FicWad

The kind neighbors had kept Kabir and me at their house for two days after my fever had finally lifted, which had taken three days from our arrival before agreeing to let my husband and I return to our home. I have spent a few more recovering, even after that. We have now been in Alola for over a week.

The large empty house had felt busy, though, as the two Professors stopped by every morning and also evening after they'd finished their day's work. Doctor Ōpūnui popped in once a day, checking in on my progress. The nurses he had mentioned had come around for a few hours each day as well, but they had slowly been weaning their visits until now, yesterday, when they announced they no longer needed to come. Officer Jenny came by the first couple of mornings after we returned home but had taken to just calling to make sure nothing else happened. A man named Hala and his Hariyama came over to check on us when we first moved back. Even young Sam, the mail carrier, stayed every morning during their route for a bit longer than I think would be normal, chatting idly.

When I awoke on the second morning, I was unable to answer any of the questions that were asked. I didn't see what Pokémon made me sick. I didn't hear anything out of the ordinary. The police searched the house and surrounding areas, but they found no clues as to what it could have been either.

Most worrisome, though, was there were no punctures or rashes on my skin for the poison to be injected, and nothing had been inhaled in my lungs, nor even ingested. So I was poisoned, but no one could figure out how.

Now, I'm sitting at one of the tables outside our house, resting after a busy morning. I'm facing the west, towards the backyard where the forest of dead trees can be seen standing and lying in a tangled mess around the murky waters of our unseen lake further in. The trees outside our land, just on the other side of the fence even, were healthy, strong, and housed many happy Pokémon. Our own forest looked like a graveyard when compared to the rest of the area.

Of course, I was aware of the terrible shape of our backyard before we purchased it and knew it would take a bit of work to get the large mass of land set up in a livable way once more, but I was unprepared when I looked it over a couple of days ago to see just how bad it truly was. The land stretched out, passed where the eyes could detect, but I knew, even back that far, the forest must be struggling. When I finally felt strong enough, Kabir and I ventured back, and saw the mass of disgusting water, though we refused to draw any closer. The smell coming off the thing was gut churning, causing me to nearly lose my breakfast.

The moving company was supposed to arrive in the late afternoon, bringing with them all our furniture, research machines, and the other items that would fill our home. They were instructed to wait until my husband and I returned, so Kabir and I had spent the better part of the day's earliest hours giving our new home a thorough cleaning.

We had told the mail carrier of our plans for the morning as we pleasantly chatted the day before, and Sam had kindly arrived in the early hours to assist us. We tried to turn them down, but the young person insisted on helping. So, with their added hands, and very tall stature, we finished cleaning swiftly.

They had an amazing eagerness to help with whatever we asked. They would take on the task carefully, then move on to the next one immediately following, almost seeming to not want to stop in helping. Sam was so tall that they nearly reached my husband’s height, despite their young age. They were able to reach areas that I would have needed a ladder for. As well, I was delighted to hear Sam join in on my singing as we worked as well, filling the open spaces with my high notes and their falsettos and middle range. Kabir didn't join in with us, though he has never been a fan of singing himself. The look of happiness on his face as he listened to us was more than enough encouragement to keep Sam and me going, though.

The floors were scrubbed, windows washed, and the attic and spare rooms emptied of spider webs and dust. I made a list of repairs that would need to be made as we worked as well. We left all the windows and doors opened, allowing the fresh Alolan air to wash out the rest of the musty odors that lingered within our home once I was satisfied with the progress. When we were done, we offered to make breakfast for our kind mail carrier, but they said they had to get started on the route and left.

Now I rest and hum a few lines of a song Sam and I made up as I pull my fingers in front of my face, wiggling them, then giving my hand a few experimental squeezes. I'm still not back to feeling fully like myself again, but I don't handle sitting around and doing nothing very well. I tend to get twitchy and obnoxious. I found myself wondering if our kind neighbors let us leave, not because of my improved health, but rather due to them becoming annoyed with me.

Of course, they were annoyed with you, the deep, hissing voice returns. You've annoyed nearly everyone you've ever met. Why do you think it's so hard for you to make friends? It questions in a cruel laugh.

At first, I had chalked up the mysterious, niggling entity as just a fever dream. Yet, it had returned several times over now, pushing dark thoughts into my head and reminding me of sad, painful memories, twisting some of them into unrecognizable horrors, as if trying to force me to remember them in those terrible ways. It also dredged up my worst traumas, seeming to try and put me in a constant state of fear or depression.

I've thought of discussing this disconcerting cognitive change with my husband or maybe even calling my sister about it, but telling someone about strange voices in your head isn't usually an easy conversation. Not to mention, my family might just consider that I've begun to lose my senses after my sudden sickness.

"You know, Sash," Kabir says, walking over to me with a tray of cold drinks, "We should make dinner for the movers after we've finished up."

"That's a good idea. They've had a rough time getting here, what with that storm a few days ago, and it probably wasn't easy for them to have to wait for me to recover." I respond, pulling my mind out of the darker thoughts and pushing the hissing voice out of my head.

The workers had sounded unconcerned and even a bit excited about having a few days off as they waited. They had promised to use that time to rest after the squall that nearly sank their ship the day before arriving in port. It was the second storm to hit Alola since our arrival. I still couldn't help but worry, though, knowing the movers must have other orders to work on.

My husband placed a glass in front of me, one of Tinsel's ribbons guiding his hand, making the movement seem sighted and natural. "Thank you. How's your head, Kabir?" I questioned.
"We'll need to run into town, though, or we won't have enough food. What time will they be getting here?" He asks, ignoring my last question. That response tells me it hurts more than normal today.

I pause for a moment, deciding if I should pursue it, but then choose not to. I check the clock on my phone. "They should be here in about six hours, so long as the unloading is smooth at the port."

"Right. We should head out soon, then." He decides, rising to his feet once more and making to grab the glasses off the table to return them to the fridge before either of us have even had a chance to take a sip.

When Kabir makes his mind up about something, he follows through with it swiftly, though not always well thought out at times. We are opposites, but therefore a good team in that aspect. While my spouse is good at ensuring things get done without hesitation, he does so without much preparation or forethought. Whereas I would rather spend far too long planning, and then things simply don't get done in time.

Working together, we most often achieve our set out goals in a carefully decided and well-timed manner, but there is, of course, the occasional dispute. Though, that is to be expected when you've known someone for literally your entire life, such as my husband and me.

I catch his hand as it slides towards my glass, playfully pulling it just out of reach, allowing only his fingertips to barely make contact with the dripping edges so he knows just how close he came to grabbing it. "We don't have a way of transporting a large amount of food. We only have our light saddle packs and our bags."

He ponders for a moment, chuckling at my tease but not trying to snatch the drink away again. "You've got a fair point there. Maybe we can pick some bigger packs up in town." He makes to move off once more. I tug on his hand, still held by my own, and pull him down next to me to sit and think.

"I’m sorry, but no," I say with certainty. "That would absolutely slow us down a fair amount, and the packs would really only be useful this one time since our own propers would be coming in with the delivery tonight. So this doesn't make much sense, time-wise or monetarily."

I see Kabir's face drop slightly as he realizes his quick solution really wasn't a clever one. He opens his mouth, pulls in a deep breath, and lets it out through his nose, long and slow. He does this when he realizes his emotions are starting to get too high or when he becomes overwhelmed and wants to regain control over himself. He's wise that way, with his words and emotions, and I've always admired his careful control.

"Our truck is still in Johto too.” He mumbles to himself with slight frustration. “We could call for a cab." He says hesitantly, though I know he isn't a fan of this idea. He would much rather ride his Pokémon, whose movements he's able to predict more easily than a cab controlled by a stranger. At least when I drive, I know how to do so in a way that helps prevent some of the motion sickness he tends to get when in a vehicle.

"Did I hear you say you need some help?" Kukui's voice sounds behind us.

Kabir and I turn around to face him and his wife in surprise to see our two neighbors walking into our garden. They didn't have their child with them today. Quietly, I inform Kabir of the two who’ve come by.

"We didn't mean to eavesdrop, but we were already heading up here to check on Sashi, and, well, sounds carry pretty far on this hill," Kukui says, placing a hand behind his head.

"That's no trouble," Kabir responds kindly, standing politely at the sound of their arrival. "It is very thoughtful of you to come up here to check on us so often."

"You also mentioned the movers were coming today. Since we both have the day off, we wanted to help." Burnet puts in.

"My goodness, that's awfully kind of you!" Kabir says.

"We called a few friends to come over tonight as well," Kukui adds, giving the back of his head another scratch. "It'll be a true moving party."

"Oh, you really didn't have to do that!" I say, standing and bowing with my husband. He takes his warm hand into mine and gives it a sneaky, comforting squeeze at the drop of this new information, knowing full well how terrified crowds could make me.

Despite the kindness these two are providing us by having friends come over to help, I feel a Wurmple of unease shift in my stomach at the mere idea of having so many strangers here tonight, especially after the trip we’ll be making. I know I’ll be socially exhausted after spending the day in town surrounded by all those people, and I worry slightly about my own still fragile health as well. Will I have enough mental and physical strength to instruct people on where to place everything? I’m sure glad I printed out a few copies of my layout blueprint for the furniture, but what about all our boxes?

"Many hands make light work, as they say," Burnet chimes in laughing, waving off our polite gesture. Though her words sound happy, she locks her yellow eyes onto mine with a look of concern, as if somehow able to sense the discomfort I was feeling.

"We can come with you to town, and if we need more help, I have two Incineroar and a Melmetal that would love to help as well," Kukui remarks.

"Two?" I say in confusion, recalling only seeing one during our stay.

"Yes, one is Kukui's, and the other, the one you remember, is from a young boy who used to live with us," Burnet answers, a happy twinkle of remembrance in her eyes.

"He stayed with us while he was doing the island challenge. He left around two years ago after being the first Trainer to beat the new League, and he left his Pokemon here so he could start anew for his next challenge." Kukui adds.

"Oh, I've heard of him, I think." I pause and try to recall old memories. "Ash Ketchum, was it? He won with a stunning comeback with that very same Incineroar that you mentioned, didn't he?" I ask, remembering when I watched it on the television.

"Yes, he did," the male professor replies happily.

"You must really miss him," Kabir says with an understanding look, catching onto their saddened voices faster than I do with the looks in their eyes.

"We do. He was like our own child." Burnet answers. A now heartbreaking gleam passes between the two of them.

Wanting to cheer them up, I changed the subject back. "These are the two Pokémon we were going to use," I say. "Sugar, meet the neighbors," Sugar, my Fire type Rapidash comes out of her ball and gives a friendly neigh, pleased to see the new faces of these two Professors.

Surprisingly, when the ball comes whizzing back to my side, I misjudge the distance and find myself missing the catch. Instead, it flies over my shoulder and lands in the grass with a small thump right behind me. Embarrassed, I glance quickly at my neighbors, but their attention has already turned to the delightful horse Pokémon.

Kabir does notice, however, and I see his head turned slightly towards the direction the small device fell. He passes, just for a second, a quick expression of concern, but then returns to his normal placid stance.

"Go ahead and give her a pat. She's rather friendly and keeps her fires cool, even for strangers." I say to the two professors as they stand around the happy horse, staring.

I reach down and grab the small red and white ball back into my hand, but my return to a straight standing position causes me to become dizzy, and I move my foot out to catch myself. This time, Tinsel guides Kabir's hand out, and he snatches my arm, helping to steady me. Still, he says nothing, just holds my arm for a moment to be sure I don't fall.

He will say something at some point, though. I think with a sigh. When we aren't around the others. He's like a Kangaskhan mother, always watchful and concerned. Truthfully, I can understand why he's so worried. If I were in his shoes, I would be as well, but he tends to be somewhat overbearing, even at times when I'm just slightly under the weather. We blame it on his anxiety disorder, but his difficult life also has a lot to do with it as well.

"Oh, she's lovely, and her fire is so bright! What a healthy-looking Rapidash you have here." Burnet says, pulling my mind away from future encounters, not hesitating to pat her fur. Kukui echoes his wife's pleasure and praise, rubbing a hand along her horn as she bows her head to accept the kind words and pats.

"Thank you. We've been together since I began my second Trainer Journey," I responded, walking over and rubbing Sugar's long nose. While Kabir started his journey later than me, I had originally started mine at ten years old, returning when he was ready for his own, so we could go out together.

"We can't leave Rebel out!" Kabir says behind me, pulling out his own Pokéball. "Though he's not the friendly sort and tends to be rather prideful, so take a treat first and be careful not to insult him!" He hands a few treats from his pocket to the neighbors and throws his Pokéball. Tinsel reaches a ribbon up, smoothly catches the returning ball, and then passes it back to my husband's hand. The Trainers at the PokéAssist facility taught her that little trick. It has been very beneficial for our travels. Another Rapidash is released into the yard, but this one has a silvery-white body with fluffy, cyan and pink, fair floss-like frocks, tail, and mane.

"Ahh! No way! Is that a Galarian Pokémon?" Kukui says in surprise and delight, nearly pouncing on the horse but, wisely, holding his ground.

"Yes, he is! He's a Galarian Rapidash! You must have done your research!" my husband responds with an impressed look.

Our neighbors both walk over to the new Pokémon and hold out their hands with the treats. Rebel whinnies angrily and scrapes his hoof on the ground in annoyance, making his desire for space very evident. Kukui and Burnet knowingly back up and give the irritated horse the space it requests. Noticing the frustration, Kabir carefully steps over to his Pokémon and gives his nose a pat.

"These people are our new neighbors," He says. "They are very nice, so I need you to treat them kindly."

Rebel gives his head a shake, pushing his Trainer's hand away in anger, then turns his back to the two Professors holding treats, whipping his long fluffy tail, and barely missing a smart snap on Kukui's bare chest.

"That's rude. I don't appreciate your attitude." My husband chides. He walks over to the front of his horse once more and faces him directly.

Rebel quivers his mane and throws his ears back, giving an angry snort of protest.

"That's not polite either." Kabir says flatly, "I have a feeling you'll be seeing a lot of these two from now on, so it would be wise of you to make fast friends with them now."
Rebel rolls his eyes but lowers his head in submission to his Trainer.

"Can I trust you to be kind to my new friends?" He questions, putting his hand on the snout of his steed once more and rubbing it gently.

The Pokémon bobs his head and snorts, pawing the ground some more, but then he turns back around towards the watching couple. The two waiting professors draw closer to the beautiful creature, hands extended and pellets exposed. Rebel pads the ground a bit more. Kabir sighs quietly, arms folded and head shaking.

The horse flicks his ears irritably towards the noise. Finally, he gives his mane a shake and saunters over to the newcomers, rubbing his lips against their hands and pulling the treats from their waiting palms a bit more forcefully than was necessary, but he stands still while they doll out affection.

"What a soft mane and beautiful shiny fur," Burnet says in awe, running her fingers through the flowing mane in front of her. "You are truly a very lovely Pokémon," She says, patting his neck. Rebel's ears flick forward with suppressed pleasure at the praise.

"You two seem to have quite an understanding of each other," Kukui says, impressed. "Kabir, I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now, but haven’t found a good time to do so. Are you psychic?"

My husband shuffles his feet, awkwardly rubbing his arm while Kukui looks at Burnet with an eyebrow raised in curiosity. He finally confesses; “Yes, I am, um, some what. I’m really quite weak though, and I would rather prefer you don't inform others, if you can avoid it." He says quietly.

"No need to worry there. That's not information we would give out anyway, unless you specifically tell us to." Kukui says with a slight chuckle, his face crinkled in understanding, then the man moves the conversation along to ease some of the awkward tension his observation has caused. "Have you two known each other long?"

"We have. Just like Sashi and Sugar, Rebel and I have been together since day one of my journeys' start when I turned twelve. In fact, the two Pokémon were given to us by our parents when they were Ponyta as gifts." Kabir answers, his confidence already returning, "Our parents told us that they were to help us since the Pokémon could be ridden, but I knew my dad wanted me to have a Psychic Type on my journey because of my blindness. He worried about me a lot."

"So this is a Psychic-Type Rapidash, then? That would certainly explain your strong connection." Kukui says with interest, eyeing the silvery creature once more.

"Psychic and Fairy."

"How fascinating. Your dad knew what he was doing when he picked this guy out. I can tell you two have a very close bond." He says in genuine surprise. "I bet your father is very proud of you." The young man finishes.

"Oh, um, yes, I would like to think so,” Kabir stammers at the unexpected praise.

"Anyways!" I jumped in quickly, guessing that another change of subject was in order by the look on my husband's face. "If we want to get the shopping done before the movers arrive, we will need to leave soon. Let's get the packs loaded on the Pokémon."

"We'll head back home and grab our own packs as well," Burnet says.

"Sounds good. We'll come over when we are set up."

The two kind neighbors walk off. Kabir and I get to work setting the headstalls and reins on our horse Pokémon, then place the packs over their backs. As my husband runs inside, I take a few moments to write down two separate shopping lists for us, one for me and one for Kabir. After just a few minutes, we are ready to go.

"You know, Sash, riding would be a lot quicker. Should we also bring out Thunder and Billy?"

"You're probably right, love. We’ve spent too much time talking, and who knows how long it would take us to pick out the food. This will be our first trip into town, so we'll probably be pretty distracted." I laugh back. "Thunder, come on out," I say, releasing my Luxray. "Would you be alright if I rode you into town?" I ask.

The large cat Pokémon shoves his face against mine and purrs loudly. “Of course you would. You're just so sweet!" I squeal at the affection, hugging him around the neck.

"Billy, join us," Kabir calls. He releases a Pokèball, and the goat Pokémon Gogoat appears before us. "You good to give a ride to a new friend?" He asks. The Pokémon answers without hesitation, and we rein the new creatures swiftly.

"Alright then," Kabir remarks. "Let's not keep them waiting," Rebel lays down and allows his Trainer to easily climb onto his back. He returns Tinsel to her own purple Pokéball as the horse raises to its feet.

I mount my own horse with a smooth, practiced jump. Sugar evolved from a Ponyta to the much taller Rapidash she is now, just as I turned 14, so the motion has become second nature to me, having been used for over fifteen years now. I call out to my Delcatty. "Hop, are you joining us?"

The purple cat has been lying on top of a bench for the entire conversation. She lets out a giant yawn, stretches, then lazily sprawls back onto the bench. "Alright then, you stay here and hold down the fort," I reply with a laugh. Addressing Kabir, I say, "Let's go."