Capítulo 17: Chapter 17: Collision Course

The heat was relentless, the sun hanging like a furnace in the sky as I pushed my way through the marketplace of Verdin City. The air was thick with noise—vendors shouting, hawking everything from berries to trinkets, and the smell of grilled food mixing with the dust of the street. My sling bag slapped against my side with each step, reminding me of the weight of my Pokéballs inside. Bulbasaur and Pidgy were tucked away, but I could almost feel their impatience, their energy simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the next battle.

I barely glanced at the vendor shoving a basket of berries toward my face. Too late for pleasantries today. My destination was the Pokémon Center, where Nurse Joy would patch up any Pokémon, no matter the battle they'd endured. My eyes scanned the crowd—trainers, kids barely older than me, laughing and bargaining, acting like this was all a game. But I knew better. There was nothing playful about power, and I intended to have it.

The automatic doors whooshed open, a gust of cool air hitting me like a blessing. Inside, the Center was buzzing—trainers lined up, their Pokémon either slumped with exhaustion or proudly sitting beside them, freshly healed. The clock on the wall ticked past noon, but the tension in the air felt thicker than it had last night, after Team Rocket had stormed through.

I tightened my grip on the Pokéballs, tapping my foot as I waited in line. Every second felt like a waste. My red jacket was too hot, even in here, but I didn't bother taking it off. Focus, I told myself. There's a lot to be done before Pewter City.

Nurse Joy, as usual, smiled that serene, practiced smile when she finally got to me. "Punit," she greeted me, with a softness that I neither asked for nor wanted. "You've done so much for us last night. Thank you. If it wasn't for you stopping Team Rocket..." Her words hung in the air like a badge, one I didn't care to wear.

"I need to feed my Pokémon," I said, cutting her off before she could continue, "They're hungry, not injured."

She waved to Chansey, who whisked the Pokéballs away to tend to Bulbasaur and Pidgy. I didn't watch them go. "Can I buy some Pokémon food for later?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.

Her expression shifted, something like apology flickering in her eyes. "We don't sell food for take-out, I'm afraid."

Not unexpected, but still irritating. "Fine," I muttered. She didn't seem to notice or care about my impatience.

"There's a Trainer Market nearby," she added quickly. "You can get everything you need there. Sometimes you'll find rare items or Pokémon being traded—if you're lucky." Her voice had taken on that chipper tone again. It grated against the edges of my thoughts, but her words sparked something. The market wasn't far. And if I was lucky, maybe I could get more than just supplies.

I slid a few Pokédollars into the vending machine, grabbing a cold drink when it clattered down the chute. The metal can hissed as I popped it open, the fizz hitting my tongue as I gulped it down, feeling the coolness seep into my skin. I set it on the table by the window, my eyes following the chaos outside.

The Center hummed with life, but my mind was elsewhere—already planning the next step. Pewter City was my target. The gym leader there would be tough, but if I could get ahead, maybe find something useful at the market, I'd stand a better chance. Every battle was another rung on the ladder, and I intended to climb it faster than anyone.

Nurse Joy's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "All set," she said, handing over my Pokéballs. Her smile wavered, just for a second, as if she could sense something beneath the surface. "Are you headed to Pewter City now?"

I gave a nod, already reaching for my bag. But before I could take more than a step, she stopped me again. "Can you deliver this to my sister in Pewter City? At the Pokémon Center there?" She held out a small package, wrapped tightly, the weight of it unfamiliar in my hand. I didn't need another errand, but the look in her eyes told me this wasn't optional.

"Yeah, sure," I said, tucking it into my bag without a second glance. It wasn't like I had a choice.

I turned to leave, but the moment I did, something slammed into me. Hard. The force knocked me to the floor, my drink spilling as I hit the ground with a grunt. Before I could register what had happened, a girl—small but fast—was already up, rushing past me.

"Please! My Squirtle—he hasn't woken up since last night!" Her voice cut through the noise of the Center, sharp with panic. She cradled the limp form of a Squirtle in her arms, her black eyes wide and frantic.

I stood up slowly, my eyes narrowing as I took her in. She looked about my age, maybe a little taller, with long black hair pulled into a messy side ponytail. Her clothes were practical—cargo shorts, a sleeveless white tank top, and a teal vest. A silver bracelet caught the light as she held Squirtle close to her chest, her voice breaking with desperation.

Nurse Joy was already moving to help, but I couldn't stop watching. There was something raw in the way the girl clutched her Pokémon—like it was the only thing holding her together. The emotional intensity of it all clashed against the detached focus in my own mind.

I adjusted the strap of my bag, the image of the girl searing into my thoughts. She was different from the other trainers—there was a fire in her, something fierce and desperate. My fingers tightened on the strap as I turned toward the door, forcing myself to move.

But as I stepped out into the blistering heat, I couldn't shake the thought of her. The girl with the Squirtle.