths, there was no oppressive tightness in Naturals’ chest, nothing to hold him back as he replied, “Zoroark thinks he could take on a sudden flamethrower from Fuecoco.”

“I know I can!” his mate protested, and another stifled laugh escaped Natural; restrained, yet pleasantly warm on his lips.

Friede, meanwhile, raised his brows. “You ... really understand what it’s saying?”

Opening his mouth, the next words caught in his throat. He remembered his father’s praise of his gift and also that communicating with Pokémon in his way was unusual. Very few humans understood their partners. Even Domino had had to make compromises.

“It’s ... unusual.” Natural awkwardly wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers. “But yes, I understand what Pokémon say. I grew up ... with them. It was the first language I learnt to understand.”

“That’s incredible!” Friede’s enthusiasm spilled over as if Natural was something special. “Probably even unique. I’ve travelled a lot, and I’ve never met anyone who could actually speak to Pokémon.”

“It’s not unique,” Natural disagreed slowly. “Domino can do it, too. She knows how to talk to Legendary Pokémon.”

With Zekrom, which was still resting in its Poké Ball, and also with Reshiram, which had sided with her in Unova.

“That’s probably why she’s with the Explorers...” Friede muttered. “They probably want to research her gift... I can’t blame them, even if I don’t trust their means to do so.”

Research – a desire shared by many. Natural realised that. The curiosity of others had always been an integral part of his environment. His father had prepared him for it.

 

“Harmonia, what makes you special is your ability to talk to Pokémon.” Hard, Ghetsis slammed the end of his walking stick to the ground. “It’s the potential you need to become King of Unova and convince the people of an ideal world in your hands.”

He tried to stay attentive, but outside the sun was shining, his friends were playing with each other and he was the only one sitting trapped in his room, listening to his father’s words again. Sure, helping the Pokémon was important, he had understood that. But in those breaths, the air was stuffy, and he wasn’t being told anything new.

“Harmonia!”

His father’s sudden exclamation made Naturals’ whole body flinch. If he allowed himself to get too distracted, he would get in trouble – well-deserved – and that was the last thing he needed on his eleventh birthday.

“It’s important that you listen to my words and do as I advise!” The stick slammed to the ground again. “I care about your well-being. You are my son, a gift entrusted to me in the face of this corrupt world. I only ever wish the best for you!”

“Yes, I know,” he replied sheepishly, looking down. It was probably one of those moments when he was ungrateful. Ghetsis had already mentioned it more than once when he preferred to look at the outside world instead of showing interest. Ungratefulness wasn’t worthy of him.

“You don’t have to worry that the world won’t understand you. If my calculations work out, you won’t be walking this path alone for long until you find a companion for life.” Ghetsis‘ hand rested heavily on Natural’s mop of hair. “And then you will teach the language of the Pokémon, pass it on and create a foundation on your own efforts.”

Just as he had been taught – like all those days in the lab when they had attached him to cables and tortured his body with electricity in the hope of transferring the knowledge of another language. The burn marks on his temples were still visible even after two weeks.

But it was the best way to help his father. This way he could make him happy, be useful and show his gratitude. After all, he had been taken in and chosen for something great. Ghetsis was a generous man. Probably even one of the kindest.

But when he handed Natural a small knife, he blinked in surprise. Then he looked up at his father.

“Colress will be here soon to prepare you for new tests. You know we need something to restrain the power of the legendary dragons.” Ghetsis’ gaze travelled to the window. “Research is a cruel act, but you must learn to make decisions like this.”

“What decisions?”

“Those that determine the suffering of many and the suffering of few. Remember. All the punishments you have been allowed to divide between you and your sisters have prepared you for days like this. Before, you felt it all firsthand. Now you will be empathetic and learn to make wise decisions in front of cruel moments.”

His eyes widened. Sometimes his father’s words seemed like incomprehensible phrases that he could barely follow. Just like in those seconds, so Ghetsis let out a sigh.

“Today you will decide whether to give Colress this knife or not,” he explained. “Give it to him, and hundreds of Pokémon, who no longer believe in hope, will be saved. However, keep it to yourself if you want to save Munna’s life.”

The Pokémon that slept most of the day and appeared so deep in its world that Natural hadn’t been able to have a single normal conversation with it. However, he liked it because it had wonderful dreams and sometimes told him about worlds that sounded like hot ice storms and bitterly cold rain of flames. It was a nice, headstrong Pokémon that carried peace deep within it.

And he had to protect that peace.

 

In a flash, Natural buried his face in the crook of his arm to stifle the nausea. Friede’s hand was safely on his back, and for a moment he thought he was being spoken to. But he was sick to his stomach, even as Zoroark pressed his wet nose firmly against his fingers.

He didn’t want to remember. Not the day Colress had appeared and Natural had hidden the knife. Not of how happy he had been about his decision to save Munna, only to learn two weeks later that hopeless Pokémon had crawled out of the shadows and been killed by others. Pokémon that he could have helped, with Munna’s death and its Dream Mist and DNA, able to replace lost souls with happiness.

Natural had learnt to grieve early on. He piled up this grief, permanently and endlessly. In all those years, he had only been left with the pain that created guilt towards everything that could have been, that had never happened and that he hadn’t been able to save.

Even his escape harboured this certainty; the thought of the Liepard that could have lived if freedom hadn’t been so tempting; the assurance of never having said a word to anyone to incriminate his father or to avoid all that had happened. And also the knowledge that more Pokémon in Plasma would suffer at Ghetsis‘ or even Colress’ hands because he – Natural Harmonia Gropius, child of the forest and wannabe king – couldn’t save them, drilled through his body.

He couldn’t change anything.

He wasn’t hero enough for that.

Chapter 5: Refuge

Notes:

Hello! This week would be update week. But sadly, I'm unable to keep the schedule.

I'm in hospital, can't move, every nerve in my back is inflamed, and I'm happy with ... just breathing. Feels like getting roasted by a too hot pan.

So it's me and my phone (who hasn't my chapters, I write on PC) against the world!

I hope I'll be able to update next week 😅 Sorry to keep you guys waiting!

》I know death is tempting, but my dearest,
is it really like the warmth of an embrace
that you long for?
Are you not confusing the coldness of an end
with the warmth of a person who
welcomes your weary spirit?《

 

The memory flooded him like an old enemy. Immediately, his body shot upwards under the stare of the other two. He had wanted to cling to the vague image of the day of an ugly decision, not the actual experiments. But the images in his head morphed into Colress’ face.

      “Will it hurt?” His attention wandered around the room, along the bare metal walls, to the sterile tables, chairs and utensils that had been put down. In between, the researcher’s broad smile.

Sweat gathered on Natural's forehead. Swallowing was suddenly terribly difficult, and Colress’ laughter rang in his ears, just like back then, during that long afternoon full of defeats.

      “It won’t hurt,” the researcher assured him. “No more than maybe ... a little electric shock.”

      “Like a thunder wave?”

     “Exactly.” Colress grinned. “That almost sums it up.”

His whole body flinched. Movement came into his body, and before Natural knew it, he was hurrying back up the stairs into the ship. He still remembered the room, the doors, the way to the saving water. Simultaneously, someone shouted something behind him he couldn’t understand. Instead, his legs carried him away – haunted by the day of endless blisters.

 

The strange nubs that Colress attached to his temples hung from cables that converged at one point – to a black-haired girl lying unconscious on a cot. She was perhaps two years older than him, and her grey skin looked drained.

Natural, in contrast, was sitting in a chair, his wrists and ankles secured with strong leather straps. A safety precaution, according to Colress, so he wouldn’t injure himself by flinching.

“Very well.” Colress looked at Natural once more before nodding and writing something down quickly. “Today begins the third attempt to transfer Harmonia’s knowledge to another human in the hope of passing on the Pokémon language. We’ll record the result with brainwaves and any short-term activity in test subject X.”

The first two attempts hadn’t been terrible, but they hadn’t been pleasant either. The first time, an Alakazam had been used to plant his memories in his father’s mind. A failure, as they had discovered, and one more day on which he had disappointed Ghetsis.

On the second, they had explored his brain and rammed two needles into his skull. The pain had made him howl, but in Colress’ opinion, he could do much more if he could find out which part of the brain needed to be stimulated to preserve information such as unusual languages. Natural didn’t know if he had been successful. But if he had, he wouldn’t be sitting in this chair now.

“I’m going to switch on the power now. Values have been checked. Remedies are within reach. Risk of losing the patient: low. Risk of subsequent damage: low.” He scrutinised the girl temporarily. “Test subject X is in position. Brain to be analysed at a later date. Brain functions reasonably active due to electrical impulses. Time remaining until rigour: one hour and twelve minutes.”

Natural could hardly follow. Colress’ words often sounded like a complicated mess that he didn’t understand. Still, he watched the researcher’s hands, observing as one reached for a lever and the next moment-

His body struggled to bend. Every fibre tensed to breaking point. His hands balled into fists and his teeth clenched. He couldn’t even manage a scream. It seemed as if a thunderclap was crashing down on him, forcing heat through his body and taking his breath away. He thought he could feel the pain behind it, the tugging of his muscles, the burning of his organs, the pins and needles in his bones, but the few tears that overcame him faded unshed. Instead, he felt moisture on his upper lip, like a flaming path across his mouth. He could no longer see Colress. The artificial light from the ceiling lamp blinded him.

And then, all at once, it ended. His body relaxed for a dry breath before he tensed up again. A scream died soundlessly on his tongue. Aftershocks shivered on his skin, and for a blink, he thought he was suffocating.

“Medication is being administered.” Colress’ voice barely reached him. “Burn marks on the temple. Nosebleed. Blood also leaking from the mouth. Must have bitten his tongue.” A sigh. “Skin very red. Organs affected, but curable. Hyper potion mixture is being used.”

Something dripped onto his lips. Tasteless; thicker than water, a bit like fruit juice.

“Time to complete healing: seven minutes. Test substance is being tested with this. Temporary title: Healing serum. The following side effects are observed: physical change, well-being of the test subject.”

Natural had to blink several times to notice Colress’ blurred vision through tears. “Are we done?”

The researcher’s brows lifted. “What are you thinking? We’ve only just begun.”

 

His hands barely got a grip on the edge of the sink before he threw up with a gush. Bile burnt in his throat, his breath hitched, and his world spun.

The memory of Colress stung behind his closed eyelids, causing Natural to tear his eyes open and try not to blink for three breaths. Then he groaned, tasted acid on his tongue and noticed the foul odour of his vomit.

Hastily, he turned on the tap. Then he watched his breakfast crawl down the drain – all half-digested and soft enough not to clog anything. It seemed a bit like his life. Rotten and unsightly and messy.

“N!”

When Friede appeared in the doorway, he lacked the strength to lift his head. Instead, his perception projected an image that had given him nightmares as a young boy. The lifeless body of the girl in the experiment, who had never moved, twitched under the electric voltage. At the time, he had thought he saw her fingers trembling and heard her groan. A long, squeaking noise that had sounded a bit like a cry for help.

And when a hand was placed on Natural’s back, he thought he felt the electricity in his body as he had back then.

He raised his hand, whirled around, slapped Friede’s arm away and stumbled two steps back against the wall next to the sink. His shoulders shook, his breathing was far too fast and yet – Friede’s widened eyes and slightly open mouth swept Natural’s mind blank.

“Sorry...” He quickly and barely audibly squeezed out a single word that made the adventurer opposite him wave it off.

“Is everything okay?” He pointed to the door. “If you want, we can go to the captain’s area. It’s quiet there, and the view is great. It’s easy to take your mind off things there.”

An offer. Another helping hand extended to him, which he accepted. At some point, he would have to pay for all the kindness he had been allowed, and even if he wanted to believe Friede, a part of him clung to what he knew. To his father and his upbringing. To the rules and the certainty that everything had a price. Everything except him.

Friede led him into the ship’s control room, equipped with a dial and a few buttons Natural barely noticed. The Pikachu with its captain’s cap sat on the wood of the steering wheel, its face contorted, and as Natural sat down on a small bench, he heard the Pokémon’s voice.

“All right?”

He raised his eyes, wanting to answer, but the voice of his Zoroark intervened. He scurried through the last gap before Friede could close the door and leave Natural alone. “Does he look okay to you?”

“A little seasick, maybe.” Pikachu shrugged. “Should lie down if it’s that bad.”

“I’m not seasick.” Natural raised a hand wearily. “I just ... remembered something old that upset my stomach.”

“From a fight?” Slowly, Zoroark sat down on the ground in front of him, resting his paws on his legs.

“Of... Colress and... his experiment on me.”

A snort escaped his best friend before he shook his head. There were no words, however. In those seconds, Zoroark was simply there for him. A Pokémon, usually full of mischief and fun and little tricks, took a step back to be a pillar of strength for him.

“I’m sorry I... can’t just be me again.” Gently, he nuzzled his cheek against Zoroark’s muzzle. “I’m ... working on it.”

“Take your time. We’ll just catch up on all the nice things one day.”

The next moment, the door opened again, and Friede pushed his way into the room, a glass of water in one hand and a sandwich in the other. He handed both to Natural with a smile.

He was far too gracious, offering far too much, and Natural waited a few minutes for Friede to ask questions, but he simply sat down next to him on the bench. Stretching out his legs, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He didn’t bother with information. The pace of this time together was solely in Natural’s hands.

Carefully, he took a few sips of water to get rid of the nasty taste on his tongue before he dared to take a bite of the sandwich and barely felt his hunger budding later. The food disappeared quickly, and when the glass rested empty in his hand, his attention wandered to Friede.

Telling him something, explaining everything that had happened, had to be the right thing to do. Perhaps it would even suffice if he only said a few things – the summoning of the legendary dragons, Unova, Domino, Ghetsis and his strange plan to rule a region. In between, his escape attempt. The death of a Pokémon. Blood on dirty ground. Lashes on bare skin. The offer he had turned down.

So he gathered his courage, took a deep breath, and collected his thoughts. Endless, unceasing, ruthless images that choked his throat and prevented him from making a sound.

What was the value of a conversation like this, anyway?

As a child, he had always talked to the Pokémon, and even though they were similar to humans, it had always been easiest to talk to them about all the worries and doubts inside him. They had listened, heard his words, and been there for him. Affection and love he had lost after Liepard had died. All because of a stupid mistake and the everlasting resistance he had put up to his father.

His lips pressed together as he leaned forward and tried to swallow. His skin stretched to breaking point, the saliva burnt like fire in his throat. His eyes seemed watery, and a tingling sensation in his nose threatened to draw out something he was trying hard to suppress. This was probably what suffocation felt like.

“N!” Friede’s voice thundered through his skull. “Are you all right?”

He lifted his head in a flash, his eyes fixed on the man who only ever seemed to want the best for him. An almost stranger who was pushing his way into all the cracks and gaps that were growing in size somewhere in Natural.

If he told Friede about everything that had happened, what would he see? What face would he make?

He had once told Domino a tiny part of what his father had done, and her face had been a mosaic of grief. A show of concern and determination that she wanted to help him. Would Friede look the same?

Probably not. People rarely reacted in the same way, and Friede wasn’t Domino. He was a man, an adventurer, one of those Colress had once recorded as wasted potential. Someone who would surely wrinkle his nose at the happenings of a nobody, as sophisticated and chaotic as they seemed. Supposedly, that was normal. Colress had explained it that way.

“Sorry.” In the end, that was all Natural knew how to do. Apologising meant that there was no need to discuss things further. Conversations ended after an apology. So he stood up, wiped his damp hands on his trousers, and headed for the exit without further ado.

“Where are you going?” Friede actually allowed his action, but the desire for safety didn’t seem to let go of him.

“I’m going to lie down,” Natural said dryly. “I’ll ... call you if I need anything.”

Friede didn’t get to answer before Natural disappeared down the corridor, Zoroark close on his heels, determined to sleep all these thoughts away.

It had once been so simple. He had upheld the image of the good boy and followed orders. Sometimes he had been unhappy, and then again he had smiled. Mostly only when he had been alone with the Pokémon. Sometimes for himself, too, when the thoughts in his head had been nice. Later for Domino, too.

“But now you’re just a thing that doesn’t understand humans, and you’re not a Pokémon, either!”

Ghetsis’ voice thundered in his ears, in his head, as if it was impossible to run far enough away. Domino had warned him to be careful, but a part of him realised far too slowly that perhaps she had meant more than that.

“If you weren’t so terribly stupid, you would have understood her. Then you wouldn’t be in the position of a boy trying to explore the world as if it were a child’s playground. I warned you. Over and over again. I have, Harmonia. Because a father looks after his children. And you repay me in such a cold way...”

The door to his room slammed loudly behind him. Zoroark sat down silently in a corner, intent on giving him all the time in the world, while Natural bit his lower lip hard.

Perhaps the voice in his head was right. Like when he had sat in the hotel room with Domino and had been honest with himself and his feelings in front of someone else for the first time. He hadn’t known what to do then, and nothing seemed to change in this constant misery.

Run away or turn back?

Shout or remain silent?

Speak or swallow every word?

Bile bubbled in his throat as he buried his hands in his hair to press them firmly against his skull. The throbbing behind the bone tingled all the way to his fingertips. His legs gave way as he slid back-first down the door and hit the floor. His thoughts were spinning, a headache stung behind his forehead, and a twitch settled in his muscles.

Every tremor of his body was disturbing, so he tugged at his hair – as a distraction – until he pulled some out. His fingers twitched waywardly – wishing to claw his eyes out – unable to manage more than slapping him flat on the face. His throat seemed too tight to breathe, but he did anyway, somehow. Tears burnt on his lower eyelids, but good-for-nothings weren’t allowed to cry.

He used to cry a lot. Mostly after every other decision Ghetsis had asked him to make. Now and again because he had fallen on his nose as a little boy and scraped his knee. Somewhere in between, sometimes just because.

And then he had stopped after his father had hit him in the face with a walking stick. Countless times, until his tears had dried up, and he was just shaking. The message of this teaching had always been the same.

Kings don’t cry!

Good-for-nothings aren’t allowed to mourn!

I can give you many more reasons to weep!

If people see you like this ... do you think they will accept you?

A sigh escaped Natural’s lips as the trembling of his body subsided. What remained was coldness on his skin and tiredness in his head. The darkness of the room seemed peaceful for a moment, and the soft whispering in the background of his deviant thoughts secretly wondered if this darkness couldn’t be a part of him.

If he disappeared, all these problems would be solved. Then there would be no more reason to wonder who was right.

Him or Ghetsis.

Ghetsis or Domino.

He distantly remembered the days when, at sixteen, he had once thought that an end would be much easier. But his sisters had told him that the pain and frustration inside him would only help to make him stronger. Yet he didn’t feel any more powerful than he had the day Colress had tormented him. And perhaps that too was a truth he hadn’t seen before. Perhaps suffering was sometimes just suffering. Nothing that made you stronger. Something that just hurt until you disappeared.

What purpose did a life like his fulfil? Why was he trying to learn about this world if he couldn’t change anything?

He lowered his eyelids. Zekrom had already promised himself to another trainer, which made Natural’s existence null and void. There was no reason to torture himself through something in which he had been assigned no other place than this one. He was just background noise. A thing with no relevance to a story.

“Feeling better?” Zoroark’s words sounded like distant shouts, causing Natural to open his eyes but see nothing.

Awkwardly, he struggled to his feet. “I think so. I’m just hungry ... and I’ll get something from the kitchen. Will you wait here?”

Luckily for him, Zoroark gave a snort of approval before Natural pushed his way out the door and back into the open corridors and eternally distant glass fronts. Not a soul lurked far and wide, and apart from the artificial light that stung his eyes, night reigned.

Mouth agape, Natural shoved his clenched fists into his trouser pockets. It hadn’t felt like hours, crouching in the room and thinking. But the truth hit him in a startling way this time, too, and as he shuffled to the kitchen, he seemed to be the only person on board this ship.

Perhaps the others had gone and left him behind. It was all a bit of a sign.

The spacious kitchen was so bright it reflected the light from the ceiling lights. White cupboards, white drawers. Sweets on a shelf. Fruit in a basket. A knife next to it. No dirty dishes. Just Natural.

His shoulders slumped as he glanced at the knife again. If he disappeared here and now, no one would notice. No one would miss him. No one would be sad about his sudden end.

He bit his tongue. Domino would mourn him, for sure. But she also had other friends. This Amethio she liked to talk about, and her team. She probably got on with everyone from the Explorers. Somehow.

He, however, only had Zoroark left, and as much as he loved his friend, he would probably never be able to give him what he craved. Fun and pranks and a carefree life seemed impossible.

His fingers wrapped around the wooden hilt of the blade, far too slowly. Zoroark would be better off without him. In the first place, it would have been better if he hadn’t come along in the first place and simply accepted that it was wiser for them to go their separate ways.

Ghetsis was probably right in the end. The Pokémon were happier without humans. Zoroark might be momentarily depressed by everything that would happen after this journey ended, but he would get over it. And then he would be content out there in the vastness of the world where they had met.

His eyelids drooped. Zoroark would understand that he deserved it. Natural Harmonia Gropius was nothing more than a stupid boy who was responsible for the death of a Pokémon. Many Pokémon had died because of him. Sometimes humans too.

He deserved it.

His father would have agreed.

So he raised the knife, ready to ram it through the thin skin of his wrist. This way, he could apologise.

To those he had let die and to those he had robbed of their future.

Chapter 6: Friendship

》Look at you, my child.
You’re still breathing, even if you can hardly believe it.
There’s someone out there waiting for you.
Why don’t you take a step forward?《

 

The razor-sharp blade chased down on Natural’s wrist with dead-on accuracy. For seconds, he held his breath and gasped in shock as fingers tightened around his arm. Nails dug into his flesh, he was pulled back, and some of the force behind it drained him of all strength.

In two blinks, Natural recognised the figure behind him. The metal of the knife that had slipped from his hand clattered on the tiles. An abrupt sound that determined the intensity of the words ahead.

“Are you crazy?”

Friede’s voice thundered in Naturale’s ears. Still, he lacked the strength to grimace. The emptiness in his head was vague, and it seemed impossible to utter a single, clear sentence. Meanwhile, his throat burnt like fire, while his eyes ached as if they had been rubbed against sandpaper.

“What makes you ... want to do something like that?” Friede had more words in comparison, which he hurled at him as if they were of any value. “I told you that you could tell me if something was wrong!” His hands settled on Natural’s shoulders to turn him around and shake him. “This isn’t the answer.”

“Why?” It was one of those strangely detached questions that rolled off Natural’s lips because he didn’t understand the meaning. Saying that death wasn’t a solution to a problem was wrong.

Every issue had started with him. He was the main reason others had suffered and would continue to suffer. Sure, the dead humans and Pokémon wouldn’t come back, but neither would anyone else have to go through hell because of him. Ghetsis would no longer shoot anyone to convince him of anything. Zoroark would no longer be bound to boring journeys promising no joy. Zekrom could join the Explorers immediately, and some members of Plasma might understand that there was no “king” now.

“Wh-” Raising his brows, Friede shook his head before tightening his grip. Natural could feel the throbbing beneath his flesh. “You shouldn’t even think of such a thing! When there’s a problem, you look for a solution.”

A sigh escaped the former hero’s lips. How did you explain a solution to someone that didn’t qualify as a solution in said person’s world?

“As if you knew how to fix a problem.” Natural’s tongue loosened. It seemed like all the pent-up things were combining to come out as toxin. Ugly words that didn’t fit him, but flowed out ceaselessly. “You act like you have everything under control. Like ... you can play the hero for someone else. But the truth is ... there are no heroes. Anyone who says otherwise is just too cowardly to stand up for themselves. Or too cowardly ... to realise there are already enough people who trump one’s own ex-“

He got no further as exploding pain spread across his cheek. His head snapped to the side, an unpleasant pulsation crept up behind his forehead, and the next words suffocated in his throat. The following silence settled on them both like a shroud.

“I...”

“It’s all right.” Instead of giving Friede the time to justify himself, Natural seized the word. Only slowly did he turn his head back to his counterpart. The panicked expression in Friede’s golden eyes seemed almost endearing. “I’m ... used to days like this.”

Ghetsis’ walking stick had often hit him much harder than Friede would ever manage with a flat hand. Compared to the hard wood, his fingers seemed fragile.

“It’s not all right.” Shoulders slumped, Friede let go. Strengthless, his arms sank down while his gaze remained fixed on Natural. “I’ve gone too far and ... I’m sorry.”

Silence was all Natural could manage. Perhaps he had already said too much, judging by the tightness of his chest and the tears pooling behind his eyelids.

“How... How long have you been thinking about going this way?”

Had he ever consciously thought about escaping all this? What Natural remembered were all the seconds he had wanted to die.

Back then, tied to the table, under Colress’ eyes.

Not so long ago, when Domino had embraced him and despair had taken over.

Two years after Ghetsis had taken him in and broken two walking sticks on his body.

Repeatedly, the thought had bubbled to the surface without dominating because he had wanted to believe in something better – because there had been a goal and souls who needed him.

“I ... think,” Natural finally began, “that I ... spent almost my whole life trying ... to give in to the desire for an end.”

Friede’s mouth twisted. “And why are you giving up now? Why today, of all days?”

“Because there’s no destination for me out here.” He lowered his gaze. “I promised someone I’d see the world and then make something better out of it ... but when I said that ... it was like flying high. We’d fought. She gave me a hug, and for a moment, I really thought I could do anything. But...”

The next words remain missing. His overwhelming optimism, fuelled by Domino, had ended the very second he had seen himself in this Liepard. Realisation had hit and, with it, crushing exhaustion.

He was tired.

Tired of pretending that he could make a difference. Tired of the eternal glimmer of hope that faded as soon as it seemed within reach. Tired of expectations he didn’t know how to fulfil.

It felt as if he would never achieve victory, despite his endless attempts. Never. Because he was just him. Natural. N.

Eyes to the ground, he watched as Friede stepped from one foot to the other in his heavy-looking hiking boots. He seemed so indecisive, so restless, that Natural finally lifted his head – in the same breath that Friede spread his arms and wrapped them tightly around Natural.

The sudden warmth of another’s body enveloped him cosily. Simultaneously, an unfamiliar tingling sensation crept over his skin, adding discomfort to all of this. Last time, Domino had taken him in her arms. And before her, the last human touch of this kind had been five years ago. Perhaps because adults didn’t hug each other. Or maybe it was because, after a certain age, people had grown out of such approaches unless they were trying to make love to someone.

Natural swallowed.

Most likely, though, a hug with him had no value whatsoever. It didn’t make anyone feel better. No one suddenly understood him. Nothing happened. And yet Friede hugged him tightly, as if it solved all the problems gathering inside him.

It was so strange, so inappropriate and unfamiliar that it tightened Natural’s throat. His chest ached, his eyes burnt, and when he noticed heat on his cheeks, a part of him just seemed to let go.

The sobs following shook his whole body. Every fibre in him trembled. The sorrow rolling over his lips clung to him. It sounded pathetic to his own ears. Friede didn’t comment on it, though.

It seemed insane that he just stood there and didn’t move – Natural firmly in his arms. A bit as if time stood still, and all this was only half as embarrassing. No matter how Natural looked at it, it made no sense. Still, he remained motionless, easing the weight on his shoulders with the tears and yet finding no real comfort in the middle of this otherworldly warmth. All the things he had been through were stories he couldn’t burden Friede with. Putting others through so much was nothing more than the mistake of a small child – something Ghetsis had often warned him about.

“Will you talk to me about it?” Friede’s voice reached his ears in a husky tone.

Of course, he asked. Probably anyone would have asked, because people often wondered but didn’t really want an answer. A moment like this had to be part of that process. In the end, nobody really cared about the baggage some people carried around. They asked to show interest, to appear friendly and compassionate. And everyone else kept quiet so as not to become a burden to others.

“No.” Casually, Natural pushed away from Friede. “It’s not... that important.”

“I don’t mind if it’s not important.” A broad smile spread across Friede’s lips. “Friends listen to each other, even when it’s about the daily weather report.”

“I ... didn’t have ... any human ... friends before.” To speak when his throat was parched and his breath was stuttering in his chest tore his argument apart even before Friede hugged him again. The distance between them shrank once more.

Friede didn’t even bother to breathe anything into his ear. The closeness between them seemed to be enough of an answer. At least, Natural thought he could see clear meaning behind the beating of his own heart and the warmth in someone’s arms. Words that no one could utter because they came from the heart and only had an effect when you felt someone’s pulse on your skin.

For a breath, this conversation between hearts swallowed up any negativity attached to him. The desire to die was muted, the despair silenced, and the words of Ghetsis that had always rested in the back of his mind faded. What followed was a terrified calm in which Natural returned the embrace. His arms wrapped around Friede, hugging him so tightly that he let out a laugh. Natural listened to him. Every fibre of his body wanted to crawl into this adventurer.

Would he be safer if he held Friede tighter? Would everything be better if he never let go again?

Nonsense upon nonsense, and yet his hands clutched at the other’s black shirt as if it were the only lifeline in this place. But in the end, it was Friede who grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to take a step back.

“Let me tell you that even if the world doesn’t want you, the Rising Volt Tacklers will always have a place for you,” he started. “We barely know each other, but that shouldn’t stop anyone from helping someone else. If you have worries, I’m right here.” His hands detached from Natural’s shoulders. Then he put them on his hips. “Try to remember that you’ll always be welcome here, even when you’re drained and stuck and need to figure out what to do next. Even then, you’re welcome.”

How did one react to a person who defied all logic? Natural’s fingers twitched at the thought of how easy it would be to put Friede’s hands around his neck and watch what happened. But he didn’t have the strength, and when the other finally took him gently by the hand, any thought of testing that patience seemed absurd.

“Do you think you can sleep?”

Natural shook his head. He would have preferred to never close his eyes again so as not to be locked up and abandoned in this darkness. But there was no way out. Eventually, tiredness would get the better of him and win the battle.

“If you want, I’ll stay with you. Just like last time.” Friede, meanwhile, remained unfazed. He seemed ready to take on the fight against the night as well, and it sounded much better than being alone.

Last time, Natural had slept too, and when he’d woken up before Friede, the world had been a little fuzzy – a little better than usual.

“Okay.” That was all his tongue let out, but it was enough to elicit a hesitant nod from Friede and lead him slowly out of the kitchen.

The knife was left behind – along with the images and worries that had gnawed at him earlier. Right up to his room, where no one was waiting for him and everything seemed a little deserted.

“Where’s Zoroark?” Brows raised, he looked around but couldn’t find the red mane anywhere.

“Ah, it approached me to send me to the kitchen,” Friede explained. “It probably wanted someone else to assist you. It’s probably-“

“He,” Natural interrupted him. “He’s male.”

A sympathetic hum. “He probably wanted someone to watch you. Someone who’s human. You said you’ve never had human friends before. Maybe he wanted to change that.”

“I’ve already made friends with someone... That earlier... that... I meant it differently...” Natural’s shoulders weighed heavy as lead.

“But that friend isn’t here to stand by you now.” Friede’s fingers loosened from his hand. “So you need someone else. Anyway, I have no problem being your friend, N.”

Unable to find the right words, Natural averted his eyes. Then he pushed himself forward into the room, back into the bed, which nestled eagerly against him. Between the soft sheets and pillows, there was no support, no security, and no guarantee. Still, he laid his head on the pillow and stared at the nearest wall, his back to Friede.

He heard him settle down in front of the bed and let out a drawn-out sigh, as if the day had been far too long. Maybe it had been, and Natural just hadn’t noticed.

“Did you know I met Pikachu when I thought the world had nothing interesting to offer anymore?”

Curling his body slightly under the duvet, Natural clutched at the fabric. “No.”

“I’m a professor who likes to study the behaviour of Pokémon. Most of them show the same pattern, and I quickly realised that maybe I wasn’t needed out here. That I’ve chosen the wrong path, and now I don’t quite know what to look for or what to do next, other than waste away in a stuffy lab analysing thousands of samples.”

Natural closed his eyes far too slowly to imagine Friede in the same clothes as Colress. A long, white coat and a Rotom Computer in hand to make quick notes.

“And then one day, when I was wandering around and didn’t know where to go, someone pointed out this Pikachu to me. A Pokémon that simply ignored all the rules of its kind.” He laughed softly. “He waited until sunrise to use volt tackle to catapult himself into the air. He kept his balance with his tail, and it almost seemed like he was flying.”

Towards freedom, just as Natural had done. However, Pikachu hadn’t been on the run.

“Simply because he wanted to see the sunrise from above.” Friede sounded lost in thought. Fond memories had to be something special.

But when Natural gave in and searched, he only found the same old scenes that never let him go. So he clung to Friede’s story – and thus to the sleep behind it.

 

---

》 HARMONIA 《

---

 

Dreamless silence spat his senses straight back to reality – to a place where soft light fell through a window and greeted him in morning fashion. It had an idyllic glamour he hadn’t noticed in all the other days. Peace in which he could bask, if only he could find the courage to reach out.

Instead, Natural clung to the duvet and took a few breaths. Only then did he lift his head far enough to look at where Friede was sleeping. To make matters worse, no one was waiting for him there. The man who had so lovingly reached out to him earlier was no longer sitting in front of his bed and sleeping.

Far too slowly, Natural sat up. Without Friede, the room seemed empty. No one was expecting him, no one was watching over him, and although Zoroark lay curled up in a corner, twitching his ears from time to time, his best friend was no match for the warmth of a human.

His eyelids drooped. It was strange. A long time ago, he had lived in a forest and had wanted for nothing. Human civilisation had been just a distant thought that he had never belonged to. His father had made sure this detached vein in him dissolved. Suddenly, all the Pokémon in the world were just his friends – no longer family – and he was looking for a connection among those who were supposed to be closest to him.

On days like these, the world, this decision, this desire for sanctuary, felt wrong. He didn’t belong in this place, and yet somehow he was tied to a kind of expectation he had carried all this time but never understood. Since Domino’s words, his universe had been spinning. A little more every day. As if all the things he had endured all this time were floating to the surface. Like a memory. Because none of it fitted together.

Sighing, he pushed the blanket off his body. His head blanked out the rest of the thoughts, strangely enough. There was no reason to harbour the same eternal feelings or even to think that it would have been better if nothing had ever changed. Although this room lay empty before him and only Zoroark seemed to breathe the same air as him, the sun’s rays of the day seemed warm. Warmer than what he had experienced in the last few days.

Perhaps there was hope for improvement. Maybe Friede was right and he just needed a little more time – a few chances to come to terms with himself and process the circumstances. To accept.

“Are you going to stay in bed?” Zoroark’s ears twitched again, but this time he lifted his head. “You’d be missing out on a great breakfast, which will certainly energise you a bit!”

“Breakfast?”

Zoroark’s nose twitched. “I’ve been smelling it for half an eternity now. It started just after Friede got up. Who knows, maybe he figured he’d tell that cook to prepare something good.”

A small smile crept onto Natural’s lips. The only thing Zoroark appreciated more than little pranks was good food. In Unova, he had often emptied the pantry and driven the members of Plasma into terrible arguments with each other because no one could find the culprit. Natural had never said a word about it – only because they had always covered for each other.

And perhaps Zoroark was right. Perhaps the cook of this troupe was preparing something great that he could share with his best friend. Maybe there really was some peace in between, some quiet, some hope for mindless chatter that no one else could give him.

So Natural swung his legs out of bed and pushed his bare feet onto the floor. In swift movements, he dressed himself in some fabrics that Friede must have placed on his desk and dared to take a breath, burying his nose in the black top. The scent of flowers invaded his senses, having no connection to Friede, and yet somewhere underneath, he thought he caught a whiff of the man who had cradled him in his arms earlier.

Immediately afterwards, he pushed into the corridors of the airship and headed towards the outside world, which, to his astonishment, wasn’t moving. It stood still. Almost as if time was no longer ticking and wanted to trap him in this gentle cloud of slightly positive thoughts.

“Looks like we’re finally getting out of here!” Zoroark cheerfully shifted his heavy head onto Natural’s shoulder and gave an amused snort. Land would give his friend a chance to tease the humans there.

“Slateport City’s nearby,” someone interjected. “We’ll stock up there.”

As if in a trance, Natural’s eyes travelled to the ground, where the crew’s Pikachu sat with its stubby arms crossed. The captain’s cap made his figure look sturdier than it already was.

“Where’s that?” Instead of crouching down and turning his attention to the Pikachu, Natural sauntered towards the glass door outside.

“Hoenn,” Pikachu replied. “A region far away from where we picked you up.”

He nodded. A place that was probably also far away from Unova seemed like a safe haven. Hoenn sounded good. It almost sounded even better when he pushed open the door to the outside and faced the icy cold air that carried the scattered chattering of a few Swablus towards him. No one seemed to be afraid of ice or snow in this place. No one cared about the freezing temperatures clinging to his body, reminding him he was indeed in this place. He breathed. His skin tingled.

He was alive.

And yet, the world beneath him beckoned with palpable closeness and people who would push him around if he didn’t watch where he was going. Perhaps, against all his hopes, he would even see familiar faces, and the tightness in the centre of his chest yearned once more for the clouds through which they had flown before. Above them, freedom was boundless. Up there, it was all right to forget.

Shaking his head, Natural breathed in the icy air until he could clearly feel the stinging in his lungs. For Friede, he tried to look straight ahead. This man, along with Domino, was a new friend in this new life; on this new ship that accepted small steps.

Natural wanted to believe in that.

To hold on to the fact that he could heal in small steps.

 

 

---

Notes:

I'm an awful artist, but who cares? The picture is proudly provided to you by Paint and my computer mouse, desperately screaming at me to stop this insanity.

Chapter 7: Take away

》It's hard to do the right thing, my son.
And yet you try again every day, tirelessly.
You try despite rejection, unsure whether you are doing the right thing.
When did you start questioning yourself?《

Friede

 

The days passed faster than he realised. The time he usually spent researching and communicating with old acquaintances was now divided between attentive glances in N’s direction and thoughts about this near stranger. Judging by his body, the bones and ribs that Friede had felt as he had embraced him, he had escaped from a place where no human should be. In addition, his behaviour and his psyche revealed dangerous thoughts that probably haunted him even at night. Memories that startled him. It was why he had beaten Friede. And it’s why he had tried to take his own life.

He had this strange characteristic of someone who had never experienced affection before and was now forced to improvise. And he was far from being good at it. Instead, he conveyed the image of a creature tripping over its own legs whenever it tried to run away from something.

Friede sighed. N deserved an environment where he didn’t have to hide his vulnerable side. A world where joy was the order of the day instead of survival.

Shaking his head, Friede put his hands on his hips and squared his shoulders before giving a barely perceptible nod. He would devote himself to N as soon as he had finished this job. Perhaps a new travelling companion would do him good. Someone he could talk to and someone he knew. This girl, Domino, seemed to find her way into the hearts of others quickly. At least he couldn’t think of a better excuse as to why she had ended up trapped by the Explorers the last time they had met, without wanting to leave.

Perhaps he would learn her side of the story as soon as he had stolen her from Amethio and brought her home in safe company. Roma Simpell would thank him, and another chapter would be closed.

“Your mind seems pretty occupied.”

Behind him, Diana’s raspy voice nestled against his ears, causing Friede to look over his shoulder and smile broadly. Cap had made himself comfortable on her shoulder, supplied with a sweet Poké Berry. Meanwhile, Diana took Friede’s twitching mouth as an invitation to lean against the railing next to him and stare into the distance.

“I guess you never get bored when you’re travelling,” she continued. “Is it the boy?”

“N? Too...” Friede confessed. “But there’s also this girl travelling with the Explorers that I’m worried about.”

A knowing grumble escaped Diana. “The Explorers, huh?”

“Judging by the tracking devices and the little camera, they’ll probably think they followed us here. But we already knew they were coming to Hoenn.” He leant on the railing. They had noticed the small devices on the floor of the ship far too late. They had probably been stuck to the wood for months, which also explained how they had found them in the middle of the Laplace Sea. If it hadn’t been for Orla, he would have immediately torn down the surveillance and thrown it into the sea – Mollie had stopped him with clever words.

In the meantime, the Explorers had also arrived in Hoenn. Thanks to Professor Cozmo, they knew this group was in contact with the Devon Corporation. A pact that both sides had made in order to benefit from each other. Here, however, to make sure that no more thefts were committed at Devon’s main headquarters.

He bowed his head.

None of that mattered in those seconds. The festival not far from here would give them the opportunity to not only pocket the rest of the money for the job, but they would also put a dent in the Explorers’ plans as well. The only thing he had to focus on was the task in front of him, without once again letting the opportunity to fulfil his job slip through his fingers.

“I’ll join you,” Diana revealed to him somewhere between his musings, and Friede could do nothing but lift his head and look at her sideways. Her thin brows lifted as a smirk formed on her lips. “It can’t hurt to inspect these Explorers a little more. Maybe we’ll learn something about them that way.”

Denying Diana something was one thing Friede wouldn’t try. She was an old, stubborn woman who had had more adventures than most other people he knew. Even if he refused her company, she would accompany him. Her telling him her plan was nothing more than a gesture of goodwill.

“Then we should set off and search,” Friede replied, stretching. “Who knows when we’ll get such a good chance next time? According to Dot, Amethio’s henchmen have already been spotted in the mass of the market.”

Without further ado, he dug out his Poké Ball and allowed Charizard to stretch its wings. Simultaneously, Pikachu leapt onto his head, causing Friede to put all his thoughts aside and focus on the only target that mattered right now.

He mounted Charizard’s back with a flourish before it flapped its powerful wings with an amused roar and launched it into the air a blink later. Within a breath, the Brave Asagi lay beneath them, and the humans, who had previously seemed half-reachable, diminished to colourful dots.

But the picture remained manageable for only a short time. They maintained their height up to the first roofs of the stalls before he gave Charizard the order to glide down and get closer to the colourful crowd – buyers and sellers whose lively business didn’t even stop when he landed among them.

For a moment, Friede scrutinised the nearby offerings before slipping off Charizard’s back and examining the candied apples.

He had seen them back then too, the day he had met N. They had been on pre-sale, a little too early, captivatingly red and tantalisingly sweet. Nothing compared to the battered, half-frozen body he had reached out to.

He shook off the thought in a flash. Thinking about N, comparing him to familiar things and trying to understand him was getting him nowhere in his mission. He needed to focus on Domino.

“Friede!” Diana’s voice snapped him out of his mind once more, causing him to spin around once before Arcanine glided through the crowd and stopped in front of him. On his back, she seemed almost out of place – dressed in pink, which clashed with the Pokémon’s ginger fur and reminded him of how Mollie sometimes reprimanded him for his choice of clothing.

“Did you find her?”

“No. But I’m sure they’re around here somewhere. My partner has an excellent sense of smell, and after they took us by surprise in the castle, he’s memorised some scents. He’ll find the Explorers.”

He nodded. Between all the food, drink and people, he couldn’t count on Arcanine’s nose to detect the troupe even at a distance. From the air, he would probably miss them, and the only way to succeed seemed to be a mixture of strenuous searching and luck.

Still, time seemed to stand still as they pushed their way between passers-by, and he finally called Charizard back to avoid anyone stepping on his partner’s tail. Saliva ran dry down his throat, and whenever he thought he recognised the girl among some other people, the image of N seemed to jump at him as well.

It was strange, but he couldn’t shake the moment he had found him. It had burnt itself as deeply into his mind as the moment he had reached for the kitchen knife. For a young man who was probably not much younger than Friede himself, he had a strangely childlike innocence that someone had tried to break with all their might. Perhaps the person in question had even succeeded, thinking back to N’s expression – the tired look and the lost hope.

“You’re not focused,” Diana interjected somewhere in the middle of his pondering, causing Friede to let out an apologetic snort. Putting a hand to the back of his head, he threw her a sideways glance with a smirk.

“Is that so obvious?”

“It was already obvious on the ship. You can’t get that boy out of your head, can you?” She nodded knowingly before letting her attention wander over the crowd again. “He must have suffered a lot. It hasn’t escaped my notice that you spend a lot of time with him, especially at night.”

“He has nightmares,” Friede replied. “Staying with him seems to be the only way to keep him calm. Not a big deal.”

“He certainly doesn’t see it that way.” Diana looked up at him briefly. “Sometimes these little gestures are very important.” She sighed. “And even if it’s not my place to say so, I almost think this girl we’re looking for is hardly any different.”

“She’s with the Explorers...” Mouth agape, Friede shoved his hands into the pockets of his brown pilot’s jacket. “They’ve probably got something on her.”

“Or she’s with them voluntarily,” Diana countered calmly. “There are people like that, too.”

It was similar to the statement N had once made. “And you think that because she chose this, we should refuse her father’s request?”

“All I’m saying is ... enough children are already stuck and would do anything to free themselves from old burdens. Many at her age are looking for a purpose. For a place for themselves. And instead of giving them the opportunity, we do everything we can to limit them. What do you think you would have become if your parents hadn’t let you go when it was most important to you?”

“That’s something completely different.” He shook his head. He’d taken his professorial exams early and then explored the world at sixteen until he started at Exceed at eighteen to do more detailed research in a lab. At twenty, he had seemed to have explored everything in the world; every bit of time had seemed lost, and a part of him had wanted to find something new in this world.

And then someone had introduced him to something unique. He’d met Pikachu, founded the Rising Volt Tacklers and embarked on an adventure that put the entire world in his hands.

An amused groan escaped him. His parents had always let him do what he wanted, and he had found his way. Domino, the girl they were looking for, was already seventeen. If he judged by her father’s information, she hadn’t left his side once in all those years. He had kept Pokémon away from her to keep her safe, and whatever he was trying to protect her from had most likely been the reason for her disappearance. She had run away and ended up with the Explorers.

It sounded more logical than believing that someone like Amethio had used underhanded tricks to get her to join his group. No doubt he didn’t even have any proper use for someone like her, who knew little about the world of Pokémon. Then again, they knew next to nothing about the Explorers. Anything was possible. Maybe he was just talking himself into something nonsensical at this point.

“Maybe we should ask her and then decide whether it’s better to let her go,” Diana began again, and just as Friede was about to look at her to say no, she nodded towards two women.

He recognised them straight away. Domino was just glancing at the offerings of a stall while the woman at her side – a henchman of Amethio’s – was talking to her. Now and again she tried to smile, but it didn’t reach Domino. Instead, this girl turned her attention to her own interests, almost as if she were trying to block out the world around her. Judging by her tired expression, she didn’t enjoy a single moment of this festival, and suddenly, it was obvious that she didn’t even want to be here.

Friede strode resolutely towards the stand. He only stopped four steps away from her. The biggest mistake you could make around young girls was to get too close to them out of nowhere. It would only put him in the same light as the Explorers, who liked to constrict their opponents and then steal something that didn’t belong to them.

“Hey!” When he raised his voice to draw her attention, violet eyes looked up at him. The same colour as Amethio, but far more lively and less secretive than what he knew of the Explorer.

She studied him from top to bottom for a second, her brows furrowed indecisively, and only realised a few breaths later that they already knew each other. Immediately, she took a step back, bumped into her companion, and drew her attention to him as well.

“I didn’t think you’d be at the market...” Squaring his shoulders, Amethio’s henchman stepped up beside Domino, a Poké Ball ready for battle in her hand. “What do you want?”

“We’re still on a mission to bring Domino back home.” He dared to take another step closer. “We’ve met before in the Galar mines.”

“I remember.” Mouth twisted, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. The slight trembling of her body didn’t escape Friede’s notice. Something was tugging at her nerves, and it seemed impossible to grasp the reason without asking directly.

“So you’re Domino?” Eventually Diana appeared beside him. The urgency in him to reach Domino before she disappeared had never got through to her. Her leisurely pace, her confident demeanour – she almost seemed to have more control over the situation than he did. “Your father is worried about you.”

“I know,” the girl replied. “He let me know a while ago. But until he’s willing to give me answers, I have no interest in going home. I’m part of the Explorers now.”

The harsh tone of her voice carried so much rejection that Friede felt a slight tingle on his skin. Her father certainly didn’t have it easy with a daughter who pushed him away so strongly. However, the reasons for this family dispute were foreign to him, and on assignments like this, it was wiser not to get too deeply involved in the affairs of strangers.

“You joined the Explorers voluntarily?” Raising her brows, Diana tilted her head. “So you’re joining the cause of this organisation?”

Before her companion could answer, Domino placed a hand on her shoulder. Only then did she give Diana a look that made nothing clear and simultaneously seemed to burn deep into Friede’s skin. Something about her seemed irritable, overstressed, and ready to engage in conflict if that was what was required of her.

“I practically forced myself on them. The rest is self-explanatory.”

Not kidnapped, probably not even unhappy with her decision. And yet, leaving her with the Explorers, an organisation whose goal was to steal Liko’s pendant and pursue some devious plot, was out of the question. Leaving the decision to a teenager when it was more than obviously wrong wasn’t in his power. The mission still stood, and in these circumstances, there were demands to be met.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you go,” Friede began as he pulled Charizard’s Poké Ball from his jacket pocket. “Your father has hired the Rising Volt Tacklers for your safety. Which means we’re going to take you home.” A faint smile settled on his lips. Making her feel a little more comfortable might help. “I hope we can sort this out without—”

“Whatever,” she interrupted him. Out of nowhere, she pulled out a Poké Ball of her own, not even caring who she sent into battle. As if she trusted any of her partners enough to sort out this situation. And when a Zoroark manifested in front of her, Friede inwardly applauded her courage.

Contrary to the other Pokémon of its kind, it didn’t seem to have any mischief in it. Its dark eyes fixed stubbornly on him, it raised its paws, ready to fend off any attack. It was brave like Cap, and yet only something that elicited a sigh from him. This way, things would last longer than necessary, and if he was unlucky, Amethio would show up, too.

“So much for my hopes of not causing a fuss,” he muttered. Then he released Charizard from its ball once more. Its roar washed over the passers-by, and while some of them realised a feud was about to break loose, others didn’t even shrug as they continued to follow their interests.

“Don’t think we’re going to make this easy for you!” On the side, Domino’s companion interfered. The Golduck she let out of her ball was weak; that much he knew. It had already lost to Sprigatito once, which also meant that this woman was either a lousy trainer or didn’t know her Pokémon right from left.

Simultaneously, Diana took a step forward. The soft smile on her features didn’t match the fire in her eyes, but she sent Arcanine forward as if it was natural to help. She was one of those women who knew when help was needed, and she seemed to love measuring the forces of the outside world.

An amused chuckle escaped him. Diana was probably not even helping out of kindness but out of personal interest in the Explorers. Not only had they broken into her castle, but they also seemed to have aroused a curiosity in her he couldn’t understand. Almost as if there was more than hostility and an escape between her and what had happened.

“If you’ll let me, I’d like to take care of the girl.” She turned to him briefly, and although it almost sounded like a question, Friede knew Diana wouldn’t back down. There was no room for him in her calculations.

“Fine by me.” He shrugged his shoulders. In the end, subtleties like this didn’t matter. “Then I guess I’ll take care of Amethio’s henchmen.”

“Conia!” the almost stranger hissed at him. “This time we’ll show you the Explorers are not to be trifled with!”

“Let’s see about that! Charizard, flamethrower!” Shortly afterwards, he pointed at his opponent’s Pokémon. His partner’s lightning-fast flames billowed out of its maw before bursting forth to chase the Golduck.

“Hydro pump!”

Contrary to his expectations, it countered with at least as much force, which also meant that it must have learnt something new. Golduck’s sharp jet of water hit his flamethrower with so much pressure it split the flames. Even as the hiss of the vaporising fire sent goosebumps over his body, he ordered Charizard to dodge.

His partner immediately took to the air, while Friede jumped a few metres to the side to avoid being caught by the water jet. “Give them your best air slash!”

With powerful wing beats, Charizard smashed the wind of its surroundings down on Golduck like a sickle, and although it was a little late in dodging, it escaped the attack, which carved into the ground. Still, Charizard kept up its air slash, hurling more attacks at its opponent as they danced between them. Gallant as a Liepard, Golduck evaded every cut, every damage and every attempt to knock it out.

Friede put one hand to his chin and watched the scenario unfold. This Pokémon opposite him was known to be one of the fastest swimmers in the water. However, they often showed little talent on land. On solid ground, their movements tended to be sluggish and their steps slow.

Conia’s Golduck, however, gasped with difficulty as it sought to show off its skills on land, too. It seemed as if she had trained this very weakness to make sure she could make a difference away from the water. Certainly, it would take more than that. More practice and more patience to see even greater results. But seeing a Pokémon perform to the best of its ability against its nature gave him a shallow thrill. When Pokémon pushed against their limits, they became the best proof that anyone could reach for the stars.

The smile on his lips perked up as he put his hands on his hips, ready to take them a little more seriously. This team was probably strong enough by now to cause problems even for Liko, Roy and Dot – even though these kids were growing up faster than any Sunflora on the planet.

But before Friede could turn to his partner again, he was overwhelmed by the screams of some passers-by. Something in the background collapsed, and just as he turned around, he saw flashes of flame hit the darkly billowing wall of a night daze, tiny lightning bolts streaking through a darkness that took his breath away.

“You shouldn’t lose focus!” Conia’s voice came through to him, and as his attention snapped back to her, a drop of water splashed on his nose.

The clouds in the sky had thickened, rain settled between them, and Golduck’s roar conveyed a lust for attack that denied him further distraction. Charizard, meanwhile, landed beside him.

“Hydro pump!”

Once again, Conia aimed the large attacks at him, and though it would have been wiser to send Cap into battle, a part of him refused to let this conflict, this fascination, fade away with a simple victory. A little rain was just something that weakened Charizard but didn’t drive it into a corner.

His partner acted without orders. Even before the hydro pump reached them, it took to the air once more, ready to unleash a flamethrower at its opponent. But the jet of water followed Charizard, narrowly missing one of its wings and causing it to falter. Seconds passed before the attack dried up, and instead, billowing, unsteady circles of water moved towards his partner.

“About time we took this a little more seriously...” More to himself than to anyone else, Friede took a breath. “Charizard, air slash! Get a clear path, and then, dragon claw!”

It was a simple sequence of attacks that Conia wouldn’t be able to counter. With her newfound confidence, she would go for another hydro pump; and that would break her neck.

Charizard, meanwhile, howled in approval before flapping its wings and slicing its wind crescents through the aqua pulse as if it were butter. Immediately afterwards, it swooped down on its opponent, and, as expected, Conia gave the order for another hydro pump.

As Golduck swelled its chest to collect the water inside and fire it, Charizard moved within reach. In the next blink, it lashed out. Violet energy wrapped itself thinly around its claws, and as it slammed them down on its opponent, they tore messily through its foe’s smooth skin.

The screech of Golduck made Friede grit his teeth. Pokémon battles, no matter how often he fought them, all too often turned into a dangerous game between humans. That was why he usually held back, even though Amethio had broken through this otherwise safe tactic not too long ago. The result had brought down half a castle.

Without further ado, he shook off the memory. All those hurdles were a price you paid when you went into battle with Pokémon. And in this case, it was a line he crossed as usual to fulfil his duties and live up to his big words.

“Charizard, flame—”

“Stop it!” The roar of another intervened, interrupting his command and causing him to glance towards Diana.

Arcanine was still standing, albeit panting heavily. The girl’s Zoroark, in contrast, seemed ready to fight this battle even longer. Judging by the gleam in its eyes, it was probably even capable of knocking Diana’s partner out of the way and turning its attention to him next. That she interrupted this battle seemed wasted, and yet she stepped closer.

“I’m going with you.”

Just like that. Within minutes, she had changed her mind, as if it had all been a test. But Golduck’s gasping, the Pokémon’s blood dripping to the ground, and its trainer, not knowing whether to keep attacking or try to heal her partner, put Domino’s decision into clear perspective. She was prepared to give up her freedom to avoid further harm.

“Domino!” Conia’s protest tugged the corners of her mouth downwards. “We can do this!”

Instead of answering, this girl shook her head, and for a breath it seemed impossible to consider her part of the Explorers. She didn’t seem like a part of this troupe that focussed on using dirty tricks to get what they wanted.

“Tell Amethio ... it’s better this way.” With a wave of her hand, she called her Zoroark back, then immediately bridged the distance to Diana and gave Friede a quick glance.

The way she glared at him, the sharp expression of a teenager who would get back at him one day, reminded him terribly of Amethio. It was probably a thing of this group – the most peculiar part of the Explorers, who otherwise seemed to specialise in destruction, chaos and deceit. She didn’t fit into this picture, and yet she perfectly complemented the group that Friede knew. Because Amethio played fair most of the time. His henchmen treated kidnapped Pokémon with love – at least Sprigatito hadn’t complained – and now there was this girl who gave up a fight to protect others.

“Say hello to Amethio!” Finally, Friede caught himself and raised his hand towards Conia, the chiselled smile on his features a little more honest. “If he wants her back, he should do better than when he tried to steal Liko’s pendant. Unless the Explorers can afford another defeat.”

He shrugged, and something deep inside him shook his head. He didn’t normally mock – not so obviously and certainly not in this way. But the tense atmosphere in the middle of a party and Domino’s punishing expression gave off something that wanted to be countered with clear words. As if no one else would come to win her back, even though she seemed like an important part of the whole thing.

Something in him wanted to see how far Amethio’s troupe would go.

Something in him wanted to see that anyone else out there cared for anyone at all.

Something different from what had happened to Natural.

Chapter 8: Understanding

》Boy, you're not alone with your questions.
Many people are looking for answers and don't know where to go.
Sit down together, maybe you'll find a solution.
Or find refuge in each other's arms.《

 

She looked different from the day they had taken different paths. She had been exhausted back then, but there had been hope in her eyes; big dreams and the anticipation of a world she would explore and change. Natural remembered the smile she had worn on her lips, which had become a little more cheerful after her partner, Amethio, had joined them.

Everything had seemed right that day.

But on board this airship, her radiance was missing. She seemed changed, depressed, tired of her surroundings. He closed his eyes for a moment. Was that even Domino anymore? He pressed his lips together as he moved a little behind the corner where she couldn’t see him. Of course, she was Domino. She was still the same girl. But something had knocked her down, and judging by the Poké Balls hanging from her belt, part of it had to be related to the absence of a friend.

Wordlessly, she allowed herself to be escorted inside the ship, presumably to the meeting room, so Natural exhaled and leaned against the wall. He should have approached her to talk and greet her and make her realise that people on this ship were friendly. But his legs didn’t move, didn’t seem to be of any use until those seconds when she had already disappeared.

Perhaps it was because there was a lot to talk about, even though they had only been separated for a few months. Time in which he had once again fallen into the hands of his father and in which a Pokémon had died.

Finally, he pushed himself out of his corner and forced his way to the steps leading down to the training field. The green space and the whole place – how he would have loved to see grass and trees in this place. Something that reminded him of home. Something that prevented him from looking at Hoenn and wondering what it would be like to stay.

Half in thought, he sat down on the stairs and stared into the distance. There, far beyond the horizon, everything still seemed fine. And yet it was a place that lingered in an unreachable distance. There was no way to get any closer. No matter how long he would fly towards that skyline, he would always stay in the same place.

“You here long?”

The sudden voice at his side jolted through his body before he looked to the side and spotted Mimikyu. Domino’s Mimikyu. A Pokémon that made an effort to speak the human language. Her Zorua costume head hung slightly askew, and he couldn’t help but carefully adjust the fabric. “Did Domino let you out of your ball?”

“No. I left,” she replied. Her childish girl’s voice was reminiscent of his sisters – when they had all been much younger.

“I didn’t think I’d see Domino here.”

“She sad. That’s why followed here.” Mimikyu rocked back and forth unsteadily. “She in love, but Amethio said no.”

He blinked a few times. Love was one of those sensations he’d never quite figured out. People were always preaching that there was a difference in love for family, for friends, for Pokémon and for a committed partner. And somewhere in between, there were many more nuances that complicated all of this. His father had once called it the urge to reproduce. Zoroark, however, had explained to him that reproduction didn’t always have anything to do with love.

It was a nasty mess that he had never seen through even a little. He knew he loved Domino – as a friend. He also knew he loved Ghetsis – despite everything that had happened and in spite of the knowledge that this love was wrong. And ever since he had met Friede and trusted a little more in hope every day, he also believed he felt affection for him.

“Amethio broke heart,” Mimikyu told him, “Domino sad since.”

“Why did he break her heart?” Raising his brows, he tilted his head. The last time he had seen them together, everything had been fine. Amethio had looked at her as if he would give her all the patience in the world if she just asked him to. It had been clear that there was a connection between them. “Did they argue?”

Mimikyu stopped her wiggling. “No. They were at party and very close. Almost had a kiss. But Amethio pulled back, and Domino asked, all confused.” She seemed to sigh. “He said Domino uninteresting. He doesn’t want to be close.”

He didn’t know if it was Mimikyu’s way of forming sentences, but something in this story didn’t add up. If they were close enough to share a kiss – it started from both sides – why did one of them pull away? Why had Amethio pushed her off him when he had obviously wanted the same thing?

No matter how he looked at it, it made little sense. He probably would have understood more if he’d just got up and gone to her, but his legs wouldn’t budge, and part of him held on to the idea that Domino needed some space. Air she could breathe without someone messing with the feelings in her chest.

Besides, he wasn’t Friede. He lacked the charisma to find the right words and get someone like Domino back on her feet. Someone like her needed the encouragement of a person who was a bit like her – who was everything Natural couldn’t be.

Sighing, he pulled his legs up a little to rest his forearms on his knees and hang his head. There was absolutely nothing he could say or do to improve Domino’s or his own circumstances, and it emphasised once again how little he understood of his surroundings. Everything his father had taught him was proving useless out here.

“I feel you.” Mimikyu’s distorted voice made him grin as he turned in her direction. The Zorua head shook. “Can say nothing. Can do nothing. Can only watch.”

“Do you think it will help her ... if we say nothing?”

“Better than saying wrong thing,” the Pokémon replied, and she was probably right.

Maybe it wasn’t so important that he couldn’t think of anything to lift Domino’s spirits. If he recalled the mess in Unova, Domino hadn’t done much more than be there for him. Sure, she’d also said a few things that had been terribly important to him in those breaths, but overall, she’d just been there and hadn’t left him behind when the world had collapsed on top of him.

“Hey...”

The greeting in the background made Natural glance over his shoulder quickly – up at Friede, who strode down to him with an uncertain smile before settling beside him. Close behind, Zoroark shuffled towards them, squeezing onto a step behind Natural.

“There ... isn’t much to do right now, and you look like you could use a brief distraction.”

Natural’s brows lifted. “Isn’t it more like ... you’d appreciate some distraction?”

A caught groan escaped his interlocutor as he scratched the back of his head and laughed tonelessly. “Busted... How about a match?”

Something he had already largely avoided in Unova. Fights brought his friends nothing but pain and suffering. All because they were trying to make him proud so he wouldn’t abandon them somewhere.

His mouth twisted. He’d practically pushed most of his friends away, letting them go because it was better that way, and he’d probably made the mistake Domino had once warned about. Instead of accepting the love of his team, he had pushed them away, believing he was doing everything and everyone a favour.

Would all of this have been different if he had kept his Pokémon for protection and friendship?

“I hate fighting,” he huffed, half in thought. “What’s the point?”

“The opportunity to form a bond with our Pokémon you can’t have any other way. When you face someone together and the only question is if you can survive, knowing that you can only do it together... it’s unique,” Friede replied. There was no uncertainty in his voice, no doubt that what he was saying was true.

Natural looked at him for a moment, unable to find an answer. He had fought to get Plasma out of trouble a few times before. Zekrom had gotten into a conflict with Reshiram without instructions, and in general, he had seen every feud as a hurdle and a problem until now.

“I wouldn’t mind a friendly fight. Sounds fun!” Zoroark interjected, his head thrust onto Natural’s shoulder out of nowhere. Between the green strands of his hair, his friend’s black muzzle almost looked like a mischievous grin.

“Zoroark ... agrees...” he reluctantly passed on to Friede, and while the man swung to his feet, Natural felt his tongue dry out.

Friede was probably someone who knew how to fight. A trainer who rarely lost and was always committed to his partners. Natural had learnt all these things too, drilled into him by Ghetsis, against whom he had suffered more than one defeat. Still, he pushed to his feet, clenching his sweaty hands into fists and trying not to let the memory of that time get the better of him. There was no reason to remember Zorua’s howls. All the blood and tears and Ghetsis’ screams before he had thrown a potion at their feet again and again.

“We’ll finish them!” Out of nowhere, Zoroark placed a paw on his shoulder. “We’re stronger than we ever could have been back then.”

Zoroark had been through hell and had faced the wrath of Ghetsis more than once long ago. Still, he was willing to fight, to see all this as fun – out of his own will. Not to please, nor to not disappoint anyone. It was just as Domino had said. Pokémon decided for themselves, even when they stayed with a trainer.

Shakily, Natural breathed in and out before standing at the trainer’s post and waiting to see who Friede would send into battle. But instead of pulling out a ball, he snapped his fingers and put on the brightest smile Natural had ever seen. “Let’s rock this, Cap!”

In the next blink, Pikachu chased down the stairs to throw himself onto his opponent’s side in a gallant leap, ready to win this battle. He threw his captain’s hat at Friede. They were fully committed to the task at hand, and solely to avoid disappointing Zoroark, Natural tried to focus on the circumstances.

“Double team!” In the next blink, Friede started the battle, and Pikachu let out a cheerful sound of approval before instantly doubling. Then three of them. Then four. From the fifth copy onwards, they doubled in size within a single second.

Zoroark’s ears perked up. His eyes travelled over each opponent, unable to determine the original. Natural did the same, searching for a flaw in all the illusions that lay before them and threatened to surround them in slow steps.

“Try a night slash!” They had no time to search for the original in peace. The simplest method was to reduce the crowd and corner the real Pikachu – the only idea Natural could come up with.

Zoroark followed the order and rushed towards the thunder mouse in a frenzy. Dark energy gathered around his claws and released at the same moment he slashed the paws down. Energy crashed to the ground, was deflected, and shattered a doppelganger. Simultaneously, all the other Pikachus rushed towards him. A mass attack, only one of which would do any damage.

“Sit this one out, Zoroark!” Naturals’ fingernails dug into his palms.

“Brave!” complimented Friede in the meantime. “Give it your all, Cap. Thunder punch!”

Flashing brightness clumped into a jumble of lightning that gathered at one point – the exact spot where his Zoroark stood. Raising his heavy arms, he held his defence before Pikachu’s paws of thunder rained down on him. One actually hit, striking his partner with so much force that Zoroark slid a little towards Natural. Seconds in which he swelled his chest, gathered heat and threw a flamethrower at the pack of Pikachus in front of him, barely finding his footing.

Natural held his breath for a second, undecided if he wanted to hurt Friede’s Pokémon this way. But instead of drowning in the fire, one Pikachu twitched with its tail. Immediately afterwards, it seemed to catapult itself into the air, passing narrowly over Zoroark’s attack. Gallantly, he directed his fall to the side, and as soon as he hit the battlefield, electricity gathered around his body once more. This time, however, Cap chased towards Zoroark at lightning speed, surrounded by a static buzz of blinking energy.

Somewhere in between, Friede cheered for his partner, and Natural gathered all his strength to outdo him. “Focus blast!”

Zoroark’s approving roar raised the hairs on the back of Natural’s neck. His partner lashed out, gathering his energy to collide with Pikachu’s volt tackle with full force in the next strike. Electricity thundered violently against accumulated energy. Brightness combined and spread out in all directions. It puffed up Zoroark’s fur and travelled in waves across Pikachu’s body, unable to decide which of the two possessed more power.

“Deflect the attack!” Instead of waiting, Natural threw a solution into the room. Zoroark immediately directed his paw downwards, guiding his opponent towards the ground. Then, before he could push the thunder mouse off him, lightning flashed once more before overloading with Zoroark’s energy and exploding.

The ship trembled. A strong wind tugged at Natural’s hair, causing him to raise an arm. However, he didn’t blink once. Not even when the smoke stung his eyes and tears formed on his lower eyelids. Instead, he watched as Zoroark burst out of the dark cloud, shattering it into thousands of pieces, with countless Pikachus jumping out from between them.

Raising his claws, his partner tried to use another night slash but failed at a shadow, every bit of energy travelling through its billowing body. It bounced off the ground and threw itself back upwards, threatening to hit Zoroark. With a powerful leap, he gained distance from the copies and cut two of them into pieces with a single blow while his attention glided over the remaining five Pikachus. It wasn’t until one shrouded itself in electricity, eager to make one last attempt with a volt tackle, that Zoroark’s attention turned to the original, which was already charging towards him frighteningly close.

“Flamethrower!” roared Natural at the last second, but long before Cap reached Zoroark.

The fire that his partner immediately spat towards his opponent crashed hotly into the electricity that surrounded Pikachu’s body. For a blink, Cap seemed to break through the attack but failed as the flame resistance increased. Sparks flew, burning into the ground, dancing over the green and colouring it black – until the heat took over, electricity leaked through the air and something in it caused another explosion to shake the ship.

Once again his friend was thrown back, this time landing in front of Natural and eliciting a relieved sigh from him. Zoroark was all right.

The cloud of smoke cleared at the same instant to reveal Friede. In front of him was Pikachu, exhausted and battered, but still standing. The light burn marks on his fur and the swaying of his body revealed that he had to be at his limit. But he refused to give up.

Would this fight really end like this? With another attack that would hurt Pikachu even worse?

To Natural’s surprise, however, Cap nodded at them before sitting on his bum and snorting. His ears twitched, and Friede’s laughter sounded too relaxed to worry about more damage and more attacks.

“For Cap’s sake, let’s consider this a draw.” Relaxed, Friede grabbed the back of his head before nodding at Natural. “Otherwise, Mollie’s going to give me an endless lecture about how I overdid it.”

Unable to answer, Natural nodded – only to look into Zoroark’s eyes a moment later, who had turned to him with a flourish. “Told you we could do this!”

It looked as if his partner was smiling, and although Natural didn’t feel well enough to share the joy of a halfway survived battle, he gave his friend a thumbs up. To take away his joy would be wrong.

Briefly, Natural lowered his eyes. He no longer needed the image of Liepard in his mind. There was no reason to remember here and now. So he swallowed it, banished the memory from his mind, and took a deep breath. Then he opened his lids again, just in time to see Friede bridging the last few steps to him.

“Is everything all right?” The smirk on his lips seemed forced, so Natural nodded – for the sake of the circumstances. “You shouldn’t look at a match between friends with worry. Fights like this aren’t about winning or losing. It’s about having fun and measuring yourself ... maybe even a bit about giving our Pokémon a chance to prove themselves.”

He took another step closer, and suddenly Friede was so close that Natural had to blink a few times before he realised the situation. A bit like the sudden hug that had stopped him from saying more stupid things. And strangely, it wasn’t a challenge to remain still and accept the closeness.

Then again, he had never run away from Ghetsis either, which made his standstill in those seconds not the least bit remarkable. He acted as he always did. His body stiffened, and he waited.

But in the face of Friede, he didn’t have to brace himself to get punched in the face. He didn’t have to tense his jaw so the next slap wouldn’t hurt so much.

Instead, Friede’s hands settled on his shoulders, and his friendly expression became more honest – as if he hadn’t recently done something he hadn’t quite agreed with himself. It was probably something to do with Domino.

The thought that she had probably put up a fight sent ripples through Natural’s head. Domino wasn’t a girl who simply accepted changes against her will. She fought for what she wanted and refused to obey whenever she could. That was why she had followed him after he had thought she would leave him behind. She had come for him.

A soft smile came to his lips. Zekrom had told him about it shortly before he had decided to leave Unova. Reshiram had been more than talkative in battle, and the tales of Domino throwing herself down the Dragonspiral Tower with Ghetsis overwhelmed him all at once.

“Like a demented Ditto that has forgotten it can’t fly,” the dragon had said. “Only to come up with the glorious idea that tackle works wonderfully for making rock-hard acquaintances with stairs! And then this insane woman has the guts to challenge me, even though I’ve already turned her down.”

A grin spread across his features. Not because of Domino and even less because of her insane deeds, but simply because Friede fitted this role as well. The idea of placing Reshiram next to Domino and Friede would be mind-numbing to said legend, and judging by the dragon’s sharp tongue, the lavish insults would certainly be good enough to keep them in mind for half a lifetime.

It was strange and inappropriate and didn’t suit him – not on days like these, when there were so many things he had to deal with. But he laughed. Laughed just because he couldn’t stop imagining Reshiram folding its wings over its head while Friede made reckless plans.

Raising a hand to his mouth, Natural tried to muffle the uncontrollable giggles. His whole body shook for a moment until he caught himself and took a breath, only to look at Friede, whose eyes were glued to him. They looked at each other briefly, unyielding and undecided about a thousand things they could have said.

“Laughter suits you.”

It was a simple compliment. Three simple words that left Friede’s lips without difficulty. They hung between them, a little indecisive whether they actually meant to arrive, and it was enough to remind Friede where and who they were.

Immediately, he released his grip from Natural’s shoulders to take a step back and grab his mop of hair with a twitchy grin. He was probably playing with the strap of the pilot’s goggles. “So ... well... It’s good to see you’re feeling better right now.”

Friede was worried about him; Natural had understood that much. But compared to the watchful eye that usually followed him, these seconds held something else. A hint of attention that had nothing to do with exuberant fear and endless questions. Instead, it resembled the unfamiliar affection he knew from his sisters. Warm and complimentary. Loving. Genuine.

But it was also a moment that made Friede blush a little more with each passing second, so Natural changed the subject – just like that, even though letting go wasn’t his strongest suit. “Where will the Brave Asagi fly to next?”

“Ah!” His counterpart’s tense posture immediately relaxed. “We’re going to visit a professor who might help us out a little with our research. He doesn’t travel outside this region very often, but he’s a man who knows a lot about unusual Pokémon.”

Something like this was one of the group’s real goals; Natural had realised that over the days they had eaten together. They were looking for a paradise, only to be found by a few hero Pokémon who had been there a long time ago. On board this ship, Terapagos was probably the biggest phenomenon of all, and yet Natural hadn’t been able to find a shred of interest in himself to get to the bottom of it.

“That reminds me, I should let the others know. Our destination isn’t far off.” Hands on his hips, Friede put his head back on his neck before giving Natural one last smile and finally making his way to the others with his Pikachu.

Natural stayed behind for a few breaths, surveying the battlefield and the expanse beyond. Part of him wanted to reach for infinity. The rest of him turned away to climb the stairs and settle on the top step.

Zoroark curled up behind him, a contented snort in tow, and the invading peace cradled Natural carefully in its arms. In those seconds, there was nothing he wanted to worry about; nothing that overtook his thoughts as if they were trying to strangle him.

Half caught up in his musings, he reached into his trouser pocket to pull out the only Poké Ball he hadn’t opened in a while. Inside, Zekrom slept quietly and patiently, as if giving him all the time he needed. Yet it had once warned him. It would wipe him from the face of the world when the hero in him ceased to exist.

“I suppose you ... still believe in me.” He lowered his eyelids before clutching the ball to his chest, hoping to pass on the gratitude within. Zekrom remained silent, however, as if there was no reason to start a conversation while his mind was dominated by clouds.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

The voice of another made Natural look behind him – at Domino, who had tied her white hair into a loose ponytail. The violet of her eyes looked drained.

“They helped me,” he replied slowly as she sat down beside him. For a breath, it seemed like when they had sat together on a rock, waiting for her partner while absorbing what had happened after a long day. “But not you...”

She sighed, “I don’t know. It’s true that I don’t want to be here, and I want to go home even less ... But I don’t want to be with Amethio and the others right now, either.”

“Why not?” He tilted his head. Talking to her simply washed away his own worries. “You looked so happy with them.”

“That was before I knew they were lying to me.” Domino’s lids drooped. “And also before I realised that ... my feelings are pretty damn one-sided.”

Natural sucked the air into his lungs. Domino was in love with Amethio. It was one of the most obvious secrets she had tried to keep. Not least because the way she’d looked at her partner had been unmistakable. And when he thought back to Amethio, he still thought he could see approval in the other’s eyes.

“I don’t understand why,” he said. “This Amethio ... He likes you...”

“I wish.” Her wry grin mocked herself as she turned to him. “He may like me as a member of his team, but he doesn’t love me. He ... has no romantic feelings for me.”

A subtle threshold that went over his head. “What’s the difference? He likes you, doesn’t he? And he likes being with you. Isn’t that love?”

“It’s friendly ... tolerance,” she replied, drawn out. “We like each other in theory, yes, but while I can imagine being with him every day for the rest of my life ... he can just imagine seeing me once a week and, at best, not having to talk to me. Something like that.”

Her description didn’t sound like what he had seen. It didn’t match the image of affection that Amethio had radiated when he had rushed to Domino’s aid. No one who wanted someone else to keep their distance made such an effort for their well-being.

“I think he feels the same,” Natural emphasised his thought.

“If he felt the same, he’d give me a smile from time to time. He would be happy when he saw me, and I would feel more secure at his side because I wouldn’t have to worry about annoying him. Some things would certainly embarrass him, and he would be much more likely to tense up when he says something that feels good to me.” Domino let out another sigh. “But no matter how I look at it ... I can’t shake the feeling he only paid attention to me because I’m part of his team ... and the one who listens least to what he has to say.”

Natural swallowed. Somewhere between her explanation, he lingered on the things that conveyed affection. Sporadic smiles, like Friede gave him. Joy, which Natural couldn’t feel, but which clearly faded when it gave way to disappointment at Friede’s absence. Security, which he had found in the arms of this man, without having to fear the world outside.

Folding his hands, he pressed them together until Domino leaned forward to look him in the face. “Is everything all right?”

“I... I think I like Friede that way. If what you’re describing is romantic love ... can I fall in love with him?” Was such a thing even possible? Someone like him, with an adventurous sunshine like Friede?

Domino waved it off. “You can do whatever you want if it feels good for you. But please don’t take my words so seriously.” Her gaze wandered into the distance. “Love feels different for everyone. My Toucannon ... Coro ... for him, it was a melody that touched his heart ... that led him to love. And when he saw her ... I think he just knew that this one girl was his entire dream.”

“Did you have that feeling about Amethio? That he’s your entire dream?”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t until he’d been away for a while ... that I started thinking about him all the time. I began to ... I missed Amethio, and whenever we saw each other ... I realised I never wanted to let him go again.”

“And you expected him to feel the same way?”

“No...” Exhausted, Domino rested her head on his shoulder so he could snuggle closer to her and perceive the distance of the horizon a little more picturesquely. “I was hoping he would return my feelings ... but sometimes that’s just not happening, and that’s okay. What hurts me more is that they lied to me for months.”

Following up would probably have been awkward for both of them, so Natural spared his next question and swallowed all that seemed uncertain. Around her, he didn’t need to think about the hard things in life. It was like being with Friede, only less baffling or intriguing. Instead, she gave him a safe harbour where he could breathe freely. If he closed his eyes here and now, it would be okay.

“What about you?” Eventually, however, Domino interrupted his attempt to sleep. “How did you end up here? I feel like the world has changed since you left on your journey. You’re ... pale.”

Carefully, he placed a hand on hers. A gentle touch that he hoped she understood without digging deeper than necessary. “I ran into my father’s arms and ... a few things happened...”

“He hurt you?”

“He ... reminded me ... that I’ve put up with far too much without understanding ... that it’s not normal.” He closed his eyes and let himself breathe for a moment in the pleasant blackness behind his lids. “And what followed ... I think I repressed a lot.”

“And now it’s all coming back... I understand that better than I should.” Her sigh sounded as heavy as a part of him felt. He knew about her flawed memory and the terrible flashbacks.

When they had talked about it back then, her words had been far removed from anything he had understood. He missed memories too, but that was because they were so long ago that he simply couldn’t go back to those days. Domino, however, lived with real gaps in her mind – days that someone had stolen from her. Moments that sometimes caught up with her and reappeared out of nowhere – just like all the seconds he had struggled to forget, only to relive them now, after so long.

For the first time, they were in the same boat, and although it probably connected them, Natural didn’t enjoy the position. Before he had gone his own way, everything had been better. If he hadn’t forced his way, he would now be the ruler of Unova – trapped in his father’s clutches, forced to send his friends to war.

He pressed his lips together. In reality, no path would have been better than the one he had taken in the end. Everything had a price, and what he had been willing to pay before now lurked over him, warning him how much worse things could have been. A lonely king at the head of a power-hungry country, ready to free his friends from the clutches of men and send them to their deaths for the good of the people. Over and over again. Until a rope around his neck seemed like salvation.

“It will get better ... for sure,” Domino whispered softly, causing Natural to open his eyes a crack to take in the end of the world in glorious colour. Maybe she was right. Maybe everything would get better.

“What are you planning to do?” He blinked a few times. “Are you going to have them take you home?”

“No,” she breathed, “I’ll set this ship on fire first. I’m going to get out of here. Escape and get back to my... I’m going back to the Explorers.”

“Even though they lied to you?”

“Amethio lied to me, as did Zir and Conia. Hamber is probably not entirely innocent either. But they’re not the only Explorers. So I’ll just get myself transferred. Probably to Spinel.”

“Spinel?” Part of him thought he’d heard that name somewhere before. It seemed like one of those sonorous names Zinzolin had once dropped. But he couldn’t remember the context.

If he was a friend of Domino’s, he had to be one of the good guys.

“He showed me a thing or two about Unova and made sure I didn’t fall asleep at headquarters,” she replied. “He’s a man of science, and I’m sure that if I can find a place at his side, I’ll get closer to my goal of becoming a professor quickly.”

“Does he also research Pokémon?”

“He ... uh ... not quite. For example, he has his eye on the terastal phenomenon and is also very interested in finding something that can strengthen the Pokémon in Unova. He’s researching so many things, like the Dream Mist and what it can be used for, that I’ve lost track a bit...” An apologetic giggle escaped her throat as she broke away to look at him. “But he’s just as interested in a lot of things as I am. That’s why I think ... that staying with him is the best decision. And we genuinely get on well together, so I’m sure that spending time with him will be good for me.”

“And Amethio?”

Her shoulders slumped as her smile faded. “I ... will probably have to give up on him.”

Just like that, even though it obviously pained her, and there was clearly more between them than a simple acquaintance. In moments like these, human emotions remained complex. Unconventional. A confusion he couldn’t follow because he would never have pushed Domino away if he had been Amethio. Not when the bond between them was so strong.

“Are you sure?” His brows lifted.

“It’s the best decision I can make, Natural. But hey, I’ve got my whole life ahead of me. There’s bound to be someone else out there I can like and who’ll be fine with this.”

Finally, she stood up and put her hands at her sides – as if she was really convinced of her views. She was ready to go one step further, and that was probably exactly what he lacked: the courage to face things head-on.

“I wish I could do things the way you do,” he said, almost like a breathless gasp, so he immediately raised both hands. “You just ... have everything so under control.”

“It just looks that way.” Her hands slipped off. “I’m just good at convincing myself I can do anything.” An amused snort appeared on her twisted mouth. “And sometimes that helps me make things happen.”

He nodded. If he told himself everything would get better, there was hope it would become truth overnight. Just like that. At least, if he firmly believed it and dared to put one foot in front of the other without looking over his shoulder again and again.

Without stopping.

Without doubting.

Without guilt.

Chapter 9: Memory

》Do you remember the days of sunshine, darling?
The family that was the entire forest?
The games and the love between fur and claws?
The hand you shouldn't have taken?《

“I told you not to interfere in my affairs!”

Ghetsis’ firm grip hurt his wrist. For a moment, he felt like pulling his arm away and standing up to his father, but the consequences whispered in the back of his mind. To disagree would bring the same everlasting punishment.

Still, something inside him wanted to hope. A bit like the girl he had met and had been allowed to talk to at least once in the park. The reunion outside the gym had also given him a hint of her headstrong thoughts, and that was the only reason the fight against the gym leader had been so much easier than he had imagined. Ghetsis would reward him for it.

That was the only reason he had made a detour to a sweet shop and befriended a Pokémon there that had happily passed candy to him. A Pokémon that was happy in its position. It was only because of this that the doubts had arisen in his heart with which he had approached Ghetsis.

“How many times do you want me to tell you not to bother me with such stupid questions? I have used years of myself to teach you! Stop letting obvious histrionics cause you insecurity, Harmonia!”

Perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned it. After all, he was a busy man, doing everything he could to help the Pokémon and set them free. He said this again and again, even though his partners had nothing more than mocking smiles for Natural – almost as if they were amused by his ignorance, because he understood the world a little less with each passing day.

Finally, he tore himself away from Ghetsis. “Sorry.”

The mumble on his lips remained worthless; he knew that. And when he lifted his gaze, it was a ripping pain that sent his head to the side. A metallic flavour spread across his tongue, and when he raised a trembling hand to feel the injury, blood was on his fingertips. His lip had split open.

“Don’t you dare defy me again.”

 

Gasping, Natural clutched the pillow closer to his chest and tried to summon change in his thoughts by staring at the opposite wall of his room. The days dragged by, heavy as lead, and although he had thought he would find improvement after the conversation with Domino, nothing changed. It wasn’t as easy as he had expected.

This was probably due to the nightmares that caught up with him whenever he blinked. They overwhelmed him at bedtime and sometimes took hold of him during the day too, leaving him unable to set foot outside the door for minutes or hours or even days unless it was to grab a bite to eat.

Somewhere in between, he had come across Domino now and again, incapable of speaking to her because she was always standing there in Diana’s company. There was no room for him, and it was probably best if he kept his distance.

Her ideals, her intentions, and the way she dealt with life weren’t methods he could have followed. He understood that, even if only with an agonised groan, because she made it look so easy. It certainly wasn’t, but she gave the impression that it was, and that was enough to make this strange tightness in his chest impossible to shake off. Whichever step would be the best, no one could tell him.

He had wanted to put one foot in front of the other to leave all this behind. Instead, his feet were stuck in one place, unable to move. It made getting up, eating, drinking, personal hygiene, his thoughts – everything – difficult.

The nightmares were bearable, but whenever they faded, fatigue remained. His eyelids kept falling shut, only for him to tear them open two breaths later, drenched in sweat, wondering if there would ever be an end to it all. One that didn’t involve upsetting Friede with a knife again. Not here and now, when he was busy running from one corner of the ship to the next, passing on some information to crew members while maintaining watch over his prisoner.

Somewhere in between, Natural had overheard words – knowledge that Professor Cozmo had passed on when they had landed somewhere in the middle of volcanic ash. It seemed as if the world outside his room was spinning faster than the sluggish images of his senses.

Slowly, he buried his face in the feather pillow. Instead of going around in circles non-stop, a tiny light inside him yearned for something nice. For ideas and fantasies he couldn’t have when he clung to everything bad without even once looking beyond the bitter edge. Within his own imagination, the horizon wasn’t unreachable. All he had to do was reach out, and he would be able to cradle all his dreams in his hands.

So he closed his eyes and breathed in the slightly stale scent of a human being. Then he threw the term “beautiful” into his system, just to see what his brain would come up with first.

Maybe Zoroark, how they had played in the meadows of Unova when they had both been little.

Or the days when he had been locked in his room and Zoroark had made sure they got sweets. Or double dessert. All freshly stolen from the kitchen.

To his own surprise, however, none of it emerged from behind the blackness of his perception. Instead, there was a smile. Radiant irises that looked as if they had been moulded from honey against the blue sky and the piercing white clouds. In his mind, Friede jumped with amusement across the battlefield of the flying ship. He adjusted his pilot goggles with one hand. With the other, he waved at him. Warmth flattered his tanned skin, and the white hair, held so unruly in a short tail, stretched a little towards the endless expanse.

Then Friede moved his lips, and Natural thought he heard, “Are you coming?" So, somewhere in his senses, he actually put one foot in front of the other, straight towards him. The sun was a little blinding, so he squinted. For a moment, he could see nothing. Then countless branches covered the sky. Suddenly, the light fell to the ground in artful beams, and he hopped from one spot of light to another. Next to him was Zoroark – once again a Zorua, just as they had met back then.

Together, they tried to have as little contact with the shadows of the forest as possible. Whoever lost first had to pick the berries from the top trees. A little test of courage and also a childish game that sometimes made a friendly Mightyena put its paws over its head.

He remembered the shaggy fur and the pack he had sometimes followed. The first time they had torn a Sawsbuck, tears had streamed down his cheeks. But Zorua had explained to him everything in nature had its rules. Each Pokémon only took what it needed, and the weakest were eventually wiped off this world’s face at some point. This was the only reason they all tried a little harder every day to surpass themselves. And whenever someone passed away in the forest, they accepted their body gratefully and with honour for survival.

The first few bites had been hard for him, and his thin arms had become as heavy as lead after a few chunks. He had thrown up twice afterwards, and he remembered how the Pokémon had done everything they could to help him. Somehow. Although they could have just eaten him. Instead, they had become friends, ultimately using the flames of a Darumaka to cook his meals and make them digestible.

Some told him about trainers and gyms. Others about the life of Pokémon.

A few of them had been caught and released. Not everyone had good things to say, and those who might have had something positive to contribute had never returned to the forests of Unova.

Natural didn’t remember how he had ended up in this forest or why he had started living this way. It seemed to have always been this way – until a man had come to them. A person who seemed unhappy and dissatisfied with his existence. He was looking for something – a little Yamask by his side.

Most of the Pokémon had run away back then. Natural, however, had been watching this stranger, so fascinated by an actual human in such proximity that he had realised far too late that no one else had been there but him. All while the stranger spotted him and introduced himself as Ghetsis.

It was this one day that had determined his future.

His father hadn’t taken him away immediately. He had given him time to detach from the Pokémon in the forest, who had quickly realised that an existence among like-minded people must be much easier for him than among creatures that didn’t have much in common with his own kind – not the way Natural had come to know them over the years.

And when Ghetsis had reached out to him, he had been ready to start a new chapter in his life.

It had been good for the first two years. In the third, Ghetsis talked him into things. Always lovingly, but also with harsh consequences. And then, when his father had left for Johto, everything had changed. His words became stricter. More biting. They remained loving, but he scolded him more. Repeatedly. Sometimes non-stop. All because he suddenly seemed awfully busy. For almost an entire year, before circumstances settled and Ghetsis abruptly decided it was time to prepare to conquer Unova and save the Pokémon.

There were countless books that he had read and re-read. Explanations and pictures about the legends of Unova – about the dragons Reshiram and Zekrom, which, according to Ghetsis, he would surely summon one day.

Finally, Natural opened his eyes. Despite all the pretence, Zekrom had ultimately sided with him. As if there was nothing tainted about him, even though he had been wading through mud for years without realising it.

Slowly, he sat up and put the pillow aside. Dreams, wishes and ideas that had attracted this Pokémon reigned in his heart. And despite the darkness that had been staring back at him all this time, Zekrom was still by his side – and its warning had been clear.

It was hard to believe, but this Pokémon, which he wanted to consider a friend, still had hope in him.

It hadn’t given up on him yet.

Clenching his hands into fists, he looked down at his bare feet. He wiggled his toes several times to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. Then he stood up, attempting to brush the heaviness of his memories from his body.

However, he didn’t even take a single step before someone tore open the door to his room without being asked, and Friede cheerfully raised his hand in the doorway.

“Hey!” His grin was as casual as if they had agreed to meet for a day at the beach. “I just wanted to stop by and remind you to check in with Mollie before she accuses us both of irresponsibility.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “Or mostly me...”

“Ah...” Natural fell powerlessly into bed, back into that sitting position that had seemed so powerful to him before. “I’ll... think about it.”

“You’ve been stuck here for a while,” Friede continued as he leaned into the frame and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Are you all right?”

“I ... think so. It’ll get better,” Natural replied.

That was probably a lie. One of those statements that people always uttered without thinking about it, because it was easier to confirm something than to explain it. When had he started to shy away from conversations about himself so much, when he had embraced the world as a child?

He slowly lowered his head. At least it felt a little less bad when he didn’t have to look at Friede. It gave him a little distance, the pale illusion that he wasn’t talking to anyone other than himself.

But the mirage shattered as the mattress gave way under the weight of another, and Natural lifted his head to look into Friede’s golden eyes. The thin smile on his lips silently spoke some encouragement to him, and as they sat there, shoulder to shoulder, it almost seemed okay to be distracted by him and everything Natural had missed.

“You don’t talk to Domino much,” he began slowly.

“She ... is just like me ... at a point where it’s better to give each other some ... air.”

Friede’s nod promised understanding before he leaned back and propped himself up on his hands. “I can see why you like her. She proved on Mt. Chimney that she doesn’t shy away from anything. That’s the quality friends excel at.”

Tilting his head slightly, Natural tried to imagine what she had done this time. Knowing Domino, she had probably thrown herself off somewhere again. Strangely enough, she didn’t seem to have any fear of abysses. He had heard it from his father and also from the experiences she had told him. Whenever necessary, she jumped – with or without a plan in mind.

She showed courage that brought a smile to his lips. Somehow, it was this little light that people like her and Friede radiated that allowed him to find warmth inside. A small, warm spot that had been completely foreign before.

“Are you really going to ... take her home?” Brows raised, Natural glanced back at Friede. “Even though she doesn’t want to?”

His friend pursed his lips briefly and shrugged his shoulders. “That’s the plan. It’s not in my hands to interfere in family problems any more than necessary. The only question I have is whether we will get that far. They haven’t shown up yet, and Dot hasn’t been able to find any new messages on Domino’s Rotom, but the Explorers aren’t just going to stand by and watch us take a member away from them.”

“They will come...” It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t a statement, either. A part of Natural hung somewhere in between. If he thought back to Amethio, they would never abandon Domino. Then again, something in him had begun to believe that maybe she was right and he had misjudged this boy’s affections.

However, her explanation of how she felt didn’t match what he had seen. It remained a confusion that one of them didn’t understand, and he wanted to believe it was Domino. In addition, when he looked at Friede, there was this warmth, this feeling of strangely unusual security that sometimes even let him sleep peacefully. If Domino’s doubts were the truth, this feeling in his chest would probably be nothing more than a lie, with no meaning.

“Maybe you should come with us next time,” Friede suggested. “It’s better to spend time together while you can. And who knows, maybe you’ll help each other against –”

Sudden thunder rumbled through the walls, followed by a tumultuous swaying that threw him backwards against Friede. As if out of nowhere, the other’s arms wrapped around him, struggling to give them both support that didn’t exist. Instead, they slid across the bed a little, crashed into the adjacent wall and shortly afterwards remained motionless, pressed against each other.

“What was that?” A mixture of horror and unease escaped from Friede’s throat, while Natural clung silently to the sleeves of the man behind him. All he could hear was the shaking of the Brave Asagi.

Only when there was no further swaying, but the tilting of the ship remained, did Friede carefully push him aside to jump up and move towards the door. Natural did the same, forced himself to stand on his unsteady legs and immediately clung to the metal frame of the entrance to look down the corridor with Friede.

At first, no one seemed to be there. The next, Mollie hurried around the corner, leaning against the wall to wave at them. “Friede! We’ve been attacked!”

“Attacked? By whom?”

“The Explorers!” She painstakingly got closer until she finally reached the two men. “One of the Pokémon damaged the light structure containing the helium.”

Instead of answering, Friede blinked a few times. Natural watched him do so, studying the vivid incomprehension on the other’s face and feeling the tinge of relief inside at the same time. They had come to get Domino. Just as he had expected.

“Ludlow’s trying to get us safely down to –”

Mollie got no further before another jolt coursed through their bodies, and Natural thought for a breath he was losing his footing. His fingers clutched tighter at the doorframe, giving him extra support, until heavy rocking caused him and Friede to collide and Mollie to be forced back. She squeezed her eyes shut while Friede grabbed her shoulder with one hand. Simultaneously, he pressed Natural to the frame, and though stinging pain ran through his shoulders, he welcomed the adventurer’s strange warmth.

The swaying only lasted for three breaths before coming to a halt, and each of them breathed a sigh of relief.

“Landing safely on Route 118...,” Mollie finished her sentence. “I think we’ve reached the ground.”

Friede’s toneless laugh was accompanied by a tense grin. The corners of his mouth twitched, and as close as he was to Natural, it seemed impossible to miss even the slightest changes in his face. The sweat on his forehead was glistening, his expression was flushed and his body looked so stiff that Natural hardly dared to push the trainer away.

“They’ve got us right where they want us,” Friede pressed out before breaking away from Natural and running off, presumably to check out the spectacle outside the ship.

Natural stayed behind, watching him, unable to muster the same energy. In addition, this wasn’t his battle out there. There was nothing he could have contributed to help anyone out there. Not least because he was on Domino’s side.

“Are you okay?”

Mollie’s question touched him somewhere on the side, so he agreed with a barely perceptible grumble – unable to take his eyes off the path Friede had taken. Everything in him hoped Domino would find her escape. The rest of him longed for Friede to walk through this dispute unscathed, without taking more damage than necessary. Neither Charizard nor Pikachu deserved to be dragged into a battle whose sole purpose was to keep a girl in this place when she would much rather be somewhere else.

“Friede will be fine.” Mollie spoke to him again, but this time, she turned Natural’s attention in her direction. The gentle smile on her face and the warm expression in her eyes left no room for doubt. Then she lowered her eyelids. “And I’m sure you’ll be able to spend even more time with Domino!”

His shoulders tensed. Whatever had given him away hadn’t gone unseen. He wiped his damp palms on his trousers several times. Only then did he nod. “I hope so.”

At least when they had both arrived at a better place in life one day. On one of those days when the sun was warm and people embraced each other joyfully. Seconds in which Pokémon danced around happily, and there wasn’t a single worry in the sky. Maybe then, at some point.

He briefly lowered his lids, hoping to imagine a scene like this. But the explosions outside avoided even a spark of peaceful delusion. That’s why his interest returned to Mollie, whose attention had drifted to the exit. Presumably she was also hoping for Friede’s safe return. After all, he was the one who kept this group together.

That was no doubt why he was so nice.

His job was to get the best out of his companions and eliminate discord. At least when Natural focused on seeing Friede in the best light. In that warm glow in which he had seen him when he had let him lead him onto this ship.

His hands tightened on the doorframe once more.

Then he closed his eyes and waited.

Chapter 10: Feelings

》He is marvellous, isn't he, my child?
Beautiful and strong, with a smile like the sun.
Let me tell you, he sees you.
With eyes full of innocence.《

 

The clock in the meeting room was ticking. No one seemed to be within reach, and the only thing that occasionally reached Naturals’ ears was the hammering sound from Orio. He listened to the blows, the passion, as he sat down on a chair and surveyed the room. Next to him, there was only silence.

The battle against the Explorers had passed quicker than expected. At some point, the explosions had stopped, and he and Mollie had slipped outside to survey the damage. Friede had been standing in front of the ship, his hands clasped at his sides, a heavy sigh on his lips.

The damage consisted of a hole that had been torn in the upper air tank. Wood hung in pieces from the outer foil, and some parts that were still connected showed cracks and breaks that would only get worse with time. Orio had thrown her hands up somewhere in between, while the children had shared their worries and Diana had laughed heartily. In the end, the circumstances hadn’t upset anyone, though Natural had been sure they were all attached to the Brave Asagi.

Instead, Murdock had made a great meal, and everyone had concluded that it would take work to pay for the damage. Orio would get the Asagi up and running again, and everyone else would take care of the cost of materials and extras. Tasks Natural had wanted to get involved in, only to be rejected along with the children.

He should rest, according to Friede. For his own good. Because it was important to stay on track and not try to run away from his own ghosts by drowning himself in work. Probably.

But between the quiet inside this ship and the fact that there was no one around but Ludlow and Orio, Natural couldn’t find peace. The children explored Mauville City, near which the ship had found an anchorage. Friede and Murdock had found jobs in a restaurant, Mollie was helping at the Pokémon Center, and Diana was helping others find lost items. Everyone had a job of some kind, something to keep them going. Natural, however, was stuck on this ship, a little as if he had been locked in a cage that took his breath away.

Briefly, he took another look at his watch before mustering all his willpower to escape this monotony. He hadn’t set foot among other people for weeks. It was time to take a step and surround himself with other souls and Pokémon again.

Slowly, he made his way into the corridors of the Brave Asagi, where Zoroark met him, his ears pricked up and his walk a lively up and down. “Are we leaving?”

“Just ... to get to know a little of Mauville.”

His friend’s lively movements faltered. “Take me with you! I won’t stand out at all!”

Natural didn’t get a chance to argue before Zoroark’s form morphed into a human – a young man with wild, black hair and glasses on his nose which barely matched his mischievous grin. “People won’t even notice me! After all, I speak their language.”

A gentle grin spread across Natural’s features. When was the last time they had travelled together to get to know something that was otherwise foreign to them? “Just don’t try to play too many tricks on anyone.”

Zoroark’s joyful bounce held little hope of him keeping to that wish, but it was enough to heighten the anticipation of leaving this ship a little. Out there, alongside his best friend, he had nothing to worry about. This illusion he had built up was strong enough not to collapse at the first collision with anyone. Together, they were safe, strong and probably even free.

No matter how Natural looked at it, it eased his steps to lead him out almost effortlessly. The grey shirt on his body and the black jumper underneath gave him enough warmth to get through the short walk to Mauville, and as he wiped his cold sweaty hands on his beige trousers, surrounded by countless strangers, his heart raced only half as wildly as he’d expected. His legs carried him forward, into the enclosed inner life of this city that existed as a huge department store. Hotels nestled next to shops and small staircases leading to flats above small shops. Everyone who lived in this place kept their heads above water by selling goods, which found their customers in tourists who seemed to come from everywhere. Some wore colourful clothes covered in flowers; others wore simple things that barely stood out. In between, there were kimonos with fur collars, trouser suits, thick jackets and men in shirts.

He watched most of them longer than necessary, and when he heard a small outcry somewhere in between, his hand automatically reached to the side. But Zoroark was missing, and as he whirled in the direction from which he had heard the protest, he spotted a woman who found herself chained to another woman’s wrist with plush handcuffs.

“Where did...?”

“From that toy shop over there.” Out of nowhere, a hand placed itself on Natural’s shoulder, causing him to snap his head to the side, only to catch sight of Zoroark’s snicker. “Handcuffs for Halloween.”

The hinted shop offered so many costumes it hardly surprised him to find such items there. However, the circumstances of these women were unpleasant. There was nothing to laugh about. Just an old memory of how he himself had once spent time tied to a wooden post, beaten and humiliated, begging for someone else’s life.

Immediately he averted his eyes and moved again. Zoroark followed with a sound of surprise until he placed a hand in Natural’s. Despite the illusion, he felt his best friend’s fur.

“Is it a memory? I didn’t want you to remember anything unple-“

“It’s all right,” Natural sighed. “It’s not your fault.”

It never would be, just as the memories would never let him go. They were probably already a part of him, deeply intertwined in his soul, eager to see who was stronger: him or them?

Zoroark didn’t let go of his hand the whole way to the restaurant where Friede and Murdock worked. The rush of people fighting for a seat seemed endless. Some shoved each other; others battled to decide who got the last free seat. Natural squeezed between them, unnoticed, unseen, only to be spat out inside the room full of words and tables. Waiters pushed their way from one customer to another. Tables became free, only to be occupied again immediately after.

Only one seat further back, tucked away in the far corner of the room, was deserted. It seemed so secluded that Natural was literally drawn to it. Nobody got in his way, followed him or tried to get ahead of him.

This small single seat in the corner belonged to him alone – and somehow to Zoroark, who looked around with round eyes and then stole a chair from another table unseen. This way, they found seats at the same small table without having to move more than necessary.

While Zoroark looked around absent-mindedly, watching the passers-by and amused by the fights and arguments, Natural scrutinised the waiters. A few women brought drinks. Two men tried to carry as many plates as possible. He felt his shoulders slump briefly. Friede didn’t seem to be there, and the thought that he had perhaps decided to take another job at short notice seemed like the only logical explanation.

Until the door to the kitchen swung open and a man with white hair tied in a small ponytail stepped out. With two full plates in his hands, he took long strides towards one table, and although he recognised Friede immediately, it seemed impossible to avert his gaze. His fringes, usually held back by his aviator glasses, fell over his face in a perfect side parting. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Friede like this, but it was probably the first time he’d noticed it.

His tanned skin nestled nicely against the white shirt, which blended almost seamlessly into a black apron and equally dark trousers. In those seconds, the adventurer in him no longer seemed present, giving way instead to a man who looked like he’d been working in this place for years.

The way he balanced the plates was flattering to his forearms. Suddenly they seemed just as strong and secure as they had in the seconds Natural had been held by them. A touch that he longed for in those seconds. A part of him wanted to get closer to Friede, to jump up and throw himself once again into those arms that had once protected him from the world.

When he was close to Friede, all the things that usually crashed down on him seemed much less overwhelming. Looking at this almost stranger, the memories no longer mattered. In these breaths, he could slowly put one foot in front of the other and be a little more honest with himself. Then it was easy to admit the fear choking his throat, how he dreaded seeing his father at every turn and how much he wished he could live up to Domino’s expectations. That he could still do something great once he really got to know this world – away from hatred, destruction and a hell he would have preferred to forget.

The gentle throbbing in Naturale’s chest began to flutter at the same moment as Friede placed the orders on the tables and turned away – only to find his eyes lingering on him. The charming smile on his lips greeted him, and the shallow lip movements, which presumably signalled he would spare Natural some time as soon as possible, burnt hotly on said man’s skin.

“Is everything alright?” Zoroark tilted his head as he pursed his mouth and tried to slide a hand across the table to rest it on Natural’s fingers.

“I ... don’t know.” Natural quickly averted his eyes and turned his attention to his best friend. “There ... There’s this tingling in my stomach.” He shook his head. “When I look at Friede, I feel ... nervous.”

“Nervous? Why?”

Instead of answering, he shrugged his shoulders. It wasn’t a bad feeling; it didn’t call for flight or caution. Instead, it yearned to get closer to the adventurer and to be lulled into the sense of security he had once, a very long time ago, felt as a child in the forest. Almost as if Friede was part of his home. A place where he wanted to stay.

Perhaps that was what Domino felt too. Affection that clung to someone who had been kind to him.

He bowed his head. That wasn’t it. Domino had helped him too, had reached out to him – just like Zoroark and a few members of Plasma who, despite everything, had always been on his side and had been fooled by Ghetsis as much as he had. None of them had ever left a tingle. Of course, Domino was one of those people with whom he felt safe and at home, but she didn’t make him feel nervous. Not like Friede did with his smile. Or with his attention – with his mere gaze.

“Maybe there’s someone we need to watch out for.” Lifting his nose, Zoroark looked around. “Don’t worry, I’ll find danger before it reaches us! And then I’ll tie its shoelaces while we run away, yeah?” A mischievous grin spread across his lips. “We can do this. Together.”

Natural wanted to disagree, wanted to brush the worry from his friend’s fur and break the illusion between them. But Zoroark was trying so hard that he couldn’t bring himself to say otherwise. After everything that had happened, his best friend was trying to keep his rogue under one roof with the important things and events – so as not to be a burden and cause more suffering that plagued Natural’s body relentlessly.

So he merely attempted a small smile. “Thank you.”

Zoroark’s chest swelled before he hastily glanced over his shoulder to comment on Friede’s sudden greeting with a grumble. Natural barely kept up. In the same breath that he noticed the adventurer being so close, his body faltered – like a Pokémon whose paws had been pinned to the ground.

“I didn’t expect you to come here.” Friede’s voice teased him as he stopped at the table and put his hands on his hips. “Can I get you anything? On me.”

With an effort, Natural pulled his hand from under Zoroark’s to lift it. Refusing sounded easy. A simple “No, thank you”, and Friede would go back to his work. But Zoroark beat him to it.

“Is there anything for Pokémon? I’m starving!”

Cheerful laughter combined with a quick thumb over his shoulder. “All you have to do is go to the kitchen, and Murdock will put so much food in front of you that you won’t be able to eat for the next four days!”

The gleam in Zoroark’s eyes reached over to Natural for a breath. Then his best friend jumped up and hurried over to the kitchen door, behind which probably no one but Murdock would recognise him as a Pokémon. He didn’t even mind leaving Natural behind. Probably because Friede was there. A man they both trusted.

Half in thought, Natural almost didn’t notice how the other sat down in the chair opposite him. It was only his question that brought the world back into focus. “You manage between all these people?”

Natural nodded. “It’s ... a bit exhausting. But I needed ... a change.”

“As I said, you can order whatever you like.” The corners of Friede’s mouth looked unshakeable. “I’ll get the bill paid.”

“You enjoy ... working here?”

“It’s a change,” he replied. “They pay well here because sometimes you have to intervene in the brawls. But I can’t imagine having to do something like this for the rest of my life.”

“No?”

“Can you imagine me serving here every day?”

Friede sounded almost scornful of the idea, and if Natural hadn’t seen him in this position, it would have been hard to imagine him in this place. This man was too freedom-loving for that. Too unbound. Too busy conquering the world in his own way.

But seeing him in this outfit lent him a charm that only emerged in an adventurer when he took a second look at his clothes. Well-dressed and handsome – not that Friede wasn’t already nice to look at apart from that – so it was hard to look in any other direction. It forced images into Natural’s head that he only knew from his sisters’ crushes. The idea of sliding his hands underneath Friede’s clothes and touching him, getting to know him like no one else did. The idea of what it would feel like if he put his lips on the other’s, trying a human kiss – a little differently, like Pokémon did.

Ghetsis hadn’t prepared him for such things. He hadn’t even bothered to explain more than necessary because everything important had been limited to Unova. In his father’s world, he probably would have married Domino and reproduced with her to produce children who could inherit the legacy of the dragons – raised and trained by Ghetsis’ hand.

That would have become a topic over the next five years.

However, in these seconds, he sat at a table with Friede, detached from all his father’s demands, ignorant and a bit lost in the face of all things that suddenly seemed so tantalising.

“If you don’t say something, I’ll take that as a yes...” Friede’s terse despair barely broke through to him but still dragged him out of his thoughts. His smile had disappeared. Instead, a hint of horror hung on his features, and although it probably wasn’t right, the corners of Natural’s mouth twitched upwards.

And between the doubts, the unease inside and the gentle amusement at the corners of his lips, Natural slipped out words that he would have preferred to keep in his head. “I think ... you look good.”

Friede sighed. “You sound like I don’t always look good. I would even say that my style is really cool...”

If Friede had been a Pokémon, it would probably have been a Pikachu, which would have dropped its long ears and slumped down until it was just a yellow blob. Kind of cute. Somehow not at all what you should say to a grown man, but it still elicited a soundless laugh from Natural – louder than that would only have attracted unwanted attention.

“Will you at least place an order to distract me from my newly acquired misery?” Tilting his head, Friede shook off the obvious compliment before giving Natural a mischievous smile.

This time, Natural managed to raise his hand and decline. Quite simply. As if there was no reason to fear the outcome, because all Friede had left for him was kindness. Gentle encounters that kept Natural in place while forcing him to look at the gleaming gold in Friede’s eyes for longer than necessary – until his counterpart smirked.

“What is it?” His question, light as a feather, seemed gentle enough to draw everything out of Natural. Simultaneously, he tried to keep his tongue in check.

Don’t say the wrong thing.

Humans were strange with affection.

Still, his heart was pushing things up his throat that he didn’t want to hold back. Just this once, he wanted to acknowledge and reveal his feelings. Unlike back then. Contrary to everything Ghetsis had taught him.

“When ... I look at you, I feel somehow ... better,” he began slowly. “A bit as if nothing could happen when ... you’re around.”

“No one will take you away,” Friede replied. “You know you’re safe with us.”

“With you,” Natural countered. “It’s ... different than that. Separate from ... simple safety.” He lowered his head. Each word that rolled off his tongue sounded a little more miserable than the one before. “If I can look at you, then ... I wonder what it would be like ... to kiss you. What it would be like ... to find protection in your arms.” He had no choice but to raise his eyes again and look at Friede – straight into the stunned face of a man who was the complete opposite of himself. “We’ve only known each other ... recently, but I think ... there’s more. In me.”

And perhaps that was because of his circumstances – knowledge that he removed from his words in order to appear a little more reasonable instead. Friede would probably have thought about all of this non-stop. Or he wouldn’t even take it seriously.

But to Natural’s surprise, Friede didn’t laugh. The straightforward statement turned into thoughtfulness, in which he put a hand to his chin and pursed his mouth as if he was considering the same aspect: affection through rescue. A bit like an outcast Pokémon experiencing love for the first time.

It was a while before Friede let out a knowing hum. “It’s probably love.”

“You think so?” Natural’s heart pounded like crazy.

“I think you’re able to tell the difference between love and gratitude. Although ... maybe it’s not as strong as love. Maybe it’s more like ... affection. Like a crush.”

The same feeling Domino had endured. A girl who was so much more loveable than he was and yet had been rejected by someone he had thought would appreciate her character. If it didn’t work for her, how could it work for someone like him, somehow twisted and lost in the face of a man who seemed like the sun?

Was there anything about him that could be loved? A spark that attracted others and didn’t just cast him in the light of a wounded boy who understood far too little about people and their actions outside of conventional violence?

“I didn’t expect we’d ever have a conversation like this.” Friede laughed nervously, a little distorted, somehow inappropriate, as if he was forcing himself to do so because it was part of his niceness.

It was probably the answer Natural was looking for. As he was, in those seconds, there was nothing endearing about him. It was just as Ghetsis had said. He would probably get to know the world outside of Plasma, but he would realise that there was as little room for him in this place as there had once been in Unova.

The sudden tightness in Natural's stomach twisted several times, causing him to hunch his shoulders and clench his sweaty hands into fists. His heart was still racing, beating up to his neck by now, and just as Friede opened his mouth to say something, he jumped up so quickly that the chair behind him hit the wall.

Part of him didn’t want to hear it.

Even worse.

Nothing in him wanted to be exposed to Friede for even a second longer.

Suddenly, the tingling inside him was no longer pleasant but resembled thousands of Caterpies crawling over his body, leaving burning trails. It was the same kind of flight reflex that had once overcome him when he had run away from Domino with Zekrom. The desire to disappear and do the only thing he seemed good enough to do: follow orders.

But in the middle of this newfound freedom, there were no orders. No one expected anything from him. No one cared about his next move, and even as Friede raised his hands and slowly stood up, Natural felt his breath burning hot across his lips. Bile seemed to push its way up his throat, causing his legs to move of their own accord. He took off running. Just like that. Away from Friede, from the people in his immediate vicinity, and also from the bit of responsibility he had thought he could embrace.

He hurried along the shops far too quickly. The world that was crashing down on him barely reached him. Everything was twisted. Nothing fit together. Somewhere in between, he bumped into someone and didn’t apologise. The desire to escape drove him on, causing him to bump shoulders and trip over his own legs until he reached the late afternoon of the outside world. The sun was threatening to set somewhere behind the mountains as Natural propped himself up on his knees and tried to take deep, slow breaths.

Yet he only paused for a blink of an eye before his restlessness drove him onwards, a little way towards the half-dead meadow on this route, which he couldn’t name. It was only when he steadied himself near a rock that calm fell over him. He swallowed dryly, trying to catch, to compose, to convince himself of something that wasn’t taking shape in his head.

“It doesn’t matter,” he then gasped. “It doesn’t matter; it doesn’t matter.”

Really? It doesn’t matter to you? Something inside him protested, refusing to accept all of this. This weakness, which he wanted to overcome, tugged at him, gnawed at his conscience and simultaneously refused to allow him to walk away for even a breath.

“No,” he replied to his thought.

The silence that followed roared in his ears. Almost as if his innermost being was accepting this misstep. If he saw Friede on the ship again in the end, all that had happened would be forgotten. He would laugh it off, and Natural would be grateful. It was very simple. Terribly uncomplicated.

And then, certainty struck him like a bolt of lightning. It did matter to him.

“Maybe.” It seemed impossible to swallow this confession. He wasn’t as skilful at it as his sisters. “But it’s not good to ... admit it.”

Not a single word on his lips seemed liberating. Instead, it reminded him of the shackles that had once bound him to a stake. Of all the days when he had wanted to admit something to himself, only to fail completely. Until he had simply accepted it.

Would it end like this again?

Would he focus on one thing and push everything else away, like a pawn following a single, ridiculous ideal – without character, without life, without genuine passion?

“I thought for a moment that my eyes were deceiving me.”

The sudden voice in the background startled Natural, forcing him to whirl around and look straight into the face of a man whose friendly wrinkles were nothing more than an illusion. Still, this guy brought his hands together in front of his chest, and his smile widened slightly.

“It’s good to see you again, young Master Harmonia.”

Chapter 11: Past

》Breaks aren't demons.
Neither in a conversation nor in an interaction.
They show thoughtfulness,
of a person who is carefully considering how
they want to treat you in the next moment.《

 

His gaunt face, short snow-white hair and overly thick purple coat – in the short time that people had raided Plasma to arrest most of them, he hadn’t changed a bit. If Natural hadn’t known better, it wouldn’t even have occurred to him that only a fraction of Plasma still existed.

Clenching his hands into fists, Natural took a step back. A movement that was immediately followed by an approaching Zinzolin.

“As you probably know, only a few members of Plasma got away. The other members of the Seven Sages, apart from Master Ghetsis, have all been arrested,” he explained in a raspy voice. “But we are still determined to change this world for the better. In that respect, I am very glad to have found you, Master Harmonia.”

He wanted to correct him, to make it clear he was no longer a part of his father. The connection – Harmonia – was one thing he wanted to discard. Another aspect of power he no longer wanted to allow his father to have.

Instead, he remained silent, unable to loosen his dust-dry tongue from his palate.

“We searched all of Unova for you,” Zinzolin continued before reaching out his hand towards Natural. “I must ask you to come with me.”

Once again, Natural’s heart leaped to his throat. His legs felt frozen, almost unwilling to run away. Sweat gathered under his clothes, every breath scratching his throat. Simultaneously, his thoughts were racing. This old man in front of him wasn’t a powerful fighter – at least he wasn’t strong enough to take on a Pokémon like Zekrom. Whatever Zinzolin was planning, there was no reason to fear. He had the upper hand. No one could bring him back to this place.

But before his fingers could grasp his friend’s ball, Zinzolin raised a finger. His mouth opened, but no words came out as his lips twisted into an ugly smile. The next second, something crashed into Natural’s head, stinging his neck and enveloping the world around him in a dark curtain of night, in which he lost himself.

 

---

》 HARMONIA 《

---

 

Coldness tugged at Natural’s body as he fluttered his eyes open. The ground beneath him felt smooth, a little slippery. His skull throbbed, eliciting a painful gasp from him. Somewhere in between, he sat up, one hand pressed to his head. Every movement felt like someone was hitting him with a baseball bat.

It took a few breaths before the dim surroundings took shape and he realised his circumstances. Glass formed an impenetrable wall around him. The world outside seemed empty, resembling a storage room in which he was the only thing that existed. As he scanned every inch of the room with his eyes, his fingers moved to his hip. To where his trouser pocket and Zekrom should have been. To where, suddenly, only skin awaited him.

He looked down at himself in a flash. His clothes were missing. His naked, pale body was all that met his gaze – still bruised in places and not quite healed. He immediately pulled his legs close to his upper body.

“I see you’ve woken up.” Zinzolin’s sudden voice pierced him like a thunderclap, causing Natural to shrug his shoulders. “We removed your clothes at Master Ghetsis’ command to remind you who gave you all these things in the first place.”

Not even in the forest, among Pokémon, had he ever felt so vulnerable. Even in his earliest memory, there had been clothes on his body, probably a gift from the people who had left him there. He had only taken them off to bathe – a usually quick endeavour, because the bruises and torn skin from playing burnt like fire.

Sitting naked in a glass box was different. It left him completely defenceless. It turned him into one of those Pokémon found on the black markets of Unova. Somehow battered, frightened, and exposed in the sight of humans despite their fur, scales or feathers.

“Besides, we had to make sure you didn’t suddenly grab something we couldn’t counter.” Demonstratively, Zinzolin held Zekrom’s ball in his direction. “In the end, you’re still just a creature from the forests of Unova.”

A creature. Not quite human and not quite Pokémon. Something in between that people explored with great interest but never embraced. His gaze lowered. The tightness in his chest resembled the pain he had felt in the last seconds with Friede. The certainty that he wasn’t good enough to be loved in the same way he loved some people. His identity fluctuated too much for that. His senses clung to unpleasant memories, and part of him had turned into a lost mess that he himself didn’t quite recognise most days. All triggered by a single decision and the death of a Pokémon.

“Tell me, young Master Harmonia, who brought you to this place? Hoenn is far from Unova.” Nonchalantly, Zinzolin stepped in front of the glass box and looked down at Natural. The mocking gleam in his eyes betrayed dislike, a hint of disgust, and perhaps even pleasure. “Or did you beg your way to this place? I wouldn’t be surprised if other people in this world were interested in someone like you as well.”

Instead of answering, Natural looked away. There was no reason to look at this man, just as there was no reason to answer. These circumstances were simply something he had brought upon himself. In those seconds, it seemed easy to understand. If he hadn’t run away from Friede, Zinzolin wouldn’t have found him. If he had at least taken Zoroark with him when he fled, he would have noticed the enemy long before it came to this. Back then, in the forests of Unova, he still had the ability to sense danger from afar. The big city and his isolated room had dulled his senses.

His lips pressed together, Natural dug his nails into the flesh of his legs. The cold of the warehouse penetrated to his bones. The trembling of his shoulders didn’t warm him, yet it caused sweat to form, which settled on him like ice. And like this, it seemed impossible not to think of Friede’s gentle embrace. Someone who would hold him close and assure him that everything would be all right while he sat there uselessly, unable to find a way out.

When had he ever pulled himself together and accomplished anything without help? For as long as he could remember, most things had been handed to him on a plate. First, the path that had led him into Ghetsis’ hands. Then his father’s task of becoming the hero of a region. Finally, Domino’s judgement and Zoroark’s rescue. And now, in these seconds, he wished for someone to continue this pattern. Someone to free him from this situation, to take him far away from this place. Was it too much to ask, simply to hope, because he didn’t have enough confidence to take the necessary step himself?

“I can understand that you don’t want to answer me. But rest assured. I will find out what happened. No one wants you to carry around unwanted parasites when your task is to die for the liberation of the Pokémon.” Natural heard a snort. “I meant, of course, for the rise of a true king, after you have become a tragic hero.”

Finally, Zinzolin turned away from him. Natural watched as the other’s legs moved out of his field of vision until he eventually heard the warehouse door slam shut. With his head resting on his knees, he tried to take his mind off things – to find some distraction that would make the cold a little more bearable. There was nothing he could do. Robbed of his belongings and locked in a glass box that would certainly not shatter if he threw himself against it, there was no escape.

Zekrom sat in its ball at Zinzolin’s side, and it wasn’t a Pokémon that would help of its own accord. If he didn’t get a chance to get his hands on the ball, there was no way to escape. All that remained for Natural was weakness. Self-contempt. Disgust at his decisions. Hopelessness that threatened to suffocate even the last glimmer of optimism.

Only the idea of standing by Friede’s side and learning to appreciate the world again gave him a little inner security. In his fantasy, he didn’t run away. He no longer faced things out of pressure or fled from them because fear was stronger than the courage deep inside him. Instead, he reinvented himself, connected both sides and became a Natural he could look up to. A young man who didn’t know what he wanted from life but was willing to move forward until he found his purpose. Someone who brought a smile to others’ lips and reminded them that kindness and helpfulness were an important part of human existence.

Natural.

Natural Harmonia Gropius.

A boy who was no longer disgusted by his name.

In his imagination, he had the strength to do so. Even when the dark waves washed over him and he remembered Ghetsis, the shot Liepard, the beatings and cane blows, it seemed easy to rise above it all. The Natural in his head wasn’t afraid of the consequences of his own decisions. He carried himself. And he was not ready to die.

Clenching his teeth, Natural narrowed his eyes. After all the effort that had been put into him, he owed it to the people around him to at least stay alive. Friede had saved him. He had kept him from the end. Just like Domino, who had thrown herself into battle to protect him from his father. From a man who would kill him as soon as he returned to Unova.

He couldn’t die.

He didn’t want to die.

But his strength waned with every breath he took. The cold in this place burnt in his muscles, weakening him and leaving him numb and abandoned. Unable to maintain his tense posture any longer, his legs slid away from his upper body. His back bumped against the glass behind him. The little warmth in his chest vanished in a single breath, and his mind laughed at the desires that suddenly spread through him.

Was it too late to become a better version of himself? Would he freeze to death before he found out?

He blinked a few times. Behind the glass, in this warehouse, he thought he heard distant children’s laughter. Exhausted, he tilted his head, only to see a little boy gliding through the emptiness with joyful leaps. Whenever his feet touched down somewhere, grass broke through the concrete. He left behind a trail of nature, a touch of peace and laughter that brought a smile to Natural’s lips. Dressed in old, worn-out rags, this child didn’t care what the next day would bring. He lived in the moment.

Briefly, Natural lowered his eyelids.

He had once been like that too. Free and happy. The forests had been his home, the Pokémon his friends, and the humans a strange constant in between. He had laughed, dreamed, enjoyed the sun on his skin and felt the meadow under his toes.

Growing up had stolen most of the beauty from those memories, and yet in those seconds he remembered how carefree the world had been back then. Beautiful and kind, just as he himself had wanted to be. Even after everything Ghetsis had given him, that was still a part of him. Something that still lay dormant within him – damaged and twisted, but still there.

If only he could have one more chance...

The sudden click of the door made him open his eyes again. The child had disappeared, and the meadow was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he spotted Zinzolin, accompanied by two members of Plasma, who didn’t dare to look at Natural.

“It’s time to go.” With a key in his hand, Zinzolin unlocked the glass box so that one of his henchmen could wrap a blanket around Natural.

The goodwill that suddenly rushed through his body awakened his spirits, made him shiver and also made him pull his legs up again. But this time, staying seated wasn’t an option. They grabbed him by both arms, pulled him to his feet and supported him enough so that his weight didn’t overload his numb legs.

“We have made sure that you will get home, young Master Harmonia.” The old man nodded to him without further ado before he took the lead, and Natural followed with unsteady steps and the help of the other two.

His body trembled with every movement forward. Simultaneously, his eyes darted over Zinzolin’s thick coat. A few Poké Balls hung from the wide belt that wrapped around his entire body. If Natural stumbled forward and got his hands on one of them, there might be hope. Getting a Pokémon on his side and convincing it to at least help out until he was safe himself seemed like a possibility he could live up to. If successful, he would run back to the Rising Volt Tacklers as quickly as possible. They would help him. For sure. And then he would find the courage to face this fight head-on.

The outside world greeted him shortly afterwards with icy morning air. The sun was farther away from the mountains where he had seen it before, half hidden behind the horizon. Shrouded in a dull blue, which was already brightening in some places, the sky looked down at him. It wouldn’t be long before the first people would probably go about their work. Somewhere in between, Friede, as a waiter, was probably thinking about what Natural had said.

Everything around him was covered with fresh dew. Water lay half-frozen in small lakes. The flower beds a few metres away looked deserted, and the shed where he had been housed – not a warehouse as he had assumed – seemed to be the only building within reach. Only the illuminated passageway, like the one he knew between Castelia and Join Avenue, revealed to him with a small sign they were somewhere on Route 117.

But instead of pushing him towards the artificial light, they shoved him in the other direction.

“There is a wonderful competition hall in Verdanturf Town, and our helicopter has landed on its roof. It will take us home as quickly as possible.”

Verdanturf Town. A place he didn’t know. There was no guarantee that he could escape from there. Presumably, people wouldn’t even turn around to look at him because he resembled a victim who was now being brought to safety, wrapped only in a blanket. If he called for help, he would surely be punished. In addition, Zinzolin knew, just like his father, that words could defuse any situation. In the worst case, no one would believe him, and Zinzolin would be the hero of a kidnapping that suddenly seemed almost like a rescue.

If he wanted to escape this situation, if he wanted to live, he had to act. Now.

It took a deep breath to let the decision sink in. A moment in which he gathered himself and dared to portray the same determination he had shown when he was well on his way to doing exactly what Ghetsis wanted him to do.

Then, with a jerk, he tore himself away from the two men at his side. The blanket around his body was hardly of concern anymore as it threatened to slip off his shoulders. His legs buckled, but he wasn’t willing to give in completely. His body stumbled forward, faster than expected, and when he bumped into Zinzolin’s back, his fingers grabbed the Poké Ball behind which he sensed Zekrom’s presence.

Together with the sage, he staggered a little further before one of the other two grabbed him. Fingers dug painfully through the blanket into his upper arm. But instead of giving up, Natural let himself be pulled back into an upright position before smashing his clenched fist, the ball still firmly in his grasp, straight into the other man’s face. Resistance pressed against his knuckles, only yielding when the stranger landed on his backside.

“Stop him!” Zinzolin’s voice thundered in the background. It spurred the members of Plasma on but kept them at a distance as they reached for their own Poké Balls, and Natural, surrounded by enemies, saw no way out.

His hand throbbed from the blow, trembling as he looked at the ball. Zekrom would save him from this situation. But when he glanced at the opposing Pokémon, creatures that threatened to rush into a battle that would only bring them suffering, he lowered his arm. Was there no other way to escape? Something that wouldn’t kill these creatures?

Zekrom would destroy them; he was sure of that. No one but Reshiram had the power to face this legendary dragon. It would take more than a Drapion and a Garbodor, led by Zinzolin’s Cryogonal. More than three trainers, none of whom really knew how to fight because Plasma had always preyed on weaker people.

Gritting his teeth, uncertainty bubbled inside Natural. Still, he raised his arm, ready to send Zekrom into the conflict, clear an escape route and disappear. However, the ball didn’t release from his fingers. Unable to loosen his grip, he held the ball above his head while a menacing tinkling at his side drew all his attention to Cryogonal. Brightness settled like dew around the Pokémon’s snowflake body, forming a frosty ball a few metres in front of him.

It would beat him to it, use an ice beam and put his body into shock. A very simple sequence of events that he could already see in his mind’s eye.

In the next second, a beam of biting cold rushed towards Natural. His legs motionless, he looked at it. His arm lowered as if in slow motion. Presumably, this attack would kill him, devour him – consume him like the flames that appeared out of nowhere.

Natural blinked in bewilderment before the information registered. Cryogonal’s ice beam tangled with fire, remaining a few steps away from Natural and simultaneously pressing thick clouds of fog into the surroundings.

“Natural!”

Somewhere in between, someone shouted his name, and when he looked to the side, up towards the sky, he saw Friede – his personal hero.

Chapter 12: Decision

》Stop. Don't think about it any more. Ignore it.
Forget. Repress it. Shake it off. Accept.
My child, no matter what you do, you must deal with your
memories in order to master them.
This is your beginning.《

With a leap from Charizard’s back, Friede gave his partner freedom of movement. The Pokémon’s roar rippled through Natural’s body, visibly through the members of Plasma as well, and when it threw another flamethrower at Cryogonal, the Pokémon instantly responded with a blast of ice.

Once again, fire crashed against icy cold, summoning mist and seeming to collapse as Charizard channelled more energy into its attack. In an instant, its flames burst through the opponent’s attack, devouring the ice and forcing Cryogonal to retreat. It was only a split second, a single moment, in which the Pokémon fled from the heat and Friede’s partner targeted Garbodor.

The panicked exclamations of the Plasma members drove Natural’s attention to the two men, whose commands collided. Garbodor inflated its misshapen body to throw acid spray in Charizard’s direction, while Drapion gathered all its might for a pin missile. Attacks fused together as the acid swallowed the needles, missing Charizard in the next beat of its wings. With a single flap, it darted forward, narrowly dodging before turning sideways. A graceful turn swept Drapion off its feet with a single tail swipe before the Fire-type Pokémon smashed a dragon claw down on Garbodor.

Natural immediately averted his gaze. The Pokémon’s scream echoed in his ears nonetheless, eating through his mind so he squinted; and as he raised his hands to block it all out, the warmth of another enveloped him. He immediately opened his eyes again. Friede’s scent nestled against his senses, and the chest of the man who made his heart leap flutteringly even in that breath offered him shelter. Sanctuary that he would have loved to push away in order to appear a little stronger.

“Charizard, flamethrower!” Friede’s voice thundered in his ears but at the same time brought a sense of security that lulled Natural to the core. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Zinzolin, his lips moving and the silent exclamation that he didn’t hear. In between, Cryogonal was desperate to protect itself with reflect, only to scream for help immediately afterwards, enveloped in flames.

“W-We should get out of here!”

“We can’t fight that, boss!”

In the background, he heard restless scratching, then trampling, as they fled as quickly as possible.

“I don’t think anyone can beat them at running away.” Friede’s embrace loosened. For a second, his amused grin left no doubt, no tension, not a single negative emotion in Natural. Instead, he broke away from the adventurer before his attention slid to Zinzolin.

With a Poké Ball in hand, there was no sign of Cryogonal. At least he didn’t leave his friend to die. And the fact he didn’t stand a chance against Friede also raised the suspicion that he would retreat without issue. Just like that. Because he was a smart man who rarely played games when he preferred to go into battle with a plan.

“I guess I have no choice but to finish this project differently than expected.” Zinzolin’s rough voice quivered, almost disappointed. Then he slipped a hand into the pocket of his oversized coat.

Natural’s breath burnt on his lips as he blinked. Ever so slowly. As if the world stood still while Friede grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him behind his body with a sharp push. His fingers buried in the barely warming blanket, he stumbled over his feet – accompanied by a bang that triggered a sharp beep in his ears. Simultaneously, it seemed impossible to take his eyes off his rescuer; off the shock that ran through him or the red colour that suddenly spread across the right side of his jacket.

Unable to stay on his feet, Natural crashed sideways to the ground. Sharp pinpricks spread across the palms of his hands, damp coldness clung to his skin, and the pain reaching into his wrist tore at his senses. Still, he kept his eyes on Friede, watching as he lunged forward and overpowered Zinzolin. The sage’s fright prevented him from using the firearm in his hands a second time.

Friede grabbed the old man long before he caught his footing. Wrapping his fingers tightly around the sage’s joint, he skilfully twisted his arm behind his back until he let go of the pistol. Then he released him, causing Zinzolin to stumble forwards, only to be grabbed by the shoulder. Jerked back, the sage whirled around, unable to avoid Friede’s hook to the chin.

Natural thought he heard the old man’s teeth clash violently. A sort of clatter that stifled his pained gasp and sent him motionless to the ground.

“We should get out of here.” The beads of sweat on Friede’s forehead didn’t go unnoticed either. The blood had already soaked his clothes down to the waistband. Something the adventurer also noticed when he let out a soundless laugh and pressed a hand to the injury. “And we should probably hurry.”

Wordlessly, Natural pulled to his feet. His tongue stuck dry to the roof of his mouth. What did you say in a situation like this? A simple “thank you” seemed too little, too meaningless. On the other, there was nothing he could have said to Friede.

Before he could find the right words, the adventurer jumped onto Charizard and then gestured to Natural once again to join him. As if in a trance, he followed the invitation, found a place in front of his saviour and took on the responsibility of pressing against Friede’s injury with all his might and part of his blanket to stop the bleeding.

Silence followed, interrupted only by the swishing wings of Charizard in the air. The morning darkness lifted with each successive breath, and although Natural felt no tightness in his chest, no unease, no guilt for what had happened to Friede, there was still an unpleasant tingling inside him. A mixture of gratitude and attraction – the desire to stay in this position forever, because he would probably never get that close to this man again. By the time they landed and Mollie patched him up, there would be no more reason to taste this closeness; to explore this feeling that spread through him and almost tasted like home.

“I didn’t think getting shot would hurt so much afterwards.” Out of nowhere, Friede hung his head, a heavy sigh on his lips. The tension in his body seemed to have evaporated, and with it, presumably, the agitation that had blocked out everything else for the moment. “But if that’s the price I have to pay to keep you from running away, then I’ll gladly pay it.”

As if he had been shaken, Natural clung tighter to the blanket and thus also to the adventurer’s injury, causing him to let out a painful gasp. “What ... are you trying to say?”

Instead of answering, Friede raised his gaze. The gleam in his eyes seemed to bore into Natural’s mind, spreading out and temporarily clouding any further thoughts until he took a deep breath and swallowed dryly. “Do you feel ... the same?”

“I don’t know,” Friede replied this time, the smirk on his lips wan but honest. “But I like you, I know that. Whether that’s enough...” he shrugged, “I’ll leave that up to you. We can find out if you want to.”

It was a chance. A possibility that would at least give him an answer – not only in terms of Friede but also for himself. If it meant he could explore his own affections while everything else slowly fell away from him, then it was worth a try.

So Natural replied with a sound of approval, which Friede accepted with a gentle gasp. An agreement that faded as the Brave Asagi came into view and Mollie’s rescuing hands drew closer.

As soon as they landed, Natural helped his saviour off Charizard’s back. The Pokémon immediately disappeared into the ball before Friede fully accepted his help, and Natural dragged him with careful steps into Mollie’s small doctor’s room. Up to the door, the adventurer could do little more than groan softly. It was only when they stepped into the well-lit room and Mollie jumped up as if shocked by a Joltik that everything seemed to change for the better.

In no time, she moved Friede to a chair to look at the injury. Simultaneously, she combined every other movement with reprimanding words that exuded an air of concern that was probably part of the Rising Volt Tacklers. Here, they cared about the people in the immediate vicinity.

“How could this even happen?” Instead of listening to Friede’s excuses, Mollie turned to Natural.

His hands wrapped tightly around Zekrom’s ball, he grimaced. “One sage from Plasma had a gun.”

“He probably wanted to get rid of Natural for good,” added Friede.

Mollie’s gaze travelled back and forth between them before she shook her head and quickly fished the bullet out of her leader’s shoulder.

“You’re lucky he hit the wrong side ... and that you got away without hurting more than tissue.” Angry, she pressed some woollen fluff onto the wound to elicit an apologetic hiss from Friede. “You are irresponsible! Although I’m glad you both made it back.”

Her words didn’t allow for a joke, or a casual comment from Friede, who simply gave her a smile while Natural stared at the floor and wrapped the blanket a little tighter around himself. Maybe he should leave, should put some clothes on and allow a little distance. Something that would make this situation a little less awkward and strangely loving at the same time.

He barely noticed as he shifted one foot backwards. His bare soles throbbed numbly. Then he turned his attention to the scene with Mollie and Friede once more before he managed a lightning-fast “clothes” and then rushed out of the room.

By now, his heart was beating up to his neck, and the nausea in his stomach didn’t allow him to believe that there was anything positive about this feeling. Instead, the sickening thought that Plasma wouldn’t let him go solidified in his mind. Zinzolin’s defeat would only serve as a reason to become more radical. Who knew what his father would set in motion next? Maybe someone would die again.

Hastily, he shook his mop of hair before stumbling into his room – straight into Zoroark’s fluffy arms, which hugged him tightly to his furry chest.

“You’re back!” His best friend’s snort nestled softly against Natural’s ears. “I thought they got you while I was careless. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying more attention.” In one movement, the Pokémon pushed him away to look at him and twitch the ears. “It’s my job to be there for you. We promised each other that, remember? We swore to be there for one another because we’re stronger together than alone, and I have–“

Half in a trance, Natural put both hands around Zoroark’s muzzle to silence him. “I’m fine.” His thumbs stroked over the top. “This wasn’t your fault. I’m ... I’m sorry I made you ... have to cut back.”

Closing his eyes, the Pokémon tilted his head further down so that he could almost lay it against Natural’s chest. His snout slipped from the grip. The only place Natural’s hands suddenly seemed right was on his best friend’s shoulders.

Zoroark was already sacrificing enough. He played less, tried to play fewer pranks, and sought not to create problems that would only produce bad things. He did his best to be a good friend, and Natural had no choice but to thank him again and again. Only for the fact someone had sacrificed so much for him without asking for anything in return.

When they parted, Zoroark found a seat in a corner of the room where a fluffy pillow had been placed for him. Presumably a gift from Murdock or Ludlow. Natural used the time to get dressed – a few items of clothing that Friede had gradually smuggled into his wardrobe so that he could change from time to time. These included a black jumper that was a little too big and loose-fitting trousers that were neither too baggy nor too tight. A bit like his own clothes, which Mollie and Orla washed several times a week. He placed Zekrom’s Poké Ball on the table in the room.

He then sat down on the edge of the bed. Part of him longed for sleep, for something to give him rest after he had been locked up to make him realise how little value he had in the eyes of Plasma. However, his skin was tingling, and the nausea still hadn’t gone away.

It only eased a little when the door to his room opened again and Friede entered, one hand raised in greeting and a tired smile on his lips. The wound treatment had gone faster than expected. Natural had at least wanted to take one last look at the process.

“You didn’t come back.” Friede carefully closed the door behind him.

“I ... wanted to, but you’re ... finished already.”

“Many thoughts to battle?” He stepped closer.

“Some,” Natural confessed.

“Do you want to tell me about them?” As if in slow motion, he also sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to move his injured shoulder any more than necessary.

“It’s nothing.” A quick sideways glance from Natural brought Friede’s expression into focus for a moment. His brows furrowed slightly, a narrow crease appearing between them. One full of worry and questions and an insistent desire to get at least a brief insight into his mind.

And perhaps it was important that they talked about it – about a small part of everything that was relentlessly shifting up and down inside him. So Natural turned his gaze to his own hands, which he folded carefully in his lap.

“They overpowered me when they found me to take me back to Unova,” he then began. “They wanted me to finish the task I ... started ... there.”

“What task was that?”

How do you explain to someone that you were raised to rule? When Natural thought back, there were images of his ideals. The desire to help the Pokémon and free them from the miserable circumstances in which they lived. In his blindness, he had fallen for something he would never have supported otherwise. Probably.

“My father ... he wanted me to rule over Unova,” Natural began, and with every word he spoke, his pauses became shorter and his sentences faster. “He taught me all my life that the Pokémon live in terrible conditions and that it’s my job to become a hero to free those who can’t help themselves. All my life I have pitied the Pokémon and accused humans of some deeds they never committed. All I knew was that my father’s Pokémon were terribly unhappy. Hydreigon ... hated humans, and Cofagrigus was just an empty shell most of the time as far as its thoughts were concerned. Father always said that others had done this to them and that he was trying to make a better world for them now. I was never allowed to talk to them because they were ‘dangerous’, and I ... trusted him enough to believe it was okay to let him do it.”

Natural gasped for a moment before continuing. “Every day I prepared for a future, thinking all the hard days Ghetsis put me through were for my own good. Then I summoned the legendary dragon Zekrom and thought that now it was really up to me to do something good. To create something new. Something ... nice...”

“But you realised Ghetsis was just taking advantage of you,” Friede concluded.

It would have been so much easier if that had been the case. So Natural shook his head. “I was blind. It was Domino who recognised his truth and intervened. For personal reasons and also because she wanted to protect me. She and ... somehow Amethio too did everything they could to stop me and make me realise I didn’t have to do what was asked of me. That was when I started to doubt whether this path was really the right one. I saw so many things in my short time outside the castle and noticed so many inconsistencies... And then, in the end, my father only confirmed that I had no value in his eyes. He ... never thought for a second that I meant anything to him.”

“That doesn’t seem to have changed...”

“No.” Natural sighed. “He still wants to achieve his goals, and I am a ... means to an end. My existence has no other value to him. That’s why he wanted to get me back. And to remind me of that, they put me in a glass box.”

There was no need to mention that his clothes had been taken away. Not when all he had been wearing when he was rescued was a blanket. And luckily for him, Friede asked no more questions. He simply nodded, as if he were slowly getting a picture of the world he lived in.

Talking about it, however, didn’t improve any of this. The circumstances didn’t suddenly clear up, and the fears didn’t simply disappear. Everything seemed to stay the same. The only thing that remained was the certainty that another person now knew a bit more about him than anyone else.

“You don’t mind if I stay, do you?” Instead of going any further into the subject, Friede distracted from the gloomy thoughts. He seemed to sense that the circumstances didn’t invite further discussion of something that would only leave wounds and scars.

Natural shook his head before gesturing to Friede that he was free to use the bed. He had slept on the floor often enough himself. He didn’t mind getting up from the edge of the bed and wandering around the room for a breath to find a reasonably comfortable corner.

But before he could leave, Friede grabbed him by the wrist. Wordlessly, he slipped off his boots before stretching out on the duvet and gesturing for Natural to join him.

Hesitant resistance spread through Natural, bringing palpitations to the fore, beating in complete confusion, unsteady, restless and yet full of relief. All too slowly, he sank back onto the bed.

With gentle movements, Friede pulled him close and pressed his chest against Natural’s back – giving him warmth and affection, which settled intensely on him when a hand was placed over his upper body. Being so close to each other seemed strange. Different. Unusual compared to what Natural knew. Yet it made him feel safe. Knowing that Friede was behind him, burying his head in Natural’s neck, made it impossible to keep his eyes open.

The blackness behind his eyelids harboured no danger. It seemed velvety soft, perfect for settling down and drifting off with his thoughts. Into green forests and wide fields. Far away from the lab, from Colress, from responsibility and the hopes of others.

And also from Cofagrigus’ gaze.

Right back to that time, a year before Ghetsis had let him set foot in the villages and cities of Unova for the first time.

 

The resounding slap burnt like fire on his skin as he staggered back a few steps but didn’t fall. Over the years, he had found a kind of strength in his legs that prevented him from being knocked to the ground by Ghetsis. Still, the pain never lessened.

Placing a hand on his cheek, Natural looked towards his father, who thundered his walking stick onto the tiled floor. The slurred words from his mouth hung unsteadily between them until Natural thought they were addressed to him personally.

“You really desire this, my son?” The sudden soft sound of his voice bathed Ghetsis in the light of a man who cared. Immediately after, he stepped closer, only to place a hand carefully over Naturals. “I’m sorry, believe me. Far be it from me to harm you, Harmonia. You are a tender young man, with your heart in the right place. That’s why I’m so concerned about your well-being.”

Natural’s hand slowly slipped from the throbbing spot so that Ghetsis could caress it with a gentle touch. It was one of those days when he had asked to be allowed to get to know this region. Not least to see the Pokémon that were suffering so terribly. As king, it was important to know his people. At least that was what he had once read in a book that Anthea had given him.

But every time he spoke to his father about it, he was met with a punch in the face, or the walking stick landed on his shoulder until it cracked. Ghetsis usually sent him away afterwards. So that he could think about his “decision”, and never once had Natural understood why.

But this day was different. His father gave him the understanding that had previously been non-existent.

“My son, I have not sent you away all these years to think about my actions because I take pleasure in bringing you closer to the frustrations of this world. There is a longing in your heart to find out something that you only know from my stories. I understand your thirst for knowledge, but I don’t want to let you go until you are prepared. Until my beatings stop hurting, I can’t in good conscience say that you can survive this world out there. After all, I’ve protected you all these years.”

The throbbing cheek was all but forgotten. Instead, Natural nodded. Ghetsis was trying hard to toughen him up. Against the violence that humans did to each other out there, and against the cruelty they also inflicted on the Pokémon. He simply didn’t want anything to happen to Natural. That was the love of a father.

“You remember what I said about how humans work out there?” Slowly, Ghetsis’ hand loosened from Natural’s. “Tell me about the things you remember so I can be sure no one puts ideas in your head that are nothing more than illusions and lies.”

Natural was good at that. Everything his father had ever taught him was firmly anchored in his head. The knowledge hadn’t just passed him by, which was why he stood up a little straighter to convey to Ghetsis that he found pride in what he had learnt through his father.

“The people out there are ... cruel. To our friends and to themselves. They throw rubbish at the weaker ones. They don’t care about equality or that everyone ... can live well together. Instead, everyone is only concerned with who has the most and whether they can outdo their neighbour. Many starve and live on the streets, even though they once served society, only ... to end up being cast out by said society ... because they are no longer of any use. Others are ridiculed and tormented in their positions, but they can’t run away because they will be deprived of everything they need to survive. People among themselves are horrible creatures who have long since lost their love for their neighbour. It’s normal to meet people who don’t care about you. Very few reach out to you. And just as they treat each other, they treat their Pokémon in the same way. The difference, however, is that Pokémon are vulnerable creatures full of love that shouldn’t be ... treated like that.”

It wasn’t exactly the same words, and he probably wasn’t using the same tone of voice that his father always used when he gave his speech, but Natural was sure he’d got the main points across. All the times he had been reprimanded had taught him well.

Ghetsis smiled with satisfaction. “I see you’ve internalised my words.” His walking stick thudded on the tiles. He hadn’t been carrying it so often lately. “And yet I demand that you realise the world out there is a much crueller place. People will try to win you over to their side by talking you into fancy things. Empty promises you must never fall for, my son.”

Straightening his shoulders, Natural avoided making a sound of agreement or anything else. Instead, he tried to convince his father with just a firm look. In addition, there was this certainty that Ghetsis would help him. Whenever the seductive words of others would come his way, his father would be there to remind him that, as a hero, he couldn’t fall for lies. Outside the protective four walls of the castle, he was sure of his paternal support.

Because he could rely on his father.

 

Natural’s whole body tightened as he sat upright in bed with a jerk and wrapped his arms tightly around his torso. Every breath rushed across his lips, and his clothes clung to his body.

He inhaled and exhaled deeply a few times before catching himself and stroking his face with both hands to stop the throbbing behind his forehead. Then he glanced sideways at Friede, who was peacefully lingering in his dreams, presumably following his Charizard on an exciting journey. His relaxed expression pushed what had happened with Zinzolin into a strangely faded memory that perhaps had never really happened.

Gently, Natural shook off the thought before slipping out of bed and quietly disappearing from the room. He didn’t see anyone until he reached the bathroom, although the light was still on in the kitchen, and Mollie’s room showed a faint glimmer of brightness under the door on the way.

The nearest toilet shrouded him in darkness for a second before he switched on the light and locked the door behind him. Then he shuffled to the mirror to look at his own face – the face that looked far too pale and whose lips were devoid of colour.

“Ghetsis would be here for you now.”

A thought that settled so suddenly in Natural’s senses that he stumbled a few steps away from the mirror and turned around. Thinking about this man, about everything that had happened, was like the nightmare he had just escaped from. A hint of ridiculousness clung to the memory. He had wanted to be a hero who wasn’t tempted by lies, only to grow up in one.

With a snort, he pressed his lips together and closed his eyelids briefly before pulling his clothes off with trembling fingers. A hot shower would drive Ghetsis away. And if not, then an ice-cold one would help.

The sound of the water hurt his ears for a moment before Natural stood under the jet and let the far too hot water splash onto his skin. The burning sensation spread and only subsided when his skin looked tomato red. That way he could be sure of washing it all off. The encounter with Zinzolin, the touch of the Plasma members, the nightmare. It all went down the drain.

Somewhere in between, he braced himself against the cold tiles of the wall. They reminded him that there was still life under his skin. He could feel, perceive. No matter how much the memories drained him, he wasn’t drained of life yet. There was still someone inside him who was fighting, even if he didn’t know if it was really him or just an old part of him that would never stop believing. It had probably also been the part that had made him realise he didn’t want to die and that change came first.

“And yet you do nothing but run away.”

Of course he ran away. Still did. Ceaselessly. Unable to stop because the flight reflex was tensing every muscle in his body to the breaking point. But that had to be all right. Friede would probably pat him on the back here and now and remind him it was one step at a time. Taking it slowly.

But where should he start? There were so many construction sites stretching from head to toe that the amount remained almost overwhelming.

“Do you hate Ghetsis?”

The voice in the back of his head grasped a simple question. The images of the nightmare still flickered in faint colour in his mind, and whenever he blinked, he thought he perceived one of his father’s misdeeds.

Meanwhile, the water burnt into his body. Fog settled around his frame, blending in with the opaque cotton wool in his head. His shoulders never stopped shaking. The green hair clutched his neck, his upper body, wet and heavy, as if it wanted to hold him in this place – here, in the present. But the past dug its claws deeper, unwilling to let him go.

“You’re nothing,” his father’s voice hissed in the background, making Natural flinch.

His hands clenched into fists. He wanted to be better, wanted to surpass himself. Somehow. But Ghetsis’ voice, that sharp, mocking tone, seeped into his senses like poison.

“Tell me. Do you hate Ghetsis? Your father? The man who made you what you are?”

Natural’s breath hitched as he leaned against the shower wall, trying to perceive the cold tiles as a saving shore. The voices in his mind left a drawn-out echo, while the answer was quietly on his lips.

“I don’t hate him.” He really didn’t. There wasn’t a single feeling inside him that conveyed loathing whenever he thought of his father.

The truth was different. It lay deeper, well buried beneath all the other things he had always distracted himself with. It was an impenetrable mess of anxiety and pain.

“I fear him.” Certainty overwhelmed him without being asked.

“You’re afraid of him?” the voice in the background laughed. “You’re completely terrified! And you should be. He’s still in your head, isn’t he? He controls you, even from a distance. But you know what? There’s a very simple way out. Something that can make you forget. Wouldn’t that be nice? To let go of everything, like you had planned before?”

Narrowing his eyes, Natural swallowed. The last time he had thought about ending everything, lost in thought, all alone, there had been Friede. The man who was still lying in his bed, recovering from the gunshot wound. The person to whom he had confessed his affection and who was now closer to him than any other human being in the world.

“You’re weak. Ridiculous. Believe me, you’ll never be free.”

Still, the voice – his own thoughts – in the background was right. It turned his stomach, choked his air and forced the bile up into his throat. Every breath hitched, panicked gasps caught in his throat. Before he knew it, every fibre in his body was tense. He bent over, felt the acid on his tongue and vomited.

“You disgust me.” Ghetsis’ voice commented on the incident, going even further. “You desire a man? How unnatural can you get? You are despicable. A problem, something that should be put down.”

The bile burnt like fire in his throat. The vomit combined with the water and disappeared down the drain in a spiral, leaving only him and the mess inside him behind.

This time, Natural leaned his shoulder against the wall tiles. With one hand, he turned the water cold. His legs trembled, threatening to give way. Still, they held him for half an eternity, until the wetness ran cooling over his skin. Gradually, his breathing recovered and became more even, easier, and the tightness in his chest eased.

As if in slow motion, he switched off the shower. His body swayed as he stepped out dripping, grabbed a bath towel and wrapped it tightly around him as if it could protect him from all the bad thoughts. Natural couldn’t walk a straight line to the sink. All he could do was cling to the ceramic edge and look at his steamed-up reflection in the mirror – pale, his eyes sunken, everything about him fragile.

He averted his gaze in a flash. There was no reason to look at himself. Not after fighting a battle. Of course, he looked terrible. Of course, he wasn’t the shining image Domino had once seen in him. He probably never had been, and probably even Friede only knew this one side of him. But that was all right. It was normal.

And it wouldn’t win.

But the fresh clothes on his body brought no protection, and the way back to his room remained a blur. Shadows stretched through the darkness, looking like fake illusions that weren’t supposed to exist in this darkness. But they were there, and they giggled whenever Natural listened closely.

His bare feet tapped softly on the wooden floor as ice-cold air gripped his body. He felt his hands trembling as he opened the door to his room and slipped inside. Friede was still asleep. Although his shoulder probably ached, he made no sound – no quivering breaths, no sleepy moans when he pulled the covers up a little higher. Natural stepped closer and tried to make out this wondrous man better in the falling moonlight. His white hair gleamed on the pillow.

For longer than necessary, he just stood there and looked at this adventurer – this guy who seemed like the only good thing after Domino had sent him to freedom. Just being allowed to look at him seemed special. Unique. Terribly valuable.

Clenching his hands into fists, Natural took a deep breath. Then he carefully slid into bed at Friede’s side, careful not to wake him. However, the mattress gave way under his weight, and Friede uttered an unintelligible whisper, which Natural listened to with bated breath. Only when nothing else happened did he dare to exhale audibly. Immediately afterwards, as if it were instinct, Friede’s arm chased in Natural’s direction, and his next gasp caught in his throat as a sharp sound. In less than a heartbeat, the adventurer pulled him close.

Frozen in place, Natural didn’t dare to move a muscle. Was it all right to relax in someone else’s arms? In the embrace of a man who made his heart beat a little faster?

I’m safe here, it flashed through his head. Right now, he was out of harm’s way.

So he relaxed, gave in to Friede’s touch and savoured the warmth that enveloped his body. Somewhere in between, Natural turned so that his back found support against the other’s chest while he could put his arm around him – like a shield against the outside world. Friede’s weight harboured comfort. Fears faded, giving way to fragile peace. For the first time in far too long, Natural felt silence inside him. Tranquillity as he knew it from the forests of Unova.

But it didn’t last long.

“You think this will change anything?” The voice of Ghetsis snorted into his senses. “You’re still just a thing. He won’t pay any more attention to you once he understands how hopelessly lost you are.”

Natural’s stomach twisted. Burying his face in the pillow, he tried to block out the noise. Friede wouldn’t just push him away. He already knew about the condition Natural was dragging around. Adding to that, he wanted to do better. Instead of running away, he wanted to show strength. He was tired of the days ending and nothing ever getting better.

“You’re so sure of yourself.” Scorn rang in his ears. “But you don’t think about the possibility that he probably just feels sorry for you.”

His hands clawed at the sheets. Friede wasn’t one of those people who agreed to a romance because he felt sorry for someone. Or was he? Wasn’t Friede actually far too nice to refuse anything? Didn’t he always endeavour to make things happen, no matter what the cost?

What if his father was right?

The idea clenched his throat. Every breath burnt like fire in his lungs, and an unusual emptiness spread inside him. If all this was true, why was he hoping for a change? Why was he trying to escape this spiral? What should he cling to if not a bit of love that passed like a drop on a hot stone?

Friede moved behind him, a soft sigh on his lips as his arm tightened around him. Then he heard the rough voice of the other in his ears. “Natural?”

“Sorry.” Everything inside him stiffened. “I ... didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Is everything all right?” Friede’s tone flattered him, soothing his senses.

Still, Natural hesitated to answer. He wanted to agree, wanted to forget this moment, but the words wouldn’t leave his tongue. Instead, he shook his mop of hair with effort before turning to Friede. Golden, half-opened eyes scrutinised him before a soft smile crept onto Friede’s lips. It only lasted a moment, however, before he drew his brows together and brushed a green strand of Natural’s still damp hair behind his ear with one hand. “What is it?”

A heavy swallow settled in Natural’s throat. He wanted to distance himself from Friede and from the answers he could have given him. This man in front of him deserved better. Something less damaged. But the adventurer’s touch held him firmly in place.

“I ... don’t know...” he finally admitted. “I can hear him. My father. His voice ... it’s always there, telling me I’m not enough. That I didn’t understand a thing that happened, and so I don’t know how to ... forget it...”

When had he even started to question his father? Part of him believed that the encounter with Domino had provided the trigger. The rest of him remembered the doubtful nights he had spent lying awake wondering if the world was really as cruel as he had been told. His sisters had always been silent, and the members of Plasma had been far too chirpy to fit into Ghetsis’ tales.

“You’re enough,” Friede interjected between his thoughts. “Maybe not for your father. Maybe not for other people’s expectations either. But you’re enough for you, and that’s the most important thing.” He closed his eyes. “I once thought that nothing was enough. That this world wasn’t sufficient, or the Pokémon, or what I was exploring. Until I realised it was all down to me. I wasn’t looking properly and simply didn’t realise what I was missing out on. I don’t think it’s any different with your father. He feels you’re not enough because he’s unhappy with himself and his views.”

Natural thought he was going to choke. Could it really be that simple? Was all this really just the image of another person that had nothing to do with him at all? He wanted to believe Friede, wanted to cling to his words, but they seemed to slip through his fingers. Was he enough for himself?

“What if he’s right?” he whispered barely audibly, unable to look at his partner. His gaze fixed forlornly on Friede’s chest. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be or what I represent for myself. What if it’s always going to be like this?”

Silence seemed to hold the upper hand between them for a moment. Then, suddenly, Natural felt a gentle pressure on the top of his head. Friede had moved closer to lay his head on him. “Then we’ll find a solution together. Someone helped me back then too. You don’t have to figure all this out on your own.”

There was nothing Natural could have said. This conversation, this barely perceptible discussion, was won by Friede. He easily threw his worries overboard, as if he were capable of solving any problem, and he didn’t know whether he should thank him for it or whether doubt was safer than trust.

“I’m here,” Friede whispered regardless. “And I won’t just disappear, I promise.”

Half in a trance, Natural brought himself to nod. In those breaths, he wanted to believe – anyone, if not himself. Maybe it would be easier that way. So he looked up, met Friede’s penetrating gaze and attempted a thin smile.

It seemed as if there was nothing left between them. No more words that rained down on him like unmanageable problems. There was only this beautiful man with white hair. And himself. Just the two of them. No illusion. No more doubts. Not even when Natural moved closer to feel Friede’s breath on his lips. It seemed perfectly normal, perfectly ordinary. Pleasant. Tempting.

And before he knew it, Friede’s lips met his. Out of nowhere, he breathed a careful kiss on Natural’s lips – gently, as if he wasn’t even there – causing Natural’s eyes to widen. Soft warmth fluttered through his insides, loosening the tightness of his throat and freeing him for a breath from the clutches of his own thoughts. All he could do was return the touch. The world faded into the background; every contact became more intense, clearer, and more real, and the certainty that he was no longer alone swept the last voice from the back of his head.

Simultaneously, he felt the adventurer’s hands on him. He felt them slide over his shoulders, over his waist, down to his hips. Skilfully and without pressure, without force. There was only shallow affection that didn’t threaten to hurt him.

If that wasn’t at least a bit of love, what was it supposed to be?

He shooed the question away. It didn’t matter what it was supposed to be. It was much more important that it made him feel good – that he felt sure that he was loved in those seconds.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Pokémon: The Lost Universe