–England–
“I’m reluctant to part with this
one,” said the man, scratching his scruffy chin. “I raised it by
hand, and it’s never left my side.”
“O-O-Oh. Um... th-that’s...
that’sokayI’lljustfindsomethingelse!” Momoko squeaked. She
pivoted on her heel and started to walk briskly away, but given her
size, even her briskest walk was a slow one. The man reached down and
gently plucked her off the floor. She squirmed in his hand.
He chuckled. “Easy, now. I won’t
hurt you. I’d be happy to trade my Slurpuff to you, but I’d need
something better than what you’re offering.” He set Momoko back
down.
Melody frowned at her sister. “D’you
got anythin’ else you wanna give, Momoko?”
Momoko stared at the Poké Ball in her
hands. It contained a Vullaby. She had caught it on a whim while
practicing with Cerise, and Melody had suggested she keep it, but it
had responded poorly to Momoko’s attempts to train it. After a few
weeks of struggling to befriend the ornery bird, she gave up and
decided to trade it for something... softer.
“I... I d-don’t have
an-n-nyth-thing else t-to trade...”
“What about your Ditto?” asked the
Pokémon breeder. He inclined his head towards Amity, newly renamed
and currently shifted into the form of a Herdier. Confused, Amity
tilted her head... and kept tilting it until it was completely
upside-down.
“M-My Ditto?”
“My ‘dex here tells me that’s a
Ditto you’ve got, and it so happens I’ve been searching high and
low for one of them. They’re the Holy Grail for a Pokémon breeder
like myself; gotta catch them in the wild because they can’t be
bred, but then they’re little egg factories, breed them with
anything. Ain’t too many of them around here.” He glanced
resentfully towards the window and muttered under his breath,
“Should’ve stayed in Manhattan, but things just got too crazy
there.”
Momoko scuffed her feet against the
hardwood floor. “W-Would you... t-take... g-g-good care of
h-h-her?”
She had to admit, Amity wasn’t the
easiest to train or care for. She often disappeared, and hours later
they would find her, disguised as some common object they had taken
for granted. She failed to come when called; she seemed to think it
was a game, just simple hide and seek, but it caused much panic and
anxiety until Amity was found. She didn’t obey orders either.
They’d been home several months now, yet Momoko had managed to
teach her only one thing: how to play fetch, like a dog. She thought
it might be good to focus on training that wasn’t combat-oriented,
since that had been a spectacular waste of time. Ever since, she’d
made no progress except to hone Amity’s stick-retrieval skills. She
loved Amity, and it didn’t really matter to her if Amity could
fight or not. But it was so frustrating that sometimes Momoko wanted
to give up. She was ashamed to admit it, but maybe she just wasn’t
good enough to train a Pokémon like Amity.
“Of course!” chirped the breeder.
His eyes lit up just hearing that Momoko was considering it. “I
take excellent care of all my charges! Why, I’d treat that dang
blob like it were the Queen herself, God save her!” The man rubbed
his hands together greedily.
Melody frowned at Momoko. “You wanna
get rid of Ami?” she asked bluntly.
Momoko wavered under Melody’s
scrutinizing gaze. “N-No! W-W-Well, I, uh, I mean, I d-don’t...
she is r-r-r-rather... p-prob—problematic...”
polbem? whispered Amity.
Momoko turned to stare at her Pokémon
like a deer in the headlights.
m-moko no loev me?
“Oh, Amity, no!” cried Melody,
distraught. “Momoko does love you! And I love you lots! We both do!
Don’t we, Momoko?”
moko? whimpered Amity, eyes huge and wet. frands?
“I...” Momoko struggled to find the
words, but it was in vain. They were all gone.
Later, she’d regret her silence.
Melody would tell her it wasn’t her fault; she’d gotten
tongue-tied, froze up. She’d backed into a corner, stuffed her foot
in her mouth and couldn’t get it unlodged again.
But Momoko knew it was more than that.
At the time... she didn’t feel like
she deserved Amity. If she loved her Pokémon so much, why didn’t
she have more patience? Why, when Amity asked if Momoko really cared,
did it make her think of all those afternoons she’d wasted trying
and failing to coach Amity on the simplest of commands? Why did all
that frustration and irrational blame come boiling back to the
surface, and make Momoko want to say ‘no’ just to spite Amity? If
Momoko knew, deep in her heart, that she would never find another
Pokémon as loving and loyal as Amity, why did the voice in the back
of her head argue that Amity was too stupid to be of any real use to her?
Momoko didn’t have an answer to any
of those questions. She still didn’t. Back when it happened,
well...
It felt like an eternity of silence,
but really, it was just a few seconds of awkward pause.
And then Amity bolted out the door,
flowing through the crack in the doorjamb mere millimeters wide, a
sentient puddle of purple pouring onto the sidewalk outside, through
the gutter, down the sewer drain.
Gone.
