Unlike the trendy food streets Nova had known in his previous life, this one in Harmony City was the real deal — simple, unpretentious, and genuinely good.
Nova had picked out a few things more or less at random, and every single one of them had been worth eating.
Aresdra, on the other hand, had barely touched her food. The viewers watching Jacinth's stream had taken that quietness for coldness — aloofness, maybe — but Nova knew better than that.
By the time Nova had nearly finished eating, he set aside two hundred Alliance Coins and pushed them across the table to Jacinth before she could protest.
They had only sat down because they needed somewhere to eat. Taking up a seat at a travel blogger's table for free was one thing, but walking away without paying anything at all was another. Jacinth had done them a favour, and leaving a little extra was the least Nova could do.
After a brief goodbye, the three of them went their separate ways — strangers again, as quickly as they had briefly been something else.
Nova and Aresdra walked back toward the Academy. They had been going for a few minutes when Nova, who had been quietly watching her from the corner of his eye, finally said what was on his mind.
"Why are you in a bad mood all of a sudden?"
Aresdra kept walking. "I'm not. I'm perfectly fine."
"They say the prettier the girl, the better she is at hiding things." Nova glanced at her sideways. "Somehow that rule skipped you entirely. It's written all over your face."
"It is not—"
Aresdra stopped herself.
Nova waited. "It is not what?"
A short silence.
"Nova," she said quietly. "Why do people want to go to the Western Plateau? It's dangerous. You can lose your life there just like that. So why do so many people keep dreaming about it?"
Nova understood immediately.
Her parents had disappeared on that plateau — a place the Alliance had long deemed too hostile for most humans. They had never come back. The confirmation of their deaths had come later, in the cold, formal language that official notices always used.
And just now, Jacinth had talked about the Western Plateau with bright eyes and a wide smile, like it was the most exciting destination she could imagine. That had caught on something Aresdra had spent a long time keeping carefully out of reach.
Nova could not answer her question the way she had asked it. Instead, something from his past life came to mind — words from a speech he had heard once, from a man standing in front of a crowd.
"Because it's not easy," he said. "They go precisely because it's so hard."
"Even if it costs them their lives?"
"Yes."
Aresdra was quiet for a moment. "Even if it means leaving someone behind? Someone who needed them?"
Nova stopped walking.
"Aresdra. One day, I'm going to that plateau too."
She turned to look at him, and for a second her expression was entirely unguarded. Then it closed again, quickly. "And what for? Don't tell me it's some grand dream of yours."
"It's not for a dream." Nova looked at her steadily. "It's for you."
"For... me?"
"To try to find your parents. I know the odds aren't good. I know that. But I still have to try." He paused. "And even if I don't find them — if I go there and I come back safely, then at least that place won't feel the same to you anymore. At least when someone brings it up, you won't have to carry it the way you do now."
Aresdra's voice dropped. "But what if you don't come back? What happens then? I'd be alone again."
"Then we go together." Nova said it simply, like it was obvious. "Whatever happens, at least neither of us goes through it alone."
Aresdra stared at him.
"Nova," she said flatly, "you are not just a little slow sometimes. You are actually out of your mind."
"Think about it, though." Nova's tone was easy, almost cheerful. "Going to the most dangerous place in the world together, watching each other's backs the whole way — isn't that a little romantic?"
That did it. Aresdra's frustration cracked into reluctant laughter despite herself, and she turned away so he would not see it.
"Romantic? Not even close." She crossed her arms. "If you go, you go by yourself. And if you don't come back, I'll just move on, and you'll have no one to blame but yourself."
Nova felt quietly pleased. Ten sentences, give or take, and a gloomy girl was laughing. He filed that away.
Aresdra was in better spirits by the time they reached the Academy, though the price of it was that she now looked like a Jigglypuff puffed up with irritation — round-cheeked and visibly trying to stay annoyed.
At the Academy, Aresdra went ahead to the principal's office to apply for leave while Nova, with nothing else to do, drifted around the campus.
It had to be said — the school was impressive. The Norlandia League had clearly put real money into it. The facilities were well-maintained, the grounds were spacious, and the whole place had the feel of somewhere that took its purpose seriously.
The tuition, naturally, reflected all of that. It was not cheap. That was a large part of why Nova had been living carefully for the past two years, watching every Pokédollar.
The two of them were orphans, in the straightforward sense of the word. The League's charitable support covered their basic living costs, but tuition and Nova's training expenses were his own responsibility — earned mission by mission, bounty by bounty.
Raising Nidorino was not a light investment. Poison-type materials, TMs, the early-stage costs — all of it added up quickly. But Nidorino pulled its weight in battles, and that had kept Nova's income and expenses in rough balance.
The Academy ran more like a university than a secondary school. Students had required courses and electives, and in between, they were largely free to train, study, or use the library as they saw fit. Even at nine in the morning, there were small clusters of students scattered across the campus.
What Nova did not notice was that several of those students were watching him.
Not casually, either.
"Are you sure it's him?"
"Positive. Aresdra brought him through the gate herself."
"He doesn't look like anything special. Why would she—"
"So who's going to do something about it?"
"Don't be stupid. The battle department has practical training today. He's a professional trainer. What exactly are a few performance and coordinator students going to do to him?"
A pause.
"Fine. But he's back in Harmony City now, isn't he? Aresdra still has classes. He can't disappear forever. We'll have another chance."
Nova had no idea that a portion of the student body had, at some point, quietly decided he was a problem — and had apparently agreed on a plan to embarrass him in front of Aresdra at the first opportunity.
Even if he had known, it probably would not have concerned him much.
He was roughly the same age as most of these students, yes. But a year of solo travel, bounty missions, and real battles had given him a very different kind of experience from anything a school curriculum could cover. The Pokémon theory these students were studying in class was material Nova had already worked through years ago — half of it from games and shows in his previous life, the rest from time in the field.
The gap between him and an ordinary student trainer was not small. It would take a teacher stepping in to give anyone here a real fight.
Aresdra's leave was approved without any trouble. A little over ten minutes later, she came out of the principal's office and the two of them headed off campus together.
The apartment where Aresdra and Nova were currently living was a small place in the outskirts of Harmony City.
The location was inconvenient — an hour from the centre of town, and prone to minor sandstorms once a month or so. But the rent was low enough that a full year there cost little more than a single month in the city proper.
It suited them well enough.
Nova had not been back in nearly a year. Aresdra spent most of her time in the school dormitory and came home on weekends to clean up and air things out.
For lunch, Aresdra kept it simple and boiled some noodles. Nova, meanwhile, put together a proper meal for his Pokémon — blending ingredients according to the recipes his training system had provided. He usually prepared a large batch at once, which meant feeding his partners was never complicated, just a matter of portioning it out.