Axew was still there when I came back the next morning.
That alone felt strange, even though I knew it shouldn't. The Pokémon Center was full of rooms like this temporary places, never meant to hold anything for long. Still, seeing the same small shape curled on the bed made something settle in my chest.
It looked a little better.
Not healed. Not strong. But its breathing wasn't as shallow anymore, and the dullness in its scales had faded just enough to notice. When it shifted, it didn't wince as hard as before.
My father stopped beside me, arms crossed loosely as he studied it.
"Poison's still working through its system," he said. "But it's responding."
"That's good," I replied.
He nodded, then stepped closer.
That was when Axew noticed him.
Its head snapped up, eyes wide. A low, sharp sound rattled in its throat as it scrambled backward, claws scraping against the sheets. The movement was weak, but the intent wasn't.
"Easy," my father said automatically, hands lifting in a familiar, calming gesture.
Axew didn't calm.
It hissed, baring small teeth, body tensing despite the obvious pain. When my father reached forward, slow and careful, Axew lashed out.
Not hard enough to do real damage but enough.
Claws caught his sleeve. Teeth snapped close to his wrist.
My father pulled back immediately, more surprised than hurt.
"Alright," he muttered. "Message received."
He straightened, rubbing his arm once before glancing down at me. Not annoyed. Not worried. Just thoughtful.
"It's not ready," he said.
Axew was still watching him, breathing quick, eyes locked on every movement.
I stepped forward without thinking.
My father noticed. "Arin"
"I know," I said. "I won't rush."
Axew saw me too.
It tensed again, but differently this time. Less sharp. Less desperate.
I stopped a short distance away and crouched down so I wasn't looming over it. My hands stayed visible, resting on my knees.
"Hey," I said quietly. "It's just me."
I didn't reach out.
I waited.
Axew's breathing slowed, just a little. Its claws loosened their grip on the sheets. It didn't retreat further, even when I shifted closer by a single step.
My father watched from behind me, silent.
"Can I?" I asked him.
He hesitated for half a second then nodded.
I moved carefully, sliding one hand beneath Axew the same way I had in the forest, supporting its weight instead of lifting it outright. My other hand steadied its side, gentle, controlled.
Axew stiffened.
Then… it didn't fight.
No snapping. No scratching. Just a soft, uncertain sound as it adjusted its weight against my arm. Its head lowered slightly, resting there as if the effort of holding itself up had finally become too much.
I felt it relax.
Not fully. Not safely.
But enough.
My father exhaled slowly behind me.
"Well," he said quietly. "That answers a few questions."
Axew shifted again, claws hooking lightly into my sleeve—not to hurt, just to stay. Its tail gave a small, awkward twitch, and for a moment, it almost looked… relieved.
I smiled before I could stop myself.
"See?" I murmured. "I've got you."
Axew looked up at me, eyes clearer now, and let out a faint, almost curious sound.
For the first time since I'd found it.
Axew was allowed to leave the next day.
Not because it was better at least, not fully but because it no longer needed constant monitoring. The poison was gone from its system, flushed out slowly and painfully, leaving something weaker behind instead of stronger.
Nurse Joy didn't sugarcoat it.
"He survived," she said, hands folded as she looked between my father and me. "Barely. His body burned through everything it had just to stay alive."
Axew sat on the bed beside me, smaller than it had looked in the forest somehow. Not physically just quieter. Its movements were careful now, measured, like every step had to be considered first.
"No training," Nurse Joy continued. "No battles. No pushing. Not for at least a week."
Axew's head snapped up at that, letting out a sharp, displeased little sound.
I almost laughed.
"I know," I said softly, crouching so we were eye level. "You don't like that."
Axew huffed, turning its head away in clear protest.
Nurse Joy smiled faintly. "He still thinks he can go," she said. "That's a good sign. But he's wrong."
She looked at me more seriously then.
"He didn't just get poisoned. His muscles broke down from fighting it. Even standing will tire him out. Whatever strength he had before it's not gone, but it's buried."
I nodded. I already understood.
Axew might have been strong for its age. Maybe even unusually so. But strength didn't matter when your body couldn't keep up. Right now, it wasn't about moves or instincts or willpower.
It was about rebuilding.
Slowly.
My father lifted Axew's carrier carefully, but before he could close it, Axew scrambled forward awkward, unbalanced and climbed straight into my arms instead.
It pressed its head against my chest and stayed there.
My father raised an eyebrow. "Guess that settles that."
I adjusted my grip, supporting Axew's weight the way I'd learned to, feeling how light it still was. Too light.
"You're coming home," I murmured. "But you're resting. That's not optional."
Axew made a low sound that might've been agreement or might've been resignation.
Either way, it didn't pull away.
As we left the Pokémon Center, Axew didn't look back.
Not at the room. Not at the nurses. Not even at the city beyond the doors.
It just stayed where it was, warm and real in my arms, breathing steadily for the first time since I'd found it.
Whatever it had been before strong, fast, dangerous That could wait. Right now, it was alive. And that was enough.