The Daycare Man

A cloud of dust was visible against the horizon. Anyone watching for long enough would see it come slowly closer, finally resolving itself into a young boy on a bicycle, the wind streaming through his messy dark hair. Behind him sat a Magmar with a basket full of eggs, the excitement of the ride keeping its body warm enough to incubate the eggs even through the thick wicker.

The bicycle slowed as it approached a quaint-looking house. Coming to a halt, the boy dismounted and, leaving Magmar by the bicycle, approached the house. He knocked on the door quietly.

"Hey, it's me! You phoned and said you have anther egg for me?"

The sound of shuffling was heard inside before the door opened. "Hmm, an egg? No, I'm sorry, you're mistaken. We don't have any eggs left."

"But you said you have one!" the boy protested.

The man's stern grey eyes fixed on the child. "No, I'm sorry. Come again." He shut the door firmly in the boy's face before he could say any more.

After a moment of hesitation, the boy returned to his bicycle. "Hey, Eggbasket. You heard the phone ring, didn't you?"

The Magmar nodded, a puff of flame leaving its lips. The boy's eyes drifted over the basket in its arms and the yard containing two of his Pokemon, before shrugging. "Maybe it was a prank call from someone else." He swung his leg back over the vehicle, holding the basket as his Magmar scrambled on behind him. Unseen by them, one of the trainer's Pokemon was watching from the yard as its master set off into the distance.

"Kirlia..." Huddled under a tree, the ballerina Pokemon longingly watched her trainer cycle away. A new egg was clasped tightly in her arms. She had to keep it hidden, but there was nowhere in the yard to hide it and she had never learned to teleport. Her entire life was dedicated to breeding and she knew the next part of the routine far too well.

A warning cry sounded from the shadows nearby. The Kirlia recognized her partner's voice and knew what it meant. She desperately pushed the egg into a hole beneath the tree's roots, covering it with leaves. But the shuffling was coming closer and closer.

The old man's face loomed out of nowhere. "Another egg? I'll just take that."

Kirlia positioned herself in front of the egg, her body trembling with fear and the knowledge that she couldn't protect it forever. The Daycare Man pushed her aside easily with his cane and bent to scoop up the egg. "Ah, very nice. I'd better call your trainer back." He began to shuffle back to the house. The sound of his feet was nightmare fuel for the Kirlia, who knew she would never see her egg again. She listened to the door closing and the man speaking briefly on the phone, and then silence fell.

Night soon fell with no sign of the trainer. Seated by a flickering fire, the elderly woman looked up from her book and turned to her husband. "How long has it been since you phoned?"

"Almost an hour," was the response. "Ample time. Are you hungry?"

"Of course," the old woman agreed. "How does an omelette sound?"