Honesty of a Thief
I sat there for a long while, staring at the small orb. I couldn't comprehend how it had gotten in my sleeve, it just seemed impossible. I never stole it, and nobody put it in- that's it! The guy, he grabbed my sleeve! But I thought he put the pokeball on his belt… Huh. Well, I might as well see if there is anything inside, I bet there isn't.
I reached out hesitantly and tapped the ball with my index finger, it immediately maximized. Startled, I snatched my hand away, and then realized a moment too late that it was rolling. It rolled the way my orange did, and hit my pack. It burst in half with a bright white light, and something took shape.
I was scared. I didn't know what was to come. Not knowing something has always been my fear, if you don't know something when you're a thief, it can get you killed. I'm not exaggerating, it's quite true. But the thing that came out of the pokeball a moment after those thoughts ran through my head light a flash of lightning was anything but something to be scared of. In fact, it was quite…. Cute?
Yes, yes indeed! The overly large spider that came out was cute! No it was not a real spider, but a pokemon. The four long, blue, one foot tall spider legs led up to a small circle of a body situated on top. And on top of what I could only assume was his head was a little hat like thing, it was yellow and if you looked at it from an angle you could mistake it for a straw hat and not actually part of it's body. Under its small beady black eyes were pinkish ovals, which I would think were the spider's 'cheeks'.
I struggled to remember what it was, and finally got up and went over to my pack, knowing that I had a pokemon handbook in there. I remember stealing it quite a few years ago, and reading it to memorize the pokemon on long nights and rainy days. The spider watched me and scuttled around as I flipped through the book that had information on almost all the pokemon but less than the world renowned pokedex I found the little guy.
It just so happened to be a Surskit. It was usually rare, but when it was in season it was extremely common. I looked down at the little thing, not knowing what I was supposed to do with it. I decided to try to get to know it first, so it would cooperate in helping me find its trainer.
"So… You're a Surskit?" I asked. Stupid question, I know, but when I looked in its eyes, it surprised me. How do you talk to a spider that may have more intelligence than you?
"Sur!" He replied, in such a jovial tone that it couldn't be a negative. I decided that since I couldn't understand it, I'd try to ask yes or no questions and listen to the tone of it's squeaky little voice to see the answer.
"Okay… So, are you a girl?" Hopefully with some information, no matter how small, I might be able to get closer to finding the trainer. Of course, the trainers in Rustboro equaled about one third of the population, and about half of those would have Surskits because it was a bit past breeding season, and the Surskits would be out of their mother's grasps, not knowing anything about the spheres that are such a danger to them. Rustboro had very nearly ten thousand people in it, so it would be hard. But knowing that the trainer was on a track team in one of the many schools here helped a lot.
The Surskit didn't answer this time, but the violent shaking of it's body made me think it a negative. So it was a boy then. Helpful, but now I don't have to call him 'it'. The Surskit started running around, scrambling across the loft at a high speed that was hard to follow. Thinking something was wrong, I called out to it.
"Surskit! What the hell is going on?" Okay, so I never was a Picasso with words; who cares?
He slowed down and went up to me. He lifted one of his four long legs and pointed at the forgotten orange. I immediately knew what was wrong. The bugger was hungry. And no, the pun was not intended; sorry. I picked up the orange and continued what I was going to do. After I peeled it I divided it into thirds; two thirds for me, one third for the little blue spider. I figured that would be enough because he was so small, but I did have the other orange and apple just in case.
I started eating my share, focusing on devouring the citrus fruit. I looked over at the Surskit when I was halfway done and got a surprise. His share was no where in sight, and he was sprawled on the planks of the loft, little bubbles coming out of a nose I didn't even know was there. He must have been sleeping, and he was extremely cute; cuter than before. I wondered how he ate the fruit so fast, I didn't even know he had a mouth! Oh well, maybe I would find out some other time.
Some other time? I followed where that thought would lead; to keeping him. I couldn't keep him! It wasn't right! But the trainer did give him to me, that logical part of my conscience answered, it would be fair to keep him. Besides, if I raise him I get extra protection from the other thieves and gangs! It was indeed the logical answer. But I could also go out and start train- no! I couldn't train pokemon! People would recognize me! Or would they…
"Surskit," I called quietly, I decided to see what he thought about it.
The spider jumped up like a startled rabbit. Realizing who called, he calmed down and squeaked tentatively. Good, I had a lot to tell him.
"Hey little guy, I need your help on something," I started, watching as he cocked his 'head' at me. "I've been a thief all my life. I've made quite a few enemies that would want to hurt or even kill me. But then someone gave me you. I was thinking if it would be a good idea to try and start an honest life. Pokemon training I mean. Do you think that's a good idea?" All that time he didn't make a sound, just listened like there was nothing else in the world. That felt really good, to have someone who would listen to you no matter what, trainer or thief, good or bad. Was that why pokemon came to us? Because they thought we needed partners? It would make so much sense.
He stayed still and quiet for a few minutes, and I dreaded a negative answer. Yes, I too, thief of Rustboro, have always fancied becoming a trainer. I doubt any child doesn't want to be one. Everybody wants to be great in some way, the only thing that differs is the person and the goal; except for most trainers, who almost all want to be a pokemon master.
Surskit moved just then. I couldn't predict what the answer would be, but I don't doubt that he understood the implications in me becoming a trainer. He would have to fight for me, being a starter pokemon. Most people got starters from the professors in Pallet, Kanto; New Bark, Johto; and Littleroot, Hoenn. But there are still a lot of people whose starters are gifts from family or friends, and there is a small amount of people who tend to go out on their own to look for a starter.
"Surskit," he yelled, closing his eyes in what I suspected was glee. I would have cheered if I didn't think that the building wouldn't be able to take it. The warehouse was old and one sound could bring it down.
"Well then! I think we need to get ourselves some trainers gear!" I said instead. I didn't have any money, but a few more things done wrong before I turn honest is okay right? Surskit probably knew that because he went over to my pack and got on top of it. I decided that I would take my pack with me, and come back later to sleep and get a fresh start in the morning.
Since Rustboro is the home of the first gym and Surskit was most likely of a low level, I decided that I should try to catch a pokemon and train to get stronger. I didn't know a thing about training, but I could probably snatch a good guide book on the way. I would sign up to be a trainer at the pokecenter tomorrow and start my honest life.
Before I picked up my pack, I suddenly remembered something. I forgot to tell the little guy my name! I looked down at him, he didn't seem to notice what was wrong. I remembered something I had learned long ago from another thief, sometimes pokemon got traits from their trainer when being with them and vice versa. If I had forgetfulness, a short temper, and took no pity on fools as my most shown traits; how would that affect him?
I wondered for a moment what he would be like. The image of a little blue spider running around with an angry look in his eyes scolding other bug pokemon for looking curiously at him then forgetting what they did to him almost made me laugh out loud. I wonder if absurd thoughts ran in my family? Possibly. And that train of thought led me in another direction.
I never had been sad about having no parents to rely on, but most orphans I have met are. No, the only thing I have ever really felt about them was curiosity, and mild at that. My life as a thief depended on trusting no one, not even my own parents. If I ever happen to find out who exactly they were, it would be just one more puzzle piece connected in my life, a puzzle meant only to figure out and then put it away to collect dust.
After a moment I came back to myself with the sudden realization that I was woolgathering and putting off what had to come. That's another bad trait that the little guy could get. If he was ever in a fight or in the wilds being attacked by a predator and he started thinking like I just did, one train of thought leading to another, going through pros and cons or just inspecting his life, he could be hurt or killed because of that. I decided I wouldn't let him get that trait, it would be extremely bad; if he ever showed signs of it, I would make sure to disabuse that kind of thing out of him for his own safety.
I nodded to myself silently and then cleared my throat to ready myself for a burst of cheerfulness. "Hey, little guy! I just realized I forgot something. My name is Ayshen, and I hope to hell that you won't forget it," I said jokingly.
He squeaked in pleasure, at least I hoped it was pleasure. He made some sort of sound, something like listening to a flute switching from a deep note to a really high note over and over again. A few seconds later, I realized he was laughing. He was incredibly cute for a bug, I think I was going to like his company.
After he stopped laughing I picked up my pack and slung it over my shoulder. He took advantage of the height and climbed onto my new baseball cap that I finally realized was still there, noticing that it's color was a blue almost the same shade as my new friend. Kind of ironic now that I think of it, but I decided I liked the new touch. It did match the blue of my shirt, which in turn had black stripes matching the black material of my cargo pants, which contrasted against the white of my extremely worn and many times washed shoes.
All of my clothes were a little big on me except the shirt, which I had finally grown into. When I finally got to the point of needing a bra, I decided that wearing clothes at least one size bigger than what my normal size was would make sure that I didn't need to steal clothes for a while, which was amazingly much harder than stealing regular essentials like food or batteries. I was always rail thin, seeing as I could rarely steal anything that is at least a little fatty.
This kind of thing always got me, people are so into 'fashion' now that they usually guard clothes and jewelry better than other things. And fattening foods like meat and junk food were better protected against thieves than fruits and other healthy things. I never bothered with stealing those kinds of things, so I guess I turned vegetarian a while ago. Actually, with how thin I was, some supermodels would be jealous.
But that didn't mean I was unhealthy, far from it. Unlike other gangs and thieves I tried my best to stay away from drugs and the like. I also picked up books on health and diseases so that I knew what to stay away from sometimes. I had about four of those in my bag right now, which reminded me that once I got all the stuff I needed and got a pokemon training and health guide, it would get extremely heavy. Best keep the list short then, less stuff to steal, more to earn later.
I started a list in my head when I climbed down from the pipe and walked out of the warehouse. I was careful, of course, to try to not be seen or seem suspicious as I walked through the city. Pokemon food would be a starter, pokeballs and potions also. A trainers belt… No, too cliché. I look for some other way to hold my pokeballs, to make myself a little different from the average trainer. I liked the idea of being able to clip pokeballs to my backpack straps, so I decided to look into it.
See, I wasn't exactly amazed anymore by the fact of being a trainer. Any nuthead with two arms, two legs, and a brain (no matter how small) could do it. That doesn't guarantee that they'll be good at it, but hey! Who the hell cares! I didn't think that I would be a good trainer, far from it actually. But being able to get away from being a thief, going through the wilds to find creatures as intelligent as me that would like to be a friend and partner, that really appealed to me.
So, on with my list. I already had a bunch of things I could use for this, my bag, the sleeping bad and blanket instead of a regular sleeping bag which I could tie to my bag, my flashlight, matches, rope, knives, and even the lock picks would still be useful! I thought about it for a moment and decided that I would add some kind of small pot to my list and a water flask. The flask would be better than a water bottle because if you dropped the water bottle hard enough it could break by itself, which most flasks couldn't if they were made right.
I was actually slightly surprised that I hadn't though of stealing a flask before, but then again, there was still water running in the warehouse. The reason for that I could never imagine, but yes the water was running in a bathroom that was still in function there. There was a small office in the warehouse, and behind a door leading from that office there was an equally small bathroom. Well, the bathroom wasn't exactly 'in service' when I moved in, but a book on plumbing and a mind good at book learning and tools did the job.
I am indeed good at book learning, and most people who live on the streets aren't very smart and can't read. But as you know, I am much different than the average thief. I was always interested in the odd symbols on stacks of paper bound in leather or other materials, and I can't tell you exactly when they started to make words for me, all I know is that when they did, I understood them and learned almost all I know from them.
The only thing the other thieves taught me were how to steal and things that revolved around that, as if that's all there was to life. But I learned the truth. Books showed me the lives of people, the showed me more what the real world was like than they ever did. They were always disturbed with the fact that I was able to read between the lines, to see real reason and be rational in unexpected events.
I was always and still am disturbed with one thing. Whenever something goes completely wrong, and not something like today's incident, but much worse, some calm part of me took over, analyzed the situation, and always found some way out. Whenever I tried to find that part of me I was always avoided, I tried to look into myself and sort out everything about me that made me me, and I never found it. It was as if It wasn't even a part of me, but something that hung in the back of my mind analyzing every thought and sometimes steered me in the right direction when needed, or completely took over.
After a while I learned to ignore it, deciding that if it truly meant for me to learn anything about it, it would have done so. Most people would become scared of me if I told them that, possibly thinking I was insane. But I'm not. I know I'm not. I think that it truly is a part of me, that it just may be a part of everyone, that guides us and helps us live and let live. I may be a thief, but I'm not a bad person. A murderer may be a killer, but he doesn't have to be a bad person.
That's my philosophy; that everyone doesn't have to follow the stereotypical route, that people who seem bad may not be bad. I guess that you could say that I'm the 'don't judge a book by its cover' type. Now that's something you wouldn't expect from a thief, eh? I'm not a bad person. I'm just someone forced into a life that I don't like, but have to live with. Could you understand that?
Well, I updated. I think I've actually gotten better at writing than before... Anyway, I know there are people who read this and don't review, and that honestly annoys me. Of course, I read some stories and don't review myself, so I guess I could be called a bit of a hypocrite. But the only reason why I don't review all the time is because I have no comment on the story or I can't say anything that hasn't already been said. I looked for a story on fanfiction that may have slightly the same idea as this story, but I honestly couldn't find anything. I would really like it if you would please review this and tell me honestly what might be wrong with the story, as in flaws, pros and cons, that kind of thing. If I don't get at least quite a few reviews that tell me what is good and bad about this story, I am likely to lose heart for writing it. It's happened quite a few times with other stories, and I am trying hard to think of something to write for them, but without opinions I can't really do much. Hopefully some people will be smart enough to take my warning.
