The healer sighed,

  muttering something too low under his breath for Kenji to hear. The woman

  glanced at the man from the corner of her eye and decided to be the one to

  respond to Kenji's question when the man chose not to respond.

  "Both the

  Pokémon League and the regional government will be responsible for ensuring

  your care and safety while you are in Sinnoh," she informed him.

  "Once you are well enough, should you decide to, the Ranger Union will

  sponsor your challenge of the Sinnoh Pokémon League."

  "Those words

  again," Kenji murmured. "Pokémon {League}? {Ranger Union}?" he

  said slowly, almost as if tasting the letters as they left his mouth.

  "What are they?"

  At his admission of

  ignorance, the two exchanged another long look. Kenji believed that he read a

  note of surprise and disbelief, with worry mixed in from the healer.

  "The Pokémon League," the man started slowly, "Is responsible

  for organizing and certifying {Trainers} in various regions around the world.

  They also ensure that Gym Leaders present an acceptable challenge and run their

  gyms in line with the League rules, though much of the day-to-day operation is

  done according to regional laws and such," he added with a flicking wave

  of his hand.

  As he spoke, his

  eyes searched Kenji's. He stood straighter, with the air of a healer inspecting

  a patient. His eyes continued to stare as the Ranger picked up the explanation.

  "The Ranger

  Union is another global organization dedicated to protecting Pokémon and

  people, their habitats, and ensuring peace," she stated confidently,

  belief infusing her words. She stood straighter, as impossible as it seemed.

  "Trainers violating environmental laws, illegal poaching, and Pokémon

  attacks," her eyes met Kenji's, "All fall under our purview."

  Kenji's mind whirled

  with their explanations. It was the role, and honor, of Warriors to enforce the

  Warlords' laws and protect the people from wandering beasts. No kingdom would

  willingly allow a foreign organization to exert control over their lands. Even

  the idea of it was nauseating, an abandonment of duty in a sense. If their lack

  of recognition at his homeland was not enough, then this, how these regions

  operated, left him sure.

  He was far, far from

  home.

  While his education

  was not the best one could obtain, for that was only for the noble scions and

  Junior Warlords, his parents did not slack in their teachings. If there were

  such organizations, then they would have surely told him as such.

  Either that, or . .

  .

  "No," he

  whispered fiercely, "I will go home," he said with conviction.

  Snapping his head up, he felt his mind steady and his eyes harden. This was

  merely a stumble in his path. He would not allow it to become anything more.

  "This,

  League," he stumbled slightly over the unfamiliar word. "If I

  challenge it, will victory help me?" he demanded fervently.

  The Ranger woman opened her mouth to answer, but healer Moran beat her to it.

  "The International Police, Sinnoh government, and the Ranger Union are committed to finding your home and

  reuniting you with them," he spoke passionately. "That is no small

  thing. Alone perhaps, there may be limits to what they could achieve. Together,

  well, I am sure you will find what you seek", he assured Kenji.

  "Yes, but the

  challenge," Kenji insisted. "If I win, will I be granted a boon or

  some such reward?"

  "In a

  sense," the healer admitted. "You will gain fame, both in the region

  and around the world. More than that, though, is the chance to battle the Elite

  Four and the Champion."

  "Champion,"

  Kenji latched onto the word.

  He was sitting up

  straighter and felt his body tugging at him. It urged sleep and recovery, but

  he had no mind for such timing wasting things.

  "The most

  powerful Trainer in Sinnoh, and one of the strongest in the world," Moran

  told him, a glow entering the man's eyes despite his well-controlled demeanor.

  It was clear to

  Kenji that, no matter what name they went by here, there was always going to be

  a Warlord. A Warrior that stood above all, with bonds that pushed each other

  ever higher. To present himself before one, even challenge them, would

  guarantee his return home. He was sure of it.

  "If that is the

  path I must walk, then so be it," he said aloud, nodding his head.

  Conviction stirred in his chest, rooting itself into the foundations of a plan.

  He could feel his

  bonds stir at the rapid changes in emotion, even at the distance between them.

  It was supportive, believing in Kenji even when he was himself unsure. Battling

  other Warriors, these Trainers, was no sure thing. Blood was sure to flow, though

  he was certain death could not be too prevalent. It was fighting a Warlord that

  had him truly worried.

  As he was now, even

  if he were fully healed, a Warlord could swat him aside and not even realize

  it.

  "Bah," the

  healer said abruptly. "Put it out of your mind for now. There will be no

  battling, Trainer or not, until I say so," he chided. "And that won't

  be until I see you walking out of here on your own two feet, unaided that is,"

  he added sharply, turning his eyes towards the Ranger. A flicker of heat flared

  in them at his words, as if the Warrior might assist Kenji in evading the man.

  The woman blinked in

  surprise at the man's change in attitude, staring at him evenly.

  "You are the

  {doctor}," she said simply.

  "Doctor,"

  Kenji repeated softly, making an effort to remember the word. If he was to take

  on this region and prove his worth as a Warrior, then he would have to expand

  on his understanding of the common language and theirs. Not to mention his glaring

  lack of knowledge regarding this land.

  "That's right," the man beamed, evidently hearing Kenji speak.

  "I'm a healer of humans, with {Nurses} caring for Pokémon. And while you

  are in this building, I'm in charge," he affirmed. "Not the

  International Police, not the Sinnoh police, and not even the Ranger

  Union," he finished with another pointed stare in the red-leathered clad

  Rangers's direction. Though a smile hinted at the corners of his mouth, taking

  the sting out of his words.

  She acquiesced,

  stepping back to give him control of the room. He did so with aplomb, facing

  Kenji fully and taking on his loud, personable demeanor once more.

  "We have a nice

  culture of Pokémon scales ready for you," he began, "To help seal

  your wounds, protect you from infection and hinder scarring. After that, we'll

  move on to some light physical therapy, testing your baselines as we get you up

  moving around."

  The man continued in a deluge, mentioning alchemical concoctions, treatments,

  and times. He struggled to grasp most of the information, let alone understand

  it, until he eventually gave up and let the man speak. The Ranger Warrior was

  of no assistance as she merely stood aside, watching blankly as the

  healer-doctor- spoke.

  Instead, he turned

  his mind inwards, to the links connecting him to his Pokémon. Shamefully, he

  was consumed by the conversation with the region's officials and had little

  attention to pay his bonds. The closest, and most powerful, was close, residing

  in his mother's pendant. The other two were distant, beyond his reach. The

  separation strained at their links, especially the one connecting him and

  Sprout. Flutter was strong enough to maintain it from her end, but the same

  could not be said for the little turtle.

  Shifting

  uncomfortably on the bed, Kenji struggled to reach forwards. His movements

  caused the doctor to break off mid-word, not that Kenji noticed. Instead, he

  was consumed with holding the only memory he had of his home and mother.

  The man stepped

  forward as if to interfere, but was halted by the sea breeze that scented the

  room. In contrast, the opening aura gave Kenji a burst of strength, allowing

  him to touch the sphere with the tips of his fingers. Rolling it towards him,

  he clutched it in his palm and fell back with a pained breath. Cradling it in

  his hands, he felt his eyes grow heavy as he could no longer resist the demands

  of his body. Closing his eyes, he fell into a restful slumber, dreaming of

  memories of a better time.

  If he was disturbed,

  the action did not wake Kenji until the next day. The sun was shining through

  slanted shades, offering light into the room. He first became aware of the

  strange tones and harsh smell of an alchemists' shop.

  Turning his head, he

  wondered why his parents would bring him there. Perhaps he was sick with fever

  again, though he did not feel warm or overly cool.

  Then he remembered.

  Like the coming tide, it washed away his errant thoughts with a weighted chill

  that pooled in his bones.

  Not wanting to open

  his eyes, he clenched them shut.

  If only he kept his

  eyes closed, then everything would turn out fine. It was a cruel lie he told

  himself. He tightened his fist around his mother's necklace and felt his

  painfully dry eyes.

  Kenji was not sure

  how long he held himself like that, blind and unmoving. At the very least, it

  lasted until he heard the squeaking of wheels and the soft thump of feet upon

  the hard floor. Giving himself another heartbeat, he finally opened his eyes when

  he felt someone standing over him.

  One of the healer's

  attendants, identified only by their clothing, stood over him. She was tapping

  at a thin, glowing frame that stood on her rolling cart. When she was done, she

  glanced over and smiled gently at him.

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  "Good

  morning," she said. "Sorry to wake you so early, dear. I just have to

  do a routine check-up and give you your medicine."

  Kenji nodded slowly,

  unsure of how to respond.

  The woman took his

  silence in stride and began to change the bags hanging from his bed and the

  poles beside him.

  "How are you

  feeling today? Any aches, sharp pain, or difficulty breathing?" the

  attendant asked as she moved around.

  "No," he

  said quietly. His skin still tingled, hot and cold, but it was not agonizing or

  overly painful.

  "That's good," she said absently. "Can you tell me your

  name?"

  "Sato

  Kenji," he answered hesitantly, unsure of why she was asking.

  "Excellent. And

  do you know where you are?" she asked, the question sounding rote even

  with the cheer she put into it.

  "A place of

  healing," he told her.

  "Mmmh,"

  she hummed. "Can you tell me the specific location? What city are you

  in?"

  At this, Kenji hesitated, not remembering the name. It was not something he was

  overly focused on at the time and it slipped away.

  "I can't remember," he admitted.

  "That's

  alright," she said gently, focusing on him instead of moving around.

  "I'm just going to check your vision now. Please look straight

  ahead," the attendant instructed as she waved a metal tube of light in his

  eyes.

  He kept himself from

  automatically blinking, and rubbed lightly at his eyes when she removed the

  light.

  "Can you tell

  me how old you are?" she asked.

  Kenji frowned as her

  questions became more personal, but a glance at the Ranger helped to reassure

  him. The Warrior was merely watching with a placid expression, her bond lazing

  next to her in the heat of the sun. She noticed and nodded at him.

  "The {nurse} is

  asking questions to ensure that you are mentally well," she informed him.

  Understanding dawned

  in his eyes, and Kenji became more cooperative.

  "15

  years," he told her, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. Having

  recently come of age, he was granted a new name more befitting his potential as

  a Warrior.

  "Good,"

  she said with satisfaction. "As for the city, you are in Canalave City.

  More specifically, Canalave Hospital."

  "Canalave," he muttered, repeating the unfamiliar words.

  "Hospatal."

  "Hospital,"

  she corrected gently. "A place of healing, as you put it."

  "Gratitude,"

  Kenji said as he nodded his thanks.

  "Of

  course," she beamed. "Now, do you have any preferences for breakfast?

  Eggs, oats, fruit?" she offered. "It looks like the doctors haven't

  put you down for any dietary restrictions."

  "Oats and

  fruit, please," he told her with another tilt of his head.

  The food was

  delivered promptly, surprising Kenji with its speed. The staff were kind enough

  to deliver a tray to the Ranger as well, who dutifully consumed it with her

  bond's help. The bird appeared to enjoy snatching up a piece from the hard

  plates when the woman was not looking.

  He smiled at the

  simple action, a pang in his chest felt as he remembered his father's own bond.

  The Leavanny enjoyed sneaking up on others, and discreetly placing decorations

  around the house. It was a game his father played with the beast, sometimes weeks

  passing without incident only for the bug to spring a trick on him.

  Sighing, Kenji

  finished his own breakfast and leaned back. With little to occupy his mind, he

  attempted some of the exercises that he remembered the staff pushing him

  through. They were careful not to push him further than they thought he could

  handle, but Kenji was far more aware of his own body.

  The simple exercises

  of folding and twisting his limbs stretched his skin and the muscles

  underneath. Both were painfully tight, the skin more so than the wiry flesh

  underneath. As a result, it was incredibly uncomfortable, quickly rising in

  pain as the exercises continued. Only at a word from the Ranger did Kenji

  realize that his face was twisted into a grimace.

  Falling back to the

  bed with a grunt, he panted lightly from the exertion. The room felt a lot

  warmer as well, but not nearly enough to make him sweat it seemed. He dozed

  fitfully, waking when Doctor Moran strode into the room with a loud

  exclamation.

  "Another fine

  morning," he greeted the two as he entered. "How is my favorite

  patient feeling today?" he asked with bright eyes as he looked Kenji over.

  "Hot,"

  Kenji said in answering, only a small note of complaint entering his voice.

  "And bored," he added sullenly.

  The man's eyes

  narrowed, moving closer to inspect Kenji's exposed skin. He glanced over to the

  Ranger, a silent question on his face from a lifted brow.

  "He was

  exercising his limbs," she explained simply.

  "Ahh," the

  man breathed as he turned back to Kenji, before shaking his head. "You

  will need to be careful of that," he warned. "Your skin is unable to

  {perspire}, or sweat. As such, your body is badly reduced in its ability to regulate

  your temperature. Wait until physical therapy before you start exercising on

  your own. They'll instruct you on what to watch out for, and how to go about it

  safely."

  Kenji nodded with a

  sigh. It really was boring without anything to do. Most of the words written

  around the room and in the few books he saw were entirely illegible, being in a

  different language.

  "As for

  boredom, how about some {T.V.}," he offered, grabbing a hard piece of

  conformed material from Kenji's bedside. Pressing the lifted surface, a thin

  box on the wall lit up and began to blast images and sound.

  Jerking in reaction,

  Kenji stared open mouthed at the glowing box. It was flat like a window and

  thicker than a shutter. He previously dismissed it from his mind, merely

  thinking it some strange piece of art from this region. Now instead, it became

  a window. Only, one that did not view outside. People and beasts moved about

  inside, all while emitting a voice that spoke in the region's language.

  "Never seen a

  television before, I'm assuming," The man grinned at Kenji's reaction.

  "No worries," he chuckled when Kenji turned his eyes towards him.

  "There are plenty of homes that still don't. Especially in regions that

  hold on tightly to the old ways or forgo more advanced technology."

  Doctor Moran

  proceeded to explain the device to Kenji, along with various uses for it. He

  showed him how to operate the controller, changing between channels and scenes.

  With his help, and the Ranger's short suggestions, they quickly found a channel

  in the common tongue. It was some form of documentary about Pokémon. Currently

  it was following the life of some strange bird, with a mane of feathers and

  colorful wings.

  Kenji was engrossed

  with the show, watching it attentively while the Ranger's beast huffed noisily.

  At first, he was wary of the creature, but with a small eye roll from the

  Warrior, he found the courage to ignore it. He guessed that the Pokémon was

  critical, or perhaps jealous, of the scenes being shown.

  The remote remained

  untouched, mainly due to his confusion regarding its operation, but also

  because he found himself heavily invested in the television channel. He was

  interrupted before the midday meal by the appearance of a regional official,

  one wholly dissimilar to the others that came before.

  The woman entered

  with a knock and a respectful nod to the Ranger before her attention turned to

  Kenji. She was dressed simply, with muted colors and efficient clothes. Her

  decorated blouse was decorated and shimmered slightly in the light as she

  moved, billowing around her. A heavy looking bag was carried in her arms, one

  that she held onto as she introduced herself.

  "Good

  morning," she said to Sherry and him. "I'm Patricia Hout, with social

  services."

  "Ranger

  Sherry," the Warrior said as she nodded once.

  The two then looked

  at him and he tore his lingering gaze from the television to greet her.

  "Sato Kenji," he told her. Then what she said registered.

  "Social services?" he asked, recognizing the words as the ones

  mentioned by the officers.

  "That's

  right," she nodded in agreement. "I'm here to help ensure that you

  are adequately cared for and set you up with living arrangements for after you

  leave the hospital."

  "Oh," he

  said somewhat dumbly. "But I plan on returning home," he pointed out.

  "Yes," she

  said gently. "However, until then, you need somewhere to live, with some

  manner of providing for yourself."

  Kenji nodded

  hesitantly, agreeing with her words. This region's manner of caring for

  complete strangers was still odd, but he was in no position to refuse. There

  was a sense of inevitability to what was being done, as though it would be

  enacted one way or another.

  "To begin with,

  unless the Ranger Union is claiming guardianship," her gentle eyes turned

  towards Sherry, "with you as their representative, I am afraid that I will

  have to ask you to leave," the woman told the Ranger in a calm tone.

  "The Ranger

  Union is sponsoring him, should he pursue the gym circuit," she told the

  official. "Also, he is part of an active investigation, with an unruly

  Ghost-Pokémon that refuses to leave his side," she added.

  "Very

  well," Patricia Hout said slowly. "I may ask you to step outside for

  a moment when it comes to discussing more sensitive matters."

  "Understood,"

  Sherry said brusquely before stepping back against the wall so as to be

  unobtrusive.

  "To begin, I

  will have some papers to fill," Saying so, she pulled a folder out of her

  bag and sat it on the rolling table that was next to his bed. "They are

  all in Eigo1, as I am told that you

  do not understand or speak Nihongo2.

  I can fill them out for you, but I am afraid that I will need your signature

  indicating that the information is correct. I will be your guardian signer,

  until another is appointed to you, with Ranger Sherry signing as a witness when

  necessary."

  Kenji stared at the

  stack of papers in disbelief. Each letter was written perfectly, with straight

  lines, boxes, and more. It was impossible for any human or beast to write such

  a thing, at least not if they were to be used so frivolously.

  With the official's

  help, they carefully filled out the pile of paperwork. His name, believed age,

  rough date of birth, hometown, home kingdom, and more were dutifully written

  down. He checked, double checked, and triple checked his answers, as did the regional

  official Hout.

  They took a short

  break for the midday meal, and the two of them spoke companionably for a time.

  She explained more of what to expect in the near future, largely a focus on his

  recovery and potential living arrangements. He was amazed that he was offered a

  type of assisted living, where a healer's attendant-nurse, as they were

  called-would be on hand until he was deemed self-sufficient. Medically

  speaking, that was.

  Kenji hoped that

  such a step would not be necessary, as it both sounded awkward and a waste of

  valuable resources.

  They quickly moved

  on, slowly fighting their way through the paperwork. At one point, Sherry was

  asked to leave the room and the woman spoke more plainly.

  "I understand

  that you are part of an active investigation, but in Sinnoh, and most of the

  world, you still have rights," she told him. "If at any moment, you

  feel pressured, threatened, or uncomfortable in any way, simply tell them that

  you would like to talk to your representative." She then pulled out a card

  and placed it on his table. "Even if you just want to talk or have a

  simple question, do not hesitate to reach out."

  "You are safe

  here. One way or another, we will find your family and get you home," she

  told him emphatically. Her eyes stared into Kenji's urging him to believe her,

  allowing him to see her conviction and belief in what she said.

  Kenji stopped at her

  words. The entire process, filling out forms, answering questions, and signing

  his name, was unreal. It was rote, automatic, something for him to do. Ever

  since he woke-

  No, long before that

  even. When his home burned and he was taken. Waking in a forest, far from

  civilization and knowing that there was no one to rescue him. Struggling to

  survive, foraging for food and counting his meals to ensure that he had enough

  for the next day. Hunted and chased through the forest. Then waking in a plain

  room and being bombarded with questions, exams, and unfamiliar sights.

  His vision blurred

  and his throat closed involuntarily.

  His shoulders were always hunched, seeking to avoid notice. His muscles tight,

  ready to run at a moments' notice, burned limbs or not. Wondering how much of

  his meal he should save for later, just in case they ran out or decided to stop

  feeding him. Fearing that they were going to take away his bonds, never

  returning them. Terrified that they would find out he was a Warrior, and what

  they might do.

  Never once did he

  feel safe.

  Yet now, this woman,

  this stranger from an unfamiliar land, was telling him that he was. She was no

  Warrior, no powerful bond holder of beasts. Just a simple woman doing her job.

  He did not feel her

  wrap her arms around him. Only felt the comfort of someone close. He did not

  have the strength to clutch her tighter, so he was forced to simply lean into

  her as the tears fell.

  Kenji did not wail

  or scream out against the world. Nor did he fold in upon himself, becoming a

  husk of a person.

  He simply cried.

  2. Nihongo. Official name for the language spoken by the Kanto, Johto, and Sinnoh regions. Each has their own dialect, but the same letters. [Official

  name for the language of Japan.]