Chapter 3: The
Dilemma

"Uncle
Ty? I need a favor," I said as I stepped into my uncle's study.

The room was
filled with old, beaten-up objects from Uncle Ty's time as a Pokémon trainer. I
hated that room—it always felt like being inside a museum or a tomb. Even at
the age of 10, I could sense the lonely atmosphere in the room as if it had
somehow soaked into the worn carpet, the bookcases cluttered with trophies and
ribbons, and the various pictures of Uncle Ty standing next to different
Pokémon of different species and sizes.

            Uncle
Ty looked up from the book he was reading, “What's up, Maya-hem?"

            Normally,
I would smile at the use of my nickname, but instead I could only muster a weak
half-smile. Maya-hem was what my entire family called me because I was a
walking natural disaster. Wherever I went, objects seemed to leap from the
tables and shelves onto the floor. I grew out of it, but it didn't stop the
adults from still using that name.

            I
checked the hall to make sure no one was watching and I closed the door. I
continued to face the door, took a deep breath, and wiped my hands on the leg
of my jeans.

           Okay, you got this, I told myself.  Just
come out and say it; do you it just like you practiced in the bathroom mirror
twenty times before you worked up the courage to come in here. Remember, it
doesn't matter what his decision is, one way or another you're going through
with the plan.

I took one last
deep breath and faced my uncle. The words flooded out of me in a rush, “I want
you to train in me in being a Pokémon trainer. I only have a little under a year
before I can get my license and I want to be ready."

            Uncle
Ty was the first in the family to become a Pokémon trainer, but he had to quit
because he had kids. Neither of his children wanted anything to do with Pokémon
training, so he had all but adopted my brother and me when we decided we wanted
to become trainers. Every summer we would visit and ask him stories about the
places he had been to or have mock battles in the yard. He was just entering
middle-age, but years of adventures in the wilderness and hard labor took their
toll on him. The sun shining through the window cast shadows on his wrinkled
face, making him resemble someone closer to their nineties than mid-forties.
His hair had abandoned him a long time ago, and he shaved what little he did
have left rather than deal with the embarrassment of a receding hairline. I
remembered his eyes were always bright and full of life, but right now, hunched
over a book in his armchair, square-rimmed glasses hanging off the end of his
crooked nose, he looked like a man who was tired both physically and mentally.

            “Maya,
do you really think now is a good
time to be thinking about Pokémon training? I mean, after Bryce—" He suddenly
stopped and his face somehow looked older than ever. “Maybe you should give it
some time before—"

            “Before
what?" I asked, my voice rising. “I promised I would become a Pokémon trainer
so Bryce and I could battle for champion's title."

            Uncle
Ty sighed. “You really think that if you become a trainer, your brother will
just magically reappear? Maya, you're too old to believe in that kind of
stuff."

I
didn't believe in that stuff, but right now that “stuff" was all I had left.
Bryce and I were pretty close. There was hardly a time when I wasn't by his
side, sticking closer to him than his own shadow. But I couldn't help it, I
idolized him. Bryce was the kind of trainer I wanted to be, a strong,
well-respected, and smart. He was top in his class at the Pokémon trainer's
school, he was popular with the other kids, even the Pokémon liked him. By the
time he graduated, he was good enough to beat most of the teachers.

When
he left on his journey, my parents and I were beyond proud. The day he left, he
promised he would save the champion's seat until I came to challenge him for
it. Ever since that day, I counted the days until I could become a trainer
myself and following in his footsteps. I studied and trained harder than ever;
I was determined to learn everything I possibly could to prepare for our battle
for the league title.

Bryce
called often, and he sent home gifts and pictures from the places he visited.
Uncle Ty also made phone calls to some of his old friends who kept him up to
date on Bryce's activities. I remembered sitting by the phone constantly,
waiting for the weekly update from Uncle Ty or Bryce's call to keep in touch
with the family.

Then
one day, he just stopped calling. The weeks rolled by, and he never contacted
us. We tried contacting him, but we never got an answer. Uncle Ty's friends
said they hadn't heard anything either. Bryce had just vanished.

The
first thing my parents did was called the Pokémon Rangers and asked them to
help look for Bryce. But they said that trainers often disappeared into the
mountains for weeks or even months at a time to train. It wasn't uncommon for
someone to go missing for a while. It seemed a good enough reason for my father
to call off the search, but not my mother. She made a point of calling the
rangers every day until they finally put together a small search team to shut
her up. Unfortunately, like they said, the Kalos region was a big place; they
never found anything. They couldn't even confirm Bryce's last location before
he went missing. Uncle Ty put the word out to all his trainer friends, but they
never found a lead either.

I dropped my head
so he couldn't see the tears I knew were coming. It hurt just thinking about
all the times I had listen to my mother cry herself to sleep and how I woke up
the next morning to find my father sleeping on the couch with an empty bottle
in his hand. But I needed Uncle Ty to believe I was strong in order to convince
him to train me. The rangers didn't know Bryce like I did, I knew how to think
like him, where he would go, and where he wouldn't.

 I hid my arms behind my back and dug my nails
into my arm. The pain stopped the tears and made it easier to focus. “I
overheard Mom and Dad talking last night," I whispered. “They were
arguing…about whether they should call off the search…again. They were making
funeral arrangements."

It
didn't take long before my parents started turning on each other. My mother
blamed my father for not taking it seriously enough when Bryce first vanished,
and my father blamed my mother for encouraging Bryce to leave in the first
place. Things eventually got so bad, they couldn't stand to be in the same room
with each other. Not even sure if they sleep in the same bed anymore. Regardless
of whose fault it was, they did agree on one thing: I was not to become a
Pokémon trainer. At one point they even argued if I should be allowed to have
Dust with me. Whenever I was in the room, they pretended as if we were one
happy family. But we weren't a happy family. So long as Bryce was gone, our
family was broken. I saw the animosity they had in their eyes whenever they
looked at each other, and heard the hatred in their voices when they spoke, and
heard them when they thought I was sleeping and began yelling to each other
about how much they hated each other.

            I
hesitated to see if Uncle Ty would understand and agree on the spot. He didn't
respond or ask any questions which was actually a good thing because I left out
the part where they also spoke about meeting with the divorce attorney again.
It seemed they were serious about separating this time. When he didn't say
anything else, I pressed some more for good measure, “I don't wanna give up
yet. But I can't look for him unless I become a licensed trainer. That's why I
want to learn everything I possibly can and become the best trainer I can be."

            There
was no other sound in the room except for the ticking of an old Purrloin-shaped
clock hanging on the wall. Uncle Ty just stared, unmoving. If it wasn't for the
rising and falling of his chest as he breathed, anyone could've mistaken him
for a statue.

            Come on, Uncle, please, I thought as I
looked at him pleadingly. I will do this
with or without, but I know it will be easier with you, which is why I need
your help. I know deep down you want to know what happened just as much as I
do.

Uncle Ty shifted
in his chair and set his book down on the table next to him. His eyes were
still and impossible to read.

            “You're
gonna do this whether I train you or not aren't you?"

            Not
wanting to get my hopes up too soon, I looked down again to hide my joy and
nodded.

“Fine. The least I
can do is make sure you know how to take care of yourself before you go running
off to who knows where. But you don't go get your license until I say you're ready, deal?"

            I
snatched my head up in shock. “Until you say I'm ready? But Unc, that could
take—"

            “I
don't wanna hear it, Maya," Uncle Ty said in a stern, father-like tone. He
stood up and he suddenly looked like a different person. Instead of a old man
who had settled into life, he looked a leader ready to give a rallying speech
to his troops. Minus a few extra wrinkles he could've passed for the younger
version of himself standing the pictures. “If we're doing this, we're doing it my way. And I'll be damned if I'm gonna
let you run off before you're ready and wind up missing like your brother.
You're parents would never forgive me, and neither would I."

****

The sound of a
gated door squealing snapped me out of my daydream as well as making me cringe.
I took a minute to remind myself where I was and regain my hearing. I was
sitting in the portion of The Under where injured Pokémon were taken to be
fixed up between battles. They called it the infirmary, but it was really
nothing more than a remodeled room with two rows of folding chairs in it. A
gated door was on the other side of the room where the Pokémon were taken to
the restoration machine they most likely had stored in the other room. Just
like everything else in this old warehouse, the walls were dirty and the
lighting was poor. This place really is a far cry from the dressed-up league arenas. I thought. At least those places never reeked of vomit.

I had expected to
see the blond trainer from the last battle, but she wasn't in the infirmary
when I showed up. Thinking on it, it was probably best I wasn't there if she
showed up. After what I did to her Talonflame, I was not on her list of
favorite people.

The person who
opened the gate was The Under's nurse—a grungy man with features that suggested
he turned a few heads before life chewed him up, spit him up, and then ground
him into the dirt for good measure. As if to confirm my theory, he moved like a
man who had given up on life as he shuffled across the room and handed me
Sunny's Poké Ball. “Here's your Pokémon. It's healthy and all that," he said in
a slow drawl as if he was tired of talking.

I mumbled my
thanks as I took the Poké Ball and turned to leave when the man suddenly
grabbed my wrist. I spun around, fist raised to make him let go if I needed to.

“Hey, uh, before
you go: Are you really the Kalos Region Champion?" the man asked.

“Ex-champion," I
replied mechanically, immediately regretting the auto-response.

The nurse's face lit
up and he started bouncing up and down like an excited teenager. “Oh man, I
cannot believe it. I thought it was you when they said your name over the
loudspeaker, but there could be more than one Maya Martin in the world, y'know?
I am such a big fan of yours." He let me go to dig a piece of paper and a pen
from the pocket of his ratty jeans. “Can I have your autograph?"

I raised a brow at
the sudden change in the man's attitude. It was like watching a dead plant
suddenly brighten and straighten up to accept the sun. Is this guy for real? I wondered. A minute ago he seemed like he had lost faith in humanity, but one
mention of my name, and suddenly he's found the strength to carry on?

The whole thing
felt more than a little creepy, but it still felt a little rude to refuse him.
“Ummm, sure?" I took the pen and paper and quickly scribbled down my name and a
quick nonsense message him about being a loyal fan.

The nurse handled
the autographed paper as if it were his newborn child, wearing the widest smile
I'd ever seen. “Ohhh, man, I actually have the
champion's autograph! I actually saw some of your battle tonight. I gotta
say though, you seemed different tonight."

“Different?
Different how?"

“How can I put it?
It seemed like you letting the other guys off easy. Normally, you don't take
prisoners."

I did my best not
to smile at his comment. “Yeah, I figured why overdo it, right? Already made
champ, who do I need to impress?"

The man looked
disappointed. “True. But I prefer your old style better. You didn't hold back.
Sure it seemed a little harsh sometimes, but you treated all trainers the same
way."

“Right. I'll see
what I can do," I said all the while thinking, There's no way in hell I'm going back to my old ways. Those days are done, buddy."  

            I exited The Under which was
really nothing more than an old warehouse in the corner of the city. Normally
the streets of Lumiose City were still lively, even at night. The nightclubs
started to open around eightish, so the crowds didn't thin out much when it got
dark. Then there were the shady people who enjoyed looking for unsuspecting passersby
to prey on. And there was always a stray Pokémon or two digging for scraps in
the trash. Tonight, the surrounding buildings were dark, the skies were empty,
and there wasn't a stray Pokémon in sight.

I took a moment to scan the
area for Ian. Other than an empty food container traveling with the breeze the
parking lot was empty; he was nowhere to be seen. Part of me worried that he
was going to be waiting outside for me, ready to ask about my feelings and try
to cheer me up. But it seemed he had taken the hint and decided to give me my
space…for now.

I tossed Dust's Poké Ball
into the air, releasing my Flygon in front of me. The moment he appeared, I
circled around, climbed onto his back, patted his neck twice and said, “Let's
go."

Dust didn't move. He stared
straight ahead. I followed his gaze and noticed two people leaving The Under,
one of them being the trainer Daryl I fought earlier. The man next to him I
didn't recognize, but he was taller and older. Unlike Daryl, the other man had
hair covering his head and face and no tattoos. Daryl walked hunched over and
kept glancing at the man as they approached making him look like a child being
escorted to the principal's office. The man next to him, on the other hand,
walked like the angry parent ready to split the teacher's head open.

The man pointed at me and
asked Daryl, “Is she the one?"

Daryl didn't even look up as
he nodded. I rolled my eyes and jumped off Dust's back.

 I am so not in the mood
to deal with this shit. “Can I help you gentlemen?" I asked.

The pair stopped a few feet
away and the man folded his arms across his chest and straightened up to his
full height. He was easily taller than Daryl and me, but not taller than the
nearly eight-foot Flygon standing next to me. His posture and the scowl on his
face screamed that he was used to intimidating people.

“You owe us some money," the
man said. “You and that Taylor bitch think you're slick. Teaming up together
and taking out the competition then splitting the winnings afterwards. Did you
really think no one would recognize the Kalos Region Champion running around in
the trainer underground?"

Ex-champion, I thought as I glared at the man. "And who gave him the idea that Taylor and I are working together?" “Regardless
of who knew, they still allowed me to enter knowing who I was; it's not like
there was a restriction on skill level. If you got a problem, take it up with
them. Besides, there was no way that guy was going to win tonight."

“I don't care that he lost—I
care that you cheated. You had your friend with the laptop scope out the
competition and feed you tips. Now, you're gonna pay us, or else we'll tell
everyone how Maya Martin likes to cheat her way to the top."

I froze. How do they know about Ian? How long was
this guy watching me?" My nails dug
into my palms as I tried to will the man to catch fire. Dust warbled and
touched my shoulder as if trying to say, “Don't
do it, Maya. He's not worth it."

I shook him off and said, “Look,
it's late. I'm tired and I've had a very stressful night. So, I'm gonna give
you one chance to take that back before I embarrass you in front of your
friend."

Daryl's eyes exploded with
fear. “Look, man, she's right. I couldn't have won this tourney. Just forget
it—"

The man whirled on Daryl and
he immediately shut up. “This ain't about winning or losing. It's about this
worthless bitch cheating you out of a fair chance." He turned to me wearing a
look of absolute hatred. “So I'm gonna show you what happens to cheats around
here." He tossed a Poké Ball into the air, releasing his Machoke into the
middle of the parking lot. The humanoid Pokémon materialized in a kneeling
position like someone waiting to be knighted. Its bluish grey skin shone under
the street light as it slowly rose to its full height; it was taller than most
Machoke, standing roughly about the same height as its trainer. The Machoke
then flexed its bulging muscles before adopting a fighting stance, but it
looked more like a body builder posing for a photo shoot.

I couldn't help but smile. Machoke
were known for their strong physiques. The size of their muscles was a sign of
how well they were trained. This one showed signs of being trained, but not
enough for me to worry. Like Daryl's Venusaur, this Machoke glared darkly at
me, but it was more bluster than anything.

At least I know where Daryl gets the theatrics from.

Dust growled and stepped
forward, but I blocked his path. “Hold on, buddy. You're kinda my ride home.
This guy's a nobody, but I don't want you getting tired from kicking his ass."

Dust looked hurt that he
didn't get a chance to defend what little honor he felt I had, but he nodded
and stepped back.

“Don't worry, Dust. I'm not
in the mood to play games. This'll be over quick." I whistled and Dorian's Poké
Ball burst open, releasing the Houndoom at my side. “Looks you'll get to see
some action tonight after all," I said to the Houndoom.

The man and his Machoke
started laughing. “Are you seriously trying to take on my fighting-type with a
dark-type? You're really letting a couple of easy wins go to your head ain't
you?"

Dorian sized-up his opponent
before turning to me with a look that said, “Are you really wasting my time with this guy?"

“I know, but I don't
appreciate being called a cheat. I got enough of a dark reputation as it is. So
if this guy's gonna hate me, I wanna make sure he hates me for the right
reasons."

The Machoke said something
in Pokémon language. Whatever was said, Dorian didn't appreciate it because he
started growling and turned to face them.

“Dorian, we don't have all
night here, so why don't we wrap this up quickly and go home?" I said.

When I said that, I felt the
air shift. Dorian smiled at me. Whenever Maude smiled during a battle, it meant
she was about to do something—usually something crazy. I saw that same smile on
Dorian's face, but something was off. The smile on Dorian's face sent chills
through my body. There was a dark look in his eyes that contrasted the
mischievous one my Mawile often had.

“Did you know that Houndoom are still feared in certain parts
of the world?"

The words just jumped to the
front of my mind. Seeing Dorian look at his opponent with that murderous intent
in his eyes brought just word to mind: Death.

“All right, Machoke, use—"
the man said.

Dorian rushed forward before
the man could finish his command. He loosed a savage snarl as he lunged at the
Machoke's face. I felt my heart stop and my blood run cold. Suddenly, a violent
swirl of pink, white, and red flashed before my eyes. My ears began ringing
with the sound of panicked squealing and vicious growling. I blinked and the
image vanished. Daryl and his friend were standing there, faces pale and mouths
gaped open. The Machoke was laying on the ground. Dorian was already walking back
to me.

What…the fuck…was that? I actually thought he was gonna kill
someone. Dammit, Dorian, we talked about this. What did that Machoke say to you
to make you react that way?

It wasn't until he was by my
side again that I realized I was holding my breath. I did my best to hide it as
I took deep gulps of the night air. The Machoke still lay on the ground,
unmoving. For a moment, I feared the worst, but then I saw there wasn't a mark
on it. The man and Daryl rushed to its side. Both their mouths dropped open.

“Holy shit, he fainted!"
Daryl cried.

Wait, what? Dorian made it faint without even touching it?
Okay, deep breaths. Play it cool. They can't know that you have no idea what
the hell just happened.

“You got anymore Pokémon, or
do you wanna just admit defeat now?" I said, hoping they didn't notice the
slight shaking in my voice. “I think Dorian's got enough energy to go another
round."

The man looked at me as if I
just confirmed his worst fears. “N-n-no, I-I-I—"

Daryl cut in, “Look, we're
sorry. This wasn't my idea anyway. We'll never bother you again, I swear." He
tapped his friend on the shoulder and said. “See, I told you. Why would you
wanna fuck with someone like her? She's fucking crazy!"

The man nodded vigorously in
agreement making himself resemble a massive bobble-head. He then recalled his
Machoke to its Poké Ball, and he and Daryl ran off down the parking lot.

I continued to stand there
and stare, Daryl's words repeating over and over in my mind.  Someone
like me, huh? So much for being
different. I turned to my Pokémon and said in a surprisingly normal voice,
“Well, that was…strange. Dorian, I won't ask what just happened; I did say that
I wanted this wrapped up quickly, so, uh, good job. You can get back in your
Poké Ball now."

Dorian nodded and went back
to his Poké Ball without hesitation. I returned the ball to its holster on my
belt and climbed onto Dust's back.

“Okay, let's get airborne. I
need some air to clear my head."

             He kicked off the ground and soared high above
the buildings. It was a ritual he was familiar with—even before he evolved and
I could ride him. Before then we would find somewhere quiet to sit, but it was
always the same: either Dust or one of my other Pokémon kept me company while I
tried to sort through my thoughts, or sometimes bounced ideas off of them.

Lumiose City was nothing
more than a sea of lights with the mountainous tower sitting the center like a
lighthouse in a multi-colored sea. I felt nothing as I looked at the city below
as the cold air rushed over me. I tried not to focus on what just happened in
the parking lot and instead focused on the flapping of Dust's wings which
sounded like a mournful song. It sounded a lot like those orchestral pieces my
uncle used to listen to. Listening to it was somehow calming. Uncle Ty always
said it was calming to the Pokémon. As Dust flew in a large circle over the
city, staying high enough over the buildings to avoid scaring anyone still
walking the streets, it was all I could think about.

My mind was a complete
jumble of thoughts. Now that Dorian was no longer my central focus, just about
everything else was competing for attention. I thought about a lot of things,
my past, my future, my life in-between the two, my life as I planned it, and
how different things were now. There was no way to focus on a single thing, so
I just laid against Dust's back and let my conscience run wild. In the middle
of the mental storm, Daryl's words kept jumping out at me.

 'She's fucking crazy', he says.  Is that how everyone sees me? And here I
thought I was doing things differently. Looks like I'm right back where I
started, feared and crushing my enemies. That nurse said I was different
tonight, but Daryl was still afraid of me. Granted, that guy was totally asking
for it, but that doesn't make it better. So which is it, am I changing my ways
or am I just finding different ways to be feared?

Dust warbled and I snapped
out of my trance, looking up just in time to see a large flock of Murkrow
flying toward us headed by a large Honchkrow. I gripped Dust as he banked away
from the flock, turning toward Lumiose Tower. A group that size would have no
problems challenging a lone Flygon in the sky and Dust couldn't fight nearly as
well as he could with me on his back. It seemed the flock had other business to
attend to because they stayed their course and left us alone.

When we were clear of the
flock, I asked, “Hey, Dust, what do you think of me as a trainer?"

Dust craned his neck in my
direction and warbled.

“No, I don't wanna hear: 'You're
the greatest, Maya.' I want the truth. You've known me longer anyone else. Are
we really doing things differently or is I really over thinking things? After
tonight, I don't know anymore. I mean, how is battling there a form of
punishment anyway? I already tried talking to Dorian—"

Even over the rushing wind,
I could hear Dust scoff at the mention of having a heart-to-heart with Dorian.

I rolled my eyes and continued.
“Yes, I know. But you know how he is: he won't say 'it's okay' just to make me
feel better. I don't know, maybe…I've been going about this all wrong. At first
I thought about giving up being a trainer—"

Dust gave a surprised cry
and his eyes were wide as he looked over his shoulder.

“Don't worry, I'm not
retiring anytime soon," I said, reassuringly patting his neck. “Besides, I know
quitting after all of this is the easy way out. Maybe I'm going about this all
wrong; maybe I should take the time to actually take a step back and look at
myself. I don't have any friends anymore—"

Dust growled and bucked
beneath me. I squealed and wrapped my arm around his neck. “Except for you, except
for you," I said quickly. “But I've driven everyone else away—and before you
say it—no, Ian and Cassandra don't count. I mean, I consider them more than
acquaintances, but I don't know if they'll stick around if they really knew
about my past. I'm not a serial killer or anything like that, but it's
definitely not something I should be bragging about.

“But I'm getting off-topic.
Dust, I think…I think I need—we need to disappear for a while. Give the battles
and the underground tourney's a rest until I get my head straight. What do you
think, buddy?"

Dust faced forward and
didn't respond. Asking him did feel like a stupid question since he would stand
by me regardless, but getting confirmation didn't hurt.

            I
patted Dust again and said, “Okay, then it's settled. We're officially on
break. Let's go home. We can tell the others in the morning."

            Dust
looked over his shoulder and warbled again.

            “Yeah,
Maude is going to have an absolute fit when
she hears this. But I think in time she'll forgive me. Besides, I'm sure Ian
could use a training partner. Maybe I'll work out a schedule for everyone so
you guys don't get out of shape."

            Dust nodded and made a quick u-turn
and flew toward the Pokémon sanctuary just past the outskirts of Lumiose City.
The sea of lights beneath us began to dim until it was complete darkness. Being
away from all the lights somehow made the temperature drop even further. I
shivered and hugged closer to Dust's body for warmth. He wasn't shaking in the
slightest; he actually still felt warm—the by-product from years of practicing
in cold weather to confront his weakness to ice-types. Dust must've sensed I
was cold because he warbled before gliding closer to the tree tops where it
would be warmer.  

            There
was no welcoming committee as Dust circled around the main house and landed
near the back porch. It wasn't surprising since the last time I looked at a
clock was back in The Under and then was close to midnight. Neither Cassandra
nor Ian would be up now, and the wild Pokémon that lived in the woods nearby
somehow knew Dust from other Flygon, so they wouldn't be bothering us, either. I
released Sunny from her Poké Ball and told both of my Pokémon to get some sleep
before heading toward the backdoor to do the same.

            The
backdoor was surprisingly unlocked. I almost began wondering if something had
happened while I was away when the kitchen suddenly came on, almost blinding
me. My eyes adjusted to the sight of Patrick's sister, Cassandra, standing in
the middle of the kitchen doorway, wearing a cream-colored robe and tapping her
foot on the floor like an impatient mother.

            “Where
have you been, young lady?" she said in a motherly tone before taking a swig
from the bottle she held.

            I
rolled my eyes and tossed my bag on the table. “How many of those have you
had…mom?" I added sarcastically.

Cassandra snorted and
flipped her blue hair so her bangs fell forward, blocking half of her face
which somehow made her look younger. She wasn't much older than me—just topping
out at thirty, but it ragged her nerves when I got on her about her age. “First,
I'm not my mother. Second, you're not my mother—I
can have as many drinks as I feel like. Besides, it isn't even alcohol; it's
tea. And third, you're in no position to judge me."

            “Where
the hell's that coming from? You can't be that angry I stayed out late."

She gave me a
you-know-full-well-what-I'm-talking-about look and sat down in the booth in the
corner. “Nothing. I'm sorry." She held out the bottle. “Want a drink? From what
I hear, you had a helluva night."

I waved away the bottle.
“No, thanks. If I'm gonna drink, I need something stronger than tea. Although,
it's probably better if I don't. I'm already a battle junkie, I'd rather not
add drinking to the list."

“You know what they say: the
first step is admitting it." She took another sip and we sat in silence minus
the low hum of the refrigerator. My hand inched toward Dust's Poké Ball hanging
on its chain around my neck. Whenever he wasn't in it, the ball always felt
lighter, but holding it at this time never brought me any comfort.

“Y'know, Maude was pretty
pissed when she found out you were going to a tourney without her," Cassandra
said, breaking the silence.

“I only needed two Pokémon.
Besides, Maude doesn't like easy wins and tonight's tourney was nothing but
rookies."

Cassandra's brow wrinkled as
she looked at me. “If you only needed two Pokémon, why did you bring Dorian
along? Besides, didn't you say you needed three to enter?"

I stared at the cabinets on
the other side of the kitchen and refused to meet Cassandra's eyes.

“Maya…Did you seriously
enter that tourney with two Pokémon knowing you needed three?"

“Um...no?"

Cassandra slammed her bottle
on the table. “Dammit, Maya! We talked about this. Challenging tournaments with
fewer Pokémon than required puts a strain on them. If you need a challenging
opponent so badly, why not go to the League and ask for your title back?"

I didn't answer. Cassandra
knew full well why I wasn't going back to the League, and I was sick of having
that same conversation with her. I didn't deserve the title. In many of my old
battles, I used brutal tactics that left my opponents bed-ridden for days. I
was feared among my fellow trainers and I liked it. A good champion did not
make her opponents cry, put in the Pokémon Center for days, or break their
spirit. And after what happened when I defended my title, the League wasn't
exactly sorry to hear I was stepping down. Even if they weren't upset, I didn't
want the title back.

The awkward silence once
again blanketed the kitchen. I decided to sit there and count the minutes until
Cassandra broke the silence again.

Fifteen minutes had almost
passed before she spoke up again. “How long are you gonna sit there and pretend
there's nothing bothering you?"

“Huh? What makes you think
there's something bothering me?" I asked.

“You're still sitting there
and it's like two in the morning."

“I was thinking about how
Ian and I were gonna trick you into attending an AA meeting," I said,
shrugging.

            Cassandra
smiled, but her eyes clearly said, “Fuck you, Maya", which made me smile. She
leaned back in her seat as if trying to look casual, but her smile had faded. “Ian
filled me in on what happened tonight. I'm not gonna ask if you wanna talk
about it, but I need to know if you're good."

            I
leaned on the table, and shrugged again. The truth is…I'm scared. I'm 23 years old and already looking
back on my life and realizing I fucked up. I'm scared that it's too late to do
anything about it. I'm scared the only way I'm going to get the money together
to keep The Beacon is to do the things I swore I would never do again. I'm
scared that helping this place thrive won't absolve me of the things I've done.
And I'm scared of what you and Ian will do if you knew what I was really like. “Yeah, I'm good," I said.

“All
right. If you say you're good…" she slid out of the booth, tossed her
unfinished drink in the fridge, and turned toward the door.

“I'm
thinking of taking a break from battling," I said.

Cassandra
froze in the doorway. She stood there for at least a minute without moving as
if letting my response sink in. Then she bowed her head slightly and her
shoulders heaved as she let out a loud sigh before she faced me again. “You
mean, to look for your brother?"

I
frowned. “How do you go from battling hiatus, to looking for a missing person?"

Cassandra
sighed and leaned on the doorway. “I've seen the way you hold that stuffed
Absol you keep in your room. I thought you closed that chapter—but I shouldn't
be too surprised; you never talked about it, and I never wanted to push the
issue. I know first-hand what it's like to have something you don't wanna talk
about, like never measuring up to your parents' standards, or feeling closer to
Pokémon than actual people, or getting jealous of your Pokémon because he looked
better in your dress than you did—"

“Wait,
what?"

Cassandra's
eyes widened and she began playing with her hair. “What? Nothing. You were
talking about your brother?"

I
rolled my eyes and chose to ignore her obvious redirection. “I never talked
about it because I never found Bryce. After my fourth gym badge, it was getting
harder to keep up my training and the search for my missing brother. I had to
choose one, and I figured maybe I should put the matter with Bryce to rest. Plus
I was holding Patrick and Neil back, and it bothered me."

There
was a flash of sadness in Cassandra's blue eyes at the mention of her brother's
name that quickly faded. “But if you already made peace with it, why are you
starting it up again?"

Actually, there are
several reasons. One, I never truly made peace with it; it still bothers me
that I never found him. Also since I ran away from home to find him, I don't
wanna show my face to my family without something to show for it.

“Lately,
memories of how badly I wanted my brother back have been jumping to the front
of my mind," I said. “Maybe the lack of closure is bothering me."

“Maya,
I'm gonna be straight with you: It's been, what, twelve years since your
brother went missing?"

“It's
closer to fourteen actually."

“Exactly.
Even if I thought this was a good idea, the trail's cold. I think you should
just talk to your family and find another way to get closure. I mean, come on,
after fourteen years, you still haven't gotten over it by now?"

“I'm
sorry, I didn't realize there was a set period for grieving."

“Maya,
I didn't mean—"

“Well,
what did you mean, Cassandra? Besides, 'Hey you're brother's dead, get over
yourself?' " I asked my voice rising. “I already told you once: this is
different. It changes things when you don't have the answers. I ran away from
home and spent almost two years running around in the wild and chasing after
leads to come up with nothing. Finding Bryce was my soul reason for becoming a
trainer. I can't just brush off that I never found him."

Silence
took over the conversation as Cassandra stood in the doorway. She looked hurt by
my speech, but didn't say anything. I wasn't about to sit around for another 15
minutes, so I rose from my seat and headed for the stairs.

I
was about halfway up the stairs when she spoke again, “Look, I'm sorry. I'm
probably one of the few people who understands how it feels to have a single
purpose spurring you on, only to wake up one day and realize it'll never happen.
Take it from someone who's been down that road: You're family won't care about
how many trophies you bring home as long as you come back."

I
sighed and leaned on the railing. “Cassandra,—"

“Don't.
Before you say anything, it's late, we've had a long day, and getting all real
like this is getting depressing. If you wanna finish this argument, can we
please do it in the morning?"

I
nodded and went straight to my room. The room was almost pitch-black, but I had
no problem navigating the minefield of shoes, clothes, and discarded Pokémon
toys covering the floor. I tossed my bag into the corner and opened Dorian's
Poké Ball. The room lit up briefly revealing Aqua, Arbor, and Sparks curled up
on the floor sleeping on the far side of the room before plunging everyone into
darkness.

I
flopped onto the bed and my eyes closed the moment my head hit the pillow.

****

“Okay,
Maya," Uncle Ty said, leaning forward in his chair. “There's one question I
need to ask you: Are you sure you want to do this? What you're planning…what
you're asking me to do…you're parents aren't gonna like it. I don't like it. You
need to understand: Once you start, you won't be able to give up part way and
think you can pretend it never happened. It's gonna be hard, very hard, and
there's no guarantee you'll like what you find. But I know you're going to run
off and do this regardless of whether I help you or not. I'll ask again: Are
you certain you want to go down this road?"

I
straightened up. Uncle Ty was warning me of what I was getting into. His face
was serious and rigid. He no longer looked like the retired middle-aged
ex-trainer who was speaking to his niece. He spoke with the voice of a natural-born
leader, calm, strong, and confident. But his eyes were saying something else.
Behind his square-rimmed reading glasses, his eyes were begging me to say no.

I get it, Unc. But you
won't scare me away. This is Bryce we're talking about; he's FAMILY. I don't care how
hard it is, I don't care what I need to do. I'm NOT
abandoning him. Our family needs him back.

“I
get it, Uncle Ty," I said in the firmest voice I could muster. “But I'm not a
baby—I know exactly what I'm doing. I
plan to leave home and start my Pokémon journey and find my brother. You know
me; when I set my mind to something, I see it through. I won't let anything stop
me."

Uncle
Ty leaned back in his seat. Once again, he looked tired like a man who had
lived longer than he planned to. “I know, Maya. That's what scares me the
most."