Chapter 4

  No one has ever won at a claw machine. No one but her, that is. She stared at the Shedinja plushie sitting on a chair across from her bed; it stared back. She had won it at a carnival in Turfield years ago. Though, she hadn't touched it in years. Five years to be exact. It sat there collecting dust on a chair she also hadn't touched in years. She remembered that day like it was yesterday; it was a memory her mind unwillingly drifted to in times like this.

  She remembered the bright lights against the pretty pink sky; that was one thing that Turfield had going for it, the horizon was always a sight to behold. She remembered the food. She had a burger; it was good as far as carnival standards went. But he had cotton candy; she thought it was too sweet and sticky, especially on a hot summer's day. They don't get those anymore. She remembered being dragged to go on the Ferris wheel even when she had made it explicitly clear; that was the one ride she didn't want to go on. She didn't do well with heights. She hated it at the time, but present her would've told her to shut the hell up and enjoy the moment. And finally she remembered the claw machine. They spotted it on their way out of the carnival. She could still hear his voice.

  Stella! Please win it for me?

  He always loved that stupid bug.

  She won it on her first try; she'd never lost a single time since then. Though, she also didn't use them very often as to keep the streak going hot.

  She shivered; stop fucking thinking.

  Her room was dark. The lightbulb had gone out months ago, and neither she nor her parents had bothered to fix it. The only thing illuminating the room was the small amount of light peering through her window's curtains; it really did feel like winter. The sound of water pattering against her window kept her sane; she hated silence, despite what you may think. She just didn't like the sound of other people's voices. She wondered what Bell was doing; she wished she wasn't. But he had a way of carving out a place for himself in your mind without your permission, it wasn't like she had many other people to think about. She had thought about what he wanted from her, but she would never do it. She's not a babysitter. Arceus knows she doesn't need more problems, and what was he if not one big, inconvenient, scrawny problem. The only company she needed was herself.

  ...

  She heard her front door open. Her parents voices filtered throughout the house like a dam failing and destroying an entire small city.

  "Fuck." She got up and walked to her closet.

  She threw on a black rain jacket and opened her curtains. It was pouring rain out there, but the last thing she wanted to do was talk to her parents. The sound of the rain hitting the grass beneath her window intensified as she pulled it open. She took one step out. Where would she go? Anywhere but here.

  ---

  Has anyone ever actually won at a claw machine?

  That's the question I've been asking myself for the past thirty minutes while trying to win a Quick Ball out of the claw machine in the Pokémart. It started as a trip to buy gloves for my frostbitten hands and quickly devolved into a never-ending cycle of 'I've got it for sure this time.' I wouldn't be in this situation if the weather in Galar wasn't so awful; this damn rain is keeping me stuck here. The Quick Ball is far and away the best prize, and the people who stocked this thing know it. It's placed neatly above all the other plushies and shitty electronics that stop working before you even take them out of the box. And while you might think that this would make it easier to get, you would be dead wrong. The light from the top of the box shines on the ball as if it's some mystical object; a sword in a stone. And much like a sword in a stone; it's damn near impossible to get out.

  The claw itself is volatile, never having one set strength level. It seems to change every time I deposit more of my not so hard earned money into the machine. That means that my attempts range from almost there to not even lifting the thing off the ground. But through all of these attempts, I have managed to get it right next to the hole where you are supposed to drop it. it's literally this close, imagine that I'm pinching my fingers together, this close.

  I keep Rocky inside of his Pokéball because I know that If I somehow manage to snag it, he won't stop pestering me until it's his. That's looking like more of a pipe dream with every passing attempt however. But it will all be worth it! I'm not sure how much it would cost to just buy a Quick Ball normally, but if it's anything compared to the Dusk Ball, it can't be more than what I've spent on this machine. I let out a groan as I deposit more coins into the coin slot. The claw whirs to life as the machine plays that annoyingly catchy jingle it plays before each attempt. I grip the joystick and, skillfully, maneuver the claw above the Quick Ball. There have been a few times where I missed the ball completely, but my depth perception decided to stop fucking around, so that hasn't happened since the first few attempts. I hold my breath—

  The claw lifts the ball up off the ground. My heart is fucking racing. Is this what gambling feels like? I think I see the appeal now. The speed that this stupid claw is going was making me anxious, could it go any slower— I think I might pass out. I grip onto the sides like a madman staring at the claw when—

  "Fuck!"

  I cover my mouth; I may have said that too loudly, but who gives a fuck? The ball hits the side of the hole with clink and falls back into the sea of plushies. I silently curse under my breath and prepare to deposit more money from my stupid wallet into this equally stupid, but not nearly as fun, machine.

  "What are you doing?"

  I spin around faster than a Snorlax hearing the words 'free food!' Though, I don't think most Snorlax care about price tags.

  To no one's surprise, it's Stella. When did she get in here, and how? The front door, obviously, but I didn't see her come in, and I'm right in front of it. Maybe that's just a testament to how concentrated I am on this dumb game. Her black raincoat is soaking wet and getting water all over the floor. I suppose that's not her fault, though. That's another thing; it is pouring rain outside. It was fine when I walked here, freezing sure, but it wasn't raining. But by the time I was ready to leave, Wedgehurst had been consumed by a monsoon, and it wasn't like I could just walk back to the lab in nothing but a sweatshirt and jeans, so I started playing the claw machine.

  "What does it look like?"

  "It looks like you're trying to win at a claw machine. You know those things are rigged right? How much have you spent?"

  Yeah, as if she cares about my financial well-being.

  "Too much," I dig through my wallet to find more coins. I only have a few more, "And yeah I know they're rigged, but I'm this close."

  I deposit a few coins into the slot, "Sounds like you're desperate."

  "Well I've spent this much time on it already, I'm not giving up now." I put my hand on the joystick, "What are you doing here anyway?"

  "Let me try." She ignores my question.

  "But, I just paid." I say.

  "I'll pay you back if I lose just let me try."

  For some reason, I don't believe that. But what the hell, maybe she's secretly a pro at claw machines, I doubt it though. I step away from the machine and let her take a crack at it. There's no way—

  "Got it." The ball slinks down the chute as I watch in absolute horror.

  She bends down and picks the ball up.

  "How—," I stutter, "I don't even—"

  "Take it." She tosses the ball into my arms as I clumsily catch it, "You paid for it."

  I take off my backpack and place it next to the Dusk Ball in the pocket I have designated for Pokéballs, "How did you do that? I've been trying for like forty minutes."

  She shrugs and gives a vague answer like she always does, "I'm a miracle worker."

  Then she walks away, never to be seen again.

  Until thirty minutes later when she comes back to leave, and I'm still waiting for the storm to pass.

  "You're still here?" She asks.

  "You think I'm gonna walk back in the pouring rain?"

  "Mh," she says, "You know, you could have used all of those coins to call a cab, there's a phone booth right outside."

  Phone booth?

  "A phone booth? What is this? The 1900's?" I retort.

  "Or you could use a phone, oh, you don't have one," well she got me there, I probably shouldn't be making stupid remarks, she is right after all.

  "Well, I'm out," I say, "Do you have any—

  The pattering stops.

  "Would you look at that." Stella opens the front door.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  I follow her out. There is still a light drizzle, but it's manageable. The cold is there as always, but I've already complained enough about that; I'll need to get used to it eventually. We start walking back in the direction of the lab—did she walk here? No way, not in the rain.

  "You didn't walk here did you?" I ask.

  She keeps her hands in her pockets, "You'll never know."

  Yeah, I probably should have expected that. She fiddles with Scorbunny's Pokéball inside of her pocket. I take a look at our surroundings.

  The Pokémart is situated in front of a few battle arenas. I had this idea earlier, you can decide if it's a good one or not; I don't really care. If my amnesiac charm isn't enough to coerce Stella into helping me, than maybe I just have to use brute force.

  Alright, I could have phrased that better. What I meant is this: If I can beat her in a battle, than she has to help me. But I don't think she's stupid enough to take a one sided deal, so I'll tell her that I'll leave her alone if she wins. Am I really going to do that? No, probably not, but it won't matter if I win!

  "Stella, can I make a proposal?" I ask.

  "To who?"

  What?

  "To who? To you!" I say, "Who else?"

  "I don't know." She shrugs.

  "Well? Can I?" I ask again

  "Are you asking my permission to talk?"

  "Uh," well that makes it sound like I'm a kid asking his parents for permission to speak, "Yes?"

  She deadpans, "If it will get you to shut up."

  "Oh it definitely won't."

  "Then don't—"

  "Let's battle." I interrupt her for once.

  She turnes around, "Battle?"

  "Yeah, battle, you do know what that is right?" The sarcasm in my tone is so palpable you could smell it. Although, the more that I think about it that might just be my breath. I should probably invest in a toothbrush. And toothpaste and deodorant—

  "Have you ever battled before?" She asks.

  No.

  "Uh, have you?" I retort.

  "Once."

  "Did you win?" I ask.

  "By a landslide," She says confidently.

  Oh. Well, that makes my job a lot harder. Maybe she's lying?

  "So is that a yes?" I ask.

  "It's a no."

  She turns back around and keeps walking. Fuck.

  "Wait, let me sweeten the deal." I say.

  She turnes around, "I'm listening."

  "If I win, you have to help me—"

  She starts walking again.

  "Arceus Let me finish, but if you win, I'll leave you alone."

  She stops, "You'll leave me alone?"

  "Yup."

  "Are you lying?"

  Yes

  "No."

  She thinks for a moment, for a long moment, "Fine."

  I let out a restrained 'Yes!' under my breath. But that was the easy part, I really have to win this.

  ---

  Stella kneels down and whispers something to her Scorbunny. He can barely contain his excitement; sparks fly out of the pads on his feet every time he hops off of them. With one word from Stella, he straightens himself out and walks calmly onto the field. A very annoyed-looking Dottler creates a thin barrier around the arena. I don't think that's necessary for a battle of this caliber, but better safe than sorry, I guess. I have already released Rocky, though we haven't communicated at all except for a brief second of eye contact; it felt like that was all that was needed. The battlefield is still damp from the rain; Scorbunny is at a disadvantage. Granted, the wet ground will also make it harder for Rocky to use rock-type moves, but I digress.

  Stella adjusts her hat and whispers something to herself. She gives no warning before issuing her first order.

  "Quick Attack!"

  The pads on his feet and nose flare to life, unaffected by the wet ground, as he begins charging at Rocky. I barely had time to reac—

  "Sand Attack!"

  Rocky shakes his head and braces for the attack instead. He withdraws into his shell and prepares for impact. Scorbunny tackles the rock headfirst, sending it skidding into the barrier. I want to berate him for not listening to my order, but then I use the brain that Arceus gave me and think about it a little harder. Sand attack wouldn't have done shit with the wet ground; he would've ended up just lobbing a ball of partially wet dirt at him, which wouldn't have had nearly the same effect. I need to focus the fuck up; how is Rocky thinking more clearly than me?

  Rocky appears out of his shell; luckily, it isn't damaged in any way, but he's clearly shaken.

  "Quick Attack!" She yells again.

  Fuck, she is way too fast for me. Rocky isn't nearly fast enough to hope to dodge him.

  "Wait for it and faint attack," I whisper; he's close enough to hear me.

  Scorbunny reaches him in only a few seconds. Dwebble withdraws into his shell as Scorbunny rams into him again, but he's ready this time. He peeks his head out at the moment of impact and bites down on the rabbit's arm. That isn't quite what I had in mind, but I suppose it'll do. He stands his ground and remains unmoving, unlike last time. Scorbunny squirms in his mouth but can't manage to free himself.

  "Throw him and Rock Blast!"

  Rocky swings his head forward and sends Scorbunny tumbling towards Stella. The rocks had already been raised before he could even stand up. The first three hit him, knocking him back down each time he tried to get up. but he manages to get back on his feet by the fourth and final one, sending them into the barrier on Stella's side. Scorbunny wipes his nose.

  "Quick Attack," she says.

  Again? The same trick won't work again for us at least. I have even less time to prepare for this one.

  "Withdraw!" It's the best move I can come up with on the fly; Rocky seems to agree.

  Scorbunny slams into the rock again; Rocky doesn't budge, but I know that must've dazed him at the very least. Unfortunately for me, Stella picks up on this.

  "Ember." She orders.

  Scorbunny picks up the rock and inhales as he prepares to launch an ember inside. All I can do is yell for Rocky to snap out of it. He exhales as he unleashes a short but seemingly powerful barrage of flames into his shell. The smug look on Stella's face disappears as Scorbunny does possibly the silliest thing he could've done: take a peek inside of the rock.

  "Don't do that!" Stella yells.

  Too late. Rocky re-emerges from his rock and slashes the bunny in the face; the fire has clearly damaged him, but he is still well enough to fight. His attack slices right through the pad on Scorbunny's face; he instinctively reaches up to assess the wound, but that shit isn't going to fly around here.

  "Fury Cutter!" I yell before they can get their shit together.

  Rocky slashes the bunny in the chest, snapping him out of whatever pain-induced trance he was in and back to reality.

  "Double kick!" She yells.

  Damn, they are resilient.

  Scorbunny jumps in the air.

  "Withdraw!" I say.

  I may have underestimated the strength in this rabbit's legs. I wince when the first kick makes a surprisingly loud crack and get even more scared when the second causes it to splinter, much to Rocky's annoyance. He pees out of his shell and attempts to bite his foot, only to get kicked in the face instead. He slides backwards.

  "Smack down!" I yell before Scorbunny could find himself back on the ground.

  He gladly obliges and raises a rock from the earth in only a second. The rock hits Scorbunny out of the air and throws him into Stella's barrier. He struggles to stand up, but when he does, the flames leaking out of the pad on his nose are extremely evident. But he isn't angry; it looks like he's having the most fun he'd had in ages. Something's different, though; fire pulses out of his pads at a rapid rate. Must be some gimmick I haven't heard of.

  "You can still fight." Stella says, "We're not losing to a rock."

  Scorbunny nods and refocuses himself.

  "Quick attack and double kick." She says, "Focus."

  Scorbunny takes a deep breath.

  "Withdraw—"

  Too late, he's already here. He jumps up high in the air; the first kick cracks Rocky's shell and makes him slide backwards towards me. He prepares to withdraw as Scorbunny descends rapidly. But that's not going to work; I'm not sure how much more his shell can take.

  "Attack!"

  The command is vague on purpose. Only he knows what's best in this situation. Rocky closes his eyes as Scorbunny closes the gap. Right as his foot was going to make contact—

  "NO!"

  A pillar of stone erupts from the earth and smashes into Scorbunny midair. The rabbit breaks through the weak wet stone with ease, but it dazes him. He hits the ground, blinded and confused.

  "Rock Blast!"

  "Get out of there!" She yells.

  Her order is in vain. All five stones hit Scorbunny square in the face. He makes one last attempt to stay conscious.

  The flames on his nose and feet go out, and he hits the ground with a soft thud.

  The barrier goes down.

  Did I win? Did I fucking win?

  Rocky looks back at me in disbelief.

  "Holy fuck."

  Stella recalls Scorbunny and says something to the Pokéball before shoving it back into her pocket. This look on her face; it isn't anger or annoyance like I thought it would be. She's smiling. She adjusts her hat again and starts walking over to me.

  The adrenaline that Rocky was experiencing must have worn off; he's sitting in the middle of the field, withdrawn into his shell and panting so loud that I can hear it from here. I recall him; I'll congratulate him on his performance after I get him to a Pokémon Center. Stella saunters over to me with her hands in her pockets and an expression on her face that isn't mild annoyance, which is her default.

  "That was... fun." She speaks first.

  "Well, isn't that the point?" I ask.

  She scratches the back of her head. "I guess."

  ...

  "So—"

  "You won." I see she's still going to keep cutting me off. "I'm a girl of my word; besides, you wouldn't last a day in the wild area by yourself."

  Let's. Fucking. Go.

  ---

  Circhester

  Prancer's lab was a mess; it almost looked worse than she did. Papers upon papers filled with scientific jargon were strewn all over the floor. A foul smell was present everywhere in the room. They couldn't quite place it, but they were sure it had something to do with that fridge in the corner of the room. It was the kind of fridge used for storing chemicals and other stuff that they weren't nearly qualified to understand.

  "Get out," she said as they opened the door and entered.

  She was laid out on the floor with her legs straight and her hands placed on her chest. She stared up at the ceiling, her body unmoving.

  "We need your help." The other man said.

  "Well, I'm not in the helping mood." She retorted.

  The first man took a good look at her. She always looked like a mess. Her blue hair was unkempt and much too long; he wondered when was the last time she had a haircut. But other than the bags under her eyes and her messy hair, she looked relatively normal.

  "Dude, are you sure she's withdrawing?" The first man whispered.

  "Shut up, I've got this," the other man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of rare candies. "Even for these?"

  She looked up. "Is that supposed to change my mind?"

  The first man facepalmed, "Idiot." He muttered.

  "Uh," he was at a loss for words, "Yes?"

  She sat up. "What? You think I'm a junkie just because I'm overworked and paid in jellybeans?"

  Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. Her real payment was getting to live, but that couldn't be an easy thing to talk about.

  "Well..." The other man stuttered, "Past few days you was acting weird. I thought—"

  "You thought you could exploit me? Who do you think produces those?" She stood up.

  The other man looked down at his feet like a child who had been caught doing something bad. "So then, what was with all that? You were paler than a Cursola!"

  "I had the flu, asshole. Give me that shit." She extended her arm and opened her hand. The other man abashedly walked over to her and placed the candies in her palm.

  "Now get the fuck out," she said.

  The two men turned their backs, defeated. "Leave that."

  They were now realizing that it was probably a stupid idea to bring the container with the creature inside before getting her to agree. The other man turned to her.

  "Just tell us what it is, yeah? We'll make it worth your while." He pleaded.

  "Fuck no," she laughed, "You're lucky I'm not reporting this to Maryam; now get out and never come back. Please."

  The other man muttered something under his breath and left her with one parting insult, "You're a bitch."

  She chuckled as they shut the door, "Sure..."

  She opened the small plastic bag with the rare candies inside. She popped one inside of her mouth and exhaled in relief, "Fucking idiots."

  She walked over all of the age-old papers on the ground towards the container. Some of these have probably been here for years. She knelt down to get a better look at the thing. It was a mass of swirling black mist, never standing still even for a second. She could spot a pair of glowing red eyes in the center of the storm. It wanted to look angry, but she could tell its true emotions, even if it was just two red dots. It was in pain.

  "Oh, you poor thing." She said

  She couldn't tell exactly what it was, some sort of mutation if she had to guess. But nothing like Maryam's experiments. She felt guilty for a moment, but it didn't last long. The rare candy made sure of that. This was something she had never seen before. A new specimen, maybe something no one had ever seen before. She knew what that meant; it meant she had work to do.