Chapter 295 – I’m Okay
Chapter 295 – I’m Okay
CHAPTER 295 - I'M OKAY
"You don't have to be so… how do I say this, um, you don't have to stop telling me about what you're feeling just because of my issues. Show me your hand?"
Electivire outstretched an arm, showing me his new hand. Even though the skin of his fingers was black, it was just so pale, like a newborn's, and in some way, I supposed it was. The fur was shorter than the rest of his body's the skin of his fingers smoother than his other, calloused hand, and every time he tried to move them, he struggled to even make his fingers twitch, let alone flex his hand into a fist, or channel TE into it. I was almost scared to touch it, with the horror stories about Ditto cells Justin had told me months ago, but I knew the fear was unfounded. When I rubbed at the skin, Honey simply said he felt numb, almost nothing. The hand still wasn't his, and it would take another few weeks for it to get back to normal. Still, I patted Honey on the shoulder and stared up at him with a gentle smile. He was back, finally. One hour since I'd gotten him back from the Pokemon Center, and it was like he'd never even left. I'd missed traveling cities with him by my side, though right now we were sitting on a bench next to a bus stop. There was an ice cream stand nearby with a long file, and the hum of car engines filled the street. We weren't really waiting for the bus, but rather had just found it a convenient place to sit and talk. Most of the time, he had complained about the way his hand felt awful, at least until I came clean about my own hands, which was how this conversation had come up in the first place.
He hadn't cried as much as Princess, but instead of hurtling insults my way that I would have been ready to take in full, it was guilt, that wore him down. Pressed down on his shoulders and made him stand a little shorter than he actually was. The fact that he hadn't been there in the days following the fight with Zoroark. I leaned against his arm, hugging it with both of mine.
"Let's both do our best to recover," I muttered. "And hey, my leg's feeling way better since you've been gone. Soon I'll be able to actually walk without a crutch and put weight on it, can you believe that? So you focus on your hand for now, okay?"
He let out a non-committal grunt as he nodded, letting me know that he'd at least try. One of his two prehensile tails wrapped around the foot of the plastic bench while the other straightened. Like with Sunshine and Princess, it wasn't enough, not nearly, but it was a start. So long as I held my promise to try, then he would be at his best, and to be honest, I was doing well and hadn't relapsed. For a while, we talked about him taking a backseat during the Gym battle with Byron, which he took hard. Honey no longer suffered from the self-confidence issues that had plagued him before Sunyshore and his training with Jasmine, but he was still susceptible to feeling like he was being left behind, especially with how he was going to have to take it easy with training regarding his hand. Sometimes, his eyes would glance at my wrist, and I'd feel a slight tug. He was obviously curious about Mimi, but his gentle attitude had me hoping they could connect like the steel type had with Angel and Buddy, even if Mimi's predecessor had caused him to lose his hand.
"I have something I want you to work on when you're better," I said. He eyed me expectantly, leaning to the side and turning slightly. "It's a new project, something that'll help against most opponents and requires a crap ton of control over your electricity? You up for it?"
He nodded, his face eager and showing the first smile I'd seen on him. He flashed his flat teeth and asked me what the idea was, and his grin kept getting wider and wider the more I explained the concept I'd brainstormed. Normally, against Byron, we would have prioritized his magnetic control so he could make full use of the iron-filled arena, including molten metal, if he ever needed to, but given the fact that I'd pivoted off that strategy and he wasn't going to fight, I'd come up with something with more of a general use this past week in anticipation for his return. Eventually, an old couple followed by a Mightyena that looked to be greying asked to sit in our spot, and we of course let them.
"Let's go back home, I have something to show you that'll give you an advantage in your playfighting war with Princess," I grinned. "Want some ice cream?"
We left the bus stop after that and made our way to the stand, where I got him three scoops. Cookies and cream, pistachio and vanilla, and he basically downed them all in a minute. We talked about making our own ice cream one day as we got going back toward the apartment, and I told him about some Gym in Unova where the theme was apparently cooking. Like Cece had told me, they didn't only do battling in that country. One trainer or groups of trainers would have to work together to go through different trials that tested skills outside of battling that a trainer would need, at least according to them, and were run by the Gym Trainers before being given the option to battle the Gym Leader. All of their battles had themes that deviated from the usual six-on-six with three switches I was used to. I hadn't looked them up yet, though. I didn't want to spoil myself the surprise.
Mira and Princess' birthdays had come and gone, and since there had been a one-day delay with Honey's discharge from the Center and Claydol was training the fundamentals of Teleporting with Alakazam, I'd decided to stay another day.
Plus… I needed to tell my Dad about everything, before leaving for Canalave. I had promised myself that— and I owed him that, at least. He deserved to know what his daughter was truly like, and to be honest, I just wanted my Dad to love me for who I was, the good and the bad.
A lot of bad, but not just that. These past few weeks had taught me that there was good in me. That I could be that person who I'd used to be before going on my journey, the girl who had befriended a clique of rich teenagers who soured her on their first meeting and who had gotten Sunshine out of Mount Coronet. I was confident in who I was, now, or at least I was nowhere as lost as I used to be. My second change had shown itself, and I'd made full use of it. Anxiety was starting to bubble up inside of me, and many times, I'd been about to spill out everything. Yesterday, for example, at the end of Mira's party. I'd given her my gift, the newest model of the Poketch laptop, a card with words about how important she and her friendship were to me, and a cute bonnet I thought would go well with her pink hair. She'd cried of joy and called herself undeserving— but that wasn't the point, despite how happy it made me. She'd gone to sleep early because being happy was so unusual for her that it exhausted her, and it had just been me and Dad.
The perfect opportunity to come clean, right there in front of me, and I flubbed it. It made me feel like my time in Eterna City, when I'd struggled to come out to Cecilia as a lesbian for days, except this was a lot more serious and really, not even comparable. It was just… my brain being desperate to find a comparison. Something to latch onto to familiarize myself with the trial I needed to face. It was something I'd done many times, but that I was just catching after Mira had called it out a few days ago. A more apt comparison would be the time I'd come clean to Cece about it, but there was something that felt more final with this than with her. Cecilia had known me, seen me become who I was throughout the months while Dad only got to witness part of that change through text, calls and his television. It would feel a lot more sudden for him than for her, or at least I thought so.
Tiresome. It was so tiresome. It wasn't like revealing the fact that you'd killed several more people than they'd said on TV and one of them excruciatingly slowly shouldn't be difficult, it would be disturbing to be that honest. Like I didn't care.
Honey patted my back with his good hand and asked what I was thinking about, and it made me realize I hadn't exactly told my team about this plan to come clean to my Dad. I waited until we reached an empty part of the street, something only possible because of how early in the morning it was, and I told him about my issues.
"You know, I guess in a way, you're sort of like my Dad," I said before humming as I looked up at him. When he giggled, I rolled my eyes. "Not literally, and you know it. I mean personality-wise."
Both were kind-hearted, disliked needless violence, and even when you honed in on the little quirks of his personality, you could find similarities. He loved pranks, though my Dad was less about physical pranks and more about verbal teasing. He lifted his hand to scratch the back of his head, though his face fell when his fingers didn't move.
That was going to take a little to get used to. He embarrassingly used the other hand as we approached my apartment building.
"If I was revealing this part of me to you, how'd you like me to tell you?" I asked. "Do I just… rip the band-aid off? Say everything right away? Or do I stagger the reveals and see how he reacts to them one by one—"
He interrupted me by saying that the second idea was a terrible idea and that would only make Dad hurt more.
"Yeah… I guess so," I sighed. The door to our apartment clacked open, and he pushed me in first. "How, then?"
He blinked.
"Yeah, I'm serious. This is… tough for me. I'd like to hear what you think about it. I love the others, but they wouldn't get it. Dad still thinks Princess is this harmless kid, you know? It hurts me to think that she'd sour on him if she knew how he would react."
For a few seconds, Honey stayed silent as we waited for the elevator. When it dinged open, he lifted a finger and suggested for me to write him a letter.
"A letter?"
That could… work, though it felt like I was chickening out. With Cecilia, I at least the excuse that we hadn't even been in the same city, so doing it via text was okay, even if I'd wanted to do it through call beforehand. Wouldn't it be weird for him to be right there and reading a letter about how his daughter was a mass murderer?
Electivire said that it would be the easiest on me, and easier on Dad, too, especially if we were in separate rooms. It would leave him time to gather his thoughts and figure how to best approach me afterward. Approach me was an expression that had me shiver. It felt like I was a cornered animal ready to lash out, and in a way, I supposed I was. The electric type noticed my wince and apologized for the expression.
"I get it," I exhaled. "Thanks for the advice, I think a letter will work."
It had to.
We rode the elevator up while Honey tried to flex his fist to distract himself from constantly asking about if I was alright. I could almost guess what was going through his head, the idea that I might leave after leaving the letter to Dad, but I couldn't do that to him. It would be almost cruel. When we got to our apartment, Dad yelled in the living room.
"Grace! Your merchandise came!"
Excitement surged through me, and I was limping toward the living room before I even realized it. It was just so stupid, too. It was like I was latching onto this as an excuse to delay. Mimi hopped off my wrist, having learned that home was safe to show themselves, while Electivire bent down and squeezed through the doorway. He was growing, still, as were most of my teammates, which made me a little self-conscious of my height despite not being short at all, and again, having a bunch of tall friends didn't help. At least Sunshine would be there to echo my complaints. I spared Mimi and Honey a nervous look, but the electric type was already kneeling and letting them climb on their good hand, so I figured their first official meeting was going to go well.
Laid out on the living room table and couch was my merch, and it felt surreal looking at it. One instance of each product, only sent to me before their mass production actually started. How odd would it be, to see my face in stores in a few weeks? To see people wearing all of this on them? Every time, when going out, I noticed at least a few people wearing Craig's or other popular trainers' merch. Hell, I'd even seen a couple wearing Denzel's out and about. Dad grinned at me, beckoning me closer.
"Come take a look," he said. "It must have come last night, but I picked it up earlier this morning when emptying the recycling bin. Figured it might have come, and lo and behold."
"Arceus, this is— this is…"
It was one thing to see the designs online, and another to see them having come to life. I spent around thirty minutes looking them over with Dad, releasing the rest of my team so they could take a look too, save for Claydol who was at Mira's and training.
It was funny, how I missed them and we'd only known each other for so little time and I'd already grown attached. Of course, Sweetheart also stayed in her Pokeball, and I'd have to show her later, but the others seemed to enjoy the merch. Princess liked all the ones with her on it, obviously, while Angel liked the family-themed ones the best, and he would show his favorite ones to Mimi who was sitting on his head. Honey lamented not being able to wear the shirt showing him using Thunder at an undetermined target because of how cool he looked in that pose, pointing forward with a wide grin. Buddy didn't enjoy the fact that people would be wearing him or any of us, though he liked the monetary gain it would bring. He's definitely going to ask for more books, I thought. I really need to get him Extrasensory so he can read without me.
Sunshine was, as usual, pretending to be too cool for any of this, even if I could see him try to smother his proud smile. It wasn't about the merch for him, but about how far we'd come.
"I think I'm gonna take some of these on the road," I told Dad. "You can keep the rest. What if you wear this to work when they make the ones your size?"
I grabbed a t-shirt with myself, Sunshine and Princess on the front. Supposedly the design choice had been to showcase 'opposites' of my team, dragon and fairy. If only they knew how wrong they were, though. Those two were two sides of the same coin.
"I would, no questions asked," he deadpanned. "I need to show the world how much I support my daughter— who's getting into the Conference her first year."
I groaned, my face heating up slightly. "Dad… I was supposed to embarrass you. Plus, you don't want to jinx me. I've heard a whole lot of horror stories about trainers getting stuck on the eighth badge when they had plenty of time to spare, like Sharon. She's a flying type specialist that works with Poketch."
"Oh, I've heard of her. You should know by now that embarrassing me is literally impossible, kiddo" he boasted, ruffling my hair. "But seriously, I don't say it enough. You've done really, really well this year, Grace, even with all of the issues you've had to deal with. No matter what happens, I'm proud of what you've accomplished." He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and side-hugged me. "I always knew you had potential."
I stayed silent, the confidence suddenly sapped out of me. Not this, and not now. My throat felt horribly dry, and I saw Honey shoot me a look out of the corner of my eye. Taking a deep breath, I cleared my throat.
"Yeah, thanks," I weakly said. "Uh, anyway, I was planning on giving one of these shirts to Mira, since she asked. She'll probably swing by tomorrow with Claydol to give them back."
The pounding of my heart against my ribcage relaxed when I saw Honey trying to pull at Mimi with magnetism, something they apparently enjoyed, with the way they squealed. Princess and Sunshine side-eyed them, but otherwise said nothing, because they knew Buddy would have intervened, and he was already looming over them like a hungry Talonflame.
"And I was thinking of sending one of them to Eterna City. I met a fan there that I think would be really happy with this."
Dad raised an eyebrow. "Early access, huh? Fair enough."
"Yeah, I have their number and everything, so it should be easy. Their name is Edith."
I told Dad about my entire adventure through Eterna Forest that he'd somehow missed, and I knew it wasn't for a lack of keeping up with the news. Maybe Edith's group hadn't talked to anyone but a few trainers at the outpost about it.
"Wish I could have gotten another one of these for them, though," I muttered, observing my knife. It felt excellent to grip, even if the blade itself was made of silicone and couldn't cut. The Princess motif on the handle was really cute too, and I handed it to her so she could flaunt it to the others.
"You know, I've never understood what was with you and blades," he said.
"I dunno, I just think they're fun and pretty."
It took another twenty minutes for me to go through everything and retreat back into my room. Honey joined me, knowing what I was about to do, and Buddy did so because he always liked to shadow me. I gently closed the door and sprawled onto my chair with a heavy sigh, searching the desk for a pen. The early sunrays shone through my window, revealing floating dust in my room. Part of me considered delaying until nighttime, but there was just no point in procrastinating about it, was there? Jellicent whispered behind me, asking what I was doing.
"Telling my Dad about the raid," I quickly answered, snatching a pen out of a drawer. Paper… damn it, where was my paper? I looked for it for a few seconds before deciding to just rip an empty page out of my old textbook while Buddy asked me why. "Because we tell the truth instead of avoiding it, now. Or at least we do it when we can, even if lying would be more convenient" I said, gripping my pen. "I have to. I have to do it now, or I'll never do it."
Mira had been correct when talking about the need to tell the others about Galactic, even if she had acted more out of pragmatism than anything else. I had no right to criticize her for it, given the fact that actually committing to telling the truth had been her idea and only hers. It felt good, not to have to hide anymore after months of having had to be someone else in front of them, or hidden meetings, secret group chats, talking about them like they were burdens to be protected instead of actual people with their wants and needs.
It had not been without its consequences, however.
From what I understood, Chase completely disagreed with the entire idea. Not that he was really sticking with them anyway, given that he was mostly doing his own thing in Canalave and wasn't sticking by the group. I doubted that I would be seeing him much other than the first day I arrived, to be honest.
Then, there was the fact that Denzel's first reaction had been anger on Emilia and Pauline's behalf…
Um…
I wasn't sure their entire thing was going to work out any longer. Some rifts couldn't be fully mended.
That was the thing, with Denzel. Helpful, so helpful, but sometimes people other than me felt like he was treating them with kid gloves, even if it came from a good place. He was quite busy taking care of Louis, at the moment, given that he'd taken it the worse and wasn't eating very well and had to put his negotiations to buy land in Floaroma on hold. He no longer even planned to battle Byron. Even Justin was touched by the news. I'd have to do something, when I got there to try to get everyone in order, and unlike Emi and Pauline, I didn't think either of them were planning to help when the time came. I'd convinced the two girls to book a flight to Canalave so I could train them in the kind of fights that were coming.
Denzel was holding down the ship, at the very least, thank the Legendaries. He'd always been there for Louis, whether that was in Hearthome when he was just… drifting and recovering from his heartbreak with Cecilia, or Sunyshore when he was looking for Justin. Without Louis to keep him grounded, Justin was growing more and more distant again. I need to be there for him when no one else was. No, 'was' was wrong. When no one else could be.
Maeve had handled the news surprisingly well. About as good as we had, back when we'd first learned of it, which surprised Cece a decent bit.
I tapped the tip of the paper with the pen, realizing how I was so unused to writing now. It wasn't that I'd forgotten, that was impossible, but after months spent without writing, the hold on my pen felt odd. Unfamiliar. Especially when holding it too tightly still hurt my hands.
Dear Dad. There's a part of me you need to know about, and this is really important.
No, 'dear dad' felt improper. Weird. Like I was writing about some random, everyday occurrence instead of… well, all of this.
Dad, I need to tell you something important about what happened during the raid.
Damn it, that felt wrong too. I didn't want to just fucking jump into things. I scratched the line until it was completely dark and tried again, and this time, though I wasn't fully satisfied with the words, it was something I could work with.
Hi Dad.
I know you're probably wondering what the heck any of this is, but I need to tell you something that's been eating at me for a long time. I just want you to know that these past few days with you have been among the best since I left Sunyshore. I was really down lately and seeing you again has helped immensely with that.
There. I didn't want to beat around the bush, but going straight in felt wrong and would maybe make it harder to swallow. Was it manipulative, that I was trying to fucking sell this to my Dad so he wouldn't look at me like I was some monster? I kept writing, confessing about not only Backlot, but the five associates I'd killed… damn it, after everything, I didn't want to ruin his image of Princess. Five drills to the head, quick and painless, was how I'd dealt with them while I'd delivered the rest to Carnivine. It filled the entire page and the back, by the end of it. Surprisingly, I wasn't crying. Sad, yes, but mostly, it felt like I was destroying a part of me. Again, this felt final, like I was killing the idea of who Dad thought I was. His little girl. Sure, he already knew about one murder, but that had been self-defense, and he hadn't once brought it up, and knowing him, I doubted he thought differently of me for having defended myself at all costs.
This was different. Merciless.
I wanted to tell Mom, but it had to be you first, and I'm not strong enough to tell it to your face. Sorry. I love you.
I looked over my writing one last time and sighed. This was it.
Buddy whispered behind me, asking if I was sure about this, but I just nodded and instead asked him to go get Togekiss so I could ask her if she was alright about this. If she wasn't, then I would amend my story and not specify how the killing was done. It wouldn't be right, just to expose her without even telling her first. Honey opened the door for her, and they filtered in. For a short time, I was terrified Dad would find it suspicious, but realized pretty quickly that me asking for my Pokemon was anything but.
"Sorry to bother you," I said. "Here."
Her eyes glimmered, and the letter gently slid out of my hands. She grimaced, chirping irritatingly at the topic, and when she handed me back the paper, she asked what I wanted.
"Are you okay with this? With being exposed?"
These past few months, I'd wanted Princess to start disagreeing with me when she actually did. To express her own opinions instead of blindly following my own. Her wings shivered as she hovered a few inches above the ground, and after deliberating for a few seconds, she shook her head. She didn't want Dad to think less of her, after all.
I smiled, caressing the bottom of her chin. "Good. I guess I should have asked before writing the letter, huh?"
Honey laughed, which broke the dam of tension that had been building up in the room. After silently writing a second version of the letter and ripping up the other one beyond recognition, I folded the paper four times, sliding it into my pocket, and turned toward my three Pokemon.
"Hey, if it doesn't bother you guys… I need to be alone for this," I said. "I'm gonna recall you. See you on the other side?"
They all agreed, though I could tell Buddy was only doing so because he knew he wouldn't be able to change my mind. I recalled them and left my bedroom. I could see the back of Dad's head as he sat on the couch, and I heard him lazily scratch his stomach as he watched TV as he sipped a cup of coffee. Coffee. I always hated coffee, I told myself. Idle thoughts, to keep me distracted from what was coming. Mimi was still hanging out with Angel, thank the Legendaries. I'd almost been scared that without me there Sunshine would have started up some drama, but he was rather calm and staring at some old pictures of me lying on a wall shelf.
I decided to come up to him first, silently joining his side. "That was a picture of when Dad took me fishing near the lake up north," I quietly said. "I'm pretty sure I cried when we caught our first one, even if Dad said we'd throw them back in the lake. We ended up just hanging out on the boat Dad rented the rest of the afternoon."
Sunshine snorted, asking how old I'd been. He complained that it was difficult, telling how old humans were, and he found it hard to discern seven from twelve-year-olds.
"I was… eight, I think. Maybe seven," I said, touching the picture frame.
The dragon squinted at me, as if he thought I was lying, but then let out a non-committal grunt.
"Hey, I have to recall you for a bit, I need to have an important conversation with Dad," I murmured. "I'll catch you up to speed after?"
Sunshine frowned, but agreed, and melted in a sea of crimson.
"Going somewhere?" Dad asked.
I nearly choked on my own saliva, but managed to pretend I was clearing my throat. "No, just, uh, hold on."
I kept going, recalling Angel who agreed as soon as he looked into my eyes for a moment. I knelt next to Mimi, who was already recoiling at the sight of a Pokeball. The experience as a whole didn't hurt them, and I had no idea what the simulated environment was like for them, but they weren't shy about expressing their displeasure at the device. Tendrils of liquid metal tried pushing my hand away as the steel type protested with a vibrating screech. Displeasure, they lobbed at me, also with grand ideas of betrayal.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry for making you go in. Why don't you head inside my room for a little bit? I think I'll join you soon right after this."
Pleased with themselves, Mimi slithered toward my bedroom, sliding under the wooden door as a puddle of golden and silver metal. So long as their eye could fit somewhere, they could fit through any opening.
"Dad?"
He turned toward me, and he must have seen something on my face, because he instantly had that look he had when he worried. "What's wrong, kiddo? Did something happen?"
"Uh—" my voice quivered. "Yeah. I have something to give you, if that's okay?"
Maybe I should have waited until tomorrow. My brain was screaming at me not to pull the paper out of my pocket, to pivot and twist my words into a half-truth to delay. Instead, I unfolded and handed him the letter.
"When you're done reading it, I'll be in my room."
I'd been tearing up by the end of those words, and I scrambled back to my bedroom, where Mimi was waiting next to my bed and watching the city from the window with a wide and fascinated wobbling eye. I locked the door to my bedroom and slid against the door with a dry sob. It was done. I'd ripped the bandaid off. I clenched my forehead and tried my best not to rock back and forth.
Meltan, having 360-degree vision, must have noticed the shit state I was in, because at some point, they prodded at my leg. I grabbed them in the palm of my hand and sniffled.
"Sorry, it hasn't really been as fun here as I told you it'd be, huh?" I whispered. "There's a lot of stuff going on and… yeah, I'm sorry."
The steel type mewled with something akin to understanding. I laughed— though it was more of a forceful exhale than anything.
"I promise you when everything is dealt with, we'll have a lot more fun, and Sunshine and Princess will warm up to you soon enough," I sighed, pausing. "I just told Dad about some stuff I did before we found you."
Mimi's eye turned to a straight line.
"Different types of murder," I specified. "They deserved it."
I put my head against the door to see if I could hear anything. Curses under his breath, crying, muttering, anything.
There was nothing, and I knew by now he should have finished reading.
"When we get to Canalave, I wanna show you a bunch of stuff," I continued. "You've never seen the ocean before, so I think you'll like it. It stretches on and on, like it's endless. You can't see the Iron Islands from the city, and we won't have time to go there, but—"
I jumped when I heard steps approaching my door. Already? I'd wanted at least two— five minutes to myself, to prepare, to try not to feel like I'd just ruined something great just because of some ego problem about telling the truth, damn it.
"Grace?"
How was his voice? Muffled, so it was hard to tell, but it was steady. Steady in a way that was somewhat forced, which meant he was trying to be strong, stronger than he actually was. He was shaken, but he still wanted to talk things out and make things right.
"Did you read the letter?" I slowly asked, enunciating every word as slowly as I could. Of course, he had fucking read the letter, I knew that already.
"Can I come in?"
"It's locked."
"Can you open the door, then?"
I hesitated, thinking that talking like this through a door might not be so bad. It would be easier for me, at least, but harder for him. I bit my lip. "Just a second, please."
You can do this.
I stood up, placed Mimi on my bed and unlocked the door, after which he opened it immediately. It swung out, away from me, and he had opened it so quickly that it hit his foot and had him wince with a pained groan.
No matter.
I felt so small. My father took a deep breath and stared at me with cloudy eyes, like he was trying to find something. Find me, maybe. To see if the person I'd been the last few months had been real, or just me pretending. He had clearly cried, with how red his eyes were.
"Sit down," he said.
"Dad, I—"
"Sit down, please."
I gulped, my hair stood on end, and all of the sudden, I was a little girl again. I'd always been one, in truth, but the thought of not listening to Dad hadn't even crossed my mind. I'd been an easy teenager to handle, or at least I wanted to believe that. Sure, I had my bratty moments, but at the end of the day, I always listened. I sat down at the edge of my bed, with Mimi anxiously watching between us two, and Dad dragged the chair at my desk and sat to face me.
"I… read what you wrote. Multiple times," he sighed. "Everything you said in it is true, isn't it?"
Was he was trying to give me an out? I didn't think that would be like him, but maybe he just couldn't believe I'd done what I wrote. Either way, I silently nodded. He didn't react much, though I caught his fingers twitching on his lap.
"Why?"
It was a simple question. Why? Because they deserved it. Because they were a waste of oxygen who had organized the torture of thousands of people over the last decade and forced them to fight to the death while they were drugged out of their mind.
"Because if I hadn't, most of them would still be alive," I shakily answered.
"They'd be in prison."
"That's not enough. You— you saw what they did. They caused so much pain and suffering on a scale not before seen in this country since… the war."
"So you think they deserved it," he said.
"Yes. I'm sorry, but yes."
"I think some people deserve bad fates sometimes when I see some things on the news," Dad said. "That does not mean whatever I want should happen to them, but that doesn't even—" he clenched at his shorts. "—that doesn't even matter. You killed people who were defenseless."
My head hung low. "Yes."
He flinched at the ease of that answer, and for a while, we both stayed silent. There was no sound, save for the city life below permeating through my window.
"Listen, Grace. I— I love you, and I'm trying really hard to stay calm here, and I've always known there was something different about you, but you cannot think like this. These people you… killed, they were people. They were conscious, they had lives, families, spouses, children and grandchildren who had nothing to do with all of this, and while I have no doubt they might have no longer desired a relationship with them or wanted to give them a piece of their minds, or just asked why they did what they did. You took that option away from them. Life isn't this simple, Grace," he said, tapping the side of his head with a finger. "One action that's seemingly simple and black and white will have repercussions beyond what you thought of, always. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
My lips thinned. "Yes."
"This is not a good thing, you did. It was not a noble act, or a great sacrifice needing to be taken for the greater good. You cannot be thinking like this."
"I'm sorry. I've gotten— I've gotten better. That's what Aliyah is for."
He frowned at her name, leaning forward. "Did the League make you start thinking like this? Since they're training you?"
"No," I instantly said. "They picked me because of who I am."
Technically not a lie, and it was how ACE Trainers were picked. It was hypocritical of me, after going on my entire monologue about telling the truth earlier today, but there was just no way I was telling Dad about Galactic. Just… no.
"And Aliyah doesn't pressure you?" he asked.
"No, she's been trying to stop me from thinking this way," I said. "Can I… be honest?"
"Please be."
"I think I've gotten a lot better about this, um, you know, holding back and stuff. And I'm sorry to say it like this, but that's what it is. I don't think like normal people, Dad."
None of the Shards did, at this point.
Pain flickered on my father's face. "I know."
"How?"
"The way you killed," he answered as a matter of fact.
Oh. I supposed it really was that simple. Killers did not think like normal people, and I was a killer. I'd murdered people who couldn't fight back.
"You watched someone die for hours."
"I did."
"You—" he stopped himself. "I won't claim to be able to stop you. You're grown up, now. More powerful than a lot of people could ever hope to be," he said. "But this isn't something I will ever approve of and something you need to stop."
"That's what I want. I won't do any of that anymore, Dad. I asked Angel and Honey to help with that, and with Aliyah and my friends, I think I can be good. I hope."
Dad nodded. "Good. Are you sure you want to go to Unova with all of this? It'll only be Cecilia— and I assume all of your friends from the raid knew about this?"
"All of my friends know about it period," I said. "It took a push, but I managed to be honest. And yes. Cece can keep me steady, I think. We can help push each other up."
He wanted to say more, to tell me to stay, because deep down, he did not believe me. Still, he said nothing and instead forced a smile.
"I should have been there more often," he lamented.
"Dad, don't—"
"I should have. I know you. I would have seen the signs, had I been there. Visited you in every city. I fucked up."
"It's not your fault," I sniffled. I wanted to shake him. To tell him that he couldn't blame himself like this. That everything was just out of his hands.
My father just smiled at me sadly, ignoring the sun shining in his green eyes.
"Thank you for being honest with me Grace," Dad said. "I knew there was something you were holding back since you called me after the raid. I called your mother about it, but I thought you'd just leave without saying." He stood up to wrap me in a tight hug, and I felt tears rolling down my cheek. "You're my daughter, and I'll always love you no matter what. I just wish…" he trailed off.
"You can say."
"I know it isn't your fault, but I wish you'd had a normal journey."
"Me too."
I patted him on the back.
"I love you, Dad."
"I love you too, Grace."
Despite everything, he loved me, still. Trust and his image of me had been broken, but he loved me.
Thank you.
—
Mira placed a Pokeball inside of my palm.
"Here's your Claydol," she grinned. "They've got a grasp on the basics and can Teleport a few feet away if they concentrate hard enough. Since it takes too long, it's not usable in battle and they can't Teleport people yet, but if they keep working on it alone, they should progress quickly enough."
"Not in time for the Red Chain," I guessed.
She lost her smile. "No. Real comedian, that Claydol, by the way. When're you naming them? I was expecting you to be calling them Dolly already."
"When they pick," I shrugged. "They've refused everything I've proposed, and trust me, I tried Dolly."
"Arceus, you're so predictable," she chuckled. "How'd your… issue with your Dad go."
"Okay. Part of me hoped it'd be like the others… that he'd bury it and forgive me so long as I didn't do it again." I clipped Claydol's Pokeball to my belt. "He scolded me."
For as long as I could remember, Dad had never yelled at me, but nothing had terrified me more than when he had raised his tone to say 'please' when asking to come into my room.
"I mean, yes."
"I'm getting off easy, in the grand scheme of things," I murmured. "Even if it hurts."
She hugged me. "You're okay."
"Yeah. I am."
"Isn't that a sign of progress, you think?" she asked. "You could have broken down, or run away, or lashed out."
"Trying to make me feel better, are we?"
"I don't want you to leave the city feeling like shit," she snorted as she pulled away. "Even flying wouldn't help with brightening your mood."
"Yeah. Are you sure you don't want to come with me? Princess can fit both of us."
She waved a hand. "Nah, I'm gonna do my own thing. The group's nice, but, uh, the vibes in Canalave seem awful, at the moment, and Chase won't be enough to salvage things. Hell, he's not even in the group. Plus, if anything happens one of my ACEs will Teleport me right away."
"Hmhm."
"So see you later?"
I pulled a folded t-shirt out of my backpack, one of me riding on Angel's head, and handed it to her. I'd asked him earlier today, and he had agreed to hand it over, as friendly as he was.
She squealed, turning a few heads in the middle of the street. We were standing in front of the Pokemon Center closest to my apartment, given that it was the nearest spot I was allowed to take off in.
"Sick! I'm gonna wear this everywhere and be so fucking obnoxious! Thank the Legendaries we're basically the same size."
"Don't give my fans a bad name," I grumbled. "Call it an extra belated birthday gift."
She eyed me like my fans already had a bad name, and they technically did, given the fact that a lot of people found them insufferable online, at least. In real interactions, they tended to be normal. "Thanks, Grace. You stay safe out there, okay? Tell the others I said hi."
"If you ever get lonely or bored, call me. Don't stay in your own little corner when you have people that care about you." I released Princess and got on her back— on my own— and put on my goggles and a jacket. "I'll see you later."
The pink-haired girl nodded.
Odds were, the next time we did see each other, the world would have gone to hell, and the League was already getting ready for it. They had declared the evacuation of Mount Coronet by all trainers this morning and were preventing anyone from going in. Princess surged through the skies, quickly rising above Jubilife's skyline, and started flying out west toward Canalave with Mimi shaking around my wrist.
Jubilife had not given me the satisfying resolution I had wanted, but maybe that was the point. There would be no fitting that last piece of the puzzle. Maybe I'd just constantly be chiseling at a stone, working on myself for as long as I lived.
But at least it was like Mira had said.
I was okay.