“Morning kids! Time to get up!”
A foul wind howled over the battlefield. Scarred, he stood on his rear legs, exhausted yet defiant. The green beast facing him approached with growled breaths, each step sending shocks through the earth. He clanged his seamitars together, a cocky yet cold smile spreading over his snout. Even as sand pelted him in the snout, he was ready, his heart pumping with the energy of a thousand suns.
“Breakfast is almost ready!”
With a colossal roar, the monster charged. The seamitars rose up in anticipation. Feet steady on the shaking ground, eyes steeled and sharp, he waited for the right moment. His claws buzzed with the desire to plunge both swords into the foul creature, that terrorizer of thousands. He would put its terrifying reign to an end. He would be the knight slaying the dragon, and win the peace for a generation The thought set him ablaze. As the beast charged in, he bared his teeth and leapt with every ounce of strength in his legs...
“GEORGE! BLITZER! BREAKFAST IS READY, GET OUT OF BED OR IT WILL GET COLD!”
Arms flailing, George flopped on the bed until his eyes were open. He propped himself upright, then looked towards his body. Light blue fur, scalchop attached to said fur, and little stubby feet. He sighed. ‘That was fun while it lasted. Back to reality it is.’
“Uuuurgh…”
Blitzer had rolled off his bed and onto the cold floor, eyes spinning and limbs flailing as if he was making an angel in the snow. Smears of dirt stained his cream-coloured chest. George cringed at the sight. ‘Oh dear. Last thing we need is his parents getting even crankier.’
After polishing the dirt off, George grabbed the Charmander’s arm and pulled him upright.
“Gooood mooorning, Geooorge…”
“Good morning to you too, sleepyhead.”
Mornings were tiring. That was a truth in life that carried over to everyone, regardless of who, where or what. Little by little did George drag Blitzer to the living area, where the parents had been waiting on them for several minutes. Nera was looking the other way, while Nero had an air of ire hanging around him.
“There you little scamps are. I was about to give up hope in you two coming on your own. Seriously, one more minute and I’d have dragged you both out of bed by your feet.”
George pulled a sour face. “Why do you have to be so rude?”
Nero let his teeth stick out of his mouth. “We’ve been over this yesterday! We were having a treat for breakfast today, and that jumpy bag of orange right there was practically tearing up the house when we promised! Now we’ve been sitting here watching it get cold for the past few minutes, and where are you two? Not even able to get out of bed. Look like a bunch of Goomy, the both of you!”
“Aaaahh….” Blitzer leaned on George, oblivious to his father’s words.
“Honey, please calm down. It is only morning,” said Nera, still looking in the other direction.
“Yes, yes,” Nero muttered. “Have a seat already. Food’s not getting any warmer.”
“...food?” Blitzer sniffed with the power of a vacuum cleaner. With a burst of energy, he stood on his own two legs and slid his way to the table. “Food!” George almost fell over as Blitzer jolted off him. Shaking his head much like Nero did, he joined the rest of the family at the table.
‘A little warning would have been nice…’
Once the two were seated, Nera finally took her attention away from the nearby wall. “Morning sweetheart. I made your favorite soup this morning.”
“I smelled it!” Blitzer said. “Vegetable soup is the best! Thank you mom!” Nera chuckled back at him. He struggled to contain himself from just lifting up the bowl over his head and dumping its contents straight into his gullet.
“No worries. I found some leftover vegetables in the pantry, and you know I don’t like things going to waste.”
George studied the soup for himself. It wasn’t the prettiest looking concoction, to put it mildly. Vegetable bits bobbing around in a mixture of dim, acidic greens. It at least smelled appetising, but his eyes weren’t feeling it. Long after the family had dug in, George cautiously sipped from the bowl. The broth was salty, with a hint of sweetness inside. It had an odd texture, one which made it difficult to swallow. His taste buds weren’t a fan. Not one bit.
‘Blegh, I’d be surprised if even the headmistress would approve of this.’
Off as the broth was, George didn’t want to just stop right there. With how Blitzer was audibly snarfing it down, there had to have been something George was missing. He took a bite out of one of the vegetables. Softer than jelly with a texture even further in bizarro land than the broth, it slid down George’s narrowing throat. He panted afterwards.
‘Never mind, she would. Urk...’
Blitzer slammed his bowl on the table. “Aah, that was the best! You’re such a great cook, mom!”
“Thank you, son. I always put everything I have into every dish,” Nera said. George stared with sleepless eyes at all the soup he had left, as the others licked their mouths clean. Unable to stomach another bite, George was trapped. They had eaten their fill, while he had hardly taken more than a few bites. The soup stared back at him. Through him, even. It was rude to just leave it standing there. Yet guilt couldn’t bribe him into continuing.
“You romantic fools.” Nero hacked up a chuckle.
“Hey, George? Are you not going to eat that?” Blitzer asked.
All eyes were on George. Despite the guilt now being stirred up, he couldn’t bring himself to lift that wooden spoon up to his mouth one more time. It wasn’t edible. He just couldn’t do it. No amount of struggling could get him to do it. It just wasn’t in him.
“George? Are you okay?” Nera asked, leaning in a little.
The Oshawott shook his pale head. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m not hungry.”
“What do you mean? It is breakfast, you’re supposed to be hungry. Do you not like the soup?”
The wooden spoon fell out of George’s hand. “No. I don’t like it.”
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“Whaaat?! That’s not possible! How can anyone not like mom’s soup? It’s the best!” said Blitzer with curious twitches of his tail. He then leaned forward over the table towards George, resting his elbows on the table and letting his head rest on his claws, his arms acting as support columns. George didn’t want to look him in the eye. His face had been slathered in a mixture of tiredness and anxity, all over some soup. Of course, Blitzer had been eating said soup his whole life. All creatures in this civilised world had been eating it. Except George, of course. The human in him was still present as ever on his taste buds.
“Calm down, you,” Nero grumbled. “Big deal, kid’s been here for a week and you expect him to like all the food we eat right away.”
Nera nodded. “Yes, dear. George is different. That’s all.”
The frown on George’s face grew wider. Different. That’s what he’d be in the end. Not like the others. Oshawott on the surface, the human kid from the foster’s home on the inside. Everyone in the world would eventually see that in one way or another. Not someone who could live an ordinary life here, if that was even possible. The idea of it all being a dream made some noise in his head. Sure, it had been more than a week. Ten days of adventure and sleep and everything in between, all so vivid, but was it truly meant to be? Or was he going to wake up in bed again, ready to receive another scolding? The thought sent a chill down his spine. A cruel joke, that’s what it all was.
“But, but,” Blitzer stammered, “it’s so delicious! Irresistible! How can anyone not like it? That makes no sense.”
Nero rolled his eyes. “Kid, he’s not from here. I just said that.”
“But it’s so good!”
Nera tried calming Blitzer down, who by now had reduced himself to beggarly pleas. George found it hard to watch, keeping his eyes to the soup under his nose. Food for a Pokemon, not a human. It wasn’t going to be the last dish he couldn’t eat. No, his true self was bound to come out. And what would happen then?
‘Headmistress…’
“Blitzer, we know, you like it a lot, but George doesn’t. Don’t take it so hard, will you?” Nera asked her son. George felt a foreleg drape around his neck. “Let little George take his time getting accustomed to things, none of us know what he’s really going through. Thrown in here with us, and there’s no way back home.”
“T-that’s not true, he-”
Blitzer was stopped from talking any further by a purple foreleg. Nero’s ears were flat against his head. “Lad. You’re not one to talk about handling change. Remember the time we suggested you find another roof to sleep under for a day? ‘Cause I sure do. You spent the whole day crying your eyes out.”
“H-hey! That’s not true!”
“Oh yes it is. Still remember it like it was yesterday.”
“But it was years ago!”
Nera beat the table a few times with a foreleg. “Alright, I think that’s enough breakfast for today. George, I’ll get you some berries. We’re having something else tomorrow, don’t worry. We might not have much, but we still have choices. As long as the gatherers remain successful and the merchants keep coming, we should be fine… yes,” she said with a hint of anxiety in her voice. “Let’s clean this up. You two can have leftover soup if you want.”
“Yaay!”
“Fine by me.”
* * *
Having cleaned up after breakfast and after wiping off the berry juice that made up for the soup, George put on his scarf and went outside on his own. He wanted time alone to think, and sat down at the side of the path. From here, it was a slope down to the stream. Fortunately, no other villagers would bother him, with the house being located at the end of a path. It was a good place for a small respite. Some alone time to calm the senses. In theory, anyway.
“Wait for me!”
The door of the hovel audibly fell into its frame. Footsteps came up behind; who else, besides Blitzer? George’s head dipped as he turned to face the Charmander, whose protests over the soup had long been forgotten.
“There you are. Man, you are fast when you want to be!” said Blitzer, still fidgeting with the scarf he’d tied up in hurry. It looked as if he had gotten into a fight with the scarf while putting it on.
“Well, you did say you wanted to set out as fast as we could, right?” George replied.
Blitzer nodded. “Yeah, of course. That’s me, alright. But that didn’t mean you had to hurry ahead of me, right?”
George bit his tongue. “Yeah.” ‘Telling him is only going to make things worse. Let’s not.’
Company at his side, George had to leave his respite behind for now, and walked through town with Blitzer. The message had vaguely pointed them north from the signs at the entrance to the village, so they believed, and so that was where they were headed. Passing by the ever so peaceful houses and fields in bloom, there was a noticeable lack of energy. Something was missing, yet what was a question mark for both.
In any case, the village seemed fine after half of the food supply had been confiscated a week earlier. There was a lively atmosphere coming from the café, people treated their neighbours with respect. War, famine, oppression, disaster, it could all come and go, and Greenfield would still go on as usual. This little town had a spirit unmatched by anything else. Out of all places, George was glad to have ended up here.
Upon approach to the entrance, Blitzer poked George on the shoulder. “So, do tell me. Why don’t you like mom’s soup?”
George glanced at Blitzer, his mouth curled into a slight frown. “Why do you ask?”
To this, the young Charmander shrugged. “I don’t know, I just think it is odd. Her soup is the best.”
“Not to me it isn’t.”
“But how?”
George gulped. “My tastebuds are just the way they are, that’s why. You have your own, right? Sometimes they agree with what you’re sticking into your mouth, and other times they don’t. This was one of the times that they didn’t.”
“But why? How could they?” Blitzer had now grabbed George by the arm with one claw, the underdeveloped nails on the end of each finger digging into George’s skin, much to the latter’s displeasure.
‘Damn, he really isn’t giving up on this, is he?’
“Like I know, I’m not a cooking expert! All I know is that it felt funky, tasted salty, and wasn’t pleasant to eat, that’s all.”
Blitzer shook his head. “Well, clearly something isn’t right, then. No one dislikes my mom’s cooking, especially not her soup. That’s a meal fit for a hero!”
“Yeah, right on!” A voice spoke from the bushes.
“Aah!” Blitzer jumped backwards, only to be startled further by a voice from the other side.
“Last part’s overselling it!”
“Wh-what’s going on?!” Blitzer cried out. A yellow tail shaped like a lightning bolt stuck out from the left side, followed by the tip of a large white object. From behind, some kind of magical activity bristled the fur on the back of George’s head, sort of like his body tried to communicate something in a language he couldn’t speak.
“Haha! You didn’t think we’d just let you leave like that, right?”
Junior came out of the bushes bearing a smug grin. Next to him was Corst, eyes as expressionless as the day prior. Behind them, Alcia hovered her way over the shrubbery, while the Buizel whose name George had not caught wind of walked onto the path, a face covered in crumbs from breakfast.
“Wait, how’d you know?!” Blitzer asked.
Junior giggled. “Well, Alcia?”
“You might not know it, Blitzer, but I have the power to read minds! And when I saw you yesterday, it was written all over you: Tomorrow morning, I and George will be going out exploring!”
“Whaaat! You never told me!” Blitzer said, visibly exasperated. The other children were all giggling at them without much to hide. It was written all over them, and George wasn’t having any of it.
“No you can’t! That’s nonsense!”
“Well, how’d ya be so sure of that?” asked the Buizel.
George folded his arms. “Alright. Where am I from?” he asked, his voice stern and clear.
“Alright, alright, you got me,” Alcia said, chuckling all the while. George wasn’t impressed. It all was too obvious of a trick. Mind reading wasn’t a thing. Not at that early of an age, anyway. Even this world had to have some rules.
All the while, Blitzer’s head was spinning. “But then how did you know?”
“How wouldn’t we know it is more like it!” Corst said. “You’d have to be stupid to believe you two weren’t up to anything. You got called away by some Tangrowth no one’s ever seen, then when you come back you’re all like ‘oh no, no big deal’ with the stiffest faces in the world! We weren’t born fifteen minutes ago, anyone could see you were hiding something, and it was probably exploring related, since you love exploring so much.” Corst walked up to Blitzer, and bonked him on the shoulder with a stick. “So no surprises here.”
Blitzer sighed. “Alright, you got us. But could you please not tell anyone? It’s important.”
“Why not?” asked Corst. “You’re just going exploring, the whole village knows that’s what you like doing.”
George bit his lip. “It was in the message. We shouldn’t tell anyone where we’re going. That includes you, but I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”
Junior looked saddened at the ground. “Oh. That’s a shame. But if that’s how you’d prefer it, then sure, I have no problem with it. You’re both good in my book.”
“Hey, what’s a cat?” the Buizel asked. George’s hand flew up to the back of his head to scratch away an itch.
“Uh, I’ll tell you some other time, alright?”
“Is it a Pokemon up north?”
George nodded. “Yeah, something like that.” ‘Close one.’
“You two shouldn’t worry,” Alcia said. “We’ll have your backs. That’s what friends do for each other, right?”
“Right!”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t tattletale on anybody, ever!” Junior proclaimed as if giving a speech. “Wherever you’re going, I hope you will enjoy yourselves. Maybe you’ll find some treasure, too!”
“Why anyone would ask you two to go diving into a Mystery Dungeon for them, I don’t know. But I sure can’t complain! It’s about time something happened around here!” Corst said with closed eyes.
“You guys… thank you so much…” Blitzer whispered.
“After last week, you deserved this much,” Corst said. “I’m glad that you’ve changed.”
“H-have I?”
“Yes, you have.”
George watched as the Cubone grabbed Blitzer by the wrist. Blitzer’s eyes were full of disbelief. He had a miserable history with Corst, one whose scars were slowly healing. George felt much better watching it take place. It was good seeing them come together. They lived in a small world, one where you’d best get used to one another.
After a few seconds, Corst let go, and Blitzer nodded.
“Again, thanks so much for coming here, guys. I really appreciate it. And… I want to say sorry again for everything. Goodbye for now, I guess… we should get going.”
“Goodbye, Blitzer and George! Best of luck out there, eh?” Junior said with a wave. The others soon joined the Pikachu with waves of their own. The two nodded in approval, before setting out over the fields past the sign, glancing back to give a final nod before the two camps went separate ways. With the belief of the others at their backs, George and Blitzer felt ready for whatever was out there. It may be scary, life-threatening even, but they’d always be wearing their determined smiles with pride in their hearts.