Chapter 2: The Road Out of Verity
Ren had always imagined his journey would begin with soaring music and the wind at his back.
Instead, it began with Bidoof chewing on his backpack strap.
"Hey—hey, buddy, that's not food!"
Bidoof blinked up at him, totally unbothered, a small string of slobber hanging from its buck teeth.
They'd barely made it past the town's signpost, and already Ren was questioning whether this was a heroic duo or an accidental comedy act.
The path ahead wound through the golden-green trees of Route 201, their leaves flickering in the morning sun like embers. Wild Pokémon rustled in the grass beyond the worn trail. Ren took a deep breath and tried to let the fresh air wash over him.
This is it. The start of everything.
He looked down at the brown puffball waddling beside him.
Bidoof let out a low yawn, then tripped over a root. Again.
"Okay," Ren muttered, catching his partner before he faceplanted. "It's gonna be one of those starts."
---
They trained lightly at first—Ren didn't want to push Bidoof too hard right away.
Or at all, really.
If he was honest, it was hard to tell where Bidoof's laziness ended and his skill began.
"Alright," Ren said that afternoon, crouching beside a tree stump. "Let's practice tackling that log over there."
Bidoof blinked once.
"…Okay, go!"
Bidoof blinked again.
Then turned around and started digging a shallow nap hole.
Ren let out a long sigh and flopped onto the grass. "This is fine. Everything's fine. Normal-types aren't known for speed anyway. Or enthusiasm. Or… coordination."
But he didn't give up.
They spent the day like that—Ren talking to Bidoof like a partner, coaching him through clumsy rolls, half-hearted tackles, and distracted snack breaks. He even tried giving him pep talks, complete with grand hand gestures and battle poses.
A flock of Starly laughed at them from the trees.
---
That evening, under a slowly darkening sky, Ren set up a small camp just off the trail. He roasted some berries over a light fire and watched Bidoof lay on his back, legs up, staring at the stars like they owed him money.
"You ever think about what's up there?" Ren asked.
Bidoof let out a small snore.
Ren chuckled and poked the fire with a stick. The embers cracked softly in reply.
"I'm gonna do it, you know," he said casually, like it was just a thing one says to the wind. "I'm gonna be the first ever Normal-type Elite Four member. The very first."
There was a pause.
Then a small, unmistakable snort.
Ren turned to see Bidoof staring at him now, one eyebrow—or what passed for one—raised.
"What?"
Bidoof grunted. His look was one of disbelief, almost mocking.
"You don't believe me?"
Bidoof gave the tiniest shake of his head, then rolled back over with a heavy sigh.
Ren frowned, not angry, but… disappointed.
"…I get it," he said quietly. "Nobody else believes it either. They think Normal-types are boring. Weak. Just HM mules."
He looked down at his hands, then at the soft flicker of the fire.
"But I don't care what they think. I believe in this. In you. In me. We're gonna prove them wrong."
Bidoof didn't respond. But his ears twitched.
---
The next morning came early, with a warm breeze and a sharp surprise—a wild Starly dive-bombed from the trees, wings slicing the air as it aimed straight for Ren's camp.
"Whoa—Bidoof, get ready—!"
The words barely left his mouth.
Before Ren could even react, Bidoof was already moving. With a blur of brown fur and surprising speed, he launched himself into a midair Tackle, colliding with the Starly mid-flight.
The impact sent the bird spiraling into the bushes, dazed but unharmed. It chirped angrily before flapping away, its pride more bruised than its wings.
Ren blinked. "Bidoof… that was awesome!"
Bidoof, now completely still, waddled back to the fire pit and plopped down as if he hadn't just done something impressive.
Ren grinned. "So you do have it in you."
Bidoof didn't answer. But he didn't scoff this time, either.