"TRENT!!!"

Father's yell startles me out of my trance, without a second thought, I yell back "WHAT!" My voice cracked a little in the end there, so its less intimidating, but my point is made succinctly 

"DID YOU TAKE OUT THE TRASH?!" This time it did not quite have the bellowing volume as before, but just as startling. I snap my head off my book on bug-type anatomy to look at the clock.

16:50 sharp. 10 minutes for the truck to get here if it does not get here early.

"Shitshitshitshit-" i mutter silently to myself, since mum said curse words are spoken when nobody can hear, as i begin a mad dash to all the two bathrooms in the second floor, grabbing the trash from those before running to the kitchen.

I run into father's disapproving scowl as i enter the kitchen "If you are this mouthy at eleven i don't want to know how you will be like as a teenager."

Thankfully he is sitting at the table reading the newspaper, so i can just ignore him and continue my task, mum is off working at the center like usual and dad is always complaining about his (lack) of work, he should have some spare time to help with the chores.

I am still wearing my pajamas (Hey! Its Saturday i don't gotta go to school!) and with two bags of trash in each hand as i step outside. Fresh Wedgehurst air fills my lungs as I try to keep steady breaths to maintain my sprint towards the street's corner

The sun is feels pleasantly warm as it bathes the little exposed skin my long sleeved dottler pajamas allow, the air is also not very humid, it would be a nice day to be outside if not for me running my legs ragged.

I turn the corner and face the garbage bins. I sling the black bags into the miscellaneous bin before trying to catch the breath that ran away from me in the middle of all this hurry. I don't hear the garbage truck coming, so i have time.

Now that I am listening though, there is this weird clattering noise- I turn to look and there is something poking out of the organics bin. A red tail, segmented, two sharp protrusions and two blunt ones on the sides is wiggling in plain sight as the body of the Pokemon dunked in the bin, they are surely rummaging the insides of it. No idea what kind of 'mon it could be.

I mean, probably a Pokemon and not a hobo with a knife. Pokemon could probably be more dangerous than a hobo with a knife, but i am used to seeing Pokemon in school and dad owns a nickit he keeps in it's ball, so the hobo becomes the scarier option. This, does not mean my next set of actions are very smart, Pokemon, much like people, dislike being bothered by strangers.

However.

"Hey! This is trash, you shouldn't be eating it, you could get sick!" I pull the red tail out of the brown trash bin with both my hands hoping this is not some sort of aggressive dragon i never seen or read about before.

It lets out a startled cry of surprise as it's body becomes un'dunked from the trash "YAN!"

Oh! It's a yanma! The clear wing pokemon, they are usually pretty non-confrontational towards humans and usually run away instead! Great job me!

My internal celebrations are cut off when the insect moves in an attempt to bite me. Thankfully, due to being a constant target during P.E class my reflexes are above average for a child and the Yanma is quite slow for a 'mon renowned for it's speed. Weird, but not unwelcome per se.

I drop it's tail and step backwards, surprising myself when the darter falls to the paved walkway with a pained grunt instead of immediately initiating flight.

"Whoa- i am sorry i didn't mean to dro-" and then i noticed just how awful the little guy(?) looked.

Their two beautiful frontal wings were broken, bending in a way that they were not meant to, its smooth exoskeleton was cracked just beneath their pair of right wings and their cute googly compound eyes were looking off-color from their usual green... maybe poisoning? Oh that was bad.

"Hey you don't look so good-" I was cut off by the bug equivalent of a snarl, clicking of fangs and what seemed like an attempt at using the move gust, before the little guy recoiled on the ground from a painful attempt at using his broken wings.

Okay. Second bad decision of the day. 

"Ok. I am going to pick you up and take you to a Pokemon center" i stepped closer to them, my palms were definitely shaking, but i tried showing them to make it i clear that I was not a threat. I REALLY did not want to lose a finger today. "A Pokemon center is a place where Pokemon get healed for free, get it?" Another step, it could so easily bite the fingers out of my left foot. 

My fear must be either not be clearly apparent, or this yanma has a better grasp of human emotional responses than i do, because they visibly relax, their tail that was once curled pointing its sharp edges at me and their legs stop trying to hold it's body, letting them slump to the ground.

I really hope it's a sign of trust rather then exhaustion.

"Okay! Just let me-" I bend down to scoop him up from the walkway, awkwardly holding onto to it's six legged form, keeping their head straight and praying to Arceus that this is the correct way of holding poisoned Pokemon.

Next thing i do is start the second mad sprint of the day leaving(forgetting) my previous burden on the pavement next to the bins and going straight to the best doctor i know. My mum.

The center she works at is not terribly far away from home, just two blocks away, and while that is just far enough that going to visit her at work counts a nice walk most days, my leg muscles are still puny and they are absolutely going to hurt when the adrenaline dies down.

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The uncomfortable shivers that plague the bug do not help me consider any later consequences of my actions.

I get inside the Center, the cool air-conditioned and artificially lit reception contrasting highly with the sunny warm outside.

"Trent? What is that you got with you? Wait- are you still in pajamas?" The receptionist joy (her off work real true name is Lily, but it's a secret!)

"Hi Joy! Its a yanma, found it like this! Think it's wild, can mum look it over? And yes these are my dottler pattern pajamas!" Honestly i probably got a few stares from people at the streets, but i did not notice them so it's probably fine. I hope. People can be weird about things sometimes.

"Oh yes, this looks bad. We will take it to Dr. Crawler on ER in a jiffy." She gestured to the indeede behind her, the purplish humanoid pokemon's eye's began glowing, making a faint purple light gently wrap around yanma's body. I started speaking before it could begin protesting.

"Hey, you are going to be fine now, mum is gonna take care of you, better than any wild chansey or audino ever could, trust me!" I inject as much cheer as i can into my voice so that little yanma know just how much i trust my mum, and he(?) should trust her too!

Indeede notices the way yanma relaxed after hearing my little spiel (Or maybe yamna just stopped resisting?) And begun levitating him towards a nurse with a wheeled stretcher, wheeling the bug towards ER.

"Hm. I hope they are okay." I speak as i watch the scene unfold.

"Don't worry about it, you did a good job bringing him in when you did kiddo!" Lily (Joy!) told me with a sweet smile, it felt very reassuring. "Here, have 5 credits, go buy yourself a glass of orange juice from the cafeteria as a reward, Im sure your  mum you will want to see you later, today is a very slow day."

My face lighted up at the gift, eagerly taking the banknote from the counter where she laid it. "Thanks auntie Joy!"

--- 20 minutes later ---

Waiting for mum to finish her shift or for her lunch break is a tried thing already, just read some of the magazines Jan sells in the cafeteria. Mum called them "Tabloids" and that i should treat them more like a fiction book then one of my textbooks.

I was just glanced over a section about sightings of a weird jet-black bird Pokemon spewing flames in the old crown tundra, it has a million speculations, varying wildly between something like a super rare shiny charizard and a new galarian form of Moltres. (Ignoring how the legendary birds are unique Kantonian legends and there is 0 chance for there being a second one roaming around, but it's fun to speculate)

It's oddly engrossing, but I am brought back down to earth by a gentle hand caressing my light-green hair.

"Oh. Hi mum!" 

Mum is small, even for a woman. Her hair is darker shade than mine, kept short to make it easier to keep it tied during surgeries, i got my father's green eyes but mum has deep hazel eyes.

I think her face looks kind, but i am biased.

"Hi there little bookworm. Taking up a rescue service in the town now?" She asks with her warm smile and easy going eyes.

People are hard to read, but mom always just looks kind.

"Uh..." that does not mean i know how to respond, however. "Maybe..? I did get paid."

She sighs in response (did i answer wrong?) "Joy really should not be giving orange juice to little kids making reckless decisions."

"Oh." Is all i can really say, this feels like admonishment.

"Oh nothing. This is not a lecture. You did a reckless thing, but it was, like, the fifth best course of action in that situation. You ARE eleven. But try to be more careful next time"

"Oh!" I say, this is not just admonishment anymore!

"Soooooo... do you want to catch the bug?"

And THAT takes me completely by surprise. I was not expecting to be allowed to keep a Pokemon at eleven, much less thought about catching the yanma. Little guy(?) was just hurt. I took him to the center. 

"... Am i allowed to?"

"I already explained the whole situation to your dad. He said as long as it was not a grimer or trubbish, it was okay."

"... 'm only eleven?"

"Your father caught his nickit when he was 9 with a stolen pokeball."

"Does yanma want to?" Because according to Dad, no matter what a human says or does, if a Pokemon does not want to be yours it will not be yours.

Mum smiled back at my question "Do you want to convince him? He's going to be waking up soon."

--- 30 minutes later ---

I am currently in the visitation room in recovery ward of the Pokemon center. Yanma is currently sleeping in a very comfortable armchair-bed thingy made to accommodate most Pokemon body types. 

There are also a machoke, a gurrdurr, a gaggle of five falinks and their respective trainers here. I do not know how they got here, but it must have been funny from the disappointed scowls from their trainers. (They look like dad).

According to mum, Yamna had inhaled dustox toxic scales in concerning amounts and got slammed by more than one of them.

(Dustox are not native to galar and the rangers were called to deal with the problem asap. Shame, dustox are cool.)

It took removing the dust from inside to stop it from clogging it's respiratory system with a metal instrument i forget the name of, applying some antidotes and some ditto cells to fix up the exoskeleton.

It was a lot simpler than I thought it was going to be. It's weird to consider how far ahead Pokemon medicine advanced, when mum says Pokemon and human medicine were on par thirty years ago.

I see Yanma's eyes opening slowly. I am, understandably very nervous about this.

"Hi! I hope you are feeling better." I say conversationally.

"Yaaan~" it sounds sleepy, but affirmative anyhow.

"So, sorry to springload this onto you, but have you ever considered getting a trainer?"

"Yan?" It responds. I am sure that was a question, just have to guess what that question could be. This talking to Pokemon thing is easier than mother made it out to be.

"Its... well. We would be friends first of all. That is the most important part. But there are some... uh... transactional? Yeah that is the word. Transactional aspects to the relationship. But before that... can the two of us be friends?"

The bug Pokemon nods firmly. It does not need have eyebrows to have a determined look on his face (mum confirmed it was a dude), but the pupils beneath those hexagonal patterned eyes tell a lot on their own.

It would be slightly unnerving if it wasn't so legendsdamn cool.

"Awesome! So, that also means i provide you with food, a comfy pokeball and whatever advice my larger-than-most-pokemon's-human-brain can offer."

Yanma viciously nods at each point i make

Cool. This is the hard sell.

"In return you protect me against other pokemon? And battle whenever I want but i am not really that into competitive battling? I still want to go to a journey when I'm 15 tho."

"Yan Yanma!" ... that sounds like an affirmation. But its too long to be just a yes

"Alright, can you repeat that? I am running off of guesswork here."

"Yan Yanma!"

"... one more time, just to make sure i got it." Because I must be interpreting his tone and expression this wrong.

"Yan Yanma!"

"Kay. Just nod your head if you want to tell me that "I was already going to do that whether you wanted or not" ?"

It just nods like i should have expected this outcome.

I laugh, loud and unafraid and a tiny bit awkward. This is the best day of my life so far! 

"You are definitely hasty man. Okay! Then we are trainer and partner now! So you will need a name!"

He tilts his head, uncomprehending.

"Of course, you are not just some yanma now, you are Trent Crawler's yanma! You need a name that is both as cute and cool as you are"

He nods, comprehending. His tail curls just a little higher in what i guess is anticipation?

"So... uh... Oh! What about Goggles? Because of your cool compound eyes!" 

Goggles enthusiastically nods, exclaiming a "Yanma ma!" And blinking rapidly. He likes it!

"Okay then Goggles, you better get used to me, because a friendship with Trent Crawler is a lifelong commitment!"

Then i hugged him, because having friends truly is awesome.