Zaraki never slowed down to wait.
He moved forward, always at the same pace, no matter what was following him. Human, Pokémon, injured or not. In the slums, stopping for someone meant accepting to die with them.
The Eevee followed.
Not well.
Not fast.
But it followed.
Its poorly healed paw hit the ground unevenly. Every misstep sent a sharp pain through its body. It panted, tongue hanging out, muscles trembling. Several times, it almost fell.
Zaraki could hear it.
He didn't turn around.
If it falls and doesn't get up, that's it.
If it gets up, then it deserves to keep going.
They arrived at a vacant lot, surrounded by the skeletons of buildings. A perfect place: no witnesses, no easy escape, uneven ground.
Zaraki came to an abrupt stop.
Eevee, startled, nearly ran into him.
— Here.
Just one word.
Zaraki placed his coat on the ground. He took off his gloves. His hands were covered with old, poorly healed scars. Hands that had struck too often to remember why.
He turned to Eevee.
— Attack me.
Eevee blinked.
Stepped back.
Zaraki stepped forward.
Not fast.
Not hard.
But straight at him.
Eevee jumped clumsily, tried to bite. Zaraki grabbed his neck, lifted the animal roughly, and threw him to the ground.
Not violently.
But enough to knock the wind out of him.
— Too slow.
Eevee squeaked, tried to get up.
Zaraki placed his foot next to his head. Just beside it.
— If this were a real fight, you'd be dead.
He withdrew his foot.
— Again.
The minutes passed.
Then the hours.
Zaraki attacked without warning. Changed pace. Suddenly accelerated, then stopped, watching. He struck with his body, never with rage. Each blow was calculated to unbalance, to make people fall, to expose a weakness.
The Eevee fell often.
Always got up.
His paws trembled. His breathing became hoarse. Several times, he stayed on the ground for a second too long.
Zaraki was waiting.
Without helping.
— Standing.
No threat.
No encouragement.
A naked order.
Eevee was getting back up.
At one point, the Eevee cracked.
He refused to move forward.
His paws sank into the ground, his body stretched back. A faint, almost desperate growl.
Zaraki stopped.
He looked at him for a long time.
Then he spoke.
"Do you think I don't give a damn that you're suffering?"
The Eevee looked up.
"The world doesn't care.
Zaraki took a step forward.
"He will kill you without hesitation." He won't stop because you're in pain. It won't slow down because you're tired.
He leaned over slightly.
"If you want to stay with me, you'll learn one thing: pain is a signal, not an excuse.
Be quiet.
The rain began to fall again.
Eevee was shivering.
Then it stepped forward.
One step.
Then another.
Zaraki nodded.
— Good.
He increased the difficulty.
He threw debris. Not to hit. To make Eevee move. To anticipate. To stop freezing in place.
A piece of metal flew too close. Eevee jumped clumsily, landed badly, yelped.
Zaraki didn't move.
— Correct it.
Eevee tried to get up. Fell. Got up again.
He finally found an angle. A smoother movement. A proper dodge.
Zaraki stopped immediately.
There.
He stepped closer.
— See? When you think more about surviving than about getting hurt, your body follows.
Eevee was panting, exhausted.
— Again.
In the end, the Eevee couldn't take it anymore.
His paws were slipping. His vision was blurred. He finally collapsed, unable to get up.
Zaraki approached.
He remained standing above him.
For a long time.
Then he squatted.
"Look at me."
The Eevee opened one eye.
"If you stay here, you'll slow me down."
He put a hand on the floor.
"And I have no pity for what slows me down."
The Eevee tried to move.
Nothing.
Zaraki remained silent.
Then, against all expectations, he slipped his shoulder under the little body of the Eevee and lifted it.
Not gently.
But without dropping it.
— Today, you held on.
He straightened up.
— Tomorrow, I'll be tougher.
The Eevee, half-conscious, didn't understand the words.
But it understood the tone.
That night, they slept under a collapsed roof.
Zaraki stayed awake for a long time, back against the wall. Eevee slept against him, exhausted, covered in mud.
Zaraki watched him.
You will survive.
Or you will die.
He closed his eyes.
But you will never be weak.
In a Pokémon world that gave no second chances, Zaraki was not forging a partner.
He was forging something capable of standing by his side.