Sleep wouldn't come.
Sasuke had been lying in bed for two hours, listening to Victini's soft snoring from the couch and watching moonlight shift across the ceiling as the ship moved through the waves. His mind refused to settle, replaying the dinner conversation and analyzing every interaction for meaning that probably wasn't there.
Finally, at what his phone informed him was two in the morning, he gave up. He pulled on a jacket over his sleep shirt and pants, slipped his feet into shoes, and quietly left the cabin. Victini didn't wake, the Victory Pokemon could sleep through anything when sufficiently exhausted.
The ship's corridors were nearly empty at this hour. A few crew members moved through on night duties, nodding politely as they passed. The ambient lighting had dimmed to preserve passengers' sleep cycles, creating pools of shadow between illuminated sections. Sasuke's footsteps sounded too loud in the quiet.
He made his way to the observation deck on the ship's highest level, an outdoor space with benches and protective railings, designed for passengers who wanted unobstructed views of the sky and ocean. The night air hit him as he pushed through the door, cold enough to make him grateful for the jacket. Stars stretched overhead in impossible numbers, unobstructed by city lights or clouds. The moon hung just above the horizon, nearly full and bright enough to cast silver light across the dark water.
Sasuke expected to be alone up here. Instead, he found Miyuki.
She stood at the forward railing, hands gripped on the metal bar, face tilted toward the sky. Silver hair caught the moonlight and seemed to glow with its own luminescence. She'd changed from her dinner clothes into something more casual, dark pants and an oversized cream-colored sweater that made her look smaller and younger than nineteen.
He almost turned around. This felt like an intrusion on private time, and she clearly wanted solitude or she wouldn't be up here in the middle of the night.
But she'd already noticed him. Her golden eyes tracked his movement, and she smiled slightly, permission to stay.
"Can't sleep either?" she asked as he approached.
"Too much thinking."
"Same." She returned her attention to the stars. "I've been up here for about an hour. Just watching the sky and trying to quiet my mind."
Sasuke moved to stand beside her at the railing, maintaining respectful distance. The ocean stretched in every direction, dark and vast and somehow peaceful despite its size. The ship cut through the water smoothly, wake trailing behind in phosphorescent lines.
"It's beautiful," he said.
"It is. I don't get to see stars like this in the city. Too much light pollution." Miyuki pointed upward. "That's the Dragonite constellation. And there's Lugia's Wing. My mother taught me the patterns when I was young. Said trainers used to navigate by stars before modern technology."
Sasuke followed her pointing and picked out the constellations. He'd learned them too during Crown Tundra training, Father had insisted on navigation skills that didn't rely on devices that could break or lose power.
"Your mother sounds like a good teacher."
"She is. Very patient, very thorough. Sometimes too thorough, she has trouble accepting when I've learned something well enough and keeps drilling it." Miyuki's smile turned rueful. "I think she worries I won't be prepared for challenges ahead."
"All parents worry about that."
"Yours too?"
Sasuke thought about Mikoto's careful instructions before departure, Fugaku's emphasis on strategic thinking, Itachi's warnings about the Aether Foundation. "Yeah. Though they hide it differently. Mother stays calm and gives practical advice. Father provides tools and trusts you to use them correctly. Itachi just tells you everything that might go wrong and expects you to plan accordingly."
Miyuki laughed quietly. "That sounds like Itachi. I met him twice at League functions. He has this way of being simultaneously encouraging and intimidating."
"That's accurate."
They fell into comfortable silence. Sasuke found himself relaxing in a way he hadn't since boarding the ship. Something about the darkness and the stars and the late hour made conversation easier, less pressure to maintain appearances or navigate social expectations.
"Can I tell you something?" Miyuki asked after several minutes.
"Of course."
She took a breath. "I'm worried about keeping up with you. With your strength and your team. You have ten Pokemon including multiple Legendaries that could probably defeat entire gym teams on their own. I have one Pokemon right now, Shaymin. And while she's wonderful and we have a strong bond, I'm not at your level. Not even close."
The admission carried weight, vulnerability that Sasuke recognized because he'd felt it himself standing in Itachi's shadow. "We have different specializations and different goals."
"I know that logically. But emotionally..." She gripped the railing tighter. "What if I become a burden? Someone you have to protect constantly instead of a genuine companion? My grandmother was one of the strongest trainers of her generation. My mother was a skilled battler who could hold her own in any fight. And I'm the girl who gets anxious about not being strong enough."
"Strength takes different forms," Sasuke said, echoing what multiple people had told him recently. "You discovered a new evolutionary path. That's a type of strength most trainers never achieve regardless of their battle records. And your medical expertise saved Pokemon lives at the Saffron Center. That matters more than winning fights."
"But on this journey, we'll face challenges that require battle strength."
"And we'll face challenges that require medical knowledge or breeding expertise or just someone who can stay calm under pressure." He turned to look at her directly. "I'm not looking for another battler to travel with. I need people who complement my skills instead of duplicating them. Your knowledge fills gaps in areas where I'm weak."
Miyuki met his eyes. Moonlight reflected in her golden irises. "You really believe that?"
"Yes. And for what it's worth, I'm worried about keeping up with you in other ways. You know how to talk to people naturally. How to build rapport without it feeling forced. I've spent three years mostly isolated with just my Pokemon and my father. Social interaction is harder for me than fighting Legendary Pokemon."
That startled a genuine laugh out of her. "You're comparing social anxiety to battling Legendaries?"
"For me, they're equivalent challenges."
"That's..." She shook her head, still smiling. "That's actually kind of reassuring. We're both worried about different inadequacies."
"Which probably means we balance each other reasonably well."
"Probably." Her expression softened. "I'm glad it's you I'm traveling with. You and Kasumi and Kiyomi. But especially you. You make me feel safe in a way I haven't felt since my mother stopped traveling with me."
The words settled over Sasuke like something physical. He wasn't sure how to respond to that kind of trust, especially from someone he'd only just started getting to know again.
"I'll do my best to deserve that," he said finally.
"You already do."
Miyuki's hand rested on the railing close to his. Not touching, but close enough that Sasuke was hyperaware of the distance. Three inches. Maybe four. If he shifted his hand slightly...
The observation deck door banged open with a crash that shattered the intimate moment. Both of them jumped and turned to find Kasumi standing in the doorway, arms loaded with what appeared to be half the ship's kitchen inventory.
"Oh good, you're both here!" She beamed at them, apparently oblivious to or ignoring the atmosphere she'd just disrupted. "I couldn't sleep, went to raid the kitchen, and figured I couldn't be the only one awake. The night crew was very accommodating about letting me take snacks."
She crossed to where they stood and began unloading her haul onto a nearby bench, packages of cookies, several pieces of fruit, two different types of pastries, a thermos of what smelled like hot chocolate, and a container of mixed berries.
"I wasn't sure what anyone would want, so I grabbed variety," Kasumi explained. "Also I may have misjudged portions. This is enough food for like eight people."
Miyuki had stepped back from the railing during Kasumi's arrival, putting more distance between herself and Sasuke. Her expression had shifted back to composed friendliness, the moment of vulnerability carefully tucked away.
"Hot chocolate sounds good," Miyuki said, moving toward the bench. "It's cold up here."
"Right?" Kasumi poured the hot chocolate into three cups she'd also somehow acquired. "I did not dress appropriately for outdoor activities at two in the morning. But once I was committed to the snack raid, turning back seemed cowardly."
She handed cups to both of them and claimed the bench for herself, patting the spaces on either side. "Sit. Drink. Tell me why we're all awake when rational people are sleeping."
Sasuke and Miyuki exchanged a glance, silent communication about whether to share their earlier conversation. Miyuki gave a small shrug that he interpreted as "your choice."
"Too much thinking," he said, sitting on Kasumi's left while Miyuki took her right. "Mind wouldn't quiet down."
"Same," Miyuki added. "Sometimes the brain just refuses to cooperate with sleep schedules."
"I get that." Kasumi took a long drink of hot chocolate and then reached for the cookies. "I've been lying in bed for hours going over Contest routines in my head. My first official Contest is in Cerulean City, three weeks from now. And I keep thinking about everything that could go wrong."
"What could go wrong?" Sasuke asked.
"So many things." Kasumi counted on her fingers. "I could freeze up on stage. My Pokemon could have an off day. The judges might not like my style. Other Coordinators could be significantly better. My Appeal combinations might not work the way they do in practice. I could trip and fall in front of thousands of people. The list goes on."
"Those are all possibilities," Miyuki acknowledged. "But you've been training for years. You spent a full year in Lilycove learning from masters. Your skill level is solid."
"Skill and performance aren't always the same thing. I've seen incredibly talented Coordinators fail contests because they got nervous." Kasumi bit into a cookie. "And this matters so much to me. If I fail, it validates everyone who said Contest coordination isn't a real competitive field."
"One contest doesn't define your entire career," Sasuke pointed out.
"No, but first impressions matter. Especially when you're trying to prove something." She offered the cookie package to both of them. "Sorry, I'm being anxious. That's why I needed snacks, stress eating is a time-honored tradition."
Sasuke took a cookie more to be polite than because he was hungry. "If you want help training for the Contest, I can assist. My battle expertise translates to understanding Pokemon performance under pressure. And Victini loves performing for audiences, probably picked that up from my sister's Latias."
Kasumi's entire face lit up. "Really? You'd help me train? Even though Contests aren't your thing?"
"They're not my specialty, but I understand enough about showcasing Pokemon abilities. And you said you need to prove Contests require real skill, having a strong battler help with training demonstrates that crossover."
"That's..." She set down her hot chocolate carefully, as if sudden movement might make the offer disappear. "That's actually incredibly helpful. Thank you. Seriously, thank you."
"It's practical cooperation. You'll probably end up helping me with something eventually."
"Still counts as nice." Kasumi grabbed a pastry and took an aggressive bite. "Okay, stress levels decreasing. Snacks and promises of training assistance are effective anxiety management."
"Add that to your list of coping mechanisms," Miyuki suggested.
"Aggressively befriend strong trainers at two in the morning while wielding baked goods. Got it."
They laughed, quiet sounds that wouldn't carry to the cabins below but felt louder in the empty night. Sasuke found himself relaxing further. The awkwardness he'd felt at dinner had faded entirely, replaced by something more genuine.
The observation deck door opened again, and Kiyomi appeared. Unlike Kasumi's energetic entrance, she moved quietly, taking in the scene with raised eyebrows.
"I heard laughing from my cabin," she said. "Which is impressive given how well-insulated these walls are supposed to be. Decided to investigate." She approached the bench and examined the spread of snacks. "You started a party without me. I'm offended."
"It's not a party, it's anxiety management through carbohydrates," Kasumi explained.
"That's just a party with extra steps." Kiyomi claimed a piece of fruit and leaned against the railing facing them. She'd dressed in black leggings and an oversized hoodie, auburn hair pulled into a messy bun. "So what are we anxious about? I want to contribute to the collective neurosis."
"Kasumi's worried about her Contest," Miyuki supplied. "I'm worried about not being strong enough. Sasuke's worried about... actually, what are you worried about?"
All three women looked at him expectantly. Sasuke considered deflecting but decided vulnerability had gotten Miyuki somewhere earlier. "Failing to live up to expectations. Proving that three years of brutal training was enough to make me more than just 'the Champion's little brother.'"
"That's a good anxiety," Kiyomi said. "Very relatable. I have a similar one about stepping out of my mother's research shadow. She's published like forty papers. I have three."
"Quality over quantity," Miyuki offered.
"True, but academia loves numbers." Kiyomi bit into her apple. "My mother also never got death threats from angry historians who thought her research challenged established theories. I've gotten two so far. That's a record I didn't want to set."
"Death threats?" Sasuke sat up straighter. "Over archaeology?"
"People get weirdly protective about historical narratives. Especially when you suggest ancient civilizations were more advanced than currently believed." Kiyomi waved dismissively. "They were just strongly worded letters from academics who disagreed with my methodology. Nothing actually dangerous."
"Still concerning," Miyuki said.
"Eh it's fine. Comes with the territory of challenging consensus." Kiyomi finished her apple and grabbed a pastry. "Though I admit it's nice to be traveling with someone who has ten powerful Pokemon. Makes potential threats less threatening."
"Using me as security," Sasuke observed.
"Among other things. You're also potentially useful for accessing dangerous ruins that require someone who can fight off territorial Pokemon." She grinned. "Multifunctional traveling companion."
"I feel so valued."
"You should. I'm very selective about who I deem useful."
Kasumi had been watching their exchange with obvious amusement. "I love how we're all just openly admitting we're using each other strategically while also becoming actual friends. It's refreshingly honest."
"Better than pretending we don't have practical reasons for traveling together," Miyuki said. "Though I do hope the friendship part becomes genuine and not just strategic."
"It already feels genuine," Kasumi said immediately. "At least to me. I like you all. Even Kiyomi despite her claiming she only values me for my berry cultivation expertise."
"I never said that was the only reason," Kiyomi protested. "Your enthusiasm is also valuable. Keeps the group energy positive."
"See? Using each other." But Kasumi was smiling.
They fell into comfortable conversation after that, topics flowing naturally from Contest strategies to archaeological findings to breeding techniques to random observations about other ship passengers they'd encountered. Sasuke contributed where relevant but mostly listened, learning their speech patterns and the dynamics between them.
Miyuki spoke carefully, weighing words before saying them. Kasumi jumped between topics with enthusiasm that sometimes left others playing catch-up. Kiyomi made observations that were either insightful or deliberately provocative, often both simultaneously. Together they created a balance, thoughtfulness, energy, and sharp analysis combining into something that worked.
The sky began lightening toward the east, deep black fading to dark blue and then gradual purple. Dawn was maybe an hour away.
"We should watch the sunrise," Kasumi said suddenly. "We're already here, might as well commit to staying awake."
"I have to be up in three hours anyway," Kiyomi said. "Sleep at this point would just make me groggier."
"I'm already committed to functioning on no sleep," Miyuki agreed.
Sasuke nodded. "Sunrise sounds good."
They rearranged themselves at the railing, this time all four standing in a row facing east where the sun would eventually appear. The snacks had been mostly consumed, the hot chocolate thermos emptied. Sasuke's exhaustion had transformed into something more pleasant, the slightly fuzzy state where everything felt more significant than it probably was.
"This is nice," Kasumi said quietly. "All of us together like this. It feels right."
"It does," Miyuki agreed. "I wasn't sure it would. We're very different people with different backgrounds and goals. But somehow..."
"It works," Kiyomi finished. "The differences complement instead of conflict. At least so far. Ask me again after we've been traveling for three months and someone's annoying habits have gotten under everyone's skin."
"Optimistic as always," Sasuke observed.
"Realistic. But for now, it does work." She glanced at him sideways. "You surprised me. I expected you to be more closed off based on Itachi's description. But you're actually pretty open once you're comfortable."
"It's the late hour. Lowers inhibitions."
"I'll take it regardless of cause."
The sky continued brightening. Stars faded as ambient light increased. The ocean transformed from black to deep blue to something approaching turquoise near the horizon. Clouds caught early light and turned pink and gold.
"There," Miyuki said softly as the first sliver of sun appeared on the horizon.
They watched in silence as the sun climbed slowly above the water line. The light strengthened, washing away the last of the night and beginning a new day. Symbolic, maybe. But standing there with three people he was just beginning to know, watching dawn break over the ocean while the ship carried them toward unknown futures, it felt significant regardless of whether it should.
"New beginnings," Kasumi said, echoing his thoughts. "For all of us."
"To new beginnings," Kiyomi agreed, raising an imaginary glass.
They stood at the railing until the sun had fully cleared the horizon and morning light had transformed the observation deck from a night space to a day space. Other passengers would begin appearing soon, starting their daily routines. The four of them would need to return to their cabins, get actual sleep or at least pretend to rest.
But for now, they remained together, four people who'd started this journey as near-strangers and were slowly becoming something more. Not quite friends yet, not after less than a day together. But the foundation was there. The potential.
"We should make this our thing," Kasumi suggested. "Meeting up late at night when we can't sleep or need to talk. Just the four of us."
"Moonlit conversations as a regular occurrence?" Kiyomi asked.
"Why not? Everyone needs a safe space to be anxious or vulnerable or just honest without worrying about maintaining appearances."
"I like that idea," Miyuki said. She looked at Sasuke. "What do you think?"
He thought about his initial reluctance to travel with companions. About his preference for solitude and self-sufficiency. About Itachi's warning that bonds would matter more than strength at the top.
"I think it's a good idea," he said. "We're going to be together for at least a year. Having a space for honest conversation seems valuable."
"Then it's decided." Kasumi looked pleased with herself. "The Moonlit Conversation Club is officially established. Membership: four. Meeting time: whenever anyone can't sleep or needs to talk. Dress code: casual. Snacks: encouraged."
"You can't just name our informal gathering," Kiyomi protested.
"I absolutely can and did. It's too late, the name is established."
"I refuse to call it that."
"You'll come around eventually."
Miyuki laughed quietly. "We should get back to our cabins before the ship wakes up fully. I at least want to attempt a short nap before breakfast."
They gathered the remains of their snack raid and made their way back inside. The corridors were still mostly empty, but a few early-rising passengers had begun moving around. They split off at the cabin junction with quiet goodbyes, each disappearing into their respective rooms.
Sasuke entered his cabin to find Victini still asleep on the couch, completely undisturbed by his absence. He stripped off his jacket and shoes and collapsed into bed without bothering to change. Exhaustion finally caught up to him now that the night's conversations had ended.
His last thought before sleep took him was that maybe, possibly, traveling with companions wouldn't be as difficult as he'd feared.