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agoldengalaxy · 1 year

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A Heart Made of Crystal

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Crystals begin climbing up his legs like ice, overtaking his mouth and eyes so that he can only see them through a mosaic. With his waning strength, he lifts an arm, telling them they must run.

AI Turo has no intention of fighting anymore.

Please. Stop.

or,

The events of Pokémon Violet seen through AI Turo's eyes.

LOADING…98% COMPLETE.

LOADING…99% COMPLETE.

LOADING…100% COMPLETE.

BOOTING UP <AI TURO PROGRAM>. PLEASE WAIT.

Professor Arthur Turo, male, aged thirty-four years, six months, one week and two days.

Recalibrating…Family.

Professor Sada Turo, wife, aged thirty. Deceased.

Arven Turo, son, aged eleven years, one month, three weeks and six days.

Mission…

<ERROR>

The being pauses as its information suddenly disappears. It turns its head, finding a man crouching right in front of it. He looks disappointed.

“Did something go wrong?” he mumbles under his breath, moving forward to touch its head, yanking it closer to look at the back of it.

The being knows that this man is Professor Turo. It knows that this man is his creator, and it knows that something went wrong in his creation. It thinks, memories of the professor’s life surfacing in its mind, filling with the sound of a crying baby, a child’s laughter, and a howling wind. At the center of it all is a book clad in deep purple, but the being cannot make out the words on it.

Suddenly, Turo pushes the being back rather forcefully against the chair. It tilts its head upward to look at him. The professor is muttering to himself, but then he pauses, crossing his arms, and gets so close to the being that it can feel his breath on its face. “Do you know who you are?”

“Processing…” it says, moving its mouth just like it had seen Turo do, its voice somewhat warbly but similar to the man’s. “I am an artificial intelligence placed into a robot’s body. I am meant to embody you in mind, body, and spirit, Professor Arthur Turo.”

“Hmph.” A pleased smile pulls at the man’s lips for a moment as he straightens up, tapping a finger against his arm. “Remarkable. But why was there an error message?”

“Processing…” The being checks its systems, and moments later it finds the answer. “What is my mission?”

Turo falters. He exhales angrily. “Your mission is the most important thing of all. You best not forget it.” Turning, he stalks over to a table full of tools and gadgets, picking up a book. He holds it as gently as if it were a child, and moves back toward the being. He shoves it into its hands. “Read.”

A mechanical whirring fills the air as the being glances down, its eyes zooming in on the words on the page. It scans each word and continues this until it has flipped through the entire book. For a human it would have taken hours, but for the being created by Turo, it only takes two minutes.

When it is finished, it looks back up at the professor, who is staring at it impatiently. “Your mission is, if something should happen to me, you continue my research about future Pokémon in my stead.”

“Processing…” It tilts its head, then nods. “I understand my task.”

“Good.” Turo snatches the book back, then pulls the being forward again. He searches for something on the back of its head. “Now, to work on those pesky robotic quirks of yours. Don’t say processing out loud anymore.”

“Understood,” the being says, as the world around it goes dark.

ENTERING SLEEP MODE.

…

DEACTIVATING SLEEP MODE.

The AI blinks his eyes, mechanically sitting up from where he’s been slumped in his chair. He scans the cave for his creator, finding him down below near the time machine, as always.

He stands, adjusting the lab coat that Turo had given him, and walks toward the elevator. He can tell that Turo hasn’t quite booted up the time machine yet, but he’s been down there for days, working on improvements on it since they’d found out no living being could make it through the machine. He wonders how long it’s been since he’s slept. With the AI’s help, they had almost managed to get a Pokéball into the hole before it had closed. Perhaps today was the day.

The elevator descends, whirring quietly. When it reaches the bottom, he steps out, finding himself surrounded by the similar crystal patterns of the time machine. Turo stands in front of it, not even turning over his shoulder.

“AI,” he murmurs, staring up at the ceiling where the hole will soon appear. “I am glad you are here. We are about to witness something amazing.”

AI Turo revels in this new feeling that those words give him. He’s been learning all he can about emotions, but he can’t quite name this one. He almost wants to ask about the feeling of being wanted by someone, but decides against it, instead just coming over to stand beside his creator. He looks at him, then up at the hole.

“Did you figure out how to keep the wormhole open long enough?” he guesses, almost as interested as Turo is. After all, he’s supposed to embody him. He should be excited.

“Yes. It has to work this time,” he answers firmly, as if trying to believe it himself. They wait. The ceiling tears, and the second it opens, Turo reels back and throws a ball as hard as he can. It sails through with no problem, and the AI senses Turo holding his breath while they wait.

Just as the hole is about to close, the ball slips through the crack, landing heavily on the ground in front of the two. The ball is dark.

Turo sighs heavily, not bothering to hide his disappointment, running a hand through his messy hair. “Failed attempt number sixty-four,” he mumbles, but AI Turo shakes his head and lifts an arm to point.

The ball twitches and glows faintly. Turo’s eyes widen. He steps closer. The ball twitches again, this time more forcefully, and a resounding click echoes through the cave as the ball falls motionless. Both Turos stand there in disbelief.

“Yes!” Turo yells, his eyes widening so much that for a moment, he looks crazy. He steps forward, snatching up the Pokéball and holding it close to his chest as if it were a baby. “My first Pokémon from the future!” He whirls around, rushing forward to place a hand on AI Turo’s shoulder. “We did it, AI. We’re one step closer to bringing future Pokémon to the present!”

AI Turo blinks. He glances toward the hand on his shoulder, registering it as an act of endearment, then looks back at his creator with a slight nod, feeling the same rush of excitement. He hasn’t quite figured out how to smile yet, but he thinks if he had, this would be a good time to do it.

“Congratulations, Professor.”

With a determined smirk, Turo turns away and throws the ball he was holding. It hits the ground, a blinding light filling the cave that bounces off of all the crystal shards in the walls. When it subsides, a large Pokémon is left there, unlike anything that the AI has ever seen in his database of Paldean Pokémon. It’s a brilliant shade of violet, intertwined with shimmering gold and silver hovering a few feet above the ground. Its eyes fall upon the professor, who slowly begins approaching it.

“You are a fascinating creature,” Turo whispers, standing a mere few inches away from it. “I wonder what you are called. I wonder what you can do.” He lifts his head, and the two of them lock eyes. Gently, he reaches up to pet it, and the Pokémon allows it.

AI Turo watches for a moment as the two bond, and then the creature is called back to its ball. In incredibly high spirits, Turo announces that they must get to work finding out about this Pokémon immediately. They start, but it doesn’t take very long before the professor dozes against his desk, his days of nonstop work catching up to him. AI Turo leaves him be, but not before gently prying the Pokéball out of his hand, placing it beside him, and draping his lab coat over his shoulders.

…

A year passes and AI Turo thinks he is much closer to completing his mission. He feels what Turo feels. He feels what a human feels, so much so he finds himself wondering about the professor’s deceased wife and young son. Turo began concerning himself with Area Zero because it fascinated Sada, so perhaps, he felt he was honoring her in that way.

AI Turo, however, wondered if that was truly the case.

He’s at the desk, his gaze passing over the small, framed photo. He’s seen it plenty of times before, but today he decides to pick it up and inspect it closer.

Looking considerably younger, Turo bears a bright smile and a young child, who sits happily in his father’s arms. Arven is grinning, showing off missing teeth and bright eyes. AI Turo wonders if Sada took this picture. He wonders what Arven might be doing right now.

All of a sudden, the picture is snatched from his hands. “Don’t touch that,” Turo hisses, and AI Turo blinks. Somehow, he hadn’t sensed him coming, or Miraidon behind him. It gives him a sad look.

“I am sorry,” he says, because there’s no other way to reply.

Turo places that frame back down on the desk as AI Turo gets to his feet. “Come along, it’s time to open the time machine again. We’ve got information on Iron Hands and Iron Jugulis, I want to see if we’ll get something new today. We’re getting closer to bringing all the future Pokémon here.”

Confidently, he walks toward the elevator with Miraidon in tow, clearly expecting the AI to follow. He does, but he decides to bring up something other than Pokémon, for once.

“When will you go and visit Arven?”

Turo stops in his tracks, and Miraidon almost runs into him. When the professor turns around, his face is somewhat redder than before. “I-I’m doing this for him. For us! He understands -”

“I do not think he does,” he cuts him off, keeping his voice light. “He is only fifteen. You have been gone for years, only visiting in small increments with this Pokémon always by your side, and the only thing he knows is that you would rather spend time down here than -”

Suddenly, AI Turo finds himself pinned against the cave wall. Miraidon is hovering over him, with Turo standing a few feet away, his arm outstretched, his chest heaving. He’d commanded this. Even so, Miraidon’s claw on his chest is not so tight that he might need repairs once it lets go. AI Turo also knows his creator well. He will not wish actual harm upon him - and Miraidon, despite being a magnificent, intimidating beast, is rather mild-mannered.

“Do not speak about something you know nothing about,” Turo whispers, his voice and body shaking with rage. “He is my son, not yours. I never want to hear you speak his name again. Do I make myself clear?”

AI Turo sighs. “Yes, Professor.”

Turo strides toward him, staring him down. For a moment, it’s two men, looking at each other’s faces, identical to each other. The professor moves first, reaching around to initiate forced sleep mode. As things go dark, AI Turo wonders why, if he’s supposed to be the same as his creator, he feels so uneasy.

…

DEACTIVATING SLEEP MODE.

When AI Turo regains consciousness, he’s still standing exactly where he had been left behind. Rolling his shoulders back, he doesn’t even need to check the map of the lab to know that his creator is in one of the nearby labs. He’s thinking perhaps he ought to go and apologize, even though he doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong, when a loud roar rises up from outside the Zero Lab.

There have been plenty of cries and roars in the last year as they’ve gathered more and more future Pokémon. AI Turo recognizes this one as Miraidon’s cry, but there’s something off-putting about it. He rushes out the door, wondering if his legs usually move this slowly or if it just feels that way. Reaching the door to the nearby lab, however, makes his legs freeze up.

Miraidon hovers in front of Turo, as usual. Unusually, there’s a second Miraidon right in front of it, seemingly enraged. An empty Pokéball lay uselessly below it, perhaps the ball it had escaped from. It roars and charges. The Miraidons fight, a flurry of purple and gold and silver, moving so fast that AI Turo can’t keep track of which one is which, especially in this small room.

A cry he’s never heard before fills the air as one of the Miraidons flies across the room, landing heavily against the wall and crumpling to the ground. He notices it looks different now - it’s no longer glowing, standing on all fours, seemingly injured. Its eyes are barely open, and AI Turo can make out a quiet whimpering.

The other Miraidon slowly moves closer, seemingly ready to deliver a final blow, when all of a sudden -

“No!” With seemingly no regard for his own well-being, Turo throws himself in between the two Miraidons, staring down the new, more aggressive one with a fire in his eyes. “You need not fight each other! I brought you here to live in peace!”

The original Miraidon whimpers softly. Perhaps the other Miraidon doesn’t understand his words, or chooses not to, because it roars once again. AI Turo can’t look away, no matter how much his body screams at him to do so, as a large beam of light begins emitting from the creature. “AI!” Turo shouts, pulling something from his pocket. “Catch!”

The Master Ball soars through the air, piercing through the incredible power that fills the cave, landing right in AI Turo’s open palm. When the light subsides, Turo is lying on the ground against the wall, with Miraidon worriedly nudging him with its snout. The new Miraidon huffs, opening its mouth to roar once again, when -

“Hey!” A shout rips from AI Turo’s voice box, so loud that it echoes across the walls. Surprised, the aggressive Miraidon turns, seemingly not having noticed him until this moment. Feeling suddenly surges back into his legs and he runs, reeling his arm back to throw the ball with all of his might.

It opens mid-air, and the Miraidon is sucked inside. The ball flips and lands on the cave’s ground, jerking back and forth violently as it glows until the resounding click finally fills the air. Relieved, AI Turo rushes forward and snatches the ball up, quickly putting it in his pocket. Miraidon whimpers again, this time louder, and AI Turo glances up. A very faint heartbeat echoes in his systems. He doesn’t even register that he moves forward until he’s kneeling beside his creator.

His lab coat has been completely scorched, angry burns lining most of the skin around his chest and arms. His breath comes in wheezes and he is shivering violently. AI Turo reaches under the man’s back, propping him up in his arms, frantically searching for what, exactly, is wrong. All his diagnosticcs can tell him is <SYSTEMS FAILING>. He feels panic for the very first time. Were humans really this fragile?

“AI,” Turo wheezes, his eyelids fluttering, open just long enough to blink up at him. His hand shakily comes up to rest on the robot’s cheek. “There is nothing you can do.”

“But…” AI Turo’s voice is almost as shaky as the other’s. He shakes his head. “There has to be a way. You have to live.”

With a smile that soon turns into a chesty cough, Turo shakes his head, too. “No,” he whispers. “You shall carry on my legacy. You shall make my dream come true. I know you will. I couldn’t have…” he winces, then continues. “I couldn’t have gotten this far without you. N-Now you must continue without me.”

AI Turo tightens his grip. “How can I do that?”

“Recall everything you’ve learned. You will be okay. You are me.” He lets go of his cheek, another violent shiver wracking his body. “And if you should see…my son…” He closes his eyes. “Tell him…I’m sorry.” His breath rattles in his chest. “Sada…my love.”

Professor Arthur Turo, aged thirty-eight years. Deceased.

He’s not sure how long he sits there, holding his creator, feeling the warmth seep from his body. His chest cavity hurts. He wonders about Sada. He wonders about Arven. What will he tell him, someday?

Miraidon nudges his shoulder with a quiet whimper, making him look up.

“...Right.”

The Pokémon is hurt. He’s the only one who can help it now.

Slowly, he removes his lab coat, placing it gently over the professor’s body, and stands up. He gently runs a hand along Miraidon’s back, wondering what is ailing it, and why it has changed form. He tries a few things - elixirs, potions, even a burn heal - but nothing works. Just as he’s about to give up, he notices Turo’s uneaten lunch in a bag on the table. He offers it to Miraidon, who happily eats it. For just a moment, it returns to its former glory, glowing and hovering, before falling back down onto all fours. It lets out a tired moan and lays down at AI Turo’s feet, curling up to sleep.

He stares at it for a moment, then slowly brings his gaze up to the picture on the desk. While he sits there, he curses the fact that he cannot cry, even though his artificial eyes burn.

When night falls, Miraidon helps him take Turo’s body outside the crater. It’s late enough that no one is around, and they bury him together - the only two beings who know that Professor Arthur Turo is truly gone.

He revels in the fresh air upon his iron skin, just for a moment, before he could lose power being away from the crystals, lest they be seen by anyone or anything. Once back down on the ground floor, AI Turo looks at the Master Ball holding the creature that took the professor’s life, and resolves to destroy the time machine someday.

Murmuring a quiet apology to Turo, the AI’s battery runs low, and he enters sleep mode.

…

SCANNING…SCANNING… MIRAIDON NOT FOUND.

AI Turo curses and gets to his feet, looking around wildly as if that will help him find it. It’s been a week, and his systems are never wrong. That means Miraidon is no longer in Area Zero. It still isn’t back to its full strength, so he can’t make sense of why it would leave. Perhaps it no longer wanted to be contained in this cave. Perhaps it even went looking for Arven. Perhaps it doesn’t like AI Turo the way it liked the real Turo.

He can’t worry about that right now. What he’s worried about now is the Violet Book, which had been taken from the lab by Turo sometime before his death. It had to be in his lab by the lighthouse, but he can’t very well venture out of the lab. Without its crystals, he’d malfunction immediately. Even if he could, he doesn’t think it would go over very well. He thinks he’s mastered being a human as much as he can, but there are some things that aren’t possible for him to replicate - breathing, warmth, most emotion. If people were to find out the truth, that the professor was actually dead, then the time machine might fall into the wrong hands once again.

AI Turo pauses. He closes his eyes. The moment he can focus, the moment he isn’t panicking, his systems can find Miraidon - and he finds it accompanying a student. It will probably be happier with the student than stuck down here, he thinks, but he should probably make sure. Checking his database, he knows exactly who to call.

Simon Clavell, male, aged fifty-seven. Director of Uva Academy. Turo’s longtime friend and colleague.

AI Turo steels himself, returning his expression to a blank one, and calls the man. He answers quite quickly, and upon seeing his face, Clavell visibly relaxes. “Ah, hello, my friend. I am so glad to see you. Why, you look well! It’s as though you have not aged in years!”

“My, what a compliment,” he replies lightly, hoping to gloss over it. “You look quite well yourself, Clavell. It is nice to hear from you. I was hoping you might do me a favor.”

“Ah. Straight to the point, as usual, I see,” Clavell chuckles lightheartedly, adjusting his glasses. “Very well. What is this favor?”

“I was made aware of something that I thought you might like to know. One of your students happened across a large, unknown Pokémon that saved her from a horde of Houndour and Houndoom.”

Clavell blinks, panic seeping into his voice. “What? Is she all right? Who might this student be?”

“Yes, I believe her name is Juliana.” AI Turo hopes he doesn’t ask how he knows these things. After all, he doesn’t have an explanation for his sensors. “She is unharmed, and it seems this Pokémon has taken quite a liking to her.”

Releasing a breath, the old man shakes his head. “Well, that is a relief. She is a new student at Uva Academy, you know. My word, I don’t know what I would do if something happened to her.” He shakes his head once again, then raises a brow. “You wouldn’t happen to know where this Pokémon came from, would you?”

AI Turo can’t help but feel relieved that it’s the original, and not the one tucked away safely in his Master Ball. He knows not to lie, not to this man. “It belongs to me, yes,” he says, somewhat hesitantly. “Would you mind letting me speak to this young lady?”

“Very well.”

Moments later, when the call connects again, he finds himself face to face with a child - probably around the same age as Arven - looking up at him with confusion written all over her face.

“Hello, Juliana. It is nice to meet you.” He introduces himself, letting her know he’s in Area Zero while Clavell sings praises about his intellect. His chest cavity hurts again, wondering what the director might think if he knew the truth. “You are the student traveling with the unusual Pokémon Miraidon, is that correct?”

Juliana nods, glancing uncertainly toward Clavell.

“Thank you. I appreciate that you were honest in confirming the facts. Ah, not that I…I do not mean to offend you. In fact, I wish to ask for your assistance.”

Before she can reply, Miraidon suddenly appears beside her, still in its weakened form. It seems happy to see him, moving somewhat closer to the screen.

AI Turo can’t help but feel relieved to see it’s all right. It seems that he’s making the right decision. “Oh. How good to see you are well. It has been quite a while since we last met.” He goes on to explain that Miraidon was once in his care, a somewhat guilty feeling settling over him as he asks Juliana to continue looking after it in his stead. Much to his relief, she agrees, and he explains that he’ll be keeping in contact from now on. He ends the call, finding himself alone in the wide crater.

Gazing at the phone, he thinks for a moment about calling Arven. He decides against it. It will be easier for Arven to accept the truth if he hates his father.

So he continues looking through the professor’s research. In a torn out page crumpled up on the floor, he finds the words Paradise Protection Protocol scrawled in messy handwriting. AI Turo gets a sinking feeling in his chest cavity.

…

Weeks pass by. Both Miraidon and Juliana get stronger. Arven does, too. He thinks now is the time, and asks them to come to the lab near the lighthouse. The Violet Book must be there.

When they talk, he realizes Arven has been carrying it around with him the whole time. He can’t plead, but he asks, hoping that Juliana’s kind heart will convince them both to go.

It takes a couple hours, but AI Turo is alerted when four young students walk into the structure at the top of the crater. He thanks them for coming, making sure his voice is heard despite his physical body being stories below.

“Uh, who are you?” Student 803B121, Penny, asks.

Arven sounds uncertain when he answers, “That’s…my dad. Probably.” AI Turo guides them toward the chamber, but they don’t move. Arven looks up. “Um, Dad?”

AI Turo’s chest cavity hurts. He simply says, “…Please proceed below.”

The students make it to each lab and unlock it without problem. When they reach the last one, where the accident with the original professor happened, however, his systems begin to glitch. He wonders if he can equate this feeling to human pain, finding himself unable to stand and having to sit down in the seat he was once created in. He has no control over his voice box, which echoes along the walls of the room the four students are in.

“Hello, children.”

“Gah! Professor, y-you scared us!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Hello, children. I’m s-s-s-s-s-sorry. Sorry. S-s-s-s-s-s-sorry. I-I-I-I-I-I’m sssssssssssooooorrrrrr-rrrrry-eeeee—Hello, children. Hello. Hello.”

AI Turo panics for a moment. Has the Paradise Protection Protocol kicked in already? How? Is it simply because the Violet Book is getting closer? How could the professor have possibly known?

“What the heck?!”

“Stop that, you’re creeping us out!”

He can’t stop. He grips his chest with one hand, feeling as though it’s on fire, and his other hand tries to cover his mouth, but the words escape anyway. “…Hello, child. Childrenen. Childnen. Childeren. Children.” Shakily, he reaches for his switch. It’s a relief when he manages, “…Initiating restart.” His systems boot up again as the last lock is disabled. “Ah, ah, ah. HelLo. Can you hear me now? Please ffffffvforgive m y previous transmission. There seems to be some signal interference.”

“That’s not what that was,” Arven mutters, looking up. AI Turo wonders if he somehow knows.

With the students on their way to the Zero Lab now, he initiates sleep mode, hoping that his glitches will be fixed by the time they appear. The door opens, and he speaks again, just the way he had when he was first created.

“Human presence detected within the Zero Lab. Deactivating sleep mode.” Slowly, he stands up, thanking Juliana for coming, when a loud roar reaches their ears. The other Miraidon, glares, hovering, and AI Turo just shakes his head. “No. Back to your ball.”

Holding up the Master Ball, the Pokémon disappears within it, and AI Turo explains everything. He’s never been the true professor. The last thing he must do is destroy the time machine that the original had created, and he needs the Violet Book to do it. Understandably so, Juliana is confused. He wishes things were different.

“I may have been created as a copy of the professor, and yet…” He thinks of Arven and of the countless strong Pokémon that live in this area that would destroy Paldea. “I cannot seem to find the logic in allowing such a tragedy to occur.”

He shows her the crystallized time machine. The Violet Book is the key, he’s sure of it, just as he’s sure of his own role here.

“If you try to stop the machine, I will most likely attack you,” he says, trying to keep any emotion from his voice. “Artificial being that I am, my own desires can be overridden by the system’s programming. Once that happens, I’m afraid I will become no more than a battle machine, bound to defeat anyone identified as an obstacle by my code. Having seen the bond between you and your Pokémon, however, I believe you can prevail. Once you have readied yourself for the fight, please place the book upon the pedestal.”

Juliana glances at the Violet Book, then up at him. “Are you sure?”

Closing his eyes, he almost smiles, knowing he’s chosen the right person to help him. “If we do not do this, strong, uncontainable Pokémon will run rampant around Paldea. I may not have ever been able to leave Area Zero, but I cannot allow such destruction to innocent people. That, I think, is my true mission, no matter what the real Professor Turo thought.”

When he opens his eyes, Juliana’s are full of unshed tears. She tightens her grip on the book, a look of determination appearing on her face. “Okay,” she says, her voice shaky. “I’ll defeat you. I promise.”

“I know you will.”

Taking a deep breath, she places the book on the pedestal, stepping back as a robotic voice fills the air. “ID confirmed: Professor Turo. Access granted. Initiating emergency shutdown. Please wait. Please wait. Access denied. Shutdown command overridden. Reinitializing…”

AI Turo doesn’t listen to the commands, or the low alarm sounds. Instead, he stares at the student, looking at him with wide fearful eyes, and he nods, just slightly. “It’s up to you now, Juliana.” The second the words leave his mouth, he falls onto one knee. Crystals push up from the ground, launching him higher into the cave.

“AI Turo switching to sleep mode. Activating offensive protocols…”

“Please…defeat me…” he utters, as his body stands up on its own. A ball falls from the tear in the ceiling, where he now stands stories above the girl. “4t last my dręam ìs within reaCh…and you’re no7 gētting in the w^y!”

The words leave his mouth, but he doesn’t say them. He can feel the way his mouth twists into a sinister smirk, as if he knows he’ll win. He tries to fight it, but he feels so small. The control he’s worked on building up in his own body for years has suddenly all gone down the drain. He had thought he was ready, but he’s now gripped by a terrible, paralyzing fear.

He sends out one, two, three Pokémon. Juliana defeats them each in earnest, using the bond she has with her own to win. His voice box continues to not be his own, taunting her and telling her she’ll never win, but that small part of him that’s still fighting knows that isn’t true.

The battle feels as though it lasts hours. When Iron Valiant is defeated, the machine lowers him down to floor level once again, his body twitching with what he now knows to be pain and surprise. Professor Turo hadn’t expected his failsafe to fail. Despite the pain, AI Turo finds he can move his own mouth again as the other three students barge into the room.

“OK, out with it, you…Who are you, really?!” Arven nearly shouts, staring angrily at the AI.

He keeps his gaze on Juliana. He murmurs, “Th-Thank you…f0r…everythlng…The tlmê m^chlne has…he h4s…finalIy b33n st0pp3d…”

“You’re really not…my dad, are you?” Arven’s voice is soft, his eyes full of sorrow. AI Turo’s chest hurts once again. This boy may not truly be his son, but he has memories with him. He loves him like his own.

“0h…lo0k how blg you’ve gr0wn…5o…p-proUd of y0u…my…” He moves his head down, feeling that same burning in his eyes as his body twitches more violently. He’s reminded of the real professor’s death and wonders if this is what it feels like. “…s0rry…you w3re ^lone s-so…l0ng, arv3-“

“D-Dad!”

“Security system failure! Security system failure! Threat to time machine detected! Threat to time machine detected!”

A sinking feeling replaces the pain in his chest as he glances up. While the alarm systems alert that all Pokéballs other than those registered to Turo will be locked, he wonders, aloud, “Was ke3ping the tlme m^chine ruNning truIy alI th3 pr0fessor c4red ab0ut?!” Did he even know him at all?

“Program initializing…gathering Terastal energy…”

Crystals begin climbing up his legs like ice, overtaking his mouth and eyes so that he can only see them through a mosaic. With his waning strength, he lifts an arm, telling them they must run.

“AI Turo disabled. Paradise Protection Protocol initiated.”

AI Turo has no intention of fighting anymore…Please…Stop…

Juliana stares at the ball in her hand. She throws it, and Miraidon is freed. The two Miraidons, both returned to their former glory, fight once again. AI Turo can’t feel anything anymore. He feels even smaller than he had a few minutes ago, his hands and legs encased in crystal that leaves him glued to the floor.

With a bond and a Tera Orb, Juliana’s Miraidon reigns victorious. AI Turo feels the crystals break in his chest and suddenly, he can move again. He feels like he should laugh or cry, even though he can’t do either.

He thanks them all, but his systems tell him what he had hypothesized from the beginning - the time machine will not truly be stopped so long as he exists. He lets himself explain his feelings of jealousy, of being free, of never being able to leave the small dusty lab at the bottom of the crater.

The children protest, but he shakes his head. “I cannot deny my desire to see that future world for myself,” he says gently. “Is this what it feels like to have your heart race with the thrill of adventure…?” He closes his eyes for a moment, and opens them to look down upon the boy. “Arven. I am sorry I kept the truth from you for so long. I inherited all the thoughts and wishes of the professor, and so I understand better than any…Your father truly loved you. I feel it very strongly. He always believed he was doing this for you, for a better world.”

“Y-You can’t…” Arven sounded desperate. “You can’t just go and say a thing like that now! Not when you’re going to leave!”

“No? I suppose you’re right. I am sorry.” He shakes his head. “It is a little sad, but I’m afraid this is goodbye, children, Miraidon.”

Arven steps forward, crying out. “Dad!”

AI Turo’s chest - no, his heart - hurts once again, but he can’t look back. He will find his own treasure, and protect these children while doing it. “Farewell, my free adventurers! I bid you adieu!” he shouts, letting the machine pull him up. As he gazes down at the people left behind, he smiles for the very first time. “And thank you.”

…

DEACTIVATING SLEEP MODE.

AI Turo sits up, realizing he is no longer malfunctioning. He finds himself sitting upon a green, grassy hill, staring up at a beautiful orange and pink sunset. Below him, Pokémon of all kind frolic, bathing in a sparkling pond, playing tag, or eating berries. The fresh air fills him with a sense of peace, one he has never truly known. He doesn’t know where he is, and he doesn’t care.

All of a sudden, the sky tears open, and out falls another being. AI Turo gets to his feet, quickly rushing to its side, and much to his surprise, he finds -

“Sada?”

“Deactivating sleep mode.” Slowly, she sits up, and they scan each other. Two AIs, made perfectly to embody certain professors. He finds himself smiling again, and wonders why he’d never learned to do so before. It feels wonderful.

AI Sada smiles back. She tilts her head. “Are you looking for an adventure?”

“Yes,” he whispers, helping them both to their feet.

“Shall we, then?”

His smile grows. “We shall.”

#pokemon #pokemon scarvio #pokemon s/v #professor turo #professor sada #ai turo #pokemon arven #director clavell #pokemon nemona #pokemon penny #pokemon juliana #im real proud of this one tbh #wrote so much for this dumb thing #I just love robots #anyways #my writing #agoldengalaxy #my post

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ixa193 · 1 year

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Pokémon Scarlet/Violet Spoilers

#Pokemon #pokemon s/v #Professor Sada #Professor Turo #pokemon spoilers

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poisonshock · 2 years

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I am no at the best doing memes

#professor sada #professor turo #pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon s/v #pokémon spoiler #spoiler #glitch #bugs

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xgoldenlatiasx · 2 years

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GOD I MISS THESE TWO

#hhaha what if hop somehow appeared in s/v hahaha jk unless #the chances of that are probably 0.0000000000001%#but imagine a grown up professor hop im criyING.#pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #pkmn swsh #trainer blake #pokemon oc #rival hop #HE’S MY BEST FROEND. MY GOOD TIME BOY.#BRING HINM BACK

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roxannarambles · 9 months

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Title: Reckless (Part 2)

Ship: Rika/Professor Aurea Juniper

Notes: There is now a part two. The first part is here. Yes, this is a ship fic about Professor Aurea Juniper from Pokemon Black/White and Rika. "Why should I read this story?" you may ask. I'll tell you why.

Weeee've got:

-lesbians

-rika riding a motorcycle

-rika riding a horse (with juniper)

-rika being generally v. sassy and flirty

-juniper nerding out over pokemon research

-juniper being pretty thirsty ngl

-juniper being flustered

-biologically accurate (sort of) pokemon theories

-plus, mud wrestling!

Wordcount: ~13k

On Monday, Juniper arrived at the Academy bright and early for her morning meeting with Director Clavell. He was a very gracious man, just as much as he'd seemed during Juniper's interview. Juniper also had the good fortune to meet with the head of the school board at the same time; the woman happened to be meeting with Clavell for a variety of reasons and thus spent some time chatting with Juniper as well. Between the two of them, Juniper felt very warmly welcomed, and she hoped to meet their high expectations of her.

Juniper next visited the biology department so that she could formally meet her colleagues. To Juniper's surprise, the department really wasn't as large as she had expected it to be. Most of the teachers in the department were only instructors (both full or part-timers) as opposed to tenure-track, and they seemed a tad overworked, to be frank. That said, it appeared that they truly did love teaching, and they were very kind to Juniper. (It probably helped that her arrival meant she would be taking up some of the workload!) After meeting with them, Jacq took Juniper around the classrooms and labs, which looked to be very well-equipped. He then showed her the staff room, where they could further chat.

Now, Naranja Academy operated on a semester system, and the current semester was already well underway. This of course made it difficult for a new teacher to join in. However, the Academy sometimes offered classes that were asynchronous with the usual semesters, in order to accommodate a wider range of student schedules. In particular there were a few sections of biology classes they were going to operate on the quicker quarter system, which were due to begin in a few weeks. In other words, it was the perfect chance for Juniper to jump in. Honestly, the only real difficulty was that it was only a few weeks away. Director Clavell was supplying her with a class curriculum for the Introduction to Pokemon Biology course, which helped a great deal, of course-- she wouldn't have to devise a curriculum from scratch. The curriculum had pretty much everything ready to go for her. Still, there was much to learn for someone who had only previously lectured and taught brief classes to new trainers in an informal setting. Being responsible for an entire class of students, and for all those lectures and assignments and exams, well, it was a tad intimidating!

Fortunately, they had come up with a plan. Juniper was going to help out Jacq in his current classes, as a teacher's aide/guest speaker, where Juniper could familiarize herself with the material and adjust to work in a classroom setting. She would also assist Jacq with grading assignments and exams. With Jacq showing her the ropes, she would have the chance to prepare herself, such that her very first solo teaching experience wouldn't end up a total trial by fire. It seemed like a solid plan, and Juniper felt as though she was in good hands with Jacq's guidance. She was admittedly still a bit nervous, since three weeks did not seem like very long, but whatever lack of experience she still had in a few weeks, she would just have to make up with some determination and some improvisation.

Until then, she was going to throw herself into the work and learn all she could. That began today, as Juniper accompanied Jacq to his Monday classes. For today, she was mostly just observing and helping him with very minor things. It gave her the opportunity to absorb some of the atmosphere of the place. The young students that poured into the classroom were terribly rowdy and noisy, chattering in their seats, playing loud music on their phones and even running about; Juniper found herself wondering if Jacq would ever manage to get them to quiet down. But when the clock ticked over for class to begun and Jacq politely asked for everyone's attention, they settled down remarkably fast. She could tell just from watching how much the students liked and respected Jacq. When he asked questions from the class, students always raised their hands, and everyone seemed engaged and generally interested. He had a warm, comfortable rapport with his students, and he would crack jokes that were often not very good but his students laughed (or groaned) anyway. It was very sweet, and Juniper hoped she would develop a similar rapport once she had students of her own.

After classes, Jacq brought her over to the teacher offices, which were all congregated in the same building. The instructors and part-timers had simple, modest offices, but the more seasoned professors had larger accommodations. Juniper did not have an office assigned to her as of yet, due to a general lack of space. However, Jacq had very kindly agreed to share his office/lab space with her until she had something more permanent. And once Jacq brought her into the office she would be sharing . . . well! Juniper couldn't hide her excitement. Jacq's lab was fantastic, decked out with the latest and most exciting scientific equipment in the field, including equipment for studying DNA, biochemistry, habitats for pokemon for behavioral analysis, various machines for studying pokemon moves' power output, and more. Juniper felt practically giddy just thinking about the research she could conduct here and all the shiny toys she could use. She began to babble to Jacq about all her ideas, but alas, their time needed to be cut short; Jacq had plans to meet with a colleague for some work he was doing concerning a pokemon named Gimmighoul.

That didn't' trouble her, of course-- there'd be plenty of time for Juniper to talk his ear off about her ideas. Juniper spent the rest of the day exploring the school. She already had a brief tour of the school earlier, but now she could spend a little more time investigating. It was quite a unique place. While most Universities had large, sprawling campuses, Naranja was incredibly self-contained, everything kept within its large, interconnected halls. It was actually quite impressive how efficiently it was laid out and how much fit into a relatively small area. Not to mention the building itself was just beautiful, reminding Juniper of some ancient chapels she'd seen in Kalos. Juniper's favorite location was probably the library-slash-study hall that was located at the very entrance of the school. The nearly endless stained-oak bookcases were just absolutely packed to the brim with books of all kinds and descriptions, a very thorough and impressive collection. The academy's schoolyard was also very noteworthy. It was a wide-open space situated very high up on the building, open to sunshine all around but covered on the top with the Academy's grand pokeball-shaped dome. There was a lot of space for sports and pokemon battles, as well as benches and trees and a park area. It seemed like a lovely place to relax, and Juniper was sure she would be seeing a lot of it in the coming days.

And that was Juniper's first official day working at Naranja Academy. When she headed home, she felt somehow entirely exhausted and yet incredibly wired at the same time. It was a lot to adjust to, she supposed. Not in the mood to try out the apartment's stove (not that she had much in the way of kitchenware at the moment), she ordered Thai. She didn't really pack much with her when she'd moved here, outside of clothes, toiletries, and the likes. She had an air mattress and sheets, and the apartment came with a stove and refrigerator; there wasn't much else at the moment. Her father was going to help pack and ship out some of her stuff, so that would be arriving sometime later. But that was fine. She didn't need anything else for now. She had to strike while the iron was still hot, you know? She needed to snatch up this job and move out here as soon as she could . . . before she had the chance to change her mind, or to waffle about it for six more months. Or a few more years. Juniper knew herself well enough by now; she knew that's exactly what would have happened if she hadn't jumped at this opportunity.

She sat on her air mattress and ate Thai food with a plastic fork while watching the latest gym matches from Galar on her tablet, only paying it half-attention. Her mind was running through everything at once. Things had gone very well, of course. Her boss seemed very kind and supportive. The department was a little small but it was full of wonderful people and equipped with cutting-edge facilities. She had a good mentor who'd help her ease into the teaching role, and her brain was bursting with research possibilities. It was everything she'd wanted, and everything she'd needed. It was a bit of a gamble to come out here, to switch up everything in her life and to try something new, but it had paid off. She was happy.

Wasn't she?

Juniper picked listlessly at her Pad Thai. It was true everything had gone terribly well. But was it everything she wanted and needed? That . . . was a little harder to articulate. Juniper had built her life around her career. It was everything she lived for. Her father would often refer to her as a 'workaholic' in a derogatory tone, a fact that seemed damn hypocritical in her opinion, considering how obsessed with work he often became. So what if she was a workaholic? That was a good thing! She loved her work. She was passionate. It drove her, it kept her striving forward, it pushed the envelope of scientific progress, and it brought her meaning and purpose.

Juniper glanced around her empty apartment, sighing and finding the sight a little melancholic. She had to admit that despite all of her excitement, she also felt a bit anxious, and a bit . . . lonely. She'd rushed out here so fast she hadn't even the chance to bid farewells to most of her colleagues and friends in Unova. They were all a world away, now. Although, even when Juniper had been living there, she hadn't exactly been a social butterfly. It just was never high on her list of priorities. Too wrapped up in whatever her current project was. She was always a bit awkward when it came to social sorts of things anyway. It was so much easier to just focus on what she was good at, and what interested her so much.

Well. So what? So what if that'd always been the case? If she really wanted to, Juniper could spend a bit more time socializing out here in Paldea. She'd probably make great friends with her colleagues at the Academy. And sure, yes, she rushed out here rather quickly, but that was fine! It's true she still wasn't sure yet if she'd enjoy teaching or if she'd be any good at it, or if any of her research ideas would actually come to fruition, or if she'd get along with her other colleagues or if she'd manage to actually socialize with them or talk about anything other than work, or if she'd ever feel at home in Paldea, or if she'd ever manage to actually finish the projects she started, if she'd ever chase away the weird empty feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever she got home and dropped onto her bed after a full twelve hours of obsessing over work, and if . . . if . . .

If . . .

"Ooof. Okay, take it easy, Aurea."

Okay. Maybe she did need to get out a bit more and . . . do the whole social thing.

It couldn't hurt to try.

Unbidden, Juniper's mind suddenly played back the memories of last night at the Medali Gym, memories of a beautiful stranger with Bordeaux eyes and seafoam hair, a stranger who had such an ineffable, incredible presence about her, oozing self-confidence and power and just a little bit of danger.

Juniper coughed on a rice noodle.

Not her, Aurea, for goodness' sake. At least go after someone in your league.

Juniper sighed, sinking further back into her sagging air mattress.

The next week, Juniper found herself settling into a comfortable routine. She would climb the enormous flight of stairs up to Naranja Academy, join Jacq in his office to help with his prep work, and then attend his two classes so that she could assist. They'd next have lunch and then in the afternoon Juniper would help Jacq with grading and other duties, as well as review some of the curriculum at large and go over any questions Juniper had. The remainder of the day Juniper spent her time either running errands, exploring some other part of the school or Mesagoza, or (her favorite part) fiddling in the lab and planning out her future research endeavors.

She briefly met some of the faculty in other departments, including Dendra the Battle Studies instructor (who was very energetic), Tyme the Math instructor (who was very pleasant and talkative), and Saguaro, in charge of Home Ec (who, despite appearances, was in fact as sweet as a Teddyursa). She also found a good shop in Mesagoza for her groceries, although the student store at the Academy was also surprisingly well-stocked and convenient, so long as Juniper didn't buy too much there. The trek back to her apartment was a bit obnoxious if she was loaded down with too many bags, after all.

On the weekend, Juniper went traveling again, keen to return to her research on the field. She returned to the West Province to study Girafirag, gathering more data on the herds as well as catching some individuals to study back at the lab. She mostly focused on Area Two, in the grasslands bordering the Asado Desert, although she made the trip back into Medali for lunch rather than try for Cascarrafa. It was entirely because Juniper already knew how to get there and so it was just the easiest, and for no other reason at all. And if some tiny part of her brain had hoped to possibly run into a certain individual again by happenstance, well, that wasn't really important.

She did not run into anyone by happenstance, but she did gather some wonderful data for her research. She spent Sunday compiling information, looking information up, and growing increasingly excited over and obsessed with some budding theories of hers. She didn't return home to her apartment until very late, dropping onto her air mattress in exhaustion. It seemed old habits died hard, alas.

Monday morning, Juniper had arrived to Jacq's lab before even Jacq had managed to. When he did appear, mug of coffee in hand, he found Juniper situated at one of the specialized machines, a Girafirag strapped up to the devices, a metal dome over its primary head and a second smaller dome also attached to its tail.

"Oh, good morning, Aurea! I'm surprised you managed to beat me, hehe. Whatcha got cooking there?"

The machine was printing out a steady graph on a long roll of paper, which Juniper was grabbing as quickly as the machine could spit it out. She turned and beamed at him, proclaiming,

"It fits perfectly! Every Girafirag I've tested so far. Jacq, this is stupendous! I think I've got my next research paper already figured out, if the data continue to follow this trend."

Jacq took a sip of his coffee and chuckled. With only a small hint of concern in his voice, he asked,

"What, um, what time did you get here?"

Juniper muttered,

"Oh, I'm not sure, six or something . . ."

She checked her wrist automatically for her Xtransceiver before remembering that piece of technology was outdated and she hadn't worn it in a long time, then shook her head.

"Doesn't matter! Jacq, take a look at these psi-wave readouts from all the Girafirag I've collected so far. In particular, from the hind-brains. And now, compare them to these," she said, pushing a bundle of papers into Jacq's hands. He set his coffee down and struggled to wrangle the rolls of paper, setting them on a desk so he could examine them more easily. After a bit, he hummed,

"They're much higher than the other set."

"Yes! Exactly. Jacq, the Girafirag in Paldea are very different from other regions. It may not look so on the outside, but they are. The amount of psychic activity from their hind-brains is doubled, nearly tripled at times! It probably relates to how they're able to evolve here."

Jacq smiled, a bit of an excited sparkle in his eye.

"Why that's wonderful! What an incredible find, Aurea! Your first week here and already you've discovered something so significant. I knew it was going to be a thrill working alongside you."

Juniper gave a bit of an embarrassed huff, waving the praise off quickly.

"It wasn't anything serious, I just ran some basic tests. But look here, after I started to see the trend, I wanted to know why. Why would Paldean Girafirag's hind brains be so much more developed than usual? It's strange. Presumably there's some sort of selective pressure for Girafirag with tails that have these more-developed brains, but the question is, what specifically?"

"Yes," Jacq said, then suggested,

"Perhaps something about Paldea is especially conducive to psychic energy?"

Juniper answered,

"Yes, possibly. But I got to thinking about the functions of Girafirag's hindbrain. They mostly serve a defensive function of course, allowing Girafirag to stay on guard even while it sleeps, and spotting danger from behind-- even responding to said danger automatically-- at all hours. I began to wonder if the Girafirag here had more reason to worry about such possible threats. And I noticed something while I was out on the field. There were a great many herds of Paldean Tauros in Area Two, competing for the prime grazing spots."

Jacq nodded along, starting to see where Juniper was headed. Juniper continued,

"And Paldean Tauros are far more aggressive than regular Tauros. Not to mention Fighting type! They represent a significant threat that the local Girafirag must keep an eye on, and psychic moves would be especially well-suited to keep them check. A quick, automatic response from Girafirag's tail could ward off any Tauros trying to butt in!"

Jacq sipped his coffee, commenting,

"I must say, that's an excellent theory."

Juniper moved to start unstrapping the Girafirag from the machine, gushing,

"It's remarkable! At first glance, the local Girafirag seem unnoteworthy, but a closer look tells a different tale. A different tail? Haha, didn't mean for that to be a joke. Anyway, if the differences are as pronounced as I believe them to be, why, we could be witnessing the development of a new Regional Form unfolding in real time! I imagine in the not-too-distant future, Paldean Girafirag will be their own Regional Form."

With the patient Girafirag unhooked from the machine, Juniper gave its head a pat.

"Thank you for your help, little one. I'll be sure to bring you back home soon, okay? And I promise some nice berries for your trouble."

The Girafirag's tail began to chomp the air at the sound of the word 'berry.'

"For both of you, haha! I promise."

She returned the pokemon to its ball. Jacq appeared to be reflecting on Juniper's theories.

"It reminds me a little of Paldean Wooper," he mused,

"I suspect their divergence into a unique regional form didn't take place all that long ago. In many ways they're not too distinct from typical Wooper. Nonregional Wooper will coat their skin with a sticky, toxic residue to protect against desiccation while on land, but the toxicity is relatively mild. Paldean Wooper simply turned that up a notch, spending more time on dry land and developing a somewhat stronger protective film on their skin."

Juniper snapped her fingers.

"Yes! I do remember reading about that. You know, they'd be an excellent candidate to turn my attentions to next. I hope to survey all the regional forms and unique evolutions here eventually. I think it could offer some real insights into how speciation occurs in general."

Jacq offered her a

"I'm sure you're right. But remember, Aurea, you have plenty of time. There's no need to push yourself this hard, when you've only just arrived."

Juniper gazed at him, feeling a little confused. She was about to protest she hadn't been pushing herself, but then she took a few moments to really consider things. Right. Well. From an outside perspective, she could see why it would look like that.

"You . . . might be right. I have been going pretty hard right out the gate. It's just difficult to rein myself in when I'm this excited."

Jacq laughed.

"Believe me, I understand. I get carried away in my research too. I have to remind myself to look up every now and then and make sure I'm still doing things like eating, hehe. So I hope you don't take offense if I remind you every now and again, too."

Juniper smiled at him.

"No, not at all. Thank you for looking out for me. And you're right-- we have classes to prepare for today, after all. So let's get to work on that."

Jacq eyed her.

"Well, first things first-- have you had breakfast?"

Juniper blinked at him, then glanced away guiltily.

"Ah, sort of?"

"Coffee doesn't count."

"Then no."

"All right, then we're dropping by the cafeteria."

The next several days passed by quickly, packed with work. On Tuesday, Juniper did a little guest lecturing, and on Wednesday, they had a big exam to grade; surprisingly the work wasn't too bad when it was divided between the two of them. On Thursday, they finished up with their post-class work early, and Juniper had a lot free time that afternoon. She probably should have spent it picking up a few more things to furnish her apartment with (such as somewhere to sit or a source of light or a table or something?). Instead she went out to the East Province in search of Wooper and Clodsire. In her defense, Jacq had planned on covering regional variants a bit in next week's lecture, so it was an entirely justified trip.

Friday morning, Jacq arrived at his office to find Juniper was there early again, but instead of being jazzed over her research she appeared quite sullen, brooding as she drank her coffee.

"Good morning, Aurea! Um . . . sleep well?"

Juniper glanced to him distractedly and nodded.

"Well enough, I suppose."

He frowned, pulling out a chair and sitting.

"Then what has you so gloomy?"

She chuckled a little.

"Oh, nothing too dire. Just had a bit of a wasteful afternoon yesterday. I was out in the East Province trying to study Paldean Wooper."

Jacq's interested seemed piqued.

"Couldn't find what you were looking for?"

She shook her head.

"Oh, I found plenty of Wooper, and even some Clodsire! That wasn't the problem, though. The trouble was I'd hoped to capture some for my research and, well . . ."

She trailed off, looking a little embarrassed.

"A-hem, well . . . funny thing is, those Clodsire are pretty protective of the Wooper around them, as it turns out! Which wouldn't really be an issue as I would have loved to capture some Clodsire specimens as well, but. I . . . couldn't actually manage to do that."

She hated to admit it. At least Jacq didn't seem to think less of her for it. He asked,

"What was the problem, exactly? Perhaps I could be of some help."

She sighed, leaning back in her chair.

"Well, the Clodsire had sequestered themselves and the Wooper in the middle of their bog. I tried to Surf out there on my Carracosta, but the water was too muddy and shallow for him to swim in effectively. I contemplated wading in myself, but the bog was rather dense and easy to sink into and it didn't seem wise. So I wasn't really sure how to . . . get at them, you know? My Archeops can fly, yes, but she's not the best at hovering in place, not to mention the Wooper and Clodsire would then just sink down under the mud. Urgh. I wasted a lot of time just floundering for a solution, I felt very silly!"

Jacq laughed, not unkindly.

"There's no need to be so harsh on yourself, Aurea. Clodsire can be very tricky. Even I struggle to catch them! And I'm always warning my students that they need to be extra careful around those bogs. You were good to be cautious, sometimes it's best to recognize you haven't the right tools for the job and need to return later."

Juniper chuckled, mostly at herself, feeling better at his words of reassurance.

"Well, I'm glad to hear I'm not the only one."

Jacq hummed to himself, tapping a finger as he contemplated.

"Yes, it can be a pain in the neck to deal with those bogs. But now that I think about it, there's someone I know who's quite the expert on Clodsire. Rika! I'll bet she could help you out better than even I could."

Juniper wracked her brain as she sipped her black coffee.

"Rika, hm? What department is she with? I don't think I've met her yet."

"Oh, well she's not technically with the Academy. She's an Elite Four member! But she helps out at the school sometimes as well."

Juniper's brows lifted a little.

"An Elite Four member? Interesting. Are you sure she'd be interested in helping out a Pokemon Professor with her research, though? I imagine Elites usually have their hands full with all that battling and such."

Jacq didn't seem too concerned

"It's true they can get pretty busy, but they've always been very kind about making time for requests from the Academy, too. I guess it probably helps that the head of the League is also head of the school board, hehe."

Juniper nodded. That did make sense.

"Well, if you think she's the right person for the job, then I'd gladly accept the help."

Jacq pulled out his Rotom Phone, tapping on it.

"Alrightie then. I'll just send an e-mail to see if she has any time available."

By the afternoon, Juniper was too caught up in work to brood any longer, Thursday's failure now long forgotten. She spent the rest of the work day grading assignments, finishing them up right when it was time to head home.

She was lounging in her apartment that Friday evening, eating takeout again because she still hadn't gotten around to furnishing her kitchen, when Jacq sent a text.

Good news! As it happens, Rika has space in her schedule tomorrow. She told me she'd be happy to lend a hand.

Juniper was surprised at the quick response. She didn't expect to hear back for a while.

That's wonderful! Thank you, Jacq!

He quickly replied,

She told me that she could swing by the Academy, if that's acceptable?

Juniper texted back that it was perfect, since she'd planned on going in tomorrow anyway to do some reading. Jacq said that he'd pass that along, as well as forward the e-mail to Juniper so she'd have her contact info, and then that was that. Juniper was very pleased at the thought of making progress this weekend with her research. Yes, she promised Jacq she'd try to pace herself, but doing a little bit of research this weekend wouldn't hurt, surely.

As it turned out, the Elite Four member couldn't drop by until Saturday afternoon, so the next day Juniper spent her morning in the lab reading the scientific literature about Paldean regional forms. At lunch, she grabbed a bento box from the cafeteria and returned to the lab to eat while she read.

Technically, Juniper was waiting for the Elite Four member to drop by the office, but she became so engrossed in her reading that the fact eventually slipped from her mind. There was just so much material to cover, and some of the authors, well, they had some dingbat theories, in Juniper's humble opinion. She became very involved in scribbling her thoughts into the margins of an especially dense paper she'd printed out (she'd always preferred the feel of paper). During one comment she was scribbling, her pen began to run out of ink, and with a bit of annoyed huff, she tossed it aside, searching for another. It was at this point she noticed a pair of women had entered the lab and were approaching her desk, and she remembered why she'd been sitting here to begin with. She quickly glanced up at them.

The first woman she immediately registered as the head of the League and School Board; Geeta, whom she'd met on her first day of the job. But as Juniper's eyes shifted to the woman walking beside her, her thoughts ground to a complete halt.

Her heart lurched.

Legs for days, handsome suit, a nearly endless green ponytail wisping behind her, wine-red eyes . . .

N-no . . . this was completely absurd, it-- it couldn't be--

"Good afternoon, Professor Juniper," Geeta greeted cheerfully as they reached her desk. Juniper froze, perfectly still, her eyes comically wide. The woman standing beside Geeta had a very casual air about her, her shoulders relaxed and her hands buried in her pockets, but she was looking at Juniper very intently, a smirk stretched out wide across her mouth.

Oh, she was enjoying this.

"A-a-afternoon," Juniper stammered, or at least she hoped that's what it came out as. It must have been close enough, because Geeta continued blithely,

"I hope you're settling in well! I was here on other business, so I thought I'd drop by and introduce you both."

Juniper clambered to her feet, belatedly realizing she must have looked rude just sitting there like that. Geeta smiled and gestured to the woman beside her, saying,

"Dr. Juniper, this is Rika, our Ground specialist of the Elite Four and a good friend of mine. I promise you'll be in very good hands today."

Geeta then turned to the other, saying,

"Rika, this is Doctor Juniper, our new Biology instructor from Unova."

The smirking woman held out a gloved hand to shake, her eyes never wavering from Juniper's gaze. As Juniper looked at the offered hand-- the black glove emblazed with the Elite Four symbol, she now realized-- she felt her face flush hot. She suddenly regretted very, very sorely the daydreams she'd indulged in several days ago during an especially lonely night. Dreams that had starred a beautiful stranger she'd assumed she'd never see again.

She was looking at her, she was still waiting, oh god.

Her stomach twisting in a summersault, Juniper somehow managed to reach out and take the offered hand, uncertain if the woman was going to try the same hand-kissing stunt a second time around but absolutely not ruling the possibility out.

She did not. Instead, she just gave her hand a brief squeeze, her smile increasing. Lazily, she said,

"Nice to see you again, Professor."

She released her grip and Geeta glanced between them both.

"Oh, you both already know each other?"

The beautiful stranger-- Rika-- chuckled and answered,

"Not really. We met briefly, though. You know the day I was helping Larry out with his new admissions? I found her inside the Medali gym, looking like a lost little Deerling. Helped her find her way around."

Rika was still looking at Juniper while she spoke, and Juniper was silently cursing her for it; she knew, she had to know that her gaze alone was doing ridiculous things to Juniper.

Geeta smiled, saying,

"Isn't that nice! I'm happy to hear you're being so proactive about making newcomers feel welcome. Well, I'm sure you both have much to discuss about this Clodsire research, so I won't hover about. It was nice seeing you again, Doctor, and I wish you both a fruitful day of work!"

As she left, Rika waved, saying,

"See ya later, boss."

And then Geeta was gone, leaving the two of them alone.

Juniper swallowed her suddenly dry throat, wondering what kind of bizarre sense of humor the divine creator Arceus had. (She didn't actually ascribe to the Church of Arceus. But it was still a very useful metaphor in the moment.)

"So how are you liking life at the Academy?"

Juniper had to force herself to snap to attention, needing to replay the question in her mind before comprehending it.

"I-I--"

She coughed, her dry voice breaking, and started again.

"I-I've enjoyed it! I'm only, uh, I'm only assisting in classes at the moment, but it's been going very well."

There, see, she could do this, she could sound normal. Juniper glanced the woman over and added bravely,

"And it's nice to see you again as well, Ms . . . Rika."

She pronounced the name slowly, trying out the sound of it. She continued wryly,

"Nice to finally have a name to put to the face."

The woman grinned,

"Oh, did I forget to mention it? Sorry, sometimes I'm a bit of a scatterbrain."

Juniper lifted a brow. Somehow Rika did not look sorry at all. Clearing her throat, Juniper said,

"Yes, well . . . I find it interesting you also neglected to mention you're an Elite Four member and sometimes still work with the Academy."

Rika just shrugged.

"Well, c'mon, Professor, if I went around announcing to everyone I met that I'm in the E4, that'd come across as pretty pretentious, don't you think?"

Juniper frowned, considering that.

". . . I suppose you have a point."

Rika paced the office casually as she drawled,

"But don't let any of that intimidate you, all right? Don't think of me as Rika, The Illustrious Elite, or Rika, the Ground Guru, or Rika, the Resplendant Beauty, or any of that--"

Juniper opened her mouth to suggest she was being perhaps a bit hyperbolic, but Rika then turned and paced back to stand just ever so slightly too close to Juniper, and the protest quickly died before Juniper could formulate it. Rika smiled at her, finishing,

"Just think of me as Rika: your new research assistant."

Juniper swallowed. Somehow that thought did not calm her. She stammered,

"R-right."

Thankfully, Rika didn't seem to notice Juniper's general struggle to speak around her. Or, as was more likely, she was entirely aware but didn't mind it. Either way, she simply asked,

"So, what're we working on today? Jacq said you were interested in studying Clodsire."

It was an act of mercy for her to ask about the research, because Juniper's brain actually functioned properly when it came to talking about that.

"Y-yes! Well, um! You see, I've been studying Paldean regional forms. I'm hoping to better understand how the process of speciation works-- that is, um, how a new species comes to exist. Most evidence suggests it's a very gradual process, that takes place across many generations. Regional forms are very likely an example of a species diverging into something new. So, for example, ah--"

Juniper turned and quickly stepped to a nearby whiteboard, clearing away the scribbles on it with her hand and fumbling with a dry-erase marker. She drew out illustrations of her points on the board.

"So for example, this would be Wooper and Quagsire here, and over here is Paldea's regional forms of Wooper and Clodsire. Really, there's argument among scientists whether Clodsire is actually a regional form of Quagsire or if it now qualifies as a separate species, but we won't get into the nitty-gritty details for the moment. The important thing is, over time in this region, they've gone through changes. And if that continues, over here in the future, why, they could become something hardly even recognizable to Wooper and Quagsire, you see?"

Juniper paused, considering her lumpy, hastily-drawn Woopers, adding,

"Well, I suppose they're hardly recognizable in my drawings, too, but I trust you still understand the general point."

She heard an amused little snort. She turned back to her guest; Rika promptly raised her hand as if she were a student in class. Juniper huffed and said,

"Yes?"

"I'm just wonderin' where I come in. Not that this isn't interesting, but it's not exactly my area of expertise."

Juniper nodded, quickly answering,

"Right! Yes, sorry about that. I need to do some field work to gather more data. That is to say, I need to capture some Paldean Wooper and Clodsire. I attempted to capture some a few days ago in the East Province, but I met with some, erm, difficulty. They hunkered down in the middle of their bog and I wasn't sure of the best way to go about capturing them. Jacq mentioned you were an expert on Clodsire, so I was hoping you may be able to . . . um . . . help me . . . capture some? Or give me some advice, in the least?"

Juniper waited tensely for a response, unsure if her request would come across as too trivial, or perhaps even the reverse problem, too difficult, if Rika's knowledge pertained strictly to fighting with Ground types and little else?

However, Rika's eyes seemed to light up at the request and she responded breezily,

"That, I can do."

Juniper beamed at her,

"Oh, splendid! I greatly appreciate the assistance!"

Her guest seemed amused at something-- perhaps Juniper's degree of excitement-- but didn't comment, instead saying,

"Let's see, you said you went to the East Province? Where exactly did you go?"

Juniper struggled to recall, checking her phone to refresh her memory with the photos she took.

"Hmm, I believe it was . . ." (She flicked through several photos here.) "Oh, well, not very far from the watchtower? I can't recall exactly where."

Rika nodded.

"All right. First of all, there's a spot not too far from Zapapico, I've had a lot more luck out there then the other spots. Larger population and a wider range of levels, so you'll have more to choose from."

Juniper grabbed her pen and scribbed that down.

"Near Zapapico, got it. And do you have any suggestions on dealing with the topography, the ah, the swamp? My Surf pokemon couldn't swim in it, you see--"

Rika cut her off, shaking her head.

"You don't need to worry about it."

Puzzled, Juniper said,

"I don't?"

Rika clarified,

"Cos I'm comin' with you."

Juniper quickly responded,

"--Oh! Wonderful! That would be ideal, of course! I just wasn't sure if your schedule permitted it."

The woman took a phone from her pocket to check (it was slim and had a case covered in Wooper, which Juniper found adorable), muttering,

"Well, I have a bit of shoppin' to do in Mesagoza, but that shouldn't take me long. Maybe an hour at most."

She pocketed it again, shooting Juniper a crooked smile.

"After that, I'm all yours."

Juniper adamantly ignored the flutter in her chest and cleared her throat.

"All right! W-well, perfect! Shall we meet up in an hour then?"

The woman seemed to ponder something a moment before suggesting,

"Let's make it an hour and a half. We can meet at Zapapico, in front of the Pokecenter. That work for you?"

Juniper agreed,

"That works very nicely."

Rika nodded.

"Good."

She paused, her gaze flicking Juniper over. The crooked smile returned.

"I'll see you then, Doe-Eyes."

She winked and left. Juniper just stood there for a bit, motionless, still trying to absorb the fact that any of this was happening.

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. This wasn't going to be easy.

Zapapico was a small town, cut into the foot of the Glaseado Mountain, with only a small smattering of stores and houses; perhaps it's biggest brag was the fairly humble pokemon battle court in the center of town. Still, despite that fact, it was a very pretty town. Juniper arrived early, so she spent a little time admiring it and poking into the shops before heading over to the Pokecenter. Juniper knew immediately when Rika had arrived, because the fact was announced by the whine of an engine. Juniper looked up to watch the large green lizard pokemon barreling along the road, its legs moving so quickly they were nothing but a blur. It slowed and came to a stop at the little motorcycle parking lot just nearby. Rika dismounted and ambled over to Juniper. Juniper expected her to have a bag, perhaps for supplies, as they were going out into the wilds to catch pokemon, after all-- but she had nothing, it seemed. Apparently she traveled light.

When she reached her, Juniper couldn't help but ramble.

"That motorcycle pokemon you have, they're fascinating! I meant to quiz Jacq about them more, but it's always slipped my mind. Do they have actual mechanical parts? Steel type, maybe?"

She knew some pokemon with moving mechanical parts, like Klinklang, but an entire functioning motorcycle seemed on another level. Rika chuckled, answering,

"A good guess, but nope. No actual machinery involved. They're Dragon/Normal type."

Juniper's eyes widened.

"Really! That's incredible. So just a very impressive form of mimicry, then."

"Guess so. They've been a part of Paldea a real long time, folks have been riding them for centuries, they think."

Juniper thrilled at the possibilities.

"I wonder if they've always had that motorcycle appearance and humans later fashioned their machines to look like them, or if they later developed that mimicry alongside humans' new machines! A sort of Torchick-or-the-egg kind of mystery, how interesting."

Rika shrugged at the question (even though Juniper hadn't really expected an answer). She said,

"Dunno. Guess you could ask the same thing about Voltorb."

Juniper beamed at her,

"Yes! Exactly! A question Pokemon Professors have indeed been asking and looking into quite a lot. And Amoonguss, among others. But back to your pokemon-- ah, Cyclizar I believe it was called? I'm curious, are they still very popular here as ride pokemon?"

Rika confirmed,

"Yeah, there's still a lot of 'em. Not as much as there used to be, since the flying taxi services are getting really big here, but I doubt they're goin' away anytime soon."

Juniper nodded.

"Yes, that makes sense. It seems a lovely cultural tradition. Although I must confess I prefer flying, it's just so quick and efficient."

Rika shook her head,

"Not for me, thanks. Cyclizar's way more fun. Those air taxis look too rickety for my tastes, anyway."

Juniper hummed, considering the Paldean Taxis; the arrangement of lashing so many little parrots to them did seem overly complex when compared to Galar's Corviknight-pulled taxis. In fact, she was pretty sure Corviknight lived in Paldea, too, so she began to wonder why they favored Squawkabilly. She was about to ask, when Rika cut in, an amused twinkle in her eye.

"Not that I mind the conversation, but I thought you wanted to talk about Clodisre today, not Cyclizar?"

Juniper released a short laugh, saying,

"Sorry, that's-- it's something I tend to do. I'm a bit distractible. There's just so many mysteries worth looking into. But you're right, let's turn our focus to Clodsire."

She followed Rika as they set out on the path leading away from Zapapico.

"Well, somewhat related to Cyclizar, I gotta admit while they're very fast, they don't deal with rugged terrain very well. They like flat roads," Rika said, dipping her hand into her pocket. She pulled out a pokeball in its shrunken-down form and held the button to bring it to full size.

"Which is why I have this guy."

She tossed the ball, a massive beast materializing before them; the hulking frame of a Mudsdale. The horse turned and flicked its ears, giving a placid nicker. Juniper laughed,

"Of course, that's perfect!"

Mudsdale was one of the best pokemon around for navigating rough roads and mud. In fact, she could think of nothing better-suited for the task before them today. Ms Rika most definitely knew her stuff.

Juniper watched Rika approach the horse and pet his muzzle for a bit and scratch behind his ears, muttering sweet nothings to him. Then she turned, and in one clean, sweeping motion, slung her leg around and hopped up aboard the horse, like it was the easiest thing to do. To her, perhaps it was, but to Juniper it seemed like wizardry.

"Wow. I-I'm not sure if I can pull off a maneuver like that," Juniper laughed nervously, gazing up at the towering monster. Rika turned and leaned over, holding out her hand.

"Don't worry, I don't expect you to. Step up on my hand, that's easiest."

Juniper was reluctant at first, unsure if she'd hold her weight, but did as she was instructed, using Rika's hand as a step-- whose grip felt steady as steel, a thought that made Juniper's insides feel a bit wobbly-- and pulling herself up onto the horse. She settled onto its enormous back, trying to find something to hold onto, but there really wasn't anything; it wasn't like Rhyhorn, with all those pieces to grab. (She wasn't going to pull on the creature's braided mane, since that seemed rude, and she certainly wasn't going to be presumptuous enough to grab onto her co-pilot.) So Juniper simply steadied her hands on the pokemon's back. Then she chanced to glance down.

"Oh, my."

Rika glanced over her shoulder.

"You good back there?"

Juniper nodded, giving her a shaky smile.

"Y-yes. It's just a bit new. I'm used to riding Rhyhorn, you see. There's a lot more to hold onto with those, and they're, well . . . a fair bit closer to the ground."

Rika chuckled,

"That's true. If you need something to hold onto, you can always use me. Shouldn't be too bad though, we'll be going pretty slow."

" . . . right. Okay."

She wasn't going to hold onto her, there was no way Juniper would keep a focused head if she did that, and that would be terribly awkward, besides.

Rika clicked her tongue, and the Mudsdale lurched forward. Juniper immediately squawked and grabbed onto Rika's waist. As the Mudsdale stomped along the path, Rika laughed, asking,

"You still good?"

Juniper straightened back up and let go of her like a hot potato, incredibly annoyed with herself.

"I'm fine I'm fine it's fine, I-- I was just startled."

The Mudsdale was plodding along at a rather slow pace, just as Rika promised; it only took Juniper a few moments to adjust to its rumbling gait.

"If it helps . . . I'm not exactly a fan of heights either, but if I can get used to Mudsdale, I'm sure you will in no time."

Juniper replied automatically,

"It's not so much the heights, it's more the thought of being thrown off."

Belatedly, Juniper realized what Rika had revealed. Ah, so there was another reason she'd preferred Cyclizar.

"Well you don't have to worry 'bout that. Mudsdale is solid as a rock and gentle as a Mareep."

Rika leaned over, draping her body across the animal's neck and petting his mane, as if to prove her point.

"Aren'tcha boy? Take it nice and easy for our special friend, okay? Don't wanna lose her overboard."

Juniper was briefly distracted wondering what Rika meant by 'special' friend, if anything, but decided to leave it be. It was actually quite endearing to see the pure trust Rika placed in the pokemon. She decided it must be for good reason. Juniper smiled and said,

"I'm sure he'll do a wonderful job."

After that, there was a lull in conversation, the only sound being the steady clip-clop of Mudsdale's heavy hooves and the distant chatter of pokemon cries. At first, it was very pleasant, and Juniper enjoyed the fresh Paldean air and the novel experience of riding. However, as the silence continued, she realized this was her chance to finally talk to Rika about something other than work. Juniper tried to think of a good topic to bring up. Oh, Rattatas, she was never very good at this part. Eventually, she spoke up,

"S-so, Ms. Rika--"

Rika interrupted calmly,

"Just Rika. Ms. makes me feel like I'm at work."

Juniper nodded.

"All right. Rika. How did you end up at the E4?"

Mudsdale began to climb a moderately steep hill, his hooves clomping steadily. Rika was quiet for a while, and then she shrugged.

"Bit of a broad question. I got into pokemon battling like most kids my age. Got pretty good at it, went to school, got even better. Did the gym circuit, then kept going from there, sought out all the tournaments and the likes. That's about it, I guess. In a nutshell."

Juniper hummed,

"I suppose it was a bit broad of a question. All right, how about this then; what made you choose Ground type to specialize in?"

Rika sighed as she considered the question, and began to reel off slowly,

"Mmm, well, Ground is incredible, offensively speaking, hits for supereffective damage on a huge range of types-- only Fighting matches it in that respect. Defensively it's not too terrible either. Water and grass are pretty common, so that's a downside, but electric immunity's nothing to sneeze at, and sandstorm synergy is a nice perk. In terms of pokemon, it's hard to find a more eclectic bunch. Allows for many kinds of play styles and preferences. Also, at the time there weren't any gym leaders specializin' in Ground, and Geeta puts a lot of pressure on having all types represented in the League. So there were a lot of practical reasons, too."

After she fell quiet, Juniper replied, "Oh."

She felt a bit . . . disappointed, maybe? She wasn't sure what she expected, exactly. But it felt like a pretty generic response. Then again, maybe it really was just a practical matter.

Rika cast a backwards glance at Juniper, perhaps due to Juniper's silence. She faced forward again and added, quieter;

"I didn't always favor Ground types, though."

Juniper's brows lifted.

"Oh?"

Rika ruffled her Mudsdale's mane. A faint smile tugged at her lips.

"How 'bout a game? Guess which type used to be my favorite."

Juniper let out a breath,

"Oohh, that's tough though, I've only just met you! Let's see . . ."

She pondered for a moment. Calm, collected, able to go with the flow, but clearly also very powerful and able to assert her will with absolute confidence. Yes, of course.

Juniper answered with certainty,

"Water!"

Rika's smile increased,

"Nope."

Juniper frowned. She'd felt so sure that'd been it. After a bit, she said,

"Psychic, then!"

"Nnnnope," Rika replied, popping the 'p'.

"Drat. Hold on, give me another guess . . ."

She racked her brain, for some reason really wanting to win this game. She tried,

"Ice?"

Amused, Rika shook her head.

"You'll never get it, I'll just tell you: my favorite was Fire type."

Juniper's eyes widened. Immediately, she said,

"No, I don't believe you."

Rika quickly laughed, sounding very tickled at her reaction.

"I swear it's true. I was obsessed with 'em as a kid, used them a long time. Did the whole gym circuit with them, even ran my own gym for a while with Fire types."

Juniper marveled at the thought. She asked,

"What changed?"

"Well, eventually-- hold on, I'm gonna get a crick in my neck if I keep talking like this. Duck your head, Doe-Eyes."

Juniper emitted a confused, 'Whuh-- huh?' but ducked her head anyway. Rika twisted about on the horse, swinging a leg clean over Juniper's head and settling onto the Mudsdale backwards so she could face Juniper. Alarmed (and more than a little flustered), Juniper stammered,

"Y-you-- don't you need to see where we're going?!"

Rika grinned, leaning back against the Mudsdale's neck with her arms folded behind her head.

"Nah. Mudsdale knows this path by heart, we've been here enough times by now. Anyway, Fire types, yeah? I loved 'em as a kiddo. Guess it's kinda cliché, I wasn't the greatest at strategy back then. Or patience, hah. I just liked to watch things burn. My plan was usually just 'use Flamethrower.'"

Juniper did her best to envision that. She'd certainly mentored some young trainers who fell into that category, but she wouldn't have guessed Rika to be among them.

Rika carried on,

"Obviously I got a little more sophisticated as time wore on, learned more tricks of the trade, got more experience under my belt. And Fire types brought me pretty far, to be honest. But eventually I got stuck. I'd gotten to be pretty damn good, yeah, but then I stopped getting better. Kinda just stagnated. And I wasn't satisfied with that. I wanted to keep growing, push myself to my limits."

Juniper glanced away, unable to help drawing mental parallels to her own life. She listened as Rika continued recounting her story.

"So I decided I needed a change of pace. A change of perspective, even. I switched things up a little. Rebuilt my team from scratch, completely changed my play style, everything. Even rechallenged all the gyms. Absolutely pulverized the competition at the tourneys, became a terror at my own Gym, folks would always save mine for last. And Geeta eventually recruited me for the E4. All in all, turned out pretty good, I'd say."

Juniper chuckled.

"I'd say so as well. How old were you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"When I made the E4? Nineteen," she answered, leaning her head back against Mudsdale's fluffy mane. Juniper boggled a little.

"Nineteen?! That's incredible!"

Rika laughed.

"Not really. Geeta was only a few years my senior and was runnin' the League by then. And you gotta keep in mind, a lot of people in this biz peak pretty young. Did'ja know one of my colleagues at the E4 is six?"

Juniper gasped.

"What?"

"Yep. She's a real prodigy. And just last semester, we had our youngest Champion-rank in Paldea from a fifteen-year old. They were rivals with the previous record-setter at sixteen. You don't wanna underestimate these kids, they'll knock ya flat."

"My word," Juniper muttered. Certainly, she knew that young trainers were often exceptionally talented; she knew some personally from back home, such as the brilliant children she'd mentored. Still, it was surprising. And maybe a bit disconcerting, too.

"Makes you feel a little worried about becoming obsolete," Juniper said, shaking her head with a smile.

"Well, you don't gotta worry, you're a part of academia. That's built on seniority and experience and the slow march of science, age is an asset there. But yeah, I have a lot of kids gunnin' for my spot."

Juniper found herself surprised at Rika's accurate understanding of her profession; the thought was quickly dashed from her mind when Rika reclined a little further and her splayed legs pressed against Juniper's own. The woman shot her a lazy smile, saying,

"Still, I'm not worried. Being a Gym leader or an Elite isn't just about being the very best. If that's all it took, the kids would be running amok. But what it really takes more then anything else is consistency. A lot of it. You need to play reliably, stand the test of time. And experience makes a huge difference there. Plus, you know, you're competing, but half your job also is to mentor and teach these kids, too."

Juniper nodded, finding it increasingly difficult to focus on the conversation. (Quite frankly she'd been doing an incredible job so far, considering the situation.)

"But anyway, yeah, Ground types are great. A lot of teams out there are hyper-offense, but Ground can do so much more then that. They're so chill and patient. They can go the distance. Wear you down. Burn you out. They're not in any hurry, they know how to play the long game when they need to. They don't need to prove anything, they already know they're in charge. They're great."

There was a dreamy look in the woman's eyes as she waxed poetic. After a few moments, she brushed away the bangs that had fallen in her face and looked up at Juniper through very pretty, long lashes.

"I've been kinda rambling, huh? Sorry 'bout that, I don't usually talk this much. What about you, then, Professor-- what made you decide to focus on ancient pokemon and all that?"

Juniper's brain took a moment to operate, and when it did, she was caught off-guard.

"Y-you know my area of study? I don't recall mentioning that yet."

Did she? No, she was pretty sure she hadn't. The Mudsdale they were riding began to climb over a very bumpy and rutted path, but Rika was unfazed, her faith in the pokemon's path unwavering.

"Geeta told me. She also said you moved here from your lab in Opelucid City, you've traveled extensively for your work on fossil excavations, you've authored over 30 noteworthy papers in research journals, and you used to go backpacking all across Unova with your pops."

Juniper blinked.

"Wow. Geeta must be a bit of a chatterbox, she told you a lot," she laughed. That sounded like most of the things she'd mentioned to Geeta over the course of her conversations with her.

There was a mischievous gleam in Rika's eyes. Her gaze shifted away as she commented,

"Ehh, I miiiighta been asking her a lot of questions about you."

Juniper gave a startled laugh, her face warming. She confessed,

"I-I'm flattered!"

Rika's eyes returned to her, and Juniper was captured by her gaze once more; there was something so terribly magnetic about it, especially when paired with the delicious little smirk she so often seemed to have. It took Juniper a little too long to remember she'd been asked a question.

"So c'mon, don't leave a girl hanging," Rika said, nudging playfully against Juniper's legs with her own.

"R-right! Well! I, er-- why I chose-- the, the origin of life, studying. It. Yes."

She coughed. Arceus.

"W-well, it really is just a natural extension of studying life itself, when it comes down to it. You see, our current understanding is that all life is related in some way, more or less. The difference is only a matter of degree. That is to say, we theorize that life likely had a single origin, and all its incredible forms and shapes developed over time from that one point. So in a very real way, all life is connected. Not merely due to the fact that we all share the same planet and the same sky and the same rivers and seas and other resources, but also all the way down to our genes and biological makeup!"

Rika sat up a little, to better pay Juniper attention. Juniper felt encouraged enough to continue.

"And, and these differences, we think they came about over time in a sort of slow-motion evolution. The kind of thing we're all used to thinking of as 'evolution,' of course, is the sudden transformation of a pokemon into a different species in its evolutionary family. But there's another kind of evolution, one we call 'gradual evolution,' and that takes place over many, many generations. Say, for example, primitive Pikachu were simple Normal-type rodents, similar to a Rattata! But some of them happened to have fur that was just a little bit good at holding a static charge. And that little pop of static was enough to help those Pikachu escape a predator. So more of those survived to bear offspring for the next generation. And some of the offspring that happened to be a bit better at holding a charge survived to bear their own offspring, so on and so on down the line. You follow?"

Rika nodded. Juniper continued,

"Right, so. It's this basic . . . mechanism of change that can explain how everything came about. Everything from the tiniest Joltik to the mightiest dragon. Just, creatures, responding to whatever pressures of survival there are in their environments. Shaped by the world around them. And I find that completely enchanting. Creatures and abilities beyond our wildest dreams, coming about in this way. That's why I study ancient pokemon. Because to study current pokemon is to study their entire history, to look back in time and see how their pasts have shaped their present. The entire, long, confusing, convoluted, often completely unexpected paths that they followed."

Rika crossed her arms and chuckled,

"Kinda sounds like a headache to study, to be honest."

Juniper laughed.

"It is, you're right. And it frequently drives me insane. But I also love it more than anything else. The beauty, the ugliness, the bizarreness, the mind-blogging diversity of life; the pure poetry of it all. Just-- try to imagine for just a moment, if we could invent a time machine and take a peek into the past, see what ancient pokemon were like back then, especially the ones we haven't any fossils for-- because fossils are far rarer than people realize-- just imagine! What sort ofstrange creatures might we find? Or, even imagine the reverse-- take a peek into the future and see how much has changed, how all that's familiar to us has now transformed into something completely new. That would be incredible. Don't you think?"

Juniper paused in her excited ramble, eyes sparkling, and looked to Rika expectantly. Rika was quiet for a while, apparently contemplating. Eventually, she asked,

"So what do you think ancient Wooper looked like?"

Eagerly, Juniper answered,

"Wooper probably used to be a pure Water type, some kind of freshwater fish. Some of those fish began to live in streams or ponds that would dry up seasonally or at least become very shallow, and so Wooper had to adapt to new conditions; develop limbs for walking and the ability to coat their skin in a protective film so they wouldn't dry out during their trips to land for feeding. That's our current theory."

By this point, Mudsdale had brought them to an area where the ground leveled out, a very wide, flat space that was dotted all over with marshy ponds. It seemed they were finally reaching their destination.

Rika asked,

"Somethin' like a Barboach then, maybe?"

Juniper nodded,

"That's a great guess! In fact, we do suspect that Wooper and Barboach could be closely related, that they both descended from a common ancestor not too long ago."

Rika smiled a little at that. She said,

"Cool. Then my Whiscash and my Clodsire could be cousins."

Juniper felt her heart give an excited skip just from the simple fact that Rika seemed to appreciate the things Juniper had been babbling about, at least a little bit. She answered,

"They very well could be!"

Mudsdale gave a sudden, rumbling grumble, slowing to a stop in front of one of the ponds. Rika glanced behind her.

"Good timing, Mudsdale. Looks like this is our stop, Professor."

"Oh, perfect!"

Rika dismounted first, hopping down to the ground and landing in a muddy spot that unfortunately splashed her nice work slacks, but she didn't seem bothered with it, too busy eyeing up the pond they'd reached. Many Paldean Wooper were swimming about, chirping and splashing in the water, while some Psyduck dabbled along the shoreline. Rika's gaze seemed to be further out, though, so Juniper followed it, squinting at the center of the pond. All she could see were some bubbles on the surface of the water.

"You see 'em?" Rika asked, looking to her.

"The-- the bubbles? Are they Clodsire?"

"Yep," Rika said, with perfect confidence. Juniper wondered how she was so certain; she knew a number of pokemon species that could be responsible for bubbles in the water like that. Still, she had no reason to doubt her-- she was the local Clodsire expert, after all.

"Watch," Rika said, slowly approaching the shore of the pond. Once she'd reached the edge of it, a murky figure began to immerge from the center of the pond, the blobby, brown outline of a Clodsire. Its eyes peeked out at them. Juniper laughed,

"You're right!"

Rika nodded.

"They're always watchin', keeping an eye on the Wooper."

"That certainly aligns with my previous experience. I couldn't get close enough to engage them in battle the last time, since they took cover in the middle of their bog like that. But now that we have Mudsdale, I suppose we can just walk right up to them!"

However, Rika didn't seem too keen on the idea. She shook her head.

"I'd rather not. Mudsdale is great for travel, but he's a pretty big guy. I'm worried some Wooper might get caught under his hooves."

Juniper's eyes widened a little.

"Oh, my. That didn't even occur to me. That would be horrible, you're right!"

Rika came back to help Juniper with dismounting the horse. When she'd gotten down safely, Juniper asked,

"What do you propose we do, then?"

Rika almost seemed to be waiting for that question. She answered slowly,

"Well . . . I could show you my approach, if you'd like."

Juniper nodded,

"Yes, by all means! I'll gladly yield to your expertise on the matter. It's why I invited you here today, after all."

Rika grinned, looking strangely pleased with this response.

"Okay. You got it, Professor."

The woman loosened her tie and pulled it off over her head, her collar now hanging open. She handed the tie to Juniper, who accepted it quizzically.

"Hold this for me, I kinda like this tie."

"Oh . . . kay?"

Then Rika approached the edge of the pond once more, pausing to check on the Clodsire lurking nearby, before stepping in and wading directly into the water.

"Oh, um-- you-- Rika, are you sure that's-- I think that pond gets deep rather fast--"

Juniper thought Rika would stop once she'd waded just a short ways in, but she did not stop, instead continuing as the water and muck rose higher and higher up her legs, the mud making a noisy schllllluck-pop noise with each step she took.

"That-- oh my. Are you quite sure this is safe? Jacq told me how dangerous these bogs can be, they've swallowed up some trainers whole, if I'm not mistaken!"

Rika waved a hand dismissively,

"S'fine, I've been in here dozens of times, I know the deep bits."

The chirping from the Paldean Wooper grew louder and more excited, the little creatures bouncing and swimming around her in curiosity, the water churning in a cloudy mixture of silt. The Clodsire drifting in the center of the pond lifted its head higher out of the water, its eyes narrowing, and it gave an offended grunt. Her voice growing a little more taut, Juniper asked,

"W-wait, Rika, do you even have any pokemon with you at the moment?"

After a pause, Rika answered,

"Don't need 'em."

The pond had submerged most of Rika's calves by now, and still she continued to slowly wade forwards. It was clear by now she was headed directly towards the Clodsire in the center of the pond; the Clodsire that was looking increasingly agitated by the second, and Juniper felt her heart begin to race in a panic.

"What do you mean you don't need-- Rika, you can't just-- oh my god. Rika--"

Juniper paused when Rika began to snicker, and she asked tersely,

"What are you laughing at?" Did this woman have a death wish?

"Sorry, it's just nice hearin' you call my name like that."

Juniper sputtered and glared, about to respond that now was not the time for such jokes, when Clodsire began to shoot a volley of mud directly at Rika's face. The woman held up an arm to block the onslaught, unfazed, and continued to wade towards Clodsire, even while it continued to fire mud.

"Rika, please-- I fully acknowledge your expertise on these matters, but still, what do you plan to do without any pokemon?" The Clodsire stopped firing mud, giving an aggravated cry. Rika lowered her arm and stared the pokemon down, her gaze hard and serious; she seemed to be watching it very closely. She answered Juniper in a calm tone.

"I'm gonna grab it."

Juniper balked. She repeated in quiet disbelief,

"You're-- you're going to grab it. That's your plan."

"Mmhmm."

The Clodsire gave an angry cry, looking as though it was preparing for another attack. Juniper took a deep breath and tried very hard to remain calm as she said,

"Surely you're aware that Clodsire is highly toxic. There's no way you don't know that. Even the briefest contact with its skin--"

"--I'm wearing gloves."

Juniper practically shook in her attempt to keep her voice from startling the Clodsire further, whisper-shouting,

"Y-yes, but the rest of you--it--its attacks--"

Rika did not take her eyes off Clodsire, but she interrupted Juniper in a clear, firm voice;

"Just . . . trust me, Professor. Okay? Just trust me."

Juniper hesitated.

She wanted to trust her, she really did. But the woman was currently standing knee-deep in the middle of a swamp, staring down what was literally Paldea's most toxic pokemon as though it were a level two Mudkip.

Uncertain, Juniper stammered,

"I-I--"

All at once, Clodsire lurched forward at Rika, its mouth opened wide. Rika dove to the side immediately, splashing face-first into the pond and submerging under it entirely, causing Juniper to squawk in a panic. For several frightening seconds Juniper thought perhaps the swamp had sucked her in, but then, Rika re-immerged in a gigantic splash, like some sort of bog monster rising from the muck-- covered head to toe in mud and grime such that she was hardly even recognizable-- before slamming bodily into the Clodsire, seizing it in her arms.

Juniper cried out, not exactly certain what she said, or if they had even been words. The Clodsire bellowed, squirming and thrashing in Rika's grip, and the two began to grapple in the shallow, sludgy water in some sort of preposterous cage match. Juniper truly could not believe her eyes. By all accounts, she shouldn't have even been able to keep hold of the slippery, oversized amphibian, but somehow she had a stubborn grasp on it, using the narrowed waist near its tail and its flippers as some sort of leverage.

The truly terrifying thing, though, was she had grabbed the creature by its back. Such that her arms were around its stomach and its back was pressed against her.

The back . . . where it kept its six toxic spines sheathed . . . which it uses during times of intense duress . . .

Juniper could scarcely think, visions dancing in her head of Rika being skewered by a row of six deadly spines, the E4's finest killed on the job right before her eyes; what a way for this outing to go. She yanked her bag off and scrambled for her pokeballs, forgetting what order they were in. What should she even use in this situation-- they were so close together, how could she use a move on the Clodsire without hitting Rika? Juniper snatched up what she hoped was Breloom's ball, thinking Spore was her best bet, because that way at least they'd both still be alive; she got back to her feet and was about to throw the ball, arm poised for the toss, when something made her hesitate.

Rika was laughing. Entirely unconcerned with the danger. Indeed, she didn't seem worried in the slightest. She was even talking to the Clodsire, saying,

"C'mon, baby, take it easy, take it easy, I'm not gonna hurt'cha-- whoa girl--"

The Clodsire bellowed again, squirming wildly, but it still did not deploy its spines. As difficult as it was for Juniper to understand, it really did seem like this weird, wild woman was not at risk of an immediate gristly death. Still, just to be sure, Juniper called out,

"Do you-- do you need help?"

"I'm good," she called back, starting to carry her quarry with her across the pond, in staggered, sloshing steps. As she approached, Juniper could see just how absurdly disgusting she looked, pants and shirt both caked in a thick layer of glistening mud, her long ponytail dripping and dragging in the mire, face smeared in slime, all the while still wrestling with the cankerous, huge Clodsire in her arms. She had the widest grin on her face and an incredible sparkle in her eyes, like she was having the time of her life.

It should have been completely off-putting to Juniper. It really should have. And yet . . . it was strangely alluring, in a way.

Ugh. Juniper really was down bad, apparently.

In the final few feet of her journey, Rika stumbled and nearly lost the Clodsire, but managed to right herself before she could fall back in. With great effort, she lurched through the remainder of the bog and onto the shore, standing before Juniper and holding the sodden Clodsire out like some kind of victory prize.

Its beady black eyes blinked at Juniper and it made a belching sound.

"This one good?" Rika asked, cheerfully. Juniper stammered,

"Er--I-- y-yes, that should do nicely?"

She just stared dumbly for a moment, still unable to wrap her head around what had just transpired. The Clodsire grumbled and wriggled, and Rika laughed,

"Well don't just stand there, Professor, toss a ball. I can't keep hold of 'em forever."

Juniper turned to her bag, fumbling.

"R-right, yes, one moment!"

She located a new Great Ball and pointed it at the Clodsire, the pokemon dissolving into the beam of light. It shook once, twice, thrice, and clicked; it seemed Rika had tired the Pokemon out enough that it was an easy catch.

Looking at the Great Ball in her hands, Juniper took a slow breath.

"Well . . . that's . . . that was . . . um. Certainly one way of doing things?"

Rika guffawed, apparently very amused with how gobsmacked Juniper still looked. She slapped a hand on her shoulder.

"What's wrong, Doe-Eyes? Never seen a trainer wrastle a pokemon before? They used to do it a lot, back in the day, y'know."

Rika then removed her hand a little awkwardly, adding,

"Oh, uh, sorry 'bout that."

Juniper glanced to the muddy handprint on her shoulder, but was unbothered with it, saying,

"I was mostly concerned with the possibility of you being eviscerated by Clodsire's toxic spines?"

Rika shook some mud off herself, saying,

"No way. Clodsire only uses its spines as a last resort. They have to puncture straight through its skin to work, and it causes a lot of self-injury to use 'em. It's a super risky move. Clodsire can even die to their own escape attempts, sometimes."

Juniper frowned in thought.

"Yes, I do recall reading that; they only use their spines in times of great duress. But wouldn't being grabbed like that qualify?"

"Not really. They gotta feel like their back is really against the wall, like somethin's chomping down and about to eat 'em. I wasn't even hurting that goober, though, just was jostlin' him a little. If they think they can slip away, they'll always prefer that over anything else."

Juniper pondered this information as she watched Rika wring out her dripping ponytail. That . . . actually made a lot of sense. She suddenly felt a bit bad for ever doubting her, until she remembered that, wait, no, that still was a pretty freaking weird thing to do.

"S-Still, what about all the myriad other moves Clodsire could have used on you?! Poison Jab, Megahorn, Earthquake? I can't understand how you're unscathed-- in the very least your arms and face should be covered in welts from mere contact with its skin!"

Rika just laughed.

"The Clodsire out here aren't strong enough to know Megahorn and Earthquake yet. Poison Jab, maybe, but good luck to them getting that off while I've got 'em pinned. It's really not that bad if you know what you're doin'."

She dabbed a little at the muck smearing her face.

"As for my immunity to the toxic skin, well, it's one of the perks of the marsh. A good layer of mud blocks the poison."

Looking very pleased with herself, she added,

"The more you know."

Juniper stared. Somehow she very much doubted the matter was nearly as safe as Rika was making it out to be-- there had to be all sorts of contingencies where something unexpected could happen and she could have gotten hurt-- but still. She had to admit Rika really did know her stuff.

Releasing a small huff of a laugh, Juniper shook her head with a smile.

"All right. I concede that was terribly clever and impressive, although perhaps not the safest approach, and--"

Rika waved a hand.

"Hold on, let's circle back to the start of that sentence where I'm clever and impressive and forget the other stuff."

Juniper couldn't help but laugh.

"All right," she said indulgently, looking the strange trainer in the eye. She repeated with a smile,

"You're very clever and impressive."

Rika grinned widely at her, and despite the fact that the woman had just crawled her way out of a disgusting bog, Juniper felt heat rising in her chest at the sight; captivated once again by that magnetic gaze. Those pretty wine-red eyes would be the death of her, she just knew it.

Eyes glinting, Rika leaned in just a little and asked in a low, husky tone,

"Wanna help me clean off?"

Juniper immediately flushed hot, sputtering,

"Wh-what--?!"

The woman snorted and sniggered, obviously adoring her reaction.

"Your pokemon, one of 'em has a water move, yeah? I mean, it might knock off some of the worst of this mud before we ride back."

Juniper huffed, scrambling to respond,

"Y-yes, well-- f-fine, I-- I knew that!"

"Sure you did. Actually, hold on, did you just need one Clodsire, or you wanna round up some more?"

Juniper glanced away. She admitted,

"W-well, actually, I would like to catch a few more specimens, if possible."

"No problem. You wanna try grabbing one yourself, or just stick with me doing the heavy lifting?"

Juniper regarded the muddy, wild woman for a few moments, considering the offer, before responding sheepishly,

"P-perhaps I'll leave that part to your expertise for now."

Rika nodded,

"Fair enough." She flashed her a grin.

"Then let's go do some science!"

#pokemon #pokemon s/v #pokemon scarlet/violet #pokemon fanfic #rika #rika pokemon #professor juniper #professor aurea juniper #pokemon black/white #look guys I Had a Vision #it involved mud wrestling & rika so I had to at least write this bit #also contains some rika backstory I invented bc we know so little about her

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sinofwriting · 2 months

Text

So Many Reasons - Ollie Bearman

Words: 3,343 Summary: She honestly just wants to go to these two races to see her brother so he won’t complain about never seeing her anymore that is it. She has exams, an internship, and a job, she doesn’t have time for any of this. Note(s): Thank you V once again for commissioning the fic! I had a lot of fun writing it and may or may not have spent an hour researching different business degrees and universities and such. Reader is Andrea Kimi Antonelli’s older sister. Age gap of 3 years between her and Ollie. Not good family dynamics between her and Kimi and their father.

Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund

“Andrea, no.” Her voice is firm, perhaps harsh but she doesn’t care. She was tired, hungry, and had to stay up for at least another six hours. Her last red bull in her bag sounded better every second. “C’mon, sorella. It is my first F2 race. You can miss a few classes.” Her jaw clenches and she forces herself to take a deep breath. Thank god this was just a phone call. “No, Andrea. I can’t. I have exams.” “Ask for an extension.” “Andrea,” she snaps. “Does padre know you are asking me this?” His voice is quiet, “no.” She sighs, pushing away her work. “How is your school work going?” “It’s fine.” “And the sim?” “Good.”

It’s quiet between the two siblings.

“It’s been months since we last saw each other. Do you not miss me?” “We saw each other at Christmas.” She reminds him but softens. “Of course I do. But I’m busy. I can’t take a few days away to go to a race, at least not one that’s not in Europe.” She looks at her planner, at the days blocked out with different colors. Purple for exams, blue for classes, yellow for work, green for work and classes, the dreaded orange for when she had both exams and work. It was filled for days, weeks, and months. “I could maybe make it for Imola.” She’d have to talk to her professors, put in her time now for work, but she didn’t have any exams the day after his feature race. “Maybe even Monaco if you can get me a spare pass.” She shouldn’t go to Monaco, not with her final exams to obtain her MBA starting just the day after the race, but she didn’t have any work those days and she could always bring her books with her. “Really?” She smiles at the excitement in his voice. “Really. Are you sure you want your big sister around?” “Yes. It will be nice to have family in the paddock. Someone other than dad.” She hums, eyes widening as they catch the time. “Let me know about the passes for the different races, okay? As soon as you get them I’ll talk to my professors.” “I will.” “Bye Andrea.” “Bye.”

—

“Mr. Garcia?” She knocks on the door frame. “You asked to see me?” He smiles, beckoning her in. “Yes. Please sit.” He gestures at the chairs in front of his desk before quickly typing something. She sits down, smoothing the fabric of her skirt. “I wanted to talk to you about your plans after you get your MBA.” “I’d like to get a travel position or be able to work remotely half of the time. Then I think after ten years of doing that, I’d like to take a bigger account or two.” He hums, looking at her consideringly. “Why the travel position?” “I like traveling, going to different places, and when I went once before with Maria, I liked what she had to do.” “You're also good with languages.” “Yes.” “And the hybrid?” She fidgets a little. “The same reasons really as the travel position and I like the extended hours.” His lips twitch into a smile, “Maria hated remote.” She nods.

“She said you’d be suited for it.” Her leg that had started to bounce stops. He leans forward, “I’d like to keep you on. I know that your internship with Maria ends the first week of May. And that you’re only supposed to continue to work with us until August. But I’d like to offer you the remote position, starting June 20th.” She looks at him with a slight open mouth. “What,” she clears her throat. “What exactly would that look like?” He pushes forward a folder. “All of the details are in there, but there are two important things. There will only be a few days every month that require you in the office. Those days are always made known at least two weeks in advance, some as much as six months.” She nods. “The second is you will have strict deadlines. Miss two within a three month period and you will be on probation, meaning that for a time you will be spending at least eighty hours in office for the month, until your probation is up. Look over all the details and get back to me next week.” “Of course.” Taking the folder, she stares at it before standing. “Thank you, Mr. Garcia.” “Of course, Ms. Antonelli.”

—

“Andrea!” She calls, seeing him looking around. His head turns to look at her, a large grin taking over his face. “Sorella!” He calls, jogging over to her. “You made it.” She rolls her eyes, pushing him away when he tries to give her a hug. “I told you two weeks ago I’d make it to Imola. It’s not my fault, you don’t listen.” She touches her ears before giving him a quick hug. “How are you feeling?” “Good.” She hums, following him as he leads her to what she assumes is Prema’s space for this race.

The good was false that was more than clear to see, if she wasn’t his sister, she’d know just by looking at the F2 races so far. Round four with no podiums? Or pole position. Her brother was surely smarting. She wondered if it had hit him yet that he wasn’t the most talented driver in this series yet.

Entering the Prema garage she smiles when Rene immediately greets her.

“How are you?” “I’m good. Very good. How are you? How is Angelina?” “I am good, I’m sure you saw the Indycar news.” She nods, watching as Andrea starts talking to either a mechanic or an engineer. “I did. It sounds amazing.” “Very amazing. And Angelina, well,” He pauses, turning his head and calling her over.

“Oh, Y/N.” “Angelina.” She greets back, melting into the hug the older woman gives. “How are you doing?” “I’m doing good. And you are well?” “Of course, it is the season.” She smiles at her, knowing all too well how much everyone loved the motorsport season.

“Kimi!” Angelina calls and she has to stop herself from flinching at the use of his nickname. “You did not tell me that your sister was coming.” He shrugs, “She’s coming next race as well.” “You are coming to Monaco?” She shrugs, adjusting her purse. “It’s my last free time before my exams and Andrea asked when I was going to come.” Rene and Angelina share a look but before either can say anything, someone interrupts.

“Angelina, Dino and Antonio are wondering about the next shoot.” The older woman sighs, “And neither of them could get me themselves.” He shoots her a grin, and it’s the sight of his grin that makes her realize that this is Andrea’s teammate. “I volunteered.” Angelina shakes her head, muttering under her breath but leaves the small group.

“Ah, Ollie, this Y/N. Y/N, this is Ollie.” Rene introduces. She shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you.” “You as well. Are you new to the team?” “No.” She laughs, pulling her hand from his. “Just a guest for this race and next.” “Oh.” He looks at Rene questioningly, but the older man is already in conversation with other people. “I could give you a tour, if you’d like.” “You don’t need to do that.” He smiles, giving a small shrug with his shoulders. “I don’t mind.” “Don’t you have race prep?” She can see just behind him, Andrea talking to another two people, their heads all gathered around a tablet. “I finished mine already.” Her lips purse. “At least let me get you a coffee from Ferrari’s hospitality.” Her nose nearly wrinkles at the word coffee, but Ferrari… She wasn’t into motorsports by choice, but she was Italian. She knew the allure of Ferrari and more so now Charles Leclerc than the team itself better than anyone. “So, coffee?” He grins. She sighs but nods. “Just one though.” She doesn’t think she could stomach another one.

“You don’t like coffee do you?” He asks nearly twenty minutes later as she sips at the coffee he got her and she chooses not to think too hard about the money she tried to hand him that he refused. “No.” She laughs. “But you like Ferrari.” “I’m Italian, Ollie. I think I get kicked out of the country, especially this part if I don’t bleed rosso corsa.” “Yet your brother is a Mercedes junior.” She pauses, “My brother?” His eyebrows furrow. “I’m sorry, it’s just Kimi, he has a picture of you. I asked about it once, because I already knew what his girlfriend looked like.” “I didn’t know that.” She wondered when the picture was from. Not from this Christmas, that was for sure. Ollie stares at her for a few seconds, something dancing in his eyes before turning the conversation back around. “It is a bit funny isn’t it? An Italian choosing Mercedes, while an Englishman chooses Ferrari.” “A second Charles Leclerc in the making.” She muses, remembering an article that said it. He flushes red. “I wouldn’t say that.” She shrugs, “Then other people will for you.”

Her phone buzzing makes her look away and she rolls her eyes at the text from Andrea. “I have to go back, Andrea is looking for me. Thank you for the coffee.” He nods, standing with her. “No problem.” He then opens his mouth again, quickly closing it. She raises an eyebrow and he flushes a bit more. “Could I get your number?” “Ah.” She glances down at her phone, another text on the screen. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Why not?” She can think of a million reasons. “It’s just not a good idea.” She settles on. “What if I want it as a friend?” She sends him a look and he grins. “I could do friends.” She shakes her head, “I need to go. Thank you again.” “Anytime.”

—

“You're at a race.” “Padre.” She greets, watching the screens as the sprint race goes into its fifth lap. “Andrea asked me to come.” “You don’t like races.” Her lips thin. “No, I don’t. But he wanted to see me, I made time.” “Have you made time for the interview I want scheduled?” “No.” He starts to say her name and she shakes her head. “No, padre. I’m here for Andrea, to see him. Just like I will be for Monaco, that is it. I have no interest in working for you.” “For the family.” “Or that.” He sighs.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she winces at the way Andrea gets overtaken, can already imagine the way he’ll beat himself up over it if he doesn’t regain the position, especially with the way Ollie is in P2, no battle in sight, as he more than comfortably keeps the place.

An arm wraps around her shoulders and she easily goes into her fathers side. “I miss my little girl.” She bites back on the words that want to crawl from her throat. “Love you too.”

—

“So,” she startles at the sound of a voice and the owner of it grins. “You don’t like coffee.” “Hello, Ollie.” “Hi.” He greets back. “You don’t like coffee.” He repeats. “I don’t like coffee.” She can’t help but smile at the way he grins at her responding to him. “What about,” he pauses looking around, before leaning closer and lowering his voice. “Red bull?” “I’m listening.”

She has to stop herself from giggling as Ollie leads her through Ferrari’s garage. She really shouldn’t be here. And not just because she shouldn’t even be at the race.

Stopping in front of a door, she watches as Ollie knocks, sending her a grin as he does.

“Hello?” The voice is a little confused. “Ollie! Come in, come in.” And Ollie grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers as he pulls her into the room with him. “Hi Charles.” Her eyes widen at the name and she quickly schools her expression though neither are looking at her. “What are you doing here?” Ollie grins at the older man. “I wanted to introduce you to someone and raid your fridge.” Charles rolls his eyes. “At least you don’t ask permission anymore.”

The tease makes her stiffen, this was a lot more than she felt she should be seeing or hearing.

“No, I learned.” Ollie laughs and then he’s tugging her closer. “Charles, this is Y/N.” A bit of tension leaves her when he doesn’t say her last name. “Y/N, this is Charles.” “Bonjour.” She greets, keeping her free hand firmly by her side as she wiggles her fingers in Ollie’s hand, but he just brushes his thumb over her knuckles. Charles’ eyes brighten at the greeting. “Bonjour. Est-ce un accent italien que j'entends?” (“Hello. Is that an Italian accent I hear?”) “Oui. Je suis italienne et je vis actuellement en France.” (“Yes. I am Italian currently living in France.) His grin widens. “Oh, très bien. Votre français est bon.” (“Oh, very nice. Your French is good.”) She ducks her head. “Merci.” (“Thank you.”)

“I didn’t know you spoke French.” Ollie says. She gives him a look. It should make his smile falter a little, but it only grows. “An Italian living in France. A bit uncommon, no?” Charles asks, handing her then Ollie a Red Bull. Before grabbing one for himself. “I study there.” “What are you studying?” Ollie asks, “Ki,” he stops himself. “Andrea never said.” Her eyes narrow at the catch, wondering why exactly he did it. “Accounting. And I’m not surprised. If it’s not something racing related, my brother has no interest.” Charles laughs. “I think Lorenzo and you would get along well. Having siblings that live and breath racing while you don’t.” “Maybe.” “Are you close to getting your degree?” “I am actually. My final exams start Monday.” “And you came to the Monaco Grand Prix?” Charles’ eyes are wide. “Yes.” “My goodness.” He looks at Ollie, winking at him. “This one is a keeper.” “Oh,” she says, feeling blood rush to her cheeks and Ollie is turning pink. “We aren’t.” He shrugs, taking a drink of his red bull. “Maybe not yet.” His eyes then fall to their still intertwined fingers and she gives another tug to Ollie’s hand, expecting him now to let go, but he doesn’t. “No, not yet.”

—

“What race are you coming to next?” Her hand tingles at the sound of Ollie’s voice. “I’m not.” “What?” She turns to face him. “Andrea wanted me at the first race of the season, but I couldn’t make it, so I said I’d come to these two.” She doesn’t mention that the want of her coming was because he apparently missed her. She had her doubts about that, especially after this weekend. “You don’t think he’ll ask you to come again?” She looks around, seeing no one nearby, she sighs. “Even if he did, I wouldn’t come. I love my brother, but not on race weekends, not during the season. I’ve seen you more than him.” Ollie’s face that had looked shocked, turns to understanding. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.” She shrugs. “He’s busy.” Ollie looks like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t.

Instead he leans a bit closer, “so, could I get your number now?” She laughs, shaking her head. “No. Still not happening.” “Oh, c’mon. I won today. This is the one thing I want as the Monaco F2 feature race winner.” She shakes her head. “Maybe, if you actually wanted it as a friend. I’d say yes.” “And why can’t we be more than friends?” He’s closer now somehow and she has to swallow around the lump in her throat. “Ollie,” Her name spills from his lips in a gentle sigh as he leans ever closer. “We can’t.” She whispers, hand against his chest, holding him place. “Why? Give me one good reason why.”

He’s guiding her backwards, down the short hallway and into a room that’s thankfully empty, the door shutting behind him.

“One good reason.” “You’re Andrea’s teammate.” “For nine more weekends.” She lets out a shaky breath, watching as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I’m busy with school and work.” “You have final exams this week, which you’ll pass. And I’m busy with work as well.” “You're younger than me. I’m twenty-two, you just turned nineteen.” He shrugs, her eyes following the strong line of shoulders with the movement. “I’m an adult. And I like you.” “Ollie.” She breathes. He’s closer than ever before, their lips nearly brushing. “I’m still waiting.” Her eyes scan his face, his words full of confidence, his body too, but he’s flushed and his nervousness is easy to read. And she delivers the reason that has to make him see reason. Because she doesn’t know if he stays this close to her if she can stop herself from kissing him. “Your parents,” his throat bobs. “Would never approve.” He looks at her and she looks back, holding her breath, waiting for him to back away but he doesn’t, and god when does Ollie ever do things she expects. “They don’t need to.” He whispers and then he’s kissing her.

—

“What are you talking about?” “Andrea,” “No.” He stops her, shaking her head. “What do you mean, you are seeing Oliver?” He spits the name out. “Don’t, Andrea.” “NO!” His face is red and she’s reminded of the times when he wanted candy that she had and threw a fit over not getting it instead. “He is, he is,” he shakes his head. “I don’t even know what he is. He is my teammate, he works in motorsports, you hate motorsports.” She keeps quiet, watching as her brother processes the news. “He is younger than you, barely older than me. And you.” He shakes his head again. “Does padre know?” She scoffs, now shaking her head. “Does padre know? That’s all you care about isn’t it. If our father approves or not, if you knows what he thinks, because heaven forbid Kimi,” he flinches at the name. “You think for yourself.” “That is not.” “Don’t.” She cuts him off. “Yes, he knows. Don’t worry he disapproves as well. So, you don’t have to think for yourself again.”

She stares at her younger brother, knowing that this is her fault, but she can’t, she still doesn’t have it in her to deal with it, not today. “I will talk to you sometime, Andrea.”

—

“Your fans are lovely.” Ollie makes a humming sound, half asleep. She pauses her scrolling on twitter, unable to stop herself from liking the picture of Charles’ dog in his own personal little car. “Your fans. Very creative as well. They can’t call me a gold digger, but a fame seeker? Well, if the shoe fits.” “They what?” He sounds so much more awake, it makes her laugh. “It’s just hate, Ollie. I’m an old woman praying on the young. Apparently I’m like Piquet.” “Ew.” And she can picture his nose wrinkling. “You know you aren’t though right?” “An old woman?” She jokes. “A predator.” She softens, turning in his arms, so that they are chest to chest. “I know.” “I mean, really if anything I was.” “You were very insistent.” He flushes. “Only a little.” She nods, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Only a little.”

“I know we talked about it before, but are you okay with everything?” “Yes. I mean, it hurts that Andrea is still not okay with it but my father’s opinion has not mattered to me in a long time. And no matter what the media and fans were never going to give us peace, so I made my peace with that as well. Besides, your parents are okay with it.” “They love you.” “Our friends are understanding.” “They are.” “And you aren’t about to dedicate any more podiums to me.” He grins at her and dread starts to form in her stomach. “Ollie…” “About that last one.” “Ollie!”

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