Author's Note: "Pikki" is pronounced like "pika," just with more mouthfuls of k. The origin of her name was a forum handle in-joke from eons past, so when I made yet another OC around the same time, I named her after that, mainly to amuse myself. Here, it's derived from Pirika, once a common girl's name in Shin'ai.
To learn more about the Shin'ai, please visit my Dreamwidth, linked in my profile.
On his way to Canalave City, Riley and his salamence make a stopover. Partly for a rest, and partly because Riley has a hunch as he flies over Almia. The small region attached to Sinnoh's main island is one Khaled spent a lot of time in: the home of the Haruba Desert, which was his first major expedition. Khaled briefly settled in Almia's major port city Pueltown afterwards, he'd said. Riley thinks that's a good a place as any to look for the thing his friend asked of him.
What am I doing? he asks himself as he strolls through the town. I've wanted to go to Canalave forever, yet I'm here. But it's a convenient stop on the way, he reasons, since he's also fulfilling Khaled's request.
It's the first time Riley has been alone in years. He's forgotten how to handle solitude — which is ironic, since he wandered the country alone before he met Khaled. Alone with his pokemon, his only friends since he got his heart broken in Hoenn… Then, suddenly, Khaled was in his life. Years of adventure, danger, failures, successes — and just like that, he's en route to Kalos to see a relative. He'd been a constant for Riley all this time. Without him, he feels lost.
Riley shakes his head to clear his silly thoughts. He's going to Canalave. He's going to reunite with someone very important to him.
He pauses by a shop called Café Haruba, which makes him think of Khaled all over again. He hurriedly strolls past, although he considers going back to try a specialty coffee with the village's namesake confection. His lack of attention makes him collide with a passerby.
"Watch where you're going," the young man says brusquely, with a glare.
"I'm so sorry—" Riley apologizes. He locks eyes with him for just a moment; he's stricken by a feeling that this boy is familiar somehow. He has shaggy dark hair and wide-set brown eyes that continue to shoot daggers.
"Tourists," he mutters, continuing on his way.
Riley stares after him, considers following. Instead he snaps back to reality. "I need to get out of here," he says to himself.
But by then it's late. Riley's nerves are shot after the incident at the Sinjoh Ruins just this morning. He decides he'll get a good night's sleep and head to Canalave in the morning with a clear head.
In his hotel, he watches the news to see what's going on in the world. The top story is how Sinnoh's Stark Mountain erupted without warning, baffling scientists who had predicted the volcano would stay dormant for hundreds of years to come. Though there is no proof yet, they believe some external force caused it, as though something or someone tampered with the mountain's makeup. As far as they can tell, there were no victims found on the sparsely-populated island.
"The burning mountain," Riley says incredulously. Stark Mountain once had a name that meant as such in an ancient language. The burning mountain on the black island. The old land in danger, the unown had warned. This is not a coincidence. Canalave will have to wait a little bit longer so Riley can investigate the volcano himself.
Naturally, the entire volcanic region is blocked off, as agents from both the Environmental Protection Bureau and the Sinnoh League Association guard the routes leading there. Riley has to laugh at himself for thinking he could just waltz up to the still-smoking Stark Mountain and poke around, though that's exactly what he, a wayfaring pokemon trainer, had intended to do.
Instead he slips into the thick forest on foot and tells his lucario to explore the remains in his stead. His oldest pokemon is the stealthiest, and can hide from human eyes. His aura sense is infinitely better than Riley's, so he'll be able to detect any trace of unscrupulous activity, even after it happened.
Riley has his suspicions as to who was involved, based on hints from his divine message. He prays he is wrong.
Now that his plans have come to a halt, Riley realizes he could have gone to Canalave first, then come to check out Stark Mountain when the aftermath was over. He tells himself that he's on the Battle Zone island now, he might as well stay for a few days to find out whatever he can, then continue to the promised city.
Maybe I'm not ready to see him again, he thinks, bitterly. Oh Khaled, what am I going to do?
The closest "town" to Stark Mountain is the Survival Area, which is more of a waystation for those training in the harsh environment. The next closest place of civilization is the Fight Area, a small port town that serves as the entry point to the gaudy Battle Frontier. By process of elimination, Riley decides to wait out his time in the Resort Area, Sinnoh's most exclusive vacation spot that sits farther from the other two towns on the Battle Zone's southeastern beach.
After securing a room at one of the beachfront resorts, Riley's next order of business is dinner. He discovers a restaurant boasting Shin'ai fare named Atuy Kotan, which he knows to be the town's original name before the Sinnoh League Association bought up the island. At least some vestige of native culture has remained.
He is initially disappointed that the restaurant does not feel like a thorough trip back in time. When he enters, a young waitress roller-skates past him, bidding him welcome and cheerfully telling him to have a seat. Her costume robe includes short sleeves and shorter skirt, which is not faithful to old Shin'ai dress at all. The hems are trimmed in wide red bands with a traditional Shin'ai pattern, so Riley gives the designer credit for that. The restaurant's decor is more tasteful: antique statues, weapons, and cookware — or replicas of them — mounted on the walls.
Riley slides into a booth and studies a menu, which consists of everyday modern dishes alongside a handful of Shin'ai-inspired meals. Though he's discouraged further, he figures it's to cater to the tastes of Resort Area patrons. Before he can mull it over, the waitress skids to a stop before him, handing him a complimentary cup of hot tea. "Hi! My name's Pirika. I'm the only waitress here, but I'll take good care of you."
Riley smiles, glancing at her skates. "The only one? Are you short-staffed today?"
"Nope, it's just me, all day every day!" She beams. "Is this your first visit? I think I would have remembered a face as handsome as yours."
"Indeed it is," he responds, amused. She is angling for a good tip.
"If you have any questions, I'll be more than happy to answer them."
"Might I look around at your decor while I wait? I'm somewhat of an antiques dealer."
"Oh! Yes of course, feel free. Some of these objects were uncovered from the Shin'ai Expedition and given to us personally."
This takes Riley by surprise. "Is that so? That's fantastic." He hands Pirika the menu and orders a Shin'ai specialty meat and vegetable stew. She compliments his choice and glides away backwards with practiced ease, smiling at him the entire time.
Now that he can study the restaurant more, he can appreciate how it's set up to be more of a cozy cabin than a kitschy tourist trap. Some of the decor — like a framed robe with twice as much fabric as Pirika's — is clearly replicated, while others are the genuine article. Next to the entrance in a glass case is a weathered, wooden statue of an ursaring on four legs with a fish in its jaws. On the wall beside it is a newspaper clipping about the Shin'ai Expedition, the largest discovery of the indigenous people's relics in a single area. It was lead by the young Khaled Jones just one year after his archaeological debut in the Haruba Desert.
Riley knows all this, of course. Khaled has regaled him with tales of all his exploits, and he particularly liked bragging about this expedition, not only because it brought him renown and helped revitalize the Hallows Town Shin'ai District, but because he had to deal with all that snow and ice when he's a born desert and sun man. The rewards, he said, were well worth freezing his ass off in the Snowpoint mountain range.
In the accompanying photo, Khaled is grinning while holding up the same ursaring statue. He is twenty-two — just a couple years younger than Riley is now — and he hasn't aged much at all in the seventeen years since this picture was taken.
"I hear you're an expert," a voice interrupts his fond memories. Riley jumps as he faces a woman who looks almost exactly like the cute little waitress. The same dark hair, identical blue eyes. Her older sister, perhaps. She's dressed for neither serving nor cooking.
"That may be a slight exaggeration," he admits. "I just know a thing or two about the Shin'ai."
"Then I hope my humble establishment makes a good impression." She sticks out her hand. "Ayame Hidaka, owner and proprietor."
"It does." He shakes her hand. "I'm Riley Torres. You were able to procure some of the finds just for your restaurant all the way out here? I would think the Shin'ai Museum claimed them all."
"I was working at the Maratto restaurant in Hallows Town back then. But I wanted to open my own place, and I chose to come all the way up here. Thought the rich folk who vacation in Resort Area might like a different kind of culture. So Haruba Jones was able to send me with a few relics. I owe it all to him, really."
"That was very generous. I'm a friend of his, actually."
"Are you?" Ayame lights up. "Have you seen him recently?"
"Just days ago. If you can keep a secret, he should be coming back to Sinnoh pretty soon with a major discovery."
"Oh…" she whispers, gazing at the news article. "I wonder if he'll stop by."
Riley studies her and tries to recall if Khaled ever mentioned an Ayame. Her wistful voice, in particular, interests him. He would like to get her to talk more, at length, so he can focus on her aura. Before he can, there's the familiar sound of skates skidding to a halt. "I've brought your dinner to your table, sir," Pirika pipes up.
"Thank you. I've been looking forward to it."
"Is there anything else I can get for you? More tea? I could tell you about our own little museum."
"Pikki," Ayame says crisply, "table two needs bussing."
"Mom!" she cries. With an embarrassed glance up at Riley, she skates away.
"You're her mother?" he confirms. "I could have sworn you were sisters."
Ayame smiles modestly. "Aren't you sweet. I must get back to work, so please enjoy your meal. And thank you for your visit."
"Thank you, Ms. Hidaka." Riley nods to her.
The stew is excellent, earthy and refreshing, unlike anything he's had before. Riley is a great lover of foods from all over the world, so he is pleased to add another dish to his experience. There is only one pair of diners left, which he feels is a shame. Then again, tourist season is still a couple of months away. He prays business will pick up in the summer.
He wonders how his lucario's investigation of Stark Mountain is going. Feeling impatient about it, he distracts himself watching Pirika glide over to the other couple, chat eagerly with them, and take their drinks for refills. After returning to them, she looks around for signs of her mother, then approaches Riley's table by skating on one foot.
"How is it?" she asks.
"Superb. Please give my compliments to your chef. You do have more than one of those?"
She winces through her gracious smile. "Just the one. But he'll be very glad to hear it."
"Has it always been this way? I imagine it can get stressful."
"Well, no… but that keeps it interesting!" She adds extra enthusiasm, which Riley can tell is forced. "So please spread the word about us if you can."
"I certainly shall. I'm heading to Canalave City after my business here on the island. Their international bazaar could surely do with some advertising of your lovely place."
"Ooh, that'd be great!" She touches his shoulder. "You're so nice. You're here on business, you say? Antiquing business?"
With that touch, he looks at her more intently, deep into her wide blue eyes. In the back of his mind, his rusty aura sense flickers.
At his profound stare, Pirika blushes and retracts her hand. "My apologies," Riley says hastily. "My mind suddenly wandered. A bad habit of mine. I confess, not business in that sense. I've come because of what happened to Stark Mountain."
"Oh yes, that was terrible. I'm afraid there's not much anyone can do, however."
"I have a hunch that something more happened there than we're led to believe," says Riley. "I'd like to find out what."
"Unless you're with the authorities, I doubt you will. Like a true Shin'ai descendent, I'm obligated to say the freak eruption might have something to do with Heatran, the demi-god who guards the mountain."
Riley rubs his chin. "Heatran…"
"I'm kidding, he's just a local legend." Pirika giggles. "It's unusual that an antiques dealer would be investigating an active volcano." Her voice becomes a little more playful. "Just how many kinds of 'business' do you get into?"
Even though she's slathering honey on the wrong tree, he decides to play along. "A little of this, a little of that. Never you mind, Miss Pikki." He grins at her.
"H-hey!" she protests, cheeks flushing.
"It's cute, it suits you."
She pouts a little. "I don't mind it, really. Just sometimes I want to be seen as a grown-up. I'm sixteen, for heaven's sake."
This surprises Riley, for she's so short and slight that she doesn't pass for it. Just like Ayame doesn't seem old enough to have a teenage daughter. Riley mentally runs some calculations. It could be…
He leaves a generous tip in addition to his bill, hoping it helps the struggling restaurant. If his lucario doesn't return by noon tomorrow, he'll go back for lunch.
Riley is the only lunchtime patron of Atuy Kotan. While waiting for his meal, he chats with Pirika, who hangs out by his table. She's turned on the aesthetically inappropriate wall-mounted television for background noise, but neither of them pay much attention.
The only time she leaves is to retrieve his order, another Shin'ai dish of smoked fish and wild leeks. She also brings back a mochi for herself to snack on. Just as she takes a bite, someone enters. "Hi! Welcome to— oh!" she exclaims. Riley looks for himself, discovering his lucario standing at the door.
Silently, he approaches the table. He's dirty and looks extremely weary, and Riley scoots over in the booth to make room for him, giving him a fish skewer. "Bring me another order, please, Miss Pirika."
"Ahh… sure thing." She's not wearing her skates yet, so as she walks to the kitchen, she keeps glancing back. Riley lets his pokemon eat his fill to regain his energy before inquiring as to what he learned.
"Wow… a lucario," remarks Pirika as she returns, sliding into the booth across from them.
"His name is Alhabor," Riley supplies. "He looked around Stark Mountain for me, since I could not pass the blockade."
"Smart. Do you like the fish, Alhabor?"
He polishes off the last bite and gives her a curt nod. Then he hands Riley a small thing: a metal pen, dull and scratched. Has it had been buried in magma? Puzzled, Riley examines the worn engraving, and quickly feels his heart plummet into his stomach. This is proof of the fact he feared.
"Herrera Mining Company," he says, hollowly.
"What does that mean?" Pirika asks.
Riley's hand closes around the pen, clenching into a tight fist. "It means that the company has their eye on the mountain. The mountain that's been under sanctuary by the Environmental Protection Bureau and the Sinnoh League Association." The old land in danger.
"They were mining in there, and that caused the eruption?"
Riley frowns. "That can't be. There would have been equipment, and a lot more debris." Alhabor nods to confirm. "And besides, I doubt even Darius Herrera can bribe his way into mining that mountain… so what could he have been doing there?"
"Sounds like you know him personally?"
"Quite personally," he answers darkly. Alhabor echoes his sentiment with a low growl.
They both hear a mention of Stark Mountain on the TV, so Pirika turns up the volume. A news anchor explains how the Environmental Protection Bureau has ruled Stark Mountain's eruption as a miscalculation, a human error. "Impossible!" Riley cries out suddenly, banging his fist on the table.
"Pikki!" Ayame's voice rings out. She comes out carrying the second plate of fish and leeks. "I know we're not busy, but you still have to pay attention."
"Mom, listen." She points at the TV. "It's important."
"This error could cause a notable lack of tourism to the Battle Zone this summer, as trainers and vacationers alike won't want to risk another unexpected eruption," the anchor continues. The camera cuts away to a street interview with various people in Jubilife City expressing concerns over taking their families to a now-unstable island.
"Oh no," Ayame says quietly, dreadfully.
"That's not good," Pirika adds.
"It's worse than just not good. I—" The restaurant owner glances at Riley and his lucario, her sole patrons. "I've been going over the books since yesterday. The only way we're going to pull through is with the summer boom… and that's if we're lucky. If there's even the slightest decrease as they're predicting…"
Though Riley is still brooding over the presence of the Herrera Company, and the fact that the unown's message rang true, he still hears Ayame's bad news. He looks up at her standing over his table. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Hidaka."
"Then this is the perfect time for me to enter the tournament!" Pirika exclaims.
"It most certainly is not!" her mother scolds. "I'll need you here more than ever!"
"No, see, if I win enough gym badges, I could get scouted and earn a ton of money! Which I'll send back to you!" Pirika hops out of the booth. "And if I get really good, I can enter the tournament in August, where all the top winners earn a fortune!"
Ayame sighs. "I know you want to, but you don't even have a pokemon to train, let alone a team…"
"There's Maren!"
"She's our dishwasher!"
"Which means her water gun is perfected!"
Mother and daughter stare each other down. "I don't see it happening," Ayame says. "We can't afford to send you to Jubilife, let alone get a trainer's license."
"That's where you're wrong. I've been saving my tips. There's not quite enough yet, but I might be able to make it before the end of registration next month."
"I—" Flabbergasted, Ayame looks to Riley, as if begging him to reason with her child.
"Well," he starts, "successful competitors can make a comfortable living before they even enter the tournament. Like she says, advertisers love to scout up-and-coming pro trainers. And big companies will sponsor those who earn multiple gym badges."
Ayame scowls at him. "Well, until you find me some wait staff who will work for free, it's out of the question." Without another word, she heads back to her office.
Pirika plops down in the booth with a sigh. "Thanks anyway. I meant it about sending her all my earnings to help… I just want to train some pokemon and travel around Sinnoh. I'm tired of being cooped up here. Can't enjoy the beach if you have to work all the time for next to nothing."
Riley pats her hand. "Traveling with pokemon is one of the best ways to spend your time, trust me." He looks to his lucario by his side, who has been helping himself to the second plateful. "When I was your age, Alhabor and I were training ourselves in Johto."
"That's what I should be doing." She sighs again, more heavily. "I'm always taking care of the pokemon that our guests bring here. Everyone says I'm good with them. I even trained Maren to wash dishes all by myself."
"Seems to me that if you can do that, you can train another to take your place."
"Ha. That might bring in some business, a pokemon waitress."
"I've seen it done. I think you can succeed in this, Miss Pirika." In squeezing her hand, he picks up hints of her aura. It's enough to confirm what he sensed yesterday, which he must keep to himself.
She smiles shyly. "Thanks, Mr. Torres. You can call me Pikki if you like."
"It seems to me that you're a mature young lady who looks like a Miss Pirika." He smiles back. "And you may call me Riley."
Her cheeks redden. "Okay, Riley. So… now that you have a lead on Stark Mountain…" she says cautiously, pointing at the pen on the table, "will you be leaving town?"
"I'm afraid so. I don't think there's anything else for me to learn, so I'd best move on."
"Canalave City, you said?" she sounds a little sad.
"Yes, my old home. Well, temporary home, but it was the best time of my youth. Honestly, I'm a bit nervous about it. There's someone I mean to track down."
"Well, good luck. Come back and visit us sometime."
The door opens again, this time with human patrons. As Pirika springs to action, showing them to a table, Riley watches her with growing fondness. He sticks the cursed Herrera pen inside his jacket pocket, pulls out one of his own, and starts writing a note to her on a piece of scrap paper.
He leaves payment for the two dishes on the table, as well as a tip large enough for a new trainer's license fee. Then he and Alhabor slip outside without a word. Riley dons his hat to shield his eyes from the bright spring sun.