By evening, Grandma Caroline — who had gone out for a walk — finally returned.
She made her way to the backyard, hands clasped behind her back, and looked around.
Only Steven was there, sitting on the grass.
The Pokémon belonging to both Steven and Cynthia were scattered across the yard, resting on the ground with the quiet, worn-out air of a team that had been put through its paces. Since Cynthia had fallen asleep from exhaustion, Steven had taken over the training session himself. It was sparring practice, so Cynthia's Pokémon had cooperated — more or less. Any other kind of training and Steven might have had a harder time getting them to listen. Garchomp and Lucario, in particular, were not the type to take direction from someone who wasn't their Trainer.
Honedge and Togepi were the exceptions. Those two were still happily playing, completely unbothered.
"Steven — where's my Cynthia?" Grandma Caroline leaned against the doorframe and asked, scanning the yard.
"You're back." Steven turned and gave a small laugh. "Cynthia was a bit tired. She's asleep upstairs."
Tired?
Grandma Caroline thought it over. Cynthia had been pushing herself hard in her training lately, but not so hard that she'd collapse after dinner. That wasn't like her.
"When did she fall asleep?"
"Not long after dinner, I think." Steven considered for a moment and gave an approximate time.
Grandma Caroline went still.
That was right after she had gone out for her walk.
So after that hug in the backyard, they had...
"Ah — Grandma, Cynthia overdid it on her first Mega Evolution. That's why she was so worn out. There's nothing more to it."
Steven had clearly picked up on the shift in her expression and moved quickly to explain.
"Mega Evolution makes you tired?"
Grandma Caroline's expertise was in theology and archaeology. Professor Sycamore's research on Mega Evolution hadn't been published yet, so it was entirely reasonable that she hadn't come across the concept before.
"That's what happened." Steven walked her through the whole situation carefully.
"You had just stepped out when it happened, Grandma."
"That's still your fault," she said flatly.
Steven: π_π
Grandma Caroline turned and went back inside, quietly letting out a breath as she went.
She had been thinking her granddaughter's romantic life was making some real progress. For a moment there, she had almost thought it was moving along at quite a pace.
It was a relief it had turned out to be nothing of the sort.
Young people. Better to take these things slowly.
"Mmm..."
Cynthia stirred on the soft cream-colored bed, her eyes blinking open against the dim ceiling. She sat up slowly, running a hand through her loose, tangled hair.
"How did I fall asleep?"
She looked around the bed — and there it was. The little silver-blue-haired doll, lying beside her. When she sat up, the blanket had shifted and half-uncovered it.
"I'm sure I had it tucked under the covers..."
Then the events of the afternoon came back to her all at once.
Mega Evolution. The rush of excitement afterward — throwing her arms around Steven without thinking. Steven carrying her back upstairs...
"He saw it." Cynthia pulled the doll close, her expression flustered.
She stared at it for a moment.
"No — it's so badly made, he'd never think it was supposed to be him!"
She kept reassuring herself, and on that note, went downstairs.
Steven had tied on an apron and was just starting to prepare dinner. He looked over as Cynthia came down the stairs, still muttering quietly to herself.
"Cynthia — did you get some rest?"
"Ah — huh?"
She startled, looked up at Steven, and forgot what she was going to say.
Then she noticed the slight curve at the corner of his mouth, and quietly answered, "It's... it's fine."
"Good. Go sit in the living room for a bit — dinner will be ready soon." He turned back to the stove with a soft laugh.
"...Okay."
Cynthia slipped past the kitchen and into the living room.
"Cynthia, what's the matter with you? Your face is all red."
"Huh?"
Cynthia stopped and pressed a hand to her cheek.
It was warm.
"Red as the flame on a Chimchar's tail," Grandma Caroline said with a grin.
"Grandma!"
"Alright, alright, I'll leave it alone."
At dinner, Cynthia sat picking at her food in a daze, like a Porygon running a glitched program. Grandma Caroline gave Steven a quiet nudge with her elbow and a meaningful look.
Steven took the hint.
"Cynthia."
"Hmm? What?" She looked up, snapping back to the present.
"There's a festival in Eterna City tomorrow. Would you want to come with me?"
"Ah... I..."
"My Cynthia has the Lily of the Valley Conference to prepare for — she doesn't have time to be wandering around a festival," Grandma Caroline cut in smoothly, smiling to herself.
Wait.
With... him... together?
"I want to go!"
Grandma Caroline glanced over at Steven with an expression that said, plainly: I knew it.
Steven laughed quietly. At least the table had come back to life.
"You can't train every waking moment. It's good to step away sometimes."
"Right, yes, absolutely!" Cynthia nodded with rather more enthusiasm than she had intended.
"I'm getting on in years — I'll leave the adventures to you young ones." Grandma Caroline shook her head with a fond smile.
"Don't say that, Grandma. You're perfectly healthy." Cynthia set down her chopsticks and reached over to hold her grandmother's hand.
Grandma Caroline looked at the bright, eager girl in front of her — and for a moment, she saw the little golden-haired child she remembered from years ago. She leaned in and whispered close to Cynthia's ear:
"If I come along, won't I just be a third wheel?"
Cynthia's hand went still. The color rose in her face almost instantly.
"Grandma, what are you saying!"
"Am I wrong?" Grandma Caroline said pleasantly.
A grown girl can't be kept at home forever!
Steven watched Cynthia, now fully animated again, and smiled to himself — though he had no idea what had caused the shift. Whatever it was, she seemed to have set it aside. If she wanted to talk about it, she would. No need for him to ask the wrong questions.
Cynthia stole glances at Steven throughout the rest of the meal.
But his expression was calm and warm, the same quiet smile as always.
He didn't seem to have noticed anything.
She breathed a small, quiet sigh of relief.
She still couldn't quite work out how Steven felt. His warmth toward her — it could be explained as lingering guilt from when they were children. And the way he treated her never seemed to cross any line. They were close, certainly. More than acquaintances. But not quite something more.
Somewhere in between.
Even today, when she had fainted from exhaustion, he hadn't done anything improper. When he had picked her up, his hold had been careful and steady — nothing more. When she had clung to his neck, half-conscious and not ready to let go, he had simply kept his distance and waited. In the end, she had fallen asleep on her own.
She was afraid to push things. Whatever this was between them had been built carefully, slowly, and she didn't want to be the one to break it. In a battle, she could read an opponent — she could make sense of a Miracle Eye, piece together a strategy from a handful of clues. But this wasn't a battle.
She didn't know the rules here.
That night, Cynthia lay in the dark, gray eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.
She turned over. Turned back. Sleep wouldn't come — whether from the long nap in the afternoon or from the thoughts that wouldn't leave her alone, she couldn't say.
She reached over and grabbed the doll beside her, holding it up in front of her face.
"What are you thinking?" she muttered, fixing it with a stern look. "Just tell me already."
The doll had no answer.
"Kaaao~"
Garchomp shifted on the carpet, rolled over, and went back to sleep without opening its eyes.
Cynthia glanced at it, then pressed her lips together and went quiet.
She took the doll's small hands in hers and held it up above her.
Her lips moved — barely a breath of sound, if any at all.
Just tell me.