AMawileNamedQuinn
Team Skull Enthusiest
- Pronouns
- They/them
Hi! This is a fic set in the not-so-distant future of the Pokémon anime! It contains cursing, so read at your own comfort level. I hope to write more in the future, as I'm hoping to have this be an episodic schooling fic set in a silly shiny-hunting school.
Shiny Hunter Incorporated Trainer Experience Rule #0:
“A hunter must be ready to catch a shiny Pokémon at any time. Who knows when it might appear!”
—Shane Seeker, founder, headmaster, hunter, and part-time bus driver
“Finch!!! The bus is almost here!!” I heard my mom call from downstairs. My eyes popped open, and I scrambled out of bed, shoving off the pink pajama pants I was wearing. I threw on some jeans and a worn gray T-shirt.
“I’m coming, Ma!” I yelled down the stairs as I haphazardly squeezed some toothpaste onto my toothbrush and brushed for maybe thirty seconds—definitely not as long as I should have. I spat into the sink, but noticed the small red shell of my Clauncher, who had been fast asleep until five seconds ago. Now he was staring at me very angrily.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Sheldon. But we gotta go, or we’re going to be late!”
Sheldon, my Clauncher, was shiny. I’d found him when I was twelve, and from then on I’d been obsessed with shiny Pokémon. My parents had noticed my fascination. I’d seen a few more since then, mostly on business trips with my father to Hoenn and Johto, but I’d never managed to catch another. That was all going to change. I was finally old enough to attend Seeker University, the renowned school for all things shiny Pokémon. I’d barely been accepted, and luckily convinced my father to help pay for my first semester. The rest, I figured, was history.
When I made it downstairs, my mom was standing impatiently. She had short brunette hair and was wearing the fluffy green robe I’d bought her for Mother’s Day two years ago.
“Finch Winston Fitzwilliam, your father is not paying for you to go to this school just so you can be late to your dorm. Orientation is in three hours, and the bus will be here any minute! What have you been doing?”
“I overslept, Ma!” I said, Sheldon rolling his eyes from my shoulder. I ran a hand through my platinum blonde hair. I hadn’t had time to brush it, so it was a floppy mess. Ma raised an eyebrow at me.
“Listen, I gotta go!” I blurted before she could comment. “The bus’ll be here any minute!”
Immediately, her expression softened. “Well, take this avocado toast I made you! And remember, I love you. You’re gonna do great, Star.” She handed me the toast before hugging me tight.
I smiled. She’d called me Star for years now, ever since Sheldon became my partner six years ago. I shoved the toast in my mouth—the avocado just a little overripe, because we always forget to use them right away. Grabbing my packed bags and my guitar, I headed out the door.
“Finch?” my mom called as I turned around.
“Yes, Ma?”
She snapped a photo. “For the Porygram,” she said with a weak laugh.
“Love you, Ma,” I laughed.
“Love you too.” She smiled. “Go on now, Star! You’ve got to make it to the bus stop! It’s just past Route 4! You can’t miss it!”
I nodded, then turned back to hug her one more time before sprinting through Route 4 faster than I ever had before. The bus—a shiny Steelix with seating arrangements fixed to its back—was beginning to surface. Its bright gold carapace was painted with “Seeker University Incoming Class” in big dark blue letters. Of course they would use a shiny for transportation. It was everything I’d dreamed of. As I ran, I laughed at the fact that it was wearing a big bus-driver hat.
I smiled and slowed down in the tall grass. I was going to make it.
However—just as I stepped through the last field of red flowers and some Flabébé flew out of my way—I saw one with a dark, bluish tail.
Well, shit.
She carried a white flower and looked almost sad. The other Flabébé around her didn’t seem to understand her. I glanced frantically between her and the bus. Either I didn’t miss the bus—didn’t miss my dreams—or I caught another shiny.
The choice should’ve been obvious. If I caught the bus, I’d get to study under Shane Seeker and other famous shiny hunters. I’d catch plenty more shiny Pokémon. It was the clear, rational decision.
I, however, was not a rational person.
My dad always said I never had an eye for good decisions. One time, when I was seven, he let me choose between a lollipop or the new “Mega-Hawlucha” action figure. I chose the lollipop. I’ve eternally regretted that decision, since those things now go for like 40,000 Pokédollars apiece.
“Sheldon.” I looked at my partner. His angry eyes seemed determined — he already knew what was about to happen. “Water Gun!”
Sheldon had been with me so long and studied shiny hunting methods with me. He crept up behind the Flabébé and hit her just hard enough not to faint her before I pulled out a Premier Ball and threw it. As the ball opened, the confused Flabébé looked around in bewildered fear. Before the ball could catch her, she blew a Fairy Wind and knocked it aside, then began to fly away.
“Sheldon! Run after it!” I exclaimed, making chase myself. “We’re not gonna hurt you! We want to catch you! You’ll be a member of our team!”
At this, the Flabébé stopped and turned, looking at me with something like hope. I seized the moment and threw another Premier Ball. Light engulfed her—her eyes widened in shock—and she vanished into the ball.
One shake.
Two shakes.
Three shakes.
I’d caught her.
“Sheldon, you beautiful crustacean, you!” I scooped him up as he gargled excitedly, and the two of us danced around the Premier Ball lying in the grass. I picked it up reverently.
“I’m going to call you Miracle,” I said, smiling. “Because it was a miracle I found you. Now come on, Sheldon, let’s get to the—”
I turned to see the very empty bus stop.
“The bus.”
Sheldon panicked, scuttling toward the stop and searching frantically for any sign of the Steelix.
“It’s okay, buddy,” I said, taking a deep breath. “We’ll figure something out. Promise.”
I looked around for directions, bus times, anything— when I heard a rumble.
“What the hell—” I stepped back toward Sheldon as the ground shook harder. Then, out from the earth, sprouted a giant golden leviathan. The bus.
“Hello there! Finch, I presume?” a voice called down. I looked up at the Steelix and noticed someone crawling out from under its hat.
“Shane Seeker?” I asked, flabbergasted. The man looked no older than twenty, but I knew he was closer to forty. He was the man who’d made shiny hunting my dream, who’d founded the school for hunters. He’d even met Ash Ketchum and battled alongside him once. He was my hero.
“That’s the name! Don’t wear it out!” He smiled. He was wearing baggy jeans and a paint-splattered white Pokéball shirt. His blond hair, longer than in his glory days, hung to his shoulders, and his oversized glasses nearly swallowed his face. On anyone else he’d look like a nerdy college student, but he was a multi-millionaire shiny Pokémon researcher.
“Did you catch the Flabébé?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, sir!” I said, holding up the Premier Ball. He laughed and looked at me like a proud teacher.
“A hunter must be ready to catch a—” he started.
“—shiny Pokémon at any time!” I cut him off, too excited. I immediately realized what I’d done and covered my mouth.
He grinned. “Who knows when it might appear,” he finished, winking. “You forgot that part. Now get on the bus.”
And one awkward bus ride later, I was here. At school. I’ll write more about the bus ride later, and about my first shiny identification class—as well as Pokémon care. I don’t really know why we have a bookkeeping class. The whole thing feels a little silly. Keep a book recapping my school experience? It feels a little pointless, but I suppose I shouldn’t complain. Mostly because this is for a grade.
Until next time,
- Finch W. Fitzwilliam, Hunter-in-training
Shiny Hunter Incorporated Trainer Experience Rule #0:
“A hunter must be ready to catch a shiny Pokémon at any time. Who knows when it might appear!”
—Shane Seeker, founder, headmaster, hunter, and part-time bus driver
“Finch!!! The bus is almost here!!” I heard my mom call from downstairs. My eyes popped open, and I scrambled out of bed, shoving off the pink pajama pants I was wearing. I threw on some jeans and a worn gray T-shirt.
“I’m coming, Ma!” I yelled down the stairs as I haphazardly squeezed some toothpaste onto my toothbrush and brushed for maybe thirty seconds—definitely not as long as I should have. I spat into the sink, but noticed the small red shell of my Clauncher, who had been fast asleep until five seconds ago. Now he was staring at me very angrily.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Sheldon. But we gotta go, or we’re going to be late!”
Sheldon, my Clauncher, was shiny. I’d found him when I was twelve, and from then on I’d been obsessed with shiny Pokémon. My parents had noticed my fascination. I’d seen a few more since then, mostly on business trips with my father to Hoenn and Johto, but I’d never managed to catch another. That was all going to change. I was finally old enough to attend Seeker University, the renowned school for all things shiny Pokémon. I’d barely been accepted, and luckily convinced my father to help pay for my first semester. The rest, I figured, was history.
When I made it downstairs, my mom was standing impatiently. She had short brunette hair and was wearing the fluffy green robe I’d bought her for Mother’s Day two years ago.
“Finch Winston Fitzwilliam, your father is not paying for you to go to this school just so you can be late to your dorm. Orientation is in three hours, and the bus will be here any minute! What have you been doing?”
“I overslept, Ma!” I said, Sheldon rolling his eyes from my shoulder. I ran a hand through my platinum blonde hair. I hadn’t had time to brush it, so it was a floppy mess. Ma raised an eyebrow at me.
“Listen, I gotta go!” I blurted before she could comment. “The bus’ll be here any minute!”
Immediately, her expression softened. “Well, take this avocado toast I made you! And remember, I love you. You’re gonna do great, Star.” She handed me the toast before hugging me tight.
I smiled. She’d called me Star for years now, ever since Sheldon became my partner six years ago. I shoved the toast in my mouth—the avocado just a little overripe, because we always forget to use them right away. Grabbing my packed bags and my guitar, I headed out the door.
“Finch?” my mom called as I turned around.
“Yes, Ma?”
She snapped a photo. “For the Porygram,” she said with a weak laugh.
“Love you, Ma,” I laughed.
“Love you too.” She smiled. “Go on now, Star! You’ve got to make it to the bus stop! It’s just past Route 4! You can’t miss it!”
I nodded, then turned back to hug her one more time before sprinting through Route 4 faster than I ever had before. The bus—a shiny Steelix with seating arrangements fixed to its back—was beginning to surface. Its bright gold carapace was painted with “Seeker University Incoming Class” in big dark blue letters. Of course they would use a shiny for transportation. It was everything I’d dreamed of. As I ran, I laughed at the fact that it was wearing a big bus-driver hat.
I smiled and slowed down in the tall grass. I was going to make it.
However—just as I stepped through the last field of red flowers and some Flabébé flew out of my way—I saw one with a dark, bluish tail.
Well, shit.
She carried a white flower and looked almost sad. The other Flabébé around her didn’t seem to understand her. I glanced frantically between her and the bus. Either I didn’t miss the bus—didn’t miss my dreams—or I caught another shiny.
The choice should’ve been obvious. If I caught the bus, I’d get to study under Shane Seeker and other famous shiny hunters. I’d catch plenty more shiny Pokémon. It was the clear, rational decision.
I, however, was not a rational person.
My dad always said I never had an eye for good decisions. One time, when I was seven, he let me choose between a lollipop or the new “Mega-Hawlucha” action figure. I chose the lollipop. I’ve eternally regretted that decision, since those things now go for like 40,000 Pokédollars apiece.
“Sheldon.” I looked at my partner. His angry eyes seemed determined — he already knew what was about to happen. “Water Gun!”
Sheldon had been with me so long and studied shiny hunting methods with me. He crept up behind the Flabébé and hit her just hard enough not to faint her before I pulled out a Premier Ball and threw it. As the ball opened, the confused Flabébé looked around in bewildered fear. Before the ball could catch her, she blew a Fairy Wind and knocked it aside, then began to fly away.
“Sheldon! Run after it!” I exclaimed, making chase myself. “We’re not gonna hurt you! We want to catch you! You’ll be a member of our team!”
At this, the Flabébé stopped and turned, looking at me with something like hope. I seized the moment and threw another Premier Ball. Light engulfed her—her eyes widened in shock—and she vanished into the ball.
One shake.
Two shakes.
Three shakes.
I’d caught her.
“Sheldon, you beautiful crustacean, you!” I scooped him up as he gargled excitedly, and the two of us danced around the Premier Ball lying in the grass. I picked it up reverently.
“I’m going to call you Miracle,” I said, smiling. “Because it was a miracle I found you. Now come on, Sheldon, let’s get to the—”
I turned to see the very empty bus stop.
“The bus.”
Sheldon panicked, scuttling toward the stop and searching frantically for any sign of the Steelix.
“It’s okay, buddy,” I said, taking a deep breath. “We’ll figure something out. Promise.”
I looked around for directions, bus times, anything— when I heard a rumble.
“What the hell—” I stepped back toward Sheldon as the ground shook harder. Then, out from the earth, sprouted a giant golden leviathan. The bus.
“Hello there! Finch, I presume?” a voice called down. I looked up at the Steelix and noticed someone crawling out from under its hat.
“Shane Seeker?” I asked, flabbergasted. The man looked no older than twenty, but I knew he was closer to forty. He was the man who’d made shiny hunting my dream, who’d founded the school for hunters. He’d even met Ash Ketchum and battled alongside him once. He was my hero.
“That’s the name! Don’t wear it out!” He smiled. He was wearing baggy jeans and a paint-splattered white Pokéball shirt. His blond hair, longer than in his glory days, hung to his shoulders, and his oversized glasses nearly swallowed his face. On anyone else he’d look like a nerdy college student, but he was a multi-millionaire shiny Pokémon researcher.
“Did you catch the Flabébé?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, sir!” I said, holding up the Premier Ball. He laughed and looked at me like a proud teacher.
“A hunter must be ready to catch a—” he started.
“—shiny Pokémon at any time!” I cut him off, too excited. I immediately realized what I’d done and covered my mouth.
He grinned. “Who knows when it might appear,” he finished, winking. “You forgot that part. Now get on the bus.”
And one awkward bus ride later, I was here. At school. I’ll write more about the bus ride later, and about my first shiny identification class—as well as Pokémon care. I don’t really know why we have a bookkeeping class. The whole thing feels a little silly. Keep a book recapping my school experience? It feels a little pointless, but I suppose I shouldn’t complain. Mostly because this is for a grade.
Until next time,
- Finch W. Fitzwilliam, Hunter-in-training
