Kato Shin set the cage on the desk, its steel frame cold and unyielding. Beside it, he unwrapped the sealed container of blood. The liquid poured smoothly into a bowl, dark and heavy with an iron scent. He slid the bowl to the edge of the cage, close enough for the bat to notice once released.
Next, he unpacked the sound-canceling headphones. The soft padding pressed firmly against his ears, muffling the outside world. In his left hand, he gripped the torchlight, thumb ready on the switch. His right hand held the Pokéball. Everything was in place.
With a quiet breath, Shin activated the Pokéball. A flash of red light burst inside the cage, expanding into form.
Zubat appeared.
The bat flapped wildly, wings slamming against the cage bars in a frantic attempt to escape. Its screeches echoed, vibrations rattling the air—but Shin remained calm, the noise dulled by the headphones.
Then Zubat froze. It tilted its head, nostrils flaring. The scent of blood reached it. Hunger sharpened its movements, drawing its attention to the bowl on the floor of the cage.
Shin caught the shift immediately. He spoke in a low voice, words deliberate, steady. "Zubat."
The bat glanced at him briefly, then back at the blood. Shin moved the bowl slightly backward, keeping it just out of reach.
Frustration surged in the creature. Zubat let out another screech, this time a Supersonic blast. The sound hit the cage, vibrating hard—but Shin heard nothing through his headphones. The attack had no effect.
Denied, Zubat reacted violently. Its body pulsed with dark energy before firing a Shadow Ball straight toward the bars.
Shin was ready. He sidestepped quickly, the attack whistling past him before bursting harmlessly against the wall. At the same moment, he flicked the torchlight on. A beam of harsh white light flooded the cage.
Zubat shrieked in pain, wings folding tight as it recoiled. The darkness-dwelling creature writhed, unable to endure the brightness.
Shin's voice cut through the chaos, calm but firm. "I don't want you as a tool. I want you as my Pokémon."
The bat hissed and launched another Shadow Ball. Shin dodged again, the light flashing. Pain forced Zubat back, but it attacked once more. Three times it tried, and three times it failed. Each time, the blinding beam and Shin's steady movements broke its resistance further.
Finally, Zubat slumped low in the cage. Its wings twitched weakly, the earlier frenzy gone. Fear lingered in its screeches now, a recognition of the trainer standing before it.
Shin kept the light steady, his voice calm. The first step was complete—establish control.
Zubat cowered in the cage, wings trembling. The earlier frenzy had drained away, leaving only fear.
For a moment, Shin's chest tightened. Regret pricked at him, sharp and unwanted. But he forced it down. Necessary. This was the only way to establish control. Without dominance, there would be no bond—only danger.
He waited in silence, counting the seconds. One minute. Two. Zubat did not move except for the faint twitch of its wings. No sudden strikes, no reckless attempts. When Shin judged it safe, he unlatched the cage door.
The moment it swung open, Zubat surged forward, wings beating fast. A desperate strike—vengeance hidden in its movements. But Shin was ready. The torchlight flared again, blinding it mid-flight. Then, darkness as he switched it off.
The rhythm repeated: light, dark, command, control. Zubat faltered, instincts clashing with fear. At last, it dropped low, wings folding tight, body sagging in submission.
Shin felt the weight of it—the fear in those small movements. Regret pressed against him again, but once more, he buried it. This was the path he had chosen.
Zubat's gaze flicked back to the blood. Hunger burned in its hollow body, yet it hesitated. Slowly, it turned toward Shin, waiting. Seeking a signal.
Shin met its eyes. He gave a small nod.
Only then did Zubat move. It lowered its head to the bowl and pressed its mouth against the surface. The liquid drained as it sucked steadily, throat pulling in the blood with quiet, rhythmic gulps.
Shin stepped closer, quiet and deliberate. He extended a hand and brushed his fingers across Zubat's back. Its skin was thin, fragile, unfamiliar beneath his touch.
Zubat stiffened at once. Its body trembled, fear surging again. But Shin didn't pull away. His hand remained firm but calm.
Gradually, the trembling eased. With each slow swallow, Zubat allowed the touch to stay.
Inside its thoughts, survival wrestled with instinct. This trainer had forced fear upon it, but he had also given food. Control came with pain, but pain came with survival. Slowly, reluctantly, Zubat convinced itself—this human might not be so bad.
The first fragile thread of trust had begun.
After a few minutes
When Zubat drained the last drop from the bowl, Shin recalled it back into the Pokéball. The red beam pulled the creature inside, sealing the fragile trust for now.
He placed the Pokéball at his side and stood. The room was quiet, but his thoughts were not. The first step was complete. Now came recognition.
Shin left his quarters and moved through the dim corridors. His steps echoed softly as he searched, eyes scanning for the familiar figure of Domino. After some time, he found the door marked as hers.
He stopped, lifted a hand, and knocked lightly.
Minutes passed. Two. Then five. The door opened at last.
Domino stood framed in the doorway, her presence sharp as ever. Her tone carried a mix of arrogance and seduction as she asked, "Why are you here?"
Shin met her gaze calmly. "I conquered my Pokémon. It obeys me."
Her brow arched in faint amusement. So soon? she thought. Most recruits needed days, sometimes weeks, before their first Pokémon bent to their will. Either this boy was lying—or he had some guts.
"Show me."
Without hesitation, Shin tossed the Pokéball. A beam of red light split the air.
Zubat emerged, wings flapping in restless rhythm. It circled once, scanning its surroundings, then fixed its senses on Shin. With a sharp turn, it flew back and settled neatly on his shoulder, clinging close to its trainer.
Domino's eyes lingered. The motion was subtle but telling—Zubat hadn't fled, hadn't resisted. It perched as though choosing its place.
Interesting.
Her lips curved slightly, but her thoughts were colder than her smile. He forced it… I can see it in the tension in Zubat's wings. Fear, not loyalty. But fear is useful. Fear is controllable. For a recruit to manage this already, he's promising.
With a few taps on her device, the transaction was completed.
"1,500 Rocket Points," she said. "Earned."
Shin gave a short nod, his expression unreadable.
Domino studied him a moment longer. His calmness was deliberate, calculated—like someone hiding fire beneath still water. He doesn't boast. He doesn't flinch. He doesn't try to please me like the others. That makes him dangerous.
She leaned on the doorframe, letting her smile sharpen. "Don't disappoint me, Shin. Team Rocket eats the weak alive."
The door closed with a soft click, leaving Shin in the corridor, the weight of her words and her judgment pressing against his back.
After the exchange with Domino, Shin returned quietly to his own quarters. The weight of the day pressed down on him, but instead of his bed, his first action was to prepare a small rest space for Zubat—an improvised enclosure near his own bed. Only once it was arranged did he allow himself to lie down.
He closed his eyes, but sleep did not come. Memories rose instead, one after another, relentless.
Professor Oak's cold gaze. The sharp words that had bound him into this role. The moment he agreed to become Oak's spy inside Team Rocket. The disorienting plunge into this world. The pain of awakening in a frail body. The vicious struggle to survive each step that followed.
Shin exhaled slowly. The images did not fade; they looped, relentless, until he forced his mind to shift. Away from Oak. Away from himself. Toward the only being now tethered to him in this place—Zubat.
Though trust was fragile, though fear lingered in those trembling wings, Shin knew: this was his partner. His responsibility.
He began to plan.
Zubat was a Poison and Flying type. That duality defined its strength. Poison for crippling. Flight for speed and infiltration. A natural predator of shadows—elusive, untouchable. With the ability Infiltrator, even barriers would not save opponents from its strikes.
The thought hardened into resolve. The path forward was clear.
Tomorrow, he would visit the market. There, he would gather ingredients and materials for Pokéblocks and food tailored for Zubat—nourishment to sharpen toxicity and enhance aerial stamina. Afterward, the training grounds would be their next arena. Flight drills. Speed endurance. Weighted resistance. Combat maneuvering.
Shin opened his eyes again, staring into the dim ceiling above. His body ached, but his mind steadied. Zubat would grow. He would grow.
Together, they would carve their survival.