The air in your lungs hurt. Suddenly, you found it very difficult to move. Your limbs ached excessively, but not in comparison to your dried-up eyes. You felt horrible.
"Ori," you heard your Oricorio call on you, her voice sounded more hushed than usual, "Oricorio, co." Her swaying pink body danced towards you, cautiously eyeing you with her mundane expression. She didn't chirp out a word at your aching body, and the only source of noise accompanying the both of you was the faint music echoing from your earbuds on a far away table. You didn't know if your Oricorio was expecting a command or genuinely taunting you up close.
After a while, the bitter air in your lungs gradually was replaced with freshness, and your throat hydrated itself enough for you to speak -- at least in a low tone. "Florence, baby, what happened?" you interrogated. The only response you got was a slow and depressing hum.
She turned her back at you and twirled towards a cracked Ultra Ball on the floor -- her Pokéball. However, there were no other Pokéballs around her. Your other four Pokémon were missing.
You shifted, groaning as you heard your bones pop to life in an unwilling manner. Automatically, your fingers aimed for your nose, feeling a sticky substance stuck on your skin. Blood.
Focusing on the walls of your own home, it was mostly pulverized or caved in. Any part of the wall still intact had graffiti of all kinds of Pokémon -- Ekans, Salandit, Zubat, and so on. It was obvious of whom intruded your home, but why? You knew you had the answer buried in the back of your mind. There was no point in thinking about it either.
"Ori," you hear Oricorio call out again in an urgent tone.
You averted your attention to her poking at the large cracks decorating your kitchen floor. All of them had multi-colored slime residue painted in the insides and out. Before you could mention anything, Florence lets out a soft chirp, crouching to see if she could find anything in the dark sliver.
Him. He did this. He brought over his little gang and tore your house apart. Everything. Not only that but he robbed the Pokémon you have owned for years. And ironically enough, he left you with Oricorio. At the very least, you thanked the fact that he left her untouched. But whatever truly happened in your home, Florence already knows. More than you, anyways. Right now, you were trying to piece together what Florence was trying to hint at. It's useless, you thought to yourself. Team Skull had done it, no other person or group could have done anything related to this towards you.
The music emitting from your earbuds eventually stopped without you realizing as you grabbed your empty bag where all the Pokéballs went. You shakenly gripped on the cracked Ultra Ball and extended your arm so you can put Florence back inside. You already felt dirty just holding it. It didn't feel right.
Your Oricorio glanced up at you with her half-lidded eyes, her eyes didn't seem to twinkle as it used to. "No." That's the vibe you were getting from her. She's not willing to go back inside.
"Please. I can't lose you too."
"No."
This vibe felt a lot stronger, her deadpanned eyes shifted into a more furious one, as if she was scolding you inside her head. "Ri." she tugs on your leg with her soft feathers, pointing at the unhinged front door of your home. Moonlight seeped through the opening and gleamed on the tiles. "Corio."
Frustrated, you shoved the fractured Ultra Ball inside your bag. "Fine. But I'm carrying you. You're too small, I can easily lose sight of you." you rasp out and luckily, Florence tweeted in agreement, hopping into your sore arms.
Your house was left vulnerable, but you couldn't afford to let Florence stay behind. Either way, it seems that you have to move to a secondary location until you can find a new home. Or if construction workers were able to repair the damage, but it would costs too much to rebuild than to start anew.
"We're going to Po Town." you announce, gritting your teeth as you strolled down the cold yet tanned trail. Florence hums, as if knowing your destination. "We're going get back what he stole. One way or another."
The air felt pleasant against your skin, almost blanketing it. The trail felt like it extended so much. This just didn't feel right.
"I should've known," you start up again, "that people don't change."
Florence said nothing, she did not even attempt to move in your tight arms. She's concentrating, thinking to herself. Those thoughts were never said aloud. She let the glow of the moon calm her down and cool her feathers, hoping that the moon would have the same effect on you. A new thought popped up inside her little head. This felt wrong, yes, for even Florence could sense it, too.
But what was wrong?