As if on cue, the sleek polished glass door slid apart and splashed Lucas with a minty-fresh cool breeze, as if peppermint candy was licking his face.

  But nothing could've prepared him for the flock of sweet eye candy that crashed into his face! It almost brought him to his knees.

  "Dude, it's just a store. Why do you look like you're about to cry?" Dawn strolled into the gallery of shelves and aisles, casually grabbing a blue basket from one of the stacks by the door.

  She stopped and turned back at the... shall we say, clueless and innocent boy standing by the door with twinkling galaxies of disbelief swirling in his eyes.

  "Are you coming? You'll catch a flu standing under the door air-conditioning thingy, silly..." Dawn said.

  "Sure!" Lucas didn't hesitate, hopping after the girl, past the cashiers wearing amused smiles behind their tills and straight into this little Dreamland.

  Could he believe it? He certainly couldn't!

  The floor was white and shiny, squeaking into his ears as his head spun around the shelves like a UFO. Shelves stocked full of… everything—bright pink spray bottles, bright green spray bottles, bright yellow spray bottles—lined neatly in the most flawless rows; the lights were pure and white like stars installed into the ceiling; and what was that sound? Was that jazz? The silkiest smoothest jazz he’d ever heard kissed his ears to complete the supermarket experience!

  "Let's start with the most basic of basics," Dawn's voice pulled him out of Lalaland for a second, "This is a potion. Lucas—Lucas! I need you to look for a second, okay?"

  "Yeah... s-sorry, it's just—"

  "I know. But seriously, it's just 3500 dollars; it'll finish before you even blink—"

  "No, that's not it," Lucas said, shaking his head. "This is all new to me..."

  Dawn's fluffy yet sharp blue brows spiked up like heart monitoring machines. He couldn't have been serious. No way.

  "If you tell me you've never been to a Poké Mart once in your life, I'll drop dead right now and give you 5000 dollars next month because I know you'd be lying."

  But Lucas just stared at her. And there it was, swimming in his bleached blue eyes: the truth.

  The words "Oh my gosh..." dropped right out of Dawn's mouth.

  "Well—it’s not like we don’t have any shops in Twinleaf; they just don’t look… like this, and they definitely don't have as much stuff; people usually just come here or go to Jubilife to get stuff for their Pokémon," he explained, demystifying the whole situation.

  "Wow…” she said, “If you think this is impressive, you should see the department store in Veilstone—okay, let's come back down to Earth. This is a potion."

  Lucas ogled the simple plastic purple spray bottle in her hands.

  "Lucas, this is your best friend in the whole world as a trainer. Never go anywhere without this; apply it on the wound," she said, dropping it into the blue basket hanging on her arm like a handbag.

  "What about this one? 'For super-effective healing' That sounds way stronger; why don't we just buy this one?" Lucas pulled another spray bottle from the shelf. “It looks like some sort of artifact or relic; definitely doesn’t look like any potion I’ve ever seen. So… deluxe.”

  Dawn merely pointed at the laminated tag stuck on the shelf’s edge as she casually strolled away, straightening her coat.

  Full Restore: 3000p.

  Ouch.

  Lucas gritted his teeth and followed behind her.

  "This is your other best friend."

  Lucas ogled a mini dark green can sitting in Dawn's hand. It had a little Poké Ball printed onto it. "A classic repel. When you're tired of being jumpscared by random nonsense in the grass—not that wild Pokémon only stay in the grass (Oh my god I hate being in the wild)—two quick sprays on your body and voila! Tu es libre! Sorry, that was my inner Fantina. Just apply this to avoid harassment from angry Pokémon while you trespass through their territory without a warrant."

  In no time flat, the basket was full of an assorted party of supplies; they were heavy, all the sprays and cans. No wonder Dawn handed him the basket midway through their spree. Regardless, they'd reached the till after about 20 minutes of hardcore mentoring and explaining to Lucas that he was too broke to buy any other type of potion or repel.

  "Would you like a plastic?" The lady behind the till asked Lucas with a sweet smile.

  "What—I thought we weren’t using plastics anymore? I was about to buy a tote bag; my last one broke—anyway, you’ll just carry everything in your bag, Lucas. Get used to it." Dawn said. “Besides, pollution’s for losers—oh, by the way: do you have any dry-sweet poffins—oh! And where can I find Omega 3 pills?”

  "What do you need Omega 3 pills for?” Lucas asked.

  "It’s not for me.”

  After another brief exchange that involved nit-picking, Lucas smiled, "Thanks, Dawn... I–"

  "Excuse me, Lucas Grey?"

  Both Dawn's and Lucas's heads snapped in the direction of a jolly yet professional voice.

  It was a man.

  He was wearing a straight, clean, and qualified green suit lined with streaks of black and shiny golden buttons. He had spotless black gloves, as if he wanted no mark of his presence left on whatever he touched.

  "Yes?" Lucas scraped the words out of his throat. “I didn't steal anything; I promise, all we did was buy a few supplies!” His eyes squinted, trying to recognize the man, but he was wearing a cap that fit so perfectly on his head that it almost completely covered his eyes. Come to think of it:

  Was there a security guard when he'd walked in? He was too awed by the whole store to notice. He really should've paid more attention to his environment.

  "Good evening. I've received a special gift for you, Mr. Grey." The man said, his hand holding out a cardboard delivery box sealed with tape, complete with tags and barcodes.

  Lucas's slowly turned to Dawn, her eyes about as blank as white paper. She didn't seem phased at all; in fact, she looked a bit irritated at his slow processing? That's what it looked like to him.

  "Sorry, who's this from? I never ordered anything…" Lucas asked, staring at the man's half-covered face.

  He pulled his cap even further down his face (as if he needed to). "I'm sorry, but the sender would like to remain anonymous. They told me it was absolutely imperative you received it..." the strange man explained.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Well, that didn't help anyone with anything, and now a funny feeling stirred in Lucas's heart. That was until he felt a nudge on his shoulder.

  "Are you gonna take it or...? I hate to constantly nag you and all, Lucas, but we kinda have things to do and places to be, so you might wanna make like a Sharpedo and boost your speed," Dawn said, her head tilted towards the door.

  ...

  "I mean… it is a free gift. Plus, I'm too curious to turn it down when I haven't seen what's inside… I'll take it. Thank you, sir.”

  The box exchanged hands, and Lucas politely nodded and followed behind Dawn (who was staring at her Pokétch very condescendingly at that moment) toward the exit.

  "Lucas."

  The boy froze upon hearing the man's silent voice echoing in his ears.

  "It's for later.”

  Obviously, there was something weird about the situation. When the two exited, Lucas gave Dawn a strange look, unable to shake off this feeling of… urgency.

  “Hey, this might sound a little crazy (and I honestly might be), but was that security delivery guy or whatever he was always there?”

  Dawn gave him a funny look, one he didn't like at all. The type of look people give you when they don't understand; when you act off. But he wasn’t acting off—she was.

  “Uhh… Yeah?” she said, tracing her lips with a stick of Pecha lip therapy with her phone in hand, “He was right by the door, Lucas; you should really pay attention to your—”

  “Sorry, I know, I know; it's just…” he fixed his scarf. "I can't take this. Something doesn’t feel right," he said, making a sharp U-turn back into the store. Lucas's eyes darted all over the place, lying to themselves with the prospect of the strange man reappearing if they just looked away and looked back.

  But strangely enough…

  "Excuse me," Lucas walked up to one of the ladies behind the till. "Where's the security guard?"

  "I'm sorry, who?"

  "The security guard—the man dressed in a fancy green suit who was standing right by the door."

  The clerk turned to her colleague as if telepathically telling each other that this kid was crazy; seriously, what security guard was he even talking about?

  "Sorry, but we don't have a security guard. It's just us. There's no one else who works here," she said with a polite, half-concerned smile. “Is there any other way we can help you? Would you like to buy anything else?”

  … He was gone.

  Lucas exited the store again, the parcel still in hand and his mind spiraling. Outside, Dawn glared at him with icy eyes, her hands on her hips as she pointed at the Pokétch again in frustration.

  "Come on, Lucas, do you know what time it is? You could've at least told me you forgot something if you needed to go back in the store," she hissed.

  "What?" Lucas's voice was spiked with confusion.

  "It's fine, no big deal. Listen, if we're gonna work together, we gotta communicate.” She shook her head, sighing. “It's fine. No need to get worked up. Let's just get on with things.”

  "Wait, Dawn, I was returning this box to that guy in the green suit; what do you mean—"

  "What guy in a green suit? There's never anyone other than those two in there, and I never saw a guy in a suit. A green suit at that—who wears a green suit? Wait, what kind of green? Like lime green? Anything other than emerald is just… ugh! People don't respect themselves." She scoffed, shivering in disgust as she adjusted her white beanie. It needed to look perfect.

  The two marched out of the small sandy town and into the grassy greenery of Route 202. Pine trees, shrubs, and chirping. The sky had a bit of glitter in it, stars twinkling as the sun's dying orange flame was being consumed by the violet darkness of night.

  Wasting no time, Dawn pulled a Poké Ball out of the marshmallow-looking bag hanging on her shoulder and pressed the white button. A bright blue flare burst like a firework, and out he came.

  "Hi sweetie!" Dawn squealed in a high pitch as she smothered her Piplup in hugs and kisses. She dug in the pocket of her rosy red trench coat and pulled out a handful of small Poké Balls. "Lucas, meet my partner in crime and future Universal Master Rank Contest Champion: Tweety!”

  “Tweety…?” Lucas stared at her, deadpanned. “That's uhh… a name (._.).”

  “Excuuuuuse me? Is there something wrong with Tweety? Something doesn't sit well with you?” Dawn poked… more like jabbed—actually, stabbed his chest over and over with her finger; which hurt more than you'd think with her sleek glossy nails almost piercing through his chest through his jacket.

  “No, no, I was just saying that—”

  “That's what I thought.”

  Seeing another Piplup gave Lucas a strange feeling, like looking in a mirror but not at yourself? Something like that. Tweety pecked at that navy blue fluff he was dressed in, picking out any untidy bits and bobs—speaking of his fluff:

  “Look at those feathers… he’s super shiny; yeah, that’s some high-class sheen! He almost looks like you wash him in glitter or something…”

  “Obviously—looks matter, Lucas. Imagine walking around looking scruffy and untidy—no one's gonna take you seriously!” Dawn said, pulling out a tube of sweet-smelling hand lotion and rinsing her hands in the stuff. “You know, if a judge saw me and had no idea who I was (yet), my first impression would almost solely be based on looks. Plus, his sheen is super important; too tardy and he won't look good; speaking of which…”

  She dug in her bag, plastic crunching and crackling as she pulled out a little box of pink puffy poffins and gave one to Tweety—who didn't hesitate to pick it apart with peckish pecks; pecks steeped in mannered mannerisms. But yes indeed, this little penguin had to look prim and perfect if he was gonna win any contests and win any lady Piplups.

  “Hold on—oh, I get it!” he said, finally piecing things together. “I should've figured this out when you were talking about sweet-dry poffins and Omega 3; it was so obvious: you’re into contests, aren’t you?”

  Dawn nodded. “Yep, I’m gonna be a coordinator—wait, you actually seem to know a bit about this stuff.”

  “Well… my mom’s a coordinator, so… I kind of have to know all this stuff—but if you wanna be a coordinator then why are you working as an aide?”

  “Oh, I’m just here to get paid; do you know how expensive really smooth poffins are? Don’t even get me started on supplements and vitamins; I obviously need money to fund all that stuff, so I got this job; now I need even more for the preliminaries in three weeks, so I’m trying to do the jobs that pay big bucks—but that stupid… no. Never mind.” She shook her head as if trying to realign something; trying to straighten out her thoughts before they got out of line.

  Lucas didn’t know what to say in any of this; actually, his thoughts were still lingering on how he was the only one who remembered the man in a green suit who’d given him this random gift; a gift which, every time he considered unpacking, he felt unable to unravel. Nonetheless, the moon had already begun its rule over the sky, and the squawks from the seashore had been muted by the appearance of stars, replaced by far-off ringing and chirping from the grassy fields of Route 202—sounds that might’ve seemed sweet, or at least serene, if they weren’t undercut by emerging howls worming through the trees.

  A repellent of sorts. One that was certainly working on the pair of kids.

  “Well, there’s no way we can stay out now. Let’s meet back here early tomorrow, and maybe we can actually get stuff done,” Dawn said, zipping up her bag and fixing her beanie for the nth time to conclude their little session. “Eight o’clock sharp, I'm taking you over to Canalave, there's a book there I saw on the Sinnoh Myths that might help you. Of course, you can just use the Internet, but sometimes books are better."

  “Okay,” Lucas said.

  “Sharp means sharp, by the way. No later; remember.”

  Lucas nodded, taking her number to finally bring a close to their session.

  But not an end to the strange feeling swirling in his body as he trekked back home through the now-nightly Route 201, which lacked the incessant cries of Starlies—much like he lacked any clarity or answers on what on Earth had happened in that store.

  Now, the absence of Starlies wasn’t to say the night lacked flyers; in fact, there were a few Zubats screeching in the sky as they flapped their scrawny twin-tailed bodies around. Most notably was a big Staraptor (by the looks of it—he wasn’t too sure, but it had feathers) that had made its way up and down his trajectory six or seven times—not that he was counting. No, he was too swamped in thought to pay much attention, although, in his growing curiosity, he would stop a few times to try and observe the silent avian. Yes, it hardly made any noise; not even the flapping of its wings could be heard, unlike the handful of eyeless Zubats—and nothing like a mighty staraptor. On top of that, the more time his eyes observed it, the less it looked like a predatory Staraptor.

  All the way home, it followed him, past the snowy pine trees of his hometown, which were almost invisible to him, having seen them too many times to care. Many houses had light beaming through their windows—a sign that it was indeed no longer time to linger outside. He knocked on the door, instinctively awaiting Nanny to open up as she’d done countless times after he’d come back from hours at the Lakefront with Barry, only to remember she’d vanished.

  But not the bird.

  No, the bird was still there, strangely enough. It had decided to nestle on some branches, merging with the inky dark so perfectly that he could barely see it.

  He could still see it though. Just barely. Though he barely cared at that point, more interested in the prospect of a shower after that unbelievably strange day—maybe a plate of leftover Karp as he sat and watched the History Channel.

  Strangely enough, it was as he shut the door that he noticed it flap its broad, dark wings away. Losing interest.

  Gone.