Packing a sewing kit had come in handy.
My hands clumsily held the needle over the torn tent fabric, making a stitch under and over and under again, patching up the hole in the tent flooring.
I winced as the first rays of the sun crested over the horizon and first hit my eyes - waking up at dawn wasn’t that hard, but my mind still needed time to wake up. Our tent was a little closer to the shore this time, giving us a perfect view of the sun reflecting across the sea as it rose. I was sitting on a tree stump, and a sleeping Dunsparce was at my feet, softly snoring.
It had been a few days since Oran Juice the Dunsparce had joined our group. I found that his first reaction to anything new was often flight, which he demonstrated that time by wiggling out of my arms and tearing a hole in my shirt in the process. Another time, a video on my phone playing a little too loudly had him spooked and he had tried to dig down while in the tent with Petal and I.
There was something fascinating about helping a wild pokemon acclimate to human ways. True, the Dunsparce was maybe not the bravest creature, but he was curious and he was crafty; he would dig and hide but just as soon he would peek back to see, and when I gave him a spork to inspect, I saw him maneuver it with his tail and his lips and he carefully, properly used it on a persim.
I don’t know if I trusted him with something as fragile as a computer but I certainly let him play with my phone, sending us down a journey of looking at Dunsparce pictures and telling him how the internet worked. The concept had him truly amazed, and it was clear that he wanted to see more but the tiny tactile screen wasn’t the best fit for his form just yet. Still, this meant that we could watch TV or see recordings and OJ wouldn’t wonder why tiny men and pokemon were stuck in the picture box.
I finished the last stitch on the tent fabric, pulled it taut, then tied off the thread. I held the piece of cloth in front of me and admired my work. Welcoming OJ to the team had been worth it
A rustle from Hau’s tent and the boy sleepily got out, bending forward to touch his toes then arching his back and stretching up like a Meowth. My Dunsparce woke and shot up and dug a few inches into the earth reflexively, then stopped when he saw it was our mutual friend.
“...Morning, cuz’. You up for training?” he finally said, spotting me folding my repaired tent.
“I think so. Coffee?”
Hau and I had a quick breakfast - just some coffee and a few nanab berries - and set out to begin training. For better or for worse, I had agreed for Hau to coach me and help me train my growing team.
So it started with Hau and I running laps.
Jogging is so, so rough on a nerdy girl with no experience. I can only imagine that well-adjusted individuals willingly choose to stop when pain starts to register, whereas one that jogs decides to continue. I’m not a jogger, but under Hau’s counsel, I just kept on running.
Eventually, Hau gracefully motions for me to stop– I fell forward and caught myself, hands on my knees, and I drew heaving, gasping breaths. Petal came up to me, looked at me up and down, then huffed with pride. The grass-type was about to put a leaf on my leg, then noticed the drenched nature of my whole self and reconsidered the motion.
“Huff, puff, eugh,” I gasp out, “Hau, what– what purpose did that– serve?”
“...Come on, cuz, that served a mighty purpose!” Hau’s mood couldn’t seem to get down, and while he spoke to me with a grin, he was just as soaked himself. “You can’t train your mons if you aren’t training yourself!”
I had nothing to say to that - I just laid on the grass in an attempt to fully recover my breath and calm my thundering heart.
Hau said something softly, now kneeling next to a panting Litten who had been running by our side. Loa the Litten looked back at Hau with the same intense look, then nodded, and stood some ways away to practice. She concentrated and embers danced across her fur.
Eventually, I was good to at least sit back up, and Hau began to teach me in earnest.
“...First, you’ll want to figure out the strengths and weaknesses of your team.” He crouched down and gestured at my Oddish who stood head held high in pride. “I’m not gonna pretend I’m an expert in the field. I’m going to assume that this is an outstanding example of Oddish-kind.”
“When we fought, then when I saw you fight, few things stood out: first, Petal knows lots of moves, and those moves are tricky. Poison Powder, that move with the strong-smelling cloud, Leech Seed– I know what you just told me about poison in this route– but clearly it’s one of Petal’s best tools. It got them to fight head to head with Loa after all, and that’s no small feat!”
The Litten bristled slightly at that, sent a mean look our way, then returned to her training.
“But moreover - that trick you got with Leech Seed? That’s mean. I thought that move was a projectile, I had never seen it as some kind of plant growing move. That impairs, that slows down, that’s real good. That brings me to my second point.
“Second: Petal is resilient. Those fights were drawn out, Selene. They either outlasted or outhealed the opponent and that’s a whole fighting style in and of itself. The issue is that if your opponent can ignore your tricks or power through your attacks, your Oddish is defenseless.
“So to summarize: you got a slow grass-type with mean tricks and ways to control the terrain.” He snapped his fingers. “You’ll fail against overwhelming firepower or an enemy that won’t fall for their traps. You need some way to mitigate damage so Petal can stay longer on the field, and they need to come up with some kind of alternate plan; say, like a damaging move that’s snappier to use. Your pick!”
Petal and I blinked together in surprise and confusion– was that the same boy who couldn’t figure out that his Litten had been Leer-ing at him the other day? “Uh-okay? What– uh, what would you recommend?”
“Wellll… Oddishes learn Acid, don’t they? Poison Powder is poison, shouldn’t be too far, right?”
That was true - both were poison-type moves, it made sense that Petal could learn one from the other! Memories of sitting through classes on the matter flickered through my mind, and I couldn’t help but excitedly say “Oh! Of course! So Petal can train a separate aspect of poison Type Energy, or– or maybe they should focus on a different mode of aura expression, instead?”
“...You’re just making things complicated, now. No, none of that.”
Hau sat next to Petal, pulled out his phone, then showed them a video: on it, an unfamiliar Oddish stood facing a Pidgey during some kind of recorded battle in a gym setting. We watched as the foreign Oddish’s expression hardened and it spat a thick spray of acidic slime on the speedy Pidgey, hitting it precisely.
Hau rubbed some of the teen stubble on his chin and said softly to himself, ”Oh yeah, that comes out from the gut alright.” then he gestured at Petal with a hand and just said “Now you just do it!”
I don’t believe it. You can’t just learn a move like that, I thought - but Petal considered the video, eyes narrowed, then focused and spat a glob of purple mush on the ground. Not a Poison Powder, no Acid, but something in between, with the very clear scent of chemicals in the air.
“See? You’re getting it!”
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So it went.
Petal was spitting out Acids in repetition, hitting a sizzling mark on a tree, trying to perfect their aim and quicken their execution.
The Litten running across the field was marking a trail of embers behind herself, her fur coat bursting in flames occasionally in an approximation of a Flame Charge. Not getting there yet, but making an impressive effort - though I could see her frustration really wear her down.
Then Oran Juice the Dunsparce burst out the ground with a cry and a popping sound, propelling himself a few feet in the air.
Hau whistled “Two and a half, maybe three feet high this time. Keep it up, little guy!”
I noted down OJ’s latest performance, and compared it to the rest of his strange skillset.
On the ground, the little serpent slowly slithered as fast as I could leisurely walk. In the ground, however, OJ practically swam through the earth, clocking speeds rivaling the competitive Litten. Barely a rumble could be felt while the Dunsparce tunneled backwards, propelled by the spinning motion of his drill tail. If he dug fast enough, he could even barrel out of the ground and into the air, which led us to the present time.
Next, it took a little bit to convince Oran Juice to show his fighting skills, but promises of his namesake made for a good motivator.
OJ didn’t quite attack as much as he violently hurled his entire Flail-ing self in the opponent’s direction, bursts of sudden movement that seemed uncharacteristic for the normally sluggish snake. His drill could be used to dig, but it could also be used to shove and spray: the Dunsparce spun its whole body and raked the earth with his tail in a demonstration of a Mud Slap. Another tip-tap of my fingers on my phone and this was added to my notes.
I watched for a second as OJ awkwardly hooked his tail into his mouth, rolled in a ball and started to spin across the ground– oh that’s much faster than slithering, neat– when Hau’s wondering aloud brought me out of my thoughts.
“His digging is good, but I don’t think his dig is a Dig, if you see what I mean? When Dig hits– there should be like– an impact. He digs out and it’s more like a soft pop.” The teen considered his words as he looked at my rolling snake with a critical eye.
“Don’t be mean. His dig is just fine,” I couldn’t help but snap back.
“Listen. I’m not dissing your ‘Sparce’s dig. But you gotta admit that attack is a little undercooked. Good for moving around for sure, not a Move quite yet.”
I harrumphed, erased the word ‘Dig’ on my pokemon’s Move list, then wrote it back, then erased it once more. My gaze glazed over in frustration, and I couldn’t help but wander down to an empty section in my document: Stella the cleffa’s list of Moves.
Lilliane wasn’t out of her tent just yet. It took a really long time for her to wake up and clean up, it turned out. At the start of the week, it had been endearing, but after a few days of her clearly putting so much effort in her dress, it was starting to make me feel a little self conscious.
Stolen story; please report.
“Hmm. Hey, Hau,” I looked around, making sure the other girl in our group wasn’t within earshot, “have you seen Stella in battle yet?”
“Lilliane hasn’t given the okay just yet.” He seemed to share in my wariness, and glanced around as well. “She’s got a trial– a badge, though. That Cleffa got battle experience.” His eyes narrowed. “....Right?”
“Probably. We’ve been traveling for just a few days and I really feel like I don’t know her that well.”
“...Yeah. That’s fair.” He rubbed the back of his head, mulling something over. “I don’t feel like I’m connecting with her that much either. Did she tell you anything about… what her hobbies are? What she likes?”
“Theoretical physics and kalosian literature, apparently.”
“Nah, cuz’, that’s school stuff. That sort of stuff you can like if you’re a nerd, but she isn’t one.” He caught me staring at him, held up his hands with a Mareepish look and said “No offense.”
“None taken.” I lied. I did take offense. But the way Hau would call one like me ‘a nerd’ didn’t really feel demeaning, almost familial, so the familiar sting of social anxiety didn’t rear its ugly head on this one.
His hands went back down, and he looked to the side, pensive. “I mean… What is she even passionate about?”
Silence.
“...I can try to find out, but no promises.” I finished.
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We had finally reached Verdant Cavern.
A week and a half of walking north on the coast, ocean at our side, wading through tall grass and wild beaches. The visit to Big Wave Beach had been skipped much to Hau’s displeasure, but we had taken too long with our time. The northern front of Melemele grew steadily mountainous, the idyllic cliffside grassland turning to steeper terrain and shorter brush, the trail growing narrower and narrower until we could glimpse the numerous entrances of Verdant Cavern on the cliffs.
Eventually, Petal could face wild pokemon again, rumors of any links to Ekans dying off. Their aim and shooting speed of Acid was getting better, and they even got to use Poison Powder a few times (provided that the wild pokemon agreed to it, and letting them know that they would get some antidote and food, win or lose). Less and less we fought the usual Bounsweet and Meowth and more and more Yungeese replaced them, all gnashing teeth and slicked fur.
We had met other trainers and teens, fought our share of practice trainer battles and spent time mingling with trial goers; while Hau had been ever the social sort, I didn’t feel like I had made more friends.
There was a point when looking through my funds that I realized I had actually made money, having won more bets than I lost them. OJ wasn’t the strongest battler but of our mons he was the most resilient, and he outlasted his opponent well.
Lilliane still hadn’t sent Stella to fight, yet.
There was a fairly large number of motels nearby (and a dock, a landing pad for flying taxis
and a teleportation service center) for this was as well a popular tourist destination. The site for trial-goers was marked as always with a large wooden arch, carved and painted in the same way our amulets were. There had been a kioske where an attendee took our names and registered us for a trial tomorrow at dusk.
Off we were to sleep at the motel (in a proper made bed, in a room with an actual ceiling for the first time in a week and a half), and tomorrow we would have our first trial.
I didn’t know if I’d be able to sleep, honestly.
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“Dun, dun-dun-dun, dun-sparce–”
“OJ, please, please don’t dig in here,” I rasped out.
The little snake practically vibrated. I couldn’t blame him too much, for our homey motel room had a lot of new stimuli to get spooked by. For one, it was a closed room, for a wild pokemon that had never entered a human home before; and the Dunsparce had yet to learn how to recognize doors.
Petal did what they could to calm down the overwhelmed serpent, speaking softly to him in their squeaky voice and rubbing his back with multiple leaves. Even Stella had taken to the task, pointing at objects in the room and showing how they worked while I hurriedly shed my bags from my wiry frame. Lilliane was right behind me, removing her Sylph Co. shoulder bag and looking at the situation awkwardly.
Looking back to gauge Lilliane’s reaction- she was staring. She was staring and saying nothing. I felt embarrassment rise on my face and heat up my ears at a reaction I couldn’t understand and could only read as negative.
I turned my head back before I lost my cool. I heard the sound of her footsteps as she seemingly disappeared into the bathroom.
“...Okay, hold on. Let me show you around, OJ?” I started, kneeling next to my Dunsparce. “Think of this as… a human nest. It’s ours for the night, and we’re safe in it.”
OJ considered my words, looking around suspiciously, and I saw the drill on his tail start to rev up— “Nuh-uh-uh! It’s ours, but we don’t want to break anything. Making holes or digging won’t make it better.”
The snake slumped.
Footsteps behind me, and Lilliane’s voice took me by surprise.
“Hello, little guy.”
She kneeled next to me, looking at my pokemon. Their eyes met.
“This is a lot to take in,” she stated. “But this is a safe place. Would it make you feel better to get clean?”
The Dunsparce’s vibrating slowed, and I could see the gears turning in his head. Dirt and dust clung to his scales, and while it probably wasn’t unpleasant, OJ also didn’t have a concept of cleanliness.
Getting cleaned is common; step one, find water, step two, bathe in it. However, getting groomed or pampered is a luxury in comparison. Grooming is a social activity, and social activities require friends, which I understood the Dunsparce had little of.
In addition, different pokemon have different needs.It’s a lesson one learns as soon as one has to care to more than two; one would find that the seeds you would feed a Pikipek are tasteless to a newly captured Rockruff, or one would find the pokemon shampoo one would use on a furry friend would do more harm than good on a pokemon with feathers. Food and care is something that one has to adapt to the pokemon they give care for.
I had a Meowth and an Oddish at home, so this was a lesson I knew well. But OJ was new, and so I had much to learn.
Oran Juice’s gaze turned to Petal, who gave a smile, nodded and waved off with a leaf. Next to them, Stella excitedly held up a bottle of pokemon-friendly shampoo in triumph then ran off in the bathroom.
His gaze turned to me. I had only known the little snake for a few days, in comparison to Petal who I knew for years - but I was truly taken aback by the implicit ask of trust granted to me by the Dunsparce. He looked at me intently, eyes darting to Lilliane’s then back to mine.
I didn’t know Lilliane, it turned out. She had helped me out back in Iki Village but that was it. A wall was erected between her and the rest of our group, and I had no idea how to get past it. Maybe this was a chance.
I gave OJ a nod, and tentatively gave him a pat on the head. “Sure, OJ, let’s get you clean.”
----------------------------------------
The scent of shampoo and the feel of hot damp air surrounded us in the motel bathroom. Lilliane and I had cleaned up, and we’d wrapped ourselves in bathrobes while we dried..
I was sitting on the bathroom floor looking through my phone for any information on Dunsparce care, but I wasn’t finding anything too conclusive. Dunsparce was a well documented species but not necessarily the most popular one, and scaled Normal-types weren’t exactly commonplace.
Petal was easy enough to please. They practically took care of themselves, only quickly showering themself (with no soap; no good for Grass-types) and enjoying a thorough scrubbing. Putting in the extra elbow grease really seemed to please them, and they clearly enjoyed how slick it made them look.
Meanwhile, Stella had been properly pampered. Two separate shampoos had been lovingly applied to her short fur coat and she now gleamed, preening under the attention of her trainer. Lilliane gently combed her fur with a fine brush, tracing elegant lines in sweeping moves.
“...I’ve found that skipping conditioner and going for two shampoos actually work best; Stella likes that one better, and for the purpose of taking care of Fairy-types, it seems like going with what’s comfortable trumps over going with what makes sense.”
Lilliane had started talking. I’m not sure how we’d gotten to that point, I had been on autopilot for a bit and I really didn't feel like I had dared to initiate anything, but she was certainly actually telling me about something she cared about.
I blinked repeatedly, and prompted her to say more “Uh– that last bit; what do you mean?”
“Oh! well,” she picked up the bottles of fur product and held them up. “You know, how we use shampoo to clean the hair of dirt and such, and we use conditioner to make it softer.” She put the bottles back down, and gently continued to brush the Cleffa’s fur, as Stella leaned back into her trainer’s touch. “Fairy-types– or rather, the Clefairy line, they don’t care too much about the logistics or the actual physics that happen when soap gets on their fur. There’s something about their nature that simply makes biology or physics stop working properly. What I’ve been taught on the matter gets a little complicated from this point on, but the point is: they look their best when they want to, not because the product worked.”
I know Pokemon came in all shapes and sizes, but this was– “Hold on– physics stop working properly?”
Lilliane turned to me with a wide expression, like I had caught her saying something she shouldn’t have said.
Did I? She couldn’t stop there! She was telling me about cool science stuff! What the heck!
“Uh– I mean,” I stammered expectantly, “So the chemicals in the product don’t have an effect, it only works because they like the feel of it on their fur, or the process?”
“...Yes. That’s right.” Slowly, her face morphed back to a mysterious smile. “A lot of chemical reactions and basic facets of biology don’t really apply to the Clefairy line. For instance, let’s say that a naughty Cleffa’s favorite food is cheesecake, or, say, drinking window cleaner right out the bottle.”
That prompted a surprisingly annoyed “Cle-ffa!!” from Stella who turned to bap her trainer once in the leg.
“Hehe, well, that naughty Cleffa could live off of her favorite food for forever, really, and still get the same health benefits as though she had been eating a more balanced diet. She wouldn’t suffer from poisoning either, because as soon as– come on Stella, it’s just a funny story!”
But the Cleffa didn’t relent, clearly embarrassed by an indirect retelling of a personal story, and she continued to poke her giggling trainer.
Excitedly, I couldn't help but giggle along. “That’s wild! That certainly makes things easier, I imagine.” Unconsciously, my hand drifted to a basking Petal who leaned in to let themself be pet. “It took a bit for Petal and I to… find our footing, I guess. For months after they came in my family’s care, they kept stealing my socks and shoes to bury them!”
Lilliane’s laughter came in as a single, involuntary “Hah!” and a chorus of embarrassing chuckles and snorts, though she couldn’t help the smile on her face. She hid her face behind her hands and between snickers, asked “Whuh- what for? Why??”
“We only figured out way later that they thought I should bury my ‘roots’ in the earth like they do, and my shoes and socks were just getting in the way!” I could feel my plant pokemon roll their eyes under my touch, and their leaves leaned back in embarrassment. “I’m not without my faults, though. There was some incident with, um, uh, disinfectant and antiseptic that got them a quick trip to the Center, so you know, we all make mistakes.”
Despite my sentence trailing into stammering, Lilliane responded on the dot. “Venomorphic system, right? Their body benefits from active bacteria, which alcohol kills?”
“Yeah! Yes, you’re absolutely right!” I couldn’t help the smile across my face - it felt like I never had anybody I could talk science or medicine with. What’s more, Lilliane seemed like she knew more about that stuff than I did! “So uh, Stella, right - the way she suppresses chemical reactions, is that just internal, or is it also external?”
“A little bit of both, I think. Obviously she can drink window cleaner and be fine, so internal is assured, but… hm. There was an incident where she burnt herself on the stove top; she clearly felt the heat and was hurt when it happened, but she didn’t actually gain any burns from it.”
Then, before my brain could stop my mouth, “What about fire originating from a pokemon? Say Stella is struck in a fight. Would she be hurt?”
Lilliane’s mood fell.
“...She still feels pain. She can get hurt, and she can faint. It just doesn’t show on her body.”
“At least it must be reassuring, to know that she’ll be fine after a fight, right?”
A pause.
The blonde’s thoughts, clearly elsewhere.
Silence long enough to be strange.
“I suppose it would.”