Chapter 4: Bug-Ridden Bonds

Chapter 4: Bug-Ridden Bonds

“Boy, am I glad to see one of these.” After their training in the Waregle, Mathew wasn’t sure if he had the energy to go out into a ‘mystery dungeon’ with the Pick-it Up Club. This, however, alleviated his concerns.

Before them was a large yellow buggy, familiar but different from an Earth vehicle — it was more car-shaped than anything. There was a driver’s seat and a shotgun seat, but the second and third rows were wide cushions that could comfortably fit three pokémon their sizes. It’d comfortably fit about eight of them, which was nearly perfect.

“This is the Pick-it Up Buggy!” Mr. Persian exclaimed, tailing the Club as they filtered into the small garage. “Our wonderful benefactor offered us this for use by resort staff, but we don’t use it much here, so I set it aside for you all! It’s a convenient way to get from here to Asulaguah Beach.”

Jermy waved. “Hello, I’m wonderful benefactor.”

“We should say ‘benefactors,’ plural,” ORB clarified. “Jermy is unfortunately not an auto mechanic.”

“A pretty interesting contraption you made here!” Politoed commented. “Like a machine version of a revavroom.”

Meowth hugged the wall. “I still don’t see the point of this. Twenty minutes isn’t that long of a walk. It’s good exercise.”

“Since when do you care about exercise?” Minichino asked. “If you wanted to work some pounds off, you could do it on the job!”

“Your legs are doing more bending than they are walking.”

Mathew mused on Meowth’s remark. He supposed that it would be good for him to get those steps in…but after running and crawling and swimming and begging for mercy in that Waregle? “I dunno. Minichino’s got a point.”

Upon them entering the conversation, Meowth withdrew, giving both of them a nod. “Whatever you say. I don’t really care.”

“In Meowth’s d-defense, the buggy isn’t a-always fun,” Demurke said. “When Breloom r-really goes flying, it’s hard to h-hold my hat down…”

“You mean it’s hard to hold your head down,” ORB corrected.

Demurke looked down at him, letting the brim of her headwear half-cover her eyes. “It’s… It’s a hat.”

“Sure. I’ll believe that when I see you take it off.”

“Just ignore him,” Jermy said, intervening. “I, for one, respect the ‘stay on your head’ attitude of your hat!”

“Th-thanks,” was all she said. Now that Mathew had a closer look, the transition from head to ‘hat’ was seamless. Could she really not—? Actually, he probably didn’t want to know.

“If you guys are done debating,” Breloom said as she pulled the key to it off of a wall hook, “do you want me to drive again, or should we let one of the new guys have a shot?”

“Actually, let me,” Mathew offered. “It sounds fun!” Not really, but he had more experience driving a vehicle than anybody else.

Breloom took him by surprise with a sudden toss of the key. Mathew looked up, and the large ring of the keychain fell around his snout, as if he were a pin in a carnival game. “It’s all yours.”

Jermy leapt for the second front seat. “I call shotgun!”

The rest of the Club filtered in to the other seats, with Meowth, Demurke, and Politoed taking the second row and Joey, Minichino, and Breloom taking the third. Breloom leaned back, planted her tail on the buggy’s floor, and put her legs atop Politoed’s seat. He grinned and playfully tapped a dangling claw.

Mathew panicked for a second when he sat down and realized he couldn’t reach the pedals, but Jermy was on it in no time, pulling a slider that raised the pedals to his level. There were only a few things that he missed from his old life on Earth, but listening to the roar of the engine as he turned the key was not one he expected. It was unlikely he was going to be driving many things after this buggy. He was going to make the most of it.

The moment Mr. Persian punched a code to open the garage Mathew backed the thing out and drove it around the resort perimeter, testing what it could do. After spotting Mr. Persian waving them off in the mirrors, Mathew picked up the pace. “Out of the waaaaaay! Coooming through!” he shouted at passerby, punctuated with a horn. The dirt roads were perfectly sized for the buggy to roll straight through, but only if cleared of pedestrians. Kalmwa’er citizens ran, jumped, flew, and floated out of the way, many of them shooting Mathew looks. Some annoyed, some shocked, some curious, some enthralled…

Mathew couldn’t hide a chuckle. For the first time in a long, long time, he felt like a stupid teenager, and he was living for it.

They arrived at the edge of Kalmwa’er, where the street ended with a wide bridge surrounded by beachgrass. Now instead of bounding over dirt, the buggy was kicking up sand. Mathew slowed to a stop, making the buggy rumble in place, and peered back at the rest of the Club. “How far to Asulaguah?”

“Usually we get there in ten minutes with the buggy,” Minichino said. “You’ve got another eight minutes to go.”

Mathew clutched the wheel tight. “I’ll make it four!”

“Uh, Mathew, I reckon it’d be nice if you’d—!”

The cubone floored it, silencing Joey’s protest. If he reached a hand past the side of the buggy, it’d get bombarded by all the sand hurtling through the air. Mathew’s skull mask rattled in the wind, and his burgundy tie threatened to fly behind him and strangle his neck if he didn’t keep it straight on his chest.

The speed was fun, at least for a couple minutes. It was entertaining to watch Joey, Minichino, Demurke, and Politoed desperately hold down their headwear — ‘headwear’, in Demurke’s case — in the rearview mirror. Unfortunately, as the buggy erupted with uninteresting small-talk, the novelty didn’t last long. Soon enough, Mathew was left staring at an empty beach with nothing to entertain him but his own mind.

…That, and the way Joey was looking at him. Why did he seem so bothered? Nobody had been hurt, right?

“Something on your mind, Mathew?”

“Uh, no!” Mathew flinched in his seat in surprise. He had forgotten Jermy was right next to him. “Nothing important.”

Jermy’s ears flapped in the wind. “Are you sure?” He lowered his voice, quiet enough to be muffled by the roar of the engine.

Mathew sank into his seat, loosely holding the wheel steady. Besides Joey, he did have a lot to think about. “I’m just worried about doing a good job, I guess. I didn’t expect the new start I wanted to involve so much work.” He grimaced. “If I spent eight months getting here just to screw it all up at the finish line—”

“Hey, don’t talk like that!” Jermy said. “It’s only your first real day. We’re not expecting you to do anything magical right now.”

“He is correct. That will come later,” ORB added, resting in Jermy’s lap.

“Besides, you’re Mathew Walker. I know you can do this! And once you do, it’ll be…better. A lot better. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Right.” He shifted his foot around on the pedal, but couldn’t find a new comfortable spot. “What got SEAS interested in me, anyway? I haven’t done much resume-building since the world went to shit.”

“Well, I can’t speak for SEAS, but I know I was excited when I heard we were thinking of bringing you on board!” Jermy said. “You know ORB’s programming uses your Cat-Tongue code as a base?”

Cat-Tongue? That was a name he hadn’t heard in years. “Why the hell would you use CT? I threw that together during a college internship like fifteen years ago.” Certainly his more recent AI projects were out there for him to copy, right?

“Yeah, and just about everyone trying to make AI that works with robotics uses it as a base! You could make a forest out of all the branches I’ve found out there.” He gestured to Pawalmtry Forest, the place he and Joey awoke, as it ran in parallel with the beach.

“That makes more sense.” Cat-Tongue’s base had indeed caught on as he polished it over the years, but he’d left the project behind a long time ago. “Still, why credit CT to me? All I did was mix an open-source AI with a robotic operation program. It looked pretty janky at the time.”

“It’s not all about the code. It’s the fact that you finalized both the code and the robot! As an intern!”

Mathew shrugged. “That was the project, yeah.”

“Not everyone has the skill to juggle both, Mathew,” Jermy asserted. “And to get the word out there about your stuff in that really charming way… You’ve seriously got a gift.”

“Let’s not talk about my ad campaigns.” Mathew chuckled lightly. It was hard to think back on his TV spots and YouTube videos.

“Why not? You got so many people into tech with that ‘magic show’ shtick of yours.” Jermy looked away from him. “You got me into tech.”

Mathew had to do a double-take. “What?” He glanced at Jermy with wide eyes.

Jermy was caught off-guard. “Uh, yeah! When I was a teen, I really got into your stuff, and I learned a lot. That’s why I started building and programming in the first place. If it hadn’t been for you, I’d never have met David.” He looked down at his hands. “Maybe we’d never have ended up here.”

So that’s what Jermy was.

A fan. Of his achievements on Earth.

Mathew’s heart began pumping. The fact fell on him like a fist. “Then you know…”

The concerned Jermy clutched his creation. “Know what?” His voice seemed so far away.

“About what happened.” Mathew looked down at the floor of the buggy. The club on the floor. The club. “After… after…”

It was happening again.

Mathew held him tightly in his arms. A siren blared outside as they rushed in. He could feel his whole world falling out from under him.

“I’m so sorry,” he frailly told him. He wished he could say more, do more, but there was nothing. Nothing.

Everything was blurry. All he could see was what had been burned into his mind.

All he could see was L—

“Mathew! What the heck are you doing?!”

“Everyone, jump! Now!”

Mathew was barely able to snap out of it at the sound of Minichino and Breloom’s yells. “Shit!” He pumped the brakes, turned the wheel, and braced for impact.

Crack!

The cubone slammed his chest into the wheel from the force of the impact. The bone club launched out from under him, landing in the sand. Even as the tension subsided, he struggled to breathe.

He slowly climbed to his feet in the driver’s seat. Over the front of the buggy, he could see the damage: a large, textured rock he had slammed the buggy into had split in half, right down the middle. Behind him, the Club members were pulling themselves out of the sand. None of them seemed particularly happy at the moment.

What had he done? A crash like this had probably damaged the buggy. Worse yet, he could’ve gotten everyone in the Club injured. Or worse—

“Our rock.”

Oh God.

Mathew whipped around to see a towering creature climb atop the split rock. Held together by stone making up its shoulders and waist, the orange and brown colored pokémon had four arms and two legs, each with sets of long claws. Even the head seemed to resemble a potential fist.

No, no, no. He did not have the energy to deal with one of those ‘dungeon pokémon’ right now. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, failing to find anything better to say.

“You jerk! You broke our rock!” That voice didn’t come from the head.

“I know that!” Mathew snapped. Where…wait, was that thing on one of their right palms an eye? In fact, there were eyes on all four of the palms.

Dear God. This wasn’t one wild pokémon he had enraged. It was seven.

The lower left palm chuckled. “Look at him, shaking like a krabby! How cute.”

“Sure wish I could see it…” A muffled voice cried from the left sole.

“Quit complainin’. Heady will give us a looksee when he feels like it,” the right sole said.

“Quiet!” Heady exclaimed, and the limbs went silent. “This is our only rock. And you broke it.”

“As I said, I know that.” Mathew could feel the tension radiating off of the pokémon. As if he needed another reason to be distressed. “At least you have two rocks to share among yourselves, or something.”

He regretted that line the moment it came out his mouth.

“Two rocks,” Heady repeated. “Would you like two heads?” He glanced at one of the left arms. “Left hook.”

The unit moved faster than Mathew could react. The next thing he knew, his mask rattled, his body was buried in the sand, and a splitting headache had come over him.

A chorus of shouts came from his coworkers as they charged in. Mathew looked up just in time to see Jermy leap onto the hood and shove the pokémon off with a blisteringly quick attack.

Two pairs of paws came over him. The first were Meowth’s, pulling him into a standing position, then checking for significant injuries. The second were Minichino’s, clearing him of sand.

“Sorry, Mathew, but I can’t live with a coworker covered in sand,” she told him.

Jermy was still busy holding off the pokémon. “Alright, Mr. Four Arms,” Mathew heard him call out. “Feel the shocking power of Jermy Shock!” Jermy lobbed a mighty bolt…which promptly turned away from the target and took off towards land, slamming into a line of trash along the shore. “Oh, come on!” he wailed. “Who throws away a— Two! Two lightning rods! Are you joking?!”

As the unit slashed at Jermy, the rest of the Club congregated around Mathew. “Well, this is kind of a mess,” Breloom proclaimed. “That barbaracle’s about to make a pancake out of Jer.”

Breloom was right. Mathew surveyed the pokémon around him. Already, he could feel his mind kicking up the pace. They outnumbered this barbaracle thing nine-ish to seven, right? He just needed to plot everyone out like this was a project. He’d done that plenty of times.

He brought them into this situation, and he’d pull them out of it.

“Okay. This guy hits like a truck, so Meowth should stay far out of the way of this.” He and Joey weren’t exactly equipped to fight, either. “Joey, you stay with him and pretend you could kick this guy’s ass.”

Joey bore his sharp teeth at Mathew. “Rawr.”

Mathew shot him a look of disappointment.

“Is that planning I hear?” Politoed crouched down to come to his level, intrigued. “Usually that’s my job.”

Perfect. “I only know half of the people here. Can you help with the other half?”

He immediately turned to the Club veterans. “Breloom, focus on sapping those limbs of energy. Minichino, use your size to catch him by surprise.”

“Demurke could do that, too,” Mathew suggested, gesturing to her. “Have her fly in from above.”

That idea made Politoed grin. “Not a bad idea.”

“I-I like this plan!” Demurke exclaimed, seeming eager.

Mathew breathed a sigh of relief as he picked up his club and dusted it off. It seemed like the panic of his prior mistake was already fading away.

“Yeah!” Minichino tensed up, ready to fight. “All that’s left is what Politoed’s gonna do!”

Politoed shut his eyes, contemplating. “I’ll—”

“Aw, fish sticks…!” A distant cry got everyone’s attention. In the time it had taken for them to plan, the barbaracle had gotten the upper hand over Jermy, grabbing him in his fist. Mathew’s eyes widened as he watched the dungeon pokémon rear back like a football player.

“Bye bye~” the fist said.

With a throw, Jermy was launched through the sky over the ocean. “Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…” In the distance, Mathew watched him skip and skid along the waves until he finally went under.

“…go deal with that.” Politoed shuffled away slowly, as if the barbaracle could only see movement. Once at the edge of the water, he dove in after Jermy.

Heady’s eyes landed on Mathew once again as the hulking body stomped around to face him. “We will drown you next. Unless the others still want to go first?”

“Try me, ‘Ed!” Breloom burst into a sprint, aiming a punch at the right leg. The unit stepped out of the way, then hammered down on her with a lower arm. With a practiced efficiency, Breloom answered with a kick to the barbaracle’s slammed fist, only for another hand to connect. She was pushed back, but kept her feet firmly in the sand.

“Try again!” Heady commanded, and the limbs obeyed. Both lower arms went for Breloom at the same time. Effortlessly, she dove under them, and they smacked into each other. Breloom promptly jumped for the upper left hand, digging her fists into it.

“You must be full of energy to throw that far. Mind if I take some of that?”

Breloom’s red claws began to glow. The arm flailed around, trying and failing to shake her off. The claws on her hands sunk deep, and, when airborne, the ones on her feet did just as well. The tighter Breloom held on, the weaker the limb’s resistance became.

Mathew remembered a move that sounded like this: Drain Punch.

“High-lefty!” The lower left palm cried as the limb withered and slumped over. In retaliation, they reached for the Breloom and pulled her off. “You’re gonna pay for that. He wasn’t the only good throwing arm here!” Breloom struggled in their grip, but the newfound energy wasn’t enough.

Mathew almost couldn’t believe that she was caught. Breloom had fought so impressively, it was like she’d never get beat. With nobody else geared to help, Mathew charged in. “Get the hell away from—!”

He realized too late that shouting a battle cry had given himself away. A leg came flying at his face, knocking him to his back. The unit went in to stomp on him, only to lean back. A laser from ORB soared through the air and cut them off.

That was all Breloom needed. She burst out of the lower left’s grip and made for a kick at the torso. Heady yelped, unprepared for a blow, and the unit fell into a sitting position. When they rose, the arms were playing a game of Whack-A-Mole with their torso. Minichino had gotten onto their back.

“Who…is that?!” Heady exclaimed, sounding winded by the kick.

“I’m Minichino, here to kick your butt! Nice to meet you!” She nimbly hopped all around the torso, letting the desperate limbs smack Heady’s body. Evidently, there was no rule against friendly fire as long as it protected the unit.

“You three…!” Heady tried to command. “Stop missing…or I’ll—”

A dark blue blur dropped onto the unit’s shoulder, launching a wing-smack faster than they could think. Hardly a second later, Heady slumped over.

Mathew leapt into the air with glee. “Yes!” They’d taken out the one in command! Now the barbaracle would surely—

“Arms! Position shift! Now!”

…What?

Minichino and Demurke scurried around the rock body as the unit shifted the body sideways. The two unconscious limbs were made into right arms, The lower left arm was made the new head, the right palms became feet, and the former feet had already taken hold of both of the Club members.

“You’ve taken out Heady,” one of them said.

“Now it’s time…for the Feeties!” the other shouted.

“Dunk them!” the new head barked, and so they did, slamming them both down. Breloom tried to retaliate, but a sweep knocked all three of them away. The unit hobbled away in an awkward walk, heading for a pile of trash.

This wasn’t good. With this adaptation, Mathew’s plan was starting to come undone. Those ex-feet seemed to hit way harder, based on that sweep. How could he contend with… Uh, what were they doing?

The unit was hunched over, letting the two reach down into the trash pile. They were trying to pry a pair of lightning rods — the ones Jermy had been stopped by earlier — out of the sand.

Meowth moved into the crowd, offering Minichino, Demurke, and Breloom oran berries. “That thing’s going to beat us with lightning rods?” he remarked. “That doesn’t seem very effective.”

Mathew was about to coordinate a new plan when he paused.

Where. Where had he heard what Meowth said before? It was familiar…

Oh… It was there.

“What kind of weapon is that?” she whispered to him. “He has a death wish if he’s gonna use that against a firearm. How much are you willing to bet those nails are just for looks?”

Mathew stared and stared and stared at that barbaracle as it clutched them firmly. The new head looked towards the group with fierce eyes.

Towards him.

The cubone’s club shook in his trembling hand. “No… Don’t you come closer…” He took a step back. Breloom said something to him, but it didn’t register. His heart was beating so loudly that it flooded his ears.

The barbaracle charged Mathew down. He wanted to leap out of the way, but he didn’t. It was as if his mind was detached from his limbs. Why was he like this? He clenched his eyes shut as the rod came down. He didn’t want to see the outcome.

It never came. When he opened them again, he was sat down facing the shore, away from the action. Sand spread across his arms and water lapped at his legs. He couldn’t feel any of it.

His savior, the one who dragged him out of the way, got down on his knees, looking him directly in the eye. A paw came to rest on his shoulder.

“Can you close your eyes for me?” Meowth’s voice was firm, but not harsh. Mathew was compelled to do as he said. “Breathe in through your snout carefully. Count to five, then breathe out.”

His erratic breathing changed pace as he heeded his advice. In. One, two, three, four, five. Out. He repeated it again, then again.

The world began coming back to him. First the lapping water, then the ground below him, then the warmth of the sun. The distress of the moment was easing.

“Thank you,” he mumbled without opening his eyes. He felt Meowth’s grasp on his shoulder soften.

The fight was coming back again. He could hear Politoed barking commands and Jermy charging into battle. The pikachu’s voice was distant, but legible. “Bad weapon choice, bucko! You’re about to get a taste of my sweet revenge.”

There was a surge, then a slam. Mathew finally opened his eyes and turned around. Past the sharp glare of the sun, he was just in time to watch Jermy cleanly tackle the center of the barbaracle. The limbs cried out as they were launched back, the shape of the unit breaking away. When they landed, the stones making up their body cracked and broke, letting loose the creatures that made it up.

“Noooooo! Not our other rocks!” one of the three remaining creatures cried as they took their four unconscious buddies and slithered away. Without a body, they stood no chance.

Mathew slowly climbed to his feet as the Club members regrouped. Everyone seemed mostly fine…except for Minichino. She was splayed in the sand, unmoving. He approached her in concern. Something must have happened while he was lost in his own mind. “Is she—?”

“No, just unconscious.” Casually, Meowth rummaged around in his emergency kit until he revealed a small seed with a tiny little leaf sprouting from it. He carefully fed the seed into her mouth, and as if she’d been jumpstarted like a vehicle, she sprung to life.

“Alright, which one of you wants some—?” Minichino scrambled to her feet, only to realize there was no action around her. “Aw, is the fight already over?”

“Do you think I would have given you that if it wasn’t safe?” Meowth asked.

Minichino crossed her arms. “I would’ve wanted you to!”

“Well, I’ll be…” Joey approached them in awe. “Did that seed do that?”

“It woke her up, yes,” Meowth replied. “Have you never seen a reviver seed before?”

“Uh, no, I have.” He didn’t sound confident, but nobody pressed him further. Mathew noticed Jermy nod ever so slightly.

Demurke flapped her wings in satisfaction. “Well, th-that’s taken care of!”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.” Mathew sighed, letting the last of his worries go. He felt like that could’ve gone much, much worse.

“Well, not everything.” Breloom gave a reminding gesture to the massive cracked rock. “The good news is that I’m pretty sure you didn’t bust it up too much. I’m gonna kindly ask that you leave the driving to me from here on, though.” She chuckled, hardly seeming angry.

“Yeah, that’s fair…” If that was all the ribbing he was going to get for this fiasco, Mathew was incredibly thankful. The mercy and support of his co-workers was the whole reason why that barbaracle didn’t end up killing him or something. “Anyway, I’m gonna go check the damages on the buggy.”

“I elect Jermy to help him, since he took shotgun,” ORB chimed in.

“Hey, I was gonna do that anyway! It’s my responsibility as a ‘wonderful benefactor’, after all.” Jermy made a shooing motion to the rest of the Club. “You guys go on ahead and start cleaning up around here.”

“I’ll stay in case you need an extra pair of paws,” Meowth declared. Minichino shot him a side-eye, which he quickly reciprocated.

“Okay! Don’t t-take too long, you guys. See you soon…!” Demurke ushered the Club away from Mathew, Jermy, Meowth, and ORB. Joey gave Mathew a thoughtful look before he joined them.

Jermy led Mathew towards the impact site, letting Meowth stay behind them and watch. After taking a moment to ensure the wheels weren’t locked, the two carefully pushed the buggy away from the rock. The damage was clear: the left side of the hood was deeply dented.

“Well, it could be worse?” Mathew supposed.

“Definitely!” Jermy lifted the hood, revealing a large, complex engine. There didn’t seem anything immediately broken or out-of-place. “We designed this thing to be sturdy. Everything has to be sturdy on Solceus, after all.”

“Huh.” Now that Mathew’s mind was a little clearer, he could admire Jermy’s prowess. “You aren’t an auto engineer, right?” Neither was he, but he couldn’t help but take a moment to study it. It wasn’t easy to contribute to a field of engineering you have less practice in, Mathew knew that much. So for Jermy to have done this… “You talked like you were just a fan, but you aren’t half-bad yourself, either.”

“Thanks! Y’know, we’ve kinda had similar careers when you think about it,” Jermy posited. “We’re both engineers, we’ve helped make ground-breaking progress in our fields, we both have messed up name spellings…”

“Oh, I feel that last one.” He rolled his eyes as irritating memories flashed through his mind. “So many people write my name with two Ts, it drives me nuts.”

“Don’t forget you called me Jeremy when I introduced myself yesterday. Trust me, you’re not the first!” Jermy quietly remarked.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Mathew said. “How did that name happen, by the way? I get mine, but—”

“Miswrite on my birth certificate,” Jermy quickly answered.

“…Wow.” Mathew had no idea how to respond to that, so he decided to take a closer look at the dented hood. “Do you think I could push that back out with my club?” he asked.

“You’re free to try!” Jermy held up the hood, leaving it wide open.

Mathew came up and poked the interior. He aimed for the center, reared back, and gave it a smack. Then another, and another. This dent was resilient, but so was he.

“You can do it!” Jermy cheered. “Hammer that dent like it ruined your life!”

Mathew winced, and the next thing he knew, he’d swung with so much force that the club slipped from his hand and dropped into the sand. “Whoops…” He squatted and—

Don’t look down

—stumbled away from it. “Maybe you should’ve used another analogy,” he mumbled. He reached up to wipe sweat that wasn’t present from the side of his face he couldn’t feel through his mask.

Jermy seemed at a loss for how to react to him. “Uh… I… I could make another one if you—”

“I think Mathew needs fewer analogies and more time to think.”

Right, Mathew had almost forgot that Meowth was with them. He peered back at the cat, giving him an expression that he couldn’t read.

“Jermy, I’m going to talk with him for a few minutes,” Meowth continued. “There’s something important I feel I need to say.”

Jermy’s ears straightened as he heard Meowth’s assertion. “Well look at you, being a go-getter…” Meowth crossed his arms at that.

“According to my database, consequences of taking a break include short-term frustration, long-term depression, possible destruction of bones, and death.” ORB let that hang for a moment. “Just kidding. Go ahead.”

Mathew followed Meowth as he padded along, taking him to the other side of the rock. He sat down, then beckoned Mathew to do the same.

He collapsed against the stone. “That’s the second time you’ve come to my rescue today,” Mathew said. “Thanks for that.”

“It’s fine.” Meowth started half-mindedly raking one of his claws against the coin embedded into his forehead. “Have you noticed yourself ‘clamming up’, for lack of a better term, like how you did during the fight earlier?”

“Yeah…” Mathew still was unsure what to make of his landlord of sorts. Meowth’s tone was so matter-of-fact, but he seemed to be honestly engaging with him. He deserved at least a little explanation. “I get like that sometimes. Joey saw a bit of it yesterday, but I’m trying not to let it show too much.” The cubone looked down and gave a hard kick to the water, splashing it forwards. “It doesn’t help that I feel kind of tired in general already.”

“You did leave the condo pretty early this morning.” Meowth put his paw down, looking more focused now. “What are they having you do that warrants being up so early?”

Meowth really kept asking him the hard questions, huh? How could Mathew non-explicitly describe the experience… “Well, it involved a lot of running around.”

Meowth grunted. “Interesting. Weird that our employer has you here after the others are making you work your tail off.”

Mathew wasn’t really sure what Meowth meant by that, other than that he was against overworking. “You aren’t really the backbreaker type, huh?”

He grinned. “Why do you think I’m here instead of helping the others clean?” Meowth asked. Suddenly, his tone became a lot more serious. “I don’t know if I mentioned it before, but I happen to be a licensed physical and mental therapist.”

Mathew’s eyes widened. “For real?”

“For real.”

Huh. A cat that happened to be a therapist. What were the odds?

“Anyway, I get the impression that you might be in need of somebody to talk to. So, why don’t we grab lunch together after our work today is done?”

An honest-to-god therapy session over some food? After everything, that sounded like exactly what Mathew was looking for. Maybe he could finally develop some more resilience and make his path to peacefulness that much easier. It was hard to believe this was the guy everyone was warning him about.

“You know what? I’d like that,” he said with a nod.

His bone club rolled up against his hand, but he ignored it. For now, there was no need.