A Journey
Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.
Later that day, we reconvened on the couch in the lobby of the Pokemon Center. Brett sat next to Lavender, holding a large wad of cash, counting it with pride. Lavender was also proud, not because of any large pile of cash, but because of a small pastel pink ribbon she held in her hand.
"Thanks again for Ecru! Ecru is such a born contest Pokemon! I'll evolve him soon!" Lavender said.
I wasn't aware how a Pokemon that looked like it belonged in a club sandwich was artful and beautiful enough for a contest, but who was I to turn down an extremely powerful, fully evolved Pokemon when the time came?
"So where are we going next?" I asked. "We've squeezed all we can out of this town, right?"
"Why so eager to leave?" Peter asked me. "We can just relax for a while, or train a bit. I wouldn't mind teaching some of my Pokemon to swim."
I wasn't about to tell everyone that I was eager to return to my home I had been abducted from by my own father, so I just shrugged. "I'm sure Brett wants to get his starter Pokemon and start training." Brett rolled his eyes and pretended to vomit at that comment, but only I saw.
"We should move on! There's a contest back in Rustboro City!"
"We can only get there by boat, and we'd have to go through Rusturf Tunnel," Peter said.
"We do want to go back though, and get a starter for Brett, remember!" I was quick to exclaim.
"If I could evolve Ecru, we could ride him back to Rusturf Tunnel." Lavender said.
"You'd have to find a way to teach him Surf," Brett warned. "And you can't evolve him unless he has more contests, and the way to do that would be to go get more contests in other cities."
"Catch-22 much?" A voice asked us, a sultry, warm voice. I cursed inwardly, then turned around.
"Lauren…" I said, trailing off when I saw how little clothing she was wearing. She was wearing a small bikini top with ocean waves, and short brown shorts, with a very visible line of her bikini showing.
"Hi, guys! Do you need a ride? I love giving out rides!" On the word 'love,' she bounced on the balls of her heels slightly, making her breasts shake.
"We could always find a ferry," Lavender suggested, clearly disliking the idea of Lauren coming along as much as I did.
"Sure, sounds great," Peter said, craning his head up to stare at Lauren's face. We couldn't protest after that.
"I caught an Abra in Granite cave who can teleport, and I have a water Pokemon who can hold two people." She offered. "Free of charge."
"I'll teleport!" I offered immediately, wanting to speed up my trip home to Pallet Town, even by just a matter of hours.
"Me too!" Brett yelled loudly immediately afterwards.
"I will too," Lavender agreed, slower.
"Perfect," Lauren said. "I need to be on my Pokemon to control him. Peter, want to come with me?" Peter nodded.
I groaned. Damn, she was good. She now would have several hours of alone time with Peter, surrounded just by her and the ocean. Lavender's upper lip trembled, and her whole face seemed to melt into sadness; clearly she, too, understood what Lavender had just finagled.
Brett, of course, didn't understand, wouldn't understand. We all walked outside. With a mournful air, we smiled dismally, the spurned women and the tagalong juvenile. We stood next to the sea, the shore stark and real in the daylight, where cigarette butts littered the shore rather than reflections of lamplight and dreams.
Lauren, with a smirk and a flash of light, called out an Abra and a penguin that vaguely resembled a fortress, with metal lining its flippers.
"Wow," I said, staring at the titan. It had to be a Sinnoh Pokemon.
"Like my Empoleon?" She asked, staring at Lavender and I. "He's my starter. Great endurance, medium speed, but he can actually cut through ice with his flippers! Pretty safe, and he's strong enough to support two people all the way back to mainland."
"Siiria, go take them to Rustboro City. We'll be back at Route 104 by tonight if we start soon." Lauren spoke to the Abra. Empoleon clambered slowly into deep enough water, facing down. Lavender and Peter jumped onto Empoleon's back, and Empoleon began to row slowly out, using his steel-reinforced flippers as oars.
"Sriah, or whatever your name is, time to go, right?" I asked.
The Abra shook its head, and pointed to my Pokemon.
"Oh, that sucks," I said, unused to recalling Maestro and Chopin, although I had a bit more experience with Pichu. I realized a little bit why my dad didn't call in the Pikachu; it was a stark reminder that you owned the Pokemon; you could make them disappear. I did so, however, and the Abra nodded, and gestured to us all. We huddled close, making sure each one of us was touching him, and with a vivid flash of violet light, my surroundings appeared around me; Rustboro was a town of rock and stone, a bit like Pewter City.
"Wait. I just thought of something." I said to myself. "If this Abra can teleport, why didn't we just go to the start of Hoenn and get Brett a starter?" I asked.
"Good question," said Lavender. "I wish you thought of that before Lauren got so much alone time with Peter!"
"We can still get the starter now!" I said.
"What would be the point?" Brett asked. "We're heading backwards anyways, then we'll just go forwards again. Besides, Peter will want to go back and catch all the Pokemon anyways."
"Yeah, but don't you want 'your' starter earlier?" I asked, nudging Brett. He got the message, and Lavender, having looked up contest data on a telephone pole dotted with flyers, determined that the next contest was three days from now, and she wasn't missing anything.
"Hey, can you take us to the starter town for Hoenn?" The Abra shrugged.
"Do you need to know its name?" I asked. The Abra nodded, and I cursed to myself.
The house to the left of the Pokemon Center seemed like a good option. It seemed to be a business as well; a neon sign advertised 'Cut 1,000.'
"My hair isn't that long," I thought to myself, but I did have bad split ends, so I wouldn't begrudge a trim.
I walked inside, but didn't see a barber chair or even a sink. What I did see, however, was a man sitting at a desk, with several small, round discs.
"What's the town the Professor lives in?" I asked, wishing I didn't have to resort to this.
"Would you like a Cut?" He asked.
"Is this even a salon?"
"No!" He laughed a while at that. "Do you do contest battles or something?" He laughed. I was glad Lavender wasn't in there with me; he said it like it was an insult.
"No, I sell Cut, which is an HM. It gives your Pokemon a new attack. When they go into their Pokeballs, Pokemon turn to energy, and when you put the Pokeball on the disc, the disc uploads the information and muscle memory required to cut through underbrush, bushes, and even small trees to your Pokemon. And your opponents, of course. Only 1,000 in cash! My family used to give away unlimited versions for free, but the hard times, you know? Three Pokemon can learn this, and then it degrades."
I looked at the remainder of money in my pocket. Was it worth it to spend every one of my last remaining dollars on Pokemon attacks, of all things? I called out my three Pokemon. Pichu gave me a horrendous shock, Maestro playfully tugged at my shoelaces, and Chopin warbled a triumphant note and posed. The posing he probably picked up from Lavender. Not a good thing…
"Can any of them learn cut?"
"The Rattata definitely can, and let me check. Yes, the cricket can!" The man said. "And you can even teach it to one of your later Pokemon!" He wheedled. I was lucky that my Pokemon Center meals were free, and my soup was a treat from Peter. But weren't these attacks investments? If this would help them win battles, we'd get more money. Of course, this actually meant that I had to train them. I winced, knowing that it was essentially inevitable.
"I'll take a Cut," I said finally, hoping that training wouldn't crimp my style.
"Alright then!" The man said, cheerfully, holding out one of the discs to me. I called Maestro back in, and Chopin as well. I tried the machine on Chopin first, then on Maestro. The only sign that it worked was a loud whirring sound after each one was finished.
I called out Maestro and Chopin, then realized something when I saw them both glaring at me.
"Sorry; I should have asked you first. Do you mind?" Chopin shrugged, but Maestro rolled his eyes, and with sharper incisors than normal, cut straight through my sneakers.
"Not nice!" I yelled, wishing that I had examined my bare feet more often; my toenails were growing extremely long and sharp, like squared talons. At least Peter wasn't here to see.
Maestro, his anger now subsided, ground his teeth happily, and when he looked at me through his narrowed ruby eyes, it was very difficult to stay mad.
I made a rude noise, and stalked out of the Cut store, Chopin, Maestro, and Pichu trailing behind me.
"What now?" I asked. I now saw the futility of getting a starter a few hours early. In the end, how much would this training time really matter?
I headed into the Pokemon Center, begged Nurse Joy for a sewing needle to sew up my sneakers, and booked Lavender and I a room in advance. I was used to sharing a room with her; although she was stupid, she wasn't intentionally mean, and as far as I knew, she didn't snore or smell. Those were the only rooming qualifications I had. The Nurse Joy looked at me dubiously, but I just stared at her back evenly. It was hard to be intimidated by a petite pink-haired nurse when I had survived Pichu. I deserved a commemorative T-Shirt ("I survived a Psychotic Pichu"), but short of that, at least one silver lining was that I was far less daunted than I had been prior to this hellish camping trip.
Brett meanwhile reserved a room for Peter and himself, presumably wanting to be at least protected in a room with tough Pokemon.
We headed back outside and met up together. I really wished that I knew how to be training my Pokemon, or even what exactly I should be training them to do.