Ring, ring, ring! Ring, ring, ring!

“Bzzt – incoming call from SoNIa – bzzt,” Rotom announced.

“Thank you, Rotom. Put her through.” Oliver raised the phone to his ear. “Sonia, what’s up? It’s been awhile.”

“Oliver! You’ll never guess what’s just happened! Or maybe you’ve already heard, do Unovans keep up with the Galarian League?”

“Sorry, I’ve been a bit… preoccupied today, it’s not time for the championship already is it?” Oliver asked, turning his back as a strong wind gave life to a sandy twister from the nearby dunes. Eevee had happily taken up residence within the warm zippered confines of his windbreaker, preferring to remain out of his pokéball and the sand.

“It’s Leon! Oliver, he’s become the champ! Undefeated!” Sonia was ecstatic.

Leon. A flood of memories rushed through Oliver, many happy ones giving way to bitter and then finally indifferent emotions.

“That’s… brilliant, really. I’ll bet the rager they throw in Postwick is gonna be legendary. At least one of us was finally able to get that sleepy knoll on the map, eh?”

“Gee Oliver, don’t sound so chuffed, will you? Look, I,” her voice softened, “…feel the same as you sometimes, well a lot more recently, having stagnated with my research and all. But you’ve done amazing things, I mean, you’ve left Galar! No one from Postwick leaves Galar. The three of us are each on our own paths. Just because Leon peaked early doesn’t mean his peak will be the highest, yeah? It’s Applin and Oran berries.”

Oliver let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “You’re right. I shouldn’t compare us like that. It’s really quite an accomplishment. So, what’s next for him? I imagine a tour of Galar and endorsements out the ass.”

“Poetic. I imagine something like that. With any luck South Galar will see a tourism bump; honestly, the Wedgehurst Station has been barren. I’m often the only one riding the southbound train past Motostoke. Embarrassing, really. Though I must say your mum has been making more frequent trips to Motostoke lately, I’ve enjoyed the company.”

“Has she?” That’s news to me, I guess I should call home more. He stroked Eevee’s head absently.

“Vee?” Eevee questioned sleepily, waking from his nap.

“What was that?!” Sonia perked up.

“That would be Eevee,” Oliver smiled. “He’s just waking up so why don’t you say hello? Eevee this is Sonia, a friend my age from back home.” Oliver switched the call to video chat and set the Rotom phone to float out in front so that Sonia could see them both.

“An Eevee! Oh, he’s adorable. Oliver, how?!”

“If only you could see your face right now, you’re absolutely gobsmacked,” Oliver laughed.

“Vee? Eevee!” Eevee was amazed at the image of Sonia moving and speaking through the phone.

Sonia narrowed her eyes, “You didn’t do anything… illegal, did you?”

“What? No! Eevee helped me round up some goons for Burgh and then decided to team up with me for good, right Eevee?”

“Vee!” Eevee vouched, now licking a paw to correct what must be the Eevee equivalent of bed-head.

“Burgh? As in Unova’s Bug-type Gym Leader Burgh?! And goons?”

“You know If you keep leaving your mouth open like that a Dewpider will crawl in,” Oliver smirked.

“Wow, OK, processing. Give me a minute. Are you coming home soon? I have to meet this Eevee,” Sonia paused thoughtfully, “where are you?”

“Route 4, headed back to Nimbasa City from Castelia. It’s bloody sandy and miserable out here but at least we’ll be settling into our own beds tonight.”

"That's where the Desert Resort is, right? You must be sick of the sand."

"You have no idea," Oliver laughed.

“Let's circle back, I’m still trying to wrap my head around this ‘we’ bit. You were always such a lone Lycanroc when we were kids, you didn’t even want to attempt the Gym Challenge. I guess everyone realizes the value of companionship eventually,” she added teasingly.

Oliver gave her a flat look, “It’s as you said before, different paths. I wouldn’t have gone pro if I’d been devoting all my time to playing Pokémon trainer.”

“So, will you register now? As a trainer?” Sonia looked devilishly interested.

Oliver peered down at Eevee who had taken to eyeing the landscape with passive interest. “We’ll see. I think I’ve got a few more competitive years of water polo left in me first. Trainers make out OK with sponsorships, but it’s nothing compared to my salary now.”

“Ohhh I see, Mr. Money Bags.”

Oliver flinched.

“Well, I hear the World Regionals have started, you’ll play the Malie Mareanies, right?”

“So, you’ve been keeping tabs on me after all.”

“What? Of course I have! Oliver, whether you acknowledge it or not, you’ve got all of South Galar staying up past midnight to watch Unovan water polo. We care about you! You should see your mum’s garden, she’s planted everything blue for the Nimbasa Carracostas,” Sonia laughed.

Oliver grimaced. Whatever Sonia thought, it wasn’t that he didn’t care for the support of his hometown. On some guarded level he was appreciative, perhaps even proud, but he couldn’t allow himself to really feel their approval. Not fully. He was too afraid of letting them down, as if accepting credit for their highs would make him culpable for their lows.

“We play them the day after tomorrow. A win would take us to the World Cup,” Oliver offered soberly.

Thoughts of his responsibilities surfaced like a raging Gyarados. The coaches had ordered the team to rest up, no heavy exercise allowed. Technically he wasn’t supposed to leave Nimbasa either, as management didn’t want to risk any of the players getting injured or otherwise detained before the match. But nearly every day of the past 10 months, through all of the training, travelling, and matches, he had promised himself he’d search for Eevee at the first opportunity. It was thoughts of Eevee that had kept him going. If anything, I'll compete with more clarity now that Eevee's with me, he justified.

As a professional athlete it was uncomfortable to admit, but as much as he was looking forward to the possibility of competing in the World Cup, he was now equally looking forward to the off-season, a time where his only responsibility would be taking care of Eevee. And to begin training the little guy. We can’t rely on Burgh or anyone else, Oliver thought darkly. Leon wouldn’t have been phased by Plasma at all.

“…Oliver?”

Oliver snapped back to reality.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“I can see I’m losing you now, so I’ll let you go. Good luck in your match!” Sonia smiled brightly. “Know there’ll be crews holding down the local pubs in your honor.”

“Thanks, tell everyone I said hello.”

“And Oliver? Visit home soon, huh?”

Oliver smiled softly and she was gone.

----------------------------------------

Ring, ring ring! Ring, ring, ring!

“Zzz – incoming call from BuRGhY BuRGh – zzz.”

“Let him through, love,” Elesa stated, putting aside the sketches her lead designers were proposing for the ELECTRA label three seasons from now. As tempting as it was to continue her glimpse into fashion future, this was a phone call she had been looking forward to.

“Good evening darling, word on the street is you made the acquaintance of my protégé yesterday," she opened gleefully.

“Oh, you should have seen him,” Burgh drawled, “he was suave to say the least. Strong boy-next-door vibes, but, you know, with those Pokéstar Studios looks of his. A rare combination that only seems to come out of small towns, it boggles the mind. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Undella Collection sells out before hitting the rack this year.”

Elesa poured herself a generous glass of red wine, walking it out to the south-facing balcony of her penthouse. Her view of the Castelia City skyline was unparalleled – and so was her eye for identifying promising new recruits.

“I should really consider expanding my collection to include menswear,” she said, sipping her wine thoughtfully. “I wonder if I could convince the Carracostas to share him with me.”

“Good luck with that. He was worried they’d discover that he skipped town, even if just for two days.”

“And the life drawing? How did you manage that?” she pried.

“Ahh it would seem our mutual friends are more loyal to you,” he laughed, “or simply that taken with Mr. Phlox.”

“Don’t play coy with me now, I want details,” she teased out a commanding tone. “Is it true what they say? Is everything bigger in Galar?”

Burgh whistled, “Like a Dynamaxed Steelix.”

“No!” Elesa cried, “I expect you to give me a heads-up next time there’s a class I should join.”

“You’re terrible. But noted, noted.” Burgh fell silent.

“Elesa,” Burgh started again, “I had a run-in with two Team Plasma grunts this morning.”

Elesa narrowed her eyes, “Go on.”

“They broke into Castelia Park intent on catching multiple Eevee. Oliver actually helped me round them up – I know, he’s becoming even more like you – look, I’ve filed reports with the league and the feds but it could take weeks for them to formulate and coordinate a response. I expect our cities will see early activity, seeing as larger cities have more blind spots. The mayor and I have already instituted patrols for the Park and other vulnerable areas, I suggest you pre-emptively consider the same.”

Elesa took another sip of her wine.

“Did you get any information out of them?”

“Unfortunately, their lips were sealed once we revealed ourselves and, well, literally sealed by Leavanny later on. They’re in federal custody now, hopefully we’ll get word if they crack,” Burgh paused, “though we did overhear that the Eevee were intended for a ‘Triad,’ which presumably represented Plasma members they described as ‘rabid,’ somewhat ominous in my opinion.”

“And their Pokémon? Were they well-trained?” Elesa asked as one of her Emolga glided to her shoulder, expressing interest in the fruity aroma of her vintage.

“The man I battled used a Purrloin and three Patrat that weren’t particularly effective, but Elesa,” Burgh’s tone became even more grave, “the Purrloin was afraid of him. While it was clear the Pokémon weren't well cared for, I can’t shake this sinking feeling that the Purrloin had also been stolen. As for the other trainer, Oliver battled her. I only caught the end of it, but she was using a Sandile that appeared moderately well-trained. It didn’t seem to me that the Sandile was afraid of her, but hearing Oliver recount the battle… Elesa, Sandile attacked him.”

The glass stopped mid-way to Elesa’s lips. Stealing Pokémon was a serious crime. Commanding Pokémon to harm humans was asking for a life-sentence. To go so far as to risk a life-sentence for grunt-level work….

“I see. I’ll call the mayor and discuss a plan of action tonight. They didn’t… hurt him too much, did they?”

“He was bloodied up, but nothing permanent, I think. He actually ended up inspiring an Eevee to join him,” Burgh stated, “truthfully, I’m a bit concerned for them with Plasma afoot, I mean, he’s not even a trainer Elesa. Watch over him in Nimbasa, will you?”

“Of course, leave it to me.”

“Let’s hope to get to the bottom of all this soon. Until next time babe, I bid you adieu,” Burgh affected romantically.

As the call ended Elesa pressed against the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. The sketches would have to wait until tomorrow. For now, it seemed she had more urgent matters to attend to. An emergency meeting with the mayor, of course. Some appropriation of resources was in order – patrol for the city proper and watchmen at all points of entry. She doubted Plasma would attempt anything large-scale at this stage, but Nimbasa would certainly make for an attractive target when they did decide to escalate matters – the city was never wanting for popular events that drew large crowds.

And then there was the matter of Oliver. Elesa kissed Emolga sweetly as she tabled her glass. Searching through her medicine cabinet she found the set of small jars she was looking for and selected one. She dropped it in a sachet along with a quick, hand-written note, sinched it shut, and gave the small package to Emolga with instructions for its delivery. She watched from the balcony as Emolga flew away in the direction of the amusement park.

She would protect her city.

She would protect them all.

----------------------------------------

The sun had long since set when Oliver and Eevee arrived home, having stopped to browse Join Avenue on their way into Nimbasa City. Eevee’s curiosity was unbridled. They ended up purchasing a collection of berries, a few Pokétoys, and a Potion, just in case. Upon seeing Eevee, a shady vendor had even pulled him aside, opening a flap of his khaki trench coat to reveal a complete collection of evolution stones tucked neatly into clear pockets. While the deep cerulean Water Stone had been a tempting sight to behold, he ultimately thanked the man and made his exit. He wasn’t comfortable making that decision, especially given how young Eevee currently was. Instead, he had resolved that Eevee should be the one to decide if and when he was ready to evolve, and into which Pokémon.

After a tour of the apartment for Eevee’s benefit, they quickly showered and made an abbreviated dinner. Eevee ate his well-balanced, somewhat bland athlete’s fare without complaint. As an omnivore, Eevee’s natural diet didn’t stray far from his own, but he was still impressed when Eevee tackled the peas and sweet potatoes with as much gusto as the chicken.

Next, he completed his nightly body-weight routine consisting of planks, a variety of push-ups, handstands, and sit-ups. Eevee wasted no time adding his weight to the planks, resting happily on Oliver’s back. He even started mimicking the push-ups and handstands, though he wasn’t so sure about the sit-ups. Once finished, Oliver collapsed on his bed in exultation, prompting Eevee to hop up with his own contented trill. His industrial, fifth-floor studio apartment offered decent views of Nimbasa’s theme park, of which Eevee seemed particularly interested in the lights of the Ferris wheel. He radiated delight watching them flicker in and out of existence.

Just as his eyes were drifting shut, Eevee bolted upright and assumed an offensive stance.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The sound coming from the window was irregularly intermittent. Reluctantly, Oliver rose, adjusting his boxer-briefs as he made his way over to investigate. As he reached the window, an Emolga carrying a small package in its mouth bumped into the glass before gliding away again.

A low growl gathered in Eevee’s throat.

“It’s alright Eevee, I don’t think this little guy is here to mess with us.”

Eevee relaxed a fraction and approached warily.

Oliver unlatched the safety apparatus of the window, opening it as far as it would go to allow room for the Sky Squirrel Pokémon to enter. With its next glide Emolga impressively navigated the gap and made a graceful landing on his bed, dropping the package with a satisfied squeak.

Scooping Eevee up in one arm, Oliver closed the distance to Emolga and examined the package. It consisted of a small mesh bag that contained an even smaller wooden jar and rolled up note. The whole thing was tied together with a lacy yellow ribbon.

“Emolga, this is Eevee, Eevee Emolga. Eevee, Emolga is a friend, OK?” Oliver stated, setting Eevee down on the bed. The fluffy brown Pokémon immediately set himself to sniffing Emolga, who, for his part, seemed very determined to remain professional throughout.

Unrolling the note, Oliver’s suspicions about the identity of the sender were confirmed.

Oliver,

I heard you took a bit of collateral in your recent battle. Apply a small amount of this to any damaged areas, you’ll look like new in the morning – no one will know the difference come game day. If you see any suspicious activity, text or call me at once.

– Elesa

PS Congrats on the Eevee. I’d recommend Jolteon eventually, they’re fast as lightning.

Locating a pen, Oliver flipped the note over and scribbled his reply:

Elesa,

Thank you for the ointment, management would definitely have asked. Now I can abandon my “mugged by a wild Purrloin” story. I’ll let you know if anything happens. And Jolteon? Not biased at all I see.

Thanks again,

Oliver

After rolling the note and replacing it within the sachet Oliver turned to find Emolga at wits end. The flying squirrel flew to him in relief, earning the tiniest protest from Eevee. Laughing to himself, Oliver cut two slivers from an Oran berry and gave one to each of them. Despite his professional demeanor, the offering proved too much for Emolga to resist. He chirped happily, tucking the berry sliver into the corner of his mouth before accepting the package. In a single motion he glided up and out of the window into the cover of night.

Oliver closed the window and quickly applied the ointment to all of the small cuts he could find. It produced a strange tightening sensation wherever it touched.

Wearily, Oliver finally settled back into bed.

I wonder how she knows where I live, he thought, stroking Eevee briefly as sleep overcame him.