"Good morning, Rosa."
After finishing the morning milking with the Miltank, Wade pushed open the farmhouse door to see her stepping into the hall.
"Morn— Good morning, big brother!"
At the sight of him, Rosa's cheeks flushed. She looked down, suddenly shy. Her clothes from yesterday had been soaked through, so this morning she wore a dark blue turtleneck sweater. The soft knit draped beautifully, hinting at her figure.
"After breakfast, let's go fishing by the lake," Wade said, smiling as he gently ruffled her soft brown hair. With the farm's planting nearly complete, they could afford a leisurely day.
"Fishing?!" Rosa's eyes lit up.
"Serperior!" Her partner echoed, just as eager.
Hiyori Town Farm. The Lake.
A Lotad sipping water by the shore glanced up, spotted the approaching group, and let out a startled cry.
"Lotad!"
It promptly ejected a water jet and scrambled into the nearby reeds.
After their daily chores—watering the crops and berry seedlings on the hillside, and scattering feed for the pasture Miltank—Wade led Rosa and their Pokémon to the lakeside.
"Wow, it's so big!" Rosa breathed, taking in the vast, mist-veiled water.
The sky was clearing, crimson dawn bleeding from the east and staining the lake a translucent agate. A Wingull skimmed the surface, its snowy wake churning the water into a thousand glittering gold foils where the morning sun broke through. Rosa realized she'd had no idea this hidden lake existed on the farm.
"Alright, time to relax," Wade said, distributing well-worn rods from the storage shed. He found a promising spot—where lily pads clustered and a small stream fed in—and cast his line, a nugget of special Pokémon food secured on the hook.
Beside him, Skitty mimicked his actions with fierce concentration. With a tiny grunt, she managed to heave her own baited hook into the mirror-still water.
"Meowth!"
She stared, tail-tip twitching, waiting. What would bite first?
Minutes drifted by like the leaves floating from the trees. A Beautifly brushed a budding flower. Just as the breeze was lulling Skitty into a doze, the rod under her paws gave a violent jerk.
"Meowth?!"
She was instantly awake, scrambling to grip it. The rod bent dangerously as something fought below. She pulled back with all her might, but the angle grew sharper, the strain too great. With a final, frustrated tug, she tumbled backwards, holding only the snapped tip of her rod. Her ears drooped.
"It's okay, you did great for a first try," Wade said, offering a comforting smile. "The trick isn't raw strength. You have to be patient, let them tire themselves out fighting. Wait for the right moment, then lift decisively."
As if on cue, his own rod dipped sharply.
"Watch closely," he said, his easygoing demeanor snapping into focused calm.
Skitty watched, amazed. The Trainer didn't just pull; he angled the rod, gave line, then reeled in with smooth, controlled motions. The frantic thrashing below quickly subsided.
With a final, sparkling crash, a brilliant red Magikarp arced out of the water, sunlight glinting off its scales.
"Meowth!"
Skitty's eyes shone. I want to learn that!
Skitty was clearly enraptured by the Trainer's skillful display.
Wade's fishing plan, however, hit a snag. Only half an hour later, he stared into the basket at his catch: a collection of Magikarp, each one flopping uselessly with a wet splash.
"Another one? Why is it always Magikarp?!"
He knew their potential—the fearsome Gyarados they could become—but the sheer monotony was defeating. With a long-suffering sigh, he rebaited his hook and cast his line back into the shimmering water.
Patience, he told himself, was the true test of an angler.
Finally, after what felt like the hundredth Magikarp, the tug on his line was different. It wasn't the frantic, clumsy jerking of the dopey fish. This was a sharper, more cunning resistance.
His focus snapped back. He played the line expertly, reeling against the pull until a familiar, yet deeply unusual, shape broke the surface.
A Feebas. But not as the world typically saw it.
As the hooked Pokémon cleared the water, a soft, prismatic light shimmered around it. The form shifted, scales smoothing into pale, pearlescent skin, fins dissolving into strands of delicate, water-slicked hair. In moments, where a feeble fish had struggled, now a slender girl with large, melancholic eyes and a faint, opalescent sheen knelt on the grass, the fishing hook caught gently in the hem of her simple, scale-patterned dress.
A Pokémon Girl.
This was the unique, secret blessing of Wade's connection to this world—a form seen only by him, and by those he chose to share it with. It was a compromise his mind had made, a way to bridge the profound bond he felt with these creatures and his own human perceptions. Seeing them battle in their natural forms was one thing; sharing the quieter, more intimate moments of life on the farm felt... different this way. More natural. More real.
He smiled, offering a hand to help the Feebas-girl up. "Well, you're a wonderful surprise."
Hiyori Town. Road to the Farm.
"Olivia? Status report."
A voice, sharp with impatience, crackled from a communicator.
The blonde woman wearing square glasses held the device slightly away from her ear. "Just arrived in Hiyori Town, Supervisor," she replied, her tone flat.
A researcher by passion, Olivia was now a corporate envoy by necessity. A chronic shortage of field staff at Silph Co. meant she'd been pulled from her lab and assigned this grunt work: travel to the middle of nowhere and secure a purchasing agreement for Miltank raw milk from some local farm.
"Do not underestimate this, Olivia," the supervisor's voice buzzed, relentless. "We have intelligence. Several Sinnoh-based firms are circling. Your mandate is to secure exclusive agency rights. Use whatever... persuasion is necessary. Do you understand?"
"Understood."
The single word was cool, final. Olivia's gaze was already fixed past the town's rustic sign, toward the rolling hills of the farm in the distance. With a precise click, she terminated the call, silencing the din.
The quiet of the countryside settled around her. Her mission was straightforward, a simple transaction. Or so she thought, as she began the walk down the dirt path, her heels sinking slightly into the soft earth.
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