Sammy knew that harvest season was here by the bite of the morning cold. His teeth chattered as he attempted to pull the covers farther up his chest, but they resisted with a small yip. Looking down, Sammy spotted the pinkish-purple ears of his new companion at the foot of the bed. The creature was nestled within a small nest of stolen blanket as it opened one eye as if to say, “what are you going to do about it?” Sammy sighed, and steeled himself as he extricated himself from around the Pokemon.

It had been two days since the incident and the big-eared rabbit was essentially back to form. The first night it had absolutely devoured everything set before it and guzzled down an entire carton of Oran berry juice on its own. By the next morning if it wasn’t for the dried blood still dotting its coat and a few light pink scars you would never have been able to tell it had just been in a life or death situation.

Sure would be nice to have fur like that.

Hissing, Sammy darted for his dresser dancing upon his toes as he attempted to minimize contact with the cold wooden floors of his room. Snagging a pair of woolen socks from a drawer, he slipped them on first before accompanying them with a thick sweater and dense cotton jeans. Sammy sniffed the air and was rewarded with the smell of frying bacon and the dark aroma of coffee. It seemed like the rest of the house was already up and about.

Sammy padded over to the Pokemon and blew gently upon its ears. “Come on you. If you want breakfast before we get to work you better get up now.”

With a spine-tingling stretch, the rabbit-like creature stretched out its full length and rattled its spines. Its jaw gaped open, exposing glistening incisors as it yawned. The Pokemon retracted and hauled itself upon its feet as it arched its back. With its morning routine completed, it hopped off the bed and led the way out the door, glancing each way as it passed through the archway.

“Nothing’s gonna be up here, you know.” Sammy muttered, more to himself than the Pokemon.

The pair made their way down to the kitchen, the aromas of breakfast growing stronger as they drew near enough to hear the clang of pans and silverware. Entering the room, the Pokemon made a beeline for a small bowl that sat in the corner and leaned back on its haunches. Its nose quivered and its whiskers shivered in anticipation.

Roger Oak grumbled from his seat at the head of the small table near the corner of the room. His face was buried in a mug of steaming coffee as he shook his head at the sight.

“At least it’s smart enough to know the drill. If it hadn’t helped out with the rats, I likely have shot the damn thing. Coming into my house, eating my food…” Sammy’s Grandfather’s mutterings trailed off as he switched his focus to the boy. “You planning on keeping it?”

“I think it’s keeping me, Grandpa.”

“Bah. It’ll probably scamper off somewhere once its legs fully heal. We don’t have one of them, whatchamacallits…”

“Pokeballs?”

“Aye, that’s it! Pokeballs. We don’t have any to keep it leashed, so don’t you be getting attached now, ya hear?”

“I don’t even know what to call it, Grandpa…and I think it’s already fully healed.”

A woman’s voice cut through announcing breakfast. “Alright you two, enough of that. Got eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee that’ll keep your bellies warm. Sammy, if you want some Oran Juice we may have a little left in the icebox. Sit yourselves down and eat, or so help me, I’ll spoon feed you both.”

Mom used to do that.

Sally Summers was a spinster who resided at the Oak residence as live-in maid. She had never married, and had worked in a factory up in Viridian throughout the war. But when the war ended, so did her employment. The womenfolk were seen as no longer necessary now that able-bodied men had returned to the workforce. Sally had flitted from job to job before chancing upon Roger’s ad in the local paper.

“Wanted immediately: a reliable live-in helper for a family of three. Must be hardworking and trustworthy, willing to perform a variety of household duties.

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Duties include cooking, cleaning, washing clothes, and general housekeeping. Also, care for one child and one invalid. Must have experience working with children and be comfortable in a rural environment. In return, we offer room and board and a competitive salary.”

Sally had arrived at the house and promptly gotten to work. Despite his early apprehension, Sally had recognized his need for space and largely left him alone. Her care and attention to little things like that were what eventually won Sammy over. If there were two things that Sammy didn't like so much, even after two years…Sally insisted that he spend some time with his mother every day…and still insisted on calling him Samuel.

"Now, Samuel,” she’d say, “I know it's hard seeing your mother in the state that she is in, but if you ever are wanting to see a recovery, you need to take at least a few minutes everyday and ask for her to come back. I don't give a damn if this meant that I'd be out of a job. Child like you needs his mother, and damn it all I'm not fit to step into those shoes."

I’m fine. I don’t need a mother.

Sammy was jolted out of his retrospection as he heard his name being called.

"Samuel, get your elbows off the table and your head out of the clouds! Be present when you're at the table, young man!" Sally was a stickler for table manners.

Sammy frowned, but chose not to comment. He dug into the heaping pile of food on his plate with gusto. From the corner of his vision, Sammy watched as Sally knelt down and scraped the leftovers from the pans into the little bowl as the purple rabbit growled at her.

"Watch your tone with me, rabbit! Don't snarl at the hand that feeds you, or I'll just as soon feed myself with your pretty little ears!"

He’s just scared, leave him alone.

Mollified but unbeaten, the Pokemon ceased its growling but kept its teeth bare and the final remains of the pan emptied into its dish. Watching warily as Sally stepped back, it kept one eye upon her figure as it too devoured its meal.

Sally shook her head as she picked up another prepared plate and departed the room. "Before you go running off, see that you visit your mother, Samuel."

Sammy grimaced into his fork, "Yes Miss Summers."

"I can hear that sass from here, young man. Don't think I won't eat your ears too!"

Roger guffawed from across the table. "Sammy. Son. Do as Miss Summers asks."

Sammy covered his now reddening ears. "Sorry, Miss Summers…I'll see mum after breakfast."

"Humph! We'll get some manners into you yet!"

With that, Sally Summers left the room on her way to coax the figure of Sammy's mother into taking a few bites of egg. Roger Oak grinned at his grandson as he sat back, satisfied with his meal.

"Now, Sammy, once you've finished up with things, I want you to stick around for the day."

Sammy brightened immediately. "Does this mean you're gonna teach me how to drive the tractor today?"

"Sammy, I told you that you need at least another foot on you before I'd let you do that. Don't need you slipping off trying to reach the pedals. No, we need to talk about your…pet."

I'm not small!

"What about it?"

"League responded to our request this morning. A Trainer will be coming in today."

Sammy's eyes darkened.

They’ll take him away and make him fight.

"See, I'm thinking that he may be able to give us some advice on that pink rabbit. Tell us what the hell it is, if it'll get bigger, and if it's dangerous."

It definitely would become dangerous if a Trainer took him.

Sullenly, Sammy retorted. "It's purple, Grandpa."

"Eh, pink, purple, it doesn't matter. What matters is that he'll know what the hell to do with it. With any luck he'll take it with him when he goes. In any case," Roger set his now empty mug onto the table, "it follows you wherever you go, so you'll need to stick around so he can get a good look at it."

What about school?

"What about school?" Sammy voiced aloud.

"Plenty of boys will be missing now that the harvest is starting. I'll have Sally pop down around lunchtime to let Miss Brunch know you'll be out a few days." Roger stood. "Anyways, he'll be here any time now. Best get your mucking clothes on. You'll be oiling up the tractor." With that, Roger deposited his plate and mug into the sink and left the room, leaving Sammy to his own thoughts.

Miss Brunch would just have me writing papers anyway.

Feeling a shove on his legs, Sammy looked down to the big eyes of the obviously purple Pokemon. With a sigh, Sammy placed his plate on the floor.

"Fine, you glutton. I've had enough anyway."

A Trainer. Someone who sought blood and war. Sammy shuddered as his gaze drifted to the wall connecting the kitchen to the living room where the shadowbox lay.

Damn them all.