Anjou was exhausted. She had just spent half the day cleaning out the minifridge in the lab. Not only did she meticulously sort out the samples and arrange them by expiration date, but she had also scrubbed down the inside and outside of the unit, leaving it looking almost as good as new.
There, she thought, “Now when the professor tells me she wanted the outside of the fridge cleaned, rather than the inside, I can say that I did both!” she finished her thought aloud.
The tired scientist flopped down onto a nearby chair, wincing at the juicy squish her soaked diaper made on impact.
“Leavanny!” Slick said as he entered the room, with Duchess close behind. A thick stink followed both Pokemon.
“We’re back!" the Magearna called out before looking at Anjou and pointing. “Uh, dude, your diaper’s leaking.”
“Gah!” the woman exclaimed as she sprung out of her chair. “Shoot! Shoot!” After confirming the presence of a big wet spot on the seat of her skirt, she grabbed some paper towels and tried to mop up anything left on the chair.
Duchess chuckled. “C’mon, we’re all adults here, you can say ‘shi=’“
“By the way,” Anjou interrupted, “don’t call me ‘dude.’”
“Whatever, dudette,” the mechanical fairy said with a shrug.
“Didi! Didi!” Slick interjected, patting the full, bulky rear of the woven silk diaper he was wearing.
“Yeah,” Duchess agreed, patting the hefty load in the seat of her own cloth diaper. She looked back up at Anjou. “Well, as you can surely smell, your buggy buddy and I both need fresh diapers quite badly. Why don’t you change us first, then you can go change yourself afterwards.” She then added, “Oh, and you should probably change Little Bolty again. When Slick and I came in, he was going on about how he really needed another one, or something. It sure smelled like it!”
“‘Little Bolty?’” Anjou asked, her eye already starting to twitch.
“Um, yeah?” Duchess replied, “You know, the Rotom in the garage?” She pointed down the hall. “I thought that was the big fridge-cleaning thing you were doing all morning.” The Magearna raised a metallic eyebrow. “What, has the professor not had you change him before? She does it, like, every morning, super early.” She then muttered. “Wakes me up all the time..."
Anjou ran to the end of the hall, through a door she previously never had a reason to enter over the course of the past few weeks.
There, over in the far corner, stood a massive Frost Rotom, larger than any Anjou had ever seen, Dynamaxing notwithstanding. The giant Rotom was wearing a grumpy frown, as well as a very puffy, very full industrial-strength tape-up diaper; the garment was black, white, and dark blue, resembling a heavy style of pokeball. A sharp chemical stink permeated the garage.
“Ro! Ro, ro…” Little Bolty grumbled.
Anjou felt like yanking out her twintails right then and there. “Oh, come on!” she groaned in exasperation.
“Oh wow, seriously?” Duchess said as she and Slick caught up. “You’ve been here longer than I have. How did you not go in here before?”
“Van van?” Slick said, shrugging.
“Of course she didn’t tell me about this!” Anjou grumbled. “Ugh! She keeps doing this!” She lowered her voice as she addressed the Rotom. “Heya, big guy, I’m Anjou, and I am so, so sorry. I’ll get you changed right now, okay?”
“Rotom…" Little Bolty agreed with a terse nod.
As Anjou headed off to the changing room for supplies, Duchess waddled along behind her.
“It sounds like that professor lady keeps giving you the runaround,” the robotic Pokemon observed.
“Yeah” agreed Anjou, “she’s certainly good at making herself unavailable…"
“Well, don’t just sit there and take it!" Duchess replied, “if you have something to say to her, then you should just say it! Next time you see her, give her a piece of your mind!”
Anjou smirked. “Wise words...from someone who only talks to one person.”
“Hey, excuse you!” the Magearna said, putting her hands on her hips. “I only talk Human to one person. I’ve still been speaking Magearnan to everyone else, you know!”
“I’m sorry, you’re right, you’re right” Anjou apologized.
“But no, seriously, go talk to the woman,” Duchess reiterated. “Although, you’ll definitely wanna get a change before you do.” She pointed to Anjou’s soaked butt.
Anjou rolled her eyes.
* * *
Professor Pearwood was perusing an issue of Pocket Science magazine when Anjou marched into her office. She stood there, staring at the seated scientist, but said nothing.
After a few seconds of not responding to the intrusion, the professor finally looked up from her reading. “Is something wrong?” she asked, looking more annoyed than concerned. “I did explicitly say not to disturb me today.”
“Yes, actually,” Anjou replied as she reached back and pushed the door shut behind her. She took a seat in one of the empty chairs in front of the desk. “How about we start - “
“How about we start,” the professor interrupted, “with whether or not you cleaned the fridge yet.”
Anjou gritted her teeth. “Yes, I did. In fact, I even - “
“Just to clarify,” the professor interrupted again, “I’m talking about that Rotom in the garage, not the minifridge of samples in the main lab.”
“If you had let me finish my sentence,” Anjou replied, trying to keep her tone even, “You would have known that, not only did I clean the minifridge, but I also changed and bathed LIttle Bolty, despite the fact that you gave no clear indication whatsoever that that’s what you actually wanted me to do today.”
“Well, good,” Pearwood said with a nod. “Then I don’t see what the problem is.”
Anjou scowled. “The problem is that you keep avoiding me! You never give me the chance to just sit down and talk to you. Whether it's about clarifcation on the vague instructions you keep leaving for me, or..." She looked down for a moment, nervously exhaling before looking back up. "Look, I’ve been working here for almost a month now, and we still haven’t addressed the Donphan in the room.”
“Ah, that,” the professor responded, leaning back in her chair. “I was wondering when you were going to admit that that Leavanny of yours is actually a Ditto.”
“No, I'm - Wait, what?” Anjou asked, flabbergasted. “How did you - ?”
“Oh, please,” Pearwood cut in, waving her hand dismissively. “It’s not like he’s been doing the best job at disguising himself. Sure, Leavanny as a species tend to have small, beady eyes, but his are simple even by those standards; his mouth, too, actually. It’s such an obvious Ditto face! Nevermind the fact that he utters syllables from the word ‘Ditto’ half the time.” She leaned forward, placing her elbows on her desk. “When you’ve been around Pokemon as long as I have, you tend to notice these things.”
Anjou bristled as the professor talked. She stood up, her expression stern. “Slick is a Leavanny. Just because he wasn’t born as one, that doesn’t make him any less of one.”
“Well, biologically - “ the professor started to argue.
“Biologically what, exactly?” Anjou interrupted, her heart racing. The young woman looked her superior in the eye. “You aren’t saying people need to behave according to what they are ‘biologically,’ are you?”
Professor Pearwood sat back up. She shook her head. “Well, no, I’m not saying you - That is, I wasn’t trying to imply - “ She stopped, sighing as her gaze trailed to the floor. “All right,” she conceded, “he’s a Leavanny.”
“Right,” Anjou said, crossing her arms.
The professor looked back up, once again wearing her usual no-nonsense expression. “Well, if that’s all settled, then, I’ll be getting back to my reading.” She picked the magazine back up and opened it. “Since you’ve finished your task already, the rest of the day is yours,” she added, gesturing towards the door.
For a split second, Anjou started to turn around. She suddenly stopped herself, her face hot with anger. “No! Arceus-dammit, there you go again! You almost made me forget the entire reason I even came in here!” She crossed her arms. “What I actually wanted to discuss was - “
Pearwood interrupted yet again. “Let me guess: you want a pay increase or something? Because I can - “
The anger bubbling inside Anjou burst out. She slammed her hands down on the desk, causing the professor to jump back. “No! Stop interrupting and evading me! Just let me talk to you, Mom!”
Anjou’s eyes widened at her own outburst, but she resolutely held her gaze on the woman.
No one said anything for several seconds. At length, Professor Pearwood took off her glasses and rubbed her temples, sighing deeply. “I had been hoping to avoid having this conversation..."
“Yeah,” Anjou said, standing back up. “You made that painfully obvious.”
The professor rested her head on one hand and held out the other. “Well, I’m listening now,” she said, resignation in her voice. “Go ahead, talk.”
Anjou sighed as the rage partially subsided. “You know," she began, "when I first came here, I thought that you’d say something as soon as you saw me. I thought, perhaps naively, that if I kept everything formal and professional, just the way you like it, that you’d return the courtesy and explain yourself.”
Starting to pace around, she continued, “But then you just went and hired me, without any kind of acknowledgement that you were talking to your own daughter, and I thought, ‘well, it’s been a few years, so maybe she’s just waiting for the right moment to open up.’”
She stopped and spread her arms. “And yet, here we are, a month into this now. Please, just give me a straight answer already: Why did you leave?”
Pearwood sat back up, crossing her arms as she did so. “I think you know why,” she said, looking away, toward the wall.
Anjou leaned in, her gaze boring a hole in the side of the professor’s head. “I want to hear you say it.”
The older woman suddenly stood up, anger flashing in her eyes. “What? What do you want me to say? That life with an angsty teenager in the house was too much for me to deal with? That I couldn’t stand the antics of a goofball husband who didn’t appreciate the magnitude of my research? The research that, by the way, has been putting food on the table and keeping a roof over your heads?”
“Hey!” Anjou cut in. “Dad’s not perfect, but at least he was at my graduation! At least he’s been there for me while I continue my education!” She crossed her arms as the indignant rage bubbled back up. “Do you even know what my thesis is? Actually, do you even know what my major was? Dad does. He may not understand any of it, but at least he’s supportive!”
“Supportive?!” shouted the professor. “You want ‘supportive?!’ You wouldn’t be pursuing any kind of higher education without my financial support! Do you really think you’d be able to afford a single semester at Pineapple Academy on your father’s stupid clown-job salary?!”
“Stop talking about Dad like that!” Anjou yelled, her tone pained.
“NO!!!” the professor roared back, slamming a fist on her desk. “This is my laboratory, and I will say and do things as I see fit!”
Anjou jumped back at the outburst, stunned into silence.
Professor Pearwood stood up straight and crossed her arms. “This discussion is over. If you are to continue working here, you will address me as either ‘Professor’ or ‘Beth.’ Either way, you are not to bring up any more personal business during your stay here!” The professor didn’t even wait for a response before grabbing her coat and storming past Anjou out of her office.
Anjou stood quivering in silence. She fought the urge to cry as she tried to think of what she could have said differently.
After a few minutes, Duchess appeared in the doorway. “Hey, I heard a lot of yelling in here. The discussion didn’t go too well, huh?” she said, downcast.
All at once, the dam broke. Anjou burst into tears as she fled down the hall, sobbing uncontrollably. The door to her room slammed in the distance.
Duchess stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. She turned to look at the professor’s desk, then looked back down the hall in the direction of the lab, where she had heard her storming off to. Her expression hardened.
