Chapter Text
For a blissful moment, he died.
That was okay.
The silence was more than welcome. The voice of his mind finally fell still. A blessed relief. There had been nothing worth listening to rattling around his skull for a good while.
The funny part — he couldn’t narrow down the how. What finally turned out his lights?
It could have been anything at this point. He'd made a lot of bad calls lately, and those always had a nasty habit of way of coming back to bite him.
In the end, his money was on a bad score. Maybe one of his dealers finally got sick of his begging and spiked him. Maybe it was just a bad batch. The swell of relief had certainly hit harder then usual.
Hey, gotta scratch the itch, right?
Not anymore.
Thank Christ. Finally. It was over.
There'd been a cold breeze, a clear but frigid night, one where he'd been shambling about in the dark, babbling and gone. That moon had been so bright, he remembered. Bright enough to see by, for what little good that did him.
In the end, he passed alone in a snowbank behind a bowling alley, choking on puke and bliss in the quiet hours of a dark winter night.
And for a moment...
One beautiful moment...
Finally...
It was quiet.
...and then it wasn't.
Noise and light. Light and noise.
Figures.
Couldn't even die right.
Sensation came jaggedly back, like mismatched puzzle pieces crudely shoved together. He was in a void of some kind, all big empty nothingness. Not dark, not bright, only the sense of being. He didn’t have a body to look around with, but he could still see. Was he just a floating pair of eyes at this point?
Who knew?
Who cared?
The... things in front of him?
Doubtful — one looked like a mutated hairless alien cat, the other looked like said cat’s older, tougher brother who’d just come out of a stint in prison with nothing to do all day but lift and read masculine self-help grift philosophy.
Is this what people actually saw when they died?
He’d expected his life to flash before his eyes, but maybe it was better this way. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to watch that whole mess again.
Whatever the creatures were, they were clearly talking somehow. He couldn’t hear anything, their mouths didn't move, but it seemed like they were having an argument. Their expressions shifted silently and a few gestures were made in his general direction. The big one looked the more pissed-off, and he assumed it was about him — or maybe that was just how it normally looked.
Then the little one suddenly flew up to him, all sparkling big blue eyes.
“Hiya!”
Oh, fuck. Now it was talking to him.
He didn’t have a mouth, but somehow the words came out anyway.
“Uh… hey?”
“So, listen. There’s been a bit of a mix up,” the little space cat said. “You've died, and now you're here! Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do to fix things on our end.”
“...Oh.”
What the hell do you even say to that?
“You were supposed to go somewhere else, but I guess you must have… slipped through the cracks?” The creature seemed almost apologetic.
He resisted the urge to scratch himself. There was nothing to scratch anymore. “So are you guys supposed to be angels?”
The pair exchanged a glance. The bigger one seemed unimpressed. “Not really, no." The little one remained contrite. "This is a hobby of mine. I like to see what washes up from the beyond.”
“A hobby.” He looked around again at the empty void. “Really?”
“Yep! Every once and a while something will find its way over. Today, that was you! Don't worry, I'm not going to throw you back! I usually try to work you into the cycle somewhere. I’m showing my kid the ropes today!”
“I am not your child.” Another voice, deep and strong, rattled his imaginary ears. The bigger creature finally made itself heard. “You are my progenitor, nothing more.”
The small one waved a paw around. “Anyway, like I said — big mix-up, sorry about the confusion, but there’s no going back now! Just try and think of this like an adventure!”
“I don’t—”
“It’ll be fun, trust me! Normally, I like to send you guys on to this little pocket I run on the side, but they don’t need any help at the moment… so I’m thinking you get to go to the big leagues.”
“What do you—”
“Twooey, you want to do the honors?”
“No.”
“Tough! Go on, he’ll be your first! We’ve all done it. Well, except Palkia, but he’s a big ‘ole grump.”
“What the fuck is going—”
“I do not like the look of this one. His aura is… dirty.”
“Hey! Are you even listening?”
“Well yeah, normally they come a little more vetted, but his Arceus is apparently asleep at the wheel. Beggars can’t be choosers, Twooey.”
“If it will cease your endless exuberance, fine. And stop calling me that.”
The larger one — Twooey — finally floated over to him. God, it really was a mean-looking son of a bitch. He would have backed up a few steps if he had the legs to move.
“You,” the thing said. “I do not like you.”
“Dude, I don’t even know you," he protested. “What the hell is happening?”
“I am attempting to send you onward.” Tooey audibly grunted, closing its eyes. “Human; I see the measure of your soul, and find it greatly disappointing. Thankfully, there isn't enough of you left to refashion your original form. I wouldn't stand someone like you to weild authority over my kind anyway. So, I will shape you a new vessel. Master it or rot in another gutter — it matters little to me.”
“Hey man, fuck you too.”
The little one cheerfully waved stubby arm at him. “Good luck! We'll check in later! Don’t forget to write!”
There came a blinding flash of purple-pink light, and everything vanished.
When he finally came to, it was in a depressingly familiar environment. Enough to think it all might have been a fucked-up dream brought on by fever or hypothermia or whatever.
After all that, the grit and grime of a back alley was almost welcome. Something was off, though. His eyes blinked, taking in the sights.
Everything seemed… bigger.
Or maybe he was… smaller?
He was laying on his back in the shadow of a dumpster, sprawled on wet, cracked pavement. A streetlight overhead vainly flickered, more off than on.
The stars above were blazing, brighter than he’d ever seen. He lost himself staring for a moment, then rubbed at his face.
That was a mistake. Everything was suddenly wrong. His arms didn’t move the same way, his hands weren’t right, his face felt different, and by the time he caught himself, he was staring at two little brown paws.
Paws.
Attached to his... legs.
Attached to…
“Fwhat… hgh fhuck?”
Oh, God. Even his voice sounded different. Higher pitched, kind of squeaky. Was that really him? Just moving his mouth to speak felt weird, the words slurring. His tongue felt around, finding sharp little teeth arranged in an unfamiliar way. He immediately felt himself starting to drool. His eyes immediately crossed as he noticed a little nose sticking out into his lower field of vision — brown, with a black tip.
A… muzzle? Snout?
Every little twitch brought a new sensation of discomfort. He felt the urge to heave. Each piece of him moved oddly, felt cramped, every breath of his tiny chest was strange and raw.
It felt like his meat had been stapled onto the wrong skeleton. He tried, but the body he was stuffed inside simply didn’t move like how he knew.
He somehow managed to look down at himself. A thick collar of soft pale fur ringed his neck. The rest of him was also furred, but thinner, shorter sandy brown. Between his paws, his legs —
Oh, thank God.
He still had his junk. It was just… Christ. He didn't think he could look right now.
His nuts were fuzzy.
Something further out from his legs thrashed a bit, as if responding to his distress, and he felt a weird tugging on the base of his spine. He groaned when he saw it. A tail. A fucking tail, thick and bushy, with a cream colored tip.
“Nho… nhooo!” It was all too much. This was beyond a fever dream. This was a bad trip, and it had him in its clutches.
He couldn't breathe. The breaths came fast, shallow, fluttery. His panicked thoughts tumbled over themselves and suddenly—
Darkness.
He must have passed out. Some time had passed before he woke again.
Upon waking, he managed to flail onto his side, trembling with the effort. Still stuck in that same horrific, furry prison.
There was a banging sound from up above. The dumpster lid cracked open, a pair of red eyes peering out.
“Well, well! What’s this?” A voice, grating and oily.
With the rustle of disturbed garbage, its owner squeezed out from under the lid and dropped down next to him on the concrete.
“Oh, you’re new. Trying to muscle in on my spot?” it said, moving into the light.
He felt his jaw slacken in surprise, drool spilling out and onto the concrete. The creature stood on two stumpy legs in the flickering light, covered in white fur slashed through with a jagged red streak. Its arms, crossed over its front, had claws the size of steak knives. He’d seen a taxidermied grizzly bear once when he was a kid — some dumb school field trip to a ranger station in the woods — and spent a lot of time gaping at the beast's natural weapons. Huge, curved, dangerous. These claws reminded him of that grizzly.
And it was talking. After the space cats, he wasn't as surprised by that as he should have been.
“F’who?” he mumbled thickly, drooling around his unfamiliar tongue. “F’hwat are yhou?”
“Zangoose,” it grunted. “Also, zangoose. Are you sick or something? I don’t want whatever you've got.”
“I’unno,” he managed. “I… nheed help.”
Zangoose shrugged. “So go to one of those human healers. Quit stinkin’ up my alley.”
“Help, pleashe,” he gurgled, flopping drunkenly around. “Canh’t… mhove.”
“Not my problem, ‘vee. You get yourself out of here, or I'll make you.” Zangoose waggled those huge claws at him. They glinted in the sputtering streetlight.
He thrashed away at the sight, panic rising anew. Somehow his little legs ended up underneath him. He pushed, quivering with the strain, and stood. On four legs, it felt like doing one of those bullshit yoga poses.
“That’s it,” Zangoose drawled. “Now scram. Healer's just around the corner.”
He gasped with the effort it took to stay standing. He shook more than when in withdrawal. He probably looked ridiculous, like a newborn deer. Everything trembled as muscles he’d never used held him up.
Just, put out a hand — a paw?
He reached out a little, his left, leaned forward, put the paw down, and shifted himself forward. But now he was stretched out. How was he supposed to—
“Oh, for Mew’s sake, just get out already!”
Something hit him in the ass. Hard.
Everything spun. He felt weightless for a moment, before crashing back down to earth, rolling to a stop in the grime and muck. He’d been kicked some distance away, to where the alley opened up into a street.
“Eaht shit, yhou stupihd raccoon fhuck!” He screeched over his shoulder as he pulled himself up again. It wasn’t as hard, now that he’d done it once, but still he trembled.
Getting to the end of the alley was exhausting. He had to focus on moving each leg, one at a time, slowly shifting his weight, shaking like a leaf in the wind the whole time. A long string of expletives slurred their way through his clenched teeth. By the time he reached the sidewalk, he was more tired than he’d ever been.
At the street, he turned, looking around. He had no idea where he was. It was certainly warmer here, and dry. Sure as hell beat winter back home. It was late night, so nobody was out walking. The buildings were close together, and looked a bit dated, but mostly clean. A city?
He saw some writing on a sign above a door across the street. It looked like unintelligible gibberish.
Great. Fuckin’ great. Goddamn moon-rune heiroglyphic bullshit.
He couldn't even read.
Further down the road, a block away, sat a squat white building with a red roof. It was one of the only spots on the street with lights still on.
Was that the healer? It was so far…
He shook his head in frustration. A pair of something flapped about atop, pulling at his scalp. He froze. There seemed to be… are those ears? Just thinking about them made them twitch. He could feel the pulling of muscles on the sides of his head as they swiveled around.
“Fhuck,” he grunted, taking a step. “Fhuck!” Another step.
Focus. Step.
“Fhuck.”
Focus. Step.
“Ga-dammit!”
His legs were so small. This was taking forever.
He put two paws forward this time, stretching himself out, and then hopped both his back legs up, arching his back.
Reach.
Hop.
Reach.
Hop.
It looked stupid as hell, but it sped things along some.
Thankfully, the door to the building slid open when he got in front of it. A man was walking out, but froze as he looked down. Way down.
Holy — wow, he really was small. The man looked enormous, but couldn’t have been more than average height from how far he came up the doorway.
“Uh… hey there, little guy,” the man said uncertainly. “You okay?”
“Do I hlook fhuckin’ ohkay!?” he spat, shuddering.
The man looked over his shoulder, through the still-opened door. “Nurse Joy? I need some help out here!”
He let himself slump to the ground, exhausted. The man knelt next to him. “You poor thing. Looks like you’ve really been through it.” Then the man was reaching out, running fingers through his fluffy coat.
“What the — dohn’t pet me, asshohle!” he flinched away and sloppily batted at the man’s hand, who simply chuckled and leaned back.
A second figure quickly appeared at the doorway, a woman with pink hair wearing a white apron and classic nurse hat, complete with red cross.
This must be Nurse Joy.
“Arceus!” she cried, leaning over towards him. “An eevee? Where’s it's trainer? What happened?”
“It was stumbling up to the door as I came through,” the man said. “He's not moving well, might be hurt.”
“One moment,” said the nurse. “Chansey?” she called over her shoulder. “Get the small stretcher, bring it out front!”
“Is there anything I can do?” asked the man.
“No thank you, sir. We’ll handle things from here.”
“Okay. I guess I’ll leave you to it." The man gave him a smile, reaching out again. “Get well soon, little guy!” He paused at the sight of snarl. "A fighter, huh? You know, I've got a daughter who might be interested in you. This might be your lucky day!"
“You trhy that pehtting shit aghain an’ I’ll bhite your fhingers off, fhuckfhace,” he growled as the man merely withdrew, grinning, and turned away into the night. He felt something flex hard on his butt — was that his tail lashing around?
A gasp. More movement through the door. Now a large pink… blob with tiny stubs for arms waddled through with a small stretcher.
“Oh, goodness! Such language!” said the blob.
“Chansey, please help me get him on,” commanded the nurse, apparently unconcerned.
Together, they gently rolled him onto the stretcher and lifted. The blob had to do something like an overhead press to keep the thing level, short as it was. He found himself hustled back through some kind of reception lobby, through a set of swinging doors, and into a sterile hallway.
Before he knew it, he found himself alone on the table of what looked the most futuristic veterinarian’s clinic he'd ever seen. The nurse smiled gently as she put on some nitrile gloves.
“Alright, let’s have a look at you,” she said, and poked and prodded at him with a variety of instruments, muttering as she did so. It was like a normal visit to the doctor, except he was less than two feet tall and a fucking quaduped.
“Whas goin’ on with me, dhoc?” he slurred at her, still fumbling around his tongue.
“Eevee, male,” she replied, apparently not hearing him. “Fully grown, underweight, ribs showing, dehydrated.” She looked closely at him. “Small lacerations and contusions on most of the body. Excessive salivation, but no evidence of obstructions. Likely been in a fight recently. Exhibiting odd movement, muscle contractions and shivering. Poisoning?”
“Hey! Whas’ happened to me?!” he barked at her, growing impatient.
She shone a light in his eye.
“Ow! Bitch!”
“Regular pupil response, no physical tinge to denote toxins in system… mild concussion, perhaps.” She hummed in thought. “We’ll have to hold you overnight to see if there’s any motor skill issues. Oh!” She started. “I almost forgot the capture check.” She pulled out a strange ball from her pocket. It was about the size of a golf ball until she pressed a button, and it expanded to almost an orange. It was half red, half white with a black line separating the hemispheres.
It looked… really familiar.
“One moment please,” she said, and touched the ball to his head. "Let's check and see..."
Everything turned red.
He was hot and cold all at once, floating and falling and he had become light itself and—
—more darkness, encapsulating him on all sides.
By reflex he pushed back, but he wasn’t sure if he had anything to resist with anymore.
The world exploded into light and noise and color. He blinked, clearing sparkles from his eyes as he looked around the examination room again. “Fwhat the hell, hlady!?” he shouted, trying to get away but immediately falling over on the slippery metal.
The nurse was quickly at his side, crooning and petting him gently. It felt oddly nice, but he still managed to wriggle away, pressing up against the wall.
“Shh, shh, poor thing,” murmured the nurse. “You don’t even have a trainer? Around these parts, that’s surprising. You must have been on your own for a long time.”
“Yhou—” he wheezed, “ —coulhd yhou not?!”
Being kicked around an alley was an insult he could stand. Being treated like an animal was new. It would help immensly if he wasn't still drooling like an idiot, though. He put some effort to wrangle his mouth together just in time for the pink blob to waddle into the room.
“Nurse Joy,” it chirped. “You’re needed at the front desk.”
“What’s that, Chansey? I’ll be right out. You finish up here, okay? Our friend just needs to get patched up and rest. Light observation. I'll get the rescue shelter on the line.” With that, she removed her gloves, gave him another smile, and left.
When she was gone, he fixed the pink blob a glare. "Dhon't come nhear me,” he warned. It would have been threatening, but he sounded like a squeaky toy.
The blob — Chansey — simply gave him a stern look. “Please don’t worry, I’m only here to help! I’m a qualified PokéCenter nurse assistant.”
“...The fuck’s a PokéCenter?”
Chansey frowned at him. The expression looked ridiculous on that round, pink face. “Language, dear. This is a place of healing, where all pokémon can come and seek aid. Normally, we only see trainer teams come by after battles. I confess, this is my first time working with a wildling, but I will do the best I can to accommodate.”
“I have so mhany questions,” he said wetly, ignoring a gob of saliva dripping down his chin. “Why am I hlike this?”
“Like what, dear?”
He held up one of his shaking paws to her. “Hlike this?”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“Hlook, Chansey, I am not—” he stamped his paw on the table. It sounded pitiful, “—shupposed to bhe this.”
“An… eevee?”
“Shure, whatever that is. Bhut nhot me. I’m human. Like the nurse!”
Chansey drew closer, staring intently. Despite the fact it resembled a giant pink beanbag, he found himself shrinking back again.
Chansey eventually said, “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head, dear?”
“Nho I didn’t — I mhean yes, some jerkass hoofed me like I whas the kickoff ball —”
“Language!” she chided.
“—bhut I swear to Ghod, I’m nhot pulling your leg.”
Chansey frowned, but seemed thoughtful. “I’ll see about putting a note in your file. If you’re telling the truth, you’ll need to get a psychic pokémon to corroborate your story to the humans for them to believe you. They don’t really understand us very well.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure what they could even do about it.”
His heart sank.
“Yhou keep shaying that — pokémon.” Where had he heard that before? He racked his brain, but answers weren't forthcoming.
“Yes,” she said uncertainly. “It’s, um, us.”
“I thought yhour name was Chansey. And I was… what did yhou call me?”
“I am a chansey. My name is also Chansey. You are an eevee, dear.”
“Shure, one of those," he grumbled. "My nhame is Charlie.”
“Charlie... that's a human-style name, but you're not with a trainer? You've never been caught?"
He shook his head, more confused than ever.
"Curious.” Chansey sighed, smiling a little once again. “Let's talk more as I treat your wounds. Since you don’t have a ball, we’ll have to do this the old fashioned way.”
Charlie cocked his head at her. “Whaddaya mean, bhall? I have two of those. I checked.” He glanced down, eyes widening. “Wait. Am I shupposed to have mhore?”
He received a flat look in return.
Naomi was positively vibrating with excitement. Dad had come home last night with a story after a trip to the PokéCenter when his shift let out.
An eevee?
Here?
In Gateon Port, of all places?
The pokémon was for sure ending up at the rescue center. Dad had said the poor thing was suffering some kind of movement issue, but that didn’t bother her. Her trainer's license was Class-IV; she was certified to care for pokémon that required rehabilitation and physical therapy.
She glanced down at Mayday, her poochyena, who faithfully trotted on three legs by her side, and grinned.
All those extra hours working with Mom at the PokéCenter were about to pay off. She could help this eevee. She could try to adopt him, especially if nobody had claimed him, and she’d be the first one in line. She’d finally have two pokémon!
Her eyes sparkled. She’d be able to join the Gym Circuit in time. Orre had a thing for double battles, and as such a trainer was required by law to be able to field at least two pokémon before signing up for the upcoming inaugural season.
All the region was still abuzz with the news. Finally, after years of work, the Orre region was getting their own Pokémon League. She couldn’t believe it. The Colosseum was one thing — but this was going to be huge.
Naomi had always dreamed of going on a journey one day, just like her dad. He was from Alola, and had been there when they got their own League. He had even made it into the Manalo Conference, but never got past the preliminaries.
The way Dad talked about it; the friends he’d made, the battles won and lost… it was heady stuff for a sixteen-year-old girl on the cusp of her own journey.
She was ready.
She could do this!
And so, skidding to a halt outside Gateon’s pokémon rescue, Mayday hot on her heels, she did her best to put on an air of calm and control. She couldn’t entirely wipe the grin off her face.
The man at the front desk took her pre-written application for the eevee, surprised that she hadn’t asked to see the updated list of available pokémon, but everything was in order.
“Let’s see how you two get along,” he said, leading her into the back. “I’ll be frank, this one might be a real special case. I’ve never seen a ‘vee this bad tempered."
She exchanged a glance with Mayday, but said nothing.
The man led them further into the rear of the complex, to a room with thick glass observation windows on the walls, letting her see into a turfed play area with lots of toys and obstacles for pokémon to climb and run around on.
“He’s in there?” she breathed. "Right now?"
“Not yet. I’ll bring him out. You just go on in and make yourself comfortable.”
Naomi nodded and entered, Mayday right beside her, tail wagging. The poochyena seemed excited, too. That made sense. She was getting a partner today as well. They’d be battling side by side!
She couldn’t stop from hugging herself.
They settled down on a set of wooden blocks large enough to jump up on. She took one, Mayday took the other, climbing up easily despite the missing leg. She scratched the her starter behind the ear.
“Nervous, girl?” she asked.
“Chyen,” Mayday growled firmly, but she then added a softer, “Ye-na.”
After a moment, the door on the far wall opened and the man from the front desk returned, now holding a large bundle in his arms. It was squirming somewhat violently. The man gingerly set the bundle down, but didn’t remove his hands, keeping the pokémon within pinned.
“Are you sure you’re interested in this one?” the man asked again, hesitant. “He’s been nothing but trouble since he got here.”
“Absolutely,” said Naomi. “Let him out.”
The man sighed, but removed his hands and immediately took several quick paces backwards.
The blanket exploded into motion, thrashing around. A brown blur tumbled out, snarling and flailing about. Mayday was on her paws in an instant, ears high.
Naomi blinked, more than suprised at what she saw.
They hadn't been kidding. This eevee looked like he had been through the wringer. His fur was all kinds of tangled and filthy, and there was a wild, desperate look in his eyes. His tongue hung limply out the side of his mouth, a thin line of drool trailing from it. There were also a few bandages plastered onto him. Despite all this, he shivered and shuddered and stood, tail lashing.
His dark eyes eventually settled on her and Mayday. They narrowed. He was clearly wary.
Naomi sized him up, thinking. He was on the larger side for an eevee, but thin. She wondered how much he’d fill out with diet and training. A big, bruising vaporeon or umbreon would be a huge asset to any team.
“Vey vey!” he barked at them. “Ee-voi!”
“Poochye,” Mayday growled back, jumping down from the blocks, and approached him. The eevee snarled at her as she got right up to him, but didn’t move otherwise.
“Careful, May,” she warned.
Her poochyena shot a look over one shoulder, like she was mildly insulted. Mayday leaned forward and sniffed at the eevee, before limping around and smelling at his shivering rear.
“Vee!” he squeaked, falling forward into a tangle of limbs. The eevee shot a glare at the other pokémon she could only describe as shock. He kicked out with a jittery leg, catching Mayday on the jaw.
Then Mayday was on him in a flash, pinning him down with a single paw. The eevee squirmed underneath her, and they exchanged a rapid series of barks and growls.
She wasn't worried. She knew Mayday could be trusted. They were just working something out.
Still, not for the first time, she wondered what it would be like to truly understand pokémon. What were they talking about?
“Bitch, if yhou don’t get off me in fhive seconds I’m gonna turn yhou into a throw pillow!”
“You struck me.”
“Get the fhuck—” Charlie sputtered, “because you shoved your nose up my ass!”
The dog-thing frowned down at him. “That is where you take scent.” She paused. “Did you not wish to take mine?”
“NO!?”
He impotently thrashed around again, but shit was she strong, easily shoving him firmly back into the ground.
“Agh, come on!”
“No. Apologize. There will be respect if we are to be partners.”
“Partners?” he blinked, confused. “I thought I whas getting, like, adopted.”
“Yes. By my Mistress.” She looked up at the teenage girl sitting close by, intently watching. “Her name is Naomi. She has been very good to me.”
He stared. “That is a girl. That's a teenage girl. I’m a ghrown ass mhan!”
“You are an eevee,” she replied. "And she is a capable trainer."
“Oh my fuckin’ — if I had a tenner fhor every time I’ve heard…" Charlie shook his head. "Look, I'm a prhoud Canadian citizen! I got rights,” he growled. “Ghet. Off. Me!”
She stepped away, but prodded him with her paw. “Apologize.”
He weakly swatted at her, wincing. “Fhine, shit! I’m sorry I ohver-reacted. Warn a guy nehxt time. I wahsn’t even wearing pants!”
“Why would you wear pants? You are—”
“—an eevee, yeah! Jesus Christ on a bhike, I ghet it!”
Charlie struggled back up. He was doing a lot of that, lately. Struggling. But he still stood, staring the… dog creature in the eye as best as he could. They were roughly the same size, though she was a little larger, and much more solidly built, with a thick neck and powerful jaws.
“So,” he muttered, “who’re you? Ahre yhou a pokémon, too? What happens nhow?”
“I am called Mayday," she said. "I am a poochyena. Now, you will introduce yourself to my Mistress. If you approve of one other, she will capture you and we shall return home together.”
That gave him pause. “I have a choice?”
The dark canine seemed genuinely off-put. “Of course. Mistress Naomi would never force a pokémon into service. She is a kind, caring human. If your illness is debilitating, she will be able to assist.” She turned to the side a bit, revealing to him that her rear-right leg was missing above the… knee? He forgot how backwards legs worked.
Charlie also belatedly realized he’d just gotten his ass pinned by a dog with three fuckin’ legs.
Taking some absolutely historic L’s, lately.
“Whait. My illness?” he asked.
“You shake like a lost pup in the cold,” Mayday pointed out.
“Hey, easy. I'm trhyin' here. I’m rhunning human software on pokémon hardwhare," he grumbled.
Mayday blinked.
“What?”
“I’m human,” he explained for what felt like the hundredth time already. “Or, I used to be? I could also have lost my ghoddamn mind. Maybe I finally fried my bhrains for good. I was on a heroic amount of shit last night.” He huffed, tossing his head. “Yhou’re a talking animal. I’m a talking animal. Nhobody understands me except yhou pokémon.”
“You are an—”
“—please don’t fhuckin’ say it again.”
“...”
Mayday looked at her trainer, then back to him. “I would still recommend coming with us. Naomi will be able to assist with your… condition.”
“You dhon’t believe me?”
“I think that you have convinced yourself of something that is not true.”
Charlie looked down. “... Whatever. Fhine. Let's ghet this over with.”
Mayday nodded, apparently satisfied.
Naomi got down on her knees as Mayday brought the eevee over to her. She watched intently as he stumbled about. He looked more like a newborn pokémon than an adult with an injury or illness. How odd.
“Hey there, cutie,” she cooed as they came up to her. “I'm Naomi! I've heard a lot about you.”
The eevee sat down a couple feet away, a defiant scowl on his face, but looked up at her.
“I've been looking for a new partner to add to my team," Naomi explained. "I was hoping you'd be interested."
“...Vee?” He cocked his head, clearly confused.
“Chye!” Mayday added, nodding.
They conversed back and forth for another moment, more pokémon barks and cries.
Then Mayday pawed at her leg. “Pooch-yena.”
Naomi scratched her behind the ears. She could sometimes understand what her pokémon wanted, but it was far from a sure thing. She had a feeling there was some explaining needed.
She gave the eevee a smile. “Mayday and I like battling together. We both want to compete as a real team! People and pokémon love to battle around here. It's super fun!”
“Voi?”
“Chye-chye,” Mayday replied.
He was still clearly confused about it. “Uhh, hang on.” She quickly pulled her phone out and looked up a clip. “What I'm about to show you is from last year's Ever Grande Conference. That's over in Hoenn.” She flipped the phone back around to the eevee and pressed play.
Naomi eagerly watched the eevee's focus tighten instantly.
“...Magmortar, use Fire Blast!”
There came the sound of a loud whooshing roar from the phone's speakers. The evee's face was briefly illuminated by a bright flash from the screen.
“Raichu, evade with Dig! Use the terrain to surprise it!”
A gasp from the observing crowd. Then, a sharp crack of electricity. A pause, followed by a meaty thud.
“Magmortar is unable to battle! The victory goes to Alex of Slateport City!”
Naomi lowered her phone, grinning. “Pretty cool stuff, huh?”
The eevee looked completely incredulous. “Vee! Ee-vee-vee?” He turned to Mayday, who nodded enthusiastically.
The eevee's eyes narrowed. Naomi could practically hear gears turning in his head.
“Even if you don't want to battle, I've been working at a PokéCenter alongside my mom after school for years now. I can help you move around again and get nice and strong. I could even help you evolve if you wanted. We can do something about fixing your coat, too!” Naomi eagerly explained. “I just need to have two pokémon to sign up for the Gym Circuit. Even if you aren't interested, I'll then be able to go find another to take your spot. If you don't like being with me, we can return you here or ask the Rangers to release you back into the wild.” She grinned. “But I don't think you'll want to go back.”
The eevee glanced between the two of them, who were sitting and watching him attentively, then looked around the play room they were in. He gave a grunt, then slowly shook his head.
“Vey,” he finally barked, raising up a wobbly paw to her.
He wanted to shake? Naomi could have screamed with joy. “You'll give it a shot?”
“Vee.” He stared only at her for a long while. Then, a frown, but alongside a resigned nod.
She took his tiny paw in her hand and shook it.
Mayday's tail started wagging.
“Okay,” Naomi breathed. “Okay. Here, let's get you into a ball, and then we can go home!" She rummaged around in her bag and pulled out a standard pokéball.
The eevee seemed uncertain, but didn't move as she pressed it to the top of his head.
With a signature pop-hiss, the pokemon disappeared into the ball with a flash of red light. Naomi caught it before it could drop, feeling it shudder and shake.
It took nearly twenty seconds, the full duration of a capture. Naomi spent it with her heart in her throat, before the ball finally stopped shaking and clicked itself shut.
“Yes! Yes!” Naomi jumped up and down. Beside her, Mayday spun in a circle, barking. “Orre League, here we come!”