Chapter 4

For the first time in what felt like forever, I woke up rested. The Poochyena didn't move much in her sleep, worrying me at first. I sat up in bed, watching her breathe. It was peaceful. And exhausted. I made sure to not wake her up when I got out of bed.

I went about my normal routine as I got ready for work, thinking about the unexpected night I had experienced.

There's always something that stops you from going through with it, I thought, letting the shower water run down my back.

I now had a Pokemon; that changed things.

But how? I wondered, working the shampoo into my hair. I wasn't sure. I lathered up my body, trying not to think about it. But what I did know was that my plans of offing myself were put on hold.

Getting out of the shower, I dried off with one towel, using a different one for my hair.

I don't keep my hair long- it's just that thick.

"I'll laugh if I go bald when I'm thirty," I told my reflection in the mirror. "Probably won't make it that far though."

I walked on the balls of my feet when I went out of the bathroom, only wearing a pair of purple boxers.

One thing I was happy about moving back to stocking shelves: no strict dress code. I slid on a pair of jeans, faded and a little more baggy than I was used to. I hadn't worn them in ages. I put on my favorite purple shirt of a cartoon depiction of a Gengar. It was faded and a little worn.

Purple shirt? Purple underwear?

Yes, purple is my favorite color, if you couldn't already tell.

The Poochyena let out a yawn, stretching her legs out as I was putting on my shoes.

"Looks like you slept well," I commented. At this, she wagged her tail with perked ears. I glanced at the Pokeball sitting on my nightstand. Amber had told me that Pokemon who had undergone trauma didn't like to be put in their Pokeball. But I couldn't just leave her in my apartment by herself. I could only see one possible option.

"You wanna come to work with me?'

"Pooch!"

I took that as a yes.

Working at Pokemart sucks, but it does have its perks.

Pokemon Trainers who work there are not only allowed to have their Pokemon out, but are actually encouraged to do so. Janet had brought the subject up with me nearly a dozen times that month alone. She was never subtle about the subject. We'd have the usual back and forth conversations that rarely altered throughout the years of working there. She'd try to convince me that I should get a Pokemon, and I'd always feed her some excuse as to why I didn't want to get one. I glanced down to my Poochyena as she walked by my side.

I never even considered having a Pokemon before the night before. I knew I'd end up winning some brownie points with Janet. After making that bitch faint the other day, I knew I'd need a few.

My Poochyena stuck by my side, cheerfully patting her paws along the sidewalk, matching with my footsteps. I watched as she attempted to match my steps, treating it almost like a game. Her tail never stopped wagging. Her spirits were high, and she wasn't in pain- a definite change from when I found her.

That, and nobody was trying to violate her.

I began to regret not chasing after those kids. My mind wandered, mulling over the subject as I lit a cigarette for myself.

What would I have even done if I did catch them? Even if I wasn't planning on killing myself, I hadn't the slightest idea. It wasn't like I could beat the crap out of some teenagers. And would I really turn them into the police? They were kids after all.

They who were kids trying to rape a defenseless Pokemon, a voice in the back of my head called out to me. They knew what they were doing.

I looked down to my happy Poochyena. Who would do such a thing?

I pushed everything in my mind aside. It was done and over with. I was just happy she was okay.

Janet was overjoyed.

"When did you get this cute thing?" she beamed, bending down to pet my Poochyena.

"Last night,' I said, leaving it at that. "What aisle do you want me to-"

"Well she couldn't have put up much of a fight," she interrupted. "She's so loving and sweet!"

My Poochyena nuzzled her head into her hand, loving the attention. Janet squealed with delight. "What's its name?"

"She doesn't have one yet," I humored her. I just wanted to get my shift over with. I could see the gears in her head moving.

"What about Lily?" she suggested. "Oh! Or Better! Mayflower would be cute too!"

My Poochyena wagged her tail, loving the ear scratches.

All of those are terrible, I thought. I fought the urge to visibly cringe at her taste in names.

"I guess I'll have to think of one for her," I said.

Janet reluctantly stood back up, smiling down at my Pokemon. The smile faded the longer she stared at my Gengar shirt.

"Wes," she said tactfully, "you know how I feel about that shirt. We talked about it when you first started stocking shelves.

Oh, for fuck sake.

"I'm sorry," I forced out of me. "I won't wear it to work again."

If I agreed with my mother on one thing, it was that Gengars and their prior evolutions are essentially devils. I got the shirt out of spite years ago. Back when she was still alive.

"Thank you," Janet said with professionalism. Her smiled returned as she watched my Pokemon chase her tail. "Go ahead and start with isle 9 for today."

Before leaving me to go about my work, she bent down to give my Poochyena a few last pets on the head.

"I personally think you'd make an adorable Betty or Mayflower."

And I think your taste in names are shit, I fought to keep inside my mind, not wanting it to burst out.

I was already in enough hot water as it was.

I'd come slightly unprepared that afternoon, not bringing a box cutter with me. But, as it turned out, I really didn't even need one. Not having a box cutter ended up working out better than I expected.

A small crowd of kids, most accompanied by an adult, watched with glee as my Poochyena scratched through the box tape. Each time she did, she would look up at me, her eyes screaming did I do a good job?!I'd pet her head, her tail picking up speed as it always did when she was pet.

I would stock what was in the boxes I had her tear open, mostly consisting of small toys for Pokemon. My Poochyena stayed a good girl and not once was tempted by the chew toys. Kids would come up, usually one at a time, asking to pet her.

I can't explain why, or at least at the time, that I was happy to let them. I don't want you getting the wrong idea and think I'm some kind of dick. I was surprised with myself because I'm more often than not a quiet person; a total introvert who struggles to even make small talk when I find myself trapped in social situations.

Today, I felt a little different. There was a warm, bubbly sensation inside me that felt foreign. I didn't feel like me. In fact, I was to go as far as to saying that it wasn't me.

"Of course you can pet her," I told a little girl who'd approached the two of us. She couldn't have been older than seven, her small hand gently petting my Poochyena's ears.

"What's her name?" she asked, giggling when my Poochyena licked her hand. I was starting to wonder how many times I was going to be asked that question.

"I haven' named her yet," I admitted. "I haven't even thought of anything."

The little girl knelt down by my Poochyena, tussling her ears with both hands. Poochyena loved it, her tail going into hyper-drive.

"I have a name," the little girl told me. "I have a best friend named Cahya. She's very nice. Like she is!"

She giggled once more, assaulted by a handful of playful licks to the face.

Cahya. Cahya? I kept repeating the name over and over again in my head. I mouthed it a few times. I liked the sound of it; it was rather fitting. Different, but fitting. I looked down to my Pokemon.

Cahya.

"That is a really pretty name," I told the girl, her mouth widened, revealing a missing tooth as she smiled. My Poochyena looked up at me, as if peering through my eyes and into my soul. It made me wonder how she felt about the name.

"How would you like to be called Cahya?" I asked her.

I was expecting a "Pooch."

Instead, she damn near slammed me into the nearby shelf when she threw herself at me, licking my face like it were made of sugar. Her tail was going so far I could hardly see it; it was just a blur at that point. I couldn't help myself from laughing.

"I'll take that as a yes," I laughed.

She refused to stop licking me. I couldn't control my laughter.

It's funny how life can change overnight.