senirasushipping — because a little daydreaming never hurt anyone
***
Okay. I can handle this. All I have to do is focus.
It's only a suitcase. One tiny little suitcase. At least, that's what I tell myself as I summon every last ounce of my strength just to lift it off the ground. My arms are aching already.
Unbelievable. I mean, how much can a few clothes weigh?
It's not even like I brought that much stuff. One outfit for every day of the retreat. That's all.
And a pair of shoes to go with each of them. And a purse to go with each pair of shoes. Just the bare essentials. Nothing more.
Plus a whole pile of my favorite skirts. I had more than enough extra space, so I figured, why not? Which meant I had to pack more tops, because there's no point in having all those skirts if I have nothing to wear them with, is there?
Then I remembered the hotel pool, so I threw in a bikini or two. Or six, to be exact. And that gorgeous turquoise beach towel I bought at the Veilstone Department Store and never got a chance to use.
When are we going to have that beach party, anyway? I keep telling Volkner to make it happen—he's the one with the house on the beach—and so far all he's done is shrug those perfectly sculpted shoulders of his and tell me maybe later. When he's not so busy with the gym. He's been "busy with the gym" for over a year now.
Speaking of shoulders, I think I might have just sprained one. This suitcase is going to be the death of me.
No, seriously. It must weigh about a thousand pounds. I knew I should've bought the more practical one with the wheels. But this one had the cutest pattern—how could I resist?
It was no question, really. And now I'm faced with the impossible task of somehow transporting my stylish new bag through the largest hotel lobby I've ever seen.
I stop for a minute and take in my surroundings. It's got sleek marble columns. Sparkling crystal chandeliers. And that guy over there with the bodyguard—isn't he a famous actor? I swear I've seen him in something.
Really, this place is amazing. I've never been anywhere like it. It's classic but modern. Elegant but understated. And, I lament to myself as I abandon the idea of actually carrying my suitcase and resort to dragging it along the immaculate white tiles, way too big for its own good.
In a perfect world, I'd reach into the front pocket where my Poké Balls are packed and ask my Mamoswine to give me a hand. That's what I was planning on. But it turns out our hotel isn't exactly Pokémon-friendly. The sign's right there for everyone to see: No Pokémon Permitted in Building.
Crazy, isn't it? I mean, who doesn't like having Pokémon around? But I can understand the logic behind their rules. It'd be tough to maintain a five-star hotel with Tauros charging down the hallways and Trubbish mucking up the furniture.
So here I am, practically on the verge of collapse, without a single Pokémon to help me. It's not exactly how I envisioned the first moments of our retreat.
My best friend Maylene seems to think this is funny. "Hey, Candice," she teases me. "You think you brought enough clothes?"
Maylene's suitcase isn't even one-third the size of mine. In fact, most of the other leaders have nothing but overnight bags. If I'm being honest, I look a bit ridiculous in comparison. But how was I supposed to know they'd all be such light packers? My philosophy is, if you can manage to cram half your wardrobe into your luggage, you might as well go for it. Then you've got options. You never know what you'll feel like wearing, after all.
Of course, I didn't realize I'd be carrying half my wardrobe all by myself. Whatever happened to those cute guys they hire to help you with your stuff?
I guess they're all busy. It is prime vacation season at the most popular hotel in Unova. When I volunteered to organize the Sinnoh League's annual retreat, nobody warned me that I was going to be dealing with one of the biggest travel weekends of the year. I'm lucky I got the booking in the first place.
Maylene's not the only one in on the joke. My other best friend, Gardenia, gapes at my overstuffed bag like she's expecting it to explode all over the lobby any second now. "I think Candice brought enough clothes for all of us."
She's not even holding her suitcase. Her boyfriend Roark's taking care of it. I have to admit, I'm a little jealous.
"Yeah," he joins in. "If you like miniskirts and girly socks."
Not jealous because of Roark, I mean. Jealous because they're so perfect together that it almost makes me want to run straight to my hotel room and cry into my pillow about how I'll probably never land such a devoted boyfriend for myself. Almost.
Not to mention the fact that she doesn't have to carry a darned thing.
"Oh, come on, guys." I laugh halfheartedly, breathless as I struggle to keep up. "You know me."
All right, already. I get it. So I may have overpacked just a little. I don't see why it's such a big deal. Byron's got a shovel, for Arceus' sake. Is he seriously planning to go digging for fossils this weekend?
Actually, yeah. Knowing him, I bet he is.
Anyway. Fantina's suitcase is almost as big as mine. No one's saying anything about that. Except Fantina wears these outrageous floor-length ball gowns with ultra-poufy skirts that probably take up half a suitcase on their own.
I don't have that excuse. You could probably fit five of my skirts into a handbag. But still.
Enough is enough. I can't do this anymore. My whole body hurts. I'll be so exhausted, I won't have the energy to move. I'll wind up spending the entire weekend in the hotel spa, getting massage after massage to undo all the damage I've done to myself with my thousand-pound bag.
...Which doesn't sound half bad, really. But I've got plans for this retreat. Spa days are kind of not on the agenda.
I let my suitcase fall to the ground and look around helplessly. "Can somebody give me a hand with this? Pretty please?"
"Sure can," says Maylene, grabbing it by the handle. Then she takes one look at it and swings the whole thing over her shoulder like it's nothing more than a shopping bag.
Wow. I'm impressed. Even Crasher Wake, the five-time Sinnoh wrestling champion, seems impressed. Where'd she learn to do that? All that training with Lucario must be paying off big time.
"Thanks, Maylene." I put on a grateful smile, but secretly, I'm a little disappointed. That wasn't quite who I had in mind.
Volkner didn't even notice me. Not that he ever does.
If it sounds like I'm exaggerating, I'm not. He hasn't looked my way once since we got here. Last time I checked, he was still talking to Byron. They've been talking battle tactics for the past half hour. Honestly. How much is there to say about entry hazards?
Well, a lot, now that I think about it. But that's not the point.
***
Finally. Now's my chance. As we join the line at the check-in desk, I make my way to the front of our group and just so coincidentally happen to stand right next to Volkner. At least, that's what I hope it looks like.
It's exactly what I'm supposed to be doing. I'm the one who made our reservation, after all. So, if anyone asks, I'm only up here to make sure things go smoothly once we get called to the counter. Not because I'm dying to say hi to him or anything.
"Candice. Hey."
There are no words for the way I feel when I hear that voice. Maybe this isn't the perfect moment I was aiming for. My skirt's all rumpled from lugging my massive bag around, and I'm still breathing a little hard. But after all this time without so much as a glance from Volkner, I'll take what I can get.
I turn to him with my most dazzling smile—not that I could suppress it even if I tried. "Hey yourself."
"You sure got rid of that suitcase fast." He nods in Maylene's direction. "You do know we're not moving here for good, don't you?"
"Of course I do." I giggle. "I'm in charge, remember?"
I know. I know. This is just the kind of teasing I was complaining about. But when Volkner does it, it's different. You could almost say he's flirting with me.
You could also say he's making fun of me. But I like the first idea better.
"So what can I look forward to this weekend?" he asks me. "Fashion shows? Two thumbs down Pokéstar Studios chick flicks?" Then the smirk on his face gives way to a genuine smile. "Maybe even a battle or two?"
"Whatever you want." The words barely register with me as they slip out. He's already got me on cloud nine, idly twisting a ponytail around my finger as I gaze upward into impossibly blue eyes.
It's been like this since day one. Somehow, I can never seem to focus when Volkner's around.
Wait a sec. Did I really just say that?
"I mean, I'm not going to tell you how to spend your retreat." I revert to the most neutral, matter-of-fact, so-not-coming-on-to-him voice I can manage. "I thought we could all just kind of do our own thing, you know?"
That's the only way to do it. Last year, when Fantina was in charge, she took us all to Lilycove to watch the Master Rank Contests. (Fantina's a contest fanatic. Of course she would.) We had fun, but it was pretty clear that not everyone wanted to be there. Especially after Volkner and Flint skipped the final rounds on account of so-called food poisoning. Then Lucian saw them sneaking back to their rooms that night with armfuls of prizes from the Battle Tower.
Anyway. That won't be happening this time around. Now that it's my turn to run the show, I've arrived with a plan that all the leaders will love—no plan whatsoever. I got eight tickets to Nimbasa, booked a hotel, and the rest is up to them.
Volkner flashes me a rare grin. "I like your style."
"I thought you would." I beam back at him. "But hey, if it's battles you're after, the Battle Subway's supposed to be awesome."
"I know."
"And you know about the different trains, right?" I can't resist asking. This is the opportunity I've been waiting for. "Single Battle and Double Battle. And then there's Multi Battle," I add hopefully, giving Volkner a meaningful look. "You're going to need a partner for that one."
"Yeah." He frowns. "Too bad Flint's stuck at the League."
The words hit me like a Hyper Beam. That was not who I meant.
"Wasn't my idea." I shrug, but I can't shake off the hurt I feel. What about me? Does he think I'm not good enough for him?
Okay, so maybe I can't measure up to his usual partner in crime. And there's no denying that Volkner can beat me in a Pokémon battle any day of the week. But it's not like I can't hold my own with him—at least, until that Electivire of his comes out to play and it's game over.
But still. I wouldn't be battling against Volkner. We'd be on the same team. So he doesn't have to be such a jerk about it.
"Cynthia insisted on it." I'm making every effort to sound like I'm not upset in the slightest—so far, so good. "I tried to get her to see it my way, but you know how she is."
Which isn't exactly the truth. I agreed with Cynthia without a second thought. She had this idea that instead of going on one big Pokémon League retreat like we usually do, the Gym Leaders and Elite Four should go separately for a change. Because after what happened with Team Galactic not too long ago, it'd be downright irresponsible for all of Sinnoh's top trainers to go on holiday at the same time. It hasn't been the most popular decision, but I think it makes a lot of sense. You can't be too careful these days, you know?
Okay, fine. The real reason is, this whole separate retreats thing really works in my favor. If Volkner had his BFF Flint to hang with, I doubt he'd even be talking to me right now.
"Forget about it. You tried." He leans back against a pillar, nonchalant as ever. "So, Candice. Think you can keep up with me?"
Keep up with me? Does that mean what I think it means?
"Is that a challenge?"
"It's a challenge, all right." Volkner stares me down in mock arrogance, daring me to back out now. "I'm warning you—the Subway's not going to be easy."
"And I wouldn't want it any other way. You're on!"
As we shake on it, I can't help but reminisce at the feeling of my hand in his. It takes me back to our very first match.
I remember it like it was yesterday. I'd only just met Volkner and the other leaders, and I was dying to see what all the hype was about. He couldn't be that good, I thought.
Well, he was that good. It's true what they say—you don't even know Volkner till you've seen him in battle. He has this attitude about him a lot of the time, like he's completely and utterly bored by, well, life. But the moment that Poké Ball leaves his hand, he's a different person. And before you can so much as blink, he's throwing everything he's got at you and you're pulling out all the stops just to stay in the game. I didn't stand a chance.
And when it was all over—when he shook my hand and those electric blue eyes met mine and I almost forgot to let go—that was when I knew. I was falling for Volkner. Hard.
That was a long time ago. Several more battles and dozens of unsuccessful flirting attempts later, I've fallen farther than I ever thought possible, and absolutely nothing has come of it.
Well, maybe not nothing. We're friends. That has to count for something.
But only in the same way that pretty much all of us in the League are friends—those of us under the age of thirty, anyway. We hang out. Have dinner. See movies. Throw parties. But I can never get him alone, and Volkner's hardly the type to care about broadening his social circle. He's always off complaining to Flint about pointless League policies or mediocre challengers jamming up his gym schedule, never giving me the time of day.
Which is exactly why this retreat is so important. Flint's not going to get in my way now.
It's everything I've ever wished for. Me and Volkner and no one else, side by side as we conquer whatever the Multi Train throws at us. I'll battle the best I ever have, and we'll go further than any trainers have gone before. And when the Subway Bosses fall to our unstoppable combination of lightning and ice, we'll run into each other's arms, dizzy with excitement as we celebrate our record-breaking victory.
"Candice, you're amazing," he'll tell me, emotion pouring out of every word as he holds me tightly.
"Oh, stop it, Volkner," I'll say, laughing softly as I lean into his embrace. "Not half as amazing as you."
"Candice."
"Yes, Volkner?"
I'm still lost in daydreams of whispered compliments and triumphant smiles when his voice brings me back to earth. But it's nothing like I imagined just now—sharp and impatient and not the least bit impressed.
He points at one very frustrated hotel clerk, calling us up to the front desk for what doesn't sound like the first time. Or the second time. Or even the third time.
"You gonna check us in or what?"
***
Up next: Volkner shows up outside Candice's hotel room. And you'll never guess what he wants...