Ready Or Not

“Eevee, that’s cheating! You’re not even the seeker!”

“Too bad. Hey, Treecko! We’ve found him!”

“Huh, really? Squirtle, is he actually in there?”

“Yeah, he was in this crevice all this time. Figures why we couldn’t find him.”

“… Torchic, are you okay…?”

When Treecko and Shieldon arrived, Torchic was already out of his spot, fuming, covered with dust and roughed up feathers. Treecko wondered how he had somehow managed to fit himself in such a tight spot, even with that big head of his.

“Easy! You just gotta look!” Then he glared at Eevee. “Also, she’s cheating.”

“It isn’t cheating, Torchic,” Eevee retorted, “You’re the last one to be found.”

“How does that matter?”

“Alright, alright. It’s cool. You’re the winner.” Treecko stepped towards the three of them, with Shieldon following closely behind. “But um… Torchic, can you be the seeker this time?”

“What?” Torchic snapped his head towards Treecko, frowning. “But why?”

“Well… Shieldon’s always the seeker.”

“But why me?” Torchic looked around. No one else seemed to be paying attention, or at least, very deceptively, pretending not to. “Why not Eevee? She’s pretty good at—”

Eevee yawned, grunting an unnaturally exhausted tone, “… I’m really tired right now…”

“OK… Then why not Squirtle?”

“Torchic, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be the seeker.” Shieldon said from behind Treecko. “Maybe… we should switch things up a bit?”

Torchic seemed reluctant to answer.

“Pretty please?”

“Ugh… OK, fine.” Torchic pressed his head against the stone, eyes peeking.

“Are you guys ready?”

But, with surprising speed, they had already gone into hiding by the time Torchic gave his question.

“Ah. OK, Um…” He immediately shut his eyes and began counting.

“Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven…”

“… Four, three, two, one! Ready or not, here I come!”

The search begins at the market square, in what might possibly be the busiest place of this town… Littered with crates and stands of colorful stripes and advertisements, all sorts of merchandise, and crowded with Pokémon at all times of day. Each noon and late evening was an explosion of activity that would absorb every Pokémon it managed to gobble up. Right now, it presents itself as a full catalog of hiding spots of just about any kind, but Torchic knew to only look inside the little crates since they literally don’t hide anywhere else but.

And, indeed, after a quick, thorough search of all the empty boxes he could find…

“Boo! Got you!”

“Ahh!”
“Squirtle’s behind the apple stand over there!”
“Hey, not fair!”

After some back and forth between Squirtle and Eevee (and a few attempts at making peace with the help from Shieldon), Torchic can confidently say that he has found all but one of them. Even though it was unrealistic to find everyone in the same area at the same time, he didn’t expect that the person to go hide alone would be…

“Treecko?” Shieldon asked.

“Yeah, we’re missing Treecko.” Torchic finished another lap through the entire marketplace. “Is she even here?”

“Asking us for clues? Isn’t that cheating, Torchic?” Eevee perked up from another stall.

“No, it isn’t! You said it yourself earlier.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“If Treecko’s not here…” Squirtle’s eyes drifted towards the skies as he mulled it over. “Maybe she’s back at the treehouse?”

“Huh?”

“Y’know, her favorite spot?”

“But…” Shieldon asked, “Isn’t that really far from here?”

“It’s just a guess.” Squirtle stood up, almost eager to go. “But we don’t have any better suggestions, do we?”

The four of them paused in very serious consideration, to his surprise.

“We can start from there and work our way back!” Eevee proposed, in a tone almost as if she had just discovered something groundbreaking, before taking off on her own. “Come on, you guys!”

“W-Wait up!” Squirtle realized, a bit too late after everyone else had left him behind and gone after Eevee.

The treehouse was built with leftover wood and nails and anything the Kangaskhan was willing to give out over the course of a single summer. Adults would occasionally come to offer help and be rejected in return. In the end, it was shabby work. The oversized wooden box functioned better as a terribly inefficient raintank than as a treehouse, but at least it could stand.

That’s when Treecko saw it as a great opportunity to transform the place into a proper hangout spot, in which she took great pride. The room was decorated with many items donated straight from her house—including a proper roof similar to a tent, made out of multiple sewn-together curtains, an unused carpet, some old clay pots, and wrapping paper as makeshift wallpaper—along with a few items she had bought on her own budget. She had also brought a lot of seeds and berries, but they were gobbled up faster than they could be replaced, so she stopped bringing them after a while.

It wasn’t long until the treehouse became a regular visit. Torchic could still remember the first night, cuddling together with everyone under a horribly itchy blanket. He remembers the night after that. And the night after after that. And all the treasured memories formed underneath the filtered sun and chilly breeze of autumn. Torchic occasionally wonders how everything could’ve turned out if it weren’t for Treecko. If she wasn’t ever here. But he tries not to.

“Have you found her?” Torchic reached out from below.

“Hold on!” Eevee leapt through the steps and reached the house with ease. “Uh…”

“Nope! Not here.”

“That’s alright.” Squirtle stepped off the porch and turned his back. “We can start without her.”

---

There was a click, and the door nudged open. Squirtle stepped back so Mrs. Grovyle could use some space.

“Sorry kids.” There was a slight sorrow emitting from her voice when she addressed the group. “Treecko’s fallen ill. She won’t be able to play today, unfortunately…”

“Oh. That’s alright, ma’am. We’ll—”

“Check back tomorrow!” Loudly exclaimed Eevee.

Grovyle smiled gently, waved them goodbye and closed the door behind her, leaving them to their dispute over Eevee’s very heartfelt comment. The rowdy conversation eventually dissipated after they realized that Treecko would, in fact, not be participating today.

“So… Just the four of us?” Asked Shieldon.

“Yeah. Um, so, who’s first this time?” Squirtle hopped off the tiny wooden porch of Treecko’s house.

“Obviously you, Torchic!”

“Why me again?”

“Honestly… I’m with Eevee on this one, Torchic.” Squirtle approached the three of them. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be the seeker.”

Torchic tried to argue back, but after failing to mutter a single word, “Ugh… OK, fine. Can we find a better spot to play first—”

In usual fashion, they had already disappeared before Torchic had even bothered to start counting down.

He sighed weakly. At least now he knew where to find them.

“Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight, …”

“Three, and two, and a one, and ready or not, here I come!”

The summer afternoons brought gushing heat that grazed the skin and hide and assured that no one was willing to spend more than half an hour outside. Not even Squirtle, and especially Eevee. The heightened activity of the nearby guild, in addition to the already crowded streets, only made the heat even worse. The village essentially became a hotspot in this time of year, owing to their terribly lucky close proximity to many mystery dungeons, and few other places of interest that somehow attracted a few more new faces on the streets. They would have to find someplace else secluded, spacious and shaded enough to play instead, so luckily for them…

A few steps into the forest behind town and Torchic arrived at the lake. Everyone knows about the lake, but no one ever really visits it. Even the guild had little to no activity around these parts. But to the five kids of this town and under the angry sun, everything about this lake was very special. Even to Torchic.

“Haha! Found you!”

“Ah!” Torchic found Shieldon behind a boulder barely large enough to cover his massive head.

Before he could get up from his position, however, Torchic nudged closer to him with an unnatural grin. “Hey, Shieldon.” Torchic whispered. “Mind telling me where Eevee is?”

“H-Huh? Isn’t that cheating?”

“Hey! It’s not cheating if she doesn’t—”

“Don’t you tell him, Shieldon! I’m gonna kill you if you…”

The voice halted as sudden as it appeared. Since it came directly from above, Torchic could safely assume that they’ve been hiding in the same spot. Eevee must’ve been betting on Torchic not coming back here after he’d found Shieldon.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t come back here after finding Shieldon…” Eevee said with audible disappointment. Her fur had attracted some loose leaves and twigs on her way down, resembling a knockoff Leafeon with slightly darker fur. “So who’s the seeker now? Shieldon or Squirtle? Torchic?”

Torchic turned back, standing just a couple of steps away from the lake. “Huh?”

“… What do you mean ‘huh’? Also, where were you going? Have you found Squirtle yet?”

“No, actually…” Torchic looked around the lakeside, before fixing his gaze on the water surface. “But surely he wouldn’t… You know…”

“Know what…? Oh!”

Eevee finally knew what Torchic had been bothered by all this time. “Heh! You’re just a wimp, Torchic!”

“No, I’m not,” he cried, “I’m a Fire type! I can’t swim!”

“That’s no excuse.” She said as she quickly ran over to Torchic’s side, lowered her stance, pushing her weight towards her hind. “Watch closely, Torchic… This is how you really become a true seeker.”

Then Eevee plunged right into the lake.

Squirtle is not anywhere near the level of agility that Eevee exhibits, but between him, Eevee and Treecko, he would win almost all of the swimming races, the water fights, the diving contests, and anything related to water. He was a natural. Eevee isn’t the type to easily get mad, but there would be a spectacular display of personality in each and every time Squirtle managed to get ahead of her. And although Treecko wasn’t showing it, sometimes there would be a slightest hint of jealousy that managed to escape afterwards.

But even if Squirtle had left little chance for anyone else to shine, he had never let anyone feel alienated, nor would anyone single him out for that. Torchic had never been able to fully enjoy himself at the lake parties—owing to his typing—but never had he imagined one without him. There’s a hidden relief shared among all of them, that Squirtle has always been with them since the start. Never left them. Funny how that works, isn’t it?

It’s been a while now.

“Have you found him yet?” Torchic asked. Eevee has been down there for quite some time, so he was starting to worry if they’ve been searching the wrong place.

Almost immediately, an oat blob of fur jumped out of the water.

“No, I haven’t…” Eevee panted, fur draping and soaked in lakewater. “Have you searched anywhere else in the meantime?”

“Uh…” To Eevee’s dismay, he has not.

“If he’s not here… then where could he have gone to?”

---

It’s the cold of winter night that shuts even the Noctowls inside. Not to mention the wet and heavy snow around this region—building up in between the narrow streets and producing uncomfortable noises when trudged through. It’s hard to find a soul as willing as the kids are to go out playing so late and in such weather, and even then…

“He’s probably stuck in his house again,” Torchic said, “maybe it’s too cold for him.”

“Or maybe his parents didn’t want him to catch a cold?” Shieldon’s voice came through a thick, woolen scarf.

“Or maybe he’s just a wuss!” Eevee continued despite a warning of language. “We’re out just fine now, aren’t we?”

“Treecko doesn’t want anything to do with the cold… Would you call her a wuss?”

“… No, Shieldon. She’s a Grass type.”

“Typing doesn’t matter.” Torchic cut in.

“All you’re wearing is that beanie! You’re a Fire type, Torchic.” Eevee snapped back. All three of them stopped arguing for a moment.

“… It’s just the three of us, but… I’d say we start without them both.” Eevee spoke up.

“… Right here?” Both Shieldon and Torchic asked.

“Right now! Yeah!”

“Uh, alright— Huh?” Torchic felt a tap on his side, and turned to find Shieldon already right next to him. He figured he had something to say, so he leaned in a bit closer.

“Um… Is it OK if you are the seeker this time? I don’t like standing in the snow.” Shieldon whispered, which came off as somewhat weird to Torchic.

“Yeah, sure. But why are you whispering?” He mumbled back.

“I don’t want Eevee to hear us.”

Eevee’s voice then suddenly broke through their silent conversation. “OK! So who’s first?”

“Yeah, me.” Torchic answered. He willingly went past Eevee and leaned his head on the wall, ready to count. “You guys go hide. Thirty seconds right?”

They’re gone.

Torchic closed his eyes and started counting.

“Thirty. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven. Twenty-six…”

“Three. Two. One. Ready or not, here I come!”

The bakery was, to Torchic, a modest wooden house with a repurposed front, with a gigantic Eevee head plopped on top. It was only a few steps away from the market, but you could smell the fresh morning leppa pies from the very outskirts of the town.

Eevee’s mom ran the place. She would have the berries picked by sundown, and would work from midnight to early dawn to have the pastries ready by morning. And, without a doubt, they sold like hotcakes. Quite literally. Everyone around here would at least get something from the shop once a day. It’s become quite a routine.

But that’s when Eevee usually stops with her baking stories. She doesn’t mention how she spends more time inside the bakery than outside with her friends, or how she sometimes had to work the oven before the sun had risen, or how many scratches and cuts she had gotten from searching for the freshest, the ripest berries so her mom could deliver the best pies to everyone every single day. This would explain her odd hyperactivity, Torchic figured, on the rare occasion that she was allowed outside. Squirtle had thought so too, but he also thought maybe that’s just how she is. Maybe she thought it was too boring or too convoluted to explain to her friends how things really were. Even so, it’s hard to disagree. Eevee’s still Eevee, and that’s all that matters, even if it’s hard to know your friend sometimes.

“Is anyone in hereee?”

The bakery’s usually empty so late at night, but not closed. In fact, it’s often the only place with lights still burning.

“Eevee? Shieldon? Where are youuu?”

No one’s answering his calls. Obviously. He walked around the shelves only to find nothing.

No one’s here, after all. But they couldn’t have gone far.

But then Torchic heard a voice.

“Psst. Torchic.” It was Shieldon’s, in his distinctly quiet tone. “Come here. I’m outside.”

“Shieldon?” Torchic stepped out from behind the shelves and approached the front door, which was still agape. “Are you forfeiting so early?”

The snow started to pick up.

“Come here.” Shieldon led Torchic outside and into the hail. “Let’s go, Torchic.”

Shieldon. He was a kid from the village. He’s also been with us since the beginning, and he was really close to Torchic. But that’s all he could remember of him. Why so?

“Shieldon, where are we going?”

The snow kept on pelting. Shieldon picked up his pace.

Torchic saw in his peripheral vision, rows of houses passing by, and he remembered in each and every one of them…

How they’ve spent the nights together at Mrs. Grovyle’s home.

How they almost ruined Mr. Lombre’s garden in his backyard.

How they kept nosing in on Mr. Shedninja’s odd Wonder Orb collection.

How they’ve so cherished the terrible songs that came from Ms. Kricketune’s home.

How they’ve so despised the terrible Minun and Plusle sisters that the adults kept forcing them to play with.

And how, despite all that he could remember, he couldn’t remember Shieldon.

Wasn’t Shieldon his best friend? Who was he?

But the snow kept on pelting. And pelting. And then it stormed.

And when they’ve finally reached the outskirts, trudging through the mist of white, Torchic saw a white door in the center of the road, half open. Next to it stood a Pokémon—one Torchic had never seen. Her body was shaped like a crescent and rings of glowing pink, piercing through the cloudy air, swirled around her like the linings of a fancy rope.

“Miss Cresselia!” Shieldon greeted the Pokémon with relief, “I’ve found Torchic!”

“Very good. You may rest now, Shieldon.”

“My dear Torchic,” Torchic snapped back to see that Cresselia is now speaking to him. Him only. “What is it you hope to find here?”

“I…” Torchic turned his back. The snow was still storming, clouding his vision. But he could see the village still.

“I want to go back. My friends are still waiting for me.”

“Ah… Hide and seek, is it?” Cresselia lowered her head down to only about Torchic’s height. “I think… I know where they are, Torchic.”

“Huh?”

Torchic shot one last gaze towards the village. Beyond the whistling howls and freezing air of the snowstorm, he felt something else. Eyes watching from afar.

“Would you like to follow me, Torchic?” Cresselia gently nudged him.

“Um… OK…”

“Very good. Please, this way.” Cresselia guided Torchic towards the white door. “Through here.” They both entered, through the frame,

and the door shut right behind them.