From my spot at the register, I bounced my knee as I looked down, sliding my phone out of my pocket to check the time.
8:48 P.M
Figures. I always got a little antsy nearing the end of my shift but I was itching to be done for the day. I'd been put on the register instead of stocking shelves permanently now, a welcome change since the manager at Jaffa Mart had let employees bring stools or chairs to their spots. There wasn't a single clock in sight, but usually I could get away with sneaking a glance at my phone when no one was looking. February had given way to March but the winter chill and snowfall would linger at least until the end of the month, it always did. Even in the store, I wore my hoodie with my uniform shirt over it which we were required to have visible at all times.
The store was quite empty at the moment. There was music from loudspeakers faintly filling the building with pop-rock that had been popular maybe 10 years ago, interrupted only with pre-recorded messages about deals the store was running at the moment. Apples were 89 Pokedollars a pound, and there was a buy-one-get-one deal on pork shoulder, that sort of thing. I had learned to tune it out a long time ago, giving my attention to the same repeated jingles, messages and songs was mind-numbing but it made me grateful when a customer came in. Having someone to talk to and something to do with my hands, if only briefly, was nice. Occasionally, the squeal of an old cart being used to stock shelves would ring across the aisles.
There's a shout, some whooping and laughing as I spot two teenagers horsing around at the other end of the store. The first, sporting a buzz cut and wearing a heavy coat and shorts in active defiance of the Sinnohan winter going on outside, is chasing his friend in a beanie cap with messy blonde hair poking out from under it. He's wearing boots, but hasn't layered up for the cold outside. Beanie-Cap runs to the produce and grabs an apple, which he whips at his friend who catches it without blinking before tossing it back. The two of them carry on, laughing and chasing each other through the aisles. I think the manager has left for the day, and neither I nor the stock boys feel like intervening. Besides, they hadn't done anything wrong or malicious yet. Soon, the two of them approach the register, and I notice the red simian creature following at the buzz cut kid's heels, a Pansear that waves at me. Haphazardly, they toss their collected junk food onto the counter. Beanie-Cap has a wide grin on his face as he watches me scanning their items while Buzz Cut is just staring daggers at me. His chin is raised, and all of the energy and humor has left him. His face is wide, moonish and baby like with faint wisps of facial hair along his chin and jaw. They can't be that much younger than I am, just based on their height and their general attitude. I scan the last item, a family size bag of spicy chips that I bag along with the other junk they've bought.
"That'll be 1640," I tell them before something lands on the counter in front of me, an XL candy bar wrapped in bright paper promising 30% more chocolate and a fast-track to diabetes. Beanie-Cap is finding it hard to contain his laughter, and while I ring up the candy, his friend drops more crap onto the counter each time I ring up a new total. A can of soda that dents but doesn't explode, two more candy bars, a lighter-
Technically I should be asking for ID when selling a lighter, especially to two dumb kids. But they have a Fire Type Pokemon with them. There's nothing I'd be preventing by letting them have this, and frankly I just wanted them out of the store so I could clock out and go home. I flick it a few times before Buzz Cut slaps something onto the counter.
A Trainer ID.
I slid the card towards me, examining it in full. As I'd never signed up for the Circuit, I never had one myself and I'd stopped talking to Hector and Teysa before their first year as Trainers began. His name was Harrison Montgomery, and it showed his age as 16. If anything this was more proof that I shouldn't be selling it to him. On the bottom row of the card were eight squares that indicated Gym Badges that had been acquired. Eight empty squares, along with showing the date he'd signed up, around 2 months ago. I slide the card back before scanning the lighter and tossing it into their bag. Buzz-Cut, or Harrison rather, curled his lip into a sneer as he watched me.
"2080." I stated flatly, sliding their bags towards them.
Harrison glanced away from me, towards the automatic sliding door exit nearby, then back to me. Beanie-Cap did the same, suddenly more alert and aware.
"Big plans tonight?" I asked.
"Bigger than yours, loser," he taunted. Behind him, Pansear pulled its lower eyelid down and stuck its tongue out at me.
"Big talk from someone who's girlfriend is a microwaved sock," I retorted.
He went in the red face, stuttering out something I couldn't hear as his friend burst into laughter behind him. Harrison snapped and began laying into him, shouting at him to knock it off as he fumbled with his wallet.
"2080, please," I reminded him, keeping a grip on the bags in case they thought bolting with their goods in hand was a valid plan.
"2080, please, sir," Harrison inflected, making eye contact with me again, a fistful of bills and coins tightly clutched in his shaking fist.
"You don't have to call me sir, we're all friends here," I responded, waiting for him to hand over his cash.
He threw the money at me, the coins scattering around on the counter and floor around him. With one hand I counted out his total and pushed the bags forward, but they quickly snatched them away and ran for the door before I could give them their change.
As I was putting the last of the bills in the register, I heard the sliding doors nearby open and something whizzed past my head and collided with the wall behind me, coating it with a fizzy liquid. The soda can dropped to the ground with a hollow clatter, and I realized some of it had coated my arm.
I clicked off the light for my register and went to a supply closet nearby, filling the mop bucket with hot water and soap. As I cleaned up the mess, I felt a little sick to my stomach.
Arceus, I'm pathetic. Trading barbs with teenagers, and this is what I have to show for it, more work. It's probably what I deserve.
I let the mop slide out of my hand and clatter to the floor. The sound carries across the store for a brief moment. Even the noise of the music has faded into the background, something I can barely make out now. Looking at the wet floor, I look up and around. There's no one in sight, no one else in the store has come to check out the commotion. The stock boys must be smoking out on the back loading dock, or they've clocked out early and I just haven't noticed.
I find myself back at my station at the register, and I open the till to look at the bills and coins in perfect, neat order. I could empty them all right now, pocket the cash and take a cab to a nearby city.
But they had my information. There were cameras. They'd find me eventually, I'm not a master criminal and I don't have Pokemon to help me evade capture. And it would make things harder for my mother who was struggling to get by without me.
With a heavy hand, I slam the register closed and sink to the floor. I lower my head and clutch my knees. I really was just pathetic, and a coward like Teysa had said. I got into petty exchanges of insults with teenagers and got attacked and beaten just to scrape together a meager existence on poverty wages. I sat there taking deep breaths and waiting for it all to pass, the anger, the dread and the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness. I catch my breath, and realize I'd been shaking the whole time, and my legs are asleep as I stand back up again, that awful tingling sensation fading as I take tentative steps towards the mop bucket. I empty it out, put everything back in the supply closet.
"You're still here?" a voice calls out as I'm closing up the closet.
I turn, and see Terry there. Just like me, he's wearing a hoodie under his uniform shirt. His dirty blonde hair falls in strands around his face, and the night manager has a cigarette in his mouth, the glowing end of which is dangerously close to his goatee.
I pull out my phone: 9:33. I should've been clocked out awhile ago, but I guess the time got away from me.
"Yeah, sorry about that. I'll get out of your hair," I told him.
"No worries my man, you take it easy driving home."
Right, I'll do that.
The walk home is long and the cold is brutal even with a second pair of socks and the heavy winter coat I've got on. I had picked it up at a huge discount, the guy at the store even claiming that they were a favorite of the dockworkers in Snowpoint. What a crock of shit. The winter is getting in its last hurrah, the snow and cold air biting into me even through the layers. When I arrive home, I peel off my coat and boots before clicking on the electric blanket to warm up my bed, another thing I'd picked up at a discount from a camping supply store that had been going under. Mom is asleep, but I scrounge around the kitchen for dinner before calling it a night.
"I can't go on a journey.."
Teysa looks at me, appalled, then offended but her voice doesn't show it.
We were walking down a random street in Jubilife, a few weeks into the summer. It was hot, but Teysa had insisted we head to a convenience store for snacks and drinks.
"Yes, you can. Stop saying that stupid shit. Tambo only had a few Eggs and you're lucky my Mom was able to convince her to part with one of them. Poliwag grow fast, and it'll be a great starter for taking on Roark-"
"I just told you, I can't!"
"What, because of your mom? This is what you wanted, you wanted to be a Trainer, you wanted to travel with me, I thought that was our plan."
I stop walking to make a point, trying to dig my heels in and get her to listen. She turns to face me, stopping, and I realize that we'd both began raising our voices.
"She can't work Teysa, there's no one to help or support her-"
"Oh that's bullshit! I told you I'd help you, money isn't an issue-"
"But it is for me! What happens if we break up, and I'm stranded with next to nothing on the other side of the region with just a Poliwag to get me home?"
"So what, you're planning on breaking up with me, is that it?"
There's a sinking feeling in the middle of my chest. I didn't want that, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything else. There was no will left to fight.
"Arceus, you're a coward and the most unbelievable pussy I've ever met. Fine, we're through, there's no future traveling with or talking to you anyway. But thank you for saving me the trouble of dropping your worthless ass before you slowed me down."
I have off Wednesdays, which for the time being meant I was throwing myself into work at the Rehome Project. Money was tighter than usual for us but I hadn't felt this good in a very long time. I knew at a certain point I'd have to start looking for other work. Rent and food couldn't be paid for with happiness and fulfillment after all, but I was determined to enjoy this for the time being. And hey, maybe I'd find a better job that gave me weekends off and I could still volunteer in my spare time.
It had been almost a month since Elaine brought Tyrogue in. During that time, other Pokemon had left and entered our care but the Fighting Type was determined to be a thorn in our side. He picked fights constantly, though Deeni was usually the one that stopped him when things got out of hand. Some days were easier though, and he'd keep to himself away from people and Pokemon alike. On several occasions, I caught him watching the other Pokemon playing and running around, enjoying themselves. He'd quickly avert his gaze and turn his back to me.
This morning I was feeding some of the aquatic Pokemon, and Wendell had opted to let me do it myself this time. Psyduck pulled himself up onto the platform before walking over to me, his wet feet slapping against the concrete as he approached. The Water Type plonked himself down beside me and tugged at my pant leg, cocking his head at me as he did so. Psyduck had become something of a buddy to me while I was doing this. Etta, the Lapras, was slow to trust other people, but she was coming around to me once she saw that Psyduck and the others were willing to approach and that they were okay. Feeding Etta meant putting a large bowl of her feed onto a little buoyant pool floatie and pushing it to her. Plus, the Pokemon liked to play with them once she was finished eating. I throw more feed pellets out into the water and set another floatie out for Octillery. Technically she could eat the food I was throwing into the water just fine, but Wendell mentioned that he preferred eating it dry from a bowl.
Another tug on my pant leg.
"Psy-ay-ay?"
"Yeah, I haven't forgotten about you, don't worry," I reassured him. I scratch the yellow duck's head before putting the feed bowl in his lap. "Don't eat too fast this time, ok?"
It's a little after 10 when I finish cleaning up the bowls and head out to find Wendell. I find him at his desk, downing another cup of coffee and sorting through some papers. The office is a bit of a mess, there's three messy desks crammed in here. On one wall, a pegboard was heavily laden with advertisements, fliers and brochures. Nestled among them was a takeout menu for a place nearby, Golden Karp. It was one of my favorites, though I hadn't ordered from there in quite a long time. Shoved into one corner and unplugged was a large industrial fan and several smaller desk sized ones rested on stacks of paper and folders on desks and filing cabinets.
"Ah, jus' the man I wanted to see," the old man said, leaning forward in his chair as I approached.
"I hope I'm not in trouble."
"Not this time," he chuckled. "Got a special job for you. Remember Tyrogue?"
I nodded. It had been a few weeks since the Fighting Type had come into our care but he hasn't been making much progress. Tyrogue had insisted on picking fights and antagonizing the other Pokemon. It didn't usually get very far as there were caretakers to intervene and the other Pokemon weren't keen on getting pushed around either. Still, no one seemed to be able to bond with him.
"I been thinkin' he needs an outlet. He's only pickin' fights because he wants to move, to train. You're gonna give 'im that,"
"You want me to take him on runs around Jubilife?", I asked, slightly skeptical. If he had the energy and will, Tyrogue could probably run away from me if he wanted to.
"No, I want ya to battle with 'im. Tyrogue needs to fight and scuffle, test himself 'gainst stronger foes," Wendell admitted.
I was actually baffled by the idea. I wasn't a Trainer and I hadn't been in a battle in my life. I thought this was especially unusual given that the Rehome Project often took in the battling Pokemon of abusive Trainers.
"I'm not a Trainer, wouldn't Elaine and her Audino be better suited for this?"
"Well, she actually thought you'd be up for it. And if it turns out you two aren't a good fit, I agreed to let her watch over Tyrogue," he explained. "There're arenas 'round the city for public use, I'm sure any number 'a rookie Trainers will be willin' to battle."
"But what if he gets hurt? I don't have the money to take him to a Center-"
Wendell waved his hand, cutting me off.
"I'll front ya the cash, along with this," he said. From behind a stack of books and binders, the old man produced a Pokeball and set it down in front of me, then set a small pile of Pokedollar bills next to it. "Wasn't registered to anyone, so he's ours for the time being. I left 'im alone for awhile. Probably wouldn't hurt to talk to 'im, get acquainted before y'throw 'im into a battle."
I wasn't really sure what to make of this. My whole life I'd wanted to be a Trainer, traveling, raising Pokemon. I'd made plenty of plans for that future but those dreams had to die. And I'd never raised or trained a Pokemon, Mom and I hadn't had any, not even as companions. It felt like a lot of pressure but I also had to try right? I couldn't just back out because it might be a little difficult.
"Fine, I'll give it a shot."
Elaine stood next to me, holding up a Pokedex of her own. It looked to be in rough shape, a bit beaten up, dented and weathered. Her Audino was playing a ring toss game by herself, while Tyrogue sat on the opposite side of the room by himself.
We were in a small room, no more than fifteen feet to each side. The floors and walls were padded with exercise mats, the types they used for gymnastics.
"This thing's a piece of junk, but it was free and they were going to scrap it anyway. Ah, here we go, Tyrogue," Elaine announced as she walked forward and held it up to him. The Fighting Type's scowl turned towards her, glaring and…
It was supposed to be intimidating, a threatening stare to thwart off challengers but Tyrogue didn't have the chops for it.
"Is he constipated or something?" I asked.
"Titus, that's not funny!" she scolded before I heard a giggle from Audino. "Deeni, don't encourage him!
Elaine moved the hair out of her eyes as she looked at the Pokedex before walking back and handing it to me.
Tyrogue, the Scuffle Pokemon
Type: Fighting
Ability: Steadfast (click for more information)
Evolution(s): Hitmonchan, Hitmonlee, Hitmontop
Moves: Tackle, Leer, Double Kick, Dizzy Punch
"Tyrogue? Think you could show me a few of your moves?" I asked him.
The pink creature turned his glare towards me before looking away and crossing his arms.
"No? That makes this tough then, I can't really help you battle if I don't know what you're capable of."
It was subtle, but his expression softened. He uncrossed his arms and fiddled with his hands a bit before looking at me. Actually looking, not just trying to scare me away. I had his attention now, I just had to not mess it up.
"Wendell said you might have an easier time here if you were battling and training. If you and I can get along, we'll go to an arena nearby and find you an opponent," I told him.
Tyrogue stood up, rolling his shoulder as he looked at me.
"Alright, show me a Double Kick."
The Fighting Type's feet began to glow before he leapt towards the wall with a sudden yell. The heel of his left foot slammed into the wall before he spun and kicked off with his right, leaping back and landing on his feet. I wonder if he'd practiced that. Either way, he looked incredibly pleased with himself as Elaine and Deeni clapped for him.
Tyrogue's Tackle was a straightforward charge with him guarding his face and side with his leading arm. I had to hold back a laugh though when he made contact with the wall and he bounced off of it, though Deeni quickly rushed over to help him up.
"I'd say he's ready. Just don't go too hard on him, and don't go picking fights he can't win, okay? He needs exercise, not to be brutalized," Elaine reminded me.
As I wasn't confident that I could catch Tyrogue if he decided to run, I opted to keep him in his ball until we got to the arena. I took the bus to get there, and though it normally allowed Pokemon of his size, I also wasn't sure how he'd behave around new people or Pokemon, or vehicles even.
The arena I arrived at was one of several in the city of Jubilife. Being one of Sinnoh's largest cities meant it needed places for rookies and veterans alike to practice. It was dangerous to always be training in the wild, especially for newer Trainers. Plus, it helped to be able to battle against others of your skill level. While this particular arena was quite a bit larger, it was also older as well. The battlefields were a flat earthen surface with chalk lines drawn on them, but there were several bleachers on the sides for spectators. Near the far side were several old vending machines with a few people hanging out near them. As I walked in, I noticed that the place didn't have a ton of people battling, which set me at ease. I'd hate for Tyrogue's first battle to go poorly and have a crowd of people around to witness it.
I released the Fighting Type from his ball, letting him take in the surroundings. For a solid minute, he was in awe, staring out at the other Trainers battling at first. Then his attention was caught up in the lights and how enormous this building was.
"C'mon, let's find you an opponent," I told him.
At a distant arena was a Trainer with long red hair. Her Starly was flying overhead, and she appeared to be throwing plastic rings for it to catch out of midair. It was impressive to watch the aerial acrobatics the Flying Type performed, but I steered Tyrogue away. He wouldn't fair well against it and I didn't want to put him at a disadvantage for his first battle.
"Yo," I heard a voice call out.
I turned and saw a stocky boy around my age with sandy blonde hair approaching.
"Looking for a battle? I could use the practice," the boy said, tossing a Pokeball from hand to hand.
"Uh yeah, sure," I agreed. "1 on 1 okay?"
"Sounds good to me."
We picked an open field closest to us. I stepped into the chalk rectangle that served as the Trainer's Box, then knelt down to Tyrogue. The pink creature was looking at the other Trainer, who'd released his own Shinx onto the field. The Electric Type stretched, arching its back down as it yawned, its bright blue and black fur bristling and crackling.
"Don't worry too much about winning, just give it your best shot," I encouraged him.
The Fighting Type rolled his shoulder and stretched his arms overhead as he stepped out of the box, ready to fight. Across the field, my opponent called out.
"Begin in 3, 2, 1, go! Quick Attack!"
"Double Kick!"
But he wasn't listening. Tyrogue widened his stance, put one arm out to block and the other lowered to his side. His hand closed to a fist, and began to glow white with power. Shinx began to glow before becoming a blurring blue streak that tore across the field to collide with the Fighting Type, crashing into his midsection and knocking him head over heels before he could throw his punch. Tyrogue slammed into the ground before rising to his knees and whipping his head looking for Shinx, who was loping in a circle around him. The blue feline even appeared smug about all of this. Standing up, Tyrogue glared at the Electric Type.
"Quick Attack!"
"Tyrogue, Leer!"
Once again he refused my orders, but backpedaled a few steps as our orders were issued. Shinx tore across the field…
And was met with a powerful kick that swept upward, colliding with Shinx's jaw, halting its attack and causing the Electric Type to howl in pain as it was knocked back. The kick didn't count as a registered move or I would've seen it in his information, but that didn't mean it wasn't fair game.
"Spark!"
Shinx recovered quickly, darting forward and letting loose a blast of electricity with the mightiest roar a Pokemon of that size was capable of. Tyrogue threw two punches that whiffed and sailed harmlessly over the Electric Type's head before he was overtaken by the electric attack, screaming out in pain as he fell over. After several seconds, he didn't rise to his feet.
"Shinx, that's a wrap, come on back," my opponent called out as he recalled his Pokemon.
I did the same, recalling Tyrogue to his ball with a bitter feeling creeping through me. It was bad enough we'd lost but Tyrogue wouldn't listen to anything I'd told him.
"Did you just catch him? Seems like he has kind of a bad attitude," the stocky kid said as he crossed the field.
"I guess he's a fresh capture?" I said looking at the Pokeball in my hand before addressing him. "It's sort of a work project, I was told to get him out and battling, and you saw how that went."
"That's rough considering he won't even listen to you. I won't hound you for prize money, but not every Trainer here will be that nice," he admitted. "You should definitely go get him looked at that though."
I ended up trading contact information with him. His name was Theo, and he told me to look him up for a rematch if I ever got Tyrogue to actually listen to me.
I shuffled out of the cold and into the massive red-roofed Pokemon Center, and I was immediately made aware of how pristine the place was. Overhead lights made everything bright and pleasant. I thought a place that had Trainers coming in and out at all times would be a nightmare to maintain, but that wasn't the case. There was a chemical tang of floor cleaner that hung in the air, and I noticed two vases of flowers at the reception counter as I approached. I suddenly remembered that I'd been trudging through the muck and snow of Jubilife's streets, but was relieved that what I'd been stepping on was a large and well-worn heavy duty rug.
"Hello there, how can I help you?" the nurse said as she looked up from her computer.
"I just need my Pokemon looked at, please," I replied, placing his Pokeball on the counter.
"I'll be glad to help, are you a registered Trainer on the League Circuit?"
"No, I'm not."
"You'll have to pay for the treatment then. If you were registered we would waive the fee. Could probably treat your Pokemon in the time it takes to get you signed up," she stated very matter-of-factly.
I would be lying if I'd said I hadn't considered it, but I was here on Wendell's dime and Tyrogue didn't actually belong to me. In addition to free treatments, Trainers signed up for the League Circuit could stay in the Pokemon Centers rooms for free and received free meals too. Just on those two amenities alone I was tempted, but being a Trainer was an incredibly difficult not to mention expensive career. I declined the offer still, and the nurse placed the Pokeball onto a pedestal device hooked up to her computer.
"Tyrogue, huh? They can be quite a handful. I usually see Fighting Type specialists raising them, though Leader Maylene from Veilstone has been known to use a Hitmontop on occasion," she said as looked at the computer screen.
I'd heard stories about Maylene. When she began her tenure as Gym Leader, she was heralded as a child prodigy, not only as a Trainer but as an incredible martial artist.
"Go ahead and have a seat, we'll call you back when we're finished."
With my phone in hand, I found a corner with no one nearby and settled into an armchair that was way more comfortable than I expected.
Two hours later, I exited the Center and released Tyrogue. The staff had mentioned that other than some electrical burns, he was perfectly fine and they'd managed to patch him up pretty easily. The Fighting Type materialized, then shivered as he looked around. I realized that he'd gone from the safety and comfort of the Center to his ball to being shunted out onto the cold streets of Jubilife.
"That first battle was rough, huh?"
Tyrogue frowned and turned away from me, looking in the opposite direction as I said it.
"Y'know, there's things to be learned from failure and losi-," I began.
The Baby Pokemon rounded on me with a glare, baring his teeth and actually hissing at me. I took a step back and scratched my head.
"Alright, alright. Do you want to walk back home with me, or am I putting you in the ball?"
I realized that we didn't have a very clear way of communicating. Most Trainers didn't, and outside of Psychic Types and certain select species most didn't have a means of telepathy.
Tyrogue stopped hissing and his expression softened as he considered my question.
"Okay…how about this? If you want to walk, stomp the ground once. If you want back in the ball," I told him, making a circle with my thumbs and index fingers. "Go like this."
He frowned and stomped, his foot slapping against the concrete.
"It's gonna be cold-"
Tyrogue stomped the ground twice as he began glaring at me.
"Figured I'd offer. Come on then," I told him.
The walk back to the Rehome Project was going to take a little while, but at least the mid-day sun and the exercise would keep us warm. Tyrogue was keeping pace with me, and if he was getting cold he certainly wasn't showing it.
As we passed the arena, however, I heard him shout from behind me.
"Ty, Tyro!"
I turned, and found him pointing at the doors of the arena, a frown on his face as he stomped.
"You want to go back there? Look, I can't help you if you don't listen-"
"Ro, Tyro!"
"Yeah, if I have to take you back to that Center I'm gonna get the cops called on me, they'll think I'm abusing you."
More stomping, baring teeth, glaring. Tyrogue jabbed his finger at the door, clearly growing impatient.
"Fine," I relented, walking back towards the arena. "Have it your way then."