Broken Souls

Flying Feathers

I spend the rest of the day after training pinning down the one restaurant in Violety City that isn't 'vintage' or ethnic and has some terrible junk food that I can consume (although it is still painted that muted red color). We celebrate that night with breakfast for dinner, although no one is really that hungry. If nothing else, I at least get to eat some pancakes and I don't have to shell

"Do you think it's safe to feed Pokemon human food?" asks Clay, prodding the pancake which squishes and oozes syrup beneath his giant stone thumb.

"It definitely was beforehand. I'm sure there are some things you guys can't eat, but if it makes you feel better, these pancakes share more in common with your Pokemon food than I don't know, fruit or something. They probably make these in factories somewhere." I say, taking another bite.

"Thaaaaat's disgusting. I think I just lost my appetite." Reginae says, pushing the kid's meal away from him.

"You're a plant. You don't have an appetite." states D'spinas.

"I'll take the kid's meal." Chiaroscuro says, scurrying onto the table and grabbing the truly appetizing fries and waffle (the most classic of cheap-as-possible combinations).

I take another bite of the pancake, savoring the flavor of the syrup on my tongue. I'm interrupted by a single tap on the shoulder. "Miss?" One of the workers says, her eyes narrowed in classic you-know-what-you-did style.

I swallow the last of my pancake. "Is there a problem?" I ask.

"We have a policy against rowdy Pokemon here." she says as kindly as possible. I search my team for suspicious activity, but everyone seems relatively innocent (although Sunny looks mortified).

"They're behaving." I say nonchalantly.

"There is a rat on the table." Her tone is unamused. I gently take Chiaroscuro off the table and place him next to me.

When she doesn't leave, I state, "I'd like to talk to your manager about this."

She looks down at her badge and back at me. "I am the manager."

"Oh."

***

"I still can't believe they kicked us out." I fume. "Honestly, they probably have hundreds of Rattatas living in there anyways."

"I can confirm that. My uncle moved in recently and he's had nothing but good things to say." Chiaroscuro announces, tail curling.

"Outside of that, heaven knows how many Pokemon work at fast food kitchens anyways." I continue.

"How would you know?" asks D'spinas.

"How do you think I live off a Pokemon Trainer's budget and afford food for all of you? I burn everything off by walking everywhere, so I basically just eat whatever I want." I shrug. "I come to these places all the time. I've definitely caught glances of Pokemon working back there."

"This is why they're considering bumping the acceptable age to become a trainer up," Clay says.

"Ouch." I mutter.

"Maybe you should be in charge of budgeting." Ten chirps.

"Alright, we eat Pokemon food and you buy legitimate food. That's how it's supposed to work." Clay replies.

"That stuff is despicable!" I say, "Come on, that would be treating you like pets!"

"As opposed to tools?"

I swear silently under my breath. At least we're close to the Pokemon Center now and I don't have to deal with this anymore.

When we reach it, I notice a new patch of upturned dirt. There's a few cut flowers draped across it, the weedy white kind that work their way around recreational centers and the like. Still, it's obvious that it's not just the result of someone's Poochyena digging around.