Nine

The leaves crunch beneath my feet as I walk. The forest path is quiet, with the occasional chirp or breeze through the branches. I wasn’t headed anywhere in particular anymore, just wandering. I know my way home, and I’m sure mom wouldn’t mind if I just walk, letting the silence stretch.

Then I heard it.

A sound that didn’t belong.

A small, broken cry. Soft, muffled… like someone trying not to be heard.

I stopped walking.

There it was again—coming from deeper within the trees.

I pushed through the brush, careful with my steps, until the source came into view.

A small pink creature, a Tinkatuff, sitting alone on a moss-covered tree stump. Its tiny arms rested limply in its lap, and its face was scrunched in frustration. It looked incomplete.

What are the chances of finding a second evolution Pokemon in the wild?

Then I noticed it. The problem.

It didn’t have a hammer.

Tinkatinks were born with one, right? Or at least, they always had one. But this one? It just sat there, hands clenched, little pink head drooped like it had lost a piece of itself. Its tears dripping down its steel plates on its waist.

I looked around. After a bit of searching through the underbrush, I found something nearby: gray hammer, plain but functional, not exactly what a Pokemon would proudly forge, but it’d do.

As I picked it up, turning to head back, something else caught my eye.

Lying half-buried in a patch of dirt was another hammer, this one almost completely rusted. Brown, rough, jagged at the edges. It looked like it had been abandoned for years.

I picked it up slowly, it was significantly heavier than the other one, even I struggled to pick it up

An idea started to form.

If Tinkatinks evolve based on the hammer they wield… and if shiny Pokémon are just rare alternate forms… then maybe…

If I gave it this hammer, this rusted brown one instead of the regular silver, would that make it shiny?

I tucked the gray one behind a nearby tree, out of sight, and returned to the stump.

The Tinkatuff was still crying, soft little sobs, like squeaks in a broken tin can.

“Hey there, little guy,” I said, crouching slowly. My voice dipped into baby-talk without me realizing. “Whatcha cryin’ for, huh? Missin’ your bonkin’ stick?”

It paused. The crying stopped. Its big, watery eyes blinked at me, cautious.

I held out the rusted hammer with both hands, like I was offering a sacred treasure.

It stared at it.

Then—

SLAP.

The hammer hit the ground. The Tinkatuff turned its head with an angry whine and began crying all over again.

“O-okay. Just say you hate me already,” I muttered, picking the hammer back up. I tried again, holding it higher this time. “Come on, it’s not that ugly. It’s got… character.”

The Pokemon sniffled, crossed its arms, and turned away with a loud, dramatic hmph.

I stood there, awkwardly holding the hammer like an idiot.

I set the hammer on the stump in front of it but didn’t say a word. I turned around, sat down beside the stump, and faced away from it, pretending to lose interest.

A few seconds passed. No movement.

Then I heard it.

A small clink—fingers brushing over the handle.

I peeked sideways.

The Tinkatuff was slowly reaching for it, eyes still suspicious. It looked at me. I didn’t move.

Then it grabbed the handle.

And for just a split second—

A flicker, like static in my vision. The Tinkatink shimmered oddly.

I stared.

The diamond shape emblem began to glitch, almost losing its shape as it intensified. It changed from a shining silver to a brown, matching its newly acquired hammer, it only lasted for a second as it returned back to its original color.

The Tinkatuff looked down at its new hammer, then its chest where the emblem is, holding it in both hands. It swung it once, awkwardly, then again—stronger.

Then it walked up to me and hugged my leg.

Not like a dramatic anime hug. More like a toddler that didn’t know how else to say “thanks.”

I sat there, stunned.

“…Guess you’re mine now, huh?”

The Pokemon looked up at me, hammer clutched tight.

And for once, I didn’t feel like I had to keep walking.

But it did. 

In fact, it started running, quickly waddling in the opposite direction away from me.

“Hey wait!” But it was too late as it disappeared in the underbrush.

Unbelievable, there’s no way there’s no way there’s no way. 

You’re telling me I actually failed a shiny?