“Neeext!”

 

It was finally Henry’s turn to step up to bat. The guards gave him a quick frisk, checking his satchel and opening his brown coat. They even checked the dozen pockets he had on the front. Seeing such vigor from the men and women who would be his protection for the next year was reassuring.

 

The one who blew the whistle pointed him in with his thumb.

 

The Security Hall–or, at least, the entrance–was a massive space beneath a canopy. It would take seven Seviper stretched full-length to reach the ceiling. Painted across its vast expanse was a mural, depicting men walking alongside silhouettes of Arcanine and Growlithe. In the center of it all, the University Emblem–a blue stamp showcasing the fabled “Mélange Flower” said to reside in the deepest bowels of a Nouveau jungle. Wrapping around this flower and tasting the sky was the Heavenly Serpent. Oh, how exhilarating it must feel to come and go amongst the stars as it did. Perhaps someday Man would reach that level of engineering.

 

“Next, next, next!” In all his daydream, Henry had forgotten it was his turn.

 

The counter along the right wall stretched from corner to doorway–the door leading deeper into the facility.

 

Sitting ready with his papers in her hand was a woman who bore a fat mole atop her lip. Beside her infinite stack of handouts was an odd device quite similar to a camera, but it looked a little too chunky.

 

“Look into the lens, smile if you want to.”

 

He didn’t even have the chance to prepare himself. A devious Flash burst from the device and left his vision star-spangled.

 

“Take this, fill this one out once you decide on a dorm and roommate, fill this one out by the end of Forge Week, keep this one for yourself–that’s the handbook, and make sure you give this one to your designated guidance counselor before the weekend, whom will be told to you by your printed I.D. sometime in the middle of the week. Next!”

 

Well, that was quick.

 

Henry froze before the back door. There, just beyond such fragile barriers, his new future lay. He took a deep breath, pulled his satchel close, and felt the sunlight on his skin.

 

It somehow felt warmer with all the murmur and laughter around him.

 

“There you are! Why’d you take so long?” asked Percy, who appeared to be loitering about.

 

“Oh? I didn’t know you were waiting for me. Don’t you need to find a shelf for your ‘babies’~”

 

Percy adjusted his glasses. “In a moment, but I figured now would be a good time to check off the ‘find roommate’ tally.” He swung a decisive finger towards Henry, nearly poking him in the eye. “You will fill that role!”

 

Henry pointed to his own face. “Me?”

 

“You.”

 

He cast a glance over Percy’s shoulder. “And all your books?”

 

“Babies.”

 

“As long as we all fit, I’ve got no objections.”

 

Percy turned on his heel. “Excellent! Now, let our next objective commence! Firstly, we’ll need to claim a dorm. I’m thinking, something not too far from the Southern Wing so as to optimize our travel time to and from class. It also shouldn’t be too close South, as that will leave our room a blistering inferno for most of the day. It also shouldn’t be too far North, as the evening sun is just plain annoying. Soooo, I’m thinking something middle of the track–closer East than West, preferably, with ample space for you, me, and all my knowledge. Sound good?”

 

A solid plan. But they would need to start searching quick. “We’ll have to beat everyone else if you want something that specific.”

 

“Then what are you wasting time yapping for? Let’s move it!”

 

No amount of running would have ever compensated for such a late start. Even a Torkoal could beat a Jolteon given a long enough strip of headway. The North Wing was already overflowing with other people. As was the East Wing. And the West Wing.

 

“Damn it all!” groaned Percy, “I’m sure the girls’ dorms are nowhere near as cluttered!”

 

Henry keeled over to catch his breath. They had been running laps for the last fifteen minutes. Any old empty room just wasn’t good enough for Percy the Epicurean. He wanted his perfect room, but those were all taken by they who praised the ancient saying “first come, first serve.”

 

“Maybe—we could try—asking someone to trade rooms with us?”

 

“Don’t be sill–” Percy played with his glasses, driving a harsh beam of glare across the walls. “Actually, that could work. Let’s claim lousy old 104 here and really sell the Muk out of her!”

 

Proposition after proposition, each ended in a resounding “no.” 

 

104? Dude. That’s, like, shoved right between Emette and Beau. I’m not smelling those two for a whole year.

 

104? And give up this view? Chy’yeah right!

 

Sorry bros. I wouldn’t mind it, but this window gives me the perfect view of my girlfriend across the way. Try asking next door?

 

“I change my mind,” Percy voiced, “Terrible idea, new roomy. That’s one strike on your card.”

 

Henry fell against the wall; he wasn’t built for all this running around. “I’m being scored?”

 

“You weren’t up until ten minutes ago when you proposed such a preposterous proposition.”

 

Henry scanned the hall for a friendly face. Anyone, if anyone in the West Wing was willing to make a deal–be a real upstanding gent.

 

One smile caught his attention, from a guy with brown skin and black hair draped down to his central spine.

 

He tapped the soul on his shoulder, interrupting a discussion between him and another.

 

“Excuse my intrusion, but my friend and I would just like to ask something of you?”

The Friendly Smile beamed down on him–this man was a giant, a walking Tyranitar forged of human flesh. “Sure, what’s up!”

 

“We were wondering if you’d be willing to make a trade of rooms? We’re stuck with 104 and while I don’t have any issues with it, my roommate dreads his nights there.”

 

“Please, kind soul,” Percy fell to his knees, his backpack weighing down on him like a Donphan’s foot. “My spine cries out for your mercy–I implore you! Spare this sorry–but irresistibly dashing and brilliant–nerd from his own self-inflicted misery!”

 

Henry assisted Percy’s showing with a twisty smile. It was the least he could do.

 

Friendly drifted from face to face, then, he laughed–a hearty, gut-busting laugh. “Ah man, I already know who I’m voting for class clown this year! I just hope I can get a double-page spread!”

 

Percy grunted and mumbled off of his knees. “Well, to reject us is one thing, but to laugh in our faces, another! Good day to you sir! Come on, Henry!”

 

“What?! No, no, you guys can have the room! I’m laughing at your act–you’re a real comedian!”

 

Percy sprinted to Friendly’s smile, getting right up in his face. “Really?!”

 

Friendly slapped a meaty hand down on his shoulder. “Yeah, man! You guys seem alright! You said 104? Good. Between you, me, Elliott behind me, and your buddy here: the farther I can get from Forge Ambrose, the better my year is gonna be. If anything, you dudes just saved my life and gave me a good laugh. So consider us friends!”

 

Another slap on the shoulder buckled Percy’s knees a bit. “Oh—ditto. Henry, let’s move in immediately. My legs are about to snap…”

 

Friendly roared again. “See! That’s what I mean! Oh yeah, I definitely need to see more of you two. Just consider me your personal Upperclassman for the rest of the year!”

 

Henry honed in on Friendly’s outfit. Upon second glance, he was indeed already donned in the St.Leonora’s brand, indicating prior attendance. Most notable was the shiny silver patch on the shoulder of his blue blazer. It bore the shape of a trophy, sketched to bear a wicked smile like that of a Gengar.

 

“Theodore Theagenes,” he introduced, scooping both Percy and Henry into his massive wingspan. “Ex Vice Captain of the Gladiators Club and certified scouter for good vibes! Reach out if any questions start messing with ya, or if any of the other Freshmen try to get uppity!”

 

An Uproar began to fill the hall as those who claimed their rooms piled back out to celebrate the newfound freedom coursing through their veins.

 

“And good luck with this Wing!”

 

With that, Theodore vanished into the stream of rambunctious young adults, leaving Percy to gawk at his prize.

 

“Henry?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You get two marks off your card.”

 

“Glad I could help~”

 

Great philosopher Artemis Wingstrum once wrote in his tome Peaks & Valleys that “Joy is often a precursor to pain and struggle. This is almost a universal fact, recognized even by Pokémon on an intuitive level. The Swablu will always avoid cleaning his new coat when he senses rain in the air; the Arbok won’t eat a fresh meal if he senses another predator afoot. To feel joy is to expect pain. It may not come immediately, but it will come.”

 

And boy did Percy’s pain come. In the excitement of everyone whooping, hollering; chanting, and throwing their bodies around, someone collided with him–full force–sending him and his shell to the floor. The flap of his bag came undone, and a dozen or so books spewed out. He immediately took to stuffing as many as his reach allowed back and away from harm.

“Damn it, Henry, don’t just stand there! Back up you Rapscallions!”  

 

Henry reached for a book titled A Journey Through The Unknown of The Known: A Deep Analysis of Our World’s Mythos. Before his fingers could even kiss the leather, a shoe stomped down hard on the cover. The book flew against the wall, and the unlucky tripper tumbled to the floor.

 

And she was not happy.

 

“Owww! Damn it! You gross jerks can’t even wait an hour before you start trashing up the halls?! Whose book is that?!”

 

“That would be mine, you heavy-footed clutz!” And Percy was right there to meet her, bouncing her fury back like a Mirror Coat. He crawled between legs and crotch to reclaim his soiled baby. “There-there, my precious…You should be ashamed!”

 

“I should be ashamed?! The Granbull who steps on the tail of the Persian, should not be perplexed when he receives a flurry of Fury Swipes as penance!”

 

“Meaning?!”

 

“Meaning, you’re lucky I don’t slap you halfway to Johto right now!” Miss Not Happy kicked another book into the wall. “Clean this up before I report your entire dorm to Mr.Gideon!”

 

With a flick of her fiery hair and a squeak from her heels, Miss Not Happy stormed off down the hall, fading behind a crowd of hoots and hollers.

 

“YEAH, WELL, I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHO THAT IS–SO THREAT WASTED!!!” Percy shouted after her, but she was long gone. “Tch! What’d I tell you, Henry? Mummy and daddy’s money. Bunch of elitists who think the Universe revolves around them.”

 

Lying among Percy’s crying books was a brown, dented ball. Henry picked it up. It was cold. It had a crank up top, and two gears balanced on each side.

 

“I think she dropped something.”

 

Percy gave the item one glance and laughed. “Ha! In all her rage and ‘bravado’ that stupid-idiot dropped her Bronze Ball! Serves her right!” With his children secure, he shoved the door to his and Henry’s new room. “Come on, let’s get moved in.”

 

Henry rotated the Ball in his hand. He had never seen anything like it back at home. “We should return this first.”

 

“Pfft! Yeah, ok. You can go and do that. Meanwhile, I’ll actually be doing what’s important and moving us in.” Percy beckoned for Henry’s satchel. “Hand it over. I’ll find somewhere nice for it, and when you’re done being the knight in shining armour it’ll be right in here waiting for you.” 

 

Henry lifted the strap over his head, catching on a tuft of hair. 

 

Wanting to return that girl’s item had nothing to do with being “the knight.” It was simply a matter of principle. 

 

What else was a man to do?