I should have seen this coming a mile away. Hell, maybe I did have some kind of psychic powers, because I'd literally just been thinking about how my conversation with those kids could blow up in my face. The 'evil' type trainer is brainwashing our children. Called it like I was some kind of oracle.

  Though if I did have psychic abilities, I really hoped they didn't involve anyone else rooting around in my head. One Alakazam experience had been more than enough, thank you very much.

  The woman storming toward us across the grass looked exactly like what I'd expected Carl's mother to be. Mid-forties, perfectly styled blonde hair that probably cost more than most people's monthly grocery budget, designer clothes that screamed 'I want to speak to your manager,' and the kind of self-righteous fury that only came from believing the world revolved around your personal opinions.

  Mightyena was on her feet immediately, positioning herself between me and the approaching threat. Her hackles rose as a low growl rumbled in her chest. Umbreon pressed herself deeper against my chest, trying to disappear entirely.

  "You!" the woman practically shrieked, stopping just outside what she probably thought was a safe distance from Mightyena. "What do you think you're doing, filling my son's head with that... that propaganda!"

  I looked up at her calmly, keeping one hand stroking Umbreon's fur to keep her calm. "I answered some questions a curious kid asked me. Last I checked, that wasn't a crime."

  "Don't give me that!" She pointed an accusatory finger at me like I'd personally insulted her entire bloodline. "Carl is going to come home talking about auras and how Dark-types aren't evil! You're corrupting him with your twisted ideas!"

  The sheer audacity of it almost made me laugh. Almost. "Ma'am, your son asked me for advice about raising his Pokémon. What was I supposed to do, tell three kids to fuck off when they just wanted answers?"

  Her face went red at my language, and I could practically see the steam coming out of her ears. "How dare you use that kind of language! And those weren't just answers, those were lies designed to make children think those monsters are safe!"

  I felt my own temper starting to rise. Umbreon whimpered softly in my arms, picking up on the tension, and I forced myself to take a deep breath. Getting into a screaming match with Karen here wasn't going to help anyone, especially not the traumatized Pokémon I was holding.

  "Look, lady," I said, keeping my voice level but making no effort to hide my annoyance, "I don't know you, I don't care what you think about me or my Pokémon, and I sure as hell don't need your permission to have a conversation with another trainer. Your son has a Dark-type Pokémon whether you like it or not. Would you rather he get advice from someone who actually knows how to care for them, or would you prefer he figure it out on his own and potentially get hurt?"

  "He shouldn't have that thing in the first place!" she snapped. "No decent child should be associating with evil creatures! And now you've convinced him to keep it!"

  "I didn't convince him of anything. I told him to think for himself and judge his Pokémon by its actions, not its typing. If that's too radical a concept for you to handle, that sounds like a you problem."

  The woman's mouth opened and closed like a Magikarp out of water. She was clearly not used to people talking back to her, especially not some teenager with 'evil' Pokémon.

  "This is unacceptable!" she finally managed. "I'm going to report you to Officer Jenny! Corrupting children, spreading dangerous misinformation, threatening public safety with those monsters!"

  I actually did laugh at that. "Go right ahead. I'm sure Officer Jenny will be thrilled to hear how I answered a kid's questions about Pokémon care. Really sounds like a priority case for law enforcement."

  Her face went from red to purple. "You think this is funny? When my son gets mauled by that beast he's keeping, it'll be on your head!"

  "If your son gets hurt, it'll be because you didn't bother to learn how to help him care for his Pokémon properly. But hey, easier to blame the stranger than take responsibility for your own parenting choices, right?"

  That did it. She turned on her heel and stormed off, muttering something about 'delinquents' and 'concerned citizens' and 'proper authorities.' I watched her go, shaking my head in disgust.

  "Well," I said to Mightyena, who was still watching the woman's retreat with obvious suspicion, "that went about as well as expected."

  Mightyena huffed and settled back down, but her ears remained perked and alert. She'd clearly decided that this new development required extra vigilance.

  Umbreon had spent the entire confrontation trying to become one with my ribcage, and I could feel her heart racing against my chest. The shouting and anger had clearly triggered something in her. Memories of her own traumatic experience with humans, probably.

  "It's okay," I murmured, stroking her fur gently. "She's gone. Just another ignorant person who doesn't know what she's talking about."

  But even as I said it, I knew this wouldn't be the end of it. Karen types like that didn't just make empty threats and then let things go. She'd follow through on her promise to contact Officer Jenny, which meant I'd probably be dealing with an official visit sometime tomorrow.

  At least Officer Jenny would be reasonable about it. The one I'd dealt with so far had been professional and fair, even when dealing with situations involving Dark-types. Still, it was annoying to have to deal with this kind of bullshit when all I'd done was try to help some kids understand their Pokémon better.

  The rest of the evening passed quietly, thankfully without any more uninvited visitors. I managed to get both Pokémon fed and settled for the night, though Umbreon remained more skittish than usual. The confrontation had definitely set back some of the progress she'd been making.

  I found myself lying awake again that night, staring at the ceiling of our Pokémon Center room and thinking about the conversation with Carl and his friends. Had I said too much? Given them ideas that would get them in trouble with their families?

  Probably. But what was the alternative? Let them struggle with Pokémon they didn't understand because their parents were too prejudiced to help? Let them possibly get hurt because no one had bothered to explain how Dark-types actually worked?

  No. I'd done the right thing. If that made me a troublemaker in the eyes of people like Carl's mother, so be it. At least the kid would have a better chance of building a healthy relationship with his Poochyena.

  ---

  Officer Jenny arrived the next morning while I was having breakfast with Mightyena and Umbreon behind the Pokémon Center. I'd gotten into the habit of feeding them back there where it was quieter and away from the stares and whispered comments of other trainers.

  This Jenny was definitely different from the one in Oldale, though I couldn't put my finger on exactly how. Same basic appearance, same uniform, but something about her presence felt different. Maybe it was the way she carried herself, or the particular shade of teal in her hair. The symbol on her hat was definitely different though – Petalburg's emblem instead of Oldale's.

  "Lazarus Hunter?" she asked as she approached, though her tone was more professional courtesy than accusation.

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  "That's me," I said, not bothering to get up from where I was sitting cross-legged on the grass. Umbreon was curled up in my lap, and I didn't want to disturb her when she was finally relaxed.

  "I'm Officer Jenny, Petalburg division. I received a complaint yesterday evening about an incident involving you and some local children."

  I nodded, having expected this. "Let me guess. Blonde woman, expensive clothes, attitude problem?"

  Jenny's mouth twitched in what might have been the beginning of a smile. "That would be Mrs. Catherine Marsh. She claims you were spreading 'dangerous misinformation' to her son and his friends about Dark-type Pokémon."

  "I answered some questions about Pokémon care that her son asked me," I said simply. "Three kids wanted to know about raising a Poochyena, so I shared some thoughts based on my own experience. Nothing more, nothing less."

  "And what exactly did you tell them?"

  I gave her the same basic rundown I'd given the kids, minus some of the more colorful language I'd used with their mother. Jenny listened without interrupting, occasionally jotting notes in a small pad.

  "So you told them Dark-types aren't inherently evil, that they require emotional connection and trust to train effectively, and that they should ignore other people's prejudices about their Pokémon?"

  "Pretty much, yeah."

  Jenny closed her notepad. "Well, I hate to disappoint Mrs. Marsh, but none of that constitutes a crime. Giving training advice to other trainers is perfectly legal, and frankly, your advice sounds more helpful than what most people would have told them."

  I felt some of the tension I hadn't realized I'd been carrying leave my shoulders. "So I'm not in trouble?"

  "Not even close. However," Jenny's expression hardened slightly, "Mrs. Marsh is."

  That got my attention. "She is?"

  "This is the fourth false report she's filed in the past two months. Wasting police resources with frivolous complaints is a fineable offense, especially when it's a pattern of behavior." Jenny pulled out what looked like a citation book. "She'll be receiving a bill for 500 Pokédollars, and if she files another false report, the fine doubles."

  I couldn't help but grin at that. "Karma's a bitch, isn't it?"

  "Indeed it is," Jenny agreed, though her professional demeanor didn't crack. "Just try to avoid any more confrontations with concerned parents if you can help it."

  "I'll do my best, but I'm not going to stop helping trainers who ask for advice just because some people don't like my Pokémon."

  Jenny nodded approvingly. "Good. The world needs more trainers who actually understand what they're doing, regardless of what types they specialize in."

  After she left, I felt considerably lighter. Not only had I been cleared of any wrongdoing, but Karen had gotten exactly what she deserved for wasting everyone's time. There was a certain poetic justice to it that made the whole situation worth the hassle.

  With that drama resolved, I could focus on what actually mattered: taking care of my Pokémon. Mightyena had been watching the entire conversation with Officer Jenny with obvious interest, her head tilted in that way dogs do when they're trying to understand human behavior. Now that we were alone again, she seemed to expect some kind of activity.

  "What do you think, girl?" I asked, scratching behind her ears. "Want to play for a bit?"

  Her tail gave a tentative wag, which I took as encouragement. I looked around and found a suitable stick, nothing too big or unwieldy, and held it up for her to see.

  "Fetch?" I suggested, giving the stick a small toss to show her what I had in mind.

  Mightyena looked at the stick, then at me, then back at the stick. Her expression was so clearly unimpressed that I actually laughed out loud.

  "Not a fan of fetch, huh?"

  She walked over to the stick, sniffed it once, and then looked back at me with what could only be described as disdain. Like I'd just suggested she perform some kind of degrading trick for treats.

  "Alright, fair enough," I said, tossing the stick aside. "What would you prefer?"

  The answer, it turned out, was attention. Pure, undivided attention in the form of scratches, pets, and belly rubs. The moment I settled down on the grass and patted my legs, Mightyena was there, leaning into my touch and making soft rumbling sounds of contentment.

  She was particularly fond of having her chest scratched, just above where her front legs met her body. When I found the right spot, her hind leg would start kicking involuntarily, and her eyes would close in bliss. It was ridiculously endearing, seeing this powerful predator reduced to a happy puddle of fur by some simple affection.

  "You're just a big dog, aren't you?" I said, working my fingers through the thick fur around her neck. "All that intimidating presence, and what you really want is someone to pet you."

  Mightyena's response was to roll over onto her back, exposing her belly in a gesture of complete trust. Her tongue lolled out slightly, and her tail thumped against the ground.

  The transformation from fierce protector to content companion was remarkable.

  I obliged, rubbing her belly while she squirmed and wiggled with obvious pleasure.

  Her fur was surprisingly soft under the coarser outer layer, and I could feel the powerful muscles beneath. This was a Pokémon who could probably take down most threats without breaking a sweat, and she was currently acting like an oversized puppy. Umbreon had been watching this entire display from her spot a few feet away, her head tilted with what looked like curiosity. She'd never seen Mightyena like this, playful and relaxed instead of alert and protective.

  "Your turn next," I told her, giving Mightyena one final belly rub before sitting up. "Time to check those paws."

  I'd been dreading this part of the daily routine since we'd arrived in Petalburg. Changing Umbreon's bandages was necessary, but it involved handling her injured paws, cleaning the wounds, and applying fresh antiseptic. All things that had caused her significant distress in the past.

  But as I prepared the medical supplies, laying them out where she could see them, Umbreon did something that surprised me. Instead of trying to hide or pull away, she actually moved closer, settling herself within easy reach of my hands.

  "You ready for this?" I asked softly, showing her the bottle of antiseptic. "This is going to sting a bit, but it'll help you heal faster." She made a soft sound that I'd learned meant acknowledgment, if not quite agreement. Her body was tense, but she wasn't trying to escape.

  I started with her front left paw, carefully unwrapping the bandage that had been protecting the cut pads. The wound looked better than it had yesterday, less inflamed and showing signs of proper healing. Progress.

  "Looking good," I murmured, gently cleaning away any debris. "Just need to disinfect it and wrap it up again."

  The antiseptic still made her whimper and tense up, but she didn't pull away. Her claws extended slightly from the pain, and tears gathered in her eyes, but she held still and let me work. It was a remarkable display of trust from a Pokémon who'd been so terrified of humans just a few days ago.

  "I know it hurts," I said, working as quickly and gently as possible. "You're being so brave. Just a little more."

  Each paw was the same routine: unwrap, clean, disinfect, bandage. And each time, Umbreon endured the pain without trying to flee. By the time I finished with all four paws, she was exhausted from the stress and discomfort, but she'd made it through without a single attempt to escape.

  "All done," I said, securing the last bandage. "You did so well, Umbreon. I'm proud of you."

  She looked up at me with those wide, dark eyes, and for the first time since I'd found her, she made a sound that wasn't quite a whimper or a cry. It was softer, more questioning. Like she was trying to communicate something specific but didn't know how.

  "What is it?" I asked, settling back on my heels.

  Umbreon shifted slightly, moving closer to where I was sitting. Then, very carefully, she pressed her head against my hand. Not the desperate clinging of someone seeking comfort, but the deliberate contact of someone offering affection.

  It was a small gesture, but it felt great. This was the first time she'd initiated physical contact with me, the first sign that she saw me as something more than just a temporary source of safety and food.

  "Thank you," I whispered, gently stroking her head. "That means a lot."

  Mightyena had been watching this entire exchange with obvious approval, her tail wagging slowly as she observed Umbreon and me. She seemed to understand the significance of the moment better than I did. Better than I ever would likely. Dogs are like that.

  As the afternoon wore on, I found myself thinking about progress. Not just Umbreon's physical healing, but her emotional recovery as well. The trust she'd shown during the bandage change, during the words with Carl's mother, the fact that she was finally starting to initiate contact instead of just accepting it.

  She was healing, even if she tries to become one with my ribs. Slowly, carefully, one day at a time, but she was definitely getting better. The question now was what would happen when she was fully recovered. Would she choose to stay with Mightyena and me, or would she want to leave?

  I hoped she'd stay. Not just because I'd grown attached to her, but because I genuinely believed she'd be happier and safer as part of our little family. The world was harsh enough for abandoned Pokémon without the added burden of Dark-type prejudice.

  But that choice would have to be hers to make. All I could do was continue to provide the care, patience, and understanding she needed to heal. And maybe, if I was lucky, she'd decide that what we had together was worth keeping.

  For now, though, it was enough to sit in the grass behind the Pokémon Center, watching Mightyena doze in the afternoon sun while Umbreon rested peacefully beside me.

  These quiet moments of contentment were rare enough in this world. I wasn't going to waste them worrying about what might come next.

  Whatever challenges tomorrow brought, we'd face them together. The three of us against whatever prejudice, ignorance, or outright hostility the world decided to throw our way.

  And maybe, just maybe, we'd make it through with our bonds intact and our spirits unbroken and healed. That sounds good. A great deal better than bumble around and figure it out.