Cynthia knew she should be paying attention. Normally she always did with this kind of thing, because, honestly, what could be more fascinating than a Pokémon battle? Archaeology, history, even learning about Pokémon, those were all right up there, sure, but in the end battling had always been… different.

  Watching two strong trainers collide, feeling the rush in her chest, tracing each feint and counter, knowing that every second could tip the scales. She loved it. She always had. Really, any other time you’d have to drag her away to keep her from watching a match that caught her interest.

  Which only made the question gnaw all the sharper.

  Why were her eyes fixed on the ground instead of the battlefield?

  “So, I guess we never discussed how we wanted to do this? You have any preference?” Myst’s voice rang out, almost casually.

  “How about we use standard rules, but do a two-on-two? I mean, a full battle would be best, and all my Pokémon are battle-ready, but…” Flint paused, then shrugged. “Well, Magby’s still pretty young.”

  “…you know I only have two Pokémon, right? Rei and Navi—my Buneary and Kirlia,” Myst replied, his voice flat.

  “…Yeah, of course I knew that.”

  Cynthia’s fingers tightened against the stone barrier until her knuckles ached, before she forced her eyes off the ground and up toward the two boys currently squaring off at the center of the arena.

  This was, without question, a match she had been looking forward to.

  Sure, she’d never seen Flint battle before, but that didn’t make her blind. People compared him to her, sometimes even favorably. That alone said enough. She might have wanted to dismiss him, but she wasn’t going to lie to herself, he had to be good.

  And Myst?

  Well, Johanna had said it best, Myst was a genius. Even setting aside his unnatural knowledge and the fact that he had come up with something like the concept method, he was simply smart. He absorbed nearly everything she taught him on the first try, and when he didn’t, he worked at it until he did. He trained his Pokémon with relentless focus, pushing them not just to use their moves but to master them, perfecting each one far beyond what most people would ever consider a worthwhile use of time. He wasn’t perfectly rounded, but in his fields he was even better than her.

  So, this was, by all rights, a battle between two trainers who stood among the very best of their generation. She should have been razor-focused, clinging to every motion, every word. So immersed that even the sound of the crowd melted away, as it always did—even during the casual ebb and flow of pre-battle talk.

  “Really, you…” Myst paused, sighed, then shook his head. “Is that so surprising?”

  Flint blinked, thrown off by the response. “Kind of? Most trainers going for the full circuit usually have three by their second Gym.”

  Myst tilted his head, “I guess I’m not most trainers then.”

  Flint shrugged, a cocky grin pulling at his lips. “Fair enough. Volkner says Cynthia’s a freaking genius, so I guess you probably won’t be average if you’re traveling together.” The grin shifted into a smirk. “Still, I’m sorry I’ll have to do this to you in front of her. Gotta show off a little, you know?”

  But she wasn’t focused.

  No, far from focused, she could barely even comprehend their words. Barely even force herself to keep her eyes from drifting back down to the ground.

  Because she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  Desperately, she pinched herself, hard, willing her thoughts back to the present. The sting barely grounded her, but it was enough, just enough, that when she lifted her head, she found Flint watching her. His expression shifted the instant he realized she’d noticed, lips curling into a smug grin. With a lazy salute, he turned on his heel and strutted across the arena.

  She blinked, then flicked her gaze to Myst.

  He was watching Flint go, his face a neutral mask. No banter, no grin—nothing. His eyes bored into Flint’s back as though dissecting him, stripped of the usual flair he brought into his matches. Some part of her mind registered the difference, but before her thoughts could catch up, he suddenly turned—eyes locking onto hers.

  She froze.

  He smiled softly, and lifted his hand—

  And all she could see was his hand closing around her wrist.

  Her heart kicked against her ribs—

  His voice stumbling over words—

  Heat crawling up her skin—

  “Cynthia, I—”

  She ducked behind the makeshift rocky barrier.

  The stone was cool beneath her fingers. Far cooler than it had any right to be.

  Brilliant.

  Completely brilliant.

  Her nails scraped against the rough surface, clawing like she could somehow dig her way inside the rock and vanish.

  Completely. Freaking. Disgustingly. Brilliant.

  Seriously, why was she hiding from him? Wasn’t she the one who wanted to talk about it? She had hinted at it, after all. Not on accident, not without understanding what she was saying, but purposefully. And now, after being the one to say ‘is that all you wanted to talk about’ in that tone—she was the one ducking behind a rock? Wasn’t that just… stupid?

  Her head hit the wall.

  She wanted to say that she wasn’t. That she was mature enough to stand up and not feel like a complete failure.

  But she couldn’t.

  Because Cynthia didn’t lie to herself.

  After all, the reason she couldn’t seem to look him in the eyes was very simple.

  Today.

  Yesterday.

  Every day since she had acknowledged that she might like Myst.

  She’d been swept away.

  No matter how many times she promised she wouldn’t let it happen, her thoughts betrayed her. How many nights this past week had she curled up in her tent, face burning, imagining what it would be like if they were together? Worse, how many times had her mind drifted into something so profoundly fucking stupid as picturing their children—would they have his eyes and her hair, or the other way around?

  It was ridiculous. Silly. She liked Myst, fine, she could admit that much, but hadn’t she already said so?

  That she didn’t want to be in a relationship.

  That she was too unsure of her feelings to try something.

  That she was still scared.

  Her head sagged against the stone, the chill seeping into her skin as her eyes began to sting.

  There were a million books about relationships forming over journeys. A trillion sappy movies where love bloomed between battles. She’d heard the whispers and the giggles everywhere—plenty of girls her age adored them.

  But she never had.

  Romance had always seemed… juvenile. She didn’t want a relationship. She wanted to complete the circuit, catch a team, grow stronger, explore ruins, unearth some hidden truth of history.

  She had her entire journey planned out.

  She—

  Cynthia clenched her fists, forced herself upright, and swiped her sleeve across her eyes, banishing any hint of tears that weren’t even there. Then she turned and glared at the true culprit behind all this.

  She didn’t get him.

  He knew things he shouldn’t, didn’t know the things he should, and was definitely not the kind of person she’d pictured herself traveling with.

  Honestly, when they first met, she had barely even liked him.

  Really, it was just that Rei had been too cute to leave behind.

  Really, he was just—

  Stupid.

  Irresponsible.

  Insecure.

  Myst raised a hand, eyes glinting as a burst of red light flared in front of him. Rei appeared half a meter above the ground, twisted in the air, and landed low with one hand braced against the dirt. Slowly, deliberately, she rose, meeting the Monferno across the field with a glare sharp enough to cut stone.

  Heat rushed to Cynthia’s face before she could stop it. A spark in her chest. A fireball blooming in her stomach. She bit her lip.

  He was—

  “I can still take it easy on you, you know?” Flint’s voice rang out, a grin sprayed across his face.

  He was—

  Myst tilted his head, and his long black hair, tied back in a loose ponytail, slid over his shoulder. Two months ago it had been nothing but a Starly’s nest, but now the dark strands fell sleek and straight. His features had softened with the journey; the hollowness of his once-emaciated face filled out, sharpening his cheekbones. Lips that hovered between serious and smile, dimples he never seemed to notice.

  She yanked her gaze away from his mouth, tried to focus on his eyes and glare.

  He was so—

  Clear eyes, shining like ice-blue crystals, fixed on Flint.

  So—

  Unfairly.

  Stupidly.

  Fuckingly—

  Myst’s eyes met hers for just a heartbeat before he turned back to Flint, smirking. “Honestly, Flint… you don’t know it yet, but—”

  “But what?” Flint pressed.

  Myst’s smirk sharpened. “I’m pretty sure you never had a chance of winning from the start.”

  Handsome.

  For a brief second, time seemed to stand still—until a loud cough rang out from the opposite side.

  “Sorry to break up the pre-game banter,” the referee said dryly, “but we’re on a schedule here. So, I’m skipping the ceremonial fluff and starting the match after a three-count, alright? If you’re not ready… well, maybe you should’ve thought of that before wasting three minutes trading words.”

  Cynthia’s glare fixed on Myst as he nodded slowly, infuriatingly calm. But as the referee raised a hand, her expression softened despite herself. With a sigh, she let her fingers slip from the stone barrier, arms falling to her sides. Her hand drifted almost on its own to Queenie’s Poké Ball, the familiar curve grounding her, steadying her breathing.

  Seriously, she needed to make a decision, didn’t she?

  She tilted her head back, staring at the mountain ceiling.

  Now, if she could only figure out—

  “Huh, I guess we found you after all.”

  A dry, almost bored, male voice called out from behind.

  It was immediately followed up by a female one.

  “Seriously, you weren’t there when we met up, and being late isn’t like you, so I honestly would have been worried if not for—”

  Johanna broke off mid-sentence the instant Cynthia spun around. She froze mid-step, her words choking off as her mouth fell open. Beside her, Volkner’s eyes widened—a hairline crack in his usual calm mask.

  “You—” Johanna began, but before she could finish, the referee’s voice thundered.

  “Start!”

  Cynthia whipped back just in time to see Monferno vanish in a blur of brown and red. In an instant it had crossed the battlefield, fist cocked and already hovering an inch from Rei’s face before she could even blink.

  BOOM!

  Dust exploded outward, the shockwave rattling Cynthia’s chest. She clutched the barrier to keep from staggering.

  Her eyes stung from the haze. Monferno had—what, already landed a blow? But before she could peer through the cloud, Volkner appeared at her side, exhaling hard.

  “That has to stop working one day, I swear.”

  Johanna stepped up at Cynthia’s right, tilting her head. “Opening with Mach Punch? Isn’t that just par for the course?”

  “Sure,” Volkner murmured, eyes narrowed, trying to pierce the haze. “But few take it as far as Flint. He’s trained Monferno to fire off Mach Punch—or Quick Attack—the instant a battle starts. Most people wouldn’t call that honorable… and yeah, maybe it isn’t. But honestly? If you can’t handle it, train harder and make it worthless. Because right now, I’ve yet to see a Pokémon react in time without knowing it’s coming.”

  Cynthia tore her eyes from the dust, blinking, only having half caught his words. “Huh. I… wouldn’t have taken him for the type to rely on something like that.”

  Volkner gave a low, wry laugh. “Yeah, I didn’t either when we met—or my Luxio, for that matter. Flint calls himself a Fire-type specialist, but really? He specializes in doing whatever it takes to win. Don’t underestimate him just because he plays the fool. There’s a reason I only beat him half the time.” He paused, then added, “Still, you’re not worried at all? Monferno doesn’t need to win with that first punch. Just landing it can do massive damage—it’s super effective, after all.”

  Cynthia turned back as the haze began to thin, words tumbling out a beat too slow. “I… would be worried, but… well—just because you haven’t seen anyone react to it yet—”

  Another explosion split the air, tearing the haze apart in a shockwave that rattled the stone barrier. She flinched at the force, her pulse kicking up despite herself. For the first time since the match began, her attention locked fully onto the field.

  Monferno crouched low, one fist buried in the dirt, stuck, the other locked tight against Rei’s. Fire crackled against lightning, Fire Punch straining against Thunder Punch, as sparks and embers spat from the clash—neither side giving an inch.

  “—doesn’t mean nobody ever will,” Cynthia finished, eyes locked on the field.

  Volkner’s eyes widened slightly. “How—?”

  Flint’s exuberant shout cut him off.

  “If she won’t let you go, then double the pressure!”

  Monferno’s eyes narrowed, lips curling into a grin as its jaws opened wide. Heat gathered in its throat, a glow building even as its fist stayed locked with Rei’s.

  Her eyes widened at the sight, and in a split second she realized what the Playful Pokémon was doing.

  Volkner wasn’t kidding when he said not to underestimate him.

  Using two moves at once was already something you’d only expect from a trainer at the four- or five-badge level. But using two of the same type simultaneously? That was another matter entirely, the kind of trick that took ages to master, and usually for little benefit. After all, it still drew from the same energy source. One half of the move had to suffer.

  But here?

  It couldn’t have been timed better.

  Sure, Monferno was taking forever to charge what should’ve been an instant strike. And yes, the Ember it spat out would be weaker than normal—but none of that mattered.

  Because it forced Rei to make a choice. Cancel Thunder Punch and Fire Punch would instantly break through. Retreat? Absolutely possible, but it would give Monferno time to rip its fist free, giving up the advantage that Rei had gained by being able to react to its initial rush.

  Really, against any other Pokémon it would have worked.

  And yet… Myst raised an eyebrow, leaning back lazily with one hand in his pocket, and Cynthia couldn’t help but smile.

  “Double it? Isn’t that stingy?” His mouth quirked up. “Rei, how about we triple it?”

  After all, the operative word in her thought had been any other Pokémon.

  Rei’s other ear flared icy blue and snapped forward with a whip-crack, slamming into Monferno’s open jaws before the Ember could ignite. Frost burst across its lips, the monkey staggering back, teeth clacking shut with a muffled yelp.

  Ice Punch.

  It barely managed a single step before the next strike was already there—

  Rei’s fist, wreathed in fire, driving into its ribs with a dull thud that rattled the air.

  Fire Punch.

  Monferno reeled, arm rising, flames sputtering as it tried to counter—

  Too late.

  Rei spun, motion fluid and merciless, her heel arcing up in a crackling arc.

  Thunder Punch.

  The strike caught Monferno clean, ripping its pinned hand free and launching it across the entire arena. The Fire-type slammed into the stone barrier with a resounding crack, the impact spiderwebbing the surface.

  Then, it hung there for a second, before dust rained down as it slid into a heap.

  Beside her, Volkner froze, the usual laziness stripped from his features as his eyes tracked the monkey. Monferno staggered upright with a screech, dazed but defiant, refusing to fall.

  Rei didn’t let it breathe.

  White light burst across her body as she blurred into a streak, Quick Attack hurling her across the field.

  Monferno lifted its head—

  The glow surrounding Rei shifted.

  Like water rushing into a single channel, the energy powering her Quick Attack drained down into her legs, flooding them with sharp, brilliant Normal-type power.

  Monferno blinked.

  Rei smiled.

  Her right foot snapped out, momentum crashing forward with the light—

  Only to meet a red fist.

  At the last possible moment, Monferno had lashed out, Fire Punch colliding with Rei’s kick in a flash of heat and power. The impact wrenched Rei upward, the monkey forcing her leg back. Sensing an opening, Monferno tilted its head, red energy gathering in its throat—

  But Double Kick was called that for a reason.

  Rei reversed her momentum, and her other leg scythed down like a guillotine, hammering into its skull before the Ember could ignite.

  BOOM!

  The monkey slammed face-first into the dirt, a burst of dust erupting skyward and swallowing both Pokémon from view.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  For a few long seconds, only the murmur of trainers and the muffled clash of blows carried through the haze—until Johanna shattered it with a sudden sneeze. She sniffed, wiped her nose, and glared at the battlefield as if it had personally offended her.

  “Okay, seriously, what is up with this place? Did you build the battlefield on top of a dust mine or something?”

  Volkner didn’t even glance her way. His eyes stayed fixed on the roiling dust at the center of the field, voice distant as if on autopilot. “Wasn’t this bad at first. But unless they’re trained for it, even Rock-types can only reinforce the foundation so many times before the ground starts to give.”

  Cynthia gave a faint nod, though her gaze had already drifted past the haze, sliding toward Flint. When her eyes finally found him through the haze, she froze. She had expected frustration, maybe even desperation, but instead—"

  —he was grinning ear to ear.

  “This is what I’m talking about!” Flint almost screamed, before letting out a burst of laughter. “Holy—alright, I’ll admit it, you surprised me! That Buneary of yours is tough as shit, but—”

  The battlefield erupted. A pillar of fire roared skyward, tearing the haze apart as Rei darted back just ahead of the blast.

  Heat slammed into Cynthia, whipping her hair into her face. She raised an arm to shield her eyes, squinting through the blaze. At the heart of the inferno, Monferno stood tall, wreathed in its own flames. The air rippled around it, Fire-type energy spilling off in waves, a living storm of heat and fury.

  One word burned through Cynthia’s mind.

  Blaze.

  “We aren’t done yet!” Flint continued, voice crackling with the fire. “Show them how much you’ve still got, Monferno!”

  Monferno didn’t advance as much as detonate. Dropping low, it tore across the field on all fours, fire streaming behind it, twisting into a blazing wheel. The battlefield shook with every impact of its limbs. The flames condensed, spiraling tighter until the shape became unmistakable.

  Flame Wheel.

  Rei, still skidding back from the shock of Blaze igniting, dug her feet into the ground and pivoted the instant she found balance. She locked onto the oncoming inferno, ears twitching, eyes narrowing. For a heartbeat it almost looked like she hesitated—

  And then white light erupted across her body.

  A vicious grin split her face, trembling with barely contained excitement. Rei didn’t waste time with feints or pretenses. She became a blur of white, Quick Attack crushing the softened ground beneath her as she launched forward like a lightning strike, racing headlong into Monferno’s firestorm.

  Cynthia’s eyes widened.

  There was no way—

  “Bounce!”

  Rei vanished and Cynthia didn’t see the leap itself—only the blur of white swallowed whole by the flames.

  That should say everything about how fast Rei could be.

  Her head snapped up on instinct, just in time to catch Rei plummeting back down. White-blue light sheathed her legs in a cutting edge of energy, tearing through the air as Bounce drove her earthward.

  Charging Monferno head-on had only ever been a way to buy time.

  “Force it up!” Flint roared, his grin widening.

  But it was still their first mistake.

  Monferno didn’t reach for a new move—it didn’t need to. The blazing wheel encasing its body twisted, fire churning violently against itself. In an instant, the momentum inverted, the flames ripping free in a sudden burst. What had been a rolling inferno exploded upward, spiraling into a savage column of fire.

  Fire Spin.

  The column roared, a living furnace that split the battlefield in two. Heat slammed against Cynthia’s face, searing the air from her lungs as she shielded her eyes.

  For a heartbeat, Rei’s silhouette writhed inside the inferno—then vanished.

  “Cage her in!” Flint roared.

  Monferno followed the command. The monkey dropped low, eyes snapping shut, arms thrust forward. Its fingers clenched together as if molding something unseen.

  The Fire Spin shuddered.

  At first it had been nothing more than a wild tornado, flames whipping in violent chaos. But now the blaze bent to Monferno’s will, tearing itself apart and flowing like molten water. The spiral collapsed inward, coiling tighter and tighter until the inferno drew down to the ground—condensing, sealing itself into a blazing halfsphere.

  In seconds, the tornado was gone—

  And in its place burned a cage, a perfect dome of fire searing the battlefield.

  Cynthia’s gaze flicked to Johanna, and met her wide eyes—a fair reaction, considering she was sure hers looked the same. Together, they turned to Volkner. He blinked once, tore his eyes from the cage, and let out a long, weary sigh.

  Johanna jabbed a finger at the blazing prison.

  Volkner followed the gesture, then gave a slightly embarrassed smile. “I didn’t mean Flint wasn’t a good Fire-type specialist. He is very, very good, but—” He paused when he saw their looks, and instead just let his head fall. “Okay, my bad.”

  Johanna snorted in triumph before turning back to the field.

  Then, after about ten seconds with nothing changing, Johanna’s smug expression wavered, giving way to concern. “Rei is fine, right?”

  Cynthia parted her lips to answer, but Volkner beat her to it, nodding.

  “Probably. After all, it’s not as bad as it looks. Unless Flint’s made some really big advancements since I last fought Monferno, this is about the limit of how much he can shape it. And even then—yeah, it’s a stronger trap, you can’t escape upward—but at the end of the day it’s still just Fire Spin. If Rei were Grass-type, sure, it’d rack up real damage. As it stands…” He cut a look at Monferno and shook his head.

  Cynthia followed it and instantly realized what he meant.

  Monferno’s chest heaved with ragged breaths, each inhale dragging fire through its lungs. The blaze wreathing its body sputtered unevenly, licking in harsh bursts instead of flowing smooth. Its knees trembled as it held the cage in place, muscles straining, sweat streaming down its fur despite the flames.

  The Fire-type energy around it still burned brilliantly, but it was a wild, unsteady brilliance, like a torch burning too hot and too fast. Even from across the arena, Cynthia could feel it, Monferno was pouring everything it had into maintaining the prison, forcing its body past the edge of collapse.

  It wouldn’t last.

  Of course, it wasn’t exactly surprising. Unless explicitly trained for it, Monferno wasn’t a Pokémon built to take hits. Compared to something like Byron’s Lairon or his Mawile, Rei might not have landed as many hits, but she simply didn’t need to.

  Her eyes slid back to Flint. He hadn’t noticed—or didn’t care. He was still grinning ear to ear. She almost frowned, before a thought entered her mind like a lightning bolt.

  “Wait, is he—” she began, before stopping herself.

  Volkner answered anyway, shooting her an impressed look. “Trying to squeeze out as much damage as he can? Yeah. When Monferno hits Blaze, you’ve got maybe one, two strikes to end it. It pushes everything higher, but it also eats through the last of their strength—like a bonfire burning too hot.”

  Johanna leaned forward with a small smile. “You could even say like a bonfire blazing too hot.”

  Volkner groaned. “Or that. Point is—Flint knows he’s losing. After the way this started, when he couldn’t use Blaze to land a decisive blow, there was no real chance of turning it around. So instead of praying for a miracle, he’s wringing out every last drop of damage he can. And honestly? With how slippery Rei looks, it’s the call I’d make too. If Myst wanted, he could’ve just stalled Flint out instead of fighting head-on—and then winning would’ve been impossible.”

  The battle didn’t end with a bang, no final clash like so many matches she had watched before.

  It ended with Monferno sagging to its knees, the blazing cage guttering out as it did. One last flicker—and the fire unraveled, dissolving into wild, uncontrolled bursts of Fire-type energy.

  Before the referee could even call it, a beam of red light cut across the arena, pulling Monferno back. Cynthia followed it to Flint, who held the Poké Ball close, mumbling something under his breath. When he raised his head again, his grin was gone—for the first time since the match began, frustration tugged at his features.

  “Well,” the referee said dryly, “that was certainly a way to end things. Either way, we’ll continue. Flint, send out your next team member.”

  Flint didn’t instantly respond, his gaze flicking back to Rei instead. The Buneary had only just managed to push herself upright. Her fur was scorched, her sides heaved with every wheezing breath, and she looked like she’d clawed her way out of hell.

  The Fire Spin had left its mark, but Cynthia knew better than anyone how stupidly resilient Rei was. There was still plenty of fight left—

  “I want to switch.” Myst called out.

  Rei snapped back, ears shooting sky-high. She opened her mouth, undoubtedly to object, but another voice cut her off.

  “What, already? C’mon, man—your Buneary’s still standing! Look at her! She’s a beast! If you yank her now, you’ll kill the hype!” Flint cupped his hands around his mouth, grinning like a kid at a carnival.

  Cynthia paused, stopping her eyes from traitorously sliding to Myst and instead snapping them back to Flint.

  She stared at him for a long beat, then turned to Volkner.

  “Are you sure Flint doesn’t have a case of split personality?” she asked flatly.

  Volkner gave a short huff. “Pretty sure. He’s just like this. Honestly, it’s why, when I first met him, I thought he was an idiot. I mean, it felt like the only way he kept from jamming his foot in his mouth was by staying quiet. So when we finally battled, I figured he’d fight straight. Every other part of him screams textbook Fire-type specialist.”

  His mouth twitched in something almost like a smile. “But he doesn’t. He fights more like a Dark- or Psychic-type trainer—squeezing every advantage he can, not caring if it looks good, just focused on getting the job done.”

  Myst didn’t argue with Rei, but she seemed to realize he wasn’t going to budge. With an exaggerated pout, her ears drooped and she let out a huff, before stomping over to his side.

  He crouched as she reached him, brushing a hand briefly over her head in silent thanks, only to let out a helpless smile when Rei simply folded her short arms over chest, looking away like a grumpy teenage girl.

  With a shake of his head he straightened, fingers brushing the next Poké Ball at his belt.

  A burst of red light split the air, and Navi appeared in the center of the field. The Kirlia blinked, head tilting slightly as the glow faded, then drew in a steadying breath and looked up.

  Across the arena, a matching flash revealed Drifloon, its stitched gaze locking onto hers the instant it formed.

  “Like last time; I’ll count you in,” the referee said. “One—”

  Cynthia forced her eyes off Myst and looked back to the field.

  “Two—”

  The watching trainers stirred, many of them leaning forward, attention sharpening.

  “Three—”

  An incredulous voice rang out from the crowd, “Wait, am I crazy, or is that Kirlia actually shin—”

  “Start!” the referee barked.

  Navi’s eyes flashed a deep purple as her hand snapped up—Psybeam lancing toward Drifloon in a straight line.

  Drifloon didn’t even try to dodge.

  The Balloon Pokémon bobbed sharply aside as a Gust slammed into its side. With a completely unnatural jerk, it was dragged out of the beam’s path, wobbling and spinning like a kite on a string.

  Navi didn’t let up. Her hand tracked the bobbing balloon as she fired beam after beam, only for Drifloon to twist and whirl like an out-of-control leaf, slipping past each shot with eerie ease.

  Cynthia blinked at the sight. Back in Eterna, she had fought a Drifloon that had been almost stationary, too sluggish to dodge through movement alone. Flint’s, though… it was different. The same lightness that once made Drifloon unable to move quickly—he had turned into its greatest advantage.

  How could you hit it when it used the force of your own attack carry itself out of harm’s way?

  Navi had clearly realized the same thing. She raised her other hand, glimmering with Psychic energy, and clenched it shut.

  Drifloon floated left, dodging another Psybeam—only for a thick band of purple force to snap around one of its stringlike arms.

  In an instant, the Balloon Pokémon was yanked down, making it spin around that single anchor wildly, as if desperate to break free.

  As if.

  As another Psybeam approached, Drifloon’s frantic motion turned precise. Using the tether as a pivot, it swung in a full arc—straight into the heart of the Psybeam. Its body shuddered as the beam tore through it, crashing against its Aura, but instead of being blasted back, Drifloon kept going, riding the momentum of its own spin. The purple glow clinging to its body darkened, snapping to black.

  Confusion shattered—

  And all Cynthia could see was a black blur.

  Payback.

  BOOM!

  Cynthia jerked her gaze toward the impact, but all she caught was a blur of white and blue as Navi was hurled backwards, too slow to Teleport away. The force of the blow almost sent her crashing into the arena wall, just like Monferno had earlier.

  Almost.

  At the last instant, a purple energy snapped tight around her entire body, halting her momentum.

  Cynthia blinked, dumbfounded. She wasn’t one to underestimate Pokémon, but how could Navi possibly have the presence of mind to—

  Her gaze darted to Navi, hovering in midair and panting hard.

  The Kirlia’s eyes were icy blue.

  “Fire!” Flint’s voice snapped.

  Drifloon gave Navi no chance to breathe—its stitched mouth already forming a ghastly orb of shadowy energy.

  Too slow.

  Navi didn’t even bother to raise an arm. Instead, she opened her mouth—

  And s???????????????p?????????o????????????????????k?????????e???????????.

  The word cracked through the air like shattering glass, making Cynthia flinch as the sound burrowed into her ears. She forced herself not to look away—

  And then froze.

  Drifloon’s Shadow Ball hadn’t stopped forming. The Balloon Pokémon hadn’t even flinched. It simply floated there, mouth still shaping the attack, the orb of darkness nearly complete—yet frozen in place, as if time itself had snagged on a thread.

  Oh.

  Double Team.

  Navi’s eyes flashed blue, then she spun, one hand flicking forward as a Psybeam flared to life—

  Too late.

  As the Drifloon channeling Shadow Ball faded, the real one was already behind her, its body wreathed in sinister blue fire.

  Before Navi could spin around fully, the flames leapt from Drifloon’s body and rushed her, spectral wisps latching onto her dress and arms. She cried out as the fire clung and burned, her Aura flaring crimson as she snapped her eyes shut, seemingly unable to control herself in the face of the pain.

  Drifloon didn’t waste the opportunity. Its black eyes shimmered with ghastly light, a low keening sound filling the air as cursed energy coiled around its body.

  A black eye formed, slowly opening—

  Navi smiled through the pain.

  Even with her eyes squeezed shut, her crownlike horns burst with brilliant purple light. Navi snapped her hand upward—

  And the arena floor exploded.

  A million tiny rocks tore free, each one wreathed in purplish Psychic energy as they launched skyward. They didn’t scatter blindly. Instead, the storm of stones bent together, streaking in perfect unison toward a single point in the air.

  Drifloon had no time to cut its attack short, no space to slip through on a Gust, no room to ride the wind of the attack. There was simply no way it could avoid—

  “Protect!” Flint’s voice cracked across the field.

  Cynthia blinked.

  In an instant, Drifloon’s Aura surged outward, bursting into a shield of whitish blue laced with ghastly energy. The stones slammed against it in a deafening cascade, each one bursting apart in a spray of purple sparks. The storm shredded itself against the barrier, causing fragments to fall from the sky as dust.

  Navi’s attack—completely negated.

  At first glance, a clean win.

  Johanna still shot Flint a look. “He knows that’s a bad idea, right?”

  “Probably,” Cynthia said slowly, not letting her eyes drift away from the battle. “I think he’s betting the trade is worth it. Monferno and Rei tore up the field, making it possible for Navi to attack with that much mass at once. Pop Protect here, pulverize the debris, and you deny her the same play next time.”

  Johanna sighed. “I guess, but you get what I mean right?”

  Cynthia nodded.

  After all, there was a reason why Protect wasn’t often used in Pokémon battles.

  As the last of the rocks shattered, the barrier shattered too, but Drifloon didn’t move. It simply hovered there, frozen in place, not twitching a muscle as it struggled to rein its Aura back under control after the violent backlash of expanding it so suddenly.

  Navi didn’t waste that chance. She smashed her hands together, and ghastly energy coalesced between them in an instant. If this had been back when she was a Ralts, she would have been too slow. Drifloon would have recovered before she could finish, ready to punish.

  But Navi wasn’t a Ralts anymore.

  Drifloon’s stringlike arm twitched—

  And a sphere of dark, ghostly energy arrived, sinking into its body as the air warped around it.

  Shadow Ball.

  Drifloon didn’t explode backward, didn’t cry out in pain. It only sagged slightly, one stringlike arm twitching—before it instantly righted itself and drifted clear of Navi’s next Psybeam.

  Cynthia wasn’t fooled.

  Shadow Ball was a Ghost-type attack; its strength came from bypassing physical defenses entirely. Against Drifloon, it was doubly punishing—super effective. If she had to guess, another Shadow Ball would probably knock it out outright. And even if it didn’t, the Balloon Pokémon would be weakened enough to faint from a stiff breeze.

  “How did Kirlia…,” Volkner muttered beside her, eyes narrowing as he watched Drifloon slip back into its eerie evasive dance—only to almost get hit when Navi’s Psybeam suddenly curved.

  Even so, it barely managed to weave past, the beam grazing one arm, before it found its rhythm and the next shots slammed into the dirt instead, scattering dust and sparks across the field.

  Cynthia glanced at him. “How did she figure out where he was?”

  Volkner nodded slowly, gaze fixed on the field as Navi tried once more to pin Drifloon in place with Confusion—only for the Ghost-type to snap free with Payback, forcing her to teleport away in a flicker of light.

  “Two options,” she said. “Either she used Telepathy to borrow Myst’s vision, or she’s sensing Drifloon’s mind directly. Probably the first one, since Payback would probably break a direct connection.”

  His head turned toward her, sharp. “She’s that good with Telepathy? How long has Myst—”

  Cynthia cut him off, with a shake of her head. “She is, but she hasn’t been with him for long. It’s just that her first Ability was Telepathy, so she has a head start.”

  Volkner blinked. “…That’s a thing?”

  She shrugged. “Apparently.”

  He furrowed his brow, starting to speak again—

  —but Flint’s voice cut across the arena.

  “C’mon, buddy, don’t let her be the only one playing! Show ’em that you can do some tricks too!”

  Drifloon reacted instantly to its trainer’s call. One moment it was racing across the battlefield on its own Gust, bobbing and weaving as Navi’s Psybeams curved after it—each blast ripping into the dirt where it had just been.

  The next?

  Drifloon dodged right—

  And it didn’t.

  Like frames in an animation, every movement left a perfect echo behind. Each dodge smeared into an afterimage: pale balloons flickering, unraveling like smoke as Psybeams tore through them—missing the culprit.

  Within a heartbeat, there weren’t just one or two false Drifloon, but half a dozen. They hung in the air like broken film reels, twitching and stuttering in jerks of motion.

  Cynthia narrowed her eyes, locking onto the only one that drifted smoothly.

  Double Team was a strange move, balanced on a curve. Weaker trainers spammed it endlessly. Decent trainers dismissed it as a waste. After all, any halfway-trained Pokémon could spot the fakes instantly. The best? They crafted illusions sharp enough to pass for real, just long enough to trick even another Pokémon.

  But this?

  Navi didn’t hesitate. Her gaze snapped to the only drifting Drifloon that moved smoothly, and with a flick of her hand the battlefield rumbled. The scarred ground, stripped bare earlier, split open once more as the impact craters from Psybeams gave way, and fresh shards of stone burst skyward.

  Like a conductor leading an orchestra, Navi lifted her arms—and a thousand tiny stones answered. They rose in perfect unison, shredding through every phantom balloon before streaking toward the single Drifloon still gliding through the air, the only one left—

  Okay, Cynthia would admit it.

  Flint was good.

  —because that one vanished too.

  Navi spun in place, eyes flashing blue, searching for the real Drifloon, trying to understand how she’d missed it. Finding nothing, her mouth snapped open again—

  Too late.

  A ripple stirred at her feet. Her shadow warped, stretched, and split apart like melting ink—

  And Drifloon rose out of it.

  Its body hung half-formed in the darkness, its stitched eyes glowing an otherworldly violet. Behind it, something vast and wrong seemed to open: an eldritch eye, ancient and unblinking, staring straight through Navi’s soul.

  Hex.

  She froze, just for a second—

  And then crimson light ripped out of Navi in jagged bursts, staining the air in a mixture of Fire and Ghost-type energy.

  Her body jerked as if struck, her own shadow twisting into sharp, broken shapes around her. Her opened mouth made a sound, but it was thin, shrill, and wrong, more tearing than screaming.

  The light flared brighter, casting the stone barrier in blood-dark silhouettes. Navi’s outline wavered as if she were being pulled apart, her pink-purple Aura straining against the flood of ghastly red energy.

  For a moment, the clash faltered. Her Aura buckled, compressed, and then—

  Exploded.

  The world drowned in violet as Navi erupted with Psychic energy, an omnidirectional wave blasting outward. It crashed into Drifloon like a brick wall, slamming the Ghost-type midair.

  The stitches along its body twisted as it shuddered under the sudden Confusion. The eldritch eye behind it flickered, sputtered, then snapped shut with a violent pulse.

  Navi’s knees buckled, but she didn’t collapse.

  With sheer will she forced her head around, just in time to see Drifloon’s body shimmer with Dark-type energy, gathering into Payback.

  Her mouth snapped open—

  And she s????p?????????????o????????????k?????????e??????????.

  Disarming voice.

  Drifloon’s body spasmed mid-lunge, the dark shimmer of Payback scattering and guttering out as its form wobbled like unstable.

  Navi tried to pivot, but her body gave out beneath her. She collapsed hard onto the dirt, limbs refusing to obey.

  Drifloon seized the opening, its stitched mouth beginning to swell with shadowy energy—

  But before even a spark could gather, Navi’s hand twitched against the ground.

  The earth answered.

  A jagged stone shot upward, forcing Drifloon to jerk aside with a startled wobble. It spat out a weak Gust in retaliation, but the attack barely formed before Navi’s body flickered and vanished.

  A heartbeat later, she crashed back to the ground a meter to the left, landing hard, her limbs still refusing to catch her.

  “Don’t let up, buddy!” Flint shouted. “She’s slipping, one good hit and we’ve got this!”

  Cynthia blinked at the sound, her gaze snapping toward him. He wasn’t smug about winning, not even a little. Just brimming with energy, practically vibrating with excitement. Even now, with the match balanced on a knife’s edge, he was grinning like a fool, barely stopping himself from shouting loud enough to distract his own Pokémon.

  It was odd.

  Yesterday, after their meeting, she would’ve found that grating. But now, a small smile crept onto her lips. For all his ridiculousness, there was something about the way he poured everything into his partner, every scrap of energy, every ounce of himself—like he couldn’t hold it back even if he tried.

  It was almost admirable.

  Her gaze drifted across the arena to Myst. Gone was the serious, tight expression he’d worn at the start, all stern focus and determination to prove Flint wrong. Now he was smiling, grinning, like he couldn’t help but get swept up in the battle too. Rei stood beside him, ears stretched straight up, eyes locked on the fight as if she could join it by thinking hard enough.

  “Navi, don’t give up! Remember—we still have ways to recover!” he called.

  Navi raised her head just in time, barely rolling clear of another Gust, her eyes locking on Drifloon.

  The Ghost lifted a stringlike arm, glowing sky-blue, and fired another compressed burst of air.

  Gust.

  Navi flickered—vanishing—

  And reappeared crashing down on top of Drifloon.

  Her weight wrapped around the balloon and dragged the exhausted Ghost straight to the ground. The impact rattled the dirt, a puff of dust bursting up around them.

  Cynthia’s eyes flicked away from Myst, just in time to see Navi’s body shimmered with soft pink light. Energy lashed out like tendrils, sinking into Drifloon and tearing at its Aura, drawing it into her own battered frame.

  Draining Kiss.

  But Drifloon’s strings flared black. With a guttural hiss, the Ghost slammed both arms into her, Payback detonating point-blank.

  The ground shook with the impact. Navi screamed as the pink glow around her fractured into shards of light before she was hurled skyward. She crashed down with a dull thud, her body limp on the dirt.

  Cynthia sighed at the sight.

  In the end, Drifloon’s type advantage. being a Ghost type against a Psychic, was too—

  Her gaze snapped back to Drifloon.

  The balloon-like Pokémon wobbled, its stitched body sagging as it struggled to stay afloat. The last traces of black energy guttered out, its mouth opening soundlessly, as if it wanted to protest, to keep fighting. For a heartbeat, it held on.

  “Yes!” Flint cheered, fist pumping skyward, like victory already in his grasp—

  And then Drifloon slumped. The balloon Pokémon drifted down, sagging like a punctured kite, before crumpling onto the dirt beside Navi.

  Flint froze, his grin faltering mid-breath.

  Beside her, Volkner let out a long sigh. “Honestly… looking at him, you’d think he almost just won the whole match.”

  Cynthia lifted a hand to hide her smile.

  The referee raised a hand from behind the barrier. “Both Drifloon and Kirlia are unable to battle. Trainers, please clear the field.”

  …

  Just because she’d realized there were parts of Flint she might like didn’t mean it wasn’t cathartic to see him like this. Sprawled over their table, his face buried in his folded arms, lips pushed into a pout, he let out another small groan.

  “I know, I know. I heard you the first time.”

  Volkner arched an eyebrow. “Oh, did you? Because I could’ve sworn the first time I told you this was a month ago—and you didn’t change anything after that.”

  Flint lifted his face to glare at his friend. “Well, it kept working, so what would you have me do? Stop doing it?”

  Volkner didn’t even blink. “Yes. Because, like I told you then, the second it stops working, it’ll do so dramatically.”

  Cynthia hid a smile at the byplay. Watching the match, Volkner had seemed to hold a grudging respect for Flint’s use of Mach Punch as an opener, but right now the truth was obviously less important than underscoring a point.

  Flint groaned. “Okay, fine, you were right, okay? I should’ve focused more on what Monferno should do if somebody responds in time.”

  Volkner let out a sigh. “Good enough, I guess.” He paused for a moment, before glancing toward her. “But, like, are you okay?”

  Cynthia stiffened slightly, as if she wasn’t already sitting ramrod straight, and tried to make her smile casual.

  “Pardon? What exactly do you mean by that?”

  Volkner threw her another weird look, his eyes shifting from her to Myst sitting beside her, then back again. “I mean, both of you just seem a little bit…”

  Johanna’s eyes shone with delight as she opened her mouth—

  Flint slammed the table. “Never mind that! Dude, Myst, I need to know—how the hell did you get Rei to react to Monferno?”

  Myst blinked, eyes moving away from her to meet Flint’s. “Huh?”

  Cynthia relaxed slightly, glancing at Myst from the corner of her eye.

  When they’d first sat down, he’d worn a victory-warm smile, and she’d chatted with him easily about the match. But the longer they sat, the more she felt herself tighten, thoughts drifting back to everything else that had happened today. And as if he sensed it, Myst had slowly tensed too, tightening by degrees in step with her.

  "I mean, no offense, but I couldn’t see clearly, so I’m seriously curious. Mach Punch makes a Pokémon about as fast as Quick Attack, and I’ve trained Monferno to be even faster. Normally that kind of speed makes it impossible to react to unless you’re already half-expecting it—so how did Rei parry it and drive his arm into the ground?"

  Myst blinked again.

  “Uh, I mean, it’s mostly about how fast Rei can acti—” He leaned forward as he spoke, his arm brushing lightly against hers.

  Cynthia tensed.

  “—vate her moves,” he finished, the word catching. “She can—uh—we’ve been working on… timing.”

  Silence.

  Flint slowly tilted his head, eyes flickering between the two of them. Then his eyes widened, like something clicked. His mouth snapped open—

  Cynthia went cold.

  He wasn’t going to blurt out—

  She froze, eyes wide.

  He totally would.

  Her mouth snapped open, desperate to—

  “That makes sense! Timing, of course! She had to be on cue. That’s what you mean, right? You probably had to train her ability to instantly activate moves, because that’s part of how she pulled off that attack combo with the elemental punches!”

  Cynthia paused.

  What.

  Myst stared at Flint. “Ehm. Yeah. Sure. That was exactly what I meant.”

  “I mean, it’s so obvious, right? Of course I get why you were hesitating—this is sort of your secret training method, right? But no worries, I promise I won’t tell anybody. Honestly, you’re a real bro for even telling me. Most people wouldn’t explain, but—”

  Johanna burst out laughing.

  Flint stopped himself and shot her a look. “What?”

  She tried to wave him off, but only managed to double over the table, helpless.

  Flint blinked, glancing around the table as if someone else might share his confusion.

  Volkner sighed and patted his shoulder.

  Myst gave him an awkward smile and a shrug.

  Then Flint’s eyes found hers, and the instant Cynthia caught his innocent confusion, her poker face cracked. Heat rushed up, and she snapped her head away before it could show.

  “Ehm, I guessing I am missing—"

  She stood up.

  She was going to talk to Myst.

  Today.

  Honestly.

  “Volkner, we’re battling tomorrow.”

  She just needed one second to herself.

  Volkner blinked at her. “…Okay?”

  She nodded, serious. “So I need to go prepare.”

  Another blink. “Okay.”

  She spun on her heel and walked off. Very seriously.

  She would talk to him today.

  …Seriously.