Eterna City was still bustling even in the later hours of the evening. It was a little after seven P.M, and the streets were still filled with trainers and their pokemon going about their business. As Ethan nervously and anxiously speed-walked through the busy streets, nearly every single pokemon out and about twisted and turned their heads to stare in incomprehension towards him. The weird anti-empathy effect he had was letting all of the nearby pokemon know of his worry for Smeargle.

  Jenny led the way after he’d regaled her about what Smeargle’s business had been in the city. Knowing the city much better than he did, she knew the common shopping locations near or around the northern Pokemon Center—where Smeargle would have Teleported too.

  Jessie, James, and Meowth walked by his side. They were eerily focused, and he had the feeling that if they ever got truly serious about something that they’d be a force to be reckoned with. These three weren’t the happy-go-lucky, hooligan, comedy relief like they were in the show. They were die hard criminals who must have seen some shit.

  They walked mostly in silence through the dimly lit streets even though they drew the attention of the majority of those they passed. Luckily, having an officer of the law leading the group quelled any untoward questions or curiosity as to their goal.

  Things were progressing slowly as they (Jennifer) talked to numerous shops and stands, asking questions about Smeargle. It wasn’t until a small pokemon blocked their way that Ethan even remembered that he hadn’t spoken much to help out in the search, too lost in his own worry and melancholy to partake much in the questioning.

  “Fue-fue!!”

  Ethan blinked at the cry then tore his gaze down to… a pokemon he’d never seen before. For the first time since his arrival in the world of pokemon, he’d finally run into a pokemon who he could confidently say he had no clue about.

  The pokemon before their group was only about a foot tall, yet was stout, bright, and jovial. The clashes of yellow, white, red, and orange gave this crocodilian pokemon a unique appearance. Its large mouth was parted slightly, revealing three simple, yet pointed, teeth. One squarely set in the center of its upper mouth, and two small pointy incisors on the bottom.

  The pokemon tilted its head in question at him, obviously feeling something from his weird ability, then spoke once again. “Fue! Fue-fue! Coco-fue! Fuecoco!”

  The (who Ethan assumed to be) Fuecoco stomped and pointed down the street in excitement before waddling off in an awkward run. “fu-fu-fu-fu!”

  Jennifer watched it travel for only a second before turning to Larry, her Espurr. Larry’s eyes flushed with psychic energy for a brief moment before Jennifer nodded with confidence. “We have our first lead. He saw a Smeargle with an orange tail fifteen minutes ago. He's leading the way.”

  The small fire-croc ran in zig-zag lines with its tiny arms flapping at its sides and an upbeat attitude. The pokemon released tiny exasperated huffs of ‘Fue’ as it led the way. When the fire crocodile eventually entered a nearby store, a voice could be heard shouting from within. “Fuecoco! What have I told you about running off like that? You’re going to give me wrinkles!”

  Ethan pushed ahead of Jennifer, James, Jessie, and Meowth to enter inside, eyes scanning with hope for Smeargle. The terrible feeling in his chest had never left, but it also wasn’t growing exponentially anymore.

  The first thing Ethan spotted was an older woman, in her early fifties or late forties, pinching the little Fuecoco’s cheeks. The pokemon squirmed and swatted at the offending fingers, but quickly stopped and pointed with glee once Ethan entered inside. The older woman flicked her eyes to Ethan, judged him for a millisecond, then went back to pinching the poor pokemon’s cheeks. “No customer is saving you today! No siree!”

  When Jennifer entered inside with all of the confidence that her position gave her, the old woman wilted. “Oh, Fue… What did you do?”

  Jennifer took off her police cap and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m Investigator Jenny from the Eterna City Police Department. Your Fuecoco seems to have seen a Smeargle with an orange tail?”

  “He’d come here.” Ethan cut in, eyes scanning the store.

  Easels, paints, brushes, canvas… Colorful smears plastered against the wall in sharp contrast with each other… The smell of rich oil… This was an art store.

  The proprietor of the store ignored Ethan’s idle comment and looked to the Fuecoco with narrowed, suspicious eyes. “They left not too long ago. I will say, they were an awkward group.”

  Jennifer and Ethan both lunged at the reply. “Group?” They asked at the same time.

  The woman nodded as she picked up the Fuecoco to place onto the paint encrusted countertop. The crocodile had been wiggling to climb it. “Yes. The Smeargle and his trainer?”

  Ethan had to factory reset his brain at the whiplash that statement gave him.

  He was Smeargle’s trainer…

  “And can you describe this trainer? Did they give you a name? Were there any other pokemon alongside them?” Jennifer cut to the chase.

  The woman nodded immediately. “A young man, late teens… He looked to be in a slump if I were to judge. Scruffy face—The boy needed to shave… He had a Gardevoir with him too! Very pretty pokemon, that. He wasn’t very well off financially, like most trainers, as he shopped in the bargain bins… Hard to tell you much else… They just came to buy the Smeargle art supplies.”

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  “And did you notice anything off? Did this Smeargle look like it was being coerced into being here or with this trainer?” Jennifer asked as she finished writing down the woman’s details into a small notebook.

  Just then, the Fuecoco jumped up and down and waved a hand held high, eager to be picked out to answer like a child in a classroom. When everyone turned to face the fire-gator, he spewed out a bunch of pokespeak and picked up a nearby brush. With quick and efficient motions, the fire-croc swiftly painted a small, if crude, picture of the man in question, Smeargle, and a Gardevoir… Yet, on the Smeargle, a small purple seal of some kind could be seen on its arm like a tattoo.

  The Fuecoco continued rambling and pointed its stubby hands at the small seal, tapping it rambunctiously.

  “Larry?” Jennifer asked, but before the little purple cat would do anything, Meowth spoke up from behind with his Brooklyn accent, shocking the store owner and aweing the Fuecoco. “This lil’ guy says the Gardevoir was using a move. He tried to ask the Gardevoir to teach him it, as it was pretty perty, but she said no. Seem to him like the Gardevoir and the Smeargle knew each other toos.”

  Knew each other? Ethan thought, as the only person he knew with a Gardevoir came to mind. The very same person who also dumped Smeargle at his ranch all those months ago.

  “Max?” He murmured, in near disbelief.

  Max seemed like a very successful trainer when they’d previously met. He had a nearly full roster of powerful fifth-badge pokemon and was continuing on his journey. Why would he still be in Eterna City? Why was Gardevoir using some move on Smeargle to keep him from teleporting? Imprison, maybe? Why was Max buying Smeargle art supplies? Why—

  “Thank you for your time.” Jennifer’s parting words knocked Ethan out of his spiraling thoughts. He glanced around, still in shock at apparently having missed the end of the conversation. Jennifer nudged him toward the exit, causing him to falter in his late response. Once outside, Jennifer turned back the way they came and walked like she didn’t have a worry in the world.

  “Where are we going? Aren’t we going to ask her more questions?” Ethan practically spat—not in anger, but in sheer befuddlement.

  Jennifer didn’t even slow down as Larry awkwardly clambered up her back to rest on her shoulder. “Hard part is over. Seems like we both know who has your Smeargle. His former trainer, Max Reclant.”

  “And how do you know who Smeargle’s former trainer is?” Ethan asked.

  Jennifer huffed. “I did my research on you. Anyway, now we can just go to the precinct and track him down. Old trainers coming back for their old pokemon is a tale as old as time itself. We’ll have their location within the hour.”

  And find their location they most certainly did. Ethan wasn’t sure if he had to thank Looker or Jenny about how fast their stay at the local Police Department had been, but it was unlikely that every case was processed and sorted out in less than five minutes. Jessie, James, and Meowth didn’t even have to wait outside either, having followed on their heels with only a brief pause of trepidation.

  Within another five minutes, they all stood outside a pretty run-down looking motel. While it wasn’t a terrible place to stay, staying for more than a few days in such a place would have been rough. Max had been staying here for nearly a month after his allocated staying time in the center elapsed.

  As it turns out, Max has been stalled in his gym challenger progression here in the city versus Gardenia ever since he arrived—which was right after he left Smeargle at the ranch. He’d fallen on some hard times as well, judging by this motel.

  Jennifer walked into the wide open lot situated in between the U-shaped building wings and ignored the rough-looking bikers and slimy, greasy low-life’s who watched them like prey. It was obvious at a glance that she was a police officer, and it appeared that many of this establishment’s clientele didn’t appreciate her appearance.

  From the many windows around, each one signifying a room, blinders were pulled down and eyes were peeking out from within. Even pokemon peered outwards in curiosity, but instead of looking at Jennifer, they watched Ethan.

  Jennifer stopped at room number twelve and roughly slammed her fist on the door three times. “Max Reclant. This is Investigator Jennifer Jenny from the Eterna City Police Department.”

  Ethan came forward to stand beside Jennifer, but she held out an arm and held him back. “Let me handle this. You stay there and don’t cause trouble.”

  After a few seconds, the sound of the deadbolt unlocking announced the opening of the door. It only opened a few inches, just enough to peek out through the gap, and one could see that the simple chain lock on the door was still in place. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Reclant, do you mind stepping outside for a moment? I’d like to ask you a few questions.” Jennifer was polite and even had a gentle smile plastered on her face—A complete and total shift from what Ethan had seen from her demeanor just seconds prior.

  Max shifted uneasily, glancing behind himself and into the room. “About what?”

  Still with that easy-going smile, but now with fierce eyes, Jennifer said. “We’ve received a report regarding the possible theft of a pokemon. There’s reason to believe you might have information—or be in the possession of said pokemon.”

  It was at this point that Max must have known that whatever ploy he was up to was over, as the silence after Jennifer’s proclamation lasted far too long to be comfortable.

  “Smear!”

  Jennifer’s eyes glinted with assurance. “Champ, you’re up.”

  With a sudden burst of white, a pokeball on Jennifer’s belt opened with a snapping clack of force. Before Ethan could even make out the pokemon in question, the bi-pedal white and materializing silhouette shoulder charged the door open with ease and blasted its way inside. Jenny swiftly and confidently followed her pokemon through as Ethan stood there in a shocked daze.

  There was only a second of scuffling before the seed of worry in his heart faded—Smeargle sprinted out through the busted door with tears streaming down his face and tail clutched to his chest.

  Without a word, Ethan swooped up his friend and held him dearly to his chest. Smeargle rested his head on Ethan’s shoulder as he hiccupped while crying. “Shh… It’s okay. I’ll always find you.”

  Ethan bounced Smeargle up and down like a child and rubbed his back for comfort as a little white flame of rage began forming in his heart. He walked forward to peek into the room, finding Jennifer on top of an unconscious Max and a hulking Incineroar standing over an unconscious Gardevoir. Incineroar’s entrance through the door toppled Max like a domino, sending him sprawling onto the floor. Larry’s eyes were brightened with psychic energy, holding the remainder of Max’s pokeballs shut.

  “Smear-Smear… Smeargle-gle-gle-e-e-e…” Smeargle sobbed.

  “It’s okay, buddy. It’s all over.” Ethan continued comforting his painter with quiet reassuring words. “You rest now and we’ll sort this all out tomorrow. Do you wanna go into your ball or stay right here with me?”

  The tightening of Smeargle’s arms around his neck was all he needed as a response.

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