“Who’s this?”

  Smiling despite the unfriendly welcome, David stepped forward, placing the takeout boxes on the ground beside Sarah’s own, and offered his hand.

  “Nice to meet you. My name is David.”

  Mr. Fuji looked down at the offered hand, his mouth and hawk-like nose twitching as if it held a sour smell. Without replying, he focused on Sarah and raised a bushy eyebrow.

  David let his hand drop. Grouchy asshole, it is then. First that old woman in the cave and now this. It seemed like Lavender Town had a type. Thankfully, the old man was Sarah’s boss, not his. He just needed to make it through this conversation without making trouble for her and never come back again.

  “Mr. Fuji,” Sarah chided, “This is why no volunteers want to come back. It doesn’t matter what you call the center if you keep treating people this way.”

  The old man’s face twitched again before it was forcibly calmed. His eyebrow fell slower, holding out under the onslaught of Sarah’s displeasure for as long as it could.

  “This is David,” Sarah continued happily. “He’s a friend from Celadon. I ran into him while picking up the lunch order, and he volunteered to help out for a bit today.”

  David’s eyes widened, and he spun his head away from Mr. Fuji to face her.

  I did what now?

  Sarah’s smile grew brighter, if a little strained.

  “This way you can practice with a volunteer that hasn’t heard of your reputation and we can identify what’s going wrong.”

  His what now?

  Mr. Fuji grunted behind David. A puff of hot air brushed against his neck.

  Shivering, David stepped away from the doorway and the center’s owner who had taken a step closer without him noticing.

  The old man had that sour look on his face again. He opened his mouth to-

  A loud clatter came from within the house.

  “Darn it!” Mr. Fuji shouted, turning and stomping back into the house. “That better not be my ceramics!”

  Sarah exhaled in relief.

  David didn’t quite feel the same. What had he just been signed up for? How did a small favor providing an extra hand turn into an extended period as a test dummy?

  “You want to explain something?” he asked in a near hiss.

  She winced, eyes crinkling in apology, before widening and then flattening. “You! You owe me!”

  “What?” Five minutes ago, she’d been thanking him for inspiring her to be here.

  “Celadon!” Sarah exclaimed. She seemed to be coming up with this on the spot. “You left with no notice! Quit the training group. You... you weren’t there for my gym match. Or the studying!”

  David recoiled. “That’s got nothing to do with this-”

  Sarah was not dissuaded. Stepping forward, she pointed a finger at David’s face. “You. Owe. Me.”

  “I-”

  The finger jabbed forward again.

  He groaned. Fine. This day was looking like a mess, anyway. “What do you even want me to do? Rehabilitate the old man or something?”

  She lowered her finger slowly. “No. There’s nothing wrong with Mr. Fuji. I just need you to volunteer for the day.”

  David raised an eyebrow. “So when you said reputation earlier..?”

  “For the full evening,” Sarah clarified. “You can’t leave early. There’s nothing wrong with Mr. Fuji, he’s just brusque and... exact. Especially with strangers. A lot of volunteers were scared away when the center started and now he’s a reputation, fewer people come.”

  As if to echo her words, another crash came from indoors, followed by some muffled shouting.

  “Just this evening,” David confirmed with a sigh.

  Sarah nodded quickly.

  “And you’ll owe me one.”

  She opened her mouth to object, but closed it as further shouting came from indoors.

  “Fine. Shall I bring the boxes inside now or?”

  Sarah looked in the open door and pursed her lips. “Maybe let’s check inside first. I don’t want the food to be jumbled around.”

  A trail of chaos led them into the house. Pictures, plaques, and framed documents littered the floor. There were odd splatters of sand in the corners. A series of spotless branded aprons were strewn down the hall. Each read Lavender Volunteer Pokémon House. Sarah made a tsking noise as she carefully stepped around each one.

  “Oh!” Sarah ducked down and picked up one of the aprons, checking a tag before handing it to David.

  “What do I do with this?”

  “Put it on,” she replied archly. “You’re volunteering.”

  Grumbling, he shoved the apron over his neck. He had a sinking feeling that his first task would involve cleaning up this mess.

  Around the corner, Mr. Fuji was in a standoff with a very strange Pokemon. David’s first thought was a brown Charmander, but the lack of flames on its tail and the bone it wore was a good sign to the contrary. The Pokemon’s entire head was covered by a thick bone, making it unclear if the Pokemon itself had such a long snout or such long ears. It was a little shorter than Pidgeotto, but when a Pokemon jabs a shattered bone at you like a broken bottle, height didn’t amount to much.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Put it down!” Mr. Fuji demanded of the Pokemon.

  To David it was a stupid thing to ask of a Pokemon who was anyway hostile, even if that hostility was less magic powers and more alley shanking at present. What was more ridiculous was what the two of them were fighting over.

  In the Pokemon’s other paw, between a thick mitt-like palm and a single bone claw, it held a greenish-brown bowl. Behind both of them were more similar dishes, like the betting pots of poker players.

  “Marowak!” The Pokemon brandished the sharp shards of its bone again.

  “You got all the planters when you came. The terracotta last week. You don’t get the stoneware, and you’ll never take my porcelain!” the old man ranted.

  “Oh, Mr. Fuji!” Sarah carefully stepped into the room.

  “What!” he snapped, looking away from the standoff.

  Marowak fled, taking the bowl in its hands and gathering another two from its pile.

  Mr. Fuji spun at the noise and made to chase, before noticing a vase teetering dangerously. Cursing, he crouched down and righted it. He turned that ire on Sarah. “What?”

  “You knew this would happen if you let her inside. We spoke about it just yesterday. Why don’t I make a run to the butchers and pick up some-”

  “No! We cannot encourage her to seek out bones here. That can only end in disaster.”

  “But your pots...”

  Mr. Fuji’s shoulders fell. “I’ll lock them in my study. The bowl-” he sighed. “- I won’t be seeing that again, but I can write a letter to a friend on Cinnabar for a replacement.”

  While he stilled in contemplation, Sarah elbowed David and gestured at the mess in the room. It seemed his first guess at his ‘volunteer’ work had been correct. Crouching, David started to gather some of the aprons and tablecloths strewn around the rumor, but not without mouthing a question at Sarah.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  “New arrival,” Sarah answered out loud with a sigh. “Most Pokemon act out at the start, but the Marowak is getting worse over time. She keeps stealing pottery.”

  “Not stealing,” Mr. Fuji declared, waking from his thoughts. “She’s gathering.” Without another word, he grabbed a stack of pots and disappeared into another room.

  When David was sure he was gone, he turned to Sarah. “Pottery?”

  She shrugged. “It’s something about the Pokemon line. They like bone, but Mr. Fuji thinks if we give her any, she’s likely to go searching for more in the town, which, as you can imagine, would go badly...”

  “Marowak and Cubone nest in bone,” Mr. Fuji’s voice came from the other room, slightly muffled but still audible. “They fill their dens with it. However, in areas lacking any they have been observed to form nests with clay instead. It should have been enough.” Anything further was lost through the walls as he descended into mumbling.

  Sarah nodded like the entire encounter was sensible, and David realized with a sinking feeling that a full evening might take more effort than expected. In the next two hours, he was proven to be correct.

  “I said two hundred and forty-seven grams, not three scoops! Two hundred and forty-seven grams! Do you know how to count or not?”

  “Don’t brush, sweep! Sweep!”

  “If you pat that Psyduck, we’ll all get headaches. Leave it alone and get back to your task, you nincompoop!”

  Sarah was never far behind Mr. Fuji, and always ready to interrupt his rants with pointed comments on bringing more volunteers here, but David was starting to understand how far-fetched her plans to rebrand the old man were. He was also already plotting how to spend the favor his friend now owed him. A nice meal was in his team’s future.

  “Okay, I need to file the receipts for this week.” Sarah announced. “Are you two okay to be left here for a while?”

  Mr. Fuji grunted and pulled another bundle of straw from the pile.

  David nodded and gave her a tight smile. He could last a little longer, especially if he ignored the old man. A very nice meal at one of the nicer restaurants in town, he promised himself.

  Sarah left and the next fifteen minutes were spent in utter silence as they cleaned and replaced the bedding in the large barn. Then Mr. Fuji had to ruin it all.

  “What is your starter?” he asked. It wasn’t a demand or at a shout, but his earlier behavior soured the question.

  “A Pidgey,” David responded after a moment. He didn’t repeat the question back. Mr. Fuji carried no pokeballs for all that he was surrounded by Pokemon. That and his presence in this town were enough to head off any questions David might have.

  Mr. Fuji was silent for a moment. “A good Pokemon. We see a lot here.”

  David frowned, trying to find the insult in that statement.

  “Pidgey aren’t like Spearow. The two Flying types are compared a lot, but they aren’t. Where Spearow will flock around one or two Fearow, the Fearow keeping their anger in check, Pidgey only flock when they are young or old. For the rest of their life, they spread out, pushed out of the nest to explore and grow. When we get a Pidgey, they stay a long time, but they rarely come back. Spearow leave fast but they come back.”

  “Is that so?”

  Mr. Fuji nodded, and that was that. It was their first conversation without any insults or snide comments.

  “Mr. Fuji!” Sarah’s voice broke them from their peace again another five minutes later. She stepped into the barn. “You have a visitor.”

  “Hello Mr. Fuji- David? Fancy seeing you here.”

  For the second time today, David turned to see who was calling him.

  Georgio looked quizzically between Sarah and David. The Ranger looked a lot more put together than when David had seen him last, as he gave grave warnings before the trio departed north.

  “Georgio? I thought you headed north?”

  “I did, but then-”

  A heavy bundle of straw fell to the ground with a thump.

  “Why are you here?” Mr. Fuji asked coldly. Two strangers in one day was apparently too much for his tolerance.

  Georgio blinked in surprise. “Oh, I’m posted in the town and thought I’d check in. Pass on some messages.”

  Mr. Fuji was still.

  “I saw the Marowak in your house,“ Georgio said. “I thought you’d sworn off keeping a Pokemon?“

  “It is time we closed for the day,” Mr. Fuji said finally, ignoring Georgio’s question. His voice was clipped.

  “You sure?” Sarah asked, surprise evident in her tone. “The sun’s still out. We wouldn’t need to settle the Pokemon inside for another few hours.”

  “Yes. I will settle the Pokemon. You finish early today.” The center’s owner turned his gaze on David. It was calculating and intense. “Take your friend with you.”

  Sarah protested some more, but Mr. Fuji was resolute. David was more than happy to leave the grouchy old man to Georgio, though he had questions for the Ranger. Eventually Sarah led the way out, taking David’s now much stained apron off him to stuff into a large empty basket which was set aside for the purpose.

  Only when they left the house behind for good did David breathe a sigh of relief.

  “You owe me so much.”

  Sarah laughed hesitantly. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

  “Pallets of baking. Enough to fill a cafe.”

  “It was only three hours,” she protested.

  They bickered the entire way back into town, splitting up by Sarah’s accommodation after making plans for dinner. David walked back to the pokecenter tired and looking forward to a hot shower. He was sure there was still straw in his hair and down his back.

  An angry huddle of people outside the pokecenter proved this day was doomed from the start.

  “What’s going on?” he asked a pacing trainer at the edge of the group.

  The man cursed and threw his cap to the floor. “They closed the route! Middle of the season and they shut it down with no notice. It’s blatant sabotage.”

  Inside, David was able to get more details from one of the many notices posted around the room.

  Route 10 had been shut down effective immediately. All roads and paths north were closed. Rangers had been empowered to arrest anyone trying to breach the cordon. No reason was supplied.

  It was still unpleasant, even if David had seen it coming.

  Update: Story is officially on HIATUS

  Hi All,

  I’m sorry for disappearing for so long, especially without updates. Long story short, is that I’m stuck. I haven’t written a word of anything since last November, and any attempts end with more backspaces than anything else. I don’t know when or if this will change, so I am placing the story on an indefinite pause.

  So what does that mean?

  - After a few days for people to read the notice I will be unpublishing the Patreon page. This will suspend billing indefinitely until the story continues, but it will also hide the creator page from everyone.

  - All unreleased chapters will be published publicly (111-115)

  - I will do my best to be around to answer questions. If you decide you can’t wait, or want to know anything about the story, send me a message or post a comment. This includes the current Arc, future ones or specifics about characters.

  It’s upsetting to make this post, but I would like to thank everyone for reading, enjoying and supporting this story. It grew beyond my expectations as the world of PokeWild expanded. I appreciated every comment and I hope my writing entertained you similarly.

  Have a great day, JibWrite.