Chapter VIII

Entry #36:

I've decided to go and explore Hoenn.

Find the maps.

Not steal them, of course. But the Diplomats are called... well, Diplomats. Perhaps we can work something out. A deal of some sort. I would hate to resort to any sort of violence with any of the Diplomats of Hoenn.

August needed to prove herself, apparently, before she became a professional map thief.

In the night, Petalburg seemed somehow brighter. It was like the moonlight was liquid magic, pouring across the fields, making the buttercups more gold and the grass more green – if that was even possible.

Or, perhaps, it was the adrenaline forcing August to go mad.

August peered through the shrub of roses, where thorns dangled only inches from her cheeks. Her whole face was flushed red as she stared at the small child, sitting on a bench with a Ralts. The Ralts gently placed its hand on her nose, and the girl giggled. August felt her stomach drop. Even Dare, her Zigzagoon, that had clung onto her boot with its teeth because the blasted thing was hungry and wouldn't stay with the others, made a low whine.

She turned her head to Wally, beside her, who hadn't uttered a word since they had left Norman. They had followed this poor little girl all day – supposedly because the Pokémon she had, a Ralts, was incredibly rare.

And now, August had to prove herself.

By stealing it.

August took a step back from the shrub. Wally glanced sharply at her.

"I don't think I can do this," she whispered.

"I thought you said you were once a pirate?"

He didn't say it in a biting way – rather, a genuine, baffled question. Still, his small voice made August tense.

"I was a child," she pointed out.

"What's so different about being a child?"

"I didn't know what right or wrong was."

Wally nodded thoughtfully at this. Then, turning back towards the shrub, he pointed a finger towards the little girl with her Ralts.

"She's a child, too," he said.

"So?"

"She won't know what right or wrong is, either."

August could have reached out to shake his shoulders. He was too frail, though – too thin, and his limbs always seemed to shake. So, she gave him a bewildered stare.

"I think she'll definitely know that us stealing her Ralts is a wrong thing to do."

"How? I thought you said children didn't know the difference between right or wrong."

Touché.

August bit back her grumble. Her mother had always said it was impolite.

Her mother also probably wouldn't approve of her stealing a child's Pokémon, though.

"I'll distract her," Wally finally said. "You grab the Ralts."

Then, he advanced, calling out for the girl, his eyes friendly. The girl immediately looked up, her Ralts quivering beside her. "Hello, sir?"

"Hello. I was wondering—"

Then, quick as silver, Wally had dropped something from his hand – a flask – and tripped over it. He landed onto the ground with a slam, grunting, his eyes grim. Immediately, the girl was by his side, crying out for help.

"It's okay, lass," Wally was saying softly. "I'll be okay. Could you perhaps just run and call a nurse from the town? Or maybe Norman? I fear I may be bleeding."

The girl tilted her head to the side. "I don't see blood—"

"Internal bleeding, lass. You can't see inside my lungs, can ye?"

That made her nod. "Ralts, come—"

"The Ralts should stay. To watch me. Make sure I'm okay."

This made the small girl look dubious. August found herself holding her breath.

Then, the child pelted through the night, screaming out for help. Wally glanced up, right at the bushes where August hid, giving her a pointed look.

Go.

August moved out, cautiously stepping towards Wally, towards the Ralts. The little thing didn't even really have eyes, did it? It would be easy. All she had to do was snatch it up into her hand before the little girl returned, run away, let Wally craft some lies and—

August felt her heart rattling in her chest. Dare bit deeper into her boot.

She couldn't just steal a little girl's Pokémon, could she?

Wally was hissing at her now. Urgently beckoning at her with his eyes.

For her uncle.

For Steven.

For the Sea Temple.

She lunged out, swinging her arm for the Ralts. She felt its body – soft silk in her palm, a tiny little heartbeat doing little taps in her hand.

Then, she couldn't feel the heartbeat.

For a horrible second, she thought she had killed it. That she had squeezed too tight and crushed its insides.

Then, she realised the Ralts simply was no longer in her hands.

August nearly cursed.

The blasted thing had teleported.

She saw it through the corner of her eye, hovering close to the bench. If it made a sound – worse yet, if it teleported to its owner…

"Dare, quick!" she called out.

She wasn't sure the Zigzagoon would listen. The fuzzy thing seemed to have a perpetual teething problem, always mauling on the rubber of her boots.

Then, she saw Dare move.

The Zigzagoon darted towards the Ralts, teeth bared. Instantly, they sank into the Ralts' hand. The little thing made a desperate yelp, a ball of pink light forming, ready to blast through the Zigzagoon.

Dare was quick, though. She ducked and rolled, blinking through the fur in her eyes, and pummelled right into the Ralts again.

By then, the Ralts seemed too weak to rise. It simply gave out a soft groan from the dirt.

Instantly, August scooped it into her arm and ran, her Zigzagoon close by her. Wally was already on his feet, too, half-running and half-limping behind them.

From behind her, she heard the little girl's voice – distant and confused.

"Mister, help is on its wa—where are you going? Ralts!"

But the little girl was too slow. And, just like that, August had completed her first ever heist.

August felt all wrong, sitting in the darkness, a crumpled Ralts between herself and her uncle. Wally hadn't given her any words of congratulations or encouragement; he had simply leaned beside a tree, watching as she showed Norman their catch.

Her Pokémon, though, had listened as Dare the Zigzagoon had chattered about their quick heist. And they were all looking at her. Confused.

They had all come with her by choice. For her to take someone's Pokémon away… A small child's Ralts…

Norman examined the Ralts carefully.

"You did it," he finally said. "Well done."

Thoughtful and mechanical. She supposed it was better than him sounding exhilarated and excited over a stolen Ralts.

"Can we return it?" August asked quietly.

Norman snorted. "What?"

"Return it to its owner."

"Why, you just did."

Then, Wally was beside her again, reaching down and plucking the Ralts into his hands. He held it closely to his chest – gentle and secure – and nodded.

"It was… yours all along?" August asked. "It was all staged? You were part of it?"

Wally shrugged. "Of course I was."

But it didn't feel right. Because the way that little girl had cried out… Her sweet, big eyes…

"You've got a few things to work on, August," Norman said. "For one, you can't afford to have second thoughts. If you steal a map, you can't turn back and give the map back to the Diplomat."

"I know."

"Also, Wally reported that you were a bit too hesitant. You need to jump at every chance you get."

"Alright."

Norman's gaze softened. "I'm sorry if I seem harsh. I'm just trying to build you up into a…"

He trailed off. August could hear the words in her own head.

A pirate.

A thief.

A criminal.

It felt wrong, though. Even though she would just be stealing pieces of a map – something didn't feel right. Surely, she could just take a glance of the map, copy them onto a paper, and then run? Rather than actually stealing it?

Norman held out a piece of paper, where ink was scribbled across the pages.

August held her breath.

That… That looked like Steven's handwriting. The writing she had seen in his diary entry – especially in the pages towards the end. Curled and precise, gentle and dark.

She didn't say a word to her uncle, though. She couldn't sound obsessed.

"Here are the places you need to go," he told her. "Each one of these towns has a map."

She glanced over them. "The first one is called… Rustboro?"

"Aye. Roxanne is there. She is a teacher, and she's the softest one, too, of them all. Her map could easily be the first one that you—"

"Second, you mean?" August cut in, gesturing over to him. To the flowers around them. Norman laughed.

"First," he said again. "I don't know if it's safe to give you my map just yet. Prove to me that you can do this, alright? We can't afford to lose my map just now."

August tried not to look crestfallen. She just nodded.

She did understand it, after all. If she failed straight away, then Roxanne – or any of the Diplomats, really – could take her uncle's map.

It was too dangerous.

"Any questions?" Norman asked.

August sighed. Glanced over at her Mudkip. "How do I get the Splash Plate out of my Mudkip's belly?"

"Well, I could grab my sword and cut his stomach—"

"Actually," August quickly said, stepping back, giving a half-hearted laugh. "It's alright. It'll be fine."

Her Pokémon instantly moved around her. Her Mudkip seemed extra desperate to be out of Petalburg.

"Lass," Normal called out, just as August had started to turn.

"Aye?"

"Don't tell anyone. It's best you do this undercover."

And though the thought alone made her whole body turn cold, August nodded.

"Aye."

~.~

She kicked the flowers as she walked. Let her boots crush the little fallen petals that glowed in the dark.

She didn't know if this was the right thing to do.

Even if Steven Stone was waiting for her. Even if the Sea Temple was calling out to her, like a longing that ached with each thrum of her heart.

She could turn back now, though. Find an ocean, grab onto a Magikarp, and hope it would eventually carry her across to Sinnoh.

Because all she could think of was that little girl. The Ralts. The grimness in Wally's eyes.

It wasn't too late to forget everything and go home. It wasn't—

"August! Where the hell have you been?"

Brandon's voice was like a blade through the night. She whirled around. Norman's voice loud in her head.

Don't tell anyone. It's best you do this undercover.

"I've been with my uncle," she said.

He looked at her like she had gone mad. Even had the audacity to shake his head. "No, you haven't. I saw you hiding in shrubs. I saw you steal from a child! She had called me to help her, and I saw you running with her Ralts! What were you doing?"

It almost surprised her that Brandon had been thoughtful enough to help the little girl. She certainly hadn't considered that when she and Wally had planned the theft.

"It's none of your business," August said curtly.

For a moment, Brandon actually looked hurt. Then, all of that was wiped off his face as he scowled.

"Well, stop harassing people here," he snapped. "That is my business."

"Why were you waiting for me, anyways?" August retorted. "You took me to my uncle. You and your father can leave me be now."

Brandon's jaw dropped with disbelief. "Leave you be? Leave you be? That's it? After we tended to you, fed you, made sure you got here safely, that's it? Leave you be?"

August could feel her own frustration simmering inside her – red and hot, like the bruised roses beneath her feet.

"You've ridiculed me my whole stay here," she whispered, her words sharp. "A leave you be is the nicest thing I could say to you."

The words seemed to hit him like a punch to the gut. He stepped back, shaking his head.

"I was just starting to think you weren't suck a freak, too," he said.

"You shouldn't have."

They glared at one another. His fire against her cold, unrelenting ice.

"Goodbye, then, August."

"Goodbye."

He turned on his heel. August felt a kick in her heart.

"Wait!" she called out. "Please tell your father that I said thank—"

But he was gone before she could finish. Her words fell like the rose petals on the grass – dead and quiet.

Entry #37:

Well.

It resorted to violence anyways.

And the journey has just begun.

Arceus help us all.