Chương 93: Chapter 75

I staggered into the Pokémon Center praying, for maybe the first time ever in my life, that I'd recognize the pink-haired woman behind the counter. My partners had managed to navigate to the city streets, probably courtesy of the sole conscious Maus, considering that they were still holding my Pokégear clutched in their little paws. I'd fallen into a stupor somewhere along the way, but a jolt of syn from Mana and a splash of water awoke me on the red-roofed building's threshold.

Pushing myself upright on my own had proven itself harder than I expected, and when I finally did lever my body into a standing position, a sudden bout of dizziness almost sent me sprawling again. Shields and metal and water rose to catch me, and with my knights keeping my legs steady and Klang gently rolling beneath my shoulders, I pushed through the glass doors separating the oasis of calm from Techne's chaotic streets.

Because for all the insanity wracking our region right now, Pokémon Center's remained inviolate. A place of healing, or recovery, and of peace, no conflict was welcome within these hallowed halls of healing. Which left me feeling like a dire intruder, as my partners half-helped, half-carried me through the lobby, past a spreading sea of hushed onlookers. And yet, for all the crowd made-way for my limping form, the Joy at the counter wasn't content to wait.

"Guardians! Fione, is that you?" I tried to blink past the harsh, fluorescent lights currently dyeing my eyes with an impenetrable lustre.

"Last time I checked," I forced my voice to say, though doing so felt oddly less like speaking, and more like moving the mouth of a puppet up and down.

"Is that– Rie?"

"It's Ray, and right now it's Nurse Joy." a familiar voice caught somewhere between horror and exasperation informed me as the woman approached.

"Fione, you need to get to a hospital," there was a quiet urgency in the older woman's voice, and I could feel her gaze directed at the weeping laceration on my arm, the one that hung limply from the sphere of water Mana was yet still maintaining, though calling the majority of the liquid contained therein 'water' would probably be inaccurate by this point. I pointedly did not look at the mostly-crimson sphere.

"The hospital," I sucked in a deep breath, as a twinge ran through my back, like some sort of autonomic process was trying to keep me from saying what I had to, "can wait. We need to talk about business first. Family business." Ray had been gearing up to object before I'd said that magic word, and I could watch the protest die in her throat, her good sense neatly overwhelmed by a sort of instilled loyalty I was only just beginning to grasp around the edges of.

"Golems Fione, I hope you don't know what you're talking about." And yet she couldn't afford the chance that I did, and thus I was led into the Pokémon Center's bowels, past the confused and the gossiping and the fascinated and the uncaring. My partners continued to buoy my steps, keeping the searing edges of agony from rendering me immobile completely. And as soon as we were free of the public eye, my mouth began moving, sounds similar enough to words emerging from it.

"I fought Scythe." Ray stumbled, but to her credit kept moving. If anything, she accelerated her pace, gesturing for my partners to assist me in keeping up.

"Scythe, the notorious criminal, killer, and now terrorist?"

"You know of him?" I asked, doubly surprised by the revelation, and that my shock could still communicate through the ragged impression I was calling a voice.

"I didn't, until Agrasia reached out to everyone this morning and told us that he's responsible for what happened to Ella," Ray informed me, unknowingly Chatoting back to me what I'd informed my great-aunt of this morning.

"And apparently, this isn't the first time he's gone after Joys." That part was news to me.

"I had him on the ropes, but he managed to slink away when security showed up," I couldn't help the unconscious growl that escaped my throat, though it did my burning voice box no favors.

"That's why I can't go to a hospital. I– sort of blew up a street during our battle." This time, Ray couldn't resist turning a shocked gaze over her shoulder at me. Whatever she saw evoked a full body shudder from the older woman.

"Blew up– like you tore the pavement up?"

"No, as in, a whole city block doesn't exist recognizably as a road anymore," the explanation wasn't mine, and we both turned our heads as a second Joy joined our odd procession, this one between Ray's age and my mother's. The nurse was carrying a rather advanced-looking Pokégear in one hand, and a clipboard in the other, the pair of which she kept glancing between.

"The news is already reporting on it. Scythe was identified, but the girl's still an unknown. Someone will figure it out soon though, she's got the only Falinks and Wishiwash in the region."

"Hence coming here," I concluded.

"My partners and I need treatment, and we need it discreetly."

"Fione–" Ray replied, uncertainty rife in her tone.

"We can't just– did you hurt anyone? I mean– a whole street? What does a whole street me–" The Joy was cut off, as her more no-nonsense relative pushed the Pokégear into the leading woman's hands. Her steps slowed for a moment, and the newcomer overtook her, now leading the way into a treatment theater.

"Get on the table girl." I staggered over to the padded slab of metal, and my partners helped me lay down upon it, front down.

"Fucking hell," I heard a breathless whisper from outside the room. Ray entered, her face pallid beyond the normal pale affect worn by most of her clan.

"And I'll do worse before I give up on stopping the man who put my mom in a coma," I swore, "who's as we speak trying to kill my best friend's partner." That brought the younger Joy up short, but she quickly rallied.

"We can explain things to security Fione. Let's go to them, before things get even more blown out of cont–" She was cut off again, this time by a creaking, crackling cackle, gurgling from the back of my throat like bubbles out of a swamp.

"No chance Ray. Even supposing they accept my explanation, they'd need to detain my partners and I while things shake out. And we can't afford that. Not right now." Not while Scythe was still in the wind. Not while I hadn't yet found my father. Gentle hands cut the clothes off my back, and I heard the older Joy smother a sharp intake of breath as she saw what lay beneath my blood-soaked coat.

"Forget being detained, you're going to spend the next four weeks in a hospital bed," Ray prophesized as the damage was revealed, her voice riding the line of nausea and relief.

"I don't understand how you're even still conscious right now."

"Because I'm not resting until Scythe is behind bars, or in the dirt," I informed her plainly.

"And that's not the only thing I have to do besides. I don't have time to waste away in a bed right now."

"Merna, this is insanity!" Ray was pleading by this point, imploring the other Joy.

"Why are you going along with this?"

"If her being family wasn't reason enough?" the other Joy laughed darkly, "then because you and I are without any other real choice in the matter."

"What do you mean," I could hear the frown of confusion in Ray's voice as something cool and yet burning was placed on my destroyed back..

"Ray, her partners annihilated ten meters of solid, Techne road at her command. These partners. The ones in the room with us, right now," she gestured at the carefully nonchalant Pokémon that flooded the treatment room, a dozen bodies and change very specifically not staring, or glaring, or doing anything at all that might be considered coercion. Nothing except for exerting their very presence on the space they inhabited.

"Oh," the younger Joy's voice was very small, and part of me withered and died as it recognized the fear in it. And yet what was vile poison to one part of my being, was surely sweet nourishment for another. - My understanding of pain attained new dimensions as my step-relations worked. A yet third Joy had begun treating my partners, who refused to leave my side except to receive the specialized, Poké Ball-necessitating treatment of a healing machine.

I had little attention to spare for them, rotten though that made me feel. Simply maintaining my consciousness against the onslaught of agony nearly eclipsed my current capability, even and in spite of my mind sequestering the worst of it beyond my normal attention. So stricken and so reduced was I by my encounter with the killer, it was all I could do to maintain a mere half-dozen threads of thought, nowhere near enough to insulate my main focus from the constant, tortuous pain.

Were I more fully of myself, I might have weathered the ministrations of the Joys better, but in my current state of advanced distress, I could just narrowly maintain my own consciousness, and accomplish little more. The sweet embrace of blissful oblivion called to me, but I knew within myself that should I succumb, I'd not wake from my rest until recovery had taken me far more thoroughly than my present circumstances would allow, so I forced myself to resist that dire temptation.

"I didn't go looking for him, you know," the words came out of me unprompted, a lacking attempt at justifying myself and a desperate plea towards self-distraction all entwined together.

"I went to my best friend's apartment. He was lying in wait." Silence stretched for a few moments, as Merna continued her grim work, before she finally found words with which to pretend an answer.

"That must have been terrifying." Terrifying. Had it been? To find my best friend's home so deeply violated? To return to a place of familiarity and safety, and been ambushed by a man for whom murder was as mundane as meals? Surely, it must have been. Terror, sharp and cruel and paralyzing. A horror I could no more comprehend than I could imagine. That must have been the case.

Indeed, when next I woke, it would likely be sweating and screaming and swearing and clawing against some fresh nightmare given form by my tormented psyche to remind me how near to the edge I'd wandered. That's what had happened the last time oblivion had nearly claimed me. And the time before that. Surely I was not yet inured to the harsh, uncompromising realization of my own imminent mortality. Surely, when I had time to rest, those feelings would catch up to me.

And until then, they'd remain smothered by the uncompromising, burning core of rage blistering a hole through my heart and guts.

"It was," I replied, uncertain to whom I was lying.

"We tried to escape, but his Golbat hit us with a Mean Look, so we had to stand our ground."

"Mean Look," Ray's confused voice sounded from my left, punctuated by the piercing prick of something diving in and out of the skin and flesh of my forearm.

"It must be a move that prevents switching for fleeing," the older Joy correctly inferred from the context.

"They have no use in Ferrum Battles, but other regions find reasons to employ them. Some dire, like in this case."

"Well– why didn't you lead with that?" Ray asked, her voice dripping with something between relief and exasperation.

"Because what would it change?" I asked in reply, my face set resolutely down at the ground as I continued to lay on my stomach atop the frigid operating table.

"I mean– everything, right?" my step-something or other asked like she wanted to believe it true.

"I thought– I mean, you made it sound like you were hunting this guy down, Fe. Not defending yourself!" Part of my mind replayed the conversation in my head, swiftly recognizing the truth in her words, and then immediately discarding it.

"Whether he found me, or I found him, I think the end result would have been the same."

"But– I mean," the sewing stopped, uncertain hands hovering unsteadily over my maimed limb.

"He forced you into that position, right? You had to fight, or he'd capture you, or– or worse."

"We had to defend ourselves. I could have just focused on keeping myself safe. City-security would have shown up eventually." I made no attempt to justify myself.

"Instead, you went for the kill," the voice was dry, and matter-of-fact, but I was figuring out that Merna felt more deeply than she portrayed. It came through in the sudden hesitance in her motions, audible to the part of my attention focused on her as she replaced the IV bag plugged into my body.

"Worse, I asked my partners to," I informed them dully.

"Maus, Maushold," a squeaking voice came from somewhere behind me. The sole conscious maus, still on watch right now, made their opinion known through a rather concise statement. And we'd do it again. Neither woman responded, though whether it was due to a lack of comprehension, or from understanding too much, I could not tell. - The laundry list of injuries my partners and I had accumulated was, predictably, rather dire.

I'd broken my scapula, either during my fall, or when I'd gotten hit by the Zoroark's Dark Pulse. Some of the Dark-type energy from the boosted move had leeched through my syn, killing large chunks of skin on my back. The dead cells had to be peeled away, leaving weeping wounds pasted over with bitter herbal cures and liquified Chansey egg. What wasn't bleeding was bruised, huge angry spots of black and purple that coated my back in a mottled layer of pain and discoloration.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Worse than my back, however, was my arm. Like I'd feared, the Scyther's blade had cut me to the bone, severing two tendons and preventing me from unclenching my index and middle fingers. That'd taken surgery to treat, but by this point, Mana was back, her syn restored by the center's healing machine.

She'd still need a full night of rest to be in truly perfect shape, but she was easily strong enough to manifest her school, should she need to. More importantly, she was well enough to share some of her syn with me, energy wiring between us through the twin shards of stone concealed on our persons. Neither Joy noticed the subtle glow from my strange bracelet, set on my uninjured arm as it was. They were too focused on the treatment, and on their incredulity at my ability to ignore the pain it was causing me.

The fresh infusion of syn from my piscine partner rendered the agony bearable, if only barely, and each of my partners that joined me further buoyed my morale and capabilities. Maushold was fully conscious again, suffering no great injury beyond syn-exhaustion and some minor bruising where they'd been struck by the Hitmonpair's Fighting-type moves. My knights were somehow in worse shape, despite having not gone down.

They were one and all covered in a myriad of bruises and cuts visible in those places on their body not covered in armor. Those sections that did have a covering of carapace showed instead pockmarks and pitting, breaking the normally-smooth expanse with lingering evidence of our pitched battle. They'd all be fine within a few days, the benefits of a Pokémon's constitution, but some of the marks would linger.

At least none of them seemed at all concerned with their own scrapes and scratches, eager instead to fuss over their brothers' injuries, and mine. Somehow, the most in danger had been Klang. While they had no exterior wounds to their metal shell, they'd burned through too much electricity in one day, in spite of their constant refilling.

They could charge themselves once again, and had done so without hesitation, but the third Joy strongly advised against utilizing any more energy for the day, lest they more permanently harm their ability to store and expend electricity. I ended the treatment course sitting atop the surgical table, dressed in the spare outfit from my satchel (since Pokémon Center's didn't carry surgical gowns), freshly dried from the center's laundry room.

My left arm was hauled up in a sling, and firmly immobilized against my chest to keep it from moving. My back was a patchwork of bandages and puckering bruises, a brutal canvas of whites and browns and purples covered by a slightly toasty jacket. I wanted to go tearing off in pursuit of Scythe– but I could admit that I likely wasn't up for another confrontation today, nor was I about to ask my partners to risk it. Also, I had no idea where he was, or how I'd go about finding him.

Apparently, at some point during my treatment, City-Security had been by the center, and then subsequently sent on their way, hopefully none-the-wiser to my presence. Witnesses had seen me arriving, but my mom's family covered for me by saying that they'd forced me to travel to a hospital for my injuries instead of staying here. They set me up in an unused break room, and one of the Chansey's brought my partners and I lunch from the staff cafeteria, though by this point it was more of an early dinner.

I hadn't eaten much today, and neither had my partners (Klang notwithstanding), so the food was well-appreciated, even if the quality left much to be desired. The downtime was nice, and it created a much-needed opportunity to decompress, and debrief after our latest fight for our lives.

"Mana, Klang, great job on defense. You really locked down our side of the battlefield, and punished Scythe's team when they pushed too hard. Especially outnumbered as you were." Mana and the small number of constructs she had out all nodded in sync, while Klang ground their gears in a sound of acknowledgement.

"Maushold, your Population Bomb was incredible. It was everything I could ask for and more." The praise earned me mixed signals from my partners. They seemed appreciative enough, but I could tell they were still a little bit bothered.

"I know you didn't get him, but you hit him with as hard of a move as any of us could. The fact that he didn't go down wasn't your fault, it was mine for not having something ready for after you flipped the field." That mollified them a bit, and they went back to their food with a bit more alacrity than they'd had so far.

"Knights, thanks for keeping those Hitmons busy. I know asking you to fight two-on-one was a lot, but I saw you guys holding your own and more out there."

"Falinks," Tristan grumbled, discontent bubbling in his voice.

"Fafalinks."

"It's not your fault that the Zoroark made it past you. Those illusions make them almost impossible to corral."

"Falinks," Lance refuted, but he hesitated before elaborating any further. I waited patiently, and after a few moments, Percy elaborated in his stead.

"Falinks, fafaflilinks. Link fa falinks."

"It's not just that she got by you, it's that she didn't stay down after your Close Combat?" I asked, making sure I'd understood correctly.

"Falinks. Falinfalinks," Bers said darkly, his horn pointed down and his eyes staring at the ground. The implication was heavy and obvious in his voice. We could have finished her. Silence reigned in the break room for a few moments, all of us processing my knights' words. Maushold were nodding, agreeing with the sentiment, while Mana was looking quietly horrified at the admission.

Klang peered back and forth between the two sides, stuttering uncertainly as they spun, clearly disconcerted by the idea, but not outright willing to state their disagreement. Which meant it fell to me to refute them.

"You did the right thing." My partners all looked to me, my knights hopeful, Mana relieved, Maushold incredulous, and Klang confused.

"Remember, Zoroark might be as much a victim of Scythe's abuse as anyone. As any of the rest of his partners. Fighting to defend ourselves is one thing. Defeating them is one thing. But– doing that to a downed opponent? I would never ask that of any of you. Would never expect you to make that sort of decision." My words washed over my partners, most of them relaxing as they parsed the statement. Only Maushold looked unsettled, and I turned to them next.

"Ultimately, Scythe is the one responsible for his Pokémon. If he died in the fighting– well, I wouldn't shed any tears. And still I wouldn't have asked you to kill him in cold blood if he'd gotten knocked out by your attack." That seemed to mollify them somewhat, but I could still sense some discontent from the trio of Normal-types. I wasn't exactly sure on what part they disagreed, and I wasn't willing to leave it to fester.

"I know not finishing enemies off can have bad results, but we need to do the right thing, not worry about what could go wrong." A few seconds passed, before one of the mauses, the littlest one, shook their oversized head.

"Maus, maushold," they tried to explain hesitatingly, clearly uncertain about how to fully get their point across.

"I'm sorry, I don't know if I get the sticking point? Something about determination?"

"Maushold," this time, there was more certainty in their squeaks.

"Maushold, mausmausholdmaus." They'd taken my good hand, and were running their paws up and down it, giving me access to the tactile part of their language.

"Why a victim?" I confirmed, trying to parse the complicated sentiment.

"Why are they, or is it we? Not responsible?"

"Maushold," they clarified, explaining slightly slower. I rocked back, the full question finally clear, but no less difficult to answer for said clarity. Maushold wanted to know why I'd consider any of Scythe's partners as victims, when they were clearly so willing to fight and kill us. Where was the line, they'd asked, that delineated responsibility between human and Pokémon. This time, it was my turn to rub my head over their fuzzy little skull.

"We're only responsible for what we decide to do. Yes Scythe's partners were willing to fight and even murder us, but they only did so at his command. Yes you three destroyed a city street, but you only did it because I ordered you to. Do you see?" They nodded slowly, but I could still feel some uncertainty in their trembling form.

"Let me put it another way," I tried.

"If I told you to defend yourselves, or keep us safe, or something along those lines, and you went out of your way to brutalize our opponents, or even kill them, I'd consider you responsible for that outcome. Do you see?" They still weren't sold, and they put their paws on either side of my hand.

"Maushold. Mausmaus." The sentiment was complicated, but it helped that I'd heard the concern before. Been thinking about it recently, with regards to recent events in Ferrum itself. But you did tell us to deal with Scythe, just like he ordered his partners to kill us. Do any of us deserve to be absolved of responsibility for just 'following orders?' I took a shuddering breath, the question piercing the justification I'd built and deflating it like a leaking balloon.

"That's–" I swallowed thickly, and for maybe the first time I could remember, I didn't have a good answer for one of my partners' questions.

"I… don't think it can be simplified into a binary," I was forced to admit, my voice hoarse and halting.

"I guess… I guess the context matters. If you followed orders because you'd have been in danger if you hadn't… but sometimes you are supposed to take a stand." My partners were quiet, watching me wrestle with the question that'd been given to me. I took a few deep breaths, forcing my arguing threads into some semblance of orders.

"I think– I think there's no one right answer. I know that's not satisfying– I'm sorry. I wish I had something better to say." I took a few more shuddering breaths.

"If I asked too much of you– if I made you cross some sort of line–""Maushold maus," one of the larger mauses joined the smaller, placing their paw atop my hand.

"Mauhold."

"I know I didn't make you do anything. But I did give the order."

"Maushold," the third replied, joining their fellows. And we followed it, they told me, all three of them staring up into my eyes. I swallowed thickly, my left hand twitching as little gasps of agony ran up and down my shattered forearm.

"Yes. And I've never been more thankful. So I'll take responsibility for giving the order, if you'll take responsibility for following it?" My request was met with solemn nods, and patting paws. I took a shuddering breath, and nodded back to them.

"We're trapped in some deep currents guys. I might– I might ask you to hurt other people again. But just because I'm willing to do something, doesn't mean any of you should be willing to as well. I want to go after Scythe. Even now. And I'd kill him if I had to," the admission hurt, and also felt like relief, as if something inside me had burst and was no longer laying pressure inside my guts, "but it'd never be my first choice. And I'd never begrudge any of you for refusing to do the same.

Certainly not in cold blood. Not when there's another way," that was directed at my knights, who'd started looking upset again.

"I know– I know that's a slippery slope. Justifications are dangerous. That's why we need to talk things out like this. Need to make sure we're still on the right path." I made sure to meet each of my partners' eyes, to get an acknowledgement from all of them.

"Today was hard– and it won't always be like this," I promised our newest members, "but none of you did anything today I'd be ashamed of. Just the opposite, I'm beyond proud of each and every one of you. I hope– I hope you all feel the same way about me," my little impromptu speech petered off, the last few words a futile whisper. It was my turn to look down, unable to meet my partners' eyes. A few seconds of silence stretched into five, and then ten, before Mana finally broke it.

"Washi, wash wash," she told me, as a cooling crown of water settled over my head. For her, the only thing that mattered was that we all walked away from the battle.

"Links," my knights agreed in a chorus of affirmations, their bodies rocking up and down as they nodded, with only one caveat. That we walked away the victors.

"Klangkaklang," my newest partner hedged.

"Klang klang klang, lalaklang," their explanation was halting, but Maushold helpfully moved their paws atop my hand, serving in part to mostly translate. The Steel-types wish we'd gotten Scythe, but they were just happy that they hadn't lost any of their newfound family today.

"Maushold maus," they cautioned once Klang was finished.

"Mauhold." They agreed that we had to be careful with our justifications, but they stood by their own actions. And mine. My vision began to swim, and I fought the urge to rub at my eyes with my good hand.

"Thanks everyone. I'm glad we're all oka–" I hesitated as I saw my partner' eyes flick to my sling, "alive. It wasn't a sure thing, but we're all here, together, and that is what matters." I took a few shuddering breaths, and fought to bring my voice under control.

"Klang, I know as far as first days go, this has been a pretty wild one. Are you still–""Klang!" they cut me off, the meaning of their outburst clear. Forever.

"And I meant it," I swore to them.

"If you're not reconsidering, then neither am I." They shook back and forth, and a fragile grin found its way onto my face.

"Hey, I know it's a bit early yet, but would you guys like it if I gave you a nickname?"

"Klang?" they tilted uncertainly, and the sound of their gears winding up against one another almost kept me from hearing a small squeak of surprise from the table. Surprise, and maybe just a hint of indignation. I turned to Maushold, who'd all Clamperled up, the three of them looking anywhere but at me. I studied the three of them, a thin string of horror running through me.

"Did– did you three want me to give you nicknames?" The trio stiffened at the question, and now they looked– guilty. Like they were coveting something they didn't deserve. My stomach flipped inside my chest, and for a moment, it felt like I was about to throw up.

"Arceus," I swore, my voice choking with horror and regret, "I'm so sorry guys. I didn't– I never thought you wanted me to give you a human nickname." That got all three of them to turn to me, eyes widened in an obvious question that they gave voice to anyway, "Maushold?"

"Because– I mean, you guys already have names. Or, things you call each other, right? I didn't want to trample on that." I demonstrated what I meant, moving my index and ring finger along the littlest mauses head in a very particular pattern. They stiffened as my digits traced the familiar form on their body, and they looked up at me with utter surprise on their face.

"It goes like this, right. And you're this," I demonstrated another pattern on one of the remaining two mauses, "and for you it's this," and then a third on the last. All three of them had gone stock still, as if I'd done something to short out their tiny brains.

"I figured since you already referred to each other like this, you didn't want me giving you stupid human nicknames, or something." Slowly, all three of them shook their heads, awe and gratitude warring on their expressions with resentment and exasperation.

"I shouldn't have assumed," I breathed, my eyes welling up again.

"I'm so, so, so sorry guys. I should– I should have asked." The trio looked at one another, and then turned back to me, their own eyes overflowing.

"Maus, maushold," they said, all three of them speaking over one another. We should have too. I couldn't help the sad little chuckle that forced its way out between my hitching breaths.

"I guess that's another thing we can share responsibility for," I told them, wiping futilely at my eyes. Once they were clear enough that I could see the trio, I pointed at each of them in turn.

"Rai, Sui, and Tei." The three mauses staggered back at the quick pronouncement, but I wasn't done.

"Rai, like the guardian of the plains. The one who can't be contained, ever rising, like lightning towards the sky." The one I'd been thinking of as Nidoqueen, the maus who was so often the last one standing, against Apex, against Sabrina, against Scythe, the one who never gave up, whose voice rang like thunder.

"Sui, like the guardian of the lake. Sensitive and true, but as inexorable and omnipresent as the tide." The one I'd referred to in my head as Nidoking, the maus most willing to protect the others. The one even now covered in scars and bruises beneath their fur, because they'd never hesitate to try and keep one of their fellows safe, whether they were covering for an exploding synergy stone, or pushing another maus out of the way of an incoming Hitmonchan.

They were the one who could move most like water, always where they needed to be.

"Tei, like the guardian of the hills. Passion and determination given form, burning like the brightest flame. I've always seen the fire in your eyes." The littlest maus. The one who never lost sight of the goal, who'd never waver in their determination. When trying to free their fellows when we first met, when battling a monstrous Alakazam, or a terrifying Unfezant, they were the one whose jaws closed like a collapsing mountain.

"I've know what I'd call you for the longest time," I let out another damp chuckle.

"I just– I hope you like them." All three mauses had collapsed on their butts and were feeling at their bodies, staring at one another like they'd never seen each other before. I turned, looking again at my newest partners.

"And you two–" I paused, making sure I had all four of their eyes.

"That's what a nickname is. Something from me to you. A gift, but also an expectation." I took a deep breath, and offered a shaky smile.

"So, what do you say?"