Blurb

And now the story of Slub: After being unceremoniously expelled from the safety of his childhood home, the late 20-something, zero ambition, wastrel, Slub, is thrown headfirst into the Pokémon Trainer lifestyle. With dangers around every corner… Like social norms, talking to strangers, and taking responsibility. Is there any chance at all that the anxious layabout can grasp success from the clutches of destiny? Unlikely, but at least it'll be funny to watch. Plus, there's some Pokémon battles, interspersed here and there, to break up the misery.

Good times!

Disclaimer

Pokénantiodromia is an unofficial work of fanfiction inspired by the world of Pokémon, owned by Nintendo and The Pokémon Company. This story is purely for entertainment and non-commercial purposes, with no intent to infringe on any copyrights. All recognizable characters, settings, and elements belong to their respective owners. Any resemblance to real people, even those who may have inspired characters, is purely coincidental. References, quotes, jokes, and homages are included in the spirit of humor, parody, or tribute. While this story follows the general logic and rules of the Pokémon games, certain creative liberties have been taken for storytelling purposes.

This work contains very brief allusions to depression, self-harm, and suicide. These topics are only mentioned in passing and are not depicted in a way that makes light of these topics, nor intended to offend or disturb the reader. Their inclusion does not condone or encourage harmful behavior. Pokénantiodromia contains mostly mild cartoon violence, some dark humor, and very light swearing. A basic understanding of the Pokémon series is recommended, with knowledge of either Pokémon Ruby, Sapphire, Emerald, Omega Ruby, or Alpha Sapphire versions enhancing the experience, as this story makes references to characters and locations from those games in particular.

I sincerely hope you enjoy Pokénantiodromia!

Prologue

"So, you see, Slub, I just don't see this working out for us. I think it's best we just stop beating the dead Mudsdale. We need to get on with our lives…"

Her words definitely hurt, but Slub was pretty numb at this point. It wasn't the first time she had tried having this conversation with him, but judging by the finality of the situation, he was pretty sure this would be the last.

"Boo?" said Magmar, sitting next to Slub on the living room sofa, poking him in the arm with one of its short, white claws. Its attempts to elicit a reaction or response were mostly pointless. Slub had both heard and understood what his mother had said, but he didn't want to believe it.

"Hey, you there?" said Slub's father, standing in the doorway. In his hands was a steaming cup of coffee, shaped like the head of a Meowth, complete with eye-stabbingly awkward porcelain whiskers.

"I… Uh…" Slub said, trying not to look anyone directly in the eyes.

"Honey?" said his mother. "You know, most kids in Hoenn leave home at age, oh, I don't know, 10 to 14, and either go to the Pokémon Academy or become trainers, or take on the gym challenge or hey, do a foreign exchange program to somewhere like Paldea or Unova… Or…"

She waved her hands a little. "Just literally do anything at all."

A short break in her speech let Slub get a word in.

"Yeah, but… Those things don't really interest me," Slub said, trying not to make eye contact.

"Yeah, that seems to be the case for a lot of things… Like schoolwork, working in general, actually… Chores…" his mother, Linda, said.

"Hygiene, touching grass, adulting, saving money, talking to girls…" his father, Harold, added to his mother's list.

"Boo, Baa, Bo," Magmar mentioned, raising a claw for each point made.

"He gets it," Linda snapped. Magmar and Harold both flinched. She took a deep breath and calmly continued.

"At this point, I'm not sure if there's anything me or your father haven't tried to do to help you. It's been so many years with… well nothing. We're not really getting anywhere."

"We've tried nothing and nothing's working." Harold quipped, his dry Galarian humor seeping out, about as enjoyable as a Poison Gas slowly filling an elevator one was stuck inside.

"Harold!" Slub's Mother said, annoyed. He made a dismissive hand gesture.

"All right, Linda, you talk to him," he said and turned around, leaving for the kitchen.

"You're kicking me out," Slub said. "The end?"

"I'm not gonna lie, Honey."

"Mmm?" Slub said, cocking his head to the side. Magmar mimicked the movement. She leaned back in the big brown wicker chair. It was very creaky.

"Yeah, no, we are kicking you out," she muttered before mouthing an inaudible "sorry".

"This seems irresponsible," said Slub.

"I don't think that word means what you think it does," Linda mumbled. Her mouth was a single sharp line.

"So I'm homeless… And alone…?" Slub pleaded.

"Oh, no no no," Linda said. "Please, we're not monsters. Uncle Thaddeus, you remember him right?"

"Uh," Slub said, racking his brain, albeit with some difficulty. He had spent a lot of energy repressing vast swathes of his life. Linda, sick of waiting for a response after about one sixtieth of a second, kept going.

"Harold's brother in the northwest. You know… we followed his trial all those years ago. The contaminated Revival Herb incident right?"

"Oh, no," Slub said.

"The charges were dismissed by the jury," Slub's Father said, having returned to the conversation fresh coffee cup in hand.

"Never mind that," said Linda. "He has a, uhh, natural remedy shop near the run-off from Route 172. There's a little attic apartment that you can live in absolutely free, and you even get a salary from tending to his shop and doing some… chores… You'll figure it out."

Slub's mind was imagining the smell, voice and company of Uncle Thaddeus and neither were very pleasant.

"Or you can attend the local Pokémon School…"

Harold's suggestion was both wildly inappropriate and about a decade or so too late.

"Yeah, I'm not gonna attend Poké-school. Attending a class in which I'm as old as the combined ages of all the other kids isn't exactly on my to-do list."

"Nor is much else…" his father grinned.

"Harold!" Linda croaked, struggling to swallow a laugh. "You can work and figure out what you want," she emphasized and laid a supportive, but not overly so, hand on his knee. She retracted it a few moments later, not wanting to seem too pushy, given the circumstances.

Slub began sweating. This was for real.

"Alright, stop! Just pull the breaks here for a moment… I'll be all alone. And in a crummy part of the country… and…"

"Lest we forget," interrupted Harold, "you'll be a great distance away. Win-win!" he pointed to Slub as if holding an invisible gun, and with a smile he made a clicking noise as if he'd just closed a used car deal. Slub had secretly wished it were a real gun for once.

"Ah, nooo, that's not strictly true." Linda corrected, "We figured Magmar would be coming along."

"Booboo!?" Magmar said and its eyes flared open in what one could only interpret as panic. It began looking from side to side, possibly searching for an escape route.

"I mean, that's nice and all, but I'm not a Pokémon trainer. I don't know how to take care of it."

"Boo huh," Magmar said in a condescending tone and crossed its arms. The flames on its head lit up a paler pink than usual. Clearly the prospect of being deemed unfit to take care of itself was worse than being in the company of Slub.

"Please, you're perfectly able to put Pokéblocks on a plate. You do it all the time," said Slub's father, commencing his sixth cup of coffee of the day which was impressive given that it was currently a quarter to noon.

"And also, my brother, Thaddeus, was a league contender back in the day. He'll probably share all his knowledge with you. He'll know what to do."

"Yes he seems a competent fellow given his track record." Slub groaned and leaned back on the sofa hoping it would swallow him up.

After a few agonizing seconds of cringe-inducing silence he sat back up, smacked his chops and clapped his thighs. "We-ell, Why don't we all just sleep on this for a while," he suggested. "Maybe I can do some job hunting, see if there's a, I dunno a… uhh… or if Wattson's gym needs a uh… or something. I just really don't care to go anywhere right now. It's not really my..."

Before anyone could say anything else, the signature scream of a Hoenn flying taxi sounded a deafening "Meeeeeaa!" outside the house, causing the windows to vibrate and probably Magmar's Special Defense to sharply fall.

"Yeah…" Said Slub's father. "How about we don't…" He took a big sip of coffee and slurped it down loudly, clearly proud of his timing.

"You have got to be kidding me," Slub said, resigned.

"Booooo…" Magmar cried as it feigned fainting, down from the couch and appeared to shrink underneath the table. Slub considered joining it.

Reluctantly, and with his parents behind, shoving him gently ahead, Slub walked out of the house. All he had was his big black raincoat, a single suitcase his parents had packed for him, his laptop and a few other important belongings as well as a single shrunken Poké Ball with a flame sticker on it, attached to his father's old and woefully out of fashion bandolier style trainer's belt. The latter of which had been forcibly strapped onto him. Not entirely dissimilar to a patient getting a straightjacket dragged down over their head. Slub was nudged into the basket of the flying taxi. He turned around and looked at Linda and Harold.

"Uh… cya, I guess…" It was the politest thing he managed to mumble.

"Eeeh, we'll see," said Linda, forcing a smile.

"Bye, son," said Harold. "Say hello to Thaddeus and make sure to do everything he says to the letter."

Slub stared for a moment.

"That's a weird way to say goodbyeeeeeeeee!"

The driver, a short guy in a brown coat, had commanded Skarmory to lift off mid sentence and Slub felt his body slam into the floor of the basket he was standing in. It flew up and away from the good old safe home.

"Aaaaaaarmaaa!" The giant steel bird screamed as it took off vertically in a single flap and then shot forward as wind blew past Slub's ears.

"Good thing I'm not afraid of heights…" Slub thought, daring a peek down. He'd managed to get buckled in, but was still clinging on for dear life.

Back on the ground the couple watched their son fly away into the horizon.

"I hope we did the right thing," said Linda.

"I know we did," said Harold, putting an arm around his wife's shoulder. "Maybe I'll turn his room into a bar."

Slub spent the next hour watching Mauville vanish in the distance and the very northwestern edge of Hoenn came into view. It wasn't a very pretty sight.