Earlier that morning, when they had a foot out the door, George and Blitzer had been explicitly warned. ‘Don’t come back like you did three days ago!’ The closer they got to the village, the louder that statement rang through their heads. Each change in scenery, from plain to forest to bog, someone turned up the volume of that statement. Couldn’t get away from it. Didn’t matter how much any of the three complimented another on their fighting ability, talked about a Pokemon or group of Pokemon they spotted off road, Nero and Nera’s words strained the mind. Not even a swarm of Combee descending upon a poor Beedrill got rid of it.

No surprise then that when they entered the village, and then stepped into the square, then went on the last crossroad between the road leading to the hovel and the path leading over the stream, their moods swung sour. The skies had taken on an orange tint, and a good chunk of the village had already headed home. Given the clouds moving in opposite of the sun, that was for the better.

“Well kids, thanks again for everything. I’ll knock on your door again some time tomorrow. You know, just makin’ sure those two Poisoners haven’t locked you up for weeks. Wouldn’t sit right with me, ya know!” Speedy poked Blitzer in the chest with an elbow. The gesture didn’t go over well: Blitzer pushed Speedy’s arm away.

“We’ve been away for a long time, though. If my parents find so much as a single scratch on me, we’re finished,” the Charmander said, cradling his tail. “What if they still won’t let us out even if you do take the blame for everything?”

Speedy twirled his ears upwards. “Heh. Don’t you worry about that, lad. They can’t ground me! I’ll be their problem until they change their minds, promise.”

George patted himself on the nose. “What about Junior, though? You still have him to watch over,” he said, then licked his upper lip. ‘Or better yet, what if another group of thieves comes along to steal his badge. Once bitten, twice shy, right? ’

“Junior can handle himself. That little lad’s none of my concern. In fact, biggest concern I have is that you two kids can’t go and be kids with him! Lad needs some more action in his life, and you two are perfect for that.”

George scratched his head. “Thanks, I guess.” ‘ I thought parents weren’t supposed to be that laid back about their kids. Different world, different species, I guess. ’

“We should get going now, before my parents want to barricade me in my room,” Blitzer said.

“Yeah, I was about to send you two off anyway. I got a kid that needs dinner. And I’m sure you two do as well.”

“Oh yes,” Blitzer chirped, patting his cream colored tummy with a claw. “I haven’t eaten anything since the morning.” Gradually, a frown crept onto his snout. “We should have gotten something to eat in Agate Township.”

George crossed his arms over his scalchop. “I’d prefer going hungry to that, to be honest.”

“Why, George?”

“Do you trust any of those people to give you good food?” George asked Blitzer, whose tongue slid between his lips.

“Well it was worth a try, right? We could’ve gone inside of that… what was it called? Roark’s Cafe-”

“Nope! Nope, the Oshawott lad has the right idea, Blitzer. Too expensive! I’ve been to placed like that myself, before, and yes, heheh, it uh, it was an expensive stay,” Speedy said while pinching his cheeks in an attempt to bury an awkward grin. “Anyway, let’s not stand around here too much longer, yes? Get yourselves some rest, you deserve it lads.”

“Okay?” Blitzer said, dumbfounded. George clicked his tongue. Better not to question someone with more world experience.

* * *

“Took you two long enough to get back.”

“Dad, I told you, Speedy needed to get some stuff from Agate Township, and that’s pretty far.”

“Not that far, is it?”

“Yes mom, it is! More than an hour to get there, at least! And we had to carry stuff back home after he was done buying what he needed, which took a long time.”

Steam curled up from the stew underneath George’s nose. Hints of some sort of meat were clearly present in the mixture; it smelled too appetising for it to be more of that vegetable gunk Nera had served a few days ago. Where the meat came from, only Arceus knew. George wasn’t energised enough to delve into the rabbit hole of what Pokemon the meat came from. As long as it wasn’t one of the townsfolk he was about to stuff into his mouth, that’s all he cared about. Pokemon weren’t humans at the end of the day. Their idea of what was ethical wouldn’t be the same. For all he knew, he was biting into wild Nidorino, or Nidorina. Or Charmander.

Not that thinking this through mattered, given that George’s appetite was being ruined enough as was by Nero and Nera deciding dinner time would be a fine time to start an argument with Blitzer. At times it felt like he was sitting at the table with two detectives who were trying to get him and his partner in crime to spill the beans. Blitzer played coy for a while, but even he had enough of explaining the exact same things over and over at a certain point. He resorted to dirty looks and swinging his tail around, much to the chagrin of Nero who was anxiously watching the flame at the tip whish by a stump of wood.

“Hey there, watch it! You’ll burn the whole house down, mister!”

Blitzer crossed his arms. “Why don’t you believe us, then? We’re not lying!”

“Blitzer, honey, we do believe you,” Nera said.

“No you don’t!”

“We do, we’re just concerned something might have happened. Agate Township is a rough place. Even a strong Pokemon like you can get seriously hurt if you don’t watch out.”

“But we didn’t get hurt! Can’t we just eat?”

“As long as you calm down, you,” Nero grumbled. “Can’t even ask my own kid questions anymore. Knew you’d get moody at some point, but Arceus almighty…”

“Moody? What are you talking about?” Blitzer churred. Nero flicked his ears backwards.

“That middle ground between kid and adult, lad. Everyone deals with it at some point. You’ve just hit it.”

“Let’s not talk about this today, shall we? The stew is getting cold,” Nera said, drumming a forepaw onto the table.

George stretched his arms over his head. ‘ Finally, they’re done ,’ he thought to himself. A soft groan from his stomach made him leer into the soup. Saliva began to accumulate under his tongue. Holding a spoon in his hand, it was time to eat. The day had been too long as was.

When they were done eating, it had already become dark outside. A chill crept into the hovel. Much to Blitzer and George’s protests, however, the parents forced them to go and bathe.

“It’s cold! I don’t want to go and bathe!”

“Too bad, Blitzer. You stink.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes you do. Quit whining.”

“How many times have I told you? I don’t like water, it makes me feel all cramped.”

“Too bad. I don’t like water either. But guess what? I’m not letting you stink the house up with that musk of yours.”

“Ugh…”

One cold rinse later, the two were allowed to go to their room. Blitzer was groaning and scratching wildly at his belly and his legs, while George had a slight smile on his face. If it wasn’t so cold, then bathing wouldn’t be a problem. Bathing made him happy. It was instinctual. Oshawotts liked being around water. Their bodies were made for it.

After messing around with some toys, the two went to sleep. Who knew what tomorrow would bring.

* * *

Sunshine awaited them the next day. On their way out, Nero and Nera had given them the same lecture on not straying too far from the village, which they carelessly nodded their heads to, George keeping his fingers crossed all the while. How fortunate that Pokemon did not know what human gestures meant.

“Uargh, I’ve been dying to get outside today! I’ve got a headache,” Blitzer chirped, one hand rubbing his shiny head.

George yawned as they walked the path leading downwards.“You too?”

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“Yeah. It just kind of started right as I rolled out of bed.”

“Did the flute get into your nest overnight?” said George, thumbing his nose. Blitzer chuckled back at him along with an excited flicker from his tail.

“Well it sure would explain a lot!” the Charmander chirped, once again rubbing his head. “This is real annoying, though. It feels like someone hit me over the head with a log. Something like that. Or that something is sticking out of my head.”

“Odd,” George replied. A headache wasn’t the only thing that was off. Blitzer was walking rather funny, as if his legs were stretched and out of proportion. It looked like he could fall right over if he so much as kicked a pebble by accident. George kept paying attention to it every now and then. If he had to guess, it was either a growth spurt, or early morning grogginess not having worn off yet.

Bltzer’s erratic movement didn’t wear off when they met up with the other kids and started messing around with them. He was slow in tag, wasn’t quite as agile as he used to be with jumping on rocks, and panted a lot easier than on any day prior. Despite this, and even with a lot of the other kids asking him if he was okay, Blitzer insinuated that he felt fine, chalking it all up to a bad day. He wasn’t about to let his little difficulties get in the way of himself. That was for sure.

Once the fun and games died down, they all sat down by the stream, everyone except Corst and Blitzer dipping their feet into the water. Corst fidgeted around with his rocky helmet, his panting echoing underneath.

“Boy, it sure is hot today, isn’t it?”

“Tell me about it. I’ve been wanting to jump into the water for an hour now, but my parents would slap me silly if they found out! All because the water smells bad when it's in my fur.” Sweitelle said, kicking her feet around in the water.

“You have your feet in the water now though, don’t you?” asked George, who was sitting next to her.

“That’s different,” Sweitelle said. The Pikachu sitting to her left shook his head.

“Your parents are crazy. My dad would never put a silly restriction on me like that. What do they care? It’s hot! And you’re of water, too!”

Sweitelle sighed. “That’s just the way they are, I guess…”

The others all frowned. The sun wasn’t being kind on them, given the panting sounds in the air. George took a glance at the water and had an idea. “Well, since your feet are already wet, can’t you just run through the water? In fact, why don’t we all just do that?”

“Please no, I don’t want to make it any worse than it already is.”

“Well, I’ll go anyway. It’s too hot, darn it.” George jumped to his feet. “I don’t care if the water smells!”

“George, be careful! The current is a lot stronger than you think-” Junior warned, to no avail; George had already hopped into the widest part of the stream he could find, flashing a smile as he hopped through to the other side. The water felt incredibly refreshing to the touch. A wave of calmness went over him as droplets spattered around everywhere. Without a care in the world, he ran up the other side of the stream, right onto a portion of road. Just in time to hit the large figure standing on said road.

“Oof!”

He slammed head first into what felt like a large ball of vines, which he bounced ht off, causing him to tip over backwards onto his rear.

“Oh, my! Watch out there, laddie!”

Eyes now open and paying attention, George found himself looking up at a large fellow covered in all too familiar blue tendrils, who was looking at him with great curiosity.

“Wait, you again?”

“Ah yes! You are Jor-je, right? I’ve been looking for you! I must say, this is not how I intended to introduce myself, but here I am anyway” the Tangrowth postman said, making thumping noises with his right arm; slung around that side of his body was a large bag made out of material that resembled linen.

“Hey, it’s you!” Blitzer chirped from over the stream.

“That’s right, it’s me alright! The postman! Oh, uh, I’m not really that important. Just an honest postman doing his job, that’s all,” the Tangrowth said with a soft, heavy chuckle. You could hear the weight of the tendrils in his voice.

Tail swaying back and forth with enough force to get a few yelps out of the others, Blitzer stumbled his way over the stream, snout hanging halfway open from what George assumed were a dozen questions itching in the back of his throat. The postman reflexively took a step back; his eyes were drawn to the flame being swung back and forth.

“More news? More news?”

“Well yes, there is always new news, except for the times when there’s nothing new.”

“What about us?” Blitzer tilted his head sideways.

“That’s why I’m here!” The postman exclaimed, pointing both his large tendril arms at a spot just under his eyes. “I am indeed here to hand you something new, yes. Well uh, no, that’s not entirely correct, I’m not allowed to hand over post to kids myself. I gave it to the friendly ghost man running the café. Now then, since you managed to get your hands on the last bit of news from there, I’m sure you’ll have no issues doing so again this time. Correct?”

George and Blitzer both sucked in a breath between their teeth, tepidly nodding towards the postman with about as much conviction as someone whose hands had been in the cookie jar.

“Oh yes, he uh, he did give us the message, yes,” Blitzer said, pinching his sides.

“Yes, what he said,” George said right after, pointing a finger in the wrong direction. ‘ Well, it was less giving us the massage, and more having the message shoved into my face, then getting kicked out, but it’s not wrong, I guess .’

“Good, good!” the Tangrowth cheerily said, rubbing his arms together and jingling the other tendrils covering his body around. “So then, are there any other questions that need answering? I uh, I am a bit busy today. Big workload and all! A lot of post to be delivered, I’m afraid.”

“Is this related to the last message?” Blitzer asked.

“Ah yes, it most certainly is,” the postman said with a few nods in rapid succession. “The ghost man told me himself. ‘It took long enough for this to come in, I have been rotting waiting for this’, that’s what he said, word for word! I don’t know what he means with rotting, but there you have it.”

“Oh, okay,” Blitzer said. George pressed his tongue against the side of his cheek.

‘Oh boy, this will be a world of fun, won’t it?’

“Now then, kids, any other questions, or is this enough information?”

“Well, I don’t think there’s any other information to be gotten, we just have to go in there now,” George said. His ears poked up from Blitzer breathing in right next to him; no words followed.

“Good, good, then I will get going again. Have a good day, fellow kids!”

With a nod, a wave, a stumble, a laugh and slap in his own face, the Tangrowth stomped off. George breathed out.

‘Well, that just happened.’

The other kids came running over the stream, the splashing causing George and Blitzer to turn on the balls of their feet. “Hey, it was that Tangrowth again. What was that all about?” Junior asked, to which Blitzer shrugged.

“Änother message for us. That’s it.”

“What’s in it?”

Blitzer shook his head. “I don’t know, we have to go and pick it up from café like last time.”

Junior frowned. “The café? You mean from that creepy ghost?”

George hummed a dull note. “Yeah, we do. I don’t like it either.”

Corst clubbed the ground with a stick he’d found. “I know who you mean! I’ll tell you what, that ghost is a big jerk! I still remember one day, where I was all by myself, playing with a ball, and it rolled into his yard, okay? Totally by accident, yet he comes out shaking that big fist, telling me to pick it up all angrily.”

Sighing, Blitzer turned his back to the others. “Alright then… George, let’s just get this done and over with. The sooner we’re there, the sooner we’re done.” George shook his head and followed in his footsteps.

“Yeah, sure.”

“What about us?”

“We’ll explain the rest later.”

* * *

From the moment the first strum from the guitar reached their ears, and the murky air hanging inside of the café filled up their nostrils with the stench of old juice, it was clear they were in for a treat. There was no guard stopping them, like last time. George’s eyes panned from wall to floor. All that was missing now was the inevitable moment when Hein would pop out, press his hands into their backs, and scold them silly. Any second now. The spectral echo of his voice would hit them square in the ear. They treaded with light feet. Any second now. They got past the curve hiding the rest of the café from the entrance. Any second now. They got to the bar. Blitzer and George, who had their hands raised and had walked so gently that none of the wooden floor boards had creaked thus far, put their hands back down.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know, in that back room, maybe?”

“But then he wouldn’t be able to see who was coming in, could he?”

“Will you two kids shut up back there? You’re not even supposed to be in here!” a patron two tables over yelled at the two, juice leaking out of their maw and onto their fur.

“S-sorry!” A spooked Blitzer meeped back at him. “We’re only here for a letter.”

“They don’t deliver letters here, kid! Are you stupid?”

Blitzer almost choked on the saliva he audibly swallowed. The patron was looking at them like their very presence in the café was an insult. An insult that didn’t warrant any other response other than a beatdown. Those feline eyes were filled to the brim with the fury to give them just that. George tried reaching for his scalchop, only to find it already in his hands. Said hands didn’t need to wait for George’s mind to catch up, not in times like these. It hadn’t come to blows yet, though, and surely the people of Greenfield wouldn’t ever resort to violence against someone that was barely a teenager, would they? That was George’s hope.

“Excuse me sir, but we won’t be here for very long. Only one or two minutes at best, we just need to see the café owner-”

“Get outta ‘ere, you!!” the patron roared back. George and Blitzer, now shaking and jittering, fell backwards into a pair of waiting hands. Soft, cold. That’s what pressed against their backs. That’s all they needed to know.

“Shut it.”

Echoes rang through the café, silencing the guitar and the others present, who were merely enjoying a chat over a cup of berry juice. A spectral presence manifested behind the two. Their legs shook like branches in an ominous wind.

“Shout at my guests again, and forget about your liver inevitably giving up. I’ll drop you off in the afterlife myself.”

The patron in Hein’s crosshairs growled back at him, visible electric sparks jolting from his fangs. The Dusknoir took his hand from George’s back and stretched his arm out at the patron. A peculiar feeling shot through George’s body, starting from the print of Hein’s touch. Wide eyed and confused, he looked behind him to see the ghost’s lone eye taking on a sinister glow. Something flew over George’s head. It couldn’t be seen, but it was there. A gasp rang through the air; the skin under the patron’s fur looked as if it was being pushed off their body. Foam emerged in place of the sparks, as the patron fell out of his chair, wildly flailing his limbs around as the others in the cafe watched on in horror. Any hint of coziness in the air had been sucked out of the building.

“What an idiot.” Hein reached onto George’s back, only to immediately pull his hand back away. “Huh. Well now.”

“Wh-what are you doing?” George asked.

“Nothing, kiddo. Just an itch. You have those too, don’t you?”

George gritted his teeth. The very thought of having to look the ghost behind his back in the eye was painful. Not one drop of blood inside his body wasn’t running cold. If only he had Blitzer right by his side, he wouldn’t feel so powerless. More than a bug. Maybe comfortable enough to address the ghost as if he wasn’t capable of breaking their spirit with a flick of his fingers. Alas, Blitzer was too busy shaking in the grasp of Hein’s other hand, too terrified to even speak. “Y-yes sir.”

“Indeed.” Hein patted him on the shoulder, then turned his eye and antenna towards the rest of the room. “My apologies, everyone. Please get back to what you were doing. I will be busy with these two clowns for a little while, then I’ll clean up the mess. Patience, if you may.”

The strumming of the guitar started back up as the two were led into the back room from the last time. George was dead silent, staring straight in front of him as an unseen force pushed him and Blitzer away. Blitzer wasn’t taking it well. Softly whimpering as he was being led away, starstruck by what his two eyes had seen. He was all alone. George couldn’t slide a hand over to comfort him: His limbs barely budged from his own commands. The unseen force had locked him out.

“What are-” George felt a cold tug on his lips. Next thing he knew, they had dried out and practically molded together. They too stopped responding.

“Quiet. You’re annoying my guests.”

The whines and whimpers became louder. Hein didn’t silence them. Instead, he pushed the palms of his hands into the backs they were holding. All the hairs on George’s back flew up straight from a cold wave of static as he staggered onto a mat. There, his knees gave way, and he dropped onto them. Blitzer fell on his one mat over, right next to the entrance, hyperventilating and shivering all the while. The mark of that palm would not go away anytime soon. Not for George, and least of all for Blitzer. George took one good look at him. No words he could say could describe what Blitzer had to be feeling. Hein’s touch had been cruel, and colder than a black heart. George slapped the ground with his tail. It was like he had a sudden wish for death.

“What’s wrong with you?!”

“Excuse me, what was that?” Hein cupped a hand around the tip of his antenna.

“I said, what’s wrong with you? What did you do to that Pokemon in the café just now? Why did you just drag us in here?” George yelled back. The Dusknoir wasn’t impressed. George steeled his nerves, anticipating that he was about to become the victim of another reprisal. Ghosts were not to be taken lightly, not one bit. But the anger inside of him overruled any sense of self preservation. Even if it wasn’t going to end well, he had to do something.

The Dusknoir scoffed, seeing the little Oshawott standing on the mat with his fists clenched. “Feisty today, aren’t we?”

“I’m not letting you hurt us anymore,” George groaned.

The lone eyeball rolled around. “As if I’d even consider that.”

“You just did! Look! Look at what you’ve done to my friend!”

“Wasn’t me that scared him. He scared himself. Some Char he is, can’t even look a fat bastard like me in the eye,” Hein chuckled.

“Why you…!” George softly groaned through his teeth. Hein poked a pinky finger out him. A ghastly force compelled him to sit back down, and forget any hostile thoughts he might have had.

“Listen to me you chippy idiot. I don’t go out of my way to hurt my business. Maybe you’ll understand this once you lose the freckles, but I like to keep a clean house. No drunkards, no weirdos, no hawkers, et cetera. So, if you’d please be patient, I’ll hand you your damn letter, and we can go back to pretending we never met. Is that clear?”

Hein leaned over until his eye was directly over George’s head. George remained silent for a few seconds, keeping a cards player’s stare onto his face in spite of the giant mouth hovering inches away from him. A cold wind blew up against his feet; his ears were flat, vibrating as they listened to the hollow moans pouring out of Blitzer’s mouth.

“Clear.”

“Good.” A piece of paper was pressed into George’s hand. “Here’s your damn message. You still have the flute piece, don’t you?”

“Yes,” George said with a slight nod.

Hein spread his arms wide and clapped. The sound was very dull. Something akin to a dusty book being dropped onto the floor. “So you aren’t entirely useless after all, congratulations.”

George swallowed a glob of saliva. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Enough of this jabber. You can read it back later, but to make a long story short, you need to take that flute piece to the center of Greenwood Forest. There, in the center of the Mystery Dungeon is a tree stump in a field. Put the flute down there, and get back out. Clear?”

“...sure.”

“Good. Now then, piss off you two.”

Hein watched on as George got off his feet, then helped his still mortified friend off the mat, dragging him out of the room. Blitzer gladly accepted his hands around his arm. More so than even a cripple would. Hein shook his antenna around as they disappeared from his café, pressing the palm of his hand against his lone eye.

“And this is who Terez is putting all her hopes into…”