The sky was sinking into night, painted in shades of purple and fading orange, the kind of colors that made you want to just sit and stare until they disappeared. I sat on the back steps, knees tucked up, chin resting on them, trying not to look at the clock through the kitchen window again. Aunt Hailey had left a message that morning: Be back for dinner, don't wait up.
Dinner was ready hours ago. Caesar lay at my side, stretched out with his chest rising and falling in a heavy rhythm, his scales catching the porch light in uneven glints. The little scratches on him stood out sharper than I wanted them to. I'd done my best with a potion and berries, but you couldn't erase everything. A trainer saw scars even when no one else did.
I exhaled slowly. "She's gonna notice."
Caesar cracked one eye open and gave me a low rumble, like he didn't care. Easy for him to say.
Out in the yard, Pidgey balanced on a branch of the maple tree, feathers puffed up against the cooling air. She hadn't gone far since the battle, like she was… testing me. Watching to see if I'd still be standing tomorrow.
The sound of footsteps on gravel snapped me upright. I turned to see her. Aunt Hailey, cardigan sleeves rolled halfway up, grocery bag hooked at her side, walking up the path like a storm brewing. And beside her, Trunks, her Hypno. The pendulum in his hand swayed back and forth, catching the porch light with a faint metallic glint. His eyes swept the yard, then landed on me, unreadable as ever.
My stomach knotted.
"Hey, Aunt Hailey," I said quickly, standing and brushing my palms against my jeans.
She stopped at the bottom of the steps. One glance at Caesar and her face sharpened instantly. Her eyes flicked to the empty potion bottle on the railing, then back to me.
"…Arata."
That tone. The kind that wasn't raised, but cut sharper than a shout.
I swallowed. "We… uh. We had a battle."
Her brows pulled together, disbelief flickering across her face. "You what?"
"It wasn't against some random," I rushed. "It was a trainer. Kind of. He had a Mankey, and—"
She cut me off with a snap. "No trainer is supposed to throw challenges at kids without a license. And you don't accept them, Arata. Not with him." She pointed sharply at Caesar.
Caesar bristled, stepping closer with his head lifted in stubborn pride. He wanted to argue back. I understood.
I knelt and steadied him with a hand, meeting her eyes. "It wasn't like that. We needed it. Caesar's strong, but he's not fast enough yet. He fought a Mankey head-on and " I hesitated, forcing the word out, " we lost. But it was close. We learned more in that fight than we would've from a week of practice swings."
Her eyes narrowed, but something softened in the silence that followed. She looked at me the way she sometimes did when she caught me sneaking training drills in the yard half furious, half… proud. She didn't say it, but I could see it.
"You lost," she said again, her voice quieter now.
"Yeah," I admitted. "But Caesar didn't back down. And I didn't, either."
The wind moved through the maple tree, carrying a faint rustle of feathers. Pidgey swooped down without warning, wings brushing against my cheek as she landed neatly on my shoulder. She chirped proudly, as if she had been waiting for the dramatic moment.
I almost smiled. Caesar gave a satisfied grunt.
Aunt Hailey's expression, though… her eyes flicked from Caesar to Pidgey perched like a crown on my shoulder. Her mouth flattened into a perfect deadpan.
"…Because one troublemaker wasn't enough," she muttered.
I opened my mouth to explain, but she was already gathering her groceries again. "Inside. Now."
Trunks smirked faintly at me as he followed her up the steps, pendulum swinging slow and smug.
I rubbed a hand over my face and let out a long sigh. "Great. Just great."
Caesar snorted, almost laughing at my misery. Pidgey puffed her chest out like she'd already claimed her spot on the team.
I trailed after them into the house, bracing myself for the dinner talk I knew was coming.
The kitchen smelled like roasted vegetables and garlic butter, warm enough to almost take the edge off the tension. Almost.
Aunt Hailey set the grocery bag on the counter with a thump and started pulling things out in practiced motions. I hovered awkwardly, Caesar at my heel, while Pidgey hopped onto the back of a chair as though she owned it. Trunks, of course, drifted silently to his corner, pendulum swinging in lazy arcs, watching me with those half-lidded eyes.
"Plates," Aunt Hailey said without looking at me.
I jumped a little. "Uh, yeah, got it."
I went to the cupboard, pulling out ceramic plates one by one, setting them along the wooden table. The table was old, scarred with knife nicks and faint burn marks, signs of years of family meals.
As I finished lining up the cutlery, I noticed Hailey at the sliding back door. She carried a large steel bowl under one arm.
"I'll be right back. Watch the stove," she said.
I nodded, and she stepped outside.
Through the glass, I watched her move into the backyard. The grass was still damp from yesterday's rain, but she walked across it like she belonged there. She whistled softly, sharp and low, and then unclipped the Poké Balls from her belt one by one.
First came Arcanine Stripe
He erupted into the night with a low, thunderous bark, flame-colored fur blazing in the porch light. His mane was thick, streaked with ash-gray along the edges, giving him a storm-touched look. He shook himself out, sending sparks from his fur into the cool air, then padded forward with the heavy grace of a predator pretending to be tame. His golden eyes softened only when they landed on her.
Then, with a flash, came Nidorino.
Her Nidorino Spike was squat and powerful, spines jutting sharp from her back like a living weapon. Her hide was a deep violet, darker than most, and the scar along her left tusk told me she'd seen fights that weren't for show. She snorted, pawing at the grass, but when Hailey set the bowl down, her aggression melted into hunger.
Beautifly Glimmer fluttered out next, delicate wings shimmering in layered red, yellow, and black patterns. She moved like a drifting lantern, spiraling once over Hailey's shoulder before settling near the flowerbed. Her long proboscis curled as she dipped toward the nectar feeder Hailey kept set up just for her.
And finally, Trunks joined them already outside now, pendulum catching moonlight as he stood apart from the others. His presence was unsettling, calm in a way that felt sharp. But he was hers, utterly.
Hailey bent to pour the food into separate dishes, measured portions, and organized as if this too were ritual. Arcanine nosed at his share with a satisfied rumble, Nidorino dug in with snorts, and Beautifly flitted from her feeder to nibble at a dish of fruit slices. Trunks just stood there, gaze distant, before finally accepting a portion of berries.
There was something grounding about the way she handled them. Like this wasn't duty, but family.
When she came back inside, her sleeves were dusted with stray fur and her hair smelled faintly of grass. She shut the door with a click and looked over the table. "Good. Sit."
Caesar settled at my feet, curling his tail around his legs. Pidgey dropped from the chair back to perch on the table edge, ignoring my attempt to shoo her off.
We ate quietly at first. The clink of forks against plates, the low hum of the stove cooling, and the muffled sounds of Pokémon in the yard filled the silence.
Finally, Hailey set her fork down. "So," she said, eyes fixed on me, "tell me what you actually want to do."
The question landed heavier than I expected.
I swallowed. "…I want to be strong."
Her brow arched.
"I mean it," I said, leaning forward a little. "I want to be a trainer. I want Caesar and me to grow past this backyard, past practice matches and scraps with wild Pokémon. I don't want to just sit here while everyone else gets stronger. I don't want to be weak."
Caesar grunted in agreement, lifting his head proudly.
But Hailey didn't look impressed. Her voice stayed calm, clipped. "And what does strong mean to you? Beating children at the Vermillion gym? Getting a badge or two?"
I frowned. "No. Strong enough that people notice. That we can stand in a fight that matters. Strong enough not to be crushed when it counts."
Her eyes softened slightly, but only slightly. "Arata. Do you even understand what you're asking? Trainers with more than four badges aren't just hobbyists. The League can and will treat them as assets. Do you know what that means?"
I blinked. "Like… recruits?"
"Like soldiers," she corrected flatly. "In times of crisis, the League drafts them. Four-badge trainers and above are called up to defend the Indigo Plateau, the cities, and whatever the region needs them. And that's not glamorous work, Arata. That's standing on walls while rampaging Rhydon tear through the streets. That's putting your Pokémon against threats that kill."
The room seemed smaller suddenly, the weight of her words pressing in.
I clenched my fork. "I'm not stupid. I know the risks. But isn't that what strength is for? To actually matter, to protect something?"
Her mouth curved, not into a smile, but something sadder. "You sound like your father."
The silence stretched between us. My chest ached, but I held her gaze.
"…Then maybe I'm not so wrong," I said quietly.
She exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. "Even if I wanted to indulge you, you don't have the money. Travel, supplies, Poké Balls, potions it adds up. You think battles are free? Every potion you used today, every trip to the center it all costs. And if Caesar gets badly hurt?" She tapped her fork on the table. "A single emergency treatment can wipe out a year's savings if you're not properly sponsored."
I grimaced. She wasn't wrong.
"…I've been thinking about that," I said after a moment. "I want to try applying for a Pokédex through Professor Oak's lab."
That earned me a genuine blink. "Oak?"
"Not for a starter," I added quickly. "I know that's impossible. Starters are locked up tighter than anything. But Oak sponsors a few trainers every year with field Pokédexes trainers who show promise, it comes with other benefits too. If I can write something, maybe an article… something useful enough, I might have a chance."
Her expression stayed unreadable, but she didn't cut me off.
I hesitated, then pushed forward. "If that doesn't work… I already have another plan. Morita's farm. They're always looking for extra hands. If I save up over the next year, I can cover travel costs myself. And I won't be stupid about it. I'll train Caesar here, where it's safe, until we're ready."
Her eyes searched mine, as though she could peel the truth out of me. "And Pidgey?"
Pidgey chirped indignantly, as if she knew she was being talked about. She fluttered down from the chair and landed neatly by my plate, pecking at a stray crumb.
I glanced at Caesar, who gave a long-suffering grunt but didn't push her away. My lips tugged into a reluctant smile. "…She's already made up her mind. Might as well make it official."
Hailey's sigh was long, but not sharp this time. She reached across the table, resting her hand lightly on mine. Her fingers were warm, calloused. "You're stubborn. Always have been. Fine. You'll keep Pidgey. And I'll oversee your training when I can. But Arata…"
Her voice firmed again. "Promise me you'll do this smart. Promise me you won't throw yourself headfirst into danger just to prove a point."
I swallowed, then nodded. "I promise."
She leaned back, finally picking up her fork again. The tension in the room thinned, replaced by something quieter, almost comfortable.
Out in the yard, Arcanine barked at the night, and Nidorino snorted. Beautifly's wings glimmered faintly against the kitchen window. Caesar pressed against my leg, warm and steady. And Pidgey, of course, stole another crumb off my plate before settling smugly on my shoulder.
For the first time all day, I let myself breathe easier.