Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoy. If you REALLY like it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.
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The next few days in Saffron passed in much the same manner as the second. After being introduced to the battle courts, I found it hard to stay away for too long, despite my determination to enjoy some time with the team outside of combat.
At the end of the day, fighting was most of our ideas of fun.
"Flamethrower, Houndoom, melt that sword!"
"Protect."
The green barrier flashed into existence as Honedge held up his sheath, letting the Denial-tinted flames wash over the shield. The air wavered from the heat, reality shivering as the Dark-Type energy ate at its solidity, and I could see a faint ripple run down Honedge's blade from the proximity.
But the Steel/Ghost-Type wasn't so easily dissuaded.
"Shadow Sneak, Metal Claw!"
The last black-hued embers still danced in the air when the Protect lowered, motes of emerald green joining them as the dark spot below the floating sword widened and he sank into it.
"Where did it go!?" Patrick shouted, pimpled forehead creased in confusion as he reached up to pull his hat low against the light of the Flamethrower. His green eyes widened as the last tongues flickered out, and he saw the pitch-black spot dart up in the undulating shadows cast by the fire. "Houndoom, get back! Dark Pulse!"
"Shadow Ball!" I lowered my voice. Honedge didn't have ears, and whatever Distorted bond it used to hear my commands didn't care about volume as much as it seemed to do about distance. "Then Shadow Sneak again. Let it come to you."
Pulsating darkness gathered in Houndoom's slavering jaws, a blackness that hurt to look at, forced into a sphere. I felt a twitch within my shirt, one of Zorua's blue eyes peering out of the pocket of the hoodie I'd bought for him to hide in. As the Dark/Fire-Type readied itself, Honedge dipped up from his Shadow Sneak – some of the Ghost-Type energy he'd used to 'swim' beneath reality clinging to his blade. The Distortion swirled and condensed as if pulled by a singularity, dragged together by gravity into a wispy orb.
I felt Espeon tighten around my neck from all the unnatural energy in the air and scratched her under the chin.
Then they fired.
Honedge's Shadow Ball lurched forward, piercing through the air without a sound or sign that it was even there. Bands of Ghost-Type energy ripped from it as it spun, Honedge far from mastery of the technique.
Conversely, a shockwave pushed Houndoom backwards a couple of inches, a visible blast of wind rippling across the arena as the Dark Pulse howled and screamed its way through existence itself. The ball was a little wobbly, but it held together as the two spheres of energy, non-native to that reality, approached each other.
When they collided, it was no contest. The Shadow Ball may have been able to ignore things like momentum, air resistance, and more, a small fraction of the Distorted World manifested in the material world.
But the Dark Pulse was Denial itself. Whether the material world or the realm of Giratina, it barely mattered when it was unwilling to play by any rules at all. The Dark Pulse tore through the Shadow Ball like paper, dispersing the Distortion into a cloud of mildly harmful smoke.
And through that smoke, gleaming ivory coated in black emerged, snarling maw and victorious red eyes, turning to confusion when it failed to find its prey.
As the Houndoom leapt, I saw it. Saw the way Honedge could slip back into the shadows and let the canine pass overhead. How he could emerge tip first, and let Houndoom's own momentum split it open from collar to groin, spilling its blood and entrails across my Ghost.
And then I saw Patrick's eager face at his apparent victory and remembered where I was. Saw how Honedge seemed to pick the plan from my head and start executing it.
"Don't!"
Honedge stuttered, his very tip biting into the inside of Houndoom's thigh, a drop of dark blood rolling down his blade.
"He missed! Bite, Houndoom!"
The near-kill went unnoticed by Patrick and the audience, the angle making it look as though Honedge had merely misjudged and attacked too late. Ironically, that oversight allowed the Trainer to act much faster than he otherwise would have.
Faster than Honedge could retreat, the sharp teeth clamped down around the upper part of his blade and ripped him from the half-dimension Shadow Sneak gave him access to. Shaking its head like Honedge was a bone, the Houndoom growled and clenched down. There was a whine of metal giving as the Distortion-coated fangs sank into the sword, slight cracks forming around the indentations. Honedge bashed the side of its head with his sheath, but it was not meant for attacking and did little more than annoy the dog.
For all that Honedge was incredibly dangerous in close range, it seemed we had found a weakness.
"YES! Fire Fang, Houndoom, finish it off!"
The glow in the back of Houndoom's throat had barely become visible before I held up a finger to the ref – letting him know beforehand – and recalled my Pokémon.
"Yeeeeah, way to go, Houndoom! That's one down, two more to go!" Patrick cheered, the crowd echoing him, eager to see me seemingly on the back foot after quite the win streak.
Their hopes were shattered and broken, much like Houndoom's bone armor under Sol's Brick Break-enhanced paws. The Arcanine was insultingly cheerful as he bullied the other dog, who was less than half his size. Dark flames clung to his pelt, the Dark-Type energy resisting Sol's usual absorbing through Flash Fire, but it mattered little.
In short order, the Houndoom was lying unconscious on the ground, Sol's nosing it to play more.
The following Ariados and Butterfree were a lot less impressive than the Houndoom had been, and I ended up having Siren finish off the part Flying-Type. Patrick seemed to be training a team specifically for Sabrina, with Dark and Bug-Types, but his Houndoom was definitely carrying the rest on its back.
I didn't even say that to Patrick himself, but the guy still stormed off in a huff.
Whatever.
"ALRIGHT, WHO WANNA GET THEIR ASS KICKED BY A FEEBAS, HUH!? LINE UP!" I yelled and made rude gestures to try to rile up the crowd.
It ended up working a little too well, an old man and his Rhydon taking on both Siren and Honedge before going down to Betty. The enormous Shelgon almost brought it back around, looking on dourly as a Machoke tried to embrace her wide body. Muscles bulged, veins popping across its whole body as the Fighting-Type dug its feet into the ground and heaved, leaning back to try and find the leverage to lift the Dragon-Type.
Betty gave it a second before helping it by leaning sideways, staring grumpily into the distance as the humanoid Pokémon struggled desperately to get the Shelgon off of it. I ended up having to recall her and re-release her to get her off, and I wasn't sure if it was because she wouldn't, or because she couldn't.
The match ended being canceled when the glaring man pulled out a Steelix, and the two Pokémon nearly brought down the whole court, but it was good fun nonetheless.
That wasn't to say that we did nothing other than fighting, though.
"ARE THE CONTESTANTS READY!?" Nobody answered, hunching down further over their Pokémon. Toes flexed and curled, hooves scraping at the dirt. People around me threw glances at me, envious, worried, and competitive. I gave them nothing, eyes locked on the flag in the woman's hand, fingers tightening in Sol's scruff.
"THREE!"
Tension flared.
"TWO!"
Muscles tightened.
"ONE!"
Breaths caught.
Focus narrowed.
Time slowed.
"GOOOOO!"
Sol lurched forwards under me, the 59 Pokémon surrounding us doing the same as the flag fell and the race started. Immediately, we were ahead, Sol's size and strength giving him the greatest push off. His tongue lolled from his mouth in joy, drops of saliva sprinkling the others coming up behind us.
But then came the first obstacle.
Turning.
"Left, left, left, left!" I tugged back on Sol's fur, making him bleed off speed to round the large cliff face in our way. He almost lay down, my pants brushing the dirt while his huge paws clawed for traction. A brown shape inched up beside us, a Dodrio blazing with Quick Attack. The nearest of its three round heads snapped the long, thin beak at us. Sol snapped back, but doing so took his whole brain, whereas Dodrio's was one of three, and he stumbled, allowing the bird to push ahead.
I growled, digging my heels into Sol's side like he was a horse. "Come on, boy, we're not losing to this asshole! Extreme Speed-OH SHIT!"
The scenery twisted like we'd entered hyperdrive, colors and shapes smearing together as I was nearly torn off the Arcanine. It only lasted for a couple of seconds before we had to turn again, but it was enough. The early-twenties man on the back of the Normal-Type looked over his shoulder with a smarmy expression. Seeing us right behind him, approaching at Mach speeds, he paled and reflexively twitched as he tried to urge his Pokémon on.
Unfortunately, he didn't look before doing so, and Dodrio's leg hit a rock, sending them flying.
"HA!" I crowed as we weaved around them, retaking the lead. Yet, looking over my shoulder, it seemed that the whole thing had slowed us down enough for the rest of the pack to catch up.
A man on a sleek, muscle-bound Tauros drew up on our right flank. I paid him no mind as the track narrowed, deep trenches forming on either side.
At least, I paid him no mind until he pressed against us, trying to push us off the road.
I growled, leaning back against him as we filled the left side, Sol's paws touching the strip of grass before the drop off. With a shove, the Tauros rider had to back off to correct himself, and we got back to the middle of the path, but that didn't stop the guy from ramming against us again, harder that time. His Tauros was smaller and lighter than Sol's, but it was also lower to the ground, and all it would take was hitting the legs right for us to go down.
Okay, then. If that's how he wanted it.
Pulling out a little wider, the guy went for another slam. He looked up, eyes almost popping out of his skull when he saw me having lifted my body with my free hand, swung my knees over to his side, and extended my legs.
Hard.
SLAM!
His face caved in, his head moving sideways without the rest of his body, neck straining against the force.
And then he shot off his Pokémon, hitting the ground and rolling around in the dirt as we kept going. His Tauros went mad, trying to gore Sol, but the Arcanine was too fast for the bull. Instead, it turned around to rush back and defend its Trainer, who moaned weakly after his tumble. More racers came up the way, trying to slow down and maneuver around the rampaging Normal-Type.
Tauros wasn't having it. Steam billowed from its nose, eyes blood red as it sent riders and Pokémon alike flying, refusing to let anything it saw as a danger close to its Trainer.
And Tauros lost their minds if they saw their own reflection, never mind another Pokémon.
"Hehehehe-!" The chuckle died in my throat as first an orange and tan blur leapt over the Tauros, then a green one, and then more and more took the path of least resistance and jumped.
And were closing in fast.
"EXTREME SPEED!" My legs and ass lifted off Sol's back as he crouched for a second before exploding forwards. Our surroundings blurred, tears leaking from my squinted eyes while I hung like a cape from Sol's neck in a Superman pose. It was impossible to see how far we went, but after what felt like a split second, something fuzzy emerged in front of us, something grey hanging low over the ground. Only, as soon as I'd thought that, it was close enough that I could see that it was neither one thing, nor low to the ground.
Rock spires, reminding me of Bruno's Stone Edge nonsense, rose like a stone forest before us, the markings on either side making it clear that we couldn't go around.
"SSTAWWWWWPP!" The wind in my cheeks distorted my words, but even with that, there was no way he understood it as 'speed up'.
Which was what he did.
CRAS-CR-CRASH-CRAH!
"YOU IDIOT!" I clamped my thighs around him, clinging to his back as tightly as I could as we smashed through the tree-trunk-thick stone pillars. There was enough space for even a Pokémon of Sol's size to slalom between the poles, yet he made no attempt at doing so. In his defense, regular turning at Extreme Speed velocities was a gamble, so there was no way we'd have made it through otherwise in any respectable amount of time.
On the other hand, the impacts and stumbles over debris as it came crashing down around us slowed us more than a little. I had faith that Sol was the fastest there in a straight line, but that wasn't quite enough.
"THAT'S BULLSHIT!" I roared, watching a green blur pass us, a kid squealing from the shoulders of his Scyther. The Bug's wings whipped up a sandstorm behind them as it effortlessly wove between the spires, using the trail of destruction left in our wake before overtaking. In the distance, I could make out a cheering crowd waiting by a line of white cloth stretched across the race track. "HOW'S THAT NOT A FLYING-TYPE!? CHEATER! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"
Nobody ever had to know about my five-year ban from Saffron's Serious Super Speed Race – also known as the 4SR – for 'unsportsman-like behavior', 'making threats towards the judges', and 'almost killing someone'.
Bastards, the whole lot of them. How was I supposed to know that the kid was such a crybaby? I didn't care if he was 9. If you can't handle the heat, get out of the kitchen.
I even felt bad and apologized to the kid. Eventually.
Of course, it wasn't all great. I was still far from out of the woods regarding people in my life.
"Seriously, dude-"
"-what-"
"-the-"
-fuck!?"
I didn't bother saying anything, knowing that the tirade had barely started.
And I was right.
"Like, for real-" Daisy began, the oldest Senseational Sister taking up the majority of the screen as she glared at me.
"-we fucking set you up-" Violet continued, hanging over her older sister's shoulder to join the scowling.
"-all but handed you the keys to the runt's heart-"
"That's not how I-" I held up my hands in surrender when they pointed at me.
"-WERE INCREDIBLY GRACEOUS-"
"-and, somehow, you still mess it up! How!?"
The worst part, however, worse than the yelling or the insults, was Lily. The youngest Waterflower sister was barely in frame, letting the other, more extroverted women take the lead. But the way she wouldn't meet my eyes and the genuine disappointment in her face hurt more than being told I suck a thousand times over.
Focusing back on the conversation, I realized that it hadn't been a rhetorical question.
"I'm working on it," I assured them. "She's mostly taking my calls within five minutes now, so that's progress. I know it's gonna take some time, though."
"You're damn right it's going to take some time!" Violet shook her fist at me through the screen. "And groveling!"
"And presents!" Daisy added. "Like, jewelry-"
"-or a Pokémon."
"Uuuuh, yeah, a rare Water-Type!"
"You think that would work?" I rubbed my chin. "I mean, I got money now, so I'm sure I can get her something rad, like a Lapras, or something." It wasn't really something I'd thought about a lot, but it was true. With the paycheck Bill was sending me, I could afford to buy some pretty rare and powerful Pokémon if I wanted to.
It wasn't how I wanted to build my own team, at least not for a while yet, but maybe there was something Misty wanted? Or a Rock-Type for Brock?
"Right, you got that Masaki money now!" Daisy's eyes shone at the thought of all the zeros. "We've got a deal for Lapras, so she'll get one of those eventually, but something from, like, Sinnoh, or that tropical place people have been talking about, behind Hoenn-"
"Don't actually get her a Pokémon, Peri." Lily finally broke her silence, looking straight into the camera with a neutral face. "If you actually want to make it up to her, someone else's money isn't going to do it."
"I'm sure she'd feel better with, like, a Mudkip, or somethi-Okay, okay." Daisy held up her hands in surrender at Lily's glare before changing the subject. "Also, what the hell did you tell Uncle!? He keeps trying to gather the Clan and talks about killing the Elite Four, or something!?"
I stared at them. "...no idea, sounds rough. On a completely unrelated note, could you tell him I'm fine?"
By some miracle, I managed to distract them for the rest of the conversation with tales of Bruno, though I could do without the blatant lust for the martial artist.
Stupid Bruno and his stupid, adult muscles. I was going to look like a Tauros by the time I was his age. Like, 90 or whatever.
While I was at it, I also finally answered the unknown number that had been hounding me.
I shouldn't have bothered.
The woman on the screen was beautiful, in a severe way. Messy, light-blue bangs of hair fell around her face like a mane, the rest gathered in a high ponytail. Her features were striking: high cheekbones and a pointed chin, her face long and narrow, highlighting the slight elongation of the pupils in her ocean-blue eyes. Despite having just talked with some of the most famously attractive women in Kanto, the new one could stand next to the Sisters without losing out.
Unfortunately, I also instantly recognized her and lost all interest in the conversation.
"Greetings, Mr. Periwinkle. I am Clair Blackthorn, and I am calling-"
"Not for sale." I interrupted and hung up.
That hadn't stopped the Dragon Trainer from calling. Even when I blocked her number, a new one would simply start spamming me. I imagined that if I heard her out and then politely told her to go away, there was a bigger chance she would actually do so. Still, there had to be limits to my newfound attempts at zen, and they were definitely somewhere before talking to Lance's cousin and the Gym Leader of asshole city.
However, the real excitement happened on the seventh day, when the stuff I'd asked Bill to get for me finally arrived. I'd been getting increasingly impatient, wondering how it could take so long for a man with Bill's connections.
Though I understood once I opened it and looked inside.
"What the fuck is this?"
I held up the jacket that had been lying on top when I opened the box. The material itself was black and felt expensive between my fingers. That wasn't the problem. Neither was the size nor the cut. It was actually a little disturbing how well it fit me.
No, the issue was the giant logo on both the back and the front, massive white letters spelling out the same message.
'Masaki Co.'
"There's no way I'm wearing this." I held the jacket by the shoulders, as if it was disgusting to the touch in addition to the eyes. I grimaced, looking over the smaller logos on the shoulders and under Bill's. Various companies, some I'd never heard of and others universal, like a decent-sized Silph. Co. one. It looked like Bill had sold advertisements to absolutely anyone who wanted them. "He can't force me to wear this, right?"
Espeon's eyes followed the dangling sleeve for a moment, eyeing it with interest before going back to grooming herself.
"Yeah, I did sign a contract." I sighed, acting like she was the one who answered. We were in one of Saffron's private training rooms, having retreated there after I got my package from the mailbox at the PokéMart. Like everything else in Saffron, premium training areas were available for the right price. Large, empty rooms that you could mess up as much as you wanted, with actual equipment and guaranteed privacy. There were still wide plains and fields open to anyone who wanted them, but it was definitely an upgrade. "Surely Bill will understand, though. It doesn't even have my name on it!" I dropped the jacket and sighed, sitting down, shifting the pocket with Zorua to the side so Espeon could lean against me.
"Speaking of names," I lead, watching the others train. Hercules was showing Siren how to channel her electricity better, something I could tell pleased him. The idea that he had enough of a grasp over the energy to be a teacher was a testament to how far he'd gotten since barely being able to use a Thundershock. Sol and Betty were play-fighting, the canine trying to get around the Shelgon fast enough to touch her rear while Betty tried to catch him. It helped both of them with their various mobility issues. A sharp series of cracks! rang out as Vulpix swung her tails, a group of Ice Shards flying out and being parried by Honedge's scabbard. The ghost hadn't been happy with his loss to Houndoom. "Back when we first met, I asked if you wanted one, and you said no. That was fine then, and it's fine now. But, things have changed a little, so I figured…"
Espeon looked up at me for a long moment. I thought I'd have been nervous, waiting there under scrutiny, the silence stretching out.
But, for once, I wasn't. It was a big deal to take on a name. It wasn't permanent, but it wasn't the easiest thing to change, either. Not because you couldn't, but getting the Trainer to understand that they'd changed their mind or outgrown it could take time.
So I was fine waiting for her. And, eventually, that patience paid off when she nodded slightly.
"Alright," I nodded, still feeling a sense of relief and giddiness despite my thoughts, "let's see then…"
There was just one problem.
"Uuuuuh," I mumbled, cheek in hand, a good 10 minutes and two dozen suggestions later. "I've mostly done mythology so far. Psychics are smart, right, so a smart god. Uuuuh," my eyes landed on Hercules. "Athena, maybe?"
She wrinkled her nose.
"Man, you're a picky one." I held up my hands in surrender when she glared at me. "Which is fine! Not a problem. We might just have to workshop it for a while."
A movement and sniff from my pocket had me reaching in and scoping up the culprit by the neck. Zorua struggled as she was pulled from her hole, whining up at me with wide eyes.
"And what about you, now that I think about it. Do you want a name? Hell," I looked over to Vulpix and Honedge, getting their attention. "I never asked either of you if you wanted one either, did I?"
Vulpix's eyes went wide and wet, her whole body shivering at the idea, and she immediately came running at full force, jumping towards me. She was caught in a much more stable Confusion than Espeon had been capable of before getting to Saffron, and wiggled in the air to make me take her.
"Yeah, I figured you'd want one!" I chuckled at her cold tongue licking my face, turning to prevent it from going up my nose. I felt the guilt and self-loathing creep up again, but forced it down.
Forwards, not backwards.
"You're an easy one, as well," I told the Vulpix. "Ice and Fairy instantly reminded me of something. Up where it's cold, there's this thing called the aurora borealis. It's this mystical light in the sky, giant waves of green and purple, billowing as far as the eyes can see." Vulpix's own eyes were glazed over, like she was seeing it before her. "I heard it was one of the most beautiful things in the world, though I never got the chance to see it myself. So how about, eh? Aurora?"
I'd take the resumption of her tongue-first attack on my face as agreement.
"And wh-argh, stop!-what about you!?" I tried to ask Honedge around Vulp-Aurora's frantic affection. I glanced at Espeon for help, who rolled her eyes in return, but yanked Aurora over towards herself and began grooming her.
I turned to look at Honedge.
Honedge stared back.
"So, eh." I cleared my throat at the sudden awkwardness. It wasn't until I tried to talk to Honedge that I realized how much I'd come to rely on my Pokémons facial expressions, even if they could be hard to decipher. With the ghost, all I had was a single eye. "Do you want a name?"
Honedge floated.
"Is that a yes?"
Honedge stared.
"No?"
Honedge blinked, neither confirming nor denying.
"We'll work on it," I assured the Ghost-Type, who proceeded to stare and then float away, back to his training. "You just let me know if you change or make up your mind, then."
Honedge trained.
"Right," I turned back to my hand, seemingly holding nothing as I held it mid-air. "I can still feel you." Zorua faded into reality with a grumpy look on her face, evidently displeased that her ruse had failed. "Okay, so. If you want a name right now, we can try to find one, but – and I mean this with all the love in the world – you're still a little jumpy. So, it might be better to wait until you've settled in a little more. What do you think?"
Setting the fox down on the ground, she wasted no time diving back towards the large pocket across the stomach of the hoodie. Holding the end open for her, I patted her nuzzling shape through the fabric and took that as her answer.
"Cool. Then we just need you, don't we?" I told Espeon, who very maturely ignored me, grabbed Aurora by the scruff with her teeth, and wandered off, split tail slapping me lightly in the face.
That done, I looked through the rest of the stuff in Bill's care package. The newest version of the PokéNav, like the one Misty had. It was even blue like hers.
Well, mine was the hue of blue known as periwinkle, because Bill wasn't very funny.
Beyond that, there was the semi-magic PokéBlock mixer, which was definitely a must-have for my team.
And of course, the main reason I had him send it over in the first place. I'd looked through the stores in Saffron on the first day, but hadn't seen one, and the last time I'd done so in Cerulean, it was both too early and too expensive.
Not so now.
"Siren? Can you come over here for a second?" The Feebas looked over from her training, stray sparks leaping from her form. Despite Hercules' pride over being a teacher, I could tell that it also bothered him a bit that a Water-Type was already nearly as good as his Elekid self had been.
Still, the fish quickly left the Electabuzz behind, scooting over the ground with ease. She did it so naturally in those days that I often forgot to think about it, but her levitation was effortlessly smooth when she was just maneuvering.
She'd come so far.
"I can hardly believe it." I chuckled weakly, sitting down to let her rest in my lap. "It feels like it's been so long and yet no time at all since we met." Siren gurgled up at me in agreement. "A lot of dumb shit in between. Most of it my fault. Don't," I stopped her as she went to protest, "I'm not going there; I'm just saying." You, more than anyone, have pulled my arrogant, stupid ass out of the fire again and again. Without, I would be dead a dozen times over." She wheezed in protest at my words, making me smile in response.
"You've earned this. More than anyone," With trembling fingers, I lifted my hand. The scale I held was as large as my thumb and shaped like a guitar pick, wide in one end and narrow in the other. Pink, vibrant and loud, screamed from the pointy end, fading and changing the further up it went until it was a light blue hue, each color in between distinct and beautiful to behold. Looking into Siren's eyes, I took a deep breath and gently pressed it against her forehead, ready to let go as soon as it started.
And waited.
And waited.
Nothing happened.
I forced a smile on my face as Siren looked up at me, confused by my weird behavior. "I-I was just, uh," I gathered myself. I couldn't let her know. "...I want to make you something. Like, jewelry, you know."
She looked at me again, eyes softening. She gurgled and indicated with her head for me to lean down, which I did, allowing her to press wet lips against my cheek before she went back to Hercules.
I felt like fucking crying.
The Prism Scale didn't work. In the games, if a Feebas had it as a Held Item and then was traded, it evolved into Milotic. I didn't trade Siren with the Scale, but I didn't need to.
Trade evolution wasn't a thing at all, as far as I could tell. I'd asked Brock about evolving his Onix, and he'd gone on a long rant about needing a certain amount of buildup of metals in Onix's body. In nature, evolution occurred when an Onix grew so old that it dug deep into the earth, down where the heat was greater, and had eaten enough ore that it essentially melted. In the modern day, a thick layer of a special alloy called a Metal Coat could do the same.
Point being, it wasn't by trade. Trade didn't involve energy beams shooting through space. It was as simple as having a sponsor or League official open the database and change the registered PokéBall to a different Trainer.
But that meant that the easiest, and potentially only feasible, way of evolving Siren was gone.
Which left getting her 'Beauty' stat maxed out and then leveling her up.
How the fuck was I supposed to do that!?
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Uhoh. If the Scale doesn't work, then Siren has one hell of a road before her before she can evolve. This was always the plan, by the way, it's why I made the Feebas-Milotic evolution unknown in-universe. Trade evolutions in general don't work like that in this story.
Also, if you have suggestions for Pokémon names (specifically Espeon and Zorua), feel free to throw them out.
Exams went well, so hopefully I'll have more time to write over the next few weeks. The next chapter should be the Dojo.
Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoyed. If you REALLY liked it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.