Chapter Text
Hazel
The sun rose on a crisp morning in a quiet town of southern Anthen. Its line of light crept up the cream brick homes, illuminating their colourful roofs.
From afar, the mosaic of red, purple and green tiles resembled the blooming flower gardens that could be found in every backyard. Fresh flowers placed the night before adorned shopfronts and windowsills, their colours waiting to be unveiled by the sun. Even with no one awake to witness it yet, the town of Bloomdale was a beautiful sight to behold.
Famously known first as a tourist destination and second for bountiful exports of flora and herbs, the town boasted beautiful scenery and a wide variety of Grass and the occasional Fairy-type Pokémon. Aside from the deeper forests that were rarely ventured into, it was a calm place where one could always feel safe.
The dirt road leading west out of town travelled past an expansive property mostly hidden by an orchard of apple trees. Glimpses of a stone brick farmhouse could be seen at the end of a long driveway, and the painted sign by the entryway read, 'Rosewood Farms.'
This farmhouse was known by the townsfolk as “the Greenhouse." An old but well-cared for building. The eggshell-white trim on the windows looked relatively fresh, about as new as the red asphalt roof. A wooden sign hung over their front door, hinges creaking as it swung in the breeze.
Despite being hidden away, this property was home to the largest flower and herb farm in the area. From the sky, the red roof of the farmhouse was a dot compared to their vast gardens. Colourful patches that filled what space was available in the ten-acre property, although they had chosen to leave the four acres of forest untouched for wild Pokémon to prosper in. Two greenhouses lay off to the side alongside an old, wooden barn sheltering sleeping Pokémon.
Such a lovely property was privy to the family living there as their windows looked out on these fields for them to admire. On that morning, one of those individuals was doing just that.
Sheer, cream curtains fluttered from an open second story window of the old home. A pair of pale legs hung out, belonging to the young lady sitting on the window seat.
The girl rotated her slender ankles, lightly bumping the back of her heels against the side of the house. She played with the page corner of the pokézine in her hands. The article she was reading featured the winner of a recent Cooking Showcase held in Battenshire.
Hazel Rosewood looked up from her reading just as the sun reached the far line of trees.
A thin fog had descended on the farm, partially obscuring the forest that defined the border of their gardens. She'd been awake for hours thanks to her regular bout of insomnia. The only positive to it was being able to watch the sun rise.
“Mom is probably getting up soon,” she mumbled, allowing a moment more before closing her pokézine. She turned around to slip off the window seat, her disheveled, white blond curls falling to hide her face as she returned inside.
Comforters buried her bed, some bunched into makeshift pillows despite the overabundance of pillows already there. The soft pink of the walls reflected onto the beige carpet, creating a rosy glow that filled the room. Rows of pokézines lined the bookshelves along with creased, well-used foraging guides.
The window clicked when she pushed it closed. She thought she spied a Floette peek up from an indigo flower patch down below, but it disappeared before she could be sure.
She caught her own eye as she passed the vanity mirror. A twinge in her stomach made her stop and take a better look.
She sighed as she leaned closer to her reflection. Her ruffled bangs couldn’t decide which way to lay, and the curly strands framing her round, expressive face could only be handled by tucking them behind her ears. She scrunched her mouth to one side, and her chin crinkled.
Looking in the mirror never made her feel better about herself. Not that it made her feel particularly bad but it didn’t lift her spirits any. It bothered her that her lashes and eyebrows were a darker blond than her hair, and she wished her freckles were a little more visible.
Most of all, she wished her downturned, cyan-blue eyes didn’t look quite so sad all the time. She gently touched the grey circles beneath them. Maybe getting enough sleep would help.
She picked up a pair of unwashed jeans from the top of her laundry pile and gave them a sniff. Farmwork was too dirty to wear clean clothes for. She changed into them and pulled a random t-shirt over the tank top she’d slept in.
Slipping out the door, she tiptoed down the stairs.
"Odd-ISH!" a tiny shriek came from below her knees followed by furious pitter-pattering on the steps.
"Oh, Oddish, I'm sorry!" she gasped, grabbing the railing and coming to a halt on the balls of her feet.
Oddish stamped his feet and glared up at her. The sight of her bare feet descending upon his head had warranted that offended shriek. He hopped in place angrily, the blades of grass sprouting from his head sticking straight up.
"I'm sorry, I am." She crouched and reached out a finger.
His glare didn't ease but he did let her gently stroke his leaves.
He's still mad, huh? Guess I really scared him. She dug around in her jeans pocket to see if she had any leftover treats. “Ah!” She pulled out a broken treat and offered it as an apology.
Oddish snatched it away from her, trilling excitedly. "Ish, ish!" he chirped, happy once again. His leaves swooshed back and forth as he hopped up the steps one at a time.
She smiled after him and carried on her way down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she turned her attention to the open kitchen doorway.
Mom would have said something if she was there, she thought, walking with soft steps into the kitchen. It wouldn’t hurt to sneak a drink before heading out.
She took one step into the blue and white decorated room before catching sight of her mom stirring honey into a mug. She spun on her heel, keen to escape, but she was too slow.
"Good morning!" her mom said, the spoon clinking while she stirred.
“Good morning,” Hazel replied, hiding her grimace and taking a hesitant seat at the table.
Her mom turned around—face lit up with a bright smile—and placed the mug she'd been stirring at Hazel's place on the table. Steam that smelled of honey and roses wafted from the piping hot tea inside.
"Happy birthday, my darling!” she sang, leaning down to kiss her daughter’s hair before moving away. “Take a minute to enjoy your tea. Chores can wait.” She swept through the kitchen like a dancing Bellossom as she prepared breakfast.
Tendrils of steam curled around Hazel's face as she blew on the hot drink. The tiny sip she took tasted exactly as it smelled—like sweetened roses. She watched her mother work, wondering how she always managed to look beautiful even when wearing her ratty, old housecoat.
Charlotte Rosewood was famous in town for her jubilant air and pretty looks—long, caramel blonde hair always in a braid, bright grey eyes, and perpetually rosy skin patterned with freckles. Rumours declaring her a secret fairy had floated around since she was just a girl.
“Today’s the day!” Charlotte declared suddenly, spinning in a circle and dancing towards the stove. “Our little flower is going to catch her first Pokémon!”
Hazel groaned internally. She’d expected that her mom would be excited but not to this extent.
“Good morning, and happy birthday to the birthday girl,” a deep, sleepy voice said from the hall.
She turned in her chair to see her dad shuffle into the kitchen, already wearing his mud-caked bucket boots. Based on his bleary eyes and messy hair, he was still half asleep.
Compared to Charlotte's local fame, Jacob Rosewood was considered ordinary at best—maybe even boring. His quiet presence was barely noticeable next to his wife's bright demeanor, although his broad figure made for a good backdrop to her flighty dancing.
Hazel resembled him most, sharing both his hair and eye colour, but that was where the similarities ended. Neither of her parents had drooping, sad eyes nor were they considered short; Jacob stood at six feet tall and Charlotte at five seven, and yet Hazel hadn't broken five foot three. She wondered if it was the consequence of her being a picky eater when she was little.
He stooped down, a hand on Hazel's shoulder, and planted a kiss atop her head. “I think Mom’s more excited about today than you are," he said with a chuckle.
“I just don’t want to get my hopes up,” she replied, chuckling halfheartedly and looking down at her lap. “Last year we didn’t catch anything.” Her brows drew together as she recalled the six long hours they spent exploring the woods near the town. Without any success.
“This year will be different! I can feel it in my bones,” Charlotte said, nodding to herself knowingly. She twirled towards her husband, rose onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and handed him a mug of tea on his way out the door.
Guilt squirmed in Hazel’s stomach, and she twined her fingers together. "What if I don't catch one today?"
"Not to worry!" Charlotte dashed out of the kitchen. She clunked around in the other room before returning with something in hand. And an even brighter smile than before. “Your birthday gift this year, darling. It took a bit longer to get, but we had it custom made for you.”
A black Poké ball sat in her palm—all shiny black save for its red and gold stripes. And a matching gold button.
Hazel’s mouth dropped open as her mom dropped the ball into her hand. A Luxury ball. She knew exactly how much those cost. “Mom! This is way too much!” she protested, looking up with a frown.
"Don’t be silly," Charlotte said, waving her off as she went back to making breakfast. "It's your eighteenth birthday, and we wanted to do something special. It has a higher catch rate and was designed to be extra comfortable. Any Pokémon that goes in here will definitely never want to leave!"
"Mom..."
"Most people get their first Pokémon when they’re ten! You’re always reading those pokézines, and you get along great with all the Pokémon on the farm. If anyone deserves it, it’s you, honey."
The exquisitely made ball fit perfectly in the palm of Hazel's hand. Heavier than she expected it to be. Her distorted reflection stared back at her in its glossy surface.
She opened her mouth to protest once more but closed it with a sigh instead.
Pushing her chair away from the table, she got to her feet and hugged her mom from behind. Pressing her cheek against her soft braid.
“Thanks, Mom,” she said, trying to ignore how tight her throat felt. She pulled away and headed outside to start her chores—placing the Luxury ball on the table as she passed by.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart!”
The black ball rolled from side to side before coming to a stop.
Hazel breathed in the fresh air, feeling refreshed by the sweet, floral fragrance lacing it. A twig hidden in the grass crunched under her boot as she walked towards the old barn.
The barn was where most of their Pokémon lived and slept. Feeding and caring for them was her main job, although there was no end to the watering and weeding that needed doing.
She pushed open the door to a shed tucked right up against the barn. The screen door creaked under her hand as it swung, revealing a workbench covered with empty metal bowls. The smell of kibble reached her even before she pulled out the bags of Pokéfood stored under the bench.
She scooped portions of dark brown kibble into each bowl. Kibble dust filled the air as she did, intensifying the smell of it. She shook her head to move a long curl out of her face, but it fell to hang over her eyes a second later.
"Just..." She swatted the hair away—and it fell right back.
Sighing, she placed the scoop down and gathered her long hair together behind her head. Tying it into a bun with a soft scrunchy that lived on her wrist.
Despite it being the same colour as her dad’s hair, she inherited the thickness of it from her mom. It usually fell down her back in unruly curls even after being brushed. Charlotte used to play with it often when she was little, joking that her daughter’s hair was woven from sunshine.
Her fond smile faded. No matter how much she loved her mom and dad, she couldn’t bring herself to tell them what was bothering her.
Ever since she was young, all of her peers had their own Pokémon. At first, it hadn’t been weird that she didn’t have her own. She got along so well with any Pokémon she met that everyone forgot about it. It wasn’t the same when she got older though.
Year after year, she noticed that the strange looks she received slowly increased. No one ever was ever unkind or mean to her, but she could feel that it somehow pushed the other kids away. She took to naming the plants sitting in the school windows and chatting with them as though they were her Pokémon. This didn't help in stopping the weird looks.
Whereas some places had lots of breeders in the area, it was tradition in the smaller towns to catch your first Pokémon. Her parents made it no secret that they were excited for her to follow the same tradition they had.
Every year on her birthday, her mother would wrap a Poké ball and stick a pretty bow on top, and every year she would fake surprise when she unwrapped it. Then they'd have their family outing in the fields and the forests surrounding town. When she was little, she enjoyed spending time with them and seeing lots of wild Pokémon.
After a few years of fruitless searching, these outings became tiresome. Everytime they came across a wild Pokémon, she would trip or make noise to scare it away. If it didn't run, she would throw the Poké ball weakly and miss. And her parents were unaware that all of it had been on purpose.
There had been one time that she couldn’t forget. It was one of their first outings, and she thought about it every year.
As a kid, she couldn't see over the tall grass they waded through. Jacob had led the way, and Charlotte had brought up the rear. They had moved quietly, pausing when they heard the grass ruffle. It wasn't long until they'd come across the first Pokémon – a Chespin sitting with his back against a tree. He ate from a pile of berries with gusto, unaware of their presence. Her mom had nudged her gently with a nod.
Hazel had pulled out a Poké ball, certain this would be the time she wouldn't go home empty handed.
She'd raised the ball over her head, ready to throw, when another Pokémon emerged from the woods. It was a Paras, an orange crab Pokémon with mushrooms growing out of its back. It approached the Chespin, and they greeted each other happily. Chespin patted the ground beside him, offering Paras a spot.
It had struck her that the wild Chespin had friends, a family and a home. She'd looked up at her father's bearded face, smiling down at her, and imagined how it would feel if someone took her away from her family.
That seemingly simple moment shocked her to her core. It seared into her mind in an instant, digging into her still soft subconscious mind. Trembling with horror, she’d thrown the ball at the ground near the wild Pokémon. It startled both of them, spurring them to run away. Ever since that day, she would feel a chill picking up a Poké ball and be reminded of it.
She leaned against the workbench with a sigh. It wasn't as though she disapproved of people catching Pokémon in general. She’d met so many happy Pokémon with trainers and partners that she knew were content and living good lives. All of her parents' Pokémon were prime examples.
She'd thought about it over and over, even telling herself that she could just release the Pokémon if it didn't want to stay with her, but nothing worked. Nothing could be done about the pit in her stomach.
Moaning, she rubbed a hand over her face and said, "What is wrong with me?"
Her thoughts had preoccupied her from noticing a young woman accompanied by an Ivysaur approaching the shed. The pair pushed the door open without a creak, poking their heads inside the shed to stare at her. Right as she moaned aloud.
"Well, you're easy to sneak up on, for one," the girl said with a laugh.
Hazel jumped, her legs almost giving way before she caught herself on the bench. Laughing nervously, she turned around. As she did, her eyes widened.
"Sienna! Oh my gosh, you have green hair!"
"Yep! I got it done at a salon," her friend said, running a hand through her straightened, deep green hair. Her new cut had given her long layers that flattered her heart-shaped face and straight bangs that fell just above her almond-shaped, brown eyes. "They massage special dye into your scalp, so it'll grow green for a while. They even did some for Ivy!" She gestured to the Pokémon standing at her feet.
Ivy the Ivysaur – aptly named, although Sienna had chosen the nickname well before Ivy evolved from a Bulbasaur. The squat, short Pokémon had blue-green skin and a stunning flower bulb surrounded with leaves growing on her back. Ivy’s normally rosy pink bulb had been dyed an unusual violet colour.
“Wow, it’s so pretty!” Hazel said, kneeling to inspect the Seed Pokémon's dye job. She held out a hand, and Ivy nuzzled her fingers affectionately. She was bigger than the last time she'd seen her. "You both look great!"
"Thank you!” Sienna sang. “Oh, happy birthday by the way!" She pulled Hazel into a quick hug after she stood up. “I'm honestly so busy, I can hardly keep my head on straight. Sorry I didn't get you anything! I’ll get you something later, I promise."
"Don’t worry about it, it's fine," she replied, pulling away with a smile. Sienna Brookes had been her friend for as long as she could remember – since grade school, specifically. They’d connected over their love of pokézines which carried news and gossip from cities all over the country.
Whereas she had always been quiet and shy, Sienna was the opposite. She'd been battling her friends since the first day she caught Ivy. People flocked to her side, drawn in by her charming smile and outgoing, bubbly personality. A perfect combination for a professional Pokémon trainer.
Hazel hadn’t been at all surprised when she left home at the beginning of the year to debut in the public battling scene. The only reason she hadn’t left sooner was because her mom wanted her to wait until she turned eighteen. Unusual, yes, but not unheard of.
"So wanna hang out with me today?" Sienna asked. Hazel crouched back down to pet Ivy’s forehead. Ivy hummed happily, plopping her butt down.
"Don't think I don't know why you're here," she said, looking up at her pointedly. She recognised the lemon-yellow dress and cropped jean jacket combo Sienna had on. She was pretty sure she'd seen a similar outfit in the most recent issue of Fashion Pokézine.
"Wha-at? I have no idea what you're talking about!" Sienna blinked a few times and held up her hands innocently. "I just stopped by to hang out. It's been months since I've seen you."
"No-o," she said, shaking her head. "You never come back home without a reason. You’re taking me out to go catch a Pokémon today, aren’t you? What did Mom promise you? Berry cobbler?”
"Ugh, how do you catch on so fast!" She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Yes, okay, your mom called me and asked if I would go with you today. I think it's a great idea! And yeah, I love berry cobbler so maybe she promised me some. Anyways, I still don't understand why you don't have your own Pokémon yet."
When Hazel didn't offer any sign of answering, she continued, "But that’s not all! Your mom and I were talking, and we thought that to celebrate you getting your first Pokémon, you should come stay with me in the city!" She grinned expectantly, her eyebrows raised high. Hazel’s eyes widened.
"What?!" She stammered for a moment, trying to find something to say. The thought of suddenly leaving the farm was so foreign to her that she struggled to absorb it. “I can’t just...leave!”
"But you can!" Sienna threw her hands into the air. "It'll be like before I left! I have an apartment, and it's totally awesome. You can stay with me as long as you want, and we can hang out all the time!"
"I don’t know..." she replied hesitantly. Her friend's eyes sparkled.
"Trust me," she said. "Just come with me today! I promise it'll make you change your mi-ind!" Hazel recognised that dangerous shine in her eyes. She wouldn't give up until she conceded.
"Okay. I'll think about it. But can you help me put all this food out first though?" She balanced a bowl filled with kibble on one arm and picked up another two.
"Yay!" Sienna spun in a circle and started dancing around Ivy. The Grass Pokémon reached out one of her vines, and her trainer twirled under it. "You're going to love it! You'll be dying to come to the city by the end of the day!"
Hazel's heart leapt at the thought. She had never expressed it out loud, but she had long had dreams of trying all the things she read about in pokézines. Exploring new places, eating new foods, seeing all kinds of different Pokémon... As scary as travelling sounded, that hidden part of her desperately wanted to.
"I'll go say hi to your parents," Sienna called over her shoulder as she darted out of the shed. Ivy waddled after her, keeping surprisingly good pace despite her stubby legs. "And maybe taste test that cobbler!"
Hazel sighed, catching the door before it closed and leaning out to watch them head towards the house. Sienna's hearing often turned off like that, especially when someone asked for help with chores.
There was something unfamiliar about Sienna's familiar silhouette. She had changed so much in the time she'd been gone. It wasn’t just the colour of her hair but more the way she carried herself. As though her already high confidence had soared even higher. She looked like a real Pokémon trainer.
Hazel's shoulders drooped as she turned away, letting the door swing shut against her shoulder. She wanted her own Pokémon but some part of her was holding her back.
"Pokémon aren't things," she mumbled to herself. "How can I just take them away from everything they know?"