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CHAPTER V

GOODBYE, KAKUNA VILLAGE!

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(-o-)

Today was the day. I had woken up four times throughout the night due to a bubbling anxiety and it was a wonder that I had gotten any sleep at all. A complete contrast from the previous night’s sublime and slumbering sleep.

Isabel, Charli, and Rubert had visited me at home the previous evening and I’d told them all about my bout with Lenn in the woods. They were super curious, so I spared no details. Despite Drowzee’s loss to the nasty Sinnoh-bug, I felt like something in me had changed for the better. Hardened almost. I knew I could give orders to a pokémon and have it do as I say; something I had no experience with apart from Glee when I was younger and fooling around and when she was still an Oddish. I knew that if it came to it, I would even come to blows with a pokémon if it threatened my life; something that Lenn’s pokémon had taught me by putting me on the spot. I also knew that I would aim to get tougher, so that Drowzee wouldn’t have to pay the price for my weaknesses.

The digital clock on my nightstand read ‘06:11’ and I decided to get up. I’d gotten a heads up from my friends and fellow hunters that we would be called as early as quarter-to-seven in the morning. That left me with little over half-an-hour to doublecheck everything before I left.

I had a quick shower and got dressed. There was a warm, beige, hooded fleece that looked like it was made from Mareep wool, and I usually put on in late Fall and Winter, and even though we were mid-way through Spring, I figured that it would be my best choice if I was to be on the road. The wooly fabric was virtually waterproof, and the insides kept dry even during heavy downpours. I only had enough space to pick one jacket, so I had to make my choices count. I would take only those things that were both comfortable to wear for long periods of time, and resistant against the elements.

For shirts, I wore a black thermo-wear and packed another two, another long-sleeved and one short-sleeved. They were snug and fit firmly against the skin.

Pants. One pair of black three-quarter shorts, and one pair of marine-blue cargo-jeans which I was already wearing.

For shoes, I would only take the pair I wore, which was all good because they were my favorite anyway. They were a hybrid between mountain shoes and hi-top sneakers that were a dark shade of maroon with black seams and lacing, and extremely tough rubber soles that could protect even from pointy nails.

Underwear and socks, I packed three pairs each. I wanted to pack more, but I had to leave room for a number of key items. Mostly gadgets from Professor Cid, water, and several tins of canned food.

There was no doubt that I’d have to find dry-cleaners or wash some clothes by hand if I wanted to stay clean out there, and I wondered whether Drowzee’s psychic abilities would be of any help with washing clothes.

After checking my backpack, I scurried over to the kitchen and made myself the usual round of toast and gulped down a glass of milk.

It was 06:36, and I was a bundle of nerves. I went to grab Glee’s pokéball and put it in one of the knee-level pockets of my pants. She would be staying with Gran at the treatment tents. I would be gone for the next few weeks, and I didn’t want to leave her all alone in case she woke up before I returned.

I still hadn’t called my parents, so they were totally ignorant to the fact that I was about to go out on my first ever pokémon journey. It really made me wonder what they’d make of it. They knew I’d changed since the accident, and they probably thought I’d never have a pokémon of my own. That was technically still true, Drowzee belonged to the professor. However, if I followed the professor’s advice to capture a wild pokémon for protection, that’d soon change.

I went around the whole house checking whether any switches were still on, putting all the food that might spoil in a bucket and chucking it in the compost bin in the backyard, closing any open windows which I was sure Gran would scold me for if she was awake. She always used to say, ‘The house needs to breathe!’ but I thought, not if there’s no one in it. Rainwater could collect in puddles in the kitchen and herb-room, and a stray wild pokémon might enter and nest up if it saw the place uninhabited.

Once I secured the house, I put on my woolly fleece and grabbed Drowzee’s pokéball, putting it in one of the fleece’s button-up pockets. It was baggy enough that the minimized ball could hardly be noticed. My backpack was still relatively light, but there were still other things to put inside, namely, the professor’s custom pokéballs. I remembered him mentioning that each hunter would be capturing an average of five culprits, but I expected him to give us a surplus of them as backups.

Normal pokéballs were quite expensive, often no less than ₽95.00 a pop. Moreover, the pokéball itself would be damaged beyond repair if the targeted pokémon broke free from it a few too many times consecutively. Rule of thumb was to try a maximum of two capture attempts before taking the pokéball for repairs. Any more than that, the risk of wasting a hundred bucks grew incrementally higher.

There were higher-end pokéballs called super-balls and ultra-balls which could withstand more breakouts before going caput, but they were way more expensive.

Other than that, each pokéball weighed as much as a regular cell phone when it had a pokémon staying within, and slightly lighter when empty. Carrying ten pokéballs around might’ve weighed more than you’d expect.

A new kind of respect for all those trainers who had set out on their journeys came over me. Kids, some not even in their teens, had done what I was now doing for the first time. They’d had to plan and fend for themselves out there in a world crawling with all kinds of wild pokémon.

That’s what daunted me the most.

It wasn’t so much the distance I had to go, but the thought of encountering a dangerous creature like an Ursaring or a Nidoking, which were known to be extremely territorial and unhesitant in attacking anything trespassing into their zones.

You really did need a pokémon of your own if you were planning to venture the wilds, and I expected that I’d be relying on Drowzee’s Hypnosis an awful lot out there.

I flung on my backpack, stepped out into the cool, foggy dawn, and locked the house, quite aware that I would not be seeing it for many days or weeks to come.

At the treatment tents, I took out Glee and began to say my goodbyes over a little lump in my throat. I had never realized how much she meant to me until we had to part ways.

“Stay with Gran, and take good care of her,” I said, patting a bud on her head. She shuffled in place and uttered a single, drawn out ‘gleee…’

“And do as the people here say, alright?”

The good thing was that she didn’t seem all that sad. She hummed soothingly and released her Sweet Scent, much to the surprise and pleasure of the volunteer staff, who were more than happy to have her around. Some of them knew her and had received remedies from herself and Gran in the past, so they knew she was civil and helpful.

I would speak to a member of the committee about making sure Glee was fed well during my absence.

Gran was next to us on her makeshift bed, her drip-bag halfway through its contents. Her chest rose and fell in a steady, rhythmic manner. I grabbed her hand and stared at her face, still finding it odd to see what she looked like when she slept. She appeared peaceful, though her eyes shifted beneath the eyelids sporadically.

“I’m leaving, Gran,” I whispered. “We’re going to catch the ones that did this, and we’re going to wake you up.” My eyes began to well up, and a chilling flash of doubt and fear ran through me. Would catching these ghost-type pokémon really be enough to wake them from the coma? I didn’t understand it. The logic didn’t make sense to me. But it was the only way that had presented itself, and the professor had seemed sure that it would work. I had no choice but to trust him.

“I’m going to wake you up.” I placed her hand on her belly and gave her on last look, determined beyond measure to see her eyes open again.

Before I left, a volunteer asked me when I’d be back for Glee, and it caught me off-guard. They didn’t know about our mission either.

“Someone’s coming to pick her later, I’m going to see my parents, so I’m not sure if I’ll come back today.”

The volunteer looked satisfied with that answer, and I sighed quietly.

Besides a single early-morning jogger, the rest of the way to lab was silent. I walked round to the back of the lab, which they’d said would be left open for us. The gate was slightly ajar, and it made a metallic whining sound as I pushed on inside.

“Tom!” Isabel cried happily as I stepped into the compound. She was sitting on a bench, a small and sporty backpack of her own propped down on the ground against a bench leg.

I greeted her and took another look at her backpack. It looked near empty and way too small to hold any but a single set of spare clothes.

“Haven’t you packed?”

She shook her head emphatically. “I passed by here last night and found some of the guys,” she said. “Lenn actually said something smart…”

My blind eye itched ever so slightly. “Yeah? What?”

“He said we shouldn’t pack like we’re going camping.” She eyed my backpack, and I felt myself beginning to blush.

“We’re getting a ton of cash!” she said in an excited whisper. “We can buy as many clothes as we’ll need along the way!” She was gushing.

“Same with food and stuff like that,” she added. “I only packed a few snacks and a big water bottle.”

I felt like a doofus. That did make sense, and I hated that it had been Lenn who suggested it. If it had been Myke, or Kieran, or anyone else, I would have probably followed suit, but my dislike for Lenn was fresher than it had ever been, so my pride stood tall and burned hot. I grasped the straps of my bag and pulled it tight against my back.

“Yeah,” I agreed, looking sideways, “that sounds like a good idea, but I’d rather not have to go shopping around. Plus, it’s Spring, and it can rain pretty much on any day.”

She nodded with a little frown, like she was thinking about it. “Yup, that’s true, but I put on my bag, and it weighed almost nothing! It felt so great that I couldn’t pass it up.”

I sat on the other end of the bench, setting down my bag.

“Are we the only ones here?”

She nodded, then said, “But let’s go inside already! I just didn’t want to go in alone!”

I looked at her and blinked. “Let’s wait for Charli,” I said, knowing that he would do the same for me.

Isabel made a bummed-out face for a second but quickly smiled. “Alright.”

So, we waited.

Anna came next, and she stood with us, mentioning how she’d left her father behind at the treatment site and I felt empathy for her. I told her about Gran, and she brightened up knowing she wasn’t going through this alone.

After Anna, came Kieran and Myke, the old boys of the group. They were cheerful and chatty, and livened the place up like at school during break time. I noticed how all three of them had followed Lenn’s advice too; their bags looked scarcely filled.

Rubert arrived with a bad case of bed-hair and sleep-worn eyes that made us laugh. He appeared so relaxed and unbothered by this all, and I’d wished I had even a sliver of his tranquillity. Charli followed soon after, huffing and puffing like he had been running. When he spotted us, he grinned widely in relief.

“I thought you guys had already left!” he exclaimed.

He came over and stood next to me, putting a stuffed satchel-bag down by his feet. I smiled, already feeling better that I wasn’t the only one who’d fully packed. Charli quickly noticed the situation.

“Why haven’t you guys packed your bags yet?”

“Sinnoh-boy’s idea,” Myke replied with a smirk. “Made a whole lotta sense.” He came over to me and picked my bag up with a hand, then Charli’s with the other. He swung them slightly a few times as though he was feeling their weight. The others giggled.

“You two are goin’ to be midgets by the time we get back, haulin’ your wardrobe around.”

He set them down and repeated the same thing Isabel had told me. We were going to be loaded. We could buy anything as we went along.

“Ohhh…” Charli, like I had, saw the sound logic behind it. He looked at his satchel-bag and shrugged.

“It’s not that heavy, plus I’m not planning to splash no cash on clothes,” he said with a light-hearted, mocking tone. “I’m gonna splash on top quality trainer gear and gadgets! I’m heading to Indigo right after we’re done here!”

The group cheered a jeering cheer. None of us believed him.

I got up and put on my bag. It was time to go see the professor.

“We’re still missin’ one, Tommy-boy,” Myke said. “Lenny-boy.”

The words ‘who cares?’ almost forced themselves out from the tip of my tongue, but I slumped my shoulders and wondered why the group had suddenly gone quiet. They were all looking at me.

Isabel unwrapped a small bubble gum and put it in her mouth, raising an eyebrow. Amidst her chewing, she smiled at me a slightly cringing smile. Rubert, Charli and Isabel had heard about my battle with Lenn from me. The others, I had no idea if they knew.

“What?” I said when the silence persisted.

Kieran replied, “Lenn said you battled yesterday…”

I felt a slight pit in my stomach and looked away. “Yeah… he crushed me.”

I was still bitter, and I didn’t feel like talking about it, and I thought that if I mentioned Lenn’s cheating, it would all just blow up into a full-on discussion.

“He thought you were going to quit; that you weren’t going to show up today.”

That surprised me. Whatever had given him that idea? Then I realized the way in which I’d left, storming out of the woods all watery-eyed.

“He also said you took out Abra,” Anna’s soft voice added, and my eyebrows raised in surprise.

Charli barged into the conversation. “Not only that!” he hissed, “but the guy cheated! He took out his little monster! The one the committee banned!”

Myke rumbled with laughter, and Rubert sniggered.

“That ain’t cheatin’,” Myke said. “Maybe a touch unfair, but it ain’t cheatin’.”

“It. Was. Cheating.” Isabel joined in. “He didn’t even tell him he had a second one!”

Myke grimaced, letting out a huff of amusement and shrugging exaggeratedly. “We’re goin’ to get chewed up and spat out in the wild. We need to be ready for anythin’. Would ya say it’s cheatin’ if a herd of Tauros decided to rush ya?”

Isabel stuck out her tongue like a goofy kid and Myke playfully made as if he was going to backhand her.

“That’s true,” I said. “But he really tried to hurt Drowzee. He made him faint.”

Myke came over and gave me a hard pat on the arm. “That’s the whole point of a battle! Listen to yourselves kiddos…”

Blood rushed to my face knowing that Myke was right. “He said it was just for fun…” I muttered, “and he went all out…”

“Toughen up, Tommy! At least you had the guts to face him, and he’s battled lots before back in Sinnoh.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The gates to the compound whined and we turned to look.

“Speak of the devil!” Myke blared.

Lenn was panting slightly, his fringe messy for once, and his face was flushed pink. He looked up at the group and smiled. This was the most worked up I’d ever seen him.

“What the hell? …”

“We were waitin’ for ya!”

Lenn straightened himself and ran a hand through his hair before making his way towards us. This guy didn’t even have a backpack. All he had was parka jacket, a pair of blue chinos, and a fanny-pack bound round his waist. He wore the sneakers he had always worn to school. Besides the jacket maybe, nothing that would stand against the elements. He looked like he was going for a stroll.

“We were discussin’ your battle with Tommy.”

Lenn smiled and looked my way. I tensed up but met his gaze.

“Oh, that…”

He shrugged and made no comment, then said, “Where’s the professor?”

As a group, we poured through the doors and into the lab.

Professor Cid was near the entrance in the landing room, jotting things down at the large table that had been cleared of the labelled boxes that had occupied it the previous days.

There were eight different bundles of gadgets laid out across the table. The professor greeted us, and we gathered around. He asked for a minute to finish whatever he was writing, and we took it to get a good look at the piles of items.

Pokéballs with a uniform color of a dull grey were in sets of three. They looked like rocks, or fossils. The each had two halo engravings etched onto the top and bottom parts that glinted like metal from certain angles.

There were tiny dial-up cellphones that were no longer than the square of my hand and as wide as three fingers bunched together. I assumed they were what we’d use to stay in touch with the professor and with each other.

Each bundle also had a file, like the one I had seen yesterday with the annotated map and a small flashlight an inch or so bigger than my thumb. The thing that stood out most - even more so than the nifty pokéballs - was a metallic gadget that looked like a pocket-sized calculator. It had two small hinges and a tinted transparent cover.

It looked like a pokédex; an electronic encyclopedia of numerous pokémon species. They were quite common with trainers who used them to identify pokémon types to get an advantage in battle.

Like the pokéball incubator, every single one of these tools looked like a custom-made prototype based on the actual thing.

The professor cleared his throat.

“Right!” he exhaled. “There is some gear for each of you.”

He picked up one of the halo-stone pokéballs. “Works like a normal pokéball. Once your partner has subdued the target, aim and throw… or simply just walk up and tap. I doubt the target will be capable of much after being hit by the Psybeam.” He flicked his hand as if to move on. “You’ll see what I mean.”

He was moving for the tiny cellphone when Rubert said, “Didn’t you say we needed to catch around five each? Why are you only giving each of us three balls?”

The professor grabbed the cellphone gadget, then answered, “That’s right, you’ll need to catch every target, but I could only order twenty-four of them for now. By the time you capture three of them, I should have the next order ready to go. You may come back here to deliver what you have and pick up a few more, or, if you’d rather not return until you’ve cleared the field, I could have them delivered to whatever town or city you find yourselves nearest to.”

There was a satisfied silence, and the professor wagged the cellphone.

“As you can probably guess, these are phones. I made sure everything was as small as possible to ease your burden as you travel.” He dialed a short number, and after a few seconds, another cellphone on the table began ringing.

“You will have the contacts of each other, the members of the committee, and of myself. The network they use is a private network that regular phones cannot reach. That doesn’t go both ways though; you may call any network, but they will not be able to save your number or ring you back. Bear that in mind.”

He moved on to the calculator-looking gadget.

“Does anyone know what this is?” he asked, adjusting his glasses.

“Pokédex.” “A Pokédex.” Lenn and I said together and gave each other the quickest of glances.

The professor grunted affirmingly. “Correct. But they are pokédex lite models. They do not narrate or have images like the fashionable ones you’re used to seeing on TV. But they have been installed with a database of the entire Region’s wild pokémon, available for reading at any time.”

“That means we can read about pokémon we haven’t encountered?” Lenn asked, looking puzzled.

The professor replied, “Of course you can,” and he frowned, blinking a few times. “You’re referring to the locked pokédex that has been so popular with young trainers.”

I didn’t know what he meant, I’d always thought there was just the kind that you point at a pokémon and have it spew some information about it.

“Those are simply for challenging trainers to put in the legwork,” he explained.

“They are purposefully handicapped models. Adventure sells well, and if you could sit down and learn all about pokémon from your sofa, the incentive to go out and explore would take a big hit.”

He folded the shaded pane on its hinges and showed us front, with a number of different buttons. “Think about it, how does a pokédex know what to say when you point it a pokémon?”

I felt odd, like a new bit of knowledge was lodging itself into my brain.

“It already has all that data in memory. The trainer is simply locked out of it until they point it at a pokémon.”

“Hmmm!” Lenn was impressed. “It’s obvious now that you mention it.”

Professor Cid nodded, his hair bobbing slightly. “It is common sense, but not common knowledge, funnily enough.

“I will admit though, the best and most famous trainers in recent history have almost exclusively used locked pokédex machines. There is no better teacher than experience, and no better experience than to see and discover first-hand… For our purposes though, they are simply not practical.” He paused for a moment before continuing.

“These lot are all unlocked, so scroll around and read to your heart’s content. That said, you will still need to capture a pokémon to learn how it ranks within its own species.” He glanced at us and said, “Let’s do an example. Who can volunteer their pokéball?”

Kieran offered his first, and the professor asked him to maximize it and hold it out on the palm of his hand before switching on the pokédex and pointing it close-range at the pokéball. The pokédex said, Bu-pleep! Bu-pleep! and the professor dictated aloud,

“Mr Mime, male, approximately level 20. This pokémon enjoys pantomiming and will attempt to slap offenders who interrupt it midway through its act. Evolves from the pokémon Mime Jr. after the latter has mastered the art of mimicking.

“Generally mild-tempered and with a good disposition towards people.”

The Professor closed the pokédex. “You get the gist.”

“Awesome!” Charli cried. “Is there info there about what moves they know?”

“There is,” the professor replied.

“So, what is this exactly?” Myke asked, shifting in place. “Just some kinda computer book?”

“Well, not quite, chap.” The professor flipped the pokédex around, showing us its back and putting a finger to the rear sensors.

“You may still point this at a specific pokémon – even if they have not been captured - and find out its approximate level, along with a list of moves they may know. That information can be very valuable when facing the wild... Understand, though, that pointing it to an uncaptured pokémon will give you only rough estimates. Gender, level, and a few other statistics will all have a significant margin for error. Capturing it and reading from the pokéball itself will provide the highest degree of accuracy.”

There was a collective hum of agreement.

“Right, you know what this is already,” the professor said holding up a folder briefly. “So that leaves us with one last thing…”

He walked over to a cabinet and pulled open a drawer. He picked up a small, rectangular wooden box that looked antique. He set it on the table and pulled open the lid. From it, he grabbed a handful of white, plastic cards and he handed me one first. It had a gold microchip on one side and a silver strip that ran along its length.

“These are your funds. Please, please, please,” he said as he handed them out, “Do not lose them.”

Everyone was quiet but I knew what they were thinking. It wasn’t every day you got handed ten-thousand bucks.

“The cards will work on any card machine or ATM. Pins are written as a message on your cellphones.” He eyed us, smiling for the first time.

“Don’t go bananas with them or withdraw too much at once. Buy what you need to keep yourselves comfortable and keep a good measure of trainer stock with you at all times. Pokéballs, potions, and such like. If you feel like it will give you an advantage for the task, buy it, but use reason.”

We each picked a bundle and collected our things. My hands were shaking as I stuffed everything in different pockets of my backpack. So much was happening so fast. We were about to leave Kakuna Village, and I was about to leave Gran behind.

“You all have your Tracking Tools?” Professor Cid said, like he’d just remembered something important.

We all did.

“Very well! Mr. Mahon has said that you head over to the Main Hall as soon as possible. You will decide on what direction you will each be heading from there.”

“Aren’t you coming, Professor?” I asked.

He pursed his lips and clasped his hands together, shaking his head. “I’m under house-arrest, my boy.”

Myke laughed.

“Can’t be seen outside these grounds.”

He escorted us to the back gates and shook each of our hands.

“Best of luck to you all. We are going to right this wrong, I promise. Bring whatever you catch and let’s begin waking these folks up.” He pumped a fist lightly. “Keep in touch! I shall be waiting!”

Mr. Mahon, Mr. Pelter, and Mrs. Colbs were seated, having their morning tea when our gang of eight strolled through the entrance.

“Look at them!” Mr. Mahon beamed. “I’m feeling jealous!”

After some greetings, the topic jumped straight to the subject at hand.

“You are going to set out in groups of two to begin with,” Mrs. Colbs explained as Mr. Pelter dragged over a small whiteboard on wheels. “Two will go North, two will go East, and so on and so forth.”

Mr. Pelter drew a large ‘+’ sign on the board and marked the North with an arrow. He added an ‘x’ to represent the four intercardinal directions from Northeast all the way round to Northwest.

“There’s so much ground to cover, so you will need to split off from your pairs as soon as your trackers suggest.”

“What do you mean, ma’am?” Anna asked.

“It means that we are asking you not to chase the same target,” Mr. Mahon said. “As the professor has already mentioned, time is of the essence! Communicate with the person in the direction of either side of you to make sure you’re not hunting the same thing. So, for example! –” He moved over to the whiteboard and Mr. Pelter handed him a marker.

“We have Myke going North, his buddy Kieran going Northeast, and his soon to be wife, Anna, going Northwest!” He was scribbling the initial of each name, matching it to its direction.

“Heyyy!” Anna protested and stomped her foot. Isabel broke into a fit of giggles and Myke just shrugged it off, shaking his head, grinning.

“It’s just a joke, relax.” Mr. Mahon carried on as if nothing, but I found myself looking between Anna and Myke. I couldn’t guess if they actually liked each other beyond friendship.

“Anna here, will have to double check with Myke here, and vice-versa.” The force of his squiggling was shaking the whiteboard. “… and Myke here will have to double-check with Kieran here, and vice-versa.

“Everyone will have two people to coordinate with… Is this not clear as crystal?”

“It is,” Anna muttered.

“You bet it is.” Mr. Mahon ran his marker across the board, drawing a huge tick over the diagram before letting it drop onto the whiteboard tray like he was the coolest teacher there ever was.

“Now make some pairs. You have one minute!”

Charli and I just sort of raised our eyebrows at each other, then I found my head turning to Isabel. She was muttering something to Anna, who had to lean in slightly to hear.

The pairs were made inside ten seconds.

They were: Rubert and Lenn, Anna and Isabel, Myke and Kieran, and Charli and me.

“Blimey! That was fast... Can you all agree on which directions to go, or shall we be picking at random?”

We ended up discussing briefly amongst ourselves. It was essentially just dibs showdown.

“Very well, so Team Myran is heading East.” There was a snort, and a few sniggers traveled round the group, but Mr. Mahon did not pause, “Team Rubenn; West. Team Annabel, to the North! And last but not least, it all goes South for Team Tomli.”

I would be travelling True South, with Charli adjacent at Southeast, and Rubert on the other side at Southwest. Since Isabel would be heading the opposite way, I realized there’d be no chance I’d meet her during the mission. It was a bummer, and I’d miss her energetic attitude, but I counted myself lucky that I got Rubert next to me rather than Lenn.

Mr. Mahon beckoned us, and we followed him out. Mr. Pelter and Mrs. Colbs tagged along behind us.

The sun was slowly rising, and its deep amber rays filtered through the trees and bathed the walkways with tepid beams of light. The air was still cool enough to make puffy breaths, but the skies were totally clear, and the day was sure to be on the warm side.

“Come, come,” Mr. Mahon said, spreading his arms. We formed a circle, huddling like a sports team during a break.

“You are well-equipped and well-funded. Do you want to know how much I started my first pokémon journey with? – thirty-five bucks!”

“Ouuuh,” Myke moaned painfully. “How’dya do it?”

Mr. Mahon coughed. “With a whole lot of thinking.” He tapped at his temple. “You have us at a phone-call away, but do not hesitate to ask for help from a good stranger. Even if it’s just advice.

“It is going to be tough out there, and the wild critters are NOT what you are used to here.”

He leaned into the circle and hissed, “They will attack! Have your own pokémon handy at all times!

“As for trainers…Hoh!” He was nodding his head slowly.

“Some trainers will trick you into battle – they will attack in surprise, yes, and by the time you let out your pokémon, you are already neck-deep in battle! If you carry money, the normal etiquette is to hand over whatever you can spare to the winner… So don’t carry cash around!”

“That’s so dumb,” Rubert mumbled. “Who made that rule?”

Mr. Mahon replied, “It’s a very old tradition. Token of Gratitude is what it’s called. It is a thank-you to the winner for giving your pokémon the experience it needs to evolve or get stronger. Fighting against tougher trainers will see your pokémon grow faster. It just means you might become destitute in the process.”

Anna and Kieran shared a laugh, and I wondered how the after-battle conversation with trainers usually went. Did they flat-out ask for money like beggars?

“What if you don’t want to pay up? Is it a crime?” I said and Lenn made a ‘pff’ sound.

Mr. Mahon looked at me with a growing smile on his face.

“I pity you kids… Cooped up here in the village cocoon…

“No!” he said suddenly.

“You pay the token for no other reason than gratitude. For trainers, it is akin to having a friend coming over to mow your lawn, and you asking whether it would be a crime to pay him or not! Not a crime, just basic decency, Mr. Tovis!”

I blushed but grinned.

“So,” Mr. Mahon continued, “there is no excuse. You each have a small fortune, and all that you need to succeed. If you return empty-handed, I’ll have you do community service for a year.”

“Jeez, sir!” Myke laughed. “Is this supposed to be a pep talk? I feel a prisoner on probation!”

I giggled along with the rest of the group.

Mr. Mahon stood straight and let go of the guys beside him. We all mirrored him and stayed standing in a circle. He looked to Mrs. Colbs and Mr. Pelter and said, “Anything?”

Both Mrs. Colbs and Mr. Pelter approached, and the circle opened up for them.

“Only to say good luck, and to keep yourselves well-fed and appropriately clothed. Getting sick in the wild is dangerous, alright?”

Mr. Pelter was smiling slightly. “I noticed that many of your bags look empty,” he said. “And you, Lenn, where is yours?”

Mr. Mahon said, “These are clearly their tool-kit bags, they must have others waiting… Why didn’t you come with them?”

There was another bout of laughter as the group explained their reasoning and to say that the committee members were colored surprised would be putting it lightly.

“It looks like Team Tomli are the true inheritors of the flame… Relying on wits over blessings, as all good men do!” Mr. Mahon said with approval.

I knew that he and the others could agree with Lenn’s logic, but his own sense of nostalgia had skewed things. It still made me feel loads better though.

“Team Annabel!” Mr. Mahon boomed. “To the North!” He pointed towards the direction.

“Team Tomli! To the South!” He pointed in the opposite direction.

“Team Myran! Go East!

“Team Rubenn! West!”

We had our bearings, and we all shared a short and uncomfortable silence.

“Who’s gonna cry?” Charli said mockingly.

“Oh, man!” Myke sighed. “I’m actually goin’ to miss your silly-ass faces…”

He shook his head roughly, making a babbling sound. “Let’s get this done! Imma call you guys every night! Pick up your damn phones, yeah?”

Hah, he was feeling terrible. I could tell. A lump similar to the one I had with Glee worked its way up my throat.

I looked at Myke who winked at me, and Isabel, who stuck out her tongue. Anna had tears in her eyes, and I called her out. “Anna broke!”

Anna gave me a sideways glance and quickly turned again to hide her face. “Oh, shut up, will you?” she said, but it only made us laugh.

Kieran extended his hand to the center. “To the chosen ones!”

Myke slapped his hand down without hesitation, and Kieran gave a yelp.

Charli placed his hand too, his golden locks of hair bobbing with excitement. I put my hand in next and Isabel smacked hers on top of mine. Then Rubert, and with some encouragement, Anna, who wiped her eyes and kept her gaze averted.

Lenn was shaking his head. “You people for real?”

“Yeah!” Myke blared. “You’re a villager now too, Sinnoh-boy! So bring that hand here!”

Lenn blew out with derision but put his hand on top of the pile.

“One… Two…” Kieran began.

“Hah!!!” all but Lenn screamed in unison. He had his other hand to his ear.

“Oi!” Mr. Mahon called behind us. “This is supposed to be discreet! Should we ring the bells for a public meeting?”

We said our last goodbyes and stepped out in the street. There were paths to the North, to the East, and to the West. The way to the South would follow the Eastern route for a less than half-a-mile before branching off. So, Charli and I would walk with Kieran and Myke for a little while before parting ways.

I watched Anna and Isabel head North, arms around each other like siblings, and Rubert and Lenn take the path to the West, talking.

The four of us left went East, passing by the Goldeen Ponds. We got to the village outskirts where a tall, arching sign read Welcome To The Home Of Harmony, Kakuna Village.

I kept staring backwards at it for a good few moments and felt the inside of my fleece’s pocket for Drowzee’s pokéball.

The hunt had begun.

(-x-)