Chapter 12 - The One and Only Ice Boutique

One Island wasn’t as big or beautiful as the islands Celeste had visited in Alola, but she thought it had its charms. For starters, all buildings seemed to follow a common motif: they all had something purple. Some had purple ceilings, some had purple window frames and a particular house had one of its walls covered in a vibrant graffiti depicting a battle between an Arbok and a Cloyster. Amid the purple, streaks of green shone through, with foliage bursting from corners of streets and spilling out from parks, and the vast blues of the cloudless sky and ocean embraced every corner of that place.

Summer was over, but not quite.

Despite One Island’s quaint charm, the real draw there was the surrounding wilderness. Towering above the town, Mt Ember loomed. Its name, like a lot in that town, was a reverence to the biggest legend around—the bird of fire itself.

“Here we are, Moltres Promenade!” Celeste chimed as they turned the corner into what looked like the town’s high street.

The promenade consisted of a row of different shops, restaurants, and cafes. All facing the sandy shores of a beach where a few morning joggers and their Pokémon passed by. Celeste could only smile as a girl and her Aipom ambled past them. It was still early in the morning, so the town was slow, but for someone who’d spent the past few days in the middle of nowhere, it felt riveting. As she, Delia and Aria moved past shops organising their displays and setting up tables, the scent of sea and morning coffee filled the air.

Perfection.

The PokéMart they were searching for was supposed to be at the tail end of the street, in front of a Moltres’ statue that gave the promenade its name. Delia looked completely out of sorts as Celeste and Aria tried to stop at every single shop they saw on the way. Not that they could help it. Missing civilisation had that effect on people.

“Wait, your Magcargo helps with roasting the coffee?” Celeste peered at the beans a generous shopkeeper had handed her, while keeping an eye on Aria playing dare with the Magcargo in question. Its magma bubbled while her Eevee teased it with a paw just inches away. “Isn’t Magcargo like, super hot?” she asked, making sure Aria took that as a warning before she got hurt. “How come the coffee’s not burnt?”

Like this, conversations would go on and on.

It was only when Celeste almost dragged them to a tour of the ‘Devon’s museum of precious stones’ that Delia drew the line.

“Either we stop somewhere to eat or we keep going to the PokéMart,” she put her feet down.

Celeste’s attempt at a pout fell flat. “We don’t have money, remember?” She’d got them free coffee and if Delia didn’t rush them so damn much, she might’ve got more freebies.

Her friend crossed her arms. “And whose fault is that?”

Great. That discussion again.

The night before, after they finally got to the centre, Celeste had indulged in a long bath, a meal, and ensured both she and her Pokémon received thorough check-ups (and a new cast). Returning to the room she and Delia were assigned, she found her friend fretting over a brochure. Turns out the Sevii islands were quite a long way from mainland Kanto, and the Seagallop Ferry was way too expensive for two girls with a combined budget of nothing.

This realisation led to an argument that evening. And then to another later on. And another the next morning.

The first one started with a very unwelcoming bluntness from Delia. “I’m pretty sure being on a TV show makes you rich. You should ask your parents for money.”

Celeste’s response was the loudest snort in the world. She couldn’t believe Delia was being serious.

“You know, I’m actually friends with some actual famous people. I have this good friend in Kalos who’s…” Celeste had tried deflecting at first, but stopped when Delia glared. “My family isn’t even that rich. The TV thing earns them just a bit more than the university salary…” Her excuses dwindled to nothing, ending in a defiant huff. “Nope. I quit it. Not calling them.”

No point in getting a lecture by her mother, right?

Each clash left Celeste in a worse mood, but also more resolved to prove her point than before.

Or at least that was the case before morning came.

“Plan A: We sell my Thunder Stone. Maybe that collar thingy too.” Celeste had proposed. She’d had a terrible night’s sleep and given this a lot of thought. “Plan B, which should really be Plan A because it’s better: I get money from battling.”

Delia, killjoy that she was, voted on Plan A.

Thus, their journey to the PokéMart continued.

Slowly.

—*——*—

The Moltres’ statue was tacky. It was painted in purple hues that seemed flat out wrong and adorned with a lavish array of gems. Rubies gleaming in the sunlight lent a fiery sparkle to its flames, while sapphires standing for the eyes made its gaze deep. The inscription at its base read:

— FROM THE MINERS OF ZAPAPICO. MAY THE ASHES ALWAYS BRING LIFE ANEW. —

“Beautiful, ain’t it?” a middle-aged man with a disturbing toothy grin crept in behind the girls. “We have a big Paldean community here. Guess folks wanted to leave those dirty mines and live the good island life instead.”

It took five seconds for Celeste to decide she didn’t like this man, but before she could open her mouth to point out on how wrong his stereotype of Paldea was, Delia redirected their focus to a nametag on his chest.

“Do you work for the PokéMart? We’ve been waiting for it to open.”

The man, scrutinising their wind-swept appearance, ushered them into the store. Celeste had got a new shirt from Nurse Joy, but the rest of their clothes, and faces, still bore the effects of being battered by the sea. There was supposed to be a lost and found box they could raid in the centre, but neither really had the drive to look for it during the previous day.

As they made their way inside, the man gave his disturbing smile again. “What can I get you today? We have a big sale in Luxury Balls,” he said, running his hand over a shelf with the items in question. “Why not give your pretty Eevee a treat? Or maybe you are interested in Potions for the rough days in the wilderness?”

Aria wagged her tail excitedly, though Celeste was a hundred per cent sure her Eevee had no idea what a Luxury Ball even was. Still, when she shook her head, Aria stuck her tongue out.

“Sorry sir,” Delia stepped in. She had that same polite smile and smooth voice she’d used with the first mate on the ferry to Pallet. “We’re actually here to sell a Thunder Stone.”

In an instant, his smile vanished. He let his eyelids drop as he leaned back on a shelf, taking the Thunder Stone with disinterest.

“Hmm. Doesn’t look like a quality Thunder Stone to me…” the vendor said. “I suppose I can give you 1000₽?”

“Only 1000₽?” Delia protested, the smile still polite in her face. “This is worth at least ten times that.”

“1500₽ maximum.”

Delia’s lips quivered, but she insisted on negotiating. She didn’t raise her voice once, and sounded really smart about the entire thing—she even offered to add a cutting-edge Pokémon collar as a bonus. Unfortunately, it was clear the vendor was an asshole who’d already made up his mind. It didn’t surprise either of them when he kicked them out of the store for not meeting dressing standards.

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On a PokéMart.

“That was uncalled for.” Delia dropped her smile once the door shut behind them.

“Maybe we were being too nice?” Celeste punched the air, with Aria mimicking the motion. Delia just side-eyed them. “Right… uh, do we go for Plan B, then?”

Delia cocked her head. “You mean battling?” She paused, then put up that smile again. “It’s a bad idea. What happens when you lose and have to give money to your opponent?”

“If I lose.” Celeste rubbed the back of her head. “I… won against that Gyarados…” Right?

“Yes… but…” Delia pressed her hands together. “Let’s put a pin on this for now.”

They stayed quiet for a moment. Celeste’s first instinct was to argue, but… that deflated quickly when she thought of the last few Pokémon battles she actually remembered. Golem and Machop, a disaster. Tentacool, horror. Gyarados… badass, apparently, but she didn’t even remember it.

“I saw a sign at an ice cream shop we passed by. I think they may be looking for help,” Celeste finally said.

Delia looked up thoughtfully. She didn’t bother with the smile this time. “Ice cream shop it is.”

—*——*—

“The one and only Ice Boutique, where frozen dreams become reality.”

Celeste giggled at the sign.

Perched on the beachside stood a small kiosk known as The Ice Boutique. Unlike the rest of the promenade, there was not a shade of purple in sight, yet it made the nearby Moltres’ statue seem a masterpiece. Its design, complete with pillars, arches, and a spiralled roof, struck Celeste as oddly familiar, yet distinctly out of place. On its own, the architecture would be okayish. However, adding to the decoration were large, blue, velvety curtains with a snowflake pattern. In a beach.

“That’s tackier than the statue,” Celeste said, too amused.

“You think so?” The sound of a rather stern voice took them by surprise.

Behind them was a petite, dark-skinned woman with short, spiky, silver hair and intense dark-green eyes. She could’ve been beautiful, but the deep lines on her forehead, which made it seem like she was frowning, made her intimidating instead.

“This area is reserved for customers,” the woman continued, placing a tray on the counter. She had no emotion in her voice whatsoever. “If you’re not buying anything, I’ll have to ask you to leave. Or call security.”

As if on cue, a Vanillite hovered into view.

Was that… security?

Celeste wanted to giggle again, but the ice cream shaped Pokémon had the same glare and frown as the lady talking to them, and that… was surprisingly daunting, even making Aria tense.

Come on, it’s a Vanillite, she wanted to tell her Eevee, but had the good sense of not making things worse.

Delia, thankfully, came in for the save, with a polite smile on her lips and smooth laugh. “Sorry. We… were just joking around. Kids these days, you know?”

Celeste stiffed under this woman’s gaze. She gulped, and she nodded, muttering some words to support Delia. The ice cream lady raised an eyebrow, turning her nose up. She was short and Celeste was not, but in front of her she felt like a speck. Even the Vanilite seemed like a giant.

“What do you two want?” she finally asked.

Seizing the moment, Delia gestured to the help-wanted sign. “Actually, we noticed you might be looking for help. We adore ice cream and would be thrilled to lend a hand, if you’re still hiring.”

Much like the man in the PokéMart, the woman’s appraisal was piercing, as if judging their very worth. Stepping closer, she inquired, “And why should I hire you?”

Delia smiled, less politely and more relaxed. Her response was confident, detailing her experience in her mother’s restaurant and Professor Oak’s lab, her skills with cooking, organising and a bunch of other things. It went on for a while, but by the end of it, the shop owner, who introduced herself as Olga, seemed sold.

Or at least she was on Delia.

Then, turning to Celeste with a fixed frown, she asked, “And what is it you can do?”

Celeste floundered instantly. All she could do was open and close her mouth several times. Somehow, the time her parents forced her to do media training came back to her, and yet she seemed completely unprepared for this sort of interview. Aria snorted at the situation, but when Olga moved her eyes to her, she tensed, too.

Eventually, though, Celeste managed to form words. “I have an Ice-Type…” she said, as if that qualified her for the job.

Olga, not entirely convinced by Celeste’s argument, admitted they were short-staffed and conceded to hire them. “We have standards here,” Olga warned, the lines on her face deepening. “I expect the best from all my employees.”

The girls exchanged a worried glance.

Working at an ice cream shop should be easy and fun, right?

—*——*—

Working in an ice cream shop was the worst!

First Olga droned on about her grand vision she had for the Ice Boutique, telling them her shop would be a staple in Kanto and beyond. Currently, she had branches on One, Three, Four and Six islands and soon she’d be opening in Viridian City, but she wanted to go further. Her ice-cream was meant to be a household name, it seemed.

Celeste could sort of get behind this. Dreams and all. Cool. But, after the short initial pitch, Olga showed up with the world’s ugliest uniforms. A winter get-up of sorts, complete with a bowtie and a hat. It was warm. Seriously. What the hell?

Then she started listing the rules.

And oh bo-oy there were a lot of rules. Smile like you mean it, bow to clients like you’re meeting royalty, keep your Pokémon tucked away. Those were the rules Celeste could somewhat understand, but the list went on. She had to smile, but laughing was out. Slouching? Forbidden, Olga’s employees had to have posture. Making friends with the customers? Forget it.

It was pure torture.

And just when Celeste thought it couldn’t get any worse, she was demoted to table duty for not keeping a straight face at a “Tamato Strawberry Delight” order.

How was that flavour even allowed to exist?

Despite Celeste’s misery, however, Delia was thriving. Behind the counter, she was a natural. She created a system for organising the ice cream by taste category and took minutes to master the menu. From there, she began to recommend flavour pairings that made customers’ taste buds sing. It’d been an hour since they started working, two since they met Olga, and yet she was earning all these proud nods of approval from their boss.

Again. All that in less than two hours!

“Sorry… it’s hard to balance stuff with my cast…” Celeste said, rubbing a napkin on a Bulbasaur’s bulb. The Pokémon and its trainer were clearly annoyed that she’d dropped ice cream on them, but it was Olga who’d been shooting the coldest, iciest glares at her. Definitely no pride there.

Just as Celeste braced for being fired, Delia swooped in, diverting Olga’s attention with some talk about combining Pinap and Teriyaki. “I think the contrast would bring out a unique flavour, miss Olga…” she insisted, leading the woman away from Celeste’s mess.

With any luck, they’d be away forever.

—*——*—

It was late in the afternoon, near closing time, when a trio of teenagers showed up.

“Here you go. Double Vanilla and Tamato for you.” Celeste made sure both the tray and her face were steady before serving one of the boys. “And for each of you, a plain Strawberry Delight.” She dipped her head and smiled, proud to have memorised the weird names Olga gave to her flavours.

Not that it mattered. No one at that table even bothered thanking her.

“I steamrolled that Ivysaur with Flame. Wasn’t even a fair fight.” The boy speaking reached for his Tamato ice cream with a very smug look on his face. Celeste couldn’t help but stop. She put the empty tray beneath her broken arm and, like she meant nothing, began cleaning the neighbouring table. Despite Olga’s rules and constant scolds, she’d picked up the habit of eavesdropping and even butting in on people’s conversation whenever the topic was interesting. And when they were trainers? She called it research for when she inevitably got fired and had to really dive into the battles for money.

“You are amazing, Rey,” one of the other teens said, leaning closer. His eyes were on the boy’s—Rey, apparently—chest. Not in the creepy way, though. He was greedily eyeing the fancy sunglasses dangling from Rey’s shirt… which was… well, it was actually creepy all the same. Celeste recognised the brand of the sunglasses: Veracidad. It was supposed to be expensive as hell.

“Yeah, Rey, you are the greatest trainer on the island,” the other teen added, bringing Celeste’s attention back to the conversation. She discreetly looked over at them, and this Rey guy seemed to be basking in the other teenager’s attention. He leaned back, letting his smooth silver hair, tied down in a short ponytail, wave with his motions. His dark skin—same as Olga’s—glistened with the late afternoon sunlight.

“Looking for something?” Rey asked in a smooth voice, his dark green eyes—again just like Olga’s—peering right into Celeste’s. The sudden attention sent a flush to her cheeks, her words tumbling out in a clumsy jumble.

“Ah… Sorry… I just… I’m kind of… I… mean… uh…”

Delia’s timely intervention pulled her back from the brink of total embarrassment. “Celeste!” she called out, looking unimpressed at Rey. Then, with a whisper, “We still have work. At least pretend to be doing something before Olga comes back.”

Rey’s laughter, carrying an almost melodic quality, filled the air as he stood up. She looked up at him, not very tall, but incredibly well dressed, if only a little too posh. His shirt was buttoned up and tucked inside a pair of white shorts and a leathery belt with three Pokéballs hung from the side.

“Speechless?” he asked, fiddling with the sunglasses. There was a small smirk on his face. “You are way too pretty to be this flustered, you know?” He reached for a loose lock of Celeste’s hair, tucking it behind her ear, which only deepened her blush.

With a deep breath, she let her eyes rest on the boy’s Pokéballs. If… he was interested in talking, maybe she could get him to share a few tips on training?

“I… Hi?” She waved a hand. “Ce-Celeste.”

Arceus.

She bit back her awkwardness. “I mean… I’m Cele—”

“What do you think you are doing?”

Before she could muster another word, Olga cut her off. Her tone was so chilling that she wondered if Vanillite was using some move.

Celeste looked desperately to Delia for an out, but it was Rey who spoke up in a much less amicable tone. “Please, mother, you can’t expect me not to talk to your prettiest employee.”

The word mother had Celeste’s jaw dropping.

“Besides, she’s my date tonight,” he added, with a mix of charm and defiance in his tone.

“Wait what?” Celeste blurted, the first complete thought she’d managed to articulate. Though it was probably too little too late. All she could really do was watch for Olga’s silent fury brewing up.

That was not ending well.