I Will Touch the Skies – A Pokemon Fanfiction

Interlude – Confidants II

Interlude – Confidants II

A/N: Happy new year! Here's the final part of this interlude

INTERLUDE - CONFIDANTS II

The hum of the world was a song he always heard but never understood. Vibrations threaded through his exoskeleton, a constant rhythm that spoke of prey moving, hiding, breathing. Each tremor was a verse, every whisper of movement a stanza in the predator's symphony. He did not see the world as others did—the numerous colors Slowking or Toxicroak spoke of were muted. It was, however, a more brilliant world than his trainer could ever hope to see. A large hat covered Cecilia's head to keep her eyes shielded from the sun; she leaned back into a chair and sat on a terrace belonging to some feeding establishment. The terrace buzzed with the idle chatter of humans, an endless stream of soft voices and softer bodies. Scizor scanned the crowd, instinctively assessing. None of them would last more than a second should he rise, should his predatory gaze mark them as prey. Their confidence baffled him—so exposed, so unguarded, as though the fragile shell of their lives was impenetrable. Perhaps he would never understand them.

Still, he obeyed. Cecilia had ordered him to sit, and so he did. The chair beneath him was too small, too fragile, creaking under his weight. His claws rested idly, twitching now and then, craving purpose. The air carried the scent of food—sweet, savory, fleetingly warm. It stirred nothing in him. "It tastes good," Cecilia had told him, her tone light, pleased. He did not care. Food was sustenance first, nothing more.

"Sorry to bring you all the way out there," his trainer said, voice soft. "I've wanted to eat here for a while—you were at the Pokemon Center when it caught my eye."

Needles in his joints, the coldness of gloved human hands, blinding lights, and a consciousness that was barely even there. These so-called 'Centers' were unpleasant, but they allowed him to fight and to push himself further and further. Scizor did not answer; he nodded instead, inclining his head to his trainer. He listened as she kept commenting on the intricacies of the food, a leftover trait from her earliest days as an offspring of her well-off family. He did not particularly care for it, but he engaged. Scizor pointed at the tastiest-looking morsels, and she would tell him what it was, let him taste it, or tell him that she could order one for him if he so wished.

It was pleasant.

His trainer adjusted her hat, leaned forward on the table, and smiled lazily at him as if she was not about to face certain loss in her next battle. She did not care, he knew, because win or lose, a battle, albeit a mockery of a fight for survival he had been through countless times in Eterna Forest, was fun. Her theatrics were fun. Her eccentricity was fun. Her sense of self had been born, and it had brought with it enjoyment beyond her or his wildest dreams. He did not understand most of it, but the voice at his back seemed so engrossed in the clash that he could not help but fight twice as hard.

It was the end of Cecilia's time to feed, now, and she looked rejuvenated, ready to face the giant that would be Aubri Schneider. Her blank eyes were difficult to judge, even now, but the stare felt as if it was longing for something. A ceaseless hunger to be more. It was a look that unsettled many of her fellow humans.

"How well do you recall our first meeting?"

It was crystal clear.

He had smelled them entering his territory and observed for a time, gauging his chances until he'd been ready to strike. He steps out of the shadows and presents himself with a screech in hopes of making the humans and their Pokemon flee, breaking formation so they become easy pickings, but they stand their ground. And so, he lunges forward, going straight for the Pokemon he now calls a comrade—Zolst.

I do as if it was yesterday, Scizor answered. A grin followed, and he snapped his pincers together, attracting attention. Easy pickings.

"What a day that was," she said. "I valued my life so little that I held my friends hostage in order to catch you." Her head cocked to the side with a fluid, unnatural tilt. "I suppose it was a kidnapping."

For a moment, Scizor believed an apology was coming, and he prepared to rebuke her—not because she hadn't done anything wrong. Part of the steel type believed in the rule of the strong, and she had not defeated him on her own, let alone overwhelmed him with numbers. So what worth had she been?

But no. They had hashed out their differences long ago, and through her, Scizor would be able to obtain far more strength than he would alone. Enough to eventually destroy the Sleeping Mother that was Eterna's beating heart and shake up its order.

Why reminisce? Feeling nostalgic? Scizor wondered with a chittering, metallic laugh.

Cecilia could not understand his words, not exactly. But she had learned enough about him by now, and been through enough with her team to understand the gist of most of whatever they said whenever they spoke.

His trainer laughed too, a hearty sound that made his wings flutter despite his best efforts. Her laughter spilled from her lips like it had no bounds, her body moving with it in a way that was too loose, too free. Her head tipped back abruptly, as though a string had been yanked. "Sad?" So she had misunderstood nostalgia for sadness—close enough, in Scizor's eyes. He nodded. "No, no, I'm... no, not always happier than back then, but I certainly am better. I was just thinking about the amount of change a person can go through in such a short time. Such a violent alteration of the self."

Scizor shrugged. His head was more in the coming fight than philosophy; Slowking or Talonflame would have been better partners for this discussion. Still, she had picked him, and he would listen, for that was his duty to her. Sure, he reluctantly said. Experiences make people change, humans faster than Pokemon. Throughout the years he'd spent in the forest, he did not remember changing. New tricks, new ways to fight, new territory, but his way of thinking had remained the same. The bond between human and Pokemon, the shared experiences, learning to know others instead of viewing them as prey or a threat; they had changed him more in a few months than the length of time between when he crawled out of his egg and he was caught.

Finding himself suddenly interested, Scizor did his best to explain this concept to Cecilia. She got the gist of his message, even if some of the details were lost in translation.

"Do you know what the most morbid part is?" she chuckled. "I think that I was stuck in that forest for a while. I was you." Scizor's eyes narrowed and his claws flexed, preparing to snap, but he did not call her stupid quite yet. "Learning how to fight more effectively—how to better kill, but never anything else." She did not lower her voice, and quite a few heads turned her way, some wary, curious, and a few plainly unsettled. "But now I'm out. I can see the sun unobstructed by any canopy or fog, and it's so blinding." She raised a hand to call over a waiter, asking for the bill. "You know how it is, to see our star after a long time without it. It's all-encompassing, and you can hardly make out anything other than obstructing light."

Stop meandering, Scizor said. I already know what you mean.

"Right? I'm changing every day, even now," Cecilia said. "And while I've already burned many a bridge, seeing more of them set aflame would be a shame."

Temperance. She was talking about Temperance.

"You were a solitary soul with no one to leave behind and thus the transition was easier, but I ask you this." A finger tapped their table twice. "How is one supposed to go through this without destroying what they built beforehand, and how do they prevent it?"

A hefty question, one Scizor figured he was ill-fitted to answer, yet she had picked him. His mind did not dare to even think to offer someone else in his stead. You truly do like her, Scizor sighed. So I cannot tell you to burn it like you did with the others—to free yourself of their expectations of you.

"That would have been just like you."Nôv(el)B\\jnn

He couldn't help it; he leaned in, and the table clattered. Then why ask if you expected to hear something you didn't want to?

Her face softened—he had learned human expressions well. "That would be because I trust you. I would not just cut her out like a rotting limb just because you'd tell me to, but I would appreciate hearing your thoughts."

Does she make you happy? he hesitantly asked.

She looked like she'd heard the question many times, the familiarity of it all reflecting in her relaxed state. "Of course. The issue is—it's difficult to trust her. Can I love someone if I look her every action over twice?"

Scizor shrugged. He did not know that type of love, and he did not care for it. When one did not understand something, they were better off telling the truth. After a few moments, he answered, I watched the blonde in silence, observing her before we left southward. The desperation to lie to herself. It had been irritating, even if he hadn't known what it had meant back then. I can tell you that this new one is not the same. She breached your trust, yes, but she came clean soon after. She wants to do good by you.

For a long while, they stayed silent. Enough time for Cecilia to pay the bill and for them to start walking toward the stadium to meet the very woman they'd been talking about and her friends. Scizor loomed behind her, a silent guardian meant to shadow her at all times to show support, but his trainer's face lit up like morning sunlight filtering through the scant openings in Eterna Forest when she saw her mate, and he couldn't help but restrain mocking laughter.

He kept his posture stiff, his gaze scanning their surroundings for anything that might disrupt this nauseatingly sweet reunion. Cecilia gently caressed Temperance's cheek, and one of the friends—a pale girl—stared away with a smile that reminded him of his trainer when she forced herself to look happy.

Back in Eterna Forest, many Pokemon feigned readiness for battle when they crossed his path, and he had done the same—flaring his wings, puffing out his chest, and hissing in a show of bravado. It was all a desperate act to appear stronger than he truly was, hoping to intimidate opponents who could have easily overpowered him.

Scizor thought this girl—Amber—to be horrid at acting.

Louis flinched back—

"Not you. Sorry." Cecilia nibbled on one of her nails. "I feel so much shame all the time, and no matter how many steps I climb toward my journey to reincarnation it's always there, right behind me. No. I have to carry it with me, and it's grown so heavy." The Unovan sighed, shielding her dark skin from the sun with an open palm. The light filtered through the opening in her fingers. "It was easier when I was so angry I couldn't tell it was there."

He understood the... gist of it, or at least he figured he did. Louis awkwardly dragged Cecilia into a side hug. It wasn't smooth—his elbow bumped against her arm, and his hand awkwardly rested just above her opposite shoulder. "Love's hard. I get it. But I discovered something after, uh, you left us that letter and you left running in Coronet. And then when you came back, my hopes and dreams of bettering myself for you were crushed." It was funny to look back on now, to think he had a chance. Back then, however, it had shattered him into a million pieces. Maeve had helped pick them up, and Mira had tagged along for the ride...

Maeve, uh.

He wasn't romantically interested in her, still, but he did miss her. She'd all but vanished, checking in via text once in a blue moon.

"I believe that before you can fully and healthily love another, I think you have to first love yourself," Louis said. "But that's a... utopic vision of it I hold. Insecurities can work to crush a relationship, so I think that if you just bring it up, she'll accommodate your fears."

Cecilia bit her lip. "You're right. You're right, I want to make this work. I'll talk to her—I'll tell her tomorrow. After her friend's birthday party later tonight."

Louis nodded. With how ashamed she was of this topic, he figured she needed time to prepare. "Great."

"So now... how are you doing?" Cecilia asked.

—

Sinnoh's Champion traced a spreadsheet line with a finger, adjusting her reading glasses. Every week, each Sinnohan city and town sent her an expense report, along with budgetary needs she needed to sign on. It was quite the busywork for the people who had to compile all of this, but little for her so long as she looked the numbers over.

For Cynthia, life was an endless stream of work. Sometimes, it was a torrent that threatened to wash her away should she not tighten her grip around her most trusted advisors and her Elite Four, and sometimes, it was like today. A trickle, barely a stream. She had delegated tasks well, and now found herself with only menial work to do for the rest of the day, and it would most likely remain so for a while. She would, after all, be absent for a few weeks after the Conference with the very trainer sitting in her office. Though she'd remain reachable for much of that time, thanks to their proximity to the southern tip of the Battle Frontier, the eventual stretch of radio silence would be inevitable. It would do well to let Sinnoh breathe and function without her while she was gone, even if she felt like the place would collapse without her.

It was not a realistic worry, but one borne of her being so hands-on with every facet of her cherished nation. Togekiss chirped behind her, sending endless waves of soothing calm that kept her going so long as she didn't close her eyes for long. The nightmares—seing that thing every night, observing her silently—would most likely not be something she would ever get used to. With a heavy breath, Cynthia ran a hand through Togekiss' fur—the fairy leaned into the touch—and she glanced at a framed picture of her twin sister, grandmother, and herself they had taken recently near their home with Garchomp behind them. Of course, her dear draconic sister never looked at the camera, and she was blurry.

Cecilia Obel hummed a tune she was preparing for her next set of battles tomorrow. The sun was about to set, with her record for the day being one victory and two defeats. She was in the middle of the pack, but she would need to ramp things up should she want to progress past groups.

At least she looked to be enjoying herself. Cynthia dove back into her spreadsheet—

"That's your sister, right?"

Cecilia leaned forward in her seat, eyeing the side of the framed picture. Cynthia smiled, turning the picture so she could get a better look. "Celeste, yes. That's my grandmother, Carolina." She pointed at the older woman. "She'd dislike you."

The teenager deflated. "Why?"

"I just know my grandmother." Oh, she'd be polite to her face, but behind closed doors, she would talk all about how the kid's behavior unsettled her and how 'nosy' she'd be. "My sister would like you, though. She'd find you interesting."

Cecilia's blank eyes fixated on the picture. "I wanted a sister when I was young. I thought that we'd be able to go through everything together. That I'd keep her protected from Clarence." A sad smile reached her lips, and she put the frame down. "A foolish endeavor. It's a good thing he didn't put any more children into the world." She returned to humming a song—quite an upbeat one. She seemed in an optimistic mood despite the somber topic. "I thought of Amy Saunier as a sister, once."

"People change," Cynthia offered; the statement seemed to resonate inside of Cecilia.

"Some for the worse." The Unovan shook her head in disgust. "What's it like to have a family?"

"It is... a lot of work," the Champion said, "it's a bond you have to constantly nurture, despite what people may tell you. But you know about that already. For a while, I let this bond decay, but I'm hoping to make the most of it now." Pride surged in Cynthia's chest. Bubbling excitement surged within her, forcing her to push words out. "I'm going to be an aunt."

"Th—that's the fifth time you've told me that since we started these meetings."

"And I'll tell you a sixth," Cynthia shot back without hesitation. "You're starting to sound like Bertha. Can you imagine it? Celeste with a kid—Arceus, that feels so strange to say, but I'm so excited to spoil the little one... I can't wait to teach him all about battling."

Togekiss let out a worried chirp, telling her to calm down, but she ignored him. There was no age too early to be taught about Pokemon.

"Why is that strange? She's your age..." Cecilia muttered, nearly under her breath.

Cynthia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Of course, she wouldn't understand—not yet. That kind of perspective only came with time, when the years began to slip past unnoticed, and news of friends marrying or starting families became the norm. Life had a way of moving faster than anyone was prepared to admit.

"Did I say something wrong?" Cecilia's tone rose in a mild panic.

"You'll get it one day—ah, yes, family. Nurturing bonds," Cynthia continued, finding her footing. "This is the case with every relationship, be it a friend, a partner, or even a co-worker. You tend to it like a garden. Some days, it's easy—sunshine, fresh soil, everything flourishing without much effort. Other days, it's storms, droughts, or pests trying to tear it all apart. But the key is consistency. You don't give up just because it's hard until you're certain your plants are irreparably damaged and dead."

Cecilia had already begun to diligently write notes on her laptop—

"Do not do that," Cynthia said.

The girl's fingers froze. "Take notes?"

"Yes. Do not take my word for anything unrelated to Pokemon battling or governance." Sometimes, she forgot the image she'd cultivated over the years. The infallible Champion who could never lose nor be wrong. "I'm just giving my opinion."

"Your opinion is still... appreciated." Cecilia gulped and scratched her neck; she was the picture of anxiety in that moment. Blinking rapidly, dry-lipped, twitching. All of that lasted barely a second. Cecilia pushed her chair back with a soft scrape, the hesitation in her movements giving way to a growing steadiness. "I'm going to try even harder from now on."

"Good. Don't forget—in two days, Aliyah will be here."

The Unovan nodded, thanked Cynthia for her time, and left.

"It's just you and me now, Togekiss," she muttered. "Let's move on to Floaroma's spreadsheet..."