Chapter 10 - Adrift

Celeste chewed on her mouth as she doodled with a stick through the sand. On one side, lay a sketch of their lifeboat and on the other, all the designs for the tarp-sail she and Delia had come up with.

Delia, ever the doubter, had thrown her hands up at first. “There’s no way we can make a decent sail,” she’d argued. Yet, when they actually examined the tarp, with its handy little hooks around the edges, she turned around to a “Maybe it’s feasible.” The hooks looked promising for lashing the tarp to a makeshift mast. Add another stick across for stability, and voilà, they had a sail. Their only problem was figuring out how to anchor it to the boat. Hopefully, some combination of rocks and more rope would do the trick.

Celeste tapped a design in the sand. “I’ll try this one next,” she said. “Do you want to be here for testing?”

Delia shook her head. “I don’t think you need me.”

Testing meant putting their sail against her Vulpix’s Powder Snow, which was the closest to a gust of wind they could make. Celeste thought it clever, but it also demanded some patience, as she’d found out Powder’s cap on the move was three times before she needed to rest. Still, they hoped to set sail as soon as something worked, so Delia had busied herself with foraging for supplies.

Later that day, after Delia returned with a bundle of sticks in her arms, she looked concerned. “I’m worried about us starving out there,” she told Celeste. This islet was generous with driftwood, but sparse on the berry front. They’d considered looking around at the neighbouring ones, however, to Celeste it was out of question. The sight of Tentacool lurking near the shore was enough motivation to leave those poison-filled waters as fast as they could.

“We’ll manage,” Celeste assured, fumbling with a stubborn knot. “Can’t be worse off than we are now, right?” She beamed, hoisting the sail for inspection. “How does it look?”

Delia’s gaze flitted from the makeshift sail to the peaceful scene of their Pokémon dozing under a nearby tree. A chuckle escaped her. “I think if worse comes to worst, we can always eat Slowpoke tail.”

“HEY!” The protest was half-hearted, their laughter mingling with the sea breeze. But was Delia actually serious…? Celeste wondered, settling her eyes on her Pokémon.

She peered over Pat first. It was his turn out—she and Delia had agreed on having the Slowpoke and Shelly out on alternate shifts. She then moved to Powder on his side. Soon, they’d need her help to test the sail. Usually, she’d feel bad about waking any of her Pokémon, but they’d all been sleeping a lot. Turns out Pat knew Yawn and had little qualms about using it all the time. He also knew Water Gun, which had led Celeste and Delia into the old age debate: should they drink Pokémon water in an emergency? It could make them sick, but if they ran out of coconuts… well… better sick than dead.

“We should take that cast off your hand before we leave.” Delia cut through Celeste’s thoughts.

“But… I need it,” she replied.

Delia pointed to the fraying edges with sand stuck to the inside. “Don’t want to risk an infection. There’s a reason you should keep it away from the water. And no, Oran Berry paste will not help.”

“Alright, Aria can cut it up with Swift,” with a sigh, Celeste conceded, side-eyeing her sail. “Gotta wake Powder for our test, too. Fourth time’s the charm, right?”

—*——*—

Sail nine was the winner, or at least it was as close as they were going to get. They’d burned through the better part of two days figuring it out, ending up with something that looked more like a parasail than anything else. Slabs on the edges of the tarp gave it some structure, and they’d tie it to the hooks on the lifeboat. Their plan? To let it fly like a giant kite when the wind blew in the right direction. While Celeste was busy making sure the sail wouldn’t take off without them, Delia was hunched over the sand scribbling with a stick. Not fun doodles, though. She had a very boring inventory list.

“Extra berries will go to the Pokémon,” Delia declared, her tone all business. “Shelly and your Slowpoke are first on the list for the extras, as they are our main steerers, then… do I put Powder next as she can give us extra wind? Or will she break our sail again?”

Celeste grimaced. “Come on, she only broke two.” It wasn’t her fault that wood didn’t take kindly to freezing.

Delia just ticked off another item on her list and ploughed ahead, undistracted. “If we’re smart with our portions, the berries could stretch a week. We’ve still got two energy bars and that half-eaten chocolate for emergencies,” she added, shooting a mean glance at Aria.

Again Celeste tried to smooth things over, awkwardly. “Chocolate is her weakness.” On cue, Aria let out a defensive bark. It was actually her own fault her Eevee stress-ate Delia’s hidden sweets when the poison incident happened.

Not amused, Delia continued. “Paddles, we have three left. And please, no need to excuse your Slowpoke for having sat on it.” Her rundown moved to water supplies before Celeste could even jump in with Pat’s defence—who probably didn’t realise his favourite nap spot was also their storage area for paddles.

Celeste began zoning out halfway through the list. It was… a bit much. Delia had detailed everything from rope lengths to the state of her empty Pokéballs and even the broken Seel collar and her Thunder Stone.

“So questions?” she finally finished.

“I don’t get it,” she stared right into Delia’s eyes. “You’re the most methodical person I’ve ever met.”

Delia’s expression tightened. “Not everyone can be—”

Cutting her off, Celeste waved dismissively. “Not that. I’m just trying to figure why you got to the deck of the ferry that day. I mean, it was off limits, and looking back, seems kinda out of character for you to be reckless.”

That caught Delia off guard. “It was,” she admitted, fiddling with the stick. She pondered for a moment. “Like I told you, Pallet feels too small sometimes and Cinnabar was a breath of fresh air. I just wanted one last moment with it, wind in my hair, and all that.”

Celeste tilted her head. “Getting nostalgic over a trip that just ended?” It was a foreign concept to her. “Ever think of just… not going back to Pallet?”

Delia got up and began organising more things on the boat. When she turned back to face Celeste, she had a small, measured smile. “Let’s not waste the daylight, okay?”

Celeste sighed. Everyone has things they don’t want to talk about.

—*——*—

The wind’d been pushing southeast for most of the day, which was a bummer. They knew the continent was somewhere up north, and lifting the sail now would be a bad idea. Celeste really wanted to see it working.

She absentmindedly stroked Powder’s fur, eyeing Pat as he lazily dragged them against the current. The water danced under the breeze and shimmered with the sun as Delia tried to use a makeshift fishing rod. Aria, still being punished for her chocolate theft, was supposed to be on lookout, ready to Swift any catch into submission. Instead of attacking anything, the Eevee was just yawning, bored out of her mind. Their journey so far had been smooth, except for a moment they thought they saw a shadow of Sharpedo. If it was, it never bothered with them.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“What do you think of type specialists, Delia?” Celeste mused, twirling a lock of Powder’s fur around her finger.

Delia spared her rod a frustrated glance. “Never thought much about them. Why?”

“Dunno.” Celeste shrugged. “You’d have two Water-Types if you actually caught something.”

“And who said I’d keep it?”

The thought made Celeste pause. Then, realising the implication, her face scrunched up. “I’m not eating Pokémon!”

Delia couldn’t help but chuckle. “Not even up for a slice of Slowpoke tail?”

“Drop it, you’re fixated.”

Delia’s laughter faded as she began talking again. “You know, my mom ran a diner back in Pallet. Nothing fancy, but really cosy with home-made meals. She put Slowpoke tail on the menu once, priced it sky-high, but never kept any in storage. I remember asking her what she’d do if someone actually ordered it.”

And Celeste was all ears.

“She had this whole scheme to ‘borrow’ one from the Professor’s lab.” Delia’s tone took on a wistful note. “‘Straight from the source. It’d be Cerulean fresh,’ she’d say.”

“Your mum seems fun,” Celeste said, thinking of her own mother. She was fun, too. When she wanted to be. Which happened as often as Tyranitar learning to Surf.

The conversation lulled, Delia giving Aria a half-hearted nudge as a school of fish teased them by swimming just out of reach.

“Did anyone ever order it?” Celeste asked, hoping to keep Delia and mostly Aria entertained—the Eevee’s mood was shifting from bored to downright mutinous. “I mean, order the tail.”

“I… actually don’t know.” Delia kept her gaze on the water, while Aria seemed to be scheming something from the corner of her eye.

Celeste sprung up, catching her Eevee mid-pounce with a reproachful look. “Maybe I’ll go to your mum’s place when we get to Pallet. Skip the tail, though. What’s the second most expensive thing there? I can get that.” She suppressed a laugh when Aria pouted at her. “I gotta find my wallet, though. Or I’ll have to call my mum to ask for money… and that would be the… worse? Delia?”

By the water, Celeste noticed her friend’s shoulder trembling up and down as she stifled quiet sobs. Delia wouldn’t turn around.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Celeste’s voice was soft, a tentative hand reaching out, only to feel Delia stiffen, then try to shrug it off with a mumbled apology. “It’s okay to cry… the past few days were hard. Is… this about your mum? Thinking about home while we’re here, of her food and all that… I get it. It’s a lot. It’s scary to think we might not get back.”

Delia’s sobs broke free. Less restrained, she let her fishing rod slip from her grasp into the water below. Celeste exchanged a helpless glance with Aria, both unsure if rescuing the rod was the priority. Words failed her, and not even some joke came to mind to lighten the mood.

“I won’t get to have her food again…” Delia’s words were choked between sobs. “Sorry, I just haven’t… cried like this in… in years.”

Drawing Delia in to sit beside her, Celeste mustered the sunniest smile she could. “We’ll make it back, I swear it,” she assured. “We’re getting out of here and—”

“She’s gone…” Delia’s words were a whisper, yet they landed like thunder.

“W-what?”

Those big, tear-filled eyes met Celeste’s. Delia wiped at her face, trying to suppress her cries.

“Three years ago… she passed…” her voice was small. “I was a few months into my journey, having the time of my life in Viridian, when they called me to tell me about the accident.”

Celeste’s heart sank. Her words from moments ago echoed hollow. How insensitive must she have sounded like—actually, no, this wasn’t about Celeste at all. She took Delia’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m here… if you wanna talk.”

Delia attempted to gather herself. She turned to the water and away from Celeste and began rebraiding her hair.

“I don’t know what came over me,” she said, trying to make her voice steady. “It’s been so long… I don’t… I’m over it.” She paused, her hands frozen in place, before she continued fixing her hair. “I used to help her in the restaurant… I was good at it. Shopping, organising and all that. Then I left, and she was alone… distracted with her shopping list… never saw to the truck coming.”

There was a silence then, and Celeste watched her friend’s hands move with precision. She wanted to say it wasn’t Delia’s fault, but… how many times must she’ve heard it before? “I’m sorry,” she simply said.

Delia’s eyes were distant when she spoke again. “After everything happened, Professor Oak stepped in. Sorted out the mess that was left behind. I started helping at his lab as a way to say thanks… and because he really needed it.” A small smile danced on her lips. “You asked how I ended up as his assistant? That’s how. He’s brilliant, sure, but keeping things in order? Not his strong suit.”

Celeste shifted her position. Even Aria was silent. Thankfully.

“And you never got back on your journey?” The question was gentle, but it hit Delia all the same. Her eyes began to swell with tears again.

Inhaling deeply, Delia seemed to weigh her words, “I’m with the Professor now. Got responsibilities and… I can’t just leave…”

Celeste could sense there was more under the surface—unspoken fears, maybe hidden wounds. She wrapped Delia in a hug that was a bit clumsy but full of intent. “Hey, I didn’t mean to pry,” she murmured. “We’re in a fucked up situation, and it’s okay to let it all out.”

Delia’s response was to wrap her arms around Celeste.

And then she cried. Until the tears no longer came and sleep took over.

With the sun setting and her friend finally at rest, Celeste recalled her Slowpoke and gently retrieved the Pokéball containing Delia’s Shellder, who she’d caught on a fishing trip with her mother. She let the Pokémon out, its confused gaze meeting hers. This was still Pat’s shift, after all.

“I think we all miss our mothers when the night’s dark and we get scared.” Celeste mused, stroking Shellder’s shell gently. “Delia’s missing hers. I think it’s okay to be adrift for a while. Stay with her.”

Placing the Shellder beside her sleeping trainer, Celeste then lay down, Aria and Powder close by, her mind drifting to her own family. Memories of their travels filled her—stories her mother shared of distant lands and her father’s cooking that brought a piece of his Paldea into their lives every Friday night. She recalled how, in the middle of the night, they’d sneak into the pools of the fancy hotels they’d stayed and how it was always funny when her father released his Wailmer in the water. And she thought about how her mother always dragged them to the most obscure places in the towns they visited. She also thought of the never ending arguments, and of the expectations she didn’t want on her.

She fell asleep thinking.

—*——*—

By the next morning, Delia had snapped back to her usual self, the conversation from the day before staying unmentioned. They talked about a lot of other things, though. Having conversations became as comfortable as the silence between them.

Routine bloomed.

Aria and Powder were always out. Pat would be there during mornings, Shelly would take afternoons while they alternated on nights. Delia would fish every day after lunch, though the only eventful thing that happened was her fishing a Magikarp once, and it was quickly put back into the ocean. With Aria roped into assisting, an unexpected duo emerged. Aria’s sass, when met with Delia’s unexpected kind comebacks, threw the Eevee for a loop. That usually ended with Celeste in a fit of laughter.

Powder, surprisingly, seemed perpetually grumpy. Celeste had thought she’d be scared. Cuddles helped a bit, while getting back to her Pokéball made it worse. Getting splashed with water was somehow the worst of all. Shelly took on a role of using Protect around her at the slightest sign of trouble, though she often missed when the splashing came from one of Aria’s pranks.

On the fourth day, when the wind finally blew north, Celeste was ecstatic to see their sail come to life. Pat got a well-deserved break from towing them then. During lunch, they watched together as their sail danced with the wind and the Slowpoke nibbled a Tamato berry that was clearly too much for him.

“I’ve watched your TV show, you know?” Delia joined them, picking up the berry to peel it. When Celeste glared, she simply said. “It get’s milder like this.”

“W-What?”

She smiled innocently. “The peel is the spicier part of the Ta—”

Celeste intensified her glaring, making Delia stop with a giggle.

“I realised it a few days ago. I’d already thought you were familiar when the Professor showed me your picture,” she said, placing the berry down. “Why did you hide it?”

Aria sat by her trainer’s feet, half-lidded eyes and a coy smile. She was waiting for Celeste to fumble over her words.

“Not my TV show,” Celeste muttered.

“Well…?” Delia leaned in.

“I want to be taken seriously, that’s all.”

Rolling her eyes, Aria nabbed the dropped Tamato and motioned to the Slowpoke, leaving Celeste to navigate the awkward silence that followed. Her cheeks matched the berry’s hue, no doubt.

Luckily, their conversation was abruptly sidelined by the lifeboat’s sudden jolt. Celeste sprang into action, and away from that conversation, to check the sail. She noted a group of Mantyke and Mantine gliding past them, some disrupting the water around.

“We’re fine,” she said, tapping the sail’s knot to check its steadiness.

“What’s got you thinking you wouldn’t be taken seriously? It’s pretty cool how you and your parents—” Delia pressed, right before another shake interrupted them.

“More Mantine?” Celeste leaned in to check on the water. She saw a flurry of Goldeen racing southward, against their course. “That’s… odd,” she said, alarm bells ringing in her head. Could this be another Wailord?

Her hand hovered over the sail’s knot, ready to drop it if needed, her gaze sweeping over her Pokémon. Aria was alert, Powder focused, and Pat… well, Pat was just being a Slowpoke.

“Brace yourselves,” Celeste warned, but the ocean was calm. “Maybe it’s nothing…?”

She turned around, only to see Delia frozen. Her gaze locked on something more ominous—a large, serpentine shadow weaving through the water towards them. Celeste’s heart stopped.

There weren’t many Water-Types who look like giant sea-snakes.

“P-please, tell me that’s a Milotic.”