XI

Shiri had managed most of her symptoms through her shift with generous–and probably dangerous–amounts of cold medicine. By the time she was able to finally leave, she felt both better and worse. She was exhausted, and as she slid into Ashton's car, she felt the chills of her fever return.

Ashton watched her fumble with her seatbelt. "Girl, you look you're going to die," he said, his brows gathered with concern.

"I'm not that bad. I think I look worse than I feel," Shiri mumbled. She slumped down in her seat. "Come on, let's go."

If Ashton wanted to protest, he didn't. Instead, he drove. He put the radio on, his usual electronic music, and made comments here and there about whatever came to his mind. Shiri sometimes responded; sometimes her eyelids became heavy, and she dozed. They arrived in Saffron City within a couple of hours.

Celadon City had banned cars, so they would have to leave Ashton's car in a parking garage in Saffron and take a train into Celadon. When Ashton shook Shiri awake, she had been dreaming about pokémon battles.

She was more talkative during the short train ride. She was feeling better after her nap in the car. But as she and Ashton chatted about their usual topics—music, work, his blog—Shiri's gaze kept falling on his messenger bag. She remembered the cherish ball he had stored away in there. He still hadn't mentioned it at all.

The train station was located in the north part of the city. Although the city was not very large, the gym was some distance from the train station. There were rental bikes available everywhere to make navigating the city quicker, but Shiri hardly felt up to biking.

"Maybe we should seek out shelter," Ashton suggested. "Chillax for a while. We know where our big blond friend is gonna be for the rest of the day, right?" He grinned.

Despite her eagerness to see Simon again, Shiri agreed to this. They found a relatively cheap hotel, opting to reduce the cost further by choosing a room with just a single bed. Ashton offered to sleep in a chair or on the floor, but Shiri insisted it was fine that they could share the bed. It wasn't like anything could happen between them, anyway.

Shiri laid in the bed with barely enough energy left to kick her shoes off. Ashton poured a glass of water for her and left it beside her on the end table. She fell asleep within minutes.

Ashton made sure her medicine was close by her, sent a text message to her phone that he would be out and about and to call him if she needed anything at all, then grabbed his bag and headed out into Celadon.

Celadon City was a weird place. It was like someone who had spent all their life designing public parks had taken to designing a city. Everything was accessible by foot or by bike. There were public benches, ponds, even a great fountain outside the department store that people and pokémon were welcome to play in. Plenty of trash receptacles ensured that there was never any litter around. Celadon's pokémon population hung around, receiving treats from people who strolled along the shady lanes.

It was too orderly and nice. Too unnatural. Ashton hated it.

With some distance from the hotel, Ashton pulled the cherish ball from his bag. He let the persian within out, and the persian blinked in the bright daylight.

"Hey there, beautiful," Ashton said to it. The persian looked up at him, almost looking thoughtful. Ashton had always wondered to what extent pokémon thought. He had never been able to really figure it out, despite his own extensive pokémon journey in his youth.

He crouched down and let the persian smell him. It seemed friendly enough, not at all like it wanted to bite or make any aggressive movements. Ashton wondered if the kid had pulled its tail or something. He stroked the persian's soft, silky fur. It was in excellent shape, either way. It seemed used to attention.

A new, concerning thought entered Ashton's mind. This wasn't a wild persian that had been caught and given away. This was a trained creature. He wondered if this hadn't been someone's pokémon before it was passed out at Pewter City gym like a piece of candy.

He stood again, walking south. "Come on, Persian," he called, and the persian obeyed, trotting after his quick pace. He whistled an old folk tune from his childhood as he made his way to the gym.

A battle was underway in the gym, and the few bleachers that were set up were already well-packed. Ashton returned Persian to its ball and settled on a tiny end of one bench, half his ass hanging off it. He scanned the crowd, and his eyes fell on the tip of a blond head which was bent down toward the back. Ashton couldn't see the face, but that had to be him.

The crowd erupted in applause as the challenger's vulpix brought down Erika's gloom. It was the decisive match; the challenger, a sandy-haired girl of about twelve or so, bounded across the arena to claim her prizes. She happily held up her Rainbow Badge and cheri berry-red cherish ball once they were handed to her.

"Thank you for your wonderful attendance today," a sweet-sounding voice rang over the PA system. "Ms. Erika shall take a break for one half-hour. You are most welcome to stay or leave now, if you wish."

Erika smiled at the crowd and waved happily as many of the audience began to shift and make their way out of the bleachers. Ashton gazed over toward the back as Simon's form came into view. Simon stood and made his way to the arena, where he met Erika toward the center. He looked a little more presentable now, his hair combed and pulled back into that tight low tail at the base of his neck. Simon had the body language of someone speaking to a person they heavily respected: he stood up straight, his hands gathered in front of him. Ashton noticed Simon seemed to be sucking in his gut, and he wondered if Simon was doing that consciously.

"Sorry about your tree," he said. He was trying to keep his voice low, but Ashton could hear him clearly.

"It's quite alright," Erika said pleasantly. "Pokémon are amazing creatures. They'll be able to restore it. Isn't that amazing?" She giggled quietly, covering her lips with the tips of her fingers. "You must join me for tea. It will refresh you."

Ashton's attention was engrossed in his eavesdropping, and he did not notice Simon's Houndoom had woven through the bleachers and approached him from behind. Houndoom sniffed quietly at Ashton's bag, then pawed at it, drawing his attention at last. When Ashton looked down, Houndoom barked loudly.

Simon turned toward Houndoom's bark, clearly astonished to see Ashton. He excused himself from Erika, crossed the arena, and was upon Ashton in seconds, his eyes narrowed.

"Howdy, friend," Ashton said with a smile, shifting his messenger bag to the other side of his body. Houndoom barked again, her pointed tail standing upright.

Simon eyed him with suspicion. "What are you doing here?"

"Taking in some battles," Ashton said, gesturing toward the arena.

"Is Shiri with you?"

Ashton raised an eyebrow. "She's in our hotel room, resting up. She's a little under the weather." Houndoom barked again.

"What do you have on you?" Simon demanded, leaning forward now.

"Patches' food, I think," Ashton said. He pulled the little bag of pokémon food out, careful not to reveal anything else within.

"Houndoom won't care about that," Simon said. "You have something we're searching for."

Ashton's mouth tightened. "What are you looking for, friend?"

"A cherish ball. It'll contain a persian."

With a raise of his chin, Ashton said, "I can give it to you, but I want something in return."

Simon's jaw clenched. "You, what?"

"I just want a few answers," Ashton said, grinning now. "An interview."

"Don't be ridiculous," Simon responded.

"Then I guess I'm keeping the persian," Ashton said. He stood from the bench and brushed past Simon, heading for the doors.

Simon followed him outside. "You don't know what danger you're in," he said.

Ashton looked at him over his shoulder. "Oh? Care to elaborate?"

Simon glared. "Why are you even here?"

"I wasn't going to let a catch like you get away. The Simon Harron! What are the odds of you being here in Kanto? I have so many things I want to ask you about."

Something like apprehension crossed Simon's face. Whatever thought had passed through his mind, it made Simon back down. "I have nothing to tell you," he said quietly. Then, a little louder, "How about we trade for the persian."

"Trade?"

Simon pulled boltund's ball out of his pocket. "Boltund for Persian. It's not quite an equal trade, normally. But Boltund is stronger than that persian." Ashton cocked his head to the side, saying nothing. Simon sighed, his mounting frustration plain on his face. "I'll pay you for him, then."

"What is it about this persian?" Ashton asked.

"You saw what happened," Simon said quietly again. "Magmar, raichu. That persian is a risk."

"You ain't telling me anything new here. I checked Persian out myself. It's totally normal. Tell me why I should give it to you." By this point, it was clear Ashton was getting on Simon's last nerve; Simon looked like he was close to decking Ashton, so Ashton decided to divert him. "Hey, come visit Shiri."

"What?" Simon blinked like a stantler caught in headlights.

"I told you she's not feeling well. I'm sure she'll like to see you again." Simon didn't even have to respond to that. Ashton spied the color rise in his neck and cheeks. He clapped Simon on the shoulder and was met with surprisingly hard muscle.

There was suspicion in Simon's eyes, but he didn't protest. He merely shook Ashton's hand off, and the pair walked back to the hotel in tense silence.