It was late at night, and all the Pokémon on your team were out of their Poké Balls, scattered across the room and asleep on whatever surfaces they’d claimed as their own. You’d tried—halfheartedly—to convince a few of them to move over to the bed, but they were stubborn and unbothered, so eventually you just sighed and let them be.

You were lying there, staring at the ceiling and trying to coax yourself into sleep, when you heard a window slide open in the living room. Great. Either a home intruder, or N again, showing up uninvited to ramble about Team Plasma like he hadn’t already given you that speech a thousand times. Honestly, you almost preferred the idea of a burglar at that point—at least they’d be quieter.

What you didn’t expect was a visibly exhausted N stumbling in, barely saying a word before climbing onto your bed, dragging you toward him with surprising familiarity, and promptly passing out. Even your Scolipede, stirred awake when the door brushed against his antennae, just stared in silent, utter confusion at the scene unfolding.