Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon. Whoop dee doo.

Wander

Chapter 3: Tardy Departure

For the next five days, Dod started reading a lot of books as well as edging in a few battle simulation sessions which, though various guides admitted were quite helpful in getting a feel for type matchups and battle mechanics, apparently caused some trainers to be more narrow-minded without considering extra factors. So as not to raise suspicion from Kurt and the rest of the household (except Carrac, who was already aware but kept quiet as he happened to be feeling a little devious) he left to play the usual games of tennis and hang out with his companions, as well as cruise the areas in the parks reserved for pokémon battles to see what he was getting into. What he saw there impressed him, especially the works of a boy around his own age who seemed bored with the lack of worthy competition around him and disappeared after the first day, but that was all it took to convince the boy that taking the delivery job and journeying wasn't going to be boring, at least.

It seemed he'd have to take the job in the end. Nothing else he found sounded remotely preferable, so he broke the news to his gang of friends quite soon. They took it surprisingly well, lending words of encouragement, some of them even challenging him to battles for when he passed by (since Eterna City's Gym was typically the second in the circuit, he'd eventually be forced to, unless he decided to just wander). As it turned out, some of his chums had some pokémon of their own, and one guy who was well acquainted with a breeder offered to donate an egg. Dod didn't appreciate how he'd phrased it, but let it slide and told him he'd think about it.

Only on the very last night allowed for him did he dramatically announce, at the dinner table, glass in hand, that he had, in fact, found a job after all. The alarmed expression on Kurt's face almost made up for the fact that Dod would actually have to leave to do the work anyway, which he promptly declared.

Needless to say, the caretaker was not pleased. Remarkably, he only trembled in rage for a few moments (having realised this had been set up days in advance) before he took a long, deep breath, and sighed. Then he shrugged.

"That's what we wanted from the start."

"What?" All the boy could do was gape as Kurt elaborated, though it made sense, especially considering the following statement.

"Nobody expected you to actually find anything to do, really. I mean, your father and I have been trying for at least a year to gently prod you towards the right direction, but you have never gotten serious enough, so we decided to pull out all the stops and kick you right out of the city."

Dod just stood at his spot and stared dumbly, attempting to process the fact that he'd just been duped by Kurt, of all people. For once, it was the older man who had to suppress a grin, although Dod himself wouldn't have extended the same courtesy. Still, the teen could hardly accept defeat that easily. "What made you think I WOULDN'T get a job?"

"You've had plenty of time from before, and even we couldn't find anything that you would agree to immediately. Now, back to business," the burly man proclaimed, and so they were. As it turned out, the teen wasn't actually expected to leave that day, though if he knew what was coming, perhaps he would have considered that option.

Instead that event was pushed back another week on the calender, during which he had to survive a brutal training regimen enforced by Kurt and his experienced cousin Gerald, a veteran trainer and member of some army with a long name and no official acronym. Between the two of them, he was sure his life expectancy would plummet. Especially given how unorthodox their coaching methods were...

Practice took place on a fairly large grassy plain existing behind the buildings in their neighbourhood. It was a beautiful area full of various plants, reminiscent of the town on the other side of the forest, but nice enough to stand out on its own. Thankfully, people chose to visit other, even better places to enjoy the scenery, so there was little clutter or interference and with the trees and other greenery they could simulate a real camping situation. Research on pokémon battling and trainer had been done for the most part already, even if some basic concepts seemed foggy, so Dod endured very few lectures.

Unfortunately, this led them outdoors. Partly for survival skills, but also for torturous physical training in order to strengthen his body. Running laps, doing various stretches push-ups, sit-ups, even obscure acrobatics...just when he thought he'd done it all, the poor child was ushered onto various obstacle courses where many of the household's pokémon gathered to supply some of the actual obstacles and he had to apply his new skills. It turned out that Kurt's brother was planning to teach him how to withstand pokémon attacks himself.

Selena, the cheerful gardevoir, flung discs and various other rounded objects at the boy. Her appearance was that of a white wearing a lengthy, gleaming dress, with a prominent red chest, a green coloured hairstyle and similar arms.

Ronald the huge, dark, bulky aggron with chunks of metals of minerals surrounding parts of his body, assisted with setting up the actual debris and terrain for the course as if he was working with household furniture.

A zippy, light-footed blaziken named Tarika simply repeated the course as many times as she could, and a comparison of her total number of laps run within Dod's time was used to measure the boy's own progress. Watching the flaming streaks blur past him was not fun, but it certainly motivated him to attempt escaping embarrassment, though the punishment just for being late made him avoid any drastic measures.

The generally apathetic and unconcerned Leafeon set herself down about the edge of the designated area, using the unique abilities of her species to replace any lost flora from the training, rather than maintaining their garden.

"Why do you keep making me dodge things?" Dod screamed as he ducked under a speeding frisbee. "If I get attacked by criminals or wild pokémon, I'll have tame pokémon with me! Unless I'm stupid to tick off an Ursaring it'll be fine!"

"Of course your team will face many pokemon!" Gerald spat each word out far too enthusiastically, "That is the easy part! But boy, what will you do if they decide to attack YOU? Times have changed with the birth of Teams like Rocket, Aqua, Magma, Galactic...you need to be prepared for anything. Losing a battle against a wild pokémon would be disastrous without backup procedure."

After that the teen felt the supreme urge to shut up, courtesy of Gerald's horrific, stern gaze: a completely unnatural sensation. He felt a prickling sensation in his head and a little nauseous, before Dod realized he'd shifted 20 metres away from where he was before. Recognizing obvious psychic activity, he whirled round to Carrac, who shrugged, having only just left the kitchen to watch Dod flail around the large yard for a bit.

"That...must be our new addition to the household," Kurt reasoned hesitantly, albeit snickering. "Take a look over there."

Still disorientated, the poor boy stumbled to fix his gaze on a small green and white object in the distance that seemed to vibrate, stopping to focus on the rest of the field behind his home. The lush, healthy green grass made it perfect for agility and evasiveness training (there would be lots of rolling and falling involved), according to Gerald. Then, without warning, in the time it took for Dod to blink, the gap lessened considerably.

One undignified shout later, he felt indignant, but tried thinking of nice things to comfort himself. The first thing that came to mind was toothpaste, which didn't have the desired effect. Instead it reminded him of that accursed green and white shape that had filled his vision, and must have triggered that strange thought with its colour scheme. The few details he'd missed included the red horns on the front and back of the round green cap above a solid yet spectral white sheet, as well as the bright, gleaming eyes that he could only now see from his angle, as they lay behind that obscuring helmet that bobbed along with the rest of the creature as it giggled.

"This is..." Dod started, "Uh, some psychic pokemon I read about called..."

"Ralts," finished Kurt with his previous grin still plastered onto his face, "Again, a recent addition to the home we have here."

"Ralts," the boy repeated, ignoring the irritating laughter from the creature in question, "It was listed as an example of a typically young species in the psychic type description, known to detect and read emotions continuously. Speaking of which."

The moment Dod ditched his surprise and confusion to fuel his anger instead, his new enemy disappeared.

"They usually only appear in front of people who are feeling positive emotions like happiness," the caretaker noted, "Though he seems like the mischievous type."

"Great. Just great."

"That was quite clever, glaring at him to scare him off. Hopefully Carrac can keep him in check, he seems scarily proficient with teleportation already..."

A pause.

"Kurt?"

The man in question replied instantly, "Yes?"

"Where'd your bro go?"

A few hours after Gerald was returned to his rightful spot along with a couple of other pokémon, and a while after daylight disappeared, Dod was finally released from his torturous training sessions. The ralts was supervised by Carrac for a while as he was the only one able to keep up with the energetic trickster.

At the dinner table Dod devoured all of his food more speedily and heartily than ever under Gerald's watchful gaze, which he still couldn't bring himself to meet. How any of his subordinates could manage to hold their stances as perfectly as their commanding officer longingly described them, he'd never know. Even the house pokémon seemed at least mildly wary. Carrac had stolen one peek into Gerald's mind before he promptly fled the scene, cowering in the kitchen as he often did on the rare occasions that something he encountered genuinely freaked him out.

Taking advantage of the early end to his meal, Dod decided to question Kurt. "So when did that ralts get here?" he started, "Where's he from?"

The caretaker barely stopped himself from spraying cuisine all over the table. In order to buy some time he hesitantly replied, "Around a week, I'd say. It astounded me when you didn't even realize he was around, even long after the egg hatched. For once you were actually working quite hard, instead of just lying around the house. You were completely focused and absorbed."

The boy looked away and rubbed the back of his head, responding slowly, "Well, I've had far too much help from you two..."

Silence on both ends.

"Now stop avoiding the question." Seeing Kurt so agitated was still FAR too satisfying...

"...He came from here."

"Oh, now I get why you're flustered. One of the parents must have been Selena since they look so alike, but...what about the other one?"

Apparently this was the real reason for his unease, because the butler clammed up. No answer was provided until Gerald finally lost his patience.

"It's that dusknoir you have flying about!" he spat out, "MORTIMER!"

For the third time that day, the house was dead quiet, uncomfortably so, its inhabitants unsure of what to do, with the exception of Gerald, who continued to eat unperturbed. He simply lay out the facts, and had long since overcome awkwardness after a series of practical jokes from his academy days. Dod, faced with this news for the first time, had trouble picturing Mortimer of all pokémon being in a relationship- he was horrifically timid, though less so than when he wasn't yet fully evolved.

Mortimer, who of course just happened to be in the corridor, froze at the mention of his name. Suddenly he felt very thankful for the absence of Selena and his child, and was able to flee the scene unnoticed.

Nothing had changed by the time Gerald finished his plate. Dod hadn't even had the resolve to leave the table until another comment was made, while Kurt was barely touching his now cool bowl of porridge. Thankfully, serious, reliable, merciful Gerald seemed willing to comply.

"I'm surprised you could even tell he was male," he remarked casually, "The Ralts family members tend to be rather feminine."

"Oh shucks, I live in a house with more than a trainer team's worth, bye, thank you."

And with that he made a mad dash for his bedroom, trying desperately not to ponder this newfound romance.

Try as he might, he could NOT stop himself from thinking about it, and he'd almost felt like planning to fling himself into those horrid training sessions just to occupy his mind a bit more. As soon as some of the more graphic visions subsided, though, he was noticeably calmer regarding the topic, and began to make observations linking the young ralts to his parents. Still, he couldn't quite conjure up enough confidence to congratulate them or anything.

Dod started feeling suspicious when Kurt started gently edging him towards the ralts and vice versa on a regular basis. Of course, he had no real evidence or sign of anything sinister, so the boy simply remained silent, until one day the ralts was actually allowed to wander about the training grounds and cause more mayhem, which set him off. After a short, paranoiac outburst, the bodyguard blinked, before calmly informing Dod that the ralts was going to be his first pokémon.

"Wait," Dod asked, bewildered, "I thought I was going to Professor Rowan's lab to get my first pokémon."

"I said you'd get A pokémon," Kurt retorted, "Not necessarily your first. You're going to need a while to get used to him and convince him to leave with you in the first place. I'm sure he'll appreciate the space and freedom."

After a brief moment to mull this revelation over, the teen slowly said, "You...could've mentioned this before..."

"Didn't Carrac notify you?"

"No!"

"Oh, well..." he replied indifferently, "Nothing we can do about it now."

Of course, since fate loved to torture him, this happened to Dod right at the end of the current week limit, and thus his painful fitness and conditioning would continue for about the longest amount of time possible. Upon this realization, the poor boy let loose a cry of anguish before glowering at his butler and then stomping off in a fit.

For the next few days, Dod started trying to 'train' with the ralts. It was for like playing than training- he'd turn everything into a game for the young creature so that he wouldn't lose interest. Soon the ralts started chasing after the boy on his own, and Dod would have to openly express his frustration to scare him away when it went too far. He had to admit it was enjoyable, though. Sometimes he'd get the ralts to use teleport on him and he'd have to find his way back, or they'd play a more exciting game of hide-and-seek than one would expect from the pair. Other times they'd make use of psychic powers to prank the rest of the household or set loose frisbees. Fortunately the other household pokémon had no problems with helping handle the younger one, otherwise Dod would've gone insane.

Surprisingly, the topic of naming didn't appear for quite a while, and once it did all of the previous activity halted and Dod finally had some time alone to hang out with his friends, since Gerald had left after giving some advice on training the ralts. It turned out that he was learning how to read, due to his will to pick his own name. Everyone was so tired of calling him 'the ralts' that they agreed.

Since Carrac had been forced to learn to read and record recipes and ingredients, among other things like equipment, with his expertise, it was a huge success in comparison to various other small projects with the child that never quite got off the ground. Thus the ralts accompanied Dod to the library (with a bag of treats to keep him quiet) on his favourite spot on his shoulder where he wouldn't make the teen uncomfortable enough to force the young pokémon off.

It appeared that the youngster wasn't quite expecting this many books and seemed overwhelmed yet overjoyed by the choices and general freedom of movement, so Dod simply picked a direction at random and headed off.

The short walk found them at the section for 'hot' and popular works. There were books on naming new pokémon that the teen was itching to resort to, but his passenger felt more content with staring at the spines or covers instead. The moment any book was opened by his carrier, he'd use his rapidly developing psychic powers to return it to its rough location, although messily. One novel was actually torn, and Dod replaced it inconspicuously and hurriedly edged away down the row.

In an act of defiance, the irritated teenage boy repeatedly withdrew the same book from a shelf while his passenger, over and over again until the ralts just squealed, stopped moving things and pouted. Dod was about to make a witty retort after lifting him up when he felt someone staring from beside him. Turning towards that direction he spotted a girl his age gazing at the struggling mass in his arms with huge green eyes, which he recognised immediately as the kind some of his girlier female friends would sometimes have when gushing over something cute.

Trepidation building up, he considered fleeing the scene, but feared provoking or offending the bystander, so he shifted the small pokémon into a more relaxing position and decided to wait it out. The youngster he was holding seemed appeased by this as he ceased his escape attempts and curiously scanned the lines of books before the pair. Surprisingly, the girl next to them seemed quite sociable and tried striking up a conversation.

"That's an adorable ralts!" she exclaimed brightly, "Looks young. Where'd you get him or her from?"

Dod slowly and as plainly as possible replied, "Other pokémon. And he's male."

"Oh!" she gasped, hesitant, "Were his parents at a daycare place or some place for pokémon to relax?"

"Nah," Dod responded, "We have a big house with a huge park behind us that tourists don't bother to visit."

"So you live here?" she questioned, "Whenever I see anyone older than ten with a pokémon, I just assume they're travelling trainers."

"Not for long." said the boy, "I'm leaving in a while to get my second one at Sandgem Town."

"Sandgem? Never heard of it. I only know a few places since I moved from Kanto recently."

"Well, it's a smaller place than this city, but it has Professor Rowan's lab there, and he gives out pokémon to people, apparently. I thought it was only starters, to let people that had none safely wander about, but Kurt seems to think otherwise."

"Who's that? Someone famous here?"

"Uh, the professor is, but Kurt...no. He's my uh...caretaker. Or butler? I never really sorted that out."

"Oh," she yelped, startled, "Sorry, I didn't know your parents were..."

"Whoa, relax," he assured her, "My Dad's still alive and well, he's just out working in Unova and lives with my little bro. He pays someone to stop me from burning the house down, and since he's rich he can easily afford it. I have video games and friends. Nothing's wrong."

His conversation partner could tell that there was something hidden in there, but pried no further. She just nervously looked away at whatever she was holding (a naming book, funnily enough) before murmuring.

"Sorry?" Dod asked. If her mouth hadn't been in his line of sight he would've scarcely been aware that she'd spoken.

She repeated her sentence, a little aggravated, "Lucia Carmen."

"Who's that?" the boy grinned slightly, speaking quietly, "Someone famous?"

"FRIENDS call me Lucy," she continued, peeved but reassured, "You can say whatever."

"Well then," he replied, "Call me Dod."

"Dod? Sure...what about him? The little guy you had with you?"

"Where did he even- oh." That short speech had unsettled the 'Feeling Pokémon' and caused him to teleport away, but he returned to his perch after they exchanged names. "We're still working on that," Dod explained. Before he could be bothered to elaborate, he followed Lucia's gaze to a book that the ralts was pointing to. "Maybe we can finally get this over with..."

It was a classic mystery novel series that was refurbished and repackaged with a more flashy and visually appealing exterior to attract more customers despite the hit series' already global influence. Dod noted, "The only thing I can actually read from here is the name of the original author, something Conan whatever, I can't pronounce the rest."

A giggle was heard from atop his head (causing another giggle from beside him), signalling a good find. Finally, Dod retrieved the first book that wasn't immediately rejected and returned. "Okay," the boy started, "So your name will be Arthuriou-"

Thus began the wailing.

One pokémon snack later, the teen tried again, this time more cautiously. "How about Conan...?" he asked trepidatiously.

The newly named ralts was appeased. Whether or not he truly understood what a name was would be apparent later on, but if not Conan would catch on with time. For now, the teen was glad to have something to call the little guy.

Dod's new neighbour was starting to make him feel uncomfortable with her gleeful grin. He could practically hear that girly squeal inside her head, and up until a while ago she was just watching the ralts held up in his arms leafing through book spines for a good name while the boy below made inadequate suggestions. Now that his business was over, he considered leaving the two together and waltzing around the library of his own accord, but didn't feel like risking an incident and left there and then before Conan got too attached to anything, saying a quick farewell to Lucia.

A few days later, Dod finally left his house feeling incredibly stupid.

With his hellish training behind him (though he had to admit it did wonders for his fitness), he had actually been looking forward to his departure. After all, a pokémon journey was what so many little boys and girls dreamed about. Battling was something exciting to expect, and Dod knew the experience would be more than video games could ever hope to emulate, having lived with pokémon for pretty much his whole life. He'd been prepared to walk out the door without batting an eye, but apparently Kurt and Gerald wanted to leave him just ONE last parting gift.

Hence the uniform.

A fresh, brand new, pristine army style uniform which came together with combat boots and a helmet was shoved into his arms, accompanied with clear instructions that Dod wouldn't have followed if it weren't for that GLARE Gerald sent his way. The boy's short, black hair and lightly tanned skin seemed a perfect match for the outfit. He sighed, imagining a number of melodramatic reactions: those thanking him for his service to their nation, some bursting into laughter, others fleeing at first sight...

Seething, the boy swallowed whatever heartfelt words he would've had to the man he'd lived with for years and slipped into the shadows to avoid being seen, before he noticed other people wearing interesting clothing. Just passing his hovel were a trail of kids dressed as skeletons. Down the street, wizard, witch and zombie clothing and props for various disguises with different themes surrounded the front porches of various houses. A bedsheet shuppet shuffled up his driveway, before halting and waiting impatiently for Dod to disappear from the doorway.

Seconds later, Kurt joined him with a smirk on his face.

"You planned this, didn't you?"

"Have some holiday spirit," the butler replied, "And to be fair, it's a good costume."

"It does look pretty cool," Dod admitted after a sigh, "I'll call you when it's time to leave to Sandgem."

With that, he trotted off in the direction of the bike shop, Conan lounging on his shoulder. Being a pokémon, and a psychic-type at that, the little one had grown astonishingly fast, having realized a while ago what leaving home on a journey entailed. It had been difficult to leave his parents, but above all else he valued freedom, and decided to pursue it in the safest way he could, as a trainer's pokémon.

Rad Rickshaw flung open the front door in a panic.

"Where have you been?" he shouted emphasizing certain words to get his point across, "The order's due in minutes! Just how are you going to get the package there? And...you're dressing up for Halloween on the first day of the job? It's very fitting, actually. Why don't I just make everyone wear military uniforms?"

His new employee, now stoic, spoke one word.

"Teleport."

In an instant he'd contacted Kurt, who arrived right outside with Carrac. Dod snatched the parcel from his boss' store and sprinted toward the pair, and the moment they all made contact, the whole group vanished, save for a dumbfounded bicycle shop owner.

Author's Notes:

Eh, I don't feel all that happy with this chapter, but a lot of it has been sitting around for ages, almost untouched. Plus it ended up being far too long for Storybook to handle much more, so the second part of the already late intended Halloween update will have to wait even longer.

The whole 'not capitalizing species names' thing has been around for a while, and since it makes sense, I'm adopting the rule now. Capital letters for species names will only be there when referring to pokemon without nicknames of any sort. Conan stayed as 'the ralts' because they didn't call him Ralts.

I didn't have much of a costume to speak of on October 31st, so I just wore black jeans, a long Quiksilver winter jacket and passed myself off as a partially burnt off rock. Not sure if it worked, but I got some good laughs out of it.

Not sure if I feel ready for any shout-outs since I'm years away from having much of a name myself, but I think I'll give it a go. Once every chapter sounds good, and considering my track record with updates I doubt I'll run out of choices.

First off, The Sardonic Adventure of Briar Casey is amazing. Absolutely brilliant. Written by sushi4427, uploaded by .Dolum due to site issues. If you want to follow the sequel in its first stages on sushi's account, named The Callous Adventure of Travis Thorn, read the two stories in order. You will not regret it.

On another note, the length of each chapter seems to be growing exponentially...