We should’ve reached Viridian City by the end of the day. Instead, here I was, setting up camp on an empty stomach after lunch had come back out the wrong way around. Call it being squeamish; I called it nerves.
I’d readily admit it: I wasn’t ready for the real thing. But that was life, I realised. You could never be ready for everything. Still, I felt terrible, and Maple seemed to sense it. She gave me space, but kept a watchful eye on me from a distance.
I didn’t blame her. I couldn’t possibly. It was in her nature, and I knew that very well. I loved the Fennekin line. I loved the Vulpix line even more—that was the entire reason I’d worked to start my journey in Kanto, the species’ homeland, after all—and I knew that they, too, were Fox Pokémon. I would inevitably need to steel myself for it. In the end, wild Pokémon were part of the food chain. How hypocritical would it be to refuse to let my Pokémon follow their instincts when I ate Slowpoke tail soup as a seasonal treat?
I shuddered at that realisation. Maybe vegetarianism wasn’t such a bad option after all. But didn’t we eat Grass types, too?
“Argh!” I groaned, holding my head. I needed to think about something else. Anything else…
My eyes drifted towards my bag. I hadn’t… not in the few days since Saffron. I’d been too focused on my exam and the start of my journey.
I decided I’d freshen up before retiring to my tent. I stood up and hurried inside to change into a light nightdress, then returned and made my way to the nearby creek. The water was uncomfortably cold, much to my dismay, but I supposed it helped clear my head.
Afterwards, I retreated to my tent, ready to… tuck in for the night.
Maple came in with me, too. She would wake me if she heard anything unusual, which was reassuring. What I hadn’t expected, though, was how quickly a Fire type’s simple presence would heat up my one-person tent. I decided not to let it bother me and settled on sleeping on top of my sleeping bag instead. If I was planning on becoming a Fire type specialist, I couldn’t let something as trivial as a little warmth get to me. I’d grow used to it, I decreed. Besides, it’d be amazing for travelling in winter.
Once I was comfortable, I hesitantly reached for my bag. My hand had barely reached the front pocket when I felt a familiar warmth rising between my legs. I pressed my other hand against my panties and felt a slight dampness forming, while the pressure itself made my hips buck ever so slightly.
I took a small, steadying breath before opening the bag and retrieving the… memento of my encounter with Charlotte.
I slowly and delicately unfolded the little bundle with one hand, the other still resting between my thighs. The anticipation was rising within me, and I couldn’t control it.
Maple looked at me curiously as I pressed one of Charlotte’s socks to my nose. She approached and sniffed the other one herself before turning away with a judgemental glare and moving to the other end of my small tent. It was comical, really, but my mind was already too far gone for me to react to her disapproval, let alone worry about what she thought of me.
With each breath, each memory of Charlotte’s eyes, her voice, her orders, my hips moved, pressing my lower body against my hand. Every movement brought a shudder and a wave of pleasure. It was dirty, I knew, but I eventually slipped my hand into my panties, my face no doubt burning red with shame.
I pressed my fingers against the spot that sent shivers through my body and realised I was wet, though it was too… slick to be sweat.
Curiosity won out over embarrassment. I explored the dampness with my fingers, sliding them between the folds of my skin. Each movement and caress brought a new set of amazing sensations. I tried to make sense of what I was feeling, to understand why something so simple could affect me so profoundly, but every attempt at rational thought seemed to dissolve the moment I touched myself again.
With each new sensation, I grew wetter, and with each shudder, I inhaled more deeply. A haze was coming over my mind, quieting the incessant voices of my fears and worries, my anxieties and regrets.
When my fingers, slick with my wetness, moved back up to the spot that felt best, still nestled between my folds, the sensation that greeted me was so intense it was almost painful. Every muscle in my body contracted and pulsed as I touched myself there. I continued, again and again, incapable of holding back the moans building in my throat.
My fingers moved quicker, caressing that little spot up and down, then in circles, and then again. It wasn’t enough. It felt as though I couldn’t move fast enough or in quite the right way, as though my body knew something my mind hadn’t yet figured out.
For the second time, a wave crashed over me, washing everything away in a haze of shudders, moans and blankness. It left nothing behind but a peaceful emptiness as I lay there, exhausted and panting.
─── ◓ ───
I woke to the sounds of nature the following morning. Cracking my eyes open slowly, I noticed Maple sitting at the end of the tent, waiting for me to open it. She looked rather impatient, too.
That was when I realised what the inside of the tent smelled like.
It wasn’t… Charlotte. It was a new smell. It belonged to me, I was sure of that much. My instincts told me so. But I’d never smelled it before: warm, soft, musky, with a hint of spiciness, like cinnamon. Whereas the morning air outside smelled light and refreshing, the air inside the tent carried a heavier, more intimate scent. Comforting, in a way, though not exactly pleasant.
I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
Well, ignoring the fact that it was on my fingers instead.
Jokes aside, I hurriedly unzipped the tent to let Maple out after catching her increasingly grumpy expression.
The reason for it dawned on me, and I blushed with embarrassment. Oh no. This was not a discreet smell at all. What if someone else noticed it? Would they know what I’d done? Would they know it came from… there?
Oh, Arceus…
I spotted the socks and realised that my own scent had overpowered theirs. I’d already noticed the previous night that they were slowly losing their fragrance, but still…
I looked down at my hand. No, I wasn’t going to risk it. I rushed out of the tent to wash my hands in the creek before folding the socks back into a tight little bundle and storing them away.
The thought of no longer having them made me feel conflicted. I was still convinced it wasn’t about the socks themselves or their smell, but the memento they represented: a reminder of my experience with Charlotte. I could only hope I’d meet her again someday.
Yet I knew I wouldn’t be able to face her if I did.
Feeling as useless as ever, I hurriedly packed up our camp after sharing a quick meal with Maple so that we could finally reach Viridian City. We arrived a mere hour or two later.
To my surprise, the Pokémon Centre had already been fully repaired. The Kantonians were certainly efficient, I thought. Unlike those damn Kalosians, who seemed to go on strike every other day for no good reason…
Anyway, after checking in with Nurse Joy, I found a quiet spot and propped up my phone for a video call with Mum, who picked up faster than a Snorlax falls asleep. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
“There’s my lovely little girl!” she exclaimed. “How has Kanto been treating you, love?”
My mother was a beautiful lady, if I did say so myself. She was my complete opposite in almost every way. Tall, gorgeous in that mature sort of way, voluptuous, outgoing, a social butterfly beloved by nearly everyone she met. Her skin was tanned enough to put Alolans to shame, her hair blacker than a Drifloon’s non-existent soul, and her eyes so piercing she could make me feel naked just by looking at me. That last trait had proved particularly effective at making me confess whenever I’d lied as a child, incidentally…
And then there was me.
Tiny, underdeveloped, with hair and skin as white as snow, pale pinkish-red eyes and crippling social anxiety. The weird albino little girl, as I’d been described so many times. Sometimes, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering whether I’d been adopted…
“I-it’s been okay, M-Mum,” I answered, too quietly for her to hear.
She knew me well enough not to push, though, and had got used to reading my lips to compensate when necessary. Whatever anyone might have held against my mother, nobody could ever say she wasn’t a devoted parent.
“I-I wanted to intro-introduce you to Maple.”
On cue, the little cutie jumped onto my lap and looked into the camera. She’d been camera-shy only the day before, and now she was joining a video call? Then again, I supposed she understood that this was my mum.
“Oh my, how adorable! You two match each other just perfectly!” Mum exclaimed, practically squealing. She clasped her cheeks in her hands, as though she couldn’t resist the urge to squeeze something at the sight of us. “Her little white face matches your hair, sweetie, and her eyes and ear fluff match yours! Well, close enough, anyway.” She waved dismissively. “One cutie for another. I can already see the two of you melting hearts all over the place on that side of the world!”
“M-Mum, y-you’re embarrassing me. You’re exaggerating again,” I protested weakly, blushing furiously.
I told myself she was only complimenting me to make me feel better. Who would find the weird, all-white, gangly kid beautiful, anyway?
But Mum was looking at me with such unreserved affection that I struggled to maintain the thought. She didn’t look as though she were trying to reassure me or searching for something nice to say. She looked as though the answer were so obvious that she couldn’t understand why I’d ever question it.
That made it both wonderful and terribly embarrassing.
“Nonsense! You’re beautiful, daughter mine. Own it!” she declared confidently.
Just then, a Fletchling landed on her shoulder and peered at the screen before singing happily.
“Ah, he’s been a bit out of sorts ever since you left, love. The others have been doing fine, but he misses you,” she explained, gently scratching the Pokémon’s tiny head. “I’d like to make you an offer, sweetie.”
I tilted my head in silent question, slightly surprised by her sudden change of subject.
“I propose a Pokémon trade. I want you to send me your first ever catch, and I’ll send little Fletchling over to you. I simply must cherish my lovely daughter’s first success!”