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The bandages around her wrist—rubbery cloth with a protective gauze against the wound—were the first thing Liko felt when she awoke the next morning.
Her face contorted in a grimace as she felt her skin lightly tugged under the adhesive. She ran her other hand over it before she opened her eyes to look properly, tracing back over the previous day’s events. She, Roy, Dot, Friede, and their pokémon had traveled to Rakua. They had camped there, and had made their way to the secret crater where Pagogo had used his power to seal away the Rakurium. There they had met Lucius, were confronted by the Explorers, and watched as Lucius and Gibeon passed away to the afterlife. Spinel took control, and caused the Six Heroes to rampage out of control with Rakurium, forcing them to flee the mountain as Rakua was destroyed under their feet. The Brave Asagi had managed to pick them up, and then—
Liko scrunched her face, and pressed her forehead against the bandage on the wrist—the bandage that was securing the gauze against the piercings Cap’s fangs had left there. He had bitten her because—
No.
She took a deep breath through her nose, and exhaled it shakily through her mouth. She knew what happened. She had experienced it. She didn’t need to recall it now, not when she didn’t even know for sure that things hadn’t already been resolved. After they had followed Cap back to—his room, and he had slammed and locked the door in their faces, Orio had ushered her to the medical bay for Mollie to patch her up. Mollie had sent her to bed afterward, assuring her that Orio had already seen to it that Roy and Dot had returned to their rooms as well. Despite herself, Liko had fallen asleep quickly; the moment she’d hit her mattress, fatigue crashed into her with as much power as the Brave Asagi itself. That being the case, with her having fallen asleep so early, there was no way of knowing that Orio, Mollie, Murdock, and Landau hadn’t landed the ship and found Friede overnight. There was no way of knowing that he was well and truly gone, and so, no need to dwell on it.
Friede wouldn’t, after all. He also wouldn’t rest until he knew everyone was all right. Liko knew the rest of the crew felt the same way.
She released another shaky breath, and loosened her grip on her injured wrist. It was all right. It was all right. She would go to breakfast, and Friede would be there in his usual chair, drinking his morning coffee before he revealed that he had just forgotten to mention a failsafe he had in his back pocket just in case he and Char were blown off the airship. Everyone would rag on him for forgetting (Cap might even shock him for it), but then they would laugh and set to work figuring out a plan for how to rescue the Six Heroes from the Explorers.
That was what would happen. She was sure of it.
With one more deep breath to steel herself, Liko sat up and swung her legs over the side of her bed. On her other side, curled up against the wall beneath the blankets, Florag—Meowscarada loosed a sleepy, “mrow?” Despite everything, Liko smiled. Evolved or not, Meowscarada was still her Meowscarada. That was nothing if not a good sign. Hattrem, too, poked her head up from under the blanket at the end of the bed, humming happily the moment her eyes met Liko’s. And Pagogo—
It might have been the ship, or maybe it was just her heart, but Liko felt a sudden drop in her stomach as she caught sight of the pokéball by her pillow. She bit her lip as she picked it up; it felt heavier and colder than usual in her palm.
“Pagogo?” she said tentatively. “Would you like to come out? It’s time for breakfast.”
The pokéball remained still and silent. She held her breath and pressed the center button. There was no reaction.
Liko swallowed as Meowscarada rumbled low, sympathetic and soothing. It was fine. Pagogo was probably just still tired. After all, the last time he had sealed Rakua, he had transformed into his pendant state. He wasn’t a pendant again, he was just in his ball. That had to mean that he was healthier this time than he had been the last time, didn’t it?
It had to.
She dressed quickly, and once she was presentable made her way to the dining room. Somehow, the ship felt emptier as she made her way there. She didn’t see as many of the wild pokémon—really only the Maushold, as they made their way quickly toward Dot’s room carrying a tray of doughnuts and shuckle juice—nor did she hear Roy’s boisterous voice as he worked on training his pokémon first thing in the morning. Yet as she neared the dining room, the sound of plates and silverware caught her ears, as well as voices muffled by the door. She couldn’t make out Friede’s, exactly, but the fact that there were people eating breakfast like normal was a good sign. It had to be—it was definitely a good sign.
Liko opened the door to the dining room, and froze in the doorway.
There were indeed people in the dining room. Orio, Mollie, and Roy were all seated at the table, while Murdock bustled around it, setting down platters and filling plates. The table itself was covered to spilling. Every inch of its surface contained glasses of juice, a pot of coffee, a kettle of tea; the place settings around the table had plates that not only no longer had any surface visible on them due to the amount of food, but had several smaller plates also overflowing with food to go with them. The middle of the table had large platters of food surrounding the makeshift beverage bar, with heaps of eggs of just about every variety (scrambled, over-easy, hardboiled, softboiled . . .), bacon, sausage, pancakes, waffles, croissants, muffins, bagels—anything that could be eaten for breakfast, hot or cold or otherwise, layered the table, with all the fixings to go with them.
“Good morning, Liko!” Murdock said, his voice bright enough to rival the sun. “Take any seat you like and dig in!”
“Might need to literally dig,” Mollie muttered, shaking her head as she took a sip of her coffee.
Roy gave Liko an awkward smile. “Murdock has been, uh . . . busy this morning.”
“Hah! Shows what you know. I started last night,” Murdock said, and he playfully swatted Roy’s head with the spatula he was holding as he passed by his seat. As Roy readjusted his hat, Murdock said, “I have more doughnuts on the way if you have a particular flavor in mind, Liko. Just tell me what you’re craving and I’ll get it to you.”
Liko squeezed the door frame. “I . . .”
“I think you have every possible variety of doughnut here on the table already,” Orio said, rolling her eyes. “Seriously, give it a rest. We’re never going to be able to finish all this.”
“Not with that attitude,” Murdock huffed. “Isn’t that right, Roy?”
Roy, his mouth stuffed full of pancake, nodded at Murdock with a smile. The second Murdock’s back was turned, Roy locked eyes with Liko and vigorously shook his head, his smile gone.
“Besides,” Murdock continued. “It’s good to keep busy. Busy hands are busy minds.”
“I’m not disagreeing,” Orio said. “I’m just saying, this is a lot of food.”
“You can never have too much food!”
“How many people do you think we have on this ship?”
Not enough, Liko thought. Because although the majority of the table was hidden from view by the enormous breakfast Murdock had prepared (and was still preparing), there was one place seating that was conspicuously barren. The head of the table, where Friede usually sat, did not have a single plate or mug of coffee. The chair was still pushed back from the table just so, just how it had been when Friede had left it the morning they departed for Rakua. It was pushed back yet empty, left vacant for a man who wouldn’t come to fill it.
Liko squeezed the door frame harder. A sickening flutter had taken up root in her stomach, spreading to her chest so that it filled her lungs and made it hard to take in air. Spots danced in her vision as she struggled to swallow.
“Liko?” Mollie’s voice sounded distant. “Are you all right?”
Liko pressed her trembling lips together. If she opened them, she would surely vomit, ruining the breakfast Murdock had spent so long preparing. But she couldn’t talk without opening her mouth, so in lieu of giving the excuse she wanted to, she just shook her head before she turned and bolted back down the hall.
- - -
Liko remained in her room for the rest of the night. The next morning she tried breakfast again, but didn’t manage to make it to the dining room before she needed to go back. Mollie visited her in her room, to change the bandages on the bite Cap had given her. The first night Liko hadn’t been able to speak, but the second she mustered the courage to voice the words that were making her so sick.
“Did . . . has there been any sign of . . .”
Mollie paused as she pulled the used gauze away from Liko’s skin, but only briefly; if Liko wasn’t paying attention, she thought she might not have noticed.
“No. Unfortunately, given the altitude we were flying at and the velocity of both the Brave Asagi and . . . we haven’t been able to pinpoint a location, and none of us have been able to reach him.”
Liko’s nails dug into her palm, and Meowscarada placed a comforting paw over her hand. “I see.”
Mollie was quiet as she spread antiseptic over the bite wound, and Liko contained her wince at the sting as best she could. As Mollie wrapped fresh gauze and bandages around Liko’s wrist, Liko asked again, “Char . . . could have caught him, right? He was knocked around at first, but he could have gotten his bearings and saved them both . . . right?”
Mollie was silent as she finished securing the bandage—long enough for Liko to look over. When their eyes met Mollie smiled, but it did nothing to counter the sorrow Liko saw in her eyes.
“Yeah,” Mollie said. “He could have.”
- - -
The third day, Mollie gave the all clear for Liko to leave the bandages off, given the scabs that had formed over the wounds. By this time, Liko was taking her meals in her room, delivered by the Maushold. Everything was delicious, as usual; it seemed Murdock was still cooking with fervor. But Liko couldn’t bring herself to talk to or face any of them. Even eating was difficult. She wasn’t very hungry, and though the food was delicious, it was delicious because it was Murdock’s food. Thinking about Murdock made her think about Friede, and thinking about Friede made her—
She couldn’t think about him. She didn’t think about him, as much as she was able. But it was hard not to, when she was on his ship, surrounded by his crew, in a cabin full of things they had discovered on their adventures together. It was too much; she couldn’t take it anymore.
So that night, she sent a note back with the Maushold, letting the rest of the crew know that she needed to return to school. She didn’t say why, and she knew they wouldn’t ask questions, but Cap had yelled at her through the door until Meowscarada confronted him in the hallway.
Cap was still angry, and though Meowscarada was angry at Cap for being angry, Liko couldn’t bring herself to be. Cap was angry, but that was only because he was hurting. How could she be angry with him for hurting?
So as Meowscarada yelled at Cap for yelling at Liko, Liko herself curled into a ball under her blankets, and tried her best not to think about anything at all.
- - -
Liko hadn’t been able to bring herself to leave her room during the following days (save to use the restroom), though Roy had stopped outside of her door to talk to her almost every day. He had often asked questions, trying to get a response, but other times he had rambled on about whatever subject happened to come to mind. The very last time he had sat outside her door however, the morning after they had crossed into Kanto airspace, he had let his usual cheer fall.
“Hey, Liko? I know that things are . . . bad, right now. I know that’s why you’ve stayed in your room, and Dot in hers, too. And I know that’s why you want to go back to school, but . . . it’s . . . not going to be for forever, right? It’ll—everything will get put right, and we’ll get to adventure together again. And we can keep in touch, too, while you’re at school. Right?”
Liko had sat at the base of the door, and had leaned her head against the wood. Pagogo’s pokéball was cradled in her hands; it was as still and cold as it had been the morning after Rakua.
“Please, Liko?” Roy had said, his voice cracking over her name. “I . . . I don’t want to lose you, too.”
Liko had shut her eyes as they started to sting. She opened her mouth over a trembling breath, but as before, her voice failed her. She wanted to tell him that it would be all right, and that he wasn’t alone. He still had his pokémon, and Cap, and Mollie, Orio, Murdock, and Landau. Dot would be on the ship until the crew reached Alola. And Roy didn’t need Liko, not really; she had almost failed her Terastal Course (had failed it, really, had Grusha not decided to pass her for reasons outside of her examination), couldn’t get Pagogo to come out of his ball, and had only been able to stand there and watch as—
Roy would be fine. Better than fine, even. Liko had earnestly wanted to tell him that.
But no words came to her lips, and after a few more minutes of waiting, she had heard him stand up from the floor and walk away from her room.
- - -
It took a little over two weeks for them to reach her school. When the crew dropped her off, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to look at them, and it had taken everything within her to be able to say goodbye to Roy. Not being able to say goodbye to Dot stung, although Liko wasn’t sure if she would have been able to manage it even if Dot had left her room. It was hard enough to say goodbye to one best friend, let alone another.
No, she told herself as she settled back into her dorm room. (Ann was in class, for which Liko was grateful; she needed time to compose herself before her roommate returned.) I can’t think of them like that anymore. Thinking about Roy or Dot would make her think about their adventures, which would make her think about the Brave Asagi, which would make her think about—and she couldn’t. So she placed everything from her room on the Brave Asagi in a trunk, which she then tucked away in her closet. She placed a password lock on the virtual diary she had used to record her adventures on her Rotom Phone, so that she wouldn’t be able to open it by mistake. She muted notifications from the crew members, Roy and Dot included, and used filters to block articles and posts with related terms (Rising Volt Tacklers, Explorers, Mt Kumuri) from showing up on her social media feeds. From now on, she would be just another student at Indigo Academy. She would focus on her studies, and nothing except for her studies, and by doing that, she would be just fine.
She would be just fine.
- - -
Her first week back, her parents came to visit. Liko had sent them an email to let them know that she was returning to school full time, though she hadn’t told them why. Yet when he saw her, her father hugged her and reassured her through tears that she was safe and that he and her mother would help her get through this, and her mother kept swallowing thickly and blinking back tears when she thought Liko wasn’t looking. They had stayed for a few days, before Liko was finally able to convince them that she would be fine and that they should return to Paldea. She could tell that her father hadn’t wanted to leave, but her mother had convinced him, though not before telling Liko that should she need to return home too, no one would think any less of her.
Her grandmother didn’t visit, but she did send a lengthy letter. Liko had started to read it, but put it in the trunk in her closet as soon as her eyes fell upon the word loss. Her grandmother meant well, and Liko loved her dearly; but by this point Liko had already been back at school for three weeks, and she was doing fine. There was no need to talk about loss of any kind—no need to drag any of that back up.
(And if she had taken to wearing headphones everywhere on campus, which she had, it was only because she enjoyed calming lo-fi music so much that she couldn’t stand to be without it. It had nothing to do with the fact that the school was abuzz with talk about the Rising Volt Tacklers and the destruction that had taken place on Mt Kumuri. That wasn’t the reason at all. She was fine.)
Liko ate one meal per day—supper, usually, in the dining hall—though she made sure that Meowscarada and Hattrem got the three meals they needed. (Meowscarada disapproved of Liko not eating with them, but gave up trying to convince her by the third week.) She made sure she showered at least once a week, and did her best to stay on top of her ever-growing laundry pile. (Cap's bite had left a permanent scar on her wrist, but that was easily hidden by her sleeve.) She accompanied Ann around campus whenever Ann asked her to hang out, and made it a point to keep her music on low volume so that she could hear what Ann said to her and respond appropriately. She listened to her music during her lectures, but read the textbooks thoroughly at night to teach herself whatever she had missed in class. She did most of her homework, even if she turned it in late, and put her best effort into studying before her tests.
Two months in, Liko felt she had mastered the art of being fine. And then she saw Ann’s most recent social media post.
While she had muted all the members of the crew (including Nidothing—it was for the best, she knew), she hadn’t muted Ann, because Ann had nothing to do with where Liko had been before returning to school. As such, while she didn’t post anything of her own on social media anymore, Liko still checked her feed to see what her friend was up to. And that was how she saw the post Ann had made that morning, live for everyone on the internet to see.
Kidnapped girls?
Liko’s hands shook around her phone. She was Ann’s roommate at Indigo Academy, and had been since the very start of school. The kidnapped girl that Ann was referring to, then, had to be her. But Liko hadn’t been kidnapped. It might have felt that way at first, but that was only because Liko hadn’t known what was going on, or why so many seemed to be after her and her pendant. And that was ages ago, and things had changed, and it didn’t need—Liko didn’t need—Liko couldn’t think about it anymore anyway, because—
She startled as the door to their room burst open, Ann skipping in while laughing over her shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah!” she called out to the hallway. “I’ll meet you there tomorrow, I swear!”
“You better!” someone unseen from the hallway called back. Ann kicked the door shut behind her, humming a cheerful tune as she kicked her shoes off at the door, and met Liko’s eyes with a beaming smile.
“Liko, hey! You wouldn’t believe what just went down! So, Sakiko and I were down at the battle court because we wanted to battle, y’know? When all of a sudden these Water Class guys show up and are like, ‘you Leaf Classers need to clear off, it’s time for Indigo Figh—”
Ann cut off abruptly as Liko held up her phone, screen out for her to see, and asked, “What is this?”
Ann smiled awkwardly. “Your Rotom Phone?” When Liko didn’t so much as smile, Ann’s own faded. “Aaaand my post from this morning, it looks like.”
Liko’s arm fell to her side, and it was only thanks to the Rotom inside that her phone didn’t hit the floor. Instead, it swooped back into her pocket as she asked, “Why?”
Ann shifted nervously, running her tongue along her teeth and not meeting Liko’s eyes. “Why what?”
“Why would you post that? I wasn’t kidnapped, or—or anything like that. So why—?”
“I know you weren’t, but everyone else is saying you were,” Ann said. Liko felt numb as she watched Ann walk over to her bed, shoving the clothes on top onto the floor. “Well, not you exactly, your name hasn’t been made public, but I know enough to put two-and-two together, y’know? So when everyone else was saying the Rising Volt Tacklers—”, sickening flutters filled Liko’s lungs, “—kidnapped some kids, and I knew you were with them, I knew I could, you know, do something about it.”
With the articles and other related posts blocked, Liko hadn’t heard anything about the crew kidnapping anyone. She curled her hands into fists in front of her stomach to try and stop them shaking, and did her best to take a breath even though it made her feel as though she would throw up.
“What did you do?”
“Didn’t you read the AMA post?” Ann looked over her shoulder at last, and Liko shook her head. “Oh. Well, it doesn’t matter, ‘cause no one believed me anyway.”
“Why?”
“Well, because lots of people are saying they know the kidnapped kids, right? You can’t just believe everyone on the internet, and even though I had proof—”
“No,” Liko interrupted, and swallowed hard to try to tamp the bile down. “Why—why did you do this?”
“I told you, it’s because I knew—”
“No!” Liko cried, surprising both Ann and herself with the volume of her cry. On her bed, Meowscarada lifted her head, and Hattrem growled a little. “Why did you post anything about me at all? Why would you do that? I haven’t done anything—!”
“That’s why!” Ann said, just as loudly. “Because you haven’t done anything since coming back to school! You’re a mess, Liko! You just—”
“I am not!”
“You are too! You walk around here like a zombie, you don’t listen to half of what anyone tells you, you come out but you just stand there in silence when you do, you barely eat, you barely shower, your laundry is—”
“You’re not one to talk about laundry.”
“Mine’s messy, but at least it’s clean! You never show up to battle studies, and Maki told me you’re failing geography because you won’t do the work—”
“How would Maki know?”
“She’s the T.A., she saw everyone’s grades!”
“That’s against the rules!”
“That’s not the—!” Ann let out a frustrated yell, and Liko put her hand back to deter Hattrem from leaping off the bed to attack her. “You’re not here! You block everyone out on those damn headphones, and just walk around here like—like some kind of ghost! I’ve tried really hard to get through to you, but nothing was working, so I thought this might.”
“You thought posting about me online would get me to do my geography homework?”
“I thought it would get you to do something. Yell, be mad, whatever! And if I could set the record straight by telling people that you, Roy, and Dot weren’t ever in danger, then all the better!” Ann huffed a humorless laugh. “Not that anyone believed me, anyway. They just accused me of being a bootlicker for child predators, and then the mods of the sub banned my account.”
Silence fell. Liko’s lungs were still consumed by the sickening flutters, preventing any air from getting in or out. Her throat was closed, her skin was clammy, and she felt herself shaking so badly that her vision shook with it.
“Say something,” Ann said finally. “Yell, or something. I know I screwed up. I shouldn’t have done that without asking you first. But I—Liko?! Where are you—?!”
Liko was already halfway through their dorm room window, but she paused on the sill just long enough to yell, “Don’t follow me!” before she jumped the rest of the way out. She heard scrambling footsteps in the room behind her, but ignored them as she sprinted away from the building. Their dorm opened out into a courtyard, with a concrete road just beyond it. She crossed both before she found what she was looking for: a way up onto one of the rooftops.
She hadn’t been on any of the roofs since she had last attended school full time, but the way up was no more difficult now than it had been then. If anything, it was easier; the bricks jutting out from the wall were smooth and evenly spaced, functioning like a ladder. After all the time she had spent trying to make her way up unsteady cave walls or unstable mountainsides, this was no harder than walking down a well-trodden forest path.
Safely on the roof now, Liko closed her eyes, her hand on her chest as she tried to calm her racing heart. She was fine now; she was outside, able to take in the cool, fresh night air. There was no reason to be upset. She was fine. She was okay. She would be just—
She startled at the sound of soft feet hitting the roof, but when she whipped around she saw that it was only Meowscarada. But the relief that sagged her shoulders when her eyes met Meowscarada’s vanished when she noticed the building that was behind Meowscarada.
Liko hadn’t been paying attention when she was running. All she had been able to think about was how she needed to get away, and how she wanted to find a way up onto a rooftop so that she could put as much distance between her and Ann as possible. Yet now that Meowscarada was there, pulling her awareness back to the narrow rooftop they stood upon, Liko noticed exactly where she was. The roof she was on was connected to another building on one end, and not just any building, either; it was connected to the clock tower. The ladder on the wall behind Meowscarada led up into the clock tower, and on the other side there was a far gap that could be crossed with a jump . . .
“Found you!”
Liko swallowed hard, and shut her eyes. No. She couldn’t think about this. She couldn’t think about this. She couldn’t—
“I could ask you the same question. I have business with that girl.”
No, no, no, it wasn’t, she couldn’t—
“You two, don’t be so reckless! . . . But I like your spirit.”
But it was. It was the very same. The very same roof he had found her on, the very same roof she had jumped from, the very same fall from which he and Char had caught her after Pagogo had saved her from Ceruledge’s Psycho Cut.
It was the very same roof where she had met Friede for the very first time.
Liko wrapped her arms around herself as her knees hit the rooftop. At once, Meowscarada was by her side, soft paws bracing her as loud, violent sobs wracked her body.
This was the roof where she had met Friede. Friede had been there to protect her, because the Explorers were after her pendant. Her pendant, which had turned out to be Pagogo. Pagogo, whom Liko wanted to take to Rakua. She had asked Friede to take her and Pagogo to Rakua, and Friede had agreed, and because they had gone where no humans had any business being due to how dangerous the altitude was, Friede had—Friede was—
“It’s—!” Liko gasped, coughing and gagging as the night air hit the back of her throat through her sobs. “My—It’s my fault, it was my fa-ault—!”
Meowscarada hissed in harsh disagreement, but Liko turned her face against Meowscarada’s chest regardless, her tears quickly soaking her partner’s sweet-smelling fur.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry . . .”
Strong purrs rumbled from deep within Meowscarada’s chest as she folded her arms around Liko, and Liko held her ever tighter as two months of pent up grief finally broke through the dam.
- - -
When Liko sat up sometime later, she was no longer on the school roof, but instead on the deck of the Brave Asagi.
She sat stock still, every muscle in her body rigid. It was still nighttime; the full moon shone overhead, and the wind carried the familiar, sweet smell of clouds and sea breeze. She could hear the propellers whirring, and when she looked down at herself, she found that she was no longer in her school uniform, but in her traveling clothes instead.
How did this happen? she wondered, staring at her hands. How did I get . . .
“Well, it’s about time you woke up. Or, I guess—would that really be the right word for it?”
Liko’s heart leaped into her throat, and she whipped around as she scrambled to her feet. There, watching her from where he leaned back against the railing—
“Friede?!” Liko felt as though she would pass out. She stumbled a little, but maintained her balance as she placed her hand against her panicking heart. “How—you—”
“I think you’re the only one who can answer that question,” he said, an achingly familiar flippant grin on his face. “It’s your dream, after all.”
My dream?
Liko’s heart lowered with her shoulders. Her dream—she was dreaming. That explained it. It explained why she was on the Brave Asagi, rather than her school rooftop. It explained why she was in her traveling clothes, and not her school uniform. And it explained why Friede—
“So it’s not real,” she said quietly. “You’re still gone.”
“Well . . .” Friede said, dragging the word out as he tipped his head back. They were so high up the clouds were all around them, and yet there were still millions of stars scattered above them. “That depends on how you define gone. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“But this isn’t real. It’s a dream.”
“That’s true, it is a dream. But it’s your dream, inside your head, that you’re experiencing right now. That makes it real enough, wouldn’t you say?”
Liko frowned. It was a mistake, she knew—she knew she should be doing everything she could to wake herself up, to not get attached to something she would only see when she was sleeping, and perhaps never again. But against every piece of internal logic telling her to go in the opposite direction, Liko allowed her feet to carry her over to the railing, so she could stand next to him.
“When I wake up, you won’t be there,” she said. She hugged her arms around herself, and looked out at the clouds over the railing. “You’ll still be gone. Lost. Because I—I—”
“Because you?”
Liko scrunched her eyes shut, but that didn’t stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks. “Because I couldn’t save you! Because I just watched as you and Char were thrown off the ship—”
“Hey—”
“Even though you protected and saved me s-so many times—!”
“And I’d do it again. Listen.” Friede placed his hands on Liko’s shoulders, and waited until she opened her eyes to look at him through a veil of tears before he continued. “What happened wasn’t your fault. You know that. What could you have done, huh?”
“Exactly,” Liko said. “I couldn’t do anything. Because no matter how many adventures I’ve been on, I’m still no—”
“Nope.” Friede lifted one hand to press a finger against Liko’s mouth, silencing her. “You couldn’t do anything because no normal person can pull a grown Charizard anywhere, much less on a tilted ship flying at terminal velocity. Now matter how smart and capable you are—and you are very smart and capable—that’s beyond your or anyone else’s ability to do. Even I couldn’t do it. How do you think I ended up wherever I am?”
Liko sniffed, another sob wracking her, and lifted her arm to scrub it across her eyes. “We were only there because of me. Because I asked—”
“And I wanted to go,” he interrupted. “You think I would have turned down an opportunity like that? Never. Mysteries and legends are what make life worth living. If living to old age meant I had to sit around, never seeing anything new, remarkable, or hell, even dangerous ever again, then I’d pass every time. You asked for the very same thing I brought the Rising Volt Tacklers together to do.”
Liko shook her head. “I’m sorry—”
“Liko.” Friede gave her shoulders a little shake, forcing her to meet his eyes again. His smile was gone now, replaced by the type of look he only ever wore when he was worrying about something he wouldn’t tell her, Roy, or Dot about. “Listen to me. What happened to me, whatever it was, was not your fault. I don’t blame you. So don’t blame yourself, okay?”
“Of course you don’t,” Liko muttered. “You never would.”
“Exactly.” Friede smiled again. “Glad to see you got to know me over the time we spent traveling together.”
She did know him, which was why she knew he’d say whatever he could to protect her, feelings included. Not that he would lie, of course; in all the time she had known him, Friede had never lied or condescended to her. While he tried to keep his worries from Liko, Roy, and Dot, he was also always honest with them when it counted. He respected them, and it showed. So he—or her dream version of him, anyway—was being honest with her now, in saying that he didn’t and wouldn’t blame her; but that didn’t make it any easier for Liko to agree with him.
Liko turned away from him, and laid her forehead down on the cool metal railing. “How can you be so easygoing?” she asked. “You’re . . . gone. You can’t go on adventures or search for mystery anymore. It’s all over.”
“All stories end sometime,” he said, and the answer was so him that Liko laughed around another fresh splash of tears. “I’m just glad mine went out with a bang instead of a snore.”
“I’m not.”
“Liko . . .” Friede put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a one-armed hug. It wasn’t real—it was just a dream—but she still leaned against his side, breathing in the scent of leather from his jacket. “My story might have ended, but that doesn’t mean everyone else’s did. And if you think about it, my story isn’t over, either, if others choose to carry it on for me. That’s what you did for Lucius, isn’t it? By taking Pagogo to Rakua?”
Liko felt her lower lip trembling again. “And if I hadn’t, you’d still—”
“Ah-ah.” Friede’s chide was accompanied by him gently tugging on her hair—not enough to hurt, but enough to get her attention. “We’ve been over that already. No need to retread old ground, is there?”
“Then what about Pagogo?” Liko demanded. “He won’t come out of his ball. He hasn’t had anything to eat or drink in months. It’s like he’s—”
“Pagogo was a pendant for one hundred years before you woke him up. He didn’t eat or drink during that time, either. I’m sure he’s just resting.”
“How can you be sure of that?”
“How can you be sure he’s not?”
Liko scrunched her face in consternation, looking back over the railing again. “That’s not an answer.”
“Well, even a genius of my caliber doesn’t always have all the answers. Sorry about that.”
They stood together in silence for a long moment. Liko didn’t know when she would wake up, and a strong part of her didn’t want to. Though she knew it was a dream, standing on the deck of the Brave Asagi with Friede made her feel, for the first time in months, like everything truly would be okay. Friede did that, she supposed. Even when he didn’t have all the answers, or she could tell that he had something worrying him that he wasn’t sharing (intentionally, this time, rather than forgetting like usual), somehow him just being around made her feel as though things would always work out in the end.
She took a shaking breath, and wiped away the last tears on her cheeks. “I really miss you.”
Friede smiled. “I’m sure wherever I am, I miss you and the rest of the crew, too. And hey, no one’s saying this goodbye was permanent. We don’t know what happened. For all you know, I’m making my way back to you all right now.” His smile grew. “And that I can say for sure, because I know everything you do. We’re in your head, after all.”
“Mollie said—”
“Mollie is what she calls a realist, but the rest of the world calls a pessimist,” Friede said. “She’s the best pokémon doctor you’ll ever find, but that doesn’t mean her logic always holds up to the world around us.”
“I’ll tell her you said that the next time I see her.”
“Please don’t. I don’t want to be killed for real.”
Despite herself, Liko giggled. “Okay, I won’t. I promise.”
“Good. Onto the next question.” Friede turned to face her, leaning against the railing himself once again. “What are you going to do now?”
“I . . . don’t know,” Liko admitted. “I have my classes, and laundry . . .”
“Are classes and laundry what you want to do?”
“I need to do them. Ann was right, I barely have any clean clothes left.”
“That’s not what I asked. Look.” Friede turned so he was facing the railing again, and swept his arm in a gesture toward the clouds and stars. “There’s a whole wide world out there, Liko. And you’ve only just started to see it. If you want your story to end here and now, well, no one can stop you . . . but I think that would be unlike the Liko I’ve been proud to call my friend.”
Once again her eyes stung, and Liko pressed her palms against them to keep from crying again. “I’m not—I didn’t—”
“It’s your call to make,” Friede said. His expression was inscrutable when she looked up at him again, his eyes warm but his smile tinged with a sorrow she could only guess at the meaning of. “But whatever you choose, I hope you—”
The rest of Friede’s sentence was drowned out by a booming bell, the sound waves rocking through Liko’s body and crashing against her ear drums. She gasped in pain, her hands flying to cover her ears as she sat up—
Sat up?
Liko panted heavily as she sat on the cool, shaded stone inside the clock tower, the sunlight filtering in from the arched window just above the short wall. The bell inside the tower chimed overhead, almost drowning out Meowscarada’s panicked (and then outraged) yowling just beside her. As the ringing of the bell slowed to a stop, Liko lowered her hands to her lap, staring at the brown skirt that was once again covering her knees.
That’s right. It was only a dream. She knew that, and the dream version of Friede had said that, too, multiple times. She wasn’t really wearing her traveling clothes, but rather her school uniform. And she wasn’t on the deck of the Brave Asagi, but was instead inside the clock tower attached to the roof where she had first met Friede that fateful night.
Although, she remembered being on the roof . . .
“Meowscarada, did you carry me here after I fell asleep?” she asked. Meowscarada, her fur still poofed from the sudden ringing of the clock tower bell, nodded. Liko gave her a wan smile. “Thank you. The roof probably isn’t the safest spot to sleep, is it?”
Meowscarada nodded, and then turned from Liko so she could stretch, her claws extending as she arched her back. Liko followed her lead, pushing herself to her feet so that she, too, could work out the stiffness in her shoulders and arms.
She couldn’t remember when she had fallen asleep, and the gumminess in her eyes told her that she’d cried herself there in the end. But despite her sore muscles and gummy eyes, and the fact that she was still in yesterday’s uniform, she felt strangely—
Liko paused. If she closed her eyes, she could still remember, however faintly, how Friede’s leather jacket smelled. She remembered what fresh shuckle juice tasted like, and how it felt when the wind whipped through her hair on the airship’s deck. She remembered how the sunset looked when she could see all the way to the edge of the horizon, and how her own laugh sounded alongside Roy’s and Dot’s.
Her throat felt thick again, unpleasant fluttering making its way from her stomach to her chest. She sniffed hard, and swallowed past the thick feeling.
I’m not okay. Nothing is fine. I’m here now, but all of that still happened. And I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I’m just . . .
“Mrow?”
Liko sniffed again, and tried to smile as she looked over at Meowscarada, who was watching her in concern. “I’m—it’s—I was just thinking,” she said. Meowscarada tilted her head, the squint of her eyes suggesting she didn’t entirely buy it, but she didn’t pursue the subject, either.
The sun was high in the sky already, and when Liko pulled her phone from her pocket, she saw why: it was already noon. She grimaced, and was about to put her phone back in her pocket when she once again hesitated.
For the past two months, she had avoided anything that could remind her of the Rising Volt Tacklers, and look where that had gotten her: crying on a rooftop before spending the night in a clock tower. Was it really worth it to keep running? Would that really be what helped her to be okay?
That would be unlike the Liko I’ve been proud to call my friend.
Liko took a deep breath, and opened her social media feed. Before she could chicken out, she removed all of the filters blocking content about the Rising Volt Tacklers from view. That accomplished, she returned to her feed—and her heart stuttered in a painful lurch at what she saw.
Nidothing—Dot—had posted a new video overnight, it seemed. A quick glance at her page revealed that the video was about Friede—an overview of some of his adventures and accomplishments. And while new Nidothing videos were usually met with enthusiasm and joy from the internet, this time . . .
Liko’s hand shook as she scrolled through the feed. Post after post swearing at Nidothing, calling her awful names, threatening to hurt her, accusing her of supporting people who hurt kids (while saying at the same time Friede was someone who would), telling her to end her own life . . .
“This isn’t right,” Liko said, as Meowscarada peered at her phone over her shoulder. “How could they do this to her, Meowscarada? She didn’t do anything wrong!”
Meowscarada growled, her lips pulled back over her fangs in anger. Liko looked back at her phone screen. Every second or so the #NidothingIsOverParty tag updated with a new post, with the most recent one saying that if the website wouldn’t shut down Nidothing’s channel, then the fans should take it upon themselves to make sure Nidothing could never post again.
It wasn’t right. It wasn’t okay. And neither was Liko, but while she didn’t know that she was ready to face everyone again when just thinking about them made her wish the earth would open up and swallow her whole, she knew she couldn’t allow the harassment to stand. She opened a new post, and typed out a response as quickly as she could.
It was only one post, and would likely be as effective as Ann claimed her AMA had been the day before. But it was something, at least. Something positive to deflect from the harassment and threats, until she could bring herself to reach out to Dot and the others again.
She closed her social media feed, and took a deep breath. It was a new day. A new day, and a new chance to start over. Not completely, but what was it her grandmother had always said? The hardest part was taking the first step. Once she managed to do that, all the others would come much easier.
“Hey, Meowscarada . . .” Meowscarada’s ears flicked up as Liko turned to her, and Liko smiled as best she could. “Would you want to look at my Brave Asagi diary with me? Before we head back, I mean.”
Meowscarada’s eyes lit up, and with a joyful cry she bounded over to Liko. Liko switched her phone to tablet mode, and steeled herself as she entered the password on the file. She didn’t know how much she would be able to read through before it became too much, but even if she wasn’t able to read the entire thing, that was okay so long as she took that first step.