The dinner table was almost set when the doorbell rang, and Makani skipped past Hau in a blur of nervous excitement to answer it. He took a deep breath with his door on the handle. Everyone knew their parts. His family had his back. They could do this.

The first thing Makani noticed when he opened the door was Azophi’s unusually gender-neutral attire—a women’s button down and men’s slacks accompanied by minimal makeup.

The second thing he noticed was their mother hovering by their elbow. She was Makani’s height, which made her short compared to her husband and child—and Makani’s own imagination. But once that shock had passed, she began to fit the bill. She was straight-backed and sharp-eyed with a short haircut that looked fresh from the salon. She had a silk scarf tied neatly about her neck to top off her slightly casual but immaculate outfit. She looked Makani up and down for an instant in a way that made his arm itch to draw across his chest before her eyes passed right over him.

“Alola and good evening,” Makani managed after what he hoped was a much shorter pause than it felt. “Thank you for coming.”

Azophi bowed in the typical Johton fashion while their father reached a burly arm around them to shake Makani’s hand. “Of course!”

“Alola,” Azophi’s mother said with a stiff but otherwise correct Alolan wave. “It was kind of you to invite us.” She was looking over his shoulder at the rest of his family, who were behind him now.

“Please come in,” his mother said. “Make yourselves at home.”

Makani took the opportunity of the parents getting drawn into conversation to beam at Azophi, who threw a guarded smile back at him before edging their way out of the group to the adjacent doorway. Hau tapped Makani to help bring the rest of the food in and he reluctantly slipped past Azophi into the kitchen. He passed his sister on his way to the counter, laden with another platter, and heard Azophi quietly address the Luratis.

“Konbanwa, Rosemary.”

“Alola!” she chirped back. “You should come for dinner more often! We got to cook all kinds of fun stuff.”

Azophi looked to Makani a bit helplessly, but Rosemary was already bustling past, knowing perfectly well that she wasn’t understood and not expecting an answer.

“She’s glad you’re here,” Makani offered.

A quiet “oh,” was all that all that drifted from Azophi’s lips as Makani went past them to the table. It was too soft and surprised for Makani’s liking, but he knew that knot would probably take a while to unravel.

Everyone took their seats at the table except for Rosemary, who daintily adjusted her apron as she settled next to Makani's mother. The pair had truly gone all out for this meal. The spread looked more like what they severed at the hotel than the meals they made at home. The variety alone was impressive, and the seamless mix of traditional Alolan dishes and modified Kantonian fare was all beautifully presented.

Azophi’s mother was quick to compliment the meal as they all served themselves from the various platters. Makani saw a faintly mischievous glint in his mother’s and Rosemary’s eyes as all three of the Torikabutos took a little of everything to be polite.

Less than a minute later, Quentin paused rather tellingly as he tried the poi.

Pika chuckled kindly to cover for his wife. “Don’t worry! Poi is a staple here, but it’s an acquired taste. Most people from other regions hate it. We probably should have warned you, but it’s always fun to see how people react.”

Quentin laughed good-naturedly. “It’s not so bad. In Johto there’s this fermented soybean dish…”

“Nattō?” Makani’s mother supplied helpfully.

“Yes! Yumi made me try it once. It’s like sour soybeans covered in snot.”

“Quentin!” Yumi snapped with a sharp look at her husband.

Everyone else laughed though, and that smoothed her over. Makani couldn’t help grinning like a fool at Azophi across the table, and Azophi tried their best not to grin back.

“So, Azophi, what are your plans once you get settled in here?” Makani’s mother asked, and Rosemary tilted her head to echo the interest. That was a little fast, but a natural starter.

Azophi had to swallow a bite first and their mother beat them to it. “Azophi has to finish University. The degree was almost complete before the move.”

Why did she have to get in the way already? It was bad enough when people talked over their children, but Azophi was an adult! Hau shot Makani a perturbed look, and he gave a little nod that he hoped conveyed I told you. The odd wording could have been dismissed as Anglic being her second language, but Makani knew that they had fought over pronouns before, so it was more likely a deliberate attempt to avoid them entirely.

“You’re the one that insisted I move with you,” Azophi grumbled. “All I needed was another semester,”

“What else do you need?” Pika prompted.

“If all my credits transfer, I’d need just one more Unovan Lit course and something in maths or science because Hau’oli University has distribution requirements for undergrads.”

“Well I may just be a high school teacher now, but I used to work at HOU, and I still have friends there. So just let me know if you need help signing up for courses, Azophi.”

Azophi smiled and started to answer before their mother cut them off again.

“Thank you Mr. Gabbard. We’ll be sure to look into it.”

Azophi fixed Makani with a long-suffering stare, and he tried unsuccessfully to shove down his anger and return a look of sympathy.

“Don’t worry,” Hau assured them. “I’ve been taking classes over at Ho-U and they’re pretty relaxed. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”

Yumi pulled a face at ‘Ho-U,’ but Quentin interjected before she could say anything. “So I hear you’re related to the Kahuna. That’s a pretty big deal here on the islands, right?”

Yumi perked up at that.

“Yeah!” Hau answered, still jovial.

But Makani couldn’t keep his own voice quite as friendly. He looked her right in the eyes. “Kahuna Hala is our grandfather.”

Hau leaned forward a little, and Makani got the message and let him take over. “Pokemon training is really big in our family. I’m hoping to be the next Kahuna some day.”

“Being a chef, I’m the odd one out,” said Makani’s mother, “but I married in, so the Kahili legacy remains untarnished.”

Pika laughed. “And I married an in-law, so I guess that makes me a super in-law!”

Quentin chuckled at the dad joke. “Azophi really wanted to be a trainer for a while when they were younger. Their room was covered in posters of these two trainers.” He smirked. “What were their names?”

Azophi flushed—which Makani had never witnessed before and really wanted to see more of— “Daaad!”

“Don’t be embarrassed. The whole region was into it for a minute there.”

Makani couldn’t help it. He was grinning almost as mischievously as Quentin. “Azophi never told me about that.”

Quentin pounced on it. “No? Well, it was maybe five years back when this trainer from Johto became the Hoenn League Champion.”

“AND she rode a gigantic dragon god into space to save us all from a huge meteorite!” Azophi nearly yelled.

“Really?” Quentin asked, stroking his beard. It was too exaggerated to be genuine. “I thought that was a different one.”

Azophi took the bait anyway. “That was Ren and Zinnia! It was all over the news!”

Makani stifled a giggle, and Azophi harumphed back in their chair, arms folded.

Makani’s mother smiled, and Rosemary wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Azophi, have you considered doing the Island Challenge?”

Azophi looked genuinely surprised at the suggestion, which meant Makani had his work cut out for him. But he’d come this far, and he was going to keep fighting.

“I think it’s a bit late for Azophi,” said Yumi. It was so casual, so dismissive, and Azophi wilted before their eyes—tase falling to their barely touched meal without even seeing it. “To be a career trainer, you have to start when you’re of age at thirteen. Our Champion took over the League when she was fifteen.”

Makani gripped his chair to stop himself flying out of it. Even Hau struggled to bite his tongue. As if every trainer had to be Kaspa Kitamsuye! It was galling, crazy on the face of it! But Azophi—who’d snarked right back at her only a few minutes ago—silently accepted her judgement. Quentin frowned but also said nothing.

Then Makani’s mother, with the sort of composure he could only dream of inheriting, stepped up to counter. “Well, here in Alola the starting age is sixteen and even kids who aren’t considering training as a career do the Island Challenge. It’s a tradition. I only made it to my fourth Trial before I ran out of steam, but I don’t regret it at all.” She scratched Rosemary under the chin, and she gave a little chirping purr and leaned into Maile. “Rosemary here is my best friend and she’s such a great help at work. My sous-chef is always saying she should be on the payroll.”

“At this point I still think it would be a poor decision,” Yumi replied. Unmoving and final.

That was greeted by an uncomfortable silence, in which Azophi’s far away look gradually transformed until they were glaring at their plate with eyes that glistened suspiciously in the soft light. Quentin’s brow lowered and his mouth turned downward as he turned to his wife, but she pointedly looked at neither of them, instead putting another small bite of food in her mouth.

Makani was seething again and bit down on his tongue. He couldn’t let himself make this worse for them. He had to stick to the plan. He looked up and saw his parents share a concerned glance across the table. They weren’t sure what to do either.

Then Hau stepped up to break the tension. “Hey mom! You said you made malasadas for dessert, right? Have I mentioned I love you?”

“Oh, I completely forgot! I’ll go grab them.” She stood and planted a kiss on Hau’s head as she passed.

Makani forced a deep breath. He could still do this. The seed was planted.

“What are malasadas?” Azophi asked.

“They’re sorta like donuts only way better!” Hau answered with one of his grand gestures and huge, beaming smiles. It piqued their interest nicely—just in time for the amazing smell to wash over them as Maile returned with the platter.

The mood recovered almost instantly. Quentin liked the malasadas so much that he had a second one with Hau, and even Yumi seemed to enjoy hers. Food was a magic as powerful as moves, and Maile Kahili knew how to use it better than most.

The conversation carried on past desert without much further tension, and—Lunala shine bright—Yumi and Quentin were perfectly amenable to departing without Azophi.