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A Saga of Tanya the Chansey: 5
🕑 Added 2025-03-12 22:16:27 +0000 UTCTanya wasn't sure exactly what she’d expected when she agreed to this. But as her sister sits down opposite and grabs both her hands, she knows it’s not this.
“Ok.” Happiny says, face scrunching up slightly in thought. “This is how Chansey did it, so just… repeat after me.”
Waving their arms back and forth in a simple rhythm, she starts humming the tune.
Tanya copies her exactly, slightly disappointed, but pushing on regardless and mentally reassessing this interaction from ‘lesson’ to ‘play.’
But as she finishes the notes her sister’s face contorts into one of consternation.
“Hmmm.” She hums, eyes darting around in thought. “Maybe try it again?”
She repeats the same opening notes, Tanya copying perfectly.
But Happiny still doesn't look satisfied, instead she’s beginning to look agitated.
“No, that’s not-” She stops with a considering look. “Maybe I’m not saying it right…?”
Realizing this is only going to end in frustration for both parties, Tanya starts to stand.
“Thank you Happiny, you’ve been very helpful, bu-” She’s cut off by her sister tugging Tanya back to the ground with unexpected strength.
“No! We can do this!” She exclaims, face the platonic ideal of seriousness. “Just… really listen, please?”
Pausing for a moment, Tanya sighs and settles back down.
Then blinks as Happiny presses a forehead against hers.
“W-”
“Shhh!” She whispers. “Listen!”
With that, she closes her eyes and Tanya obliges, if only to humor her sibling. After a moment, she also puts an eye to her more esoteric senses, if only because being in such close proximity to a spell migh-
She begins to hum.
And immediately that something else is there too, even louder than before.
After a sluggish second, Tanya’s analytical mind gets to work. Seizing the opportunity, she withdraws into herself to-
So cold-
Her sister’s gently swaying side to side, pulling Tanya along in the same motions.
She tries to break it down again, identify the sensation, but.
The gun cotton sparkes like fireflies.
It feels so-
co-
-familiar?
She pulls Tanya closer, swaying as the quiet hum fills her bones.
What is this?
Her sister’s right there, so close it's impossible to forget. A promise so profound it’s etched into reality, fundamental as gravity.
Beyond even magic, something more.
It’s…
Tanya’s breathing slows.
…warm.
She breathes, then opens her eyes and realizes she’s singing along, her own magic vibrating in tandem.
Tanya doesn't know how long they sat like that, the original song discarded as they spiral together, a mirrored dance into the unknown. Singing a song that’s unique, just for them.
But eventually, all things must end, and this song ends with Tanya tackled with a hug, the force teetering her back until she almost falls over.
“We did it!” Happiny cheers, wiggling with excitement as she squeezes harder.
Tanya smiles at the joy, the residual feeling of magic still warm in her chest.
“So we did.” She says evenly, giving a light hug in return to satisfy her sister.
After another few seconds Happiny releases her grip and steps back.
Standing up as well, Tanya reaches out for a handshake.
“Thanks for the help.” She says, trying to re-establish some basic decorum.
Happiny ignores the offered arm and gives another quick hug.
“Love you.” She says simply, with a squeeze.
Letting go, she steps back and, seeing something somewhere behind Tanya, waddles off without another word.
Tanya finds herself initiating a statue, staring at the spot where her sister used to be. Her normally buzzing thoughts completely silent.
After a moment, something inside Tanya’s mind whirs into action with an almost audible clunk.
That declaration isn't a surprise. Not a single one of her sisters has ever hid how they feel about each other.
In fact they’re painfully open about it at times.
But…
Continuing to stare at the empty spot in front of her, Tanya realizes she’s singing to herself. Swaying back and forth slightly as the flowing magic evokes a sense of warmth deep in her soul.
—--
–_–
—--
Adjusting her purple nurses hat, Chansey sighs as she looks down to her most stress inducing charge.
The Happiny in question gazes back with as much seriousness and focus possible with such a small body, like every word Chansey’s about to say are the most important things in the entire world.
Which is still the most adorable thing she’s ever seen. No matter how many times that gaze is directed her way.
It’s almost enough to offset the stress of what’s about to happen.
Leaning down, Chansey adjusts and fidgets with her Happiny, straightening the little head tuft then rubbing away a residual sleepy seed from her eye and some peanut butter from the corners of her mouth.
Unfortunately her charge has gotten much more accommodating with the treatment since she’d first hatched, so she doesn't even blink, let alone scowl indignantly.
But eventually, there’s nothing else for Chansey to fuss over, so she puts an arm on both her charges shoulders and stares into her oh so serious eyes.
“You be sure to tell someone if he’s playing too rough, alright?” She asks, almost desperately.
The little face has the audacity to look confused.
“Alright?” Happiny almost asks.
Chansey starts to say something, to press her and ensure she understands. But stops herself at the last possible moment.
Because this little Happiny in particular has the rather stressful habit of taking her word as indisputable fact.
Any request –or perceived request– will inevitably be obeyed with the same diligence her charge takes to every other part of her short life.
If she got it into her head that ‘Caretaker’ wants her to stop fighting, she would.
No matter how much it’d hurt her.
Taking a deep breath, Chansey puts on a brave face with a smile.
“Well!” She exclaims as she straightens with a clap. “Have fun!”
Her Happiny nods and turns on the spot, walking away from her and into the play yard.
To the untrained eye her wanderings look random, but Chansey notes she’s always close to a flat spot, perfect for a battle, and in full view of as many ‘mon as possible.
Never approaching someone to challenge, but always in the perfect spot if someone were to happen to challenge her.
The little battler doesn't have to wait long. Before she can even make it to the arena an orange blur is already shooting across the yard, throwing clawfulls of grass and dirt in his wake.
Starting her rounds at a respectful distance, Chansey considers how, nearly a year ago when she’d first seen that fire in her charge’s eye she’d not considered the challenges of caring for a battler Happiny.
The two rivals arrive to the flat area at the exact same moment and the torchic doesn't waste even a second, leaping across the final distance for his opening strike with the burning fervor endemic of his species.
Her Happiny blocks without hesitation, and the battle is joined. A fight so regular that there's already a crowd of challengers and spectators alike drawing closer.
It used to just be Torchic fighting her hatchling but, over the months as more and more challengers join in, an informal Gym has slowly filled out both in ranks and hierarchy. With her little battler the indisputable Gym leader.
Most never get past Torchic, but of the five ‘mon who’ve challenged her Happiny only Torchic has ever beaten her.
The memory of her charge’s face when she’d first found herself in the dirt tested Chansey’s professional courtesy to its limits, but she’d managed to hold on.
It wouldn't do for her to insult or discourage her little battler.
The nurse nervously adjusts her hat as she watches the fighting grow ever more intense. The familiar rhythm of blocks and strikes forming in even this amateur battle.
She’s a professional, and in her career she’s worked in the nurseries of every line of ‘mon in the Hoenn Joy compound and beyond. Hatchlings battling one another is nothing new.
But…
The Nurse looks around at all her other Happiny, sitting and playing amongst each other, occasionally with one or two from the other nurseries. A few of the more adventurous are gently splashing in the water of the lake, only after getting both permission and supervision of course.
She looks back at her Happiny as she uses her nearly spherical body to roll past the torchic’s attack and defect the followup peck with an arm. Throwing a pound with the opposite limb that’s batted aside with a wing.
Chansey’s had energetic Happiny before, she’d worked in a pichu nursery when she and her partner lived in Paldea.
She has never seen a hatchling devote so much time to being busy.
One idle statement from the Happiny considering how she needs ‘more mobility options’ and a long stare at her siblings rolling down a hill in a simple game turns into hours of practice. Rolling in every direction from every stance until she literally couldn't stand from dizziness.
Spending every spare minute and thought on the battlers question.
“How could I have done better?”
She doesn't even rest when she’s idle. As whenever she works herself to the point of exhaustion it’s always a beedrill-line to Chansey and, upon sitting down with a food bowl in hand, starts flooding her with questions.
Nothing’s off topic when her little battler’s in an inquisitive mood; from Chansey’s job, to her finances, to the state of the world at large. She treats the pursuit of knowledge just like her physical training.
But her most strange fascination are the increasingly advanced questions on economics.
Before her little Battler entered Chansey’s life, she didn't think about economics very often.
Or ever, really.
Not anymore.
Now whenever she gets home it's straight to the books after the household chores. Speeding through dry, boring, academic texts on economic history, theory, and mathematics.
So much mathematics.
She shudders.
Chansey hadn't used to read much, in fact she found the process rather dull.
She used to think the single page of drug interactions for certain medications was a hefty read.
Now she’s reading a three hundred page thesis paper by a duo team of economic forecasters who, working with their partners, –a xatu and an alakazam– predicted and helped prevent a massive subprime mortgage bubble.
And she understood it!
Chansey’s distracted from her musing by the torchic almost overwhelming her Happiny by the simple fact that he’s faster. Sending blow after blow too quickly for the battler to counter.
For a moment it looks like her charge is going to lose.
But in an all or nothing move, her battler allows several blows to land in order to finally get a hold of a kicking leg, then lifts.
The torchic rises into the air, flapping and struggling in panic as Happiny throws her opponent above her head and slams him into the ground opposite.
He starts to struggle-
She does it again.
He stops struggling.
Releasing the leg, she steps back with a wobble that shatters Chansey’s self control. Rushing over, she calls on her aura for a healing pulse, then twists the move slightly to affect them both.
As the healing light soaks into her charge, the Happiny’s slightly… intense smile from the battle fades into her usual neutral expression.
Though she does give a chirrup of pleasure despite her face remaining unchanged.
Which is still adorable.
“Thank you Ca’retaker” She says with the tiniest bit of lisp, almost completely faded from her hatchling days.
Chansey rubs scuff off her cheek.
“You get so messy.”
Her charge gently leans her head away from the fussing.
“It’d be more efficient if you taught me how t’do that.” Gestures at green balls of light. “Then you could spend yo’ur time on more impo-” She starts, but Chansey interrupts this incorrect line of thought with as stern a voice as she can manage.
“Nothing is more important than this.” She says, allowing no ambiguity.
Seeing both her charge and the slowly standing torchic are healed. She gives her little battler a smile and a head pat.
“I’ll teach you when you’re older. Promise.” She assures.
Her Happiny gives a serious nod.
Admittedly, with all the training, her aura is probably strong enough to learn to heal safely. But even besides the rules, some part of Chansey worries the little battler would figure out how to heal herself, start training, and never stop.
Suddenly Happiny’s eyes snap to something happening behind the nurse, and before she can turn around her battler gives a hurried ‘excuse me’ and rushes off.
By the time Chansey shakes off her surprise and turns around, she finds whatever happened to have already concluded, though from the aftermath it’s not hard to determine what.
A short distance away, under the shade of a tree, she’d noticed earlier that a group of happiny were gathering to play a game of Ducklet Ducklet Ditto.
But, about halfway between the now anxious gathering and the crowd watching the battle, the Happiny getting the game together is lying on the ground, her small stone a short distance away.
From long experience Chansey can tell, at just a glance, her charge is startled and quickly on her way to breaking down in tears.
The apparent cause of this tableau –a mudkip she recognizes as a regular fighter– is being bodily dragged by her little battler towards the tree.
All the training and fighting has given her an appetite to match, and as a consequence her charge is a big girl. With almost fifteen centimeters and four kilograms on any of her batchmates at last measuring.
Assessing all this in under a second, Chansey prioritizes the most important part of the scene, rushing over to her fallen Happiny and picking up the dropped stone, meanwhile her battler slams the mudkip against the tree with a crack.
A quick once-over shows her fallen Happiny is uninjured, just shaken up. So, handing back the stone, she begins humming a calming song as she watches her Battler press the ‘mon harder against the tree out the corner of her eye.
Chansey’s current tactics prove insufficient when the frightened sniffles come out. Stepping it up, she lifts her charge into her arms and sends out a soft heal pulse.
The little battler leans in, saying something to the rapidly paling mudkip too quietly for Chansey to hear.
Thankfully the heal pulse seems to do the trick, averting the crisis. With a big sniff, her charge grabs the rock, gently hugs it, and puts it back in her pouch.
Mentally, Chansey sets aside some time and talk to her gently hiccuping charge, to reveal one of the world's harshest truths.
It’s about that time anyways, when her charges grow up enough that she needs to explain how they're fundamentally different from almost all other ‘mon in the world, and by that simple fact she’ll always be… isolated on some level from any other creature but her own kind.
Even their eventual partner, no matter how much they love each other and how hard each side will try.
Sure she won't phrase it like that, but her own Matron’s words still echoed in her ears every time a team arrived in her old station at a Paldea pokecenter, battered and bruised, angry or joyous, but always content.
How their stories of near defeat or glorious victory trailed off into confused silence at Chansey’s wide, anxious eyes.
Back at the tree, after appearing to get the message across to her satisfaction, her little battler throws the ‘mon to the ground.
Though perhaps the description undersells the action.
The ‘mon remains in the air for a solid three seconds and bounces twice.
After he comes to a stop, the thoroughly frightened mudkip rises to shaking legs and runs as fast as possible in the opposite direction.
But as her little battler turns to watch Chansey has to suppress a tiny shiver as her face becomes visible.
Fury.
So pure it’s beyond any outward expression, resulting in a nearly placid gaze while something behind her eyes makes reasoned calculations. To bring every resource at its disposal to bear for the sole purpose of causing as much possible misery to its target.
But as her gaze turns to her Caretaker and sister, that bottomless hate fades away.
Noting Torchic staring from the crowd of onlookers she abandoned, Happiny starts making her way back, giving a nod to Chansey as she passes by.
“Thank you mo- Ca’retaker.” She says, expression shifting into a comical mix of embarrassment and horror.
It takes a second for the half word to catch up, and by that time she’s already run off and launched herself back into her battle with Torchic.
But when it does Chancey has to restrain herself from squealing as she comforts her still fragile charge.
So cute!
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A/N: Backlog! Cuteness! Love!
ENJOY
Comments
Yobikir
Of all the Chapers so far, this one's my favorite.
