"Are you sure that you're okay with leaving?" Erika asked, concerned.

  He pressed a thumb into his chest, grinning like a devil. "Don't go worrying about me. I ain't gonna say that Hoenn's completely safe, but what are the chances of another evil team trying to take them over? And either way, I'm a certified badge-carrying member of the grass gym. That means that I've got the grass gym leader's approval that my training skill's better than dirt, right? Right."

  Coughing drew him out of the conversation. Tiny docks fit for skippers and ferries were built alongside Route 16, the one directly west from Celadon. Unlike most of the roads in the rest of the region, there were plenty of settlements which were interspersed through the dirt path that mostly made up the route. It was somewhat of an artificial settlement in the sense that most of the buildings were built alongside the cycling road. It had been a simple fishing village without note. Multi-storied buildings and docks for ferrying travelers across the bay lorded over the quaint cottages which weren't even facing the road. Most of the new buildings proudly had Celadon somewhere on them, whether that be their name or slogans. The newest dock had hewn into its railing, "In memory of Waka Celadon".

  It made Lane a little more wary about what he'd done since entering the region. There was more going behind the scenes than he ever cared to look. As much as he wanted to say nothing held power over him as long as he didn't take anything seriously, there was a suspiciously large amount of events that went straight over his head. Families which had cities named after them? The rabid defense of typings? Gym leaders not having the exact same teams that he remembered?

  And he brushed it off. He was beginning to think that he was above reproach, a theory that'd be tested with the trip he was going on.

  She still didn't look eased. Lane had noticed sometime during the week that all of her emotions seemed to be centered around her nose. Displeasure? It would scrunch. Excitement actually made that little bridge between the nostrils raise. It was strange enough, as he'd never seen a person's nose be that expressive. Talking about that seemed awkward, so he never brought it up. That didn't stop him from openly staring when it happened.

  "I still don't like it," she said.

  His fingers shuffled around his collar. "That why you came out here to see me off?"

  "I came out to see you off since you're an employee who's going to be gone for two months in another region. I know that you're rather blasé with this sort of situation, but it's extraordinary that something like this is happening." Nostalgia coated her tongue. It tasted sweet, making her smile. "It was actually back when you first came into the city that I was talking with Yoko. I think we both knew that change was coming in some fashion. Too many things were happening at once. Now we're getting more security than ever, there's a new Champion, the regions are getting closer, and there's brand new typings that are shaking the public to their core."

  That was a bit of a surprise. Not that Lane was trying to sound pretentious—even in his own head—but for there to be change outside of what he was doing shocked him, even more that Red wasn't involved either.

  "More security?"

  Erika smiled a bit. "Ah, you wouldn't have heard since it's a mostly internal process. With the disaster that this whole Team Rocket fiasco has been, it's shocked enough people that they're working on implementing real change. More checks, more consistent oversight, more everything. Soon enough there'll be changes that the average citizen will witness."

  "So, like what, background checks?"

  "All sorts of things! A little more police oversight inside the cities, more things requiring IDs. I've even heard that they're going to start monitoring problematic individuals too," she said.

  The happiness was usually reserved for a little cousin getting an award for a music contest rather than casually talking about surveillance.

  "Sounds sketchy," he admitted. With a shrug, he continued, "but it ain't my region. And it was a little egregious that so many Team Rocket members were in—you know what? I shouldn't talk politics. Politics are stupid."

  "Politics are necessary. Through doing politics, we're making people's lives better," Erika stressed.

  "Agree to disagree. Like oil and water, I'm more about living in the moment. Like good times and weak men, I'm just trying to get by. And like cilantro and onions, I spoil fast. No time to get involved with all that politics stuff when I've got things to do."

  "Not entirely sure what any of that means, but your boat is here," she said.

  A red and white ferry bounced on the waves as it came to a halt next to the dock. Being closer gave them a better view of its condition. The hull had become of barnacles after having survived without cleaning for around a decade. Green lines of something living ran down from the many crevices, making it look akin to the veins of a living vessel. That was to say nothing about the windows that were fogged over, or the red eyes that were blinking from some of the portholes.

  Few left. Even fewer got on. Besides Lane, there were only four other men who were boarding. A Slowking with an anchor necklace took their tickets without complaint as the sailors got out to stretch their legs. A clipper maneuvering around with skill unable to be mimicked by hands quickly snapped off half the paper's worth of holes through the tickets before handing the mangled papers back.

  "...this was the only ferry to Hoenn?" he asked.

  "That we could get in any reasonable amount of time," Erika said.

  That was a lie. Another boat was taking travelers. It was a cruise however, meaning that they were paying more over a longer period of time. Both Erika and Yoko agreed to get the cheaper boat while Lane was none the wiser.

  He let an easy smile take over. "Well, at least it'll be an interesting experience. This is goodbye for now. I'll send back the pokémon that I can get and be back within two months. Remember to train Morelull! Eat your veggies and the like."

  With a roll of her eyes, Erika pushed his shoulder lightly. "You're much too irreverent to me considering that I'm your boss. Do a good job here and you might still have your job when you come back."

  "Righty-o, boss lady!"

  "Oh, and make sure that you get Tangela a good home! I won't settle for anybody but one of the best trainers that you can find taking him along," Erika interrupted.

  He swiveled on his foot and gave a salute. "Okie dokie, boss lady!"

  He was about to move again when she said, "and are you sure that you have enough money? Yoko said no, but I brought a bit with me. It isn't much, but it'll make you—"

  He held out his hands without touching her. Normally he was the personal space disruptor; without experimentation however, he didn't know if the radiance would burn him to a crisp like standing next to a nuclear reactor. "Alright, Erika! I'm sure everything'll be alrighty. If you want to give me the money I wouldn't refuse, but you're micromanaging! Or spiraling! Whatever! You're doing something! I'm leaving! Go spend that worry on your gym if you've got that much energy."

  "Oh, fine." She puckered her lips, opened her mouth, then closed it again, then spoke. "Then stay safe. I'd be beside myself if one of my employees was hurt doing something for me."

  "No promises!"

  With the last word, Lane went and boarded the boat. The inside was just as filthy as the outside and Lane was perfectly fine with leaving that as its only description. He sat at one of the many stools built into the floor that were pressed against a counter overlooking the edge of the ship, waiting for it to start moving. Erika was still watching from the dock. With one last wave exchanged, she finally left.

  That was going to turn into a nap at the same exact place she always did. He learned her schedule. Always a midday nap would be partaken no matter what. Seemed pointless to him. Sleeping left you out from experiencing things more. If he were able to control his sleep, then he'd make it so he never had to.

  "Friendly with a gym leader? I've heard that this Kanto folk are allergic to anybody from out region."

  He turned to see a man who looked like he belonged as a member of the Dutchman's crew himself. Crooked grin and yellow teeth were the greatest of the man's problems among a whole outfit trying to reinforce the sketchy backdealer ensemble. It was the trenchcoat and tech pants that really sold the back alley feeling, rough skin rubbing against the clothes in a way that made anyone watching feel dirty.

  Another reason that he was suspicious, Lane groused in his head. Leave the region of backwards weirdos and you immediately run into the arms of a new type of weirdo.

  "Sorry, but I wasn't fished from the bottom of the sea like you were. I come from a civilized foreign country, the middle of the wilderness." Lane pumped his arm in the air. "Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum. What 'x marks the spot' did you come from?"

  "You're trying to be funny and it's not working. Unova, if you need to know. This is one of the only boats that goes between all the regions that we know of, and so I hopped on the chance. Not everyday you see the world at a good rate," the man said.

  "Really?"

  "Yep." The man pointed up at the Wingull. "Let me tell you: not much different all these places are, even the birds. They try to tell you that there's 'regional bird'. Pidgey are still festering in Sinnoh's cities and Tranquil're up north in Kanto. Bunch of scam talk."

  "If you say so."

  "I do." The man checked behind them before whispering, "you a trainer? I've actually picked up pokémon as I've been traveling. You seem open to the idea of a boost, unlike all of the Kanto people that I've met. Y'see, traveling's hard, as I'm sure you know. You've got to be open with any money that you can get. If there's pokémon that look like they wanna see the world, take 'em, and find 'em a good trainer that's willing to shell out money—like the one that I'm looking at right now."

  Lane raised an eyebrow. "Do you only not like Kanto 'cause they didn't want to buy from you?"

  "Yes."

  It was supposed to be a point of criticism, but Lane retracted his statements before he could speak. Being a hypocrite wasn't cool. He'd been thinking that Kanto people were dumb since trying to convince them a new typing existed. It was likely (though he doubted it) that Kanto weren't the most exceptionally dumb people in the whole world, rather just the first that he'd met.

  He really doubted it though.

  "What do you have? And what do you want for it?" Lane asked.

  Something clicked in Lane's head when the man spread his trenchcoat wide; he put a pin on it and focused on the present. Pokéballs were held inside little straps that were specifically made for them, easy to deduce that the man made some kind of living from selling pokémon. There was a puzzle on how the man could actually make a living with a job requiring charisma. Besides the look of some back-alley merchant, Lane could smell him over the must of the boat and salt of the sea.

  "I've got an Alolan Rattata, Tynamo, Vanillite, and Trubbish." The man gave a crooked grin that clearly showed the cavities in his teeth. "If you even know what those're. Just some money or an equal trade. Either or."

  "An equal trade would be a Rattata for most of those, man. None of those are exactly powerhouses, gems in the rough even," Lane said.

  "If that's what you believe. Now, are you interested?"

  Lane held up a finger and walked off slightly away for some privacy. The back deck of the ferry only had a single man who looked wholly out of place in his suit, hunched over with his eyes closed. A flash of color briefly overtook the deck as Dunsparce took shape. Lane kneeled down and patted the pokémon's back.

  "Dunsparce," he greeted. The pokémon mewled as Lane scratched the back of his head. "I've just found a guy who's been funding his trips around the world by selling pokémon. He's also willing to trade too."

  He stopped there, continuing to scratch. A sigh at the confused look. His head lolled backwards before snapping straight. He needed to be serious. If being serious meant pretending, then he'd pretend as hard as he normally did.

  "To be honest, I don't like considering this. I thought that since you'd come with me back there, you were going to be one of the main characters, you know? But you're you. You don't like getting in silly situations where your life is at stake. I love it. It's just…" He tried grappling with the words, unable to finish the sentence. "I'm going to continue getting myself into trouble. I live for it. You're not a battling pokémon and you've never made yourself out to be one. I'm sure that this guy will get you a home that's more your speed than, uh, my speed."

  The whimpers that were coming from underneath his hand made him feel bad. The yellow skin that ran between his fingers felt smooth, little bristles of hair catching in his fingernails. Made to keep as much dirt from sticking as possible.

  "Now I'm not doing this 'cause I want to abandon you or something stupid like that. It's just that you obviously don't like facing against criminals or being forced to dive into rivers, and I'm half-expecting to be forced into doing both of those again. This is your out. Otherwise, we'll stick together. I'd appreciate the help!" Lane gently put his hand underneath Dunsparce's jaw, guiding around the horns that were there, and lifted it so they were making eye contact. "So do you want to go with him? I can't promise that he's going to be the greatest ride ever, but it sounds like he's going to travel far and wide. I'm sure that you'll find—" Lane stopped. "Sorry, just realized this sounds like I'm trying to convince you. I'll let you decide."

  Its bulbous head burrowed itself deeper into the nails that it was getting scratched with. Lane was the type to be overly affectionate, but that trait had fallen by the wayside since they started traveling. The person who had gotten them into life-threatening situations wasn't the same who was settled down. The choice wasn't that hard to make outside of sentimentality. Was Lane a good enough person to stick with even if they were going to be constantly sticking their noses where they didn't belong? Did Dunsparce really feel like going back home where he'd see the same tract of land for the rest of his life?

  Dunsparce nodded. With one last hug, Lane recalled his pokémon.

  That was the last that trainer and pokémon had ever seen each other. With his status of a vagrant, it would've been easy to trade abused pokémon then disappear into the sunset of another region yet, despite appearances, the seedy merchant had a big heart for all kinds of pokémon. He taught the pokémon under him. He fed them. Let them stretch their legs. And he did that for as long as the pokémon needed to finally get chosen.

  They traveled between all the regions—Hoenn, Sinnoh, Unova, Kalos, Alola—before heading back to Kanto since the merchant wanted to see how the region had improved since he last was there. Since arriving, it had become trendy for the younger generation to have at least one foreign pokémon in their repertoire—a consequence of Kanto becoming more ingrained with the international world while still not having the interest to become a world-class destination. He traded Dunsparce for a shiny Rattata, which the merchant ended up keeping for the rest of his life.

  The person who traded for Dunsparce was one Chase, a trainer who was taking his time exploring all of Kanto. That meant the backroads. That meant the cities. His journey had already taken months when he'd received his third badge, when Dunsparce was added to his team. The pace that they kept was much more reasonable for him. Once realizing that the feeble pokémon wasn't cool with battling, he'd been left behind for the serious battles. But that was okay. Dunsparce wanted it to be like that. He got scratches, care, and bonded with the other pokémon on his team, so much so that Lane had become a distant memory. But he never forgot the experiences that they shared together. Sometimes he wished that he could ask his trainer to find where Lane had gone to show how much he'd grown.

  He was also the first Dunsparce in the known world to evolve. That had sent the Johto press into a frenzy. Lane had read in the paper clear across the region about a pokémon known for years evolving for the first time, and chose to believe it was his own to make it a feel-good story.

  Lane leaned on the counter and took a deep whiff. Nope. No matter how long he stayed next to the man, that smell was impossible to get used to.

  "So how'd you know that I was a foreigner?" Lane asked.

  Just as he asked that, the boat finally lurched forwards. Even the movement felt sluggish like a car with defective spark plugs. Chug, chug, like each wave would break the hull. Their conversation kept them awake late into the night.

  A large clearing, partially manmade and partially natural, connected with many similar clearings in a chain generally heading in one direction, going on for so long that it had at some point been deemed as a route. The warm climate that seemed never to tire over the long, hot and humid days made all living things complacent about their lives, working beneath the mops of hair fashionable in the region. Not as if living near the equator was exactly heaven, mind. Many in the region could point to the world-shattering hurricanes that had permanently changed maps over the decades. Broad segments of the population theorized that a hurricane that would create a crisis happened once a generation. Meteorologists begged people to stay in their lane and leave predictions about the weather to themselves—even with many in their own profession silently holding their own superstitions.

  Evergreen were the primary trees that lived in the region. Oceans of green competed with the vast blue surface that stretched just beyond the heavy brush of civilization. Incomprehensible to outsiders, it was not a place of thick forests with inhospitable pokémon laying in wait. The island only had so much space, and there wasn't anymore virgin land unsoiled by human boots. Professions of all persuasions loitered around without much care of human or pokémon territory; for them, there was hardly any difference, and it wasn't so rare that wild pokémon would nap next to picnickers.

  Most of the nearby cities hadn't much to boast in entertainment, leaving people with the option of taking walks when they got tired of the same three restaurants. Many space-cutting measures were ingeniously thought up in response to there always being space constraints, the pokémon a constant threat to civilization as they'd rampage if too much wild land was stolen. No roads between cities, therefore no cars, which gave the pokémon just that much extra acreage to graze. At some point a genius had suggested building vertically, then another building with the intention of making it seem as if the buildings were part of the environment themselves, and older than all suggestions was the idea to sacrifice some conveniences enjoyed in other regions. Thus movies trickle slowly; movies, plays, fashion, and all the beauty that made life worth living took time to pierce into the slow veins of Hoenn. It made the tastes just as lethargic.

  Everything was lethargic underneath the Hoenn sun. The heat would work underneath your hair and burn your ideas.

  Kids played in the grass as he walked by. Wild grasses and pokémon droppings laid at the feet of a neglected disc golf cage. All the way there was a respect for the wild pokémon that would scurry across the dirt path that cut straight through the forest, all the way, leaving no litter or trampled plants. He'd already seen plenty of people he'd met passing by. They gave greetings and congratulations on starting his journey, stalling just a little to give him their favorite stories from back in the day.

  Tall grass next to the path were typical places for smaller pokémon to hide from predators. It was an easy place to catch another pokémon if you searched for them. He readjusted the strap against his chest. Hesitating walking into battles was a normal thing, he reassured himself. Pokémon were practically made to fight against each other. He was on a journey. That meant fighting in gyms. He didn't want to do that either. He didn't want to interrupt the people who were grooming their pokémon. He traveled without having stopped for a single battle.

  Southern Hoenn's cities were clustered together close enough that a dedicated person could walk through routes to make a day trip. Dedicated he was not, smelling the roses by letting people talk to him and appreciating the feeling of freedom as reading lights flicked on behind the windows ahead. Atmosphere thinned. Eyes poked beneath the knots of grass. Flowers faded as the tree's gnarls dug into the dark with malicious intent. The large cleavage above the road let a breadcrumb of stars guide him to Oldale without being accosted.

  The punny name wasn't an exaggeration; most of the city's buildings were sequestered deep into the forest alongside paths only they knew, lumber mills and wooden weaving factories—repurposed houses, or literally in a person's living room—making baskets that were sold in the bigger cities, near unchanged for the centuries that it'd been established. Lit windows gladly beckoned travelers in, especially a kid who'd introduced himself the previous week. His fingers worked down the crease on the bag's strap. They'd ask things like what his starter was, how far he was planning to go and questions that he didn't have a good answer to. How could he answer when even he didn't know?

  He recognized that it was hard calling the place a proper town. The differences between his homes stood out in the way that a favorite ice cream bar never would have an equal to its fantastic nutty goodness; he noticed with barely much attention put between the better and the lesser, yet still noticing, such as the way that besides the haphazard organization were great leaps between each of the buildings. Where he stood was a concentration of homes and they still had nearly an acreage of space between them. Like the rest of the region he'd seen, it was hard to differentiate where the forest began and city ended.

  Black emerged from black. A figure shambled forth in a cloak that dragged on the grass. He squinted, trying to make out the edges from the forest behind them. It was only when the person had crossed in front of a house that he realized he'd been imagining things. Not a cloak, but a leather trench coat ballooned up the figure's form. Walking beyond the town limits had revealed the ridges of his clothes that shrouded a much smaller figure. A fedora blocked the person's face. He wasn't scared despite the shady disposition—it was Oldale. A city that was tiny constantly dealt with wild pokémon, meaning they taught their children how to battle. It was the balancing effect; large cities certainly attracted more talent while necessity bred skill in the smaller ones. A single scream would have everyone within hearing distance dogpile a would-be thief.

  The figure didn't raise the hat. He wondered if they even could see where they were going until they turned to face him.

  "Oy, gov'na," the figure said. It sounded like they were trying to rasp out breath from the bottom of their lungs, their vowels breathed towards the back of their throat. "Would you care to see my wares?"

  Somebody had pulled aside their curtain to watch the interaction behind the figure's back.

  "Who are you?" he asked.

  "You don't ask the identity of a travelin' merchant, gov'na. If you must know, call me Kane. Now onto business! I've got rare things from other regions if you care," Kane said.

  Childish curiosity took over. "What do you have?"

  The figure flared out their hand. The inside of their coat had straps and hoops to hold various items inside; he recognized that the little red stitches clearly distinct from the leather made these rather poorly done additions to the poor outfit's initial purpose. Revealing their squishy underbelly, the light material of the nice shirt wouldn't protect against the crisp nights.

  He muttered "out of region" as he looked through the wares. Pokéballs, pokédexes, berries, a vial, and brochures compacted together efficiently enough that nearly no free space was left. Two hoops conspicuously hung limply. Either Kane ran out of things to stuff in there or things were actually being sold.

  He pointed to the pokéballs. "What're those?"

  "Exotic pokémon! Some you can't even find in this region! We've got a Tangela straight from Kanto, bred from the best grass-type trainer there. In another we've got a Fomantis hailing from the Alola region. Give this one the proper care and it'll be the brightest pokémon you've seen. We've got a special Rattata that you can't get anywhere in the known world. Finally, we've got a Tynamo, a li'l electric-type. But may I direct your attention to these devices?"

  "Isn't that a pokédex? I've already got one."

  He pulled out his own to show it off. It was a chunk of plastic that he couldn't see the use of. Meeting enough pokémon that he needed a whole list on command felt impossible.

  Kane's eyes spun between the pokédexes.

  "They're already over here?"

  "I was told that this was brand new technology. The professor said that he was personally giving them out. Um, that's all I know," he said.

  More calculations ran behind Kane's pupils. His hand did a flourish as he flared out his coat.

  "My mistake then! It's good that you've gotten yourself a pokédex! They're a valuable resource that will eventually become used by everybody if I've got anything to say about it. I've got a contract." Kane winked. The boyish face underneath the fedora completely stood at odds against the clothing.

  He didn't know how to respond, so he changed the subject. "What are those papers?"

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  "Little brochures that are full of information about Kanto. You'll have cool landmarks that are further from the beaten path, certain pokémon paths, and a lot of fun facts, such as the famous Silence Bridge being 80 whole kilometers! They're really cheap 'cause they're easy to make. Take one! Check their quality for yourself!"

  The paper crinkled. Neither lamination or a thicker paper was afforded for the handwritten guides, surprisingly accurate sketches against a plain white background. Its two creases unfolded into a wide panorama. Just as Kane said, there were detailed descriptions of landmarks that the author insisted were bucket list options. If even half of them were true then he was interested. Former villain bases in various states of destruction sounded awesome if there were no villains inside.

  A hand stuck itself in front of the page. "Hey, words ain't free! I had to make all these myself!"

  "How much?" he asked.

  "Fifteen pokédollars." Kane shrugged at the look. "C'mon, gov'na. Ain't trying to run a scam operation here. It only takes me around ten minutes and a slight creep towards carpal tunnel to make 'em."

  He paid and slid it into his backpack. With a flick of Kane's thumb, the fedora was over his face again. He wondered if Kane could see past it.

  "Thanks for the sale, gov'na. I might see you on the road."

  Kane walked into the pokémon center with a mysterious gait. Slow down, speed up, slow down, repeat the process until the masses get confused. He entered the sliding door and looked around for any modern conveniences. No staircase led to a new area. Only a young Nurse Joy had her feet kicked up behind the counter with her Chansey sleeping on top of a table. The building didn't even have a back room which led to a mysterious dilemma of where exactly all the medicine was stored (safes hidden behind the counter).

  A magazine blocked a clear view of her face. She had the decency to lower it when he walked up.

  "Does Hoenn not have rooms provided by the pokémon centers?" Kane asked.

  "Why would they? We're here for healing, not to be a budget hotel. If you need somewhere to sleep then I'd try for somebody to take you in. But hey, I'm not all that comfortable asking random people to give me stuff either. Literal worst part of my journey, seriously. You can sleep in here tonight if you're not a snorer. Hate snoring."

  The trenchcoat was delicately draped against the top of the only table. Thinking better of it, he laid it on the floor like a carpet. Then he decided that getting it dirtier was stupid and laid it back on the table. Finally two chairs were shoved together so only people's butt stink would get on the cheap leather. The great outdoors were the greatest equalizer for smells. Nearly nothing in the world could beat matted body oil mixed with grass stains, except for the butt stench of thousands of butts. Using the jacket for protection against the gross seats also prevented anybody from stealing the vial inside. The thing was worth his entire existence along with the next generation of relatives and a few of the stars in the sky—probably—which gave him rightful reason to be paranoid against thieves.

  He ignored the stress from having an actual mission and the question of where he'd shower. It was what he was best at: ignoring the implications of everything and just doing what he thought would be fun. Dollar signs leapt over fences as he relaxed. One sale, two sales, three sales, melding into a continuous line of profit until the sun rose.

  Route 102 was much wider and had more lineated borders between path and not, though in Hoenn that distinction hardly mattered when people casually fed Hoppips from the hand. Straight paths to larger cities tended to be larger to allow all kinds of traffic alongside the normal walkers which made the route even more crowded.

  Certain qualities seemed to be missing out of the rugged adventure that his parents were constantly lecturing him about, perhaps missed out when they left Johto behind. Having a person always in sight made it feel as if he were walking around a nature-themed amusement park rather than roughing it in the wild. His feet weren't even getting sore since he'd always been an active child. The only difference was a new little guy who was dutifully trailing at his heels, prancing from being free from his pokéball. Treecko curiously sniffed at everything new that they passed, which was nearly everything since he spent most his life inside a lab's controlled environment. Every now and then the pokémon would give his trainer a nod to show that he was still paying attention before continuing to be excited by nothing in particular.

  It was well down the path that he saw the same trench coat from Oldale. Whatever intimidation that the boy originally commanded had disappeared under the revealing light, showing his scrawny limb and nerd-ish look. Hands on a crying kid would normally be cause for concern if said kid wasn't halfway sunk into the ground. Kane's head was barely visible over the thick glades, blown up like a balloon and glowing red.

  The shout came out with only a few sputters. "Oi! Popcorn seat number one over there? Could you come over and give me a hand?"

  He jumped, checked around—nobody other than him. The whole situation made a little more sense when he waded into the grass. There was a hole that had trapped one leg, the other leg feebly trying to push it out. Dirt pressed against the bare skin. It was so interesting that he stalled in actually helping just to get better views of just how stuck the kid's leg was. It made sense why the young kid was panicking so bad.

  "Oh, it's you gov'na. Thought that you'd be a little more proactive than this," Kane grumbled. His hands were hooked underneath the kid's armpits, giving an experimental tug when he could. "This is why there should be classes directly about the Q and A's about a journey. Like, I don't know, don't actually walk through grass that you can't see through? Think about how pissed a Geodude would've been if it were—"

  Kane was interrupted as a hand flew out and smacked him across the jaw.

  With one person clearing the grass so they could get a better view and another instructing, they went through the laborious process that reminded him of a keyhole. Turn the shoe, find the tumbler, click! Repeat the process until the kid was scurrying back to town forfeiting the chance to ever become a trainer again; he'd be out again two days later, getting thrashed by the kids from his school who had more experience.

  Smacking his hands together as if that'd free them of the sticky beads of sweat from the warmest part of a person's body, Kane recomposed himself into the same personality that he had the previous day. A grin attempting to be roguish was attempted. A voice attempting to be from down under was attempted too. Somehow both were working.

  "Thanks for the assistance, gov'na. Brat got himself stuck in there and nobody was stopping to help so, y'know! Got to be the hero in some stories. Hero. Hero? Hero! That's who you are!"

  He pointed a finger to his chest. "Hero? My name's Brendan."

  "Good to finally get a name to the face, hero!" Brendan turned his shoulders inward as Kane slapped his back. Way too familiar way too fast. "You've already heard my name. I'm the traveling merchant Kane. One foot in the buyer's market and the other in the seller's."

  "Brendan. Pokémon trainer." He said the next part much quieter, "or I'm trying to be."

  "That's why you're out and about? I've never been much for training myself. Call me an anti-trainer, and that ain't cause I hate trainers." Kane's eyes squinted brow furrowed as if he were thinking. "Hey, you know about what 'timeline' means?"

  Brendan leaned backwards from the sudden intensity. "Um, a line of things that happen?"

  Kane kept up the facade before cracking back into that stupid smile. "Yeah, about what I expected. Not that you traveling around changes nothing. Just says a lot. Like, what if there's some kind of thing going over in Unova, you know? Right now? Not that it matters much to me. So! We're both going over to Petalburg, yeah? Let me tag along, gov'na!"

  Brendan took a second to realize that the topic shifted. "What? Why would you want to travel with me?"

  "Because I'm not a trainer so I don't have any way to defend myself if I'm attacked!" Kane yelled, putting his hands to his hips.

  Brendan had to remind himself what part of the region that they were in: the southern part. The southern part of the region which had a reputation of being temperate and safe, amazing combinations for tourists allegedly. It was always bragged about even in the boonie towns that didn't see any of these tourists. There was a literal negative amount of human-pokémon incidents, since the pokémon would occasionally help a fledgling trainer from a bad situation and save their life.

  Eyes trailed down Kane's figure. Nothing really jumped out to him from a second inspection. People in real life weren't detectives and sometimes the grease stain underneath Kane's collar was just a grease stain.

  There was no reason to dismiss the offer. Traveling with another person may help his confidence, Brendan reasoned, seeing somebody who was even less familiar with pokémon than he was. Confidence boosts could come from a genuine desire to help along with comparing yourself with the absolute rock bottom. Brendan saw somebody who could be helped by his minute, shallow pool of pokémon knowledge.

  "Sure," Brendan said.

  He wasn't expecting for Kane to grab his wrist and start dragging him along. "Great! I've got a lot of product to sell, so let's-a go, gov'na! Daylight's a-burning!"

  Despite him wishing for an opportunity to prove himself, the reputation of southern Hoenn prevailed. What was he really expecting in a heavily populated route? The absolute worst thing to happen was the two watching a new trainer getting destroyed by a person with a single gym badge. Brendan picked up the pace so his new companion wouldn't see the same situation happen with him.

  The relative closeness of towns allowed them to arrive at Petalburg when the sun started to set. The town was metaphysically rural, its borders between civilization and nature constantly flexing. Kane was especially unimpressed by the tiny strip of grass that interrupted the path as if declaring 'here be city' from the entirely similar dirt path that continued into town. Trees broached into the town proper with barely a care of the branches that hung over the squat buildings. None of this was helped by the complete lack of public pavement. A shore of water that had pooled near the town's edge made Kane shiver, thinking of the mosquitoes that the place must've had during the height of summer. Deeper within were buildings that from a higher vantage point were still indistinguishable from the forest when they were still surrounded by trees, though had the decency to be actual 'city buildings' that were more than 3 stories.

  A girl stopped them just before they entered the town proper. "Welcome to Petalburg!" read a wooden sign staked into the ground just next to her, hidden behind her red shirt that hung off her shoulders with thin straps. The giant bow on the girl's head made Kane just think about how impractical that was, though conceded that he was the one walking around in a trenchcoat; most days felt as if he were stuck into an oven, while making him feel like he wasn't wearing anything at all when the sun went down. Her smile would've been infectious if her audience wasn't the most irreverent boy coupled with the most morose one.

  "May!" Brendan yelled.

  "Me!" she yelled back. Her hands gestured to the addon. "Who's this? Are you finally going out and making friends?"

  "I-I don't know?" Brendan said.

  "I think that we're a little more casual than that, gov'na," Kane said wryly, sticking out his hand. "The name's Kane. Traveling merchant. Would you happen to have a pokédex?"

  "Of course! My dad's giving them out to every trainer who comes by his lab! What d'ya need them for?" she asked. She flaunted the pink-colored one that was in her pocket before stuffing it back in.

  "Just need you to use it often enough that people see them." Kane's voice started losing the deliberately rough edges as it turned nearly into bubbly wonder. "But, uh, what's with the custom design? It's all girly and stuff."

  "It's great, isn't it?"

  "I meant how that's even practical. They've literally just started being made."

  May's grin turned wider. "Oh my gosh, you're totally plugged in. So you know how the scientists are part of some whole group? Like the scientist group? Of scientists? My dad knows Professor Oak and…"

  Brendan trailed behind them with a pout. Who cared if he was making friends or not? He could make friends at his own pace. Moving into a new region where he didn't know a single person was cause for at least a little moping, which he was not doing because it was perfectly normal to be down when you left behind your friends and it was normal to be sad without moping. The two were talking perfectly normally—Kane mostly listening but pitching in with equally enthusiastic responses—as if they were lifelong friends. Brendan felt as if his chest was burning up.

  Pokémon centers were standardized across the region. The only influence that local owners had over its existence were the drinks, kept inside the secret refrigerator underneath the counter, and the paintings. Even the books were curated to be about specific pokémon, talking about the dangers of Rattata or common mistakes trainers made since this was the normal gym. She handed her pokémon to the nurse as Kane showed the items that he was lugging around.

  An elbow was driven into his ribs when she realized that Brendan had been left behind.

  "Why are you so quiet? I'd think that you'd be jumping at a chance to see your father again!" May said.

  "It's not like I didn't see him earlier this week," Brendan mumbled, "and that's kind of the problem. I'm going to see him in his gym."

  Kane snickered, leaning on the table. "Big shoes to fill, hero?"

  "Hero?" May asked.

  Before Brendan could give a sober account, the unsober one between them spoke up. "You should've seen it. I was stuck in the tall grass because this kid got his foot stuck into a hole. You should've seen it. I swear that there was a ground-type down there giving us grief by making the dirt clamp down onto his leg. And then, you should've seen it, Brendan saw what was happening and came to help. He calmed the kid down and pulled the grass back so we could see his foot. All of that pretty much his doing. If it weren't for him then we could've gotten attacked by a wild pokémon! I'm pretty defenseless, y'know, since I ain't a trainer."

  May repeated the word. She rolled the word around in her mouth, gnawed on it a little, before lighting up like a firework. An explosion of exuberance made her words a little hard to understand with how much emphasis pushed them out.

  "Hero! That's awesome! I can't believe that the boy who moved into town is so heroic!"

  Brendan rubbed the back of his head, chuckling nervously. That was definitely not how he would've told the story.

  "But, hero! You didn't tell me that your dad's a gym leader. Why are we wasting our time here when there's stuff to do?" Kane turned to May with a smirk. "Speaking of, why don't you come along with us? Your personality's fun, which is great to show that my products are used by good people."

  "I've heard that a journey is supposed to be private though," May said.

  That was what Brendan heard too. Granted, there were a lot of things that he heard about the journey in Hoenn that was completely different from Johto. Take the beliefs between the regions (so he was told by his dad): the former thought that the journey connected you with the long line of trainers that came before while the latter believed that the journey taught children the importance of living amongst nature. Brendan heard that Kanto perverted the origin of the journey and taught their children it was about getting stronger, creating an army of soldiers that would one day dominate Johto; his dad said that was a schoolyard rumor that was completely false, and he remembered that night his parents doing dishes side by side, his dad repeating it to his mom and both of them overpowering the radio with laughter. Hoenn definitely (still according to his dad) also was more lax on those who couldn't get far. Brendan remembered some kid back home being made fun of because the dad hadn't been able to get his first badge. One of the men back in his (new) home was proud to talk about how badly he'd gotten thrashed at the second gym before calling it quits.

  All of this was a little too much for Brendan's undeveloped mind to comprehend. Brendan believed that kids, and especially himself, weren't meant to be talking about stupid stuff like good and evil, the complexities of stuff and stupid stuff. He liked when things were yes/no or good/evil. Walking alone good. Walking with others evil.

  Just repeating the concept in his head sounded stupid. He'd get bored if it was just him and Treecko for the entire trip. It wasn't his job to convince her though. Apparently Kane had taken it upon himself, hunching low, hands moving around as if narrating a great fable of knights and dragon-types.

  "Think about this closer! Trainers are always told that they get stronger through fighting each other—but is that a good lesson? Is it the real lesson? Why do you have a 'team' and not a group of pokémon that are under you? It's because you're all working together, which is what makes all of you strong! When you're congratulated, it's about having a good pokémon and training it well. We're always told that two heads are better than one. So what's wrong with there being two people? Two people make each of their journey safer because they can fight off wild pokémon better and collaborate for stuff. Therefore, the people who do their journey alone are dumb, fo' real."

  Brendan and May looked as if their entire worldview was thrown into the waves.

  "My dad hasn't ever said that I need to go alone and he's the smartest person that I know," May said.

  "Exactly! Trainers are actually meant to travel together and it's just people who don't have friends jealous of those who do," Kane said.

  Brendan stiffened up as his hands were grabbed and shaken. "Do you hear that? We can travel together!"

  Something dumb inside of Brendan awoke. He knew that it was dumb, and if it were real then it'd probably have a slimy black skin with red eyes just because nothing so dumb and malicious could look nice.

  "I didn't agree to having you two follow me. And are we even friends?" Brendan said.

  Her hands slid from his as the enthusiastic expression melted into a disappointed one. Kane was looking at him trying to convey an entire page of his thoughts into a single stare. His chest burned, hands still held aloft where she was holding them.

  "But it's fine. It sounds good. We can travel together. Yeah," he quickly added.

  May bounced back as if nothing happened. "Cool! I'm going to get my pokémon!"

  She ran off to the counter. Kane winked.

  "Don't worry. I didn't notice any slip up. Though next time don't be like that with her. She seems like she genuinely wants to be your friend. Then again, she seems like the type who would make a friend with a rock if it looked nice enough."

  Didn't that feel nice? The only person in town who took to him was the girl who would make friends with rocks. She came back and went back to talking Kane's ear off. He only spoke up to say that they should visit the gym. Better get it out of the way earlier than later.

  Down the street were doors that he was expected to become familiar with. Whatever teen angst that he felt slid off the closer that they got to the gym, replaced with pure anxiety. Under the quickly darkening night it became harder to differentiate the foreground from the front. That was the reason they didn't notice there were two people talking outside the gym's entrance until there was no going back. Brendan saw his dad glance over to their group even as he continued talking to the kid half his height. It would've been hard to take the kid seriously if you didn't notice the six pokéballs on his side, at the very least an indication that a trainer had some sort of skill. No trainer could maintain that many pokémon without having something behind them, whether that be skill or money.

  It was easy to see past the transparent sliding door Norman was blocking. A single desk was all the formalities afforded before the first barren room, tatami mats on the far end and wooden planks on the closer one. 'ENTRANCE', a sign on the wall boldly read in another language. About the simplest design for a gym that Kane had ever seen. Though, when he thought about it longer, he'd only seen four gyms. Erika's was far and away the best, and he wasn't paid to say that. Blaine's was awesome. Koga's was stupid. Norman's wasn't good or bad. Was that an in-joke or were Norman's aesthetic sensibilities that poor?

  "Thank you for the fight, Mr. Norman!" the kid said before running off.

  Norman waved a goodbye before turning to the group with a wide smile. There were some traces of Brendan in the older man. Puberty hadn't yet revealed the broad jaw that would echo his dad's, and the severe gaze lost impact from being attached to his gangly limbs. May's head kept snapping between the two.

  "Welcome to Petalburg, Brendan. You settling in all right? Haven't had any major problems with your journey?"

  "Yeah, dad," Brendan said.

  Norman glanced at the other two. "Are you going to introduce me to your friends?"

  That dark ugly thing came up unbidden again—why was everybody introduced as his friend like he needed playdates to talk?—and was shoved back inside when May pushed herself up front.

  "May Birch, sir, the girl who will take your badge within a few months time!" she yelled, pointing a finger to his face.

  He laughed deeply, throwing back his head at the direct challenge. "I'd like to see you try! It's easier for you to say such a thing when you're at the start of your journey. That kid you saw? It took him a year to get to where he was. Between you lot and I, if I wasn't tired from the move, then I would've beaten him and made him have to work for even longer. Tame your expectations. Maybe you'll be at my level in a decade."

  The finger pointed to the sky, another joining it. She looked like one of the coordinators that Brendan had seen advertised on the television. "Two months! That's all that we need! We'll be fighting you in two months and both of us will walk away with a badge. Heck, you could even say that we'll storm the whole League within two months."

  "I like you! You've got guts to say all of that. I'll be eagerly awaiting both of your challenges in a reasonable time frame." He turned to Kane, eyeing the little trenchcoat. "So are you not a trainer or do you just have more realistic expectations?"

  "Kane, sir, a traveling merchant. Would you happen to have a pokédex? If not, then we can come to an arrangement."

  "A pokédex? You're talking about that machine that the professor is trying to give out to everybody," Norman said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Were you sent by the professor to bother me into taking one?"

  "A professor sent me, but not the one you're thinking of. Professor Oak wants to have the word of the pokédex spread far and wide, so here I am. If I can get every gym leader to use one then I think that'll be the greatest advertisement that I could get," Kane said.

  "What use could I have for one? I know enough about pokémon," he said.

  May jumped into the conversation, bounding forward on one foot. "Oh! I can answer that! With a database that will contain every known pokémon, you'll never be blindsided by strange abilities and typings even if you're dealing with a wild one that you're unfamiliar with! They're going to include all kinds of apps that'll make it easier for you to—"

  "Alright, alright, you've convinced me. I would've taken up the professor on his offer earlier if I knew he was going to send kids as salesmen," Norman said. He glared into the sky as if he were offended by the sun leaving. "Looks like we don't have any time for more challengers. I'll close up the gym. Want to come back with me, kids?"

  "Dad! We're not going to be able to keep up!" Brendan complained.

  May tilted her head. "Keep up?"

  Norman looked around as if somebody would be listening in. It was a fake act that made him seem like he was divulging a great secret—and it worked, with both May and Kane leaning forwards like they were one of the few he was privy towards. He got on one knee and whispered.

  "I told the press that I can make the walk between my house and back in thirty minutes. It's more like an hour, but now I've already established myself as a fast walker," he said.

  It took May and Brendan a day to make the same trip. Sure, May had spent most of the time looking at the pokémon in the routes and creating extravagant lunches that were shared with a nice couple of cyclists who forgot their own, whereas Brendan was both metaphorically and literally dragging his feet, and Kane meandered in everything he did, but the sheer difference in time made the man seem even more gigantic. The duo couldn't stop their jaws from lowering in awe from the man's pace.

  "Fast walker," Kane said. He wasn't so impressed. Red had forced him into an army pace at times.

  "I strive to keep discipline in every part of my life. I can show you my route home and then treat you to dinner," Norman said.

  "This sounds fun. We should do it, you two," Kane said.

  May did a double-take, making a face so shocked that Kane doubted it was real. "What what what!? We did all this walking and you want to undo all that progress?"

  "It's a journey, not a business. You're trying to get all the badges so you can challenge the elite four, which is a nice goalpost, but the journey has about the least deadlines you're gonna worry about in your life. Enjoy your worry-free time, gov'na," Kane said.

  "Everything that he said is right. There's no problem in worrying about expending extra effort, but you can make this trip within two hours even with your little legs. I'll teach you proper walking techniques so you can walk most efficiently," Norman said.

  "But this is going to cut into the two month deadline!" May complained.

  Norman took it in good humor. "Then why don't we consider this day a cheat day? Two months from tomorrow."

  They ended up walking back. May only pouted for half the trip. Norman also turned out to have vastly estimated the kids' stamina and made the trip take about two and a half hours instead.

  He stood outside the house, staring into the trees as if another 'friend' would reveal itself. Treecko was relaxing against the wall, staring in the same place trying to figure out what his trainer was looking at.

  The day was exhausting in multiple ways. The part that hurt the most were his calves, abused from the insane pace that his dad considered relaxed. The second hurt was about every part of his personality having a different issue with a different part of the day. Getting to see his dad in his working environment was both aweing and crippling. Just to imagine the person who he was expected to become, a person so prestigious that a foreign region asked him to take over the duties of a gym. Seeing the gym in person had made it seem more like a cathedral. It made him feel smaller than normal.

  All these feelings were way too complicated for him to comprehend. He considered that might've been the point of going on a journey—something about connecting with nature, or being alone, or being forced to rely on your pokémon for survival (even when there were generally rangers less than a stone's throw away), or just getting to beat the crud out of other trainers' pokémon made you more mature somehow. Brendan certainly didn't feel more mature standing out in the chilly night and he didn't feel more mature asking around Oldale for lodgings. He didn't feel as if a spark awoke within him watching other people battle, and he didn't recognize his battling as significant when all the wild encounters he had so far nearly led to Treecko fainting.

  The worst part was his dad bantering with May. His dad humoring the bold declaration by constantly prodding May's side made him ill. It took Norman himself a little over a year and a half to blow through all the badges and beat multiple elite four members. After that he went to Kanto to train there, almost beat all the elite four again, before keeping active within the battling community after he went back to school. 'More reasonable time frame' his dad said. What did that mean? If his dad thought that a few months wasn't realistic, then was his own dad's time frame in mind, or did his dad think that he was like the trainer who was going to have his energy go kaput when he tried the fourth gym badge an eighth time?

  The front door flew open, startling the two. The makings of a grass move dissipated in Treecko's hands as May walked up, stretching.

  "Your dad's a great cook! I was thinking that your mom was going to be doing everything since she looks like a stay-at-home mom, but your dad broke out that pink apron and went to work! I hope that my future husband will be like that." May sighed dreamily, starry eyes unfocusing into an alternate reality. "He's going to be handsome and great at cooking. Oh! He also won't mind getting dirty so we can play sports together. They're so much fun. Since he doesn't mind getting dirty then I think that it'd also be good if he knew how to garden because gardening is a good skill that makes the house look better and I don't know how to do it. Maybe he could teach me, which would mean he'd have to be a good teacher too…"

  All that took the wind out of Brendan's sails. He was further reattached to reality as her ramblings started to detach.

  "They say that there's a Magikarp for every Magikarp in the sea, but I think that you're starting to describe a Gyrados instead," Brendan said.

  May halted mid-rant, blinking. "Did you just finally make a joke? And it was at my expense? How dare you! I'm only going to accept the cream da cream of men. I deserve the very best, especially since I'm going to be the Champion. You understand, right? Your dad's a gym leader so you get being the best that you could possibly be. No, not even that. Being better than you could've been! Being Champion! It's not like the kids who say that they're going to be Champion and get stuck on a single gym leader. We're going straight to the top. On our own we would've merely been elite four level, but we're going to be the greatest Champion duo of all time! Is that how it works? Ah, whatever! We'll be the first!"

  Brendan felt his fingers curling inwards. He was getting doubts before his journey really even started (and that image reinforced itself considering that he was spending another night at home). Not even a single minute had been spent on training. Did he even really understand what training was? No, but there was a person who did.

  He couldn't say that he liked the responsibility. Yet even more than that, he hated how he was feeling.

  "Let's train," Brendan said. "You said two months, right? We don't have that much time. We need to be as active as possible."

  At the mention of a battle, Treecko leapt to his feet and bounded over in a few steps. His toes kicked against the ground like he was a soccer player getting ready.

  They were at each other's throats seconds later. The battle wasn't as grand as those that would be had by experienced trainers as neither had much strategy past hitting the opponent. Kane watched impassively through the living room window where it would've been devilishly easy to be noticed if the people he was watching weren't the least observant dullards around. Any details past the figures were impossible to see thanks to the light difference, making him finally back off into the cozy din of artificial lighting. It was a quaint place where most of the house-y functions were kept inside of the gigantic single room on the first floor. Brendan's mom was working in the kitchen on the other side of the room while Norman laid on the couch.

  Kane's skeleton did its best to leap out of his body when he realized that the man had been watching him. It was spy on spy on spy action. The intense gaze almost felt incriminating, and Kane couldn't discern if that was his guilty conscience talking or not. He decided to approach the situation as if the man didn't know about the hidden bomb in his coat.

  "S'up, gov'na?" Kane asked.

  The couch creaked as Norman shifted on it. The thing had been trusty back at their old home and Norman wasn't the type to leave anything behind just because. It took the television's power button falling out with smoke spilling from its opening before he reluctantly bought a new one.

  "Just trying to figure you out. You're not one of those Team Rocket people running from Kanto, are you?" Norman asked.

  It was hard not to break out laughing from that. "Not at all, sir. You could say that I was a witness to their ignominious fall."

  "See, that's one of the problems that I'm having. I don't think my kid could explain what an 'economy' is. You're using words like that while claiming to be working for Professor Oak." Norman shook his head. "What am I even talking about? You probably have proof if you're making such an absurd claim."

  The only response to such a poorly disguised question was taking out the documentation that Oak made to prove that he was acting under the professor's guidance—which also gave him the opportunity to show it off for the first time. It was a simple laminated card that had all the relevant, personal info on it while providing stuff that the professor mysteriously claimed would quell any doubts. Kane couldn't know that international professors had a system kept purposely quiet where their symbols had material built in; those symbols, unique for each professor, were glossy only when held at an angle against the light. Scanning these would prove that they were legitimate but most would be convinced just by the symbol being there, and most skeptics if it used the correct material. Very rarely did that curved pokéball in the center of a magnifying glass get scanned.

  Norman spun it around before handing it back.

  "So you are. Sorry for doubting you. It's not everyday that somebody from Kanto comes down here, much less somebody working for a famous professor."

  "Ain't that yourself?" Kane asked cheekily.

  Norman thought about that before chuckling. "I'm not working for a professor, but I see your point. You want to spread the pokédexes around? My advice would be to try and convince Roxanne to teach a class on its use. I haven't been around here long but Roxanne was the first to reach out to me and," he blew air out of his mouth before continuing, "I think that she's going to go crazy over these if I've judged her right. I wouldn't be surprised if she already knew about it and was pestering the good professor for one. No way that her whole class knows about it though, and I doubt there's more than ten pokédexes in the whole region."

  He played with the device that laid on the table. The man's hands easily fit over the smaller buttons, working through the menus with pleased hums.

  "Devious. Indoctrinate the kids before corrupting the adults. You're a real businessman, Norman," Kane said.

  "It's statements like those that make me worry. It sounds like you three are traveling together for a bit, so please don't corrupt my kid," Norman said.

  Twisted fingers slipped behind Kane's back. "I promise."

  "I can see those."

  "You were supposed to."