Now, to be fair, one of the Mantine he owned (of which there were two) was also understandably upset when he broke the news that she wasn’t hitting the beach this year.

“Brings back… memories, doesn’t it?” he muttered quietly as he looked over to his—well, last year they weren’t boyfriends yet at that point in time, however towards the end of the month…

Hehe.

“Remember how you taught me how to dive?” he added as… just for old time’s sake, he strapped the arm floaters on because holy shit in a handbasket diving still terrified him.

“Well…”

A quick peck on the cheek and a reassuring hand squeeze later, he then took his first extremely hesitant dive back into the salty brine.

(Of course he was diving closer to the end of the day after all. Bad sun.)

His Corvisquire didn’t even move an inch—as it turned out, she’d fallen asleep with that hilarious-looking pose on the ground.

“Hey,” he called to the Shelgon, as he’d seen the other one snap up more than what they should’ve taken, “…be nice and share,” he added as he gestured for just the Bagon to approach (should they want) so he could hand them more treats because the Shelgon decided to be a greedy lil’ shite.

“Oh, my god,” he chuckled as he bit into the apple to stall for time.

“You—you’re not going to believe where we first met, but it’s so corny I’m just…” he couldn’t resist breaking out into a fit of laughter!

“You—do you remember those speed dating events? The ones that usually happen around Slateport during February?”

Oh, the memory was still so very fresh. Like it had just happened yesterday.

“We first met there. And one of my Wooloos decided to embarrass me in front of him!”

If there was one thing he remembered that Ruby Walker had mentioned about fae, it was about how giving one’s name to a fae creature meant surrendering oneself to them.

(It also kind of reminded him of this movie that happened in a bath house, or something, About losing a name and then getting it back.)

Either way, those words from his friend really did have some semblance of truth, didn’t they? He still couldn’t shake off the discomfort that was settling around him though, considering that this was a forest and—

It didn’t take too long for the clearing to materialize into an actual location with a castle far off in the distance.

“Th-thank you,” he continued quietly as he watched his first companion transform into a swarm of butterflies before going off to who knew where—and then he was approached by another.

“I—I didn’t, which I take might be a good thing for me?” he inquired. Okay, that was his first question that definitely affirmed the current situation—names were important in this place.

“How can I get out of here, do I have to do anything specific?” was his next inquiry.

He was sweating like a criminal on trial now.

Here it was: the problem, front and center.

He had to bite down the cringe that threatened to flash across his face the moment Navy mentioned his ‘accolades’, short as they were.

“I’m too soft.”

There, he said it.

Only one other person knew about this humongous flaw and it was the other half of his universe (hello there Guillermo Marceliño) and if word got out to Team Rocket of all people that one of the region’s longest-serving Gym Leaders was actually a—

“You know how the Elite Four push battling to the extreme?” he tried to tackle the problem in a different manner. Hopefully the other would understand what he was trying to convey.

“I’m not that kind of a trainer. I acknowledge and understand that the Pokémon I have with me are my partners. Hell, they’re my lifelong companions, but to push them beyond what they’re capable of, to the point of cruelty?”

And then he let the cringe he’d been holding back actually flash across his features for a few moments before deciding—he could start chipping away at the walls he’d put up so long ago.

Removing the fingerless glove he wore on his right hand for a moment, he showed the other man the backside of said hand, where a paler line of flesh hinted at a previous injury. And if that wasn’t enough? He’d pull down the scarf he wore around his neck, along with the turtleneck he was wearing to hide it—to reveal a particularly nasty set of scars that marked his neck.

“I’m too soft for my own good. Someone almost killed me a few years ago, back in Fortree. I’m more than certain that person is in Team Rocket. And I can’t stand being defenseless any longer.”

Was it time to release the brutality? Maybe…

“Well, we can comb over that later,” and with that Idun took off into aerial position—him holding his pool noodle more like a sword than anything.

Much tempted as he was to actually have one of the staffers come out here, this was a friendly match, and still—

“En garde!” he cackled from his own perch as his own Pidgeot suddenly put the pedal to the proverbial ‘metal’, so to speak, ‘kicking’ up a burst of energy in order to shoot forward like a rocket—with him swinging the noodle from behind.

“Think fast!” he chirped a few moments later as his Pidgeot suddenly flipped upside down in mid-air and he attempted to come in fast for a clean strike on the top of little Josh’s head!

---

despite being a ‘friendly match’ we are rolling for first strike!

higher than the total: Jersh gets first point, lower it’s Birddad first strike!

Before anything else, the Corviknight and the Aerodactyl assumed the position—and it was time to roll.

Unsurprisingly, his Salamence came swooping down from…somewhere…and bellowed, ready to have a crack at this upcoming battle.

“Well, then, you’re getting him, and—” he trailed off, before a burst of red light coming from his pocket announced…

“Alright, already, Hera!” he exclaimed as the Gyarados appeared as well, and bellowed her challenge to the humid air.

“Challenger gets the first move!”

“It… is,” he hummed quietly, letting the other do what ministrations he had to get to—which at the moment was mostly his hair, for the record.

Never mind if he leaned forward somewhat (the better for Memo reach all the way at the back) before he quietly released a minute little sigh he didn’t realize he was holding.

What was up with that?

“Y—you know,” he continued as he let the running water slither quietly down his face. “While. While everyone was stranded there… in that travesty of Galar,” he went on, getting what he wanted to say out as fast as he could before his bravado deserted him.

He swallowed a sharp breath before he continued.

“…there was a time, where I thought to myself, ‘what if you weren’t here anymore when I returned’, what would…would I do by then, do… do you want to… to know?”

---

timelined right after the end of the rusted sword raid; dorime

“Not at the point where reality and the digital world crossed.”

That was what he would say first, before choosing his next words carefully.

“But at the crater, with the smoke. That mist. It brought up. More. More things that…”

He fell silent as he quickly raised a hand to one side of his head and pressed it hard, gritting his teeth as more of the ‘holes’ were revealing themselves in flashes.

He had to close his eyes as hard as possible to fight off the sudden explosion of pain that erupted from the back of his head.

“It brought up. More. More answers to… to what happened last year.”

Much as he wanted to retort back with ‘easy for you to say, you weren’t there’, he couldn’t.

He had no words left as he finally finished stripping down and ever so gingerly stepped into the bath tub—not wincing even if he knew the other had drawn a hot bath.

That was just how out of it he was as he slowly, painfully sank down into the water—normally he would be complaining and bitching a storm about the water, however the way his mind was ticking right now wasn’t exactly at full function therefore his descent into the tub was unnaturally quiet.

(Now if that wasn’t really a sign something was really wrong with him, then he didn’t know what else would be.)

He then stared at a certain point beyond the bath tub, the hot water hazing into a mist around him as the overwhelming feeling of tiredness caught up with him again.

“It… the water… the water’s nice,” he hummed quietly.

---

timelined right after the end of the rusted sword raid; dorime

“Just outside of Hammerlocke… things. Things are looking hopeful, but we can’t go too far from beyond the city limits. It’s… tough, considering that these wildflowers normally grow anywhere and everywhere there’s dirt and water,” he hummed quietly.

“Some of the others are trying to bring some color… some greenery back into the city limits, so they’ve been bringing back wildflowers to replant. It’s been awfully slow going, though.”

And then it was here at this point he was hit with his crippling indecision—one of his major problems whenever it came to doing something absolutely serious.

Go on and get with the program before your bravado deserts you! he yelled at himself from within the deepest recesses of his mind.

“Okay, so. Uhm. Remember what we talked about the last time we were here?” he finally managed to say a few moments later.

---

timeline: six years, seven months and eleven days to their arrival in Hammerlocke

(timeskip FC is Yuri Leclerc from FE3H)

The moment she mentioned that even Amor Rose had also ended up in an alternate reality, he stopped dead for a few moments.

“Wait. You said he was also in an alternate reality. But. But I don’t remember seeing him on our battlefield during the charge near Postwick,” he backtracked. Were there two separate instances?

Because to be fair, the one he was more familiar with was their ‘version’ of Hammerlocke, be that as it may.

“Did. Did he mention what city he was in?” he continued a few moments later.

Surely… surely there wasn’t like some kind of ‘alternate’ alternate universe within where they were whisked away to?! How was that even possible?!

---

who ordered even more emotional damage?! timelined after this as if he didn’t have enough already good grief

The moment the blue-plumed avian recognized their guest, he gave a ‘salute’ in welcome—never mind if it accidentally kicked up a small gust of wind in the process.

“Good news? Kyouya here remembers you,” he began with a wry smile as most of the Rufflet were literally converging around his feet, trying to get a bite of the treats he was holding in his hands. Why were they all being rowdy little shits today?

He would never know.

One of the other normal-colored Braviary gave all the five young Rufflets his best imitation of a ‘stink eye’, however the small ones paid absolutely no attention at all.

“Why not try feeding one of them? Watch what happens,” he offered as he held out his hand that was weighed down with the Pokémon treats that the younger birds were trying to peck out of his hands.

“For what better way is there to get to know a Pokémon than with food?”