After the luscious greens of Coumarine City, we had to cut through the badlands to get back to Lumiose. For once, Courtney was all for being carried by me since the desert-like area was dry, dusty, and hot.

 

Almost like a desert. Who knew?

 

I did kind of want to stay to check out the powerplant and…acquire some charge for the crystals. There are also a few notable pokémon that can be found here like Gible, but Courtney’s comfort goes above all else, and I’ll be making trips back in the future anyway.

 

The only…discomfort I received during the trip is knocking on my mom’s apartment door near sundown, asking if we could stay awhile. Deep down, I knew she would say yes, but there was a part that was concerned that she might say no to the mysterious girl with her daughter.

 

Thankfully, my worries were for nothing, and we stayed the night.

 

———————————————————————————————————————

 

As Courtney and I sit at the admittedly small dining table, waiting for mom to finish making breakfast, I try to ignore Courtney’s fidgeting and looking around. Though I try, I fail. “Courtney, you look like you need to use the bathroom. What is it?”

 

Composing herself, she responds, “I…notice that your dad isn’t joining us for breakfast.”

 

Right. Good ol’ dad. I purse my lips as I contemplate how to answer this…line of eventual inquiry. “My dad…isn’t around. He left a lot of stuff behind…including this trench coat I’m wearing.”

 

“Oh…” Courtney says…and that’s how the conversation dies.

 

Soon enough, my mom walks in with several plates of pancakes. “Dear, stop being cryptic.” She turns to Courtney. “My husband isn’t dead. He works overseas and isn’t home too often.”

 

I pick up the next part. “We don’t really talk about him, so people generally think he’s dead.”

 

“Oh.”

 

———————————————————————————————————————

 

Courtney left, saying she had to go meet with some associates of hers, and I was ready to head over to see Sycamore when my mom pulled me back.

 

She guided me to the living room and sat me down before sitting herself across from me. She crossed her fingers, repeatedly shuffling her fingers as she stared at some flowers on the coffee table with a pensive look. “Nicole, I think we need to talk about the Donphan in the room—specifically, your hand. I want to know exactly what happened, and don’t leave out any details! I’ll know if you do.”

 

I bit my lip for a second, deciding to tell her the full relevant story. The whole thing with Clemont: how he got tricked by Team Rocket, the absolute failure of his inventions, the inevitable explosion, the fusion of the Octillery Arms to my spine, and my…infertility.

 

Frankly, it’s a short story in hindsight, but its impact still lingers.

 

After I finished, including a part about a future project to recreate a new left hand, mom just sat there. She stared, once again, at the flowers on the table. Finally, slowly, she looked up, and started walking over to me.

 

Sitting down, she wraps me in a tight hug, burying her face in my shoulder. Awkwardly, I return the hug, and she squeezes me tightly. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry…” She keeps repeating that in my ear, and, honestly, at this point, I’ve become so emotionally fried, all I can do is keep hugging her.

 

Eventually, after about…three-ish minutes, we separate, but she still holds me shoulders as she steels herself in my eyes. Noticing my lack of…any response, she says, “You’re stronger than me, Nicole. I’ve been worried since the first day about your journey, but I’m just so glad to see you. Everything will be fine, okay? I’ll talk with Meyer about his son, and then I’ll talk to the police about this Team Rocket.”

 

I smile at her, not having the heart to tell her that the police most likely won’t be able to do anything. If Team Rocket has been terrorizing Ash for this long, then they likely won’t be able to do anything. Though…an organization of that size must need funding from somewhere. If I can…access bank records, I might be able to trace the money trial. Though, it’s just a hypothesis.

 

———————————————————————————————————————

 

After finishing the rest of that delightful talk with my mom, I went to the Pokémon Lab to see Sycamore. Luckily for me, he was already in the foyer, talking with one of the research assistants. Hmm, she looks new. Probably a graduate student from college or something.

 

I don’t really care, but it’s rude to interrupt someone when they’re talking, so I patiently wait.

 

The assistant leaves, and Sycamore turns to me with a wide smile on his face and arms stretched out. “Nicole! It’s been so long!” He greets me enthusiastically, but I can see his eyes keep drifting towards my left arm.

 

“Hey, Professor,” I casually reply, lifting just my hand for a moment. “How have you been?”

 

His smile somehow grows larger. “Great, in fact! And, if I can confirm your potential finding, fantastic! I’ve already have some people that would be interested in talking to you if I can confirm that you truly do have an Alpha Ralts.” He beckons me down a hall towards the medical ward.

 

I arch a brow. “Already? Who?”

 

His back stiffens as we walk for a second, but eventually relaxes. “I’m not at liberty to say. They wanted to introduce themselves. I can say that one is an associate interested in helping preserve pokémon, and the other is more interested in the historical find of an Alpha.”

 

A few names flash through my mind at the implication. Certainly, there are some big wigs, but they’re so out of my social circle it’s not even funny. It’s most likely other professors from other regions.

 

———————————————————————————————————————

 

Ralts kicks her leg on the medical exam table while she sucks on the lollipop that Sycamore gave her. Meanwhile, the Professor and I are looking closely at the medical file he compiled. About 85% of it is absolute jargon to me, though I could learn it with enough time, but I do understand the notes that Sycamore personally wrote in.

 

“What do you mean abnormally large? She’s an Alpha; she’s going to be large.”

 

He continues staring at the paper, chewing on the end of his pen. “Although I’m ecstatic to find a real Alpha Pokémon, and remind me to give you those phone numbers, there’s a few things here that are still strange. Yes, the Alpha Ralts should be about three feet tall, but that’s after they reach full maturity. Three feet at birth is…not normal. Within the coming weeks, she could grow to maybe four to five feet tall. She could be taller than you as a Kirlia.” He jabs the not-chewed end of the pen at me in jest.

 

He continues, “Her psychic power levels are off the charts as well.” I mentally make a note for myself to make a copy of that machine for later. “…Have you already started training her?”

 

I tilt my head in a maybe-pattern. “Not in battle. She’s just been picking stuff up for fun.”

 

Now he arches a brow. “Telekinesis that soon? Amazing…” He puts the file down and turns back to me with a smile. “Well, no matter the case, you do, indeed, have an Alpha Pokémon, Nicole! If you wish to publish this, you have the lab’s support in doing so.”

 

I purse my lips. “I’ll think about it.” As I get ready to leave, recalling Gwen, and Sycamore starts putting away the equipment, I turn back to him. “Oh yeah! Those contacts?”

 

He pauses, digging into his lab coat pocket until he pulls out a scrunched-up piece of notebook paper which he hands to me. “By the way, just send them a text. Don’t call. They’re both in radically different time zones.”

 

I nod, heading out the door.

 

Next stop, Prism Tower!