1
I stood wearily outside my new home. My knees were still weak from the ferry ride. I really didn't gel with the sea, and it didn't like me too much either. What made my feelings considerably more bitter than they already were was the fact that I didn't even want to be on the ferry in the first place.
"Well, what do you think?" Dad asked me, smiling. I looked at him and noticed a few flecks of vomit on his shoes. I felt an enormous and rare wave of affection for him at that moment, as he'd spent most of his time on the ferry holding my hair behind my head and hadn't said a word.
It took me another moment to realise that he'd asked me a question. I turned to look at our new place.
"All I can see is the front door," I answered, wiping cold sweat off my forehead. "And it needs repainting."
"Don't be like that, Jen." He seemed a little hurt. "Think of this as a new start. Besides, you've finished school now and that means" he bent closer to my ear and spoke quietly, "you can finally start a serious training career!"
My face must've turned less green at this, for he smiled.
"You'll feel better about it when you feel better yourself!" He hugged me and I wriggled away, groaning and clutching my stomach. "Oops. Sorry. I forgot… Anyway, our stuff's already inside so come and unpack and have a good look around." He was acting like a kid at Christmas. I'd never seen him this happy or talkative before. Although I didn't want to move in the first place, I had to admit that this change the move had bought was an our big red sofa to lie down on for a while, I followed Dad into the small flat. It had a nice quaint feel about it. The main room seemed cosy enough - I was pleased to see the sofa in the middle of the room, taking up the most space and looking as inviting as ever - and the view from the window was picture perfect and I made a mental note that I must draw it at some stage. Maybe this new place wasn't so bad after all.
"It's not so bad," I stated, bluntly. Dad seemed busy with the kitchen, shoving a frozen pizza in the oven before turning to inspect the cupboards. The kitchen was just the corner of the living room with tiles to accentuate the partition. The walls were painted paprika red and the carpet was black. Our white, fake-fur rug blended nicely with the whole look. Boxes of the rest of our possessions lined the walls, stacked messily, evidently by Pokémon movers - apparently they were all the rage in Hoenn.
"Pizza in twenty," Dad read off the back of the box before throwing it into the sink. "Oh, Jennifer, you haven't seen your room yet. Come have a look and sort your stuff out."
"I'll do it later. I can't be bothered," I called back, dropping down on the sofa and kicking off my trainers.
"Where have I heard that before?" Dad walked behind the sofa and grinned down at me. "Come on, I'll show you your room."
He held out a hand and I took it reluctantly. He yanked me up - ignoring my protest at the force - and walked over to the back of the room. Three doors lined the wall, the third one more spaced out from the other two. He walked over to the door on the right and pushed it open.
It was a small boxy room with the same black carpet as the living room. The walls were plain white with a window taking up most of the one opposite the door. I was pleased to see that all my things were there; the left half of the room was taken up by my bed - upon which three boxes sat - and the other half by a thin wardrobe and an average-sized desk - upon which one box and an old-fashioned, silver-plated alarm clock sat. I walked over to the clock and picked it up, turning it over in my hands. It ticked noisily at me.
"I bought you a new clock, seeing as Amy sat on your old one at the leaving party..." Dad seemed eager to please me. "The room's a bit small but you'll have the house to yourself a lot so…"
He trailed off into a hesitant silence. I smiled at him to put his mind at rest.
"Thank you," I said looking up at his face which broke it's tense cover. I felt a little better as he was clearly trying to make up for turning my life upside down.
"Seal of approval achieved." He gave a gimmick salute. "Well, I'm going to sort out the flat. I'll call you when dinner's ready."
I nodded as he backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him. I sighed loudly, swept the boxes off the mattress with a bang and lay down on the bed, eyes closed, thinking deeply. Hoenn was going to be weird. Very weird. It was weird enough moving from Kanto to Johto, and those regions were adjoined. Hoenn was totally separate from Johto, which was where my heart would always be. What made matters worse was the fact that my friends were there, although I didn't have too many to miss, and I knew absolutely no one in this new, separate region. I knew the people who I would miss the most would me Lance and Amy; I'd barely spent a day not seeing at least one of them for the past three years - with Lance, it was about seven - and I knew the pangs would start quickly. I even thought I would miss school a bit, though I'd finished my final year. It was scary to think I was now free… Sixteen and at liberty to do whatever I chose to do. Thinking it over, if the option was open to go back into education, I would probably take it. But there was nothing left to learn unless I was to specialise in something, and I had no idea what I wanted to do.
Even on my own, my mind prodded me for lying to myself; there was something I desperately wanted to do. Something I'd wanted to do since I could remember but never really thought I could do it…
To become a Pokémon trainer would be amazing.
Yet, I knew how tough it would be; the only reason why I'd never settled down anywhere was because of Dad. Or, as he is known to the rest of the world, James Collins; dark Pokémon trainer. We were moving a lot when he was running his way up the league ladder and once he'd hit his target and got to where he wanted to be, we still kept moving because he couldn't settle in a job for any duration. I hadn't minded so much then because he'd stayed in Johto, but now he'd taken off to a whole new place and I didn't like it. I was very angry with him when he broke the news to me. Our relationship was complex, and this new revelation did nothing to it except add another crack in the foundations.
And yet… starting the league in Hoenn would be appropriate with starting afresh in general… It could be the beginning of the rest of my life, so to speak.
These thoughts lead me down a long tunnel of imagination which quickly spiralled into a dream-filled sleep.
I groaned and rolled over, clutching my pillow closer around my head. This struck me as odd, as I hadn't had a pillow to start with. Nor did I have the duvet which was currently tangled around my legs. I sat up abruptly and looked around the room. The curtains had been drawn, a slither of light beaming through the crack between them, and the boxes I'd pushed off my bed had been fiddled with: books, sketchpads and several piles of photographs were now on the desk and the wardrobe door was open, revealing most of my clothes hanging on coat hangers, my shoes littering the bottom. My fluffy purple cushion was on the swivel chair and my manky old slippers were by the edge of the bed.
I got out of bed, feeling another unfamiliar rush of affection for my dad as my feet slithered themselves into the slippers. I walked over to the desk, stretching out my limbs and shaking my head like a Growlithe, and looked down blearily at the photos. Three faces looked back at me, smiling and raising wine glasses filled with drink to the camera. The middle face was me, looking considerably wasted, which was fishy as I avoided alcohol at raucous parties like the one I was at. The blonde on the right of me was Amy, who, as I found out later, was responsible for spiking my drinks. The assistant in this crime was on my left with red hair and a rose between his teeth. Lance, of course, was near passing out at the time the picture and it showed too. I grinned fondly at my two friends, before feeling the great need to shower. I walked over to one of the closed boxes, rummaged for a fresh set of clothes and headed for the bathroom.
Half an hour later, I was up and unpacking the rest of my things. It took a surprisingly short time to get everything in order and before long, I was sticking up the photos with blue tack on the wall space above my desk. I was just about finished when I heard Dad knock on my door.
"Mmhmm?" I turned round as he pushed the door open, squashing the empty boxes behind it into the foot of the bed.
"Just wondering if you were up." Dad glanced around the room. "…Which you clearly are. He shifted his weight to another foot and I noticed what he was wearing; plain black jeans, DocMartins and a smart black shirt with a white silk tie. I sensed what he was going to say to me next.
I wasn't incorrect. "I'm going to Sootopolis - the city who's gym is now mine -" he added when I cocked my head at him, "so the house is yours. Hey," he snapped his fingers, "why don't you go and visit our neighbours?"
I blinked.
"You know? My friend, Professor Birch?"
"Oh, yeah."
"Well, he's the one who ear-marked this place for us; he's a good friend of mine."
"Right."
"He has a kid around your age. I think he might be a bit older, I'm not sure."
"Ok."
"Typical Teenager today, I see." He sighed.
I blinked again.
"Well, I told Birch you'd be coming round, so go when you're ready. I'll be back at around six. Your set of keys are in the kitchen and my new number is with them; don't forget to double-lock when you go out. And Jen?" He looked at me and I shifted, uncomfortable in the intensity of his gaze. "I am sorry, you know."
I was a little too stunned to answer.
"See you, Baby." He kissed the air in front of him, smiled and shut my bedroom door. A few seconds later I heard some keys rattle and the front door slam.
The silence was deafening. I was still reeling from his apology; Dad wasn't the openly sensitive type, especially not when other people's emotions were concerned, and he rarely said 'sorry' for anything. I sat down on my bed and stood up almost immediately, feeling too restless to sit. I had a whole day to myself ahead of me and I had no idea where to begin…
Well, a friend would be a good place to start. I left my room, and headed towards the kitchen counter where my keys were and thought I'd pocket Dad's number. I stared around the flat, impressed with all the work that Dad had done on it in the time I'd been asleep; all the boxes previously containing our things were now flattened on top of each other by the door, topped off by the pizza box from the dinner which I never ate the previous evening. Kicking them out of my way, I slipped out of the door and locked it, looking around the hallway for the next flat along. I spotted it on the opposing wall ten or so feet along and walked up to it. I took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the door. There was a pregnant pause and then a small, round woman with a friendly face answered the door.
"Can I help you, love?" she asked, kindly.
"Umm, hi. I'm Jennifer. James' daughter. We just moved in opposite…" I gestured vaguely behind me and blushed, foolishly. I wasn't good with new people.
"Oh, of course!" The woman snapped her fingers in a sign of remembrance and beamed at me. "I'm Maggie, Gordon's wife."
"Er…" I inwardly cursed my dad for neglecting to tell me first names.
"Professor Birch's wife, that is."
"Oh, sorry. Hi."
"Sorry, I'm so rude; why don't you come in?" Maggie - or Mrs. Birch - stepped aside so I could step inside. I smiled and wiped my shoes on the doormat that was welcoming me to their home before slipping over the threshold. The Birches' flat was far less chic than ours, with beige walls a, dirty carpet and the aroma of stale toast and coffee; it had the distinct feel of a family home. Papers and documents of some sort were on nearly every surface I could see, and the desk on the far side of the room was stacked nearly two feet high with them. Odd electronic devices were attached to a computer and bleeping quietly in the background. Well, Birch was a professor, wasn't he? And by the looks of his home, I made the conclusion that he was a slightly mad one.
"Would you like a cup of tea?" Mrs. Birch was at the kitchen counter, a kettle in one hand.
"Oh, no, thank you," I was distracted by the noise coming from behind a closed door at the back of the room. A child was yelling something and a Pokémon was barking. A second or so later, a deeper voice yelled something and the barking subsided to be replaced with scrabbling at the door.
"So, how old are you now, Jennifer?" Mrs. Birch sank into a squashy armchair with her own tea and gestured at the sofa for me to sit down.
"Sixteen." I answered, following her lead and sitting down. "I've just left school."
"You're just a little bit younger than our son!" Mrs. Birch looked thrilled. "He's just and turned seventeen and finished school. I'll call him out of his room - Brendan!" She yelled at the door where the scuffling was coming from. There was a short pause, a bark and the door slammed open.
"Poochyena! GO!"
A small black shape came flying out like a dart. It leapt over the back of the sofa, onto the coffee table and turned around to snarl at the stranger in the house - me. I yelped in shock and scooted backwards, scared to my wit's end. Although the Pokémon was very small, it's teeth looked very sharp.
"Sam, knock it off!" The deeper voice I'd heard earlier yelled at the smaller voice who whined. "Poochyena, come back here."
The Pokémon shot me one last furtive look before clambering off the coffee table and trotting off behind the sofa. I took this opportunity to turn around to meet-and-greet my saviour, who was an average height, stocky teenager.
"You must be Jennifer," said Brendan, and he held out his hand. I stood up and took it, still breathing deeply. His skin was rough to the touch. I studied his face. It was round like his mothers but his harsh green eyes contained a different nature to the yellowy brown of hers. His hair was platinum blonde, evidently dyed, and messy, kept vaguely in place by a black headband. I had the distinct impression that he was the only one who could pull off that style - and even then, only just.
"Yup, that's me," I answered, smiling nervously. Brendan caught the vibe.
"I don't bite, you know," he laughed, "but I can't say the same for my brat of a brother!" He spoke the last four words in a louder tone, which were followed by another wail from the bedroom at the back.
"Brendan, don't call your brother a brat," scolded Mrs. Birch, but she sounded weary as she went to tend to the screaming child. "Nice to meet you, Jennifer."
She retreated into the room and closed the door. A small pause echoed between Brendan and I while we both wondered what to say to each other.
"Well," said Brendan, evidently trying to refrain from awkward silences, "Nice here, isn't it? You like it?"
"Yeah, it's nice," I said, smiling. There was another short pause. I ran my hand through my hair.
"So, have you caught any new Pokémon in this area yet?" asked Brendan who looked hopeful, though for what reason I couldn't name.
And here was the booby trap I'd been dreading. "Umm…" I felt my cheeks rise in colour. "I… umm…"
"You aren't a trainer?!" Brendan looked incredulous but doubtful of his conclusion.
"Umm… no," I said, feebly.
"Seriously?!" Brendan seemed shocked. The look he was wearing might've been comical if it wasn't at my expense. I felt more than slightly pissed at his incredulity. Not everyone becomes a trainer at the age of ten! I simply hadn't been settled anywhere long enough to start…
Even in my head, the excuse sounded stupid.
At my silent answer to his exclamation, he continued, "Would you like me to go catch you a Pokémon?"
My opinion of him transformed in a millisecond. I was about to accept delightfully when-
"Ah, crap, I can't. I've got to go check on this Pokémon my dad's monitoring. Well, see you around, Jennifer." He grinned ruefully at me before grabbing a bright green backpack by the dining table and roaring out of the flat, leaving the door open behind him.
I could almost smell his arrogance tainting the room.
With possibly a hint of A.D.D.
Slightly thrown by the abrupt exit, I stood there for a moment, unsure what to do. I strained my ears towards the bedroom. The whining and crying had stopped and Mrs. Birch was just emerging from the door.
"Oh, are you off, dear?" she asked.
Unable to say anything else, I replied, "Yes."
I said goodbye to her and left the flat, unable to stop thinking about how Brendan had acted when I said I wasn't a trainer yet. The little confidence I'd retained all my life was deflated worse than a paper balloon but it was replaced with a helium one bursting with determination; Today would be the day that Jennifer Collins became a trainer!
I left the estate altogether, climbing down the four flights of stairs rather than taking the lift and stepped outside the heavy-set doors. I embraced the gentle summer breeze, but cursed when it whipped my hair across my face, leaving me unable to see anything but black. I pushed it back automatically with disdain; my hair was extremely annoying, but I couldn't do much about it; it was far too stubborn. I took a few seconds to return to focus and began to look around Littleroot Town properly, seeing as the day before I was too seasick to take in much. It was small, with only a few houses and a large research lab belonging to Professor Birch, and secluded, as there was only one route leading out of there to another town. I wouldn't have called it a town myself. More like a hamlet. Regardless, I set my eyes upon the research lab. It was absolutely massive; at least three stories high. I took a few steps towards it when a small group of children around the base of the route caught my eye. I altered my course and went to see what the fuss was about. As I got closer I heard faint yells and began to feel uneasy again.
"What's going on?" I asked a small girl nearest the route.
"Someone's yelling for help down there, but I can't go there without my Mummy or Daddy," the girl whimpered. The other children looked at me expectantly and my stomach turned over. Someone needed help down there. I was the oldest of all the kids and they all thought - or rather assumed - I was a trainer. As foolish as it was in a situation as serious as this, I was too embarrassed to admit that I wasn't.
I gritted my teeth strode off down the route. A few seconds later, I followed at a run when another cry hit my ears. I turned a corner to see a man in a white coat being chased around by a vicious looking black, hyena-type Pokémon. I recognized it as a Poochyena as I'd just been jumped by one not half an hour ago. This one, however, looked considerably more menacing than Brendan's one. It snapped at the man's ankles as he ran.
The man suddenly looked up, saw me and yelped, "Hello, there! P-please help! In my bag… there's two Poké balls! Get one and help me, p-please!"
I gulped. I'd never had a Pokémon battle where I had no idea what Pokémon I'd be using - as I didn't know the Hoenn Pokémon yet - and where the stakes were considerably higher than a fiver. I grabbed the satchel and rummaged frantically for the Poké balls, which were in a special-looking belt, and seized the one on the right.
I knew there was a proper way to throw the ball without disorientating the Pokémon inside, but in all the kafuffle, I couldn't remember it to save my life. Instead, I summoned all my strength and hurled the Poké ball straight at the ground. It landed upside down and sprang open, revealing a beam of white light which put spots in my eyes. When the light abated, a small orange bird Pokémon was perched on it's head, looking thoroughly confused and irritated. It quickly righted itself with some waving of it's one leg and shook it's head, chirping irritably and looking around for the fool who released it so poorly. I gazed at it in wonder - I'd never seen a Pokémon like this before! It was gorgeous!
The snarling of the Poochyena bought me out of my infatuation with a snap; it had spotted the orange chick and it's hackles were raised to the sky.
"It's a Torchic!" yelled the panicked Professor, now shielding himself behind a tree.
I stared at him blankly.
"TELL IT TO SCRATCH!!" he shrieked as the Poochyena ran at full pelt towards the Torchic looking enraged.
Starting to panic a little, I called out to the Pokémon. "Torchic! Er, Scratch!"
The Torchic leapt with a chirp at the Poochyena and dug a long scratch along the Poochyena's back. It howled in pain and retaliated with a full bodily charge at Torchic who buckled for a moment but sprang back up again, now looking seriously pissed off.
"Try and get it from behind to confuse it!" I called feebly, not expecting much but Torchic was surprising compliant; it ran round and round the Poochyena and I watched - fascinated - as it began to get dizzy. A second later, Torchic's leg slashed through the air and swiped the Poochyena across the face. It gave one more feeble whimper and scampered off into the bushes with it's tail between it's legs.
I breathed out long and hard, the adrenaline still pumping through me as Professor Birch poked his head out from behind the tree and walked over, wiping his sweaty forehead.
"Phew. Thank you very much for that," he sighed, a little more out of breath than me. I was about to answer him when the Torchic hopped over to me chirruping happily and jumped straight into my arms. Startled, I stood stock-still for a second of two, before grinning and stroking the fluffy down on the top of the chick's head. It cocked it's head, cooing softly, and buried it's face in the crook of my elbow.
"Looks like someone likes you," laughed the Professor and then observed my face carefully, in the way one does when they feel a sensation of dejá vu, and said slowly, "You look like someone I know…"
"You must be Professor Birch them." I shifted Torchic into one arm and held out my hand. "I'm Jennifer. James' daughter."
"Oh!" exclaimed Birch, taking my hand in both of his and shaking it in a very friendly manor. "Glad to meet you! Though the setting could've been a little less…" He jiggled his head slightly, eyes to the skies looking for a suitable word to use. "…Exciting." he settled for.
"Naturally." I laughed, scratching the fire Pokémon absent mindedly under it's beak. It lay down in my arm and purred softly. Birch eyed this carefully and clicked his fingers in the air.
"I have the perfect way to thank you for helping me out there!" He pointed his index finger at Torchic while looking me as near as in my eye as I would allow. "I think you should have that Torchic you're holding."
I felt my jaw drop and hang precariously in mid air. "Really?!" I exclaimed.
"Of course! It's the least I can do," Birch waved off my shock with a wave of his hand and my heart leapt for joy. I looked down at the little orange bundle of down in my arm and felt a huge smile creeping over my face that I couldn't have controlled if I wanted to. The chick turned over to look at me with it's big brown eyes and chirped. I swear it was so cute I could've eaten it! A second later, a thought struck me and I turned back to Birch.
"Umm, how can I tell what gender…" I started but he cut across me.
"This one's female. You can tell by their levels of affection towards the trainer. The more affectionate ones tend to be female," he answered with the knowing-air of a stereotypical professor. I smiled.
"I take it you've met my Brendan?" he asked and I nodded. "Well, he's just beyond Odale Town. Maybe you should go and meet him? Show him you're new 'acquirement'! He'd like that."
Thinking solely of the look on Brendan's face when I showed him my Torchic, I answered brightly, "Sound's like a great idea!"
"Fabulous! And - oh, in that case…" He jogged over to fetch his satchel and jogged back, rummaging in inside it for something. I waited patiently, stroking Torchic, while he mumbled to himself and confirmed my suspicions that he was barking.
"This is a Pokédex," said Birch, triumphantly holding a small red gadget in the shape of a thin rectangular box out in front of him. I leant forwards to take a closer look to see it was very shiny and looked brand new. "It holds data about all the Pokémon you meet or catch." Intrigued, I was taken aback when he took my free hand and bought his own holding the Pokédex down to put it into my palm.
"You're… you're giving me this?" I simply gaped at him when he nodded.
"Of course!" he beamed at my expression, "How can a trainer get on without one?"
He called me a trainer…
I decided I liked Birch very much. Very much indeed.
"But… but it's brand new!"
"Sweetheart, I have about twenty of these back at the lab which I haven't even opened yet." He smiled. "I can afford to give up a new one."
Thanking him endlessly, we said our good-byes and he set off back down the route towards Littleroot, his satchel on his shoulder, still open. I grinned fondly after him before something caught my eye. The Poké ball that I'd thrown not twenty minutes ago was lying open on the grass. I bent to pick it up. It was light as a feather and smooth as silk. It felt very comfortable in my palm, like it belonged there.
"I think I need to go pack my bag, Baby," I spoke to the now sleeping Pokémon in my arms. "I don't think I'll be going home for a while…"
It took me half an hour to pack a backpack full of clothes - carefully analysed and only the best of my wardrobe made the bag - and other necessities that I would need to get by on. My new Torchic spent that time hopping around the flat enjoying herself by inspecting various oddities, like the television and the wastepaper basket. I had watched her, feeling more and more happy by the second as she chirped and flapped her miniscule wings. The only thing that I remembered doing apart from packing and watching Torchic being lovely was leaving a small note for Dad packed full of information:
Going travelling. I'll call you when I get somewhere with a phone. J x
I reminisced the past hour gleefully as I made my steady way down route 101, Torchic hopping gamely along by my ankles. I was still a bit of a stranger to her - and Pokémon in general - so I decided to keep her outside her ball at first so we could get to know each other a bit. It was a lame attempt really, as we both seemed too busy with our thoughts to pay much attention to each other, but a relationship was slowly moulding between us and it made me so happy. I couldn't remember being this happy since I was about six. Then, thinking of Kanto, and my mood dropped sadly like a leaf in autumn.
All of a sudden, a Pokémon sprang out of the grass and landed on my foot. I screamed in shock and promptly lost balance, falling hard on my end. Although the fall was cushioned by my bag, I was still distinctly disorientated.
"Crap!" The Pokémon - which looked somewhat like a red Caterpie - slid off my shoe and raised it's tail, which had a pitchfork-shaped sting at the end. Remembering that I was a trainer, I turned to my own Pokémon, who was hovering uncertainly beside me.
"Torchic?" she chirruped at me in a question and nodded.
"Umm, what I meant was; Torchic! Scratch!" I corrected myself, flustered, as Torchic sprang forwards and delivered a blow to red Caterpie thing. A second later, I remembered the Pokédex Birch had given me and I fished it out of my skirt pocket. When I'd retrieved the little red device, Torchic was covered in a white sticky secretion and looking thoroughly put out about it. I grimaced while thinking in disgust, What the HELL is that…?
Glancing at the Pokédex for much needed help, I read on the small screen; 'Wurmple. Bug-type Pokémon. As a defence to predators, this worm-like Pokémon shoots a string shot out of it's end to lower the speed of it's predators so it has time to get away.'
"Wurmple, eh?" I said aloud and looked up to see the Pokédex was correct; the Wurmple had crawled off into the trees while Torchic pecked viciously at the web-like net that has encased her. I couldn't help but laugh at her frustration and pottered over to tear apart the wet strings. Grumbling, she stalked on ahead of me but I was too giddy to be overly concerned and followed her at a distance until I was forgiven. It took about thirty second for her to stop and wait for me to catch up, pecking fondly at my ankles once we were in step together.
About fifteen to twenty minutes past - which included several more Wurmple encounters and one other Pokémon called Zigzagoon - when the sounds of a civilisation hit my ears. Torchic seemed to have heard it too, for she pecked my ankle a little harder and chirped a little louder. I picked her up and she scrabbled onto my shoulder, squatting there and snapping her head around to take in the scenery. Feeling comforted at the weight on my shoulder, I spotted a sign pegged into the ground where the pathway turned to pavement and walked to a distance where I could read it. It said 'Odale Town' in big red letters with a small arrow underneath pointing in the opposite direction with 'Littleroot Town' emblazoned in much smaller letters.
"We made it, Baby." I chucked the chick under the chin and she cooed sweetly. "Come on; let's get you to a Pokémon centre."
I began to walk towards the centre of the town - well, at least where I thought was the centre of the town would be - looking around at the town I was now it. This was definitely more of a town than Littleroot; it was bigger, there were more roads, more houses, more cars and more shops. As I entered the main body of the town, I spotted a Pokémart which seemed to be having some sort of promotional event, as a reasonably large crowd of people - I would estimate at about twenty-or-so - were crowding around the entrance.
"Are you in dire need of medical attention?" I addressed my enquiry to my Pokémon. Torchic shot me a… there was no other word for it; a sceptical look. I blinked for a second and burst out laughing. I felt tears pricking my eyes as she chirped irritably and pecked the side of my head. Cowed by the sharp pain above my left ear, my amusement subsided into snickering and I sauntered over to the crowd.
It was at this moment when I rediscovered one of the few advantages of being five foot three; I could cut my way through a large crowd without too much hassle. I slipped between the other people there, trying not to bash anyone with my backpack or Torchic, and found myself, a few seconds later, at the front. A store clerk was standing behind a row tables pushed together covered in white cloth displaying a huge range of items. A small sign at one end read 'Devon Corporation's New Line of Trainer Necessities'. There were rows of small bottles with different coloured liquids inside each, and jar after jar of various powders. A line of Poké balls were further along, but they weren't the standard red-and-white ones that I knew so well; there were other colours and patterns which I'd never seen before.
I would've gone up to the clerk and enquired about what their functions were when a small intake of breath from the crowd caused me to turn around. A small ripple had passed through the air as the people at the front stepped back a bit from one person.
A tall, slim male - six foot or so - stood in the centre of the diverted attention. He had grey hair which stuck up in various places on his head, like he'd just got out of bed, and he had a thin face with a handsome shape. Dirt was smudged across one of his cheeks and it made him look rather cute. He was wearing a black suit with purple zigzags down either side of the jacket and, underneath, a white shirt with a red neck scarf tied neatly at the front. His arms were folded across his chest, thick silver rings on each of his fingers which were slightly muddy, and he looked uncomfortable to be the centre of attention. Although I had never seen this highly attractive young man before in my entire existence, I instantly recognised the rare sighting of someone who was famous and didn't like it. Most celebrities - cough, Lance, cough - were too up themselves to pay much heed to the attention they were receiving and simply took it in their stride… This guy just looked like he wanted to run away. I felt like patting him on the back.
However, what had held my attention to this man were his eyes. They were a piercing shade of grey, perfectly shaped as though sculpted by an artist of the finest kind. They swivelled along the Mart's table, to the gawping faces in the crowd, to his shoes, to me…
Torchic pecked my ear. I blinked and nearly buckled as I realized what I'd been doing.
SHIT! My cheeks burned and my eyes dropped to the floor, lamely pretending to be inspecting my converses for muddy marks, of which there were plenty. Unable to resist, I gave up and glanced sideways back at him. Those eyes had not looked away. His head was inclined slightly and a curious expression was on his face; he looked intrigued.
Another sharp dig in my temple caused me to start violently.
"Tor!" My Pokémon fell off my shoulder with a cry and landed on my foot, which she began pecking in quick succession, clearly hugely pissed off at being ignored for so long - and dropped, to boot!
"OK, we're going now." I mumbled quickly and I snatched her up from the ground, turning my head back to the left. The grey-eyed guy had gone, replaced by swarm of whispers and every person in the crowd gossiping animatedly with each other. I slipped back through the people away from the promotion, unable to catch audible words from the buzz being emitted from their mouths, before Torchic and I immerged from the other side of them. I stretched my legs idly, yanking my backpack further up my back. Torchic was now on the ground, hopping around me, chirping, "Torchic, Torchic, Torchic, tor!" in a rhythmic sort of way.
"You're a cheeky little bugger, aren't you?!" I folded my arms, ignoring the delighted tweeting from my Pokémon. She simply continued to hop around, looking cheerfully up at anyone who looked at her.
Taking one more second to think about the mysterious handsome stranger I'd briefly encountered, I carried on walking.
"Gotcha!"
I yanked my fist out of the ground, a small green stone clutched in my fist. I bought it up to my eyes and brushed off the soil from it's surface; it was a translucent jade, with jagged edges which were slightly earth worn. It wasn't perfect but, to me, it was beautiful. I'd been looking for it long enough that even if it was mangled and tacky, it would've been a diamond to me. I straightened up, wincing as I'd been crouched for so long, and dropped the Leaf stone in the inside pocket of my jacket. I brushed the dirt off my hands and surveyed the small hole I'd excavated. Too tired to bend down again, I used the edge of my shoe nudge the soil I'd dug up into the hole, filling it up once more. Checking the ground quickly to see if I'd left anything behind, I flexed my fingers and began the steady walk back out of the forest towards Odale Town.
I rubbed my eyes feebly with the back of one hand. I'd slept worse than usual for the past three nights and I'd stopped feeling hungry. My dad had needed much more help recently with Devon, what with the latest range of products hitting the stores this week, and Jacobs had been pestering me with a different part of Devon's productions - the private order my dad had taken from the Slateport Shipyard. I hadn't been able to look Jacobs in the face ever since that emergency meeting months ago, when he'd tried to act the understanding adult. I cringed at the memory of that awkward, awkward minute. Ironically enough, and I sighed as I thought it, nothing much had changed since then, apart from Jacobs' advice being correct for once; I'd had a hell of a lot to think about apart from that, and the forgetting did help immensely.
Light hit me like a slap in the face and I had to close my eyes for a moment. Once I'd adjusted, I realised that it wasn't even that bright; the sun was about an hour or so from setting and obscured by relatively heavy cloud. The town appeared, from this angle, a little more quiet than usual and I wondered what day it was that could result in this lack of activity. And then it hit me; Devon's Hoenn-wide promotion day.
Well, no harm in checking out how it's going, I thought to myself and I began to walk towards the Pokémart.
About two minutes later, the noise activity picked up and I rounded a corner to see a group of people gathered around the Mart. Satisfied on outside appearances, I made my way over to the place myself to see what was on display. When I was about ten feet away, the people at the back of the crowd noticed me. I watched, internal disdain licking my insides, as their faces showed open amazement and their arms began nudging their neighbours, never taking their eyes off their prey. Sighing, I continued to walk forwards, taking advantage of the splitting in the crowd to make an easier pathway towards the front. Once the people had parted like the red sea for me, I folded my arms and scanned the table the store clerk had placed out front; all the items on the list were on display in a very tasteful pattern. I ran my eyes along the table trying to ignore the feeling of eyes on the back of my head, but I couldn't ignore the whispers anymore. I glanced at the people on either side of me, now whispering shamelessly to anyone who would listen, but stopped my surveillance when one person who wasn't whispering or gawking caught my eye.
A girl with a Torchic on her shoulder was looking at me out of the corner of her eye. She had long black hair that came well past her shoulders and dark blue eyes which glittered in the light of the aging sun. She was extremely pale, quite short and very thin, wearing a baggy green t-shirt, a denim skirt and black leggings ending in black converses. She had a backpack on her back which told me she was a trainer intending to be serious - and if not intending, going to be. She was extremely attractive to say the least…
A second of eye contact passed before the Torchic pecked her ear and she jumped, looking firmly down at her shuffling feet. I cocked my head to one side and continued to watch her. Another second of observation told me that she was a trainer brand new to the trade. Further still, it told me that she was new not only to Pokémon, but to Hoenn itself.
The crowd began to rustle and I distinctly heard one woman say to her friend, "Oh, I don't believe it! I haven't got a single pen on me! Do you think he'd sign my diary in lipstick?"
Enough was enough. With one last look at the girl and her cheeky Torchic, I turned heel and walked straight out of the crowd. Once I was free of the eye of the public, I made my steady way towards route 103, thinking vaguely about silence and Fire stones.
Amongst other, less desirable things.