Happy New Year. And sincerely, thank you to everybody who has supported my writing throughout the years. You guys are the best, and even when I doubted myself, I read the feedback that you've given me... and felt re-energised. Cheers!

Epilogue
"Chapter Seven - The Finale Sonata"

=========================================================
"Always remember... we are under the same sky, looking at the same moon."
-Maxine Lee-

How many years has it been? Two, three? Whatever the number is, I know it's been a while since Undella. My mother is probably worried sick. Shit.

The waitress serving me has a kind smile. Soft features, like a Renaissance painting. When she hands me my coffee, she peers at my raggedy hoodie but doesn't inquire further. Her blonde curls have a bounce to them, reminding me of somebody whom I don't want to think about right now. As I sip my coffee and hunch over the dingy table, the waitress glances at me before turning to the television attached to the leftmost wall. The screen shows a news broadcast.

"...The construction at Aspertia City has been delayed, but the new Gym Leader for the region reassures us that the public does not need to fear," says the anchorman.

A familiar face appears. He's grown out his hair since I'd last saw him, but he's still recognisable: pale skin, crisp glasses, and a pointed look which teeters between cultured and contemptuous.

"As the Gym Leader for Aspertia City, I will do everything in my power to protect the citizens of Unova," Cheren announces. "The Pokémon League has entrusted me with a great honour, for which I am grateful."

I snort. Cheren has the stiff posture of a substitute teacher, but I don't hate him for that. He's always been a know-it-all, in the best way possible.

For a brief second, I consider grabbing the payphone in the corner of the diner and dialling up Accumula Town. Professor Juniper, Bianca, Cheren… the old gang.

Only for a second, though. Regret collects like pennies in a jar, and in that regard, I must be a fucking millionaire.

.

/+/+/+/+/+/+/

.

Iris gritted her teeth. Raising her arms, she shouted a command at her Pokémon.

"Archeops, Acrobatics into a Hyper Beam!"

Cawing, the prehistoric dragon spread her wings and swooped at Volcarona without hesitation. Panicking, the moth swerved for safety, but Archeops was too swift, as the dinosaur rushed with the force of meteor. Blood speckled; a scream rended. Spinning like a drill, Archeops pummelled Volcarona, who shuddered from impact. Scatters of avian energy gleamed from the dragon's talons, and Volcarona had nary a second to react, before Archeops opened her jaw and honed onto her prey. Amber light coalesced into a sphere, which burgeoned… and then detonated.

The Hyper Beam crashed into Volcarona at point blank range. Detritus and debris flung in all directions, while Iris shielded her eyes from the irradiant explosion. When the dust settled, Archeops soared above the din with a triumphant expression. Beneath the dinosaur was an immobile insect, twitching in a throe.

After a second, the umpire finally interceded.

"Alder's Volcarona is unable to battle!" said the referee. "And the winner of the match is Iris and Archeops!"

Iris felt her shoulders sag with relief. Whispering a small "thanks", she reached for her belt and returned Archeops to her Pokéball. While Iris wiped the sweat off her forehead, her opponent approached her. With a confident stride, Alder stepped under the floodlights which hung above the Pokémon Stadium. Not even the harsh lighting could erase the languid smile on his stubbled face. Between the long poncho on his shoulders and those strappy sandals, Alder resembled a carefree tourist more than he did a League Champion.

Except Iris knew better than to underestimate him. The wounds on her Archeops were testament to that.

"I can see why Shauntal recommended you," said Alder blithely. "You're quite the competitor. I didn't think you'd actually beat me."

Before Iris could reply, Alder shook his head and chuckled to himself.

"That last comment sounded arrogant - please excuse me," said Alder pleasantly. "Old habits die hard. You'll understand what I mean once you begin your duties."

Duties… The term rang in Iris's ears like a funeral bell. Her heart thumped against her chest, as Iris glanced back the people who had been watching her match against Alder. Leaning on the bleachers, the Elite Four were recognisable. Although Marshal's right bicep was the size of Iris's head, he wasn't the one whom Iris feared. Shauntal and her Ghostly affiliations didn't faze Iris either, and neither did Grimsley and his Dark proficiencies. Only one person made Iris feel trepidation. One woman, the only one on the Elite Four who opposed Iris's appointment to the League.

As though she sensed Iris's trepidation, the woman glided towards Iris. The delicate makeup on her face belied the sharpness in her expression. Indeed, autumnal rivulets of hazelnut hair framed a pair of frigid eyes, which fixated on Iris without erring. Her pale silks whispering around her with every step, she gave the impression of an apparition. Despite the dainty Lilycove perfume wafting around the woman, Iris felt nauseous being too close to her.

"You might have beaten Alder," said the woman softly. "But I still have my reservations about you. We can't have a new Champion when that position isn't vacant yet."

Alder coughed. "Caitlin, we've talked about this -"

Abruptly, Caitlin spun around. Her cold eyes flared with a shock of emotion. For a brief moment, the frosted facade fractured, and Caitlin sneered.

"You've talked at me about this!" She paused, attempting to steady her tone. "You forced your interpretation of events down the League's throat, when not all of us agree that he's gone -"

"I'm not trying to replace him," said Iris, swallowing her nervousness. "I respect the former Champion, but by all accounts, he's disappeared. The League has to fill the casual vacancy."

Caitlin gritted her teeth. Trembling, she shook her head.

"He's not gone," said Caitlin resolutely. "I'm not going to accept it. He'll come back, and he'll be the Champion that we need right now."

"Caitlin… We've talked about this, about him," Alder repeated.

A savage look broke over Caitlin's face, contrasting with her pastel shawl. Instinctively, Iris stepped back and reached for a Pokéball. Alder appeared unfazed, though.

Folding his thick arms underneath his poncho, Alder didn't budge when Caitlin lurched forward and glowered at him.

"Don't you even say it," she said icily. "Until you show me a body, I won't believe you. Period."

"Cynthia said he vanished," sputtered Iris. "The Unova Pokémon League has a responsibility to appoint a new Champion…"

Caitlin let out a harsh noise which sounded halfway between a snort and a scoff.

"And what would you know about 'responsibilities' and 'duties'? What have you ever had to surrender for the sake of others?"

Although her pulse hammered like a wardrum, Iris tried to project confidence and spoke in a firm voice.

"I was the Gym Leader of Opelucid Gym, and I learnt under Drayden about the importance of self-sacrifice." Iris continued, although Caitlin remained silent. "In the Village of Dragons, the Elders taught us about the Tao Trinity - the truth and the ideal and the reconciliation of both."

Iris paused, before explaining herself. "As represented by the three dragons who exist in conflict with one another, hard truths and lofty ideals often clash… but a good leader must bring a balance."

At last, Caitlin responded. She tilted back her head, as though she were going to laugh.

"Oh, and you think you're a good leader?" Caitlin jeered at Iris. "You're barely a teenager with a patchy win-loss record. Raw talent, sure, but you don't have the experience and the history required for the job."

While Iris winced, Alder positioned himself between her and Caitlin, as if his bulky body would form a buffer between the two women. He gave Caitlin a furtive but sympathetic look.

"Caitlin…" he said softly. "Just because you lended him your villa doesn't mean you should punish yourself over what had happened."

Recoiling, Caitlin slapped away Alder's hand when he tried to squeeze her shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" she hissed. "Don't you fucking dare."

"I blame myself too, you know," said Alder quietly. "If I hadn't left my post, he wouldn't have had all the burdens of being a Champion. I didn't know how to deal with the aftermath of Team Plasma. Still… it should have been my cross to bear, not his."

"You had injuries which required rehabilitation, and the League officials made the decision to demote you," said Iris, reassuring Alder.

Impassive, he rubbed the nape of his neck. Next to him, Caitlin buried her face in her hands and was… crying?

"I had responsibilities which I neglected," Alder muttered, before turning to Iris. "Being a Champion won't be easy. At several points, you will want to surrender, to run away, to reject the world around you. Never will you be ever alone, but you will always feel lonely. Can you handle that?"

"Drayden told me about the duties," replied Iris, masking the shakiness in her voice. "I wanna do him proud. I'm ready to make the necessary sacrifices."

At that moment, Caitlin raised her head. Although her eyes were red and puffy, she pulled her pouty lips back into a predatory smile, as though she had ensnared Iris in a tourniquet.

"You think you're ready?" Caitlin taunted. "Do you even know what 'sacrifice' entails? It's a form of loss."

"I've lost Pokémon matches before," said Iris tentatively.

"Oh, the little girl thinks she can play dress-up with her little Pokémon," Caitlin said, haughtily. "You think being Champion means putting on a pink, poofy gown? Being Champion is more than your princess games."

When Caitlin leaned towards her, Iris stiffened from the tension. Caitlin whispered in her ear, almost purring like a lover:

"Being a Champion means experiences real loss, and that's something, Sweetheart, that you've never fucking experienced."

Patting a stupefied Iris on the cheek, Caitlin pulled away and threw Alder a withering look which teetered between disdainful and disgusted.

"Don't expect me to embrace her," Caitlin told at Alder. "She's not my Champion, not while he could still be out there."

Alder didn't say a word until Caitlin left the Stadium. After Grimsley and Marshall followed Caitlin out of the bleachers, Alder addressed Iris; his warm eyes softened.

"Caitlin was close to the former Champion," he said gently. "Although they weren't a couple or anything like that, I suspect that she was quite fond of him. Grief contorts people's true personalities."

Iris's shoulders sagged. She felt exhausted, as though she had run a thousand mile marathon.

"I feel like an imposter," admitted Iris. "This whole situation doesn't feel right. Is it even right to move on like this?"

Alder sighed.

"No, it won't feel right in many ways," he said plaintively. "But it is better to look forward and live than wallow in the past."

.

/+/+/+/+/+/+/

.

This is not what I expected. I came here to apprehend one of Team Plasma's Seven Sages. I wasn't to meet two women in plain robes. The older of the two has pastel-tinged hair which almost hums under the moonlight.

"My name is Anthea," says the woman, before gesturing at the other lady. "And this is Concordia. What brings you to the Mistralton Cave?"

"We've met before," I say briskly. "Back at… you know."

Anthea and Concordia exchange a pointed look. The presence of him, his soft laugh, and his green hair suffocates the air around me. After I dismiss a dark memory of that titan's night, I cross my arms.

"What are you two doing here? I thought you left Unova to follow him."

Nameless. We don't need to say his name.

"The Mistralton Cave has one opening in the ceiling that allows the moonlight to soak the interior," says Anthea, ignoring my question and glancing above. "Legends say that the Swords of Justice enter this cave from above, thereby treating the innermost sanctums as their abode."

Scrutinising me, Concordia whispered.

"Do you believe in legend?"

Maybe before, I would've tossed a retort, but I oblige Concordia a plaintive moment. Unflustered, I nod.

"It takes a dreamer or an idealist to believe in myth and legend," Anthea says, not unkindly. "I'm surprised… not many people wish to look beyond the present and the painful."

My heart tightens; I disregard the pitying look on Concordia's face.

I repeat: "What are you two doing here?"

"If you pray in the Guidance Chamber inside this cave, you can atone for your sins," says Concordia, closing her eyes. "Team Plasma… has made a lot of mistakes, which were and are inexcusable. We want to make amends."

When I don't respond, Anthea takes a deep breath and steps forward.

"Rumours say that a young man is rounding up former Team Plasma members and delivering them to Agent Looker at the Interpol," she says quietly. "A young man operating from the shadows of anonymity."

Concordia joins Anthea's side, as though they were operating on the same wavelength.

"If you must arrest us, we won't resist," says Concordia, in a strained tone. "You must be feeling so angry, so outraged by what Team Plasma did… You have every right."

Despite the roil of emotion, I sigh and turn away from them. Thoughts feel as constricting as a tourniquet, but I'm fucking done.

"I'm not gonna arrest you."

Anthea's eyes widen, while Concordia relaxes with relief.

"But why? We are -"

"- Are not one of the Seven Sages." I interrupt. "My agenda was to capture the Sages, nothing more. You two weren't part of that upper leadership team."

Surprise blossoms over their faces; Anthea and Concordia remain silent for a minute, ruminating in what I said.

"But why… are you showing mercy?" murmurs Concordia, after a long pause.

I glance at the ceiling; the moon is pregnant with promise and purpose. Somewhere else in the world, she's under the same sky as me, watching the same constellations…

My reply is succinct: "I'm creating a better tomorrow."

.

/+/+/+/+/+/+/

.

Impatiently, Cheren tapped his watch. Close to him bustled platoons of sailors, who lugged cargo from the nearby marina. While the fresh scent of salt and seaspray strayed around him, Cheren noticed the tranquil ocean-waves rise to greet the mollusced hulls of large freight-ships. Sails billowed like flags in the wind. Without question, Driftveil City had one of the most scenic harbours in Unova, and Cheren knew that if he wasn't exasperated due to circumstances outside his control, he otherwise might have enjoyed his idyllic surroundings. Cheren was far from relaxed, however. The opposite, if anything.

"If she makes me wait one more minute, I swear…" Cheren muttered to himself.

"Cheren! Sorry, sorry for being late!"

As Cheren scowled, a recognisable blonde dashed towards him. Between her bob haircut and her oversized glasses, Bianca resembled a school librarian. She was even wearing an unflattering, orange cardigan which accentuated this dowdy image. He harrumphed when Bianca raced up to him, panting with exhaustion.

"Gimme a minute — gah." Bianca coughed. "I think I have a stitch… ow, ow, ow! Not a good idea to run in heels."

"You're forty minutes late," said Cheren irritably.

"I'm sorry!" said Bianca, almost squeaking. "My sofa broke, and I was worried that was an omen, so I was consulting an Astrology textbook, but then Professor Juniper said 'Bianca, you're a scientist: please behave like one', so I then got worried I was doing adult life all wrong —"

Cheren massaged his temples. "Forget that I asked."

"Which direction are we going?" Bianca hoisted her satchel. "You should lead the way this time: I don't want us to get lost, like we did in Nimbasa City."

While Cheren guided them away from the marina, Bianca prattled about her new job as Professor Juniper's Assistant ("It's more than just 'pick up Pokémon droppings', I promise"). Before much time passed, they arrived at their destination: the Pokémon World Tournament. Black marble comprised the tall columns, which buttressed a scintillating dome - one the size of two football fields. Gleaming like sapphires, teal paneling encrusted the walls. An atmosphere of majesty emanated from all angles. Cheren and Bianca shared a sense of apprehension, as they entered the building.

The inside was just as opalescent as the exterior. Underneath a crystalline chandelier thronged various luminaries, whose chrome Pokéballs and ball-gowns intimated a sense of magnitude. Treading over the plush carpet, Cheren and Bianca headed to the registration desk, where an official squatted in an armchair. With his short stature and oversized tuxedo, the man reminded Cheren of a Piplup. Not the most intimidating first impression.

"Yes? How may I help you?" asked the official.

Cheren adjusted his glasses. "We're here to register for the World Tournament. I was told to meet up with Marlon from the Humilau City Gym-"

"Dude, you made it! Finally!"

Vaulting towards Cheren was a striking and unusual figure, which stuck out from the opulent crowd. Indeed, the person in question was shirtless, exhibiting broad shoulders and tan torso. And he was as tall as any male model. Beads of sweat dripped down his collarbone, down his defined stomach, and down his tight swimming trunks. Bright eyes shone blue on an angular face, which broke into a bright smile. While Bianca sputtered and stared at the swimmer like an oaf, Cheren decided that the man had the white teeth of a dentist's commercial.

Pretty, perfect, proportionate teeth. What a show-off, thought Cheren disdainfully.

Oblivious to Cheren and Bianca's reactions to him, the swimmer beamed. Carefree, he slapped Cheren on the back.

"What took you so long, dude?" asked the swimmer. "I was waiting for ages — you worried me."

Cheren was focussing on somebody else, though. Next to him, Bianca was gawking at the swimmer, as though she were entranced. Cheren harrumphed with a hint of annoyance.

"Bianca," he said brusquely. "Please pick up your jaw from the floor. You look like a Magikarp."

Immediately, Bianca blushed. The swimmer grinned, before extending an open hand at Bianca.

"Hi, I'm Marlon," he said. "You must be… Bianca? Cheren wasn't lying about you: you're an absolutely stunner."

When Marlon kissed the back of Bianca's hand, Cheren resisted the urge to gag. This urge to gag compounded with the urge to vomit, which soured at the sight of Marlon winking at a sputtering Bianca. Despite the pinpricks of annoyance, Cheren schooled his features into an impassive expression.

"Can you not? We're in public," he told Marlon. "You've now been a Gym Leader for more than six months. Show some decorum and dignity."

Marlon gave Cheren a sheepish look. "Sorry, dude. Old habits, you know?"

The stumpy official waddled from behind the registration desk and shuffled towards Marlon.

"Do you know these two?" asked the official.

"Yeah, this is Cheren, the new Gym Leader of Aspertia City." Marlon beamed. "And the pretty girl with the beret is Bianca Weisz — Professor Juniper's assistant."

The official squinted at Cheren. "Will you be participating in the preliminary qualifiers for the World Tournament?"

"We don't wanna miss our chance at battling the best of the best in Pokémon battling!" announced Bianca, after she wiped the lovestruck flush from her face. "Are the rumours true? Lance and the Indigo League are here? Brock and Misty too?"

"The Kanto Contingent has already arrived, yes," the official said, nodding. "The Sinnoh Contingent are here too. If you turn to the end of the lobby, you can see Champion Dawn and former Champion Cynthia —"

"We can finish registrations later!" Marlon interrupted loudly, as Bianca blanched at the mention of Cynthia's name. "C'mon, I'll show you guys the champagne display. There's wine from Kalos, the good stuff…"

Before the official could say anything more, Marlon escorted Cheren and Bianca away from the registration desk. Once they were in a more secluded part of the entrance hall, Marlon stopped. A strange, pitying look flickered over his face, like static on a television screen.

"I'm sorry for that," he said quietly. "The League told me that Cynthia was not gonna attending the World Tournament, but then she suddenly cut her Sinjoh Expedition short -"

"She has a right to be here, as much as anybody else." Bianca interrupted, her voice shaking. "A former Champion… she has an open invite."

Cheren's expression softened. "Bianca…"

Even through the clittering and clattering of champagne glasses, Cheren could hear Bianca make a small sound which sounded suspiciously like a strangled sob. Awkwardly, Marlon shuffled his feet.

"I thought I was okay with hearing about her again," said Bianca, wringing her wrists. "It's been years since the Undella Incident. I should be okay… oh, why am I…?"

She trailed off, when Cheren touched her shoulder. For a second, Bianca looked at him with a shattering expression, as though emotion threatened to fracture over her glassy eyes. She retained her composure, though. Instead, Bianca leaned into Cheren, who instinctively brushed the nape of her neck.

Marlon didn't say anything. Tensing, he scratched the bridge of his nose and coughed. Although Marlon averted his gaze and stared at the floor, Cheren knew that Marlon felt uncomfortable in the silence.

"Cheren." Marlon finally spoke; his hesitation was tangible. "How's his mother? You never talk about her, and the news channels rarely mention her."

An anxious beat swished in Cheren's heart, which thudded against his ribcage. He breathed slowly.

"She… has been struggling," he said quietly. "No matter what people say, a parent shouldn't outlive her child."

Scrunching his shirt, Bianca raised her head. Although her eyes were red and puffy, a steely resolve glinted from her expression, like a dagger.

"'Outlive'? He's not dead," she said. "We never found a body, remember?"

Cheren's posture stiffened. "Bianca…"

"He's not gone," said Bianca loudly, daring anybody to question her. "Just like Zekrom, he'll be back, I know it."

Wiping her cheeks with her sleeve, Bianca donned a bright smile which Cheren speculated wasn't entirely sincere. She nodded, as if she wanted to convince herself of a supposed truth.

"He's the Hero of Unova," said Bianca firmly. "No matter what anybody says, I know he wouldn't turn his back on his friends. It's not idealism; it's the truth."

"I agree."

Marlon, Cheren, and Bianca turned at the sound of a soft voice. A voluptuous woman sauntered towards them. Lissom legs glimpsed out of the subtle slit of a black ball-gown, which glittered like obsidian. Ranging from the blonde tresses curled into some kind of elegant knot to the lilac blush on an angular face, the woman resembled a runway model. This effortless elegance belied a sharpness, however. Indeed, the woman's pale eyes had an unwavering quality that unsettled Cheren. Her gaze gleamed like granite.

A brown stone gleamed from her ring, as she extended her hand to Marlon.

"Marlon, is it?" she asked gently. "My name is Cynthia Chard, from the Sinnoh Delegation. I don't believe that we've met before."

After an apprehensive Marlon shook her hand, Cynthia looked at Cheren and Bianca. A raw emotion rippled over her expression, which then settled into a polished serenity.

"Congratulations on becoming the new Gym Leader of Aspertia City," said Cynthia politely. "Lucian tells me that you'll be specialising in Normal-types?"

Cheren clenched his jaw. Instinctively, he drew Bianca closer towards him, as though he wanted to protect her.

A silent beat thrummed through them. While Bianca eyed Cynthia with a mixture of pain and trepidation, the blonde Champion took a deep breath.

"I didn't know the Hero of Unova for a long time." Cynthia started. "Perhaps a week at most. For most of our time together, he was impetuous, judgmental, and even callous."

Cheren felt Bianca twitch next to him; Cynthia continued to speak.

"But when he let down his guard, he was kind," she said, closing her eyes. "Even after everything that he had witnessed, he still wished for a better tomorrow."

"A 'better tomorrow'?" asked Marlon.

"H-He was a softie underneath all that gruff and snark," answered Bianca, trembling. "I-I could tell he wanted to cry, but he didn't wanna make any of us feel uncomfortable."

Her gaze softening, Cynthia stepped towards Bianca.

"The Devon Corporation speaks of another world, a world where Mega-Evolution doesn't exist," she said quietly. "An alternate dimension and timeline where the great Kalosian War never occured. I'd like to think that in another universe, he is out there… searching for N."

Despite Cheren's best attempts, something harsh clanged inside his thoughts, which rattled like an old film-recorder: one memory, back in Nimbasa City, next to a Ferris Wheel that spun around and around -

"We were meant to have Castelia Cones," blurted Cheren.

The reaction was instant. While Bianca regarded him with tangible pity, Marlon gaped. Cynthia had a different response, however. Nothing in her demeanour changed, except her fingers drifted to the brown-stone ring. If Cheren wasn't paying attention to her, he may not have even noticed.

"He and I were meant to go to the Nimbasa Amusement Park," said Cheren, staring at the floor. "The food cart next to Elesa's Rollercoaster sells Castelia Cones, which he said were 'the best dessert in town'."

Cheren murmured, "He was such a kid in that way."

"Oh…. he was gonna buy me one with the strawberry sprinkles," said Bianca fondly. "He remembered my favourite flavour, even from all those years ago."

For some odd reason, Cheren's legs felt weak, as though the energy holding up his bones was dissipating. His head was foggy, when Cynthia touched his arm and supported him. As he opened his mouth to speak, Cheren heard his voice crack like a mirror's edge.

"Do you think…" Cheren stopped, trying to recompose himself. "Do you truly believe that in another world, another dimension…?"

Cynthia's reply was muted but resolute: "Yes, I do. He's the Hero of Unova."

.

/+/+/+/+/+/+/

.

Mount Silver is far away from Unova, but I'm not surprised that he chose to travel all that distance. You can't live under the same sky, after all. Snow flurries every inch in front of me, and the crags of Mount Silver seems to loom around me like slumbering titans. Fingers of sunrise struggle to break through the curtain of sleet. This is the location of Red and Gold's famed meeting.

It's only fair that this mountain is where I finally meet him again.

Pelts of wind upheave his green hair, which almost hides his tense face. He turns away from me.

"How did you even find me?" he finally says. "I thought that I had flown sufficiently far away… that you would never have to see me again."

Fury pulses through me. I resist the urge to punch him. Instead of kicking him, I swallow my breath and force a greeting.

"Good to see you too, N."

He doesn't respond to me, which spikes my anger into eruption. I clench my gloves into fists.

"You fucker," I mutter. "You have nothing else to say to me?"

As N moves away from me, I launch forward, grab his shoulder, and yank him back towards me. His cheeks are pink against the biting cold. The only colour in his wallowed face.

"What more do you want me to say?" N says quietly. "An apology won't suffice, not with you. You expect and deserve far more than that. I don't know what to say to you…"

"A 'hello' would be a start."

Limply, N slumps against my hands, which tighten around the collar of his shirt. He glances to the side with a listlessness that reminds me of death-row. When he stares at the snow-treaden floor, irritation courses through me.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I hoist N. "This isn't you, at least not the you that I know."

"Neither of us are the people who we used to know," says N.

Frost gnaws against the exposed flesh of my neck, which tingles as though shivers of needles are beginning to thread there. Pain uncurls at this moment. As I loosen my grip on him, N pulls away and staggers back.

"Why did you look for me?" he asks, shying his gaze from me.

Time to give him the official response. A story that I had rehearsed for days and days.

"My intel says that Zinzolin of the Seven Sages is attempting to reorganise Team Plasma," I recite with the stilted dialogue for a teleprompter. "He wishes to harness the power of the Ice Legendary Kyurem to freeze Unova, and I need you help me stop him — "

N shears through my facade; his voice is soft but terse:

"What's the real reason why you're looking for me?"

Hesitation tempers my emotions. For a brief second, I contemplate spitting out the rehearsed story again, but I brace myself; the truth is never easy.

"I wanted to see what I'd do to you when I saw you again," I say reluctantly. "Whether I'd punch you, scream at you for what you did… I wanted to know for sure what it'd be like to meet you… after what happened."

"And what's your answer?"

"I don't know," I admit. "Part of me wants to hate you. The part that remembers what you did, when you summoned Reshiram."

N wince. "The other part?"

I glance at the sky above, from which spills diamond-dust. From a distance, the snow falls like ash. I close my eyes and shake my head.

"Another part of me…" I say. "Another part wants to get to know you again."

His eyes widen, as N leans against a sleet-covered rock. Maybe he doesn't expect this answer, out of all possibilities.

"But why?"

When I sigh, my warm breath coalesces in front of me, before dispersing as a mist. I pause for a second, gathering my disparate thoughts into something more substantive.

"Do you remember the Ferris Wheel at Nimbasa City?" I ask.

N gives me an impassive look, which reveals nothing. I know he's listening, though. He remembers.

"We took a carriage together, and you said something to me on there," I say carefully. "You said we could be friends."

N's reply is almost inaudible: "I said a lot of lunatic things."

Despite the situation and the circumstance, I snicker. "Yeah, you did."

Stepping forward, I extend a hand at N. He stares at it with equal parts revulsion and amazement.

"If humans and Pokémon can be friends, why can't we?"

N doesn't respond immediately. A second passes, though, and a small smile whispers at the edges of his mouth. His eyes appear wet, even in the blistering blizzard.

"Why are you smiling?" I ask N, when he takes my hand.

"Can't you tell?" N points at the golden horizon. "It's now dawn."

.

/fin./