My shoulders tense, and I keep my eyes firmly on Amethio. He has positioned himself a few metres away, ready to fight me. A month has passed since our last attempt, and I’ve spent most of it training. Sometimes with Zir. Sometimes with Conia. In between, there’s been little information about the Rising Volt Tacklers, who haven’t moved for a while now.

  Amethio wants to give them time to see what happens. He’s making us wait, with the expectation we’ll be on to them next year if nothing has happened by then. That means cold winter months on Paldea. I really need to stock up on clothes.

  A brief pain jerks through my palm. The next moment, I blink, take a breath, and grab Ying’s Poké Ball. Not only have I used my free time to train, but Amethio’s words have also given me new ideas. Pain temporarily distracts me from my thoughts, allowing me to sort myself out and focus on a single thing when my senses drift off. That’s why I pinch the palm of my hand. There won’t be a scene like last time.

  With a clean throw, I release Ying from her ball. In the next blink, she’s facing Ceruledge. It seems almost like last time, when everything started and I didn’t find a foothold. This time, too, Amethio gives me the chance to start. The same approach, the same way of fighting a battle. The only difference is that I won’t let Ying down today. She is all that matters in this battle.

  “Ying, night daze!” Raising my voice, I accept his invitation and open our battle the same way I did the first time.

  Immediately, dark energy seeps through Ying’s fur, settling on her like a dark storm before she flings her arms to the side and the darkness dissipates from her body. Within seconds, her energy spills over to Ceruledge, but misses it as it sinks into self-made shadows with the help of its phantom force. Ying’s night daze merely tugs at Amethio’s clothes.

  But instead of being distracted, my eyes wander around the room. Every unevenness is scrutinised. Anything near my Zoroark that could work as a sore spot, I keep an eye on – until restless wafting appears next to her.

  “Ying, block!”

  Her ears twitch. Then Zoroark whirls around, powerful paws raised just in time to fend off her opponent’s blades with red claws. The clink of their clash hurts my teeth, but doesn’t stop her from pushing Ceruledge off with force and lashing out.

  She smashes her paws powerfully against her foe’s armour, but leaves only three scratches that don’t go deep. It is just enough to send the Pokémon stumbling back.

  “Psycho cut!” With his open hand stretched out in our direction, Amethio doesn’t let himself lose his composure for a breath. He’s all business and although I’d like to keep him in sight, it’s a sharp stinging in my palm that draws my attention back to the fight.

  Our enemy’s razor-sharp energy is just coming off its swords with a flourish. It is the same moment Ying decides for herself and I clench my hands into fists. Immediately afterwards, the foreign force crashes against Ying’s claws. Instead of penetrating her or cutting through her, as it once did with Null, Ying braces herself against the attack. The dark waft of her body gathers around her claws, pressing against the psycho cut and blending with the soft violet colour, making it shimmer two shades darker. Then it shatters – engulfed by night daze that covers her opponent so darkly that neither Ceruledge nor Amethio can be seen.

  “Attack! This is your chance!” In a flash, my hand darts to the side. “Bite!”

  Before I’ve even finished my command, Ying charges forward. Her sharp teeth bared, she breaks through the darkness. The gloomy mist blows aside, revealing Ceruledge with swords raised as if expecting a body slam. Instead, Ying’s teeth crash against one of its blades. She bites down hard, not letting up even as Amethio’s partner lets out a huff of shock and tries to back away. Zoroark doesn’t give in.

  “Raise the temperature!”

  Contrary to my hopes, Amethio gets in the way of my victory. His quick action causes Ceruledge to heat up and Ying to loosen her bite. However, in the same instant, she lashes out with a paw, ready to drive her claws into her opponent’s armour once more.

  Bending its upper body backwards, Ceruledge dodges at the last moment while Amethio gives the order for night slash in the background. Immediately, it chases a sharp edge upwards from below to slice Ying halfway through the chest. The cry of pain escaping from her is akin to that of our first fight against Amethio. But this time, I grit my teeth and ignore the drops of blood spilling onto the floor.

  But there is no opportunity to counterattack. Ceruledge has disappeared. Its phantom force is quick, and any inattention has consequences I don’t want to imagine. Instead, I scan our surroundings again and Zoroark pricks up her ears.

  The silence that descends on us eats into my bones. My skin is pocked and the palpitations in my chest won’t let up. Sweat burns on my temples and yet I think I can detect an irregular movement in the middle of this room.

  So I call out to Ying, directing her attention to the spot which, in the blink of an eye, expands into a dark hole from which Ceruledge darts out, blades first. Unable to dodge in time and not quick enough to raise her arms, Zoroark stumbles backwards. Her opponent’s fiery sword passes her nose by a hair’s breadth with a sideways swing. The heat ruffles her fur, and yet she catches herself at the right moment to use Ceruledge’s momentum.

  While the Pokémon is still being pulled along by the side blow, Ying’s paw chases against Ceruledge’s head from the other side. The force of its attack combines with Zoroark’s counter-strike, intensifying its effect, and flinging Amethio’s partner aside.

  Tail puffed out and shoulders tightened, Ying turns to face me so quickly that her grey earring swings significantly. The gleam in her eyes and the slightly curled muzzle elicit a restrained laugh from me. Her injury fades into the background.

  “You did well,” I praise her. “That was foul play. The same attack Umbreon likes to use.”

  She raises her head before turning her attention back to her foe – an image that dims any sense of accomplishment. Ceruledge’s armour cracks, peels off, and appears as if new underneath. It looks as if a mirror has been broken, under which sits another mirror with much less damage than its predecessor.

  Its weak armour doesn’t allow us to cheer. We don’t even get to counter-react as it shoots forward and rams its arm into the side of Ying’s face in a flash. The force and impact of metal on bone pushes one of her legs to the side, but doesn’t knock her from the spot. Instead, she reaches for Ceruledge’s sword, holding that one blade so tightly between her claws that her low growl probably reverberates through her opponent’s body as well.

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  I want to see it as a sign to suggest a counterattack. But just as I open my mouth, I notice Ceruledge’s other sword. Pointing the tip at Ying’s stomach, it emphasises our position. One wrong move and it could impale her.

  “Damn.” Sighing, I put my hands on my hips. “Ying, you can stop.”

  She immediately releases her claws from the blade, causing Ceruledge to take two steps back. She doesn’t mind another defeat. Probably because nothing else but my skill is at issue in these seconds.

  “Well done.” Amethio, meanwhile, steps closer to position himself next to Ceruledge. “You did better than I expected.”

  “And I still lost.” Pursing my lips, I look up at him as if I could take a little more praise. Absolutely, I deserve a few kind words from him.

  “At this level, I’m sure I can rely on you for missions. That’s enough.” No smile. Not a single movement on his face to match his words. He just looks at me as if I’ve finally understood a few things that have passed me by before.

  Still, his words stir the Butterfrees in my stomach and elicit a probably stupid smile, which I try to hide as I avert my gaze. There’s nothing I can say except a strained “thank you”. After that, Ying’s treatment is more important than anything else.

  With a hyper potion, the wound closes as if it was never there and when I call her back into her ball to recover, she twitches her ears one last time in delight. She is still proud of her achievement and the warmth settling in my chest enjoys her triumph. It doesn’t matter that we lost. We were much better than last time and that’s all that matters.

  Afterwards, I turn to Amethio, who is already standing near the door. He’s waiting for me and there’s no need to ask why he’s not leaving me behind. It would be strange to take the same path separately.

  So I put my Poké Ball away and try not to keep him waiting any longer. Amethio’s attention only grazes me briefly before he opens the door for both of us and takes the lead. I silently fall into line after him until we have left the stairs behind us and can walk side by side in the corridor.

  It’s certainly not the first time I’ve wobbled alongside him. There has been more than one situation like this in Alola. But it’s probably the first time that my eyes keep darting over to him. There’s no racing heart, no nervousness. In these breaths, everything seems to be in the right place, as if I’ve found exactly where I belong. All that time by his side when he was ill has toughened me up a bit and now I no longer have to prove anything to him. There’s nothing lurking behind his facade that wants to get rid of me. His compliment still rests warmly on my shoulders. He now trusts in my ability, and I will pull myself together if necessary. It’s confidence I can’t let down; and even though that’s probably another hurdle I’d usually rack my brains over, I keep a straight face.

  I can’t keep throwing myself into worries that I can’t control. If it comes down to proving my worth to Amethio in a fight, then I’ll do everything in my power. Here and now, however, none of that has any place. The only thing that matters in these blinks is him, close by my side. His hand seems reachable and his stubbornly forward gaze gives me all the space I need to scrutinise him. Just like that. Because there’s something about his face that gives me a strange sense of security.

  With my hands clasped behind my back, I try to concentrate on the path in front of us so I don’t somehow attract attention. And I don’t allow myself to be distracted again until we reach the lift. But in the confined space, it’s impossible not to look at his gloved fingers and imagine what it would be like if I secretly slipped my own between his. Here, where no one can see it and where we can both pretend it never happened.

  It’s a wishful idea that won’t take shape, I’m aware of that. Still, it remains a thought that pulls the corners of my mouth upward and forces me to clench my hands a little tighter.

  The lift takes us down one floor, where the corridors look exactly like the ones above us. Only Conia, laden with two shopping bags and an annoyed groan on her lips, brings a breath of fresh air to our surroundings.

  “Conia?” Raising my brows, I walk out first. The few steps it takes to reach her push Amethio to the back of my mind. “Are you alright?”

  She looks up at once, doesn’t seem to notice me in her first breath, and then waves me off in a flash. Within a second, she takes a stance, straightens her shoulders and greets Amethio with a curt “Sir”. He doesn’t react, remains standing next to me, and looks at her blankly. It’s a language Conia understands better than I ever will, so she turns to me again.

  “It’s nothing. It’s just really hard to find vegetables other than pumpkins at the moment. That stuff is everywhere.” She sighs. “And it’s still over a week until Halloween. And then there’s all the stuff to decorate...”

  Halloween. A folk custom that can be found in many regions. I don’t know much about it, I’ve hardly studied the subject, but it’s one of the few basic pieces of information that have stuck in my head. It’s a custom that can be traced back to martyrs of old who got into countless conflicts because they believed in more gods than Arceus – even the belief in a human god far above Arceus. It’s a mystery to me how this could turn into a day for candy and scary costumes, but I like the creativity that people put into a day like this.

  Even better, on an evening like this, some towns supposedly honour little Pumpkaboos that secretly make all the pumpkins they put up disappear on the first of November.

  “Why don’t we make some nice things with pumpkins for Halloween? I’m sure there are some great recipes out there and we could cut up what we don’t eat ... the shell ... and display it. Maybe ... as a sort of time together because we haven’t done anything as a team for a long time...” The suggestion rolls over my lips faster than I can stop myself.

  “Such things have no place in the Explorers.” Amethio doesn’t even let my words sink in before he smashes them down and shoves them out of the way.

  I can understand him, I really can. Seeing him in a costume, snacking on some sweets, and getting into a good scary mood is unimaginable. But none of this is obligatory. Just some decorations and tasty snacks that we can all eat together because we haven’t been in the same room for far too long would be Halloween enough for me. It would be my first lovely holiday memory I hope no one snatches out of my hands.

  “We don’t have to make a big deal out of it,” I try again, this time addressing Amethio directly. Tilting my head, I raise my eyebrows and smile wryly. Everything about me is probably screaming “please”, but all that escapes him is a soft sigh as he lowers his eyelids.

  “It’s a waste of time.” His eyes pierce me again. “We need to focus on the Rising Volt Tacklers and pay attention to what’s happening in Hoenn at Hamber’s request.”

  He doesn’t even want to get into a discussion as he takes one more look at Conia and then goes on his way. In his world, we don’t have time for fun things that don’t move us forward – or at least do something beneficial for the Explorers. I probably don’t even need to mention to him that Christmas is less than two months away and that we could sit down together for a day and just pretend there isn’t a problem in the world.

  When Conia’s hand comes out of nowhere and rests on my shoulder, I can’t help but push my lower lip forward and cross my arms in front of my chest. Then I look at her, not sure what to say.

  “I understand you,” Conia takes up the subject. “But Amethio isn’t interested in festivities or celebrations. Things like that ... just don’t bother him.”

  “It just would have been nice,” I reply. “Maybe a day like this would do him good, too. Who knows?” The idea growing inside me is far from good, but vaguely sharing it with her can’t be wrong. “Besides, he just said it was a waste of time. I didn’t hear a ‘no’.”

  Conia’s hand slips from my shoulder. “He certainly wouldn’t be thrilled about us starting any kind of preparation behind his back. But-”

  “Maybe he’ll like it in the end,” I interrupt her. “Besides, negatives aside ... think of the positives. We could send Lillie some pictures. Golduck in a Halloween costume might even look cute. And not to forget, Halloween is also a time for spookiness and pranks. We shouldn’t go too far, but ... wouldn’t you be interested to see how Amethio reacts when we scare him?”

  Her gaze lingers on me as if I’ve opened some forbidden door, the threshold of which is best not crossed. But instead of trying to stop me from bringing a bit of Halloween into these quarters, she merely blinks a few times and opens her mouth wordlessly.

  The mischievous smile on my lips should probably be banned, but only the thought of seeing a completely different side of Amethio entices me. “And ... think of all the good food you could make. New dishes you’ve always wanted to try. Plus some sweets I can get you. All combined in a cosy room that Hamber will surely cede to us when we tell him we have a terribly important meeting. It’s just one evening. A few hours. Who can take that away from us?”

  Conia barely dares to nod, but her words are clear. “I’ll let Zir know.”