Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon

Four year old Henry Baxter stood with his little diploma in hand.

He had not yet graduated preschool, but he had graduated the 'junior trainer' class, meaning he could be a junior trainer now.

Preschoolers could go on Pokémon journeys now if someone ten or older or a pokemon accompanied them. All Henry had to do was get his mom to sign his diploma, giving him permission to go.

Mustering up the courage, he approached his mother, who was making Mac and cheese in the kitchen of their three bedroom apartment.

He tugged on her pant leg.

"Just a minute honey, I'm on the phone.", she said, not even glancing at the little boy.

His mother had green eyes and light blonde hair that was always in some strange hair do.

She also always wore light purple reading glasses on the tip of her nose.

Pouting, Henry went to play with his stuffed Happiny doll.

He loved Happy, the name he gave his stuffed pokemon.

Henry wanted to be a nurse when he grew up, but his ugly big sister, Beatrice, said only girls could be nurses.

Stupid Beatrice, and her stupid Squirtle.

Ever since they moved to Alola, she had been mean.

"We can be nurses if we want to, right Happy?", he asked the doll.

It didn't reply.

"I wish I could talk to real pokemon.", muttered Henry.

Unbeknownst to him, a certain pokemon had heard his wish, and was about to grant it.

A pokeball rolled off the island of the kitchen, and landed by him.

Henry picked it up.

Suddenly, a strange light surrounded his toy, and it started floating in the air.

The light got brighter, and Henry had to shield his eyes.

He dropped the pokeball to the floor.

When he opened his eyes again, there was a real Happiny instead of his toy.

"How'd you get here?", he whispered to the pink pokemon.

"I don't know, one minute Henry was talking to me, and now I can suddenly move. And apparently I can talk too. You sound a lot like Henry.", the little pokemon said with its eyes closed from the light that had surrounded it.

"You can talk!", shouted the amazed little boy.

"What was that sweetie? Who can talk?", called his mom from the kitchen.

Now, Henry was just four years old.

However, he knew pokemon normally didn't talk, so he had a feeling he shouldn't tell his mom what was happening.

"Nothing mommy, I was just playing with Happy!", he shouted back.

"That's great honey. Supper is almost ready, could you wash up?", his mom called from the kitchen.

"Yes, mommy!", he called.

He turned to Happy and put his finger to his lips.

"Shhh, this is our little secret.", he told the pokemon.

"Sir yes sir!", said Happy, holding her hand to her head in a salute, just like in the war games she and Henry played.

Henry walked out, and the tiny pink pokemon saw something gleam out of the corner of her eye.

The living room light reflected off the pokeball on the floor.

Happy walked over to the pokeball and saw her reflection staring back at her.

"I guess I'm not just a toy anymore.", she said to herself.

Then, she pressed the button on the pokeball, and was sucked in.

The only thing that could be heard in the small living room was the click of a pokemon being caught.