Chapter Text
By this point, Emmet had been on the road for nearly a month. Determination could only push him so far, and the knowledge that he was close to his goal, while reassuring, wasn't enough to fuel his engines across the entire Hoenn region. Between the sheer distance of walking, the variety of environments, the extreme weather, and the fact that the majority of settlements were along the coast, he was practically running on empty.
His Pokémon, while mostly eager enough to help, couldn't do much but drive away any wild Pokémon that attempted to approach. His newly-evolved Mantine in particular seemed adamant that it carry him as far as it could, but given the varying climate and the fact that it can't learn Fly, they never got very far.
(He tried to reassure it that he appreciated the effort nonetheless.)
His only relief by this point was the fact that he was nearing Lilycove, a port town where he could hopefully ( hopefully ) find passage on a ship to the mainland so he could continue his journey north.
The sun was still fairly high, and he knew he could likely go farther if he pushed himself, but...
Well. Emmet was tired. And it wouldn’t do any good to burn himself out while his end terminal was almost in sight.
So he had broken off from the barely-there trail, heading deeper into the forest to find a clearing he could set up a temporary campsite in.
Which was how he got to where he was currently.
Knelt in the dirt in the shade of a large tree.
Frozen halfway into opening his bag.
Because there was something there.
…
Well. At least his other Pokémon didn't seem too concerned, if the way Aggron and Volcarona were casually failing to start a campfire was any indication.
He squinted down at the Pokémon that had snuck into the luggage car, and it blinked sluggishly back up at him with wide eyes, equally frozen.
Now that he could get a closer look at it, though, he was... Confused.
It was almost familiar, with three leafy fronds sprouting from the top of its bulb-like head, but he had a feeling it wasn't nearly as green as it should have.
As he wracked his brain trying to recall the name of this species, it chirped up at him with a quiet "lil?"
Finally reaching in, no longer wary of putting his hand in potential biting range, he gently scooped it up, holding it close to his face so he could take a closer look at its off-white petals.
"You are a verrry strange grass-type," he muttered, smiling at the way it cocked its head at his words. "You are also verrry small."
It was true - he could vaguely recall seeing others like it while he was in Unova, and while those had been small, this one was positively tiny . As he thought on it, though, he distantly recalled something he must have heard once.
There were rare occurrences where Pokémon were different colors from their peers, but there was an even rarer condition where they simply had no colors at all. Part of why it was so rare, he remembered, was because they never survived very long. Grass-types in particular were quick to wither away without the pigment necessary to photosynthesize. When they hatched, these variants were often separated or "pruned" from the rest of their clutch, abandoned by their mother, as the only way they could survive before they were old enough to gather their own food was by draining energy from other Pokémon. They were at risk of accidentally killing their hatchmates, and otherwise required constant care to have even a slight chance of survival, so they were often left in the wild to let nature take its course.
In addition to not being able to photosynthesize, the lack of pigmentation also failed to protect them from the harsh sun, giving them an extra weakness to fire-types alongside a light sensitivity. They couldn't stay out in the sun for very long, and even if a person attempted to help them, they would often wilt from being isolated indoors away from other grass-types.
The inability to make its own energy was likely why it was so small, he assumed.
As he contemplated the tiny plant before him, he started to notice how lethargic it seemed, leaning its whole body into the warmth of his hands. And when its eyes started drifting closed, he was struck with a bolt of panic.
Oh Dragons, oh fuck, oh no-
Frantically looking around, he waved over Mantine from where it was attempting to put out the small fire that Volcarona had started.
“Mantine? Help? Help, please? Can you -” he gestured vaguely to the Pokémon huddle against his chest. “What do you even do with grass-types? Water them? It is in no shape to eat berries, but I do not want to accidentally hurt it, but -”
Mantine cut him off with a quiet rumbling, poking its head at the small creature until Emmet loosened his hold enough for it to scoop up its still form and carry it a short distance away.
He followed nervously, resisting the urge to bite his nails as Mantine closed its eyes to focus.
Slowly, it began to glow faintly, and the moisture from the air around it was pulled in as it used Aqua Ring, water droplets shimmering around its form. With a quiet whistle, it opened an eye to glance up at the Pokémon resting atop it. As the ring of water swirled around them, the grass-type absorbed the drops that settled on its leaves, gradually beginning to stir.
A few moments longer, and its eyes had reopened, and it was strong enough to lift itself off the surface of the Pokémon below it.
Mantine made a happy sound as the Aqua Ring activated again, further hydrating the small grass-type as it let out a loud trill.
“Yes!” Emmet exclaimed. “Excellent work, Mantine! Verrry smart use of a healing move, thank you!” He trotted over, pulling out a berry from one of his pockets to offer it.
It gratefully took the berry, lightly bunting its head against his hand in search of pats, which he happily obliged. The smaller Pokémon chirped up at him, waving its nubby little arms in askance.
He laughed, picking it up. “Yes, hello, I am glad you feel better! Even if you are dodging fare, you are verrry cute.” It nuzzled further into his hand.
The rest of his team had started wandering over to investigate, Phantump poking questioningly at its fellow grass-type. Emmet hummed in thought.
“I do not remember what you are called. But! You look like an onion. So that is what I will call you.”
Onion let out a happy trill, and Emmet attempted to mimic it back.
He settled back next to where he had left his bag, leaned up against a tree, placing Onion on the ground beside him.
“I do not think there are any Pokémon like you in this region, so you must have come aboard before we left Unova.” He shuffled around in his bag, pulling out a few small berries. “That means you have come a verrry long way. I am sorry it took me so long to notice you! But you are very sneaky, and I have been very distracted.” He spread the berries on the ground in front of Onion, allowing it to take its pick. “Since you are here now, I do not think we will be able to conduct you back home, but if you want, you are more than welcome to join us on our journey!”
It picked up a pecha berry, chirping up at him questioningly, and he smiled. “I am looking for someone! He is my twin. I do not remember much, but I know that I need to find him. So that is what I am doing.”
Leaning back against the tree and pushing Exploud’s snout away from where it was attempting to steal the rest of the berries, he sighed, mentally mapping out the region and trying to triangulate where exactly he was. Not for the first time he wished that he had gotten an actual map of the region while he was still in town, but it was too late now and he had already decided that he wouldn’t regret it.
Another glance at the sky revealed a few hours remained until sunset, when he would need to build a proper campfire to stave off the autumn chill, but for now, he pulled out his journal and began to write.