N hurriedly hid behind a clump of trees at the roadside, for the path was clear and not obstructed by anything that would limit the blue-suited group's view. As he watched, the five men nearly ran down the road and vanished into the patch of tall grass. He waited a few seconds before starting cautiously after them.
They were moving even faster now; the three of them who were not burdened with the package were glancing nervously about them. N followed them past a small, squat house by a dock and closer to the sea shore. He crouched low in the grass and peered over the tips of the long green stalks to see the blue-suited men make for the ocean at breakneck speed. They piled into a small lifeboat sitting on the beach and rowed into the shallow waters. Looking closer, N realized that they were headed for a sleek black boat that was bobbing in the waves a little ways from the shore. He waited until the men had climbed aboard, hoisted their package after them, and he could hear the thrum of the boat's engine over the gentle rolling of the waves before he dared to move.
He really needed to find Hazel, he told himself again as he moved back through the patch of tall grass, away from the beach. But the blue-suited men reminded him far too much of Team Plasma, and the suspicious way they moved with the package insinuated that they had stolen it. He needed to find out who they were, where they were going, and what they were intending to do. Hazel was a brave girl, and she could take care of herself. Besides, N thought, perhaps he had been a bit too hard on her…
He shook the thought away. Now was really not the time. He needed to go after the blue-suited men before it was too late.
He reached the cottage he had passed earlier while pursuing the group. The small building looked to be on the verge of collapsing, its walls creaking every time a gale blew in from the sea. A sign was leaning up beside the door. N had to squint at the words for several seconds before he could discern the words, "Mr. Briney's Cottage."
The dock beside the cottage looked equally shabby. Its planks were rotten and worn by seawater, and chunks were missing from a few. A questionable watercraft was tethered to the end of the dock. It was dirty, spotted, and seemed to have once been painted white, and it was drastically different from the glossy black vessel in which the blue-suited men had sailed away. For one, N wasn't sure it could withstand a single push from its own motor.
Judging by the cottage and the boat, N deduced that Mr. Briney - or whoever occupied the little shack - must have had some acquaintance with the sea. He should be able to glean some information from a short conversation.
Just as he was about to knock on the peeling door, something flew over his head and gave an earsplitting caw. N spun his head around and saw that his assailant was a Wingull. It circled the roof of the cottage and flew at him again, its sharp beak glinting dangerously in the sunlight. N barely had time to duck.
"Calm down," he said to it, utilizing his unique gift. "I come as a friend."
The Wingull only shrieked again.
N frowned.
He warily showed his palms in surrender and sent out another thought to it, "I'm not here to hurt anyone, I promise -"
The Wingull swooped down again, barely missing N with its sharp claws.
The door to the cottage opened.
"Would you stop that ruckus, Peeko!"
N turned to see an old man standing at the door. He had a bald head, a full white beard, and two bushy eyebrows that were angled in a steep "V" shape.
The Wingull cawed obligingly and landed on the edge of the roof, where it - no, N could now see that it was a she - glared down at the stranger with distrust.
"Well, what do you want, young lad?" the old man demanded.
N was surprised by the old man's choice of words. There was no way he could still look like a "young lad." Then again, maybe when he was as old as the man before him everyone else would seem young to him.
"Are you Mr. Briney?" he asked.
"Aye, I am," the old man answered.
"Are you a sailor?" N said, glancing at the weatherbeaten boat at the end of the dock.
"Aye," Mr. Briney said again. "Used to be the most fearless of me day. My trusty vessel and I - and Peeko of course - we could take anything the sea could throw at us." He raised an eyebrow at N. "Well, you haven't told me why you're here yet. You ain't part of that shady bunch that just left, are you?"
"No, I'm not," N assured him. "I followed them all the way from Rustboro, actually, and I'd like to see what they're up to."
"Up to no good, that's what they're up to," the old man pronounced. "Got Peeko's feathers all up in a bunch, that's for sure. I'm sorry she behaved that way to you."
Peeko chirped indignantly.
"It's no problem," N said, smiling faintly.
"You want me to help you trail them, no doubt."
N nodded. "But if it's too much trouble -"
"No, of course not. They'll be heading to Dewford. I'm sure of it, or else I'm no sailor," Mr. Briney said energetically. "My bones may have turned to jelly, but my spirit's still in me. Anchors aweigh! Peeko, we're setting sail, my darling!"
He lumbered out onto the dock, and N followed him hesitantly.
"Say, you haven't told me your name, young lad," Mr. Briney said as he unwound the tether from its post.
"Ah, just call me N." They boarded the boat, Peeko circling above their heads.
"N?" Mr. Briney repeated, shaking his head. "Young lads these days, they all have the strangest names."
N didn't bother to answer because the boat's engine had just roared to life. In truth, he felt as old as Mr. Briney looked, and he couldn't help but believe that he would never be young again.
Mr. Truesdale steered his now-empty bus - Bertha - into the parking lot of the touring company. With the tourists sent off, he found that his shoulders felt lighter and his breathing easier. He hummed tunelessly as he walked into the company building, spinning Bertha's keys around his forefinger. He took the elevator to the second floor and knocked on the office door of the transportation manager.
"Come in," a muffled voice said through the wood.
Mr. Truesdale let himself in and left the door ajar behind him. "I just wanted to hand these in -" he began quietly, holding up the keys.
"Ah, hello! It's nice to see you again," the manager said affably, standing to shake his hand. "How can I help you?"
"I… I just wanted to give these back to you." He transferred the keys to the other man's palm and cleared his throat. "Thank you for allowing me to give a tour. It was a really eye-opening experience."
The manager smirked. "You said that's what you wanted."
"Yes, it was. Exhausting, but still very fascinating at the same time. However, I don't think I'll be coming back anytime soon."
"Well, just keep in mind that you're always welcome," the manager said with a smirk.
"Of course," Mr. Truesdale said. "Thank you."
"No problem. I'll be seeing you sometime, I guess."
"Goodbye."
Mr. Truesdale took his time exiting the building. Although it was tiring, the tour had truly been rather exciting, and now he almost dreaded returning to his… regular duties.
There was, however, another option. He could take a small break before resuming his busy schedule. A vacation somewhere quiet, peaceful, preferably close to the sea, and still interesting would be ideal. Mr. Truesdale's smiled as a place came into his mind.
Dewford Town.
"I think Liliana will have to resign her gym leader position soon," Aiden joked. "She nearly lost it after Ebony defeated her."
"Anyone would be unhappy if they were beaten three times in a row," Hazel said. "I'm sure Liliana will recover, though. She's a good battler."
Aiden nodded and nudged Ebony beside him. "I think you did remarkably well for your first gym battle, Ebony. You played around that Shroomish's Effect Spore ability perfectly with your Ralts."
Ebony only grunted in reply.
Hazel couldn't understand her friend. Ever since she had met up with Ebony again, the other girl seemed grouchy and only shot Hazel scathing glares whenever Hazel tried to speak with her. Ebony hadn't been so irritable back home, and she was content enough when she was around her Pokemon. Furthermore, their new friend, Aiden, was as cheery as possible and never uttered an unkind word to either of them, so Hazel was baffled by the situation.
Unless - it was her own fault?
Hazel pushed the thought away. She had been friends with Ebony since they were toddlers. Ebony would have said something if it was Hazel who was bothering her, and Hazel was sure she hadn't done anything recently to cause Ebony to suddenly hate her.
But still, the problem remained.
Hazel shook her head. It was useless to continue pondering the situation without any more clues. She would just have to wait until Ebony decided to speak up.
"Hazel, hurry up! Do you want to get left behind?"
Aiden's voice jerked her back to the present. She looked up, realizing they had already made their way out of Petalburg and were now on Route 104. The city behind them looked like a cluster of small dollhouses.
She ran to catch up to the other two. "Sorry," she muttered.
"It's no problem." Aiden grinned. "What were you thinking about, anyways?"
"Nothing," Hazel said quickly, then decided it would be best to change the topic. "Uh… Where's the next gym we're going to challenge?"
"I looked it up on the map last night, and it seems that the closest gym is in Dewford Town, which is a short journey by boat from here," Aiden replied. "Unless either of you don't like the water and want to travel all the way to Rustboro City…"
"No, I'm okay with going to Dewford," Hazel said. "Ebony?"
"It's fine."
Suddenly, the peaceful sounds of rolling waves were pierced by a harsh cry that seemed to split the very air. Hazel glanced about her for the source of the outburst. It had sounded like a Pokemon cry - an extremely angry Pokemon or a Pokemon in extreme pain.
"There!" Aiden exclaimed.
He dashed toward a clump of rustling tall grass. Hazel watched with bated breath as he dove into the tangled stalks, grabbed something, and pulled it out with extreme difficulty.
"Got you!" he said through clenched teeth.
Hazel could see what Aiden was holding now. It was a Wingull, still shrieking vulgarly, with a Shroomish firmly attached to its head.
"Help me get it off," Aiden said frantically, brandishing the Wingull-Shroomish at Hazel. She had no choice but to grab the top of the Shroomish's head and hold on with all her might while Aiden pulled at the Wingull.
With a wet pop, the Shroomish released its hold. Hazel fell back, and the Shroomish landed on the ground with an undignified squeal. Its simple face contorted into an infuriated expression as it hopped around in a circle, glaring at its tormentors.
Suddenly, it launched itself at Hazel. A small scream of terror that she knew Aiden would later relentlessly tease her about escaped her lips. She squeezed her eyes shut and threw up her hands, intending bat away the Shroomish.
But her fingers only met empty air.
She opened her eyes tentatively. The Shroomish was gone. In its place was a Pokeball, wiggling furiously at her feet. After a few moments, the Pokeball stilled and made a faint clicking sound, indicating that it had sealed. Aiden stepped forward and picked it up.
"I guess I have a Shroomish now," he said, regarding the Pokeball with surprise.
Hazel began laughing.
"I didn't mean to catch it," he protested. "It jumped at you, and I threw the first thing I put my hand on." He laughed, then added, "Honestly, I thought it was Mudkip's Pokeball."
"It's not funny," Ebony said, frowning. "The Wingull is hurt."
"You're right," Aiden said quickly, pulling on a straight face.
The three of them rushed over to the Wingull where it was sprawled in the dirt. Ebony scooped it up gingerly. She ran her fingers over its wings, and Hazel saw her breath a small sigh of relief when the Wingull didn't squawk in pain.
"It's fine. Nothing's broken. It's probably just stunned." Ebony set the Pokemon back on its feet. It immediately gave a throaty cry, hopped around, and flapped its wings, shedding a few loose feathers.
"Wow, Ebony, you could be a Nurse Joy," Aiden teased.
Ebony's lips thinned and jerked at the corners, and Hazel grinned widely as she realized that this was the first time since leaving home that she had seen Ebony smile. She opened her mouth to tell Ebony that indeed, she looked like she belonged in a Nurse Joy uniform, when another cry broke the newly-restored stillness of Route 104 - this one most certainly human.
"Peeko!" was what Hazel thought she heard.
At the sound, the Wingull came to attention. It opened its beak and gave a shrill squawk, then rushed off into the tall grass in the direction of the sound, half flying and half hopping.
"We have to follow it," Hazel said.
The three of them went after the Wingull, wading through the sea of tall grass, the thick stalks slapping at their chests and faces. The Wingull had finally succeeded in taking to the air and was flapping its wings furiously above them, its feathers detaching and falling to their heads.
"Peeko!" came the cry again.
The patches of tall grass vanished, and they were running up a slight slope now. Hazel could see a cottage up ahead. An old man stood at the door, squinting into the sun with his hand shading his eyes.
"Peeko -" he yelled. "Ah, there you are!"
The Wingull flew to the old man and landed clumsily on his shoulder. It squawked again, sounding almost complacent.
"Is that your Wingull, sir?" Aiden asked, when the three of them had reached the cottage.
"Aye, this is my darling Peeko," the old man said, and his Wingull nipped his ear fondly. "Did you young'uns find her in trouble?"
Aiden related the story of how they had found Peeko with a Shroomish stubbornly attached to her head and how he and Hazel had freed her of her tormentor.
"Oh, my!" the old man exclaimed once Aiden had finished. "It seems that Peeko has you to thank for her life. You three are Pokemon trainers, aren't you?"
Hazel, Ebony, and Aiden nodded.
"Well, I'll be glad if I can do anything I can do for you," the old man continued. "Tea? Or some potions for your Pokemon?"
"No, thank you. We'll be on our way," Ebony said brusquely.
She turned away, and Aiden, after raising a hand in farewell to the old man, followed her. But Hazel lingered behind. She took in the weathered boat tethered to the end of the dock by the cottage, then the old man's lined faced, rough from what must be years of sea spray and turbulent winds.
"Wait," she said. "There is something you could do for us."
Ebony and Aiden had paused and turned back. The old man beamed. "And what is that, young lass?"
"Can you take us to Dewford Town?"
A/N: I've missed writing this fic so much, but I doubt the next update will be anytime soon. I'm just juggling too much stuff... However, I have not given up on this - the plot is just too intricate. Just to be clear, I'm not making any promise that I'll definitely finish it. I'm just saying that I still intend to write it.
Until next time, Reader.