Chapter 31 – Day 13, Part 1: Hats Off

Chapter 31: Day 13, Part 1 – Hats off

Fenn had never seen water this dirty.

Something about the murkiness of the dark liquid was fascinating to the Quilava. It was a slurry concoction of waste from both the sea and port he was sitting on—all of which made it hard to see past the surface. The dark and gloomy clouds above helped coat the water with this deep blackness that was downright imposing. Fenn didn’t care to take a swim on most days, but the thought of swimming in water as putrid as this left a solid rock of disgust in his stomach.

It held his attention while he waited for Finch, at least. Just not enough to distract him from Cosmo, the purple Solosis resting in his arms. The little guy was humming a little tune as he asked Fenn questions about that book they were reading on the ride to Micle. All throughout the morning Cosmo quizzed the Quilava on his knowledge of Return to Two,out of some childlike desire to know everything about it. Fenn answered every question to the best of his ability.

“Who’s ‘Mitty?'” Cosmo wondered.

“Um…” Fenn muttered, gazing out at the boats as they came and went through the thick fog. “Mitty is this…Gliscor that Hydreigon meets. U-uh, I think she’s supposed to be someone that ends up being his friend later.” Fenn explained it with a slight smile, and simplified it as much as possible. Mainly due to the fact that he didn’t want to go into detail about some of the more “adult” aspects of the story. The book was really out of Cosmo’s age-range.

“Oh, okay,” Cosmo said. “She sounds really cool.”

She kind of was. Fenn thought she was a really interesting inclusion to the story. From what he had read, Mitty was a proper foil to Hydreigon, and they had a lot of banter together that Fenn greatly enjoyed. “Yeah…H-how much did you read, Cosmo?”

Cosmo hopped in Fenn’s arms a bit. “Cosmo read two pages!” he claimed. “What does ‘splitbrain whistledick’ mean?”

…Letting Cosmo read that book was probably a bad idea. “D-don’t say that again, Cosmo,” Fenn replied, his cheeks rapidly becoming a bright pink.

“Why not?”

Fenn sputtered, “I-it’s bad! It’s an insult—don’t say that to pokemon! You shouldn’t even know about it!” It was bad enough that he learned it from Fenn and not the other two…

“Oh…” Cosmo pouted. “Okay…Cosmo will not say it. But…but Oswald gets to say mean things all the time! Uncle Finch, too! Why can’t Cosmo?”

Uncle!? Fenn shook his head and promptly denied it. “Just…don’t, okay?” He didn’t even want to start thinking about how Cosmo had been irreparably infected by Finch and his foul mouth. He didn’t want to think of that croc as Cosmo’s uncle either. And in his attempts to get his mind off of it, Fenn gazed over to the other side of the port.

On the far side, a certain Dewott was currently holding his arms out for balance while he walked on the wooden stakes protruding from the water, which were keeping the wooden planks of the port upright. Oswald had been doing this nearly the entire time they were there waiting for Finch, and every time Fenn would spare a glance he was certain that Oswald would fall this time. Thankfully, he never did. The fire type eventually just had to stop looking because it would do nothing but make him worry.

The blush on his face was quickly drained after he caught sight of Oswald.

I’m really glad he didn’t hear any of that…

Fenn sighed to himself, letting his flame vents disperse a few pent up embers. The air was less humid compared to yesterday, which explained Fenn’s willingness to sit in the open like he was. It was still uncomfortable, but Fenn didn’t feel compelled to claw his own fur off like before.

Looking over, the Quilava could see Oswald once again wobbling as he struggled to maintain balance on one of the wooden stakes. Fenn sighed once more, despondently this time. Even as Cosmo asked more about the book, Fenn couldn’t get that…cold…sinking feeling to go away. Like he was doing something wrong…but he didn’t know what.

“Why does he have to go so far?” Cosmo wondered out loud, audibly more disgruntled.

“Because he doesn’t have any devolve orbs at home,” Fenn answered, a slight bit of annoyance in his voice. The fire type swore he had already answered that question…

Fenn couldn’t deny it anymore; though he tried his damndest to do so. Oswald had been acting strange all morning and Fenn didn’t know why. Acting aloof and choosing to spend his time waiting alone was one thing. Fenn didn’t mind that; Oswald deserved some time to himself. But Fenn was confused as to why Oswald was acting so distant at the same time. He kept avoiding Fenn’s eyes the entire time they were getting ready to leave, and he was a lot less talkative too! No jokes or teasing or sarcasm!

Is something the matter with him? Fenn thought. He was fine yesterday. Except for…when he…had a breakdown in the castle gardens…and…went to bed really early…

…Something is wrong, isn’t it? He won’t talk to me about it…but I’m sure it’s…oh, come on, Fenn. What are you doing? You had the chance to ask him about it but you just read your stupid book instead! If you didn’t read so many books you would never have-

“Why does Hydreigon need a second head anyways?” Cosmo asked in a grumpy voice. “Cosmo thinks it’s stupid!”

“Because he wants one,” Fenn said quickly. He was done trying to answer earnestly. He didn’t even chastise Cosmo for being so rude about it.

How do I fix this? Fenn thought in was like how pokemon kept lying to Hydreigon throughout the book. Some random stranger would tell him to go a certain way, only for that path to lead to a trap. Another character misled him because they thought he was going to cause problems, so a secondary character had to fix his mistakes before he made them.

Those moments always got to Fenn more than any other. So much so that flames burst from his forehead like an active volcano. When he’d read, his fists would clench the book as though he were about to tear the pages out one-by-one. He would grind his teeth in seething anger. Hydreigon is NOT a bad pokemon! He just wants to see his second head again! Why don’t they just give him help when he CLEARLY needs it? They’re all jerks! All of them! Why don’t they just…LISTEN! Is that so hard? He’s going through so much! Why don’t they just LISTEN FOR ONE SECO-

“If Hydreigon can do what he wants, then so can Cosmo! Hey, Fenn-“

Okay, that’s it- “WHAT?”

SPLASH!

HISSSSSS!

Cosmo’s shocked and frightened expression was the last thing Fenn saw before a deluge of water crashed into the Quilava’s face. His flames hissed before an outpouring of steam from his drenched forehead clouded his vision. It stung a small amount, but the surprise he got from being sprayed was more prevalent. He blinked. “W-wha…”

“Oops!” And there was Oswald’s voice. “Sorry about that…Fenn…heh heh. I was…practicing and I…have pretty bad aim…I guess. Heh…heh…”

Still wincing, Fenn shook his head to get some of the water off and fanned away the steam with his paws. When it cleared, Oswald was standing there. The Dewott was sporting a sheepish smile and rubbing the back of his head. “…That didn’t hurt, did it?” Oswald asked.

For a second time, Fenn blinked. “N-no…?” But that was a lie. Getting water in his vents was about as annoying as having a really bad stuffy nose. The chill slid down his body like ice—and not to mention, being wet tended to make Fenn feel all sluggish and slow. The initial impact hurt, but now Fenn was just inconvenienced.

It was a good thing Oswald wasn’t very good at using his Water Gun or else Fenn would’ve actually been in trouble. As much as Fenn respected Oswald, he did not for a second believe that the Dewott intentionally lowered his power with that attack, if at all. If he did, it was an accident. It would have hurt worse than being shot by a Hyper Beam point-blank if it was a fully powered water move.

“Well…sorry again,” Oswald said, approaching carefully. “Do you need a towel or something?” The look Oswald gave Fenn was the kind of look a guest would give a homeowner after breaking one of the homeowner’s family heirlooms and the guest was trying their best to fix it. In other words, Oswald tried incredibly hard to move past the fact that he just attacked his friend unprompted. “I mean, if you want me to…” Then Oswald looked away with that last statement, deliberately avoiding Fenn’s gaze.

Oh… The Quilava let his shoulders slump before wiping his face with a paw. “I dry off quickly,” he mumbled into his paw.

“Huh?” Oswald must not have heard him.

A sigh escaped Fenn’s pursed lips, but before he could bitterly repeat himself-

“Fenn dries off quickly!”

Cosmo said it first.

“Did you see his fire, Oswald? It was like, ‘fwoosh!'”

In response to Cosmo, Oswald’s sheepish smile became more genuine. He pointed with a finger and said, “I did, yeah! I’m mad at myself for ruining that, honestly. I always like it when your flames go really high, Fenn.”

Oswald, once again, avoided Fenn’s gaze. But this time…well, that compliment flustered Fenn more than he thought it would. Telling a fire type that their flames were bright and powerful was about the nicest thing someone could say to them. It was something that Fenn’s mother would always tell him before bed and something that his dad told him he had to earn. So naturally, “I-it’s fine, thanks,” was all Fenn could say.

“You know-” In the middle of his sentence, Oswald sat down next to Fenn. The red-in-the-face Quilava flinched, but he turned his head and kept his eyes on the water. “-oh, sorry,” Oswald said, clearly taking notice. “Probably should have asked first…”

Again, Fenn muttered a quiet “it’s fine” under his breath and scooted away a bit.

If Oswald was bothered by such an action, he didn’t bring it up. “…Anyways, I was gonna say that, you know, I could probably catch us some fish if we wanted.”

What?

That caught Fenn by surprise. More because he wasn’t expecting it coming from Oswald.

“Fish?” Cosmo asked confusedly. “Like water pokemon?”

“Yeah!” Oswald replied with an odd amount of excitement in his voice. “I can jump into the water right now and get us some food! Do you think the coast guard will mind?”

Okay, no- “O-Oswald?!” Fenn squealed, looking at the Dewott incredulously. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

“What? You don’t think I can do it?” He was smiling, but he made it sound like he was offended.

“No, just…” How was Fenn supposed to say that Oswald would fail spectacularly without sounding mean?

Cosmo hummed, “Hmm, Cosmo thinks Oswald is too weak to do that.” Or Cosmo could just say it, that works too.

“Too weak?!” Oswald balked. “What makes you say that?”

In a leery sounding voice, Cosmo told Oswald that, “These waters are eeeevil! Look at how dark it is! It would take a hero of awesome power to beat the beasts down there…”

Oswald crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “And let me guess. That hero-“

“It is Cosmo! He is the only one capable of besting these waters! And Cosmo can do what he wants! Because he is Cosmo!”

Even Oswald had to laugh at that. Fenn did too.

“Ha ha!” Oswald chuckled. “Oh Cosmo, what would we do without you?”

“I-I think we would be doomed,” Fenn noted, smiling brightly now.

“Yes, doomed! You would be doomed without Cosmo!” The Solosis then hesitated. “He can…he can do anything! Nothing can stop him!”

Oswald let out another laugh. “Don’t let me stop you, buddy.”

These kinds of moments always stuck with Fenn. Just a moment ago he lost his temper, but then Oswald came by and lightened the mood. How does he always manage to do that? Fenn wondered. The moment ended quickly, however, and the laughter settled as the three of them went quiet. Even still, Fenn saw that Oswald was looking out at the fog, a thoughtful look on his face.

…

…

It was in moments like these where Fenn wished he could be like Anemone.

“…Hey, Fenn?” And it was Oswald that broke the silence.

Fenn’s ears perked up. The sudden somber shift in Oswald’s voice caught him off guard. “Y-yeah?”

The scraggly water type shifted in his spot a bit before continuing. “Are there other continents out there? There’s water and boats so…I would think so.” He gestured to the sea ahead of him.

Had it not been for Oswald’s amnesia Fenn would have called that a silly question. But if he was being honest, Fenn was just glad Oswald was talking to him now. It kept his mind from wandering too much. “Uh, there are, yes,” Fenn muttered. “W-why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

Fenn frowned. Bit of a weird question to ask out of nowhere. Why Oswald suddenly cared, Fenn didn’t know. “There’s a lot more, a-actually. Blueline, Cashew, The Shard…”

Oswald blinked. “There’s a continent named ‘The Shard?'” Confusion flashed across his face. “Why is a continent called ‘Cashew?’ Wha…what’s the story behind that?”

“It’s a really funny one,” Fenn giggled. “It has to do with a folktale they have there. H-history isn’t my best subject, but I do know that there’s nine continents in total and they all have interesting stories behind their names.”

I wanna see his reaction when I tell him the story behind “Slushland.”

“…What’s the one we’re on called?”

“Enigma!” Cosmo blurted out with a smug look on his face. “Even Cosmo knows that.”

Oswald seemed surprised to hear that. He rubbed his chin in thought as he mumbled, “Enigma, huh. Okay, that makes sense now…”

Although, Fenn didn’t really hear him all that well. “W-what was that?”

“Nothing, nothing.” The Dewott shrugged it off. “You said there were nine of them, right?”

The fire type nodded. “Mhm. I’ve only really been on Enigma, th-though.” Fenn wasn’t lying when he said that. His knowledge of history wasn’t the most vast mainly because Fenn just prefered fiction when it came to reading. That isn’t to say he didn’t get a proper education—it was the opposite case, actually. Fenn knew a lot about how Enigma played into the grander scheme of the world. Like how it was the smallest out of all them and how it was generally considered to be the weakest militaristically. He didn’t care for politics, but some of the wars from way-back-when were interesting enough to pay attention to during his lectures.

Remembering some of those made Fenn feel quite nostalgic all of a sudden. Spending all of that time in Mrs. Petal’s class, learning about how The Duke of Tojunn won his title through a wrestling match or how Chordatum grew to twice its size in just a century. Although, plenty of his time in that class was also spent…fantasizing.

“Do you want to go to another?” Oswald asked suddenly, breaking Fenn out of his daydreams.

Fenn visibly flinched. “H-huh?” What were they talking about before?

It was obvious that Oswald was having a hard time articulating it, so he moved his arms around a lot to try and better get the idea across. “You know…just leave,” he said. “Go somewhere else.”

“Just…leave…?” What is he talking about? I mean, going somewhere else with Oswald sounded really nice. I know there’s some really neat places to visit in Orichalco. Shiroch’s a really nice tourist spot for fire types…not so much for water types…hmm…

“Why would you want to leave?” asked Cosmo.

The Dewott crossed his arms and scrunched up his face. A few moments passed where he didn’t say anything.

“…”

Fenn did not know why or how—there was a heaviness to the air around them that contributed to the already oppressive humidity brought on by the mist. Even fire types can overheat, and some even have ways to cool themselves. For some reason, Fenn’s body felt the need to sweat in anticipation. Imagining what Oswald would say next caused a spike in anxiety.

Finally, Oswald just said it—shook his head and scowled the whole way through. “Because then you can leave everything behind. Start over. No more lingering anxiety or pain, no more dungeons, no more guild, no more Anemone-” He looked Fenn dead in the eyes before saying the next bit. Oswald’s gaze was intense. “-and no more bad parents.”

“P-par-” That last point shocked Fenn more than any of the others. Deep down, Fenn knew Oswald was thinking it but he had no idea Oswald was even capable of bringing it up. And now that he had, Fenn’s thoughts immediately went to a place he had been pushing further back into his mind for the last day or so…

…I planned on going home tomorrow if I could.

Fenn’s body began to shake, stray embers puffed out of his forehead like parts of his subconscious escaping his mind, breaking down the walls he had set up. Going home was something Fenn knew he needed to do. But it was also something he dreaded immensely. Not to mention, the water type saying those words reminded him that Oswald himself offered to go with him.

Fenn…still didn’t know if he wanted Oswald to be there when he talked to his dad. After all…Fenn knew he could handle it. Why shouldn’t he be able to? He just needed to be in the right mindset for it and be the warrior he needed to be.

But what if he couldn’t be the warrior he wanted to be?

Fenn will be the one talking. Not…Fenrir.

And…oh geez, Fenn was rubbing his arm again. His ears were flat against his head…he was staring at the ground…his heart was pounding in his chest…he felt like throwing up…

Was he whimpering? No, he wasn’t. But he felt like whimpering.

I…I can’t handle this. Not right now. Oh Arceus, I can’t stop shaking.

“Hey, Fenn!” Oswald loudly pronounced all of a sudden. “Check this out!”

“H-huh?”

And then Oswald stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry.

“Hapfbffffpppttt!”

At that moment, Fenn did not know how to react to that. He jumped in surprise.

“HAppppffffpbbfftttt!”

And then Oswald did it again.

Fenn’s mind was going a mile a minute and trying to formulate any words was difficult. Anything he said just came out as, “Wha- w-wha- why…are you…wha- ah…”

“Pfffftttttt! Cosmo can do it too! Pffffttttt!”

And then Cosmo joined in! Both Oswald and Cosmo started taking turns puffing up their cheeks and sticking out their tongues as they made weird noises.

“Happffffbbbffffttt!”

“Pfffftttt!”

“HAFFPPBPPTT!”

“PFFFTTTT!”

Fenn felt like he was losing his mind. He just sat there, watching these two blow raspberries for a full minute before the dam fully broke; he couldn’t take it anymore. It was too stupid not make him start laughing uncontrollably. It was like Oswald and Cosmo’s stupid antics infected him and he couldn’t stop.

“Haha…ha…hehehehahaha!”

The Quilava laughed so hard that he fell onto his back and started rolling around in place. Oswald eventually joined him, his stupid noises quickly being overtaken by laughs of his own. He fell back with Fenn, holding his sides as his giggles filled the misty air. And then Cosmo, predictably, couldn’t keep it in either. His laughter outright overpowered his own latent hovering abilities and he fell right onto Oswald’s chest. Oswald was laughing too hard to even notice.

Now they were all laughing over stupid noises in the middle of a public port. The few pokemon that walked past gave them very perplexed looks. Needless to say, it was an interesting start to their day.

But it was just that—the start. The whistling of a nearby croc would be the transition into the rest of their day.

“Alright!” That was Finch’s voice. “Fart noises are very funny, but we’ve got a job to do. So get up!”

Now laying next to each other, Oswald and Fenn looked into each other’s dazed eyes. Both misty and bright—a far cry from how they were just a few minutes ago. Fenn in particular hadn’t noticed how close they were, and he felt a familiar warmth in his cheeks creeping in. Though before either could comment on it, Oswald held Cosmo on both of his sides then pushed himself up to a sitting position. “Alright, buddy,” he grunted. “Time to get up.”

“Finally!” Cosmo rejoiced, bouncing into the misty air. “Cosmo was so bored!“

It took Fenn an extra second. If he was being honest with himself, he had no idea what exactly just happened. He went from having a panic attack to laughing so hard that it hurt. By the time Fenn was back on his feet, Oswald and Cosmo were already up and facing Finch. Fenn rubbed down his slightly matted fur as he padded over.

The first thing Fenn noticed about Finch was that he had his claws on his hips and was lacking that good-natured derision he tended to have when he talked. The Krokorok looked the trio over and frowned. “For the love of Darkrai’s shadow…” Finch shook his head in indignation. “I never noticed how…soft you two look.”

Oswald and Fenn exchanged bewildered glances. Soft…? Fenn thought, confused. What does that mean?

Maybe it was how skinny they both were and the fact that they were lugging around a literal child…or maybe it was because they both looked like they just fell into a dirty puddle right after getting four hours of sleep collectively. Fenn could still feel the crick in his neck after waking up earlier.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Oswald finally asked skeptically.

Finch sighed, pinching the bridge of his snout. “It is if you’re not going to wear any clothes. It’s too late to go get some now and you’re not going to be wearing those scarves of yours.” The croc pointed at his own neck and made a cutting motion.

The second thing that Fenn noticed was that Finch didn’t have his badge wrapped around his arm like yesterday. Earlier, Finch slipped the purple piece of cloth into Fenn’s bag and Fenn didn’t think anything of it; he presumed that it was just so it wouldn’t get wet or something.

Oswald tentatively touched the purple scarf around his neck, tugging at the thin fabric before asking, “Why do you say that?”

Finch furrowed his brow, shooting a quick glance at Cosmo of all pokemon. “Because the pokemon we’re gonna talk to aren’t…big fans of The Queen. They all know what someone from that castle looks like—and it’s all because of those colors you’re wearing.” He groaned. “…Though I’m sure they’ll figure it out pretty quickly anyways. At least it’ll take five seconds instead of one. Just stay close to me when we head inside, alright?”

There was a moment’s hesitation between both Fenn and Oswald. In particular, Fenn mainly delayed taking his off because doing so made him feel…unclean. Naked. Fenn hadn’t even noticed that he had gotten so attached to it. Throughout all of the weirdness and turmoil, his scarf stayed wrapped around his neck as a reminder that he had managed to accomplish something. It was quite motivating, as it turned out.

Giving it to Oswald a few days ago also felt strangely intimate, which Fenn hadn’t anticipated. So taking it off here felt wrong.

As for Oswald, he decided to vocalize his discomfort. “You sure took your time, Finch,” he noted pointedly. “What’s the deal? Had some trouble?”

Fenn was curious about that too. It was odd to him how Finch went off on his own after they spent all of that time looking yesterday.

“I needed to make sure Turaco was here today,” Finch explained.

And that was not the explanation Fenn was expecting. His gaze shot over to Finch and his lips parted slightly. Why did Finch need to make sure? Did he know that Turaco was here? Fenn knew that Finch was taking over after Oswald couldn’t find Turaco yesterday, but he wasn’t expecting him to know exactly where the Heliolisk was. Why did Finch never say anything about that?

Oswald’s eyebrows raised. “Are you saying that there was a chance that he wouldn’t be here? Like, in this city, you mean?”

Well that would be terrible. I don’t want to go back to the castle empty handed. But…how would Finch even know where a wanted drug dealer is located exactly ?

Finch hummed and that was followed by a quick response. “Mmmmm potentially. Anyhoot, I got a bit distracted. Sorry about that.” And that response was followed by a shrug of his shoulders.

Fenn’s ear flicked and he heard a faint “this is so scuffed” from under Oswald’s breath.

Out of the corner of Fenn’s vision, Cosmo bounced forward. “Does Cosmo need to change his bubble too?” Cosmo asked.

Finch snapped his fingers and pointed at the little Solosis. “No, you don’t. You’re not coming in with us.”

Both Fenn and Oswald objected to that almost immediately. “You don’t get to decide that for us, Finch,” Oswald said with a frown.

“W-we’re not leaving him out here on his own!” Fenn cried, rubbing his arm.

That earned an exasperated sigh from the croc. “You know, I’m doing you a favor here. The least you can do is meet me halfway.”

“The least you can do-” Fwump! Oswald’s tail slapped the ground behind him. Apparently, that tail slap caught even Oswald by surprise. He stopped to look over his shoulder, then slowly turned his gaze back to the croc. His voice lowered in tandem. “…Listen, I just don’t trust this place.”

Neither did Fenn, evidently. There was no chance in distortion that he would let Cosmo be left alone in this city.

“You’re right, you’re right,” Finch conceded, holding up his claws in surrender. Then he pointed his toothy snout at the Solosis. “I should ask Cosmo what he wants to do! My bad.”

That wasn’t what-

“That’s not what I meant, Finch.”

…Yeah, what Oswald just said.

As much as Fenn wanted to tell Finch off…he was also willing to leave it up to Oswald. Just…Fenn locked up again. He had a feeling that even if he tried to voice his opinion, Finch would convince him to do something he would regret later. Oswald was better at this anyways; he could handle it.

“Still. Don’t you want to know what he wants to say?” Finch questioned, nodding at Cosmo.

Now all eyes were on Cosmo, and the little purple ball of psychic energy never looked more small. “Um…” Cosmo murmured. “C…Cosmo…wants to…um…” In between Cosmo biting his lip and struggling to focus on one of the three pokemon around him, it was obvious that he was having a hard time figuring out what to say.

Fenn tried his best to be supportive and gave him a warm smile. “T-take your time, Cosmo,” he said quietly.

It was only after Fenn caught Cosmo’s attention that the Solosis had an apparent epiphany. Cosmo swung around and gasped. “Ooh! Ooh! Cosmo knows!” Zoop! Within a moment’s time, Cosmo zipped through the air and dived into Fenn’s shoulder bag. “Here!” he exclaimed. “Cosmo found the solution!” The flap of the bag closed behind him. It was like he was never there.

It happened so quickly that Fenn had no time to react. He flinched, unsure of what just happened, then stared down at the closed bag, blinking. I…guess that works.

“Well, there you go!” Finch clapped his claws together. “Now you don’t have to worry.”

“Yeah,” Oswald scoffed, unfastening his badge, “we won’t have to worry now.”

Oh right. Fenn got to work removing his badge as Oswald and Finch kept talking.

Finch scratched his chin. “Alright. Not sure if you figured this out yet—I would be surprised if you haven’t—there’s going to be sketchy characters up ahead.” He pointed over his shoulder at the collection of buildings behind him.

There were four buildings or so lined up next to each other, practically conjoined into one long building. All with large windows and boxy, brick foundations. There was one building that looked to be abandoned, a tackle shop, a…dry cleaners (Fenn had never seen anything like that before in his entire life), and a diner named “Perlshine.” Even compared to the rest of the city, this block was about as unassuming as a collection of services could be; they had to be at the edge of Micle’s land space.

It was no coincidence that Finch told them to wait here, one block away from where ships come and go out of the city. But Fenn assumed that they were waiting for a ship this whole time. The fact that they were going in the opposite direction threw him for a loop.

Oswald smirked. “I don’t suppose we’re taking the guy out fishing, are we?”

“Tsk! I wish. No, we’re going into Perlshine.” He turned, then motioned for the two of them to follow.

As Fenn began to walk after Finch, Oswald fell in line next to Fenn and slipped his badge into a pocket on the side of the Quilava’s shoulder bag. Afterwards, he leaned in close and whispered, “Which building is it?”

Slipping his own badge into a pocket next to the one Oswald put his in (and feeling a shiver go up his spine at the prospect of being so naked all of a sudden), Fenn pointed to the second building from the right. “That one,” he whispered back.

Oswald chuckled. “It’s pretty obvious now that you say that, thanks. Just making sure.”

It really was. The big painted sign with pink letters and a pink pearl painted next to them gave it away enough as is, but it was also the most occupied out of all of them. Of course, that wasn’t saying much. It was still very early in the morning.

“So, what do you mean by ‘sketchy characters?”’ Oswald said to Finch in a louder voice.

“Do you really need me to explain what I meant?”

With an energetic hop in his step, Oswald ran forward and spun around to face Finch. That didn’t even stop the croc from moving, so Oswald kept pace, talking while walking backwards. “That depends. How bad does it get?” The otter’s gaze shifted from Finch to Fenn and back to Finch.

Finch seemed to always have this relaxed swagger to him when he walked, and Oswald’s challenging words made no difference. It did make him stop in his tracks, though. Oswald did the same, his foot tapping impatiently.

A short distance away, Fenn watched on in anxious silence. His ears flicked, trying to catch everything they would say. Even if he knew that he wasn’t supposed to hear, he still wanted to know. Being left out never felt good.

“Urgh…” A low growl seeped out of Finch’s throat. “Fine. Thieves and drug dealers—no murderers. They have a bounty system going on.”

A bounty system sounded very concerning to Fenn…and was also a relief. But still, Thieves and drug dealers…that didn’t sound good. “Th-they sound like bad pokemon,” Fenn spoke up.

Finch scoffed, seemingly not surprised to see that Fenn had been listening in. “Just because they do bad things doesn’t mean they’re ‘bad’ pokemon. Poor circumstances, that’s all it is.”

And how would you know…

Almost as if he read his mind, Oswald was wondering about something similar. “And how big is your bounty, Finch?” the Dewott asked with only a slight amount of accusation in his voice.

Finch laughed deeply. “You act like you’ll ever cash it out, Ozzy!” He patted Oswald on the shoulder as he passed. “Funny guy! Funny, funny! Haha!”

It didn’t take long for Fenn to catch up and stop next to a peeved Oswald, who only watched as Finch walked off. “Funny he says…” Oswald muttered under his breath. After a quick glance to confirm Fenn still was there, he started walking again.

As did Fenn. Though that didn’t last long; the bar was right there. As they neared closer, Fenn’s flame vents sparked anticipation.

So…we’re going into a place full of criminals and we’re walking out with only one of them. It was only after they reached the door and stepped inside did Fenn realize that he was trembling. Not because he was worried, no; he was anything but scared. Fenn knew he could handle this. To him, this was more like one of those anxious moments before a test would start. I can’t fail…I won’t fail. I can beat them all up if I have to. I’m a…I’m a warrior. No…I’m not worried-

Dang, Fenn was rubbing his arm again. Put your arm down and focus on something else, Fenn told himself. Like…how this doesn’t look like a bar for criminals…at all.

What? Wait a second, Perlshine wasn’t even a bar at all. It was a sleepy diner! Just like Altaria’s except instead of it being populated with guild pokemon it was filled with nothing except old pokemon. Why did he assume it was a bar after seeing with his eyes that it was a diner?

…Have I been reading too many wild frontier stories?

Old Miltank behind the counter…four, maybe five patrons, all older than Fenn’s parents, and the slow sound of silverware clinking against plates. So…less populated than Fenn initially thought. If this was where Turaco was at the moment…where was everybody else?

Well, Fenn wasn’t trembling anymore. He mumbled to the others, “I-I don’t see a Heliolisk.” Or anyone below the age of fifty, for that matter.

“Do we need to order flapjacks or something?” Oswald sneered sarcastically.

“Don’t know what a ‘flapjack’ is,” Finch smirked. “That an off-continent thing? Slushland?”

Oswald awkwardly cleared his throat. “Uh…yeah. It’s uh…what I call pancakes…sometimes.”

“Pancakes? Really?” Finch didn’t sound convinced.

Oswald nodded.

“…Right.” Although his narrowed eyes stayed trained on the Dewott for a few more tense seconds, Finch let it go. His clawed toes clicked against the tiled floor as he walked to the back of the establishment. “Keep up.”

So, they wouldn’t be meeting Turaco out here? They went right past the bathrooms in the back and opened a door at the end of the hall. From there, Fenn and Oswald watched as Finch walked down a set of filthy stairs. Today sure was full of twists.

Fenn smelled the stuffiness of the condensation on the walls. A few embers puffed out from his forehead and the moldy stone saw more light than it probably had in years. Definitely a far cry from anything back in his home village; only now was it starting to hit the Quilava how out-of-his-element he really was.

“Secret basement, huh?” Oswald sighed under his breath. “Come on, man…”

How much did Oswald actually know about this? Clearly, he knew more than Fenn. Was he as nervous as Fenn, though? “What’s d-down there, Oswald?”

Stupid question… Fenn started rubbing his arm again…

The water type finally lifted his foot and started his descent down the stairs. “What we’re looking for, apparently,” Oswald said.

Looking down, Fenn noted that the steps were awkwardly spaced for a long-bodied pokemon on two legs like a Quilava. Perhaps they weren’t designed for smaller pokemon, or most pokemon, really. An Aggron would have a tough time fitting into this hallway.

Regardless, Fenn managed. He had to account for the Solosis in his bag, after all. Paw on the wall and one step at a time, Fenn briefly considered why they were here in the first place. It made no sense to him, really—to walk in and cheri-pick one troublemaker and leave the others. There were bad pokemon past that rusty door at the bottom of the stairs. Not murderers, sure, but law breakers and evil pokemon, still. He should barge in and burn the place down!

Fwoosh!

“Got a problem, Hot Stuff?”

…Darn flames…

Fenn bit the inside of his lip. “N-no,” he muttered, his voice reverberating off the walls, “it just…feels like a waste to only turn in one of th-the outlaws in there.”

The croc was a few steps away from the base of the rusty door. With his claws on his hips and his tail swaying slowly behind him, he glanced at Oswald, a few steps above him. “You didn’t tell him anything, did you?” Finch growled.

Oswald froze in place, his shoulders raised and tense. “I, uh…told him a little…bit.”

…Is there more I don’t know about? Arceus, it’s like I’ve been in the dark all morning! Fenn’s fire was only rising higher.

Despite Finch seeing the fire get more intense, he didn’t panic or try to calm the Quilava down. Instead, he shook his head. “We’re not turning anybody in. Oh, and your new names for this morning are Oliver and Felix. Almost forgot. Don’t let that slip.”

“…What?” Fenn whispered in disbelief. His flames weren’t going down.

With his shoulders still tense, Oswald slowly gazed over his shoulder at Fenn. “Fenn…uh-“

Kachunk!

Oswald didn’t get a chance to reply. The door ahead had several rectangular slots, and almost all of them were closed. The second one from the top, however, had opened up. A pair of beady, black eyes peered through. “I heard talking,” a voice said from the other side. “Password?”

Much to Fenn’s surprise, Finch turned around and answered without hesitation. “Potoo loves his children—a father to all, an uncle to many. The one true king.”

The eyes narrowed. “Hey…you were just here.”

Finch shrugged. “I brought friends this time.”

“So you say…”

Kachunk!

The opening then closed.

Click! Creeeeak!

The door opened; with it, clamoring voices spilled into the hallway. On the other side, a tall Tangrowth stood to the side, holding the door open. “Welcome back to Clamperl’s Dream.”

Finch snapped his fingers, motioning for Fenn and Oswald to follow. “Too late now,” he grumbled, his words being nearly drowned out by the rough and loud voices on the other side of that door. “Come on, Oliver and Felix.” And then Finch just…walked in. Casually. Like he’d been in there before…

“…” With his flames now doubled in height, Fenn bore a hole into Oswald’s head with his eyes.

Moving was undoubtedly not on Oswald’s mind during that moment. He looked like he had just been struck by a bolt of lightning—and he didn’t dare move from his spot on the stairs. His fur stood on end, as did his whiskers, and his face was left in the state of a perpetual grimace.

Fenn’s death glare may as well have been burning the Dewott alive.

But after a few more uncomfortable seconds Oswald finally took it upon himself to fix the mess he made. He looked Fenn in the eyes, held up his paws as if to tell the Quilava that he wouldn’t hurt him, and said, “…I’ll explain later. Just…let’s just follow Finch.”

Fenn didn’t think Oswald did a good job of fixing anything. In fact, those words of his might have actually made things worse for him.

What did you agree to, Oswald? Why didn’t you tell me what we would be doing?

“Are you two gonna stand there checking each other out all day?” the Tangrowth impatiently butted in. “Get inside already! Geez!”

Well, Finch was right about one thing: it was too late to turn back now. Oswald was just going to have to explain how he managed to lead them here. It wasn’t by accident, that was for sure. You don’t just end up in a bar full of criminals locked behind a door in the basement of a diner on the shore of the continent by accident, Fenn thought bitterly. That’s not how that works.

Regardless, Oswald went first and kept his head down as he walked through the open doorway. Unlike Oswald, though—with his bad posture—Fenn kept his back straight and flames even straighter. The second any lowlife would try to make a move on them, Fenn would be ready to scorch them alive.

“Yikes, my ‘mon!” the Tangrowth howled. “Keep that mohawk under control! Almost burned me!”

Fenn wasn’t in the best mood for courtesy.

What was there to say about “Clamperl’s Dream?” It was dirty, loud, smelled of smoke and alcohol, and overall gave Fenn a headache. Hard, splintered wood floors and walls, tables with an inconsistent amount of chairs, a bar with a Cinderace wiping down mugs behind the counter—and more.

There was a dart board with a crudely made picture of what was probably Anemone in the center. It was riddled with darts. There was also a pool table in the corner of the room. Half of the balls were missing, and Fenn watched as the first shot was taken by a gruff Grapploct with a broken pool cue.

The pokemon at this bar were something else, too. The dress code was still in effect, but it was as though no one was told that they were supposed to keep their own clothes maintained. Some barely had any clothes on at all, while others like one particularly rowdy Croconaw were wearing shaggy vests and bandanas. Said Croconaw even had a sword—a sword—haphazardly poking through his belt without any regard for his own safety—let alone the safety of others. One Sandslash wore a headband while a large Garchomp wore full-on metal armor.

They laughed and told crude jokes; some were missing limbs or an eye; a group of them started to slur a sea shanty. And all before noon.

They had a word for pokemon like these, the ones that live to cause trouble on and near the sea: pirates. Fenn was in a bar full of pirates.

The blazing fire type all of a sudden didn’t feel very naked anymore, especially after learning that he wouldn’t have to fight any of these pokemon for some reason; all of that anxiety was sapped away and he could walk straight. Despite this, he definitely still felt like he stuck out. The ways they looked at him as he passed…there was judgment, but also an odd yet appropriate amount of fear, in their eyes. A different experience compared to the castle, that was for certain.

Ironically, the same couldn’t be said for Oswald.

He was jumpy and all sorts of fidgety. Every time a puff of smoke from a pipe flew into his face, the Dewott’s whole body would react and he would get even paler than he already was. They snipped at him and laughed, treating Oswald like he was a frightened feral locked in a cage.

Good. Oswald shouldn’t feel safe here. It’s for the best.

After a ragged Shiftry spooked Oswald and laughed at his squeals, Fenn was right behind him and made the bastard grass type cower back with his piercing gaze. Afterwards, the Shiftry went back to his drink like nothing happened. This happened a few more times until Finch led the two of them to a table towards the back, where a certain Heliolisk was seated…

“Snapper Finch!” the Heliolisk grinned, pointing at the Krokorok as he approached. “These the schmucks you were talkin’ about?”

Finch pulled up a chair and sat down without waiting for either Fenn or Oswald to do the same. His tail sat flat on the floor, unmoving. “These are the schmucks,” Finch said. He looked over his shoulder and lazily swayed his arm from side-to-side in Fenn and Oswald’s direction. “Felix, Oliver, meet Turaco.”

So this is Turaco… It was hard for Fenn to meet the Heliolisk’s gaze with anything less than suspicion. Turaco was well-dressed for a supposed drug-dealer. He wore an orange striped vest on top of a clean and collared white shirt, a black bow tie, black slacks, and a flat-topped white hat with a short brim and orange and white stripes at the base. That said, he still had quite the sneaky smirk, and his voice sounded like it fit a Rattata better than a Heliolisk.

“Well,” Turaco squeaked, wringing his hands, “have a seat, fellas!”

They did just that, though both Fenn and Oswald were hesitant. Fenn even considered forgoing being polite and standing instead. Ultimately, though, he sat next to Oswald despite his own reservations. He stayed on high alert, though: rear half-off the chair, flames still ignited.

“So, what brings you boys here?” Turaco started. Though he quickly cut everybody off before they had the chance to speak. “No, no, wait! Don’t tell me! I think I know…

“You’re here for the groovy goodies,” he said while gyrating his head across his shoulders. “The yummy gummi’s. Billie’s squishies? How about the chewies from the bluies?” He nodded complacently. “Yeah, I’ve got ’em.”

“Er…” Finch scratched his chin. “Here, Ollie.” The croc tapped a spot on the table near Oswald. “Go on, I’ll let you tell him.”

Oswald, who previously seemed uncomfortable, grew offended and reacted accordingly. “OLLIE!? Are you freaking kidding m-” He stopped himself, glaring at Finch. “Fine. Uh…Turaco, right? …I already knew that- ignore that question. We’re here for your…hat.”

“…My hat?”

“…Yeah. We uh…need your hat.”

Is that…is that what Finch meant? Was that it? Fenn was in such disbelief that he audibly exhaled in exasperation. He wondered if Finch genuinely thought that Lace and Ipo would accept that. Why did they come to this place at all? They could just go buy a hat!

Turaco took his hat off, and turned it around in his hands. He looked just as confused as he sounded. “Well, I don’t know about that. This is my favorite hat! Why do you need it? Tired of the nudist lifestyle?”

Oswald sputtered, his cheeks growing red, “No, I- wait, I mean-“

Before Oswald could dig himself an even bigger hole, Finch stepped in. “Alright, nevermind,” he said quickly. “Turaco, do you know about the price on your head?”

The lizard snorted and placed the hat back on top of his head. “Yeah, 2.5k. Barely worth looking into, don’t worry—I’m safe.” His cheeky grin quickly dissipated, however. “Wait, why do you care?”

With a snap of his fingers, Finch pointed right at Fenn. “Hey, Felix, still have the paper?”

It took Fenn a moment to realize that he was being spoken to. His attention was torn and he wasn’t used to this fake name Finch gave him. Wordlessly, Fenn reached down to open his shoulder bag, his eyes flicking back up to glance at Turaco occasionally. There was still no telling as to what this crook was capable of.

Oop. There’s Cosmo. He was still in the bag. The little Solosis grinned up at Fenn. “Hi, Fenn!” he whispered.

“H-hi.” Fenn gave him a slight smile and a small wave back. “Excuse me…just gonna…”

“Oh- okay.” Cosmo scooted aside as Fenn reached a paw into the bag and pulled out a folded piece of paper. As Fenn pulled his arm back, Cosmo whispered, “Bye!”

“Bye, Cosmo…” Fenn said quietly. He gave the psychic bubble one more wave before shutting the bag flap on his little face. Now with the job flier in paw, Fenn slid it across the table to Finch. “Here.”

“Thank you, Felix,” Finch said as he took the paper and unfolded it on the table. Soon after sliding it closer to Turaco so he could see, Finch tapped the table with his claw.

Tap tap tap!

“Look. It has your name on it and everything.”

Disbelief flashed across Turaco’s face. This had to have been quite the shock for the well-dressed lizard. To be accosted not only in a place for relaxation but by a supposed friend—or at least acquaintance—as well. Hesitantly, he lifted the paper to his eyes, and shakily exchanged glances with every member of the three ‘mon party. “W-where did you get this?” Turaco breathed.

Were they supposed to lie about where they got it? It seemed awfully negligent of Finch to bring Oswald and Fenn into this bar and expect them to not let it slip that they were members of the castle guild. After all, Fenn sure as heck wasn’t going to lie. Oswald would have to do it.

The Dewott in question was sitting there with his mouth agape, his brain slowly processing the question he was asked. “Uh…” He might as well have been drooling, too.

Finch cleared his throat. “Ahem!”

That did it. Oswald finally shook his head and lied through his teeth. “Sorry, I had a bit of a moment there,” he said. “We’re from West Enigma.”

“West?” Turaco wondered, almost in a panic. “You mean like Rabuta? You come from Rabuta?”

Rabuta was the city in Enigma with the famous arena, Fenn remembered. His father brought it up from time-to-time. Mostly, he would talk about how that section of Enigma was overrun with rebels during the Psychic Wars. The Volcano himself was the tip of the spear that led the charge in getting it back towards the end of the wars. So yes, Fenn was familiar with it. He could probably convince someone that he came from there if he had to. Not that he’d ever want to; his true home was around Kebia.

Oswald nodded slowly. “Yeah…we’ve come a long way. So we’d like it if you just—hand over your hat so we can get going.”

Obviously, it wasn’t that simple. Even Fenn didn’t have the innocence to believe that it was. Turaco blinked several times like he was being told to jump off a cliff. “Wait wait wait, then you’d be telling them that I’m dead! I can’t stick around after that! That’s bad for business!”

“The illegal drug business,” Oswald retorted sharply.

Finch clicked his tongue in a stern manner. “Ollie…”

Oswald wasn’t having it. He had a point to make, apparently. “No, no, seriously,” he said with a paw in Finch’s direction, “this guy is selling illegal drugs to criminals. We’re basically doing him a favor here by getting to him first.”

With his exasperation quickly turning into annoyance, Turaco rolled his eyes. “Oh not this crap again. Finch, what’d you bring this guy to me for?” Before Finch had the chance to answer, he turned on Oswald. “Listen, there would not even be a problem if me selling my Gummi’s was not a crime to begin with! Pokemon need this stuff!”

What? The intensity of Fenn’s flames decreased in confusion. What does that mean?

Again, Oswald was thinking the same thing. His eyes narrowed. “…What do you mean by that?” Oswald asked in suspicion.

“You know, former ferals need it to keep from regressing. And not just the ferals; regular pokemon with mental issues need them too. It’s fine for some pokemon, but that’s not what the queen will tell ya.”

This was news to Fenn. His flames spiked in rhythm with his blinking. Every time he’s ever heard of Gummi’s it was always in a negative light. They were drugs. Bad drugs that ruin a pokemon’s brain. They couldn’t possibly help a pokemon, could they? This guy was just lying.

Oswald leaned back in disbelief. “Wait, what? What do you mean by ‘former ferals…?'” His voice became quiet towards the end there.

Finch answered for him: “Ollie, if you take a feral out of its natural habitat and feed it Gummi’s, it’ll learn to be more like us. Or something along those lines. I knew a few guys that had to take the stuff. Strange pokemon, most of the time, but not hopeless.”

“See?” Turaco said, pointing at Finch and raising his eyebrows at Oswald. “What he said. You been living under a rock, kid?”

Oswald was ignoring Turaco. “What, like…you take a feral out of a dungeon…?” he timidly questioned Finch.

That earned a shake of the head from Finch. “Never heard of a feral leaving a dungeon before,” he said plainly. “Most of the ones I met came from the wilderness.”

At this point, Fenn’s flames were dancing on his head sporadically. Hearing all of this was like opening a locked box he was told not to open for his entire life. Fenn’s father always said that feral pokemon were no better than pests. And to think that the…ones he killed could have been just like him under the right circumstances…

…No, there was no way. This guy was lying. He had to be. Turaco was just another scumbag in a bar full of other scumbags. Why would he say these things except to convince the three of them to get off his back? Fenn’s flames steadied and he took a deep breath. If there was a chance for the wild pokemon he encountered to become civilized, then why did no one ever tell him? Why did none of the books he read mention it? It simply wasn’t possible.

Meanwhile, Oswald was falling for it. His eyes were wide and distant, and he stared down at the table in utter shock. “Those Aipom…” Oswald murmured. “Shit…”

Fenn thought he saw a glistening in Oswald’s eyes. But before he could confirm anything, the Dewott rubbed his face and sat up straight.

“Now listen to me, Finch,” Turaco started again, visibly agitated, “these pokemon here need me. Okay? I don’t know what your goal here was, but you tell these little poké scouts to go get on somebody else’s business.”

“Urgh…” Finch growled under his breath, his tail twitching uncomfortably. “Alright, this is gonna cost me. Turaco, I reserved you a spot on a boat offa Enigma. Croconaw named Tusk over there—” he pointed at the rowdy croc Fenn saw earlier, “—he’s heading to Blueline. Tell him Finch sent you.”

Turaco’s demeanor shifted almost immediately. “Wait, you got me a ride?” The Heliolisk’s agitation turned to intrigue. Though it quickly became apparent that a ride off the continent would not be enough for the lizard. “That sounds great, but what about the pokemon here?” He gestured to the bar around him. “If I left there would be a few complications; pokemon need their Gummi’s.”

“You let me figure that out,” Finch explained with a smirk. “Snapper Finch knows who to talk to. Why do you think I came to you for this? I know what I’m doing.”

…He had this all planned out, didn’t he? That had to have been why he took so long earlier. Finch found Turaco, reserved him a ride out of Micle, and found a way to keep the business going. All without having to start a fight. Fenn was still leery about letting a criminal go and continuing to perpetuate a dangerous cycle, but he sure was impressed.

That said, he wasn’t going to let this happen again. Fenn just didn’t want to go back to the castle after two days with nothing to show for it. No, none of this sat well with him at all. If his father found out that he was not only lying to earn his pay but also helping dangerous pokemon…Fenn did not want to think about it.

Hopping up and down in his chair in glee, Turaco laughed. “Haha! That works for me! I wanted to get out of here anyways. All of this ‘human’ stuff was freaking me out!”

Before he had the chance to take his hat off, though, Oswald shot up and practically spat the words out. Even Fenn wasn’t expecting Oswald to speak up so suddenly. “Wait- hold on, what? What do you know about the ‘human stuff?'”

Finch, who was already looking like he was ready to get going, gave Oswald a disappointed look. “Ollie…” he groaned in displeasure.

“No, no!” Oswald pleaded, casting wide-eyed glances between Turaco and Finch. “Look, I’m just curious! I wanna know what this is about after that gang hit Colbur.”

Fenn’s flames gleamed less so now that the topic had changed, and he grew nonplussed by Oswald’s insistence. He was curious too, to be fair. But not to the degree that Oswald was; this was just strange.

“Whoa, mon!” Turaco held up his hands defensively. “What makes you think I know anything! I heard about it and didn’t want anything to do with it!”

“Please, just…anything.” Oswald sounded desperate when he said that. “I wanna know.”

Turaco scratched his chin in thought before finally deciding to say what was on his mind. “Well…I could tell ya something, on one condition.”

“What is it?”

To Fenn’s complete and utter surprise, Turaco shot him a side-eye. “You tell your friend here to stop giving me the stink eye,” he said. “I don’t appreciate that very much.”

Fenn’s flames only grew higher. As embarrassing as it might have been to be singled out like he was, it really only made Fenn more angry. Turaco wasn’t really in the best spot to be making demands.

But unfortunately, Oswald’s insistence beat out any desire to side with Fenn on this one. He turned to the Quilava and grimaced. “Fenn…please?” the Dewott begged, his body stiff, his whiskers twitching.

And the flames burned even brighter. Not white hot yet, but pretty dang close.

Why was Oswald acting like this? Ever since this morning something’s been off. It even got to the point where Fenn couldn’t help but feel like Oswald was outright looking past him—at something else entirely. It felt like…betrayal. Yeah, that was the word. Well- Fenn knew there was no way it was that bad, but that didn’t make his flames cool down.

Still, as perturbed as this whole day has made him, Fenn wanted to be there for Oswald. If this was what he wanted…then fine. Fenn would comply. After all, that was what he told Finch yesterday: Fenn trusted Oswald. He had a reason for being so…weird.

So, so weird.

With a deep breath, Fenn tried his best to calm himself so his flames would go down. They didn’t—not entirely. Regardless, the thought was there. He turned his head and looked away, a frown still on his face. Hopefully that was enough.

Seemed like it was. A moment later, Turaco started up again. Fenn could see the electric type leaning forward in his seat out of the corner of his eye. “Alright, let me make this quick,” Turaco said in a lower voice. “Down south there’s a town called Hopo Town in between the halfway point to Hondew and Hondew City itself. Small town, not many pokemon there. But, there’s a general store run by a Bisharp named Iris there. Talk to her and tell her that Turaco sent you. She’ll help ya from there. Got it? I can’t tell you much more.”

Oswald nodded along. “Hopo Town…Hopo Town…Bisharp…Iris…Iris…got it.”

“Good.” Fenn glanced over just in time to see Turaco gently place his hat down on the table with both hands. He then clapped his hands together and told the three of them in a cheery voice, “Well, it was good doing business with you boys! Now I got a boat to catch! Blueline here I come!” Just like that, the lizard hopped off of his chair and skipped over the other side of the bar, leaving Fenn, Oswald, and Finch all on their own.

With no hint of hesitation, Finch reached forward and picked up the hat. He spun it in his claw, smirking. “Well, would you look at that? Mission complete, eh?”

Oswald sighed despondently. “…Let’s just get back to the castle,” he muttered. Looking over now Fenn couldn’t help but notice that just as he turned his head back to the group, Oswald quickly looked down at the table.

Staring in silence was all Fenn could think to do. Not much else to say. They finished their mission. Time to go back.

…Why did Fenn’s heart feel so hollow? Even his flame vents went cold when he realized it was time to leave. At least it was over. Maybe tomorrow they could take a break or do something less stressful. Or…oh, right.

I guess…I’m going home tomorrow…

---

Oo-oO

“What in Giratina’s horrific backyard is this? What did you bring me?”

“That’s a hat. Belonged to the Heliolisk on this job flier here.”

Ipo the Simipour gazed down at the white and flat-topped hat on the counter in disbelief. He blinked once, twice, thrice. “Do- you want me to pay you for this?” Ipo questioned.

Finch half shrugged as he leaned on the counter across from the water monkey. “That’s the idea,” he said. “Too bad the poor bastard didn’t survive. I woulda brought you his corpse, but—alas—he’s at the bottom of the ocean now.”

I had to wonder if Finch thought that was a genuine excuse when I was standing right there. Like- okay, it didn’t really matter. My muscle mass was downright pathetic so I doubt I could pull Turaco out. And honestly, I knew that wasn’t even the biggest problem here.

“Wha- buddy. What do you expect me to do with a hat? I can’t confirm shit with this. Are you serious?”

Yep. There it is. Knew I never should have listened to Finch.

“How else am I supposed to let you know that the job is done, hm? What if he died on his own and no one turned it in?”

“Then it expires after a while and we put it back up if we get word that he’s still around!”

“Oh for the love of…we still did the job! Half pay!”

“No!”

“Quarter pay!”

“NO!”

Finch slammed his claws on the counter. “What’s it going to take-“

Whatever. I stopped listening to their bickering after a bit. Getting paid was the last thing on my mind anyways. I stepped away with a tired sigh and walked off to go stand in a corner while I waited for Finch to give up.

The ride back to Kebia was just as bad as the one from two days ago. And again, that was on me. I decided this morning to try and…I don’t know, be less overbearing around Fenn? Tell him to do less…stuff? In the end, all that ended up amounting to was me talking less. I knew that Finch had some sort of point, but changing to account for that was harder than I expected.

Worst part is, none of it mattered. I messed up. And not just because I tried to poke Fenn about his dad. Somehow, my stupid idea to make him laugh probably made him forget about that. No, I literally, genuinely forgot to tell Fenn about Finch’s plan. I still couldn’t believe it.

I’m such a moron, I thought, grumpily leaning against a wall in the castle foyer, crossing my arms and frowning like someone just stole my lunch. How did everything go wrong? How could I have possibly screwed up THAT BAD? My blood went so cold in that bar that I may as well have turned into an icicle.

On the plus side, though…I got a lead. I got a lead. No more fumbling around in the dark. For once, I had someone to talk to—someone to find. Sure, I had to…look Fenn in the eyes and…tell him to do something he didn’t want to do. Good to know that I didn’t make any progress in that department. My whiskers went limp just thinking about it.

But hey, I was making more progress than I had been before. Losing that Persian wasn’t that big of a deal anymore. I was…excited.

For a moment.

Then I looked over at the other side of the room and saw that Quilava I had been trying so desperately to win over for the past few days. He sat on his belly on the floor near the stairs with his bag draped over his side. He looked tired with his ears drooping and his limbs lazily splayed out around him.

Cosmo was there, too. Considering how much he was bouncing around, I could assume that the little Solosis had taken a nap earlier. Good for him. Wish I could’ve been calm enough to fall asleep on the ride back. Sucks for me, I guess.

I just kept staring at Fenn and not once did he take notice. Maybe he didn’t want to. I wouldn’t blame him.

The more I let the thoughts swirl around in my brain, the more my stomach hurt. Over and over again, I played out today’s events in my head like a broken record. I kept imagining the ways that I could have possibly done things better, and made Fenn smile and Finch nod in approval. I felt like such a teenage loser just thinking about all of the ways I could’ve saved Fenn from falling into the water or…fighting off dingy pirates with my bare hands. But I didn’t care.

None of it was fair. Why did I have to ruin everything just to know where to go next? Apparently, I can’t even talk to my only friend without being a manipulative jerk. What a joke.

I wanted to take a swim. Let the water crash over me and let my body float. Let the world around me wash away. Fighting off the urges of this body was a fruitless endeavor. This time, I didn’t even try. My muscles ached out here on land, but I knew deep down that it would soothe them to dive into my element. On the ride back, thinking about it was what it took to calm myself down. And now, the water called to me louder than ever.

…Just as I was on the cusp of that train of thought, Fenn finally looked over and met my gaze.

Neither of us could tear our eyes off of each other for several moments. He still looked tired, but his expression was mostly blank. As was mine.

Really, that empty, longing sensation I got when thinking about the water was replaced with thoughts of Fenn. Musings about laying down next to him, feeling his warmth, hugging him, talking to him…it was the same. More so even.

I should make amends. Just…talk to him. Anything is better than standing here alone.

So, after a few more seconds of deliberating over it, I pushed off the wall and made my way over, my eyes locked onto him the whole way.

“Oof!”

Only to walk right into a passerby half way there and fall back onto my tail.

I rubbed the back of my head, wincing. “Ah…sorry about that-“

A deep voice talked over me, then stopped almost immediately. “Watch where you’re-“

Honestly, I couldn’t even believe my luck. There was just no way this day could get worse.

I walked right into a Wartortle. Swift, of all pokemon.

“YOU!” Before I had the chance to protest, Swift grabbed me by the cloth around my neck and roughly pulled me to my feet. “What’s the big idea, huh?” he growled into my face. “You think this is funny?”

Oh good lord-

I held up my paws in surrender. “Swift, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to do that!” I gasped out as quickly as I could.

That wasn’t enough. He threw me back onto the ground forcefully. He snarled down at me and my toothpick-like bones. “You’ve got some nerve.”

The force behind his push was enough to daze me. For a second I thought he had even knocked the wind out of me, too. My eyes were practically rolling around in my skull. Now on the ground, I looked up at him fearfully and shook. The words got caught in my dry throat. If I could have talked him out of beating the hell of me, I would have.

Though apparently I did not have the luxury of talking myself out of this one—

“Get him, Oswald!” Cosmo screamed at the top of his lungs from the sidelines. “Beat up that splitbrain whistledick!”

—because that was what really set Swift off.

The Wartortle’s furry ears bristled with seething anger. Red in the face, Swift shouted, “THAT’S IT!”

But before he could stomp my ribcage in, Ipo interrupted our little spat. “HEY! Take it to the Training Grounds or I’ll call security! No fighting in the main hall!”

Begrudgingly, and much to my relief, Swift backed down for now. Though I wasn’t out of the woods yet. Breathing furiously, Swift bent down until his face was right in front of mine and then some. I reflexively leaned my head back and cowered from his harsh gaze. “Training Grounds,” he growled from the back of his throat. “Now. Let’s settle this.”

He stomped off after that, presumably right to the courtyard around the corner.

Meanwhile, hasty breaths escaped my gritted teeth. My heart was pounding so fast that I could hear it in my ears. All around me pokemon stared in shock. Stared at me, and talked in hushed voices. I couldn’t move; the fear weighed down on my chest like an anvil.

I had just enough energy to gaze over at Fenn and Cosmo. The former was up and on all fours, fire flaring up out of his forehead and lower back. The latter was bouncing in excitement.

And then there was me. I looked off into the middle distance, still breathing heavily. One thought above all others was brought to the forefront of my mind:

Are you kidding me?

---