"Thank you, Uncle Giovanni. I learned a lot these past few days." Reika bowed.
The man in front of her was thin, dressed in a brown suit. A Beedrill hovered at his shoulder.
"So it's time to part ways?" Giovanni asked.
"Yes. I'd love to keep studying under you, but I can't stay in one place forever. And I've imposed on you long enough."
She straightened up as she said it, her expression serious.
"Is that so. A shame."
He didn't try to talk her out of it. He simply watched her go.
Then he turned and walked into the Gym, into the dark.
"Get the Beedrill over to Seiya in the next day or two."
"After that, have Issei contact me."
He tossed the Beedrill's Poké Ball back into the darkness behind him and kept walking, farther and farther, until only the Beedrill was left, wings buzzing in place.
......
Outside Greenlight City.
Akiyama stopped and looked up at the skyline, and a wave of pure exhaustion rolled over him.
March twenty-seventh. They'd finally made it.
The instant he stopped walking, the Gengar hanging off his backpack strap jolted awake, and the sleep bubble at the corner of his mouth popped.
He blinked, still half under, and then his eyes found the towers ahead of them.
That did it. He was wide awake and drifting off toward the city.
Nanami stretched, hopped down from Gyarados's head, and recalled him.
"Come on. I'm getting a nap at the Pokémon Center."
Some Pokémon had gotten rowdy in the middle of the night and she hadn't slept worth anything. The noise had died down fast enough.
But by then she'd already woken up angry, which meant taking Gyarados out for a couple of shots at nothing in particular before she felt right again.
Akiyama had no intention of resting. He wanted to clean up and go straight for the Gym.
Beside him, Gardevoir was practically vibrating. She had a strange, single-minded thing about badges.
The Pokémon Center wasn't far. They drew plenty of looks on the way there, though most of the people on the street were more interested in a certain purple flower.
Akiyama found it odd enough that he wanted to ask someone about it.
Nanami grabbed his sleeve and refused to let him.
"You're telling me you're socially anxious." He stared at her like she'd sprouted a second head.
"What did you think?" She kept her eyes on the sidewalk and kept walking.
"I figured 'socially dangerous.'"
"Don't make me say something I'll regret."
"Sure, sure."
The problem with Akiyama was that arguing with him accomplished nothing at all. Before she could come up with anything better, they'd arrived.
"Nick Ferry Lines has issued an official statement regarding last week's sinking—"
The television hanging in the middle of the lobby was running the news as they walked in.
Gengar didn't care about any of that. He floated over to a young Trainer eating at one of the tables and pulled a face that nearly put the kid on the floor.
Akiyama and Nanami both looked up at the same time.
On screen, an old man in an immaculate suit stood in front of the cameras with grief written all over him.
"We are deeply sorry to have failed the trust of our passengers. On behalf of everyone at Nick Ferry Lines, I offer our sincerest apologies."
"In addition, every injured passenger will receive compensation in the amount of five hundred thousand League Coins."
Ding.
Nanami's phone went off in her pocket. She actually took it out, which she almost never did.
Deposit notification.
"That was quick." She glanced up. "What about yours? Nothing yet?"
"That's too small an amount to trigger a text. Not worth flagging." Akiyama shrugged and headed for the self-service key machine.
Compared to the Pokémon Center out in the smaller towns, this place was all automation and clean glass. Set the two side by side and you'd swear a century separated them.
"Rich people should be illegal." Nanami's teeth ground together.
Suddenly five hundred thousand felt like an insult.
She tuned out the strangers arguing about the news and walked over to the machines too.
Akiyama's key card had already popped out.
He turned around and said, offhand, "The Miki family isn't exactly a corner shop."
"Yeah, but I've got a hundred cousins." Nanami sighed. "Want to trade? Maybe your dad picked up the wrong baby at the hospital."
"Not even in the next life." He took Gardevoir's hand and left without looking back.
Gengar came drifting cheerfully after them and latched onto the strap again.
Whatever else he had to say about his life, Akiyama had no complaints about his old lady. One kid, one enormous family business, and someday all of it landing on him.
Which, now that he thought about it, mostly sounded like a mountain of paperwork.
Ugh. He'd be buried alive.
Behind him, Nanami could apparently read exactly what he was thinking, and it soured her mouth. Then she followed him anyway, because what else was there to do.
Inside the room, Akiyama bolted the door and dropped his backpack on the couch.
Everything was new to Gengar. He floated up to poke at an unlit bulb, got no reaction out of it, and went for the balcony instead, plastering himself flat against the glass until he looked like a compressed rug.
Since he was clearly having a fine time, Akiyama left him to it and went to shower.
"Want to go together?" he asked Gardevoir.
She shook her head. "Garde, garde."
She'd rather rest a bit first.
He didn't think twice about it. He pulled off his shirt and went in, and before long the glass fogged over.
The sound of running water brought Gengar down off the window. He floated to the bathroom and passed straight through the door.
He hung there in the steam, then puffed out a huge cloud of soap bubbles.
"Knock it off, I'm washing." Akiyama patted his head with one soapy hand and went back to scrubbing.
Gengar thought this looked fun, so he grabbed the washcloth and started doing Akiyama's back.
He was startlingly good at it. The kid could have made a living at a bathhouse.
Out in the room, Gardevoir took a clean tea set down from the cabinet, boiled water, and got out the leaves. In her hands the simple tools turned into something like a performance, and within minutes the whole room smelled faintly, cleanly sweet.
Brewing tea was required study for any Gardevoir raised as a Miki Gift.
While she waited, she leaned back against the couch with a cup pinched between her fingers, took the smallest sip, and closed her eyes to taste it properly.
At the same time, she was already working out how she was going to win Akiyama that badge this afternoon.
He came out soon after in a pair of long shorts, toweling his hair, with Gengar trailing him and clearly nowhere near done playing. Tiny body, enormous energy reserves.
"Your turn, Gardevoir."
She stood, crossed the room, used the height difference to take the towel out of his hands, and started drying his hair for him.
"Garde…"
She wasn't in a hurry. But if his hair stayed damp he'd catch cold, and Miki Gift Pokémon and their Trainers ran a little fragile compared to whatever monsters the newer generation was producing.
"Oh—I forgot you can do this." Akiyama's nose twitched and he looked over at the tea set on the table, steam rising off it.
"Garde-na."
The corner of her mouth tilted up, just a little smug. There'd never been the equipment for it before. This Pokémon Center happened to stock everything.
She could do a lot of things, thank you very much.
Gengar zipped over to the table and took a sip, and immediately his tongue was out, being frantically fanned.