The morning sun stretched lazily over the sleepy village near Floccesy Town. Birds chirped, crops shimmered with dew, and the world was — for once — blessedly peaceful.
Then a sound echoed through the valley.
"TEEEEEEEEE-PIG!!"
It wasn't a squeal. It was a bellow. The kind that rattled windows, woke neighbors, and probably alerted migrating Pidgey six routes over.
Inside a modest farmhouse, a blanket burrito on the couch shifted.
"...I'm awake, I'm awake," Andre muttered, voice muffled. "No need to go full subwoofer at sunrise."
The door creaked open, and a warm voice called out, "Breakfast's ready, sweetie! Before Tepig starts raiding your plate again!"
Andre sat up with a groan. "Coming, Nay Miriam."
---
In the kitchen, the smell of pan-fried berries and baked Oran-root bread filled the air. Miriam Cruz — silver-haired, sharp-eyed, and wrapped in a knit shawl — moved with practiced grace. Spatula in one hand, a mug of barley tea in the other.
Her Flaaffy, wearing a floral apron that Andre had long since stopped questioning, floated a tray of fruit onto the table using a casual flick of static.
Andre plopped into a chair, hair a mess and eyes still negotiating consciousness.
Miriam smiled as she poured him tea. "Ten years old today."
"Yup," Andre yawned. "Still short. Still sleepy. The universe is consistent."
Miriam chuckled. "You and Tepig — two of a kind."
He grinned. "Don't let him hear you say that. His ego's already four times his size."
"Which matches his body, so at least it's proportional."
---
Flashback – Three Years Ago
Andre was seven when he first helped Tepig in the fields.
Well — tried to.
Back then, Tepig wasn't just the family's oversized fire-type. He had once worked alongside Miriam's late husband, Caloy, assisting researchers from Professor Juniper's lab. Apparently, Tepig had some kind of rare regional anomaly, possibly Gigantamax-linked, though nobody could confirm it. All Andre knew was the pig was massive, sturdy, and strong enough to drag a plow solo.
Caloy used to say, "This one's a legacy, not a pet."
Andre still remembered the day Tepig accidentally roasted a compost pile by sneezing too hard. Caloy had laughed himself hoarse.
Now, the oversized fire-type helped Miriam with daily chores. A loyal partner, a walking furnace, and a surprisingly decent fruit-sorting assistant.
Flashback Ends
---
Back in the present, Andre scooped rice onto his plate. "So… today's the big day?"
Miriam nodded, taking a seat across from him. "The village ceremony's this afternoon. You'll finally be able to receive your own Pokémon."
Andre paused. "Not… Tepig?"
Miriam shook her head gently. "He was your Tat— my husband's partner. He's family. But your journey — if you choose to go on one — should begin with someone new. Someone who grows alongside you."
Andre thought about that, then shrugged. "Fine by me. I've got enough trouble waking up as it is. I don't need two fireballs yelling at dawn."
Miriam gave him a sly look. "You sure about that, anak?"
He blinked. "I thought you didn't know what that meant."
She smiled. "I don't. But you always call me Nay Miriam, and if it means something warm, I'll keep answering to it."
Andre looked away quickly and pretended to be deeply invested in his rice.
---
After breakfast, he stepped outside.
The air was fresh. The crops were green. The village buzzed with slow, simple energy.
He'd lived here nearly a decade. Long enough to know everyone's voice. Long enough for his Tagalog to rust while his accent blended in. Long enough that calling Miriam Nay felt natural — because she was.
Back in the house, she watched him through the window with a small smile.
"Happy birthday, Andre Ilustre Cruz," she whispered.
And out in the field, as Tepig belched smoke in celebration and set off a small brushfire, Andre sighed, grabbed a bucket, and muttered:
"I really just want to be normal."
Fate, somewhere in the distance, cackled in anticipation.