Fleeks looked around the clinic, adjusting her mask while she settled into a cheap plastic chair. She was hoping to apply for a job, but the staff were too busy for her to attempt applying. It wasn’t too large of a line, but it still left her anxiously tapping her foot on the ground and holding her bag with all the relevant papers close. As she watched the next person pick up their pills, someone sat down next to her, round sunglasses hiding her eyes.
The two sat there for a moment, before the woman in glasses spoke. “I didn’t know you went to this clinic, too.” she said, without introducing herself; she shook her shoulders, her sweater loosely falling around her. Fleeks didn’t recognize this person, but they apparently knew her, even if they were wrong about why she was there.
“Oh, I usually don’t.” she said, looking at her own flannel shirt and hoping she didn’t look too tired. “Um, I’m sorry, but who are you...?” she asked, confused by the other woman. She just giggled a bit, and Fleeks thought she recognized it from somewhere.
“Ah, don’t you recognize me?” she asked, and Fleeks, after a few moments, nodded, only to shake her head.
“Ah, sorry Leah.” she said, not noticing how quick she was not remember her friend. “I’m getting a bit nervous. I’m hoping to get a backup job, in case I go too long without any commissions.” she explained. Leah nodded along, lowering her glasses; Fleeks thought she saw a strange flash in her eyes, but dismissed it. Their red colour was strange, but nothing unusual for her specifically.
Before she could talk more with her... friend?, Fleeks hear someone calling for her. “Miss Fleeks? You can come in for your interview now.” they said, and Fleeks stood up, quickly saying goodbye and following along. She got a small headache while she walked by the racks of medication, various bottles and sprays on display, before heading into the back, not noticing her friend’s smile growing as she felt the couch cushion underneath her.
Fleeks followed after the nurse through a plain white hallway, stepping into a surprisingly large backroom. She moved to sit down by the desk, but the nurse instead directed her towards a small examination table. Fleeks was a bit confused, but rolled with it, climbing on top, her shoes slipping off her feet. She found it strange, given they were normally a good fit.
“Ok! So, you’re applying for a job with us, yes?” the nurse said, their voice firm but soft. Fleeks nodded, once again confused briefly by how they weren’t introducing themselves. They were a bit short, but had broad shoulders and a masculine face; as Fleeks sat on the table, she thought it looked like they were growing.
“Yeah, I saw you had an opening for something called a... Peer Support Specialist?” she said. “I have copies of my application and credentials here... um...” She looked around, confused by the fact that she didn’t have her bag with her. She thought she brought it in with her, but somehow she’d lost it. Even stranger, the interviewer didn’t seem to mind, being more concerned with the other thing she said.

“It’s fine, we already have copies from when you applied.” they said, not noticing that Fleeks’ bag had gone missing, or that she didn’t quite know what her job actually would entail. They turned to their computer, quickly typing something in, paying little attention to their guest.
Fleeks continued to look for her bag, climbing up onto the table on her hands and knees. Her shirt felt a bit large on her, and her clothes began to itch. She was growing ever-more confused, but the nurse took the odd changes around them in stride, not alarmed by Fleeks’ odd behaviour, nor by the pink bands of paint growing on the wall that distracted her from her hunt for her things.
It was hard for her to worry about some bits of paint on the walls, or changes in the posters, thanks to her own body’s changes. Her fingers felt short and stubby; her toes were shrinking. Her neck and left ear felt oddly sensitive, and something was clearly growing from them, but it was hard for her to see.
“Um, do you see what’s happening?” she asked, alarmed. The nurse smiled, leaning forward- since when were they so big?- and pet her on the head; she couldn’t deny it felt good, her ears folding back as she rumbled involuntarily, but she still didn’t understand her changes as she felt a pressure against the seat of her pants that was only relieved when they seemingly disintegrated.
“Hey, I know it’ll be a lot, but you can do it!” the nurse said, smiling. They didn’t seem to care about the fact that Fleeks’ clothes were breaking apart, leaving her bare skin on display as it grew softer. Twisting herself as best she could, with her limbs shortening awkwardly and forcing her into a quadrupedal stance, she could see it was because of the warm, soft fur on her body, her new paws turning pink while most of her coat turned white. Shaking her head, her human hair seemed to be meeting the same fate, turning pink and growing shorter.
The nurse continued to speak, cooing over her even. Fleeks would’ve been concerned that they were somehow doing this, if they didn’t seem oblivious to what was happening altogether. “You’ll do great, especially with those ribbons of yours!” She was confused by it, but as she looked down at herself, tail nervously twitching, she realized it- her body was almost done growing four prehensile feelers, twitching and turning, muscles under her control without any bones to hold them in place.
It occurred to her as she stood up cautiously on all fours that she could think of them like her tongue, as far as controlling them went. She looked at them as their tips forked, token bits of blue against her white and pink. And the comparison seemed more apt when she brushed one against the nurse, briefly sensing something odd. Holding onto them, she felt it more clearly, vicarious sensations of praise mixed with mild fears about her.
She let go, knowing that this person meant no harm. Still, she was confused; she was changed now, and looking into a mirror, about the only thing about her she recognized as herself was her green eyes, and the bits of plaid detail on her harness. Still, she did look cute at least; now that the rush of her changes was finished, it gave her a better chance to examine herself, and note that her Sylveon body was actually fairly cute and comfortable, barring her fears over the changes themselves and her inability to control herself.

“Hey, if you need a bit more practice, you can try it with me.” the nurse said, and Sylveon turned to face them. She wanted to ask ‘with what’, but she already knew it would be fruitless. Most Pokémon couldn’t talk directly with humans, having to use body language or writing to compensate. Although, the weight on her back did indicate that she should know what she was here to do.
By the time she realized it was strange, how she was mentally calling herself by her species, she was already racking her brain to remember. For the most part, she remembered her old world; Pokémon was a media franchise, and Sylveon was one of the fictional creatures. A few memories seemed to conflict with that, but she set them aside for the moment, focusing on Sylveon. She could read emotions, and calm those around her. Looking over her back, seeing the harness on her, she realized this was it; her old and new memories were in agreement, she had to be a therapy animal.
It was natural for her to work her magic after this realization; it was not only a second-nature mental motion, akin to breathing or walking, but she was trained to hone and refine it. She could target specific people, and adjust the strength of her calming influence. The nurse seemed to relax, shoulders slumping as they smiled more widely. “There we go, you’ve got this.” They stood up, clipping a leash onto Sylveon’s harness; she jumped down onto the floor on her own accord, still slightly nervous, but doing a good job hiding it.
When they stepped back out, the halls were visibly different. Soft blue bars pointed to this area as the one for support Pokémon; in the distance, she could see someone playing with what looked like an animate mass of orange crystals and blue rocks. Still, her nurse- no, this was a handler, a trainer- took her further back, into another private room where a woman sat, radiating anxiety strong enough for Sylveon to feel even without physically touching her.
“Miss Duchamp, how are you feeling?” her handler asked, pulling up a seat to face the nervous woman. Sylveon took the time to look her over; her hair was short and curly, her skin was fairly dark, one hand was in a cast, and she had on a large sweater that she kept zipped closed.
“Oh, I’m fine.” she said, doing her best to look confident and smile. Sylveon could see through this entirely, of course, although she still wasn’t sure what was upsetting her. All the same, she approached, yipping in as friendly a way as she could; while startled, Duchamp seemed relieved to see her. “Is this, ah, my... my, um...”
“Your service Pokémon, yes.” her handler replied. Sylveon smiled, looking up at the woman, doing her best to not let her own nervousness slip by. She was tempted to make a break for it, but where would she go? And besides, this woman clearly needed her help; when she extended her hand to pet Sylveon, she responded by gently wrapping her ribbons around her, feeling her anxiety much more clearly now, and releasing her soothing aura in response. It took a few seconds, and the effect was small, the woman’s fear of strangers weakening her ability to help, but it was a start.
“Oh, I see..” Duchamp replied. “Um, sorry, I... I’m not quite sure I’m ready for this...” she stammered.

“That’s alright.” the handler said. “We’ll help you with food, if that’s what you mean.” Sylveon gave them a small glare, which they quickly intuited meant they were on the wrong track. “Oh, right, if you need, I can set up a program so you can get to know each other with regular visits.”
Duchamp smiled at the offer, and Sylveon could sense that it was sincere. “Oh, thank you.” The two quickly began to negotiate the specific times, and Sylveon took it as a chance to head out into the hall. Something in the back of her mind nagged at her about it, feeling like she should stay with someone, but another part said this was fine. Her internal debate was soon interrupted, however, by the sound of something quietly jumping down from a nearby waiting chair.
The Umbreon smiled, and Sylveon thought for a moment she looked familiar. Her eyes especially reminded her of someone, although after a moment, the black-furred creature clicked for her. Of course she recognized Leah; the two were friends, weren’t they? Both of them had been training for months for their new roles as Support Pokémon, knowing that they were on the job while the harness was on. But Sylveon also remembered not knowing who this was at all, although in turn that memory was fuzzy, Leah being a human friend she’d met at some point.
“Finally got someone to adopt you as their helper, eh?” Leah asked, and Sylveon nodded, a little hesitant. Experimentally, she reached out, feeling her friend’s fur with a ribbon. It was slightly grimy, a bit of toxin in her fur that Sylveon was extra-sensitive towards. Leah seemed happy for her friend, but there was some ambient mischievousness that she noticed, although she expected that from Leah.
“I think so, yeah!” Sylveon said. “I get to be a Support Specialist.” She paused for a few moments, while Leah stood besides her, allowing Sylveon to rest her head on her. Sylveon remembered that Leah was training to be a Seeing Eye, exploiting her keen vision, similarly to how she was using her emotional powers to aide Mme. Duchamp. She blinked in surprise when Leah stepped back away, looking at her.
“I see it in your eyes, you know.” Leah said. “We’re finally living our dreams.” Sylveon was a little confused, but a quick glimpse into the metal of a spare rolling table confirmed her teal eyes were sparkling, although she couldn’t tell how much was excitement and how much was nervousness.
She remembered the months of refining her abilities, preparing for this job. Even as a young Eevee, she was one of the more affectionate ones who hung out in and around the Pokécenter; it was only natural that she evolve into Sylveon, and when she overheard the humans talking about their jobs she convinced Leah to let themselves be caught.
“Sylveon? We need you back in here!” called out a voice. Both Pokémon recognized them- Dane, the one who’d helped train them. Sylveon was dimly aware she should be confused by how she knew them, but she was already forgetting why she wouldn’t as she gave her friend a quick farewell and returned to the others. She sat down and smiled up at Mme. Duchamp, who gave a small but soft smile back.

“So, Erin, are you ready?” Dane asked. She was slightly confused, but after a moment, nodded, giving an affirmative yip. She remembered the trainers giving her that name, Erin; besides her general affection for them, it made sure she would be unlikely to get confused if someone had to address another Sylveon. Although, she vaguely remembered being called something else, before that; all her memory could say was that it was just Eevee when she was young, and Sylveon when she evolved.
“Alright, Amélie, she’s yours now!” Dane said, taking the leash from the ground where it’d fallen and passing it into her good hand. Erin followed after, smiling at her new trainer, who in turn rested her hand against the top of her head. This felt good, and when she idly wrapped a ribbon against her wrist, she could feel some of the woman’s ambient fears weakening even before she used her powers. After a moment, she jumped up onto Amélie’s lap, although she was careful not to fully pet Erin.
Dane smiled, stepping backward a little and pulling a phone from their pocket. Erin wagged her tail a bit, smiling alongside her new trainer when she realized they were getting their picture taken; she was beaming when Dane showed it to the two of them, especially loving how her bright blue eyes sparkled with excitement for the future.
Just outside the room, Leah giggled to herself, finding her own vest surprisingly comfortable. Erin didn’t seem to have any memory of her old life, which suited the Umbreon just fine; she seemed much happier in this world, and in a way was still filling the job she applied to. In the corner of her eye she saw Dane leaving the room, and motioning for her to follow; she jumped toward them, figuring that it’d be worth trying this job out herself, not minding how she was also already forgetting Erin’s human name.