Mikala was pissed. No, that's not quite right, take that again. Mikala was frustrated. She was frustrated with Kau'i. Professor Oak, in his usual unusual teaching style, had been waiting for her and the other "trial-goers" when she got to the cafeteria for breakfast, and had lectured in circles about food and the expenses of caring for a team of pokémon. He touched briefly on sponsorships, which of course everyone had except Kau'i.
When she pushed the vagrant about it, the little snake had just said, "I don't need one.", and shrugged. One look at the ravenous appetite of Kau'i's Crobat, which ate like it still had the yawning abyss that passed for a mouth on a Golbat, told her that was patently impossible. Somehow, Kau'i was supporting her three pokémon team with the budget of a self-identified orphan, which logically meant she was stealing some, if not all, of her supplies.
When she texted her sponsor, Ilima, about it, he confirmed all her suspicions and more. Kau'i was an ex-Team Skull member who had been caught stealing by Ilima himself and was under constant surveillance by Kahuna Nanu. For whatever reason, she remained unsponsored, but whatever strings her kahuna foster sister had pulled meant the League valued her enough to allow the serial thefts. If there was one thing Mikala got out of those discoveries, it was a tampering of her assurance that Kau'i should just be a Poison-Type specialist already, because anyone in her situation clearly also has the makings of a great Dark-Type specialist.
Mikala looked down with a sigh to see the mess that thought process had made of her notes and turned to a fresh page. Team management was the focus of the day, not Kau'i. They would be given a crash course of everything from jobs, sponsorships, and expenses to team composition, roles, and new additions. Just as Kau'i had shown she didn't need much out of Tuesday's basic orientation, Mikala suspected she'd be the good example for Wednesday's lessons.
She knew both sides of the team expansion coin, whether thoroughly planned or spur of the moment, the priorities needed by both specialists and generalists, and had the foundational goal that preceded all of those decisions. Still, Kau'i had gotten some brief advice yesterday, so she didn't doubt Professor Oak would have a nugget of wisdom that she could chew on throughout the day. She would take another important step towards her goals, show off the fruits of her labor, and gain a foothold in her self-imposed mission to fix Kau'i's bad ideas.
Now she felt better. If there was ever a time Professor Oak would tell Kau'i straight to her face that her team building strategy would cripple her, it would be during a team management lesson. Mikala carefully erased the dunce cap and devil horns she'd instinctually added onto her crude drawing of Kau'i being steered straight by the professor. Kau'i was not a fiend or an idiot, she reminded herself; It was more like she fell out of a hole from another world and was set loose to scamper around and break all of the rules while hissing at everything. Mikala smiled and added alien antennae and fangs to the drawing before falling in line with the rest of class while they went out for the proper start of lessons.
"As you've probably guessed," Professor Oak began anew from the center of the semicircle teaching area, "today's lessons are on how to grapple with the more worldly troubles of being a pokémon trainer." The man didn't overgesticulate as he spoke, leaning onto and off of the podium to emphasize his words, but not once letting go of its sides. "We've already had my little pre-lecture lecture on feeding your pokémon, which can be summed up as, 'feed them well and feed them often!', but there's so much more to cover!", he said excitedly. Mikala's stylus danced across the tablet screen.
"Each problem ties back to the others, so forgive me if I go off track again. I think a good place to start properly is partner acquisition, both the thoughts and actions that go into taking a new pokémon under your care. The very first thing to keep in mind is that just because you found, helped, or even befriended a pokémon in the wild does not mean you have any right to force it onto your team. Pokémon are our friends, not tools, as I'm sure Hau and Kau'i can corroborate." He gestured to the two trainers whose pokémon had succeeded in passing a "friendship evolution", a Pikachu and Crobat respectively. "I have plenty of friends that are tools.", Kau'i snarked when the attention of the group fell on her. Professor Oak chuckled lightly and moved right along.
"Not every pokémon wants to fight, and as trainers you'll need to respect that decision. If you have the time for it though, I highly recommend taking care of a noncombatant. There's more to life than training, that goes for you and your pokémon." Mikala thought the professor's advice was excellent, and leaned forward to catch his words with better clarity. "Every pokémon has goals, wants, and hobbies just like you do; Meeting those needs is part of your job as their trainer. When you take a pokémon under your wing, you assume responsibility for them. If you're found to not live up to that responsibility, it can do terrible things for your position as a trainer."
The professor took a deep breath to explain his next point. "The most simple way to avoid failing your pokémon is to not take on responsibilities you can't handle. That starts with only catching or taking on pokémon whose interests align with yours. We all go into the world with grand plans, ideas that we could be champions, battle facility heads, or world renowned professors." Oak paused after his joke for a laugh that didn't come, before he continued, saying, "You may want to catch a certain species or form of pokémon, to make that perfect match, but it's a necessity that you settle for what will work in the long run."
"For example!", he shouted suddenly, "I wanted, when I began my research in truth, to have a Kantonian form of every pokémon that also had another regional form, so I could compare the two forms against eachother in detail. Catching so many pokémon, housing them, and accommodating the conditions that make their regional forms arise in the first place was all together too much for my poor teacher's salary, even with government subsidies. In the end, I've settled for paying trainers who already care for those pokémon for their time and using the biological data from my cousin's own research. Those sorts of compromises aren't the slightest bit uncommon, and you'll have to learn to make them."
Taking a moment to herself while the professor let his point sink in, Mikala glanced at the other students. Though her face was mostly obscured, Lillie's eyes were full of anxiety, no doubt beating herself up about her own mistakes with adding new pokémon to her team. Kau'i was paying attention, but not taking notes, despite having some old book Mikala had seen her scrawl in the margins of. Selene had been knocked out of her usual unexpressive shell, a cloud of doubt and worry hanging over her. Hau just seemed completely checked out. The reason behind it, whether because his grandpa had already taught him all of it a thousand times or because the spry boy just wasn't engaged by the lesson, was beyond her.
Mikala had to erase an erratic mark she'd made after Professor Oak began speaking again. "It's not all misery and compromise though! Just as often as you'll find yourself buckling down with something that isn't perfect, you'll come across a pokémon that fits all your needs and more! Just like a trainer can give an otherwise unmotivated pokémon a reason to enjoy fighting, your pokémon, new pokémon especially, can show you things you didn't know you wanted to pursue. Our pokémon reflect us. We learn from eachother and grow together. Let yourself go along for the ride, and they'll improve your life just as much as you improve theirs."
It was a sappy, sentimental argument, but one Mikala wholeheartedly agreed with. Oak really was preaching to the choir with her here, not that she could've said it any better. He continued on past that, slipping back to the topic of team composition without a moment's hesitation. He recounted famous competitive level battles and the roles each pokémon played in those battles, and further how each pokémon could also fill different roles in battles against different opponents.
He brought up Mikala's Buneary, how with the advent of mega evolution a Lopunny could be a strong offensive core. He moved to Kau'i's Crobat, which could serve as a sweeper or a utility, with an extra boon as a defensive pivot against Ground-Types for a Poison-Type team. Kau'i bristled at the observation. Finally, he talked about Lillie's Galarian Slowking, his passion for regional forms shining through as he described its ability to harass the other team with Regenerator and Chilly Reception in addition to its suite of utility moves.
"Now let's go to the training grounds!", he announced after finally taking a breath again. Beginning to walk, Oak explained, "I'll give each of you personalized advice while you train, since a comprehensive course on team management would take much longer than this week, forget fitting it all in today. I'll start with the important things each of you needs to hear, so you have time to think on it. Any plans or problems with your journeys can be brought to me, and the rest of the staff and I will offer our aggregate wisdom for your use. You youngsters need it more than us besides!" As he wrapped up, we had already gotten to the training ground.
Each of the students took their own field, since there was no set plan, and training began. Mikala sent out her team, going over her notes from the previous days on the ups, downs, and plans for the future. Cunic, her Buneary, needed to work on her strength. Grus, her Porygon, was working towards a faster processing speed. Konpei, her Minior, lacked the positional awareness they needed to work around their Shields Down ability. And she... She peered down at the other half of the notes from yesterday, frustrated and bitter words in a sloppy shorthand. She was missing something.
"You're a generalist, not a specialist. You have the benefit of breadth, a perspective that lets you focus on a pokémon's strengths not in relation to anything else. It's simple, lacking depth, but that perspective is powerful. Go back to your team and think about how to train them with fresh eyes.", Oak said to Hau, and Hau nodded furiously and turned to his team. It was hard to tell when the boy was actually paying attention, but he at least seemed to be actually engaged. Mikala wanted that kind of advice, the words that just clicked things into place. Oak moved on to Lillie.
Mikala tried to tune out Oak's lesson for Lillie on being more self reliant, but she couldn't convince herself she had succeeded after seeing her notes filled with the things the professor had said and a doodle of the scowl Lillie's assistant, Faba, had made for a brief moment when the professor started speaking. "You're still only a child," Professor Oak was saying, "you don't need to sacrifice yourself for the Aether Foundation." Lillie's eyes slid off to the side after that conclusion. Mikala was no mind reader, but she looked dismissive, which was not something Mikala expected out of Lillie.
Konpei was staring at Mikala, waiting for direction, and she pushed them away. "You have talent," the professor said to Selene, "more talent than anyone I've seen come through here." Selene reacted as if she'd been slapped in the face by a parent she refused to start a fight with. Oak paused, not expecting that reaction, before saying in a gentle but insistent tone, "Figure out why you want to be a trainer. No matter what road you go down, you have a bright future, so go down the road that makes you happy." Selene moved away, more to hide her face than discuss with her pokémon. Finally, Professor Oak approached Mikala.
"You've been listening.", he said, apropos of nothing. "I have.", she replied, pointing with her stylus at the notes. Samson nodded and said, "You're diligent Mikala, it reminds me of myself." His approach was entirely unlike Professor Oak, he was talking to her as a friend does. "Thank you.", she said firmly, trying to hold on to formality. Samson smiled. "I was like that too, too diligent if anything. I tied myself down to my research, and I nearly drowned in it. You're not there yet, and I don't want to see you go there.", he said, old voice creaking. "Are you saying I shouldn't try to be a trial captain?", she asked, feeling fragile.
Samson frowned and answered, "Not at all. I did become a professor after all of it, you should achieve your goals. You need to stop chasing who you should be without looking at who you are. Your goals do not define you in entirety." "I KNOW THAT!", she shouted louder than she had intended, "Why do you think I have Konpei? I know my goals aren't everything." He didn't crack. "Your Minior is just an acceptable exception to your gold standard. They're not a Normal-Type, no, but you're smart, you know type specialists don't train exclusively pokémon of their chosen type and that not only specialists can be trial captains.", he said, the Alolan shirt and bright smile disappearing behind the years of experience.
He continued, "What's more indicative of a trial captain, a type specialist, or someone who takes care of pokémon in need of care? The answer is obvious. You know it, I know it, but you cling to that choice as proof that you've learned your lesson. I did the same thing, once. Remember my story about trying to catch one of every regional form of pokémon? When I decided to not pursue that, it became my example that I wasn't destroying myself, but I still was. I paid hundreds of thousands of pokédollars to study trainers' pokémon with regional forms and spent countless sleepless nights writing papers. I lost friends over it, and the research was unpublishable. Trial Captain Mikala will go down in the history books, if you'd only let yourself be Mikala."
Mikala's hand stopped writing. She looked up at Samson Oak. "I don't, um, I... That might take a while.", her mouth fumbled out. He smiled, and it was the old man's smile, not the professor's. "I know.", he said, "Don't try too hard to do that either, it causes the same problem. For now, you probably want to take notes on what I'm going to say to Kau'i." Mikala nodded, and Cunic hopped up into her arms. She held the Buneary in the crook of her arm while her hand began writing notes again.
Kau'i saw Professor Oak coming and raised her hackles. Mikala could already guess what the professor was going to talk about with her. Oak had used a dismissal of her anger to calm her down before, but it didn't seem possible to deliver this advice and keep her calm. "Kau'i.", Oak said flatly. "Professor.", Kau'i responded, expectant. "You're not an idiot, are you?", He asked. Everyone turned to watch at that. Kau'i spat, "What's this about?" She was incredibly intimidating for a ten year old. "You have a choice you've been putting off. Most would call it an easy choice. 'Are you going to be a Poison-Type specialist or not?'", the professor explained, his tone hard.
"AND WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO CHOOSE, HMM?!", Kau'i spewed. Oak didn't flinch, saying firmly, "I don't want either. I want you to make the choice so you'll stop doing things like this." "REALLY!? YOU DON'T WANT EITHER?!", she sputtered, indignant. "BULLSHIT!", she accused. "You're at an impasse.", he stated, acting like he didn't mind her attitude, "You have three Poison-Types, no matter which way you go from here that stays true. Are you going to pursue greatness in another aspect of training than specialization or are you going to dedicate yourself to the Poison-Type? Both paths open doors and close others, but those doors will never open if you don't choose."
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Kau'i walked away from the field, grumbling something. She'd already decided to be angry, and the professor wasn't going to change that. Most of what Mikala had written down were notes on Professor Oak's approach to broaching a difficult subject he knew would cause conflict. The way he made Kau'i look unreasonable, likely even to herself, and kept himself level throughout. Mikala was going to end up in that position as a trial captain one day. She recognized the presumption and overcommitment in that thought right as the professor looked at her. He gave her a smile and eyed her past his forehead with his head tilted down. He knew she'd just slipped, somehow. He hadn't been lying when he said he had been in her shoes.
Mikala tapped back to her notes from before Professor Oak started giving all the students their big pieces of advice. Strength for Cunic, speed for Grus, positioning for Konpei. Mikala faced her team and dictated her regimen, "Cunic will be turning Endure into Work Up, Grus will be learning Agility, and Konpei will be using Rollout for as long as possible without hitting something. Strength, speed, positioning. Go!" She thanked herself that her notes were as extensive as they were, then sat back to ruminate on Samson's advice to her.
Ilima took notes in a boundless canvas that could be zoomed in and out infinitely, and she wished she did too. Her brain was too cluttered for that to ever work, so she went page by page. The page of notes on Samson's advice was full to bursting, and she had to bookmark it and hop between it and a fresh page to get her thoughts in order. She corrected Konpei on his form and gave Grus her phone to better understand Agility, and when she looked down again she had written on top of other notes. She needed a third page for her thoughts.
"Who Am I?", one page read at the header in big block letters. The header took up too much space for such a weighty topic. "Student? Teacher? Trial Captain. What else?", was spilling down one side of the page. "Why Trail Captain?", and its related musings took up the bottom third of the page where the overlap had occurred. "Who is anyone? What they do? What they remember? What they think? Soul?", was just another line of thought that got her nowhere. The third page was more productive, less existentially terrifying, but not by much. "What do I want?", the third page's much more reasonably sized header asked.
She stalled. Staring back up at her pokémon, she scrolled through to the page her most recent training notes were on that she was keeping quarantined from her disturbing self reflections. Cunic was doing well, diligently working herself up to a proper Work Up. Grus strafed back and forth, lacking the limberness that defined Agility. Konpei was following a well tread path as their Rollout sped up to keep from slipping out of place. The regimen. Mikala's eyes shone as she returned to the ruminating notes. "STRUCTURE", she wrote on the third page, far too big again. She noted the irony of writing that word is such an unstructured way. "My pokémon are like me. They want structure. I looked for/instilled that.", she transcribed her thoughts.
From there, her third page of pondering filled out. "Knowledge", was one answer to the page's prompt, self-explanatory in its clarity. A small section labeled, "Peers", had written under it, "Selene? Promising. Lillie? Probably not. Hau? Maybe. Kau'i?" She drew a cartoonish thumbs down after Kau'i's name. "Direction", she wrote, before immediately drawing a line from it back to the "STRUCTURE" header and squiggled in long curly script along the line, "stupid." Kau'i chose then to rejoin the class.
She'd done ruminating of her own, judging by the expression she wore, and like Mikala, she wasn't done. Both of the girls threw themselves back into training their pokémon, and the day passed in a blur of background thought. Professor Oak gave more advice on team management, most of which was directed away from Mikala. lunch came and went. Mikala shifted around her training regimen several times to match her teammates' progress. At some point in the day, the thumbs down next to Kau'i's name had been flipped upside down. Finally, dinner marked the end of their classes and the coming night.
Mikala dreamed of failing to become a trial captain, and for once, that dream wasn't bad.
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I didn't sleep Wednesday night. I'd heard the "you should be a Poison-Type specialist" talk a thousand times before, I only heard the end of it when I stopped living around Poison-Type specialists fulltime and left Team Skull, and that came with a Poison-Type pokémon as a going away present. Still, something about Professor Oak's version of the talk hit me where none of the others had. I had rejected the idea in the moment, but he seemed genuine about not seeing it as a foregone conclusion. To him, someone who'd seen hundreds of students come and go in his tenure, it was just a conclusion that needed concluding.
I was able to stay in denial through the day, but during dinner I just couldn't keep it up. I spent the evening even more angry instead of confronting it. When my head hit the pillow, I was so restless I began rustling through my notes. I spent hours there, light on with Toma at my side as us two Insomniacs poured over possible directions I could take my career as a trainer. There were any number of specialized jobs in industry, production, research, development, or testing, and then there was everything else; Move tutor, breeder, contest challenger, scientist, professor, employee at the Aether Foundation, field employee for the League, ace trainer, ranger, trial captain, kahuna, facility head, gym leader, elite four member, champion.
Eventually I had to move to the library to use the computers, since my phone was loading pages too slowly. The most promising were an industry or production job, where Toma and Waiola could excel, or a job as a ranger or ace trainer, where Kawami's ability to scout was invaluable. The more typical jobs were more achievable, in fact I could've probably gotten those jobs right away if I was older, but I was drawn to the other two, which had higher pay and incredible positions to climb to up the totem pole. I also wanted to continue battling, and you don't battle much when helping pump out spider silk pants.
The more I searched, the more the unbiased sources tended to agree. A team of Crobat, Ariados, and Salandit was best fit for a Poison-Type specialist with a focus on battling. That was stirring up a mix of unhealthy feelings. It wasn't even that I wanted to be a generalist, I just didn't want to choose. When I first picked up that poké ball, it was opportunity, grease-coated possibility in the palm of my hand. Then I caught Kawami, and it was great, but all the possibilities for that poké ball collapsed at the same time. My decisions as a trainer still laid ahead of me, but Kawami was going to be part of that life no matter what.
Then my decisions as a trainer collapsed as I ran away from Poni Island. I needed a place I wouldn't be tied down, and Team Skull was that place. Then there was Eva getting me to catch Toma, the shift in the Team, the years of providing for grunts who would go hungry without me and the other nostrils, the plan. By the end of it, I'd been used more than I'd been provided for. Throughout it all, every decision, I had very few regrets. The plan, sure, that was a disaster. Terrorism, if you wanted to be hyperbolic. But stealing for some displaced teens? Running away? Hell, all the way back, omitting the truth from a police officer? I wouldn't change any of it.
I had worked through the bargaining and most of the depression by the time the librarian arrived and kicked me out to start his day. I woke Kawami and Waiola, and was still in a funk as we ate breakfast. The eggs seemed rancid to my pallet, even though I knew they were fine. I went in the staff room and poured myself a cup of coffee, and no one bothered to chastise me for it. Theft, confidence, intimidation. The routine of it brought back some of my energy.
Professor Oak followed me out of the staff room and to the boot camp table. "Well trainers," he said cheerily as the coffee mug obscured my vision, "it's the middle of our week of lessons. To help you not fall out of step with your usual routines, and to let you adjust those routines with what you've learned so far, today will be self-study. I'll be coming by to check in with each of you, but you'll decide what to do and where. All we require is that you stay safe and be back by dinner. I'll be open to questions and discussions all day, so if you need me, just call me."
It was a rare occurrence, but all five of us young trainers were united in our despondence at the announcement. Maybe me and Mikala would've been okay on any other day, but yesterday had left us with unfinished business. Lillie never seemed to know what to do with herself, and Hau had gotten into a groove just going along with what the professor said. Selene was still a closed book to me, but I didn't need to know the reason why to tell that she wasn't looking forward to self-study. Oak waved a too-cheerful goodbye, and the table was left to eat in silence. Even the pokémon stayed mostly quiet.
When I finished eating, I didn't move from the table. Hau followed suit, and so did Selene and Mikala. We all just sat there, only yawns and the occasional peak in Lillie's chewing filling the air. Lillie finally left with a plate of leftovers, her assistant behind her, and that was our wake up call to start moving. Mikala went off to the library, Selene back to the dorms, and Hau went straight through the front door into Hau'oli proper. I had had enough of the library that night, so I ducked out of the back door and into the jungle beyond the school grounds.
I just walked into the brush, brain still curdling with the acidic feelings eating away at it. I'd been walking pretty much everywhere for years now, and something about it diluted my unease. I only had my shoulder bag on me, having left the backpack in my room. I let myself fall into the rhythm of pushing through ferns and bushes, stepping over gnarled roots, and turning where Kawami and Toma told me to. The moist air enveloped me and Waiola warmed the back of my neck while she perched. The area around the school was managed as an area for young trainers to encounter wild pokémon, but we were already well past those boundaries and into the off-route zone.
Slowly, and with a conscious effort to think about it, I clarified my thoughts about what Professor Oak had said and everything I'd looked up. I would need to make the decision, and my preferred option was already obvious. 'That's that, isn't it? I prefer being a Poison-Type specialist to being a generalist, and I need to choose a side. Since I already have three Poison-Types, wanting to be a specialist and being a specialist are essentially the same thing. So what changes? Nothing?', I thought, then slowed to bat a branch away from my face.
'No, I know I'm a specialist for good now. I need to plan around that. Kawami and Toma are important pivots in battle on a Poison-Type team, for one, so we'll have to train around that. I'm setting myself up for a Physic-Type weakness across the board, I was already working on that with Lillie but it's more important now. Oak was right, I did need to figure this out. Ugh, I hate that he was right.'
The further derailment of my train of thought was stopped by Kawami screeching for help nearby. I ran through a sheet of ivy to see Toma blocking a Vivillon's Psybeam with his Infestation puppets before it could hit Kawami. "Everyone, fight! Dragon Rage!", I ordered, pointing at a fourth Vivillon joining the two harassing my team. One Vivillon was already collapsed on the ground, the cut of a Wing Attack across its thorax, and the third and fourth each sent Psybeams at Kawami before Waiola could attack.
The salamander sprung from my shoulders and the flames of Dragon Rage flew across the clearing, invading number four's body and leaving it haggard. Number two dropped a moment later from another of Kawami's Wing Attacks, but took Kawami down with it. My eyes burned from the lingering rays of dark blue and bright yellow light as I returned her to her poké ball. Number three flitted up to the canopy to hit Toma, leaving a line across his carapace.
The fourth Vivillon tried to take out Waiola, but Toma made an Infestation to substitute for Waiola. Waiola returned the favor, sending her Dragon Rage through a branch to hit the third Vivillon up in the trees. A Psybeam shot down from the branches, again aimed at Waiola, and Toma swung the Infestation around to take that attack as well, destroying the wriggling swarm of constructs. The Vivillon at ground level and Waiola each sent their attacks upwards, putting Toma on the brink of passing out and taking the other Vivillon out of the fight.
The Vivillon next to Waiola, now alone, realized the position it was in and tried to take out Waiola again, but Toma spat out a new Substitute as he dropped from the tree, blocking the glimmering Psybeam. The silvery blue of Waiola's Dragon Rage raced forward, and Toma politely moved his Infestation out of the way for the Vivillon to be burned by the attack. The last Vivillon fainted, and I wiped the sweat from my face. Most was just from the muggy environment.
I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye, tensed, then relaxed when I saw what it was. A Grimer was eating the ruins of the battle, the burnt branches and clumps of broken web constructs, not worrying about us at all. I focused on my team. I sprayed Toma down with a super potion and brought out Kawami for a moment to give her the same treatment, then put her away again. Waiola and I helped Toma wrap the Vivillon up so they couldn't attack us if they woke up, with a clever slipknot to let them free when we left so they weren't doomed.
The weirdness of the encounter was setting in as we began walking again, this time back towards the school. Vivillon weren't even supposed to be in Alola, and the region's conservationists were so ravenous that there were barely any unrecorded species, even in the off-route areas, and these were of a bright blue and orange sunrise pattern I'd never seen before to boot. I wondered if it was another round of introduction efforts by the Aether Foundation, but I had no way of finding out.
I scrunched up my nose, checked that thought, and found that I was wrong. I did have a way of finding out, one of my peers in boot camp was the Junior Branch Manager for the Aether Foundation. Getting to the acceptance step about being a Poison-Type specialist had not unchurned my buttery smooth brain. 'Riiight, Poison-Type specialist.', I thought, getting back to the plans I needed to make and change with my change in identity, or at least trying to. The Grimer was following us.
That annoyed me more than it should've. "Shoo! Get outta here, go!", I urged the pile of sludge. It was completely unbothered, yellow goop dribbling off of its lip. I continued following Toma's silk trail back to civilization, and the Grimer followed too. It reminded me of having to drag the Ultra Recon Squad around by the tail, expectant Deerling-eyed stares and all. "Are you going to keep following me?", I asked it. The gummy substance shifted around to create a shelf below its face, then the shelf lifted at the far ends. A shrug. I kept walking, but I couldn't focus.
Professor Oak was waiting for me at the edge of the jungle. I wanted to blame my frustration on whatever Psychic-Type he used to find me, but I knew that was wrong. "You're being followed.", Oak observed, skipping formalities. He caught on quick. "Yeah," I said sarcastically, "even on self study days the professor just won't leave me alone." He chuckled, then asked, "Is the Grimer yours?" "Nope, he just started following me. Do you know where Lillie is?", I said, avoiding the conversation as much as I could while in the middle of it. "The track field. Why?", the professor asked. "Some pokémon I encountered off-route, figured the Aether Foundation would know about it.", I told him, already walking off.
Professor Oak fell in lockstep with the puddle of toxic ooze, following behind me. My eyebrow twitched, but I kept going. Across the campus from where I went for my walk, Lillie was running around an oval of rubber and polyurethane grit, hood up and bobbing like one of those tube men used for advertising. I waited at the end of the track, where her assistant and some of her pokémon were standing.
I was so distracted by Toma making a little ribbon for when she crossed the line that I missed the Grimer thoughtlessly continuing onto the running track. Lillie was looking up to keep the hood out of her face, huffing like a paint addict, and barely noticed the green slime before she ran her legs through him. Instead, she jumped over him, losing her balance in the air and landing awkwardly on her ankle, which caused her to fall on her side. She let out an involuntary "Egh!" as she rolled. Faba ran over to her, and I went to the Grimer.
"Pay attention!", we both chastised in unison. "You could've been seriously hurt, that would've put us back months!", Faba told Lillie harshly. "Humans will get hurt touching you, don't get in their way. Hurting them gets you in trouble. Do the other Grimers not tell you stuff like this?", I ranted at the wild pokémon. Lillie looked sufficiently cowed, but the Grimer just shrugged again.
"Why are you here, Kau'i?", Faba asked me. It felt weird, off tempo, but it was what I wanted to get around to, so I didn't question it. "I saw some Vivillon off-route, so I wanted to ask Lillie if they were introduced by the Aether Foundation or migrated or something.", I explained. Professor Oak spoke up, "Oh, Vivillon! What colors were their wings?" "Blue, Orange, and Yellow," I said, "like a sunrise.", I finished, with Oak matching my words. "Fascinating.", he decided.
Faba cleared his throat and said, "Vivillon are a species the Aether Foundation is looking to introduce to the region, but they're in an early phase of the process. There should only be four fully evolved individuals in the region right now." The whole time, Lillie was silent. I nodded along to Faba's answer, but my focus drifted to her. "She's recovering, don't worry.", Faba said, like I was expecting an answer. I kind of was, but I'd wanted it from Lillie. I didn't fuckin' like this guy, which was a shame cause I really didn't mind Lillie, and I mind most people.
"I should go.", I sputtered, and left Professor Oak with the two while I ran elsewhere. The Dark-Type gurgled along behind me. I found a nice tree and laid down in its shade. Between staying up all night, going through an identity crisis, walking through the jungle, and dealing with Lillie's creepy assistant, I was exhausted and feeling it. I curled up in a nook in the tree roots, and the Grimer came up to look at my face.
"Are you really gonna keep following me around forever and ever?", I grouched to my hanger-on, the tiredness hitting me all at once and making me sound drunk. He nodded determinedly. I pulled one of the berry pouches from my shoulder bag and dumped it on the ground. I spoke groggily, voice fading out as my coordination disappeared, eyelids already heavy regardless of the sun bearing down, "Have at 'em dude. Toma, webs up, I'm takin' a nap..." I was already asleep when my head hit the trunk.