The plane touched down in Eterna City.
Steven sat on Metagross's head, working through a warm bread roll, as they made their way toward Celestic Town.
When he arrived and rang the doorbell, nothing happened. He waited. Still nothing.
"Grandma Caroline must be out."
He pushed the door open and walked in. After the past few weeks, it didn't feel much different from arriving home.
He looked through the back window. Cynthia's Pokémon were out in the yard going through their drills. Cynthia herself was nowhere to be seen.
"She's not up yet?"
Lucario glanced over at Steven from across the yard.
It gave a slow, resigned nod.
"I'll get breakfast on for everyone, then."
Steven released his Pokémon and got to work. By the time he was done, the spread on the table sat firmly in the territory between breakfast and lunch.
"Once you've eaten, Aggron — take Larvitar through the basics. Same as you used to do with the younger ones." Steven set a bowl down in front of them both.
"Kao!" Aggron clapped a hand on Larvitar's head and laughed.
Leave it to me.
Aggron had already decided it was quite satisfied with this small green creature, provided it kept its hands off Aggron's ore. Which it appeared to be doing. For now.
Larvitar alternated bites — one mouthful of ore, one mouthful of Rock-type energy cube. One hard, one soft, one mineral, one concentrated. It was, apparently, the ideal combination.
Steven looked at Larvitar's energy and gave a small nod.
There was a stage Larvitar went through after hatching — before it first emerged from underground. Larvitar eggs were buried in the earth, and after breaking out of the shell, a newly hatched Larvitar ate its way upward through the soil layers before it ever saw daylight. That early period built its constitution. This one had clearly come through it well.
Honedge's training was going to require a different approach entirely — it would need conditioning both in raw endurance and in move control. A Honedge's blade was its true body, which meant its potential range of techniques was broader than most Steel-types. There was something almost like the image of a sword-wielder from old stories about it — the weapon and the wielder as one.
Steven pressed a hand each onto Empoleon's head and Lucario's head.
"Both of you — I want Champion-class strength before we're done. Work harder."
"Empo~"
"Lucario!"
Lucario was close. With Aura fully under its command, the gap was narrow. Empoleon still had ground to cover.
"Being Brave doesn't mean you get to slack off. Understood?"
"Empoo..."
Yes, yes...
Empoleon's tone was not especially convincing. Steven looked at it. Then he let out a quiet sigh and turned toward Honedge with a thoughtful expression.
"I was hoping, once you'd pushed your strength further, that Honedge might work with you for a while. You know — as your blade."
"Empo?!"
Empoleon straightened sharply. Its flippers went to its sides. It looked at the empty space where a sword-partner might go.
It tipped its bowl up, finished every last energy cube in one go, and went looking for a training spot.
"Eat first, then rest — then train!" Steven called after it.
He shook his head, smiling, and ran his hand gently along Honedge's ribbon. Whatever else could be said, the ribbon had a remarkably pleasant texture.
"Metagross — keep an eye on everyone, please." Steven lifted Honedge carefully onto Metagross's head. "I trust you most with this."
Metagross was the right choice. If left to its own enthusiasm, Aggron might push Larvitar past what it was ready for. Honedge, attempting moves for the first time, had a genuine chance of knocking itself out. Supervision mattered.
"Metagross!"
Steven headed upstairs.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
From inside the room came a sound that was barely awake.
"Ten...more minutes..."
"Togepi~"
Togepi, somewhere on the bed, was clearly of the same opinion, burrowing deeper.
"Alright, I'll put breakfast on the table for when you're ready, then."
"Mm~"
The voice answered on instinct. Then stopped.
...Wait.
That voice.
Cynthia sat up slowly, blinking.
She rubbed her eyes. Then registered that rubbing her eyes was not going to affect what she had just heard.
Togepi, deprived of its blanket, puffed its cheeks and glared.
"Togepi!"
"Oh — sorry, Togepi, sorry—"
Cynthia tucked the blanket back around it, then lay back down.
Was that a dream? Was she still half-asleep?
She reached out to the nightstand, picked up her phone, and called Steven.
It connected almost immediately.
"Good morning, Cynthia!"
"Where are you?"
"Downstairs," Steven said. "Why?"
"Okay."
She hung up.
Steven stood in the kitchen, spatula in hand, staring at his Pokégear.
Since the calls had stopped going through, Cynthia hadn't slept properly. She had stayed awake until his message came through in the early hours, and even after reading it, sleep had taken a long time to find her. She'd been too restless from the missed night before — and had spent part of the previous evening dragging her Pokémon out for a late training session rather than lying in the dark doing nothing.
That was why she hadn't surfaced yet.
Now, she threw back the covers and was out of the room at speed.
"Togepi..."
Togepi quietly pulled the blanket back over itself.
It glanced at Garchomp, who was still lying flat on the carpet.
Garchomp would normally have had opinions about this. Strong ones.
Today it had nothing to say.
"I'm tired," Garchomp said, to the ceiling. "I'm not moving."
Out of sight, out of mind.
Cynthia came down the stairs at a pace that didn't leave room for her to have washed her face.
Steven looked up from the stove.
"You're up early," he said, glancing toward where his wrist would be if he wore a watch. "It's been less than ten minutes."
Cynthia always slept exactly as long as she said she would. She was someone who liked sleep, but was never actually late for anything. He had been about to say something about that.
He didn't get the chance.
Cynthia crossed the kitchen at the approximate speed of a Giga Impact and hit him from the side.
"Wait — wait—!"
Bang.
They went down together. Steven hit the floor, held the spatula up out of instinct to keep it clear, and found himself with a golden-haired girl in grey pajamas pressed against his chest, arms locked around him, saying nothing at all.
He thought he might have heard something from his lower back. He chose not to think about it.
He lowered the spatula.
He reached up and ran a hand gently through her hair.
"Alright," he said, quietly. "I'm back. I'm fine. Nothing happened to me."
He paused.
"The Pokégear had no signal in that forest. I couldn't reply. There was nothing I could do about it from there."
Another pause.
"Also — you're getting your pajamas dirty."
The girl in his arms went still. Her cheeks puffed out slightly.
"Then you can wash them."