I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who's been following this story. I never expected it to make it this far before I lost interest, and to be honest, it's really gratifying to know that there are people who actually consider my lololol writing as worth reading, and it's because of you guys that I'll continue pushing this fanfic as far as it can go. So, without further ado, Chapter 24!

Chapter 24

Three Steps Ahead

The new day found me, not frolicking in the sun or anything stupid like that, but following Granny's footsteps down to the basement, taking a turn into a well-hidden room beyond the incubation chamber, while Girafarig nervously dogged my steps.

"Here," Granny announced as she swung the door open, oblivious to me choking on the dust cloud that was just released, "is where we keep our records. What did you say you were looking for again?"

"Giira," Girafarig neighed worriedly, shaking its head as it backed away from the room. It obviously didn't want me to start digging into the old records that could possibly hold a clue as to its origins, and was pretty adamant about not going in.

"Oh, come on," I sighed, "You were the one who decided to follow me, you know." At Girafarig's glare, I slung an arm around its neck and forcibly dragged it in (which wasn't easy, but Girafarig knew a hopeless situation when it saw one- even if it wasn't there, I would still be searching the records, after all.) We made our way through the piles of old ledger books and hastily written notes which littered the ground, trying to avoid stepping on anything valuable. The very fact that we managed to make it to the other end of the room, where Granny waited for us with an amused smile, despite having six limbs in total and a path about two feet wide to walk through was incredible enough.

"That Girafarig, huh." Granny sniffed disdainfully, scrutinizing Girafarig with a breeder's eye. "Well, the quality of its fur indicates its good pedigree, but it's far from being the only Girafarig I've seen bred within these doors. How old did you say it was?"

"I don't know," I admitted, glancing towards the psychic pokemon. Girafarig apparently decided to take that exact moment to examine the sole lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, and declined to comment.

"Mm, less than ten years old, definitely." Granny shuffled towards a pile of ledgers lined up on a ridiculously tall bookshelf. "They aren't that common, Girafarig- especially those with Wish- but this is just one of the twenty-odd breeding centers scattered throughout Johto, much less the world. It's very possible that this Girafarig never set foot upon Goldenrod soil until yesterday."

"It's a start," I said as cheerfully as I could, dragging Girafarig away from a nearby drawer when it looked like it was about to kick something over. Not completely by accident, of course. "Besides, the very fact that Girafarig's putting up this much of a fuss must mean something."

"Giiiii," Girafarig whined, trying to toss its head. Luckily, in the enclosed quarters, I managed to restrain its movement somewhat, so it was left to fume at me in silence.

"What's so bad about finding out who's your trainer anyways?" I asked it.

Girafarig shook its head and chose not to respond.

I sighed and turned my attention towards flipping through one of the nearest record books I could find. While I would have preferred coming down here alone with Granny, somehow Girafarig had caught wind of my scheme and had, ever since breakfast, remained firmly attached at my side, trying to lure me outside with Warren and Alex, or into the library with Tony, or even the kitchen with Gramps. Anywhere, it seemed, but here. While it had not resorted to forcefully stopping me from pursuing my personal quest, I had somehow misplaced its pokeball (which had suspiciously vanished from my bagpack sometime after I asked Granny to examine the record room) and so, here we were.

It wasn't as though I enjoyed sifting through lines upon lines of names and dates (I wasn't one of the worst students in school for nothing), and it wasn't like I wanted to spend my day-off from pokemon training sorting through old books, but I figured that I had to know. Who was this person that gave me my first pokemon? Why did they give it to me, of all people? Surely there was some ulterior motive for all this, and whatever it was, my instinct told me it was bad. And the last thing I needed while I was being chased cross-country by homicidal trainers was to have yet another disaster waiting to strike; especially if it involved Girafarig, somehow.

"So you're Mr Eldridge's daughter, eh?" Granny's question came out-of-the blue, and she chuckled when I gaped at her. "Don't look so surprised, girl. Your Dad's been an old customer at this establishment for years. Practically all the ranchers in the region are. Haven't seen your old man in years though."

That made sense. There were times when Dad would be gone for weeks on end, back when Mom was still with us, and whenever he returned, he would be accompanied by happy baby Mareep or an egg or two. Those were times long gone, and I remembered only vague pieces of memories- like how soft the Mareep's wool was, or how Mom and Dad would talk all night about his journey- but they were times when we were happy, when things were simpler. I didn't think Dad hated pokemon that much back then, or frowned that much, but I couldn't be sure. After Mom... left, those happy days had all but ended, and Dad was always solemn and serious, scarcely cracking a joke or smiling.

"How's Delilah doing?" Granny seemed oblivous to my reminiscing, and had happily tossed another book over her shoulder, quickly flipping through another one.

"Are-aren't those books supposed to be precious or something?"

"I'm their owner," Granny responded with a shrug. "I'll say whether they're precious or not. Useless, for the most part. But how about answering my question?"

"How do you know Delilah?" I asked. Somehow, I wasn't too surprised that this old grandmother knew about her- standard reasoning suggested that since she knew Dad, she must have met that ornery little Houndour sometime or another.

Granny shrugged. "You know Rose, our Houndoom? Delilah's her kid. Bred and raised right here in this very house. Sweetest little pooch your eyes would ever see."

I blinked, remembering the angry old Houndoom that followed Gramps everywhere he went. "'Sweet' isn't really the first thing that comes to mind when you mention Delilah," I said, "but she and Dad are doing fine back home, given the circumstances."

"Ah." Granny nodded knowingly, and I wasn't sure whether she knew about Dad's hospitalization or not, but whatever the case, it seemed better to let the matter drop.

We chatted briefly as we sorted through the records, trying to find anything pertaining to any Girafarig born within the last ten years. Meanwhile, Girafarig had finally given up its attempt to drag me away from the records room, choosing to settle down near the door, waiting for us to finish. That didn't stop it from glaring at me every half-hour or so, but at least it wasn't doing anything funny like destroying the record books or anything. In fact, I was surprised that it hadn't done anything drastic yet, especially since it was adamant that I should not dig into its past, but I was more than happy to not give it much thought.

I had no idea how long we stayed there, leafing through old books. An hour, maybe two. Names and dates zoomed through my mind, and soon they all blurred together. I was getting quite dizzy sorting through all this information, considering I was never good at sorting through information to begin with, and from that smirking look in its eyes, I knew Girafarig thought it was well-deserved punishment.

"Oh, well, this is interesting," Granny said suddenly, waving me over. "Take a look at this. Someone left a Girafarig for us five years ago, and an egg was the result of that. When the pokemon was hatched, it was able to use the skill 'Wish'."

I made my way through the piles of discarded books around the old woman and peered over her shoulder. In one of the lines was a name. A name that immediately sent a cold shiver down my spine.

"What in Arceus's name- please tell me this is a joke."

Granny arched an eyebrow. "Like it or not, seems like your mysterious benefactor wants to stay mysterious for a very long time."

Listed there, under where the owner's name should be was a single name written in a cursive script: Budew Eldridge

When I looked at Girafarig, it only snorted once, calmly got up, and walked away, a small smile on its lips.

I sighed and thought, rubbing my aching forehead: Of course. It can't ever be that easy, can it?

"What's the big deal about owning a pokemon when you were five?" Warren asked later as he looked up from poking Spinner the Spinarak with a finger. He lay sprawled across the guest bed in his room, with Gnat sat quietly nearby, watching us talk. "I mean, I caught Gnat around the same time. It's not that big a deal."

"I don't remember having any pokemon when I was five that weren't Mareep," I pointed out, taking care to fold my arms so that Jaws, who had somehow crawled into my lap, wouldn't get any ideas about eating my fingers. "Besides, I've never been here in my entire life!"

"But you would think that were security checks or something. I mean, what's to stop me from signing myself off as 'Warren Brightly the Brave and Unstoppable Bug Trainer' then?"

"Probably because that's a ridiculously long name, but that's just it! There were checks, but somehow, this guy managed to hack past the systems and get himself a proper trainer ID with my name- or a very good fake that fooled both Granny and Gramps."

Warren frowned in thought. "Well, I guess he's just a very good hacker."

I let out a scream in frustration, throwing my hands up into the air. "He's more than just very good- he's planned everything three steps ahead! And Girafarig won't tell me anything."

"Did Granny get a good look at the guy then?" Warren seemed more interested in playing with the little Spinarak and Gnat than my current predicament, but at least he was still responding to what I said. Which was better than Girafarig, I guess.

I shook my head glumly and sighed, slumping over the chair. That was one of the first things I had asked Granny, but she had merely told me that she was an old senile lady and she didn't remember everyone that came through here, did I think she was superhuman or something?

I scrunched my face up and started stroking Jaw's bulbous head. Tracing the scratchy surface of his skin comforted my nerves somewhat, and the Trapinch must have realized that, as it just sat still, watching me with curious eyes. "I just don't get why anyone would want to give me a pokemon out of the blue. More importantly, I want to know what he was doing with my name five years ago! There's just no point to any of this!"

"Maybe you just have a stalker or something."

"Warren!"

Warren grinned and glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. "Don't worry. If it was a real stalker, I'd beat him in a battle and turn him into the cops. By the way, I wouldn't leave your hands dangling like that."

I looked around, confused by his statement. Until a sudden pain jolt through my fingers made me realize that I had been bitten by Jaws. The treacherous little ground type looked up innocently at me, my hand clamped tightly in between his teeth.

Warren nodded in approval. "It seems that he likes you," he said.

I glared at both of them. Warren ignored me, while Jaws was completely oblivious to my inner thoughts of throwing him out the window and continued munching on my digits.

"You know, maybe you're just looking at this the wrong way," Warren said as Spinner started crawling up his arm. "I mean, it was incredibly lucky that you had a pokemon when the Sprout Tower was attacked. If not for that, you would have been unable to protect yourself, right? And since you have a pokemon, you could actually set out on a journey and stuff. It's more like a blessing in disguise, really."

I sighed, using my free hand to pry Jaws' jaws open. "Sure doesn't feel like a blessing right now when I have Trapinch slobber all over my hand though."

Warren chuckled and grinned. "Cheer up. It could be worse- you could be covered in Poison Powder and sneezing non-stop for twelve hours because you had no idea you were allergic."

"But-"

"I'm not saying that you should completely forget about finding this mysterious trainer of yours." Warren made a face as Spinarak decided that it wanted to perch on his head. "But you should really lighten up, Dew. It's not the end of the world if you don't find the answer today, or tomorrow, and you don't have to know a pokemon's past in order for it to trust you."

"Then what should I do?"

Warren shrugged. "I dunno. If I were you, I'd just spend more time with my pokemon, get to learn who they are and stuff. Oh yeah!"

I found myself shirking away from Warren when he whipped around with an index finger pointing in my direction, a sparkle in his eyes. "... What?"

"You should totally give them nicknames!"

I stared at him for a moment, and then I picked up the dormant little Trapinch in my lap and hurled it at his face. I could have sworn that Jaws let out a joyous little whine as it flew through the air before hitting Warren head-on. The boy let out a startled yelp, falling back onto the soft mattress, suddenly aware that there were two pokemon clambering on top of his head.

I chuckled as Jaws and Spinner started fighting over who deserved to be the king of Warren's face, Gnat looking on in puzzlement as the boy attempted to get his pokemon off his face. Finally, when he was finally able to breathe, Warren shot me an annoyed look before settling back on the bed.

"Anyway, joking aside, we should really talk about what we're gonna do next."

"I'm sorry, what?"

Warren glanced at me. "You haven't forgotten what the original purpose of this journey is, have you?"

I shook my head, my mind thumbing through my memories of the last few weeks. "Uh. You want to find the legendary pokemon and stop wild pokemon attacks while winning the Pokemon League?"

Warren nodded and sighed softly, fiddling with his hat. "It started in Hoenn yesterday."

I blinked blankly. Obviously, he meant the news to be something serious, but... "What started?"

"The attacks." Warren sat up, his face utterly serious. "A swarm of Wingull attacked people at Lilycove Beach yesterday afternoon. Nobody was seriously injured, but Dew, what I thought to be just a regional problem is slowly spreading. It can't be Esper, not with her attacking you in Ilex, so I'm forced to assume that it happened utterly without human interference. Something is going wrong with the pokemon, and we don't even have a clue as to what it is."

I settled back down onto the seat. "The Pokemon researchers must have some idea. Right?"

"If they did, they would have told the whole world by now." Warren sighed. "We really need to find those legendary pokemon soon, since nobody in the scientific community will believe that they even exist. Except maybe my Dad, but even he didn't want me doing this to begin with."

I frowned. "So, then what?"

Warren started aimlessly patting Gnat on the head. "We need to get to Ecruteak as soon as possible. People say that Ho-oh might have re-appeared there a couple of years ago. 'Course, this is all rumors and stuff, but it's the city with the most history with legendary pokemon. If nowhere else, that's where we'll find our targets. But even then..."

"Even then?" I questioned, not liking where this conversation was going. Serious Warren always said the things I liked least to hear.

"Dew." His voice was soft as he sat up, looking me directly in the eyes. "I think the legendary pokemon are the ones inciting the wild pokemon to attack. So even if we do find them, we might have to fight them."

A chill went down my spine. "Woah, woah, woah. Hold on, Warren. Where did you go from legendary pokemon having the answers to our problems to they're the ones causing it? Especially since we've never actually talked to one?"

Warren shrugged. "Just a hunch. But if no human is causing all the wild pokemon to attack, then what is?"

I didn't have an answer.

Nodding, Warren smiled softly. "I'm hoping I'm wrong, of course. I mean, hell, you say you saw Suicune and it didn't attack you, but-"

"Yeah." I nodded. "If we do have to fight them, we've got to be ready, right?"

The young boy glanced at me. "They're strong, Dew. Far stronger than any normal pokemon we're ever likely to meet. You can't ever forget that."

I wandered listlessly for a while, uncertain where to go or what to do. The conversation with Warren gave me the creeps everytime I thought about it, and I spent the whole day trying to forget it. I spent some time spying Alex and Tony having a pokemon match from an upstairs window (it was a Bellsprout vs Magnemite match; from the looks of it, Tony was winning) and talked to Gramps and Granny for a bit before I finally decided to go look for Girafarig's missing pokeball.

There was no doubt in my mind that the psychic pokemon had hid it, but the question was, where on earth would a Girafarig hide anything? It was taller than me, which meant that I had to search places that were normally beyond my reach, and ended up climbing up stools and tables for the rest of the afternoon to look within the higher cupboards and the top of bookshelves. Through it all, I didn't bump into the psychic pokemon at all. Knowing Girafarig, it was probably avoiding me, but since I wasn't too keen in talking to it any time soon, I didn't bother too much about it.

It was sometime after three that I finally admitted defeat. The pokeball would turn up eventually when Girafarig finally decided that hiding it wasn't serving its purpose anymore. And if there was one thing I was absolutely sure of, it's that no matter how much Girafarig didn't like listening to me, it was still adamant about being my pokemon. So it probably wouldn't run off and throw it's pokeball away. Probably. I mean, if it were that easy for pokemon to get released, life would be a lot harder for trainers, wouldn't it? The last thing I needed was for my Girafarig to suddenly realize it wasn't my pokemon anymore because it misplaced its pokeball.

I sighed, slumping into a nearby chair, and thought back on what Warren said.

It sounded so simple- getting to know my pokemon. Spending time with them. Mauve had said something similar, back in Azalea, but listening to those words were one thing and doing it was quite another. I had no idea how to begin- would a simple hello suffice? Talking to people was something I didn't have a lot of practice with, in between constantly hungry Mareep, an ornery Houndour, and Dad. Talking to pokemon seemed much harder. At least with humans, I found myself thinking wistfully, you didn't have to wonder what it was they were trying to say. Although Girafarig made its opinions known quite easily enough.

"Gii." The sound of hooves on the floorboards heralded Girafarig's arrival, and it stepped into the room with a pokeball in its mouth and that same unshakingly calm look in its eyes.

Despite myself, I let out a little laugh, relief washing away the apprehension I didn't know I held. "Figured there wasn't any more need to hide it?"

Girafarig snorted, dropping the pokeball on the table in front of me. "Gii-ra," it said smugly. Its tail chuckled, eyeing me with something like amusment.

I sighed and picked up the pokeball, all-too-aware that Girafarig was watching me closely, unflichingly, with its deep brown eyes. I met them with my own, and after a few minutes of no movement, I finally spoke.

"Are you waiting for me to do something?"

It snorted, throwing its mane before it decided to look away. Whatever it was that it wanted me to figure out, I obviously had not done so. Though it did look kinda angry at me about something.

"I'm sorry?" I apologized, though I wasn't exactly sure what I was apologizing for. Trying to find my mysterious benefactor, maybe? Pokemon were hard enough to read; psychic pokemon were even worse- you had no idea what they wanted from you, but they had a perfect understanding of every situation. Ever.

"Gii." I wasn't sure whether that was an acceptance of my apology, but whatever the case, Girafarig started nudging the other three pokeballs on my belt. A brief sensation of something warm and filling in my tummy, and the echo of Warren's words in my mind (Girafarig's work, no doubt) was all I needed to understand what it wanted.

"You want me to feed everyone now and get to know them?" I should have been mad at it for searching through my mind again, I guess, but I knew it would be a lost cause- until I earned its respect, there was no way Girafarig would listen to anything I say.

"Farig," Girafarig responded, a flicker of exasperation in its eyes. "You're supposed to know these things," it seemed to say. "And you truly expect me to actually trust you to be my trainer?"

As if sensing my thoughts, it snorted and turned to leave, its tail picking up the my bagpack as it did so. I found myself staring at it for a moment, then I groaned and followed, trying to avoid looking at the psychic pokemon and the smug smile I knew it was carrying. If there was one thing in the world that probably would never change, I thought with a chuckle, it would be the fact that Girafarig would always be one step ahead of me. Not that something like that was going to stop me from trying to catch up.

And the first thing to do that, like Warren said, was to try to get to know my team. Girafarig had given me the perfect oppurtunity to do so, and I wasn't about to let it go to waste.

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