AN: First fic since 2018; engineering classes were...a lot. A conglomerate of thoughts I've had. I've always had a soft spot for Soulsilvershipping, and I find it so funny that Pokemon Vietnamese Crystal, of all things, alluded to it long before HGSS was ever released. There's some Blackthornshipping, but it's not the main feature.

Silver and Clair centric. Italics are thoughts and reminiscences being told to somebody else. (Or texts whenever relevant).

Gameverse, but with bits filled in from the manga and anime.

It had been three months already, but Silver still felt out-of-place in the Dragon's Den. Not imposter syndrome; he could wipe out the junior dragon tamers with one arm tied behind his back. No, he thought as the others laughed and whispered among themselves, the problem was that they all grew up together, and their dynamic left no room for a boy from Viridian and his weavile.

He loitered as he waited for them to leave. He did not want an audience when he spoke with Clair. The gym leader, fortunately, was always the last to leave. She enjoyed having the space to herself. It wasn't as if she had anything to wrap up, for she demanded her subordinates clean up after themselves. Silver didn't particularly blame her.

Despite their rocky beginnings, he'd grown to appreciate Clair. She was subdued and insightful in private. For all her orneriness, she alone in the den seemed to understand him.

When they were finally alone, Silver approached her slowly, conscious of his gait. She knelt by the lake with her kingdra.

"Can I talk to you, please?"

She smirked. "What do you think you're doing right now? Give me a minute, and I'll be with you."

Her kingdra glanced at Silver through heavy-lidded eyes. He used to think the old legends of dragons to be nothing more than Blackthorn propaganda, until he glanced into Charybdis' eyes. Something, powerful and primal and older than time, lurked in those murky red pupils and struck fear into his heart.

Not fear, he corrected himself. Not anymore. And certainly not after he trained for long enough.

He watched them in apt admiration. Silver saw many a trainer play with their snubbull, their bond ultimately superficial and transactional even as they laughed and frolicked and swore their lives to each other. But the quiet communion between Clair and Charybdis…Silver saw that connection too with Lance and his dragonite, or Lyra and her ampharos. That look of devotion and understanding, as if they were parts of the same entity. Clair would lose to either Champion any day, but no one could deny her connection with her pokemon.

His friendship with his pokemon was forged from necessity. They listened to him in spite of his clumsy brutality, because he'd acquired them as infants, and then they were all stuck in a foreign region with no one else in the world. Though he and Shadow had been inseparable since childhood, he had a ways to go before the rest of his team embraced him unequivocally.

A quiet splash of water indicated that Charybdis had submerged. Clair's cape swished as she stood up.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I was thinking," he began levelly, "about my prospects after I finish training, and what I want to do with my life. I'm here to consult with you."

She twiddled with the clasps on her cape as she pondered. It was funny how...normally she and Lance dressed, when they weren't in the ceremonial garb reserved for posters and special events. Her shirt and white capris were a far cry from the skin-tight, blue leather she was usually associated with. The cape she retained was lighter and more casual than the usual billowy fare.

Silver remembered when he made fun of her clothes and internally winced. He thought it would impress Lyra. It didn't.

"You can do whatever you want after you leave," she said. "Our trainers never have trouble getting positions. Your bond with your pokemon has certainly progressed since you came here."

"It was fine before too, no?"

"Your pokemon clearly only stuck with you, because you were all in the same boat. Except for the weavile," she added, "and even then, you're lucky he has such a competitive personality."

He bristled but couldn't deny that being on the run was a great bonding experience.

"My problem is that I don't know what I should do with my life," he explained.

She raised an eyebrow. Silver cleared his throat and continued. "I mean, look at me. I'm training in the Dragon's Den, and my main pokemon is a Dark-and-Ice type. The only dragon I have is my gyarados, and that's not technically a Dragon type. Why the hell am I here?"

"You're always free to leave, you know."

"I mean," he added hurriedly though he knew she was joking, "I guess I'm learning a lot. But I just don't know what I'm working towards."

"There's nothing wrong with being a rainbow trainer. Taking care of so many different types of pokemon is difficult, but you get good coverage. I am proficient with all types of pokemon. Lance, too. We exclusively train Dragon types, because we feel a special kindred with them."

Yes, she certainly did.

"That's different. I don't feel that way about Dragon pokemon."

"Well, why did you accept our offer to train here then?"

A good question. An excellent question, really.

Silver knew why.

To learn how Lance had been taught, so that he might one day defeat the former Champion.

Because the Den was exclusive, and he didn't have anywhere better to be.

To find a new family, one that could protect him when Archer (or god forbid, his own father) inevitably came knocking down his door.

Perhaps most importantly of all, to stay close to Lyra, because she would be forever intertwined with the Dragon's Den. She was friends with Lance, as well as the first person to pass the Dragon Elder's tests in decades.

But he knew that none of these were sufficient for Clair. The only correct reasons, in her mind, were to become a dragon master or to learn from her. Silver studied the art of lying through the years, but he remained unbearably poor at masking his true emotions. There was no way he could say any of that with a straight face.

"I don't know," he finally said.

She scowled. "You made a conscious decision to come here. You had to have reasons for doing so."

And then her face softened.

"The Dragon Elder has adjourned tonight," she said lightly. "You can tell me whatever you want. I'm very good at keeping secrets."

Right, he grimaced derisively, because she had no one to tell them to.

They said she had a "calming influence" on pokemon, an ability to convince any mon to listen to her. That was supposedly the key to her explosive success as a trainer. Silver saw it regularly with rampaging dragons and even his own team. He wondered casually if her aura applied to humans. Probably not, given how most people tended to stay clear of her. But then again, he wasn't "most people", and he had to confess that her demeanor reassured him.

"I don't understand why your grandfather asked me to join your clan," he started, "and he won't tell me why either. I'm not weak. I know that. But it seems very random, doesn't it? I don't train Dragon pokemon. I don't even connect that well with them specifically. I feel—no, I am—out of place, and I don't know if people will take my time here that seriously since I'm not and don't think I'll ever be a Dragon specialist."

"I know."

"You what? What do you know?"

"About my grandfather asking you to join our clan."

"Well, why'd he ask?"

She pursed her lips and looked towards the den's entrance. "I know that you don't understand my grandfather. I don't either. He was interested as soon as he met you. I pointed out that you showed no real interest or aptitude for Dragon pokemon. Lyra? I understand. Dragon blood runs through her ampharos' veins. You? Not so much. But he insisted that you would be a good addition, and that I couldn't possibly understand."

"Any guesses?"

"You're strong and are competent with many types of pokemon, and you hail from a powerful bloodline."

He scowled.

"You can't deny the strength of your lineage."

"Yeah, I can." A scoff, though his father was indeed powerful. "You do it all the time."

The sides of Clair's mouth tended to twitch whenever she got annoyed. She immediately forced it into a strained smile.

"I do not," she corrected him. "I speak well of my grandfather, even when we're fighting. And for my father, I will always speak well of his strength, character, and impact. I would do so even if he were alive! I know, objectively, that he can't hold a candle to the likes of Walker. Well, no one can. Walker was—well, is—the greatest trainer of his generation. You came to Johto after he left. People can talk all day about Daisy and her Horn-Drill-seaking, but Walker and Articuno struck sheer terror into Unovan hearts. That changes nothing. My father is my father."

"I meant Lance."

A huff, and years of ingrained inferiority settling in her face.

"I'm sorry," Silver said contritely. "That was a low blow. Old habits die hard."

"It's fine."

"I'll leave now, if you'd like."

"No, stay." And she plopped herself onto the stone ground. "Sit with me."

He did. Maybe it was the six hours of sleep he got last night, or the lump of sentimentality in his throat. He didn't know. But something was breaking in him, and staying with her felt so right. Clair was strong, and she lived with such conviction.

"To be honest," he started carefully, "I came here, because I was afraid-"

"Of?"

"Well, 'afraid' might not be the right word. I don't really know how to describe it. The Dragon Elder approached me two days after I'd just been pulverized by the Elite Four. I mean, I got through Bruno and Will, no problem, but Karen steamed me 4-0, and then Lyra just shows up just a day later and waltzes through everyone. I was feeling really damn terrible when I left the Indigo Plateau. I was slipping behind and getting further and further from her every day."

Clair's eyes were piercing, but not judgmental. "So you did come here to train."

"Not quite correct." He sighed. "I didn't want to lose her."

"Silver, you're close friends."

"Yeah, I guess we're tight now. Though, I was such an ass to her in the beginning. I thought she was really cool, the way she battles and deals with problems, but I-I couldn't admit it to myself, I guess. Lyra's probably one of the smartest people I know. And I-"

Genuine friendship, the kind you sought out and tried to maintain, remained novel to him. He could never shake off those long years in the battlefield of Rocket society.

His childhood hadn't been too bad in the beginning, really. Giovanni could still muster genuine paternal affection back when he was a Champion, and Ariana hadn't thrown herself into her work. Even after they returned to Viridian, Silver could believe that somebody had his wellbeing in mind while his grandmother lived.

But he couldn't just blame everything on his circumstances, could he? After all, his sister certainly wasn't a friendless outcast.

Even as he lived and learned about the impact of nurture, Silver would always believe in the strength of nature. After all, both he and his sister grew up on the artificial stage of Viridian society. But whereas Silver grew up lonely, despondent, and increasingly angry at the artifice of the world, Tina drank in the attention like a heliolisk in water.

The shining star to Silver's black hole. Universally loved, basking in adoration, while he rejected overtures of friendship and remained ignored by those that mattered to him. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd had a deep, satisfying conversation before the age of eighteen. She embraced Team Rocket, while he recoiled away.

It was all so ironic, he realized in hindsight. For all of their differences, both he and Valentina eventually abandoned their family heritage. She left home three-and-a-half years before everything blew over, and she never looked back. Perhaps they did have more in common than their blood-red hair.

"I'm not great with people," he finally told Clair. "I didn't have an-a lot of friends growing up. You know how sometimes you'll meet someone, and you just want to be friends with them? Yeah, that. I didn't approach Lyra properly, because I'd never felt that way before, and it scared me. I should have asked for her number and hung out or something. Instead, I ambushed her all the time and told her she sucked at life, because I thought she'd think I was pathetic if I was nice. I know, it's stupid. You can laugh."

Clair cracked a smile. "You're lucky, you know, that she's the way she is. Most girls would have thrown a restraining order at you and left it at that."

"Yeah, I know. Ethan tried."

"Who's Ethan?"

Silver frowned. "Didn't he challenge you?"

"No?"

"He would have come right after Lyra. Or before."

"Never met him."

Well, that was weird.

"Interesting. He talked about scheduling his Elite Four battles."

A look of realization came over Clair's face, but she said nothing. Silver made a note to ask about it later.

"He's one of the new Olivine trainers," Silver clarified.

"Good for him. And good for Jasmine. She can't run on a skeleton crew forever."

"She dated Lance, didn't she?"

"Yeah, like eight years ago."

"You don't sound enthusiastic about her."

She sighed. "I don't know her enough to dislike her. I tried being friendly, but she never reciprocated." A pause. "Lance liked her a lot. She's exactly his type."

"And that's…?"

"Very pretty. I think she looks like an alien, but Lance thought she was one of the prettiest girls he'd ever met. Also good at battling, and a loner, social-outcast kind of personality. Not that Jasmine's an outcast, but she keeps to herself."

"Well, why'd they break up then?"

"She's cold and hard, just like the Steel type." She grimaced. "Dragons don't pair well with that, you know."

It was one of the things he hated most about Johto. Pokemon type personality theory was the kind of antiquated concept people in Kanto would bring up whenever they wanted to wax lyrical about how society had "progressed". To categorize humanity by the pokemon they trained—to believe, say, that Dark specialists were fundamentally irredeemable, or that Poison trainers were incompatible with Fighting experts—was absolutely ridiculous.

"I'm joking," she sighed. "I don't actually believe in that stuff. Grandfather does, though."

"Anyways," he said after a short silence, "about why I joined the Den. I originally picked on Lyra because I wanted an ego boost from beating a Silver Conference winner. All the other trainers getting starters from Elm that day were unredeemable weaklings."

"Yes." A pause. "It's rather ludicrous to term her meganium a 'starter' when she'd already won a region-wide tournament."

"Right. We kept up pretty well at first, and then she started getting really strong." He scoffed. "Whenever I lost, I figured I'd win next time, but I'd lose again and rechallenge her. Rinse and repeat. She liked the concept of a rival, and she thought I was so ridiculous it was 'actually quite funny'. We started really talking in Azalea."

Ah, good memories. The prospects of curbstomping Proton turned out to be a great icebreaker. Silver scoped out the grunt guard, and Lyra did the actual evicting. Afterwards, they bonded in a cafe over how pathetic the green-haired pretty boy was.

"I'd find her after every gym, and we'd argue over a battle. Then after the showdown at the Goldenrod Radio Tower, she and Ethan dropped off the map. We talked at the Ice Caves once, but nothing more. I figured she found out about my dad and didn't want anything to do with that."

"And now you're best friends?"

"Kind of. Maybe. I'm not sure."

Clair raised an eyebrow, but she didn't say anything.

"I guess we talk every day except when she doesn't respond for two days. I know she's busy. I don't know if I'm her best friend, okay? She knows so many people."

"I guarantee you she doesn't talk to all of her friends every day," the gym leader remarked. "So how did you go from the Radio Tower to this?"

"I got her number after Victory Road. Finally. That changed everything."

"You traveled Victory Road together? You said you two didn't talk much then."

"I'll…" He swallowed, "...get to that."

Silver ran his fingers through his hair as he reminisced. "Right as I was leaving the Indigo Pokemon Center, they aired a bit. 'New challenger headed for the League tomorrow', it said. At that point, I hadn't seen her in two months. I thought it was a sign. I never put too much thought into when I'd challenge the Elite Four. I just got antsy from training and figured I should just do it. So the fact that I happened to pick the day right before hers-"

"And then you two bumped into each other, she won, and the Dragon Elder contacted you?"

"Yeah, that's the short of it."

But before all of that, he frantically ran to the beginning of Victory Road. It took long enough without the trainers, and he could not risk Lyra changing her mind or leaving-and-reentering. He could not lose track of her again.

Lyra tended to do important things in the morning. She woke up at 725 AM, he knew. If she were to arrive at 8 AM, then he had 14 hours to wipe Victory Road of all its challengers.

No, he didn't, he realized. Eviscerating them before nightfall provided a night for recuperation. When did they begin their morning shifts?

And that was how he ended up sneaking into Victory Road at 455 AM.

Shadow honed his claws menacingly as they waited for the trainers to show up. The bruised purple sky stretched endlessly in front of him. Each individual battle dragged its feet, but time flew too quickly for his dazed mind. What if Lyra arrived in the afternoon, and all the trainers recovered by then?

This was all so illegal, he mused as he watched yet another pokemon fall to the weavile's claws. Trainers needed to wait at least three weeks after each failed challenge. He was at what, eleven hours? That wasn't counting the unusual brutality—high even for his standards—he just exhibited.

And yet, Silver couldn't bring himself to care. He'd spent three years hiding from Team Rocket, the Kantan government, and the InterPol. He had a good decade of trespassing experience. What was one more predator, one more charge?

But the thought of losing Lyra forever tore his heart in two.

Nothing good ever lasted. Kindness was cheese tied to a mousetrap. Camaraderie was fleeting. Love was a string of pretty words, woven to lure him in before dissolving his insides alive.

Silver cursed himself for being hopeful. It was only a matter of time before she inevitably abandoned him, if she hadn't already. Two months, and he still believed that she wanted to see him? Every second she spent on him, every sweet word she uttered...it was all out of pity, wasn't it?

He was so goddamn pathetic.

It worried him, the lump of fire in his throat and the leaden weight of his limbs and the tornado of longing sweeping through his head. Even as he pushed with every ounce of willpower he possessed, he was too far gone. She consumed his heart, and then she consumed his soul.

Silver eventually gave himself a verdict. He just needed to defeat her in this one last battle. Then he could finally convince himself that she was weak and unworthy and resigned to a boring insignificant life, that he did not need love or trust or whatever snake oil they peddled. Let an empty Victory Road be a testament to his strength.

"You could just have, you know, met me at the beginning of the route," was the first thing Lyra said when she finally biked to the end of Victory Road. But she was grinning from ear to ear as she spoke to him, and Silver felt a weight lift off his heart.

"I didn't realize, okay?" Even as he scowled, he couldn't help but laugh.

It was a story he could tell no one. If Lyra breezed through Victory Road in ten hours because all the trainers had just been brutalized by a madman, then so be it. If her friend, who lost to the Elite Four twenty-three hours ago, backpedaled to defeat the trainers for her, she would be challenged endlessly.

"Did you ever really want to become Champion?" Clair asked.

"No," he confessed.

"Then why did you face the Elite Four?"

Because his father was the "number one in the world", and Silver felt some perverse obligation to one-up that meaningless title.

"Because I wanted to."

"Just for fun?"

"Kind of. Lyra was doing it, so I figured I might as well." He shrugged. "And as redemption, in a way."

"Redemption for…?"

"It was right after Giovanni deserted Viridian, and-"

Silver readjusted his collar as he debated telling her. He'd confided in almost no one, and he wanted so badly to let it out of his system. But sadness came in chains, each painful memory linked to the one before it.

"-I thought it would be a good idea to try and take over-"

He'd told this story once already, albeit unintentionally. Perhaps, the second time around—

Lyra asked him in her typical alacrity, weeks ago, about the whereabouts of his father. She meant nothing serious by it. The Champion, for all of her intelligence, flitted from thought to thought like a ribombee.

"I haven't seen him in three years," he replied.

"Oh. Do you miss him?"

"Not really."

She stared at him. Even as her honey-brown eyes remained impassive, she slid over awkwardly and swung an arm around him. Instinctively, Silver stiffened.

"I'm sorry. That was really forward of me."

"No!" he protested, as he tried to recover that which he unwillingly forfeited. "No, that was completely fine. I'm just not used to being touched."

He took a deep breath. "It was very reassuring," he said in a last-ditch attempt to recover her proximity.

She laughed lightly and replaced her arm. Her touch was lighter now, Silver noted. She'd been nervous the first time. Maybe, he thought with an uncharacteristic dash of giddiness, it was not a platonic gesture.

"We weren't that close before he left," Silver began. "The last time we really spent time together was when he was still a Champion. He used to give us VIP tickets to his matches. I was what, five? And even then, I could see how big that was. I loved those battles. His nidoqueen would roar, and it would be so awe-inspiring that the opponent could only retreat.

"I wanted to be like him! I used to practice the way he threw his pokeballs, using apples," he laughed mockingly. "Dad would gently pat his balls into the air while he watched his opponent get ready. And then when the match started, he'd toss it into the ring with just the lightest touch. A flick of the wrist, while the rest of him stayed stoic."

"You do that too," Lyra pointed out gently.

"Yeah, old habits die hard."

"So what happened after he left the Champion's throne?"

"We moved back to Viridian. My grandmother stepped down and forced my dad to take over Team Rocket. Something about 'whipping him into shape', apparently. And then everything just fell apart. My old man got too busy for me, though he always had time to take my sister to meetings and give her private lessons. I mean, I get it. Tina was way older than me, and they have a ton in common. She thinks the same way he does. I really can't complain. Sure, he saw me for three hours a week, if that. But he was nice enough when we met, and he gave me everything I asked for."

"You're not wrong for complaining," Lyra said. "My dad doesn't even live with us, and he still makes us feel loved."

He nodded. "Eh. I had Grandmama, and we got along great. It's kind of funny. My dad goes on and on about our great ancestry, but my grandmother actually taught me about my heritage."

"What's your heritage?"

"I'll tell you some other time."

A look.

"It's nothing bad or evil or even jingoistic. Trust me. It's just that I-I don't really like talking about my grandmother. It makes me miss her."

He shifted the conversation. "Right, about my dad… he's definitely done with Tohjo. If he ever comes back," the redhead mulled, "it will be in twenty, thirty, forty years. If he's still alive then."

All he could feel was the torrent of memories pounding through his hand and Lyra rubbing his back. Her hands were surprisingly warm, he noted in spite of himself, remembering how cold they were when she made him feel them in the Mahogany Ice Caves.

Giovanni snuck out of their manor the night after his catastrophic battle with Red. The back-to-back losses were nothing of significance, really—while he was undoubtedly one of the most—if not the most—powerful trainers in Kanto, Giovanni did not feel a need to flaunt it. Before he left the Viridian Gym to Rocket executives, he happily granted badges to those who performed to his fairly reasonable standards.

Only the absence of his persian indicated that anything was awry. And only Silver's nerves, driving him to a 2 AM walk, let him catch his father mid-flight.

He was compelled to make his father remain in Viridian. After all, he lived off the wealth and influence of the Vittore name. He possessed none of the worldly experience that he needed to thrive.

"You told me you were the number one in the world!" Silver cried. "Are you gonna quit just like that? What are you going to do now?"

He also believed, on some superficial level, that it was his filial duty to convince Giovanni to stay, and that he would come to regret it if he did not at least try.

"One must acknowledge one's defeat before he can move on." His father's face was stony. "I will go solo, for now, so that one day I will form a stronger organization."

"What aspect of you," the boy screamed, "was number one? Gathering so many, only to be defeated by a mere child!"

But most of all, Silver wanted one rare and most significant gesture of love: for his father to reject the next chapter of his life, all for the son he ignored. Dads did that all the time in books and movies, didn't they?

All he received was a sermon about the importance of learning to wait.

"You can train in Viridian," the red-haired boy pleaded desperately. "You can keep an eye on your opponents. And all those other Gym Leaders were involved, and they're not-"

Giovanni laughed, a short deep bellow. "The difference is no one appreciates their degree of involvement. The most condemning documents were artfully destroyed. And at any rate, they'll stay behind, because their first and foremost responsibility is to their cities."

"But-"

"I, on the other hand," his father continued, his voice ice-cold, "am the leader of Team Rocket. It is my responsibility to uphold the organization that my ancestors so painstakingly constructed. You too will understand one day."

"I don't want to understand you!" he screamed into the dark. "I will never become someone like you. A coward when you're alone. Acting like a tyrant when you're in front of other cowards!"

His father slipped his hat over his eyes and began to turn away.

"I will become strong! I will become a stronger man all by myself!"

"I'm sure you will," Giovanni said calmly as he walked away. His placidity only served to incite Silver.

"All by myself!" he screamed into the night.

Silver was tempted to follow his father. He could haunt his old man forever, he mused. For all his dedication to ancestry, Giovanni never fully harnessed his Dark abilities. He could not run through the shadows and was consequently limited to the tedious speeds of human legs. But Silver knew better, and so he retreated to the comforting darkness of his room.

"I'm sorry," Lyra said softly.

"It's nothing."

"Oh, and," she added, "I'm sorry about the tower. I always thought Ariana looked familiar, but I chalked it up to the hair. If I knew, I would have taken her out."

He waved his hand nonchalantly. "It doesn't matter. It was fast. And she was never all that into the whole mothering thing. Too busy with 'company stuff', supposedly. She left us with a nanny, and she refused to be left alone with us. She's a stranger to me now-"

A pang of sorrow hit his heart. When he was five, she took him out to lunch with Tina and a friend's family. All he could remember was moving through the motions of love, recreating the actions of the other children but never eliciting the same warmth they so freely received.

And he certainly would never forget the desperation he felt when he flipped the table. He didn't mean to. He only wanted to indicate the consternation he felt inside. The tabletop was flimsier than he realized, and it tilted immediately. If his mother was distant before, she became icy-cold.

"-and she's a manipulative, difficult woman."

"It's better for all of us then," Lyra remarked, "that she's not around anymore."

No, there was nothing wrong with manipulation. It was crucial to life. But when he plotted, he designed his machinations around his goals. His mother aimed to destroy and humiliate.

It was always about power when it came to Ariana and the Rockets. Life was a zero sum game, and humanity operated on survival of the fittest. That which was delicate—happiness, sentimentality, sorrow—was to be destroyed. He did not need vulnerability or compassion if he was strong enough to smite anyone who dared oppose him.

Ariana disappeared not too long after Giovanni.

"We're moving," she said simply.

"Where?"

She shook her head. "Wherever is convenient."

"What are you doing?! And who's 'we'?"

"I, Archer, Proton, Petrel—I don't know if you remember them. They're some of my colleagues."

His fingers slowly clenched into a fist. "You're trying to revive Team Rocket!"

His mother neither confirmed nor denied it. "You're free to stay here. The servants left last week, but I'm sure you can hire more from your trust fund. Eventually, the InterPol will show up and take you into custody."

He moved to join them. After all, Team Rocket was his destiny, wasn't it? As it had been for his father before him, and his grandmother before that. His father didn't like it too much originally, someone—probably Grandmama—said, but he eventually grew into it. Under Neo Team Rocket, Silver could finally obtain the authority he craved. Immunity from those Rocket executives and aristocrats who used to torment him. An opportunity to show Giovanni how it was really done.

And then a wave of realization washed over him.

"I don't want anything to do with you," he told his mother, "or Team Rocket, or whatever pathetic initiatives you're trying to lead!"

"Very well," Ariana sighed dramatically. "I expected you to say something like that."

She paused and looked away. "I have been a terrible mother to you, and for that I apologize. I was just as confused as you were. I always knew that you were smart and powerful, and I was afraid to praise you in case I jinxed your future."

He stared at her.

"But really—if there is anyone that can muster the old vestiges of Team Rocket and rebuild the empire, it is you." Her blood-red eyes, set in a pallid and severe countenance, glimmered with pride. "For you are your father's son."

Some small part of him, the boy who longed for his parents' affection, reached out. But Silver knew better. He'd lived through sixteen years of her bullshit. Underneath that calm water of pride, he saw a vortex of greed and hunger and contempt.

He could pretend it didn't matter. Accept their gifts. Ignore their condescension. Don't peel off the thin veneer of their compliments. Swallow his disappointment and rage and desperation as if it was cough syrup.

"No," he snarled. "Go fuck yourselves, and never talk to me again."

"Very well. Have it your way." Ariana sighed and waved her hand, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Good luck in the world."

He sat in their empty Viridian estate with only his thoughts and pokemon. Then, on the third day, he accepted that he was all alone in the world.

"I knew we had a cottage somewhere in New Bark," he continued when he realized Lyra wasn't going to say anything. "I figured it was still intact, since it's not directly affiliated with Team Rocket. I settled in. If anyone came for me, I'd cross that bridge when I got to it."

Lyra laughed softly. "I never realized that place belonged to you. You should have heard the stories people made up about it. Also seriously, a 'cottage'? It's one-point-five-times the size of my house, and that's not including your yard."

"It's a lot smaller than my old place."

"I guess." She shifted. "So you thought you'd just live in Johto forever, then?"

"Yeah. It didn't seem that bad. New Bark's kind of quiet, but Goldenrod's fine."

-to uphold the organization that my ancestors so painstakingly constructed-

"It's kind of far. But you know what they say. 'All roads lead to Goldenrod.'"

"Isn't that what they say about Saffron?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, whatever. Goldenrod's the biggest we've got. So huh. That time we went to Cerulean—that was the first time you set foot in Kanto for a long time, then."

A lump settled in his throat. "No."

In truth, he'd been to Kanto many times. Silver fled the New Bark house when his mother showed up, and then he relocated yet again when Looker found him. Of course, there were also the multiple pilgrimages he made to Celadon when Goldenrod didn't have what he needed in stock. But all of these things blurred into each other, and recounting them exhausted him.

He prayed that the League employee would not pay too much attention to his (frankly, shoddy) fake ID or the fact that his eyebrows clashed with his wig. It would be fine, he consoled himself. No one paid too much attention to an old Champion's family.

He'd slept forty hours over the last two weeks. First, crafting the Gym Leader proposal. He only had four somewhat reluctant pokemon. Shadow, his first and only friend, freshly evolved with a Razor Fang he nicked from an unsuspecting vendor. Merle, still giddy from the energy of an illicit Dusk Stone. Nightshade, the haunter he picked up on a trip to Lavender Town. And Ursa, the last gift his father ever gave him.

The problem was that he did not know how to sell his roster. If he did not have Ursa, then he could claim to be a "trainer of the night" or some other inane address. These same pokemon were too similar for him to emphasize versatility.

But a rainbow team was probably his best bet. He picked the biggest, bluest magikarp he could find in the lake by the Pokemon Center and battled it until it mustered that last bit of energy to evolve.

"Oh?"

"InterPol showed up at Viridian a day after I left, apparently. There was no sign of violence, so they pronounced dear old dad missing and put him on some sort of list. Then they told all of Tohjo, 'We're picking a new Gym Leader in one month.'"

Endless hours of cramming followed. His father never spoke about the selection process, but there had to be some test for political sense.

He wondered if there was any benefit in unveiling his identity. His father was the bane of Kanto, and InterPol was desperate for any leads on him. But his grandfather, the former Viridian Gym Leader, was well-respected, and the power of their lineage was well-known. Perhaps that would patch up his weak spots.

No.

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than liberation. Thoughts of Team Rocket, of his grandmother and father and sister and mother and those simpering sycophantic aristocrats, boiled into a stew of sorrow, anger, and disgust.

They made fun of him for being soft-hearted, because he cried at the mention of injecting psyducks with maw-destroying blue dyes and recoiled at the sight of eevees stapled to multiple evolution stones. Too weak to survive, because he refused to walk through the devastation the runaway Rocket pokemon had levied on the Viridian groves. When he hardened in pursuit of their ideals, they called him callous and too short-sighted for greatness.

Anything he could say was thrown to the wind and torn apart to pieces until all he had left was a stomach of hate.

This was all just a joke, he told himself repeatedly. It wasn't as if he actually wanted to become a Gym Leader. It was just so that he could gauge his own strength, though if he did pass the trials, he could really show all of them-

"Oh. How did that go? No one ever talks about what happens during the trials…"

Silver shrugged, stifling his rising emotions. "It went surprisingly well given that I only had five pokemon, and one of them was caught 20 days before the actual trials. I applied as a rainbow team, though half my team was Dark or Ghost, and I was so sure they were going to call me out for it. They didn't."

"You had Shadow, Nightshade, Merle, and Karp back then, right?"

"Yes. I also had an ursaring. My dad gave me a teddiursa, and then she grew up."

A frown. "Where is she now?"

"I-I got really mad, so I sold her."

"Silver-"

"I'm sorry. I really am. But I was young back then, and I was a twat who didn't know better, and-"

Lyra sighed. "Okay."

"Please, Lyra," he begged. "You don't think less of me, do you?"

"No, of course not. You were young and hormonal then, and you know better now."

"Thank you. I swear, I think about it all the time. I tried to look for her a few months ago."

"No leads?"

"No."

"I'll take a look too." She pursed her lips. "If you want. So what happened at the trials?"

The further he progressed, the realer it became. He could see it now: sitting on the perch from which Giovanni corrupted an entire city-state, and undoing each and every one of those damned initiatives. He would eviscerate those visiting trainers, so weak and yet so infuriatingly happy. He would prove to the world and to Team Rocket that he was better than all of them.

His father could claim that he was a Champion. But if he was hiding in disgrace, while Silver sat in the glory of his Viridan birthright, then there was no contest as to who really won.

"I got surprisingly far," Silver said glibly. "Each city's process varies. Viridian, due to their proximity to the forest and the water, disproportionately prioritizes the strength of your pokemon. Getting through the first few rounds depends on your aptitude in battling over all else."

"That makes sense. I've heard the same for, say, Olivine. But then you have places like Vermillion and Violet that care a lot about personal morals and political competence."

"Vermillion? Ha, as if."

"What, you don't like Mattis?"

"No, I didn't say that. He was nice to me. Koga, too. I just don't think someone with 'personal morals' would get that involved with my dad."

"Yeah, I guess. So how did things go?"

He laughed, panic leaving the body. "It went okay. I didn't win, obviously. I was just trying it out for fun. Or, that's what I told myself. Because somewhere along the way-"

And finally, he progressed to the final round. His one last competitor looked innocuous enough, lean and pretty and young.

"Each trainer is allowed six pokemon-"

Yes, same old, same old. Silver thanked his lucky stars that the only people watching were Viridian officials and League employees. Sabrina would suss him out in a second.

"-and now begins," the pudgy referee announced, "the battle between Pokemon Trainer Silver and Pokemon Trainer Blue!"

Finally, Silver came apart at the seams. He unravelled in Lyra's arms, his entire life spilling from his lips.

To her credit, she only left him when he started regaining his composure.

"I'll talk to you later," she smiled. The bags under her eyes hung heavily in the morning light.

He couldn't read her expression. All he could do was nod and imagine a future where she never spoke to him again.

Clair sat pensively, her arms wrapped around her knees. The den was quiet, save for the soft splashing of the waves.

Barely a whisper. "It's better that you failed."

"What?"

"You dodged a bullet," she clarified. "I became the Blackthorn Gym Leader when I was twelve-and-a half."

Yes. The Boy Champion, and his cousin, the Child of Blackthorn.

"I did it," Clair continued, "because my father died in the war, and I missed him. The Dragon Elder convinced me that I would best honor his memory if I took over the gym leader post. I remem-I ran out of the Elite Four rooms when I heard he was dying. I thought maybe I could catch him if I was fast enough. I was in the middle of my third battle, and as much as it pains me to admit it, I knew that was as far as I would ever get. I could defeat each Elite Four member on their own, but not one after the other like that…"

Her voice trailed off.

Silver counted to ten before saying anything, because Clair got crabby when she was interrupted. "You could train and go back."

"You can't regain lost momentum that easily."

"Right."

"What was I even doing? My father died by the time I got back home, and he wasn't even there. He was in Unova. I don't know what I expected to do, fly to Unova?"

"Right."

"And the first thing I thought about every morning when I woke up, was that I nearly destroyed all of our plans. Lance and I were supposed to save our clan, and all of Johto, from well, your father's greed. Two shots in the dark, if you will, to end the war. We were put to training as soon as they discovered that our voices could directly touch the hearts of pokemon. I trained twelve hours a day, every day, for five years. And then what did I do at the most crucial moment? I fled when I was so close to victory!"

"Well, it doesn't matter now. Lance won."

"Yes, but you have to understand." Clair's eyes glimmered sharply. "We were closely matched as children. They actually thought I was the stronger one. I had no reason to believe that Lance would become Champion, if I was struggling already by the third battle. He went in right before me, and I was so sure he'd dropped out already. None of the Elite Four members would say. If he did lose—and he won by a hair—then it would be my fault for running out."

A sardonic laugh. "Lance and I. You want to know the difference between us? I peaked when I was twelve! He didn't!"

Silver did not know how to respond. He wanted to put out her pain, but there was nothing he could say that would bring Clair relief. All he could do was stare at her earnestly, entranced by the bitter notes of regret in her voice.

She threw her hair back in exasperation. "No one said anything when I got home. But I knew it was a matter of time before someone lost it at me. And yes, the Dragon Elder confronted me a week after I got home. I'd do my father and my family proud, he said, if I became the next gym leader. And if I succeeded, which he believed I could, then I would become the youngest gym leader in the last 176 years. Me fleeing Indigo? He never brought it up. But it was the phanpy in the room! What he was saying was that if I could pass the Gym Leader Trials, all would be forgiven."

"I'm sure your grandfather was just looking out for you."

"Oh, right." She picked at her fingers in mock preoccupation. "He's not really my grandfather. He's my great-grandfather. We call him 'Grandfather' since my actual grandfather, his son, died when I was three. He got mauled by a snorlax. It's a long story."

"Right. I'm sorry about that."

"I never knew him."

Silver nodded.

"I passed the trials. The youngest gym leader in Tohjo, in nearly two centuries. There was no question about it. My opponents were twice or thrice my age. I trounced them all the same! You could smell their inferiority from a mile away. But you know—you always work so hard to sit on that throne, and then you don't know what to do afterwards."

The blue of her eyes shifted with the light. In sunlight, they were the bright, limpid azure of the sky. When she was angry, they glowed like the heart of a fire. In her rare moments of genuine happiness, they glittered like sapphires. Now, they were the same murky gray-blue of the water around them.

"I wasted away my childhood in pursuit of the Champion's throne, and then I wasted away my adolescence trying to mold myself into the ideal gym leader. I...I wasn't ready. The purpose of my life up until that point was to win. If I became the Champion, I would be the strongest in the region—maybe the world—and all my problems would vanish. Political savviness, making friends, staying cool when people trashtalk the Draconids knowing very well that your mother is one of them, how to cope when the world threatens to crash around you...There were a million moments when those things would have saved me. But all they ever taught me was to get stronger!"

"I didn't have many friends either," Silver said quietly.

"I'm sure someone wanted to suck up to the Champion's son."

"Sure." He scowled. "But those people will also sell your soul for two oran berries."

Clair let out a reluctant chuckle. "Yes, yes, they will."

"I used to be a really sensitive child. Can you imagine?" Silver snorted.

"Eh, I can see it. So what happened?"

"The weak don't survive very long in the Rocketsphere. I'm not too familiar with Blackthorn, but it's every man for himself in Viridian. Show genuine affection, congratulations, you've just given someone blackmail material."

"Blackthorn too is full of snakes." Clair sighed. "And yet they dare wax lyrical about the forthright chivalry of dragons. I hated myself for so many years. When I was sixteen—maybe you remember this, because they aired this literally everywhere—they framed me for-"

And she steadied herself, forcing deeper breaths into her lungs.

"That's for another night. I regress ten years whenever I think on it for too long. I...I could have eviscerated them all with just one little Hyper Beam. And yet, I was powerless to act as I truly wished, while they ran circles around me."

"Yes, that's how it always is."

"Anyways, the moral of the story is that becoming gym leader at such a young age isn't really worth it. Unless you want it that badly, which you didn't."

His arms were frozen by his side, his tongue stuck in his mouth.

"I understand," he heard his voice saying. "I'm so sorry."

She stared at him. "You didn't do anything."

"I-I know we come from different regions," he started, "but your words—I can feel your pain."

She nodded distractedly.

Silver mentally gave himself a pat on the back. Clair was infamously ornery. To get her to divulge this much about herself was a feat of its own.

"So are you looking forward to Lance's return?" he asked when the silence grew stifling. He internally kicked himself as soon the words left his mouth. Clair had to have heard the Blackthorn gossip about replacing her with Lance. He hoped he wasn't unintentionally implying her demotion.

"Yes, of course. Lance is dear to me, and I missed him sorely."

"You guys are close, then?"

"Of course!" The sides of her mouth curved up slowly. "He was my only lifeline during those long and terrible childhood years. There is no other person on this planet who understands me the same way he does, and vice versa. You weren't close with your sister?"

"No, not really. I haven't seen her in over six years." He frowned. "Fine, we were really close for a year after we moved back to Viridian. She used to brag to all of her friends about me. And..."

"And?"

"She officially got her trainer's license and started training with our dad. A switch flipped in her brain. She started ignoring me and got real nasty."

"I'm sorry to hear about that."

"I'm surprised you and Lance didn't drift after he became Champion."

"We did, but it was nothing severe. I had a few mental breakdowns, he got a girlfriend, and we both got busy. Of course, when we got back together it was like nothing changed."

"'Got back together'?"

And then she was surprisingly hostile again. "Don't worry about it."

"Sorry."

Perhaps he'd worn out his welcome and should head out. They'd been there for hours. But he couldn't help but sit and soak in the comforting darkness. He'd always loved the night, the adventure and mystery it promised, and the buzz of activity that rippled under a skin of silence. Grandmama was the same way. It was in their blood and genes, she told him.

No, wait. There was one thing he wanted to ask about while Clair was still in a somewhat receptive mood. "What will Lance do when he gets back?"

"I will go on a sabbatical," she declared, "and he will take over the gym."

Well, that was unexpected.

"Only temporarily."

"Right."

"I'm sick of this place, and I've learned everything I can from it," Clair explained. "If I had it my way, I would have gone on another journey after challenging the Elite Four. You learn by exposure. Dragon-type pokemon are so rare, and yet they're found in every region. Isn't that so cool?" Her voice teemed with excitement. "Every culture learned to live alongside dragons, but in different ways, since their dragons and surroundings are so distinct. I could learn so much in Unova. I'd be so honored to speak to Zekrom or Reshiram."

"But to be honest," she sighed, "I'd probably go to Sinnoh. My Galarian is terrible. I can read it, but I just can't...speak it all. I have no idea how some people are fluent in so many languages!"

"What about Hoenn? The Draconids have some good lore. And your mom's from there."

"That's an option. The Sinnoh tamers are so isolated, after all. But honestly, I'd rather not. My mom is related to the Lorekeepers actually, and she didn't exactly leave on the best terms. It would be awkward for me. Can you imagine? They'll make tons of personal comments whenever I don't do things 'their way'."

She looked up at the ceiling, as if she were imagining the stars atop Mt. Coronet.

"The hard part," she frowned, "is convincing Lance to take over, even if only for six months."

"Really? I thought he'd enjoy being a gym leader, since he likes battling so much."

"Yes. But you must understand, Grandfather was exceedingly...constraining—let's just say that—to us when we were younger." A wistful smile. "He was raised in a different era. He doesn't show affection the same way we do. He thinks you'll ruin a child with praise. We argued all the time when I was younger. Like when I changed my name, for instance."

"You what?"

"You sound surprised for someone named Silver."

"I-Right, people change their names all the time. No one names their kid Red or Blue, obviously. Or Silver. But 'Clair' is such a normal name."

"It's better than 'Clarity'."

"Your name was Clarity?"

"It's better than 'Chrysanthemum'."

"What?"

"That was my mother's first choice. In her tribe, the girls are named after flowers, and the boys after celestial objects. Mom just happens to be extra terrible at names."

"That's...isn't Clair a nickname for Clarity? If I had to submit all that paperwork, it would have to be a big change."

"Well, that's why I chose 'Clair'. Most people knew me by it, and it was my battling name. Getting used to, I don't know, Crystal, would be more trouble than it's worth." She shrugged lightly. "Lance used to be 'Lancelot', you know."

"I can't see him as a 'Lancelot'."

"Neither can we." She glanced at him pensively. "Say, what's your real name?"

Silver scowled. "Not telling."

"Come on. I told you mine."

"It's a lot more drastic than yours or Lance's."

"I'm not going to judge you, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's personal. Maybe one day, after I get around to finalizing the paperwork."

"For?"

"For getting it changed."

Clair really wasn't that imposing, Silver thought as he gauged her expressions. In his mind, she was a giantess, perhaps because she was loud, and her most famous relative was infamously tall. Her ponytail and her heeled boots added at least a good few 18 centimeters to her height. But the top of her head barely skirted his nose when she stood flat on the ground.

"Anyways," Clair said, "I've learned to work with the Dragon Elder. Lance hasn't. He's not going to have a good time."

"Yeah, going from Champion to grandson isn't easy."

Clair suddenly sat up, as if she remembered something. "You never told me exactly why you came to train here."

He readjusted his legs. "I wanted a new identity, I guess. 'Dragon Master Silver' sounds a hell-of-a-lot better than 'Giovanni's son'. And I mean, as much as I hated being a part of Team Rocket, it was still a substantial part of my life."

"I see. And how does Lyra fit into this?"

"Isn't it obvious? I thought she might just lose me once she got too busy with Champion stuff. I needed to go somewhere she was connected to, and I was not returning to New Bark again. There's nothing to do there unless you go to NBU."

"And she'd always be tied to the Den," pondered Clair, "because she's one of three living people alive passed the Dragon Elder's test, and half her current team consists of dragons."

"Yes. And she's friends with Lance."

"Have you considered dating her?"

"What?"

The answer was "Yes". Ten times, a hundred times, a thousand times yes.

He didn't know when she morphed from "rival" to "friend, I guess" to "girl he wanted to date". He'd definitely grown uncharacteristically fond of her after their encounter in the Ice Caves. If not for his frantic need to leave ASAP in case anyone lingered around the old Mahogany base, he would have spent some more time with her.

It wasn't as if his family provided any good romantic examples.

"Your parents were always pals," his grandmother responded when asked. "Your mom's father was one of my oldest friends, so it was only natural our kids play together."

"Oh," he remarked excitedly, "so they were childhood friends. And they fell in love!"

"No," Madame Boss laughed. "I don't think your daddy ever fell in love, except perhaps for that one girl he always hung around at Pallet University." At his distraught expression, "I didn't say your parents hated each other! They're still very chummy, obviously. You don't make marriage pacts with just anybody."

"A what?"

"When your father was twelve, he and your mother agreed that if they were thirty and single, they would get married. And here," she stroked his hair affectionately, "you are."

And eventually, somehow, that goodwill and camaraderie gave way to hostile looks and clipped conversations.

But Silver saw other couples, in movies and books and society. They all seemed so terribly complete, didn't they?

He'd never had a girlfriend before, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to spend the rest of his life married with two children and twenty pokemon. Maybe the respect and adoration he currently felt for Lyra would slowly peter away. Yet, in the bottom of his heart, he knew that unloving her would take the end of the world.

Existing with her was just so easy. If he asked her to wait for him at a certain spot, she did. If that certain spot wasn't suitable, she told him so, and they found a different place. If he asked her how a battle went, or how hard a gym challenge was, she laughed, rolled her eyes, and told him what happened without embellishing or withholding information. If he told her that he appreciated her company, she got all solemn and replied yes, she appreciated him too. They'd be talking about this-or-that an Azalean cafe or the Burned Tower, and then he would suddenly fill with euphoria.

Her tilted smile, the sparkle in her eyes, the mischievous bend of her legs. She alone could turn the rusty faucet of his emotions.

"I think you should," Clair was saying. "Lance says she talks about you a lot."

"Well, she's a good friend of mine. But honestly? I don't think there's anything indicating that I should."

"Is it that you don't like her, or that you're afraid she doesn't like you?"

Definitely the latter.

"A bit of both, I guess?"

She scoffed. "Silver, out with it. I wasn't born yesterday."

"Couldn't fool ya, I guess." He sighed. "I do like her. I just don't really know if she likes me. I'm not going to confess to her if she stops talking to me afterwards."

"It's so obvious that you like her."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, you don't hang out too much with the other trainers. They think you have a giant crush on her, because you only talk when people bring her up."

"She's one of my best friends!"

"And you ran out of a pokemon battle when she came to visit, all while blushing like a tamato."

"I was just...honored," he said quickly, "that she brought me lunch and remembered I hate sesame seeds on my onigiri."

Clair gave him a look of doubt. "What, are you going to deny your feelings for the rest of your life?"

That sounded like a good idea.

"She might like you too, you know. She talks about you fondly."

He sighed. "Maybe. I'm not taking that chance."

"She pouted until you agreed to go to Cianwood for double battle training."

"Well, we really need that training."

"She literally hugged you when she left!"

"I-I guess. But you know the way Lyra is. She's a hugging kind of person. It might not mean anything serious."

"Well, she certainly doesn't hug everyone she meets." Clair shook her head in exasperation. "Look, sometimes people do things because they want to. I highly doubt she's trying to 'trick' you by showing you bits of physical affection."

"You don't understand," he replied hotly. "The things that happened in the Radio Tower—they could have changed her impression of me. I...really screwed up."

Clair raised a carefully coiffed eyebrow. Silver cursed himself for uttering those words into existence, because now all he could think about was Rocket grunts and fire and the damning rip of fabric.

"I didn't intend to be there," he explained, "but I saw a bunch of Rocket grunts chatting in Ecruteak so I followed them-"

The Dragon's Den wasn't the first time Lyra hugged him. That had to be when they walked out of the Radio Tower. Regrettably, Lyra's dad descended upon them as soon as they exited the premises. He'd been anxiously twiddling his thumbs since he arrived from Saffron a mere twenty minutes before the shutdown.

On their walk down, Lyra and Ethan had been chatting nonstop in dulled tones. Lance received an urgent call and flew out the window before Silver could talk to him. Morty, who'd been summoned along with the other West Johto gym leaders, droned on and on about how he was asleep when Whitney called.

"I was going to hitch a ride with Falkner, but he left after I woke up. I don't really fly. The only Flying pokemon I have is my drifblim, and I am...never getting on her again." The blond gym leader yawned. "The gates were locked, so I ended up teleporting four inches to get in. Now I have a headache. My telekinesis is atrociously weak."

You're giving me a headache, Silver wanted to reply.

Instead, he nodded and hoped he looked exhausted enough to justify his silence. He kept an ear out for Ethan and Lyra's conversation. He wanted to engage, but they were talking about New Bark affairs, and he couldn't think of anything insightful to say. His mind ran on overdrive, replaying all that happened in the last few hours.

Though he wanted nothing to do with the takeover, he was curious about Lance's presence. And what if, by some stroke of luck, his father returned? Silver snuck into the Radio Tower without any fanfare, cloaking himself in the shadows. Whenever a flock of grunts passed by, he would simply slip away and ignore the familiar faces. Then one of those faces looked too familiar.

His heart fell three octaves when he saw Lyra clad in the Rocket uniform.

His mind was frozen. His arms and legs moved on behalf of some invisible god.

You fool—don't touch her—

It couldn't possibly be her. She thought them pathetic. But why did her eyes sparkle so when she looked at him, then?

His fingers worked of their own accord, tearing at the R-stained shirt as if it were only ugly wrapping paper masking the real Lyra. She yelped, but he didn't register it. What did they do to convince her?

The pack of Rocket grunts noticed her distinctive Key Stone and descended upon her.

Silver moved to save her. And then—

"Hey, that hair looks familiar. Have we met before-"

"I have to defeat the Dragon Tamer," he replied, instinctively grappling for an excuse. "What's his name, Lance? Yes, I must go! And after that...it will be your turn!"

Lurking behind a fridge, Silver cursed himself. Lyra could take care of herself in battle, but he didn't know how she would hold up if she got into an ambush without her pokemon. Many of the Rocket grunts were absolute lowlife, infamously cruel and vulgar. He shuddered to remember how they'd talked about Janine and all the things they wanted to do to her.

He was such a fool for interfering. Giovanni's son was well-known for his red hair. That, combined with the number of brown-nosers among the Rocket ranks, indicated that he would still be recognized even three years later. This was a lose-lose situation. Get involved; out himself. Run away, and risk Lyra's wellbeing.

"The Ho-Oh stuff is going well," Morty droned on. "I honestly don't think I'll be the one to bring him back, but I'd like to be involved anyways. I have some thoughts about-"

To his relief, she seemed well and intact when he saw her again at the top floor. She would curbstomp Archer, he was sure, but he prepared to support her.

It never came to pass. Archer lost, 6-0.

"How could this be?" He muttered wistfully as he recalled his last fallen mon. "Our dreams have come to naught. I was not up to the task after all."

"Of course you weren't, you fucking numbskull," Silver said under his breath. Archer looked up at him, his eyes filled with hope.

"I will disband Team Rocket here today, unless you will join me-"

Lyra's head swiveled towards him. Her face was still unblemished. That was good. What was not good was her indescribable expression. Confusion, scorn, shock, curiosity.

"No! I will not affiliate myself with the mess that is Team Rocket."

Archer paced slowly, his teal eyebrows crinkled in thought. "Why, then, are you here? You knew very well what was going on when you saw the grunts. You too congregated here with the intention of meeting your father."

"I am here to look for the Dragon Tamer Lance," he said hurriedly, "so that I may battle and defeat him!"

Silver had always been an atrocious liar at heart. If only he'd toughened up more before he entered the Tower, his denial could have been stronger. He could have made some sniping comment about Archer's obsequious nature, or his weak team, or his plethora of vices. Instead, he froze up, and Archer caught the slide show of emotions that crossed his face in those valuable seconds.

The executive laughed callously. "You're so transparent. I know we look disorganized. Team Rocket's in shambles right now. Your father was the one force that could unify us. But you—you can easily salvage this." A dreamy sigh. "Can't you imagine it? With the right kinds of training, you could easily be the next Don Vittore and usher in the next Age of Rocket..."

Silver stared at Archer in disbelief. Lyra eyed the two of them.

"You are delusional," the boy eventually said. "Team Rocket is done."

He meant it. He could write a dissertation on why their practices were unsustainable without a strong leader and half of Kanto turning a blind eye. And yet, some part of him, though he did not know how significant, dreamt treacherously of building an empire. Long-repressed feelings and memories swirled in his head. That sort of influence would render him immune to the dangers of the world...

He wished he never came to the Radio Tower, so that she did not have to see him like this.

And then suddenly Lyra was bouncing in front of him. "I need to go," she said hurriedly. "My dad's here. But hey, uh—let's catch up sometime else. I'll be in Mahogany in a few days. Ice Caves next Tuesday, 7 AM?"

She wrapped her arms around him lightly and patted him on the back. He could only give her a feeble thumbs up and stare after her, dazed.

The Radio Tower lit up in flames ten minutes later. The last hurrah of some vengeful Rocket grunts, possibly.

"A modern retelling of the Bell Tower," the Ecruteak gym leader mused. "Who would this tower's patron saint be?"

Even as rows of poliwags lined up nearby, Silver could think only of Lyra. Why, why, did he not take the time to clarify his presence at the Tower before she left? A hug was promising—he knew it was a move of affection—but if Lyra still liked him, wouldn't she have approached him on the way out instead of chattering incessantly with Ethan?

Lyra was a flippant girl. That was part of her charm. Smart, animated, passionate, outgoing but sort of strange, and capable of shrugging off anything. She was a sort of stable he desperately needed. But she thought nothing of acting more affectionate than she actually felt. A double-edged sword, really.

She was certainly capable of showing him friendship while distrusting him. They did talk often, but he feared that any bout of silence could become permanent. That two month silence between the Ice Caves and their battle at Victory Road still weighed on his soul. Maybe Lyra decided he was fundamentally unlovable, and that while she found him fun sometimes, she didn't care all that much for him.

"Heh, I always give the devil his due," she'd told him ages ago at The Azalea Bush, a cafe near the well. "Giovanni? The gym leaders that were supposedly involved with him? They're all accomplished people. Gringey City continues to be a trainwreck, but I'd argue that people like Koga were a net positive for the region."

"The Safari Zone was a front for pokemon smuggling."

"Well, I don't know about that. I wasn't just referring to the Safari Zone, anyways." She ate a spoonful of ice cream. "But man, if you're that good, why the hell would you get involved with Team Rocket? They radiate loser energy. Like what's his face, Proto?"

"Proton."

"Yeah, whatever. Birds of a feather flock together, as they say. Associating with Team Rocket's bound to corrupt anyone. A great way to rot your brains."

"What do you know about the Rockets, anyways?"

"Not much. But my point is, if you're going to break a million laws, you should at least do it with somebody worth their salt. A slowpoke farm isn't that hard to set up. Their tails grow back within a month, less if you give them enough psychic energy. I," she added, "also don't trust anyone whose pokemon hate them."

"Yes. They're certainly not 'worth their salt'."

"This ice cream float is, though." She slid the bowl towards him. "Want some? I swear, I don't have any saliva-borne diseases."

The Blackthorn gym leader put her hand to her forehead and shook her head in exasperation. "You are an idiot. Seriously, using Lance as an alibi? No wonder. I thought it sounded so weird when he told me about your behavior at the Tower. Look, I don't really tell people about this, and you better not tell anyone about it either. But I'm tired of this hoopla. You've never had a girlfriend, have you?"

"Hey," Silver protested, "my dad tried to introduce me to potential wives."

"Ew."

"Yeah, my reaction too. Didn't get along with any of them. "What's your point, anyways? It's hard to date people when you're always cooped up at home or on the run. Or training, for that matter."

"My point," Clair said slowly, "is that you need to stop fixating on the Rocket stuff and take a chance. You would know this if you ever dated anyone."

"See! That's easy for you to say. Look, I'm stuck in a limbo where we're close, but I know she looks down on Team Rocket. Even if she likes me as a person, she-"

"Are you in Team Rocket?"

"No."

"Do you condone the things they've done?"

"No."

"Then you should stop worrying about it."

"I-I-" He took a deep breath. "The evil lies in my blood. I can try my goddamn best to love my pokemon or be nice to people or whatever. I can't change my ancestry!"

"What's with you and your obsession with darkness? This isn't the first time you've brought it up. Seriously, it doesn't define you! You don't have to do wha-"

"It's not about my parents! I-It's in my DNA."

Clair looked at him disgustedly. "You're being melodramatic."

"No, I'm not. I-Ugh. Conversation for a different day."

"Okay." She sighed. "Anyways, speaking of family, I fell in love with Lance a while back."

He stared at her in abject confusion.

"I obviously didn't intend for it to happen," the gym leader continued. "Our clan does not look kindly upon incest. Yes, it happened in the past. No, we do not aspire to it. But when you tell two kids they have to become Champions or they'll be failures, they're bound to get close with each other. Especially if they go on a pokemon journey together."

"But," and he continued to stare at her in abject confusion, "people who grow up together don't fall in love like that! Right? Like I've never thought of my sister like that, and I...never want to. Ew."

"We didn't totally grow up together. I lived in Hoenn until I was three. I was born in Johto of course," Clair hastily added, "but my dad moved to Hoenn immediately afterwards to study Mega Evolution. Lance and I didn't meet until we were toddlers."

Silver wasn't sure that made things much better.

"I felt the same way about him that you do with Lyra. When we were both training for the Champion's throne, we were in it together. We just had to make sure one of us got there, after all. But how was I supposed to stay home while Lance traveled the world and swam in adoration? It really fell apart after that one Alder programme. All anyone could talk about afterwards was how strong and dashing Lance was."

"Was that the one where Lance trounced him 5-0?"

"Yes, that battle. I must have watched it a hundred times, looking for mistakes so that I could argue Lance wasn't all that great, and that I was just as good. And that was back when we were evenly matched." Clair sighed as she examined her nails. "When I was fourteen or so, I started slipping. I used to be able to battle ten trainers in a row, 6-0, without breaking a sweat. And then something inside me broke."

Her eyes glazed as she stared across the lake. "Suicune stopped visiting around that time, too. It first came to when I was eleven. Tohjo Falls, surfing the waterfall, when I lost my footing and slid."

"Ouch. That hurts."

"It wasn't that bad of a fall. When I finally landed, the Aurora Pokemon stood in front of me. Suicune would appear to me intermittently throughout the years. I held onto hope, that even as I was rolling away into obscurity, there was some divine force that watched over me. And then of course, that too abandoned me."

He noted, as he gave her a comforting pat, that Clair possessed a delicacy that the other dragon tamers lacked. From her Hoennese mother, perhaps. She wasn't too tall. For all the muscle she built, her toned limbs remained slender and feminine. Instead of the strong hooked nose both Lance and the Dragon Elder possessed, hers turned upwards charmingly in the refined slopes of her face. Even her hair, her most distinctive trait, grew in a soft, baby blue hue.

And in the heat of the moment, as their emotions melted together, he toyed with the idea of courting her. She wasn't bad company, and Silver could never deny her beauty.

"I'm sorry," he said.

The left side of her mouth rose up briefly. "I started lashing out at Lance sometime around then. He struggled a lot in his first years as Champion. Anyone would have in his position. He tried to talk to me about it. I listened initially. And then I became convinced that he was just rubbing it in. 'Maybe you shouldn't be Champion,' I screamed at him, and so many other things I don't care to repeat. I challenged him with every pokemon I had. I lost. I still don't know why I said, did, thought all of that."

"I understand. People say things when they're upset. I've certainly said my fair share of terrible things."

Silver certainly did in the past. He remembered his vitriol when Jasmine closed down the Olivine Gym for Amphy's sake, and how he'd lashed out at Ethan after losing their skirmish on the beach.

Clair laughed in spite of herself. "Yes, I know. Like you, I was a sensitive child. But see, here in the den-" She paused to ponder her words. "-to give way to feelings was dangerous. Training powerful creatures like dragons requires power and control. Ruling over two regions requires power and control. It was our job, as scions of the Den, to present a strong image to the world. To indulge in tears, or bouts of compassion, was a betrayal of our clan's goals. A sort of -"

He knew this well. "-weakness."

"Yes. You learn to mask your sadness with anger, and to hide your happiness in case it jinxed your good luck. Dragons were heroic, they taught us, nothing like fairies or psychics who existed to connive and screw you over. And yet, we could never show overt attachment to anyone or anything, in case they betrayed you. I only had one other friend" A soft sigh. "If not for our pokemon, Lance and I would have gone mad. Twin conquerors, ready to annihilate the region."

Lance donned a suit of chivalric bravado and only expressed small doses of joy. For all his charisma, few could break through the invisible wall around him. Clair cycled between anger, annoyance, smugness, and concern. Though she was surprisingly helpful to her trainers, there was a permanent steeliness in her posture.

"My parents always said I was soft-hearted," Silver said in the silence. "I don't know. I mean, I've always been emotional."

His early childhood was a blur. A time when his father looked at his team with fondness, when pokemon were friends instead of products or reluctant partners in the eternal quest of survival, but he could barely remember it.

"You said things worsened after you returned back to Viridian?"

"Yeah. See, in Indigo, they just let me do whatever. I had Shadow, obviously, and I played with the neighboring kids. I used to cry so much; can you imagine? I don't think there were any good reasons. Just sometimes, life happens, and you feel things, and you just want to scream at the world. Of course, in Viridian, I was no longer 'the Champion's pipsqueak'. I was now one of the successors to Team Rocket, and I had to behave accordingly."

He took a deep breath. "I fucking hate them all! You could never just...care about something. Once when I-Your friends were never your real friends. If you're happy to see someone, then you clearly wan-had creepy intentions. And then when you break from your friend group to spend more time for your pokemon, then-then-it was-" He inhaled. "People were just kidding, and you were an oversensitive twat for overreacting even though you were literally-ugh! "

"Deep breaths, Silver. It's over now."

Silver breathed until he was calm again. "Sorry. I try not to think about that. I asked my father, once, how he survived amongst all these people. 'They pick on people they know they can beat,' he told me, 'but become powerful and you will prevail. No one bothers me, because I am the best trainer in the world.' And so I lived my life in pursuit of this elusive strength, so that I may always be safe and happy. But as you know, there are many other things that matter..."

"I'm sorry." She froze. "I'm not really good at comforting. But at least you are liberated from those people, and you are undoubtedly doing better than them."

"I have to! Heh, when I was still gunning for the Champion's throne, I always thought to myself, 'Imagine how bad they'll feel when they watch your inauguration on TV'..."

"Yes, of course."

A kingdra's snout poked out of the water.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to talk to Charybdis."

Clair sat with her kingdra for a bit. Just as Silver considered going home, she returned.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Not much. She wasn't feeling well and didn't know if she was up for battling tomorrow. She also reminded me that some of the dratini are nearing evolution. Oh, speaking of which, did I ever tell you about how Charybdis' evolution?"

"No? I know you discovered how seadra evolve, but not much more than that."

Before the proliferation of trading devices, pokemon like conkeldurr and slowking were virtually mythical. That final evolution was often compared to self-actualization in humans. Those documented cases—Sabrina's alakazam, or Agatha's gengar—suggested it was reserved for only the most stellar specimens. Others, dismayed by the lack of observed evolutions, believed these final stage pokemon to be single-stage titans, with golem kings or machamp pack leaders being the result of some strangely specific form of coevolution.

Kingdra were no exception. Decades ago, the only way to obtain one was to venture into the abyssal caves. Juan and Drake of Sootopolis each inspired a slew of whirlpools when they met their seahorse partners. Only recently, during Clair's last badge challenge, was the evolution of a seadra recorded. Everyone assumed it was a stroke of luck, until Clair pointed out the distinct dragon scales Charybdis had even as a horsea.

Everything changed with the invention of the link cable and its strange, transformative energy. Evolution was no longer reserved for the creme de la creme, even if those produced by trading machines were weaker than those that happened naturally. But it did not matter. The power boost of evolution was still substantial. Silver evolved his kadabra and haunter through as soon as he found a trading partner. Both Morty of Ecruteak and Phoebe of Mossdeep acquired their gengars from link cables.

"Everyone assumes I had guidance from the Den. But truthfully," and she inhaled, "the Den only hindered me. When I was four and Lance was five, we were given our first pokemon. He got a magikarp, because the elders thought he was too impatient."

"Wasn't his first pokemon a dratini?"

"His starter was a dratini. They're not the kind of pokemon you give to young children. Anyways, as for me, our grandfather—the dead one—had an ampharos as a partner. I was supposed to get one of his mareep. Then I met a horsea while swimming in a lake. It was love at first sight. We were inseparable. In spite of the Dragon Elder's disapproval, she became my first pokemon, and later starter."

"But she seems like a powerful starter."

"He wanted me to honor his son, I think."

"Right."

Clair nodded. "Horsea and seadra have ridiculously short lifespans. Five to seven years in the wild, and eight to ten in captivity. Kingdra live much, much longer, but based off their rarity in nature, it's clear that most seadra die before they can evolve. When I was little, I didn't really care. Eight years seemed far off. And then, in the blink of an eye, six years passed, and Charybdis was still only a seadra…

"I begged everyone in the den for help." She clenched her fist. "I was so sure that there had to be someone who evolved their seadra, or secretively saw one evolve in the wild. And if there wasn't, they could piece it together with me. But it was all my fault, apparently. If I wanted a kingdra so bad, I should have waited until I was older and caught one in the Hoenn caves. Didn't I realize that there was a reason why no decent Dragon Master started with a horsea? They advised me to stop battling so much with Charybdis and let her live out the rest of her life in the Den. I'd already wasted so much time, and I should focus on the rest of my pokemon, the ones that weren't going to die within a year."

"That's rough. I feel angry for you."

"Yes. It doesn't really matter now."

The resentful glare she gave to the walls indicated otherwise.

"You know what I hate the most?" Silver asked.

"What?"

"You can't escape any of," he waved his hand, "this. I don't know. It turns out that if they're cruel to you for long enough, you stop fighting even when you know you're right. And if you play along, you start believing the terrible things you say even if you were just trying to fit in. Same goes for anger tantrums, or being mean to your pokemon, or framing the world a power hierarchy. And now I'm stuck in between. After all this time, it's so hard being..."

"Vulnerable. I know. Hey, I don't actually believe I'm capable of being the world's greatest dragon master." Her voice was flat even as her mouth twisted upwards. "But if you don't force your strength on people, then…Well, old habits die hard."

"You can still become the greatest," he tried to console her. "You're what, twenty-five? That's still young!"

"No." She smiled bitterly. "The spring of my youth has come and gone. You—you still have a future ahead of you."

And he was already nineteen years and twenty-one days old. One-hundred-fifty days younger than Lyra, and already lightyears behind.

Silver wondered where Shadow went. His weavile tended to go on long hunting expeditions at night, but not this long. At any rate, Silver wasn't worried. If someone tried to steal him, they could learn how it felt to be ripped in half.

"Mom says it wasn't always this bad here," Clair finally said. "It only got this bad after the Dragon Elder's son died. And if you talk to Lance's mother—she's obviously not perfect, but she doesn't have the same problems Lance and I did."

"Right." A pause. "And so what ended up happening to you and Lance after all of that?"

She did not respond right away. She sat, her chin on her knees, frozen. Only the brimming emotion in her eyes indicated that she had heard him. Silver imagined an adolescent Clair, small and lonely and yet terrifyingly ambitious, sitting in the same spot eons ago.

"We didn't talk that much for a few years," she murmured, her voice fading into the water. "Until I was sixteen. I felt so terrible after blowing up on him, but I couldn't just apologize, could I? I couldn't fawn over him like everyone else. I couldn't let him take me for granted.

"But he was going through so, so, so much, and I wasn't there for him," she exclaimed in anguish. "I only snapped out of my senses when he flew to my room in the middle of the night during a primordial downpour. Indigo was a hellhole, and there was no one he trusted there. Lance told me he had to talk to somebody, and yeah, we hadn't had any real conversations in a while, but our golden days together meant something, didn't they?

"I thought it would be awkward, and it was at first. But then Lance spilled his guts to me, and it felt like old times again. I was so elated. I couldn't myself. Before he fell asleep, I kissed him. A goodbye kiss, the kind you leave someone before they leave you forever. Not entirely chaste, but enough that you could pretend ignorance if confronted…"

Lance and Clair reminded him of a courtship dance in their last double battle together. He and Lyra had both been built for solo battling. Lyra's azumarill knew Helping Hand, and Lyra herself once binge-watched all of Tate and Liza's battles, so she knew a bit of double battling and could advise him on which pokemon to choose. But Silver—he believed that moves which did not damage were useless. Where he and Lyra grew increasingly frustrated with each other, the Blackthorn cousins fed off each other's energy.

"-and Lance shook himself awake. 'What are you doing,' he said.

"'Remember how you used to run to me whenever there was a thunderstorm?' I asked. 'You pretended to be consoling me, even though you were the scared one. And then the adults forced us apart, because we were too old for such antics.' I held his hand, trying to gauge his reluctance. His fingers and palm were so massive now, I realized, and I feared that the castles we built in the sky so many years ago were too damaged to reclaim.

"'Aren't we too old now?' he asked me. 'No,' I told him, 'because I loved you then, and I love you now! I was an idiot for abandoning you when you needed me so much, but I will follow you to the ends of the earth.'"

Would he follow Lyra to the ends of the earth? He knew the answer in his heart. The people of Tohjo existed in faded grayscale, and reaching out to them only sucked the vibrance out of him. She was the brightest, the only real spark of color among them.

"And I realized," Clair continued, "in that moment, that I...I would never love someone so much. There was nothing, absolutely nothing in the world, that could match those eleven years of shared misery.

"'And he turned to me. His eyes...I never knew brown eyes could be so beautiful and extraordinary! His hand closed around mine. Even as he kissed my fingertips, he protested. 'I love you too,' he claimed, 'and all these years later, you are still the only one who truly understands me. But this is inappropriate,' he said, 'and it will lead to our ruin. Imagine if Grandfather found out.' I told him I didn't care, that if I hadn't lost the ability to cry years ago, I would have sobbed my heart at the thought of him rebuffing me. And then, of course, he started dating Jasmine four months later."

"What?"

"I know. I relapsed, and I told myself I was wrong to ever trust anyone like that. Love like that was a waste of time, I thought, a petty distraction. From then on, I swore, I would dedicate myself to my work. I had to accomplish something that would outshine Jasmine's Crystal Onix. I had to defeat Lance. If I ever lost him, I wouldn't know what to do, and that terrified me. I had to learn how to live without him..."

She turned her fingers over and over, examining her rings. "Of course, I gave him a second chance when he returned nineteen months later. But we were both older and wiser."

"And now?"

"Still ongoing."

"So are you going to hide your relationship forever?"

"We'll figure something out after he officially steps down. I have plans. You know, Lance and I have both tried to find other people. We always failed."

"May-What if he's hiding another girlfriend?"

Clair laughed. "He should know better than to do that. I have safeguards against it, anyways."

He looked at her dubiously. Gone was the subdued moodiness. This Clair was still melancholy, but she was also light, awkwardly playful. Silver could feel her regaining control.

"Oh, it's late. I'll make this short and simple, then." She turned to him. "You can't keep pushing away people just in case they'll leave you eventually. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy. Just look at me. When I denied my feelings for Lance, jealousy consumed me. After all, it's easier to accept a friend's successes if you genuinely like them. And the more I tried to show him that I was different from the others, that I was special and didn't want him, the more distant he became. It's a miracle, really, that we patched things up. Lyra...she's busy. She's flighty and a bit callous. She does not always think before she acts. Or speaks, for that matter."

"I really don't mind that," Silver interjected hotly. "She's funny and smart. She also keeps promises."

"Hey, you're the one complaining that she doesn't necessarily like you. I'm just telling you that you're being stupid, and that it's not the end of the world if she doesn't call you first, or if she doesn't call you back in three days when you know she probably got dragged away on some Champion obligation."

"Right. But what if she just decided in the middle of the night I wasn't worth it, and didn't want to 'let me down'?"

"Normal people don't run off like that. They talk to you when they're dissatisfied, and you work it out."

Clair didn't seem to fully believe what she said either. 'Normal people'—they were so foreign, weren't they? It baffled his mind that people could just exist, working and living for love and joy instead of some distant, metaphorical throne.

"Lyra is well, the way she is," Clair continued. "Documenting all of her actions and trying to impose a narrative onto them is...stupid. You won't know if she likes you or not unless you talk to her. You can love somebody and still forget about them from time to time. When Lance ransacked the Rocket base in Mahogany, for instance, he went in without telling me, but I'm not going to take that as a sign that he hates me and moved onto Lyra. Similarly, you shouldn't take Lyra's occasional silence-which is pretty mild, since she literally lights up when she sees you—as a sign she's always thinking about abandoning you."

"I guess." Silver sighed. "I'm just afraid of losing something so...so good, you know? I've never had it better."

"What's the worst that can happen?"

"She hates me, never talks to me, files a restraining order against me, and bans me from Tohjo."

"How about," Clair's voice escalating, "Lyra starts seeing other people, because you're not taking any initiative, and she ends up finding another boy, one less remarkable than you in every sense? Then when you bring up your feelings, she might say, 'Oh, I did like you, but I assumed you hated me and now I'm getting married."

"I don't know who she would marry. But I would hate it."

"Yes, precisely. Look, if you tell her you like her, and she tells you no, you might still be able to recover from that. You can't recover from I don't know, Lyra moving on before you've even dated."

He stared at her, imagining a future where Lyra had her own beautiful, glorious family, and his world remained devoid of color.

"We have a fair amount in common," Clair said. "You, and me, and Lance. Not in terms of potential or personality, but in certain elements of our upbringing. That's why Lance gravitated towards you when he first met you, even though you were less than...kind. He thought that you could do with some new priorities besides the eternal ratrace for power."

You know the meaning of love—

"You and I," her limpid voice running over the words like waves, "appear to possess a deeper understanding. That feeling of loving someone so much, more than you've ever loved anyone else. Someone who taught you to love, and to trust, who showed you that life was more than just power and control."

Learn to trust your pokemon, and your friends, and you will win—

"That sinking feeling of fear," Clair murmured. "Watching them get further and further away from you, doing bigger and better things while you can't help but stay the same. Feeling small, while you watch them cavort with prominent figures you could never hope to measure up to. A toxic concoction of jealousy, desire, and undying admiration, that will corrode your heart if it stays in you for too long…"

He stared at the ripples of water, growing and growing and then bursting upon hitting the rocks. Idly, Silver imagined lurking in his living room, watching Lyra conquer the world and then get married. It was funny, wasn't it? He used to think of Clair as nothing more than a mere figurehead in a ridiculous outfit. Perhaps because his father always demeaned the Indigo League. And now, he was ruminating over her words.

"I can ask Lance to scope out Lyra's feelings, if that makes you feel better. Subtly, of course."

Silver hesitated. Paranoia—what if they destroy you from the inside out?—filled his head.

But some primal part of him instinctively followed Clair.

"Yes. Only subtly," he finally said.

"Sure. I'll let you know. You should really talk to Lyra, in the meantime."

She stood up and yawned. Checking her watch, she remarked, "It's past my bedtime."

"Really?"

"Yes, early to bed, early to rise. Oh." She creased her forehead, as if remembering something. "Back to your very first question: you should think about what kind of job you eventually want. We can touch base about it in a few days. But for the time being—while you're a good trainer, you have a lot to learn. Even if your time in the Dragon's Den proves irrelevant—say, if you end up specializing in Dark pokemon—you will grow through the experience. Hey, I know my childhood experience was terrible, but I promise you that I, the elders, and the other trainers have taken conscious efforts to restructure our Clan."

"I see. Yes, I will stay here."

She gave him a brief thumbs up. "Okay, that's enough for tonight. See you tomorrow."

Silver sat in the den for a bit longer. Only when Shadow returned did he slip back to his living room.

Clair was right on so many counts.

He'd said so many awful things to Lyra in the beginning of their acquaintance. But she did forgive him for each and every one of them.

"Was it really that easy?" he asked.

"No," she laughed. "It's not just your apologies, silly. It's all the kind things you've done for me, Ethan, the Blackthorn pokemon, and well, everyone, in the past few months."

His phone dinged. He picked it up.

so sorry, Lyra texted, fixed a ghost situation in Lavender and just sat through a ton of meetings about redrawing cinnabar boundaries. don't wanna type. call?

And then, i know it's late. it's ok if you're asleep but…..are you rlly?

No, he was not. Silver smiled to himself and told her yes, he wanted to talk to her.

"This shouldn't be too bad, should it?" he asked himself as he waited for Lyra to pick up.

In the Indigo League, a trainer formally became Champion only when they proved themselves capable of holding down the throne for half a year. Flukes happened all the time, after all. Blue, for all of his strength, had been deposed a mere two hours after his victory.

Unless a Red appeared out of the woodwork, there was not a doubt in the world that Lyra would persevere through her six months.

That, of course, was before she returned Ho-Oh to Johto. A god-given sign of her right to lead.

Her inauguration was in two weeks. But for now, she sat with Silver on a picturesque Cianwood beach.

"You excited to become a Champion?"

"Mm. I guess. I feel like the inauguration's just a formality. I've been doing Champion-y things for a while." She smoothed out their towel. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Where else would I be?"

"I don't know. You could be training. Egads, you train so much."

"So do you, Lyra."

She peered at him over her sunglasses and tsked. "Yeah, not as much as you."

Silver tentatively put his head on her shoulder.

"Do you ever wonder," Lyra started nonchalantly as she patted his hair, "what would happen if we never met?"

"Yes, and I hate it."

"I hate it too, thank you. Hmm. What do you think of Ho-Oh? I know people in Kanto don't look up to him."

"Ho-Oh's beautiful. I never understood bird keepers until I met him."

Looking into Ho-Oh's majestic eyes, stroking that glowing plumage...It brought him relief. That little bit of Dark material in him had to be negligible. There was no way Ho-Oh would deign to look at him if he was innately irredeemable.

"Yeah. Bird keepers are always kind of weird, aren't they? Hmm. I wonder if Lugia's out there."

"Probably not. If you couldn't summon Lugia, who could?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I'll look into it some other time. Morty and I are both burned out on this whole 'awaken old Johtan legends' thing. Hmm." A yawn. "Lance is so excited to leave. He's already started packing up."

Silver snorted. Now it was his turn to forfeit a loved one to Indigo. Clair got a good deal at his expense, didn't she?

"Hmm," Lyra mumbled, her eyelids drooping.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Remember when you invited me to your place and we talked? After my Cinnabar stuff."

"Yeah?"

"You never got around to telling me," another yawn, "why you were 'born like that'. Or your real name."

"Right." He put his arms around her. "Instead of bedtime stories, my grandmother told me about our ancestors-"

"That's still technically a bedtime story."

Silver chuckled. "Sure, technically. Most of them were about former Rocket bosses or Viridian leaders. Or both. But the most important one happened eons ago-"

"-she angered the zoroark, and so he resolved to torment her." Grandmama's deep voice rolled through the events of a millennia past. "He designed a series of visions to tempt her. Yet, as he delved deeper and deeper into her mind—and he had to do to find out what scared her—he grew to love her. For her sake, he smashed apart the illusions he'd used to trap her. He took on the shape of her species, and they resolved to marry.

"He could never quite speak like a human. But it didn't matter. He learned to write. Their children were human, like the woman he cherished, but they had his powers. Their eldest son was a world-class illusionist. He could transform himself to anyone or any pokemon that he wanted, and he projected mirages so strong they felt solid. As the generations continued, these powers became weaker and weaker."

"I wish I could make illusions," Silver pouted wistfully.

"So do I." A soft smile. "But there is still a lot you can do. The aura of your many-times-grandfather stays to protect all of his descendants. You are safe from meddling psychics. How do you think your father can stand to be around Sabrina? It was only thanks to our family that Kanto isn't a psychic hellhole. And! If you're attacked one day, you can run through the shadows to anywhere you want."

"So that's how you always fou-caught up with me. You sprinted through the Distortion World and popped out in random shadows."

"Yes."

Sleepy Lyra was so adorable. She always looked so serene. She'd gone to hell and back, and you could never tell. Indigo was never a fun time for anyone, but Silver had faith that she alone would make it out intact.

"I disagree with your grandma though," she rambled. "No offense. But Sabrina never really had conquering Kanto in mind. If you read her—I don't remember what those docs are called—it's clear-really clear that she just wanted to play Sims with Saffron City."

"Grandmama also told me profitability was the most important thing about pokemon."

"Unreliable narrators. Mhm. So you're part..."

He must have stared at her, his eyes awe-filled saucers. She put her manicured finger to her lips.

"I will teach you tomorrow," Grandmama promised. "But you must mum, or I can't trust anymore. These powers are so precious, because they're secrets! You can't tell Mom, or Dad, or Tina. Dad thinks these things are stupid, and he'll make you stop if he found out."

Silver nodded solemnly and mimed zipping his lips.

"Beware the Zoroark," she said before turning off the lights. "They're not like the other pokemon, who can't help but live their lives in barbaric ignorance and misery. They are your ancestors, and they are smarter than any human. Cursed is the man who angers them, for he will live the rest of his life trapped in a cage of illusions."

"Yes," he answered. "A tiny percent of DNA. But it's there."

"Mm. So you can't turn into a zoroark on demand."

"Do you want a zoroark boyfriend?"

"It would be a good party trick."

"I don't go to parties."

Lyra snorted lightly in laughter before slumping into him. He sat up and laid her down on their towel so that she could nap. Her first day off was always rough. She needed to pay her 'sleep debt', as she termed it.

Those who saw Ho-Oh were promised a lifetime of happiness, no?

As he stood up to fix their beach umbrella, Silver couldn't help but grin like a madman.

"Good night, Grandmama."

He could sense her smile in the dark.

"Good night, Aurelio."

"That reminds me of the Unovan cookie," Lyra mumbled.

"It means 'gold' in Holonese."

"Mm. I prefer 'Oreo'," she insisted. "I think it's cute."

"Only when you say it."

"I know."

AN: Thoughts, questions, and concerns are all welcome and appreciated. Let me know if this was too long or a drudge to get through.

Some notes:

-Silver's sister: I wanted a female Italian-ish name meaning 'silver'. Order of thought went: Platina/Argentina → Tina → Valentina (with Tina as a nickname). She's supposed to be Mars in Team Galactic. I'm honestly not fond of "A is related to B because of their hair color/eye color/physical trait" theories since hair colors are all over the place in Pokemon, but this made sense to me for a number of reasons.

It's not uncommon for people to leave one pyramid scheme only to fall into another. MLMs prey on desperation and insecurity; escaping one pyramid scheme doesn't automatically erase any underlying issues. Similarly, if Mars was raised by a bunch of people who try to control gods (catching Mew and the birds, cloning Mewtwo) and dismiss non-anger emotions as "weak", she's likely to aspire to that even if her personality is naturally sweet. I can also see her bankrolling Team Galactic's...less public ventures with her trust fund or something. Also something something shares her father's love for cats.

-Holon: Holon would be Rome/Italy. A "holon" is simultaneously a whole and a heart, just as how Rome was a city and an empire. In a somewhat post-apocalyptic Pokemon world, history etc gets muddled, and Rome (Holon) the city would come to define the region. Someone vainglorious like Giovanni would certainly embrace a legacy as impressive as that of the Romans.

-Starters: A starter is not necessarily the first pokemon that follows you, but rather, the first pokemon you formally obtain after you get your trainer's license. A lot of kids are given "pets", which are technically either wild pokemon or owned by their parents, so that they can get used to handling pokemon. The Blackthorn Dragon Tamers certainly aren't waiting until 10/11 to train their kids. Any pokemon can be a starter (eg: Lance's dratini), but the canonical starter trios were specially bred for temperament (obedience) and reasonable leveling curves (not too hard to level up, but doesn't grow so fast they overpower the trainer), and are thus highly recommended for families without libraries of generational knowledge and experience.

I don't find it very realistic that every main series game playable character did absolutely no training and then beat the League in a short amount of time. Lyra here was mentioned to have won the "Silver Conference", which is the Johto general championship competition in the anime. It would be an amateur competition, where anyone can enter as long as they're not a League employee. She gets a chikorita from Elm for helping out in the lab, but it's by no means her ace or first pokemon. My general reasoning here—I also find it unrealistic that Silver would be a first time trainer, given that his father was a gym leader, and him picking on and following a completely green trainer just...doesn't make sense.