June and July flew by like wishing stars. Luvia had never felt stronger.
She awoke every morning as she had for the past month and a half since getting Mida – with a constant buzz in her body that made her want to jump out of bed.
She hardly kept Mida in the pokéball now unless the little one was extra tired.
They had worked hard. The girl could feel it in the muscles of her legs and arms. She could feel it in her shoulders and back. She felt it in her core.
Supple as a sapling, as Nana would say.
What would leave her keel-over exhausted a month ago was now just a good sweat. Her lungs must have doubled in size.
The attack she called Dirt Spray, she eventually found out (through Andrea), was officially called Mud Slap, and Mida could now consistently summon the move close to nine times before needing a breather. It was magnificent progress in Luvia’s eyes.
Diligent reading of the trainer exam notes had given her so many new insights about not just pokémon, but humans as well. Insights she wouldn’t have chanced upon if it hadn’t been for the eye-opening trip to Slateport City.
There was one irrefutable fact she had come to understand; Being a pokémon trainer made demands of you. That feeling she had in her body, that excited buzz that made her ready to pounce? That didn’t just come from her. It came from Mida too.
A bond. The word had sounded so abstract and airy before. It was something that couldn’t be seen or measured. You could not choose to bond with something. It happened all on its own.
In the quiet, contemplative moments, watching the sparkling sea or the twinkling night sky through her bedroom window, Luvia started to understand that a bond was indeed a very physical thing. Yes, it couldn’t be seen with the naked eye, but it was exactly what the most basic meaning of the word implied.
A bond was a chain. A chain binding two things together. A living chain that sent thoughts and feelings back and forth like a cable. It couldn’t be felt with your fingers, but it felt there… Real and tangible.
Why did Mida understand her despite being complete aliens to one another? A bond.
Why did Luvia get up every morning with that childlike buzz in her body? The bond.
She had never gone this deep with Ziggy – or maybe she had but had never been aware. The chain that linked her to Ziggy had inexplicably snapped back then, which was why the zigzagoon had become unreadable and why Luvia had felt no urge to fix it once Mida had come into her life. There was nothing that needed fixing. You couldn’t fix a bond. Everyone just had a slot in their hearts that was meant for someone else to fit into, and walking around with an empty one was like dying every day.
Luvia felt the new strength in her muscles and new room in her lungs had come through her bond with Mida.
Either that, or it had been the constant running and swimming around like a madwoman for a month and a half…
“Faster, Mida! Faster!”
Luvia took the quickest glance over her shoulder, gripping the handles on her tiny inflatable raft as Mida towed it with enough power to leave a curtain of water in their wake.
The little one’s tail was frothing the seawater, beating in a blur from side to side and occasionally slapping the taut ropes tied to her harness.
“Ayee! Ayee!” cried the boy right behind them. “Blow! Blow!”
He had a wingull blowing gusts on the small square sail of his “speed ship.”
The thing looked more like an old wheel with a stick for a mast and a bedsheet for a sail, but Luvia had to admit – it was much faster than it looked. Not that her raft was much better.
It was a pink, 5ft long 3ft wide cheap inflatable she had shared with Neela when they were kids. Hadn’t been used in years, and it had seen more action in the last week than it had in its entire life.
She took another peek over her shoulder before ducking low into the raft. At these speeds, not bracing before a swell meant you got flung off your seat and into the sea.
Mida cut right through it, submerging completely as the nose of the raft smacked against the peak of the swell. Luvia’s white-knuckled grip held fast as the cheap raft bounced a few feet up in the air and rushed back down and onwards, speeding straight to the shore.
Nice!
She took another look-back then, and her eyes popped and her mouth gaped open.
Ten yards up! The boy in his old wheel ship were flying! The wingull fluttering and darting in quick loops in the space behind the sail as if it was invisibly leashed to that ridiculous-looking mast.
Luvia kept her eyes on them as gravity inevitably won out and dragged them crashing down against the sea. The bottom of the boy’s makeshift sail ship bombed against the water and Luvia turned her face away just in time to avoid a good buffeting from the splash.
They were right beside her now!
“Go, Mida! Go!”
The boy let out a sharp and continuous whistle through his teeth, spurring his wingull on, and it squawked and flurried faster in response.
Mida’s tail stopped vibrating for a moment then resumed even more violently than before, tugging the raft forward and accelerating to a speed that made Luvia’s eyes water. The belly of the raft began gliding and slapping rhythmically against the surface of the sea, too fast now to stay down.
Hah!
“You can’t win!” Luvia yelled sideways at them, grinning.
The boy didn’t respond. He was too focused on holding onto the stick-thin mast of his craft.
His wingull kept making dizzying loops back and forth to blow the wind against the sail all while the shoreline rushed in at them with its cheering group of onlookers.
There was a lone swimmer waist-deep in the water, holding his arms wide and acting as the finish line.
Luvia made a peace sign right as Mida and the raft whizzed past him, feeling a flood of satisfaction and relief.
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She was here to make money, not lose it.
Mida soon slowed down and her little paws finally found footing in the shallow water. The little one kept dragging the raft all the way onto dry sand as the small group of people laughed and clapped at the unexpected turnout of events.
Luvia stepped off, unable to stop grinning as she went to Mida and unlatched the harness around her midsection. The little one’s heart was thumping quickly in there.
“You’re the best, Mida.” Luvia pulled her up and pecked her drenched, salty head, letting the little one sit comfortably nestled in her arms.
The boy hopped off his shoddy boat and ruffled the water from his hair. He was a slightly older kid called Kevin that was apparently the fastest racer this side of the island, mainly because he was one of the few youngsters with a tamed and pokéballed wingull.
…
Here came the awkward part of demanding payment. Luvia was getting better at it, but it still felt slightly iffy. She had to keep reminding herself that she had barely saved up a third of the ticket fare to take her back to the mainland for the exam. It was August 7th now, and the December deadline was steadily looming closer.
She smiled wide as she hoisted Mida on her hip and stuck out her open palm toward racerboy Kevin. The small group people – most of them Kevin’s beach buddies – let no opportunity to rub salt in his wound.
“Give me a second, damn…” Kevin said amidst laughter from the group, and Luvia pulled her greedy little hand away bashfully. Maybe she was being too eager… But she was eager!
“If you want to race again sometime, we can,” she offered.
He leaned down to his towel-wrapped beach bag, rummaged through, and pulled out an old Velcro wallet.
“Beaten by a girl!” one guy whooped for the second time.
Kevin shot him a look. “Beaten by a pokémon, you dummy.”
“The pokémon is a girl,” Luvia said helpfully. “Just saying.”
Kevin shot her a look as his beach buddies continued to clown around.
“I’ll make some modifications to my ship,” Kevin said, pacing over and handing over the prize.
Luvia glanced at the “ship” and fought the urge to snort.
“Next time, we’re betting double the money.”
Luvia didn’t make eye contact as she took the money. She didn’t even say thanks – Sometimes, after a defeat, hearing the courtesies was way more annoying than if the winner just kept quiet. She had a hunch a thank you in that moment would just sound patronizing.
She nodded and gave him a determined look. “If I have the cash, sure.”
She had earned a respectable ?200 from the race, but she wasn’t about to put ?400 on the line. She needed to save every cent she could. The only reason she had agreed to this bet was mainly for three reasons:
She had been practicing alone for a week after learning about the challenge.
Two weeks had gone by without a single new dollar to her name.
And because she was confident Mida could outpace most pokémon in such a scenario. Not because the mudkip was the fastest water-type on the island (she wasn’t,) but because the pokémon needed to be able to pull or impel their human racer onward, and Mida was definitely suited for both things.
Brutish strength coupled with speed in the water. It checked out perfectly.
She deflated her raft, rolled it up, and bid the beach rats goodbye. It was time to check the tiny job board in town again.
The main town space of Clearcloud Island didn’t begin to measure up to Slateport, but it was lively enough. Buildings didn’t rise very high, nor where there any traffic lights to keep vehicles in order, but there were shops for every necessity – though just not if you were a trainer. What Luvia liked most about the town was the number of shade trees that grew there. Their canopies had an emerald hue to them during midday that was always nice to look at. Circular benches were built around almost every single one.
The job board she was looking for was in the town square, next to the tall statue of one of the island’s mayors. She had been checking on it every couple of days or so and had already done two jobs in the past month. They had both been pest control tasks in different neighborhoods of the island. One had paid ?250, and the other ?150. The modest payment was because short of catching them with pokéballs, it couldn’t be guaranteed they wouldn’t return. Both cases had been wild zigzagoon which was ironic, since the tame version of the species was generally used to keep pests out.
It had been easy work for Mida and Luvia and last time she checked, the zigzagoon hadn’t gone back (which didn’t do her purse any favors, actually.)
No way… Luvia sped up toward the window-sized board when she saw what surely had to be a new flyer.
“Meehd!” Mida squeaked bounding after her.
“Yes way!” The girl put a hand on the board and leaned in close, dismissing that now-familiar feeling of sticking out like a sore thumb. People stared at her when Mida was out of her ball, but she saw the getting used to the attention as part of training. It was way better than having to constantly keep worrying about whether she should cut across this or that street to avoid eyes, or having to recall Mida before she took a turn into the more populated areas. Keeping Mida out and dealing with the attention head on had turned out to be liberating, and some islanders were also starting to recognize her, even in neighborhoods she rarely passed through.
‘The girl with that water kitten.’
“Maahd!”
“Hold on, Mida…” Luvia’s lips moved as she read the flyer to herself,
Issued on August 3rd, 225 G.S
TEMPORARY ASSISTANTS NEEDED
On the 12th of August through to the 16th, a large-scale ecological survey is scheduled to take place across the southern off-coast territories of the region.
If you are a trainer and meet any three of the following criteria, you are encouraged to apply,
* Own a mountable pokémon capable of surfing or flying (for flying pokémon, a flying license must be presented).
* Own a pokémon trained in dowsing (given priority).
* Are familiar with a designated survey area.
* Are not afraid of potential wild pokémon encounters.
Recommended Trainer Rank: C and above (lower ranking trainers may still be considered)
Compensation: If picked, you will receive 75,000 League Credits (worth ?5,000) upon conclusion of the survey.
We thank you for your service.
…
Luvia felt ill.
“Meehd?”
“W-wait, Mida…” Her mouth in that moment was acting as a flycatcher. Blood thrumming through her head, she tasted her mouth and gulped.
That was it. This job covered the trip to Slateport City and then some.
She was so baffled by the compensation part that she looked from side to side to see if anyone else was so much as glancing at the board.
It was happening in less than a week – five days!
Four if she didn’t count this one.
Three if she didn’t count the actual day it started.
Wait - two if she didn’t count the day it’d take her to prepare!
No, hold on, it was happening now!
She slowly set down her backpack stuffed with the rolled up raft and Mida’s harness, never taking her eyes off the flyer.
She read it again, reading the issue date twice back to back and the three criteria with a sinking feeling in her stomach.
She wasn’t quite at the tour-guide level, but she knew Clearcloud Island. Check!
Not afraid of wild pokémon? Alright come on, maybe a tiny bit if – NO! Check!
Dowsing? What the hell was that? Check… maybe?
Surfing or flying? Mida could swim, and she had a very capable raft right there in her bag. They had also just won a race for goodness sake! Check!
…
Then it dawned on her… This was a League-issued job. They were paying in League Credits.
She had no license.
But I need this job to get my license! It was paradoxical. The classic Chansey or the egg scenario.
How could she get the job needed to get her license, if she needed a license to get the job she’d need to get her license???
“Meehd!”
“Mida, we have to do this, right?” Luvia gazed hopelessly at the little one.
“Meehd!”
“But I don’t have a license!”
“Meehd!”
The girl glanced back at the flyer with a quickly aching crinkle in her brow.
She had made a fraction of the amount she’d need for the basic ferry ticket to the mainland. A fraction of the transport cost in 1.5 months.
She had 4 good months left, and if she was lucky, she’d just about cover that very basic transport cost.
She explicitly recalled her mother saying she’d need to cover the “cost of taking the exam.”
As in the full thing.
According to Andrea, the exam cost itself wasn’t expensive, sitting at around ?600, but then there was accommodation to take into account, food for herself and Mida, and the sort of stuff she’d never had to think about before.
It was her own mother’s way of preparing her for the lifestyle she was so eagerly running toward.
“We’re doing this job, Mida!”
“Maahd!”
She’d figure it out later, but she was 100% sure that she was going to show her face on that day. And she was going to arrive packing. Packing one very tough mudkip.
Half-wanting to rip the flyer off the board and stuff it in her bag, she settled for memorizing every detail she could and repeating it in her head like a mantra all the way home.
