Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon, nor do I claim to own Pokémon.

Chapter 3: Quiet Warnings

Kurt's shop nestled under the roots of an old apricorn tree, the kind that looked like it had seen every trainer come and go twice. Smoke drifted lazily from the chimney, and the creaky sign over the door swayed with a familiar groan.

Chase nudged the door open, Vulpix trailing close. She didn't flinch at sounds anymore—just moved low and alert, tail dragging like a cooling ember. People stared, but she didn't shrink now.

Inside, the scent of metal and roasted apricorns hung in the warm air. Kurt was at the counter, hammering a seam into a Fast Ball. "You're late," he said, not looking up.

"You're old," Chase replied. His voice was deadpan, but a ghost of a smirk touched the corner of his mouth.

Kurt grunted, maybe amused. "Package is on the bench. Careful. Still sticky."

Chase crossed the shop, boots scuffing wood. Vulpix lingered in the doorway, nose twitching. Kurt's eyes flicked her way. He paused. Then put the hammer down.

"Rare marking," he said.

Chase didn't answer.

"Tail like that—white flame tip. Doesn't happen on its own."

Still nothing.

"You didn't breed her."

"No."

"Didn't buy her either."

"No."

Kurt stepped around the counter and leaned on the bench. "You feeding her?"

"Yeah."

"She listen to you?"

"She doesn't run."

Kurt huffed. "That's not the same as listening."

Vulpix stepped in, slow but steady, and sat by Chase's foot. Her eyes tracked every movement.

Kurt gave her a long look. Then one at Chase.

"I've seen eyes like hers before," he said. "Pokémon trained through fear. They'll follow you to the ends of the world—right up until something spooks them, and then it's fire and teeth."

Chase's jaw tensed. "She's not scared."

"Not right now, maybe. That's the dangerous part." Kurt folded his arms. "You think you've got her calm. What you've got is quiet. And quiet breaks."

Chase looked down. Vulpix was watching him too, ears perked.

"She's not a project, Chase," Kurt added, softer now. "She's a heartbeat. Don't treat her like something you need to fix."

There was silence.

Then Kurt handed over the package—neatly wrapped, labeled in thick black marker. His hand lingered a second longer than it needed to.

"She yours?"

Chase hesitated. "She's with me."

Kurt nodded once.

"That'll do. For now."

They walked home through streets still littered with confetti. Vulpix stayed close—close enough that her fur brushed against his pant leg every few steps. She didn't glance at passing people. Didn't flinch when a cart rolled by or a flock of Pidgey scattered overhead.

Chase didn't say anything. But he noticed.

When they got home, she didn't wait on the porch this time. She walked in first, circled the rug twice, and curled up by the window. The sun was warm there. She stretched her legs out and exhaled, low and even.

The next day was quiet. Azalea had its post-festival haze—fewer people on the streets, more Slowpoke bobbleheads in garbage bins. Clouds covered most of the sky. It felt like a day made for staying indoors.

Chase tossed her a berry from the kitchen. She caught it in her mouth without hesitation.

They practiced, loosely. He didn't bark orders. Just pointed gently toward cushions or tapped a spot on the floor. She didn't always listen, but when she did, she held his gaze a little longer each time.

Elise tried again, with a hopeful "Hi, sweetie," and a brush in hand. Vulpix didn't run. But she growled—low and sharp.

Precious barked once and backed off, tail between his legs.

Chase shrugged. "She doesn't like being touched."

Elise pouted. "She doesn't like me."

"She doesn't know you."

Chase spent most of the afternoon by the window, legs folded, book in hand. Vulpix lay beside him, her side just barely brushing his knee. She didn't sleep. Just rested, ears twitching with every creak of the house.

By sunset, she hadn't growled in hours.

It started with a knock.

Not loud. Not rushed. Just three even raps on the front door—precise enough to feel wrong.

Chase glanced up from the couch. Vulpix lifted her head, ears twitching. She didn't bark or growl. She just stood, silently, and slipped behind the curtain.

Elise poked her head around the corner. "Expecting someone?"

"No," Chase said, already standing.

He opened the door slowly.

The man on the porch wore a slate-gray coat and a League emblem stitched into his shoulder—official, but not flashy. His ID hung from a lanyard around his neck. His expression was polite, pleasant even. The kind of smile someone wore when they were already writing things down.

"Good afternoon," he said. "You Chase?"

Chase didn't answer right away. "Who's asking?"

The man held up the ID, just enough to read the name: Inspector Alden.

"We're doing routine follow-up regarding some reports from the festival. A few Pokémon went missing during the commotion. One in particular—a female Vulpix, reportedly unstable and aggressive. Belonged to a visiting trainer."

Elise stepped forward, curious. "A Vulpix? What kind?"

"Unusual markings. Pale tail tip. Small frame. Skittish temperament. Sound familiar?"

Chase's jaw tensed. "Haven't seen one like that."

Alden tilted his head slightly. "You sure? Couple locals thought they spotted one near your property."

"I've seen a lot of Pokémon around here," Chase said flatly. "Doesn't mean I collect them."

Behind the curtain, Vulpix didn't move. She barely breathed.

Alden's eyes flicked past Chase, toward the hallway. Then he smiled again—warm, practiced.

"Well. If you do happen to see her, here's my card." He pulled a crisp white rectangle from his coat and held it out.

Chase didn't take it at first.

"She's considered League property until officially released or registered. The claim filed says she was stolen. I'm sure that's not the case here," he added lightly. "But I'd appreciate any tips if you see something out of place."

Chase took the card.

Alden gave a polite nod. "Nice place you've got. Quiet neighborhood. I'll be in town for a few more days, just making rounds."

He turned and left without waiting for a goodbye.

Chase closed the door slowly.

Vulpix emerged from the curtain only after the latch clicked. Her eyes didn't leave the window.

"She's not stolen," Elise said softly. "Right?"

Chase stared at the card in his hand. The League emblem gleamed like a warning.

"No," he muttered. "She's mine."

But his voice didn't sound confident.

Not even to himself.

Chase didn't speak for a long time after the door shut.

The card stayed in his hand, edges digging into his palm. Clean. White. Official. It felt heavier than it should have.

Vulpix crept closer, cautiously. Her nose brushed his ankle. He didn't look down.

"She's considered League property."

He said it like he didn't believe it—but the words had weight. Like lead.

"She's not stolen," Elise said again, quieter now. "Right?"

Chase shoved the card in his pocket and walked past her, muttering, "I said no."

He didn't stop moving until he reached his room.

The door clicked shut behind him.

The silence hit harder in here. The festival was over. No music. No fireworks. Just the wind outside and the ticking of the old wall clock.

He stood in the middle of the room, arms limp at his sides. His breath came short. His thoughts came faster.

They saw her. Someone talked.

They know. They're watching.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

The floor creaked. A soft step. Then another. He turned and saw Vulpix standing just inside the doorway, staring at him.

Not afraid. Not timid.

Just watching.

He sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. "This is bad," he whispered. "This is really bad."

Vulpix padded forward and jumped up beside him—slowly, carefully. Her warmth pressed against his side. She didn't lean fully, but she didn't leave either.

Chase didn't look at her.

"What if they take you back?" he asked. "What if they decide you're his, just because he yelled louder?"

No answer. Just her breathing. Slow. Steady.

"They'll lie," he muttered. "The League always lies. They hide it with clean badges and dumb forms, but they're just as messed up as he was."

Vulpix rested her chin on her paws.

"I'm not gonna let them take you."

His hands curled into fists.

"They can't."

He didn't say it loud.
But he meant it.
Every word.

I know, I said I'd post Monday/Wednesday/Friday. But I just can't help it! I'm having so much fun writing this story, and I hope you enjoy it also~ ;3