"Harper! Come help me with dinner!"
The girl in question abandoned her summer work in a heartbeat and practically skipped down the stairs to chop vegetables with her Eevee, Cyrah, close at her heels. Summer was upon Harper Drake, and the fourteen year-old wanted nothing to do with homework. She thought of the three months of freedom ahead of her—three months of training, of romping through Viridian Forest with Cyrah and her Butterfree, Kite. Well, that's what she had thought when it began. The reality of her summer was not so ideal, thanks to her mother's sentence—grounded for letting Kite out in the house.
"What do you need?" she asked eagerly, rolling up her sleeves.
"Chop," her mother said, handing her a pair of red bell peppers. Harper reached over her mother's shoulder for a knife and got to work, Cyrah sitting with her head on her feet. Harper's mother was a tall, poised woman with dark hair and intense blue eyes. Harper hadn't inherited her mother's height, poise, hair, or eyes—those she gave to Harper's sister, Joanna. She did, however, inherit her mother's stubborn streak and sharp tongue, which made for quite a few full blown arguments and even more spats.
"Harper, get Cyrah out of the kitchen. You know she's not supposed to be here." Harper rolled her eyes and glared at her mother.
"What do you think she's going to do? It's not like she's wild."
"I let her in the house. That should be enough."
"If I kick Cyrah out of the kitchen, can I let Kite in?" Harper knew she was picking a fight, but she said it anyway, arching her eyebrows challengingly.
"Harper Anne, I'm not going to go through this with you again." She sounded more tired than anything else, but Harper felt the familiar rise of anger at her mother's stubborn insistence.
"I think you should. I've never gotten a legitimate explanation," Haper said, chopping her peppers with greater ferocity.
"I've told you before—bug Pokémon carry diseases. And who knows where that Eevee of yours has been."
"Bug Pokémon do not carry diseases! And Cyrah spends all her time with me!"
"I've seen you battle those things! That bug uses that powder thing—you mean to tell me that it doesn't carry diseases?"
"Mom, 'that powder thing' is a Sleep Powder attack. And she won't use it on you. And you still haven't said why Cyrah can't be in the kitchen. If you're worried about where she's been, you should probably kick me out of the kitchen, too."
"You shower every day. I can't say the same for Cyrah."
"God, Mom! This is so stupid! Why do you hate them so much?"
"I don't hate them. They just don't belong in my kitchen."
"You let Fia in the kitchen," Harper said, naming her father's Ninetales.
"Only when your father is here. Harper, this is ridiculous. I am your mother—get Cyrah out of the kitchen—now."
The sound of the front door opening announced the presence of Harper's little sister, Joanna. Harper opened her mouth to respond, but her mother's glare silenced her, and the teenager merely glared back, the knife gripped between her fingers, the peppers still only half chopped.
"Hey, Mom, where are the cookies?" Joanna asked, looking at the empty plate on the counter.
"There were two left earlier," the girls' mother said, squinting at the plate. Harper glanced at Cyrah, who was now sitting just through the archway in the living room, crumbs covering her face. Harper's mother followed her daughter's gaze to guilty Eevee, anger building in her expression.
"THAT'S why Pokémon don't belong in the kitchen! Now get out of here, I have dinner to make!" Harper bit her lip and looked back, fleeing from the room with Cyrah just behind. When she opened the front door, her mother called out to her.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Out!" Harper called before shutting the door behind her and running toward the park a few blocks away.
As soon as she stepped foot onto the grassy area in front of the playground, Harper let Kite out of his pokéball. The Butterfree shook out his wings experimentally and then gave a Harper a sad look.
"I know, Kite. I'm sorry you had to be in there all day." Harper watched as Kite weaved through the sky, stretching his wings. Cyrah glanced at her questioningly, and Harper smiled.
"Go! Run! Have fun!" Cyrah smiled jubilantly and after a final scratch behind the ear, she took off through the grass, her tiny form chasing the Butterfree from the ground. Harper sat on the bench in front of them for awhile, content to watch their wild dance. Harper felt sorry for aggravating her mother. They were all on edge—Harper's father had been gone for two weeks on business. And while it wasn't terribly unusual for him to be gone this long, they hadn't heard from him for a couple of days, which, again, wasn't terribly unusual. But extended business trips usually meant that their father was going to come home stressed exhausted.
"We're lost," someone said behind her. "Great." The voice belonged to a dark haired boy around her own age, a Wartortle at his side.
"No we're not. We just need to find an intersection. I'll get us there," a second voice shot back as he turned in a circle, his Charmeleon copying his motions almost exactly. They looked very lost.
"What we need are directions," the first boy grumbled, and his Pokémon nodded in disgruntled agreement.
"We are men, we don't ask for directions!" Harper snorted as the trainer struck a gallant pose, his hands on his hips and his face angled skyward. He needed directions, and he knew it. His friend raised his eyebrows, and the boy sighed, looking defeated. "Okay, maybe we need directions."
"Thank you," the other boy breathed, rolling his eyes.
"Oi!" the Charmeleon's trainer called, and Harper turned to see him waving in her direction. "Do you know how to get to the Pokémon Center from here?" His friend looked at him incredulously.
"You can't just scream 'oi!' at people and expect them to respond well!" the other boy hissed to his friend.
"Yeah, I know how to get there," Harper called back grudgingly. The boy smiled, and he tossed his bright red hair.
"Think you could show us?" Harper rolled her eyes, but she nodded anyway. She didn't really have much to do anyway.
"This way," she said, motioning to her right. "Cyrah! Kite! Come on!" she called to her Pokémon. The two of them returned quickly, looking warily at the Wartortle and Charmeleon. The Wartortle smiled and waved, while the Charmeleon flexed his muscles and blew smoke. Cyrah dismissed him immediately, but greeted the water Pokémon warmly. Kite was more difficult to read—he regarded each with equal reserve and flew close to his trainer's shoulder.
"My name's Kieran," the charming tall redhead said, shooting Harper another one of his big smiles. "But people call me Red."
"I'm Harper," the girl replied.
"And I'm Jay," the shorter, dark-haired trainer said, holding out his hand for a handshake. Harper took it awkwardly, not accustomed to shaking hands upon meeting people her own age.
"People call him Blue," Kieran said, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially in Harper's ear. "Because he's so gloomy, you see."
"People do not call me Blue. You call me Blue."
"That's not true! My sister calls you Blue too!"
"She's four! And she only calls me that because you threatened to take away her Pachirisu doll if she didn't!"
"Well, that may be true," Red conceded. "Anyway, this is Blaze." The Charmeleon in question flamed a little bit and grinned. "And Mr. Sourpuss's Wartortle is Fintan. We're off to earn enough badges to challenge the Pokémon League. Well, I am at least. Mr. Sourpuss here probably won't make it."
"I liked Blue better," Jay mumbled, but Red ignored him. Harper introduced her own Pokémon and took a left, spotting the Pokémon Center at the end of the road. Red glanced up at Kite, and then down at Cyrah.
"So, you're a trainer?"
"I, uh, I guess so," Harper said, startled by the question.
"You guess so? What does that mean?" the red-head asked, an amused smile creeping onto his face.
"Well, I've had Cyrah since I was ten, and I caught Kite about six months later, and I got a badge a couple years ago, but I never really considered myself a trainer."
"Well, that's silly. Your Pokémon look great, and they are obviously very attached to you. So you've beaten the mysterious gym leader in this town?"
"Not so much. I spent a week or so in Pewter a few summers back, and I decided to battle Brock," Harper replied. The truth was that she had run away from home with plans of earning a lot more than one gym badge. Her father had found her and quite literally dragged her back to their house in the suburbs of Viridian.
"Ah. So no intel on this guy? We were going to challenge him."
"Nope. Sorry. Anyway, he's not in town—hardly ever is." The boys looked at each other with obvious disappointment. "Have you battled Brock yet? I mean, my knowledge is old, but I might still be of some help."
"I have. Blue hasn't yet. I beat him a couple of months ago—snuck away from a field trip to the museum," Red said, grinning with the memory. Harper could see the familiar gleam of victory in his eye that she recognized in all of the trainers that passed through Viridian. In part, it was a feeling that she recognized from her own experiences in the Pewter City Gym. It made her heart ache that she would never have the opportunity to do what he was about to—travel with his Pokémon and chase impossible dreams. Eventually, Harper stopped when they arrived in front of the Pokémon Center.
"We're here."
"So we are. Thanks for showing us the way—you're a real life saver!"
"Don't mention it," Harper replied, waving to the boys. After they disappeared beyond the automatic doors, she glanced at her watch. Mom was going to kill her.
The sight that greeted Harper when she made it back to her house was not what she was expecting. There were two cars in their driveway—one was the green sedan that belonged to her father, and the other was a jet black sports car that she didn't recognize. The fact that her father's Ninetales, Fia, was sitting tensely by the bushes did nothing to quell her uneasiness. Her pose was stiff and her red eyes were trained on the front door. Cyrah and Kite picked up on their trainer's apprehension, and followed her closely as she made her way towards the front door. She tried to peer through the window into the dining room to see who else was there, but the curtains were drawn. By the time she was standing in front of the red front door, Harper's heart was pounding in her chest, Cyrah had leapt into her arms and Kite was clinging to her shoulder.
Harper took a deep breath and opened the door tentatively, leaving Kite out of her Pokéball until she knew what was going on. There were two extra people at her dining room table—one a woman in her late twenties with jet black hair and the other a man of around the same age with white-blonde hair and icy blue eyes. Harper's mother, father, and sister occupied three of the remaining four chairs. As Harper opened the door, all five sets of eyes turned to look at her.
"Hello, you must be Harper," the man said, his mouth turning up into a chilling smile. Harper nodded nervously but remained silent, finally pulling out Kite's Pokéball and calling her back. "You're mother was just saying how you had gone for a walk with your Pokémon." Harper nodded again and sat next to her sister at the table. Cyrah lay at her feet and Joanna squeezed her hand under the table. Their father picked up his fork and began to eat again, and Harper and Joanna followed suit. Their mother didn't touch her food.
"Well, now that the whole gang is here, allow us to introduce ourselves," the man said. "I'm Lyall, and this is my partner, Letha. We're friends of your parents' from work." Harper's eyes flashed to her father's face for a split second, trying to read his expression. Clearly they weren't the kind of friends he wanted in his home or around his family, but the teenager was having difficulty discerning anything else. Harper was searching for any hint of fear in his eyes, but his expression was as stony as ever.
"We just stopped by for a visit. It's so difficult to find time for a home cooked meal in our line of work," he continued, flashing Harper and Joanna a smile that revealed sparkling white teeth that matched the rest of his pale person.
"Lyall. We don't want to bore anyone with business talk, do we?" Letha said, looking sharply in his direction. He rolled his eyes, and took a few more bites of the chicken Harper's mother had prepared earlier that day. Nobody else was eating anymore. The tense pseudo dinner continued for another five minutes, and for that time, the sounds of Lyall's chewing seemed almost painfully loud, and his fork clanged like thunder against his ceramic plate. To Harper, it seemed to be hours before Lyall finally put his fork down and smacked his lips in satisfaction
"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I am thoroughly impressed by this lovely meal. There wouldn't happen to be a dessert waiting in the wings, would there?" Lyall said, his tone sickly sweet.
"If you give me a few minutes, I'm sure I could find something," Harper's mother said, her friendly tone belying the ice in her eyes.
"That would be lovely, thank you ever so much." Anger began to mingle with fear in Harper's chest. Why wasn't her father doing anything? Who were these people? What did they want?
"Harper, Joanna, come help me in the kitchen," the girls' mother said, rising gracefully from the table. Joanna nearly fell as she tried to get to the kitchen as quickly as possible, visibly shaking as she got up. Harper tried to compose herself as she followed her sister, but she wasn't sure that she was entirely successful. She was sure she could feel those blue eyes on her back as she left the dining room. Cyrah had returned to her arms, the little Pokémon shaking along with her trainer.
Harper took sighed in relief she entered the kitchen and her mother had closed the door. In their airy kitchen, a weight was pulled off her shoulders, and she finally felt as though she could breathe freely. Joanna was practically cowering in the kitchen, looking suddenly much younger than her twelve years. Their mother was suddenly moving about the kitchen quickly and silently, pulling out boxes of food, a flashlight, a backpack, and other items that made it look like she was preparing for a camping trip rather than a dessert.
"Mom, what's going on? Who are these people?" Harper asked softly, glancing at the closed door.
"Harper, I can't explain right now. But these people work with your father and I, and they mean to do us harm."
"But you're accountants," Harper said, trying to process what her mother was saying.
"No, we're not. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Harper, I need you to stay calm for your sister, can you do that?" Suddenly, Harper was more afraid than ever, but she nodded anyway, taking deep breaths. "Good. You and your sister need to go to stay with your aunt Lisa in Pewter City. Your father and I are going to have to go with Lyall and Letha. Take this—" she said, handing her the backpack she had been filling and helping her put it on her back. "There is some money in there, enough for you to get by for a few days."
"Mom—"
"Harper, please. I need you to run away from here, do you hear me? Go through the forest, not along the road. Cyrah and Kite will help you, okay? Take care of your sister." Joanna suddenly leapt at their mother, throwing her skinny arms around her neck.
"Mom, don't go," she said. Harper bit her lip as a tear escaped her mother's eye, falling slowly down her cheek. Harper had never seen her mother cry before.
"I'm so sorry, sweetie. I have to. Be good for Harper and Aunt Lisa, okay?" she said, prying Joanna's arms from around her neck.
"I love you, Mom," Joanna said, looking up into her mother's nearly identical deep blue eyes.
"I love you, too, Joanna."
"Tell Daddy I love him."
"I will."
"Mom—" Harper began, but she didn't get to finish.
"How is that dessert coming?" Lyall called from the dining room.
"Very well, thank you," Harper's mother called back, and began to push Harper out the back door.
"Don't come back here. Aunt Lisa will understand—she'll take good care of you. Now go." Her mother shut the door in her face, leaving Harper outside with her sister and Pokémon.
"We have to go, Harp," her little sister said, and Harper nodded absently, her mind still attempting to process what had just happened. The two of them set off for Viridian Forest as fast as their feet could take them, with Cyrah sprinting ahead of them and Kite trailing behind. Later, questions flooded Harper's mind. What did her parents really do? Where did they go? Would she ever see them again? Right then, however, as she stumbled through the balmy summer night, all Harper could think was that she never really got to say goodbye.
