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Broken Things
Normal 12: Genesis

Normal 12: Genesis

Normal 1.12: Partners

Genesis

October 13, 2019

Cuicatl pulls the kibble out of her bag and starts to pour it into her tiny collapsible fox food bowl. You walk up and she pours you a handful without missing a beat. “Thank you,” you say. Then you take it to the edge of the clearing and leave it in a small pile.

Wait. Do eevee even eat kibble? Mom never let you have one. You’d assume they’d eat the same thing as vulpix. But eevee also have weird DNA and look kind of like buneary so maybe they’d prefer carrots?

“Do eevee actually like kibble?” you ask.

“How the fuck would I know,” Kekoa answers as he strolls back into the clearing.

You glare at him. He didn’t need to be mean about that. You take your pack off (its light enough you’d honestly forgotten you were even wearing it) and take out your apricot sausage. It’s basically just slices of apricots with little flakes of nuts and vegetables in it. You remember really liking apricots as a kid but now the taste is… weird. Or maybe they’re just over-processed. Still getting used to eating food that doesn’t really taste like food. The Pokémon Centers are usually good about that and fake is better than inedible but sometimes it catches you. It just feels wrong to put junk into your body.

Kekoa tosses you a packet of crackers. He and Cuicatl have small remoraid cans. You’ll definitely pass on that. Even when you ate meat remoraid always just smelled bad. And that texture. And color. It’s more like grey sludge than food. Even the lab stuff is gross. Apparently your companions disagree and Pixie isn’t above slyly begging for some, even if he—she, even if she hasn’t quite figured out how to slyly beg to a blind girl.

Pixie. Vulpixes. Foxes. You glance back to the kibble pile and—Deer. Of Life. There’s a cute, furry, perfect little bunny fox. Right near you. Easy. Calm. Excitement later. You reach down to your belt and slowly unclip Sir Bubble’s ball. You almost shout “Let’s go make a friend!” but wisely decide not to. Sir Bubbles appears in a flash of red light. And immediately starts yipping at you while thumping his tail on the ground. A finger flies to your lips and you point past him. Sir. Bubbles’ eyes just open a little wider and he sinks a little closer to the ground in response, a faint ribbit accompanying the movement.

Something roars. Well, not a roar exactly. More of a high pitch incessant screech that moves up and down like the world’s worst fire alarm. You recoil and look at the—the vulpix causing it. No! Bad! You glance back. The eevee’s running but not quite out of sight in the burned forest. You reach down and grab Sir Bubbles before taking off in pursuit. Eevee are pokémon, sure, but you’ve got much longer legs. You can do this.

“Water gun, Sir Bubbles!” The frog tries to comply, but the shot goes very wide and the eevee just runs a little bit faster. “No! Stop! I’m trying to catch you.”

You keep pace pretty well and even get close enough to think about tackling. But there’s always a root you have to dodge or the eevee gets yet another second wind or something. You almost prefer it that way. With the wind in your hair, Sir Bubbles in your arms, and an eevee in front of you this is the most fun you’ve had in weeks.

Something catches your eye and you come screeching to a halt. Right into a tree root. Which turns the halt into a fall. You move to catch yourself and narrowly do but. Oh crap. You hastily stand back up and look down at your starter as he awkwardly pulls himself up and tries to recover from 135 pounds of girl falling directly onto him. Eventually he looks back up at you, tears in his wide eyes and—this is just a food ploy, isn’t it? Evil bastard.

There’s another movement at the edge of your vision. You freeze up and reach down for Sir Bubble’s ball. It’s still there. Somehow didn’t get knocked out of your belt. You withdraw him as soon as possible and take ten steps back, doing your best to avoid the roots while looking up.

A giant spider floats between the trees, staring down at you with its almost-human eyes. It—no, she, too big for a male—starts to sink ever lower on her thread. You slowly crouch down, keeping eye contact the whole time, and hold a hand out.

“There you are!” Kekoa shouts somewhere behind you. You almost break eye contact with the spider. “Knew you were stupid, didn’t know you were stupid enough to run right off the fucking trail. Now—holy shit.” His voice drops to a whisper at the end.

“Shh!” He’s being too loud. Might scare her. And she’s almost made it to the ground.

“You’re—you can’t be serious. We need to go. Now.”

You want to break eye contact. Glare back at him and tell him to shut up or leave. For once you know what you’re doing.

The ariados approaches with small, tepid steps. You move your arm just a little bit towards her to make sure she sees it.

“I’m calling Hekeli,” Kekoa hisses.

“Hi, there,” you whisper. “You want scratches?”

The ariados chitters and walks right up to you, stinger close to your heart when you’re crouched down at her level. You bend your arm and guide your hand to a small little chink in the spider’s exoskeleton where the head meets the body. You press a fingernail in and scratch, running it up and down the groove. The spider clicks her mandibles together in contentment and you put a little bit more force into the petting.

“What the actual fuck,” Kekoa says at an appropriately low volume. The ariados takes a step to the side to look at him. He immediately hops back and keeps walking away, putting as much distance as possible between him and the man-sized spider. You suppress a sigh and pat the ariados on the back before rising to your feet.

“Had one as a pet. They’re harmless to humans.”

But not to—you glance out into the forest. It takes you a second to find it but there’s a thin, almost invisible thread running from the web out into the burned woods. The eevee’s on the other end. At night the ariados will follow the line and eat the fox and maybe its entire family. You need to save it.

The ariados has already retreated back to her web and is steadily climbing up it, ignoring you as she rises. “Follow me!” you whisper.

You turn to follow the wire and save your furry future friend. A hand grabs your arm and pulls back. Hard. “No,” Kekoa hisses back. “The eevee’s long gone and we are not going so far off the trail that we can’t hear Kiwi shouting.”

You pout. “The ariados is going to eat it.”

“I thought you liked the things? What do you want to starve it for?”

He’s looking at you like you’re an idiot and it’s your fault and he really wants to be somewhere else right now. “Yeah but…” The image of it. You’re fine if the spider’s eating kibble or even yungoos, but when it’s something cute that feels different. Especially if you could have stopped the death and didn’t. That’s almost like you personally poisoned the eevee and slowly tore it apart.

“Yeah, but…” Kekoa smirks and tilts his head. “Brilliant argument there.”

Screw him. Smug, heartless jerk.

“Shut up.” You start walking back the way he came, sparing the ariados one last glance. She’s already retreated into the chamber at the center of her web.

Once you’re far enough away that Kekoa stops glancing back every few seconds he turns to you with a particularly smug smile on his face. “So. Pet ariados?”

You lock up and almost trip. He snickers. Crap. You revealed something you shouldn’t have. Now, um, play it cool. “Yeah. I had one.”

“Any reason?”

You shrug and do your best to keep your voice level. “Not really.”

For a moment you’re absolutely certain that he knows and is going to hate you forever, but he never follows up. It’s almost worse that way. He could still know and just be lording it over you until he has a better time to strike.

No. Screw him. He doesn’t get to ruin your journey. If only because the ever-present dirt and burned trees and over-processed food and dead eevee beat him to it.

*

November 2, 2019

Of course it had to rain. Because if Kekoa and Cuicatl are going to play nice something else has to spoil the fun. Not that the hills weren’t already doing that. You stare up at the last switchback. Or what Kekoa tells you is the last switchback. She could definitely be lying about that. You pull the straps on your pack tighter and take off as fast as you can. The surface of the path is slick, more mud than dirt in some places and once or twice you almost feel like you’re going to trip and tumble all the way back down. The thought is sobering enough that you take the last two bends at just a brisk walk. You glance down. Cuicatl’s slowly making her way up with the help of a long branch she found somewhere (she said she didn’t want to get her cane dirty and it wasn’t good for putting weight on anyway). Kekoa’s trailing behind her. You hear wings beat nearby and you turn just in time to see Kekoa’s pikipek land on your shoulder. Cheating little miss. Must be nice to skip the switchbacks and fly straight up.

By the time Cuicatl and Kekoa catch up you’re ready to move on. Cuicatl isn’t. The moment you set off she tells you to stop. She’s panting a little bit. Weird. Her arm and leg muscles are actually kind of distinct. Wouldn’t peg her as an athlete but you’d expected her to be in shape. “You okay?” you ask.

“Asthma,” she huffs out. “Only bad. On climbs. Legs. Are fine.”

“Okay,” you answer. Because what else were you going to say? ‘No, we move right now young lady. You can breathe on your own time.’ Mother actually might. You fight the urge to scrunch up your face and put your hands on your hips and lecture the wind in character. ‘Disgusting. Real women don’t pant like mere animals.’ You actually do whisper that but neither Kekoa nor Cuicatl seems to notice.

You wait in silence as your friend’s breaths slow and deepen. Cuicatl didn’t bother to tie back her hair and its plastered over her face with individual strands reaching down almost all the way to her mouth. You can’t see her eyes at all. Her hair looks longer than usual with the weight of the water straightening out her curls. Kekoa just scowls at you when you look towards her. Right. Water. Clothing. Chest. It’s embarrassing that you thought those were pecs. From what Reverend Patterson said you’d kind of just expected that you’d instantly know when you met someone like her. But you’ve always been slow to figure people out. Lyra would have instantly known.

Cuicatl finally sticks up a finger. “I’m fine.”

You pivot and start walking. The pivot isn’t anywhere nearly as smooth as hers are. She can turn 180 degrees in a single fluid motion and then start walking. You can sort of turn most of that distance in a spin and a step. You still aren’t entirely sure what your back foot should be doing or how fast you’re supposed to spin or when you put both feet down. Can you ask? Would she think it was weird? How did she even learn to do that? Boot camp? It would make sense. Her pivots seem kind of military-like.

“How early do they start military training in Anahuac?” you ask her. That’s not inappropriate, right?

“Depends. Some stuff in early education when you’re six or so. That’s mostly just exercise and some basic pokémon stuff. Progressively more as the years go on. Proper training is at sixteen. Unless you go into the calmecac. Or you’re a girl. Or disabled.”

Oh. Right. Blind girls probably aren’t on the front lines.

“Doesn’t even make sense,” Kekoa mutters. Well, the type of muttering that’s meant for other people to hear. “If pokémon and guns do all the work then why can’t girls fight?”

Cuicatl hums for a moment. “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense. But it does get me out of the draft.”

The right answer is that women were tainted more by Yveltal at the start. If they were to fight on the battlefield they would overflow with sin and corruption. If they survived the war they would only cause tragedy if they went home. Dead children, ruined families, burned homes. Sometimes they even start all new wars. But you can’t really say that. Cuicatl believes in the evil spirits of her homeland and eventually you’ll need to have a talk with her so that she isn’t engulfed in the cocoon at the end of the universe. And Kekoa will need to get the whole crossdressing thing sorted out eventually. But you should probably wait until they like you more before you save their souls. Neither are likely to die in the next week.

…right?

Did you just jinx it?

You enter a forest and the rain dies down a little. Downside is that now there are tree roots in the trail. For you it’s just kind of annoying. But it’ll slow Cuicatl down a lot which also slows you down a lot. And she can’t even use Pixie because it’s raining and with her fur matted down the fox looks very small and extremely upset.

“You have a brother, right?” Kekoa asks.

“Yes,” Cuicatl says.

“Yes,” you say. Near simultaneously.

“Meant Cuicatl there. How old is he?”

“Fifteen. How far do we have to go?”

“Probably ten minutes,” Kekoa answers.

Wait. She’s fifteen. Holy crap. “You’re twins?”

“Yes.”

Wow. Brother-sister twins. Which one’s older? Do they care? You kind of wish you were a twin so that you always had a sibling to play with and talk about things that you’re interested in. You love Levi but he’s way younger than you and Exodus—

Exodus is Exodus and this line of thought is over.

*

November 3, 2019

“You’re vegetarian, right?” Kekoa asks between mouthfuls of chili. Why ask? He knows you are. It’s come up at every trail meal planning session. You ignore the pointless question in favor of eating your own vegetable soup. “And you want to get an… a rainbowfish?”

Pixie doesn’t bark. She hasn’t caught on to the code yet.

“Yes.”

“But you know they eat meat, right?”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“I do,” you respond.

“And that’s fine with you?”

“It’s all lab meat anyway.”

She scoffs. “Can’t be sure of that. Meat processing plants have been caught lying before.”

You didn’t know that. You do know that your parents tried to give you real meat claiming it was lab meat so many times that you just swore that off, too.

“Every time you’d give your precious rainbowfish some kibble you’d get flashes of a poor little fox on a string.”

That’s…

“Kekoa,” Cuicatl admonishes. She sets down her spoon and glares in his general direction. “I don’t know what’s going on between you but we are not talking shit about foxes.” She glances down. “Isn’t that right, Pix?”

She dutifully grunts at an acceptable indoor volume. Such a good girl.

Kekoa takes a long drink of water and smiles at you in a way that is not at all pleasant. “If you’re going to train a carnivore you should at least be honest about what you’re doing. Just saying.”

She winks at you.

You’re starting to understand why Cuicatl hated her.

*

November 3, 2019

Kekoa sets her package down on the desk at the back of the room and starts to unzip it.

“What is it?” you ask.

“An egg.”

It’s a darn big egg, then. A little bit bigger than Pixie is. Heavy, too, judging from the way Kekoa carried it.

“How big?” Cuicatl asks.

“Big,” he answers.

“Yeah, but how big?”

Kekoa sighs and walks over to grab her hand. “You want to grope it?”

“You know it.” Once she reaches the egg Cuicatl slowly runs her fingers over it from middle to top to bottom. “It is big.” She steadily presses down her palm and holds it still on the middle. “Feels sturdy. Not too hot. Pretty smooth. Rules out the rocks.”

“It’s heavy but it didn’t feel rock heavy,” Kekoa answers.

Cuicatl nods. “Fish, insects, and amphibians are out. Bird? Lizard? Maybe a dragon given the size. Maybe. Most don’t lay eggs.”

“A mammal?” Both Kekoa and Cuicatl turn to look at you. Was that too stupid? “Some lay eggs.”

“Some do.” Cuicatl goes back to facing the egg. “It would be very big for one. Blissey eggs are about half the size.” Wait are those actual eggs. Fertilized eggs? How? They’re all girls. When people eat them is that murder? Cuicatl holds her hand back out. “Take me back?”

Kekoa helps her get back to her seat. “What’s the judgment, doc?” he asks. Taunts? Praises? Hard to say. You’d thought they’d made up.

“No idea.” Cuicatl sighs. “Druddigon, maybe? I’ve never felt a druddigon egg before but the adults are big enough. Egg’s not warm enough for charizard. I think goodra eggs are sticky but don’t quote me on that. Don’t know if flygon lay eggs. Braviary or mandibuzz maybe. Don’t actually know what krookodile eggs feel like. Grew up too far south of the desert to know. If it’s not from Alola it could be anything. Bunch of weird birds and giant lizards out there.”

Wait hang on did she imply that if she was born further north she would’ve tried to walk right up to a momma krookodile? She isn’t serious, right?

Right?

…right?

Darn it she probably is. How are you supposed to keep everyone alive with stuff like this?

*

A tall teenage girl in overalls and a worn leather jacket walks into the lobby.

“Which ones of all y’all are looking to challenge my trial?”

She’s the trial captain. It makes sense. She’s dressed kind of outdoorsy. Like she lived on a ranch down in Paniola or something. That works for normal types, right?

You look around. Two preteen kids in the corner raise your hands. You put yours up and your teammates follow. The girl nods her head and walks over to the younger trainers. Oh boy. First trial. It feels real all of a sudden. You’re going to be fighting a—well, you know it’s a normal trial but you’ve honestly never bothered to look up what the totem is. That’s a job for future Genesis. In any case you’re going to fight a giant version of a pokémon with a poliwag.

…maybe you should’ve thought this through earlier. Even if he is a very brave poliwag. Gallantly chickens out like the best. Not at all afraid to be killed in nasty ways. Brave, brave Sir Bubbles.

The captain walks over. “Alright, how many official trails have y’all cleared?”

“None,” Cuicatl answers.

Is that a problem? The captain smiles. Probably not a problem, then.

“Alright. Any days work best for you?”

You glance at your teammates. Do they have any they prefer? You really should’ve talked this over in advance as a group.

“Can I have a few days? I think I need to prepare a little more.” It’s an honest answer. Hopefully she doesn’t hate you.

“Very self-aware.” Compliments? Fake compliments? Did you screw up? “I’ll schedule you for Friday. You two?” She moves on without answering your question.

“Can I do Wednesday?” Cuicatl asks.

“Certainly. And you, sir?”

Well at least you aren’t the only person Kekoa can fool. Or does the captain already know in advance?

“Tomorrow,” Kekoa answers. “And it’s good to see you again, Kanoa.”

The captain, Kanoa, blinks. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I remember you. Meet a lot of people as captain.”

Kekoa tenses and raises up his shoulders before letting out a breath. “I used to go by Allana.”

“Holy shit, Al—wait, what do you go by now?”

“Kekoa.”

“Thanks. Holy shit, Kekoa. How have you been?” She’s still smiling but there’s a trace of something else—sadness or concern, maybe—in her eyes. “You just stopped writing all of a sudden and—” Her eyes narrow. “What happened?”

“Foster care.” Kekoa—Allana—looks up and makes eye contact with Kanoa. “Can we talk about this later? Alone?”

The captain nods. “Lunch? There’s a great Korean place a couple miles down the road. I can give you a ride.”

“Can you pay? I’m broke right now.”

Kanoa’s smile returns.

“I can. You want to head out now?”

Allana stands up. “Don’t see a reason not to.”

They leave. Weird to think of her having friends. Maybe she was nicer in the past. Or maybe someone latched onto her even though she wasn’t good with people. Like… like her.

You turn to Cuicatl.

“I think I need a second pokémon.”

She nods. “Do you know what you want?”

“No.” Because of course you haven’t planned anything. You’d kind of expected that Father would’ve told Mother off by now and invited you back. But here you are. Haven’t received so much as a phone call. Not that they know your phone number. Wait, what if they can’t contact you? Admittedly you haven’t checked your old emails. Or social media. You don’t really want to know what’s being said about you.

“Maybe we should start at a shelter then. Can you check and see if there’s one nearby?”

There is one two miles away. Not a terrible walk all things considered.

*

It is, all things considered, a terrible walk. Unshaded roads in in the afternoon Alola sun are absolutely miserable. By the time you reach the shelter you’ve probably sweated out all the water in your body. Cuicatl seems a little better, doesn’t look like she’s had an asthma attack or anything, but she’s also drenched.

Shelter looks like a nice enough place. Big fence around it that probably has some outside habitats. You can look into two: one is an aviary with two dartrix and the other is just a normal pen with a midday lycanroc. It looks at you with a regal gaze as you pass before sticking its tongue out and rolling over, apparently wanting you to come over and scratch it through the fence. You wish you could. Maybe you could adopt it? Seems like a good dog. But the meat thing. Or do they eat rocks?

You walk in the door and a bell rings. The inside has sterile white walls with small cages lining them. You see a litten stand up and press his paws against the cage wall. What a cutie.

“Can I help you?”

You turn to the desk. There’s a twenty-something man there. Looking at you. Right.

“I want to adopt a pokémon.”

“Certainly.” He smiles and looks at Cuicatl. “And you?”

There’s no response. She’s facing the far wall away from the receptionist. He can’t see her closed or cloudy eyes.

“She’s just tagging along,” you answer for her.

“Alright. Anything in particular you want?”

You start to shake your head but then catch yourself. “Is the lycanroc out there up for adoption?” Wait. It’s at a shelter. Of course it is. So dumb of you.

If he notices he doesn’t seem to care. “She is.” Yes! “Now, what license do you have?” Oh…

“Class II.”

The receptionist sighs and leans into the desk. “Sorry. Need a IV. Edelgard’s a big softy but most lycanroc don’t take well to new trainers.” …crap.

You turn back to the receptionist. One more question. Even if the… unfortunate meat problem remains you think it’s okay to save one fox to make up for the one you killed. “Any chance you’ve got an eevee?”

He shakes his head. “Sorry. No eevee. We do have a leafeon, though.”

Plant eevee. You would’ve preferred water, fire, or fairy eevee. Wait? Do plant eevee eat meat? Or do they eat plants? Is that kind of cannibalism? Questions for later.

“Can I see it?”

The receptionist smiles. “Certainly. I’ll just need some of your information…”

*

The leafeon is curled up on the table. It glances at you as you walk in and then quickly resumes licking its paw. Oh. You aren’t too interesting, huh?

“What’s its story?” you ask.

“His name’s Inferno,” the receptionist—his nametag says Alan—says. “Trainer wanted a flareon. His eevee evolved in the forest. He left him here with us.” He hesitates. “That kind of thing happens a lot around the forest.”

A beloved pet until he didn’t turn out exactly how his parents wanted. You can almost hear Exodus spit the words out, taunting you from the sick comfort of her twisted worldview. You should call her eventually. Not today, though. Probably not this week. Or this month. Might get around to it on her birthday. If you remember when that is. You’re pretty sure it’s in May. The fifth? Sounds about right.

You gently extend your hand towards Inferno. He stares at it for a moment before getting up and rubbing his cheek against it. When he moves you catch the scent of freshly cut grass. And he is a little plant doggo with a leaf tail and ears and little blades of grass sticking out everywhere. Kind of cute in his own way. You scratch him under the chin and you think you can hear her purr.

“How hard are leafeon to care for?” you ask.

“They need time in the sun, fruit and nuts. An egg once a week.” Eggs are fine! Nothing dies for them. “Affectionate. But that means that their smell gets all over everything. Trainer included.” Was that a joke? Should you laugh. You do just in case you were supposed to. Wait, does that mean that he thinks you’re laughing at him? “They’re easily housebroken. Reasonably intelligent. Great air filters. My personal favorite eeveelution. But,” he sighs and holds his hands up in (mock) surrender, “I’ve got two at home so I suppose I’m biased.” You stop petting Inferno and he fixes his big red eyes on you. Aww. She’s almost as cute as Pixie. “Can say that they don’t like to fight much. They’ll participate in the big battles, but they won’t really train.”

Well, you don’t really train either. Honestly, you’re just looking for enough power to beat the trial and move on to the next one. You’ll figure that one out when you get to it. “Is he strong enough to take on the first trial?” you ask.

Alan rolls his eyes. Did you mess up? Insult him? “Oh, they’re plenty powerful when they put their mind to it. Good enough to clear the early trials without much work. If you can get him to train then he’ll be good for the later ones, too.”

That’s good enough for you. And he’s very cute. And seems to like you. And you do feel bad for him. Not his fault that he’s a plant instead of a fire fox.

“And they don’t eat meat?”

“They need protein. Eggs or poultry, take your pick.”

Well. He’s close enough to perfect.

*

Pixie’s buried in the blankets on Cuicatl’s bed when you walk in. Her ears instantly perk up and she rises to her feet. Then she freezes (figuratively and sort of literally) in place, ears back down and tails tensed up. A sort-of-low and sort-of-intimidating growl rings out as she stares down Inferno. The leafeon just sits down and swishes her tail. Cuicatl steps forwards towards her bed, cane in front of her. You think that all Pokémon Center rooms are pretty much the same so someday she’ll get pretty good at this.

“Pix.” It’s not quite a reprimand. Maybe a warning? “That’s Inferno. She’s going to be on Genesis’s team. Not ours.” She sits down on the bed and Pixie stops growling to turn to pout at her trainer. Cuicatl extends a hand but Pixie doesn’t accept the petting. Cuicatl just leans back against the wall, apparently unphased. “You won’t have to work with him or battle alongside him. I will not be caring for him or getting an eevee myself.”

Pixie keeps staring Cuicatl down to no effect. The trainer closes her eyes and almost seems to nod off while sitting down. “Hey, Genesis?”

“Um, yeah?”

She opens her eyes and tilts her head. “Any chance that you’d let Pixie have a battle with your leafeon? No orders from either trainer?”

Ice fox has a type advantage over grass fox. But Adam said that leafeon are really strong and Pixie… isn’t. Maybe it is fair? “Why?” you ask.

“To give a demonstration.”

Cryptic. She probably knows what she’s doing though. Cuicatl’s good with pokémon. Really good.

*

Inferno shakes himself off and the few ice crystals that hit him go flying away. The field is bathed in red light as Pixie is withdrawn. There are thin lines of blood on the field where the razor leaf attack hit. Cuicatl turns around and starts walking in the direction of the Center.

“Don’t think Pix’ll be much of a problem anymore. Congrats on the new pokémon.”

*

November 7, 2019

Allana opens up the door and walks in with enough spring in her step that you can already tell what she has to say. “Guess what I just got?” She flashes you her new Normalium-Z in case you had any doubt.

“Congratulations,” Cuicatl replies. She sits up and smirks. “Now be a good lab rattata and tell me what to expect.” What. No. That’s really, really rude. Why?

Allana just rolls her eyes and sits down on her bed. “What, you’re Professor Slowking now?”

“Oh please,” Cuicatl turns up her nose and shuts her eyes. “A dragon doesn’t need a clam to rule.”

“Aren’t you a little small for a dragon?”

“For now.”

Allana rolls her eyes. “And someday you’re going to force me to get off my ass and go on a great quest?”

“You may try to rescue the noble Princess Genesis.” Your heart flutters. Do they have daydreams, too? “But I assure you that you will fail.”

“Why can’t I be a knight?” you ask. You’d always seen yourself as one in your daydreams. Being a princess… was less of a fantasy. “Or at least a knight and a princess.”

“Fine. I, the mighty dragon, am holding knight-slash-princess Genesis captive. And you, Sir Kekoa, will fall like all the rest.” She drops her arms and leans back against the wall. “Seriously, how’d it go?”

“Tell you when you win.”

“Ass.” Cuicatl crashes back down onto her bed and Pixie jumps up in surprise at her feet.

Can you ask to keep… playing? She seems done and you didn’t really understand what was going on. Maybe sometime in the future you can see if you can bring it up.

*

“You’re seriously going alone?” Cuicatl asks.

“Not alone,” Allana answers. “I’ll have my pokémon.”

“Can’t you just wait two days until I can join you?”

“No. it’s going to rain tonight and castform are rare enough that we need every chance to catch one we can get.”

Cuicatl glares at her. “You’re going into unfamiliar woods alone, at night, in the rain.”

“Yes.” Allana meets her glare. “I am.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d like to know that we’ll be able to eat on the next mission.”

“Already taken care of.” Cuicatl folds her arms and leans back. “You both made $100 from your paras. Soon that will be $180 or $200.”

“Jenny just blew fifty bucks on an eevee.”

“Came from my personal funds.” If she’s going to bash you, you’re free to jump in. “Still over $100 ahead after it.”

Allana walks over to face you. “There are no personal funds until food is secure.”

“In any case,” Cuicatl interjects, “that covers rice, vegetables, pads, tampons, and purification tablets. And there will be more chances to make money next mission.”

“Yeah, well. What about pokéballs?” Allana starts pacing across the room. “What about potions? What about kibble, insects, moss, birdseed and whatever else the pokémon need? What if the tent rips? What if we want a bigger one?” She stops and crouches down in front of Cuicatl’s bed, hands on her thighs. “I will take some risks if it keeps us from having to ask those questions.”

“I’ll go,” you add.

“No,” Allana and Cuicatl say in unison. Allana continues: “You can’t go until you clear the trial.”

Oh. That’s why Cuicatl isn’t going. Not the blindness thing. Because blindness wouldn’t really matter at night.

Cuicatl sighs. “At least take Inferno.”

“What?” Allana asks.

What? Why? Why take him? Why is Cuicatl dragging you back into this?

“Because Pixie will revolt if I send her into a tropical rainforest during a storm, but a leafeon will be comfortable and capable of guiding you around.”

Oh. That actually does make a lot of sense. You nudge Inferno awake and she glances up at you with a look of absolute betrayal in her eyes. Yes. You should’ve let her sleep. You’re a monster. You stroke her cheek to see if that helps redeem you in his eyes.

It does.

“You want to go help…” Her? Him? You don’t want to offend Allana. You don’t want to offend Xerneas. “…my friend. In the rainforest. Tonight.” Inferno keeps staring at you with dull, sleepy eyes before he finally stands up and shakes himself off. His fresh grass scent becomes very powerful before he leaps down and gracefully trots over to Allana. You hear Pixie growl in response and see her ears perk up before her trainer presses them down and begins a thorough petting.

“Just try to stay safe, alright?” Cuicatl asks.

“Heh. Not much point in getting the money if I’m too dead to spend it, right?”

“…right.”

Something in Cuicatl’s expression tells you she’s not entirely convinced.

*

November 9, 2019

“So… you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Cuicatl is sprawled out on her bed, one hand petting Pixie and the other hanging over the side. Ce’s resting on her ankles while Pixie’s curled up on her chest glaring at Inferno. Or you. Probably Inferno.

You close your eyes and say a quick prayer for guidance so that you don’t say the wrong thing here. “You can always just retry later on.”

Cuicatl turns her head to (not) look at you. “I got the Z-crystal.”

“Then why are you sad?”

“Headache.”

Again?! She just got one at Brooklet Hill? And is this in the same caliber? You really hope not. The last one looked absolutely miserable and she was hours away from having a nurse give her a checkup however much she insisted he was fine.

“You want an aspirin?” you politely ask as you move to get one.

“Wouldn’t help,” she answers.

She said that last time. At the time you bought the line but since then you realized that she was too poor to afford one before and she didn’t actually know what they are. You’re going to offer her a way to accept it with dignity. After fishing one out of the first aid kit you step into the bathroom to get her a cup of water to take it with. Once you have everything you set the cup down on the floor and slip the aspirin into her dangling hand.

Cuicatl wraps her palm around it and smiles. “Thank you.” She takes the pill. Praise to Xerneas. “This is just a headache, though. Last time was a migraine. Give me a few hours and I’ll be good enough to castform hunt.”

*

Allana walks in with Inferno trailing behind her. She stops at the door but your leafeon keeps trotting over until she reaches your bed. Then she tenses and jumps up to the top bunk in one movement. You scratch him at the base of his leaf because good jump. She smells like grass after the rain and there’s no mud on her. Allana’s getting better at giving him baths. Wait. “Where’s Cuicatl?”

“Slipped on some mud. Tripped and sprained her ankle.” Oh crap. “Nurse says she should be able to walk on it in a few days. Fully healed in two weeks.”

An unpleasant possibility flashes into your mind. “Did you trip her again?”

“No.” She dips her head and looks away. “I don’t do that stuff anymore.”

It’s been less than three weeks. Is that really enough time to change?

“Uh huh.”

She picks some clothes off of her bed and walks towards the bathroom door. “I saw a castform. Once you clear your trial I know where we should look.” Already thinking about that when your friend is hurt? Allana stops with her hand on the doorknob and lets her fingers slide off as she turns back towards you. “Her pride’s hurt. I don’t need to tell you to be nice but.” She sighs and turns back towards the door. “If I’m being a dick call me out.”

She slides into the bathroom and turns on the shower before you can really process that.

Huh.

Maybe she has changed?