Gift Shop

Tipper shuffled up the stairs of the Swanna House and pushed the door open to his and his father’s room. It was a simple place, with rough-hewn wooden beds and straw heaped up on them in place of mattresses, with the window overlooking the wooden walkway outside. After what had been a few weeks in Post Town, Tipper supposed they probably should’ve picked up more permanent bedding, but with only an hour to work with for his evening break, he didn’t want to worry about that right now.

He flopped down on his bed and let his eyes drift off towards the ceiling with a low sigh. The day had been unusually busy with travelers for some reason. Was it some sort of holiday in Mist or something? Back home, he knew there would sometimes be summer festivals in towns, but he hadn’t heard anyone mention there being things like that here. He probably should’ve already gone to get dinner from the Juice Bar, but Tipper frankly needed this moment to lie down for a bit.

“You’re certainly back early. Are you not feeling well, Tipper?”

Tipper craned his head up after hearing a thump against the ground and turned to see a bag lying next to the doorpost, along with his father walking in with a skeptical frown. Tipper pinched his brow and sighed. He knew that his father always was quick to point out when he thought his motivation or work ethic was lacking, but it wasn’t impossible to get worn out even without constantly going into Mystery Dungeons.

“Dad, it’s Kecleon Market policy that meal breaks last for an hour,” he grumbled. “If they didn’t expect the shop to be closed during it, they’d have assigned me a partner until Mom was able to come over.”

The elder Kecleon stared at him with a disapproving frown, before heading off deeper into the room for a chest wedged in the corner. He opened the lid to fetch a few odds and ends, before glancing from the corner of his eye.

“I suppose that I can fill in for you while you take your break,” Torneko sighed. “Though do make a point of being more energetic than this for the morning inspection tomorrow.”

Tipper sat up after his father’s reply, and noticed the scales on his arms had turned visibly pale.

“The what now?”

“The morning inspection?” Torneko said, raising a brow. “The one by our Regional Manager that I told you about before I went on my latest excursion?”

Ack! That was tomorrow?!

Yes, that was definitely a reason for Tipper to get as much rest as he could, since he couldn’t imagine showing up before a Regional Manager of all Pokémon in a shambolic state would be good for his standing in Kecleon Market’s ranks.

“You did remember to get him a gift for his visit, yes?” Torneko pressed.

Tipper felt his heart skip a beat and his mouth hung open. He noticed that his scales had turned white as a sheet, much as if he were personally staring down that meteor which almost hit Air a few years ago.

The younger Kecleon hurriedly got onto his feet and backpedaled for the door, letting out a nervous titter.

“Oh, the inspection!” he said. “Uh… of course I remembered! I was just headed down to Swanna’s to pick it up my gift from the inn’s mail!”

Tipper could see his father’s face grow longer by the word, and he was all too thankful once he made it into the hall outside. He closed the door, and took off running for the stairs.

Tipper all but flew down the stairs to the Swanna House’s Juice Bar as one thought kept playing over and over in his head:

Stars, I am so dead.

Tipper had completely forgotten the shop’s first inspection was this week. Worse still, every time one met a new Regional Manager for the first time, it was an unspoken tradition in Kecleon Market’s ranks to present said Regional Manager with a gift of appreciation to make a good first impression and kick off a professional relationship.

He’d hoped to put in an order through a mail catalog for some sort of nicer accessory sourced from Noe Town or the like, but that obviously wasn’t going to happen in a night. Even if Post Town actually had a proper Post Office in it, it’d take the better part of a day for the Pelipper or whatever mailmon handled mail from here just to drop it off!

He turned at the end of the stairs and bolted over to Swanna’s corner, hurriedly hailing the Flying-type from behind the counter.

“Signora! Are there any listings on the board for things for sale here in Post Town?”

Swanna cocked a brow and shuffled her wings with a skeptical frown.

“Don’t you and your father run a General Store, Kecleon-?”

“Look, I need something that didn’t obviously come from the shop’s backroom!” Tipper sputtered. “Please, I’m desperate here!”

Swanna tilted her head briefly, before something caught her eye from further within the Juice Bar. She raised a wing and pointed off at a table towards the front.

“I doubt you’d be able to close any deals on such short notice, but you just might be in luck,” she said. “It looks like a few of the local shopkeepers are here right now.”

Tipper turned and followed Swanna’s wingtip deeper into the Juice Bar when he saw them: Rampardos from across the lane from him and Cinccino from the opposite side of his own shop. The two were sharing berry juice and talking with each other with the Rock-type looking strangely bashful for some reason.

It occurred to him that in spite of spending a bit more time with Rampardos lately, he hadn’t really talked with Cincinno even when she was right across the lane from the Box Buster. But now wasn’t a good time to worry about that. Tipper… wasn’t convinced that anything would come of asking Rampardos for a lead, but what did he have to lose? He darted over, coming up to Rampardos and Cinccino’s table huffing and puffing for air.

“Oh thank goodness,” he muttered. “Rampardos, I know that this is really short notice, but are there any places that sell souvenirs here?”

There was a moment of blinking silence, before the Box Buster put a finger to his mouth with a puzzled glance upwards.

“I mean… there’s Roggenrola’s rock stand?” Rampardos mused. “He is a Traveling Sales-Mon who’s only going to be here temporarily, an-”

“Something other than rocks, please!” Tipper insisted. “Look, if you found anything interesting from Box Busting lately, I’ll buy it off of you! I just need a gift for a superior before tomorrow morning!”

“Ahem.”

Tipper turned his head over to Cinccino’s end of the table, where the Normal-type pushed away her cup of berry juice and gave a satisfied paw at her shoulder.

“If I may, but I do run the Gift Shop here in Post Town, Kecleon,” she reminded. “I’m currently running a bit low on wrapping paper, but I should still have enough to put a few more orders together in the coming morning.”

Tipper paused. Yes, he supposed that Cinccino did run a ‘Gift Shop’, but he wasn’t convinced that those sorts of gifts would exactly impress a Regional Manager.

“Wait, but I thought your gifts were meant for Explorers who were trying to befriend wild Pokémon.”

“No, no, they work great on Pokémon in general,” Rampardos insisted. “Cinccino here was a real lifesaver and helped get me a present for my son’s hatch day one year after I accidentally busted the gift I’d meant to give him. Why, from the way he reacted to it, he probably liked it more than what I originally was planning on giving him!”

Tipper shot an askew glance at Rampardos as he chortled to himself and gave a disbelieving blink. He sure hoped that Rampardos didn’t tell his son the full story behind that gift, but it sounded like things worked out for him well enough.

And Tipper was short on options right now, so as much as he couldn’t believe he was doing this…

“I don’t suppose that you have anything meant for Kecleon, do you, Cinccino?” he asked.

“Nothing specifically for Kecleon, no,” she replied.

Tipper felt the color drain from his face and started to feel a bit lightheaded. Of course Cinccino wouldn’t have anything. Why on earth had he ever bothered getting his hopes up-?

Though I suppose I do have some gifts that are pretty reliable at impressing Pokémon that are like them,” she said. “I can’t promise that they’d win over a Kecleon as well, but you could do worse, at least.”

Tipper sighed out of relief as he started to feel the color return to his scales. “Doing worse” would have to do. Especially when the best alternative was giving the Regional Manager the paperweight he’d bought from Roggenrola.

“Great, I’ll take it,” he said. “How much will it be?”

“300 Poké and a pair of Violent Seeds,” Cinccino replied. “Just bring it by my shop sometime before closing and I’ll have it ready for you to pick up first thing in the morning.”

Tipper blinked as Cinccino took her berry juice and brought it back towards her mouth. He understood the Poké, but…

“Wait, Violent Seeds?” he asked. “Why on earth do you need those?”

“My suppliers give me the materials I need for my gifts in return for traded materials,” she replied, giving a small chuckle back. “The supplier I use for the gift I had in mind asks for Violent Seeds as part of that trade.”

Just what on earth was in that gift Cinccino was making? No, it was better off not to know. Tipper noticed Rampardos shooting an askew glance from his end of the table with his mouth hanging open, before he spoke up with a wary frown.

“Kecleon, if you’re not sure about this, maybe you should stick with Roggenrola’s-”

“I’ll go and check the shop’s stock,” Tipper said. “I’m pretty sure that Dad brought in some Violent Seeds today.”

He just hoped that this would work.

The next morning, Tipper was in a state of disbelief. Much as Cinccino had promised, right as she opened her shop for the day, there was a large parcel wrapped in bright red-and-blue paper waiting for him on the counter. Picking it up went well enough, except there was a strange clattering noise inside every time he shifted it, including when he set it on the counter in front of his father.

The elder Kecleon raised a brow and prodded at the parcel warily, before shooting a dubious frown back at him.

“Tipper, what on earth did you buy?” Torneko asked.

“… A local specialty?” Tipper replied, sheepishly pawing at the back of his head.

His father didn’t seem particularly impressed with that answer and folded his arms. Stars, this was a mistake. Maybe it wasn’t too late to go back to his room and get that paperweight he’d bought from Roggenrola to-

“Oh, you must be the Shopkeeper!”

So much for that idea. Tipper looked down the lane, where there, making his way past the Deposit Box, was a Kecleon with purple scales and green fringes holding a small slate. Tipper blinked as the stranger approached, when the purple Kecleon all but grabbed one of his claws for a vigorous shake.

“I’m the Regional Manager,” the purple Kecleon said. “You’re certainly a bit younger than I expected, though it’s always nice to see employees entering the ranks of Kecleon Market nice and early in life.”

There was a moment of puzzled silence as Tipper stared at the purple Kecleon, who looked weirdly familiar to him. The Regional Manager cocked a brow and gave his head a wary tilt.

“Is something the matter?” the purple Kecleon asked.

“It’s nothing,” Tipper replied. “It’s just that I swear that I have an older cousin who looks just like…”

Tipper trailed off after noticing the piercing scowl his father was giving him from the corner of his vision. Right, first impressions. Probably as good a sign as any that he should drop the present conversation.

“Nevermind, I’m getting a bit off-topic,” he said. “Anyhow, I suppose you wanted to get straight into that inspection?”

“Quite,” the purple Kecleon replied. “I’m actually running a bit late for a personal appointment, so it’d be in everyone’s interest to move this along.”

Tipper set the wrapped parcel aside on the counter before taking the Regional Manager around the shop under his father’s watchful gaze. Around the perimeter, to the Deposit Box, behind the counter, into the stockroom… every little nook and cranny of the General Store quickly went by until eventually they were all back in front of the counter, with the purple Kecleon writing a few final runes on his slate before looking back up at the Kecleon-headed shop.

“Well, it certainly looks like your store is doing well enough,” the Regional Manager said. “Do pay a bit more attention to how organized you keep your stockroom in the future, but otherwise, it’s a respectable result for your first inspection.”

Tipper quietly breathed out a sigh of relief. With how much of a whirlwind just getting the General Store back into a presentable state had been, he was worried that the Regional Manager would have more to complain about than just the store’s stockroom being a bit of a mess.

He felt a soft prod at his side and saw his father elbowing him, before raising his voice to his superior.

“Ahem. I realize that you’re running a bit short on time, Regional Manager, but my son wanted to pass on a token of our appreciation,” Torneko insisted.

Right. The gift. Tipper turned back for the counter where the parcel in its red-and-blue wrapping was still there waiting for them and passed it over. It made a clattering noise as the Regional Manager took it, which prompted him to stop and shake the box before giving a puzzled frown.

“Oh? What’s this?”

The purple Kecleon grabbed one end of the ribbon on top and pulled as it came undone and the lid came off. Tipper saw his father’s eyes widen in shock and his scales lose their color, and when he looked at it, he did much the same.

Inside, there was some scale polish, some Yache Berries, and…

“… Glass beads?” the Regional Manager asked.

Along with a bunch of fake gems and polished metal baubles. Why, this didn’t look like a gift meant for a Kecleon at all! It looked like it’d been plucked straight from the nest of some wild Druddigon! Tipper cringed as his scales turned a deep, embarrassed red as a part of him wished there was a hole for him to just crawl into and die in. He noticed his father’s scales had flushed red as well, if a fierier shade that was a clear sign that he wasn’t the least bit happy at the moment. Tipper quietly gulped as his father leaned in and raised his voice in a hissing whisper.

“Tipper, we’re going to need to have a talk about this afterwards.”

Torneko hastily dispelled the red from his scales and gave an apologetic bow, all but throwing his claws out to snatch the Druddigon Gift away.

“My deepest apologies, Regional Manager,” the older Kecleon said. “I think that there must have been some sort of-”

“No, no! This is perfect!” the Regional Manager insisted. “Your son actually saved my scales here!”

The purple Kecleon trailed off a bit, before an embarrassed smile came over his face and he pawed at the back of his head.

“I actually have to make it to the hatch day for the child of a family friend who works in banking,” he explained. “I don’t know what I’ll do with the rest of your son’s present, but the child’s a Meowth, so I’m sure she’ll be over the moon to get these beads and baubles.”

Torneko let his mouth hang open and his brow furrowed in disbelief. Tipper could hardly believe everything was really happening himself, but before he knew it, the Regional Manager was grasping his claws and giving them a vigorous shake.

“Thank you so much for the gift! You’re a lifesaver!” the Regional Manager chuckled. “I’ll be sure to remember this when it comes time to write annual evaluations!”

Tipper just stared for a moment, but opted not to question things. Somehow, in spite of everything being a blundering mess, he’d managed to make it through his first inspection and even made a good first impression on the Regional Manager.

Sure, it was almost entirely due to dumb luck, he could live with dumb luck for today.

“H-Heh, don’t mention it.”

He supposed that he owed Cinccino a word of thanks for the gift… and maybe a round of drinks at the Swanna House sometime after his dad finished chewing him out.