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Chapter Text

PROLOGUE

“…Oh, now that’s so cute! Marina’s Wigglytuff used Sweet Kiss! Its elegance and allure has certainly won over the audience and Drew’s Absol! That’s going to cost Drew some points!”

Pale blue light cut through thick and heavy darkness cloaking the room, carrying the giddy exuberance of Jillian Meridian’s coverage along with it. Even with the volume low, Jillian’s excitement and awe were palpable. So much so, Skylar Daniels strained to keep from turning her focus away from her notebook. Ignoring the chills and suspense crawling up her back was equally painful. Jillian Meridian had quite a way of painting pictures with her words; Skylar may as well be smackdab in the middle of the stadium rather than stuffed behind her desk with the moon, her tv, and a notebook for company.

In fact, when she closed her eyes—the brief moments she allowed hovering sleep to press on her—she sat in the stadium with the other spectators, leaning forward in her seat, watching the two decorated trainers work in tandem with their partners to outshine their opponents. She couldn’t breathe but she didn’t want to, afraid a solitary exhale would shatter the carefully crafted bubble encasing her in the spectacular show.

Focus! Eyes snapping open, Skylar huffed a breath out her nose, shook her head, and slapped her palms against her face. The residual sting woke her up enough to look over the numbers coating the page. She grimaced at the sheer abundance of red bleeding over the pockets of black. The small pockets of black. The bubble in her stomach burst, allowing uncertainty to trickle in in sour waves.

Okay, Sky, just relax. Nothing to do but do it. Start again. Propping her cheek up on one fist, Skylar pressed a finger against the number at the top of the page, dragging it down as she checked the numbers and categories. “Okay, we spent this on food and supplies. This was the water bill and the electricity bill. This was the emergency medicine for the oddish. We got this much in donations…but where did this come from?”

Grumbling, she unfolded herself and leaned back against the chair, lacing her fingers together to stretch her arms above her head. It creaked and rocked beneath her shifting weight. She made a mental note to add replacing her chair to the list. But only if they had enough fun money left over.

Satisfied with her stretch, she jabbed the plunger of her pen on the paper in rapid succession, clicks and pops filling the room as she wracked her brain to recall the expenses from the last couple months. They’d received the invoice from the landscaper, the roofer, and the mechanic. Their vaccines had been recently pushed and medicines stocked up. And then there was the utilities and the mortgage…

“—And it looks like Drew’s Absol comes back with Calm Mind to knock itself out of Wigglytuff’s spell, followed by a well-timed Double Team and Shadow Ball combo! Wow, what a show! That combination made a beautiful constellation here in the stadium!”

The tip of Skylar’s nose flattened against the tv screen, the only barrier in place keeping her from getting as close to the competition as possible. Save from actually being in the stadium and watching in person.

The Unova Grand Festival was a big draw on its own, but with Coordinators like Marina, Drew, Solidad, Zoey, and Dawn making appearances, this year’s festivities were a hot ticket. She would’ve been lucky to be able to attend. Too bad it was so far from Kanto. Not to mention she wouldn’t be able to function the next day. And that was non-negotiable.

Too many people relied on her to function.

That was why she was still up past midnight crunching numbers, trying to figure out the missed expense. A missed expense meant an unbalanced ledger. An unbalanced ledger meant they’d have to tighten their spending, bar any other emergencies. And money was already tight. Hell, money was always tight. But, somehow, they managed to work through it and come out in the black every year. Just barely, but it was enough, though not without some close calls. The money her mom sent back every month certainly helped. Skylar bit her lip. She’d have to call her mom first thing in the morning. It had been a few days since their last catch-up and it’d be nice to hear from her.

Blowing out a long sigh, she sat back on her heels, putting some distance between herself and the flickering tv screen, scrubbing her burning eyes with the heels of her palms. She could almost hear her mother chastising her for staying up so late, ruining her eyesight, and taking on work that wasn’t hers. But it wasn’t as if she were around to do it. If Skylar didn’t step in, her dad would. And he had enough on his plate already, with his own appointments thrown in the mix. Besides, she wanted to make their home a success just as much as he did.

“Get it together, Sky. You have to finish!” She grabbed the remote and jabbed her thumb into the crescent-shaped groove in the power button. The screen smashed to black, erasing the image of Wigglytuff charging at Absol. Priorities before fun. She could reward herself with the results later; maybe she’d even have time to catch the repeat showing. Returning to her chair, she closed her eyes and steeled her focus. When she opened them again, another pair stared back. She jumped, chair creaking and rattling, heart flying into her throat.

“Delta!” Her hand flew to her chest; her heart beat a steady bump-bump-bump beneath the bone while she surveyed the vaporeon. “Stop sneaking up on me like that!”

Delta’s eyes narrowed, amusement sparkling in their depths. She sat on the table with her head held high, tall and regal. Moonlight bounced off her skin, much like sunrays glittering on still waters. Her long tail curved around her body, sleek and smooth. The splitting fin at the end tapped against the table in a steady pattern.

Slap-tap-tap, slap-tap. Slap-tap-tap, slap-tap. The vibration against the table rattled in Skylar’s bones, sending the silent code flashing in her mind like a neon sign. DN. DN.

Down. Down.

“I know I should be sleeping,” Skylar said. She ran her hand along Delta’s head, past the white fin encircling her neck, down the ridges of fins lining her spine, to her tail. Her skin, as always, was slightly rubbery and cool to the touch. Withdrawing her hand, she discreetly wiped a thin layer of moisture on the hem of her shorts.

Delta kept tapping, eyes narrowing. The slaps came out sharper. Down. Down.

“Just give me five more minutes.”

The tapping paused. Delta tilted her head, eyes boring into her, and tapped once more. Slap-slap-tap, slap-tap-tap-tap. GB. Goodbye.

Huh? Skylar’s breath hitched. That was new. When did she learn that one? And what was that supposed to mean?

Delta’s eyes flew wide open and appeared to light up from the inside, shifting from dark ochre to an almost buttery yellow. Drawn in, Skylar’s shoulders slumped, and her eyes drew heavy. Curling up in her bed suddenly sounded like the best idea.

Not again. This wasn’t fair.

“Hey…what have…I…?”—Skylar’s admonishment was cut off due to the heft of her chest and the powerful yawn rising in her throat. She tried again—“What have I told you about using hypnosis?”

Delta tapped again. Good.

“I know it’s for my own good. It’s still…” Another strong yawn took hold of her, and she lifted her hand to cover her mouth. “It’s still a cheap trick.” Leaning forward, Delta nudged her small, wet nose against Skylar’s and pressed the tall dorsal fin against her forehead. “Fine. You win.” A crisp ocean scent wafted off Delta’s skin and filled Skylar’s lungs. She nuzzled against Delta. She could never be annoyed with Delta for too long. “Thanks for always looking out for me.”

A satisfied purr bubbled in Delta’s chest. Skylar scratched behind one of her webbed ear fins and watched as Delta’s back curled and released, like an undulating wave. Chair legs scraped and bumped against the uneven floor when Skylar stood. She flopped onto her bed, limbs sprawled and eyelids heavy. The pillow sank where Delta curled up next to her head, her purrs lulling Skylar like water babbling in a stream.

Okay, sleep was a good idea. In the morning she could look over it again with a clear head and fresh eyes, everything would be balanced and squared away, and they could keep operations going until a new round of donations came in. They’d be fine. In the end, they were always fine.

“Night Delta,” Skylar murmured, pulling a squishy ditto pillow up to her chest. A crisp, floral scent wafted off it when she gave it a squeeze.

Somewhere in the distance, a long sorrowful lament rose to the moon.

Sunrise Sanctuary
Where every pokémon’s story gets a second chapter.

About Us

Sunrise Sanctuary is a nonprofit pokémon rescue and sanctuary based in Arylide Town in the Kanto Region. We take in and care for the most vulnerable pokémon; the ones shelters can’t hold and other rescues can’t take on due to extensive and expensive care. Our team is committed to doing whatever it takes to help abandoned, neglected, disabled, and special needs pokémon survive and thrive. If you would like to support us, please donate, foster, adopt, or volunteer!

Zenith Daniels, Founder, Rescuer, Project Manager

Skylar Daniels, Rescuer, Operations, Communication

Our Mission

We specialize in neglected, disabled, critical care, and special needs pokémon. We believe every pokémon’s life matters and they are as deserving a second chance as humans are allowed. By giving them the proper care, expertise, time, and attention, we provide the pokémon in our care a chance to thrive and live their lives to the fullest. We aspire to promote and teach inclusion, compassion, and to show that every pokémon, no matter their needs, can live full, rich, and happy lives.

Donate

If you have love to give, we have the pokémon who need it! Donate to Sunrise Sanctuary to help us provide the best care for our vulnerable pokémon. Your donations help provide food, formula, medical care, bedding, and mobility aids to our guests. All donations are tax deductible.

Adoption and Fostering

Fill out an adoption application for the guest that captures your heart. If you have space for a shorter amount of time, or are wondering if bringing in a new friend is the way to go, please fill out our foster forms!

Volunteer

Do you have a big heart and are looking for a way to give back to the community? Come volunteer for us! We’re looking for those that can take some of our guests on walks, feed them, stimulate them, groom them, and show them around to potential adopters. If you’re interested, please fill out the form below!

Affiliates

We work in conjunction with Mr. Fuji and the Pokémon House in Lavender Town.

Follow Us

Follow us on our social media channels to get up-to-date information on the pokémon in our care, know when adoption days are coming up, and get notified of future donation events!

Chapter Text

ONE | The Skitty Extraction

As her cheek bumped and scraped against the rough asphalt, Skylar held her breath to keep from inhaling the rotten stench wafting up the storm drain. She didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed it wasn't a pile of trubbish stuck down the drain instead of the mewling, squirming bag of skitty. The lack of fresh air certainly wouldn't hurt the trubbish.

The skitty—five, she counted, all of them climbing over one another—couldn't have been more than a few days old. From what she could see past her arm dangling in the opening, their eyes hadn't closed yet, their ears sat folded against their heads, and their umbilical cords were still attached. Judging by their cries, they were hungry too.

Very hungry.

"Crap," she hissed, withdrawing her arm. Even if she could reach them, she'd never be able to bend her arm the right way to get them out. She lifted her front off the pavement, knelt, and hastily rubbed the back of her hand against her cheek. Something greasy smeared against her brown skin. She didn't give herself time to wonder what it was, or be disgusted by it, as she whipped out her pokégear. "Don't worry. I'm coming to get you, okay? I just need to call my dad," she called into the hole.

Heart thudding, she pressed her father's number which was programmed into the #1 spot of her contacts list. The little sprite of his head appeared on the screen next to the CALLING signal, a little phone wiggling in time with the ensuing chime.

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. Skylar bit her thumbnail. Her dad had to answer. He'd know what to do. He always knew what to do. People trusted him with their pokémon when it came to putting them on the right track and that came with making the difficult decisions. She could almost hear his warm, understanding voice, focused and confident, talking her through the situation. Taking control.

Only it never came as the ringing stopped and was, instead, replaced with the low beeps of a failed call. She redialed, waited, and got the failed call sound again. She tried again, and again, and again.

Dammit! Skylar tossed her pokégear and scrubbed her face with her palms. It skidded against the asphalt, coming to a rest up against the muddied tires on her truck sitting across the street. She didn't have time to park closer when she was flagged down by a jogger and her poochyena in front of the flower shop. All she'd heard was "strange sound", "storm drain", "skitty" and she sprang into action. The woman was gone by the time she'd looked up to ask clarifying questions.

She knew she should've taken Delta with her! Delta would've been able to melt down and flatten herself enough to fill the space and get the skitty out with little problem. But Skylar had brushed off her gut feeling and allowed Delta to rest a little longer while she went out. Delta was as obliging as she was languid, and now here Skylar sat, alone, without any idea how to get the skitty out.

How was she going to take over one day if she didn't know how to handle this situation?

Huffing, she sat back against her heels. There had to be something she could do. Relax. Breathe. Focus. Letting her emotions take over wouldn't help, she had to shove them down and tackle the task at hand. Her stomach expanded and contracted beneath the efforts of her calming breaths, in for four, hold for two, out for six. She breathed slowly, ensuring to get all the air in and out of her lungs. Her pounding heartbeat slowed and the noise in her mind stilled, allowing a clear step-by-step process to push forward.

She knew what to do now. Her eyes darted around the still street, surveying the shops lining each side. Darkened storefronts stared back at her, all frozen in suspended sleep while waiting for the dawn of day to bring them back to life.

Except for one.

Dim, blue-gray light poured out of display cases and puddled on the cracked sidewalk in front of Phineas' butcher shop. The rest of the store remained still though she knew he was in the back, preparing his cuts of beef for the day. He and Michael, the town baker, were the only ones regularly up earlier than her. Her mouth twisted to the side. Phineas could have some rope, but the skitty wouldn't be able to bite and hold on long enough to be pulled out, would they? And she couldn't guarantee any rope he had would be clean and free from blood.

But it was better than nothing…

"I'll be right back! Just hang on a little longer!" No response. Her breath hitched and her mouth ran dry. Seconds ticked by. A puffy cloud glided steadily overhead. Finally, the skitty mewled again and relief washed over her. Their cries were faint.

She hurried across the street, dodging a kid on their bike tossing newspapers at the closed storefronts along the way. The kid's bell rang as they glided away, no care in the world. Must be nice. Skylar immediately chided herself beneath her breath at her bitter thought. She was the one who signed up for this life and this is what happened in their line of work.

The bell above Phineas' store clanged behind the force of her barging through the door. Her hip clipped the corner of a case she hurried around, causing her to hiss at the sharp burst of pain. Goosebumps rose to her skin when cool air wrapped around her as she battled her way through the large, thick plastic strips hanging over the back door. Phineas' partner, a hitmonlee, froze in his movement at her appearance. A second later, he slammed a swift kick to a hunk of beef hanging off a large hook in the corner.

"You're early!" A rotund man wearing a black cap with greying hair squeezing out the sides, a stained towel gripped between his hands, and an equally stained apron tied around his waist approached with a hearty smile. Despite bags sitting beneath his eyes, they sparkled beneath the dim light, lines drawing deep in the corners. "I don't have your order prepared just—"

"That's fine, Phin." Skylar winced, hearing her mother's voice scolding her for interrupting in the back of her mind. In this case, she was sure her mother could let her lack of manners go for an emergency. "I need…um…" A breath burst out of her mouth in a rolling cloud. I need help. It was only three words. Three simple words. But they stuck to the roof of her mouth and clogged her throat. She swallowed thickly, shook her head, and tried again, forcing the words out, tight and measured. The more clear-cut information provided, the better. "There are skitty across the street. They're stuck in a storm drain. I can't get them out and I can't reach my dad. Do you have any rope or anything I could use to get to them?"

"Hmm." Phineas slapped the towel over his shoulder and rubbed his chin. Hitmonlee mimicked his gesture. "I do have some rope but, uh, it's only to tie up the cuts of tenderloin." His soft French accent soothed his disappointing words. "I don't believe it'd be strong enough."

Her heart sank at the news. Doors slammed in her face and the window of opportunity shrank as she continued to wait. "Okay, well…well…can you call my dad for me? Please? Just…just keep calling him if you don't get an answer. And try the fire department too!"

Phineas and Hitmonlee nodded. "Of course, Ciel."

Her feet barely touched the ground as she raced back across the street. The asphalt bit and scratched at her arms when she all but slid against the ground, pressing her face up to the storm drain as close as she could manage to peer down. The skitty still crawled over one another, still cried for help, still reached for salvation.

And Skylar was the only one standing between them.

"Hey—you okay over there?"

Skylar popped to her feet and whirled around. A girl stared back at her with soft moss green eyes, mouth twisted to the side with a half-eaten pastry in a crinkled tan wrapper clutched in one hand. She held a bike in the other; its sleek red auburn lines matched the shade of her hair, pulled back in two braids trailing down her back. A large bulge pressed against her cheek where she'd stopped midchew.

"Um, I think I got this," Skylar called back. The cringe taking over a moment later nearly turned her into a pretzel. Why'd she say that? She had to face facts; she didn't have this under control. She didn't have a way to reach the skitty. As much as she wanted to do this on her own, as much as she wanted to take the lead, she needed more help. Bad. Despite how bitter the taste, she had to swallow her pride. "Actually…" The words stuck in her throat, dry and prickly. She licked her lips and tried again. She'd done it once before, but it still didn't come easy. "Actually, I really could use help. Do you have any ropes or anything?"

"Kind of." The girl rewrapped the shiny pastry and shoved it into a pocket of a dusty gray backpack sitting in the wicker basket. "What's up?"

"There are skitty stuck in the drain—"

With the whirlwind force of her shocked gasp, Skylar wondered how the girl didn't choke. "Oh my gosh! Those poor little babies!" Shoving her bike away, it clattered to the ground in a metallic heap. The girl dropped to her knees and shoved her head into the opening. Only when she got up close did Skylar notice the choker with pokéballs wrapped around her neck.

"—I'm trying to get them out. The fire department's taking too long and—"

"Say no more!" Following a loud gulp, the girl wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, revealing a determined smile. She grabbed the pokéball at the front of her neck and tapped the center. It grew in her palm, and she tossed it into the air with a strong, cycling underhanded throw. "Rowan, come on out!"

White light arced in the air and landed by the open drain, growing and stretching to take on the shape of elongated leaves, a tall bulb, and sturdy legs. Once faded, an ivysaur leaned forward, stretching its thick legs while pointing its face towards the sky. Satisfied with its stretch, it turned and let out a happy, raspy greeting towards the girl. A rounded cross-like patch sat in the middle of his forehead.

The girl sat back on her heels and Rowan rushed over, nuzzling his head against her. "Ro, we got an emergency." All at once the glee in his eyes faded to a steely determination and Rowan lifted his front legs to balance himself on her knees. "Some skitty babies are stuck in the drain! Use vine whip and get them out!"

"Hold on!" Skylar thrust out her arm, grasping the girl by the shoulder. "You have to be delicate."

"But we don't have time! We have to hurry!"

"You can't just go charging in there! They could get hurt. They may fall further or get pushed too deep and they'll have no chance of coming back out. You can't rush into this." Skylar unclenched her jaw, easing the ache throbbing in her muscles and worked through another calming breath. "Does Rowan know Sweet Scent?" The girl nodded. "Use that first. Get them to calm down. Once they're comfortable, then use vine whip but let them get used to the vines first. At this stage everything's blurry for them so they won't know what's coming."

The girl nodded and turned back to Rowan who waited for instruction with rapt attention. "You heard the boss, but be careful! The babies are fragile!"

Rowan nodded and faced the drain, shaking his unfurled leaves. They flapped and fluttered, secreting a scent so sweet water pooled in Skylar's mouth and cooled off her fiery nerves. After, cord-like vines grew and stretched out from beneath the bulb on his back. They slipped through the hole in the ground and angled downwards, rounded tips disappearing in the dark.

Skylar pressed her lips together, holding her breath. The vines wrapped around one of the skitty. It didn't put up a fight as it was supported in the vines' hold, instead letting out a weak mewl while settling. Rowan braced himself, leaning back on his haunches while the vines retreated. Once brought to the surface, Rowan carefully wiggled his vines from side to side, ensuring the skitty squeezed through safely. Once deposited in her palms, the girl cradled the skitty in her cupped palms and set it on the bottom of her shirt. She pulled up the hem to create a pocket for the weak pokémon to rest.

"Good boy!" she cheered, flashing Rowan a thumbs up. "Four more to go. You got this!"

Rowan pulled them up one after the other with ease. A couple didn't move, letting him take them to safety as they rested in his embrace, one mustered up enough energy to try biting and scratching at his vines, and the last cried the entire way. It didn't sound as if it were in pain but the miserable wailing broke Skylar's heart regardless. Before long the sorrow burned off to simmering outrage. Who could get rid of the helpless creatures like they were trash like that? Who could be so irresponsible, so cold, so uncaring?

"All present and accounted for!" The girl clutched the five skitty to her stomach and rubbed behind Rowan's ears. His eyes closed and he nuzzled close to the girl's side. "We did it!"

It took Skylar a second to realize the girl was speaking to her. When she dragged her eyes away from the old, crinkled bag the skitty had been found in, she took in the sight of the girl's palm extended in her direction. She frowned. We? There was no 'we' involved. The girl did all the work. If she hadn't come around, if she hadn't been in the area, who knows if the skitty would have lasted any longer.

The girl wiggled her fingers in the air. "C'mon, dude, don't leave me hangin'!" With a reluctant smile, Skylar reached out and tapped her palm against the other. After all, in the end, the skitty were safe. That's all that mattered. "There ya go! Okay, what do we do now?"

"Gotta get 'em home." Skylar pushed her hair out her face and rocked back onto her heels. Her eyes darted around until she spotted her pokégear abandoned on the ground. She hurried over and wiped loose dirt off the screen. A small crack spiderwebbed across the glass but it still worked. That's what she got for letting emotions take the lead.

"Why don't you take 'em to a Pokemon Center?" Rowan and the girl ran up to the truck as Skylar pulled down the tailgate. She didn't miss the heavy dose of 'duh' dripping off the girl's words and landing in a puddle at her feet. Leaping forward onto her stomach, she reached out and grabbed the bundle of blankets near the top of the truck bed, handing them to the girl who wrapped the kittens in one big bundle. She hadn't been prepared for this event coming around, and that was on her, but at least she could keep them warm.

Grunting, Skylar dropped back to the ground. "We don't have one." After a hefty push, the tailgate closed with a heavy slam. It echoed up and down the empty streets. "City's too small. The nearest one's too far away and I don't think we'll make it in time. Besides, my house is closer."

"What about a vet?"

"No vet. We have all the supplies they need to get better."

"Okay, boss!" The girl nodded and jerked her hand against her forehead in a quick salute. "Rowan, get my bike and put it in the back. But be careful! Try not to bend the spokes this time. I'd like to not ride around in circles again." Rowan rumbled in the affirmative and did as he was told.

Skylar faltered, fumbling her keys amidst rounding the side of her truck. "Oh…you're—"

"Of course I'm coming with you!" As if that were the most obvious thing in the world. Skylar was ready to turn her down but something about the way the girl looked at her let her know she'd go so far as throwing herself onto the truck and holding on. So instead, she gave in with a solitary nod.

Once in the driver's seat, Skylar left a voice message for her father explaining everything that happened and how they were headed home. He still hadn't answered any of her calls. Was he okay? Was he hurt? Did something happen? She shook her head. One problem at a time. She'd check on him when she got back. Her heart thump-thump-thumped against her chest in a familiar rhythm. Steps on what to do when she got back lined up in her mind, a picture-perfect to do list. This was it. This was good. She was back.

The passenger door squealed upon opening and groaned on it sway shut as Bowie hopped into the seat. Rowan climbed up after her, squeezing his way onto the bench seat between the two girls. After securing her seatbelt with a sharp click, the truck roared to life when she turned the engine over with a strong yet quick jerk of her wrist. A bouncy, pop song about a beautifly accidentally making people fall in love with her when that wasn't her intention poured out the speakers, leaking around the razz berry shaped vent clip wafting a light, sweet scent throughout the car. The skitty wiggled in their bundle, stretching to get closer to the vents.

Skylar threw down the parking brake and stomped on the gas. The truck shot forward once released, tires squealing when she jerked the wheel to send them back in the other direction. The hummingbird keychain on her keys swung as they flew over the smooth asphalt. About a mile down the street, she'd take a few turns and the pavement would shift over to a dirt road and would lead them back to the rescue. Back home.

"I'm Bowie by the way." The girl turned her sweet smile from the skitty over to Skylar. One had escaped the bundled confines and dug their claws into the front of Bowie's purple shirt, holding on tight. She didn't seem to mind. "In case you wanted to know. So you don't think I'm a serial killer or something."

Skylar hummed. She did, in fact, want to know. She wanted to know how this girl, Bowie, was more prepared to do her job than she had been and where she'd come from because she knew everyone in town and hadn't seen her around before. But something in Bowie's eyes, sparkling like morning dew kissed by the sun, rubbed her raw nerves smooth.

She couldn't be mad at this girl, the one who came to her rescue. She could have gone on her way, not made it her business, but she stayed, and Skylar now owed her one. Still, as helpful as she was, Skylar vowed not to slip up like that again. She couldn't afford to.

"I'm Skylar," she said, eking out a smile. They rolled past a cream-colored sign adorned with loose, flowy lettering in carmine red: Arylide Town, where sunshine meets possibilities.

Chapter Text

TWO | One Soul Abiding

Squeals and groans slid through the silence of the slow-waking morning when Skylar pulled open the barn door. Shafts of the rising sun seeped in through the trees and cut into the morning fog flooding the opening. Dust motes and bits of hay floated in the wafting, crisp breeze. Her eyes adjusted as she moved past stalls holding shapes of various sizes blanketed in the dark; rhythmic snores ebbed and flowed along the way.  

“Hey girls,” Skylar said softly as she unlatched the gate at the end. She wanted to keep the noise down as much as possible so as not to startle them. Keeping to schedule was beneficial for all of them. “Sleep well?”

Two forms in the corner lifted their heads, eyeing her before near identical smiles appeared on their round, pink faces. One yawned, stretching out its plump body before rolling over while the other’s ears twitched and a curious expression appeared on its face. It sniffed the air and jumped to its feet, waddling over. Up-close Skylar noted new lines forming around its sleepy eyes. She made a mental note to make her checkups more frequent, just in case.

“Nana, we need some help.” Skylar knelt as she spoke, rubbing the top of the miltank’s head. “I know you’ve been working hard lately but it’s an emergency.” Nana grasped Skylar’s hand with her black paws and rubbed her cheek against her palm. The pink and black hairs tickled. “Thanks, but we’re doing okay. It’s not for us.” She motioned for Bowie to approach and then tensed. Was she going to rush in like before, loud and all over the place? Skylar couldn’t afford for the rest of the gang to be startled awake.

Thankfully Bowie seemed to read the room because her approach was slow, almost timid, as she stepped forward with the wiggling bundle. Rowan stayed glued to her side. “We found these little guys stuck in a drain. They’re a few days old. They look really hungry and I’m sure they’d appreciate having some of your milk if you have time.” Nana hummed, looking past Skylar to the mewling skitty who wiggled and squirmed within their confines. Getting closer, nose twitching, she sniffed around the bundle. With a prod here and there of her snout, she examined them with steel-eyed focus. Then, with a satisfied sigh, she smiled and sat back on the hay, brandishing her belly. “Thank you,” Skylar said, “I owe you an extra ear of sweet corn.”

Skylar pulled the skitty closest to her out the bundle. Its wild hair stood out in nearly every direction, resembling a fluff ball with a mouth. It latched onto Nana’s nipple and drank away, little beads of white slipping out the cracks of its eager mouth.

The tiniest one was next. Rowan handled that one, holding it by the scruff between his teeth as he approached. The tiny skitty sniffed the air, searching for the nipple Rowan brought it to. It took a few gentle nudges for it to latch, suckling with tentative pulls until its ears started flapping in ecstasy. Rowan sat his haunches next to Nana, eyes trained solely on the little one, a vine rubbing at its back in small circles.

One skitty wiggled free itself, with puffs of hair expanding at the tips of its ears resembling pom-poms; they shook and swayed in celebration once it latched on, kneading Nana’s belly with its paws while it happily drank.

“They’re so sweet,” Bowie said with bated breath. Her eyes danced under the low lights, wide and full of wonder. Skewing her mouth to the side, it was followed with a frown. “I can’t believe someone would throw them away like that.”

“It happens,” Skylar uttered, keeping her eyes trained on Fluffball. Keeping her focus on the baby curbed her urge to punch something. Hurting herself wouldn’t do her any good, no matter how good it’d feel imagining it was the face of the irresponsible person who put the babies in this predicament. Even after all these years it still stung to see innocent pokémon be treated like this.

It wasn’t the worst Skylar had seen, but it hurt in a different way. There’d been plenty of guests—as they liked to refer to them—at the sanctuary over the last six years. Some abused, some neglected, some just looking for shelter and help; they tended to be older. It was the young ones, the babies, that added fuel to Skylar’s rage. Because of some people, some selfish, evil people, their futures, their lives, could be damaged, could be snuffed out just like that. Without having a chance. How was what fair?

Taking in a deep breath, she pushed down the indignation rising within her. That’s why she and her father did what they did, she had to remind herself. They provided second chances to their guests in need, whether that be living out the rest of their lives at the sanctuary or graduating on to find their forever homes. They gave them purpose, meaning, a chance. Everyone deserved one of those.

Disgruntled huffing broke Skylar’s trance and made her surroundings come slamming back into focus. The other miltank, a little larger than Nana and nimbler, had approached at some point. Her dark eyes flashed and a frown creased her brow while she waved her arms at Bowie. As her tail swished to and fro behind her, the miltank took a step to the side and stood between Bowie and Nana, arms extended.

“Hey—Mollie, be nice!” Skylar admonished. Mollie glanced at her, nostrils flaring. “You have to be patient with people.” A low growl rumbled in her throat and Skylar’s eyes narrowed. Since when did Mollie speak to her with that tone? Setting her jaw, she continued, “I understand that, but everyone has to start somewhere. It’s not fair to think that about her.”

“Think what?” Bowie asked.

“That you’re an idiot.” Bowie blinked and jerked her head back, as if she’d been slapped. Oops. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so blunt. It came with the territory; emotions had no place while on the clock. Thinking with her heart rather than her head would only cause problems. Being direct was the best way to present information and get the results needed for them to operate. Still, she probably should apologize. Right after she surgically removed her foot. “I-I mean...that’s not what I—”

“No, it’s okay. Gotta appreciate the girl’s honesty.” Bowie batted Skylar’s words away with a wave of her hand. Mollie’s head tilted, eyeing her through squinted eyes. Bowie stared right back, lifting her chin. Pressing her fingers to her throbbing temple, Skylar sighed. Couldn’t they have this standoff after they were all fed? Mollie knew better than to act like this, especially this early in the morning.

Then again, she wasn’t entirely wrong to be concerned. Mouth pulling into a frown, Skylar leaned forward, peering at the skitty by Nana’s remaining free nipple where Bowie held him. Tan stripes ran through the fur on its back, cutting through the sea of pink. It turned its head this way and that, sniffing, searching. Even as it butted its mouth against the pink bud its mouth didn’t open wide enough to fully grasp the nipple and pull milk in. A few creamy white drops sat just beneath its nose. Skylar’s breath hitched. Had those always been there?

Metal rattled and clanged, causing the two girls to jump. Not again! Getting to her feet, Skylar crossed the short distance to the stall across from Mollie and Nana’s. “Bucky! What have I told you about being patient?”

Bucky rammed his horns against the gate again, lifting his chin; his maroon eyes nearly glowed in the dark beneath his furrowed brow. If she’d been a gogoat herself, she had no doubt he’d challenge her to a fight. Her dad always claimed she was hardheaded, though something told her that her skull wouldn’t stand a chance against his horns. Skylar pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, then eyeing the clock on the wall. Eight to the hour. “I get it, but just because you’re ready to be up doesn’t mean you can wake everyone else. Ah—see! Look what you’ve done!”

Rustling leaves and clomping hooves grew louder as the innocuous pile in the corner wiggled and rose. A heard of skiddo bleated upon the sight of Bucky and Skylar by the gate, rushing over in one mass. Ears flapping, they bounced off their front hooves, undulating like a grassy green wave. All around them the grunts and sighs of waking guests grew in frequency. “You’re a bad influence,” Skylar said, tapping Bucky’s nose. He tossed his head, as if ridding himself of her touch and stomped at the ground. His bright blue mechanical leg tapped in rhythm, counting off the seconds. If the noise hadn’t woken everyone up before, this surely would. “Okay, okay, fine. I’ll get everyone up and you can stretch your legs and get something to eat. The volunteers should be here soon anyway. You win—this time.” She pointed fingers at her eyes and then directed the V at him. Bucky rolled his eyes and took two clopping steps to the side. She deserved that.

Once the gate opened, Bucky lead the charge out into the sunlight, the herd of skiddo following close in his wake, bouncing and trotting along. Skylar followed behind, opening the other pens along the way until she circled back to where the skitty continued their feeding. Rowan sat up on his hind legs, using the front legs to knead and push at Nana’s shoulders and upper back. Mollie hovered over Nana, arms crossed, chewing a loose piece of hay, keeping a close eye on the feeding. Bowie hadn’t moved from where she sat but a different skitty was clutched in her hands, trying to press its mouth against a nipple. This one had a tail so fluffy it looked like an open flower rather than a bulb.

“That one not feeding?” Skylar asked.

Bowie didn’t have to answer, Skylar already knew. This one fed worse than Tan Stripes. The hungry cries, scrambling paws, and milk beading around its nose and mouth were the telltale signs. It still made the usual clicking noises so its nursing instinct was intact, but its breathing was off, shallower and maybe a little raspy.

“Alright.” Skylar swallowed, steeled her nerves, and tried again. “Alright. Come on, we have to go to Intake.”

Intake was a converted mudroom. It was her mother’s idea; she insisted on it to keep visitors from using the front door and preventing them from winding down for the night. In their line of work, they needed some division between being on the job and having downtime. The little glimpses of it they could get, anyway.

Pushing out a long sigh, Skylar gathered up her black and blue dreads and fashioned them in a quick ponytail. She didn’t miss the way the skitty eyed her swinging locks from Bowie’s arms. Or, rather, from Bowie’s shirt. It’d clung to her, digging its claws in when they rushed out of the pen and into the side of the house. No matter how many times they tried to pry her off it held on tight, rubbing its face against Bowie’s collarbone. Neither had the heart to remove her after that. The other, Tan Stripes, lay curled in her lap.

Skylar moved around the room in a methodical fashion, opening and closing the various cabinet doors gathering supplies. She ticked off boxes in her mind as she went. Bottle, check. Various nipples, check. Heat disc, check. Blankets, check. Syringes, cotton balls, wash cloths, check, check, and check. Her eyes scanned the row of materials on the counter up and down and she nodded, satisfied. Then she pulled a clipboard off the wall where it hung in good company with others, one awash in neon sticky notes—reminding her she needed to get more bleach, shampoo, and oreos—one held firm to a thick stack of papers, and another holding a list of local phone numbers. The clipboard checklist was a formality at this point, but it didn’t hurt to double check.

“Are they going to be okay?” Bowie asked.

“They’ll be fine,” Skylar mumbled. Dragging a finger down the list, she swiftly etched check marks into the little boxes lining the page. “I think the nipples are just too big for their mouths. Or the milk is coming too fast. We’re going to bottle feed them instead.”

“You only tried one miltank.”

“Mollie doesn’t do the feeding. She doesn’t have the right temperament, to put it lightly.”

“I noticed.” A wry smile curled Bowie’s lips. “I don’t think she likes me much.”

“Don’t take it personally, she’s like that with everyone. She’s kind of bossy.” Skylar yanked open the mini fridge in the corner of the room and grabbed a glass bottle with a red cap at the front. It was one of the few. Her shoulders dropped at the sight. When did they get so low? They just did inventory count a week ago. She closed the door with a little more force than necessary, the glass jars rattling inside. Just another thing to add to the list.

She went through the steps preparing the bottles, warming up the milk, testing on her wrist, on autopilot. It’s been a while since they had babies so young, but their feedings were all the same.

Bowie watched her and listened when Skylar explained how to wrap up Tan Stripes and Bulb, how to keep their chins back and let them control how much milk they drank and at what speed. The nipples had to be swapped out twice for Bulb to start drinking but once they had the right fit, they were off to the races. Only then did Skylar’s lower her shoulders from her ears and relax against the wall she and Bowie sat against.

Bucky and the skiddos’ bleats floated in through the half-open dutch door. Somewhere further in the distance a whinny mixed in with their greetings. Birds cooed, the light wind danced through leaves and collided with wind chimes on the front deck, aiding in the slow wake of dawn.

“What is this place?” Bowie asked. Skylar looked at her out the side of her eye. “You mentioned something about volunteers. But you said this town doesn’t have a vet. Is this some kind of halfway house for pokémon? I saw the sign on the way in…”

Skylar’s mother had been so proud to hang that sign. She’d spent days sketching and painting it, carefully choosing the right font and the right colors to represent who they were and what they did. Arylide Town became the inspiration, how the town was bathed in golden light with every sunrise and how that light seemed to glow from the inside out from the residents of the community.

“Kind of.” She licked her lips and pushed the memories of her mom away. “We—me and my dad—we make ourselves available to pokémon in need. Most of them we’ve been alerted about abandonment or neglect by trainers—yeah, I know.” A burst of vindication grew in her at the disgust crawling across her face. “Others, like these babies, we find on our own and take in.”

“So you treat them and set them free?”

Skylar hummed. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On what they want.” Tan Stripes pawed at the bottle; she pulled it away from his mouth. “Some we can tell would work better in loving homes. We hold adoption events for them. Others we decided together that their lives would be better served living here until…until it’s time for them to go. And then there are some that make it known they want to go back into the wild or we know they’ll be better to go right back to their habitat where they’re more likely to thrive. It’s a case-by-case basis.”

“What about Mollie and Nana’s case?”

“Rescued from a farm in Johto. Their living conditions weren’t great. Someone tipped us off and we got to them before the place was shut down and they were slaughtered.”

She remembered the day they arrived. It took her dad two days to drive out and transport them back in the truck. Taking their first steps on the grounds, they were timid. Almost as if they were waiting for something to jump out at them and snatch them away. But the minute they realized how much space they had to run or lay in the sun, they transitioned seamlessly.

Until Bucky and Mollie met, anyway. The two got off on the wrong foot, or hooves as it were, and butted heads ever since. Sometimes quite literally. Mollie never backed down from a challenge, especially if Nana was involved.

Bowie bobbed her head, the information sinking in. “How come I’ve never heard of this place?”

Skylar shrugged. Admittedly their marketing and promotion could have been better but, well, it fell to the bottom of the never-ending list. Other priorities jumped to the top of the list. But word of mouth treated them fine and got them this far. “Well, we are a small town. We don’t get many visitors.” In fact, Bowie was the first one in a while.

The ones who found Arylide Town tended to blow through. Extended stays were a rarity. A bite to eat could be found at the bakery or the diner, where their food was either organic and locally sourced or brought in from the Kalos region, and those that chose to stay could find a bed at the lodging house at the south end of Main Street. Boutiques, specialty stores, the bakery, the butcher, the bookshop, a florist, the post office, and a general store made up most of the other shops, but they lacked the amusements of malls, movie theaters, or flashy niche restaurants.

With the draw of nearby cities—Pewter, Cerulean, Celadon, Saffron, and Viridian—Arylide Town didn’t stand a chance in attracting many visitors or trainers.

“Doesn’t it get lonely? Or quiet?”

Skylar gave her a pointed look. “Some of us prefer it that way.”

It rolled right off Bowie’s back. She cooed and gushed over Bulb releasing the bottle, peppering the space between its ears with a series of kisses. “I don’t know. I don’t think I could handle people leaving all the time.”

“You get used to it.” The bitter bite to Skylar’s words surprised even her as the fast flicker of irritation died within like a doused flame. Bowie’s lips parted, she sucked in a breath, and then closed it. Silence stretched between the two girls, allowing the pounding of Skylar’s heart to careen in her head as heat sunk into her cheeks. “Uh…” She needed to leave, now. Clearing her throat, she hopped to her feet and inserted Tan Stripes into the waiting incubator. “Do you think you can handle this? I want to check on my dad.”

“Mind giving me a hand?” A lone, brown arm stuck out from between the twisted mass of pillows and blankets. Long fingers, adorned in various silver rings, wiggled in the air. The sleek band caught the daybreak streaming in through the windows, turning the surface into a glittering constellation.

With a soft chuckle, Skylar grabbed the appendage tucked behind the door and held it out. “How about a leg?”

Lifting up, Zenith’s laughter came loud and sudden. It jerked Apollo out of his sleep where he lay half-curled, half-flopped on the other side of the full bed. Mimicking Zenith’s rousing, the arcanine pushed up on his forelegs, his tongue lolling out like an unfurled rug beneath the force of his yawn.

His hot morning breath caught Skylar’s face when she approached, and she waved the humid fumes from her nose. Still, even with that unwanted assault, she had scratches waiting for him. “Mornin’ boy.” Her hands disappeared into his thick fur, coming into contact with the heat trapped near his skin. Palm pressed against his side, she counted out his heartbeats and gauged his temperature off her hand. A touch cooler than yesterday but nothing to worry about. Still, she shifted her hand to a different spot for comparison, only to curl her hand into prime scratching position at his impatient whine. A sheepish smile bloomed and she raked her nails across his smooth skin. “Sorry to make you wait.” Habits die hard.

“You’re up early,” Zenith commented. Now fully upright, he reached into the top drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a sock. Its surface was pocked and marred with singe marks. Apollo yipped and leaned forward, taking the socks from Zenith’s hand, curling up with it dangling out his mouth. All the toys at his disposal and Apollo still insisted on chewing their socks. He was still a little growlithe inside, it seemed.

“Had to run an errand,” she said. Zenith hummed and grabbed another sock, the right sock this time, along with a suppression sleeve, extending his leg which ended in a stump by his knee. The scarred tissue at the end didn’t appear too inflamed today. That was a good sign. “I tried calling you.”

“Did you?” His words, mumbled and distracted, fell into his lap.

“Yeah, a couple times. You didn’t answer.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.” He shrugged. “Guess I didn’t hear it.”

Her eyebrows collided. He always had his pokégear on him. Always. Her eyes darted around the scarcely decorated room. Save for the large bed, the tables flanking both sides, the mirror across the way with ornate ocean waves and magikarp carved into the frame, and the bay windows taking up one whole wall, his room sat empty. Their voices alone echoed back in soft whispers around the space. How could he not hear it?

“Oh! Here it is—get off boy!” Zenith pushed at Apollo’s side while retrieving one arm from beneath him. Letting out an ecstatic shout, he wiggled it in Skylar’s face as if showing it off. Huffing at being pushed away, Apollo slid off the bed, landing with a thud so heavy the windows rattled. Undeterred, he grasped his prized sock and shuffled out the room, his long forelegs working to drag his languid hindlegs behind him.

Apollo, back when he was a little growlithe, had been hit by a car one night. Zenith came across him in the aftermath, lying in the middle of the street. He was the only one to stop and help. Despite getting him to the nearest Pokemon Center to be healed, there wasn’t enough Paralyze Heal in the world to fix the damage to Apollo’s spine.

“Shit. You did call a few times. Oops.” His thumbs shifted over the screen; Skylar saw her face sliding by with every call log he passed. A young version of her face anyway, with a big smile and bright blue eyes clutching a long gyrados plushie. It’d been a sixth birthday gift from her cousin. Ten years had gone so fast. “Was it an emergency?”

“Kind of.”

He fastened his short dark dreadlocks into a ponytail, revealing the closely shaved hair underneath. “Well, I think we’ll be fine without the cake but—"

She nearly groaned. His mind was always in the same place: his stomach. “No, not that.” Zenith jerked away, dodging her flying locks with every turn of her head. “Found some skitty stuck in a storm drain. I didn’t have the supplies needed to get them out.” She hesitated, biting her lip, scrunching up her nose, and added, “I needed your help.”

God, she hated how small she sounded. So unsure. So…childlike. Always having to run to her daddy for help. At least he had the decency to look ashamed. His lackadaisical responses tugged her frown low and plucked at her nerves. She pressed each knuckle on her finger in turn, each one eliciting a satisfying pop beneath her slow breaths. In for four, hold for five, out for six.

“Did you try Phin?"

She nodded. “That was my first thought.” As she explained the tale to him, he adjusted the sleeve and went through the rest of the process to put on his leg, humming and bobbing his head every now and then. She eyed him closely while speaking. What was going through his mind? What did he think about her choices? His face didn’t give anything away, no reactions to her process, no frustration at the slight snag of applying his leg, and certainly no way to tell one or another if she did the right thing. Or if he approved. He usually was such a morning person.

“So you brought home a stray?” Zenith poked his head out the closet, arms already halfway into a red plaid shirt. The hem was so frayed and threadbare, she could almost see through it.

She balked. That was the only thing he could come up with? And since when did he call their guests by that name? “I wouldn’t call them that…”

Lines dug deep grooves into his skin at the corners of his eyes. “I meant the girl.” The fabric rippled as he hefted the shirt up with a shrug of his shoulders. His feet padded against the ground, poking out from beneath the hems of his jeans, faded with time. Faint splotches of mud long since washed away encircled the knees. “What’d you say her name was? Bowie?” She nodded. “Interesting choice. Where are they now?”

“Some of them are with Nana and Bowie’s bottle feeding the other two.”

“Incubator?”

“Up and running. I already have it prepared for them to sleep in until they get big enough to be moved.”

“Have they been processed?” He dragged a hand across his face, pulling down to stroke the hair on his chin.

“Not yet. I know, I’m supposed to do that first, but I wanted them to be fed. It won’t take me too long to get it done. The volunteers will be here soon anyway; one of them could get to it if necessary.”

His storm-gray eyes lifted to the windows carving small scenes of the world outside into the wall. Crossing his arms, his neck bobbed in a thick swallow. “Was I asleep that long?” His question came out a scratched whisper.

“Looks like it.” She hesitated and then moved forward with her question. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just…needed some extra Zs I guess.” It took a second to tear his eyes away from the window. When he did, the faraway look settling in had become replaced with soft remorse. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer your call. You handled everything just fine.”

Her nose wrinkled. Just fine. That’s what he always said. She didn’t want to do ‘fine’, she wanted to do well. She wanted to be perfect. She wanted him to know he could count on her to run things, to take more responsibility. They were partners, after all. Was that so hard?

His head tilted and his eyes raked across her face. She cast her eyes downward, staring hard at her lap. “What’s up?”

Little pinpricks tickled her nose. “I thought something happened to you, Dad,” she mumbled.

“Don’t worry about me honey. I’m fine. I was just tired.”

“The last time you didn’t answer the phone…you almost didn’t come home.”

Cupping her cheek, he rubbed soothing circles on her skin with his thumb. The pad was rough with a callous. “Honey”—he lifted her chin—"it’ll take a whole stampede of tauros to keep me from coming home.”

“I’m sure Mufasa thought the same thing and look what happened to him.”

Chuckling, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Lucky for me, your uncle and I get along fine.” His grin came back in full force, eyes dancing. Speaking of which, we should be getting a fish delivery by the end of today.”

“At least we won’t be low on that for a while.” She explained their low inventory count while he stomped his feet into his boots by the door.

“It’s always something isn’t it?” Even with his resigned sigh the smile didn’t shake loose from his face. Grasping her hands, he hefted her up to her feet.

She looped an arm around his waist and squeezed into his side. He smelled of bergamot and citrus. He smelled like home. “It’s what we signed up for.”

“Best job in the world.” His words rumbled in his chest as he spoke, vibrating straight down to her bones. Shaking loose her worries, settling her resolve back into place.

“Best job in the world,” she repeated, meaning every word.

Apollo jumped to his feet the minute they left the room, pacing around in an energetic circle. His dragging legs didn’t slow him down. Zenith rubbed a hand over his head, curling upwards over his jagged left ear, rubbing his thumb along the back of the velvety smooth skin. “C’mon boy, I’ll get your wheels. It’s time to open up shop!”

The volunteers arrived at staggered times, some with bright faces, ready for the assignments. Others seemingly carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders.

Zelus, Zeniths’ machoke, greeted them all in turn with a large tray teeming with piping hot cups of coffee and various pastries, fruits, and breakfast burritos. He basked in their appreciation of his new apron, decorated with mint green gingham. Grasping the hem, he turned this way and that, putting on a show. He spun around on one foot, nearly tripping over himself and sending the tray flying.

The volunteers ducked for cover, shrieking and laughing, while Zenith hastily took the tray away from him and Skylar doled out apologies. Mr. Holloway, who always sat at the end of the long table hidden behind a wall of newspaper, remained unfazed at the commotion. At least nothing caught on fire this time.

Skylar started the meeting, greeting everyone and thanking everyone for their hard work the week before. She caught some of them up on the events that transpired, what their goals were for that week, and reminded them of some of the tours lined up. Once everyone looked as if the coffee, or juice for the younger ones, had woken them up, she got right to business with assignments.

“We need the stalls mucked, raked, and turned over as usual. I’ll need at least three people on that today.” Hands went up and she jotted them down on a clipboard. They found it easier to let them choose their placements to field off arguments. Within reason. Happy volunteers equaled quality work.

She went down the list, offering duties left and right, jotting down those who secured certain spots. She put herself and her father down for their respective jobs, answering the phone and returning calls, answering emails, administrating certain medicines, and the paperwork.

“Moving on to Dasher. Her flame has cooled down so she’s on track to foaling in a couple weeks.” Dasher was a rapidash they rescued from an abandoned farm. The last of three; they didn’t make it in time to save her brothers, Comet and Blitzen. She brought a baby along with her, unbeknownst to them until she went through intake. She was due to give birth in a couple weeks. “We’ll need someone to turn her out and make sure she doesn’t over do it.”

“I’ll help the baby!” Dougie, a boy of nine with a lopsided smile, thrust his arm into the air.

“Great. Dougie’s on Dasher duty.”

His round, flat face lit up as his rosebud lips pulled back into a beaming grin, almond eyes shining. “I’ll help the baby,” he repeated, with a proud nod.

“And, finally, we have some new guests with us. Skitty are now in our care. They’re very young—” Mr. Holloway’s chair squeaked against the ground when he stood and stiffly walked out the room, newspaper tucked beneath his arm—"so they will be on a tight schedule every two hours; that’s waking to feed and be weighed. Of course, my dad and I will be handling the overnights, but we need a rotation for the others. To keep from arguments, we’ll have a sign-up sheet at Intake. One slot per person. Two people at a time. Don’t worry, everyone will get a chance to cuddle them. If you don’t know proper feeding techniques, come find me or my dad and we’ll lend a hand or talk you through it.”

Everyone dispersed after that, talking to one another while gathering the remaining untouched parts of their breakfast. Zelus rushed in behind them, scooping the leftover trash in his large arms to hurry back into the kitchen.

“We’re going to have to prepare some posts announcing the skitty,” Zenith said once they were alone in the dining room. “And get another adoption event on deck once they hit their growth targets. They’ll be popular.”

Skylar groaned. Adoption events were beneficial in the long run but more went into it than people thought. And this was without ruminating on the very real possibility that either no one would show up, or the graduates would be sent back due to various “unforeseen circumstances”. They’d been through it all, from a mismatched personality to the graduate “not being cute anymore” and everything in between. While, on one hand, it was nice to see them again, the reasons for it weren’t always the best. Reunions were bittersweet, to say the least.

“Which means we’ll need to get supplies, decorations, permits, pick a date, and run some promotion. We’ll have to do a massive overhaul of the site to handle traffic. Maybe bring back the newsletter.” That didn’t include taking photos of the newcomers and lining up sponsors. Some things had slipped through the cracks in the past couple of months.

“I can do that!”

What the…? Skylar glanced over her shoulder, nearly jumping at the sight of Bowie. What were they doing here? Didn’t they leave? Skylar supposed she should have double-checked after rousing her dad, but, well, the unprofessionalism she’d shown kept herself from heading in that direction. Besides, the girl had been heading somewhere when their paths crossed, surely, she would’ve gone on her way by now. Apparently not because there she stood, waving her hand in the air like a child in a classroom. Rowan’s leaves rustled and swayed, adding to the sight.

“Huh!?” was all she managed to utter.

“I can do that,” Bowie repeated, “I can help.”

“…You’re not leaving?” Skylar wouldn’t have room to eat anything later with how many of her feet she’d been eating today. “I-I mean, you probably have some other plans or…something?” Anything.

“Me and Rowan got nowhere to be. Right boy?” Rowan’s raspy vocalizing sounded affirmative. Bowie flashed a thumbs up at him. “See, he agrees! We’d love to help! Just tell us where you need us, Coach!”

Skylar’s mouth opened and closed a few times until she snapped her jaw shut. What could she do? They weren’t exactly a fast-moving place, delicacy and patience were paramount and Bowie catapulted herself into places like a tauros in a china shop.

But they needed all the help they could get; turning her away when she was effectively volunteering her time would be crazy. Especially when she seemed so eager. And she had, somehow, been in the right place at the right time when she needed a hand earlier…

Who was she kidding? She could put together marketing and promotion campaigns to get the job done but they needed a wider reach. She dragged her hand over her hair, letting her locks slip through her fingers. Don’t make me regret this. “Um…I guess you could help with that. If you’d like…”

“Awesome!” Bowie hopped, becoming a human exclamation point. “This is gonna be so great! There’re a few different social media campaigns you can run that’ll get you a lot of clicks. Don’t worry! We’ll find the right homes for those babies, you’ll see!”

Zenith popped a grape into his mouth; it snapped with a loud crunch between his teeth. “Where’d you find this girl again?”

Resigned, Skylar crossed her arms. “…She found me.”

Chapter Text

THREE | Of Trust and Poké Puffs

Oddish cooed and trilled as water droplets rolled down its lush green leaves, wetting the top of its round head. It jumped and stomped and splashed in the water collecting by its feet, leaves waving to and fro in merriment.

Chuckling, Skylar set down the watering can, shaped like a horsea’s head, and rubbed a hand over Oddish’s leaves. Thick and strong, they weren’t nearly as dreary as they were a few days ago. “From all that jumping I’d say you’re feeling better.” Oddish cooed again, bouncing from side to side. Ripples rolled out from beneath its feet, crashing against the walls of the basin it stood in. Its big smile squeezed at Skylar’s heart. “I’d like to examine your leaves just in case. Is that alright with you?”

It nodded and sat down with a plop. Skylar carefully parted its leaves, looking from tip to stump for any signs of the previous spotting and discoloration.

This oddish and a couple others had appeared on their property, weakened and with leaves mottled with large brown spots. She immediately recognized it as a common fungus. Whether they’d belonged to a trainer or were wild, it was clear as day they hadn’t had good soil to sit in.

The leaves slipped between her hands, cool and smooth. A good coating of wax kept them strong and allowed the vibrant verdant to shine though. The stalks held firm and the veins looked healthy. “Looks like everything checks out. Congratulations, Oddish, you got a clean bill of health!” She let out a soft giggle when Oddish nuzzled against her cheek. “Aww, you’re very welcome. I’m just going to give you one more tablet to be safe, but you should be good to go!”

Oddish went back to splashing in the water and Skylar rummaged through the medicine cabinet, moving past various potions of scaling strengths, energy root, treats and berries, and different colored powder in glass vials. The pill container rattled in her hand, and she dumped out a light green circular tablet with a cut down the middle.

On approach, Oddish tilted its head back and opened its mouth wide. “Okay, lift your tongue.” Oddish did as it was told and Skylar deposited the pill on the underside of the muscle. Oddish snapped its mouth shut and swayed from side to side, smiling wide. “Well, someone’s ready to feel better.” She stroked Oddish’s cheek. “Just remember, when you go home, to tell everyone about us. So that anyone who needs help can come to us. Okay?”

A phone rang nearby. It wiggled and rocked in its cradle against the wall. Skylar, reluctantly, moved away from Oddish and grabbed the phone. Her thumbnail settled into the groove set into the faded answer button.

“Sunrise Sanctuary, this is Skylar.”

Okay, back to work. Pressing the phone against her ear with her shoulder, Skylar grabbed a nearby clipboard, eyes scanning over Oddish’s information from the last few days. All she had to do now was the last few checkups and it could be discharged.

“Hi darling! It’s Sylvie from down the street.” She didn’t need to announce herself; Skylar recognized the lilting voice of her nearest neighbor. She always sounded as if she were seconds away from breaking into song. Being a performer from back in the day didn’t seem to leave the older woman. “Do you have a spare second, my dear?”

“Sure, Miss Sylvie. What can I do for you?”

“It’s about Fiona.” Skylar nodded. She’d come across the furret in question a few times. It wasn’t unusual for her to wander away from Sylvie’s home and be found sunbathing on their porch railing. “It seems she’s been having a go at our yard lately.”

“I see.” Skylar lifted Oddish out of the tub with a damp and spotted towel, rubbing at its feet. It giggled and wiggled in her grasp.

“Every time Grant has filled a hole, others have cropped up.” Grant, her husband, was a silent man who had an affinity for landscaping and architecture. They’ve consulted him a few times over the years for his work. Skylar had never heard him utter a word and yet, somehow, they’d been married for over forty years. “We’re just at our wit’s end. We don’t know what could have brought this on. She’s always been so well behaved before…”

“Sounds like she’s bored. Furret need a lot of enrichment.” Oddish stood still once placed upon a scale. Skylar took its weight measurement down with quick scribbles. “They like tunnelling…. Do you still have that kiddie pool?”

“Yes, yes. We don’t use it much now, of course…” Their kids, long grown and gone, would bring their own children back to Arylide Town to visit during the summers. But now that they’d grown older and started to take their own paths, the visits had become sporadic.

“Good. Fill that with some of those plastic balls you’d find in a ball pit.” Whipping out a tape measure, Skylar noted the lengths of Oddish’s leaves. “Fiona will have a lot of fun digging around. And if she grows tired of that, you can create obstacle courses with some items you have lying around. Do you have any unused boxes?”

“Yes, yes! We have a lot! Grant always complains about my ordering, you see, but it all benefits him! These beauty trends have kept me the same woman he was so besotted by years ago.” Skylar could almost see her lovingly patting the bun affixed to the back of her head. “Ha! He’ll finally see all the creams and serums were worth it!”

Skylar pressed on. “If all else fails, a companion would be a good option.”

“Oh, that all sounds great! I’m sure Grant would love to come up with something for Fiona. You know how he just loves to tinker around! He’s always been good with his hands, you see.” Her tinkling giggle made Skylar close her eyes in a long blink. Maybe if she squeezed hard enough, she could dislodge the terrible mental image her brain conjured up.

“Well, if that’s all you need—"

“But getting Fiona a friend sounds nice as well,” Sylvie continued. “We could all use more friends. Life would be a dreadfully lonesome existence otherwise, no? I couldn’t imagine not having my Fiona around. By the by, how is your father doing, darling?” Skylar stilled. The meowth clock on the wall ticked along; its eyes and tail swished back and forth. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. “Alone in such a large house…. Well, of course he’s not completely alone, he has you. But you aren’t exactly your mother—”

“Miss Sylvie, I have to go now.” Skylar kept her words pleasant while they squeezed through her tight throat. “I have others that need my attention.”

“Yes dear, of course. You’re doing amazing work! You and your father both! Try to get him out of the house sometime, the world needs to see that handsome face of his. I, for one, would not complain—”

“Please let me know if you need any help in the future.” Plastic crackled and popped in Skylar’s hand.

“Of course! Of course! Thank you so much, darling. Do be a dear and have him stop by for a spot of tea. It would be nice to have conversation occasionally.”

Why couldn’t she take a hint? “I will Ms. Sylvie, thank you.”

“Your mother may have forgotten what a man he is, but others certainly have not.”

“Thank you for calling, Miss Sylive. Goodbye.” She shoved the phone back onto its cradle with a little extra force and made a face at it. Nosey witch. She had no right to say that about her mother. Even if it was true. The thought slammed into her brain before she could stop it. She frowned and then pushed it away. That wasn’t her problem.

Turning back to Oddish, Skylar grabbed the clipboard and scratched a few checkmarks in empty boxes. “Alright, where were we?”

The phone rang again. She made sure to take a deep, calming breath before answering. Whoever was on the other end didn’t deserve the remnants of her exasperation.

“This is Skylar.”

“Oh, Skylar, I was hoping to catch you! Listen, you know about Henry.” Skylar nodded even though the woman on the line couldn’t see her. She knew all about Henry. “He’s been to therapy and there has been growth but he’s getting frustrated. There’s not enough people around to speak with him.” Henry was the shy son of the post master and also selectively mute. He chose to speak with KSL—Kantonian Sign Language—and, unfortunately, not many people around town knew how to sign. “His father and I thought about getting him a pokémon to ease his anxiety and allow him to have someone around to speak with when we can’t be there. Do you have any ideas?”

A rolodex flipped by in her mind, narrowing down beneficial choices through the parameters until she landed on one. “A Mr. Mime could suit him well. Anything in the psychic type class, really, but Mr. Mime could use KSL with him as well as utilize his psychic abilities to sense if Henry’s getting frustrated and ready to shut down sooner. But if you’re concerned about his size, start off with a Mime Jr. An Abra could be a good option too.”

“Mr. Mime. …Yes, that sounds perfect! Thank you, thank you so much!”

“Of course. Have a good day, ma’am.”

She’d barely hung up the phone when it rang again, making her brace her hands against the side of the table and hang her head. After a couple seconds, she stood tall, straightened her back, and called out for one of the volunteers to answer the phone and take messages.

It was a good problem to have, the phones ringing off the hook for their advice and guidance. But that one-on-one time she could get with their guests was her favorite part of the day. She wouldn’t change it for anything.

“Thanks for being so patient,” she said to Oddish. “Let’s get you finished and on your way.” The rest of the appointment went smoothly. Oddish hit all its discharge milestones and had a clean bill of health. “Well, Oddish looks like you’re ready to go.” Reaching to the side, she pushed away the bittersweet pool rolling in her stomach and picked up a nearby camera. Its weight sat comfortably in her palm, and she let her wrist fall back in her normal cradle. “But let’s take a picture first. I don’t want to forget that big, beautiful smile.”

Apollo sprinted along the lush green grasses, though Skylar would liken it to flying. Maybe even levitating. His front paws barely touched the ground on each extension before he took off again. The wheels on his chair spun so fast, it would come to no surprise if sparks cast off behind him or they left burnt tire tracks in his wake.

Wind tugged and flattened his thick fur. Tiny pricks of gleaming glitter nestled in the corners of his eyes and his lips pulled back into a giddy gin. His large, pink tongue lolled out and Dasher galloped next to him, keeping the pace. Small embers shook off their manes, gleaming fireflies against the thick surrounding flora. They bobbed and weaved in sync, as if knowing the space the other would occupy before they moved. Dasher’s elegant strides next to Apollo’s raw power looked as if they were performing a dance rather than getting a bit of exercise in.

Against the backdrop of the setting sun, the two set the world on fire.

“That’d win some points,” Skylar murmured, her eyes following the two fire types as they continued their path along the sanctuary’s perimeter.

Not only was Apollo showing off his sheer speed but his agility as well. A large and fast creature like him being able to stop and turn on a dime? If he were in a contest that’d give him at least three bonus appeal points. And Dasher’s elegance would lend well to a well-timed Flame Charge. While it wouldn’t score high points on its own, that ability paired with Dasher’s glossy coat would certainly be a feast for the eyes and enthrall the audience. Coordinators couldn’t forget about them; sometimes the audience reactions were considered too.

Bracing her bare foot against the porch railing, she extended her leg, pushing the rocking chair back on its feet. She picked up her camera and swiftly brought it up to her eye, twisting the lens this way and that while waiting for Apollo and Dasher to appear. She didn’t use burst mode much, but it certainly came in handy when needing to get a good shot of a wiggling or sprinting pokémon.

Her breath stilled, her shoulders lifted, and she tensed her muscles, waiting. Bucky and the herd of skiddo lazily took their last graze near the pond. Nana and Mollie lay on their backs smack dab in the middle of the pasture, basking in the remains of the once bright and sunny day. The chimeco attached to the underside of the covered porch emitted delicate, tinkling chimes as they swayed on the light breeze. Skylar’s finger tensed on the shutter. Any second now…

Her finger twitched, the shutter snapped, and the screen pulsed in bright white light, taking picture after picture when the two pokémon crossed her line of vision. Leaning back, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, Skylar glanced at the LCD display and toggled through the pictures. Apollo and Dasher ran in slow motion as she scrolled, their legs cycling through a galloping gait. When she zoomed in, she spotted little gleaming fireflies dotting the image.

Perfect!

The railing beneath her foot shimmied as Delta leapt onto it, taking one graceful step in front of the other, like a trapeze artist walking along a tightrope. The stretches of impending night clawing across the sky reflected on her tail, an ebbing crimson wave.

Pokémon were so beautiful.

“What do you think, Delta?” Skylar turned the camera around. Delta’s eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, turning her head this way and that while peering at the screen. Settling back against the railing, she tapped her split tail against the wood. GD. GD. Good.

“You really think it’s good?” Delta rolled her eyes and tapped again. “I’m not doubting you. It’s just, well…” The longer she looked at them, the more mistakes jumped out at her. She could’ve had more light come in to accentuate the trailing embers. And Apollo and Dasher could be in the frame a little bit more. Then there were the balance issues and, man, she really should’ve kept a close eye on the edging. She used to rely on grid lines for element balancing but took it off. She didn’t want to lean too heavily on it but maybe she shouldn’t have been in such a rush….

Mouth twisting to the side, she set the camera back down. No need to get caught up in that again. It was just a picture.

Unfurling, she stood and stretched her arms upward. She groaned at the pull in the muscles in her back, rocking up onto the balls of her feet. Her breath rushed out in a quick, satisfied sigh, Releasing, she leaned against the railing, scratching behind Delta’s head in the crook where her neck met her fin. Crickets chirped and clicked in the cover of the growing shadows of the bushes and plants, fireflies zipped to and fro in the air, the faint hoot of a noctowl punched through the lapping water of the pond in the distance.

Dasher’s flame cast a flickering glow against the wood of her stall as she broke off her run and approached her home. Apollo continued to run, turning large circles around Bucky and the skiddo, herding them into a bunch to head back into the barn. Bucky stomped his prosthetic against the ground a few times, tossing his head. Apollo bound up to him, dragged his large tongue against his cheek and nudged him with his nuzzle. Bucky huffed a breath and wheeled around to the barn with a roll of his eyes. The skiddo followed suit, happily bouncing and prancing on their way into the barn. Bucky stood by the door, waiting stock still until all the skiddo, Mollie, and Nana had been ushered in, then he followed suit.

It was quitting time. The volunteers had come back up to the house, one by one, singing out and sharing information about their day and gushing over the guests they worked with. Each one with rounded shoulders and dirtied clothes but with a light in their eye. Dougie and his mom skipped, hand in hand, back to their car, Dougie raving over how well he took care of Dasher and the baby. All that was left was for Skylar and Zenith to do was last minute rounds and then they could wind down.

“You coming in?” Skylar called out to Zenith who walked at a leisurely pace up toward the house, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Zenith directed a sharp whistle at Apollo. His ears twitched, he nudged the barn down closed with his snout, and ran to catch up to Zenith. It took all of three seconds.

“I’m just gonna brush Apollo down first,” Zenith said. Lines crinkled in the corners of his eyes at his soft chuckle when Apollo bumped against his side. He patted Apollo’s flank. Loose threads of hair pulled off him and danced in the air. “Have Zelus hold my dinner.”

Skylar nodded. “I’ll get the bed set up for Intake.”

He shook his head. “I’ll take the overnight.”

“Dad—”

“You’ve been staying up too late.” She started to protest but it died on her tongue when he lifted a solitary eyebrow and set his jaw. Try me, his face said. She pressed her lips together. “You need your sleep.”

“What about you?”

“I can handle it.” He shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time I had interrupted sleep.”

“That was six months ago.” They were suddenly given a littler of lillipups to care for before they were sent to a schooling facility to become tracking dogs. They weren’t known to yelp or make too much noise, which became a problem when they found a way to get out of Intake and roamed the house, biting and scratching anything they became curious about. Sleep took a backseat until they were transferred.

Zenith chuckled. “I meant when you were a baby.” Resting against the railing, he reached up and stroked her cheek with his thumb. She pressed her cheek into his palm. “You didn’t want to sleep. You were always awake, always alert, watching everything. It was a miracle if we got you down for five hours.”

“Which should tell you that I get enough sleep.”

“It tells me I need to set a better example. Besides, I need to make up for this morning.” Drawing his hand to the back of her neck, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her eyes closed at his touch. “You had a busy morning. Relax. They’ll still be there tomorrow.”

If we’re lucky. She didn’t voice her realistic fleeting thought. They both knew how fast things could turn within the hour. Five skitty could become three or zero if the scales tipped the wrong way. That’s life; it tended to make choices without rhyme or reason.

“If anything happens—”

“I’ll wake you. I promise.” Zenith held up a peace sign and then closed the two fingers together, tipping them to the corner of his eye in a well-practiced salute.

Extending her elbow, Delta leapt off the railing and walked up her arm, sitting tall on her shoulder. She’d let him go, for now. “I need to give Delta her drops anyway.” Delta hissed at that, back arching, and leapt off to race into the house. “Don’t even try to hide! You’ll get those drops one way or the other!” Skylar called after her.

“Wow. With that force, you almost make me want to take my medicine.”

What the—? Skylar and Zenith both whipped their heads around at Bowie’s comment as she approached the house, taking long strides up the slope. Rowan trotted up behind him, sparkling flecks of sun dancing around his open bulb.

Skylar gaped at the sight of her: hair disheveled and popping out her braids, dirt and grass smudged against her clothes and skin, but still with a smile on her face. She thought all the volunteers had left for the day. Where had she been the whole time?

“What happened to you?” Skylar uttered.

“Hmm?” Bowie glanced at her arms and then at her shirt and hummed as if seeing the mess for the first time. “Oh, well, first I went to clean some of the skiddo. They really like the mud, huh? Bucky wasn’t having it though. And after that I helped some of the others with cleaning the stalls. That is a lot of shit. Like a lot! It was an actual load of shit…” Bowie’s eyes drifted off somewhere, as if reliving the horror. She blinked and shook her head. “So then I figured I could help out with the laundry and the bedding. I’m really good at that, you know! I help Grams with it all the time! I can fold a mean sheet! Except the fitted ones. I don’t know why those exist. Except to torture me. So I was carrying those from the barn thing to the house and Mollie was practicing her rollouts and decided to use me for target practice.” Zenith snorted, the sound shifting over to a stifled cough. “And I rolled down the hill.”

Skylar’s lips twitched and she reassembled her face when Zenith gave her a look. Of course, she was glad Bowie was okay but the image…

“I’ll talk to Mollie about it,” Zenith said.

“Don’t worry. I can handle her.” Bowie waved his words away.

“Yeah, but if she’s making you roll down the hill to get out of her way—”

“Oh, no. I rolled down the hill!” Skylar must’ve done a bad job hiding the bewilderment because Bowie added with near breathless exhilaration, “It was a good hill! Haven’t seen any one better. It was asking to be rolled. Got kinda dizzy at the end but what a rush! Haven’t rolled a good hill like that in a long time!” Bowie stood proud and triumphant, hands on her hips and an unwavering smile on her face. “You should try it sometime! It’s not just for kids!”

Skylar and Zenith exchanged a look. This girl was…something. How did she manage to still have all that energy? The hard work around the sanctuary tended to have even the strongest ones nearly collapsing with relief by the time lunch came around. But not her. Zenith, she surmised, thought something similar if the smirk on his face was of any indication. “Anyway…” Skylar cleared her throat. “I’m sure you’re ready to head home. Or whatever it was you here heading.”

Bowie shrugged. “I’m in no rush. Besides, I told you I’d help with the social media stuff.”

“Oh, I’m sure that can wait a day.”

“You think?” Bowie’s head tilted. “I mean, the more eyes see what you’re doing the more help you’d get sooner, right?” Her voice was kind though something about it rankled Skylar. She crossed her arms, widened her stance, grounded herself. “I’m sure once you slap those skitty babies up, donations and interest will come pouring in.”

“She has a point,” Zenith said after a beat when Skylar glanced at him for help. He shrugged “No one can resist the cute factor.” He pointed at Apollo to prove his point. Apollo ran and jumped around the yard, nipping at the glimpses of fireflies dancing around.

“I just…don’t want to keep you,” Skylar said.

“Like I said, me and Rowan got nowhere to be.” Rowan nodded, brushing up against Bowie’s leg, wearing a large smile. It was nearly identical to Bowie’s.

Skylar clicked her tongue. So you said. But she’d been on her way somewhere, or else she wouldn’t have a bike to take her or a bag that’d seen better days in the basket. Last she saw they both still sat in the back of the truck, untouched. “You don’t have a room?"

The lone lodging in town sat between the post office and the general store. Most of year the rooms had low turnover, but summer was coming and along the horizon, the Sunrise Jubilation came with it, Arylide’s biggest festival and claim to fame. Held on the night of the summer solstice, the shops closed at dusk for everyone to pour into the streets to dance, eat, light off fireworks, and enjoy one another’s company all night so they could watch the sunrise together. It was a popular draw, the rooms filled fast due to being booked in advance.

“Don’t really need one. I got a tent. Ro and I don’t mind the outdoors.” Turning to Zenith, Bowie continued. “Which I was going to ask, mind if I set up camp under your deck? That way we can already be here bright and early to help out tomorrow.”

Zenith gave her a look, face twisting almost as if he were offended at the question. “You’re not going to sleep under the deck when there’s a good house right here.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the Victorian farmhouse behind him.

“We don’t have the space,” Skylar reminded him. Once upon a time Sunrise Sanctuary was going to double as rescue and a bed and breakfast. Anyone that came by could trade volunteer services for a bed and a homecooked meal. Those plans fell by the wayside as funds dried. All the rooms that were to be used to house visitors ended up being filled with junk, forgotten items, and donations that needed to he weeded and sorted.

“You do,” Zenith said. Skylar made a noise of confusion. “Up in that turret,” he said, as if needing to remind her where her room was. She balked. Perhaps she did have the space, physically, but it was her space. She had everything set the way she wanted it. The only time she’d shared it was when her cousin came to visit. And the last visit was nearly five years ago. Zenith turned back to Bowie. “You can rest, grab a shower, and have Zelus prepare you some dinner. It’s the least we can do to thank you for your hard work.” He took a few steps away only to stop and turn back. “Do you like chili?”

“Love it!”

He eyed her. “Zelus uses a lot of cheri berries.”

“The spicier the better!”

Zenith nodded, avoiding the particularly hard stare Skylar shot his way. “Then it’s settled.” Skylar’s head dropped backward, tilting her exasperated gaze to the ceiling. What was the point of trying to silently communicate with your parents when they didn’t catch the hint?

“Ooh, yay!” Bowie bounced on her toes and clasped her hands. Rowan bounced on his front feet, long vines waving in the air as if in celebration. “It’ll be like a sleepover!”

“So, are you guys breeders?”

Skylar flinched, jerking her head away from Bowie to keep from being hit by a braid. Cheri chili sloshed over the rim, sliding down her hand. Grunting, she licked the dribbling trail and brushed a couple drops off the front of her t-shirt. It depicted two smiling cherrim attached to one another by a cherry stem, a large leaf hanging between them. Bowie went with an all-pink matching clefable set; the top had its wings on its back and the bottoms had its tail on the backside. They were cute.

“No,” Skylar replied simply. They got that question all the time. While breeding was a track she had some interest in as a kid, she didn’t have the time nor the space to properly pursue it. Even then, she wouldn’t know which pokémon to start with when it came to breeding. The possibilities were endless. The traditional Kanto starters would be a safe bet, but she knew Professor Oak already had a few breeders on standby for that.

Shrugging, Bowie turned back to the screen. She’d scrolled through their website with a quick curling finger on the mouse wheel, making small undecipherable noises every now and then. Gripping her spoon in a fist, Bowie shoved a heaping amount of chili into her mouth. The silver clinked against her teeth. “Okay.” Bowie smacked her lips, dragged the back of her hand across her mouth, and set the bowl on the desk. She pushed aside a red, blue, and green pen lined up side-by-side on the tabletop to make space. “Here’s the thing. Your site is bare bones. It gives out information but it’s missing the warmth behind the words. It’s all clinical. Where’s the fun? The pizazz?”

Skylar snorted. “There’s not a lot of pizazz in this line of work.”

“Maybe, but people are more inclined to help when things are given to them in a way that they have no choice but to want to help. Look here.” Bowie jabbed at the screen. A greasy fingertip was left behind.

Skylar did her best to ignore it as she looked past her finger to read the donation blurb on their site. As she read it, the words came back to her in a rush. She remembered when she wrote them when the site first went live a couple years ago. They still conveyed her initial meaning, that they needed help and ran mostly on donations. Every little bit counted.

Skylar voiced the words that shot across her mind, not bothering to hide the chagrin rubbing at her nerves. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It could be punched up a little more.” Bowie glanced up at Skylar’s face and added kindly, “I’m sure it does what you need but you really want to pull on their heartstrings. Make it feel like their idea. Give them a reason to open their wallets. Like this.” She opened a blank page and started typing. Before her eyes, Bowie replaced Skylar’s previous text with new words and structures.

Join us in making a real difference! Your donation to Sunrise Sanctuary isn't just a gift—it's a lifeline. With your support, we can give those abandoned a second chance, nurse the injured back to health, and create a sanctuary where everyone feels loved. Every *dollar you contribute doesn't just provide food or supplies; it provides hope, healing, and happiness. Let's be the heroes these pokémon deserve! *All donations are tax deductible.

Bowie’s gaze burned against the side of Skylar’s face as she read over the words. It was soon doubled by Rowan’s gaze, bouncing between the two girls. She pulled her lip in between her teeth. That did sound better. Much better. Informative with heart. She really knew what she was doing.

“And then you can have, like, a wall or bulletin board or something with people’s names or pictures at Intake highlighting those that have donated or helped. Call them your Sun Rays or Sun Beams or something. Then others will see that there’s real people involved and want to help too. People like to feel part of a group. Doesn’t hurt you’ll be poking at their guilt.” She lifted another spoonful to her mouth. “Guilt is a powerful motivator.”

“You say that like you know from experience.”

Bowie stilled. Her hand froze halfway in the motion of pulling the spoon out her mouth. Her shoulders bunched upwards, just slightly, but Skylar caught the motion. Caught the stiffening to her jaw and the slight widening to her eyes. The removal of her spoon was slow and when she swallowed the sound was audible in the quiet room.

“Oh, well, you know…just a passing observation.” Her laugh came out stuttered. She looked at the computer, but her gaze went through it.

“How many people have you passed to make that observation?” Bowie turned at that, the faraway look fading from her eye. Something replaced it, consternation or reservation. Either way, it made Skylar take a step back, cross her arms, sink back into logic and detachment. “Well, you’re a trainer, right?” Bowie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not from nearby if you need a bike. Your bag has seen better days. And Rowan is in great shape.” Rowan smiled with pride at that. Kneeling, Skylar scratched beneath his chin. His skin was rough and cool to the touch. His muscles held firm and steady beneath the surface. “You’ve been taking care of him very well. His flower bulb is much larger than an ivysuar’s would be without experience under his belt. In fact, it’s above average. And these markings?” She motioned to the dark blue markings on Rowan’s legs, lifting to mid-calf resembling socks. “These markings on ivysaurs grow as they gain more experience. The more marks, the stronger they are. Once they really start to connect, it’s a sign they’re on their way to evolution.” Turning away from Rowan, Skylar gave Bowie a pointed stare. “Coupled with the usual signs of being in the sunlight and its bulb creating a sweet scent, anyway.”

Bowie’s face flashed through a few emotions until landing on a sort of sly curiosity. “…Are you sure you’re not breeders?”

Skylar’s head tilted, just slightly, as if it would give her a different angle to see past Bowie’s obvious topic change. But she gave her nothing. Her face remained as open as a sunflora, her question sincere if not carefully placed. Okay, I get it. Skylar had a few topics of conversation she didn’t like to touch on herself. Pushing wouldn’t get her that far. She learned that the hard way with Bucky. If working at the sanctuary taught her one thing it was to have patience. She could outwait Bowie. She was used to waiting.

“Just a passing observation,” Skylar finally said. Bowie stared at her. She stared back, lifting an eyebrow.  Then her lip quirked, and Bowie’s shoulders dropped and she broke into another one of her full-fledged grins.

Her door opened and a second later Zenith’s head appeared in the space between the door and its frame. “It’s getting late, Sky.”

“I know. We’re just about finished anyway.” The changes could be implemented in the morning. This was a good start. “Were you heading down?”

“Yeah, I was just on my way.” Zenith entered, stopping to kneel by Rowan and offer him a treat. He looked to Bowie, who nodded, and gobbled it out of his hand. “I’m keeping Apollo with me. I figure the skitty could use him as an external heat source if necessary. If you need anything, Zelus will be on standby.”

Skylar pushed for him to keep his pokégear nearby, insisting even when he pointed out they had a phone in Intake. Because that didn’t matter if he wasn’t anywhere near it to pick up if she needed him. After the radio silence that morning she had half a mind to glue it to his ear.

“So, where am I sleeping?” Bowie asked when Zenith left the room after bidding them both goodnights. Bowie seemed particularly pleased he included her.

Skylar gave her a look as she dropped onto her bed. “Uh…here?” She let out a yelp when Delta jumped down from her bookcase and landed on her head. That’s where she’d been hiding! That sneaky girl! She made a mental note to push her ear drop treatment to first thing in the morning. A cranky, grumbly Delta in pain was the last thing she wanted to deal with.

Hands on her hips, Bowie twisted from side to side as if searching for another bed that would appear before her eyes at any second. “There’s only one bed.”

“There’s only one me.” Skylar shrugged. “Besides, weren’t you the one who said it was a sleepover?”

“You’re not gonna, like, freeze my bra are you?”

“…No?” Is that what people did at sleepovers? Admittedly Skylar hadn’t been to one outside her family in…ever.

Her old classmates were just that, classmates. Sure they talked about their classes and gushed over the pokémon they imaged they’d obtain when they became of age, but that was as far as their similarities went. Not for a lack of trying, but kids weren’t exactly the most understanding when she’d come in with dirt covered jeans, gushing about a tauros they rescued or the trubbish they found mixed in with actual garbage. By the time they got old enough to pair off with friends and have sleepovers, Skylar knew deep down she hadn’t made the cut for whatever arbitrary and unspoken rules society had created to put them on one side and her on the other.

“Good, because this is my cutest one and I can’t afford a replacement.” Before she could react, Bowie jumped onto the bed, jostling them both until she settled down. They lay side by side, propped against the large pillows. Bowie’s skin was warm.

“Trainers win money after battles.” She meant for it to be a question, but it came out more straightforward. She hid her face, letting her hair fall into a curtain around her while she gathered up and fluffed her blankets.

Bowie nodded, taking it in stride. “Yep! Though that depends on how much they battle and who they’re battling against.” Waving her hand she added, “And, you know, the odds and ends here and there. Things happen, plans change...” She tugged on one of her braids, now sleek and tidy after her shower. That faraway look reappeared in her eye, only for it to be banished away when she sucked in a breath, reanimated. “Which reminds me! For your site, you’ll want to add more pictures. Splash it around every page, not just of the pokémon but of you and your dad too so they can see who they’re helping. And then have a page for them individually so people can learn about them. Their names and their habits and everything. Make them more appealing.”

“…We want the right people to get them,” Skylar said.

“They will. But the right people won’t come without the right advertisement.”

Skylar’s lips flattened. They weren’t products, they were living, breathing beings who deserved rest and care and a good home like everyone else. She wanted to trust Bowie; after all she had come to her rescue and, despite whatever plans she may or may not have had for the day, she put them aside and dove right into the volunteer work without a second thought. But they did only just meet that morning. And now, by her father’s push, they were having a “sleepover”. If she could trust her to share a bed and gain access to her website, she should be able to trust her instincts too. Right?

Clearing her throat, Skylar’s attention shifted over to Rowan who sat by the bed, waiting. He sat back on his haunches, standing stock still, as if he were a statue. Or a well-trained guard dog.

Nuding Bowie with her elbow, Skylar lifted her chin in his direction. “Is Rowan coming up here?”

Bowie glanced at him. “He’s waiting for permission.” Ah. That made sense. He did the same when they first entered her room, waiting in the doorway until Skylar noticed and motioned for him to come in. In fact, he did the same when they were getting dinner as well, holding back until Zelus offered him food. Her observations came to screeching halt when Bowie turned a frown Skylar’s way. “And you can talk to him directly, by the way. He’s not your patient.”

“Guest.” It slipped out before Skylar could stop herself. She knew that wasn’t the point of the conversation but…the look Bowie gave her made her squirm. Her mom used to look at her the same way when she was disappointed. When she was home.

Bowie blinked. “What?”

“Guest,” Skylar repeated, voice quieter than before. “We call them guests here. Not patients.” She avoided that burning gaze and focused back on Rowan. He blinked back at her. “Rowan, you can come up if you’d like.” Her voice was apologetic beneath Bowie’s watchful eye, but she couldn’t manage to get the words out. Her cheeks burned and shame curdled in her stomach. After all, hadn’t her mother taught her better?

Thankfully he took the invitation at once. The bed creaked and groaned as Rowan eagerly leapt up onto the mattress. His hind legs wiggled and squirmed in the air in his efforts to leap upwards. Zest returning in the blink of an eye, Bowie reached down and helped lift him up. He immediately curled upwards on her lap, tightening up in a ball, burring his face into Bowie’s stomach.

“Mind if I watch some TV?”

“Go ahead.” Flopping back against her pillows, Skylar dragged an arm across her eyes. Talk about emotional whiplash. Being around Bowie coupled with her day was like charging through an emotional hurricane. Now that she was on the other side and the day wound down, she was exhausted. Her eyelids drooped, her limbs fell heavy, and her comfortable mattress would carry her off into dreamland at any second.

“What about your recorded stuff?”

Hmm? Skylar’s mind was slow to drift back to the present. “Yeah, that’s fine.” The last recording she’d watched was the Unova Grand Festival match a few weeks ago. It should’ve been moved to one of her categorized sub-folders after she finished. Her mind reeled, thinking back to anything new that would have aired lately. She didn’t get much of a chance to watch anything live. What day was it again…? Oh no…! She bolted upright, swinging for the remote. “Wait, that’s actually—”

“Is that The Great Kalos Poké Puff Showdown? You like The Great Kalos Poké Puff Showdown?” Skylar’s wince at Bowie’s excited volume quickly turned into a frown. What was that supposed to mean? It was a fun, low stakes baking competition for amateur poké puff bakers and connoisseurs. Everyone was nice and helpful, the judges weren’t mean, and the accents were a delight to listen to. Why wouldn’t she like it? “It’s my favorite show! Having Lisia as a host was a great idea! They needed someone new. I mean, Wallace was okay but Lisia really connects with the contestants, you know? She knows how to make them all shine, even the shy and quiet and awkward ones. She brings out the best in everyone! And she’s suuuuper pretty, too!”

Bowie didn’t have to tell her twice. Skylar knew all about Lisia. She’s Wallace’s niece and a Pokémon Coordinator Idol, a step above the rank of Top Coordinators due to her special talents and love of the community. With her bubbly attitude and discerning eye, she had a knack for scouting raw talent and helping them rise in the ranks to become a Top Coordinator. First there was May and then Marina and Zoe and Dawn. And she didn’t pass up male entrants too, such as Brendan and Drew and Kenny. Everyone under her watchful eye rose through the ranks and consistently reached semi-final if not final stages in regional Grand Festivals.

Everybody knew their names.

“—And all her videos showing the behind the scenes of the show are amazing. Oooh! You should think of making a Pokévision channel for the sanctuary! To show everyone off! It’d be great! I can film and edit and we can put them in cute outfits and—oof!”

Snickering, Skylar removed her pillow from Bowie’s face and tucked it beneath her head. Her smirk grew larger at the equally shocked and amused expression on Bowie’s face, frozen in disbelief.

“What?” Skylar said with an innocent shrug. “It’s a sleepover.” It didn’t hurt it got her to stop talking so she could see what challenge they’d have to face this week after last week’s particularly difficult chocolate themed episode. And so she could focus on Lisia.

It was a win-win.

Chapter Text

FOUR | Bone of Contention

The Whimsical Whisk smelled as it looked: heavenly. Warm, heady scents of dough and honey greeted customers passing by the door, a beacon of artisanal delicacies. The walls, an exposed dark brick, were offset by the shiny, wood ceiling and floors but it was the pops of robin’s egg blue on the display cases, shelves, and light fixtures that drew it all together. Not to mention the items held within the cases, of course.

Rows upon rows of various cakes, muffins, croissants, bread loaves, cookies, brownies, poffins, poké puffs, doughnuts, pastries, and macarons sat beneath tiny spotlights behind the display glass. Little signs placed next to them noted each item and its ingredients, written in neon chalk.

It was no wonder Bowie didn’t want to leave.

“Have you had their danish? It’s amazing! I swear, it’s like biting into a cheesy cloud!” Bowie’s breath fogged the glass her nose and palms pressed against. She kneeled on the ground, surveying each one. If the glass didn’t act as a physical restraint, Skylar could picture her eating them up faster than a snorlax.

“Yes, I’ve had it before.” Skylar had nearly every item available in the shop, starting with the s’mores flavored macaron when she was two. The Whimsical Whisk was one of her favorite stores in town. Mason and Winnie, a brother-sister team, ran the shop after having taken it over from their parents a few years ago. They decided to retire early and go on a months-long cruise to all the islands, leaving the shop to their kids. Last Skylar heard they’d left the Orange Islands and were on their way to Alola.

Mason and Winnie, along with their slurpuff, slugma, and hitmonchan, were a well-oiled machine. Hitmonchan took care of kneading the dough and carrying the heavy bulk items during inventory, slugma kept the ovens and the proofing drawers hot, and slurpuff kept a close eye on the freshness of all the ingredients. Slurpuff was also a great salesman, knowing by one sniff just what item a customer should order. They went along with his suggestions. Winnie worked the front counter, with her genial smile and strong patience, she never felt the need to rush those indecisive. Mason, by comparison, was a man of few words and a little gruff. But when he held cooking and bakeware classes, he blossomed, and his knowledge couldn’t be denied.

The Whimsical Whisk was their go-to bakery for events and occasions. And for a trade. With Mollie and Nana being the only miltank around to provide their milk, the Danielses gave their first batch of excess milk to the shop. It was cheaper than shipping inventory from miltank farms in Johto and, in return, they got a good deal on their orders. It was a win-win. “So that’s…eight bottles,” Skylar said, lining them up on the counter. Lifting her bag higher on her shoulder, she swung her arm in a large circle to relieve her stiff muscles.

“Wow! That’s more than last month!” Winnie gushed. She held the bottles out to Slurpuff who gave each one a mighty sniff. Satisfied with each, he flashed a thumbs up in succession. “This is perfect. We’ve been meaning to bring hot milk cake and our cheese tarts back onto the menu. Mollie and Nana must be having quite a time.”

Skylar nodded. “Their milk production has increased with the skitty we’ve brought in. We almost can’t keep up.” It wasn’t the first time Skylar thought the skitty had come around at a good time. (If being abandoned could be seen as a good thing.) Some may say it was divine intervention, some may say it was fate. Skylar just thought it was a coincidence. But a beneficial one, nonetheless. With the rest of the excess, they could sell at any of the upcoming markets to bring in extra profit. Every little bit helped.

“We heard. We saw the post you put up on the site.” Winnie’s mouth pulled down to a frown and she softly clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “Those poor babies. But I’m sure they’ll be scooped up in a matter of time. We don’t see skitty around these parts often.”

Which was a fact that still niggled in the back of Skylar’s mind. There was certainly some crossover and migration of pokemon between the regions, especially with a ferry and a train ride connection between Kanto and Johto. But having skitty in Kanto, and those being so small, it didn’t sit right with Skylar. While she didn’t want to suspect something as nefarious as improper breeding or smuggling going on, it was odd.

Pushing aside her quickly souring thoughts, Skylar put her focus back on the task at hand. “Is our order ready? I’m sorry you had to go through the hassle of making it again,” Skylar said.

“No hassle at all,” Winnie said as Mason emerged from the back, taping a box along the way. The swinging door revealed Hitmonchan in brief glimpses, pounding at a pile of stretchy dough on a metal table with its red rounded fists. “We sold the other one quickly; it didn’t sit too long once out on display.”

Skylar moved for her wallet, nodding her thanks to Mason who nodded back. “What do I owe you?”

Mason shook his head, a deep frown etching on his features almost as if he were insulted by the question. “No charge for this one,” he said. When Skylar opened her mouth to protest, he added, “We insist.” She clamped it shut. Being on the other end of generosity made her twitch; she managed to banish it away when she dropped a few pokédollars in the tip jar.

Winnie pretended not to notice as she leaned over the counter, studying Bowie. “If you’d like to try something new, we did just put out our seasonal items.”

Bowie’s head whipped around; rapid breathing turned into salivating. “Seasonal!?” In a flash she moved from the display case and over to the counter, an almost manic expression on her face. “Which ones?”

Skylar pushed a heavy sigh towards the ceiling. They didn’t have time for this! She’d already gotten what they came in for. In fact, the cake started to feel like a sack of bricks instead of the airy dessert she’d ordered a few weeks ago. She shifted the bag from one hand to the other, shaking the now free one out. “Bowie, c’mon. We have to keep moving.”

“In a sec!” Bowie waved her hand behind her as Winnie motioned to Slurpuff, who disappeared into the back. A second later it returned, carrying a tray which Winnie held out to Bowie. An array of what looked like pokéballs sat in neat lines, gleaming beneath the lights. The tops shined in various colors, a rainbow of sweetness. “They look amazing!”

“Well, thank you!” A light dusting of red settled in Winnie’s cheeks. “They’re fruit puffs. Do you know what a profiterole is?” Bowie looked like a bobblehead with how fast she nodded. “That’s where the inspiration came from. Compared to poképuffs that are cake based, these are built around a choux pastry. Each color depicts a different fruit filling. All the produce is locally sourced and organic to ensure fresh flavor throughout.”

Slurpuff licked his chops as if to emphasize Winnie’s point. Not that Bowie needed the push, her eyes were as big as saucers and sparkled like emeralds at the sight of the desserts. Clasping her hands together, she admired the little pokéballs. “I don’t know which one to pick!”

“Why not all of them?” Skylar asked. It was meant to be a sarcastic comment, but the way Bowie inhaled on her gasp, she may as well have turned into a human vacuum cleaner. Mentally slapping herself, Skylar sighed. You walked right into that one, Sky.

She didn’t get why Bowie insisted on joining her on finishing her errands. She kept claiming it was to make up for being part of the reason they hadn’t been completed but that was hardly her fault. She didn’t put the skitty in the drain…as far as Skylar knew, anyway. That’s as far as her responsibility should have gone. And if she really insisted, there was plenty to do back at the sanctuary to prepare for the day. But, no matter how much Skylar tried to hint and imply she preferred running errands and shopping alone, Bowie was adamant about going.

Oh well; maybe the sooner she felt her debt was paid off the sooner things could go back to normal.

The bell jingled above the shop as the girls pushed through, both clutching bags. Bowie practically skipped along the street with her head shoved inside, taking long whiffs. Skylar couldn’t blame her for that. The baked goods at the Whimsical Whisk were ambrosial.

“Where to next?” Bowie asked, lifting her head. A smear of yellow lay on her cheek.

“Post office,” Skylar replied going through the checklist in her mind. “Need to empty out our box.”

“After that?”

Skylar extended her thumb and subsequent fingers as she listed their next destinations. “Then I need to swing back to the butcher shop and then I have an order to pick up at the pharmacy, I need to swing by the grocery store, and I need to make an appointment with the salon.”

Bowie blinked at her, head tilting to the side, raking her from head to toe. “Your hair looks fine to me.”

Skylar slid her eyes from staring ahead until she glanced at Bowie from the corners. “…It’s to get the guests groomed but thanks?”

Bowie’s face switched through a plethora of emotions in rapid succession—surprise, fear, embarrassment, maybe shame, and some guilt—until it landed on sheepish. “My bad! I wasn’t suggesting your hair needed it! Because it doesn’t! It’s cool! It looks cool! Like…like a tangela!” Skylar supposed that was supposed to be a compliment. A glance in a passing window greeted her with the sight of her slight frown and her dreads stuffed into a ponytail off her head, a quick bind she threw in that morning. Her hairstyle choice was due to ease and not a fashion statement. The less time she spent fussing about her hair, the more it could be put somewhere else. Somewhere more important. “You know, you kinda look like Nessa. With the hair.” Bowie pointed to her own head as if somehow her hair had migrated to a different body part.

Skylar hummed. She got that a lot. She and Nessa did share the same hair coloring, and maybe the length whenever Skylar let her hair down. But that was as far as their similarities went.

Nessa was gorgeous, poised, always knew the right thing to say at the right time; the pride and joy of Hulbury. There was a reason she had her fans, not just in battling or modeling but in life. Everything she went after she achieved, she found a way to balance her two conflicting professions, she handled any and every challenge with grace and ease. Everything was perfect for her.

Must be nice.

They walked along until coming back to the truck. It sat parked outside the second-hand bookstore. Minccino dusted the faded doormat with its large bushy tail out front. Inside Estelle, the elderly shop owner and Skylar’s preschool teacher, held books out to Mimikyu who used its long claw-like appendage to place books higher up on the shelves. The topmost shelves sat empty.

“Think we should put this stuff up first?” Bowie asked, motioning to the truck.

Skylar’s nose wrinkled as she thought the question over and then she nodded. “Between the post office and the grocery store, we’re going to need all the hands we can get.”

Bowie hummed. Her head tilted backwards as she put a finger to her chin. “I was just thinking…if we’re going to stop anyway…we might as well take a break and eat these while they’re fresh!” Skylar gave her a look, making Bowie’s motor-mouth rev. “I mean, it’d be a crime not to. All food should be eaten at the time of preparation! It’d be rude otherwise…”

Skylar closed her eyes in a long, slow, blink. Once her eyes were open, she glanced at the large clock tower at the head of Main Street. A noctowl slept peacefully in the large nest just on the balcony just below the large clock. A pidgeot sat perched on the railing nearby, feathers rustling in the breeze. Pidgeot acted as the clock’s bell, chirping every hour on the hour. Noctowl, once risen with the moon, acted as the town’s security system. Its hoots could be heard a couple miles away. The day was still new, if they were going to get any chance to rest before another full day back at the sanctuary, now would be a good time. And they did smell good…

“Fine,” she said, the word nearly drowned out by Bowie’s squeal. “But just one!”

Her growling stomach turned Skylar’s stern expression to one of surprise and Bowie’s smile to a smirk. Skylar turned away from her, glaring down at her front. Traitor. Though she couldn’t fully place the blame on Bowie.

Desserts had always been her weakness.

The legs of the metal chair scraped against the brick walkway as Rowan’s thick vines pulled it backwards. Skylar nodded in thanks and sat down, barely lifting her feet in time when he pushed her back in. Satisfied, he walked to his side of the table and leapt onto the chair. His thick leaves swayed in happiness as she leaned into the pats and scritches Bowie laid on his head while thanking him and calling him a good boy. Smears of green and orange painted the corners of her mouth.

“He’s very helpful,” Skylar remarked. Rowan all but purred from Skylar’s praise, a gleam appearing in his eyes.

“That’s Ro!” Bowie licked a glob of chocolate off her thumb. Another dripped out the half of the fruit puff still clutched between two fingers. It splattered against the wax paper it had been wrapped up in; a jigglypuff pattern decorated the other side. “He’s always been like that, ever since we met.”

“Oh?” Skylar carefully cut through the blue fruit puff with a knife. Its dark-purple contents oozed out onto the table. She licked a thick, gel-like glob off the tip. Blueberry, just as she suspected. Tart and sweet, it was a flavorful combination. She thought about bringing Delta out of her ball to try it, but she wasn’t much of a morning vaporeon.

“Yeah! We met at Professor Oak’s lab. The squirtle was very forward, greeting us all. The charmander was shy, though. But he was so cute, he hid behind the professor when we first came in to meet them! Only problem was his tail; it set his lab coat on fire! Rowan immediately yanked the coat off him and trampled on it until the flames went out. We’ve been buddies ever since.” Bowie scratched him beneath the chin; he leaned into her touch, eyes slipping shut. “I knew I needed someone like him on my team.”

Team. From what she saw, Rowan was the only pokemon Bowie had on her. His was pokéball was the only one she touched on her choker. The rest must be empty. But was that due to wanting to catch more or had others been released?

“Do you have any others?” Skylar asked.

Bowie nodded, her cheek bulging as she chewed. “I do but they’re back home with Granny.”

“You didn’t want to take them with you?”

This time she shook her head. She swallowed, her gulp audible as the bulge moved down her throat. Rowan eyed her, his vines rolling the bright pink poképuff on the wax paper in front of him from side to side. “Kinda wanted to do things differently this time. Besides, she couldn’t let them go.”

Skylar hummed, cutting her fruit puff again before taking a bite. The taste of blueberry popped on her tongue, sweet, woody, with a soft touch of acidity. The puff pastry around the fruit filling was airy and buttery with a tender chew. Winnie outdid herself this year. “What happened last time that made you want a change?”

It was an innocent question. Or, at least, Skylar meant for it to be. But Bowie inhaled sharply only to start coughing. Rowan’s raspy shouts brought shop owners to their doors. He slapped her back with his vines, emitting heavy thuds upon contact. Skylar forced Bowie’s arms into the air, holding them above her head. Tom rushed out of the café one door down, a large pitcher of lemonade in his hands, concern etched into his face. Bowie waved her hand at him, managing a small smile as her coughs subsided. “I’m good, I’m good! Just…just went down the wrong pipe!” Tom left the pitcher on the table, free of charge he said. Skylar still slipped a couple dollars in his hand anyway.

“I’m…sorry,” Skylar uttered, blinking owlishly at Bowie. She wanted an answer, but she didn’t mean to try and kill Bowie in the process. “I-I was just asking…”

“No! No! It’s fine!” Bowie poured lemonade into a glass and downed half of it in one go. The sunlight from above bounced off the ice in the cup and the glitter dotting the pink polish on her nails. “You just caught me off guard.” Rowan nuzzled his nose against Bowie’s arm. Chuckling, she rubbed his head, reassuring him she was fine and not to worry. He took a bite of his puff but kept his eyes on her as he chewed.

“Anyway!” Bowie clapped her hands together. The sound shot down the street. “I was just a kid back then. Kinda aimless. Didn’t know what I was doing. Didn’t know what I wanted to do. But what kid does, y’know?”

Skylar fiddled with the wrapping paper, dragging her tongue along her top teeth. She did. She knew from the day she was born what she wanted to do. Even if she hadn’t grown up at the sanctuary, she knew rescuing and caring for pokémon was her future. It was etched into her bones.

How was someone to live their life if there wasn’t an end goal in mind? What were they working towards? What was the point? How would they know if they even achieved what they were searching for? Besides, she was a trainer; most of them followed the Gym track on the road to try and make the League. Did she not even try? “Do you know now?”

Bowie’s shoulder bounced in a shrug, lips pursing as she made a dismissive sound. “But that’s kinda the point of life, right? To figure this stuff out?” Her arm disappeared into the bag, cutting off at her elbow. “Anyway! That stuff’s boring. The past should stay there, if you ask me.” Retrieving her arm, she glanced at her palm and nearly rocketed out of her seat. “Hey! Look what they gave us!”

Skylar’s head jerked back when Bowie thrust her arm outwards. It took a couple seconds for her to register what she saw.

In Bowie’s hand was a macaron with identical likeness to a skitty; pink and cream-colored fur, pointed ears, cute expression and all.

Three bulging mailbags emerged on a cart pushed by Indeedee♂, a bipedal pokémon with horns curling upward and fur shaped in the design of a little tuxedo. Known for their desire to serve, Indeedee♂ helped keep the post office running smoothly. He adapted well, ensuring every interaction remained positive and beneficial. She enjoyed visiting him as a child whenever her parents sent off their stacks of letters; he always gave her a lollipop.

Skylar eyed the bags as they glided by; a wheel squeaked and squirmed along the way. Their call out a couple weeks ago must’ve spread further than she originally thought.

“Wow,” Bowie uttered. “All that’s for us?”

Skylar nodded, stuffing down the knee-jerk urge to correct her word choice. Bowie was part of the ‘us’ now, she supposed. “This is good,” she said, more to herself than to the others. “Should hold us over for a bit.”

“Ben and I threw in some items ourselves,” Annie, the postmaster, said while smoothing down her tie tucked beneath her navy-blue cardigan. Benjamin, her husband, is a staff member at the Pokémon Academy in Viridian City. “We couldn’t thank you enough for your help with Henry.”

Skylar kept her eyes on the bags as Indeedee♂ moved out the door. Rowan sat near Bowie’s heels, grumbling at Indeedee♂ as he passed by. “Have you had a chance to look into getting him a partner?”

“We did! We spent last night doing research. We like the idea of getting a mime jr. but we’ve been hearing good things about ralts as well.”

Skylar digested the information. “Ralts are good companions. They’re really great with emotions and that deep connection with people once they trust one another. In fact, they can act as great service pokémon when in the right circumstances.” And what better circumstance than to aid in a mute child practicing his speech? Excitement pinged through her. Most thought of growlithe or other canine pokémon when it came to service work, but they could run the gamut with all the services needed! There was a whole world of them out there, waiting for their ways they could provide help. “Either one he ends up with, I’m sure it’ll be beneficial in the long run.”

“He’s very excited! We’re going to be taking him around to the breeders next week. We want him to be involved as much as possible.”

“That’s an excellent idea!” Skylar said. “Letting him make the decision in the end would be best to create the bond you’re looking for. After all, you’re not just choosing a partner, the partner is choosing him too.” First meetings were just that, a meeting. The best way to get a chance to see if a pokémon and their future partner would click would be to spend more than just ten minutes with them.

“We are a bit nervous about it as well,” Annie admitted. “This could all end belly-up and Henry would have to look elsewhere…” Her smile wavered slightly, and she wrung her hands. The lines by her mouth became more pronounced as her lips dipped into a frown. When she spoke again, her words came out in a bit of haste, nearly stumbling over her words as red stained her cheeks. “Please keep us in mind if a pokémon comes through the sanctuary. I know you don’t have control over the sort that come your way but, you know, we would like to help in any way we can…”

That look came to Annie’s eye as it did for everyone who spoke to her about breeders: guilt. As if Skylar was going to bite their heads off or judge them for daring to obtain a pokémon elsewhere. Well…okay, she did judge some of them, especially those that went to pokémills instead of ethical institutions. But she didn’t get the vibe from Annie they were going to cut corners, especially if her son was involved. While she would prefer someone getting a pokémon that was waiting for a home, breeders were also a good option. She sighed. There wasn’t much she could do to change their minds, even if the urge pulsed through her. Besides, she was sure Annie was going to chew her lips into oblivion if she didn’t say something to ease her nerves. That came with the territory too. “If you’d like, my dad can visit with the breeders you have in mind to ensure they’re vetted. Or he could contact Professor Oak—”

“Hey Sky! Have you seen these?” Bowie stood near a postcard display, waving a stack of them over her head. Her voice carried in the small space, the sudden intrusion having made Skylar jump and turn a wide-eyed incredulous stare her way. It rolled off Bowie like water on a psyduck’s feathers. “This Todd Snap guy takes some great pictures! Look at the gyarados coming out of the waterfall!” She thrust out her arm, showing off the glossy picture displayed on the front.

Exasperation twisted Skylar’s mouth to the side. Was that really so important Bowie had to get in the middle of their conversation? While she appreciated good photography, looking over a postcard didn’t warrant that much urgency. Not enough to shout about it while she was in the middle of an important conversation.

Indeedee♂ wheeled the wobbly cart back in as Annie excused herself to answer a ringing phone somewhere in the back. His ochre eyes swung in Skylar’s direction beneath the half-closed lids as the car came to a halt. She stared back at him, eyebrows furrowing. Why is he…? His horns started twitching, Uh oh.

With squinting eyes, Indeedee♂’s horns twitched faster and then stood straight up. A chill rolled down Skylar’s spine and she grimaced as a thin blue aura appeared around his horns. The pyramid stack of packing tape matched the glow and began wobbling. The roll at the top of the pyramid steadily lifted into the air, as if being pulled by an invisible string. It floated towards Indeedee♂ and came to a stop by his head, bobbing up and down as if an invisible hand tossed and caught it over and over again.

Ready to throw.

“We’re not fighting!” Skylar insisted, stretching her palms in front of her. Though at the moment she wouldn’t mind getting the chance to take that smile off Bowie’s face. Indeedee♂’s head tilted to the side, staring hard at her. Through her, even, with the intensity of his deep gaze. “I promise! We’re fine! No need to throw things around!” Her eyes bounced between Indeedee♂ and the levitating roll of tape.

Skylar’s mind raced, trying to call up a de-escalation tactic Zenith had taught her over the years. Some pokémon could be talked down with quiet words, some needed to be scared off with loud noises and making themselves look big, others you had to stay absolutely still or show you weren’t a threat.

But how do you handle psychic pokémon when they had the ability to read their minds, or their emotions, to be a step ahead? Indeedee♂ s’ horns were sensitive, they could pick up mood changes faster than a pidgeot picked up a shift in an air current. Shoving her emotions down could only work for so long.

Slow and steady, she dug her hand into her pocket, retrieving the small ball inside. Tapping the button on the front, the bright blue ball splashed with a puddle of white grew in her palm and popped open. Delta materialized in the middle of the floor, arching her back as she dipped in a low, fluid stretch.

“Delta, want to help me out here?” Skylar asked.

Delta glanced at her over her shoulder and then swung her head back over to Indeedee♂. Indeedee♂ stared back, crossing his arms. Delta unfurled her tail, swiped it against the floorboards, and sent out a series of taps and slaps. ‘Why?’

…Seriously!? Skylar’s arms fell to her side and heat burned her cheeks. It was one thing to not be prepared for a rescue situation to pop up, but it was another to have her pokémon outright not want to help her. And in front of Bowie of all people!

She was supposed to have everything figured out, be on top of every situation, have plans X, Y, and Z lined up just in case Plan A and B failed.

For the second time in two days, she found herself uncomfortably prepared. But even she couldn’t see into the future and think Indeedee♂ would try and pummel her with packing tape of all things while she went to pick up their mail.

It’d be funny if it weren’t so embarrassing.

Right. Just need to get everything back on track. Clearing her throat, Skylar rolled back her shoulders, lifted her chin, and looked Delta in the eye. She tapped the front of her boot on the floor, stopping every now and then to scrape it from left to right.

‘Ineedee♂ don’t like hostility. I need you on standby if I can’t get him to back down.’

The fins around Delta’s neck wiggled, taking in the information. She looked at Indeedee♂, and when she turned back to Skylar her mouth had curled up into a large, sly smile, showing off her fangs. Eyes sparkling, she tapped against the ground—‘Good luck!’—and leapt up onto a metal cabinet holding stacked, flat shipping boxes available in different sizes.

Unbelievable!

“Delta—ouch!” Skylar’s hand flew up to her forehead as the packing tape rolled away from her foot. Indeedee♂ lifted another one off the stack, head tilted to the side, his downturned mouth lifting upwards. Just past him she spied Bowie’s hand over her mouth, fingers splayed just enough to show the gleam of her grin. “I’m not mad at Delta!” She batted the roll of tape away from her face and Indeedee♂ picked up and launched another one.

Mad? No. Frustrated? Yes. She loved Delta to bits but her diva proclivities could rear its ugly head at the worst moments. Especially when it amused her. Getting battered with something so mundane probably made her week. She’d never seen Delta so smug.

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Skylar called out when Indeedee♂ geared up for another throw. Untangling which emotion he chose to act on was a lost cause; they mixed and muddled within her, like colors smearing on a canvas. The best thing she could do was to duck her head and change tactics. Brute forcing her way to the response she wanted with a psychic type wasn’t going to work. She had to concede. Her father’s pokémon behavior textbooks said very little about safeguarding against their superior mental capabilities. Was that because no one could figure it out or there was no answer?

Relax. Breathe. Focus. She pulled a strong breath through her nose, tapping down the swirl of negative emotions until she conjured up something akin to understanding. She didn’t have to try too hard; it became muscle memory when dealing with conversations about her mother. Fake it ‘til you make it.

“It’s okay,” she said again, putting on a smile. “We’re good. I’m sure she was just excited to show me something cool.”

Indeedee♂ stared. Skylar’s heart beat a steady, ticking rhythm against her chest. She counted each one. The rolling tape slowly inched towards her head until the smooth surface tapped against her forehead. Was that a kiss or a warning? The squeaking wheel of the cart started up and he disappeared right the back, right as Annie came back out exclaiming “Oh dear! What happened here?” at the packing tape on the floor.

“He’s a little high-strung, don’t you think?” Bowie asked approaching. All Skylar could do was stare at her, weary. This girl was gonna be the death of her, wasn’t she? “Look! It’s such a dynamic picture!” She shoved the postcard in Skylar’s face.

Skylar looked and, begrudgingly, agreed. Gyarados popped out the waterfall as if he were getting ready to attack. Maw wide open, every sharp tooth on display, glistening beneath the sunlight and the spray of water bouncing off its head. Tiny drops of rainbows dotted the scales of its skin, adding depth to the dynamic shot.

Something poked her arm. Skylar looked down, taking in the sight of Indeedee♂ holding out a lollipop. Strawberry and cream swirl.

“What are the pool noodles for?” Bowie flicked the bright colored foam protruding out the full shopping cart. Skylar took a moment to go over the list in her hands before she answered. Rowan’s thick vines pushed the cart ahead of them, lining it up with the checkout conveyor belt. An octillery sat by the helm, its tentacles ready to pick up, scan, and load the items while processing money.

“Headbutting,” she replied. A few moments later the burning sensation on the side of her head made her latch onto Bowie’s confused expression. “Bucky’s been headbutting a lot lately. I don’t want him to harm the others so we’ll have to put the noodles on his horns for protection.”

Bowie’s eyebrows flew up. “Don’t gogoat need their horns to sense feelings?”

“Yes, but I don’t think the others need that particular ability to know he’d bash them through a fence if they get too close,” Skylar replied.

“Wouldn’t it be better to have him sequestered?”

“Bucky’s the leader of the herd. If we sequestered him then the rest would follow, and they need to stay on a schedule.”

As she spoke, she tried to unload their gathered items onto the conveyor belt, making sure not to disturb Delta who lounged in the cart seat. Rowan beat her to it, using his vines with lightning-fast speed to offload bleach, shampoo, packages of oreos, detergent, zip-lock bags, garbage bags, sponges, baby wipes, and the pool noodles.

Her eyes traveled across the way to the bulletin board dotted with colorful fliers, shouting about services and events from the past and coming in the future. She hummed, eyes training on the old notice about Team Rocket activity in Viridian and how they all needed to be vigilant and refrain from staying out at night. If they saw anything, they were to say something. The paper had yellowed over time, but the frozen image of a rocket grunt’s sneer burned through.

Octillery scanned and loaded the bag with his many arms, turning into an orange blur of a pinwheel among a symphony of electronic beeps. Staffed with octillery, machamp, indeedee♀, and munna, Greer’s Grocer provided an easy shopping experience for everyone in Arylide Town. Machamp and octillery acted as cashiers, greeters, and stock personnel while the munna floated around aiding those who couldn’t walk or stand for long and utilizing their psychic powers to grab items off the highest shelf and help people remember items off their lists. Indeedee♀ provided similar support, reading customers’ minds to fill their shopping lists.

The register dinged, flashing its total. Skylar grimaced at the numbers. It was nothing new but still put a rock in her stomach. She had another night of balancing ahead of her. Gummy froakie, cookie dough, goldeen fish crackers, wasabi peas, agemochi, and hello pancham cookies slid down the divider behind her. Bowie shrugged and reached for an issue of Poképolitan with May adorned on the cover with Blaziken, flipping through the glossy pages.

The burst of sunlight sent Skylar’s eyelashes fluttering, adjusting to the onslaught once she stepped past the exit doors. A quick glance at her Pokégear told her their trip had gone over by forty minutes, including the buffer time she’d allotted. They missed morning meeting and assignments.

“Alright, let’s hurry up,” she said, taking the cart from Rowan. The wheels spun and rattled as she pushed the cart faster. Stopping by the bed of her truck, she hefted the paper bags over the side in a continuous arc.

“What’s the rush?” Bowie asked, coming up with plastic bags dangling off her arms.

“The sanctuary’s open,” Skylar said. “I need to get to work.”

“That’s fine, but you’re going to tweak your back throwing the bags like that.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, let me help,” Bowie said, sliding her bags off her arms and over the side of the truck.

“Oh now you want to help?”

They both froze. Skylar slowly closed her eyes, cursing beneath her breath. She’d meant to say that quietly. Bowie rested an arm against the bed and stared at her, the other hand placed on her hip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Scratching her hairline, Skylar felt the brief lingering pain from the packing tape right at the surface of her skull. “I mean, you had no trouble standing around watching me get pelted by Indeedee♂.”

“Delta had a pretty clear view watching it happen and you didn’t say anything to her.” Skylar waved those words away. She didn’t understand how she and Delta worked. “Besides, I didn’t think you wanted me to do anything.” Her shoulders bounced in a loose shrug.

“…What?”

“I mean, you’re not exactly hiding the fact you don’t like me.”

“I…It’s not—" That wasn’t…entirely true. Liking Bowie had nothing to do with anything. Not really.

Bowie continued as if Skylar hadn’t tried to come up with some sort of explanation. “I mean, are you allergic to getting help or something?”

Skylar huffed. “Well that’s dumb. Look at what I do.”

“I have been!” Bowie scoffed and shook her head. “You do a lot of stuff on your own, freaking out any time anyone gets in your way. That can’t be fun.”

“My job isn’t fun!” The words burst out in an angry shot. A lone newspaper, muddied and crinkled, blew down across the parking lot. “It’s hard work! I can’t just go breezing through it all acting like nothing matters!”

Bowie glowered. “That’s not fair.”

“Your head’s up in the freakin’ clouds!”

“Better than it being stuffed up my own ass!”

A metallic thud punched through the thick air between them. With near identical expressions of confusion, the two girls whipped their heads around, searching the parking lot. Several cars, oil sheens, and lampposts dotted the lot. Everything remained still.

Her lips pressed into a line and she focused on the noise. It hit again. Something hard and fast. locking in on the sound. Heavy pants and grunts and scraping came along with it. Then—

Her heart squeezed and her stomach dropped at that noise. She’d treated many different species of pokémon in the last ten years. They all sounded the same when they were in pain.

She stumbled to a stop behind the grocery store. An empty truck sat with its rear door wide open. Bushes overgrew a large white wall separating the store from nearby homes. Stacks of pallets teetered near a dumpster holding unflattened boxes. The other dumpster sat empty.

Another clang. Skylar flinched at the piercing sound. More snuffling and shuffling. Panting and wheezing. A heavy weight swiped by her ankles. Delta looked up at her, purring, curling her tail around her legs. Skylar stomped and scraped at the ground, nodding toward the dumpster. Delta nodded, hunched, and leaned forward, mouth open wide.

A bright blue beam tracked from her mouth to the dumpster, lifting upward at the last second. Blast after blast until a slick, icy incline attached itself to the side. Skylar nudged Delta with her foot. Good girl.

The awful smell smacked her in the face. Undeterred, she hefted herself over the edge and peered down. At first all she saw were broken hand baskets, styrofoam takeaway cartons, broken hangers, smudged and soiled clothing, empty egg cartons, and a pile of rotten fruit. Then the cartons started to wiggle and move amidst more shuffling.

“Hold on—I’m coming.” Taking a deep breath, Skylar leapt into the dumpster. Her boots landed with a heavy thud, vibrations rattled up and down her legs. The movement stopped and she approached with tentative steps. Once close, she pushed aside the cartons, peeling away layers of the stack one by one until black eyes stared back at her.

Surrounded by a thick skull filled with cracks, Cubone’s eyes followed her approach, lowering as she knelt in front of it. One socket of the skull, on its left side, held firm while the right had cracks around it that resembled a spiderweb. Her eyes lowered to his body. His hide, the typical brown with a cream belly, ran smooth save for a few raised ridges on his hindquarters. Skylar squinted. She’d never seen marks like that on a cubone before. Any bites or attacks from its natural predator, mandibuzz, left flatter scars on the worst end.

“C’mon buddy,” she said, keeping her voice low. Cubone continued to stare. She tried one step forward. He didn’t move. She tried another. He stayed still. Extending her hand, she kept her eyes on Cubone until she touched his arm. The one not holding the bone. Not the short one, anyway. It was then she noticed the larger one in his other hand. Instead of coming to a point like the bones cubone were known to carry around, the other one was much larger and whole. It nearly dwarfed his small stature.

His skin was warm to the touch. Maybe a little too warm for a reptilian creature. Though if he’d spent a lot of time out in the dumpster the heat being trapped in could be the culprit. Cubone stayed stiff in her arms. His heart beat slow against her chest. Going through the formula in her head, she counted the right number of beats, give or take two. At least his heart was healthy. Zenith could do a proper assessment later.

Skylar placed Cubone at the top of the ice slide and watched him glide to the ground. Delta sat nearby, stock still, waiting. Skylar’s boots crunched against the ground after jumping over the ledge again. “Looks like that’s two for two, Delta. What do you think we’ll run into tomorrow? Maybe a qwilfish?” Delta’s ear fins twitched beneath Skylar’s hand and she arched her back, emitting a bubbling growl.

She whipped around, eyes widening, jaw slacking at the bone growing larger and larger as it spun towards her. Gulping, she shrunk back, closing her eyes. This would definitely hurt worse than the packing tape.

Cool mist dotted her face. Skylar gasped. Water rushed out of Delta’s mouth, colliding with the bone. It suspended in midair, its rapid spin slowing to a stop only to twist back in the opposite direction, gaining speed against the water. A heavy push sent the bone flying back where it came: Cubone’s outstretched hand. Its triangular eyes narrowed into a glare. Skylar didn’t need to be close to read the hostility pulsing in its angry grip on the bone.

“I just wanted to help,” Skylar told him.

Cubone’s glare hardened. A raspy, scratching sound trembled from beneath its skull, sounding close to the typical caveman sound from cartoons. He drew back his arm and threw the small bone again. Delta jumped forward, shotting a barrage of bubbles at it.

The bubbles popped in rapid succession. Cubone broke through the beam, having tucked its shoulder and charged forward. It drew its arm back, ready to throw the other bone. The larger bone. Skylar gritted her teeth. Delta may be able to withstand an attack from the smaller bone but the large one would pack a punch.

“Delta—"

“Rowan, vine whip! Let’s go!”

The cords flew over Delta’s shoulders and latched around the large bone. Cubone stopped in its tracks, grabbing the large bone with both hands. It leaned backwards, digging its heels into the ground. Rowan did the same, leaning backward onto its strong hindlegs, pulling its vines tight.

“Reel him in, boy!” Bowie commanded. Grunting, the ivysaur started retracting its vines. Cubone let out more raspy grunts, leaning further backward. Inch by inch it dragged along the ground, towards them. “Now, give him a spin!”

With ease, Rowan lifted Cubone off the ground and began spinning its vines overhead. Cubones grunts turned to shrieks as it flew around and around in the air. Its little legs stuck out behind him as it held on tight.

A muscle twitched in Skylar’s jaw beneath her clenched teeth. If Cubone let go, he’d go flying. Who knew what a drop from that height could do to him? Cubone were resilient but this one looked as if it had been through enough already. Those welts weren’t pokémon-made. She knew that for sure.

“Delta!” Skylar put all her weight on one heavy stomp. Delta glanced back at her. She spoke while stomping and scraping the ground. Delta had to understand her, no matter what. “I need a big bubble. Cushion its fall.”

Delta looked over to Rowan who caught her eye. Rowan winked an eye and Delta nodded once in understanding. Anchoring herself, Delta’s head drew back and then thrust forward. A bubble seeped out of her mouth, growing larger by the second. It became the size of a volleyball, then a soccer ball, then a basketball, and larger and larger still.

Cubone still spun overhead. One tiny hand slipped off the bone, reaching forward to grab it again. Skylar held her breath. The velocity would take him any second. Delta’s bubble continued to grow. The luminescent sheen swirled in a rainbow on its surface. Cubone’s hand came off again. It grunted and cried, still holding on.

Until he wasn’t.

His other hand slipped and he went tumbling through the air, arms and legs flailing. Delta surged forward, her mouth clamping shut on the other end of the bubble. Turning on her feet she smacked it with her tail, sending it sailing upwards through the air.

Cubone and the bubble collided. Cubone bounced ounce, sailed into the air, bounced on the bubble again, not much higher this time. The last bounce brought him in, cradling him until the bubble brought him back down to the ground. It popped as Cubone scrambled off, scrabbling for the two bones that lay on the ground.

“Cubone,” Skylar started, stopping only when Delta leapt in front of her. Cubone grabbed its bones and took off, hustling as fast as it can with one large bone weight down its side. They watched it go. Only when it disappeared in the bushes further down the back alley did Skylar turn to face Bowie.

Her eyes were hard emeralds. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t helping you,” Bowie said before Skylar could open her mouth. “I was helping him.” She pointed over Skylar’s shoulder in the direction Cubone had run. “He wasn’t mad, he was scared—”

“Yeah, I know!” Skylar snapped. Bowie snapped her jaw shut and turned away, muttering something to Rowan. Skylar ignored her, doing her best to shake off the guilt pooling in her stomach.

She didn’t need the explanation. She knew all about fear turning into anger. Sometimes, when there weren’t other options available, you had to focus on the one emotion that kept you going.

Chapter Text

FIVE | Turning Over a New Flame

Shit!

Literally. And on her favorite shoes - the pink ones! God, she hoped it wouldn’t stain. It’d be a nightmare to wash out!

Balancing on a wobbly leg, Bowie lifted her foot from the squishy pile. The squelch from the suction release made her nose wrinkle and the following smell nearly bowled her over. Ripe, rich, and pungent, there was no mistake: she really put her foot in it.

Again.

She released a groan skyward, setting pidgey into flight in the distance. How did she miss that? How did she step in it? Why didn’t she smell it? Why was it so big?

The flurry of questions ravaging her mind came to a crashing halt, piling up against one another at the sight of her.

Mollie’s dark eyes gleamed from across the fields. She stood stock-still, arms crossed, mouth working on a wheat head between her stark white teeth. She bared them when her lips pulled back into a wide, goading smile. Bowie’s breath came out all at once, a disbelieving huff.

Oh, that heifer!

Mollie’s shoulders bounced in what Bowie could only guess was a proud cackle. Bowie stuck out her tongue, wagging it around only to recoil when the putrid taste she didn’t want to name hit her a second time. She scrubbed her tongue against the back of her hand, rubbing away as much of the scent as she could. That was the easier fix. Her shoes would need more water than that to get clean again.

Hopping to the side, she braced her hand against the rough wood of the barn wall and surveyed the damage. The excrement clung to the pink canvas, covering the hearts laying on the side in a cute, curvy swoosh. The hearts on the tongue were spared, as well as her lavender socks. But the cream cords of her shoelaces, made to repel water, withstand abrasion, typical wear, heat, and corrosion, were a goner. Something told her the manufacturers never considered someone stepping in literal shit when they bragged about their capabilities.

Maybe they weren’t as tough as the boots everyone else wore, but they were so cute! And functional. She needed something to carry her on her journey; who said she couldn’t make a statement at the same time? It was a splurge but, at the time, she was confident the money she earned from defeating other trainers would continue to flow.

Finding others to battle had never been a problem. She knew that look in challengers’ eyes when they sized her up. They were blinded by the pinks and purples she gravitated towards, the sparkling polish on her nails, the length—or lack thereof—of her shorts. She liked the colors, she liked having constellations on her fingers, she liked being able to move around without restriction.

They saw someone soft and weak; that tended to be their downfall. Everyone had one at some point. She just didn’t expect hers to be so harsh.

“Everything okay out here?” Zenith peeked around the open door to the barn.

Pasting on a smile, Bowie straightened and spoke to him over her shoulder. “All good!” She flashed him a thumbs-up. “I was going to get some more pokémon food when I stepped in a bit of…something.”

Zenith’s eyes dropped down to her shoes. His lips twitched in the corners. “Another casualty,” he said following a tsk. “Give me a second. I’ll get you the those.”

Nodding her thanks, Bowie rested her back against the barn wall and let out a long breath. A couple of the other volunteers walked by, clutching brooms with one hand and giggling into their palms with the other. Bowie smiled, which only had them laugh again. Closing her eyes, she let her head fall back against the barn with a thud.

There went her good first impression. After the disaster of a morning, she thought getting on Zenith’s good side would be the best course of action. Skylar was already a lost cause. Her attempts at conversation on the ride back from town were met with the clenching of Skylar’s jaw and pale-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. And when she tried again when they returned to the sanctuary, Skylar slammed her door so hard it rattled the truck. She probably would've lost a finger if she tried to stop her.

Bowie switched tracks after that, diving right into the tasks she’d been assigned for the day. Maybe if she worked harder, Skylar would see that all she really wanted to do was help! And if she worked hard enough, that would have to make up for everything! Rowan jumped right in as well, taking his time walking up and down the rows of vegetables and herbs in the back garden, watering them. He was such a good boy, sticking by her. If only the rest of her team did the same. If only she hadn’t let them down.

The initial sputter of water sent a spray across her ankles, making her flinch. It was cold, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the morning sun. She nearly fell over, jerking away from the stream as Zenith fiddled with the nozzle; it clicked into place after a few twists.

“Here,” he said, holding the hose out to her. His expression was neutral, but there was a hint of something in his eyes—sympathy, maybe? Or was it just mild amusement?

“Thanks,” she murmured, taking the hose. Water gushed out in a clear, powerful arc, splattering against her shoe with a force that rattled her hand. She angled the stream, watching the clinging mess wash away. The pink of her shoe emerged, stained but recognizable. At least that was easy.

Zenith lingered for a moment; hands shoved in his pockets. The sun bounced off the shiny pieces of his leg. His weight lay to one side; when he turned, Bowie caught the wince on his face before his muscles eased, falling back into a look of focus. He hesitated at the doorway, fingers drumming against the chipped paint. “Do you mind helping me with something when you’re done?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Sure! No problem! I’ll be right in!” Bowie capped off her confirmation with a salute. Zenith’s eyes squeezed in the corners, just slightly, and he disappeared once more. With the shoe now somewhat clean, Bowie let go of the nozzle, shutting off the water with a gurgle. Perfect timing!

Shadows stretched out as she walked back inside the barn, her wet shoe squeaking with every step. Having soaked footwear was one of the worst feelings in the world but she’d take water over a pile of poop any day.

“Don’t move too fast,” Zenith called out from somewhere in the back. Bowie halted at his words and his hand jutting out in her direction, palm flat. He knelt by one stall, sitting back on his heels. His jaw sat clenched and, for a second, she saw Skylar in his face. The same squinted eyes, the same sharp jawline, the same stiffened posture. At least it wasn’t because of her this time.

Around them the barn buzzed with the hum of life: the soft snores of a sleeping rhyhorn, the rustle of hay as nidoran♂ and nidoran♀ burrowed, and the soft lowing of tauros; the lone slowpoke didn’t make a sound as it stared blankly at the wall.

Something rustled in the stall before Zenith. Heavy pants and thick scrabbling against the concrete floor were punctuated in with the slam of something heavy against the wood. Sour saliva collected by her throat; her gulp audible as she took tentative steps forward. Zenith lowered his hand on her approach and licked his lips.

“What’s goin' on?” Bowie asked.

Zenith’s eyes flickered toward her. “We have a new guest.”

“Really?” A new guest could be anything! Maybe something cute like an emolga or a jigglypuff or a spheal!

He nodded. “She came while you were out.” A low growl rumbled from inside the pen, and Bowie instinctively took a step back. “Don’t be scared.”

Easier said than done. When her eyes landed on the guest, her muscles tensed, ready to take her right out the barn.

It emerged from the shadows—sleek, black fur; crimson eyes flickering like embers; two fangs protruding from her upper jaw; a cracked stylized skull attached to its forehead.

She’d seen this pokémon in her nightmares.

A houndour.

It stalked forward, nose twitching, before settling back on its haunches. The creature’s gaze met Bowie’s; foreboding and fixed. A shiver ran down her spine.

“Don’t worry,” Zenith said gently, noticing her hesitation. He shuffled closer to the stall; the houndour watched him with an intensity Bowie found unnerving. “She’s not going to hurt you.”

“Right,” Bowie said, willing her voice not to shake, fidgeting with her fingers. Dark type pokémon always made her uneasy. There was something about their unpredictability, the way they seemed to embody shadows and nightmares. It made her feel small and powerless. But it was the metal contraption around its mouth, strapped down to its head that had Bowie’s heart racing.

“That’s…” She barely squeezed the word out.

“A muzzle.” Zenith spoke so matter of fact, he sounded as if he made a lazy comment about a passing cloud.

“But…why?” Bowie sank to her knees, weakness at the sight of the houndour or the shock settling in, she couldn’t pinpoint.

“People don’t understand dark pokémon.” Zenith extended his hand toward the houndour, who sniffed his fingers through the bars attached to her face. “They see them as, well, dark. And dangerous. Especially houndoom and mightyena. Which isn’t remotely true. Houndour especially are very loyal pokémon. But people tend to see the skull and…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. She understood. The fear itching at the back of her neck, putting a tremble in her hands, begging her muscles to move move move filled in the blank for her.

But…to muzzle one?

“Why didn’t…um…couldn’t you say something?”

He ran a hand over the houndour’s head, and the Pokémon closed its eyes, leaning into his touch. “Returning is hard, no matter the reason,” he said following a long sigh. “If I judged every person for every reason they bring a pokémon to us, I’d shatter the trust we build here.”

“But—”

“I’m not happy with the fact someone did this, Bowie.” His eyes were on her now, softened compared to the steely gray from before. “But the thing about this, about what we do here”—he spun his finger in a circle in the air—"we want the best for the pokémon, but we also need to want the best for people too. I can only think people do the best with what they have, even if that looks different to you and me. We’re awarded that courtesy; I have to extend the same.”

Her lips pressed into a line, stopping the fiery “That’s bullshit!” from rocketing out her mouth. She already stepped on Skylar’s toes; she didn’t want to step on Zenith’s either. She had nothing else to do, nowhere else to go. And pissing off the hand that literally fed her would be dumb. But still! Didn’t they have principles?

“What’s her name?” Bowie asked instead.

Zenith flashed a smile. “Hotdog.”

A laugh shot out of her; she clapped her hand over her mouth as the houndour slinked backward at the sound. “I’m sorry. I kind of love that.”

“Sky named her when she first came here.”

“When she first…” The smile slid off Bowie’s face as his words settled in, chasing away lingering amusement. “Oh?”

“She’s a frequent flyer. We get someone who promises they can care for her, meet all her needs. She goes and…inevitably she comes back.” His mouth twisted to the side. “Her newest owner named her Anubis, but she still responds to Hotdog it seems.”

“How many times has she come back?”

“This her fourth time back with us, unfortunately.”

“Will you try to put her up for adoption again?”

“…We’re going to give it one more shot and if that doesn’t work out…. Well, we have other options. She’s been through a lot; she has a lot of love in her. But you know what I think?”

Bowie’s eyes flickered between Zenith and Anubis. She swallowed, unsure of what to say. “What?”

“I think she’s just scared,” Zenith said, his tone softening. “Every time she’s taken to a new home, she’s thrown into an unfamiliar place with strangers. New smells, new routines, new expectations. She needs time to adjust, to learn she’s safe. But, unfortunately, not everyone has that amount of time.”

Bowie’s chest tightened. She glanced at the pokémon again, this time noticing the tension in her body, the way her eyes darted from Zenith to Bowie and back, the way her ears lay pulled back. Alert.

Bowie knew that feeling—of being out of place, uncertain, trying to find her footing in a world that expected so much.

“Do you think…” She unpeeled her dry tongue from the roof of her mouth. “Do you think she can learn to trust again?” she asked.

Zenith smiled, a small, hopeful curve of his lips. “I do. But it’ll take time. And patience. Thankfully, we have a lot of that to go around.” He stood, brushing the dirt from his hands. “Sometimes, the ones who seem the toughest to reach are the ones who need someone to believe in them the most.”

Anubis lifted off her haunches, shook her head, and walked away from the gates. It was then Bowie saw it, the gaping nothingness.

Anubis was missing an eye.

Ribbons of steam danced and curled from the surface of the pale green water (thanks to a green pokéball bath bomb buried at the bottom of her bag she forgot about). The ylang ylang scent was supposed to be relaxing but Bowie was anything but relaxed.

After a long day of trying to round up the herd of skiddo, avoiding Mollie, fighting with the blanket-eating washing machine, skimming and checking pH levels of the pond, and mopping the floor of Intake after an expelling mishap with the skitty, a bath was heaven to her sore muscles. But it didn’t do anything to ease the heaviness in her chest. Or the weight of Skylar’s words on her mind.

“My job isn’t fun! It’s hard work! I can’t just go breezing through it all acting like nothing matters!”

“That’s not fair.”

“Your head’s up in the freakin’ clouds!”

Bowie groaned, slipping further in the water, the level rising to rest beneath her chin. Why’d she have to go and say that? They were having a great morning too! They shared fruit puffs and went shopping! Friends did those kinds of things; and Skylar was less…prickly about it. They were making progress! Then she had to go and open her big mouth.

“Better than it being stuffed up my own ass!”

How could she have said something so stupid? Okay, yes, maybe she stumbled upon the sanctuary and saw all the pokémon and thought it was so cool to have so many different kinds around. Who wouldn’t? She got to cuddle and squeeze little baby skitty! What could be so tough about a place like that?

But then she saw that houndour…

How could someone take her and then dump her over and over again? And how could Zenith and Skylar just take them back without batting an eye? Dark pokémon weren’t exactly her favorite; she tended to avoid them—if running in the opposite direction could count as avoiding—and they weren’t on her list to add to her team. Even then, she couldn’t imagine just dropping one of her pokémon for some frivolous reason.

She sank lower, mouth disappearing below the water line. The long exhale out her mouth sent bubbles rippling across the surface.

Was it easy for them to drop her?

The faces of her old team pushed to the forefront of her mind, with their wide eyes and expecting smiles (those that could show smiles anyway). They were so trusting. With Rowan taking the lead, they formed a quick unit, making their way through the region and the gym circuit. There were some growing pains, of course, but they managed to find their stride.

It was supposed to be fun and exciting. A new adventure! Traveling! Challenging gyms while making new friends! She didn’t want everything to be so serious, the world was wide with so many opportunities; she had all the time in the world to be serious. She couldn’t live that way, so she developed a training style fit for them.

It revolved around fun games they could play and engaging drills she could run. And she saw the results! They moved past the first few gyms and defeated every trainer in their way and made sure to celebrate every victory. They always thrived under her lighthearted approach—until they hadn’t.

“Rowan?” Water splashed over the side of the tub as she turned, leaning over the edge. Rowan opened an eye from where he sat nestled in a pile of towels. Her whole body sighed at the sight of him. Good. He was still there.

The humid atmosphere and the low lights of the bathroom were a sedative for him. The moment he entered the room he made a bed for himself, settled in, and opened his flower bud. Beads of water gathered on his thick leaves, reflecting the dimmed lights like glitter. “How come you stuck with me when I decided to leave?”

Rowan opened his other eye, stretched, and unfurled a thick cord of vine, patting it against the top of her head.

“Ivy, ivysaur. Saur,” he said, reassuring her.

Pressure built behind her eyes, and she pressed her lips together, sniffing as he dragged the vine down her cheek and rubbed in circles. “But…I let you down!”

Rumbling in disagreement, Rowan shook his head and patted her cheek again. An earthy fragrance seeped off his vine, familiar and comforting. Her heart swelled and she brought a hand up to her eye, brushing away the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. “Thanks, Ro. I’m so glad to have you here.” She reached for him, and he nuzzled into her palm. “I know I’ve made some mistakes. But I want to fix them. If I can show Skylar and Zenith I’m all in, maybe the rest of the team will see it too.”

“Tomorrow will be my fresh start.” Bowie pulled the last blanket from the dryer. She hugged it to her chest, humming as the quick fading warmth spread through her clothes. Once cool, she gave it to Rowan who had it folded and added it to the stack in no time. Before heading to bed, she wanted to finish the last of her assignment for the day. “If I can’t tell Skylar how sorry I am, I can show her.”

Following her around the sanctuary with an apology at the ready only got her short words and a clipboard in response. Which was okay, Skylar was working after all.

However, even after volunteers went home and they shut down for the day, Skylar busied herself with Zelus chopping and separating vegetables they harvested and then locked herself away in Zenith’s office to sort through their filing. Zenith explained she had a hard time turning off her work brain.

That’s when it hit her: a snack break! Everyone loved snack breaks! Skylar couldn’t say no to poké puffs! She had all five seasons of the show recorded! (Not that Bowie snooped.) With Zenith’s permission, and Zelus’ help, she whipped up twelve perfect poké puffs if she did say so herself (it would’ve been a baker’s dozen, but Apollo snuck in and slurped one up when her back was turned.)

She left them out to cool down while she and Rowan took care of getting the blankets ready for the next day. Now that the blankets were finished, the poke puffs should be ready as well.

“She can’t say no to these, right?” Bowie asked, waving the pan under Rowan’s nose. He shook his head, a big smile on his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll save the mocha one for you.” For some reason, the ivysaur really enjoyed the bitter taste beneath the hints of chocolate. She made the mistake of letting him try a coffee once; it took hours for him to settle down. But his grass attacks did seem to have an extra boost looking back on it.

It was settled. She carried the tray while he carried the basket. They stopped by Intake, dropping off the towels, and then made their way upstairs. The wood squeaked and creaked on their ascent, making Apollo’s ear twitch and his eyes crack open where he lay in the hall. A lone sock sat clutched between his teeth. His nose twitched and he pushed up on his front legs.

“Hey, you’ve had your taste already,” Bowie said, wagging her finger. Apollo whined, dropping the sock. He pawed at the ground and his ears lowered. She giggled. “I’ll make some for you with tamato berries later. How about that?”

“Arc!” Apollo woofed, tail wagging. The curtains on the nearby windows billowed upwards due to the strong gust. Bowie held a finger to her lips and Apollo lay back down.

Low gold light spilled out from beneath the office door. Bowie sucked in a breath, steeled her nerves, and rapped her knuckles on the door.

“What?” Skylar’s muffled voice pushed through the wood.

Taking that as permission to enter, Bowie waited for Rowan to twist the knob for her to enter. Books covered nearly every surface of the floor around the large wooden desk in the room. Some stacked up high, a few left open on random pages, and others crowded a bookshelf by the lone window. Picture frames lined the edge of the desk, the backs facing the door. A lone lamp lit the room from the bulb in a bellsprout shaped head. Skylar lifted her eyes from the desk.

She didn’t appear mad or annoyed or too busy, so Bowie pressed on. As she rounded the corner of the desk, she spotted an open manila folder with sheets of paper fanned out along the surface. Near the base of the lamp sat a small, white bottle. Delta quickly grabbed her attention, curled up on Skylar’s lap, tail languidly undulating like a cresting wave.

“Um, I thought you might be hungry. I brought you a snack! If…if you wanted…something…” Skylar stared at her, unblinking behind round, thin, metal framed glasses, though her eyebrows moved a touch closer together. Bowie tried to read her face but got nothing back. Not even confusion. In fact, she almost looked like a slowpoke, staring through her. “They’re poke puffs,” she continued after clearing her throat. Pushing the tray closer, she wiggled it from side to side. “I made them myself. Well, Zelus helped too."

Delta lifted her head, peered at the tray and leaned forward. At the last second, she stretched downwards, squeezing between the space of the tray and Skylar’s lap. The pictures on the desk rattled from Skylar shoving it to push back her chair. The wooden legs scraped against the dark floor. “Oh, shoot—close the door!”

But it was too late. Delta darted around Bowie’s legs and slipped past Rowan, out into the hall. Bowie grimaced, uttering “Oops, sorry” as Skylar groaned. Somewhere down the hall came a light, bubbling laugh.

“It took forever to corner her in here,” Skylar mumbled.

Bowie tore her eyes away from the door. “Why did you need to trap her?"

“I was trying to give her ear drops.” Skylar shook the bottle as if to emphasize her point.

“Oh.” Bowie blinked. “Why?”

“Chronic ear infections.”

“Oh.” There had to be something else she could say. But nothing came to mind. Thick silence stretched between them. Bowie was aware of every slow second dragging through it. Her eyes dropped down to the table. She motioned to the papers with her elbow. “What’s this for?”

“Anubis’ file. I'm trying to weed through her previous homes to see if I can pull enough information to find her a better home.”

“Your dad said you named her Hotdog.” Bowie tried to smile.

“I was ten.”

“Ah.” Skylar’s eyebrow popped up as Bowie's smile fell. It was better than ‘oh’. Bowie offered the tray again. Skylar glanced at it, then at Bowie’s face, then at the table in front of her. “You’ll have to take a break at some point.” But Skylar didn’t move. Bowie huffed. “I just want to—”

“Help?” Skylar asked. She made finger quotes around the word and scoffed. “I caught onto that. That’s all you’ve been ‘trying’ to do.”

“Because you won’t let me! What’s the point of having volunteers here if you don’t want them to actually do anything?”

Skylar yanked the glasses off her nose; they clattered onto the desk as she rubbed her face, digging fingers into the corners of her eyes. “One”—Skylar extended her thumb— “you’re not really volunteering considering you never filled out a form nor did we do a background check on you. You just haven’t left.” Bowie waved her away. Details. She could fill out a form. “Two”—her forefinger joined her thumb—“you’re just…barging into things and that’s not entirely helpful to me.” Okay, Skylar had her there. But a lot of time was wasted when people stood around to think too much. “Three”—up went her middle finger—“you don’t really know how to read a room. This whole thing”—she spun her finger in a circle in the air—“it’s delicate and you need to be able to assess every situation and people’s needs to do what’s right for them and for the pokémon.”

“Well…no one knows what they’re doing right away, right?” She was living proof of that. “And…and if you train me, then, well, you’ll get another worker like you.”

“Because my head’s shoved up my ass?” Skylar asked dryly.

Bowie let out a nervous chuckle. “I shouldn’t have said that. And I’m sorry! But I think I get it. I mean, with Anubis coming back like that…it can’t be easy having to take her back and send her out and do it all again. And you have to do it so many times. You don’t want to let them down.”

More silence. Skylar gathered up the papers on the table, tapped them against the surface, and slipped them into the manila envelope. After setting it aside, she twisted in the chair, one arm draped over the back. “Bowie—”

“My friends call me Bow.”

Skylar clicked her tongue. “….You realize you don’t get paid doing this, right?” Okay, baby steps on the nicknames. No big deal. “It’s a lot of thankless work. Physical wear and tear. And that’s not including the emotional and mental burnout.”

“I can handle it.”

She squinted. “You could do whatever you wanted as a trainer." She waved her hand in the direction of the window "…Go anywhere you want.”

Bowie tightened her grip on the tray. “I want to be here,” she insisted. The firm tone to her words surprised her. Skylar remained unflappable.

“Why?”

“This is…” What? Her chance to change people’s minds about her? Where she needed to be? The most solid plan she’d had in her entire life? All the above? “This feels right. Like I was in the right place at the right time. Especially with the skitty. It felt so good getting the skitty and bringing them to safety. I’ve never felt anything like that before.” She’d won plenty of battles, even defeated a few gyms, but those victories couldn’t touch what they were doing here.

“Okay, I could have waited a bit more with the cubone, but you were in trouble. I mean, you kinda ran off without a plan yourself…” Skylar bobbed her head from side to side. She spun a pen between her fingers. “I think we make a good team. Or we could, anyway. …Your website says you give second chances, that pokémon deserve them like people do. Just…give me one more chance. I’ll stay out of your way and just do the social media stuff. You can even give me a trial run. But…what you and your dad are doing, it could change so much for a lot of people and pokémon. I want to be a part of that. I want them all to feel like I did. I want to give that to others.”

Skylar pinned then between her first and middle fingers, making it come to a sudden stop. Her eyes closed in a slow blink, and she eased her shoulders down from her ears. Following a heaving sigh she said, “I’d be stupid to turn away someone so…enthusiastic...”

Bowie sensed she had another word in mind to use but that didn’t matter. She squealed and drew her into a hug; Skylar’s arms stayed stiff by her side. “You won’t regret this! I promise! You’ll see! We’ll be the best of friends!” Skylar said something that sounded like “Wanna bet?”. Bowie must have heard wrong, after all Skylar’s face was muffled against her t-shirt.

The girls separated and Bowie finally gave into her growling stomach. Wiggling her fingers, she surveyed the tray of puffs, settling on the pink whipped one. It looked delicious! She reached for it only to jerk her hand away, mouth dropping open while the quick sting faded.

“…That one's mine,” Skylar said with a small shrug. She pulled the puff apart and popped it into her mouth, chewing around a shadow of a smile.

Chapter Text

SIX | Make a Run for It

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Fish Delivery – Follow up
Date: May 24th, 3:27am.

Cousin – Father says the fish delivery arrived on time. I’m glad we could be of service. Please let us know if you’re in need of any further assistance.

I see your website is coming along – it's nice to know you’re finally investing in yourself to bring yourself up to the right level.

Never forget you’re running a business; you need to take control and present yourself in a way that invites success.

P.S. the Summer Solstice Festival is coming up soon, yes?

----

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Thank You
Date: May 24th, 6:00 am.

Skylar,

Thanks to you and your father for the flowers. They were a big surprise and are deeply appreciated. Having fresh flora around has been a big hit with visitors. They’ve been happy to have something new to bring to the Tower to help pay their respects. (We did have a couple casualties; Nidorino liked them so much he wanted to hold onto them eternally and internally it seems. The rest we managed to salvage).

As per your inquiries: it has been quiet here; I haven’t heard any news about trespassing or malfeasance in or around the Tower within the past week. The remaining spirits have mostly settled and I’m certain they would have prevented anyone threatening to upend the balance. No Rocket activity has reared as well, all is calm.

I’m confident you will come to the right conclusion and take the necessary steps that is in the best interest for the cubone.

Please keep me posted on your progress.

Mr. Fuji

----

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Order Confirmation #PKM-0937214
Date: May 24th, 6:17 am.

Skylar Daniels,

Thank you for your purchase! The following magazines have been added to your subscription bundle:

Pokémon Journal
Rolling Golem
Mandibuzz
BELLOSOM! Magazine
Traveler

The following subscriptions have been renewed:

Coordinator Monthly
Pokémon Fan
Pokémon Researchers Monthly
Fidough & Wynaut
Bounsweet
The Smolive Journal
National Terrestrial
Kanto Living
Exposure

The following subscriptions have been cancelled:

Murkrow’s Bazaar
Soigné
The Rustic Woman
Metropolitan

----

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
CC: [email protected]
Subject: Appointment Reminder: Physical Therapy Associates
Date: May 24th, 8:02 am.

Hi Zenith Daniels,

We are confirming your appointment with Dr. Adrian Proctor on 6/15 at 10:30am.

To help us provide outstanding service, please click here and fill out the form prior to your appointment. This will speed up the time of the appointment while waiting to be seen.

Please click on the attached file “appt.ics” to add this appointment to your calendar.

Please be advised that 40 pokédollars will be charged for cancellation or no-show appointments if you do not give 24 hr notice!

----

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: HI!!!!
Date: May 24th, 8:17 am.

SKYYYYY! 👋🏻

Just wanted to test to see if my email’s working! 📨

Also, I know you wanted me to fill out the official volunteer form 📃and I know you’ve been asking me for the last week! 🗓️ Well I finally did it! I know you gave it to me on paper, but I think it’d be better if you guys moved it over to an electronic system! That way if any information needs to be changed it can be updated super-fast! ✅

I put you guys down for the address and emergency contact. Hope that’s cool!! 👍🏻

🎀 Bowie 🎀

P.S. Do miltanks hold grudges? 🤔

----

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: HI!!!!
Date: May 24th, 8:19 am.

Received.

P.S. Yes

Skylar Daniels (She/Her)
Rescuer
Sunrise Sanctuary
“Reach for the sky.”

“Any updates?”

“Negative. Our patrols covered the areas you marked. Everything is as it should be.”

Humming, Zenith shifted his weight on his heel. His chair swiveled from side to side, emitting slow and steady creaks.

“You got absolutely nothing?”

“Negative. No sign of trouble. We asked around and no one’s seen anything out of the ordinary. Just a few lost kids.”

That certainly wasn’t out of the ordinary. The terrain around the Four Corners was nothing but trees, trees, and more trees. The forests were thick, untouched by many as those travelling between them tended to stick to the normal paths between cities. Those with a little more adventure in their bones, and a little less sense in their heads, ended up needing extractions within a few hours. Not just from being turned around with very little supplies, but because the pokémon living within weren’t the friendliest sort.

With very little human interaction, their territory was something they didn’t budge on.  And they made sure everyone knew it. Someone coming through with the swagger of a few won badges and a team to back them up didn’t stand a chance against their ferocity. The day would give anyone a little reprieve with the sunlight breaking through and the weaker pokémon grazing. But once nightfall came, well, that’s when the strength of their will would be tested.

“Were they okay?”

“Of course.” A low chuckle crackled through the line of the phone and Zenith could almost see the grin on the voice’s face. “Nothing but a few bruised egos and maybe some soiled pants.”

“Aw, c’mon Jack, cut them some slack.” Despite his admonishment, Zenith allowed himself a smile at his unintentional rhyme. “Not everyone can be as brave as you. In fact, I remember just how brave you were when we were assigned Rock Tunnel to patrol.” Navigating the pitch-black darkness without light sources, only relying on their instincts and training was their only way out.

“You’re right. Not everyone can be as beneficial as I when it comes to.”

“Yeah, no one could scream quite like you.” The fluttering of zubat’s leather wings and the grinding of rock against rock from onix slithering through crevices had him tense from the moment they descended to the second floor on a rickety ladder that had seen better days. Every small noise, every scritch of nails, every hint of chatter had Jack testing the limits of his vocal chords. Zenith wouldn’t have gone through it with anyone else. Jack had always been by his side.

“Echolocation. It worked in the end, didn’t it?” Zenith laughed. Jack’s spirit was unflappable, even after all this time. “Like I said, I don’t know the meaning of the word failure.”

“Whatever.” Easing out a sigh, Zenith grabbed a red, rounded cylinder-like object sitting on his desk. The plastic was smooth in his palm. A short antenna sat encased in the top. The circular clip at the bottom sat empty; it’s two short, smooth prongs bit into his palm. He tossed it in the air and caught it with ease. Tossed it and caught it. “So there’s no Rocket activity, huh?”

“Not a thing.”

That should be good news but it made him frown. Of course, he was happy to know that crime syndicate had seemingly disbanded for good after a resurgence in Johto a few years back, but it didn’t give him the answers he wanted. In fact, it gave him a potentially worse one. It came with his line of work but that didn’t mean it didn’t punch him in the gut every time. “So it’s looking more likely that cubone belongs to someone?”

“It could be wild.”

Perhaps. But that gut feeling told him something else. “They don’t come down this far to the cities. And Fuji’s been keeping an eye on things up in Lavender.”

“What about Viridian Forest?”

“They’re not usually from there but it’s not entirely out of the question.” Zenith tossed the cylinder into the air again. Rising sunlight peeked in through the smudged windows. Streaks and smears in the vaguely rounded shape of Apollo’s wet nose covered the surface. He’d thought about washing it, but knew it was futile; his buddy loved gazing out when the door wasn’t shut. And he didn’t want Zelus knocking things over in his haste to maintain cleanliness. “Especially with the migrations.”

Sometime in the last few years, Viridian City council members decided on a partial deforestation project for Viridian Forest. The aim was to make it easier for potential newbies on their journeys who decided to follow the “typical” gym path that had become popular after some trainers sighted it on their way to besting Kanto’s Elite Four. The less kids stumbling into Pewter City crying about being stung, getting lost, not having enough food or being homesick, the better; it was bad League optics. So they say.

The downside they didn’t foresee, or refused to acknowledge, was the migration of pokémon who’d lost their homes now needed a new place to settle. The mountains nearby were good for a few of them, but the rest needed similar lodgings. Napier Forest became their settlement, if Zenith could judge by the increase of roars and Its treeline bordered the sanctuary so he ended every day on a quick patrol. He didn’t have to worry about all of their inhabitants, in fact a few were very friendly and liked to visit the sanctuary, but the others ensured he brought Zelus along with him. While he was used to doing houseowrk at this stage in his life and hadn't been a fan of battling in his youth, Zelus could deal some damage when needed; he'd protect Zenith's family and the sanctuary in the blink of an eye.

“Idiots.”

“Have you thought about what I said yet?”

Zenith grimaced. He hadn’t meant to say his thoughts out loud but he couldn’t help it. He still maintained they made a dumb decision and he knew Jack knew that too. “You say a lot of things, Jackie. I tune it out when it’s not important.”

“Dude, everything I say is important.”

“That’s debatable,” Zenith said following a laugh.

“Quit changing the subject. You have good ideas, Zenith. These things wouldn’t be happening if we had proper road developments linking all the routes together. And think about what that could do for your town.”

“My town would like to keep itself the way it is.”

“That’s kinda the problem, isn’t it?”

Zenith dropped his heel on the ground, stopping his twisting. He stilled, staring hard at the phone. “We’re small. We look out for each other. What’s wrong with that?” The defense in his tone tightened his words.

“Nothing. It’s a beautiful thing.” A crackling signified Jack’s sigh. “I’m just saying, your town could thrive on tourism. Especially for that festival of yours. You all’d be making money hand over first. And your sanctuary? Imagine all the donations coming in from people passing through.”

“Jack—”

“Runing for mayor wouldn’t be a bad thing. It’ll give you something new to focus on.” Silence stretched between them as Zenith pressed his lips together. “I’m not asking you to abandon the sanctuary, I’m just asking you to think about it, okay?”

Zenith didn’t have time to answer; pounding footsteps grew louder until the office door burst open. Skylar leaned in and, upon spotting her father, her shoulders lowered from her ears. “You weren’t in bed,” she stated.

“Good morning to you too, sweetheart,” Zenith said, unbothered by his daughter’s direct statement.

“Good morning. You weren’t in bed.”

Extending the antenna of the cylinder, Zenith pointed it at her. “A few days ago you had a problem with me still being there, now you have a problem with me not? You need to make up your mind.”

“Sorry for worrying.” Skylar’s eyes lowered from his face to the object in his hand. “You know that doesn’t work on me, right?”

“I’d finally get you out of the house if it did.” She rolled her eyes in only the world-weary way a teenager could muster. Zenith laughed though it didn’t lessen the truth behind his words. “Jack’s on the line.”

Skylar scoffed. “Don’t give him any bail money.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve never been arrested.” Jack’s voice, while tinny, carried along the indignation wrapped around his words.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“Which means you still have time to work that stick out your ass.”

With twisted lips, Skylar’s cheeks puffed up until she resembled an angry jigglypuff. Crossing her arms she asked the phone receiver, “Don’t you have responsibilities to run from?”

“Don’t you have some buzz to kill?” After Skylar stuck her tongue out at the phone Zenith shooed her off with a wave of his hand. He pressed the antenna back into the machine while he pressed it against his palm. It sealed with a satisfying click.

“You’re a child,” Zenith said, pinching the bridge to his nose.

“She started it.” Jack’s retort did very little to change Zenith’s stance. “You know I love the kid,” he added following a few seconds of silence. Zenith didn’t need the reminder though he appreciated it all the same; it was nice to know he still had someone close in his corner after everything. “She’s still sticking around, then?”

Zenith hummed his affirmation. “She has this idea I’ll fall apart at the seams if she’s not underfoot.”

“It’s been six months.”

“I know, but I’m not into the idea of shoving her out the door. That’s my kid, y’know? This’ll always be her home.” He squeezed the machine between his hands, drumming his fingers against the shiny surface. “I just wish she’d realize there’s a big world out there.”

“Well, if she ever decides to make her way off the island, she could tag along with me for a few days. Get the lay of the land. Rough it. Get into a few scrapes. She could follow in your footsteps.”

“Think she’d find herself walking in circles if she tried that,” Zenith cracked. Jack’s laughter punched the air as Zenith’s eyes drifted down to his titanium limb, the foot encased safely in his worn work boot. Dirt and mud encased the tips and what remained of the laces were frayed and grayed. He’d bought them ten years ago; at least some things were built to last. Clearing his throat, he rubbed his eyes. “I’m gonna let you go, man. We have a tour coming in today.”

“Who’re you showing around?”

“A class from the elementary school. Each year they sponsor one of our skiddo so we bring them over at the end of the year to see where it lives and how we run. They get a field trip—”

“And you get a bunch of tiny hands to do your work for you.”

“That’s…a way of looking at it but I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Which is why you keep me around ‘cause I speak the truth.”

“You speak a lot of somethin’ but I wouldn’t call it the truth. Doesn’t smell like it anyway.”

“Ha ha. I’ll talk to you later, man. In a few weeks, I guess? I see you finally set up your appointment.”

Zenith frowned. Why did Jack have to say it like that? He had a lot of good reasons to reschedule his appointments. And this was the best he could get. Between the upcoming celebration on the first and the Summer Solstice Festival, June was one of their busier months. He certainly wouldn’t have picked it but his PT made it clear if he tried to reschedule again it would be months until he could be squeezed in, which he didn’t suggest.

“Better late than never, huh?” Jack continued.

“Sure, man. Talk to you later.”

Zenith jabbed the end call button and leaned back; the chair groaned beneath his stretch. He turned the machine over in his hand, the diamond-like logo on the back stared at him. He dragged his thumb across the surface and closed his eyes, remembering the first time he used it. Exhilaration fluttering like wings in his chest, sparking at his fingertips, accomplishment and satisfaction crashing through him like a thundering wave. Some days he missed it, the rush of being out in the field, being sent on missions, coming face to face with wild pokémon and needing to quickly decide the best way to tackle the situation. He’d never felt more alive.

But he had the sanctuary now and he knew better than others sometimes it was better to accept the curveballs life dealt. The strong waves of pride and satisfaction came in different ways—through the formation of new families, the look of safety and thanks in the rescue’s eyes, the peace taking over their bodies once they realized they were finally okay—and he wouldn’t trade that for the world.

He set the machine down on his desk, adjusted the picture of himself and Skylar—they sat on the fence line of the sanctuary with half startled, half amused expressions on their faces due to Apollo rushing the camera, a rocketing orange, black, and white blur taking over most of the snapshot—and went to work.

Snippets of conversation reached his ears the closer he got to the morning meeting. The typical catch-up of his volunteers mixed with excited chatter of having their first tour of the year. It was low stakes, but it was nice to know they were taking it seriously, taking their mission and their goal seriously. Zenith handpicked the volunteers himself; he’d never bring anyone in that didn’t truly want to be there or help make their world a better place for humans and pokémon alike.

“Good morning, everyone!” He greeted them with a big smile. He got smiles and bright eyes in return, as well as the front and back of Mr. Holloway’s newspaper but that was normal. The volunteers scurried to take their chairs, hands gripping mugs, tumblers, and take-away cups filled with coffee. Zelus slipped out of the room, his large hand gripping an equally large mug in the shape of a snorlax head. Beneath the heady scents of coffee and vanilla, Zenith smelled something buttery. Zelus was getting a head start on the treats for the visitors. This was going to be a good day!

A poke to his arm grabbed his attention. Skylar extended her hands, both gripping something: a glass filled with water in one and two white pills in the other. He emitted a soft sigh, leaned down, and kissed her forehead. With a quick toss, he popped the pills into his mouth and chased it with a gulp of water. At her satisfied smile, his energy returned.

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world to have his daughter care about him so much. He was lucky to still be around for her, after all.

With a loud clap of his hands, he was ready to face the day. “Alright team, let’s get started!”

Chapter Text

SEVEN | Skiddos and Don’ts

“Oh my gosh!”

“Look at them all!”

“They’re so cute!”

“Miss Bowie, he’s eating your shirt!”

Bowie turned on the balls of her feet and giggled at the sight of one of the many skiddo chewing at the knot on the back of her shirt. “Hey, that’s not food,” she chastised him. His tail wagged rapidly and he smiled around the knot. As Bowie reached back to brush him away, he let go and hopped from side to side, bleating.

Skylar surveyed the exchange a few feet away. It was best to let the kids get used to being around the pokémon without hovering. She could step in when needed and, so far, the kids listened to her when she went over the ground rules after their arrival.

They were wiggly and squirmy as she suspected; most were loud and eager to dive right in and a few hung back, watching from a distance but still equally captivated.

She understood; the sheer expanse of the sanctuary was enough to make her still take pause when she looked around. Sometimes she had to remind herself she lived there and got to be around so many different pokémon every day.

The team greeted the kids upon their arrival, lined up on the porch waiting for them to be unloaded. Zenith welcomed them with a big smile and promises of fun and a good learning experience. They were then broken down into separate groups to be toured around the sanctuary by a volunteer, each taking a station to then rotate to the next one until they had visited all of them; a picnic lunch was provided. They pulled out all the stops.

If they were lucky, maybe a few of the kids would grow up to volunteer there as well, if not at least do their part to bring human and pokémon unity if they decide to go down a different path.

“I told you the shirt was too big,” Skylar commented. Zenith insisted on them having matching shirts for events like this. Colored off yellow with Sunrise Sanctuary written on the front, accompanied by a little doodled sun dotting the I, and the word STAFF or VOLUNTEER on the back, all the shirts were reused from the year before. Skylar hadn’t had time to go through the inventory for extras or to order another in time, so Bowie was given an XL.

It didn’t deter her; she simply rolled up the hem until it reached her naval and tied the excess off behind her. A few of the other volunteers lifted their eyebrows at the sight but if Bowie noticed she didn’t let it show. She happily stepped forward when announced as “Miss Bowie” and took control of her group. Skylar was tasked to follow along with her as backup.

“It’s fine! I made it cute!” Bowie stood and struck a pose, holding up V signs by her eyes, as if that would prove her point.

Skylar merely hummed. It wasn’t entirely practical, the hemmed short and short shorts and sneakers—though it was a margin better than the layered gothic Lolita dress Chelsea, another volunteer two years older than Skylar, insisted on—but as long as Bowie got the job done, she could let it go.

And Bowie was doing a good job matching the kids’ enthusiasm as they went around the sanctuary. They weren’t afraid to ask questions when she also had a few of her own. It was still fun, but they did have jobs to do on top of it.

“Miss Skylar.” Skylar glanced down at the tug to the hem of her blue plaid long-sleeved shirt. While she liked the matching t-shirts, she liked keeping cool a little more. Summer would be upon them before they knew it. “Can I have more food?” The little girl with a large red bow attached to her swinging ponytail thrust her palms upwards, eyes wide.

Skylar knelt and poured a small pile of pokémon food into her palms. “There you go.” Lowering her voice to a conspiratorial tone she asked, “Do you want to know something cool about the skiddo?”

“Yeah!”

“They can use photosynthesis so they get most of their nutrients from the sun.” As she spoke a skiddo bumped into her side and nuzzled against her thigh. Skylar stroked along its neck; the leaves of its mane tickled her palm. “Which means they can go a long time without eating or drinking. But we like to give them food once a week to supplement the vitamins and minerals.” She lowered the cup to the skiddos mouth.

“Skiddo! Skid skid!” it cheered, little ears wiggling before stuffing its whole face into the opening. The two girls laughed.

“What’s photo…” The little girl’s lips turned down to a pout and her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to mouth and sound out the word. “What’s…photo-synnesis?”

Skylar chuckled. Close enough. “Photosynthesis. In simple terms, it’s when you convert the sun into energy or food.” Satisfied with that answer, the little girl scurried over to a clump of skiddo who jumped on top of each other to be fed.

A little boy took her place; his large amber eyes sparkled with wonder. “Miss Skylar, how many of them are there?”

“We have thirty-seven skiddo here and one gogoat; Bucky.” She pointed a few stalls down. At the mention of his name Bucky lifted his head, looked in their direction, snorted, and lay back down. She appreciated his effort. “He’s the leader of their herd. Wherever he goes, they follow. Whatever he does, they do too.”

Rhythmic thumping had her eyebrows collide and her eyes dart around until she found the culprit: one lone skiddo by the closed gate, repeatedly ramming his head against the wood. It made the little boy giggle. “See? Bucky’s likes to headbutt the pen to get our attention and it seems he’s passing that long as well.” She made a clicking sound with her mouth and the skiddo immediately stopped ramming and sat on its haunches; his annoyed, expression made her chuckle. “Did you notice anything different about Bucky when you first came in?”

Small arms shot into the air and a few kids spoke the answer in a broken synchronicity, “He has a metal leg!”

“That’s right. It’s called a prosthetic leg. That means his first leg was replaced with an artificial leg to help him with his mobility.”

“What happened to it?” Bowie asked, arm shooting straight into the air. The kids around her leaned forward, lips pressed together.

“He lost it.” That was the safest answer. The last thing she wanted to do was traumatize the kids. Bucky’s arrival wasn’t under the nicest of circumstances.

The boy blinked up at her, freckled nose wrinkled. “Is it playing hide and seek?”

“Not exactly,” she said following a laugh. Her heart warmed at his innocence. “Some people have two arms and legs, some people are born with just one, and some people lose them.”

“Miss Skylar if you have so many skiddo, do they all have names?” Another boy with large front teeth asked. When a few of the other kids tittered nearby about wanting to know the same, he stood tall and puffed out his chest.

“Of course! Each skiddo is as unique as you and me so they get names as well.”

“How do you remember them all?”

“You know how your teacher remembers all your names?” They nodded. “It’s like that. I want to make sure I know all of them too.”

“Miss Skylar, do you have a favorite?” Amber Eyes asked.

She shrugged. “All of them are my favorite.”

“You have to pick one!”

Kids and their firm ideals. “Well, we do have Maggie.” She motioned to the back corner where the skiddo in question lay with her head on Henry’s lap. Her heart squeezed at the sight: Maggie’s eyes were closed and a content smile sat on her face as Henry stroked her head. He held a matching smile. It was a nice change from the blank way he looked at her when she greeted him upon joining Bowie’s group. Skylar was happy to see his name on the list of the class visiting from the Pokemon Academy but he didn’t react much as they moved around the sanctuary, keeping his hands in his pockets and his face steady. She kept her interactions with him short in the meantime.

“Maggie was born blind and deaf, that means she can’t see or hear. But her sense of smell is very keen! She can smell when one of us is coming to feed her or snuggle with her, she can also use her smell to figure out where to go, what to stay away from, and who she’s playing with. She was very scared when she first arrived, but she’s been doing very well.”

The kids oohed and aaahed as they got closer. Maggie didn’t move, letting out a content sigh when Henry’s thumb stroked a spot behind her ear. The leaves on her mane and down her back was a lush green like the other skiddo, but hers were dotted with white specks. They’d been worried it was some sort of fungus at first; in the end, her dad chalked it up to an unexpected variant. She was beautiful all the while.

“That’s a big part of what we do here, we give pokémon a chance to thrive. Some can’t see, some are paralyzed, some have neurological disorders, but that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with them. It just means they need some more time, more patience, and more love and, pretty soon, they can live very full lives like you and me.”

The kids gathered near Maggie, talking among one another while raining pats and scritches down on her. The other skiddo flocked, nudging and bumping them while crying for attention. Bowie laughed, passing out more food, corralling some back her way. Good move. Skylar caught her eye and gave a single nod. Henry would’ve been buried in an earthy avalanche and a flurry of limbs beneath the kids’ eager advances. Bowie blinked, head tilting slightly, and nodded back.

A shrill whistle sounded off in the distance. Skylar’s head whipped around to the door at Apollo’s following howl. He’d never been great with high pitched noises. Zenith’s chuckled apology came after, along with his shouts of a station rotation.

“Okay everyone, it’s time to let them out and for you all to switch stations,” Skylar announced, hands going to her hips.

“Awww,” the kids chorused, their shoulders sagging.

“We’re going to the fields next for you to meet the miltank and some of the other sancutarians we have. And after that we’ll go to the garden at the back to pick berries. There’ll be enough time after lunch for you all to explore and play.”

Bowie nudged the girl with the red bow; her eyes sparkled with a challenge. “I’ll race you!”

The girl took the challenge. “I’ll beat you!”

“Bet you won’t! Loser has to give up their lunch cookie.”

“You’re on! Ready—go!”

The girl took off, laughing along the way as the tails of her bow flapped behind her. It set off a chain reaction of the other kids rushing to catch up with her and the skiddo following the food out the door. Bowie ran among the herd, her movements slower and more relaxed than the rest of giggling kids racing for the lead.

With the barn empty, Skylar moved around unlatching and releasing the other pokémon. Even with a tour they still needed to stick to their schedule.

The two nidoran hurried out, chattering along the way. The tauros came next, shaking his name while clip-clopping out the door. The slowpoke walked out backwards, his blank stare and ever-present empty smile trained hard in the direction of the back wall. The rhyhorn missing its horn almost went the wrong way upon leaving his pen; a few nudges to his rough side got him moving back in the right direction. It also left her with a tear in the knee of her jeans. Their newly returned houndour stayed curled in the back of her pen no matter how many times Skylar called to her. She’d try again later.

Cupping her hand to her neck, she lolled her head back, stretching and rubbing the tight muscle. A hot bath was in her future.

Turning, she came up short at Henry still sitting with Maggie on his lap. He should’ve left with the others, not that she blamed him too much. Getting a good snuggle in with the skiddo was very enticing but they did need to stay on schedule.

Skylar approached, keeping her pace light and careful. Maggie’s head turned in her direction and her smile widened, lighting up her sweet face. Okay, maybe Maggie was her favorite skiddo. “Hey Henry, are you having a good time?” Skylar formed the according phrases with her hands as she spoke, stumbling a little as she thought through the right gestures, motions, and placement.

He blinked at her, the smile easing from his face as his eyebrows furrowed. Did she sign too fast? After kneeling she asked again, making sure she moved her hands and fingers slower, pausing in between to think of better word choices, simpler. He nodded when she lowered her hands.

“I spoke with your mom a few days ago. She says you’re looking for a pokémon to help you. She’s looking into a psychic type.”

He nodded again.

“I suggested a few that I think would help.” When he didn’t react one way or another, she continued. “We’re thinking a mime jr., mr. mime, or an abra. They could be the best for you in the long run to help with communication. On both ends. They’ll be able to understand you or be able to read your mind and then can translate it in a way for your parents to understand using the same psychic wavelength, instead of needing to learn the body language of a different species.”

Henry made a noise and sat up from where he’d been nestled against the haymow. Startled, Maggie lifted her head, ears lowering as his hands and fingers moved in succession. Skylar bit her lip, training hard on the gestures he made.

“’What if I want a different one? I…think—know—what my mom says, but the pokémon is supposed to be for me, right?’ Well, yes, that’s true.” At her confirmation, Henry’s jaw tightened. Maggie’s smile disappeared and she nudged her nose against his arm. “’So why does my mom have to chose—choose, sorry—one for me?”

Skylar bobbed her head. He had a point there. Still… “There’s nothing wrong with having her input. She’s only looking out for you. It’s what parents do. It’s mega annoying sometimes”—she made a show of rolling her eyes; his eyes too, whether it was at her joke or at her attempt to relate she couldn’t discern—"but, well, they wouldn’t be parents otherwise, right?” Henry grunted. Skylar knew the feeling. “She means well.”

How many times had she heard that? It was her dad’s favorite phrase in all matters relating to her mom. And they’d been in reach for her to snap up at a moment’s notice, even though she’d shoved them away. Ugh.

Maggie bumped her head against Henry’s arm at Henry’s frown. “Skid…skidoo,” she muttered. Her voice carried a trembling rasp. Henry patted her head again, stroking her horn upwards. All at once a light filled Maggie’s cloudy eyes, her ears perked up, and she jumped up to happily trot in place. “Skiddo! Skiddo!”

“Give it a chance. If you don’t match with any of them, you can try another pokémon afterward,” Skylar said. “It wouldn’t hurt.”

Henry’s chest filled with his heaved breath, followed by a long sigh. He gave Maggie a look. Maggie bounced up on her front hooves again, beaming.

“You won’t regret it. I promise.” Skylar tapped her heart and winked. Henry nodded. “Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. You’ll see.”

With a sweep of her arm, Skylar motioned to the exit. Henry got to his feet, holding onto Maggie’s horn all the way. She pranced along next to him into the sunlight.

Bowie stared, transfixed as Zelus practically floated up and down the ladder to harvest the ripe pecha berries. He made it all look easy with his bulging muscles and mechanical motions. Grab, twist, pluck. Grab, twist, pluck. Within minutes his harvest bucket filled to the brim with the orange fruit, and he casually carried it as if it weighed as little as a joltik. He gathered up the ladder, moved onto the next tree in the back garden, and started again.

Show off.

“Hey buddy, do you think you could help me out over here?” Bowie asked, putting on her sweetest smile.

“Machoke, choke!” Zelus wagged his finger in her direction while simultaneously shaking his head. “Ma, machoke.” Then with a large, toothy, smug grin, he went back to grabbing more berries off the tree, alternating hands as if they were windmills. And, she swore, he flexed his muscles along the way.

“It’s okay, I can do it myself.” Even as she spoke the words with confidence, her shoulders sagged at the full branch above her. Maybe if she could get Rowan to use razor leaf a few times….

Her eyes scanned the expansive acreage in search of her ivysaur and found him walking along with the two miltank. They strolled at a leisurely pace, chatting about something. Mollie kept her arms behind her back, head tilted backwards and with her eyes closed. Nana, on the other hand, kept her eyes on Rowan, nodding every now and then with a sweet smile.

 They paused by the fence where Rowan extended one of his vines and plucked a white flower out of the ground. Nana’s eyes lit up and she clasped her hooves together when Rowan presented it to her. Cradling it to her chest, she reached out and patted Rowan’s head. His cheeks turned redder than a slugma.

How sweet!

Humming the wedding march, she turned back to the berries bobbing above her. The song faded on an off-key note and she blew a breath out the side of her mouth. Gripping her shoulder, she spun her arm in the socket, wincing at the taught pull of the muscle. Just push past the pain, Bo! She had to regain her dignity somehow.

The kids were ruthless with their taunts when they beat her out of the barn. Okay, so maybe she let them win but they didn’t have to brag about it so much. That little girl happily declared how she’d save Bowie’s cookie for last when lunch came around.

Bowie had to show them up when it came to the harvesting station. Besides, fair was fair and the little girl took it in stride when Bowie gloated about getting her harvest bucket finished before she and three other boys filled theirs.

So maybe they were younger than her, she couldn’t help that. There was nothing wrong with good healthy competition and she knew from experience the younger group could give them a run for their money.

If that youngster Joey came across her path again…

She sighed. Nothing good was going to come from wondering about how she’d do things differently. Those days were over.

Grimacing, she dropped her arm and let the burn in her shoulder ease as the seconds flowed. Did she rely on Rowan too much. Was that a bad thing? He was her first pokémon, her partner. And that was the whole point of being a pokémon trainer, wasn’t it? Making friends, battling gyms, travelling, and being there for one another?

She yanked another pecha berry; it was cool and smooth in her palm.

She’d never been able to hold onto one for so long. Daffodil, her clefairy, used to eat them like candy. Not that Bowie blamed her, she was susceptible to poison-types.

In fact, it was the berries in question that had them stumbling across one another in the first place.

She’d just gotten past the Pewter City gym and was on her way to Cerulean when they made at Mt. Moon. She’d quickly fallen in love with camping, loved sleeping under the stars and being serenaded by the nighttime chatter of nocturnal pokémon. Seeing a meteor shower on top of that? She couldn’t resist! The fact it was the only way she could get to Cerulean for their next gym battle was a bonus.

Rowan, a bulbasaur at the time, used his thick vines to help her climb a tree. Mt. Moon didn’t have suitable places for climbing but that didn’t stop Bowie. She had pokémon to meet and fun times to be had! Beating gyms along the way was just a formality.

The shower had just started when something by the cave entrance grabbed her attention. The elation filling her at the sight of the star-like pokémon, a clefairy, nearly had her falling back out the tree. The clefairy stood by the entrance to Mt. Moon, looked around, and shuffled past a few rocks until it pulled a pecha berry out from behind a rock jutting out the ground.

Bowie had a few on her thanks to a trainer she’d bumped into earlier, passing through to get to Pewter’s museum. He traded her berries for a few of her spare potions; he’d already gotten all his badges. He was training for the league.

Good for him but she mostly wanted friends to hang out with. And that cleafairy was going to be her new friend!

A short fall and a promise of unlimited berries later, and clefairy was added to her team. Her first new friend!

It stung when she was the first one to leave her.

“You’re pretty efficient.”

Yanked out of her memories, Bowie ducked her head between the ladder rungs, turning Skylar upside down. She leaned against the leg of the ladder, light blue eyes nearly identical to the clear sky above. Straightening up, Bowie rolled back her shoulders and pushed an easy smile onto her face. “Yeah, well, you know, it was tough at first but it’s all about getting into a routine.” She reached upwards again. Grab, twist, pluck. “You know, Zelus looks more like a machamp than a machoke while he does this. I don’t know how you compete against him.”

“Well, for one”—Skylar extended a finger—"he basically makes harvesting his workout, so we don’t get in the way of that. And for two”—she extended another—"we use clippers.” She snipped at the air.

Bowie stared. “You…huh!?” They use what now?

Without a word, Skylar grabbed the object in question hanging off the ladder, unclipping the carabiner attaching it to a thick steel wire rope. She clacked the opening a few times as if to prove her point. Sweat dripped down the side of Bowie’s face, rolling over her cheek and curled beneath her chin. The sun burned her skin as much as dawning realization did.

“…Have those always been there?”

“Mhm.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

Skylar shrugged. “I thought you saw them. Besides, you seem to have your own…”—she wiggled her fingers in Bowie’s direction—“Bowie way of doing things, I kinda wanted to see how far this would go.”

“I’m glad I amuse you.”

“I wouldn’t call it amusement.”

“What would you call it then?” The ladder clinked and clanked beneath Bowie’s steps as she descended, balancing the basket against her hip. Skylar took it from her, set it aside, and grasped her upper arm, steadying her, allowing Bowie to hop off the last rung.

“Morbid curiosity.”

“Ha ha.” Bowie wiped the sticky sap from the pecha berries on the sides of her shorts. Humming, she paused and then licked her palm. A sweet yet tangy taste clung to her tongue and lit up her tastebuds. Delicious! “Did they get all the fruit washed and sorted?”

That was the other part of the station; after gathering the harvested fruit they were to take the rest to Zenith and Delta to help wash and sort them. That must’ve gone by the wayside since Zenith was alone by the covered tables while the kids oohed and awed over the vaporeon basking under their attention.

“For the most part, but Zelus can cover the rest. Besides, it’s time for lunch.”

“Oh, thank god!” She was so hungry she could eat a mudsdale. Like the rest of the food she’d eaten over the last week, Zelus prepared it with the freshest ingredients. She couldn’t wait to see what he came up with.

The corner of Skylar’s lips twitched. “Get cleaned up a bit and I’ll find us a place to sit.”

Bowie’s ears perked up. Did she really say ‘us’? She didn’t have time to ask Skylar for clarification and thought better of shouting after her for it. What if she ended up changing her mind? Though, so far, Skylar didn’t seem the type to change her mind. Once it was set on something it was set; she had more fortitude than a golem’s skin. But, maybe like a golem, Skylar could shed her skin too and a calm, chill lunch on a nice day could be the way to jump-start the process.

Shoving her pinkies in the corners of her mouth, Skylar let rip a quick and high-pitched whistle. Her heart thudded in time with her boots slamming against the ground while running across the fields.

The kids surrounded the paddock ahead where loud bellows, huffed grunts, and the spine-tingling scrape of keratin against rock sounded. Most of them remained on the ground, peering through the slats of the fence, but a few of the boys stood up on the wooden beams, leaning closer for a better look.

Please don’t fall in. Please don’t fall in. Please don’t fall in. The thought ran through her head in a frantic cycle. Tauros was a rampaging pokémon; it didn’t need just its tails to spur it on into a near-unstoppable frenzy. Rhyhorn, by comparison, weren’t known as the most intelligent pokémon but they were solid and could do a lot of damage.

The thudding grew louder. Within seconds Dasher lived up to her name; her flaming hooves propelled her until she ran next to Skylar. Despite the apprehension taking charge of her body, a smile came to Skylar’s face at the sight of the rapidash. Nothing beat witnessing the grace and majesty of her up close.

They worked in tandem: Dasher sped ahead and turned in a quick, tight circle. Steadying her hand against her flank, Skylar swung her leg up and over Dasher’s back at the apex of her turn. Finishing the circular maneuver, Dasher and Skylar righted themselves and Skylar pressed her knees into Dasher’s side.

A quick leap over the fence had the two running up on the locked-in mass. The familiar exhilaration of moving fast as the wind fluttered in Skylar’s stomach. It was the closest she’d ever come to flying and that swooping

It came to a screeching halt a second later at the sight of the entangled and frustrated pokémon. She cleared the rest of the distance in three good galloping strides.

“Hey—calm down!” Her command fell on deaf ears as Pepper, the tauros, and Rocksteady, the rhyhorn, grunted and took fast, scrambling steps backward.

Rocksteady charged. Well, he tried to. Pepper’s extra weight slowed him down but the force of the two heavy pokémon hitting the wooden fence was still solid.

It shook and vibrated, flinging the boys on the fence to and fro while the others down below screamed. The boys, steady once more, whooped and hollered.

“Knock it off!” Pepper and Rocksteady didn’t hear that command either.

They twisted and turned, grunting and groaning while trying to get themselves unstuck. Skylar could tell it would be a difficult feat on their own; Pepper’s horn was lodged deep by Rocksteady’s neck. Each jerky movement had Rocksteady letting out a low groan.

Clicking out the side of her mouth, Skylar urged Dasher away from the rowdy pokémon. The rapidash side-stepped with high knees, her long legs elegant a contrast to the sharp stuttering steps to the other pokémon. Skylar needed her far away enough to not get hit while she came up with a plan.

That’s all she needed, some time to think. To shut out all the noise and rely on her training and listen to her gut.

Just relax, Sky. You can do this. The main thing was to get the two separated by any means necessary. Afterword she could assess and debrief with her dad. And then he’d see the sanctuary would be in her capable hands.

Thankfully with the two pokémon up close they couldn’t use the usual attacks in their arsenal. And even though they weren’t the same type, Normal-type pokémon weren’t affected by Ground/Rock-type too much; they had a better chance of tiring each other out sooner than getting too hurt.

That’s it!

“Okay, girl.” Skylar patted Dasher’s thick neck. The heat-less flames flickered around her hand, a strange yet comforting sensation of nothing and at the same time. “We’re going to wait for the right opening. Then I want you to use Ember, just to distract them, not hot enough to hurt. Then you’re going to push on Pepper with your back hooves until they come apart. But not a full-on kick. Got it? They should be tired enough after separation to not go after one another again.”

Dasher’s ears flickered back and forth. She was listening and keeping an eye on the tussling pokémon ahead of them.

Skylar’s muscles tensed, waiting for the right moment. Her eyes remained trained on them, going over her plan in her mind. Yes, de-escalation was the better option. The last thing she wanted to do was break their trust in her by using excessive force. That’s what brought them to the sanctuary in the first place.

“Rhy…rhyhorn!” Rocksteady growled; he scratched at the dirt with his two-clawed foot. Pepper snorted in response, his nostrils flaring with eyes narrowed down to pinpricks.

“Get ready.” Skylar’s fingers curled into the silky, strong hair along Dasher’s neck on either side of the flame.

She swallowed the little saliva remaining in her mouth. A trickle of sweat dripped down the side of her face. Easing out a slow, controlled breath, she leaned backward just slightly.

Dasher’s flames always flared right before using a fire attack and while it wouldn’t hurt her, she couldn’t say the same for her hair. It wasn’t her main priority in life but she would still like to keep it around.

Pepper and Rocksteady’s heads thrashed from side to side, their feet scrambled against the ground. They shuffled sideways, urging Dasher out the way. A hard twist of their heads to the side exposed more of Pepper’s embedded horn.

Now!

“Dasher—”

“Skylar!” Zenith stood tall by the face, his face hardened and clutching a rope in his hands. Once he had her attention, he turned it to Dasher. “Over!” he commanded.

Skylar didn’t have a chance to protest when Dasher followed orders and moved closer to the fence. The kids backed up upon their approach, eyes wide with. Except for the freckled little boy who had his arms crossed and a large pout on his lips.

“Move up.”

“Dad, I can do it!”

“Skylar.” She stiffened. How was it possible parents could turn their kids’ name into a foreboding warning? And did he have to do it now, in front of everyone? Cheeks burning, she turned away, avoiding Bowie’s soft eyes.

Dasher’s hair slipped through her fingers as she re-positioned closer to her neck. A muscle by Skylar’s jaw twitched.

She had a plan. She knew what to do. She had her opening, and he ruined it! What was the point of everything she did if he wasn’t even going to give her a chance? Doesn’t he trust me?

Stuffing her bubbling frustration down, she kept Dasher steady and Zenith settled on behind her. Dasher carried his added weight with ease, and, through his direction, they got closer to the locked-in pokémon. Their breaths came heavier, and their movements were slower. Skylar couldn’t help but notice if they’d waited a little longer she would’ve had her chance.

Tensions lowered as Zenith took charge. Once Dasher approached, he talked Skylar through throwing a lasso around Pepper’s free horn and, together, they pulled most of Pepper’s horn free. Rocksteady thrashed against the pain and Zenith called Rowan in to utilize his vines, holding him in place. A few more tugs and they were both freed, to cheers and applause from the kids.

As Zenith ushered the kids away, talking about how unpredictable a day at the sanctuary could be, Skylar led Dasher back to her stable where Dougie waited patiently with his mom. His hands flapped in excitement.

“You did a great job girl, thank you,” Skylar murmured, patting her flank.

Dasher let out a soft whinny, bumping into her side. Skylar moved towards her head, stroked her muzzle, and gave it a kiss. Dasher turned her head, flapping her lips against Skylar’s cheek to do the same.

The brush of her hair and whiskers tickled Skylar’s skin. She laughed and nuzzled her face into Dasher’s cheek. She smelled of smoke and sunshine.

“Sky, wait up. We have to talk.”

Skylar didn’t slow her pace. “It’s fine, Dad.” The last thing she wanted was her bruised ego to be poked.

“No it’s not.” His voice was closer and within a few strides her arm was in his hand, stopping her. “You should’ve waited for me.”

Whirling around, her fingers curled into fists by her side. “I told you I could do it. If you’d just given me enough time I would’ve had it handled.”

“And I don’t doubt that.” Clearly he did if he felt he had to step in. “What I did worry about, however, was your idea wasn’t entirely sound.” Skylar scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Did you think it all the way through?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, tell me your plan.” She recounted her thought process, why she reached her conclusion, and the steps she would’ve taken. His expression never changed as she spoke and by the time she finished her hackles raised. “Here’s the thing, let’s say you managed to get them apart. What would have happened if you fell off in the process?” Zenith didn’t give her time to answer. “You would’ve been too close. Either one of them could’ve trampled you. Pepper could’ve gored you. And you’d be lucky if it were that quick. Getting them free would’ve been the easy part.”

Skylar crossed her arms, lips puckering. He had a point but…did he have to be so right about it? Maybe she hadn’t thought that far ahead but why would she need to? Pepper and Rocksteady have been nothing but sweet and loving, they wouldn’t hurt her. Not Pepper who, on crisp autumn days, would lay down with his head in her lap basking in the breeze, nor Rocksteady who liked to roll around in the mud after a good rain.

A light breeze shifted the grass between them, brushed against their clothes, carried away Zenith’s sigh. “Do you know what set them off?” He shoved his hands into his back pockets.

“Pepper’s ball deflated.” The tauros battered his favorite ball around for hours on end, chasing after it before it went too far. “He got upset and I think Rocksteady was too close and then Pepper’s horn got stuck in one of his crevices. And then they got mad about being in each other’s space.” Having the kids around egging them on probably didn’t help.

Zenith nodded. “Alright.” He blew out a long breath and rubbed his eyes. “Well, I think we’ve all had a lot of excitement for one day. Go finish your lunch. I’ll take Dasher back and do a quick cool down with her and then I’ll handle the other two.”

Skylar dropped her arms in resignation. Now that her adrenaline wore off, her stomach growled louder than Apollo. She barely had a chance to sit down when everything began. “Do a good check to make sure the foal is okay.” Pokémon were much more sturdy than typical animals, but it wouldn’t hurt to make sure gestation hadn’t been triggered too early.

“Dougie wouldn’t let me forget.” Skylar gave Dasher one more pat and moved toward the house. “Hey.” Zenith brought her to his chest; his heart beat steady and his grip held strong. “I love you. Okay?” The words rumbled in his chest and thrummed in her bones.

She let his words sink in, blinking away the tiny pinch behind her eyes. “I know, Dad. I love you too.” He was still here. At least she had that.

He kissed the side of her head. “And I’d appreciate it if you can wait at least two more years before you start giving me gray hair.”

Letting out a hum-like laugh, she patted his stomach. “You’re too late for that one.”

“Are you…okay?”

Skylar lifted her chin from her palm, glancing up as Bowie sat next to her. The top step of the wooden porch squeaked beneath the added weight. With a shrug, she accepted the bottle of Ramune and popped the marble into place. That felt good.

“Yeah. Zelus gets, well, a little overzealous sometimes.” It was a nice way of putting being yanked around like a rag doll as he looked her over to make sure she hadn’t been hurt. At one point he even held her by the ankle and dangled her upside-down, and that was after squeezing her in a bone-crushing hug, wailing in distress.

“I meant with…the other thing.” Bowie’s fingers fiddled with the wrapping encircling the bottle.

Skylar nodded. She knew what she meant. Taking a swig from her bottle, she allowed the carbonation to fizz and pop on her tongue until it went still. Then she swallowed, savoring the lemon-lime taste as it clung to her tastebuds.

“I’m fine.” Light from the slow setting sun bounced off the glass as it pooled across the covered porch. Remnants of laughter and chatter of the straggling kids faded as they walked down the driveway, waving to Dasher and Apollo who jogged after them down the fence line.

Sounds of night started to leak from Napier Forest; caws squeezed between the trees, warbling hoots and chattering clicks filled in the between beats, and roars burst through at random intervals. The flutter of wings overhead rewarded her with the sight of five zubat heading towards Napier Forest. She made a mental note to check their berries tomorrow; zubat had a tendency to drain some of the unpicked fruit left on the trees too long.

They’ll need to be discarded. Skylar almost laughed at her own thought. Wasn’t that what her dad kind of did earlier? At least it felt like it.

“I just…I don’t get it.” Skylar wouldn’t have realized she spoke aloud if Bowie didn’t jump next to her. Her attempts to stave off the flood were futile; they kept coming along the flowing wave of frustration. “I try to tell my dad I know what I’m doing he comes in and takes over. What do I have to do to get him to trust me?”

“…Throwing down with a mankey is probably a bad idea, huh?”

Skylar shook her head. “I think that’d kill him.”

“Maybe it’s not about trust,” Bowie said after a few moments of silence. “Maybe you just need him to listen.” Skylar narrowed her eyes. Bowie spun the bottle between her fingers. “I mean, I think he hears you but he’s not listening. But that’s parents, right?” She gave a wry smile. “Can’t live with them, gotta find a way to live without ‘em.”

“I…don’t think that’s the saying.” Besides, she already almost lost her dad once, she didn’t want to think about if the situation had been worse.

Bowie shrugged and looked back off in the distance. Skylar studied her profile. How was she able to do that? Just go along like nothing bothered her. Let things slide off her shoulders and not worry. Something bitter and unpleasant twinged in her stomach, making her nose wrinkle. She took another swig, hoping the bubbles would take over whatever it was and fade away with the carbonation.

She set aside her bottle and leaned back, digging into her pocket. Righting herself, she withdrew her uneaten cookie, removed it from the cellophane, and bent it. The soft cookie easily split in half. Nudging Bowie with her elbow, she held out one half once she had her attention. Bowie’s eyes bounced from her face to the cookie and back, then she smiled and took it.

Bowie wiggled her cookie and it took Skylar a second until she chuckled and tapped her half against Bowie’s. The two ate in silence.

Chapter Text

EIGHT | Catch Me if You Cannonball

The irony wasn’t lost on Skylar that she once again found herself flat on her stomach, straining for breath, reaching into a tight space to extract a pokémon. Only this time it was her diva of a vaporeon causing her trouble. Though that wasn’t out of the ordinary. 

Delta disappeared the moment Skylar uttered the words “ear drops”. Usually, she perched atop the refrigerator, hid in a box on the top shelf of the closet, or ducked into the washing machine. Beneath the couch was the last place Skylar thought she’d find her, but Delta gave herself away with her smug chuckles; it sounded like a rolling boil. 

"Delta," Skylar called, doing her best to sound coaxing, "they’re just ear drops.” She blew away dust bunneary trying to cling to her lips. A towel she’d laid out bunched up beneath her. “You don’t want another ear infection, do you?" 

Delta’s luminous eyes narrowed, and she let out a soft but disdainful “Por”. Her finned tail swished with theatrical offense. 

Skylar inched forward, reaching her hand further beneath the couch, wiggling her fingers in what she hoped was an enticing gesture. “It’ll take…five seconds.” She strained against the couch, pressing up against her shoulder. “You won’t even—ugh—feel it.” 

Delta slid further back into the shadows, her sleek body undulating with ease. She was beautiful, as always—skin glimmering, head fin poised like a tiara—but that only made her defiance more exasperating. 

“Don’t make me do The Burrito,” Skylar warned, narrowing her own eyes. 

Delta gasped like she’d just been told she had to bathe in mud for the rest of her life. Holding her stare, Skylar waited. With a huff, Delta emerged halfway from her hideout, chin pointed to the sky. 

“Finally!” Skylar sunk back onto her knees, relief washing over her. If she could get the drops in, then she could get back on schedule. Hope rose in her as she dug into the pocket of her overalls for the drops, her other hand reaching out for her amphibious friend…until Delta flopped sideways in a dramatic faint and rolled out of reach.  

For Arceus’ sake!  

Dodging Skylar’s lunging grasp, Delta slithered under a lounge chair, popped out the other side, and made a flying leap onto the couch cushions. Making a show of returning where she started, she posed like a starlet: neck arched, tail draped delicately, eyes full of tragic betrayal. 

Skylar exhaled slowly through her nose, eyelids falling to an unamused, half-lidded stare. “Really?” All this fuss for something they could’ve been done with fifteen minutes ago. No one liked taking medication; she got that. All those times she recoiled from that gross purple liquid she took as a kid? She fought nearly as hard as Delta did those nights. But her getting sick was few and far between; she couldn’t afford to be down for the count for even a minute. Delta had been dealing with this since she first arrived at the sanctuary.  

They couldn’t keep her out of the pond as a little eevee; every time they turned their backs she’d bolt, taking a running leap off the dock with flapping ears and a happy squeal, cannonballing with a large splash. Getting her back out was another challenge and drying off a wiggling, squirming eevee that cried over her aching ears quickly became a chore. Evolving her made things easier for all of them; she could swim to her heart’s content as long as she accepted the consequences of needing ear drops. 

She was the only one not upholding her part of the deal. 

“Fine,” Skylar said. She jabbed her finger in the vaporeon’s direction. “You asked for this.” 

Delta curled her tail inward three times in a beckoning gesture.  

Bring. It. On. 

In a flash, Skylar grabbed a patchwork quilt off the lounge chair and threw it. It arched through the air, landing on the empty cushion in an unceremonious pile. Through the motion, Delta leapt off the couch and ran for the coffee table. 

Just like she’d predicted. 

Skylar flung her body forward, landing hard on her elbows and knees, blocking the gap beneath the table. The pain was worth it, and so was the Tail Whip Delta made sure to smack her with when her path was blocked. The sting to her cheek faded as she scrambled to her feet, vaulting over the coffee table as Delta settled on the lounge chair. 

A stream of bubbles popped against Skylar’s face. They stunned her for a second, being more solid than she anticipated. Hmm. Was Delta trying to incorporate ice into her water attacks now? Being able to transform her Bubble Beam into a stream of snow globes would do a fair bit of damage in a battle. Or be a good jamming move… 

Shaking her head, she rid herself of some of the water and distracted thoughts. It was a moot point. Delta wasn’t much of a battler anyway; not that she wasn’t capable, she just didn’t prefer it. 

Except for this. 

Continuing forward, Skylar dropped next to the chair and grabbed the lever. Delta scrambled to move, but she was too slow. With a swift yank, Skylar pulled the handle, extracting the footrest of the chair and launched Delta into the air. 

Delta twisted and turned, activating her righting reflex. Her fins twitched and, for a brief second, her body took on a rainbow sheen from the sun filtering in through the windows hitting her. 

Skylar grabbed a nearby laundry basket and lunged. Delta landed inside with a thud, paws slipping on the smooth surface of the basket. It was enough for Skylar to then flip it onto the towel and, with a pull here, a tuck there, Delta was trapped, swaddled perfectly in a blanket burrito. 

“Pin!” Skylar cheered, throwing her arms into the air. Delta let out a yowl which only made Skylar laugh. Her laughter spurred Delta on even more, screaming about injustice and how dare she put her in something so humiliating and how she deserved to go to jail for a thousand years. “You knew what you signed yourself up for. Accept your fate.” 

Delta closed her eyes in a slow blink. When she opened them again, they appeared two sizes bigger. Rounding, a sheen pushed to the surface, and charm pooled in their depths.  

Skylar snorted. “Nope. Don’t even try Baby-Doll Eyes on me. It won’t work.” 

“Vapor.” With a pout, Delta’s fins wilted. 

Skylar’s body followed as she dropped into the recliner with a long sigh. She stretched her legs and settled Delta onto her lap, which came with another back-and-forth until she’d convinced Skylar to let her out of the blanket. She promised she’d be good. 

After rubbing the drops between her palms to warm them up, Skylar grasped Delta’s fin, pulling outward and upward, and positioned the bottle, only to nearly drop it when Delta’s form softened, and she bounced on her lap as a wibbly, wobbly blob.  

“Delta!”  

Being made of mostly water had its advantage…when she was in water. But shifting her molecules around to be able to fit and squeeze into anything she wanted or, in this case, to make it harder to get a grip on her ear was a pain in the butt.   

And the self-satisfied smile on Delta’s face was an added kick to it.   

Maybe if she used both hands and squeezed the drops out with her teeth, she’d have better results.  

“Will you...? Can you just...? Delta Dawn, hold still!”  

That was a big fat, no.   

Delta made her work for it, which was in line with Delta’s favorite interest: trolling Skylar. She squirmed, she wiggled, she jiggled, and she flopped around. By the time she managed to get Delta to solidify, Skylar’s shoulders dropped from her ears, her frustration ebbed away, and mirth bubbled beneath her skin. 

“You know, this is getting old.” She knew her scolding lost its edge due to the soft chuckles attached, but she said them and that’s all that mattered. “I’m doing this for your own good.” At that Delta cast Skylar a glance she laughed out loud. “Not so fun to have it thrown back in your face, huh?” 

“Vaporeon,” Delta muttered. 

“I know. But I do it because I care.” She stroked along Delta’s spine as she spoke. The rough surface tickled her palm, and a few scales flaked off and landed on her lap like glitter. Normal shedding, nothing to worry about. “Just like you make sure I get enough sleep. We look out for each other.” 

Delta grumbled somewhere deep in her chest; the vibration rippled against Skylar’s thigh. But when it occurred a second and third time, she stilled. That vibration pattern didn’t feel right. She touched her pockets, dragged her hand through one side of the cushion, and stuffed it into the other. Her fingers smashed against something hard and cool. Her pokégear. It must’ve fallen out when Delta first escaped getting her eardrops when she first sat. 

It vibrated again. She pulled a face, a spike of...something unpleasant shooting through her at the tiny icon flashing on the screen above three letters. 

Mom  

“Not now,” she mumbled, her frown reflecting in the glass of the display. 

She always had a knack for calling at the worst moments. As if she didn’t realize Skylar and Zenith had others to worry about, to take care of. As if she hadn’t lived that life before, had a big part of it until she decided it didn’t fit into her plans. That they didn’t fit. 

Skylar stared at the screen as the pokégear continued to wiggle and bounce in her hand. What would she have to say that Skylar hadn’t heard already? That she was fine? That everything was going well? Well that was great, but the world didn’t revolve around her. That was kind of the whole point of what they did. The dream Skylar and Zenith tried to continue to see through fruition.

Her thumb hovered over the button on the top right. All she’d have to do was squeeze it and she’d reject the call. She pulled her lower lip into her mouth, holding onto it with her teeth. Just one push, that’s all she’d need. But her thumb didn’t move. The display continued to show. They were at a stalemate. Who’d cave first? 

The screen darkened. Skylar shifted her thumb, pressed the other button. The screen lit up again and...sat empty. Skylar hummed. Did her mother hang up or did the call go on for too long, cutting off on its own?  

Did she want to know? 

Releasing her lip, she set the pokégear aside, it rested in a semi-faded water ring. Skylar went back to administering the medication. Delta sat dutifully this time, tilting her head to grant access to her ear. Skylar squeezed five drops in and wiggled Delta’s fin, chuckling at the glazed look settling in her eyes and the way her tongue lolled out her mouth. “Feels good, huh?” All that fuss for nothing. 

After applying drops to her other ear, Skylar and Delta relaxed in the chair and waited the recommended ten minutes for the medication to take hold. She went back to stroking Delta’s spine in a rhythmic fashion, head to tail, head to tail, head to tail. Her eyes trailed out towards the window. Dasher grazed on the open fields. Kratos the slowpoke stared unblinking up to the sun. Drifloon and hoppip bobbed and danced among the clouds. 

They made it look so easy, letting the wind carry them around wherever they wanted to go. No responsibilities, no worries. No schedule. She let out a little laugh. The schedule was her own doing but, well, it helped things run smoothly. Without a schedule, the sanctuary would be more chaotic than it already was. So would her life.  

Then again, without a schedule anything was possible. Her whole day would be open, waiting for her to fill it in with any whim or fancy. She could do anything, go anywhere... 

Skylar blinked and the drifloon and hoppip faded into the horizon, taking her fleeting thoughts with them. Just as well, she’d never be able to be away from home for long anyway. Too many people relied on her. Her dad still needed her. Besides, unlike her mother’s stellar example, Skylar honored all her commitments. 

“Alright girl, let’s go see what this day has in store for us, huh?” Skylar leaned forward, kissing the back of Delta’s head; breathing deep, she took in the familiar ocean-like scent wafting off her. “Thanks for being somewhat cooperative this time. I won't charge you for it, we'll just add it to your tab. Same time next week.” 

Delta’s tail thumped against her leg. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Warmth flooded through her at the familiar rhythm, the one she’d taught Delta four years prior when she’d first arrived at the sanctuary.  

She was terrified being in a new place, as was expected; crying loudly and shaking while tucked into a ball in the corner of a pen. Her drooping large ears nearly dwarfed her body. Skylar laid in her pen to make her feel better, talking to her about what they did at the sanctuary, how they cared for the pokémon, and all the fun they would have. And as she spoke, she dug her fingers into the fluffy brown fur, until her palm lay flat, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath it and the beating of her heart.

“I’ll take care good of you, I promise,” she said. And she tapped three times on her side like she did with every guest. Her way of letting them know she’d be there for them no matter what.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I. Love. You.

Now, Skylar tapped back, still meaning every word.

Chapter Text

NINE | On the Winds of Whim

Sticky heat trapped around Bowie’s face as her heavy breathing crescendoed, tapped against the fabric of her shirt. Gripping the hem and giving it a mighty tug, her head popped through and she   

“Finally!” Finally dressed, she gathered a braid into her hand, untied it, and braided it back up, doing the same with the other. It was sloppy but at least it was tied. The pokémon—the guests, she had to remind herself—didn’t care too much about how she looked. They only cared if she was there to help.  

And she was late.  

“Ro, why didn’t you wake me?” Bowie lamented as she dropped to her knees, looking for her shoes. She found them beneath the bed in record time. If it were her room back home, it would’ve taken her twenty minutes to find, and it’d be in her mankey’s mouth. But Skylar kept her room pristine, everything in its place and everything back in its place when she was done with it.  

“Ivy...” Rowan muttered, lowering his head. He rubbed his front feet together, claws clicking. “Ivysaur...”  

“Oh, buddy, I’m not mad at you. No worries! You’ve had a long day too!” But even as she reassured him, worry niggled in the back of her mind. It wasn’t a great impression to be late. “We’ll just work extra hard to make up for it!”  

“Ivysaur!” Rowan nodded, watching Bowie hop around while straining to pull her shoe on.  

“Maybe we’ll be assigned to handle the skitty today. Or we can take Dasher around! Maybe groom the nidoran?”   

Her mind reeled with possibilities as she barged out the room, her footsteps bouncing off the walls of the wide hallway. Rowan’s heavy thuds followed at her heels. She grimaced. Would that damage the floor? Something else to add to her list of mess-ups. But then she thought about Apollo’s large frame ambling through with little care, dragging his legs behind and put that worry away. 

She jumped down the backstairs leading right into the kitchen. It was faster going that way than taking the front to find the main meeting room. The house was interesting; on the outside it was a victorian farmhouse frame that didn’t appear too assuming, but the inside was all large hallways, big bay windows, and features she’d never seen before like dumbwaiters, telephone nooks, dutch doors, laundry chutes, pocket doors, and a butler’s pantry.   

Her home was a shoebox by comparison. It sure as heck didn’t have much space, one small living room attached to a kitchen on the bottom floor and the top floor had two small rooms for herself and her grandmother and a bathroom to share. Staying here was like living in a mansion.  

“Machoke!” Zelus chastised Bowie with a snap from his apron. This one was light green with a sphered check pattern outlined with red embroidery.

“Sorry. I’m late! I need to know my assignment!” Bowie explained, her words coming out in a jumbled rush. She didn’t have time to slow down. Maybe if she slipped in the back, no one would notice...  

Just like she didn’t notice Skylar coming in through the side door until the last minute. She let out a cry and tried to dig her heels into the floor, but it was no use. They collided, landing on the floor with heavy thuds and near simultaneous groans of pain. Papers and letters flung into the air gently dipped and swayed to the ground.  

“Ouucch.” Bowie held her throbbing head as she sat up.  

“What’s the rush?” Skylar asked, rubbing her elbow. She frowned at the reddening mark appearing on her skin.  

“I’m late! I’m so sorry!” Skylar moved to gather the discarded papers. Bowie joined in, picking up a few envelopes, a flashy flier for a pokémon resort, and a postcard. “I’ll understand if you want me to shovel poop for the rest of the week. It won’t happen ever again. I promise!”  

“What?” Skylar blinked at her, eyebrows colliding. She pushed an unrestrained dreadlock out her face, hooking it behind her ear. It fell back out right away. “What’re you talking about?”  

“I overslept!”  

“No, you didn’t. It’s Sunday.” It was Bowie’s turn to blink at her. What did that have to do with anything? Skylar glanced her way again then leaned back on her heels, realization dawning on her face. “We’re closed on Sundays.”  

“We are?”  

“Yeah.” Skylar flipped a letter around, eyes scanning the back, before she tossed it into a nearby trashcan. “No one told you?” She didn’t wait for Bowie to answer. “Just like we all need some time off work, the guests need time to be pokémon.” She tapped the other envelopes on the table as she continued, sorting them stamp side up before setting them aside in a three-slotted cubby on the wall, “This way they don’t have to stay in their pens all day and can do whatever they want.”  

“Oh! Well...that’s nice!” Following her lead, Bowie stuffed the envelopes into the cubby. They sat up straight for a few seconds before shifting to the side, fanning out. 

Skylar hummed in the affirmative. “So...you can relax. ...If that’s something you can manage.”  

Bowie grinned at that. It was funny, almost hypocritical, hearing that particular word coming out of Skylar’s mouth. She’d never met someone wound up as tight as the coiled end of a spoink like she was.  

“Besides, I would’ve woken you up.”  

“ Really!? ” She didn’t mean to sound so incredulous but...huh!?  

“Sure.” Skylar’s shoulders bounced in a small shrug. “I wouldn’t have been nice about it, though. You karate chopped my liver all night.”  

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that.” Bowie rubbed the back of her neck and gave a sheepish smile. “I had a dream I was eating at this sushi place, and the chef was an octillery and then the octillery tried to turn me into sushi. And then there were a bunch of lickitung standing around this circular conveyor belt and some random man shouting every ten seconds—" 

“Wow, you really just talk about anything, huh?” 

Ouch. Bowie pushed away the sting of her comment with a nonchalant shrug and a smile. It wasn’t the first time she’d been called out for talking too much. But still, Skylar must’ve realized what she’d said because she cleared her throat and turned away; her cheeks darkened with a ruddy undertone. At least she had the decency to appear ashamed for it. 

Skylar reached for a navy-colored messenger bag hanging off the trunk of a donphan hook over the bench seat of the breakfast nook. Four of Zelus’ other aprons sat on the other rungs; the last one at the end was empty. 

Bowie curled and uncurled her fingers, then started snapping, then rocked back and forward on her feet as her eyes shifted around the room. Say something! Why was this the one time words came difficult for her?  

Rowan didn’t seem to have that problem, speaking animatedly with Zelus by the stove while the two pokémon handled wooden spoons and rubber spatulas. They descended into a play fight, utilizing the utensils like little swords, advancing and backing away amidst laughter. Pokémon made everything look so easy. 

“So...um, if you're closed today, where’s your dad?”  

“He left earlier. Said he had some meeting thing to go to.” Skylar waved her hand. Something heavy mixed in with the tone she used, making her efforts to sound nonchalant fall flat. Bowie didn’t press on it; if there was one thing she was an expert on, it was complicated family dynamics. “He probably won’t be back until later.” 

“Oh.” 

“I was going to get some things settled here and then go to the library.” Bowie nodded. That sounded nice. She looked around the room again, eyes drawn toward the large bay window overlooking the wrap-around porch. Maybe she could do some more exploring around the house, or the property. She still hadn’t had a chance to see the pond yet. “...Do you want to come?”  

If Bowie snapped her head around any faster, she swore she would’ve cracked her neck. “What? Really?”  

Skylar gave her a look, extending her fingers that clutched the strap of the bag. “Unless you don’t want to.”  

“No! I mean, yes! Yeah, I want to go! I want to see more of the shops! And hang out with you. I mean, if you’re fine with that!” 

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t.”  

Bowie wanted to point out that she could’ve asked to be polite but decided against it. This was progress. Sort of. “Okay, well, do you want to eat breakfast before we go or...?”  

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just grab something in town.” Skylar’s turn to leave was impeded by the presence of Zelus standing in front of the door. His muscles bugled due to the cross of his arms and the glare he sent Skylar’s way made even Bowie come to a screeching halt.  

“Ma-machoke,” Zelus said, wagging his finger in Skylar’s face.  

“Zel, it’s fine.” Skylar gently pushed his hand away. The size of his hand dwarfed hers. “I can grab a pastry or something.”  

“Ma choke! Ma, macho-machoke.”  

“Okay, for one, you’re not slaving over anything, so you’re being a little dramatic. It’s not a big d—wait a second... Zelus !” Skylar held an unamused expression on her face even as Zelus lifted her off the ground, carried her over his shoulder, and deposited her in a seat at the breakfast nook. She moved to protest but a finger jabbed in her direction made her flinch and accept her fate with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll eat something before I go. Happy?”  

With a pleased smile, Zelus patted the top of Skylar’s head and skipped back over to the stove top where three pans sizzled with heady, savory scents. Rowan took turns shaking different herbs into the skillet upon Zelus’ instruction. A pleased smile bloomed on his face at Zelus’ praise. 

Bowie's mouth wavered as she took a seat across from Skylar, trying not to laugh at the way her cheeks puffed up, and her mouth turned into a pout.  

“Weren’t we gonna go to the library?” Bowie hovered over Skylar’s shoulder, peering at the computer screen. Some sort of program was pulled up, and Skylar clicked around and typed within it, opening and closing different tabs along the way. Her fingers flew expertly over the keyboard as she went.  

“We are. I just need to finish something.”  

Bowie leaned forward even further, resting her chin on Skylar’s shoulder. “What’s that?”  

Skylar’s bright blue eyes shifted to the side, taking Bowie in for a second before snapping back to looking ahead. “Kecleon.”  

“That’s funny, doesn’t look like a pokémon to me.”  

“Ha ha.” Skylar’s lips pulled upwards at the corners. “Kecleon is the software we use for Intake.”  

“I thought you just used paper and a clipboard.”  

“We do, for the initial stuff. This is a little more thorough. It has all the stats we’ll ever need just in case we need to do a transfer with the Volunteer Pokémon House or if someone needs background info for an adoption or foster placement.” She pointed at the screen where age, height, weight, length, species, and various other stats were listed. “Depending on the pokémon, it also shows its past trainer history. Last thing we want are repeats, y’know.”  

“Wow. I didn’t realize how thorough everything was.”  

“It has to be,” Skylar said simply. “If we want to match the right guest to the right home, we need to know their behavior. Their temperament; if they’re more anxious or stand-offish, if they have a history of aggression, that sort of thing. Keeps everything safe and easy for all of us.” She clicked around a few times before pressing three keys down in succession. The window closed and the computer switched to the login screen. When Skylar righted, Bowie took a step back. “You’ll be trained on this eventually.”  

Bowie pointed to herself. “Me?”  

“Yeah.” Skylar placed the keyboard and the mouse atop of the flat CPU, leaving the counter clear. “It helps to have more of us informed about it. Chelsea knows it like the back of her hand.” She continued speaking while moving over to the cage the skitty were sleeping in. They lay together in a pile. “Some of the other volunteers are still getting the hang of it. Mr. Holloway tends to avoid it but, well, he’s not big on technology anyway so I don’t push.” She wiggled her finger inside, stroking the top of one skitty’s head. Its ears twitched in its sleep. 

“Yeah he seems kind of...”  

“Grumpy?”  

“I was gonna say cranky.”  

“That works too.” Standing, Skylar motioned for Bowie to follow her. Sunlight smacked them in the face as they stepped out of Intake. “He’s always been like that. Likes things a certain way. Prefers to keep to himself. Which is funny ‘cause he’s really good at handling Bucky and the herd. Actually, I guess it makes sense since they’re both curmudgeons. But he works hard and is always punctual, so my dad likes him being around.” 

The guests and sancutarians were already up and standing by their pens when the two girls entered the barn, greeting them all with bright voices. Bucky rolled his eyes and bumped his head against the wooden restraints. A skiddo by his side mimicked him, glancing upward at him as if looking for his approval. The two nidoran chattered and Kratos, silent as ever, stared at the back wall, mouth open in a wide, frozen smile that is normal for slowpoke. 

Bowie went around unlatching their pens, letting them know about their day off and how she hoped they would have a lot of fun. Nana smiled at her; Mollie walked by with her arms crossed and her nose in the air. Bowie stuck her tongue out at her retreating back. Rude. What did she do to her anyway? 

She sucked her tongue back up into her mouth when she saw the pen Skylar knelt by. Her mouth dried and she gulped as she approached, taking tentative steps. The pen was wide open, but Anubis lay in the corner, chin resting on her paws, eye closed, unmoving. 

“Hey Anubis. D’you want to come with us today?” Skylar asked, voice low. 

Anubis didn’t move. “I think it’d be good if you came with us,” Skylar continued, keeping her voice low and steady. “Give you some time away from here. Some fresh air. Space away from all the chaos, y’know?” 

The loose straw shifted beneath Anubis’ huffing breath. Her shoulder blades pointed upward beneath her skin as she pushed herself into a standing position. One eye sized them up, sending a shiver down Bowie’s spine.  

Anubis stared at them, unblinking, then shifted her gaze around to the other guests who happily moved in one parade mass to the door, smiling and talking all the while. Her ears twitched and her lips pulled downward. 

“Houn?” 

“Sorry, girl. You’ll have to keep the muzzle on. Unless you’re eating.” A low grumble rolled in Anubis’ chest. It struck Bowie in the pit of her stomach, made her take a step back. “I know, but not everyone gets it. This is a step in the right direction. Once people see how well you do and how sweet you are, we can move toward leaving it off. It has nothing to do with you. It’s more…” Skylar’s lips vibrated as she blew out a breath. “It’s more everyone else. The world. They just don’t get it. But it’s okay, one day they will.” At this, Anubis unfurled herself and approached Skylar’s outstretched hand. She sat back on her haunches and gave Skylar’s palm one lick. Leaning forward, Skylar rested her forehead against Anubis’ and stroked her cheek. “One day they will.” 

“Alright, everyone, Bowie and I are going into town with Anubis. Feel free to do whatever you like but please keep fighting to a minimum. Nana’s in charge but if you need anything else, Apollo and Zelus are nearby. Keep an eye on Dasher; she’s not meant to foal yet but if anything changes, get Zelus to call us and we’ll be back. And keep Delta out of the pond!” 

The pokémon responded at once and quickly dispersed to whatever activity tickled their fancy. Bowie went to grab her bike from beneath the front porch, stopping only when Skylar pointed out it was a nice day, and they could walk. Bowie agreed. 

It was a fifteen-minute walk into town. Along the dirt path that ran between the edge of Napier Forest and the fence line of the Daniels property until the path took them away. Skylar told her they had nothing to worry about, being so close to the Forest. If any pokémon popped their head out, they were low levels and weren’t going to cause any trouble; they were just curious and wanted to look at them. The people of Arylide Town would work the same way until they adjusted.  

“I can’t be the first person who’s ever come by,” Bowie commented, lacing her fingers behind her neck.  

“You’re not. You’re just the only one who’s stayed longer than a few days.” Skylar shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts.   

It was weird seeing Skylar so dressed down. For a while she thought Skylar only owned the same blue plaid shirt, white t-shirt, denim, and dark boots since she wore it every day; and they were always freshly pressed with barely a wrinkle, stain, or smudge in sight. But now here she was decked out in a hooded denim vest, a light gray muscle tee with 186 across the chest in athletic font, denim shorts with black biker shorts underneath reaching her knees. She still wore her usual work boots, made of soft leather and air-padded soles, but these were black instead of brown. 

“Don't be surprised if they talk about you too,” she continued, “everyone’s business is everyone’s around here.”  

“I guess I’m bringing that onto you guys, huh?” Bowie asked, pulling a face.  

Skylar shrugged. “It’s not the first time this town’s talked about my family.” She kicked at a rock, quickly offering an apology when it struck Anubis’ back paw. She’d been walking ahead with Rowan, stopping mid-talk about something to turn her head and blow smoke out her nose. “Anyway, you get used to it.”  

Like getting used to people leaving? That’s what Skylar had said her first day at the sanctuary, while they fed the skitty. She’d sounded detached about it then too. Bowie studied the side of Skylar’s face out the corner of her eye; her face remained blank as usual, giving nothing away. No inkling if it bothered her or not.  

She knew how small towns worked. Her reputation proceeded her back at home. No matter what she and her friends got up to, Grammy would know about it before she even had a chance to explain; her teachers were warned about her before she met them each year. After a while she stopped trying to change their minds. What was the point? It made her miserable trying so hard to be what everyone else thought she should be. She’d never meet their expectations anyway; they’d all made it quite clear. The only one who took her as she was, unconditionally, was Rowan. She’d never be able to thank him properly for that.  

“By the way…where’d you get that?”  

“Hmm?” Bowie tilted her head. “Get what?’  

“That.” Skylar pointed at Bowie then gestured around her own neck. “I’ve never seen anyone carry their pokéballs like that before.”  

“Oh, this!” She looked down; her fingers grazed over the fabric circling her neck, where six pokéballs sat safe and secure. She touched the one at the front, Rowan’s, and pride surged through her as it always did when she remembered he’d decided to stay with her through everything. “I made it!”  

Skylar blinked. “Clever.” Bowie pouted. Was that all she was going to say about it? She’d seen a little bit more of Skylar yesterday, a more relaxed version of her, so Bowie knew it was possible to bring it out again. It’d just take some time. Some baby steps, maybe the size of a togepi.  

“Thanks! I used to wear them on my belt but then it got in the way and my shirts fit funny over them. So, I figured, there has to be a better way to carry them around because I didn’t just want them sitting in my bag, right? Pokémon friends are best when they’re nearby! And, this way, it’s harder for someone to steal them when they’re that close.”  

“Did that happen a lot?”  

“Someone stealing them?” Skylar nodded. “No. Well, I mean, kind of?” Bowie’s nose scrunched. “There were these two I somehow ran into a lot, Bryce and Cassidy. From Team Rocket. They kept coming up with these schemes to steal people’s pokémon, wearing these ridiculous outfits. They managed to steal some pokémon every now and then, but we always got them back in the end, didn’t we Ro?”  

“Ivy! Ivysaur!” Rowan affirmed with a big smile and a nod.  

“Belts are too easy to snatch pokéballs off of, so I decided on this. Plus, it’s very fashionable, if I do say so myself!” Bowie flashed a peace sign and grinned. 

“…Is it always like that?” 

“Well, no, sometimes it clashes with certain patterns—” 

Skylar’s lips twitched. “I meant the…the stealing pokémon thing. Is…is traveling always like that?” 

“Oh, no! Travelling’s the best! It’s a lot of fun! You can see so many different things and go to places you’ve never been. I mean, I went to the Orange Islands once; their gym challenge is insane! Nothing like the standard circuits around here or other regions but it’s so fun because it’s different, y’know? And there’s just so much about the world to experience. So many different…events and festivals and…and races and rituals. There’s just…so much! Of everything!” 

“And it’s always that eventful?” 

“That’s the beauty of it; your day can change like…like the wind changes direction.” She plucked a blade of grass out the ground and let it go. They watched as it got carried along the wind, dancing and furling until it landed back in the grass. “There were a lot of days me and Rowan and my team just chilled. We picked a place, and we hung out and relaxed.” A twinge of sadness made itself known in her chest. 

Those were some of the best moments of her life. Lying down next to a crackling fire, Rowan tucked beneath her arm, Daffodil on night watch duty to stay in sight of the moon, the rest of her team scattered around the campsite beneath the blanket of stars, winding down after a long day.  

Bowie swallowed the lump rising in her throat, blinked a few times, and pressed on. “But, y’know, other days we had nothing planned, and then I’d hear about some sort of contest going on or we’d run into other Trainers that, maybe, wanted to check out some ruins or find a shrine that was nearby. And we just went. So, I guess it just depends, really, on what you call eventful.” 

Skylar bobbed her head in a slow nod. “Makes sense.” 

And that was that, Skylar didn’t say any more. Bowie pressed her lips together; something niggled in the back of her mind. It was a bit odd, her questioning. People tended to ask her questions about her travels directly. In fact, it was almost inevitable anyone she’d run into had some sort of story to share. 

Chatting about one another’s experiences next to a campfire or stretched out on the couches in the lounge of a Pokémon Center were common experiences. Getting leads on gym battles or the feel of the next town, maybe some warnings about paths being blocked or a shortcut to another location would be passed around as easily as treats picked up along the way. 

But the way Skylar asked about it felt strange. A little stiff, even for her.  

Almost like she was digging for information rather than aiming for a conversation. 

Hang on…  

“Skylar, have you never—” 

“Houn! Houndour!”  

Barks shot through the air, almost making the entire sky vibrate. Bowie gasped; her feet tangled up and her heart slammed against her chest in her haste to stay upright, arms windmilling at her sides. The ground trembled beneath her feet, or was it her quaking legs?  

“Ivy-saur!” 

Rowan! He was weak against Anubis’ fire typing; one blow and Rowan would be cooked. Literally! 

Bowie hurried ahead, rounding the corner the two pokémon had disappeared a few moments before. As an ivysaur, Rowan was bigger and had great defense, but he didn’t move as fast as he used to thanks to the large bud on his back; not like when he was a bulbasaur. She’d always told herself to work on that, but she’d kicked that can down the road. Maybe everyone was right… 

“Rowan, I’m here boy!” She yanked his pokéball off the choker; it grew in her palm as she gripped it, ready to recall her friend. 

But Rowan didn’t seem to be in distress. In fact, it was Anubis whose head gnashed from side to side, uttering a low, bone-rattling growl at a shaking bush nearby. Rowan muttered something as he rubbed a vine against the houndour’s ramrod spine. Anubis’s focus remained forward, her ears pulled back, and her eye widened so far Bowie saw the white surrounding it. 

“Rowan, maybe you should step aside,” Bowie said, doing her best to keep her voice steady. But to her ears it came out shaky as ever. How was Skylar able to do it?

“Saur-saur,” Rowan said, shaking his head. Bowie stared, her heart giving a strong kick. N-no…?  

“Anubis, look at me!” Skylar’s voice, firm and controlled, cut through. All at once Anubis’s posture eased and she whined, looking over at Skylar. Even Bowie felt compelled to give all her attention to her. “Good girl.” She dug into her bag and pulled out quartered occa berries, letting Anubis sniff at them. “Now stay.” 

The bush shook harder upon Skylar’s approach. Her shadow fell across the surface and out popped a shroomish, its mouth settled in a deep frown as the opening at the top of its head curled inward and outward, pulsing. 

“ Shroooooom ,” it growled. 

“It’s alright, Shroomish; Anubis didn’t mean any harm.” Skylar’s hands remained outstretched, palms facing outward. “She was just a little scared and gets reactive sometimes but we’re working on it. There’s no danger.” 

“Shroom.” Shroomish’s beady eyes darted around the group. The opening continued to flap, but at a slower pace than before. 

“We’re on our way into town so you won’t be bothered again,” Skylar continued. “But, if you’d like, we have some berry trees on my property just up there.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder in the direction they had come. “You’re free to take some, as an apology for scaring you. Just…don’t Stun Spore us. Deal?” 

“Shroomish, shroom?” The shoormish waddled closer, head tilted to the side. 

“It’s not a trick. I promise. Tell them Skylar sent you. That’s me.” Skylar placed a hand on her chest, gesturing to herself. “There’s a miltank there named Nana who’ll take care of you. Have as much as you’d like. You can chill out in the garden too.” 

“Shroom, shroom.” The shroomish hopped from foot to foot, its mouth turning upward just briefly before it started down the path in a determined march. 

Skylar watched Shroomish, rising to full height and placed her hands on her hips. “Have you ever been stun spored before?”

Bowie tapped her chin, thinking, and nodded. “Yeah, actually! Once a victreebel landed on my head while it was sleeping and tried to eat me.” 

“…What?” 

“Long story.” 

“We have time.” Skylar gestured to the path ahead of them. 

“You first!” Bowie jabbed her finger at the air in Skylar’s direction. When she spoke she was almost breathless. “How did you talk down that shroomish? It looked ready to attack!” 

Skylar blinked. “He wasn’t going to attack.” 

“How did you know?” 

“Because he told me.” She didn’t remember hearing any of that while they talked. Granted, she didn’t hear much over her pounding heart. Skylar explained, “If he wanted to attack, he would have. He wouldn’t have stood around and let me talk to him.” As she spoke, she gripped the tip of Bowie’s finger and pushed it away from her face. “With that one specifically," she lifted her chin in its direction, "his head was gearing up to use a Sturn Spore, but his body wasn’t following through with that threat. Shroomish muscles tense and they ground themselves, kind of like plants, when they’re ready to use that attack. He was just giving us a warning.” 

“But how did you know that?” 

Skylar shrugged. “People and pokémon are a lot alike. They say a lot of things when you take the time to really listen.” She directed her eyes down to Anubis who remained where she at, leaves of the berries lay at her feet. "Do you want to continue? You listened to me very well and you backed off like we've practiced. That deserves a pup cup, don't you think?" Anubis lifted her head, a low grunt sounded in her chest. Skylar shook her head. "Nonsense. Everyone deserves a chance, and besides"—Skylar winked at her—"I think it's against the law to turn down a treat."

Anubis nodded once and fell into step with her as they started walking again. When they were a few paces away, Anubis turned, sizing Bowie up with her one good eye. The motion made Skylar stop and look behind her.

"You comin'?" Skylar asked, eyebrows lifting.

"Y-yeah! Of course!" Bowie hurried up, matching their pace, keeping Rowan close beside her.