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Lewis had always feared Pelican Town would fade after the farm's collapse.
When festivals drew no tourists…
When Pelican-born youth chased dreams in Zuzu City…
When ivy swallowed the Community Center whole…
He set down his umbrella, stepped beside Maru, and steadied the ladder for her.
"Mayor Lewis?"
Maru hadn't noticed him arrive—the rain and Ron's hammering drowned out all sound.
She jumped at the sudden hands on the ladder.
"Go on, child," Lewis smiled, gazing up at Ron on the roof.
"He's only been here a few days… yet everything's already changing."
Like a rusted gear newly oiled—slow at first, but soon it would turn smoothly again.
Soon, Ron finished patching the roof and climbed down.
Only then did he spot Lewis silently waiting—and Maru hammering inside.
Without a word, Lewis patted Ron's shoulder, pressed two raffle tickets into his hand, and walked away.
"…"
Ron stared at the tickets, bewildered, and stepped inside.
He split them—one for Maru.
"What's this?" Maru nailed a plank, then looked up. "Ah, no—I won't take it. Lewis gave it to you. Those things are useless to anyone else."
The raffle machine's prizes were likely leftovers from the old farm—items too valuable to discard but unwanted without a working farm.
Only Ron would find them useful.
And why not give both tickets to him?
Maru could only cynically guess: It's a carrot to keep him working hard and helping others.
But that thought stayed unspoken.
After finishing repairs and sweeping the dust, Maru led Ron to the carpenter's shop.
Closest building—and she'd heard his farm lacked a kitchen.
Both soaked, they needed hot drinks and dry clothes. His shack offered neither.
Maru went to return the ladder, so Ron entered first.
"You're back, dear! Did you go alone—oh, Ron." Robin blinked, then laughed sheepishly. "So Maru won. Fixed the roof in this rain? You must be exhausted."
She handed him a warm, toasted towel from the hearth.
(Prepared for Maru—knowing her daughter's stubbornness, Robin hadn't fetched her.)
Hot cocoa simmered on the stove; the hearth glowed; towels waited warmed.
"I made extra," Robin said, handing another towel to Maru as she entered.
Maru's face was ice-cold from rain. She buried it in the towel with a blissful sigh.
"The kitchen has hot cocoa," Robin said. "Dry your hair, change clothes—better take a shower too. Both of you."
Robin's blended family had four members—two kids of different genders—so two bathrooms.
She pointed to one. "Use that. I'll get clothes."
She returned with a set of her husband Demetrius' clothes for Ron.
Later, as both sat by the hearth drying their hair, Robin brought two mugs of cocoa.
"Drink up," she said, placing them nearby.
Maru sipped hers, leaning closer to the fire.
Steam curled from her hair like smoke.
Ron drank quietly.
The warmth spread through his chest, thawing something deep inside.
"I made plenty," Robin said, watching them huddle like mushrooms by the fire. "Take some back for your Pokémon."
"I'll go too!" Maru said.
"No, Maru," Robin replied. "No dry towels left. Only one big umbrella—for Ron."
A freshly warmed body drenched again would surely catch cold. Robin produced their largest umbrella.
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Meanwhile, back at the farm…
The Pokémon knew Ron was repairing the Community Center.
They crowded the windows, waiting.
"Ratta~"
Such heavy rain… hope he's safe.
Rattata pressed against the glass, anxious.
Forbidden to leave, they couldn't search for him.
Though spring, the rain chilled the air. Ditto and Fletchling stayed indoors, quietly warming by the hearth—still shy around Ron.
Gengar lurked in shadows, too awkward to greet him at the door.
"Gengar~"
Did something happen?
SPLASH! Froakie blasted it with a Water Gun.
Gengar vanished into the darkness.
Just as they debated searching for Ron, a giant, mushroom-shaped yellow umbrella appeared at the door.
Under it stood Ron, cradling a large black pot.
"Froakie!"
"Ratta!"
The door creaked open—and they swarmed him.
"Wait! Stop! It's spilling!" Ron cried, staggering under their weight.
Adorned like living ornaments, he trudged to the cabin.
At the door, he dropped the umbrella and set down the pot.
It landed safely.
One by one, he plucked them off like ripe fruit—too fond to scold.
Sighing, he gathered every container in the house, lined them on the table, and poured the still-warm cocoa.
Rattata mobbed the cups; Froakie sipped delicately in the corner.
Ron sat on the bed, surrounded by joyful chatter.
"Froakie~"
"Ratta!!"
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