Jake

"—in a nationwide effort to find answers. Now the third satellite of its kind launched, Diamond Laboratories claims that they will help scientists predict causes for various abnormal occurrences in ecosystems by providing crucial data."

The screen cut to a lanky man in a nice suit and specs. The subtext 'Quincy Malen, Diamond Laboratories Rep.' occupied the bottom of the screen.

"With the data the satellites can collect, they will be a huge boon to biologists and climatologists working to solve migratory anomalies across all four provinces," he said decisively. His words sounded plastic, but then again, everyone's probably did when they had a camera pointed at them.

My hands cupped my chin. I wasn't interested in the news, more so in the lovely aroma of grilled cheese wafting through the house. I'd skipped lunch, using the time to cram four months' worth of material for six classes. It didn't have to be that way, but it worked better for me; preferring to have more free time at home.

Something shifted on the couch next to me, a mass of orange and yellow fur—Scorch, the family Growlithe.

He had his head in his paws, slumbering soundly. I watched his chest rise and fall rhythmically as he peacefully slept. His body responded with little twitches as my hand dragged through the pleasantly warm fur of his side.

It was about time to check on the food. Doing my best not to disturb him, I got up and went to the kitchen. Grabbing the spatula, I had difficulty scooping up the sandwich; it'd been left a bit too long. The sandwich hissed loudly as I flipped it over in the pan.

"You gonna make me one, too?" came a voice over the ads on TV, somewhat shrill and youthful. No one else was in the house besides us two; the voice belonged to Scorch.

"No," I called back, pressing the sandwich into the pan more forcefully, making it hiss louder.

Scorch came home with my dad, Henry, before I was born. Henry loved to tell about a Growlithe that would join him on his morning jogs and follow him home. When the little Growlithe would be lying in the yard in the morning, that was that; my parents decided to bring him in, and he became a member of the family. Why he chose house life over living in the wild was a mystery, maybe something in his canine instinct.

Whatever the reason, it meant he couldn't provide himself with food anymore. I sighed. "...If you get your lazy ass up and out here, maybe."

I hardly had time to pour myself a glass of Moomoo Milk, the unmistakable sound of claws tapping on the linoleum floor told of his presence.

Sure enough, Scorch's slumped form sat in the doorway. Now that he wasn't curled up, I could properly look at him.

The canine had silky, cream-colored fur crowning his head, around his mouth, down his chest, underbelly, and tail. Dazzlingly orange fur covered the rest of him, minus the black stripe markings on his legs and across his back; they'd always made him look so cool.

Each forepaw had two nubs of dull-looking ivory-white claws, but I'd experienced the business end of them and knew they were more than they looked. He was show-dog material, if only at face.

"Jake," he said.

Why I could understand him without a translator was very strange. His words came naturally to me like he was speaking the same language. Maybe that was part of why he decided to live here with us? Or maybe he was-

"Jake!"

Snapping to attention to Scorch's shout, I recognized the smell of the food burning again. I pulled the pan off the active burner and cut the flame.

"Of all the ways the house could burn down, who would've guessed it'd be you making a grilled cheese?" Scorch sighed.

I stifled a laugh. His voice may be cute, but it was hard not to feel like I was getting told off by a ten-year-old.

With the spatula, our meal was split into two triangles; each half getting their own plate. I grabbed one and placed it on the floor for Scorch.

The fire dog's grouchy demeanor did a complete one-eighty as he was served, complete with a tail wag. The plate hardly had time to clack on the floor before he was face-first into its contents.

I took my share and set it along with the milk on the table. Scorch must've already finished his because the floor scratched as he pushed his plate across it, trying to get every last morsel. The gooey cheese plastered on his face was the only evidence anything was ever there.

I picked up his plate and placed it in the sink. "Geez, did you even taste it?" I asked, pleased he appreciated the food despite how badly I screwed it up.

He looked up at me innocently. "You burnt it."

I scowled. "Oh, like you cared when you literally inhaled it," I snapped over his giggling fit.

One measly grilled cheese had no chance of sating us both, so I began prepping another. The stove clicked as it ignited the gas. After flinging more butter in, the pan was still hot enough to sizzle. I hummed while two slices of fresh white bread were slathered in more butter; I preferred my sandwiches saturated.

Once the sandwiches were cooking, I turned to see Scorch at the table on his hind legs, my food trapped within his maw.

"Wha-!?" I sputtered. Scorch turned like a Stantler in headlights before darting off. "Scorch! What the fuck? I'm hungry!"

I groaned in annoyance. There wasn't any point in chasing him; he was deceptively fast. There wouldn't be anything left by the time I found him.

Taking my mind off the feeling of being wronged, I returned to work. The day was a tiring one. Classes were all trying to prepare us for finals, while my time free from class was spent with my nose in whatever textbook or worksheet. If there was any consolation, the day went by fast.

As exhausting as it was, I didn't mind it too much. It was a reminder that summer was just around the corner, which meant three full months of goofing around and doing whatever we pleased. This summer, I planned to get outdoors as much as possible.

As if on cue, the pokémon waddled back into the foyer and collapsed, his face a stringy mess of cheddar cheese. I sighed at the sight and wet a washcloth.

After a satisfying dinner, my body plopped down on the couch in my usual spot next to Scorch. He must've powered off the TV at some point, as the screen was now dark.

The pokémon lifted his head expectantly. "Ears, please."

I glared at him.

"Oh, come on," he chided. "Don't be such a baby. You got your food, so quit being grumpy. Now, ears, please."

My sulky demeanor remained, but he was giving me the look. He knew how to operate me like a machine, and it bugged me to no end, but I inevitably relented. Scorch made a pleased huff as I scratched his favorite spot behind his small floppy ears.

"Now then, how did you end up lying on the remote?"

"Oh, the remote?"Scorch said as he smirked."I dunno, but how does that human saying go? Finders keepers, snoozer leapers?"

I mirrored his smirk. "Yeah, something like that."

Scorch rolled more onto his side and off the remote, offering it to me. "Then turn the cartoon channel on. I hate listening to that lady talk."

"You're home all day, every day. Don't you want to go out and do something now that all the snow's gone?" The response came in the form of him laying his head on my leg. I sighed and took the remote. "Right, because you're actuallylazier than a Snorlax."

Scorch didn't look up to respond. "It's been a tiring day."

"As tiring as being a 'guard dog' can be."

"All day, every day; no breaks."

"The benefits are immaculate, though," I said, giving his head a few more scratches. He patted the couch impatiently with his paw. "C'mon, we're going to miss the start of whatever's on."

With the press of a few buttons, the TV flicked back on and was tuned to Scorch's desired channel. Living with a pokémon like him was like going through your life with a wound-up Primeape controlling your emotional functions, but that was alright. This was what I imagined having a sibling was like anyway.

Scorch hooted rather noisily at the TV, redirecting my attention. The show was an animated program about a young boy just old enough to begin his journey with his Skitty, along with his friends starting theirs. The basis was that the pokémon wander off from their trainers to explore on their own, often finding something entirely outlandish to do before returning; the trainers none the wiser. The show was clearly meant for children, but Scorch seemed to enjoy it.

While Scorch was captivated, I paid only intermittent attention, letting my thoughts wander to what it'd be like to go on a journey. I used to fantasize about going on one myself; what kid didn't? You'd get to see the world, be independent, and see all the different pokémon, but there were always two things holding me back: my lack of partners and the nation's lack of an official circuit.

I mentally shrugged. None of that mattered much anymore, but it never stopped me from fantasizing about all the things that could've been. Exploring all this nation had to offer, then exploring other regions with a partner pokémon by my side. That was the dream.

Checking in on my companion, he was now on his side, and I was absentmindedly rubbing through the soft, warm fur of his underbelly. His face told of how lost in bliss his canine mind was, his eyes closed and tongue spilling out his mouth.

"Well, if you ain't even gonna watch the show you insisted on watching, we might as well go out and do something," I said

"Just a little longer?" Scorch practically begged.

I stood up. "You can get all the attention you'd ever want when mom and dad get home; get your ass up; you need some exercise." He didn't budge; I shook my head. "Swear to Arceus you'll die on that sofa."

I grabbed the remote off the coffee table and clicked the TV off. "What if I said we'll go to the bakery? How does that sound?"

He perked up again.

"After we get some ball in," I added noncommittally.

He deflated again. "I'll meet you out there," he huffed and curled back into a ball; he didn't even try to hide his intention to take a snooze.

I sneered at him and went to fetch my large plastic cup, returning with it brimming with nice, cold water from the tap. Surprisingly, Scorch was already dozing.

With apathy, I took a sip from the cup before dumping the rest of its contents on him and booking it out the front, throwing the cup back at him for good measure.

The afternoon was pretty warm with the sun bearing down, but delightfully so as a soft breeze glided over the skin. Intermittent clouds overhead topped it off, creating pleasing shapes of all sizes. On such a day, the parks in town would be jam-packed with half the town picnicking and cloud watching.

Unlike an ordinary Friday afternoon, the residential was quiet and peaceful. From where one would spectate the game of street hockey, people tending to their lawns and gardens, along with the occasional jogger, was the only activity to be seen. Those who made eye contact smiled warmly and waved hello.

The town didn't attract many people, there wasn't much to it besides its short commute to the city, but that's what made it shine. Only those looking for someplace quiet found themselves here.

We stood in the unused land next door, sending the ball back and forth. We often came out to play soccer here in the summertime. Our family didn't own the land, but no one yelled at us, so we put it to some use.

I felt the energy travel from my foot to the ball as it was sent flying. Scorch was ready down the field, stopping it with his body before sending it back with his head.

"Doesn't that hurt? At all?" I asked with intrigue.

"Not as much as that water; you could've made it warmer."

I sent the ball his way again. "You got what you deserved."

He blocked it again and rolled onto his back, looking me in the eyes. "Aw, c'mon, you can't still be thinking about that. Tell you what, you can take my share tomorrow."

He was right; I was still upset at him for it but wasn't really sure why. He did this stuff all the time, and it wasn't that big a deal. Scorch wasn't a bad pokémon; school stresses just must've been getting to me.

I willed the thorny presence away. "I'm not going to not feed you; you just piss me off sometimes… fuckin' mutt," I said, muttering the last part. I wasn't sure if he'd heard me.

"I'm glad to know my master isn't a cold human," he said, still not upright. I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever," I said impassively and beckoned to him. "Pass the ball."

Scorch flipped back onto his paws before knocking the ball my way with a strong headbutt. It lost its momentum before me.

Looking past Scorch, the far end of the yard came into focus. I stepped back before winding up and giving the ball a good punt. It went further than expected, driving through the low-hanging foliage and disappearing in the forest.

"Yeah!" I bellowed. The ground thudded as my back collided with it. The grass prodded and tickled and itched where my skin was exposed.

The sun was on its way down, but the sunset was still some time off. I estimated we'd been out for about two and a half hours already, so it was probably about seven-thirty. After the long, drawn-out winter and being confined indoors, I was happy to be outdoors again.

My vision was filled with Growlithe. "Tired already?" he asked, not looking the least bit tired himself.

"Says the one that would think nothing about sleeping all day," I retorted. "There's a lot I gotta do for next week, so this works out."

"Don't forget your promise," he said quickly. His tail was wagging so fast it could've been propelling him forward.

"Ah, ah, ah," I chided. "I said if you came out with me, not after me."

Scorch's face morphed into a scowl. "No fun," he pouted, hopping off me and plopping to a sit close by.

I giggled. "Only joking," I reassured him. "There's still sun left; can't waste it, now can we?"

While getting to my feet, I noticed a Spearow watching us from a large oak tree. It didn't live there, but its favorite spot seemed to be perched in that tree. It was there during my morning walk to school and coming home in the afternoon.

It cast its head down to preen its plumage. It was an interesting creature; I could understand pokémon perfectly, but it never spoke any real words. Were we some source of entertainment for it? My pondering brain settled on the fact that I may never know.

Scorch followed my stare and growled. "What does that thing want?" Scorch asked, stamping his paws. He was raring to get something at the bakery.

I got to my feet and motioned him with my arms. "Go ask."

He sighed and sprinted for the treeline. My ears trained as Scorch's words were met with meaningless screeching. The canine turned to look at me. "Says you look funny, now let's go," he called. I gave him a dumb look and started down the sidewalk, quickly hearing his footfalls come into step with me.

One of the entrances to the forest was just at the end of the road, only a brief walk to get there; the quickest way to town was through here. The trail appeared mainly grassy but had a thin strip of salmon-colored gravel through the center. The town didn't seem to keep it past mowing the grass, though, as it transitioned to trampled dirt further in from however many years of foot traffic. We passed the wooden sign staked at its entrance; the words "Burrous Forest Conservancy" were meticulously carved into it. The town was only interested in keeping fronts, but being on the outskirts of the largest city around, I didn't fault them.

The welcoming smells and sounds of nature greeted us as we walked on. The rich, earthy aroma was enticing. The choir of two bird pokémon emanated from somewhere as they sang out to whoever may be listening, and the native plants were filling in nicely for summer; the breathtaking colors and imagery they created belonged immortalized in a painting.

Scorch parked himself in a patch of sunlight streaming through the canopy before flopping over, wriggling around on his back, trying furiously to get at an itch.

"You know, there's someone around here who can help with an itch," I hinted, arm outstretched.

"Not an itch," he responded but didn't stop moving.

Thoroughly perplexed, my lips pulled taught, and my brow furrowed. "Then what are you doing, exactly?" I asked.

"I dunno, whatever my body wants," he said. He now lay on his stomach, pawing at the abused dirt path. My face must've portrayed my dissatisfaction with his answer because he dug deeper. "It's like… when I feel the sun, there's just this compulsion; quiet, but impossible to ignore. It's hard to convey," he explained. For some reason, my mind conjured the thought of a car turning over, giving me an idea.

"Maybe with words," I replied, pointing into the woods. "Show me."

He asked no questions. Lightning might as well have struck as he bolted off the trail and into the blooming flowers and fern fronds. Soon, he was far enough and out of sight but still trackable from the rustling of grass and crunching of leaf litter as he scampered about.

I scanned the area to ensure Scorch's frolicking didn't arouse anything, but there was no other pokémon to be spoken of, as expected. After all, I could count the number of times I've seen one that wasn't a bird on my fingers over the four years we lived here.

The scurrying became louder; I turned in time to see an excited Growlithe approaching at blazing speeds.

"Ouf," I wheezed as I was bulldozed into a bed of ferns, which cushioned the fall surprisingly well despite forty pounds of pokémon landing on my chest.

Scorch followed by assaulting me with a flurry of licks to the face, his tongue warm and coating me in a thick layer of slobber. "Eugh," I complained, turning my head and trying to push him away. "Okay, okay! Arceus, that's gross!"

Not soon enough, Scorch clambered off to make more laps around. My face was slimy and utterly disgusting. I took the sleeve of my long-sleeved tee and dragged it from my forehead to my chin, coming away warm and stringing with saliva. "Gross," I muttered, trying vainly to shake it out. A change of clothes would be in order when we got back home.

Further down the path, I was drawn to the soft sound of running water, walking until my feet stood on the small wood plank bridge. Below was the stream that snaked its way through the forest, ushering the water gently to its final destination: Lake Selphet. I took a seat on the wood construct, just enjoying the peaceful sounds the stream added to the landscape as Scorch was still spending his energy somewhere. I let myself be hypnotized by the distorted reflection of myself on the water's surface as I waited on Scorch.

It took another five minutes for him to run his course. He seemed to be enjoying himself, looking tired now as he panted. I gave him a pat on his head, which he lifted to receive gratefully. "Ready to get going? I can't remember their hours, so we'd better hurry."

Scorch said nothing, hopping in place excitedly before dashing down the well-trodden path.

It was best to get a move on, so I took off in a sprint after him, going as fast as my legs would carry me. Time ceased to exist; the feeling of the brisk air destroyed all thought as I tried to keep pace. I counted the ash and the aspen trees as they flew by. Everything seemed whimsical, magical even. The world was nothing but a passing afterthought as I chased after my best friend.

Sadly, the dirt petered out and was again replaced by coarse gravel and then the blacktop of the street, ending the trance. Scorch sat next to the curb, panting deeply. The sun was now completely obscured by the buildings in the heart of town, adding a shining outline to all the shingled and bricked roofs.

"C'mon, not that far, now," I said over my huffing. My sides felt like they were being chiseled away, but we kept going.

Across the street and down the ornately patterned sidewalk a couple of blocks and we were at a small bakery, locally owned and operated by the grandparents of a childhood friend of mine. As we approached, a small figure inside flipped the sign on the door; big red letters spelling 'Closed' now facing the window.

"Aw, man…" I moaned and knelt on the pavement, clutching my side where a massive cramp had formed.

The bakery was closed on weekends, so we'd have to go to the supermarket on the other side of town. It would be dark if we went now; I resigned to going first thing tomorrow.

I was about to lead us back home, but was surprised by the sound of bells chiming. "You'd think our produce was the key to catching Arceus; you're wheezing like a rubber duck!"

The voice was immediately recognized; I looked up and saw my friend Sonia standing in the doorway, wearing a soiled white apron. She offered me a hand to help me up. "...But then again, you are you." She added.

I extended my hand to accept hers. Once on my feet, I was reminded of our height difference; she was relatively short and stout, only reaching my chest in height, but it did me well not to point it out.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I challenged.

"It means welcome to Slow Rise Bakery," she said and stood aside, holding the door open; Scorch ran in like he was going to trash the place.

Ignoring the insulted feeling, I hobbled through the door. The wonderful aroma of freshly baked bread dominated the space. Half the shop was dedicated to their various kinds of bread, while confections took up the rest of the room. Cookies, pies, donuts, poffins, and a few cakes were displayed on tables and shelves.

Scorch seemed intended to keep me honest. I didn't miss him rummaging through the confection cases.

"So, I thought you only worked here during the summer?" I inquired as we walked in the direction of the bread shelves.

Sonia nodded. "Yeah, that's how it went, but my grandparents said if I helped out more, they'd handle my college tuition," she said with a hint of excitement.

My eyes went wide. "Lucky you!" I exclaimed with excitement of my own. "This place must be pretty successful if they'll do that for you."

She playfully slugged me in the arm. "C'mon now, that speaks for itself when each batch is made with love, can't do that with machines and conveyors."

"Kind of bold, don't you think?" I asked as we approached the shelving on the wall.

Sonia shook her head. "No, I don't think so. If we were destined to fail, then it would've happened when big business came in from Brixton… My grandpa likes to say they're in competition with us," she stated. She spoke as though her pride resided in the walls of this shop. It occurred to me that even though she may not have poured the foundation, this place was a big part of her life, and she cared deeply about the people that did.

"I suppose so," I said, humoring her as my eyes ran over the merchandise. The displays were mostly empty since it was closing time, but there was still plenty of fresh stock to choose from. Wheat, rye, sourdough, even a baguette poked out of a pristine straw-weave basket. "So, where's the big guy?" I asked, referring to the Charmeleon belonging to her grandparents. Trained under their wing, he baked the bread quite skillfully.

"In his ball, he'd worked hard today," Sonia replied.

I bent down close to her ear and dropped to a mutter. "You know, if you could use more help with the baking, I know someone who could use less free time."

She giggled and looked to Scorch, indecisively looking over the poffin rack. "I don't think we want to edge that line," she whispered back.

I finally opted to grab the two remaining loaves of white bread and one loaf of wheat. Their wheat bread made the best grilled cheese in my opinion, but the fluffiness of the white bread made it my family's favorite.

"Was just getting ready to put all these in the freezer; they'll keep for a while longer. That baguette will have to go, though," Sonia thought aloud.

I looked into her soft brown eyes. "You mean you were closing, but you're still working?" I asked her.

She returned my gaze with a dumb look. "Yeah, the perishables need to be preserved, the floor needs to be swept, the back room's always a floury mess…" She sighed. "My grandparents aren't giving me a gift; they're giving me a job."

I grunted noncommittally. "Sorry, I don't have any experience being a baker."

"You don't have any experience doing much of anything," she giggled. "Why don't you work here with me? You get to keep some of the old stock~."

Though that was a nice perk, it wasn't meant to be. "I don't think this would be for me, making bread and pastries as a job," I admitted, looking down at the neat tiled flooring. "I'm not one hundred percent on what I want to do, but the closest I've gotten is probably following my dad."

Sonia beamed. "Yeah! It totally suits you; you're kind, full of empathy and passion, and sealed with a big heart. You already have everything a good enforcer needs," she said gleefully. Her hand found her hip as she eyed me over. "Seeing as you're always running all over the place, I'd bet you've got some muscles going on, too."

Something in the way her tone delivered that statement made my cheeks warm. "Oh, uh… th-thanks, I-I guess," I stuttered like a moron.

She helped me carry my few items to the counter to be rung up. I hadn't thought about it too hard, but she was right. My legs were easily the leanest muscles, tempered by a life of keeping up with an excitable fire canine. The other parts of me weren't necessarily eye candy, but they were nothing to scoff at after some semi-regular exercise routines. My brain was smattered with warm and fuzzy thoughts, stuck in the flustered static that her words brought. I rarely got compliments, and never were they about my body.

I became conscious that my eyes were staring directly into hers on the other side of the counter; she knew I wanted to say something, wordlessly encouraging me to say it.

"You always make me feel special, Sonia."

She nodded. "You are special. You're one-of-a-kind in a town full of old busybodies; this place needs more like you if you ask me."

"If there were more people like me, that wouldn't make me special," I said, unable to resist giving her some grief.

Sonia was about to retort before a loud clattering broke the exchange. We both turned to see Scorch returning our gazes, a busted plastic container and three spicy poffins scattered around him. Judging the situation, he'd tried to get the container down himself.

"You seriously couldn't have asked for help?" I asked, mildly irritated that he'd made a mess.

He growled in agitation. "Well, if you weren't so tied up with your girlfriend, you could've heard me calling for you."

We shared heated stares before I turned back to Sonia. "He says he's very sorry," I stated, feeling the hair on the side of my head singing from Scorch's gaze.

"It's okay; I've yet to sweep up, so no harm done," She said merrily. "You can take another batch of those poffins if you'd like; those are probably soiled now."

My head shook, turning her down. "I'm not feeling the spice today, and Scorch would eat them if you tossed them in the dumpster," I said, noting the lack of response from my companion.

She shrugged before reaching under the counter, producing a plastic resealable bag. I accepted it and packed Scorch's poffins inside.

"Weekend plans?" she asked when I returned to the counter.

I gave her a look that said do you even have to ask? "The weekend is supposed to be beautiful too, so we're going to make the most of it," I stated.

Sonia adopted a chiding stature that reminded me of my mom's when Scorch and I had done something. "Surely you mean after studying for the finals?"

A sigh escaped me. "Yeah, I do; I promised myself I'd get some done tonight."

"Good," Sonia chirped. "I won't keep you then; total's eleven seventeen."

Nodding, I dug around for my wallet, only to come up empty; the cogs in my head turned.

"You forgot money, didn't you?" Scorch asked, seething; guess he was really feeling those poffins.

My hand found my head hard enough to hear a harsh smack. "Dang."

"Don't worry about it," Sonia offered. "You're bound to forget some things going as fast as you do," she said, though I wasn't sure how to take it. "Sales aren't allowed after hours, but I won't let you leave without them. Scorch looks like he'll tear you apart if you don't, anyway. You can pay at school next week."

I nodded again before taking our items and turning to leave, really hoping she couldn't gauge my embarrassment.

The bells rang again as the door opened to our exit. I waved Sonia farewell as we stepped into the night air.

"Man, how long were we in there?" I asked myself. It was late enough that the shine of the streetlights fended off the darkness.

"Long enough," Scorch barked. "Gimme one of those poffins."

I took one out of the bag and offered it, though I made sure he had to jump for it.

While that happened, a plain white van parked under a streetlight outside the forest came to my attention. Why would someone be here at this time of night?

"Looks like we're taking the long way," I told Scorch and began walking down the sidewalk. Whatever the reason, there was no way we were cutting through there now.

"I'm home!" I heard my dad Henry call from the foyer; his voice rumbled deep through the whole house, leaving no question about his authority. It served him well in his career choice.

"Hey, Dad!" I holler in response; a glance at the digital clock said it was just after nine at night.

I was on my laptop, a final paper on the screen, while Scorch slumbered soundly in my lap. The fire-type radiated enough warmth to make me uncomfortable and heavy enough to restrict blood flow to my legs, but as cute as he was, I let him be.

Heavy footsteps stopped behind me; I swiveled around to see Henry leaning on the doorframe. He opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was got caught in his throat when he looked down at Scorch. "Aww, now that's something. Good to see the little guy can do more than torment you."

Or so you say, I knew he was thinking. The way my parents referenced and acted around Scorch rubbed me the wrong way, like they weren't correctly addressing him as a member of the family, but I let it pass; they didn't understand.

The chair squeaked in complaint as I shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well, if he doesn't wake up soon, we'll need to amputate," I said. At that point, the muscles in my legs began to stop responding, and I couldn't extend them to their full length.

Henry giggled. "If you're beat, you could sleep anywhere," he said. "What would he say if he were awake to hear you calling him fat?"

"Watching over you is a job I can't clock out of." I mustered in my best mock Scorch voice. "All he does is sit his ass wherever and sleep when we're not here; he should be fat."

"He's a pokémon; they work differently. Your mom definitely knows a lot more about that than I do, though." Henry shrugged. 'Hey, speaking of, she home yet?"

I shook my head. "No, you beat her home today." Henry pumped his fist into the air.

A scoff left me. "I don't know why you still care about that; I'm not ten anymore. If anything, I watch over him now." I said and gave Scorch a pat on his side.

He shrugged again. "Keeps me young at heart."

"Anyway, anything exciting happen today? Did you get to bring anyone in?" I asked.

"Actually, yes," he said confidently. "I had to help escort people from a massive trafficking operation. There must've been over thirty of them dealing with stolen and wild pokémon alike."

My interest was piqued. "How long do you think that's been going on?"

"Must've been a good while," Henry speculated. "And with how bad their OpSec was, it's kind of embarrassing we hadn't caught onto them sooner. Many of them were about your age, just starting their lives; it's a shame."

He shook his head before seeming to recall something. "They also say that one ghost group was somewhere in Ferta again. If you have to go out, please be careful, bud." I nodded in acknowledgment.

He gave the doorframe a good smack. "Alright, I'm hittin' the shower and retiring early; not many days like this one to take this much out of me."

With that, he turned and walked from the doorway; the thudding from his boots hitting the floor could be heard as he walked down the hall to the master bedroom.

Now that he was gone, I became aware of the pain my legs were in. "Alright, Scorch, everyone has their limits," I grunted as I hoisted him up. The lack of sensation in my legs, kneecaps, and feet made it difficult to keep from tumbling.

Scorch roused from the unsteady transportation. "What gives? I was having a good dream."

"Yeah?" I huffed over his weight. "Well, I didn't feel like losing my legs over it."

I placed him down roughly on the bed, nearly falling on it myself.

"Why are you on my lap anyway? You're so large, half of you dangles off."

"I dunno," Scorch mumbled, tucking his head between his forepaws.

I stood waiting for more of an answer, but it never came. I shook my head and returned to my laptop, trying to ignore the sensation of pins and needles. My final paper for history class stared back at me; "The Nation of Heir and the History of the Four Provinces." Cheesy, but everyone knew how much the teachers ate that stuff up.

The paper was already three pages long, having completed the section on my home province of Ferta. However, the finished assignment was a distant thought with the Criag, Idian, and Seren provinces left to go.

"Alright, let's get to work," I said as I cracked open my textbook.

Chapter Twelve, The Tundras of Seren.

I scanned the page, mostly intrigued by the picture of the land covered by a thick white layer of snow. My eyelids began to feel heavy, but there would be no sleep until I made satisfactory progress.

My mouth parted in a yawn. It was going to be a long night.