Pokémon Making It Big

[Pen]

Because if a rattata can do it, so can I.

So can anyone.

A story about a girl, a rattata, and some people they meet along the way, in a world that isn't as just or as fair as it should be.


{Art by the amazing @WildBoots}

Spoiler: Author's Note

This story has been with me since 2014, and since then I've worked on it slowly and sporadically. For the most up-to-date version, see https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9989826/1/Making-It-Big. It's a small story, but I like to think it's an important one. All feedback is welcome, but please note that the prose is intentionally simplistic at the start and grows as the protagonist grows. If you are familiar with the ffn version, some chapters in Part I have been combined due to their short length.

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[Pen]

Pokemon trainers are the lucky ones.

I asked Mom why I couldn't be a pokemon trainer and she explained it to me. To get a "starter," like you see on those big TVs, you need to already have enough money to buy "basic training supplies" so you can take care of the pokemon you get. Well, my dad does whatever work he can find on the docks and my mom spends every hour of the day she's allowed as a waitress at Cafe Sonata. We don't have that kind of money to spare.

I do my best to help out, but I'm not strong enough or old enough to be worth hiring yet, so I mostly hang around in the sewers. Sometimes I can find dropped coins or items there. My biggest find was an ultra ball some really stupid trainer left behind. When I first spotted it I thought I was dreaming, but I touched it and it was real. Then I thought for sure one of the trainers hanging around would spot it and claim it from me. If they did, how could I stop them?

I stuck the ball in my pocket, but it bulged horribly. So then I took my jacket off and tied it around my waist, the ball still hidden away in my pocket. I tried to walk real casual. When I was finally up on the open streets I nearly laughed with relief. I didn't, though. If people start looking at you funny, nothing good comes of it. They don't want scum on the streets.

I think the clerk at the pokemon mart cheated us when we sold it. Probably took one look at our clothes and decided he could get away with it. Mom says resale value is always lower, or something like that, but he only gave us 300 poke for it. I figure half of 1200 would be 600, and half again is 300. That's just a quarter of what it's worth, right?

That's not fair.

My best friend, Sammy, says I'm a whiner. She's right. I'm luckier than most of us: my parents have a house to rent that has heating in fall and winter, and I have a jacket. I love my jacket more than almost anything else ever. Well, I love Mommy and Daddy of course. I love, love, love Castelia cones even though I've only tasted them once, when the lady had some left over on a cold day when nobody was buying. But my jacket is the most pretty light blue, the color the sky's supposed to be like. The sky here always looks gray. Mom says it's the pollution.

There's only one thing softer than my jacket, and that's Champ's fur. Champ's my best friend who's not a human. I call him Champ⁠—Sammy says it's a lame nickname, but Champ tried to tell me his real pokemon name before and it just sounded like Rat-tat-tat-tata to me. He can't say my human name right either, so he calls me Rat-ratta-tat.

Everyone says rattata are pests, but they call me a pest too. I think Champ's amazing. His teeth can break through anything and he never gets lost when it's dark. I've gotten better at seeing in the dark, but I'll never be as good as Champ.

Champ and I have a plan. I'm worried it's a stupid plan, though. That's why I haven't told Mom or Sammy or Dad. That day when Mom explained about pokemon trainers to me, she said you don't need an "official" starter. You just need a strong pokemon⁠—well, a pokemon strong enough to fight all the wild pokemon and trainers out there. But to catch a strong pokemon without another pokemon first you need to buy lots and lots of expensive pokeballs. Or you need to pay for someone else to capture it for you or for someone else to raise it up for you.

So you need money.

Here's the thing, though. I don't need a pokeball for Champ to come with me. I've told him all about trainers⁠—the free food, free healing, the quick money. Also, unlike battles down in the sewer, trainer battles end when the pokemon are uncon-unconscious! He got all excited when I told him, chittered a whole lot, and gave me his biggest grin. Well, not exactly a grin, but he does this thing with his whiskers and ears that's basically the same.

It's late now, nearly time for me to run home so Mom and Dad don't worry. I'm sitting with Champ, and we're both thinking over our plan.

"If we want to do this," I tell him slowly, "we have to train so that you're stronger than all the other rattata. I know that sounds tough, but I'll help you! I can give you some of my food every day, so that you don't have to spend the day looking for some, and instead we can practice your moves. We'll be a team, right? That's something none of the other rattata have got."

"Tatta!" In response, Champ lifts his front paws up and down really quickly, like he always does when he's excited.

And you know what? I think we can do this.

I do.

Because even if no one else does, I believe in Champ.

 

[Pen]

We've been training for forever now!

Well, okay, maybe just a few months. But Champ has grown so much stronger! He learned this crazy new move where his teeth light up and then he just destroys everything! Only the stronger rattata who also know the glowy-teeth move want to challenge him now. It's actually kind of a problem, because battles with the strong rattata are really close and tire Champ out for the rest of the day. It would be easier if he could keep fighting the less tough rattata, but it wouldn't be right for him to beat them up even if he stopped when they fainted because then they would be too tired to find food that day and then some other pokemon would beat them up too and then they'd starve.

Recently I got an idea, though. After Champ beats a weak rattata, I give it enough food to get its strength back. I'm really glad Mom's friends with one of the chefs, because otherwise we wouldn't be able to get all these leftovers. I can't take too many though, or Mom might get suspicious. I don't want her to know what Champ and I are doing in case we fail. She's noticed me taking more food, but so far she just thinks I have a growth spurt.

Winter is almost over, and I've been thinking it would be best to leave in the spring. That way it wouldn't be cold, but it wouldn't be that hot either. I'm trying to figure out a way to tell Mom and Dad. I want to prove to them we're strong enough, so today Champ and I are gonna test ourselves outside the city.

The gate guard gives us a suspicious look as we leave the city, but we ignore him. Route 4 is a sandy mess. My hair starts flying all over and Champ lets out an irritated chitter.

"Let's get this over with," I mumble, and Champ agrees. He runs right off the road into a patch of brush. "Wait up!"

I hurry after him.

By the time I'm there Champ's already found someone to fight. It's a sandile. Sammy's told me all sorts of things about sandiles and I know she was probably lying so I shouldn't be worried, but now the sandile is staring at us with its eyes gleaming and I'm a bit nervous. Just a bit. Sandile opens its mouth in a lazy yawn and I see its teeth. They're really sharp, but not as strong as Champ's teeth, I bet. That makes me feel better.

"Go, Champ!" I say. Champ comes forward and twitches his whiskers threateningly at the sandile, who closes its mouth. Sandile starts to flick up sand at us, like there's not enough sand in the air already! "Champ, tackle it fast!"

Champ moves quickly, knocking that sandile right on its back. "Bite it hard," I tell him. Champ's teeth light up and he gets the sandile good, right on the stomach. The sandile twitches and the next second all this sand starts coming up from the ground, surrounding rattata like a whirlpool! I've never seen a pokemon do anything like that and I don't know how to help. Just as I'm standing there like an idiot, the sand settles back down and I can see Champ, looking tired. He's got sand all in his fur. He'd probably look funny if I weren't so worried.

"Come on Champ!" I say, trying not to sound nervous. "Fast tackle again!" Champ gets up and starts to run towards sandile, but as he's getting close, the sand covers him again. This time I run forward too, thinking that maybe I should dig him out and we should run, but the sand goes away quicker this time and Champ doesn't look much worse off. "Can you get it?" I ask.

"Tatta," Champ says loudly. He's close, and this time the sand doesn't stop his tackle. The sandile goes flying back a few feet and he doesn't get up. We wait for a moment, expecting him to move, but when he doesn’t I realize we've beaten the sandile!

"Champ," I say, "you're the best!"

In response, his ears and whispers perk up, so I know he's happy.

"Hey, are you okay, though? Did the sand get in your throat?"

Champ shakes his head. Well, that's good. But I still plan on giving him a long brushing when we get back.

The sandile stirs a bit, and I realize I haven't given it any food like I usually do after we win. I almost don't want to, because it gave me such a scare with the sand. But then I think I'm being stupid. If I spent more time here, I'd probably know all about the sand. So I stick some food close to sandile, but not too close. Even though sandile looks beat, I'm still a bit nervous about the sand.

"Guess we should head back home?" I say to Champ.

"Tatta," he agrees. "Rat-ratta-tat, rat-tat-tatta!"

I pick him up and spin around a bit. He glares at me, but he doesn't bite, so I know he's just pretending to be mad.

"We did it," I say.

But I know this is only the first step.

---

"You're crazy," Sammy says.

I stick my tongue out at her. Then I realize I'm acting like a kid, not a trainer, so I try to look stern or something. It doesn't really work, cause Sammy starts to giggle a bit.

"I'm not joking," I tell her. "Don't laugh."

She stops giggling and looks at me close. "You're not joking? But, Lena, I'm not joking either. That's crazy."

"You don't think we can do it?'" I ask her, but really I'm not asking. I'm kinda mad.

"You don't know too much about trainers, kay?" Sammy says. "I do. You see stuff working at a pokecenter. You thought about what happens if you lose? You're stuck out in the wild with no pokemon to protect you. And whoever you lose to can take your money, all of it! I mean, they wouldn't if you've got whatsit⁠—identification, right, but if you just look like a street rat with a pokemon, then I don't see what would stop them. It's not safe."

"Sure it's safe," I say. "If it wasn't safe, why would so many kids go for it? They don't need money or anything ‘cause they have nice clothes. They do it for fun. They wouldn't do it if it wasn't safe."

"It's safe for them," Sammy says patiently, like she always does when she knows better. "They look like trainers. No one bothers real trainers."

That's true enough. Trainers walk around like they're some sort of royalty, like we’re still back when Unova had a king and queen.

"Once I've won a few battles, then I can buy trainer stuff."

"Once you've won a few battles," Sammy repeats. "Do you really think you can win one?"

"Yeah," I say. "Me and Champ have trained hard⁠—"

"So have the other trainers. And they have pokemon raised for pokemon battles. They have rare, strong, special pokemon."

"Champ may not be rare or special," I say, "But he's strong. And Sammy? None of those other trainers⁠—what I mean is, they're doing this because it's fun. Champ and I are doing this because we need to."

Sammy's quiet for a moment. Maybe she's thinking about how she'll get a job waitressing one day if she's lucky. Then she smiles, but smiles sort of sad and sort of angry. "Bust them all up for me, will you?"

"I will," I tell her. Then I look down at Champ and correct myself. "We will."

---

My parents take it quietly.

"Lena," Dad starts, looking confused. "Do you really think⁠—?"

"Champ's strong," I tell him. "We're even beating pokemon outside the city."

Well, one sandile and a small scraggy we fought the next day, but same thing.

"Don't you have to register somewhere . . .?" Dad asks, trailing off.

"No." It's Mom. She sounds thoughtful, which is good. If Mom told me I couldn't go, or that I couldn't do it, then I wouldn't, because I trust Mom when she tells me no. "The laws have changed since we were young. And battle chivalry does ensure a kind of fair play."

I'm not exactly sure what "chivalry" means, but I don't want to say. I'm pretty sure Mom's agreeing.

"So I can go?"

Mom and Dad exchange a Look.

"Why don't you wash the dishes while we talk?"

I make a face. "You just want to talk about it when I'm not here."

"That's right," Dad says, smiling at me. "Off you go, then."

I start to leave with loud stomping sounds, then remember I'm supposed to be acting like a trainer, not a kid. I lift my head up and stand very straight. "Come along, Champ," I say. "We are going to do the dishes."

"Ratta-tatta," Champ says.

Most of the time I can hear everything that goes on in the house, since there's only really the kitchen, the bathroom, and the big room where we sleep, but with the water running I can't hear anything. Parents are sort of sneaky, I guess.

By the time Mom and Dad call me back, I've finished the dishes and I'm playing with Champ. Mom comes in first. I can't tell anything from her face. She and Dad sit on the ground next to me.

"By league standards you're old enough," Mom says. She means that I'm ten and eight months. You can leave on your journey as early as ten.

"Reshiram knows, you've seen more bad weather than most of the brats out there," Dad adds.

"I'm not going to lie," Mom says. "If you can pull this off, it would mean a lot to us." For a moment she frowns and I can see that she's getting older. Soon they won't want her as a waitress at the cafe. Experience is one thing, Mom told me once, but a pretty face is another. And Dad's been having problems with his back lately. That's probably ‘cause he spends so much time moving lumber at the docks, but if he can't bend well then he can't work.

Castelia's the greatest city in the world, but it's not cheap staying here.

"I know, Mom," I say, reaching out a hand to pet Champ. Champ's fur always makes me feel better.

"But Lena," Mom continues. "It's clear to me you love Champ. You may love being a trainer. And if you find something you love, nothing will make us happier."

"We're proud of you now," Dad says. "We'll always stay proud of you, no matter how this works out."

I don't know how to look at them, so I just keep petting Champ. He snuggles closer. "Thanks guys," I manage to say. "But I am gonna do good. And then you guys won't have to worry so much."

Then Mom's hugging really tight. "You shouldn't be worrying about us," she tells me. "Worrying is our job. Your job is to be a great trainer. Now come on, tell me how you met Champ here. Tell me how you've been training."

I wipe away some wet I hadn't even realized was on my face and take a deep breath. "Okay. It's a long story?"

"We've got all night," Dad says. He makes a show of crossing his legs and leaning forward.

"Well, it started in the sewers," I begin, sitting up and letting Champ hop to my side to help me act our first meeting out.

Champ and I go on speaking, and sometime in the middle of me talking I notice that I'm smiling and that my face is all dry. We’re huddled close, Mom and Dad and Champ and me, and I sort of feel like things might be okay.

---

Leaving almost feels too easy.

I mean, Mom hugs me and Dad hugs me and Sammy gives me a flying tackle which I think was a hug, but hugs aren’t new. I get hugs all the time.

Mom and Dad and Sammy aren't the only ones I say bye to. There's the other sewer kids, those funny dancers I used to tease, that crazy guy who hangs out in our alley who I think sells drugs, but he always liked Champ so I liked him⁠—but they aren't people who'll miss me if I'm gone. It's sort of a lonely thought. So many people live in this city, but only three will really miss me.

Mom had packed me up lunch and some food that should keep long enough for me to get to the next pokemon center. The idea of a pokemon center meal keeps getting me really excited. They have a buffet, that's what Sammy said. You get a tray and go up, and take whatever you want. And you can come back for more, all free! I told Sammy she was totally lying but she swore that she wasn't.

Mom and Dad had something else to give me, once I'd packed my clothes and my jacket. Dad carefully took a box out from his pocket. He offered it to me.

"A gift?" I said. "Really? Can I?" I don't really get gifts often. Mom and Dad try on the holidays, but I told Mom back when I was seven and starting to know things that I'd like it better if she saved and got me a real blue jacket like in the stores. Well, she did, and I love my jacket almost the best of all, so I think that was smart of me.

I took the lid off and then I didn't say anything because it's beautiful. Champ nibbled at my leg a bit because he wanted to see. Slowly, I bent down until I'm on my knees. I lay it out on the ground, respectful-like. Then it struck me that maybe the ground was too dirty. I put it back on top of the box fast.

"Lookit, Champ," I said.

"Rat-tat-rat!" he said.

"I know the C-Gear is popular nowadays," Mom said, sounding sorry. "But this'll have to do. It's been passed down in your dad's family. Stopped working, of course, but we found a friend who got it started."

It was a watch, an old-fashioned one, with an hour, minutes, and second hand, with a bright metal lid that I could click open and shut. There were little pictures scratched out on the lid of two great dragons, their heads held high.

"It's beautiful," I told Mom and Dad. "It's so nice. Like⁠—" I tried to explain, "like it's a thing someone important would have."

"Rat-rat!" Champ said loudly. He pushed his face into my side so that I fell over onto the floor.

"Okay, I'm being silly," I told him. "Hey, stop!" Champ was brushing his whiskers against my face and I'm sort of ticklish so I started laughing so hard, I was just flailing on the floor. At some point Dad moved the watch somewhere safe so I don't crush it. "Thank you." I remembered to say between my laughter.

"You're welcome," Mom said. She brushed a hair out of my face and blinked very fast for a moment. "We'll miss you, sweetling."

"Yeah," I said, sitting up and pushing Champ away. "I'll miss you guys too."

---

I swallow as Champ and I leave the city again. Route 4 is the same sandy mess, but this time I'm just looking up and up the road. I don't have a map, but the way seems clear enough that only an idiot would get lost, and somewhere up there is Nimbasa City.

I take a deep breath and stop slouching. I raise my head and with a gesture Champ comes to my side. I'm thinking that I'm not just Lena anymore.

Now I'm Lena, pokemon trainer.

 

[Pen]

I knew this would happen eventually. You're not a trainer till you've fought another trainer. That's what it's about. I didn't think I'd be so fraidy about it.

Right now I'm standing behind a boulder, in a way that just happens to keep my out of sight from the other trainers. It's not that I'm hiding. I'm just being cautious.

These two stupid looking guys with huge backpacks catch each other's eyes. I'm busy wondering what they could be keeping in such big backpacks. I don't think all the stuff I've owned ever would fit in a backpack that big. How do they even lift it? Don't they get really tired?

"I'm Waylon," says the first guy.

"Jerome," says the other. "Shall we?"

"By all means," Waylon says. Then he pauses. "Er, mind if I—" He jerks a finger towards his backpack.

The other guy lets out a sigh. "Not at all."

They both dump their back packs onto the sand and pull out their pokeballs. My head begins to poke out above the rock. So does Champ's.

It's a short fight, between a scrawny pidove and a striped thing that uses electricity. Still, the pidove gets in a few good hits before the—he called it blitzle?—gets its act together. Jerome lets out a sigh, but he doesn't seem too put out.

"Type matchups," he says, shaking his head. "Every time."

He pulls some poke out from his backpack and hands it to the other guy. I wonder how much he gave. Then Jerome's walking away and I'm walking out from behind the rock towards Waylon, who's still enjoying the break from his backpack. He looks up and our eyes meet.

"Great Zekrom in the sky! You a trainer?"

I nod. Then I'm not sure if that's enough so I say, "Yeah."

"Pokemon at your side, eh? Very Johto. You from Johto?"

The question weirds me out. I don't even have black hair. Even I know people from Johto have black hair.

"No!" I say. I almost blurt that I'm from Castelia, but it's not his business and I don't want him to know anyway. "Can we battle now?" I say.

"Eager, aren't you? Bet you just started out."

That's not a question, so I don't have to answer. I'm busy looking at his shirt. It's stylish, I think.

"Silent type, eh? Alright then, Blitzle, come on out!"

The blitzle looks tired. Champ, on the other hand, is totally pumped. Our battle goes even quicker than the first. Only a few fast hits and blitzle's lying still. It's not much different than fighting the not-trainer pokemon, really.

Waylon recalls his blitzle and gives another sigh. "Lost again. Pokemon training's really just a hobby," he tells me, though I'm not sure why. "Backpacking's my true passion. Still, battling can be fun on the side."

I don't get that. He's just fine with failing? Why does he even do it? I wonder if he's talking so much to avoid giving me money. If he tries to run away, Champ'll bite him first.

"Here's your cash, kid," Waylon says, handing me a fistful of poke. I take hold of it carefully, making sure to grip tight. There's a wind, and it would be too horrible if the poke scattered.

Waylon says more stupid stuff and then I think he leaves. I'm not listening because I'm counting the money.

"$120," I tell Champ. That's more than I've ever earned in one day, no matter what I found.

"Rat-tat?" Champ asks.

"It's good, Champ. It's really good."

"Tat," Champ says, looking proud.

Then I realize I've been an idiot. I bend down quick and scritch Champ by his ears just where he likes it. "You were so good, Champ! Against a trained pokemon and everything!"

"Rattata," Champ says, tilting his head under my head.

"It's just that I've had an idea, Champ. You beat that blitzle so easy because it was already weakened, right? And that was because it had already fought. And, well, these routes have lots of trainers. So I bet trainers are always fighting trainers. So what if we waited till one trainer fought another and left them weak, and then we would fight then, and then we'd win every time!"

"Tat-tat-tat!" Like Champ's sharing my excitement, his ears perk up and his whiskers twitch.

I sit on the sand petting Champ and thinking about my plan.

---

We’re close to Nimbasa now, and it's getting dark. Champ and me managed another win against a scruffy-looking starley, but after that he was tired, so we snuck down the rest of the route, ducking behind rocks and trees, so that no one would see us and want to have a fight.

When I walk into the city, I have to focus real hard on keeping my mouth shut and stopping my head from swiveling round and round. At home, all the buildings were gray, gray, gray, but here there are colors, and it's not even a festival day!

The people are more colorful too. They don't wear gray suits like the business people back home or the pieced-together greyish clothes of everyone else, but bright pinks and blues and yellows. Most of them are looking into their transceivers. The ones that aren't move together in large groups, laughing loudly with their friends. Mom calls Nimbasa the 24-hour leisure town, and I guess I'm seeing what she means.

The first place I go is the pokemart. The stupid clerk keeps an eye on me as I walk around the store, like I'm going to run off with his stupid items or something. Well, I'm not.

Almost half of my new money goes into buying a pokeball for Champ. They won't heal him at the pokecenter unless he's in a pokeball, that's what Sammy said. The pokeball is weird to hold. It's so shiny and perfect that I almost want to try and see if Champ's teeth can make a mark. I wonder⁠—if Champ was in the pokeball and something crushed it, would Champ die?

"Wanta try it?" I ask Champ.

He's also staring at the pokeball. "Rat-tat," he says, his tail going slowly from one side to the other.

"You don't have to. We can do the pokecenter thing tomorrow. We don't even need to go." I'm feeling pretty rotten at the idea of making Champ into red light and squeezing him into the ball.

"Rat-tat-tat," Champ reminds me.

He's right. "Okay," I say. "Champ. You just stand there. Uh, yeah. And I'll just⁠—"

I hold out the poke ball awkwardly, so that it's facing Champ and press down on the button. With a happy sort of click, the poke ball opens, red light going all around Champ like a sandstorm and then there's just a red light and then nothing. I'm holding the poke ball, and for the first time on this journey I'm actually alone. Champ's not by my feet, reminding me to be tall.

I take in a big breath and push the button again. It's like someone is squeezing my heart, but then there's Champ and he looks all the same. "You okay?" I ask him.

"Tat," he says."Ratta-tatta."

"What's it like?"

"Ratta-rat ratta-rat rat."

I don't think I've ever heard him say that before. Figuring out what Champ means when he talks sort of takes a while. I didn't understand him at all back when we first met. Well, I did get him when he nipped at my legs, but it took me some time and a lot more bites to figure out that Champ has a whole language, even though he only says one word.

I sit with Champ for a while, as we both listen to the sounds of this town. It's quieter than back home, despite all the colorful people⁠—quiet was almost a myth in Castelia, but here the voices of people on the street rise and fall and then fade into the light murmur of the wind on the rooftops.

"Do you think you can do it again?" I ask Champ. "So that you can be healed?"

"Ratta-tatta," he says.

"That's not a yes."

"Tat," he says, sure this time.

I stand. "Okay then. Let's check out our first pokecenter, yeah?"

I remind myself that Champ's already braved the pokeball, and so I can be brave too.

 

[Pen]

Nurse Joy is nice. Almost too nice.

I want to like her because she's nice, but she makes me feel all antsy. Maybe it's how she acts almost like she cares about me. She smiles really widely like how my mom does. Except she's not my mom and she doesn't know me, so her smile makes me want to flinch back a bit.

Instead I make a small smile back at her, just push up the corners of my lips and try not to look scared.

The pokemon center is shiny, shiny, shiny. I feel sort of dirty and like I don't fit. I keep thinking someone is going to notice me, and point me out, and call the whole town over to laugh at me and say, "She's different, she doesn't belong here."

I wish my clothes looked nicer.

But I know I'm being silly. Some other trainers walk in, sandy-sandy from the desert, and after that I don't mind so much.

While I wait for Champ, I read a pamphlet that Nurse Joy gave me when I started clenching and unclenching my hands because I had nothing to hold. I'm not fast at reading. There are schools at Castelia, but no one cares if you go or don't. Well, Mom cared, so I went, sometimes, but they mostly told you stupid stuff like the names of pokemon in far-away places like Sinnoh and Johto. Though now that I think about it, I guess knowing more pokemon names might be useful now.

"Whatever," I say, real quietly. "We don't need to know their names to beat them." Then I realize I've been talking out-loud to Champ, except Champ's not here, and then I freeze for a minute or so, too afraid to look anywhere but forward. When no one says a word to me, and the noisy hum of the pokemon center doesn't shift, I allow myself a shaky breath and risk a look around. It's all fine; no one's heard me talking to myself.

I try to read again, but picking out the words is tiring, and it's been a long day. My eyes are sore from the desert sands and my face feels raw from the wind. If I were home, I'd be half-dozing at the table while Mom and Dad put together something yummy, but I'm not at home and I can't fall asleep here.

I shift again on the pink cushion and start to bring my watch out, sneaky-like. Probably no one would steal it here, but all the same, I don't want people to be looking at it. Or at me.

The watch says it's been twenty-two minutes. I really, really want to ask Nurse Joy how long it'll be. Will I have to stay all night? Another five minutes edge by, and then when Nurse Joy glances around the room, I don't duck my head fast enough and she meets my eyes.

"Lena, right?" she says. "Have you been waiting this whole time? Your rattata should be done with his check-up soon." She looks down at her computer for a moment. "He's newly caught, yes?"

I’m not sure what to say to that. Champ and I have been together a long time, but the pokeball is new. Probably I should just agree.

"Yes," I say.

"Well, a wild pokemon's first check-up generally takes longer than a trained or bred pokemon's. We have to make sure the pokemon doesn't have any diseases or nutritional problems. Or pregnancies," she says, smiling at me, "but that shouldn't be a problem with your little guy."

I feel sorry for wanting to hide when Nurse Joy smiles. She sounds nice, like she cares about Champ, too. I don't think Champ's sick, but suddenly I'm worried that he is.

Maybe my worry shows, because Nurse Joy starts talking again."Disease isn't common," she says. "Most diseased pokemon don't go near enough to trainers to be caught. I wouldn't worry about your rattata. In fact, it looks like the check-up is over. Your rattata should be brought out in a few minutes."

"Great," I say, my tongue a bit too heavy. I start really smiling, at the ceiling, at the walls, at her. "That's great!"

"Will you be boarding in the center?" she asks me.

My smile tries to run away from my face, but I don't let it. "Um," I breath in, "yeah?"

"Then give me your trainer ID, and I can sign you in."

It's like I've been walking through the city, and the sun's especially bright and the air especially sweet, when suddenly I've walked over an open manhole and didn't notice, and then I'm falling so far down into a dark hole that doesn't have a bottom. I grip the sides of my jacket sleeves real tight.

"My parents didn't tell me about a trainer ID," I say, only a little trembly.

Nurse Joy lets out a sigh, like Dad does when it's trash day. "Parents," she says, shaking her head. "They never do. Well come here, dear, we'll get you set up."

I take small steps forward until I'm back standing at the front counter. Nurse Joy's sat down in front of her computer.

"Name?" she asks.

"Lena."

"I should have specified, Lena. I mean your full name."

"Oh." I blush a bit. "Lena Castel."

"Hometown?"

"Castelia City."

"Are you planning to register for this year's Pokemon League?"

"Um."

"If you aren't sure, you can wait, but you need to register no later than three months before the competition."

"Okay." I think most trainers do register, so probably I shouldn't say that I don't want to.

"Now, smile!"

Hesitantly, I do, as Nurse Joy holds a small screen in front of me. It flashes, and I blink. Nurse Joy turns it around and I see my face: tangled hair, sand-reddened skin, and looking like I'm facing down a beartic. Nurse Joy smiles a bit. I think she's laughing at me, but I don't mind. I would laugh at me too. "You can update your ID photo at any city pokemon center," she tells me.

"Okay."

"Put your hand onto this screen, please," Nurse Joy says. When I hesitate, she explains. "This device will record your fingerprints. Standard procedure."

I guess the device makes a picture of my hands, or something. I put my hands onto the screen, and a minute later, Nurse Joy says, "Done! That's the last of it. I should have your trainer ID ready in the next hour or so. Just check back here to pick it up."

I think I'm allowed to take my hands off the screen, so I do.

Nurse Joy presses a button on her desk, and talks for a moment. She smiles at me again and says, "Your rattata is finished with his appointment, too! He's perfectly healthy, if a bit on the scrawny side. Why don't you too have some dinner now? Cafeteria is open all hours."

A chansey brings Champ out and he runs over real fast to me and jumps in my arms. I hold him close and stroke his fur and scritch his head a bit. And I lean down and say softly into his ear, "Guess what, Champ? We're going to the buffet."

---

My first thought is, Sammy wasn't lying. The buffet is enormous. There's food in these great big silver platters with great big spoons for ladling it onto your plate. There are white, white, white mashed potatoes—without skin bits in them! Mom always leaves the skin bits in because she says they're good for me.

By the mashed potatoes I find soft fresh rolls that sort of melt in my mouth when I chew. Most of the bread we usually ate was more crunchy. I liked it crunchy, but the soft is so, so good.

There's also some nutriloaf, which is what non-vegetarians who aren't rich eat. I put some on my plate just to try but it tastes weird. I eat it all though, cause Mom told me to never waste my food, and I shouldn't, not even here.

There are these fried dough balls on a stick that are so greasy and yummy I want to dance. I would have danced if I were at home. There's also lots of salad, which I don't see the point of. But the pecha berry salad is sweet so I try some of that.

The biggest shock comes when I bring up my plate to put it with all the others. Most of the other plates still have food on them! One has a whole serving of mash potatoes and two dough balls! The cleaning woman reaches for the plate and without thinking I put up my hand to stop her. "Sorry! That's—that's mine. I'm not actually done." Quickly I snatch the plate and walk back to the tables. I hope she didn't think that was weird. What if she throws me out? But when I risk looking up she's back to cleaning the plates.

Most of the trainers are chatting with each other, but I find a table where no one else is at except this quiet old lady. She's got gloves and her clothing looks made nicely. She's eating a salad.

Even though I'm full, I eat the mashed potatoes and the dough balls and give some to Champ. Champ really likes the dough balls but I think they're bad for him. Tasty things often are.

Once I've finished that second plate, I find the lady watching me hard.

"It's nice to see a young lady finishing her plate," she says.

"Thanks," I say. "Mom said I should," I add, because I notice her plate is clean too.

"So many rude children around," she says. "I'm glad some youngsters still listen to their parents. Really, running to and fro without a please or a thank you, no manners at all. Now dear, you always thank your mother when she works hard, don't you?"

"Yes," I say.

"Good." The lady nods like my manners are somehow her doing. "You'll go far, child, if you mind your etiquette."

I don't know what etiquette means but I'm too nervous to ask her. "Thank you," I say again. "Er, I need to bring my plate up."

She nods and waves a hand, which I think means I can leave. "C'mon Champ," I mutter, and we go.

---

There's a whole bunch of kids my age, or close to it, standing together in the lobby. One of them waves me over.

"Why've you got your rattata out of its pokeball?" the boy asks me right away once I'm close.

The question takes me by surprise. "Johto style," I say quickly, remembering Waylon.

He nods like what I said makes sense and moves to the side, making room for me. "We were just talking about what pokemon we plan to catch," he tells me.

"Rare pokemon," adds a girl. "Special pokemon."

"Not rattatas, that's for sure," says another boy with a short laugh. He smiles at me. I don't smile at him.

"Bet you can't wait to ditch yours for something stronger, huh?" the girl asks me. Her voice sounds nice, except I don't think it's nice.

I don't say anything. I just sort of leave. They're all saying stuff behind me as I walk away—"Hey, no offense meant!" "Didn't mean—" "Think she actually likes that rattata?" "Weirdo" "People get gushy about their first catch, I don't blame her." But I don't listen because I don't care.

I don't care.

 

[Pen]

For the next week, Champ and I do the same thing. In the morning we eat a huge breakfast at the pokecenter. Then we go out and train. Champ does his moves, but really we're just watching all the other trainers.

Right now these two trainers are facing off. They're both Fives—that's what the other kids call a trainer with five badges. Fives are only 'sposed to fight Fives, or maybe Fours or Sixes. Same goes for all the other trainers who have so many badges, you're only 'sposed to fight people at your level so it's fair. Since I don't have any badges, I'm a Noob.

I only fight the other Noobs, or the stupid-heads who pokemon train as a "hobby" like Waylon. I could fight a One if I wanted to, but I don't see why I should. It's not like they pay much more, and if Champ gets beat then the whole day is over and I have to sit in my pokemon center room staring out the window and being bored. If Champ gets beat, it's hard to keep myself from sneaking over to the great big carousels and imagining paying for a ride. But everything is expensive in Nimbasa, and I know I can't. Anyway, when Champ gets beat he feels bad, and I hate it when Champ feels bad.

I find a stone the size of an oran berry.

"Bite," I tell Champ, and toss the stone at him. He leaps up and his mouth works real fast. Then the stone's in two bits on the ground.

A trainer calls out, "Fury swipes," and I see a purloin attack with flashing claws. Purloins are meanies. They want food when you've got it. They want food when you haven't got it, too. A purloin stole Sammy's whole dinner once, though I think that was sort of her fault. Sammy likes purloins.

Sammy's a bit weird.

I've watched this purloin train. Its claws look fierce, sure, but I've seen it scratching up the tree and I think Champ's teeth are stronger. Strong's not the only thing I have to think about now, though. There's speed, too. I think the purloin and Champ move about the same, both purple blurs when they get going.

"What about it, Champ?" I say. "Wanta beat that purloin?"

"Tatta," he says.

We move closer to the purloin trainer. She's a hobby trainer, I'm sure, and her purloin's no real fighter.

"How about a battle," I say with a sort of smile. At my feet, Champ says, "Ta ta!"

She looks surprised for a moment. Then she smiles back and gives her purloin a pat. "Fine by me," she says. Her purloin struts out and Champ goes up to meet it.

"Tackle," I say. Tackle's a good way to start. Some pokemon dodge; some pokemon attack right back. Either way, it shows me a little more about how they fight. Besides, trainers think tackle is a noob's move.

"Dodge it, Purloin," the trainer says. The purloin dodges right, easy enough. Champ's tackle gave it plenty of time. "Now, fury swipes!"

Purloin comes in close, claws shining.

I say in a jumble, "Stay. Tail whip. Hyper fang." We've only ever practiced this so far, but Champ's tail blocks the purloin's first swipe. As it blinks, he's already turning, his teeth bright. Champ hits the purloin straight on.

"Woah," the trainer says. "Fast rat." She's frowning as her purloin gets up. "Sand attack!"

"Close your eyes, Champ," I say. He does just as the sand hits his face, but his eyes are still closed when the purloin moves closer again, and starts to swipe. Again and again. I feel useless as Champ is getting beat. Cuts open all across his body.

The purloin steps back to breath. "Fury swipes, again," says its trainer.

Champ can't take that again.

"Sneak move!" I shout. Champ's done this before a few times, but it's still the best and most scary thing. Even though he's slow from purloin's claws, Champ's suddenly right by purloin, dark and close as a shadow. He hits purloin and it goes down.

Champ and I breathe, but the purloin doesn't get up.

With a small sigh, the trainer recalls her purloin and gives me a smile and a mound of poke. "Have a nice day," she says.

I'm busy hugging Champ, so I don't watch her go.

---

I'm not sure why I did it.

Maybe I just went funny in the head for a bit. That happens, right? Once I got loopy as a spinda off some candy I scrounged and I just started dancing in the streets with the weird dancing boys. Sammy still teases me for it.

I don't know why I challenged her. I mean, she was a One, with her badge and her black hair gleaming and her clothes like the ones in the pokemon trainer posters.

"When I met Haya I just knew," she was telling a few other kids. "I mean, we clicked. And Haya's just a real fighter. She's gonna smoke out the gyms, all in a row, whoomph!" She makes a motion and the kids smile. "Professor Elm said that Haya has an adamant nature," the girl goes on, "and that will make her attack really strong."

"Hey," I say. I speak too quietly and they don't hear, but instead of walking away it makes me angry. Like, I'm standing there, and they're just talking and laughing and not noticing me, and somehow it gets me mad and I say, louder, "Hey!"

The girl turns. "Is someone? Oh, hey. Uh."

"Wanta battle," I say.

"Sure." Her confused look turns eager. "Yeah, we'd love to."

"Clear off," one of her friends shouts. "Gonna have a battle." A loose crowd gathers around us and the area clears.

"Let’s go, Haya!" she says, throwing the pokeball high into the air. "Oh, and I'm Sakurako, but you can just call me Sara for short. I don't think I got your name—?"

"Lena," I say. "Uh."

I don’t know her pokemon. It’s small and squat and first it doesn’t look so tough, but then it sucks in a big breath and flames burst up from its back. I start to chew on my lip. There aren’t any fire pokemon in the sewers.

“Come out, Champ,” I say softly. He looks at the fire and then at me, his ears twitching back. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

“Start strong, Haya! Use your flame wheel!”

There’s no time. Champ and I stare transfixed as a ball of fire shoots towards us. All Champ's attacks just rush out of my head. At the last moment Champ darts to the side, eyes wide and wild. I know I should call an attack now, but I'm too fraidy. What if it bursts into flame again? Then Champ'll get burned.

Sara waits a few seconds for me to respond, but when I don't she gives half shrug and says, "Ember."

This time the fire flies. "D-dodge," I say. "Uh. Go by a tree."

She won't send the fire by the tree, right?

"Tackle it," she says, pushing back her bangs.

"Quick move," I say, a bit more steady. "Then bite it." My voice goes up a little high on the word "bite." I half-notice that I've got my nails pressing too hard into my palms.

Champ's in the air when she says, "Smog" and then Champ's in a dark cloud of smoke, coughing and coughing.

"Finish with flame wheel," she says and this time the fire ball hits Champ straight on and sends him back a few feet, into the grass. He doesn't get up.

"Champ!" I say. "Champ, Champ, Champ."

At his side, I can see that he's not badly hurt, just singed and weak.

"Got any more pokemon?" Sara asks.

"No.”

"Oh. Then, good battle!" She walks over and smiles at us. "Your rattatta's a fast little guy. Better get him to the pokecenter, though." When she holds out her hand I count out some poke into it, the least I think I can give. She gives me a bright smile and walks away with her friends.

I blink after her for a moment, because she's nice.

But I think I hate her. I hate them, the other kids who are turning back to their talk about winning the league, the hobbyists who smile when they give up their poke, the way they all smile when they lose, like losing is okay, like it's a game.

"It's not a game to me," I tell nobody. Then I put Champ in the pokeball and take off for the poke center at a run.

 

[windskull]

I must say. Lena has top-quality taste in pokemon. Rattata is a top quality pokemon. I'd even argue it's in the top percentage of all pokemon 8P

Really though, I genuinely have a soft spot for most of the early game rodents, especially rattata and bidoof. Which is what initially drew me into checking out this fic. I've read all chapters posted on tr thus far, and will be giving initial impressions of Lena as a character and the story thus far.

Lena legitimately makes my heart ache. The prose makes it very clear that she's still young and clueless about some things about the world. But at the same time she's all too familiar with the rougher parts of the world that you don't expect a child to understand, but is all too familiar for children in a financial situation like hers. And she makes it quite clear that she understands just how precarious the situation is, and how easy it would be for her family to lose what little they have. With that in mind, this is definitely a story that I have to be in the right mindset to read, since I have a feeling could get a bit heavy at times.

At least the pokemon universe has a degree of welfare for trainers, with pokemon centers providing shelter and food for trainers on the road. Ironically, it almost feels like she's got better security on the road than she does staying at home. I wonder if that's intentional on your part. I also wonder if there are caveats to that security, like if she could get in trouble for staying at one center for too long or something like that. It also has me curious what kind of general welfare and social safety nets this version of the pokemon world has.

You mention in your authors notes that the prose of the early chapters that the prose is written in a relatively simple style to match the age and inexperience of Lena, and I think that comes through. It reminds me a bit of the prose style in... I think it was the Junie B Jones books? I can't remember a lot of the writing from those books, but the bit that I do matches well with what you've written.

One thing that I thought was a little odd was the fact that she struggled with reading. I can absolutely buy that school is very limited for children in the pokemon world and that most kids only get a basic education, but I feel like reading of all things would be something that would be given heavy focus since it's one of the most fundamental skills needed for just about any job. On the other hand, she is ten, and I also know that children in low-income communities tend to be behind on reading and other acedemic skills in general due to lack of resources, so maybe that's the explanation here.

One typo I want to point out before I wrap this up:

Champ and I breath, but the purloin doesn't get up.

Breath should be breathe, unless this is an intentional typo to exemplify Lena's age.

Overall I like what I've read thus far, and would definitely be interested in reading more of this fic in the future. In general I find it an interesting read. It facinates me seeing the worldbuilding for this trainerverse and seeing how the world helps some people while leaving behind others. All that said, I'll be wrapping up my review here. Until next time.

 

[bluesidra]

Hello! I am so in love with this story! It is sad and sweet and makes me feel all kinds of feels. Boot’s cover-art is amazing. Nothing would fit this better than her style. I’m currently caught up as far as TR goes and pls moar, yes! I’ve taken a gander at the ffn entry. 36 chapters? Wow!

I love Lena’s narrative style, especially in the first few chapters. You mentioned that the style grows with her, and I think it already shows by chapter four. Her sentences are longer and the mental bridges a bit wider, and there are some city descriptions that are waaay out there.

Lena truly feels like a 10year old. The canonical starting age and the actions and decisions we actually make in game have always bothered me. We laugh a lot about adults being cast in teen dramas, to a point where a twenty-sth-year-old looks completely natural in a highschool-setting. But I think we make 10year olds even more mature in popular media. They are kiddies. Before corona, I took the bus to work, and there were a few kids that already went to secondary school. Which makes them 12 or older. And they were so young and small, I can still see them being lifted up by their parents.

So it’s really refreshing to see the pov of an actual child. And her wide-eyed inexperience shines through, a lot.

Another big like is the worldbuilding. It is… interesting, but also uncomfortable, as it should be. The sad thing is, Lena’s family are not homeless, just below poverty-level, as far as I read it. Which isn’t such an uncommon thing, especially in big cities. The parents “only” have one job each, which often isn’t enough in the states. And seeing how we start out in Castelia, I assume the fic takes after the American model.

My only question regarding Lena’s situation is why she hangs out in the sewers? (I generally don’t get why people hang out in the sewers, but in BW I assumed pokemon-logic) There’s gotta be better places for school-dropouts to hang out. The sewers aren’t even that “lucrative”, like, you can’t get into the good graces of shop-owners who might gift you sth or pick up some stuff that other people dropped. I know there are these really fascinating communes in sewers and abandoned railway-stations in cities with a really high homeless population, but Lena isn’t in one of those communities.

Lena herself is adorable! Especially in the first two chapters (I’ll get to the other few in a minute). Her most striking virtue is gratefulness. Sammy told her she’s a whiner, but she is clearly not. She appreciates every small gesture, every little bit of her belongings and especially Champ. And she is also very caring of others (pokemon). She is considerate enough to leave food for the pokemon she and Champ defeated, so they don’t have to starve because of their training.

Champ himself is a very expressive little critter, and I love how perceptive Lena is about his different movements and his language.

Her parents and her best friend, despite being hesitant at first, believe in her and support her. Good parents? In a pokemon fanfic? I must have misread it! But no. Both of them react very maturely in a way that parents usually react (talking among themselves etc.) But despite, or maybe even because of their support, they unknowingly place a lot of pressure on Lena, which I think is going to be the main thing that holds her back. Her mom tells her that her “job” is to be a good trainer, and oh boy, does Lena take that to heart. But I love that in all this, Lena is a child, who cries and is distracted and plays with Champ and falls asleep between her parents.

When she left Castelia is when I noticed that she had some not so nice traits, and, funnily enough, I started calling myself out for calling her out. Because she’s ranked higher on the invisible disadvantaged scale (which is 1/privilege points), and therefore I don’t feel like I have the right to criticize her. Which is not how this should go, I get that, but somehow, my brain gremlins tell me that.

So. As nice as Lena is to pokemon, she is incredibly dismissive to other people. She mostly regards them as stupid if they aren’t super serious. She keeps to herself a lot and always draws an invisible circle of twisted superiority and hurt pride around herself.

(As I’m typing this, I realize that she’s a child, and I’m suddenly way less angry with her. I remember how incredibly important everything felt to me when I was that age, even if it was just putting on dad’s sweatpants.)

But she is also incredibly insecure. It is almost painful to watch her in Nimbasa, always telling herself to keep her head low and not stick out or be seen. Which, okay, I can imagine the reasoning for it, but so far, the narrative hasn’t given me a reason for why she acts so much like a beaten puppy (for a lack of better words).

One thing I figured out was that she always feels like everybody in the room is judging her for her social status and/or appearance. Because she is “different”. But the sad thing is, none of the people she had met so far had done anything like that. They might judge her because she is intentionally keeping to herself and acting like she is “better” than them (again, in a very twisted sense), but not because she is poor.

Maybe that is why she is so much more loving towards pokemon? Because she feels like they don’t judge her as much. But no one can tell me that she has never seen a Stoutland that is just as snobby as their owner. Or any feline.

She is very on the fence about any person being moderately nice to her, which is heartbreaking. And I kinda wanna scold her for that, but I know that I would act exactly the same if I was in a homeless community. Or in the community of people I don’t know in general. She is simply in an unfamiliar setting, and that is disturbing, to a child even more than to an adult.

But that raises the question why all the other kids her age do have that confidence. Maybe they are just on the road a little longer and know how things go. But I can’t shake the thought about how that huuuuuge inferiority complex got into her. Her parents seem loving, but I can totally picture them setting that seed of “we are different, we are less” in her brain. And of course the people that call her pest aren’t helping either. Though I would like to see that firsthand in the fic.

So, such a lovely read! Pls moar!!!

Spoiler: Linequotes

but they call me a pest too.

Ouch! Would like to see that, though. Like, I can imagine they were begging or stealing in the streets, at a time when she should have been in school, but I don't know anything of her daily routine outside training with Champ.

"Reshiram knows, you've seen more bad weather than most of the brats out there," Dad adds.

Ah, that's where the "we are different"-mindset comes from. Thank you, Dad. Putting other kids down in front of your own child for their social status. Can't see that going wrong.

She and Dad sit on the ground next to me.

He makes a show of crossing his legs and leaning forward.

There is an continuity error, if I picture it right. Like, I imagine him crossing legs while sitting on a chair, but before it was clear that they are on the ground. Which begs the question, why they are sitting on the ground. They have a dinner-table, that has been established. The same room has their sleeping-places and if room allows it, below poverty level folks usually have some sort of couch. And if the dad has issues with his back, he probably isn't doing it any favours here.

I eat it all though, cause Mom told me to never waste my food, and I shouldn't, not even here.

Aaaargh! My biggest trigger that is not a trigger at all!
No! Do not teach your kids that! It is so wrong! That was maybe right after the War, but now we live in a society of surplus. A normal meal has way more calories that needed, especially the "cheap" options. This mindset has lead so many people into obesity, especially in the 30-40 year bracket. And with the even younger folks, it just leads to guilt. God damn, I've been sitting in the hospital's cafeteria and crying because I was feeling sick but still had food on my plate. And the worst part is -- a lot of the other patients understood!
If you're full, you're full! You and your wellbeing are worth more than the food on your plate! If you took too much, take less next time or save it for later, but don't feel obligated to finish your meal!
And yes, Lena is poor and they can't afford food. This is pokemon worldbuilding after all, I can accept that. But the sad thing is, that yes, there are children in western countries, that have to go to school hungry, but they are not malnourished. They just eat the wrong food -- food that doesn't make you feel full, but gives you way too many calories. It's the easiest trick ever to get you to eat more of the food, after all. You are still hungry, but the caveman-part of the brain frolics in the amount of calories it just got. So double the incentive to buy the same food again, and at the end of the day, Nestle laughs and the NHS gets to deal with the consequences.
So, mini-rant over. ... ... I have a thing about nutrition.

"Good." The lady nods like my manners are somehow her doing. "You'll go far, child, if you mind your etiquette."

1) very smart observation from a child
2) urgh... old people

Once I got loopy as a spinda off some candy I scrounged and I just started dancing in the streets with the weird dancing boys.

:espurrstare:

 

[Persephone]

Chapter 1

"I do my best to help out, but I'm not strong enough or old enough to be worth hiring yet, so I mostly hang around in the sewers."

Poke-CPS is the CP-best.

Jacket love is very relatable. Already one of the best protagonists on this site.

"Mom says it's the pollution."

Where's the Unova Department of Environmental Management at? Are all their employees still in training?

Just from the name's paragraph Champ is precious. I would die and kill for him. And training so you're stronger than all the other rattata sounds unrealistic. Should just aim to be in the top 1% of rattata.

Chapter 2

No! Keep beating up the weakling rattata! That's how you EV grind! Gods, what a noob.

A journey fic? In Spring? You really aren't trying to hide your alt anymore are you, WildBoots?

Honestly having actual poverty in the pokemon world is a novel spin. Sure, a lot of underdog protagonists are poor, but actually getting resources never seems to be a real struggle. It's cool that this is a fic sort of devoted to exploring that through the most upbeat lens possible. And I'm sure that Champ's fur is very, very soft.

Chapter 3

She said earlier that she found an Ultra Ball worth $300. How is $120 more than she's ever earned in a single day?

Ah, so Lena has already discovered that camping is a legitimate strategy. I suppose it was inevitable for a Boots protagonist since you love camping so much.

Colorful people are terrible. The audacity. Pretending they aren't all depressed. The musings on rattata language are cool, even if Lena doesn't really explain them well to the reader.

Chapter 4

I can definitely relate to people being almost too nice. What are they hiding? What's their agenda?

Poor Lena re:feeling dirty. But it's a pokemon center. Dirty people are probably the norm.

So literacy at age ten isn't the greatest and school isn't enforced. I guess that makes sense, since Poke-CPS are CP-best and everything. Kind of surprised that at least schooling up to age ten wasn't strictly required since that's about all they can expect people to get.

Hmm. Fantasy food for the poor. Fascinating. Sounds, um, delicious?


Chapter 5

I will not abide this purrloin slander. They are best frens who deserve all the food. Humans are monsters for withholding it. And using an oran berry for size comparison is interesting since IRL berries tend to vary a bit in size. Loopy as a spinda is an excellent phrase. I like that it isn't a 1-1 analogue and instead builds on the actual lore of the world. And the performance anxiety battle is a little heartbreaking, seeing how people react to Lena socially and in combat.


I really like this fic. Good analysis of class without directly talking about it most of the time. Feels like you took a random Route 1 trainer and made them the most interesting character in the story. And Champ is precious. And strong. Raticate's actually pretty good early game, too. Honestly tempted to do a BW2 challenge to see how far I could go with only a rattata now. Just to dunk on a fictional ten-year-old.

Lena feels realistic for her age. Not overly childish or enthusiastic but there's a lot she doesn't know. The things she does / doesn't worry about also track. She doesn't care quite as much about what people think about her as an older kid but still grasps the basics of things. The literacy still comes back to me as a part of the worldbuilding that I'm not entirely sure tracks. Education above the age of ten being optional makes sense. Also it sounds like school revolves heavily on trainer prep with learning about different types of pokemon. Ironically having gone more might've helped her out a lot right now. Especially in knowing how to deal with fire-types and the like.

I hope you keep crossposting. Is good fic.

crosspost theogony and darkrai poetry you coward

 

[Pen]

Spoiler: Reviews

@windskull @bluesidra @Persephone I did not expect all these day one reviews, lmao. In the whirlwind of Blitz it might be a while before I can make specific review responses but I really appreciate you taking the time to review here!

One quick clarification, though: Lena isn't illiterate. She can read, but she hasn't done much of it and she finds it difficult, particularly when the vocab is at a higher level.

I'm waiting on a bench for Champ to feel better. Nurse Joy gave me an info pamphlet the first time I brought Champ in and eventually I read it all. The pokecenters have a machine that works just like a full restore. It can heal any pokemon in an instant. The pamphlet said they prefer not to use it because it's bad for the pokemon's "overall health," but I think it just would cost too much if they used it for everyone, even not-real trainers like me.

Champ won't be healed enough for a few hours, since he fainted in the battle, and then we aren't 'sposed to battle again for 24 hours after a feint. I don't think many trainers follow that rule, though.

I sit on the bench and hope that no one looks at me. Champ's not here and without him I feel like an outsider. I keep thinking someone's going to see that I'm a fake now that I don't have a pokemon next to me. I'm not a trainer. I'm just here.

There's another trainer waiting alone on the bench opposite me. He's been playing on his pokegear the last hour, but now he's started to look up. Sometimes his gaze lands on me for a bit and when it does I try really hard not to be looking at him, which is tough, because there's nothing else to look at besides the walls.

Looking down too long feels like hiding, though, so I poke my head up like I've been down in the sewers all day and need a breath of fresh air. When I do, he looks up too. There's a long moment where we stare at each other and then I try and pretend I'm looking past his ear at the wall.

He swallows and he's going to say something, he's going to say something.

"Um, hi."

"Hi," I say, like the word is something I can squeeze into a ball and make small.

"You, uh, waiting for your, uh, pokemon?"

"Yeah," I say. I edge my lips up into a smile.

Quickly, he smiles back, and I notice that he's suddenly sitting looser. "Me too. It's my riolu. She lost pretty badly. It was a pidove. A mean pidove. I guess they're fierce." He sort of laughs, but not like it's funny.

"A riolu?" I say, keeping my eyes fixed forward.

"Yeah. Um, they're native to Sinnoh, guess most people here haven't heard of them. Riolu's a fighting type. I call her Athena. She's my starter―my parents bought her from a breeder. She's a bold nature, apparently." He shuts his mouth fast, like his words were a flock of pidoves escaping his mouth.

"I'm waiting for Champ," I say. "He's my rattata."

The boy frowns a bit. "A rattata? Aren't they diseased?"

"No!" I say, too loud. "Don't be dumb―Nurse Joy checks."

Then I shut my mouth fast too, because I was mean.

But part of me still goes on thinking, Champ's not sick and he's not dirty and why don't people all shut up. I want to tuck my head between my knees and cover my ears with my hands. The shininess of the pokemon center, the low humming of the machines, the swish of the door opening and closing―it's all too different and I don't want to be here.

"Sorry," the boy says. "Of course your rattata's not sick. I'm sorry, I don't know too much about wild pokemon. It was a stupid thing to think."

"Sorry," I say. "You're not stupid." I hope he'll stop talking or I hope the nurse will come out and tell me Champ is all better.

"I am, though!" His loudness surprises me. He's putting down his pokegear and leaning forward. "Honestly, I don't know the first thing about being a trainer! I'm a wreck at this. I― " He runs a hand through his limp blond hair. "I didn't even want to do this!"

I don't really care what he's talking about, because it's been a half hour now and Champ is hurt.

"Why are you doing it, then?" I say.

His face crumples. "My parents," he says. "It's like a family tradition. Go out, be a trainer, get enough badges so you won't be a failure, come home and run the business. But at this rate I won't even get one!"

I'm not sure what to say next.

Probably because I'm quiet, he leans away and says, "Sorry for just dumping that on you. It's just on my mind a lot. Uh, so what are your goals? Beating the league, right?"

"No," I say.

His face re-crumples a bit. "Oh, sorry. Uh, I know I'm saying that an awful lot. I shouldn't have assumed again. Just, most people are out to beat the league. So what is it, then?"

I freeze my face as I try and think. I don't think I'm allowed to say I want to make money. No one else says that. "I don't know," I say. "I'm just training. Um. To get stronger?"

I'm relieved when he nods, like that's an okay answer. "I get that," he says. "Cool. That's a better goal than mine."

I should say thank you, but I lied, so I can't really say thanks. When I say nothing for a long time, the silence gets heavy. He starts messing with his pokegear again. I look back at my pamphlet. It's all soft and crumpled because I keep rolling the edges up and back. Soon I think I'll see the words in my head when I fall asleep at night.

I don't like sleeping at the pokecenter. The room is too empty and the sounds are wrong. At night I roll around in the bed trying to sleep until finally I'm too tired to move. Then Champ nestles in beside me and I curl up around him. That part’s nice, at least.

I stand up real quick when Champ's brought out. I'm thinking that if I hadn't been so slow and fraidy he wouldn't have been burnt, and that I'm going to cuddle him real close tonight.

 

[Pen]

Everything's wrong today. At breakfast the food tastes lumpy and weird in my mouth. I just push it around and around on my plate, until Champ starts to lick it up.

"Don't do that." I say. My voice comes out all spiky. "You'll get sick, you stupid fur-ball."

"Ta-rat," he says, backing away. He curls up beside my pack instead.

Sorry, I think, but I'm suddenly so mad. Champ looks tiny and silly curled up. I duck my head lower over my plate. The cafeteria is too loud, all those voices buzzing around like beedrill, about to attack. They all think Champ is silly, I think. They think Champ is weak.

He is.

The thought is like Sammy when she sneaks up behind me and puts her hands over my eyes. Champ's nothing like those pokemon on the movie posters, big and tough―I'm nothing like those trainers, the real ones who flip their pokeballs and call out commands sure and fast.

Well, good. I don't need to be.

Only, I don't want to feel so weak and like a cheater. Only it's not fair that Champ's small and common. It's not fair that I want to hide when the real trainers are around.

Champ has crept back over. He butts his nose into my arm. "Rat-tat?" he asks.

I shrug him off. "Nothing, stupid." Again the words come out louder than I mean, and sharper. Sorry, I think again, soft in my head where he can't hear it.

My plate's almost clean. I shove a last forkful into my mouth and stand abruptly to bring up my plate. I think Champ's following, but I can't hear his steps over the din of the cafeteria. Stupid tiny feet, I think spitefully.

Everything pricks at me. When Nurse Joy wishes me good morning I almost almost tell her shut-up. Outside the sun is too bright for the long pants and long shirt I'm wearing. Just waking down to the training area, my clothes get sticky fast. The other trainers are wearing tees and shorts. One girl has a yellow skirt that flutters like beautifly taking off. It's so, so pretty and even that makes me feel mad.

Champ and I go to our usual place, but when I look for a stone for practicing, I can't find a good one. They're all too small and stupid. I'm holding one of the small stones when Champ says, "Rat-ratta-tat tat-tat-ra."

I recognize my name in that, but not the rest. My eyes feel all hot and stingy. I'm too warm all over and I can feel the sweat on the back of my neck. Suddenly, I whip around and throw the stone at Champ. It hits his teeth with a clink and drops to the ground. He looks up at me, confused―upset―betrayed.

Slowly, I sink to the ground and start to cry. My tears come harsh and choked. I want to scream or I want to hug Mom, but I don't want the other trainers to see me. I tuck my legs up to my chest and press my face down. The tears streak out of my eyes, hot and wet.

I'm not sure how long I sit there, but the tears come slower and I start to notice how the grass is bent under my feet and how the sun is still beating on my neck. I edge out a hand and pull up blades of grass.

Where's Champ?

More than anything, I want him to be pressed up by my side, so that I can stroke his fur. I start to look around the clearing, blinking. At first my head feels rusty, like I haven't moved in days. Everything is heavy―my arms, my legs, my face.

"Champ?" I say.

I close my eyes to listen, but I don't hear anything besides the far-off yells of the other trainers.

"Champ?" I say again.

The silence is so loud.

Panic shoots through me. I'm on my feet again, quicker than a scyther.

"Champ," I say. "Champ? Champ!" I can hear my heart thumping. "Please Champ, are you there?"

I wipe my face quick, two clumsy swipes. There's just trees around me, and the sound of trainers battling in the distance. I run from tree to tree, but I can't find the purple of Champ's fur. And then all the bubbly panic drains out of me and I just feel so empty and tired. "Champ?"

He's left me, 'cause I'm a stupid-head, and mean. And now I'm alone.

"Sorry Champ. Sorry. Sorry."

Maybe he went back to the pokemon center. Maybe he's left and he's not coming back. Maybe he's lost. Maybe he's hurt. Maybe he's trying to find the way home and he doesn't know the way.

I walk slowly out into the field where the other trainers are. A guy is giving his starley a treat. The starly's pecking at his hair so maybe he won't be mean. I don't want to go near him, cause I don't know him and I don't have Champ―but I don't have Champ―so I step up and say, with all the etiquette I can, "Excuse me, have you seen a rattata?"

He looks up. "Yeah, I think so. Five, ten minutes ago, I think one went by."

"Which way do you know?" I say all in a jumble.

He thinks a bit. "Sorry, I don't remember which way it went." Then he smiles at me.

I smile back at him quick because I have to and then run before he can ask me anything.

My head only says, Champ!

---

When I was tiny, Mom used to tell me a story.

Moltres was out flying. The sun was bright and he felt very happy. As he flew, he let out a huge burst of fire. But that fire caught on the trees below and spread. It burnt the nearby village's berry patch before they could put it out.

When Moltres realized what had happened, he was horrified. He wanted the people to forgive him, but when his shadow passed over them they called to their water pokemon. Moltres thought of the children crying over the lost berries and felt ashamed. So he did the only thing he could―he went to a secret island, known only to pokemon. It was always early spring there, with budding flowers and sweet clear skies.

This was the home of Mew.

Moltres landed on the island and tucked in his wings. "Mew," he called out, "I've done something terrible and I don't know what to do!"

"What have you done?" Mew said, appearing in front of him.

Moltres told her.

"Oh," she said, "that is a very terrible thing. Why have you come here?"

"I didn't mean for it to happen, Mew. But I don't know how to get the people to forgive me―they run away when I fly close."

"I can help you," Mew said, "but you must do one thing for me first"

"Anything!" said Moltres quickly. He was one of the mightiest pokemon to take wing. Whatever task Mew gave him would not be hard for him to complete.

"Find me the hardest word, and I'll tell you how to solve your problem" Mew said.

The hardest word? Moltres was confused.

"Go on then," Mew said. "Unless you want to stay and play a game!'

Moltres shook his head hastily. Mew's games could last centuries. "I will find you that word," he promised.

Moltres flew all around the land. He flew during the night, so that he would not scare anyone. He was careful not to flame. He heard all sorts of words and many of them seemed to him hard.

But every time he went to Mew with a word, she would shake her head.

"That's not right," she said. "That's not the word I'm looking for."

Finally, Moltres could take it no longer. He had flown until even his great wings grew sore. The destruction that he had caused still haunted him―and now he could not even complete Mew's task. One fine day, he landed on Mew's island. She appeared, smiling, but her smile fell when she saw his expression.

"What's wrong, Moltres?"

Moltres hung his head. "I can't do it, Mew. I can't find the hardest word." He dipped his head down further, and said the only thing he could say to fill up the silence. "I'm sorry."

Head bowed, he waited for Mew's reaction.

She laughed. "What are you talking about, silly?" she said. "You just gave it to me."

What? Moltres looked up at Mew.

She spun a circle. "Sorry," she said. "The hardest word is sorry. And if you want the people you hurt to forgive you, you must start by giving them the hardest word."

"Sorry isn't the hardest word," I had said to Mom when she told me that story the first time. "There are lots of harder words. Like regigigas. And unemployment. I say sorry all the time. Like when I spilled Sammy's drink on her yesterday. Or when I didn't set the table."

"Ah," Mom said. "But when you've done something truly wrong, I think you'll understand what Mew meant."

As I walk towards Champ, I think that Mom's right. Saying sorry was saying you were wrong―and saying you were wrong meant you might not be forgiven.

"Hey Champ."

He looks at me, but says nothing, measuring the distance between us with his eyes.

I take a deep breath, and say the hardest word.

---

Spoiler: a/n

The story Lena's mom tells is based on The Hardest Word by Jacqueline Jules. If you enjoyed it, you should also check out the wizard's word by kintsugi!

 

[Persephone]

Chapter Six

Healing machines or harming machines? More on Newsnight With Famousguy Newsman.



Yeah trainers not following the 24 hour rule seems realistic. I’m sure it’s fine. Pokémon can’t get CTE or anything. And if they can then the incidence is exaggerated. And if it’s not then it’s not really a big deal. And if it is then we will sue to keep it quiet. This has been a message from your local Pokémon League.



Oh my gods Lena has found an equally awkward friend, albeit one with an ultra rare starter. Will this be friendship? Rivalry? Or, perhaps, the start of a beautiful hatred?



Natures are a thing here that apparently affect stats. Feels a little too gamey for me. Of course personality can affect battle, but I don’t think it would just be the set percentages and easy categories that are seen here.



Oh wow. New boy is incompetent and doesn’t want to be here, compared to Lena who is incompetent and does. An English professor might start talking about foils, even though there’s no aluminum in sight.



Awww. Go cuddle the burn victim. That’s definitely something that will make them feel better.



Chapter Seven



Oh no is sad Lena. And sad Lena is mad at Champ. What’s next, she’ll be mad at jacket? An outrage.



Oh no. Oh no no no no no. Do not throw stones at unprepared Rattata. What a monster. Cancelled forever. Get her out of this fic, I only want perfectly moral characters to read about.



I think it’s spelled starly, not starley?



Is this the inspiration for a wizard’s word, then? Moltres and Mew and very bad things? I really liked the anecdote.

It’s still weird that she told Champ “unemployment” tho.

On a more serious note, being able to actually apologize would solve like 80% of real and fictional conflicts. A v good skill. Proud of Lena, even if she’s a cancelled monster.

 

[kyeugh]

chapters 1–3
hi pen! i was really happy to see you posting this on TR, i've heard great things about it. these chapters are kind of bite-sized, so i'm going to review them in chunks rather than per-chapter, if that's ok.

i don't think i've read a journey fic like this before, where the protagonist is truly coming up from nothing. (i plan on writing a similar story myself in the future, so i'm certainly taking notes!) in a way, this is a story that's told in terms of its contrasts. lena wants to be a successful trainer, but she doesn't have the advantages other trainers do, and doesn't take anything from granted. there's nothing inherently interesting about a ratatta taking down a blitzle—and in fact you mostly skip over the actual battle—but it is special here because we know the differences between lena and the trainer she's facing. jerome has more stuff crammed into his backpack than lena's owned in her entire life, and he's affluent enough that this thing that lena is clinging onto in the hopes of a better life is something he can participate in for fun as a side hobby while focusing on a different, non-productive/unprofitable hobby (backpacking).

the exploration of her impoverished background is just generally well-done and feels real and impactful without being on the nose. it's a perspective that seems simple, but it takes components that are so core to the fic genre as to be trite (pokémon battles, grinding against random wilds) and makes them exciting character moments. i especially enjoyed her relationship with her parents. they seem genuinely loving and supportive. also appreciated her relationships with her possessions; a jacket and a watch might not seem like much to people who have never wanted for them, but they can go a really long way and i felt that here. very much appreciated that you didn't go into painstaking detail about it unlike a certain novel about names and wind

i also felt you did a great job skipping the stuff that we don't need to see. describing the battle with sandile was good because it showed lena's feelings about battling outside the city for the first time, and her bewilderment at seeing an elemental pokémon attack. but we don't need to see exactly how the blitzle battle played out for the consequences of it to be impactful. in general i feel this fic feels very tightly and deliberately-written, which is something i've come to associate with your writing by now but is no less impressive for it.

the narration is a lot of fun and i'm enjoying lena's very personal (and somewhat childish) voice. i was a little surprised by it when i first started reading but i think it's an appropriate fit and i'm curious to see how it'll develop with time. she's got a ton of personality and the way perceives things just feels very sweet and earnest; it's super evident just from the way she sees the world around her that she is a fundamentally good person.

i'm not really sure what to expect going forward. lena did seem to get a bit caught up in her victory and forgot champ for a moment, and i'm sure she'll be catching some more pokémon soon. if i had to guess i'd say maybe they start to drift a little and champ feels betrayed. maybe she catches a pokémon that's just naturally more powerful and champ feels jealous.

i'll be back before the end of blitz—excited to get into more!

Spoiler: line comments

If people start looking at you funny, nothing good comes of it. They don't want scum on the streets.

there's a lot of sad stuff packed into the early parts of the fic here but this part especially jumped out at me.

I love my jacket more than almost anything else ever.

love this detail, it hit home. i remember being super attached to my jacket as a kid, it was way too big for me when i got it so i could grow into it and i wore it until it was full of holes.

The sky here always looks gray. Mom says it's the pollution.

the fact that she only doesn't really know what a blue sky looks like was surprising to me and felt possibly a little on the nose.

Everyone says rattata are pests, but they call me a pest too. I think Champ's amazing.

😭

Recently I got an idea, though. After Champ beats a weak rattata, I give it enough food to get its strength back.

omg. lena found the mfing xp fountain.

The gate guard gives us a suspicious look as we leave the city, but we ignore him.

i'm curious about the "gate guard"! interesting piece of wb

The sandile stirs a bit, and I realize I haven't given it any food like I usually do after we win. I almost don't want to, because it gave me such a scare with the sand. But then I think I'm being stupid. If I spent more time here, I'd probably know all about the sand. So I stick some food close to sandile, but not too close.

this is really sweet and says a lot about lena. she's someone who cares a lot about the wellbeing of every pokémon she encounters and wants the best for them. i expect she's going to be in for a rude awakening once she properly sets out on her journey and sees the way other trainers behave and treat their pokémon.

I stick my tongue out at her. Then I realize I'm acting like a kid, not a trainer, so I try to look stern or something.

so good.

Mom and Dad exchange a Look.

loving the capital L here.

"But Lena," Mom continues. "It's clear to me you love Champ. You may love being a trainer. And if you find something you love, nothing will make us happier."

"We're proud of you now," Dad says. "We'll always stay proud of you, no matter how this works out."

love to see some good supportive parents... 🥺

"Well, it started in the sewers," I begin

as all good things do.

There's the other sewer kids, those funny dancers I used to tease, that crazy guy who hangs out in our alley who I think sells drugs, but he always liked Champ so I liked him

this detail jumped out at me the first time i read it. it says a lot that she has enough awareness to suspect someone of being a drug dealer at ten and also that she doesn't care, because he's always treated her well. she definitely feels like someone who sees others as she'd like to be seen: for who they are and how they treat others, rather than their backgrounds and situations.

They have a buffet, that's what Sammy said. You get a tray and go up, and take whatever you want. And you can come back for more, all free!

that's gotta be life-changing. i hope they have a soft serve dispenser.

I didn't think I'd be so fraidy about it.

loving "fraidy" lol

"It's just that I've had an idea, Champ. You beat that blitzle so easy because it was already weakened, right? And that was because it had already fought. And, well, these routes have lots of trainers. So I bet trainers are always fighting trainers. So what if we waited till one trainer fought another and left them weak, and then we would fight then, and then we'd win every time!"

omg. beware the junior trainer to route npc pipeline. i'm not sure if your intention was to explain route npc behavior here but it actually works so well and i love it.

a scruffy-looking starley,

* starly

They don't wear gray suits like the business people back home or the pieced-together greyish clothes of everyone else, but bright pinks and blues and yellows.

really nice detail.

I wonder⁠—if Champ was in the pokeball and something crushed it, would Champ die?

i also wonder this!

I remind myself that Champ's already braved the pokeball, and so I can be brave too.

their partnership is really refreshing. despite the sorta socially-enforced disbalance of power—champ is the one in the ball—their relationship really feels as much like one of equals as it can.

 

[bluesidra]

Spoiler: Chapter Six

Oh... two kids that are too shy to talk. This is a really sad scene. Lena is waiting for Champ to get better, and her nerves are slowly giving away. She's uncomfortable in this new environment, her friend is away and hurt, and she feels like it is her fault.

The pamphlet said they prefer not to use it because it's bad for the pokemon's "overall health," but I think it just would cost too much if they used it for everyone, even not-real trainers like me.

There's so much to unpack here: Is there something about the "overall health" thing? That sounds interesting. ((If yes, I think I've been killing my pokemon faster than if I threw them into a grinder.))
And why does Lena suddenly think she's not a real trainer? She has a pokemon, a pokeball and a trainer's license. And also a good amount of victories under her belt.
I guess she feels like she doesn't belong in this shiny world so far away from her family. And the gravity of the situation with Champ sure doesn't help.

"No!" I say, too loud. "Don't be dumb―Nurse Joy checks."

Then I shut my mouth fast too, because I was mean.

Oh Lena. That was not mean.

His face crumples. "My parents," he says. "It's like a family tradition. Go out, be a trainer, get enough badges so you won't be a failure, come home and run the business. But at this rate I won't even get one!"

I'm not sure what to say next.

Probably because I'm quiet, he leans away and says, "Sorry for just dumping that on you. It's just on my mind a lot.

I feel so bad for this kid. He is so incredibly timid. I think him and Lena have a lot in common and I lowkey hope they meet again sometime. Though, seeing as this is based on the US and not Japan, I'm kinda worried about this kid. He apologises so much, often just for saying something or generally taking up space. The kids I know don't act like this. He seems to get a lot of flack from his parents, and no ten year old should know to use the word "failure" for a human. I strongly suspect a lot of verbal abuse going on in his home, if not physical. These are not the signs of just too much expectation on a kid. Poor guy...

Spoiler: Chapter Seven

Heck??? Am I going crazy? How many birds have to learn the hardest word this week? First Lita and now Moltres? I double-check. No, I'm not crazy :D
Confusion aside, it's nice to see another take on a story. I've read The Wizard's Word in prep for the Blitz and when I skimmed over this chapter three days later, I was bamboozled. But I like your take as well.
Lena is not doing well here. Things are too much, all the stress of the last days builds up, and she lets out her frustration on Champ. She snaps at him and finally even throws a pebble at him. After that, he leaves her be. When Lena discovers he is gone, she panics.
I like that. Lena is again very childlike. Her 10 year hormones probably don't help there either, she's feeling physically and mentally awful. Her lashing out is normal, but she learns in a very effective way that she can't lash out whenever she wants. I love your writing and Lena so much <3

Moltres shook his head hastily. Mew's games could last centuries. "I will find you that word," he promised.

Even Moltres is tired of Mew's shit.

"Sorry isn't the hardest word," I had said to Mom when she told me that story the first time. "There are lots of harder words. Like regigigas. And unemployment. I say sorry all the time. Like when I spilled Sammy's drink on her yesterday. Or when I didn't set the table."

Ooooh... Unemployment is a pretty hard word, but I doubt it came up in her spelling-bee at school. Sad that she knows words like this. I think I knew about it when I was her age, but only from the news and statistics. I fear she knows what it means when someone experiences it.
And yes, she really says sorry all the time. Maybe a bit too often.

Saying sorry was saying you were wrong―and saying you were wrong meant you might not be forgiven.

Huh. That is a nice spin on the tale that I didn't quite get from The Wizard's Word. I like that a lot!

 

[Chibi Pika]

this is heeeeeckin cute wtf

Okay so story time--I actually read this for the first time before you even joined TR! OSJ had linked to it as a rec at some point and I tore through about half the chapters available, then got distracted by something or other and forgot to return to it. So I'm super glad to get the chance to revisit it now! ^^

I really appreciate how smoothly this story reads. Part of that is of course the child POV, whose narration is very grounded and believable. But also I really appreciate how the prose says exactly what it needs to and no more. You get a ton of mileage out of implying small details about how the worlds works and letting the reader fill in the rest. It's a great case study in how to make a world feel lived-in without dedicating 7379 words to worldbuilding all the time. It's definitely something I've been trying to emulate with my ongoing revision to LC's opening arc. Lena's thought processes are very believable and I enjoy the random small tangents she occasionally goes on when questioning something or other. It's one of the main things that distinguishes preteen from teen, imo.

One thing I didn't notice the first time around was the way that you switched from past tense to present tense when Lena sets off on her journey! It's a great way to make the intro chapters feel like they're setting up for the main event, and being told in retrospect. But the moment her journey starts, suddenly Lena (and the reader) are out in the unknown together. Suddenly this is real, and there's no guarantees about how it will go.

I also appreciate how we didn't really need to see how Lena met Champ--it feels like the story begins exactly when it needs to. We didn't really need to see Lena deciding to follow this goal. She already has Champ and the two of them are gonna prove that they're worth something.

I'd be remiss if I didn't talk about your portrayal of Champ! I really love how much character and personality you manage to pack into his body language and "ratta-tat." It's clear that he's very clever and understands Lena, but he's still got quite a rattish view of things and his understanding of the world is a bit limited. But that doesn't matter because he is determined to stick by his human and get strong with her, and I really love all the little moments in Lena's narration where it's just so obvious that she cares about him, without having to say so outright. Also, I like that she's able to interpret a bit of what he says sometimes! It shows how closely she's paying attention to him.

I also enjoy how fittingly short-sighted Lena's goal is. Become strong, earn money, help her family; that's all well and good, but there's only so far you can go and how much you can earn fighting noob trainers. Eventually they'll have to set their sights higher, and then what? How far will they be able to get before they're forced to contend with a more competitive environment?

Other misc details that I enjoyed:

- The detail Lena gives when describing the few possessions she's very fond of, like her jacket and watch
- Lena parroting Johto-style as the explanation for keeping Champ out of his ball, not really getting it, but hey, if it satisfies the people asking... (she shouldn't need a reason!) :<
- The way Lena gets upset when other people don't mind losing because this isn't supposed to be a game.
- Lena lashing out because she can't handle knowing that others are looking down on her (even when they're not, it's so easy to imagine that they are) and having nowhere to direct it, so she snaps at Champ as much as she doesn't want to because she has no other outlet for what she's feeling and my heart ;-;
- Everything about the story with Mew and Moltres. I really enjoy when legendaries are casually reflected in stories and culture
- As aware as Lena is of the feeling of being judged, there's do denying that she reacts to it by pushing people away before they even get a chance to judge her. They're just playing games, they don't really matter. She's got something really important to do, and she's gonna do it, and everything on her journey is an obstacle. The kid needs a friend who gets her, bad. :<

That's all for now, looking forward to reading more!

 

[unrepentantAuthor]

Hey there! I think this is the first time I've read something of yours, but I'm always so impressed by your contributions in discord and your reviews that I've had high expectations for when I finally get round to doing so. And though this isn't the fic I thought I'd be reading first and it's not my normal reading fare, I really enjoyed what I've read so far! So kudos to you for that~

Before anything else, I think the title page is lovely. Great art in Boots' distinctive and excellent style, really gives a feel for the scruffy ragamuffin vibe of Lena and Champ.

I like this premise, of an impoverished wannabe trainer who simply can't afford the gear a professional trainer needs. I'm not used to thinking of training as having serious economic barriers, and my personal worldbuilding has pokéballs cost the equivalent of less than a couple dollars, but the concept is both intuitive for being a pokémon world take on a perennial theme and for having really excellent delivery of the worldbuilding. The character voice is great for a young kid, and the exposition feels perfectly natural, even conversational, such that the informational flow is unintrusive and an easy read.

Also, it's just plain charming. Even in just the first chapter, it's incredibly easy to root for these little underdogs. I can't help but instantly love Champ, and love the protagonist for loving him. Who hasn't got a doft spot for characters who think each other are great even when everyone else thinks they're vermin and lowlifes? I can't help but think that it won't be as easy to make a living as a trainer as this kid is telling Champ, though. I suspect there'll be some hardship ahead, especially with the offhand but brutal mentions of extreme pollution, casual violence, and economic injustice. And implicit matches to the death in the sewers. Yikes!

The second chapter brings serious training, and makes me love Lena enormously. What a good kid. Feeding defeated opponents, refusing to grind against weak 'mon, caring so much about her parents. She's so sweet and brave and conscientious. I wanna see her do great. I like her little internal refrain to act like a trainer, not a kid, even though she is a kid. My heart breaks a little over stuff like that. But this fic has so much warmth to it, and the scene where Lena's parents approve her journey and give her that watch as a gift made me damn near tear up, especially with that line about being someone important and Champ's boisterously affectionate reaction. It's just the cutest thing ever.

This was a longer chapter, so interestingly it seems the shortest and longest chapter are frontloaded. I think it works okay, it's still really short either way. The first chapter works as a tiny little teaser, like the couple minutes before the opening credits, and the subsequent chapter is a workhorse doing a bunch of establishing shots and setting things up. The pacing seems solid. I'm never bored, but never wishing it would slow down.

Interesting that in chapter three, Lena still thinks of other trainers as different and separate to herself. Perhaps that'll change now she's defeated one in a battle for the first time! And perhaps she'll get less anxious and speak up a little. I think of her as pretty chatty given the conversational tone of the story, so I really noticed when meeting another trainer made her clam right up. I'm proud of her and happy for her victory, and she even has a pretty decent strategy for getting some wins in. She's so focused on victory! I can't help but think how she said that because she needs to do this, she'll succeed. Nice. Hope it doesn't backfire somehow.

I note that she wins a casual $120 and spends half on a ball. I can't tell whether this is so much money to her because she's from such a poor family or whether trainers really are just spectacularly loaded. Would like to have some frame of reference, like how much a little food costs. I also love that brief moment where she's without a 'mon by her side for a moment. It says a lot that having Champ by her side is considered pretty weird by that other trainer, but she does it casually with complete confidence, so that doing otherwise becomes the odd choice. I wonder how she'll treat other team members as she meets them. She hasn't thought about adding anyone to her team, yet! But she'll have to, if she is to succeed. This isn't a hobby for her, right? I can't wait for her to have cute interactions with other 'mon, given how sweet the relationship with Champ is and how much attention she pays to what he wants and means. She's already such a good trainer, bless her.

Chapter four brings plenty to make note of. A first visit to a centre means seeing Lena in a couple of new contexts, in which she's much less confident. She always had a plan and faith in that plan back home, but out here where things are arguably less tough, she's uncertain, she wavers. It breaks my heart that she's so anxious at Nurse Joy's polite cordiality, so anxious at Champ receiving medical checkups, so anxious at the appropriate way to partake of the food, appropriate responses to adults, appropriate participation in pokémon trainership. You can just not register for stuff, Lena. I hope she feels less need to become invisible as she gets stronger. Right now, it's like she's on an emotional rollercoaster where every mundane joy is a new peak and every trivial note of confusion is a fearful trough.

I also note that her surname is Castel. Could that be relevant? It seems remarkable and significant that her name likely shares etymology with Castelia city, but nobody's remarked on it in the fic.

Anyway, I still love this defiant, polite, barely-literate kid and her loyalty to Champ. Love that she catches on quick and starts saying 'Johto-style' to blend in. Love this constant calculating of what she has to/shouldn't do which I find terribly relatable. Love how much she cares when she insists that she does not.

This worldbuilding in chapter five about ones and fives and noobs is pretty good stuff. It feels like it could be canon, easily. I love that lena is always thinking about stuff like using tackle as a scouting move, showing that she's got a kind of smarts that aren't that common in other trainers. Being able to use the way people underestimate her as a tactical advantage. She also uses a bunch of her own names for moves. Sneak move? Is that sucker punch? Nice.

I note that purrloin is typoed as purloin consistently!

So, her first big failure was bound to happen eventually, especially when Lena has so much pride and spite and difficulty coping with losing. She wasn't gonna keep up the demoralising grind forever. But how will it play out? With a Johto trainer, apparently! Is that a cyndaquil? I wondered if anything might come of that after 'Johto style', but I guess it was just a bit of flavour. I note that battle is different from what we're used to. Elemental attacks, confident use of moves to control the flow of battle, and Lena completely out of her element and collapsing with nerves. Ouch. Poor Champ.

So, she hates the other trainers, particularly the casual ones. Of which she technically is one, albeit with a financial motivation rather than for fun. I thought for a sec, does she hate anyone who isn't a sore loser? But nah. It's about being able to afford to lose, right? The fact that everyone else is polite and casual about forking over money is a reminder that they don't have the struggles and fears she does. But would she really like to take money from someone like herself? Would she prefer to defeat people to whom the money really mattered? The world isn't equal, and that's really the problem.

Small correction for chapter six, faint is typoed as feint. Pretty sure that's what you meant, anyway.

Sad to see Lena thinking about how the cost of using the healing machine isn't worth it on someone who is 'not a real trainer'. That hit to her confidence is enormous, clearly. As is the degree to which this is a super awkward convo. It's not hard to see how she and this kid are foils. He's got a specially-bred rare 'mon, she has an ordinary common rat, he hates battling, she hates being homesick, he has no desire to do this, this matters to her enormously, and so on. Plenty of incidental worldbuilding tucked into this conversation, like the idea that some people start with a designated 'mon obtained at expense by their parents, analagous to nepotistic employment opportunities and private education in the real world I guess. There's also some great incidental character stuff, like Lena's nervous tics and the way she feels intensely responsible for Champ. I'm not sure she could've gotten a better result once the fight started, honestly. Poor lass.

The opening of chapter seven is frankly alarming. I wondered if she was having a straight up anxiety attack? She seems almost dissociative, aside from her being so out of her usual character. It really sucks to see Lena feeling like this after she was such a little gem all story so far, but it's delicious to see a negative side of her once the intensity and necessity of her desires finally catches up with her feelings of resentment at the competitive and hobbyist trainers. She has finally realised that Champ is weak, and though it isn't spelled out for us, it's easy to believe that she has some repressed resentment at the poor rat lad for that weakness. She's an absolute anger black hole vortex right now and it kills me that Champ's efforts to comfort her are met with such cruel reactions, but hey. She's like, not even eleven years old and everything kindof sucks in this moment. She needs to let it out, and by the time she does, she's done something terrible.

That moment elicited a real holy SHIT from me, I gotta tell you.

I really like moments like this in fic, where we get to see characters react poorly to extreme emotional turmoil and then immediately have to deal with the consequences of it. It's such a simple thing, and she hasn't even harmed Champ, but the emotional rejection was brutal. Once her head's clear, her love for her partner is back to being unclouded, and we get to see her, frantic, try to make things right. I love when characters have to own up to shit, and the execution here is honestly a delight. The the hardest word bit is very charming, and a great way to build up this extremely brief and tiny moment. Really well delivered, especially with that final line. Oh man, I'm upset. And hooked. And bugging you to crosspost from the Bad Website! Do it ASAP, please! I will absolutely binge the rest, I assure you.

Bless bless bless this fic and these two little charmers. This was such a good read it really cheered me up on a difficult day. Hard rec, honestly.

Thanks!

 

[slamdunkrai]

Hi! Here for Blitz. The premise for this one, plus the wonderful cover art and my very good experiences with Dragon's Dance, intrigued me enough that I figured I would have to check this out. It's certainly wildly different and much lower in immediate stakes than DD, which makes sense when our protagonist is still a wee child, but I enjoyed the first two chapters all the same. I figured I'd fire this one out real quick before the theme bonus wraps up; nevertheless, I'll definitely have to check out more!

I think my favourite thing about this, which has been commented on by several other people but bears repeating here, is the way you manage to balance telling a story from the first-person perspective of a ten year old protagonist (and nailing her voice as the POV character) with showing off the concepts you've set up. The main thing I've taken away from reading this is that it'd be a fun exercise in concise in-story descriptions, and I think this has to do with the way you have Lena focus on individual details — she's a very economically-minded kid, which makes a lot of sense given her upbringing! The way you introduce this, with the episode of her reselling an Ultra Ball and feeling like she got ripped off by it (deducing that the shopkeeper figured they could get away with it by looking at her clothes), is a really sharp example of this. She approaches this, like she does pretty much everything I can think of, like a believable kid of her age would. I really like that you show off her deductive skills there, because kids aren't stupid; they're very observant, to paraphrase that one tumblr post, they just also tend to extrapolate from those observations a little to cover for the gaps in their world knowledge. Which Lena does!

My best friend, Sammy, says I'm a whiner. She's right. I'm luckier than most of us: my parents have a house to rent that has heating in fall and winter, and I have a jacket. I love my jacket more than almost anything else ever.

This is also a really good example of good kid-writing. Sammy absolutely would tease her best friend like this, and Lena extrapolates her knowledge based off her observations: she is luckier than most people she knows, because she has a roof over her head and heating when it's cold and a cool jacket (which is one of the best things in the entire world, possibly ever, because she's ten and kids that age are just like that). As has been picked up on before, there's the watch, too. It's the little things in the world that paint a bigger picture of the way in which Lena exists. The writing style and the way the protagonist describes her experiences with the wider world reminds me of The House on Mango Street; my memory is a little fuzzy, but I believe Esperanza in that one is a little bit older than Lena is here — however, I stand by the comparison, because that outlook feels similar (albeit Lena is more optimistic and bubbly about the world).

There's the other sewer kids, those funny dancers I used to tease, that crazy guy who hangs out in our alley who I think sells drugs, but he always liked Champ so I liked him⁠

This feels very much like Mango Street, for example. It's also the exact sort of thing a ten year old who knows what drugs are and has a rough idea of how they are distributed would say (and, y'know, it makes sense given what you tell us about her). I liked this! It's darkly comic in the way little kids tend to be.

Only the stronger rattata who also know the glowy-teeth move want to challenge him now. It's actually kind of a problem, because battles with the strong rattata are really close and tire Champ out for the rest of the day. It would be easier if he could keep fighting the less tough rattata, but it wouldn't be right for him to beat them up even if he stopped when they fainted because then they would be too tired to find food that day and then some other pokemon would beat them up too and then they'd starve.

Recently I got an idea, though. After Champ beats a weak rattata, I give it enough food to get its strength back. I'm really glad Mom's friends with one of the chefs, because otherwise we wouldn't be able to get all these leftovers. I can't take too many though, or Mom might get suspicious.

Another case of Lena being economically-minded in the way little kids in her situation tend to be, and also just a kind, giving person helped by her community — I swear, if economic inequality isn't completely solved the time 15, I'm going to attack Tim Finances (the inventor of finances) myself when I'm older. Also, a good jumping off point for me to say that I love Champ; he's got a lot of personality (and examples of that personality are used by Lena to jump to some fun little conclusions — e.g. "I know he's just pretending to be mad"; as a ten year old who had a hamster, yeah, kids are like that) and he's an endearing little fella. Given that he's a little rattata with whom scrappy Lena is going to take Unova by storm, his name is very accurate. This was commented upon by Jackie, but the cover art of them two really sells their vibe nicely.

I don't know how to look at them, so I just keep petting Champ. He snuggles closer. "Thanks guys," I manage to say. "But I am gonna do good. And then you guys won't have to worry so much."

Then Mom's hugging really tight. "You shouldn't be worrying about us," she tells me. "Worrying is our job. Your job is to be a great trainer. Now come on, tell me how you met Champ here. Tell me how you've been training."

I swallow as Champ and I leave the city again. Route 4 is the same sandy mess, but this time I'm just looking up and up the road. I don't have a map, but the way seems clear enough that only an idiot would get lost, and somewhere up there is Nimbasa City.

I take a deep breath and stop slouching. I raise my head and with a gesture Champ comes to my side. I'm thinking that I'm not just Lena anymore.

Now I'm Lena, pokemon trainer.

Not too much to say about these two excerpts, other than to say: I love Lena's family and those around her, and I will be watching Lena's growth as a trainer and a person with eager eyes. Unova will simply not know what hit it. They are not ready for this powerful child. Great opening two chapters; I'll have to catch up later on in Blitz, and will definitely keep an eye out for future updates on here! (I may even have to go to FFN for that, the child has affected me so deeply. Look at what you have done to me.) Great stuff! Cheers for writing it! :>

 

[Pen]

Outside, it's dark. Champ and I are huddled under the covers. I've been petting him the last hour and he's so relaxed he sprawls out on the bed like pudding.

"I know we had a plan," I say. "It's a good plan. It's so good. I mean, we've got 2,000 poke already. 2,346. That's more than Dad gets in a week. But―"

I bite my lip and pull at the covers. "It just. It just makes me feel sick. Not like in my stommy or anything, just bad. Us fighting all those losers we can beat."

"Tat."

"I want to try, Champ. I want to try fighting the better Noobs, the Ones. Maybe even the gym. Because we're not bad! We're not so much more badder than they are."

"Tat ratta-ratta-tat!" His eyes are bright in the dimly lit room.

"I'm so proud of you," I say. I realize I'm crying a bit. "I want to do this so much only I feel like it's stupid, that we'd fail, and I hate feeling like that. Or that I'm letting down Mom. Cause if we start fighting the real trainers, we'll lose sometimes. We won't make all the money we could make."

I wonder if maybe I've gotten selfish out here on my own. I don't have to think about my food or my bed or what's going to happen tomorrow here. Mom and Dad do. Sammy does. Everyone does back at home.

I sit quiet, thinking hard. "If, if we're going to do this, like the other trainers do, we've got to be smart." Then a yawn hits me and I notice how heavy my eyes feel. "Maybe I'll be smart in the morning," I tell Champ.

"Rattata," he chitters at me, and curls up right on my stomach.

---

At the cafeteria, I run into the waiting-boy again. Or he runs into me, I guess. He plunks down his tray at my table and says hi, looking like I'm going to bite him. Well, I won't. Champ might.

"I'm Walter," he says. "I never got your name?"

"Lena," I say, through a spoonful of porridge.

He fiddles with the berries on his plate. "Have you been here long?" he asks.

"Been a few weeks, I think." It hits me for the first time then, I guess. I've never been away so long. "It's the longest I've ever been from home," I find myself telling him, and then I want to smack myself. What a stupid thing for a trainer to say. So nooby. So dumb.

"That's rough," he says. "I'm pretty new to the training thing, but I'm used to being away from home. That's probably the least scary part of it for me. The battling, though―" He laughs a little, but it sounds sad. "That's another thing."

"It's not the fighting I mind," I tell him. I feel less stupid, now that he's called it scary.

He nods. "I get that. You seem tough."

"Tough?"

He shrugs. "Yeah."

I like how that sounds. It would be cool to be tough.

"I'm not really," I say. "Like, my mom. I miss her so much. I just want to talk to her."

"Why not call?"

I look at him for a moment, then look at my goopy porridge. “No phone,” I mumble.

“Oh,” Walter says, sitting up a bit in his seat. “The center has lots of them! Right in the lobby.”

He sounds proud of himself for noticing, which is just weird, cause I don’t know how anyone could miss them: six vidphones, all lined up in a row, with big shiny screens the size of a TV. “I know that.”

“Then―” Walter’s forehead goes all wrinkly.

“We don't have a phone at home," I tell him, not sure why he’s being so stupid all of a sudden.

He blinks. “Really? You don't?"

I stick out my chin. "Do you?"

"Well, yeah. Most people do."

Most people don't, I think. Sammy didn't have a phone at home. And neither did the dancing boys. All the grey-men in the streets―I knew they had phones they carried around with them everywhere, but real people didn't. Right?

"We don't have a phone," I say again.

He does this thing where he jerks his mouth open and shut and moves his hands around. "It's just weird for me to think of any house not having a phone," he says finally.

"What do we need a phone for?"

"Um, calling people who aren't there? Like, family?"

"Well, all my family's in Castelia."

"Then I guess," he tries to smile, but messes it up, "you don't need a phone."

I frown at him. "Phones are expensive," I say. "That's why we don't have one." I don't want to act like we chose not to buy a phone just cause we didn’t want it, or something stupid like that.

"Oh," he says.

I know he's a rich kid. I can smell the money on his clothes. But he said being a trainer is scary and that I'm tough, so I guess he's not so bad.

I take a large spoonful of my food, suddenly hungry. "Hey, you know how you asked me what Champ and I were going to do?"

"Yeah."

"Well, we're going to get stronger."

He nods. "You told me, I think," he says, all polite. All etiquette.

Yeah, but I was lying when I told you, I think. Now I'm not.

---

By the end of breakfast, I've got another plan.

Walter tells me some things I didn't know before. Like, with money you've got to give more if you have more, which sounds fair to me. I don't know if it's really a rule or just an etiquette thing, but that's how it works, Walter says. But what that means is, if I don't have anything then I've got nothing to lose. If I send money home when I have it and fight when I don't, then even if I lose everyday only Champ and me will be hurt.

How to get the money to Mom is the hard part. "What do you think?" I ask Champ.

"Rat-tat-tat," Champ says, biting at my leg. He runs off towards the counter at the front. I follow him slowly, wishing he wasn't so smart. Nurse Joy can prob'ly help. Only I don't want to ask her.

Too late. Champ's already chittering at her. I trudge up behind him.

"Oh hello, Lena. Can I help you?"

I finger my shirt, all fraidy. "How—can—if I wanted to send some money home could you help me?"

Nurse Joy smiles. "Of course! Do you have a PC at your house?"

I'm not so sure what a PC is. But I am sure we don't have one. "No."

"In that case, the easiest way is to transfer money to your local pokemon center for your family to claim."

"You can do that?"

"Easily. Cash or credit?"

I bite my lip. " . . . cash?" I try, pulling out a wad of poke.

Nurse Joy sees how I don't know, I think. "Credit is just a virtual way of storing money. It's very useful if you have more poke than you want to keep on you, or if you’re sending money over long distances. All trainer cards have a credit function. You can convert your cash to credit at any official pokecenter, mart, or other league building. You have to be careful that it is an official league outpost, of course, because there are criminals out there who will steal your credit if you give them your card unwisely. Most professional trainers use credit—it makes determining post-match rewards much simpler." Nurse Joy stops for a moment, maybe so I can think over all that. "Let me know if you want to start storing your money as credit. In the meantime, what amount would you like to transfer, where to, and to whom?"

I start pulling the poke out of my bag. It's weird, having all my money out like that. I keep looking around to see who's watching. I’m not a baby—I know it’s not safe to go flashing all your money around. Nurse Joy puts my money through some sort of device, and when I lean over a number blinks on the screen: 2346.

Nurse Joy moves the screen so I can see. "I'll need your trainer card, please."

I give it to her and she scans it. When my face comes up on the screen, she taps a thing that says "Transfer."

"To Castelia," I say. She nods and taps the screen again.

"Who do you want to designate to pick the money up?"

"Um." I realize I don't have any way of telling Mom or Dad that there's money from me at the poke center. They never go there, anyway. The only person I know who goes is—

"Sammy!" I say.

"Could I have a last name?"

"Sammy Thomas. But," I frown, "she won't know. Can you, I don't know, maybe tell them to tell her if they see her? Cause they know her—it's just that she won't know."

Nurse Joy smiles. "I'll call the center," she says, and dials. "Hello! This is Nurse Joy from Nimbasa City. I have a money transfer to be picked up by one Sammy Thomas. Are you familiar with her?" The other nurse nods. "Ms. Thomas doesn't know about the transfer," this Joy continues. "Can you let her know as soon as you see her?"

"Not a problem!"

"Is this a one-time thing, or will these transfers be ongoing?"

"Um, ongoing," I say. "And, um." Both Joys look at me. "Can you tell Sammy it's for my family, please?" They're still looking at me and I feel strange, like I've been caught in the back-allies after dark and someone's waiting to jump me.

"Can do," the Castelia Nurse Joy says. "Anything else?"

I shake my head.

Nurse Joy ends the call.

"And is there anything else I can do for you?" this Joy asks.

"No," I say. "Thanks. Um. Thanks a lot for helping me."

"It's my job," she says.

I start to go away, but I'm too curious. "Excuse me, but why are you both named Joy?"

"Joy isn't my name," she says, laughing a bit. "Nurse Joy’s an old title, meaning that I'm officially certified by the international pokemon league as both a doctor and a league representative."

"Oh." I wonder what her real name is, but I'm way too fraidy to ask.

Champ and I go outside. We've got no money now—it's all gone virtual. I wonder for a bit if Sammy will bring the money to my family. But I'm being stupid. I trust Sammy.

I wonder if Mom and Dad will be proud of the money I've made them. I should have sent Sammy a message to give Mom! I think suddenly. But maybe the money is my message—I love you; I'm tough.

I can fight whoever I want to now. I don't have to be fraidy about it. I can fight just to see whose pokemon is stronger and whose battling is better, like the real trainers do.

It hits me all at once. Everything I used to dream about when I was just a kid and didn't know better is coming true.

"I'm so lucky, Champ," I say. He butts his head against my leg, and I blink a bit. I don't think I'd mind crying now. Crying cause you're happy isn't so bad.

 

[Pen]

Battling's harder now that I don't just fight the noobs. The first two trainers we fight beat us. But the third time, we win. That's how it goes for the next week, battles and battles. When we win I send the money home. (Though sometimes I take some and buy Champ a treat because he's so good and he deserves it).

The week goes by quick. I don't think of home too much at all. When I battle I think about battling. When I wait for Champ in the pokecenter, I think of what we could have done different. Sometimes I talk to Walter. He's bad at fighting, but I'm not a meany about it. He knows all sorts of things I don't know.

I'm starting to get more level with the Ones. They keep saying to me, "Training for your gym battle, eh?" until I start to think that maybe I am. If I had a badge everyone would know I was serious. That I wasn't just some noob. I don't get why it bothers me so much, them thinking I'm a noob. I am, even, just—I am serious. I want them to look at me like I matter.

I know the gym leader's Elesa. She's a model and they show her all the time on the big public TVs. She wears clothes that don't even look like clothes. She might be the most beautiful person I've ever seen.

When I see her on the screen, I stop and watch for a bit. The other trainers are always talking about her, not just the Ones but even the Threes and Fours. Which means she's tough.

"Maybe we should check out the gym," I say. "Just look."

Champ shrugs.

It's crowded there. Some of the people are trainers, I think, watching the building like I am. Maybe they're working up their courage to go in. That thought makes me feel better. I'm not the only one who's scared.

Most of the other people don't have pokeballs. They're dressed real nice. Maybe they're training too, except as models and not pokemon trainers. Or maybe they're just like me and think Elesa is the most beautiful person in the world.

I stand around for almost a whole hour before I start to creep up towards the front. Well. Actually, Champ gets a bit antsy and starts to go, so I go after him. The woman at the door looks sort of sleepy. She asks me the question she's been asking everyone else. "Here for a challenge?"

I'm not sure how to answer. I know only the people who say yes go inside. But if I say yes I would be fighting a gym leader. I don't know how to do that. I don't know if I'm allowed to do that.

"No," I say. Then I blurt, "Sorry," for wasting her time. I almost run away then, but an idea hits me and I say real fast, "Could I watch a battle?"

The woman smiles at me, but it’s the smile people give to say no. "I'm afraid that's not possible. Our gym, like most others, has a strict privacy policy for challengers." She looks at me a little more. "However, if you're interested in watching Elesa battle, the pokecenter should have records of some of her exhibition matches."

"Thank you so much," I say. Then I go. But I don't run away.

We spend the night watching battle tapes. It's actually really fun. Nurse Joy lets me use a TV all for myself and Chansey brings me a hot chocolate, and since the center is pretty quiet, they even end up joining me on the couch.

"I've always been a great admirer of Elesa," Nurse Joy tells me. "Her beauty and her power." She's quiet for a bit, and then says. "Also, whenever I see her I think of my sister. She's a fashion designer, working in Lumiose City now. I don't suppose you've heard of Boutique Couture?"

I shake my head.

"Well, it's an incredibly exclusive fashion store. They take only the best." Nurse Joy looks proud, and then her smile falls and she sighs. "I wish Cisi were a little better at staying in touch, though."

I wonder what it's like to have a sister. If someone was back at home with Mom and Dad I'd feel less bad about being so far away. I don't think I've been very good at staying in touch either.

On the screen, Elesa's zebstrika bursts into flames. "I thought it was an electric type!" I exclaim.

"It is," Nurse Joy says, "but being an electric type doesn't preclude it from learning other move-types as well. And a single type specialist like Elesa has to teach her pokemon a diverse set of moves so that they won't be helpless against their type weaknesses."

"Oh." I'm really glad Nurse Joy is here. She knows a lot about pokemon. Maybe she was a trainer first and then decided she wanted to be a nurse.

Nurse Joy glances up at the clock. "I should check in on the intensive care unit. When you're done watching, just turn off the TV and give the records to Chansey. Don't stay up too late though." She stifles a yawn and then looks embarrassed.

This time I don't mind as much that she's trying to be like my mom. Ten minutes after she's left I notice I'm yawning too. Champ snickers at me a bit.

Bed time, I guess.

---

"You don't have any money?"

I shake my head quickly.

The One looks annoyed. "I've seen you winning some battles around here. Don't you have anything from that?"

"I spent it," I say, a little trembly. "O-on supplies. For Champ."

The One sighs. "What a waste of time," he mumbles. "Whatever."

I watch him go, feeling like I can't breathe. Any moment he's going to turn around, ask my name, look at my ID, grab my arm and take me to the police. The police would know I'm not a real trainer. They'd send me home or they'd arrest me and maybe they'd come to our house and take back the money I sent or they'd arrest Mom and Dad too, or worse yet they'd say I'm some sort of thief, which I am not because I won those battles fair. I won those battles fair just like the other trainers did, and nobody said there's a rule against fighting like I'm doing. Only I'm not a real trainer and maybe no-one would care—

A hand touches my shoulder and I flinch away from it.

"Hey, sorry for startling you." It's a boy about my age, but he’s tall. "I just wanted to come over and apologize for Tyler. He can be a bit of a jerk when things don't go his way, you know? He's got no right to lash out at you like that."

"It's okay," I mumble, my heart still pounding. I want him to get away too. I want both of them to forget I exist.

"Okay," the boy says. He smiles a bit. "Just wanted to clear that up. Tyler's not a bad guy, you know?"

I don't have anything to say to that, really. I don't know if Tyler's a bad guy or not.

"Right," the boy says. "Well, nice to meet you. And sorry about that."

He takes off at a jog, and I watch him catch up to his friend.

"Ratta!"

Champ's voice catches me by surprise. I pick him up, hugging him close. "What am I doing, Champ?" I say. "Someone's going to catch me. They'll arrest me and take you away and we won't be together. I'm such a stupid-head. Going to that gym like I could go to a gym. They'd know I'm not a real trainer at a gym, they'd see it and they'd say what are you doing here? And—" I realize my voice is coming out like little sobs.

Champ nips at my arm. "Rat tat tat," he says firmly.

It finally hits me that Champ is tired from the battle. "You need to go to the pokecenter," I say slowly. That thought gets my head to straighten out.

When we get there, I have trouble meeting Nurse Joy's eyes. She was the one who helped me send the money, so it can't be wrong, can it? But Nurse Joy is nice. She might do things that were a little wrong and not care. Or maybe she thinks I'm just sending some of my money. She might not know I'm cheating.

The word really hits me then.

Because I am cheating.

But no matter what I do I'm cheating. It's cheating if I fight the noobs I know I can beat, but I have to do that if I don't send away my money. And Mom and Dad need my money.

Lena the Cheat. I try out my new nickname under my breath. It makes me feel sad.

I don't want to stay around the pokemon center any longer. All the other trainers, the ones who aren't cheats, make me feel icky and scared. "Let's walk around the city," I tell Champ when he's feeling better.

There's always something to do in Nimbasa city.

---

Normally I like the amusement park. Even if you don't go on rides there's all sorts of people and pokemon to see. But this time seeing all these people smiling and kids laughing with their pokemon makes my stommy feel tighter. I think how I'm at the amusement park, but I'm not buying anything. One of the stalls is giving out free samples—crispy berries on a skewer. I take one, sliding off a big red berry for Champ. He gives a happy chitter when he eats it.

I pop a piece of oran berry into my mouth. It tastes sweet and slightly charred, so good. But after I swallow, my stomach twists. Because I ate it, but I didn't buy it.

I'm cheating again.

It's starting to get dark, so we begin to head back to the pokecenter. We're passing the pokemart on our way back when a woman with short hair and a crisp white shirt comes up to us and sticks a microphone in my face.

"Are you N-O for T-Ms?" she says loudly.

I blink. "Um?"

The woman sighs. "Youth perspective, they say. We want the youth perspective. Hasn't anyone ever told them the youth don't care?" She gives a louder sigh, and pushes back her dark-blue bangs. The guy next to her, with the big camera, sort of shrugs.

"Look," she says, this time to me. "T-M. Stands for Technical Machine. Instantaneously teaches your pokemon a move it may not be able to learn any other way. Gyarados that can spout fire! Glameows that can breathe ice! All the rage, until a few scientists released a study which found that pokemon exposed to TMs can suffer dangerous side effects. Bone weakness, reduced lifespan, potentially fatal, etc. Instant controversy. Some trainers say the study is inconclusive and just fear-mongering. Others accuse the TM industry of concealing anti-TM research. But what we'd like to know is, have you, a young, fresh-faced trainer, ever used a TM?"

"No." I answer her automatically. Then what she was saying finally hits me. "You're saying TMs aren't safe?" I ask. I thought TMs were what the good trainers used.

"Why haven't you used a TM before?" the woman asks me. "What's stopped you?"

I want to leave, but she's right in my face and I don't know what to do except answer her. "They cost too much," I mumble.

"A little louder?" The mic is under my nose again.

"They cost too much!" I say, loud this time.

"Hm." The mic is gone and she leans back. "Hey. Story. 'For trainers who can't afford TMs' – scratch that—'For trainers on a budget, banning TMs could level the battle-field.' Whatd'ya think, Ness?"

Camera Guy gives another shrug. She twists her head dramatically upwards. "Blessed beedrill, it's like talking to a nosepass. Listen—what's your name?"

"Lena," I say, before I can think of why not to. I clamp my mouth shut.

"Right, Lena. Here's my number. Add me to your x-phone. I'll be wanting to talk to you again."

"What? I don't have that."

"Oh." Her eyes go big. "That's perfect. Inconvenient, though. Trainer ID then, please." I hold it out and she looks at it. "Lena Castel. Castelia City. My name's Stel. Stel Nausica, top reporter for Unova Daily. Nice to meet you, Lena."

She holds out an expectant hand, and I take it. Her grip is steady and quick.

"Listen," she says, looking straight into my eyes. "Would you mind if I did a quick interview?"

I look up in panic.

"It doesn't have to be filmed if being on camera makes you uncomfortable," Stel continues. She flicks a finger at her companion. "Go get b-roll," she snaps. He leaves without replying.

"We can find a nice cafe and get a treat for you and your rattata." She leans down and extends a hand for Champ to examine. "Does it have a name?"

"His name is Champ," I say, watching. Champ sniffs her hand a few times and finally gives his approval, butting his head against her arm.

Champ looks up at me. His eyes are saying yes. "Okay," I tell her, and try not to look like I'm scared.

 

[unrepentantAuthor]

Chapter Eight Review Time~

Ah, I'm so glad you added another couple chapters. And that Champ is a pudding rat. Most adorable 'mon. I hope he's this cute if/when he evolves. (Line break missing after the first paragraph btw.)

I forget how long Lena's been at this now, exactly, but it's only a matter of days, right? Couple weeks at most? Training must be lucrative as hell even at very low levels of proficiency, if you keep up a good winning streak as they've done. Pretty wild to think about. And I seem to recall that a single ball was worth about 250, so her dad's weekly earnings cover less than a straight ten balls. The disparity, and the fact Lena even knows her dad's weekly earnings, is pretty miserable stuff. Hard to be actually dejected for long when these guys are so cute and easy to root for, though.

Lena's pride and desire to do more than grind apathetic hobbyists conflicting with her intense sense of responsibility towards her family is also deeply heartbreaking. I love her. Please be smart and do well, you brave kid.

The conversation about phones is another sore one, but I like that the contrast between Lena and Walter continues to develop them as foils. I wonder if he'll be a recurring character? He's not awful, despite the reflexive impulse to resent him for being A Rich Kid. I appreciate his advising Lena about sending money home and admitting to his own fears.

Man, the end to this one hits me pretty hard to be honest. I love Lena; she's tough.