From the Vast

Interlude V: Opportunity

"Now stopping at: ROSEBURN CRESCENT."

The ailing headphones' tinny tune left the announcer's call only barely audible. Their music was one of her few remaining comforts left—the very last, if her plan ended up not working out. Emma shook at the thought, but didn't let it take over her mind. She would need all the clarity and focus for what she was about to do she could get her hands on.

Her gesture to stash the earbuds back into her jacket pocket caught the attention of her companion, making them hop off their seat and onto the floor of the bus. It netted them a profoundly exhausted chuckle. Which in turn drew their attention back over to their human.

"Not yet Spots, not yet."

With their overeager response diffused, the Snubbull hopped back onto the seat, turning to look at their human in concern. She hasn't been doing well for... a while now. Her mood only got worse each time the Fairy-type had lost on the battlefield. Affirmations weren't far behind when that happened, neither were reassurances that Spots wasn't the problem—or Noodles, for that matter.

Not... inherently so, at least.

Without any distractions, Emma's thoughts inevitably steered back to money. So dumb, so anxiety-inducing, so necessary.

So sorely lacking.

She'd done and re-done the math again and again, only ever arriving at the same result each time. Between the monthly League stipends, the pittance she got her parents to send her when she reminded them she was—in fact—still underage, and the expenses of food, Pokecenter visits, having somewhere to sleep at, and other supplies, she needed to be winning around three battles a month for the League-issued prize money to keep her afloat.

The last time her team had won was almost half a year ago.

Week by week, her upbeat attitude about it all wavered. With each loss, her battle record turned from a streak of bad luck to a scathing indictment of her as a trainer. Reserved strategies, hyper-offense, even playing as defensive as possible while trying to abuse Noodles' Leech Seed.

Nothing worked, nothing kept working. Each time, her optimism only lasted until the first barrage of blows was exchanged, until the loathed truth shoved itself into her face yet again.

Spots and Noodles just weren't strong enough.

Emma had tried the same training regimen as everyone else, but just couldn't keep going. It hurt her friends so, so much, leaving them almost fainted every time. She refused to settle on that being the only way forward.

There was no way that everyone who'd climbed further had only managed to do so through misery. She remained resolute that her team could keep moving on and keep growing stronger without it, without subjecting them to that kind of hell.

And then, they didn't.

That's not what any of this should've been about.

Sure, rigorous training was a part of their journey, but it wasn't supposed to be the only one! The dreams of it being all about friendship and bonds were childish oversimplification—she knew that well—but a part of her kept hoping they weren't all bunk. That, deep inside, there really was a kernel of truth to them all, and that a no-name upstart like her could make it did if she just kept trying.

Because the alternative... there wasn't one.

"Now stopping at: SATOSHI STREET."

*whi-whine?*

Spots' audible concern snapped her human out of her anxious thoughts, making her hold the Snubbull closer. None of this was her fault, none of this should've been her fault. Neither she nor Noodles deserved to be forced to suffer just to keep their human afloat. Emma had promised herself that she'd rather take her own life than stain those of her companions with constant, agonizing training.