The Pokemon Center at Pewter City's outskirts had facilities that exceeded Miyuki's expectations. Nurse Joy provided access to a full breeding suite, temperature-controlled incubation chambers, advanced monitoring equipment, even consultation with a Dragon-type specialist on staff. By midday, Ryu's egg sat in professional care, every vital sign tracked and recorded.
"We can leave it here during the day," Miyuki explained as they gathered in the Center's lobby. "I'll check in every few hours, but the automated systems will alert me if anything changes." She looked genuinely relieved for the first time since finding the egg. "It's safe."
"Which means we can actually explore Pewter City outskirts," Kasumi said, already pulling up her phone's map application. "I want to check the berry markets. Mountain regions always have unique cultivars."
Kiyomi adjusted her camera strap. "Dr. Takeshi's fossil collection."
They split up with the easy comfort of people who trusted each other to regroup later. The afternoon sun painted everything in shades of gray and amber, the city's stone construction reflecting light like polished metal.
Kasumi took Route 3, the eastern path out of Pewter City that wound through foothills before connecting to Mount Moon. Her phone's navigation insisted the berry markets were downtown, but her instincts pulled her toward wild spaces. Cultivated berries were fine, but the interesting discoveries happened in nature.
The path narrowed after a kilometer, pavement giving way to packed dirt. Fewer travelers used this section, mostly hikers and Pokemon researchers. Scrub vegetation lined the route, hardy plants adapted to rocky soil and thin air. A Geodude rolled past, indifferent to her presence.
Then she smelled it.
Sweetness on the wind, concentrated and complex. Not the simple sugar-scent of common Oran berries, but something layered. Floral notes mixed with citrus, underlaid with earthy depth. Her heart rate quickened. That smell meant something unusual.
Kasumi left the path, pushing through waist-high grass toward the scent's source. Her sneakers squelched through a hidden stream, cold water soaking through canvas. She didn't care. The smell intensified with every step.
The grove appeared without warning, a natural depression sheltered by three large boulders, creating a microclimate protected from wind. Sunlight filtered through gaps in the rock, dappling everything gold. And covering every available surface: berry bushes.
Kasumi stopped, breath catching.
These weren't normal berry plants. The bushes stood taller than her, branches thick and gnarled with age. The berries themselves hung in clusters, each fruit showing a dual-color pattern she'd never seen in the wild. One half displayed the pale yellow of Qualot berries, the other the deep crimson of Pomeg berries. But they weren't separate fruits growing side by side, each individual berry showed both colors, blended at the center in swirls of orange and pink.
"Hybrid," she whispered. "Natural hybrid."
Wild Pokemon moved through the grove. A Cherubi hung from one branch, its twin cherries bobbing as it fed. Several Jumpluff drifted overhead, cotton-ball bodies catching updrafts. A Skiploom rested near the stream, petals closed against the afternoon sun.
Kasumi approached slowly, hands visible, making no sudden movements. The wild Pokemon watched her with alert but not hostile eyes. She stopped at the grove's edge, not entering their space without permission.
"Hi there," she said quietly. "I'm not here to take anything without asking. I just want to look."
The Cherubi tilted its body, head? Both cherries moved in tandem, examining her. Then it chirped, a high-pitched sound that might have been greeting or challenge.
Kasumi pulled out her Coordinator credentials, holographic card issued by the Contest Hall Federation. "I'm a berry researcher. See? I study them, cultivate them, help them grow better." She held up her phone, showing photos of her mobile greenhouse. "These are my plants. I take care of them."
The Jumpluff descended closer, bodies swaying in invisible currents. One landed on her extended hand, weighed almost nothing. It examined her phone screen, cotton fluff brushing against the glass. Then it chirped to the others.
The Cherubi hopped down from its branch, bouncing across the ground on its stem. It approached the nearest hybrid bush, plucked a berry with surprising delicacy, and rolled it toward Kasumi's feet.
An offering. Or a test.
Kasumi knelt, picked up the berry carefully. It felt warm from the sun, skin smooth and unblemished. She examined the color pattern, definitely both Qualot and Pomeg genetics, but stable. Not a random mutation, but a true hybrid that could reproduce.
"This is incredible," she said, more to herself than the Pokemon. "Qualot berries reduce Special Defense but enhance toughness. Pomeg berries reduce HP slightly but boost health recovery speed. Combined..." She ran calculations in her head. "Contest Appeals that showcase endurance while maintaining visual appeal. The Pokemon takes dramatic hits but recovers visibly during performance. Judges love recovery displays."
The wild Pokemon had gathered now, forming a loose semicircle around her. Watchful. Waiting.
"I'd like to take some cuttings," Kasumi said, addressing them directly. "Not the berries themselves, you need those for food. But small branch sections I can propagate in my greenhouse. I'll grow new plants from your grove, and in exchange..." She thought quickly. "I'll leave you fertilizer. Special blend that'll make your bushes produce more fruit. Everyone benefits."
The Cherubi and Jumpluff exchanged looks, actual communication, some language she couldn't speak but could recognize. The Skiploom finally stirred, petals opening to reveal its face. It floated over, examined Kasumi with intelligent eyes, then nodded.
Agreement.
"Thank you." Kasumi pulled out her berry cultivation kit, small pruning shears, sample bags, rooting hormone. She moved into the grove carefully, selecting branches that could be cut without harming the main plant. Three cuttings from different bushes, ensuring genetic diversity. Each went into its own bag with moistened growing medium.
The wild Pokemon watched her work. Precise cuts at forty-five-degree angles. Wounds treated with antiseptic powder to prevent infection. No damage to berry clusters or primary growth nodes. Professional harvest from someone who knew plants.
When she finished, Kasumi pulled out three packets of fertilizer from her bag, high-quality stuff from Goldenrod City's agricultural district, her mother's own blend. She scattered it around the base of the three bushes she'd taken from, working it into the soil with her fingers.
"Give it a week," she told the Cherubi. "You'll see bigger berries, more flowers. The whole grove will benefit."
The Grass-type chirped happily, already digging into the fertilized soil.
Kasumi stood, brushed dirt from her hands, and bowed to the assembled Pokemon. "Thank you for sharing. I'll take good care of these."
The walk back to Route 3 felt lighter, samples secure in her bag. Her mind raced with possibilities. Qualot-Pomeg hybrids could revolutionize Contest performances. The visual appeal of watching a Pokemon endure and recover, all while the berry's compounds enhanced the dramatic effect. She needed to test viability, growth rates, cultivation requirements. Months of work, but potentially groundbreaking.
She reached the Pokemon Center as afternoon faded to evening. The others had already returned, Sasuke preparing dinner in the Mobile Home's kitchen, Miyuki checking Ryu's egg readings, Kiyomi uploading fossil photos to her laptop.
"Find anything good?" Miyuki asked as Kasumi climbed aboard.
"Look at this." Kasumi pulled out one cutting, held it up to the light. The leaves showed the same dual-coloring as the berries, yellow-green veins through darker green tissue. "Natural Qualot-Pomeg hybrid. Growing wild in a protected grove east of the city."
Kiyomi's head snapped up from her laptop. "Show me."
Kasumi brought the cuttings to the dining table, spreading them out. Kiyomi examined each one with her researcher's intensity, taking photos, making notes. "The genetic stability is remarkable. Usually hybrid berries revert to one parent species within a generation, but these look like true breeding hybrids."
"That's what I thought." Kasumi pulled up her cultivation notes. "I'm going to propagate them in the greenhouse attachment. If they root successfully, I'll have viable plants within two weeks."
"What's the cultivation difficulty?" Kiyomi asked.
"Unknown. That's the experiment." Kasumi started sketching greenhouse layout in her notebook. "I'll need to maintain the microclimate conditions from the grove, temperature, humidity, soil composition. Then track growth rates, berry production, genetic stability across generations."
Kiyomi nodded slowly. "You know, ancient civilizations bred berries too. I found references in Pewter Museum archives, pre-modern agriculture focused heavily on berry cultivation for Pokemon nutrition and medicine. They developed strains we've lost to history."
"Really?" Kasumi leaned forward. "What kind of strains?"
"Records are fragmentary, but mention berries that could cure status conditions instantly, others that enhanced Pokemon abilities temporarily. Some descriptions match modern berries, others describe properties we can't replicate." Kiyomi pulled up scanned documents on her laptop. "Look at this tablet rubbing. Ancient Kanto farmers created berry cultivation manuals preserved in stone."
Kasumi studied the images. Crude drawings showed berry plants with careful annotations in archaic text. "Can you read this?"
"Some. Basic agricultural instructions, planting depth, sun exposure, harvest timing. But there's also sections on..." Kiyomi squinted at the screen. "Ceremonial aspects? They believed berries held spiritual significance. Growing them required proper rituals and Pokemon partnership."
"The wild Pokemon in the grove were protective," Kasumi said thoughtfully. "They let me take cuttings only after I showed respect and offered something in return. Maybe that's what the ancient texts mean, partnership, not just cultivation."
"Collaborative agriculture." Kiyomi's eyes lit up. "Pokemon maintaining berry groves, humans providing care and protection. Mutual benefit, like the bonding rituals I've been researching. Everything connects back to partnership."
They talked for another hour, comparing notes, drawing connections between ancient agricultural practices and modern berry science. Kasumi showed Kiyomi her propagation techniques. Kiyomi shared archaeological findings about berry cultivation sites. Ideas formed and reformed, building toward something neither could have developed alone.
"We should write a paper," Kiyomi said eventually. "Combined research, archaeological evidence of ancient berry cultivation and modern propagation of naturally occurring hybrids. Bridge historical practice with contemporary science."
"I'm just a Coordinator," Kasumi protested.
"You're a berry scientist who happens to be a Coordinator," Kiyomi corrected. "Don't diminish your expertise. This research is publishable quality."
Sasuke appeared from the kitchen carrying plates. "Dinner. Stop working and eat."
The aroma hit Kasumi before she saw the food, sweet and savory, complex spices over perfectly cooked meat. He'd prepared steaks with a berry reduction sauce, roasted vegetables, and rice. The presentation looked restaurant-quality, each element carefully plated.
"Is that Pecha berry in the sauce?" Kasumi asked, recognizing the sweet-tart flavor.
"Pecha and Rawst, reduced with wine and honey." Sasuke set plates in front of each of them. "Complements the meat without overwhelming it."
Miyuki took a bite, eyes widening. "This is incredible. Where did you learn to make reductions?"
"Crown Tundra. Dad and I had limited ingredients, so I experimented with berry combinations to add variety." Sasuke sat down with his own plate. "Turns out berries work better than traditional sauces for meat. Something about the genetic compatibility."
Kasumi ate slowly, savoring each bite. The meat was tender, perfectly seasoned. The berry reduction added complexity without sweetness overload. The vegetables provided textural contrast. Everything balanced.
"You're wasted as just a trainer," she said. "This is professional chef-level cooking."
"Cooking's just a hobby."
"A hobby you're better at than most professionals." Kasumi pointed her fork at him for emphasis. "You and I should open a restaurant together after the journey. Berry-focused cuisine, Pokemon-friendly dining. We'd make a fortune."
Sasuke laughed, but something flickered in his expression, consideration, maybe. "You want to run a restaurant between Contest performances and berry research?"
"Why not? We'd be partners. I handle the berry cultivation and menu design, you handle the actual cooking. Miyuki consults on Pokemon nutrition, Kiyomi provides historical recipes from ancient civilizations." Kasumi was warming to the idea, imagining it. "Call it... 'The Berry Grove' or something. Elegant but approachable."
"The Berry Grove," Miyuki repeated, testing the name. "I like it."
"Very marketable," Kiyomi added. "And legitimately unique. No one's doing berry-focused fine dining with historical influences."
"We're getting ahead of ourselves," Sasuke said, but he was smiling. "We have badges to earn and ribbons to win first."
"But after," Kasumi pressed. "After all that. We could really do this. Build something together."
The word hung in the air, together. Not just the journey, not just temporary traveling companions, but something with permanence. A shared future beyond the Silver Conference and Championship battles.
Miyuki set down her fork, silver hair catching the overhead light. "I'd be part of this theoretical restaurant?"
"Obviously," Kasumi said. "You're one of us. Any future we build includes all four."
Kiyomi nodded agreement. Sasuke's smile had gone softer, almost vulnerable. For a moment, Kasumi saw past his usual composed exterior to something younger, more hopeful. Someone who'd spent three years alone in Crown Tundra, training with only his father and Pokemon for company. Someone who maybe hadn't let himself imagine a future with people in it.
"The Berry Grove," he said finally. "I could see that."
"Then it's decided." Kasumi raised her water glass. "After we conquer the League, we're going into business together."
They clinked glasses, plastic camping cups, nothing fancy, but the gesture felt ceremonial. A promise made over dinner, four people committing to something beyond their individual dreams.
After eating, Kasumi set up her greenhouse attachment. The unit mounted to the RV's exterior, a small glass box with climate controls and grow lights. She prepared rooting medium, planted her three hybrid cuttings, and set the system to match the grove's microclimate, temperature, humidity, light cycle all calibrated.
The cuttings looked fragile under the grow lights, just small branches torn from their mother plants. But Kasumi knew what they could become. Given time, care, and proper conditions, these cuttings would root. They'd grow into bushes. They'd produce berries. And those berries would represent something larger, connection between ancient practice and modern science, between wild Pokemon and human cultivation, between individual expertise and collaborative research.
She sealed the greenhouse, activated the monitoring system, and stepped back.
"Good luck, little guys," she whispered.
Inside the Mobile Home, Sasuke had started making dessert, berry tarts using the Pecha and Rawst berries left over from the reduction sauce. The kitchen filled with the smell of baking pastry and caramelizing sugar. Miyuki sat at the dining table reviewing egg incubation data, occasionally glancing at Sasuke's cooking with soft expressions. Kiyomi had returned to her fossil research, but her notes now included agricultural archaeology sections.
Kasumi joined them, settling onto the couch where she could watch everyone. Her family by choice, assembled around a dinner table in a Mobile Home parked at the edge of Pewter City. Not where she'd imagined herself at nineteen, but exactly where she wanted to be.
The dessert came out perfect, golden pastry, berry filling that was sweet without being cloying, presentation that would've impressed Contest judges. Sasuke served it still warm, steam rising from lattice-cut tops.
"Okay, seriously," Kasumi said after the first bite. "We're definitely opening that restaurant."
Sasuke just smiled, but he didn't argue.
Outside, evening settled over Pewter City. Tomorrow would bring gym challenges, research, Contest preparation. But tonight, they had this, shared food, shared dreams, shared future possibility.
The Berry Grove was just an idea now.
But every great thing started as an idea between friends.