Pokémon: An Unexpected Odyssey

[Lillie Jones]

thanks for the chapter
The Journey continues
Cheers!

 

[Petrox]

Nice to mention the stick up Misty's entitled ass. She deserves a wake up call before its too late.

 

[kinja427]

Why hasn't this chapter gone up on RR yet?
Not complaining, I just find it strange.

 

[Adamos_Amet]

Regret.

Misty had felt it before—more times than she liked to admit—but she had never been one to regret what she said.

Why should she?

Her mother never taught her to back down, never raised her to be the kind of person who swallowed her words. If you had something to say, you said it. That was how Misty lived. That was how she fought.

And yet…

After her argument with Austin that morning—after hours of waiting for him to come back and finding nothing but silence in return—regret was all she felt.

Ash Ketchum.

No—she refused to call him Ash. He had always been Austin to her, the person who had been there for her, the one who had gone out of his way to help her and never asked for anything in return.

And yet, when he had finally needed something from her—just a little patience, a little understanding—she had demanded answers like he was beneath her. Like she had the right to own his truth.

Now, with every passing hour that he didn't come back, the silence grew louder. She had spent so much of her journey alone. Even when she had her sisters, even when she had Pokémon, even when she had a dream to chase, she had always felt like she was on her own. But now, when she was closer than ever to achieving that dream, she had thrown away the one friendship that made it possible.

And for what?

Because she had let her pride get in the way? Because she had let her temper run her mouth? Misty let out a heavy sigh, staring at the half-empty pools of the Cerulean Gym.

"Hey."

A voice broke through her thoughts, and Misty turned to see Meowtholomew making his way toward her, balancing a tray of sandwiches in his tiny paws.

A trench coat. A fedora. Whiskers twitching with every step.

The guy was a complete weirdo. The first time she saw him, she had nearly burst out laughing. A tiny man with cat-like whiskers, dressed like some shady street informant, talking with an accent straight out of a detective movie? Come on.

But apparently, according to him, he had a rare genetic condition from being bitten by a radioactive Meowth.

Misty hadn't believed a word of it. But Austin hadn't made a big fuss about it, so she didn't say anything either.

"You should eat somethin'," Meowth said, hopping up onto the bench beside her and setting the tray down.

"I'm not hungry."

Meowth shrugged, not pushing it. "Alright, but Boss Daisy told me ta tell ya—no tournament today. She wants ya ta rest. Eat somethin'. Get ya head straight."

Misty sighed. "Yeah… that's probably for the best."

She wasn't in any state to battle right now. Not with him still gone. Still, just to stop Meowth from nagging, she picked up one of the sandwiches and took a small bite. Then she pushed the rest toward him. "You and your friends can have the rest."

Meowth blinked. "Oh—uh, thanks!" His whiskers twitched in surprise, but he reached for a sandwich anyway.

Then he stopped.

His sharp little eyes narrowed.

"Somethin's buggin' ya."

Misty tensed slightly. "It's nothing."

Meowth snorted. "Kid, when people say it's nothin', it's usually somethin'."

Misty hesitated, then exhaled, gripping the bench beneath her. "...Have you ever felt bad about something you said?"

Meowth tilted his head, thinking.

Then he grinned, sharp and knowing. "Course I have. That's the blessin' of talkin', ain't it?"

Misty frowned. "Blessing?"

"Yeah," Meowth said, gesturing with a sandwich like he was giving some great speech. "Ta be able ta say somethin'—ta speak, ta be understood—ta be heard? That's a blessin'."

He leaned back slightly, flicking the brim of his fedora.

"When I was just a scrawny little runt, I taught myself how ta walk like a human, how ta talk like a human. And ya know what happened?"

Misty stayed quiet.

Meowth's grin didn't fade.

"They called me a freak."

Misty's stomach twisted.

"But," Meowth continued, waving a paw, "through speakin', I found a place. Through speakin', I found people who listened. And that's all that really matters."

He glanced at her, eyes sharper now. "Things only happen when ya say somethin'. Good or bad, it don't matter. The world don't move unless ya speak up. And if ya don't like what ya said?" He smirked. "Well, lucky for you—ya still got your tongue, don'tcha?"

Misty's breath hitched slightly. She didn't answer at first, just stared down at her hands.

"...Thanks."

Meowth shrugged like it was nothing. "No problem."

He grabbed the tray of sandwiches and hopped off the bench.

"I'll be takin' these back ta Jessie and James. You, uh…" He tilted his head. "Ya figure out what ya gotta do yet?"

Misty clenched her fists.

Yeah, she did.

Meowth smirked, already turning away. "Good."

---

Austin sat in front of the Pokémon Center's communication room, watching as the screen flickered before settling on Nurse Joy's familiar face.

"Nice to see you finally called," Joy said, arms crossed. "Your Rattata and Spearow were getting restless."

Austin winced. "Yeah… sorry about that. Things got a little busy on my end. Figured it was easier for them to stay with you while they recovered—at least long enough that they wouldn't draw suspicion."

"Of course, the mysterious hero has to hide his identity," Nurse Joy teased, a knowing smirk on her lips. Then her expression shifted, more serious. "But I'll have you know that Spearow was extremely aggressive. We had to keep him separated from the other patients. He even injured some of the Chansey nurses."

Austin winced again, this time deeper. "Damn. I—I'm really sorry about that. I'll make it up to them. I'll give Spearow a… stern talking to."

"Mmm-hmm. You do that." Nurse Joy didn't sound convinced. Then her gaze softened. "Rattata, on the other hand, was an absolute sweetheart. A joy to have around."

"That sounds like her. How are they both doing?"

"I'll send you their full medical reports—both a detailed and simplified version. Thought you'd appreciate not having to wade through the jargon."

Austin exhaled in relief. "You have no idea how much I appreciate that."

"Rattata has made a strong recovery," Joy continued. "No complications. The only thing left is some fur regrowth, but that's normal. I'd recommend a few more days of rest before she undergoes any serious battling."

Austin nodded. That was a weight off his chest. His little lady was back, just needed a little more time.

"Now… about Spearow."

"His case is a little more… interesting."

"Interesting how?"

Nurse Joy paused, choosing her words carefully. "Well, physically, Spearow's injuries weren't the main concern. He didn't have severe external wounds. The real problem was… mental."

"How so?"

"Think of it like this," Joy said, adjusting the camera slightly. "Imagine a professional athlete—someone at their peak—suddenly getting bedridden for months, maybe even a year. Their muscles weaken, their coordination deteriorates, and even though they remember how to move, their body just… doesn't respond the same way anymore. They have to relearn everything—from balance to endurance, from reflexes to precision. And that process? It's frustrating. Maddening, even."

Austin's hands tightened into fists.

"Spearow's going through something similar. His body is strong—stronger than it's ever been. But his instincts haven't caught up."

"...I am not following?"

"Spearow still thinks he's the same as before, but with his new size, weight, and muscle structure, his old instincts just don't work."

"Give me examples."

Nurse Joy nodded. "For starters, his flight mechanics are completely off. His wingspan hasn't adjusted to his new weight, so he keeps trying to take off the way a normal Spearow would—but his heavier frame means he can't generate the same lift. He goes up but loses stability, which makes him crash. Hard."

Austin grimaced.

"Due to this, he gets frustrated, and that frustration turns to anger. And that's why he attacked the Chansey nurses when they tried to calm him down. He doesn't understand what's happening to him. His self-perception and reality aren't lining up, and it's making him angry at everything."

Austin let that sink in.

"Right. Forget the stern talking to. I need to actually help him."

"That would be best," Joy agreed.

"Alright. I'll take care of it. And I'll make it up to the Chansey nurses. How about I send you some money? Buy them all something they like—as an apology from both Spearow and me."

"I think they'd appreciate that."

Then the pink-haired woman paused, grinning mischievously.

"Buuuut…"

"What?"

"What do I get?"

Austin blinked. "What?"

"C'mon, kid. I was the one who fixed your Pokémon. Don't I get somethin' too?"

Austin deadpanned. "You do realize you're asking a ten-year-old for money, right?"

Nurse Joy waved a dismissive hand. "Let's just say I'm preparing you for the real world. Being a successful trainer means you'll attract all kinds of gold-digging bugs. I'm just giving you practice."

"Uh-huh. And in this practice scenario, what kind of bug are you?"

Nurse Joy flipped her hair dramatically. "Obviously, the beautiful kind."

Austin snorted. "Right. Should've known."

Both of them laughed. After a moment, Joy leaned forward slightly. "Jokes aside, what have you been up to? You seem… different."

Austin blinked, caught off guard. He hadn't expected to be this comfortable talking to an adult. Most of the time, he felt like he was walking on eggshells, like he had to act a certain way to avoid suspicion. But Nurse Joy? She felt safe. Like he could actually talk to her.

Still, he hesitated. "...That's a long story."

"Summarized version, then."

Austin sweatdropped. "Figures."

He leaned back, gathering his thoughts.

"Alright… here goes."

---

By the time Austin finally returned to the Cerulean City Gym, the sky was painted in deep shades of blue, the streets bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. The long day had drained every ounce of energy he had—a meeting with Professor Oak about the Dragon Rage Magikarp, a conversation with Delia, and now this.

No rest for the wicked, huh?

He pushed open the door, stepping inside quietly, Pikachu curled up and fast asleep in his arms. The scent of something warm and inviting hit him instantly, mingling with the faint hum of the night. Across the room, Misty sat at the dinner table, staring down at a pot in front of her, her fingers tapping against the wooden surface.

The moment she saw him, her head snapped up.

"A…Austin." She stood up abruptly, like she had been waiting for hours.

Austin held up a hand, motioning for silence. "Shh."

Misty blinked in confusion until she noticed the tiny yellow lump snoozing in Austin's arms, his ears twitching slightly.

"I should take him to bed first," Austin murmured.

"And then… can we talk?"

"Sure."

A few minutes later, Austin returned, his shoulders feeling lighter without Pikachu's weight. He took a seat across from Misty at the table, stretching out his sore arms.

"Pikachu's out like he worked a full-time construction job today."

Misty smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah."

A moment of awkward silence settled between them.

"…Did you eat anything yet?"

"Not really."

Misty nodded, reaching for the pot in front of her. "I made some pasta," she said, removing the lid.

The moment she did, a wave of rich, savory aroma filled the air. Steam curled from the pot, carrying the scent of perfectly cooked noodles tossed in a creamy, herb-infused sauce. Small bits of diced tomatoes and basil glistened under the warm light, blending together in a way that made Austin's stomach immediately remind him of how little he had eaten that day.

"I could eat."

He grabbed the ladle, scooping a portion onto his plate. The first bite was heaven. The pasta was soft but firm, coated in a velvety sauce that carried just the right balance of garlic, butter, and fresh herbs. Each bite melted against his tongue, the flavors lingering long after he swallowed.

"…Damn, Misty," he muttered, barely pausing before taking another bite. "This is really good."

A small, almost shy smile flickered across her lips. "Thanks."

"…And I'm sorry."

Austin paused mid-bite, glancing up.

"For what?" he asked, swallowing.

"For… this morning," Misty admitted. "I—" She exhaled, shaking her head. "That was wrong of me."

"Misty, anyone in your position would've asked questions. It's normal."

"But it wasn't just the questions," she said quickly. "It was how I said it. The way I demanded answers from you like I was—" She stopped herself, her throat clenching.

She exhaled, looking down.

"I'm not your boss," she whispered. "You don't owe me anything. And I was wrong to act like I did."

Austin stared at her for a moment before sighing. "…Oh yeah, don't worry about that. I kinda forgot already."

Misty jerked her head up. "You—what?"

"I had a lot of stuff to do today. Guess it took me longer than I realized." He picked up his fork again. "How'd the tournament go today?"

"…We, uh. We canceled it."

"…Why?"

"We were too… worried about you."

The words settled heavily between them.

"I'm sorry for worrying you."

Misty didn't respond right away, just nodded, staring down at the table.

For a while, they just sat there, eating in comfortable silence. Then, Misty cleared her throat. "So… what were you doing today?"

"Mostly just talking to Professor Oak about the Dragon Rage Magikarp project. He and his team will be coming by tomorrow afternoon to do some science stuff."

Misty raised an eyebrow. "Science stuff?"

Austin gave her a flat look. "Do I look like a scientist?"

Misty giggled. "Fair enough. The professor's team won't get in the way of the tournament, right?"

Austin shook his head. "Nope. Oak assured me they'll stay out of the way."

"…Then why do you look so tense?"

"Because there's… someone tagging along with them."

Misty tilted her head. "Who?"

Austin hesitated, then exhaled.

"…Delia Ketchum. My mom."

"Wait, is she also a scientist?"

Austin snorted. "No. She runs a restaurant. But she wanted to spend the weekend with me, so I was wondering if—" He hesitated. "—if there's no issue, can she stay here with us?"

"Of course she can stay! Daisy and the others will love having her here!"

Austin raised an eyebrow. "That was quick."

Misty fumbled slightly, suddenly flustered. "I—I mean, it's only polite! Besides, I don't mind cooking for the weekend."

"Well," he said casually, "you do make a mean pasta."

Misty's entire face turned red. She looked down, pressing her hands against her cheeks, letting out a tiny, muffled squeal.

Austin's brain short-circuited.

Wait. Wait. Is Misty—?

He took another bite, mentally processing.

…Don't tell me she's trying to impress my mom.

Another bite.

…Don't tell me she's developed a crush on me.

Another bite.

…Fuck. Arceus, please, I'm begging you—don't throw anything worse at me.

His plate suddenly cracked. Austin's entire soul left his body.

Great. I just jinxed it. He sighed, rubbing his temples. Austin had no idea just how much insanity was waiting for him next.

---

The Next Day

The Cerulean Gym was bustling with activity.

A large white research truck pulled up to the front of the gym, its tires rolling smoothly over the pavement before coming to a steady stop. The vehicle was imposing, larger than a standard transport truck, with the Kanto Research Institute's emblem painted on the sides—a stylized Poké Ball encircled by an atom-like design. The truck's rear doors swung open, and out came a team of lab-coated researchers, unloading crates of equipment, scanning devices, and storage units. Some carried heavy-duty coolers—probably filled with specimens or scientific instruments—while others adjusted the wheeled carts stacked with data tablets and computers.

Austin and the Cerulean Sisters stood outside, watching the organized chaos unfold.

"Well, well, well! What do we have here?"

A familiar, cocky voice rang out from the back of the truck, and before anyone could react, a figure leapt down from the vehicle.

Gary Oak.

Dressed in his signature purple long-sleeved shirt and dark jeans, his spiky brown hair catching the sunlight, Gary landed smoothly before straightening with a smug grin.

"So I hear from the old man that you discovered something big." His grin widened. "Just so you know, I'm gonna make an even bigger discovery. Mark my words."

Austin smirked, a chuckle slipping past his lips.

"Hey, I'm serious!"

Austin shook his head, still smiling. "No, I believe you." He offered his hand. "Good to see you, man. Hope you've been doing alright since everything that happened on Mt. Moon."

Gary paused briefly, glancing at Austin's outstretched hand before smirking again. He shook it, his grip firm. "You think something as small as that is gonna stop The Great Gary Oak?"

Austin chuckled. Yeah, that sounded like Gary.

"I'm glad Gary is still his confident self."

A warm, familiar female voice rang out, turning everyone's attention toward the truck's main side door, which had just opened. Austin already knew who it was before she even stepped out.

Delia Ketchum.

She emerged from the vehicle with the same gentle elegance she always carried, dressed in a peach-colored blouse and white capris. Her auburn hair was neatly tied back, and her eyes were bright with warmth. Gary barely had time to react before his grandfather stepped down right behind her, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Maybe he needs a little less confidence."

Gary rolled his eyes. "Pfft. Says the guy who spent all morning geeking out over some research notes."

Austin didn't pay much attention to their usual banter, his focus locked on Delia.

His mother's eyes found him immediately, her lips curving into a soft smile. Without hesitation, she held out her arms.

Austin didn't even think.

He stepped forward and hugged her.

Delia leaned back slightly, studying him with a sharp motherly gaze.

"Have you been wearing clean underwear?"

Austin groaned as the Cerulean Sisters burst into laughter.

"Ohhh, can't the genius prodigy keep his underwear clean? Huh, Austin?"

Austin's face burned. "Oh, shut up."

Delia blinked, turning to Professor Oak. "Austin?"

The professor chuckled. "That's the name our young Ash here is using for his research paper—keeps the reporters and sponsors from bothering his Pokémon journey."

Delia's expression cleared in understanding. "Oh! Well, that makes sense."

Gary, however, snorted. "I think it's lame."

Austin's eye twitched.

Gary grinned. "Seriously, couldn't come up with something cooler? Austin? What, were Ace and Blaze already taken?"

Before Austin could respond, a bright, crackling spark suddenly ignited beside him.

Gary barely had time to jump back as a yellow blur leapt forward.

"PIKACHU!"

A bolt of electricity shot from Pikachu's cheeks, narrowly missing Gary's foot as the rival trainer yelped, stumbling backward.

"HEY!" Gary snapped. "Keep your rat in check, Ashy-boy! Or should I say Austin?"

Austin smirked as Pikachu landed back on his shoulder, tail flicking smugly. "Maybe you should keep your mouth in check, Gar-Bear."

The two boys locked eyes, a familiar crackling tension forming between them—one that didn't need words to be understood. Lightning clashed between their gazes.

"Well, I'm not surprised." Delia's voice cut through the standoff.

"Not surprised about what?"

"Your father had a habit of using a nickname instead of his actual name."

Silence.

Austin's entire body froze.

Misty blinked. "Wait… what was it?"

"His nickname was Red Ketchum."

Austin kept his expression neutral. I figured as much. Blue is Gary's father. Red is Ash's father. But then… why is Green my age? His head hurt, but he shook off the thought for now.

"Well," he said, forcing himself to focus, "why don't we go inside before we start unpacking everything?"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea."

And just like that, the chaos was only beginning.

An Hour Later

Professor Oak's team worked efficiently, unloading advanced monitoring equipment and setting up analysis stations around the battle arena. The hum of machinery, the clatter of metal cases being unlatched, and the soft murmur of scientists discussing data points filled the air. Daisy, Violet, and Lily—though usually not ones for hard labor—had rolled up their sleeves and were actively helping the researchers.

"Careful with that one," Daisy warned, watching as a scientist positioned a large bio-sensor array near the battlefield. "If it falls, it's so not coming outta our budget."

"Ugh, this is so much work," Violet groaned, but she continued carrying a bundle of cables to one of the monitors.

"Hey, think of it this way," Lily chimed in. "We can totally say we helped with a scientific breakthrough. How many performers get to do that?"

Daisy smirked. "Yeah, plus, it makes the Gym look super professional."

---

Professor Oak was hunched over a clipboard, scribbling notes and calculations as he observed Magikarp resting in a large, transparent observation tank. The tank was equipped with multiple electrodes that monitored the Pokémon's aura output, muscle contractions, and metabolic activity. A bioscanner hummed softly, displaying fluctuating readings on a holographic screen nearby.

Professor Oak adjusted his glasses. "Fascinating… Its aura signature is far weaker than that of a naturally occurring Dragon-type user, yet it's still able to manifest Dragon Rage."

Misty stood beside him, arms crossed, watching intently. "How are you planning to monitor Magikarp during the tournament? Will it interfere with the battles?"

Oak glanced at her with a reassuring smile. "Not at all. The sensors we're using are non-invasive. We'll be tracking changes in its body temperature, heart rate, and energy output in real-time—all without affecting its movement." He tapped on his tablet. "My goal is to observe how Magikarp's biological functions change before and after battle."

"So, you're looking for what exactly?"

"The metabolic cost of Dragon Rage," Oak explained. "In theory, using a move like that should be impossibly draining for a Pokémon like Magikarp. But the fact that it can use it at all suggests something unusual in its aura distribution."

"Aura distribution?"

Oak nodded. "Every Pokémon has a natural aura, though for most species, it's passive rather than active. Dragon-types, for instance, have innate reservoirs of aura that fuel their Dragon-type attacks." He gestured toward Magikarp. "But this Magikarp? It shouldn't have enough aura density to sustain Dragon Rage, and yet… here we are. So how many times can it use Dragon Rage before it tires out?"

"From what I've seen?" Misty thought for a moment. "Five times. After that, it's completely drained."

Professor Oak tapped his chin. "Interesting. That's half the normal limit for a trained Dragon-type."

"Wait, really? Dragon Rage is usually used ten times?"

Oak nodded. "A healthy Gyarados or Charizard can use it ten times before hitting their natural energy threshold. If Magikarp's limit is five, it suggests that its aura pool is significantly smaller. The question is—"

Oak's eyes gleamed with curiosity.

"—is that limit due to Magikarp's natural biology, or is it because its body isn't designed to handle Dragon energy?"

Misty's eyes widened slightly. "Wait… are you saying Magikarp might be damaging itself every time it uses Dragon Rage?"

Oak tapped a few notes on his clipboard. "We won't know until we compare its pre-battle and post-battle metabolic readings. That's why today's tournament is so important."

Misty swallowed. She had never thought about it like that. Was Magikarp hurting itself just to use that attack? Her grip on her arms tightened. "Then I'll make sure it doesn't overdo it today."

Oak smiled approvingly. "That's exactly the kind of awareness a good trainer needs."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the gym, Austin was standing next to his makeshift merchandise booth, watching as his mother examined one of the T-shirts on display. Delia hummed, running her fingers over the fabric. "These designs are adorable." She paused, eyes landing on one shirt in particular—a muscular Pikachu flexing like a bodybuilder. She raised an eyebrow, amused. "And this?"

Austin groaned internally, already feeling the heat creep up his face. He pointed at Pikachu, who was perched smugly on the table.

"…His idea."

Pikachu puffed out his chest, striking the exact pose as the buff Pikachu on the shirt. "Pika!"

Delia laughed. "Oh, no need to be embarrassed! I love it." She grinned at her son. "How about I buy one?"

"You can just have one."

"What kind of mother would I be if I didn't support my son's business?"

"You should've told me this sooner. You could've been my first customer."

Delia beamed. "Well, since I wasn't, how about you make me a custom one? Something only I can wear."

Austin chuckled. "Alright, sure. What kind of design do you want?"

Delia tilted her head playfully. "Hmm… I don't know. Surprise me."

Austin sighed. He already knew this conversation was going nowhere. Delia was the type of mom who would love anything just because her son made it. No, if he was doing this, he was going to make something good.

"Alright," Austin said. "What's your favorite Pokémon?"

Pikachu immediately tapped his chest, grinning. "Pika!"

Austin pinched his partner's cheek. "Not you."

Delia laughed, then paused for a moment before saying, "Riolu."

Austin froze.

"…Wait, what?"

Delia smiled at his stunned expression. "Oh, you don't know? Riolu is this—"

Austin kind of blanked out as she started explaining. He already knew what a Riolu was. That wasn't what shocked him. What shocked him was that Delia's favorite Pokémon was Riolu. In everything he had ever seen about her, Delia Ketchum was just… Ash's mom. A woman who cooked, cleaned, and waved happily as her son ran off on his adventure. Nothing deeper than that.

But now he had questions.

"That's… an interesting choice," Austin said slowly. "Why is Riolu your favorite?"

Delia smiled fondly. "Because it was the folklore hero Pokémon of the town I grew up in."

Austin's stomach dropped.

"…What town was that?"

"Rota."

Austin stiffened.

His mind raced. Rota? As in, the Rota from the Lucario movie? The one with Sir Aaron's Lucario? That means— Wait… could I actually free him? Lucario reacted to Ash's aura in the movie. But my soul isn't Ash's… would it react to me?

"Sweetheart?" Delia's voice pulled him from his spiraling thoughts. "You got really serious just now. Is something wrong?"

Austin blinked, quickly composing himself.

"Oh… no. I was just thinking of a Riolu design for you, Mom."

Delia's face lit up. "Oh, baby, you don't have to think so much! I'll just take this Pikachu shirt!"

Pikachu cheered as Delia scratched behind his ears.

Austin, however, was already lost in thought.

---

"So cute!"

Delia squealed in delight, clasping her hands together as Austin introduced her to his Pokémon. Her eyes sparkled with warmth, taking in the unique personalities of each one.

Austin, standing proudly, chuckled. "Well, my team isn't the biggest, but I'm proud of each and every member..." His voice carried a quiet confidence, a sense of pride that ran deeper than just words. "...of my family."

His gaze shifted toward his Pokémon, and as if on cue, his most problematic—yet proud—bird was sitting off to the side.

Spearow.

The small, sharp-eyed bird sat on a plush pillow, the cone of shame securely fastened around his neck—a precaution from Nurse Joy to prevent any sudden, unprovoked attacks. If looks could kill, the cone would have burst into flames. Spearow sat there, shoulders stiff, his feathers slightly ruffled in sheer displeasure. His beady eyes flicked toward Delia, narrowing slightly, as if daring her to say anything about his current predicament.

Delia hesitated.

Austin noticed immediately.

He wasn't blind to how people reacted to Spearow. They saw aggression. A temperamental fighter. Someone unpredictable. Dangerous. Something to be cautious of.

But that wasn't what Austin saw. He saw a Pokémon that wanted respect, not fear.

Austin walked over, crouching beside Spearow.

"This is Spearow," he said, his tone steady. "My eyes in the sky. The best flying-type in Kanto." He smirked. "And soon? The best in the world."

Spearow's eyes widened slightly. Then, his chest puffed out. Austin reached forward, scratching just behind the bird's angular beak, right where the feathers were softest.

Spearow froze for a brief second—then slowly, instinctively leaned in. The tension melted from his small frame, his wings drooping ever so slightly, and for a rare, fleeting moment, he looked utterly relaxed.

"I… I didn't know Spearows could be this adorable!"

The moment she said it, Spearow's eyes snapped open.

His entire body tensed. Then, in an instant, he jerked away from Austin's hand, straightened his back, and turned his head away in the most dramatic, 'I'm too cool for this' motion possible.

A perfect, badass pose.

Unfortunately, the effect was completely ruined by the cone.

Austin couldn't stop himself from grinning, and neither could Delia, who giggled behind her hands.

Spearow side-eyed them sharply.

Delia cleared her throat quickly. "Oh! What I meant was… handsome."

Spearow gave a satisfied nod.

Austin rolled his eyes—then suddenly felt small claws scratching at his pants. He looked down just in time to see a familiar tiny figure trying to climb up his leg. Grinning, he bent down and carefully scooped up Rattata, hoisting her up so that her small feet dangled in the air.

"And this little lady," he said, holding her up with one hand, "is the fastest—"

"Pika!"
"Spear!"
"Horsea!"

A chorus of protests erupted from Pikachu, Spearow, and Horsea all at once.

Austin didn't acknowledge them.

"—and the most spunky member of the team."

Rattata let out a triumphant squeak.

Delia cooed. "Oh, she's precious! How about I make her a little hat? Something cute!"

The moment she said it, the other Pokémon lost their minds.

Pikachu stomped his tiny foot. "Pika!"
Spearow flared his wings aggressively. "Spear!"
Horsea bubbled loudly in protest. "Sseaaa!"

"… I think you're gonna have to make hats for everyone."

Delia giggled. "Of course, of course!" She booped Rattata's nose, making the tiny Pokémon's whiskers wiggle excitedly. "But the first one? That's for you, my little lady."

Rattata chattered happily, already envisioning her new look. Austin set Rattata down and turned toward the small water bowl beside them.

"And now," he said, carefully lifting up a small, wiggling Pokémon, "our newest member. And the future dragon of the team."

Horsea.

The tiny seahorse let out a cheerful trill, blinking up at Delia with big, innocent eyes.

"How can something this cute turn into a ferocious dragon?"

Tell that to Game Freak.

Horsea twitched at that—then, without warning, sprayed a small jet of water straight at Delia's face.

"Ah!"

Delia yelped, stumbling back as drops of water dripped from her blouse.

Rattata squeaked indignantly, as if saying, See?! Horsea's a future dragon!

Austin, meanwhile, was holding back laughter.

Delia sighed, pinching her earlobes. "Alright, alright! I apologize! I don't know much about Pokémon, but I'm sure you'll become a beautiful dragon. And when you do? I'll throw you the biggest party ever!"

Horsea released a few happy bubbles, clearly forgiving her.

"See? She gets me."

Austin smiled before glancing around.

"...Where's Vee?"

Pikachu pointed toward the bathroom.

Austin narrowed his eyes. "Vee, come out. I have someone special I want you to meet."

"...Um."

Austin frowned.

He walked over, pushed the bathroom door open and a roll of toilet paper slowly unraveled onto the floor. There, in the middle of the absolute disaster zone, sat Vee —Umbreon, completely wrapped in toilet paper. It was everywhere—around his tail, tangled in his ears, draped around his neck like a ridiculous scarf. And, of course, he had a chunk of toilet paper hanging from his mouth, which he was very actively chewing.

Austin sighed deeply.

"And this," he said, "is Vee."

Umbreon paused mid-chew.

"The biggest troublemaker on the team."

Umbreon slowly looked down.

Delia covered her mouth, laughing.

Austin exhaled, stepping forward and carefully untangling the paper.

"But I love him," he murmured.

Umbreon lifted his head slightly, blinking in surprise before softly nuzzling into Austin's hand.

Delia watched the entire scene unfold, a gentle warmth settling in her chest.

She didn't say anything. She just observed. The trust. The love. The unspoken understanding. And in that moment, Delia Ketchum knew she had nothing to worry about.

Her son was growing into a fine young man.

---

The rest of the day had been a blur of activity. With the tournament gaining more traction, Austin had found himself busier than ever. Delia had proven to be an absolute powerhouse when it came to selling T-shirts. Her natural charisma and enthusiasm had single-handedly doubled their sales, charming passersby and trainers alike. And, of course, his marketing strategy had worked brilliantly.

A Pikachu in a buff Pikachu T-shirt?
A Rattata sporting a tiny cap with her own face on it?

The kids loved it. The media ate it up.

With the local Cerulean news covering the tournament, the event had begun gaining massive popularity. At least fifty trainers had signed up, some even bragging about how they had traveled from Vermilion City just for the prize money. Austin, sitting at a makeshift registration table, was scribbling down trainer IDs onto the official league documentation.

Everything was running smoothly.

BANG.

The sudden slam of a palm against the table jolted Austin from his paperwork.

His eyes flicked up. Standing there, grinning like he had just won the lottery, was Gary Oak.

"I caught it!"

"…What?"

"A Magikarp," Gary said, grinning wider.

"…Okay?"

"What do you mean, okay?! Don't you get it? Now I can do my own research on Magikarp!"

Austin sighed, already sensing where this was going.

"So what exactly," he said slowly, "are you planning to discover, Professor Gary?"

The sarcasm was palpable. Gary, however, missed it entirely.

"I'm glad you asked!" He crossed his arms, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "I'm gonna research how Magikarp can breathe out of water."

Austin stared at him for a long moment. Then, without looking up, he casually picked up another entry form and continued writing.

"Already been done."

Gary blinked. "What?"

Austin didn't even pause. "That research was conducted by Professor Quincy T. Quackenpoker in 1973. Published in The International Journal of Aquatic Pokémon Studies."

Gary's jaw slightly unhinged. "…You're making that up."

Austin finally glanced up, giving him a flat look.

"Gary," he said, "I spent days researching major scientific studies on Magikarp to see if anyone had ever documented a Dragon Rage-capable one. Do you really think I wouldn't have come across something as basic as respiration studies?"

There was a beat of silence.

"…Well, whatever," Gary huffed, crossing his arms. "I'll just do research on something else."

Austin smirked, returning to his paperwork.

"Uh-huh. You do that, Professor Gary."

"Sign me up."

Austin raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"The tournament, obviously," Gary said.

"You're serious?"

"Of course I am. I've already beaten Brock. This'll be easy money."

Before Austin could respond, a loud buzzer echoed through the gym. Gary immediately went on alert, his hand instinctively reaching for a Poké Ball. "What's that? Trouble?"

"No. It means someone defeated Misty."

Gary stiffened. "Wait—what? So… the tournament's over?"

"It means the winner moves on to the second round."

Gary's confusion was visible, so Austin leaned back, deciding to spell it out for him.

"See," Austin began, "the tournament is divided into two sections. The first round is where trainers fight Misty. If they win, they qualify for the second round—the actual tournament."

"Wait… so fighting Misty wasn't the tournament?"

"Nope."

Gary's immediate scowl told him everything he needed to know.

"Oh," Austin said, "you thought fighting Misty was the whole thing, didn't you?"

Gary's huff was all the confirmation needed.

"Doesn't matter," the boy muttered. "I'll just win the whole thing."

Austin chuckled, sliding a registration form across the table. "Well, good luck with that, Professor Gary."

As Gary scribbled down his details, Austin went back over his mental checklist.

The main appeal of this tournament was simple: money. A solid prize pool ensured that high-level trainers from other cities were showing up, thinking they had a shot at easy cash.

Austin had structured the competition so that Round 1 forced every trainer to battle Misty—which meant that Misty racked up legitimate wins, boosting her battle record to apply for the gym leader position.

And Round 2? It became a battle royale between the best trainers—where Austin himself could enter.

And if he entered? He'd win—which meant he kept the prize money.

Austin bit back a smirk.

This whole tournament was a money-printing machine, and he wasn't about to lose a single cent of investment. And on top of all that, Damien was bringing Charmander straight to him.

It was almost too perfect.

Almost.

Because, of course, nothing in life was ever that easy.

"Excuse me."

Austin looked up to see a furious-looking teenager, around fifteen, stomping toward him.

"Yeah?" Austin said, already bracing himself.

The guy scowled. "My wallet got stolen."

"…Stolen?"

"Yeah!" The teen ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I was talking to this girl near your T-shirt stand—she was super cute, right? I was gonna buy her a shirt 'cause she liked one, and then—" He gestured wildly. "—boom! My wallet's just gone!"

Austin sighed. Of course, life couldn't just let him run his tournament in peace.

No.

There always had to be something. Because, apparently, in reality, success wasn't a straight road—it was a twisting, turning mess full of problems.

And right now?

He had a pickpocket to deal with.

---

Next chapter drops on March 2nd!

(But if you're eager to read ahead, you can check out early chapters over on Patreon!)

Let me know what you thought of this chapter—your feedback keeps me going and inspires new ideas. Thank you all for being part of this journey! You've been amazing readers, and I'm so grateful for your support.

Until next time,
—Adamo Amet

 

[ThunderBasilisk]

Fantastic chapter as always. And I honestly can't wait till Charmander shows up.

 

[Lillie Jones]

Thanks for the chapter
The Journey continues
Cheers!

 

[Adamos_Amet]

It was the 90s.

Austin never thought he'd have to actually say that to himself, but today proved otherwise.

As someone from the 2010s, he had been so used to security cameras being everywhere—street corners, convenience stores, even random intersections.

But it was 1998.

Unless you were in a bank, a high-end retail store, a casino, or a government building, the concept of security cameras wasn't commonplace—which was why the Cerulean Gym didn't have a security system. So when the wallet theft incident happened, Officer Jenny was called, and a formal police report was filed. Unfortunately, there was little to go on, and with no other reports of pickpocketing, Officer Jenny had logged the case and would continue investigating, but nothing immediate could be done.

Austin had assured the guy that they'd look into installing security measures and that if they found the thief, they'd do their best to recover his stolen belongings.

With that, the matter was "resolved."

For the rest of the day, the incident sat in the back of his mind.

Whoever pulled it off wasn't some clumsy amateur.

No other pickpocketing incidents.
No clear eyewitness accounts.
No scent trails for Growlithe to track.
No signs of it happening.

At some point, this stopped being a coincidence and started looking like the work of a professional. And Austin had a pretty good idea of who that professional was.

Leaf Green.

A master pickpocket, con artist, and survivalist. With her Ditto's ability to disguise her, tracking her down would be near impossible—unless she wanted to be found.

And Austin wanted to find her. Because if he was right—if this was Leaf—then that meant opportunity.

I need to find her… Austin thought, mind already running through possible strategies. And once I do… how do I convince her to help me?

A series of sharp finger snaps suddenly broke the boy from his thoughts.

"Oh, he's finally back with us," Misty said, raising an eyebrow.

Austin blinked, realizing he had been zoning out. The entire table was looking at him. They were all seated for dinner, and his plate was still mostly untouched.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" Delia's voice was concerned as she leaned slightly toward him. "You haven't eaten anything, and you have this deep, serious look on your face." She hesitated. "When did this start? Is it contagious? Should I be worried?"

Austin sweatdropped. Only Ash Ketchum could make deep thinking sound like a medical condition.

"I was just thinking about the pickpocket incident from this morning," Austin admitted, finally taking a bite of the food in front of him.

The gnocchi Misty had made was soft yet firm, perfectly coated in a brown butter sauce with hints of rosemary. The nutty richness melted onto his tongue, a stark contrast to the heavy thoughts in his mind.

"You think it could affect the tournament?" Misty asked, her tone serious now.

Austin nodded. "If more thefts happen, it'll cause a disruption. Trainers will start getting paranoid, the media attention will shift from the battles to security issues, and the whole thing could turn into a mess."

Misty's expression hardened. "Then we should install a security system."

"I know a guy who can get us a good deal on tech," Lily chimed in, stirring her drink lazily.

Austin smirked. "Don't worry about spending money on that."

Violet frowned. "Why not?"

"Because I know three guys who'll do it for free."

That got everyone's attention.

Daisy tilted her head. "Who?"

Austin set his fork down.

"The vendor trio."

Blank looks.

"You mean the three guys who look like they're barely surviving paycheck to paycheck?"

Austin nodded.

"I don't know about this," Misty admitted. "They don't seem like the type to—"

"Trust me," Austin said, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Those three? They're comically good with tech." And being comically bad at being criminals was left unsaid.

Misty hesitated, but after a moment, sighed.

"Alright, fine. If you think they can handle it, we'll give them a shot."

Austin nodded.

Meanwhile, Delia watched quietly, taking everything in. Her son—the youngest at the table—was the one leading the charge. Not just with his own battles, but with planning, strategizing, organizing. He spoke with confidence, made calculated decisions, and had an ability to predict problems before they arose.

And more than that… everyone was listening to him.

They didn't dismiss him as just a kid. They didn't brush off his words as irrelevant. They trusted his judgment. Delia didn't know whether to be impressed, proud, or just outright shocked.

Maybe all three.

---

The moon hung high over Cerulean Gym, casting its silvery glow over the city. Inside the gym, however, the air buzzed with energy. While everyone else had settled in for the night, Austin was wide awake, standing in the center of the gym with his Pokémon gathered before him.

Thanks to the sound barriers he had installed, they could go all out without disturbing a soul.

Austin surveyed his team.

Pikachu stood tall, tail flicking in anticipation. Rattata was fidgeting, her energy barely contained. Vee sat still, watching with quiet amusement. Spearow looked half-bored, half-annoyed at being awake at this hour. And finally, Horsea—blinking her big, round eyes—looked slightly confused but determined. She was the newest member. This was her first team training session.

And it was eleven at night. Yet, despite that, she was pushing through. Austin couldn't help but respect that.

"Alright, team," Austin said, crossing his arms as he addressed them. "Listen up."

Everyone's attention snapped to him.

"As you know, Misty is hosting a tournament. And the grand prize? Provided by yours truly."

A few of his Pokémon tilted their heads, already sensing the but that was coming.

"But I'm not just gonna let that money go without a fight."

Pikachu's cheeks sparked. Rattata's tail flicked in excitement. Even Spearow, who had been pretending not to care, let out a quiet, "Spear."

"So, here's the deal. We're gonna train harder than ever. We're gonna beat Misty. And then? We're winning the entire damn tournament."

A wave of cheers erupted from his team. Austin turned toward Pikachu and Rattata. "You two will be the first to start."

Pikachu's ears perked up, and Rattata stood a little taller, tail swishing.

"We'll start slow, gradually ramping up."

Before either could argue that they could handle it right away, Austin reached into his bag. A small metal cube gleamed under the gym lights.

A TM for Thunderbolt.

"With this… we're officially broke."

The entire team stiffened, the weight of the situation sinking in. Losing wasn't an option. They had to win it all.

"Good. I'm glad everyone understands what's at stake."

He tossed Pikachu's Poké Ball into the TM box. A soft hum filled the air as the machine whirred to life, transferring the move's data directly into Pikachu.

A second later, he did the same for Rattata. Austin pressed the button, and the two reappeared.

Pikachu blinked rapidly, electricity crackling faintly around his cheeks. Rattata shook her head, then twitched as tiny sparks danced along her whiskers.

They had the move. Now they had to master it.

Austin crouched slightly. "Pikachu, you've had more experience dealing with Electric-type energy. Help Rattata get used to it."

Pikachu gave a determined nod, turning to Rattata.

The little lady squared her tiny shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. The two of them trotted off to the other side of the training grounds, already sparking small bursts of electricity between them.

Austin let out a satisfied breath.

Step one? Done.

The boy turned to the remaining three. Vee sat watching with quiet amusement. Spearow looked about three seconds away from dozing off. And Horsea… was staring at the TM box.

"Don't worry, you're getting something too."

He reached into his bag once again, pulling out another TM.

Hidden Power.

The same one Flint had given him. With how many uses it had, Austin was sure it was some kind of emergency fund for Brock and the others. But still, he was more than glad to have it for his team. He popped Horsea's Poké Ball into the TM machine. The device hummed to life again, and when Austin released her, Horsea blinked, looking slightly dazed but otherwise fine.

Austin turned to Vee. "Help Horsea figure out what her Hidden Power type is."

Vee smirked.

Then, his body shimmered.

In a smooth, effortless motion, he shifted from Umbreon into Vaporeon, his sleek, aquatic form practically glistening under the gym lights.

Horsea gawked. Her little eyes went wide as she let out a startled, "Seaa!?"

Vee merely grinned, his expression playfully smug as they ran.

Austin smirked as he watched them go. Now, he turned to the last remaining Pokémon.

The bird stared at him, feathers ruffled, looking supremely uninterested.

"Guess that just leaves you, buddy."

Spearow's glare deepened.

Austin's smirk returned. Time to put his best soldier through hell.

---

The air inside the gym was thick with the scent of damp stone and the faint hum of electricity. Midnight had long passed, and yet, the training ground was alive with energy. Austin stood at the edge of the makeshift obstacle course, his whistle resting between his fingers, eyes locked onto his Pokémon.

The setup was simple in theory—brutal in execution.

Austin had used his old climbing ropes, tying them across the width of the Cerulean Gym's central pool, creating a network of suspended paths just high enough above the water to be unforgiving.

If Spearow fell? He'd go straight into the deep end.

The goal was precision footwork—something no Spearow had ever needed before. The additional challenge? He'd have to dodge incoming attacks while crossing.

Pikachu and Rattata were stationed at the far side, sending Thunderbolt attacks his way. Horsea was in the water, ready to snipe him with a Hidden Power—Poison-type. Vee, perched on a ledge, would rain down Swift attacks, forcing Spearow to weave, duck, and redirect his momentum mid-step.

The entire concept relied on science and technique.

Bird Pokémon weren't designed for sustained footwork—their center of gravity was higher due to their hollow bones, making balance a challenge. Jumping across unstable ropes required explosive strength from his legs. His talons weren't meant for gripping swinging surfaces; they were built for perching or clutching prey. But if they could break through that limit—if Spearow could adapt—he would gain a completely unpredictable edge in battle.

Austin raised his whistle.

"All right, Spearow!" His voice was sharp. "Let's go!"

Spearow crouched low, wings tucked, talons gripping the gym floor as he sized up the first rope.

The first gap wasn't that far—a two-foot jump to the first rope. He kicked off the ground and immediately overshot it. His claws skidded on the rope's surface, his wings instinctively flaring for balance.

ZAP!

A bolt of electricity from Pikachu arced through the air. Spearow jerked his body mid-air, but the sudden movement only made things worse.

His footing slipped.

SPLASH!

Straight into the water. Austin let out a slow breath as Horsea snorted. Spearow surfaced, furious, shaking off the water. Pikachu and Rattata winced. Vee, from his ledge, just gave a slow, unimpressed flick of his tail.

Austin crouched by the pool's edge. "All right, reset."

Spearow glared up at him, his pride stinging worse than the water.

"Listen," Austin said, calm but firm. "You can't jump like you're flying. You have to push off with control. Use just enough power to reach the next rope—not more, not less."

Spearow huffed but nodded. Austin pulled him out of the water. "Again."

Spearow narrowed his eyes, crouching again. This time, he took a shorter jump—but too short. His talons barely caught the rope, and as soon as he tried to swing onto it—

"SEA!"

Horsea fired a Hidden Power—Poison.

Spearow instinctively dodged the wave of purple energy and fell again.

"Spearow," Austin advised, "you can't dodge mid-jump if you don't have footing. Get on the rope first. Then react."

Spearow glared daggers at him.

Austin just pointed at the start of the course. "Again."

It took three more failures before Spearow landed properly. The moment his talons clenched onto the first rope without slipping, Austin blew the whistle.

"Good! Now—move!"

Spearow hopped to the second rope, this time adjusting his balance, learning how to use his tail and wings to counteract the swinging.

"Ratta-Tata-TAA!"

A Thunderbolt shot toward him. Spearow threw his weight sideways, shifting just enough for the lightning to graze past him.

YES.

Austin clenched his fist.

By the time attempt #12 ended in another crash landing, Austin knew they had to stop. Spearow was soaked. Exhausted. His jumps were getting slower, his movements sloppier. Pushing further wouldn't help.

Austin lifted his whistle. One short blow. "That's it. We're done for the night."

Spearow snapped his head toward him, visibly frustrated. Austin crossed his arms. "You're too tired to improve now. If we keep pushing, you're gonna build bad habits." Spearow hesitated. Then, reluctantly, he fluttered to the ground, shaking out his drenched feathers.

Austin crouched beside him.

"You're getting better," he said seriously. "You just need time."

Spearow let out a low, grumbling chirp. Austin smirked, scratching lightly behind his head feathers.

"This is just the start."

Spearow grumbled again but leaned slightly into the touch.

"All right, team," he said, voice hushed. "Bath, then bed."

The Pokémon let out quiet cheers, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten at the mention of a warm bath. Austin immediately shushed them, motioning for everyone to move silently toward their rooms. The last thing they needed was to wake the others.

The bathroom was warm with soft candlelight, steam curling from the giant tub Austin had filled with bubbles and warm water.

"All right," Austin said, rolling up his sleeves. "Who's first?"

SPLASH! Rattata had already dived in, paddling in circles with a happy squeak. Pikachu hopped in after her, flicking suds at her playfully.

"Yeah, should've seen that coming."

Vee, on the other hand, elegantly stepped into the water, only getting in as much as necessary. He perched on the edge of the tub, watching the chaos unfold with mild amusement. Horsea was next.

Austin gently lowered her into the water, and she let out a content little sigh, blowing soft bubbles in the water.

Spearow? He had to pry him off his arm.

The second the bird touched the water, he flapped wildly, sending a storm of bubbles flying in all directions. Vee hissed, flicking his tail in annoyance as suds clung to his fur. Pikachu laughed. Rattata splashed right back. Spearow gawked, offended, before immediately diving into a full-on retaliation.

It turned into an all-out war.

"I just wanted a calm bath."

At this point, he should've known better. Still, as he scrubbed down his team, making sure their fur and feathers were clean, he couldn't help but smile.

This was… nice.

Once they were washed, dried, and smelling like lavender soap, Austin led them back to their sleeping areas. One by one, he tucked them in.

Rattata curled up in her nest of blankets, her tiny paws twitching as she dreamed. Pikachu nuzzled into his pillow, tail flicking slightly before going still. Horsea rested in her small, filtered tank, bubbles rising softly around her. Vee sprawled out on Austin's bed, claiming the entire middle. Spearow, finally warm and dry, sat on his perch, eyes already closing.

Austin smiled, lingering for a moment before stepping out, making his way toward the kitchen, stomach growling. Maybe there were still some leftovers from earlier.

"Hey…"

At the table, a mug of coffee in hand, sat Delia Ketchum. Why is she awake? Did she hear something? Did I wake her up?

"You're up early," Austin said carefully.

Delia took a slow sip of her coffee, her eyes twinkling with quiet amusement. "I woke up to get some water," she said, "and I saw you training your Pokémon from the window, so…" She smiled. "I just watched."

"Well, I was just grabbing something to eat," Austin muttered, making his way toward the fridge. "Then heading to bed."

Delia tilted her head, watching him closely.

"You've changed," she murmured.

Austin stiffened. He stopped moving, one hand still reaching for a container of food. "Changed?" Does she know? Does she suspect something?

She smiled.

"Ash," she said softly. "Or… would you rather me call you Austin?"

Austin's chest tightened. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it was lodged in his throat. Despite his paranoia, Delia wasn't accusing him. Her gaze was warm. Fond. She wasn't questioning him. She was trying to understand him.

"What do you mean?"

Delia chuckled softly.

"I remember the day you went looking for Pokémon for your kindergarten assessment—without telling me."

Austin blinked.

Delia smiled, eyes distant with fond memory. "It started raining, and I was worried sick looking for you," she continued. "And when I finally found you, do you know what you were doing?"

Austin shook his head.

"You had brought a bunch of wild Pokémon out of the rain," she said softly. "You found shelter for them under a hollow tree. You barely even noticed how soaked you were because you were too busy taking care of them."

Austin stared at her.

"And now, seeing you train your Pokémon so passionately… I can't help but remember how much you've always loved Pokémon. Ever since you were my baby."

Her smile turned teasing.

"What am I saying? You still are my baby."

Austin hummed, something tight settling in his chest as he realized just how much more there was to Ash Ketchum's life. More than just what he saw in the anime. There were memories, moments, experiences he had never seen. There was a mother who loved him. Even though he didn't choose any of this, he felt guilty because, in a way… he had taken this life.

His hand clenched slightly.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

Austin hesitated, then said, "What if I wasn't your son?"

Delia frowned slightly, setting her mug down.

"What would you think of me then?" He had no idea why he asked. Maybe he just wanted to hear it…

"I would see a responsible, hardworking young man who loves his Pokémon," she said warmly. "Someone respected by his friends."

"Someone who walks forward with confidence, and can back it up."

Austin's breath hitched. She wasn't just saying that. She meant it. Something in his chest unclenched.

"Thank you... Mom."

Delia smiled warmly, watching her son with quiet amusement.

"I still haven't gotten an answer... Ash or Austin?"

"Let's just go with Austin." His lips twitched. "Since I've changed."

Delia rolled her eyes but didn't argue. "Oh, I know how much you've changed, boy."

"Oh yeah? Like how?"

Delia didn't even hesitate. "Well, let's start with day one… You caught a Spearow. That alone means you had a run-in with the entire Spearow flock."

Austin froze.

She continued, her tone casual but knowing. "Then, Team Rocket attacked the Pokémon Center."

Austin's jaw was on the floor. Delia chuckled at his reaction. "What?" She grinned. "I'm your mother. Of course, I ask for updates on your situation from Professor Oak."

Austin blinked, still processing.

"You… do that?"

Delia smiled knowingly. "Of course." She tilted her head. "I just made sure you wouldn't find out."

Austin stared.

"I wanted you to have your adventure," she said gently. "To live your own life. But I'm also your mom. And I can't help but worry, you know?"

She reached out, cupping his cheek gently. Austin hesitated for a fraction of a second—then, he leaned into her touch. "But I know one thing for certain, sweetheart."

Austin blinked up at her. "What?"

"You're lying to me."

Austin's stomach dropped. He swallowed, shifting slightly. "I—"

"The way you move." Her eyes narrowed slightly, scanning him like she had already figured him out. "Careful. Cautious. Confident, but only when everything is going according to a plan."

Her thumb brushed against his cheek absentmindedly. "You only learn to move like that when you've been in serious situations."

Austin felt his breath catch. For a moment, his brain scrambled for an excuse. For a lie—something, anything to explain away her observation.

"You don't have to say anything," Delia murmured, cutting off his thoughts. Her expression remained gentle, filled with understanding. "Just promise me," she whispered.

Austin swallowed hard.

"Promise me you'll keep yourself safe. Stay healthy." She smiled, a playful glint in her eyes. "And for the love of Mew, wear clean underwear."

"That's the plan," he joked.

Delia smirked, ruffling his already messy hair. "Good."

The moment eased into something lighter.

Delia's gaze flickered to the container of leftovers in Austin's hand.

"Stop eating that."

Austin instinctively pulled it closer. "Why?"

"Because I'll cook you something fresh."

"You don't have to."

"Hush." Delia flicked his forehead playfully. "Mother knows best."

Austin sighed dramatically, setting the container on the counter.

"Fine, fine," he muttered, pretending to be defeated.

Delia hummed in satisfaction, picking up the container and moving toward the fridge.

"So," she mused, opening the door, "what do you feel like eating? Kalos toast? I know you love—"

She turned back and stopped. Austin was asleep. He had slumped forward, arms folded beneath his head, his breathing slow and steady.

Delia's heart softened instantly. She took a slow step forward, crouching slightly to be level with his sleeping face. A lock of black hair fell over his forehead, and she gently brushed it aside with her fingers. Then, with the utmost care, she pressed a soft kiss to his temple.

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Don't grow up too fast, sweetheart."

She lingered for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

"Just be happy."

She smiled.

"That's all Mom wants."

---

Next chapter drops on March 8th!

(But if you're eager to read ahead, you can check out early chapters over on Patreon!)

Let me know what you thought of this chapter—your feedback keeps me going and inspires new ideas. Thank you all for being part of this journey! You've been amazing readers, and I'm so grateful for your support.

Until next time,
—Adamo Ame8

 

[Lillie Jones]

thanks for the chapter
The Journey continues

 

[DannyPhantom619]

I've enjoyed this story as much as Pokemon Trainer Vicky.

Really hope Austin/Ash learns how to use Aura in the future. Bet it'd be easier to find tricky opponents like Leaf if he was taught.

 

[Adamos_Amet]

The morning sun spilled into the Cerulean Gym, casting golden hues over the now-bustling main hall. After a hearty breakfast, Delia packed up her things, giving Austin one last hug before leaving for Pallet Town.

"Take care of yourself, sweetheart," she said, squeezing him tight.

"I will," Austin promised.

"And wear clean underwear," Delia added with a teasing smile.

Austin sighed playfully. "That one might be a challenge."

Delia laughed, ruffling his hair one last time before waving goodbye.

Not even fifteen minutes later, a familiar trio strolled into the gym, right on schedule.

Jessie. James. Meowth.

Unlike their usual over-the-top entrances, they arrived casually, adjusting their uniforms and yawning like they had actually become responsible workers.

Austin grinned, already prepared for them.

"All right, guys," he started. "Before we get to work, I need your help with something."

"Smells like bonus pay, boss."

"That it does," James said.

"You treat us too well," Jessie added, her stomach audibly growling.

"I just know how to keep my best workers happy."

The trio beamed at the praise.

"All right, here's the deal," Austin continued. "We had a pickpocket incident the other day, and Misty and I agreed it's time to install a security system. Think you three can handle that?"

The moment he said it, the trio snapped into business mode. Jessie adjusted her gloves. James straightened his jacket. Meowth cracked his knuckles.

"Boss, ya talkin' to da best. Dis is gonna be a cakewalk."

And with that, they were off.

The next hour was a blur of activity.

Jessie took charge, directing the placement of hidden cameras and motion detectors in key areas of the gym. James set up the main control panel, making sure all the systems were linked and running smoothly.

Meowth, despite being the smallest, did all the wiring and installations, his claws surprisingly precise as he ran cables through the walls and ceiling.

"Meowth, hand me the screwdriver," James called.

Without looking, Meowth tossed it over his shoulder, and James caught it perfectly.

"You guys… are really good at this."

"You expected anything less?"

Meowth wiped his paws. "Kid, we ain't just good. We're da best."

Soon enough, the job was done.

James leaned back with a satisfied sigh, wiping sweat from his forehead. "And that should do it."

Austin nodded approvingly, inspecting the sleek, hidden security panel now mounted near the entrance.

"Great job, guys," he said, pushing the food cart forward.

The trio's eyes sparkled.

"We love you, boss," they chorused.

Austin grinned. "Love you too."

As they dug into their well-earned meal, he casually added, "After you eat, one of you is gonna have to show me how to actually use the system."

James raised a hand. "I'll do it. I love teaching."

Jessie rolled her eyes. "You love hearing yourself talk."

Meowth, mouth full, muttered, "Same thing."

Austin just chuckled, watching as the trio wasted no time devouring their food.

Jessie daintily picked at her salad, eating with an air of self-importance, while James—a certified rich boy—ate like he was fine dining. Meowth was going to war with his food. The cat Pokémon had one plate in each paw, alternating bites so quickly that Austin half-expected his jaw to unhinge like an Ekans.

"Sweet merciful Arceus, Meowth," Austin gawked. "Did ya even chew that?"

Meowth paused mid-bite, blinking. "Chewin's optional."

Jessie scoffed. "You're going to choke one day."

Meowth shrugged, stuffing another bite into his mouth.

Austin shook his head, then said, "I was thinking of making some custom shirts for you three. You can each pick a Pokémon design."

Meowth's ears perked. "Oh, oh, I want a Meowth, obviously!"

Austin chuckled. "No surprises there."

James tapped his chin, eyes wistful. "A Growlithe," he said quietly.

Austin caught the tone immediately.

Jessie waved a hand dismissively. "Just give me a plain shirt. I don't really like joke shirts."

Austin smirked. "I'll throw in a plain one and a joke one."

"You'd do that?"

Austin shrugged. "Why wouldn't I? You guys are awesome. If I had a legit business, I'd hire you three in a heartbeat. Best workers ever."

For a moment—just a split second—the trio froze. They looked at each other, unspoken words passing between them. They had never been praised like this before.

Not in Team Rocket.

Austin could see it—the way James fidgeted, the way Jessie's usual bravado faltered, the way Meowth's ears twitched like he didn't know how to process what he just heard. Finally, Austin leaned forward.

"Actually," he said casually, "I'm kinda curious. What did you guys do before working here?"

Jessie and James immediately stiffened.

Meowth licked his lips. "Well, ya see, we was just… grunts."

James sighed, looking down at his plate. "We're still just grunts. Honestly, nothing's changed."

"Hey, none of that. We are slowly moving up, right?! We recently got a promotion! Just wait it out, and we'll be executives!"

Austin's eyes narrowed slightly.

"That sounds nice."

Promotion? Executives? That was different from the anime. What had changed?

The trio exchanged nervous glances.

Jessie let out a forced laugh. "Haha, yes, nice, that's nice!"

James nodded rapidly. "Yes, executives! In the company we work for! Ho ho ho!"

Austin hummed. "Well, whatever this company is, I hope you guys succeed." He paused. "And if it fails, you can always contact me. I'd love to help you out."

The trio blinked.

"For real?" Meowth asked, ears twitching.

"Of course," Austin said sincerely. "From what I've seen, you guys could easily make it big on your own."

For a long moment, nobody spoke.

The trio looked at each other, their expressions quiet, thoughtful.

Austin just watched, hoping—just maybe—his words might change something. Because he genuinely liked them. And he wanted them to make it out of Team Rocket. But for now, he had his own things to deal with.

---

Austin sat in front of the security monitor, fingers steepled as he watched the screens with sharp focus. Lily had taken over T-shirt sales, freeing him up to keep an eye out for the thief. But after hours of nothing happening, boredom crept in.

His gaze flicked between the monitors, then down to his notebook, where he began mapping out his future plans.

As much as he loved Pokémon Adventures, he had to admit—the first two arcs were… messy. A lot of bold ideas, but the storytelling had been experimental, leaving gaps in motivations and character development.

Take Green, for example.

She was a thief, but why? The manga never really explored it deeply, at least not in a way he could remember. It left too many loose threads, which made dealing with her now all the more complicated.

Still—he had a plan.

"Pika, pika, pika!"

Austin snapped to attention as Pikachu pointed at the monitor showing the hallway leading to the bathrooms.

There, on the grainy security feed, was a couple. A nervous-looking boy—flushed and wide-eyed, clearly out of his depth—and a smirking girl leaning into him, her fingers tracing slow, playful circles over his chest.

She was pulling him in. Austin narrowed his eyes. At first glance, it looked like nothing more than a teenage romance moment. But Austin wasn't fooled. There—a tendril of something snaked from the girl's purse toward the guy's wallet.

Gotcha.

Austin shot up from his seat. "Let's go, Pikachu!"

The electric mouse hopped onto his shoulder as they sprinted down the hall.

By the time he arrived, the scene was playing out exactly as expected. The boy—dazed, completely in a love-high haze—barely noticed Austin's approach. The girl, coquettish and smooth, turned to him with an exaggerated pout.

"Oh, wow," she said dramatically. "Someone's in a hurry. Are you here to tell me how breathtaking I am, or should I compliment you this time, handsome?"

Her fingers traced the boy's arm, pulling him closer.

Austin didn't have time for this. He blew his whistle sharply. The girl winced, putting a hand to her ear. "Ugh! Rude, much?" She huffed. "Can't a girl enjoy a private moment with her new… friend?"

The boy blinked, looking at Austin half-annoyed, half-confused. "Hey, man, what's your problem?" he muttered, clearly still under her spell.

"My problem?" Austin folded his arms. "Buddy, check your wallet."

The boy frowned. "My wallet? Why would—" He froze. His hands patted his pockets. "W-Wait—!"

The girl clicked her tongue. "Aw, don't be like that," she purred, leaning in. "Maybe you just—dropped it somewhere. Or maybe…" She trailed a single finger down his chest, eyes gleaming. "Maybe this guy just ruined our perfect little moment because he's got some issues. You're not gonna let him come between us, are you?"

Austin rolled his eyes. This girl could sell ice to a Regice.

"Yeah, look here—" The boy turned back to Austin, brow furrowing.

"Pikachu—Thunderbolt!"

The hallway erupted in golden light as Pikachu's Thunderbolt struck its mark.

"Murder?!" the boy shrieked, stumbling back in horror, eyes wide with panic.

The girl's body shuddered, her skin rippling like liquid before collapsing in on itself—melting into a puddle of sickly purple goo. A wet, unnatural slithering filled the air. Austin didn't flinch. He knew exactly what this was. As the shifting, morphing mass of goo reformed, the disguise faded—revealing Green standing in the aftermath, Ditto at her feet. Her face was a mixture of shock and irritation, lips pursed in mild annoyance as she dusted off her now slightly singed sleeves.

"Ugh. Well, that's not very gentlemanly of you." She pouted dramatically. "Do you always treat girls this rough?"

"Only the pretty ones."

Green tilted her head, a slow grin creeping onto her face. "Ooh…"

Austin ignored her and turned to the still-dumbfounded boy.

"Go get the staff," he said. "Tell them Austin found the thief."

The boy didn't need to be told twice.

He bolted.

Green let out a mock sigh, placing a hand over her heart.

"Aww, leaving me all alone with you? Careful, Austin, people might talk~"

"Don't worry," he said, reaching for his belt. "I got you a gift."

With a flash of light, Spearow materialized.

Green's entire face lost color. The flirty smirk vanished instantly.

Austin saw the way her body stiffened—a clear, instinctive reaction to the trauma she still carried. Good. This would make their conversation easier. Green took a slow step back.

"W-What do you… want?" Her voice cracked slightly.

"I want to hire you for a job."

Green blinked. Even Pikachu and Spearow exchanged glances, as if they hadn't expected that. Green let out a mock gasp, placing a hand on her chest. "Oh, but I don't normally work with men who attack pretty girls like me. How ever will you make it up to me?"

Austin's smirk widened.

"I know who the Masked Man is."

Green jerked.

For the first time, her flirty mask slipped entirely. Her eyes widened. Her breath hitched. Austin let that sink in for one long second. Then—the sound of rushing footsteps.

"Time's up," he murmured.

Green's eyes darted between him and the incoming footsteps. Austin took a step closer.

"Meet me here at midnight." His voice was low, firm. "And I'll tell you everything."

Green clenched her fists.

For a moment, she looked like she wanted to demand answers from him. But then—her survival instincts won out. She grabbed a Poké Ball.

"Abracadabra, darling~" she sang.

With a flash of light, her Abra appeared. And in the blink of an eye, she was gone.

---

Daisy and the others pored over the security cameras, only to find one glaring problem—the footage was gone.

Deleted.

The only explanation? Teleportation.

With the culprit vanished without a trace, Officer Jenny had to be called, leaving Daisy and the others to handle damage control while Austin sat at the front desk, resuming his job selling shirts like nothing had happened.

At least, on the outside. Inside? His heart pounded. Everything had gone according to plan so far.

Green was hooked, and now all that was left was tonight's meeting. If he could convince her to check out Team Rocket's movements in Cerulean City, then…

"Oi, oi, where can I sign up for this stupid tournament?" An arrogant, grating voice cut through his thoughts like nails on a chalkboard. Austin's brows furrowed as he looked up, mildly annoyed.

Then he froze.

Standing before him was one of the biggest losers in Pokémon history.

Damien Calloway.

Behind him? Three random nobodies trailing behind like they were part of some low-rent entourage. Austin's fingers tightened around his pen. Damien. The asshole who abandoned Charmander.

Damien smirked, snapping his fingers. "Hey, hurry up and sign me up already."

Austin forced his expression neutral and pushed the sign-up sheet forward.

"Of course," he said smoothly. "Just sign here. You'll get a battle number, and when it's called, you'll fight Misty."

Damien rolled his eyes. "Great. Now I gotta waste my damn time with this."

Austin's hand twitched—he wanted to hit something. Preferably Damien's face. But not yet. Stick to the plan. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the phone. Dialed a number. After two rings, a familiar lazy voice answered. "Lowry & Lyle Investigations. This is Lyle. Who's callin'?"

"Hey, it's me," Austin said, his voice low. "The kid who hired you for the private investigation report."

"Ah. That kid. What can I do for ya this time?"

Austin's grip tightened on the receiver.

"I have another job for you. This time, it involves someone who abuses Pokémon."

There was a brief silence. Then—Lyle let out a slow, knowing hum.

"Justice, huh?"

"Justice can only be delivered with evidence. You up for it?"

---

"So, you ready to battle the great Gary Oak?" Gary's voice rang confidently across the battlefield as he stretched his arms, a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

"Cocky much? But I guess I shouldn't be surprised—you are Austin's self-proclaimed rival."

Gary stiffened. "Hey! I'm not a self-proclaimed anything!" He crossed his arms, huffing. "But I would expect that from Austin's self-proclaimed girlfriend."

Misty's face exploded into red. "W-What?!"

Before she could throw a retort, the referee coughed loudly. "Can we please start the match?" Both trainers nodded, their banter melting into focused determination as they grabbed their Poké Balls.

Misty was first. "Let's go, Wooper!"

In a flash of light, Wooper landed on the battlefield—right into a patch of thick, sticky mud.

"Woop! Woop!"

The little blue amphibian flailed excitedly, wiggling its tiny feet in the soft, damp terrain. The moment it realized it could splash around, it began bouncing up and down, spraying mud everywhere like a child in a puddle.

"Come on, focus!"

Wooper gave a tiny salute with its tail.

Gary, meanwhile, smirked and released his own Pokémon. "Time to shine, Nidorina!"

The moment Nidorina landed on the field, she let out a sharp growl, her ears twitching in alertness. The poison-type carried herself with calculated precision, eyes narrowing at Wooper's mud-covered antics.

The referee raised a hand. "Battle, begin!"

"Rain Dance!" Misty commanded.

Wooper clapped its tiny feet together, spun on one leg, then broke out into a ridiculous, energetic breakdance. Flipping onto its back, it kicked up mud, sending droplets everywhere as a dark cloud formed overhead. Within seconds, heavy rain began to pour, soaking the battlefield as Wooper twirled, utterly delighted.

"Did it really have to breakdance?"

"No. It just likes doing that."

Gary snorted. "Fine. Let's ruin its fun—Blizzard!"

Nidorina inhaled sharply, frosty air swirling into her mouth. With a roar, she unleashed a howling, icy wind, the temperature on the battlefield plummeting instantly. The rain transformed mid-air, each droplet crystallizing into sharp, pelting hailstones as the battlefield became coated in sheets of ice. Wooper yelped, slipping slightly as ice formed over the once-muddy ground.

The terrain advantage was gone.

Gary grinned. "That's right—mud ain't gonna help ya now!"

Misty's eyes darted across the field. Think. "Wooper—Brick Break! On the floor!"

Wooper hopped forward, its forehead glowing a bright white as it reared back. With all its strength, it slammed its skull straight into the ice. Cracks splintered outward, but—

"Aerial Ace!" Gary shouted.

Nidorina darted forward, white streaks of energy igniting along her frame. The slippery ice beneath her acted like a launch pad, sending her rocketing forward at an unnatural speed. Before Wooper could shatter the terrain, Nidorina slammed into it like a cannonball.

The little blue Pokémon soared backward, flipping end over end before crashing into the frozen ground.

Misty gasped. Wooper groaned, barely able to push itself up.

Gary smirked. "What now, water girl?"

Misty took a breath. "All right, then. Come at us."

Gary's brow furrowed. "What?"

Misty put on her best 'helpless' expression, feigning nervousness.

Gary's smirk widened. "Fine by me. Fury Swipes!"

Nidorina dashed forward, claws glinting. Just as she was about to strike, Wooper suddenly lunged forward, its tiny head smashing into Nidorina's stomach. A burst of green energy surged from the impact, siphoning orbs of vitality from Nidorina's body into Wooper's own.

Gary's eyes widened. "Drain Punch?!"

Misty smirked. "Gotcha."

Gary gritted his teeth. But—he still had one last ace. Nidorina staggered backward, but her body suddenly shook violently, an unnatural purple glow creeping along Wooper's body.

Poison.

Gary grinned. "You got a lucky hit—but too bad for you, Wooper's poisoned!"

Misty's smirk didn't fade.

"That's exactly what I wanted."

"Wait—"

"Facade!"

Wooper's body ignited with a fiery orange aura, its form pulsating with unstable energy. The moment poison entered its system, its attack power doubled. Wooper charged.

"Blizzard, now!" Gary shouted, panic setting in.

Nidorina unleashed another howling storm, ice and snow surging forward in a desperate attempt to stop Wooper, but it was too late. The orange glow cut through the storm, Wooper plowing straight through the ice-cold winds without slowing down.

CRASH.

Wooper collided head-on with Nidorina. The impact sent her flying, her body rolling to a stop at Gary's feet.

Silence.

"That… was amazing." Gary returned Nidorina to her Poké Ball, shaking his head with a small smirk. But then, his eyes drifted back to the battlefield.

Wooper wasn't moving.

The little Pokémon remained standing, its tiny feet planted firmly in the icy terrain. But the spirals in its eyes said it all.

A double KO.

The crowd held its breath, murmurs rippling through the audience as the referee hesitated, stepping forward to consult the camera crew.

A minute passed, then a sharp whistle pierced the air.

"After video review, it has been confirmed that Wooper was knocked out inside Nidorina's Blizzard but still managed to finish its attack by throwing its momentum forward. As such—" The blue flag shot into the air. "Victory goes to Gary Oak!"

The crowd roared.

Gary let out a breath, then turned back to Misty. "Your Wooper was incredible," he said, genuine admiration in his voice. "Throwing his weight forward even after he was knocked out… That's real guts."

Misty smiled, clutching Wooper's Poké Ball in her hands. "He was amazing. I couldn't have asked for more."

As she looked down at the Poké Ball, she could feel it—Wooper was ready. Ready to evolve. She could sense it just as clearly as she had with Starmie back when she first started battling.

Gary held out a hand. "Rematch sometime?"

"Count on it."

They shook hands just as the buzzer rang, signaling Gary moving onto the next round. The crowd's cheers only grew louder. Misty returned to the locker area for a ten-minute rest, where Austin was already waiting. A water bottle in hand.

"Amazing match, as always," he said, handing it over.

She took it gratefully, taking a long drink before sitting down, placing Wooper's Poké Ball onto the tray that would be sent to the Pokémon Center. As she exhaled, she glanced at him. "I heard the thief almost got caught."

Austin hummed, clearly lost in his own thoughts.

Misty raised an eyebrow. "What are you plotting now?"

A small pause.

"Misty," Austin said, his voice calm, serious. "Can you do something for me?"

"Of course. What is it?"

He met her gaze. "I need you to throw the next match."

Silence.

Misty stared at him, and Austin didn't flinch.

"…Okay." Misty took another sip of water, not breaking eye contact.

Austin exhaled, but he could still see the unspoken questions in her expression.

"I know that sounds crazy, but you remember how I said I had my own reasons for helping you become a Gym Leader?"

Misty nodded.

"Well," Austin continued, choosing his words carefully, "this… relates to that."

"Are you finally gonna clue me in?"

Austin took a deep breath. "I want to save a Pokémon from its trainer's abuse."

Misty stilled.

Austin leaned forward, voice lowering as he spun a web of half-truths—carefully weaving truth and lies into something that felt real. He told her about Damien. About how the rich brat mistreated his Charmander, how he abandoned it in the rain, and how this tournament was his one shot at exposing him. The key, Austin explained, was that Damien's father was powerful. If they simply reported the abuse, the rich bastard could bribe his way out.

But if they exposed him in a public tournament, where cameras were rolling, where he couldn't lie his way out…

Misty listened intently, her fists clenching on her knees.

Austin knew she was furious. Furious that a trainer could be so cruel. Furious that the rich could get away so easily.

"So, throwing the match is how we get to him?"

Austin nodded. "It's the only way to guarantee Damien makes it into the next round, and I have a plan that will make sure that Damien gets what he deserves."

"You should've just led with that."

Austin let out a relieved laugh.

She took another sip of water. "Alright. Let's teach this loser a lesson."

---

The moment Damien stepped onto the battlefield, Misty felt her stomach churn.

He looked exactly as Austin described. Arrogant. Entitled. A cocky sneer stretched across his face as he scanned Misty up and down, his eyes filled with the kind of disgusting confidence that made her want to punch him. He opened his mouth, and she immediately hated him more.

"What's with that look, bitch?" Damien scoffed, his lips curling into a mocking grin. "If you think playing hard to get is gonna make me interested, then think again."

Misty's grip tightened around her Poké Ball.

The disgust in her eyes must have been clear because Damien laughed. "You girls always think you're so high and mighty, huh?" he taunted. "Let's see if you're still talkin' after I crush you."

Misty's scowl deepened. She wanted to beat him. She wanted to destroy him. But she thought of Charmander. She thought of Austin's plan. She took a breath, forcing herself to relax.

The referee stepped in.

"Start the match, or forfeit."

Damien rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Let's get this over with."

Misty took a deep breath and threw her Poké Ball into the air.

"Magikarp, let's show them our power!"

With a flash of light, the orange fish Pokémon materialized in the muddy battlefield, flopping onto the damp surface. It blinked its vacant eyes and gave a small, seemingly harmless splash.

The crowd was excited to see their favorite in action.

Meanwhile, laughter—loud and mocking—came from Damien.

"PFFT—Are you serious?!" he barked, doubling over. "This has to be the biggest joke of a tournament I've ever seen! You expect me to take this seriously? A freaking Magikarp?"

The sneering behind him grew as his lackeys snickered, nudging each other.

Misty's blood boiled.

She gritted her teeth, holding back every urge to snap at him. She didn't need to. Because Damien's smugness evaporated the second he released his own Pokémon.

A Charmander.

A small, timid-looking lizard appeared on the battlefield, its bright orange scales gleaming under the stadium lights.

The moment its feet sank into the muddy terrain, its body tensed. Its claws sank deep into the ground, and it let out a soft, uneasy whimper. It wasn't used to this terrain. Misty saw it immediately. Damien didn't care.

"What are you freezing up for?!" Damien barked. "Use Ember! End this!"

Charmander flinched at the tone but took a deep breath, summoning small flickers of fire in its throat, and launched a series of small glowing embers toward Magikarp.

"Dragon Rage!"

Magikarp's body tensed as it released a ball of draconic energy that collided mid-air with the Ember attack. The sheer force of it dispersed the flames, pushing Charmander back slightly.

The battlefield fell silent.

Damien's face twisted in shock. "W-What the hell was that?!"

His arrogance cracked, and for the first time—there was fear.

"Stop being afraid, you useless lizard!" he snapped, voice laced with fury.

Charmander froze mid-step, its wide eyes snapping toward its trainer.

The small flicker of confidence it had—shattered. The fear in its expression wasn't because of Misty's Magikarp. It was because of Damien. And Magikarp saw it. Something snapped inside the fish Pokémon.

For days, Magikarp had been training, fighting, pushing itself under Misty's care. It had battled opponents, gained strength, and evolved in skill. But what it saw in Charmander struck a nerve. It saw itself. The disdain. The ridicule. The sheer lack of belief. The emotion that surged inside Magikarp was pure, burning fury. The light of evolution erupted.

The entire arena flooded in a pillar of brilliant, blinding white light.

The stadium fell dead silent as Magikarp's form expanded—its once small, fragile body stretching longer and longer, its scales darkening into a deep, rich blue. The ground trembled beneath it as the glow faded, revealing a Gyarados. A massive, draconic sea serpent loomed over the battlefield, its body coiled tightly, towering over the frozen Charmander.

The air itself seemed heavier.

Gyarados roared.

A thunderous, bone-rattling sound shook the entire gym.

The sheer force of its voice sent a gust of wind rippling across the stadium, blowing back loose dirt and even making some spectators flinch in their seats. Damien? He fell backward onto his ass. His face turned pale. His entire body trembled. A dark stain began spreading across his pants.

Austin, watching from the stands, grinned. "Oh wow." He muttered, nudging Pikachu. "Didn't even need Thunderbolt."

Pikachu snickered.

But while Damien quaked in terror—Charmander didn't.

Despite its fear, despite its trainer's verbal abuse, it stood its ground. It squared its tiny shoulders, claws digging into the damp ground as its eyes hardened. With a deep breath, it opened its mouth and released a thick, green beam of energy.

Dragon Breath.

The attack soared toward Gyarados, striking the massive serpent directly in the face.

Gasps rang out.

For a brief moment, Misty felt her heart lurch.

Gyarados—a newly evolved Pokémon—hadn't been tested yet. Most trainers struggled to control their Gyarados after evolution. Gyarados simply… stared. The attack did nothing. No rage. No wild thrashing.

Instead, Gyarados slowly turned its gaze to Misty and nodded. That was all the confirmation she needed. Gyarados wasn't a mindless beast. It was her Pokémon.

With exaggerated slowness, Gyarados let out a low, playful grumble and fell over. Flat onto the muddy pool. Pretending to be knocked out.

Silence. Utter, unfiltered disbelief.

Someone in the crowd finally murmured. "Did… Did Charmander just beat a Gyarados?"

Professor Oak, watching from the side, felt a single tear slide down his cheek. A Gyarados had evolved without losing control and it had been caught on live television. This—this was history. And yet, despite the scientific breakthrough, a single question nagged at his mind. Why had Misty thrown this match?

---

With Magikarp's evolution into Gyarados, Professor Oak and his research team should have had enough data to pack up and leave.

But they didn't.

The old man had insisted they stay longer, claiming they needed to observe Gyarados further.

Austin, however, knew better.

Professor Oak wasn't just here for the research anymore.

He wanted answers. No one said it aloud, but the question loomed over them like a storm cloud. Why had Misty and Gyarados thrown the match against Charmander?

It made no sense—Gyarados had evolved, it had the sheer power and presence to wipe the floor with Damien and his Charmander. And yet, it fell over, playing defeated when it wasn't even fazed.

Austin could already see the gears turning in the professor's mind.

And Oak wasn't an idiot.

Eventually, he would realize the truth. That Charmander was in the hands of an abuser.

Would he let it go? Would he do something?

Austin wasn't sure.

"Umbreon."

Vee's soft, smooth call pulled the boy's attention as he glanced down, finding the Moonlight Pokémon curled in his lap.

He scratched between Umbreon's ears, the sleek black fur warm and soft beneath his fingertips. The Pokémon let out a pleased hum, flicking its tail as Austin reached for his wine glass filled with grape juice.

Vee, sensing the movement, perked up.

With slow, deliberate movements, it leaned forward, dipping its muzzle into the rim of the glass. Its tongue flicked just beneath the surface, skimming the liquid before pulling back, savoring the taste.

"Told you you'd like it."

Vee simply huffed, licking its lips before tilting its head expectantly—waiting for another sip.

The moment, however, was cut short. A gust of wind swept through the room, carrying the faint sound of something floating.

Austin didn't flinch.

His eyes remained forward, watching as Green made her dramatic entrance through the open window, her Jigglypuff inflated like a balloon, keeping her suspended in the air. She landed lightly, giving an exaggerated stretch before placing a hand on her hip. "If you were going for the mafia boss look, you failed."

Austin exhaled through his nose, barely glancing at her. "I wasn't."

Green smirked. "Oh? Don't back down now, boss man—caught you red-handed."

She motioned lazily toward him.

A boy sitting in the dark, dressed in pajamas, a wine glass in one hand, and a dark-furred Pokémon curled in his lap. Classic boss aesthetic. Except… it was grape juice. And his sleepwear had little Poké Ball patterns on it.

"Okay, maybe you weren't going for the look."

Austin took a slow sip, then set the glass down. "Oh, I was."

Green let out a light giggle, but her expression shifted subtly. Her shoulders stiffened slightly because something felt… off. Her eyes flicked around the dimly lit room, scanning the shadows. She was good—her instincts told her this wasn't just a casual chat.

This was a set-up. And she wasn't wrong.

Austin clapped his hands.

Instantly, the lights flicked on. Green found herself surrounded. Pikachu sat perched nearby, eyes sharp, ready to strike. A Quick Claw dangled around Rattata's neck, the small rodent poised in a crouch, ready to intercept her at a moment's notice. On the far side, Horsea rested in a bowl of water, her tiny eyes focused like a sniper.

Green's heart skipped a beat. She was a trapped animal.

"Return."

The command was soft but immediate, and every Pokémon vanished into their Poké Balls.

Austin leaned forward, resting an elbow on the chair's armrest. "Let's start over," he said smoothly, gesturing toward the untouched glass. "Juice?"

Green crossed her arms, eyes still sharp. "I don't drink anything I haven't poured myself."

"Fair." Austin nodded. "I wouldn't either."

Green's lips tugged up slightly. "So, let's skip the pleasantries." She tilted her head. "What do you want?"

Austin reached into his jacket pocket and slid three photos across the table. Jessie. James. Meowth.

"I need you to investigate Team Rocket."

"Oh?"

"Find out why they're here. What they're planning. Who's the executive leading the operation."

Green picked up a photo, examining it.

Austin continued. "These three work here in the morning—use your disguises, sneak into the base as one of them, and get me the information I need."

Green remained silent, turning the photos slowly in her hands, yet her mind was on the guy in front of her.

A boy who was too young to act this old. Someone who looked like an idiot but knew too much. A kid who spoke like he had seen things most people never would. He knew about the Masked Man. And now, he was going after Team Rocket.

"Who are you?"

Austin paused, watching the shift in Green's posture.

The femme fatale of Pokémon was walking on eggshells around him. That alone was proof—she wasn't sure how to play this. And that was dangerous, because Green was the kind of person who needed to feel in control.

She didn't trust people. She didn't play by their rules.

And right now?

Austin had all the cards.

That needed to change. If he wanted Green as an ally—not just for this job, but for the future—he had to give her something. A way to feel like she was pulling the strings. So, he gave her a piece of the game.

"I'm… Bag Boy."

Green nodded once.

"You don't know who that is," Austin stated flatly, watching her.

Green kept nodding. Faster now.

"Vee."

At the name, his Umbreon—who had been lounging lazily in his lap—gave him a look. A very pointed, annoyed look—one that all but screamed, Do we really have to do this?

Austin's stare didn't waver. With a dramatic huff, Vee leapt down from Austin's lap, landing on the floor with graceful ease. His body shimmered. Dark fur glowed, shifting colors in an instant. The sleek, black-coated Umbreon melted away, morphing into a familiar cream-colored Eevee.

Green's eyes widened slightly.

Another glow. A rush of heat. And then—standing before her wasn't an Eevee anymore. It was a Flareon. Flames flickered around Vee's crimson fur, his thick tail swishing with practiced indifference. The smug little bastard even let out a small puff of fire, just to make a point.

"Holy—"

Austin leaned back, casually swirling his grape juice. "You asked who I was, Green," he said smoothly. "Let's just say… I'm someone you need to keep close."

---

The next morning, deep within the Articuno Base, Sabrina was seething. Not just annoyed. Not just irritated. She was royally pissed. Her fingers tapped against the armrest of her chair—sharp, rhythmic, each movement precise and calculated. Just like her. Her subordinates—her direct subordinates—were a trio of utter idiots.

Not only had they been acting outside the base's jurisdiction, but they had wasted organization resources on personal nonsense.

A security camera system.

Not for the base. Not for surveillance of League threats. Not for anything remotely useful but for whatever ridiculous, harebrained scheme they had gotten themselves involved in this time.

Sabrina's jaw clenched.

Did these three even know how much that cost? This was an active mission. A serious one. And instead of preparing, instead of following orders, they were wasting funds, playing pretend, and embarrassing the organization.

Worse…

If word of this reached the boss… Sabrina exhaled slowly, forcing down the irritation.

No.

She would handle this personally. She had no interest in getting reprimanded for their incompetence.

The moment Sabrina stepped onto Cerulean Gym's grounds, she felt it. The weight of a thousand thoughts slamming into her mind all at once.

It was always like this.

Voices. Whispers. Some loud, some faint, all pressing against the edges of her consciousness. A never-ending stream of human noise. She had long since trained herself to filter them out, to let them wash over her like waves against a shore. But sometimes—sometimes—they slipped through.

And today was one of those days.

Her head tilted slightly as she instinctively honed in on the loudest thoughts. They're so elegant. So stunning. Like real-life mermaids.

Sabrina's lip curled. Pathetic.

Her purple eyes flickered toward the source of the adoration. The Cerulean Sisters. They moved in perfect synchronization. Their routine? Flawless. Their expressions? Effortless.

She tried—tried—to block it out.

But the emotion behind their thoughts clung to her like static.

She's gorgeous. They're perfect. I wish I could be like them.

Sabrina's jaw tightened. She had heard adoration before. But never for her. People didn't admire her. They didn't look at her like that. They only ever saw a monster. A freak. A psychic.

"Your strength makes you more beautiful than anyone." Giovanni's words whispered in the back of her mind.

But they rang hollow. Because beauty wasn't measured in power. Not to them. She could crush every single person here with a thought, yet none of them would look at her the way they looked at those sisters. Her fingers curled into her palm. She exhaled slowly, pushing it away.

This is irrelevant.

She turned from the performance, disinterested. Let the weak be enamored by trivial things. She had a job to do. Her mind reached outward, her psychic abilities locking onto their signatures. She pinpointed their location instantly and froze.

"…How is that possible?"

Her head snapped toward the back area of the gym, where the trio's auras sat—next to another one that felt wrong.

Sabrina moved without hesitation, stepping into the back area of the gym. She barely had to open the door.

The moment she entered, the entire atmosphere shifted. Conversations halted. Tension thickened. Every muscle in the room went rigid. Jessie, James, and Meowth shot up from their seats.

"E-Executive Sabrina!"

Meanwhile, Austin simply stared.

His expression was unreadable, but there was a sharpness behind his eyes. Like he was already calculating. Already adjusting. Already preparing for something.

Sabrina's gaze locked onto him and she felt it. That wrongness. It was him. His aura was… damaged. Not weak. Not fragile. But torn. Like someone had ripped through it, stitched it back haphazardly, and then tore through it again.

She had seen many things in her time as a psychic. But she had never seen this. Her fingers twitched. Her eyes glowed faintly, psychic energy swelling as she reached outward. Probing. Trying to see. To understand. To find out what the hell had happened to this kid.

Austin knew immediately when Sabrina tried to invade his mind.

Her eyes glowed, the color intensifying as an unnatural pressure pressed against his thoughts. It was subtle—like a thread being carefully woven through the fabric of his brain. She's trying to read me.

Austin's expression remained neutral, but internally, he sighed. He had expected this. He had prepared for this. Because for all the mystique surrounding psychics and mind-reading, he knew the truth.

It was all surface level.

Even Psychic-type Pokémon couldn't sift through the thousands of neural connections firing per second inside a healthy human brain. There was simply too much noise. Too much information flooding in from the conscious and subconscious mind.

So what did that mean?

It meant Sabrina wasn't reading his deepest secrets. She was only getting what was at the forefront of his thoughts. And Austin had full control of what sat there. So, like any rational person he weaponized it.

Austin didn't start off strong. Oh no, this was psychological warfare. And he was going to ease Sabrina into the horrors of a teenage boy's mind like a frog slowly boiling in water. So, he began with something harmless.

In his mind's eye, he dropped to one knee, holding out a ring. "Sabrina," his mental projection whispered, voice trembling with emotion. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

The real Sabrina froze.

Austin barely held back a smirk. Oh, this was gonna be good.

Sabrina forced herself past the distraction. Cute, she thought. Pathetic, but cute.

Austin, taking this as a direct challenge, cranked things up a notch. Suddenly, in his mind, Sabrina was standing on a beach. Wearing a bikini. The real Sabrina's eyebrows twitched. A faint dusting of red touched her pale cheeks. But she pushed deeper into his thoughts, determined to break his concentration.

Austin's grin widened. Oh, she wants to fight dirty? Well, alright then. He pictured her slowly untying her top.

has stopped working.

The psychic gasped sharply, her entire body stiffening as if someone had just poured cold water down her spine. But Austin wasn't done. Oh no, he was only getting started. Now, in the safety of his own mind, he imagined grabbing her by the waist, yanking her in close, his lips trailing down her neck as he...

Sabrina's entire brain crashed.

A full-body spasm. A nosebleed worthy of an anime protagonist. Her legs wobbled, her breath caught in her throat, and her once stoic and unreadable expression had dissolved into pure, unfiltered embarrassment.

Austin barely held back his laugh.

Across the room, Team Rocket was watching this trainwreck unfold in absolute awe.

James blinked slowly, eyes flicking between Austin and the retreating form of Sabrina. He then turned to Jessie, voice low and serious. "…What is happening?"

"Well, the executive came in, looked at the boss, and blushed."

A long silence stretched between them.

Meowth's ears twitched as he finally broke it. "…Oh, she's totally in love."

Pikachu, meanwhile, continued munching on his cracker, slowly dipping it into a puddle of ketchup, as if he were watching the most entertaining soap opera of his life.

Sabrina, breathing heavily, forced herself to regain her composure. She snapped her head toward the Team Rocket trio. "You. My office. One hour."

Jessie, James, and Meowth visibly gulped.

Austin, still feeling reckless as hell, took a casual step forward. Sabrina immediately took a step back. Her eyes darted to the side, suddenly very interested in the wallpaper. "I hired them for work," he said smoothly. "And I pay them good money. Maybe you should consider that before dragging them away."

Sabrina whipped back around, her glare sharp—but still flustered as hell.

"…Fine," she muttered. "I'll see them after they're done."

She turned, storming toward the exit, clearly desperate to escape. But right before she reached the doorway—she hesitated. Then, slowly, she glanced over her shoulder.

"…How old are you?"

"Ten."

Sabrina, against her better judgment, took one last peek into his what she saw… The girl clenched her jaw, snapped her eyes shut, and gritted out one final command.

"Find. God."

Then, with a dramatic flick of her cape, she stormed out. The moment the door slammed shut, Austin finally let out the wicked laugh he had been , sighing contentedly, finished his cracker.

"Pika."

James turned to Jessie. "…Does this mean the boss is dating Executive Sabrina now?"

Jessie shrugged. "I mean, she's already at the 'pretending she doesn't like him' phase. They'll be making out by next Tuesday."

Meowth, shaking his head, let out a long sigh. "Da boss got game, I tell ya."

Austin just sweatdropped at the trio's words, his gaze drifting toward the door Sabrina had just slammed shut.

He sighed. This was getting out of hand. I just hope I don't have to deal with the Gym Leader Triad… That alone would be a pain, but the thought of the Elite Four terrorists?

Austin immediately shoved that thought deep into the abyss of his mind. Nope. Not even gonna think about that. That was just jinxing it. Still, at the very least, he hoped Green would figure out what Team Rocket was planning in Cerulean before everything went to hell. Because if there was one thing Austin knew it was that things were never this easy.

---

Sabrina stormed down the sidewalk, her steps clipped, her expression a carefully maintained mask of neutrality.

But inside her mind was an absolute battlefield.

What she had seen in that brat's thoughts…

It was extremely perverted. And the worst part? It was about her. Her. Of all people.

Not the elegant Cerulean Sisters. Not some pretty idol. Not even some other trainer he admired.

Her.

Her, with her cold gaze and unnerving presence. Her—a freak. A psychic to be feared and avoided. Not once in her life had anyone looked at her with attraction. Not once had she been desired.

And yet, that boy…

Sabrina's hands clenched into fists. Her psychic energy flared without her meaning to, causing a nearby streetlight to flicker violently. Her breath was shaky. Not out of anger. Not out of disgust.

But because she didn't know how to process it. And she hated that. Why… Why did that little bastard, of all people, have to be the first to think of her that way?!

And why… why did it not bother her?

"Executive Sabrina, you're back." One of the guards outside the Articuno Base saluted her, barely looking up from his security post.

She exhaled, forcing her mind back into professionalism. "Report."

"Your subordinate returned," the guard said.

Sabrina frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Jessie, I think her name was. She came back right after you left."

Sabrina's expression blanked.

Impossible. She had just seen Jessie, James, and Meowth at the tournament with that boy. Her gut twisted. Something was wrong. "Where is she now?"

"Inside the base, working," the guard answered.

Sabrina said nothing. Her instincts were never wrong. And right now? They were screaming at her. She turned on her heel and marched into the base.

---

Deep within the Articuno Base...Green moved effortlessly through the shadows. She had played her part well—disguised as Jessie, blending in with Team Rocket's grunts, charming her way into casual conversations to extract valuable intel.

And now?

She had everything she needed. A sleek USB drive sat in her palm, filled with sensitive Rocket data. Plans, research logs, classified orders—even enough dirt to make a killing on the black smirk widened behind her stolen Team Rocket mask. Too easy. The communication room was littered with unconscious guards, tied up neatly in the corner. She had knocked them out one by one, making sure to erase the security footage.

Now all that's left is to—

BOOM.

The metal doors exploded off their hinges. Dust and smoke billowed outward, the sheer force rattling the walls. Green's heart leapt into her throat. Through the clearing haze, a figure emerged. Tall. Composed. Eyes glowing with unrestrained fury.

Sabrina.

And beside her, standing like an executioner awaiting the order, was her Kadabra. Green didn't need psychic powers to know that she was in deep shit.

"Well, well, well." Sabrina's voice was like a predator enjoying the hunt. "Looks like we had a Rattata sneaking around."

Green straightened, masking her nerves with a perfectly practiced expression of innocence. "B-Boss?" She gasped, putting on her best 'damsel in distress' act. "Is… is something wrong? You look… stressed. Maybe a spa day would help?"

Sabrina's eye twitched. Green kept going. "Or a face mask? You know, they say hydration works wonders for—"

"Don't bother." Sabrina's voice dropped an octave, her aura pressing down on the room like a stormfront. Her next words were absolute. "Your mind has already given you away."

Kadabra's spoon slashed through the air, sending a razor-sharp Psycho Cut straight for her.

"Ditty!"

Her Ditto reacted instantly, morphing into Kadabra and raising a Reflect barrier. A green wall of light materialized, absorbing the brunt of the attack. But the shockwave still sent Green skidding backward.

She cursed under her breath. This was bad. She needed an escape. Fast. Her hand flew to her Pokéball belt, releasing her Abra.

"Teleport!"

Nothing happened.

"H-Huh?"

Sabrina let out a mocking sigh, shaking her head. "Pfft. Don't tell me that was your grand escape plan? A simple Teleport?" Her eyes glowed brighter, her power thrumming through the air. "You're seriously underestimating me."

Green clenched her fists. She wasn't just underestimating Sabrina—she had completely miscalculated.

Shit.

"You really think I wouldn't have countermeasures for Psychic-types?" Sabrina tilted her head, as if talking to a child. "Psychic abilities don't come from within, you know." Her gloved fingers traced a slow circle in the air, her voice laced with condescension. "They're drawn from the Dream Realm. A frequency."

She flicked her fingers outward and Green felt it. A pulse of energy—a disruptor wave—like a static shock that sent a ripple through the room. Abra whined, body stiffening as its abilities cut out completely.

Green gritted her teeth.

"You jammed psychic frequencies?"

"Ding, ding."

"…That's kinda hot. Can you teach me?"

Sabrina stumbled slightly, caught off guard. She coughed, regaining her composure. "Why don't you try using your pretty little head for once?" "Why would I?" Green scoffed. "When I can use my smoking hot body instead?"

And with that she struck a pose. One hand on her hip, the other playfully brushing through her hair. A sultry smirk. Her chest pushed forward—very intentionally. She even added a slow, dramatic bounce, just for effect.

Sabrina's eye twitched again.

"Oh?" Green mused, voice turning mockingly sweet.

She deliberately glanced down at herself, then back up at Sabrina. Then down. Then up. A slow, wicked smirk stretched across Green's face.

"Cheap shot... Hmph."

But Green could see it. That tiny spark of frustration in Sabrina's otherwise stoic face. That little twitch in her expression. That tiny, almost imperceptible flicker of jealousy. Green couldn't resist twisting the knife.

"Aww… Are you jealous, sweetheart?"

And that was the last straw. Sabrina SNAPPED. With a flick of her wrist, she launched Green backward, slamming her into the wall.

"You. Bitch."

Green coughed, but still grinned. "Aw, don't be mad just 'cause no boys wanna give you attention, freak!"

Sabrina saw red and in her anger, her powers weakened—just as Green's chest suddenly deflated. A bunch of Poké Balls tumbled to the floor.

"…Did you seriously tape Poké Balls to your chest?"

"Gotcha."

The two Poké Balls burst open. A Jigglypuff and a Clefairy emerged, both immediately using Sing and Disarming Voice. The high-pitched soundwaves hit full force, breaking Sabrina's fragile focus just long enough.

Green hit the ground running.

"Tear gas, Ditty!"

Ditto-Kadabra released a smoke bomb, flooding the room with thick white gas.

Kadabra tried to counter but it was too late. Green's Abra clung to her arm as they vanished in a flash of light.

---

Sabrina let out a frustrated yell and launched a chair across the room.

CRASH.

It splintered against the wall, leaving a very impressive dent.

But it didn't help. Not even a little. Her entire body was practically vibrating with frustration. Her mind kept looping back to the fight.

Not the actual battle, of course.

No.

It was Green's words that dug into her skull like a damn parasite. "Aw, don't be mad just 'cause no boys wanna give you attention, freak!"

Sabrina gritted her hated how true those words were. Because—ugh—she was a freak. People didn't look at her the way they looked at other girls.

They looked at her with fear.

Caution. Respect, sure—but never affection. Which was fine. She didn't need affection. She had power.

…Right?

But then, a terrible realization hit her. Wait a was a boy who had given her attention. A boy who hadn't looked at her with fear. A boy who had boldly stood in her presence—held eye contact, challenged her and then proceeded to mentally project an entire lewd fanfiction in real-time.

Sabrina froze. Her face slowly turned red.

Oh no.

No.

NO.

She refused to let this be her reality. Her first real, genuine male attention and it was from a ten-year-old pervert. Sabrina's eye twitched violently. Her entire face burned.

"…I hate my life."

She buried her head in her hands, groaning. Kadabra, standing nearby, just patted her on the shoulder.

There, there.

---

[Author's Note:]

Well, that was a wild chapter, wasn't it? Hope you all enjoyed the chaos!

Also, fun fact—Green using Poké Balls as fake assets is actually straight from Pokémon Adventures (Chapter 32, for those curious). Since she pulled that trick on Team Rocket's Sabrina, I figured it'd be a fun little reference to work into this version of their encounter.

Now, I wanted to get your thoughts on something:

What do you guys think of Sabrina's characterization so far?

And more importantly… how do you feel about expanding on this weird, accidental dynamic between her and Austin?

Right now, Sabrina thinks Austin is into her, which—let's be real—would be hilarious, especially since she has such low self-esteem and sees herself as a "freak" no one could possibly love.

So, I'm floating the idea of actually developing this into a relationship—but only if I take the time to build it properly. No "Sabrina and Austin end up together just because I say so." If I go this route, I want it to have real growth, conflict, and chemistry.

Let me know what you think!

Would you be interested in seeing this dynamic play out?

Or do you think Austin has enough problems already? (Because, let's be honest… he does.)

Looking forward to hearing your thoughts! (If you're eager to read ahead, you can check out early chapters over on Patreon!)


Let me know what you thought of this chapter—your feedback keeps me going and inspires new ideas. Thank you all for being part of this journey! You've been amazing readers, and I'm so grateful for your support.

Until next time,
—Adamo Ame8

 

[DannyPhantom619]

Sabrina is hot. Especially her later look with the white pants.

 

[Lillie Jones]

Thanks for the chapter

 

[LordMentat]

Sabrina got a face blast of the average QQ user.

 

[Petrox]

NSFW Sabrina fanfiction? She wouldn't want a Gardevoir if she went deeper. She would need to release any Hypno that she had with the trauma

 

[Adamos_Amet]

Green scrolled through the stolen Team Rocket files, her expression unreadable as lines of data scrolled past. The encrypted files weren't just mission reports, they were blueprints for something big.

Something dangerous.

Austin sat beside her, eyes scanning the dense layers of information, packed with coded transmissions, personnel movements, and operational schedules. It was a mess of logistical jargon, but amidst all the noise, one name kept showing up.

Ariana.

Austin's grip on the desk tightened. That was it. Team Rocket wasn't in Cerulean City for recruitment, smuggling, or even the usual back-alley dealings.

They were here for her.

With Ariana's high ranking, she had been processed through Pewter City Detention Center, awaiting transport to Indigo Penitentiary, Kanto's most secure prison, built to hold high-profile criminals too dangerous to be kept anywhere else.

Escape from Indigo? Impossible.

Escape before getting there? Much easier.

Austin read through the attached operational report, his stomach sinking.

The transport schedule was airtight: April 1st: Ariana would be moved from Pewter City Detention Center at 0700 hours. The convoy would take Route 4, cutting through Mt. Moon Tunnel for additional security. Upon exiting near Cerulean Outskirts, the transport would continue north along Route 10, through Rock Tunnel—a long, winding path notorious for its low visibility and isolation.

Finally, they'd reach Lavender Town, where a second team would transfer her to a League-secured vessel bound for Indigo Penitentiary.

A small footnote at the end of the report stood out: Expected civilian interference: Minimal. Threat of League involvement: Low.

Austin exhaled sharply. They knew everything. The exact route. The security detail. The personnel in charge.

Team Rocket had inside men. His mind raced. Why Rock Tunnel? It made sense from a security standpoint—fewer civilians, natural barriers preventing outside interference, only one clear entrance and exit.

"A collapse."

Austin glanced up as Green tapped the screen, highlighting key points along the tunnel route.

"This is where they'll do it," she murmured. Her finger traced two specific locations on the map. "A controlled detonation here..." She moved slightly forward. "And here."

A slow realization crept up Austin's spine. "If they blow these supports, the tunnel comes down."

"Yup," Green confirmed. "And not just a partial collapse either—a full cave-in, under thirty seconds." She leaned back, arms crossed. "Fast enough for a psychic to teleport in, grab Ariana, and blink out before anyone even realizes what's happening."

Austin's jaw clenched.

The transport team would be trapped. Buried. Kanto would scramble, believing it to be a tragic accident, diverting attention to rescue operations. Meanwhile, Ariana would already be gone. No direct assaults. No unnecessary casualties. A clean, precise operation.

Austin exhaled slowly, his mind racing. The plan was airtight—calculated, efficient. But why now?

Ariana wasn't just another grunt, but she wasn't exactly irreplaceable either. Giovanni wasn't the type to gamble big on sentiment. He preferred to operate from the shadows, keeping Team Rocket's true strength hidden.

But this?

This was reckless. This was high-risk for minimal gain. It didn't add up unless this wasn't about Ariana at all. Unless this was about sending a message. Austin's thoughts darkened as he landed on the only explanation that made sense.

Mewtwo.

Had Giovanni already created it? The timelines were messy.

In the anime, Mewtwo was fully developed, controlled by advanced technology. In the manga, Mewtwo was unstable, needing Blaine's DNA to stabilize its power.

Which one was it?

Austin didn't know. If Team Rocket was already making moves this big, it meant they were confident. It meant something had changed. And he had a sinking feeling that Mewtwo was at the center of it.

"So," Green drawled, "what's the plan, superhero?"

"...What?"

"You heard me," she said, smirking. "You're gonna stop it, right?"

Austin didn't answer. Green raised an eyebrow. "Or are you just gonna let it happen?"

Austin exhaled slowly. The logical thing to do was walk away. This was way bigger than him. Stopping a high-level Rocket operation—especially if they had Mewtwo—was suicidal. But putting your head down was going to lead to an even bigger problem later on.

Austin's eyes darkened.

Green noticed the shift. Her smirk faltered. "Wait, you're actually thinking about it?" Austin stayed silent because in his heart he already knew. He couldn't ignore this. But the real question was... Could he afford to get involved?

---

The communication room was dark, illuminated only by the glow of monitors lining the walls. Executives of Team Rocket appeared on screen, their figures shadowed by poor lighting; Proton, Archer, Petrel, and, of course, the Boss himself, Giovanni.

At the center of it all stood Sabrina, silent and unreadable, her arms folded as she listened to the debriefing.

Proton was already running his mouth. "How the hell did you let a kid infiltrate the base and steal classified intel?!"

Sabrina turned to him, eyes cold. "Oh, you got me," she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Next time, I'll personally invite the thief in, offer her tea, and hand-deliver the documents myself. Would that make you feel better?"

"You..."

"Enough," Archer cut in.

Petrel chuckled, arms behind his head. "Relax, Proton. If you were gettin' robbed by the Thousand-Faced Girl, I'd bet you woulda performed worse."

"You know the thief?"

Petrel gave a lazy shrug. "Yeah, she's made quite the name for herself in Kanto. Always buying up information, always looking for something. I even offered her a spot in Team Rocket once."

That caught everyone's attention.

"You offered her a position?" Proton asked, incredulous.

"Hey, when I see talent, I know it," Petrel said smoothly. "She turned me down, though. Said she doesn't work under anyone."

"Hmph." Archer leaned back. "Then this wasn't an attack. This was a job."

"And we were just in her way," Proton muttered.

The room fell into silence, the only sound the soft purring of Persian from Giovanni's screen. Then, finally, the Boss spoke.

"Sabrina," Giovanni's voice was calm, commanding, absolute. "Anything of value from the thief's mind?"

Sabrina hesitated. "...It's complicated."

A long pause.

"Elaborate."

Sabrina exhaled. "Her mind was... protected." She frowned, recalling the sensation. "Something was there—a dark presence, parasitic. Not a normal psychic barrier. I've never encountered anything like it."

Silence.

Persian's tail flicked. Giovanni leaned back, fingers steepled under his chin. "Petrel," he said smoothly. "Track her down. Ensure she doesn't sell what she stole."

"You got it, Boss."

"With the possibility that this 'accident' may result in complications, I want captains from each division sent to assist Sabrina in the retrieval mission."

"Understood." Archer nodded.

"On it," Proton muttered.

"I'll see which one of my guys I can spare," Petrel added casually.

One by one, the screens flickered off, leaving only Giovanni and Sabrina.

The boss studied her for a long moment.

"You were distracted during the meeting," he observed.

Sabrina flinched internally. "...Apologies, Boss," she said smoothly. "I've just seen... too many strange things lately."

"Hmph." Giovanni's fingers tapped against the desk. "Take a few days off," he commanded. "Get your mind in the right headspace."

A pause.

Then, before she could stop herself, the words slipped out.

"...Maybe I should go on a date."

The air in the room froze.

Sabrina immediately regretted it. She wasn't sure why she said it. She wasn't even sure what she meant. But there it was. Hanging. Waiting. She stared at Giovanni, expecting disapproval. Instead Giovanni smiled but it wasn't a pleasant smile. It was a knowing one. A calculating one. A Persian watching a Rattata walk willingly into a trap. "If it helps you succeed in your mission," he said smoothly, "then by all means..." He tilted his head, voice dark with amusement. "Go on a date."

Sabrina didn't know why, but the way he said it made her feel like she had just made a deal she didn't understand.

She swallowed hard, nodding once. "Understood, Boss."

The screen flickered off.

Meanwhile... Giovanni leaned back in his chair, stroking Persian's fur, eyes narrowed in thought. His executives were soldiers, powerful in their own ways—but loyalty only went so far.

But this?

This was something different. Sabrina was strong. One of his best.

But now?

Now, she was interested in something. Or rather, someone. A small smirk curled at the corner of his lips. Perfect. A strong soldier was valuable. But a strong soldier with emotional ties? That was something far more useful.

"Power alone is never enough, Sabrina," Giovanni mused, his voice barely above a whisper. "You need more than just loyalty..." His eyes darkened. "You need something to lose."

---

The lights dimmed slightly, a soft blue wash gliding over the stage like moonlight over water. From the center platform, a spotlight hit Daisy as she strutted forward, sequins shimmering across her aquamarine outfit, her heels clicking with practiced poise.

The audience roared.

Not clapped—roared. Daisy paused, letting the sound wash over her, eyes glistening. For a moment, she stood there, taking it all in. This… this was what they'd worked for. The lights, the stage, the eyes of Kanto watching. She was shaking but not from fear. From pride. Raising the mic to her lips, her voice rang out like a bell.

"Cerulean City!"

The crowd erupted louder. She had to pause, laughing into the mic as the volume peaked.

"Okay, okay, enough! I know I'm stunning, but let's not make it too obvious!"

Laughter followed. Then quiet.

Daisy smiled again, softer now. "We just want to say thank you for watching, for cheering, and for believing in us. Over the last week, our shows have gained media attention across Kanto. And thanks to all of you... we, the Cerulean Sisters, have received official offers from the Pokémon League."

More cheers. Even a few gasps.

Daisy held her hand up to quiet them. Her voice dropped to something reverent.

"This isn't just about us. It's not just about shows, or beauty, or even battles. It's about Cerulean City. This is the first step into a new future for Kanto—one where performance and strength blend together. Where creativity has a place beside power."

She turned slightly, scanning the crowd, every person watching her like she was royalty.

"This is the accomplishment of Cerulean."

They roared. She felt like a queen, standing there in that sea of admiration. She brought the mic up again, eyes gleaming.

"But," she said, "that's not all for tonight's announcement."

The crowd hushed instantly.

"We know this past week has been a feast of battles. Our pride and joy, Misty, the fiercest little sister in all of Kanto, has stunned us all with her strength and heart. Trainers from all over have come to challenge her. But like the waters of Cerulean, her defenses are calm, strong, and deeper than they appear."

A pause, then: "But due to the overwhelming number of challengers... we're changing things up!"

Drums sounded from the stage lighting system.

"Starting today, we are introducing a double battle format for Misty's challenges! That's right, two trainers will now take her on at once! And if they win, both of them advance to the next stage of the tournament."

Another burst of applause, surprise, and energy ran through the gym.

"So, trainers," Daisy said, voice gleaming with drama. "Get your partners ready. Because the water's rising."

The spotlight dimmed briefly. Then flared back to full intensity.

"Now then... let's get this party started!"

The crowd detonated with excitement, their cheers shaking the rafters.

---

Meanwhile...

Austin sat at his booth near the entrance, propping his chin on his palm while calmly sipping on a soda like he hadn't just orchestrated this entire spectacle from the shadows.

He watched as the crowd lost its collective mind and Daisy basked in glory like a natural-born star. That should keep League eyes locked here, he thought. And if Misty racks up enough wins... The League would send an Elite Four member to test her.

Which meant he wouldn't have to personally stop Team Rocket from breaking out Arianna.

Delegation, he thought with a small smirk. It's a lost art.

That was the whole point of rushing the tournament and helping Misty push through the requirements. Get her gym status locked. Let the League take over when it got messy. That's what Elite Four members were for, after all.

He leaned back as murmurs rose near the door. Curious, he followed Pikachu's alert eyes just in time to spot Jessie and Sabrina, barely concealed in the shadows near the entrance.

"He's got a Dark-type with him," Sabrina hissed to Jessie.

Jessie blinked. "And?"

"That matters," Sabrina snapped, narrowing her eyes as her gaze flicked toward the Umbreon curled smugly around Austin's shoulders like some kind of oversized fur stole. Vee blinked lazily, lifted a paw, and licked it with deliberate sass.

Pikachu, on the table, growled. Pika...

Jealous. Definitely jealous.

Sabrina shifted uncomfortably, the pressure of Umbreon's anti-psychic presence making her tense.

"I think he didn't see us," Jessie whispered hopefully.

Austin didn't move, but scratched Pikachu behind the ear before glancing toward the two Rocket agents without turning his head.

The doors burst open with a dramatic swing, nearly knocking over a stack of tournament brochures.

"Uh… hi?"

"...The wind carries many rumors."

Austin paused. "Okay?"

"Rumors… about quiet boys with sharp tongues," she added, narrowing her eyes. "And strong Umbreons."

Austin glanced at Vee, who was currently trying to knock Pikachu's ketchup packet off the desk. "Right..."

"I've decided," Sabrina said, in a tone like she was selecting a new piece of furniture, "that you... may possess utility."

"I—what?"

"I mean, not usefulness in the cold sense, but… well-rounded compatibility." Her voice caught on the last word like she was trying to say something sentimental and forgot how emotions worked halfway through.

"Wait… what are you even—?"

"Hypothetically," she said, holding up one gloved finger. "If a certain high-ranking person were interested in, say… recreational activities… with a civilian... in a controlled setting..."

"Recreational..."

"Like… a location with... air conditioning. Food. Maybe… video games."

"...Are you asking me to hang out at the arcade?"

"I would not... object to the term 'arcade.'"

Austin blinked once. Twice. "Are you asking me out?"

Sabrina visibly glitched.

"NO," she barked. "I mean—YES. I mean—FORGET WHAT I SAID. I have... matters to attend to."

She spun on her heel like she was executing a retreat maneuver, then bonked her head directly against the pillar next to the door. She hissed, tried to pretend it didn't happen, and briskly stormed outside.

"...What the hell just happened," Austin muttered under his breath.

He looked around. Jessie was now pretending to dust a decorative plant.

"You said you were helping out a sick friend," Austin said flatly.

Jessie grinned nervously. "Would you believe me if I said the friend was love sick?"

Austin's deadpan look didn't change.

"Alright, alright, she came to me this morning," Jessie admitted, pulling him to the side. "Said she wanted to go on a date with you. Me being the charitable and fantastic employee I am—"

"Jessie."

"I figured if I helped her out, maybe I could get promoted! Or at least not turned into a Kadabra pretzel the next time I spill coffee in her boots."

Austin stood in silence, his thoughts chasing themselves in circles.

Sabrina liked him.

Let's just sit with that for a second.

Sabrina.

Psychic. Arrogant. Terrifying. Definitely a criminal. Liked. Him.

That sentence alone made his brain glitch like a Porygon on dial-up internet.

The how was a mystery. Their first interaction had involved him mentally bombarding her with increasingly absurd and deeply inappropriate fantasies to keep her from reading his mind. That should've been an automatic disqualification from the dating pool.

And yet…

She still said yes.

Which, objectively, should be a red flag the size of the Indigo Plateau. But there was something about the way she left. Flustered. Fidgety. Very much not in control.

She wasn't manipulating. She wasn't threatening. She was awkward. And somehow that was worse because it meant she was being genuine, and that made her dangerous in a whole new, utterly confusing, emotionally compromised kind of way.

Still, maybe he could use this. Learn something. Get intel. Make a connection. Spy on Team Rocket from the inside.

He found her on a bench just outside the Cerulean Gym courtyard—curled forward, elbows on knees, face buried in her hands like she'd just flunked out of prom.

Austin approached quietly and sat next to her, keeping just enough distance to show he wasn't about to make this weirder than it already was.

"You know," he started, voice casual, "we've had some… really interesting first impressions."

She didn't move.

"But I don't think we've actually introduced ourselves."

Still no answer.

"My name's Ash," he added, "but my friends call me Austin. You can call me that if you want to."

A pause, then, muffled: "I'm not your friend."

"Would you like to be?"

That made her glance up. Just barely. Her expression was hard to read. But her lips twitched like she was debating the answer with a council of inner demons.

Then she nodded. "Yes."

"Cool," he said with a shrug. "Then I'll see you at the arcade tomorrow."

She blinked, clearly not expecting that.

Her blush was so faint you might miss it, but it was there. A rare bloom of red on a face more used to resting murder-glare.

"…Yeah," she murmured.

---

That night, Austin sat at the dinner table—his thoughts spinning like a slow, chaotic pinwheel.

He felt weird.

His chest felt light. His stomach fluttered like a freshly hatched Butterfree. And his brain kept replaying that moment—the way Sabrina looked up at him when he said she could call him Austin. Was this excitement? Was this what it felt like when you maybe had a date? His past life hadn't exactly been a romance anime. More like a background NPC in a dating sim. So the idea of someone actually liking him—even a terrifying mind-reading ice queen—was… kinda nice?

Was that romantic? Or just deeply concerning?

He wasn't sure.

"What are you giggling about?"

Austin snapped upright like someone had hit his mental reset button. "N-Nothing."

He cleared his throat, trying not to look suspicious. "So! Uh, how were the double battles today?"

Misty's eyes lingered on him a second longer than necessary, but she finally let it go. "Your plan worked. Perfectly."

Good. That meant the Moxie Loop was still running. Gyarados would KO the weaker partner's Pokémon first, get a Moxie boost, then steamroll the opponents in a glorious flex of power. Clean. Effective. League-approved.

"I think just a few more days and we'll have enough wins to start Round 2," Misty added, cheeks a little pink.

Daisy, Violet, and Lily leaned in, sharing conspiratorial grins.

Austin narrowed his eyes. "What's with the faces? Do you have something planned?"

"Nope. You wouldn't get it." Lily grinned. "It's a girl thing."

He raised an eyebrow but let it slide. Then—bzzz. The burner phone. One new message from Green. Come up to the room, I'm waiting.

"Alright," he said, stretching dramatically. "Time to turn in. Busy day tomorrow."

"You're way too busy for a ten-year-old," Violet said.

"I'm just dreading the day I have to start doing taxes," he muttered, slipping away.

As he walked toward the exit, he didn't notice the way the girls exchanged more glances. The whispers. The scheming.

Because while Austin was planning for tomorrow… They were planning something else entirely.

---

Sabrina hated dresses.

No, she feared them. They made her feel exposed. Not physically, but emotionally. Vulnerable. Like wearing one meant she was pretending to be someone she wasn't. Or worse, admitting she wanted to be.

But this morning, Jessie had practically dragged her into a changing room with a pile of pastels and ruffles and said, "You want to impress the boy or not?"

So here she was. In a soft lavender sundress with white ribbon straps and the faintest shimmer at the hem. Her long hair, usually swept to the side or tangled with aura-induced static, had been carefully brushed and tied back with a pale blue ribbon. She even wore lip gloss.

She hated how much she liked it.

And when Austin saw her and said, "Hey there, Sabrina, you look amazing,"

…she nearly shut down.

"Thank you," she replied, defaulting to neutral. "I got Jessie to help me be normal."

"Guess I'm not the normal one between us, eh?" Austin said with a chuckle, patting the sleepy Umbreon strapped to his chest in a baby carrier like a very proud, very weird parent.

She stared at the Pokémon, and her stomach tightened. The presence of a Dark-type—especially one so close—felt like nails on a chalkboard to her aura. Everything about it disrupted her psychic flow. Even now, she could feel a light pulsing in the base of her skull. Still, she tried to raise a hand and pet it.

She flinched.

Austin caught it instantly. "Something wrong?"

Sabrina hesitated. Her pride bristled at the idea of being seen as weak. But… something in his voice wasn't judgment. Just concern.

"Sorry," she muttered. "I've got a headache. Took something for it. I'm okay. Let's just go."

He nodded, and together, they walked into the arcade.

It was too bright and too loud.

Children shrieked with laughter as tokens clinked into slots. Neon lights blinked in and out of rhythm. Somewhere, a Gengar animatronic did a bizarre little jig while vomiting tickets.

And above it all: the thoughts.

Oh, man, I'm gonna beat this score! She's watching me, act cool, act cool! Do you think that's her boyfriend? He looks so scrawny...

Sabrina flinched. She tried to close her mind, but her powers were too raw, too exposed. The environment was like trying to meditate inside a fireworks factory.

Austin didn't seem to notice.

He was guiding her toward a claw machine, eyes bright with mischief.

"You ever try this one?" he asked.

She shook her head.

He fed in a token and leaned forward, turning the crank with dramatic precision. Sabrina watched, uncertain. It was stupid. Childish. Meaningless.

And then he won a Pikachu plush, held it up in triumph, and turned to offer it to her like it was a legendary prize.

She blinked.

"Pika?" he said, imitating the voice badly.

And she laughed. Not a scoff. Not a sarcastic breath. A genuine, startled giggle escaped her lips before she could stop it.

She pressed her hand to her mouth, stunned.

Austin grinned. "There we go. Mission success."

They bounced from game to game—or rather, Austin bounced while Sabrina observed like she was analyzing a foreign ritual. She didn't win much, didn't try much, but she followed.

She was… curious.

Because this boy wasn't what she expected.

The first time she met him, he had projected ridiculous, borderline perverted images into his mind like landmines. She thought he was just another arrogant brat with too much confidence and too little filter.

But now… he was kind.

He was patient.

He noticed when she flinched. He slowed down when the noise got too much. He never mocked her for not knowing how to play the games. He just smiled, nudged her forward, and made space for her to figure things out. Even the Dark-type on his chest glared at her less now.

When it came time to sit down and eat, Sabrina picked at her pizza.

It was warm. Cheesy. Probably fine.

But the voices had started to creep in again.

Is she okay? She looks pale. Did she even smile at all today? Bet she's too good for him. I'd never date a guy like that.

She clenched her teeth.

Austin had gone off to the prize booth and returned, holding something in his hand—a small crystal on a silver chain. Purple, faintly glowing. The label on it had read: "Psychic-Type Stone."

"Got you something," he said, smiling sheepishly. "Thought it looked like you. Mysterious and cool. And hey, it was either this or a Machoke stress ball, so..."

He held it out.

Sabrina stared at the crystal in his hand, small and glowing faintly violet; a playful trinket, a prize from a game—but to her, it wasn't just that.

He had picked something for her.

Not out of strategy. Not out of manipulation. Just… thoughtfulness.

He had seen her, not as the Executive of a criminal syndicate, not as the psychic freak people whispered about, not as the cold weapon Giovanni molded—but as a girl. A person. And in that moment, her entire mind turned on itself.

It started with a flicker. A quiet confusion.

Why is he being kind?

Then it became questions. Emotions. Doubt.

Why is he looking at me like that? Why does my chest feel tight? Why can't I breathe like I usually do around people?

It wasn't like battle—where anger, focus, fear, and control danced like old friends in her head. These emotions were new. Soft. Unfamiliar. And she'd never been trained for them. No one had ever trained her for affection.

For vulnerability.

For joy.

And with those emotions rising, the walls of her discipline, her control, her carefully monitored thoughts—they cracked.

And in rushed everything.

Every heartbeat in the room. Every whisper. Every flicker of judgment, awe, attraction, curiosity. Every thought, emotion, impulse around her hit all at once—a tidal wave of voices and desires crashing into her psyche like shrapnel.

Too much. Too loud. Too human.

Her throat tightened as her vision blurred.

"Shut up," she whispered.

"A little too bright?" Austin asked, mistaking the comment.

"SHUT UP!"

Her voice rang out like a whipcrack. Her aura—always compressed, restrained, caged by years of training—snapped.

The table flew back, flipping into a nearby row of pinball machines. Austin was thrown with it, tumbling through a shower of sparks and flashing lights. The psychic pulse rippled through the arcade—screens went black, lights flickered, the Gengar animatronic sputtered and died mid-dance.

Everyone turned.

Everyone stared.

Sabrina stood there, trembling, her hands clenched into fists. Austin lay sprawled behind a busted token machine, blinking dazedly.

"...I liked the necklace," she whispered.

Then she turned and fled, boots echoing against tile, her cloak flaring behind her like a comet.

Outside, Sabrina gasped for breath as she leaned against the side of the building. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID. She wasn't meant to do this. She couldn't do this. She wanted to—and that made it worse.

He was nice—and now he probably thought she was insane.

She felt the tears coming and forced them back. You can't cry, she told herself. You're too strong for that. But in the silence of the night, the soft weight of a necklace still clutched in her trembling fingers...made her wonder if maybe, just maybe...

She didn't want to be strong all the time. Just understood. Maybe even by a weirdo with a baby-carried Umbreon and too much patience for his own good.

---

Austin burst through the arcade doors, the sound of the aftermath still ringing behind him—but none of that mattered. Sabrina was gone. Without hesitation, he released all his Pokémon in one smooth motion, Poké Balls clicking open like flares in the dim afternoon light.

"Guys, I need your help," he said, urgency in every syllable. "Sabrina's missing. She ran off after... well, you saw. If you find her, let her know I want to talk. Just talk. Tell her I'm not mad, and I'm here. Meet back here in five."

Pikachu gave a salute and bolted toward the rooftops. Rattata dashed into alleyways, tail flicking. Vee lingered just long enough to give Austin a determined look, then melted into the shadows like a wraith.

Austin took off in the other direction, checking alleyways, side streets, scanning every face in the crowd. But Sabrina was nowhere. Not surprising—for someone with her abilities, hiding was second nature.

So he pulled out the burner phone Green had insisted he carry—a necessary evil for a growing list of private contacts—and called Jessie. Then James.

Finally, after some theatrical groaning and dramatic sighing on their end, he got what he needed: Sabrina's number.

He dialed. No answer. He tried again. And again. And again. On the fifth try, the line finally clicked. A voice, guarded and raw, came through. "Who is this?"

"Sabrina, it's me. Austin. Are you okay?"

A pause.

"I'm fine," she said stiffly. "Just... got overwhelmed. Couldn't control my powers. I'm sorry if you got hurt."

Austin let out a breath, trying to keep it light. "Nah, I'm tougher than I look. My ego's a little bruised, but that happens anytime I get launched into a claw machine."

No laugh. Just silence.

"Can you tell me where you are?" he asked gently.

"Why?"

"So we can finish our date."

"I don't want to," she replied, but there was no bite in it.

Austin tilted his head. "Don't want to? Or are you afraid?"

A beat passed.

"...Both."

His chest ached at the honesty in her voice. She sounded so small. So far from the confident, stone-faced Rocket executive he remembered from the manga.

He swallowed. "I knew you were a psychic when we first met."

Her voice sharpened. "What?"

"I've met psychics before. I could tell. That's why I did what I did—why I projected those... weird thoughts. I wasn't trying to be a creep. I was trying to guard myself. I didn't know what you wanted."

She was quiet again.

"I didn't lie to you, Sabrina," Austin said. "I just protected myself. But I see you now—the real you—and I'm not afraid."

Silence.

Then... a knock.

He turned.

She stood outside the nearby phone booth, shoulders hunched, tear-streaked cheeks flushed from crying. He stepped out slowly, soft as a breeze. "How're you feeling?"

"Better," she whispered, voice raw. "Still... weird. But better."

He nodded. "Let's finish our date. Just somewhere quieter."

Sabrina hesitated, then gave a small, brave smile. "Can we get different clothes too?"

Austin grinned. "Sure. Whatever makes you feel happy."

Her smile faltered a little. "Does a freak like me even deserve to be happy? That seems selfish. I want to be selfish."

Austin blinked at her, then said quietly, "Maybe the truth is... there's a little selfishness in every happiness. Wanting something for yourself doesn't make you a freak. It just makes you human."

And without thinking too hard, he pulled her into a gentle hug. She clung to him like she hadn't realized how much she needed it.

Later, they found a quiet boutique tucked into a side street where Sabrina changed out of her flashier outfit and into something more low-key: faded jeans, a soft lavender hoodie, and a dark grey beanie that slouched just enough to make her look like a tired college student.

Austin didn't say much—just offered a thumbs-up when she emerged.

"You look great."

"You don't have to lie," she muttered, fidgeting with the sleeves.

"I'm not lying," he said honestly. "I mean it. You look like... you."

She smiled.

They ended their night with a gondola ride, renting one of the small boats that drifted lazily through the canal that ran through Cerulean's park district. As they glided across the moonlit water, Sabrina sipped her coffee and leaned against the railing, watching the ripples pass.

Austin, on the other hand, was struggling to row.

"Okay, I think I've got it now—nope—nope, we're spinning again—"

Sabrina raised a hand. The oar floated in place, turned smoothly, and guided them forward like an invisible hand was steering the stars.

Austin sighed. "I could've done that."

Sabrina smirked. "It's my date too. Let me carry some of the weight."

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fair."

As the boat drifted into a more quiet bend in the canal, surrounded by willow trees and lantern light, they both fell into a silence—not awkward, but warm. Restful.

"Austin," she said, voice quiet. "Can you tell me more about the psychics you've met?"

"You want to meet them?"

Sabrina nodded slowly. "Yes. Being born a psychic is... one in a million. It would be good to know people who see the world the way I do."

He smiled faintly, letting his gaze wander upward toward the starlit sky. "There's a girl. In Viridian. Her name's Yellow. Psychic, but gentle. She could understand Pokémon—even heal them. Rare kind of person."

He pictured her clearly in his mind—that yellow poncho, that ever-present smile.

"I could show you an image," Austin offered, tapping his temple. "If you want to peek."

Sabrina tensed slightly. "No," she said. "I don't want to read your mind."

"What? Is it too perverted in there?"

Sabrina rolled her eyes. "No. Maybe. But… I'll take your word for it."

There was a beat of silence. The breeze tugged gently at Sabrina's hoodie, her hair shifting like a curtain across her cheek. She didn't push it away.

"Thanks," Austin said. "But I've been wondering… why did you even want to go on this date? You know—considering, uh, that first encounter we had."

Sabrina didn't answer right away. She stared out over the dark water, eyes unreadable.

"You don't have to say if you don't want to," Austin said quickly, already regretting the question.

But then, she spoke.

"Freak. Monster. Cold. Emotionless. Loner." I've heard—or rather, felt—those thoughts directed at me more times than I can count," she said softly. "People don't trust me. I don't blame them. Who'd want to be friends with someone who can hear what you think?"

Austin said nothing. He just listened.

"I don't have the kind of power to read minds like a book—not unless someone's thinking really loud. But that doesn't stop people from pulling away. Even before I say a word, they think I'm a danger." She gave a bitter smile. "Which I suppose I am."

Austin frowned.

"And then you," Sabrina continued. "Despite your… colorful imagination..." she gave him a sidelong glance, just short of smirking, "you didn't run. You didn't flinch. You talked to me like a person. You saw me. That's… rare."

She hesitated, then whispered, almost to herself: "I realized that we accept the love we think we deserve."

Austin's heart clenched. His throat went dry. She actually believed that? Without thinking, he reached over and gently took her hand in his.

"Sabrina," he said. "You deserve to be someone's first choice. You deserve to be cherished—not tolerated. Not kept at arm's length. Chosen. Not settled for."

Sabrina's head dipped. Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, but she didn't pull her hand away. She squeezed his fingers instead. They drifted in silence, letting the water carry them—not needing words. Just warmth.

Peace never lasted long. But this moment was perfect.

Later, as the gondola bumped gently against the dock, Austin climbed out first and held out a hand.

Sabrina looked like she didn't want to move. She clutched the edge of the seat, watching the moonlight shimmer over the canal.

"I'd like to stay on the water a little longer," she murmured. "This… this was nice. Thank you."

"I'm glad you had fun." He offered a quiet smile. "I hope you find even better dates in the future."

She blinked, startled. "Wait, do you… do you want to go on a second one?"

Austin rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know. You and I have a lot to deal with. I'll probably be leaving Cerulean soon. Continuing my journey."

Sabrina raised her hand, and a faint pink glow hovered around the Pokédex on his hip. It floated gently into her hand as she typed something in. "If you ever have the time… call me," she said, handing it back.

Austin took it, their fingers brushing. "I will," he said softly.

She nodded. "Goodbye, Austin."

He turned to leave, walking up the path, the night air brushing against his cheeks.

Behind him, Sabrina stood in the quiet. Watching.

Her fingers tightened slightly over her chest. She could've looked into his mind. Could've found the answers—whether he really liked her, whether he saw her as anything more. But she didn't. Because trust was rare.

"I deserve to be someone's first choice," she whispered, repeating his words like a mantra. "To be cherished. To be chosen."

From the pocket of her hoodie, the little crystal Austin had won for her glinted beneath the moonlight, casting soft violet hues across her palm. Sabrina held it like it might vanish if she let go—not just a prize, but a reminder that someone had chosen something just for her. She wiped her cheeks, the tears still falling despite the small laugh that bubbled out of her. It was quiet, breathless—the kind of laugh that comes after holding too much in for too long.

"Stupid boy," she muttered, voice shaking. "Making me cry over some cheap crystal."

But it wasn't cheap. Not to her.

She could still feel the warmth of his hand in hers, still hear the way he said her name like it meant something. And for the first time in what felt like forever, the constant buzz of thoughts in her head—the paranoia, the suspicion, the noise—had gone silent. Not because she forced it quiet. But because she felt safe.

Clutching the necklace to her chest, Sabrina tilted her head back and stared at the stars. The night sky blurred with the last of her tears, the world softening at the edges.

"See you soon, Austin," she whispered, barely loud enough for the wind to catch.

---

Looking forward to hearing your thoughts! (If you're eager to read ahead, you can check out early chapters over on Patreon!)


Let me know what you thought of this chapter—your feedback keeps me going and inspires new ideas. Thank you all for being part of this journey! You've been amazing readers, and I'm so grateful for your support.

Until next time,
—Adamo Amet

 

[theaceoffire]

Ash the rizzler strikes again! Ladies beware!

 

[Lillie Jones]

thanks for the chapter

 

[kinja427]

That was really sweet. I am looking forward to Austin accidentally causing a coup and taking over Team Rocket. He already has Jessie, James, Meowth, and now Sabrina on his side.

 

[Adamos_Amet]

Four Days Later…

The stadium lights flared to life, casting a shimmering blue hue over the water-themed arena. The crowd packed into the Cerulean Gym roared as Daisy Waterflower stepped onto the diving board, her voice amplified by the mic in her hand, echoing across every speaker in the gym.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, travelers and trainers from all across Kanto!"

The applause swelled.

"Today marks something truly special," she continued, her voice proud and unwavering. "After weeks of grueling battles and unforgettable matchups, our own Misty Waterflower has achieved her milestone... one thousand official Pokémon battles!"

The crowd erupted into cheers so loud, it rattled the rafters.

Misty, sitting in the VIP section, covered her face with her hands, embarrassed by the attention—but she was smiling, too.

Daisy held up a hand for silence.

"With this milestone, Misty is now officially eligible to apply for Gym Leader of Cerulean City!"

The crowd cheered louder.

Gym leadership wasn't just a title. It was the lifeblood of a city. A Gym Leader brought a year-round influx of challengers, meaning consistent tourism, booming PokéMarts, hotel stays, restaurants packed nightly, and battle fans pouring into stadium seating.

It wasn't just prestige. It was economic power. A Gym Leader changed a city's fate.

"And now," Daisy added, voice rising, "we begin the second stage of our tournament!"

Excitement crackled like static in the air.

"A single-elimination bracket. All our trainers who bested Misty now compete among themselves; for pride, for glory, and of course... for the grand prize!"

The crowd held its breath.

"First up... you know him. You hate him. You love to hate him. The loudest mouth and maybe the most controversial win in this entire tournament..."

A chorus of boos began before his name even dropped.

"Damien Calloway!"

Damien stepped out onto the battlefield in a tailored jacket, his hair wind-blown like he'd walked out of a shampoo commercial. He blew kisses to the audience—who responded with paper fans and foam Poké Balls being thrown at him.

"That's right, let it out!" Damien called with a smug grin. "Can't boo me after I win!"

"And his opponent..." Daisy's voice turned playful. "You know him, you've bought his merch, and if you've laughed at a buff Pikachu in a tank top... he probably sold it to you."

The crowd laughed.

"Give it up for Ash Ketchum!"

Austin walked through the curtain, hands in his pockets, Pikachu on his shoulder. A familiar Pika rumbled from his partner, low and ready. He could feel the weight of eyes—some in support, some in suspicion.

But Austin didn't care.

Across the field, Damien scoffed. "You're bringing that thing into the ring?" He pointed at Pikachu with a smirk. "Hope you packed a toaster, 'cause I'm about to fry your little rat."

Austin didn't flinch.

Pikachu's eyes narrowed, lightning sparking at his cheeks.

The referee raised the flag.

"Begin!"

"Flash Cannon, Scizor!" Damien barked.

Scizor sprang forward, its metallic body gleaming as it charged up a dense orb of silver-white energy between its pincers.

Austin remained calm. "Iron Tail."

Pikachu's tail gleamed white-silver as he slammed it into the surface of the water arena with force that cracked the tiled basin below.

WHOOSH.

A towering geyser of water burst upward, splitting the pool clean down the middle—a mini tsunami crashing down on Scizor.

The crowd gasped as the stadium misted with fine droplets. Water rained over the lights, catching beams of illumination and shimmering like crystal.

Scizor stood, drenched, its wings sputtering from the sudden dousing.

"Thunderbolt," Austin said simply.

"Chu!"

The lightning bolt exploded outward from Pikachu like a sunbeam made of fury. The electricity danced through the soaked battlefield, instantly attracted to the now waterlogged steel-type.

Scizor's eyes widened.

ZAAAAP!

The lightning hit dead on. Sparks erupted across Scizor's carapace, and the air filled with the scent of ozone and scorched metal. The mantis-like Pokémon twitched once then collapsed.

The referee stared for a second, blinking. Then raised the flag.

"Scizor is unable to battle. Pikachu wins."

The crowd lost it. Even the Cerulean Sisters were caught off guard.

"Did that just happen?" Lily whispered.

"I… I think he just one-shotted a Scizor." Violet's jaw was on the floor.

"...Looks like our Austin is more powerful than we thought," Misty said with a smile.

Damien, red in the face, hissed through his teeth. "Beginner's luck." He threw out his next Poké Ball. "Let's show them real power! Electabuzz, let's fry this mouse!"

With a flash of light, the humanoid electric-type landed on the opposite side of the field. Sparks danced across its body as it pounded its fists together, sending out a wave of static.

Austin simply raised an eyebrow.

Pikachu tilted his head, unimpressed.

Damien grinned. "Let's see how your rat handles real voltage."

Austin smiled. "Funny," he said. "That's exactly what Pikachu was thinking."

The referee blew the whistle again as the pool slowly refilled, gentle ripples forming over the surface. Austin exhaled, calm as ever, as he watched Damien practically bouncing with impatience on the other side of the battlefield.

"Electabuzz! Use Thunder!" Damien barked, voice smug with overconfidence.

Austin raised an eyebrow. Thunder? On a Pokémon with no specialized training for accuracy or field condition? That was… bold. No, it was lazy.

Austin's lips tugged into a thin line as he thought, Daddy's money strikes again. That was all this was. Damien didn't train his Pokémon, didn't teach them combinations or timing. He just bought overpowered TMs, slapped them on, and expected to win by brute force.

"Into the pool," Austin said quietly, "and use Double Strike."

Pikachu nodded and leapt into the water with a splash, disappearing beneath the surface like a torpedo.

Electricity gathered between Electabuzz's horns. Damien grinned wide, arms outstretched. "This'll finish your rat!"

The Thunder blasted from Electabuzz in a chaotic bolt of yellow energy. It cracked across the pool with an earsplitting boom, lightning dancing across the surface like living flame. The explosion of steam and light made several in the audience shield their eyes.

But when the smoke cleared… Pikachu was gone.

"Where the hell is it?!" Damien yelled.

Gasps and pointing fingers filled the stadium.

"Above!"

Dozens of Pikachu dropped from the sky like streaks of lightning, Double Team illusions casting flickering shadows across the battlefield.

Damien panicked. "Giga Impact! Take them all out!"

Austin barely held back a snort. Another TM? Seriously?

Electabuzz charged forward with reckless power, fists pulled back, a spiraling purple aura consuming his form. He plowed through the air, bursting through the first illusion. Then another. Then another. And then a yellow blur leapt from the pool like a flash of judgment.

The real Pikachu.

"Sword Strike," Austin called.

Pikachu's tail shimmered like molten steel as it swung wide, catching Electabuzz square in the jaw mid-charge. The impact rang out like a thunderclap.

Electabuzz flew backwards, out of the arena, and straight into the psychic barrier that shimmered around the audience. His limp body slid down with a dull thud, unconscious.

The referee raised his flag.

"Electabuzz is unable to battle!"

The crowd froze stunned then exploded into cheers.

Austin let the applause wash over him, unmoving, not even smirking. But inside, he was thinking: He's got no strategy. No rhythm. He thinks throwing power at a problem fixes it. He doesn't train, he doesn't connect. He doesn't deserve Charmander.

And then someone from the crowd shouted: "RELEASE CHARMANDER!"

Green.

She had waited for the exact moment Damien's ego was teetering—when he needed to reassert control, needed something familiar to cling to. And she offered it like bait on a hook.

The crowd seized on it. The chant spread like wildfire. "Charmander! Charmander!"

Damien blinked, caught in the momentum of a scene he no longer directed.

All according to plan.

"Go!" he shouted, tossing it out without thinking.

Charmander landed with a light tap on the field. He blinked at the arena, then at the crowd, then at Pikachu.

"Pika," the electric mouse said, beckoning with a smug flick of his paw.

The referee gave the signal, but Damien didn't issue a command.

He was too focused on sulking. But Charmander? He didn't wait. With determination in his eyes, the little lizard opened his mouth and fired a thick stream of green energy—Dragon Breath.

Pikachu turned, glanced at Austin who nodded. Do it.

The breath slammed into Pikachu with a powerful whump, sending him flying backwards, sparks trailing from his cheeks.

"Pikachu!" Austin shouted as he caught the electric-type in his arms. His voice carried just enough panic to make the performance real. He smirked as he dusted Pikachu off.

"Whew… didn't expect that. Looks like Electabuzz wore you out just enough to let Charmander finish you off…"

The crowd erupted, their cheers booming like a tidal wave crashing through the gym.

"Charmander! Charmander!" they cried, swept up in the sudden underdog story playing out before them. In their eyes, the little lizard had done the impossible—taking down the unbeatable Pikachu in a single, dazzling blast. They didn't see the strategy behind it. They didn't notice the moment Austin and Pikachu threw the fight.

All they saw was heart, fire, and a comeback worth rooting for.

The little lizard blinked, stunned. He turned slowly, seeing people clapping, kids cheering, adults standing, smiling, nodding. It was all for him. He lit up, tail flame blazing, mouth curling into a wide, innocent smile.

Austin watched, his heart squeezing in a weird way. You deserve this, he thought. Even if your trainer doesn't.

He gently set Pikachu down on the bench and pulled out another Poké Ball.

"Let's keep this one going," he said aloud. "A battle of dragons, huh?" He smirked. Even if neither are real dragons. He tossed the Poké Ball. "Let's go, Horsea!"

Damien took charge the only way he knew how by barking orders louder than his own insecurities. "Fire Blast!"

Charmander flinched at the command. The little fire-type's tail flickered with uncertainty. Austin watched closely, lips pressed in a flat line.

Of course… He gave him the TM.

Damien had likely slapped the powerful move onto Charmander without care, expecting raw strength to replace actual training. Probably didn't even bother to teach him Flamethrower first. Charmander hadn't mastered the basics, and now he was expected to pull off an advanced technique like Fire Blast in front of a roaring crowd.

It was like handing a violin to someone who'd never held a bow and expecting a symphony.

Austin didn't need to say it aloud. He could see it in Charmander's eyes: the panic, the pressure, the overwhelming need to perform… to be enough. He hated this part. Hated seeing that look.

"Water Gun!" Austin commanded sharply, the words leaving his mouth before he could hesitate.

Horsea responded instantly, unleashing a precise stream of pressurized water that struck Charmander square in the chest. The type advantage hit hard, but Charmander didn't fall. He staggered, hit one knee, claws digging into the dirt, tail sizzling as steam rose in tiny hisses.

And still he stood.

Austin's brows lifted just a fraction.

Resilient.

"Fire Blast!" Damien shouted again, like the volume would make it work. Like screaming the move would magically bring it to life.

Charmander turned, trembling, mouth barely flickering with flame—he was trying.

Austin exhaled, eyes shutting with a mix of pity and cold focus. Follow the plan, he reminded himself.

"Twister."

The command was calm, calculated. And immediate.

Horsea spun, releasing a spiraling vortex of dragonic wind and water that crashed into Charmander before he could finish drawing breath. The little lizard was swept up in the force, tumbled back across the field, and landed in a heap near the edge of the arena.

Silence fell for a moment.

Austin opened his eyes, gaze falling not on the fainted Charmander, but on Damien—still standing there, red-faced, fists clenched, looking for something... someone... to blame.

But Austin wasn't watching to gloat. No, his focus was already ahead. This wasn't about defeating Charmander. It was about freeing him. And now that Damien had burned through his team, the real work could begin.

Time to get that Charmander the trainer he deserves.

---

Austin slipped off the stage without a glance back, vanishing into the crowd like smoke. Behind him, Daisy's voice echoed across the arena, announcing the next match. He didn't care. A faint buzz in his pocket confirmed it: Green was already in motion, intercepting Damien's entourage. All the noise. That bought him a few precious minutes. Time enough.

He found Damien sulking alone behind the staging corridor, arms crossed, jaw clenched, glaring at nothing.

"Hey, hey," Austin said, voice easy.

Damien didn't look at him. "What the hell do you want?"

There was venom in his tone, bitterness laced with humiliation. Good. That would make what came next smoother.

"I've got a proposition. Thought you might be interested."

"If you're trying to sell me one of your trash T-shirts," Damien scoffed, "save it for your twelve-year-old fanbase."

Austin's eye twitched, but his smile held. "Not that. I'm here to talk about Charmander."

That got Damien's attention. He turned, eyes narrowing. "What about it?"

"I want him. I'm offering a trade."

Damien snorted. "Right. Like I'd just hand him over. My dad didn't raise an idiot, you don't get something for nothing."

"No," Austin agreed. "He raised a monster who only takes."

That made Damien stand up straighter. "Watch it."

Austin shrugged and gestured toward the gondola station just off the gym's edge. "Let's talk somewhere quieter. We'll go to the Pokémon Center. Neutral ground."

Damien hesitated, then followed.

The gondola drifted quietly over the glittering canals, the Cerulean skyline reflected in the water below. The only sound was the soft dip of Austin's paddle slicing through the water. Damien sat opposite him, foot tapping, arms still crossed.

Austin handed him a slim black folder. "Here. Read."

"What is this?"

"Your reflection," Austin said. "Start flipping."

Damien opened the file and skimmed the first page. His eyes narrowed. Then the second page. The third. His posture shifted. The silence stretched as he read, each sheet exposing a new layer of rot and crime linking found by Detective Lyle during the private investigation. By the fourth page, Damien's hands were shaking.

"Where the hell did you get this?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Damien's hand twitched toward his belt. "Do you have any idea who my father is?"

Austin's smile sharpened. "Yeah. I do. That's why I haven't hit send on this yet."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out his burner phone, letting Damien see the email draft on the screen. Multiple recipients: league officials, major news outlets, two Pokémon rights organizations, and one very prominent Saffron City journalist with a taste for scandal.

Damien went pale. "You really want to do this?" he hissed. "You think they'll touch me? My father could buy the Indigo League if he wanted to."

"Sure," Austin said, still paddling. "He could try. But the question isn't what he can do. It's what he will do when his company stock tanks thirty percent after the headlines hit. When protestors are camped outside your house. When sponsors start pulling out and half of Kanto's media is screaming for Charmander's release. You think your dad's going to go to war for his disappointing, talentless son?"

Damien's face twisted. "Don't push me," he said. "I swear, if you..."

Austin dropped the paddle. The boat swayed slightly as he leaned forward, eyes suddenly cold. "No," he said quietly. "You don't push. You don't bluff. You don't threaten. You sit there and listen, because I'm the only reason you're not in a jail cell tonight."

For a second, the air went heavy.

Damien looked away. "…What do you want?"

"The trade still stands," Austin said, straightening. "You give me Charmander, and you get the file."

Damien didn't hesitate this time. "Fine. Deal."

"Not done yet." Austin reached into his bag and tossed him a folded piece of paper.

Damien caught it. "What's this?"

"A letter," Austin said. "From you. To Charmander. You're going to read it before the hand-off. Loud enough for him to hear it. Convincing. Sincere. You're going to fake the best performance of your life. Cry, if you can."

Damien opened the letter and scanned it. His brow furrowed. "This is pathetic. I'd never say half this crap."

"You're going to say all of it. Because it's not about you. It's about him. You're going to give him closure. A goodbye he can believe in. One that lets him walk away from you with dignity. Something you've never once given him."

Damien crumpled the paper slightly in his fist. "Why? Why go this far? Why risk all this for one dumb Pokémon?"

Austin studied him, quiet for a beat.

Then, without a trace of humor, he said, "Because he still tries."

Damien blinked.

"That little fire-lizard," Austin continued, voice low and steady, "stood up after a type-advantage hit. Tried to obey a move he wasn't ready for. Smiled when people finally saw him. He gave everything for a trainer who never earned it. And if that doesn't matter to you, then you've already lost something you'll never get back."

He leaned forward again, face-to-face.

"And because some of us remember what it's like to be small. To be overlooked. To be loyal to someone who didn't deserve it."

Damien said nothing. His knuckles were white.

Austin sat back, picking up the paddle again. "We'll be at the Center in ten. Memorize the letter. You screw this up, the file goes public."

"…This isn't over," Damien muttered.

Austin's paddle didn't pause. "Keep telling yourself that."

---

The Pokémon Center glowed with clinical calm... pale light, polished tile, nurses moving with soft, practiced efficiency. It was a place of healing, of safety. And right now, it was about to become the site of a liberation.

Austin handed Pikachu over to a nurse with a quiet nod. The mouse gave a tired but trusting Pika before being wheeled off for treatment.

Austin didn't watch him go. He turned to Damien, who looked as if he were walking to his own execution. They stepped into the Support Office, a sterile side-room lined with consoles and identity verifiers.

"I'm here to request a transfer of ownership," Austin said flatly.

The attendant blinked, recognizing both trainers immediately. "Ah, of course. Please provide both your IDs."

Austin scanned his card.

Damien hesitated.

Austin rolled his eyes and handed over a notepad. "Here. Write my Trainer ID down before you forget it. I know numbers are hard for rich boys who use daddy's wallet instead of their brain."

Damien's jaw clenched. His hand shook slightly as he wrote the digits down. But he didn't say a word.

He couldn't. Not anymore.

The process took moments. Charmander's name blinked across the terminal screen as his registration swapped from Damien Calloway to Ash Ketchum. With that final beep, it was done. And now came the hard part.

---

Austin led Damien down a quiet hallway, away from the Center's crowds and healing chambers to a gardened corner just outside the emergency bay. Quiet. Private.

"Now," Austin said, voice low. "Do your part."

Damien sneered but said nothing. He pulled out the Poké Ball and released Charmander.

The small flame-tailed Pokémon emerged with a soft burst of light... and immediately stared down at the ground.

No celebration. No cheer. Just quiet shame. As if he already knew what was coming.

"Look at him," Damien muttered, tone sharp with disgust. "Still moping. You'd think he'd finally evolved into something useful."

There was a crack, not of violence, but of a boot slamming down onto the tile.

"Try again!"

Damien froze, the paper half-unfolded in his hands.

"You want him to believe you?" Austin continued, voice low. "Then say it like you mean it. From memory. Or the deal's off."

Damien stared at him, teeth clenched, face pale, sweat just beginning to gather at his temples. His fingers twitched, crumpling the page. But he didn't argue.

Austin didn't need to say what they both already knew: if this wasn't convincing, it would all come crashing down. So Damien tucked the letter away, stood tall, and looked at Charmander.

Damien did something unthinkable. He dropped to one knee.

His voice was steady. Too steady. Like he was reading lines from a script buried in his skull. But each word was wrapped in enough emotion... controlled tremble, faltering breath... that for Charmander, it was impossible to tell the difference.

"Charmander… I was cruel to you. I gave you orders you weren't ready for. Blamed you for things you didn't understand. I made you feel like you were never enough. Like you were the problem."

Charmander's head tilted, eyes shimmering.

"But you always tried. No matter what. Even when I yelled, even when I called you weak… you gave everything. You kept believing in me, even when I didn't deserve it."

Damien took a breath, and for a moment, his hands trembled not from acting.

"You deserve better. You are better. You've got a fire in you stronger than any TM, stronger than anything I ever gave you. You could become a Charizard who soars past the clouds. I believe that now."

Austin watched him in still silence.

"But I'm not the trainer who'll help you do it."

Charmander's eyes widened.

Damien leaned forward, one hand hovering above the ground, his voice softening just enough to hurt.

"I'm not good enough for you."

Charmander shook his head.

"So… I want to ask you something."

Damien swallowed hard.

"Can you promise me one thing?"

Charmander nodded.

"Will you become his Pokémon?"

There was silence.

Then the little lizard surged forward into Damien's arms, clinging like he was still hoping this was all a bad dream.

"Char… char…"

Damien's arms stiffened, but he didn't push him away.

"You promised," he said finally, voice soft.

Charmander froze.

Austin crouched nearby, holding out a hand. Calm. Open. Patient. "I know this is hard," he said gently. "But I promise… I'll help you grow. One day, you'll look down from the clouds and know you made the right choice."

Charmander looked at Damien. Torn.

"GO TO HIM!"

Charmander flinched. His eyes trembled. Slowly, painfully, he let go.

He walked one step at a time toward Austin's outstretched hand. Then he placed his claw in the boy's palm.

Austin smiled soft, but certain. "Nice to meet you, Charmander," he said. "I'm going to be your new trainer."

Charmander turned back, one last time.

Damien was already walking away.

"Char!" he cried out, one last call. One last plea for recognition.

But Damien never looked back.

The fire-lizard shivered and Austin caught him in a quiet hug.

"Cry all you want," Austin murmured. "You've earned it. And it just means you're strong enough to feel it."

Charmander broke quietly at first, then all at once, sobs muffled against Austin's chest as the trainer just held him and let it happen.

A few minutes later, Charmander wiped his eyes with the back of his claw.

Austin crouched beside him, voice soft. "We'll take it slow, okay? You've been through a lot. This is a big change for both of us."

Charmander nodded, sniffling. "We'll figure it out. One day at a time."

Austin glanced down at the strange discoloration on Charmander's back... His brow furrowed. "Nurse Joy should take a look at that," he murmured, quietly returning Charmander to his Poké Ball.

But as he turned toward the hallway, he froze.

Professor Oak was standing there, arms crossed, expression unreadable but his eyes were sharp, fixed on Austin like he already knew something. The look said one thing: I want answers.

---

Meanwhile, Damien stormed down the Pokémon Center hallway, thumb jabbing at the buttons on his clunky silver Pokétch, the outdated model barely keeping up with his fury.

Ring… Ring… Click.

"Oi, bitch," he snapped. "Get my father on the line right now..."

"Hmm," a low, gravel-like voice replied, sharp and cold as steel. "So that's how you speak to my secretary?"

Damien froze. His stomach twisted.

"F-Father," he stammered, "I thought... I didn't mean to..."

"Angry?" the voice roared, so loud Damien winced, pulling the device away from his ear. "You're angry? You ruined your own name and mine! I've had investors breathing down my neck for the last hour! You've turned our company into a liability!"

"I… I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

"Oh, excellent," his father hissed. "Not only a failure, you're an ignorant one. Turn on any channel. You're famous now. Your crimes are all on national television."

Damien went rigid.

"F-Father, I know who..."

"Shut up."

The words hit like a slap.

"I'm sending someone to collect you. You're done here. Don't speak. Don't move. Don't think." The call ended with a dead click. Damien stood there, shaking, staring at the Pokétch like it had betrayed him. Then the rage hit. Hot. Burning.

---

Austin was speaking with Professor Oak in the Center lobby, hands casually tucked into his jacket.

"You son of a bitch!" Damien roared, storming in. "You set me up!"

Austin turned calmly, not surprised. "Oh look," he said dryly, "the garbage crawled back."

Damien lunged, fist raised in a wild, uncoordinated punch.

"Predictable," Austin muttered.

He sidestepped effortlessly and as Damien stumbled past, off-balance.

CRACK!

Austin's elbow slammed into the boy's nose with clean, brutal precision. Blood sprayed. Damien collapsed to the floor, clutching his face with a strangled cry. "Pro tip," Austin said, crouching next to him. "If you're gonna sucker punch someone, don't announce it first like you're in a bad action movie."

Before Damien could retort, a figure stepped between them.

"Enough," said Professor Oak.

"Piss off, old man!" Damien spat, wiping blood on his sleeve.

Big mistake.

Without warning, the aged professor pivoted, hooking Damien's waist and with shocking strength suplexed him into the polished tile. The impact made several nurses jump. Damien's head bounced with a dull thud and his body went limp.

Austin blinked. "Holy sh... Professor, how?"

Oak straightened with a casual grunt, dusting off his lab coat. "Oh, I used to wrestle back in the day," he said with a small smile. "Before I took up science."

Austin looked down at Damien, unconscious, arms sprawled awkwardly. "Well, what happens to him now?"

Oak's smile faded. The humor left his face, replaced by something heavier.

"For starters," Professor Oak said, "the League will have to respond to the media outcry. Damien's trainer license will be suspended pending a full investigation and any associates who helped cover up his actions will face the same."

Austin listened intently.

"His Pokémon will be taken into foster care," Oak continued, "unless they're linked directly to any criminal activity. If they are… they'll be quarantined for further examination or, in severe cases, placed in rehabilitation facilities." He exhaled through his nose, his tone sharp now. "But honestly? That's a slap on the wrist if you ask me. I'm filing a formal complaint with the Department of Trainer Welfare. They'll be coordinating with Kanto's Special Investigations Bureau. And they don't play games."

Austin raised a brow. "And what about his rich dad?"

"Mr. Calloway will be investigated thoroughly. If I had to guess," Oak added with disgust, "he'll disown Damien publicly. Paint him as a rogue son, a bad apple. Then pull some PR stunt... donate to a few charities, issue a press statement about abuse prevention. All a smokescreen to protect the brand."

"So they're basically done?"

"Depends on what you mean by done."

Austin gave a dry, tired chuckle. "I mean… I don't have to deal with them anymore. Defeated the villain, roll credits. Hurrah." His tone was half-joking, half-hopeful, and fully aware it was wishful thinking.

Oak's expression softened slightly, then turned pragmatic. "You don't have to worry about Damien, no. Mr. Calloway isn't stupid enough to let his son cause more damage not while the spotlight's burning a hole through his reputation. He'll keep Damien under lock and key just to save his own skin." He paused, then snorted. "And if he tries anything himself…" Oak glanced out the window, jaw firming. "I'll handle it."

Austin looked at him... quiet, curious.

Oak's eyes twinkled, just faintly. "I may not wear a cape, but I'm still the former Champion. And father to the current one. I've got more pull in Kanto than any suit with a checkbook." He leaned closer, voice low but steady. "And if that's not enough, well… I have friends in very high places. The kind that make men like Mr. Calloway think a dozen times before making a single move."

Austin let out a slow breath. Then offered a small, respectful nod. "…Thanks for the help."

"Don't thank me, boy," he said. "Thank yourself. You didn't just win a battle. You changed a life."

Austin glanced at the Poké Ball at his side, where Charmander now rested. His fingers brushed against it, gently.

"…Yeah," he murmured. "Let's hope I don't screw it up."

Oak placed a hand on his shoulder. "You won't," he said with quiet certainty.

Austin took a deep breath, wanting to change the topic. "Actually, Professor… can I ask you something?"

Oak raised a brow. "Go ahead."

"Why isn't Charizard a dragon-type?" Austin asked, his face scrunched in mock confusion. "You'd think wings, fire-breath, the whole deal, he'd qualify. But no. Flying type."

Oak laughed. "Ah, that debate. Believe me, it's caused more than a few arguments at interregional conferences." He motioned for Austin to walk with him. "There was a report out of Johto a few years back..."

"Oh no," Austin muttered, grinning. "A research paper. We're gonna be here a while."

"Hush now," Oak said, smirking. "You brought this upon yourself."

---

After the chaos with Damien, Austin wasted no time. He personally sent Charmander to Viridian City to his Nurse Joy.

When he described the strange pigment on Charmander's back, Nurse Joy's bright demeanor turned serious. She didn't dismiss it with a smile or a soft pat on the shoulder. Instead, she simply nodded, her voice calm and firm.

"I'll run a full diagnostic," she said. "No shortcuts. You'll get answers, hero."

He'd trusted her with worse before. He nodded, leaving Charmander in her care.

But the day wasn't done with him yet.

Back at the Cerulean Gym, the tournament continued, and Austin, still carrying the weight of everything he'd done, still managed to carve his way through the bracket. The finals approached faster than he expected. One moment he was brushing dust off his jacket, the next he was standing beneath the roaring lights, staring across the field at a familiar smirk.

Gary Oak.

Of course it was Gary.

Felt like fate. But also… not.

In the anime, Ash had never faced Gary here in Cerulean City. But in the games, Red and Blue clashed at every badge. This? This felt like a ripple. A shift in fate. A domino that had tipped somewhere between canon and consequence.

"Get ready to lose, Ashy-boy!" Gary called from across the battlefield, voice cocky, bouncing with energy. That same smug grin he always wore, the one that said I'm the better trainer, and I know it.

"That's cute."

Gary blinked. It wasn't the comeback he was expecting. No fire. No banter. No spark.

Just a cold, dismissive shrug.

"I'll let your Pokémon cry into the mud when this is over," Gary tried again, raising his voice like he was still trying to spark the usual game between them.

Austin adjusted his glove and stared at the battlefield. "Yeah. Sure. Say whatever helps you sleep at night."

There was no edge in his tone. No playfulness. Just indifference.

Austin sighed through his nose, finally looking Gary in the eyes. Not with hatred. Not even with annoyance.

Just exhaustion.

"Not everything's a rivalry, Gary," he said quietly. "Sometimes a battle's just a battle. Nothing more."

And then he turned, walking to his podium.

Gary watched him go, his fists clenched at his sides. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He wanted the fire. The shouting. The petty jabs and high-stakes energy. But Austin... this Ash... wasn't playing. And for the first time in a long time, Gary felt the hollow echo of a game he was playing alone.

The crowd still cheered. The field still buzzed. But beneath the noise, one boy felt like a trainer and the other felt like a child.

They took their podiums.

Austin drew in a slow, steady breath. A ritual he'd unconsciously built back in Pewter City, forged during the long days of training while strangers watched and judged from the sidelines.

The noise around him dulled, blurring into a distant hum like wind through trees. The brightness of the arena lights softened in his mind, no longer blinding, just background. He felt the smooth weight of the Poké Ball in his palm. The familiar presence of Pikachu on his shoulder, warm and steady. Nothing else mattered. Not the crowd. Not the cameras. Not the noise. Just him. Just the battlefield. Just the fight ahead.

The referee raised the flags. The signal came.

They threw their Poké Balls in unison.

In a shimmer of red, Vee landed softly on the muddy field, black fur rippling under the overhead beams. His red eyes narrowed, and the rings along his body glowed faintly as he crouched low.

From Gary's side came a sharp bark and a flash of orange.

Growlithe.

Muscular, well-groomed, and ready.

Austin's eyes narrowed, watching Vee closely not for what he was doing, but what he wasn't. No bristling fur. No tension in his muscles. No instinctive step back.

Vee wasn't intimidated. Not even a flicker of hesitation. Which meant one thing. Growlithe's ability must be Flash Fire, Austin thought. He didn't need to hear Lily and Violet's commentary from the booth above... their voices felt like distant fog now. He was already mapping out his plan.

Then the whistle blew.

"Sunny Day!" Gary barked.

Growlithe threw its head back and howled. A glowing orb shot upward, crackling with golden heat, and exploded above the field like a miniature sun. The thick, humid air instantly changed. Mud hissed and dried beneath its light, steam curling up from the battlefield as the terrain hardened into cracked, sun-baked earth.

Austin didn't flinch. "Confuse Ray."

Vee's red eyes narrowed. The central ring along his forehead pulsed, then glowed with eerie multicolor light. A beam of distorted, prism-like energy arced across the field and struck Growlithe square in the chest.

The Fire-type stumbled, blinking wildly as its legs wobbled beneath it. The once-disciplined movement devolved into an awkward, staggering trot like a puppy learning how to walk on ice.

"Quick Whips!" Austin went for a combo move.

Vee blurred forward in a streak of silver light, his form flickering with the speed of Quick Attack. But instead of striking head-on, he began weaving in and out around Growlithe, his sleek tail whipping the Fire-type's flank again and again with sharp cracks. The confusion made Growlithe unable to predict or dodge the hits, its body tensing and muscles slackening as its defenses dropped.

"Flame Wheel!" Gary countered.

Growlithe gritted its fangs and suddenly righted itself mid-stumble, its fur igniting in a spiral of flame. The confusion was overwhelmed by pure instinct as it roared forward, a fiery blur cutting across the sun-scorched mud.

"Hidden Power!"

Umbreon skidded to a stop and lowered his head. A silver orb formed between his teeth, pulsing with strange energy. He launched it at the ground where it detonated with a concussive boom, releasing an omni-directional shockwave of dark-tinted force.

The moment the wave collided with Growlithe's Flame Wheel, something changed.

The flames flared violently... no longer orange, but blue. The wheel exploded forward, faster, hotter.

Austin's eyes widened. That's not Flash Fire. That's something else.

The blue flames tore through the shadow burst and slammed into Vee, launching him back.

"Fire Fang!" Gary roared before the dust could even settle, as Growlithe leapt through the aftermath with fangs bared, its mouth glowing with cerulean fire.

Growlithe clamped down into Vee's nape, biting deep, blue fire surging along its jaw.

Umbreon let out a pained snarl, his paws dragging against the dirt as his legs locked from the shock.

"Vee!" Austin shouted, already reaching for his next command when Vee's eyes snapped open and did something Austin hadn't trained him to do.

A deep, growling power surged in Vee's throat. With a sudden lurch, he opened his mouth wide and roared. Rings of deep purple and black-red energy exploded outward, distorting the air around them. The sound alone rattled the air like a shockwave.

Growlithe was blasted off his body, rolling back in a trail of scorched earth.

The referee's whistle blew loud and sharp. "Illegal move!" the announcer's voice rang through the arena. "Umbreon has used a fifth move... resulting in a penalty!"

Austin stared in stunned silence.

In the commentary box above, Lily's voice cracked in with concern. "Oh no! It looks like Austin's Umbreon accidentally activated a fifth move mid-fight. That's a rules infraction."

Violet followed. "Yeah, probably an emotional response... poor thing was in real pain. That was definitely Snarl, which sharply lowers Special Attack and deals Dark-type damage."

"Which triggers Justified," Lily added. "Growlithe's Hidden Ability! Its Attack rises when it's hit by Dark-type moves!"

The referee stepped in front of him, holding a red penalty card. "You have two options," he said firmly. "Withdraw Umbreon now… or allow Growlithe one uncontested strike."

The arena buzzed with tension. The heat of Sunny Day still baked the air.

Austin's mind whirled. Pull out Vee and give Gary a clean shot in the finals… or risk it all on a hit that could knock Vee out completely, especially with Growlithe now powered up.

"Damn it," Austin hissed.

The commentators kept going, laying out the stakes for the crowd. For him. It felt like the world was spinning faster, pressing in until a voice cut through.

"Umbreon!"

Austin snapped his gaze to Vee.

The moonlight Pokémon stood—shaky, bruised, but proud. He gave Austin a nod. A fire in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

Austin blinked… and smiled. "I forget how much of a tough bastard you are, Vee." He turned to the ref. "Let Growlithe take the shot."

The crowd gasped.

Gary's grin sharpened like a blade. "Flamethrower!"

Growlithe inhaled deeply, then unleashed a wide arc of blazing, sun-fueled fire straight at Vee.

Umbreon lowered his stance. The fire hit—engulfing him in red-orange flames and then, from inside the inferno, he moved. Charging through the flames, body burning, using the fire itself as cover, Vee turned into a bullet of glowing speed. Quick Attack, cloaked in agony and defiance.

CRASH!

He slammed into Growlithe mid-stream, the impact sending the Fire-type skidding back through a newly hardened patch of earth.

Both Pokémon collapsed at once... Growlithe struggling to rise, Vee already down.

The referee raised a flag. "Umbreon is unable to battle!"

Austin clenched his jaw, returning Vee to his ball with quiet hands. "I'm sorry for the sloppy play," he muttered. "We'll make it up to you."

He looked up across the field. One loss. But the battle wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

Austin said nothing as he tossed the Poké Ball. The rage storming behind his eyes spoke louder than words.

In a burst of light, Spearow landed hard on the battlefield—not in the air, but with both clawed feet planted in the baked mud. His feathers were ruffled, not from wind, but from instinct. His wings spread slightly, twitching with anticipation. He looked back once and locked eyes with Austin.

"I want you to crush him."

Spearow nodded.

The referee's whistle split the air.

"Flame Wheel!" Gary called, doubling down on his powered-up Growlithe. The Fire-type howled and spun into a blue-flamed tornado, charging forward like a burning comet.

"Aerial Wing."

Spearow launched forward—not soaring, but sprinting claws tearing across the cracked terrain, wings glowing like sharpened steel blades. Aerial Ace surged through his muscles as he picked up blistering speed, and the glow of Steel Wing gave his movements a slicing edge.

The two Pokémon collided mid-field but there was no struggle.

There was impact.

Spearow hit hard, talons gripping the ground, body low and coiled like a spring. He rammed through Growlithe's spinning flame, absorbing the heat with a screech of pain but never slowing. The collision sent Growlithe flying, blue embers trailing from its fur as it crashed into the wall beneath Gary's podium with a heavy thud. The Fire-type struggled to get up… but it was too late. Vee's tail whips had lowered his defenses. Spearow had shattered it.

"Growlithe is unable to battle!" the referee called.

Gary returned his partner wordlessly. "Strong," he muttered, barely audible. His eyes narrowed.

Then he threw out his second Poké Ball, releasing an Abra.

The moment it materialized, it raised one finger toward Spearow. The middle one.

Austin blinked. "…Alright, I like this one."

Spearow didn't laugh. He looked like he wanted to kill the psychic type.

The whistle blew.

"Aerial Ace!" Austin barked.

"Teleport," came Gary's calm response.

Spearow darted forward in a blur, but pop—Abra vanished just as Spearow's wing carved through the air where it had been. He reappeared five meters away, seated like a monk, expression unreadable.

Austin's eyes narrowed. Is he trying to tire us out?

"Hidden Power!"

Spearow skidded to a halt and released an orb of swirling fire, intensified by the still-blazing Sunny Day. The orb exploded mid-air, sending an omnidirectional pulse of flame across the arena. But before it could hit, a green shield shimmered into existence around Abra. The flames broke harmlessly around the edges.

Austin clenched his teeth. He's using Protect too... but he didn't even call the move. And then it clicked. Gary is letting Abra read his thoughts, the boy concluded, gazing upon Abra since it was doing nothing, just... calm.

"Calm Mind," Austin whispered.

Abra's body glowed faintly, a tranquil hum echoing in the air as its mind sharpened, power growing more refined by the second.

"Break it. Aerial Wing!"

Spearow didn't wait. He surged forward, wings like steel sabers, body low. He tore through the hardened mud, each stride heavy, clawed feet kicking up stone as he closed the gap.

He hit the Protect barrier hard, cracking it with the force of a battering ram. But Abra teleported again, vanishing in a flicker and reappearing behind him.

Electricity sparked across its fist. Thunder Punch.

"Behind!"

But Spearow already knew.

He twisted, bringing up his wing just in time. Steel Wing met the punch midair, but lightning danced across the feathers, searing into him. The hit hurt, but Spearow held firm. He ground his claws into the dirt, and his glare burned.

Austin didn't hesitate. "Assurance!"

A black aura erupted from Spearow's claws. Before Abra could teleport again, Spearow lunged like a fighting rooster in the pit, slamming his beak into Abra's chest, then gripping the psychic type by the neck.

BAM!

He drove Abra into the ground. Dust exploded upward in a choking plume.

Gary's voice finally rang out. "Thunder Punch!"

Still crackling with power, Abra obeyed, landing a desperate, sparking punch against Spearow's side.

Spearow snarled. The electricity arced through him, but he held on.

"Again!"

Another Assurance. Another shockwave. Both Pokémon were engulfed in the thick dust cloud as the crowd fell silent. Then the dust cleared.

Abra lay limp, eyes spinning.

Spearow stood over him… and collapsed.

The whistle blew. "Both Pokémon are unable to battle!"

The crowd erupted in a roar.

Austin quietly returned Spearow, eyes low. "You fought like a demon," he whispered. "Exactly what I expected."

The battlefield was cracked. Scorched. Mud turned to clay, then to dust under the relentless sun.

Austin and Gary stood at opposite ends, eyes locked, breaths steady, hands clenched around their final Poké Balls. This was it. They didn't say a word. Their hands moved as one.

Two Poké Balls flew through the air like twin comets, bursting open mid-arc with a flash of light and electric tension.

Rattata landed light on her paws, small. The Quick Claw around her neck shimmered faintly like a loaded trigger.

On the other side: Nidoqueen.

She landed with a tremor. Towering. Immense. Her hide glistened under the false sun of Sunny Day, each exhale a plume of heat. The cracked battlefield groaned beneath her weight.

Austin's heart sank, just a bit. That's a final-stage powerhouse. But then Rattata glanced back, her eyes gleaming. No fear. Just fire. "Let's dance."

The whistle blew.

"Superpower!" Gary commanded.

Nidoqueen's body ignited with blue aura, every muscle flexing, expanding. She roared and charged, each step a quake.

"Quick Attack, dodge, move!"

Rattata became a blur, Quick Claw flashing as she zipped between Nidoqueen's feet, dashing across the baked mud with needlepoint precision. Nidoqueen's Superpower slammed into the ground just behind her in a BOOM, blowing chunks of earth skyward.

"Use the debris!" Austin snapped. "Sword Strike!"

Rattata shot up the broken slabs of earth like a gymnast on a crumbling staircase. She launched herself high, tail glowing silver, body twisting midair in a graceful arc.

"Skull Bash!" Gary shouted.

Nidoqueen's head dropped, her thick skull drawing back and glowing white.

Austin's eyes widened. Shit!

Too late.

Nidoqueen's head slammed upward into Rattata—a perfect uppercut. The mouse was flung back like a ragdoll, spinning midair before hitting the ground with a painful thud. She bounced once… and landed hard. But she stood up. Barely. Blood in her teeth, breath ragged.

Austin winced. "How bad?"

She didn't look back. Didn't need to.

Austin exhaled. "Keep moving. Don't let her set up."

"Focus Punch!" Gary barked.

Nidoqueen drew one arm back, her entire body going still as golden aura gathered around her fist.

Charging it.

"Sword Strike!"

Rattata blurred again, her Quick Claw triggering as she circled Nidoqueen in rapid arcs, tail flashing silver. One hit. Two. Three. She danced across the battlefield, pummeling from every angle like a hornet with knives.

But Nidoqueen was locked in.

CRACK!

A perfect strike to the jaw.

Nidoqueen's punch fizzled, and her body staggered. Focus Punch, disrupted.

But Austin's eyes narrowed. It's not enough.

Rattata skidded to a stop, panting hard. Purple light sparked across her body.

She had been poisoned by Nidoqueen's Poison Point.

"Oh no..." He looked at her—his scrappy little survivor—and felt the words rise in his throat. "…We've done enough," he muttered. "Let's take this loss and go. We got what we came for. You proved enough."

Whap.

Austin blinked.

Pikachu had smacked his ankle with his tail.

The electric mouse pointed toward the battlefield. Rattata—bruised, poisoned, panting—was still on her feet. She didn't even glance back. She didn't need to. Austin exhaled, heart thudding. She's not done. Not even close.

"All those nights training… all those days we pushed past our limit…" he muttered. "You're right."

He raised his voice.

"Rattata!"

She turned slightly, eye gleaming.

"How bad do you want to win this?"

"Rat-TATA!" she screamed.

Gary smirked. "Earth Power!"

Nidoqueen raised both arms. The ground shook. Cracks spiderwebbed from beneath her feet as molten energy surged upward.

"Quick Attack!" Austin barked.

Rattata barely dodged, skimming across the ground in a silver streak as pillars of molten stone erupted behind her like geysers. But she was glowing.

Evolution.

White light consumed her, bright enough to blind. Her body grew. Legs longer. Claws thicker. Muscles surged under her fur. Her tail lengthened, her jaw sharpened, her stance dropped low—heavy, anchored. The light shattered. Raticate was able to dodge the Earth Power.

"Superpower!"

"Sucker Punch!" Austin called as he saw the faint red aura surround his little lady, burning like embers—indicating that Guts was activated. She disappeared and reappeared at Nidoqueen's side with a pitch-black fist, slamming into the opponent's jaw. The queen staggered, head snapping sideways.

"Don't stop!" Austin roared. "Assurance!"

Claws glowing with dark energy, Raticate swerved low and slashed Nidoqueen's belly, then leapt, spun, and whipped her tail across her shoulder—Iron Tail following up.

Gary clenched his fists. "Skull Bash!"

Nidoqueen's skull glowed again, she lunged. Too close. She headbutted Raticate clean in the chest—the rodent's breath flew from her lungs as she hit the ground hard. But she didn't stay down.

"Sucker Punch again!"

She flashed through shadows and slammed into Nidoqueen's side, knocking her back.

"Earth Power!"

The ground exploded under Raticate's feet. She was launched upward in a cascade of stone and fire, her body spinning.

"Sword Strike!" Austin's voice rang out like a war cry.

Raticate twisted mid-air, body coiled like a blade. Her tail gleamed in silver light, while the Quick Claw around her neck flashed with a crack of energy, igniting her form in a blur of motion.

She dove like a falling star. But Nidoqueen didn't flinch. She stood her ground, bruised and burning, eyes narrowed in complete focus. The yellowish aura of Focus Punch engulfed her again as she coiled her fist for one last, earth-splitting punch.

This was it.

Neither was backing down.

Both had someone to win for.

And in that breathless, electric moment… Raticate made a choice.

She melted into the shadows below and then reappeared beneath Nidoqueen's guard.

The perfect counter. The Quick Claw sparked. Guts burned through the poison. And all that power, all that pain, was funneled into one final strike.

At the exact same instant Nidoqueen's fist collided with Raticate's stomach, Focus Punch detonating on contact and the force cracked the floor beneath them.

Raticate's claw slashed across Nidoqueen's face. The shockwave ripped through the battlefield like a cannon blast.

Austin sprinted forward just in time to catch Raticate as she spiraled backward through the air. The impact knocked him flat on his back, grunting as his spine hit the ground with a dull thud.

Raticate lay limp in his arms. "…Hey," he whispered, eyes clenched. "Looks like I'm buying you more shampoo for that ridiculous hair."

She didn't respond. He smiled softly and returned her to her Poké Ball.

"Both Raticate and Nidoqueen are unable to battle!" the referee declared.

Lily's voice rang out from the booth, practically vibrating with excitement. "That means… this tournament ends in a draw!"

"Both trainers win!" Violet followed. "Austin and Gary Oak!"

The crowd erupted. Cheers shook the gym. Spotlights flared, banners dropped. Confetti began to rain down from above.

Austin chuckled quietly, still on one knee. "I really thought he had it…"

But as he stood up, brushing the dirt off his pants, he caught sight of movement.

Gary.

Already turning away, walking off the battlefield toward the side hallway. Not smiling. Just leaving.

"...What the hell?" Austin muttered, jogging after him.

---

"Oi! Gary!" Austin called as he caught up. "Where you going?"

Gary didn't stop walking. "Pokémon Center."

Austin frowned. "Yeah, I know. But dude, we've got people for that. They'll take your Pokémon in for you. We've got a ceremony to attend. Winner's prize. Photos. Confetti. You're gonna let me soak all that in alone?"

Gary slowed… but didn't turn.

Austin added, "I think we should split the prize."

"You can keep it," Gary muttered. "I don't want it."

Austin narrowed his eyes. "Alright, what's up? You seem… off."

Gary finally turned and the look on his face wasn't angry. It wasn't smug. It was confused. "You're what's off."

"Excuse me?"

Gary stepped closer, voice quieter now. "You didn't rise to my taunts. Not once. During the battle, you weren't freestyling like usual, you were planning. Mapping things out. And when your plans didn't work, you froze. You didn't feel like Ash."

Austin said nothing.

Gary went on, eyes scanning his old friend. "I thought this 'Austin' thing was just some edgy nickname. Something to impress Misty or Violet or—whoever. But now… now I'm not sure." His voice dropped. "Are you even the same person I grew up with?"

The hallway was quiet.

And Austin, for a rare moment, didn't dodge the question. "You remember how our rivalry started?"

Gary blinked. "Yeah. You and I fought after I broke your dad's GS Ball. You swore you'd beat me someday. And I said we'd see who was better in the League."

Austin chuckled softly and thought. Right. That's not how it happened on TV, but sure. Close enough.

Austin exhaled. "Let's just say I've… seen a lot. Lived through a lot. More than you'd believe. So, yeah... the Ash you knew? He's not exactly the one standing in front of you right now."

Silence stretched between them.

Gary's voice softened, hesitant. "So… what about our rivalry?"

Austin looked at him. And remembered every moment of that battle: the taunts, the growth, the pride in Gary's voice even as he fell short.

He smiled.

"It's still on," Austin said. "I'm still going to beat you in the League. And I'm still getting that GS Ball back."

Gary blinked and suddenly rubbed at his eyes, quickly turning away.

"Geez," he muttered. "Dust or something…"

Then he spun back around and just like that, the arrogance was back.

"Like that's ever gonna happen!" he snapped. "You think you're on my level? Ha! I wasn't even using my strongest Pokémon!"

Austin grinned. "Then I look forward to facing your best."

He turned, heading back toward the gym doors. "But for now… we've got a crowd waiting. You coming?"

Gary nodded, falling into step beside him.

"…Also," Austin added, smirking. "I'm taking seventy percent of the prize money because I had to listen to your emotional monologue."

Gary gave him a sideways glare. "Seriously?"

"What? I'm a high-value man, Gary."

Austin opened the door, basking in the sound of cheers.

"I'm just messing with you," he added. "You earned half. Fair and square."

Gary bumped his shoulder as they stepped through the doors. "Don't let it get to your head. Next time, I'm taking all of it."

Austin grinned. "Looking forward to it…" He paused. "...Gary-bear."

Gary choked. "You better be… Trash-tin."

"Really?"

Gary scowled. "Shut up, I'll find a better nickname to insult your nickname. Just give me time."

Austin smirked. "Take all the time you need, Palet-Town's Number Two."

Gary's eye twitched. "You're lucky we're walking into a crowd right now."

---

Looking forward to hearing your thoughts! (If you're eager to read ahead, you can check out early chapters over on Patreon!)


Let me know what you thought of this chapter—your feedback keeps me going and inspires new ideas. Thank you all for being part of this journey! You've been amazing readers, and I'm so grateful for your support.

Until next time,
—Adamo Amet

 

[Lillie Jones]

Covering a lot of ground here with Ash Ketchum vs Damien Mason battle in Cerulean City Tournament, which Damien Mason is still bastard trainer we love to hate after Ash Ketchum makes Damien an offer he can't refuse about Damien abusing his Pokémon with OPed TMs .
As Austin asked a interesting question about why Charizard is classified as Fire type instead of a pure dragon is debatable a according the Professor Oak Austin isn't first person to ask that question ( apparently if looks like a dragon, its not a pure dragon most of the time?)HAHA!
Unfortunately, Ash Ketchum battle against rivial Gary Oak wasn't living up OG Ash Ketchum loud mouth reputation during their 3 vs 3 Pokémon match with Rattatta evolution into Raticate was surprising upset with defeating and rest of his Pokémon.
Although, what ticked Gary Oak off wasn't the battle but Ash Ketchum usual taunts weren't the same as before, which Austin comes up with a reasonable excuse ( Thank God Ashy boy, dodged another bullet again).
Guessing their Pokémon rivalry is still one after they Pokémon rivials Ash and Gary Oak cleared the air and made up at the Cerulean City Gym.
The Journey continues
Cheers!