Footsteps echoed softly in the hallway.
Rhea pushed open the door to her son's room, a tray of folded towels in her hands. The sight that greeted her made her heart skip.
Leyn was awake—already sitting up by the window, staring outside with a dazed but peaceful look.
"Leyn! You should be resting!" she gasped, hurrying toward him. The towels tumbled onto the desk as she reached his side.
"What are you doing out of bed?"
He blinked, startled. "Ah—Mom, I'm fine. Really."
Rhea frowned and pressed her palm to his forehead. Her touch was cool, her brows knitted with worry. After a moment, her expression softened slightly. "Your fever's gone down… thank goodness. Still, you shouldn't be walking around yet."
She guided him gently back to sit on the bed, fussing over his blanket.
"She's gentle…"
Her sky-blue hair shimmered faintly in the morning light, her black eyes full of warmth and resolve. She wore a pale apron over her casual clothes, the faint scent of herbs clinging to her from the kitchen.
Before Leyn could say anything, a familiar voice came from the door.
"Morning, champ."
Gerald leaned casually against the doorway, his lab coat slung over one arm. His black hair was neatly combed for once, and his purple eyes gleamed with quiet intelligence and humor.
"Oh, good," Rhea sighed in relief, turning toward him. "He's awake, but he's already trying to walk around."
Gerald chuckled. "That's our Leyn, alright."
He stepped closer, resting a hand gently on his son's shoulder. "How're you feeling, kiddo?"
"I'm okay now, Dad," Leyn replied softly. "Just a bit lightheaded."
"Still," Rhea said firmly, "you're not leaving that bed today."
Gerald smiled, defeated. "Guess I'll be the only one heading to the lab, then."
"Of course you will," Rhea replied, her lips curving faintly upward. "I already told Professor Oak I'd be taking a leave to look after him."
He nodded as he slipped on his lab coat. "Good. The Professor will understand. We'll manage fine for a day."
Turning back to his son, he said, "Your mom's staying home today, so behave and rest, alright?"
"Okay," Leyn said with a small nod.
Rhea brushed a hand through his hair and smiled. "I'll bring you breakfast in a bit. Something light—porridge, maybe."
"Thanks, Mom."
She gave his cheek a quick pat before leaving the room. Gerald lingered by the
door for a moment longer, adjusting the strap of his coat.
"I'll head out first," he said. "Rest up, Leyn. I'll see you later."
"Alright. Bye, Dad."
He smiled and closed the door behind him.
The room fell quiet again. The curtain swayed gently as a breeze slipped in, carrying the chirps of morning Pidgey outside.
Leyn sank back against his pillow, the blanket drawn up to his chest. His gaze wandered to the ceiling, then the window.
"So this is my family here… Mom and Dad, both researchers for Professor Oak.."
"It feels… normal. Peaceful. Maybe too peaceful, after what happened last night.."
He tilted his head slightly, watching the soft light spill across the floorboards.
"It's strange… I should be panicking. But somehow, I feel calm.."
His eyes softened.
"Maybe it's because… I finally feel like I belong somewhere.."
He smiled faintly, his eyelids growing heavier.
"Alright, Pokémon world… let's see what kind of life you've got in store for me.."
Leym laid back in his bed to continue sleeping and to recover some strength.
------------------------------------------------------
The faint creak of the door broke the silence of the room.
"Leyn? Can I come in?"
Her voice was soft — gentle and clear, like the cool breeze that slipped through the half-open window.
Leyn blinked, still half-dazed, as he turned his head toward the door. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice a little hoarse.
The door opened with a quiet click, and Rhea stepped in carefully, balancing a tray with both hands. The aroma of warm porridge and fresh-cut Oran berries spread across the air, chasing away the faint medicinal smell that lingered from the night before.
Rhea's sky-blue hair was loosely tied back, a few strands brushing against her cheeks as she smiled in relief. "You're awake. That's good. I was starting to worry you'd sleep through the morning."
"Couldn't really," Leyn said with a faint grin. "The sun's too bright."
Rhea chuckled softly. "Excuses already? You haven't even recovered yet."
She set the tray down on his bedside table and adjusted the blanket around his legs, her movements careful and practiced — the kind that came from years of looking after small scrapes, late nights, and the occasional fever.
Leyn looked up at her. There was a calmness in her black eyes, but also the faint shadow of exhaustion. He wondered if she had stayed up all night.
"You didn't sleep much, did you Mom?" he asked.
She blinked in surprise, then smiled wryly. "You could tell?"
"Kind of hard not to. You've got that look."
Rhea laughed quietly, shaking her head. "You're too observant for your own good. You get that from your father, you know."
Leyn's gaze softened. "Where is he?"
"He already left for the lab," Rhea said, her voice light but fond. "He wanted to stay, but I told him I'd taken a leave. It's my turn to take care of you today."
"Right…" Leyn murmured. He hesitated, then smiled faintly. "Thanks, Mom."
Rhea ruffled his hair affectionately. "You can thank me by finishing this breakfast."
She handed him the tray, the steam rising from the bowl curling like thin ribbons in the sunlight. The porridge was simple — rice, milk, and a hint of sweet Pecha fruit. It smelled plain, but comforting.
Leyn took the spoon and stirred it absentmindedly. "You didn't have to make this yourself. I could've just eaten whatever was left from dinner."
"You're my son," Rhea said, feigning indignation. "What kind of mother would I be if I let my sick boy eat leftovers?"
He chuckled. "A practical one?"
She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. "You and your father both say that word too often. Practical this, efficient that…"
He laughed quietly, and she joined him. The sound filled the small room — bright, soft, and full of warmth.
When the laughter faded, Rhea's expression gentled again. "You scared us last night, you know."
Leyn froze, mid-bite.
"Your fever was so high," she continued, voice barely above a whisper. "You were mumbling in your sleep — saying strange things I couldn't understand. We almost took you to the hospital, but Professor Oak came over and gave us medicine. He said it should bring the fever down."
Her fingers toyed with the edge of the blanket, her eyes distant. "I barely slept. I just kept watching you breathe."
Leyn lowered his gaze to the bowl. "Sorry…"
Rhea's head lifted immediately. "No, no. Don't say that. You didn't do anything wrong. Just… try not to scare us again, okay?"
He gave a small, sheepish nod. "I'll do my best."
She smiled again, that tender, unshakable smile that only a mother could give.
The quiet stretched between them, filled only by the chirping of Pidgey outside and the faint ticking of the Poké Ball-shaped clock on the wall.
Leyn glanced at it — 10:42 AM now. The seconds ticked by in steady rhythm, matching his slow, even breaths.
"2 hours had passed since I slept Huh… Its too peaceful.." he thought.
His eyes wandered across the room — the familiar desk covered in pencils and scattered papers, the old computer humming faintly, the little model of a PokeBall on the shelf. Everything was ordinary, yet somehow sharper, warmer, more vivid.
"It feels like I'm noticing everything for the first time.."
He brought another spoonful of porridge to his mouth, and the warmth spread through him again — not just from the food, but from the feeling that this moment mattered.
Rhea's voice pulled him back. "Are you thinking about something?"
He blinked. "Huh? Oh… I was just thinking about the lab."
"The lab?"
"Yeah," he said, trying to sound casual. "I just… miss seeing the Pokémon there."
Her eyes softened with amusement. "You really can't stay away, can you?"
He rubbed his neck sheepishly. "Guess not."
Rhea leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "You remind me of your father when he first started working with Professor Oak. Always eager, always curious. You're going to be just like him one day."
Leyn looked down, smiling faintly. "Maybe."
She reached out, brushing a stray lock of his sky-blue hair behind his ear. "But for now, you're my patient. So, finish that breakfast and rest. That's an order."
He saluted weakly with his spoon. "Yes, ma'am."
Rhea chuckled, standing up and picking up the tray. "I'll bring you something lighter for lunch. And no sneaking out of bed, understood?"
"Got it."
She paused at the doorway and turned back, her voice gentle. "I'll be right downstairs if you need anything."
The door closed softly behind her.
Leyn sat in silence for a moment, listening to the faint sounds of dishes clinking in the kitchen below. He leaned back against the pillows and exhaled slowly.
"Mom really…Worries to much.." he shaking his head as he sighed.
The sunlight filtered through the window, catching motes of dust that danced lazily in the air. He stared at them for a long while, then let his gaze wander to the window where a few Pidgey perched on the fence outside.
"Pokémon… They're really here.."
He smiled unconsciously, warmth spreading through his chest.
"I don't know what's going on, but… it feels right.. It feels like I belong here.."
His eyelids grew heavy, and before he knew it, the sounds of the morning faded into the quiet rhythm of falling asleep again.