The knitting needles clicked rhythmically in Luvia’s practiced hands.

  Click, click, click, they went, as Neela yammered over the phone on loudspeaker.

  Luvia had already gone through the worst of it…

  She’d finally spilled the news about everything after getting back home the previous day. Everything she’d been keeping in for the last four days. Glacia, the Gyarados, the Zangoose… the money!

  She’d never forget the look on her mother and grandmother’s faces. Dumbstruck.

  “Where did you get that money?” Nana’s mouth had been open like a flytrap.

  Luvia had grinned. “The job.”

  “Luvia,” her mother had said, glowering. “Where did you get the money, be honest…”

  “The job! The same job!”

  Silence.

  …

  It took some convincing, some explaining, and Luvia had let it all out like a flood… except for the tiny detail about the egg. She wasn’t sure how they’d feel about her getting another pokémon so soon. Both her parents had never had more than one pokémon at a time. Bincy had been part of the family for almost twenty years, and until Ziggy came along, the only household pokémon.

  But that notion of one person, one ‘mon just wouldn’t cut it for a trainer, as Andrea had so frequently expressed.

  “Don’t even think about one-tricking. Get another asap, Luvia, trust me. You’re going to do at least one or two Gyms, right? – Mida won’t be able to do it alone. I’ve got my Hoppip and Aron, and I’ll probably get a third before I take on my first Gym.”

  …

  “… Actually, I might skip the Gyms, you know. I think I’ll look straight into contests instead. They seem fun.”

  She remembered Ruby’s red-hot explanation about Contests versus Gyms that day at Slateport, and it had stuck with her. Though she didn’t know much about the whole thing yet, that boy had sold her on the idea. That, and the showcase she had seen with her own eyes… The music, the smiles of each performer, the spectacle… Battles against other trainers felt ruthless in comparison. One side of her loved the competitiveness of it, the feeling of getting better and stronger, but on the other, she hated the anxiety. Face to face with another person and their pokémon. One winner, one loser.

  And it wasn’t like chess or like badminton or like ping pong. It was battle. It was a plain and primal, ‘I can dominate you. If this was a real fight, your life would be in my hands.’

  She had only done it once, but it had been taste enough to know that.

  …

  “Oh my god, no! Don’t you remember what I told you? You’re getting the badges for the discounts… Unless you want to be paying full price for all trainer essentials? Is that what you want?”

  …

  “Oh shoot, I forgot… But wait, why don’t coordinators get discounts like that? They need pokéballs too, don’t they?”

  …

  “They get discounts for other stuff, like poffins, and cases and all other contest essentials – it’s a different set of items. Plus, think about the exam, Luvia! The more pokémon you have, the more moves, the more options!”

  …

  Andrea was right. There was no avoiding it. Luvia would need another pokémon for the mainland.

  Apparently, borrowing one for the battle aptitude test of the Trainer Exam had always been an option. The Trainer Exam Administration kept a stock of trained D-rank pokémon for any trainer without one of their own.

  Andrea didn’t recommend it though, because using a pokémon you trained yourself was better than placing your bets on one you had just met.

  …

  Click, click, click.

  “ – Okay, at least tell me you got a photo with her,” Neela said hopelessly.

  Click, click. Luvia’s face slackened.

  “Neela…” she sighed, hands working the knitting needles. “No autograph, no photos, okay? She was super busy. She didn’t have time – I tried.”

  Lies. It had completely slipped her mind. She’d been way too preoccupied with everything that was happening.

  “So you spent FOUR days with an uber-celeb and you have nothing to show for it?”

  Another sigh from Luvia. Then her eyes brightened. “Actually, I do! She taught Mida a new move!”

  There was silence over the phone for a second, then, “Oh my god, wowww! … that’s so lame…”

  Luvia frowned sourly. “Lame? – why, because you can’t sell it?”

  “No, sis, because it’s lame. You can’t hang it on a wall, and you can’t point to it and say, ‘See? I met a superstar.’”

  Click, click.

  “Bleh. Don’t rub it in.”

  She had already beaten herself up about it the previous day with Andrea on the other end of the line. But anyway, Neela was 100% mistaken – between an autograph or a photo with Glacia, or Mida learning a move, she would have picked the move a thousand times over. She wouldn’t be able to prove it to people, but whenever Mida used Aurora Veil, it would be her own private reminder. To her, that was more special than having a signed pokéball or a picture in an album.

  “…Ugh, anyway,” said Neela. “When is your exam again? The exact date.”

  Click, click, click. “Hmm, Andrea says it’s usually on the second week of December. She said it runs for a few days…”

  “Are you knitting something? It’s like I’m hearing that noise...”

  “Yeah… it’s for Mida.”

  More lies. It was for the egg.

  “Awww, what is it, like a little fin sock?”

  “Uhm, yeah…” Click, click, click.

  It was an old tradition in Clearcloud that if you kept an egg with intent to hatch it, either you or someone from your household had to knit a sleeve for it. They said that the egg needed to feel protected by its new family in order to hatch without issues. She was not yet anywhere near as fast as Nana or her mother, but Luvia could knit an egg sleeve no problem. She had gone for a nice blue yarn of wool, hoping that the pokémon inside would be a water-type, but barring that, a grass-type or even a bug-type would do.

  She thought about it a little – that Zangoose had been in that flowery wooded area of the island where butterfree and beautifly had been floating about. She wouldn’t mind a little wurmple if it meant she got the butterfly pokémon. She could still vividly remember Erissa and her Beautifly from the Slateport showcase. Moreover, the way a beautifly flew wasn’t like the regular bug-type. It beat its wings gently and quietly, it didn’t buzz or jerk or twitch around in the air like most others. It wasn’t annoying to be around.

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  As for grass-type… well, there was only one line of pokémon she knew of that was actually both grass-type and water-type.

  Lotad.

  Lotad was nice enough, but… *shiver*

  “K-k-k-k!!!” Flailing its arms around, beak clicking, head lolling. Slimy… Yuckity-yuck-yuck!

  It was the marmite in your favorite sandwich. Ruined the whole thing. Nice little lotad on one side, an adorably fun ludicolo on the other… and right in the middle – a lombre.

  Maybe that would change if she raised a lotad of her own? Maybe it was worth a shot?

  Even if it’s a lotad… I’ll keep it.

  She was willing to give it a try.

  “… Luvy, hello?”

  Luvia snapped to the present. “Yeah, totally, I think you should.”

  “You think I should?” said Neela incredulously. “Did you even hear what I said?”

  Luvia frowned. “You said something about asking for holidays, didn’t you?”

  “You weren’t even paying attention – I said that we’ve already booked our holidays.”

  “Mhm, cool?”

  “…We’re not coming for your birthday – they said I only just started, so it just wouldn’t be right.”

  Luvia shrugged. “It’s fine, sis, I don’t mind.”

  Neela hummed with suspicion. “So what, you have Mida and now you don’t care about anyone else, is that it?”

  Luvia laughed. “No, dummy! That’s not what I meant – I meant it’s fine if you guys can’t come. I’m not a little kid anymore, birthdays are just like any other day.”

  “Wow!” went Neela. “That’s literally the first time I’ve heard you say something like that. Something’s happened to you.”

  Click, click. A smile tugged at Luvia’s lips. “It’s all the training I’ve been doing, just like you wanted. Ooh! When you come back, I’ll show you how to swim with Mida – it’s so fun!”

  Because she was close to fully grown, Neela was an even better swimmer than her, and she could hold her breath for ages – well into the third minute. Luvia had no doubt her sister would fall as in love with harness diving as she had.

  “Well I’m glad you finally listened for once, Luvy. I’m glad you’re taking this exam. When you start getting into contests, I’ll be your agent, alright? Just so nobody goes ripping you off.”

  Luvia blew out a scoff and broke into a smile. “Sure.”

  Click, click, click…

  The remainder of August went by in the steady rhythm of routine. Having already fulfilled her mother’s condition of garnering the funds she’d need to sit her exam, Luvia slowed down with Mida’s training, taking her out to the woods thrice a week as opposed to nearly every day, and only heading into town to check the job board out of curiosity, not urgency.

  She wondered how the other members of the survey team were doing. It had been brief, but she found herself longing for another meet up. Another League job, only because the previous one had taught her so much.

  It was September now, her birth month, and though she’d never been aware of it before, it was a special month for trainers regionwide.

  The Ever Grand Conference had begun broadcasting from the last week of August, and Luvia had tuned in all too eager.

  An event she had never paid much mind to before had become one of the most interesting parts of her day.

  She learned that this year, only 212 trainers in the region had earned the 8 badges required to make the conference, and out of those 212, only 56% had decided to actually attend.

  118 trainers squared off against each other in single battles throughout the day. They’d battle for as many days as it took to bring that number down to 16.

  This early part of the competition was called the Rumble, and it was to sort the wheat from the chaff. Naturally, it was the event’s liveliest period.

  Since matches occurred concurrently, the TV only showed pundits discussing the trainer roster and making commentary on all sorts of topics, from past conferences to semi-related pop culture. Occasionally, a highlight from one of the battles was shown, and Luvia ogled those with drastically new eyes.

  Now that she had some experience under her belt, she could appreciate the moves and the thinking that went behind them. It was a totally different sport in her mind.

  The only way to track how a particular trainer was doing was to either be in attendance or to check the hour-by-hour updates provided by the broadcaster.

  There were a lot of numbers and calculations being explained for new viewers, but most of it still went over Luvia’s head. The main thing she understood was that this year’s Rumble was estimated to take anywhere from five days to a week, and that from the Round of 16, only one would have earned the right to take on the Elite 4.

  According to the pundits, the last time a trainer had made it all the way to Steven Stone during a conference event, had been three years ago – and the trainer got handled in minutes. It had been a controversy at the time, a speculation that the on-duty Elite 4 had been underperforming on purpose just to let the people have a show, but apparently, Steven Stone hadn’t quite gotten the memo.

  So what do they do then? Luvia wondered.

  The main conference event was supposed to be that one trainer who made it through the Rumble and through the Round of 16, and if necessary, Sudden Death matches.

  Glacia, along with the other members of the Elite 4 would be waiting all the meanwhile, only for one of them to wipe the challenger out on a whim?

  That’s all the battling the Champion and his elites got out of the conference?

  Impossible. That would mean the Champion could go for years without actually getting challenged!

  Putting the competition aside, September was also the region’s busiest trainer exam period. Eleven year-olds, youths, and adults, amped up from watching the conference, went in droves to sign up for the exam. Luvia was more than happy to take hers at a quieter time.

  If you lived in Clearcloud, September was just the month preceding harvest, and the month for going back to school.

  School. She’d miss those idle afternoons, taking detours through town with Carol and Nelly as they lugged around their book-stuffed backpacks. She’d miss the harmless gossip and the evening sessions for homework that was due in the next day, chewing sweets and with Nelly’s speakers playing ballads in the background.

  Time had always felt like a crawl in those days. It felt like it would be like that forever.

  Except not seeing her friends, the thought that she wouldn’t be going back excited her immensely. Time was moving now! There wasn’t enough of it in the day. It wasn’t idly rosy and nostalgic, but it was more gratifying.

  Moving with direction made her feel alive.

  “Do you have a goal?” Glacia had asked her.

  It was now close to a month after the survey team had left, but the few conversations she had with Glacia had sunk in deeper and made more sense.

  Do you have a goal… That was something not many kids her age ever really sat with. Not the ones in Clearcloud anyway. Yet it was one of the most important questions someone could ask, and one she kept reminding herself of frequently.

  I will reach Sootopolis. I’ll look for the woman called Zamal.

  That simple thought made her blood feel hot with curiosity and pushed her into a trainer’s frame of mind.

  Reaching Sootopolis wouldn’t be easy. It was on the other side of the region, hundreds of miles away on ship, and even more if you travelled through the mainland.

  After getting her license, she’d meet up with Andrea and if the latter hadn’t earned her first badge yet, they’d do so together – that was the plan. Though by the sounds of it, the mainland girl felt almost ready to take on her first Gym.

  Luvia really wanted Andrea to wait for her, but she never said it aloud – it was too selfish. A journey could be filled with pokémon and people, but it was a personal thing. It wouldn’t be right to cling on to her just because she found it daunting to go it alone.

  But I won’t be alone… I’ll have Mida, and I’ll have you… right?

  She was looking into her wardrobe, where the wild egg was cozily snuggled up in a makeshift nest of pillow fluff, and half-clothed in the blue sleeve Luvia had knitted for it.

  It hadn’t moved a twitch the entire time she had it. The only way she knew it wasn’t dead was because of the warmth she felt when she put her palm on its surface.

  There was a pokémon alive in there.

  “You need to hatch soon,” she told it that night. “If you don’t hatch soon, you won’t get to come with us.”

  Hatchling pokémon grew quickly, but they were very small at first. Very weak. If this egg hatched as late as November, it would only have around a month of growing before Luvia headed for the mainland.

  A month-old hatchling would still be far too weak to be of any help in the exam.

  Even now, almost halfway through September, it was cutting it very close.

  “Meehd…”

  Luvia reached down and picked Mida up, putting her down next to the egg on the waist-high shelf inside the wardrobe.

  “Mida is here too. She wants you to hatch.”

  Mida leaned, sniffing at the dark little corner where the egg was nestled.

  “Mida, make a little light for it. Veil.”

  “Meeeehhd…” Mida sighed grouchily.

  “Huh?” Luvia crinkled her nose. “Alright, don’t then, lazy.”

  Mida didn’t like using Aurora Veil, and Luvia thought she knew why. She could see it in the little one’s face every time she asked her to use it.

  It was a mental kind of struggle, not just physical. Like homework on a Saturday evening.

  Mida would first tense up and then her eyes would narrow, and she’d keep that strained pose for a few seconds before a ghostly light grew around her. It was very pretty in the dark, rich with green and violet, but it seemed to make Mida a little grumpy.

  Luvia hadn’t forced her to use it much, only a couple of times a day, normally once in the morning and once in the evening. She was sure that Glacia would have been disappointed with the little progress they’d made since learning the move.

  But oh well. Seeing Mida grumpy put her in a sour mood, so she didn’t push too much.

  “Meeehd…” Mida sighed, then a phantom of light flickered close to the fin on her head, gently illuminating the dark in the wardrobe.

  Luvia inhaled softly and kept still.

  Mida strained silently as the flicker of light grew and spread into a cascading halo of shimmering light. It was like flame, though rather than warm and licking up at the air, it was as a cold breeze and falling toward the ground.

  Luvia remained squatting there as Mida lit up the inside of the wardrobe, all for the sake of a blind and unmoving egg.

  Later on, an hour past midnight, that egg woke up.

  A/N:

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