Of Kanto’s four coastal cities – five, if you counted an island as being on a coast – Hoshi could admit that Vermilion probably had the least appealing beaches.
It was a question of priorities; Cerulean had been a tourist spot for decades, Pallet was only slightly less popular – it was the birthplace of all three of Kanto’s Champions, after all – and Fuchsia was maniacal about its appearance. Vermillion, meanwhile, was a fishing village turned industrial powerhouse and trading hub.
The city’s waterfront was mostly taken up by the docks, with only small stretches of sand – and given that they wanted their celebration to be at least theoretically private, that meant they had to choose a section of coast that wasn’t popular. What they settled on wasn’t exactly the pristine landscape you’d see in a postcard; it was actually a bit dingy, with a texture that could be uncomfortably close to gravel and washed-up seaweed piled around, the mess being picked over by small krabby and spearow.
And on an even more basic level… the water around those cities is just plain warmer than Vermilion Bay. Even with the extended heatwave, which was at last starting to break, the water coming in past the Seafoam Islands was colder than a haunter’s asscrack.
…All that being said, a beach was still a beach, and after the previous day – no, the previous months – Hoshi felt he’d earned at least a little relaxation.
Despite it being the end of September, right in the middle of that hazy boundary between summer and autumn, the sun was shining down like it was the middle of July. But a normal July, Hoshi clarified in his head. Not this year’s freakshow. It felt good; between the heat of the air warming his body and the chill of the sea spray splashing against his legs, he was feeling remarkably even as far as temperature was concerned.
“You coming in, babe?” came a voice from below, and his eyes tilted down from the sky to the ocean.
What he saw made the slightly sterile experience of Vermillion’s beach scene completely outshine any other place in the world – it turned out that Casca did, indeed, own a bikini.
“Fuck no, you people are crazy,” he replied, only half-joking, then hopped back a few steps to dodge his girlfriend’s playful splashing.
“Come on,” she pouted, though the tone was ruined by a giggle a second later. “After that miserable heat the water’s perfect. Get in here!” She floated on her back, seemingly at home in the gently rolling ocean, and Hoshi shivered.
“No thanks. I’ll stay up here with the sane people, thanks.”
Casca raised a brow, tilting her head to gesture at the ‘sane’ people he was referring to – and Hoshi could only laugh as he turned to follow her gaze.
Ryan and Nerine were both sunbathing with their Pokémon, but they couldn’t have been doing it any differently if they tried; Ryan was in a horrendously small pair of shorts, almost a speedo – which, for the record, the man didn’t fill out in the slightest – while the teenager had combined her normal punk clothing with sunscreen and giant sunglasses to create a beach outfit that left zero skin exposed. She can’t have been getting any sun at all, making the whole thing pointless, while Ryan was gradually turning the same shade of red as a well-done corphish.
“…I stand by my words,” he said in the flattest voice he could manage, his arms crossed and his chin high. That drew another round of giggles from the water, the sound receding as Casca paddled further out.
“Suit yourself, stud – it’s your party, after all.” Hoshi turned back to see her eyes flashing with amusement. “You stay nice and dry, and I’ll come out in a minute when the others get tired – seriously, you Vermillions have no stamina in the water.”
He rolled his eyes as he watched her paddle back to where Kenny and Puce were splashing around with their and Casca’s Pokémon – it turned out that sandshrew were actually damn good swimmers, something Hoshi would never have guessed. Says the Cerulean girl. I’m surprised you people don’t have webbed feet for how obsessed with water you are.
The scene was picturesque, dark blues and skin tones and the bright white of the three’s swimwear. Potato the koffing disappeared under the waves for a moment, only to erupt out of the water with Candy clinging to its – her, I think? I’m pretty sure Puce said it was female – underside. The starfish Pokémon let out an excited “Huh!” as they ascended, followed by a more disappointed exclamation when its ride bobbed gently back to the surface. The three humans laughed, and Hoshi found his smile stretching as well.
Good to take a break – a real break, not just a day off. He trotted away from the water, plopping down next to Ryan and his bagon.
The blond was maximising his tan with a mirror, while his coldblooded Pokémon soaked up the heat from a platform of sand it had piled up.
“Yo, who’s up for volleyball?”
Nerine flashed him a look from behind her game console. “Dude, my feet would die. This place is basically just a half-eroded cliff face.”
“Hmm,” Ryan hummed, considering it. “Actually, that sounds grand! I’ve been wanting to absorb more of the local culture – you have a ball?”
“With my stuff, yeah. No net, though, so we’ll just have to eyeball it.”
----------------------------------------
The day went on. Guts didn’t really understand volleyball, preferring to just bat the ball around, but Crow picked it up surprisingly quickly. The others came back from their swim and dragged Nerine in to make it six-on-six – and unsurprisingly Hoshi’s side won; Candy probably could have played on their own, that was how wide the gap was between it and the other Pokémon.
Then Danny finally showed up with a pair of koffing dragging a beat-up old grill, and they ate lunch.
“…And you know this…” Ryan trailed off, sending a dubious look Danny’s way. “…Person?” was the word he finally decided on, after a full three seconds of silence.
“Yeah,” Hoshi replied, mouth half-full of burger. Fuck, it feels good to eat some red meat for once.
Usually he wouldn’t splurge like this, but the Gym win had paid out over a thousand pokédollars alone – put that together with his share of the Rocket money, and Hoshi might just be in the black for all those lessons he’d paid for. Plus there’s all the overtime pay from when the city was falling apart… Yeah, fuck it, I can afford to party a little here and there. The prime tauros beef was grilled to perfection; despite all his faults, Danny was actually a decent cook.
Ryan continued to glance between Hoshi and his friend, his expression not changing.
Okay, yeah, he looks like a weirdo, but… “Don’t worry, he’s cool. He works for Rocket sometimes – I wouldn’t have invited him otherwise.”
The Viridian man’s face became a touch less doubtful, and after a moment’s hesitation he bit into his own burger. “…Very well,” he said after chewing and swallowing. “But did he have to bring those wild Pokémon? They’re spooking Puce’s Potato.”
He wasn’t exactly wrong; the semi-wild koffing were butting against each other up above the grill – competing for the lion’s share of the smoke, Hoshi assumed – and whenever the smaller, younger Potato came by they broke up to glare it away. Not sharing any food with the runt, huh?
“I’m not gonna tell the guy what to do, Sampo. He’s my friend.” Another bite of meat, bread, onions, and cheese punctuated the statement. “Besides, I didn’t see you complaining when your bagon was bowling people over earlier. Don’t be a hypocrite.”
Ryan sniffed. “Bah, that was half the point of the game, wasn’t it?” He turned away, though if he was conceding the point or merely tired of the argument Hoshi couldn’t guess. He settled down beside his Pokémon, giving it a tiny bite of his meat when it begged.
Still a bit of a prick, huh? Hoshi snorted lightly, making his way back to his own little huddle. Whatever. Even if we aren’t friends, I can at least work with the guy – I’ve put up with assholes my whole life, this isn’t any different.
He settled down with Casca on a blanket, and polished off his food while he watched her polish her starfish with a cloth.
“Are you… waxing it?”
She nodded without looking away. “Yup. Standard care – staryu can dry out if they’re out on dry land for too long.”
He ignored the tautology. “Okay, but wax?”
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
A shrug. “That’s what they told me to do. You like it, don’t you honey?”
The bipedal mollusc – or whatever they were, he wasn’t a biologist – gave a short, affirmative “Huh!” and Hoshi decided not to question it any further. You know, I’ve never really thought about it, but staryu are weird. No eyes, no mouths… “Hey Casca, what does it eat?”
“Nothing. Or…” She paused for a moment. “Light, maybe? Actually, their evolution is psychic, so maybe they’re like drowzee and hypno?”
“Eh.” If they ate dreams or other mind-shit they’d probably live around people. Not a lot of intellectuals out in the middle of the ocean. “Seems far fetched – that second one, anyway.”
“Eh,” she grunted back. “If I needed to feed her something they’d have told me. Whatever it is, she gets it just fine on her own.
----------------------------------------
Everyone ate, including the Pokémon. Guts got some lightly-cooked meat, while Crow took hers raw with a side of apple slices. The only one to abstain – other than Candy – was Nerine’s ekans.
She probably feeds it whole corpses, like it would get in the wild… The thought was the slightest bit uncomfortable; he wasn’t squeamish by any measure, but having a rattata of his own made the prospect of eating one… not great.
They played around a bit more, letting their Pokémon run around, and Danny even released his own – not one of his junkyard strays, but a properly captured ‘mon.
The feline emerged from the worn Pokéball licking its paw. Its fur was a greying purple with a tan underside, angular rings of pale red dotted around its back and thighs. That crest around its eyes makes it look like it's wearing a mask… Hah, it looks like a cat burglar!
“Huh,” Hoshi remarked, hiding his amusement. “Don’t think I know the name of that one.”
“Her name’s Slinky,” Danny replied, causing Hoshi to snort.
“The species, man.”
“Liepard,” Nerine answered before Danny could keep the banter going. “Dark type. Native to… Unova, I think? Either there or Galar.”
The big cat – which was about the same size as the Kantonian felines he was familiar with, though more slenderly built – stretched out and yawned. It was obviously in its sunset years, even moreso than Meowth the persian; its fur was thin and wiry, its face squared off in a way that made its eyes look smaller than they were.
“Right on, sister,” Danny sent the teen’s way. “Had ‘im since- ahh, a good long while now. No good for battling no more, but he can sniff out all kinds of stuff.”
He gave the cat a stroke, while Nerine squinted – she was probably trying to parse out the old man’s hideous accent. Or maybe she’s trying to work out what level of ironic his fashion sense is operating at. The man was, like her, making no concessions for the environment; his heavy leather jacket, multicoloured rainbow-puke cap, and general lack of hygiene was the gunge to her punk.
And not necessarily the music genre, either.
“…I bet,” she eventually said, tone uncertain. “Dark types are pretty cool. What other Pokémon do you have?”
“Oh, a whole bunch. Not like, in balls you understand, but they’ll take orders well enough.” He gestured to the two koffing, who had abandoned the cold grill to poke around in the seaweed. “Old school, you know? Lots’a poison types hang around the dump.”
She nodded, and for once Hoshi saw the girl actually start to look a bit interested. “Anything good? I’d like to get a second ‘mon before I try the Gym.” She turned the Senior Grunt’s way. “Our challenges are still good even though I- even though me and Puce bailed, right?”
“Surge can be kind of a hardass about that sort of thing,” Hoshi started. “…But if you show up tomorrow or Wednesday it should be mostly fine. If not, you can just reapply for a small fee.” Though… “But you know you don’t actually need to, right? Not like any of us can actually go to the Nationals.”
“Hah,” Danny muttered under his breath. “Not too real of a fake, huh?”
Nerine shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s… I mean, there’s money for winning, and I think I can do it, so why not?”
“You know, that isn’t a bad idea!” Ryan broke in, ambling over with Puce and Kenny in tow. “We should take another day to go Pokémon hunting!”
What, not satisfied with your dragon? “I can’t take too many days off work, Ryan.”
The ass dismissed Hoshi’s concern with a wave of his hand. “So don’t. The rest of us can make a day of it – you already have two, anyway.”
Kenny stepped nearer. “C’mon Boss, you’ve got the afternoon off, right?” Boss? Huh? Where the fuck did that come from? “We’re gettin’ paid, might as well spend a bit on balls so we can do the next job even better. Am I wrong?”
Hoshi groaned, but he couldn’t actually refute the meathead’s argument. “Fine. Somewhere around six, alright? We can meet up east of town, sweep the route and maybe Diglett’s Cave.”
Kenny pumped his fist, and Puce smiled. Damn, even on my day off I’m having to plan for more work… Not that catching Pokémon is work, but…
“Hey, don’t worry if you can’t find anything,” Danny said, taking back his chunk of the conversation. “I’ve got plenty of Pokémon going for real cheap – you ever seen an Alolan magneton?”
The rest of the group looked at him blankly, and after a second the junkyard owner slinked off, muttering in disappointment as his cat followed on his heels.
Hoshi chuckled. He thinks they all saw the grift, but… “None of you understood a word he just said, did you?”
----------------------------------------
The next morning Hoshi had leftover burgers for breakfast. He fed Guts and Crow again – he was keeping them out of storage for the most part, which was important to making sure they grew to full size – kissed Casca goodbye, and headed to work.
Which was actually pretty okay; there was still a rush of jobs left to do in the wake of the typhoon, and now that the rain was gone it wasn’t nearly as stroke-inducingly humid. Everheart was in a better mood, the machop and machoke were enjoying the sun, and overall it was a better-than-average day of pouring concrete and cutting wood and a dozen other things.
He caught sight of Dabi as the day went on – and ignored him, because as hard as it was to take the warning seriously, he didn’t think Casca would make that finger-breaking shit up. It’s like he’s an entirely different person; his body language isn’t even slightly the same.
Maybe he had some kind of multiple-personality thing going on? Hoshi pondered it through his lunch break, but eventually let the growing pile of questions go. Doesn’t matter, he thought as he dug into his old standby of canned magikarp sandwiched between dollar-store bread.
Dabi Mokusen’s personality issues aren’t my problem. I’ll stay out of his way, and hopefully he’ll stay out of mine. The burning curiosity might be annoying, but it was only that. We probably won’t see each other much anyway – he’s a big-shot scientist and I’m a one-step-from-the-bottom grunt. How often could those two groups possibly interact?
He finished his sandwich, drank down a second can of Volt Switch, and got back to work just as Everheart opened his mouth to bitch about him taking his time.
----------------------------------------
Pokéballs might be hard to get, but for all that the supply had gone down the price of a standard Poké Ball had actually decreased at about the same rate.
Probably because Jet Balls have mostly replaced them, he mused as the Pokémart employee scanned his licence. The laser darted out, bright orange clearly visible even in the well-lit store.
Just as when he’d shelled out for the Swift disk, there was a moment where Hoshi was afraid, all the way to his bones, that the scanner would somehow know; that the beep would be accompanied by the red of fresh blood rather than fresh spring green.
It didn’t happen, because the fear was stupid, but acknowledging that did very little to dampen the relief when the cashier passed him the classic red-and-white balls.
“You want a bag for that, sir?” the teen – who was actually well put-together, unlike the kid in that other mart Hoshi’d visited those few months ago – asked, and Hoshi shook his head.
“No thanks,” he said, the two Pokéballs magnetising to his belt just as well as the disguised Rocket Balls. “Got a thing for them.”
He left the store, headed east, and in a quirk of good timing met up with Casca along the way.
“Babe,” she greeted. “Only two?”
His hand went down to his belt. “Should only need two. Don’t want to expand too quickly – training a whole team’ll be hard enough even with a grown-up Guts and Crow getting the rhythm down; having a bunch of green Pokémon all at once would take…” He grimaced. “Way too much time to fix.” His eye drifted to Casca’s own hip, but it was bare; she must be keeping Candy in her purse. “So just one today. What about you? Gonna fill your whole roster?”
“Naw,” she answered as they continued east. “Just one for me too. I already don’t have a lot of time for training.”
He grunted back, and they walked in silence for a bit. You know, the thought came as the peace drew out a touch of introspection. I’ve been pretty focused on the Gym job, I don’t actually know what Casca does during the day. Am I a shitty boyfriend?
The thought was easily as terrifying as the dumb shock he got in the Pokémart, and after a moment’s more thought he determined it was equally stupid. Fuck no. Not talking about work every hour of the day is fucking healthy, actually, and I should probably bring less of that shit home with me. But even having just said that…
“So how’s the parts of the job I’m not around for, huh?” Unlike his coworker's weirdness, this was a mystery he could easily solve just by asking.
“Oh, it’s a lot less exciting than last night,” Casca answered easily. They passed another couple strolling through the afternoon air, the silence comfortable before she continued. “There’s another gang edging in – you’ve heard of the Night Folk?”
Hoshi’s brain turned over itself for a moment, before he burst out in a surprised laugh. “Ha! Those guys? Danny runs rings around them, they’re pathetic.”
Casca smiled, a hint of exasperation flashing in her blue eyes – not aimed at him, thankfully. “Oh, I wish. We’re not trying to outsell them, we’re trying to run them off – and that’s a lot harder.” She skipped, turning to walk backwards as the wilderness – if Route 11 could be called such – approached. “Oddish can grow basically anywhere, they’re weeds. The moment we get enough force in place for a push, they split and put down roots somewhere else. It’s like bailing water out of a sinking ship… But at least it’s not hard, they don’t have access to stones so they top out at gloom and parasect.”
Hoshi nodded distractedly, his eyes forward – scanning for the rest of his grunts, who should be here already. If they made me come out then started without me… “Need help? I’m sure if I ask, the instructors can put us together.”
She made a negative sound. “Don’t bother. We have enough muscle, and it’s a boring slog ninety percent of the time – you’re better off climbing the ranks with another big thing.”
They bumped shoulders, stepping out of Vermilion City together.