Chapter One: A Shattered Ruby
Tropical storms were unlike anything Brendan Ruby had encountered before. The Hoenn region, unlike his familiar Johto, seldom encountered heavy rainfall during its summer months. Thunderstorms and lightning were typically reserved for colder seasons. Yet, as he clung tightly to the passenger seat of the moving van, Brendan's heart raced in response to the howling winds and booming thunder that rattled the cabin. Raindrops splattered against the windshield, impairing his vision, while the dim glow of the headlights struggled to pierce through the downpour.
"Do you think we should pull over and wait for the storm to pass?" Brendan asked, his voice laced with concern.
His mother, Caroline Ruby, remained hunched over the steering wheel, her body tense and unyielding since their departure from Oldale Town hours ago. A combination of the truck's roaring heater and the stress of navigating unfamiliar roads under such extreme weather had caused beads of sweat to form on her forehead. Brendan feared that this, coupled with the strain of uprooting their lives to follow the family across the ocean, might jeopardize their safety on the final stretch of their journey.
"We can't be more than twenty minutes away from Littleroot Town," Caroline replied, her voice strained. The van suddenly jolted, bouncing as it unexpectedly hit a pothole on what was supposed to be a newly paved road. She cursed under her breath and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "I'd rather brave this weather in the safety of our new home, wouldn't you?"
Brendan attempted a feeble jest, hoping to lighten the mood. "I thought you'd relish the opportunity to delay seeing Dad a little longer." His attempt at humor fell flat as his mother remained silent, her focus unwavering on the treacherous road ahead. With a sigh, he sank deeper into his seat, gazing aimlessly into the dark and tempestuous wilderness, his fingers tracing the circumference of the Pokéball fastened to his belt.
In truth, Brendan was projecting his own apprehensions onto his overwhelmed mother. Right before his departure from Johto the previous year, his father had entrusted him with one of his Sentret, hoping to impart a sense of responsibility through Pokémon ownership. Regrettably, Brendan had never formed a true bond with the Pokémon, which had instead developed a strong attachment to Caroline. Consequently, he had witnessed no significant progress in Sentret's training since his father had set off to establish his own Gym.
The thought of their impending reunion weighed heavily on Brendan's mind, tainted by his perceived failure to properly raise the Pokémon. This sensation only compounded as a sign carved from stone, illuminated by the van's headlights, greeted them with its warm, inviting message:
Welcome to Littleroot
"Unshaded From Any Hue"
Glowing dots of light, emanating from sources other than their own vehicle, gradually peppered the world around them. Though streetlights existed, they remained sparse, serving only a handful of intersections. The true radiance came from the windows of freshly built houses that lined the town's quaint streets. Each dwelling exuded a cozy glow, offering a glimpse into the lives of those who had already hunkered down for the evening.
"This place feels more like a village than a town," Brendan whispered. Caroline deftly maneuvered the van, turning at the second intersection and eventually guiding it into the driveway of a two-story home that proudly stood as the middle building among a row of three. With the engine silenced, Caroline finally allowed herself a moment of respite, the symphony of raindrops pelting against the cabin providing a soothing backdrop.
Relieved, Brendan unbuckled his seatbelt, his curiosity piqued by the sight of their new abode. He craned his neck, attempting to peer through the front window. Though the lights inside were switched on, the drawn curtains obscured his view, leaving him yearning to uncover the secrets that lay beyond. Giving his Pokéball one final reassuring squeeze, he shifted his hand to the passenger door handle.
"Mind if I go in?" Brendan asked, anxious to escape the ferocious storm.
Caroline nodded, her eyes remaining closed as she took a deep breath. "Go ahead. After all that driving, I need a moment to collect myself."
Brendan hesitated for a fleeting moment, his concern for his mother tugging at his heartstrings. He decided against saying something to her, instead swinging open the truck door, instantly inviting the wild gusts of wind and torrents of rain into the cabin. Braving the tempest, Brendan quickly shut the door, securing it against the battering elements. He reached up to anchor his billowing white beanie, its fabric dancing in the wind, as he dashed towards the porch.
The veranda offered little respite from the unforgiving rain as Brendan's trembling hand frantically grasped the doorknob. In a burst of determination, he forced the door open, propelling himself into the warm embrace of their new home. Slamming the door shut behind him, he could finally hear nothing but the distant echoes of the storm raging outside.
The barrenness of the open space he now stood in was quickly overshadowed by the inviting warmth that enveloped him. The tantalizing aroma of a savory concoction wafted from the kitchen, enticing his senses and stirring his appetite. It was a welcome respite from the relentless storm that still raged outside.
A staircase leading to the second floor of the building sat on the right side of the living area, walling in the kitchen which adjoined the living room at the rear. Suddenly, a shrill bark pierced the silence, reverberating through the empty halls of the upper floor. Within moments, a small, brown Pokémon came hurtling into view, scrambling down the stairs with hurried excitement. It was a creature Brendan had never encountered before, its appearance deceiving from a distance, as its zigzag patterns and bushy tail created an illusion of spines. However, as it drew closer, Brendan realized the true nature of the Pokémon, its fur adorned with those distinctive brown markings and its tail wagging with exuberance.
Reacting quickly, Brendan instinctively raised his hands in defense and lifted his knee, bracing for impact as the small Pokémon reached the foot of the stairs. With a soft landing on Brendan's shin, it regarded him with playful eyes and a large pink tongue lolling out of its mouth.
"There's no need to be scared, Brand. Zigzagoon is only saying hello."
Brendon looked up at the mention of the familiar nickname. A man had appeared at the top of the staircase, his beaming smile radiating pride. Despite the passing year, he seemed largely unchanged, with his short dark hair perhaps graying a touch more. However, his warm smile and steadfast gaze remained as reassuring as ever.
With the reassurance of his father's presence, Brendan lowered his defenses and crouched down beside Zigzagoon. The small creature squirmed its way into his arms, and he was struck by the surprisingly soft texture of its fur. Returning the Pokémon's affectionate gaze, Brendan softly scratched the creature beneath it's chin, "Is that the species name or the one you gave her?"
"The name of the species." Norman grinned as he descended the stairs, "I haven't decided if I am going to keep her - so no nickname yet."
Zigzagoon wriggled free from Brendan's grasp, its furry form sliding across the polished floors with nimble agility. It reached Norman's feet as he met the foot of the stairs, its eyes brimming with adoration as it pranced around him, a picture of pure joy. In response, Norman dipped his fingers into a pouch hanging from his belt, retrieving a small pink Pokéblock. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it into the air, and Zigzagoon leaped up, capturing the treat in its mouth with a swift and skillful maneuver. The sharp fang of the Pokémon punctured the Pokéblock before it settled on the floor, curling up to savor its newfound snack.
Closing the distance between them, Brendan approached his father, and they shared their first embrace in a year. As they pulled apart, Norman's grin illuminated the room as he gazed down at his son, his hands resting gently on Brendan's shoulders. "I can't believe there's a young man standing right here in front of me. You were still a child when I left."
Brendan groaned playfully, shifting away from his father's touch. "Don't do that, Dad. You've seen my face through video calls. You know what I look like."
Norman's beaming expression remained unwavering as he pulled Brendan into another heartfelt hug. "Seeing you in person is different, Brand. It fills my heart with joy. And look at you—nearly as tall as I am! Definitely not a trait from my side of the family. Your mother must be the one to thank for that. Maybe you'll even surpass Uncle Charlie in height. Who knows?"
Brendan's cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and amusement, prompting him to break free from the embrace once more. Eager to steer the conversation away from discussions of physical growth, he deftly changed the topic. "Whatever you're cooking smells amazing. Is there enough for all of us?"
Norman chuckled warmly, his hand playfully ruffling Brendan's hair through his beanie. With a glance toward the door, he mused, "Of course there's enough for you. Who else would I be cooking for? By the way, what's keeping your mother?"
Brendan gracefully lowered himself into a crouch beside Zigzagoon, his fingers finding their way to the soft fur behind the Pokémon's ears. In response, the playful creature rewarded him with a gentle lick across his hand. "She's taking a moment to breathe. We're more accustomed to the hustle and bustle of the big city, not the serenity of these empty streets being assaulted by hurricanes."
Norman's laughter reverberated through the newly built home, filling the empty halls with its robust sound. However, their mirth was abruptly interrupted by the creaking of the front door. Icy wind forcefully entered the house, carrying with it the distant rumble of thunder, as Caroline Ruby stepped inside, her suitcase trailing behind her.
"Caroline, it's lovely to see you," Norman greeted, the once radiant joy in his eyes now tempered. He took a step forward, offering to relieve her of the burden. "Here, allow me to take that for you."
Caroline hesitated, her grip tightening protectively around the suitcase as she gently pulled it away from Norman's outstretched hands. "I can handle this one myself," she murmured, her voice carrying a delicate undertone. But then, she added with a softness in her words, "Thank you for the offer. It's... nice to see you as well."
Norman's grin faded into a hint of awkwardness, yet he effortlessly cast aside any discomfort, rolling his shoulders back in a grand gesture that encompassed the entirety of the room. "Well? What do you think of the new house?"
"I must admit, I'm rather impressed," Caroline confessed, her gaze sweeping across the empty expanse of the living room before extending further into the adjoining kitchen and the tucked-away laundry room beneath the stairs. "I was expecting a home slightly smaller than the one we had before. This place is huge."
Norman's smile widened, his eyes twinkling with pride. "Brand is growing older. He'll need more space than the cramped room he's been occupying all his life, especially as he starts bringing Pokémon home." He playfully nudged Brendan's shoulder, his voice laced with mischievousness. "Or perhaps girls, eh, buddy?"
"Dad!" Brendan groaned, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
"Speaking of Pokémon, though," Norman continued, his curiosity piqued, "I'm surprised you haven't already brought out Sentret to say hello. Don't tell me you managed to evolve him in just a year?"
Brendan winced, his fingers instinctively reaching for the Pokéball hanging from his belt. "Oh, no, not yet. I just... wasn't sure if Zigzagoon would be receptive to another Pokémon, you know?"
Norman waved off Brendan's explanation with a dismissive gesture. "Zigzagoon loves other Pokémon! In fact, that's partly why I'm considering finding her a new home. She's more interested in playful encounters than actual battles. Now, come on, I'm excited to see how far the two of you have come!"
Feeling a mix of anticipation and apprehension, Brendan detached the Pokéball from his belt, his thumb finding its way to the button at its center. With a swift flick of his wrist, he launched the Pokéball into the air, and as it opened above their heads, a radiant burst of digital energy swirled through the atmosphere, coalescing into the form of a small brown mammal on the floor.
Sentret, the newly released Pokémon, perked up instantly at the sight of its unfamiliar surroundings. Balancing on its long, brown tail, it surveyed the new environment with wide-eyed curiosity. Eager to greet the potential playmate, Zigzagoon bounded toward Sentret with unbridled joy, coming to a sudden halt just before the smaller Pokémon and delivering a slobbery lick across its face.
Brendan winced, a mixture of concern and regret flooding his features as he witnessed the unexpected and unfortunate interaction between Zigzagoon and Sentret. In the past year, he had come to learn that Sentret was not fond of unsolicited contact. He lunged forward, desperate to intervene and prevent any harm, but his efforts proved futile. In one swift motion, Sentret swiped its arm, its sharp claws leaving a trail of crimson across Zigzagoon's face. Using its own sizable tail as a springboard, Sentret propelled itself away, leaving specks of blood splattered across the pristine wooden floor. Whimpering in pain, Zigzagoon sought solace behind Norman's protective leg.
Sentret, however, scurried into the adjacent laundry room, seeking refuge within its confines. Brendan, unable to meet his father's gaze, swiftly pursued the small mammal, finding it now positioned at the heart of the laundry room, standing gracefully on its tail, its oval-shaped ears alert and attuned to the surroundings. It listened intently, as if searching for some form of solace or understanding.
"In the name of all that is holy - Brendan! What was that?" Norman barked out behind him as Brendan fell to his knees before his terrified little Pokemon. Cautiously, he extended a hand out towards the creature.
"It's okay buddy…"
To Brendan's dismay, his father appeared in the doorway just in time to witness Sentret sink its teeth into his outstretched finger, drawing droplets of blood. With a surge of fear, the creature scurried away once more, finding refuge between the washer and dryer. Overwhelmed by a sense of defeat and humiliation, Brendan sank back on his shins, nursing his injured finger, and hung his head in shame. He called out for Caroline, his voice tinged with vulnerability, "Mom... I think you're going to need to calm Sentret down again."
His father's hand, gentle and comforting, found its way to Brendan's shoulder, providing a momentary respite from the turmoil. Meanwhile, Caroline slipped by them and knelt before the washer, her voice a soothing balm as she encouraged Sentret to emerge from its hiding place. Brendan, overwhelmed with a mixture of emotions, spoke with a tremor. "I tried to train him - I promise I did. But he always seemed to favor Mom over me."
As if to punctuate Brendan's words, with seemingly effortless grace, Caroline succeeded in coaxing Sentret out of its sanctuary. Extending her hand, she beckoned to the mammal, and with a quick scamper, Sentret ascended her arm, settled on her shoulder, and finally found a perch on the back of her head. It was a gesture that felt almost mocking, reinforcing Brendan's perception of Sentret's preference for his mother's company.
"Brand, buddy, stand up. Come on," Norman urged, extending a supportive hand to help his child rise. He gently guided Brendan to face him, emphasizing their eye contact. "You have nothing to be ashamed of here. Training Pokémon is both a profound and challenging journey. It's not something that comes easily to anyone. Perhaps it was unwise of me to leave you and Sentret without proper guidance in your training."
"I beg your pardon?" Caroline interjected, her voice firm as she rose from the floor and placed her hands on her hips. "I want you to know that we put in countless hours training Sentret. He had someone there to guide him."
"Based on what I just witnessed, it seems that guidance fell short," Norman replied coldly. Caroline's expression shifted, a mix of shock and disbelief. As Norman guided Brendan back into the living area, he continued, "Sometimes, certain Pokémon require extensive training to adapt to human society. It appears that Sentret may have experienced some form of trauma with a human in the past, and unfortunately, your mother wasn't able to teach you how to build trust with a hesitant Pokémon."
Norman responded with a mocking shrug, his words laced with sarcasm. "I expected you to take enough interest in your child's life to actually support him in pursuing his dreams!"
Caroline folded her arms defiantly and scoffed. "I've taken more than enough interest. I uprooted my life and moved across the ocean to ensure that our child can have both parents actively involved in his life. Don't you dare imply that I haven't been there!"
The escalating argument seemed to startle Sentret, causing the Pokémon to retreat from Caroline's head and seek solace within the hood of her rain jacket. In that moment, the fight seemed to drain out of Norman. His shoulders slumped, and he leaned against the kitchen countertop in defeat. "Look, I'm sorry. Lately, I've become overly protective of my Pokémon's well-being. Seeing Zigzagoon attacked unprovoked like that didn't sit right with me."
Concerned for Zigzagoon's well-being, Brendan interjected, searching the room for the playful Pokémon, "Is she going to be alright?"
Norman grimaced and nodded. "It was just a scratch, Brendan. But as I mentioned before, Zigzagoon is more inclined towards affection than battling."
Caroline spitefully jabbed at her former partner, "So, was a single scratch worth such an extreme reaction, then?" Norman sighed heavily, hanging his head in shame.
"Brand, why don't you go upstairs and check out your new bedroom?" Norman suggested, his voice tinged with remorse. "I think the clock in there needs to be set to the correct time, so maybe you can take care of that while your mother and I have a talk. We need to sort some things out."
Brendan winced, feeling the weight of the tension in the room. He obediently left his parents in an uncomfortable silence and ascended the stairs, seeking refuge in his new bedroom. From below, his father's voice echoed, offering a small semblance of guidance. "End of the hall, Brand!"
Brendan located the correct door and stepped into his new room, taking care to close it behind him to muffle the strained voices of his parents resonating through the corridors. The expansive space dwarfed the modest accommodations he had been accustomed to in Johto, yet any sense of joy was overshadowed by his current state of defeat. If only he had invested more effort in training Sentret, their arrival in Littleroot Town might not have spiraled into such a calamitous situation. With a heavy heart, Brendan slowly traversed the room, finally reaching the nearby window where he wearily leaned his forehead against the cool glass, gazing out into the tempestuous night.
His window overlooked a neighboring house, its presence parallel to his own, separated only by a wooden fence. Through the half-drawn cherry red curtains of the opposing window, dim interior lights illuminated the room within, offering Brendan a blurred glimpse into his neighbor's bedroom, distorted by rain droplets trickling down the glass.
The vivid red and pink colors that themed the bedroom and the countless Pokémon plushies adorned the bed, dresser, and walls, bringing an air of cheerfulness and innocence. As he observed this playful display, a pang of curiosity stirred within him, wondering about the family residing there and whether their lives were filled with more joy than the turmoil that had accompanied his own recent move. It seemed likely, he mused.
A sudden streak of lightning slashed through the darkened sky, briefly illuminating the surroundings. In that fleeting moment, Brendan's peripheral vision caught a glimpse of a figure standing amidst the rain, seemingly just beyond the fence. Startled, he instinctively shifted his gaze to the neighbor's backyard, but as the world plunged back into darkness, he couldn't discern the truth of what he had witnessed. He squinted through the rain-spattered glass, desperately searching for any sign that it hadn't been a figment of his imagination or a mere trick of the lightning. Minutes passed, his eyes straining, until he reluctantly accepted that it was either a neighbor standing outside in the downpour or his own mind playing tricks on him.
A shiver ran down Brendan's spine as he stepped away from the window, his thoughts consumed by the enigmatic figure he thought he had glimpsed. Something about it felt off, unsettling. The notion lingered in his mind, casting a shadow over his newfound room.
He turned his attention to the motionless analog clock hanging on the wall near the door, its hands frozen in time. Yet, as he glanced back at the window one last time, an unsettling thought echoed through his mind: he almost could have sworn that there had been a person out there, someone observing him in the midst of the storm.
Despite the surface calm that had settled over the household upon Brendan's return downstairs, an undercurrent of tension flowed between his parents. As they gathered around the dinner table, conversation was sparse, with Caroline contributing little while Norman and Brendan engaged in animated discussion about their forthcoming adventures in Hoenn.
Between bites of food, Norman couldn't contain his excitement. "I can't wait to show you around the gym," he exclaimed. "The Pokémon League in Hoenn has a vibrant atmosphere. I face multiple challenges almost every day I'm there."
Curiosity brimming, Brendan leaned forward. "Have you experienced many losses since it opened?"
Norman chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "A few, indeed. There are some exceptional trainers in this region. Maybe one day, you'll be able to take on your old man and claim a victory. But let me tell you, I won't go easy on you just because you're my son."
Brendan laughed, though a tinge of doubt echoed within him. Could he ever truly surpass his father's strength? "By the way, where is the gym? I couldn't spot it as we arrived. What does it look like?"
An eerie silence fell over the table in response to Brendan's innocent question. Norman's eyes averted, a flicker of irritation crossing his face as he directed a pointed glare at Caroline. "I thought you were going to tell him," he snapped.
Caroline's response came with a lazy, edgeless tone. "I believed he should hear it from you."
The clatter of cutlery hitting the plate filled the air as Norman dropped his fork, startling Sentret enough to leap from Caroline's hood and scamper back into the laundry room. Brendan's gaze followed the small creature's retreat, concern etched on his features.
Norman's frustration simmered. "Could you have at least informed me that you weren't going to tell him? I could have prepared for this."
Brendan furrowed his brows, confusion clouding his expression. "Prepared for what?" he asked.
Caroline's sigh carried a sense of defeat as she pushed her chair back, leaving her half-eaten dinner behind. "Why should I need to instruct you to communicate with your own child?" she muttered. Rising from the table, she added, "I think I'll turn in early. After the long drive and the emotional rollercoaster tonight, I simply need some solitude and rest."
Before ascending the stairs, she leaned down to plant a kiss on Brendan's head. "Goodnight, kiddo. I love you more than anything. I'll see you in the morning."
Once Caroline had departed, Brendan turned his attention back to his father. "So, what is it you have to tell me?"
Norman's heavy sigh echoed through the room as he set aside his plate and clasped his hands on the tabletop, preparing himself for a difficult revelation. "There's no easy way to say this, but... I don't actually live in Littleroot, Brand."
Time seemed to suspend, and the roar of the storm outside faded into the background as Brendan grappled with the revelation. Had he misheard his father? Why would they go through the trouble of moving across the ocean only to live in separate towns? Stunned, Brendan could only manage a spluttered, "What?"
Norman's grimace confirmed the truth. "I reside in Petalburg City. That's where my gym is located."
Rising from his chair, Brendan's frustration erupted as he slammed his hands down on the table. "We passed Petalburg on the way here! It's nearly a four-hour journey!"
"I'm aware, Brand," Norman admitted, his voice laced with regret. He rubbed his hands wearily across his face. "Moving internationally comes with its challenges. The cost of houses in Petalburg is considerably higher than here. I understand this isn't ideal, and believe me, I hate it as much as you do. But at this moment, it's the best we can manage."
Tears of frustration welled up in Brendan's eyes as he shook his head. "I thought this year was going to be different."
Norman's heart ached at his son's anguish. He rose from his chair, eager to console him. "Oh, Brand, please don't feel that way. Having you and your mother here in Hoenn with me will make things so much better. I promise you, I won't miss a thing. Maybe once you've settled in, we can discuss the possibility of you spending time with me every other week. How does that sound?"
Brendan offered a meek shrug. "I don't know."
Norman's face softened with sadness, and he enveloped Brendan in a comforting embrace. "Things will be better this year, Brand. I promise."
The newfound Ruby household stood engulfed in a symphony of thundering rain, its empty halls and rooms amplifying the intensity. Within this soundscape, Caroline Ruby's presence was marked by the rhythmic gliding of her suitcase over the polished wooden floors, accompanied by the staccato clacking of her shoes against the boards.
Entering the master bedroom, she was met with a space that dwarfed the room she had left behind in Olivine City. The expanse of the room, devoid of furnishings and decorations, only served to magnify the hollowness that resided within her chest. Floor-to-ceiling windows adorned the southern wall, revealing a gloomy backyard beyond. With no curtains to shield them, the windows stood like gateways into the tempestuous unknown.
Norman had thoughtfully prepared an inflatable mattress for her to sleep on during their first night in this new home, but as time passed, the mattress had begun to deflate. Undeterred, Caroline positioned her suitcase before her knees and gingerly lowered herself onto the diminishing cushion. She felt a sinking sensation, both physical and emotional, as the mattress yielded beneath her weight.
Doubts and worries about the decision to uproot their lives and move across the ocean had been a constant presence in Caroline's mind ever since Norman first proposed the idea. However, it was in this solitary moment, reclining on the deflating mattress, that the gravity of her uncertainty crystallized. The foreboding storm raging outside seemed to echo her internal turmoil, as if the natural world itself was sounding an alarm, warning her of the upheaval that awaited her.
The clash between the elements and her inner doubts created a tempest of unease, leaving Caroline questioning whether she had made the right choice in embarking on this journey to Hoenn. In the face of nature's ominous symphony, she couldn't help but wonder if it was a premonition, a harbinger of the turmoil her world was about to be thrust into.
With a deep breath, Caroline rose from the deflating mattress and turned her attention to her suitcase. Her fingers deftly maneuvered the rotating code lock, a testament to the countless times she had secured its contents. As the lock released, she carefully lifted the lid, revealing the treasures hidden within.
In an instant, the barren room was transformed as a brilliant red glow spilled forth, overpowering the sterile white light emanating from the ceiling fixtures. The radiant aura cascaded across the space, reaching out into the yard beyond, as if announcing its presence with unwavering confidence. Within the confines of her luggage, nestled amidst a protective nest of foam, resided the object that had solidified her resolve—a glass sphere that exuded an ethereal, ruby-hued radiance.
To the casual observer, it may have appeared to be nothing more than a beautifully crafted orb. However, Caroline knew its true significance, for it held a legacy that spanned generations of her family. This precious heirloom, entrusted to her care, was now on the cusp of fulfilling its destined purpose. It was the Ruby Orb, a relic intertwined with the history of Hoenn itself.
As she gazed upon the luminous sphere, a surge of emotions welled up within her. Love for her child had undoubtedly played a part in her decision to move to Hoenn, but it was the profound connection to her family's past, embodied in the Ruby Orb, that had ultimately sealed her fate. In that moment, Caroline knew she had made the right choice, for she was not only embracing a new chapter in her life but also embarking on a journey intertwined with the heritage and destiny of her lineage. The return of the Ruby Orb to Hoenn marked the beginning of a new era, and she would play a vital role in its unfolding.
While the majority of Littleroot's residents sought refuge in the comfort of their heated homes, relishing warm dinners and snug beds, there was one enigmatic figure who dared to defy the raging storm. Positioned in the backyard of the newly established Ruby household, Shelly Izumi watched intently, her eyes concealed behind a pair of specialized night vision goggles. The relentless downpour was deflected by the towering and slender Lombre hovering protectively over her head, its wide lilypad acting as a shelter, keeping her entirely dry.
From her vantage point, she had observed the arrival of the moving truck, its rumbling engine announcing its presence in the driveway. She had witnessed the teenage boy, swift and eager, leaping out of the cabin and darting into the house. Shelly's fingers delicately brushed against the earpiece nestled in her left ear, silencing the melodic strains that had accompanied her. With a subtle click, she established a connection on the communication line.
"Matt. Are you there?" she inquired, her voice laced with urgency.
The front door slammed shut behind the teenage boy, and within moments, the mother hastily unbuckled her seatbelt and forced open the driver's door. Undeterred by the ferocity of the weather, she made her way to the back of the truck. Caroline Ruby, her determination etched on her face, lifted the rear door, disappearing momentarily from sight.
"Yeah, bro. Got an update?" Matt's voice crackled through the earpiece, laced with anticipation.
Caroline emerged once again from the truck's rear, the rolling door falling shut behind her. Illuminated by a sudden flash of lightning, she trudged forward, dragging a dark suitcase in her wake, braving the tempestuous elements as she approached the front door of her new abode.
"They've just arrived," Shelly reported, her gaze shifting upward to meet her Lombre's eyes. Tenderly, she patted the Pokémon's shoulder, silently communicating her command. The obedient creature climbed onto her shoulders, shielding her from the cascading rain, allowing her to rise from her crouched position unscathed. "All three family members are safely inside. I'm preparing to engage the moving truck. The storm should keep them indoors for a while longer."
"Keep safe, bro," Matt's voice resonated in her ear as Shelly deftly navigated the garden, purposefully keeping low to evade detection should anyone glance out of the first-floor windows at that very moment.
Stealthily evading the view of the Ruby household, Shelly skillfully slipped by the passenger side of the truck's cabin, disappearing from their sight. She circled around to the rear of the vehicle, where she exerted her strength to lift the roller door. As she peered into the interior of the moving truck, her eyes met a chaotic scene, dominated by furniture and countless boxes, forming an impenetrable maze of personal belongings. Frustration welled within her, prompting Shelly to glance up at the Lombre perched upon her shoulders.
"I'll need your claws, buddy," she requested, her voice laced with determination. "Slice open a few of these boxes for me."
With precision and obedience, Lombre complied, skillfully slashing through the tape sealing several boxes, granting Shelly access to their contents. The first box revealed an overwhelming surplus of plates, far more than a small family would ever require. The second box unveiled the disheveled attire of a weary mother who had long lost the desire to put effort into her appearance. After rummaging through numerous boxes filled with personal effects, Shelly instructed her Lombre to rest, regaining her focus on Matt.
"This family seems to have accumulated a vast amount of useless personal belongings, most of which I can't even reach," she relayed her findings. "This might not yield immediate results."
"No problem, bro. Take your time. The boss won't be back for another three days. You've got a window of opportunity," Matt reassured her through the communication device.
Shelly returned to her surveillance post at the rear of the Ruby household, resuming her watchful gaze. Before long, the teenage boy emerged at an upstairs window on the left side of the house. Shelly was confident that the dim and overcast weather would shield her from his prying eyes. However, a sudden and ill-timed flash of lightning momentarily illuminated the surroundings, causing the teenager's gaze to dart in her direction.
Unbeknownst to Brendan, he and Shelly locked eyes in an uncomfortable, silent encounter. Minutes dragged on, filled with tension, until finally, Brendan withdrew from the window, and Shelly released a relieved breath. Another bolt of lightning at that moment would have undoubtedly exposed her presence.
A while later, Caroline, visibly fatigued, made her way into the master bedroom, which offered a direct view of the backyard. Shelly's watchful eyes followed the weary mother as she collapsed onto a rapidly deflating air mattress, engulfed in a cloud of self-pity. In that moment, Shelly silently acknowledged the relief of never having burdened herself with the responsibility of raising a child—she couldn't fathom a greater shackle than motherhood.
Eventually, Caroline sat up and leaned forward, her fingers tinkering with something. Suddenly, a brilliant ruby glow flooded the room, overpowering the sterile white lights and casting its radiance over the garden. Shelly straightened her posture, her finger instinctively finding its place on the earpiece.
"Matt, I have visual confirmation of the orb. It's already in the house—looks like the mother keeps it close," she reported, her voice filled with anticipation.
"Are you going in, bro?" Matt's voice crackled through the earpiece.
"Not with the gym leader still present," Shelly responded, a tinge of frustration evident in her tone. "I'll have to wait for him to leave. But once he's gone, I'll make my move. That orb will be ours."
Authors Note:
This was a lot of fun to write! My goal for this story is to add a little bit of depth to the characters and people of Hoenn while also telling a story that is both new and familiar! If you made it this far, I hope you enjoyed!