Three weeks passed and the harvest was mostly taken in. Dean had long since left town but promised to come and visit at Christmas along with his family. His standing as Takahiro Himada’s best friend made him essentially family as far as the elder Oak was concerned. The Rogers family had to join them during the holiday season and tell them happier stories of his escapades with Sammy’s late father. The adults had insisted on it. Sammy wasn’t sure; not that he had time to dwell on it.
Dean left a void that had been filled by a veritable swarm of League representatives who had descended upon Pallet Town. A flurry of new projects sprung up in their wake and there was a general undercurrent of grumbling throughout the town. Many of the older families resented their presence. They hadn’t needed the League before and they sure didn’t need them now. Most of their complaints stayed as mere grumbling, however, as everyone could sense that change had come and there was no stopping it. The new PokeMart was going to be too nice to really complain about. No more day-long trips to Pewter to pick up the things that couldn’t be found locally.
With one of the silos completely full and the majority of the harvest taken in, Sammy’s absence from school could no longer be justified. He had dreaded this moment. Sammy knew what awaited him. He tried to steel himself to the inevitable, but it still came crashing into him.
Literally.
“Saaaaaaam!” Aggie drew out his name as she flew through the air and tackled the poor boy in a rib-shattering hug that left them both sprawling on the ground. “What the hell happened? I heard that you fought a Raticate! Is Crescent ok? Did you really meet a Trainer? Did he really teach you how to fight? He had a Machoke, right?”
Sammy tried to mumble an answer, but Aggie’s sweater sleeve was in his mouth.
“How the hell did you live through that? Why the hell did you even go? How did you convince your grandfather to let you? Where is Crescent, anyway?”
Spitting the woolen sleeve away, Sammy pushed the girl off of him and finally managed to get in a word edgewise. “Get OFF me, Aggie! I’m fine!” He scrambled to his feet and tried in vain to dust himself off. Miss Summers would not be happy to see that his jacket now had a hole in it. Sammy grimaced and spoke loudly over the still questioning girl. “I did what I had to do. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yeah, sorta. Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “I lived because they weren’t normal Rattata and because Crescent protected me. Because I had to. I don’t know, he just looked at me and let it happen. I don’t know what Gramps is thinking sometimes, but I guess he thought I could do it. Crescent is at home because Dean said it was a bad idea. I don’t have a ball to keep him in and apparently there are laws against that, so he has to stay at home until we can get him a ball.” Sammy sucked in air, having depleted his supply by rambling through his entire explanation in one go.
The moment's pause proved to have been a mistake as Aggie proceeded to continue pestering him with questions until the bell above the schoolhouse struck 7am and all of the children began tromping their way inside. Not willing to let the matter entirely pass, Aggie fired one final question as they crossed the threshold.
“Why didn’t you ask me to go with you?”
Sammy didn’t have an answer for that. In fact, the question just served to confuse him as he didn’t even know why Aggie would even want to have gone with him. It gnawed away at him for the entire morning. By lunchtime Sammy could not have told anyone what exactly had been taught due to the distracting thoughts and was exceedingly glad to have an onion and cabbage piroshki to distract him.
The first bite was always the best. Even cold, the spices that Miss Summers used were perfect. If Sammy was being honest with himself, what little that he could remember of his mother’s cooking paled in comparison to what the overbearing housekeeper could whip up. Fried bread crackled and crunched to mix tantalizingly with the soft vegetables within. A hint of dill wafted over Sammy’s tongue and kept his taste buds refreshed and ready for the next bite. He savored the taste, chewing slowly so as to absorb every tiny bit of flavor that the bite offered. So absorbed was Sammy in his lunch that he didn’t hear the approaching footsteps.
Grant Cheery was anything but his namesake. A relative giant, Grant was by far the tallest boy that attended Pallet Town’s school. Heavyset enough to practically ripple as he walked with enough musculature to hold himself upright, Grant was absolutely massive. To top off his prodigious size, the boy had an ego to match that frequently had him at odds with Aggie (and Sammy by association). Being the son of the sole lumber mill’s owner, Grant always acted as if he had a chip on his shoulder and looked like he was constantly smelling shit.
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Within the obese child’s shadow lurked his ever-faithful stooges. Croney Crane was all too aware of his first name and stuck to Grant like glue. His squawking voice grated on the nerves and was made worse by the fact he often repeated the last thing his “boss” said like an annoying lovechild between a Wingull and a broken record player. Likewise, Obediah Himura always had a simpering gaze for Grant. His eyes boggled like a Caterpie's and Sammy had often feared that they might just burst out of his skull when angry. It was these three boys that Aggie had beat up when Sammy first met her, and none of them had quite forgotten it.
“Lookit who’s back, boys. Samuel Himada, hero of Pallet Town.”
“Yeah, lookit who's back!”
The second and third bites of piroshki was just as good as the first, Sammy thought to himself.
“You think you're some kinda bigshot now that you managed to fight a rat, huh?”
“Just a rat!”
Were the onions particularly sweet today, or did Miss Summers cut back on the salt for Grandpa's health?
“Some kinda hero you are. You had a Trainer with you the whole time.”
“The whooooooole time!”
Sammy swallowed the rest of his lunch. He was thirsty now, but wanted to savor the taste a bit longer before having something to drink. Besides, there was a line for the faucet, so he might as well wait.
“Oh, my daddy died a hero, so I had to be one too!”
“Hah! Just like daddy!”
Grant's cheek was a lot softer than Sammy expected. His balled fist sank into the yielding flesh easily before practically bouncing back as Grant fell to the frosted grass. Not willing to sacrifice the element of surprise, Sammy leapt on the boy's chest and began to wail down blow after blow. However, even with the advantageous position, Sammy found most of his punches blocked by meaty arms. It was over all too soon once Croney and Obediah managed to get over their initial shock and join the fray.
Each grabbed one of Sammy's arms and hauled him off the larger boy before Croney delivered a knee straight to Sammy's stomach. Retching and wheezing from the sudden reappearance of Miss Summer’s lovingly made piroshki, Sammy could do nothing as Grant rolled to his feet and started returning the earlier favor.
His ears rang and his vision swam. His jaw clicked when Grant landed a particularly nasty blow to his chin. He gasped as what little air he could suck into his lungs was driven out forcefully. But as Grant stepped back to deliver the final devastating haymaker, Sammy spotted the sun-bleached blonde bob that signaled his rescue racing up from behind the boy.
Both of Aggie’s feet landed squarely in the middle of Grant’s back. Caught off-guard for a second time, Grant crashed into Sammy and the two holding him in place. Caught between a cannonball and the ground, Sammy was pinned even further and saw stars as the back of his head impacted the ground. Thankfully, his status of being sandwiched was merely temporary as Aggie immediately kicked Grant in his plentiful rear with contemptuous glee, sending the boy tumbling head over heels and into the staggering Croney.
“What the hell did I tell you, Grant? Fuck with me or Sammy and I'll kick your ass!” Aggie was in rare form today as she stood protectively over Sammy’s hunched form. “You ain't got the guts to stand up to me, so you gang up on him? You overgrown Jigglypuff, I oughta just keep hitting you until we can't see your face no more!”
Grant simply groaned in response and clutched at his tailbone. At least that was what Sammy thought he was attempting to do. It was hard to tell when Grant’s arms seemed to be attached to his rolling love handles. Just as Aggie was about to finish her diatribe of threats, a shrill scream of wrath echoed from the doorway of the schoolhouse.
“Miss Agatha! Why, I never! How many times have I had to come out here and find you fighting someone? And such LANGUAGE! You had best say your prayers, because you, Missy, are going to find out the hard way why I do not and will not tolerate violence in my school!”
“Aw, but Miss Brunch, they started it! They were gang-”
“I don't want to hear it! Absolutely ZERO tolerance! Come collect your things immediately. You will spend the remainder of the day at the back of the classroom facing the wall. Afterwards, we will be seeing your parents and discussing whether or not you will be welcome to return to this place of education!”
Aggie’s face turned sickly for a moment as she ducked her head and muttered a half-audible apology at their teacher. Seemingly satisfied for the moment, Miss Brunch informed the schoolyard that their lunchtime was over and that classes would begin with a spelling quiz. But from Sammy's perspective on the ground he could see Aggie’s sly wink and hear her whisper.
“Worth it.”
Sammy grinned despite the pain before noticing that his coat now had several holes and tears in it. Aggie was most likely going to get off a lot easier than he was when he got home.