Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ Luck ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )

Luck

 

Chapter Three

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My name is Stefanie Streaks. I'm fourteen, I have red hair and gray eyes, and…what was I doing? Oh, yeah. After Zalira and I dragged this weird thing that attacked us back to the University where my dad works, he took it into one of his labs with the other professors and started analyzing it. Zalira and I decided to get some sleep after a Taming session to reward her.

 

At about six in the morning, Dad burst into my bedroom in our apartment and said that he needed to talk to me about that thing. We got in his jeep and were speeding to the campus while he bombarded me with questions.

 

“I thought it was just a pokegirl, but the pokedex didn't have any data, and the Pokeball didn't work,” I told him. Zalira was still snoozing in her Pokeball since I didn't want to wake her up.

 

“What did it do exactly? I need to know.”

 

“It started growling when I took out the pokedex, and started dodging Zalira's attacks when we started to battle. It got past her and started to attack me, but it just fell over. Zalira used Sleep Powder, and we dragged it to you.”

 

Daddy's jaw was set as I told him. We parked haphazardly in the lot behind his lab and ran through the automatic doors. I followed him down the hallway and into one of the rooms. In there, on an operating table like what you might find in a hospital, was a man.

 

He was maybe six feet tall, with well-defined muscles and no extra body fat whatsoever. His long hair was pulled into a rust-colored, gray-speckled braid; his eyes were closed in sleep. I walked over to the table, staring at his left shoulder. There was a semicircle of black marks, and the collarbone wasn't shaped right. It was bent at an odd angle, and didn't seem natural.

 

“Stefanie, this young man is the same thing you brought in last night,” Daddy said. I looked at him in disbelief, but he just shook his head and continued. “This morning, he was still in that furry form that you saw. When the sun rose, he started twisting around, and the next thing we knew, he was like this.”

 

“But, how did…”

 

“I don't know. He's not a human, I do know that. That and he's been in a lot of fights,” Daddy continued. I looked closer at the sleeping man's body, and saw countless scars all over him. There were long ones that had once been gashes and cuts, small round ones that looked like puncture wounds, and even a set of five claw marks across the left side of his face that made it look like he had pissed off a Cheetit or maybe a RandySnatch.

 

“Ma…. Mana,” the man breathed, barely more than a whisper. I leaned in closer, not even listening to Daddy saying, “The left shoulder is what's bothering me. He was obviously bitten by something, which broke his clavicle. Apparently, that wasn't set correctly and didn't heal right.”

 

I leaned in over the man's face, watching as his eyes darted back and forth under his eyelids. Eyelids that snapped open. The man pushed me away and jumped off of the table, backing up against the wall. He held his fists up in a defensive position, glaring at us with gray eyes that were as sharp as a scalpel.

 

“Easy, now,” Daddy said, slowly walking towards the man who, I realized with a blush, was naked. “We're not going to hurt you. We just want to help.”

 

“I don't need help from a pathetic human like you,” he growled. No, I mean literally growled, like a Growlie would if you threatened her Tamer.

 

“Okay then. I just have a few questions for you. Will you answer them?”

 

“That depends. You give me your answer to the same question first.” Daddy sighed, knowing this was a far as he could get reasonably.

 

“How about your name? What is it? I am Professor Streaks”

 

The man seemed to be considering whether or not to answer before coming to a conclusion.

 

“Okami Kokennin,” he declared.

 

“Okay, then, Kokennin. How old are you? I am thirty-eight.”

 

“Nineteen. What about her?” he asked, jerking his head towards me.

 

“I'm Stefanie Streaks. I'm fourteen years old,” I said. He glared at me, and then sniffed like some pokegirl. This guy just keeps getting more and more confusing.

 

“Where am I? What was that bug thing? What was in that shell by the lake?”

 

“You're at a school. I believe that you are referring to my daughter's pokegirl, Zalira. Stefanie, if you would.”

 

I took his hint and released Zalira from her pokeball. In a burst of white light, she stood there, freshly rested and looking around her. When her eyes fell on Kokennin, she visibly jumped and moved between us.

 

“She's a Buttitsfree. Bug type, pretty common. Now, please, I have more questions.”

 

“Fine. Start asking, but first, I'm going to get my clothes,” he said, and the next thing we knew, he had thrown open the nearest window and thrown himself outside. Daddy, Zalira, and I reached the window at the same time and saw Kokennin jumping spans of about fifty feet at a time, heading in the same direction that we had dragged him from not eight hours ago.

 

“That idiot. Doesn't he know that running through the forest is a bad idea, and running through naked is an even worse one?” Daddy said. Zalira seemed quiet for a moment, and then shook her head as if to clear it.

 

“Zalira, could you follow him? We'll catch up to you,” I asked her. She nodded and catapulted herself out the window, following Kokennin from above.

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I ran through that unfamiliar forest, following the scent trail to the lake where I had been for the past few days. My clothes and bag with all of my supplies were still there, and I needed to get them before someone else did. That bug—a Buttitsfree I think he called it—was flying above me. A scout.

 

I dismissed it. That little pest would be no challenge at all. I burst through the tree line into the clearing and saw that my pack hadn't been disturbed. After sniffing the clearing to make sure it was all clear, I walked forward, quickly reaching my bag and scooping it up in my arms. I reached the pants I had discarded during my transformation and quickly jumped into them, tying the fastening cords together.

 

“Hey! Kokennin!” I heard. Those damn humans were following me. I threw the rough cotton shirt over my head and quickly pulled it down to hide the scars on my torso, though I wouldn't he able to hide what the Emperor did to my face.

 

“What do you want, human?” I demanded from her, enjoying the surprised look in her eyes. I reached in my pack for my belt and pulled it out, along with the two knives attached to it. They were twins, both about twelve inches long and the same age in years. I quickly fastened it about my waist and removed my jacket from the pack. It was tough leather, a kind of lightweight and flexible armor, and the same general color as everything else I had: some shade of brown.

 

“You're not a human, are you?” the professor stated more than questioned. I smirked—at least this one had a brain.

 

“Nice to know one of you figured it out. Of course my Mark was a dead giveaway,” I said as I donned my jacket and strapped on my pack. “Now, if you'll point me in the direction of the Capitol, I won't have to cause you bodily damage.”

 

I watched their eyes. Either they had no clue what I was talking about, or they were damn good actors. When they started speaking, they confirmed that they were clueless.

 

“Capitol? What are you talking about?” the professor, or doctor, or whatever the hell he is, spluttered. My smirk was gone, and my glare was back full force.

 

“The Capitol. The city where the Emperor lives—well, used to live.”

 

“Kokennin, let me explain a few things to you….”

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“So these `pokegirls' were weapons made by this tyrant a long time ago?” I summarized the last five minutes of speech from the humans into that one sentence. If there's one thing I've learned in my life, it's to just get what you need. “And since he's been defeated, the pokegirls have become pets, servants, and are still weapons.”

 

“That is correct. However, due to the pokegirls' biology, they need to be Tamed on a regular basis, or else they go Feral. Going Feral is something that the Pokegirls have reported as something they don't like. Most of the Domesticated pokegirls can speak and write, as well as understand basic principles of human life and can be trained to do domestic chores like cooking and cleaning.”

 

“And when they go Feral?” I asked.

 

“They lose all of that. Their language skills, their understanding…their humanity.”

 

I snorted. “They'd be better off if they weren't like you humans.”

 

“Which reminds me,” he continued. Doesn't this guy ever shut up? “Still going by our agreement earlier, I've told you about our world. Tell me about yours.”

 

“Fine. I'm from the Westtrum Empire. All laws, trade agreements, and everything else are decided by the Emperor. Species include the humans, Serpents, Driders, Mermaids, Centaurs, and Werewolves. I am a werewolf.”

 

“What is a werewolf? How are they different from humans?”

 

“You saw yourself. I turn into a wolf on the night of the full moon. That's all I'm going to tell you about that.”

 

“Oh, well. Maybe you can tell me later.”

 

“There's not going to be a later. You are going to find a way to get me back to my home,” I said with no room for argument.

 

“I can't do that. I have no idea how you got here to begin with, much less how to get you back,” he said with an aggravated sigh. I glared at him for a moment before his head snapped up.

 

“I have an idea. How about if you work as a Tamer while the professors here work on a way to get you back to your world?” he said. I sniffed the air, the only indication that I'd heard what he'd said. “All you would have to do to qualify is take a test and then pick a pokegirl to take with you on your journey.”

 

“Journey? I just finished a journey! What the hell makes you think I'm going to work for a human?” I roared at him. He cringed visibly when I jumped to my feet and stuttered his response.

 

“Y-you don't have much of a choice. Given your experiences, a life as a Tamer would be much more suitable for you than any of the other jobs available. If you just take the test, then we'll—”

 

“What part of I'm not going to work for you ####### humans do you not get?” I demanded. This professor was a complete imbecile! I've said it three times by now.

 

“I understand. However, if you're too scared and don't think you'll survive on your own…,” he said. I knew this tactic. Trying to trick me into becoming a Tamer by playing my ego? Ha. This trick was older than some of the Immortals of Westtrum.

 

“Nice try. The Trackers have used that trick before. Next.”

 

He was obviously running out of ideas. He steepled his hands and looked at me over his reading glasses.

 

“Okay, then, Kokennin. How about we just talk? Learn more about each other. I don't know about you, but I am certainly curious as to how you lived on your world. Please, tell me about yourself.”

 

That, however, was new. Trying to get me more comfortable so that I may be more inclined to agree. To hell with it. I'll humor him. I flopped down onto the chair I was sitting in earlier and crossed my arms over my chest.

 

“What do you want to know?”

 

“When were you born? What's your date of birth?” he asked, pulling out a clipboard and making a few marks on it.

 

“The ninth night of the seventh cycle. Nineteen years ago,” I said. He marked the paper on the board and continued his questions.

 

“How tall are you?”

 

“Five feet, eleven inches.”

 

“Hair and eye color—wait, that's obvious—red and grey?” More marking.

 

“Right.”

 

“Any medical issues, such as high blood pressure, near-sightedness, anything like that?”

 

Okay, I'll admit. That one had me stumped. I knew that my eyesight was better than any human's and even some other wolves, but what was blood pressure?

 

“No,” I said. Odds are I'd better keep some of these things to myself. I might need to know later.

 

“Any allergies?”

 

“Blood allergy to silver alloys,” I said reflexively. There are only two things that can kill a werewolf, and silver is one of them.

 

“Strange, but not unheard of,” the professor said, continuing with the marking on the paper. He continued with the questions, though some of them seemed more like how to care for a pet or something else that didn't feel like they'd fit in a medical survey.

 

“Well, that's the last question. I'll just scan the results into my computer, and….”

 

Again, he lost me. Just what did he mean by “scan” and what is a conbutar?

 

“Well, here are your results,” he said, looking at a rectangular object that was emitting light shaped into patterns that he could apparently read. A great smirk split his face, and I immediately moved into a subtle, yet battle-ready position.

 

“It seems,” he said while turning to face me, “that you are now a licensed Tamer.”

 

That son of a bitch. THAT SON OF A BITCH!!! I'll kill him! How dare he trick me!

 

“You're the one who answered the test. That means that, legally, you have to carry with you at least one pokegirl.”

 

I growled at him. “If you're trying to use that `It's the law' crap, you're not going to get ####. You want to know me? I am Okami Kokennin, of the infamous Okami Siblings. I have been living in the wild for the past twelve years. I have more warrants for my arrest than any other person in the history of the Empire. I have killed almost a hundred people in my quest!”

 

“And just what is that quest?” he asked, an innocent expression of curiosity on his face.

 

“That's none of your concern. Just know that I am not afraid to kill to get what I want,” I said in a low growl. He gulped and started to sweat. Good.

 

“You…you must have picked up some survival skills. Being on your own since you were seven must have been tough.”

 

“Shut up. I don't need sympathy from someone who doesn't know what they're taking about.” I was mad now. Faster than he could blink, I surged forward and lifted him up by the collar, my eyes narrowed as they burned holes in his own.

 

“I wasn't giving sympathy. I was giving a job offer.”

 

“What job?”

 

“My daughter, who you fought, is going to start her own Taming journey soon. I get very worried with her out there on her own. What if…what if we made a deal?”

 

I considered it for a moment.

 

“What kind of deal?”

 

“If you take one pokegirl from me and protect Stefanie while she's on her Journey, I'll devote all of my resources into finding a way for you to get back to your home,” he rambled rather rapidly. I smirked.

 

“You kill my enemy, I'll kill yours. If you can get me home, I'll protect your daughter,” I said, dropping him roughly on the ground.

 

“And you'll have to take a pokegirl to protect both of you,” he insisted.

 

“Listen. I've agreed to work with you, but I fight my own fights. Some girl isn't going to do my fighting for me,” I said. I walked out of the room, following my nose to where I knew the girl was.