Beta sat exactly where he'd fallen.
The stream gurgled beside him, cold water soaking through his pants, but he couldn't bring himself to move. Not because he was injured—though his shoulder ached where he'd hit a rock during the fall—but because three feet away, the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen was watching him with unblinking eyes.
The Dratini had not moved since he'd crawled onto the bank.
It simply... watched. Coiled elegantly on a smooth rock, its long serpentine body arranged in perfect spirals, scales catching the moonlight like liquid sapphire. The pearl on its forehead glowed faintly, pulsing with an inner light that seemed to beat in time with Beta's own heart.
"You're beautiful," Beta whispered.
The Dratini's head tilted. Its eyes—deep and ancient and impossibly intelligent—narrowed slightly. Not in suspicion, Beta realized. In acknowledgment.
It knew.
It knew it was beautiful.
And it expected him to notice.
Beta's phone buzzed. He pulled it out with shaking hands—partly from cold, partly from awe—and watched as the blue Rotom inside formed words on the screen.
DRATINI. THE POKEMON. DRAGON TYPE. EXTREMELY RARE.
"I gathered that much," Beta murmured.
DRATINI ARE KNOWN FOR THEIR ELEGANCE. THEY TAKE GREAT PRIDE IN THEIR APPEARANCE. THIS ONE IS...
The text paused. The blue Rotom circled slowly, as if choosing words carefully.
EXCEPTIONAL.
Beta looked at the Dratini with new eyes. "You're exceptional? Is that true?"
The Dratini's response was almost imperceptible—a slight lifting of its head, a subtle flaring of the fins behind its ears. But Beta saw it. Saw the way its scales seemed to shimmer just a little brighter, the way its coils tightened just a little more perfectly.
It was posing.
The Dratini was posing for him.
Beta laughed—a small, surprised sound that escaped before he could stop it. "Oh, you know it. You absolutely know how beautiful you are, don't you?"
The Dratini's eyes gleamed. Its mouth curved into what might have been a smile.
Dratini.
The sound was soft, musical, almost approving. Like Beta had passed some kind of test.
"Okay," Beta breathed. "Okay, this is—this is amazing. You're amazing. Can I—" He hesitated, suddenly shy. "Can I look at you? Properly? I'm a doctor. Well, I'm training to be a doctor. I study living things. I've never seen anything like you."
The Dratini considered him for a long moment. Then, slowly, it uncoiled—not rushing, not threatening, just... presenting. Its long body stretched along the rock, every scale catching the light, every movement deliberate and graceful.
It was showing off.
Beta couldn't help but smile.
"Thank you," he said softly. "Thank you for letting me see."
He shifted on the bank, finding a more comfortable position, and simply... looked. His eyes traced the curve of the Dratini's spine, the delicate fins behind its ears, the perfect spiral of its tail. He noted the way its scales overlapped like armor, the subtle iridescence that shifted from blue to silver to something almost purple in the right light. He studied the pearl on its forehead—smooth, luminous, pulsing with that same inner glow.
"You're not just beautiful," he said finally. "You're healthy. Exceptionally healthy. Your scales are flawless—no cracks, no discoloration. Your posture is perfect. Your movements are controlled and precise. Whatever care you've received, it's been... extraordinary."
The Dratini's eyes widened slightly. Just for a moment. Then they narrowed again, but this time with something new—interest.
"Drrr... tini?"
Beta's heart skipped. "You understood that? You understood what I said?"
DRATINI ARE HIGHLY INTELLIGENT. THEY UNDERSTAND MUCH.
Beta glanced at his phone, then back at the Dratini. "You understood that I was complimenting you. Not just your beauty—your health. Your vitality."
The Dratini's head lifted higher. Its coils shifted, rearranging themselves into a new position—one that showed off its length, its flexibility, the powerful muscles beneath those perfect scales.
It was showing him more.
Beta's medical mind kicked into gear. "Your muscle tone is excellent. You've been eating well, exercising regularly. Your environment suits you. The water here—" He glanced at the stream. "Is it special? Is that why you're here?"
The Dratini glanced at the water, then back at Beta. A tiny nod. Barely perceptible, but there.
"This stream has something you need," Beta murmured. "Minerals? A specific temperature? Some property that helps maintain your health?"
DRATINI SHED THEIR SKIN AS THEY GROW. CLEAN WATER HELPS.
"The shedding process," Beta nodded, reading the Rotom's text. "Of course. Reptilian—well, reptile-adjacent. You need moisture to shed properly, to keep your scales healthy." He looked at the Dratini with genuine admiration. "You take care of yourself. You're not just beautiful—you work at it."
The Dratini's eyes gleamed. Its smile widened.
It was preening.
Beta laughed again, warmer this time. "I respect that. I really do. I spend hours in my greenhouse at home—well, not home anymore, I guess—making sure my plants have exactly what they need. The right soil, the right light, the right water. People think it's obsessive, but..." He trailed off, suddenly self-conscious.
The Dratini's head tilted. Encouraging him to continue.
"But it's not obsession," Beta said softly. "It's care. It's love. It's saying 'you're worth the effort' every single day. And when they thrive—when they bloom, or grow, or just look healthy and happy—it's the best feeling in the world."
He looked at the Dratini, really looked, and felt something shift in his chest.
"I think you understand that."
Dratini.
The sound was soft. Approving.
Beta's phone buzzed again.
THIS DRATINI IS IMPRESSED. YOU SEE IT CLEARLY. MOST DO NOT.
"Most don't?" Beta frowned. "How could they not? You're—" He gestured helplessly. "You're right there. You're magnificent."
The Dratini's expression shifted. Something flickered in its eyes—old hurt, quickly hidden. But Beta saw it.
"People only see the surface," he realized. "They see beautiful and stop there. They don't see the work, the care, the effort that goes into being this perfect."
The Dratini looked away. Just for a moment. But it was enough.
"Hey," Beta said softly. "I see it. I see all of it. And I think—" He hesitated, then plunged ahead. "I think you're even more beautiful because of it. Because you're not just born this way. You choose to be this way. Every day. That takes strength. Dedication. Love for yourself."
The Dratini's eyes returned to him. And this time, there was no preening, no posing, no performance.
Just... connection.
"You're not vain," Beta whispered. "You're proud. And you deserve to be."
The Dratini moved.
Not fast—it never seemed to do anything fast. But deliberately, gracefully, it slid off its rock and crossed the space between them. Beta held his breath as the serpentine body came closer, closer, until finally—
It rested its head on his knee.
Beta stared down at the creature, tears pricking at his eyes. Its scales were warm against his skin. Its pearl pulsed gently, rhythmically. Its eyes were closed, content.
"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for trusting me."
The Dratini made a soft sound—not a word, just... presence. Acceptance.
They stayed like that for a long time. Beta sitting on the stream bank, soaked and cold and happier than he'd been in years. The Dratini resting on his knee, its long body curling around his legs like the world's most elegant cat. The blue Rotom watching from his phone, quietly documenting the moment.
At some point, Beta's phone buzzed gently.
GAMMA IS AWAKE. SHE ASKS IF YOU ARE OKAY.
Beta smiled. "Tell her I'm more than okay. Tell her I'm—" He looked at the Dratini, at the perfect creature choosing to rest against him. "Tell her I'm honored."
MESSAGE SENT.
ALPHA IS WITH KANGASKHAN. THEY ARE COMING. OMEGA IS WITH GASTLY. HE IS... NEGOTIATING.
Beta laughed softly. "That sounds like Omega. Always negotiating."
The Dratini's ear fins twitched at the sound of his laugh, but it didn't open its eyes.
"What about you?" Beta asked quietly. "Do you have a name? Or do you just go by Dratini?"
The Dratini's eyes opened. It looked up at him with that ancient, knowing gaze, and for a moment, Beta felt like it was seeing everything—his fears, his hopes, his loneliness, his love.
Then it lifted its head from his knee and began to move.
Beta watched, confused, as the Dratini slid back toward the stream. But it didn't leave. Instead, it paused at the water's edge and looked back at him. Then, deliberately, it turned to face the stream and gazed at its own reflection.
It stared at itself for a long moment. Then it looked back at Beta. Then at its reflection again.
"You want me to... see you?" Beta guessed. "In the water?"
The Dratini nodded.
Beta crawled to the edge of the stream—carefully, not wanting to slip—and looked down at the water. The moon had set, but the first light of dawn was painting the sky in soft pinks and golds. In the rippling surface, he could see the Dratini's reflection... and his own, beside it.
"You want me to see us together," he breathed. "You want me to see that we're—that I'm—"
He stopped. Couldn't finish.
The Dratini's reflection smiled at him.
"You think I'm worthy," Beta whispered. "Of being seen with you."
The Dratini turned from the water and looked at him directly. Its eyes were patient. Certain. Like it had known this truth long before Beta arrived.
And in that moment, Beta understood.
All his life, he'd been quiet. Invisible. The one who spoke to plants because people didn't listen. The one who faded into the background while Gamma talked and Alpha fought and Omega planned. He'd told himself he preferred it that way—that he didn't need attention, didn't need validation.
But he'd been lying.
He'd wanted to be seen. Wanted to be chosen. Wanted someone—anyone—to look at him and say you matter.
And now, here, in a world that wasn't his own, a creature of impossible beauty and ancient wisdom was doing exactly that.
"I see you," Beta said, his voice breaking. "And you see me. Is that—is that what this is?"
The Dratini moved closer. Slowly. Deliberately. It wound itself around his legs, up his torso, until its head was level with his face. Its pearl glowed warmly. Its eyes held his.
And then, gently, it pressed its forehead against his.
Beta felt something pass between them—not words, not thoughts, just... understanding. Acceptance. A bond forming that he couldn't explain but knew, with absolute certainty, would last forever.
When the Dratini pulled back, its eyes were soft. Its smile was genuine.
"Drrr... tini."
It wasn't just a sound anymore. It was a name. Its name.
Beta laughed through his tears. "Can I call you something? Something just for me? Something that means—" He gestured helplessly. "All of this?"
The Dratini considered. Then, slowly, it nodded.
Beta thought for a moment. Looked at the pearl on its forehead, glowing with inner light. Looked at the dawn breaking over the stream, painting everything in gold and rose.
"Aurora," he whispered. "Because you're beautiful like the dawn. Because you light up everything around you. Because—" He smiled. "Because you're rare and precious and I'm so lucky to have found you."
The Dratini—Aurora—tilted her head. Tested the sound. Then her smile widened, and she nodded.
Aurora.
The blue Rotom had typed it. Beta looked at his phone, at the tiny creature inside, and felt his heart swell.
"You like it too?"
ROTOM LIKES. AURORA IS GOOD NAME.
"Thank you," Beta whispered. To the Rotom. To Aurora. To whatever forces had brought him here, to this moment, to this connection.
Aurora coiled around his shoulders like the world's most elegant scarf, her head resting against his cheek, her pearl pulsing gently against his skin.
And Beta sat by the stream, watching the sunrise, feeling truly seen for the first time in his life.
---
Hours later, when the sun was fully up and the forest was alive with sound, Beta heard footsteps approaching.
He tensed, but Aurora's coils tightened reassuringly around his shoulders. Safe, the gesture seemed to say. Friend.
Gamma burst through the trees first, her face splitting into a grin when she saw him.
"BETA! You're alive! And you've got a—" She stopped, staring at the Dratini draped across his shoulders. "Is that a snake? Is that a glowing snake?"
"Dratini," Beta corrected gently. "Her name is Aurora. She's a Pokémon. A Dragon type. And she's—" He looked up at the creature beside his face, and smiled. "She's my friend."
Gamma's expression softened. "That's really sweet, Beta. Really sweet." She squinted. "Why is she looking at me like that?"
Beta glanced at Aurora. Her eyes were narrowed, her head tilted, her expression one of cool assessment.
"I think she's judging your outfit."
"My—" Gamma looked down at herself. "What's wrong with my outfit?"
"Nothing," Beta said quickly. "She just has... opinions. About appearances."
Gamma stared at the Dratini. The Dratini stared back, utterly unimpressed.
"I'm getting major 'mean girl' vibes from your new friend," Gamma said flatly.
Aurora's smile widened. It was not a friendly smile.
"Oh no," Gamma muttered. "She understood that. And she's pleased."
Beta couldn't help but laugh. "She's not mean. She's just... particular. And confident. And—"
"Vain," Gamma supplied.
"Proud," Beta corrected gently. "There's a difference."
Aurora's head lifted slightly. She looked at Beta with clear approval. Then she looked at Gamma with something that definitely said he gets it, you don't.
Gamma threw her hands up. "Fine! Fine. Be friends with the judgmental scarf-snake. See if I care."
"She's not a scarf—"
"She's literally wrapped around you like a scarf."
Beta opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. Aurora was wrapped around him like a scarf.
"...Okay, that's fair."
Gamma grinned. "I'm always fair. Now come on—Alpha's waiting by the stream with his dinosaur mom and her creepy baby, and we need to find Omega before he negotiates himself into a disaster."
"Kangaskhan," Beta corrected automatically. "Not dinosaur."
"Whatever." Gamma waved dismissively. "Let's go. And bring your fancy snake."
Aurora's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Dratini," Beta corrected quickly. "Her name is Aurora, and she's a Dratini, and she's very sensitive about—"
The Dratini made a sound. Soft. Dismissive. Then she lifted her head and looked down her snout at Gamma with an expression of profound condescension.
"Oh, I like her," Gamma deadpanned. "She's awful and I like her."
Beta sighed, but he was smiling. "She's not awful. She just has standards."
"High standards," Gamma agreed. "For everyone except you, apparently."
Beta looked at Aurora. She was watching him with those ancient, knowing eyes, and in them he saw exactly what Gamma had said—standards, for everyone except you.
"Why me?" he whispered.
Aurora's only answer was to rest her head against his cheek and close her eyes. But it was enough.
It was everything.
"Come on, you two," Gamma called, already walking. "We've got people to find and a world to figure out. And I want to introduce you to Abra. He's even lazier than you are."
"I'm not lazy," Beta protested, scrambling to his feet with Aurora adjusting gracefully around his movements. "I'm contemplative."
"You're a plant nerd who talks to himself."
"I talk to plants. There's a difference."
"Is there, though?"
Their bickering faded into the forest as they walked, two friends from another world and the creatures who'd chosen them, following a stream toward the others.
Aurora rode on Beta's shoulders like royalty, occasionally glancing at her reflection in the water and adjusting her position accordingly.
Beta didn't mind.
She was worth it.
They all were.