Alex's daily life continued without much change—at least, nothing that bothered him anymore. The only difference was the invisible Pokémon that spent most of its time playing with his hair whenever it felt bored, which unfortunately attracted far more attention than he liked. Strands of his hair would suddenly rise, sway, or twist on their own while he walked through town, earning him curious stares from adults and barely contained laughter from children.
At school, the mystery didn't last long.
"Look! It's moving again!"
"Hey, Alex, your hair's dancing!"
By the end of the week, the nickname stuck.
"Dancing Hair."
Alex buried his face in his hands the first time he heard it, while Victini—completely unapologetic—tugged proudly at his bangs from above. Even Miss Ave had to pause during lessons when his hair slowly floated upward as if greeting the class.
It had been two months since his aunt Cynthia started living with them, and by now, her presence felt strangely normal. Morning training sessions, quiet lectures about physical balance, and her occasional teasing had blended into Alex's routine. Victini, meanwhile, remained glued to him, invisible to everyone else and completely unwilling to leave his head for more than a few minutes.
Over the last month, however, Victini had developed a strange obsession.
It hovered constantly around a small device Alex kept hidden in his room, watching intently whenever he used it. His mother noticed first.
"What's that?" she asked one afternoon, peeking over his shoulder.
Before Alex could answer, the device simply vanished.
His mother blinked. "…Was it just there?"
Victini hummed smugly.
Cynthia tried next, crouching down and squinting suspiciously. "You know," she said casually, "secrets don't usually make children this relaxed."
"It promised," Alex replied, folding his arms. "It won't show it to anyone."
His father adjusted his glasses. "At least tell me what it does."
Alex grinned slightly. "It's just a game I made."
"That's it?" his father asked.
"That's all you need to know."
Even Cynthia resorted to bribery, sliding a bowl of premium ice cream across the table with a raised eyebrow. "One look. That's all I'm asking."
Alex accepted the ice cream without hesitation and took a spoonful. "Thanks."
She stared at him. "…You're not even tempted?"
"Nope."
Victini tugged his hair approvingly.
Cynthia sighed. "I raised a monster."
The stalemate ended a few days later.
Cynthia placed an envelope on the table during breakfast, her expression far too casual for Alex's liking.
"What's that?" he asked cautiously.
"Open it."
The moment he saw the contents, his eyes widened.
"A ticket… to Professor Oak's Pokémon Laboratory?" His voice cracked slightly. "And the Kanto Pokémon Exhibition Camp?"
Cynthia smirked. "Only a handful of families get invited. Researchers. Famous names. People hoping their kids get noticed."
Alex practically vibrated in his seat. "I get to meet Professor Oak? Mom's teacher? The Oak?"
"Maybe," Cynthia replied lightly. "If you agree to one small condition."
Alex slumped. "…You want the device."
She nodded.
After a long, dramatic sigh, Alex stood up and disappeared into his room. When he returned, he placed a sleek black console on the table, its surface smooth and polished, with ten neatly arranged buttons.
"I made it," he said simply.
Using old Silph Co. and Lysandre Labs equipment, plus coding knowledge from memories he barely understood himself, Alex had spent weeks assembling and programming it. The device featured holographic projection, encrypted long-distance communication, sonic radar, and ten fully playable games recreated from memory.
His parents stared in silence.
"…He made this while interrupting our work?" his father muttered.
Cynthia picked it up, pressed a button—and didn't put it down.
Minutes later, she was sitting on the couch, eyes locked on the screen.
"Why is this game so addictive?" she muttered. "Wait—no, that was a mistake—"
Alex smiled smugly.
The deal was sealed.
Two days later, they boarded a plane from Kalos, stopping briefly in Sinnoh before continuing to Kanto. The trip took nearly two days, and by the time Cynthia rented a forest jeep and drove toward the camp, Alex was half-asleep in his seat, Victini gently patting his head.
When they arrived, the camp was already lively.
Children between five and eight years old filled the area, voices echoing through the forest as they gathered in groups. Alex counted quietly.
Forty kids.
Cynthia parked the jeep and stretched. "Alright, Dancing Hair," she said teasingly. "Welcome to Kanto."
Alex groaned. "Don't call me that."
Victini tugged his hair.
Cynthia laughed.