Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon.
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Squish
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"Come on, Spring! Now is not the time to smell the flowers! We're needed back at the Lab, remember?"
I sighed in exasperation as my Chikorita just ignored me, continuing to bounce around and sniff delicately at every flower he passed.
Rolling my eyes and muttering under my breath, I stormed on ahead, deciding that my distracted pokemon would catch up when he wanted to. I was going on without him.
I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, resulting in my crashing into a familiar someone just outside Cherrygrove.
I leapt to my feet, masking my embarrassment behind anger. "Hey, watch it, you—hey!" I narrowed my eyes at the redhead. "You're that insolent boy who shoved me away earlier! What were you doing, anyway, creeping by the Lab? You can arouse suspicion that way, y'know."
The boy didn't reply, just stared down at me with eyes not only the color of steel, but as cold as it, too. His gaze momentarily flitted down to my side, where I knew Spring had just returned to.
"You got a pokemon from the Lab," he stated. It wasn't a question, but an observation. I stepped in front of my Chikorita protectively.
"Yeah, I did. What's it to you?"
He snorted in contempt, "What a waste." I felt a growl rising from the back of my throat. "That's a pokemon that's too good for a wimp like you."
"You don't know what you're saying, Creep, but you'll stop now if you don't want a world of pain," I snarled.
He wasn't fazed. "Don't you get what I'm saying?"
I clenched a fist. "That you're asking for a headache?"
The boy shook his head, smirking. "Well, I too have a good pokemon. I'll show you what I mean."
"You can try," I muttered as he released a Cyndaquil.
I noted the type disadvantage, but sent Spring forward with confidence. As soft as my Chikorita was, he was a fighter. This would be no problem. I grinned somewhat sinisterly at my opponent; I could have sworn a flicker of doubt passed over his expression, but it was gone in an instant.
"You want to battle, Redhead?" I snickered. "We'll battle."
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xxxxxP0KÉDUCKxxxxx
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Mumbling curses under his breath, the black-clad boy recalled his defeated Cyndaquil. I quietly congratulated Spring, and he chirped happily at me in return. As my Chikorita flounced away to inspect another flower patch, I crossed my arms and turned back to the boy.
"So," I demanded, "Who are you, anyway?"
The redhead seemed amused by this. "You want to know who I am?" I raised an eyebrow, but he cut off my impending retort. "I'm going to be the world's greatest pokemon trainer."
"That's no answer, you—HEY!" I stumbled and regained my balance as he shoved me aside, strolling on by me as if I weren't worth dirt. I glared at his back, sticking my tongue out at him as he left. However, I was distracted by something lying in the grass at my feet…
I bent down and retrieved it. It seemed to be the back of a trainer card…It was fairly blank save an illegible signature scribbled across the bottom. I was about to flip it over when it was snatched from my hands.
"Give it back! That's my trainer card!" the redhead snarled. I just glared back in defiance, smoldering silently. Why was this guy such a jerk? As he pocketed the I.D., I caught a fleeting glimpse of the name plate on it as it glinted in the sunlight: it began with the letter S, and looked to be approximately six letters.
The boy caught my glance, and a mixture of horror and realization crossed his features. "Oh no! You saw my name!" With that, he backed away, turned, and ran off.
I blinked after him in confusion before calling Spring back over. As we headed back onto Route 29, I murmured, "I didn't even see his name…did you see it, Spring?" I asked, looking down at my Chikorita. It was a rhetorical question, but unexpectedly the small green pokemon nodded cheerfully. I gave him a skeptical glance in return. How on earth…?
"Chika, chika!" he chirped.
I sighed. "I wish I could understand what you're saying half the time…no matter. Let's just make it back to New Bark, 'kay?"
"Chika!" Spring cried in agreement, picking up the pace and bounding through the tall grass.
I picked my way after him, smiling. At the rate things were going, not even grumpy redheads or disasters at the Lab could spoil this day now.
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xxxxxP0KÉDUCKxxxxx
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"Who are you?"
I turned, surprised to be addressed by the policeman. Why was there a cop here? What had happened, exactly?
"My name is Lyra, sir…"
"We are investigating the case of the missing pokemon here," the cop explained, examining his notepad. "Rule number one! 'Whoever did it will come back to the site.'" I frowned slightly. My guess was that the cop's reasoning was seriously flawed. Putting two and two together, I'd already figured that the chances of that redhead being the culprit were pretty high. And I was fairly certain that Grumpyface wasn't planning on revisiting New Bark anytime soon. He had what he'd come for, and he wasn't likely to risk returning.
Meanwhile, the cop had turned his sharp gaze on me in mild shock. "Oh my… So you must be…the one who did it?"
I jumped, opening my mouth only to have no words come out. Surely Elm had told the policeman that it was the Cyndaquil that had been stolen…? Then again, knowing Elm, he'd forgotten. And here Spring was, at my heels…
Oh, man. This looked bad.
The cop was reaching for his belt—for what, I don't know. Handcuffs? A radio? A weapon? I would never find out, for at that moment, Ethan, whom I hadn't seen hovering at the door before, rushed to my defense.
"Hold on a second!" he cried out, skidding to a halt before the officer. "She had nothing to do with it!" The cop raised an eyebrow but allowed him to continue. "I saw it," the dark-haired teen insisted. "There was a red-haired boy looking into the building!"
I nodded sulkily. "I ran into him just outside of Cherrygrove. His Cyndaquil was pounded by Spring here. And for some reason, he was considerably upset when I saw his trainer card…" If he's running from the law, that would explain why, I thought to myself.
The cop looked slightly puzzled. He glanced uncertainly back and forth between Ethan and I. "What? You battled a boy like that?" he asked me, whipping out a notepad and lowering his pen to it. I nodded. "He must be the one who did it…" The cop began scribbling notes furiously. "Did you happen to get his name?"
"…How would I have? It's not as if he'd be flaunting it around when he's on the run from the police!" I protested, hastily trying to cover my slip earlier. As long as the man didn't hear about the trainer card…
The cop paused, giving me a bewildered look. "But…didn't you say you saw his trainer card?" Dangit! Why do people have to assume so much? I bit my lip apprehensively, but boldly decided to go for a more sarcastic approach.
Forcing myself to keep a straight face, I deadpanned, "His name was Squish." Ethan shot me a weird look, but said nothing. Well, what can I say? It started with S, and had six letters… And besides, there was no way the man would take me seriously…
"I see! So Squish was his name," the cop exclaimed, nodding excitedly as he jotted it down. I just stared, dumbfounded, my mouth hanging open. "Thanks for helping my investigation! My next assignment is to search for this red-haired individual!"
And just like that, the cop was out the door, off on his new assignment. For a moment I silently stared after him, picturing 'Squish' in my head. For reasons unknown to even me, there was a ghost of a smile on my face as I thought, You'll never catch him.
Somehow, I know; you'll never catch him.