An attempt at a novelization of Pokemon Moon with three goals:

1. Characterize the player character, with a focus on what it would take to become the first champion.

2. Expand upon the UB and Pokemon League plots presented in the game.

3. Focus on interesting characters who didn't get the same story presence as Lillie - Tapu Koko, Gladion, Professor Kukui, etc.

Please bear with me. I hope I've imagined up a story worth telling! I won't be adding any elements from Ultra Moon, so if any do appear, it's really just a coincidence.

A thanks to the friends who gave me the confidence to make this story a reality. You know who you are. : )

1: unfinished farewells

Moon rubbed at her eyes once, twice, before moving a hand to cover yet another yawn. She'd been staring at her laptop monitor so long that her eyeballs felt like they were going to cave in on themselves. With a weary sigh, the girl pinched the bridge of her nose, eyelids fluttering shut. For a moment, the pressure in her face ebbed, but it did little else.

Fatigue oppressively draped over her person, and the act of thinking becoming tedious and unbearable. The thirteen year old girl felt herself deflate onto her desk, her head resting atop her arms. Her nose hurt badly where it pressed against her bony wrist, but Moon did not move. She only had enough energy to squint angrily at the bright, unchanging screen before her.

There was a bitter sense of worthlessness festering underneath the exhaustion. Moon had barely been able to muster the willpower to tumble out of bed and straighten up her appearance. All she really had to do today was wait for a call. That was it.

Her eyes flitted over to the time on her laptop's taskbar. 2:49 PM.

She grimaced. And to think she already wanted to call it a day.

Of course, life didn't work like that - not when Moon was at the mercy of Professor Kukui's irregular work schedule. The professor was most certainly a busy man, just as any person with the vaunted title of Professor of Pokemon had to be. Moon was under no delusion that she was important.

...No, such a thought would be foolishly arrogant.

The girl frowned, indulging in a thought that had been nagging at her for nearly a year.

An esteemed professor going out of his way to have monthly calls with some unnoteworthy girl from Kanto? It was incredible, but something about it… Moon squirmed uncomfortably, something that was perhaps dread or shame settling at the bottom of her stomach. She and her mother were moving to Alola, so the help the professor had offered was more than appreciated. Nevertheless, Professor Kukui was involved in the arrangements to a degree that… Well…

It didn't reflect the truth of the relationship between the professor and the mother-daughter duo. Handling the paperwork for Alolan citizenship, finding them a house, and even taking the time to talk them both on a regular basis...

...Why?

It definitely wasn't in the professor's job description to be making accommodations for a random immigrating mother-daughter pair. The girl shook her head and let out a low sigh. All she could do was speculate in circles, so for the sake of her nerves, it would probably be better to drop the matter for now.

Moon shifted uncomfortably in her seat a few times. Sitting in silence and doing nothing… Being so idle left her prey to her own anxieties. No matter how hard she had wanted to pretend those impending deadlines (packing away home, leaving home, going far, far away -) weren't there, their inevitability menacingly loomed over her like a shadow.

It was cold underneath that shade, knowing she and her mother would be leaving Kanto forever.

A future lay beyond that, Moon knew, but such a statement did not put her at ease. The journey could be hell, only for the destination to be even worse.

But you never know! Optimism insisted. Things could go well!

And there it was again, that word - "could". It promised her anything. It promised her nothing. And in this house no longer home, Moon found herself with a whole lot of nothing and not much of anything.

A decade's worth of living had been stripped from her bedroom - no, this bedroom. What little sense Moon had of her own identity had once resided here, and she had gotten rid of it all. Thrown it out like worthless garbage. All that remained was a heavy silence and a room that wasn't hers. The thought left her with an emptiness bit into her skin like frost, and from the holes leaked a quiet resentment that had been bubbling up inside of her over the past week.

What was she now but an existence a breath away from nothingness?

The almost scratches of her mother's slippers grazing across wooden floors began once more, creeping under the crack of the bedroom door. Before all of this, her mother holed herself up in her own room for work most days, so the soft sound used to be a comforting reminder of the woman's presence.

For the last seven days, it had been a death knell.

Moon thought of a life withering away in bed, unable to recognize the whispers of funeral preparations and medical bills floating just above it. She grimaced.

It isn't the same, the girl tried to tell herself. You know that it isn't fair or right to make that kind of comparison -

She had woken up one day and suddenly found that her bedroom, her home were not hers anymore, featureless and cold and unwelcoming. Nothing had changed since she had gone to bed the night before, and yet… and yet...! Her heart, weary and tattered and somehow still beating, grieved as if someone she loved was dying before her.

However, life just did as it always did: continue on without so much as a glance back.

A year ago, her mother had told her that they would be moving to a place far, far away. Two years ago, her childhood had met a tragic, miserable end. And even before that, Moon had been… well, not a particularly happy child, to say the least. She lived through all of it, forcing herself to make it through each and every day because her mother deserved so more than the little her own daughter could give in return. If her mother wanted to move, then Moon would follow without question.

That was all there was to it. Her own feelings weren't important if her mother could be happy. Her mother deserved whatever she wanted.

Her mother's conviction that a change in scenery would help Moon out of her slump had been the woman's main reasoning behind moving to Alola. In the end, her mother was bound by the maternal need to see her daughter be happy. And for Moon, it was a bitter thought, to say the least.

If the girl seriously thought about it, the prospect of moving to Alola wasn't so bad. However, would moving really solve anything? Was it even the right thing to do in the first place? Wasn't it just running away?

Plagued by these questions yet again, the thirteen year-old girl sunk back into her swivel chair, her mind numb with doubt and indecisiveness. The pros and cons were pretty straightforward, and Moon could have argued for either if she really wanted to do so.

She didn't. She didn't even want to have to make a choice in the first place.

How could she when one variable could ruin everything? How on earth was she supposed to have any faith in herself? How could she do anything right when she was afraid of all the what-ifs?

All of the things that she would lose by picking one over the other, all of the obstacles that she didn't believe she could overcome, all of the room for failure, regardless of what she chose?

It was like trying to build a tower of cards, knowing that it would come crashing down if she so much as breathed funny. Moon couldn't handle that disappointment, much less pick herself back up afterward and steel herself to try again.

One failure was already one too much for her to bear.

She was so fragile, so pathetic, so shameful, and the cold, hard truth made the familiar burn of tears seize her throat and eyes. Everyone else was better than this.

So couldn't she...?

A faint sense of resentment, anger even, bubbled amidst all the self-loathing. Moon had been the victim. Moon had been the one who had been undeniably broken by what had happened two years ago.

So why the hell was she the one still trying to piece herself together? Why was she the one forced to find someplace else? The sudden injustice of it all left Moon with the urge to want to smash something to pieces and scream that it had never been her fault!

But at the edge of her peripheries, the gray urn lying by the base of her desk came into view, and Moon instinctively went rigid.

Right. It may not have been her fault, but it had undeniably been her responsibility. She had screwed up, and someone else paid the price in her place.

Disgusting.

A familiar sorrow bubbled up in her throat, unspoken sorries and pleas for forgiveness drying up as they left her mouth. They came out strangled and ugly: a long, shuddering exhale that, somewhere along the way, had transformed grief into pathetic self-pity.

Moon could feel herself trembling, trembling as if she was struggling to rein in some terrible evil that lurked inside her. She almost wanted to laugh. What a stupid analogy. She was just a silly little girl who had barely lived longer than a decade, and here she was, trying to drown herself in the tears she had shed over silly, stupid reasons.

Even so, the whole situation was unbearable. Absolutely unbearable to that point that she almost wanted… almost wanted to... almost wanted to die, just so that she could spare herself her own self-inflicted misery.

Yet, at the same time, the thought of dying absolutely terrified Moon, trapping the girl in a torturous limbo where being alive was both a punishment and a relief.

And wasn't that pathetic? Her whole existence seemed to center itself around contradiction. Her thoughts didn't really feel like her own at times. If anything, they were more like tools for her convenience, tools to wound her self esteem. Whatever would hurt more at the moment was all that mattered to her.

That kind of self-destruction… It was beyond the help of others, beyond the help of herself, wasn't it?

A soft coo broke the silence as if to tell her no, you're wrong. Moon blinked once and found herself back inside her dark not-bedroom, eye to eye with her rowlet. The little pokemon regarded its trainer with such visible concern that the girl felt guilty for letting such unhealthy habits get the better of her.

"Thanks," the girl murmured as the rowlet landed onto her lap.

Right. She wasn't hopeless.

There were definitely things she could do to stop herself from plunging headfirst down slippery slopes. She just had to pay more attention. Just had to try harder, no matter how much life seemed to suck.

The girl gently stroked the rowlet's head, the pokemon delicately hopping forward so that it could nuzzle her stomach. Not satisfied with just that gesture, the rowlet carefully nudged at her arm with one of its feet, prompting Moon to pick it up and let it perch on her shoulder. It did its best to bury its face into her neck, and the girl closed her eyes, savoring the familiar, soothing sensation. The rowlet's quiet, little chirps always grounded the girl back to reality, and Moon let herself focus on the sweet sound, on the soft feathers brushing against her neck, on the proof that Moon didn't have to face her demons alone.

So when her computer began to ring, the little video call icon shaking furiously, Moon opened her eyes and took a slow, deep breath.

She… she could do this. She was capable of amazing things if she put her mind to it.

Determined, the girl moved the mouse cursor over to the video call icon, only to falter and let it dither there. Her rowlet lightly nipped at her ear, clearly disapproving of how fast she'd lost her conviction.

"I can't help it," Moon whispered pathetically. "When you think about it, the odds of me screwing up aren't going to magically improve."

The rowlet only snorted into her ear, familiar with its trainer's usual nonsense. With that attitude, of course not.

"You just don't get it," the girl insisted. "There's choices to make, expectations to meet, people to disappoint… D-don't give me that look! Y-you know it's true!"

The rowlet rolled its eyes, bracing itself for the inevitable ramble.

"...Though it would probably be really bad if I didn't take the call, right? The professor would just call again and again and then Mother would find out and ask me why I didn't just pick up the first time -"

Moon found herself paling at the thought of that confrontation.

"I, I can't deal with that! (Her rowlet chirped in agreement. It would be disastrous.) I'd have to explain, no wait, apologize to the professor why I couldn't just click on an icon, but he might hate me anyways and I, I c-can't have that! Not when -"

The faint click of the computer mouse made the girl pause, and much to her horror, Moon looked down at her right hand to find the rowlet sitting on it. When it met her gaze, the little pokemon offered her a simple tilt of its head towards the laptop monitor.

"You didn't," the girl said in disbelief, revising that thought as the rowlet unapologetically nodded in disagreement.

Helplessly coming to the realization that the screen was now buffering, Moon shot her pokemon a frantic look. If the rowlet was going to toss her headfirst into this uncomfortable situation, it'd better have the decency to offer some moral support.

As the video sharpened in quality, putting herself face to face with the famous Alolan Professor Kukui himself, Moon took slight comfort in her rowlet softly scratching the back of her hand with its feet. Plastering the most picture-perfect smile she could on her face, Moon hoped that she could hold in the scream.

"Hang on now," the man said, reaching up to adjust his camera. "Just gimme a sec."

Gifted with a quite detailed close up of the professor's, erm, chest, Moon bit her lip, attempting to stave off the inevitable blush and keep her mouth shut. Oh, why did the man hate shirts?

Not that she would ever ask him that to his face. Explaining that to her mother would be quite…

She shuddered. Let's not think about that.

"Hey there, Moon! Good evening!" Professor Kukui said cheerily, waving a hand rather obnoxiously in front of the camera.

He paused for a moment, clearly noticing something as he leaned his face further into the camera. Out of instinct, Moon scooted her chair back a little, trying not to cringe at how the wheels of her chair loudly scraped against the wooden floor.

"Pretty sure it's not evening over in Kanto," he commented. "Why is it so dark on your end?"

"Er..." Moon weakly offered in response, mentally scrambling to come up with an acceptable explanation.

Even though calls with the Alolan professor had been monthly for almost a year, Moon had always kept the man at an emotional arm's length. She had never been completely honest to him about her feelings, a behavior that probably defeated the purpose of having regular conversations to help her with her moving anxieties.

As the dreaded day had come closer and closer, Moon had taken to sleeping whenever she could. The girl couldn't stand being left alone to her own thoughts, thoughts that always expected the worst. With the curtains drawn and lights off, she could pretend that it was night all the time, and when it was night, Moon wasn't obligated to do anything other than lie in bed and think herself to sleep.

No having to deal with things like moving to another region, gradually tearing her home apart until it became a house she didn't recognize, having to say awkward goodbyes to people she didn't really know…

Yes, Moon knew how childish it was to think she could avoid the inevitable forever, but she had tried to regardless.

The girl faked a cough to partially obscure her face and avoid answering the man's question, feeling uncomfortable under the professor's growing scrutiny. Yes, she had probably dug herself into a hole yet again, but being honest with the professor on the eve of the move seemed like a terrible idea.

It probably wouldn't hurt to sweep this one incident under the rug, right? She could start off on a clean slate from here on out, and nobody would know any better.

Silently trying to reassure herself about such things, Moon moved to get up out of her chair, mumbling an inaudible "sorry" to the professor that he simply waved off. She halted when the lights came on by themselves, her rowlet dutifully flying by the switch.

"Thanks, Watmel," she told the pokemon, praying to Arceus that the professor would drop the question. If she didn't have to deal with the topic any further, she'd feel a lot less guilty. It wasn't like Moon was trying to deceive the professor or anything, she was just… reluctant to divulge that kind of stuff.

Yeah. Let's go with that.

Thankfully, the professor only smiled, seemingly distracted by the off-screen presence of her pokemon. "Good to see that you're getting along well with the rowlet I gave you."

"Yeah," the girl agreed. The response came out a bit too much like a relieved sigh for her tastes.

Damn it, don't think about that. It makes perfect sense in context. Act guilty, and he'll know you're guilty.

"Pretty cute and also pretty smart, in spite of how she looks." Watmel cooed in agreement, flying over to Moon upon hearing the professor's familiar voice. It silently landed on the desk, walking over so it could get a look at the laptop monitor and chirping happily upon seeing the man's face.

"Hey there Rowlet!" Professor Kukui said, grinning widely upon seeing how well the pokemon had adjusted to living in another region.

"So, you like it in Kanto?"

The rowlet nodded repeatedly as if to get the point across.

"You like Moon?"

Even more furious nodding.

"...You wanna come back to me?"

The rowlet paused to consider the question before it turned away from the screen and walked over to Moon. With a single, sharp chirp that Moon had come to recognize as "hold me!", Watmel promptly hopped into its trainer's arms. The pokemon squirmed around until it was comfortable and then turned to face the professor, shaking its head emphatically.

"Watmel!" Moon sputtered, affronted by this behavior that she hadn't taught the rowlet. When the professor pretended to gasp in offense, the pokemon only doubled down on the head shaking. The man soon broke out into laughter, having to remove his glasses for a moment so he could wipe away the tears from his eyes.

"Guess it's my loss then. She's all yours, Moon." He chuckled a little before shaking his head in defeat, though the proud smile on his face suggested otherwise. "But I have to get this straight - you nicknamed her after a berry?"

Moon shrugged. "Why not? And how'd you guess that?"

"Well, everyone calls me Professor Kukui for a reason," he pretended to boast, giving her a big, infectious smile and a firm thumbs up. "Gotta be pretty smart, you know - they don't just give the 'Professor of Pokemon' title to any ol' person."

"Considering that they gave you of all people that title..." she replied jokingly, resisting the urge to giggle at how dramatically the man threw up his hands.

"Kids these days… Not one drop of respect for their elders!" the professor said in disbelief, exaggeratedly shaking his head. "So, little miss genius, why don't you tell me why Alola is chock full of nothin' but rare pokemon?"

"Well, Alola is made up of several islands that are separated by water, so it's kinda like how there's unique pokemon in different regions? Just… on a smaller level, I guess."

"Oh my, you don't sound so sure of yourself."

Moon faked an indignant huff. Having this kind of conversation with the professor was always nice, at least. "I'm not the expert - you are!"

"All right, I'll give you that one," he laughed. "Anyhow, that's the most accepted explanation for the diversity of Alolan pokemon. Such mysterious creatures! You find 'em all over - in the grass, in the caves, in the sky and sea…"

Towards the end, the professor's voice began to drift off. Moon felt almost awkward to be witness to how much passion the man had for his work and region.

It just… it just seemed too good to be true. No matter how much the adults around her tried to reassure again and again that she could follow her dreams and could do whatever she set out to be, Moon could only think of her mother.

No one would ever wish to be confined to her own home, alone in raising a child. Yet in spite of all her hard work, all her hopes and dreams, fate had brought her mother here, leaving her to the mercy of things far out of the woman's control.

"But yeah!" Professor Kukui continued, looking a little abashed at spacing out. "Here in Alola, we love our pokemon, and we depend on them heaps, too. Some of us even battle with 'em, if we call ourselves pokemon trainers!"

Here, the professor paused, and Moon, though still troubled by her previous train of thought, immediately focused his smile seemed to tighten at the corners. What did pokemon trainers have to do with…

Oh no, Moon thought with dread. Not this again.

And the professor recognized this too, starting off slow in hopes of easing the girl into the touchy topic he was approaching. "Moon…"

However, to Moon, that softer, more serious tone was only foreign and that much more terrifying.

"Are you sure you don't want to reconsider getting your trainer's licens - Hey!"

All of a sudden, a small pokemon shoved its face in the camera, and Moon's heart almost stopped then and there, albeit for a reason she hadn't been expecting.

"So cute..." Moon said weakly, a pathetic sort of longing in her voice that cute things just coaxed out her. The little puppy pokemon barked happily at the comment, leaning forward to lick the camera, though, with quick thinking, the professor managed to grab and pull it away before that could happen.

Watmel, still nestled in its trainer's arms, let out a single, loud chirp demanding its trainer's attention, but Moon only nodded absently, giving the rowlet a distracted, half-hearted pat. Miffed by the gesture, the rowlet wriggled out of Moon's arms, returning to its favorite perch on her shoulder where it could leer at the offending pokemon on the computer screen.

"Rockruff!" Professor Kukui exclaimed, ducking out of his web camera's line of sight, probably to set the pokemon down on the floor. "Can you wait until I'm done talkin' to play?!"

As he came back into view, the man gave Moon a mildly apologetic look. Though when Watmel accepted the apology in its trainer's place with a pleased coo, Moon could tell that the man was trying very hard to suppress an amused snicker.

"All right, where was I?" the professor said, scratching his head, more distracted by his rockruff's interruption than the girl had expected.

"You said last time that you wanted one last call before we left so you could finish up some paperwork," Moon quickly cut in. The professor's rockruff had given her an incredible opportunity, and she wasn't going to let it go to waste. "You also wanted to check up on Watmel, but I think you can tell she's doing fine here."

"Right!" the professor exclaimed, sifting through a decently neat stack of papers on his desk. "I gotta ask you some questions about yourself so I can introduce you to everybody!"

"I already finished all your paperwork by the way," the man added, carefully picking out a few sheets and setting them aside. "I may not look like it, but I actually try my best to get things done ahead of time - Hey! Cut the certified Professor of Pokemon some slack over here!"

"I can't help it," Moon giggled. "You look absolutely nothing like - Arceus, I look terrible."

An assortment of photos had popped up onscreen, and instinctively, the girl recoiled. When on earth had her mother had given the professor all those photos? Covering her eyes with one hand, Moon cursed her mother's tendency to shamelessly show off pictures of her precious little girl. Without said precious little girl's opinion.

"You're right. I most certainly look nothing like a legendary pokemon," Professor Kukui said with a hint of amusement. "Speaking of appearances, you like any of these?"

"The one that's the least ugly," Moon muttered. "I trust your opinion."

The man only shook his head, exchanging a sad look with Moon's rowlet.

"All right then, don't blame me if you hate the one I've picked. ...This one good?"

One of the photos expanded to encompass the entire video window, and Moon couldn't help but smile at what she saw. This one had been taken at the very top of the famous Celadon Department Store during an impromptu visit to the city. The girl was pretending to rest her chin upon her rowlet, the small pokemon doing its best to try and look up at her.

The sight made Moon feel nostalgic. Back when she had first gotten the pokemon, Moon had been afraid for doing so, wary about hurting the rowlet. However, with time, she eventually learned that it had no problem with being her headrest, even if it wasn't a particularly good one. It still had yet to warn her before flying off though, leading to many sore chins.

Imagining both the soft plumage of her rowlet and the familiar pain on her chin, Moon realized that she wasn't even grateful enough for having the pokemon as her companion.

"Sure, Watmel's cuteness will draw attention away from my face," she said jokingly, affectionately petting the rowlet. It let out a trill in approval and leaned further into her hand.

"All right then," the professor said, pretending to crop the photo so all that remained was Watmel and a little bit of Moon's chin at the top. He let out a quiet chuckle when Moon stuck her tongue out at him. "Next question. You're thirteen, correct?"

The girl nodded. "Yeah."

"And your next birthday is a ways off if I remember correctly."

"It's in a few months, so not too near, not too far."

"Would you be mad if I got lazy and called Watmel the gift for your fourteenth birthday, then?"

"If you're going to put it like that, yes."

"Heh, nice to know. Now, do you have any preferred name that you would rather the folks o'er here to know you as? Or is it perfectly okay for me to dramatically introduce you as the beautiful Moon among the stars that moves even the greatest oceans?"

Moon flushed a horrible shade of red, moving both her hands up to cover her face. Watmel squawked indignantly at the professor, convinced that he had done something wrong. "Please don't. In fact, please don't ever say that again."

"Aw, I thought it sounded amazingly poetic!"

"You're a professor, not a poet," the girl huffed. "Though, now that you've brought that up…"

The girl stiffened for a moment, wondering if she should really go through with what she wanted about to say. Already, she could see the professor's raised eyebrow as he expectantly awaited her response.

Suddenly, Moon found herself frowning - exactly what was she afraid of?

She was already talking to Professor Kukui, finishing up the last steps for moving. The boxes had been packed, the house sold, the tickets purchased. If anything, it would be more selfish to try and insist to stay at this point, wouldn't it?

After all, her mother and the professor had already gone to a lot of time and money to arrange this move, for her. And whether she stayed or went, Moon knew that she'd still be plagued by a constant feeling of dread, so what difference did it make?

So why was she hesitating?

Taking a deep breath, she decided to go for it. At the very least, it would be rude to keep the professor waiting. Moon found herself hugging Watmel tightly, tight enough to make the rowlet luck up with concern.

"Selene."

She could see the confusion begin to tug at Kukui's brow. The way fear pooled into her stomach, making it twist and churn, she knew that her troubles were far from over. If she could barely get through this, how was she supposed to handle the move to Alola?

Dammit. Don't get cold feet. Don't cave in.

Kukui remained oblivious to her turmoil, instead looking rather contemplative.

"Selene?" he asked, trying the name on his tongue as if he was sampling some bizarre, foreign food. "Something wrong with Moon?"

The girl made it a point to not look at the professor, knowing how much it would hurt to see another piteous expression that she didn't deserve. No, there was nothing wrong with the way he said it, but others -

Others had been so horrible to her.

"I… I just… I prefer Selene," she said flatly, hoping that it didn't come off as rude. "When I'm in Alola, I'd like you to call me that instead."

Moon exhaled slowly, praying that she wouldn't start crying. She just couldn't, especially in front of the professor.

"But," she found herself automatically adding, "I guess it's okay if you call me Moon in private."

It felt wrong of her to make Professor Kukui adopt something new when he had spent the last year coaxing out the person he had come to know as Moon. Even if "Moon" didn't really feel like it was her. Even if it just felt like a polite facade that she put up so that she wouldn't worry others. Even if she didn't even know what she wanted of herself outside of the expectations others set for her.

Much to her relief, the professor didn't appear as though he intended to prod further on the matter. If he did, the girl probably would have caved then and there. Moon wasn't exactly sure how much her mother had told the professor, but she was certain he didn't know all of it.

Surely Mother wouldn't have, the girl thought nervously.

"10-4, good buddy!" Professor Kukui said a bit too cheerily, acting as though the previous moment hadn't been so awkward. "I'll let everybody out here know you're on your way! Selene! Yeah, that's a name that hits you like a Thunderbolt outta the sky! Woo!"

Moon wanted to cover her face out of embarrassment; he was laying it on a bit too thick. Actually, way too thick.

Gods, what would everyone in Alola think of her? Who knows what he would tell everyone?

"That was all I really needed - can't wait to see you in person then, cousin!" With that said and done, Kukui moved to end the call, all while lightly waving at the camera. The video window went dark, and, staring blankly at her computer's desktop, Moon felt herself slump back into her chair.

That was more tiring than she had expected from a call with the professor.

"...Cousin?" she weakly asked her rowlet, trying to process what had happened.

Watmel only tilted its head once more, offering an equally confounded chirp.

Moon hated the color white.

It was much too easy to stain, and she couldn't stand how even the slightest touch of color would permanently blemish it. White was supposed to be something pristine and perfect, but what good were such qualities if they could be so easily ruined?

It was everywhere, that disgusting color, and no matter where she looked, where she ran, that was all she found. A prison with no wall, no boundaries, but a prison all the same.

Then, that happened.

At the edge of her sight, red and pinks stained the ground like watercolors on paper. A familiar fear trickled through Selene's veins, and so she ran, ran, and ran. Before her was white and behind her was…! Was…!

(If Moon ever considered the color white beautiful, its beauty was a breath away from being shattered to pieces.)

But the hideous, dark taint rushed past her feet, devouring the white land, sky -

And finally her.

"Moon!"

Moon stammered incoherently, jolting up from her slumped position. She turned a little red, embarrassed to caught dozing off at her desk with her laptop still open but probably out of battery. Not that those were the kind of things that would anger her mother. As expected, the women took in the sight with mild amusement, Watmel dutifully flying above her shoulder.

"Watmel let you doze off for an hour before she decided to fetch me. ...I'm guessing Professor Kukui called?" the woman asked gently.

Moon slowly nodded, trying to process how much her back ached now that she was sitting upright.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Moon tried to ignore how those five words had made her feel sick and dizzy. Like coming down from an adrenaline high, only to find herself nosediving and spiraling out of control.

"It's not that I was intentionally putting it off," the girl explained, trying to convince herself more than her mother of that fact. "I just… fell asleep."

The girl shivered, wondering why her insides felt so empty. She couldn't remember exactly what she had been dreaming was about, and yet… she just had a bad feeling, as silly as that sounded in her head.

Arms wrapped around the girl, and Moon instinctively stiffened, shrinking away at the touch as if she could make herself smaller than she already was. However, after a brief moment of recognition, she forced herself to return the hug, awkwardly squeezing her mother as if she could wring out all the tension and distance that she had built between the two.

"You know," her mother began softly, using the feather-light, almost whisper of a voice that she had always used when speaking to Moon about uncomfortable things. Like she had two years ago when it happened. Like she did now, trying to dance around the lines that Moon had forcibly drawn between herself and everyone else.

Between child and a mother who only wanted the best for her.

"It's okay."

Moon tried not to frown, biting back the whisper of "lies" that wanted to escape her lips.

"...What is?" she asked, pretending to not know.

"This!" her mother answered plainly (too earnestly), pulling away from her daughter so the woman could make gesture at their surroundings. "...I know that you've been having a rough two years. And I'm sorry that I couldn't be there for you, there for you as a mother should."

You have nothing to be sorry for at all, Moon couldn't say. You've always been there, always been in reach. It's not your fault -

"Did you at least say goodbye to your friends?"

Moon stiffened. What friends?

Acquaintances, perhaps, but friends? She remembered hideously crying in the pokemon center, alone before the adults that only shook their heads and gave her the empty sorries that they were supposed to give a heartbroken child. Old classmates that didn't even bother to talk behind her back. Children who were sweet and kind but far too young to understand.

Would anyone even notice that she was gone? Would anyone even remember her?

"Said goodbye to them all," she responded flatly. Not that she could ever bring herself say any of those things out loud.

"And to your -"

"Yes," she said shortly, cutting off her mother in a rare case of deliberate impoliteness. "I visited earlier today."

The statement felt like a lie, even though it wasn't. Even if she had finally taken the time to visit, against a decade of indifference, it had only felt like a shallow attempt to make last minute amends. To try one last to find theconnection that she was told was supposed to be there.

In reality, Moon didn't feel anything other than mild frustration. The whole thing had just been a waste of time. How on earth was she supposed to mourn something that she had never known she had lost in the first place? There was no need for her mother to say anything more. What point was there in wasting breath on words with no meaning?

"I see," her mother said quietly. Moon looked down at her feet, disturbed by her own volatile reaction. "Did you…?"

The older woman trailed off, inclining her head in the direction of the urn, cold and gray and lifeless, that had remained unpacked. Moon nervously glanced in its direction, afraid that another look would burn. Burn her fragile heart as cruelly as it had the first time, permanently branding that terrible day two years ago into her being.

Moon was struck with immense guilt. Maybe she herself couldn't really care, but the people she cared about… like her mother… if they felt like how she was feeling right now…

Dammit, why was she being such a brat? She had been raised better!

"Of course," Moon managed to get out, feeling sick with herself. "It's the right thing to do. I… couldn't ever force myself in between -"

"They both loved you," her mother said softly, taking the girl into a gentle embrace. Moon felt as though she was being smothered by her own shame. "I want you to let go, but you don't have to do it all at once."

Moon bit back the scathing remarks she wanted to make. Wasn't two years long enough? If people could move on, if her mother could move on, why couldn't she?

All she had done was shut herself in with her own misery and wallow around in it. Her room was a cage. The whole house had been one. Hadn't she spent the last year in hiding, pretending that her little moments out in the sunlight were great accomplisments?

The cage was now open, but could she really bring herself to leave the confines of familiarity for the uncertainty promised of the outside world? Who exactly was she afraid of confronting? Everyone else? Herself?

Moon didn't want to think about that.

Pushing herself away from her mother, Moon kept her eyes on the floor, determined to avoid the disappointed look that the woman surely had on her face. She walked towards the accursed urn because anything was better than having to face her own mother, especially after having such thoughts - treacherous thoughts that she would be ashamed to have her mother know of.

She shivered, cool porcelain drawing the warmth from her fingertips as she picked it up and made a show of looking the room for an empty box she could place it in.

"Well, might as well pack it now. Knowing me, I'll forget to do it in the morning," Moon said jokingly, immediately cringing at her own pathetic attempt to lighten the mood.

She pretended to examine the urn with interest (but really, these were standard grade, and she'd seen so many of them before), waiting with bated breath for the inevitable confrontation. Her mother was probably going to have one of those talks with her, wasn't she? They'd spent a year, two years dithering about the lines that Moon had drawn between them, and eventually, someone would have to do something.

They couldn't just… live like this for the rest of their lives, right?

"Then you should also pack up everything on your desk," her mother laughed. An inoffensive gesture, and yet - "Unless you want to write out all your homework by hand in Alola."

Moon felt her heart crawl back into the bottomless hole it came from and didn't even bother with trying to stop it. This was always how it had been between them: her mother treating her like a ticking bomb that might go off yet again, she herself waiting for someone else to make the first move. A stalemate with seemingly no hope of end in sight.

Of course, Moon didn't think the gap between her and her mother - one that had existed a year, two years, a decade even - was going to be bridged any time soon but...

"Aether Foundation, huh?"

The girl coughed a little to hide her surprise. "I'm sorry…?"

Her mother waved a white pamphlet at her.

Right. Professor Kukui had sent her tons of different brochures and papers in his campaign to sell her on moving to Alola. Feeling pressured into not letting his goodwill go to waste and anticipating that the man would expect a follow up if (no, when) they arrived in Alola, she had briefly looked over every attachment, printing out the ones that caught her eye.

"It's a pokemon... conservation group based near Alola," Moon mumbled, wondering exactly why she felt so meek. "I thought that maybe, maybe I could shoot for applying there once I finished school. Or volunteer... I guess."

Her mother's features softened at the thought, giving Moon a sad smile. Moon tried not to frown, turning away when she could tell that she was failing.

No. Don't do that.

"It could be really good for you, but you don't have to think so far ahead, dear."

Please don't pity me.

"But I want you to know that it'll be all right. I'll be fine with whatever you choose for yourself."

I won't be fine.

I could be wrong. I could fail again. I have to be better, have to do better, because if I don't -

"Though, this Aether Foundation looks top of the notch!" her mother exclaimed, exaggeratedly looking through the pamphlet. "You've got a nice eye, dear!"

The girl blinked. The dark little voice in her head scuttled back into whatever recess it came from. For now.

"Yeah…"

"And, oh my! Look at how beautiful the president is!" her mother continued, all but shoving the pamphlet in her daughter's face. Moon blinked yet again, rather startled by her mother's sudden forwardness. Finding herself face to face with a small square photo of a blonde woman, Moon couldn't help but find her seemingly flawless - not a single blemish on her skin, strand of long silky hair out of place, nor wrinkle on her pristine dress.

The Aether Foundation President Lusamine was perfection in human form.

Moon shivered. How unnatural.

"Oh no. No, no, no. There's no way… This lady can't be my age," her mother gaped as she more carefully examined the paper. "Can you believe it, Moon?"

Moon squinted at the photo again when her mother offered it up for a second examination. She was determined to find a single flaw but, wow, not a single one. How was it that almost every famous person was so disgustingly photogenic? The more she looked at the photo, the more the woman printed on the paper felt less real.

Could that woman… really be someone like her mother? Surely being that flawless was a crime in itself.

"Maybe?" she admitted, ignoring her mother's offended gasp.

"Though I could see them touching up the photo," Moon quickly added, hoping to placate her mother.

"Yes, that's probably it," her mother mumbled, repeatedly patting her own face and hair. "Probably. Has to be."

Moon rolled her eyes at her mother's dramatics. "If it makes you feel better, I think I'd prefer you over her."

Her mother smiled so brightly that the girl felt like she had the wind smacked out of her. "Sure it does, dear."

Her mother had done nothing wrong. Nothing to be stuck with a daughter like her. A daughter who didn't know anything. A daughter who couldn't do anything. A daughter who wouldn't amount to anything.

All her mother's blood, sweat, and tears? All of it would only lead to further suffering and disappointment, and her mother didn't deserve that kind of fate.

"Tomorrow, we leave for Alola! Oh, I can't wait!" the woman exclaimed, jumping up and down a little. Moon tried not to frown.

Hey mom, are you happy?

"Right… that's tomorrow," the girl said slowly, trying the word on her tongue. The momentous day had come so fast. Too fast.

"Mom," she said quietly, throat aching with tears that she refused to shed. "I'm sorry."

That look on her mother's face again. That look that she donned so many times before her daughter - a year ago, two years ago, even long before that. That look that was directed to a person who could no longer see it. That look… that look of…!

What have I done wrong? How have things come to this? How can I do better?

How can I make sure my daughter will be happy?

Tossing the Aether Foundation pamphlet aside, Moon silently watched her mother close the physical distance between them in five steps. If only it were that easy.

"For what, Moon?" her mother asked, eyes bright (So bright, too bright, Moon thought.) with concern as she ran her thumbs over the girl's cheeks.

How cruel, Moon thought, that she couldn't breathe the truth to her mother. For all of her mother's love and worrying, Moon had given her empty words and hope. She had chosen to lie to her mother, or rather -

"...This," Moon said simply, using a slight handwave to gesture at everything and nothing.

She was incapable of being honest in the first place.

"It's fine, sweetie!" her mother laughed, ruffling Moon's hair and ignoring her daughter's squeak of protest. "I've always wanted to visit Alola. And we have to thank Professor Kukui for helping us with the entire moving in process."

But we're not just visiting, Moon treacherously thought. And even I know that the professor is doing so much more than he has to. Why?

"Besides," her mother continued with an amused smile, "it's too late to change our minds now!"

"Yeah," the girl grimly agreed. For a moment, she wondered where Watmel had gone, only to freeze up upon seeing where the pokemon had perched itself.

"Too late," Moon echoed hollowly, unsure what she was supposed to feel upon seeing her current pokemon obliviously preen itself upon the urn that had once held ashes of her last.

In all honesty, it felt like a sick joke.

Notes:

This fic is also crossposted to Ao3 under the same name. Check seizingthenight on tumblr for all the worldbuilding that I don't exposition dump on here. (Yep, there's more). That or just feel free to contact me there. :)

Also, if there's any glaring typos, please tell me!

Moon will be referred to as Selene from here on out, to clear any confusion ahead of time. Also, I will refer to pokemon with it/its pronouns, though the characters will typically use gendered pronouns. I'm already getting stressed out writing the mother-daughter scenes because the shared "her" pronoun, so let's not make things more complicated.

I really hope Selene's thinking process comes off as natural. She tends to overthink things, and it's hard to express that compactly in a written form…

You've probably noticed that I've taken liberties with when Selene meets Kukui and her starter pokemon, mostly because I wanted to provide tones for the relationships that she has with them and emphasize how important they will be in her life. I have them set as main characters for a reason, and I hope I've done a good job of getting that across.