Categories > Games > Pokemon > The Spirit of Alola - Book 2

Chapter 2 - A Partner?

by CJWorthington 0 reviews

Chapter 2 of The Spirit of Alola - Book 2

Category: Pokemon - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Fantasy - Published: 2022-07-07 - 1649 words - Complete

“Anya, are you certain you want to go through with this? You know you’ll have to take care of it, and train it, right?” Burnet asked cautiously.

“Of course I’m sure, why do you think I even came up with this idea? For a jolly laugh?” I snorted back angrily. “It’s not like I have too many options anyway.”

I continue to grumble in annoyance, allowing a few quiet curses to escape my lips, knowing exactly what I was about to get myself into. I’ve been watching my family all my life, going through the arduous process of raising Pokémon. I do not like the creatures, even the best of them on good days, but I more so despised how useless I was just a couple of days ago, when Burnet and I found out that Sashi had been abducted and Burnet’s husband had been impersonated to do the dirty work.

Now, I sat on the couch inside the Professor’s home, narrowing down my list of possible Pokémon once more. There were so many to choose from. Hundreds, maybe even thousands, if we counted them all, and with far too many possible issues that came with the ones you could pick, not including, just physically having a Pokémon with you all the time.

“Finding a partner isn’t like picking a lunch to eat. It’s more like choosing a career. This choice will follow you for years to come and you will hold responsibility for it.” The Professor said seriously, once again trying to ensure my certainty.

“You know what Burnet? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were hoping I don’t pick one.”

“You know that’s not the case,” The girl answered flatly, looking at me with annoyance. She may be a sweet person, but she doesn’t take crap from others, which had surprised me at first.

I check my list one more time and scratch off a few more names. “There, now I’m down to just these two.” I hold the list up to her defiantly.

She plucks the page from my hand and scans over it, her eyes moving around as she views the names I’ve marked off, then returns to the ones left. A sudden laugh takes me by surprise as she chokes out her next words. “Bewear and Machamp? Why am I not surprised!”

Indignation and embarrassment flare through me and I snatch the list back from her, ripping a bit of the edge off in my swift movement. I stand and walk to the window, trying to hide the reddening of my cheeks as I feel heat flood into my face. “They’re Fighting-types. And I need something strong.” I blurt out, forcing fury through clenched teeth.

Who does this woman think she is, acting like she’s known me for years? The irritated thought flashes through my mind. We’ve only just made acquainted a few days ago.

“Oh, calm down Anya. I didn’t mean anything mean by it, and you're smart enough to know that.” Her voice is frustratingly calm as she answers me back. Without turning around I hear her bare feet approach. She leans against the wall next to me, her young son, Lei, in her arms clutching a small black bird toy, which he’d stuffed into his mouth. “Have you figured out how you’re going to get ahold of this Pokémon?”

“You, of course.”


“Yeah. You’re a Pokemon Professor. You should have tons of them.” I spit back, a seed of doubt beginning to gnaw a hole in my plan.

“Take a look at that tank over there,” She nods her head to the water-filled aquarium sitting in her living room. “Those two fish Pokemon in there are all we have, besides our own partners.”

“No. That can’t be true. I saw a row of PokeBalls in your basement.”

“Those belong to other Trainers.” She shakes her head, sympathy creeping into her eyes. “Can’t you talk to your parents? Or what about your siblings. I thought one was a Breeder, and another a Gym Leader. In fact,” She pushes off the wall and faces me fully, “Don’t all your siblings work with Pokèmon in some way?”

How much has Sashi told this girl about our family?

I roll my eyes and choose not to respond. My legs begin to carry me back to the couch when a hand on my shoulder stops me.

“Anya, were you planning on keeping this Pokèmon a secret?”

“So what if I was?”

Her hand drops from my shoulder and I feel her eyes bore into the back of my head. She’s silent for a moment, but when she speaks again, to my utter shock, she’s angry, no, furious. “You can’t do that! It’s completely unethical and cruel. If you get a Pokémon, you’ll be the sole owner of it, and I already know you will have a hard time just remembering to take care of it. If you try to keep it hidden from everyone, it will live in its PokeBall for the rest of its life.”

“What are you talking about. It would be just fine.” I spit back, swinging around to face her.

“Look at Himiko,” Burnet says, yellow eyes burning. I turn my head to see my three-year-old daughter watching us nervously, a small brown and white owl Pokèmon sitting in her lap with its eyes wide and head cocked to the side. “Let’s say we put her in a pen and have her stay there. No interaction with you or anyone else until you feel an inclination to use her for her abilities. Do you honestly believe that would have no ill effect on her?”

I try to tear my eyes away from my child’s own, but their ocean blue depths slice into me, and I begin to imagine a scenario just as the Professor described. “I would never.” I choke out, struggling to find my voice as I feel my stomach twist at the sickening thought.

“Then why would you do it to a Pokemon? Their living, breathing beings too. They have thoughts and feelings, just like your daughter.”

“What kind of awful person do you think I-“ but I drop off my angry retort as horrible realization bursts into my mind and the feeling of a small object in my pocket suddenly begins to weigh me down. Instinctively, I reach my hand in and pull out the green PokeBall that belonged to my late husband.

I have already been doing this. I am that awful person. I think to myself.

My face grows warm once more, but not out of embarrassment this time. I try to blink a sting away that has grown in my eyes, attempting to force back the wetness on the edges, but a tear still escapes and rolls down my cheek as I stare down at the capture device. With the events of late, I find it harder than ever to control my ever shifting emotions.

Without much thought into my actions, I press the button on the capsule, allowing it to expand in my hand. Giving it a small toss, I release the Pidgeot within.

Burnet watches me with first surprise, then painful understanding, the anger she had been letting off fizzing away swiftly.

The giant brown bird crouches down, ready to fly, but then pauses, noticing that it’s in a house and I’m not trying to climb onto its back. I watch its eyes move around the room as it straightens itself to stand. The feathers on its back begin to rise slightly, and it gives its body a nervous shake.

For a moment, I had expected the bird to be overjoyed to be outside of its ball, but instead, it takes a few weary steps towards me, eyes trained on the PokeBall, bringing its beak cautiously near. I pull my hand up and show it to the Pokémon, without saying a word. Another tear falls from my eyes as memories of watching my husband raise it from a Pidgey flood my mind. Again, the large beak draws close to my hand, and with careful gentility, the Pokèmon presses the button on its ball and returns inside.

“What?” My eyes widen in shock. I toss the PokeBall again, but this time, the bird presses the button swiftly. Once more, I release it, but then shove the capsule into my pocket.

The Pidgeot utters a small noise that sounds almost like a moan, its head bowed slightly as it tries to avoid eye contact with me.

“No, you’re staying out here,” I state, trying to make myself sound like, what I believe, is a Trainer.

The Professor steps up next to the bird and begins to stroke its neck, murmuring soft reassurances to it, but it scoots away from her, as if frightened, then takes another step towards me, looking, once more, for the PokeBall.

“Stop it,” I say, as it obstinately refuses to listen, while I push its head away from my leg, but it just keeps at it, quiet, low chirps coming out in fast succession.

“Mommy, please don’t!” Himiko cries, running over to us and grabbing the Pidgeot by a leg.

“What? Why are you crying? Burnet, why won’t it stay outside its ball?” The questions in my head buzz around and I find myself struggling to keep my mind straight.

“It’s afraid you’re going to abandon it.” A new, soft female voice says. Burnet and I whip around to see Doctor Ōpūnui standing in the open doorway, with Melanie Gomez, my sister’s mother-in-law, coming up from behind.
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