Another big tournament in the books.
Which meant about four more weeks until people were gearing up for the next big event. And then it would start all over again.
Four promotion tourneys and one championship per year meant almost every other month featured trainers pushing themselves and their partners to their limits and then past them. It meant around twenty-two weeks of backbreaking, six-day a week labor to make sure that those people and Pokémon were well cared for.
It meant close to half a year where the only time Ella got to spend with her family was during the eight hours she spent awake on Sunday and the small, snatched moments between arrival at home and falling into bed.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true.
In one sense, Ella Alvida-Joy spent almost all of her time with her family.
“Another one for the books, huh Ella?” the nurse felt a hand slap her on the back, but long years of experience working with Ray meant she didn’t even rock her feet.
Ella turned to face her boisterous ‘cousin.’ Mental quotations because, In truth, that wasn’t quite their relationship. Ray was actually Ella’s grandniece, on her mother’s side. Of course, that still placed them closer together in the family tree than most Joys.
Ella ran her eyes up and down the pink-haired woman’s uniformed-covered body. Really, people always said that their clan looked alike, but Ella didn’t see it. How could anyone possibly mix her up with ‘cousin’? Other than pink hair, they didn’t look the same at all.
And yet, invariably, strangers would have a hard time picking them out from one another. Sure, coworkers who knew them could usually figure it out, but to everyone else, sometimes, it felt like ‘Nurse Joy’ was actually just one person in their brain.
Ella had heard that in some regions, their clan played up the resemblance, going so far as to use make-up or dye to homogenize their appearance. Something about branding.
The Ferrum branch of the family had never had that inclination, thank the Golems. Not that it seemed to make much difference in how the general public perceived them.
“Something on my face?” Ray’s curious voice broke Ella out of her reverie.
“No, sorry, just zoned out for a bit,” she shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe how tired I am.”
Ray gave her an arch look. “I’ve been working the exact same shifts as you,” the other Joy replied dryly.
“Yeah, but you don’t have a kid and her three partners at home,” Ella shot back.
“Three?!” Ray blinked a couple of times, which was her equivalent of gasping out loud. “I know you said she’s in the ranger program, but do they really give out partners so freely?”
Ella shook her head, her expression wry. “Not even. They’ll award a ride Pokémon if you advance in the program and pass the academy exam, but otherwise they don’t offer partnerships. No, Fe caught her other two partners from the wild.”
“Wild caught? Isn’t that, you know, illegal?” Ray asked, now sounding concerned.
Again, Ella shook her head. “Depends on the circumstance. One was registered as caught outside the region’s limits, which was its own whole thing, and the other was an unprotected species, so she was free to hold onto them as long as they accepted in the interview.”
“Huh, well I’ll be. I bet that makes the apartment busy,” Ray acknowledged.
Ella couldn’t help it. She let out a full-throated laugh. “Oh you have no idea.”
-
It was late when she finally opened the door to the apartment. At least she had tomorrow off, which meant a rare chance to sleep in. Chansey was already taking advantage of the rest day, napping in her ball.
The lights were off, which hopefully meant Fe was already asleep. Apparently, she’d spent last night at Alyssa’s apartment, celebrating the brunette girls victory in the junior circuit.
Ella wished she could have been there, she had a deep affection for her daughter’s best friend, but every center in the region was swamped after an event of the promotion tournament’s scale. It wasn’t just the official competitors. Seeing those battles got people’s blood up, and the hobbyists took to the fields in droves in the wake of any event. And that wasn’t to mention the general uptick in accidents and back-alleys that always happened around a big tourney.
No, Ella just hadn’t been able to claw out the time. Hopefully Alyssa would forgive her.
The hum of gentle voices caught the nurse’s ear as she stepped further into the apartment. The noise quickly resolved itself into the sounds of the television, apparently showing some sort of late-night drama. Not exactly Fe’s normal watching habits, but maybe she was just having trouble sleeping tonight, or had dozed off with the device still on.
Ella walked over to the living room, but was confused to find the couch seemingly empty. Had Fe gone to bed while leaving the TV on? The nurse cast about, searching for the remote control. It wasn’t exactly easy to spot, since the dim light from the flickering screen was the room’s only source of illumination.
After a few more seconds of searching, she finally spotted it on the coffee table. She leaned down to grab it, only to jerk back with an aborted shriek when a small body next to the device shifted in reaction to her approach.
The gray-furred Pokémon had blended in seamlessly with the coffee table, obscuring them from Ella’s view until they moved. The Maushold looked up, big, beady eyes staring unblinking into her own.
Ella took a steadying breath, and put on what they called in the business, her ‘comforting’ smile. “Good evening Maushold. Having trouble sleeping?”
With unblinking slowness, the Normal-type nodded their head. Ella peered around, searching for the other two rodents, but couldn’t spot them.
“What about your family?” Because that was the term for a singular Tandemaus or a Maushold, a ‘family.’ It made a sort of sense. A Tandemaus was a bonded pair, as if they were married, and they usually adopted another Tandemaus or a singular Maus, the ‘children.’
The relationships weren’t exactly analogous, but humans were always looking for ways to personify Pokémon.
Of course, as a professional Pokémon-carer, Ella knew better. Humans and Pokémon were irrevocably dissimilar. Neither more nor less, just different. And each Pokémon species was equally unique, each in their own ways.
They could work to understand one another, and nowhere was this more evident than in the region where most humans and their partners had literally shared thoughts at one point, but that’s what it was, work. Comprehension didn’t come easily, and treating Pokémon like humans could be a fatal mistake when looking after them at their most vulnerable.
Of course, all of that wasn’t to say that you shouldn’t treat them like people. That was the sticking point that so many regions seemed to get tripped up on, unlike Ferrum, thank the Golems.
Of course, the irony that Ferrum treated Pokémon better than foreigners or those who couldn’t synergize wasn’t lost on Ella, for obvious reasons.
The Maushold looked up at her, tilting their head in thought, as if unsure what to say.
“I can’t promise I’ll understand, but I can offer to listen. Do you want to talk about it?” Ella told the pondering Pokémon, settling gingerly onto the couch.
It took a few false starts, but eventually, the Maushold started talking. The exact words were lost on Ella, but she caught the gist of things. While hardly an expert on Pokémon communications, she still had long years of experience under her belt, and for their part, the Maushold held the same instinctual proficiency with making themself understood that was shared by many Pokémon species.
The thrust of the Normal-type’s concern was loneliness. A bit of back-and-forth elucidated the full context. The Maushold was used to sleeping in a huddle with many others of their species, all cuddled together in a big pile. The other members of their ‘family’ had adapted well to their new home and nest, but the littlest Maushold was having trouble getting used to things. That discrepancy worked to further their creeping sense of isolation, until it had reached the point where it was keeping them up at night.
“Have you talked with Fe at all about this?” Ella asked once she had a better picture of the situation. “She should have noticed your discomfort.” At least, Ella hoped she would have. She always did try to raise her daughter to be a conscientious young lady.
The Maushold made a so-so gesture with one paw.
“So a little bit then?” Ella clarified.
The Family Pokémon nodded an affirmation, and Ella pursed her lips.
“Well, I can think of a few things you could try, but the most important step is to communicate. I’m sure Fe and your family can tell that something is wrong, but if you don’t explain to them what you're feeling, and why, they won’t be able to help you.”
The Maushold turned away, looking back towards the flickering screen.
“I know it’s hard,” Ella consoled the Normal-type, “but those types of conversations are for all of your sakes. It’s only been a little over a week right now, but imagine if this festers for longer. How do you think they’ll feel down the line if they find out you’ve been feeling this way for months? Or years?”
A small jerking motion came from the Maushold which Ella took as a suppressed shudder. “Right? If it’s that unpleasant to imagine, just think of what it'll be like to experience,” she reached out a careful hand, and when the Pokémon didn’t flinch away, she ran a couple of fingers up and down the Normal-type’s fuzzy head, offering them what reassurances she could.
Slowly, gradually, the Maushold’s head began nodding. Every time it started, they’d jerk back up, but moments later, Ella’s careful ministrations would have them fading again. Eventually, they slumped down, and didn’t try to rise again. Soft, even breaths told Ella that they had finally dozed off, and she went to put a gentle hand underneath the Normal-type.
Before she could, however, some quiet chitters caught her attention. The other two Maushold popped up, emerging from their hiding place underneath the couch and scrambling onto the coffee table. They fondly ran their paws down the side of the sleeping Pokémon’s head, before turning to Ella. They both offered polite little bows, clear expressions of gratitude to which Ella made a waving hand-motion, trying to say it was no trouble. Gingerly, one of them helped perch their sleeping companion atop the other’s head. They stopped for a moment, when the dozing Maushold’s breath hitched, but the little Pokémon stayed thankfully asleep. The other two sagged in relief, and then began scurrying towards Fe’s room.
Watching the two larger mauses abscond with their ‘child’ conjured images of her own daughter in Ella’s head. A small girl, perched atop her father’s shoulders, watching an enthralling battle in a local arena. That same girl, proudly showing her new mom how good her scores were in class. Ella’s lovely daughter, wailing her soul free from her body as cruel chance crushed her dreams before she could even begin to explore them.
Quietly, Ella followed the scampering Maushold. She widened the cracked door to her daughter’s room, just barely catching the sight of two furry behinds vanishing under the bed.
When was the last time Ella had been in here? Gone were the posters, torn down months ago during Fe’s fit. The bookshelf looked far more bare as well, just a few spines lining its shelves, compared to the veritable library of study material that used to rest upon it. Her daughter’s desk was almost completely bare, barring one eye-catching exception. A massive tank completely dominated the former study-space, decorated with a cacophony of seaweed and false coral and shiny pebbles. A drifting shape in the aquarium was faintly illuminated by a glowing stone, maybe some sort of night-light, and the combination cast warped, piscine shadows on the ceiling.
Scattered throughout the space, where toys and battle trainer cards had once littered the floor, were instead a PokéHome Warehouse’s worth of pillows and cushions. Scattered spheres slumbered noisily atop the various impromptu beds, shifting with metallic creaks and letting out soft little snores.
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And nestled in her bed, covers tucked up to her chin, was Fe, face peaceful in repose. It felt like- months, since Ella had really stopped, and taken a good look at her daughter. When had her cheeks gotten so lean? Since when did she sleep with an eye mask? Her hair was getting long, almost past her shoulders now. Did she like it that way, or had she just not gotten around to getting it cut yet?
Unable to stop herself, Ella stepped into her daughter’s bedroom. It should have felt like returning to a familiar space, but instead, the nurse was confronted with the feeling of intrusion. Like she was exploring the chambers of some half-remembered stranger.
Slowly, carefully, she navigated around the sleeping Falinks, making her way to the side of her daughter’s bed.
Ella wasn’t sure how long she stood there, just staring down at a girl she felt like she hardly recognized. No, a young woman. She reached down, still not feeling in control of her own actions, and brushed her hand through Fe’s sable hair.
Her daughter stirred, but did not awaken, shifting minutely. Ella couldn’t get a sense of whether she was leaning into, or away from her touch.
Slowly, painfully, the nurse retracted her hand, and retreated from the room, her fingers itching oddly, as if scalded.
Something shifted, catching her eye, and she turned her head to find a pair of eyes watching her, following her movements as she made for the door. One of the Falinks, awake and alert while the rest of them slumbered. Had they always been awake? Did they sleep in shifts, or had this one noticed Ella’s intrusion?
Somehow, Ella found herself at a loss. She just didn’t know. Falinks were a foreign Pokémon, Fe’s partners the only ones in the entire region, she’d checked. And that wasn’t to mention the other oddity on her daughter’s team. No one had ever heard of a ‘Yowashi,’ as far as Ella could tell, even though one’s shadow was currently darkening the ceiling above her head.
How could she know so little about her daughter, and about the Pokémon under her care? Chagrined, Ella nodded to the watching Falinks, who’s eyes softened slightly, but continued to follow her as she left the room.
She’d been busy. So had Pern. Sometimes, it felt like every day meant working more for less. And yet, they both loved their jobs. Ella wouldn’t trade being Nurse Joy for basically anything, and she knew that Pern had dreamed of being a Battlefield developer for his entire life.
And yet. And yet, that didn’t excuse the fact that Ella could count the number of conversations she’d had with her daughter on two hands since the young woman had joined the ranger corps. Being busy didn’t excuse it. She’d been— scared. Yes, afraid, ever since the start of the year. When Fe had found out about her synergy sickness.
It was worse than fear. Ever since Ella had been unable to free her daughter from that awful torpor, terror had plagued her. The spine-chilling, mind-numbing sense that maybe, deep down, the girl she loved with all her heart didn’t truly think of her as ‘mom.’
The creeping dread, stalking her every thought, that the family she’d built for herself was but a nest of lies. A world she’d invaded. An identity she’d usurped.
Ella’s own words came back to her. How would her daughter and her husband feel if they knew about these worries? These terrible thoughts clawing their way into her mind? Would they reassure her? Tell her that it was all in her head? Tell her that they loved her and that they’d be a family always?
Or would all of her fears be justified? Would her world crash down around her?
Ella hated that she was too much of a coward to find out. Hated that she couldn’t tell her grand-niece the real reason she couldn’t sleep at night.
Hated that the family she loved more than anything somehow felt like a noose, tightening itself around her neck.
-
“This is unacceptable.” Franklin Madaka ground out, eyes glued to a repeating scene on a grainy television.
A young woman, no, a girl, hair brown and eyes disinterested, holding up a gleaming trophy more for the cheering crowd’s sake than her own.
“You told me she was talentless. That she’d be back in my hands before the year is out,” he turned his glare onto the squirming young man in front of him.
“Well, technically the year’s not over yet,” The sneaselly youth protested weakly. “So I’m not wrong yet.”
“SHE’S BORED YOU SIMPERING IDIOT,” Franklin roared. “SHE JUST WON THE BIGGEST TOURNAMENT SHE COULD FOR HER AGE AND IT BORED HER!”
The man cringed, sinking into his chair like he wanted it to consume it. Franklin almost wished for the same. He never had liked his brother’s first (and only) son. No backbone in the boy. But he was a boy, which meant he was slated to inherit the company.
If only his rebellious daughter had been born a man! The least the little ingrate could do was let him marry her off to a worthy successor. Someone who shared his vision for the company. For the family.
So what if the candidates were a little bit older than her? It’s not like he could have a child take on his life’s work.
No, it had to be someone experienced, someone tested.
Someone to make sure that this worthless fool in front of him never came even close to breathing on Franklin’s current position.
He could see it now, his brother’s feckless spawn driving everything he’d built, everything he’d worked for into the ground. The youth had no spine, no fire, no drive. Just dull, mindless ambition and cruel gluttony. And yet he couldn’t be rid of the boy, for the venerable Madaka bloodline continued on only in two people.
Why had his ancestors cursed him so? Saddling him with this worthless generation. An unfilial daughter, and a painfully mediocre nephew.
Truly, the world's greatest were also its most tested.
“Just give me until the end of the year. I’ll get her back here, I swear!” The man wheedled, sounding like an overdue debtor. “Sure she won some stupid junior tournament, but the real scene will eat her up and spit her out again.”
“I highly doubt that,” Franklin drawled. “For all her lack of filial piety, she is my daughter. Of course her battling would be extraordinary. I never should have doubted that.” The businessman shook his head mournfully. “No, the time for passive measures is over. Ensure that my daughter returns to me, Mueller, or everything you’ve worked for will be for naught.”
The brown-haired youth visibly gulped, sweat beading atop his brow at the threat.
“You’ll have her sir! You’ll see! I’ll get on it right away!” Seizing the excuse like a drowning man thrown a life preserver, Mueller scrambled free from the smothering chair, fleeing the room in a tangle of limbs and stinking desperation.
The fool. He had no idea he worked against his own interests. He thought that getting Alyssa married off into another family would free up the line of succession, ensuring his ascension. Instead, it would be his undoing, allowing Franklin to elevate someone more worthy.
Yes, soon, he’d have his best bargaining chip right back where she belonged. He’d have to work around those blasted Joys, but there were levers he could pull, buttons to press to make them overlook his actions. Nothing was impossible when you were as powerful as the Madaka family.
-
“Young master, the investigator you hired has found your brother.”
Grimsley couldn’t help it, he let out a sigh of relief. It was unbecoming for a man of his station, but the sheer release of tension he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding overpowered his admittedly lacking sense of propriety.
“Thank the genies. How soon until we can get him back?” he asked the butler as they walked to the dining room for their family’s morning meal.
Really, this was the best possible news Grimsley could have gotten. He’d been worried sick about Worryn ever since the young man had fled Unova after his little ‘coup.’
He got it, he really did, it was hard to come crawling back asking for forgiveness after trying to depose your relative, but Grimsley was more than willing to forgive and forget. Worryn was family, after all.
The butler pursed his lips, uncharacteristically hesitant. Grimsley felt a small percolation of concern. “What’s the matter Chire, is he somewhere hard to get at? I’ll go pick him up myself if that’s what it takes.”
The man let out a cough. “Apologies, young master. I rather suppose I phrased my news badly. I rather meant to say that we discovered what became of your brother.”
Now alarm bells were ringing in Grimsley’s head. “What do you mean, Chire? Surely you can’t be implying…”
“A discreet DNA test confirmed it, young master. His body was reportedly– unrecognizable.”
Grimsley felt the floor fall out from under him. He staggered back, leaning against a wall for support.
“Young master!” Chire shouted, racing to his side.
Grimsley held up a hand, taking deep breaths. “What– what happened?” he finally managed to ask. “What happened to my little brother?”
The aging butler’s eyes softened. “It’s not easy to hear, young master. Perhaps you should retire to your quarte-”
In an uncharacteristic fit of anger, Grimsley reached out and grabbed the servant’s collar. “Tell me Chire! I have to know! What happened to him?”
The old man blinked a few times, and then let out a quiet sigh. “It seems likely he was killed by his own partner, young master.”
Nerveless hands released Chire’s collar. “Mayal? Sweet Mayal? No, that’s impossible? They’ve been together since they both could hardly walk?”
It was subtle, but this close, Grimsley caught it. A slight tightening around the jaws, a subtle wince. Practically a full-faced grimace from the old butler. “Chire, you don’t seem surprised. This is unthinkable, isn’t it? One of our family’s prized Zoroarks turning on her trainer? If this gets out, we’ll be ruined.”
The aged servant looked away. “Young master– you and your father have always been rather blind to Worryn’s, shortcomings.”
The answer was as diplomatic as it was damning. “What do you mean, Chire?” Grimsley asked, though the sinking pit in his stomach told him that he had already intuited the answer.
“Young master Worryn was always– particular with his training. I fear that in the last few years, as he began falling behind you, his methods only became more brutal. I shudder to think what he might have resorted to away from your family’s eyes, in a backwards region.”
The hits kept coming, and Grimsley felt his legs collapsing, his knees burying themselves into their foyer’s plush carpet. “Are you saying–” he took a deep breath. “Are you saying he was abusing her, Chire?”
The butler hesitated. “I would never say that about one of your esteemed family,” he hedged. “And if any other servants had observed any untoward behaviors, well, it’s our job to be discreet.”
Grimsley grit his teeth. “And what of my father? Did he know? Mother? What of the elders?”
Again, Chire looked away, unwilling to offer comment on the matter. His silence was answer enough.
A bitter laugh escaped Grimsley’s lips. “Ah, apparently I was the only one left in the dark. Get it? The Dark?” He chuckled faintly at his own horrible joke. A hollow sound. “Because I’m a Dark specialist.”
“Hilarious, young master,” Chire replied with a perfectly straight face.
“Where is he?” Grimsley asked, voice thick with repressed emotion. “Where did they find my brother?”
“Ferrum, young master. A small region south of the equa-”
“I know where Ferrum is!” Grimsley snapped, “I didn’t fail geography, man.” Grimsley wracked his brain, trying to think why his late brother might have fled to that particular hinterland region. The place’s only important export was iron as a way of bypassing Sinnoh’s stranglehold on the material, and there were only two cities of any real size in the entire damned place. A few interesting archaeological sites for legend-chasers. A weird, non-standard battling style.
There. That was it. They did one-on-one battles there, using some sort of odd technology that didn’t work anywhere else. The other details escaped him, but that had to have been his brother’s motivation.
And now he was dead. And a murderous Zoroark was loose in a foreign region. A murderous, Gima-family Zoroark. This truly could ruin them.
“Chire, tell my mother that I won’t be making it for breakfast today,” Grimsley stood and took off, racing towards the mansion’s front entrance. He tapped the device on his wrist, awakening his Xtransceiver even as he approached the front door.
“Young master!” Chire shouted from behind him, hustling to catch up. “Please, you can’t let this news interfere with your run towards the Elite Four. The Gima family has been trying to get this foothold for generations!”
“There won’t be a Gima family if we don’t get Mayal back!” Grimsley retorted back at the old servant. “If the League finds out that we’ve lost control of one of our Zoroark, that she killed her trainer, they’ll revoke our breeding license! Without that, we’ll be nothing!”
That brought the aging butler up short, Chire stopping in his tracks, as his thoughts caught up with Grimsley’s own concerns.
“I’m assuming this reached my ears first? I am the head of the family after all,” Grimsley called out, stopped by the entrance to the mansion.
Woodenly, Chire nodded.
“Well, tell the elders then, and inform them I’m on my way to address the situation. They must get on top of damage control, do you understand? Or our family is done!”
Chire nodded, his face ashen. “It will be done, young master.”
Grimsley left him behind, stepping out of their mansion’s doors into the morning sun. The Xtransceiver on his wrist beeped, a yawning, purple-haired woman picking up his call. “Grimmy? What is it? It’s too early in the morning for this.”
“It’s nine AM Shauntal,” he ground out, before taking a deep breath and getting a hold of himself. “I’m sorry, that’s no way for me to go about this. My deepest apologies for waking you, but I must beg a dramatic favor. Would you be willing to lend me the aid of your Golurk?”
Bleary, bespectacled eyes blinked back at him from the Xtransceiver’s tiny screen. “Golly-pie? Whatever for?”
“It’s– a family affair,” Grimsley confessed. “I need their help getting to Ferrum, a small region, perhaps a thousand-miles south of here. Past Hoenn.” Grimsley explained. “Would they be willing to assist?”
“Ferrum? Isn’t that place quite hostile to foreigners?” The Ghost-specialist asked, her dark pupils shining with concern. “Whatever do you need to go there for?”
“Like I said, family,” Grimsley replied. “Please Shauntal. I’ll owe you a great favor.”
The woman laughed, a giggling chitter that rang like bells from his Xtransceiver’s tiny speaker. “Oh Grimmy, of course we’ll help. That’s what friends are for! Give us just a moment to get ready, and we’ll be right along to pick you up.”
“Thank you, Shauntal.” Grimsley offered a pallid smile. “I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon,” the woman shut their connection off, leaving Grimsley standing alone in the harsh morning light. His eyes traced a small path worn in the carefully manicured lawn, memories of small feet and paws frolicking together through the dewy grass playing through his mind. Something wet fell on his cheeks, and it took him a few moments to realize they were tears, dripping down his face and adding to the morning pearls dotting the vibrant greenery at his feat.
His brother was dead. Little Worryn. His only sibling. The little firebrand. His little brother.
Grimsley dropped again, crouching in the trimmed grass. With a snap and a hiss, a familiar presence appeared at his side. A heavy, metallic hand reached down, patting him on the shoulder as he leaked his sadness into the ground below.
