Just my luck.
It was just my luck.
In his royal blue striped fleece jacket stood the kid who went from nothing, to hero of an entire region. The male protagonist of the Pokemon X and Y games, Calem. And he was challenging me to my first ever pokemon battle. I mean, how do you even react to that? Half of me was going absolutely bonkers at the situation, and the other half was debating whether I would even have a chance at winning against the boy. Wasn't he the son of two prominent - albeit unnamed - battlers?
From the minuscule amount of time that I have spent within this world, I knew that just asking a random stranger for a battle wasn't too out of the ordinary, at least from within Santalune. Fenway and I even oversaw a few tidbits from a bout between a Shinx and an Ekans with the Shinx absolutely dominating the battlegrounds. I was frankly surprised that the city regulations accommodate for such battles in the highly populated area. To think that society allows literal street fights to be legal for anyone to do was beyond me.
My question now was whether or not I should accept the open invitation.
I had never actually fought any battles yet, and the handful of ones I had the luxury of viewing were… one sided at best. Even then, I hadn't actually seen the full fight but just peered over when a few moves had caught my eye. One piece of information I had most certainly garnered, however, was the fact that battles were nothing like the turn-based combat mechanics within the games. Moves and their effects may be similar, but the actual battles? Not at all. They were a different ball park all together.
Rather than the strategic and methodical fights that the games would have you believe take place, pokemon scuffles were fast paced and required the trainer and pokemon together to have both experience and tactical wisdom to succeed. Thinking on your feet is key, and judging by the confident smile and furrowed brows of Calem, he knew too. If I wanted to win, I would have to pull out all the stops I had to make sure my battle came out as a victory. I did have one factor on my side at least: my meta-knowledge.
For years, I always adored playing the Pokemon games and finding activities to challenge myself. Not to the extent like I was a masochist or anything though, heaven forbid. Instead, I preferred games that had me search and come up with strategies that would reward me in triumph over foes for utilizing my wits. One of the crowning series to win over my affection was Pokemon; a game that used both tactical elements and luck to try and see if you could overcome your opponent. Due to this love of the hit pocket monster video game, over the years I began to memorize facts about each and every pokemon. Their type advantages, names, and for some species like starters I could recite from heart what moves they could or couldn't learn.
But did I really want to go toe to toe with someone who has spent their entire life surrounded by real people that would engage in physical versions of these battles? I never had any intention of fighting with the systematic style most trainers would end up learning, but pokemon have been around for as long as humans. The feasibility of someone else having my ideas already was believable, and if I wanted to hold my own in the world then I would have to break any conceptions people had about pokemon. But could I find a strategy or technique that someone else hadn't come up with over the course of thousands of years?
I massaged my temples to try to relieve the torrent of thoughts crowding my mind. Losing my head at a time like this could be catastrophic, and I didn't want to scare the lad off with my sob story. I mean, who in their right mind would believe a random schmuck that had a body that looked like a burnt slab of meat had fallen to their world out of nowhere and already knew about how some of it functioned?
Relaxing my shoulders, I gave a polite nod and held out my hand. "Nice to meetcha, the name's Norman. I appreciate what y-you did for my partner as well."
"It's my pleasure, mister. I just did what anyone would if they were in my shoes." Calem formally responded, returning the gesture with a pleasant shake.
'Mister? How old does he think I am?' I mused, a faint snort escaping my nostrils.
"No n-need for the formalities or anything," I said waving off the notion. "Calling me Norman's fine."
The teen's easygoing grin soured into a frown. "Are.. you sure the tree falling didn't hurt you at all..? You're stuttering a bit."
"Hm? Oh, I'm alright," I reassured, maintaining my collected manner while hitting myself in the leg once. "A bit rattled is all, but otherwise never better."
Although slightly skeptical at the denial, he bought my lie. "Sweet! Wouldn't be much of a battle if we couldn't give it our all! If you're up for one, that is."
As the future champion finished his offer, he stuck out his arm while whistling a call. A high pitched chirp sang through the trees as faint flapping of wings grew louder. Soon, a figure descended from the tree line, a tiny red and white bird I identified as a Fletchling perching itself atop Calem's forearm with talons firmly wrapped around his sleeve.
I inspected the bird pokemon. From the blinding speed it had already demonstrated, it was most likely already above the Quick Attack threshold. Hopefully, Calem hadn't already beaten Viola and gotten his gym badge, as Fenway probably couldn't deal with the power of Acrobatics. I'd be in for a rough time if I took him on. Perhaps facing him now wouldn't be the best idea. Besides, the idea of throwing my friend into a battlefield to duke it out with another creature seemed… wrong.
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm not too sure. I need to make sure Fenway here is down first-"
"FEN FEN FEN!" She barked aggressively, making me freeze up at the sudden hostility. Where in the hell did that come from?
The fox pokemon's back was wound into a tight coil with her hackles raised and lips drawn into a vicious snarl. All I could do was stare wide eyed at the previously shy fennekin. I hastily stuck my hand into my pocket to veil my fingernails now digging into my palm. 'Damn it, Fenway! Why couldn't you have just been shy as normal!?'
"Guess I got my answer…" I muttered. Calem gave a nervous laugh while his Fletchling squawked from the startling outburst.
"That's one feisty Fennekin, wow… so, how about we head back onto the route to keep from causing any other damage?" The boy offered, receiving an understanding grunt from me as I kept observing my pokemon. Something was wrong here, and I needed to get to the bottom of it. Now. Having a pissed off pokemon on the battlefield would make the battle hundreds of times more difficult; if anything impossible.
As Calem and I breached the green barrier and stepped onto the beaten path, my younger acquaintance would occasionally give me a quick once-over, a fleck of interest shining in his eyes. I paid him no mind however, as I was still running over mock battles in my mind, trying to analyse any viable sequence for how I may overcome the debacle. So far, to my own dismay I had drawn nothing but blanks. Now I was out of time.
Huffing at the less-than-optimal predicament, I threw my messenger bag over my shoulder, following up with rolling up my unbuttoned sleeves. Even though I didn't actually have to do this, I still felt really darn cool doing it anyway. I mean, it's like something you'd imagine back when you were a kid or something, but who cares? It's Pokemon, for crying out loud. It never hurt anyone to be at least a little stylish before a battle begins.
"So, what sort of rules suit your fancy?" I asked, subtly encouraging him to give an example to show how battles are structured.
Calem shrugged and scratched his raven-black hair. "Me? Normally I just go with the standard 'one on one' since I just have Fletchling here."
I could feel my shoulders sag in relief at the brief mention. 'Only Fletchling, eh? That tidbit drastically changes things. If the kid has yet to get his starter from his friends in the city, then there's a hefty chance he doesn't have his trainer's license, meaning no other pokemon and he hasn't beaten Viola yet! Guess my luck isn't always impossibly bad after all.'
A glint of cockiness peeked through my careful demeanor as we stepped away from each other in preparation. The battle had yet to start, and already my heart was racing as if it was that first day all over again. Now, instead of fighting a flock of pissed birds with nothing but a foot in the grave and my will to live, Fenway and I were having a friendly once around with the future champion of frickin' Kalos.
Hoo boy.
"Fenway," I called to my partner who had followed closely behind, still glaring daggers at her opponent. "You know what to do, bud."
Those were all the words she needed to hear as she dashed out from behind me and struck a strong pose a few meters in front of me, head low to the ground as if ready to attack at any moment. Perhaps I could use her ferocity to my advantage if I played my cards right. But I still needed a plan. I can only wing it for so long before our foe would catch on, considering who I was facing off against.
Calem's grin widened even further as he sent his finger forward in a courageous point, filled with his own brand of bravado. "Alright! Fletchling, let's go!" He announced, allowing the tiny robin pokemon to sail valiantly from its cotton perch.
The pokemon protagonist's eyes locked with mine as he began to recite the opening spiel to our impending clash. "This will be a one on one showdown between Norman's Fenway and Calem's Fletchling! If both parties are ready, then let the battle," He said, slicing his arm down.
"Begin!"
I wasted no time calling out my first order. "Rapid fire, now! Don't give them a chance!"
Fenway slammed her head back to charge the oncoming torrent, standing far on her haunches as the flames swelled and faint crackling purred. Calem must have had the same idea as well although taken aback by my odd callout, as he too intended to get the ball rolling.
"Fletchling, Growl!" The young man said, the previously hesitant looking Fletchling switching to a new and laser-focused attitude as it's pitch black beak opened, producing a rather intimidating caw from the otherwise minuscule creature.
My faithful companion was barely moved by the daunting threat, responding with her own, much more dangerous hail of hellfire bullets raining down upon the Fletchling.
"Dodge it, quick!" Calem rebutted. 'Not on my watch.'
"Keep your mobility and follow them! Don't lose sight even for a second." I instructed, hopefully preventing whatever Calem was about to throw at me. Fortunately for me, it looks like my experimentation was already paying off.
Instead of being able to use Fletchling's superior agility to his advantage, Fenway's firestorm caught up to the soaring combatant, a couple stray embers impacting the pokemon's flank. A squawk of astonishment and pain rang out from the robin's throat who had not been expecting the speedy attack as it wavered in the air. It wasn't a direct hit, but we had still managed to catch them off guard. Now all we needed to do was keep it that way.
Calem wasn't willing to sit around though, as his unwavering expression called out another instruction. "Try to get in close by weaving through with Quick Attack!"
I bit the inside of my mouth. 'Quick Attack, huh? His Fletchling's more experienced than I thought if it can pull this off… this could get ugly.'
One quick crow was all it took for Fletchling to become enveloped in a white coat of hazy energy, speed increasing to the point where I could barely see the blasted bird. It seemed like Fenway couldn't keep up with the speedy bugger either as it brutally slammed into her side just as I was about to bark out another order. My hands clenched into fists as my partner was sent tumbling from the impact in the dirt, kicking up dust while the tiny robin pokemon rose back into the air. Damn, the first hit had been dealt.
"Nice one, Fletchling! Go for another run the moment you get a visual!" Calem commended, giving himself a fist pump.
I winced at the predicament as I tried my best to locate the fox. Meanwhile, my brain was frantically trying to assess the damage in the battlefield and come up with a strategy, any strategy at this point.
Another scattered beam of embers soared through the air through the dust cloud as a roar of rage exploded within the cover. Looks like the fennekin wasn't too pleased at her conundrum.
Fortunately, the sudden gale was enough to break me from my stupor long enough to give another command. "Keep up your barrage and stay within the cloud! Switch to blast!"
The belch of burning subsided for a brief moment, allowing the Fletchling a moment to recover before being replaced by an alarming spray of scorching buckshot. The first two rounds missed as the crafty pokemon carefully glided around the blasts but was glanced by the third. By now the dust cloud had faded, revealing a slightly panting Fenway. Calem directly took hold of the situation, a plan shining within his eyes.
"Now!"
"Dodge left!" I shouted too late as I watched in horror as Fenway was slammed into the side again by the Fletchling, yowling in pain.
Two slashes were now visible on her small body, one on the left side over her torso and a new one freshly oozing down her back right leg. Compared to the relatively fried bird, Fenway's own damage was considerably more dire than her adversary's. She couldn't keep trading blows like this for long.
Miraculously, a red aura began to irradiate off the battered fox as she began to huff harder, coalescing into an enraged roar. Fenway's legs seemed to be fully tensed, her back muscles fully poised. Had she used her ability, Blaze? No, I doubted it would look so much like a move. Then, a plan finally began to form in my mind as the Fletchling beat its wings and white energy subsided once more.
'Work Up. She unconsciously used the move work up in her pissed state to give herself a boost in offensive capabilities instead of having to rely upon lowering her opponent's defense and reverting her own stats from the Growl and then some. Clever, and perfect for us!'
As if the fox pokemon had read my very mind, she sprang forth with a new vigor, still spraying tinder out her maw. Her chest was rising and falling heavily with every bellow, but something about her attacks seemed off. Fletchling was still getting skimmed by the relentless attack due to the increased speed of the projectiles and renewed power, yet they still had plenty of energy to spare. My patience was wearing thin for this fight, each dodge making my heart rate beat faster and faster. The enemy couldn't dodge forever, and the second there was a falter in their step, Fenway would immediately fell the fiend.
My partner continued to pick up speed, following another order from myself. "Slow down the stream to condense the shots!"
To my dismay, the attack didn't slow whatsoever. If anything, the stream was accelerating. My opponent was still staring into the sky with his eyes locked on his own pokemon, which could still buy me time. There must be a chink in the armor; a fault in the formations. Calem was just a kid, even if he was taught by prominent veterans.
I began to scratch my chin and bit my thumb. No matter how much I grit my teeth, I just couldn't make out any discernible weaknesses. Fenway herself was still running about like a rabid dog, snarling viciously as she kept sending out round after round. More attacks were landing, but they didn't do nearly as much damage as I would've hoped.
"Pull out and regroup on the other side of the battlefield!" I called. The flames still kept coming.
One more time. "You're backing them too far! Corral them to the center again!" My cries were in vain once again, as my partner barely faltered in her barrage.
The barrier of red surrounding Fenway began to edge off, giving way to the wheezing form of the fox. She curbed her pace to a meager gallop, audible hassling resounding from the far side of the field. My eyes flipped up the Fletchling, no longer stalling in the air, but rather... retreating? Why wouldn't they just attack? Fenway was wide open, and...wait. That was their strategy! Oh, and is that a lightbulb in my brain I see? I crossed my fingers as I tried to reach her once more.
"Hey! Fenway!" I shouted, cupping my hands over my mouth. "You can hear me right?"
A hasty nod was the only response I needed. "Stop firing and sit still! Trust me!" I calmly said, grip tightening in determination. Calem quirked an eyebrow at the perplexing callout, suspicious of what I was planning but nonetheless refused to comment.
Fletchling sailed gracefully in the air, not once breaking sight of Fenway despite the impressive aerobics. Their rule of the skies was getting tedious to deal with.
"Alright, once more! Quick Attack!"
"Stand your ground!" I countered, voice firm with authority. Fenway twitched for a moment before nodding her head in confirmation, leering intensely at the rapidly approaching bird. They were closing the distance, and fast.
"Hold it…" I said, Fletchling picking up speed in a breakneck beeline. My companion began to shift uncomfortably but remained in one spot.
"Hold it…" The Fletchling was nearly there, beak glowing white as power seeped out. Fenway lowered her head to the ground in anxiety and fear of the hit landing.
Closer…
Closer…
PERFECT!
"Jump and blast at your feet!" Without a moment's hesitation, I shouted the next order at the top of my lungs to my paranoid partner.
The poor Fletchling could only stare in horror as the fox vanished from view, hopping as high as she could, and spitting a hastily constructed set of embers right on top of the prone enemy. A discharge of soot and charred dirt spattered in every direction, forcing Calem and I to shield our eyes. His confident smile had now eroded into a serious placant expression, lip curled inwards with a hit of worry shining in his black orbs.
"Fletchling, take to the skies and use Ember!" The boy called out, voice deeper than the other instructions before.
The much more injured bird shot out from the plume of smoke and soot, zooming aloft once more behind an airborne fennec that was now scrambling to find her footing on nothing. 'Time for Step 2.'
"Fenway, counter with a Full Power Ember!"
As the tiny robin pokemon began to beat its wings in a swift ascension, Fenway opened her mouth once again to charge her special fireballs, eyes uncertain yet undaunting as she tumbled in a free fall. Before I knew it, both shots of fire collided at one another between the two pokemon, another explosion much more powerful than any of the other previous ones detonating. I felt my breath hitch at the swirl of powerful flames, an unpleasant sight to view for some reason.
'Stop focusing on the fire, damn it! Keep your head in the game!'
The entire battlefield from treeline to treeline was covered thoroughly in standing smoke, no wind to sweep away the screen. A perfect impromptu Smokescreen and countermeasure against Calem's own hit and run tactics that he had been using.
Instead of another order from the trainer though, I heard an amused chuckle. What?
"Well played, Norman! You really are a great battler like I thought, but I think it's our turn!" He exclaimed. Hold the phone. What the hell did he mean by that?
Wanting no part of Calem's scheme, I spent no time giving my next command. "Fenway, get out of there!"
"Fletchling! Defog!"
Wait, what!? His Fletchling knew Defog?
With a disembodied screech of understanding, a rhythmic beat of wings clapped out into the environment as an enormous gust of wind billowed along the path towards me. I was forced to hold two arms up to my face in order to just see what was in front of me. The flow was just that powerful.
In fact, it was so powerful that it had gotten rid of all our makeshift cover.
And there sat Fenway, alone on the path, panic and anger coating her face. 'Shit.'
With a mighty "FenneKIIIIIN!" she unleashed yet another set of searing buckshot at the bird, but they were too far for any of the embers to properly reach the pokemon.
"Fire at the ground again to create cover again for a moment!" I hastily directed, sweat forming around my brow.
"Not if I can do anything about it! Fletchling, Peck!"
My heart lurched at the words, sounding more like a statement that would happen rather than a command. I screamed out other commands for Fenway to dodge or any other action, but I could do nothing more than watch helplessly as the vicious pokemon's beak began to glow a brilliant sky blue and descend as fast as a bullet.
'No. NO NO NO NO!'
Then, it happened.
Fenway was shot to her side, a powered beak embedded in her cheek before being forcefully removed again from the immense inertia. It looked like a horror film was being filmed right in front of me.
When my partner stopped tumbling, she sat on the path, flopped over away from me like a ragdoll and not moving. I called out to her over and over to get up, but she barely even twitched. She wouldn't move. Not one bit.
Calem raised his hand triumphantly at the scene. "Fenway is knocked out, Fletchling wins! Great job, Fletchling!"
I couldn't care less about losing. While yes, it did sting a lot in my gut, I could manage that stinging elsewhere. Right now, my vision was trained on the lifeless figure of my friend lying in the dirt. The feeling I had in me earlier was right.
It was wrong.
I threw my buddy into a battle when I myself was unprepared and she was ready, trusting me to lead her to victory. And yet, I failed her on the menial task, and she was paying for it rather than me.
I felt absolutely horrid.
My legs shot off in full sprint towards Fenway, accelerating every time they touched the ground before skidding to a stop to kneel over her motionless form.
The beaten vulpine's form was bleeding profusely by the cheek along with two other parts of her body, and her breathing was alarmingly shallow. I couldn't even say anything at the terrifying scene, watching wordlessly as she was scooped into my arms. My lips were pursed shut, but my eyes inspected every inch of her figure for each injury she had.
I expected to have a few regrets if I were to lose against the boy, but to be beaten that easily when I was so close? No, I wasn't close. I was completely outmatched.
Shoving the bile that was building back down my throat, I popped the singular pokeball from my suspenders and tapped the button in the middle. The device clicked open and the familiar beam of light flew forth, cradling Fenway in it's smooth stream of red before retracting back inside. The lid clamped shut once again as I held the ball's button to shrink it and return to my suspenders.
'I- I'm sorry, Fenway. You... you won't have to ever do that again. Just, rest for a while.'
A sigh escaped my from my curled lips as I my eyes cracked open, trained on Calem. Despite the mild facade he displayed, when in battle, the kid had no other distracting thoughts. Even though he didn't have the most innovative strategy, Fletchling far surpassed the fennekin's own basic stats in nearly every category. Brute strength was already out the window, and Calem weaponized this fact to use a dangerous guerrilla tactic that would be able to dish out more damage than I could deal. All in all, my foolishness had led me to take on a battle that I was already at a disadvantage for.
"There's no need to sulk, you honestly had me on the ropes a few times there!" Calem commended when he saw my scrunched up features.
I didn't believe him in the slightest, but this wasn't the time to let my feelings get the best of me. "Thanks, you... did well too. I think I'm going to head back to Santalune for now, if you'll excuse me."
Turning my back on the bewildered trainer, I unfurled my sleeves and adjusted my messenger bag once again. 'She's going to be okay. She's a pokemon, for god's sake, not weak. Her pokeball is keeping her safe anyway. Stop worrying dammit. She's fine.'
As my sleeves draped back over my arms once again and I buttoned my wrists, I caught a glimpse of my left arm again. The mangle of shiny, darkened scar tissue seemed to grin manically back up at me as I gazed at it, when throbbing flashes began to overtake my sight. The skin. It… It felt like the skin was melting.
Volumes of trees crashing down onto the dead grass.
Choking on billowing black smoke flooding into my lungs.
It's still on me. I can't move. I can't breathe. It hurts. It HURTS.
IT HURTS SO MUCH. I CAN'T MOVE GET IT OFF
PLEASE GET IT OFF IT BURNS SO BAD PLEASE GET IT OFF GET IT OFF
COME BACK AND MAKE IT STOP OH DEAR FUCKING GOD MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP
…
I sat there, staring blankly at the dirt. My right hand was embedded firmly into my still exposed left forearm, nails cutting deep enough that ruby red trickles of blood swept from under them. Silvery strands of hair tickled my dilated eyes as it bounced back and forth from my strained and heavy breathing. I only now realized that I was on my knees, body wracked with constant shivers. My lungs could barely get enough oxygen from the staggered breaths that I took, making me feel even worse.
What even was all of that?
My mouth clamped shut and I looked up to see the serious expression of Calem. I mentally cursed myself as he perked up, noticing that I had returned to normal.
"I know what you're thinking, and I'm alright, I swear. It's just been a long day." I said, wincing afterwards at the unintentionally rude tone. Calem remained silent as he took in the denial. His face was a blank slate, but I could tell he was cautiously mulling over his options. Honestly, I was mystified as to why he didn't just leave already. At this point, he had every reason to. Then, the future champ did something that to this day I never understood.
The younger man crouched down to my level and held out his hand. The Kalosian's mouth was a straight line and his black eyes felt like they were peering into my soul.
At first, I misread his offering. "No no, I can get up on my own." I ground out, placing one feeble hand on my knee to hoist myself.
Calem shook his head, remaining silent. I paused for a brief moment, returning his determined gaze with a quizzical one of my own. "Then what..?"
"You're not an Ace Trainer, are you?" He quickly asked. I raised an eyebrow at the odd question and shook my head, eliciting an understanding sigh. "What about a Veteran?" I took a moment to consider my answer for this one as I was technically familiar with the field of battle, but nonetheless my answer held firm. "Then just who are you?"
I couldn't bring myself to look at him anymore, shifting my head away to look at the dirt. An internal conflict raged in my gut as I debated fiercely on what to tell the kid, but in the end I didn't have the heart to reveal my secret just yet.
With a frustrated grunt after a few more moments of silence, I finally gave my solemn reply. "A man who just wants to get back to his home. Nothing more, nothing less."
As if I couldn't have said anything less ominous than that. Calem's unwavering stare was beginning to creep me out now. He had barely even moved from his original position, only to readjust his stance or slip his bag up further if it crawled a bit too far down. As if on cue however, the skillful protege let out an amused snort and a smile sprawled onto his lips. I could only peer incredulously at the snickering lad.
"You're pretty weird Norman." He said between light chuckles.
I rubbed the back of my neck. "Tell me something I don't know, punk."
"Well, actually, I have a question I want to ask if you don't mind," He stated, his confident demeanor shifting into one of uncertainty. I couldn't tell if my imagination was playing tricks on me or not, but I could've sworn that I had spotted a hint of nervousness. "Would you…like to come with me?"
I looked blankly at the boy. "Wait, what?"
"I asked if you'd like to travel together; like companions, you know?" He added, throwing in a genuine grin for good measure.
When the offer finally registered in my mind, it took all of my self-control to not blanch. I had been given the ability to become buddies with the literal savior of Kalos. Lady Luck may be a cruel mistress, but right now she was basically whispering sweet nothings straight into my ear. This kid squatting in front of me was my ticket back to my reality, or at least best chance for a lead, and he had metaphorically handed the opportunity to me on a silver platter. If only he hadn't beaten my fuzzy little friend senseless beforehand, I would've been grinning like a madman.
I moved one leg out and shifted to a kneeling position, pressing an arm down on my thigh. "You shouldn't just believe any ol' sap's sob story after you beat them. Don't need to be a Veteran to know that."
"Then did you lie?" He asked.
I scoffed. "Of course not. Why would I?"
"I dunno," Calem shrugged, slumping over slightly in his stance. "Which means I have no reason to not believe you!"
The logic was odd but sound. Although I had left out a cacophony of vital details, I had technically told the truth in the first place. I chewed over my response, trying to conjure one that would properly mask my giddy state.
"Alright fine," I replied with a sigh, pretending to cave in. "You can saddle up with me."
Calem's already brilliant smile seemed to turn into a spotlight he beamed so bright. I watched with an intrigued smirk as the lengthy young man sprang up and performed a celebratory arm pump, raising his fist to the heavens. And Fenway thought of me as overly dramatic.
"Awesome! Here's to an exciting journey with one another, Norman!" He exclaimed, holding an imaginary wine glass for a toast.
I brushed myself off and joined my new adventuring buddy. "Have good fortune line our path, and god help us."
Calem and I shared a light-hearted laugh at the otherwise dreary sentiment, a kindred moment to cool my jets even if mine was forced. It didn't last, however, as my mind drifted back to my grievously wounded pokemon. Dread began to pool in my stomach at the mere thought of her state, and here I was, standing around instead of getting her the aid she required. I grimaced at the foolishness, internally kicking myself.
"I hate to bear the bad news, but I really must go back to Santalune now. I'd rather not keep Fenway waiting much longer." I said, turning away and rubbing the bridge of my nose.
Hasty rustling began to clatter into my ears as Calem rummaged through his pack. "I doubt that will be necessary. It's getting late, after all."
I sighed and swept my tongue in my mouth. I had rather not wished to spell it out for the protege, but he had apparently forgotten how he clobbered my only available pokemon into submission without a second thought. Hopefully he wasn't as daft as I was beginning to make him out to be- wait, what in the dickens was he holding?
Resting inside the young man's extended right hand was one of the oddest pill designs in modern medicine I had ever seen. The yellow silicon substance that resided within the jagged capsule seemingly emanated vitality. While the questionable at best shape was interesting, what truly ensnared my engrossment was the size of the pill. I had imagined the drug to be tiny, but not minuscule to the point where it was roughly the height of a penny. In other words, the thing was downright dinky.
Another thought slipped through my lips before I had the ability to realize what was coming out. "You're only able to purchase these after you procure two gym badges, so how…?" I murmured.
Calem's hand twitched at the mention, his expression matching the incredulous glance he sent towards me before curving the side of his mouth up. "You say you're from another region, and yet you know lesser-known facts like that. If I didn't know better, I'd peg you to be ex-gym leader or something!"
"Heh, thanks, I guess. All I did was a bit of homework during my recent and tenuous stay in the Santalune pokemon center. Might as well cram in as much trivia as I can before getting my keister crushed. Who knows, it just may come in handy sometime." I lied, answering almost too hastily. Every alarm in my mind was buzzing off the hook, and I was having to flex every metaphorical mental muscle to keep my poker face from melting.
"That seems to me like a reliable way to pass the time at least, I don't think I'd ever have the patience to stay cooped up in a pokemon center for too long," Calem added jovially. "I'd probably go mad!"
Terminating the conversation to keep myself from accidentally outing my largest secret a second time, I swiftly snapped the unique pokeball from my suspender magnet. Tapping the center button and flicking it into the air briefly allowed the ball to unlatch itself, spewing it's iconic red beam onto the dirt between Calem and I. A lean figure began to materialize before us, battered fur caked with blood and sweat. Once the pokemon was fully withdrawn, the ball yielded to gravity once again and plopped gingerly back into my hand. The same writhing sting of melancholy waltzed back into my gut at the grizzly scene, bile building again. My tiny companion's eyes were wrenched shut in agony, and her chest barely moved as her bleeding wounds began to trickle back out with the crimson liquid. The fact ten year olds could gaze upon the sight of their mangled partners without batting an eye was highly unnerving.
"Can you part her lips for me? She needs to swallow it for the revive to work properly." He instructed me. I reluctantly obliged, a steadfast frown stuck to my face. As the unconscious vulpine's maw was opened, Calem slipped the diamond-shaped pill into her mouth while I closed her lips back around it.
We pulled back, waiting for the drug to work it's alchemic magic. I couldn't help but cross my fingers on my left hand, out of view of the boy beside me. Fortunately for me, before our very eyes the wounds on Fenway's body quickly halted their trickle through her pelt, rapidly being replaced by a thin brown viel that parted her fur to reveal the gruesome injuries and other scars. The veil quickly began to thicken as they spread over the lacerations, her cheek beginning to look an awful lot like mine. While the fennec's own lesion was in a slightly higher spot and on the right side of her face rather than the left, the resemblance it bore was almost uncanny; a frightening yet ironic twist of fate. Dare I had said it, but she looked to be one badass pokemon.
One fact was certain, however: I would prevent her from being hurt like this with all my might, no matter what. I simply couldn't forgive myself for another idiotic and grievous mistake. I would improve my battling, step up my training, upgrade my everything if it meant the Fenway and I could get back to the correct dimension.
'Fenway… and I? Why… did I think that? Would she even agree to come with me back to my dimension, if given the opportunity, or would she be better off staying in this one? Oh, what am I saying!? I can't decide for her! She can think on her own and answer me when she comes to, even if I already know what her answer will be. But, I can't help but fret about even the smallest thing… I still have yet to actually prove that I was a good choice for her, and I'd hate to tarnish her dreams. Argh, damn it, now's not the time for this, you dumbass! All that matters is making sure Fenway is fine and returning through all means necessary. Whatever means ne-..'
"Hey Norman, what are you whispering about?"
My blood ran cold at the startling inquiry as I whipped my head up to meet the curious brown orbs of Calem, staring straight at my gobsmacked features. How much of my inner thoughts were no longer "inner"? Did he hear anything? Repressing my cauldron of feelings and sliding cooly into my usual stoney expression, I sighed.
"Nothing important, don't think much of it. I have a habit of muttering to myself whenever I tense up. Bad habit, but I'm figuring out ways to deal with the pesky thing." I waved off as if I hadn't just brushed by a momentous secret. Calem's eyebrows were furrowed as though he wanted to press on but pursed his lips to my relief. Silently I was thanking his parents for raising such a respectful young man.
After another painstaking three minutes of waiting Fenway's eyes weakly fluttered open, revealing her grand crimson orbs. By now, the evening had already descended upon the landscape and enveloped the sky, the spritely blue now replaced with a royal blend of purple and pink pulchritude. I felt my shoulders slump down as the pair red irises flickered between Calem and I fervently, scanning for any potential threats and absorbing the scene before them. The foxes' uptight body language gradually soothed as she looked over my slightly quivering smile, fur smoothing back into place to obscure view of her other battle wounds from her time as a stray.
The pounded pokemon cautiously licked her wounds on her side and back leg, gently massaging the tender area and winced each time she bent in a way that may aggravate the healing hemorrhages. I instinctively held out my hand to pet her head but stopped myself before I could offer it out to her, convincing myself otherwise. I had lost her the battle, I was the last person who should be offering that option of pleasure. Calem took up the idea anyway at my hesitation, reaching out his hand to allow Fenway to sniff his hand.
With a tentative ear twitch, the resting fox faced the impending hand with skeptical eyes, scanning them over before analyzing Calem's relaxed posture. After a fierce internal debate she placed her head down on the dirt, signalling for the boy to grace her with the soothing gesture. The boy giggled at the timid pokemon's aversion, stroking softly down her scalp and behind her ears. Fenway continued to flick her focus between the two of us, struggling to decide whether she should beg for my own affection or allow her satisfaction to be fulfilled from her previous enemy. Eventually the pokemon forfeit her suspicions, resting peacefully on the ground while receiving an angelic massage. I thought I could even discern some faint purrs from the mix as well!
Peering on at the kindred picture before me, I eyed both of my traveling companions up and down. It was only a few days into my expedition home and yet I had already acquired trusty friends that weren't merely using me for my knowledge nor had I struck a deal with them. By now I had expected to hire some sort of protection or figure out how to hijack a car for transportation to Lumiose but there was no need; I already had these two lovable buffoons backing me up.
On one hand, I knew that Calem was going to end up being a means to an end by the time I found a way to accomplish my objective. I merely wished to preserve the main plot to the best of my ability as to not further derail any other significant events due to my very existence. Even then, this reality had already deviated heavily from what I had originally come to know.
Did I really want to disrupt the natural flow of the main events of the games and anime just to ensure my return and Fenway's safety?
Honestly? Yes. I didn't care much when it came to my mess I may make in the world. I had already tarnished enough, and I may as well have continued going with where I was headed.
It's not like I'd let anyone stop me, anyway.
On a similar note, Calem had stopped caressing the soft fluff on Fenway's scruff in preference of setting up camp for the night, already withdrawing a raintop canopy to hang above his sleeping bag. Fenway had plopped herself directly in front of me on the other hand, head hanging shamefully at her side.
I sighed. "I'm not sure what you're just sitting there for, but don't beat yourself up over it. It wasn't your fault we were beaten."
An argumentative grumble was the only response I received. "I'm not saying this just to make you feel better, either. I should've known just how outmatched we were from the start, and I kept freezing during the battle. If you think you disappointed me in some way, then strike that notion from your brain. Your performance was fine."
Fenway lifted herself up and scanned my face with glassy eyes. Her shoulders had risen slightly higher, conveying to me that at least some of my sappy wording was getting through that thick skull of hers. A bashful hand began to scratch my chin.
"Try to cheer up a bit. Calem over there is going to be our traveling buddy from now on since we'll be needing his help." I explained, pointing with my thumb towards the teen fumbling with the canopy. The anti-social fox bristled, emitting a mix of a bark and yowl, eliciting a face palm from me. "For the love of- Look, I get that you don't like having others around. I understand, but you saw just how proficient this kid is in battle. The guy smashed us like a sledgehammer and we could barely stop him. As much as I hate to say it, you on your own won't cut it, and I won't be able to completely protect you either if we want to continue at the rate we'll be going."
The vexatious vulpine's ears were flattened at the inconvenience, but nonetheless grumbled a yip of acceptance. I arched my back in a long cat stretch and rolled my shoulders, rising from the ground to get to work. We would discuss our traveling arrangements more in the morning, but for now our focus was best suited for setting up camp.
I rose back up to my feet and unlatched my bag. Fishing around within the messenger bag net me the dark green polyester hammock, a sturdy and reliable choice for outdoor sleeping. Hopefully my spine would forgive me for the gruff replacement of a comforting mattress. The next means of business was to find an adequate spot to hang the suspended quarters. I found a particularly inviting area for tying the hammock a few meters away from Calem's base of operations; the trees were a perfect distance from one another and thick enough to support my weight in full.
While it had been many years since I had gone camping last, doing a simplistic task such as hanging a hammock was no trouble whatsoever. At least, it was no trouble after I had finished reading the directions for a fourth time once I realized they were upside down. Wrestling with the thin black rope was enough to make me consider asking Calem for help, but I decided against it as I wished to be able to learn on my own. When I had completed setting up the hammock, a quick bask in my accomplishment and stretch was all the satisfaction I needed before I tested out the makeshift mattress.
As I was removing my accessories to try the temporary fixture, I extracted my journal from my bag, sliding it behind the vintage pack along with my suspenders and Fenway's pokeball. Setting them aside finally, I slid my rump over the thin edge and grasped the unsteady sides having never experienced a hammock before. You can imagine my unease being held aloft so far from the ground, especially when my legs had yet to enter the polyester cocoon. I was leaning notably far to the left, scrambling to hoist my lower body inside the rest of the hammock. With one last heave, the friction between the polyester and my pants gave way, allowing my legs to slingshot inside, causing me to rock back and forth inside as my grasp on the edges transitioned into a vice grip.
An exhausted moan escaped my lips as I let my aching muscles finally rest within the serenity. Even if there was little back support, I had to admit, the hammock was still cozy. An alluring temptation sat in the back of my mind to remain swaddled in the fabric, but I cast the idea aside. There were still a list of activities I had yet to accomplish before dozing off for the night.
Swinging my legs back over the hemmed lining, I positioned myself to vacate the suspended chamber, only to recall how the hammock had no back lean up against. My error in judgement took effect immediately as the dark green polyester began to spin with me still halfway inside, forcibly ejecting my sprawling body out.
I came crashing down onto the set of twigs and pine straw with a hefty thud, a light dust cloud kicked up from the sight of impact. 'Please god don't tell me Fenway or Calem saw this…'
Poorly muffled snickering snaked its way into my eardrums, one set of amusement human and the other akin to high pitched mewing. My fingers began to dig into the dirt in embarrassment as my face scrunched in annoyance. 'They saw.'
Pushing myself out of the tiny indent in the layer of brush on the forest floor, I did my best to wipe off the loosely stuck branches and grass before shooting an irritated glare to the cackling crew. Calem's amusement died down quickly whereas Fenway was less intimidated by the scarred face leering at them. At least she would have something to think about when I groomed her.
Slipping my Oxfords back on and withdrawing a wooden hair brush from one of the side pouches of my bag, I approached the still giggling fox and crossed my legs as I sat down. I was beginning to see her more as a hyena with the style of laughter she had adopted, even if it was contagious. Repressing my own chuckles, I lifted Fenway by the stomach into my lap, allowing her to fold her legs inward as I calmly stroked her ruffled fur. Although I had noticed it before, my partner's petite physique had many stories behind it.
While I had noticed a few of her scars when we would play in the pokemon center, I had never taken the time to inspect their details closely. Minute scar tissue rested underneath the cascade of brilliant yellow fur, each varying in proportions. Most were centered upon her back, a larger unconnected web that was easier to identify through the sea of hair. I found myself growing a new respect for the puny vulpine while a multitude of questions rummaged around my cranium, buzzing about to be answered. None exited through my mouth however, as Calem trot up behind me.
"You do realize you're brushing her fur the wrong way, right?" came the future champ. "Usually it flows to the sides of the legs, not directly down."
I peered back down towards the fuzzy pokemon in my lap and my handiwork. Sure enough, in my contemplative state I had thoughtlessly begun stroking the fur down on her hind legs, the small bundles of hair around the upper thigh crooked in the wrong direction. I grunted at the realization, lip curling down.
"I could show you a few ways on how to groom fire types, if you'd like! My mother used a Talonflame and Pyroar on her battling team back when she participated in Pokemon Tournaments, and she taught me a few of the ins-and-outs as well." He offered.
A nonchalant shrug was my only response as I tossed him the brush. The young man sat himself directly in front of me, scratching the ball of fluff within her ear to grab her attention and pat his leg to signal her. The fox pokemon gazed quizzically up to me for my own input, a simple nod being my reply. Giving the protege another once over, Fenway shook herself off and padded into Calem's lap.
With a delicate hand, the boy began to expertly correct my previous grooming blunder. "Different pokemon have various fur patterns, usually dictated by their physical appearances. Fire types that have fur like Fennekin or Arcanine tend to have their fur brushed towards the back of their body, especially smaller statured pokemon."
"I see. What about the head and ears?" I inquired, taking note of a pebble lodged in the auburn tufts. Fenway cooed with her own answer.
"Usually, at least for Fenway's case, you would take a comb or curlers to unfurl the knots that will inevitably get intertwined. A few decent strokes should get the job done for now. Go ahead, try it for yourself!" Calem elaborated, extending the brush back. Fenway perked her head up, eyes glistening.
One glance into the tiny mammal's pitiful eyes was all it took to influence my decision. "Sure, might as well start now."
"Fe-e-en!" my furred companion chirped, a new spring in her step as she returned to me. Her rosy features felt like they were blinding despite the encroaching darkness on the horizon. I was beginning to wonder whether she knew just how adorable she was and used it as a weapon of some sort.
I shook the distracting ponderings away, shifting my attention to the content pokemon before me. As I stroked her unkempt pelt, a soothing warmth seeped into my legs as if a heating blanket was wrapped around me. Fenway sat without a care in the world, blissfully melting at every stroke with her head resting on my right thigh. When I moved to her ears, I found they were one of the main sources of heat, a consistent breath flowing from the flame-shaped tufts.
A shiver rocked my spine as I unfurled the knotted lumps of hair within the folds with my brush. Fenway's eyes lazily opened for a moment at the temporary halt in the massage, a hushed whimper resounding. After a quick pinch on my forearm brought me back to reality, I continued my patient endeavor of grooming. The fox in my lap occasionally yipped when a rather sturdy knot refused to untangle, warranting a murmured apology as I worked. Internally, I was thankful for the time. Even though I wasn't nearly as skilled as Calem, she seemed to enjoy my efforts much more for whatever reason. I was wise enough not to question the development, weaving around the scabbed wounds with systematic ease.
I swept a weary hand against the sweat on my forehead. "...aaaaand done, finally. I may not be a hairstylist, but at least you won't feel like a tangled wire when you stretch. Hope you like it."
Fenway popped up with a burst of energy, pacing in circles while she played with her bushy tail, nosing around her newly pruned coat. Her face lit up with glee as she sniffed all around, turning back to me with an award-winning grin that could make the devil himself blush. Sometimes she gave me way too much credit.
The fox immediately bound away, reinvigorated to explore her surroundings before bed time. "Curfew is in twenty minutes, head back then! If you don't know how long that is, listen for my yelling!" I instructed.
'I may not be the best for her, but if she's happy, I will be too. Speaking of, I still need to speak to the champ.'
Depositing the brush in the bag once again, I strut over to Calem's makeshift camp, a much more open area than mine. Suspended a few feet above his sleeping bag was a navy blue tarp, hung evenly across three stocky trees. The game protagonist himself was taking inventory of his, well, inventory when I approached, flicking an eye at first before zipping his black satchel back.
"Norman, something I can help with?" He chirped.
I cocked my head to the side, pondering on how to word my request. "In all honesty, yes. It's a rather personal question that I have to ask, and I do understand we haven't known each other for too long. Actually, barely half a day, but I digress."
"Ask away." Calem's focus was centered on me now, the bag slung on his shoulder. I took a deep breath to sooth my nerves before resuming.
"It's no doubt that the journey I'm undertaking will be an exceedingly treacherous one. So, should the situation rise, would you take care of Fenway?" I asked, studying the boy's every move. "I get that it's a lot to ask, especially so suddenly, but I trust you. I know a good kid when I see one, and believe you could bring out her best."
Calem's smile straightened into a hard line. "Of course. For a friend, then why not? I doubt I could ever fit the bill to a T, but I'd give it my all. You have my word."
My eyebrows rose for a moment at the earnest and quick answer, intrigue nipping at my mind. I hadn't expected him to answer so fast, much less with a blunt answer. I wasn't complaining though.
"What do you mean? You're more than enough to care for this sort of pokemon."
Calem chuckled. "Have you not seen the tranquility on her muzzle when you brushed her fur? I've barely ever seen a pokemon more satisfied with their life than that, even from an experienced trainer like you. I'm confident I can do her well, but building that sort of affection? It would take years, and even then that would not be a sure-fire confirmation."
I stared at my left arm for a few minutes, the words playing on repeat in my brain. I knew that she had an affinity for me, but such a stagnant loyalty? The news shocked me. No, it rocked me to my core.
Blinking a few times and tossing up my eyebrows, I did an about face towards my hammock. "I understand. We'll leave around eight in the morning to begin the arduous trek to Lumiose City. Until then, good night."
I took a couple of brisk steps, then twisted my head over my shoulder. "Oh, and, uh… thank you."
'Wow, there was no way I could've made that any more awkward. Just… go document in your journal already.'
With an embarrassed sweat in tow, I forged through the undergrowth to my own camp, Fenway awaiting my return patiently. One ear was standing alert towards me, twitching as I cracked a branch on my way through a tenaciously difficult set of flora. An amused wave was sent her way, the pokemon responding with an excited tail wag.
As I passed by my partner I bent down to scratch her scruff, snickering at the cute purrs. I nabbed the journal and ball point pen from before behind the satchel, flipping through the pages until I landed on the section I had last left off on. Tapping the pen on my non-scarred cheek, I waltzed to my hammock, sliding carefully into the folds as I held the items. A soft whimper cried from the ground as I slung my legs over the rims.
Peeking over the edge was Fenway, puppy eyes in tow. She sat beneath the hammock, sitting patiently on the ground in the dark of the night. I cast a quick glance back to my journal, then down to the poised fox. Internally, I was caught in a raging war of indecisiveness. On one hand, if I tried to let her inside the cocoon, it would make the already challenging task of writing even more strenuous, and I would not be able to switch on my flashlight. On the other hand, however, I would feel like an absolute scum lord if I didn't succumb to her precious demands.
Being the sucker I was, I rolled my eyes and patted the fabric. "Come on, bud. You've earned it. Just keep off the face."
Delight soared through the fox as she began to yip with cheer, hopping in semi-circles before rebounding off of one of the tied trees into the hammock. While the landing was lighter than I had expected, the fur-ball had still knocked the wind out of me by catapulting herself directly onto my stomach. Looks like her gymnastic skills still sucked.
My pain was of little consequence to the puny pokemon, a jolly joy plastered onto her snout as she nestled in on my waist. Within the next few minutes, I found myself stroking the silky smooth fur on the head of the slumbering fox. A content smile had crept along my face, eyebrows slack and jaw loose. Even on the relatively stiff bed of the pokemon center, I hadn't been this at ease in what seemed to be weeks.
Sliding the pen out from the pages, I began to document my travels and findings a bit more in the mythologic style that I had chosen, letting my imagination go wild upon the sheets. I felt like I could write all night, each word prompting me to continue going on. Page after page, paragraph after paragraph, sentence after sentence. I felt…
… eager.
Not the sort of eagerness to accomplish a task or set out to achieve something, mind you. No, the eagerness I felt was closer to a longing, I hope for the future. I wanted to find out just how much I could do with my new friends and see how far I could get. I wouldn't be able to do everything I would want, but perhaps my expedition across the region could alot for more than just hardships and breaks.
'Should I try my hand at some window shopping in Lumiose City? Maybe even consider taking up a few pointers in photography? Taking a couple photos of this once-in-a-lifetime trip may be worth it anyway. Oh what am I saying? I need to focus on getting back home, no matter how badly I break the plot or how many friends I make, I must. Get. Back. Calem will be fine on his own too. Damn it Norman, you never belonged here in the first place, so get a grip! You nearly died, for pete's sake.'
My expression returned to its usual neutral state, the somber reminder tearing mercilessly through my bliss. It was necessary though. Under no circumstances could I become so infatuated with some temptation that I would be hindered significantly in my pursuits. I simply could not allow that, even if it meant that I couldn't feel the sort of lasting enjoyment like normal.
I soberly recalled awakening within Santalune forest, and tasting the berry. Then, my mind flipped to today's events. Receiving the package from Looker, signing out of the pokemon center, seeing the outside world for the first time, and loading up for travelling. I reminisced on how I set foot into my very first route, and the failed training session. Finally, I thought about Calem, the literal 'chosen one'. He was much more impressive than I had bargained for him to be.
My mind began to wander, next replaying the film reel of today's events on loop over and over. It had only been one day, and yet time was hard to discern. Part of me felt as though it was just a breeze, the hours sped by me, sprinting at breakneck speeds to the point where I could hardly realize that Fenway and I had done so much within that time, exploring an entire city and engaging in my first pokemon battle. Fascination and intimidation muddled inside my gut in a cauldron of overwhelming emotion.
A yawn wracked my fatigued form, my body finally taking notice of the lack of energy present. I continued scribbling down the last figments of ideas that had surfaced before meticulously shutting the notebook, cautious as to not disturb the tranquil pokemon on my lower body. Elongated grunts escaped through my lips as I propped the book behind the pack for a second time, contorting my appendages to loosen any remaining flecks of tension.
Placing one hand under my head, I allowed the weariness within myself to overtake my sense, a smooth stream of comfort numbing each aching joint. My heart rate began to slow and my breathing became a rhythmic flow of air as my mind prepared itself to drift into the state of unconsciousness. Finally, I let go of the remaining thoughts clouding the ways to sleep and my eyelids slid shut.
That night, I would not be able to get a wink of sleep.
Another chapter done. Oh, and I have an editor. My good friend Colbyllion has agreed to help work on this with me, which should make this in theory, less garbage.
From now on, there should be less spelling and grammatical errors, plot inconsistencies, and overall crap storytelling. Expect updates for earlier chapters or rewrites. Updates will still come twice a month though.
One last note: By god I hate Looker's dialogue so much.
Anyway, if you enjoyed this, as always feel free to review, favorite and follow, and until next time homies.