Espeon’s fur—and supposedly, espeon fur in general—is exceptionally delicate. Brushing him is something that’s going to become necessary as his coat finishes growing back in. He’s even soft enough now that petting him is enjoyable on its own. Especially when I can feel him relaxing, the psychic sending me a contented feeling the whole time, although I’m not the one petting him.

  “You almost make me wish I’d pushed myself to stay on the ranger track,” Katie beams, rubbing the still-underweight feline’s cheeks, “Maybe then I’d have found you instead.” She’s been loving on Espeon non-stop as she slowly lays out her entertainment for her night off. “So… how did things go with the professors?”

  “Well enough,” I reply, flipping to the next page in the integration guide, “Misdreavus was a bit stressed by the end…” And they still refused to bring it up to me.

  Hmm, most of what’s in here is just the basic stuff. The kind of things I already went over on Misdreavus’ first day. The section on occupations, hobbies, and pastimes is probably the most important thing left for them.

  Concern.

  Looking up at Espeon’s message, I see Katie giving me a small frown. “What is it?”

  “It’s nothing… Or, well, are you sure you’re handling Misdreavus… proper?” She slipped into Unovan at the end there.

  “No,” I admit, putting the book down. “The problem…” I shake my head, “It’s honestly a few different things, but the first is that Misdreavus simply doesn’t engage half the time. And pushing them on that– They’re acting so far outside what we expected that trying to change that feels… dangerous.”

  “It’s been, what? A month since you first went out to see them?” Katie asks, looking away as she goes back to petting Espeon. “I think you’re safe there.”

  “Probably,” I agree, “But then there’s the next issue, I don’t know enough about them as a person. That one’s a bit harder to fix when they won’t talk to me despite the fact I keep trying to nudge them toward it.”

  Katie grudgingly nods at that, “Yeah, I know, I’ve tried too. Still, I can’t help thinking that’s your Kanto upbringing talking. All reserve and such.”

  But I suppose she’s never been to Kanto. “You say that, but I had a pretty even mix between that and Unova. You’re saying I should try being aggressively friendly?”

  “It seems to have worked for Weaver.”

  That’s true, “But you know that’s different,” I reply. “I was thinking they might just be generally uncomfortable around humans at first, but now…”

  “Did something happen during all the questions?” Katie asks, looking back at me as her hands freeze on Espeon’s head.

  “Not really, I keep going back and forth on whether I’m overthinking this. It’s easy to forget they’re still young, though I think rapid development is normal for the species.”

  Katie looks like she has to stop herself before she realizes, “No family units.”

  “Exactly. Pokemon like that develop quickly. It might be more of a blessing than I thought that Marshal decided to take an interest in them.”

  “Except you said you might be overthinking it…” Katie leads.

  “Right, because maybe they’re a normally antisocial pokemon who Marshal socialized, or maybe they’re just a not very sociable pokemon and Weaver is all they want to handle,” I say rubbing my eyes, “Or maybe it’s neither of those, and I’m assuming too much. We don’t have any good examples to compare with.”

  “I mean, do you want to know what I think?” Katie asks. I nod. Of course. “I think Misdreavus is just easily overwhelmed and probably a bit scared of being rejected. After all, it’s not like they don’t pay attention or do things when asked. They probably don’t even know who they want to be yet, just that stability feels nice to have.”

  Leave it to the communications expert to figure a person out like that, I suppose. And what she’s saying makes sense. Of course, she’s also making assumptions about why Misdreavus acts the way they do, but we’re both doing that.

  “I can’t help feeling like I’m missing something about them,” I admit. “I think–”

  Hesitance.

  I cut myself off at the… warning? Blinking at Espeon for a moment before the subject of the conversation enters through the outside wall. They look around for an instant, eyes landing on everything before locking onto Katie for a moment.

  Misdreavus slumps in the air slightly, suddenly awkward as they start floating toward me.

  “Taking my advice?” Katie asks. The ghost pauses before vaguely nodding.

  Misdreavus keeps moving until they’re hanging in front of me. They glance around again, sigh, and point at my watch, “Dreav… Misdreavus… Misdreavus misser mis misdreavus?”

  “The time?” That doesn’t feel right, and the pokemon confirms that thought when they shake in denial.

  Misdreavus thinks for a moment, then they extend two tendrils and rotate them clockwise before pointing at the wall.

  That had to be time passing, but what’s with the– Oh, outside. I briefly glance at Katie before addressing Misdreavus, “You want the curfew lifted?” It’s generally just a temporary measure for new partners to keep them from causing trouble, and most ask about having it lifted within the first few days.

  The ghost-type slowly nods, drifting slightly away from me. I think they’re anxious, with the way their mane is coiled into limbs. And if I take Katie’s explanation at face value, then Misdreavus is worried about what I’ll think of them for asking… Because they’re aware of how everyone is feeling.

  As in, say, how I’m concerned—about them—right now. I glance at Espeon. Maybe I should reorient my thinking. I’ve no idea why Misdreavus is so placid compared to expectations, but constantly wondering about it isn’t productive.

  Even if, to use a Sinnohan term, I’ve seen the scythes.

  Still, Katie’s breakdown of Misdreavus seems much more plausible if I think of the ghost as simply anxious instead of unusual. They’re not a dark-type, who needs to be allowed to cross any lines themselves first.

  Maybe I’ve been influenced by Weaver too much.

  Well, certainly a lot to think about. “Of course, go ahead. It’s mostly precautionary in any case, and you haven’t given us much to worry about,” ‘Much’ being the important word there. I don’t expect Misdreavus to do anything unreasonable, at least. “Just check back in the morning for duty.”

  “Dreave– Mis dreave,” The pokemon responds, tendrils uncoiling back into a mane. They swiftly look around again, floating closer to Espeon for a few seconds as they… I still don’t think ‘talk’ is the right word. I’m not included in whatever it is, but I can feel Espeon doing something.

  Whatever empathic conversation the two are having, it doesn’t take long before Misdreavus flies back through the wall.

  Several seconds pass before I let out a chuckle, then a sigh, “That’s something Rowan will want to see, too.” I then turn my gaze to Katie, “So, what advice?”

  “I told Misdreavus that you needed them to actually bring issues up and that they needed to put some effort into fitting in here,” The woman says, giving me a deadpan look. “Then I gave them a poffin.”

  I collapse back onto the weight bench, rubbing my temples, “Gods, I’ve been handling this all wrong.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Katie consoles, “It’s kind of hard to get a read on what that pokemon is thinking. Sure, you can watch what they’re doing, but… And with the time constraints recently…”

  “Yeah.” I agree. Even with a psychic, it’s not like I get more than background understanding.

  …I probably shouldn’t ask, but, “Can you help me understand Misdreavus?” I ask, moving my attention to Espeon.

  He blinks at me, turning to look through the wall for a second. I feel his uncertainty and hesitation roiling around even as he starts psyching himself up for something.

  “You don’t need to–”

  Emptiness. Confusion. Doubt.

  I flinch. It would be hard not to even if I’d been ready for it. Beyond the sheer weight of the emotion, the simple confidence Espeon feels about it is… frightening.

  “That’s h– how Misdreavus feels?” I can’t help confirming.

  Espeon’s eyes narrow, his tail flicking a few times as he focuses rather intensely on something. Then he shakes his head. Negation. Uncertainty.

  Okay… I can’t help staring at the feline pokemon, wondering where the breakdown in understanding is happening. Especially since he’s in my head right now.

  Espeon immediately winces after that thought. Contrition.

  It has been a while since he forgot to ask first, and there’s no point in getting on him about it. He’s trying. “Why did you answer like that if it’s wrong?” I ask, doing my best to not sound accusatory.

  Espeon goes back to thinking for a few seconds before I feel a realization hit him. Gently, the manual In my lap lifts, opening as it drifts into the air within a fractal glow.

  Friendly.

  Friendship? Katie and I watch how Espeon moves the book for a moment, ruffling its pages and floating it in a very similar pattern to… “That’s Misdreavus?”

  Affirmation.

  I continue to watch for a few seconds, trying to puzzle it out. Loneliness. Then the floating book freezes.

  Emptiness. Confusion. Doubt.

  “Oh,” Is all I can bring myself to say.

  “…Do I want to know?” Katie asks, speaking for the first time in a while.

  “Just a sec,” I tell her, wanting to make sure I understand first. “It’s not every time, is it??”

  Espeon shakes his head.

  “Do they feel that way often?”

  “Espeon,” The feline mewls. Affirmation. Reticence.

  “Can I get clued in?” Katie asks before I can figure out what reticence means.

  Wariness.

  Privacy, remember? Espeon doesn’t respond, although he does look away. That did make it more clear, however. “So,” I say, looking at Katie, “Misdreavus might be a bit unstable and either doesn’t want us to know or doesn’t want us to worry.” Weaver must know about it, too.

  And that’s… odd. She doesn’t usually hide important things from me. Maybe she thinks it’s for the best, or that it isn’t any kind of issue. Hmm, all I actually know is that there’s zero chance she isn’t already aware of what Espeon just let me know.

  I trust her, though.

  ▲▲▲

  ▼▼▼

  “So, What are you going to do now?” Weaver asks, not even bothering to confirm if Onaga agreed as she starts moving off.

  It is a great question, though. “…I hadn’t thought about it,” I admit. “Probably the same as every night,” I say, moving to follow her.

  “That’s it?”

  “I don’t know,” I shrug, “I… I’ll probably fly around a bit once everybody’s asleep. Maybe go back to my cabin and work on plans for it.”

  “What, not going to visit your consort??” Weaver teases.

  “Please stop,” Not that asking her will do anything. “He completely blindsided me with that whole thing.”

  “I know!” She laughs. “The look on your face when you realized… How did you even manage that?”

  I can’t help g– chuckling, “I didn’t manage anything. I knew he’d realized something the last time I saw him, but I never thought he’d be attracted to me.”

  Weaver very slowly turns her head to look directly at me, “…Okay, I know humans aren’t that different.” I blink at her, and she continues, “Oh come on! You’re new, you cared enough to get to know him, you’re apparently calming to be around, once you start talking it’s easy to keep going, and you’re dark and mysterious when you don’t talk. Do I even need to mention you rescuing him?”

  “That’s not really the reason it never occurred to me,” I say, maybe a tad defensively.

  Weaver gives me a raised eyebrow. “If you say ‘I hadn’t thought about it’ one more time…”

  “It’s… a bit of that,” I admit, “Just not for the same reasons as most things. I guess it’s–”

  “You’re going to say something that comes down to how humans make things too complicated again, aren’t you?”

  I’ve been wondering about that myself, recently. “Probably,” I concede with a sigh. “Honestly, I’m a bit scared to start thinking about any kind of, well, intimate relationship.”

  Weaver smirks, “Oh, that poor leafeon.”

  “Yeah. I know. I don’t get how pokemon see relationships,” I groan, making Weaver cackle. “Beyond any of that, I honestly don’t even know how I’d handle that kind of relationship right now. I still feel like I don’t know enough about anything to be comfortable as it is.”

  “I’m always willing to help!” Weaver chirrups.

  Maybe I should consider taking her up on that. I’ve been focusing too much on trying to get to the point where I can learn on my own, and she’s been offering recently… “History, pokemon, and pop-culture lessons with Professor Weaver,” I muse. “Although I think I’ve been picking up on what’s popular just fine.”

  Pokemon battling is certainly a sport that exists, obviously. Although it’s not the only thing people do for fun. Especially not here, with the whole ‘no pokeballs’ thing.

  “Oh, I was more thinking how to cut loose,” Weaver murmurs. “Hmm… You’ve only vaguely talked about what was in those games…” She trails off. “Still kinda odd how that’s a thing in your old world.”

  “I’ve given up assuming what is or isn’t possible,” I shrug. “For all I know, there could be wizards involved.” Which is a genuine thought that has occurred to me a few times now. “So,” I say, not wanting to get wrapped up in that particular conversation, “Where are you taking us?”

  It’s rather clearly somewhere in the city, but she never elaborated.

  “You mentioned wanting to go out to eat, and I figured with how you were looking earlier that you might need to relax.”

  Moving around Vientown—or, I suppose, any city—for the two of us is easy. Myself, for obvious reasons, yet, despite being landbound, Weaver has nearly the same freedom of movement. All that to say is that once we start focusing on finding an interesting place for… I guess I shouldn’t call it dinner, personally.

  Whatever It’d be called, once we start looking we can cover a lot of ground quickly. I had a few places I’ve seen that I checked first, but they’re apparently not open for dinner. And so, to my complete and total surprise, Weaver ends up picking the place.

  ***

  “Or at least that’s what she said about it. I won’t say I’m not disappointed, but that just means you’ll need to see if Marshal will set some berries aside later this year,” Weaver comments, finishing the last of her fried fish.

  She seems to eat a lot of fish. Probably since it’s an easy source of protein.

  Although she evidently doesn’t mind catching birds, either.

  “I suppose,” I carefully don’t sigh. “Not sure how I feel about eating half-rotten fruit instead of just hitting the bar. I guess it can’t hurt me that much anymore…”

  “Yeah, that’s one of the human things I really don’t get. I mean, they can eat so many different things, but you leave any of it sitting around and it makes them sick.”

  “It has to do with… not usually the breakdown itself, but the byproducts?” I say, fishing up a very old memory that’s mostly reconstructed shards. “I think that’s right, I don’t know for sure.”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “Mmm,” Weaver intones, draining the last of her water. “I think we got sidetracked again, back to talking about the future.”

  “I still don’t know if–”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Weaver waves me off, “Nothing’s for certain, blah blah. You keep saying that.” She levels her gaze at me, “It’s still interesting. You were talking about someone trying to control the gods?”

  “Yeah,” I confirm. “Still can’t remember exactly why, just a few fragments. Genuinely wish I’d paid more attention… Anyway, that’s pretty much the end of that one. You catch Palkia–” Weaver snorts at that, and I can’t blame her at this point, “–And then fight the elite four.”

  “Again.”

  “Yep, like I said, all the games ended that way. So, that was the Sinnoh game,” I pause to sip at my soft drink. ‘Berry Medley’ is a whole new flavor here. “And then the last one I played was White, Unova.”

  “The one you said you remembered best,” Weaver nods.

  “Yeah. I know there were more that came out since then, but I’d… Saying I lost interest feels wrong, now, but that’s what happened.”

  I look out over the lounge from our booth again, still slightly nervous about another pokemon overhearing everything—since, you know, it is a lot—but it looks like the family with the wartortle left, and I can’t see the raichu or blissey anymore.

  Kind of wanted to talk to those two, frankly, since it was pretty clear they worked at some kind of hospital.

  “I think the waitress is about to hand us the bill,” I say, seeing the young woman headed our way.

  “Hand me the bill,” Weaver corrects, carefully extracting several bright yellow slips of money and a few different coins from a pocket on her bandolier.

  There’s no tipping here, which feels wrong. In any case, after Weaver pays she hops down from her seat before glaring at me. I assume she’s glaring, at least, since I’m both already outside and in the unreal, so I can only barely see her silhouette.

  “Trying to run away from me?” She sweetly asks before I reappear next to her, now outside.

  “Oh, I’d be moving much faster if I were,” I assure her. “Preferably both up and over salt water.”

  “So you’ve planned it already, hmm…” She gives me a suspicious look. “Why not underground?”

  “I’m about eighty to ninety percent sure you can dig,” I answer, making her laugh.

  “Yeah, I can. So, what was the deal with the Unova game? White, you said?”

  “Well…” I look around, considering how to put it. I remember Team Plasma and their goofy knight outfits pretty well, considering how long ago it was for human-me. “So, it starts like all the others, talk to the professor, get your first pokemon, get a pokedex, and so on.” Weaver nods, picking a direction that we start moving in.

  “And, again, like the other games, there’s the bad guys that show up,” I continue, “But this time their whole thing is supposedly ‘freeing pokemon.’”

  “I can hear the sarcasm already,” Weaver chuckles, “What were they really doing?”

  “That’s the thing,” I pause, double-checking my memory, “I think in the end the game kinda says most of them were trying to do that. There’s this character, N, who you fight throughout the game, and he genuinely believed in it. Of course, that’s not what their leader’s goal was, but still.” I fall silent for a moment, thinking. “Is it really like that outside of Sienna?”

  Indigo Plateau, Sienna Coast, Orange Islands, I’m sensing a theme.

  Weaver considers before answering, “Depends, I’m pretty sure. Orre? It is absolutely that bad, most of the wild populations have been depleted. But Sinnoh? I’ve heard it’s pretty good, or at least that there are protections in place.” She taps her chin a few times, “I’m not sure about Unova.” She shrugs, stopping to eye a building, “Most League nations are supposed to prevent poaching and abuse. And you’ve heard everyone at base complain about the staffing issues since a few places negotiated getting rangers themselves.”

  I nod. It hasn’t been a lot, but there have been grumbles about it. Nice to know that poorly thought-out business and politics are multiversal.

  Watching Weaver leap to a railing, then the roof of the building we’re next to, I float after her, “Okay, that’s… comforting, I guess.”

  Weaver hums noncommittally, “Ryu normally has more time for things. Everyone did.” We both keep moving in silence for a few seconds before Weaver speaks up again, “Anyway, can we get back to talking about that story?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I say, starting to fly sideways to look at Weaver. “Let me back up a bit. So the bad guys this time were called ‘Team Plasma,’ and they started by trying to just get people to stop using pokeballs. Of course, you keep running into shady things they’re doing–”

  “Of course.”

  “–But you also keep running into N, who can supposedly talk to pokemon… Which I guess isn’t all that special, now that I’ve seen it. Um, anyway,” I continue, sweeping around so I don’t go through a third-story loft, “N challenges you to a battle…”

  ***

  Middle of the night? Check. No one around? Ha! As if. Sleeping Leafeon who appears to have overworked himself growing a few more ferns and saplings by my cabin? Again.

  Check.

  Hmm… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t slightly tempted to try getting him to move, but that would be a bit… unkind. Especially after I just turned him down earlier.

  …Nope. Still don’t know what to think of that.

  Well, let’s see if I can move him myself. Gently.

  Creating a zone around him, I– Notice the roots sticking out of him, all along his legs, anchoring him to the ground. Well shit, good thing I hadn’t started lifting. Leaf doesn’t even twitch. How does being inside a psychic field even feel? I think the force is applied uniformly unless I twist or bend the power the right way…

  Mmm, distractions and more things to try. Later, though. I have plans to make and a bush to relocate.

  If I even should move him, it’s not like he’s in the way right now. Although I doubt he’s waking up until the sun rises.

  Well, general floor plan, then. The cabin wasn’t large before it collapsed, but it was decent-sized. Open floor-plan? Walls are almost a waste of space for me…

  Hmm…

  The foundation is seated in rock, so it’s probably stable enough to go a bit higher. A completely open plan is a bit appealing, especially since the original layout was either poorly thought out or poorly altered.

  My bet’s on altered. The place was well made. Or maybe it just wasn’t used right? Perhaps the ‘bedroom’ was meant to be storage. It would explain the lack of windows.

  So, open, two-story plan. And placing the stovepipe—because a cabin isn’t complete without a fireplace or stove, even if I don’t need the heat—through the second story, near the wall, sounds good. I’ll need insulation for it, but that’ll probably be brick rings. Or I could just air-gap it and not risk a fire. By the time it reaches the roof, it shouldn’t be an issue.

  There’s also zero chance of me not putting in a new balcony and sliding doors on the south wall, the view over the cliffs to the sea is gorgeous. Plus, well, south-facing windows. Far north house.

  Damn, I hadn’t applied any of my skills for anything but work in a while, huh?

  …

  …It makes me wish Sam were here. And Paul. And Even—Goddamned—Marty. Someone’s doing renovations? We’d all get to mess around without any real time constraints or inspectors, leave little doodles and surprises in stuff, and–

  I’m making myself sad again.

  I’m—probably—immortal and magic exists, I’ll see them again.

  Moving on.

  …

  …Right, a stone half-wall would look nice, but it would make insulation an issue. Maybe as a facade? I’m thinking too far ahead. Back to floor plan.

  I can extend the building out slightly as well, several feet north and on either side. South is… There’s a hard limit to how much I could go that way, but it’s a decent amount depending on how well I can anchor into the cliff-side. I’m not going to do that, though.

  Hmm, stove and seats there. Table and chairs… Will I need to add stairs? Better question, will I want to add stairs?

  What will I use the space for? High shelving won’t be a problem, I could even add cabinets around the ceiling opposite the second floor.

  A workshop space is a must, but it will take up a lot of… wall space, not floor space. Bring a wall out from the north side and place the work surface… up there… The rest of that corner could all be shelves, drawers, and then general storage near the floor.

  The image of a floating-species-only house is amusing. No stairs or ladders, with everything on the walls or hanging from the ceiling, sometimes excessively high up. That could be fun… But also a little inconsiderate. And it also feels wrong somehow, though I think that’s just because I’ve never experienced one.

  Back to something more realistic. If I make that corner a workspace, then I could put the stairs on the other side of the room, near the west wall. Or… what would I even put up there? A lounge? Some kind of… bed?

  How much of a home do I want this to be? I won’t need a bedroom, but somewhere to settle down would be nice. I don’t need a kitchen, but food is still tasty. Hmm, I won’t need a bathroom, either.

  Not that I could really add one. There’s no water or electrical hookups, after all. Can I learn to create water or electricity?

  …Someone’s extremely curious right now.

  I halt my slow circuit around the remaining structure, glancing at Leaf. Nope, he’s still asleep. And looking around, I feel a faint something, but don’t see anybody else. Vanishing into unreality shows–

  No one.

  I can still see some flares of curiosity coming from the northwest treeline, but no color, sphere, or silhouette.

  Nope, not concerning in the slightest.

  Fuck, now I’m paranoid.

  ▲▲▲

  ▼▼▼

  Why does this look like Kanto? Certainly not one of the cities, but–

  Oh, I’m looking at Silver Mountain. To the east. When did…

  I’m dreaming. Well, at least it’s not a nightmare for once. But why Johto? I’ve never even been to Johto.

  “_____”

  What was that? It was… What?

  Why can’t I move anymore?

  Trying to turn my head is a struggle, I barely move a few millimeters after several full seconds pass.

  I think they’re full seconds.

  “_____________________________”

  There’s that… sound? Voice? Desperate cry? Again.

  I think I’d rather wake up now. And knowing this is a dream should… should…

  Nope, now we’re back to normal. Definitely into nightmare territory. Can’t move, can’t wake up, can’t–

  “_____________”

  –See what’s making that.

  I keep trying to move my head. The strange reverberations continuing for the eternity it takes me to turn to the side, finally managing to see what– who’s making them out of the corner of my eye.

  This isn’t my dream, is it?

  There, behind something that isn’t, beyond the warped reality of a dream, is an almost eevee.

  Or, more likely, Espeon, although looks more like he’s somehow stuck mid-evolution right now. His features keep shifting around.

  He’s not looking at me. He’s somewhere else entirely. Frail, bruised, cold, and crying out.

  A boot flashes, faster than possible, and the unsound rings out again. “____”

  Time to wake up, me.

  …Come on, You’ve done it before, just wake up!

  Wake up!

  Nothing.

  Change of tactics. I try moving toward Espeon, pushing against the world as I barely shift.

  I see the half-formed espeon scrabble to his paws, sprinting in place until he flags. With a flash, he’s back on the ground.

  Does he know I’m here? He’s anxious enough to think sharing a nightmare like this would be doing something wrong.

  I’ve almost managed to get one foot off the ground.

  Oh, I’m not outside anymore. I’ve hardly moved, yet I’m now in the grimy, musty, storehouse-like space with Espeon. There’s a weight here, invisible and omnipresent.

  And he can see me. His eye’s are wide, afraid. Desperate. Purple irises and glowing white pupils set into an eevee’s, now an espeon’s, face.

  And the nightmare continues. Minute after minute, Espeon sometimes trying to move toward me, other times shrinking away. A few times, he seems to forget I’m here, buckling under words or blows I can’t perceive.

  I’m mid-step now.

  And then, after far, far too long, the weight seems to lift around this–

  I blink my eyes open, feeling Weaver sleeping on top of me, Espeon next to us on the bed.

  Is it brighter than usual in here?

  Sitting up, waking Weaver in the process, the source of the light is obvious. As is something else.

  “This is the first time you haven’t been around to help him sleep since Weaver grabbed you,” I quietly comment to Misdreavus, who’s nervously hovering next to the bed.

  The floating pokemon opens their mouth to say something, thinks better of it, and bobs once.

  Looking past Misdreavus, it’s about an hour before I’d normally wake up. Not a large issue. “Did you just get back?”

  Misdreavus bobs again.

  I’ve already been awake, in a sense, for a bit now, and I’m not tired enough to go back to sleep.

  I’ve had nightmares all my life, but being part of a psychic’s dream? I start rubbing between Espeon’s ears, thumbing one as I try to wake him gently. Wanting to give a measure of reassurance.

  He starts slightly, obviously waking up as I can feel him begining–

  Contrition.

  Yes, I–

  Contrition.

  Okay, but–

  Contrition.

  Espeon–

  CONTRITION.

  Stop.

  “Breathe,” I instruct after that firm command. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m okay. You didn’t do anything wrong,” I assure the silently shaking feline.

  Espeon doesn’t start spiraling, a benefit of Misdreavus being near him. Even so, I can tell he’s giving it his best shot. I can feel him tying himself in knots from his end of our… And he cut it off.

  I slide out of bed and pick the psychic up before heading out so we don’t wake anyone else up.

  Settling myself at the dining table, Espeon tries to squirm away. I need to decide what to do.

  “Espeon,” I say, making the cat go still in my arms. “This might sound harsh at first, but I want you to understand that what I’m trying to say is that I know what happened to you, and I don’t blame you for anything, okay?”

  He mewls, not looking at me, but gives a small nod.

  “What they did to you is how most poachers and–” I feel my lips curl into a snarl as I nearly let the word ‘thieves’ pass my lips, “–Criminals treat uncooperative or underperforming pokemon. To them, if you don’t obey you’re just a product that won’t sell well.” I think seeing Espeon evolve from an extremely in-demand eevee to the highest separation mortality eeveelution didn’t help, either.

  He’s still so underweight.

  I shouldn’t get sidetracked. “And what they did was cruel,” I continue, only now loosening my hold on the traumatized pokemon. “They wanted you to shut down, to follow orders and ignore anything else. It’s very well documented, unfortunately.” Fear and pain, everyone likes to think they can handle them.

  All pokemon can, to a point.

  “Just please, please understand that I don’t want you to apologize. I want you to feel better.”

  I want to help you. Please don’t push me out.

  Espeon goes slack, the sensations from his end of the empathic bond returning. He’s a mess. He doesn’t know what to think or do.

  “It’s okay,” I say, once again rubbing between his ears, careful to avoid the gem. “Whether you pulled me into that on purpose or not, it’s okay.”

  Negation.

  Entreatment. Harmony.

  You ask as if you aren’t doing so already. Thank you for remembering.

  Gratitude.

  Not a complete emergency, thankfully. Just… he’s young. Not the youngest, that’s Misdreavus, but they obviously develop differently. And since he evolved young, Espeon’s growth was forced to prioritize an immediate increase in strength over his well-being.

  Shame.

  About evolving? Were you doing the right thing, Espeon?

  Hesitance. Reluctance. Uncertainty.

  From what Weaver’s written about his past, that reaction makes sense.

  I hear the fridge open and look up to see Weaver pulling a berry out. She casually tosses it before biting it out of the air.

  No ghost-type around, though. Being considerate? I’m fairly certain they’re still here, merely invisible. I hope Rowan and Ohkido take today off. Or at least they’ll be okay with limited interaction today. As nice as it is, I don’t think I can justify hanging around in the forest all day two days in a row.

  I’m already starting to think about work again.

  Significance.

  Mmm, yes. It’s never-ending. Look, there’s even a new note on the questboard. That… had to have been added overnight.

  That’s odd.

  “Is Katie around?” I ask Weaver.

  My partner cocks her head before staring into space for a moment, letting out a low rumble.

  After a moment, Misdreavus appears from where Weaver is staring, rotating in denial.

  I’ll have to take a look, I suppose. But later, It wouldn’t be on the questboard if it were an emergency.