"Ouch… ah… it hurts!"
"I'm seriously impressed — why does my left wrist hurt so much?"
On the classroom podium, a middle-aged male teacher was giving a lecture. Below him sat a young man, not exactly handsome but with fine, delicate features. He was panting heavily, trying to suppress his voice as pain twisted his face.
At that moment, his grimace ruined his gentle looks and made him appear almost feral.
"Hey, Ethan, how bad is it? Can you handle it?"
To his right, a tall, strong boy with striking features shot a glance toward the teacher, then leaned in to ask in a low voice.
"It's fine, it's fine — it'll be over soon. You know me, it's not the first time!"
Ethan Rivers clutched his left wrist tightly with his right hand, pressing hard to dull the pain. He forced a smile and waved off his friend's concern.
"I swear, you're impossible. It's just a few hundred bucks for an exam fee — why torture yourself over it?"
The handsome boy frowned, clearly annoyed by his friend's tendency to endure pain just to save money.
"Today's our last day of middle school. Before graduation tomorrow, you're coming to the hospital with me — no excuses. I'll cover the fee. We need to figure out what's wrong with that wrist."
"I'm serious! You can't just ignore it — I heard about someone's birthmark changing color and the skin around it started rotting… it spread to his face and left him disfigured!"
Ethan's friend spoke in an ominous tone, exaggerating to make his point.
Despite the sweat on his forehead from the sharp, needle-like pain, Ethan managed a helpless smile. His friend's dramatics always amused him.
Still, he couldn't help but worry. His eyes flicked nervously toward his left wrist.
There, a round birthmark about the size of a coin glowed faintly — half a dark, unhealthy red and the other half a sickly pale white. It almost resembled the red-and-white design of a Poké Ball.
His friend had joked once that with a Poké Ball-shaped birthmark, Ethan was destined to become a Pokémon Master someday.
"A Pokémon Master? That stupid title?"
Ethan shook his head, remembering the bumbling yet courageous trainers he'd seen on TV.
They might look foolish, but they had a bravery most people lacked. Still, he smirked and muttered that "Flying-type Pokémon Master" suited them better.
Suddenly, a sharp jolt of pain snapped him back to reality.
"Ugh…"
Beside him, his friend was still rambling.
"It shouldn't be that serious…" Ethan muttered, trying to convince himself.
But the more he thought about skin festering and spreading, the colder he felt.
"It definitely can't be," he told himself — yet doubt lingered.
If it was something like cancer, could his family even afford treatment?
He shook his head quickly to banish the thought.
Just as his mind cleared, he noticed something strange — the classroom had gone quiet. Everyone's attention was suddenly on them.
Ethan shot his friend a look that clearly said, we're dead.
"Why are you staring at me like that? I'm not finished — you really need to go to the hospital with me tomorrow!"
"Go to the hospital? What hospital?"
A familiar, booming voice cut in.
"You, Zack Holt, the so-called 'Iron Fist of Brookdale,' need a hospital? Didn't you send the class bully to the hospital yesterday?"
"What's this — a guilty conscience? Planning to visit him already?"
The middle-aged teacher's stern voice echoed across the room.
Zack froze, eyes wide. He slowly turned his glare toward Ethan, silently cursing him for not warning him sooner.
"Mr. Holt, why so quiet? Stand up and answer me!"
With a nervous chuckle, Zack rose to his feet and scratched his head.
"Ahaha… You're right, sir. Fighting's a bad habit. I've decided to turn over a new leaf! I was just saying I'd go visit the poor guy in the hospital tomorrow."
The teacher narrowed his eyes but let it go. "Fine. Since it's your last day, I'll give you one last chance. Answer my next question correctly, and I'll forget about this incident."
Without waiting for a reply, the teacher asked,"Tell me — which Pokémon have the Aerilate Ability?"
(Aerilate?)
Ethan perked up. That Ability converts Normal-type moves into Flying-type and boosts their power. He knew the answer instantly.
But before he could whisper it, Zack puffed up confidently.
"Aerilate? Easy! It's gotta belong to some Flying-type Pokémon. Pidgeot's so majestic — he definitely has it!"
Ethan's jaw dropped.
What on earth was that answer?
The class erupted in laughter. Zack, however, remained perfectly calm — years of detention had given him skin thicker than a Steelix's hide.
Under the desk, he subtly tapped Ethan's arm for help.
Ethan sighed and whispered, "Not in their base forms. Only Mega Pinsir and Mega Salamence have Aerilate."
Zack repeated it proudly, "The answer's Mega Pinsir and Mega Salamence!"
The teacher shot a knowing glance at Ethan but said nothing. "Correct. Sit down, Holt. You're lucky."
The class quieted, though snickers lingered.
Then the teacher turned to Ethan. "Rivers, if you're unwell, go to the infirmary. No point sitting here in pain on the last day."
Relieved, Ethan nodded. "Thank you, sir. I'll go now."
He grabbed his bag, shot Zack a look that said don't do anything stupid, and left.
Moments later, Zack jumped up. "Uh, teacher! My stomach hurts too! I'll walk Ethan to the nurse's office!"
Ignoring his teacher's glare, Zack bolted out of the room after him.
In the hallway, Zack walked with his hands behind his head, grinning.
"So, summer break starts tomorrow. When we come back, it's high school — and you know what that means. The League lets us get our first Pokémon! Got any ideas yet?"
Ethan glanced sideways. "Who says I'm going to be a trainer? Maybe I'll just apply to a regular school."
"Yeah right," Zack scoffed. "We've been friends for three years — I know you better than that."
"The day Lian Province Trainer Academy sent that message recruiting new students, you practically sparkled reading it."
Ethan sighed. "Dreams are one thing, reality's another. Not everyone can afford the trainer's path."
Zack stopped walking and looked him straight in the eye. "Then what about all the research you did? Beedrill, Butterfree, Ariados, Dustox, even Spearow and Taillow — you were studying Bug and Flying Pokémon nonstop."
Caught, Ethan raised his hands. "Alright, alright — you got me. I do want to be a trainer. But with my family's finances, I can't afford anything fancy. I'll probably start with a Bug-type — they evolve fast and don't cost as much to raise."
Zack frowned. "If it's just money, let me help. You can pay me back later."
Ethan laughed. "You make it sound easy. And what, buy a Scyther? You think those are just lying around?"
"I could get one in a week if you wanted," Zack said seriously.
Ethan chuckled and quickly changed the subject. "Forget me. What about you? What's your starter going to be?"
Zack sighed. "No clue. My family's trying to track down a wild pseudo-legendary hatchling, but you know how rare they are. If not, I'll probably pick one of the classic starters — the 'Big Three'."
The term made Ethan smile faintly. In this world, the "Big Three" referred to Pokémon that evolved quickly and had strong final forms — the Grass, Water, and Fire starters.
Listening to Zack, Ethan couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and frustration. While his friend's family searched for pseudo-legendaries, he was looking up common Bug-types.
Still, there wasn't a trace of envy in his heart — only gratitude. In this second life of his, he valued the people around him more than anything.