The Safari Zone observed certain holidays, and today was one of them-a rare day off that Arin decided to use visiting Mrs. Varma. The morning air was crisp as he made his way through Fuchsia City, retracing the familiar path to the small shop that had been his first real home in this world.
As he walked, Arin caught his reflection in a storefront window and paused briefly. The change in his appearance over the past months was striking. The gaunt, hollow-cheeked boy who had once stumbled into Mrs. Varma's shop was gone. Regular meals and physical labor had transformed him. His shoulders had broadened, his arms showed defined muscle from hauling equipment and climbing maintenance ladders, and his once-sallow face had filled out with healthy color. Even his posture had changed-he stood straighter, more confident. The Safari Zone's demanding work had been difficult, but his body had responded by growing stronger.
When he arrived at the shop, Mrs. Varma was sweeping the front step. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in his transformed appearance, though she quickly masked her surprise with her usual stern expression, which softened just a touch at the sight of him.
"So they haven't worked you to death yet," she remarked, stepping aside to let him in. "You actually look like you've been eating properly for once."
The shop smelled the same-a mixture of berries, spices, and the faint mustiness of the old building. It felt strange to be a visitor rather than a resident, but somehow comforting too.
"Business good?" Arin asked, glancing around at the neatly arranged shelves.
Mrs. Varma shrugged. "Same as always. Enough to keep the doors open."
They settled into a comfortable rhythm, Arin helping with small tasks around the shop while they caught up. He told her about the Safari Zone's operations, carefully editing out anything confidential, while she updated him on neighborhood gossip and the minor changes to the shop. During a lull in customers, Mrs. Varma made tea, and they sat at the small table in the back room.
"Plusle! Minun!" The cheerful cries announced the arrival of Mrs. Varma's electric pair, who bounded into the room with their characteristic energy. They recognized Arin immediately, circling him with excited chirps.
"They've missed having someone to bother," Mrs. Varma said, a rare smile crossing her face.
Arin spent the next hour playing with the energetic duo, their electric sparks occasionally making his hair stand on end. It reminded him of his early days at the shop, when everything had been simpler and his biggest concern had been Mrs. Varma's approval.
As the afternoon wore on, Arin found himself sharing his decision about Zubat.
"Zubat?" Mrs. Varma's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "You can't be serious. Of all the Pokémon you could choose, you want a cave pest?"
"It's not just any pest," Arin defended his choice. "Zubat evolves into Golbat, and with enough care, eventually Crobat. Fast, versatile, and underestimated."
Mrs. Varma shook her head. "Why not something practical? A Nidoran would serve you better-good attack, decent defense, and they evolve into powerful fighters. Even a Sandshrew would make more sense."
"Everyone chooses those," Arin replied. "I've thought this through carefully. Zubat is the right choice for me."
Mrs. Varma studied him for a moment, noting the determination in his eyes. Finally, she sighed. "Well, you were always stubborn. I suppose there's no changing your mind once it's set." She paused, then added reluctantly, "And I suppose there is something to be said for choosing a path others overlook."
The visit ended too soon, and as the sun began to set, Arin knew he needed to head back to the Safari Zone. Mrs. Varma walked him to the door, pressing a small package of homemade Pokéblocks into his hands.
"For when you catch that Zubat of yours," she said gruffly. "Special blend. Good for Flying types. Added extra calcium too-they need strong wings."
Arin was touched by the gesture. Despite her skepticism, she was supporting his choice in her own practical way. "Thank you. This means a lot."
"Just don't come crying to me when it keeps you awake with its screeching," she replied, but there was no real bite to her words.
As Arin made his way back toward the Safari Zone, the setting sun cast long shadows across the path. He felt lighter somehow, as if Mrs. Varma's grudging acceptance had validated his plans. The small package of Pokéblocks in his pocket was a tangible reminder that he wasn't entirely alone in this world.
He was about halfway back when he noticed a familiar figure emerging from the Safari Zone's main entrance-a boy, perhaps seven years old, with spiky auburn hair and a confident stride. Beside him walked an older girl, probably his sister, with long brown hair.
Arin froze, his heart pounding. He knew that face, even in its younger form.
Gary Oak. And that must be his sister, Daisy.
He ducked behind a tree, watching as they walked away, the boy chattering excitedly about something he'd seen inside. Even from a distance, Arin could sense the boy's self-assured manner, the same cockiness that had defined Gary's character.
"Did you see how impressed Grandpa was?" the boy was saying. "He said I spotted that Kangaskhan faster than anyone else in the tour group!"
"Yes, Gary, very impressive," his sister replied with the patient tone of someone who had heard similar boasts many times before.
Arin's mind raced. If Gary Oak existed in this world, and was about seven years old, that meant he was witnessing the pre-history of the Pokémon journey he knew so well. The timeline suddenly became concrete in a way it hadn't been before.
He waited until the Oaks were out of sight before hurrying back to the Safari Zone, barely acknowledging the guard at the staff entrance as he rushed inside. The computer lab was empty at this hour, perfect for what he needed to do. With practiced ease, he established an anonymous browsing session and began his search.
Professor Samuel Oak was easy to find-the renowned Pokémon researcher from Pallet Town, former champion, and developer of the Pokédex. His family information confirmed what Arin had seen: grandson Gary Oak, granddaughter Daisy Oak. There were mentions of Gary's promising future as a trainer, following in his grandfather's footsteps.
Arin's fingers hovered over the keyboard before typing: "Delia Ketchum." Nothing relevant appeared. He tried "Ash Ketchum" with the same result. Either they didn't exist in this world, or they weren't yet notable enough to appear in public records.
Changing tactics, he searched for "Professor Oak Pokémon Summer Camp" with a date range from two years ago. This yielded results-a registration list that made Arin's breath catch.
There, among the participants: Ash Ketchum, Gary Oak, and even Serena. The implications hit him like a physical blow.
Arin leaned back in his chair, a deep sigh escaping him-one he felt he'd been holding back since arriving in this world. The evidence pointed to one conclusion: he was in the anime timeline, not the manga. The anime world had its dangers, certainly, but it wasn't the brutal reality of the manga where trainers and Pokémon frequently died in battles.
He dug deeper, searching for any news about unusual Pokémon sightings or incidents. There were reports of a giant Tentacruel attacking a coastal city several years ago, mentions of the mysterious Pokémon Mewtwo being developed (though most details were classified), and rumors of strange activities around Cinnabar Island. All matched events from the anime's background.
"So this is the anime world," Arin murmured, scrolling through the results. "Not the games, not the manga."
He closed his eyes, relief washing over him. At least he knew what kind of world he was dealing with now. The anime had its share of dangers and crises, but it was fundamentally more optimistic than the darker alternatives. People rarely died, even in catastrophic events. Team Rocket was more bumbling than truly evil, at least at the grunt level. And most importantly, it was a world where friendship and determination could overcome seemingly impossible odds.
But the discovery also emphasized the urgency of his plans. If Ash was already registered for summer camps, it wouldn't be long-perhaps three years at most-before he began his journey. That meant Team Rocket would become increasingly active, and the various crises that followed Ash would begin unfolding across the regions.
Arin needed security-both in the form of strong Pokémon partners and financial stability. The timeline was tightening. He cleared his browsing history, shut down the computer, and headed to his room, his mind already mapping out accelerated versions of his plans.
As he lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, Arin mentally reviewed what he knew about the anime's timeline. If Gary was seven now, that meant Ash would receive Pikachu and begin his journey around age ten. The Orange Islands, Johto, Hoenn, and other regions would follow. Team Rocket would pursue Pikachu relentlessly. Legendary Pokémon would appear, often causing or resolving major crises.
And somewhere in the background of all this, Arin would be building his own path. Not as the chosen one, not as the protagonist, but as someone with unique knowledge and growing skills.
"I need to be ready," he whispered to the darkness. "When the storms come, I need to be strong enough to weather them."
Tomorrow, he would redouble his efforts to find a high-IV Zubat. He would continue his careful cultivation of the Dratini relationship. And he would accelerate his coding projects, knowing that technological skills might provide advantages in this world that even Pokémon couldn't.
In a world where legendary events were on the horizon, he couldn't afford to be unprepared. But for the first time since his arrival, Arin felt a strange sense of certainty. This was the Pokémon world at its most familiar-the version countless children had grown up watching.
And despite its dangers, he just needed to make sure he was on the right side of history when those moments came.
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