Wake 1.12

2010, September 18: Brockton Bay, NH, USA

Just as the sun started to peak over the sea, I recalled SAINT back into my PokéNav and made my way to the Boardwalk. Halfway there, I disguised myself to look like my civilian outfit. I made sure to text mom so she wouldn't panic and jogged home.

"I'm home."

"Bryce, where were you?" my mom rushed over, worry creasing her brow.

"Jogging," I said, "didn't you get my text?"

"No, who checks their phone the moment they wake up?"

"Sorry, mom. I should have called instead."

"Well, come have your breakfast. It's going to get cold."

"I'll take a shower first; I'm fine with cold food." I made a show of sniffling my shirt and cringed with distaste. "I reek."

She ushered me off upstairs, saying she'd put my plate in the oven. I couldn't say it enough: It was good to have a mom again. When I came down, Sierra was lying sprawled across the sofa, playing some game on her phone. "Sup, bro," she greeted.

"Sup, sis."

"Can you be quiet today? Sabah and Michelle are coming over to work on an assignment."

"Sure, I kinda want a nap anyway," I said with an easy smile.

"Thanks, love you."

"Love you, too."

As soon as I finished my breakfast of lukewarm eggs, sausages, and toast, I headed to my room to crash.

I had SAINT use Conversion again to become an electric type and set him up with the archive for Thunderbolt then Zap Cannon. Those would round out my electric skillset. Then, I planned to augment Zap Cannon with Lock-On for the iconic pairing before teaching him Psychic using video footage of Rune and other capes like her. The unusual typing would likely eat into the rest of my specialization, but telekinesis was just too awesome to pass up.

X

I woke up five hours later with that unpleasant, fuzzy feeling in my mouth. I rinsed my mouth with mouthwash before heading downstairs for a late lunch.

"Hey, Bryce," Michelle said from the sofa. She was lounging with her head on Sierra's lap and her legs on Sabah's. The three of them had on some rerun of a medical drama that I thought was only popular with middle-aged housewives. There was nothing overtly sexual about her position, but I found my eyes wandering up her stockinged legs to her jean-shorts anyway. She smirked with an arched eyebrow. "See something you like?"

'Fuck hormones. Fuck puberty. Fuck my life,' I chanted in my head as I hurried past them to the kitchen, face burning.

"Ewww, no. Just no." Sierra made a face. "No flirting with my baby bro, even as a joke. I don't need that image."

Michelle laughed. "He's adorable when he's all flustered."

"You have a boyfriend," Sabah said dryly. "You sleep at his house almost as much as you sleep at ours."

"Spoil the fun, why don't you. Sorry, Bryce, it just wasn't meant to be."

'In for a penny…'

"He's a lucky man," I countered. "I'm sure he's got a lot of competition."

"Aww, you're sweet, Bryce. Sierra, your baby bro is going to be popular with the ladies."

I saw the devious grin on my sister's face. I turned to Sabah for help but she only spared me an apologetic smile. "He already is~" Sierra sang. "He's got a date with Panacea. Sabs even helped coordinate his outfit."

"What? That's so cute. Show me."

"No, I need to make myself lunch," I said as I desperately searched for a way out. "Why are you two here anyway? What happened to assignments?"

Michelle waved me off with a shrug. "Oh, that, we finished an hour ago. And stop changing the subject. You. Panacea. Tell."

"Why are you so invested in the love lives of high schoolers?"

"Oh, so it is a love life?"

I felt a mounting headache; the blood pooling in my face wasn't helping. "No, no it is not. We are going to homecoming as friends. Friends," I emphasized, "not a couple."

"Geez, does she know you're so against dating her?"

"Yes. She is just as against dating me."

"He was going to show up in flannel like some kind of lumberjack until mom and I pressured him into matching Amy's dress," Sierra said with a shit-eating grin, happy to add fuel to the fire.

"What? No! Bryce, how could you?" Michelle gasped, but I could see the corners of her mouth twitching upward.

Looking for absolutely anything to do to not be a part of this conversation, I opened the kitchen cabinets one by one. Then, my power kicked in and I clung to the offered line like a drowning man.

"Michelle, you're beautiful and I'd normally love attention from a pretty older girl, but I'd rather gnaw off my own foot than talk about homecoming with Amy Dallon so let's make a deal. I'll make you girls snacks if you agree to stop talking."

"Aww, you think I'm beautiful," she cooed. "Sierra, he thinks I'm beautiful."

"Snacks," Sierra decided. I could always count on her gluttony. How she stayed so slim was anybody's guess.

They went back to watching TV and I started to tinker with the ingredients. I'd honestly hesitate to call it tinkering though. Nothing got dismantled. The fridge was in one piece and the toaster didn't magically become a warp gate. It wasn't so much tinkering as it was a recipe list.

Almost in a trance, I picked up spices and ingredients from a list I barely remembered with skills that were not mine. The only truly tinkered ingredient was honey, honey I somehow put into a saucepan without burning the sugars into caramel. I mixed it with herbs and spices and flooded it in my own aura, condensing the flavor until it took on a golden luster more vibrant than its previous amber hue.

Enchanted honey, my power provided.

I vaguely remembered that episode.

It was a filler episode during the Sinnoh saga, when Ash and company went into Eterna Forest. They found a vespiquen hive in a hidden cave system so large that it was called the Amber Castle. Team Rocket shenanigans happened and at the end of the episode, they received a special honey from the queen of the hive called enchanted honey. It had no special effects, but apparently released an aroma detectable by pokémon and not by humans. It was also said to be hundreds of times sweeter than normal honey, never mind the blatant scientific impossibility of that statement.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

I couldn't make anything that wasn't made by human hands. No, what I had was what chefs in the pokémon world did with it, recipes the people living near Eterna Forest perfected over generations were mine to abuse.

Regardless of the universal laws of chemistry, I had a pot of simmering enchanted honey, manmade but still many times sweeter than the store bought brand. I knew Sierra had a sweet tooth so it'd be an effective bribe if nothing else.

I left that to sit off the fire and made myself a quick sandwich of ham, turkey, onions, dried tomatoes, and arugula. I drizzled on a bit of vinegar to cut through the honey I planned to coat it in.

Left with nothing to do but wait, I thought about what would go best with the newly tinkered super-honey and found my body start to move on its own. My power used the enchanted honey as a foothold to draw upon different recipes used by chefs of the pokémon world. By the time I stopped moving, I'd retrieved a type of whole grain biscuit from the shelf and made a small bowl of tomato balsamic vinaigrette loaded with pine nuts.

Dipping a spoon into the warm saucepan, I drew up a small dollop of honey and stuck it in my mouth. Normally, anything too sweet would quickly turn bitter. It was why sugar pills used as placebo in pharmaceutical studies didn't taste good. Flavor theory said there was a limit to the sweetness a body can enjoy, a limit to the glucose taste receptors can process before they get overwhelmed.

Enchanted honey dragged that theory to a back alley and did unspeakable things to it until it caved.

The sweetness of that single dollop was hard to put into words. It coated my mouth completely until I could taste nothing else. It was slightly savory from the heat of the pan and a little smoky and earthy from the herbs I mixed it with. There was a floral note I couldn't place, very possibly from a flower not native to this world. Instead of drizzling it over my sandwich like I planned, I took the back of the spoon and traced a single line across the toasted bread. Anything more would be excessive.

I bottled a small jar of it for later and plated up the food. The honey went into a single shot glass for each of my taste testers with a larger, communal bowl of the tomato-balsamic vinaigrette.

"Here," I said, setting the plate down on the coffee table. "Enjoy. The honey is really, really sweet. Start with only a drop."

"Thanks, Bryce," Sierra said. "What's the reddish-brown stuff though?"

"Tomato-balsamic. It's literally just dried tomatoes and balsamic vinaigrette blended together with some herbs and pine nuts thrown in from back when mom had her Mediterranean kick. The sour and savory flavors should make the honey more palatable."

"Look at you, since when are you a chef?"

"Since thirty minutes ago," I said easily, tapping the pocket that held my phone. "Trying new things, remember? I looked up a recipe online."

"Do you want to eat with us?"

"Not crashing on your girl time?"

Sierra rolled her eyes. "Nah, eat with us. It's not like you have plans."

"Ouch, are you saying I have no life?"

"You said it, not me."

"We don't mind," Sabah said. She looked tired, with small bags under her eyes.

"Yeah, you two are more entertaining than the show," joked Michelle.

"Glad to hear it." I settled in front of the sofa, a bit to the side so I wouldn't block the food. "So why are you watching medical dramas if you don't like them?"

"I didn't say I didn't like them, I said you two are funny. I'm an only child so it's interesting to see how siblings interact."

""Must be lonely."

"It is. I've always wanted a little brother, you know. Bryce, wanna be my little bro?" she reached over to ruffle my hair then recoiled, trying to wipe the waxy feeling from her fingers. "Eww, I didn't think that through."

"It's pomade. Doesn't feel good."

"Why do you have pomade in your hair?"

"I always wear a bit, enough to keep my hair sorta in shape. Is it weird?"

"He wears it because dad taught him how to style his hair," Sierra interjected. "And you're alright, Bryce. It doesn't get on your pillow when you nap?"

"No, it sets pretty quickly unlike gel and stays dry. Doesn't flake either. Less is more and all that."

"It looks very clean," Sabah said. "I wouldn't have noticed the pomade either."

"Cool, do you have any siblings, Sabah?"

"I have three little brothers, but the oldest twins are eight years younger than me. They were only two years old when we came to America so they don't really remember Iraq either. It's a little hard to relate to them because of that. I do have some cousins closer to my age though."

My sister leaned over to give her a side-hug. "You two can have Bryce then. We have a no returns policy at the Kiley home," she joked.

"Yes, an upgrade!"

"Oi!"

"Hey, you're the one who's trying to give away her own little brother," I grinned. "You can't talk."

She grumbled and took a bite of the biscuit with a fat dollop of honey. "Holy shit, Bryce, why is this so sweet?"

"I told you to start with a drop. The honey mix is really strong. Cut it with the tomato paste."

Following Sierra's lead, Michelle and Sabah took a small nibble as well. "Wow, this is really good. So since I'm your big sister now, does that mean you'll make me snacks like this whenever I want?" Michelle smiled teasingly.

"No, it means you can bribe me to make you snacks," I said, rolling my eyes. I took a big bite of my sandwich. "I'm warning you; I'm expensive."

"It really is very good," Sabah added. "It's even sweeter than a baklava but still works."

"Glad you like it."

I did nothing else for the rest of the day except watch reruns of medical dramas with Sierra and her friends. By the time they left, the melancholic air around Sabah had lessened somewhat, I'd gained two new sisters, and had new recipes for the enchanted honey floating around in my head. It wasn't the most productive use of my time, but I enjoyed myself so I considered the day a win.

"Sabah seemed tired," I said to Sierra once I heard their car drive off.

"You noticed, huh?"

"It's hard to tell because of her skin tone, but she has bags beneath her eyes."

"Are you going to stop asking about her if I tell you she's just swamped with schoolwork?"

"Yes." She looked surprised so I elaborated. "She's my friend; at least, I'd like her to be. That doesn't mean I should be nosy though. I can guess, but at the end of the day, it's none of my business. Just let me know if she's not okay and how I can help?"

Sierra smiled softly and started to clean up the plates. "I will," she said. "I think she appreciates you. It's not hard to tell you're trying to make her laugh."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I started walking up the stairs. "I'm just your bratty little brother. It's my job to give you shit in front of your friends."

X

2010, September 19: Brockton Bay, NH, USA

Thunderbolt took SAINT a full day to learn even as an electric type. From the perspective of a parahuman, I'd assumed all blaster powers were more or less the same: Thunder Wave could lead to Thunderbolt which could lead to Zap Cannon.

Shoot harder, this time with feeling!

Apparently, that wasn't strictly the case. Weaker variants of moves could act as primers, but each move had nuances that SAINT had to figure out from my vague descriptions and dubiously correlating videos of capes that weren't actually pokémon.

For example, Thunder Wave abandoned power in exchange for ungodly control. It was an electrical pulse that raced along the victim's nervous system, causing their neurons to spasm and fire at irregular intervals to inhibit movement, all without causing any permanent damage. No burns, no ruptured blood vessels, no torn muscles, nothing. More than that, it was a move replicable on any body type, from a wailord to a skitty. That adaptability, versatility, and control made it a surprisingly nuanced move.

Comparatively, Thunderbolt was exactly what it sounded like, an arc of electricity. It was the inverse of Thunder Wave: All power, minimal control. I'd lucked out by teaching SAINT the moves in sequence; I'd inadvertently stumbled on the components necessary for Zap Cannon.

In Japanese, the name translated to Electromagnetic Cannon, or what was functionally a railgun without the physical projectile. It was depicted as a ball of intensely charged electricity lobbed at the opponent.

The move required incredible control over electricity to shape it into a sphere despite what the repulsive magnetic forces wanted. It also required tremendous power to hold that sphere and condense the ball of hyper-dense energy to a single point.

Yes, it was a blaster power much like other electric type moves, but it was so much more. It was energy condensed to such an absurd degree that it had mass and imparted kinetic energy. After some thought, I honestly wasn't surprised it missed so often. Aiming that was not easy.

After a delightful breakfast of Sunday morning beignets, I went for a jog with SAINT in my PokéNav. The rest of the day was spent quietly in my room. I tried to memorize some of the Earth-Aleph songs I enjoyed in my past life while SAINT got started learning Zap Cannon.

Author's Note

My ruling on powers is thus: If Bryce has it by the end of a specialization, he can use it or replicate the recipe. He cannot make anything new, no matter how derivative, from a specialization after it passes.

Michelle's behavior is very much based on my own older cousin, who was something of a family busybody, particularly with romance. I, being the eldest son of Asian immigrants, have always received questions from parents, aunts, and uncles about when I'm getting married. I'm in my late twenties and have never even dated. My kid sister got married recently so I'm constantly getting those questions.

Yes, Bryce discovered a whole new branch of the pokémon tech tree because he was spurred on by his embarrassment. Then again, Bryce hasn't had many chances to cook, having a loving mom and plenty of money for takeout when necessary. I know I'm taking a very liberal view on what qualifies as "technological advancements" for the purposes of Tinker of Fiction, but I'm sticking to my guns here. "Technology" is to me the application of science for practical purpose, any practical purpose. That certainly includes the culinary arts and the recreation of a super sweet ingredient originally only made by the vespiquen hives.

At least it wasn't Brock's "donuts."

Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.