The Naughty List
To: Chibi PikaSnow fell softly on Tani Village, coating the sleeping valley in a blanket of white. A little black bundle of fluff bounded through the shadows towards one of the many silent houses. The windows and doors were completely locked up, but that wasn’t a problem. It bounced up onto the roof beside the chimney and warped into the red and white form of a delibird. A small delibird. One that could feasibly wriggle down the chimney without getting stuck part way.
Soot tricked down onto the fireplace, stifling what remained of the embers. Good, given that one touch of those hot flames would shatter the delibird illusion in an instant. Keen eyes sought out the elegantly decorated Christmas tree, its base packed full of presents. The delibird grabbed his sack and scurried across to them, stuffing the sack until it was fit to bursting. Not everything fit inside, but that was okay. He grabbed the ones that looked the most promising. The big ones first, then the small ones. They were more likely to fall into place in the small gaps the larger ones made in the sack.
There was no going back up the chimney now. It was an impossible feat. He’d have to take the window. Easier from the inside. All he had to do was open it, clamber out, and press it shut behind him.
“Delibird?”
The delibird looked back over his shoulder, meeting the wide and curious eyes of a little oshawott.
“Is it Christmas already?” the tiny pokemon asked.
The delibird grinned a boyish grin and shot from the window, wriggling the bulging sack after him. Then he shut the window and scurried across the snow, back towards the little house in the shadows. The one at the base of an oran tree. Its thatch roof was thick with snow, dripping droplets down over the edge that froze into jagged icicles.
Once he was inside the door, his delibird illusion melted away. A tiny zorua gripped the sack in his fisted paws and laughed.
“I did it,” he said. “That’s two sacks in one night. Plenty of gifts for little me!”
He bundled them under his tree. A lop-sided runt of a sapling he’d dug up from the mountain woods. Its tinsel and frosted berry baubles caused its yellowing branches to sag, but the twinkling lights stood out among the spines adding festivity to his sitting room.
“It’s so easy!” he said. “I don’t know why I didn’t do this last year. Pokemon just leave their presents lying about, saving Delibird his job. It makes me wonder if he’s even real.”
Zorua paced over to his window and hoisted himself onto his back legs to peer out at the snow-cloaked village. Still dark. Pokemon still sleeping soundly. A long yawn forced his jaws open and he lowered his head to his paws. Maybe it was time for bed? It wouldn’t be long until Christmas. Three more days. That was two more nights he had to gather himself some more gifts.
He dropped back from the window and leapt onto the sofa, burying his nose in his paws. Before he knew it, he was sound asleep.
...
The sun’s rays cast a dazzling light display through the icicles around the window. Zorua’s blue eyes fluttered open and he stretched out his back and yawned. A deep rumble spread through his stomach and he stood up to enter the kitchen.
Oh, wait. Of course. He’d finished those overripe berries yesterday. He shook his head and moved back into the living room. The little money bag sat by his front door, hung over a little hook in the wall. He stuck his nose inside it and pulled out a lone silver coin. It would only get him a couple of days worth of berries at most. He glanced over at the present pile beneath the tree. Maybe one of those would be edible? He wouldn’t know until Christmas day. So he stuffed the silver coin in his satchel and trotted from the door. His paws sank into the snow until the cold frost brushed his belly. How much more had fallen that night? He pushed himself through it like a tiny snowplow. Each step was a struggle and the snow melted into his fur. His sharp teeth chattered together, but he shook it off, focusing himself on reaching the market. Fresh berries. Maybe a warm mug of Tapu Cocoa.
“Hey, kid.”
He looked up at the voice, spotting a mob rattata sitting on a tree stump. The rattata washed his black whiskers with his forepaws, fixing one red eye on the zorua. Oh good grief. What did he want? His only silver coin? Zorua shook his head and turned away, straining to pick up his pace through the snow.
“I saw what you did,” said the rattata.
Zorua’s tail stood upright and his paw faltered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I saw you,” said the rattata. “You ran straight beneath my tree. Used your illusion to be all sneaky like. Make us rattata look bad, yanno.”
Zorua snorted, blowing freshly falling snowflakes through the air. “Either your mind is playing tricks, or you saw some other zorua. I was sleeping last night.”
“Aye, after you got in. I saw you on your sofa. All them presents. Mighty nice of whoever got them for you, eh? A little loner like yourself.”
“Shut up!” Zorua rounded on the rodent, canines bared. “Don’t you say another word or I’ll come over there and… and…”
“And what?” The rattata lifted his paws in a shrug. “Steal my presents? I ain’t got any.”
Zorua relaxed his shoulders and blew away more fresh snowflakes. No presents… Well, he could relate to that. But rattata were hardly lonely. They might cause more trouble than any pokemon alive, but they also lived in packs. Surely Mob Boss Raticate wouldn’t let his mob go hungry on Christmas day? Even if they didn’t get any presents.
Even if Delibird was real, every hatchling knew he never visited those on his naughty list.
“Well…” Zorua cleared his throat. “Maybe… if you just leave me alone and let me go… You can take one of my presents.”
Mob Rattata let out a loud laugh and shook his head. “I don’t know what you take me for, kid. But I ain’t pilfering any of your stolen goods.”
Zorua bristled from head to tail and gave a low growl. “Fine!”
He turned to leave, but the rodent’s voice stopped him, sending a chill down his already frozen spine.
“If you’re gonna give them away… you could give them back to the ‘mon you stole them from.”
Zorua looked back at the tree stump, but the rattata had vanished. He shook his head, letting out a silent sigh of relief that he had managed to get away with his silver coin still intact.
It wasn’t a long walk to the market, but with his small size and the difficult terrain it was a real slog. Pokemon milled about the market stall, buying berries, trying cheeses and clutching steaming mugs of cocoa and hot cider. Zorua’s mouth watered at the smell of hot pastries and he paused to check the price. Just one alone was almost as much as he carried. It wouldn’t see him through until Christmas day. He sighed and trudged over the well-trodden snow to the berry merchant.
The kindly face of a kecleon smiled down at him, wearing a silly red Delibird hat.
“If it isn’t Zoroark’s kid,” he said. “What will it be, little one?”
“Do I know you?” Zorua asked.
“I’m here every year!” Kecleon laughed. “Who else would you buy berries from?”
“I don’t remember you,” said Zorua. “The berry merchant last year was a slurpuff.”
“He was probably covering my shift,” said Kecleon.
“Every time I visited?”
Kecleon merely smiled down at him.
Zorua shrugged and reached into his pouch. He pulled out his silver coin with his teeth and placed it on the counter. “As many oran berries as this will buy me, please.”
Kecleon made a thoughtful noise as he looked over his berry baskets. Oran berries, cheri berries, sitrus, nomel, pecha… Zorua’s mouth watered just looking at them.
“Are you sure you don’t want a mix?” Kecleon asked.
“Really…” said Zorua. “I just want oran berries.”
“Making a pie?” Kecleon asked.
Zorua shook his head. “I just… like them.”
Kecleon examined his face for a moment, then reached under his counter for a paper bag.
“Very well,” he said. “I’ll load you up some berries, and you go and get a Tapu Cocoa.”
“I don’t have enough for a Tapu Cocoa,” said Zorua.
“I never said it was for you.” Kecleon smiled down at him. A warm smile that seemed to melt some of the frost from his fur. “But who am I kidding? Go on. Go get two. Tell them they’re for me.”
Zorua’s jaw dropped and he stared up at the kecleon aghast. Was he being serious? Well… There was only one way to find out. Zorua turned and skipped over to the drinks stand, joining the queue behind a dewott and her son. The tiny otter pawed at his mother’s fur, his pleading eyes brimming with tears.
“I’m telling you, Mum!” he said. “I saw Delibird! I didn’t do anything!”
Dewott frowned at him. “We all know Delibird only takes presents away when children are naughty!”
Zorua felt his heart sink and he folded his ears back to block out their conversation. Mob Rattata’s words played on his mind and he bit his lip so hard it hurt. Once the dewott had moved away, along with her crying child, Zorua reared up and placed an order for two Tapu Cocoas.
“For Kecleon?” The azumarill sounded surprised. She glanced over at the berry market, and her eyes widened at the kecleon. “Oh! Okay, well…”
She quickly whipped up two mugs of steaming cocoa, topped with whipped cream and marshmallows. Zorua took one in one paw and frowned at the other. How was he going to do this? The perils of being a quadruped. The azumarill seemed to notice this and she waddled from her booth with the other mug.
Zorua muttered a thank you as she placed it on the berry market’s counter and watched her return to her stall.
“The pokemon here are so kind,” said Kecleon. “It warms me up inside.”
Zorua frowned up at him. “Even she didn’t seem to recognize you.”
Kecleon leant forward over his counter and a warm smile spread across his face. “Chameleons are masters of disguise.”
Hot cocoa flew from Zorua’s nose and he quickly licked it away. Kecleon laughed and took a sip of his own cocoa. Cream clung to his mouth like a foamy beard and mustache.
Zorua laughed and lapped up his swiftly melting marshmallows. “From one master to another then, eh?”
Kecleon chuckled. “Well… it all depends what you use that disguise for. One could be a master at good, and the other at bad.”
Zorua looked down at his cocoa and sighed. “Thank you for the cocoa.”
“You’re welcome, child.” Kecleon reached down towards him and handed him a paper bag. “You get home now. You’ll catch your death out here.”
Zorua nodded and swapped the bag for his empty cocoa mug. He trotted back towards his home, striving to keep the paper bag above the snow. It had been mostly trodden down except for the area around his little house beneath the tree. When he stepped inside, he shook fresh snow and water droplets from his fur and deposited the bag on his kitchen table. Fresh berries tumbled out, a mixture of oran, sitrus, cheri and pecha. Much more than a silver coin’s worth. A gasp left his throat and he twisted his neck around towards the window. Had Kecleon given him the wrong bag? Well… he didn’t have to give them back. Did he? The kindly kecleon’s face filled his mind and he shook the thought from his head. No, he had to give them back. He leapt onto the log stool to gather them up, but his eyes spotted something scrawled on the bag.
‘To Zorua. Merry Christmas.’
Tears pricked his eyes and he lowered his head onto his paws. It didn’t look like he’d be going hungry at Christmas after all.
...
The wind howled through the woods as the snowstorm picked up, pelting the frosted window with frothy white flakes. Zorua curled up on the sofa, watching the storm as it raged outside, barring his view of any point of the village beyond the path to his house.
He let out a sigh and lowered his head to his paws. His blue eyes wandered to the wonky Christmas tree, packed full of presents. Despite all that, he still felt hollowed out inside.
Snowstorm…
Maybe from his bedroom it wouldn’t be so bad? His fur bristled and he shook his tiny body. Regardless, he leapt from the sofa and plodded through the little corridor towards his room. He faltered beside another closed door and cast a glance its way. Then he snorted and turned away from it into his own bedroom. The bed was still in disarray. Covers bunched up from a hyper leap from the bed when he’d heard the door go. He could still hear the knock in his mind. Three little taps.
He moved towards the bed but his paw brushed something on the floor. A lone Christmas card. A snowy hilltop with a little cozy cottage on it, smoke billowing from its chimney. Above it flew Delibird in his red sleigh, towed by stantler lead by a festive sawsbuck. He hadn’t even had the time to question why the fireplace would still be lit.
He didn’t need to open the card. He knew what it said. He’d read it obsessively.
‘Dearest Zorua. I’m afraid there’s a blizzard brewing on the coast of Green Isle. I won’t be able to make it home for Christmas this year. I’ll send you some money with this card. See you in a couple of weeks. Ma.’
That was it. That was all it said. Arrived in a torn and battered envelope, not a coin in sight. He hadn’t been sure whether the delivery chatot had done it or not. Maybe it had received a thorough beating in the snow? It had already begun to fall when it arrived four days ago. She was all he had and she was hardly home!
Six months. His mother had been gone for six months. Why couldn’t she have come home before the storm hit? He swiped the card aside beneath the bed and marched from the room, back towards the sofa. He faltered in the doorway, staring fixedly at the presents.
That was it. He’d go out again. No one would be out in this storm. He could get another sack full easily! He grabbed the burlap sack and dashed from the house. Snow hammered his fur, weighing him down in seconds. He shook it off to no avail and lowered his head, dragging himself through the rapidly thickening snow. He staggered to his left as the wind buffeted him and he let out a pathetic whine.
It wasn’t going to be an easy run. He’d already hit the three houses closest to his home so he’d need to go out a little further. Maybe to the part of the village surrounded by trees? Less snow. More of a wind break.
The usually well-trodden path was already hidden under a thick snowy blanket. He sank into it up to his chin, and as he pushed himself on the snow fell with such ferocity it covered his tracks in an instant. Maybe it wasn’t worth it? At this rate, he’d be buried.
“What are you doin’ out in all this?”
Zorua looked up at the voice. A tiny, snow-covered pokemon sat atop a flat rock, blinking at him with beady red eyes. It shook off the snow, revealing the mob rattata he’d been speaking to the previous morning.
“I’d ask you the same thing!” said Zorua around his burlap sack.
“Look’s like you’re off to do some more thieving,” said Rattata. “Not exactly in the festive spirit, then?”
Zorua snorted, sending out a flurry of snowflakes. “I’ve gotta get presents somehow, haven’t I?”
“There are other ways.”
“Name one!” Zorua snapped, dropping his sack into the snow.
“Okay.” Rattata folded his paws and stared up at him. “If you show a little kindness, you get it back in return. Right?”
“Really?” Zorua scoffed. “You’re telling me about showing kindness?! I thought mob rattata were supposed to be thieving pack-rat jerks!”
“Hey!” said Rattata. “That hurts!”
Zorua sighed and looked away from him towards the trees. The snow whipped up, curling through the night sky and blocking his view of the canopy. Cold wind bit through his fur and he shuddered, huddling closer to the ground.
“Look, kid,” said Rattata. “Something’s clearly got your gogoat. But standing out here in this weather ain’t gonna solve it. Come inside, we’re having soup. It’ll warm you up and dry your coat.”
“Soup?” Zorua cocked an eyebrow at him. “It’s the early hours of the morning.”
“Yes.” Rattata nodded. “Lunch time for us.”
Zorua trailed a paw through the snow and sighed. “I dunno…”
“Come on, kid!” Rattata threw up his paws. “You’re seriously gonna steal some other kid’s presents? I’ve seen you out every night. In the freezing cold snow, using your illusion to disguise yourself as Delibird. Hatchlings have been crying about Delibird taking back their presents, when it’s just a zorua in disguise!”
Zorua flinched and flashed a canine.
“Tell me,” Rattata went on. “What exactly drives a little kid to do something like that?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“No.” Rattata pointed a claw at him and smiled. A smile that reminded Zorua of the berry merchant. “But I think you need to get it off your chest. So… soup? I’ll also whip you up a cocoa.”
Zorua licked his lips and stared down at his now soggy burlap sack. He grabbed it in his teeth and followed after Rattata. The burrow was a little small for Zorua, but he wriggled through the opening into the winding corridors of the pack’s home.
Hundreds of red eyes peered out at him from the nest rooms, reflecting the red and green lights strewn along the tunnel walls. Glistening tinsel hung down in neat arches, and somewhere deep within the burrows music was playing.
“I didn’t think you guys celebrated Christmas,” said Zorua.
“Of course we do!” Rattata laughed and shook his head. “What made you think that?”
“Well…” Zorua bit his lip as he followed Rattata into the large kitchen.
The smell of steaming berries filled his nostrils and his mouth watered instantly. A greying female rattata stood over a steaming pan of soup, stirring it wildly with a ladle. She served up a bowl and handed it down to a tiny kit who thanked her cheerfully.
“We have a guest, Chef Rattata,” said Rattata.
Chef looked down at them and her eyes widened when she spotted Zorua.
“And a strange guest at that!” She placed her paws on her hips and inclined her head on one side. “What brings a soggy fox into our burrows?”
“The kid’s alone,” said Rattata. “I couldn’t very well leave him out in that storm now, could I? Remember… you show a little kindness…”
“Of course, of course!” Chef turned back to the pan. “I might need a bigger bowl…”
“A small one is fine,” said Zorua. “I had some berries for supper.”
“Perish the thought!” Chef rapped the pan’s rim with her ladle and frowned at him. “You will have a large bowl to suit your larger size. No arguments!”
Zorua nodded quickly and his haunches fell. “Yes, ma’am.”
He found himself bundled towards the table with soup served in one of Chef’s smallest boiling pans. He lapped it up cautiously and a smile split his muzzle.
“This is great!” he said. “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome, dear,” said Chef. “Eat up and I’ll do you a cocoa. You’ll need it before you meet Delibird.”
Zorua looked up with a start. “D-Delibird?”
“Every year,” said Chef. “Delibird visits our kits and hears what they want for Christmas. And we sing together.”
Rattata beamed at Zorua, drawing his eye.
“You knew about this?” Zorua asked. “Is that why you invited me here?”
“Not at all,” said Rattata. “I invited you because you looked lonely. And no one should be alone at Christmas.”
“It’s not even Christmas Eve yet,” said Zorua.
“It is for us,” said Rattata. “Just because it’s the early hours of the morning doesn’t make it any less Christmas Eve than when the sun rises.”
Zorua licked soup off his paw and frowned at him. “I’m still surprised you rattata even celebrate Christmas.”
Chef gasped from the stove and rounded on him, brandishing her ladle. “Don’t you jump to conclusions, little zorua! That judgmental attitude won’t get you any presents, young lad!”
She marched towards him and a mug of cocoa clattered down beside his soup, now almost entirely demolished.
“You still haven’t told me what makes you think that,” said Rattata.
Zorua grimaced and trailed his claws over the little wooden table. “Well… I just thought that… Mob rattata were on the naughty list.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Like me.”
“Oh, pish posh,” said Chef. “Just because we’re dark types doesn’t mean we’re naughty!”
“That’s not the reason,” said Zorua. “I know plenty of dark types that are very good pokemon. But… two years ago I was… well, I was mugged in the woods. By a mob rattata. He took my money and berries and fled. I wasn’t the only one either. So I thought mob rattata were dangerous pokemon and stayed away from them.”
Chef and Rattata exchanged glances.
“I think he’s talking about Old McScroogyPants,” said Chef.
“Aye.” Rattata nodded. “He went through a bit of a phase. Hated Christmas, hated giving presents and only liked receiving them. He’d lurk around in the woods close to Christmas time to mug passers by and keep it all to himself.”
Zorua’s blue eyes widened. “It was the same rattata? Mugging Tani Village’s pokemon?”
“Yup.” Rattata gave him a warm smile. “But he’s changed since. Woke up one Christmas morning feeling all festive. Said it felt like he’d met Delibird himself. He loves Christmas, can’t get enough of it. So now he hangs around in the kitchen making cake all day, every day.”
“Every day?” Zorua gasped. “Not just at Christmas?”
“No,” said Chef. “I have to shoo him out whenever I need the stove.”
“The kits know him as Mister Cake now,” Rattata laughed. “Grab your cocoa, kid. We’re off to meet Delibird.”
Zorua swiftly licked the pan clean and handed it back to Chef. Then he grabbed his steaming mug in one paw and trotted after Rattata as fast as he could.
They followed the winding tunnels towards the music. Tin drums, wooden flutes and twanging guitars backed child-like vocals. As they entered a room, it filled the air. A small band of rattata kits stood in the corner, singing Christmas carols at the top of their lungs. Four older rattata sat playing the instruments beside them while a fifth conducted the choir.
A cheerful laugh rose above the music and Zorua’s eye went to the back of the room. Sat in a chair much too small for him was the large, chubby mob boss of the rattata. His cheerful grin beamed out from beyond a fake yellow beak and a mass of white fur. A red Delibird hat perched atop his head at a jaunty angle over one ear. It clearly wasn’t the real Delibird, yet rattata kits flocked to him to sit on his knee and cheerfully recite exactly what they wanted for Christmas.
What stunned Zorua the most was that Mob Boss Raticate seemed to be enjoying it. Laughing along with them and pulling neatly wrapped parcels from a sack beside his chair. Each one was a berry, and when the kits unwrapped it they rushed towards a low table to place it in a wicker basket to join a heaping pile of fruit.
“What are they doing?” Zorua asked.
“This is how we celebrate,” said Rattata. “Presents don’t matter, see. Every year, for the seven days leading up to Christmas, we each put a berry into the basket. Then, come Christmas Day, there’s enough there for everyone to enjoy a feast together. The kits love it. They can’t wait to put a berry in the basket, so that’s their present off Delibird.”
Zorua’s jaw dropped as he watched the little rattata race one another to the basket.
“Go on.” Rattata nudged Zorua forward. “Go and talk to old Delibird.”
“But…” Zorua looked back at him over his shoulder. “But I know it’s not really Delibird.”
Rattata shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“I… I guess not.” Zorua turned back to the raticate, who was beaming at the tiniest rattata Zorua had ever seen. “He doesn’t look scary or anything.”
Rattata threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, Mob Boss Raticate isn’t scary at all! He’s as soft as a newborn litten.”
Zorua rolled his eyes and strolled over towards the dressed-up raticate. When Mob Boss saw him, he beamed from ear to ear.
“Well, you’re a new face.” He leant forward on his knees as the tiny rattata took her gift and scampered to the table. “What are you wanting for Christmas this year, little one?”
“D… Do I have to sit on your lap?” Zorua asked.
Mob Boss Raticate slapped his knee and laughed. Then he wiped a tear from his eye and shook his jolly head.
“Oh no, boy. Not if you don’t want to.” He smiled down at him again. “Well?”
“Well…” Zorua cleared his throat and looked over at the sack of neatly wrapped berries. “What I really want? It’s for my Ma to come home. But… I don’t think anyone can stop the snowstorm in time. It’s already Christmas Eve.”
A warm paw fell on his shoulder and he looked up at Rattata. But the mob rattata wasn’t looking at him. He met Mob Boss’ warm, jolly eyes and sighed.
“He’s not been handling it very well,” said Rattata. “He’s been…” He lowered his voice to a whisper so the kits couldn’t hear. “He’s been stealing presents.”
Mob Boss Raticate’s eyes widened and he leant back in his seat. “Well now… that’s not a way to get onto the Good List, is it, little zorua?”
Zorua closed his blue eyes and shook his head. “No, sir.”
“Don’t call me ‘sir’,” said Mob Boss Raticate. “It’s too formal. Call me Grampa Ratty if you like.”
He chortled and wiped another tear from his eye. Zorua found himself chuckling and he fixed his eyes back on Mob Boss Raticate’s.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Rattata’s right. I’ve… not been handling it well. I miss her. It’s not the first Christmas this has happened, and… well…”
Mob Boss Raticate spread his paws. “You could put it right?”
“How?”
“You could help Delibird return all those presents! I’m sure it would make the children you took them from extra happy this year. And let’s face it… with your illusion, it won’t be too difficult to handle.”
Zorua stared up at him, his mind going back to those ill-gotten presents. Compared to the jovial atmosphere of the Mob Boss’ den, his planned Christmas felt bitter and cold and lonely.
Zorua gave a stiff nod. “Okay… I’ll do it.”
“Splendid!” Mob Boss Raticate clapped his large paws. “Now you know what I think? I think it’s time for some Christmas Eve cake!”
“I couldn’t have put it better myself!” came a cheerful voice.
A set of double doors flew open and the most bizarrely dressed rattata shot through them. He was decked out in a green suit with a pointed hat, adorned with a white pidove feather. He wheeled a trolley along ahead of him, topped with a fancy cake. White frosting covered a cake designed to look like a mountain, decorated with green marzipan trees dusted with sugar. Glistening, frosted red berries scattered about it, reflecting the twinkling lights in the festive room.
“Mister Cake!” the kids cheered, rushing to join him.
They gathered around the oddly dressed rodent, clambering onto the trolley so he could wheel them around the room.
Zorua shook his head slowly. So that was the rattata who’d mugged him two years back? He never would have guessed. There was no fierceness in his eyes. No bitterness. He was a changed ‘mon.
Zorua grinned down at Rattata beside him. “I’ll definitely do it. Tomorrow… on Christmas night!”
...
Christmas night rolled in fast, bringing with it a tapering end to the snowstorm. Snow fell lightly down onto the thick blanket, filling in the pawprints from Tani Village’s inhabitants. The clouds had started to clear, revealing the twinkling stars and the full round moon. As Zorua stepped from his little house, tugging a large bulging sack of presents behind him, the moonlight glinted off the snow making it look like a bed of crystal.
“Need a paw?”
Mob Boss Raticate emerged from the shadows, with a pack of his friends behind him. Their red eyes didn’t look remotely threatening as they stared at the zorua with inquisitive and friendly smiles. The large raticate was still wearing his jaunty Delibird hat. Rattata stood beside him, grinning from ear to ear.
Zorua’s jaw dropped and he released the sack. “You want to help me?”
“Of course!” said Mob Boss Raticate. “That’s a lot of presents to deliver. If we help you, it will be done in no time flat!”
“But… it’s your Christmas time,” said Zorua. “You should be celebrating with your families and friends. Not helping a naughty hatchling return stolen gifts…”
“Oh, but you’re wrong, Zorua,” said Rattata. “We are celebrating with friends and family. That includes you.”
Zorua felt tears prick at his eyes. A smile spread across his muzzle and he gave a curt nod.
“Okay,” he said. “Thank you. Really.”
Mob Boss Raticate returned his smile then turned to his pack. “All right! Let’s gather up what’s left of those presents and take them back to their rightful recipients!”
The pack of mob rattata lifted their paws in salute. Then they swarmed into Zorua’s little house, grabbing the remaining sacks. Including Zorua’s, it was five in total. He’d painstakingly sorted them all by house to make the job a little easier. Although lugging a heavy sack onto a roof wasn’t going to be an easy task.
Rattata scurried apart from the pack and placed two claws in his mouth. He let out a sharp whistle and the sound of jingling bells reached Zorua’s ears. Hooves stampeded over the snow and a pack of stantler bounded effortlessly over the thick blanket. Zorua’s jaw dropped for a second time as he noticed the festive winter sawsbuck leading the herd. Behind them trailed a red sleigh, its runners leaving deep rivets in the snow. It was free of any baggage, or a passenger for that matter.
“Is that…?” Zorua’s voice trailed off as he gazed up at the magnificent reindeer pokemon.
Rattata grinned at him and hopped aboard the sleigh. “This will make things easy! Climb up, Zorua. Bring your bags.”
Zorua didn’t need asking twice. He grabbed his sack and joined the rattata beside the sleigh. With a ‘hey-hup!’ they tossed their bags into the back behind Rattata. Zorua dragged his own sack aboard, making sure it was steady atop the other four, then settled down beside Rattata.
The rat pokemon grabbed the reigns and clicked his tongue. The sawsbuck grunted and led the stantler over the snow, dragging the sleigh behind them. Then they rose into the air.
Zorua let out a startled yelp as he saw the village rooftops below him. It wasn’t for long, however. The sleigh landed atop one of the houses, not too far from his own. The one he’d visited two nights prior. The oshawott’s house.
Zorua turned to look at the chimney, his heart sinking in his chest.
“Do I need to disguise myself as Delibird?” he asked.
“No, no,” said Rattata. “That would be lying to cover up what you’ve done.” Rattata jabbed a claw into his ruff, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “You need to return the gifts yourself, not Delibird.”
A bitter taste filled Zorua’s mouth and he bit his lip. How on earth would the pokemon react when they realised it was him? That he’d been stealing presents disguised as the usually jolly and friendly Delibird?
As though he’d read his mind, Rattata reached into the sleigh beside him.
“Here.” He handed Zorua a paper bag filled with candy canes. “Leave one of these at each house. It’ll make things a little easier for you.”
Zorua frowned down at the bag. “How will sweets make it easier?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
Zorua stared at the rat pokemon. He wanted to ask how on earth he knew so much. How he had a sleigh pulled by flying stantler and sawsbuck. But before he could even gather the courage to ask, Rattata shooed him from the sleigh.
“Time is of the essence!” said Rattata. “I’ll be waiting right here.”
Zorua backed towards the chimney. “But how do I get back up?”
“Just ask.”
Zorua shook his head and grabbed the oshawott’s gift sack. Then he shimmied down the chimney. Somehow, the presents fit easily behind him. He landed softly in the fireplace and glanced around the room. It was exactly how he remembered it, save for the sad emptiness below the tree. As he moved into the room, soft snoring reached his ears. There, on the sofa, was the sleeping form of the oshawott, clutching an empty stocking. Zorua swallowed back a lump in his throat and dragged the presents towards the tree. Should he just leave the sack? Surely emptying it would rouse the sleeping hatchling.
Nevertheless, he tried his best. One present after the other, stacked neatly beneath the evergreen tree. Just as everything seemed to have been going so well, he caught one of the bells hanging from the branches. The jingle seemed to tear through the air.
A grunt came from the oshawott and he reached up a paw to rub his bleary eyes. “Delibird?”
Zorua stifled a yelp and grabbed one of the candy canes. Without thinking, he stuffed it into the stocking. But not before catching a glimpse of the card hanging from it.
‘I’m terribly sorry. Nothing I say can justify my actions. I’ve been a real, selfish Scrooge trying to fill my loneliness, and I’ve hurt others. I truly hope you can forgive me. I’ve returned your presents. Please enjoy your Christmas. Zorua.’
Tears pricked his eyes and he trotted back to the fireplace. Before he could even open his mouth, the air around him whipped up with such force he flew from the chimney top. He landed on all fours on the snowy roof, his fur bristled out like a brush. His mouth fell open and the paper bag of candy canes landed at his feet.
Rattata let out a joyous laugh and shook his head. “It takes some getting used to. Righty ho! Onto the next house!”
Zorua settled down beside him, clutching the candy canes in his paws. One of the tags stuck out from the bag, bearing the same text he’d read in Oshawott’s house. He barely even noticed when the sleigh rose back into the air.
“How have you done it?” he asked.
“Hmm?” Rattata turned to look at him, letting Sawsbuck and his herd do their job.
“The candy canes,” said Zorua. “Those gift tags. It’s like… whoever wrote them knew exactly what I wanted to say.”
“Oh, that.” Rattata shrugged his shoulders. “No one wrote anything. The candy canes did that for you. Just like I said - the sweets would make it easier.”
Zorua stared at him aghast. Delibirds sleigh. Magic candy canes. How was this rattata doing this?
“Out you get,” said Rattata. “Next stop - Trapinch’s house.”
Each stop was the same as the last. Take in the gifts. Place them under the tree. Leave a candy cane for the poor pokemon he’d robbed. It was exhausting, but after the first house things were a little easier. Zorua knew what to expect. The silent house. Sleeping pokemon (unlike Oshawott, not all of them were dozing on the sofa). The vortex that whipped him back up the chimney. After the final house, Zorua was feeling a lot better, and a lot lighter.
Rattata took the sleigh back towards his house, clutching the reigns in his paws.
“Well, that’s the last of them,” he said. “You did well.”
“Thanks.”
Zorua stared down at his paws. It had been oddly fun. But soon he’d be back in his own empty house, with no presents, alone on Christmas Day. He gazed out at his little house beneath the oran tree, its branches decked out with icicles. Each one caught the moonlight, twinkling like Christmas lights. From this height, it looked like a picture from a Christmas card.
“There’s nothing left to deliver,” said Rattata. “Why don’t we have a fly around the mountains for a while?”
Zorua looked up at him with a start, but Rattata didn’t return his gaze. Flying around in Delibird’s sleigh… wouldn’t the festive pokemon want it back?
“How did you get it?” Zorua finally asked.
“Hmm?” Rattata gave him a sideways glance.
“Delibird’s sleigh,” said Zorua. “How did you get it? How can you even fly it? How do you know about those candy canes? I haven’t even heard about them in stories!”
Rattata let out a jolly laugh and shook his head. “Oh, Zorua. If I told you everything I know about Delibird, your mind might not handle it.”
Zorua narrowed his blue eyes. “Try me! I want to know!”
Rattata merely smiled. “Let’s just enjoy the flight for a while, eh?”
Well, Zorua couldn’t argue with that. How often does one get to fly around in a sleigh pulled by flying deer pokemon? So he settled back and watched the village shrink down below him until all the houses and trees looked like toys. Soon, the village was behind them. The sleigh soared over the snowcapped mountains, lit up by the pale moonlight.
Tani River wound its way through the rocky mountains, working its way down towards Tani Village where it cut through the valley on its way towards the sea. The dense mountain forest spread out beneath them, a mish-mash of leafless trees and snowy evergreens. In the clearing he spotted their neighboring village with their faint festive lights twinkling away on the big fir tree growing in the centre.
The jingling from the stantlers’ reigns filled the air as they galloped onward, circling the mountains not once, but twice. And each time took Zorua’s breath away.
Finally, Rattata broke the silence. “I think it’s time you went home.”
Zorua couldn’t help but feel a little sad. Nevertheless, he found himself smiling.
“Okay.” He turned to face his friend. “Thanks, Rattata.”
Rattata grinned at him and steered Sawsbuck down towards Tani Village. The sleigh circled overhead once, giving Zorua a complete view of his festively decorated home. Then it touched down just outside his little house. It was very quiet. Not a single rattata in sight. Mob Boss Raticate and his pack must have returned home to their burrow.
Rattata helped him down from the sleigh.
“You’ve done well,” said Rattata. “It takes guts to own up to being naughty. I think we can safely say you are off the Naughty List!”
Zorua chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t think either of us are in the place to say that, Rattata.”
“Really?” Rattata raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” said Zorua. “It’s up to Delibird. And… he might want his sleigh back.”
Rattata tutted and shook his head. “I didn’t steal his sleigh, Zorua.”
Zorua’s eyes widened and he stuttered. “Then how did you get it?”
Rattata leant in towards him, smiling warmly. A smile that reminded him of the kindly kecleon. Then Rattata’s body began to melt away, much like his own illusions. Kecleon stood before him for a moment, still smiling, before his green form turned a vibrant red. Before Zorua stood Delibird, with that same warm smile.
Zorua’s jaw hit the floor and he staggered back until he fell onto his haunches. Delibird laughed joyfully and tucked his wings behind his back.
“You shouldn’t leap to conclusions, Zorua,” said Delibird.
“So… So…” Zorua stuttered. “You… and the rattata…”
“My helpers!” Delibird grinned. “They help me out every year, keeping an eye on the forest and the mountain villages. I have helpers all across the region, letting me know who’s naughty and nice. But I took a keen interest in you, little Zorua. No one should be alone for Christmas, least of all a child.”
Zorua felt his muzzle turn up into a smile. “Well, after tonight, I don’t feel quite so lonely.”
“Good.” Delibird placed a wing on his head and smiled. “Well, I should be off. The village will be awake soon. Merry Christmas, Zorua.”
“Merry Christmas, Delibird.”
Zorua sat and watched as the jolly penguin pokemon clambered into his sleigh. Sawsbuck reared onto his hind legs, smiling fondly at Zorua, before he kicked off and led the stantler into the sky. Zorua waited as Delibird’s sleigh circled overhead before vanishing over the mountains.
With a chuckle, he moved into his house and yawned widely. It had been a long and fun night. Now he needed to… his eyes fell on the kitchen, and he spotted the bag of berries from the berry merchant. An idea lit up in his mind and he grinned. He rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a fat pecha berry, then scurried back out into the snow. He bounded across it almost as effortlessly as the sawsbuck and stantler. Along the path into the woods until he spotted Mob Boss Raticate’s burrow. His tiny form darted through the corridors, now as silent as the houses he’d visited. He found the dining room, empty of its occupants but still decked out with festive lights and baubles.
The basket of fruit still sat on the table, although significantly emptier. He reared up and placed his own berry alongside the rest. Then he turned and left the burrow.
His heart felt a lot lighter. A lot less lonely. He trotted over the snow back towards his house, then froze. A tall shape moved through the shadow of the trees, mane billowing in the breeze and flecked with snow. A pair of yellow eyes met Zorua’s.
“Ma?” he gasped.
“Zorua!” Zoroark rushed from the shadows and embraced her son. “Oh, what are you doing out at this hour?”
Zorua returned her embrace and buried his nose in her ruff. Tears pricked his eyes and flowed down his cheeks.
“I thought you were stranded because of the snowstorm!” he sobbed.
“So did I.” Zoroark pulled back from him and smiled. “But it eased off last night, so I took a flight back with Articuno. I couldn’t bare the thought of leaving you alone at Christmas.”
Zorua wiped his cheeks with a paw and smiled. “It’s okay. I made some friends.”
“Oh?” Zoroark inclined her head on one side.
“Yeah! Mob Boss Raticate and his pack. They live in the woods!”
Zoroark raised an eyebrow. “Mob Boss? There aren’t any raticate or rattata in the woods.”
Zorua stared at her, dumbfounded. “But I just came back from their burrow!”
Zoroark followed his gaze towards the woodland path, then stood up. “Why don’t you show me?”
Zorua nodded and led his mother down the path. But when he reached the burrow, all he found was a mound of snow packed up against a rocky crag. There was nowhere it could have fallen down from, but he clawed it aside. His heart sank when all he revealed was a lump of earth and grass.
“But… it was right here,” he said. “They were celebrating Christmas. Mob Boss was dressed as Delibird. I had cake with them and…” He trailed off, his eyes growing distant as the memory began to feel like nothing more than a dream.
Zoroark placed a paw on his shoulder. “Maybe you dreamt it?”
Zorua shook his head and looked up at her. “But I…”
Of course, Delibird had called the rattata his helpers. A magic sleigh, a shape-shifting delibird, flying stantler… How Delibird couldn’t ignore a lonely child at Christmas. Would an adult really believe all that?
He smiled and shook his head again.
“You know, Ma?” He led her from the woods back towards their home. “Maybe it was just a little bit of Christmas magic.”