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10 Episodes

Give Psycho Monkey a laptop and seven years and he'll produce the most epic fic on Charms. >:D
Hold my beer.

Name: Sebastiano Sixton
Gender: Male
Hair Color: Purple, fading to pink at the ends
Eye color: Blue
Birthplace: Vaniville Town, Kalos
First Pokémon: Ralts (now a Gardevoir)
Likes: Singing, dancing, playing all kinds of instruments, praise, attention, Celeste
Dislikes: Battling, being told his singing sucks, being upstaged, Celeste
Fears: Rejection
Clothing/Accessories/Appearance: Sporting tousled hair, tap shoes, and rings on all fingers of his right hand, he wears a white jumpsuit with a wide, open collar that exposes a broad swath of his chest, gold buttons lining it and the sleeves.
"Wow! She sings so beautifully! I wanna be just like her when I grow up!" a wide-eyed, 10-year-old Sebastiano gushed in front of a television screen, watching a live performance by the famous pop singer Britney Spearow, the sparks of stage pyrotechnics igniting brighter sparks of inspiration within him. He obsessively nudged his disinterested friend like a power-tripping birthday-celebrating middle-schooler who'd picked up a baseball bat for the first time and was beating confirmation out of him like a piñata. "Isn't she amazing, Gabe?! ISN'T SHE?!?!"

"Ow! Quit hitting me! I'm a Ralts, not a Wobbuffet," the Pokémon snapped. He and Seb had known each other since they were kids, though that was just a nice way of saying his Ace Trainer parents didn't give him a fuck about him and stuck the Psychic type with their son to keep him company. The two complemented each other, yet they couldn't be more different. Gabe was a dry, impassable wall, while Seb was a wave of boundless energy that constantly crashed against it. Even the most fundamental thing about them—their goals—were irreconcilable, the Ralts striving to become a world-famous battling Pokémon and the human wishing to be a dolled-up stage princess.

"What's so great about Britney Spearow anyway? I mean, she's just opening her mouth and making noise. I sound better with a sore throat," Gabe continued. "Unless you're talking about her booty shake. Maybe I could twerk up an Earthquake like that if I were a Ground type, but I'd rather watch actual moves by actual trainers. Can we change the channel already?"

"You know what, Gabe? You're a beautiful singer yourself, but you don't realize what you have and talk about it like it's nothing. I'd kill to have a fraction of your talent," Seb retorted. "...But I'm not looking to get thrown in jail. Nor will I continue to rot in the prison of my living room! From now on, no more sitting in front of the TV! I'm 10 years old, and I'm setting off on a journey to fulfill my dreams! I'll travel Kalos, take lessons, and compete in singing competitions all across the region! And you're coming with me!"

"We are not starting a group," the Ralts promptly denied. As he winnowed out the merits of his speech, however, the idea didn't seem so bad. If he left the house with Seb as his trainer, they'd enter the Pokémon League, best the nation's Gyms, conquer the Elite Four, and secure global reputations as battlers.

"...But sure, I'll join you, and I'll even give you singing lessons," Gabe compromised. "On one condition—you do the League challenge and help me get stronger."

"Are you kidding? Battling is the worst. I'm better with my eyes closed," Seb scoffed.

Their conversation had devolved into a spat and they hadn't yet agreed on anything, but it was music to his father's ears. They'd barely stood up and unglued themselves from the screen when he rushed over from the kitchen and hurried them out the door.

"You kids are going on a journey?! That's great! My son is growing up so fast!" he prodded. "Now off you go!"

"Wait, we haven't decided! Or packed our stuff!" Seb protested.

"Oh, you'll be fine! I need you out of the house as soon as possible so I don't have to pay any more window repairs from your god-awful singing, and so your mother and I can finally go on that expensive vacation to Alola..."

"What was that, Dad?"

"It was nothing! Shoo, now!" he encouraged through a plastic smile, shoving Seb and Gabe out the door and slamming it in their faces. The two stood there and stared blankly for a while, the cynical Pokémon interpreting the shutting wood as a harsh disownment and the optimistic kid hearing a powerful close to the previous chapter of his life. The latter's silence was only the calm, and in the next second, he exploded in a storm of positive emotion.

"I'm glad Dad's so supportive!"
"How?! How did someone who only picked up battling a few weeks ago manage to defeat my dad's ultimate Pokémon?!" yelled a Rich Boy, his expensive clothes ruffled and his fragile ego shattered. The seal of his leather wallet was looser than his tightly clenched teeth. He snapped the button open and disdainfully threw a wad of cash at Seb's feet.

"Is he a Fisherman or something? Dude, I think we might've killed his dad's lucky Magikarp," Gabe said.

"Wait..." questioned an oblivious Seb, gathering the bills and his thoughts. "If his dad's a Fisherman, then how come he's so rich?"

"My mom is the rich one, you idiots! And my dad isn't a Fisherman! He's a Ruin Maniac!" the Rich Boy interrupted, his head cast down and tears welling in his eyes as he confessed. "Because... he's a gold digger."

Seb had made a dirty mop of the immaculately dressed kid and wiped the floor with him, but now he just felt bad. He wanted to give the guy some advice, tell him not to give up, go catch stronger Pokémon, or pick himself up by his bootstraps... if entitled rich people did that sort of thing.

"Seb, if you're thinking of telling him to go catch stronger Pokémon, he can't. You killed them all when you were out practicing your singing in the woods," Gabe reminded. "For fuck's sake, please stick to battling. I've watched lots of bouts on TV and can say with utmost certainty that you're one of the greatest talents I've ever seen. We've only just begun and have already destroyed the trainers on this route, no sweat."

"WELL. Why don't YOU become a famous pop idol? You're a well-bred, hyperintelligent talking Ralts who also happens to SING!" Seb rejoined. "And don't curse! We're only 10 years old! Didn't your mother ever teach you not to say bad words?!"

"My mother was a Ditto in the Day Care. In other words, a prostitute. So no," the Pokémon replied. "And you're in no position to talk about family values. Your dad literally disowned you 'cause of your voice."

The Rich Boy was standing there awkwardly at this point, watching the pair bicker. It was as if everyone else were merely an obstacle standing in the way of a bitter rivalry.

"Hey, uh..." he interjected. "So I guess we all have troubled family situations, don't we?"
"Okay Seb, this isn't fucking funny," Gabe told his trainer bluntly, his face twitching like a Psychic type about to twist his neck as if it were a spoon. "You know that I'm a dude, right? Why in the Distortion World did you evolve me into Gardevoir? I should've been a badass Gallade. Then I'd look more like a battling Pokémon than freaking waifu trash."

"I made you a Gardevoir because a sweaty, disgusting Gallade wouldn't look good onstage. Besides, a crossdressing Pokémon appeals to the LGBTQ+ community. I'll make music that touches everyone," Sebastiano resolved.

"What's LGBTQ+? A stat-boosting vitamin I don't know about?" the battle-obsessed and socially clueless Gabe asked. "We're in the commercial center of the entire Kalos region! Couldn't you have gone out and bought a Dawn Stone? What happened to all that prize money we made?"

"Um... I spent it on singing lessons. I know you give me those for free, but I want to learn from everyone I can."

"What about everything we earned working for the Looker Bureau the past four months and cleaning up the streets of Lumiose City?"

"The singing instructors' medical bills."

"What the actual fuck, Seb? Because of you, we'll be living on the streets! And the fact that I look sexy doesn't help! I really don't want to follow in my mother's footsteps!"

"We don't need to sleep outside! This place provides free lodging for anyone who's doing the League challenge. So we can spend the night here, in the Pokémon Center!"

"Like that homeless man?" prompted the Gardevoir, pointing in the direction of a disheveled bum napping on a chair. "We've seen him there every day for the past few months. He's clearly mooching off our tax dollars instead of challenging the Gym. And yes, in this fucked-up world, you're legally a tax-paying adult at age 10."

"Don't judge people by their appearances! That man could've once been the king of Kalos! Anyway, look on the bright side! At least you're a flat-chested Gardevoir, not the kind drawn on body pillows that greasy neckbeards snuggle with!"

While the drifter was sound asleep and likely plastered, the eyes of everyone else in the Pokémon Center were wide awake and plastered instead to the arguing duo. Before they could go at each other's throats any further, there was a sudden explosion that ripped through the Lumiose Museum across the street and the people's attention away from them.

"How did that building blow up? I didn't hear you sing," Gabe got in one last jab. "Unless the terribleness has evolved and is now present in your regular voice."

A flash of orange emerged from the destruction and took to the skies, but the omniscient Psychic-type and Seb, who had sharp, detail-oriented eyes that corrected flaws in the dance moves he practiced, identified it clearly. A round man with a bundle of paintings strapped to his back and several pounds of stomach fat strapped to his front was fleeing the scene on a Charizard. He must've been a foreigner, since that Pokémon didn't occur in Kalos, or at least a crazy person, since art thieves were usually less conspicuous. Then again, what was sane about the universe in which they lived?

"Art thieves, huh? I know a biomechanical abomination with armblades who'd love to have a word with them. Why don't we just leave things to him?" yawned the battle-reluctant boy.

"Hell no. You are not shirking your responsibilities as a Pokémon trainer," Gabe dismissed. "Now here's what we're gonna do. We'll track down the criminal, destroy his Charizard, and return the stolen goods. Then everyone in Lumiose City will know how great we are, throw cash at us, and give us a place to stay to make up for the money you squandered."
"Is this a good thing or a bad thing? I mean, the fact that the perp didn't leave Lumiose City gives us a chance to catch him, but staying to attack Prism Tower is just... dumb," Seb commented, staring up at the criminal from Centrico Plaza. "What's he really after, anyway?"

The villain's Charizard was circling the Lumiose Gym, shelling it with bursts of fire and evolving from a thief into a full-blown terrorist. Maybe he was looking to take out the Leader, the people's symbol of hope and primary recourse in situations like this. But the ones who'd levitate up the tower and rise to the occasion were right beside them.

"Who cares? Let's kick his ass," Gabe answered. "I'll get you up there with telekinesis."

"You know I'm scared of heights! Just warp me there instead of doing it the slow way and giving me a panic attack!"

"Heh. That's totally what I was gonna do," the Gardevoir admitted with a smirk. "Aight then, time for Teleport."

The Pokémon and trainer vanished into thin air, revealing themselves seconds later in the enemy's line of fire. They'd disappeared with the kind of flash and zoom that turned off a television, but the show was just beginning. Seb was dodging fireballs and scrambling for purchase at the same time, the plunge below and the flames ahead leaving him no safe place to look. Thankfully his lithe movements would save him from death, unlike his blood-curdling voice, which ensured that of anyone who listened. The boy played as many instruments as he could, taught himself how to dance, and maximized his stage presence to compensate for his lacking vocals, and it was paying off now.

Suddenly the fiery barrage stopped, and the beating wings of an idling Charizard filled the air.

"Well, well, well. Who might you be? An extreme stuntman for an action movie, or a small child who's come to entertain me personally?" the thief asked with a sly smile, the only thing that shone on his crudely shaved, neglected face. That might've been an overstatement, since his teeth were yellow... and his bloodshot eyes were widened as if fighting off his encroaching unibrow. His most disgusting feature was his gigantic, thrusting belly weighing down on the Pokémon carrying him.

"Whoa, what the fuck? Is that Charizard panting?" Gabe asked in disbelief. "We thought you just stole paintings, but I can't even fathom how much cake you've swiped from the fridge."

"Gabe! I told you not to curse!" Seb hissed.

"I'm a fully evolved adult now, so deal with it," the Gardevoir retorted, then addressed the criminal. "...But nowhere near as big as that guy. You sure you wanna start shit? Your fire lizard looks like it'll collapse any moment now."

"Ha! Such childish arrogance!" the man laughed. "I was once the Gym Leader here, but the city dismissed me and cut off my source of income right as my wife needed treatment! I did whatever I could to cover the insane medical costs, but she eventually succumbed to her illness! I've hated Lumiose and plotted its destruction ever since, starting with its most cherished buildings!"

"And what exactly does that have to do with anything?" wondered Gabe, bored out of his mind.

"It MEANS that I was once an accomplished trainer and possess more than enough strength to crush you!"

"No shit. If you sat on me, there'd be nothing left."

"Gabe, that's messed up," Seb disapproved. "Besides, I'm more worried about his sanity. Like, is he even questioning the fact that you're a talking Pokémon?"

"Nope. He's totally off his rocker, not that any chair could hold him in the first place," the Gardevoir quipped.

"Silence! You are facing the great and powerful ex-Gym Leader, Christopher Hamburglar! I shall not be disrespected!"

Seb and Gabe weren't ready for his ridiculous name, instantly cracking up at the introduction. They would've been on the floor, but from this high up, they'd only roll off the tower summit and die of laughter, literally. So the two instead plunged into the heat of battle and prepared themselves for Charizard's next wave of attacks.

But the Flying-type didn't strike with the same short bursts it had before, spitting a constant stream of fire in their direction.

"Hey Seb, we need to stop those flames from hitting the beams! They can melt anything!" Gabe shouted.

"Huh? Where'd you hear that? I've never even held my Pokédex in front of a Charizard."

"Just trust me! I heard it on TV!"

"Real convincing..." Seb muttered. Though skeptical, he'd do as Gabe said and avoid taking chances. If the tower caved under them, it wouldn't matter if they dodged. "Fine! Use Light Screen and weaken the approaching blast!"

The Psychic-type wasted no time. He cupped his hands and spread them diagonally apart, the corners of a glossy pane following his parting fingers and completely filling the space of his outstretched arms. He pushed the newly formed screen forward, speeding it into the Flamethrower's path and filtering the blaze into embers. The reflective square wouldn't be there forever, but he was confident that the fire would peter out as its presence tested the foe's patience and made his Charizard try something else. Fat guys weren't exactly known for their self-control.

"Feh! So my move is less effective now, is it? Sneaky brat!" he spat, confirming Gabe's thoughts. "I'll hit you directly, then! Get closer, Sriracha, and give 'em an onslaught of Shadow Claws!"

"Why am I..." Gabe started, pausing to evade the fire lizard that swirled about him, periodically swooped down, and raked him unrelentingly with sharp talons that tore dark rifts in the day's light. "Why am I not surprised that you named your Pokémon after food?"

He was keeping a level head and coolly entertaining these silly questions, but as the battle drew on, Sriracha's missed attacks became grazes, then sizable cuts, then full blows. Sebastiano knew that they couldn't dodge forever without counterattacking.

"Work some Psyshocks into there, man! Make them move around!" he commanded.

"Got it," the panting Gardevoir acknowledged. His eyes glowed as they followed the circling Charizard, and his arms rose, taut and poised to strike. Invisible psychic waves honed in on his target, showing themselves in the last second and crushing Sriracha's frame. Or so his trained mind liked to think. Somehow, the Pokémon was anticipating where the Psyshocks would materialize, dipping out of the way in time and resuming its flight.

"Damn it!" cursed the Psychic-type.

"Nice attempt, but you're just a couple of kids! I'm a former League official!" Christopher taunted. "Your Gardevoir's on its last leg! Those super-effective moves ain't treating you right, are they?"

The merits of a great performer were his abilities to overcome stage fright, endure tough crowds, and remove self-doubt. Sebastiano was presently a trainer, but the same mentality applied. He stayed unbothered by Hamburglar's rodomontade and eyed him carefully, noticing his labored breath and the drops of sweat that streamed down his face. The criminal wasn't as assured as he suggested, and Gabe, however mercilessly he fat-shamed him, was onto something when he said that Charizard looked like it was about to collapse.

"HEY GABE!"

"What?!"

"USE STOMP!"

"What do you mean use Stomp?! We don't learn that-"

The Gardevoir stopped himself as he began to see what his trainer saw, no longer focusing singularly on where his next Psyshock would land and checking the opponent's condition. "Oh. So that's what's up..."

"DO IT NOW!!!"

"Heard ya loud and clear."

Gabe zipped out of the air and reappeared on Sriracha's back, dropping it like a stone. The fire lizard had indeed tired itself out and was struggling to stay afloat. Hamburglar rolled over like an engorged rat and gasped at the Pokémon's sudden presence.

"W-what are you doing?! Y-you're not supposed to attack humans!"

"Humans without balls," the Gardevoir corrected. "The uncaptured ones do it all the time. I'm not about to mutilate you, though. I'm just here to show you what happens when trainers get fat and lazy, making their Pokémon do all the work while growing weak themselves. You're supposed to get stronger together."

His speech was rather long for a finishing line, but the trip down was quite the distance. Sriracha fluttered its wings vigorously under the added weight before squawking in surrender and plummeting to the Lumiose City pavement. As Hamburglar's screams filled the heights of Centrico Plaza, Gabe inwardly hoped that the paintings would come out unscathed and thanked Arceus that Seb wasn't sailing with him, or his noises would obliterate the eardrums of everyone within a 20-meter radius.

But when Charizard crashed to the earth, Gardevoir disembarked, and the celebrating onlookers swarmed him, his sense of relief was cut short. He shuddered when they cheered, grinned, and blushed.

"Why are all your faces red? Don't tell me..." he considered dreadfully. "You saw under my skirt when the wind blew it up?!"

The police arrived on the scene, cuffing Hamburglar and collaring Sriracha. Before the cops led them away, however, a lone officer confronted Gabe.

"We appreciate your saving the city, so we'll only let you off with a warning," he decided, "for publicly exposing yourself."

"Wait, what?! First of all, it was unintentional. Second, doesn't everyone want to see under a Gardevoir's skirt?"

"That only applies to female Gardevoir, and you're male. No one wants to see that shit."
"For your courageous efforts in protecting our great city, we bestow upon you a Mega Ring, in addition to a sum of money," the mayor announced a week later at a crowded reception in Centrico Plaza.

Sebastiano received the accessory fitted with a Key Stone on a purple cushion, but his mind was somewhere else. What could he have done differently in his battle with Hamburglar? He needed to streamline Gabe's attack execution so that he wouldn't need to raise his arms before a Psyshock, or trace the shape of Light Screen in the air to make it appear. More importantly, Seb hated battling, and he had to develop a style that married his love of singing with his command of Pokémon.

"And now, our hero will sing the national anthem!" the mayor proceeded, handing the boy a microphone and snapping him out of his trance.

"I get to SING?!?!?!" he beamed.

"Oh no, this isn't good..." Gabe muttered ominously on the small stage the city had wheeled out just for the event.

"Well, here goes..." he readied himself, summoning air into his lungs and an ear-splitting demon from his mouth. "Allons enfants de la Patrie…!"

The moment the first line escaped him, all the plaza's windows exploded into showers of glass. The one discordant phrase instantly denuded Prism Tower of panes and the listeners' faces of smiles, hearts sinking and shards raining down. If drizzle accompanied sad songs, then the dangerous bits of glass perfectly complemented a song of death.

"Le jour de gloire est arrive!"

When Sebastiano belted the second line, everyone's eyes shot back into their heads like busted slot machines and foam welled up from their mouths. People dropped like flies. An old man had a heart attack. One guy's hands were trembling so much that when they moved to cover his ears, they accidentally slipped and twisted his neck. Another dude snapped his on purpose to send himself to Hell straightaway instead of sitting through the welcoming ceremony. A third man pulled out a gun, blew his brains out, and splattered the previous guy with blood. A pregnant woman suddenly gave birth, and the baby was so terrified that he learned to crawl in the span of a second and worked his tiny limbs as fast as he could to get away, his umbilical cord jerking him back like a leash, catching his mother's throat, and ripping her head off.

"Contre nous de la tyrannie
L’étendard sanglant est levé
L’étendard sanglant est levé
Entendez-vous dans les campagnes
Mugir ces féroces soldats?
Ils viennent jusque dans vos bras
Égorger vos fils, vos compagnes!
"

Seb kept on singing and singing and singing, until a hand punched him in the face and shut him up. The mayor had been closest to the auditory Grim Reaper, but he'd survived, which was not unexpected of the resilient figure who occupied the highest office in Lumiose City.

"STOP! STOP IT! STOP FREAKING SINGING!" he screamed. "Just take the Mega Ring and get the hell out of here! I can't deal with two terrorist-level threats in one week!"
"Aw hell yeah, we finally did it!" Gabriel cheered as he and Seb strolled out of their last Gym, the former brandishing a completed badge case and the latter smiling politely. "We can finally challenge the Pokémon League!"

"That's nice, Gabe, but I'm here for something else," Seb reminded.

"Oh, that's right. Isn't today your audition? Good luck."

"I'm gonna wow the judges on Kalos's Got Talent and emerge as the next big star!" Seb declared. "Can you be there? I need you in the audience cheering me on."

"Sure thing, man."

As the hours of the day passed and the sunlight faltered, Seb's excitement didn't. He confidently walked out onto the stage of the show he'd watched since childhood and took his place at the microphone, barely containing his emotions. This was it. Gabe had attained his goal of collecting the region's badges. Now it was time for Seb to achieve his.

"Hello," greeted the head judge, the notoriously hard-to-please Simon Growl. The boy heard that Simon possessed the ability to lower Attack with his condescending eyes and unimpressed frown, but he'd turn that upside down soon enough. "What's your name, where are you from, and why have you entered this competition?"

"I'm Sebastiano Sixton from Vaniville Town, and I'm gonna be the greatest singer in the world!"

"I like that," the judge replied. "Well, I look forward to hearing your song. Off you go."

An encouraging wave of applause rose through the auditorium, and when it died down, a powerful medley of drums, electric guitar, and repeatedly struck keys consumed the set. The intro played for a few seconds, the instruments escalating as Seb's nerves subsided, a series of steps providing a clear path for the smooth insertion of his voice.

"I WANNA BE THE VERY BEST, LIKE NO ONE EVER WAS!"

It was anything but. One of the stage lights exploded overhead, and a judge jerked back in his seat.

"TO CATCH THEM IS MY REAL TEST! TO TRAIN THEM IS MY CAUSE!"

Sebastiano had always been the kid who admired the singer, not the trainer to whom the tune paid tribute. Now, it was the audience members who were paying, with their lives, as their ears absorbed the foul fruits of his inspiration. Some fled their chairs and evacuated. Others stayed and tried to drown his voice out with a salvo of impassioned booing. What was unfolding in the concert hall was absolute chaos.

"I WILL TRAVEL ACROSS THE LAND, SEARCHING FAR AND WIDE! EACH POKÉMON TO UNDERSTAND, THE POWER THAT'S INSIDE!"

Three out of four judges were incessantly banging their heads on the table. One cracked her skull open and bled all over her makeup. Another shoved his index fingers so deep into his ears that he stirred his brains. A third had fallen out of her seat and was writhing about on the floor like a woman battling a demon for control of her body. Simon Growl's face was contorted beyond recognition into a disapproving grimace that stifled a river of vomit. He manned up and swallowed it as fast as he could, because he'd be damned if he let Seb utter another word. Simon raised his hand, stopped the music, and silenced the kid, leaving him confused and frantically scanning his surroundings. Gabe was his sole remaining spectator.

"W-what's going on?" asked the stunned boy. "Did you not like my performance?"

"Sebastiano Sixton, you are..." the surviving judge paused, carefully selecting his words like the sharpest knives, "...by far the worst singer I have ever heard in my entire life, which you nearly ended. The twisted cacophony that whips from your mouth like a tentacled monster is easily the most disgusting, repulsive combination of noises that has ever been forced into my ears. You will never be a great singer, a good singer, or even a mediocre singer. You must never again step onto a stage or touch a microphone in all the years you have left on Earth. I daresay that your voice is as destructive to the senses as a storm is to a ship, as a plague is to a community, as a war is to a country, as climate change is to the planet, as armblades are to noobs. No, even more so. Never, and for the love of Arceus, never, open your maw to sing ever again."

Seb was floored, his eyes wide and trembling with tears, his bottom lip shaking as if it might fall off at any second. His next words trickled pathetically from his mouth only for Simon to close the dripping faucet with a swift jerk.

"I c-could t-try... another s-song, or-"

"No! You will leave the microphone where it stands and get out of my sight this instant!"

This was the sharpest of the judge's verbal knives, and it popped Seb like a water balloon, tears pouring from his eyes and snot dribbling from his nose. He couldn't hold them in anymore. His childhood dreams of appearing on Kalos's Got Talent and establishing himself as a career artist sailed to the ground like shreds of his rubber self, his future blurred through his flooded vision. So as he ran offstage, he couldn't clearly see where he was going. All he knew was that he needed to be away from here.

"Seb, wait!" Gabe called, springing from his seat and reaching after his hurting friend. The Gardevoir had done everything he was supposed to, respectfully watching Seb's performance and not disrupting it until the very end. But he just couldn't leave him alone now.
"This isn't so bad..." Sebastiano said without conviction, having secluded himself in a faraway cave where all that could be seen were the faint outlines of stalactites and all that could be heard was the distant chirping of Zubat. "I can sing here in peace, and no one will tell me I suck..."

His tears had tried, and his bawling expression had recovered enough to allow a soft smile back onto his face. He parted his lips anew and continued the song that the judge had stopped.

"POKÉMON! GOTTA CATCH 'EM ALL!"

The darkness that consumed him rumbled like an upset stomach. Stones crumbled off the walls and skipped to the cavern floor, but Seb was too lost in his own world to notice. He closed his eyes and eliminated visual distractions, letting the sound of his voice guide him as he danced through the tunnel.

"IT'S YOU AND ME!"

The colony of Zubat he passed dropped dead. The Geodude slammed their stone fists against their heads in irritation. Stalactites snapped off the ceiling, and the murky chamber shook once more, its roof dangerously close to collapsing.

"I KNOW IT'S MY-"

"Seb, stop! It's me, Gabe! I'm here for you!" his Gardevoir called.

"-destiny..."

Before the Psychic-type could place his hands on his trainer's shoulders, the stone canopy overhead caved and buried the both of them. Gabriel tackled the human and bore the rock slide's full force, safeguarding the boy yet effectively crippling himself. When they next opened their eyes, they found themselves staring up at a grave of boulders that denied the thinnest beam of light.

"Y-you idiot, why would you... why would you put yourself in danger like this?!" the Gardevoir scolded through the pain.

"Gabe... it's okay. You didn't need to save me. I couldn't fulfill my dreams, so I have nothing left to live for," Seb lamented. "I'm sorry you had to get hurt..."

"Dumbass..." the Pokémon croaked. "Wherever you go, I follow. So if you're dying, I'm dying with you."

Sebastiano didn't feel like arguing, answering Gabe with a simple smirk that he returned. However they'd bickered in the past, the two were glad to know that their journeys would end on a note of understanding. As the suffocating tomb joined their hands and hastened their last breaths, they, in death, connected more than they ever had before. Gabe was so convinced this was their fate that when his eyes settled on a faint glow tucked behind a fallen boulder, he interpreted it as a guiding light into the afterlife. He reached for it weakly and closed his fingers around it, pulling the orb toward him and examining it more carefully.

"What's this... some kind of jewel?"

The boy and his Gardevoir had drawn a blank, but something in that inky blackness did react—the Key Stone on the former's wrist. A second glow stirred the darkness like a throbbing bullet wound, radiating with the force of the pair's bond.

"Hey... do you feel a surge of power right now? I know it's a weird question, since we could hardly move a second ago..." Seb asked.

"No... you're right. I do feel something…" the Pokémon confirmed. "It makes me... want to live. To get out of here. To keep going..."

Gabe followed the trail of thoughts in his empty mind like an undulating thread of light that led to some conclusion. Energy was building from within the burial, dislodging outer stones and poking white rays through.

"To stay by your side... and protect you always."

When he finally seized this truth that lay at the string's end, the stone heap burst open and freed the two. The Gardevoir looked different, far more feminine and swollen below the waist. He didn't stop and bristle at his appearance, for his skin already crawled with newfound vitality. He was the same Gabriel nonetheless, and when he picked Sebastiano off the dirt, he clasped the boy's shoulders as tightly as he'd meant to before.

"Listen, Seb. I'll stay by your side and follow you wherever I go, like I said earlier. But I won't let us die," he promised. "You can't give up either. You may not have realized your dreams today, but like this abandoned cave whose hidden gems people overlooked, I know there's a beautiful voice somewhere deep inside you."

The trainer had been too discouraged to stand, so he was stunned at Gabe's sudden domination and intense eyes. Seeing in them the strength of their friendship, Seb rippled with emotion right then, which bubbled to the surface of his face, reddened his cheeks, and made him lust.

"Is it... as beautiful as your new dress?~" he cooed to his Mega-Evolved partner.

"Shut it."
"You've been traveling the world for the past seven years and now find yourself in the Unova region, yet the one thing that remains constant is your lack of a girlfriend. Are Pokégirls on the internet your only type?" Gabe flatly inquired.

"My type? My TYPE, I'll have you know, is a girl who loves my singing! I don't care how she acts or what she looks like, but as long as she appreciates my voice, I'm the happiest man alive!" Seb responded defiantly, his star persona becoming more pronounced since his Kalos journey.

"So you're aromantic. Got it."

"That is NOT what I said! I'll find a girl sooner or later! Just you wait! In fact, I'm sure there's one right here on this beautiful riverside route full of trainers! I'll just sing a brief melody, and any girl who doesn't run away shall be my first love!"

As soon as Sebastiano opened his mouth and produced the first few discordant syllables of a word, everyone in the area fled, and the air became turbulent as if the wind chased after them screaming, "Wait for me!" The soft grass was blown flat, burying its blades in the soil to muffle the noise. A Magikarp that had surfaced at the wrong time and caught an earful now floated dead in the stream.

But a lone female remained, attractive with her short white tube top, hourglass figure, and long, platinum blonde hair. Well, that was how she'd normally dress. She currently wore tight-fitting black yoga pants and a cropped exercise top, oblivious to the route's sudden calm as she continued with her squats. Was she a trainer like the others here? Was she doing what Gabe once said to Hamburglar all those years ago, strengthening her own body so that she and her team could develop together? Or was she just maintaining her amazing looks?

In Seb’s eyes, they weren't her main source of appeal. No, what made it love at first sight was the fact that she'd survived the hellish vocals that clawed raspily up his throat and stumbled over each other like escaping demons, which meant that she liked his singing. He didn't notice the girl's noise-cancelling earbuds.

"GABE! I think I've fallen for her!" Seb rejoiced.

"Really? I thought you'd be into some weird shit, but she's actually a normal, pretty-looking girl."

"There's just one problem..."

"What is it?"

"HOW DO I TALK TO GIRLS?!"

"I'm a Gardevoir with a penis. You think I'd know? Just think about how you feel when you look at her."

"Well..." the man mulled. "I want her chest to seize up whenever she thinks of me. I want to constantly be inside her heart. I want us to dance together on the beach as the waves lap the shore... and I want her to feel butterflies in her stomach!"

"That's... really poetic. You should walk up and tell her all that. I'm sure she'd appreciate it."

"A-alright," Seb stammered, suddenly pale as a sheet. "I-if you s-say so."

As he approached the girl with the stilted gait of a robot about to piss himself and short-circuit, the young lady diligently proceeded with her workout. When she next picked herself off the ground, she faced an awkward 17-year-old trembling before her with his mouth pursed in a wimpy wrinkle.

"U-um... hi, my name's Seb, and I've been meaning to tell you that I want to... I want to..." he wavered, unclogging his pipes and forcing the words. But they came out all wrong. "I w-want to seize your chest... and b-be inside of you.... and g-give me a lap dance... and... and... I WANT TO BUTTER YOUR STOMACH!"

The 14-year-old stood there and stared blankly for a moment. Now, she was a very intelligent, methodical, analytical girl, so she wasn't one to get flustered easily. Moreover, she was kind, generous, compassionate, and oftentimes empathetic, so she also wasn't one to be rude. But what this purple-haired creep had said to her was blatant sexual harassment.

"Ehehehe…" she laughed awkwardly, slowly backing away and turning in the opposite direction. "I need to go for a run now!"

The girl took off in her gym clothes, sprinting as far and fast away from Sebastiano as she could. But the 17-year-old bounded after her, pulling on Gabe's arm and the violet thread of destiny that whipped through the air before him, her hair's single streak blowing in the wind. He pursued her through all of Unova, battling her and asking her on dates like a rival-stalker. She fled each time, neither looking back nor slipping, save for the name that accidentally slipped from her mouth—Celeste. Seb would remember it for as long as he lived.
"Look, you're an amazing trainer, one of the best I've ever faced..." Celeste conceded, avoiding Seb's expectant gaze. For once, she'd graced him with a few words from her beautiful mouth instead of running the instant their battle ended. "...But quit stalking me!"

This didn't discourage Seb's wide, excited eyes, which stared up at her like a puppy's and devoured the exclamation in her voice like a treat. Celeste wasn't fond of that look, for it reflected an underlying quality about him that bothered her. Even if he hadn't made lewd remarks or been annoying, she quietly despised the fact that a battler so talented treated her life's passion like it was nothing, wanting to be a famous singer yet still fighting evenly with her.

"By the way, I heard your singing..." she added, feeling her own dream disrespected, "...and it's terrible."

The girl walked away, confident that Sebastiano would never bug her again. Not only did she inwardly disapprove of him, but she also hated herself when he was around. The guy brought out a different side of her that was far less kind and intelligent than her usual demeanor. She'd always been more interested in Pokémon than humans, but she'd never encountered a person who evoked such a strong reaction from her.

The force of her words had hit Seb much harder. Just as Celeste faded into the distance, so too did his mind into darkness, and he crumpled against a tree, processing her last scathing statement. He'd been torn seven years ago after his disastrous appearance on Kalos's Got Talent, but that paled in comparison to the heartbreak he felt now. The girl he'd loved and chased across an entire region had dismissed him, calling his singing terrible and repudiating the whole reason he'd fallen for her in the first place.

"Hey uh, Seb, you okay?" asked Gabe, placing a concerned hand on the man's shoulder. He was still hurt from the bout with Celeste, but he couldn't imagine what his partner was going through. "You're not gonna shoot up a Trainer School, are you?"

The butterflies had risen from Sebastiano's stomach and flown too close to the sun, scorched to the earth by the girl's temper. He felt like a miserable, W-sitting Japanese girl whose eyes had been gouged out and stabbed to death with a butter knife exactly 1,857 times—which clearly didn't make sense, because in the Pokémon world, the nonexistent country of Japan was divided into Kanto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, and Johto, and even if Japanese people were real, working a knife into those narrow slits was pretty much impossible. Besides, who gets stabbed to death with a butter knife? Only someone whose substance is as flimsy as a piece of paper, which was exactly how Seb felt now. If there was an accurate way to describe his emotions with stupid, oddball similes, this was it.

"I'm just fine, Gabe..." he seethed. "But I'm about to end this woman's whole career."
"What's this? An invitation to a place called the Battle Spire?" Seb frowned. "Who am I kidding? I've heard of it, because I know where Celeste is at all times of the day."

"Stalker," Gabe teased. "No wonder that so-called 'invitation' doesn't sound like one."

"Yeah. I normally get letters beginning with Greetings Trainer! but I've never gotten one that started off with Greetings Dickhead! I didn't know such words were in my precious Celeste's vocabulary," the man agreed. "Guess all those world travels paid off. I'm such an accomplished trainer that she can't ignore me anymore. That woman has way too much pride, and someone should make her swallow it."

"Whoa, did she scribble this furious message herself? That is so tsundere," gasped the Gardevoir. "I think she wants your bulge."

"Well I'm gonna ram it down her throat," Seb resolved. "And by 'it,' I mean her pride."
 
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