Covalence: Chapter 2

Zinnia showed up at her normal time the next day, as Weft predicted. Lyte hadn’t really thought she wouldn’t—it felt a bit absurd, in retrospect, to be worried she would go find another coffee shop—but it was still a relief to see her in line and link connection orbs.

After that, the rest of the week passed even slower than usual, each day feeling longer than the last. By the time Friday afternoon arrived—on schedule, despite everything—the minutes were barely crawling by.

Lyte had paced in his little apartment for as long as he could bear. The storm was so soon, he couldn’t do anything; he couldn’t even bring himself to log on to FWO2 for some farming. Checking the clock and seeing the same minute for the fifth time was the final straw. Screw it, I’ll be early. The pikachu pulled on his raincoat (a bright yellow a little greener than his fur) and headed out.

The trip to the park involved, of course, more waiting. At the tram station, Lyte double checked his directions: Old Town Park, downriver, so he didn’t need to cross the tracks. While he waited, he kept glancing at the sky. It had been overcast all day, but the morning’s dull white clouds had become a dark and lowering gray. A breeze ruffled his fur, blowing an empty snack wrapper along the tracks. It looked like it was setting up for a miserable time.

The incongruity tickled him; there was a thunderstorm brewing, and he was specifically heading out to get caught in it, on purpose. For a date. Is it a date? Lyte wondered, not for the first time. He’d chatted with Weft about it, and her advice had basically boiled down to “don’t worry about it”. The pikachu fished his orb out of his coat pocket and scrolled through last night’s conversation.

Easy to say, hard to do, especially when “the moment” was as monotonous and boring as waiting for the tram. Obviously he shouldn’t be worrying about it, but he was, so now what…?

Lyte sighed, fidgeted with his paws, and typed another message to her.

He didn't really expect a reply, but it felt good just to put his feelings *somewhere*. He went to slip the orb back into his pocket, but to his surprise, it buzzed. Lyte shook his head in mock exasperation and chuckled despite himself. *Why is she like that, indeed.* He glanced up at the display to see the tram was only a minute away. She'd passed the time *and* made him feel better. *OP, tbh.* He sent her a "thanks 🥰" and watched the distant glow of lights get brighter and brighter.

The tram arrived in a rush of wind, screech of wheels and squeal of brakes. Lyte tapped the lowest orb reader on the platform, waited for the doors to creak open, and hopped aboard. Like most things in Halcyon Falls, it had seen better days; the seat cushions were worn thin with age, the windows smudged and scuffed, the floor scratched by thousands of sets of claws. The car was nearly empty, so Lyte jumped up onto the first row of seats and sat by the river side window. The seats were sized for small to medium pokémon (larger pokémon were expected to stand), and the window was just barely low enough for him to see out.

As the tram rumbled its way out of the station, Lyte texted Zinnia that he was on his way. He tucked his conn orb away and settled in for more waiting. At least he had some scenery to look at, though it was mostly the other train track, the river, and sparse trees on the bank. Lyte watched the Halcyon River rush by below, its turbulent waters as dark as the skies above. The tram followed the gentle bends of the river, with the occasional bridge to break up the monotony.

The buildings across the river went from tall apartments and office buildings to lower warehouses and industrial buildings in increasing states of dilapidation. The fork of the Halcyon River had historically been an important inland port, connecting trade between the rest of Kelmaria and Verdania to the north. Then the canal had been built further downriver, and the industry—and money—followed, leaving Halcyon Falls to slowly wither.

Lyte wondered if whoever named it had a prescient sense of irony, or if they were nostalgic for something it had never been. Probably neither. It’s probably something stupid, like it was founded by John Halcyon. He slumped against his paw as he watched the scenery fly by outside. He was close now; across the river, many old buildings were covered in vines. Their windows—of those that had any to begin with—were mostly boarded up, and the few that weren’t were dark and dusty, staring back at the pikachu like empty, soulless eyes.

Finally the train slowed for his stop, Central Old Town, screeching and creaking as it pulled to a halt. Lyte stepped off and was greeted by the wind and an empty platform. The tram squealed off behind him while he checked a map, leaving him alone.

The park was only a few blocks away. With his heading confirmed, Lyte set off along empty streets. The trip felt eerily lonely; he only passed a single pokémon on his way there. Everyone else was sensibly indoors, leaving the wind as his only consistent companion. At least we won’t have trouble finding a spot to sit.

Gravel crunched under his paws as he stepped into the park proper. He’d been to this park before, but it had undergone a complete transformation with the oncoming storm. The sloping grass felt drab and unwelcoming, the trees no longer providing friendly shade and instead casting cold and hostile shadows. The willows close to the river rustled in the wind, their green leaves standing out against the dark sky. The weight of the clouds was almost palpable, like they were urging him to turn around and go home.

Lyte was definitely tempted. “Lovely weather we’re having,” he said to himself, just to hear something besides the wind and the path beneath his paws. He looked around and headed for the nearest picnic shelter, a simple peaked brown roof atop posts.

The park was pretty green, relatively speaking. The area around Halcyon Falls could generously be called “scrubland”: swathes of arid land dotted with bushes and thin grasses. The land here was right next to the river and positively lush in comparison. Outside of the open grassy spaces there were clumps of shrubby bushes defending cacti reaching prickly limbs towards the sky. Down by the river, wider and slower here, the rushes bowed in the wind, adding a soft rustling to the air.

The pikachu stepped out of the stormcloud gloom and into the even darker space under the shelter’s gabled roof. At the nearest picnic table, he hopped up onto the bench and then the table itself. Even with a weak leg, jumps less than twice his height were short and easy enough. He took a seat on the rough wood and tried to relax.

Yeah. Just relax, Lyte thought, huddling in his raincoat and listening to the wind rustling the leaves and whispering through the grasses. He’d gotten there before her, but that made sense. He’d planned to leave early, to be sure he beat the rain, and then he’d left even earlier due to nerves… Oh, I should let her know.

He pulled out his connection orb and tapped out “made it! c:”, hesitating with his digit over the send button. Even though he’d come all the way out here, he had the urge to leave. What if it goes badly? It didn’t make sense, but then, it never did. If he left it would guarantee it would go badly. Not as badly as it could go, said the little voice in his head.

He closed his eyes. It didn’t count if he couldn’t see it. Just like the shadows under the bed, or the ones behind you as you walked to the bathroom in the middle of the night: if you didn’t look they couldn’t get you. Lyte hit the button.

Now all he had to do was nothing, and Lyte was pretty good at that. All he had to do was stay here, and she’d show up. In theory. Little voice be judged.

He sat there on the table, forcing himself not to check the time. That’d only make it feel longer. Lyte was torn between wanting to watch the park entrance, to see when Zinnia arrived, and looking out across the river, which was a much more interesting view. He turned back and forth for a couple minutes before settling on the river side, watching the ripples and little waves in its choppy surface. She’d text him, right?

When his orb did buzz, he nearly flinched off the table. Heart pounding, Lyte fumbled to pull it out of his pocket. She had, in fact, texted him: “at park”.

The pikachu twisted around to scan his surroundings, latching onto a figure across the park right away. With her hood down, Zinnia’s bright yellow fur stood out at a distance, even with her drab coat covering the rest. If Lyte were being honest, the awkward drape of her coat was pretty distinctive too. Despite standing taller than most pokémon in Halcyon Falls, she’d managed to find a coat that reached all the way to her knees. She could almost have passed it off as a trenchcoat, were it not for the zipper front, wide shoulders, and far too long sleeves.

He waved at her, cheeks sparking as though to say “over here!”

Zinnia saw him and waved back. Maybe it was the only coat with sleeves that would fit her paws, Lyte thought. She turned off the path and headed towards the picnic shelter, dry grass rustling underpaw. “Hey,” she said, as she stepped under its roof. “Hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Not at all! I’ve just been enjoying the, ah, ambiance. I’m not normally outdoors for this kind of weather.”

The zeraora nodded. She padded up to his table and took a seat, swinging her legs over the bench one at a time. It was sized for someone a little smaller, but she fit well enough. She rested her arms on the table, her head an entire Lyte-height above the surface and then some.

Up close, Lyte saw the bandage on her left ear was gone. Underneath, it sported a new notch of missing flesh, the edges faintly pink in the dim light. “How’s your ear?”

“Huh?” Zinnia instinctively tried to look at it, which of course didn’t work at all. “Oh. Better. Still a little tender.”

“Can’t, uh…” Lyte thought back to a conversation he’d had with Weft. What was it…? Oh yeah. Evolution Reactivation Therapy. “Can’t they fix that with ERT these days?”

The zeraora shrugged. “The only insurance I can afford doesn’t cover minor stuff like this,” she said. “Besides, I’ve still got plenty of ear left. You not a fan of scars or something?” She grinned, but Lyte thought it looked a little forced. Maybe it was the light; it was pretty dark under the shelter.

“No, no! They’re cool. It makes you look, uh, fierce.”

“Look fierce? I am fierce.” She held up her paws, claws extended, and growled with bared fangs. “Mrowrr.” Zinnia held her pose for a couple seconds before chuckling and letting her paws drop to the table.

It was more playful than fearsome, but the sound plucked some strings deep in Lyte’s brain. He was glad it was dark here; she probably couldn’t see how furiously he was blushing. He hoped. Oh no, the attack where she steps on you, his brain supplied, which at least made his choke of laughter very genuine. The pikachu prayed to the Three that she didn’t pick up on how easy it was to tease him and tried to change the subject. “So, you come here every thunderstorm?”

“Pretty much.”

“Why here?”

Zinnia shrugged, then hummed in thought. “The buildings are shorter and it’s far from the falls, so it’s better for lightning. But habit, mostly.”

“Probably less people around to complain about the thunder,” Lyte suggested. “Though I guess the whole city will hear it anyway.”

“Mhm.” The zeraora nodded. Lightning flashed in the distance, and her ears twitched at the rumble of thunder that followed. She looked away, out at the rain starting to fall across the park. Droplets plunked against the shelter roof, staccato notes that quickly grew into a constant drumming.

Lyte dug his paws deeper into his pockets and flexed them, trying to warm them up. The air was wet and thick, just shy of clammy. He followed Zinnia’s gaze out into the park, watching the grass rustle and path darken as it was soaked. It wasn’t quite silence, with the rain, but it felt lonely all the same.

The pikachu made another attempt at conversation, raising his voice over the patter on the roof. “So, you been watching any fun shows lately?”

“Nah.” Zinnia kept staring at the rain.

“Books, then?”

“Used to, haven’t had much chance to read lately.”

“What do you do for fun?”

“For fun?” She looked like she hadn’t considered this before. “Fight, I guess.”

“But like, outside of fighting?”

Zinnia glanced at him for a moment and simply shrugged. “Not much time or money for things other than practice and food.” She looked back to the rain.

Why is talking so hard? Surely she does something other than fight. Am I doing a bad job at conversation? Desperate to keep it going, Lyte latched onto her words. “Yeah, money’s tight for me too,” he said. “I’m only managing to save anything because I’m staying somewhere for small pokémon, so rent’s low. Weft can only afford her apartment because she’s got an arrangement with her roommate where they’re doing an income-based split and he has some fake orbmail job.”

“Who?” Zinnia asked.

“Uhh, Puck, I don’t think you know him—”

“Who’s Weft?”

Lyte blinked. “You know Weft. She works at the same place I do? Braixen, piercings, dark pink ear fur…”

“Oh, her.”

Lyte waited, but that was apparently it. Zinnia was looking out at the rain again. Good job, stupid. Nice downer of a topic. He sighed, huddling into his coat. The zeraora seemed distracted, withdrawn. Did I do something wrong?

The rain continued to fall, unabated. It rustled the leaves of the trees down closer to the river, their hanging boughs swaying in the occasional gust. The river itself was even choppier with ripples and splashes from raindrops, completely obscuring any reflection of the other side. It fell and fell; each moment new and different, yet indistinguishable from the rest, like the world was stuck on repeat.

Lyte realized he’d been watching the rain for… a while. It felt like a good ten minutes, but it could have been thirty seconds for all he knew. At least it was a good distraction from thinking about how badly he was messing this up. “You know,” he said, “I haven’t really watched the rain since I was a pichu. I’d forgotten how peaceful it is.”

Zinnia almost flinched at the sound of his voice. She turned and looked down at him, expression hard to see in the dim light. “It is. It’s nice.” The zeraora bit her lip, one fang sticking out. “Uhh… Sorry for being quiet. I’m always alone for this. Not used to having company.” Her muzzle twisted with a wry smile. “Not very good for a date.”

The pikachu shook his head. “No, it was my idea! I still like it. It’s a good way to get away from my thoughts.” Why’d I say that? he wondered. I don’t like it. I could like it, I guess.

“Oh? Well, uh, I’m glad.” Lyte could tell from her arm movements that she was fidgeting with her paws. “I need to keep an eye on the weather.”

“Sure, yeah,” he said. “It’s important!”

He wanted to believe Zinnia looked relieved as she nodded and looked back at the sky. He returned to staring at the river, watching the way it flowed. It was a bit faster now, he thought, starting to swell with rain. A breeze blew through the picnic shelter. Calling it “humid” seemed an understatement with the pouring rain only feet away. What would be really nice, Lyte thought, is if I were sitting on her lap. He couldn’t work up the courage to ask. Maybe that’s too weird. Too forward.

Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, not so far away now; two pairs of ears twitched. Zinnia broke their shared silence, speaking over the constant sound of rain. “Hey. You ever been struck by lightning before? Real lightning, from the sky.”

Lyte had been about to ask if a thunderbolt from another electric-type counted. He shut his mouth and amended his answer. ”…No.”

She hesitated for a second, but continued. “Wanna?”

“Uh. Is it safe?” The pikachu was taken aback. He’d just been expecting to watch.

Zinnia grinned, showing her prominent fangs. “Is anything?”

Lyte had to sit with that. Some things are safe, obviously, he thought. And yet all his pedantry died before reaching his tongue. Going to come all this way just to say no? “Yeah,” he heard himself saying. “I’d love to.”

“Great.” The zeraora stood up and pulled off her jacket, one arm at a time. She tossed it on the table, ruffling Lyte’s fur with a gust of air from the landing. It smelled like her; Lyte tried not to be too obvious about it, but his nose twitched as he drank it in. She stretched, and even in the darkness of the picnic shelter, he could see her toned muscles shift under her shorter black fur. Zinnia gestured to him, still wearing his own coat. “You won’t need that. ”

“Oh. Right. Yeah,” the pikachu said, tearing his eyes away from the big cat. He quickly shucked his raincoat, setting it down next to Zinnia’s. “Uh, how’re we—” He turned back to her to see she had one paw held out, level with the table, offering it for him to step on.

“I’ll hold you,” she said.

Lyte was again thankful for the darkness to hide his flushed cheeks. Not trusting himself to speak, he waddled on his hinds to the edge of the table. She even didn’t grab me. That’s good. (This was unfortunately not as low of a bar as Lyte wished. People tended to disregard your agency when you were under a foot tall.) The pikachu took a deep breath and stepped forward, onto the warmth of Zinnia’s paw. Her wide blue pawpad felt tough underneath him, the texture a little coarse and not fully smooth.

She waited for him to stop moving before she lifted him, gently and slowly. Lyte tried not to stare too much as he rose past her fuzzy abs, past the zigzag blue patch of skin in the center of her chest, and up to where her yellow fur started. He nuzzled into it, thick and fluffy, and took a deep breath of her scent. She didn’t have much of it—actually, he didn’t smell that shampoo he’d smelled before—but it was still nice. There was none of that hint of ozone that electric-types often had, and again Lyte was struck by how her fur had absolutely no static charge to it. Even non-electric types had some static in their fur; in Zinnia’s it was conspicuously absent.

He dug his forepaws into her fur and gripped at it as the zeraora tipped him against herself. She adjusted her paw, shifting it to support him from behind rather than from below. Lyte shivered as her thick digits curled around the top of his head, her thumb-claw gripping at his side, under his foreleg. He squirmed to twist his head to the side, one ear pressed into Zinnia’s fur and the other squished by her paw. He could hear her heartbeat like this, muffled by her fur. So much slower than mine…

“Is this good?” she asked, her voice sounding funny with one of his ears held to her chest.

“Y-Yeah,” Lyte squeaked. “Yeah, this is good.” Held securely by a single paw… it made him feel small, but also just the right size. Forget the lightning, I’d be happy with just this… He relaxed, or tried to, his nerves tense with anxiety and excitement both.

Zinnia strode out into the storm, the rain soaking her fur. Lyte saw her blink sideways, her nictitating membranes sliding over her eyes before she tipped her head back to stare up into the rain.

Wow, she’s like a buizel. Wish mine could do that.

She looked down at him, her eyes slightly hazier behind the extra protective layer. “You ever been flying before?”

“Flying?”

“Yeah. Just wanna make sure you’re not afraid of heights or something.”

Lyte thought back to seeing her hover in vods. “Nah. I’ll be fine with how high you hover.”

“Oh, we’re going a lot higher than that.” Her crooked whiskers twitched. “We gotta go. Remember, I’ve got you.” Zinnia crouched, putting her free paw on the ground. Her tail—Lyte had decided he was going to think of it like a tail, even if it attached between her shoulder blades—stuck out straight behind her, the zigzagged end twitching in anticipation.

“Wait wait, you can fly?”

Zinnia just squeezed him with her paw, holding him tighter.

He felt her charge up, felt the fields shift as she drew power from her core and gathered it in her three free paws, looping endlessly. The patch on her chest glowed cyan in the corner of his eye, bright enough the grass around them cast shadows. The burgeoning electric hum ramped faster and faster, growing so strong he could hear it. Lyte buried his face in her sodden chest fur and closed his eyes.

The zeraora tensed up. The hum surged to a peak. Zinnia leapt, straight up.

Lyte was shoved back against her paw, like a weight was pushing down on all of him at once. Time seemed to slow; her jump dragged on and on. Any moment now, she’d reach the apex, Lyte thought, but it never came. They didn’t come down.

He opened his eyes and squinted through the rain at the clouds and lack of trees (and the soggy yellow fur covering half his vision). He could see much further, across the river, the distant streets hazy with rain. How high are we? It must have been high, he thought, because the wind was much stronger. It buffeted them from one side, then another. Zinnia’s tail leaned against it, crackling as it collided with raindrops, keeping her stable like a rudder. Only now did she start slowing down, Lyte’s stomach lifting like he was on the fastest (and bumpiest) elevator he’d ever ridden.

Once his stomach settled, Lyte twisted his head to look down and immediately wished he hadn’t. The park stretched out beneath them, the picnic shelter smaller than his hindpaw. He hadn’t thought he was afraid of heights. But looking out a window from a skyscraper was nothing compared to being battered by wind and rain with only a single paw keeping him from plummeting to the earth. Panic seized him, fear strangling his scream down to just a squeak.

He’d barely opened his mouth before Zinnia forced him face-first against her chest, muffling his squeak in her sopping yellow fur. Her paw squeezed him tighter, so firm that he couldn’t even move against the digits gripping him. Her pawpad sparked against his back, sending electrical pidgin crackling through his fur. The rudimentary set of signals used for cross-species communication. Safe, it said, repeated again and again.

The pikachu shuddered and clutched at the big cat’s fur, his breathing shaky but slowly steadying. Rain trickled through his fur. Even after the harsh static of fear faded from his thoughts, he kept his eyes closed. For how long, he had no idea—he had given up on tracking time up here. The rain was lukewarm, the wind cold, but Zinnia’s paw protected him from the worst of it all. Wind still whipped at his tail and his exposed eartip, but all the sounds were muffled, and all his other ear could hear was her heartbeat, a constant reassurance.

Eventually he opened his eyes, blinking the rain from them. He looked up at Zinnia; it wasn’t a good angle to see her face, but he caught a glimpse of pure, focused concentration. What’s she waiting for? No, looking for? All he could sense was the zeraora right in front of him, her charge shining like a beacon.

He felt them lurch as Zinnia leaned to the side, zooming after something he couldn’t see or feel. She held her free paw over her head, pad facing up to the sky. Lyte felt a swell of charge—his fur would have stood on end if he weren’t soaked to the skin.

It inverted, all at once. Massively. Like they’d crested a hill to plummet into a bottomless chasm on the other side. Electric-types had thick eyelids—Lyte remembered being confused as a pichu when others said they could see the sun through closed eyes—along with natural reflexes to blink and shut their ears when they felt a massive flux of charge.

They did fuck all.

The world went white anyway, the thunder shaking him to his core. It was so loud Lyte didn’t even hear it, just the silence it left in its wake. The water in his fur vaporized in an instant, the air around him flaring with heat.

And then it was over.

He blinked a few times, barely able to tell the difference with the pulsing afterimage in his eyes. Lyte vaguely saw some sort of incandescent field wrapped around them, its poles centered on Zinnia’s paw above and her footpaws below. The shape of an EM field, his brain helpfully supplied.

His hearing returned as a constant ringing, with some other sounds slowly edging in. The zeraora’s plasma shield lingered a few seconds longer, raindrops hissing into steam as they hit it. It faded as she soaked up its charge, the blue patch on her chest almost blindingly bright. Both of their fur was all fluffed up, he registered, before the rain returned and soaked them again.

It was a bit longer before Lyte registered how exhilarated he was. His heart was pounding, drumming faster than the raindrops on his head. “Holy shit,” he said. He couldn’t hear his own voice over the ringing in his ears and the rain. Zinnia didn’t react at all.

He realized they were descending. This time he didn’t look down, instead nuzzling against Zinnia’s chest fur the whole time. He kept at it until they slowed and touched down with a soft thump.

As soon as she landed, the zeraora practically lunged for the shelter, hustling somewhere between a walk and a jog. Lyte idly wondered if she could truly sprint on two legs. He’d seen her run on all fours, but it wasn’t like that made two-legged sprinting not count. Once under the roof, the big paw holding him pulled him away from its owner and his musings. Zinnia hurriedly set him down on the table.

Lyte took a moment to get his bearings. A long shadow stretched out in front of him, the shelter lit with bright cyan. When he turned around, the zeraora was half-crouched, leaning over him with concern. Her blue zigzag whiskers and mane horn were glowing, but not as bright as her chest patch, which was nearly blinding. The pikachu squinted and held up a paw to shield his eyes from it; his vision was still blotted with afterimages from the lightning.

“Are you okay?” Zinnia asked. “I’m sorry, I should have explained better that’d we’d be flying! I didn’t mean to scare you like that. Sorry, sorry, I—”

“I’m fine! I’m fine,” Lyte said. He had to talk over her to even get a word in. The big cat paused to listen, so he pressed on. “I didn’t even know I had a fear of heights. Not even sure I do. I might’ve just been caught off guard when I looked down.”

That was the wrong thing to say, he realized, as Zinnia nodded vigorously in agreement. “Exactly! If you’d known what to expect—”

“It’s okay!” The pikachu held out his paws. “It was super fucking cool. I’d love to do it again sometime.”

The zeraora blinked, her thoughts derailed just as she’d opened her mouth to speak. She shut it and thought for a bit. “Really?”

“Yeah! I mean it was scary but it was so worth it!” He gave her his best reassuring smile. “You said it yourself. Is anything safe, really?”

Zinnia let out a awkward chuckle and scratched behind her head. “Fair, fair…”

By now, Lyte’s eyes had adjusted enough to see a little more than just her blue whiskers and horn. She looked funny, bedraggled and soaked; he knew he looked similar, but her yellow fur was normally a lot fluffier than his. Now it was all slicked down, leaving nothing to the imagination. Or at least it wouldn’t if he could actually see properly; between the darkness and the throbbing spots in his eyes, all he could tell was that she was ripped, and he knew that already. He eyed her legs, where her wet fur revealed that between muscle and fluff, her thighs were mostly the former.

He had to look away when she dried herself, her fur crackling and popping with bright sparks, the water hissing off of her as steam. The pikachu took the opportunity to do the same, closing his eyes and shorting his charge through his own fur. He made a humming chuu as he dried himself, his short fur poofing up as much as it was able.

When he opened his eyes, Zinnia had moved over to the bench and taken a seat. He turned back to her, only to find her dazzling chest patch practically at eye level. Lyte flinched away, holding up both paws to shield his eyes. “Ack!”

“So what did you think?” Zinnia noticed his reaction and shifted one paw in front of herself to cover her chest, dimming the shelter like she’d turned off a light. “Sorry.”

Lyte sighed with relief as she covered the bright spot. “About getting hit by lightning? It was incredible! My ears are still ringing, and I’m still seeing spots, but it was amazing!”

Her worried look faded, a soft smile spreading over Zinnia’s muzzle in its place. “There’s really nothing like it,” she said. “It’s my favorite thing in the world.”

He eyed her whiskers, her bright blue horn, and the glow of her chest leaking out around the edges of her paw. All shining with the charge she’d absorbed from the bolt. “I bet. I wasn’t even soaking it up. What does that feel like?”

“It’s like—” The zeraora looked off into space, motioning with her other paw as she tried to put it into words. In the darkness of the shelter, her lambent pawpad left pulsing red trails in Lyte’s vision. “How do I even… It feels like it lasts forever and no time at all. For that split second, everything else disappears. There’s no me, no Zinnia, just pure energy, like being one with the universe. It feels like I can do anything.”

“That’s amazing. You’re amazing,” Lyte said. He looked up at her with eyes full of adoration and admiration. “Man… you can actually fly.” Something nagged at him. “Why do you stay here?”

“In Halcyon? I’ve thought about it, trust me, but…” Zinnia shrugged helplessly. “Reality always comes crashing back in. Where would I go? I couldn’t bring my things, if I used up all my charge I couldn’t fly back. I’ve got something here, even if it’s not great.”

The pikachu sighed. “So you’re stuck too.” He stomped one paw on the table. “I want to get out so bad. I really wanted to go to Paragon, but I never got in. Not for lack of trying.”

The zeraora winced at the mention of their country’s premier explorer academy. “I… actually did get in,” she said, her voice growing soft. “But I couldn’t afford to go.”

“What!? But—there’s supposed to be programs for that! That’s not supposed to be an issue!”

“Ones I didn’t qualify for, because my mother made too much money,” Zinnia said, bitterness creeping into her voice. “She refused to pay for it. She didn’t want me to go.”

“Are you serious?” The pikachu clenched his paws into fists, his cheeks sparking. “That’s—That’s such fucking—”

“Yeah. She didn’t want me to apply, of course, but I hoped she might change her mind if I got in.” The big cat tensed, claws pressing against the table, before she sighed and relaxed. “Anyway, I don’t talk to her anymore.” She shrugged. “It is what it is…”

They both fell quiet, the sound of rain filling in the gloomy silence. Thunder rumbled, and Zinnia glanced over her shoulder at the storm outside. “Are you fine chilling here? I have to go catch some more bolts.”

“Wha—you need more?” Lyte asked.

“Yeah. I can only absorb a fraction of the energy in each one,” Zinnia explained. “They only last a moment, and I can only buffer so much.”

“Oh.” That makes sense. That’s how his cheek pouches worked, but in reverse. “Yeah, I’ll be fine…” He sighed. I guess she doesn’t want me along.

“I’ll be quick. Only a few minutes, then we can go get curry.” She paused. “Do you like curry? And spicy stuff? I meant to text you but I, uh, I forgot. There’s a place around here I go to when I want to treat myself. Little hole in the wall place, doesn’t look like much, but the food is the best.”

Lyte started nodding midway through her rush of words, trying to reassure her. “I love spicy food and curry,” he said, as soon as he could. “Places like that are always the best. Hidden gems.” Fighting his own nerves, he tapped his forepaws together. “Can I fly with you again?”

The big cat hesitated, whiskers twitching. “I’d feel better if you stayed,” she said. “I’ll bring you along longer next time! How’s that?” She held out a paw by his head, its blue-white light giving his fur a faint lime tint, like a fluorescent highlighter.

Lyte leaned into the offered paw, letting her rub behind his ear. “Okay… next time…” Were there ever two words more beautiful? He didn’t think so. The idea of a next time was plenty to turn his mood around. It brought a giddy little smile to the pikachu’s face, and the strokes to his ear coaxed out a soft chu.

He could have sat there forever, but the zeraora had a storm to harness. “Be right back,” she said, pulling away and standing up. Zinnia stepped to face the rain and crouched down low, tail raised above the table.

The pikachu stepped to the edge of the table to watch. He expected her to crouch and charge up again, but she took off running on all fours. Raindrops sizzled and popped as they hit her fluffed up fur.

Her front paws hit the ground, then her rear paws. A surge of electricity made him blink, and she was gone, leaving a streak pulsing across his field of view. A gust of ozone-tinged wind blasted through the picnic shelter, nearly bowling Lyte over.

Three above! She wasn’t that fast the first time, was she? Was she holding back for me? He scrambled down to the ground and over to the shelter’s edge to look up at the sky past the roof, watching the brilliant blue speck darting across the sky. Our Lady in Blue and Silver… is this what she can do when she’s not budgeting her charge?

The breeze made him shiver. Lyte tore his eyes away from the distant zeraora and turned back, hopping onto the table to grab his coat. Except it wasn’t there. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, just in case it made his coat reappear. (It didn’t.) It was right there next to hers just a second ago. The pikachu looked around. His coat had his orb in it, he needed that—

His heart sank. Past the opposite end of the shelter, there was a spot of bright yellow in the grass. “Fuck.” Lyte scampered over, ignoring the protests from his weak leg. Yep, that was his coat, and it was already soaked. Must’ve caught the wind from her takeoff…

That put a damper on things. Lyte bundled it up and waddled back to the table with Zinnia’s stuff. He spread it over the bench, letting it drape off and drip onto the ground. Maybe it’ll be dry enough to wear when she gets back, he thought, but he knew in his heart it wouldn’t. He could dry himself, but his jacket couldn’t handle that.

Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled while the pikachu shivered and hugged himself to try and keep warm. This sucks. He hopped back up onto the bench and table, where Zinnia’s coat still lay across the wood. It gave him an idea. She wouldn’t mind, would she?

He scurried over to it and burrowed in, wrapping himself in the smooth gray fabric. Cold at first, but it trapped his warmth and kept the wind out. And it smelled like Zinnia, which helped cheer him up. He huddled there, curled up tight for warmth. As the minutes passed, he relaxed, listening to the thunder and stretching out in his cozy makeshift nest. His coat was a problem for future Lyte; right now, surrounded in her scent, he imagined she was holding him again, snuggling him to keep him warm…

“Lyte?”

The pikachu flinched out of his daydreams. “I’m here!” he called, squirming around underneath the tangle of coat. He poked his head out of the front, back into the cold, and instinctively pulled both zipper sides around himself to keep the warmth in. Oh no. Caught.

Zinnia looked down at him and tilted her head. She raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking with amusement. Her fur was still crackling and sizzling, steam drifting off of her as she dried herself. “You look cozy.”

“I can explain! You see, uh…” Lyte struggled to put words in order for a couple seconds. He knew it was reasonable, but his nerves were still getting the better of him. He took a deep breath. “The wind from your takeoff blew my coat away, I think, and now it’s all soaked so I borrowed yours to keep warm I hope that’s okay.” His ears folded out to the sides and he shrank into her coat, some instinct telling him to make himself small.

The kitty let out a little snort of laughter, which faded as soon as she leaned over to see Lyte’s raincoat dripping water into a puddle under the bench. “Oh, shit. Yeah, of course it’s okay,” she said. “Sorry.”

The pikachu’s ears lifted halfway. “It is what it is,” he said, repeating her words from earlier. “Do you, um, do you still want to get curry? It’s close, right? And warm there?”

Zinnia stood there awkwardly. Her fur was dry now, all fluffed up, which made her look silly in the other direction from when she was soaking wet and bedraggled. She looked at him thoughtfully. “Actually,” she said. “You look so cu—so comfy there, it gives me an idea. Want to ride in my coat on the way over?”

“What? Like in your hood?”

She leaned over and reached out a paw to Lyte’s right, patting at her coat. “This is the left side, right? My left? There’s an inner chest pocket here that’s pretty big. Maybe you can fit in it?”

To be that close to her… The pikachu’s ears twitched. “I-If that’s okay with you,” he said, internally cursing the way he’d stammered. Be normal, damn it!

The zeraora just chuckled. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” She waved a glowing paw. “It’s my fault your coat got wet in the first place, so the least I can do is keep you from getting all soggy.”

“Right,” Lyte said, half trying to convince himself. “Yeah.” He wanted to. Why did he feel so anxious about it? What could go wrong? If she’s not into me as much as I’m into her…

“It’ll be just like when we were flying,” Zinnia said. “Except without the rain, and I won’t be squishing you with my paw, so it’ll be more comfortable.”

“Your paw was nice,” Lyte said, the words leaving his mouth before he realized what he was saying. His eyes widened. “Uh—I mean, it was reassuring! Felt very safe.” Three save me from myself…

She laughed that time and reached out said paw, touching it lightly to the size of his head. “I’m glad you think so,” she said, softly stroking at the pikachu’s head fur after he leaned into it.

Lyte was a mess. Down bad… and the strokes of her digits were so nice on the back of his ear. At least his blush barely showed up in the cold blue light from her pawpad. He sighed when she stopped and just sat there, in a happy daze.

“You should see if you fit,” she suggested.

“Oh, yeah.” The pikachu shook himself, then ducked into Zinnia’s raincoat. He felt around for the pocket, paws sliding over the cool, smooth fabric. It was easy enough to find, and the opening felt big enough; it was a really big coat. He didn’t want to dive in headfirst, in case it was too tight to turn around, so he went for the more cumbersome foot-first entrance. Lyte squirmed to get his hindpaws up to it and wriggled his way inside, twisting left and right to work his way deeper. It was just big enough to fit him, comfortably snug without being too tight. His ears poked out of the top even after he got most of his head inside. “Yeah, I fit great,” he called out.

“I’m going to pick up my coat,” Zinnia said. “Okay?”

“Okay!” She’s so on point with these things, Lyte thought. Really paying attention. I wonder if she has other friends my size. Or maybe everyone seems small to her…

His whole world tipped to the side, going from lying to sitting, as the zeraora lifted her coat with him inside. Cold air hit his ears, and he poked his head out to see her looking at him. “Comfy?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He looked into her eyes, so close he could only look at one at once: her blue eye on his right, her yellow-green one on his left. “I’m ready; you can put me on. I mean, put your coat on.” He slouched back into the pocket as she chuckled, embarrassed and glad she couldn’t see his expression in here.

Lyte felt himself spin around. He peeked out again, getting a slightly dizzying view of Zinnia’s back and side as she put her arm through the right sleeve. The cut looked so odd on her; it was definitely made for a pokémon even bigger than she was. His side was next, and after she pulled the coat over her left arm, he came to rest right against her chest again. Just like when they were flying.

The sound of the coat being zipped up was loud to him, though it stopped just below where he was. He looked around, then up, seeing Zinnia looking down at him, just barely able to see him with her head tipped down as far as it could go. “Want me to leave it open for you?” Zinnia asked, voice slightly strained from her squished neck position.

The pikachu considered this for a moment and shook his head. “Nah. Let’s keep the rain and cold out. Just don’t squish me.”

She hummed an affirmative and zipped up her coat the rest of the way, sealing Lyte into a warm, comfortable semi-darkness. It put a little pressure on him, squeezing him against her body like a gentle hug. It only wasn’t completely dark because of the brilliance of her chest patch, but its light was mostly hidden by her floofy yellow fur in the way. With its glow muted, he noticed for the first time that it wasn’t a steady light, but pulsed with some steady, unknown rhythm.

Lyte shuffled around to get comfortable, leaning against Zinnia’s warm chest fur. He pressed his ear to her again, and the glow suddenly made sense. It pulses in time with her heartbeat. The pikachu smiled and relaxed. Sharing her pocket with some shed fur and lint was way more comfortable than it had any right to be. It was snug, warm, dry, and the air here all smelled like her too. Like big zappy kitty. He took deep, slow breaths, trying to commit it to memory.

He felt her start walking, and heard the rain patter against her coat. It was so close, so loud; Lyte’s apartment was on the ground floor, so he hadn’t heard rain on the roof in years. Almost none of it hit the coat where he was; probably because of her slightly hunched posture, he imagined. Her body was shielding him from the rain, and he was hearing it drumming on her back.

“This is so nice,” he said, unsure if Zinnia could even hear him. “Thanks, Zinnia…”

Apparently she could, because he felt her pet at him through her raincoat, gently squeezing the lump he made. Lyte practically melted, going limp in her pocket. He let out a soft, long chu. This was perfect; a better date than he could have ever imagined, and it wasn’t even over. He closed his eyes and snuggled up. Before he even realized it was happening, the rock of her walk and the sound of rain had lulled him to sleep, snoring soft chus in her pocket.