Chương 55: The saying was about love and war after all

Cynthia exhaled slowly as she crested the small hill leading to the grassy training grounds and spotted the person she had been searching for. Myst. He sat in the grass, posture casual, one hand propping up his chin, staring blankly forward to where his team was training. Honestly, at first glance, she thought he might be dozing. But only at first glance.

Not only did she know him well enough that he wouldn't do that when his team was training, but as she moved towards him she eventually made it to an angle where she could make out his eyes. They weren't staring blankly into the distance, but instead focused, flicking between Rei, Navi and Swadloon, tracking every movement they made. A small smile tugged at her lips. She stepped closer— Crack. Myst reacted instantly. Without warning, his entire body snapped tight, his mouth parting as if to shout.

Cynthia flinched in return.

"Rei, again, it's not a Fighting- or Normal-type move. It's Psychic. It's not supposed to enhance you by making you physically stronger—it's supposed to make you lighter, reduce resistance. Right now you're just trying to brute-force it." Not about her. Cynthia relaxed, the faint spike of worry snuffed out almost as quickly as it had appeared. Of course it wasn't. He hadn't even turned toward her.

Still, even as the tension faded, she remained standing there for a few seconds longer, letting her heartbeat settle, using the time to simply watch him. Myst hadn't leaned back into his earlier, casual posture. His expression stayed serious, his attention fixed entirely on his team. Like their training was the only thing that mattered. And she wasn't going to lie, there was just something about seeing him like this. The way he focused. How seriously he took training.

Considering how childish he could be, it made him seem… older. More grounded. Her teeth met her lip softly, and time seemed to stretch as she stood there. A few seconds slipped into a minute. One became two. Then three. She didn't really notice. She just watched him. The day had already been too long. Saying goodbye to Volkner and Flint. Arguing with Johanna. Snapping at Myst. Getting scolded by her grandmother.

Even before she had decided to apologize, she'd been exhausted—ready to go back to her room and collapse. So it felt strange that, standing here, she felt herself relax. Her thoughts quieted. The knot in her chest loosened. Even the lingering worry about him, about how he might react, faded into the background.

She could almost just close her eyes and just let herself— A stiff breeze swept across the clearing as the sun disappeared behind the horizon, and Cynthia jolted slightly as the sudden chill washed over her, cutting through her thoughts like a splash of cold water. … but that wasn't why she was here. She took a breath, steadying herself, and started walking again. When she reached him, she didn't say anything—just sat down beside him, pulling her jacket a little tighter around herself.

He didn't react, and she didn't try to interrupt him. Instead, she followed his gaze toward Swadloon. When she had watched him, she hadn't noticed at first. But as the minutes stretched, she had slowly realized something. Myst was definitely training his entire team, but even if that was the case Swadloon was receiving by far the most attention. Not just in the number of instructions, but in the way he watched her. It wasn't that he was ignoring Rei or Navi—he still gave them directions and instructions.

It was just that, compared to his focus on Swadloon, those felt almost automatic. More like brief reminders than anything else. Rei had really only gotten a single comment—the one earlier—while Navi had gotten maybe three. Swadloon though? Cynthia paused, mentally trying to count how many times Myst had attempted to explain the exact same concept. She gave up around eight. Sufficient to say, it was a lot.

As if to prove her point, Swadloon raised an arm, green energy condensing at the tip as a pale leaf formed almost instantly with careful, near-delicate precision. Myst immediately sighed.

"You're doing it again Swadloon. As I said, less focus on perfection. You don't need to control every aspect of Razor Leaf. Your control is already more than good enough. We are trying to make it more powerful, anything else can wait." At the critique, Swadloon froze. The forming Razor Leaf dissolved instantly, the gathered energy scattering harmlessly into the air. But, instead of the half-hearted acknowledgment she had given so far, this time she slowly turned toward him.

"Swad… loon." It wasn't loud or angry. Just… offended. Myst didn't react, nor did he back down. He met his Pokémon's gaze head-on, and when Swadloon still refused to yield, he slowly raised an arm and pointed toward the stone wall his team had been using for move practice. The silence stretched. Swadloon's gaze flicked from him to the wall, then back again. Her expression didn't change, but something in her posture shifted. Like she suddenly realized she was on the backfoot.

Cynthia smiled faintly at the exchange before glancing over at the wall as well. It was scarred—scratches, shallow cuts and deeper grooves carved into its surface. In one corner, there were even fist-shaped imprints driven deep into the stone, the surrounding rock cracked and warped, some sections scorched, others rimed with frost or faint burn marks. Not that Myst was pointing at the marks that were clearly Rei's. Her gaze shifted upward, settling on what had to be Swadloon's work. … huh?

She blinked, glancing back at Myst in surprise. She had expected there to be something wrong with Swadloon's Razor Leaf, but by the look of it, they were more than strong enough. If those cuts were hers, then judging by their depth, the attack must have buried itself into the stone—and then some. Even if Roselia pushed himself to his limit with Magical Leaf, he probably wouldn't have carved them much deeper… if he could manage something like that at all. After all, this wasn't ordinary rock.

The wall had been formed by a Rock-type Pokémon specifically for training—closer to the kind of stuff used to protect a Gym arena than anything natural. Damaging it at all was impressive, with most Pokémon failing to even leave a scratch before being strong enough for a third Gym badge. But Myst didn't move his hand. He just kept pointing. So Cynthia looked again. Seriously, what was he— Oh. She stopped herself from facepalming as the realization hit.

She'd focused entirely on the deeper cuts, and in her exhaustion her brain had somehow glossed over the rest. But higher up, scattered across the stone, were dozens more. Compared to the deeper grooves, they were far less noticeable—shallow lines only a few centimeters deep at best, some barely biting into the surface at all, with the faintest little more than white scratches across the rock.

"Your combination of String Shot and Razor Leaf is insanely strong," Myst said, pointing at the deeper cuts. Swadloon instantly puffed up slightly at his words, and she began to give him a vindicated look, but before she could Myst continued.

"But even then, it's still slower than just throwing Razor Leaf normally." His hand shifted upward, toward the faint marks.

"And more importantly, you can't neglect the force behind Razor Leaf itself." His tone stayed even, matter-of-fact.

"Right now, because of your control, you can form them insanely quickly. And when you use String Shot to launch them, that's enough. Any lack of power gets covered up by the sheer speed behind them." His hand rose towards the shallower cuts.

"But when you can't rely on String Shot to fire them out, they need to be stronger on their own." He let his hand fall, then looked directly at Swadloon.

"There are only two ways to do that. Either you get stronger on a base level, so you can mimic more of the speed you get from String Shot…" He stopped, giving her a pointed look.

"Or you can…?" Swadloon huffed softly.

"…Swadloon." She said, reluctantly. Myst's grin came instantly.

"Hey, don't be so sourly. You're right—you need to be able to put more type-energy into them." Swadloon's expression soured even more at his tone, her body stiffening ever so slightly.

"Swadloon, swad, swadloon." she said, her voice edged with quiet displeasure. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Myst's smile turned a touch helpless.

"I'm not mocking you, or saying you should stop using String Shot and Razor Leaf together. The reason I keep bringing it up is because I want you to get stronger. Because I want you to be able to keep using them." He tilted his head slightly.

"I mean, you do remember how your mock battle with Rei went, right?" Swadloon froze.

"You only got to use that Razor Leaf and String Shot combination once." Myst continued, without missing a beat." Once. After that, she closed the distance, and you never had time to use it again. Maybe it only takes you a split second to form it, but if it isn't actually doing damage, that won't help much against somebody like Rei." He paused.

"That's why I want you to work on Razor Leaf. Not because I want you to stop using your combinations, but so you can use them more often. It just, to do that, you need some way to establish control at close range. And right now?" He raised three fingers, "You kinda only have three options." One finger dropped.

"Bug Bite is one—but that needs even more work than your Razor Leaf right now." Another finger dropped.

"Struggle Bug is another, but it works better against ranged opponents, and it's not forceful enough to actually create space." He waggled the last one.

"So, in the short term, that really only leaves Razor Leaf. It's the move you're most familiar with, so it'll be the fastest to bring up to speed—and it's probably the best fit for the job anyway." Swadloon opened her mouth, clearly about to argue.

"Swa—" Myst gently cut her off.

"Of course, I know you wouldn't make the same mistake twice against Rei. And you do have that other variation that might've worked better. But even then, it runs into the same issue if Rei gets close enough. At very close range, it's hard to properly control Razor Leaf through String Shot." Swadloon's mouth snapped shut. A beat passed as the little grass-bug type just stared at him.

And even though Cynthia still couldn't understand a word she was saying, for some reason she suddenly felt like she knew exactly what the Grass–Bug type was thinking. What was the least embarrassing way to agree with him? Myst shifted slightly, looking like he was about to say something more— He didn't need to. A look of realization crossed Swadloon's face. It was like something clicked. Like she had suddenly figured out exactly where to place Myst—and how to take his words.

She walked over to him without hesitation, reached out, and patted his leg twice.

"Swadloon." A small nod followed, as if that settled the matter. Then, just as quickly, she turned around, walked back to the stone wall, and resumed her training—picking it up exactly where she had left off, but now with a sharper, more deliberate focus. Cynthia blinked, then glanced at Myst. He blinked back. For a few seconds they just stared at each other, before Cynthia slowly opened her mouth.

"What just happened?" She asked, feeling the whiplash at the sudden turn in Swadloon's attitude. Myst continued to look at her, before he slowly turned back to Swadloon.

"Uh… I think I just got promoted to Trainer?" he said, sounding faintly confused.

"…What?" Myst pursed his lips, a wry smile growing across his lips.

"Or, well, technically, I think I got promoted to something like a Prime Minister, but, you know. Same difference." Cynthia leveled him a flat look. Myst just shrugged.

"Honestly, that's the best explanation I've got. As far as I could tell, that's what she was trying to convey." Cynthia stared at him for a few seconds before following his gaze back toward Swadloon.

"…Prime Minister?" Myst nodded.

"Something like that. Though honestly, I think it's mostly because that's the closest reference point she has." He paused.

"Even now, I don't think she fully understands what a"—he made air quotes—"trainer actually is." At his words, Cynthia stilled. Then her eyes widened slightly. Myst nodded again.

"Yeah. She is from the Grass Kingdom after all. Like, even now, she still doesn't understand me." He shrugged lightly.

"She can communicate with Rei and Navi, and they help a ton, but it's not really the same." His gaze drifted back toward Swadloon.

"There's a reason I spent most of my time running simple drills and mock battles with her." A beat.

"Okay, the battles were because she needed the experience, but the drills were because I literally couldn't explain anything too complicated." Cynthia's gaze lingered on Swadloon as her thoughts drifted back to the training Myst had been focusing on since arriving in Hearthome. She had been wondering why so much of it had revolved around conditioning and fundamentals, especially when Ghost-types were notoriously difficult to handle through raw power alone.

But in the context of training around Swadloon's and his inability to properly communicate…

"…It makes sense," Cynthia said, more to herself than to him.

"If no one ever taught her how to understand humans, then she'd have to figure it out on her own. And that means it would take about as long for her to understand you, as it does for you to understand her."

"Pretty much," Myst said.

"Though she is definitely way better than me already. It's still very much a work in progress on my side." He scratched lightly at his cheek.

"I think the whole communicating-through-Aura thing is just easier for Pokémon." Cynthia continued to stare at Swadloon for a couple of seconds longer, until Myst nudged her for her answer. She shook her head and opened her mouth.

"Well, at least you got through to her in the end. Honestly, I was wondering why you kept repeating the same thing so many times instead of just explaining it properly. But I guess you thought she wouldn't really understand yet?" Myst made a so-so gesture.

"Eh, I was just throwing things at the wall to see what stuck. Before you got here, I did try a few different explanations, but none of them really clicked for her. She'd just… go back to doing things her own way." He paused.

"Some part of me was actually starting to get a little worried." Cynthia sent him a look.

"Worried? After a week? Why would you? Even if she had—" She cut herself off. Oh. Cynthia resisted the urge to slam a palm into her face, but only barely. When she was little, one of the first things her grandmother had drilled into her was that Pokémon all had different temperaments. Most would listen after agreeing to join a trainer—but there were always exceptions. Dragon-types especially. Or Pokémon that were used to leading others. Those could take weeks before they truly accepted a trainer's guidance.

Sometimes months. Occasionally even years. Swadloon? Given her apparent position in the Sewaddle tribe, it could easily have taken far longer before she properly accepted his training. Some part of her had kind of thought he might have troubles with her for months. For Myst to complain about it taking a week… Cynthia sighed. Myst gave her a look.

"What?" Cynthia shook her head.

"Just lamenting my fate," she muttered, before continuing more normally, "But you really shouldn't worry about that. Some Pokémon just need time before they actually accept a trainer's guidance. It's especially common with Dragon-types, or those who were pack leaders. For example, it took over a year before Queenie even decided to pretend to listen, so if she's really decided to respect you as her trainer, you should consider yourself lucky."

"…Hey, nobody said anything about feeling unlucky." He lifted an arm and, without asking, draped it around her shoulders, pulling her a little closer as he smiled down at her.

"I'll have you know, I feel very lucky." Cynthia felt warmth creep into her cheeks, and instinctively she almost snapped out a quiet shut up. She stopped herself a second before the first syllable could leave her tongue. …Right. Her expression stiffened for just a moment before she forced it back into something more neutral. Myst still noticed. His smile faltered slightly as he started to pull his arm back.

"Sorry, I—" She grabbed his sleeve before he could, holding his arm in place around her.

"Don't," she said quickly. Then, softer, "It's not that." Her grip lingered for a second longer than necessary before loosening. Myst stopped pulling away, but sent her a curious look. She let her gaze drop to the ground.

"…Sorry about earlier today," she began quietly.

"I didn't mean to snap at you. I wasn't really angry at you to begin with, just frustrated in general and having a bad day. But I shouldn't take it out on you like that." Myst blinked in surprise, his mouth opening to respond, before he paused. Cynthia dared a glance at him but only met his pursed lips.

"…I did think it was a little unfair," he admitted slowly.

"I mean, I'm sorry you ended up feeling cornered, but, like, what exactly was I supposed to do there? Jump in and back you up?" He tilted his head.

"Because I kind of have a feeling that if I'd done that, you probably wouldn't have been very happy with me either…" He trailed off with a faintly dejected expression before letting out a sigh and lowering his gaze to the grass, his hair falling forward enough to partly hide his face. Cynthia felt a pang in her chest and opened her mouth to respond, but—"I feel so bad," Myst mumbled mournfully.

"Truly, irreparably wounded." He let out a dramatic sigh.

"I think I need encouragement from somebody if I'm ever going to recover…" He paused for just a beat.

"Preferably from a beautiful girl with long legs and pretty grey eyes." She froze.

"In fact, I could even narrow down the exact things that would help me recover. A hug would probably get me back to around fifty percent. A kiss? At least eighty. And—" Cynthia immediately stood up, throwing his arm off her shoulders as she stared down at him. At him— And his absolutely shameless grin. Her eyes narrowed. He blinked guilelessly.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"I am trying to seriously apologize." She hissed, face burning. Myst just leaned back on his hands, lifting an eyebrow.

"Well, apology seriously accepted." She stared down at him, caught somewhere between annoyance and reluctant gratitude at how casually he was taking this. It wasn't like she wanted him to stay angry or reject her apology, but somehow him brushing past it this easily was aggravating in its own way.

"…Encouragement." Cynthia finally said flatly. Myst instantly adopted the same dejected expression as before.

"You don't want to?" he mumbled sadly.

"I guess I was expecting too much…" He paused just long enough to glance at her. The moment his eyes met her glare, he hurriedly wiped away a fake tear. Really. Cynthia felt her eyebrow twitch as the last remnants of guilt rapidly gave way to something dangerously close to annoyance. Honestly, part of her wanted to just turn around and leave. The day had already been exhausting enough without Myst deciding to act like this. But she didn't. Because, in the end, it was only almost annoyance.

Instead, as Myst desperately tried to suppress what was obviously a grin, Cynthia found herself looking him up and down instead. After all, it was probably somewhat rare to find somebody who, after getting scolded, immediately tried to make her feel better instead. Her grandmother's words from earlier drifted back through her mind, and before she could stop it, a small smile tugged at her lips. He might be an idiot, but at least he was her idiot. Slowly, Cynthia crouched down until they were eye level. …

Encouragement, huh. She carefully suppressed her smile.

"…What was it you said you wanted?" she asked, voice soft enough to barely carry. Myst blinked.

"Eh—" Before he could finish, Cynthia shifted forward, levering herself onto his legs before scooting closer.

"A hug?" Her face was probably burning bright red by now, but she couldn't quite bring herself to care. She leaned into him, wrapping her legs loosely around his waist as her hands settled against his shoulders. It was a strange feeling, being above him like this. Usually Myst was the one smiling down at her. Now, though? Now she could see every tiny reaction play across his face. The delicate arch of his eyebrows. The way his blue eyes widened like a startled Shinx.

The flush spreading rapidly across his cheeks until even the tips of his ears turned red. It was enough to make her mind go blank. She had only meant to tease him a little—get back at him for his earlier words. But seeing him like this, flustered and completely caught off guard, sent a thrill through her chest that spread like wildfire until suddenly she couldn't focus on anything but him.

"Cynthia?" he squeaked out. She didn't answer. Instead, mind still blank, she leaned closer until their foreheads nearly touched.

"Or a kiss?" she breathed. Myst froze. Just for a second. Her smile turned dazzling, and almost involuntarily, she leaned in the rest of the way and kissed him softly. Myst didn't pull away. Even as his brain seemed to short-circuit, instinct still made his hands find her waist, fingers tightening slightly as he pulled her closer and kissed her back. A heartbeat passed before they finally separated. When they did, Myst stared up at her with wide eyes, his breathing just a little uneven.

"Cynthia," he repeated. This time it sounded far closer to a warning. The sound sent another rush through her. A hot, dizzy warmth that spread through her chest and curled low in her stomach as she looked down at him. Every awful part of the day—the arguments, the frustration, the exhaustion, the embarrassment—felt strangely distant now. All of it had faded into the background somewhere along the way. Right now, all she could focus on was him. The warmth beneath her hands. The way he was looking at her.

The fact that, for once, she was the one leaving him flustered. And maybe that was why she didn't stop. Didn't answer. Instead, she leaned in again, trying to close the distance just a little more, greedy to see how much redder she could make him— She screamed as the world suddenly spun. One moment she was leaning over him. The next, Myst suddenly moved. Twisting sharply, he dragged them sideways into the grass, rolling over her a second later.

Suddenly he was above her, looking down at her as his hair fell around them like a curtain.

"Cynthia." He repeated for the third time. She looked up at him blankly. He was still flushed red, but the embarrassment from earlier had changed into something sharper. His expression had gone strangely still, all the easy teasing and dramatics stripped away so completely it almost didn't feel like him. Even his eyes looked different. Pupils dilated, fixed on her with an intensity that sent heat crawling up her spine. Cynthia opened her mouth, intending to answer him with a confident grin.

"Yes?" The word came out as a breathless squeak instead—small and startled, like some tiny creature realizing far too late that it had wandered directly into a predator's den. For some reason, Myst did not seem particularly sympathetic to her situation.