Booker’s Journal
or, My Time at Capim
A Clover Guild Anthology
By Ribombee-anon
Introduction
My name is Booker—once a human, now a Ribombee.
Recently, I awoke from uneasy dreams to find myself transformed into an adorable insect. Not only that, I had somehow been transported to a place I once thought was only a work of fiction: the world of Pokemon Mystery Dungeon. At first, it was a frightening situation, but things improved when I met a certain Sneasel. Although she was rather brash and headstrong, we quickly became best friends and partners due to our shared interest in getting stronger.
After traversing a forest full of feral monsters, we set out to the town of Capim. There, we unexpectedly meet a large group of other humans who had also been brought here and transformed into various Pokemon creatures, just like me. We quickly decided to form a group called the Clover Guild to stick together, support one another, and make a living by doing good deeds in this new world. Along the way, we also hoped to learn why we all came here in the first place.
At the time I’m writing this, I’ve been with the Clover Guild for about three months. Every day here has been exciting. Being a timid introvert, that isn’t exactly to my liking. But to my surprise, I’ve found that I don’t mind it. I’m definitely having more fun here than I ever did on Earth, and making more friends than I had as a human. And even though I dearly miss my family, along with many of the conveniences of modern human civilization, I’m still enjoying this new and unexpected phase of my life.
To commemorate all this, and make sure nothing is forgotten, I decided to start writing about my everyday life. I’ve already written several larger accounts of more important events, like when I first met Sneasel, when I tried to build a slingshot, or when I set out on a quest to learn to fly with my new wings. But I feel like some other incidents, despite being less significant than the rest, still deserve a mention. I’ll attempt to write these in order, as they happen, but I may add new entries out of order if I remember something from an earlier date that I missed. Either way, I’ll try to be as accurate as possible in recounting things.
So, without further ado... I present this work-in-progress anthology of short stories to anyone who’s able to read my tiny handwriting. Whether you’re a human like me, or a native Pokemon like Sneasel, I hope you enjoy reading about the assorted things that have happened to me during my time at Capim.
* * *
Cotton
(Published 7-15-23)*
The Clover Guildhall had a storeroom, and it was a mess. My partner Sneasel and I examined the chaos of random items strewn about and piled everywhere, sometimes reaching even higher than where I sat on Sneasel’s head. Neither of us had the slightest idea how it got so bad after only a few days of having a guildhall. We were equal parts impressed and annoyed.
“Um... should we try to clean it?” I asked timidly.
“Nope,” Sneasel said. “None of this is mine. I’m not cleaning up everyone else’s crud.”
“Well, we’ve got to do something about this. How is anyone supposed to find what they need if it’s so messy?”
Before Sneasel could reply, her ear suddenly twitched. She turned towards one end of the storeroom and said, “Someone’s coming.”
“Adding more junk to the junkyard?” I muttered.
I followed her gaze. The room was large, taking up most of the Clover Guild’s basement. One side had a large doorway leading to a ramp that directly connected the storeroom to ground level, letting deliveries arrive without needing to come down the central staircase. That door was open now, and we saw one of our guildmates, a kind yet somewhat nervous Chespin, coming down the ramp. He was toting a large burlap sack with his vines. We couldn’t see what was inside, but it seemed lightweight judging by how he held it.
“Hey, Chespin,” Sneasel said. “Whatcha got there?”
“Oh, hi, Sneasel,” Chespin said. Then he noticed the Ribombee on her head, and greeted me too: “And hi, Booker! Wooper and I just finished a quest. We got some really cool stuff in these bags!”
“Bags?” I asked. “Plural? Um... how many?”
Chespin paused. I saw him look up at nothing, and his lips moved wordlessly. He was counting in his head. Finally, he shrugged and said, “I dunno. So many, I lost count.”
My heart sank. “A-are you gonna put it all in here? I don’t know if you noticed, but—”
“Yeah, I know,” Chespin said. He rubbed the back of his head and glanced around the messy room. “Don’t worry. We’re just putting this stuff in the storeroom for a little bit, before it can get distributed out to all the guildmates.”
“You’re giving it away? Oh, th-that’s nice! Very generous of you. But, uh... what is it, anyway?”
“Yeah,” said Sneasel, “you still haven’t told us what’s in the bag.”
“Oh, right—sorry!” Chespin said. He plopped the sack on the ground in front of me and Sneasel. He opened it and revealed the contents, announcing, “Whimsicott cotton! Beautiful, soft, cozy, cuddly cotton!”
Just as Chespin said, the bag was completely stuffed full of fluffy white cotton, to the point where it looked exactly like it contained a cloud. It seemed softer and more luxurious than any cotton I’d ever seen before. I had to resist the urge to dive right in.
“Meh,” Sneasel said with shrug.
Chespin’s face fell immediately. “W-what? You don’t like it?”
“I don’t like soft things,” Sneasel said. “Just not my style.”
“But... I was hoping we could all use this to replace that dumb hay we all have to sleep on. Aren’t you sick of sleeping on that hay?” Under his breath, he added, “I know I am.”
Sneasel shrugged again. “Hey, I’ve slept on rocks plenty of times before. Compared to that, hay beds are just fine. I know hay ain’t the coziest kinda bed, but I don’t mind roughing it.”
I leaned forward and smiled down at Chespin. “Well, even if Sneasel is being a bit of a sourpuss—”
“I’m not a sourpuss,” she snapped.
“...I-I’m sure everyone else will love the cotton,” I continued. “Thanks, Chespin.”
“You’re welcome!” he replied. He seemed to be perking up again. “Hey, Booker, do you want some of this? I can drop some off at your dorm right now.”
“Thank you, but... I’m good,” I said. “I’ve already got some, actually.”
“Huh? Did Wooper give you some? I thought I was ahead of him—did he get to the guildhall before me?”
“No, th-that’s not what I meant... Actually, wanna visit our dorm? I can just show you what I mean, if you’re okay with that.”
“Okay, sure. And I’ll bring the bag too, in case Sneasel changes her mind.”
“I won’t,” she said. “But I won’t stop you either.”
Chespin grabbed his cotton bag again and hoisted it over his head. He prepared to follow Sneasel as she led the way to our dorm, but a sudden voice stopped us. We looked back to the ramp and saw a Wooper skipping into the storeroom. He was carrying another bag on his back, using his tail to help keep it stable. He looked at us with a big smile—his default expression, as far as I could tell.
“Hey, guys!” he said. “Chespin, where are you taking that bag? You said we’d drop it off here in the storeroom, silly!”
“I was gonna drop it off at their dorm,” Chespin said, gesturing at me and my partner, “and maybe chat with them a bit.”
“Alright,” Wooper said as he dropped his bag on the floor. “Sounds good! But don’t take too long. We’ve got lots more bags to deliver!”
Displaying boundless energy, Wooper turned and hurried up the ramp again.
“Um... this all sounds like a lot of work,” I said to Chespin. “Do you two need any help?”
“No, we’re good,” Chespin replied. “I don’t want to bother anyone. I know everyone else is busy with their own stuff. Well, when they’re not quoting memes, that is.”
I laughed. “Yeah, true.”
“Y’know,” Sneasel said, “you still never told me what a ‘meme’ is, Booker.”
Chespin and I glanced at each other. I said, “Uh... it’s p-probably better that you don’t know, Sneasel.”
We climbed the spiral staircase at the center of the guildhall. At the second story, we entered a hallway and made it to our dorm. Even though Sneasel and I shared it, it was actually one of the guildhall’s smaller dorms, intended for one occupant. This was because I barely took up any space, so a larger dorm would be unnecessary. The room was square and sparsely furnished, containing only a hay bed, a low desk with a floor cushion for a seat, a small wardrobe, and a two-tier bookshelf full of books and some knickknacks owned by Sneasel.
Chespin looked around. “I’ve never visited your dorm before, have I?”
“I don’t think so,” I said, “but that’s okay. There’s not much to see. The only important thing right now is what’s on the desk. That’s what I meant when I said I’ve got my own cotton.”
Chespin went over and gasped. On the desk, off to one side, was a low wide earthenware bowl completely filled with cotton balls.
“Is this... a tiny bed?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s where I sleep.”
Chespin grinned and gently smooshed the cotton balls with his paw. “This is so comfy! You’ve been sleeping in here all this time? Man, I’m jealous—this is way better than hay! How long have you had this?
“Since the day after the Gathering,” I replied. “This is... a-actually my third bed, though. The first two attempts, uh... they weren’t as good.”
“Really? Did you try sleeping on hay like everyone else?”
I shook my head, and tried my best to briefly summarize my experiences ever since being transformed and transported to this world of Pokemon.
I told him how I arrived in the mystery dungeon Oran Forest, where I met and partnered with Sneasel. It was dusk by the time we left the woods, and we started going towards Capim Town, where Sneasel lived. Before long, we had to stop and sleep for the night. To add some extra protection and stealth against roving bandits or ferals, we went up a tree and slept in the branches.
It was there that I learned branches were terrible beds: cold, hard, and with a constant risk of rolling off and falling to the ground. That poor excuse for a bed made it hard to sleep, and the problem was only exacerbated by my anxiety. My heart refused to relax all night long, and my mind was constantly overflowing with thoughts and fears about what the future would bring. I always liked routines—and waking up in a bizarre new body, in a whole new world, was easily the biggest upset to any routine ever. My only comfort was that I had Sneasel with me. I knew that if I had a friend, things wouldn’t be so bad.
I still barely got a wink of sleep, though.
“He was cranky all morning after that,” Sneasel said, interrupting my story.
“I don’t blame you, Booker,” Chespin said. “I hate it when I don’t get a good night’s sleep. That’s why I went to look for this cotton. I needed something better than hay to sleep on.”
I nodded and resumed my story. “So... that was my first night, and my first bed. The next day, we finally got to Capim. Sneasel showed me her apartment when we arrived. Then she showed me around some parts of town too. And that evening was the big event.”
“Oh, right—the Gathering.”
“Yeah. You were there too, so you know how we all met each other and stayed up late chatting. It was after midnight when Sneasel and I finally got back to her apartment. She didn’t have a spare bed for me, so she piled up some spare cloth on her desk, so I could at least have something a little soft to sleep on.”
“So that was your second bed?”
I nodded. “It was definitely better than a branch, but... well, i-it wasn’t too comfy. I still barely got any sleep. Also, I was too excited about finding so many other humans, and founding this guild. And I still hadn’t gotten used to the whole... y’know, the whole isekai thing. So that was still messing with me too.”
“I’m not really used to all this either,” Chespin said. He extended a vine and waved it around. “It still feels weird to use my vines.”
“Sorry to hear that. Hopefully we’ll all get used to our bodies soon. Anyway, after two sleepless nights, I was super drowsy the next morning. Sneasel still wanted to show me the rest of the town, though. Along the way, I’m pretty sure I dozed off a couple times, and I almost fell off Sneasel’s head once or twice. Eventually, we got to the general store. Sneasel started talking with the merchant. I was ready to fall asleep again. And then I saw the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.”
“What?”
I jumped off Sneasel’s head and used my wings to float softly down to the desk. I tapped the bowl of cotton balls and smiled at Chespin. “This,” I said. “A big bowl of the softest, comfiest cotton balls ever. It was like they were calling my name. So I dove off Sneasel’s head, landed in the cotton, and—bam—I fell right asleep.”
“He was sleeping like a log,” Sneasel said.
“I was, until you woke me up by laughing at me and poking me with a claw,” I said. “I would’ve been embarrassed, or upset, if I wasn’t so darn tired. Anyway, we decided to buy the whole bowl, with all the cotton in it, and... well, that became my bed from then on. And we brought it with us to the dorm when we moved out of her apartment. So... that’s the whole story.”
Chespin looked at the bowl of cotton. “How does it feel to sleep on it?” he asked.
“Amazing,” I replied. I hopped into the bowl and sank partway into the cotton. I shut my eyes and let out a sigh as I nestled in deeper. “This is even better than any bed I had when I was a human. And now that you and Wooper brought back so much more cotton, everyone else can have a bed as comfy as this! I’m sure everyone’s gonna love that.”
Fighting back the urge to doze off, I opened my eyes and sat upright. Sneasel was staring at me, but she looked away as soon as I noticed her.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I’m not jealous!” she yelled. “Who said I was jealous?”
Chespin and I looked at each other and laughed. My guildmate reached out with his vines and gently nudged the sack of cotton closer to Sneasel. “I’ll just leave this here,” he said with a smile. “Alright, well, I’ve been here long enough. I really should go help Wooper bring the rest of the cotton to the guild.”
“Good idea,” I said. “I-it’s probably hard for him to carry those bags with no arms.”
“I dunno about that—he’s actually really strong. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already brought over half the bags by now, all by himself. Anyway, thanks for the chat, guys! And enjoy the cotton!”
Chespin waved goodbye, then hurried out the door to help his partner deliver the rest of the goods. My own partner eyed the bag of cotton sitting next to her, then snorted and looked away, crossing her arms.
“So... are you gonna try it out?” I asked. “If not, you should take it back to the storeroom, so someone else can use it.”
Sneasel groaned and started grabbing big clumps of cotton, messily dumping them on her straw bed. “Fine. I don’t wanna carry it all the way back there. Might as well give it a quick try while it’s here. I mean, you and Chespin keep talking about this stuff, and you both like it so much... I guess I oughta try it for myself so I can get what you guys are talking about, y’know? I ain’t gonna keep it, though.”
“You really should keep it. You’ll sleep better. A good night’s sleep is important if you want to get stronger. And we both know how much you care about that, right?”
Sneasel said nothing, but I knew she agreed. She silently finished covering her hay with cotton, then turned around and fell over backwards onto the bed. As soon as she landed, her breath hitched, her body froze up, and her eyes went wide.
I stood up in my bed. “Sneasel?” I asked. “A-are you okay? What’s wrong?”
She slowly spread her arms out to her sides, and her lips quivered. She shut her eyes tightly and exhaled deeply. “This is the comfiest thing I’ve ever felt,” she whispered. “Better than I thought it’d be. I can’t believe it... We never had anything like this where I come from, back on the island. Pretty much everything there was hard and cold and painful. But this... it’s soft and fluffy like snow, but it’s so warm... and...”
I laughed. “Guess you like soft things after all, huh?”
I received no reply. Sneasel was fast asleep, a faint smile on her face.
* Author’s Note: this is a rewrite of the original “Cotton” story, which I published on 3-25-23. It was written only three weeks after the start of the Clover Guild project, so it became outdated as the project’s canon became more solidified. As such, I decided to edit it to fix those inconsistencies and republish it here in “Booker’s Journal”. The original version can be found here: https://rentry.org/RibombeeCotton
* * *
Map
(Published 7-15-23)*
There I stood, staring up at my giant enemy. In its clutches, high above my reach, it held the treasure I sought: a map. I couldn’t negotiate with this colossus. I couldn’t defeat it in a fight. But somehow, I had to claim my prize from it.
“Are you okay, Booker?”
I turned as I heard the familiar voice of Guildmaster Lliam. The blue Meowstic stood in the doorway, looking at me.
“You’ve been staring at that bookshelf for a while,” he continued.
I sighed and looked back at my enemy. The bookshelf stared back. It was scaled to moderately-sized Pokemon, so they could reach every shelf with the help of a stepstool. But to a tiny Pokemon like me, it was a towering obstacle.
“I know,” I replied. “I need something on the top shelf. But I’m a Ribombee who can’t even fly, so...”
“What do you need?”
“That map,” I said, pointing at a rolled-up piece of parchment, bound with string, sitting at the edge of the uppermost shelf. “You probably already know this, but the guild doesn’t have a really good complete map of the region.”
“Ah, yes. You’ve been working with Macom to gather up some of our maps and use them to make a better map, right?”
“Yeah. He said there’s a map in the library that he needs, and based on his description, I’m pretty sure that’s it up there. I offered to get it for him, but... that was before I realized it was so high up.”
“I can get it for you,” said Lliam, as he stepped into the room. I saw his eyes begin to glow as his psychic powers activated. As if by instinct, I automatically held up a hand to stop him.
“No thanks,” I said. “I’ll do it myself. I... I can’t rely on everyone else all the time.”
The Meowstic nodded and backed away. “I understand. Good luck. Call me if you need me~”
He left the room. I immediately regretted sending him away, but I didn’t want to run after him, begging for help. In the end, I knew this was the right call.
I sighed again and crossed my arms, wondering what to do. The gossamer wings emerging from my back gave me no ideas. Try as I might, I was still unable to move them, aside from a tiny twitch here and there. I’d spent a few weeks in this new body, and I still couldn’t comprehend how to control its new parts.
“If I could just move these wings...” I muttered. “Or if I was just taller... Why’d I get turned into something so tiny? All the other humans are so much bigger than me. I was taller than average when I was a human, but now I’m one of the smallest Pokemon out there. Must be some kind of cosmic joke.”
I paced around the room. How could I get to the top shelf? The sides of the bookshelf were smooth wood, impossible to scale. The front of the bookshelf was no good either. The shelves were too far apart to climb like a ladder, and while I could jump and grab onto the next shelf, my arms were too weak to pull myself up.
Maybe I had to use something else in the room. The tall potted plant in the corner could work. I could climb its trunk all the way up, jump over to the top of the bookshelf, and then drop down to the uppermost shelf from there. But since the pot was smooth and flared out at the top, I couldn’t climb it. The only way to reach the trunk was to jump into the pot from the nearby low table.
The table had a haphazard pile of books to one side. Wincing at the mess, I climbed up the pile and got on the table. I checked the gap between it and the potted plant. It looked longer than I expected. As I often did, I began to second guess myself. Still, this was the best idea I had, so I made a running start across the entire width of the table and leaped with all my might at the pot. I desperately willed my wings to move to increase my hangtime as much as possible. As always, they refused to answer. I crashed into the edge of the pot, which knocked the wind out of me. My frail arms couldn’t hold me up, and I slowly lost my grip and plummeted to the ground.
For all the trouble my small size gave me, at least it had some benefits. For example, my low weight meant I didn’t build up much speed while falling, so while this kind of fall would have crippled me if I were human size, now it didn’t hurt at all. I begrudgingly thanked my new form as I stood up, unharmed except for that bump into the side of the pot.
I resumed pacing, now with added frustration. Eventually, I decided that if nothing in the room could help me, maybe I had to bring something from another room. Or even make something myself.
My mind began to swim with ideas as I hurried out of the library. Located on the second floor of the Clover Guild’s base of operations, its door led into a large lounge. It was currently occupied by a few of my fellow guildmates, who were all chatting casually. A couple of them glanced my way and waved. Feeling a pang of anxiety as their attention turned to me, I halfheartedly waved back and mumbled a greeting, then focused on reaching the room just left of the library.
The door led to a supply closet. It was dark and full of junk. Much like the large storeroom down in the basement, this room was a mess. Although most of the rubbish was out of reach on various shelves or atop myriad stacks, there were plenty of items lying around on the floor. I hated seeing the state of the room, but this could become a blessing in disguise, assuming I could find something useful among the more easily accessible clutter. I had an idea for what I might be able to build, and after some searching, I found what I needed: a very long piece of string and a small rock.
I brought these unassuming items back to the library, then spent a long time cursing my lack of fingers as I tried to tie the end of the string around the rock. Using my mouth along with both hands, I somehow managed it, and ended up with a wonderful rock-on-a-string. It was crude, but it could solve my problem. Hopefully.
I stood in front of the bookshelf, then swung the rock around to build momentum before flinging it up towards the map on the top shelf. To my surprise, it actually got high enough. But it missed my target, bounced off a book, and fell back down, landing beside me.
With an exasperated sigh, I continue trying. After around a dozen attempts, I got the rock to fly over the map and land on the other side. Then, with one eager yank, the rock dislodged the map and sent it tumbling over the edge. I evaded the falling rock and caught the falling map, and a big grin spread over my face. I left my rock-on-a-string behind me, planning to retrieve it later, and hoisted the map over my shoulder. Despite being even bigger than me, its extremely low weight and my insect strength made it trivial to carry.
I ran out into the lounge, but skirted the edge to avoid drawing attention from the group of Pokemon inside. The map room was adjacent to the lounge, making it a quick trip even for someone as small as me. Inside, Macom the Mareep sat at a low table and pored over a set of maps. The cartographer heard my quiet footsteps, and looked over with a smile. I could sense he was a bit annoyed at the delay, but he was still happy that I brought what he needed.
“Oh, you’re back,” he said. “You got the map, huh?”
I nodded and came over to his side, then tossed the rolled-up map onto the table. I crossed my arms proudly, expecting to soon get thumbs up (or whatever the equivalent would be for a hoofed Pokemon) after all the effort I put into this task. Then again, the thought of being praised made me a bit nervously awkward.
Macom undid the string around the map using his mouth and hooves, then straightened it out and looked it over. He kept looking. And looking. It took him a while before he finally looked back down at me and said, “Um... Booker, this is the wrong map.”
* Author’s Note: this is a rewrite of the original “Map” story, which I published on 3-4-23. It was the second story ever written for the Clover Guild, published only one day after the project began. Unfortunately, it became outdated as the project’s canon became more solidified. As such, I decided to edit it to fix those inconsistencies and republish it here in “Booker’s Journal”. The original version can be found here: https://rentry.org/e9e5p
* * *
Sorbet
(Published 5-28-23)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-84hnlrbys (BGM: The Sun Can Bend an Orange Sky)
It was a sweltering day early in summer, and I felt terrible. My insect body couldn’t regulate its temperature very well, so now that the weather was getting hotter, it was crucial (yet difficult) for me to stay cool. Fortunately, my partner Sneasel could help with that. As an Ice-type, her body constantly exuded a faint cold energy, so simply staying in contact with her (such as sitting on her head, my typical perch) felt nice. However, this world lacked such wonderful climate-controlling technologies as air conditioning, and Capim Town was located in the subtropics. So even with Sneasel’s help, it was sure to be an unpleasant summer.
“Unpleasant” certainly was the right word for how I felt this day, the first truly hot one of the year. Sneasel and I needed to travel around the town to complete some guild-assigned errands, and the angry sun refused to stop beating down on us. My wings and antennae drooped. My head ached. I felt weak and lethargic all over. Even Sneasel was uncomfortable, judging by her occasional frustrated grumbles and bouts of panting. Her natural ice abilities could only help her cool off to an extent. And having spent most of her life on a remote frozen island near the north pole, she wasn’t accustomed to this sort of climate.
Halfway through running our errands, she decided it was necessary to stop by a frozen dessert shop for some help keeping cool. I agreed, and we went right for the closest one. The small store was built into a tree like most other buildings in Capim. Multiple customers were gathered outside, sitting on benches or rocks as they ate, and there was a line going out the door. This was clearly a popular spot. But Sneasel knew this place, and insisted it was worth the wait, so I resisted the urge to complain.
After silently suffering in the summer heat for a while, we finally got inside. The shop’s interior was mercifully cooler than outdoors, though it was small and cramped. It only had a few seats and tables, all taken. At the other end of the shop, I saw a Snover behind a row of a half dozen earthenware jars. Each jar sat on a block of ice, all held in a long wooden tray to catch any ice that melted into water. A sign hanging above the row displayed paintings of multiple tropical fruits, explaining the flavors on offer. I frowned deeply as I realized I didn’t like any of them. Sneasel would surely find something to enjoy—she loved tropical flavors—but I would likely have to skip out.
And my frown grew even more as I watched Snover blow a gust of frigid air over the ice blocks to keep them from melting entirely. The sight made me shiver and realize another problem I’d neglected to consider until now. Just like how my Ribombee body couldn’t tolerate hot or cold weather well, it was possible that these ice-cold treats would be too much for me to handle. I could get hurt by eating something like this. Still, I didn’t speak up, not wanting to bring down Sneasel’s mood.
When it was our turn to order, Sneasel said to Snover, “Gimme one of those mango sorbets. Booker, what do you want?”
“Um... nothing, I’m good,” I said.
“You sure? You’re feeling hot, right? I’m buying, so you can get whatever you want. You’ve gotta keep cool.”
“No, it’s fine. I can stay cool enough just sitting on your head.”
Sneasel shrugged. She paid for her mango sorbet and took it outside. She sat on a nearby bench, and started messily eating her food. She never did have good table manners. At least she made sure to keep her head steady so I wouldn’t fall off.
As she ate, the sun resumed its assault on me with a vengeance. With a slight groan, I got on all fours and leaned forward over Sneasel’s forehead, peering down at her dessert. I was now second-guessing my decision to skip getting anything. Even if it was dangerously cold, and not a flavor I liked, it looked especially appealing right now.
My partner seemed to notice me moving around. She asked, “You sure you don’t want any?”
“I’m kind of worried it’s too cold for me,” I replied.
Sneasel chuckled. “Huh? You’re telling me you’re afraid of a little dessert? C’mon, I’m sure it’ll be fine if you just eat a little bit. Have some of mine. I don’t mind.”
“Well, another problem is: I’m not really a fan of mango.”
“Really? How long’s it been since you tried it?”
“A couple years.”
“That long? Maybe you’ll change your mind if you try it again. Also, you’re not a human anymore, so maybe it’ll be different now.”
She had a point. After becoming a Ribombee, my new favorite foods were nectar and pollen, despite the fact that I’d never eaten them as a human. I’d also noticed I appreciated fruits even more than I had before transforming. As a result, I’d come to the conclusion that Ribombee naturally gravitated to sweeter foods like nectar, pollen, and fruit. Despite that, I’d avoided any fruits I used to dislike during my time as a human. That list included mango. Still, with a combination of Sneasel’s friendly encouragement and sun’s relentless heat, I finally decided to give the frozen treat a try.
“W-well, if it’s alright with you,” I said, “I guess I can try some. I’ll try not to take too much, though. I want to make sure you have enough for yourself.”
“Seriously?” Sneasel said with a laugh. “I eat more in one bite than you eat in a whole meal. Don’t worry about it.”
She brought up a hand to the top of her head. I climbed onto her palm, then she brought me down alongside the orange-colored dessert. Despite being half-eaten, it was still bigger than any bowl of sorbet I’d ever seen, which was both intimidating and amusing. I looked at it with some hesitation, then used my fingerless hands to scoop up a large chunk from one spot Sneasel hadn’t reached yet. It felt somewhat rougher than ice cream, and not as moist. It also didn’t seem as cold as I feared. Maybe my exoskeleton was providing some insulation against it. In any case, the cold sensation made it seem even more appealing. I braced myself and took a small bite of the dessert.
I froze—not because it was cold, but because it tasted so unbelievably delicious. The sweet citrus flavor was clearly recognizable as mango, and I could tell it was the same thing I disliked as a human, but now it seemed to trigger a totally different response in my brain. I held it in my mouth and savored it. Sneasel was right: my new body had actually changed my flavor preferences. That was slightly disturbing, as if I had lost a part of myself. But that feeling passed quickly. I had changed in some ways, sure, but I was still me deep down. Besides, gaining the ability to appreciate more flavors and foods was undeniably a benefit.
Not only that, but the coldness of the dessert washed through my body in a soothing wave, even more effective than the ambient chill radiating off Sneasel. I felt the sweltering rays of the sun fade away, beaten back by the sorbet. Best of all, it didn’t cause me any pain. The cold food and the hot sun appeared to be balancing each other out, helping to maintain my body temperature at a perfectly acceptable level.
All these thoughts ran through my head as the sorbet melted in my mouth. I swallowed it, and despite my best efforts, I couldn’t stop myself from gobbling up the rest of my handful in record time. I immediately regretted it, and flinched as I prepared for a painful brain freeze. But nothing happened—another effect of my new anatomy, perhaps? Maybe bugs were immune to brain freeze.
“Are you okay?” Sneasel asked.
I looked over at her, struggled not to laugh as I finally noticed the messy spots of sorbet clinging to her snout, and answered, “Yeah. I was worried it’d give me brain freeze, but I’m good. And the sorbet’s good too! A lot better than I expected.”
“See? I knew I was right. It’s good to try new things, huh?”
“Yeah. Thanks for the encouragement. I’m glad I tried this out.” I smirked, and added, “Oh... speaking of trying new things, that reminds me. You still need to try spinach sometime.”
Sneasel looked away and gagged. “Never. You couldn’t pay me to eat that stuff.”
I chuckled and scooped up another chunk of the dessert. “Yeah, yeah, I was kidding. Anyway, we should definitely come back here sometime.”
“Totally. But next time, you’re paying.”
“That’s fine,” I mumbled, my mouth full of delicious, soothing sorbet. “I’d even pay extra for this.”
* * *
Flowers
(Published 7-4-23)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y816GnoUKJY (BGM: Splash of Color)
I hadn’t planned to sleep in the garden, but I must have dozed off, because I was suddenly woken up by the creaking of a gate. I sat upright on my large cluster of blue hydrangeas—my impromptu bed—and looked around to get my bearings as my drowsiness wore off.
The afternoon sun still shined brightly up above, so I could tell I hadn’t drifted off for long. The guildhall loomed not too far away, and my partner Sneasel sat by the pond nearby, practicing using her elemental powers to form ice shards in different shapes. The garden around us was filled with planter boxes and flowerbeds that hosted a wide variety of foliage, mainly flowers of many species and colors, alongside an array of berry bushes. A complex mix of pleasant floral scents filled the air, making my antennae flick and wave about on their own. Cobblestone paths weaved through it all, and wooden poles stood at attention in various spots, each bearing an unlit lantern.
The unexpected sound of the gate was the only thing that broke the tranquility. Having slipped fully out of my slumber, I looked in the gate’s direction. Sneasel was doing the same, absentmindedly clawing at a chunk of ice while looking over her shoulder. From where I sat, I couldn’t see the gate itself, but I vaguely sensed two unfamiliar Auras approaching. I wondered who was coming. The anxious part of me believed they were intruders or troublemakers, but I tried to ignore that fear.
I got my answer soon enough, and it was not as bad as I had thought: a Minun and Raichu came walking down the path, each carrying a metal watering can and wearing a Clover Guild badge. Sneasel and I had seen these Pokemon once or twice before, but never talked with them. They were new recruits to the guild, so nobody was too familiar with them yet. Minun wore a white lace collar and had a white pansy tucked behind her ear, while Raichu wore a simple blue bandanna around his neck, almost the same shade as Sneasel’s bandanna or the waist cape hanging from the back of my belt.
As they came into view, Sneasel turned around fully and waved. “Sup?” she said. “You’re the new guys, huh?”
“Oh, yeah, we are,” Minun said. “I don’t think we’ve met. You can just call me Minun, and this is my partner Raichu.”
“Call me Sneasel.” Pointing over at me, Sneasel added, “And that there’s my buddy, Booker. We’re partners too.”
The Electric-type duo looked to where Sneasel was pointing. “Huh?” Minun asked. “I don’t see...”
She gasped as she finally noticed me, the tiny Ribombee sitting among the flowers. She scurried over with a gleam in her eye and a huge grin on her face. On my perch, I was about eye level with her. I gulped and shied away as her excited (and big) face filled most of my view.
“Oh, hi!” she said. “I didn’t see you there! Oh my gosh, you’re so cute! You’re a Ribombee, right?”
“Um, I... y-yes,” I stammered. “N-nice to m-meet you.”
“Settle down, Minun,” Raichu said, coming to his partner’s side. He looked down at me, completely unaffected by my admittedly adorable appearance. “You’re scaring the guy.”
“Sorry, I just can’t help it,” she said to her partner. “But you’ve gotta admit he’s cute, right?”
“Sure,” he said flatly, “but I won’t freak out over it. C’mon, we’ve got work to do. Talk to you later, Booker.”
Taking his can, he went to the pond, scooped up water, and began watering the various bushes scattered around.
Minun sighed and looked back at me. She took a step back to give me more space, saying, “Sorry if I made you nervous.”
“I-it’s okay,” I said. “It’s n-not your fault. I’m just... shy. Never liked hav-having attention on me.”
“I understand,” said Minun. Like her partner, she hurried to the pond and filled her can, then came back to my hydrangea bush. She carefully watered it, examining the flowers and continuing to talk with me. “I’ve only visited this garden one time before this, but I loved it. It convinced me and Raichu to sign up as gardeners. So that’s why we’re out here.”
“Th-that’s nice,” I said. I looked down at the globe of blue flowers under me and gave it a pat. “The garden could always use more c-caretakers. You know, I... I helped Team Cozy put this together. Well... i-it was mostly them. I couldn’t really do much, because I’m, uh... so small.”
“Oh, don’t say that,” Minun said. “Every little bit counts, right?”
“I g-guess so...”
Minun smiled. “Exactly. Chin up! Thanks for helping make the garden, Booker. You three did a great job. Hey, Team Cozy is the Chespin and Wooper, right? I bumped into them before, but I didn’t know they made the garden. I should go thank them later.”
“Yeah, th-they’re Team Cozy. Like I said, they did most of the work, but I’m happy I could help out. I’m... I’m glad we made this garden. It’s a nice place, and the berries we grow here are useful in dungeons.”
“And in cooking, I bet,” said Minun.
“True. I prefer the flowers, though. They’re... really pretty. I never used to care for flowers, but now I can’t get enough of them. In fact, this garden is my favorite spot. I like coming here to relax. After the big Federation quest a while back, I spent a whole day just lying here and unwinding. It’s soothing to be around so much beautiful nature.”
“Now you’re speaking my language,” Minun said with a grin. She had moved to the right of my bush, where a multicolored group of lilies were growing. She was examining the white ones intently. “Ooh, these are so elegant. White lilies are some of my favorite flowers. Tiger lilies are great too. They remind me of Raichu. But he prefers more the common, simple flowers like daisies. How about you, Booker?”
“I like them all, honestly,” I replied. “I can’t pick a favorite. Probably because I’m a bug—it’s just instinct, I guess.”
“I heard some bugs can eat flower nectar and pollen, right? Do you do that?”
“Yeah, I do. I can eat other foods, but pollen and nectar are my natural diet, so I have to be careful about straying too far from it, or else I’ll get sick.”
Minun’s ears drooped slightly. “Oh... so you have a really limited diet, huh? That’s too bad.”
“Actually, it’s okay. Every flower has a unique flavor, and it’s fun to try lots of different ones. Especially if they’re rare or foreign.”
“Rare flowers are cool,” Minun said. “Well, then... for both our sakes, I hope we can get many more flowers in our garden! It’ll be lovely for everyone to look at, and you’ll get some tasty treats too.”
I nodded. As I did, I realized with a start that I was smiling. How long had I been doing that? I wasn’t sure, but it was clear that this casual chat was improving my mood. I usually had great trouble talking to new people, always worried I’d say the wrong thing or make a fool of myself. But now, I felt so relaxed. Was it simply because Minun was being friendly? Or because the topic was something I cared about? Either way, it was a welcome change of pace, and it made me smile even more.
Minun had now moved to the next patch of flowers, looking them over as she watered them. After a bit, she asked, “Booker, do you mind if I take a few flowers for my herbarium?”
“Herbarium?” I repeated. “That’s a book where you dry and press flowers, right? You have one of those?”
“Yeah, and it’s coming along well. I haven’t added any flowers from the guild’s garden yet, though. I wanted to ask permission first. And since you helped make the garden, I guess you have authority, right?”
“I’m not sure about that, but... I don’t think anyone would mind if you took some flowers here and there. This is everyone’s garden, after all.”
“Thanks! I’ll search for some pretty ones later.”
“Good luck. Oh, and about your herbarium... do you think you could show it to me sometime? I’d love to see what you have in there!” I caught myself getting a bit excited, and cleared my throat. “Um... if it’s okay with you, of course.”
Minun giggled, saying, “Definitely! It’s in my dorm. Maybe you can swing by later today, if you’ve got time.”
“I think I can do that. Sneasel and I already did a mission today, so we have the rest of the day off. Thanks, Minun.”
“Anything for a fellow flower lover! Anyway, I’ve gotta water the rest of these plants. Raichu’s probably done five times as much as me—he works fast.”
“Please don’t rush,” I said. “Enjoy your time in the garden.”
“I will,” said Minun. Giving me a wink, she said cheerily, “See you, Booker!”
I waved goodbye, and off she went, continuing her work. Once she was out of sight, Sneasel came over and crouched in front of me.
“Made a new friend, huh?” my partner asked.
“Yeah,” I replied. “She seems friendly. And it’s nice having someone else who appreciates flowers.”
Sneasel gave a slight frown. “When you put it like that... do you mean you’re upset that I don’t like flowers?”
“No, definitely not!” I said quickly. “That’s totally fine. To each their own. I actually think it’s cool that we have such different interests, and we still manage to be such great partners.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Good way of looking at it.”
The two of us went quiet and spent a little while basking in the peaceful garden, so full of beautiful flowers. Some distance away, we could see Raichu’s long tail waving around above a berry bush. The faint sounds of him and his partner chatting drifted over to us.
“Y’know, I noticed you acting different with Minun,” said Sneasel. “You were talking a lot more... casually. And you didn’t stutter much either. You weren’t nervous like you usually are with new people.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I noticed that too.”
“Good for you. I’m proud of you.”
I glanced away sheepishly and murmured my thanks. “I think... I think it was because we were chatting about something we both enjoy. It felt... good.”
Sneasel started to say something, but then paused and began avoiding eye contact for some reason. “Um... y’know, anytime you wanna chat about flowers, and Minun ain’t around... feel free to talk with me. I may not be a big fan of flowers like you and her, but I’ll lend an ear anyway. I mean, I... I do enjoy chatting with you.”
“Oh, thanks,” I said. “I like talking with you too. I’ll take you up on your offer sometime.”
“Cool. B-but don’t tell anyone about it, alright? If they heard I was talking about something lame and cutesy like flowers, I’d never live it down.”
I chuckled and nodded. With that, Sneasel went back to the pond to resume her ice practice. I sighed and flopped onto my back, lying on the soft blue hydrangeas and staring up at the clear blue sky. Another smile crossed my face.
“I’m so, so glad we made this garden.”
* * *
In the Dead of Night
(Published 7-25-23)
In the dead of night, sounds of distress pulled me out of my sleep. As I sat up and rubbed my eyes, I tracked the source of the noise to my partner Sneasel, who was asleep in her own bed. Unlike the desktop bowl of cotton balls I slept in, she used a large pile of Whimsicott cotton on the floor by a wall. Right now, she was sprawled out in another one of her typical inelegant sleeping poses, lying on her back with her arms and legs thrown in various angles. But this time, she was twitching, and various moans and groans escaped from her. Her face kept scrunching up, and she frequently snarled and showed her fangs.
This wasn’t an unfamiliar sight, though thankfully, it didn’t happen too often. There had been several occasions where I woke up in the middle of the night and saw her acting this way, and I could always assume she was having nightmares. Most of the time, they didn’t last long, and we both went back to sleep without issue. This night was different. She was more active, and didn’t seem to be settling down anytime soon. Not only that, among her indistinct and faint noises of distress, I clearly heard something that I hadn’t during any prior episode: my name.
As soon as I noticed that, I clambered out of bed, hopped off the desk, and jogged across the floor towards her. I made sure to give a wide berth to her arm—compared to a Ribombee like me, it was like a particularly thick tree trunk, and I didn’t want to be in its path if it suddenly lashed out as she twitched around. Soon enough, I stood by the right side of her towering head and listened closely to her sleep-talking, trying to deduce what her nightmare was about and how it involved me. I got my answer before long. I heard her mumbling my name again, along with other scattered snippets of phrases, each with a fearful and frightened tone that I’d never heard from Sneasel while she was awake.
“No... Don’t go...”
“Don’t take him...”
“Don’t... leave me... Booker...”
I froze up, and a knot instantly formed in the pit of my stomach. The content of her nightmares was as plain as day now, and it made my heart sink. Pity and anxiety swirled in my mind as I tried to decide how to help my friend.
I considered waking her, but I remembered hearing that it could be risky to disturb someone having a nightmare. I heard that if they slept through it, they may forget it in the morning, whereas they would be more likely to remember if woken up during the dream. Also, they could have trouble getting back to sleep since the nightmare would be fresh in their mind. I wasn’t sure if all that was true, but it made me nervous enough to avoid rushing things and waking her up right away.
Instead, I decided to try soothing her first. Maybe feeling a tender touch or hearing my familiar voice would allow her to easily drift back into a more peaceful slumber. Of course, there was a risk I would accidentally wake her up by doing so, but I thought this was unlikely. She slept lightly in dangerous places, like when we spent the night out in the wilds or the roadside, but she tended to be a heavy sleeper whenever she slept in a safe location, like here in our dorm. And since I was so small, I thought my touch would be light enough, and my voice quiet enough, to avoid disturbing her.
With that in mind, I gently placed my right hand on her fuzzy cheek, which was soft and cool to the touch, and prepared to whisper to her. I didn’t get a chance to say anything. As soon as Sneasel felt something touch her face, she instinctively swatted at it. I had no time to react as her hand flew to her cheek and smacked me—hard. Fortunately, the claws missed me, but the strike knocked the wind out of me, and I barely managed to avoid yelling in pain. Her palm pinned me against her cheek for a few moments, then her arm went limp and her hand flopped to the floor a short distance behind me.
I staggered but stayed upright. My breathing quickened and my heart raced as sharp pain shot through my back and wings. Fear rose up in my mind, telling me to give up and slink back to my bed, letting Sneasel get over this nightmare on her own. But my legs refused to obey. As I watched my partner groaning and shuddering, and listened to her breath hitching, I knew it would be cruel to leave her like this. Even if it put me at risk, I had to help her.
After composing myself, I whispered in her ear, “Sne-Sneasel? Can you hear me? It’s okay. I’m here. Booker’s here.”
Sneasel mumbled my name again. This time, she didn’t sound worried or frightened like she did before. If anything, she seemed surprised. Maybe the sound of my voice was beating back her nightmare.
As gingerly as possible, I moved the hand that was resting on her cheek, gently rubbing it through her fur in the hopes it would calm her down more. To my surprise, it seemed to work. Her breathing became more regular, she twitched less, and her body’s tension seemed to loosen up overall. Growing more confident, I picked up the pace a little, and even reached out with my left arm, trying to stroke the top of her head as best I could with my minuscule reach.
At the same time, I continued whispering to her. “It’s okay. It’s just a bad dream. I’m not leaving you—and nobody’s taking me from you. But I understand why you’d be afraid of that. We’re partners, after all.”
The only response I got was a quiet grunt. But it sounded calm and relaxed, unlike the shaky and shuddery sounds she had been making before. I got another idea, and moved my left hand, attempting to scratch behind her ear. I did this occasionally when she was awake and I was perched on her head, and she always liked it. Even now, despite being asleep, she still seemed notice and enjoy it. She gave another contented grunt, making me smile and keep it up.
“You know,” I continued, “I... I worry about you too. Ever since we met about... four months ago—gosh, has it really been four months already?—we’ve been through so much. We’ve challenged lots of dangerous dungeons, taken so many tough jobs, and even had some near-death experiences... especially in the Thunder Dome a few days ago. I’m always concerned about you getting hurt, and I know you worry about me too. But, honestly... you’re the strongest, bravest girl I know. And I’m doing my best to get stronger too. So, I know we can stand up to anything. And we’ll do it together, because... the two of us are such a great team. Y-you’re the best partner I could ask for. I always enjoy being with you, because you... you make me feel... safe, and... h-happy...”
I cut myself off before I could say anything else. My mind had begun to race. Now that I’d poured my heart out and put my thoughts into words for the first time, I started to realize my feelings towards Sneasel were stronger and deeper than I thought. And why wouldn’t they be? We were together almost all the time, and we’d grown so close. We always understood and supported each other. She would mess with me sometimes, but it was always in good fun, and I knew I could always count on her when I needed her.
I cared about her more than any other friend. I was happier with her than with anyone else. She was starting to feel like more than a friend, more than a partner. Maybe she was even...
...
...I’d never had these thoughts about anyone before. They felt like a slap in the face, and I had no idea how to deal with them. Still, my body reacted automatically, and I felt my heart flutter and heat rush to my face. My insect body couldn’t blush, but I was certainly blushing on the inside.
After taking a few slow, quiet breaths to try and relax, I decided there was no point in stressing over this new development right now. I suddenly had a lot on my mind, and organizing my thoughts and feelings would take a while, but I didn’t have to work on it here in the dead of the night. For now, it would be wisest to get back to bed—and do my best to sleep despite the metaphorical butterflies in my stomach.
Before leaving Sneasel, I observed her again, checking if she was doing better now. She seemed to be completely relaxed. Her body was motionless, aside from her chest slowly moving up and down as she breathed. She made no more noises. All traces of her nightmare were gone, and she had slipped back into a serene sleep.
With a satisfied smile on my face, I finally made my way back to the desk. Once I climbed back up and prepared to get in bed again, I looked at Sneasel one last time. From this higher vantage point, I had a better look at her face, and I could see she was now smiling. The sight put my flustered mind at ease. I smiled back at her.
“Goodnight, Sneasel.”
* * *
Author’s Note
This page will act as a place to compile my small, short, slice-of-life stories featuring Booker. I wanted to set up one spot to hold them instead of scattering them over a large number of pages. I plan to gradually add more and more short stories to this page over time, while larger stories will get their own pages.