Peaceful days have a way of slipping by faster than you expect.
In what felt like no time at all, Steven and Cynthia had been in the Alola Region for nearly half a month.
Steven had settled into a lounge chair beneath a beach umbrella, sunglasses on, wearing nothing but a pair of swimming trunks. The sun was warm, the breeze light, and for once he had no particular reason to be anywhere else.
"Steven!"
At the sound of Cynthia's voice, he sat up and pushed his sunglasses down, revealing his grey-blue eyes.
She came trotting over in her swimsuit, a little breathless.
"What is it, Cynthia?"
He shifted to make room, and she dropped onto the edge of the lounge chair beside him.
Ten days had passed since the Grand Trial. That same evening, Cynthia had demanded he demonstrate the Z-Move poses back at the villa — and he'd had no choice but to oblige, though only after confiscating her phone first. The Psychium Z stance was, in his honest opinion, deeply undignified, and no recording of it was ever going to exist.
After that, he had accompanied Cynthia to Akala Island to meet Olivia, the Island Kahuna there, so she could take on her own Island Challenge and Grand Trial. She came away with a Z-Ring, a Grassium Z, and a Rockium Z.
She had, however, flatly refused to show Steven her Z-Move poses in return. She practiced in her room with the door shut. During the Grand Trial itself, she hadn't used a Z-Move at all.
Steven thought that was quite rich, all things considered. But he understood — she simply wasn't ready yet.
"So… you mentioned wanting to see my Z-Move poses…" Cynthia's voice dropped to nearly nothing. She was fidgeting with her fingers.
"Have you finally worked up the nerve?" Steven rested a hand lightly on her waist, a small smile on his face.
She didn't answer, but she didn't pull away either. The two of them had grown considerably more comfortable around each other over the past few weeks — enough that neither remarked on it anymore.
"I haven't gotten there with the Rockium Z yet," she admitted.
"Then, my dear Cynthia, would you do me the honor of the Grassium Z?"
Cynthia stood, took a few steps forward on the sand, and turned to face him. Steven sat cross-legged and waited.
She drew a slow breath. Then she crossed her arms up in front of her face, her Z-Ring catching the light — and crouched down, hands pressed together.
Like a seedling pushing up through soil, she rose slowly. At the top of the motion, she spread her arms wide, open to the sky.
"What a wonderful tribute to the sun..." Steven's mouth curved into a wide grin.
"It's not — it's a flower blooming," Cynthia said, her cheeks going pink. She turned and dropped straight into his arms, then found the soft spot on his side and pinched it sharply.
"—ow—"
She let go only when she heard him wince, and settled back against him with an expression of complete satisfaction.
Steven rubbed his side with one hand and kept the other arm around her. "For what it's worth, I genuinely think you look wonderful doing it."
The Grassium Z suited her, he thought. For a Trainer like Cynthia, it made perfect sense. And yet it had still taken her several days to work up to it — which made him quietly wonder if he'd ever live to see the Rockium Z.
He glanced out toward the rest of the beach.
Sandslash and Aggron had gotten into some kind of argument over a sandcastle, and Larvitar was standing between them looking mildly confused. Then again, Larvitar's interest in the sandcastle was primarily as a food source. It had already eaten a noticeable section of the beach. If you asked whether it was full, it would nod earnestly — and then wander right back and start building another one to eat.
Empoleon had no interest in the sandcastle dispute. It was busy sparring with Honedge near the waterline, testing whether a well-aimed Slash could leave a clean line across the surface of the sea. Apparently it could.
Scizor had taken to sitting near Metagross during its Calm Mind sessions, as though the quiet focus was something it needed to borrow. It seemed to be processing a period of intense training.
Lucario had, somewhat unexpectedly, begun working with Cynthia's own Lucario on Aura control. The sessions had sharpened its technique considerably — though it was still a step behind the level Steven had seen from Gurkinn's Lucario back in Shalour City. There was room to grow.
Skarmory appeared to have entered another molt. Steel-grey feathers kept turning up on the sand, and Aggron kept picking them up and eating them, which had prompted Skarmory to maintain a careful distance. Given Skarmory's training schedule, a second molt within seven months wasn't entirely surprising — it had simply been working that hard. For now, it spent most of its time on the beach in what could only be described as a ground-bound walk, building up its leg strength while its flight feathers came back in.
Steven's gaze moved to one more spot — and then moved away again immediately.
Cynthia's Garchomp was staring at him.
He didn't acknowledge it. Garchomp had made its feelings about the current situation clear from the start, and Steven had learned that the most effective response was to simply not engage. Garchomp glared; Steven looked at something else. It was a workable arrangement.
Cynthia, for her part, had been spending good time with her team — not just training, but talking with them, spending time alongside them. After their sessions, she would sit with Garchomp and work out the tension in its back. Whatever Garchomp thought of Steven, it clearly adored her.
"Steven," Cynthia said, still leaning against him with her phone out, "there's apparently a festival coming up in the Kalos region in a few days."
She held the screen up toward him.
"Ansé City…" Steven read. He considered it for a moment. "We've still got two weeks of holiday left. If you'd like to go, we can."
Cynthia's hand shot up — then stopped.
"Wait, actually—" She swiped through something on her phone. "There's a Pokémon here I've been wanting to look for first."
She turned the screen to face him.
Steven studied the image. The Pokémon was bipedal, clad in layered scale-like plating. Its body was mostly grey, with jagged ridges running along its upper and lower jaw. Fine, overlapping scales covered its head, and its tail was heavily armored — the whole silhouette gave it a proud, almost ceremonial look.
"This is a Pokémon native to Alola," Steven said. "Dragon and Fighting type. Kommo-o."
It was, objectively, an impressive Pokémon. He could see why it had caught her attention.
Cynthia put her phone away and reached up to gently take his face in both hands.
"Can we go find one~?"
"If you're interested," Steven said, "then we'll go tomorrow."
Cynthia beamed.
"You're the best, Steven."
…