Isobel stuck out like a sore paw amidst the crowd of fighting types like herself. Wearing clothes while the others didn't made her feel more naked than if she was without them. And yet, a part of it felt liberating. She took off her shoes and felt the earth beneath her: hard, but cool and comforting after a long walk.
As soon as the sparring Machop noticed Isobel, they ran up to her, eyeing her from head to toe.
"These are weird," one said, pointing at the sandals in her hand. "Why do you need them?"
"Well, I just travel a lot," she said with a shrug. "Ya never know what you might step on in the city."
"You live out there?" another said, pointing to the horizon. "What's it like?"
"It's okay, I guess."
"Ooh! Ooh! Just remembered!" Machop 2 came up to her, smiling. "You must've been with a trainer, right? Ma and Pa talk about them all the time! So you must be really strong!"
Isobel flashed a big, dumb grin, kneeling down to pat the Machop on the back. She wasn't expecting such a warm welcome, but despite their confusion, they made her feel at home already. And nothing said feeling at home quite like getting back into one of her creature comforts: fighting. Unlike before, she didn't have to lie to herself that she enjoyed it, now she was with her own kind. So she flexed her back arms, putting on a show for them.
"Whaddya say we spar over there?" She pointed to a shallow crater where other Pokemon gathered to fight. "Yanno, you can learn from the best — us Machamp pounded out that arena, after all."
They followed Isobel to the sparring spot where they exchanged punches, kicks, and all sorts of other hits. She held back for their sake, but despite the power imbalance, they had fun with it, and she had fun giving them advice on where they fell behind in their techniques. Isobel had so much fun with it that she almost forgot that she came here to see her own parents.
Speaking of which, one Machamp walked up to their impromptu lesson. She initially waved at him, only to get shot down when he started cracking his knuckles — the other Machop fled at the other Machamp's presence. He gave Machop 1 the stink eye in particular.
"What're you doin' to my boy, huh?" he growled.
Isobel tilted her head. "Er, nothing, sir?"
His face scrunched up and he pointed at Isobel's sweat-stained shirt. "Take off that stupid thing."
"W-what, excuse me?!" Isobel snapped back. "You can't just ask me to take my top off!"
"No one else wears clothes around here."
"You wear pants, even though that's just your skin."
"So they're not clothes." He furrowed a set of imaginary brows at her. "You think ya' can just come here, wavin' yer outfit around like you're so special? Who asked ya to school my boy, huh?"
In any other situation, Isobel would've punched this guy's face in. But she was still a stranger here after being away for so long. Of course, if she was an outsider, they would've seen her as some sort of anomaly. And besides, taking one's top off meant something different in the city than it did here.
"I just find it more comfortable, okay? I know I don't need to." She crossed her arms, partly to brace herself. "I'd never shove it in your face and tell you to wear anything, or do anything you didn't want to, sorry if it came across that way. It's been a while since I've last been here."
"Oh, really?" He crossed his arms too, mirroring her movements. Then he extended a free hand, holding it out. "Prove you're one of us, then."
Isobel recognised the gesture as an invitation to arm wrestle. It was a quick way of testing one's strength here, and from the looks of it, this was the only way to please him.
"I didn't come here to fight." As much as she disliked pissing contests like this, she wanted to stay here. So Isobel smirked and held out an arm. "But I can't say no to a challenge."
"Good."
The Machamp huffed and crouched down, resting his elbow on the stony floor. Isobel joined him, locked hands, and the two intensely gazed at each other until one of them made the first move. The Machamp's muscles pulsed, and as soon as that happened, Isobel's arm shot down, just shy of touching the ground. She grit her teeth as he pushed with every ounce of his will — he probably could've snapped a human's arm off if he really wanted to. But Isobel pressed on, bulking up as well to match his strength.
She breathed in and out, then her body spasmed as her muscles expanded. It was painful, but it was a good kind of pain, like post-workout cramps. Soon enough, both their arms balanced each other out in the middle. She pushed against him — his hand was all clammy and his forehead glistened in the sunshine. She was working up quite the sweat too! Isobel inched his hand closer to her side - finally, some progress! It was all going her way, when—
"Is that… hey!"
The familiar voice distracted Isobel long enough for the Machamp to gain the upper hand, pinning her arm to the floor.
"Ha, I win!" he said, flashing a wide grin. "Now you hafta leave!"
"Wha- wait a sec!" Isobel said in between huge puffs of air. "I— that guy— he threw me off!"
"Don't matter. Those're the rules. I beat you fair and square, so-"
"What's this about playing fair and square?" the voice said. Isobel looked up to see that blue face, those robes, that long nose. It was a Sawk, but not just any Sawk: it was Lob!
"Oh, none of yer business, bub," the Machamp said. "This chick's not from around here, so I jus' taught her a lil' lesson."
"Me and Shy used to train her," he said, loosening his sash. "So if you want to fight a student of mine, you'll have to go through me first."
"Ah, er, no thanks." The Machamp quietly slunk to another part of the dwelling, leaving the three on their own in the middle of the crater.
Being saved at the last minute kind of wounded her pride a little. Still, Lob was here! Despite her exhaustion, Isobel got up to link arms with one of her former teachers, a gesture that meant respect between fighting types.
"That's a new look on you," Lob said.
"What, this?" She pointed to her outfit. "Well, it got me into trouble just now."
"Ah, ignore him. He's known for being a little protective of this place. I'm surprised he didn't recognise you."
"Maybe we never met while I was just a Machop. Anyway, wow, it's nice to see ya! Is Shy still here?"
Speak of the red Pokemon, the Throh walked in and stood by Lob's side. He smiled and grunted to Isobel. Lob still wasn't a mon of many words, preferring to whisper into Lob's side. Lob nodded and spoke back in the same hushed tones, leaving Isobel out of the loop. She didn't remember those two doing that, but she took it as a sign that they became closer since her departure.
"So, what brings you here anyway?" Lob asked.
"Well, that's a personal thing, but it's been so long since I left that I thought I'd come back to visit." Isobel looked back to the cave entrance which that other Machamp guarded. "It's kind of embarrassing, I know, but I couldn't even remember where this place was."
Lob laughed, smacking Isobel's back with an audible slap.
"What, you've been out for this long? It only feels like a few sunsets since we last saw you!"
"Um, several years actually."
"Bah, I don't get this time thing. Well, I'm glad you came all the way out here, and I'm happy to say your parents are still here."
Isobel took a deep breath, clutching her chest. So her journey was worth it after all. She could've hugged Lob at that moment, but perhaps Shy would've suspected she was trying to steal Lob away from him.
"Where are they?"
"Oh, well, your mother's probably off foraging somewhere, but your father's hanging out in the group space. I think something's being shown."
It was that wooden shack she saw from earlier, which also had a corrugated metal-sheet roof. Admittedly, it was an eyesore amidst the more natural-looking homes, but the building served a different purpose from the rest.
Shy whispered into Lob's ear again.
"Well, we'd better get back to the training grounds. We have more to teach."
"Alright then," Isobel said, linking arms with the two of them. "Nice to see both of ya'."
"And you," Lob said. Shy grunted to the same effect, and the duo left together, holding hands. Not just that, they gripped themselves tightly around one another, as if it was a matter of life or death. So they truly were a lot closer than before. That gesture meant similar things both in her world and the human world.
Huh, good for them. It didn't even occur to her that they had a thing together, back when she was a Machop, but the signs were there. The two would often spar with each other a lot. They'd also look at each other for long periods of time when Isobel was training under their supervision. She couldn't tell if they were hiding, or if their feelings for one another were still growing back then.
Isobel looked on, yesterday's warmth spreading through her body. She thought about Admirari at first, and how that long chat brought out something in her that was hard to place. Then her mind drifted. What was it, exactly? What about other Pokemon she saw? Well, there was that one fashion magazine Isobel bought sometimes, and she often admired how the Gothitelle looked in there even if dresses weren't exactly her thing. But was that the same thing? And of course, there was the Medicham in her old team: Emi.
Not right now — she was getting distracted. No point in dealing with that hot mess at the moment.
And so, Isobel walked to the communal space, passing by the stone statues along the way. Some of them were abstract, like pebbles stacked atop each other or big rocks carved into different shapes, but others stopped Isobel in her tracks. There were a few amidst the weird formations that could've passed as art pieces, as they featured etchings of all different sorts of Pokemon here. She even saw one of herself, or rather, another Machamp. This was probably the doing of one of the Gurdurr or Conkeldurr here, since it was a way for them to practise and strengthen themselves.
Isobel continued her path to the building until she was within arm's length of the shack — echoes of punches and kicks resounded through the walls. It sounded like they were fighting, but if that was the case, then the whole building would've been levelled to the ground by now. As she walked, her heartbeat thumped faster and faster, like the pounding percussive score in the background.
Her hand reached for the wooden gate, then pulled back.
Deep breaths, Isobel. Deep breaths.
Right. Isobel gently pushed the door open and entered.
Many fighting types, like her kind, amongst many others, congregated around a TV at the end of the room. A Machoke huffed and puffed as he rode on a training bike fixed to the floor, which was connected to a generator, and therefore powered all the other devices in the room. Never mind where they got that equipment from, though it wasn't entirely out of the question for them to borrow from humans. It looked nice regardless, and quite homely. Fairy lights ran along the ceiling. A stack of videotapes sat atop a CRT TV in the middle of the room. A martial arts film played, which was—
Hey, that was Game of Life! That was the film that featured that human, the one who fought against other fighting Pokemon! He was fittingly nicknamed Hitmon Lee, who was a visionary of his kind. His films typically featured Machoke and Machamp and all the like in various setpieces, and had a lot of inspirational quotes to his name. He once said that fighting was like speed chess, though Isobel didn't really get that one. Not that she got chess to begin with.
Isobel sat alongside the other fighting types, attention divided between the screen and the audience. This film featured Lee infiltrating a rival dojo in an effort to uncover a conspiracy by the Machamp to shut down his martial arts school, though the story was more of an excuse for the fights. The human did all of his own stunts, and it showed. The way he weaved, dodged and countered his opponents was impressive, despite the severe power imbalance. She read that the Machamp were instructed to hold back, but their power was still unparallelled even under a handicap. He reminded Isobel of Gloria in some ways. Everyone in the shack watched with reverence, talking among themselves and expressing their surprise at the human's agile nature.
Isobel thought about filming a quick video on her phone for the PokeJobs thing. If people had the same reaction to her fighting demonstration as the Machamp did to the TV screen—oh boy, this was a great scene. Lee was pitted against three bulked-up Machamp, flanking him from all sides. How was he gonna get out of this— oh, he crouched just as they pounced towards him, and they ended up drop-kicking each other and flying everywhere and—
Right, Isobel was there to find Dad. It was easy to lose herself in the excitement. But how could she find him when the backs of their heads all looked the same? She didn't exactly have a family photo to use for reference. And yet Lob recognised her just fine, so what was wrong with her?
Her gaze drifted to a family of three huddled next to each other against the right wall: a Tyrogue, a Hitmonlee, and a Hitmonchan. So Lob and Shy weren't outliers here, it seemed. That brought a wave of comfort, but a cloud also hovered over Isobel as the Hitmonchan leaned down to whisper in the Tyrogue's ear. He laughed, and hugged one of his two fathers.
Isobel clutched herself with all four sets of arms. She never thought about raising a family of her own, and probably wouldn't anytime soon, but she imagined herself in that Tyrogue's non-shoes. Was he raring to go on a journey, just like she was back then? Did she remember hugging her parents like that? At times like this, Isobel wished she was a Machop again.
When the soundtrack boomed, however, Isobel stopped looking at them and glanced back at the screen. This scene was just about to reach a key part: Lee against one Hariyama, the head honcho of the antagonising dojo. He actually spoke, though the voice was human and dubbed over, not matching the lip flaps. Isobel tried to stifle her laughter as she got an odd look from a neighbouring Makuhita viewer — that and the rest of the Pokemon here didn't seem to care about this editing goof.
The Hariyama spoke of honour and personal strength, commending the human on his abilities to face his forces, while challenging him to a final fight to personally prove his worth to him. So the stage was set. Lee ran towards the Hariyama. The Hariyama ran towards Lee. They were about to exchange the first blow, throwing a—
The TV went off and everything went dark, to the widespread commotion of the audience. In the half-light from the window, the Machoke had stopped powering the bicycle and was slumped over on the floor, panting and sweating.
"Hey!" one Makuhita yelled, standing up, "it was just gettin' good! What's wrong with you?"
"S-sorry…" the Machoke said in between breaths. "So… weak… can't…"
"I'll say!" one Timburr pointed a branch at him. "C'mon, I'll poke ya belly if you don't get a move on!"
"But… wait…"
The younger part of the audience booed him, while the older Pokemon stepped aside and either tried to calm them down or just eyed the scene with ire. One Machamp, however, stepped in front of the crowd and smiled.
"No worries, guys!" he boomed, then turned to the perspiring Machoke. "I'll take it from here, okay?"
"You… you sure, Gawain?" the Machoke said, deflated.
"Yeah, positive. Take a break for now." Gawain tapped his cheek twice, then pointed to the corner of the room. "Though you'll have to do a lot of push-ups later to make up for it, got it? Can't have you slacking off then."
The Machoke groaned, then slowly nodded as he slunk to the quiet part of the room. The others looked at him with ire, but once Gawain pedalled the bike again, the crowd settled down and the TV powered back up, going back to the moment where the human and the Hariyama were about to trade blows. The Hariyama hit first and the human fell down, but the Hariyama stepped aside, allowing the human to get back up to fight. Even he had a code of honour, it seemed.
Everything went by so quickly for Isobel, it only gradually sunk in that Gawain was her father. In all the excitement, on screen and in the flesh, Isobel forgot who she was for that moment and just felt in tune with the rest of her dwelling — the way she used to feel when she lived here before. She gave Dad a knowing look, as he didn't struggle at all while on the bike, and he gave one back to her with a wide smile. So, he knew too.
Perhaps he didn't want to interrupt the fun for the rest of the group. Isobel was fine with that — she could wait. She wondered where Mum was. For now, Isobel enjoyed the rest of the film, where the human got to keep his dojo, the Hariyama formed a partnership with him, and everything ended on a happy note.
Finally, Dad got off the bike and gestured Isobel to follow him outside the shack, which she did. Before she came here, she had hesitated, but now her heartbeat steadied, she was ready to face him. They stared at each other, not saying anything at first. Isobel didn't know what to expect — not exactly the dramatic reunion she envisioned. But Dad approached her and pulled her in for a gentle hug, and she did the same.
"Welcome back, Kit," he said.
Kit? That wasn't her— oh, wait. It was her birth name.
"Thanks, Dad," Isobel said. The top of his mohawk-growth touched her forehead. "Looks like I've outgrown ya."
"Yeah, far from the scrawny little champ you were before." He chuckled without a shred of embarrassment in his voice. "But can you lift me up like this?"
Out of the blue, he grabbed Isobel's waist and lifted her up to his shoulders. She certainly wasn't prepared for that, but wow, when was the last time she felt like this? Even though there were lots of things she wanted to say to him, she just laughed for now as she tried to keep her balance.
"Ah, I've missed doing this with you," he said, walking with Isobel in tow. "You might be taller, but you're still the same Machop I know."
"Aw, c'mon, Dad, don't embarrass me as soon as I get here!"
"I'm just kidding. But I'm just really glad that you're back — I've been dying to hear from you."
"Good thing I'll have a lot to talk about then, eh?"
"Exactly. Oof, actually, you're heavier than I thought."
Dad lowered Isobel and she climbed down. Something about that comment struck her as off. She wasn't gaining weight, was she? Isobel dropped the subject as the two entered the stone settlement.
It seemed quite small for the both of them from the outside, but on the inside, there was enough space for more than two Machamp. It was a lot more basic than the shack since there was only a hearth in the middle of the hut and beds made out of clay, mud, and moss. But there were also stacks of items from the outside world, including a pile of blankets next to the beds, magazines centred around the league, souvenirs of several Galarian landmarks, and a photo of…
"That's me."
A magazine cut-out was pasted on one of the stone walls. It looked rather lumpy since there was a lot of dried glue underneath, and damp since it was exposed to the elements, but indeed, Isobel was on it as her old Machoke self, posing with Gloria from one of their winning league matches in Stow-On-Side. It was a proud moment since they were amongst the top competitors for that tournament.
"You... you've been following me? All this time?"
"Well, yes, of course!" Dad said, sitting at the edge of the bed, "how could I forget about you?"
It was more the other way around. Her stomach churned at the thought of that, and of every excuse she made to avoid coming back to her parents all this time. Or, one parent in this case. He didn't mention Mum for whatever reason, but she had a hunch about why that was.
But now you're here. And now you need to suck it up and tell 'im what's on your mind, okay?
Isobel took a deep breath and sat on the floor next to the firewood. She didn't want to bring up the fact that she left that lifestyle behind, not just yet, but she didn't know where to start.
"Sorry," she said, snickering. "There's so much to talk about, I… Well, I dunno, if you've been watching me through those magazines, then you must've known what it was like for me. Not that I know what they even talk about."
"I recognise some of the words and numbers," Dad said, thumbing through the pages. "My time with my trainer taught me a little. So, she called you Isobel, huh?"
She nodded.
"Well, you'll always be Kit to me."
Isobel couldn't help but be a little annoyed, but it was just a minor quibble. If anything, Dad was the one that was a bit disappointed, from the way he glanced at the floor. This didn't last long as he closed the magazine.
"Not many trainers make it past a certain amount of gyms, and yet the amount of wins you pulled off is impressive." He tossed the papers aside and gave a wistful smile. "I wish I could've seen it myself."
"That's easily done," Isobel said, digging into her pockets to retrieve her phone, which she turned on.
"Oh, that's what those phone-things look like nowadays?" Dad leaned in, tracing his finger along the grooves of the cracks. "Is it supposed to have that feature?"
No, it wasn't — she couldn't afford a screen repair, but that wasn't the point. She looked through her archived videos for a match she could show him, and eventually came across one where she took on a Tyranitar as a Machoke. Despite the type matchups already being in Isobel's favour, facing something almost double her size was still a feat.
The fight started as soon as the video played, where the Tyranitar threw a rock at Isobel.
"Mighty big rock," Dad chimed in.
She punched it to pieces in the video and shrugged it off as if it was nothing. Yet her current self nursed her hand. "Yeah, and it hurt."
Her video-self rushed in, dodging the other rock that came her way, and she punched the soft spot on the Tyranitar's exposed belly, knocking them backwards. They retaliated by stomping the ground, shaking it where Isobel stood and giving them enough time to try and punish her. Even after one hit from their big, carapaced fist, she got up with a smirk and continued fighting.
Isobel and her opponent went back and forth as her Dad commented on the match, as if it wasn't a foregone conclusion. He showered her with praise, at least, the recorded version of her, and it was nice to hear that for a second. That feeling of elation didn't last long. The Isobel in that video and the Isobel now were two completely different Pokemon, not just because of the extra pair of arms.
It didn't matter as either way, Isobel came out on top, and Dad clapped, handing the phone back to her.
"That was fantastic!" He patted Isobel's back. "Oh, you've gotta tell me more! Or show me more! I could watch your fights for ages!"
Isobel glanced at her phone's battery: still a good chunk of time left before it ran out. She wanted to keep some juice in it in case of emergencies. But in any case, she cycled through more of the clips, including a match against a Lucario, whose spikes always gave her a problem, an Incineroar touring from another region with their trainer, and even a Sirfetch'd, which was more of a fencing match than a fist fight. As her and Dad gave a running commentary on those battles, gradually, the two leaned into one another, until Dad had his arms wrapped around her, and Isobel's arms around him as well.
Finally, she felt like she was at home again. It wasn't just nice to take a trip down memory lane, Isobel was a part of a bigger whole. Would it be so bad if she moved here? She'd probably have food sorted. She didn't have to worry about where to get her fighting fix, since that would've been all around her. She'd be with other Pokemon she knew, and had known even since the day she was born. And she'd still be able to train other Pokemon if she did the same thing Lob and Shy were doing. And if the debtors came, they wouldn't find her here, right?
"You're a good fighter now, Kit," Dad said, squeezing her arm. "To be honest, I kind of had my doubts, but I think going with a trainer has done you well."
He had his doubts? "O-oh, so you weren't sure about me, huh?"
"Oh, no, it's not that." He smiled. "Of course, you would've gotten better as you got older anyway, and you did. That's why I looked at most of your results." He shrugged. "Really, that's the only reason I bother going outside the dwelling anymore, to get those mags."
"Well, glad to hear that, I guess."
"Though—" he frowned—"I haven't heard much since that battle in Circhester against that Rime guy."
He really didn't know. Their presence in the papers was really more of a statistic than an announcement, as only the top, top trainers got close to becoming stars in the league. They were never really interviewed on the matter. While that battle was mostly the point where the league became pointless for her, Isobel didn't just suddenly leave after that — she waited until the timing was right before her and Gloria discussed it. But why was that? When was that? It was on the tip of her tongue, but—
No. Isobel shifted away from Dad's embrace and gave him a look, who in turn, looked at her with hesitant confusion. She didn't have to tell him she left her trainer — not after he buttered her up for so long.
You'll regret it if you don't tell him the truth.
She sighed and took a deep breath. Time to tear off the band-aid.
"I stopped participating in the league some time after that fight," Isobel said at last.
"Oh." Dad cocked his head. "You… did?" He rubbed his chin in puzzlement. "You seemed so eager to get out when you were a Machop."
"I know that..." Isobel rubbed her arms. "And then I grew up."
Dad snickered, though it was devoid of humour. "Grew up? Come on, training isn't something you grow out of — it's in our lifeblood!"
"I know that too…" The air felt colder, either due to the wind blowing from outside or the change in atmosphere in this room. "I mean, I like fighting. In fact, I love it."
"So why'd you quit?"
"I didn't quit fighting itself." Isobel huffed, trying as hard as she could to not raise her voice. "I enjoyed the fighting, but not the league experience. I thought you'd get it, of all Pokemon. You and Mum went through the same sorta thing as me, right? So didn't you get tired of it at some point too?"
"You're talking to someone who bumped shoulders with the Elite Four!" Dad said, raising his biceps. "No, I never got tired of it. I loved the spotlight, the feeling of fighting for my trainer, the sweat in the heat of the match, the glory of it all."
She pinched her leg. She wished she had lied instead. "Then, what led you here? Didn't you quit as well?"
Dad dropped his cheerful facade for a moment and crossed his arms. "No, I was with him until the day he retired, then I settled back here. I never abandoned him."
Now Isobel's blood turned to ice. "So you're saying I abandoned mine."
"N-no, that's not it—" Dad stopped, rubbing his head with all four hands—"I'm, well, I'm just confused. Was she bad or somethin'? She always seemed nice, and she had a mean high kick."
"It wasn't because of her, Dad." She sighed, tracing a hand over her chest. "She was, um, great. More than a trainer, actually, a true friend."
"Now I'm even more confused here!" He shrugged both sets of arms. "She was a good fighter and a decent gal… so, why leave?"
Isobel dragged another deep breath, trying to figure out what to say next. If he didn't ever have to question his own place in the world or what staying with a trainer really accomplished, then would he even understand her at all?
"Y'know, there's more to life than bein' with a trainer. I wanted to eat and drink whatever I wanted, travel wherever I wanted, do what I wanted, like Gloria did." She tightened the grip on her shorts. "Yet I was stuck with her."
"Stuck with her? Now come on, you make it sound like she was just some pest." Dad scoffed. "You knew it would be like this, goin' with a trainer. They cook for you and help you train in return for helpin' them, of course, you can't just do whatever you want while you're with 'em."
"Why not?" Isobel slightly raised her voice, which she caught before her volume got even louder. "Did I hafta be her lapdog the whole time I was with her, then?"
He grimaced. "H-hey, that's not what I meant."
"Alright, Gawain." Isobel tapped her foot on the stony floor. "Because you make it sound an awful lot like I wasn't loyal to her. Sorry I wanted a life outside of followin' her dreams, like, I dunno, her becoming a gym leader!"
She stood up, realising what she just said. That was why Isobel left. Or at least, that was the catalyst for it.
Dad also stood up, raising his hands. Excitement was written all over his face, which was quickly erased when Isobel's words fully sunk in. "But that sounds awesome! I would've killed to have been a gym leader's Pokemon! Why would you give that up to do, er, whatever on earth you're doing now?"
Isobel threw her sandals to the floor. "Because that woulda been the death of me, you fuckhead!"
She covered her mouth as soon as she shouted it out. That disarmed Dad, completely stunning him into silence.
Shit. She had to go all in, didn't she? But not like this. Not so soon. Not so suddenly. Still, Isobel couldn't stop the storm brewing inside of her, as those words opened up a whole can of Wurmple for her. She tightened her hands into fists, and the urge to level this whole stone building to ruins rose like billowing smoke.
Yeah, beat the shit outta him!
Isobel relaxed her grip. That was a sign her emotions were getting out of whack, and she could control this — she didn't need to listen to that hairy moptop in her head all the time. Instead, she listened to herself.
What was she doing here? Dad clearly didn't accept her, and it seemed like he was set in his own ways. This was exactly what she was afraid of, being misunderstood by her own old folks. But some part of her hoped they would listen, that they would hold her, that they would tell her how to fix all of her problems and give her a place to crash. Above all, she just wanted a place that truly felt like home.
Stupid. She was stupid. Stupid for thinking they'd just welcome her with open arms after all these years, and stupid for trying to dodge her responsibilities back home. She would just return to her flat with her tail between her legs, waiting for the call that would set back an entire month's worth of a paycheck. She would get through it, sure, but she'd just take on another job she hated to cover all of it, the only sort of job she was good enough for. She—
"Kit?" Dad asked, tilting his head. He wasn't angry at her, but even so, she couldn't stand being in the same room as him anymore.
"It's not Kit anymore." She walked towards the stone door. "It's Isobel, now."
She looked back long enough to see him reach out to her. He kept his arms in the air for a moment, then he brought them back to his lap, and he looked down at his feet.
As soon as Isobel turned around, her face scrunched up, away from Dad's sight. "I-I'm sorry."
And with that, Isobel slunk out of the hut.
Isobel aimlessly walked through the dwelling, ignoring the passersby as she retraced her steps back to the cave path. This was a mistake. All of it. She thought she would've gotten over it by now, but she didn't know what she didn't want until she regretted it. She didn't even care about seeing Mum — she wouldn't have understood either.
Eventually, Isobel found the entrance, where Bronze and that guard sat, mulling over a pile of cards on the ground. Bronze stood up as soon as he caught sight of her.
"Oh hey, did you find your…" He cocked his head. "Isobel?"
Isobel hugged herself with both sets of arms, approaching the dwelling's exit. "Let's just go, Bronze."
"W-wait!" He glared at Isobel, hackles raised. "What's wrong?"
She dug her fingertips into her skin. "Look, I really can't deal with this right now. I'd rather not talk about it."
The other Machamp hurriedly gathered the cards up in a pile and stood, facing Isobel. "If something bad has happened, I'd rather know. Was it Kuro again?"
"Kur—" Isobel shook her head. "No, nothing like that." As pent up as she was, as hot as her head felt, and as fast as her heart beat, that question disarmed her long enough to calm down a little. "I met my dad, okay? He didn't do anything, I'm the one who's got beef with him."
Bronze whined, looking to the ground. "Sorry to hear that. And your mother?"
"Doesn't matter." Her voice cracked as she said that. "I don't even know why I came here."
"W-wait!" he pleaded to Isobel, his hackles raised. "What happened between you and your father?"
"Bronze, just—" She would've told him to stop, but that wouldn't have solved anything. She didn't need to have another shouting match with someone she cared about.
"You can talk to me, you know." Bronze traipsed over to Isobel's side, brushing her leg with his tail. "I might not know everything about you two, but I'd understand. I can sense it's about your trainer."
Isobel took a deep breath and knelt down to his side. Bronze looked back at her with those big, amber eyes of his. It was hard to say no to that face. Sure, there was a chance that Isobel would go through the ordeal all over again if she tried to explain her side to Mum, but then again…
You can't keep running. You'll regret it if you do.
Right.
"Sorry." She stroked his ears. "It feels like you've done a lot to help already."
"Well, you helped me." Bronze sat up on his haunches, back straightened. That, coupled with the moustache, really made him look like a gentleman. "Even if friends aren't much of a concept where I'm from, I consider you a good friend at this point."
Isobel wasn't going to cry again, even if her heart still felt heavy. However, she pulled Bronze in for a hug, squeezing him tightly with the force expected of a Machamp, but with great restraint at the same time.
"I just wanna know why I'm still not happy, the way I am, y'know? I just feel so childish…"
"Isobel…" He said softly. "We… we have lots of reasons to be unhappy, okay? All around, humans just have it so much easier than us. The fact that we've gotten this far is amazing."
"Yeah, I guess so…"
She held him for as long as she needed to, until the storm within her subsided. Finally, she stood up, fixing her gaze on the Machamp. "What's your name, sorry?"
"Wymond."
"Right, Wymond, where's Mum, or, er, Terra?"
"Terr—" His eyes widened. "Oh, right! Her! I don't see her around that much anymore, though I did see her today."
"Ah, cool. Y'anno, I don't think Dad— I mean, Gawain, really mentioned her."
"Oh." Wymond placed a hand under his chin. "They don't talk that much anymore either."
So, her hunch was right. Those two had split apart. Even though she didn't know those two well enough anymore, that was still another blow to her gut. But knowing that, she definitely couldn't chicken out now. Isobel had to at least ask her what happened between them.
"Alright. Where is she?"
"I don't know in particular, but this would be my first guess."
Wymond pointed to the forest near the dwelling. The trees rose above the cliff, further up the mountainous area where the ground sloped up a hill. She recognised that place, as that was where the wild Pokemon not of this dwelling roamed. Right, of course, if Mum was a gatherer, that's where she would most likely be.
"I hear she tends to a pack of Thievul, actually."
Bronze squeaked at that, and immediately ran back to Wymond, tail wagging like a propeller.
"Oh, please, let me through! I've been picking up their scent all this time, and you know I've been struggling as well, without family and all that!"
"Yes, but…" Wymond sighed. "I sympathise, furred one, but the others might think you're there to steal their food, or harm them otherwise."
"But you know me by now, don't you?" His ears twitched. "They'll know if I have your blessing. And I keep trying to tell you, I'll be with her anyway." He tilted his head to Isobel. "You'll back me up, right?"
He… what? Come to think of it, Bronze never told her why he wanted to come with her, but she just respected his privacy as long as he kept her company. Even so, it made sense that Bronze wanted to see his own kind, so of course, she was willing to cover for him.
"Y-yeah." Isobel stepped forward, leaning down to pat Bronze's back. "This means a lot to him too, y'know. So, pretty please?"
He deliberated on it for a moment. Wymond shuffled his cards again, and his other set of arms scratched the back of his head. Finally, he nodded.
"Alright. But a fair warning for both of you. There's a Pangoro out there, and he isn't to be messed with. And, well, he's not a part of this place, so he won't listen to reason, okay?"
So that must've been Kuro. It was weird to think of another fighting type that had nothing to do with the dwelling, but sometimes, random encounters like these were part and parcel of travelling through the routes. But this wasn't a route, it was a part of the wild that wasn't barricaded by rangers or trainers. Anything could happen out there.
"Are you ready?" Bronze asked.
Isobel sighed. She didn't realise her sandals were missing until now, and getting them back meant going to Dad's place again, which she didn't want. Yet, after a while of not wearing them, she had gotten used to the tactile feeling of the cool ground beneath her and its many grooves and curves. She thought back to what that Machop said. Despite her reasoning, she truly didn't need to wear them. Only the humans in the city bothered, but there was a stigma surrounding those without them. They were considered poor, or unclean. Perhaps by association, she thought they'd project the same baggage onto her.
But she was about to go in the forest without them. Though, if her kind didn't go in there wearing anything, why did she need to? After a few seconds of deliberation, she looked to Bronze.
"Yeah, lead the way."