The Mauville Pokémon Center cafeteria was significantly larger than the main lobby,a sprawling space filled with long tables, each occupied by trainers and their Pokémon in various states of breakfast consumption. The air smelled like coffee, eggs, and the distinctive smell of baked bread.

  Micah joined the line, Donny pressed against his legs as always, and surveyed the offerings. Standard human breakfast fare,eggs, toast, fruit, various pastries,alongside specialized Pokémon nutrition organized by type. He loaded a tray with scrambled eggs, toast, and juice for himself, then filled a bowl with the Rock-type starter formula the nurse had recommended yesterday.

  Finding a table was easier than expected,most trainers gravitated toward the center of the room, leaving the edges relatively empty. Micah claimed a small table near the window and set Donny's bowl on the floor. The Rhyhorn attacked breakfast with the same enthusiasm it brought to everything, which is to say complete and total commitment.

  While Donny ate, Micah studied the room's occupants. Mostly young trainers,probably between ten and sixteen,though scattered older individuals suggested Mauville attracted more experienced travelers too. The Pokémon were predominantly Hoenn natives, Zigzagoon were everywhere, their distinctive brown-and-white coloring making them easy to spot. Several Electrike crackled with barely contained energy, apparently drawn to Mauville's electric atmosphere. A few Voltorb rested on tables, looking like oversized Poké Balls until they occasionally rotated to reveal their faces. Taillow perched on chairbacks, accepting offered food from their trainers with chirping gratitude.

  It was... normal.

  Completely, utterly normal. These were just kids with their Pokémon, eating breakfast, preparing for whatever adventures or training their days held. And Micah was one of them now. Not special, not unique,just another trainer starting out.

  The thought was simultaneously humbling and comforting.

  Donny finished eating and immediately attempted to climb onto Micah's lap,a process that involved scrambling at his legs and making demanding sounds until Micah helped. Once situated, the Rhyhorn settled with obvious contentment, apparently convinced that lap-occupancy was the natural state of existence.

  Micah ate his own breakfast one-handed, the other hand absently petting Donny's rocky hide, and pulled up Maxie's pamphlets on his PokeNav. Might as well read while eating.

  The first pamphlet,"Establishing Behavioral Boundaries",emphasized exactly what Maxie had mentioned last night. Short training sessions, positive reinforcement, consistent commands. It included a helpful chart of recommended starter commands:

  Come: Pokémon approaches trainer

  Stay: Pokémon remains in current position

  Stop: Pokémon ceases current action

  Down: Pokémon lowers itself (sitting/lying position)

  Release: Pokémon can resume normal behavior

  Simple enough. Though implementing them with a one-day-old Pokémon who could barely walk might prove challenging.

  By the time Micah finished eating and reading, it was approaching 9 AM. The cafeteria had cleared somewhat,early risers heading out for their day's activities, leaving space for later breakfast-seekers. Donny had fallen asleep in Micah's lap, apparently exhausted by the monumental effort of eating and existing.

  "Come on," Micah said gently, lifting his partner. "Let's find somewhere to train."

  The park Micah found was perfect,a decent-sized open space with grass that looked sturdy enough to handle Pokémon activity, scattered trees providing shade, and most importantly, relatively empty at this hour. A few other trainers occupied distant areas, but there was plenty of room for a newborn Rhyhorn to practice basic commands without disturbing anyone.

  Micah set Donny down on the grass and consulted the pamphlet again. Start with name recognition,make sure the Pokémon responds to its name consistently before moving to commands.

  "Donny," he said clearly, crouching to be at eye level. "Donny, look at me."

  The Rhyhorn, who had been investigating a nearby rock with intense focus, completely ignored him.

  "Donny. Hey, Donny."

  Still nothing. Apparently rocks were far more interesting than trainers.

  Micah tried a different approach,he walked a few steps away, then called again. "Donny!"

  That got attention. The Rhyhorn's head snapped up, clearly alarmed that Micah had moved without permission. It scrambled toward him immediately, pressing against his legs with obvious relief.

  "Good!" Micah praised, petting Donny's head. "That's good! You came when I called!"

  They repeated this several times,Micah moving a short distance, calling Donny's name, rewarding the approach with affection. After about ten minutes, Donny seemed to grasp the concept. Name meant attention, attention meant interaction, interaction was desirable.

  Progress.

  Next command: "Come." This was similar to name recognition but required approaching from a distance rather than just paying attention. Micah walked about ten feet away,as far as he dared without risking Donny's separation anxiety,and called clearly.

  "Donny, come!"

  The Rhyhorn tilted its head, confused. It knew its name, but this new word was unfamiliar.

  "Come! Donny, come here!"

  After several repetitions,and some gentle coaxing,Donny finally trotted over. Micah rewarded this with enthusiastic praise and treats the pamphlet had recommended (largely berries that Maxie gave him ).

  They drilled this for another fifteen minutes. Most attempts ended with Donny coming over eventually, though clearly more out of desire to be near Micah than understanding of the command itself. But that was okay,the pamphlet said comprehension would develop with repetition.

  "Stay" proved significantly more challenging. The concept of remaining in one place while Micah moved away contradicted every instinct Donny possessed. The first several attempts ended with Donny immediately following, apparently convinced that "stay" was just a weird noise that preceded walking.

  Micah tried different approaches,hand signals, firmer tone, explicit body language. Eventually, through sheer repetition, Donny managed to stay put for approximately three seconds before panicking and rushing over.

  "That's progress," Micah said, though he felt uncertain. Was this normal? Were all newborn Pokémon this difficult to train, or was Donny particularly stubborn?

  He checked his PokeNav. They'd been training for almost an hour. The pamphlet recommended short sessions,maybe it was time for a break.

  "Okay, Donny. Let's go on a little walk to cool off and explore."

  He started simple,could Donny walk in a straight line? Surprisingly, yes, though he did trip every once in a while. Could it turn in a circle? Yes. Could it back up on command?

  That one proved interesting. Donny seemed genuinely confused by the concept of moving backwards. Forward was natural, backwards was deeply suspicious. But with some careful coaxing,Micah gently pressing against Donny's horn-nub while saying "back",the Rhyhorn eventually figured it out.

  A few minutes later after resting on the grass with Donny by his side, Micah got up with a slight grin plastered on his face.

  He knew the pamphlet said to rest. He knew Donny was only a day old. But the image of him training moves and battling kept playing on a loop in his mind.

  He wasn't just a farm hand anymore. He had a Rhyhorn that could fight.

  "Okay, buddy," Micah whispered, his voice full of boyish excitement. "One more thing. Just to see."

  He led Donny toward a weathered oak stump near the edge of the clearing. The wood was grey and petrified, hardened by years of exposure. It looked like an immovable object the perfect test for an unstoppable force.

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  "Donny, look," Micah pointed at the stump. "I want you to hit it with your horn. Not too hard!"

  Donny tilted his head, his dark, wet eyes blinking in confusion. He looked at the stump, then back at Micah, his tail giving a hesitant flick. To Donny, the stump wasn't an enemy; it was just a piece of the landscape.

  "Come on, Donny. Focus. Horn Attack!" Micah mimicked a lunging motion with his arms.

  Donny let out a soft grunt and trotted forward, but instead of striking, he simply sniffed the bark and began to rub his head against it, using the rough surface to scratch an itch behind his ear.

  With a sigh and a giggle MIcah said "No, no scratching. Attacking!". He knelt down, placing his hands on Donny’s armored shoulders. "You’re a Rhyhorn, Donny. You’re built for this. Look at the stump. and charge into it."

  He stepped back and shouted the command with a newfound firmness: "Donny, Horn Attack!"

  Something clicked. Perhaps it was the tone of Micah’s voice, or perhaps the Rhyhorn’s predatory instincts finally stirred. Donny’s posture shifted. His center of gravity lowered, his sturdy legs digging into the soft turf. He let out a breath that sounded less like a grunt and more like a huff of steam.

  Then, he charged.

  It wasn't the graceful lunge of a Scyther or the quick snap of a Manectric. It was a clumsy, heavy-set gallop. Donny’s head lowered until his small horn-nub was aimed directly at the center of the wood.

  CRACK.

  The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet park. Donny’s head slammed into the stump with surprising velocity. The impact sent a jar through the Rhyhorn’s entire frame, causing his rear legs to kick up slightly. A large shard of grey wood splintered off, spinning into the grass.

  Donny recoiled, stabilized himself for a second. Then he turned to look back at his trainer with a look that Micah read as ‘did i do it?’.When Micah nodded Donny immediately scrambled back toward Micah, triumphantly posing right in front of his trainer.

  "Whoa lil man, you did amazing !" Micah scrambled to his knees to pet his young companion. Carefully checking the small horn Micah saw that while it wasn't broken or damaged,the skin around the base was flushed a slight pink.

  The excitement in Micah’s gut soured instantly into a cold, heavy lump of regret. He looked at the stump now marked with a deep, jagged indentation and then at his Pokémon. He had wanted to see power, but he had forgotten the price of it. Donny wasn't a weapon yet, he was a baby being told to headbutt a wall.

  Lightly touching the sensitive area, Micah was sad to see his Pokemon recoil slightly.

  "I'm sorry lil man," Micah murmured, pulling the heavy, rocky head into his lap. "I'm so sorry, Donny. Let's take a minute. We’re done for today."

  As he sat there in the dirt, petting the upbeat Rhyhorn, the "trainer lifestyle" felt less like an adventure and more like a heavy responsibility. He had the power to order Donny to hurt things, and Donny, not knowing any better, would obey even if it hurt him, too. It was a realization that made the cool shade of the nearby trees feel much colder than before.

  As they slowly began getting up,an unwelcome voice interrupted.

  "That's the weakest Rhyhorn I've ever seen."

  Micah turned to find a kid with blonde hair,probably eleven or twelve, wearing the kind of designer trainer gear that screamed "wealthy parents",standing a few feet away with his arms crossed. A well groomed Zigzagoon sat at his feet, looking significantly more competent than Donny currently appeared.

  "It hatched yesterday," Micah said, keeping his tone neutral. "It's still learning."

  "Yesterday?" The kid laughed,sharp, mocking. "And you're already trying to train it? That's stupid. Everyone knows you wait at least a week before starting real training. You're going to break it."

  Micah feeling the shame of being called out shot back saying "I'm mostly doing basic obedience training. The Pokémon Center nurse recommended it."

  "Oh, the nurse said so?" The kid rolled his eyes, stepping closer. His Zigzagoon followed with a confidence Donny completely lacked. "My dad’s an ace trainer, a real trainer, not some lady who hands out Band-Aids. He says kids who treat their Pokémon like house pets are the reason the regional league is getting soft. You’re basically babying a rock."

  Micah felt his jaw clench. "I’m not babying him. I’m making sure he’s healthy. There’s a difference."

  "Prove it. Battle me."

  "What? No."

  "What, scared?" The kid's smirk widened. "Figured you'd chicken out. Losers always do."

  "I'm not scared. My Pokémon is one day old. I'm not risking it in a battle against a more experienced opponent." Micah turned away, gesturing for Donny to follow. "Come on, Donny. We're leaving."

  "Hey! I'm talking to you!" the kid yelled. "You don't just walk away when someone challenges you! That’s the rule!"

  "It’s a dumb rule," Micah called back over his shoulder.

  "Zigzagoon, Tackle!"

  Micah spun back just in time to see the Normal-type charging,not at him, but at Donny. His Rhyhorn, confused and frightened, tried to back away but wasn't nearly fast enough. The Tackle connected solidly, sending Donny tumbling backwards with a cry of pain and surprise.

  Something cold and furious crystallized in Micah's chest.

  "What the hell is wrong with you?!" he shouted, rushing to Donny and checking for injuries, and feeding him an Oran Berry. His Rhyhorn was shaken but seemed okay,Rock-type durability providing some protection even at this young age.

  "If you won't accept a proper challenge, I'll make you battle." The kid's expression was smug, satisfied. "That's how it works. You can't just refuse when someone challenges you."

  Micah looked around frantically. No adults. No one close enough to intervene. Just him, his injured newborn Pokémon, and this sociopathic kid with his trained Zigzagoon.

  “Werent you just calling me out for training him? Why are you attacking us all of a sudden?”

  The boy’s smirk didn't falter, it just reshaped itself into something sharper. He began a slow, rhythmic tap of his designer boot against the packed earth.

  "My dad always says we should help teach stupid people," the boy corrected, his voice dripping with the practiced condescension of someone who viewed empathy as a mechanical failure. "So I'm going to teach you the difference between me and you."

  He felt Donny’s rough exterior shift against his palm. The Rhyhorn’s breathing was erratic but ready, as he licked the Oran Berry juice staining his chin.

  "Now, ready up. Or are you going to let me get another free hit?"

  Micah didn't stand. Not yet. He looked at the Zigzagoon. It was sleek, its fur groomed to a high sheen, but its eyes were fixed on its master, not the target. It was waiting for an order.

  ‘Think’, Micah demanded of himself. ‘Donny is slow. He’s a physical tank with a newborn’s reaction time. The Zigzagoon is clearly faster.’

  "Donny," Micah whispered, leaning close to the Rhyhorn's ear, ignoring the boy’s impatient huffing. "Im going to need you to listen and focus okay?", gently he placed his hand on his partner's hide. As he felt his Pokemon's breathing steady and muscles tense Micah got up to meet his opponents gaze.

  "Fine," Micah ground out. "You want a battle? You'll get a battle. But when we're done, I'm reporting you to the Pokémon Center for attacking a newborn Pokémon."

  "Pfeh, Whatever. Zigzagoon, another Tackle!"

  The Normal-type charged again. This time, Micah was ready.

  "Donny, Horn Attack!"

  His Rhyhorn, apparently more motivated by anger than training, lowered its small horn-nub and charged forward to meet the Zigzagoon. The two Pokémon collided in a tangle of fur and rock, both stumbling backwards from the impact.

  Neither seemed seriously hurt,both were relatively weak, their attacks lacking the power to cause real damage yet. But Donny was clearly shaken, breathing hard, looking to Micah for guidance it had no framework to understand.

  "It's okay," Micah said, forcing his voice to stay calm despite the fear churning in his stomach. "You're doing great. Horn Attack again when it gets close!"

  "Zigzagoon, Tackle! Keep hitting it!"

  The battle devolved quickly into exactly what it was,two inexperienced trainers with barely-trained Pokémon, calling the same moves over and over because they didn't know what else to do. Tackle from the Zigzagoon. Horn Attack from Donny. Repeat. Occasionally they'd miss, stumble over each other, or simply fail to execute the command properly.

  It was messy. Chaotic. Nothing like the strategic battles Micah had observed during their journey. Just two Pokémon crashing into each other repeatedly while their trainers shouted increasingly desperate commands.

  But slowly, Donny was improving. Each Horn Attack was more focused, more deliberate. The Rhyhorn was learning,not strategy, not tactics, but the fundamental lesson that sometimes you had to fight.

  After what felt like hours but was probably only two minutes, one of Donny's Horn Attacks connected squarely, catching the Zigzagoon under its jaw and launching it briefly into the air.

  "Now!" the kid shouted. "Use Tackle while you're falling! Gravity will make it stronger!"

  Clever, Micah thought distantly. If the Zigzagoon could position itself correctly, the downward momentum would add significant force to the impact.

  He needed to counter. Needed to tell Donny to dodge, to move, to do something,

  But his mind went blank. Panic and inexperience combining into frozen uncertainty. He opened his mouth but no words came out.

  The Zigzagoon twisted mid-air, positioning for the attack. Gravity pulled it down, adding velocity, adding power. It struck Donny directly, a devastating impact that sent the Rhyhorn sprawling.

  Donny hit the ground hard, rolled once, and for a terrible moment lay still.

  Then it stood.

  Not slowly. Not painfully. It surged upright with a movement that seemed powered by pure fury. And suddenly,impossibly,Donny was glowing. Not the white light of a Horn Attack, but a harsh red/orange energy that wreathed its entire body like flames.

  The Rhyhorn charged. Faster than it had moved before, faster than should have been possible for a one-day-old Pokémon. It crossed the distance in a heartbeat and collided with the Zigzagoon with tremendous force.

  The Normal-type went flying, actually flying, launched backwards to land in a heap several feet away, clearly unconscious.

  The red energy dissipated. Donny stood there, breathing hard, looking confused about what had just happened.

  Micah didn't celebrate. Didn't feel victorious. Just ran to his Pokémon, dropping to his knees and checking for injuries with shaking hands.

  "Donny, are you okay?"

  Donny rumbled, pressing against Micah's chest, apparently more concerned about comfort than celebrating victory.

  "You attacked a newborn Pokémon!" Micah shouted at the other trainer, who was recalling his Zigzagoon with obvious shock. "What is wrong with you?!"

  "I didn't,you accepted the battle!"

  "After you attacked us without warning! After you deliberately injured a day-old Pokémon!" Micah carefully lifted Donny, cradling his partner protectively. "Stay away from us. And don't be surprised when the authorities want to talk to you."

  He called Rhyhorn back into his pokeball, turned and walked away,quickly, before the other trainer could respond or before his own fear and anger could overwhelm him completely.