Cyndaquil flared her flames, illuminating the alley with a flickering light. She said her name in challenge, and three Rattata exited a chewed-through hole in a dumpster to quickly surround her.
“Get ready, Mankey,” Sam said. “We’re jumping in if needed.”
Sam was poised to jump. Mankey was already tensing his legs. Half the purpose of this fight was to give Cyndaquil a chance to try something on her own, but even though she was the one to insist on it, Sam couldn’t help but to feel nervous for his friend.
Her head flicked around as the three Rattata circled her. She was doing her best to keep an eye on all of them, but that was hard to do when they kept angling to get behind her. They snapped at her and bared their teeth. Outside of an occasional shift to keep an eye on them, Cyndaquil was utterly still, preparing with all of her focus.
Then, a twitch.
One of the Rattata lunged forward.
Sam reacted right away. At the top of his lungs, he shouted, “Now!”
Fire exploded out from Cyndaquil’s back. Flames licked up the sides of her mouth. The attacking Rattata skidded to a halt, intimidated by the sight of the rising flames.
This wasn’t Ember, but a new move altogether.
As if preparing for a Tackle, Cyndaquil ducked her head down and then pushed forward off the ground. Except, she wasn’t trying for a basic slam, she was trying to get her flames to completely surround her. Her body rolled forward as her back blazed bright, but as so much of her focus was being spent on her fire, the movement only came out as a sweltering somersault.
Though still intimidating, it was nowhere near the outcome she wanted. For this to be an attack, Cyndaquil needed to roll at a speed equal to or faster than running, and she needed to let her flames completely encompass her form.
Still, the fire put the three Rattata on guard, and they didn’t lunge for an attack again, choosing to see what Cyndaquil would do next. Sam could feel the heat of her flames from where he was crouched several feet away, but seeing the disappointed expression on her face, he went ahead to give a signal to Mankey.
“You can help her now,” he said.
Mankey screeched. The primate leaped forward. Excited at the chance for a fight, he jabbed with the side of his hands to land a Karate Chop against a Rattata that didn’t turn to face him fast enough. The super-effective move was enough to convince it that sticking around would mean a losing fight, and it scampered away while squeaking for its two friends to follow.
They did.
Mankey slumped disappointedly, and Sam stood up, straining his ears. In the distance, he kept track of the faint sound of the Pokémon’s panicked footsteps rushing down the street until they suddenly vanished with a splash. He took that as a sign that the trio had disappeared into the sewers, which was what he wanted to hear.
“Alright. So Flame Wheel’s a no go for now,” he said.
Cyndaquil’s head drooped, and Sam walked over to pat and console her. Mankey gave her a thumbs up, but he looked a little annoyed there hadn’t been more to a fight.
“I know that Pokémon grow in stressful situations, but man, my heart is pounding,” Sam said, trying to improve her mood. “We’ve only managed to get so much training in, but that was three Rattata! Sure we didn’t directly beat them, but we scared them off, which means we’ve achieved something that makes us scary.”
He smiled at his Pokémon. Cyndaquil shook her head, a little exasperated as she recognized what Sam was doing. Still, it was working, as she was no longer as focused on her failure to learn a new move as before.
“Now, come on. This is about to earn us some money. Who wants to help me nail the board?”
Mankey held up a plank as Sam hammered the nails to keep it in place. The hole that allowed the Rattata to live in the dumpster was properly sealed, completing the job Sam was hired to do. The Pokémart employee that hired Sam wouldn’t need to worry every time he got close to the dumpster, and the plank was obvious enough that the employee would be able to see any teeth marks if the Rattata tried to return.
A few minutes later, after collecting the payment from the apron-wearing man, Sam counted his new total sum. To his name, he had sixty bucks. That was down from a hundred thanks to the sheer cost of Pokémon food.
Over the past few days, he had been purchasing supplies. After all, he refused to have a woman as kind as Redi’s aunt spend her hard-earned money to feed Sam and his team. His Pokémon were his responsibility, not hers. Though, she did still cook. He was just the one to purchase and supply any ingredients.
“The Pokémon Center updates the job boards twice a day—once in the morning and once two hours past noon. We have a few hours to spare until the next update, so maybe we should squeeze in a bit more practice?” Sam asked.
Mankey was in agreement. If there was anything Sam could tell from the monkey Pokémon, it was that Mankey absolutely wanted to become an Annihilape. Cyndaquil, though, she just let loose a chirping sigh from within Sam’s hood. The failure to figure out Flame Wheel was still getting to her.
“You’ll get it in the future,” he said, trying to reassure her.
Even with that declaration, Sam couldn’t help but feel unsure how to continue his team’s training. Repeatedly using moves to improve them helped, and so did the exercises that built up his team’s bodies. Still, despite being a trainer, he was worried he wasn’t doing anything specific enough to actually make a difference with his team. That was one of the reasons he had been so focused on doing jobs; Sam didn’t just want to make money, but the battles and physical labor that came from the work helped vary his team’s practice.
However, while the small flow of income was nice, Olivine was simply too crowded to give him the chance to find much decent work. Over the past few days, he’d only been able to take on jobs to fight off two different wild Pokémon and help one man load up a moving truck. His funds were slowly dwindling. At least, Sam hoped that the upcoming tournament would let him turn that around.
We just have to win, first.
Two days left until the preliminary matches. Two days left to train.
Sam’s thoughts on his current situation faded away as he became wholly focused on building up his current Pokémon.
“We’ll definitely have the usual round of exercise for Cyndaquil, but maybe we’ll include some rolling practice to help you with Flame Wheel?” Sam asked, idly walking down an Olivine street with no major destination in mind. “Mankey, I’m still not sure what to do for you. I mean, I think shadow-boxing is a thing, right? Maybe we can ask someone with a Rock Type Pokémon to make some boulders for you to attack.”
Cyndaquil’s practice was based on what they had done with his mother, so it involved a continuous build-up of her basics. Mankey’s practice, however, Sam wasn’t as confident about. The monkey Pokémon was a great physical attacker—he already knew Fighting Type moves like Low Kick and Karate Chop—but Mankey as a species weren’t great at taking hits.
Mankey had good agility at least, which meant he could more easily avoid attacks in fights. His stamina was different, but Sam wasn’t sure how to train physical defense without directly attacking his Pokémon—something he didn’t want to do. For all of his claims to be a trainer, Sam was feeling a decent chunk of self-doubt.
Are my Pokémon actually improving?
Should I try to figure out other training techniques?
Honestly, Sam was starting to regret not paying more attention to all of the different Fighting Type specialists back in Dewford.
“What if we...” Sam let his words drift off as he turned his gaze to the various stores that lined the street. Redi wasn’t around—she was currently training with Teddiursa on her own—and Sam didn’t have any specific goal. “What if we got a nice lunch?”
It wouldn’t be the training he mentioned, and the act would be a blow to his already dwindling wallet, but Sam was willing to take that hit if it meant getting closer to Mankey. Learning more about his newest team member might assist with coming up with a training plan. Cyndaquil, he knew well, but Mankey still felt like an enigma.
Glancing down to where Mankey hopped along at his side and feeling the weight of Cyndaquil in his hood, Sam nodded his head to reaffirm his decision.
“Yeah! Let’s get a nice lunch.”
It would cheer up Cyndaquil while helping his aforementioned worries with Mankey. Besides, Mankey’s eyes had already gone unfocused, and saliva was dripping from his fur-covered mouth.
Sam laughed.
I can add that to what I know about him—Mankey definitely likes to eat.
“I’ll see if we can find a restaurant that allows people to sit with their Pokémon,” Sam said. “It’d be nice to have a decent break.”
He wasn’t in downtown Olivine, but a portion of the city where the buildings were small yet filled with businesses. Most had displays advertising specific products—clothes, specialized tools, custom art, comic books—but he focused on what restaurants he could find.
His eyes skimmed over most of the options here. As a port city, there was a surprising selection of different types of food. Ramen, sushi, and other common Indigo-meals were present as expected. There were also a few places that advertised “foreign” food, namely meals based on the diets of people in Hoenn and Sinnoh. He was forced to pass up most places since he couldn’t afford too large of a drain on his finances, and by the end of it, he was almost ready to give up and buy some pre-made meals for an impromptu picnic in a park.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
However.
However.
Sam almost froze when he saw a restaurant that looked completely out of place.
“An imitation Kalosian place? Huh.”
Mentions of other regions were almost impossible to find. A restaurant that boasted an attempt to mimic Kalos was not just incredibly rare, it was practically unheard. That had already gathered his interest, but what drew him to it even more were the advertisements posted on its front that showed off just how cheap its food was.
Mankey ran ahead of him as Sam walked through the open front doors. He didn’t need to ask his team if they were interested, as Mankey was happy with anything, and Cyndaquil trusted Sam enough to follow along with whatever he said.
The layout was about as expected of most restaurants here—a long counter for chefs to stand behind with several tables and sets pressed against the walls. Photos and postcards of Kalos itself hung on the walls, and the tables were covered with white tablecloths, giving the place a fancier-than-usual feel.
Except, it was empty. There was absolutely no one else here.
“Hello?” he called out.
A bell rang as he passed through the front door, but no one came out to help him right away. Every single table was empty, and despite all the silverware already set out, there were no customers making use of them.
Sam actually turned around to check that he had correctly read the sign that stated this place was open.
He did.
It was just that empty.
“We’re here! Give us a moment!” a voice eventually called out.
He heard the sound of rushing footsteps and the rustle of cloth as, a few seconds later, a woman with a bob of brown hair burst through a door that led to the back. She was dressed in a waiter’s outfit that was as stereotypical as it went; it was complete with a black vest, white cuffs, and perfectly clean dress shoes.
“A customer! Would you like help finding a table?” she said, moving to approach Sam.
Sam glanced around at the empty room once more.
“Sure?” he said.
She smiled excitedly at him and led him to a spot only a few feet away. His Pokémon followed and either hopped up or were placed into chairs of their own. The waitress didn’t even blink at their presence. A sign outside had advertised this place as Pokémon-friendly, after all.
“I’m Matilda. I’ll be your server today. What do you want to order?” she asked, placing down laminated menus in front of Sam.
He looked at the menus, then he looked up at her. Mankey had already picked his up, except the Pokémon couldn’t read.
“Could we have a moment to decide?” Sam asked.
She blushed.
“Of course!”
She then scurried off to “subtly” watch him from the door she had just left from. He ignored her constant stare as he turned back to his team.
Thankfully, the menus here listed meals with both pictures and text. It allowed both trainer and Pokémon to figure out what to choose, and Sam helped his team make their decisions. He and Mankey both chose bowls of soup that were enormous but somehow cheap, and Cyndaquil just wanted a small salad for herself. Unfortunately, even with this place's incredibly reduced prices, anything too fancy was still firmly outside of Sam’s budget.
Only a minute later, Sam called the waitress back and placed everyone’s order. Everyone got drinks—water, because it was cheap—and as she left the room, Sam turned to Mankey, taking advantage of the restaurant’s privacy while also going through with one of the primary reasons he had come here.
“So, Mankey. I know we’ve been working together a lot, but we haven’t really talked.” Sam felt a little awkward. He had been with Cyndaquil for years, so he wasn’t sure how to go through with this. He ended up just stating it bluntly. “I want to learn more about you. What do you want to achieve, for starters?”
Mankey was rotating the menu around in his hands, but the Pokémon smacked it against the table to set it down when Sam asked his question. The primate’s eyes wandered off and went unfocused in thought as he rocked his head back and forth. Eventually, Mankey grunted and flexed his arms.
Strength, Sam translated.
“Ah, yeah.” Sam rubbed the side of his head awkwardly. “I guess that makes sense. I mean, we talked about reaching your final evolution. Then, I guess my question is why do you want to get stronger?”
He almost missed it, but he caught Mankey stiffening ever so slightly in response to the question. Mankey himself, however, brushed past it and simply nodded and grunted his name as if to emphasize his previous point.
“So, you want to get stronger... just for the sake of it?” Sam asked.
Mankey nodded and pointed at Sam to imply that was exactly right.
Except, Sam knew that wasn’t right. There was something else there. Mankey had frozen for an instant, after all.
If I think back to how we found him...
“But is.. Is that really the truth? What about how we found you completely on your own?” he asked.
This time, Mankey actually froze. His red eyes darted around, as if he was trying to think of an excuse. Eventually, he looked away, crossing his long arms, and Sam grimaced.
“Can I ask you to talk about it? Please?” Sam asked, leaning forward. “I’m your trainer. I want to get to know you better! Your goals are our goals, right?”
Mankey still didn’t meet Sam’s eyes. Sam stared, trying to put as much sincerity into body language as he could. Eventually, Mankey slumped in defeat.
The Pokémon made a show of pointing away and going through a few other motions. It took Sam looking at Cyndaquil for body-language translation to understand what the monkey meant.
“So... Later. You’ll tell me... later,” Sam said.
Mankey excitedly nodded, satisfied with Sam’s reaction.
“Alright,” Sam said. He nodded once to affirm his own decision. “I’ll offer my trust and I won’t bring up the subject until later. I know that there’s definitely something about how you were your own, but you don’t want to speak about it until you’re stronger. Were you caught and brought to this city? Did someone trick you here? No, wait. Don’t answer those questions. Ugh, sorry. I always want to learn more. Force of habit, I guess. Books are usually explicit about what information they contain.”
At least, Mankey did answer those two questions, likely giving Sam a show of trust as well. He adamantly shook his head no for both, as if to emphasize that he had never been caught or involved with another trainer. Rather, Sam got the sense that the Pokémon had somehow been separated from his pack, but he didn’t want to speak about it just yet.
I’m happy Mankey gave me something. This was a good decision! And if he wants strength, maybe we focus on power when training?
Sam hummed and looked over the menu again while thinking about how he wanted to train his team.
The food came out a short while later, giving everyone their expected meals. Sam and Cyndaquil started to eat, but Mankey slurped down his entire bowl of soup within seconds before turning to Sam and holding out the empty bowl, asking for more.
Sam stared at the monkey, both dumbstruck and impressed by just how gluttonous he was.
“You know what? Sure. Here.”
He pushed his soup over, and Mankey said his name excitedly before slurping it down just as fast. Sam half-regretted giving away his lunch, but if his Pokémon was happy, he was happy.
(He just had to ignore how his stomach was currently rumbling.)
He didn’t expect a voice to speak up behind him, though.
“I can bring you another bowl, if you’d like!” the waitress exclaimed.
Sam almost jumped right out of his chair when she spoke. He had completely forgotten she was here. The room was so empty and so lacking other people that he’d taken having the space for himself for granted.
“We’re okay!” he said a little too loudly.
“Oh. Alright,” came her reply.
She didn’t leave, choosing to silently stand behind him a short distance away, visibly ready to assist if needed.
“Are... are you okay?” Sam asked. He was a little unnerved by her constant presence.
The waitress’s smile wavered. Her eyes flicked around the empty room. Eventually, she let out a depressed groan and collapsed into a nearby chair, much to Sam’s utter bewilderment.
“No one wants Kalosian food!” she cried. “They’re too focused on Johto! But Kalos is such a beautiful country. Why doesn’t anyone at least try?”
Her face twisted up in distress, and Sam uncomfortably shifted around in his chair. He was fourteen. He was focused on becoming a Pokémon trainer. Helping someone who looked to be a decade older than him was decidedly not in his wheelhouse.
“Maybe people don’t realize?” he offered.
“That’s why I opened this restaurant with my dad. I wanted to introduce Kalos to the region!”
She sniffed. The awkwardness of the situation was almost painful. Cyndaquil stopped eating to poke at her half-eaten salad. Mankey held out the second empty bowl to ask for even more.
“Maybe... You know, I really think people just don’t think about Kalos,” Sam said. “I doubt anyone even knows any of its native Pokémon. All of the Pokédexes I’ve read were based on local species. I mean, can you even name any Kalosian Pokémon?”
She scoffed as if Sam had asked an easy question.
“Yeah, easy,” she said. “There’s Chespin, Fennekin, and Froakie as their starters. Then there’s also Fletchling and Espurr, too.”
Sam blinked.
“Huh. I actually think you know more foreign species than anyone in Johto,” Sam said.
The waitress suddenly shot up in her seat.
“Wait, you know them, too?”
Sam scratched at his cheek and debated how much to reveal.
“My mom owns a bookstore,” he settled on. “We get a lot of books. Sometimes I learn about foreign Pokémon, so what you said wasn’t too unfamiliar.”
That was a half-truth. He had learned of a handful of foreign Pokémon before obtaining the New Pokédex. Mentions of them were extremely rare and generally focused on Unova, but it was at least possible to figure out one or two Kalosian Pokémon names.
As for what he had learned out of the New Pokédex, it still wasn’t much. Most of what he read was focused around Johto and Kanto. Sure, when he saw an occasional new evolution, he would glance over it, but the New Pokédex was so dense that he had only barely skimmed the later parts. Even then, he tended to focus on the Ghost Types more often than not.
“So you’re a fellow connoisseur,” the waitress whispered, completely missing how Sam said he barely knew anything. “And I don’t mean a Pokémon Connoisseur, but someone who’s actually put time and research in! Oh, I’ve never met anyone else who’s looked into Kalos! Or even anyone who can identify its species!”
She was grinning wildly, now.
Sam uncomfortably cleared his throat.
“Again, I don’t really know that much, but it’s at least part of the reason I entered this restaurant in the first place. That, and the prices. I just haven’t had a reason to research Kalosian Pokémon since they can’t be found here.”
“But they can?” the waitress said.
Sam froze.
“I mean, some of them, at least,” she continued. “None of its more ‘physical’ species, but some supposedly foreign Pokémon can appear way, way off-route and aren’t limited to any one region.”
“...What do you mean?” Sam asked.
The possibility was enthralling. He had only wanted to get lunch, but now his entire world-view was being shaken.
“Okay, okay. So, like, there are Pokémon species that aren’t as, well, I’ll call them as physical as others,” she said. “A lot of those species can appear in certain circumstances, regardless of wherever they are. The most famous example is Bergmite! Bergmite are generally regarded as a Kalosian Pokémon, but they can be found high up in mountains, and I’m pretty sure they were in Sinnoh in the past!”
“Bergmite,” Sam repeated. “That’s... an Ice Type?”
She nodded. She looked extremely proud he had recognized it.
“Yup! They’re pretty cool. I think those kinds of conditions apply to Ghost Types, too.”
Sam sat up straighter in his chair, making sure to properly look Matilda in the eye.
“Can you give any examples?” he asked.
She leaned over and unconsciously tugged at her hair in thought before being able to bring up any specific species.
“Hm... I think... Phantump can occasionally appear in deep forests around the globe, and Honedge sometimes possesses old swords? Johto is old enough that I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re able to find either of them. Alternatively, ocean-based Water Types drift from region to region, but those are Water Types, not ghosts.”
Sam’s mind raced a mile-a-minute.
The New Pokédex only lists routes and caves as potential habitats. She’s talking about finding other species off-route.
Routes between cities tended to be patrolled by Pokémon Rangers to keep them safe, and as a result, tougher wild Pokémon usually stayed away. It was generally agreed that the Pokémon that lingered on routes were amenable to being caught but tended to be weaker in exchange. Most Pokémon-based discoveries centered around safe routes, but so much of the globe went unexplored that new, off-route discoveries were being made all the time.
But then... Why is the New Pokédex so limited? I mean, if it contains over a thousand Pokémon, it should at least have some information on when a species can be found off-route, right?
He had too many questions that needed to be answered. Sam shook his head to try to snap out of it.
“Thank you,” he said, genuinely meaning it. “I think we’re just about done eating, though. Can we pay?”
The waitress blinked.
“Oh, don’t worry about it!” she said. “Just make me a promise that if you do find any otherwise Kalosian Pokémon, you’ll bring them here to show me, right?”
“Right!” Sam said.
He wasn’t going to pass up a free meal, nor was he going to let someone who had been so helpful down.
He went on to thank her and helped his Pokémon off their chairs. The salad had been too much for Cyndaquil to finish, but she was at least feeling better now.
Mankey was a bit different. The second he hit the floor, he clutched his stomach and grumbled.
“Ate too much, huh?” Sam asked, amused.
The primate tried to wave Sam away, but he was now wobbling when he walked.
Thanking the waitress one last time and leaving the restaurant, Sam now had a lot more thoughts on his mind.
Foreign Pokémon in Johto. Off-route areas holding alternate species. How many different Ghost Types can I find? How many options are out there?
The future was filled with potential, but once again, Sam had to focus on the present. Whatever mysteries appeared down the line would need to be put off. For now, he had a Beginner’s Tournament to worry about, and he had a team of Pokémon that needed to be trained.