Adamo Amet
patreon
Chapter no.7 Day 2
🕑 Added 2024-07-01 17:02:18 +0000 UTCAustin woke to the soft murmur of “Pika,” breaking through the haze of sleep that clung to him like a heavy fog. Blinking groggily, he turned to see Pikachu perched at the edge of the bed, its round cheeks faintly glowing with residual sparks in the dim morning light. The Pokémon’s wide brown eyes glimmered with curiosity and a touch of impatience.
“A Pikachu?” he muttered, his voice hoarse from sleep as he rubbed his eyes. Everything felt disjointed, as though he was caught in the strange limbo between dreaming and waking. The events of yesterday felt like a surreal blur—impossible to grasp.
And then it hit him.
Holy shit, yesterday wasn’t a dream!
He bolted upright, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum. The sudden movement startled Pikachu, who let out a yelp and tumbled off the bed with a surprised squeak. As Pikachu hit the floor, the air filled with the sharp tang of ozone, its cheeks sparking dangerously.
“S-Sorry, buddy!” Austin stammered, holding up his hands as if to calm the little Electric-type. “You startled me! Did you need something?”
Pikachu glared up at him, rubbing its head with a tiny paw, before pointing to its belly with an insistent “Pika Pi.”
“Right, you’re hungry,” Austin sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “Okay, give me a minute to wash up, and then we’ll get some breakfast.”
He glanced over at Spearow, curled up at the foot of the bed. Its sharp beak was tucked under its wing, and the brown-and-cream feathers rose and fell with each steady breath. Despite its usual aggressive demeanor, the little bird looked ridiculously peaceful—cute, even—in sleep.
Slipping out of bed, Austin padded toward the small bathroom attached to his room.
The tiles were cold against his feet as he stepped inside, and the chill sent a shiver up his spine. He caught his reflection in the mirror above the sink and frowned as he didn’t see his face. But what drew his attention were the bandages. He stared at himself for a moment, his reflection a harsh reminder of the danger this world posed.
Sighing, Austin began peeling off the old bandages, wincing as the adhesive tugged sharply at his skin. He gritted his teeth, hissing softly as the gauze pulled free.
The cuts had scabbed over during the night, their jagged edges tinged with red and swollen where the skin had struggled to knit itself back together. Bruises surrounded the claw marks, blooming in mottled shades of purple and green, spreading like an ugly halo around the injury.
“Hope this doesn’t leave a scar,” he muttered, tossing the blood-stained wrappings into the trash. But even as the words left his mouth, he couldn’t help but trace the claw marks lightly with his fingers, his mind racing.
Pokémon can actually hurt humans here, he thought grimly. Like, really hurt them. How did I survive Pikachu’s Thundershock? Was it holding back because of Oak? Or maybe Pikachu was just weaker than Meowth?
He turned the shower knob, and a blast of cold water shot from the nozzle, making him flinch. Gritting his teeth, he stepped under the freezing stream. The icy water hit his skin like a slap, shocking him awake and washing away the dried blood clinging to his wounds.
He hissed through his teeth as the cold water stung his injuries, but he forced himself to bear it.
After a few minutes, his body adjusted to the chill, and the sting dulled to an almost bearable level. As the water streamed over him, Austin’s thoughts drifted back to the reality of this situation.
Why was he here? How did he get pulled into this world? Was he Ash Ketchum, or was he still himself, just dropped into Ash’s shoes? The questions swirled in his mind, colliding and tangling until he felt dizzy. He tried to ground himself, focusing on the icy sting of the water, the sound of it hitting the tiles, the cold air nipping at his skin.
“No need to worry over questions you won’t get answers to,” he murmured, the words sounding hollow even to his own ears. “Just… go with it. One step at a time.”
This was his life now, and every decision he made had real consequences—for him and for the Pokémon he was responsible for.
“Let’s just enjoy this journey until you get to Sinnoh and meet God,” he joked, a dry laugh escaping him. The absurdity of it all washed over him, the thought of meeting Arceus, of confronting the being that was supposedly the creator of this world. It was insane, impossible, but so was everything else that had happened to him.
He sighed, the cold water doing little to clear the fog of confusion from his mind.
Austin stood there, water from the shower long gone, his skin still clammy and cold as he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to piece together the timeline.
How long would it take to reach Sinnoh? The question gnawed at him.
If the series progression was anything to go by, and assuming Ash does age—God, that’s a big if—he’d be around sixteen during the Sinnoh arc, assuming every region took a year to complete. That meant he might be living in this world for about six years before he could meet up with Arceus, assuming that’s even possible.
Six years. The thought alone was enough to make his head spin.
But then, how canon were the movies to the anime? If they didn’t line up, that could throw all his calculations out the window.
“Shit!” Austin swore, louder than he intended, his voice bouncing off the bathroom walls.
He pressed his forehead against the cool tiles, the chill seeping through his skin, grounding him for just a moment. “I’ll deal with this when I get to Sinnoh,” he muttered, trying to convince himself to let it go. “Let’s just enjoy these six years away from school and studying and…”
His voice trailed off as a familiar ache tightened in his chest.
His family. How would they cope without him? Did they even know he was gone? Or had his disappearance been smoothed over, another glitch in the system that no one noticed?
He could see their faces in his mind—his parents, his friends—people he never thought he’d be away from. And now, he was here, in some alternate reality with no idea if he’d ever see them again.
Would they even recognize him if he came back? Would he be the same person?
What if he never made it back?
The thought hit like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of his lungs. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing harder against the tiles, as if he could push the anxiety out through sheer force of will.
“Don’t think about it. Just… don’t,” he whispered to himself, but it was no use. The questions kept coming, relentless and unanswerable.
And then, another thought slipped through the cracks, something he hadn’t considered but now couldn’t ignore.
Wait. I’m ten now, but by the time I hit Sinnoh, I’ll be sixteen. That means… going through puberty all over again.
His eyes flew open, the realization almost comical if it weren’t so horrifying. Going through puberty was bad enough the first time—awkward growth spurts, random voice cracks, the whole nine yards. Now, he had to do it again, while fighting off evil teams, being a Pokémon trainer, and trying not to screw up the timeline too badly?
Austin let out a hollow laugh, the sound echoing in the empty bathroom. “Great. Just great.” As if being stuck in a world where Pokémon could destroy cities wasn’t enough, now he had to deal with hormones and zits all over again.
He leaned back from the tiles, running a hand through his still-damp hair. His reflection in the mirror was a stranger—wide eyes, messy hair, and a hint of fear that he couldn’t quite hide.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. One step at a time. Get through today, then tomorrow. Don’t think too far ahead. Six years was a long time, but he didn’t have to face it all at once.
He could figure this out. Somehow.
As Austin walked through the Pokémon Center, he noticed Nurse Joy behind the counter, her usual warm smile in place. He approached her, trying not to look too out of place with a Spearow perched confidently on his head.
“Good morning!” Nurse Joy greeted cheerfully, her eyes flicking upward. Her smile faltered just a fraction before she let out a soft laugh. “You’ve got an interesting hat today.”
“Yeah, rent’s overdue, but Spearow doesn’t seem to care.”
Nurse Joy chuckled, resting her elbows on the counter. “I don’t think it’s planning to pay up anytime soon.”
“Figured,” Austin muttered as Spearow squawked indignantly, tugging at his hair as if to say, You’ll take it and like it.
At his feet, Pikachu tapped his foot impatiently.
“Alright, alright, I’m getting to it,” Austin said, holding his hands up. He turned back to Nurse Joy with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I’m still figuring out this whole Pokémon trainer thing. Pretty sure I’m doing half of it wrong.”
Nurse Joy tilted her head, her smile softening. “Oh, everyone feels like that in the beginning. Pokémon training isn’t just about battles—it’s about getting to know them. They’ve all got their own personalities, you know.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that. Spearow here’s got the personality of a landlord who raises rent every month.”
“Sounds like a challenge,” Nurse Joy said with a grin. “But challenges make good trainers. You’re doing fine.”
“Thanks,” Austin replied, genuinely appreciating her encouragement.
Spearow, however, seemed unimpressed and tugged at his hair again.
“Spearow! Quit it! I’m going to go bald if you keep this up,” Austin groaned, swatting lightly at the bird.
Spearow squawked and settled down, tucking its wings neatly, as if to say, Fine, I’ll allow it.
Nurse Joy laughed. “Looks like it’s got a flair for drama. So, what brings you over?”
“Oh, right.” Austin scratched his head, careful not to disturb Spearow. “I was wondering where the cafeteria is—and if there’s a kitchen I could use to whip up something for my Pokémon.”
“The cafeteria is just down the hall to your left,” Nurse Joy said. “As for the kitchen, you’re welcome to use it, but you’ll need to bring your own ingredients, and you’ll need an intern with you. Safety protocols.”
“Intern supervision? Sounds serious.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” she said, though her smile widened just a little too much. “They’re very… patient.”
Austin sweatdropped. “I’ll try not to burn the place down, then.”
“Good plan,” she teased, leaning on the counter. “How’s your back doing, by the way?”
He rolled his shoulders, wincing slightly. “Still sore, but manageable. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I’ll send some pain relief ointment to your room,” Nurse Joy offered. “It’ll help with the stiffness.”
“Thanks. That’ll definitely help.”
“Oh, and one more thing,” Nurse Joy added. “Your Rattata’s just about ready to be picked up. Nurse Chansey’s finishing her final checkup now. You can pick her up in about an hour.”
“That’s great.”
“Yes,” Nurse Joy said, “And one last thing—Professor Oak called asking about you. He said he’d like you to video call him as soon as possible.”
Austin froze for a second. “Professor Oak?” he repeated, keeping his voice casual. “Did he say why?”
She shook her head. “No, just that it’s important.”
“Got it. I’ll give him a call,” Austin said, pocketing his Pokédex and forcing a smile. “Thanks for everything.”
“Of course,” Nurse Joy replied brightly. “Have a good day, hero.”
“You too,” Austin replied, giving Nurse Joy a quick wave as he turned to leave.
His mind, however, was spinning. What could Professor Oak want? Austin glanced down at his Pokédex, scrolling through the contacts as he walked.
“Let’s see,” he murmured to himself. Ketchum household number, some restaurant—oh yeah, Delia worked there. Oak’s lab… huh, a ton of emergency numbers too.
His thumb hovered over the contact list, but his thoughts were interrupted by a sudden burst of sunlight.
Austin blinked, glancing around. Wait, wasn’t I supposed to be heading to the cafeteria?
Looking up, he finally saw the building he’d been aimlessly walking toward. The entrance was bustling with trainers, but what really caught his eye was the small garden visible through the open back. Pokémon lounged alongside their trainers under shady gazebos, their soft chirps and relaxed murmurs blending into a peaceful background hum.
Pikachu, however, had no interest in the scenery. The moment he spotted the food table inside, his ears perked up, and he launched himself forward like a yellow rocket. “Pika!”
“Pikachu, slow down!” Austin called, but it was too late. Pikachu skidded to a halt near the overwhelmed intern manning the table. The poor kid, looking like he’d been awake for days, was handing out plates of eggs, berries, toast, and milk to trainers while hastily refilling bowls of kibble for their Pokémon. His every move was sluggish, like he was teetering on the edge of exhaustion.
Austin grabbed a plate, shaking his head at Pikachu, who was already eyeing the kibble bowls like they were made of gold. He made his way to the back garden, finding a quiet spot under one of the gazebos. Away from the crowd, it felt peaceful—a small slice of calm in the chaos of his new life.
Pikachu followed eagerly, hopping onto the bench beside him, while Spearow fluttered off his head and landed on the table with an indignant squawk.
“You’re welcome,” Austin muttered dryly, setting his plate down.
As he picked at his eggs, a strange thought wormed its way into his mind. Are these from Pidgeys or Spearows?
His fork paused mid-air as his stomach did a flip. He remembered hints in the anime about Pokémon being used for food, but the idea of eating one made him queasy.
Pikachu glanced up at him, a piece of kibble dangling from his mouth, as if to ask what his problem was.
Austin sighed and took a tentative bite. The taste was incredible—creamy, fluffy, and rich. It was so good, in fact, that he momentarily forgot his earlier concern. “Okay, wow,” he said aloud. “Maybe I won’t question it. These eggs are amazing.”
Pikachu squeaked in agreement, munching happily on his kibble, while Spearow pecked at a berry with what could only be described as regal disdain.
“Guess I’m not going vegan anytime soon. Vegetarian, I guess,” he muttered to himself, glancing at the glass of milk on his tray. But then a strange question crossed his mind, one he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to.
I do wonder… what’s the attitude on eating Pokémon in other regions? There’s the whole Slowpoke tail thing in Johto…
The thought made his stomach churn. He grimaced, gagging slightly.
Pikachu, who had been peacefully chomping down on his kibble, gave him an unimpressed side-eye.
“Right, sorry,” he muttered, shaking off the thought. His gaze drifted to Pikachu’s bowl of kibble, the oddly colorful pieces stacked neatly in the ceramic dish. “I wonder what that stuff tastes like…”
Pikachu froze mid-bite, his eyes narrowing. He slowly placed his paw over the bowl protectively, shielding it like a prized treasure.
“Alright, alright! I wasn’t going to take it. Geez, you’re more protective of that bowl than my bank account.”
Meanwhile, Spearow had finished his berries and hopped closer to Austin’s plate, eyeing the eggs with greedy curiosity. The boy noticed immediately, narrowing his eyes at the small bird. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, pointing his fork at Spearow.
Spearow cocked his head, then hopped even closer, his beady eyes practically daring Austin to stop him.
“Alright, fine. Let’s make this interesting.”
He swapped the bowls around, sliding Pikachu’s kibble to himself, the eggs to Spearow, and the berry bowl to Pikachu. “Come on, guys. Let’s try something new for a change.”
Pikachu glared at him, cheeks sparking in protest, but the Electric-type reluctantly leaned down and stuffed a berry into his mouth. His cheeks puffed out like a squirrel hoarding acorns.
“So cute.”
Pikachu paused and blushed at the compliment. Spearow, however, immediately began scarfing down the eggs, popping bits into his beak one after another.
Austin picked up a piece of kibble and popped it into his mouth.
Big mistake.
The second it hit his tongue, he froze. It was like chewing on Styrofoam—bland, dry, and utterly tasteless. He gagged, forcing himself to swallow, and immediately reached for his glass of milk to wash it down. “This… this tastes like nothing. How do you eat this, Pikachu?”
Pikachu shrugged, entirely unbothered, as the boy grabbed a piece and held it for Spearow, hoping to ease some of the tension between them. But the moment Spearow pecked at it, the bird nearly chomped down on his hand instead.
“Ah—ouch!” Austin yelped, pulling his hand back and shaking it out. A faint red mark on his palm throbbed where the sharp beak had almost gotten him. “What the hell, Spearow? You trying to turn me into your next snack?”
Spearow flapped his wings and let out a smug squawk, his beady eyes gleaming with something the boy could only describe as amusement. Was he enjoying this?
Austin frowned, rubbing his sore palm as he studied the bird. It was clear that Spearow still had an edge to his personality—the same aggressive streak he’d shown back when he was part of the flock. But there was something different now. Sure, he was still a pain in the neck, but he wasn’t outright hostile.
Why? Austin wondered, his mind racing. Why isn’t he as aggressive as he was with his flock? Was it because he fought alongside us? Or is there something else going on here?
He thought back to everything he knew about Spearow. In the anime, Spearow eventually becomes the leader of his flock—an undeniably tough Pokémon with a chip on his shoulder. But maybe, just maybe, this Spearow wasn’t there yet.
What if he’s young? Austin’s brows furrowed as he considered the possibility. That would explain why the flock used him as bait—he was the weakest link, expendable. But he’s got potential. That much is clear. And he’s got that petty, aggressive attitude to boot. It’s probably his way of trying to prove himself.
Pikachu suddenly sparked with electricity, his cheeks crackling as he prepared to give Spearow a piece of his mind.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Austin said quickly, holding up his hands. He reached out and gently placed a hand on Pikachu’s head, easing him down. “No Thunder Shock, buddy. We’re not frying him.”
Pikachu huffed, crossing his tiny arms as he shot Spearow a dirty look. The tiny bird Pokémon, in response, puffed up his chest and let out a mocking chirp, clearly enjoying the chaos he was causing.
Austin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Okay, I can’t let this attitude slide. If I do, it’s only going to get worse.
The boy looked at the small pile of berries on the table and suddenly had an idea. He reached into his backpack and pulled out the cookbook. Flipping through it, his eyes lit up when he spotted something that made his mouth water just reading it.
“Frozen yogurt berries… covered in chocolate,” he said slowly, his voice dripping with exaggerated temptation, like he was announcing the world’s most luxurious dessert. “Add a drizzle of honey, maybe some crushed nuts on top… and voila—a heavenly snack.”
As he glanced down, he caught both Pikachu and Spearow staring at him, their mouths quite literally watering.
“What do you say, Pikachu? Want to try it?”
“Pika!” Pikachu nodded enthusiastically, his little paws gripping the table edge as he leaned closer, clearly imagining the treat.
“And we could make it even better. Maybe toss in some caramel drizzle, a sprinkle of cinnamon… Oh, the flavors, Pikachu. You and me, buddy—tasting heaven.”
The trap was set.
Sure enough, Spearow let out an offended squawk, wings flaring slightly as he hopped closer. The tiny bird Pokémon squeaked indignantly as if to say, Why am I not included in this?!
“I don’t know, Spearow,” he said casually, flexing his hand dramatically. “My hand hurts too much to whip up snacks for just anyone. Maybe next time.”
The effect was instant. Spearow looked down, his wings drooping slightly, and gave a small, pitiful squawk.
Austin sighed softly and reached out to rub a finger over the crown of the bird’s head. Spearow stiffened at first but slowly relaxed under the gentle touch.
“Spearow,” Austin began, his voice kind but firm, “I want you to know this isn’t going to be like your old flock. I’m not here to deal with your aggressive attitude all the time. We’ve gotta work together. Let’s get along, okay? Think about it—I’ll give you snacks, train you to be stronger, give you battles, and hey, let’s be honest…” He tapped the top of his head lightly. “My head’s a pretty perfect nest, isn’t it?”
Spearow let out a hesitant chirp, tilting his head in what could only be described as thoughtful consideration.
“Good. Now eat up, genius.” Austin smirked as he slid the berry bowl toward the bird while adding some milk.
Austin felt full just watching the duo eat. He pulled out his Pokédex, almost out of habit, like it was his phone.
“Spearow: Male. Ability: Keen Eye. Current moves: Peck, Leer, Focus Energy, and Fury Attack. Age: Four months.”
Austin froze, his eyebrows shooting up. Wait—Four months?
He glanced down at the bird perched on the table, who tilted his head smugly, as if to say, Yeah, I’m awesome. What of it?
That’s way younger than I expected… And Fury Attack? You didn’t know that move the other day.
His thoughts began to race. So, Spearow must’ve learned it during that scuffle with Team Rocket. That means Pokémon actually gain experience in real-time here, just like in the games. Do they ‘level up’? Is there a cap on how many moves they can learn?
The idea of a four-move limit made his stomach churn. Man, if that’s a thing, that would suck.
“Guess I’ll ask Professor Oak about it later,” Austin mumbled, tucking the thought away for now.
Before he could close the Pokédex, something else caught his attention—a small symbol he hadn’t noticed before. Intrigued, he tapped it, and a new section labeled “Encyclopedia” popped up.
A video of Professor Oak appeared. “Hello there! Looks like you’ve found the secret function of the Pokédex. Think of this as a fun quest. As long as you encounter a Pokémon, their entry will be automatically unlocked for you to read. Enjoy!”
Austin couldn’t help but grin. He glanced over at Pikachu and Spearow, who had both finished their meals and were now staring at him intently.
“Alright,” Austin said, chuckling at their expressions. “Which one should we check out first?”
“Spearow!”
“Pika!”
Austin raised his hands, stepping in before things could escalate. “Okay, okay, let’s settle this without frying anything. I’ll pick based on who joined the team first.”
Spearow seemed to accept the logic, though he still gave Pikachu a sharp side-eye. Pikachu, meanwhile, smirked smugly, knowing exactly how this would play out.
“Let’s see what Pikachu’s entry says.”
[ Encyclopaedia Entry Number #25 ]
Pikachu are a small species of Pokémon which many people find cute, and for this reason have become quite popular as pets, even among people with little interest in Pokémon battles. This is an unfortunate fact which leads to many electrocutions, for a Pikachu can be quite dangerous to handle.
Pikachu are Pokémon which store electricity in their cheeks, but this electricity must be released on a semi-regular basis lest the Pokémon use powerful electric attacks at random, shocking everything in sight. Typically, this is handled by occasionally hooking the rodent up to a special battery which is recharged by its shock, then using the electricity to power the household. Furthermore, they do not only use Thunder Shock to release energy, but also when startled or angry, and they do not have especially forgiving tempers. Many a trainer has been hospitalized or worse when quarreling with their Pokémon, some passing away from shock wounds which could have been properly treated were the trainer not embarrassed for how this reflected upon them as a trainer.
Moreover, there is the issue of weather; Pikachu can seldom be cooped up inside for long, but they are prone to causing nearby people to be electrocuted in rain, and its tail can attract lightning in thunderstorms. Proper care involves the usage of a Poké Ball in inclement weather, but Pikachu are often reluctant to be so confined. Many inexperienced owners are equally reluctant to use them, fearing it will mark them as Pokémon trainers and force them to accept challenges and see their precious Pikachu injured.
Despite this, with a gentle spirit and proper caution, Pikachu can make for excellent pets.
As the encyclopedia entry finished, Austin leaned back, smirking at Pikachu. “So, I guess we know why you fried me when we first met. Honestly, though, if you hadn’t held back, I’d probably still be a scorch mark on Route 1. Would’ve made for a short journey.”
He laughed at his own joke, but his smile faltered as he noticed Pikachu’s reaction. The little Electric-type’s ears drooped, his tail sagged, and his eyes darted nervously to the side. His usual confident, almost cocky demeanor was gone, replaced by visible unease. Pikachu shifted on the table, his small frame stiff as if bracing for something.
“Hey… buddy?” He leaned forward, his tone softening. “What’s wrong?”
Pikachu didn’t meet his eyes. “Pika…” he murmured lowly, almost like he was apologizing for something.
It hit Austin like a Thunder Shock. Pikachu wasn’t just uneasy—he was scared. Scared of his own power. Scared of hurting someone. Maybe even scared of hurting him.
Reaching over, Austin gently placed a hand on Pikachu’s head, his fingers brushing through the soft yellow fur. “Hey, that was a dumb joke,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Pika…”
Austin sighed, letting his hand rest there, feeling the tension in Pikachu’s tiny body. “Look,” he began, his voice steady, “I get it. You’re worried about losing control, right? About shocking someone without meaning to?”
Pikachu gave the smallest of nods, his big eyes flicking up to meet Austin’s for just a moment before darting away again.
“Well, don’t be,” Austin said firmly, his tone carrying a confidence he wasn’t sure he entirely felt. “We’re going to train, alright? Every day. We’ll figure this out together, step by step. And I promise you, the chances of you having a random discharge are going to drop to zero. Zero. You’ll have more control than a gym leader’s Raichu by the time we’re done.”
“Pika…?”
Austin smiled, scratching behind Pikachu’s ears. “Yeah, that’s a promise. And if it takes some extra help to get there, then we’ll find it. Look, I’ll put this special battery on our to-buy list. I’ll find one for you, no matter how much it costs.”
Pikachu’s eyes widened slightly, the nervous tension in his body easing a fraction.
“Yep. I don’t care if I have to save up for a year or haggle like crazy. Whatever it takes to help you feel safe, buddy, I’ll do it. We’re in this together.”
Pikachu stared at him for a long moment, his little face still uncertain but softening with something that looked like trust. Slowly, he nodded, his ears perking up slightly.
“That’s more like it,” Austin said, a grin tugging at his lips. “We’ve got this. You’ve got this.”
He was about to say more when a sudden, sharp chirp! Broke through the quiet moment.
“Ah!” Austin yelped, jumping slightly as the sound rang through his ears. “Spearow!” He turned to glare at the tiny bird looking far too pleased with himself.
Austin groaned, rubbing his ear with his pinky. “Well, aren’t you excited? What’s the matter? Jealous of the bonding moment? Want some scratches too?”
Spearow gave an indignant squawk, hopping closer as if daring Austin to try.
Pikachu, now more himself, let out a squeaky laugh.
[ Encyclopaedia Entry Number #21 ]
When children are too young to train Pokémon, their mothers typically give them two pieces of advice: “Don’t go into the tall grass” and “under no circumstances make a Spearow mad.” It would do more trainers well to heed the second piece of advice, even once they get their first Pokémon; alas, many are too hotheaded to listen.
Spearow are a rare and cowardly Pokémon, but quick to anger. If a trainer is too weak to capture or kill one they antagonize (and they are quick to anger), a Spearow will call for backup from its friends, and young children who struggle with one of them now battle a whole flock.
Sometimes trainers have already captured an Electric, Ice, or Rock Pokémon and can use its type advantage to survive, albeit typically in critical condition and dire need of a Pokémon Center. Far more often, young trainers are pecked and scratched to death, and their bodies, along with those of their Pokémon, feed the victorious flock for an entire week.
Austin stared at the entry on his Pokédex, his face pale. His hand slowly slid up to cover his face as the full weight of what he’d just read sank in. His mind went completely blank, save for one horrifying realization.
How close was I to being bird food yesterday?!
He replayed the memory in his head—running as the Spearow flock descended on him, their talons slashing, their beaks stabbing, and the fury in their red eyes.
The boy gulped, his hands trembling slightly as he lowered the Pokédex. I was one peck away from being a corpse in the tall grass.
He glanced nervously over at Spearow, who was perched on the edge of the table, grooming its feathers like it didn’t have a care in the world. Pikachu, however, was watching the tiny bird with narrowed eyes, sparks crackling faintly from his cheeks. It didn’t take a genius to see that Pikachu was still suspicious of their new “teammate.”
Spearow, of course, noticed the Electric-type’s stare and cocked its head, giving Pikachu a pointed look that practically screamed, What are you gonna do about it?
Austin could feel the tension in the air like a live wire. Oh, great, he thought, wiping his clammy hands on his jeans.
“Alright, let’s calm down here,” Austin said, raising his hands in a placating gesture as he stepped between them. “Pikachu, buddy, listen to me. Spearow’s not our enemy anymore. He’s on our team now, okay?”
Pikachu tilted his head, unconvinced, and crossed his tiny arms. His tail twitched as another faint spark danced off his cheeks.
“Come on, Pikachu,” Austin tried again, crouching down to meet the Electric-type’s eyes. “I know his flock tried to peck us to death yesterday—“
“Pika!” Pikachu interrupted, pointing dramatically at Spearow as if to say, Exactly! Case closed.
Austin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, fair point. But Spearow isn’t his flock, remember? And now he’s with us. That’s how it works. We’re a team, and teams trust each other. Right?”
Pikachu looked unconvinced but glanced back at Spearow, who had paused his grooming to puff out his chest smugly. It was like the bird was daring Pikachu to try something.
Austin groaned inwardly. You’re not helping, Spearow.
“Listen, Pikachu,” Austin said, his voice softening. “I need you to trust me on this. I promise Spearow’s not going to hurt you—or me. And if he tries anything, you’ve got my permission to zap him into next week. Deal?”
Pikachu’s ears twitched at that, and he gave Spearow one last glare before nodding reluctantly. “Pika,” he said, though it was clear he’d be keeping a close eye on the tiny bird.
Austin let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Good. Thanks, buddy.” He gave Pikachu a gentle scratch behind the ears, earning a contented squeak in response.
Spearow, meanwhile, let out a soft squawk, as if mocking the entire exchange. Austin shot him a look. “And you. No funny business, got it?”
Spearow blinked innocently, as if to say, Who, me?
Austin groaned. Being a trainer is hard work.
“Alright, let’s get moving!” he announced, standing up and stretching. He needed to break the tense atmosphere before things spiraled again. “Snacks, anyone?”
“Pika!”
“Spear!”
Austin chuckled. “That’s what I thought.”
The trip to the shop was quick but left Austin feeling significantly lighter—both emotionally and financially. His wallet had taken a 200 Pokédollar hit in exchange for berries, yogurt, chocolates, and a bag of chips. He figured it was worth it. If food could keep his team happy and distracted from their differences, it was an investment he was willing to make.
As they walked back to their room, Austin noticed both Pikachu and Spearow eyeing the bags he was carrying like vultures circling a meal.
“Seriously, guys? I just risked my bank account for you, and all you care about is the snacks?”
Pikachu didn’t even look up, his focus laser-locked on the bag.
Spearow let out a squawk of agreement, his talons clicking against the floor as he hurried to keep pace with Austin.
“Unbelievable,” Austin muttered, shaking his head as he pushed open the door to their room. “Food is the way to your hearts, huh?”
Setting the bags down, Austin pulled out Rattata’s Pokéball with a small smile. “Alright, let’s get you out of there—hello ther—“
Before he could finish, pain exploded across his face like a thunderbolt. He stumbled back, crashing onto the floor as stars danced in his vision. His nose throbbed, and a fiery ache shot through his skull.
“What the—?!” he groaned, blinking up at the ceiling, trying to process what had just happened. His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp, panicked cry.
“Pika?!”
Electricity crackled dangerously as Pikachu stood on the table, cheeks sparking wildly.
“Pikachu, wait!” Austin raised a shaky hand, his voice strained but urgent. “Don’t—“
Spearow, however, had no such restraint. With an aggressive squawk, the bird launched himself into action, wings flapping furiously. Was he trying to protect Austin, or just reacting to the sudden chaos? Austin couldn’t tell.
Spearow swooped toward Rattata, his sharp beak glinting as he aimed a Peck at the tiny Pokémon.
“Wait, no—stop it!” Austin yelled, scrambling to his feet as fast as his aching body would allow.
Rattata moved like lightning, darting to the side with a terrified squeak. Spearow’s attack missed, and his momentum carried him straight into the nearby window.
Crash!
Glass shattered, the deafening noise cutting through the room as shards flew everywhere. Austin instinctively threw up his arms to shield himself, feeling tiny, stinging cuts on his skin as the pieces rained down.
“Enough!” he roared, his voice hoarse with panic. He staggered upright, taking in the chaos: Spearow flapping wildly near the broken window, Pikachu still sparking with tension, and Rattata, curled up in the corner, trembling violently.
She looked so small. So scared.
The door slammed open, and Nurse Joy rushed in with a Chansey at her side. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene—the shattered glass, the Pokémon on edge, and Austin, bleeding and looking like he’d just walked out of a warzone.
“I—I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Austin blurted out, his words tumbling over each other in a frantic mess. “The window—I didn’t think Rattata would react like that, and—“
“Hold on,” Nurse Joy interrupted, her calm, professional demeanor cutting through his panic. “You’re bleeding.”
Austin blinked, confused. “What?” He reached up to his face and winced as his fingers brushed against his nose. A sharp sting shot through him, and when he pulled his hand back, it was smeared with blood.
Looking in the mirror across the room, he saw it: his nose was clearly broken, and blood was dripping steadily down his face.
“Great. Just great,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration and pain.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement—Rattata making a desperate dash for the door. Without thinking, Austin grabbed her Pokéball and recalled her in a flash of red light before she could escape. The room fell eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of the Pokémon Center and Austin’s ragged breathing.
Nurse Joy was at his side in an instant, her movements calm and precise, though there was an edge of concern in her voice. “Stay still. Your nose is broken,” she said as she knelt down next to Austin. Her tone left no room for argument.
Austin winced, still half-dazed. “Broken? Great. What else is new?” His voice came out muffled as he pinched the bridge of his nose instinctively, trying to stop the bleeding.
“Let me see,” she said, gently pulling his hand away. Her face scrunched slightly as she examined him. “This might sting a bit.”
“Sting? Nurse Joy, my face feels like I headbutted a Golem,” he muttered, though he stayed still as she began to work.
“That does seem like something you’d do.”
Austin gave her a weak grin through the pain. “Funny. You should take that act on the road.”
“Maybe I will,” she replied, not missing a beat, as she carefully adjusted his nose.
Behind them, Chansey waddled into the room, balancing a small tray of medical supplies in her stubby arms. She gave a soft “Chansey!” and placed the tray down before surveying the shattered window and scattered glass.
Pikachu took one look at Chansey and immediately grabbed a broom leaning against the wall. He let out a determined “Pika!” and started sweeping the broken shards with tiny, focused movements.
“Pikachu… what are you doing?”
Chansey clapped her little hands together in approval. “Chansey!”
“Alright, alright, overachiever,” Austin muttered, leaning back slightly as Nurse Joy gently dabbed at a cut on his cheek.
Meanwhile, Spearow was perched on the headboard of the bed.
“Spearow,” he said, his tone sharp, “help them.”
The bird’s feathers puffed up in indignation, his beady eyes glaring at Austin as if to say, Excuse me?
“Spearow,” Austin repeated, his voice firm this time. “Now!”
With a squawk that sounded suspiciously like a teenager saying, Ugh, fine, Spearow fluttered down to the floor. He began picking up larger shards of glass with his beak, occasionally tossing them into the dustpan Chansey held.
Nurse Joy glanced up from her work, watching the scene unfold. “You’ve got a way with your Pokémon,” she said lightly, though there was a trace of amusement in her tone.
“Way with them? More like they’ve got a way with me.”
“Well, considering the number of injuries you’ve racked up in, what, a day? I can’t complain. Keeps me in business,” she said, her lips twitching into a teasing smile.
Austin raised an eyebrow, half-skeptical. “Wait a second—aren’t Pokémon Centers free?”
“Oh, yeah, but I’m thinking of charging you especially,” Nurse Joy said with a sly smile as she carefully removed another glass shard from his arm, the blood glinting faintly under the light.
Austin flinched, wincing at the sharp sting. “Mercy! Please, Nurse Joy, have mercy!” he pleaded dramatically, though his voice cracked just enough to show he wasn’t entirely kidding.
Her laugh was light, but her hands remained steady as she worked.
“Great,” Austin muttered, gritting his teeth as she pulled out another shard. “I’ll go down in history as the trainer who ruined universal healthcare.”
Nurse Joy chuckled as the boy let out a half-hearted laugh but immediately winced as another sharp sting shot through his arm.
Okay, Austin, he thought, if you want to make it out of this journey in one piece, you need to start being more cautious. Think things through. Assume the worst.
His eyes drifted down to the Pokéball resting in his hand. The glossy red-and-white surface gleamed faintly in the light, but his thoughts were heavier than the ball itself.
What do I do with you now, Rattata?
He turned the Pokéball over in his palm, the weight of it suddenly feeling more significant. She was scared—terrified, even. And why wouldn’t she be? He’d caught her in a moment of desperation, and she clearly didn’t trust him yet.
Nurse Joy glanced at him as she finished removing the last shard of glass, her tone softening. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”
Austin hesitated, then held up the Pokéball. “It’s Rattata. She’s… she’s scared of me. If I let her out, she’ll bolt. I don’t know how to get through to her.”
Nurse Joy studied him for a moment before setting down her tools. “Can I see her Pokéball?”
Confused, Austin handed it over. He watched as she twisted the front button, and to his surprise, the red top of the Pokéball faded, revealing a tiny Rattata curled up inside.
His jaw dropped. That’s… that’s like something from the Pokémon manga!
Nurse Joy chuckled. “It’s a feature most trainers don’t know about. It’s meant to help you understand your Pokémon better. Look at her—she’s scared. She doesn’t trust you yet.”
Austin stared at the tiny Pokémon, her little body trembling even inside the ball.
“Talk to her,” Nurse Joy continued, handing the Pokéball back to him. “Help her understand that you’re not going to hurt her. She needs to feel safe with you. Trust takes time, but you’ll get there.”
Austin nodded slowly, her words sinking in. “Thanks,” he said quietly.
“I need to get back to work,” Nurse Joy said, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Take care of yourself—and your Pokémon.”
As the door clicked shut behind her, Austin sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, staring at the Pokéball in his hand. The room felt too quiet now, and the weight of what had just happened pressed down on him like a ton of bricks.
Austin turned the transparent Pokéball over in his palm, his brow furrowed in disbelief. How does this even work? He tilted the ball slightly, as if doing so might reveal some hidden secret. The science of this world was on another level, and no amount of thinking was going to help him figure it out.
A soft squeak from inside the Pokéball broke his train of thought. He blinked, focusing on the miniature Rattata curled up inside.
“You pack quite the punch, you know that?” Austin said softly, tilting the Pokéball so Rattata was in full view. Her small body trembled slightly, and he could see the tension in her tiny form.
Pikachu snorted audibly, his ears flicking back in clear annoyance as he glared at the Pokéball.
“Okay, buddy, chill,” Austin said. “She didn’t mean to cause trouble. She was scared.”
“Pika,” Pikachu grumbled.
“Oh, really? Like you weren’t scared when we first met? You literally zapped me into next week.”
Pikachu’s ears twitched, and he let out a huff, turning away with an exaggerated flick of his tail. His expression screamed, That was different.
Austin smirked but didn’t push further. Instead, he turned his attention back to Rattata’s Pokéball. “Don’t worry,” he said gently. “He’s just protective. It’s a new environment for all of us.”
Rattata’s small eyes darted around warily, but there was a flicker of something else there—curiosity, maybe.
“Look, we got off on the wrong foot,” Austin continued. “My name’s Austin, and I’m your trainer. And I get it—you’re scared. You’ve got no reason to trust me yet. But… maybe we can change that?”
Rattata tilted her head slightly, her ears perking up. Austin wasn’t sure if she understood him, but at least she wasn’t outright panicking.
“Trainer,” he repeated. “You know, we go on adventures, battle sometimes, eat good food… especially the food.”
That last part seemed to hit a nerve. Her ears twitched again, and her nose wiggled slightly, like the mere mention of food had flipped a switch.
“Oh, so that’s what gets your attention, huh? Food?”
Rattata’s tiny body leaned forward, just a little, her tail flicking with interest.
“Alright, let’s make a deal,” Austin said, gripping the Pokéball a little tighter. “I’ll let you out, but you have to promise me you won’t run away. Deal?”
Rattata hesitated but eventually gave a small, tentative nod.
Taking a deep breath, Austin pressed the button on the Pokéball, releasing her in a flash of light. She appeared on the floor, her tiny body tense, but she didn’t bolt.
“Good start,” Austin said softly, reaching into his bag. He pulled out a handful of berries and held them out to her with an open palm.
Rattata sniffed the air cautiously before inching forward, her little nose twitching furiously. Finally, she took a bite, nibbling at the berries with quick, precise movements.
Austin watched her, something warm settling in his chest. It wasn’t just relief—there was something heartwarming about seeing her relax, even if it was just for food. She wasn’t some wild Pokémon anymore. She was part of this crazy, mismatched team he was building.
The peaceful moment shattered with a loud screech.
Austin’s head snapped up to see Spearow perched on the edge of the bed, his beak glowing ominously as he prepared to dive at Rattata.
“Spearow!” Austin barked. “Stand down, or no snacks for you!”
Spearow froze mid-flap, his head jerking toward Austin. He let out a disgruntled squawk before reluctantly settling down, hopping back to the headboard. His eyes, however, stayed locked on Rattata, sharp and calculating.
“Yeah, yeah, I see you,” Austin muttered. “But if you so much as think about dive-bombing her again, you’re sleeping outside tonight.”
Spearow ruffled his feathers indignantly, but he didn’t make another move.
Rattata, meanwhile, hadn’t stopped eating. If she noticed the near attack, she didn’t show it. She was laser-focused on the berries, her little body hunched protectively over her meal.
“Don’t worry,” Austin continued. “As long as I’m here, you’ll be safe. I promise.”
The words felt heavier than he expected, like he was making a vow not just to her, but to himself.
For a moment, the room felt still, as if the words were sinking in for all of them.
Austin let out a slow breath, standing back up. “Alright, team,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s take it one step at a time.”
Pikachu gave a soft “Pika,” his tail flicking in agreement, while Spearow let out a grudging squawk, clearly too proud to openly agree but not entirely against the idea.
As for Rattata, she finished the last of her berries and looked up at Austin, her tiny eyes less fearful than before. It wasn’t much. But it was a start.
“Are you… okay?” Austin asked cautiously, eyeing the intern who looked one sneeze away from passing out. The guy’s pink hair was an absolute mess, sticking out in every direction, and the dark bags under his half-closed eyes made him look like he hadn’t seen a bed—or basic human joy—in days. He leaned against the counter like it was the only thing keeping him upright.
The intern let out a long, dramatic sigh, like he was carrying the weight of the entire Pokémon Center on his back. “Define… okay.” His voice was monotone, and he blinked slowly, as though even that required monumental effort.
Austin raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I meant, like… are you good? You look like you’re about to keel over.”
“I’m fine,” the intern mumbled, wobbling slightly on his feet. “Totally fine. Just… what do you need? Dehydrator? Freeze dryer? Blast chiller? Or… I don’t know… a time machine?”
Austin tilted his head. “Why would I need all that?”
The intern stared at him like he’d just asked why water was wet. “To… make snacks? For the road? You freeze-dry fruit, dehydrate meat… maybe vacuum-seal it? You know, basic survival stuff.” He yawned mid-sentence, his words slurring together. “Otherwise, your snacks are gonna go bad and you’ll starve in the wilderness or something. Trust me… it happens…”
“Right.” Austin shot a glance at his Pokémon. Pikachu, Spearow, and Rattata were darting around the gleaming kitchen, poking their noses into cupboards and sniffing every utensil they came across. The kitchen itself was a pristine, stainless steel wonderland filled with gadgets and appliances Austin couldn’t even name, let alone use. Honestly, it was intimidating.
“Well,” Austin began, hoping to keep it simple, “I was just planning to use a double boiler and maybe the freezer. You know, old-school.”
The intern froze mid-yawn, his eyes snapping open just a fraction wider. He stared at Austin like he’d just witnessed something miraculous. “You…” He pointed a shaky finger at him. “You’re… the Messiah.”
Austin blinked, caught completely off guard. “…What?”
“The culinary Messiah!” the intern whispered with the kind of reverence usually reserved for legendary Pokémon. His voice trembled like he’d just had a religious experience. “The chosen one… sent to save us from… the tyranny of… overcomplicated machines.”
Austin stared at him, completely baffled. “Dude, it’s just a double boiler.”
The intern leaned closer, his bloodshot eyes narrowing. “A double boiler… of destiny.”
“Okay,” Austin said, holding up his hands. “You need sleep. Like, right now.”
The intern straightened—or at least tried to, but his posture still screamed about to collapse. “You’re right. Sleep is good. I’ll go do that.” He started stumbling toward the door, muttering under his breath. “But you… you are the truth.”
“Uh, thanks?”
As the intern shuffled toward the exit, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “Or… maybe you’re a false prophet. I’ll decide after my nap.” And with that, he collapsed face-first onto the floor, dead asleep before he even hit the tile.
Austin blinked down at the snoring figure. “Okay, then.” He turned back to his Pokémon, exhaling slowly. “Well, that happened.”
“Pika!” Pikachu called out, drawing his attention. The little electric mouse stood on the counter, one paw pressed against a teetering cup that looked moments away from falling. Pikachu’s wide-eyed expression screamed oops, and Austin could already feel his stress levels rising.
“Seriously?” he muttered, moving to grab the cup before it could shatter. “Pikachu, do me a favor—don’t make my day harder than it already is.”
Pikachu tilted his head innocently.
Meanwhile, Rattata was nosing around a bag of flour on the floor, looking far too interested for Austin’s liking.
He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I really, really need to find Brock and convince him to join me.”
As if on cue, the intern snored loudly, mumbling something unintelligible about “prophecies” and “kitchen appliances.” Austin shook his head, muttering under his breath. “Yeah. Definitely need Brock.”
