The lights are on his in office, the artificial illumination a stark contrast against the early light of the pale sky.

Jupiter creaks open the door. The room is quiet save for the faint scratching of the feather pen. She glances at the corner where his Pokemon are sleeping soundly. Everything else is asleep except for that stupid boy hunched over his desk, surrounded by a sea of papers.

"Cyrus?" He doesn't hear her the first time. Jupiter frowns and steps closer. She eyes the steaming coffee mug—the one Saturn had given him. No doubt he's way past his sixth cup.

Jupiter peers over his shoulder. Intricate diagrams and maps stretch across the table like a damn bulletin. Sticky notes adorned the pages of heavy tomes. A thick legal pad sits at his side, scrawled with something that looks like rocket science.

"Since antiquity, oral stories whispered of mystical relics known as 'Time Gears.' These small cogs were said to maintain the flow of time throughout the region," he's mumbling as his reading glassed droop. One hand hovers over the yellowed pages while the other jots in his notebook. "It was said that Dialga, the Guardian of Time, created these treasures to safeguard-"

"Cyrus?"

He stops. Very, very slowly, he turns around to the frowning woman. "Jupiter." His voice is hoarse. The shadows under his eyes have reached down to his cheekbones.

She forces a wry smile. "I see you're still coherent enough to remember my name."

Cyrus tilts his head. "Of course I do. You're my Commander."

"That's not—" She sighs. "No, forget it."

"All right." He takes a hungry sip of coffee. "Do you need me for something?"

"Yes," she hisses. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Working," he replies after a pause. It could've been a question. "Actually, I'm done with work. I'm researching about—"

"Do you know what time it is, Cyrus?"

"It's still…" Cyrus squints at the clock. He lifts his glasses and rubs his eyes. Jupiter sighs into her hands when he crosses to the windows, lifts the blinds, and recoils as if he'd suddenly caught on fire.

No one speaks. Cyrus casually turns back and clears his throat. He returns to his desk to clean his scatter, all while avoiding her glare.

"And what are you doing now?" Jupiter grumbles.

"Cleaning. I need to reopen the building. It is a weekday, after all," is the flat reply, as if it's obvious. After he puts everything away, Cyrus crosses to retrieve his signature vest.

"Jupiter," he growls when she grabs his collar. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I asked you that first," she snarls.

"Let me go." His eyes flash.

"Absolutely not. Have you looked at yourself lately?"

A pause. Cyrus passes his hand through his soft, non-spiky hair. "I took a shower if that's what you meant. I've already taken care of my hygiene… and now I just need to find my gel." He frowns. "Am I making you uncomfortable, Commander?"

Jupiter whirls her Boss around until their gazes connect. She's scowling. His frown deepens, although he's lacking much of his intimidating aspect with his hair down like this. She actually prefers it this way: the damn boy's actually looking like his real age.

"Commander?"

"You." Jupiter jabs a finger into his chest. "Need to sleep. Now."

"No, I do not." He attempts to break free from her iron grip and fails. A slight hint of panic slips into his mask. "Let me go, Commander. I need to open up the building."

"I can do it." She flashes him a glare. "You've been up all night again, right? The research on the Time Gear can wait."

Cyrus shakes his head. "But I'm close to the truth, Jupiter. I'm certain these mythical objects actually exist. And I'm almost positive that a Time Gear resides within the vicinity of Foggy Forest." His eyes light up as he speaks, despite the gnawing fatigue on his face. "If I can confirm my suspicions, then the other four Time Gears—"

"—can wait," she finishes and drags Cyrus out of his office. The sack of bones can't even put up a decent fight. "I know the world's shitty. The sooner we get rid of it and replace it, the better."

She whirls around. He flinches. "But don't you think that you're overshooting the mark, Cyrus? Those things only exist in myths. In those dusty library books you hauled back from who-knows-where."

"Canalave Library," he mumbles. "Eterna Archives. On that note, my two-hour loan window is almost here. I must return—"

"Mars and Saturn can do it for you." Jupiter hauls him down the empty halls. It's only an ephemeral bliss that's soon to be broken by the noisy grunts and their Pokemon. "It's okay to have fines. Everyone has them."

"Yes, but Jupiter—"

Jupiter kicks his door open and throws him to his bed. He lands with a soft gasp. She towers over him, her arms crossed, her lips set in a tight frown.

"You're the only one who would check out those ancient things." She plants a firm hand on his chest, effectively pinning him down. Panic is spilling from the cracks in his mask. "Go to sleep. I'll take care of everything."

Cyrus stubbornly shakes his head. "Commander Jupiter!" he snaps in his most authoritative voice. It takes most of her willpower not to buckle under the crackling air. "Unhand me at once! Such acts of insolence will not be tolerated—"

Jupiter hurls a pillow into his face. He falls back down again. "I'm not scared of you, Cyrus. I'm not that soft like the others."

To me, you're still that quiet young man. Do you remember? From that rainy day, all those years ago? Nothing's changed from that.

Cyrus fumbles for ground. "C-Commander!" The monotone had broken from his voice. He's trying to act tough without succeeding. Jupiter rolls her eyes and tosses the blanket over his head.

"Go to sleep, Boss."

"Are you mad? It's already morning! We're set to open soon, and I have a lot of paperwork—"

Jupiter yanks the blanket away and matches his surprised expression. "Listen here, you little hypocrite," she growls. "You look like a damn zombie. I'll cancel those business negotiations for you—those egotists aren't worth your time anyways. Do us all a favor and sit your damn ass into your damn bed and close your damn eyes!"

Cyrus hesitates. Jupiter clears her throat and drops her voice. "I'm telling you this not just because I'm your subordinate. I'm telling you because I care. Because I'm actually concerned for your well-being, Cyrus. Do you know how much we worry when you neglect yourself like this?"

Cyrus blinks. He drops his gaze to his hands. There's a frown on his lips, but it's more of a placement expression as he grapples with something else in his mind.

"Why?"

Jupiter bites her lips. "Why what?" she says softly. Cyrus turns away.

After he deems that it's safe to continue, he raises his head. "We're strangers. We're not related by blood. Any relationship between you and me is a professional one. It doesn't make sense for you to expend your time with someone like me."

Jupiter puts her hands on her hips and stares at the boy before her. Finally, she crosses to his bedside and sits.

"You've asked me the same question before," she whispers. His brows furrow, and he looks away again. "And I've already told you my answer. The children and I have been with you for quite a while. Shouldn't it be clear by now?"

The edges of his lips tug downwards, but his face is still shielded. Jupiter can hear her pounding heart in the silence that follows.

"Go to sleep, Cyrus," Jupiter murmurs, squeezing his hand. Damn, is he cold. He stiffens but remains quiet. Then when he does turn his head, there's a strange expression on his face… an all too familiar look that tugs at her heart.

"Okay." Cyrus's voice is barely above a whisper. "All right then, Commander. I see that nothing will dissuade you otherwise."

"Good." Jupiter fights back a smile as Cyrus settles onto his pillow. But then he just has to open his mouth.

"The building—"

"I'll take care of it. We have grunts for a reason, you know. Leave the footwork to them."

"Yes, but the books—"

"Mars and Saturn will return it." She heads to his drawer, locates his wallet, and holds up his library card. Cyrus frowns. "Don't worry about it."

"T-Thank you, but I—"

"No one's going to take the Time Gear. No one's crazy enough to go into that foggy mess for something that might or might not exist."

"Commander, let me talk—"

"Cyrus." He freezes. Jupiter sighs into her hands and looks at him. "Stop worrying. Everything will be fine. I'll make sure we're operating normally."

Before he can nag again, she taps his elbow. It's not even a strong blow, and yet, he flinches with a sharp hiss. "You still need to recover from that Draco Meteor attack. That's not a laughing matter." Jupiter clicks her teeth. "If you do faint again, then that would be a waste of time, right?"

Cyrus absorbs her words. He blinks. "Yes… And that will be a great inconvenience." His voice is low.

Jupiter sighs again. She rolls her head, messages her shoulders. "You want me to tuck you in, Boss?"

Cyrus's eyes widen. "N-no. You can leave now." His reply is so faint that she pretends not to have heard him. She tucks him in anyways. He's frowning, but he's not protesting.

"Thank you, Jupiter," he murmurs in a near whisper. Her ears flush slightly, and her lips tug themselves into a smile.

"Do you want me to sing to you?" Just like back then?

"I am not a child." Cyrus shifts to the side, but his ears are open. He adds in a mumble, "I've also had a considerable amount of caffeine recently, so it might not be worth your effort."

Jupiter sees right through his façade. "It's fine." She scoots closer until she can hear his breathing. "You're not inconveniencing me.

"Now let's see… Ah. There's a famous lullaby when it used to be sunnier in Hearthome. Have you heard of 'Star of Dawn?'"

Cyrus repeats the title in French. "Gra—I've heard of it, yes."

Jupiter has the sudden urge to pet his fluffy head but suppresses it for the sake of professionalism. Instead, she begins the lullaby with a soft hum.

"Little sun in the darkness, come back home… The moon awaits you in the early light… As dawn arrives, you'll find each other again…"

Jupiter stops once she hears his faint snoring. She peers over his shoulder and lifts a lock of hair from his eyes. Her lips immediately blossom into a smile.

"That was fast. Sweet dreams, Cyrus." And with that, she stands and closes the door behind her.

"What do you think the Boss wants from us?" Mars chirps as the two Commanders head to his office.

"Hopefully something good?" Saturn raps his hand against the steel frame. "Boss! We're coming in!"

No reply. The two Commanders exchange glances before opening the door. Someone is indeed sitting in the Boss's chair, but when it turns, that person is not Cyrus at all.

"J-Jupiter?" Saturn sputters.

Mars claps her hands. "Are you the Boss now? How exciting!"

"No, Mars. I think I'm more comfortable as a Commander." Jupiter laces her hands with a smirk. She's quite enjoying this position actually. And this chair. The finest cushion she'd ever had the luxury of experiencing. "Cyrus finally got some damn sleep. That's all."

Saturn blinks. He approaches the desk with a grinning Mars. "Nah. You're joking."

"Nope." Jupiter leans back in the heavenly chair. "He's sleeping in his room." She happens to catch the lone picture frame on his desk. It's that photo from all those years ago, still preserved in its original condition. The photo before Team Galactic became a thing.

And she laughs. It's a warm sound that stirs mixed emotions in her bosom. The younger Commanders notice this, but she only beckons them forward and hands Saturn the library card. "Oh yes. Can you two return those books for him?"

Saturn looks to the pile and gasps. "A-all that? When did he get all that?"

"I don't know." There's still a lot of things about Cyrus that she doesn't know. That man is a walking enigma.

Mars ambles to the books. "Boss is really taking this Time Gear thing seriously, huh?" She opens a dusty tomb and flips through it without batting an eye. "So when are we blowing stuff up?"

Jupiter opens her mouth and quickly closes it. "Erm… S-so he's planning an expedition to confirm his suspicions. We just lay low and wait." She shoots the younger woman a glare. "And that means no blowing stuff up."

"Aww…" Then Mars's face brightens. "So what machine are we taking today, Saturn?" She effortlessly heaps a handful of tomes into her thin arms. "The Hopper? The Spaceship?"

"The UFO," Saturn replies with a smirk. "It has a retractable arm so we don't even have to step inside the library! There's also autopilot, so we can play videogames on the way there!"

"Oh." Mar's face falls. "Right! Games… um… sounds fun."

Jupiter shifts her weight into the chair. She swivels around to the full view of Veilstone beyond the tall windows. There's the outline of Hearthome City, just beyond the clouds.

As the younger Commanders chatter about books, Jupiter casually peruses through the files documenting those Time Gears and their connection to Sinnoan mythology. His notes are always neat and precise, but it's like holding a damn dictionary in her arms. She shoves them back into the drawers.

"Mars. Saturn." They turn. "After you're done, we have stuff to do. Cyrus insists on going to Foggy Forest alone, but I want to pack some stuff for him just in case."

Saturn blinks. "That one forest everyone knows to stay away from?"

"Exactly." Jupiter sighs. "That one."

Mars nods. "Yup! You can count on us, Jupiter! No fog's going to stand in the way of Master Cyrus!"

Jupiter snorts. Even if he doesn't succeed in this mission, he won't give up. He's on a trail—a papery-thin lead at that—but he'll stick to it like glue until he tires himself out. But he'll find something.

He always will.

And their jobs: hers, Mars, and Saturn's, will be to aid him in every step of the way. It was her mistake to let him go to Celestic Town alone. No one could've foresaw the Champion's appearance, much less expect her to unleash such a devastating attack.

But that's in the past. She has to focus on the present and future. Right now, the three of them have to make sure he doesn't shoulder all his burdens alone.