The passengers still surrounding Aaron showed no sign of backing off. Some were offering business cards, others were trying to shake his hand, and several were talking over one another in an effort to make sure he remembered them.
Fortunately, Major Grant arrived with airport staff and a small security detail before the crowd could close in any further.
"Everyone, please give him some space," one of the officers called out. "Passengers from Flight 608, follow the airport staff to the designated rest area."
The airport director wiped the sweat from his forehead and stepped forward. "We apologize for everything you've been through. Medical personnel will be available shortly to check everyone over, so please follow the staff and get some rest."
Most of the passengers clearly wanted to stay and keep talking to Aaron, but after some reluctant glances in his direction, they finally began moving away.
"Wait! Aaron!"
A woman's voice suddenly rose from the dispersing crowd.
Aaron turned and saw a curvy woman in a low-cut top making her way toward him, only for one of the officers to step into her path.
She stopped short and glared at him. "Don't block me. I know Aaron."
The officer glanced back for confirmation.
Major Grant followed his gaze, then looked from the woman to Aaron. A grin slowly spread across his face.
"Well, well. Didn't know this was your type."
Aaron immediately knew where this was going.
Grant chuckled. "Careful, kid. Those things look dangerous."
Aaron shot him a flat look. "You're enjoying this way too much."
Then he turned back to the woman.
"Sorry, do I know you?"
Her expression faltered for a second. She quickly pulled out the mask she had been wearing during the flight and held it up.
"It's me. I was sitting beside you on the plane."
Aaron recognized her immediately.
His voice cooled.
"Right. What do you want?"
"I just wanted to thank you properly." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave him a deliberately sweet smile. "You saved my life, after all. Maybe we could exchange contact information? I'd love to take you out to dinner sometime."
Aaron stared at her for a moment.
"Sorry. I don't give my contact info to strangers."
Her smile stiffened.
"And my mom told me to come home for dinner," he added. "So I'm busy."
Major Grant coughed into his fist to hide a laugh.
Aaron had not forgotten what happened on the plane. She had been sitting beside him when the argument with the elderly couple began and had known perfectly well who started it. Yet she had watched silently while everyone piled onto him, apparently more interested in the drama than the truth.
Now that she knew who he was, suddenly she wanted dinner.
He had no interest.
Aaron gave the officer a small gesture.
The man understood immediately. "Ma'am, please rejoin the other passengers."
"But I—"
"This way, please."
She tried to protest, but there was no longer any reason for her to remain. The officer firmly guided her back toward the rest of the passengers.
Once she was far enough away, her embarrassment curdled into anger.
"Whatever. Who does he think he is?"
She glanced back over her shoulder.
"If he wasn't some powerful Trainer, I wouldn't have bothered in the first place."
Then something she had heard finally registered.
Her steps slowed.
"Wait... did he call him Commander Aaron?"
She turned around.
Major Grant and the others had gathered around Aaron, and the way they addressed him made it obvious she had not misheard.
Her face went blank.
"He's a commander too?"
For several seconds, she simply stood there staring.
The regret from earlier came rushing back twice as hard.
She had spent the entire flight sitting beside someone young, talented, powerful, and apparently important enough to hold an official title—and she had managed to make the worst possible impression before even learning his name.
The woman clenched her fists.
"I really blew it..."
...
Back near the runway, Major Grant gave Aaron a formal salute.
"Commander Aaron, on behalf of everyone involved, thank you for saving Flight 608."
Aaron rolled his eyes.
"Major Grant, knock it off."
Grant lowered his hand, already smiling.
"I'm serious."
"You can be serious without calling me Commander every five seconds. I'm eighteen. You're making me sound forty."
That finally broke Grant's composure.
"Hahaha! Fine, fine."
His gaze drifted toward the Poké Balls at Aaron's waist, and his expression shifted from amusement to genuine curiosity.
"But you really have gotten ridiculous since the last time I saw you. That Gyarados of yours barely looked like the same species, and Charizard..."
He shook his head.
"I don't even know where to start with that one."
Aaron smiled but said nothing.
Grant leaned closer.
"Was that your ability again? Some kind of Ancestral Awakening?"
That explanation was not entirely accurate, but Aaron had no intention of correcting him.
If people wanted to connect every strange transformation his Pokémon underwent to the ability they already knew he possessed, that saved him a great deal of trouble.
Grant whistled softly.
"Your generation is screwed."
Aaron raised an eyebrow.
"My generation?"
"Imagine having to compete with you."
Aaron considered that for a moment.
"Major Grant, you know being older doesn't actually protect you from losing to me, right?"
Grant's smile froze.
Aaron continued in the same perfectly serious tone.
"If anything, wouldn't getting surpassed by someone younger make it worse?"
There was a brief silence.
Grant stared at him.
"You really know how to ruin a compliment."
Aaron grinned.
"Just making sure we're clear."
"Smartass."
Grant shook his head, then motioned toward the vehicles waiting farther down the tarmac.
"Come with me to the Sealine Military Base. There's something there you'll want to see."
Aaron immediately became suspicious.
"What?"
"You'll find out when we get there."
"That sounds exactly like something you say before dumping a problem on me."
Grant's grin returned.
"Funny how well you know me."
Aaron stared at him.
"Major Grant..."
"Come on. Your timing is actually perfect."
Aaron looked at that suspiciously cheerful expression and felt his instincts warning him that this trip was about to become work.
Again.
"Can't I just go home for dinner?"
Grant laughed and started walking.
"Nope."
Aaron: "..."
...