Lyra attached herself to Ethan like a symbiote. Every day since Claire has met the young girl, there she was following her like a puppy. Claire couldn’t help but encourage her, finding herself lost in the words Lyra said when she talked about pokémon.

The orphans in Cherrygrove talked about legends and powerful trainers, somewhat, but usually only ones that were alive. Lyra was obsessed with learning about pokémon, like the stories Claire read about. Like Connor Winters, a trainer who beat the league at fifteen, only losing to Lance two years ago with a bibarel as his starter and with only three other pokémon on his team. Or the handmaid's tale about being weary of ghost pokémon by telling the story of a haunter who killed a class of young children by tricking them with toys. Lyra introduced her to the term “lick like a haunter”, which was a rather dark joke of a saying about being enthusiastic about eating.

Lyra also used the term, “pulling a Connor Winters”, about a trainer who was trying to beat the league with a rattata, like Green did in Kanto. Lyra drug him around random people’s houses because Cherrygrove was bigger than New Bark Town, but still rather small. Everyone knew everyone. Lyra had been running around like a wild child doing her mother’s errands for the past year already.

Some part of Claire, and even the part of herself that is undeniably just Ethan, finds it shocking that her parents just let her roam around without guidance even in the small pass to go north to get from New Bark Town to Cherrygrove. Then she quickly realized that adults often would accompany Lyra on the hour walk back to her hometown and he just didn't notice. Even their resident gloomy doctor would be found following her with his chansey chittering with Marill rolling at their feet.

“Ethan, come with us!” Lyra said very shrill, very loudly, but Claire didn’t mind it as much as she should have. Lyra was a child, and Claire would rather go along with what she wanted than to upset her for no reason. She was about to tell Lyra that yes, she would, when she saw who was walking Lyra home today.

Dr. Smith was squinting down at her, and Ethan flinched back slightly at the annoyed look on his face. That was all the convincing she needed to start going on the walks with Lyra back to her house from then on. The doctor just gave his new skitty a snack from where it was laying on Chansey’s head. When Claire asked Lyra what Chansey's name was, she made a face. Apparently Chansey didn't want a name, like Marill didn't want one. So, they just called them by their pokémon's names.

Totodile was ecstatic at this new development. Marill was his new best friend. He and the other water pokémon would dance and play around for hours. They even did water training together, which was quite literally hosing both her and Lyra in water in the warm, Johto summer air.

Walking on the path to New Bark Town was scary the first time, even with a level 36 chansey being higher than the baby type bug pokémon, little caterpies and weedles peering at them from the trees and grass. Rattatas sometimes walked on the road to sneer at them but often scuddled away with a cheer from Chansey. At the end of their journey was Claire's worst fear, old aunties pinching her cheeks. All the ladies in New Bark Town loved messing with him because he just squirmed quietly.

Lyra's parents both adored Ethan, and she was often trying to wiggle away from their polite teasing and prodding.

The people just grew used to Lyra lugging Ethan around like a doll. (The boy didn’t seem to have the nerve to tell her no to them. While Claire, honestly, was just nerding out because eleven-year-old Lyra seemed to know everything. The child part of her that existed because she was a child physically, and in some part Ethan himself, had a bad case of child-worship for the girl. And Lyra, being the demon child she was, knew it).

The culture of Johto was only slightly different from what Claire was used to, or thinks she was used to. (The memories, besides the pain and bittersweet love she felt for her past life, were starting to fade.)

It was as if everyone just acted like a more private, closed off family from her culture, but as the norm instead. She assumed it was because this region of the Pokémon world had very obvious influences from Japan, and her culture was the very upfront, loud aspect of being American. But Ethan, what people saw Claire as, was a shy boy, and didn’t speak much, so people had very little reason to call him impolite at all.

Only the older people, or the very proper ones, Lyra said, had houses that still had mats and such. “Mats and such”, being her own words.

“My grandparents still use those, I forget the names, though! Tami? Tami mats, I think. I guess some people in Johto still use them, but it sounds like a Sinnoh and Kanto thing. Ethan, you are such a nerd. Wait, I heard something about Okura Tetsuya this morning, can you believe that she is going to try the circuit again this year?”

Claire did not know who that was, at all, so she shook her head silently and waited for Lyra to inevitably tell her all about it.

…

Totodile woke her up in the middle of the night. It was right when the Johto heat was starting to become intolerable, knocking down the lamp he was gnawing on and waking up half of the other kids that shared a room with her. The poor eight-year-old, Lucas, across from her started crying from being startled by the sound of the glass breaking. Jacob, the other boy they shared the room with, scorned Totodile loudly. Ethan had to calm both of them down with gripes and a few childish ‘be quiets' before they settled. Totodile’s crocodile tears helped, of course.

Claire was confused, in an ironic way, that Totodile was chewing on something. Totodile never misbehaved, besides trying to play with every pokémon he saw in the town and on the roads. The jaw pokémon looked rather agitated and sad at the foot of his bed after all the commotion.

There was a look in Totodile’s eyes: like at the bridge of that river. Like in that hospital bed.

“Toto, are you hungry?” Claire whispered, gently putting the pokémon back on the floor, where he usually slept.

The pokémon answered by sniffing and staring at him. Claire could tell that he was upset but the twitches in his tail and the lowering of his head, and a sick feeling grabbed at her throat.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Are you sick?” Totodile shook his head, and then adopted a grim look on his face. Claire could only gasp, trying to be quiet for little Lucas in the corner of the room trying to sleep again, as the pokémon jumped on her bed.

“Totodile! Get down!” The pokémon did the opposite, cuddling up to her lap and pressing his head on her chest until Ethan was forced to lay on his back. Then, the water pokémon made his nest on her shirt and laid on Claire until he started snoring.

Claire could have thrown Totodile off, maybe and surely, but instead her heart was sinking. Fuck, she hesitantly petting the pokémon’s cool scales and tried to resist the urge to cry.

How on earth was she supposed to get rid of Totodile now? After spending all their meals together? After walking and learning how the pokémon moved, breathed? Somehow, the pokémon sleeping in her bed made her realize how foolish it was that she had even attempted to not get attached to her pokémon.

And Totodile was heavy, about ten pounds and growing still. The weight on Claire’s heart, physical and emotional, prevented her from sleeping for most of the night.

…

The answer was easy: Claire had to accept that giving away Totodile would upset her greatly, which was the best option frankly, or just get rid of Totodile immediately. Claire was selfish, and now part of her didn’t want to get rid of her new friend at all. Totodile made her so happy. All the consuming void inside of her shuddered at the pure love and devotion that radiated from the pokémon.

But if she loved her pokémon, which was terrifying, truly, she couldn’t just abandon him with no forewarning.

The other was to get rid of Totodile as fast as possible. To save herself and Totodile from further suffering. Lyra told her stories about pokémon who would wait years for their trainers. Specifically, she thinks of the story of the ninetales that spent her whole life exploring the world, so that she could tell her owner about it when she died.

What if it was too late, what if Totodile wouldn’t accept a new trainer at all? She was so fucking stupid for letting the professor give her Totodile in the first place. Claire wanted to slap herself in the face, and Totodile had been whining all morning at the terrible mood she woke up in.

She should have fought against the professor harder. She should have just gone back to the bridge and finished the job. Suddenly Claire didn’t want to be in this town at all, the only reason she didn’t go somewhere, to let some pokémon kill her, was her own cowardness and Totodile staring at her from across the room.

Matron Mary was confused at Ethan’s sullen mood, and left breakfast on the table like she always did when Ethan didn’t get out of bed or stayed in her room. It made Claire sick, looking at that food. She didn’t particularly have the stomach for it or felt like she deserved it. She gave it to Totodile who didn’t eat it either.

Fuck, Claire hated this.

Then Lyra showed up. If she noticed that Claire hadn’t left her room, or that her friend Ethan looked upset or angry, she didn’t show it.

“Ethan, I looked everywhere for you!” Claire suddenly realized that she also had a headache, joy. Lyra was wearing her favorite orange shirt today, with little charmanders running across the bottom. Marill peeped in greeting, but Totodile didn’t return it. Instead, he stared at the ground dully and did not respond to any of Marill’s chittering.

Claire’s little sister loved shirts with cats on them, before. Before.

“When we go on our pokémon journey Ethan, we have to see the Kimono girls perform the play about the Johto legendary pokémon- it’s called The Legend of the Ecruteak Towers, by the way, I heard that it is life-changing. They have these projections they use-”

“Lyra, will you take Totodile?” Claire hadn’t meant to say anything, at all. The words came out of her mouth without her permission entirely. Lyra looked shocked, mouth open and her hands twisting together in front of her.

“What?”

“Will you take Totodile on your pokémon journey? Will you be his trainer?” Ethan pressed, speaking fast before Lyra could keep speaking.

“Why is something wrong?”

What isn’t wrong? Claire thought sardonically.

“No, I just don’t want to be a trainer.” Claire said, watching as Lyra’s face twisted.

“But he is your pokémon…” Lyra said bluntly. Claire was agitated at the words. Everyone and their mom seemed to have the same idea about people giving their pokémon away, it seems.

“Lyra, will you take him?” Claire pressed on, standing in front of Lyra and taking her arms. “Could you please take him? I am going to go away soon.”

“Where are you going?” Lyra said, eyes narrowing at him. Which would’ve been weird on another child’s face if it wasn’t eccentric Lyra. “Where are you going that you can’t take Totodile?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just tell me you will take him.” Claire deflected. Totodile nudged her leg, but she jerked away. Lyra looked disturbed.

“No, I can’t just take Totodile! Totodile loves you.” Sick anger rushed through Claire’s head. Anger at herself, the world, her words. She wanted it to all stop.

“Leave.”

“Why are you trying to get rid of Totodile? He hasn’t done anything wrong!”

“Lyra, get out!” Claire was so fucked up for yelling at a little kid, but with how her head was pounding she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was stuck as a fucking kid again. She just felt so stupid for asking Lyra to take Toto at all. She knew how much Lyra valued the bonds between Pokémon. Lyra converses with her Marill with no effort, what the fuck did she expect?

Marill was chittering nervously at Lyra’s feet, but Lyra ignored her to rush at Claire.

“Don’t yell at me!” Lyra said childishly, she then proceeded to push Ethan hard enough that she fell down to the ground. “You made Totodile upset, you should feel bad.” Totodile had started his sharp barking when they both started yelling, which made this feel like a full-on fight.

Claire wanted to tell her that she frankly had no idea what she was talking about, that even if Totodile felt bad now, he was going to feel a lot worse when Claire decided to go eat some poison berries.

“Lyra, if you don’t get out, I’m going to tell Matron Mary.” It was childish, a cheat to bring an adult into their kid argument, but Claire was so done with everything.

“I’m telling Professor Elm you are trying to get rid of Totodile!” Lyra declared, rushing out of Claire’s shared orphan room at her own accord.

Totodile stopped barking when Lyra left, and nudged his head against her shoulder from where she was still sprawled against the floor. Claire felt worse than dirt as she picked herself up to curl on the bed.

Honestly, she thought, maybe the professor will just take Totodile back and solve that problem for her. Maybe he’ll realize that Ethan, as both Claire and a ten-year-old boy, didn’t deserve to have a pokémon loyal as Toto anyway.

Claire didn’t have the energy to push Totodile away when he crawled into her arms. Selfishly, she let the pokémon comfort her as she thought about how she could get rid of him.