Pokemon: Kanto Elite

Poke-Center

Morning woke her to shivers and a massive headache. Her entire body shook, and her head felt like it slept next to lava.

She couldn't believe it! Was she sick? Now? Two months before the Qualifiers?!

Her pokemon sensed something was wrong. Her Dodrio, the guard for the night, peeked into the tent with one head. Luckily it was the sad-faced one.

"Hey. I..."

Her sneeze scared it behind the curtain of the tent.

"I think I'm sick. We need to get to a PokeCenter, soon." Dodrio's three heads crowed simultaneously as she gathered everything together.

The three-headed pokemon kept watching as she swore in frustration over the tent.

"Why did I have to buy the worst tent ever made? Easy to build, it said. Never said anything about taking it apart again..."

After a few sneezes and the snapping of parts, the tent was packed. Slowly, almost in a haze, Delia slipped on the simple saddle for her bird and rode Route 3 to Pewter City.

When Delia rode, however, she rode faster than an eye can blink. She never liked flying, so she decided to ride the most unconventional bird for the challenge when given the idea. Of course, a Doduo walked across her path as she tried removing a rock from her shoe.

After training it to battle and carry a saddle, she used her Doduo, and eventually Dodrio, as a two-legged all-terrain supercar, jettisoning her across the map of Kanto. Within months she had seen every corner of the map, seen every cliffside and forest, cave and mountain.

All of that cold, sharp air, long days of training, and short nights must have gotten to her. She put all her effort into her grip on the reins, forcing herself to sit straight and hold on for dear life.

Within minutes, Dodrio had stopped in front of the Poke-Center and cooed at its trainer. Delia slumped off of her ride, called it back into its comfortable ball for a rest, and barely made it to the front desk.

A young girl, dressed in pink and white, turned her chair to greet the new trainer.

"Name please?"

"Delia Arvaniti. You?"

The question shocked both of them.

"Oh, um, Joy. You can call me Nurse Joy. What can I do for you? Would you like to heal your Pokemon?"

Delia slumped forward onto the counter.

"Can I get a doctor? I think I'm sick."

Nurse Joy did a double-take and noticed Delia's chills.

"You definitely look sick. I'll see if there's a specialist available. Just sit down over there, and I'll call you over when I know."

She barely remembered sitting down. Her backpack had somehow appeared off of her back and onto the floor next to her, while her head hung off of the headrest.

"Ms. Arvaniti?"

She snorted awake, her red hair strewn across her face. Nurse Joy stood above her, clipboard in hand.

"We have a specialist here ready for you. We need you to sign a few forms. Your parents have been informed of where you are and are paying for you to stay here. Just sign these forms, and we can treat you."

She barely remembered signing anything before gathering her things, dragging herself into the other room, where she heard a Doctor tell her one phrase before truly passing out.

"You have the flu, Delia. No training for you, not for another week..."

She awoke again, but when no one was around. The sun finished climbing and started to descend. She was still in her dirty jeans and sweatshirt. Her pokeball belt was on the other side of the room, next to her gear.