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 There was a small mercy in how easy it was to sneak around the long way from the clan grounds to the back entrance to the gym, the smaller population compared to Mahogany, the lack of surveillance on this specific course. That meant, of course, that fate had to balance the scales in turn.
 
 It was a bit of whiplash watching the Blackthorn gym leader’s expression drop from amicable to outright murderous. It seemed that news travelled fast from the lakeside.
 
 “You’ve got to be kidding me. Absolutely not.”
 
 Lance leveled his look at the younger man in front of him, voice low and patient. “Draco, I don’t ask much of you.”
 
 “You don’t, but that doesn’t matter when the one time you ask is for [i]treason[/i],” the gym leader hissed. “The fact that you’re stooped low enough to go behind both your family and your country is one thing, but asking me to follow your lead with it is just - what the hell, Lance? What happened to you?”
 
 “You’d be let off,” the redhead explained, not for the first time. “This is all you have to do, just the match, nothing more, you can get away under the pretense -”
 
 “And that’s just it! Even beyond me, you’re setting yourself on fire for something that you’re not even sure is going to [i]stick[/i],” he shot back, frustration bubbling forth near manic, near pleading as he took a step closer. “May not even be [i]used[/i].”
 
 Lance waved back at Catherine, and she bit back the urge to blanch as she got dragged to the forefront of this mess. “Which is why she’s going to be there, utilizing it day one.”
 
 “And very likely to get hurt, given how battles tend to go. Putting blood on all our hands.”
 
 “Something we all risk, gender aside.” A knowing look. “And she’s not the only one who wants this, trust me. This is still in favor of the clan.”
 
 That seemed to strike a nerve as Draco faltered, as he glanced aside, as he scraped himself back up. “...It’d be selfish of someone to go so blatantly against tradition for a personal want like that. There’s a reason we follow them in the first place.”
 
 “The values of the clan aren’t meant to swallow you whole either, though,” Lance countered. “We can’t move forward if all we do is retread the same ground, ignoring each individual for the sake of a pretense. You [i]know[/i] this.” He set his hands on the other man’s shoulders. “You know I have nothing but the utmost faith in you. All I’m asking is for you to have faith in me for this.”
 
 The gym leader wavered for longer this time, the slow breath he took, the furious challenge in his eyes. “If we bowed to our feelings instead of what’s objectively right or wrong, we never would’ve made it this far. I won’t let you put me between a rock and a hard place.”
 
 An understanding, if crestfallen look ghosted across Lance’s face before he straightened, and Catherine watched as the man cast himself aside for his position. “Forgive me, I don’t have the time right now to argue. If you’re that concerned about the shallow value of our traditions and not the context behind them, then you’d remember that loyalty to your elders is the baseline of our traditions. Do you not trust me, your elder, your future clan head, to move in our clan’s best interests? Do you not think I also have full faith to my own superiors?”
 
 “I, Lance -”
 
 “Because I’m the one who gets to determine what those best interests are,” the elite went on. “Me. Not you.”
 
 The gym leader’s look darkened in anger. (In fear, just for a beat, the mask adjusted in correction soon enough.) “For now.”
 
 Lance’s voice grew softer. “Something already accounted for. Trust me, Draco.”
 
 The air, already thick with anticipation, nosedived even harder as time stretched infinite. Catherine watched as the two exchanged looks and unspoken words, as she became all the more aware of just how much she was missing from this entire situation.
 
 “Fine,” Draco spat suddenly, ran a frustrated hand through aqua hair before he retreated to his desk. “Fine, Lance. Whatever. You want it, you get it, consequences be damned. See if I care.”
 
-“Thank you, Draco.”
+“I understand.”
 
 The gym leader’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t reply - set the match registration form with surprising gentleness on top of his desk, regarded Catherine with such a bone crawling malice that she felt oddly validated. “You’re the one my cousin is putting all his stakes on? Here’s hoping your skill is better than your disguise.”
 
 And with that, it didn’t take long for challenger and leader to take to the field, for Victor to stand against a black bat-looking dragon, for a referee to announce a start for the eighth time in Loki’s career. (For what might’ve been the last time, if the glower from Draco was any sort of indication, gods -)
 
 Pretending the nerves rushing in her ears was simply the chatter of the bleachers, the waves from the moat around the arena, Catherine took in a shaky breath and counted to ten, the taste of salt heavy in her mouth.
 
 Exhaled.
 
 Signaled the start of her campaign with a curt wave and a surety to her words. “Power Gem!”
 
 Draco fired back with a “Boomburst!”
 
 The inner circles of Noivern’s glowed a faint blue as it took to the air, as it channeled a burst of wind and cacophonic screeching into a beam that hurtled straight at Victor, that made the gym leader’s cloak sail and Catherine clutch the brim of her hat. The first few gems missed as the dragon swooped away, but Victor raced after it with deadly accuracy, only had to relent to change a direct hit from the Boomburst to a graze instead.
 
 Both a little dinged up, could’ve been better, could’ve been worse. “Keep it up, Victor! Spread ‘em and run!”
 
 “Again!”
 
 Victor waited for the second Boomburst before he dashed forward, gem glowing as another round of copies summoned themselves from thin air and pitched forward, hit the Noivern one two three from one wing span to the other, as it crumpled and dropped, the noise from its attack replaced from the roar from the crowd.
 
 And then came the real fight as leader and trainer regarded each other, as Draco withdrew the Noivern and let out a goofy looking green and white dragon, and waited for her call.
 
 Only a fool would think that you could treat an eighth match like any other, had even the remote chance that you could could power through it blindly and at face value.
 
 No, the only way you made it alive out of an eighth match was pressing every advantage you had, the importance of the gym leader sending out their Pokemon first during each interval more pivotal than ever, because she knew he expected Natsumi now that his feeler was gone, that the Drampa still had a counter ready for Victor in case she kept him still out, and a ground-type move meant she couldn’t send out Chiffon either, knew that she wasn’t saving Natsumi for the ace, that he knew she knew he knew -
 
 Catherine flicked up Circe’s ball with a flick of the wrist and called for a Sludge Bomb, gave no window for the Drampa to dodge as she capitalized on his choice for coverage over speed, knew her own cost was the risk of Circe getting hurt before she necessarily needed it.
 
 Draco responded in kind. “Dragon Pulse!”
 
 Purple sludge swallowed up the floor as the purple fire claimed the sky, as Circe dropped to the ground and rode the wave like a surfer up to the dragon. It faltered but didn’t relinquish victory just yet, and Catherine called for another wave as the flames above lingered for longer than expected, as the Gengar vanished into the floor while the second wave rolled.
 
 The Drampa just set the floor on fire that time instead, unfortunately, and Circe had to get out of the ground eventually. Flames singed her ghostly pelt as she bore down on the dragon again, as she shoved face first through the start of that third wave - literally slammed the dragon’s snout shut in time for the third and final wave to swallow them both. Smoke curled up like hands grasping for the sunlight as Circe stood there, not quite panting yet but huffing all the same as the flames snuffed themselves out. Could’ve been in worse straits, at least, but. Well.
 
 [i]Then[/i] came the Druddigon, and with it her first beat of trepidation. Could she risk Natsumi against it, or...? Now was as good of a time to use her as any to bust the Lapras out, true. But she could be smarter than that.
 
 Stella announced her arrival with a volley of stars that chased after the Druddigon and hammered uselessly against its head, crashed against the wings with a fair bit more success.
 
 She’d dragged the dragon into a tango embellished with stars and set to the rhythm of the dragon’s teeth as they snapped down on nothing, the swish of air as it swung its claws. The Espeon danced close but never too close, enough to make the dragon find it worthwhile enough to beat thistle-shaped wings, for its owner to endorse the give and take.
 
 Then Draco changed the track with a curt “Superpower!” and Catherine nearly lost her footing as she withdrew Stella and tossed Circe back out instead, the Druddigon turning on a dime instead of hitting the wall when Circe phased through the tackle.
 
 “Up and Shadow Ball!”
 
 “Dragon Claw!”
 
 Catherine bit her lip as she watched the Gengar drag her opponent into a game of aerial tag, ignored the wave of nausea as her shadow vanished into the Gengar’s raised hand - cringed when Circe couldn’t help but be nicked by a sharp claw when she had to slow and turn to face the dragon, forced a deep breath as she heard the odd [i]vworp[/i] of the orb shooting through the air, the rough cry of the dragon, the call from the referee. Tried not to let frustration simmer for too long when she cashed her card against the ace so early in.
 
 Tried not to panic when the Altaria’s Sing actually forced Natsumi into docility, one Ice Beam just barely enough to not seal the deal.
 
 Even Draco hesitated for a moment before he narrowed his eyes and pushed his advantage. “Roost, and then go for Dragon Pulse!”
 
 The bird-like dragon sat tranquil as glowing feathers sparkled around it, mocking as it took its time, right before it spread cloudy wings wide and launched a narrow beam straight at the Lapras. Energy rippled in the air, a cosmetic difference from the fire of the other opponents.
 
 “Natsumi!” she cried, snapping her fingers. “Natsumi, shake it off!”
 
 She watched helplessly as the Lapras swayed from the impact, as her eyes fluttered and the beast slowly rose her head; as she nearly dropped again when the Altaria shot off a second beam.
 
 The third woke her up, at least, and there was no more time to waste.
 
 “Ice Beam!”
 
 The sudden cool in the air as the Lapras knocked the Altaria out helped Catherine from slipping too far from her focus, mind racing as [i]gods, okay, two more, Victor’s been in worse straits, should be able to knock out the fifth but the sixth is -[/i]
 
 When the Gyarados hovered over the arena, her Ampharos, [i]Catherine[/i], Draco was surprisingly merciful with his patience as she stiffened, as she forced herself to regain her decorum.
 
 Right. This one was normal. Lance told her its potential moveset. Right. “Thunderpunch, make it count!”
 
 “Bulldoze!”
 
 Catherine waved at the moat. “Get in the water!”
 
 Victor threw himself at the water with seconds to spare before the Gyarados thrashed and slammed his tail against the ground once, twice, over and over and over again and nearly clipped the Ampharos when Catherine told him to swim closer. The moat wasn’t all that deep, sure, but when the whole point was to not have your feet on the ground, well.
 
 A snap. “Waterfall!”
 
 She waved again, hand curling to a fist as she shouted. “Get out and go!”
 
 Albeit a little clumsy, the Ampharos scrambled back onto solid ground and broke into a run, hand sparking blinding blue and white as he wound back - didn’t waver in the face of the gargantuan wall of water pooling in the air, when he only had a second-long window before the wall dropped and he [i]swung[/i].
 
 The waves carried him all the way back to Catherine’s feet, his gem still faintly sparking, his eyes half-lidded as he mumbled discomfort. She didn’t bother looking up as the referee raised his flags in her favor (imminent with something less tanky than the Altaria) and instead crouched down, gave tender pets to Victor’s flank, gently combed his soggy pompadour away from his eyes as she resisted the urge to scream.
 
 Her panic felt near numb, deafening when she recalled him and got back to her feet. When Draco let out his ace and the Kingdra summoned the water from the moat to rest under him, a wave immortalized at its peak as it sat there. Waiting.
 
 She had nothing left. Not really. It technically wasn’t the end of the world, though, right? She still had Palmer, still had Sinnoh. And yet.
 
 And [i]yet.[/i]
 
 A small but particularly indignant part of her recalled that this was where Blaise ended, too, and she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to cry - desperately grasped the knee-jerk fire that sprung to life inside her and ran with it regardless because [i]fuck[/i] that.
 
 Natsumi was out, wasn’t intended to be used from the start. Victor was the best option for the Gyarados, there was no denying that and she knew that he couldn’t outspeed the Gyarados entirely. Stella would just be batted aside and there’d be nothing to gain. Circe was spent, could [i]maybe[/i] get in a Shadow Ball, but at what cost? There was no point in winning the match if she lost one of her core members so late in the game. Six months or not, pain in the ass or not, it just wasn’t - no. Just, no.
 
 She breathed for a moment, knew there was a bit of time permitted before she [i]had[/i] to do something. Counted to ten. Held. Exhaled. Thought, over the rushing of the water from the Kingdra’s wave. Even though Surf technically hit the entire arena, there was still a focal point that you could dodge to avoid the worst of it, and it’d be a severe penalty if Catherine was hit. It couldn’t be all encompassing lest you flood the gym, either. Manageable. So.
 
 When Chiffon popped out from her Pokeball, Catherine reached up and cradled the the Pokemon’s head in her hands. Let her nuzzle into the trainer’s hands, laughed as she pinched at the Typhlosion’s cheeks, adjusted her bow and gave her one little pat before she sent her off. Smiled serene at Draco’s grim scowl, even as the storm inside her howled.
 
 Like she’d settle for a smaller glory.
 
 “Chiffon,” she said. “Swift!”
 
 Draco tilted his head back. “Surf.”
 
 The water rushed down as stars cut it to manageable ribbons, as Catherine squeezed her fists near painful. “Smokescreen!”
 
 Her world exploded into acrid black and taste of sea salt on her tongue, blinding and rapidly thinning all the same, a small flame visible as it flickered in the dim.
 
 She heard Draco yell for another Surf and ordered for a Swift in kind, then for another Smokescreen, and then once more so she couldn’t see Chiffon’s flame, let alone Draco or the Kingdra. So Draco couldn’t see [i]her[/i] in relation to her Pokemon. The audience would have to survive.
 
 “Flash Cannon!”
 
 Her grin was near manic as she sent up a prayer. “Swift and then Smokescreen again, follow the stars!”
 
 The fact that the stars could hunt down an unseen target was something to ponder later and appreciate now. Catherine appreciated it so much that she did it again, and again, and again, an unholy combo that she knew would’ve had her screaming on the other side, that compensated for the clarity the ultralight beam had provided.
 
 Catherine let the two moves alternate for a little longer before she let Smokescreen drop completely, the stars from Swift and the Flash Cannons cutting through the dark with ease, visibility returning as the opaque blanket hung over everything turned more and more transparent, as the stars chipped away at the Kingdra, perhaps not as fast as Circe’s Shadow Ball would’ve, but every bit of damage added up when you spammed enough.
 
 She knew Draco could see her just like she could see the flames on Chiffon’s collar, knew he knew she knew he knew and -
 
 “Surf!”
 
 “Fire Punch!”
 
 Draco’s Kingdra summoned a wave in a blink and let it surge forward, not as strong as it could be, not allowed to be when Chiffon was so close but dangerous all the same. The Typhlosion bowled over and Catherine feared the worst.
 
 But then she popped back up with flames even brighter, bobbled over and under and up again and again as the waves kept coming, looked as haggard looking as the Kingdra when she finally reached it.
 
 Her fist kept clenched and blazing bright when she swung.
 
 Catherine let herself breathe when the referee raised his flag for the last time, laughed a breathy laugh when the smoke was truly and fully gone, and nearly dropped to her knees from honest to shock.
 
 Instead, she returned Chiffon to her ball and met Draco at the center to shake hands. Nodded in appreciation when she saw the respect flicker in his eyes. Just for a moment. Only a moment. A whole moment.
 
 “Congratulations on winning the Rising Badge,” he’d said, once they were back in the office. Handed her a black and red badge that winked at her when the light caught it. “Due to your victory at Blackthorn Gym, you will also receive a complimentary TM for Dragon Pulse. Please use the move if it appeals to you.” He looked up from his paperwork. “Since this is your eighth badge, you’re now eligible to participate in the last state of Kanjoh’s League Challenge.”
 
 Lance squeezed his shoulder. “Thank you, Draco.”
 
 He said nothing more.
 
 ---
 
 As lovely as it would’ve been to leave immediately once Catherine had her eighth badge, nightfall was still a handful of hours away, and thus back to the little hiding spot in the house she went.