It had taken two months, a small fortune in fire retardant clothes, fire retardant spray, fire extinguishers, new smoke detectors, a sprinkler system, three separate hoses, an up-to-date alarm system, and her twenty-third birthday wish to convince her arsonphobic older brother Ken to adopt her cyndaquil.

Now everyone's most likely wondering who would go through so much trouble to get rid of a fire-type pokémon that would be, no doubt, a great asset to a trainer once it evolved into a typhlosion. Well, she liked her water-types, and their father was a total and complete ass, trying to convince her to follow in his footsteps, telling her that fire was the way to go as he sneered at his one and only son that broke into a cold sweat whenever he saw a lighter clicking to life, telling her that water was a weak type, and that she was best doing what he had begun… till he had a son.

Their dad had even gone far enough to take her squirtle and try to trade it off for a charmander! If it hadn't been for her brother, she would never have seen Aqua again. Not that their dad hadn't punished him for having the audacity to take the pokéball from his hands and toss it back at her, telling her to run and hide it.

No, he had carried the bruises of that experience for two weeks afterwards, and she knew that she would never be able to repay him for that.

But that was beside the point.

On her twenty-second birthday, far away from home, living next door to her beloved big brother, who showed up at the party but their dad? And, oh, look, he had a pokéball. A strong pokémon, you say? Let me guess, it's a…

Fire-type.

She didn't have anything against the cyndaquil, even admitting to herself that the little guy was cute, but he just wouldn't fit in with her. She knew there would be advantages to having a fire-type when she only had water-types, but even that stroke of knowledge was not enough to make it feel right to take the cyndaquil on adventures with her.

He was so… fiery.

Her brother, on the other hand, could use some companionship. He had grown up with the bone-deep resolve to be absolutely nothing like their dad, and, as soon as he had been able to, he had gotten into college and worked especially hard to become a grade school teacher where he could teach young, impressionable children the joys of reading and writing.

She had gone to his class once, a few months back, and had been completely awed by how much the children adored him, hanging onto his every word. She had never seen so many kids stay behind after class before of their own free will! She hadn't even thought it possible. When she had been in grade school, the last bell had been the sweetest sound in the world.

His pupils aside, she never saw him mingle with other people. Her visits were the only ones made to his small house, and she made sure to visit at least three times a week when she was home, but, sometimes, she wasn't. She could be gone for months at a time, off training water pokémon and consulting with nurse Joys and other trainers about how best to treat their water-types.

So, her reasoning for pushing the little pokémon on him had come with a variety of reasons, aside from being selfish.

It was just more difficult to do so because, again, Ken, her big brother who had taken hit after hit from their dad, who had been bullied all throughout middle and high school for being a scrawny nerd and had never once shed a tear or begged for mercy, had a terrible, irrational fear of fire.

Her mother, when she had been alive, had once told her the story of how their dad had lit a match too close to Ken's face, trying to make it sound like an accident, covering for the man she had loved with all her heart, but they both knew the truth. Their dad didn't smoke, and nothing he ever did was an 'accident'.

It had explained the small burn on her big brother's cheek, but he had only been a few months old at the time and she couldn't help think that there was no way he still remembered that. Then again, maybe it wasn't the last time their dad got too close to him with a match.

She had never asked and he had never told, continuing to wear his button-downs with the collars high and the sleeves never rolled up.

The more she thought about it, the guiltier she felt.

Eventually, though, especially after she told him her wish that the cyndaquil would go to a nice, warm home somewhere very nearby with someone she trusted with all her heart so that she would know he was safe and cared for… and, oh, that someone was him –

He had given in, looking pale and shaky all the while, but she had told herself, repeatedly, that he would be okay. That he had always been brave and that he would defeat his fears. If he didn't, she had told herself that she would take the cyndaquil back. She had to go a half-year trip to the Cinnibar Islands, which, she thought was more than enough time for him to decide if he could handle his new friend or not.

All the while, she would look for potential adopters… just in case. She had even given him permission to put the cyndaquil in the nearest adoption center if he couldn't wait till she got back, but both options were last resorts.

Even if she wasn't into fire-types, and it had been their dad to give her the cyndaquil, it had still been given to her and she didn't want anything bad to happen to it.

She had stayed in his house with him for two days first, helping to calm him down from full-blown panic attacks till he could see the cyndaquil out of the corner of his eye and not immediately start hyperventilating. She felt pretty good that, by the second night, the cyndaquil had seemingly already attached itself to its new home, though his new master's fear seemed to also make it afraid.

"You're going to have to calm down around it if you want it to calm down," she had told her big brother. "I love you, big brother. Be safe." And then, heart heavy and mind full of all the things that could go wrong, she left.

And, now, she was back, and her hands were shaking as she ignored her own home and swung open her big brother's front door, knowing from experience it wouldn't be locked.

"I'm home!" she cried out with fake joy, hardly able to breathe. For the first three months, she and Ken had kept in good contact over the phone and he had told her that maybe, just maybe, he could get used to the fire-type, though he was still admittedly scared. Then, nothing. She hadn't been able to get a hold of him and, when she had called up the neighbor on the other side of him to please, please, please check up on him, the neighbor had said that no one was apparently home.

She ran through the living room, noted the two scorch marks in one corner of the room just above a small nest of blankets, and crashed into the kitchen where a few glass ornaments that had been there before her trip were now missing. Still no sign of her big brother and she was really starting to hate herself for not doing something else with the cyndaquil.

Then, unexpectedly, she heard a very faint noise, so very faint, and she stopped breathing, listening… Listening.

It happened again, just a little bit louder, and her heart squeezed. That was her big brother! That was her big brother… chuckling?

She raced up the stairs, taking them two by two as everyone in her family seemed gifted with incredibly long legs, and all but threw herself against Ken's bedroom door.

Shoving it in, she took in the scene before her with wild, worried eyes.

Ken's wooden dresser was to one side of his closet while a set of hanging hooks were on the other, one item per each hook, three hooks per each bar, four different bars, and the bedside table was unexpectedly missing a leg, using a long wooden block as a replacement, while the lamp that had been on top of it was strangely missing. The glossy oak floor had a few burn holes in it that she didn't remember it having and there was a faint, smoky smell that reminded her of their dad.

The bed, however, was in one piece, though the bed set was different. Her big brother's favorite three-sheet set with the white quilt had been replaced with a blue comforter while the pillow casings were a deep, passionate red.

Upon closer inspection, she realized that, while the bed seemed to have improved, the footrest had gained some deep scars and the headrest looked as if something had been gnawing on it.

And then there was her big brother, sitting in the center of his bed with magicarp jerky dangling from his fingertips.

"You're back early," was the first thing he said, as if he didn't realize just how stressed out she was, and the cyndaquil that had startled at her abrupt entrance went back to eyeballing the jerky hungrily from its sitting position against the footrest.

It was the first time in her life she had ever considered choking her big brother to death.

"I see you two are getting along," she heard her voice say, though what was going through her mind went above and beyond inappropriate for young ears and she decided that cyndaquils counted in that respect. "So, uh, how's that arsonphobia going?"

He looked from her to the cyndaquil. "I'm still afraid, but…" He brought the jerky closer and the cyndaquil nabbed at it, chowing it down and making it disappear before she could even blink. With a heart-warming chuckle, he ran his hand down the pokémon's back, over the enlarged, modified, fire-spewing pores that he should have been terrified of. "Not of him," he finished lightly. "I was afraid of him but then it was so ridiculous because he's so… so… Well, look at him, Fi."

"He can still cause a lot of damage," she said before she could stop herself, and instantly hated herself for it. Who was she to make him feel uncomfortable?

He shook his head, smiling. "Not to me. I don't think Haward can hurt me."

Haward. He would pick a geeky name like that. It made her shudder. All of her pokémon had cool names – like Aqua and Dale and Ken…

Yeah, she named her quagsire after her big brother. It had been unavoidable, really.

She brushed it off, though. "So it's a boy?"

"Yeah. Haward's a boy."

She leered at him. "How'd you figure that out?"

His returning glance was equally mischievous. "Nurse Joy told me."

She paused, not sure if they were playing or not. "Why was Nurse Joy here…?" Did something happen that she didn't know about?

"She wasn't here."

"Oh."

"We were at the hospital."

"Why?"

He stroked Haward's head, earning an affectionate lick on the wrist. "Did you know that fire-types are very perceptible to colds that can quickly develop into hypothermia if not instantly taken care of?"

"Well… I guess that might be common knowledge. They are fire-types."

He looked suddenly sheepish. "Did you know you're not supposed to give fire-types baths?"

She held up both hands, one for silence and the other to signify that she had retreated deep into her mind where a backup source of patience lied for moments like these. "I'm not sure whether or not to be proud that you managed to get a fire-type into water without being burned to a crisp, even prouder that you came over your fear of being burned to a crisp to do so, or if I should just flip out on you and have your teaching license revoked." She rubbed her temples as he looked dejectedly away. "I suppose, though, that if it brought you two closer together and you know better now, that I can forgive it. I mean, not all fire-type pokémon have their fires extinguished in water and don't survive. Some fire-type pokémon even enjoy a sauna or two every once in awhile. Of course, they like their water blistering hot, and I'm sure you made the bath really, really hot, right?"

Because her big brother was a freak who liked his waters fairly cool no matter the time of year, as if he was even afraid of catching fire in the shower.

His greater look of guilt let her know that Haward's bath hadn't been warm at all.

Haward, however, as this conversation was going on, seemed to get agitated. Either he didn't like the tone of her voice, how she stood there, or how his master was reacting to her, because, all of a sudden, the only noise in the room was the squeaky, enraged roars of a tiny pokémon who flared his black flames and tried to glare at her.

Haward stood on his back legs, front legs spread open, and bared his tiny undeveloped teeth at her.

She had studied enough pokémon, though none of them fire-type, to know that Haward had claimed this room as his territory and, as a visitor, she was now being told, none too kindly, to get out before he attacked. He was trying to look intimidating, larger than he was, and she honestly thought she was going to have to kick the tiny little thing out the window for his fire display.

A look at Ken, however, and she was shell shocked.

He didn't back away. He didn't start hyperventilating either. He just chuckled, as if Haward's display of dominance was cute to him, and put his hand on Haward's back, right over the jetting flames.

He didn't burn.

She knew what that meant: fire-type pokémon could, in essence, put their mark on a few special people that somehow altered something so that those few special people weren't burned by their flames.

And Ken wasn't burning.

She had no doubt, though, that if she were to do the same thing, it would hurt like nothing else in the world could, and she took a careful two steps back. "You know what? Whatever you two did, it worked out great."

She felt a sense of relief that touched her to her innermost core. Her big brother had a companion now, a very loyal one by the looks of it, and he was happy. That was all that mattered to her, that he was truly and altogether happy.

"Any plans now?" she asked, not wanting to leave yet. After twenty-three years of watching her big brother freeze with terror at the sight of flames, even unable to watch the fireworks go off every New Year's, this was like a whoa moment. Nothing had ever mattered before this.

"I want to bring him into class so that the children can see him."

"Classroom pet?"

"Some of their families don't have any pokémon," he reasoned factually. "I want them to have that experience."

"Haward, the teacher's pet." She rolled her eyes and grinned. "It fits perfectly."

Haward, seeing that the atmosphere had calmed, also calmed. The flames extinguished themselves and he settled back into his master's hand, making small, joyful sounds as he wiggled his small feet. Ken dropped another piece of jerky into his mouth and Haward squealed with glee.

Feeling better about having left the cyndaquil with him now, she pushed off the door and left them alone. "See you later, big brother!"

He called back a brief farewell.

At the front door, she heard him laugh and her chest tightened inexplicably.

The last time she had heard him laugh, it had been with relief at his graduation when she had told him that their dad wasn't coming. Holding the sound close to her heart, she left her big brother's house and returned to her own.

He would be okay now. That, she knew for a fact.

:::

She walked through her big brother's front door, took in the living room with its one missing makeshift nest in the corner, and smirked.

Haward had won out in the end. Of course, her big brother had only reluctantly told her that Haward often 'somehow' found a way into his room at night and slept under the covers with him. Ken had been 'trying', apparently, to break him of the habit and keeping him to his own nest.

Ken, apparently, didn't have the resolve that Haward did, and she hummed happily to herself all the way up the stairs to her big brother's bedroom.

The sight before her startled her.

"Big brother… What are you doing?"

He waved her away as if she was a pesky fly. "Ssshhh…" His eyes were on Haward, watching him expectantly.

Haward had gone very still upon her entrance, looking wildly between her and his master. Slowly, as if unnerved by her presence, he stuttered.

"It's okay," Ken crooned to him, petting a hand over his long head. "You're doing great, it's okay, don't be afraid…"

She studied the book placed in front of Ken, a large, red A printed on one page and an equally large blue B on the opposing page. "Please tell me you've forgotten your ABC's," she said exasperatedly.

He gave her a dark look through his reading glasses that told her he did not find her the least beast funny.

"Cynd… Nd… Nd!" Haward flapped his upper legs like a bird. "Nd!"

Ken exaggerated the motion of his lips as he responded back, "B."

"Nd!"

"B."

"D!"

"He seems a little ahead of you," she drawled unhelpfully.

Her big brother made another swatting motion. "B," he said again, softly, and Haward looked at him as if he was causing him great pain. Ken sighed and leaned back. A piece of jerky appeared in his hand and Haward's expression changed immediately to joy.

She coughed into her hand as Haward gobbled the piece up. "Whipped."

Ken frowned at her. "Any good teacher knows to reward a hardworking student." He shifted a little uncomfortably. "Even if said hardworking student isn't getting good grades."

"Ouch, Mr. Coalson."

"He's learning fast, though," he stated, voice full of conviction. "He understands most of what I say to him."

"So you're teaching him how to understand human speech?" That wasn't too farfetched. A fair number of trainers did that. Some pokémon already understood fragments of human speech, possibly due to the commands they obeyed. There were even other pokémon, like the lapras, that completely understood human speech.

"First, understanding," Ken whispered excitedly. "Then, practice. I plan on having him reading before I die of old age. Well, that was the plan. But, like I was saying, he's a fast learner, so he might be reading small children's stories by the time I hit fifty…"

"Let's not get our hopes up," she countered dryly.

It didn't even surprise her that her big brother was doing this. It wouldn't be impossible to do, per say. She heard tales of a Team Rock pokémon that could fluently speak, read, and understand English. Though that had been a meowth and their mouths and tongues were better formed to articulate the human dialect. She wasn't sure if it came down to brain capacities on this one, but she was thinking that the cyndaquil didn't exactly have the brain cells to learn such a complicated language.

She decided to just leave it to her brother. If he could do it, then he could do it. If he couldn't… Well, he would say to his grave that he had tried and she knew him well enough to know without a doubt that he would always treat Haward like a little genius.

Ken gave her another sour look before putting his complete attention on Haward. Under his master's kind, green gaze, Haward stood proudly on his hind legs and puffed out his chest.

"B," Ken articulated.

"D!" Haward shouted happily back.

"Why are you here?" Ken asked abruptly, turning to her. "Not that I don't enjoy your visits…"

She held up her hands in defeat. "I just wanted to come by and say 'I love you'. And, whatever you want to do, I'm behind you one hundred percent of the way. If you want, I'll even try to teach him a few words."

What had been hope developing in his eyes quickly turned to suspicion. "Oh, really? What words would those be?"

He wisely put his hands over Haward's ear holes as she opened her mouth and a pile of filth came out, enough to make a machomp blush.

"Thank you, Fi, but I think we're good. Maybe you could go teach that foul language to your own pokémon."

"Are you suggesting that I teach my pokémon how to cuss?"

"If that will keep you from teaching Haward, then, yes. I'm sure, with you as their master, they wouldn't mind."

"You're cold, big brother. So cold." She came into the room, paused as Haward swung his head around to pin her down with a glare that was almost too cute to not smile at, and then continued to sit by her big brother's side.

With no respect for him and his big book of letters, she swung the pages till she came to the one letter she knew she could teach the cyndaquil, ignoring her brother's sulky presence.

And it wasn't D.

She traced the four lines that made the green letter, doing it until Haward curiously began tracing it himself. "K," she pronounced. Then, when Haward looked up at her, she pointed at Ken. "K."

Haward's eyes lit up like Christmas had just come to town. "Quil… Q-quil!"

"You just skipped a part of the alphabet. He can't learn like that, Fi, that just isn't ethical…"

"Shush, big brother. Wait for it."

Three minutes in, after many embarrassing attempts, Haward looked up at her big brother with an air around him of complete and utter determination. "K!"

"You might want to give him that jerky now," she crooned into her big brother's ear, gently snapped his mouth shut for him. "You're right. Hard work does deserve a treat." Before he could deny her, she grabbed a piece for herself and flounced off his bed. "I love you, big brother."

And, with that, she left.

At the front door, she paused, as had become customary for her to do, and she waited.

From above, there was another shout of "K!".

Then, unbelievably, gentle male laughter.

A single tear trickled down her smiling face. He would never laugh in front of her, but, just the sound of his happiness was enough for her. Haward made him happy.

It made her a little bit angry, considering where Haward had come from, meaning that, in some distant way, she owed her big brother's happiness to the man who had spent most of their lives making her big brother as unhappy as possible. Then again, maybe it was karma.

She chose not to think about it, lest it give her a headache, and quietly went back to her own home.

She was thinking about teaching Aqua a few curse words…

:::

She had to go out of town for three weeks to consult with a business friend of hers about a migration of gyrados.

When she came back, Haward met her at the door, chirping the ABC's as he closed the door behind her. She watched him in complete awe.

He was wearing the tiniest blue apron she had ever seen and he waddled off on all fours, careful not to trip on the apron, to the kitchen where she could hear her big brother humming to himself. It was a habit they both had, hers when she was excited and his when he was cooking.

She followed Haward and quietly sat down at the dining table, not alerting her big brother of her presence and Haward not thinking to either. Haward had a staircase of pulled-out drawers that he used to climb onto the counter with and, with a novice's inexperience but desire to learn, began patting at some sort of dough, trying to smooth out bumps while accidentally creating tears.

Ken chuckled as he saw this. "Haward, maybe you should try the cookie cutter…" he turned and saw her out of the corner of his eye. Startled, he jumped. "Arceus, Fi! When did you get here?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Long enough, big brother. Long enough." She smiled as she took in the sight of him, mousy brown hair with smears of white flour in it, a streak of the same white on his clean cheek, apron decorated yellow and white with different sorts of stains.

She grinned deviously. "Long enough to know that you like pink, anyway."

Ken looked down, saw the color of his apron, the Kiss the Cook slogan across the breast of it with the thick, red pursed lips at the end of it, and flushed red. "It was a gift," he stated, glaring at her and daring her not to believe him.

"The kids?" she guessed. Her smile grew at his curt nod. "They would get you that apron. Were they hoping you would cook in the classroom?"

"One of them did suggest bringing an EasyBake Oven."

"None of them thought of just using Haward to heat something up?"

He shifted on his feet. "I told them it would create too much smoke."

"Aaaah…" She crossed one leg over the other and leaned back against the table. Haward, despite his master's attempt to get him to stop, was still trying to smooth out the dough to perfection. She could hear the little cyndaquil still tweeting the ABC's to himself, over and over again, till all she could see in her mind was that damn letter book. "You know, I'm just going to say what I came here to say: I'm home, big brother. I love you, big brother. And, I recently met someone."

Ken raised a brow and a slow, easy smile curled his lips. "Oh, really? Do I get to beat someone up for thinking they're good enough for my little sister?"

It was her turn to laugh. "No, not that kind of 'met someone'. I mean, I met a trainer who would like to train Haward."

The atmosphere was suddenly very awkward.

"He doesn't want to take Haward," she clarified at his pained expression. "He's just always wanted to work with a cyndaquil or one of its evolutions. They are aggressive pokémon, big brother, if Haward trained, he would less of a danger to your house and…" remembering what he had said about Haward never harming him, she finished strongly, "your students."

The pain turned to speculation. He crouched down so he was level to Haward, who looked up from his studious task to stare back at his master.

"Would you like that, Haward? To train your powers and become a strong fighter?"

"He doesn't have to be a fighter," she interrupted. "He can stay here with you, learn how to understand, speak, read, cook, and whatever. It would just be best if he knew how to work his energy as time progresses.

He seemed relieved at that.

Haward looked from her to him and then back again. "… Ken?", he asked, sending her for a loop.

"He just said your name," she said dumbly.

"I know," Ken answered with a hint of bravado. "Your name was next in case there was an emergency." He took Haward in his arms and held him to his chest. "It's up to you, Haward. No matter what, you'll still be here with me, okay?"

Haward sighed, possibly because he understood and was relieved, or maybe because the close contact with his master put him at ease. "A, B, C, D, E…"

Ken laughed, and it was magical to watch his spring green eyes sparkle and his mouth open into a happy smile and he almost glowed as he laughed.

She found herself laughing too, though she had no clue why. Ken just had that ability.

"You have a very busy schedule ahead of you, Haward," Ken announced. "Between school and sports, you'll never stay up late again."

"I don't know," she said with heavy doubt and a big grin. "I managed pretty easily."

His dark look made her laugh again.

Arceus, she loved her big brother.