The thing about old adages was that they endured for a reason. Love is blind. A Pidgey in hand is worth two in the brush. Every Bolthound has its day.
Rejection stings.
Unfortunately, simply knowing that my experience had that sort of ubiquity wasn’t doing a lot to alleviate the nagging ache in my heart. It was like– skinned knees, or a nasty rug burn. Except the injury wasn’t on my skin, rather it was deep in my chest. A pinching feeling, a nagging hurt that you could almost just forget about before it came tearing back anew.
Old adages survive because they’re true. Because they’re such universal parts of our experience as a collective that they’ve entered our social consciousness and won’t leave.
I hadn’t wanted a new partner, not really. I had plenty on my plate already. Many things to do, information to seek, training to plan. And that wasn’t even to mention how I wasn’t fully sure that I had permission from the Ranger program to use my new and increased carry limit for personal captures. What if I needed those belt spaces to hold on to rescued Pokémon?
There was no way I could fault Wugtrio for their reluctance, either. Torn away from their familiar environment, released in a brand new place filled with foreign people and Pokémon, it was hardly a surprise that they’d chosen to return into the wild.
And yet, none of that rationalization blunted the pain of seeing head number one standing tall while two and three dipped back into the stone, as if chagrined.
Still, a promise was a promise. The Wugtrio were in other hands now. Better ones, that could take them somewhere safe. Somewhere wild. Somewhere they’d prefer being, rather than by my side.
The walk back from the ranger station (outpost three, not seven) to our apartment was quiet. I didn’t feel much up to talking about things with my knights yet, even if their synchronized patter on the sidewalk was a welcome relief from my thoughts.
The summer sun hung low in the sky, even if we had a few hours left before true sunset. It dyed the passing cityscape in vibrant hues of orange and red, creating a glittering skyline that dazzled the eye. But it also cast long shadows, skyscraper-shaped pools of elongated darkness that covered the concrete and asphalt path leading back to our apartment.
Techne city was bustling, more than usual, as people and Pokémon returned home from long days at work. There went a construction worker, his Gurdurr trailing behind him. The two were bantering back and forth, their words lost to the bustle of the city but their expressions bright and cheery.
A businessman in a suit unaccompanied by any Pokémon strode behind the pair along the sidewalk, speaking into a mobile phone. He seemed like he was shouting, badgering whoever was on the other side of the line with Loudred-like volume.
Past him was a woman adorned in a dirt-stained apron and gloves accompanied by a grinning Sunflora. The pair were looking at the man in the suit in front of them with barely contained contempt. The florist visibly rolled her eyes at her partner, who covered their face with their leaves. It did little to conceal their mirth, as the Sunflora’s whole body rocked in suppressed laughter.
I’d probably be joining their ranks soon, these working people. It was an odd thought. I’d always seen myself burning my teenage years in a dojo, climbing the junior division. I’d embroil myself in the intense competition to become number one, outperforming all my contemporaries, defeating the old guard, gaining fame and accolades, breaking out into the Primary Leagues, and then Chroma from there. It’d been a dream, sure, but it’d been mine. I’d studied and practiced for hours and hours, learning all I could about Ferrum Battles, familiarizing myself with the most common Pokémon brought for competitions, and envisioning what my own partner would be like.
In some ways, it was deadly serious. I’d taken it that way, all through school. It was a chance at fame, at fortune, at true greatness. In other ways it was an extension of sorts, of my childhood. Of a time when my only responsibility was to myself, and my partner. I was realizing that now, faced with something new, something riskier.
I was about to start a career as a ranger. The work could be… dangerous. Truly dangerous. Lives might hang in the balance of my decisions. My partners’, my own, the people and Pokémon we protected.
Capturing Wugtrio, and then having to consult them had brought that into focus for me. I’d uprooted that Pokémon’s life. It’d been at the behest of someone else, done for the greater good of the city and its inhabitants, but that didn’t mean the coming weeks wouldn’t be hard for Wugtrio. Golems, I’d done the same to dozens of Wigletts before. I’d never spoken to them, though. Spared them the thought.
I spent some time reflecting on it, weighing the motives and the results. In the end, I was confident I’d done right. The environment was in danger, Techne’s iconic beaches threatened and all the Pokémon living there endangered by foreign predators. It’d be hard for Wugtrio, and the Wigletts, but the rangers would take care of them.
We’d take care of them. I was part of that group now, presumably. If my new Battle Card was properly reflecting reality.
Their responsibilities were mine as well.
It was daunting. The adults I was walking by seemed so much taller than me, all of a sudden. I had a hard time seeing myself, wearing a ranger’s red uniform. Janine had made it look so dashing, but I could only envision myself drowning in the layers of crimson fabric.
Maybe it’d grow on me. Or I’d grow into it.
Someday soon I could be one of these people, walking through the city, living their life. Not striving to be the best, but working still. Fulfilling an important role in keeping the people and Pokémon of Ferrum safe. From nature, the ever-shifting environment, and from one another.
It was a hefty responsibility, but vital all the same. I thought again of Janine, and what she did, really tried to analyze how I felt. There was respect there, admiration even. She was clearly a veteran, someone who’d stuck with the profession through thick and thin. Her partner had certainly been strong. It had only taken Stella one move to knock out my knights, even if said attack had been super effective. She was cool, she felt like someone I could look up to.
Was she someone I wanted to be in thirty years?
I wasn’t sure, and the sun-stained cityscape didn’t have any answers for me. I kept walking, and ended up turning onto a main street. I had to recall my partners, to make sure they didn’t get stepped on in the sudden crush. I spent most of the rest of the way home trying to see the street signs over the shoulders of the crowd.
-
When I pushed open the door to the apartment, I was immediately hit with a familiar smell. Mom must have been cooking spicy hotpot, which could only mean one thing. I ran through the entry hall to the kitchen, and sure enough, my favorite pink blob was there, sitting at the table while her trainer cooked.
Chansey turned towards me, and her face lit up with a grin that did a lot to ease the hurt in my chest. I walked over to her, only restraining myself from running so mom Mom wouldn’t yell at me, and held my arms wide.
Chansey didn’t miss a beat, hopping off her stool and sweeping me up in a massive hug. Her little arms couldn’t quite wrap around me, and we couldn't squeeze too tight because of the egg held in her stomach pouch, but even still, there was nothing warmer than a Chansey hug. Nothing else I knew filled you with such a profound sense of well-being.
I nuzzled my hair against the top of her head, and I could feel her body shudder with repressed mirth as she tried to keep from laughing at the ticklish sensation. I kept at it, attempting to get her to break, and eventually, she let out a huge exaltation that transitioned into a full-on laugh. She pushed me away, trying to give me a stern glare, but it was ruined by the fond gleam in her eyes.
“You’ve been so busy!” I told her. “It feels like it’s been years!” Really it hadn’t even been three months, but honestly, that felt like an eternity.
“Chanse, Chansey!” She nodded, quite obviously feeling the same. Mom’s partner started examining me, fretting over the small cuts and scrapes I’d accumulated while training and traversing the wilderness. “Chaaaansey?” She asked as she worked, clearly trying to get to the bottom of my minor wounds.
“I’ve been busy too,” I told her with a grin. “My new partners and I have been doing some pretty intense training.”
Chansey cocked her head cutely, and then turned an inquisitive eye down to the ball hanging from the clasp on my belt.
“That’s right, I’ve got partners now!” I informed her, puffing out my chest. “And I bet they’d love to meet you.”
Mom’s partner covered her mouth obligingly, aping a sense of surprise. I’m sure she knew about my knights already, she and Mom talked every day at work after all, but she knew it’d get a chuckle out of me, so she did it anyway.
That was why I loved Chansey. She was always willing to go the distance to brighten someone else’s day. Her species was charitable to a fault, but I think our Chansey in particular focused not just on what was good for the body, but what was good for the heart. It certainly made her popular at hospitals and Pokémon Centers. And kept her busy.
“C’mon out guys!” I commanded my knights as I held their ball. It popped open with a hiss and a snap, leaking white light onto the ground, which quickly coalesced into six distinct ball-like forms. My knights assumed formation, Lance leading the column as they eyed the new Pokémon.
They weren’t the only ones. Chansey was staring right back, peering at the bristling Falinks with undisguised curiosity.
“Introduce yourselves.” I ordered my knights. “Politely. Chanse is family, and I would trust her with my life.”
So commanded and reassured, my knights began cycling, introducing themselves one at a time. Chansey started working her magic, and I left the Pokémon to it so I could go say hi to Mom.
She was in the kitchen, chopping up ingredients, and I felt my eyes well up a bit as I walked up behind her. I could feel the chili peppers and spicy seasoning. “Hey Mom.” I called out, knowing better than to approach while she was handling a knife.
“Hey sweetie,” she said without turning around, focused on the food. “Dinner will be ready in a half hour.”
“Want any help?” I asked, peering around her at the smorgasbord of vegetables and meats awaiting the cooking knife.
Mom turned, staring down at me for a few moments, before turning back to the food. “Sure sweetie. Wash these, and then take the bottom off,” she pointed to a small stack of enoki mushrooms, tucked away in one corner of the chaotic counter.
I grabbed my assignment, rescuing them to the sink along with a colander from one of the cabinets. “So, how was your day?” I asked as I turned the sink on. I stuck the mushrooms in the colander, and put the whole thing under the stream pouring from the faucet.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
“It was good,” Mom replied cheerily. She punctuated her answer with a series of quick, aggressive chops. “Had to fight with Chansey a bit to get her to come home, but I was able to convince her, so all’s well that ends well.”
“Are things finally slowing down?” I asked. “It’s rare for you to get back early on a weekend.”
Mom shrugged. “More or less. There were… factors, earlier on in the year, but we should be seeing less action for the next few months.”
“You can– just, talk about it, you know,” I told her, turning back to the mushrooms. “I’m not going to flip out just because you mention things related to Ferrum Battles.”
I didn’t see how Mom reacted, but after a few moments, she responded. “Alright, but it’s not really all that interesting. Novices don’t really know their limits, or that of their partners, so we see a big uptick in action when a new crop of Battle Trainers starts competing.”
“That makes sense. I guess I hadn’t really thought about what would happen with Pokémon Centers at the start of a season.”
“I don’t think you thought about much outside of Battle Training for quite a while there Fe,” Mom replied, teasingly.
“Ouch,” I covered the real pang in my chest with an exaggerated tone of fake hurt. “I thought you were okay with me wanting to be a Battle Trainer?”
“Of course we were sweetie,” Mom reassured me. “Your father and I would have supported you in whatever you wanted to pursue. We still do, even if I think being a ranger sounds way too dangerous.”
“Speaking of which, I think I’ve been accepted into the program, so we should look for some more mail from the rangers soon.” A part of me couldn’t help but wonder if Mom would have been against my decision to sign on as a junior ranger if it hadn’t been so instrumental in pulling me out of the funk I’d been experiencing this summer. Another part of me knew better than to consider it, so I quashed that line of thinking.
“That’s great sweetie!” It didn’t sound like she necessarily thought it was all that great, but she was trying. “What makes you think you were accepted?”
“I was turning in a bounty at the Pokémon Center, and the nurse told me that my carry limit had been increased to three. Then she told me I’d gotten the ranger exemption. Seems like a reasonable conclusion that I got in. Just need to get the paperwork now, I bet.”
“I’ll keep an eye open for it,” Mom reassured me. “Are you done with those mushrooms?”
“Almost.” I got the last of the silt and debris off of the enoki, and shut the faucet off. From there, it only took a few moments to transfer the mushrooms to a cutting board and slice off the bits at the bottom. “All done, what’s next?”
“Do you remember how to slice the Napa? There’s a head in the fridge.”
“Sure, I think I know.” I pulled open the refrigerator. It took me a few moments of digging around to find the bulky vegetable, but the thing took up too much space to avoid my gaze for long. I started rinsing it.
As I was working, Mom picked up the conversation again. “So what were you turning in at the Pokémon Center? More Wigletts?”
“Not today,” I informed her. “We actually managed to catch a Wugtrio, so we turned that in.”
“A Wugtrio? Isn’t that an evolved Pokémon?” Mom asked. Her voice got louder, so I could tell she turned to face me.
“Yeah,” I didn’t turn back, continuing to rinse the cabbage past the point of good reason. “It wasn’t so tough. My knights were able to handle it.”
“Hmmm,” I heard Mom hum thoughtfully, and then a rustling as she turned back around. “So you caught an evolved Pokémon, right when your carry limit got increased. Did you consider keeping them?”
I felt that stinging sensation return to my chest. “I thought about it, but I decided that I couldn’t make that choice without consulting Wugtrio first.” I started peeling the Napa, removing the damaged and wilted leaves from the outer ring. “They decided that they’d rather return to the wild.” I messed up a bit, and one of the wilted leaves took a nice one next to it with it. They all ended up in the compost pile.
“Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I lied. “It would have been hard to take care of them anyway, and it's not like I caught them with the expectation that they’d join me.”
“Maybe. But being turned down isn’t ever pleasant.”
‘Thanks for stating the obvious Mom.’
I didn’t say. Mom was being sympathetic, there was no need to be snarky. Instead, I let out a noncommittal grunt and an, “I guess.”
We worked quietly for a few moments, and as I was slicing crosswise strips out of the cabbage, a thought struck me. “Mom, did it make you sad when I told you I didn’t want to be a Joy?” This time I turned to face her, to better judge her reaction to my question.
“Of course not,” Mom said at first. She peered over her shoulder, and saw me looking at her. She winced a bit, and amended. “Well, maybe a little, actually.”
Somehow, hearing the second sentence was actually a bit of a relief. If she truly hadn’t actually cared, I think that would have hurt in a way that was different, but no less severe than the sting Wugtrio’s rejection had left in me.
“But you made it clear early that it wasn’t for you,” Mom kept going, “and then you fell in love with the idea of being a Battle Trainer, and your father and I decided to support you in that.”
I could remember it clearly. My parents had been perfectly willing to nurture my enthusiasm for Battle Training, taping tournament battles for me that I’d miss because of school, buying books or battle trainer Cards when I asked, and even taking me out to see a real battle in person, once.
“We were just happy to see you fall in love with something. It never crossed our minds that– well–” She trailed off, maybe unable to find the right words. I don’t know if there was a right thing for her to say, and I didn’t want to leave an opportunity for her to find the wrong thing.
“Thanks Mom, for letting me make my own choices. I’m sorry that I didn’t want to be a nurse.” I found that I meant it. If I’d said the same thing yesterday, I think it would have been a platitude, but after today, I had a lot more respect for the effort Mom put into burying whatever hurt she might have felt at me turning away from the family business.
“Of course sweetie,” Mom gave me a gentle smile. I’d seen the same expression on dozens of Joys, but it still always surprised me when Mom wore it. I never saw her at work, so it was easy to forget that for everyone who wasn’t family, she was Nurse Joy. It was a nice smile.
It was the expression of a Joy. I hated it. I would never tell Mom, but that was why I could never follow in her footsteps. The idea of being known not for who I am, but what I was?
I am Fe Alvida, the one and only. Not one of a thousand Joys.
I started hacking into the Napa, carelessly slicing the cabbage into a variety of strips. With hot pot, there was no need to make sure that everything was the same size.
You could cook each piece for as long as it took to be ready.
-
Dinner was a rowdy affair. My knights loved spicy food, just like Chansey, so I made sure to have them come over and get some hot pot, one at a time. Our table couldn’t support all six of them crowding around it, which sort of felt like a shame. Maybe there was a knee-high table that would be appropriate for my partners? Something to look into. I’d have to make sure it was round.
Chansey was an obligate herbivore, so hot pot night didn’t have any lab meat, but there were more than enough vegetables and tofu to make up for the lack. We even had a few berries to soak in the spicy broth. The Cheri berries were too much heat for Mom and I, when combined with the broth, but Chansey and my knights loved them.
By the end of the night, I could hardly feel my tongue, and both Mom and I were dripping with sweat. Chansey’s normally pink complexion had deepened into a rosy red, and she sat back from the table with a satisfied burp. My knights seemed full as well. They’d been a lot more satisfied ever since I started adding certain vitamins and minerals to their food. I was seeing the result in their shells as well. Not even a week into their new food regime, and their carapaces looked noticeably shinier, even without me putting in the effort to wax them.
I felt a pang of guilt. I’d really been depriving them of vital components to their diet, otherwise the change wouldn’t have been so noticeable so quickly. It was tough, not having any point of comparison for my knights’ status. I couldn’t check their health against any other Falinks. As far as I knew, they were the only ones in Ferrum. The best I could do was keep comprehensive notes about their health and fitness, but without a frame of reference, the numbers could only tell me so much. Sure, maybe they gained a kilo each so far this summer, but was that a good thing? Bad? Just average growth? I had no way to know, and it was really starting to get to me.
If only I had some way to get information from Galar. Not for the first time, I wished my home region wasn’t so insular. We had no way to access the net in other regions, and it was intensely frustrating. It made sense. According to what we’d learned in computers class; Ferrum didn’t have many Porygons, so linking to a more powerful region’s network would be an immense security risk, and while I could appreciate that, it did little to alleviate my frustration at how little knowledge there was available here for taking care of my knights.
A hand touched my shoulder, and I found myself drawn out of my reverie by my Mom’s partner. She was holding a chess board in one hand, and once she had my attention, she pointed at the kitchen table, a question on her face.
“Sure Chansey,” I said with a smile, thankful for the respite from my brooding thoughts. “I’m down for a game.”
“Chansey, Chanse!” Mom’s partner excitedly started setting up the board, pulling out the cheap, plastic pieces from their cloth bag and setting them on the checkered stage. Mom made sure to buy pink and white pieces for Chansey, and no points for guessing which color the Egg Pokémon always chose.
I took the opposite side of the board, finishing the setup for white and pondering my first move. As I considered my options, I heard a call from behind me, one tinged with curiosity. I turned, and found a small stack of Falinks peering over my shoulder, Lance on top, looking at the board game on the table.
“Oh, huh, I guess I haven’t shown you guys chess yet. It’s Chansey’s favorite pastime. I– dabble.” Which was to say, I wasn’t very good. Mom was a lot better, but she and Chansey had their own games going. Supposedly, they had a magnetic board set up at each of the centers and hospitals where they rotated, and they’d each play one move a day, one when they came in, and a response when they finished up for the evening.
“Here, Chansey, do you mind if I show them the rules?”
Mom’s partner gestured munificently for me to go ahead, so I set about explaining how each piece moves, and what the eventual goal of chess was. “And once you have your opponent’s Nidoking surrounded, threatened, but unable to go to any other spaces, you win the game. Understand?”
They didn’t, but I could hardly hold it against them. Chess was a complicated game. “Here, you all get up on a chair or the table and watch us play a game. I promise it will make more sense once you see it in action.”
Without all of the food on the table, there was plenty of room for my knights, but it still ended up feeling crowded as they jostled close to the board so they could watch us move the pieces with keen interest.
“Alright Chansey, let’s get started. Nidoran E4.”
-
I lost the first game. And the next game. And the game after that. I was able to draw the fourth, at least. By then, my knights were making recommendations. Lance was the most vocal, but all of them had a suggestion here or there. They weren’t good suggestions, usually, but I appreciated the spirit.
Unfortunately, they had a tendency to tunnel on what pieces they could take while ignoring the situation of the board around it. I tried not to read too much into it. That was pretty much always how beginners played.
More surprisingly, they watched the whole time, and even asked if they could play a game with me after Chansey was done. I hadn’t seen them sit so still for anything. Not the TV, not a lecture, not even for food and grooming. I guess they found the board game really engaging. We’d have to find time for more games. Maybe facing each other on a tabletop could help them foster some independence from one another. Something to consider.
For chess, I let all six of them work together against me. They took two quick losses, and then slowed down their play a lot for the third game, muttering amongst each other, and discussing their moves at length.
It was late when we finally finished that last game. I still won it, but I was surprised by how close it was. Turns out, when they all put their heads together, my knights almost equaled one semi-competent twelve-year old. Their combined wisdom was certainly better than I would have expected from just a few hours spent watching and playing. Or maybe I was just worse at chess than I thought?
I decided to try to work some time for games into our training schedule. They clearly enjoyed chess, so why not take advantage of that to foster their tactical acumen? Not to mention the potential benefit in getting them to think for themselves. Fostering that sense of independence was one of my biggest ongoing goals, even if it might cause a little bit of friction in the future.
So much to do, so little time. My knights kept me busy, and after reviewing my planner again, I was positive that there really hadn’t been any way I could have reasonably taken care of Wugtrio. That certainty did a bit to dull the stinging pain in my heart. My chest still hurt, but at the end of the day, I’d felt worse before. This was nothing compared to finding out that I had synergy sickness. That I could never achieve my dreams.
I had recovered from that. Or– I was recovering. I’d get over this too. Tomorrow was a new day. Chansey was home, my knights were with me, and I was going to be a ranger. We had more training, more hunting, more games, and mail to keep an eye out for. We were busy.
Maybe even busy enough that I couldn’t spare any time for being hurt. That’d be nice.
