While Satoshi and the others are on Poni Island, a tropical storm is forecast for Melemele Island where the Rocket Gang are staying with Kiteruguma. An unexpected incident results in them accidentally becoming caretakers of a little baby! Just how will they manage?!
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EVERYONE: - Ongoing SM106.5: The Rocket Gang’s Baby?!
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Prologue
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A chair for baby bear
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- Mild injury reference
On the outskirts of Hau’oli city no one would know that it was morning. Dark banks of cloud pressed together, almost totally blocking out the light. Outlined against this ominous sky was the shape of a young woman struggling to navigate a pushchair uphill.
A low rumble of thunder gave her an excuse to stop and look up at a sky pregnant with rain. She wasn’t very far from home, but probably too far to avoid getting wet now. She scowled at the thought and kept walking.
The occupant of the pushchair was a sleeping baby. Looking down, the woman was struck by the baby’s innocent face, blissfully unaware of the storm to come. She unknitted her brows and sighed. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head berating her for her recklessness, “You took the baby out during a storm? Are you crazy girl?!” It was drummed into even the smallest children on Alola to take storm warnings seriously as the climate could turn perilous in the blink of an eye.
She knew it had been rash to go out, but her decision-making faculties were impaired by lack of sleep, having woken every hour overnight to feed. Since the baby only slept at her breast or in motion in the pushchair, waiting inside for the storm to abate would mean a day or more of endless nursing. It felt like a jail sentence. Now or never, she’d thought first thing that morning, looking at the grey skies from their bedroom window, let me just have one nap in peace.
Just as she was slipping on her sandals to leave, the baby started crying again and by the time they’d fed and changed half an hour had passed. At that point she knew she’d missed her window, but the need for air and space felt as strong as her urge to breathe. She chucked the rain cover into the basket under the pushchair and left. It was less than ten minutes to the incline on the path that overlooked the sea. There and back, that was her plan, and then sit on the porch jiggling the pushchair until the baby woke up. That might buy her an hour.
Now, panting on the uphill home, the first large drop of rain splashed against her arm. She scrambled to untangle the sticky plastic rain cover before her baby got wet.
Tears of frustration came unbidden to her eyes as she secured the straps of the rain cover onto the pushchair. “Stupid,” she thought, then stopped herself. “No, I’m not stupid. Just so, so tired.” She bent down to get her own anorak out. “I just need one night’s sleep, so help me!”
As her head emerged through the neck opening of the jacket, she was met with a sight that stopped her in her tracks. Looming in front of her was the guardian deity of Melemele Island, Kapu-Kokeko. Against the dark sky it seemed almost to be illuminated from within. It paused just long enough to meet her eye, then shot into the sky. A blinding flare of lightning erupted from above it and the world went white. The woman dropped to the ground, letting go of the pushchair.
A low rumble of thunder gave her an excuse to stop and look up at a sky pregnant with rain. She wasn’t very far from home, but probably too far to avoid getting wet now. She scowled at the thought and kept walking.
The occupant of the pushchair was a sleeping baby. Looking down, the woman was struck by the baby’s innocent face, blissfully unaware of the storm to come. She unknitted her brows and sighed. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head berating her for her recklessness, “You took the baby out during a storm? Are you crazy girl?!” It was drummed into even the smallest children on Alola to take storm warnings seriously as the climate could turn perilous in the blink of an eye.
She knew it had been rash to go out, but her decision-making faculties were impaired by lack of sleep, having woken every hour overnight to feed. Since the baby only slept at her breast or in motion in the pushchair, waiting inside for the storm to abate would mean a day or more of endless nursing. It felt like a jail sentence. Now or never, she’d thought first thing that morning, looking at the grey skies from their bedroom window, let me just have one nap in peace.
Just as she was slipping on her sandals to leave, the baby started crying again and by the time they’d fed and changed half an hour had passed. At that point she knew she’d missed her window, but the need for air and space felt as strong as her urge to breathe. She chucked the rain cover into the basket under the pushchair and left. It was less than ten minutes to the incline on the path that overlooked the sea. There and back, that was her plan, and then sit on the porch jiggling the pushchair until the baby woke up. That might buy her an hour.
Now, panting on the uphill home, the first large drop of rain splashed against her arm. She scrambled to untangle the sticky plastic rain cover before her baby got wet.
Tears of frustration came unbidden to her eyes as she secured the straps of the rain cover onto the pushchair. “Stupid,” she thought, then stopped herself. “No, I’m not stupid. Just so, so tired.” She bent down to get her own anorak out. “I just need one night’s sleep, so help me!”
As her head emerged through the neck opening of the jacket, she was met with a sight that stopped her in her tracks. Looming in front of her was the guardian deity of Melemele Island, Kapu-Kokeko. Against the dark sky it seemed almost to be illuminated from within. It paused just long enough to meet her eye, then shot into the sky. A blinding flare of lightning erupted from above it and the world went white. The woman dropped to the ground, letting go of the pushchair.
Part 1
New
ii kanji
A chair for baby bear
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The first drop of rain fell against the hollow tree with a solid thunk, loud enough to be heard over the radio broadcast.
“…expected to make landfall on Akala Island imminently. Residents are being urged to remain indoors and avoid travel except where essential. Storm conditions and disruption are also expected on Melemele and Ula’Ula Islands, where caution is advised–”
Nyasu switched off the radio as the rain began to tap out a more convincing beat. “I suppose there’s nyo point taking out the malasada truck today.”
Kojiro didn’t even look up from the mechanism he was tinkering with. “The bulletin said everyone should stay in, right? We won’t make any sales.”
Nyasu wriggled into a more comfortable position. It momentarily occurred to him that he hadn’t even thought to suggest leaving the safety of Kiteruguma’s den to do any work towards their main job as Rocket Gang members, but he let it go – no point getting your paws wet for no reason. It wasn’t that they’d completely given up on their dreams of status and success, but somehow in Alola it was hard to get too worked up about it.
Around him, his friends looked happy and relaxed. Sonansu and Hidoide were trying, and failing, to teach Nuikoguma how to play hide-and-seek. Mimikyu sat proudly in Musashi’s lap as she hemmed its rag. Only Kojiro appeared hard at work – squinting fervently at a tiny screw he was tightening – but with enough of a manic gleam in his eyes for Nyasu to know that he was working on a pet project and not anything useful.
“Hey,” Musashi suddenly looked up and surveyed the space with a dubious expression on her face. “Do you really think this place is safe in a storm? Like, don’t trees get struck by lightning or something?!”
Kojiro was still concentrating on his screw, but there was a definite trace of self-satisfaction in his voice as he answered, “Not this tree, since Nyasu and I installed a lightning conductor when we were fitting it up.”
“Eh, what’s that?”
“It’s a metal rod designed to conduct electricity straight down to earth, bypassing whatever structure it’s been erected to protect.” A tiny pause followed before he looked up at Musashi and added, “In other words, we’ve made the tree safe from lightning strikes.”
“As expected!” Musashi said and her face cleared. She pulled tight at a knot and bit off the end of the thread, before throwing herself backwards with a flourish. “Well, I guess we can take it easy today!”
“Soooooonansu!”
“Hopefully Kiteruguma will be home soon with something nice, nya…”
With no one to hold it, the pushchair rolled over the grassy verge at the edge of the path and down into the forest.
It gathered speed on the descent as its occupant slept on, oblivious. Any manner of hazards could have terminated its course in disaster as it hurtled through the foliage, completely out of control. Perhaps it was the mischievous blessing of the guardian deity that meant it instead bounced against the soft body of a large, pink bear.
Kiteruguma looked down at the errant missile as if it were a leaf that had blown against her leg. She was busy foraging and hardly paid heed to it.
Like many Pokémon, she had an instinct for the weather and how it might affect her natural environment. As such, she knew that this was her last chance to collect food for her family before a period of relative danger. Although the leafy canopy provided some protection, heavy raindrops were reaching the forest floor and lightning had struck very close by just now.
Yes, it would be better to hibernate until this inclement weather passed. And of course, the young ones in her care couldn’t always be trusted to make sensible decisions, which was another reason to get home quickly before anyone made a reckless trip outside that they’d need to be rescued from.
Kiteruguma turned back for her den and was nearly out of earshot when she heard the muffled wail.
She reacted immediately. In a flash she crossed the distance back to the pushchair, dropped her harvest and ripped back the fiddly rain cover to scoop out the pushchair’s cargo.
It was a small, human baby.
She held the baby firmly but with surprising gentleness for so big a bear. It quietened quickly, settling back into sleep, and she knelt then to gather back the food.
The rain was getting heavier. Safety first, it was time to go.
Kiteruguma seemed to have become something of magnet for lost children and did not question the arrival of a new addition to her brood. Who or where its original caretaker might be was, as far as she was concerned, a question for later.
The baby lay nestled amongst fruits as she carried it home.
“Ah, I’m so glad we made it to the store in time! Imagine being stuck inside without any coffee…”
Kukui glanced at his wife with a look of exasperated affection. He was loathe to deprive Burnet of her caffeine fix, but this trip did feel like an unnecessary risk.
It was a relief to know that Satoshi and his other students were safe on Poni Island which was far enough away from the storm’s epicentre to be relatively unaffected. He should be returning there in a few days to collect them and was looking forward to seeing their progress and having Satoshi back home – the house felt quiet without him.
The rain was falling steadily as they left town onto the main road. Even with his lights on visibility was poor and Kukui drove slowly. A blinding flash of lightning struck somewhere ahead and the rain increased in tempo. As the road slanted downhill, still half-dazzled, it was almost too late when he spotted the figure on the ground.
“Kukui-kun!”
The jeep skidded on the wet road as Kukui slammed on the brakes and swerved.
Kukui and Burnet sat stunned for a second. Then, without a word and heedless of the drenching rain, they both jumped out of the car and ran towards the prone figure. She was a woman around their age. Burnet put a hand to her chest and cocked an ear against her mouth, then nodded. Kukui let out a small sigh of relief that she was alive.
“Let’s get her out of the rain!”
Between them they managed to carry the woman into the back of the jeep. She groaned and muttered something as they lay her down. Burnet once again put her ear closer to hear better.
“She’s saying something about a baby…”
Out of the downpour they could smell the burnt plastic of the woman’s anorak and Kukui’s eyes were drawn to a red, forked mark that was blossoming on her lower leg.
“Burnet, look there – I think she’s been struck by lightning. We need to get her to hospital as quickly as possible.”
“But, a baby… What if she actually had a baby with her?”
The professors exchanged a look of consternation and Kukui pelted out of the car once again. He circled a wide arc round the spot the woman had been lying and peered down both the incline of the road and the steep bank of the forest. In the darkness and pouring rain he could hardly see a thing and certainly no signs of a baby. He sprinted back into the driver’s seat.
“There’s nothing obvious. I think we have to get her to safety and then speak to the police. Hopefully she’s just confused…” He didn’t finish his thought out loud. They set off in silence, praying that that was the case, as it was impossible to imagine a helpless baby surviving alone for long in this storm.
Kojiro was enjoying an ice cold can of Komala Coffee from the fridge (and idly wondering whether the island’s electricity grid was bearing up as well as their cobbled-together generator) when Kiteruguma came home.
Everyone was upstairs, the exposed part of the hideout being both draughty and wet. They heard Kiteruguma call out her return and Kojiro secretly felt glad that she was back in one piece before the storm really got going. If anyone could take on a rampaging weather system it was her, but he’d rather not test that. In Alola their team operated with the confidence that Kiteruguma was an indestructible ally, but somehow the arrival of Nuikoguma had brought into sharp focus for Kojiro that she was another living being just like them, albeit a little sturdier.
“Ki-ki-kiiiiii!”
Nyasu’s brow furrowed slightly and he said, “She’s calling for help…”
Kojiro frowned as he put his drink down on a coaster and leapt lightly down the ladder.
It was dark in the unlit base of the tree and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Kiteruguma was unloading an armful of fruits into a neat heap in the most sheltered corner of the den. The other arm she held close to her body and he wondered for a second if she was injured.
Then he saw the baby.
“What’s the matter?”, Musashi asked breezily, hopping off the bottom rung. Kojiro grabbed her by the arm before pointing wordlessly at Kiteruguma. Musashi’s eyes followed his gaze and she stared hard until she registered what she was seeing.
With a yelp she clutched Kojiro’s other arm as the rest of the gang made their way down the ladder.
“What are you shouting for—NYAAAAAAAA~!”
Kiteruguma came over to the group and opened her arms to more clearly show them her latest find. The baby was small, miraculously dry, and fast asleep. She held her arms out further towards Musashi and Kojiro and said a gentle, “Kii ki ki kiiiiii.”
“She’s saying she’s found a distant relative of nyours,” said Nyasu.
Musashi and Kojiro, still holding onto each other for dear life, exchanged panicked looks before releasing their grip.
“A relative of ours?!”
“Musashi, it’s a human baby nya!”
“Hang on, this must be someone’s baby. Won’t they be worried and looking for it?” Kojiro looked up at Kiteruguma and asked, “Where did you find it?”
Kiteruguma windmilled her unoccupied arm in the direction of the entrance, from where at that moment a violent and wet gust of wind rushed in, buffeting the group. Taking that as her cue, she firmly deposited the baby in Musashi’s arms and ushered them back up the ladder. Kojiro went first and Musashi immediately passed the baby to him through the hatch. He was surprised by its weight and had to hold it close to balance. He realised he had never held a human baby before and felt an unexpected tug in his chest.
Another thought then occurred to him, and he called down to Kiteruguma, “Was it hurt when you found it?” Turning to Musashi he suggested, “Maybe you should check it over, just in case?”
Of course, he reflected, a baby found in a tropical storm probably should be examined by a proper paediatrician. But Musashi had some medical training, which was more than the rest of them. She looked extremely unsure, but nevertheless Kojiro sat down on a chair and the gang gathered round looking expectantly at her (except Kiteruguma who was still squeezing through the hatch).
“I mean, this feels a bit outside of our remit.”
“But it’s an abandoned baby, nya. If we don’t step in…”
“We might be lovely, charming villains but we wouldn’t allow a helpless child to go uncared for, right?”
For a fleeting second Kojiro sensed some inscrutable emotion pass over Musashi’s face, but she sounded businesslike as she said, “Ok, fine.”
She squinted at the baby from a slight distance and hesitated, and Kojiro wondered if maybe dropping out of the Lucky Nursing School before graduation was not really an adequate medical qualification after all…
“Well, it’s breathing,” she began tentatively. That was a start. Taking her gloves off, she put a hand on the baby’s head, shrugged her shoulders and then undid the poppers on its romper to put a finger on its chest. “Heart rate feels a little fast, but then, littler things always run faster…”
Sonansu and Hidoide compared each other’s heartbeats and nodded in agreement. Nyasu felt (seemingly in vain) for a pulse on Mimikyu and shuddered as it put its ice-cold claw against his neck in response.
Musashi then lightly pressed on the baby’s tummy. It squirmed, nearly wriggling out of Kojiro’s grasp. He held on tighter again and it settled down.
“Don’t drop the baby Kojiro!”, scolded Musashi as she opened the nappy, “Oh! It’s a boy… He seems ok anyway…”
As Musashi redressed the baby with surprising deftness given her initial reluctance, a new worry wormed into Kojiro’s brain.
“Musashi, we don’t have any nappies. Or milk. Or anything a baby needs. And the parents… Shouldn’t we try to take him back?”
Musashi threw him a cynical look and said, “Are you sure he’ll be safer back with whatever caregiver left him out for Kiteruguma to find in this weather? Anyway, do you really mean to take him out in the storm? You felt the wind downstairs, right? At least he’s under shelter here. You said yourself that the tree is safe, and lightning-proof and all that.”
She was right of course – it would be not only irresponsible but foolhardy to take that little infant out into the open in the storm, looking for unknown people in an unknown location.
Kojiro felt the baby stir again and looked down to see him open his eyes. Everyone crowded round slightly closer and the baby looked up at his new surroundings. He had dark skin, darker eyes and a surprising amount of thick, black hair on his head. He was, and Kojiro felt another tug as he thought it, beautiful.
As if by reflex, Musashi offered a finger to the baby, which he grasped and then put straight into his mouth.
“Hey, cut that out!”
“He’s hungry, isn’t he?”, Nyasu asked as Musashi retrieved her finger and the baby replaced it with his own whole hand. No one was brave enough to ask out loud how they were going to feed him, and the silence stretched painfully out.
Just a few minutes ago, Kojiro had been sipping on his iced coffee without a care in the world. Now he felt the full weight of responsibility for the wellbeing of this tiny, precious thing, and the looming question of what to do next seemed impossible to answer.
“I’ll go,” said Musashi suddenly, breaking his mounting decision paralysis.
“What?”
“We can’t take the baby out now, so I’ll go. Let me try and get some supplies,” she looked at Kojiro and added, “I can tell the police or whatever that we’ve got him, in case anyone’s looking.”
Sonansu, always wearing his heart on his sleeve, looked stricken at her suggestion. Kojiro no more liked the idea of Musashi out alone in a potentially deadly tropical storm, but recognised that the only pragmatic solution was for someone to venture out.
Still…
“I’ll go, Musashi,” Kojiro said shifting the baby’s weight to stand up.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, already clambering upstairs to retrieve a jacket. Out of sight, she added, “Look how comfortable he is with you. You need to keep him happy until I’m back.”
Kojiro exchanged a look with Nyasu. They knew that tone well. Musashi was no stranger to winning an argument, but this offhand dismissal meant there would be no argument. It was either reckless bravery or, Kojiro suddenly thought, she just didn’t want to be left holding the baby.
Musashi climbed back down a bit more slowly, encumbered by an enormous coat (which Kojiro recognised as belonging to him).
She said a casual “See you then,” before finding her way blocked by Kiteruguma.
“Err, look, I have to go. You brought this baby back here and now we need to get stuff to take care of it!”
“Kiiiiiiiiiiiii!”
“She’s saying she’ll take nyou.”
And with that Kiteruguma squeezed back down the main hatch. Musashi stood peering down the rim waiting to descend, when suddenly a large pink paw swiped up and scooped her down.
As Musashi’s muffled scream rapidly receded, Kojiro took a deep breath. He felt better – he should have known that Kiteruguma would never let her out by herself. And after all, if anyone could take on a rampaging weather system it was her…
Sitting back down, Kojiro awkwardly shifted his hold so that the baby was facing him. Suddenly he stopped sucking his fingers and smiled up at him.
Kojiro felt like the sun itself was shining on his face and, as everyone gathered round to admire him again, he couldn’t help but feel happy that this baby had somehow found its way onto his lap.
“…expected to make landfall on Akala Island imminently. Residents are being urged to remain indoors and avoid travel except where essential. Storm conditions and disruption are also expected on Melemele and Ula’Ula Islands, where caution is advised–”
Nyasu switched off the radio as the rain began to tap out a more convincing beat. “I suppose there’s nyo point taking out the malasada truck today.”
Kojiro didn’t even look up from the mechanism he was tinkering with. “The bulletin said everyone should stay in, right? We won’t make any sales.”
Nyasu wriggled into a more comfortable position. It momentarily occurred to him that he hadn’t even thought to suggest leaving the safety of Kiteruguma’s den to do any work towards their main job as Rocket Gang members, but he let it go – no point getting your paws wet for no reason. It wasn’t that they’d completely given up on their dreams of status and success, but somehow in Alola it was hard to get too worked up about it.
Around him, his friends looked happy and relaxed. Sonansu and Hidoide were trying, and failing, to teach Nuikoguma how to play hide-and-seek. Mimikyu sat proudly in Musashi’s lap as she hemmed its rag. Only Kojiro appeared hard at work – squinting fervently at a tiny screw he was tightening – but with enough of a manic gleam in his eyes for Nyasu to know that he was working on a pet project and not anything useful.
“Hey,” Musashi suddenly looked up and surveyed the space with a dubious expression on her face. “Do you really think this place is safe in a storm? Like, don’t trees get struck by lightning or something?!”
Kojiro was still concentrating on his screw, but there was a definite trace of self-satisfaction in his voice as he answered, “Not this tree, since Nyasu and I installed a lightning conductor when we were fitting it up.”
“Eh, what’s that?”
“It’s a metal rod designed to conduct electricity straight down to earth, bypassing whatever structure it’s been erected to protect.” A tiny pause followed before he looked up at Musashi and added, “In other words, we’ve made the tree safe from lightning strikes.”
“As expected!” Musashi said and her face cleared. She pulled tight at a knot and bit off the end of the thread, before throwing herself backwards with a flourish. “Well, I guess we can take it easy today!”
“Soooooonansu!”
“Hopefully Kiteruguma will be home soon with something nice, nya…”
With no one to hold it, the pushchair rolled over the grassy verge at the edge of the path and down into the forest.
It gathered speed on the descent as its occupant slept on, oblivious. Any manner of hazards could have terminated its course in disaster as it hurtled through the foliage, completely out of control. Perhaps it was the mischievous blessing of the guardian deity that meant it instead bounced against the soft body of a large, pink bear.
Kiteruguma looked down at the errant missile as if it were a leaf that had blown against her leg. She was busy foraging and hardly paid heed to it.
Like many Pokémon, she had an instinct for the weather and how it might affect her natural environment. As such, she knew that this was her last chance to collect food for her family before a period of relative danger. Although the leafy canopy provided some protection, heavy raindrops were reaching the forest floor and lightning had struck very close by just now.
Yes, it would be better to hibernate until this inclement weather passed. And of course, the young ones in her care couldn’t always be trusted to make sensible decisions, which was another reason to get home quickly before anyone made a reckless trip outside that they’d need to be rescued from.
Kiteruguma turned back for her den and was nearly out of earshot when she heard the muffled wail.
She reacted immediately. In a flash she crossed the distance back to the pushchair, dropped her harvest and ripped back the fiddly rain cover to scoop out the pushchair’s cargo.
It was a small, human baby.
She held the baby firmly but with surprising gentleness for so big a bear. It quietened quickly, settling back into sleep, and she knelt then to gather back the food.
The rain was getting heavier. Safety first, it was time to go.
Kiteruguma seemed to have become something of magnet for lost children and did not question the arrival of a new addition to her brood. Who or where its original caretaker might be was, as far as she was concerned, a question for later.
The baby lay nestled amongst fruits as she carried it home.
“Ah, I’m so glad we made it to the store in time! Imagine being stuck inside without any coffee…”
Kukui glanced at his wife with a look of exasperated affection. He was loathe to deprive Burnet of her caffeine fix, but this trip did feel like an unnecessary risk.
It was a relief to know that Satoshi and his other students were safe on Poni Island which was far enough away from the storm’s epicentre to be relatively unaffected. He should be returning there in a few days to collect them and was looking forward to seeing their progress and having Satoshi back home – the house felt quiet without him.
The rain was falling steadily as they left town onto the main road. Even with his lights on visibility was poor and Kukui drove slowly. A blinding flash of lightning struck somewhere ahead and the rain increased in tempo. As the road slanted downhill, still half-dazzled, it was almost too late when he spotted the figure on the ground.
“Kukui-kun!”
The jeep skidded on the wet road as Kukui slammed on the brakes and swerved.
Kukui and Burnet sat stunned for a second. Then, without a word and heedless of the drenching rain, they both jumped out of the car and ran towards the prone figure. She was a woman around their age. Burnet put a hand to her chest and cocked an ear against her mouth, then nodded. Kukui let out a small sigh of relief that she was alive.
“Let’s get her out of the rain!”
Between them they managed to carry the woman into the back of the jeep. She groaned and muttered something as they lay her down. Burnet once again put her ear closer to hear better.
“She’s saying something about a baby…”
Out of the downpour they could smell the burnt plastic of the woman’s anorak and Kukui’s eyes were drawn to a red, forked mark that was blossoming on her lower leg.
“Burnet, look there – I think she’s been struck by lightning. We need to get her to hospital as quickly as possible.”
“But, a baby… What if she actually had a baby with her?”
The professors exchanged a look of consternation and Kukui pelted out of the car once again. He circled a wide arc round the spot the woman had been lying and peered down both the incline of the road and the steep bank of the forest. In the darkness and pouring rain he could hardly see a thing and certainly no signs of a baby. He sprinted back into the driver’s seat.
“There’s nothing obvious. I think we have to get her to safety and then speak to the police. Hopefully she’s just confused…” He didn’t finish his thought out loud. They set off in silence, praying that that was the case, as it was impossible to imagine a helpless baby surviving alone for long in this storm.
Kojiro was enjoying an ice cold can of Komala Coffee from the fridge (and idly wondering whether the island’s electricity grid was bearing up as well as their cobbled-together generator) when Kiteruguma came home.
Everyone was upstairs, the exposed part of the hideout being both draughty and wet. They heard Kiteruguma call out her return and Kojiro secretly felt glad that she was back in one piece before the storm really got going. If anyone could take on a rampaging weather system it was her, but he’d rather not test that. In Alola their team operated with the confidence that Kiteruguma was an indestructible ally, but somehow the arrival of Nuikoguma had brought into sharp focus for Kojiro that she was another living being just like them, albeit a little sturdier.
“Ki-ki-kiiiiii!”
Nyasu’s brow furrowed slightly and he said, “She’s calling for help…”
Kojiro frowned as he put his drink down on a coaster and leapt lightly down the ladder.
It was dark in the unlit base of the tree and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Kiteruguma was unloading an armful of fruits into a neat heap in the most sheltered corner of the den. The other arm she held close to her body and he wondered for a second if she was injured.
Then he saw the baby.
“What’s the matter?”, Musashi asked breezily, hopping off the bottom rung. Kojiro grabbed her by the arm before pointing wordlessly at Kiteruguma. Musashi’s eyes followed his gaze and she stared hard until she registered what she was seeing.
With a yelp she clutched Kojiro’s other arm as the rest of the gang made their way down the ladder.
“What are you shouting for—NYAAAAAAAA~!”
Kiteruguma came over to the group and opened her arms to more clearly show them her latest find. The baby was small, miraculously dry, and fast asleep. She held her arms out further towards Musashi and Kojiro and said a gentle, “Kii ki ki kiiiiii.”
“She’s saying she’s found a distant relative of nyours,” said Nyasu.
Musashi and Kojiro, still holding onto each other for dear life, exchanged panicked looks before releasing their grip.
“A relative of ours?!”
“Musashi, it’s a human baby nya!”
“Hang on, this must be someone’s baby. Won’t they be worried and looking for it?” Kojiro looked up at Kiteruguma and asked, “Where did you find it?”
Kiteruguma windmilled her unoccupied arm in the direction of the entrance, from where at that moment a violent and wet gust of wind rushed in, buffeting the group. Taking that as her cue, she firmly deposited the baby in Musashi’s arms and ushered them back up the ladder. Kojiro went first and Musashi immediately passed the baby to him through the hatch. He was surprised by its weight and had to hold it close to balance. He realised he had never held a human baby before and felt an unexpected tug in his chest.
Another thought then occurred to him, and he called down to Kiteruguma, “Was it hurt when you found it?” Turning to Musashi he suggested, “Maybe you should check it over, just in case?”
Of course, he reflected, a baby found in a tropical storm probably should be examined by a proper paediatrician. But Musashi had some medical training, which was more than the rest of them. She looked extremely unsure, but nevertheless Kojiro sat down on a chair and the gang gathered round looking expectantly at her (except Kiteruguma who was still squeezing through the hatch).
“I mean, this feels a bit outside of our remit.”
“But it’s an abandoned baby, nya. If we don’t step in…”
“We might be lovely, charming villains but we wouldn’t allow a helpless child to go uncared for, right?”
For a fleeting second Kojiro sensed some inscrutable emotion pass over Musashi’s face, but she sounded businesslike as she said, “Ok, fine.”
She squinted at the baby from a slight distance and hesitated, and Kojiro wondered if maybe dropping out of the Lucky Nursing School before graduation was not really an adequate medical qualification after all…
“Well, it’s breathing,” she began tentatively. That was a start. Taking her gloves off, she put a hand on the baby’s head, shrugged her shoulders and then undid the poppers on its romper to put a finger on its chest. “Heart rate feels a little fast, but then, littler things always run faster…”
Sonansu and Hidoide compared each other’s heartbeats and nodded in agreement. Nyasu felt (seemingly in vain) for a pulse on Mimikyu and shuddered as it put its ice-cold claw against his neck in response.
Musashi then lightly pressed on the baby’s tummy. It squirmed, nearly wriggling out of Kojiro’s grasp. He held on tighter again and it settled down.
“Don’t drop the baby Kojiro!”, scolded Musashi as she opened the nappy, “Oh! It’s a boy… He seems ok anyway…”
As Musashi redressed the baby with surprising deftness given her initial reluctance, a new worry wormed into Kojiro’s brain.
“Musashi, we don’t have any nappies. Or milk. Or anything a baby needs. And the parents… Shouldn’t we try to take him back?”
Musashi threw him a cynical look and said, “Are you sure he’ll be safer back with whatever caregiver left him out for Kiteruguma to find in this weather? Anyway, do you really mean to take him out in the storm? You felt the wind downstairs, right? At least he’s under shelter here. You said yourself that the tree is safe, and lightning-proof and all that.”
She was right of course – it would be not only irresponsible but foolhardy to take that little infant out into the open in the storm, looking for unknown people in an unknown location.
Kojiro felt the baby stir again and looked down to see him open his eyes. Everyone crowded round slightly closer and the baby looked up at his new surroundings. He had dark skin, darker eyes and a surprising amount of thick, black hair on his head. He was, and Kojiro felt another tug as he thought it, beautiful.
As if by reflex, Musashi offered a finger to the baby, which he grasped and then put straight into his mouth.
“Hey, cut that out!”
“He’s hungry, isn’t he?”, Nyasu asked as Musashi retrieved her finger and the baby replaced it with his own whole hand. No one was brave enough to ask out loud how they were going to feed him, and the silence stretched painfully out.
Just a few minutes ago, Kojiro had been sipping on his iced coffee without a care in the world. Now he felt the full weight of responsibility for the wellbeing of this tiny, precious thing, and the looming question of what to do next seemed impossible to answer.
“I’ll go,” said Musashi suddenly, breaking his mounting decision paralysis.
“What?”
“We can’t take the baby out now, so I’ll go. Let me try and get some supplies,” she looked at Kojiro and added, “I can tell the police or whatever that we’ve got him, in case anyone’s looking.”
Sonansu, always wearing his heart on his sleeve, looked stricken at her suggestion. Kojiro no more liked the idea of Musashi out alone in a potentially deadly tropical storm, but recognised that the only pragmatic solution was for someone to venture out.
Still…
“I’ll go, Musashi,” Kojiro said shifting the baby’s weight to stand up.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, already clambering upstairs to retrieve a jacket. Out of sight, she added, “Look how comfortable he is with you. You need to keep him happy until I’m back.”
Kojiro exchanged a look with Nyasu. They knew that tone well. Musashi was no stranger to winning an argument, but this offhand dismissal meant there would be no argument. It was either reckless bravery or, Kojiro suddenly thought, she just didn’t want to be left holding the baby.
Musashi climbed back down a bit more slowly, encumbered by an enormous coat (which Kojiro recognised as belonging to him).
She said a casual “See you then,” before finding her way blocked by Kiteruguma.
“Err, look, I have to go. You brought this baby back here and now we need to get stuff to take care of it!”
“Kiiiiiiiiiiiii!”
“She’s saying she’ll take nyou.”
And with that Kiteruguma squeezed back down the main hatch. Musashi stood peering down the rim waiting to descend, when suddenly a large pink paw swiped up and scooped her down.
As Musashi’s muffled scream rapidly receded, Kojiro took a deep breath. He felt better – he should have known that Kiteruguma would never let her out by herself. And after all, if anyone could take on a rampaging weather system it was her…
Sitting back down, Kojiro awkwardly shifted his hold so that the baby was facing him. Suddenly he stopped sucking his fingers and smiled up at him.
Kojiro felt like the sun itself was shining on his face and, as everyone gathered round to admire him again, he couldn’t help but feel happy that this baby had somehow found its way onto his lap.