For those of you who like action, I'm afraid that I can no longer deliver that to you. If that's you, the rest of the book might be boring, as it's just tying up loose ends for the drama/romance. But after this section there will only be 4 chapters left, so it's worth finishing!!

Thanks for hanging in there for me, guys!

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My mother receives the dreaded phone call shortly after my shower (which was beyond heavenly, by the way). Ghetsis apparently decided to approach the "not guilty" angle. Which means we would indeed have to be present for a trial.

In other words, please shoot me.

Seriously though, I don't know what he could possibly hope to accomplish. It couldn't be any clearer that he was the one responsible for this entire mess known as Team Plasma since the start. No one else was to blame for his attempted terrorist attack. Or for N's manipulated childhood...

If you can't tell, I'm still really upset about it all. Without a doubt, Ghetsis appears to be of the narcissistic type— or at the very least, a psychotic sociopath. So his brain probably has some kind of twisted explanation that justifies his means. Either way, I'm kinda pissed I have to waste my time on a pointless judicial exercise that will surely bring me nothing but endless amounts of anxiety.

Considering the federal urgency of the trial, it ends up being scheduled at the beginning of the next month. And wouldn't you know it; it happens to be exactly thirty days since that terrible nightmare. What a wonderful way to commemorate that anniversary.

To my chagrin, my mother insists on keeping me home bound until then. She says that there's no real point in going out to continue my journey, when I could be dragged back just after I took off for the trial. I could spend days upon end stuck in a courthouse. Oh Arceus, I hope this doesn't take that long. I'd rather launch myself from Skyla's infamous cannons and slam my face against the steel walls of her hangar again.

Well, okay, the walls were padded, of course. There's no other way that Gym would have passed safety inspection otherwise (although I'm honestly shocked that it still does). But the point is, I'd rather put myself through all of that pain and terror than go through this torture.

And that is probably why my period of recovery feels like the longest days of my life.

At least I have N to keep me company. He makes every day of the insane monotony bearable. Hugh also continues to visit me on a daily basis. Hilda, however, proves suspiciously absent after the first few days. It takes a lot of coaxing, and a lot of (failed) attempts from Hugh to draw her out of the bedroom she essentially barricades herself into. But she eventually comes out.

"I'm sorry for acting so... childish," she apologizes, after an awkwardly silent walk back to my house. Right now is the first time I've personally heard her speak since the International Police headquarters, and that thought kind of throws me for a loop.

"I just had some moody teenager reflection going on," Hilda continues with a shrug. "And I needed the space to work through the emotions on my own. I didn't want to bother you guys, or do something I knew I'd regret."

Hugh swats her playfully. "Well, you certainly took long enough. I was worried, you know. What you did isn't exactly healthy."

"Well, it was either that, or risking something worse," she retorts, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes. "And as annoyed as I was with you constantly yelling at me from behind the door... I appreciate that you cared enough to come after me."

"Hugh, you did not," I growl with a tone of reprimand, my eyes squinting in disbelief. Yet I know perfectly well that is exactly what happened; it's too like him. Sure enough, he throws his hands up wordlessly, confessing his guilt.

"He did," N confirms for me. "Do you remember when I went to his house yesterday? He was very... loud." He looks ready to squirm, he is so uncomfortable. "And Hilda just screamed right back, telling us to leave her alone. Among other things."

"Girls," Hugh mutters quietly, rolling his eyes.

"I heard that!" Hilda says sharply, but her eyes are twinkling as she pushes him. "Sometimes, we just need our space. Ever seen a chart of all of the hormones we women have running around?"

The chemistry between all of us is pretty great, actually— better than I could have hoped, given the romantic tension between Hilda, N, and I. While my poor mother went to the door every day to shoo away all of the reporters, I lay propped on the bed with everyone else gathered around. We tell each other our stories, laugh at the mishaps, and even play some board games. Once in a while, I would let out my Pokémon for some company. They're so used to being outdoors for extended periods of time that I figure they are going crazy, being holed up in their tiny capsule homes.

But the times when N and I could guarantee being alone were the best. Slowly but surely, I witnessed the hesitant and uncertain wall around his heart melt away like snow. He confessed he was terrified the first couple of times we hugged on the day we met, but soon enough he became more comfortable with cuddling. We never failed to be open with each other, and to pour our hearts into encouraging the other. I swear I must have told him everything I ever knew about my life. He was just so easy to talk to, and so understanding. When we were together, I just felt so happy and loved, in a way unlike any other. Granted, it was probably more just my elation at being with him, more than anything else. But I could tell he felt content to be with me, too.

After the first week or so of my house arrest, my skin completely returns to its pallid white coloring. Occasionally, my annoying migraine would return, steadily pounding like the move Belly Drum. But over time, its intensity and frequency gradually grew less and less. I even attempt to leave my bed to walk around the house, but my mom didn't want me doing anymore than that at first.

"Nuh uh, Rosa," she chides me one morning, even as I voice my protest. "You can walk around a little if you'd like, but you're confined to these walls until this trial. Not only should you still be resting, but those reporters are still after us. I'm afraid how far they might go to extract their precious information. You're not going out there."

I curse my luck, having only made it halfway down the hallway. I'm just going stir crazy, staring at the same old walls over and over again. Just like my Pokemon, I'm too used to engaging in the active lifestyle of a Trainer.

"But Mom, I feel much better now!" I protest feebly, even as I know such an action is futile. "I feel so trapped in here!"

"I know you do, honey, but no buts. Just try to learn some patience, okay? And if I have to, I will have N help me keep you inside."

"Wow, okay. Thanks for the warning," I mutter defeatedly, slipping back into bed unwillingly. "But how dare you use him against me."

One night, as everyone says their goodnights, Hilda creeps over and quietly asks to talk to me alone for a second. The request gets my heart pounding, and my palms instantly start sweating. The thought of being with her alone seems awkward enough. And for obvious reasons.

"Yeah? What's up?" I ask cautiously, hoping I'm wrong and she just wants to chat about something trivial. Like some girl-related stuff she didn't want the guys to know about.

She doesn't answer me at first, simply staring at me for a minute. The look in her eyes feels so intense, seeming to scrutinize my every thought. A sense of foreboding dawns on me— what if the tension between us has never fully dissipated? We get along well enough together when the guys are here. But is that just a mask she puts on for the sake of harmony? Is she really still resentful over what happened?

N and I are practically a couple at this point... I don't understand. Whatever happened between herself and N, anyways? If they were rivals, why would she feel so close to him? And how can she still be mad at me for something I didn't even do?

Hilda looks so conflicted, biting her lips as she sits down on my bed with me. She's clearly waging a war with herself over what she wants to say, her fingers grasping the sheets. Then, after a deep breath, they finally come.

"I'm probably going over the line here," she begins, which instantly makes my heart fall at her implications. "And I'm sorry if I am. But I guess I just don't..." She coughs, and I can tell it took considerable effort to force the rest out.

"I don't understand how you managed to capture N's heart so quickly," Hilda says finally, her voice barely audible and full of pain. "I don't know if you know his history with humans or not—"

"I do," I interrupt quietly. "It's a tragic one."

"That it is. Before myself, there was no one he could truly call a friend. And now that you're here..." She sighs deeply. "I guess this just speaks to the testament of your character. But let me give something you should think about. What you have with him? Be thankful for it, and enjoy every second of it. Because... Because you never know what you've got 'till it's gone."

This last sentence in particular seems laced with misery, her eyes scrunching up as she rises. Before I could ask her what the Shinx she means by that, she quickly turns away and nearly slams the door behind her without another word.

I don't know if I'm supposed to feel terrible for her, or for what I've done. Could I really help it that N and I both hold feelings for each other? Still, I can't imagine what it's like, to lose touch with someone she cares about so much like that. Her sense of resentment must still be pretty strong...

As you can imagine, I didn't really sleep that night, between the guilt and the empathy. I want to ask her about her cryptic message the following morning. But her eyes clearly tell me not to bring it up in front of anyone, unless I want my ass handed to me on a silver platter. So I become forced to push that aside for now.

During the second week, Mom begins to let me walk all around the house. But she still wouldn't let me leave. N, being the darling that he is, takes my Pokémon out for frequent walks around Aspertia— though I'm somewhat upset that I can't go with them. In general, besides the occasional bout of restlessness, they seem to be doing fine. We are so relieved to see this, despite everything that has happened. While my Pokémon are keeping us company, N would translate verbally translate whatever they wanted to say. And I must admit, that could get pretty humorous.

"No, Liepard, you can't play with my buns. Honestly, it's like you're still a Purrloin sometimes," I huff with my arms crossed, as she tries playfully catching my hair between her paws.

"'But Rosa, your hair looks just like string!'" N mimics Liepard in a light hearted voice, trying to keep himself from laughing.

"Where did you inherit that wacky hairstyle anyway? From Elesa's fashion show?" Hilda asks me with an eye roll.

"Does it matter? She likes it the way it is!" Hugh counters. They get into a little sissy fight— you know, that thing where they turn away from each other and slap each other's hands silly. I simply raise an eyebrow at their childish conduct.

"'Now, now, no Foul Play!'" N squeaks out, before all of us collapse into fits of laughter.

By the end of the month, I'm feeling more or less back to normal. And I'm really enjoying every second I can spend with N, especially during our cuddle sessions. But Mom still insists that it's necessary for me to see a therapist... Or to at least talk with someone.

"But, Mooooom..." I whine softly, with my three friends looking on. Really, she couldn't have picked a better time to embarrass me?

"Rosa, I know signs of repression and trauma when I see it. You still shout out in your sleep from nightmares almost every night. And have you noticed that you tend to tremble lately?"

I sigh in defeat. She's right, and I know it. Pretty much every night since the incident, I have woken up screaming. N usually came in to calm me down, his gentle arms around me and his soothing murmurs helping me remember where I was.

"You have been shaking a lot," N adds quietly, clasping my hand in his. I know he only wants what would be best for me, so I force myself to consent.

Earlier, my mom noticed the increased affection between us, but all she did was wink and go, "Well, look who finally has a boyfriend! About time, Rosa." I had been relieved, thinking she'd be irked that I'm falling in love with someone who had been a supposed "fugitive" before now.

So for the last week or so leading up to the trial, I make a compromise with my mom. I'm allowed to forgo therapist visits in Virbank City if I promise to talk to her more. So I update her about every little bit of the incident (yes, even the kiss), how I have felt, physically and emotionally, since... and I even told her about this whole relationship mess. Whenever I have a sudden flashback to that horrible, horrible day (which happens more often than I would like), she's always there to offer her comfort, support, and coping methods.

The day before the trial, while everyone else is lucky enough to be out on a walk, my mother sat me down for some trial-based advice. Flareon sits curled up on my lap, sleeping like a baby. I keep running my hand therapeutically over her fur over and over again, and she responds with a soft and gentle coo.

"So honey, remember to speak candidly and confidently. I know this must be making you really nervous, but I have faith that you'll do just fine! How do you feel about tomorrow?" she asks me, taking a sip of coffee from her light blue mug.

"Besides nervous? I don't know. I'm trying not to think about it," I admit with a shrug. "I feel fine now physically, but emotionally is a different story. Still, our conversations have really been helping... So thank you, Mom."

"Always, sweets. You know how much I love you. Just remember, if you get nervous, you have all sorts of tools in your toolbox now to help you calm down," she responds with a warm smile. "I'm glad you feel a bit more confident now. You always were a persistent fighter."

"Yup. I'm confident that Ghetsis will be sentenced to life," I think out loud. "So I'm not too worried about that. But..."

"But...?" she presses me, letting the word hang in the air. Part of me wants to roll my eyes, but I know all too well that she wants me to be the one who finishes that thought.

"What do I do about my love triangle situation?" I blurt out after a few seconds, before I lose the nerve to say anything.

"Well... That's a tough one, Rosa," she replies with a sigh. She pauses for a minute, putting her coffee down on the table.

"How do you really feel about N?" she asks finally, staring me in the eyes. "I know you've told me about your affections towards him, but how do you really, truly feel? Do you have any misgivings about your relationship?"

I bite my lip in serious contemplation, taking the time to carefully consider my answer.

"No. I truly don't. I think he's kind, caring, thoughtful, brave... I can tell he is really concerned with my well-being, and what will make me happy. I appreciate those things about him a lot" I start, trying to gather my thoughts. "I really, really like him and I feel a lot of love for him, whenever we spend time together."

"Yes, well you two have been attached to the hip," she chuckles. I laugh with her and continue.

"Though... I agree we fell in love kind of fast." Saying that makes me nervous. I could feel my chest tighten, wondering what Mom would say to that.

"Well, honey, now there's a slippery slope. Some people believe you should really have lots of time to develop a thoughtful, romantic relationship, before you can call it genuine. But who's to say falling in love never works out? I mean, your father and I got together pretty quickly!" She laughs again. "Do you mind if I insert my own two cents here?" I nod, giving her the go-ahead.

"I think you're afraid that the shared history between Hilda and N will cause him to drift away from you. You two went through a traumatic event. But it may be too soon to tell if your shared experience has had the time to sink in, like the periodic confrontations N and Hilda experienced."

I must admit, I'm impressed with her analysis. Leave it to a mother to know her child inside and out. I laugh and throw my hands up in faux defeat.

"You got me again, Mom. That's exactly what I was thinking. That, and... I fear how Hilda would react if N stayed with me."

"Well, here's some more motherly advice for you, if you don't mind. And I want you to listen to me very carefully, Rosa," Mom replies seriously. Her tone makes me perk up my ears and focus.

"It is true that sometimes there is a difference between falling in love... and being in love. That people who supposedly fall in love at first sight will abandon each other once the spark is gone. See, our emotions tend to be so strong that they feel right. They might encourage us to disregard any logic or reason, and lead us into rash situations too quickly."

I can feel my heart falling at these words, wondering if she is scolding me for my impulsive and seemingly uncontrollable crush.

"But! That doesn't mean it's not worth pursuing. Love is a wonderful experience, dear, and I want you to explore every aspect of it. This is your first time, after all. Even if the unthinkable happens and your heart becomes broken, I know you will be strong enough to withstand the tough times. Everyone goes through it at one point or another." She took another sip of coffee before continuing.

"But most importantly, you will learn from the situation. It becomes a permanent part of yourself, and it will ultimately morph you into a more beautiful being. Either way, I will be here to help and support you! It is not wrong for you to feel love for N, Rosa, even if it seems so sudden. Heck, I agree that he is a pretty wonderful human being in his own right. But it's never wrong for you to feel any emotion. It's how you react... that's what matters."

"So feeling like I love him so early on isn't bad?" I ask her quietly.

"Goodness no! Absolutely not. Dear, you have every right to follow these emotions, wherever they may lead you. That is... N returns your affections, correct?"

"Yes. And I'm not just saying that, I think he really does. He does everything he can to be there for me, and he keeps trying to show me that he really cares." My eyes drift down towards the table cloth. "Even if he's still a little nervous and doesn't know the best way of doing so right now. But I really can't blame him, because Ghetsis deprived him of almost all human contact for most of his life."

"Ghetsis," Mom mutters in disapproval with a shake of her head. "He's an exceptionally rotten soul. Anyways, if N does return your affections, then that means you are completely valid in pursuing a relationship with him! If it's not one sided, then there are no violations of personal space. You deserve to have this chance to be with him." She even tears up a little at the sentiment. "Here's my little girl, growing up so fast..."

"Aw, Mom..." I get up and give her a huge hug. "I'll always be your daughter." Relief courses through me, knowing that what I feel isn't necessarily wrong. But I couldn't feel completely better... not quite yet.

"What about Hilda, though?" I point out, leaning back in my chair.

She bites her lip. "Hm... So remind me of what's going on again?" I do.

"That's a complicated situation. She, too, has every right to have a relationship with him. We all have the rights to companionship. But if he is conflicted... what would be the best way for him to decide? Well, he could say to himself, 'Yes, I feel that I love them both equally, but whom do I want to share my life with? Whom do I want to be my emotional and supportive partner?' And the girl he doesn't choose, well, that doesn't necessarily mean he doesn't want her in that way. It just means that he values the friendship he has with her, and he wants to keep it that way."

While her words prove wise, they didn't really help bring me any closure. If anything, they have me feeling even more nervous. Because N basically loves the both of us the same, I believe. And we have very similar personalities. So how could he differentiate between the two of us and pick one? This isn't like picking out his favorite candy at the store; he can't get the other kind during his next visit. The girl left behind would be so heartbroken and hurt...

And that girl could be me...

"I realize why you would still be concerned," Mom interrupts my thoughts. "But don't worry about that bridge until if and when you have to cross it, honey."

"What if I can't stop worrying about it?"

"Well, then my advice is this: when the time comes for N to make a decision, support his outcome, whichever one of you he chooses. Try not to pressure or plead with him to change his mind, even if his decision breaks your heart. You don't want to seem desperate and controlling. Try to accept the outcome with grace- at least until you have the chance to escape to your own personal space and cry for a bit. If he does choose you, then I'll be very happy for you, dear.

"And Hilda, well, she will just have to find a way to cope. This can be a difficult matter, but I know she's strong enough to deal with it. If she isn't too upset, you should try to support her. Maybe you could convey that you are sorry N didn't pick her, and that you understand her sorrow, but also be sure emphasize how important they still are to each other regardless."

I nod contently, feeling somewhat better until a thought hits me like a Mega Punch.

"And if he picks Hilda...?" I ask quietly, fear flooding my heart and turning my veins into ice. She sighs as she runs her hand through my hair, tousling a loose strand of it.

"Then, dear, you will be the one needing the support. But at the moment, I want you to focus on keeping your mind clear for the trial tomorrow. Otherwise, your worry and despair could negatively impact your well being and performance."

But wouldn't that just be hiding my true feelings? I thought, but after a moment I shake my head. It wouldn't be for long, I think. I have a funny feeling this conflict will be resolved sooner rather than later...