Morning woke her to shivers and a massive headache. Her entire body shook, and her head felt like it slept next to lava.
She couldn't believe it! Was she sick? Now? Two months before the Qualifiers?!
Her pokemon sensed something was wrong. Her Dodrio, the guard for the night, peeked into the tent with one head. Luckily it was the sad-faced one.
"Hey. I..."
Her sneeze scared it behind the curtain of the tent.
"I think I'm sick. We need to get to a PokeCenter, soon." Dodrio's three heads crowed simultaneously as she gathered everything together.
The three-headed pokemon kept watching as she swore in frustration over the tent.
"Why did I have to buy the worst tent ever made? Easy to build, it said. Never said anything about taking it apart again..."
After a few sneezes and the snapping of parts, the tent was packed. Slowly, almost in a haze, Delia slipped on the simple saddle for her bird and rode Route 3 to Pewter City.
When Delia rode, however, she rode faster than an eye can blink. She never liked flying, so she decided to ride the most unconventional bird for the challenge when given the idea. Of course, a Doduo walked across her path as she tried removing a rock from her shoe.
After training it to battle and carry a saddle, she used her Doduo, and eventually Dodrio, as a two-legged all-terrain supercar, jettisoning her across the map of Kanto. Within months she had seen every corner of the map, seen every cliffside and forest, cave and mountain.
All of that cold, sharp air, long days of training, and short nights must have gotten to her. She put all her effort into her grip on the reins, forcing herself to sit straight and hold on for dear life.
Within minutes, Dodrio had stopped in front of the Poke-Center and cooed at its trainer. Delia slumped off of her ride, called it back into its comfortable ball for a rest, and barely made it to the front desk.
A young girl, dressed in pink and white, turned her chair to greet the new trainer.
"Name please?"
"Delia Arvaniti. You?"
The question shocked both of them.
"Oh, um, Joy. You can call me Nurse Joy. What can I do for you? Would you like to heal your Pokemon?"
Delia slumped forward onto the counter.
"Can I get a doctor? I think I'm sick."
Nurse Joy did a double-take and noticed Delia's chills.
"You definitely look sick. I'll see if there's a specialist available. Just sit down over there, and I'll call you over when I know."
She barely remembered sitting down. Her backpack had somehow appeared off of her back and onto the floor next to her, while her head hung off of the headrest.
"Ms. Arvaniti?"
She snorted awake, her red hair strewn across her face. Nurse Joy stood above her, clipboard in hand.
"We have a specialist here ready for you. We need you to sign a few forms. Your parents have been informed of where you are and are paying for you to stay here. Just sign these forms, and we can treat you."
She barely remembered signing anything before gathering her things, dragging herself into the other room, where she heard a Doctor tell her one phrase before truly passing out.
"You have the flu, Delia. No training for you, not for another week..."
She awoke again, but when no one was around. The sun finished climbing and started to descend. She was still in her dirty jeans and sweatshirt. Her pokeball belt was on the other side of the room, next to her gear.
The room looked sterile as the white wallpaper reflected the light outside. Her bed was on the far side of the door, next to a bathroom. With a wave of curiosity, she found that it had a shower. In an instant, she stripped her clothes and turned the hot water up. That would be her first true shower in months, comfortable in the privacy of a locked door. It had either been in springs or at some other Poke-Center when she had been feeling desperate.
Now, she felt the sickness drain out of her. She still coughed and sneezed, but it felt slightly better.
Out of habit, she grabbed her clothes and started washing them. Despite being able to go home with her Dodrio, she had learned how to take care of her clothes without detergents and fabric softener. Just scrub it repeatedly.
By the time she was done, the clothes hanging on a makeshift line in the shower, a towel comfortably around her chest, she had found a bag on her bed.
Her parents filled the bag with clean clothes, a toothbrush, a copy of one of Daddy's company's products called a "technical machine" with an "08" sticker on it, an actual brush, some feminine products, a box of her favorite tea, some herbal medicine, and a note:
"Delia,
We're so proud of your journey. Keep proving them all wrong!
Love,
Mommy and Daddy"
She gently folded the letter and slipped on her favorite pajama top and bottom. After climbing back into bed, she fell asleep for what felt like an eternity.
When she awoke again, the Sun had turned down for the night, and her supper, on a tiny table next to the window, had gotten cold. Her room was drenched in dark blues of the night, something she was used to on the outside. The window had been shut to keep the cold air out.
As she leaned out of bed, she still felt cold. Luckily she didn't need slippers.
"Psst, Charmeleon. Come out here."
The first ball on her belt's right side shook and erupted, releasing a white light that turned to bright oranges and reds. In the dark, anyone else would see a terrifying lizard with a horn and flaming tail. To Delia, she saw a friend that kept her warm.
It turned its nose upward, the room's anti-septic smells mixed with its trainer's familiar scents. Its big blue eyes glowed in the dark.
"Hey, I need your help."
The flame pokemon curiously walked over to the small table, careful not to light anything ablaze.
"I just need your tail for a second."
The lizard rolled its eyes as it drew in its tail towards Delia's plate. The fish and vegetables gave off steam in no time. As a reward, Delia even let it take a piece of fish for a meal.
"Thanks, Charmy. You can go rest now."
As she ate, the lizard didn't move. Instead, it purred like a leopard, crouching at its trainer's side.
"Don't worry, Charmy. We're safe. You don't need to watch over me. I just needed someone to warm up my food tonight. You can go."
It didn't listen. Its massive blue eyes sparkled in its tail's light.
"I..."
She didn't repeat it. Instead, she sank to the ground from her chair, next to her most loyal pokemon.
"Charmy," she started, looking away from its eyes, "Since I got sick, the doctor forbade me from training for a week."
The pokemon growled in frustration.
"Yeah, I know. And the qualifiers are in less than two months! I don't think we'll be ready..."
She looked to her Charmeleon. The one who rebelled against her at one point and only started obeying when it got schooled by Bella, her Weepinbell, under her command. The pokemon who stayed up a whole night and learned fire blast the next day. The one who could keep up with Dodrio on its worst day. The monster who protected her from a gang one night in Viridian Forest. The one she had held like a baby when she first received it. The one that looked like a champion.
"On second thought," she said, leaning into her pokemon, their silhouettes dancing on the walls.
"Maybe we could find some way to get around that."
Next week, a trainer would open their window, drop out a pokemon and spend the entire day reviewing strategy.
Day 1, Bella.
Day 2, Charmy.
Day 3, Hitty, her Hitmonchan.
Day 4, Kady, her Kadabra.
Day 5, Racer, her Dodrio.
Day 6, Starry, her Staryu.
The other residents of Pewter City looked at the Poke-Center with curiosity about their patient. Turns out none of them knew just how powerful that patient was.
