Every breath echoes back to me. My footsteps reverberate and are much louder here than I would like. The light of the outside world was left behind a while ago. In front of me is nothing but the endless path to nowhere, while orange-coloured lamps on the ceiling provide enough light to avoid tripping over the nearest stone.

  Still, I can’t help the tightness in the pit of my stomach. Not knowing where the thief is hiding makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I can’t hear any strange gasps or the voice of a Pokémon that might be fighting for its life. I am wandering in a world where there seems to be only me.

  At least this feeling haunts me until I can make out a figure. He doesn’t look in my direction, scans the heavy boulders in front of him with his hands and looks up several times as if he could climb over the metre-high elevations. With a little patience and enough effort, it may be possible, but with his black boots and light blue trousers that are far too wide, he isn’t equipped well enough to attempt such a climb.

  Silently, I creep forwards, hoping he doesn’t hear the stones crunching under my soles. A small Wingull sits next to him on the Devon’s parcel, unable to run away or fly because the watchful eyes of a Poochyena rest warningly on it. One false move and it probably rams its fangs into its victim’s body.

  “Bloody hell!” Smashing a fist against the stone, the brute turns in my direction. It’s a single second when our eyes meet, and I hastily grab a Poké Ball.

  But in the same blink that Eevee manifests, the guy grabs the Wingull. With nimble fingers, he pulls out a pocketknife and places it menacingly close to the Pokémon’s wing.

  “One wrong move and I’ll make sure this creature never sees the world from above again.”

  There’s nothing I can do. Not a single thing. Lum won’t be able to reach him before Wingull loses a wing. On top of that, this guy doesn’t look like he’s kidding. I’m sure he’ll make good on his threat if I don’t do as he asks. So I raise both hands. Then I gesture to him I will call Eevee back so as not to create any more danger. He nods his chin in my direction to give me “permission”.

  The darkness of the cave reacts to the red glow in which Lum retreats. It dazzles for a breath in the middle of this otherwise faint brightness – giving me the chance to reach into my coat pocket and release Mimikyu. She’s smart enough to hide in the surrounding shadows. She can’t disappear in them, but thanks to the Zorua costume, she won’t be noticed in the darker corners of this cave.

  My job now is to distract him.

  “What do you want with these Devon wares?” Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I grimace. “Dispose of them because they contradict your worldview?”

  “What do I know?” He shrugs his shoulders as if there’s nothing he needs to question here and now. “I’m just doing what the bosses tell me to do. They need these goods for their plan.” He shakes his head hastily. “None of your business, girl!”

  “Doesn’t it bother you to have no clue what the organisation you work for is planning?” Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Mirra’s shadow moving further towards Wingull. Poochyena’s nose is already twitching suspiciously, but I want to believe that Mimikyu can act faster than this Pokémon. As soon as Wingull is safe, I throw Raya at this guy.

  “Why would it?” The thief’s snort echoes through the cave. “I know we’re operating for a very important goal! That’s enough for me!”

  It sounds like the justification of a man who simply wants to stand for something. As long as the cause they are fighting for seems important, nothing else matters. Before this organisation, he probably never held a position in life that had even a hint of big machinations. It’s probably the same for many people: they long for an important role in life without finding it. That’s why they always end up with people who are just using them. At least I can’t imagine that Maqua’s leaders have any genuine interest in their subordinates.

  “And that’s why it’s okay to kidnap a Wingull and possibly cause damage to an old man who can’t do anything about it?”

  “That’s just for safety!” the guy roars. He lowers the knife slightly. “I can’t let my bosses down!”

  A brief flicker behind him gives me the signal to act, which is why I take a deep breath. “Then you’ll have to let yourself down first!”

  He doesn’t understand my words before Mirra’s black claws chase out of the darkness and seize the Wingull. His eyes widen and his mouth opens, shock pockmarking his body. As he lets go, the knife crashes to the ground, Poochyena jumps back in surprise, and I grab Raya’s ball.

  However, in the same breath, I am overcome by doubts about my actions. According to some reports in the books I can read here, there are Pokémon in this tunnel that are sensitive to noise, and after the chaos in Alola when Lillie and I ran away from a swarm of Zubats and Digletts, I don’t need another experience like that. So I get moving, charging towards the thief and leaving Mirra to corner Poochyena.

  It’s a daring attempt to grab the stranger by the wrists and try to overpower him. If I win, we can take him to the Devon Corporation and question him. Maybe then we’ll get a better picture of the situation we’re in.

  But in the end, I’m nothing more than a girl who can’t hold a candle to a full-grown man. Without problems, he pulls away from me and pushes me aside, and although I still reach for Ying, he runs off. He leaves the goods behind, as well as his Poochyena, who barks pitifully before chasing after its trainer with its tail between its legs.

  “What a coward...” Hands on my sides, I should consider myself lucky for his behaviour. Then again, it’s ridiculous for a full-grown man to run away when he could have done a thing or two to get the upper hand.

  Slowly, my gaze slides to the Wingull, sitting on the ground with its compact body and making a sound that doesn’t quite resemble cooing but doesn’t match the chirping I recognise from Pikipek either. The next moment I turn my attention to the Devon goods – whatever’s inside – and when I pick up the handy parcel, it’s heavy in my hands.

  “Tracking bad man?” Mirra, creeping leisurely out of the shadows, tilts her costume head.

  I shake my mop of hair. “We’d better get this back before something else happens. It wouldn’t help if I lost the parcel again.”

  A minute later, I call Mimikyu back into her ball before turning my attention to the Wingull, which is still sitting motionless on the ground. I can’t just pick it up in my arms, the parcel is too heavy for that, but when I offer it the box to sit on, it flutters up in one leap. It settles down on the same spot where it was sitting before, and I’m glad that it saves me a few hours of persuasion.

  The walk back is quicker than I expected. It doesn’t take long for the outside world to embrace me in its cold arms, where the setting sun glistens golden on the horizon. I will never, ever be back before nightfall. The certainty elicits a heavy sigh from me, which is interrupted when the old man’s joyful voice reaches me.

  “You’ve saved my Peko!”

  At the same moment as he spreads his arms, the Wingull flutters from the parcel to its owner. It lands on the old man’s chest with such vigour that a stifled laugh escapes him before he gently hugs it to him. Admittedly, they seem to be an adorable team.

  “I’m glad the Explorers came here. Can’t imagine what would have happened if no one had been here to help.” He shakes himself. “Maqua hates the Devon Corporation and Exceed. For the past two months, they’ve only been targeting said research institutes.”

  With my hands buried deep in my coat pockets, I try to imagine the sudden turnaround, and Fennel’s words pop back into my head. “Probably because they see the research as environmental pollution... Some chemicals aren’t good for our environment.”

  “Which is why these institutes are always being inspected by the government to make sure nothing dangerous is being thrown into the environment. The scientists here in Hoenn go to great lengths to keep our environment safe. I hear every other region is just as strict about it... Except maybe Unova, where there are problems from time to time...” With quick hand movements, he tries to push the topic back in the right direction. “Anyway, there’s no reason for Maqua to attack any scientists unless they go against what Maqua is so upset about.”

  He’s probably right, but I can hardly imagine that all measures will always work exactly the way you want them to. When I think of Ghetsis, it seems you can fix a lot of things with money. He had a castle underground. At some point, he will have paid someone for his silence. Not least because the police didn’t work properly until the last moment. Otherwise, some members would have been prosecuted for theft much earlier. All other regions are unlikely to be any different.

  Ultimately, however, the behaviour of the people here is out of my hands. My motto remains the same: I don’t want to contribute to many things, and if I can manage that, then that’s enough for me. So I can only nod at the old man before heading home. While he offers me to stay in the labourer’s house and have a hot cup of tea, I have no choice but to decline. If I waste any more time, I won’t be back in Rustboro until visibility is almost non-existent.

  》 WHISPERS 《

  As expected, the sky has already dipped into the darkest shades of blue by the time I reach Rustboro City. The cold sits treacherously in my bones, and my fingers tremble. Holding this damn parcel makes me feel like every hand is frozen. Part of me tries to distract myself with thoughts about my Pokémon; for example, whether they can sense the cold in their balls. The rest of me can’t block out the shaking shoulders because the cold sweat on my skin only makes it seem that much frostier.

  Every breath draws white clouds in my surroundings, and while I can no longer feel my nose – or even any other part of my face – I’m sure I can feel moisture on my upper lip. It burns a little, and when I wipe it off with a sleeve, there’s only a wet sheen.

  It’s not far to the Devon Corporation, and as I stumble through the door into the reception room, I thank the world for the warmth that immediately snuggles up to me. The man behind the reception desk gives me a friendly nod, and the artificial, albeit warm, light gives me a sense of security.

  I slowly make my way over to him and place the parcel on the counter. “Devon goods ... that have been stolen.”

  Despite my terse paraphrase, he understands immediately and doesn’t hesitate for a second to reach for a Rotom Phone to call someone. He exchanges short words in a distorted voice. I don’t listen; instead, I imagine disappearing to my room afterwards and taking a hot shower.

  Unfortunately for me, they don’t seem to want to let me go.

  “Mr Stone would like to see you,” begins the man behind the reception desk. “Please take the lift on the right to go up to the sixth floor.”

  I’m almost surprised that the owner’s office isn’t on the top floor. But I’m glad that I don’t have to go up to the moon to drop off the Devon goods that are being pushed towards me again.

  With the parcel once more in my hands, I make my way to the aforementioned lift to ascend the floors to an area that greets me with precious glass cases and their showpieces. I creep cautiously over the cream-coloured marble tiles, around a corner that allows a clear view of a dark wooden desk. Behind it, a man with unruly hair that he must have tried to gel into shape only to fail miserably. The dark purple suit on his plump body somehow doesn’t match the blue tie – or the friendly smile with which he welcomes me.

  “So you’re Domino from the Explorers!” He straightens his shoulders before standing up and shaking my hand across the table. “I’ve already heard of you.”

  I want to ask, but Amethio has probably dropped my name because of my desire to become a professor. So I put the goods down on the table in silence and accept his greeting with a thin smile.

  “The goods you brought back today were very important. They are to be used for a minor research project for a new underwater boat!” The enthusiasm in his words seems to do everything it can to arouse my interest. However, I have no grasp of machines and can’t claim to have much curiosity about them either. “You should know that the submarine you and the others on your team are using was designed and built by the Devon Corporation. Just like the warp tiles, which I’m sure you’ve seen somewhere before. I’ve heard that the Explorers’ headquarters refrain from taking warp tiles, and they’re not very popular at Exceed either, but some department stores adore them!”

  Or people who want to drive you mad. Lusamine, for example. Or the Elite Four of Unova. But apart from that, there are a lot of inventions here that look fascinating in their own way. Some of them tempt me, so I take up the offer to look around.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Passing display cases, a few Poké Balls catch my eye that I’ve never seen in a shop before. One of them is snow white. Another has a transparent top, which holds my interest for longer than necessary.

  “Ah, I see you like a test version of the traditional Poké Ball!”

  Everything inside me flinches before I whirl round to Stone, who is standing behind me with a broad grin. He also scrutinises the round transport balls before a sad laugh escapes him. “Actually, these balls were supposed to replace the classic Poké Ball. Unfortunately, the idea never materialised because many trainers couldn’t stop watching their Pokémon sleep. It has strained many a relationship between the fronts, which is why it has remained with the conventional design. These had great potential to make it clear which partner was in which ball.”

  I can imagine how uncomfortable it must be to sit in a ball and be watched by your trainer for hours on end. I would probably also find it hard not to keep checking on my team, especially as they certainly look tiny and cute in these balls. Even a Salamence could be as cute as a Snom in a home like this.

  However, the thought fades as something completely different comes into my head. “You invented Poké Balls?”

  Stone shakes his head hastily. “Not really. We just made sure that Poké Balls became marketable. You should know that many years ago, they were made from apricorns, and this approach lasted until two decades ago. However, there are very few people in the world who still know how to make balls from said fruit. And no matter how hard we have tried to implement this process mechanically, it only works with manual labour.”

  “So you switched the material from apricorn to metal?”

  “Exactly.” He folds his hands behind his back. “Apricorns aren’t unlimited, and many people have longed to become trainers or bind a friend to them. Of course, you don’t have to lock Pokémon in balls, but at a certain point, it was safer to think about alternatives. By the time a Charizard stands in the shopping centre and accidentally sets something alight with its flaming tail, the circumstances don’t look good.”

  He looks at the items on display in the showcase for a moment. “So we thought about how we could create more, which led to most balls being made of metal these days. This also assures coaches they are durable. Apricorns break quickly if you’re not careful. Many Pokémon have lost their homes because of careless trainers and have often had to make do with not having a ball for a while. You need to know that apricorn balls were expensive because of the manual labour involved, and there were often none in stock. Then the trainers had to sign up for a waiting list that was sometimes up to a year long.”

  I can imagine how unpleasant that must have been. A large Pokémon can hardly relax in a small room. Presumably, all this has led to a lot of stress and perhaps even accidents.

  “But if these apricorns could absorb a Pokémon, how did you do it?”

  “Good question!” Stone raises his index finger instructively before opening a display case and fishing out a ball with a transparent surface.

  He skilfully opens it to allow me a look inside. Everything looks seamlessly connected, as if the ball had simply been poured into a mould – hinged joint included – and I have to narrow my eyes into slits to see the tiny screws that connect the top and bottom parts to the middle section.

  “You probably can’t see it because you don’t know what to look for, but the Poké Balls are coated. Of course, it’s a secret what our coating is made of, but I can tell you that eighty per cent of it is made of apricorn.” He hands me the little work of wonder. “We believe these fruits have something to turn Pokémon into their smallest selves. A kind of ... biological component that goes hand in hand with that of our Pokémon and allows changes that may not be major but are extremely useful.”

  Mesmerised by Stone, I cradle the ball back and forth in my fingers. “You haven’t researched this any further?”

  A smirk settles on his features. “I see you’re at least as curious as I am! That’s good to see. And yes, we’ve researched it, but we’ve never been able to find out exactly what makes this connection work. Even today, some scientists are still working on this mystery, but I think it will remain a well-kept secret for many years to come.”

  It almost tempts me to want to find out more. But Poké Balls aren’t the kind of research I should be doing here and now. Sure, I promised Natural something, but my best option to find out if our partners are comfortable in their little living quarters is to ask them. I don’t have the power to do it the way he does, but I’ll find my way.

  Who knows? Maybe Natural will solve this puzzle all by himself by questioning as many Pokémon as possible.

  “As a young trainer, I’m sure you’re also interested in cures and how to use them, aren’t you?” Mr Stone doesn’t let me wallow in my thoughts for too long. His corpulent body saunters over to another display case, where I recognise some canisters even without following. I remember them. A similar potion helped me in the fight against Guzma.

  I follow him anyway, so as not to be rude, and also perhaps to learn a few things that I would otherwise neglect in my Pokémon research.

  What takes up space in front of me are potions in various containers and colours. Mr Stone allows me a few breaths of confusion before pointing a finger at a handy canister.

  “You can usually get these at the Pokémon Center if you haven’t given any more specific details beforehand. They also are on display because most trainers simply need a potion that can be used in battle. Canisters that can be bitten into are the most practical option. And because the ultra-thin plastic is biodegradable, it won’t even harm a Pokémon if it swallows it.”

  Raya probably gobbled down a few smaller pieces at the time. I can’t imagine that the powerful bite on such a canister could go cleanly.

  “However, outside of a fight, trainers much prefer to use spray bottles,” Stone continues, pointing to the slightly curved containers. “They are useful for treating superficial injuries. There’s also a mix, of course.” His finger moves to a square bottle, which also has a spray option. “However, they are less popular because the spray head can cause discomfort if it is swallowed. We are still working on a solution.”

  “And then there are simple bottles that can be consumed after a battle,” I finish the presentation of the various containers, and Stone nods.

  “Particularly suitable for Pokémon that have humanoid characteristics and can grip such bottles well. Rather unsuitable for a Stoutland.” A contented sigh escapes him. “It’s nice to talk to someone who’s interested in these things. The researchers here rarely talk about anything else, but they know their stuff. It’s much nicer to share your knowledge with those who are still a little ... fascinated by it all.”

  “Perhaps you could teach them something about fighting,” I reply. “The researchers here don’t seem to be able to defend themselves, which isn’t ideal in this situation.”

  “You may be right about that.” He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s a never-ending theatre. Some researchers want to deal with fights, but very few find suitable partners or the time to train them.” He slowly makes his way back to his desk. “Maqua takes advantage of this. They just sit out the time you Explorers rush to help. Most of the time, a few of you only stay a few days with nothing happening. For a while I turned to my children for help, but my son is a champion of this region and is very busy with archaeological finds around stones, besides his duties here. My daughter, meanwhile, doesn’t think much of Pokémon battles and wants nothing more than to get away from Hoenn and her father’s company.”

  He’s probably alone most of the time, like my father. The only difference is probably that they are still in contact. That’s nice, but also sobering. Despite his children, he can’t expect help when he needs it. Instead, he has to turn to us Explorers. Above all, a champion of the region should ensure that problems like the one with Maqua don’t happen.

  “What about the police?” Raising my eyebrows, I step closer to his desk.

  In the meantime, Mr Stone sits down in his chair, panting. “I really don’t want to speak ill of our law enforcement officers, but ... they’re lousy at their job. Most of them come from the academy and have no experience. Their Pokémon are a lot weaker than you’d think, and they’re only half-heartedly dedicated to training because it’s peaceful most of the time. A disease that is also found in many other regions. Peace weakens all those who should be heroes when something shakes the unity. That’s why companies like the Devon Corporation increasingly have to rely on trainers and perhaps guilds. You may have heard of these gatherings where people want to see the world rather than be part of the trainer battles on the net. They often take jobs on the side and trade information.”

  The first person who comes to mind when I hear this description is Bellro. From what I remember, he belongs to one of these guilds – always looking to earn money wherever he can.

  “If my daughter took over all this instead of chasing after idle dreams, I could devote much more time to Maqua. Who knows, maybe I’d even fight them and win.” A raspy laugh escapes him. “But what am I talking about? We should focus on your reward.”

  I immediately raise my hands. “Not needed. I’m here to help.”

  He waves me off. “And yet I’m happy to support my helpers. If you like, I can give you some balls that are transparent at the top. Only if you like them and want them, of course. Apart from that, I would like to transfer a reasonable amount of money to your team. Normally all my payments go to Gibeon, but I would be happy if I could thank you personally in this way. You know, in secret.”

  What can I say to such an offer? I’m in no position to make such decisions. The Explorers’ finances are managed by Hamber and Gibeon. Amethio takes care of everything to do with money if we have to go somewhere. If I say yes here and now, there’s a good chance I’ll be held accountable.

  I feel my mouth open a few times and then close wordlessly. No matter what I might say, the chances of doing the wrong thing are too high. Something Mr Stone notices too, as he puts on a friendly smile and simply moves on to the next topic.

  “Besides, while you’re here, I’d like to ask you a favour,” he begins. “I have a letter here for my son. I usually have a Wingull run errands like this, but depending on where Steven is, it could very well take forever before the letter finds him.”

  A quick swallow moistens my throat before I try to engage with the new topic. “Why don’t you just send him a message by Rotom?”

  “It would be so easy if I could rely on him to read the message. My children and technology are two worlds that don’t really go together.” He leans back in his chair. “Steven likes to try out new things but usually gives them away afterwards. He also leaves his Rotom all over the place. Which means he only reads some messages after four weeks have passed. I don’t need to expect much more from my daughter. She has as much interest in being reachable as a Joltik has in the bathtub. Even if I call one of them, it usually ends in silence.”

  His explanation sounds unbelievable. I had little more than a flip phone that could just about do the bare minimum. Now that I have a Rotom Phone, everything has become much easier – even if the learning curve hasn’t yet reached its end and I wouldn’t claim to understand much about technology. However, I can hardly imagine what it would be like without this device by my side. Being able to contact someone when you’re in trouble is just as important as being able to keep in touch with others. Either the Stone children are so strong that they never worry about anything, or they live a peace that doesn’t rely on other people.

  Whatever the reason, part of me would love to meet one of his kids to see how they get on without technology and what kind of person they are. So I agree with his request. With that, he presses a white envelope into my hand, which I keep between my fingers so as not to crumple it by accident, and tells me the destination. Then, straight away, I turn round and leave Stone’s office behind.

  As soon as I reach the lift, I pull out Rotom to send a message to Conia. Going to Dewford alone is no problem, but it’s much more fun with someone else. It would also be nice to talk to someone and perhaps get some advice about the reward on offer. However, I can imagine that Mr Stone will turn to Amethio.

  As the Rotom vibrates, my attention wanders back to the display. Conia’s reply tells me she doesn’t have time to accompany me. Her job, along with Zir's, is to check out some of the nearby Devon Corporation offices and monitor any suspicious characters.

  That means I’ll be travelling alone. First thing in the morning, as soon as the first rays of sunlight hit Hoenn.

  》 WHISPERS 《

  One of my worst qualities is making plans I can’t follow.

  When the first rays of sunlight grazed Hoenn, the alarm clock showed just before seven, and when I looked outside – at the frost in the trees, through the fogged-up windowpane – I realised that I’d much rather spend another hour or two in bed. It’s not like anyone is waiting for me. Steven Stone, the recipient of the letter, is somewhere in Dewford Town. He’ll still be there in two hours. For sure.

  With my nose buried deep in the collar of my white winter coat, I listen to the quiet clacking of my boots. Even now, around ten in the morning, there is hardly anyone out here. Rustboro seems deserted. It’s probably because it’s Saturday and no one sets foot outside unless they absolutely have to.

  I take a quick look back at the Devon Corporation. It won’t be long before it’s out of sight. Then it’s just me, Rotom, my team and the letter that I’ve put into a jacket pocket with difficulty so that it doesn’t wrinkle.

  Every breath draws a white veil in the air. The clouds in the sky hint at rain, and everything in me harbours a secret desire not to have to wade through a damn downpour on the way there.

  “Domino!”

  The sudden voice behind me makes me pause. My heart skips a beat. Although I recognise the sound, I can’t believe my ears until I see the matching face. Amethio is hurrying in my direction in long strides, wrapped up in his dark blue winter jacket and wearing boots that would even get him through a snowy landscape.

  Immediately, I bury my hands a little deeper in my pockets and tighten my shoulders. I shouldn’t look as tense as the rest of me feels right now.

  “You’re on your way to Dewford?” As soon as he reaches me, he speaks up. “Mr Stone let me know he asked you for something.”

  “Because of the ‘reasonable amount of money’ he wanted to give us?”

  He nods. “I will accompany you.”

  “Why?” My question sounds a little harsher than it should. I feel like I’m drying out on the one hand because his sudden appearance makes my skin crawl. Then again, there’s a quiet worry growing that maybe he still doesn’t trust me to handle things on my own.

  “Steven Stone is someone the Explorers do business with when it comes to evolution stones. Along with his father, he’s one of our biggest customers. He wants me to make him an offer.”

  A perfectly logical explanation. I don’t even know why I’m worried. Yesterday he also left me sitting on my messages, even though I was following a member of Maqua. That he trusts me should no longer be up for debate, and yet – it’s hard to suddenly believe that anything has changed.

  My lungs suck in the cool air a little deeper as I pinch the palm of my hand. Don’t get distracted. There’s a job to do, and now there are two of us.

  “Mr Stone has already let them know we’re travelling to Dewford. We’re awaited,” continues Amethio. “We’ll fly as far as the jetty at Route 104.”

  Unlike me, he has the option of deciding this, and I realise how much more practical it would be to include a Flying-type Pokémon in the team. One that is bigger than Coro. A new partner to fill the gap left by my Toucannon.

  A ridiculous thought.

  Maybe it’s enough for me to rely on Amethio on days like this. Like in those seconds when I let him help me onto Corviknight, and the Pokémon takes off with a flourish.

  The headwind numbs my face within seconds, and although my heart is still hammering against my chest, I bury my nose in Amethio’s shoulder. This way I can enjoy some warmth and simultaneously savour the closeness that I otherwise get far too rarely. I would love to ask him how his day went yesterday.

  Why didn’t you answer me?

  Were you able to find any clues?

  Is there anything new from Hamber?

  Do you need me for anything?

  We could have an endless conversation about these topics – for sure. But apart from that, it’s this sense of security, this pulse of another, that sparks another train of thought in the back of my mind.

  What if I were to tell him how I feel now?

  My lips press together so tightly that it hurts. It’s not the right time, nor am I sure what I want. Even if I can communicate my feelings to him, then what? There’s no reason to tell him how fast my heart beats when I’m with him. After all, I can’t tell him what I want.

  A relationship? That would probably be the most logical conclusion.

  But what is a relationship? What would change between us? Would there be a change at all, or would these words that lie so deep inside me simply disappear into thin air?

  They are nonsensical thoughts. Even if I want to spend more time with him and can hardly imagine anything more exciting than being hugged or kissed by him, we are in no position to have a conversation about it. Here in Hoenn, we have a much more important task. I should make the most of our time together – as I did in Unova when the opportunity presented itself.

  But under no circumstances should I go too far.

  Like on Halloween, it’s better if I keep a low profile.