Wings are flapping. Hectic fluttering wraps the temporary silence in a small glimmer of hope on the edge of a shattered journey, and before I can say anything, a small Pikipek has placed itself in front of Zorua.

It is visibly smaller than Ying, lankier, probably even weaker, and not nearly as robust. But it has spread its wings to either side and puffed out its chest as if ready to continue the fight. Thirty centimetres of a Pokémon I’ve never asked for help, yet it’s on my side.

Its flippant chirp resembles a short squawk before it turns its head in my direction and I catch a better glimpse of its blue eyes. The red stripe on its head, blending so seamlessly with the black and white of its plumage, reminds me of Ying. If she were a bird, I think Pikipek would be the first choice visually.

“Looks like Domino has asked her second Pokémon for help!” Hala isn’t fazed by the spectacle. Instead, he claps his hands as if the battle has just begun and it’s an opportunity I seize.

Instantly, I grab Ying and set her aside. Hala, meanwhile, bridges the gap and takes care of her. He fishes a biscuit out of his trouser pocket, which she happily devours, and a few strokes give her the rest she needs most right now. In the meantime, I’m in action with Pikipek.

I have no clue what attacks this Pokémon is capable of, but thinking back to the fight against the girl, I can think of at least one that might work. “Pikipek, peck!”

Suspiciously, it flaps its wings before bending to my will and lunging forward. It has far more momentum than the Pikipek I’ve been fighting, though, and before I know it, it’s slamming its small yet pointed beak into the Grimer’s body so hard I think it’s boring through the Pokémon’s body.

In fact, something like a crack seems to form, from which the slime comes flowing. The same disgusting mass that poisoned Ying. But Pikipek isn’t bothered by it. It simply shakes off the bit that has stuck to its beak. The feathers are still clean, and this heroic creature is unharmed.

Grimer, however, presses its clumsy arms to the injured spot and howls. It sounds like pulling a rubber glove over plastic, loud and unpleasant, so Flamian immediately pulls out his Poké Ball and calls Grimer back.

“I give up!” He doesn’t even bother to argue before he turns and runs off. There is a Pokémon Center right next to the school. His destination is obvious.

Pikipek has chased away my enemy. The snort that escapes it is almost reminiscent of how my father behaves when he gets his way after a long discussion. And when it turns to me all at once, I don’t even need to ask it why it has helped me. The gleam in its pretty eyes tells of excitement and desire – of the same longing for adventure that Ying and I feel.

“Could it be that it was you who was doing all the rustling in the meadows and bushes?”

It nods eagerly. Its big feet make it bob up and down, and when Hala hands me a Poké Ball, the situation seems almost surreal. There are no words to be exchanged because everyone’s understanding is the same. This Pikipek wants to go on a journey with me and all I have to do is accept it.

“You won’t catch this Pokémon!” My father’s sudden protest makes me raise my shoulders before my gaze wanders in his direction. “You lost that battle!”

“He gave up!”, I protest. But he just shakes his head.

“He gave up after you pulled Ying back. I said you had to win those battles with her, not with a Pokémon that doesn’t belong to you. You lost.”

“But I won all those other battles. Who manages that many fights without a potion? Or without something else to help you?”

“One of your opponents was a Metapod. Means you beat two fights, and I hardly think you really got through them well.”

I want to disagree, but he’s not wrong. I did passably well against the Pikipek, but my second opponent was a nightmare. Plus, there was the incident with the Magnemite and no matter how I want to spin it, Zorua and I didn’t do as well as we probably should have.

“Now look at things from a different angle,” Hala also interjects. Zorua, meanwhile, sneaks back to my legs. She’s exhausted, and putting her in the Poké Ball is the best option for both of us. “Domino, for not being a trainer, has done brilliantly. She and her Zorua get along on a completely different level than normal people do with their Pokémon. She functions like a real trainer. Better yet, she has excellent skills for researching Pokémon.”

“She’s a child!” my father objects. In his eyes, I’m just a girl who should definitely not go anywhere near the evil world out there.

“And at some point, we have to let our children go, otherwise they will never learn about the world,” Hala replies calmly. “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. She can manage.”

“I don’t want to hear any more of this!” My father’s roar thunders in my ears. “Domino has lost her bet and will stay home, where it’s safe. We’re leaving!”

It is a summons I must obey. An order that will lock me in a cage. But my legs don’t move. Instead, my eyes are on the Poké Ball Hala has given me. If I just use it and capture Pikipek, if I just break my promise, hoping to be forgiven for my selfishness, can I still be free?

Saliva hangs dry in my throat as my father demands for me imperiously once more. The trance has me firmly in its clutches and won’t let me go, even when I return Pikipek’s gaze one last time. It seems to nod at me barely noticeably and as I drop the ball to let it absorb the bird Pokémon, it is brief peace that takes me in. Pikipek disappears into its new home. My father yells my name a little louder and the shock in my bones spurs me to flee all at once.

Instantly, I grab the Poké Ball and run. Straight past my father, down from the school’s property, towards the city. At least, I think it’s in that direction. I can hear people chasing after me in the background, but my legs are fast. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s run. Admittedly, only for a short distance, but most people let themselves get lost in this time – including my father.

I don’t need permission to run away from this damn island. All I need is an opportunity to escape. Nothing more, nothing less.

The breath rushes across my lips, leaving my throat dry as dust and making the heavy air a little more stifling. My soles slam on the concrete of the street and my heart pounds so hard against my ribs that they will probably break at any moment. Still, I don’t dare stop. My legs just carry me down the street, past buildings packed tightly together, up a junction, straight around a corner that I can’t clear without crashing into someone.

The momentum sends me backwards onto my backside. Concrete seems to scrape through my trousers, and when I lift my eyes to gasp for air, it is the stubborn gaze of a Tauros that stares back at me. Its weighty body blocks my way and its scraping hooves threaten an attack.

I don’t think I can get any deeper into trouble than that.

As it lowers its head, I feel my hands stick to the ground. It’s probably planning to impale me. But it just keeps its head lowered as it slowly strides in my direction. It stops at my feet. Rigid and unyielding, as if waiting for something.

I need a moment to see the collar on its neck. Thick and brown and barely noticeable in the strong chest fur, but it’s there, and it makes me breathe a sigh of relief. After all, it belongs to someone, which also means it must be tame.

A little more relaxed than before, I reach for one of its horns so that it can pull me back to my feet. Only then does it take its distance and scratch its hooves as if our moment together isn’t over yet. It probably understands that I am running away from something, and since it seems to have jumped over a fence itself, the thought that we might both disappear together isn’t so far-fetched. Zorua needs to rest, Pikipek has just got into his ball and it’s still a fair way to the harbour.

“Would you give me a lift?” Briefly, I reach out to the Tauros. Its gaze pierces me.

But it actually turns its side to me and gives me the chance to jump onto its back with a bit of a run-up. With difficulty, I claw at its mane and swing one leg over until I finally find a halfway good seat. My thighs press firmly against the Pokémon’s flanks before it rears up quickly, eliciting a brief gasp from me. Then it takes off running.

All at once, my father no longer matters. The city swallows us up. There are almost no cars on the streets that could get in our way. Passers-by on their paths watch us from the sidelines. Wind hisses through my hair, firm hoofbeats make the escape real and the freedom that is a part of this journey in these seconds settles sweetly on my shoulders. This is what I have been looking for. As soon as the harbour is in front of me, I’m out of here. Some ship will surely take me. Maybe I’ll even make it onto the ferry unseen. After all, I don’t have a single thing with me this time. Neither my Rotom Phone, nor anything else.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The only good thing is that my money is in the account I’ve had since I was a kid, and my mobile phone is the only thing I carry with me all the time. It has little more use than receiving calls and managing my account details. Ultimately, it’s a horribly old model that my father picked up somewhere in the middle of nowhere. But it’s better than nothing. And in those seconds, I’m glad I own it.

The city clears a few minutes later and the water behind the green space left to beautify the island stretches far out into the distance. The other islands are not visible from here, but they are there and they are a start.

As Tauros slows, the pressure in my thighs fades, too. The Pokémon trots the last few metres before stopping and snorting. A moment I use to dismount and stretch my arms. Now it’s only five minutes to the harbour.

“Thanks for the lift.” Mindfully, I pat the Taurus on the side. The scratching of its hooves answers me beyond comprehension and before I can ask, it turns and disappears. That leaves me alone again with myself and my pounding heart, which will probably mourn the freedom on the back of a Taurus for a moment longer.

“Terrible, that sort of thing.” The whispering of a few others, however, quickly draws my curiosity in another direction. At the side of the road, two old women have settled down on a bench to talk about times I didn’t witness. Still, I listen a little longer.

“The police should really do something. They always say it’s peaceful and that they have everything under control, but I tell you, they don’t know what to do themselves!” Grumbling, the other lady claps her thighs. “And not only are those ruffians from Team Skull nothing but trouble, a submarine arrived this morning. From some strangers, not from this region.”

“Holidaymakers maybe?”

“They definitely belong to some shady organisation. I just hope they keep their hands off our Pokémon.”

I rub my hands on my trousers several times before stroking my hair once and ultimately moving. I have no clue about holidaymakers in Alola and who Team Skull is supposed to be, but if there’s someone there who might have a spot open for me, it shouldn’t matter. I can deal with anything.

My legs are getting faster with every metre. Whatever happens at the port, I hope it’s something in my favour. Something that plays in my hands, like Tauros did.

The sound of the sea draws closer. My heart throbs. Heat prickles my cheeks and as I stumble around the corner, it’s hard resistance I collide with – again.

I’m too frantic, too hasty, but this time it’s not a Pokémon blocking my path. Instead, I stumble back, my eyes firmly on the guy in front of me. The black suit on his body gives him an important look and simultaneously, he is never older than twenty. The stoic expression in his eyes, the motionless face, nothing about him seems to catch anything of those seconds. All that remains is his motionless posture as he appraises me.

“Sorry.” Embarrassed, I put a hand on the back of my head. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

He only gives a short grumble. A sign that he has noted my words, and that he doesn’t care about any of this. His eyes wander over everything there is to see within reach – one of the docked ships and the street with the pretty trees at the edge behind me. It takes a while before he really lingers on me. His chin-length, wavy hair dances under one of the sea breezes. The two contrasting colours distract for a moment.

“Are you a native of this island, miss?” The violet of his eyes pierces me. Almost as if I am the only one who can answer that question for him.

“No,” I reply curtly. “But I’ve been here for a few days. Is there anything I can help with?”

Not like I have the slightest idea which fucking direction to send him in if he wants to go somewhere specific. I only know the island roughly. The rest is in the shadows of uncertainty.

“Have you seen a Rayquaza, by any chance?”

I gulp. He’s pretty direct with his question, which means he’s looking for information; like a real adventurer. Maybe this suit is just a farce and behind his current appearance is actually someone exploring the world. Suits make people more trustworthy and professional – at least visually.

If I tell him I have no goddamn clue what a Rayquaza is, but that there was a black dragon and I could understand it, maybe he’ll invite me to join his team. Of course, that’s just dreaming, but no one said I couldn’t dream a little.

Half in thought, I open my mouth, ready to throw him a few crumbs and hope he gains interest in me, when someone else’s loud exclamation intervenes.

“Hey, yo! If it isn’t some losers just begging us to shut them down! Let ya Pokémon roll over and ya’ll save ya an embarrassment!”

Instantly, my gaze wanders to the side – straight to two guys whose get-ups stand out oddly among what you usually see in Alola. The black, short clothes and the scarf that hides half of their faces make them look like robbers. Even the white shoes and the strange cap don’t make it any better. Only the bright blue hair on one sets an accent. The other wears a boring dark green.

“Well, what are ye waiting for? The weather can’t get better than this!” Greeny, as I affectionately christen him in my head, waves his arms wildly while his partner nods his head in agreement and pulls out a Poké Ball. They really want to mess with us.

Without further ado, the two lunatics send their Pokémon into battle; a Rattata and a Zubat. Small Pokémon that shouldn’t be underestimated – based on the fact my Pikipek chased away a Grimer.

The man I bumped into isn't too intimidated by our opponents either. He simply releases one of his Pokémon from a ball that he has detached from his belt in a flash. I’ve never seen something like that building up in front of him before. His Pokémon looks like it’s wearing dark purple armour. Its arms are half sword and it is at least as tall as an average human. In those seconds, I would kill for my Pokédex.

But there’s no time for distraction. We have two opponents, which also means that it’s best to face the problem in pairs. Using Ying is out of the question, but it’s the perfect moment to strengthen my bond with Pikipek. So I let it out of the ball, just as silently as the man at my side did.

“Would you like to choose your opponent?” Again, the stranger turns to me.

“I’ll just take whatever flutters in front of my Pokémon.” That means my opponent is Zubat.

Everything else fades into the background. In those seconds, it’s just Pikipek and me. Two new friends who need to get their act together and even though I barely know what attacks it has, I’m sure we can beat a Zubat.

“Peck!”

Pikipek listens to my command and puffs up as it fixes its opponent. Then it flaps its wings and rises into the air. For a moment, the two seem to fixate on each other before a hissing sound escapes the Zubat and my opponent raises his arm.

“Supersonic!”

It is a second Pikipek has awaited as if it has already watched more than one fight. In a flash, it rises into the air as the Zubat opens its mouth and makes a sound. But Pikipek doesn’t listen. It has flown so high that the sea breeze must be louder than its opponent’s attack and it isn’t fazed for a second as it swoops down in a flash and lets its beak thunder hard against the Zubat’s body.

The Pokémon’s pointed teeth flash as its yelp catches in its throat and even as Pikipek comes back to me, it tries to catch itself in mid-air. It seems to have its problems with the place, with the sun and with the fact that it can’t see anything. Using ultrasound in a fight must be difficult. Almost impossible. And its trainer isn’t smart enough to warn it of every problem. He’s no good at replacing the Pokémon’s missing eyes.

“Pikipek, finish it! Show me what you can do!” My voice is as firm as if I were fighting alongside Zorua – as if I could give Pikipek the same confidence I give her.

And my Pokémon is intent on achieving this victory. Its wing beats become firmer until they buzz, and the gust of wind Pikipek releases moments later seems to carry voices towards the Zubat. The confusion of the echo makes its foe flutter more unevenly.

“Zubat! Supersonic, dammit!”

This time Pikipek doesn’t get to rise before the Zubat releases its scream. It rings in my ears, makes me grit my teeth and shake my head. It’s a bit like having your thoughts twisted. But it’s nothing I can’t get through. Pikipek, however, I’m less sure about.

It lands on the ground and retracts its wings as if waiting to get better. It’s a condition that’s impossible to assess, yet leads me to believe that Pikipek is seeing the world a little differently right now.

“Try peck again!” My command probably only gets through to my Pokémon wrapped in cotton wool. But it still seems to understand what I want.

However, it doesn’t understand the circumstances.

Looking at the ground, it tilts its head as it looks at its own feet. Then it tilts its head in the other direction. It appears to gauge whether that on the ground is indeed its opponent and, as it lunges with its beak, I can only call out its name. Simultaneously, Zubat lunges forward.

It attacks my Pikipek at the same moment as it pecks itself on the foot. Soft enough to not hurt itself, but hard enough to leave a scratch that makes it flap nervously. The pain doesn’t last long, however, before Zubat gets caught in my Pokémon’s plumage and rams its fangs through the feathers into Pikipek’s flesh.

Only at this moment does it become obvious that I have completely misjudged Zubat. Its massive body almost buries my Pikipek underneath it. It is at least twice as big as my Pokémon and its blue body seems too heavy to lift. Pikipek disappears under Zubat’s weight.

And yet this little sparrow is much more stubborn than I expected. My command still seems to linger in its head and just when I think this Zubat is going to suck every drop of blood it can get, Pikipek pecks it in the wing. The pointed beak bores straight through the purple skin, leaving a hole that tears open even wider as Pikipek wildly struggles.

The Zubat’s scream sends another stinging tingle across my skin. Immediately, it backs away, unable to lift itself into the air again. The lack of feet makes the long slender legs at the end of its body useless. All it can do is sit on its belly and hope that its trainer has slightly more brains than what he has put on show so far.

In fact, he understands the circumstances and immediately reaches for his Poké Ball to put Zubat back in it. “What is this, a joke? What’s going on?”

Briefly, his gaze hurries to the side and I follow his attention to see the unknown Pokémon knock his opponent straight into his owner’s arms, unconscious, with one well-aimed blow. The latter clutches his Rattata in such a panic that he can’t bring himself to do more than barely stutter. The two don’t need to speak to each other to know that they have lost and the realisation chases them away.

They leave nothing more than a cloud of dust in the middle of nothing.

Meanwhile, the unknown Pokémon finds its way back into its ball, while Pikipek settles down in my arms. Stroking its soft feathers is a little success.

Only then does the stranger turn back in my direction. “My question still stands, miss. Have you been able to sight a Rayquaza on this island?”