A little something for you: I really enjoy writing these chapters. However, I don't like rereading; it's a personality thing, after I make something I can't help but feel disgusted by it, no reasoning necessary. The fact that there are people like you around the world, people who can enjoy what I write, or find solace in it, or are simply willing to use whatever time they could be using to cure cancer or whatever to instead read my literature—about POKEMON of all things!—not only baffles me, but makes me feel amazing. This is just a quick little shout-out to all of my readers, however many or few you may be.

Thank you

Also, my third quarter of college has just ended, and I'm about to embark on a summer quarter of school with a job on the side. There will be less work overall I hope so I should be able to post on a more regular basis. I usually don't plan out fun stuff of mine on principle, but I could try to post on a weekly or biweekly basis. However, I'm not just doing this for myself: You guys get a say in this too! Private message me, comment on this chapter, send me your thoughts somehow, I'm open to suggestions. How often would you like to read what I have to write?

As usual, comments and critiques are welcome, more so than the power to turn things to gold at will, and I hope you enjoy this little snippet of our protag's story.

N. Locke

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Have you ever wondered about what Pokemon eat?

I mean, we all know they enjoy Pokeblocks, we can identify the berries they enjoy depending on their behaviors, we even know the natural food chain. But with respect to regular, human food? What do Pokemon eat?

If the food fits their natural inclinations, like Magikarp with seafood and Mareanie with Corsala shells, Pokemon can eat whatever human food they want.

I voiced this to my currently nameless starter as we sat at the lone table bolted to the floor in the Dark-typed room: me on a stool, him on the table itself across from me. Between us was a single plate of salad, layered with different greens and topped with a light spread of feta and oran berries. Both of us prodded at it, unaware of the universality of the dish before us.

There's some stuff I like, commented the Ralts in my head. It…He was trying to sound gruff, or rather, think gruff. This was to no avail, and no matter how much gravel he added to his voice, his thoughts still showed a lightness to them, one that can only be called child-like, but it was missing a key aspect that most children didn't even realize they had: innocence.

"The same goes for me…" I commented back. I had never seen a dish that incorporated both Pokemon and human food before. Didn't most berries have a poisonous effect on people? Could Pokemon eat plain greens? What did Ralts eat in general?

I can eat most things! Another thought from my starter in my head. "How do you do that?"

Do what?

"That, the thinking in my head thing."

Why can't you do the 'thinking in MY head' thing?

"I don't think I can, really. I'm a human, and humans aren't like Ralts."
What's that supposed to mean?! He stood up on the table, small hands bunching together into fists. His eyes focused on mine, a slight glow to them, as he tried to place thoughts of fear and helplessness into my head. It definitely would have worked if he didn't scrunch together his eyebrows and pout his lip like he did, he looked like he really needed a hug. Like a stuffed Teddiursa doll.

Knowing he could read my thoughts, I thought about the idea of a Teddiursa doll more, how they were widely known for having amazing hugs, how their big eyes and infantile behaviors make them the best for young children to play with, how soft and fluffy they were… the Ralts became more infuriated with each passing thought. I knew this guy's weakness.

That's IT! He screamed. Yes, a thought can be screamed, and somehow it still hurts your ears. With a ghost of a glow on his horn, he vanished from existence in front of my face again, going for my nose yet again. The novelty of these attacks had worn itself on me, and so I wasn't shocked in the slightest; rather, I caught his punch and held him there for a few seconds. I now had his full attention, and now he could tell that he couldn't take me on in a fist-fight yet; I'd already figured out his teleporting trick.

"We've already done this part. How about a truce: I will do my best to not make you angry and will do my best to answer your questions. What about you?"

The Ralts thought for a moment, a small look of confusion on his small face. He then glanced up and thought, Are we making a deal?

A smirk of Ralts-like proportions teleported onto my face. "Yes we are. I'm glad we're starting to understand each other in that respect. Now, I've given my word that I'd do something. In exchange, what will you do?"

Give me a moment. My starter sat down on the table, legs crossed and hands relaxed on his knees. He may have been a Psychic-Fairy type, but his posture strongly resembled that of a Meditite undergoing strict training. Then his horn began to glow, as if it was just starting to show its shroud of sunlight, and seemed to lift him above the table slightly. The glow progressed from a see-through shroud to a solid barrier between the world and his horns, the light coalescing into a perfect mold, changing from a pure white to increasingly deep shades of scarlet. The light settled on the hue of blood before fading out, leaving the dull-red horn naked to the world, while the Ralts opened his eyes and landed, no noise escaping his movements.

Do I get to train with you?

I gave him a confused look. "Do you mean like a Trainer's pokemon?"

No, he shook his head, I mean train train.

I thought back to when he first emerged from his ball, how I couldn't see him at all until I finally caught him in my hands. How he knew where to hit to shock me and deal damage, but didn't have the force to back it up.

Another smile tried to break through my visage. "That's a given. We can spar whenever, but without trying to kill each other. But I need something else."

The Ralts looked down slightly, small chin in his equally small hand, deep in thought.

How about… he shook his head. You wouldn't want that. He hummed slightly, and then looked up.

I'll not mess with your head.

If I talk to someone, I try to find out what they want, and to see if they can do the same. Most of the time, the other person gets too annoyed, scared, or bored to continue, given that most of the people I tried this exercise with were homeless children trying to survive. This Ralts, however, was meeting all of my standards for a travelling partner.

I held out my hand. "We have a deal."

The Ralts teleported back slightly, just onto the edge of the table.

"I'm not attacking you. This is what you do when you make a deal. You shake hands."

Shake…hands?

"Yeah, you grab my hand, I grab yours, and we shake. It means we're making a promise of sorts."

Okay… we have a deal. He approached slowly, eyes narrowed and searching for a trap. When he found none, the Ralt's hand grabbed my fingers. I looked at him, he was looking back, and we shook hands.

If our agreement wasn't so meaningful, and if it was any less sideways than our handshake that day, I probably would have laughed at how pathetic we looked.