It was almost odd, how normal it felt to wake up the next day.

  Maybe it was because she’d actually slept well. Maybe it was because she’d spent the day quietly sorting everything into neat little boxes. Either way, the result was the same. When Cynthia opened her eyes, she just felt…

  Normal.

  Cynthia raised a hand over her head and looked at it. Even in the dimmed lighting through the tarp of the tent, she could make out the thin white stripes where her nails had dug into her hands.

  One and a half days ago, those had been cuts, hurting and bloody.

  Now?

  They just felt tender.

  She dropped her hand over her eyes, letting out a sigh.

  …

  Myst was already awake when Cynthia finally managed to crawl out of her tent. He sat cross-legged on the grass, eyes closed, surrounded by Ralts and Rei. All three of them looked exhausted, but still, they meditated.

  It was an odd sight. Ralts she could understand. While she was excitable in her own way, she was still prone to just sitting still sometimes... But Rei?

  Seeing Rei sit still was like watching a thunderstorm politely wait its turn.

  And yet, there she was. Eyes closed. Breathing slow. Perfectly still.

  Cynthia blinked and took a few cautious steps forward, until she was standing near enough to see the faint tremble of his lips, like he was struggling not to smile. It was such a Myst thing. Trying to meditate, but having to fight off a grin because that, somehow, felt more natural. Honestly, some part of her wanted to remind him that meditation was supposed to be natural. That if he actually wanted any of the benefits, he needed to relax.

  But the other part…?

  She stared at his face, the quiet peace that settled over it. The absence of laughter, of effort. It was rare to see him like this. Without the mask. Without the jokes. Without a smile, real or not.

  He looked different.

  Less…

  Young.

  Most of the time, she forgot he claimed to be seventeen or eighteen. He didn’t act like it. Lacked too much basic knowledge, too much common sense. Talking to him sometimes felt like talking to a particularly clever seven-year-old.

  But other times?

  Her thoughts drifted back to last night. The way the firelight had caught his features. The way he’d looked at her and smiled, soft and—

  Her lips twitched upward, and she turned away.

  When she walked toward the forest, eager to start her own training, nobody saw the skip in her step.

  …

  Cynthia carefully fastened her backpack to the rack over her back wheel, feeling a faint flicker of trepidation. She knew, intellectually, that the odds of it falling off weren’t any higher than if she were wearing it, but after the past few days?

  Some part of it wanted it slung over her back, even if it would be somewhat uncomfortable.

  Still, as she just stood there, Myst didn’t wait a second. He more or less flung his bag onto the bike, like he didn’t want to hold it another second, then picked up Rei and gently dropped her into the basket up front.

  Rei crossed her arms with a snort, like she hadn’t been loudly complaining just an hour ago about how Ralts got “preferential treatment” for being allowed to ride outside the Poké Ball.

  Myst smirked at her, then glanced over at Cynthia.

  “You need help with that thing?” He asked, leaning on his bike a little too casually.

  Cynthia flinched, jerking her hand away from her pack.

  “No, eh, I mean, I was just thinking about some stuff.”

  Myst’s smile deepened.

  “Stuff, huh? Must be very specific stuff, considering you look like you’re trying to unlock the secrets of the universe by staring at your backpack.”

  Cynthia narrowed her eyes. Was this going to be one of those days? The kind where Myst took three times his usual joy in teasing her for no reason at all?

  He grinned wider. And just as he opened his mouth—

  “Oh! There you are!”

  The voice was high-pitched, cheerful, and just a little too smooth to be sincere.

  Cynthia’s hand jumped to her belt before she caught herself.

  A blue-haired woman, no, older girl maybe, stood nearby, waving. Next to her was a boy who looked slightly younger, frowning as he studied them.

  “Didn’t we agree we’d travel together today? Right, these are the ones I told you about, Luke!” the girl said, all in a rush.

  Luke frowned deeper, glancing at them, then back to her.

  “Aren’t they a little young to be traveling with you?” he asked.

  The girl didn’t miss a beat, her eyes met Cynthia’s, smile dazzling… and fake enough to make Cynthia feel like she was staring at a female copy of Myst.

  “We talked yesterday, really hit it off. And since you and the others wanted more time to prep, I figured I’d head out with them first. We’ll meet up in Oreburgh anyway, no skipping that that, right?”

  Myst tilted his head and glanced at Cynthia, eyes twinkling. For a moment, he just looked at her. Then he grinned, all mock betrayal.

  “Oh? You hit it off with someone without telling me? I thought we shared things, Cynthia. Was this when I had to explain to everybody why the inn burned down? Unbelievable. You leave me to the sharks, while waltzing off and getting yourself a new friend.”

  He sniffed once, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

  Cynthia looked at Myst.

  Then at the girl.

  Then at the sky.

  And sighed.

  There were still far too many hours left in this day.

  …

  She stared at the blue-haired woman in front of them, who had been biking awkwardly alongside them, until she'd suddenly jumped off and bowed.

  “Sorry for using you guys like that. I just really needed to get away, you know?” she said, sounding about as apologetic as someone could while still smiling.

  Cynthia opened her mouth.

  Then closed it.

  Honestly, it felt like an overreaction. Had it been a little uncomfortable when this woman came running, yelling for them to wait a second before they’d mounted their bikes?

  Yes.

  But still, she was a girl too. Cynthia recognized the awkward shuffle, the too-bright smile, the quiet panic of someone trying to get away from a friend who’d shown interest when you just… weren’t interested back.

  “It’s not a big deal.” Cynthia sighed.

  The blue-haired woman gave a tight, uneasy smile and looked like she was about to apologize again—

  But Myst cut her off first.

  “Yeah, seriously, don’t worry about it,” he said, flashing his usual easy grin. “We were just a little confused, you know? Not every day someone wants to tag along for no reason.” He tilted his head, mischief flickering in his eyes. “Not that I minded, after all, it’s not every day a cute girl chases after me.”

  Cynthia blinked.

  Then felt it—

  A flicker. A spark. A tiny, absolutely ridiculous flare of heat in her chest.

  Sharp, irrational, and utterly unwanted.

  She crushed it flat and shoved it down where it couldn’t do any damage, just as Johanna opened her mouth.

  “Wow, I guess I’m going from one awkward situation straight into another,” Johanna said breezily, lifting her chin with the practiced air of an old-school clan matron. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to turn down your advance. You’re far too young for me.”

  For a second, Myst just stared at her, caught somewhere between stunned and impressed.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Then he grinned and gave her a thumbs up. “Fair enough. Still got the cardio boost out of it.”

  Johanna laughed, shaking her head. Her smile softened into something more real. “Still, thanks for playing along. I think I actually would've died of awkwardness if you two had just biked away and left me there like that.”

  She tapped her forehead with the heel of her palm. “Ugh, I keep forgetting, Name’s Johanna, though you probably—”

  She stopped, held up a finger, and swept her eyes over the two of them, slow, sharp and assessing. Then, after a beat, she pointed straight at them.

  “…Actually,” she said, tone shifting, “I just realized. You have no idea who I am, do you?”

  For a second, Cynthia swore she could hear the wind rush by, even though the grass didn’t so much as twitch.

  Cynthia paused.

  The name was familiar, but only in the way half-remembered trivia lingered in the back of her mind, the kind that didn’t matter. She glanced Johanna up and down. Not a conference winner. Not a runner-up. Not in the top eight. Not even the sixteen.

  Cynthia had studied almost every match in the conference since she was twelve. She’d analyzed their teams, the switch timings, the last-minute counter-picks. She could name half of them by voice alone. This girl? She wasn’t one of them.

  So what did that leave?

  Maybe she was a Gym leader from another regio—

  “Winner of the most recent Grand Festival? Sinnoh’s most famous Contest star?” Johanna offered, voice dipping into something halfway between hopeful and tired.

  Cynthia stared blankly.

  “Oh. Yeah, I mean…”

  She fiddled with the Poké Balls on her belt, trying to figure out the politest possible way to say she’d never watched a single Contest in her life.

  Johanna’s face went deadpan.

  “Honestly, I did want people to treat me like a normal person… but I didn’t think this was how I was going to get my wish,” she muttered, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.

  Myst tilted his head. “Contests... those are like beauty shows, right?” he asked.

  Cynthia’s brain short-circuited. She didn’t know much about Contests, wasn’t interested, never had been, but even she knew that describing them as beauty pageants was the fastest way to piss off a Coordinator.

  “Myst didn’t mea—”

  “I mean, kind o—”

  They both stopped.

  Johanna paused, then subtly grinned.

  “Oh, you thought I’d be offended?” she said, voice light. “Don’t worry. Most people don’t really get what Contests are. Calling them a beauty show?” She shrugged. “If you’d met me five or six years ago, I would’ve been mad.”

  Her smile softened, bright and unbothered.

  “But now? Honestly, it’s kind of right. Beauty, looking good, that’s the heart of a Contest. We don’t just battle to win; we battle to perform. Power in motion, technique as showmanship. It’s not worse. Just different.”

  A soft sound came from the basket.

  Myst looked down.

  Rei was staring up at Johanna like she couldn’t decide if the woman was stupid... or stupid.

  Johanna followed his gaze and grinned.

  “Oh, are you interested?” she cooed. “I think you’d be perfect for it. Buneary are super popular in Contests.”

  Rei turned to Myst, eyes flat, and wrinkled her little button nose.

  “Bun-Bunneary.”

  I would rather die.

  Johanna squealed.

  “Oh, she’s so cute! What did she say? Was that a yes?”

  Myst made a sound that could’ve been a laugh or a cough, or maybe just pure panic, and glanced toward the road.

  “How about we just keep biking for now?” he tried.

  Johanna pouted.

  “Hey! Just because you’re not into it doesn’t mean you should hold your Pokémon back. You never know, you might even like it.”

  Cynthia raised a hand and pressed it lightly over her mouth, hiding a smile.

  …

  They’d stopped for lunch beneath the windswept shade of a crooked tree, unwrapping sandwiches that had been packed tight in paper. Cynthia tugged off her helmet and let the breeze ruffle through her hair. It smelled faintly of dry grass, old bark, and road dust, better than it had any right to.

  “Ah, so you’re both doing the circuit?” Johanna asked, halfway through a bite of sandwich. “I mean, I should’ve guessed, but I didn’t expect it.”

  She glanced between the two of them, chewing thoughtfully.

  “Most people who take on the Eterna and Oreburgh Gyms first are usually…”

  Johanna trailed off, eyes flicking to Cynthia and then to Myst.

  Cynthia just stared.

  Myst, predictably, didn’t catch the pause at all.

  “Well—” Johanna cleared her throat, trying to smooth it over. “—they’re usually done by now, you know? You’re about a week behind almost everyone who uses Cycling Road this time of year, so... yeah. We were kind of surprised to find actual trainers here.”

  Cynthia exhaled through her nose.

  “Well, I am done,” she said, trying to keep her tone neutral. “Just got held up for a while.”

  Johanna smiled, but it tightened at the edges.

  “Well, not everyone ends up doing the full trainer thing,” Johanna said, a little too breezy. “I mean, it’s a tough road, lots of people switch to breeding, or working with as assistants to Rangers. Honestly, even getting a normal job isn’t something to be ashamed of. Only one in a thousand makes it as a professional tra—"

  Myst muffled a laugh.

  Cynthia’s jaw clenched.

  Johanna faltered.

  “Oh. That came out wrong.” She raised both hands, wincing. “Sorry. I didn’t mean you couldn’t hack it or anything—I just... You reminded me of my little sister for a second, and I kind of defaulted into big-sis mode.”

  Myst burst out laughing.

  Cynthia snapped her head toward him, eyes narrowed to knives.

  He didn’t notice.

  Then, after nearly ten seconds, he finally looked up—

  Just in time to see Johanna’s confused frown, and Cynthia’s withering glare.

  And burst into another fit of laughter.

  “Cynthia—” he wheezed.

  “Not good enough—”

  He laughed harder, barely breathing.

  “As a trainer?”

  He dry heaved.

  Johanna blinked. Then muttered under her breath, “I guess I just made a fool of myself, huh?”

  …

  It felt like it took forever, though it was really less than a minute, for Myst to stop laughing.

  Even so, Cynthia wasn’t going to lie. A small smile had crept onto her face. It was kind of funny, in a weird way. After the interview, people kept looking at her like they knew her, like she was strong, but not in a way that mattered.

  So for Johanna to just assume she’d fallen behind because she’d struggled with the first two Gyms?

  Well… it was underestimating her, sure.

  But at least it came from a place of kindness.

  If a slightly patronizing one.

  “Cynthia Shirona…” Johanna tilted her head, studying her. “So, I’m guessing you’re one of the big names in the circuit this year, huh? I mean, judging by your companion’s reaction—” she nodded toward Myst, who was still working through the tail end of a breathless grin, “—you don’t exactly seem like someone struggling.”

  Cynthia nodded slowly.

  “I mean, I guess you could say that,” she said, not at all modestly.

  Johanna paused for a second, processing.

  “Well, I am sorry then. I guess you got held up for some reason or what?”

  Cynthia shrugged, brushing a hand across her belt.

  “You could say some mysterious circumstances led to me spending an extra three weeks in Eterna. If everything had gone according to plan, I’d probably be in Hearthome by now.”

  Johanna nodded easily, accepting it without prying.

  “Well, it’s good you’re adapting, at least. When I first tried the circuit, I crashed out a little over half way. Partly because I just found Contests way more fun, but also…” she shook her head, “I couldn’t keep up with the schedule. Traveling constantly, trying to train your Pokémon and come up with solid Gym strategies? It’s brutal.”

  She took a bite of her sandwich, then gestured vaguely with it.

  “Contests are easier in that way. You only need five Ribbons, not eight badges, and you can spread it out over multiple years instead of being locked into one.”

  In the corner of her eye, Cynthia saw Myst narrow his eyes.

  “Wait, multiple years?” he asked. “So, Badges expire, and Ribbons don’t?”

  Johanna shook her head, chewing.

  “Nope. That’s part of what makes it a better system, honestly. You’ve got time to actually live your life while competing. If you only get four Ribbons one year, you can always go for the fifth next time.”

  Myst pouted.

  “So… I have to hand in my badges at the end of the year?”

  Johanna chuckled.

  “Don’t worry, no one’s coming to repo your badges. You get to keep them, think of them like a record of how far you made it, not just what you did this season.” She shrugged. “But if you want to qualify for the Conference? Yeah, you need to get all eight in one run. I only made it to six.”

  She leaned back, brushing crumbs from her lap.

  “Still, sounds like you’ve got some rushing to do if Hearthome’s your next stop.”

  Cynthia glanced sideways at Myst.

  He smiled awkwardly.

  “I still need to get to Oreburgh first. I, uh, started almost a month late… so I’ve only got one badge.”

  Johanna blinked.

  “You started a month late?” She whistled softly. “Wow. You’ve got your work cut out for you. That’s why you were talking about biking all day, huh?”

  Cynthia nodded.

  “Yeah. Since we already lost a day, we figured we’d just push through and get all the way to Rest Stop 8 today.”

  Johanna lifted an eyebrow, looking impressed.

  “Damn. I guess you had to burn a day because of that whole thing with the Hun—”

  She stopped herself mid-word, the syllable drying out in her throat. Her lips pressed together, as if the rest of the sentence had turned bitter before it could leave.

  Cynthia smiled, tight, practiced, not entirely real. Definitely not a flinch.

  Johanna sighed.

  “Okay, I’m honestly sorry. I feel like I’ve been sticking my foot in my mouth this entire conversation, haven’t I?”

  Cynthia trailed a finger along her belt, debating how to say that, yeah, she kind of had, without making it worse. But before she could find the words, Myst spoke instead.

  “I mean, yeah, but it’s fine.” He gave a small, almost sheepish laugh. “If I hadn’t gone around telling everyone that a Hunter was the one who burned down the inn, you wouldn’t have been curious, right?” He shrugged. “So really, that one’s on me.”

  …

  After almost eleven hours of biking, Cynthia had to admit it.

  She didn’t really like Johanna.

  Which made sense.

  She loved her.

  The food was made from scratch, tasted like a dream, and absolutely blew her usual curry-in-a-bag out of the water.

  Myst, for once, wasn’t just eating, he was devouring. Or, well, devouring a little faster than he usually did.

  Even Rei had abandoned her usual picky tendencies, scarfing down her share with fierce efficiency, the taste of the food strong enough to mask the gritty, store-bought nutrient powder Myst had mixed in.

  “I guess it was good then?” Johanna asked, holding up a ladle with an easy smile.

  Myst nodded enthusiastically. “It’s incredible. Seriously, if you ever opened a restaurant, I’d line up.”

  Cynthia looked down at her own bowl. It was empty, and she hadn’t even noticed.

  “This is more than just good,” she agreed quickly, “It’s fantastic. You could become a chef if you can cook like this.”

  Johanna laughed, modest and charming, tucking a strand of blue hair behind her ear.

  “Thanks, but honestly? My mom was the real cook. I just picked up a few things for when I’m on the road.”

  She stirred the pot slowly, gaze flicking toward the firelight.

  “It’s funny,” she murmured. “I used to think I’d be out here forever. Now I kind of miss the quiet.”

  For a while, no one spoke. They just ate silently, listening to the campfire crackling softly. Roselia leaned lazily against a tree root, his petals only half-fanned, his scarf askew like he’d grown too relaxed to fix it. Queenie was stretched out on her side nearby, letting the warmth from the fire soak into her scales, her eyes closed but ears subtly twitching at each spark.

  Ralts sat beside Myst’s foot, picking gently at the last bite of food in her lap.

  As she finished, Cynthia leaned back against her pack, letting herself sink into the quiet. Her legs ached. Her shoulders felt tight. But it was the kind of tired that came from moving forward, not from running away.

  The kind of tired that felt good.

  Myst let out a low breath beside her and stretched, arms flopping behind his head. Ralts mimicked the gesture a second later, raising her tiny arms with a quiet squeak and then falling gently backward into the grass like she’d rehearsed it.

  “That was a good day,” he said simply.

  Cynthia glanced at him. At the half-lidded eyes, the faint smile tugging at his mouth, the way his hair still stuck up at weird angles from the wind turning it into a crows nest.

  She huffed a soft laugh. “It was long.”

  “Still good.”

  Johanna poked at the fire with a stick. “You know… if you two keep traveling like this, you might catch up sooner rather than later.”

  Cynthia didn’t answer right away. The sky above had deepened to plum, stars flickering in like shy secrets. The moment felt still. Safe. Almost like nothing had changed.

  But her eyes drifted to Myst’s pack.

  The one he hadn’t opened all day.

  Ralts’ eyes followed hers. She tilted her head, frowning faintly, like she could sense something was wrong with it.

  They hadn’t talked about it yet. Not once. Not at breakfast. Not on the road. Not now. Maybe some part of it had been because of Johanna joining, but Cynthia couldn’t lie to herself.

  They wouldn’t have talked about it anyway.

  She looked away.

  … And they probably wouldn’t talk about it anytime soon.

  Her fingers brushed lightly against her belt. Queenie, eyes half-lidded, nudged her leg softly with her snout, barely a tap, just enough to be felt.

  “Maybe,” she said, voice quiet. “But I don’t think I care if we do. Taking it easy for a little bit is fine, we can catch up later.”

  The fire crackled.

  Rei snored softly in the basket of blankets Johanna had set out earlier, her small body curled up in contentment.

  Riolu hesitated slightly, like he wanted to lie down next to her, but didn’t dare.

  Cynthia smiled slightly at the sight, at how normal it was.

  But nobody said anything more.

  And the silence held.