Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Chapter 51: Day 19, Part 1 - Take My Hand

I was committed to this.

Even if it drew attention to us, and even if there was a chance we would get some looks, I was committed to this.

I would hold his paw in public and enjoy it.

"B-but…" Fenn stammered, his face turning red under his cream colored fur. "Oswald, w-we don't have to."

"But you always wanted to," I retorted gently, making it a point to keep our fingers linked together. "That's what you told me."

He looked away, one foot still hanging back in our room. "I-I know…" he muttered.

I tried not to frown, but he was making it hard for me. I knew he wasn't trying to. That last second realization that yes, we would have to try if we wanted to make this worth it, was hitting me, too. Like an apple dropping on my head before the whole tree collapses. But daunting as it was, I was well past the point of caring about what people thought of me.

…Okay, that was a lie. I glanced down the hall just to see if anyone was observing us even then, considering it was still possible to make up an excuse. When we would get down to the first floor and walk hand-in-hand amongst the crowd, though…

I softened my expression, rubbing my thumb over the back of his paw. "Hey," I said, "it'll be okay. I'm here."

He looked at me then, and what a beautiful thing he was. His lip was quivering. His eyes shimmered like diamonds. That was the best part, wasn't it? Being able to turn my gaze and see the person I cared about the most right next to me? We were boyfriends now—a couple. Along with that label came all of the comfort and safety we could want—nothing could tear us apart now. I mean, just yesterday we could barely talk to each other.

It was a juvenile thing, how my pulse quickened when I was by him, close to him. I thought I could control myself better than that.

Or maybe I was still getting used to the new me.

Fenn said, "I-I'm just worried." It showed on his face and the smoldering of his flame vents.

"I know. I'm uh…" I scratched the back of my head with my free paw, smiling awkwardly. "I'm not sure how this will go either."

Fenn looked away again, his ears drooping like low hanging leaves. "They might…c-call us names…"

They could. I could think of a few off the top of my head they could shout at us. That alone would ruin our day, confine us to lonely corners of the castle.

But I had to keep reminding myself: none of it would come close to Anemone's promises. She was going to be pissed the next time I saw her—which could be anytime—and nothing could change that.

So who cares? I had nothing to be afraid of. Especially not a bunch of homophobes.

"They can say whatever the hell they want," I stated. "It won't change a thing. I'll still love you and I won't let go. So, Fenn?"

His eyes trailed up, expectant, as though he knew what I was going to ask. That didn't seem to bother him. Or me, for that matter.

I threw him for a loop anyway, because why not? "I think my stomach is starting to revolt." My scraggly whiskers rose with my smile. "Let's go get something to eat before it unionizes."

"Unionizes…? I-is that another human thing?"

I shrugged. "I guess? Probably." And it felt good to say something like that. Nothing about the answer I gave was substantial, yet Fenn's eyes lit up anyway. Both of us liked this new me, I thought.

The second we left the room, Fenn clung not just to my paw but my whole arm as well. He huddled up close to me, to which I jerked in surprise, my shoulder bag being the only thing to keep us from conjoining.

"You're being awfully clingy," I teased.

"…S-sorry," Fenn mumbled. Being this close, I could see how subtly he bit his lip and how the insides of his ears glowed ever so subtly with red heat. "It's u-uh…cold."

That sounds like an excuse, I thought. Maybe in the future when I'd be a grumpy old man I'd stake some value in my personal space. But ever since yesterday the two of us had been looking for reasons to throw ourselves into a cuddle pile at every given opportunity. Deep down I thought Fenn wanted to make up for lost time. Meanwhile, I just couldn't help myself. Two perfectly good reasons to give that Quilava another hug.

I kissed him on the forehead, right between his flame vents. "You're the fire type, not me."

I pulled back just in time to evade a spurt of embers, the tiny bits of orange popping up to paw at my whiskers. He nuzzled his head under my chin once it settled. His warmth coursed through my chest, making my heart skip a beat.

"A-and you're a stinky water type," Fenn cheekily reminded me back.

"At least I can take baths, smelly."

He pouted up at me. It was a smug pout, like he was getting exactly what he wanted but was acting unsatisfied just because. "Y-you kissed a smelly Quilava, then," he said.

I chuckled low in my throat, moving my face closer to his. "Want me to do it again?"

Fenn craned his neck up until our noses were inches apart. The answer was written along the dreamy reflection in his eyes. He made an indulgent, crooning noise, somewhere between a purr and a coo. Along with it came an uttering of the word, "P-please…"

Who was I to deny such a simple request? I slid my paw up his back, finding purchase at the nape of his neck. His paw—the one that wasn't furiously gripping my own—ran over the fur on my chest, stopping at the opposite shoulder. We interlocked our lips and played a little game of tug-of-war. Pressing into each other here, nibbling a little there, all while giggling like playful puppies.

Something I had gradually come to notice over the past day was that, when it came to physical affection, Fenn tended to become a bit forceful—moreso than before. Gripping me, digging his short claws into my fur as if trying to lovingly open me up like a present, often taking more than I could give without another breath. I supposed it made sense even if it did throw me off; all of that time keeping quiet had to be balanced somehow.

I won't lie…it emasculated me a bit to know he could absolutely overpower me. But I wasn't going to act like that was a dealbreaker or anything.

One of us had to peel off the other, which ended up being me. I dragged that Quilava along despite his displeasure, but at least that displeasure was linked to his lingering desire to kiss me more, not his anxiety.

Other than that, It was unfortunately business as usual as we headed down to the first floor. Fenn and I reconciled as part of the most harrowing evening of either of our lives, but the rest of the castle was milling about as if nothing happened. Selfish as it was, I couldn't help but bristle at that fact, in part because that meant the hallways were awash with unwelcome, prying eyes. Although, Fenn explained earlier that it was actually the weekend, and a large portion of the castle was out in town and in general spending time off-work.

For some reason I was just as peeved at how he knew what day it was in the first place. Being out of the loop annoyed me, too.

A lot of things were annoying me, as it turned out. I could feel the hot flush of red prickling my cheeks as I dragged Fenn along, him treating me like a walking barrier. Every time the fur on his hip brushed against mine, I felt him shudder. There were pokemon looking at us, with their eyes darting from up to down then back up again. Some, albeit not many, affixed their faces with one of three expressions: concern, confusion, or if I was really lucky—disgust. I imagined what they sounded like if they dared to talk.

"What do you think you're doing?" I could practically hear a passing Ledian say. "Don't you know that's unnatural?"

"Unnatural?" I imagined myself saying. "Yeah, I know a thing or two about being unnatural. What's it to you?"

There were maybe three or four instances where that could have occurred. I was so bothered by the possibility that I almost wished it would have. Maybe then my annoyance could have been justified.

And yet, nothing of the sort happened. If the passing pokemon didn't ignore us—most of them did—they gave us a friendly, unobtrusive smile instead.

I watched one pokemon as they passed me in particular—a Stantler with absurdly gangly horns and deep purple bags under their eyes. They glanced at me for a split second, smiled just a little, then continued on their way. Their gait told me that they had places to be, but no desire to be there.

Nothing more, nothing less. I felt like a jackass for thinking that, of all pokemon, that Stantler would give Fenn and I a hard time. I couldn't do worse to them than what they were doing to themselves.

Regardless, we made it about halfway down the hall, right near the courtyard…and nothing had happened.

"Almost there…just keep going," I muttered into Fenn's ear.

He jolted, puny puffs of black smoke exiting his vents like a sneeze. His grip on my paw tightened. His snout was still angled towards the ground. "W-we shouldn't have done this…"

I could barely hear him over the sounds of chattering guild pokemon. Really, it was the tenseness in his neck that tipped me off—the rigidness of his back combined with the sharpness of his whisper. It almost sounded like a threat when he spoke, better fit for a cornered animal.

I was ashamed to admit that it made my whiskers twitch—another addition to my repertoire of slights against this day in particular. At that moment, I wanted to say "let's just go back." Because who cares? Why did we need to be open about this?

Well, that was the thing. Ever since yesterday I kept getting this nagging voice in the back of my head. A shrill, discordant figure that blared obscenities through the back of my eyes, reminding me over and over again:

'Wrong choice, buddy. You fucked up. Now you're screwed.'

And it tended to slide out when I was contemplating any action that involved turning around. Like right then, when a particularly nasty look on this one Medicham's face entered my vision. I just had to wonder, why not?

Because I'm Oswald, I thought. Which was the end of that thought process entirely. The discordant voice screeched and scuttled back to its damp cave like the roach it was. It would be back. I just had to be ready.

I took a deep breath and gave Fenn a reassuring smile. "It's fine, Fenn. No one cares."

Not reassuring enough, though, as Fenn's ears only drooped lower. His eyes scanned the passersby around him, lingering for moments too long. Most of the pokemon weren't even paying us any mind.

He said with a nervous titter to his voice, "I-I can't believe it. All of this…I-I wanted this…" That was when he started rubbing his arm. "It's…i-it's not what I imagined."

Even though he really wasn't talking to me, I responded: "You've been imagining for too long."

He looked at me for elaboration.

But instead of giving him that, I gingerly pulled his arm away, turned him about, and took both of his paws into mine. I plainly read the surprise through his suddenly raised ears.

I said, "You don't have to imagine anymore."

"B-b-but…it's not the same," Fenn fretted.

"Were you expecting it to be?"

The Quilava glanced away timidly. He didn't even shake his head.

"Is it really such a bad thing?" I asked, even if I felt like a dick afterwards. What a hypocrite I was, acting as though the imagination was just some silly thing. That voice was nagging at me again, telling me all about how my insistence on this was just going to make Fenn hate me, so I was in no place to talk.

"I don't know…" Fenn uttered. "A-a part of me wanted it to get easier."

"You still want that, right?" Because hell, so did I.

To my confusion, Fenn shook his head this time. "N-no…no, that's not right."

"What do you mean?"

Fenn slipped one of his paws from my grip and lifted it to rub his face. From his vents down to his chin in a slow slide. By the time it fell to his chest and remained there, Fenn sighed softly. He opened his eyes and smiled warmly at me.

"I-if…if it was easy," he said, "I-I wouldn't have you."

I just about kissed him right then and there, but the occasional pair of eyes shot our direction reminded me to keep it subtle. My shoulders fell, as a tension that had previously snuck in ran off. My whiskers rose joyfully.

"I love you, too, Fenn." I took his paw in mine and continued our journey. "Come on. Let's go get something to eat."

It would have been really nice if we could have ended it on that note. But clearly, the universe had other ideas in mind.

We didn't make it two steps before we heard shouts coming from the lobby just around the corner. A stillness entered the hallway, most around us collectively deciding to turn their gaze. Really, it was nothing new. These things happen sometimes—it was a big castle. We might have hesitated further, and maybe even ignored it.

But the second Fenn and I shared a glance, I knew. We recognized one of the voices.

The two of us rushed past the growing crowd of onlookers to the foyer, where an altercation was in the midst of brewing.

"How about, you take those rules of yours, crumple 'em up in a ball, and shove 'em up your-"

I flinched. There was only one mon I knew that had a voice that scratchy and vocabulary more vulgar than mine.

It was Finch, struggling from behind a bodyblock of two Gengar. The Krokorok didn't look or sound happy, based on how frequently he was snapping his jaws and pointing a digit in accusation.

And he just kept going.

"Where's that slimy dipshit Aster anyway, huh? I got some words for him if he thinks this is fair!"

Fenn uttered a quiet "oh no…" next to me.

As much as I wanted to question how Finch even knew about Aster to begin with, the guards weren't giving me—and subsequently him—much time to think about it. They shifted their bulky, wispy bodies every time Finch so much as tried to move an inch. His arms couldn't even poke through the gaps between.

"We were told not to let you in, vagrant," one of the Gengar, a particularly greasy sounding one, said. "Explicit orders from Anemone herself."

"Yeah, no shit!" Finch hissed. "How about you let me go talk to her so we can sort this out!"

Seeing Finch so furious, and noticing the ways his teeth audibly clacked together, his tail raising threateningly, made me feel all kinds of queasy. Knowing Anemone specifically didn't want him here told me that he was never supposed to be here in the first place. One slip up, that was all it took. Just a couple days with him here, and a few with him gone, led to this.

The other Gengar, the shadows dripping from his form like ooze, cackled menacingly. "Ain't gonna happen, bub. Hit the road, or we'll make ya hit it."

Finch growled low in his throat. Just then I noticed how backed into a corner he was, what with the front doors being directly behind him. They had him locked down before he even reached the reception desk.

Were they waiting for him?

"O-Oswald!" Fenn spoke up, his flame vents sparking in preparation to ignite. "We have to do something!"

I knew I should have, but…the nagging voice came back. It had a different effect this time. Less of a discordant screech and more of a sneering hiss.

'Naaaaah,' it said. 'You don't need him. What did he ever do for you anyway? Cuz from what I remember, he caused you lots of trouble.'

I tightened my fists at my sides. Against my better judgment, yeah, all of the frustration Finch caused me when we first met clawed its way to the front of my mind. There was a sick part of me that found some satisfaction in seeing him lose his cool. Who did he think he was thrusting himself into my business like he had any right to do that? This was always going to happen.

Besides, Fenn and I reconciled. What did I need Finch for?

I wasn't quite sure when it happened, but Finch and I met eyes as he struggled. He slowed, a plan forming on his snout.

"Ozzy!" he called out. "Over here!"

Not only was I being singled out now, the pokemon surrounding the hubbub began to shift their gaze toward me expectantly. I heard their hushed, gossiping voices, eliciting my shoulders to rise. Everyone wanted to see how I would react. The cackling in the back of my mind was growing louder and louder…but you know what else was bubbling up at the back of my mind?

I'm Oswald. I'm past that now. I'm starting over.

I stepped forward, Fenn not far behind. His flames were billowing like an active fireplace. "Hey!" I snapped, my fists tightening enough to dig into my palms. "Leave him alone!"

At first, the ghosts turned to me with a look that told me they were about to blow up in anger. They were the guards, this was their job, after all. But then they saw the Dewott who yelled at them and I swear their gray faces paled.

"This doesn't concern you, Dewott," the greasy Gengar growled. What caught me off guard was that he didn't seem all that confident in what he was saying anymore. His sharp fingers twiddled against his stomach.

I crossed my arms and challenged him with a look. "Doesn't concern me? That's my teammate, asshole. Anemone not convey that to you?"

"He's telling the truth!" Finch shouted. "Look!" The Krokorok held up his arm to show the dark purple scarf wrapped around his bicep. He slapped it a few times for good measure. I pulled at my own scarf to accentuate the point he was making.

Fenn's fire had intensified to the point where I could feel the heat radiating off of him a few steps away. "H-he's with us!" he asserted.

Both Gengar were quickly losing their composure. The one with his ooze dripping from his body visibly balked, making him sweat like he was melting.

Honestly, that was more satisfying than seeing Finch stumble. If it meant stepping on the queen's toes…

"N-now you listen here," the Gengar stammered, "we have direct orders-"

But Finch didn't even care about them at this point. He only had eyes for me. "Ozzy!" he said, his tail thumping loudly behind him. "I need to talk to you! Get over here!"

I was moving at autopilot at this point. I wasn't even scared at the repercussions of my actions because I didn't even think about it. My head was only filled with the prospect of somebody in this equation losing the altercation. Not once did I think it could possibly be me.

Not until a Dusknoir rose from the ground, blocking my path and bringing me to a halt.

"And where do you think you're going?" Oleander said. The tone of his voice was as slimy as ever, and that made the fur on the back of my neck stand on end.

Oh come on…

I glared up at him. "I'm not leaving, Oleander. Can I not talk to people now?"

His wide form floated down, halfway through the floor to better bore his eye into me. He talked low, direct. Every word had a purpose accentuated by sharp peaks.

"He seeks to give you unscrupulous ideas," he stated. "Surely you must know that this vagrant only accounts for himself."

Fenn sidled up next to me, his fur acting as a warm cushion to fall back on. While he didn't say anything, the paw he placed on the small of my back told me everything: I'm here for whatever you decide to do.

With confidence, I said, "And what if I don't know? What if I talk to him anyway?"

Oleander's singular eye narrowed. "That will not be happening."

I blinked. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, I somewhat expected Anemone and her cronies to have a problem with Finch, but not to the degree that I couldn't even talk to him. This was ridiculous.

"Fuck. Off. This was never your job, Oleander. You know that!"

"It is now," he retorted, floating back up to his full height, his hands behind his back. "Lady Anemone stated it to be so with utmost clarity."

Anemone, huh? I wondered internally. Wait a second…that's not-

I countered by asking him, "Is this what Calluna would want?"

Oleander froze. Got him.

"Knowing her, she wouldn't want to inconvenience me," I continued. "Does she even know about this?"

The Dusknoir hesitated, then said, "...That is none of your concern."

I spoke quickly, as though I'd lose my chance if I didn't. I held up my paws. "Just give me five minutes. That's it. Five minutes then you can do whatever you want."

Nothing about Oleander's demeanor changed, but I could see the way his ghostly form seemed to waver more than usual. His response came slow and deliberate. "...Enough. I see no reason to grant you that luxury."

Except for the fact that you might lose your job?

I wanted to tear my fur out one clump at a time. God, I couldn't believe that I put up with this for so long. Every single time I so much as expressed an interest in stepping outside the line I'd get pushed right back in. It was maddening!

While I wracked my brain for another counter argument, Fenn stepped forward. I had to shirk my gaze away so the brightness wouldn't hurt my eyes. Flecks of fire spilled out of his active flame vents, sizzling as they hit the floor. He was like a living blowtorch, and sounded like one, too. Either that was his fire or his throat growling—it didn't really matter. All three ghosts backpedaled at the sight of him.

"H-he said, five minutes," Fenn uttered resolutely.

Oleander said, "Quilava Fenrir, I regret to inform you that attacking other pokemon in the castle grounds is worthy of a suspension."

But that didn't phase Fenn. Which made my stomach drop, and I wasn't even the one being threatened. He quietly cleared his throat. I didn't hear a lick of a stutter when he spoke.

"You sound scared."

There was a hint of genuine trepidation behind the subtle backwards movement of the Dusknoir. The tremble of his antenna. And the subsequent stammer in his breathing.

There was a long, considerate pause. Then Oleander finally relented: "...Five minutes. No more, no less. I will be timing you."

It took me a moment to recover, what with my boyfriend sounding like a completely different person all of a sudden. I'd have to poke him about that later.

Anyway, I blinked and said, "Sure, whatever. Please go away."

Thankfully, he and the other ghosts phased through the floor to their word. Finch was left alone and out in the open, his arms still raised in defiance. He looked at me in wordless shock.

I hurriedly made for the Krokorok, but not before turning to Fenn as I passed him. "Nice job," I said, the words tumbling out of my mouth.

"Y-yeah, y-you too," he stuttered. He followed close behind me, and his flames slipped back into his head along with his confidence. The tips of his ears burned a bright, fiery red.

After that, Finch had a smirk on his snout by the time we reached him, his arms crossed. He chuckled, and now that I was closer I noticed the dully colored backpack he had on. When did he get that?

"I didn't know you had that much influence, Ozzy," he said.

I frowned. "You're pretty smug for someone who nearly got arrested."

The Krokorok looked off at something to the side. His tail swayed idly behind him, but his snout was snapped shut, not a hint of teeth glinting through. Unlike Fenn with his big, pointy ears Finch was always harder to read. I couldn't tell if he was happy to see me or annoyed that I had to step in. Even the tone of his voice was smooth.

"Yeah, well, been a long few days," Finch grumbled. "I bet they just didn't want me tracking any dirt in." He then nodded at Fenn next to me. "Nice to see you, hot stuff."

"H-hi…" Fenn muttered.

My expression didn't change. Though hearing Finch call Fenn that name made my cheeks burn more than I expected. "We don't have much time, Finch," I told him. "They're gonna come back. Do you have a plan?"

Finch chuckled at that, too. But this time it was sardonic, like he had a whole weekend's worth of irony piled up that was only just then released. He said, "I do. But look, Ozzy, I want answers as much as you do-"
"This doesn't sound like a plan." I was starting to itch. A whole minute had to have already passed.

Finch held up his claws defensively. "I'm working on it. I want answers, too. About a lot of things. But neither of us are going to get anywhere without the other's help."

"What are you getting at?"

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "There's a mine down south with information both of us need. I got us a ride."

"A mine?" I wondered.

He nodded. "Remember Turaco? This is where it leads."

"Turaco- oh." My eyes went wide. "That guy."
"Yeah. That guy. The Heliolisk with the stupid hat." Finch straightened his posture, looking down at me expectantly. "You want information? This is your best bet."

My best bet, huh…

It seemed so long ago when we visited that port town and I pestered that drug dealer for information. I could barely even remember what he told me; my attention was almost immediately split right afterwards. By what, I wouldn't know how to answer. Everything but that.

If what Finch was telling me was true, not that I had the time to consider the alternative, that lead I had was still tenable. I could finally learn about why I was here.

But circumstances had only changed since then.

I grimaced, scratching at a scalchop on my hip. "Small problem: I'm not allowed to leave," I said.

Finch's response was to point over his shoulder again. Gravel entered his voice, straight to the point. "The door's right here."

"Yeah, I see that," I said pointedly. "How far would we get?"

Fenn held up his paw, albeit shyly, to point out, "Th-that Dusknoir is looking after him. We…w-we had to plead with Calluna just to leave for an hour yesterday."

Finch let out a combination of a sigh and a growl—a deeply frustrated noise. "Great. That just makes it harder to drag you out of here."

I thought that Finch wasn't quite understanding what I was getting at, even if I, myself, wanted what he wanted, too. To be fair, though, I didn't think I knew what I wanted either.

Believe it or not, there was a lingering hope I clung to that some amount of good behavior would lessen the inevitable consequences of going behind Anemone's back. Maybe if I made the conscious decision not to do this, her psychic grip would only feel like a couple of sharp pins in my neck, instead of a hundred.

Just…the thought of her loud, booming commands ripping through my eardrums made me want to vomit. I knew I resigned myself to let it all go, but…

And I mean, do I really need this lead anymore? I thought. I'm Oswald. Does Oswald need to know for certain what his role in the world is? Is it really that important?

…How many minutes had passed? Shit. My fur was getting damp with sweat.

I shrugged clumsily. "I…don't know what to do," I admitted. "They're not going to let me…"

A whisper clipping at my ears: 'Pathetic. Just pathetic.'

Finch's dark eyes grew ever so slightly darker in the shadows. His claws suddenly had sharper points, or so it seemed. He snarled, "Don't you back down now, Ozzy. Not. Now."

I opened my mouth to speak, only to be shut up by Fenn leaning in and gripping my arm. I snapped my gaze towards him, catching sight of red, pleading eyes. Always pleading.

"O-Oswald," he said, "this is important to you…right? L-look, I don't know what you're thinking, but…I-I-I'll go with you. Anywhere. N-no matter what."

My throat locked up. "Fenn…" I breathed.

Finch, also, rested a claw on my shoulder. In complete contrast to before, he showed a soft selection of yellowed teeth. "Same for me," he grinned. "We'll figure it out."

It was brief, but I witnessed his eyes flashing between me, Fenn, then back to me again. After which he winked.

My cheeks grew hot.

I let out a sigh. You know, this wasn't even about me anymore, was it? After all, who cared in the end if it meant I did the opposite of what the queen wanted?

Although, there was one thing.

My eyes shot back to Fenn in a frantic rush. "...Wait, what about Cosmo?" I said, gripping the straps of my shoulder bag. "Isn't he back in the room?"

Flame vents bursting to life in an instant, Fenn seemed to have come to the same sudden realization. "O-oh!" he blurted out. "You're right! W-we can't just…leave him here. What if…"

"God…we can't…!" I uttered under my breath. My face fell.

We were running out of time. I'd have to make a choice after all. An actual choice.

What have I been doing this whole time? Cosmo…poor little guy—I had barely thought about him. So much was on my mind and I just jumped into my own little world and forgot about him and-

Wait.

I opened the flap of my bag.

Inside of the bag was the sleeping face of a certain Solosis, tiny snores causing the surface of his bubble to gently vibrate. I couldn't even bring myself to frown or groan. Wordlessly, I showed the contents of the bag to Fenn.

He looked inside—face still full of anguish—and, seeing Cosmo, new life was thrust into his previously drooping ears. But his fire still fumed in what I could only describe as a disappointed inferno.

"...Oh," was all he had to say.

I closed the bag. "I guess that solves that problem?" I smiled sheepishly. We really had no other choice but to take him with us.

Fenn rubbed his arm uncomfortably.

"So, that means you're coming with?" Finch asked hopefully, gripping the straps of his backpack.

I sighed. "Yeah…yeah, I think so."

A grin spread onto Finch's snout, but it didn't last long. Not after a familiar intonation rang the conclusive bell of our conversation.

"Time is up," Oleander boomed with an obnoxious reminder in a deep cadence.

I turned on him, momentarily taking note of the thoroughly invested crowd around us. I hadn't even noticed that they were still there, let alone that they had condensed and gotten closer. Still, I ignored them. Gossip was the least of my problems now.

"What are you going to do, Oleander?" I asked with a scowl.

The Dusknoir pointed behind me, and as he did those two Gengar phased up through the floor behind him. They were still, but not relaxed in the slightest. No doubt primed like springs to jump at any moment.

"That vagrant requires questioning," Oleander said. "If deemed fit, you may converse with him more another time."

Finch scoffed. "Behind bars? Fat chance."

Oleander leaned forward—towering over us. He didn't change much besides that, but his frame was all the more intimidating that way.

I fought to keep from stepping back. "This is unfair," I seethed.

"Such is the way of things."

I hate the way he said that. All wistful and shit. Bleh.

Flames raging, Fenn stepped in front of me, blocking me with one of his arms. "L-leave us alone!" he snarled. A surprisingly frightening sound coming from a meek voice like his.

To that, Oleander leaned back, making himself taller. He looked down at us—over us. I swore I could see a hint of satisfaction in his eye. "I will give you one chance," he warned. "Step. Away."

As if on cue, two more Gengar floated up through the floor behind him. They fanned out, blocking every route outside of the one leading to the entry doors of the foyer.

I winced. Our chances were getting worse by the second. And I was starting to have doubts.

I even took a step back.

"Fucking asshole…" Finch growled in my ear. I almost thought he was talking about me. I wished he was, because he was right. Didn't I put myself in this position? Didn't I put us in this position?

Clearly, I did something wrong somewhere. Someone who did everything right would have a plan to get out of this. I didn't have anything. I just gripped my scalchop…and hoped I could get a good hit in if they got close. The thought of having to resort to a fight made my knees wobble, though. Like I said, I had my doubts.

'Give up…GIVE UP!'

I was just about to. But then something caught my eye.

My gaze must have wandered while I considered my mortality. I saw the pokemon watching me, studying me, exploiting my fear. Some looked about as horrified as I was, their worried whispers like crackling bubbles in my ears. While others, with their eyes sharper than fangs, pined for a show. A real show. With violence and bloodshed.

They weren't who I was interested in. I noticed one of them in particular; it was hard not to. His navy blue cloak and prissy white ribbons betrayed his desire to remain hidden. He couldn't traverse the crowd and avoid my detection, oh no.

It all clicked into place. I conjured up a thought before I could stop the adrenaline from congealing in my knees.

"...Fine, you win. I'll let you-" Then I pointed a finger at the crowd, quickly shouting out, "HOLY SHIT, IS THAT NEO, THE FENCER?"

Oleander's eye went wide immediately. He swiftly forgot what he was doing and swung his entire body about. "What? Where?"

It all became chaos from there. Voices split the cacophony.

"Neo, the Fencer?"
"No way!"

"Where? Where? There's too many pokemon!"

"I want his autograph!"

Even one of the Gengar split off to go fanboy the cowering, covered Lucario.

Meanwhile: "No, NO!" Neo bellowed. "Leave me be! I just want breakfast!"

It made me smirk, despite everything. By my estimate, we had a few precious seconds. Oleander was downright enamored, at least.

"Time to go!" I blurted out. "Come on!"

Fenn and Finch were quick to trail behind me, the latter howling with laughter as we dashed for the door. "Nice going, Ozzy!"

Unfortunately, that also got Oleander's attention. He stormed after us a moment sooner than I would have liked.

"Stop right there!" he shouted gruffly, to an uncharacteristic degree. "You are not to leave!"

A chill ran down my spine. We made it to the door, but it was big and heavy. If we wanted to get out fast, all three of us would have to squeeze through. Hard to manage in an orderly fashion when there was a Dusknoir right on our tails.

"Shit…!" I uttered. The door was moving too slow, even with both Finch and I pushing for our damn lives. We were going to get caught.

Was this it? All of that for nothing?

Apparently, no. Fenn wasn't pushing. Instead, he spun on the ghost, reeled back, and prepared to exhale. Except, he didn't right away. He caught himself at the last moment, clasping his mouth shut. Then, with embers spewing from his nostrils—and I swore I heard it—he burped out a cloud of black smoke into Oleander's face.

"Gah!" Oleander screeched.

Fenn coughed, wisps of fire dancing like erupting lava from his forehead. "G-go!" he stammered.

With one more collective push, the three of us squeezed out onto the front lawn of the castle. We toppled over each other, landing in nothing but a hapless heap. In a daze, I glanced forward to freedom. It was black, furry, and bulky.

Oh.

I forgot about Crocus.

"Hey!" the large Pangoro snapped, glaring at the pile of mons at his feet. "What the-"

Finch gave him no time to think and yelled, "Run!"

My brain could barely shoot commands to my legs before Fenn had me upright and running, dashing around and under Crocus' legs. I stumbled, lagging behind if only by a hair. Which was just enough for Crocus to lunge and grip my calf on the way out.

"STOP!" The Pangoro's shout rang in my ears.

I screamed. "AH!" The two of us collapsed into the dirt as a daisy chain of flailing limbs, held together by the vice grip he had on me. It felt like my whole leg was caving in on itself from the pressure.

"NO- AGH!"

"Hold still!"

I panicked. My body started to shake uncontrollably.

Shitshitshitshitshitshit!

Fennpleasehe'sgonnakillmegoddon'tlethimpleasepleasepleasenonononoNO!

"NO!"

I shouted so loud that I thought my vocal cords burst. In a split second, my paw shot to my hip and slid across the grooves of my scalchop. My arm flowed like water in an arc, swinging up over my shoulder then back down with force.

My scalchop glittered beautifully in my paw. A bright white blade that wasn't there prior jutted from its tip. It came down like a wave-

-and cut Crocus' hand clean off.

Ba-thump.

His scream was guttural.

Mine was feral.

Blood splattered into the dirt.

Ba-thump.

I slid from the hand's limp grip.

Ba-thump.

Fenn had me up and running again.

Ba-thump.

The world was rushing by.

Ba-thump.

We ran.

Ba-thump.

Ba-thump.

Ba-thump.