Route 1, Hoenn Region.
May, Aspiring trainer.
[Ralts, the Empathy Pokémon: Ralts senses the emotions of people using the horns on its head. This Pokémon rarely appears before people. But when it does, it draws closer if it senses that the person has a positive disposition.]
The Pokédex let out a soft chime as May lowered it, her brows drawn together.
"Weird," she muttered. "Its hair's blue. Aren't Ralts supposed to be green?"
The Pokémon in front of them just stood there, blinking slowly. Pale blue hair, a red horn glowing faintly, and a silvery-white body that shimmered ever so slightly in the sunlight. It was clearly a Ralts, just not a normal one.
Wally didn't take his eyes off it. "It's shiny," he said quietly, like he was worried speaking too loud might scare it off.
May turned to him. "How do you even know something like this would appear?"
Wally shrugged, a little too dramatically, and flicked his bangs with mock flair like those in shampoo advertisements. "What can I say? Maybe I'm lucky. Even rare Pokémon can't resist my charm."
May snorted. "Right. Either that or fate's got a seriously weird sense of humor."
Wally chuckled, but the laugh didn't break the focus in his eyes. There was a calmness to him now that she hadn't seen earlier. Steady. Like something had clicked.
Ralts, for her part, took a step forward.
May narrowed her eyes. "I thought Ralts were supposed to be shy. This one's not backing down."
Wally tilted his head. "Shinies can have different temperaments, right? Maybe this one just knows what it wants."
As if to agree, the Ralts let out a cry, sharp and sudden, and lowered its head a little. Not aggressive, but assertive. Ready.
May took a small step back. "Yup. That's a challenge. This one wants to battle."
Wally nodded, hand already drifting to the Poké Ball Norman had handed him earlier. "I think it's testing me. Not just how I feel, but whether I can handle this, whether I can handle her."
He didn't throw the ball right away. Just took a breath, steady in, steady out.
May glanced sideways at him. He was pale and clearly tired, but not shaken. Not anymore. He was just focused. Quietly determined. For someone who'd never done this before, he looked... composed. Almost like he belonged out here.
"All right," he murmured. "Let's do this. Go, Zigzagoon!"
The Poké Ball burst open with a pop, and Zigzagoon landed in front of him, tail twitching, sniffing the air.
Ralts didn't flinch. It stayed where it was, waiting.
May kept her voice low but firm. "Okay, first rule: don't knock it out. Wear it down slowly. Watch how it reacts. Ralts may look delicate, but it's got tricky moves."
"I've read about this," Wally said, still watching the field. "But... it feels different when it's right in front of you."
"Yeah," May said, remembering her first catch. "It always does."
"Zigzagoon, Tackle!"
The little raccoon Pokémon darted forward, but Ralts raised its arms. A wave of psychic energy, Confusion, struck Zigzagoon mid-charge and sent it rolling back through the grass.
May winced. "Yikes. Ralts are weird like that. Light, but they pack a serious punch."
Wally stayed focused. "Zigzagoon, use Sand Attack!"
Zigzagoon kicked up a cloud of dirt, forcing Ralts to squint and stagger slightly.
"Nice. Now follow up, Tackle again!"
The hit landed this time. Ralts stumbled but didn't go down.
May kept a close eye on both Pokémon. She could see Ralts's movements starting to slow, just a little. Still standing. Still fighting. But not as quick.
Another Confusion pulsed out. Zigzagoon ducked to the side.
"Circle around it," Wally called. "Keep moving! Then another Tackle!"
It worked. Zigzagoon clipped Ralts with its shoulder, sending it tumbling through the grass. The Pokémon stood back up, swaying now.
May gave a slight nod. "It's getting tired. Almost time."
Wally didn't rush. He adjusted his stance slightly, breathing steadily, hand ready. She was impressed, not just by how he handled the battle, but by how he didn't let the pressure get to him. Most rookies panicked or overthought everything. He wasn't doing either.
"Now," she said. "If you're gonna throw it, do it while Ralts is still recovering."
He didn't need to be told twice. He pulled the Poké Ball from his pocket, thumbed the release button once.
"Poké Ball! Go!"
The ball flew through the air, hit Ralts clean, and burst into light as the Pokémon was pulled inside.
Shake.Shake.Shake.Click.
Silence.
Zigzagoon barked, tail wagging furiously as it trotted in proud circles.
May let out a breath. "There it is."
Wally just stared at the Poké Ball in the grass, his face unreadable for a second. Then-
"…I caught it," he whispered.
She smiled. "Yeah. You did. Welcome to the club."
Wally looked up, blinking as if he couldn't quite believe it had happened, like he was just starting to accept what was real.
But then he smiled, and it was all real.
"Thank you," he said.
Wally smiled, bright and real. That moment, that look on Wally's face, was something she knew she wouldn't forget anytime soon.
...
Petalburg Town, Hoenn Region.
John, the Gardener.
Mornings in Petalburg were quiet. Familiar. Just the soft cries of Taillow overhead and the hum of the breeze through the hedges he trimmed each week. It was the kind of peace you stopped noticing after a while.
But lately, something had changed in their home, and in the boy who lived under their roof.
John leaned against the kitchen counter, mug in hand, staring out the window at the front path. The bag of berries he'd been sorting sat untouched beside him.
Wally.
The name alone stirred a mix of warmth and ache in his chest. His nephew had always been a gentle child. Polite, quiet, and painfully thin. There were seasons when his cough kept him bedridden for days, his skin nearly translucent under the fever sweats.
He remembered the first time Wally had collapsed in the garden, how his sister, Wally's mother, had begged them to take him in. The cleaner air near Petalburg, they said, might help. And so they had, gladly.
He loved the boy. How could he not?
But Wally had always been distant in his own way. Not unkind, never that, but absorbed. His world revolved around his books, the old Pokédex encyclopedia, and rewatching League matches on tape until the cartridges wore thin.
While other children chased Zigzagoon and wrestled in the dirt, Wally watched from the porch, clutching a blanket, content with his books.
And yet now…
Wally had changed.
It was subtle at first. A sharper gleam in his eyes. He spoke a little more at dinner. Laughed, even. And then came the letter in the mail: he'd passed the Pokémon license test.
From home. With no field training. No hands-on experience. Just sheer determination and endless studying.
Incredible, really.
Even now, John wasn't sure whether to be more amazed or worried.
Behind him, his wife wrung a dishcloth in her hands. She hadn't touched the sink in five minutes. Her brow was furrowed tight.
"He's still not back," she murmured. "It's nearly noon."
"He's fine," He said gently, not turning from the window. "He went with that girl, Norman's daughter. May."
"She's a good girl, but Wally's… He's not built for this."
"He's not made of glass," He replied quietly.
Her lips pressed together, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was familiar. Heavy with the shared memory of late-night worries and whispered prayers.
Then, movement.
Out on the path.
Wally was coming home.
He moved with more spring than usual, although still with the careful pace of someone long accustomed to conserving energy. And floating just behind him…
John squinted.
Ralts.
But not just any Ralts.
It shimmered under the sun. Its pale body almost silver, its hair a glacial blue. It moved with precision. Eyes clear. Sharp.
Wally opened the gate, his expression, the very picture of happiness.
"I'm back!" he called, breathless. "And I, I did it."
His wife rushed out first, wiping her hands on her apron. "Oh my goodness, Wally, what a precious little thing!"
She bent toward the Ralts, reaching to stroke its head.
But the Pokémon shook its head sharply and stepped back. Its gaze fixed, protective. Unyielding.
His wife blinked, her hand hovering midair.
"Oh…" she said softly. "That's… unexpected."
Wally's smile didn't falter. If anything, it grew more proud.
"She's not like most Ralts," he said. "She's… strong. Brave."
John watched from the porch. He had to admit, the Pokémon's demeanor was unusual. Fierce. Not in an aggressive way, but detached.
Just like Wally himself had been lately.
He stepped down, resting a hand on Wally's shoulder.
"Proud of you, Wally," he said. "I really am."
Wally looked up at him, and for a moment, John saw a future he hadn't dared to imagine, of journeys and challenges, of things beyond hospital beds and filtered air.
"I've been thinking," Wally said, voice quiet. "About Verdanturf Town. It's even cleaner than here. And there's a Pokémon Center nearby. I think… I want to go. Just me and Ralts."
The words landed softly, but firmly.
His wife looked stricken. "Wally…"
John met her gaze, steady.
"It's time," he said gently.
The boy beside them wasn't the same child who arrived fragile and silent, afraid of a stiff breeze. Something had changed.
He had a Ralts now, his very own Pokémon.
And a dream burning in his chest.
They would help him pack in the morning.
...
Thanks for reading~