The next morning arrived gently, wrapped in mist and birdsong.
New Bark Town stirred to life with the quiet rhythm of a town used to slow mornings: shutters opening one by one, warm bread scenting the streets, and the low murmur of townsfolk greeting each other like they always had, as though nothing in the world had ever changed. But for Ash and his classmates, something had changed.
It was the final day of their time in Johto.
Tomorrow, they would travel again. To Hoenn, where the next phase of their interregional program would begin.
They were walking to the airport together. Not in a line, not in groups, just near enough to hear each other's footsteps on the gravel path.
The air smelled faintly of woodsmoke and damp leaves. The same Marill from the day before bounced past them, chasing a bright red berry across the road. A local waved from their garden, and Yellow waved back.
Ash kept his hands in his pockets, the bundle of herbs tucked carefully inside his bag. His thoughts were quiet. Not clouded. Not distant. Just still.
Johto had been gentle with them.
Not unchallenging, not empty; but gentle, in the way that mattered. In the way that left something behind.
At the airport, the platform was half-shadowed, the train not yet in sight.
Professor Elm stood at the edge of the boarding area with a clipboard under one arm and a cup of tea in the other. He looked as though he'd already been there for hours, though his hair still stuck up in its usual chaotic way.
"Safe travels," he said, without preamble. "I expect reports from all of you once you've settled in."
Chloe nodded politely, Green gave a cheerful salute, Goh muttered something half-audible, clutching his satchel with one arm and adjusting his cap with the other. Elm's gaze lingered on the boy a beat longer than the others, then flicked to Ash.
Their eyes met briefly, Elm gave a small, knowing nod. Not one of encouragement, or farewell; but something steadier. Like acknowledgment.
Ash returned the nod, slow and careful. His bag felt heavier than usual.
The platform filled gradually. Luggage wheels clicked over tile. A Pidgey flew overhead, its shadow gliding across the group like a parting whisper. Yellow stood beside Green, arms folded gently behind her back, eyes on the morning horizon. Gary chatted with Goh, the two of them moving in and out of conversation like the tide: laughter, silence, laughter again.
Ash sat next to Chloe, their shoulders nearly touching as they both watched the golden light of morning spill across the training grounds, casting long, soft shadows over the dew-dappled grass. Neither of them spoke at first; the weight of the past few weeks hung in the air like mist, unspoken but deeply felt. Chloe sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, eyes distant, as if trying to hold on to something that was already slipping away. Ash glanced sideways at her, noticing how the breeze caught in her hair, how her expression carried both strength and uncertainty, and felt a quiet ache settle in his chest.
She glanced up at him. "Do you think we'll miss this place?"
He looked out toward the mountains. "Yeah," he said simply.
"I think Johto will miss us too," she said, voice almost too soft for the wind.
"...Yeah."
——
The hours passed, slow and silver. The sky outside had begun to change again, no longer pale with morning, but tinged with that strange golden-gray light that came before landfall. Somewhere beneath them, a new region stirred.
The cabin had gone quiet.
Most of the others were asleep or halfway there.
Yellow sat curled in her seat, blanket drawn around her shoulders. Her sketchbook had slipped sideways in her lap, pencil still tucked behind her ear. Her breathing was soft, so steady that Ash could sense the echo of it in his Aura sight, a gentle rhythm like waves brushing against shore.
He didn't move. Just watched her from across the aisle, studying the way her hair caught the light, the small crease in her brow that never fully smoothed, even in sleep.
The Viridian gift within her had continued to shift.
In Johto, it had stretched its roots deeper, twining with something old in the forest there. Ash had felt it that night she came to his room, how the power in her didn't sleep even when she did.
And in Hoenn… it would wake even more.
Gary was slumped against the window ahead of him, arms crossed, cap pulled down, one foot twitching faintly in dream. Green had leaned sideways into the seat divider, earbuds in, eyes closed, though her hand still rested on her Pokégear.
Chloe's head had tipped to the side, resting lightly on his shoulder. Her book lay forgotten on the tray table, still open to a section on Hoenn's ecological zones. A faint smile played on her lips, and her breathing had slowed, steady with sleep, as the soft rhythm of the train lulled her deeper into dreams, the morning light casting gentle patterns through the window across her hair.
Across the aisle, Goh sat in silence, his journal resting shut on his knees, fingers still curled loosely around its spine. He wasn't asleep, though he hadn't moved in some time. His eyes were open, fixed, unblinking. Gazing toward the far edge of the window as though trying to see beyond the curve of the horizon itself, beyond the mountains and clouds and sky, chasing something invisible, unknowable.
Ash shifted slightly and leaned back.
Then—
A soft chime.
"Hello, this is your captain speaking…"
The voice crackled gently through the cabin, and heads began to lift.
"We'll be arriving in Slateport shortly. Local time is 6:17 PM. Skies are clear, with a temperature of twenty-four degrees Celsius. Please ensure your seatbelts are fastened and your belongings secured. We'll begin our descent momentarily."
Around him, the others stirred.
Yellow blinked awake, mumbling something incoherent. Goh shifted, pulling his notebook back into his lap. Gary cracked his back with a dramatic grunt. Green sat up, re-braiding her hair one-handed while checking the time.
Chloe stirred last, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Her blanket slipped off her shoulder.
She gave a small, drowsy smile. "Thanks."
"You drooled a little," he said, straight-faced.
"I did not!" she whispered, scandalized.
"You definitely did," Gary added, from the row ahead.
Chloe went red. Ash chuckled.
Outside the window, Hoenn had begun to rise from the sea. Low emerald hills, dense jungle, snaking rivers, and a coastline that stretched like a wound made of light and color. It shimmered under the last rays of evening sun, gold glinting on tidepools and rooftops and the glass curve of Slateport's main terminal.
——
They arrived at the airport terminal.
The shuttle landed with a gentle thrum and a quiet release of pressurized air. Beyond the windows, the landing strip glowed in muted blue and amber tones. Tall pines swayed in the breeze, their outlines both recognizable and strangely unfamiliar.
Ash stepped off the plane ahead of the others, hood up, bag hanging from one shoulder. Unlike Johto, where everything felt quieter, Hoenn felt alive: humid and humming, like the land itself was breathing just beneath the surface.
The rest of the group finally left the plane. And just like Ash, they were impressed.
Even Goh, who had been quiet for most of the flight, blinked rapidly as he took in the sweeping view from the elevated tarmac. The town nestled in the gentle rise of green hills, rooftops layered in earthy tiles, and the iconic pagoda towers rising like echoes from a different century. Mist curled around the edges of the buildings, where old met older, and the forest pressed in from the edges like a silent guardian.
Chloe turned in a slow circle, eyes wide. "It's like we flew into a painting…"
Green gave a low whistle. "I knew Johto was old, but this? This place breathes history."
Beside her, Yellow tilted her head, unusually still, as if listening to something the others couldn't hear. Her voice was soft. "There's a lot of memory here…"
Yellow's voice trailed off, but the air seemed to catch it and hold it. Something unspoken trembled just beneath the hum of arriving shuttles and far-off engines. Ash glanced at her.
The others didn't seem to notice. Chloe was already reaching for her Pokégear, no doubt checking the orientation itinerary. Gary had pulled out his sunglasses despite the late hour and was nudging Goh with his elbow, joking about the sea air clearing the mind. Goh didn't respond. His fingers twitched against the spine of his journal again.
Professor Birch's assistant, a tall, sunburned young woman in a field vest, was waving at them from beyond the glass doors. She held a sign with the interregional program's crest and a relaxed, crooked smile that suggested she had wrangled her share of incoming groups before.
"Looks like that's our welcome party," Green said as she adjusted her satchel.
"Let's not keep them waiting," Gary added, already stepping ahead.
Ash lingered for a moment. Just one beat longer. Then he turned to follow the others.
They passed through the automated doors together. The glass parted with a hush like held breath. Outside, the heat rolled over them, not oppressive but dense, like the very air was steeped in green. Ferns clustered in the planters beside the sidewalk. Farther off, tree branches bowed under the weight of bromeliads and hanging moss.
Professor Birch was waiting by the exit, dressed in a loose button-up and cargo shorts, waving with a wide smile and a smear of dirt on one cheek. His lab coat was missing. His enthusiasm wasn't.
"Welcome to Hoenn!" he called out, voice booming. "I'm sure Elm's been treating you all to the scientific equivalent of a lullaby, so I hope you're ready to get your hands dirty. Literally. We've got fieldwork lined up for tomorrow, so don't get too comfy!"
A few groaned, mostly Gary and Green.
Birch laughed. "Ah, come on! You're here to learn, not nap! Though if you do nap, make sure it's under a big tree. You might meet a Silcoon. Or a wild Zigzagoon. Or if you're lucky, a Skitty."
Ash stepped forward with the others. The air here was different, warmer, wetter, full of salt and pollen. The sea wasn't far. He could smell it.
Birch clapped him on the shoulder as he passed. "You look like you've seen a ghost, kid."
Ash just smiled faintly. "Not yet."
Birch blinked, then laughed again. "You're gonna fit in just fine."
Birch's booming laugh echoed down the path as more students filed past, dragging luggage or adjusting backpacks, some still blinking off the sleep from their early flight. The warmth of Hoenn wrapped around them like a damp towel, already fogging up glasses and darkening the hems of trousers.
Goh adjusted the strap on his camera bag and stepped closer, frowning. "So what kind of fieldwork are we talking about? Capturing specimens? Tracking migration patterns? Surveying biodiversity?"
"Mostly getting lost in the underbrush," Birch said cheerfully. "But yes. A bit of all of that. Minus the specimen capturing. "We're observing this trip. Hoenn's wilds don't like being boxed up."
Goh crossed his arms. "Observation's fine. As long as it gets us closer to something rare. I didn't come here to count Wurmple."
Then Birch clapped his hands together, the spell broken. "Alright! You've got ten minutes to drop your stuff in the dorm wing, then we meet back out here. I'm giving you all maps and a crash course in how not to get eaten by a Dustox. Let's move!"
"Eaten?" Chloe echoed.
"Mostly kidding," Birch called back.
Gary groaned. "This is going to be Elm's lectures but in the swamp."
Green smirked. "At least it'll be harder for Goh to trip over his own ego with all the mud."
"Say that again?" Goh shot back, whirling.
"Children," Birch said with exaggerated patience. "Save it for when the Torchic start chasing you."
——
Inside, the entrance hall smelled of salt and citrus oil. Staff handed out room keys and maps. Green snagged two for herself and Yellow, giving the younger girl a reassuring shoulder squeeze. Chloe murmured something about unpacking. Gary asked if there was a weight room. Goh was already scribbling in his journal again.
Ash took his key and followed the others down the breezeway. The dorms were lined up like cabins, each door marked with small brass numbers and little carved tiles shaped like local Pokémon. His had a Lotad on it.
He stepped inside.
The room was small, but clean. A single bed, a desk, a porthole-style window. He dropped his bag, pulled the curtains back, and let the sea air wash in. Far below, the tide lapped at the shore in slow, thoughtful strokes.
The bundle of herbs he'd gathered in Johto was still tucked in the front pocket of his bag. He set it gently on the desk, the leaves dry and pale now. Still whole.
Still meaningful.
He sat down, and for the first time in days, let himself breathe.