Chapter Text
Ena had never really liked Pokémon.
That wasn’t to be mistaken with the idea that she disliked them. She just wasn’t interested in having any of her own. Ever since Ena was little, she’d had one focus, and it was art. She wanted to draw. She has always wanted to draw. She wanted to create things that meant something to people, it was as simple as that. It just so happened that she didn’t really need a Pokémon by her side to do that.
Until yesterday, this worked out fine for her. There was never much pressure for her to do anything else with her life than draw. Her father was an artist, so it didn’t really come as a shock for anyone when she expressed that she wanted to do the same.
However, something came up very recently. Of course, who other than her father, Shinei Shinonome himself, could have caused this obstacle, honestly? He had almost always been the center of most of the conflict in her life, so naturally, he’d be the one to turn her entire existence upside down like this.
Not only was he an artist, but he was a very famous one, especially across Kanto. One fact that certainly helped his reputation was the fact that he’s never owned any Pokemon. That’s fairly rare for people so popular. The idea that he could make it so far in the world centered around the very species it practically revolved around? It was awe-inspiring, to say the least.
… And maybe she wanted to be like that, too. So what?
Back to the issue at hand, though. Her father believed she had no talent for art. Frustrating as it was, he'd always been very straightforward about that fact. The problem was that for a while now, he’d been pushing very hard to make her change her mind about being an artist. He’d make comments like “You should just become a Trainer like your brother,” or “You don’t have what it takes,” and so on. To say the absolute least, she grew tired of it.
In fact, last night, she snapped. She remembered vaguely what happened; her father said something to make her angry. She’d already been in a bad mood (as she typically was these days) so she’d started yelling at him. He’d yelled back. She doesn’t really remember how it all went down, but it ended in her packing her things and leaving. Her father assumed she was just going to become a trainer, so he let her. Her mother wasn’t even home, and Akito’s been gone for years, so there wasn’t much resistance.
All in all, that’s how she found herself staring at the ceiling of a random inn. Last night, she took a train somewhere random and ended up crashing for approximately 12 hours. As she turns over dizzily to look at the clock, it reads 2pm. Sounds about right, except she doesn’t remember what time she got here last night.
Ugh...
Her body felt heavy as lead, but she knew she couldn’t lay here and sulk forever. She had to draw. If she didn’t draw, then she would never improve. If she never improved, then she’d be proving her father right.
She clenched the bedsheets and forced herself into a sitting position, but an immediate throb in her skull threatened to lay her right back down. She stifled a whimper, and with shaky hands, got out of bed. She was still in her outfit from yesterday, but she couldn’t be bothered to change.
Ena bent down next to her suitcase, digging in it until she found one of her many sketchbooks. This one was empty. She’d get a new start. She grabbed some paints, brushes, and the rest of the supplies she would need, and then shoved it all into her bag.
Slipping on her easiest pair of shoes, she stumbled out of her room, ignoring the aching of her head.
***
A few days (or maybe weeks) passed, but they all went relatively the same. Every day felt like a blur. Ena woke up and went outside to draw. Sometimes, if she felt especially faint, she’d grab a snack somewhere. It wasn’t very often she had actual meals. She didn’t really do anything else. On some days, she didn’t have the energy to go outside, so she’d just draw at the desk in her room or paint at the easel.
Today, she woke up with a headache, as usual, and brushed it off.
As usual.
Maybe I should paint.
Painting was something she tried to do fairly sparingly. If she ran out of canvases, then she’d have to drag herself out of her comfort zone (anywhere past the park outside of the inn) to an art store to buy new ones. She thought she’d been rather generous, but when she looked at her supposed stack, it appeared to be empty.
Then again, her room was a mess. It was very possible she’d lost them somewhere in the sea of broken pencils and torn apart papers that were supposed to be drawings. So, she dug around for a grand total of fifteen minutes before she came to the worst conclusion.
Ena was definitely out of canvases.
It was bound to happen eventually. She could hardly fit any in a few bags or suitcases, so she’d hardly had any from the day she left home. Still, it was irritating.
She could just draw. It was the first solution that came to her mind. If she wanted to avoid going out altogether, she very much could. She didn’t need a canvas for some simple sketching.
However, Ena was not that weak. (And mostly, she just wanted to get it over with.)
So, with all the strength she could muster and a headache that could make a full grown man drop dead on the spot, she set out on a shopping trip.
***
Ena had been out for at most ten minutes and she already felt like she was going to go crazy. She had no clue where she was, but it was clear that this part of Kanto was excessively busy. Worse, it was loud. Most of the people around her were chatting with each other or with their Pokémon partners. That made it almost 10x more irritating, because, like, who wants to listen to a creature repeating its name over and over again? It was grading on her nerves. Seriously.
She had thankfully found her way to the main part of town, but there were so many shops she hardly knew where to start. On top of that, most of them were Pokémon centered. A store where you could buy clothes for your Pokémon here, a place where you could get Pokémon themed snacks here— and a whole entire Pokémon Center over there! They were of no use to her. At all!
She was anything but itching to talk to people, but it was looking like she had no choice but to ask someone for help. She honestly didn’t know if she could make it another twenty minutes or so walking around in this heat, especially with the headache she had. So, she glanced around, searching for someone who looked approachable enough.
There didn’t seem to be many people just sitting down and resting, so she found that she had to keep walking a little further. She must have used up the rest of her luck for the next year or so though, because not too far away she spotted someone.
Across the path from her, there was a girl with black braids who had her head down. She sat neatly with a sketchbook in her lap, and she appeared to be drawing. She looked about Ena’s age, too. She had a sleepy-looking orange Pokémon with a moon on its head leaning against her arm.
Though this was probably the best opportunity she could get, it didn’t make her any more excited to talk to anyone. Nevertheless, she approached.
”Excuse me,” Ena’s voice came out more hoarse than it probably should have. It was most likely due to the severe lack of hydration, save for a sip of water or two a day, she’d been getting lately. She hunched her shoulders.
The girl before her looked a little startled, but she looked up at Ena with green eyes that were nothing short of friendly and a soft smile.
”Hm?”
Ena plays with the pleat of her own skirt absentmindedly.
”Do you happen to know where the art store is?”
The black-haired girl sat up straight, that polite smile not faltering for a second. Her Pokémon sat up next to her, yawning drowsily.
”Oh, yes, I do! I can take you there if you like?”
Relieved, Ena just offered a simple nod. She stepped back to give her space to stand up. The little Pokémon jumped down first, taking its trainer's hand dutifully and then following as she started to lead Ena down the path.
The silence felt oddly comfortable as they walked, and Ena found herself looking at the window of the shop they were walking next to. Suddenly, though, she found herself taken by surprise at the reflection that looked back at her.
Is that… really me?
She looked terrible. Her bangs were overgrown, her hair was messy, and the braid she usually kept in her hair was completely missing. The ribbon keeping it in place must have fallen out. Now that she looked down at herself, she was a complete mess. Her hands seemed to have gotten some of the worst of it. Paint was crusted all over her fingers and graphite was smeared across her palms; she even had little papercuts.
Suddenly feeling insecure, she shrank in on herself a bit, grabbing her arm and clenching her fist over the sleeve self-consciously. Was she really out in public looking like this? Recently, all she had been able to think about was drawing. It was such a priority that other things as necessary as eating, drinking, or even doing something as simple as taking care of herself felt completely irrelevant.
”So.. I’m Natsuno Futaba. This is my Teddiursa, he’s my partner. Uhm.. How about you?”
The braided blackette in front of her suddenly spoke, and Ena was knocked out of her thoughts. She turned away from the windows, facing Futaba despite herself. It had occurred to her that she was probably only helping Ena out of pity.
If a girl that looked like she’d just been dragged through hell itself asked for my help, I’d probably feel bad for her too.
“Just call me Ena,” She replied numbly. If Futaba was an artist, she almost definitely knew of her father. Telling this girl her last name would only bring herself trouble.
Futaba hummed in acknowledgement, but she looked inquisitive yet. Ena huffed.
”I don’t have any Pokémon,”
She added, and Futaba’s expression turned empathetic. Ena couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed, but she made no comment on it out loud.
The girls continued walking for a while, the rest of the journey in silence. Ena stared at her reflection again, self-hatred bubbling in her gut. All Futaba was trying to be was nice, so why could she only feel doubt? She didn’t trust her one bit. She even wanted to go so far as to think she was probably even judging her. Ena was being a bit of asshole for no reason, so it’d be stupid to think that she wasn’t irked at all.
More importantly, what was all of this even for? After she bought the canvases, she’d go back home and make more art. That was for certain. But why even try?
No matter what she did, she would never be as amazing as her father. She could never live up to his standards. After all, she had no talent. He’d said it himself. If she had no talent, then there was nothing she could do. Her passion for art could only get her so far. If she had natural talent, maybe she could stand a chance. Maybe her art could reach someone in the world.
But I don’t.
Every time she looked upon her drawings, all she could feel was disappointment. They aren’t good. They aren’t even decent. All of her creations are absolute garbage. That’s what happens when someone that wasn’t born to be an artist tries to be one.
”Ena-chan, here it is,”
Futaba gestured to the building that was now in front of them. Ena didn’t dare spare her a look, the tears pricking the corners of her eyes all too evident. She didn’t feel like explaining to this complete stranger the hell that was her mind right now, so she muttered a quiet “thank you,” before hurrying into the store, wiping her tears with her sleeve.
***
It smelled strongly of acrylic paint, as to be expected from an art store. Luckily enough for her, the place was almost completely empty. It was quite small and cozy, so she could see almost the entire store from her standing point at the entrance. There was nobody in here except for herself, the lady standing at the desk, and her Pokémon partner.
She beelined for the area where she saw canvases, making a point to check that they were the correct size before she grabbed a few. She didn’t want to come back here too soon, so she planned on getting ten or more, but she realized very quickly that her body was physically incapable of carrying that many at once. So, she settled for five.
Ena brought them up to the shopkeeper, forcing a strained smile even as she saw the woman’s pitying look. She paid for them, took the bag she offered quickly, and then left.
The original plan had been for her to go straight home after this, but she figured she probably needed a new ribbon for her hair. She wanted to retie her braid, and it just didn’t make sense to dig through her entire room to find it. She had an idea of how that was going to go. Then again, she couldn’t possibly find Futaba and ask for directions yet again. So, instead, she decided she’d just look for it herself.
She nibbled on her lip, trying to distract herself from going down another rabbit hole of self-deprecating thoughts yet again. Futaba had managed to guide her to an area with stores mostly meant for people as opposed to Pokémon, so she had that to thank her for.
That and her leading me to the art store in the first place.
Ena reminded herself dully. Finally, a store came into sight. It seemed to be a fashion store of some kind, so she wouldn’t be surprised if they had ribbons. Eager to get her shopping trip over with, she started walking up to the store— and then halted.
There appeared to be a scene of some sort going down in front of her. She could hear frenzied barking and growling, but she couldn’t exactly see. Three boys that looked about her own age blocked the way. A bad feeling coiling in her gut, she made her way quietly around them.
Suddenly, another person caught her eye. A girl with light pink hair is on the ground in front of the boys, a fluffy brown Pokémon in her arms. Another Pokémon is before them, barking madly as the boys stand there and just—
They’re bullying her!
Ena realized, much later than she’d have liked to. It only took one insult that she was in earshot of for it to become obvious. Furious, she threw herself in front of the girl protectively.
”What do you freaks think you’re doing?!”
She snapped, earning a snicker from the oldest-looking of the trio.
“Oh, are you his girlfriend or something?”
He sneered at her, and she had to hold herself back from slapping him across the face right there and then. She had no clue what was going on, but she wasn’t about to let this stranger get picked on.
”What’s it to you?! Go away!”
She snarled. The one on the left scoffed.
”Battle me and win, then maybe we’ll listen. Doesn’t look like you have a Pokémon, though. What a shame.”
He smirked, and his Pokemon growled at her threateningly. Ena genuinely could’ve sworn she felt her blood boiling. She knew she had no optimal way to defend herself in this situation, but she wasn’t about to retreat and leave this poor girl defenseless. So, she dropped the bag of canvases, took one out, and swung it at the group of bullies.
It made an impact. She had honestly expected them to dodge, but she must have been too fast or something. She doesn’t think much of it, pulling it back to swing it again.
”You bitch!” The oldest cried, now fumbling around on the ground. A small trickle of blood trickled from his nose.
Geez. You lot are a mess.
She prepared to swing it again, but it seemed she didn’t have to. One of the boy’s friends helped him up and they fled the scene, their Pokémon following suit with its tail between its legs.
Ena immediately dropped the canvas to the ground, turning to check on the girl. Now that she looked at her up close, she was dressed kind of like a doll. She was wearing an expensive-looking pink dress that almost perfectly matched the rosy shade of her eyes, covered in lace and ribbons. Her hair was just as pink as it had looked from afar. Her side pieces were curled, and she had a curly ponytail on the side of her head. She also had notable pink eyelashes on each eye, and Ena couldn’t help but wonder if they were natural. Well, in conclusion, she was really pretty. Thankfully, she didn’t look too hurt, other than the only slightly bloody scrape she could see on her knees through her sheer white socks.
She reached a hand out towards her in an offer to help her up. The girl looked up at her like a kicked puppy, taking her hand. She seemed to do it in an almost cautious manner. While she held Ena’s hand in one hand, she held her Pokémon partner with the other. Ena wasn’t well versed in Pokémon at all, but she knew an Eevee when she saw one. They were pretty cute, if she did say so herself.
”Are you okay?” Ena questioned, checking the girl over with her eyes again. There was still a thought in the back of her head nagging her to go home, but it was weaker than the one that told her to always help someone in need.
“Oh, ehe… I’m okay. Just, Eevee…”
For a minute, she was looking at Ena in a way she could only describe as pathetic. Ena stared back at her, blinking rapidly in confusion before she shook her head and came to her senses. Ena looked down at the girl’s Eevee, and it came to her attention that it was unconscious.
”Ah! Uhm— is it okay? What can we do?”
Ena panicked a little. Now was not a good time to have next to zero knowledge on Pokémon. The girl looked a little amused at her outburst, and Ena forced herself to settle down.
“I think she’ll be okay. I should get her to the Pokémon Center, though.” The girl glanced at Ena again, and Ena released her hand and went to cross her arms. What was her deal? She was giving off the impression that she didn’t want to be left alone, and Ena could say she wasn’t surprised, honestly. Things could have ended badly there if she hadn’t shown up. Still, what a pain…
”I’ll walk with you.” She said, unimpressed. Right. She was worried for her wellbeing. It wasn’t just the puppy eyes that were getting to her.
”Hehehe… yay! Thank you, uhm..”
“Ena.” Ena replied for the second time that day.
I’m just making friends left and right.
She thought, a bit surprised at herself. She leaned down, gathering her canvases back into her bag before following the pinkette down the path.
”Akiyama Mizuki. Just call me Mizuki, since you helped me and all. Thank you for that, Enanan~!” Mizuki had a cheerful look on her face, despite the teasing lilt in her tone.
”Ha? What kind of a nickname is that?” Once again, Ena was not impressed. This girl had some nerve, talking to someone she just met like that. She couldn’t say she was uncomfortable with it or anything, it just caught her extremely by surprise.
Mizuki just responded with a joyful giggle, hurrying down the path and leaving Ena to chase after her.