The shrine on Pokémon Tower's seventh floor offered solitude that the lower levels couldn't match.
Miyuki sat before the memorial altar, knees drawn to her chest, silver hair cascading around shoulders that shook with sobs she couldn't contain. The candles' flickering light caught her tears, making them glitter like the spirits she hadn't been able to save.
Eleven plaques had been added today. Eleven names she had watched fade despite everything she tried.
Gastly from Route 8. Estimated age: twelve years.
Haunter from Lavender Tower. Estimated age: forty-three years.
Misdreavus from unknown origin. Estimated age: seven years.
Each one represented a failure. Each one carried weight that threatened to crush her.
She heard footsteps on the stairs but didn't turn. Part of her hoped whoever approached would leave her to her grief.
The footsteps stopped beside her, and Sasuke sat without speaking.
Minutes passed in silence.
The candles burned. The incense smoke drifted. Somewhere below, Lavender Town continued its eternal rhythm of remembrance.
Sasuke didn't demand conversation. Didn't offer platitudes. Simply sat beside her, his presence communicating what words couldn't.
I'm here. You're not alone.
Eventually, Miyuki's sobs quieted. The acute grief settled into something more sustainable, still painful, but no longer overwhelming.
"You saved the ones you could," Sasuke said finally. "That's what matters."
"But the ones I couldn't..." Her voice cracked. "They deserved better."
"Yes. They did." He didn't deny the truth of her grief. "And we'll make sure Aether pays for what they did. Every death will be answered."
"That doesn't bring them back."
"No. Nothing brings them back." He paused, choosing words carefully. "But your skill gave them peaceful ends. You were there when they faded. You held them. You cared."
"I couldn't save them."
"You couldn't fix damage that wasn't meant to be fixed. Aether extracted their essence, the fundamental energy that made them exist. No medical skill could restore that." Sasuke's voice was gentle but firm. "But you made their final moments matter. You made them feel loved when they deserved nothing less."
"That's kindness too?"
"That's everything."
The silence that followed was different, contemplative rather than devastated.
Miyuki's thoughts turned from what she hadn't done to what she could do. The Ghost Pokémon were gone, but the conditions that had hurt them persisted. Aether Foundation continued operating. Other facilities remained hidden. More Pokémon suffered in laboratories she hadn't yet discovered.
"I know what I want to specialize in," she said.
Sasuke waited.
"Trauma care. Pokémon rescued from abuse." The words came with clarity that surprised her. "Not just healing injuries, rehabilitating spirits that have been broken. Teaching them to trust again. Helping them recover from what humans did to them."
"I see. That's a difficult path."
"Necessary paths often are." Miyuki's golden eyes found his crimson ones. "What Aether does, extracting essence, forcing evolution, treating Pokémon as energy sources, it destroys more than bodies. It destroys the ability to trust. To bond. To be what Pokémon are supposed to be."
"And you want to fix that."
"I want to give them a chance at recovery. Not every case will succeed, today proved that. But some will. Some Pokémon who would have remained broken will find their way back because someone understood what they needed."
The career path that had been forming throughout their journey crystallized into absolute certainty.
Not just breeder. Not just doctor.
Pokémon rehabilitation specialist.
Someone who stood between abused Pokémon and a world that had failed them.
"You'll change countless lives," Sasuke said.
The words landed with weight that made Miyuki's heart race.
He believed in her. Not because he was obligated to, not because encouragement was expected, because he genuinely saw her potential and chose to affirm it.
"Thank you," she managed. "For always being here. When I doubt myself, when I fail, when everything feels impossible, you're here."
"Always."
The word was simple but absolute. A promise that went beyond their journey, beyond circumstances, into something fundamental about who Sasuke was.
Miyuki's tears continued falling, but they'd transformed, grief mixing with gratitude, devastation giving way to determination.
Sasuke reached out, his thumb gently wiping a tear from her cheek. The gesture was so tender, so unexpected, that Miyuki's breath caught.
"Don't carry this alone," he said. "None of us have to carry anything alone anymore."
Miyuki wanted to tell him everything.
The feelings she'd been suppressing for months. The way his presence made everything feel possible. The moments she'd imagined telling him, rooftops, balconies, quiet nights when the words had nearly escaped.
But grief sat too fresh in her chest. Confession in the shadow of death felt wrong, exploiting tragedy for personal revelation.
Not now, she decided. But one day.
For now, his support was enough. His presence beside her in the darkness. His belief in what she could become.
"We should rejoin the others," she said.
"When you're ready."
"I think I'm ready." She rose, finding steadiness that hadn't been there before. "There's work to do. Cases to build. An organization to dismantle."
"Together."
"Together."
The Mobile Home's common area fell silent when they entered.
Kasumi and Kiyomi had been discussing quietly, their conversation dying as they registered Miyuki's tear-stained face and Sasuke's protective posture beside her.
"How are you?" Kasumi asked gently.
"Better." Miyuki settled into a seat, Sasuke taking position nearby. "Not good, but better."
"We've been talking," Kiyomi said. "About what happens next."
"The journey continues." Sasuke's voice carried certainty. "Badges, ribbons, the progress we planned. But with additional purpose."
"Aether Foundation must end." Kiyomi's golden eyes held conviction that matched Miyuki's determination. "Not just investigated, ended. Completely."
"That's not just the League's job anymore," Kasumi added. "It's ours. Personal."
"We keep collecting evidence." Kiyomi pulled up documentation on her tablet. "Every facility. Every victim. Every crime we witness. We build a case so overwhelming that even corrupt officials can't suppress it."
"And when the time comes?"
"Our testimony ends Danzo." Miyuki's voice carried steel that grief had forged. "We stand in whatever court or hearing or tribunal eventually forms. We tell them what we saw. What we treated. What we couldn't save."
"We make sure they can't hide anymore."
The group sat with shared resolution that had been building since Saffron, since the ruins, since every encounter with an organization that treated Pokémon as resources rather than beings.
"Fuchsia City is next," Sasuke said. "Gym battle. Contest opportunities. Normal journey activities. We don't abandon our goals."
"But we pursue them with eyes open," Kiyomi continued. "Watching for Aether everywhere. Ready to respond when we find them."
"And when we finally face Danzo directly?"
Sasuke's expression held something that made even his closest companions uncertain.