》Oh, child of the sun, you’re not him.Not the father who beat me.Not the friend who banished me.Not the oath that strangled me.You are not my enemy.《

  The cream burned like fire. Every cell in his body screamed under the bruises, red welts, and his infmed back that Mollie had noticed with a gasp. Simultaneously, there was this strange odour in the air; a yellow liquid she wiped from his shoulder bdes with a cloth. Still, she didn’t ask questions.

  Clutching his fingers in his trouser legs, he gritted his teeth to swallow the pinpricks. Friede was missing. Mollie had sent him away after Natural had refused to take off his top. The shame of exposing those nasty parts of his body to several people had stopped him.

  “The cream will cool your injuries.” Out of nowhere, Mollie snapped him out of his thoughts. “It will take a while to heal, and ... there will be scars.” With nimble fingers, she put a bandage on him. “I’ll watch the wounds. The bandage needs to be changed every day, and before putting on new ones, we need to leave them off for at least two hours to dry any new wet spots.”

  He nodded with difficulty. Medicine and first aid were beyond his knowledge. Anthea and Concordia had always been responsible for his health and care at the castle.

  “Take this.” Once again, Mollie pulled him out of his thoughts as she pressed some lozenges into his hand. “They’ll ease the pain and bring down the fever.”

  “Thank you.” His voice just a whisper, Natural shoved himself back into his clothes.

  The bandages constricted him, his body ached, and the overpowering fatigue still clung to him. But the few hours of sleep were enough to keep him from succumbing to the weakness. This time it seemed easier to get up and walk through the door outside, where Friede awaited him.

  “All right?” Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he raised a brow. “Was Mollie able to help?”

  Instead of answering, he nodded gently, so Friede pushed off the wall and fell into line beside him. A strangely friendly gesture he only knew from his stepsisters. They had brought him to bed every day, always accompanying him from the dining hall to his room.

  “You don’t have to do ... this,” Natural finally said. “I feel well enough to find the way back on my own.”

  “I guess so, but my room’s right next door, so there’s no harm in going together, is there?” A grin spread across Friede’s features as Naturals’ eyes widened. “If I hadn’t been right next door, I wouldn’t have heard your screams.”

  He opened his mouth in a fsh, only to close it silently. The blurred image shortly after he had woken up became clearer. This man had been checking on him because he had been shouting. Moaning and frightened enough to hit someone else half asleep.

  His eyelids drooped. “Did I ... say something when I ... screamed?”

  For a moment, Friede stared at him. His senses seemed to grasp something, to read and interpret the words, which Natural only noticed out of the corner of his eye but didn’t understand. His companion remained too unclear, too strange, and too suspicious with all his help and offers.

  “No,” Friede finally replied. “Not a word.”

  A sound of relief rolled over Naturals’ lips and yet remained so silent that it only buzzed in his ears. If he hadn’t said anything, he wouldn’t be ambushed with any more questions. The quiet that prevailed would remain, and he would have time to think. He had to sort out the circumstances, compose himself, and leave this ship as quickly as possible so as not to be a burden to anyone. On top, he had to find people he could trust. Souls he chose and not people like Friede, who surprised him with kindness as if it were normal. It wasn’t. Most demanded something in return.

  Like his father, like all of Team Psma, like the elders, and maybe even like Domino – even if the tter had been in the right. Everyone was acting with an ulterior motive, and part of him didn’t want to know what Friede was pursuing.

  When they arrived outside his room, the darkness behind the door seemed to promise salvation and torture all in one, so he paused on the threshold for a breath.

  “Hey, you’re sure everything’s fine?” Friede turned to him again, partway to his own room.

  Natural didn’t answer. In those blinks, he had no clue if the darkness where Zoroark waited for him half-asleep was really okay. Goosebumps pressed against his bandages. His heart pounded hard against his ribcage, and when he gnced at Friede, he met the warmth of his eyes once more.

  “Would you like me to stay for a while?” He reached a hand to the back of his head. “Until you’re asleep, and I’m sure the rest of the night will be quiet?”

  A tempting offer that also seemed dangerous. While he slept, it would be possible to do things to him against which resistance would be too te. He knew it from Ghetsis; from the evenings when his father had strangled him, driven by anger and frustrated by the wild behaviour he had often exhibited as a young boy. And he also knew it from his sisters, who had often undressed him in his sleep in order to treat his wounds and praise his supposedly good healing flesh the next day. When he slept, he opened all doors to violence and lies. And even if he deserved both, his mind refused to allow any more.

  Again, Natural gnced into the room. Compared to the days in the castle, there was a difference. Zoroark was curled up in a corner, his ears perked on alert. If Friede tried anything, there would be a friend. A helping hand he could rely on.

  The certainty dulled the fear. If he inserted Zoroark into this consteltion, he would be safe. And with Friede, he might conquer the nightmares for a few hours.

  Still, his voice sounded parched. “If it’s ... no trouble.”

  “Absolutely not!” Hands on hips, Friede sauntered back in his direction. “No big deal.”

  For this man, there seemed to be no limit and no reason to distrust others. He followed him into the room, into the darkness, which Natural didn’t even try to dispel with the light switch. Friede simply pulled out his Rotom Phone and switched on the fshlight – a natural action in an unnatural situation with better options and no way out.

  Just as Natural was about to settle down next to Zoroark, however, Friede grabbed him by the arm. “Hey, you shouldn’t sleep on the floor.”

  “It’s the most natural way to rest,” Natural replied tonelessly. It probably wasn’t for a human, but it was better than reliving the memories that came to him between soft fabric and warm bnkets.

  “Your injuries must be bad, considering Mollie spent an entire hour on you,” he said. Mouth twisted, Friede lowered his eyelids. “I can understand your discomfort here, but it’s important you give your body a chance to recover. The bed is your best bet, and if you’re afraid of anything, I’ll be there to help.” He pced a hand ft on his chest. “Trust me, you’re not alone.”

  Had he ever been? Alone and unobserved?

  In all his years, someone had watched him. In the forest, it had been his friends, making sure nothing happened to him. In the castle, it had sometimes been Zoroark, on particurly bad days. Occasionally his two stepsisters, who only wanted the best for him. Rarely even his father, den with cruel stories of the mistreatment of the Pokémon, until he had slipped into nightmares. Every day, every hour, someone had watched him – unspoken promises he had never agreed to and yet had somehow taken for granted.

  “If there’s a problem ... wake me up, please.” Still, Natural shuffled to the bed to lie between the beguilingly soft fabrics.

  Friede, meanwhile, sat down in front of the bed. “Leave it to me!”

  In the next moment, the light of Rotom went out, and only the presence of another flickered over Natural’s skin. The strangely heavy feeling that there was someone else in this room, scrutinising the bckness and making no sound, fluttered unpleasantly in his stomach.

  “Why ... are you being so nice to me? I have little to give and offer no information. My existence as a human doesn’t promise any interesting research like Pokémon do, and you don’t know the first thing about me.” He buried his hands in the pillow. “I’ve learnt that most humans have little humanity.”

  “Did you find that out for yourself? That most humans are like that?”

  “I don’t know.” Natural swallowed.

  He was level-headed enough to know that Ghetsis had been inhuman at times – at least at the moment he had killed Liepard. But his stepsisters and Domino and the nice baker at the Pokémon Center, as well as Nurse Joy, had been very welcoming. Much friendlier than Unova’s actors and much more honest than all those who sent their Pokémon into battle with a smile and cimed there was no other way around it.

  “Some of them are. Others of them aren’t. I ... can’t say who’s in the majority. But it feels like it’s the inhuman ones.”

  “Because bad things stick in our memories.” Friede’s sigh pierced through the darkness. “The human brain isn’t a friendly companion. It twists our surroundings and trips us up when least needed.”

  Natural let out a melodic hum. He didn’t know about influences within himself. Ghetsis had never wasted time with these things. There had only ever been the same teachings: humans are cruel to Pokémon, taking advantage of them and sending them to their deaths – just as humans do to each other. Deceit and deception went hand in hand.

  “To come back to your question ... what I get out of helping you is a clear conscience.” Barely audible ughter rippled through the room. “I’m just not the type to abandon someone in need if there’s something I can do.”

  “That’s it?”

  “If I can think of anything else, you’ll be the first to know.”

  It was something he should take seriously, sit up and ask, but part of him thought he saw Friede smile at those words. Like a joke that needed no further expnation because the truth already stood between them. It was hard to understand, but the tingling sensation on his skin faded and the fluttering in his stomach subsided. His body wanted to trust. His mind followed suit.

  Slowly, Natural closed his eyes. Every fibre in him rexed, and when he thought he saw someone standing at the other end of the bckness, he started running. Somehow and then again, somehow not. The only thing he realised after a few metres was that someone was turning their back on him. Someone was turning away from him. So he stopped. Then he reached out and heard his father’s voice.

  “You disappoint me, Harmonia.”

  》HARMONIA《

  When he opened his eyes, his lids felt as heavy as lead. Exhaustion still ate away at his nerves, and yet sober realisation lurked above him. In those breaths, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, Ghetsis seemed a little less understandable. A little more like a vilin and yet still no less like a father.

  A sigh washed over him at the thought. Thinking about this retionship wasn’t the adventure he had imagined. Somewhere in the middle of all his ideas, the image of seeing the world and showing Ghetsis that Psma was wrong had arisen. In that way, everyone would experience a slight change; they would start in the right pces, and everything would have a happy ending. No more beatings. No more rage. Liepard would still be alive, and he would make lots of new friends.

  Wishful thinking. Nothing but wishful thinking.

  Sluggishly, Natural sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with both hands. Then his gaze fell on Friede – on his rexed figure leaning against the edge of the bed, still asleep. Natural pushed forward with a barely perceptible movement, took one look at his face, and opened his mouth. There were no words. Instead, he watched this stranger.

  He looked at the closed eyes with the short, bck eyeshes; the slightly raised corners of his mouth with its gentle smile. Each quiet breath gave him the appearance of a safe haven – a little like the quiet depths of the sea and the warm embrace of the world.

  Natural swallowed. His heart beat firmly against his ribs, as if it wanted to come out. A bit like all those moments when he had fallen in love with something. With Zoroark’s mischievousness, when he had still been a Zorua. With Domino, his first conversation partner outside of Psma. And right now, with Friede.

  Raising his brows, he moved a little closer to hear his soft snoring. It sounded throaty, like the bumpy purr of a Purugly, but it had charm.

  “Why are you smiling?” Zoroark’s question pulled him out of his little world, causing Natural to throw himself back on the pillow and put a hand over his mouth. The strangely mispced joy had actually crept up to his lips.

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “Looking at him ... I liked it.”

  “Because he’s fascinating?”

  His shoulders tensed. He had never seen another person sleeping. Maybe that’s why Friede seemed so vulnerable and safe at the same time. So he nodded.

  “Friede is a good guy,” Zoroark reminded him. “You should try to trust him. Just like you did with Domino. Then we’ll soon be able to spook other people, and we’ll even have a sidekick!”

  “What makes you so sure that I can trust him?”

  His friend gently tapped his nose. “I can smell it, you know that.”

  He did, and yet he had never once trusted his friend’s sense of smell. Zoroark had never seen anything good in Ghetsis, and he had also disliked some members of Psma. Yet Natural had always pleaded for the good in them – trust that hadn’t been repaid. Perhaps it was better, for once, to believe that Zoroark knew better than he. Still...

  “Do I need any more friends besides you and all the other Pokémon in the world?”

  “Who knows?” Zoroark shrugged. “Maybe it’ll come in handy one day.”

  A snort overcame Natural. People were as different as night and day, he could only keep reminding himself. But his father’s teachings remained unshakeable; Ghetsis’ action against Liepard as well. The certainty that all these things were normal and yet didn’t feel right, while in some breaths he thought he saw his father in the faces of other men, choked his throat. His eyes burned. How did one gain confidence in a world whose appearance seemed cruel?

  Everything Domino had said seemed like a fairy tale – and then again, like reality. Zoroark believed in the good. Friede conveyed the image of a decent human being. The Pokémon in this pce were happy. All he had to do was open up and embrace this change – but there were clouds in his head. Liepard had been shot because of him. His body suffered from all the wounds he had deserved – somehow. And among the Rising Volt Tacklers, he seemed like a shadow of a man he wanted to be and wasn’t.

  The tired murmur of another ended the thoughts. Friede’s eyelids fluttered slightly, and as he stretched his arms and his shoulders cracked, Natural sat up. In the next blink, Friede gnced over his shoulder to utter a yawed “Good morning”. A simple gesture that made Natural’s heart leap before he returned the irrelevant greeting.

  “Did you get some sleep?” Leaning forward, Friede scratched the back of his head. “I have to admit, I was out fast.”

  “A little, thank you.”

  “Shall we go to breakfast? Of course, only after Mollie has changed your bandages and I’ve,” he sniffed his bck jumper briefly, “had a shower...”

  “You have set times for these things?” In Team Psma, people always ate when it was convenient – apart from the canteen at headquarters, where very few people ever found peace.

  “No.” Friede waved him off. “But if we need something, Murdock is happy to do it. He loves cooking and baking. Without him, the kitchen on this ship would probably only be half as good, and we’d all be a bit more hectic on a day-to-day basis to master cooking.” A ugh escaped him. “Murdock is our lifesaver when it comes to food.”

  Natural struggled to smile. Friede’s story sounded marvellous. Harmonious enough to tear tiny holes into the dark clouds and shed some light.

  “Breakfast sounds great.”