Vol. I, Part 2: Chapter 17

  The pale morning light came rolling over the hills of southeastern Unova, signaling the end of the night. Sunlight started to creep slowly into the girls’ dorm, casting shadows from the blinds onto an empty bed. Rosa was already awake, having risen long before the sun crept over the horizon. She didn’t care to do her morning ritual of washing her face or tying her hair to perfection. She and Hilda were out the door and on the road.

  Most of their drives together involved loud music, laughter, and the kind of gossip that could only be shared between life long friends. This drive, however, was quiet. Only the small reverberations through the speakers of faint, low-fidelity music replaced the ambient sounds of the road. They drove in Hilda’s personal car, a small, reliable sedan gifted to her by her parents on her sixteenth birthday. Hilbert got a blue jacket for his birthday.

  “You know, you’re lucky I’m coming with you,” Hilda muttered, her morning voice still lingering from the early wake-up.

  “Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Rosa asked, staring out the window.

  “How else would you have gotten to Striaton?” Hilda eyed Rosa with a raised eyebrow.

  Rosa scoffed. “I’m going to get my license,” she replied vehemently.

  “You’re almost seventeen and still license-less. I haven’t had mine for a year yet and I’m already chauffeuring you around.”

  Rosa was glad Hilda was starting to get back to her normal self. Her sarcastic comments gave levity to an otherwise melancholic drive.

  “Well, with my parents not around to keep me busy, maybe I’ll actually have time to. Besides, Matt didn’t get his until he was like twenty or something.”

  “Golden boy Matt. Not driving until twenty,” Hilda mocked.

  Despite her parents’ strict discipline over her, Rosa getting a driver’s license was never something they actually cared about. Probably because it would give her too much freedom, at least that’s what she suspected, anyway. A car meant escape, and escape was not part of the curriculum.

  “Will your mom be able to see Deerling immediately?” Hilda asked, as the traffic began to thicken near the city limits.

  “I called her yesterday, she said she’s clearing out her morning to facilitate the surgery.”

  “Thank god for Aunt Laura,” Hilda said, tapping her steering wheel in rhythm with the faint music. “Are you nervous about seeing her after running away from home?”

  Rosa stiffened slightly, “Hilda, I told you, I’m not a runaway,” she reiterated. “And my mom is not nearly as overbearing as my dad.”

  “She still wants you in medicine as much as Uncle Dennis does,” Hilda said matter-of-factly. “Remember when she had you working overtime during the forest fires?”

  “I volunteered for that,” Rosa corrected, though the memory was hazy with exhaustion.

  “But you still complained about it.”

  Rosa remembered the long hours spent caring for Pokémon with smoke-filled lungs, carefully treating them. She recalled providing purified air and pumping ash from their small bodies, all while under the watchful, critical eye of Head Nurse Laura Whitley.

  “She’s just…passionate about her job,” Rosa said, though it sounded like a rehearsed line.

  “Yeah. I know,”

  Hilda shifted in her seat. “I’m just worried about Deerling. You think she’s going to be okay?” Hilda asked in a more serious tone, her grip on the wheel tightening.

  “Yeah, yeah of course,” Rosa reassured her.

  “I know Aunt Laura is great and all, but what if Deerling freaks out again?”

  “I’m sure she has dealt with plenty of scared Pokémon before. And besides, they’ll have to sedate Deerling for the surgery, anyway.”

  “I guess,” Hilda sighed, the tension not quite leaving her shoulders. “You and your reason. Bleh,” she added playfully with her tongue out.

  “Whatever you say,” Rosa smiled, turning her attention back to the road as the cityscape of Striaton came into view.

  The buildings in Striaton were taller, sleeker, and surrounded by the manicured greenery the city was famous for. They pulled into the parking lot of the Striaton Pokémon Center. It was a massive complex, serving as the primary medical hub for Pokémon in southeastern Unova.

  “Ready?” Hilda asked, killing the engine. The silence returned, heavier this time.

  Rosa stared at the Pokémon Center. It was pristine. The hedges on the sides were perfectly trimmed into geometric shapes, and its large, expensive glass windows were cleaned without a trace of solvent. It looked less like a hospital and more like a corporate headquarters. Normally, she loathed going to her mom’s work. It was usually to study, or to administer vaccine shots to sick Pokémon. But today, Rosa had a purpose.

  She looked at Hilda’s hand, grasping the Poké Ball which held that purpose. “Let’s not keep mom waiting.”

  It was still early in the morning and yet, the Striaton Pokémon Center was bustling with noise. Nurses in pink scrubs scurried back and forth carrying clipboards and tablets. An Audino pushed a cart of fresh linens past them, its ears twitching, as the two girls made their way to the central reception desk.

  “Hello,” Hilda began, leaning over the high counter. “We’re here for…”

  “Ah! Rosa, your mother said you’d be here this morning,” the receptionist said, looking up from her desk with a practiced customer-service smile. “I’ll let her know you’ve arrived.” She picked up the phone on her desk and dialed a short extension.

  “Thank you,” Rosa said back.

  Hilda turned to her cousin. “I take it they know you here?”

  Rosa gently nodded, feeling a familiar knot form in her stomach. Being Laura Whitley’s daughter meant you were known, whether you wanted to be or not.

  Within minutes, a woman in a white coat appeared from the double doors leading to the examination rooms. Laura Whitley looked impeccable, even at this hour. Her hair was perfectly pinned without a single stray strand, her coat crisp and white as snow. She walked with a purpose.

  “Rosa,” she said softly at the sight of her daughter.

  “Hey, mom,” Rosa said, stepping forward hesitantly.

  She pulled Rosa in for a tight hug. It was warm, but brief. “You look like you woke up only five minutes ago,” she said, gently pulling away to survey the damage. “Your head.” She tilted Rosa’s head to inspect the bruise peaking out from her hairline.

  “Don’t worry about that,” Rosa said, turning her head away from her mom’s clinical gaze. “It was an accident.”

  Laura’s expression shifted. She turned to Hilda.

  “Hilda, I was so worried when Professor Juniper called. Are you alright?” She said, offering an embrace to her niece.

  “I’m fine, Aunt Laura,” She said as she entered her arms. “But we’re not here for me.”

  “Right,” Laura said, snapping back to business. “The Deerling.”

  Hilda brought out Deerling’s Poké Ball and offered it to Laura, “Here. This is her.”

  Laura took the ball. Her demeanor shifted instantly. She was now fully Head Nurse Laura Whitley. She examined the ball as if she could see through the metal casing. “From the X-ray images Professor Juniper sent us, the bullet is lodged in the anterior of the cranial flower root. Possible bone fragments. She said this Deerling is locked in Spring Form?” Laura asked, her voice clipped and professional.

  “Yes, Professor Juniper believes the bullet caused the flower to wilt, preventing Deerling from changing with the seasons,” Rosa explained.

  “Will you be able to take it out?” Hilda asked, her voice cracking slightly, almost sounding like a plea.

  “Looking at the images, the bullet is deep, but operable. I won’t lie to you girls, there’s a chance Deerling may not recover.” Laura handed the ball to a waiting nurse at her side. “Prep OR 3. General anesthesia. Have additional personnel on standby for reconstructive support.”

  As the nurse hurried away, Laura turned back to the girls. “I’m heading to scrub up. This will be a delicate procedure.” She paused and looked at Rosa, her eyes lighting up. “Do you want to come up to the observation deck? You could watch the procedure. I could walk you through the cranial nerve repairs as I work.”

  Rosa felt a cold shiver run down her spine. The image flashed in her mind: standing behind the glass, watching scalpels cut into flesh, hearing the rhythmic beeping of monitors… it was everything she hated.

  “No,” Rosa said, perhaps a little too quickly.

  Laura blinked, a hope in her eye fading into disappointment. “Oh. Are you sure? This is quite a rare case. It would be an excellent learning—”

  “Mom, I can’t!” Rosa said loudly, taking a half-step backwards. The background commotion of the Center became silent for a brief second. “I just…I can’t be in there.” Her voice edged in panic.

  Laura studied her daughter’s face. “Alright. I’m sorry.” She paused, giving Rosa a minute to recollect herself. “It will be a long procedure. You both should head out of the Center. I’ll call you when she is in recovery.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Laura,” Hilda said, stepping into the gap between mother and daughter. “Just… please be careful with Deerling. She’s very scared of people.”

  Laura smiled and placed a hand on Hilda’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, Hilda. Deerling will be safe with me. I promise.” She turned to the operating rooms and disappeared behind a heavy swing door marked Authorized Personnel Only.

  They exited the Pokémon Center, the automatic glass doors sliding shut behind them with a hiss of finality. Rosa briskly walked into the parking lot, needing to put as much distance as possible between herself and those sliding doors.

  “What was that about?” Hilda called out, jogging slightly to catch up with Rosa.

  Rosa kept walking. She felt eager to leave the Center behind her.

  “She just gets that way sometimes,” Rosa muttered, staring at the asphalt. “Never wanting to waste an opportunity.”

  “No, Rosa, you dolt! I wasn’t talking about your mom, I was talking about you!” Hilda shot back, grabbing Rosa’s arm to spin her around. “What’s up?”

  “I’m just sick of living in the shadow of my parents all the time.” She yanked her arm free and continued walking briskly toward the street.

  “You didn’t have to snap at her like that and bring your own drama into this.”

  “She doesn’t get it, Hilda! She looks at Deerling and just sees a complex case study,” Rosa argued, her voice rising, heat flushing her ears. “She’s so focused on the medicine that she forgets there’s a dying Pokémon on the table. She just sees another way to drag me back into her world.”

  Hilda’s face clenched into a frown. She stopped walking, planting her feet. “What’s with you? You’re the one who was saying Deerling is going to be fine.”

  “Yes, she will be…” Rosa picked up the pace, her frustration being taken out by her thundering footsteps on the concrete below her. “But don’t you see it, Hilda? Don’t you see how much they breathe down my neck?”

  “She’s just trying to connect with you.”

  “I’m not going to sit and listen to my mom lecture me while she works just so she can put me on a path towards medicine!”

  “This isn’t about you, Rosa! It's about Deerling!”

  Rosa stopped in her tracks. The shout echoed slightly in the quiet morning street. Hilda stood right beside her, staring at her with a scornful gaze that Rosa had never seen directed at her before.

  “All I want is for her to save Deerling, and all you’ve done is make her worry more about you instead of the surgery!”

  Rosa’s face went pale. The anger evaporated, leaving a cold, hollow pit in her stomach. She felt like a complete idiot. There she was, claiming her parents saw only patients and not living beings, and yet here she was, focusing on her own insecurities. Not giving a damn that Deerling was undergoing life-threatening surgery. She turned away, unable to look her cousin in the eyes.

  What is wrong with me?

  “I’m being selfish, aren’t I?” Rosa muttered, guilt washing over her like ice water.

  Hilda shook her head and exhaled. She crossed her arms, the fire in her eyes dimming to concern. “You really hate it that much? The medical stuff?” She asked, her tone more gentle from her previous comment.

  “Yes,” Rosa whispered. “But you’re right. I shouldn’t have snapped at my mom like that. She doesn’t need to be worrying about her daughter while operating on Deerling.”

  “Well, she’s got hours to mull over it,” Hilda said, placing her hands on her hips and looking back at the imposing white building. “And so do we.”

  “What should we do?” Rosa asked, her voice small.

  Hilda looked toward the street, her expression softening just a fraction. “How about some breakfast for starters?”

  Rosa nodded, “Okay. Breakfast sounds nice.”

  Back at the professor’s lab, Nate sat on the U-shaped couch, rubbing his side. Beneath his shirt, his side sported a large, purple bruise that nearly ran from his waist to his shoulder. He woke up sore, stiff, and in pain, but he didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t want the rest of the team worrying about him.

  The team had just finished their breakfast at the cafeteria, save for Rosa and Hilda who were not present.

  “Classes will be starting next week. The University will be a lot busier than it is now,” Cheren stated, starting idle chat with the group as he thumbed through a textbook.

  “And what classes will we be taking?” Hilbert asked, his chin resting on the palm of his hand, looking like he was struggling to stay awake.

  “We have two morning lectures,” Bianca replied in her usually cheery voice, organizing a stack of papers on the coffee table. “Paleontology and Ecology.”

  “Cool. Who’s teaching?” Hilbert said, his eyes shut as if he was trying to nap right there in the lobby.

  “Ms. Gabby!” Bianca exclaimed.

  Hilbert shifted himself to rest his head on the seat of the couch, letting out a groan. “Great. She’s going to love spending every morning with us.”

  He must be bored without Hilda.

  “It’s not going to be every morning,” Bianca corrected. “We’ll still have research missions to go on.”

  “Speaking of missions,” Nate said, shifting carefully to avoid aggravating his bruise. “What’s going to be the next one?”

  Cheren shook his head, “I don’t know, but I think Juniper is preparing for all of us to go on one soon.”

  “I’ve been preparing the logistics of getting the recovered Electric Pokémon back to Chargestone Cave,” Bianca stated, turning to Cheren. “With all that going on, we might not be going on a mission anytime soon.”

  “Are they ready to be transferred?” Hugh asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

  “Most of them are,” Bianca said. “Except for Blitzle,” she added.

  “And Elekid?” Nate asked.

  Bianca looked at him, “From what Mr. Orens told us, Elekid is fully recovered.”

  “So we’ll be transferring him soon then?”

  Bianca nodded, her hands tucked in between her legs. “I have been in contact with Skyla. She is preparing a cargo plane to transfer the Pokémon.”

  “Skyla? Who’s that?” Hugh questioned.

  “The Mistralton Gym Leader. She’s the one who transferred the Pokémon here in the first place.”

  The sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. Juniper and Gabby entered the lobby, both women in their lab coats with their hair in their normal pinned-up states. As they approached the couch, the team sat up straight, Hilbert groggily getting up from his attempt at a nap.

  “Good morning team!” Juniper beamed, looking far too energetic for the hour. “I see Hilda and Rosa are not here. Have they made it to Striaton yet?”

  “I got a call from Hilda,” Cheren said. “Deerling is undergoing surgery right now. Mrs. Whitley cleared the morning block specifically for Deerling.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear it.” She clapped her hands together, the sound sharp in the quiet room. “Now, about your other Deerling,” she said, eyeing Nate and Hilbert, “we’ll be sending them to the Season Research Lab this morning. Have either of you used the PC storage system before?”

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “Nope,” Hilbert said plainly, shaking his head.

  Nate shook his head as well.

  I’ve never even heard about it.

  “No worries, it is very simple. You both will come with me and the rest of you will go with Ms. Gabby to release the recovered Electric Pokémon to the pastures. They’re well enough to roam outside.”

  Ms. Gabby escorted Hugh, Cheren, and Bianca to the Rehabilitation Center, while Nate and Hilbert followed Juniper into her study.

  Juniper’s study was a stark contrast to the rest of the lab. It was a cluttered room filled with books scattered on shelves and desks, research notes occupying every horizontal surface, sticky notes slapped onto diagrams, and test equipment scattered around like toys.

  Juniper may be neat on the outside, but it looks like a disaster here.

  She led them to a large computer terminal hooked up to a strange device. It had concave slots sized perfectly for Poké Balls to be placed. The slots were surrounded by glass tubes, and heavy coils of copper wire hung down from the top of the tubes, looking like something out of a sci-fi movie.

  Juniper sat on a swivel chair, booted the computer up, and flipped on the device. The tubes lit up with fluorescent lights, and a low hum began to fill the room.

  “This is where you will place the Poké Ball, and once we confirm the Season Research Lab’s address, we’ll begin the transfer process.”

  “Are we teleporting the Deerling?” Hilbert asked, looking at the tubes with confusion and a hint of skepticism.

  “No. Well…not technically.” Juniper said, as she typed furiously on the computer.

  “Professor, I’ve never heard of the PC storage system,” Nate admitted, staring at the humming copper coils. “Exactly what is it?”

  Juniper spoke and typed simultaneously. “It is a data collection system that takes the fundamentals of Poké Ball design and theory and applies them to turn biological matter into data bytes to be stored on a computer. It can also work as a transfer system, which is what we will be using today.”

  “Poké Ball design and theory,” Hilbert muttered to himself, looking around the room as if searching for a simpler explanation.

  Juniper swiveled her chair to face both boys. “Have you ever wondered how a Poké Ball works?”

  Nate looked to Hilbert who shook his head.

  “I honestly have no clue,” Nate admitted.

  Juniper smiled, a glint of scientific excitement in her eyes. “It’s a complicated subject requiring an understanding of quantum physics, thermodynamics, and biology. Maybe we’ll discuss it some other time. But for now, our purpose is to send Deerling across the region.”

  She confirmed the address to the recipient and initiated the transfer process. The device began humming louder as she started the program.

  “Place the Deerling Poké Balls into the slots and shut the tubes,” she instructed.

  The boys placed their Deerling into each slot. As soon as the sliding mechanisms locked and secured the tubes, the bundle of copper wire buzzed with current. The Poké Balls on the inside began to glow with intense light, seemingly phasing from a solid object to a shimmering, plasma-like substance. The balls shrunk and evaporated in a bright flash, leaving the tubes empty. The humming from the wires ceased instantly.

  “Woah!” Hilbert exclaimed, leaning in to check the empty tube.

  “And now we wait for a confirmed successful transfer,” Juniper stated, watching the progress bar on her screen. Within seconds, bold text appeared in green reading Transfer Successful.

  “And there we have it! The Season Research Lab should be able to recover the Deerling from their end.”

  “That…was quick,” Nate said, bewildered by the advanced technology before him.

  “Indeed it was! Scientific advancements create new technologies that help people and Pokémon alike,” Juniper said, shutting down her computer. “That's all I need from you boys. You should head on over to the others with Ms. Gabby.”

  Nate and Hilbert began shuffling out of the cluttered lab room while Juniper began working at her desk, already buried in filing research notes. Before they exited, Nate turned around, “Professor, where is Elekid?” he asked.

  Juniper blinked, looking up over her glasses. “He's in Observation Room 1D at the Rehabilitation Center.”

  “Would it be alright if I went to see him?”

  “No problem at all!” Juniper said with a smile. “Just find Mr. Orens at the Center. He'll let you into Elekid’s enclosure.”

  “Thank you, professor.”

  “Oh and Nate,” Juniper called back as the boys were out the door. “If Mr. Orens thinks Elekid is fully recovered, he has my permission to let Elekid out to the pastures.”

  “I'll make sure to tell him.”

  Nate and Hilbert walked out of the lab and towards the pastures. The heat of the day was rising, and they saw the rest of the team in the distance starting to move the Electric Pokémon out into the fields.

  “So, why do you want to see Elekid?” Hilbert asked as the two boys walked along the dirt path.

  “I just want to see how he's doing,” Nate replied, not truly knowing what compelled him to seek out Elekid in the first place. A feeling, maybe.

  “Well, do you mind if I tag along? I'd like to see him, too.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Who knows, maybe he'll bust your head in like he did with Rosa. I wouldn't want to leave you alone in there with him,” Hilbert said sarcastically.

  Nate gave out a small chuckle. “Let's hope not.”

  “I told the professor Elekid is good ‘n ready to head on out,” Mr. Orens said, unlocking the door to Observation Room 1D. “He's fully recovered and hasn't caused any trouble since you helped him the other night,” he said looking at Nate.

  They walked into the rustic room. It was lined with a wooden enclosure containing Elekid. The floor was covered in hay, and the air was stiff and warm. It reminded Nate of the barn he had sheared the Mareep in.

  “If Professor Juniper is giving me permission to let him out on the pastures, then I say he's more than welcome to go,” Mr. Orens continued, opening up the wooden gate. He didn't bother dressing in electrical safety gear or even give the boys an opportunity to ask for any.

  “Then will it be alright if we take Elekid out with us?” Nate asked.

  “Sure, granted, as long as Elekid is willing.”

  When the gate swung open, Elekid sat up from his makeshift wool bed. He didn't growl or charge its electricity ready to fight, he looked curiously at the two boys entering his space.

  “Hey, Elekid. Do you remember me?” Nate approached Elekid gently, keeping his posture open. Hilbert stood back a respectable distance with hands in his pockets.

  Elekid studied Nate for a short second, his eyes sharp. He gave Nate a curt nod and turned away, laying back down on his wool bed with a huff.

  “Not much of a people person is he?” Hilbert remarked.

  Mr. Orens reached through the gate and handed Hilbert several Oran berries. “Here, why don't you give Elekid some of these? Poor fella must be hungry.”

  Hilbert took the berries and walked up to Nate.

  “He's your pal,” Hilbert said, offering an Oran berry to Nate.

  Nate crouched down to Elekid’s eye level. “Hey if you're hungry I have a berry for you. Looks like a big one too.”

  Elekid turned slightly, just enough to see the Oran berry being offered to him. He pivoted on his bed to face Nate and Hilbert. He took the berry from Nate’s hand and began nibbling at it, humming slightly, pleased at the taste.

  “There’s plenty more if you want some,” Nate said as Elekid munched on the berry.

  “He seems calm enough,” Hilbert observed, leaning against the wooden railing. “It’s hard to believe this is the same Elekid you and Riolu helped earlier.”

  “He was suffering then,” Nate said, watching Elekid finish the berry. “I can’t blame him for wanting to bite my head off.”

  Hilbert chuckled. “I wonder what he’s thinking now. Probably ‘more Oran berries.’”

  Hilbert handed Nate another berry.

  Huh, I wonder.

  Nate turned to Hilbert. “Well, maybe we need someone who speaks his language.”

  He reached for the Poké Ball on his belt, pressed the button, and summoned Riolu on the hay-covered floor. Riolu shook himself off, his eyes instantly locked onto the yellow Pokémon on the wool bed.

  Elekid stopped chewing and stood up, the plugs on his head sparking with small discharges of electricity that snapped in the quiet room.

  “Woah, Nate! Careful there,” Hilbert cried out with surprise.

  “It’s alright,” Nate said. He placed his hand out as a barrier for Hilbert to not interfere.

  Riolu stepped forward, his posture straight and confident. He let out grunts and low growls. Elekid tilted his head. He looked from Riolu to Nate, then back to Riolu. Elekid grunted back, static sounding in the airways of his voice like a distorted radio.

  “He says, ‘Discharge.’” Riolu’s voice came to Nate’s mind, clear as a bell.

  “Discharge? What does that mean?” He replied telepathically.

  Riolu and Elekid continued to converse. Elekid’s pacing began to pick up, becoming more excited, his movements jerky and energetic.

  “‘Recover. Discharge. Strength’ Elekid feels strong. He wants to show us his strength,” Riolu said.

  Elekid spun its arms with eagerness. The sparks on its head cracked and snapped in the air, illuminating the darker corners of the stall.

  “What on earth are they talking about?” Hilbert said, watching the exchange with wide eyes.

  “I…uhhh, I think Elekid wants to show us his strength,” Nate replied.

  “Really? You think so?”

  Elekid grinned, full of mischief. He hopped off his bed and began to bounce on the balls of his feet. The hay beneath him sizzled and smoked slightly. He threw a few shadow punches, his movements crisp and snapping with velocity.

  Nate watched, mesmerized. In the lab, Elekid had been a raging, electric fuse waiting to blow. But here, he was a piston. Nate looked at the thick insulation around Elekid’s arms, the dense muscle structure tailored for rapid strikes. He wasn't just a wild Pokémon. He was a natural-born striker.

  He’s strong. And he knows it.

  “You’re tough, aren’t you?” Nate said aloud.

  Elekid stopped shadowboxing and looked at Nate. The challenge in his eyes softened into curiosity. Nate extended his hand, palm open. Riolu projected Elekid’s aura to Nate. He could feel it wash over him. It filled his mind as if they were emotions of his own.

  Invitation. Admiration. Trust.

  Nate smiled. “Then let’s see it.”

  After breakfast, Rosa and Hilda found themselves in Striaton’s largest garden to kill time. The air here was fresher, perfumed by hundreds of blooming flowers. The fountain in the middle displayed a stone statue of a Kirlia, posed on one leg like a ballerina, hands in the air where two juts of water poured out onto the base. Surrounding the fountain were hedges cut to the shapes of Pokémon.

  “These are cute,” Hilda said looking at a pair of hedges shaped into a Pansage, Pansear, and Panpour.

  “Every time I come here, there’s always a different Pokémon cut into the hedges,” Rosa said.

  They found a bench to sit on and listen to the soothing sounds of water splashing and the breeze rolling through the leaves. Hilda leaned back, stretching her long legs out and crossing her ankles. Her head leaned back with her eyes shut.

  She must be tired.

  Now that the adrenaline of the argument had faded, the exhaustion of an early morning drive was catching up to her.

  They sat in silence for a moment longer. Rosa watched a Roselia dance in a rose bush and traced the path of a Combee drifting lazily between flowerbeds. The tension between them had died down over breakfast, replaced by the comfortable silence that only family can share. Rosa still felt guilty, but she knew Hilda forgave her. She just had trouble forgiving herself.

  Rosa sat, staring at the dark, blank screen of her phone. She saw her reflection in the glass and noticed a strand of hair dripping from her forehead. She knew she didn’t look her best, but she didn’t care.

  “Staring at it won’t make it ring any faster,” Hilda said, looking at Rosa’s phone from the corner of her eye.

  Rosa cracked a small smile, “You’re right. I’m just stressed.”

  “I know, but it’s out of our hands now. All we can do is wait.”

  Rosa pursed her lips and put her phone away into her bag. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “For snapping at you earlier.”

  “Forget it,” Hilda waved a hand dismissively. “Like you said, you’re stressed. And… you weren’t entirely wrong either. Aunt Laura is intense. She’s good, but intense.”

  “I think you mean she’s a machine,” Rosa corrected.

  “Takes one to know one,” Hilda smirked, then returned to relaxing her head with her eyes shut.

  Rosa let out a breathy laugh, finally relaxing her shoulders. She looked sideways at her cousin. Now that she was really looking, she saw the physical toll the last twenty-four hours had taken. Hilda’s eyes were baggy, her hair messier than Rosa’s, and a few red scrapes were scattered in the pale skin of her arms.

  “What happened to your arms?” Rosa asked, purely by instinct.

  “Huh?” Hilda opened her eyes and peeked at her cuts. “Oh, that was when I fell from Deerling’s Take Down attack.”

  “When Hilbert dove in front of you to save you?”

  Hilda looked at her for a moment, her expression shifting. “Yeah…yeah he did. He told you that?”

  “I wrapped a bandage around his elbow last night,” Rosa explained. “He bruised it up really bad. Couldn’t even bend it.”

  “Really,” Hilda slumped in her seat, staring at the fountain. “He didn’t tell me that.”

  Rosa saw the look on her face. It was a complex look of confusion mixed with a hint of betrayal.

  “He said he doesn’t want you to worry about him. He thinks you have enough to deal with without worrying about his elbow,” Rosa explained.

  “I see,” Hilda replied, her eyes diverting to the side. “Is he okay, though? Like, was it serious?”

  “I think he’ll be okay. As long as he doesn’t try to force his elbow to bend much. He can really damage the joint if he’s not careful.”

  “Oh, okay.” Hilda sat silently with a small frown on her face.

  “See! That’s why he didn’t tell you. Now you’re worried about him!” Rosa said.

  “Obviously!” Hilda exclaimed, sitting up. “I can’t have my second bestie silently suffering! And it’s my fault he got hurt to begin with.”

  “He did it because he cares about you,” Rosa said softly.

  “I know, I know. I owe him a big hug when I get back.” Hilda exaggerated a pretend pout in her face. “Thanks a lot, Rosa. Now you got me all sentimental.”

  “It was pretty ballsy of him to jump in front of a Take Down for you.”

  “Yeah, well… he certainly does have balls,” Hilda said, rolling her eyes.

  Rosa’s face lit up bright red as she covered her mouth with a hand. “Hilda! Oh my god!” Rosa tried to hold in her laugh.

  “What?” Hilda smirked. “Am I wrong?”

  “No… but…” Rosa said, trying to recover from secondhand embarrassment.

  “Hey, speaking of balls…I mean, boys” Hilda said, perking up and leaning in closer to Rosa, a mischievous glint in her tired eyes. “I saw you and Nate talking last night. What were you talking about?”

  “Nothing,” Rosa said immediately. Her gut reaction was to be defensive, but as she said it, she questioned why she did.

  “Nothing?” Hilda replied, raising an eyebrow.

  “Well, no. I told him that Elekid is doing fine. I checked its vitals yesterday,” Rosa said to save face. “Why do you ask?”

  “I just wanted to know if you asked him about his weird connection to Pokémon.”

  “No… I wasn’t… I mean, it didn’t come up.”

  “Right…” Hilda eyed Rosa for a second and then smirked.

  Why is she looking at me like that?

  “You think he’s cute or something?”

  Rosa let out a short scoff. Her cheeks felt warm again, and this time she couldn't hide it. “What? Where’d that come from?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because you seem flustered talking about him. You were flirting with him, weren’t you?”

  “No! Hilda, I’m not a flirt!” Rosa defended, face turning redder.

  “It’s okay if you think he’s cute.” Hilda placed her hand on Rosa’s knee. “Hell, I think he’s cute.”

  “Then why don’t you flirt with him?”

  “Meh…” Hilda shrugged.

  “Nate is always awkward around me. I’ve tried talking with him a few times, but he’s always shy. It feels like he doesn’t want to talk with me,” Rosa said, crossing her legs and looking down at her hands.

  “He doesn’t have a problem talking with me,” Hilda replied. “Maybe he thinks you’re cute!”

  “No, I don’t think so.” Rosa forced a laugh that sounded brittle. “I’m not sure if he even likes me.”

  “How come?”

  She thought about her interactions with Nate. Every time he looked her way he would avert his gaze. And every time she spoke with him he would always give short replies, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.

  “Maybe he thought I was weak when I couldn’t help Elekid,” Rosa replied slowly, voicing the fear she had been nursing since she met him.

  “Rosa, c’mon, that’s stupid. Why would he think that?” Hilda said, almost laughing at the absurdity.

  “I don’t know, but I can’t think of any other reason. He just… acts differently around me.”

  “Well, I think you’re overthinking it. Just try having a genuine conversation with him. He’s a nice guy. Sure, he’s a little weird, but he definitely doesn’t think you’re weak.”

  “Okay, I’ll try,” Rosa said in an ‘I’ll-prove-you-wrong’ tone.

  They sat for a little longer talking on the bench. Rosa was mid-sentence before she was interrupted by her phone buzzing violently against the wood of the bench in her bag. She quickly pulled it out and saw the caller I.D. flashing on the screen.

  “It’s mom!”

  The steady beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound in the recovery room. Through the observation window, Rosa watched the Spring Form Deerling. She was asleep, her chest rising and falling in slow, shallow breaths. A thick band of gauze was wrapped tightly around her head, securing the damaged area where the delicate flower met the skull. Deerling looked small on the table. She was fragile and gaunt, but she was alive.

  “The surgery went as well as we could have hoped,” Laura said softly, stepping up beside Rosa and Hilda. “We managed to stop the hemorrhaging and stabilize cranial pressure. We almost lost her when her heart rate spiked, but she pulled through.”

  “Will she be okay?” Hilda asked, her eyes glued to the sleeping Pokémon.

  “She has a long recovery process ahead,” Laura cautioned. “We need to keep her under strict observation for the next few days to ensure there’s no infection in the cranial cavity. She’ll also need to be fed a nutrient-rich diet to supplement the loss of the flower.”

  “The flower… is it dead?” Rosa asked. She peered through the glass, observing the brownish petals peeking out from the top of the bandages. They were small, drooping, and brittle.

  Laura hesitated, adjusting her glasses. “The trauma to the root system was severe,” she explained, her tone sympathetic but frank. “The connection between the plant and the nervous system is damaged beyond repair. It may be possible for the flower to bloom again, but given Deerling’s condition, it is unlikely.”

  “What does that mean for Deerling? Will she die?” Hilda turned to Laura, her voice edging on panic.

  “No, Hilda. Deerling can live without the flower, but it is a vital source of nutrients for the Pokémon’s body. She will need to be looked after by humans for the rest of her life. She wouldn’t stand a chance in the wild.”

  A heavy silence settled over them. The injury was a scar, a permanent reminder of the violence the Pokémon had endured.

  Rosa looked down at her hands, twisting the hem of her shirt. The silence between her and her mother felt louder than the beeping of the monitor. She thought about the argument earlier, the shouting, the frustration in the parking lot. She hated the distance. She looked at her mom, the woman who had vouched for her to follow her passion, and took a deep breath.

  “Mom?” Rosa asked, her voice tentative. “The injury to the head. How did you manage to close it without putting pressure on the brain? I mean, with the skull exposed like that, wouldn’t stitching it up be dangerous?”

  Laura looked up, blinking in surprise. The fatigue in her eyes vanished, replaced by a spark of genuine professional interest.

  “That’s a good question,” Laura said, straightening her posture. “You're right, standard cranial stitching would have caused too much compression. So, we didn't stitch the bone. We had to focus on the vascular bed, the network of blood vessels right underneath the flower.”

  Rosa nodded, listening intently. “So… you focused on the veins?”

  “Essentially,” Laura replied, her speaking pace picking up with enthusiasm. “But the real challenge was the nerve endings. Because the plant shares a neural pathway with the brain stem, we couldn't just cauterize the wound. We had to use a microsurgical approach to ligate the individual vessels. Then, we applied a bio-compatible hydrogel to seal the dura mater, that’s the membrane covering the brain, to prevent any fluid leaks while the skin grafts heal over it.”

  Ligating vessels? Dura mater?

  Rosa stared at her. She understood “neural pathways” and “cauterize,” but the rest blurred together into a medical soup. She opened her mouth to ask what ligate meant, but her mother was on a roll.

  “It’s actually quite delicate work,” Laura continued, her eyes bright. “The hydrogel mimics the body’s natural clotting factors, allowing the tissue to…”

  Laura stopped.

  She looked at Rosa, who was nodding slowly with a glazed look. Rosa was trying, she really was, but the gap in knowledge was wide.

  “I’ve lost you at hydrogel, haven't I?” Laura asked with a small smile.

  “Actually, you lost me at the word ‘ligate.’ But… I see that you put in a lot of effort to save Deerling.” Rosa looked down at her shoes, the rubber squeaking slightly on the tile. “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. I shouldn’t have added more stress right before the surgery.”

  Laura turned and pulled Rosa into a hug, one that Rosa returned fiercely, burying her face into her mother’s lab coat.

  “Oh, honey,” Laura murmured into her hair. “I’m sorry too, Rosa. I know Deerling is special to you and Hilda. I didn’t consider that this was your Pokémon and not just a wild one.” She pulled back slightly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Rosa’s face. “You were brave today. Both of you. I’m glad my sister and I have such compassionate girls.”

  Rosa wiped her eyes, managing a weak laugh. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Hilda, Deerling is your Pokémon, correct?” Laura asked, turning to her niece.

  “Yes,” Hilda nodded.

  Laura looked to the ground, then back up. “I sent Professor Juniper an email regarding Deerling’s successful surgery and said I required at least three days of observation. Juniper replied saying to send Deerling to the Season Research Lab when she’s recovered.”

  “Oh. I see. So… I won’t be seeing Deerling again?” Hilda asked, her voice tight.

  “I can tell Juniper I will send Deerling to her lab just so you can say goodbye.”

  Hilda looked through the glass at the sleeping Deerling, her eyes glistening. She swallowed hard. “No, that’s okay, Aunt Laura. Deerling would be better off going to the Season Research Lab as soon as possible. She needs special care to survive anyway, right?”

  “Yes, she does.”

  “Then I don’t need to say goodbye. Knowing that she’s safe is good enough for me.”

  Rosa watched Hilda stare into the observation room. Her face was firm, but her hands were trembling. She knew her cousin, and she knew her well. Hilda was hurting. She was just too proud to show it.