Tia prepares to leave Azalea Town to start her research trip.
“Change of clothes, check. Money, check. Medicine, check. Poke Balls…”
Tia sighed, and let out a deep yawn. It was one thing to have to wake up early for a research trip, but to spend the previous night cramming to prepare for it was another. She picked up a bag that was full of shrunken Apricorn Poke Balls.
She had nearly pulled an all-nighter to finish crafting 350 specialty Balls, 50 of each of the seven that Kurt offered to trainers, to use for her research. She looked at the bag of Balls in exasperation and stuffed them into the Ball pocket of her pack. “Poke Balls, check.” She then looked in the direction of her ever-curious Natu.
“Okay, Naito,” She picked up and expanded the custom Poke Ball she had crafted and painted just for him. “Inside!”
“Tut!” Naito tweeted. He shined a bright red, disappearing into the ball.
Tia looked at the ball for a moment. It was painted sea green and white, with violet accents, showing off Naito’s unusual coloring. She had based the outer design on a Lure Ball, but with the interior of a Friend Ball to make Naito as comfortable as possible. She shrank the Naito Ball and hooked it onto her belt.
She slung her Pokegear around her neck. She had bought it, fully upgraded, before arriving in Azalea Town to work with Kurt, and it had sat unused since. It would come in handy now.
She turned it on and saw that there were only two numbers in the contacts. The Pokemon League, and Bill. She recognized Bill as the inventor of the Pokemon Storage System.
“I’ll definitely need the Pokemon Storage System number,” Tia said to herself, “but the Pokemon League?” She thought a moment. “Interesting, but probably useless since I’m not a Trainer.”
She opened the main section of her pack and slid the Pokedex inside, along with her laptop and the parts of her portable workstation. She also packed in a portable Poke Ball crafting kit. No point in running back to Azalea Town more than she needed to when it came to crafting more Poke Balls.
She closed her pack, slipped it on, then pocketed the key to her small rented room in the basement of the Charcoal Kiln. She spied the unused kilns in the corner of the room, smelled the aroma of burnt charcoal wafting in from upstairs, and smiled to herself. The smell, especially, would be something she wouldn’t miss.
She looked around one last time, making sure she wasn’t forgetting anything, then climbed the stairs and left the room, turning off the lights.