I would not be beaten so easy.

I refused to lose.

A worthy opponent I was, one that most certainly warranted an esteemed respect! Alas, the battle was one harrowed with much adversity and strife in it's wake, the foe I was facing was one that had certainly earned the title of rival.

And yet, how could I have been triumphed so quickly?

My body betrayed my valiant effort as I succumbed to the bitter defeat, closing my eyes in anguish. Hark, a brave hero hath fallen on the dark day. Perhaps in the afterlife I would find sanctity in my loss?

A bright light began to whisper sweet nothings to my defeated soul, the alluring offer of heaven's gates extending their silky wings to my frail being.

How frivolous a life I lead, one of agony and regret. And now I could finally find peace, a savior among the clouds to watch over those whom mourn my unfortunate passing.

"Goodbye, O cruelty and belligerence; may our parting be the las-"

Boop.

...

Sigh.

My nose began to twitch from the fuzzy paw prodding it. Irritated my 'esteemed enemy' had tarnished my mock-death, my finger thumped against her ear. "Excuse me... you do understand it's considered poor manners to disturb a corpse, right? Is it so much to ask for from an honorable rival?" I playfully chided. The performance was awarded with an amused snort.

Boredom had taken a firm grasp of my brain during the monotonous week, creating an unruly urge to quell said boredom in some manner. Usually, Fenway would provide such a solution. She had grown to be a worthy staring contest participant during the time I spent recuperating, and had bested me every time we played.

Each time I would put a new spin on my ending as well; sometimes I would pretend to be filled with rage, other times I would act hurt, and once I even pretended to be a pirate. Even though she couldn't fully comprehend what I said half of the time, the little pokemon always loved the attention. Of course, this was a more childish means of activity, but the desire for mental stimulation had become too great. The luster of reading every magazine in the center lost its luster after the tenth round.

My new 'partner' had adamantly dedicated herself to staying at my side throughout the recovery, leaving only to use the restroom or forced out (which typically resulted in the irritation of many unfortunate nurses). Most days I was confined to my bed, often against my will. If I had the chance, I would spring off the cushions and rush out the center. The topic was at center stage of countless daydreams.

The encroaching homesickness didn't make my stay any easier. At the very least, the Nurse Joys were exquisitely kind to me; although, I was never sure if it was because they were required to be so kindhearted or it was in their very nature. At times I could've sworn the word "zombie" had been thrown around amidst conversations. I tried my best to return the positive sentiment, although at times a depressed slump would preside over me.

As Fenway and I broke off from our game, she paraded around by sticking her nose in the air. The vixen seemed to be beaming with pride despite playing the game many times already. One of the nurses slipped into the room in the meantime, eyes glued to her clipboard in her arms. After typing a few sentences into the screen adjacent of the door, she waltzed beside my bed with a pleased grin.

"Mr. Benac, it is with great pride that I have the pleasure to inform you as of today, you are to be officially discharged from the Pokemon Center and will be allowed to travel about once more." Nurse Joy beamed. "Your possessions will be returned momentarily. Once you've finished preparing, please exit through the main lobby."

Fenway beamed up at me, excitement bristling through her fur. I, on the other hand, was notably perplexed.

"I'm- not sure I heard you correctly. You mentioned personal possessions - and please correct me if I'm wrong - but I don't believe that's possible." I stated, baring my bewilderment on my sleeve. Nurse Joy giggled and shook her head.

"I would have to politely disagree. Why, just this morning the center received a package designated to you specifically."

An inquisitive frown draped over my face.

That couldn't possibly be right. No one knew I existed aside from Looker and the staff of the Pokemon Center, much less where I was.

'Does the center distribute uniforms or parting gifts to patients?'

In the midst of my pondering, Nurse Joy slipped away to fetch the delivery, returning a handful of minutes later with a medium-sized cardboard box in hand. The package was wrapped on each side with two wide threads of string, tied into a neat bow atop the cardboard. Imprinted into the walls underneath the string were a pair of partially-faded golden half circles covering a single golden circle wedged between. My mind flashed back to when I had first met Looker as he presented his ID, a strikingly similar symbol draped under his identification card.

A minute, satisfied grin rested on my mouth. 'Perhaps my words flew true in time.'

Nurse Joy gently placed the box on the sheets close to my lap, retreating to the doorway.

I began to pick at the bow and strings while simultaneously testing the skin of my healed hand. Surprisingly, the web of scars held strong against the tension. The grainy texture of the string was halfway lost on the repaired flesh, but rather the rubbery smoothness of the fresh skin flooded the sense. The fresh feeling would... take some time to accustom myself to.

Once I had finished fiddling around and removed the make-shift ribbons off the box, I placed one finger between the thin pieces of tape holding the opening flaps together. The adhesive gave way, splitting in two, allowing for the flaps to flop down freely. With a blank expression, I pried open the cardboard, Fenway and I observing the contents.

Upon first inspection of the peculiar package, my expectations weren't exalted for the gift. It was just a cardboard box after all. Yes, receiving an gift abruptly caught me off guard, but I never expected a pile of folded, pristine clothes and card lying on mounds of fabric.

For reference, the box was the size of a small suitcase, and it was presumably a quarter full of clothes. Saying I was taken aback would be a grave understatement to be sure. I was beginning to piece the situation together with each passing moment; an overjoyed, toothy smile stuck to my face as I took out the card for further detail.

The letter itself was no larger than an index card, a clean cursive ink print reading "Benac" on the front. A red wax insignia had kept itself stuck firmly to the back of the paper, silently slipping off at the force of my finger. I had already developed a general idea as to what topic the letter were to address, crossing my fingers in hopes my previous plan had succeeded.

As I swiftly withdrew the written message, my eyes meticulously scanned over every word.

"Dear Mr. Benac,

It is I, Agent Looker. I do hope your recovery has progressed smoothly. It has been a decent amount of time since our last meeting, no? On this topic, I would like to formally apologize on behalf of the International Police Agency in regards to my abrupt actions. It was highly unprofessional error, and I would like to take full responsibility for any inconveniences or problems that may have resulted during this incident. In reparation to your association and compliance, I have arranged a temporary housing arrangement within the Looker Bureau in Lumiose City, my personal office building. (Continued on Back)"

...temporary housing arrangement within the Looker Bureau…

...housing arrangement.

I did it.

I had truly... done it.

I could hardly believe what I'd read. I needed to squint due to the font size, but the obnoxiously tiny text was the least of my cares.

Yes, the subject at the top of my mind was the saving grace at my fingers. The especially designated letter- the message directly from Agent Looker of the esteemed interpol, renowned for his tenacity and bravery.

And yet, I had managed to construct a window of opportunity for myself, albeit a temporary one. Me, a man hardly in his twenties with nothing but my wits and... well; only his wits, had officially ascertained a roof over his head in a foreign world.

Too put matters simply, I was elated.

"YES!"

If anything, a bit too elated.

All at once, my body collapsed down onto the hospital bed like a grand drawbridge and hands rose to my forehead, the luster of my achievement taking the reigns.

"To think, I'd survive being lit on fire and still keep going strong..." I guffawed. Unfortunately, I had made the mistake of paying little mind to the area of which my celebratory relief covered, as my partner was no longer on the bed. My capacious grin hammered into a straight line as confusion sprouted. My head swiveled around to locate my fuzzy companion, but to no avail. My puzzled search came to end when Fenway slowly rose back up over the plastic rims of the mattress, looking noticeably irate and particularly queasy.

Although jostled, the tiny fox pokemon seemed unharmed. Part of me felt a twinge of embarrassment, but the negative emotions were swiftly overpowered by the wave of glee.

After calming myself down enough to think clearly, I turned the card back over and read the rest of the message. 'Now that it's come to my attention... why would the man write so many instructions on this one, tiny paper?'

"If this note is being viewed by the intended audience, then I can safely assume the package has fortunately met its desired mark. Inside, I have left various resources you should need to make the trip up to the northwest neighboring town, Lumiose City. There, we will rendezvous upon your arrival. Until then, I wish you safe travels, my friend.

-Looker.

Note to self: Request larger letter sizes from Jean."

"That explains the card…" I said, softly snickering at the addendum. By now, Fenway had finally climbed back over the railing and perched herself beside my right arm, choosing this time to smack me in the cheek with her paw. I returned the gesture with another ear thump. From the aggravated snort in response, I guessed she was beginning to regret her taste in trainers.

Turning away from the fuming fennec, I set down the card on the nightstand and withdrew the first layer of clothing to behold. Before me was a clean, white button-down dress shirt, not a single wrinkle in sight. Three large black letters were stitched into the right arm sleeve directly below the shoulder, spelling out the acronym "IPA". However, the shirt seemed a bit… small at first glance. 'He must've had to eye-ball the sizes. Points for effort though.' Fenway did a curious sniff, intrigued by the hints of musky cologne.

Next to be fished out were a pair of dark brown corduroy pants and black leather belt, a metallic belt buckle adorning the front. Luckily, they looked to be a better fit than the shirt, and oh... pleasantly soft as well! 'Bless you, Looker. Bless you.'

As I eagerly placed my hand back into the box, my fingers wrapped around an odd form. At first I dismissed it as my scars impeding my senses. The object was spherical and about the size of a baseball; five bumps spaced equally around the top half and sliced through the middle horizontally with a thin divot across the entire ball.

...

'Wait one bloody minute.'

Retrieving the item, my jaw physically dropped when I found myself staring into the metallic sheen of a specialized pokeball. A tried-and-true, real pokeball directly in front of my own eyes. I could feel Nurse Joy's unease at my odd behaviors, but I could care less. I had a pokeball, but not simply any pokeball.

This one was mine.

With the miraculous device in my hands, I was able to achieve something no other human could from my home.

I was able to catch a pokemon.

By God, Arceus, Jirachi- whoever I should've praise-

It. Felt.

Wonderful.

Cupping the device in my hands, the fennekin beside me held an oblivious smile as if she were a parent observing their child enjoy a video game they knew nothing of. I couldn't restrain the boundless, deep-sated curiosity that sprouted as I held out the ball to her.

"This is your choice, after all." I told her. "Don't mistake this as me forcing any options though; you can always chose to turn back. I've never taken care of an animal before and don't have the slightest inkling of how to be a trainer, so I recommend you think this decision through long and well."

I rolled my tongue over in my mouth, trying to find the words.

"I don't mean this in a self-deprecating sense. Just- Hm. I can always learn how to get in contact with a Pokemon Professo-" I offered, Fenway cutting me off with a nip on the finger.

I sighed and ran a hand through my coarse hair. "Very well. I'll cut the dramatics. Go ahead and- well, get in the blasted contraption."

Fenway puffed through her nostrils and shifted her focus between me and the ball, then Nurse Joy who had wordlessly observed everything unfold with a caring (and likely forced) smile. The fox followed up by turning back and beamed towards me with gratitude. One small tap of the ball's button was all she needed for the lid to pop open from the capsule, a thick red streak of light enveloping her tiny form. Just as quickly as the beam had sprang from the device it zipped back, clamping shut with a hasty 'Chink!'

The ball began to wobble in my hand back and forth, the white button on the front rhythmically shining red.

Wooom…

Wooom…

Wooom…

Wooom…

Wooom…

Click!

A thin sparkle of white light fizzled out the sides of the pokeball. Now, within the confines of the mysterious device, was my new pokemon. The thought of calling Fenway 'my' pokemon in the first place felt discomforting though, even after spending a week with her.

How long would it take me to accustom myself to things people deemed normal? Based on how I had become infamous among the staff of the Pokemon Center as a nutcase, it may take some time.

Suddenly, the pokeball shot open, the capsule springing to life as the same red beam zipped back onto the bed. Materialized upon the white sheets sat Fenway, her joyful glow as radiant as ever. Not a hair on her looked out of place, as if she had never even entered the capturing mechanism at all.

"Fe-e-en!" The fox pokemon announced, brimming with pride and began to hop about with glee. Her previously timid nature had almost completely dissipated, making me wonder if this was the same pokemon from all those weeks ago. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought Fenway was waiting for a trainer she deemed worthy ever since I'd saved her.

'I haven't even done much for her, and yet she's practically pleading to travel with me. I haven't the foggiest to what I've done to warrant this level of unearthly faith, but I'm not one to complain of a sudden shift in luck. Perhaps this trait is common among "starter" pokemon within the world to be more friendly with humans?'

"Congratulations on catching Fennekin, Mr. Benac." Nurse Joy commended, clapping in approval. A constricted breath of relief I hadn't known I was holding escaped my lips as I slumped back down in the bed to stare at the plaster ceiling. "...Are you alright, young man?"

I gave a curt nod. "Yes, yes. I'm fine. Simply lost in thought at the moment."

"Of course. Take all the time you need! If I may ask though, what type of Pokeball is the one you are holding? I'm not sure I'm familiar with that specific type." The nurse pointed out. Taking a better look back at my new gadget, I realized what she was talking about.

Through my moment of awe, I had failed to realize how peculiar the ball's design was. The top of the device had a light grey coating, with five shallow humps on the outside of the top half. The middle-most hump was a stark orange, while the sets of two other adornments were red. Minor metallic scrapes and scratches spanned across the entire surface, each varying in depth and severity. The device had certainly seen it's fair share of use. Luckily, it was not too damaged to be deemed unsafe; if anything the battle markings just enhanced the allure of the ball.

"Erm… I can't say I've ever seen one like it either." I admitted. Fenway also shrugged when I turned to her, although it was closer to an itch than a shrug. I made a mental note to ask Looker before messing with it too much. If it still operated like a normal pokeball, however…

"Ah, nurse?"

"Is there something wrong?" She asked, straightening up.

"No, nothing is wrong, per se- only… I… don't know how to operate a pokeball." I sighed, seeing no alternative way to ask. The nurse sat in stunned silence before cocking her head to the side.

"Pardon me if this may sound rude, but did you not attend a trainer's school?"

I chewed the question over. On one hand, I could feign ignorance and act like I'd lived under a rock with no comprehension of common technology. That route may prove a bit more risky though if the nurse wasn't an absolute idiot.

On the other hand, I could be truthful.

...

Frankly, being truthful was a lot easier when I put it that way.

"Not once."

...

Nurse Joy's eyebrow twitched as we sat in silence.

...

Finally, the helper broke the silence with a heavy exhale.

"To reduce the pokeball, hold the button in for around four seconds. To return the ball's size to normal, repeat that same process. Now, if you could please robe yourself sir; I believe it is almost time for your discharge." She said, calmly shutting the door as she marched out the room.

I turned to Fenway. "If you could be a dear, will you please go to the other side of the bed? I need to... disrobe." I requested, spinning my finger to motion her away. My partner's head whipped around at her mention, recognition flashing in her features before bouncing off the right side of the bed.

Shuffling my way to the left guardrail and placing my box beside me, I heaved my lazy appendages over the rail into an awkward dangling position. A grunt escaped my lips as I hoisted myself onto my feet, once more out of that god-forsaken bed. Parts of me felt overjoyed as I stood, the feeling of freedom wafting over me.

As I slid on my new apparel, I came to discover an embarrassing revelation.

Ah.

I didn't have any underpants.

With the brown pants dragging lopsided on my hip and cheeks flushed, I pulled the box back over to me to check if I missed anything. As it would turn out, in my pokeball phenomena, I had missed a substantial amount of items. And by substantial amount, I mean an orange tie, tight brown leather suspenders with round metal coins dotting the straps, a weird device shaped like a flip phone, a pair of matching brown Oxfords, socks, and an enormous wad of thin blue cloth slips. Oh, and a pair of underwear underneath the suspender case. So in short, a hefty pile of items.

'I feel like a care package has fallen from heaven…' I thought, slipping the now slightly wrinkled corduroy pants off and scrambling to cloth myself a second time. Next came the buttons on the white dress shirt, getting my finger caught within the holes many times from the unfamiliar garments. As for the suspenders, they could only be described as "it took me a few too many tries to make them look right".

I didn't even dare attempt putting on a tie on my own. I doubted that Fenway would be of much help either.

Having a sense of fashion has never been my strong suite, anyway. Usually, I would either phone a friend or Google an outfit that may work out with the resources I had available if need be. Thanks to the efforts of my new "boss", my stunted clothing capabilities would be fixed, if only temporarily. My quaint party still had a lengthy trek to undertake to Lumiose City, the bustling metropolis of the Kalos region. One measly outfit wouldn't make a trip that would take numerous days; that much was certain.

I made another quick mental note of the upcoming task and slipped on my brand new footwear. It took a few minutes to acclimate to the fancier duds, but it was nothing a bit of waltzing around couldn't fix.

Once a few stretches and calisthenics were out of the way, I shifted my weight around a couple of times. The soles were somewhat stiff, showing their factory-new durability. I felt myself attached to the formal wear, growing to appreciate the fashion of them. The outfit as a whole wasn't very comfortable though, which didn't bode well in the back of my mind.

Secretly, I kept rewinding back to all the other media I'd seen wearing the shoe type before. Surprise spun on my face as I noticed my foot tapping occasionally, a small creative spark popping in my chest. My legs began to slide around, clacking against the floor lightly. I pivot on my heel and swung around, allowing myself to fall into a free-form dance. Even if I had never been in that manner of formal attire before, the idea of performing in the outfit excited me.

Snickering began to rise from the other side of the room as I sauntered about, the audience of one thoroughly entertained from my antics. I about-faced the bemused fennec, my own crooked smile ebbing out.

"You hush now. Let me have my fun." I dismissed.

Fenway snickered again, shaking herself off as she arose from her perch on the bed rails. With one mighty leap, she sprang from the rail towards my shoulder, gracefully sailing through the air.

Unfortunately, I wasn't ready for such a jump and the fox pokemon wasn't ready for the awkward landing either, as her scrambling body collided with my head. Stumbling around madly, I tried to keep myself from toppling over in my disoriented state. Fenway fell to the ground, a surprised whimper escaping her as her back struck the floorboards.

"We… are not doing that again." I murmured.

"Feeen…" came the pokemon's weak agreement.

'How in the world did Pikachu do this effortlessly in the anime?'

After dusting myself off and tucking my dress shirt back within my pants which had partially slipped out, I moseyed over to the other items I had acquired. The questionable flip phone and stack of blue slips were all that was left, as I had already placed the tie in my left shirt pocket. Fenway began to nudge my leg.

"Hm? Something the matter?" I quizzed. Fenway diverted her eyes, her timid nature returning once again as she motioned with her snout to my arm. I found myself continuously surprised with how open she was with me.

Wordlessly, I placed a hand underneath the fluffy pokemon's chest and wrapped my arm underneath her midsection, hoisting her up like a puppy. She began to protest with weak kicks, but quickly stopped once I readjusted my grip. I may not have been a veterinarian in my "previous" life, but I had at least dealt with animals of a similar body type once or twice. That being said, I was still no veterinarian, even less so for pokemon and knowing a 'body type' wouldn't do many favors.

"Now then. Is this better suited to your desires, Ms. Needy?" I cooed, the fennec herself springing out of my arms and scrambling up my shoulder. It wasn't the most comfortable spot for her to be since she weighed more than I'd anticipated, but I kept my complaints to myself. I prayed the new traveling arrangement didn't pamper her too much.

My eyes were drawn back to the odd flip phone. I wracked my brain to see if I could remember what the device was called but ended with a handful of blanks. As far as I knew, there was no signature device of the Kalos region similar to the Pokeetch, but you could never access one of those within the games, nor was one mentioned in the X & Y anime. My knowledge well had either rendered itself unreliable, or reality was beginning to warp further with my very presence.

An unnerving thought, to be sure.

Waving off the frightening theorems, I shoved the tech mystery into my pocket along with what I could only assume to be Pokedollars into my pocket and adjusted myself one last time.

'What I wouldn't give to have a recliner chair and mellow jazz serenading my ears about now.' I hummed to myself as I sauntered through the hallway. The interior of the halls were the same as when I had last stumbled through them, although now I was walking on my own accord and fully healed, minus the scar-web coating.

Occasionally, one or two intrigued nurses would sneak a look out of the corner of their vision from their various tasks to see who it was confidently marching down the hall, only to avert their gaze. Granted, I didn't mind a stare or two since I had never cared much about what others thought of me, but I wasn't used to this... kind of attention.

The atmosphere was heavy with tension, every step causing my heart rate to quicken. All I could think of was being free of the shackles that bound me to the center.

I'd be able to explore and find a solution. Find a way to go home. Maybe even make some friends, but that was more of an optional availability. All I wanted to do was go home; I had already gotten my fill of the pokemon universe, and the universe had seemed to already have it's fill of me.

At last, I had arrived at the sliding doors at the end of the notably extensive way. Making one last mental check and expelling a hearty breath of air, I stepped into the lobby.

The vast, open design of the immaculate room was around the size of a mall food court, and I had strut out the back underneath one of the upstairs walkways. When I had first made out the lobby I was in a hazy and groggy state, which hindered my ability to comprehend more... hm, complex details.

One of the main details I had failed to notice was just how gorgeous the furniture and upkeep of the building was. Chairs and tables were spotless, register areas free of any dust or mildew, and the waiting area around the spire of televisions still looked brand-new. To my right were a set of gray stairs, leading further into the higher and railed-off second floor of the building. And this all goes without mentioning that the paint on the walls and ceiling were still a pristine shine, no visible signs of wear or withering on any such luxury or architecture.

If anything, architects from my world would've been salivating at the modern yet inviting appeal of the design, the neat additions to the room and the functionality of it all. Oh, not to mention the window booths positioned on the far east-most wall behind the stairs, where I was being beckoned.

A row of four divided counters were built into the white walls, each walled off by a decently thick layer of glass. Each counter had a different receptionist working the booth rather than Nurse Joys, all dressed within the same attire; ocean blue sheath dresses with a cream button affixed around the collar for style and a matching blue wide brim felt fedora. A respectfully classy yet formal style that fits the region. Even a tasteless man could tell these ladies had at least a pinch of class.

Fortunately, one counter along the end of the row was open, as a kindred short-haired woman waved me down. Her thin, brown lips greeted me with a kind smile when I approached the booth.

"Good afternoon sir, how may I help you today?" greeted the woman.

I could feel my eyebrow twitch slightly at her odd question. 'You were the one to wave me over...'

"Yes, um… I am Norman Benac. I was told I was being discharged sometime today and I should see you for further questions?" I recalled. The receptionist - who I now realized was named 'Carey' from the nametag pinned on her lapel - swiveled around in her brown office chair, hastily plugging away at the keys of her computer, blinking a couple times at the displayed info before turning back.

"Erm, something wrong, ma'am?" I politely questioned. Carey immediately regained her composure and locked eyes with the same courteous beam.

"Oh no, not at all! Just an unexpected piece of info, is all. Nothing to raise concern over. Now then, if you can wait here for just a moment, I should be able to finish signing off on the remaining paperwork and send you on your way." She assured me. A nervous hand began to pick close to the burn marks on my face as a rather distressing question entered my mind.

"So… uh, how much is this little excursion going to cost me?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"For my stay. May I see the bill?"

The lady simply stared at me as though I was proclaiming to the world that I had transformed into a Magikarp. She then sent a passing glance back to her computer screen, subsequently returning her focus to me.

"I believe that you're confused. You see, here in Kalos, Pokemon Centers are free to use to the public and are supplied by the Inter-regional League Association. While this region's customs may be vastly different from Sinnoh, our Pokemon Centers do not require any monetary payment for our services except for select options." Surprise took hold of my mind, but I refused to show it.

"I... see, much obliged." I said, trying my best not to slump down in relief. I still needed a backpack or case for my gear that I would gather along my makeshift journey, and I had rather not blow most of my cash on paying off the enormous bill that had come from my stay. 'Now I know what it's like to have healthcare outside of the United States.'

"It is no difficulty. One moment please." She replied in a professional manner, resuming the rapid typing on the keyboard, occasionally asking me to sign a physical slip of paper or confirm various questions, typically along the lines of how well the Nurses treated me, possible reviews, and other less interesting requests. I, of course, complied, trying to split my attention between her and the easy-going patrons of the building.

Speaking of which, the Pokemon Center had a wide variety of clientele. Santalune City was one of the more quaint locations if my memory served me right, a beginning town on the sleepier side of Kalos. This notion was practically thrown out the window as I saw people of all ages mill about the space. Hikers, lasses, older folk, and even a man dressed akin to an ace trainer.

One young girl in a cute floral dress with bouncy brown pigtails was chasing around a black worm-like pokemon, carefree as could be as they bound across the space. I was beginning to take note of how different pokemon looked to their animated counterparts from my world, as details like fur patterns and scales on hides were now visible to the naked eye. It wasn't a quirk I had considered until I noticed the Scatterbug.

I didn't have much time to delve deeper into thought however, as Carey had finished the paperwork and was now readjusting herself in her chair. "Done. Good luck on your travels, and we hope to see you again!"

My response was a simple raised hand as I departed from the counter. Before I got too far from the counter however, I spun on my heel at an embarrassing revelation.

'I don't have any food for the trip, and have no clue where to procure supplies... wonderful.'

The receptionist was already back to work on her computer by the time I returned. No rest for the working, I guess.

"Excuse me. I'm leaving town soon, and- hrm, I was wondering where I could find a shop to supply myself?" I coughed, masking my bashfulness under a facade of haste.

Carey glanced up at me for a moment at my abrupt return, pushing back away from the screen to meet me. She took a moment to compose herself before responding. "Und...understood. The pokemart extension on the other side of the lobby should do you well if you are in need of food, and the Santalune Boutique had a shipment of products four days ago. They're right beside the center on the way out, so you can't miss it. Is there anything I can help with, sir?"

Choosing to ignore the stutter, I shook my head. "No, that will be all. Thank you again."

A hushed sigh of relief escaped behind me as I left the window a second time. The tired sap must've been overworked to death with the sheer volume of people pouring in.

Nonetheless, I pivoted back around in a beeline towards the pokemart corner. The orange stripes adorning the walls dissipated into blue-hued triangles as it neared the built in storefront. The interior was a stark contrast to that of the Pokemon Center, both decoration and color palette-wise. Instead of the natural and comforting look the Pokemon Center sported, the shop had ample shelves chocked full of various items from treats to first aid kits.

At the front of the store wrapped behind a thick light blue counter stood two men in matching white aprons adorned with blue pokeball logos. The duo were working diligently, chipping away at a line stacked parallel to the store's doorway. In all my years, I had never seen employees have such a jovial attitude towards their job, much less this level of customer service. On another note, my mind was only then beginning to register how positively massive this place was.

I didn't have long to ponder my thoughts though, as a sudden force came tumbling into my leg. It wasn't especially impactful to the point of knocking me over, but I was temporarily unbalanced. Curious of what the culprit of the collision was, I stared down at the source.

My eyes fell upon the same olive-skinned girl, this time flat on her bottom beside my right leg. Her high cheekbones and amber eyes displayed a startled demeanor as she stared blankly up at me. Then, our eyes met.

"Something I can do, young lady?" I asked. The young girl shook her head as she blinked herself back from her daze and stared down at the floor. Her plump cheeks began to glow red, the color spreading along her face.

She whimpered, still refusing to look back up at me. I sighed and squat down to her level.

The child whipped her head up at the sudden gesture, nerves showing through. Her face was but a feeble barrier hardly maintaining composure in pitifully constrained body tremors. Poor thing looked to be on the verge of tears.

I cocked my head to the side, Fenway imitating me as her fluffy ears brushed my neck. The child's attention lingered on the pokemon perched upon my shoulder before gluing back to my face.

Scatterbug began to crawl into view beside the young girl, shooting a quick glance at me before nestling itself fearfully in the human arms. At this point, a few spectators had begun to observe at the scene unfolding, but I paid them no mind.

"Are you alright?"

"Wh...what?"

"Did you hurt your leg, hun? Twist an ankle?" I asked in a low voice, motioning towards one of her green slippers.

The young girl quickly shook her head again. "No, no. I'm okay. I j-just tripped. I'm sorry."

"Ah. I'm glad. I should be the one apologizing; I should have noticed you coming towards me. Tell you what," I scrubbed my chin. "If we ever meet again, we can play tag together since I interrupted your game. Does that sound fair?" I offered, the corners of my mouth rising into a tranquil smile. The floral girl hesitated as she looked between Fenway and I, wiping away the moisture gathered around her eyes. She nodded silently, soothed ever so slightly.

"Mhm, that's more like it. It's a deal, then. So, what's the name of the fair maiden before me?" I questioned, holding out a hand.

The pokemon with her arms let out an unsure whine, the girl hesitantly taking my notably larger appendage. "My name is... Charlotte."

I began to scratch my scruffy chin, as if I were deep in thought. I released her tinier hand before rising to my full height.

"Charlotte, is it? Well, it is certainly my pleasure young lady. Hm, goodness me, where are my manners? My name is Norman." I introduced. Charlotte giggled at my theatrics. Fenway impishly pawed my ear in response.

"...And this here is the ever-bashful Fenway." I added, rolling my eyes. A tiny huff blew from my shoulder, a fluffy tail knocking me upside the head. 'That timidity is really shining through, hm?'

"Oh my- Charlotte! What have I told you about running off on your own in crowded areas!?" An irate voice rang out behind me. Charlotte's mood immediately soured, the Scatterbug in her arms bristling at the beckon. She looked me in the eyes again, a poorly hidden scowl on her face.

"That's mamma… my brother probably came back, so I need to go now. Bye bye mister and Fenway." She mumbled, scrambling off past me down one off into a clump of people with her bug pokemon in tow. I snickered, amused by the energetic child as she bounded down the hall. Nevertheless, my focus was recalibrated soon thereafter, setting my sights back on the mart.

"Mister… huh. I mean, it has a nice ring, but I don't look that old, do I... ?" I thought aloud. Fenway purred softly as an answer. I took it as a 'no'.

"Many thanks for the reassurance, bud." I remarked sarcastically. By now I was underneath the sky-blue arch of the pokemart, already running my eyes over the vast selections available. The first row bore an arrangement of pokemon-designated snacks and meals, categorized by type variants rather than species. Most were canned goods rather than boxed, with an occasional bagged product here or there.

The fuzzy pokemon on my shoulder was practically salivating as we passed by the assortments. I grabbed one of the sacks with brown, ovalish treats inside and inspected the ingredients list on the back.

'So it's a spice and vegetable-based food, huh? I think I can work with this.' I thought, looking back down at the price tag.

"ONE THOUSAND BUCKS!?" My eyes nearly popped out of my skull.

How in the world did people afford such malarkey? I didn't even have a stable income anymore!

As Fenway and I milled about the store, the prices didn't seem to lower from their outrageous heights. By god, three hundred and fifty dollars for a single bottle of Repel? I'd rather believe I had been turned into a Spoink than entertain the fantasy I would paid that much money for a can of glorified bug spray. Eventually I'd had enough and vacated the shop, scoffing as I left.

'That receptionist mentioned a boutique not too far from the center. Maybe I could go fetch a backpack or satchel for a decent price while I'm at it.' I recalled.

Now I stood a few feet behind the automatic glass doors leading out of the center. Beyond these doors was a world filled to the brim with mystical creatures and a completely new society, one I had yet to experience myself or live in. And I was moments away from walking on into it.

'Here goes nothing.'

Releasing a breath I didn't even know I had held, I marched out the drawn doors, taking in the unfiltered sun for the very first time in weeks. While the ball of plasma caused me to shield my eyes momentarily to readjust for the drastic lighting change, I was secretly overjoyed to be within its warmth once more.

Back in my world, I was the sort of person to prefer working outside and relaxing in hammocks instead of inside; likely because I simply liked the environment and found it comforting. I had no idea what truly spurred my odd inclination, but I chose to roll with it anyway. Who am I to question why I like what I do?

All sorts of noises flooded my ear drums as I took my first steps onto the cobblestone road; sounds of birds singing melodic harmonies to one another, the delighted cries of a Growlithe bounding after it's owner, and other various hubbub. A pleasing aroma of citrus and applewood met my nostrils. It was honestly refreshing to stand and take in the town for a bit. I couldn't help but smile at the serenity. The place felt like there wasn't a care in the world and everyone else in the city knew it.

I gingerly stepped along the stones, allowing my posture to slacken a bit. As I was taking in the rustic beauty, I noted just how open the city was. While certainly much larger than the game's portrayal, the town had only a few buildings along the front, numbering around eight in total before trailing back towards the unpaved entrance back into the Santalune Forest. I shuddered at the thought of returning through that accursed place after recovering from the first unsavory run-in.

Not a chance in hell I'd visit there any time soon.

Shaking the dreary thoughts away, I turned back to the older buildings before Fenway and I. Aside from the Pokemon Center, each structure had a European-based architectural build, resembling something straight out of the streets of northern Italy. Of course, I had already known that the Kalos region was developed with a clear inspiration from France and other European countries, but witnessing all the homes and shops in person? That was a separate story entirely.

Something I hadn't noticed about the city though were the towering castle-esque walls surrounding the town. Jet black oil street lamps hung from the thick walls along with hanging baskets of flower bouquets, expertly pruned down to the petal. Everything about the city basically screamed peaceful.

"Now this seems to be my sort of fancy." I noted, watching as an elderly woman carefully watered a pot of tulips alongside a Floette. "Warm atmosphere, sleepy citizens… Hm. This is very much worth the bumpy start."

Stretching out to let my body crack and groan all it wanted while remaining weary of my shoulder passenger, I wasted no time going over to the apparel shop adjacent to the Pokemon Center. Above the mahogany doorway adorned with a rosy wreath was a neatly painted white sign displaying the name of the store in a thin font reminiscent of cursive writing.

"Santalune City Boutique" it read. I repressed a snort at the affably uncreative title.

Stepping through the door, I was greeted with a gentle ring from the bell above me. Bright marble tiles lined the floor with beige walls being illuminated by spinning fans on the ceiling with lights shaped like a flower blossom. Rows of hats sat within glass-sealed shelves, on display for the public eye. Little furniture resided within the shop beside the mirror in the west corner of the shop and other smaller accessories perched on rotund oak tables. Standing by one of the counters was a fair-skinned woman in a red beret and blue coat.

"Welcome!" She greeted, clasping her hands. I offered a friendly wave in return before eyeballing more of the inventory. So far, my search for a suitable bag wasn't turning out well.

"Good morning. Does your store carry traveling bags or anything of the like?"

The lady shook her head with a sigh. "Unfortunately not. This branch of the boutique line specializes in hats exclusively, I'm sorry to say."

I blanched at the fact. "I'm- what? How is that-? I caught word that you had a set of products arrive not a couple days ago, so there must be something you have."

The boutique worker thought long and hard, then exited out a door through the back of the changing stall. She came back a moment later with a gray messenger satchel, a beautiful leather strap stretching around her shoulder keeping the bag aloft. A band of white looped around the top latch of the satchel. Even if there was no physical price tag, I could tell the canvas creation cost a pretty penny.

"We do have a few special Devon Corp. importations from Hoenn, made especially with size magnification technology. This particular line of bags would probably suit you best as it's the highest quality we have at the moment, especially since there aren't any other boutiques for miles. Unfortunately..." She trailed off. I only heard bits and pieces of what she was saying as my eyes were thoroughly glued to the satchel.

In all honestly, I didn't care about the other details.

"...sometimes we have mix ups in our shipment orders, which tend to mix up stock and require us to call back on the order. This vintage Jeep Bouffalant messenger bag is supposed to be hanging on a shelf within the Lumiose City Boutique. We're going to return them of course, but in all honesty I find it nice to have around, even if we must send them back..."

"How much is it?"

"...so I can't sell- huh?"

"What does that satchel usually go for?"

"You... you want to buy it!?"

I only shrugged at the stupefied woman. "Well, yes."

The clerk stared at me dumbfounded, then began to lightly chuckle. "My, you had me! I can't believe you had me going like that, thinking you were going to purchase a Jeep Bouffalant off the shelf! Goodness, you are quite the comedian…" She finished, laughter subsiding.

I raised an eyebrow and remained silent.

My expectant gaze remained stagnant as the silence gave the clerk pause. The well-dressed woman began to fidget nervously as we sat wordlessly, only the faint hum of the lights being audible.

As realization sank in, the woman's eyes grew, flabbergasted.

"You...you're serious!?"

I dug around in my pocket and pulled out the wad of bills nonchalantly. "My answer is still the same."

My hand began to twitch under the weight of the lady's stupefied expression. As I placed the bundle into the outstretched palm, the expression of astonishment only amplified, the clerk's jaw nearly hitting the floor. Judging by her reaction, the stack of Pokedollars was either worth a small fortune or my ignorance of this world's price ranges was beginning to show.

"Oh my Arceus th-they... they're all thousands…"

Ah, I had plenty.

"Ma'am? About the bag."

"Eh..? Oh, right… this should surely cover all of the costs, sir." She sputtered, composing herself. I thumbed through the stack and took out twenty of the bills, holding them out.

"I think this is it." I said neutrally. I guess I was lugging about just enough change thanks to Looker, but I didn't have much to spend it on other than the necessities. The lady fumbled with the slips when I handed them over, then fervently flipped through the stack. Suddenly, a new light of vigor beamed through the lady's eyes.

"Thank you so much sir! We hope to see you again!" she exclaimed, performing a perfect 90 degree bow and offering the bag like a medieval sword to a knight. I tilted my head away and scratched my neck, hesitantly retrieving the satchel.

"Sure. Um, anytime. Thank you."

It was going to be a long shopping day; both Fenway and I could feel it.


"So, that's one chocolat chaud, and a Fire-type risotto special for the little one? That comes out to 1,200." stated the cafe cashier with a courteous smile. I handed off the payment and retrieved the warm drink and filled plate from the laminate countertop. Fenway licked her chops in anticipation at the delectable meal.

"Watch the drool, the table's right here." I reminded. The little fox on my shoulder disregarded my comment while the alluring smell of diced peppers caressed her nostrils. An excited sound close to a purr rumbled to my left. I couldn't help but blow an amused sigh at her incensed reaction.

'I'm surprised she has such a voracious appetite. I ate a cup of Razz berry yogurt mixed with Pinap berry granola a few hours ago and let her have the rest after checking the bag to see if it was pokemon approved. I'm no cook, so I'll have to have pre-made meals or scrounge around through my savings to keep her well fed and healthy. Grooming may be a pain as well…'

Placing the beverage and meal onto the smooth wooden table, I slid a chair back for myself as Fenway leapt off my shoulder onto the opposite side of the food. Without a second of hesitation, my partner began to eagerly consume the platter. I placed my new messenger bag in front of me as I thumbed through a mental checklist.

'Food, check. Change of clothes? Have to wait on those due to all the boutiques here specialize in hats for some unknown reason. Poke-phone device, check. Pokemon who won't leave me alone, check. Thermos, check. Potions, check. And lastly,' I surveyed, withdrawing a singular hardback book. Each page within the blank journal had been already numbered ahead of time for ease of use, and today's date had been etched into the top sheet. 'A means to keep myself sane other than talk to a fox all day. Check.'

Slumped down in my chair, a lengthy sip of hot chocolate was drained from the cup. For the past few hours, I had been racking my brain for a proper cipher to use for the journal. On the off chance an unwelcome viewer were to rummage through my belongings and unearth the information I was not of this particular Earth, withholding the accessibility to the knowledge was vital. The problem was, I had no clue how to make a cipher.

Thankfully after mulling over the impede, I whittled down my options to two ideas:

Option one, I use an alternate language from my world and hope that it isn't spoken here.

Or two, I write and try to lace my words, to which the naked eye would find nothing of interest, but one that knew where to look would recover a different meaning.

I took another slurp from the cocoa. If I chose a language, which should I place my trust? I knew enough French to keep me afloat in my high school classes and visit the country without looking like an idiot, but to be fluent enough to document my feelings with it? Absolutely not.

Thinking back to when I had ordered our food, I rapidly realized the language option was pretty much out of the question anyway since the cashier - while most likely not fully aware he was speaking it - referred to my beverage as the French term. In any case, I was still not accustomed to the cultures of the world aside from the limited narratives I'd garnered in Kalos, meaning the circumstance that the language I could've chosen quite possibly have been spoken elsewhere. Even if it may have been more of a hassle to transcribe all which I documented into cooking recipes in my journal, the latter certainly beat waking up one day to hundreds of reporters cramming microphones down my throat asking if I'm an alien.

By technically I was, but that's detracting from the point at hand. I had at least already chosen what means of structure my chronicles were to be.

With another shot of cocoa and a satisfied grunt, I withdrew a fresh ball-point pen and began my first entry into my journal.

"Addendum 1: Child From Whence the Sun Stole

From within the deposit of stone in our illustrious night sky lay a boy, content and blissful within his sanctity. He had no other qualms of existence, his own life as tranquil as the dusty surface from which he dwell'd. All his life, he had seen the miniature explosions of stars from afar, safe and thankful from the confines of hospice. The boy required very little in ways of comradery other than his diminutive cluster of family and friends. Even the tiny, barren planet of lodging with deep scars burrowed in the rocky crust had their charms. It was imperfect, but it was his.

And it was enough.

Sometimes he would gaze at the ever-encompassing space that swirled around him. Other times he would stare with wonder in his eyes at the astounding gorgeous Earth, and all the creatures below. He could never traverse the distance however, for the shielding screen of space blocked any feeble attempts. Lo, he cared not. The screen he viewed gifted contentment for the boy.

It was enough.

T'was right, all true, all good. The harrowing habitat from whence he hailed was perfect for the boy. A null heaven!

But lo, Sun hated it.

The ever-raging ball of plasma despised the serene grace and quaint life the boy lavished, and longed for it. He longed for the glamorous fidelity that such a life had wrought the young lad, a life of magnificence. But, he could never acquire his desired covet, for he allowed the inner rapacity to be unleashed upon the world.

With arms ablaze in jealous fury, Sun grappled with the moon heavens for possession of the boy. The collision destroyed the serenity that had seeped within the boulders and dusty mountains, chaos splashing across the landscape with each grasp Sun took ahold of.

Mounds of charred stone shot out from the surface to escape the onslaught only to be incinerated in the surrounding rage. Leagues of lush livelihood were extinguished under the callous reign of the devil's hand, inanimate screams piercing the adjacent stars across weeping homes. Boards, walls, doors, beseeched groaning forming a unsung choir of them all.

Finally, Sun grabbed the boy as he fruitlessly attempted to evade an outraged onslaught, hunkered down to preserve the last of his crumbling home in his quivering arms. Of course, poor young man's endeavors at salvation were futile against the violent endeavors of the plasma, and the arms of hatred latched onto frail flesh. Skin sizzled like gunpowder and began to turn the flesh as red as Sun himself. He had gotten his prize, the source of his greed and lust of municipal junction. A well of fortune and wonder.

But it was not enough.

Sun felt no polarity. No deviation. His longing was not satiated in the slightest, only replaced by horror from the repercussions caused. Sun's face contorted to sorrow with a vast frown, beaming no longer for the hurt figure in his hold.

Why? Why had it not worked? From what source had he forsaken as to endure the hellish punishment? Was there no allocation to which he could concede?

No, Sun quenched this malice. No longer was he a maleficent of malcontent; he had not garnered his wish.

Renewed with a hand of remorse, the massive form placed the boy down onto Earth, a suitable replacement from which he may reside.

And for the sun, it was enough.

Soon, the boy awoke from his coma. Emotions swirled in his person at the strange, foreign environment with colors exploding into his view.

The boy felt fear. Fear clawed his intestines and tore him asunder as he wandered the vast landscape in solitude. His loved ones were now gone. The blue sky forbid observation of his dwelling, no longer a haven of love and calmness. A jungle around the perimeter had captured the boy, and refused to grant him sight from their thick trunks.

The boy had nothing. He had no heavens, no loved ones, no one.

A small organism fluttered in front of his face as tears welled. The being gazed deep into the boy.

"What ails you, boy?" asked the flying figure. The young man merely sniffled in response; he could hear the words exit the mouth, but the cochlea had not translated the message. They did not understand him.

The boy recognized the creature as an orange fairy, thin and delicate wings beating gracefully in mid-suspension. But he could not think about the fairy. He could only think about home.

The boy sprinted past the fairy and began to scream for Sun to come back and take him. He pleaded to the atmosphere to allow his return to the place he adored. But he knew it was in vain, for the sky refused to let the wails pass.

For what reason had such transgressions befallen him? Was Lady Luck always a cruel mistress, married to the malefactor Mister Misfortune? The boy felt sick to his stomach, a new feeling that he did not know how to convey. He longed desperately for an escape that would not come. A saving grace of mere fiction.

"Why have you forsaken hope? Surely you can find or make a solution to which you may obtain peace of mind." explained the fairy.

While he did not understand the words; the arrow struck head, message sent flew true. The boy raising his head with renewed vigor. He made an exclamation to the emptiness, knowing that he did have one last speck left inside of him. While he retained hope, he also carried a much more significant clause:

Return."

...

My eyes were glued to the last word.

Return.

It was only one word, yet it held so much… conviction.

Half of me scoffed at the dramatic take and the other half beheld it. The verbiage made my journey to this world seem like it was much more grand than reality had demonstrated. Now that I had weighed my options, perhaps I truly did have a reason to be in the Pokemon world. I just hadn't found what it was I was there for.

Honestly, I was merely caught up in the semantics. It's real life, after all. Purpose is a fool's word.

Fenway had finished up the last of her spicy meal, now gently licking up the remnants as I broke away from my notes. She was looking at me with one eye expectantly all the while clearing out any remaining morsels. I took a moment to collect my belongings once more and stood from my seat.

"Pack it up, we're moving out now. No need to keep Looker waiting longer than he has to." I stated, motioning for the fox to hop back on my shoulder by crouching down level to the table.

My vulpine comrade wasted no time perching herself once more on my right shoulder, messenger bag slung across the left. I had also discoverede the purpose of the metal coins on the suspenders, ironically when I was practicing tossing the pokeball into the air only for it to be stuck to my suspenders on the way down like Velcro. Currently, the specialized mechanism was resting on my right pectoral, a few inches away from the armpit.

By now, the sun had long since hit its highest point, slowly receding back down the horizon. Fortunately, it wouldn't be evening for a couple of hours, meaning Fenway and I had plenty of time to make a good head start on our ventures to Lumiose. I was silently hoping that my legs would quit their stiffness on my way down as well. Ever since I had exited the hospital bed, every appendage I had ached and groaned with any action I did. I felt more like a rusted tin man than a recovering human.

Pushing my lackadaisical body away from our snacking area and discarding the remnants, I strut down the stairs of East Santalune. A few people that had been milling around the streets had now funneled back into their homes, but the trip was still populated enough to be as lively as ever.

It honestly irked me at how carefree these people were. Hadn't a terrorist attack occurred just a handful of weeks ago?

'Have travesties from my world occurred here too? Even then, what year is it? I know that there was one NPC from Generation I who claimed he bought a color TV for some occasion I can't remember, but I doubt it's the 1960s anymore. This is Kalos too, with technology that is far superior to the kind demonstrated in Gen I. Speaking of which, do Gyms have a layout with insane tech to simulate all the game variant's environments, or are they-'

BONG!

That certainly wasn't a simulation.

It was a streetlamp.

A streetlamp I had walked directly into.

Ouch.

Fortunately, one of us was still unscathed and found the situation quite entertaining.

"Fe-e-e-e-eni-i-i-i!"

Fenway's chortling was quickly halted by a well-deserved ear flick, converting her amusement into light snickering instead. My forehead was also quite vocal by aching painfully with a wide new bruise. By the unsettling feel of the injury, it would be a few days before it would begin to wane. The message of getting my head out of the clouds began preaching a tad louder than before, along with the inevitable bruise aches on my forehead.

Ignoring the concoction of pitied and amused glances, I stood up from being knocked on my tush. Snaking around street blocks with ease, my companion and I bode our time exiting the marvelous town as to not miss any shops that may have eluded us amid the previous outings.

Within twenty minutes, we stood before the grand leaden gates, open and rising high above the gray brick walls. Another metallic sign marked "Route 4" was hung from the wall beside the gateway, bars of metal sliding delicately around the frame. For such a tranquil village, the place had exceptionally impressive architecture.

Beyond the exit was a similarly lush expanse of various trees, a wide dirt path sliding around a grassy hill sitting hundreds of meters away. Outside the burg, very few people could be found taking the trail; only a lone man crossing through the bramble into the lush greenery. I had no set qualms with this development, but I could tell journeys to and from cities would take much more than just a few hours by foot. Looks like yet another aspect of this world had sided with the anime.

Sighing and readjusting my pack, I moseyed through the gateway onto the arid dirt, dust coating the bottoms of my dress shoes. While the shoes weren't an optimal choice for long distance excursions like the one Fenway and I were about to go on, my thick socks provided just enough cushioning to reduce the scrubbing and discomfort so I wouldn't get blisters or sores. I couldn't tell whether Looker had planned for me to walk or take another means of transport, but I made another note in my journal to thank him for the choice of clothing nonetheless.

However, with the detective on my mind, I had unintentionally opened an all new can of worms.

'Looker... why is he in Lumiose this early? His main assignment had been to track down Xerosic and arrest the lard, but that only took place once the player had achieved the title of champion and thwarted the ultimate weapon, leading to the disbandment of Team Flare. But if Looker is already present ahead of time, then was there another ulterior motive in the show Looker that has slipped my mind? No, that's highly doubtful; although, there were too many unexplained variables for diligent consideration.'

I reclined against my chair, massaging my temples.

'To my knowledge, Team Flare's strategic understanding was nowhere near setting an enormous ecosystem ablaze just to send a message. If anything, it would not only counteract their ideals of creating a more unified world for pokemon, the action would be too much of a media cataclysm to deem viable with their means of operation.'

Whatever was causing these events to coalesce, it wasn't good in the slightest, and I needed to return home before I witnessed the full handiwork.

"Feeeeeen…"

A concerned simper cooed, followed by a friendly nip on my ear to break my trance once more. I blinked a few times and craned my neck towards Fenway, who had also tilted her fuzzy head to the side and was observing me intently.

I lambasted myself for slipping away mindlessly into another mumbling session and diverted my gaze. "Think nothing of it."

Fenway responded with a sound that resembled both a trill and yip, as if to say "alright" and followed up with extending her forelegs as far as she could without falling off.

We merry band of two had departed from Santalune City approximately an hour and a half ago, now deep into Route 4. We had yet to come across any tall grass or pokemon scampering along the clearing, which had made me quite uncomfortable to think about. Usually routes were prime spots to catch or meet pokemon, whether they jumped out at someone or you saw them drifting along with their own lives. And yet, we hadn't come across a single one.

A sudden idea squirmed through my brain. "Fenway, are you aware of the concept of 'moves'?"

"Fin?"

"Moves, you know? Such as Ember or Scratch." I defined, wiggling a finger in front of my mouth. "You spat a massive wall of fire at those Spearow a few weeks ago. Can you do it again?"

The fox pokemon shook her head glumly. "Kii."

"Is that so? Well, I can understand running out of PP or something, but it's been weeks by now. The only possibility would be if you somehow, just... broke the system. Or moves are utterly absurd."

"Fenne?"

I halted in my tracks and clasped my hands together. "I've made my decision. We're going to settle down here for the night and see what you've got in store."

Fenway nodded with a curt yip, plopping her rump down in the dirt.

Moving away from the clearing under the shade of the surrounding flora, I searched for a sturdy-looking tree for the tiny fox to rough up. I eventually found a thick oak, trunk as wide as a dresser, few branches within reach. I crouched down and pat the ground, Fenway taking the signal and vacating my shoulder. Once she had hopped down, I rolled my shoulder to loosen the aching joint. After walking around with a small animal attached to you, the constant weight begins to take its toll on the joints.

"So, erm, go ahead and demonstrate some of your moves on this fella. Go wild." I pat the tree and stood off to the side. "You've already shown yourself to have a few tricks, so don't let me get in the way."

Fenway stood still, looking between me and the tree. Suddenly, she rocketed forward, whipping her body sideways with her left foreleg leading as she sprang into the air. The pokemon's tiny claws began to extend, sharpening with a faint white haze. Within the next few seconds, my partner had sliced into the crude bark of the tree and bounced back off the truck before landing gracefully on a pile of pine straw. She turned back to me with a boastful pride.

I nodded and rubbed my chin. "There's Scratch. It's something, albeit on the more basic spectrum… what else?"

The vulpine shook herself off and shifted into a ready stance. Fenway reared back her head, showing her mouth to the sky and drew a massive breath. A soft heat began to build close to the pokemon, a dim light illuminating within her throat.

"Feeeeeeeeen!"

In the blink of an eye, Fenway spat out balls of fire each the size of an apple that sailed quickly through the air. The flaming projectiles burst against the trunk, erupting into smoldering embers and charring bits of already chipped wood, some stray sparks lighting thin grass blades on fire.

The move took nearly 15 seconds to perform; much longer than I had initially anticipated. An uncomfortable shudder passed down my spine as I witnessed the event take place, hastily composing myself enough to quickly stamp the remains out and turn back to my partner.

"Ember. It was much more powerful than I thought it would be at least…" I admitted, another scheme brewing. "Are you able to adjust the size or speed of the embers?"

Fenway narrowed her eyes but nodded anyway.

"With how you tilted your head back, you must still need time to let the balls build and form before sending them out. If you were to instead try and reduce the power of the attack - effectively reducing the charge time - could you shoot the embers at a quicker pace?"

I wasn't sure if she had understood any of my questions, but if she hadn't she acted like she had. After another brief moment of contemplation she readied herself once more, curling her lips into a determined snarl.

This time, Fenway dropped her head to her side while staring daggers into the tree. Another weak light flickered for just one second before being hurled at lightning speed towards the trunk. These projectiles were less round than their powerful counterparts, instead flying out in a stretched oval shape. Additionally, instead of a small burst of projectiles, this batch of embers spat out back to back like a shotgun, pelting the scarred wooden surface with miniature explosions.

A sickening feeling began to gurgle in my gut, but I shoved it down. "Try firing one at a time."

The bursts of pyre wavered from the consistent spews, eventually morphing into a wavering stream of tiny pebble sized flares. Embers shot out even quicker from Fenway's maw as she continued to spew fire, her legs wobbling at the amount of energy she exerted. However, just before the fennec ceased, my focus drifted towards the coalescence that had sat in the back of her throat.

I was positioned at an angle a few feet away from the tree that restricted me from seeing down Fenway's throat, but something about the way she spit fire had intrigued me. While I couldn't place my finger on what had caused the hunch, I could at least tell it wasn't like she was conjuring the barrage from a pit in her gut. If anything, it seemed like she was drawing the power from somewhere higher in her throat. Even then, her chest was lightly rising and falling as she continued. Hm.

"-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-neeeekin…" Fenway sputtered as the last of the embers crackled into nothingness. As she sat down to catch her breath, I extinguished any micro-fires that had tried to start and sat down beside her.

"Truthfully, I didn't expect for you to succeed on the first try." I explained, warranting a soft growl from the recovering pokemon. "What I'm trying to say is- you did well."

A curled lip quickly turned into a satisfied grin at the praise. I thumbed through my messenger bag while on my knees in one of the side pockets, withdrawing an oddly shaped bottle with a wide violet bump protruding from the top. I placed the ether in front of the winded fennekin while popping open the purple cap.

Fenway sniffed the bottle and turned to me.

"It'll replenish your energy. You'll feel right as rain." I offered, gently tilting the container to let a magenta liquid trickle over the plastic rim. Fenway recoiled at the taste of the medicine at first but prudently drank the substance as she wrapped her lips on the seal. Once half the bottle was drained, I secured the cap back in place and deposited the now lighter capsule of ether back into my bag.

With a hand on my knee, I hoisted myself back up and cleared away all the obliterated bark from the abused tree. "Let's keep going. Daylight's waning and we've been sitting in the center for too long to take any breaks."

The fuzzy pokemon uncurled her legs and dove into a deep stretch. One set of calisthenics and cleaning off the tree a second time and Fenway was raring to go again. I scratched the side of my head and waved an unsure finger at the battered trunk.

"Let's, uhm, go again. See if we can keep the stream going once more and workshop the versatility some." I instructed, the eager vixen barking out a strong agreement. I wasn't exactly certain in my teaching, but the previous success egged on my confidence.

Even though I was trying to help drill Fennekin, I never actually paid any attention to how training sessions worked in canon other than just watching the protagonist mercilessly obliterate any poor sap in their path.

In short, I didn't have an inkling of an idea how to train a pokemon.

As I watched my fuzzy acquaintance fire volley after volley of literal spitfire, I couldn't help but notice that the nauseous feeling in my stomach had slithered its way across my body. My legs were wobbling violently and my lungs felt like I was kissing a vacuum. I did my best to steady my rising heartbeat and relinquished the vice grip I didn't know I had on my wrist.

I stared down at my hand. 'Calm down already. What has me so worked up?'

Shaking out the irritating body sensations, I returned my focus to Fenway, of whom was beginning to pick up the pace. "Hop to the right, Now!"

My sudden outburst startled the fuzzball causing her to stop firing and let out a sound akin to a squeal.

"You'll be on your toes, or paws, or whatever it is you have to brawl. We won't let our opponents read our movements to get any kind of upperhand. That means I won't let you sit still at any point when battling unless a strategy calls for it. Constant movement is key, especially since we'll be facing pokemon who hit faster, harder, and better than us. But none of that means anything if we keep them guessing."

"Fennekin Fen Fen!"

"Alright, back to it. We'll work on reactions in an hour." I instructed, turning my back and waving for the fennekin to continue her exercise. Noises of wood being torched and flames crackling in the wind resonated behind me as I slumped against a much smaller birch trunk.

As I relaxed against the tough flora, I allowed my mind to wander with all kinds of ideas. Since moves weren't bound by strict physics laws and could be altered, I could (theoretically) be able to do anything with them. Considering how Fenway's later evolution would also encapsulate a dual typing, I could only bet that her technical physiology would be altered in the ensuing transformation.

'If I can figure out how to strategically utilize each aspect of Fenway's known movepool and figure out how they perform these moves, then harnessing that sort of raw power could be game-changing. Of course, that's an enourmous theoretical and I'm way in over my head as it is. Speaking of, some pokedex entries discussed how energy that pokemon produce are linked to their own body or a specialized organ rather than aura. I get that aura isn't as understood by the people of this world than how it's explained in the media I had, but wouldn't some things like Lucario's aura blasts and spiritual links at least have some sort of research being conducted? And if the movies were to be believed in any sense, shouldn't everyone, both humans and pokemon have an aura they draw power from?'

I unbuttoned my cuffs and rolled up my left arm sleeve, staring deeply into the patchwork of skin.

'Should I even be messing with this in the first place? All I'm doing is teaching her to stand a chance, not become a battle-hardened champion.'

Krrsshshshhh

That didn't sound quite right.

I whipped my head back around to the source of commotion, spying Fenway and her training still going. However, I couldn't see what had made the sound. It certainly wasn't like the sound of fire smacking against a bark, and it wasn't like Fenway could just sound like rustling leaves.

Rustling leaves? Rustling...leaves?

My eyes beelined towards the target of the constant barrage, watching as more and more chunks of wood sprayed in every direction. The determined fox had made quite a lot of progress in whittling down the wide stem, a very clear crater forming into the now-deceased log. From the spot I had sat in I could see that the crater took up a decent chunk of the bottom half of the trunk. A new creaking sound had begun to moan its grievances as the embers berated the tree.

The tree was going to crash onto Fenway.

"FENWAY!" boomed my panicked voice, dashing towards the terrifying sight.

Fenway spewed out the last of her attack and spun around again to see me bolting directly at her. Adrenaline clouded my mind as I tried to sprint as fast as possible, maneuvering over smaller plants and shielding my face from oncoming branches.

Unfortunately, I didn't notice the obscured protruding root that had decided to snag the front of my shoe in place.

My body jerked back in recoil as I was sent straight into the dirt, my eyes flying open in surprise. I managed to break my fall by holding my arms out to absorb the fall and keep my rolled shirt from getting dirty, but all of the momentum I had built up was gone. I was rendered helpless as I witnessed the event unfold; the massive figure of the oak tree looming menacingly over Fenway's tiny frame. My heartbeat felt like an engine in my chest.

"Fenway! MOVE!" I demanded, thrusting an arm to signal her to flee.

The vulpine flashed an entire array of emotions before bounding away without question, right towards me. Then, I heard snapping.

Crisped wood shrieked as they splintered off under the weight of the top half of the mighty oak as the top half slowly descended downwards. Leaves and nuts came tumbling down to the shaded ground, followed closely by sizable branches and even a few nests. Fenway had just enough time to dodge out of the way from some falling debris, narrowly weaving her way to safety.

The situation was getting sour, fast.

I tried to kick out the wiry entanglement. No such luck. Next I tried brute forcing it with my other leg. No such luck. Finally, out of sheer desperation, I clenched onto the bundle of roots and yanked with all my might. The roots shot out of the ground and dirt sprayed from their absence, freeing my previously captured leg. What I saw when I turned back was a scene fresh out of hell.

There was Fenway, running as fast as her little legs would allow, with the looming shadow of the tree cast directly over her. Time seemed to stand still as the tree just came closer and closer, and closer, and closer…

Until it was mere feet above the pokemon.

She was going to be crushed.

She was going to be crushed, and I could do nothing.

Suddenly, something zipped out from behind the overgrowth, slamming into Fenway's side. The fox let out a hushed yelp as she was knocked off her feet and twirled on the ground, just barely out of the log's way as it slammed into the ground with a mighty thud.

By now I had already made it back to my feet, and was running back to the pokemon's side. Thin layers of dust had been caked onto my pant legs as I raced to check on her, gritting my teeth. I didn't have time to feed my curiosity in the mad dash as worry had sponged up all of my thoughts.

Peeling back burnt twigs and brush revealed Fenway's dirty form, curled into a disheveled but unharmed ball. Oxygen returned to my legs as I fell back onto my rump and took in large gasps of air. The frightened fox cautiously lifted her head out of the defensive position, breathing rampant and ears drooped. As soon as she laid eyes on my panting form she took off and crashed into my chest, a slight quiver in every breath. My brain had yet to catch up with the events unfolding before my very eyes as I sat motionless, staring blankly at Fenway.

I had panicked. I had dove head first into danger instead of considering a more logical option. Why couldn't I think? Why was I so worried about Fenway?

A frustrated hand curled in on itself, nails digging into palm. I could've just recalled her with my pokeball. I could've stopped everything, but instead I charged in like a moron. Why…

'Why hadn't I thought of that?'

"Hey, is anyone out there?"

Every muscle in my body tensed at once. The entire ordeal must have made an enormous ruckus and drawn someone over to the scene. Now I'd have to deal with trying to explain why there was a decimated tree and frazzled fennekin in my lap.

What a mess.

Dusting myself off, I lightly nudged Fenway off of me. "Yes, we're further in."

After a moment of rustling overgrowth, a figure emerged. Black hiking boots and jeans broke through the layer of brush as I rose to my full height to make myself appear semi-decent. A familiar face scanned the area, jet black eyes relaxing as they fell upon me.

"Are you alright? I was heading down the route when I heard the commotion."

"We're fine, merely a training mishap."

The younger boy wiped his brow as though he had worked up a sweat. "Thank gosh! So it was you who knock down the tree?"

"Not intentionally." I added, scratching the back of my neck. "Thought that the area would be safe to experiment a bit. It seems that I, uh, misjudged."

"So, you did fell it! Your fennekin must be pretty strong if it can fell a tree trunk that thick." He praised, pointing towards Fenway who had plopped herself behind my leg. "Would you be willing to have a battle?"

I held up my hand. "Hold on, I think we're getting a bit ahead of ourselves…"

"No worries, it'll just be a friendly battle, so no pokedollars will be jumbled or anything like that," The boy assured, offering a hand. "What do you say?"

I quirked an eyebrow down to Fenway who was beginning to inch out from behind my leg. She was thankfully unharmed, and I at least had basic knowledge of a few moves. Besides, there was still a bit of daylight left, and training against inanimate objects didn't seem to reap much yield. Or safety.

Experience would be key to understand these disputes in the future if I were to find myself in a perilous situation.

"Before I give my answer, shouldn't you at least give me your name? It's common courtesy to do so at least."

"Oh, right! I guess I was a bit hasty there." The young man laughed off.

"My name's Calem!"


I ended up enjoying the revisions of this chapter more than I thought when I came back to it. Hopefully the dialogue isn't as janky as it once was. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did revising!

Anyhow, the next chapter will have a whole lot more action than this one; things are beginning to pick up.

If you're liking the story so far, as always feel free to favorite and follow and leave your thoughts in a review. It helps me out exceptionally well.

Until next time homies.