Quoted By:
>You couldn’t blame Zoroark; you really couldn’t.
>The pokémon spent over a decade disguising her actual appearance from you.
>It was more than a personality quirk, it was something instinctual.
>It took years to build up the courage it took to show you she was a pokémon, not a human.
>But revealing herself to a stranger?
>Downright unthinkable.
>Absurd.
>Foolish.
>You heard everything from her.
>And you sympathized with her.
>You understood keeping her human disguise up in public.
>But not wanting to see a physician at the Pokémon Center?
>You didn’t know what to do.
>She wouldn’t budge, not at first.
>Slowly but surely, her attitude changed over the months with your gentle probing.
>”Only in an emergency” soon became “Only for my favorite foods.”
>Hearing she’d live longer if she got regular checkups was a strong persuader.
>That was good enough for you.
>”Alright... And do you have her pokéball with you?”
“Yes.”
>You showed the receptionist the white premier ball.
>”Perfect. Check here.”
>You checked the box.
>”Sign and date here.”
>You did so.
>”Thank you!”
>”The nurse is with a trainer right now. Please, have a seat. Shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes.”
>She gestured at the waiting room strewn with all manner of magazines.
>You cupped Zoroark’s pokéball in both hands as you sat down.
>Should’ve invested in a backpack.
>Darn thing was too large to fit in your pants pocket, and you weren’t keen on carrying a purse with you.
>Despite it working when you left the house, you didn’t trust your belt to hang onto the pokéball.
>She so rarely had to get in her ball, it was surreal to transport her like this.
>But she couldn’t exactly waltz in with her human disguise and get checked out, lifelike as her illusions seemed.
>That, and people would know the truth.
>You wondered how the public would react to finding out the chipper girl you’re always with was actually Zoroark.
>The thought was unsettling.
>But the thought of losing the pokéball terrified you more.
