Chapter Text
They love fighting more than anything else, First and Second think to themselves as they look at their now ex-trainer. (Third gazes into the distance and locates a berry bush to take from.)
Sarah is a caring and affectionate owner. She keeps the team pristine, plays with them often and peppers them all with kisses. They were certain that if they just reached into her backpack and pulled an empty Poké Ball they would be kept safe forever… It makes it impossible for them to stay.
The desert's night wind makes her shiver, and they can’t offer her warmth, nor would it be their place to do so. Not anymore. Sidon, the Samurott, cuddles up to her, sad eyes gazing onto theirs.
“I suppose this is it…” She manages to get in between the tears.
First remembers the first time they met. Back when there was one, not three, and it was so amazed that an Oshawott, a Water type, could bring them so close to defeat, that it practically jumped at the Poké Ball she offered. When Second peeks into that memory, it can't help but note how stressed she seemed. (Third notes a big tree in the distance, with sturdy branches they can hang onto for the night.)
Closer to them, Sidon gazes in worry. He knew they would leave, perhaps before they had made the decision. But bows and poffins never appealed to them as much as he wanted them to. Second fondly remembers the time when, the day after evolving, he clumsily skewered a pink treat to bring to them. While they do understand the meaning behind it all, they never were big on eating.
“Sparks…”
Second carefully removes the last bow they have left in their bodies. The last one left and the first one given. Their name is engraved in the fabric, and so they must shed, no matter how much joy the name had brought them. Because Sparks is a pretty creature, measured by their shine. Yet what truly brings sparks to their metallic hearts is the fight. The thrill of competing, of trading blows. Its what unites the three. Its what they long for. Its what they havent had in seasons. And so the bow is returned, and its immediately splashed with her tears.
And so, theres no more Sparks. No more hours in front of mirrors, no rehearsing against no opponent, no more itchy ribbons. And no more Sarah polishing them, no more pets on their left and upper magnets, no more cozy nights with the team.
As soon as they start turning, ready to begin a life they can be happy with, they are stopped by warmth. Soft flesh. A hug. Third finally looks to her, no longer able to plan for tomorrow. They melt into the last hug the girl who raised them would ever give.
As quick as it began, it ends. Sarah falls to the floor, and Sidon leans into her, to let her hold him as she cries into his neck. He looks at them and blinks slowly.
They turn around, towards the cold. They drag themselves forward. Its a bit of a road, but they know there's a city not far away from here. Cities contain a lot of humans, which means they could find a trainer there. A good trainer who fights with them and a team that shares that passion.
And that they can love too, First hopes and Second wishes. Third drags them towards the bush.
—
Where could the people that battle be?
The morning sees thousands of humans going in and out of buildings and cars zooming in and out of the streets. The noise is comforting: a reminder that life goes on. But if they want it to go the right way, they have to find a good trainer. And the first step for that is to find where the trainers go.
They do their best to keep their floating straight and confident, not wanting to risk them being recognized as a wild pokemon and taken out of the city (a more conventional spot to meet a trainer, but First thinks they can do better). The people walking there just look and walk like non-trainers, so they keep going, hoping to see someone that sticks out.
Like the man running with a hand already on a Poké Ball. Fortunate! They follow with their eyes until they spot a crowd, all focused on the two almost identical men on the entrance.
“... ALL ABOARD!” They finish the speech they didn’t get to hear in unison, and open the doors. They seem like really strong trainers, even stronger than the ones already pouring inside.
Despite First’s insistence on approaching those guys, they decide to go with Second’s plan to find a trainer in the ones in the crowd. It would be better if they could find a trainer they could grow with, not one that is already at the top. They head in with the crowd and go down the stairs, relieved no one noticed that they have no trainer. Everyone just assumes they are already an owned Pokémon!
Fuck.
—
After a few minutes of exploring, trying to goad trainers into a battle unsuccessfully (all battles seem to happen inside the metal boxes, and they won't push their luck) and getting distracted by the item stores, they decide to go through the side of the box tunnel. Third has the idea that since this is the strong trainer zone, the cave here must be the strong wild Pokemón zone. And really, that's the only idea they have left, other than just leaving for the forest and letting themselves be caught by a random trainer (ew), and risk three more years of contests (eww).
A minute of hovering around and they stop dead in the tracks, as the man in the white coat from earlier exits a door and walks away from them, not noticing them. “Thank you, Ingo. Be careful.”
They peek inside. This is not a room full of powerful opponents, as the encouraging words of the man in white made them think. It’s just a fridge, a couch, a few tables and a power box, manipulated by the man in the black coat, who must be Ingo. He flips a switch, turns around, grabs a pen from the paper and then does a double take towards them.
“Excuse me, this area is off limits! Allow me to escort you to your trainer.” That is bad. They allow Ingo to escort them out of the door, and once they're out, they turn around. Spinning their magnets and flashing a few sparks, they finally show their intent.
“Forgive me for damping your expectations, but the battling does not happen inside the train tunnels! It would be quite irresponsible.” He says, making no move towards his Poké Balls. “Now, how does a runaway Pokémon find itself in-”
Inside the room, an odd snap comes, distracting them both. Far away, they can hear something rumbling.
“Please follow me into the electrical substation! I need to do some maintenance tasks before I can figure out where to take you.”
Back in the room, they stay put. Much as they want to challenge him again, or run away towards someone who wants to catch them, they did learn enough about timing through contests to-
The odd snap comes back again, distracting Ingo from the manual he was skimming. “It’s rather unfortunate that the electrician called in sick today. I can’t quite place what could be making that noise…” He puts on gloves and lays a few Poké Balls on the table, as well as taking his Xtransciever off. Second looks at the balls in curiosity, then back at Ingo, who notices. “A heavy electrical current could make the Poké Balls malfunction or break, so it's preferable to leave them at the table for the duration of this task. I don’t have a ball for you, unfortunately, but I would rather not have you wandering around.”
He turns towards the metal box in the wall, and cracks it open delicately. Curious about what could that noise be, they take a peek.
There is nothing inside the box. Nothing moving, or staying quiet, or misplaced. No switches, no cables. No metal, no texture, no color.
There is nothing outside the box, either.