Chapter 9: Camphrier Town – Le Début

Sitting in the lobby of the Pokémon Center, I mentally sigh to myself. Pokémon, as it turns out, are expensive to keep. I never really paid that much attention to the lab’s expenses, but dang! Even keeping three pokémon is going to get costly. Basic chow can be cheap, but poor for my pokémon’s health.

 

With Robin, I can probably go to a butcher and pick up some meat.

 

Hazel…I’ve watched her absorb minerals from a riverbed before. She’ll be fine.

 

And Cecilia is enthused by hydrangeas…

 

Even still, my mom can’t subsidize everything forever. I’m going to have to get smart about this if I don’t want to pauper my own mom. The League, if you sign a contract with them, can give people a stipend based on…essentially popularity.

 

However, this is basically giving your soul up to bureaucracy if you go and beg for one. No, you have to have them come to you, so that you can have the upper hand in negotiations. You have rights…most of the time.

 

I lean back against the pleather bench, head dangling on the edge. Eyes drifting, I see a local news channel broadcasting something, but I can’t really make out what. Huh…might be a good way to pass the time: catch up on current events.

 

“Let’s see here,” I mumble to myself as I pull out my phone. Hmm, several events, not much to see here. Miltank egg held twins, debates over extent of pokémon-human relations, mysterious pokémon turned out to be a croissant…

 

What about yesterday?

 

“Oh!” I exclaim, getting the attention of the few other patrons here. “Sorry, nothing.” They all just turn back to their business, like clockwork. Anyway, here it says that Subway Boss Ingo had disappeared in the night, much to the distress of his younger brother.

 

Emmet, as it turns out, has kept the subway operational, but he’s not doing so well emotionally.

 

That’s…a shame. Personally, I’m fond of the subway brothers, even if I’ve never met them. Their almost ridiculous enthusiasm is matched by their dedication to keeping the Unova subway functional. Some people call themselves subway connoisseurs, but I call myself a ferroequinologist.

 

I like trains, too. Especially the steam locomotives of old. Like the…Tom Thumb…? Huh…

 

Okay. I’ve had a tangential thought. Something is wrong with my head. I’ve been fine for the past eighteen-ish years, and my memory had never failed me. As of late, I’ve had discrepancies in my memories of things that somehow both exist and do not exist. Simultaneous déjà vu and jamais vu.

 

It’s not right. I…I need to see a doctor. No, wait. Could they do anything? Prescribe me some medicine, sure. Maybe send me to see a Psychic specialist. That’s expensive though… Catch a Psychic-type pokémon? None of the first evolution ones are strong enough to scan my minds. I’d need something like a Gardevoir, Gothitelle, or Hatterene to help me, and those pokémon are hard to raise.

 

Not just raise, but to even evolve a pokémon to that level requires effort not many can give in their lifetimes. Those that can are typically destined for becoming a gym leader or champion. In fact, 89% of trainers never make it through the league challenge—instead stopping at most halfway—due to some extenuating circumstances: money, love, homesickness, depression, etc.

 

I’ll figure something out. I know I can. I’ve been mostly self-sufficient this long; I can do a little more.

 

Anyway, Ingo! Weird how he was reportedly whisked away in the midst of the night. Detectives found no traces of psychic residue from a Teleport, and no other signs of a break-in. Either some kind of undetectable crack in reality we have little to no understanding of took him, or a pokémon with power much more vast than can be imagined took him.

 

I don’t know which one scares me more.

 

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*Ding!*

 

With a mechanical hiss of hydraulics pushing—what is essentially—a blast door to the emergency care area open, Nurse Joy and her Wigglytuff step through, looking around until their gazes fall on me, then walking over towards me. As she approaches, I stand up to meet her.

 

“Are you the trainer that brought in the Alolan Vulpix?” She asks, confirming my identity.

 

“Yes. Yes, I am. Are they alright? I’ve handled Vulpix before and that one was shockingly light.”

 

Nurse Joy gives me a hopeful smile. “She was on the verge of death, but she’ll be okay now. It was lucky that you were nearby to help, or she might not have made it.” She. Huh, female. Noted. I look towards the door, solid enough that my arms would have to target the, much softer, surround wall to penetrate inside.

 

…That sounded wrong.

 

Following my line of sight, Nurse Joy gives me a sigh. “You won’t be able to see her right now. She’ll have to stay here a few days to recover.”

 

I look down into her eyes. “That’s fine. Do you have any open rooms?”

 

———————————————————————————————————————

 

After dropping my things off in my room, setting a few calendar dates and alarms for various things, and checking my emails and notifications for any updates on any of my on-going projects, I set off out of the Pokémon Center.

 

While Vulpix recovers, I’m relegated to hovering around Camphrier Town. I don’t even know why I’m so attached to this Vulpix already. I guess I just have a personal preference for foxes.

 

This place is, to be honest, quiet. It’d be a nice place to grow old and retire. The idyllic lifestyle of bordering a flower-lined river and the forestry, the young children playing with their parents’ pokémon. Like that young boy hugging a Flareon… Or that girl playing with a Magikarp.

 

Retirement. Huh. Never really thought about that. I’d like to grow old with someone…but who? Probably a girl…feelings that I’ve bottled up deep inside are just bubbling and boiling. Wishing to see the light of day.

 

I sigh, audibly, garnering the attention of some people for just a moment. I can’t deny it. I like girls. In fact, I like a lot of girls. Relationships are not much of a topic to be discussed when we have skilled scientists working on cloning. However, having a relationship with just a single person is strangely difficult for me to imagine…

 

Would it be too much to ask for eternal love and happiness from those I care about and have it reciprocated? I don’t know. No feeling in my heart or false memory gives me a hint about the future.

 

There must be some deity out there…listening…

 

…

 

Alright. I’m hungry. Let’s go get something to eat.

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