The path was clear and warm. No rain in sight, only clouds giving way for the speeding sun. It was just about perfect weather for a hiking trip!

… A few more battles wouldn't have hurt, though. Clavell just had to come in and start going on about how Haruto must've been tiredand needed a break. And they only fought once. Once! That's like getting tired after scoring one point! At the least she convinced Clavell to let them go on foot to school together. And he just nodded, happy to not do any work. In his usual director fashion.

So that's what they were doing! From Cabo Poco allll— the way to Naranja! She was excited, with her bags packed and sling pack stacked with some various knick-knacks. She was finally going to walk to Naranja on her own two feet and she had someone to do it with.

Her fresh rival new friend was intercepted by his mom, who came to give him something he'd forgotten. That something was a sandwich, judging by its looks. An…unusual looking sandwich. She wishes she could hear what they were saying, but she couldn't even place the language. Haruto's mom seemed the strict type, years of stress on her face. Weirdly enough it seemed that Haruto was the one badgering her about something. It went on for some time and they had a short, and almost tearful goodbye. All the excitement seemed to leave his eyes once she appeared next to him.

‟Your mom seems great, Haruto!"

‟…Sure," he said with half a mind.

‟Say, Haruto. Where did you move in from? I couldn't place your accent!"

‟Johto."

‟Wow! Johto! That's, uh…"

Johto!… Johto? What was in Johto again? Where…was it? ‟That's great! How is Johto anyways?!"

‟…It's normal."

‟…Normal, huh?"

A few awkward moments passed, ‟More normal than here."

She nodded, eyebrows furrowed. Haruto was being a bit strange. Almost like he didn't want to speak with her (but, that made no sense?). Maybe it was something in his breakfast… A mouth ulcer? Food poisoning? Pokérus? …Or, maybe he was saving his energy for when they got to Naranja?! Maybe; for their battle!?… Probably his breakfast. She had to be a guide-slash-teacher and make sure to make her pupil bear fruit. She had a job to do.

‟Well alright then. Let's go, vamos!"

She hurried to the entrance of Poco Path. The rookie and his Fuecoco were unimpressed. She couldn't guess which one was walking slower.

Call it rotten luck. Or call it premonition, but he, on that day, was struck, then stuck, with the weirdo; until they both reached the academy. Of course, all so she could 'show him the way' (the way being one dirt path) and 'teach him about pokémon battling' (like he'd want to know). But he had to bear with that overharsh ball of sunshine, freckles and ponytail towering over him and talking his ear off all… morning? Day? Getting to school shouldn't take that long, right?

‟All right!" she jumped in front of him, arms outstretched, ‟This here is Poco Path!"

Right outside of Cabo Poco, a thin valley opened up to a giant field of flowers, dancing to a gentle airy tune. Leafy trees and their thin branches made airy sounds like whistles off the sea. With spiders hanging off those whistling splits and piglets sniffing through those soft-hued flowers. He even caught a familiar sight with swarms of Hoppip, being carried by the wind.

‟…It's pretty big."

‟Is it?" She put her braced arm on her chin. ‟… Anyway. Out here, things are different than in town. You're gonna see all kinds of cute and…uh, crawly pokémon around. On the grass and even in the path and such!"

He looked up at her, unimpressed. He wasn't dumb.

‟What I'm saying is— you gotta be careful! Get too close to one of them and you'll have to battle! Don't worry, I'm here to help you if you ever bite off more than you can chew!"

Well, that was great to know. Except he didn't understand why he'd need help. Or why he'd 'have to battle'.

‟And if you want to catch a pokémon, you gotta use a good old poké ball! I've got tons. Have a few."

More like 5 poké balls were forced into his hands.

‟These should be enough for some practice throws. If you're lucky you might even get a catch!"

He tried to give them back, ‟I don't want them."

‟Oh, don't be like that! You never know when something you want'll show up!"

He grumbled. Luckily, poké balls shrunk to be less cumbersome. They landed in his shorts' pockets, along Fuecoco's ball. And then Skitter-Skattered around them something. A little round spider scuttled in circles, bumping into his guide's leg. And said guide jumped with a start and a yelp. Then turned to him from on top the grass along the path's edge.

‟A-Alright, Haruto! Time for some learning by doing. Try battling that Tarountula!"

He gave her a bit of side-eye. Battle? That? Him?

‟… Why?"

‟What do you mean 'why'?! It's dangerous! Look at its hairy legs—" and right as she said that Apple stomped forward to defend his trainer. His one set of eyes on the yarn-like spider's four.

‟Apple, calm down!"

His partner, missing a beat, turned to look at him, question mark over his face. Nemona did too. And actually; the little arthropod did as well. He was met with a full second of complete confusion, which he took advantage of. He stepped forward, over Apple's fire tuft, and crouched down next to that thread-ball spider. He wondered why everyone was so intent on battling it anyway. Sharing his confusion, the pokémon stared at and about his extended arm. The little thing seemed actually very confused about everything around, judging by its eight eyes tumbling over each other in search of everything at once. It was probably running wildly when it bumped into Nemona. Slowly, it gained the courage to skitter onto his arm, because he obviously meant no harm. He lifted it up.

‟H-Haruto!?" his partner eventually chided, with one arm over her chest and the other outstretched. Like this was the most dangerous thing they've done all day. Because being friendly with pokémon was surely more dangerous than fighting them.

‟Are there any trees around here?"

‟Huh? What's that got to—"

She talked a bit more, but he tuned her out. He found what he was looking for, in a nearby tree, and walked over just slow enough to keep his friend feeling safe. He passed the skydiving Hoppip's and stepped in between the family of piglets trying to find truffles under its roots. Let the Tarountula sit on his head and freed his arm. Then he started climbing, using the branches as footholds at first, but eventually resorting to swarming up the trunk up for the last foot. Heard Apple's confused craws below, and he guessed Nemona's silence was a similar sort of confusion. He crossed his feet securely on top a sturdy trunk and grabbed his round passenger. And placed him on a high branch, a very specific one he'd seen from below. It pitter-pattered from trunk to tip, then spun around it once or twice. There was an empty cobweb and a suspiciously long web-string coiled and hanging down from that very branch.

He climbed down and dusted himself off. It was pretty obvious the little pokémon had just snapped from its home-made swing, rolled down the hill and lost its bearings. And Nemona wanted him to fight it, just like that? While it was searching for its home? What if it got hurt? No, that would be stupid. The idea of battling other trainer's pokémon was already bad enough. Battling wild pokémon just minding their own business was even worse. The spider already slid down its own web and it had started to rebuild the broken dangle it had been using. His smile at seeing the little guy happy vanished when some lousy freckled woman came up to him. He took a deep breath.

Just keep ignoring her.

‟Wow, that was actually kinda cool!"

His head spun, ‟… I can't believe you'd want to fight that," he said indignantly. ‟But you're not angry?" not that it bothered him, but he'd expect her to blow up at him.

‟Oh, I Am mad, tonto! If that thing had bitten you we'd both be in huge trouble! And I'd be much happier if you'd listen when I'm teaching you! But I've never thought of trying to help a pokémon like that. So I'm forgiving you. This time."

It's like that plastered smile refused to leave her face. Like it was a hammer and all the topics were nails.

‟…I battled it, both it and Apple'd get hurt. And what if it died?"

Nemona's amber eyes flared up, looking straight at him, ‟Eh? Die? What do you mean, die?"

Now his eyes flared up. She couldn't not know. Even he knew what dying was.

‟With— With Apple, duh!? What if he burns it and… And you know?"

Nemona looked clueless for a few moments, like he'd spoken his mother tongue, before clasping her hands with loud relief. ‟Oooh, you mean like that! That's stuff that even kids know nowadays, I didn't know what you meant! Don't worry, I can explain it."

‟… You'll what?"

He didn't even realize they'd started walking while talking. He was very bad at ignoring this girl. Or maybe she was very good at notbeing ignored.

‟Yeah… Prof. Jacq could explain it more clearly…" her head was tilting as she put her fingers on her temples, ‟but pokémon have this survival instinct where they minimize when in danger!"

‟Huh?"

‟Actually. It's easier if you see it in action… Oh! See that Lechonk? Hit it with an Ember!"

‟I won't."

‟Come on! You gotta learn to do it! Just once, pretty please?!"

‟No!"

They'd been walking for a while. With no academy in sight. And they met no people and saw no towns either. Poco Path was only full of hills and dales, so it was taking more to traverse than first seemed. His partner seemed to be running out of breath quite often (partly because she was wasting it to explain about battling, with no one listening), and he had to slow and stop for her. Which he hated, and he grumbled to himself about it. He did think of leaving her. Him and Apple could just walk until they found the academy. He really didn't need to be slowed down to 'learn' anything she had to say.

‟Look, Haruto! Over there."

‟… A cliff?" It was a gentle cliffside, leading off the beaten path. With proper safety rails all around, and the addition of a single palm tree on the precipice.

‟No! Well, you're right, but I'm talking about what's onthe cliff!"

He pulled his hand over his eyes (because he wasn't wearing the uniform's sun-hat, he wasn't a kid) and spotted an orange blob grabbing on the thin trunk.

‟Let's go, I'll show you!"

Where'd this energy even come from? Just a few minutes ago this girl needed a break to catch her breath. Now she was running around like Dodrio hopped on birdseed. Was one pokémon that exciting? And after a few minutes they crouched behind a thick bush, which was artisanally placed to frame the cliff. Apple didn't follow, instead rolling down the hill in search of food. Yes, rolling.

‟Can you see it now?"

And he looked again. It was a small… kind of rodent. Orange and round-ish and completely clueless looking. Probably hanging around trees for fallen berries. Incredibly cute. He really wanted to play with its head tuft.

‟Who is that?"

‟That's a Pawmi. The mouse pokémon. It's an electric physical attacker with good coverage and the speed to use it, and I heard it gets some pretty good tricks later on."

‟What."

‟Don't worry about it," she said, eyes glued to that adorable thing. Refreshing seeing her face not in a smile. ‟Because I'm calling dibs on it."

He didn't mind. Didn't care about catching it, it hadn't even crossed his mind he could catch wild pokémon. And now that it did, it made him feel weird. A bit queasy in his throat. A black ball interrupted him as it flew out of the bush, over his head. And then completely missed the Pawmi and bounced off the ground. Nemona had just missed.

‟What are—" But she threw another ball towards that palm tree. This time even further away from the mouse. And another flew by before that reached the ground. And another hit the palm tree itself.

The Pawmi, all prim and proper, did not move. It stood at the base of that tree with its clueless looking face even as more balls tumbled and rumbled in front of its eyes. If only he'd have known back then, Nemona was wasting a year's salary worth of Luxury Balls failing to catch it.

‟Let me try," he piped up. Not because he wanted to help, but because he was irritating how bad she was at throwing. How can her tenth throw be worse than her first?

‟Oh, sure! Here, you can get some practice in."

One poké ball was firmly in his hand. He stood up straight, eyes over the leaves. He didn't think about it. His fingers felt right; he knew the ball would hit. The Pawmi was reduced to energy into the clutches of his ball and he suddenly felt a deep pit into his stomach.

‟Wow! You actually got it first try! You're a natural at throwing poké balls!"

He turned his eyes to the ball and it looked to be shaking some such. And it seemed like it might have calmed down. But as soon as he thought that, it broke open. The Pawmi valorously ripping the plastic in twine, with two shells flying off as it jumped out.

‟Oh, no you don't!" a voice from the bush rang out and her braced arm threw a poké ball at the Pawmi. Copying his throw, with the same perfect form. It flew into the ocean.

The Pawmi, now alerted to the imminent danger, ran away at lightning speed… Except there were so many Luxury Balls around that after two steps it bumped its head on one. And hit the catch button.

And the worst part, that's how it was caught.

He rubbed his eyes in disbelief, he looked over at her and she just smiled like it wasn't even anything out of the ordinary.

‟And that's how you catch pokémon!" She cleaned off her new pokémon's home and held it out, all proud with her chest puffed out.

‟You… Does that count?"

‟It went in the ball, verdad?" she winked playfully, ‟If it's caught then I caught it."

It was still weird to him. Made his skin crawl, really. What if that Pawmi doesn't want to go with her? What if Pawmies live in families? Isn't this kidnapping? Monnaping? Doesn't she feel bad?

‟…Are you giving him a name?"

‟Oh, that," she scratched her giant forehead, ‟I used to give them names, but it became a chore to remember them all, so you know…"

‟… That's so sad." Getting taken away from your home just to become 'a Pawmi'? Must have felt horrible.

‟Oh, it's not sad or anything like that! I'm sure it's a bother for pokémon to remember the weird names we give them, too!"

Yeah, for sure. For sure it's a bother. Sure that's what it is. Sure sure. For sure she wasn't just a heartless psychopath. For sure for sure.

Apple finally caught up to them, with food in hand. It was actually 4 Luxury Balls.

Gosh! She was having a lot of fun, and the outdoors was beautiful, and seeing all those pokémon in nature was great!… But getting up those slopes was taking the wind out of her sails. She'd started to get a cold sweat, her legs were dragging, and her face was getting hot. She knew she should have asked for a break about half an hour ago, but Haruto seemed impatient. And her patience was rewarded with a narrow, pleasant path, a notch from the mountains to its left, with a great ocean view to the right, and no weird bugs in sight. No better place for a break, she thought. She was sure Haruto'd appreciate it as well. Hopefully.

‟Hey, Haruto, could we maybe take a short break, por favor?"

She could tell he was annoyed, which was normal. But he stopped and asked where they should sit down. She still didn't understand what'd happened to him since morning. Maybe that's just how he was? But he didn't seem the grumpy type? Hmm… How do you make guys happy? A light bulb went off over her head!

‟Actually, it's already noon, I think you and me could have lunch!"

It didn't seem to work, ‟…How far is Naranja?" he asked, ignoring her and looking at the long path ahead.

‟Oh, the academy? We're about, uh…" She had to guess, ‟Let's say, a quarter of the way there."

Her partner almost tumbled backwards, ‟Is it on the other side of the world or something?!"

‟Well, it is in the middle of Paldea, if that's what you're asking! Don't worry, we'll walk there together!"

She left her friendly smile on as she took out her two new pets' pellets and vitamin supplements. Haruto seemed to have his attention on her Pawmi, but it's not like it had much of an expression to speak of. And it really didn't do much of anything at all. Haruto, nevertheless, tried to inspect its head-tuft. Which got countered as the Pawmi grabbed his finger and made his whole hand numb. Then again with the other hand. And then again. He eventually gave up and kept playing with his Fuceoco.

‟Hey, Haruto. You know Fuecoco's head stem glows when it's happy? Judging by your Fuecoco's, I'd say it really likes being around you!"

‟Oh, really?… Aaapppleee—D'you like me that much?! Why didn't you say so?!—" He started rubbing his Fuecoco in a weird spot on the back of its neck, its mouth hung half-open and its eyes closed in absolute bliss. How'd Haruto even find that… When'd he even find the time to find that?

She couldn't help the corners of her mouth rising upwards as she watched him. He was happy like a kid, unaware of anything but the moment. Childlike joy as he played and pampered both Apple and her own pokémon. It was heartwarming, really. Most kids nowadays took pokémon for granted, like owning pokémon was a given and not that exciting, but Haruto really seemed to enjoy just being around them. She wondered if that's really how he felt or he'd just been sheltered from pokémon all his life.

‟Y' know," she looked to the sea, ‟I've never actually walked to school, usually I just—"

Her words were cut short. A low, piercing growl erupted from the ocean below. The ground shook and leaves flew off branches; they jumped up to see what the heck was happening. She looked over the rope cord and down an almost-vertical wall there was a small cove, on the shore-line was a pokémon she'd never seen being hounded by Houndour. It looked really unusual — and super strong — and it was in dire need of help. She hesitated a moment, called out to her partner and felt only wind where he should've been.

‟Haruto, we have to help i—Haruto!?"

He wasn't there. For a split second she thought he'd disappeared, then she looked down. He'd been a split second faster to act than her, and he'd already picked how he was getting down. And he'd picked the worst thinkable choice.

That imbécil was slidingdown the rock face.

It's in pain. That howl was it crying for help. That's all that registered. As soon as he laid eyes on that poor thing being bullied lying down, his body was already in motion. His bag was swung over his head and his legs jumped over the posts meant to stop him from just that. He thought he could just keep his legs forward and the friction'd stop him from crashing into the sand 30 feet below. Well… the first thing he realized was that his shirt being tucked in wasn't good protection, so it rode up and his back got a good lesson in why they're called 'jagged rocks'. The second thing was that his plan for going down may not have been ideal, when his leg landed on a large protrusion. For an overlong second his whole momentum stopped and he thought his foot's gonna twist off, but instead leaned over and his body turned sideways.

A slide turned into a tumble, he hit the wall once and then he was flying. Then sand. And sand really wasn't as soft as it seemed.

He thanked god almighty when he opened his eyes pointed to the skies. Falls on the back hurt the most but break the least. He was still numb but it stung like hell; his arms started staggering and almost gave out as he got up on them. He had no time to focus on that. Ran up to the bullied pokémon, hand picking something from his pockets.

He screamed it with all the air left in his lungs, ‟Hey, HELLPUPS! Why don't you pick on THIS?!" and he threw out Apple, the ball burying in the sands and opening to—

Sharp eyes and nasty growls turned away from the pokémon, fangs bared and intent to kill now aimed at him… The ball wasn't opening?… Why—Why wasn't Apple coming out?

Wait… That wasn't Apple. That was an empty poké ball, wasn't it? He fished around his pockets and… uh, which one was Apple again?

Actually, wasn't Apple still at that picnic? Or does he come back to his ball? Was that how poké balls worked?

He… didn't know how poké balls worked.

He froze up.

A clanging roar broke up the skulldogs' attention. Loud enough to make waves soar and his ears ring. The half-dead Dragon raised its head and puffed out its plumes. The dogs circled around the source and then each other as they scampered off whining. He was left with ice-cold sweat. He took a few deep breaths as he dug out that empty poké ball, still unused, and he went to check up on the bullied pokémon.

‟Are you okay?… Thanks for saving me, Can you hear me?" he went to its side… And it didn't even move, it was a male, their eyes met, and the pokémon looked exhausted, afraid of something.

He opened up his bag, a potion? But there weren't any wounds for it to heal. Berries? His comb? Toothpaste? Anything? He needed to do something.But before long, it seemed the pokémon's nose itself picked the thing it needed.

‟Oh! You want this sandwich? Sure, here!" He held up his mom's footlong and the monster devoured it whole. In one bite too. And like magic it jumped back up, wheel-sac revved with life.

‟Wow! You really were hungry, weren't you?" And the now perked up lizard gave a short ‟Agias!" as a thank you, then it walked past him like nothing had happened. When he turned back he saw it take a stop on the sand, and in the next moment it released another loud roar as the trainer was hit by a great deal of hot wind. The 'beast' was now sitting upright, proudly facing towards the cave. Haruto thought he had been completely ignored, until the dragon looked back, wondering what the holdup was. He had a fragmented moment to wonder what in hell's blazes had he just saved, if it needed saving in the first place. He followed hastily.

Hot, still, and dark as pitch. That was the cave. If not for the dragon's bright plumage, unmistakable even in absolute darkness, he'd have lost himself. Afraid to not to be left alone, he kept his back to it, or its great long tail. His eyes spotted things in that cave, just out of sight. Eyes staring at him, from a safe distance, growling and the sharpening of fangs; some danger seizing him up… He held Apple in hand, after taking a few moments to figure out which ball was his (the heavier one). He was holding that ball like his younger self held impractically long sticks when the night was too dark for comfort. But his heart jumped when he heard a thunderous THUD from behind. When he turned around, Haruto saw nothing. The beast was nowhere to be seen, he was only one. And he couldn't even see past his nose.

So, he wandered through those widening and narrowing passageways. Trying his best to guess the direction he had been going in. And up above him there was a horrible sound like a landslide waiting to happen. Rocks being displaced. And now's when he thinks he should've just waited on that beach and Nemona'd help him climb back up. Or maybe he should've gone to school some other day. When his nose hit a wall the second time he got tired and sent Apple out. For the light, if nothing else. Apple, with a confused rawr? lit up the cave, and he could see the great dome of stone he had wound up in. And immediately he heard howls. He looked down at his partner as legions of wolf-dogs appeared all-around, from shelves of stone and inlets and boughs of rock, like the smell of meat had just been wafted into their nest. And before he could even count them for number he heard a low-pitched, gruff howl. And a hound as tall as him, with spikes and fangs to match, ruled out from a hallway, posture straight as a pole. He started to feel hot, he knew enough about dogs to tell this was top dog. Forget his other fantasies, he really wished he'd wake up back in his bed in his old home, and none of this would have happened. And the sound of rocks moving was the muggy August rain on his roof.

‟Apple… You'll have to fight that thing, I'm sorry, but," but the croc understood without a word, already snapping his teeth at the gigantic mutt. With more courage than his master. As lazy as Apple was, he was no slouch in a fight.

‟Alright, then." He swallowed, ‟Use your fireball!"

And from the croc's mouth a ball of fire, as big as an open fist, came flying out, illuminating the entire cave in a flickering, violent orange, it flew true and hit the hellhound in its face. Haruto smirked at first, but his face dropped once the fire went out. That mighty stream of fire did less than nothing. He remembered his dad once talked about these dogs, though they lived far from their home. Doom dogs, hound dooms, or devil mongrels. The advice if he ever met one was to… hope they don't see him. And in the next moment, like the skulk of a shadow that dog was speeding towards his friend. Apple was too weak to take a hit.

‟Apple, dodge!" And in a split second, his Fuecoco jumped as far as his flat stumps could take him. Far above where he'd normally be, and above where a nasty predator would think to swipe at… Too bad his tail was in the perfect place for a set of sharp molars to dig in. The crunch rang hollow in the cave. And next was what happens when an excited dog plays with a chew toy too hard. The relief Haruto felt when poor Apple disappeared into the ball was only matched by the fear that struck him when he realized what came next. Or who came next. He put his hands over his face and everything went white for a scrambled second. Did he white out? Was he dead?

After three blinks and a skipped heartbeat, he realized it was the sun that had come into his eyes. And then that giant, multicolored dragon landed on the ground between him and the dog who, when faced with it, looked like an overgrown cute pup. Then before he could relax a hand had grabbed him and he was flying into the air on a high rock shelf. Him and the dragon landed next to a freshly open tunnel to the, and he teared up seeing it, ambering sun. He was even almost glad to see Nemona bursting in from the reopened cave entrance.

‟Haruto! Are you alright!? You look horrible! You idiot! Are you crying?! What's that pokémon?! I thought you were gonna die! I didn't have any ropes! Why're you crying?! I'm here!" her giant worried everything assaulted him. Hand over his back and eyes in his face and loud, loud noises in his ear. He'd almost find it heartwarming.

‟Just…" he had no idea what to say, really. He felt relieved and scared and excited and tired. And he was getting nightmares that night. And his stomach—

‟… Can we get lunch? I'm hungry."

‟—Lunch?! Oh, Si! Let's get some food!"

She kept badgering him about the giant pokémon and about what happened and if he was okay. About how fierce he looked and how much she wanted to let her pokémon battle him and how she tried to save him but the cave was closed. Haruto chewed on some thin meat, their supplies were going low after that thing was fed with his mom's sandwich, and then everything else they gave it. According to her it looked to be some sort of Cyclizar? In the downtime she also got his phone forced some pokédex and pokébattle apps onto it because he'd ‟need them" and set them ‟to make it only say the important parts" and ‟to have it call out double-super-effective hits differently". In truth he just let her do whatever because he didn't have the energy to argue. Apple was fine, like she told him he'd be. Nemona gave him a crystal which he broke open and sprinkled on his sleeping face and he woke up, sneezing but not much worse for wear. And his tail was intact too… He tried to stop thinking about that. He was sitting in his lap, next to the food; bringing out the char in his charcuterie. Hugging him tight he couldn't help feeling weird, just generally. Like an uncanny dread. If not for that Cyclizar?, he'd… But again, if not for that Cyclizar he wouldn't even have gone down there…

In the end, he didn't eat much.

‟Hey, Haruto," Nemona's smile faded from her face, everlasting as it seemed to be.

‟Yeah, what?"

‟You know, I think it's really sweet how much you love pokémon and all. Like, it's awesome!" she glanced down, tone was much less practiced than usual, ‟But, you still can't not know how to defend yourself, alright?!"

‟Hmph," his pride didn't allow him to concede, ‟You just want to get me to fight you again."

‟What!? No!… Well, maybe a little! But I'm serious, you can't not know how pokémon battles work if you want to survive outside cities. You got lucky this time, but what if next time it won't be like that?"

It was weird how honest she was being all of a sudden. And he had to concede her point. ‟…Fine. But I won't attack random pokémon out of the blue like you. And battling for self-defense has nothing to do with battling for sport, alright!? "

She retorted, ‟Only that it's the same thing!" it seemed like she was back to her horrible self, ‟And ,since you brought it up, do you want to—"

‟No."

They had a long lunch break. Actually, lunch was short, they took a long break after. And it helped to get his wits about him, and Nemona seemed in better shape too. Too bad the sun had begun to set when the Cyclizar(?) seemed to smell something out and started following the trail. And not slowly, either.

‟Hey, what's it doing?" he scrambled to follow the pokémon, who seemed to be searching for something. The wheel-lizard wasn't going so fast as to out pace him, though it easily could have. He looked back and noticed Nemona far behind, trying to catch up and struggling with it. She really wasn't as athletic as she let on. He felt bad for her for a second. He sighed deeply and went back to keep his partner's pace. He did hate her, don't get him wrong. But he wasn't the best at hating people, and his mom taught him that you don't leave girls alone.

By the time she jogged up to him she said he could have gone ahead without her. But it seemed the Cyclizar had stopped at a lighthouse, which was in sight of their picnic but so boring as to not merit mention, and he heard, to his surprise, a shouting voice. When they got closer they could see a student running up to the pokémon, angrily demanding an answer from the hapless lizard.

‟What're you doing out here!?"

‟Hey!" Haruto called out from a fair distance, ‟You can't talk to him like that!", dashing over to them both.

Once his eyes passed over the hill he saw an angry teenager: tall with a blue vest and eyes and unkempt, flowing locks. And a giant banana-yellow backpack that he was lugging around. He was a student of Naranja, if nothing else

‟I wasn't talking to you, pipsqueak. Shove off."

Cyclizar(?) had been bullied enough for one day, ‟No, you were talking to my friend. And you can't talk to him like that," he demanded angrily.

‟Oh, Koraidon's your friend now? And what, you're just taking it out on a stroll?", this mangy lad, whoever he was, was trying to tower over Haruto as best he could. He wouldn't let that happen.

‟No, I'm here to tell you where you need to take your—"

Nemona, huffing and puffing, interrupted them, ‟Oh! Isn't that Arven? You're enrolled in the humanities track, right? And aren't you the son of that pokémon researcher—Professor Sada?"

Their staring contest stopped as they looked at her, but this Arven seemed mighty pissed at what she'd said, ‟What's my mom got to do with this?! The actual problem is what the heck is this Pokémon doing out here!"

Arven then looked at, apparently his name was Koraidon(?), again. This time more inquiring into it. That guy had gone from angry to normal twice in twenty seconds.

‟And what's with this form it's in? It can't battle like this."

‟Maybe it's because he saved me, I think. It's a bit of a long story."

And then he told the student, who somehow listened, an abridged retelling of what happened. Some parts were omitted, like how he'd fallen on his back on the beach, or how scared he was, or anything about that really big doom dog. He was trying to not remember the last one himself.

After listening quietly, his school mate only said, ‟… And I thought idiots weren't allowed in Naranja."

‟Hey!"

Unbothered, he continued, ‟But Koraidon wouldn't get like this from just some Houndour, and how did he even end up on that shore?" he thought pensively.

‟Yeah, I noticed he was hurt when I found him too. Know any way to treat him?" Koraidon wasn't just hurt, he seemed scared when they'd been taking care of him. He'd seen meek pokémon but there was something off about how he'd flip from courageous to cowardly. Such a grandiose pokémon as that seemed unlikely to be cowardly.

Arven sighed, a deep drawn-out sigh, ‟I really wish I did," but his foppish attitude came back as quickly as it went, ‟But you think you're up to ordering Koraidon, pipsqueak? Then how 'bout I test you?"

‟Eh?"

‟I mean how about we do a pokémon battle?" he took a poké ball out of his bag's pocket to emphasize it.

‟No," he said stalwart.

‟So that means you're giving him up?"

‟No. It means I'm not fighting you."

His eyebrows furrowed, ‟Then, pray tell, how else can I know if you have what it takes to order around a pokémon as powerful as he is? He isn't like one of your school handouts, you know."

Haruto's eyes sharpened. That attitude, the one he hated. He decided he was going to give this Arven a piece of his mind after all. ‟I'm not going to 'order'Koraidon around. He helped me, and I owe him. And there's something wrong with him. So I'm not dumb enough to hurt him in battle. Because I want to help him. And that's got nothing to do with how well I can 'fight with my pokémon'. So if that's how you want to test me, you can take him and keep him. Because a pokémon isn't something you give out like that."

Then, they stared each other down for a good long while. Tension rang in the air. Until Arven just scoffed at the whole thing. ‟Big words coming from you, twerp…" he looked to scratch his head, ‟But you're right, actually. And now I'm all cooled off. Tsch, here." He got handed a poké ball, presumably Koraidon's. ‟Ahh—Ahh. I just wanted to blow some steam off and instead I got lectured by some kid."

‟Name's Haruto, by the way."

‟Hey! If it's a battle you want, I'm right here!" you-know-who chimed in. Poké balls at the ready.

‟I said 'battle', not 'one-sided massacre'. Don't want to fight miss 'daddy-buys-all-my-pokémon' either," Haruto couldn't help but burst a chortle out at that. Of course he quickly zipped it but it was a bit too late.

‟What?! That's Not true! If you want to say stuff like that, then prepare to back it up!" she said, holding her poké balls menacingly.

With a small smile on his face, he turned away from them ‟Too bad you can't force me to, and I suddenly don't want to battle. How unfortunate."

‟Yeah, Nemona. You can't force people to fight you like that."

‟¡¿Et tú, Haruto?! Where's your pokémon trainer pride!?"

‟My what?" Haruto asked.

‟My dog ate it," Arven replied.

‟…Well, I did what I came here to do, so I'll be leaving you two, and Koraidon" said the blue-eyed student, already walking away, one hand in pocket, ‟Take good care of him, Haruto."

‟I will!" said he, watching that two-tone hair slowly get smaller and smaller, down the path to a faraway town down the hill.

‟Hmph! That guy really gets on my nerves!" Nemona had a hand on her waist as she puffed out.

He looked down at his hand, and saw Koraidon's poké ball in it… He was now the temporary owner of a Koraidon, or… actually, wait—

‟Hey, Arven!"

‟…What?" He didn't turn around in the distance.

‟Can I nickname him?"

‟…Suit yourself."

‟Wow, you're really gonna name that big thing? I think Koraidon alreadyfits pretty well, myself." Nemona said, still looking up and down at it. Practically salivating just thinking about how it'd perform in battle. Imagine the strategies!

He didn't even have to think for that one, ‟His name's Korey."

‟…Wow! That's…" he could hear the gears trying to spin in her head, politeness forcing her mouth open, ‟Uh, not what I'd have chosen!"

He then pet his new Korey, trying to get a spot between his nice plumes and dopey head. But his reptilian dog then proceeded to fill his face with slobber, and just him resting his front paws on the student almost pinned him to the ground. But most surprising was how the slobber didn't smell horrible.

‟Oh, I know! Haruto! The sun is almost setting, so we can go and see the academy!"

‟See?"

‟Yeah, up this light tower!"

And after the long climb, on top the tower and next to the light. The sky was open all around him from every direction. The sun felt like it was shining through them whole. The sky was flickering orange in the east and a cold dark blue in the west.

‟That right there is Naranja Academy!"

He looked and it was either closer than it seemed, or, more likely, it really was as big as the brochures made it out to be. It was hard to describe, he rubbed his eyes and it was still there, the giant iridescent ball and golden ornaments were towering over even the mountains beside them, with rows and rows of buildings snaking up and down like jewels framing hung on the side of a crown, all built on a stone pillar risen on top of water— It seemed more like a great monument one would find in history books than a place to study everyday.

‟… Is thatthe academy?"

‟Yup! You'll be studying there… Though, since you're enrolled in Humanities, you'll probably be in the same class as that Arven jerk."

He didn't even hear, it wasn't just the academy he took in… there was everything else. There were rivers, lakes, mountains, valleys, forests, camps cities copses hills shores desertstownspeoplepokémon— so much — There was so much of everything all sitting together, all snuggled up and laid out around them. And everything was so big. How big was this place? It ran too far for his eye to see in three directions and that wasn't even half of a half of it. It boggled his mind, like he could never understand the sheer size of it. If he was bored, he could go all the way to Johto's edge, walk all the way to the OTHER edge, then walk back, all in a single day, and his mom wouldn't even be mad that he was late. But This? Paldea? By the time he'd reach any kind of edge his mom would forget all about him. It could fit his old home a hundred times over. It was so big that he seemed so minuscule. His worries seemed insignificant for a long moment.

‟… You all live here?"

‟I guess it's hard to appreciate when you see it everyday, but Paldea is beautiful, isn't it?" Nemona said, hands on chest.

‟Oh, I think I forgot to say!" he turned his head to her.

‟What?"

‟Welcome to Paldea!"