“How far do you think it is until we reach the halfway house again?” Cynthia asked, glancing towards Johanna.
Johanna shrugged.
“Probably an hour, maybe two. Not really sure. I can never quite remember.” She waved vaguely toward a nearby rocky hill, a steep, jagged rise that looked impossible to climb from where they stood. “Like, I’m pretty sure it’s literally right behind that thing, but there’s no good path around it, so every time I’m here, I end up feeling like I’m walking in circles.”
Cynthia raised an eyebrow. “Walking in circles?”
Johanna shrugged, completely unbothered. “Well, not literally. It just feels like it, y’know? You have to backtrack and weave around stuff.”
Beside Myst, Rei huffed, as to say she could easily scale the hill, and Johanna gave her a small grin before shaking her head and continuing. “Still, it’s better than the alternative. On my first journey, I had a friend who insisted he knew a shortcut. We ended up spending forever trying to backtrack to the actual route. Basically, like always, if you stick to the marked trail, you won’t get lost.”
Cynthia sighed and glanced again at the cliff Johanna had pointed to. Honestly, when Johanna had first said the route inside of Coronet was a mess, Cynthia had assumed it was just a bit of dramatic flair. After all, this was the major route connecting east and west Sinnoh. Surely it had to be at least somewhat well-designed.
She now, unfortunately, realized just how naive that assumption had been.
If they’d been able to walk in a straight line, the entire trek would probably be over by now. Mount Coronet was massive, but it wasn’t that massive. The problem was the terrain. With no way to cross the wide underground lakes covering the southern part of the cavern, and no safe path up the steep interior cliffs, they were stuck zigzagging through what felt like ancient trails, routes that had probably been carved back when Sinnoh was still called Hisui.
“Marked trail… wait, is that what the rocks are?” Myst suddenly asked, pointing at a red-painted stone about ten meters ahead.
Cynthia turned.
What did he mean, obviously the—
She froze.
Stared.
And then, with an act of will that could only be described as legendary, she stopped herself from smacking a hand against her forehead.
Days.
They’d spent the past few days steadily working through everything Myst likely didn’t know, cultural expectations, taboos, everyday knowledge a trainer needed, even the finer points of Gym regulations. Sure, she figured a few things had probably slipped through the cracks, but considering how much both she and Johanna had wracked their brains, she felt like they’d at least covered the basics.
Apparently not.
Cynthia let out a quiet groan, her face twisting in frustration.
Because somehow, someway, they’d managed to skip one of the most important things a person needed to know when traveling through Sinnoh. You know, how to actually follow a route. Sure, on paved roads or neatly carved mountain passes, it didn’t matter all that much. But in places like Coronet? Getting lost wasn’t just inconvenient, it could mean being stranded for hours before you figured out how to backtrack.
Still, maybe more important was the question that came with it. If they’d forgotten something as basic as this…
What other, completely fundamental and basic thing, had they forgotten to mention?
Johanna paused beside her, and out of the corner of her eye, Cynthia saw her friend’s face twist into a perfect mirror of her own—a wide-eyed, slack-jawed how-did-we-miss-this expression.
Cynthia exhaled through her nose, then forced herself to speak.
“Yeah. That painted red stone is showing you where to go. Almost every route has something like it. If there’s no man-made trail, there’s usually some kind of marker, painted rocks, carved symbols, even rope lines sometimes, to keep you on track. Still, red paint is supposed to be the standard, so for most routes you just check for that.”
Myst raised an eyebrow. “Okay, good to know. Just one question.”
He looked between the two of them.
“…Why do you both look like you want to smash your heads into the nearest hard object?”
Johanna dragged her hand down her face with a groan. “Because it’s one of those things you have to know before starting a journey. It gets drilled into you before you even leave home, right alongside stuff like how to read a map and how to backtrack. And considering we’ve been trying to cover all the important stuff, routes, culture, survival basics, we definitely should’ve mentioned it, but…”
She trailed off with a helpless shrug.
Myst glanced between the two of them, then let out a quiet sigh. “It’s not a big deal. I did say figuring out what I don’t know, and trying to fill in that hole was going to be harder than expected, remember?”
Cynthia glanced at Johanna. Her friend’s expression still perfectly mirrored her own, and Myst seemed to catch it.
“Seriously,” he said, “how about we just… put a pin in it for now? Instead of trying to cover everything at once, just bring things up as they come up. That way, I’ll actually remember them.”
Cynthia pressed her lips together, stopping herself from instinctively protesting. After all, the entire reason they’d started talking everything through was because that approach hadn’t really been working.
But, well, he wasn’t wrong, either.
Aside from the first day, and maybe part of the second, when they’d mostly walked in silence, the rest of the journey had turned into a nonstop game of twenty questions, with both her and Johanna trying to figure out what Myst didn’t know, and how to fill in the gaps. It was exhausting, and clearly, they were still missing things.
Important things even.
Cynthia slowly let a bitter smile grow over her face.
And, maybe more importantly, going over cultural basics and practical know-how just wasn’t fun. If it had been history, that would’ve been another story entirely. But Johanna, much as Cynthia hated to admit it, had made a fair point: if even she didn’t know some piece of history, Myst probably didn’t need it either.
Which left them with the truly thrilling lessons of… well, reminding Myst to take off his shoes before stepping into someone’s house.
Myst clapped his hands once. “Honestly, there is no need to overthink it. A lot of the stuff we’ve gone over has been super helpful. Teaching me how to read a map, pointing out that the food I’ve been buying for my Pokémon is cheaper because it’s subsidized, those are definitely things I should know. And I’m grateful, really.” He glancing between them. “But don’t take this the wrong way, when I first brought up figuring out what I didn’t know, I was mostly thinking Pokémon stuff, you know?”
Beside him, Rei groaned at the topic, while Johanna’s face twisted into something utterly incredulous. She stared at him, then turned to Cynthia. “Is he serious right now?”
Cynthia took in Johanna’s expression, glanced at Rei, and let a slow smile curl across her face.
For a moment, she just took in Johanna’s expression, the pure bewilderment, the confusion.
Because this?
The casual way Myst somehow thought he knew less than he did? The way he kept underestimating himself, thinking he was in some way being objective?
Yeah. This was exactly how she felt every time he brought it up. Honestly, without bragging, she was probably one of the most knowledgeable people her age when it came to Pokémon, and he had still taught her more than she’d taught him. Hell, lately that felt even more true, since half the time she wasn’t trying to figure out what he didn’t know, she was busy trying to pin down what he actually did.
Not that he didn’t have gaps, but, like, everyone did.
As Myst stared at the two of them, Cynthia let her smile widen until it was probably just a bit too happy and said, “Probably,” popping the P for effect.
He sighed. “Okay, look. I know a lot of stuff, but it’s all theoretical, right? How to care for Pokémon, how to train them, how to feed them?” He motioned toward Cynthia. “Before she started helping me, I had no idea what I was doing. I mean, I did say a couple days ago that most of the Pokémon stuff I struggle with is the kind you can only learn through experience, but even so, some of it has to be things you two could teach me. After all, honestly?” He shrugged. “Even now, I’m pretty sure I’m just winging it.”
Rei glanced up at her trainer, then gave a small shake of her head, her expression seemingly deeply tired.
At the same moment, Johanna blinked, once at him, then back to Cynthia. Slowly, her expression shifted: eyes widening, mouth parting in sudden realization. She stared at Cynthia like something monumental had just clicked into place.
“Holy shit,” she whispered. “I get it. This is your fault.”
Cynthia tilted her head. “What?”
Johanna slammed a fist into her palm, eyes lighting up like she’d just solved a conspiracy theory. “You broke him.”
Cynthia stared at Johanna, mouth opening to protest, but before she could get a word out, Johanna grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around, maneuvering her like a mannequin until she was standing front and center.
Then Johanna stepped back dramatically, one hand gesturing toward her like she was unveiling a masterpiece. “What is this?”
Myst furrowed his brows. “Cynthia?”
When Johanna just sighed at that answer, Rei tried lazily. “Buneary?”
Not Cynthia?
Johanna rolled her eyes. “Obviously it’s Cynthia. No, I mean—what is Cynthia?”
Cynthia felt the confusion hit her just as hard, but before she could start to figure out what she meant Myst’s face twisted slightly. For a second he was caught between confusion and suspicion, like he was trying to figure out if this was a trap. But then, after a long pause, he tilted his head, ponytail sliding over his shoulder as he squinted at her.
“…Pretty?”
For a second nobody said anything.
Then Cynthia felt her face explode into red.
Johanna, to her credit, didn’t even smirk. She shook her head, voice suddenly turning serious. “No. Cynthia is Pokémon trainer, right?”
Myst nodded slowly. “I mean… yes?”
Johanna crossed her arms. “Bzzt. Wrong.”
Myst blinked. “…What?”
“Myst,” she started, before her tone sharpened, “Cynthia isn’t the average Pokémon trainer. Not in any way, shape, or form. She’s the granddaughter of a professor. The heir to a clan. Hell, even compared to other clan kids, she’s probably still considered a genius. She might honestly be the most talented trainer I have ever met, and you still know things she doesn’t.”
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Cynthia felt the flush rising again, the warmth that had already reached her cheeks now creeping down her neck and chest. At this point, she was pretty sure her bones were blushing.
Myst frowned. “And as I said, that’s not the point. Of course I’ve realized my knowledge is above average, but that’s only when it comes to theory. When it comes to the small stuff? People here grow up with Pokémon. They’ve lived alongside them since they could crawl. Their instincts, their habits, everything just revolves around that. There are probably a thousand little things they just know, things that seem obvious to you, but I’ve never even thought about.”
This time Rei froze, before turning to her trainer, looking at him like he was actually stupid. Myst glanced down at her with a raised eyebrow, but before he could say anything Johanna talked first.
“They don’t.”
Myst looked back up, just to meet Johanna’s slight smile. Then he narrowed his eyes. “They don’t what?”
“They don’t know all that ‘small stuff’ you’re imagining,” Johanna replied as a matter-of-fact. “Most trainers? They are just fumbling their way through it. Sure, they grow up around Pokémon, but that usually just means their parents had one or two at home. If they were lucky, they got their own early. But actual training?”
She snorted.
“You’re human, right? Do you know the optimal way to train your own body? All the little tips and tricks to get the most out of it, the stuff you should avoid, the routines that work long-term?” She raised an eyebrow. “Probably not. Because most people don’t. And it’s the same with Pokémon. People are familiar with them, but familiarity isn’t expertise. You think everybody is like our girl here, getting drip-fed information about training from every angle before she could talk? Reading books about Pokémon before she could even walk? Hell, do you think most people have access to those books?”
Johanna shook her head. “Your knowledge about everything—abilities, evolutions, when certain moves show up, even that weirdly perfect recall for every Pokémon you come across—that’s miles beyond what most people know. Sure, maybe Cynthia’s better when it comes to strictly training, but honestly? She’s probably better than me too in that department.”
She looked directly at Myst, her voice steady. “You’re not average, Myst. Hell, you’re not even just above average. I’ve watched you battle Byron. I’ve watched you train your Pokémon. And I can tell you right now, you’re a certified genius.”
For a second, no one said anything and as Cynthia finally managed to get her blush under control, Myst seemed to have the opposite problem. A slow, creeping redness spread across his face as Johanna’s words sank in.
Johanna just shook her head, letting go of Cynthia as she took a step back.
“Just think about that, okay? I’m not saying you’re perfect, or that you should stop trying to learn better training methods. And I’m definitely not saying you shouldn’t ask questions about Pokémon. But you do need to have an accurate sense of your own abilities. The reason I and Cynthia kept quizzing you on the cultural stuff is because that’s where you’re really lacking, not in your Pokémon knowledge. So don’t push yourself just because you think you’re lagging behind, because I can promise you—you’re not.”
Myst didn’t answer right away. He just looked down, hands fidgeting slightly at his sides, fingers curling and uncurling like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.
Then he lifted his head again, only to end up staring back at Johanna. For a second, neither of them said anything. Johanna looked finished, and Myst looked like he didn’t even know where to begin.
As the moment stretched, Cynthia felt an odd sensation scratching at her throat, the weight of the silence, the awkwardness clawing its way into the group and making itself at home.
Without really thinking it through, she opened her mouth to say something… only to realize she had absolutely no idea what.
Her mind scrambled, flipping through options with increasing urgency.
Should she agree with Johanna? Try to reassure him? Crack a joke?
None of them felt right.
So instead, her mouth made an executive decision and moved on its own.
“What’s the weirdest evolution you know?” she blurted out.
Myst blinked, clearly caught off guard, but he still answered, seemingly almost automatically. “I mean… I guess Inkay? You have to hold it upside down in battle for it to evolve.”
There was a pause. A beat of stunned quiet.
Then Johanna snorted, a low laugh bubbling out of her. “Wait, what? You evolve it by holding it upside down? In battle? Seriously?”
Myst shrugged, trying for casual. “Or maybe Milcery. It has, like, seventy different forms after it evolves. Depends on the time of day, what it just ate, how fast it spins during evolution…”
This time Cynthia blinked.
What.
Myst, apparently noticing her look of disbelief, and perhaps sensing the return of normalcy, flashed her a grin.
“Vanilla Cream Alcremie. Mint Cream Alcremie. Caramel Swirl Alcremie…”
Cynthia narrowed her eyes. “Okay, you’re making those up.”
“I’m really not.”
Beside him, Rei’s eyes widened. She slowly turned to Myst, ears perked and twitching in sharp, focused interest.
For a second, everybody just stared at him.
Of course, judging by the slight drool now trailing from the corner of Rei’s mouth, it was clear the staring was happening for very different reasons.
Cynthia sighed. “She’s picturing dessert, isn’t she.”
Johanna snorted. “Pretty sure she stopped listening at caramel swirl.”
Theatrically, Myst turned toward Rei, his black ponytail whipping around as he put on a look of mock worry.
Then Johanna tilted her head, suddenly narrowing her eyes at Myst. “Actually, since you apparently know everything about evolutions, and we’re on the subject, I’ve got an argument I want to settle.”
Myst tilted his head. “Okay… what?”
Johanna started to speak, then hesitated and glanced toward Cynthia. “Honestly, I guess I could have asked you too…”
Her eyes flicked toward her belt, where her Poké Balls rested, but even as Cynthia raised a brow, Johanna shook her head and turned back to Myst.
“Anyway, about a year ago, one of Hoenn’s top Coordinators came over to Sinnoh to compete, and we kind of ended up as rivals. I won most of our matches, but after a really close Contest battle, we went out drinking, and he started going off about how the only reason he lost was because his Roselia hadn’t evolved. He just wouldn’t shut up about how he’d been hunting for a Sun Stone for forever and still couldn’t find one, and how, if he did, he’d evolve her and just roll right over me.”
Cynthia narrowed her eyes.
Johanna rolled her eyes. “Obviously I told him it wouldn’t have changed anything, and—because I’m a nice person—I pointed out that a Sun Stone wouldn’t even help, since Roselia doesn’t evolve with one. I mean, I was literally there when Professor Rowan tested out most common stone evolutions.” She paused, then grimaced. “Okay, maybe my wording was a little blunter than that, but I was still trying to be nice, y’know? But then he goes, oh gosh, genius, if you’re so smart, how does Roselia evolve into Roserade? And I couldn’t lose, right? So I panicked and blurted out ‘Dawn Stone.’”
She winced. “But apparently he’d won one in a contest ages ago, tested that, and it didn’t work, and, yeah.” She waved a hand, clearing her throat. “Either way, so we made a bet. If either of us figured out the real method, and we could confirm it, the next time we met he’d buy me a Dawn Stone, and I’d buy him a Sun Stone…” She trailed off, giving Myst a hopeful look.
Myst opened his mouth to answer—
“Roselia evolves with a Shiny Stone. It’s like a super condensed sun stone. A lot rarer, a lot more expensive.” Cynthia said, cutting in first.
She paused when both Myst and Johanna turned to her.
“What? I’m right!”
Johanna gave her a look, then mumbled something too low for her to catch.
Cynthia crossed her arms.
“What!”
…
Of all the problems Cynthia had imagined might come up when it came to the halfway house, this wasn’t one of them.
As they crested the hill, her gaze swept over the clearing where the house was supposed to be, only to land on a sea of tents. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. Scattered and clustered around the building like a temporary village.
She blinked, blankly scanned the crowd and blinked again when the scene didn’t change.
Behind her, Myst let out a low whistle.
Cynthia couldn’t help but agree.
They were more than two months into the season. Having started with the western Gyms, it made sense they’d seen so few people on the road. Most trainers who began in the west would be long past Oreburgh and Eterna by now, far ahead. Meanwhile, those starting in the east wouldn’t need to cross Coronet for another few weeks, at the very earliest.
They’d still run into people, of course, but only in passing.
Cynthia glanced sideways. Johanna was still staring down at the chaos, her brow furrowed. “What the hell?” she muttered, just loud enough for Cynthia to catch.
“I am guessing this is unusual?” Myst’s dry voice rang out.
Johanna nodded slowly. “Yes. I mean—no. I mean…” She sighed. “Okay, look. If this were two or three weeks ago, maybe. But now?” She shook her head. “This is way past peak season for crossing from west to east. I mean, something has to be up, because yeah, this isn’t normal.”
As they continued down the hill and more people began to notice them, Cynthia felt herself inch inward. Not literally, but her shoulders tightened, her pace slowed.
It wasn’t that she was afraid of crowds or anything. After all, she’d handled plenty before. But something about this got under her skin. A gathering of trainers. An inn in all but name. It was just a touch too familiar.
Myst brushed his arm lightly against hers. She glanced over, half expecting him to look completely at ease, but felt her eyes widen when she realized he actually looked somewhat tense, his eyes flickering across the crowd.
He honestly looked just as unsettled as she felt.
Still, when he caught her looking, he offered a small, rueful smile. A quiet what-can-you-do expression.
Cynthia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and shook her head. This was fine. This was normal. Not like last time. Not Kael. It couldn’t be more different.
Before she could convince herself completely though, Rei let out a yell of pure happiness. Without even glancing at her trainer the little Buneary skipped ahead, bouncing like a child approaching a candy shop, eyes wide, ears twitching, a bright grin plastered across her face.
Cynthia lifted an eyebrow. Okay then.
For most of their journey, Rei had been restless, bored out of her mind, picking fights and dragging her feet. Hell, she had even started throwing dirty looks at Myst, like he was somehow responsible for her under stimulation. But somewhere along the last stretch of trail, something had shifted. She’d perked up. Grown sharp. Jittery.
At the time, it had felt like a minor mystery.
Now?
Cynthia’s eyes followed the flow of the crowd, sweeping past tents and trainers until they landed on the far side of the clearing.
Around three marked-off fields.
Or well, not just fields.
Battlefields.
They looked hastily made, rough enclosures of stone and gravel, likely carved out by Rock-types. Jagged boulders ringed the edges, uneven and scorched in places, like they’d already seen their share of clashes. It wasn’t elegant, but it worked, and judging by the crowd surrounding them, it worked very well.
She shook her head.
Yeah. That checked out.
“So I guess I’ll get a few battles in to practice for the gym, if nothing else,” Myst muttered beside her, his eyes fixed on the nearest field, where a Machoke was currently slamming a Kricketune into the dirt with almost clinical brutality.
“Yeah,” Cynthia said, a low grin tugging at her lips as she glanced back at Rei, who was waving them over from the edge of the tent line. “Looks like you will.”
They moved past the first row of tents. A few nearby trainers turned to look at them, not hostile, just… not exactly friendly either. A handful of glances that lingered a second too long. Weighted, knowing. Like they’d seen this before.
Like they were saying, Welcome to the club.
Straining her ears, she tried to catch the conversation of the nearest trainers, but before she could make sense of anything, a voice rang out.
“Cynthia?”
The voice sounded surprised, almost disbelieving, and she froze, her impromptu spying cut short. Muscles coiled before she could think.
She turned.
And blinked.
“Volkner?”
Myst shot her a glance, but Cynthia barely noticed. She was too busy staring at one of the last people she expected to see here. Still, before she could even begin to figure out why he was here, he had wandered over, head tilted, eyes narrowed in mild disbelief.
“Huh, it’s really you? I figured you’d have passed this place ages ago, dodging this whole mess. After all, you beat Byron almost a week before I did.”
A Pikachu darted out from behind him, scaling his jacket in a practiced leap before settling on his shoulder. The second it spotted Cynthia, its ears twitched, eyes narrowing as its cheeks began to spark.
As her head snapped back into reality Cynthia gave it an awkward, apologetic smile, instinctively recalling how Queenie had rather decisively knocked it out in their last battle. Still, before she could say anything, Rei strolled up, glancing at the Pikachu, and let out a sharp, dismissive snort.
“Bunn.”
She flicked one ear in its direction, posture radiating boredom, before beginning to turn back to the battlefields. The Electric-type immediately snapped its gaze toward her, sparks crackling faintly in response, causing Rei to stop.
Then, her intent practically shouting deliberate provocation, Rei rolled her eyes skyward.
Cynthia smiled helplessly at Rei’s antics, but before the moment could devolve into an all-out turf war between a Buneary and a Pikachu, she reined it in and gave a sharp cough. Both Volkner and his Pikachu snapped their attention back to her.
“I mean, you’re right, going by my plan, I should’ve been in Hearthome weeks ago, but I got held up in Eterna for a bit,” she said, then paused, a flicker of chagrin creeping in at how underexplained that sounded. Still, she shook her head and went on. “Anyway, I ended up needing to detour through Oreburgh before I finally made it here.” She raised an eyebrow at Volkner. “Honestly, you’re the one I didn’t expect. I lost nearly three weeks, I thought you’d be in Hearthome by now.”
Volkner opened his mouth to answer.
But before he could, another voice rang out behind him.
“Dude! Where’d you disappear to? You completely missed me and Monferno absolutely crushing that Kadabra into the grou—”
The voice cut off mid-sentence as its owner skidded to a halt beside Volkner.
Cynthia blinked at the red-haired boy who’d just arrived. Tall-ish, probably around her age, wearing a sleeveless yellow tank top like he really wanted everyone to know he worked out. His black pants were already scuffed, and his Monferno hovered somewhere behind him, looking vaguely embarrassed.
And, maybe most importantly, he was staring at her.
Just… staring.
Like really staring.
Cynthia raised an eyebrow when he didn’t stop, and as if realizing his mistake, Red-Hair Boy’s entire posture shifted. The lazy slouch straightened into a practiced lean, his face rearranging itself into what could only generously be called a smirk.
“Oh hey, beautiful,” he said, eyes sweeping over her in an appraising arc that made Cynthia take half a step back, before he continued, “who might you be?”
Beside him, Volkner sighed instantly, like this was an all-too-familiar thing. “Flint. Don’t.”
“Ah—sorry, should probably introduce myself first, huh? Name’s Flint,” he said, flashing a grin as he offered his hand, completely ignoring his friend. “And if you’re looking for someone to show you around, I know all the best spots.”
For a second Cynthia almost brushed him off, before stopping herself. She glanced at the outstretched hand, and then, without thinking, flicked her eyes toward Myst.
And—
His almost-always-there smile hadn’t vanished, but it looked different now. Plastered on. A little too perfect.
She turned back to Flint.
Took his hand.
Firm shake. Cool expression.
“Cynthia.”
Flint’s grin widened. “Pretty name.”
She didn’t respond. Just slowly pulled her hand back, resisting the urge to wipe it on her jacket, and flicked her eyes back to Myst.
Still smiling.
His eyes weren’t.
Cynthia let her gaze linger on his face, on the tension behind that too-perfect smile.
On the way his blue eyes had shifted, from clear crystal to cold ice.
Then, without a word, Myst stepped forward.
One arm moved subtly, guiding her behind him. The other extended toward Flint in a smooth, practiced gesture.
Maybe, on another day, she would’ve been vaguely offended by the way he had deliberately moved her like that.
But right now?
She just watched his back.
And for no reason at all, a smile crept across her lips.
Who is the main character?
