I tug off my dusty shirt and Team Plasma overalls, in favor of a much cleaner t-shirt and jeans. I don't know why anyone thought it was a good idea to put Plasma logos on all the work clothes. It doesn't make us "unified and strong," it just makes the clothes unattractive as fuck. Stupid farming job. With any luck, I'll be bounced from this job to one that is slightly less unwanted in a few weeks. Though sadly, this isn't the worst job I've had by a long shot. I suppose working shitty jobs and having all your neighbors look at you funny are just the perks of being a legal orphan, am I right? Don't get me wrong, I'll be eternally grateful to Touya and his mother for taking me in, but it's not the same as having real parents.
Pulling my hair back into a ponytail, I decide to go outside, before I can depress myself any more. I tug on my combat boots, and my baseball cap, heading for the door. Tossing my purse over my shoulder, I lock the door behind me, surveying Nuvema Town. Not exactly the hub for a teenage girl to hang out in. I'm about to head over to Bianca's house, and suggest we hit Nuvema's tired shopping mall for the third time this week, when one of Team Plasma's patrol grunts taps me on the shoulder.
"Are you Touko White?" he asks.
"Yeah. What do you want this time?" I reply.
I know the drill by now. They need someone to work a job no one else wants to do, and I'm stuck doing it.
"We need you to come clear out a room in a factory." he answers.
Knew it.
"Okay. I'm coming." I respond lethargically.
He gestures to a car, and I climb in the back. He drives us down a small trail in the woods, and I'm thinking that maybe there a job, and that he's just going to kill me. I've just about decided that this is the case, and maybe I should be getting out of here when the factory comes into view.
"Umm... is that thing stable?" I ask.
"I'm not sure," he responds, uncaring.
"What?" I squeak. "You didn't tell me the place was this old."
"It wasn't necessary information."
"I'm not going in there," I fold me arms over my chest.
"You just have to clear out some boxes." he tells me. " And this isn't a choice."
Groaning, I walk into the factory, pushing open the door, which is hanging crazily by one hinge. Impossibly, the inside looks worse than the outside. The factory is wet and moldy, with papers laying all over the floor. I slip and land on my ass, which causes the whole factory to creak. Crap. I need to clean quickly.
"Boxes, boxes. Where are the boxes?" I mutter, glancing around the room.
Eventually, I notice the moldy crates in the corner. Since they're the only boxes in here, I come to the conclusion that I'm going to need a second shower, as I'm going to reek of mold. I grab the first box they've slated for removal, and drop it outside of the door. I grab the next two, and have the last one, when I slip again. The box goes flying, and smashes open on the floor.
"Oh crap!" I cry, hopping up off the floor.
Pokeballs. The box was filled with Pokeballs. And they are now all over the floor. To have one is highly illegal. It gets you a year in prison. Having a Pokemon lands you five. Grabbing one off of the floor, I look turn it over in my hand. It doesn't feel morally wrong. If I had been my submissive friends Cheren and Bianca, I would have tossed away the Pokeball. If I had been Touya, I would have gotten rid of it too, but being me, I do the rash, impulsive, and illegal thing. I look around to make sure I'm not being watched, and stuff the Pokeball in my bag. I then grab a couple more, and hide those too. Figuring it will look suspicious if I do nothing, I decide to call for help. Besides, I don't really want to clean this up by myself, and the box is totaled.
"Hey! Truck Guy? I dropped a box, and spilled some evil Pokeballs everywhere. Could I have help cleaning up this mess?" I call loudly, deciding to ham it up. Team Plasma loves when you agree with them.
"Oh, sure." The grunt calls.
"Thanks. I didn't really want to touch them without being supervised, because they're just so wrong, you know?"
"You did the right thing," he tells me, putting his hand on my shoulder.
"Thank you," I nod, like his praise means everything to me.
We sweep all the Pokeballs into an unbroken crate, and toss them into the truck. I grab the last two boxes, and we ride to the dump. We –and by "we", I mean I– unload the crates.
"I live a block away from here," I tell the grunt motioning me into the truck."I can walk home."
"Okay," he tells me, glad he doesn't have to drive me home.
I watch him drive off, and as soon as I'm sure he's gone, I grab a rusty bar out from the junk. Since one of the boxes had Pokeballs, the factory probably made them. Maybe the other boxes have some too. Using the bar, I pry a piece of rotten wood from the top of a different crate. Great balls are in this one. Opening the others, I find Ultra balls, and even a single Master ball. I grab the Master ball, plus several Great and Ultra balls, and tuck them into my combat boots. I dash home, lock myself in my room, and drop my purse on my bed. I can hide my Pokeballs later. Right now I need a shower.
When I finally head downstairs, I find Touya waiting for me with Cheren and Bianca.
"Touko! You're back!" Bianca cries.
"I thought those grunts snatched you," Touya said worriedly.
"Nah, they just wanted me to work another odd job," I reply. "Say, have you guys I dunno... ever thought about rebelling?" I nonchalantly ask, thinking about the Pokeballs on my bed.
"Against Team Plasma?" Bianca whispers quietly.
"Yeah." I say.
"Uh, hell no! I don't want to wind up in prison!" Bianca hisses.
"And you guys?" I ask Cheren and Touya, biting my lip.
"I don't think that would be logical," Cheren replies in his nerdy way, pushing his glasses up his nose.
"I dunno," Touya eloquently adds his commentary. "Why?"
"Oh, just wondering," I say, and laugh it off, the Pokeballs I stole feeling heavier and heavier. "I gotta run now. I left something in the patrol grunt's car. See you in a sec." I say before dashing into my room.
I hide my Pokeballs under the bed, and pocket one. Sneaking outside to the forest behind my house, I check to make sure I'm not followed. I run through some grass, looking over my shoulder every few seconds. Eventually, I find a Snivy hiding in the woods. Startled, I yelp in shock, before grinning in excitement! A Pokemon! I pull out my Pokeball and Snivy nearly goes out of his mind with excitement.
"Snivy! Snivy!"
"Calm down, little guy. You want in?" I ask.
Snivy practically claws his way out of my arms and into the Pokeball. I do a victory dance, when I hear a cold voice behind me.
"Hand over that Pokemon, and maybe I'll go easy on you." I feel my blood freeze, and turn around slowly to face the grunt. Five minutes after breaking a law, and I've already been caught. There's no way I can talk my way out of this one. "Hand it over!"
He shoves me hard in the shoulder, and I nearly drop the Pokeball. Something inside me snaps, and I shove him back.
"You think you're so fucking great, don't you? You don't care about Pokemon. You care about power. Well, you can kiss my ass!"
I pop open the Pokeball, less gracefully than I'd like to admit, and send out my Snivy, while he throws down a Patrat.
"Snivy! Attack!" I order.
I have no idea how to do this shit, but Snivy seems to understand what I want. He whips the Patrat with vines, and attacks it with sharp leaves. It faints, and the grunt realizes he is defenseless, and cowed by an angry girl with a Pokemon.
"Team Plasma will hear about this!" he calls as he runs away.
Crap. I really didn't think this through.