Chapter Nine
Using Your Head

The café that Annabelle had raved about was a tiny place sitting on the outskirts of a quiet settlement which Paul had no idea even existed before now. It was small, for a business, he reckoned. An awning was built onto the dark wooden exterior and customers flitted around clinking glasses filled with soda. As Annabelle pushed open the door, Paul caught the café's name and chuckled: "Bits and Bites".

A welcome breath of cold air caught Paul off-guard as he shuffled after Annabelle. Air conditioning.

"Strange to have air conditioning in a café…" he muttered to Annabelle. He wasn't about to complain though, hoping to find some excuse to stand underneath it for as long as possible.

"They need it in here, though,"

As she weaved them through, he understood. Every inch of the café's limited space had been utilised – from bookshelves by the door to tables, plush chairs and sofas set up in exact, meticulous lines. There was enough space to move through the furniture – but only just – and Paul struggled to shift his more ample figure between them. A small kitchen area sat in the far left corner and from it, a barrage of smells and noises that made Paul's mouth water in anticipation. The counter at the front of the store groaned under the weight of cakes, pastries and packaged sandwiches.

Annabelle was not shy; took a table directly in-between a family of five and a couple laden with shopping bags. Paul slid into the chair opposite her uncomfortably. It was hard against his back. He cast a wistful glance to the unoccupied sofas.

As Annabelle studied the menu, Paul noticed something interesting. There had been power outlets once installed along the walls and under the tables, but they had been boarded up. A sign hanging on the counter read "No Wi-Fi – talk to each other!" Paul grimaced. It was one of those places.

Menus in cafes weren't ordinarily this extravagant. Not in Paul's experience anyway. By the time he glanced over the Soups, Salads, Open Baguettes, Paninis and Baked Potatoes, Annabelle had already ordered. A steaming bowl of sweet potato and carrot soup and a doorstop of generously buttered bread was brought to the table. She paid discreetly with a handful of coins, having to count out the last few coppers. Paul pretended he didn't notice and looked over the sandwich menu again.

"Egg salad club sandwich with avocado and watercress, £6.99

Roasted red pepper hummus, avocado and feta sandwich, £5.99

Tomato and Gogoat cheese sandwich with balsamic drizzle, £5.99

Grilled mushroom, roasted red pepper and Gogoat cheese wrap, £4.99"

He looked at Annabelle over the top of the menu. "Where the hell is the food?" he demanded, brandishing the offending menu at her.

She snorted into her soup, sending bright orange lumps all along the table.

"I didn't think a hipster café would be so… posh." He grumbled, before eventually deciding on the slow cooked beef sandwich with onion and mustard. It was a pricy choice but when it was placed on the table in front of him, he instantly warmed up to it. Served in a toasted ciabatta roll and crammed full of tender beef slices, it was so hefty he could barely fit his mouth around it.

They ate in relative silence. The café moved along at a bustling pace – customers ordering, eating and leaving again, just to be replaced by the next ones. Paul found himself somewhat in awe at the efficiency in which the employees worked. He knew the strain of the constant stream of customers and he had often worked himself more and more into a temper the more customers he saw in quick succession.

"I feel like they're just waiting for us to leave so they can get the next lot in and out," Paul muttered, dabbing at a blob of mustard that had fallen on his plate.

"Nah. So long as you keep buying stuff, they won't kick you out."

"I'm getting a coffee then." Paul heaved himself up from the chair. "…want anything?"

"Oh." Annabelle looked uncomfortable and rootled in her bag for a tiny purse shaped like a Sewaddle. She rattled it and Paul heard the jangling of coins. Her face fell slightly. "I, uh… probably don't have enough…"

"That… wasn't what I asked." He said gruffly.

"I know…" Her eyes were firmly on the table.

"What do you like? You like coffee?"

"Not especially. I find it kinda bitter. Oh, but they do a lovely Berry smoothie. It's really healthy – apparently worth like three of your five-a-day!"

Annabelle's eyes were wide and her cheeks were flushed. She fanned herself with the back of her hand. Paul frowned. She wasn't still hot, was she? The air conditioning was on full blast and he found it quite pleasant.

"Whatever floats your boat," he shrugged and went to the counter.

He regretted his generosity almost as soon as he saw the prices of the drinks written above the counter on colourful chalkboards. "£8 for a coffee and a smoothie. Goddamn hipster cafes."

The grumbling did not stop even when he sat back down. He did have to admit the drinks were served prettily, far more so than drinks should be. Tall, wide rimmed glasses, his coffee topped with a mound of cream and chocolate shavings, and Annabelle's smoothie a silky pink and garnished with berry slivers.

Annabelle fumbled through her purse again. "I'll… I'll pay you back, you know."

"Forget it." Paul replied, taking a long, slow draught from the mug and allowing the bitter tang to coat his tastebuds. "Call it… a thanks. For all that stuff yesterday."

Slurping the smoothie through a straw, Annabelle didn't argue. Enjoyed a secret smile to herself. They were silent again, absorbed in the rhythm of sipping and gulping while life moved on around them. Just as Paul wished the peace and serenity would go on forever, long after he finished his coffee, the café door swung open with a bang.

Half a dozen kids ran in, shrieking and hollering. Not a single other customer raised their heads in acknowledgement of their arrival. Faces red and flushed, they stampeded through the limited space towards the counter, nearly upturning a chair in the process.

"Bloody kids." Paul grimaced. "No respect."

Annabelle noted the Pokeballs swinging from the belts and bags of the kids. "I think they might actually be Pokemon trainers. Maybe even decent ones."

"You serious? Those little brats? Please."

The kids had taken the table next to Annabelle and Paul. Muddy feet and bags thrown around, tables and chairs scraping against the hard floor and the noise of six or seven drinks cans simultaneously torn open. Paul frowned and mouthed "Can we go?" to Annabelle but she was preoccupied with spooning the last of the smoothie froth from the bottom of her glass and didn't see him.

"Dude, that was so cool the way you threw that Pokeball! And your Poliwag just owned everything!"

"I know!" the tallest and scruffiest of the kids puffed his chest out. He held a blue and white patterned Pokeball high above his head. "And this thing is gonna make everything so much easier. Taking on the Gym will be simple!"

The lone girl of the group piped up "But a Heracross won't be much use against Bugsy… will it?" and went largely unnoticed among the jovial woops and cheers.

Paul set his mug down with a slam and stood up in one fell swoop. He turned right towards the tallest kid and said, in as low a voice as he could "Hey, kid. Where did you get that Heracross you're boasting about?"

"What's it to ya?" The kid spoke with an arrogance only ever seen in adolescent boys. He didn't wait for Paul's answer, egged on by jeers from the other kids. "Why the hell do you think I'd tell you anyway?" Even the most basic of curse words seemed embarrassingly ill-fitting. Like a boy trying out a man's language.

"Watch your attitude, kid. I'm just a guy asking another guy for a favour. That's all. No need to get bratty."

"Hmph," the kid seemed to consider this carefully. "Well, I found it right at the end of Route 31. Had to Headbutt a lot of trees for it. But you'll be lucky if there's any left!" He added, with a sinister cackle.

"Times like this I can't stand kids…" Paul made no attempt to lower his voice as he pulled his bag out from under the table. "Come on, Annabelle. We're going."

Annabelle looked up in surprise, sporting the remains of a pink frothy moustache. "What? We are?"

"You're damn right we are."

"Where to?"

"Route 31. I'm gonna catch me one of those Heracross if it kills me."

"Heracross?" she frowned, grabbing her bag and dodging around various obstacles to follow. "Hey, Paul, wait!" she cried, as he disappeared out the door.

He was already halfway down the road by the time she disentangled herself. Walking with such purpose and stride, she had to jog to catch him up.

"So what's with the hurry?" she panted.

"Weren't you listening?" he shot her an offhand look over his shoulder. "Those kids in the café had a Heracross."

"So?"

"Heracross are a damn good Pokemon to have." He said as if that settled the matter.

"They're also a damn hard Pokemon to find. And an even harder one to fight."

"They can't be that high level for a beginning route."

Annabelle had to run over Paul's statement in her head a few times before she understood. "…what?"

Paul stopped and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Route 31 is, like, one of the first routes trainers come to, yeah? Nothing is gonna be that hard to beat out here."

Annabelle blinked. "You seriously think that's the case? Didn't you learn anything from that Beedrill? What do you think happens? People go about clearing out Pokemon that are too aggressive and too 'high level'?" She snorted. "Danger levels are the same all over, Paul."

Paul felt the back of his neck redden and he growled something unintelligible in response. Damn this woman, always feeling the need to correct and belittle him. "Let's just go…"

"Paul, I'm serious." She grabbed his arm and kept a firm hold. "Heracross aren't a Pokemon to be messed with. That's even if you manage to find one."

"Well we'll just have to wait and see then, won't we?" He glowered one last time at her for good measure before stomping off in the general direction of Route 31.

-.-.-

Ponds and trees. That's all Route 31 seemed to offer. Ponds, trees and a constant uphill battle. Paul dragged his weary legs forward, the majority of his motivation now lost in the face of the never-ending upward struggle. As always, Annabelle and her Pokemon marched on, showing no signs of fatigue. Even Ledyba flittered along behind him like it was nothing, his release on Annabelle's insistence.

"Right…" He panted. "This…this ought to be the place."

Annabelle ran her gaze around the place he had them stop. She had to admit, if he was looking for a Heracross, he probably couldn't have picked a better place to search. Surrounded by a canopy of trees, situated nicely away from the trail, she detected a scent of something sweet hanging thick in the air. Honey.

She caught him staring at her and flinched. "What?"

"I need Dusty."

"…I beg your pardon?"

Dusty cocked his head to one size at the mention of his name.

"I need Dusty." He repeated.

"What? No! You're not having Dusty."

"Not to keep!" he sighed in exasperation. "I just need to borrow Dusty's Headbutt."

"Shroom!" Dusty chattered. "Shroom! Shroom! Shroom!"

"See? He's totally keen for it."

"No way. Dusty, get back here." She commanded and Dusty teetered back to her obediently. "Look… even if I gave you Dusty, do you really think he would listen to you?"

"You'd command him, right?"

"Well… I could. But… assuming on the slim chance you actually found a Heracross. How would you battle it? Even if it was a weak one, we can't take down a Heracross with a Fletchling, Shroomish and a Ledyba. Actually… that's a point. Have you even got any Pokeballs?"

The look on Paul's face instantly told Annabelle no.

She had to fight to suppress a laugh. "You… don't have any Pokeballs?"

"I… forgot."

"You're hopeless, you know that?"

"Ugh… Dammit." Paul aimed a kick to the base of one of the trees. "Why does everything have to always go wrong?" he supplemented each word with another kick. An errant branch and a handful of leaves came crashing to the ground, a few feet away from Ledyba.

"Calm down. It's not the end of the world." Annabelle tried to sound soothing but she couldn't quite keep a straight face. "It's probably for the best. It's not like Ledyba could take on a Heracross, even if you could find one. And we can get you Pokeballs when we reach Violet City."

"I suppose…"

Paul turned away, contemplating whether he should carry on through Route 31 or sit down in defiance for a good few hours, when he heard a loud thwack coming from behind, followed by Annabelle's frightened scream.

"What? What?" he cried, turning on his heel.

Annabelle gestured wordlessly at Ledyba. The tiny Pokemon looked slightly dazed, shook itself down and then bodily slammed itself into the trunk of the nearest tree.

"What the hell…?"

"Le! Le! Le!" Ledyba waggled its arms in happiness and looked up at the two trainers, almost expectantly.

Paul looked at Annabelle. "That's… not usual, is it?"

"No, no, no! Watch, watch, watch!" Annabelle flapped her hands at him in urgency. "He's not using his body like you would in Tackle. He's using his head."

Ledyba slammed his head into the bottom of another tree. A startled Pidgey flew from somewhere deep within the branches, screeching at being disturbed and sending a cloud of leaves and branches scattering to the ground. Most of which landed in Annabelle's hair. Dusty squeaked in excitement and joined in with this new game, colliding with another tree with such force the whole thing shook.

"…That's Headbutt!" Annabelle concluded.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ledyba don't learn Headbutt! Not naturally, not by TM, not even by Egg move!" He ticked each one off his fingers.

"Then explain what he's doing then?" Annabelle challenged.

She waited a few seconds while he flailed for an answer.

"I've seen it a few times – not many – but a few." She was rushing to get the words out, like she would lose them if she didn't say them as quick as possible. "Sometimes if Pokemon are raised from birth or from very young around different species of Pokemon, they'll try and copy their moves. I mean, obviously a Fire type isn't going to learn any Water type moves and a Grass type won't start breathing fire any time soon, but some of the more physical moves… it can happen. I guess Ledyba really looks up to Dusty or something," she added, with a nervous chuckle.

"…how interesting," was all Paul could say.

"See if he'll do it on command."

"Huh?"

"See if he'll do it on command." Annabelle repeated. "It's all well and good if he's doing it by himself, but unless he does it on command—"

"Alright, alright, quit nagging." He whistled to get the Ledyba's attention, and to his surprise, the little Pokemon halted its efforts and stared up at him.

Flashing back to the last time he had attempted to get the baby Ledyba to listen to him, he tried to put as much authority into his voice as possible.

"Use Headbutt."

His command just came out like he was reading from the dullest book in existence. Ledyba stared at him blankly in return.

Paul tried again. "…that thing you were just doing. Do it again."

Nothing.

"Maybe you should demonstrate." Annabelle snickered.

Paul ignored her. "Headbutt." He repeated. "Use Headbutt. That thing you were literally just doing."

"Le! Le! Le!" The Ledyba shimmied its six tiny arms at Paul.

"No. Headbutt!"

"Shroom!" Dusty cried in indignation, irritated nobody was paying attention to him, and collided with the base of another tree.

"Yeah! That thing Dusty's doing!" Paul was clutching at straws and he knew it. "Do that!"

Ledyba cocked his head to one side again, blinked twice, and then, to Paul's surprise, he shot forward and struck the lower part of the tree.

At his Pokemon's unexpected success, Paul had to fight the urge to punch the air. The triumphant gasp of "Yes!" and the wide, beaming smile were not so easily suppressed, however. Annabelle watched in astonishment at what she guessed was the first genuine display of happiness she had seen from Paul. It was like someone had turned a light on in his dark, bottomless eyes.

"Again! Again, Ledyba!"

He obeyed like a charm and Paul's grin grew wider. Even Annabelle couldn't keep a proud smile from tugging at the corners of her mouth. "He's got it!"

Paul couldn't explain the feeling of invigoration he felt bubbling through his body. A fizzy, sparkling sensation that he could only liken to when he had downed an entire packet of popping candy in one go. Perhaps it was stupid, perhaps the feelings he experienced were not properly justified to what was essentially, a minor experience, but for once, he didn't care.

It wasn't a flawless Pokemon. It wasn't another win to add to the belt. But it was tangible. It was real.

It was progress.

And every time the little Ledyba showed off his new trick, he felt a tiny drop of hope. He could do this. Of course he could.

There was no way he was going to let Dest win.

"Alright, Ledyba, let's—"

But Paul's sentence did not leave his mouth unfinished as he was met with a symphony of violent buzzing and crashing. His eyes widened as the tree Ledyba had just headbutted spewed out half a dozen mustard yellow and coal black devils. Beedrill. A whole swarm of them.

"…you have got to be kidding me…" Annabelle gulped.

"Run for it!" Paul wasted no time, scooped up the Ledyba in his arms and ran as fast as his exhausted legs could allow him.

Author's Note

Hi everybody! Another chapter for you!

Probably won't be able to keep up with two chapters a week - possibly will get one out next week if I'm lucky - but I found out today I have more holiday starting next Sunday so I'll have a chance to keep up with it all.

We've officially left the beginning of the story now - thank God - so it should start moving along a bit faster now - training, catching, lots of character development. I've got a few really fun plot points to explore that I've planned out so I'm so excited to start those.

Again, massive big thanks to everyone that's read and reviewed this one. I really do appreciate it and I really hope I don't end up losing momentum for this one like I have done another few projects

Speaking of which. I realised today it's coming up to SIX YEARS since I first started publishing on this site with Spirited. I've got three months until then, so I wanna do something really special to commemorate that. I just don't know what yet.

Much regards and love for all of you reading