Pokemon: The Yellow Guardian

| Penny POV |

The bus ride was long, loud, and smelled vaguely of ketchup. I hated every second of it.

Still, when we finally pulled over by the rocky outcrop, I was the first off. Hoodie up, bag slung over one shoulder, and Flareon practically glued to my side like a living space heater. Umbreon didn't leave my shadow either. Typical.

This beach wasn't on any map I trusted, which was probably why Nemona insisted I had to check it out. "It's perfect," she'd said, practically vibrating. "Hidden, quiet, super pretty! You'll love it!"

I had my doubts. Nemona's idea of quiet usually involved battle cries and explosions.

But as I stepped around the rock wall and the shoreline opened up before me—golden sand, gentle surf, not a soul in sight—I had to admit: she was right.

For about five seconds.

Then I saw them.

A shark fin sliced through the shallow waves, headed straight for a shrieking red blur that I really hoped wasn't actually on fire.

"TRI!!!" the blur screamed, and launched into the air with a burst of steam and panic-flames.

The fin kept going… And then collapsed into shadow. Literally. Just—poof. Gone.

And that's when I noticed the shiny Lucario, almost blending in with the sand.

He was lounging on a sand mound he set up, propped up like he was sunbathing. His own shadow lazily snaked back into position beneath him, stretching like it hadn't just been used as a water-bound monster.

"What the hell," I whispered.

Flareon growled softly. Umbreon stepped half a pace forward.

The Lucario noticed me. "Oh hey," he said, like I hadn't just watched him weaponize his own shadow for fun. "Didn't see you there. Nice hoodie."

I blinked. "Uh. Hi?"

It can talk? Do I run? Do I stay? Is this what a stroke feels like?

"You here for the beach too?" he asked.

"...Sure," I said flatly. "Is that what this is?"

He waved a paw at the scorched water. "Team-building exercise. Also boredom. Sand's too quiet."

A gleam of violet-gold caught my eye. That's when the Kirlia descended.

And I mean descended. Like a tiny, sparkly god of judgement. She floated down with arms crossed, eyes glowing just a little too brightly, and stared at me like she was deciding whether or not to vaporize my soul.

Flareon tensed. Umbreon's rings pulsed once.

I suddenly felt very underleveled.

"We're not doing anything illegal," Lucario added quickly, raising both paws. "This time."

Kirlia narrowed her eyes. That wasn't a denial.

To the side, I spotted a Grovyle... or what I would have imagined a ghost type version of one, perched on a rock, silent and still as a statue. A shadowy Zoroark—or something like it—melted into the shade under a palm tree. And the red blur from before—now somewhat recognizable as a Charmander? A beach loving Charmander of all things—shook water off her body and flopped onto the sand, wheezing.

The whole scene looked like a fever dream. Or the result of bad berry juice.

"Why," I muttered, "do I feel like I just walked into a crossover event?"

Lucario's ears twitched. "Because you did."

I opened my mouth to respond. Nothing came out. I hated that he had a point.

I sighed, adjusted my hoodie, and dropped onto the sand.

"Whatever. I'm too tired for this."

And weirdly?

That was probably the most honest thing I'd said all week.

"So... Why can you talk?"

And he's looking at me like I decided to imitate a Doduo, great, how am I the weird one again?

"All Pokémon can talk."

Is he making fun of me? I feel like he's making fun of me... 

I glance at Umbreon, I watch as it tilts it's head and calls out in the same way it always did.

"Yeah... No, you are definitely making fun of me, you are human, which of your Pokémon are putting this illusion over you?

Lucario blinked.

Once.

Then tilted his head slightly, ears twitching, like I'd just asked him to explain quantum mechanics using sock puppets.

"I mean… technically, I'm not a human," he said, like it was obvious.

That didn't help.

Flareon leaned into my leg. Umbreon stepped closer too, like they could sense my brain buffering.

"...What does that even mean?" I asked.

"It means I'm a Lucario." He shrugged. "With opinions. And vocabulary. And lots of dad jokes."

"You talk," I stressed, "in full, grammatically correct sentences."

"So does your Flareon," he countered. "You just don't speak his dialect."

Okay, now I knew he was screwing with me.

My fingers twitched near my Pokéballs. Not that I was going to throw down here, but still—battle instincts die hard.

"I'm serious," I said. "What illusion is this? Is that Zoroark back there projecting your voice or something? Are you some kind of Ditto experiment?"

"I'm not a Ditto," the Riolu said, looking vaguely insulted. "Gross."

The Kirlia next to him snorted softly, but didn't interrupt.

"I've met my share of anomalies," I muttered. "But you're not even trying to blend in. You're lounging around, causing panic with a shadow shark, and talking like a person."

"Technically, I'm talking like myself." He scratched behind one ear. "Also, that was enrichment for Trishout. She needs a little fear to stay motivated."

The Charmander—Trishout, apparently—gave him a thumbs-up from where she lay facedown in the sand. Smoke still curled lazily from her mouth.

I exhaled slowly. "You're insane."

"Probably," he agreed cheerfully.

Then he grinned at me. Actual teeth. Very pointy. "But you're not running away, so... I'll take that as a compliment."

I hated that he was right. Again.

"So," I said, eyeing the group. "What are you, exactly? A rogue science experiment? A ghost possessing a Lucario? Some weird Ultra Wormhole tourist?"

"Oh, you're close," he said brightly, like this was a trivia game and I'd guessed "Raikou" when the answer was "Entei." "But also not even in the right multiverse."

I stared at him.

He smiled wider.

And then, the Kirlia floated down next to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "He's being dramatic again," she said, voice echoing just faintly in my head.

Telepathy. Great. Add that to the list.

"She does that," Rio said. "Especially when I am being dramatic."

"Which is always," she replied dryly.

He huffed. "I have flair."

"You're a menace."

"You wound me."

I watched their little exchange, and against my better judgment, something about it felt… weirdly normal. The kind of bickering you'd hear between close friends. Or partners. Or survivors.

Suddenly, I wasn't so sure I wanted to know the answer.

"Fine," I muttered, hugging my knees. "Don't tell me."

"Really?" he asked, sounding surprised. "You're just gonna let it go?"

"No," I said. "I'm bottling it up for a breakdown later. Like a normal person."

He looked at me for a second. Then he laughed.

Not mocking. Just… genuinely amused. Warm, even.

"Okay," he said. "That's fair."

"My name is Penny."

"Nice to meet you, Penny. I'm Rio. Very original name, I know..."

He said it like a joke, but there was something odd in the way he looked away after. Not embarrassed—just... distant. Like the name didn't really belong to him, but he wore it anyway.

(To be continued)

Penny is another of my favourite characters, totally not because I too collect Eevee merch...

MC: As long as you don't put your Vaporeon figurine in a jar, we're good.

On an unrelated note, did you know that they started making life sized replicas of a lot of different Pokémon? 

MC: I know what you are....