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A Saga of Tanya the Chansey: 19
🕑 Added 2025-06-05 00:44:45 +0000 UTCA/N: SORRY! The following is going to be appeneded to the end of ch18. I wrote it this week and decided to put it here because it's important to the plot, and I didnt want to spam you all with like. 500 words.
SORRY AGAIN, CH19 ACUTALLY STARTS AT THE INDICATED SPOT
ON WITH THE SHOW!
---
Amelia stares down at the empty cardboard box in front of her for a long few minutes, wrestling with her emotions before getting to work with a sigh.
With this year's league circuit coming so soon, and everyone who’s going on a journey talking about nothing else, she’s been forced to face reality.
From around the room, a wide variety of items are taken and put into the box. Traveling maps of the region, a heavy duty backpack, a hammock, a collapsible hiking pole.
A brown bandoleer with three pokeballs attached
She pauses at the sight of the balls, gently grabbing one in its travel form and turning the aperture to face her.
Amelia had been lying to herself.
She’d told herself her refusal to try to find a happiny partner was to avoid upsetting them with her ‘intensity,’ all the while secretly hoping to find a partner with any other species. Lying to herself for months to buy time for a shadow of an excuse to disappoint everyone who cares about her.
Then she met Happiny.
And they were meant for each other.
She sighs, releasing the ball and standing to pack away all the other odds and ends that she’d gathered for an imaginary journey.
There was a flash of hope when they’d fought that torchic. But every visit to the library afterwards only proved that Happiny is exactly the kind of ‘mon Amelia claimed she wanted.
Because Happiny wants to be a nurse, badly enough that they’re studying material two years in advance and already talking about their specialization, a close call between pharmacology and physical therapy.
Digging through her drawers and sorting out endless pamphlets and books on pokemon training, the soon to be nurse gives a wet sniff and begins roughly tossing the literature into the box across the room.
The worst part –in Amelia’s mind– is what this means about her.
People find their partners because they share the same passions. The bond is formed over the fact they are, in a very real sense, meant for each other.
Amelia can only conclude that, by bonding with Happiny, she didn't want to become a trainer bad enough. That all her friends going on a journey have the fire that burns in her chest times a hundred and easily found partners to match that passion.
At the bottom of the drawer is a well worn piece of paper, glorified junk mail she’d gotten so long ago.
‘Southwest Hoenn Tech: Correspondence Nursing and Traveling Residency’
Below it describes, in bright colors and breathless tones, the advantages of correspondence school. Bragging about every pokecenter that’s an ‘affiliated location’ as it practically screams how easily it would match up to a pokemon journey by implication.
The junk mail is torn in half, then again, and again, until sixteen little scraps of paper flitter into the wastebin.
Amelia sniffs, blinking a few times as the room blurs.
Stupid.
Being a pokemon trainer is a full time job, so is school. Doing both would just mean doing neither, and a correspondence school would just mean a sub-par education leading to an equally sub-par job.
It’s better this way.
The lid of the box is sealed with a resounding thunk and violently shoved under her bed.
It’s good this happened, that it was caught early before she could ruin her future.
Now, when she watches the exhibition match from the bleachers, –where she belongs– she’ll be able to move on to what she’s supposed to do while the gym circuit starts without her.
What she wants to do.
Amelia hiccups, wiping her sleeve across her face to clear tears and snot from the dust disturbed in packing away a childish fantasy.
And waits for the still burning fire in her heart to die out.
CH19
Tanya finds she misses naptime.
In the days following the… events on her nursery's birthday, the daily nap hour has been phased out. Replaced with a rotating cast of games and educational activities to fill that slot.
It’s not all bad, as everyone is also allowed to leave the nursery and access areas around the hospital with varying levels of supervision. But the removal of naptime and those additional freedoms means there are fewer times where everyone is all in one spot, and when they are they’re certainly not quiet.
Now Tanya has to deal with a constant mental ledger of the assumed locations of every sibling, and time since last confirming their status.
On cue, she hears the door open and looks up to see a triplet of sisters rushing into the nursery ahead of Caretaker, each carrying one or two books over their heads fresh from the library.
But as they rush toward the unofficial reading corner Caretaker's eyes lock to hers, and as she starts to approach Tanya glances over to her sister as she continues sketching a genuinely well rendered landscape of the yard in crayon.
“Appologies, I’m going to have to cut this short.” She states, putting down her own crayon and sliding over a significantly less true to life sketch. “Excellent work with the composition, the sun shimmer on the water draws the eye.”
Happiny gives a distracted grunt as Tanya gets up with a smirk.
She’ll give it even odds her sister will even notice she’s gone.
Approaching Caretaker, Tanya comes to a stop in front of her as the ‘mon gives the rest of the room an expert’s eye before looking back down and extending her arm.
“You ready?”
The former soldier simply nods, grabs the offered appendage, and allows herself to be led out the door and into the hospital proper.
Navigating familiar halls for the first leg of the journey, they suddenly make a turn into unknown territory, twisting though ever more crowded hallways until they exit a pair of double doors into an expensively decorated reception room.
A front desk sits on one side, looking out at neat rows of and high glass walls looking out to the street of what looks like a rather small town.
As the public facing area of the hospital, where the majority of outsiders interact with the institution, its rows of seating are scattered with every variety of human and ‘mon waiting for the services offered.
But before she has the time to really take in the new sights and sounds she’s interrupted by a familiar pulse of fiery mana.
“Rival!”
Her head snaps to the challenge just in time to see her Rival being restrained by a stern looking blaziken, holding tight to Combusken’s recently formed arms.
Tanya tries not to stare.
It’s one thing reading about the concept of evolution in a book, even seeing it on video, but seeing it in person makes an abstract understanding significantly more present, real.
Blaziken tugs sharply on her charge’s arm, disrupting his balance.
“Chicklet! Where are we?”
Combusken opens his beak to respond, but the elder ‘mon plows over the attempt.
“Are we in an arena?”
Combusken ducks his head and looks at his feet and shuffles them guiltily.
“No Broodmatron. Sorry Broodmatron…” He mutters.
WIth his head down, Combusken can't see how Blaziken’s eyes soften as she releases her grip.
“Good, and for goodness sake fix your plumage. You look like you just woke up.”
Tanya watches with fascination as her Rival complies immediately, half raising a leg toward his head before catching himself and clumsily trying to use his hands to fix his feathers.
But her attention is quickly drawn to Blaziken as she looks down at her with piercing eyes.
“So… we finally meet."
Tanya pauses for a beat for any context but, seeing none forthcoming, gives a nod and holds out an arm.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
Blaziken stares at the offered arm with half a smirk, but before she can say anything else every eye in the room is drawn to the two front doors as they slam open to admit a child with spiked burgundy hair.
“How dare you evolve without me!?”
At the sound Combusken’s feathers flare out, disrupting a half finished preening job as he shouts his response across the room.
“You wanna fight about it tough guy!?”
“Yes I do in fact you stupid bird!”
They both start stomping across the room toward each other.
“Do you have any idea how many people I had to argue with to keep you as my partner!? If you’d evolved six hours earlier you wouldn't be eligible at all!”
The idea seems to catch Combusken off guard slightly, but he rallies quickly.
“That’s not my fault! What took you so long to pick me up!?”
Tanya watches the exchange as the both of them grow ever louder as they approach with an exasperated, but unsurprised, sigh.
When Caretaker suggested she see Torchi– Combusken off, she’d known the meeting would end up something like this. No one else would fit the bill for someone who could stand being around that ‘mon for longer than ten minutes as they leave the nursery to travel the country on their ‘journey.’
Though, the gossip of the week with the caretakers is how Combusken is getting to leave a few days early for the league circuit because of his extremely early evolution.
The thought has Tanya’s attention drifting around the room as ‘mon and human alike watch the extremely loud interaction with amused eyes.
The more she learns about the idea of a Journey from overheard conversations, the internet, and how Amelia talks about the idea, the more it seems to be… culturally holistic.
With more context to the idea, she realized her initial understanding of it as a ritualised competitive bloodsport wasn’t incorrect, but it was incomplete.
It's not just everything she’d identified in those first few months, because it’s also a kind of coming of age ceremony, and a self paced summer camp, and an opportunity network, and there’s some kind of element of social status gained on the human side by being partnered with strong pokemon.
Though that aspect is more nebulous.
Combine all that with the very real political power that can be gained in the process and suddenly the word ‘journey’ seems woefully lacking in descriptive context to an extremely important pillar of this place’s culture.
She’s brought out of her musing by the approach of a familiar heat that has her own magic flare in response.
Turning to Combusken and making note how she has to look slightly upward to meet his eyes, Tanya raises an eyebrow as she looks between her Rival and his trainer, the latter regularly glancing over his soulder as he makes his way toward the exit.
Combusken looks back at her, opening and closing his beak as he seems to struggle with his words.
After a few seconds of this his trainer chimes in but Tanya ignores the unimportant information and waits for her Rival to speak, before he seems to deflate.
“Bye.” He says with a frustrated sigh.
Tanya blinks, tilting her head.
She’s never been good with goodbyes, but this one seems uniquely awful.
“See you later.” She corrects, pulling out a card with a freshly created email address on it and handing it over. “Caretaker suggested I create an email account to keep in contact with her after I leave the nursery, but I felt you might appreciate a line of communication with your batchmate–”
She’s cut off as the card is snatched from her grip faster than she can see and finds herself wrapped in gangly limbs.
But as quick as the hug started, it’s over, Combusken pulling back, wiping his eyes with a wrist, and holding the piece of paper to his chest like it’s the most important thing in the world.
“Thanks.” He warbles, then glances behind him at the sound of his trainer's voice calling from across the room in a tone that seems like it can't decide whether to be hurried or cautious.
Her Rival takes a step back.
“See you later.”
And with that he turns and jogs toward his trainer, then goes out the front doors and into the world beyond.
Tanya blinks as the sight makes innumerable emotions flow over her, moving too quickly and too messily to identify.
She watches the two through the windows bracketing the doors as they seem to have an argument on which way to go, before they turn left and walk until they disappear beyond the window’s view.
Her relationship with Combusken defies any definition other than Rival. No other term fits, and as such she does not have any similar experiences to reference from as the sight makes her feel…
She continues to watch the last spot she saw the two until Caretaker gently grips her arm.
“Ready to head back home?” She asks, eyes scanning her charge’s face for… something.
Tanya nods, expression neutral to mask sudden exhaustion.
She really wishes naptime was still a thing.
—--
–_–
—--
Glancing up at Amelia and her mother as they come to a stop at a secure door and Caretaker pulls an ID lanyard from out her pouch, Tanya is confident and self aware enough to recognise that she’s slightly nervous as the card is swiped across a reader and the lock buzzes open.
Caretaker tightens her grip on her charge's arm slightly as the adult human opens the door to the employee parking lot and steps into the morning light.
Tanya looks up as Caretaker gives a gentle squeeze.
“Be sure to have fun. Alright?”
“Of course.”
“And when you get back tell me all the things you saw!”
Tanya tilts her head slightly.
“I’ll be sure to give you a full report.”
With that, Caretaker gives a third tight hug in the past ten minutes then steps back and waves her away.
“See you tonight!”
Nodding, Tanya turns on her heels and, after a moment's hesitation at the line where linoleum becomes asphalt, steps out of the hospital for the first time.
It’s… strangely underwhelming.
Mostly because it’s just a parking lot.
Breaking into a bouncing run to close the gap between herself, her partner, and the human proctor, the former soldier allows her eyes to wander. Taking in every experience as the first time leaving the hospital.
Both groups arrive at the car at the same time, and as she inserts a key in the door to unlock it, the adult Joy looks down at Tanya.
“I’ve never worked in a nursery. Do they teach car safety in your classes?”
The ‘mon nods.
She’s not actually sure, but she knows how to operate a seatbelt.
The mother smiles and claps her hands together.
“Excellent! There’s vomit bags in the center console. Amelia, would you mind showing her, and help buckle in?”
Amelia gives an affirming hum as she opens the backseat and gestures for Tanya to enter.
“I got it.”
With that, everyone piles into the vehicle and –after Tanya manages to squeeze her bulk through the slightly too small gap and a bit of seat adjustment– everyone is buckled in with the engine rumbling.
The adult looks through the rearview mirror to confirm everyone is ready.
“Feeling alright back there?” She asks, continuing at Tanya and her partner’s nod. “Good! Also, I know we’ve met before but it’s been a little while, my name’s Joana, but you can call me Mom!”
Tanya blinks.
That’s… personal.
Thankfully, as she tries to figure out how to respond, she realizes the human can't actually understand her.
“I appreciate the gesture.” She says, pitching her voice to sound excited as she gives her true feelings. An unexpected benefit to a long standing issue.
The side eye from Amelia indicates her lackluster response managed to get through. But before she can say anything Joana gives a pleased half laugh as she shifts the car into drive.
“Well someone’s excited! Let's get going!”
—--
“No. I can see you making a hollow cast and filling it with the sand. If you can't do it we’ll just switch to an easier problem.”
Tanya grunts, adjusting her grip on several thousand grains of sand as she forces wavering psychic energy to obey her will.
But, even using mathematics as a way to offset the workload, as she tries to apply a motion vector to as many grains as possible her grip in other sections of the work area slip. Dropping sand into a rapidly growing pile as both her concentration and mana burns out, every grain falling to the bottom of the sealed glass jar in a wave of catastrophic failure.
Exhausted, she passes the jar back to her partner and tries to power through the singularly exhausting feeling of burning herself out.
Amelia had been surprisingly resistant to continuing their most recent round of tests and puzzles. But, after a half hour of silent car ride and terrible radio music, they’d gotten started with the newest challenge.
The ‘mon glares at the jar before she nearly hits her head on the passenger seat as the car comes to a sudden stop.
“We’re here!” Joana calls out cheerfully as she puts the car in park and the engine sputters to a stop. “We’re a few blocks from the gym, streetside parking is free on holidays and I’m not letting some electronic hustler punk swindle us.”
Tanya blinks, comparing the content of the message to its upbeat tone, then to the pastel pinks and soft whites the woman wears even outside of her work uniform.
Then quickly unbuckles her seatbelt.
Alright then.
Exiting the vehicle and looking around for the first time, Tanya is hit by a wave of nostalgia as she takes in the sights and sounds of Mauville. The slightly too narrow streets and faint yet unmistakable scent of the sea.
It doesn't feel like Tokyo, that city is unmistakable even so long removed, but looking around the former salaryman is reminded of many a vacation to Niigata.
She watches as a small trickle of pedestrians cross the street at a nearby intersection, lost in old memories she’d thought lost to time until Amelia makes her way around from the other side of the car.
“C’mon, stick close while we’re out here, you don't have a pokeball yet. No one’s supposed to try and catch ‘mon in cities, but if something happens you’d have to re-register because you already have an ID number and– You get it, right?”
Tanya nods.
“It’s a hassle.”
Her partner nods back.
“Right.”
With that the trio link up and, after checking with a city map mounted on a streetlight to get their bearings, head toward the Mawville gym.
Following along, Tanya tries to not look around like a tourist as the sights and sounds conquer old memories of japan, but finds herself failing as she stares at a street sign and its unmistakable font and pondering the sheer implausibility of how similar everything is to her original home.
Being sent to magical Europe with an unfamiliar history allowed some mental distance to the concept. But now that it’s a place she’s eminently familiar with, the idea that so much of the world is the same despite an impossibly divergent history doesn't seem remotely plausible.
The source of that divergence is equally impossible to ignore. Because pokemon are everywhere.
As they approach the gym small trickles of pedestrians flow into each other at every intersection until the sidewalks are packed, and for every two people there’s a ‘mon following along.
She assumes, from what she can see.
Tanya glares from the shade of the crowd as she looks through a forest of moving legs.
Just once, she wishes to not be the shortest person in a room.
Evolution can't come soon enough, but with her luck she’ll just end up being the shortest Chansey on record.
Though it is her species's puberty analogue, which she’s… avoided researching.
Her mental grumbling is cut off as the crowd suddenly parts, revealing what can only be described as a festival held in a large swath of green space in front of a massive indoor mall, its doors propped open to reveal the festivities extending inside the building as well.
In every direction booths advertise games and concessions in cheery colors and lightningbolt motifs, and beyond the normal festival faire there are attractions Tanya’s never seen before.
Exhibitions of pokemon strength and skill on display as a machoke tosses laughing children high into the air while a trio of magemite twirl in an intricate performance of mirrored patterns between gouts of water shot from a fountain, tossing lighting back and forth between each other while linking and unlinking ever more complicated ways.
The show culminates in all three meeting in the middle in the half second gap where the center spout is disabled before shooting upward as if chased by the water as it activates, all three linking for the first time with a flash of lightning that scatters the chasing water.
Tanya’s brought out of her fascinated observation as Joana hums as she checks her watch.
“Well… we’ve got an an hour and a half before we’ve got to get to our seats, Jigglypuff asked me to get this year's commemorative pin for her, and she’d ki– be quite upset at me, she’s already grumpy enough with the stomach bug. Meet back at the fountain in an hour fifteen?"
Amelia gives a firm nod before reaching down, grabbing Tanya's arm, and dragging her off toward the mess of booths.
“Right! I’ve still got some money from last year's summer job, but first I need you to check if this ring toss booth is cheating with psychic.”
Tanya stumbles a little before shaking off her partner's grip and getting into a speedy bounce to keep up as longer legs speedwalk away.
“This year. This year for sure!”
–_–
Tanya did not find any evidence of psychic trickery in the ring toss game, and Amelia did not win any of the stuffed animals.
From there they wandered though the booths, Tanya taking a backseat as her partner enjoyed the simple pleasures of a good festival.
It’s just like she remembers, only made better by the addition of pokemon at every turn.
They link back up with Joana before the allotted time, where the only… hiccup of the day occurs.
As Tanya stares at a concessions stand handing out sticks of skewered meat.
She tries to avoid looking off-put by the sight, but her partner notices somehow and pats her on the head.
“Dont worry, it’s ditto.”
She glances up at the human, incredulous.
How is that supposed to make her feel better?
Seeing the expression on her face, Amelia hastily continues.
“I- I mean no one’s dying for– Uh… I mean– If you keep feeding a ditto they just keep getting bigger!” She blurts out, then squints into the middle distance to get her thoughts together.
Eventually she looks back down and starts speaking with a carefully precise tone.
“There are ditto farms that know how to harvest the extra ditto cells safely, then companies do… something to trick it into tasting certain ways.”
She makes a disgusted expression.
“People in Kalos love it. It’s an… acquired taste.”
Joana chuckles at a private thought then chimes in as she steps up to the counter.
“I remember when I was your age, there was this big gross-out fad and mimic meat was the newest craze from the mainland. So some company made this limited edition sandwich meat for Haunting Day that was supposed to taste like a human. Your grandmother was furious.”
She laughs at the memory, turning around with a skewer in one hand and offering two more in the other.
“Want one?”
–_–
Tanya did try a skewer, but found the meat to be somehow stringy and mushy.
And conceptually unpleasant.
Joana polishes off the last of her third skewer and tosses it into a trashbin and checks her watch, blinking rapidly.
“Well. That was fast. Come on, we've got to get to our seats.”
Heading toward the entrance to the mall and enticing the crowd, Tanya’s vision is once more obscured by shuffling legs.
On her left she notices an equally disadvantaged lairon and shares a commiserating glance before he’s lost in the crowd.
It takes a few minutes, but eventually they go up an escalator and through a pair of double doors to look out at the arena from the top of stadium seating. Navigating the shallow stairs Joana eventually pulls them off on a seemingly random bench.
“Right! Row thirty six-L!”
Settling in, Tanya adjusts her spot to get a clear view between two people and breathes a sigh of relief as she sits down.
This day has been more tiring than she’d expected, not helped with all the telekinetic training in the car ride over.
She tunes out the noisy scene and takes in the arena as the stands quickly fill up. Making note of the packed earth floor, painted with whatever kind of paint they use on a baseball diamond in a style reminiscent of a football pitch.
The Gym is focused on electric type ‘mon, so she has to assume the tesla coils bracketing the arena aren't for show, though with this many people there has to be more protections she just can't see.
Probably something psychic.
Her musing is interrupted by the electronic squeal of a microphone turning on.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, People and Pokemon of all ages! Welcome to the one hundred twenty seventh League exhibition match!”
The room erupts into deafening cheers, but just as quickly quiets like a rehearsed call and response.
“Tonight, under the bright lights and roaring crowd, history will be written! Because this isn't just a battle it’s a clash that’s old as time! From the dawn of history the islands and the mainland have fought! A symphony of power, precision, and Pokémon pride! Brought to new heights! Here! And! Now!”
The crowd roars again, the polite tone slackening as the energy in the room abruptly jumps.
“I sure hope you’re wearing a scarf and left any electronic devices at home, because it’s time to introduce our trainers!”
The lights above Tanya flick off just as more lamps illuminate the arena, giving the space an almost unreal glow.
“In the challengers box tonight there is none other than the elegant mistress of frost and snow, from distant lands the aspiring queen of cold who chose to roam, now who calls our island home! Member of the Elite Four and master of ice! Glacia!”
The woman steps into the arena and gives a practiced twirl of her dress as the energy of the crowd reaches a fevered pitch. She runs a hand along six pokeballs at her waist and takes a stance.
The crowd is even slower to quiet, the organized call and response almost completely gone, only softening their cheers when the announcer comes on again.
“And in the Gym box a man needs no introduction! But he deserves one anyway! It’s our master of the electron! Our strongest of the strong! Our hometown boy because he built half the city and powers the rest! Protector of man and ‘mon alike! It’s Wattsonnnnnn!”
At the sight of the silver haired man in a jumpsuit and too small floral shirt,
The audience.
Explodes.
A noise so loud as to be more accurately described as a shockwave than a sound rips through the arena, growing louder as he raises his arms and sweeps his gaze around the space with a wide smile.
It doesn't stop either, continuing at the same deafening volume for at least forty five seconds before it quiets enough for the announcer’s speakers to be heard.
“Trainers! Are you ready!?”
Both nod as one, Glacia giving an elaborate courtesy while plucking a ball from her belt at the same time. In turn, Wattson’s smile grows larger and sharper as he widens his stance, puts one hand on his hip, and rests the hand holding a pokeball at his side.
The crowd once again drowns out the speakers for another half minute, finally quieting enough for the announcer's scream to be barely heard above the cacophony.
“Then let the match begin!”
---
ANOTHER A/N: (AA/N:)
Can you tell that pokemon battling is... important culturally?
I sure hope so!
Ta-Ta All!
Comments
eh dontlisten
You know. For the LONGEST time I thought /s meant "serious" because I saw /ns first and worked backward from there.
Apostle_of_Tea
You know I can’t tell, maybe have them scream a bit louder? Yeah that might emphasise it enough /s
A Giant Crab
oh my god they both suck at communicating their feelings. they _are_ perfect for each other.
