ACL: 26. I spin stories, not webs. (Patreon)

Chapter 26: I spin stories, not webs.

Amy Dallon

I, technically, had a boyfriend. One who cared for me in his own, infuriating way. He was kind, funny, though I’d die before I admitted that to him, and truly heroic in ways I wasn’t. He never seemed to tire or grow impatient with the people demanding his time. He never got sick of the patients at the hospital or the kids who wanted autographs. He was strong, quirky, brave, honest, loyal, and… and a better person than me.

It was like he was a storybook hero from a Saturday morning cartoon, the kind that always ended with the good guys coming out on top.

And he was trying to make me start a drug empire.

I grumbled under my breath as I stared at the tiny little bonsai tree sitting on my windowsill. It looked nothing like the tree I’d seen Blake literally eat like a corndog.

I’d had to disguise it somewhat. Not because I realistically thought mom would recognize a tree that didn’t actually exist in this world, but for my own peace of mind. The tree didn’t have a berry; I thought the big, blue fruit would be a bit too eye-catching. Instead, I’d left little nutritional deposits beneath the roots that I could quickly repurpose to make the tree grow a berry anytime I wanted.

It was the most I’d ever done with my power besides healing. And it felt amazing. It almost felt as though my power was alive, responding to the slightest nudge of my intent with a wholehearted eagerness that was practically hungry.

Harmless experimentation, that’s all this was. And it was even for a great cause. For five days now, I’d regrown the oran berry each night after I was sure everyone else in the house had gone to bed. I held the little, blue orb in hand, admiring it for the miracle of botany that it was. It had so much potential, and to hold it in hand, it just felt… special…

I’d also taken to taking little nibbles of it. Oran berries tasted mostly sweet with a slight, floral aftertaste that reminded me of warm, spring mornings. They were juicy, but a little tart, dry was the word in posh, grown-up wine-speak. I sometimes had more than one per night, occasionally even adjusting the sugar content or texture marginally for a better eating experience.

Then I’d raid the kitchen for more biomass to feed to the tree before following its genetic makeup like a blueprint to make more oran berries. It wasn’t as if anyone would miss a few cold cuts, though I made a note to pick up some pinecones from the backyard or something so I could supplement the biomass. The last thing I wanted was for mom to discover what I’d been doing before Blake and I were ready.

Ultimately, I had to admit it: Blake was right. I lost. This thing was a gift from whatever alpaca-god he worshiped and to not spread oran berries around the world would be a crime.

We needed to talk.

X

Brockton Bay, NH, USA
Friday, February 4, 2011
Type: Bug

I slid into my seat at lunch and started munching on my pizza. Today was my bug day, which reminded me that it had been about two weeks since I’d seen the girl called Theresa.

The name made me snort a little. She wasn’t fooling anyone. Hopefully, she’d have a better name for me today because I wanted to check up on her. She said she was making her costume out of spider silk and it struck me that I could provide much better silk. Hell, if she needed sewing help, I could easily put her in touch with Parian.

“Blake? You listening?” Dean asked, snapping me out of my musings.

“Hmm? What’s up?” I asked, snapping up a carrot stick. “Sorry, I zoned out a bit.”

“Of course you did,” Briana said, rolling her eyes. It wasn’t like she wasn’t pretty, she was, but she was so into dance club and cheer practice that my eyes tended to glaze over whenever she opened her mouth. “We were talking about the Winter Formal.”

“Oh, that? That’s coming up?”

“It’s next Friday!”

“Yeah… Sorry, I’m not really plugged into the school gossip.”

“Well, you should think about asking someone to the dance or you’ll be a friendless loser.”

“Nope, I don’t do dances. I’m sure Dean and Vicky will win whatever popularity contest there is anyway,” I drawled.

“Yeah, leave him alone, Briana,” Amy said. “I don’t go either.”

Vicky took the chance to jump on the subject. “But you have a date this time! You should call out Menagerie!”

“He doesn’t even like dances.”

“Come on, sis! It’s for one night!”

“Vicky, he literally can’t show up in a suit because he’s always armored.”

“Well, he could wear a domino mask,” she tried.

I would never. For starters, Vicky and Dean would recognize me instantly. I could already see Dean narrowing his eyes in thought as he looked at me. Knowing he was Gallant, I quickly schooled myself as best I could and brushed Vicky off with a laugh. “Wouldn’t that just make him look like Tuxedo Mask from Sailor Moon?”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, nothing. I don’t suppose it matters to me since I won’t be there.”

“I know a few people who might be interested, Blake. Want me to introduce you?”

“Nope, no way in hell.” I turned to Dean. He was always great at distracting his girlfriend. “Dean, kiss your girlfriend. I need a distraction.”

He looked at me in mock disbelief. “Is that all I am to you? Your Vicky-repellant?”

“Yup. You’re my virgin sacrifice to the horrid monster that is Vicky. Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”

“Guilty,” he said, pecking her on the cheek. “Now if we’re done making Blake uncomfortable, I was saying we should meet up at my house before the dance.”

I zoned out again as they began hashing out the details. I was sure this would come up again, if only because Vicky wouldn’t leave Amy alone until she at least asked Menagerie to the dance.

X

Though I hadn’t fully committed Theresa’s psychic signature to memory as I’d done with Coil and Elle, she proved to be a remarkably easy person to find. Not only had I spent a decent length of time in her mind, her lack of discipline, training, and experience made her broadcast on all channels, practically screaming out her location to any psychic that cared to listen.

Luckily for her, I was the only psychic around to listen.

I hovered over the city as orbeetle, the insectoid creature giving me a general awareness for miles around. It also had a highly technical understanding of the world, one filled with academic curiosity.

When I found her, the sight made me want to chuck a car out past the Rig. She was in a side street and wore a baggy, gray sweater and sweatpants that hid just about everything about her. I suspected that was normal with her. She was also duct taped to a street lamp and had coke and orange juice dripping from her hair onto her sweater.

That… That certainly explained her kicked puppy routine.

I studied her for a minute. She struggled to free herself and was making some good progress. Whoever tied her to the street lamp hadn’t been trying very hard. I also noted that she didn’t call for help, not that anyone in this part of town would bother. Hell, if a Merchant found her, they were likely to shoot her up with something while she couldn’t resist in the hopes of gaining a new “customer.”

Still, she probably didn’t want to be helped. She’d been cagey before and I now knew why. Trust issues probably came naturally at this point.

But what we wanted wasn’t always what we needed.

In the end, what the lonely girl needed right now wasn’t to be left alone. She may not need help freeing herself from the lamp, but she did need to be shown that the world wasn’t out to get her. There were good people in the world, people wouldn’t walk past her without a second glance.

I hovered down, coming into view with a jolly wave. “Hello there, citizen. Do you require assistance?”

She looked at me with a deadpan glare. “You were watching.”

“For a minute. I’ll be honest with you, I wasn’t sure how I should approach this. I’m… I’m better at the goofy, campy stuff. Here, allow me.”

I grabbed hold of the duct tape with Psychic. With a casual flex, Theresa’s bonds tore into so much confetti.

She rubbed her wrists tenderly and grumbled, “I could have gotten free.”

“You could have, but I may as well save you a few minutes. Theresa, right?”

“It’s Tay-” she started to say before catching herself. “Y-Yeah… Theresa.”

“It’s great to meet you again. You play a mean game of chess,” I said, mostly to remind her of where and how we met. “You really know how to give a guy a mean headache.”

“Yeah… I…”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

I shifted back and gestured around us. “This. There’s no one else here right now.”

“You must think I’m pathetic,” she muttered bitterly. She was crying now, angry tears leaving salty tracks down her cheeks. “Some hero I am, huh?”

“You’re not pathetic.”

“I am! Did you know we triggered at the same time? You captured Kaiser. I can’t even handle high school bullies. You save dozens of lives every day. I’m still working on a stupid costume. I’m… I’m nothing…”

I looked at her with pity. Two weeks ago, I’d thought she had the same eyes I had once upon a time. In another life, I too had been so very eager to prove myself. I wanted to be something more than an orphan and set out on a journey with no one but Luca by my side.

Above all else, that was the difference between us. Not power or competence or experience, those things could be earned with time.

Luca. Luca was the difference.

I’d had a brother to watch my back. I’d had someone I trusted implicitly, whose life I held above my own, because I knew he felt the same way about me. I pitied her. Not because she was bullied, or because she was going through a rough patch in her life, but because she didn’t have her own Luca. She was alone, and alone was a terrifying thing to be.

She was someone who wanted to prove herself, by herself. It hurt to see that determination in her eyes. Because it was still there, faded and flickering like a candle in the wind, but lit nonetheless.

I wanted to stoke that fire.

“You’re not nothing. You’re not pathetic. All this? This doesn’t change a single thing about how I see you,” I said gently, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. I prayed to Arceus that these were the words she needed to hear. “You’re hungry. You’re ambitious. You’ve got a dream. This might be a rough patch in your life, but that just an opportunity to rise above.”

She angrily pulled off her glasses and stuffed them into the pocket of her hoodie so she could wipe her eyes. “How? What am I supposed to do? They’re the popular kids, the rich kids. Teachers don’t listen. No one ever does.”

“I’m here. And I’m listening loud and clear. I want to help you.”

“So what? Are you going to go beat up the bullies for me?” she said with a watery laugh. “Or maybe give them a stern talking-to?”

“We could go to the cops.”

“I tried that already! What do you think happened after I got powers? Someone from the school board came, paid for my hospital stay, and made dad settle. You know what they found when the cops got there? Nothing, because the principal had the janitor mop it all up!”

I frowned. That… That wasn’t right. It was clear that Theresa had a deep mistrust of authority, and it was also clear that she had damn good reason. What the fuck was the principal doing? In what world was covering up a potential trigger the right thing to do?

This obviously wasn’t some isolated incident. She was being targeted and the school administration was blatantly sabotaging her attempts to make things right. I’d heard from Mark and Leah that Winslow was a shitshow, but I’d always thought they were exaggerating somewhat. I’d need to take those stories more seriously by the looks of things.

“It sounds to me like the cops haven’t been given a fair shake here, Theresa. They tried to help but were hindered from doing so,” I said. I looked around at the strips of duct tape on the ground. Pulling out my phone, I snapped off a few quick pictures. “This? This goes beyond a mean-spirited prank. This is outright criminal assault. Or battery maybe? I don’t know, I’m not good at the legal jargon…”

“They won’t listen. They won’t care. They’ve always got better things to do,” she whispered. “Like you. You could be saving lives at the hospital but you’re here for me.”

“And I’d rather be nowhere else. Theresa, I’m listening,” I repeated. I needed her to understand, to know that I was here for her, that she wasn’t alone. “And I can get more people to listen. I hear you. You’ve reached out before and got burned for it. But don’t let that stop you from trying again. Don’t let those people stop you from accepting help when it finally comes. You have the right to be happy, everyone does. Please, let me help you.”

“I… That doesn’t work. This isn’t a cartoon. Heroes don’t just swoop down to save people,” she said, bitter resentment in her voice. “And even when they do, they can’t do anything.”

“We can. We are,” I countered. “It’s why you want to be a hero, isn’t it? You want to make a difference, you said. You can start by helping me help you.”

I held out a gauntleted hand. Maybe the middle of a side street on the shitty end of town wasn’t the best place for a heart-to-heart, but it was happening.

Slowly, gingerly, she placed her hand in mind. “O-Okay… Please help me, Menagerie.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

We stood there, hand in hand. When i said nothing else, she looked at me with a raised brow. “So… What now?”

That stumped me for a minute. Truthfully, I wasn’t very good at leading investigation teams. Usually, there were League officials who excelled at this kind of thing. Or if not them, then the International Police; that Looker fellow wasn’t the best battler, but he was a reliable detective for sure.

Track a trail for weeks through dense jungle? Sure, that I could do. Fight a lucario in single combat? It’d hurt, but I could give as good as I got. But handle a crime scene or follow legal proceedings to ensure the evidence stuck? That was… not me…

“Well, for starters, we need to get you cleaned up. After that, we can find a place you consider safe. And then we should call the cops to give your testimony. I’ll give mine too of course.”

“I… Okay. Take a picture of me.”

“Really?”

“If we’re doing this, we need to be thorough,” she said. Some of that steely determination I’d seen before was back now.

“You’re right. Thanks for reminding me, Theresa.”

“Taylor. It’s Taylor. If we’re going to the cops, you’ll find out in a minute anyway,” she shrugged.

X

That was how I found myself at the home of one Taylor Hebert. I did my best to remove the juice stains via orbeetle’s Psychic, but it was a pokemon best suited to reconnaissance, not fine control. Some of the sugar and food coloring had seeped into the dye, staining her gray sweater irreparably.

I was seated across from two detectives, Culvers and Gutierrez. To my right was Taylor, sandwiched between her father and me. The story came out: Her bullies were a trio of girls in her grade, one of whom was even her godsister.

It all began the summer before high school, when Emma Barnes, said godsister and best friend, ditched her for some other girl by the name of Sophia Hess. I had no idea why they couldn't all be friends, it wasn’t like there was a cap on the number of friends you could have, but that went to show what I knew about teenage girls.

To keep things brief, Emma, Sophia, and another girl by the name of Madison Clements conducted a bullying campaign since then. It started small, spitballs in her hair, mean jokes in the halls, and the occasional stolen assignment, but quickly escalated to what I saw today. In January, they’d even stuffed her into her own locker with used tampons and pads, making her go into shock. She didn’t say as much, but it didn’t take an alakazam to tell that this was her trigger event.

And all this time, her father, Daniel Hebert, had no idea.

I wasn’t sure what to feel about the man. On one hand, he cared. He loved his daughter dearly. He turned into a sobbing mess as he apologized to Taylor for never having a clue. His was the face of a man who only now realized how close he’d come to losing the person most precious to him. It was heartbreaking. His wife died and he was so busy mourning, so caught up in his depression, that he didn’t recognize what he was doing to his daughter.

On the other hand, he could have done so much. Taylor’s life could have been greatly improved if she had someone staunchly in her corner. He wasn’t entirely at fault for this; she was the kind of person who refused to confide in others unless she was forced to, but he was hardly innocent either. I couldn’t help but wonder if Taylor would have triggered at all with her father there to help her stave off the isolation.

I sighed and let the father-daughter duo have their moment. Whatever happened in the past, no matter how tough she pretended to be, she needed her dad.

Finally, when the two calmed down, Detective Culvers brought the conversation back on track. “Taylor, tell me, do you have any evidence you’ve gathered? It’s not that we don’t believe you, but we need something solid.”

She sniffled a bit but got herself under control quickly. If I remembered her power right, she was likely dumping the emotional turmoil into her swarm. I found it funny that she was keeping things together better than her father.

“I-I have a journal,” she began. “I started last year. It has everything they did. I know it’s not proof, but I just… had to do something.”

“We understand. And even if it’s not airtight, if it’s anything like today, we’ve got a reason to investigate.”

I slid my phone over as Taylor went upstairs to fetch her journal. “I also took photos of the incident today and can take you there. I’m sure you’ll find the leftover duct tape.”

“That’s a good start. And, Mr. Hebert, you said your daughter spent a week in the hospital at the beginning of the year?”

“Y-Yes,” he stammered. Daniel Hebert was a tall, thin man, with glasses that made him look like every other accountant on earth. Though they shared the same wiry frame, dark hair, and glasses, the willful determination I’d seen in his daughter’s eyes were nowhere to be found in his. He looked… defeated. Tired. Like a man who’d failed one too many people in his life. “She… She had a mental breakdown and had to stay for a week for observation. Physical therapy too… I… I should have paid more attention…”

I said nothing to that. What could I say? He wasn’t wrong.

Detective Gutierrez nodded as he took notes. “Do you remember the hospital she stayed at? We’ll want exact dates. Her attending physician and nurse as well. And her medical records.”

“We can’t… I couldn’t pay for the hospital… Some sleazy lawyer showed up two days later. He was from the school board and…”

“And you settled,” he finished for him. Daniel nodded meekly. Taylor quietly slid back into her seat and placed a thick binder onto the coffee table. “Alright, here’s what you’re going to do: You’re going to seek legal help. Usually, a settlement means you can’t sue for this incident. This. Incident. Everything else in that binder should be fair game.”

He looked a little more resolute now that he had something he could tangibly do. “I’ll make some calls, though I guess I can’t call Alan now. That son of a bitch…”

“He probably didn’t know either,” I told him. “If Taylor’s not the chatty type, I doubt Emma is. Teenagers don’t exactly fess up to being bullies.”

“I… Yeah…”

“I wouldn’t tell him either way,” Detective Culvers said. “He might have known, he might have not. In the end, you’d be putting him in a position where counseling you would be condemning his daughter.”

“You’re right. He probably won’t be much help anyway; he’s a divorce attorney.”

That got my mind thinking of possibilities. Everyone knew Amy’s mother was a lawyer. I understood that there were many different branches of law, but surely she worked with crime of some sort? Maybe parahuman-specific crime, but she probably had some insight.

Sarah gave me New Waves’ numbers because of the Coil incident. It was still four in the afternoon, business hours. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to call.

“What are you doing?” Taylor asked.

“Following my own advice: It’s not wrong to ask for help,” I said simply. “It strikes me that I am not a lawyer. But I do have a lovely, little Grinch of a girlfriend. And she has a mom who is a lawyer.”

“You’re calling Brandish?”

“Why do you look so shocked? She’s just a person, you know. She’s got a normal job, watches soap operas, and really needs a hobby like every other middle-aged mom.”

“I just… I didn’t think you would,” she mumbled.

“She’s the expert. Why wouldn’t I seek her advice?” I asked rhetorically.

The phone rang four times before she picked up. “Hello?”

“Hi, Mama-Dallon?”

“Who’s thi-Menagerie?”

“Yup, hi. I need some legal advice.”

“What did you do? No, whatever it is, cooperate with the police. Do you understand? Don’t make things worse for yours-”

“Brandish! I’m fine,” I snapped. I wasn’t sure if I should be annoyed that she jumped straight to me doing something illegal or touched that she cared in her own, skeptical way. “I ran into a girl tied to a street lamp with juice and soda running down her hair. I was just asking about legal counsel for her.”

“Ah, I see. I do have a meeting in half an hour but… Alright, I can spare a few minutes. Tell me everything.”

So, we did. Taylor and Daniel were hesitant at first, but once they got going, the floodgates opened. They talked non-stop for twenty minutes.

Through it all, Carol Dallon said nothing save to ask a few questions. She also made note of the testimony being recorded by the two detectives and got their contact information and badge numbers, which none of us had thought to do.

Finally, the exposition ended. When she spoke again, it was with a tinge of regret in her voice. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is the case for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I specialize in parahuman law. In fact, I work primarily in discovery and assist the prosecutor, particularly when it concerns recent triggers or cases involving assault with parahuman powers. Not all of my cases are necessarily criminal in nature but they all pertain to parahumans. Taylor, are you a parahuman?”

Taylor looked like a deer in the headlights. Saying yes might mean receiving Carol’s help more directly, but it’d also mean outing herself to the detectives. And if she went to Carol later, that alone would raise some flags.

She looked at me in panic but I remained silent. In the end, this was her choice to make. I placed very little stock in my own secret identity, but I could understand why she wanted it kept quiet.

“No,” she said. It sounded a bit plastic to me, but maybe that was because I knew her ability to foist emotions onto her swarm. “I’m not a cape. So you won’t help me?”

“Can’t. Not won’t. Can’t. At least not directly. You shouldn’t want my help at all considering this isn’t my field of expertise. It’s akin to going to a heart surgeon for questions about your eyes. They may both be doctors, but they focus on different areas of the body,” she said. If she noticed anything off about Taylor’s tone, she didn’t mention it. And to her credit, she sounded apologetic. “However, that isn’t to say I can’t help at all. For starters, I work for a large law firm and we have multiple branches. One of them specializes in personal injury and liability. I can ask Parker, the managing partner of that practice, about taking on a pro bono case.”

“Y-You’d do that?” her father asked.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I? I have no reason to believe you’ve been withholding information from me. Do I?”

“N-No! Of course not. I just didn’t think a big law firm like yours would take our case.”

“We do pro bono work because it looks good on our website,” she said dryly. “More to the point, I trust Menagerie. He’s… silly… but he does good work.”

“Aww, thanks, I’m touched,” I replied, just as dry.

“In any case, you did mention that your friend’s father is Alan Barnes?”

“Ah, yes?” Daniel looked confused at the question before his face went white. “Oh, no.”

“You see what I’m getting at. Is Alan Barnes the same who works at Parker, Mitchel, & Dallon?”

“Yes he is. Oh, no. I’ve been asking you about advice that could affect your relationship with your coworker.”

“Don’t mind it. It’s a big firm. Besides, he’s a divorce attorney. We really have nothing to do with each other. I bring it up because should Parker take your case, he’ll be ethically bound to reject Barnes should he come for the same. In fact, since I am currently providing you legal counsel, I’m afraid I’ll have to insist my firm hear nothing of Alan’s side until we agree on discovery proceedings.

I blinked at that. I hadn’t even considered this angle. I wasn’t exactly an expert, but I could get the gist: There would be a conflict of interest if one firm represented both sides of a legal battle. Naturally, that meant that if Carol’s firm represented Taylor, they would be honor-bound to reject the other party.

Strictly speaking, they hadn’t agreed to represent Taylor yet. Some guy named Parker was in charge of that apparently. But Carol had provided “legal counsel” in this matter and could insist, just to be ethical. It was sneaky and deprived Taylor’s bullies of what I suspected would be very competent legal help.

“Thank you,” Daniel said sincerely. “You don’t know what this means to us.”

“I’m just making an observation,” she replied plainly. “Now, Parker will likely hear your case. If he chooses not to take your case on a pro bono basis, I’ll be sure he recommends a respected firm that will. If that’s all, I really do have to make that meeting in four minutes.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you for your help, Mrs. Dallon.”

“A pleasure. And Menagerie?”

“Yes?” I asked curiously.

“I looked up what a ‘chuuni’ is. Please stop filling my daughter’s head with nonsense.”

With that final rejoinder, she hung up, leaving me dumbfounded.

I did not pout. And if I did, no one could prove it beneath the helmet anyway. “Well that was uncalled for.”

“That sounds like a whole lot of not-our-business,” Detective Culver drawled. He stood and offered me a hand. “We’ll be on our way now. Taylor, do you mind if we take the binder? We’ll take it in as evidence and make copies of it before returning it to you.”

“No, go ahead. That’s why I made it,” she said. “Will it really help?”

“It’ll give us a reason to start digging. And if the principal’s really covering things up, well, that’s more than a few criminal allegations,” Detective Gutierrez said with a vicious grin.

When they left, Daniel turned to me and offered his hand. “Thank you, Menagerie. You’re a real hero.”

“Only when school’s out,” I joked. “Really, don’t stress. Also, Taylor, call me if anything else comes up, alright? I might not be a lawyer, but it’s good to talk things out sometimes.”

“Okay. I will,” she said with a meaningful glance. I expected her to call me in a day or two, maybe next week once things had settled.

“Time for me to go then. Cheers, everyone.”

“Wait, how did you come here? Wouldn’t people know something’s happening?” Daniel asked.

I shrugged. “You had two cops pay a visit. They know something’s happening by now. But you’re right. I snuck in.”

“Huh?”

“Watch. Shift, accelgor!”

I turned into a ninja. A miniature, mummified, penis-headed ninja. The bands of silky membrane were apparently to keep me from dehydrating without a shell.

Knowledge flooded my mind. I intrinsically knew everything there was to know about stealth, poison, and the fine art of covert operations. I was also one of the fastest pokemon alive, capable of blinding movements akin to a ninja.

It was the star of more than one ninja-themed comic series and movie in my old world, a huge hit with children. Apparently, a gym leader’s gallade in Hoenn was also a huge fan of this pokemon.

“That’s…” Taylor trailed off, looking for words to describe the mummy-penis in her living room. Then the psychic link connected between us. “Wait, are you a bug still?”

“Yup. But more importantly, I’m a ninja.”

“How is a bright, pink head ninja-like?”

“Call it a handicap. Besides, I can do this.”

“Do wha-”

I brought my bandaged forelimbs together in some mockery of a “hand-seal,” whatever the fuck those were. “Nin-nin!”

Then, to the shock of the pair watching, I split into five copies. It was a textbook Double Team, one of the most commonly used moves in the competitive battle circuit in my world. Hell, a great many pokemon could learn it, making it a fantastic move for teaching a pokemon versatility, deception, and basic combat tactics.

But despite its ubiquitousness, it was a move that had an unbelievably high skill cap. Pokemon like ninjask and accelgor used it with an ease of mastery that boggled the mind, to the point that those illusions could be considered a “speed clone” almost.

I laughed as I blurred from human sight. With my newfound expertise in all things ninjutsu, it was child’s play to sneak out of the house.

As I left, I noticed that though her father lost me instantly, Taylor managed to fixate on my position, or at least where I had been, with pinpoint accuracy. A psychic through and through, I was a “bug” and therefore something she could track, if not by sight, then by relying on her power.

It didn’t mean much if she couldn’t react in time to this kind of speed, but it was still an impressive little factoid.

“Now, I wonder what my darling girlfriend is up to?” I giggled, blitzing off into the sunset.

X

Amy was doing homework. I didn’t know why that surprised me, we were in high school, but it did. Maybe I was starting to buy into the “being a superhero” hype if I forgot that Amy was an unexpectedly boring person when she wasn’t in the hospital. Besides trawling through PHO, even her hobbies were largely imported from whatever caught Victoria’s fancy this week.

Fortunately for me, that meant she was easy to lure out of her house.

The two of us grabbed a gyro from some Mediterranean place and settled atop the roof of a random apartment complex near the college. Given how few flyers there were in the city, our primary competition for real estate was the local seagull population and the droppings they left behind.

Once we found a shit-free place to settle, Amy tore open the foil around her wrap and took a big bite. “So, what’s up?”

“We need to talk,” I said seriously.

“We do… I played around with the oran berry sprig you gave me.”

“And?”

“It’s a little bonsai tree in my room.”

“So you haven’t eaten the berry yet?” I asked, a little disappointed.  Oran berries were ubiquitous. Its sweet, tart flavor and floral fragrance was universal in my world, so much so that I could close my eyes and imagine the flavor of an oran berry pie even now. I wanted to share that with my best friend.

“I did. The berry looks really distinctive though, like a blueberry that’s as big as a tangerine or small orange. Mom would ask questions.”

“So what did you do?”

“I made little nodes of nutrients beneath the soil from root deposits, kind of like sweet potatoes. Then, when I wanted a berry, I transferred the nutrients up the tree to form one berry at a time,” she said excitedly.

Her eyes were shining. She’d never done this before. I’d known for a while now that Amy was not a healer, but an unrestrained biokinetic. The only thing that kept her from doing more was her own restricted view on how her power should be used.

If such a simple thing like making berries on demand made her so happy, I couldn’t help but think that she should do more.

I smiled, happy for her. “How’d you like the flavor?”

“It’s great, like a perfectly ripe blueberry mixed with an aftertaste that reminds me of wildflowers. I don’t know how to describe it.”

“And the health benefits?”

“I… You’re…”

“Say it.”

“No, shut up, Blake.”

“Ames,” I whined. “You were halfway there. Two words. You’re… You’re what?”

“You’re right! Happy?” she huffed, cheeks turning a rosy red that had nothing to do with the February chill. “You were right.”

“Ah, that does sound wonderful to hear. Mind saying that one more time? This time for the cameras?”

“Don’t push it.”

“Heh. Fine. I’m glad you liked it,” I said sincerely. “I knew it was harmless, but I want this to be something you enjoy, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah… It’s… You have more berries, right? There were like ten different kinds in the game.”

“A lot more than that. Try dozens.”

“Dozens?”

“Dozens. Some good for making burn salves, others to restore electrical nerve damage. One that serves as a universal antidote. Another that is basically a cure-all for what the game would call status ailments: poison, burn, paralysis, sleep, delirium, and more,” I said, arms spread wide.

Berries were such a huge part of my old world’s culture. Hell, the very first pokeballs were made from a type of berry. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that human society in my world was founded upon berries. Waxing poetic about the flora may have made me sound like a hippy car salesman, but I didn’t care.

“That… You know how impossible that sounds?”

“Everyone’s been telling me that about my powers since I debuted. And, you know, I’ve yet to lie.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured. How would that last one work anyway? Maybe… Maybe it’s not really about curing anything?”

“It’s magic, deal with it.”

“I refuse to believe in magic. But… But some kind of biotinkered creation that releases enzymes to promote the body’s natural homeostasis might do the trick. It would promote the body’s natural healing processes for burns and damaged nerves and release hormones to encourage alertness and inhibit melatonin receptors. That’d also have the benefit of improving concentration, knocking people out of the ‘confusion’ status in your games. But that wouldn’t be just one enzyme… right? It would have to be a full cocktail of the stuff, the combination of which is so unbelievable that natural occurrence is impossible…” Amy trailed off, geeking out about the wonders of a lum berry that I hadn’t even shown her yet.

I reached out and literally shook her out of her biokinetic fugue. I didn’t think non-tinkers could get fugues, but Amy’s burgeoning fascination with berries seemed to replicate the symptoms.

“Woah, chill out, Ames,” I said. “Slowly. One step at a time. We agreed that we’d build a proper distribution network for the oran berries because they were the least objectionable. We’ll get to the other stuff after.”

“Good. Yes, I’ll… I’ll have to examine each berry closely. For safety.”

“Sure, and totally not because you’re an uber-nerd who wants to geek out about biology for hours.”

“You want my help or not?”

“As you wish, oh, geekiness. So? What do you think we should do next?” I asked.

I took another bite of my gyro as we fell into a comfortable silence. I didn’t know what the big deal was. A gyro was just a pretentious burrito in my book.

Truthfully, neither of us were sure what to do next. It wasn’t as though our powers came with automatic knowledge of procedures, especially for greelighting what would inevitably be considered medical tinkertech.

In the end, we agreed that we had three choices: First, we could go to Carol Dallon. Amy didn’t like this option; it didn’t take a genius to see that she and her adopted mother were… estranged… but it was an option nonetheless.

Second, we could go directly to the local PRT. I personally disliked this option because they didn’t strike me as the open-minded type. Admittedly, I knew little about Director Piggot as a person, but considering the state of the city and the general, hardheaded attitude of Armsmaster, I felt like going in there with no plan would be a bad idea. They likely wouldn’t give us a good faith negotiation.

Lastly, I could make a weekend trip of things. I could easily fly a few oran berry bushes out to New York. The national Protectorate office was there, led by Legend. To be fair, I didn’t know the man any better than I knew Armsmaster, but he was much more personable at least. And, if the berries got the distribution they deserved, it would most certainly be a global issue better handled by Legend and the NY director than a small branch like Brockton.

X

“I feel stupid,” I told her.

“What?”

“We don’t need to go to the PRT or your mom.”

“So you’re going to make it all Legend’s problem? I’m cool with that,” she said with a shrug.

“No, but I can make it Dragon’s problem.”

“Oh… Huh…”

“What?”

“It feels weird but I guess you do have her on speed dial.”

“Yup. And she’s rank two in the Legacy of Steel leaderboards.”

"Who's rank one?"

"I don't know. Does it matter?"

“Meh, guess not. Tinkers are bullshit."

“So? Good idea?”

“Yeah. She has the distribution network. And she already thinks you’re hot shit.”

“Excuse you, I am hot shit.”

“Totally. Steaming. Like a freshly laid pile of bull.”

“Love you too, Ames,” I said sweetly.

“Whatever. Just call her, you dork.”

“Give me a sec. I’m sure she’s crazy busy so I don’t know if she’ll answer right away.”

I punched in her number and waited. My cell rang just twice. It was weird. For someone with so many responsibilities, she always seemed available for a chat.

Honestly? I felt a little flattered at that.

“Hello?” Dragon’s not-quite-Canadian accent came through.

“Hello, Dragon. This is Menagerie.”

“Yesh, how is your evening?”

“Pretty good, how’s yours?”

“Oh, it’s just starting. I’m in Vancouver, remember? Three hours behind you. I was just about to start making dinner, you see. I take it this isn’t a social call?”

“I’m afraid not. I’m with Panacea right now and we had something we wanted your help with.”

“Something that you and Panacea need from me? I admit I’m curious,” she said.

“Hi, Dragon,” Amy added nervously. She’d seemed so confident when we were chatting but now that Dragon was here, the fact that she was about to unveil the full extent of her power to someone else was weighing on her. “We need you to keep an open mind.”

“I can do that. You’ll find I am used to rather exceptional circumstances.”

“Y-Yeah, I guess you are.”

“Take your time. Whatever it is, I promise to be as impartial as possible. I don’t know what I can do for you that either Menagerie or your mother can’t, but I’ll do my best to help,” she said sincerely.

“Well… It’s like this…”

I chimed in here and there but for the most part sat back and left Amy to it. As much as they were my berries, this was more or less her show. She was the one with in-depth knowledge of biology, not me.

Amy went over how I showed her oran berries and how we were careful to not leave biological residue. She talked about the full extent of her power and how she kept a bonsai plant of this new berry in her room for testing. Now, she was fully certain of its effects and felt confident in backing my efforts.

“So let me sum up what you’re telling me,” Dragon said. “Menagerie is capable of creating berries that have miraculous medical properties and you two want my help in distributing this on a large scale.”

“Yes, that’s right,” I told her. “Our first thought was to go to Legend in New York, but you came to mind as someone with a distribution network and a lot of goodwill with different organizations. We know how skeptical people are of biotinkered creations.”

“But this can save so many lives,” Amy said. “And if Menagerie’s other berries are really as good, then…”

“Yes, I can see the appeal,” Dragon said gently. “However, please understand that I will need to run my own tests.”

“W-What would that mean?”

“It means I am going to send you a file over email. You’re going to fill out the form to the best of your ability, both for legal purposes and so I can cross-reference the information with my own tests. And then, I’ll send a drone over to pick up several samples of berries. Finally, if, and only when, all berries can be confirmed to have the effects you say they do, we will move on with distribution.”

“I understand. That sounds reasonable,” I told her. As respected as Amy was, she didn’t have the kind of pull Dragon did. Hell, it probably was better to go through official channels like this.

“Good. I will await your report, Panacea.”

“Gee, homework,” Amy said sarcastically, but I could see her shoulders visibly lighten. This was the girl who loathed responsibility after all. The thought that someone capable would be double-checking her work did wonders for her mood.

“Thank you and goodnight, Dragon.”

“You certainly know how to make my life interesting, Menagerie. Goodnight.”

X

“Okay, so… We have a plan.”

“We do indeed have a plan.”

I let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Phew. Good, I’m not really good at being serious.”

“Yeah, neither am I,” Amy said. She leaned into me enough to nudge my shoulder. We were silent for a while. Then, “Why  did the condom cross the road?”

“Really?” I asked with a snort of laughter.

“Shut up, I don’t know what to talk about right now.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll play. Why?”

“Because I wore the wrong pair of socks this morning.”

“Hah! You know that joke doesn’t work if you’re a girl.”

“How do you know? It could be someone else’s socks.”

“Le gasp! Amy Dallon! Are you cheating on our fake relationship?”

“Yup. And I must say, infidelity feels soggy.”

“Ugh, that’s terrible.”

“Yeah, but it was the first joke I thought of.”

“Shameless.”

“Hey, blame the nurses. You’d be surprised at how degenerate healthcare workers can be.”

“Fair enough. We all gotta blow off steam somehow.”

“Exactly. Some people make raunchy joke-”

“And other people start drug empires,” I finished for her, only to receive an elbow to the ribs.

“Ass. It’s not a drug empire if we mean well.”

“Can I quote you on that?”

“Shut up.”

“Heh. Anyway, wanna grab dessert?” I asked. It felt nice, sitting side by side and looking out at the sunset. “There’s something I want to show you.”

“A new pokemon?” She tried to sound nonchalant but I could see the spark of excitement in her eyes. At this point, groping new pokemon was basically her favorite hobby.

A surge of heat flared in my chest at the thought. Victini was everything wonderful about pokemon, packed in a pint-sized package. She was powerful, kind, curious, and not a little mischievous.

I wanted to introduce my best friend to the Legend. Besides, Victini must feel pretty cooped up in my soul. I wasn’t sure what she was doing, but she’d surely appreciate the chance to act independently for a bit.

“Kind of, but this one’s special.”

“How?”

“Well, she’s super-duper powerful. Like, stronger than every cape in the city combined.”

“Blake, how big is it? Is it another Godzilla-lite? And why is it a she?”

“Because… Because she’s got a personality. You know, instead of just having general tendencies and preferences, she’s her own person. And she’s like a foot tall.”

“You’re… Are you telling me that your power comes with its own Tinkerbell?”

“Kinda… I mean… She’s not a fairy, more psychic and fire dual type, but I guess… Actually, yeah, the description isn’t inaccurate.”

A dozen emotions danced across her face. She took a deep breath and sighed. “Fuck it. You know what? I’m not going to question it. So I should call you a ‘her’ this time?”

“No, I’m still me, but Victini, that’s her name, can take control sometimes when I’m in that form.”

“Cool. Lay it on me.”

“Fair warning,” I said, standing back. “She’s a bit of a prankster.”

“You mean like you setting off the endbringer alarms on accident?” Amy asked with an arched brow.

I ignored my bestie’s lack of humor and reached for the fire in my soul. It was so warm, an embrace that reminded me of a hearth in the winter. And yet, it blazed with the unmistakable intensity of a star, a power worthy of her Legendary title.

She answered eagerly. I felt our souls merge into one, a heat that was just this side of unbearable. Though her power was immense, it was her mind that left me speechless. Memories, thoughts, and impressions streamed into me. In that moment, I knew Victini like no one else had ever known her. And she in turn knew me.

As her fire swept over me, I knew this would be like no other shift before. The forms I borrowed were soulless templates, powerful, yet limited. This, this was Victini, the Star of Victory who once guided the heroes of Unova.

I held my hand out for Amy to see. A tiny spark ignited in the palm of my hand. I then brought it to my own heart, trusting that her fire would never burn me. “Legend’s Mirage, Victini!”

And then, I sank into the depths of our shared consciousness. After all, this was her turn.

X

Amy Dallon

Fire.

My world was fire.

A towering pillar of flame erupted from Blake’s position. The fire engulfed me completely and my heart leapt into my throat.

This was it. This was how I’d die. Blake, doing something stupid.

Somehow, that didn’t surprise me as much as I thought it would.

The heat was unbearable. Consciously, I knew I should be dust in the breeze. The white core at the center of the inferno made that abundantly clear.

And yet, my eyes were open.

I wasn’t burning to death. My idiot boyfriend did not in fact cremate me.

“MWAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA!!!!!!” I heard the sound of bombastic cackling pierce through the crackling flames. “I”M FREE!!!!!”

“What the fuck…” I muttered. I looked down at my hands and saw a faint, blue glow. It was some kind of force field that kept me safe, like Daniel and his angel.

Then, behind the stupid cackling and the crackling flames, I heard it. The endbringer sirens began to wail and I knew I had work to do. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I picked up the phone.

“Hi… Aunt Sarah…?”

X

I heard a tired sigh on the other line. “Menagerie?”

“Err…” Technically… Blake wasn’t responsible… right? This was Victini? But how did I explain to her that his power had its own Tinkerbell? And that it liked to pretend to be the motherfucking sun on occasion? “Yeah…”

“I’ll call the PRT. Amy?”

“Yes, auntie?”

“Just… Use protection?”

“It’s not like that!”

I groaned as the line went dead.

Now that I wasn’t fearing for my life, it was actually rather nice in here, all toasty like a warm hug. I peered into the core of the fire and gasped as things ramped up another notch.

There was something called “absolute heat” in science. I learned that in physics, though I couldn’t for the life of me recall why or how. Mr. Sutherland was pretty rambly and physics really wasn’t my favorite subject. It had something to do with entropy and the heat death of the universe. Apparently, the hottest color in the visible electromagnetic spectrum was a nice, baby blue.

The pillar of fire was now blue.

I wondered how long this would go on. Then, I saw it.

From within the flames, a giant, horned figure roared into the sky. “Who dares summon the mighty Victini?”

The voice was distinctly feminine, which raised all sorts of questions about Blake’s gender identity that I shelved for the moment. There was an unmistakable echo to her voice, as if a thousand crackling bonfires whooshed out in chorus.

Her shadow stood a good twelve feet tall, with her twin, V-shaped horns adding another foot and a half. Huge, bulbous eyes glowed from behind the fire, like sapphire searchlights that made the pillar of fire seem as dark as the night sky. Like twin beams of a lighthouse, they stared into my soul. In the back of my mind, I vaguely recognized this as some kind of psychic, attention-grabbing effect to draw my attention towards her eyes.

That wasn’t as important as the rising panic I felt. Blake had called Victini a “Legend.” I could practically hear the capital “L” in that word.

Standing here, alone and beneath the gaze of a flaming devil, I felt a little like a poor villager sacrificed to the demon god in those fantasy stories.

“‘She’s a foot tall,’ he says. What fucking bullshit is this?” I cried in exasperation.

“Who summons the Star of Victory?” she repeated, the crackling of flames rumbling like distant thunder.

“I-I do?”

“And who are you, puny mortal?”

“Ah… I’m Amy? Blake’s friend…?”

“Gasp!” she actually said the word “gasp.” “AMY DALLON? You’re Blake’s best friend! Weeee!”

And then, it was all gone.

The pillar of azure fire that threatened to consume the rooftop vanished into cinders, scattering like leaves in the autumn breeze. And with it went Victini.

I was alone on the rooftop. I looked around in confusion. The twelve feet tall fire giant that loomed over me was nowhere to be found. Had it not been for the distinct hole in the clouds above, I would have thought I’d imagined it all.

“W-What the hell happened? Blake?” I asked.

Then, a cream-colored thing burst into life two inches from my face. “Boo!”

“Aahhh !!!!” I screamed, scrambling back.

“Oh! Hahahaha! Gotcha, Amy!”

Heart thumping in my throat, I glared at Blake’s little Tinkerbell. Victini, there was no way this was anyone else, was a foot tall. She looked like a mouse, or maybe a rabbit, with huge, V-shaped ears that I realized I’d mistaken for horns. She had little, feathered wings and enormous, sapphire-blue eyes that made her look disgustingly adorable.

She was also laughing at me. On her back, in midair, with her little paws wrapped around her tummy because fuck physics.

Then she dipped in the air, almost falling because she was laughing so hard. “Hahahaha! You should’ve seen your face! You were li-Oh crud! I almost fell, hehehe.”

I groaned. “Figures. You have the exact same sense of humor as Blake.”

“Uh-huh! It’s why we get along. Daddy told me I would have loads of fun watching Blake play and he was right. I mean, I do want to come out and play too of course.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Daddy? Who’s Daddy?”

“Arceus, duh. I mean, he’s the god of all pokemon so I guess he’s every pokemon’s daddy if you go far back enough, but us Legends are… special…”

“What?”

“Hold on. I’m still speaking human-common, right? Or English? That thing that Blake speaks now?” she muttered. Her eyes glowed briefly. “Yup. English. Bo-ring~ I mean, imagine having a language without telepathic impressions. How do you humans manage to express yourselves?”

“I think we manage…”

“So what’s the confusion then?”

“The confusion is that Blake apparently wasn’t fucking with me when he prayed to an imaginary alpaca-god!” I yelled.

“Hmm? Yeah, Arceus is very real. And he doesn’t like being compared to an alpaca so maybe don’t do that unless you want to be turned into a pokemon. I mean, he hasn’t done that in years, but you never know… I think the last kid who talked smack got turned into a kadabra…? Or was that supposed to be a blessing… That was way off in Kanto I think…”

My jaw dropped to the floor. There was so much to unpack in that and I was equipped to handle exactly none of it.

I took a deep breath. “Okay… One more time… Blake has more personalities in his power?”

“Nope. It’s just me for now. I mean, he can have more. He’s got a nice, roomy soul, fitting for a guy with a big heart, right?”

“What?”

Victini grabbed the tips of her ears and tugged them down past her eyes. “Ugh, I’m speaking English, right? Hello? Testing, testing, Celebi is a cheating snack-thief.”

“Yes, you’re speaking English,” I said, doing my best to stave off a headache. “I’m just… trying to process all of this.”

“Oh, okay. Take your time, Amy.” Then, she muttered under her breath, “Could’ve sworn humans were smarter than this…”

I resisted the urge to commit animal abuse, mostly because I was positive this pixie-mouse-thing was yet another triumvirate-class creature and she’d just mock my ineffectual attempts to hurt her.

I knew, in my head, but it was still a near thing.

“Arceus is the source of Blake’s powers. That’s why he’s not like other parahumans.” I received an encouraging nod. “And… Blake is a schizophrenic with different personalities growing out of his powers…”

“Ehh,” she shrugged, even that making her look adorable. “Think what you want. This is all stuff Blake should’ve told you anyway so take it up with him.”

“Oh, I will,” I muttered.

“Good. Now, we must address the important question.”

“What?”

Victini floated over to me until our noses were practically touching. She looked so serious like this. Her eyes were literal fireballs, staring intently into my soul. “Where can I find macarons?”

“... Huh?”

X

“It’s an important question. The most important question.”

“I really don’t think pastries are-”

Victini leaned in, making me arch backwards. As adorable as she was, there was something uncomfortably intense about her, like she was more in a way that I couldn’t put to words. “Macarons. Where.”

“Boardwalk?”

“Yes! Lets. GOO~~~” She squealed in delight, shooting off like a rocket. A corona of fire swirled around her. She looked like one of those atomic symbols as she raced around me. Then, she launched herself towards the sea, only to stop and dart back. “Wait… You can’t fly, can you?”

“Humans normally can’t,” I drawled.

“Oh, okay! That’s not a problem. Quick! Funnyhumansayswhat?”

“Wha-Aaahhhh!!!”

My reply turned into a panic shriek as I was launched at bone-breaking force into the air. Victini flew ahead of me, a shell of azure light shielding me from the force of our travel.

I could faintly hear her laughing giddily. It was infectious. I was convinced: This wasn’t Blake. He wasn’t fucking around with me; this was some new creature, a whole new personality. Blake was cheerful, but he wasn’t ever quite this expressive. In fact, I’d never met someone so delightfully happy before, almost deliriously happy.

I couldn’t help it. I found myself laughing along, my fear cast away as if scorched to nothing beneath the heat of Victini’s good cheer.

X

We stopped by the Buns ‘n’ Roses, a bakery hosted by a woman in her late twenties named Rose. There was also a huge, beefy guy who looked like a Greek god with his full beard and rippling muscles that were barely contained in his shirt.

“Macarons! I see macarons!” Victini cried, zipping off to the counter.

“Victini! Wait!” I yelled to no avail. Trying to stop the stupid pixie was like trying to stop Vicky from a shopping spree.

“I want that one, and that one, and that one, and-I’ll just take them all!”

I looked at the counter she was pointing at. Buns ‘n’ Roses was known for having some interesting flavors, from blueberry swirl to cream cheese and dark chocolate-orange. The display looked like a pastel rainbow.

Even as we watched, the macarons rose from the display case and stacked themselves in neat rows on the largest tray available. Rose, the owner, looked at the blatant use of powers, then at me before tapping the register meaningfully.

I had a feeling mom was about to question my spending habits.

I reached up and grabbed her tail-wing-thingies. To my relief, Victini allowed me to tug her down. I pressed her into my chest and stilled.

Eevee was my favorite pokemon. It was basically multiple flavors of stem cells in fluffy, foxy form. It represented endless potential. The sheer number of branching paths its development could take made my power squeal like a kid in a candy store. Or a Victini in a pastry shop.

But Victini? She was perfect. If eevee represented the beginning of the road, a seedling of infinite potential, Victini was the culmination of that journey, a being of genetic perfection. There was not a single flaw to be found in her genome. Never mind immortality, because I was quite sure that this little gremlin didn’t age, there was an endless gulf in what I saw and what I understood.

How did her fire work? What was he body made of to withstand and output blue fire? Every molecule, organic or otherwise, should break down under heat like that.

How did her brain process telekinesis at all without a corona? What was she if not a parahuman?

And where did all this energy come from???

I didn’t know.

My power didn’t know.

I now understood why Blake called Victini a Legend, capital “L” mandatory. This… This pixie was the nearest thing to divinity as physically possible.

And she just shoved a spit-drenched paw up my nose.

“Gah! What the hell!” I yelled, jumping back in alarm.

“Hello? You were zoning out,” she said nonchalantly, as if picking someone else’s nose was a perfectly fine thing to do.

“Don’t do that!”

“Well you shouldn’t ignore me then,” she pouted.

I stared at her, then at the tray that had been piled high with macarons. “No.”

“But Amy~”

“But nothing. I’m not buying you that many macarons.”

“P-Please?”

“No, stop doing the puppy eyes thing. You’re not that cute,” I said. I lied. I had to look away.

She smelled blood in the water. Climbing out of my arms, she hovered in front of my face. “I don’t believe you~ Please~”

“I don’t have that much money!”

“Awww…”

Victini slumped forward. She was the picture of abject dejection. An orphan whose puppy just died wouldn’t have looked any more pitiful.

Which was exactly what she wanted.

“Hey, for that show, I’ll pitch in,” another customer said.

“R-Really?”

“Sure, Menagerie.”

“I’m Victini!”

He looked at me in confusion. “Umm…”

“That’s Menagerie’s other form,” I sighed.

“Right.” Then, to everyone else in the room, “Anyone else want to pitch in for his macaron fund?”

I sorely underestimated how popular Menagerie was. It took no time at all for people to “donate to the starving mouse.” Soon, we had over $230, just for stupid sandwich cookies.

“Thank you~” Victini called as we flew away.

“You’re a manipulative little shit,” I told her.

“Ehehehehe.”

“Don’t laugh, you brat.”

“But, Amy, macarons are important.”

I sighed. “Mom’s gonna kill me.”

X

We sat on a nearby rooftop. I watched as Victini tore into the pile of sugary treats. She looked so disgustingly cute like this, nothing at all like the horrible gremlin I now knew her to be.

“You’re going to get fat, you know.”

“Lies, I can’t gain weight,” she chirped back at me.

“Ugh, life is so unfair. Some of us have to think about our figures.”

“It’s not that hard, you know, even for humans. Just ask Blake to teach you martial arts.”

“No thanks, I have enough on my plate without getting beat up by my fake boyfriend.”

“You two are weird.”

“How so?”

“How is someone your fake boyfriend? I mean, I’ve been around for like a thousand years and I’ve never seen anyone fake a relationship. Get lots of women? Sure, that could be fun if everyone likes each other. Get one fake one? Why?”

I carefully took the “thousand years” comment and stuffed it in the tiny drawer in my mind labeled “Blake’s shit.” Later… When I didn’t have a damn migraine.

“I don’t want my sister to set me up with guys, that’s all. And Blake is… nice to hang out with,” I said softly, a smile blooming unbidden.

“But humans only have one mate these days, right?”

“These days? Never mind. Yeah, usually. Poly relationships do happen, but they’re pretty unusual.”

“So what if Blake wants a girlfriend of his own?”

That took me aback. He was my best friend, someone who understood me, maybe even better than Vicky did. “I’m fine with it. We’ll break up, still be friends, and Blake can suck face with whoever.”

“Are you?” she asked knowingly, even as she stuffed her face with yet another macaron.

“I… Yes, yes I am. Blake’s my best friend. I should want him to be happy.”

“Hmm… If you say so~”

“I am!”

“You don’t need to convince me, Amy.”

I leaned back on my hands and looked up at the stars. I felt strange, having this conversation. I wasn’t usually the “pour my heart out” kind of girl. But there was something about Victini that oozed warmth and empathy that I couldn’t resist.

I sighed. “It’s complicated, okay? I want him to be happy, but… But what if he doesn’t have time for me anymore?”

“There isn’t some limit to the maximum number of friends you can have, Amy,” the little pixie said gently. “You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think humans make much ado about nothing. Not just picking mates, just life in general. So many things humans worry about aren’t really that important when you take a step back.”

“Maybe… I guess we’re all worrywarts,” I said with a dry laugh.

“Yup. Let go. Throw aside all those little worries and follow your heart,” she chirped. She placed a paw delicately over my breast. I could hear my own heartbeat, a deep thumping that beat intensely in the moment. “I think you’ve got a good heart. It’s such a warm little fire. Stoke it. Let it guide you and you won’t be disappointed.”

“I don’t think we’re talking about relationships anymore, are we?”

“No, I guess not.” Then, a tiny spark of blue light gathered in her paws. She spun like a baseball pitcher and chucked it into the air. A moment later, a dazzling display of fireworks spread across the night sky. “Humans or pokemon, it doesn’t matter in the end. As that silly grump likes to say, ‘It is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are.’”

“I-Is that right?”

“Yup. And Amy?”

“Yes?”

“I’m out of time, but for what it’s worth, I think you’ve doing great.”

With that, she vanished. There was no explosion, no spark to mark her passing. She was there one moment and gone the next.

I tried to look for her but I was soon distracted by what I felt inside.

Fire.

Once again, my world was fire.

My encounter with Victini had been brief, but she’d left me with a gift. Where Victini’s appearance had literally consumed me in flames, her parting now left me feeling hot inside. There was a deep warmth in my chest, a blooming heat that felt so foreign yet familiar.

This was me, a part of me that had awakened with the Legend’s touch.

Was… Was this how Blake saw the world?

I stood there on that rooftop for several minutes, simply marveling at the sensation. This well of heat within me, I couldn’t begin to describe it. The raw potential, the hope for something more.

‘This is trust,’ I realized. ‘Victini placed her trust in me.’

Then, I looked around and realized the little gremlin was nowhere to be found. She’d ditched me. On a rooftop.

“Fuck!” I swore. I pulled out my phone and dialed my sister. “Hey, Vicky? I need a ride…”

Author’s Note

I decided to skip most of the chat with the detectives. It’s not worth rehashing Taylor’s relationship with Emma. Would you believe that this whole thing started as Blake wanting to have Taylor ride a heracross around the city?

Amy has aura now. What does this mean? Who knows?