The forest surrounding Iki town and the southern slopes of Mahalo Mountain was densely covered in ferns and choked with crawling vines wherever sunlight poked through. Nearly all of it was strange to Azophi, and they found themselves stopping to marvel at leaves as large as their torso or a sprawling skeletal structure Makani had called a ‘ficus’. All of which made it harder to keep pace with the brother, or rather not slow them down since they paused whenever they noticed Azophi falling behind.

Still, Azophi would rather not risk being separated. The Kahili’s seemed to know where they were going even without a clear trail, whereas Azophi couldn’t even tell which way they had come anymore. They almost wished the Kahili’s had roused them from bed absurdly early again—instead of the more civilized hour Azophi had insisted on—so that there would at least be an angle to the light to judge direction.

Nerium was slow on the uneven terrain, but he managed to walk surprisingly well on those ungainly flippers. He could even run after a fashion, though it was more an awkward, rolling lope.

Meanwhile, Makani’s Rowlet swept through the tangled branches above them with uncanny precision and quiet, and Hau’s pitch-black Litten melted in and out of the undergrowth like a darting shadow. Yet despite their best efforts—and Nerium’s determined snuffling—they hadn’t come across a single wild pokemon.

They wandered through yet another grove of berry trees to no avail before moving on. Azophi was again tempted to recall their starter, since it might be all of his noise that was ruining their chances. But the others hadn’t said anything, so Azophi decided not to bring it up.

Azophi had hoped the sun might scorch off some of the humidity, but if anything it made the whole affair all the more uncomfortable. They tripped and nearly collided with Dax as the Rotom floated carelessly around their heads like an orbiting satellite.

“Are there any actual pokemon in these woods, or is this whole thing some kind of practical joke?” Azophi demanded.

Dax swiveled to face them, and threw a map up on their display, littered with largely indecipherable little pokemon icons. “This area contains at least twenty documented species.”

“Thanks, Dax.” Azophi had spent enough quality time with the Rotom to know that the little shit was being obtuse on purpose. “Better question: how do we make the pokemon come to us?”

“Most wild pokemon will only approach trainers if they want a battle. Some because they know that battling trainers is a safer way to become stronger, others because they wish to be captured and trained.” Dax recited like a text to voice bot reading a wiki page—because they probably were. “Merely making our presence known should be sufficient to lure willing participants,” they concluded smugly.

“Okay.” Azophi filled their lungs and bellowed out their frustration at the top of their voice: “ARE THERE ANY DANG POKEMON IN THIS DANG JUNGLE WHO WANT TO BATTLE ME?!”

Hau and Makani clapped their hands over their ears, but after the shock had passed, removed them to listen while they all peered around for some kind of response. Nearly a minute passed in absolute silence and Azophi slumped.

A flash of red darted through their peripheral vision and they tracked it in time to see a small bird land on their bag. Before they could even get excited, the wild grabbed an omamori in their sharp beak and ripped it off before taking to the air.

Azophi’s reaction was instant and automatic. They grabbed a pokeball and hurled it at the fleeing thief.

“Not so fast, you little bastard!”

Azophi’s aim was true and the pokemon was sucked into the ball in a flash of red light. Azophi crowed in triumph as the ball fell. At least they didn’t have more bad luck to worry about.

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” said Hau, arms behind his head in what Azophi had come to categorize as a shrug. “Nice aim.”

Azophi turned back from fetching their ball to find an almost pained expression on Makani’s face. Great. They’d really been hoping for pride. It took a few seconds of solid eye-contact to get him to spit it out.

“I know this isn’t the way it’s done in Johto, but in Alola, trainers usually ask pokemon to join their teams.”

“Unless the pokemon asks them,” Dax chimed, “which also occurs at a much higher rate in Alola as compared to most other regions.”

Like needing to get their starter’s approval wasn’t enough of a hurdle, now they needed to do it for every pokemon on their team? Maybe they could just tell Makani to—but he was already doing so much for them. And they couldn’t lose him, not now. They had to do this right.

“Alright. I’ll just get my omamori back first and if it doesn’t want to be on my team, I’ll release it.”

Their finger hovered over the button for a second, and Hau must have noticed their apprehension because he spoke up in that unfailingly cheerful tone of his. “Don’t worry. They didn’t pop out. That’s a good sign.”

Azophi would take what they could get. The little bird rematerialized on the forest floor, omamori still clutched in its long, pointed beak. It blinked and spat out the charm in obvious disgust. Azophi squatted down and snatched up their omamori before the thing could change its mind. It tilted its head to glare up at them with one beady eye and Azophi glared right back.

Hau laughed. “Probably thought it was food!”

“Is that it? Are you hungry, ya little asshole?”

The pokemon cocked its head to regard Azophi with its other eye. Azophi reached into their bag and pulled out a crispy rice roll. The greedy little bugger perked up instantly, tail bobbing in excitement.

“Pikipek live in family groups and drill holes in trees to store extra food.” Not for the first time, Azophi wished that Dax’s facts were a bit more pertinent to training, but at least this tidbit gave them something to go on. If they had to buy their first catch, so be it.

They unwrapped the snack and held it out. The Pikipek hopped onto their arm and began drilling into the roll with gusto. Azophi straightened up and turned back to the brothers.

“Is this a yes?”

Dax chirped at the Pikipek and it paused long enough to chirp back before diving back into its meal.

“She says she’ll battle as much as you want as long as there’s more food.”

The Pikipek was small, but its beak looked mean enough, and the stark combination of red, black, and white was a decent enough aesthetic.

“Welcome to the team, Pimento.”