Poochyena didn’t make it back to the town. Not on foot, anyway.
The little guy tried, certainly, and what a trooper he was- he made it more than halfway before his legs finally started giving out, and he stumbled to a halt. Standing above him while he panted, ears flat against his head and forelegs shaking, I was reminded how young he must be. And, despite all that, he fought his way through more ghosts than I could count.
“Hey.” He looked up at me curiously, then closed his eyes as I placed my hand between his ears and rubbed. “You don’t have to walk the whole way. I know how strong you are, you don’t have to prove anything.”
He gave me a… look. Surprise, and sadness, and… shame. He looked away, whining so softly I could barely hear it.
“None of that, now. You did good last night, I… I wouldn’t be here, if it wasn’t for you.”
He hunched a little, and I felt at a loss. I had no idea why he was reacting like this, and it worried me, stirred that bit of me that felt helpless when my friends vented about their situations. I didn’t really know what I could do, what the pup needed help with. I clenched my hand, then reached down, wrapping my arms around the fur ball and lifting him onto my shoulder. He struggled slightly and huffed without noise, indignant at the humiliation of being picked up and carried, but he didn’t protest in any major way.
“It’s the least I can do,” I muttered to him softly. “Not like I was much help last night.”
He gave me another indignant look, then relented and settled in, putting his back paws in my hood and letting it support him, while his front paws went on my left shoulder. With him hunched against my shoulder like that, and most of his weight on my hood, I didn’t have to actively hold him to my shoulder, and it spread his weight over my back. I smiled, scratching under his chin, and kept walking.
The forest was still remarkably quiet, which made sense after the previous night. I doubted that many of the local Pokemon would have stuck around during a ghost siege, your average Poke would be far too smart for that. I couldn’t guess how long they’d stay away, though, given that I was mostly working off of half-remembered things about actual animals. Pokemon were, pardon my pun, a different beast entirely.
Still, that didn’t stop the Poochyena on my shoulder from scanning the edges of the forest to either side of the road without cease, ears twitching, standing guard for anything that might look like a threat. I doubted that ghosts would attack in the daytime, if any had dared to stick around after the Rangers had moved in, but I wouldn’t put it past them to have addled a Spearow or something to attack anyone it saw on the road.
Despite my thoughts, the only things that we ran into on the road were Rangers, who were patrolling the road to ensure that the ghosts really had moved on, and trainers leaving Vinewood, either for the next stage of their journey or just to get out of dodge. I really couldn’t blame them, though I found it at least a little aggravating when, twice, trainers felt me out for a battle. The first had been young, all defiant glares and looking to prove something, and I’d turned him away easily enough with the fact that Poochyena wasn’t in any condition to fight while the ‘yena had given him a flat, tired stare from my shoulder.
The second wasn’t proving so easily to dissuade.
“Just one!”
“No. Look, it was a long night, and-”
That was the wrong thing to say. “Yes, exactly, I want to see how you did it!”
I scowled at the trainer. He wasn’t dressed like any kind of trainer that I recognized, but, then again, I wasn’t precisely sure where I was. For all I knew, this was a deep part of Hoenn, maybe some wild frontier of Unova. The point being that I barely remembered what the trainers from Emerald looked, let alone most other games, so this guy could be any of them- hell, or none of them, I had no idea if trainers actually themed themselves around specific outfits or not.
I stopped in the middle of the road, fixing him with a glare that at least made him take a step back, though that might have been as much Poochyena matching the look from my shoulder as it was my own expression. Supposed that was evidence in favour of Poochyena having Intimidate, or whatever- however abilities worked. I felt a headache coming on that wasn’t totally related to the idiot kid who was bothering me.
“Look, kid. I’m exhausted. Poochyena’s exhausted. We had an extremely long night, which was both terrifying and hugely stressful, and neither of us are recovered from it. Now, if you could kindly… leave, both of us just want to get back to town and have a good rest.”
Thankfully, either Poochyena’s hinging-on-violence glare or the edge in my voice that only came out when I was really pushed seemed to do it, because he took a few steps back, muttered an apology, then shuffled down the road towards Vinewood. I waited, watching him move away from us until he was around the bend, then sighed. In the corner of my vision, Poochyena gave me a look of mutual suffering, and I reached up to stroke one of his ears.
“If this is what the world of Pokemon is going to be like the whole time, I might reconsider the whole training thing.” Poochyena snorted in derision, and the edge of my mouth twitched. “Yeah, no, I don’t believe myself, either.”
----------------------------------------
Directly opposed to its abandoned and quiet state last night, Vinewood town was a hive of activity. Tents had been erected around the Center, where a number of uniformed people were rushing around with a variety of Pokemon; Rangers, based on how the uniforms matched the ones from last night. A number of people hung around the Center in varying states, ranging from normal people with what I guessed were domestic Pokemon, to a bare handful with Pokeballs on bandoliers, belts, or clipped to the front of their jackets. The former tended to jump if a shadow moved unexpectedly, while the latter simply eyed their surroundings warily.
One of the uniformed figures looked in my direction and we made eye contact- guitar guy, I realized, accompanied by a female ranger with a Furret practically wrapped around her ankles. He turned back to her and said something, which made her nod to him in response, her Furret giving a chirp and climbing her like a rock wall, draping itself over her shoulders like a scarf as she walked off. Guitar guy, in the meantime, waved to me as he jogged over.
“Our hero of the hour!” I grimaced and fidgeted, and winced. “Ah, not that… you did a really good thing here, is what I meant. Lotta these people would be a lot worse off, if you hadn’t convinced that Poochyena to follow you.”
I shifted. Didn’t feel particularly good. “I didn’t do much beyond that, really.”
Though, I thought, Poochyena didn’t seem much more receptive, given the slight grimace that crossed his muzzle. The Ranger gave us a look that I couldn’t interpret, then shook his head.
“That- well, anyway, that’s not why I wanted to talk with you. I wanted to track you down before you went anywhere.”
“... Why?”
“First- here, hold out your Pokenav.”
I blinked for a moment, then remembered my converted phone. Feeling slightly silly, I went to my pocket and drew it out, holding it in front of me. The Ranger unclipped a similar device from his belt and held it out, then nodded when they both beeped, putting his away again. I raised the ‘nav up, where the words ‘Pokenav: Ranger Kevan, registered!’
“There. I wouldn’t want to lose track of you, not after an event like that. Second, I managed to make some of the calls I was talking about.” I felt nervousness bubbling up in my chest; calls to, what, the League? How did the government work in Pokemon? “I gave them a description, asked after any registered Dark trainers on the international missing person’s list. I’m… sorry to say that you weren’t on it. If that changes, I’ll call you.”
“Oh.” Well, yes, that would be because I was an outside context problem. It would be far more surprising if he had.
“Still. It’s pretty clear that you were, indeed, a trainer, though whether you were a Dark specialist is… conjecture, at best. You handled everything admirably, and I cleared you for at least a temporary League affiliate’s license.”
“Affiliate’s…?” for that one, I didn’t have to fake my confusion.
“Ah. It’s a trainer’s license, just with some extra privileges and permissions. Typically. If you’re willing, there’s somebody that can help you- Rowan, in Sandgem. Problem is, Sandgem’s on the other side of the mountains, and there’s not an easy way through, unless you want to go all the way around-”
“I’m… sorry, but… what region are we in?”
He looked at me, startled. “... Sinnoh. You’re even worse than I thought.”
Sinnoh? Hold on. Which Pokemon was that? Maybe… where did gold and silver happen? No, wait, Sinnoh’s legendaries were Palkia and Dialga, so Diamond and Pearl. I’d played a bit of Shining Diamond, but not that much, it wasn’t like X or Emerald where I’d sunk multiple playthroughs in. I remembered the underground, maybe Rowan, but not much else.
Well, even if he didn’t know my particular situation… I thought of the shadow, the thing that had swallowed me and left me here, and I felt prickles down my spine. Whatever had happened to me, however I’d found myself here, a Pokemon Professor might be one of the only ones that could help. If anybody could help. It was one thing if it was Ultra Wormholes, but this…
The Ranger, Kevan, hesitated, then rallied and tried to get his momentum back.
“So, I don’t have the manpower to escort you, things have been really crazy, there have been reports of a legendary brawl in a town and nobody likes the fact that this attack happened so soon after… something like that. I don’t have enough Rangers to see you over the natural routes from Hearthome to Oreburgh, but routes two-oh-eight and oh-seven are safe enough right now. You should be let through with an affiliate’s license, even a temporary one, and you shouldn’t have difficulty as long as you have a Pokemon or two with you. You’re capable enough, from what I saw, that you should be alright.”
“Cross the mountains? On my own?” I was decidedly dubious about that plan. Even Poochyena, who had been listening silently, looked decidedly dubious about it.
“There are Ranger patrols, occasionally, and the affiliation comes with a small stipend, enough for food and some supplies…” he frowned unhappily, clenching his fingers around a Pokeball. “Look, I just… I’m doing this as a thank you, for what you did last night. The people here that didn’t come out so well last night, we’ll only be able to take them as far as Hearthome, where they’ll be for the next few months waiting while the League settles the Pokemon causing havoc across the entire region in response to the big guys getting into a punching match. When the League actually starts processing them, it’ll be anywhere from four to six months out.”
My face fell. Four to six…? For League help? That long, and I… wait. Realization dawned, and Kevan, seeing my expression, nodded.
“Travel time on foot to Sandgem is a couple months, at most. Rowan’s resources won’t be so tied down as a League’s, and he might even have people practically on hand with expertise that could help you. And, hey, if you want to turn your League affiliation into something more permanent after he helps you, some time under Rowan…” he shrugged.
I stood there. This… an affiliation. Something more than your average trainer, maybe a Dex, if I was working under a professor. An opportunity for something that your average trainer wouldn’t see, maybe ever. That- I froze. Did this actually make me a protagonist?
No. I forced myself to relax. The idea of being a protagonist was egocentric, assuming the world revolved around me. In the anime or the games, this wouldn’t be a wrong assumption to have, because the world and its events actually do revolve around the player, as things don’t progress until they move on and they’re always the center of important events.
I reached up, splaying my fingers in Poochyena’s fur, who shifted at my touch. He was warm, his fur rather like a husky’s, though thinner. And, more than anything, he was real, a creature with a heart that beat and lungs that breathed. This- this wasn’t a game, which meant that even if this was a fortunate line of events, it was… logical. Whatever had happened to me, this was a result of a combination of events and choices.
I relaxed. I felt a little better about it. This, more than anything else, was real. Whatever had happened, I was here, and…
“I think… I think that sounds good.”
Kevan brightened. “Well, if it sounds good to you, head on in and talk to Alice- give her your name, and she’ll print a League affiliate ID for you. The natural routes are guarded to prevent many normal trainers and civilians from ending up somewhere that might be hazardous to them. You have some amount of experience, and, like I said, oh-eight and oh-seven aren’t particularly dangerous, so you should be fine as long as you stick close to the route. You should be fine.” He reached out and grabbed my shoulder, trying to make eye contact with me. Uncomfortably, my gaze wandered over the bridge of his nose to his eyebrow. “But, listen, I’m going out on a little bit of a limb for you. Don’t do anything reckless. Understand? For your sake and for mine.”
I nodded, and he let me go.
“Good luck, huh? Call me when you get to Hearthome, and I’ll see if there are any Ranger patrols you can link up with.”
“I- '' I swallowed my nervousness, at the prospect of that much traveling, and my excitement, at… well, everything. “I understand. And thank you, seriously, this is… it’s a lot. I’ll do my best.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I’m sure you will.” With that, he walked off towards one of the tents with what looked like a pink Pokeball with beige patterning- ah, wait, a Heal ball, I realized- stamped on the olive canvas of it.”Maer! I want Thomas and his three to make a round south, make sure we don’t have any stragglers!”
I let a breath out through my nose, Poochyena’s eyes tracking Kevan before sweeping over the mixed crowd of people and Pokemon. I slid my hands into the pockets to guard against the morning chill, and actually looked around for what felt like the first time.
With the lukewarm sunshine burning off the remainder of the fog, leaving just a thin covering that highlighted bars of sunlight shining over and between the buildings. Without the thick screen that hid them, I could see where the town had gotten its name: thick layers of vines crawled up the sides of the structures, climbing the brick walls with ease and even reaching up onto the roofs. Lush grasses waved between them, and the brick pathways that linked the buildings together, which had little bits of greenery reaching up through the cracks between the baked blocks of clay.
It was almost idyllic, like a painting splayed out all around me. I could almost believe that I’d gone back in time to some village before the advent of electricity, a rural ideal, were it not for the little elements of technology that poked out from between nature and timeless buildings. Antennas poked up from the roofs of some of the houses, power meters on side walls, solar panels on roofs. And, of course, the Center in the middle of town, with its tents and lit-up signage. A place that I didn’t think I’d mind living in, given a good Internet connection.
I stilled at that thought. Was my plan to stay here? I’d been intoxicated, in all that happened to me last night, by the idea of traveling this world, of seeing it.
I shook my head. Stay or go, return or don’t, it didn’t matter. It… it didn’t matter what I intended, not without a way back, not without even knowing what had brought me here. I squeezed my hands into fists, then let them go, spreading my fingers. Right now, thinking about it was a waste of time and of energy. I tried to put it aside, as best I could, and straightened my back, walking forwards and into the center.
As opposed to the slight chill of the still slightly foggy morning, the interior of the Pokemon Center greeted me with a puff of air that was a comfortable sort of warm. Stepping inside, I found the interior quite a bit less crowded than it had been last night.
Instead of disparate groups of people huddled in little bunches against the unknown, there were only a few occupying the tables and couches inside. In the corner, a kid with a couple of bug types had his chin resting on his arms, a caterpie on his head, and a nincada carefully watching everyone who passed by. An older teen with a Raichu was speaking to Alice over the front counter, the electric mouse packing back and forth, eyes taking in every bit of movement. As I walked in, its eyes flicked to me, then immediately dismissed me as a threat, going back to searching the inside of the Center. Against one of the walls, staring out of the window and directly into one of the tents set up just outside, a girl in her late twenties or early thirties sat with a pidgey on her head, while a skarmory scraped its feathers together slowly, producing soft metallic noises as it did.
I went to slide my fingers under Poochyena, but he turned his head aside, climbing up onto my shoulder properly and leaping to the ground with ease. Well, ease might have been a slight exaggeration, as the little ‘yena stumbled as he hit the ground, but he still managed to stand tall once he’d recovered.
“Alright, have it your way.”
He flicked his nose towards the counter, reminding me what we were here for. As unconcerned as he was, as I walked by him, I could see him looking up at me with an expression I couldn’t read. I hesitated, wondering if I should try to… I don’t know. Talk to him? Was that my responsibility? I wavered. I owed him a lot, but the little ‘yena wasn’t my Pokemon, just one that I’d convinced to come with me. Being perfectly honest, I wasn’t even sure what the rules were for such a situation. Did he have a trainer? Had they just gotten stuck outside? Then why hadn’t…?
Before I could make up my mind, the trainer at the counter nodded to Alice and walked away, the Raichu giving me one last glance before following on its trainer’s heels. I let out a hissed breath through my teeth, then stepped up to the counter, trying my best to give her a smile. She didn’t seem to notice my worry, making an expression of pleased surprise as she recognized me.
“Ahhh, it’s…” she paused, blinking and frowning. “You know, I never even thought to get your name.”
“It’s fine. Tensions were really high, and it was a crisis, so not really any time to share something like that.” I offered my hand. “Cam.”
She took it with a smile and shook it, and I noted that her grip was tight. Maybe from wrangling uncooperative Pokemon?
“Yeah, likewise. I’d introduce myself, but I think my reputation precedes me.”
I glanced at the name tag affixed to the front of her medical coat and huffed through my nose.
“I wonder what could’ve given you that impression.” I shook my head. “Well, anyway… Kevan told me to come in here and talk to you about… a League affiliation, I think?”
She leaned back from the counter, nodding, then crouching and rummaging through some drawers behind the counter.
“Yeah, one of those. I have to say, we don’t give out many of those here. League-scouted trainers from Vinewood are next to nonexistent, and the handful of kids Vinewood’s produced that have affiliate level talent or skill typically make a name out there first. I think there have only been one or two that started out with an affiliation… where in damnation is- ah! Aha!”
She came out from under the counter, triumphant, setting two objects down. The first was what appeared to be a miniature printer, which reminded me of the debit card printers I’d seen in some banks, and an oddly boxy digital camera, both covered in dust. She fished a couple of cables from behind the PC to one side, running one from the printer to the PC, and the other from the printer to the camera.
“Not often that I get to break this stuff out. Not sure it even works, but, hey, here’s hoping!" She hit a few keys on the keyboard, then glanced at me. “Name?”
“Uh… Cammy?”
She rolled her eyes. “Full name.” I stared at her blankly, and, after a few moments, her eyes widened, then closed, as she grimaced. “Right. Right. Sorry.” She opened her eyes again, this time refusing to look at me, and started typing rapidly. “Region and town of origin… just going to put here, and here. Temporary, temporary… ah, here, probational. Age?”
“Uh, twenty… six?” I said, trying to inject a tone of uncertainty into the statement. She whistled.
“Huh. Older than you look.” I gave her a flat look, which she ignored. “I’m just gonna say not applicable for the birthday. Expiration six months from now, should give you plenty of time.” She clapped. “Alright, last part, the picture. Smile, okay?”
She picked up the digital camera- which was right when Poochyena leapt up to the counter, looking to see what was going on, and she pressed the button in surprise, causing the flash to go off in his face. Poochyena jerked back, blinking heavily, and we both froze, looking at the camera. Then, both our gazes traced the cable from the camera to the printer.
With a cough and the whirring of gears, the card printer spat out a cloud of dust as it clanked to life for the first time in forever. After some rather concerning grinding noises, it vomited another cloud of dust- and a rectangular piece of plastic. Alice picked it up, then immediately snorted, tossing it back down onto the counter. I leaned over, dreading the worst.
There, front and center, was Poochyena. His shocked face took up most of the frame, and his pupils had contracted in the face of the sudden flash of light. In the background, you could just see me over his head and next to one of his ears, looking just as surprised as he was. All in all, it wasn’t the worst ID picture I’d ever had. Poochyena, on the other hand, seemed totally mortified, taking one glance at the photo before giving me a panicked look and beating a hasty retreat back towards the corner booth I’d first seen him in. I followed his hasty retreat with some amount of concern, then jumped when Alice let out a laugh.
“Ah, jeez, that’s- wow. Hah!”
She picked up the ID, admiring it from a moment, then digging around behind the counter again, finally producing a little hard case, which she opened. Half of the inside was taken up by a sheet of velvet, while the other half was a series of pockets, one of which she slotted the ID card into. She flipped it closed, the latch on the side clicking.
“So, what’s…” I nodded my head towards Poochyena, who was trying to act like he wasn’t watching the both of us through the corners of his eyes.
Her hands spasmed, once, and I caught a very rapid series of emotions fluttering across her expression. Finally, she folded her hands over the case, giving me a level stare.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s just-” I closed my mouth, pursing my lips, trying to decide how to phrase my question. “He’s… strong? I don’t think any wild Pokemon, let alone a domestic, would have the stamina to do what we did. He didn’t like to be separated, and you said that he’d been sitting there, for maybe a month. So, what’s… what’s his story?”
She sat there for a long moment, watching me, and glancing at him. Poochyena was now resolutely staring out the window, eyes pin-point focused on the horizon, though that did nothing to hide how his ear kept twitching in our direction.
“Dark Pokemon aren’t very popular.” I blinked at her, but she didn’t look at me, continuing in the same level tone of voice. “They can be violent, hard to control. People are nervous around them, though there are a few trainers that try their hand at having one or more on their teams. Poochyena, however… Well, they’re doubly cursed. First because of their Typing, which makes them difficult to deal with. Second… because they’re, eh… common. Poochyena are all over the place in many different regions, so they’re not sought after, and their evolution even less so, because a mightyena is even more difficult to handle.” She tightened her hands into fists, her gaze flickering down to the counter in front of her, and I stilled at the flicker of anger in her voice. “Third is that they’re a favourite choice of gangs and teams. Poochyena can be intimidating enough to cow most civilians, and are easy enough for their grunts to put them in their place and keep them there.”
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Something cold, something heavy, gathered at the bottom of my stomach. “So, he…?”
She shook her head. “Not- well, I don’t know. All I know is, I was going through the lost and found, and… there was his Pokeball. It’s not unheard of for a trainer to abandon a particularly troublesome or disliked Pokemon at a Center, wouldn’t even be the first time it’s happened here, and it’s at least more sensible than just releasing them into the wild far from home. But this is the first time…” she hesitated, for a long moment. “He’s not let go. Hasn’t… forgotten his trainer. He’s been waiting for them, whoever they are. Refused to move from the window, even to eat, and just got less and less responsive…” she trailed off.
We both watched him for a long moment. The little ‘yena stood for a while, then finally lay down, clearly still tired even as he kept a vigil, staring out the corner window. I could see the unhappy expression on Alice’s face out of the corner of my eye, but finally, she broke the moment with a sigh.
“Never mind. Here.” She slid the hardcase across the counter to me.
I took it in my hands, turning it over and lifting it up, working the little catch and opening it up. The insides hadn’t changed, and there was my ID, glittering slightly in the morning light. The velvet area was for badge pins, I’d guess, and the rest of it was for miscellaneous important storage.
“Don’t lose that. It’s seven thousand for a replacement, and I doubt you’ll want to spend money you probably don’t have. The portion on the left side is for any badges you earn, while the right is for identification, tickets, anything like that. The case prevents anything within from being read and stolen.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
She shrugged, and I flipped the case closed, clicking the latch into place before tucking it into the leg pocket of my pants. With that done, she walked to the side and swung a portion of the counter up, motioning me through. Wordlessly, I followed her as she walked us into the back, then paused in the doorway in awe.
Racks of slots for Pokeballs met my vision, glowing a dim blue under the light of the LED lamps above. A few of the slots in what I guessed was the restoration machine were filled, mostly the red and white of normal Pokeballs, but I spied the white, blue, and red of a few great balls and, all the way in the back, the yellow and black of an ultra. Stuffed into the back corner, there was a cardboard box labeled L&F with what appeared to be black permanent marker, which was filled with all kinds of random junk that I couldn’t identify from here. Alice, meanwhile, simply leaned against the racks, totally unimpressed by a sight I guess she saw every single day.
“I’m going to level with you. That Poochyena? He’s trouble, and I’m not just saying that because he’s a Dark type, either. Abandoned Pokemon- not just released or traded, but abandoned- have issues. And that one? He was enamoured enough with his previous trainer to sit in a window for a month and wait for them.”
“... What are you trying to say?”
She sighed through her nose. “What I’m trying to say is that, with a League affiliation, even a temporary one, I am empowered as the closest thing to a professor in this town to give you any of the Pokemon I have on hand as a starter. I’ve mostly got starly and bibarel, but I think I’ve got a psyduck or a seaking somewhere in the back.” She affixed me with a stare. “It’ll be easier, too. Ditch the hoodie on top of taking one of them, and people will treat you better, and not like somebody that might declare their allegiance for one of the teams or attack them for their wallets or for fun at the drop of a hat.”
That gave me real pause, silenced by my own surprise, that she’d said it so bluntly. Certainly, Poochyena were… she might be right about things that she’d said, but surely that didn’t apply to everyone, didn’t apply to all Dark types. I needed- I needed to think.
“I… need a minute to make up my mind.” She shrugged, then gestured at the box.
“Take your time. While you’re thinking, go through there, take whatever gear you think’ll help you.” I gave her a questioning look, and she shrugged again. “The actual lost and found is up front, an actual nice-looking box and everything. That box is for the stuff that people don’t claim after a week, and it just piles up until I donate it to the trainer’s school in Hearthome. They’re always in need of starter or practice equipment, but I think you could use it more.”
“Thank you.” She waved it off, then turned to a touchscreen of some kind and started entering commands.
I turned to the box, kneeling down next to it and placing my hands on the rim. I had to admit, sorting through the lost and found to see what I could find and what I could make use of was somewhat nostalgic- reminded me of the days that I used to paw through my school’s lost and found for items that could be used in the creation of props for the plays. I’d always been fascinated by what I could find, the detritus of the people that had come here and gone, a hundred different little stories in a hundred different little items.
Some were interesting, in their nature and condition more than their actual usefulness. A jacket clawed down the front, the pieces of a destroyed Dex, a Pokenav with a screen cracked beyond usefulness, what appeared to be a cooking pan that had been sat on by something exceedingly heavy.
There were, however, a few things that caught my interest.
A Pokewatch, beaten up and scuffed, but perfectly functional, even turning on for a moment when I held the power button. A pair of what appeared to be clear ballistic goggles, which I slung around my neck- never knew when you needed eyepro. A proper hiking backpack with an aluminum brace and additional straps, only slightly stained with something that I hoped was berry juice of some kind. A tent, with bent poles that I carefully bent back into shape. A beaten up water bottle with a built-in filter in the top, covered in stickers advertising for Hoenn gym leaders. A blanket, needing no explanation. A thick foam mat, which I clipped underneath the backpack. And, finally, all the way at the bottom and at the back, a small red and white ball, neglected and clipped to a beaten-up leather and cloth belt with magnetic Pokeball mounts hand stitched to it and a mechanical buckle. I picked it up and pressed the button, dreading an abandoned Pokemon springing out, but it simply beeped, the ring around the button flashing red. I presumed that meant it was empty, and let out a sign of relief.
I set aside my prizes, careful to put them far away from the box that there was no mistaking them for things that had just fallen out. I checked over each of them, then bundled them together, securing the belt around my waist with its single Pokeball, scratched up as it was. The rest went on or in the backpack, which was at least just a flat black, before I slung it over my shoulder, securing the buckle that tied the two shoulder straps together over the chest, and the strap around the waist, falling just above where the belt sat. I stretched in a couple directions, then jumped in place and nodded. This would do perfectly.
Alice, though she pretended not to, watched me go through the motion with the occasional glance. Her fingers drummed against the sides of the screen, a nervous staccato that stood out against the ambient humming and soft beeping that came from the healing machine.
“I think there’s something you’re not saying.” I said, conversationally.
Alice froze in the middle of tapping something, then followed through the motion, pretending that that hadn’t stopped her in her tracks for a moment.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
I turned towards her, folding my arms and leaning against the wall just beyond the edge of the healing machine, which was adorned with a Chancey poster that talked about proper first aid procedure.
“It’s just a hunch. Maybe you believe what you said to me about Dark types, maybe it’s even true, but I think you wouldn’t be so anxious if there wasn’t something more.”
Complete conjecture. Total guesswork. I was terrible at reading body language and facial expressions, struggled with it at the best of times besides the most obvious and blatant. The fact that I was actually able to discern that she was anxious at all meant that she was awful at hiding it. Still, she gripped the sides of the screen hard enough to make it creak.
“Yeah. Maybe.” She breathed in deeply, then sighed through her nose. “Poochyena’s been through the wringer. He was obviously incredibly attached to his trainer, but whether they had a falling out or he just became inconvenient for a trainer that he felt more than they felt for him, it destroyed him. He barely ate and moved less for an entire month, and I had to actively work to keep him from just… fading away.”
She turned towards me, and I shifted in place as I was pinned in place by her piercing glare. She searched my eyes for something, but I looked down and away, unable to meet that gaze.
“If you go out there with Poochyena, you’re going to run into hardships and challenges, from fellow trainers, from the League, from everybody. And that’s not going to be your fault or his, that’s just how it is. And if you go out there and encounter all that, and you can’t handle it? If you leave Poochyena at another Center, after making him think he’d finally found someone he could trust as a trainer again? His heart’s going to break, and this time, there’s not going to be a magical mindwiped stranger that somehow pulls him out of that darkness again.”
“Pokemon rely on their trainers, I understand that-”
“You don’t.” Her teeth ground, and she shoved her hands in her coat pockets. “He’s going to rely on you completely, desperate to please, desperate to not be abandoned again. You’ll be carrying him in every way that matters, and that’s not something you can break without permanent damage that’ll be too much for that poor little Pokemon to bear. Can you say that you’ll stand every bit of pressure or challenge thrown your way? Can you say that you’ll bear those burdens, for his sake?”
I hesitated, thinking- pressure? Challenge? Because… Poochyena. A light clicked on in my head. What was the most popular Pokemon wielded by Aqua and Magma in Hoenn? What if that repeated itself across much of the world, with poochyena finding themselves in the hands of criminals, or the grunts of various teams? In a moment, I understood exactly what I was doing. If I took Poochyena in, that was as good as an announcement that I was potentially aligned with some organization. Alice chuckled darkly.
“There you go, you figured it out.” She slumped against the healing machine, regarding me tiredly, the fire gone out of her. “So, what’ll it be? Shall I get you a pidgey?”
“I…” I fiddled with the straps of my bag, then looked up at her. “Yeah, I know what I need to do.”
----------------------------------------
Poochyena was still settled at the same corner window, when I came back in. I saw his head snap to me, those red eyes tracing down to my belt, then staring at it. I could see the tears beginning to well up in his eyes, his ears shifting back against his head as he turned away. And then he looked down as something bumped against his leg.
I smiled, gently, as he stared down at the Pokeball that I’d rolled across the table to him, resting against his paw. The paint was nearly off, worn or scratched or abraded off, but it was obviously a red and white Pokeball under all that superficial damage and it still perfectly functioned. In fact, it was his Pokeball. He looked up at me, the tears forming tracks in the fur of his face as I smiled at him, leaning down a little to bring my face level to his.
“Hey, little guy. What do you think? Ready to come with me?”
His muzzle opened, closed, and then he jumped on me paws first, licking at whatever he could reach. I laughed as the rough ‘yena tongue lapped at my face and neck, stroking his fur as best I could while he absolutely covered me in attention, refusing to leave a single inch of me that he could reach dry.
“Ack! Ah! Alright, alright, I get it! Calm down!”
I grabbed his head and ruffled his fur rapidly, causing him to make a weird noise that was like a combination of a whine and a purr. I sat down next to him, and he lay on the tabletop, shuffling as close to me as he could get and giving me a look that caused my heart to seize. I smiled and stroked along his back.
“It’s alright. You and me? We’re going out there together. Yeah?”
He sniffed and nodded, still blinking tears out of his eyes. Ugh, I don’t think I could’ve refused the little ‘yena if I’d wanted to; one look at that little face, and I wouldn’t have dared turn him down. Being the source of happy tears buoyed me, but being the source of sad ones would crush me.
“So. Alice needs to register you to me, and I want to get you checked over.” I picked up his ball, holding it up to him. “Do you think you’re ready to go back in?”
He hesitated, glancing nervously between me and the ball, and I wondered how long he’d spent sitting in it in the lost and found bin before Alice had found him. He steeled himself, then pressed the button with his nose, and I watched with fascination as he instantly dissolved into red light, being pulled into the open ball- which sealed with a click. I palmed the thing, which wiggled a little in my hand on its own. Maybe it was my imagination, maybe it actually was the difference between having it empty and having it occupied, but it felt heavier and warmer in my hands than it had before.
I stood up, wrapping both hands around the ball, some part of me afraid that I’d drop it and it would shatter, despite how phenomenally durable I knew Pokeballs to be. Still, as I handed Poochyena’s Pokeball to Alice over the Center counter, I did so with the utmost care and caution, nervously making sure that she had both hands on it and couldn’t possibly drop it. She simply looked at me with amusement, tossing it in the air and catching it again, causing me to wince and clench my teeth.
“I’ve seen these things have concrete chunks and rocks land on them and been completely fine afterwards. Devon and Silph make them more than hardy enough for your average trainer on the road, believe me.”
“I know, but…”
I muttered, making a helpless gesture. Alice shook her head, then held her hand out for my ID, which I handed over. She slotted the ID into the PC, then put Poochyena’s Pokeball into a little scanner basin, hitting a few keys.
“There, registered to you.”
“So, um. How does that work with wild Pokemon?”
She shrugged. “The Pokeballs you buy can be registered to you just by tapping your ID against the button. Any Pokemon you catch would be registered to you the moment it’s inside the ball, and would be added to your active registered roster when you checked into the next Center. Though, that reminds me- hang on…”
She tossed Poochyena’s ball and grabbed it out of the air, yanking my ID from the reader and tossing it onto the counter. With that done, she walked into the back, muttering to herself about something.
I glanced down at the empty Pokeball that’d been attached to this belt. Was it that simple, then? Well, it didn’t hurt to try, I supposed. I picked up my ID from the counter, then touched it to the button on the front of the Pokeball. Immediately, the ball beeped, the little ring lighting up green, most likely indicating a successful read. It was that easy, I supposed.
I looked up when I heard movement, catching Alice coming out of the back. I slotted my ID back into the hard case and sealed it, slipping it back into my pocket, then giving her all my attention.
“Here. This isn’t a tool given to your typical trainer, even the higher class ones, but it was left here by an Ace a while back. We’re not supposed to have it, technically, but because it’s an older model, it wasn’t regarded as important enough to send anybody to retrieve it.” She set the red and blue patterned box on the counter, sliding it towards me. “However, you’re already headed Rowan-wards, and, who knows, it might help you cross Coronet.”
Almost reverently, I picked up the box, pressing the release on one side and opening it up, revealing the two screens. I recognized it instantly, of course, how could I not? A Pokedex wasn’t something you just passed over. This one looked a little like the Nintendo DS, and I vaguely remembered something about the ‘dex in each game looking somewhat like the console that particular Pokemon was made for. Diamond and Pearl were DS games, weren’t they?
It booted after a moment, showing a logo that I didn’t recognize, before flashing to a UI. The top screen showed the Pokemon highlighted on the list on the lower screen. Unlike the game ‘dex, of course, the listings were completely full of Pokemon, instead of being blank entries. Filling a ‘dex was a job for a game protagonist, not for me. I marveled at the little red box, somehow a haphazard fusion of obsolete and advanced technology, as far as my homeworld was concerned. The ability to identify any Pokemon it was waved at, with a complex sensor suite and battery life that put all the most advanced contemporaries back home to shame, all packed into what was, more or less, the body of a DS- with some additional space to either side, and an oddly shaped lid, granted. If I was being completely fair, this thing was closer to a miniature laptop than the mobile device that it resembled.
“Thank you. This… is a lot, and I-”
“Please.” She cut me off with a wave of her hand. “The only thing that your average trainer probably wouldn’t have starting out is that Pokedex, and that thing is old enough that it can barely called that.”
Whuff. The idea that the new models were this and much more made me a bit weak in the knees. Cooperation between humans and Pokemon really did work pure magic, in more ways than I could count. What’s more, I was almost entirely sure that I was just scratching the surface of the tech this world possessed, and I felt quiet excitement at the thought. I’d always had an affinity for technology, and now, I was surrounded by examples of tech that were bizarre and wacky, hailing from completely unfamiliar lines of development. It was both exhilarating and intimidating, all at once.
“Still.” I intoned. “Thank you.”
Alice shrugged awkwardly, and turned to walk into the back, probably to check Poochyena’s progress. I watched her go, then turned around and leaned against the counter, slipping my phone- ah, Pokenav, I supposed, out of my pocket.
I pressed the power button on the side, bringing up the lock screen, and sat there for a long moment examining it. Before, it’d been of Ash and Takato, leaning against a railing in a dense neon cityscape, but now it had been replaced by a piece of art depicting a trainer in a red baseball cap, standing on a rainy street lit by neon signs. I felt my stomach twist as I realized that that must be Red, legendary trainer extraordinaire, among the strongest trainers in the Pokemon world. I shook myself, setting aside that unsettling realization and swiping upwards, tracing out the pattern of my password. I wasn’t sure that I really wanted to consider the implications of such a thing.
A cursory investigation revealed that, if this had been my phone before somehow being converted, then it’d been very cleanly wiped. Even accessing the raw file explorer didn’t reveal anything other than system files, and the only thing I could actually find on the phone that didn’t appear to have been there on factory- besides the background, the single picture in the camera roll- was the contact details that Kevan had sent over.
I finally hit the power button, entirely disturbed by the entire thing, then walked to the table, setting out everything that I was carrying on me. My wallet with its chain and keychain, oddly unchanged. The power bank, whose cables were different, now that I was looking at them, the entire thing appearing more rugged and apparently having fold-up solar panels. My little waterproof toolkit, with all the exterior stickers changed into Pokemon-related ones, though the little ‘front towards enemy’ written in permanent marker remained. Did the Pokemon world even have claymore antipersonnel mines?
I shook my head, grimacing. That was something that really didn’t bear thinking about.
Much of the stuff, I moved into the pockets of my pack, including my wallet, which was essentially now useless besides the cash tucked inside it. I strapped the Pokewatch around my wrist, and once I’d checked around to make sure I hadn’t left anything out, I started toying with it and figuring out its functions.
It was a good time killer until Alice came back with Poochyena in tow, but I still felt myself wishing for a laptop, or at least my tablet. While I didn’t really feel the itch to write right now, it wouldn’t have been hard to get myself going, and writing was always a good way to kill a lot of time without really doing anything.
I paused, frowning. I was, without a single doubt, now completely and utterly unfamiliar with all forms of contemporary media, both officially published and fan-based. Was the Internet really a thing here like it was back home? Published works definitely existed, there were way too many bookshelves scattered across the world of Pokemon for there not to be, and I vaguely remembered something about pictures in Kalos and the player starring in movies in Unova. What was copyright law like, here? I hissed and drew a breath, the true worst drawback occurring to me. Every written fan work that I’d deeply enjoyed was now lost, and even the archives of downloaded works I’d carried on my person were gone completely. That was… a real heavy hit.
Still, all this kept me plenty busy until Alice came back, holding Poochyena’s ball in her hand. I stood up as she came through the door, then flailed when she tossed the Pokeball to me, panicking for a moment and then letting out a breath of relief as I managed to grab onto it firmly.
“Yeah, he was pushed hard last night, but he should be just about recovered now. A little underweight for his age and size, but that should be easy enough to fix with exercise and proper feeding.” She held her hands out to her sides. “And, that’s it. The end of the gifts I can give you. At this point, you’re comparable to a fresh League affiliate trainer, with, more or less, all the equipment and privileges that come with it.”
She offered her hand, and I stepped forwards and took it, giving it a firm shake. She squeezed my hand hard enough to be uncomfortable, then pointed at my face, giving me a steely glare.
“If I hear you ditched Poochyena, I’ll hunt you down myself, and don’t think that I’m a pushover just because I manage a Center. Understand?”
I smiled. “You’d need a herd of Tauros to drag me away from this little guy.” She sniffed.
“That better be true. Now, get out of here, I can’t stand the sight of you anymore.” She chewed her tongue for a moment. “And… good luck.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
Before she could start denying my thanks again, I turned around, clipping Poochyena to one of the magnetic slots at my belt and quickly walking out of the Center. Though, really, I wasn’t sure if my eagerness to leave was more forcing her to accept my thanks, or my eagerness to get on my way. I think… both, really.
I stopped, once I was outside the door, closing my eyes. The strengthening morning sunshine had burned away the last of the fog while I’d been waiting inside the Center, and now it was all bright and gold and green. People and Pokemon walked around me, chattering to each other, running to and fro as they organized the population of the town. I took a long moment, just to soak it all in, the entire town the polar opposite of the dangerous, dark place that I’d fought my way through last night.
I was interrupted, of course, by the ball at my side rattling in its mount. I huffed a laugh, taking it from my side and pressing the button, releasing Poochyena. He landed on the grass, shaking himself, then running up to me and rubbing himself against my leg, looking up at me with a complex clump of emotions that made me smile despite myself.
“Yeah, we should probably get going, huh?” He nodded decisively, and I pulled out my Pokenav.
The map function was, thankfully, easy enough to find. Vinewood, it turned out, was to the southwest of Solaceon town, between route 209 and Emeragrove town. The road that I’d been back and forth on several times was a part paved and part natural route connection between Emeragrove and Vinewood, though I could also go in the opposite direction, linking up with route 209. I crouched down, showing the map to Poochyena, who shuffled closer and peered at it closely.
“What do you think? That looks like a paved route from Emeragrove to Hearthome, might be faster.” Poochyena traced the route with his eyes, then looked up at me and nodded. I smiled. “Gotcha. Let’s get moving, huh?”
Poochyena jumped to his paws, tail wagging. I stood up, settling the backpack onto my shoulders better, then started walking towards the road out of Vinewood.
----------------------------------------
Without the ghosts and fog, the forest outside of Vinewood had gone from terrifying to outright welcoming. The vines that grow over every building back in the town covered the trunks of many of the trees surrounding the road, covering everything in a carpet of green that glistened with dew. With the threat gone, the Pokemon that lived in the forest had come out of hiding. Pidgey chirped and fluttered between the trees, Rattata scuttled in the foliage, and all sorts of shapes and figures flitted between the vines and the wood around me.
I smiled, tugging on the straps of my backpack. Poochyena ran back and forth, going farther forwards before coming back, or stopped for a moment to sniff suspiciously at a plant or a footprint along the edge of the road.
“Don’t tire yourself out too much, huh?” I raised my voice to the black and gray hyena, who looked at me and nodded seriously, running back to me and falling in at my side.
I hummed quietly in thought, nudging him playfully with my shin, making him huff quietly. Poochyena was a mouthful, and calling him that every single time was something of an annoyance. It was what he was, and I vaguely remembered something about Pokemon not really holding by names like humans did, but there was… more than that.
Nicknames were something that I felt were significant in the games: at least, as far as I went. Any pikachu was a pikachu, but when I named my pikachu Fulgur, they were my partner. I felt that meant something, that setting aside, declaring that this Pokemon was the one that was with you, on your team. This is my Pokemon. There are many like them, but this one is mine.
I chuckled, and Poochyena looked up at me, head cocked and ears standing up. I waved a hand dismissively.
“Sorry, just thinking.” I mulled it over for a second. “Actually… I want to ask you something. How… do you feel about a name?”
Poochyena paused for a second, blinking, then realized he was falling behind and picked up his pace to catch up. Once he was level with me again, and sure I was watching him closely, he made a peculiar shrugging motion with his shoulders and looked at me questioningly.
“It’s just… you’re not just any poochyena, y’know? You’re Poochyena.” I clamped my tongue between my front teeth and furrowed my eyebrows. I wasn’t explaining this very well. “What I mean to say is that, it might sound kinda sappy, but you’re my partner. You know? You’re not just anybody’s poochyena, or a wild Pokemon, you’re the one that chose to travel with me. That’s special to me, and I guess that I want to… commemorate that, I guess.”
Poochyena looked forwards, deep in thought and frowning even as he kept up with my strides. Like nearly everything, he appeared to take this seriously, especially because I was. And I was. A name was, I felt, a very important element of a relationship between a person and their Pokemon. It was a deeper meaning, a piece of the bond between us, whatever that truly meant. Some piece of the human understanding of the world imparted to a Pokemon, to bring the both of us closer. Plus, the Pokemon that was meant to be my partner and comrade working under the equivalent of calling a dog ‘Dog’ didn’t sit right with me, even if it was appropriate. Maybe that was just my bias showing through, but…
Poochyena, moved ahead, then pulled in front of me and came to a stop, turning towards me and sitting down in the road. I came to a stop, crouching down, and, confirming that he had my complete attention, he nodded his head once. I grinned.
“Do you have a name in mind?” He considered, then shook his head. Fair enough. “Maybe you want me to suggest one?” A nod. “Okay, we’re getting somewhere. Now, let me think…”
I crossed my legs as I shifted into a more comfortable sitting position, settling my elbows on my legs as I considered the problem before me. Most of the names that I could think of off-hand were names of very little relevance, your average names. But if I was going to give my partner a name, it was going to be something serious, a marker of our partnership and Poochyena’s abilities as a capable battler.
The little hyena had spunk, power, durability, and perseverance in spades. He stood up again and again against all odds, had triumphed in the face of more than one ghost that just about matched him in raw power, coming out more as a result of his own sheer determination than type advantage. Dark TE seemed to play merry havoc with ghost type moves, but I suspected that wouldn’t have meant anything in the end, if Poochyena hadn’t been who he was.
“Let me think.” Most of the names I could think of were just pop culture ones. Not necessarily a bad thing, but one that felt somewhat incorrect here. “Arthur?” Poochyena’s head shook. “Edward?” Another shake.
It went back and forth like this for a time, as I suggested name after name, and Poochyena turned them down with differing levels of consideration. Some of them I explained my reasoning behind them and what I thought they meant, but that didn’t seem to change his mind. Sometimes he’d listen to the entire explanation before refusing the name, sometimes he’d cut me off halfway through, but he didn’t accept any of them.
“Okay, okay, there’s also…” I hummed as I thought about it, turning it over in my head, trying to come up with another option… and then pausing.
Whenever I played a Pokemon game, there were a handful of names that almost always made an appearance. At this point, some of them were just short of tradition for me, passing the names down between totally different Pokemon, from team to team and game to game. And there was one…
“What do you think about… Drake?” The name was one that I typically gave to the first male Pokemon that I caught with the intention of them being a permanent member of my team. “It’s the name of a man that lived in the dark for years, who survived every challenge that was put in front of him. Somebody who fought no matter the odds, survived no matter what was against him, a survivor. Determined and noble, and, well, quiet, much like you.”
Poochyena was silent for several seconds, a minute, several minutes. A look of profound focus set itself in stone on his face, consideration written into every line and bit of fur as his ears twitched back and forth. Five entire minutes passed before he finally broke his focus, looking me in the eyes… and giving me a nod. I grinned so wide it hurt, gently taking one of his paws and shaking it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Drake.”