๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°`°๑۩yoѕнιмι ιѕυzυ۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°`°๑۞๑

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The familiar but disembodied sound of the school bell rings for the final time in late June from the speakers in the park at Goldenrod City, and the final time for the young ravenette as she stares at the crowd gathered here to witness her ascension into the vaunted halls of those with highschool diplomas. The bell was a commemorative touch to the graduation ceremony to signal the last class for the graduates of the school, with sophisticated knowledge in all subjects from social sciences to mathematics to Pokemon studies and the humanities. In a world where more often than not many children ventured forth into the world already with their curious spiritual partners by the time they were this age, those who were still in school would likely go on to pursue careers in various fields instead of adventuring. In her black graduation gown and with her tasseled cap she felt almost uncomfortable, with her eyes that wandered ever toward the outside of her bubble.

It was for that reason Yoshimi had sought to build a persona for herself when she was younger, pretended to be all sorts of wonderful for lack of color in her reality, where she was unable to ever properly make a contract with a Pokemon, though she tried to summon them before. Money was sparse since father died. Yoshimi's dreams of adventure were cut short when it happened, with both grief and a steady realization that she would have to quickly help her mother support the family as the eldest child. The grief was internalized, and put aside, as she took a side job at a game store, but it made its way into her dark alter persona that she infused within herself as a middle schooler-- and whose consequences she still struggles to deal with, especially in her social life. But now that her brother is of age, she doesn't have to shoulder that responsibility anymore. Which means, ultimately, she has the freedom to live her life the way she wants.

But it's so hard to decide, isn't it? At the end of her education, she realizes quickly that she hadn't exactly thought about the next step in her plan, and putting up these and those airs at the graduation party regarding her career opportunities, she begins to wonder what her lot in life really is. Surely, she wouldn't go back to work in the game shop. She scored decent marks all around, and nothing particularly stands out about her academically. She looks down at herself as she lays in her bed the morning after the party, a familiar dry and empty feeling in her chest welling up. She doesn't even dare to think of writing for a career. The prospects of such notwithstanding, her only portfolio to date was...fan fiction and, well, god-awful poetry she can't bear to look at ever again, not so soon after it all happened. Her head flops back down onto the pillow, and her violet eyes close as she exhales a breath wet and heavy with frustration.

The sheets do little to muffle her yells as she tosses and turns in the bed, and her brother yells at her to shut up, in so many words, through the thin walls of their apartment. Yoshimi's eyes finally open to see her Gengar plush doll staring at her with a mocking grin. "The hell are you looking at Gentama?" she growls lowly, with a livid stare. Her hand shoots out to open palm slam the plush across the room. The plush paps anticlimactically against the wall and falls to the ground silently. A more muted groan rumbles from her throat, and she closes her eyes, breathing in, before letting out a soft sob. It's so hard. It's so unfair. Do they just expect me to know what I'm supposed to do? Her eyes level once more at Gentama, whose face is snugly in the carpet, just the way she intended. And for a long moment, she has a wild and terrible idea. Her arms extend to the laptop on her nightstand.

---

The breeze is fresh and warm at the park, surprisingly not strong enough to blow out the candles on the five points of the pentagram she drew in pink chalk on the paved walkway in the middle of the flower garden. Couples on their various dates walk by with odd glances and quiet spare comments that the girl had grown so accustomed to, but which, until now, never failed to hurt her anyway. But this time, this time she was serious. Sort of. I mean, this method worked plenty of times before. Not that she was able to fulfill any of the contract tasks, but she definitely did summon them. As she rises from lighting the final candle, the pink rose in her hand flutters in the breeze. Her choice for this summoning was different from all the rest-- not psychic, nor dark, nor ghostly, nor poisonous. All of them seemed to have dark and insurmountable tasks, ones she was neither capable nor willing to do at most times. No, this one was different, and if rumors from the internet were true, rather easy.

"The impossibly beautiful witch Yo--" Yoshimi pauses, and bites her tongue, looking around her as she realizes that a couple kids have gathered to stare at her. Her odd dark robes and powerful eyeliner did little to keep her under the radar, and shouting certainly didn't help either. She sighs heavily and plucks three petals from the rose, and recites the call, blushing madly as the saccharine words exit her lips in her soothing alto voice with her arms outstretched. Amidst the pleasant smells and quiet wind, the murmuring of couples and the children watching her are cut through with her voice, and at least to Yoshimi, that was all she could hear.

"Mother of the sweetest hues,
Of happiness and shaded views,
Bearing fruit of soothing art,
Come to heal my tired heart."