A Homecoming
It was poor pickings on the busy roads of Jubilife. While never a rich life, the struggle was at its worst in the height of gym season, when the popular spaces were swept clean for the eyes of tourists and police were ever-watchful for vermin—homeless Pokemon and humans alike. And so every year the unwanted of the area were forced to retreat, either deeper into the city where rival Pokémon were stronger and scraps were fewer, or out into the routes where territorial boundaries were less well-known, but with a little luck fresher fare like Berries and nuts could be poached.
The Rattata had not had such great luck as that, but she had managed to trail a pair of excited novice trainers—more lung capacity than sense, but with Pokéballs enough to make up for any human foolishness—long enough for one to drop a half-eaten cookie. She stole away into the bushes, stuffing her stomach and her cheeks full before any other wild Pokémon could find and harry her to drop her prize. Important work done and the ever-gnawing hunger in her stomach put to rest, she peered out of her hiding spot to see if the coast was clear—and froze. Even her whiskers stopped twitching from pure shock.
Then the moment passed and she was moving, boosting the pace with the coiled power of Quick Attack in her muscles, darting back towards the city limits in a streak of ragged purple. She ran and ran and ran until she found herself in the middle of a dark shadow. There! A Luxio, tall and scarred, lip curling in a snarl at this intruder in his pack's territory. Not a killing blow, but even a warning could wound.
"Wait!" She squeaked, cowering back. "Wait, wait! I saw her! I saw the human stray!"
The Luxio stood still, silent. Then, he slowly lowered his paw and leaned in. The Rattata flinched back as his Intimidation washed over her. "But she is gone?"
"She is coming back!" The Rattata argued, bristling. "I saw her, I saw her on the road! She was talking to two other humans but she was facing the city! She is coming back!"
"She is coming back!" The Luxio's ears perked up. "I will tell the pride. Will you spread the word?"
"I will try." The hunger clung to her like a weight again, like lead in her veins. Her whiskers drooped. The Luxio tilted his head, considering, before leaning down and butting her with his forehead, then rubbing against her with both cheeks. Electric-type energy sparked against her short fur and tingled along her limbs. He pulled back and sniffed.
"The others will know you are allowed, now." He turned to lope off. "Find food here and then go tell the Murkrow."
The Rattata squealed and raced for a nearby alley, full of glorious dumpsters. Within minutes she would be gone again, searching out the Murkrow, then the Abra, then the Machoke, as the news swept across the city.
The human stray was back.
Their human child was back!
The Murkrow found her next. The murder split across the routes and little branches along the main paths, searching, calling, until at last a mass of black feathers converged over a single spot. Trainers and Rangers alike glanced up at the Bird Pokémon, some with concern at the strange behavior, some with disdain on principle towards the pests. Several thumbed Pokéballs—empty or otherwise.
The Murkrow ignored them all, focusing instead on that one particularly small trainer. They insulted her preening skills, her attack power, her intelligence, all of their most favorite and fondest Taunts. They welcomed her to the city as only Murkrow could and then settled and squawked, waiting eagerly for her to respond.
They remembered her cursing, her thrown pebbles, her unsteady chases. They had missed them. They waited for the little beast they remembered to respond.
Instead she looked up at them, and smiled.
Shock fluttered through the murder. A few even missed wingbeats, faltering in the air and losing a bit of height before righting themselves. Then—delight. Excitement! A handful of younger Murkrow shot more Taunts down at the road, hoping for the fun of a few thrown stones—and perhaps still testing her, just the slightest bit—but for the most part the Flying-types cawed amongst themselves, voices high with this new development.
"Did you see—"
"—taught her all those fun human words and she didn't even use any—"
"Shut up! This is good—"
"—she smiled! Like a human!"
It was only when an older Murkrow, feathers scruffy and graying with ill care, noticed one of the Rangers raising a Capture Styler towards them that the murder dispersed. As the word spread across the city streets and alleys so too did it spread in the sky, slipped between teasing insults at Starly and alley Glameow.
Jubilife City comes to life. Wild Pokémon, normally driven into the shadows lest the wrong eyes see past Jubilife's gleaming veneer, seethe at the fringes of main streets. Police and even a few Rangers with heavier pockets than most are quick to react, but the Pokémon are harder to scare off than normal, and too much aggression draws more attention than not.
Amid the barely-hidden chaos, the girl slips through the city limits and off of the main street. Quickly, the presence of Pokémon by the road peters off. The officers sigh in relief. The Rangers wonder, but do nothing more.
One block, then two, and soon the shine of main street gives way to the soul of the city. The pavement becomes pitted with holes, paint fades, litter skitters across the street as if it were alive. And the massed, mismatched Pokémon trailing her swell.
When she comes to a stop near a gutter drain where Wooper often play. They burble at her in greeting, dancing around on their stubby little feet. A few psychics in the group—Medidite, for the most part, and one Abra awake enough to Teleport to join them—and some further afield brush against her mind and find new, practiced shields. Machop squeeze in with Starly, Aipom and Scraggy crowd a rail-thin Houndoom even as her pups yip at them. A few Ghost Pokémon flicker at the edges of the crowd, their general urges towards mischief swept aside in the face of such an event.
Keen eyes—and a few Keen Eyes—pick out the changes while most just soak in the girl's presence. Straighter shoulders, no longer hunched and ready for blows. Cheeks and eyes no longer sunken in on her face. Whispers of old Type energy, faded with time but lingering on few items. Pokéballs on a belt at her waist, humming with the curiosity of the Pokémon within.
"Hi, everyone." Mal Rivets, once a stray but never again, said. "It's just for a bit, but, well…"
Slowly, nervous despite herself and what she's learned on her journey, she smiled at her strange family. "I'm home."
