Jason was finishing breakfast in the Pokémon Center cafeteria when a familiar voice cut through the morning chatter.

  "I thought that was you."

  He looked up to find Hana standing beside his table, pack slung over one shoulder, Treecko perched on the other. She looked tired but pleased, with a few new scratches on her arms and dirt smudged on her jacket—the marks of someone who'd been living rough in the wilderness.

  "Hana!" Jason stood, genuinely happy to see her. "I didn't expect—I thought you were doing Ranger training in the northern forests."

  "I was. Orientation and initial assessment." She dropped into the seat across from him without waiting for an invitation. "Three days of supervisors evaluating my skills, assigning my training region, explaining protocols. Boring but necessary."

  "Sprig!" Sprigatito had perked up at the familiar face, her tail swishing in greeting.

  "Hey, Sprig." Hana reached over to scratch behind the Grass-type's ears, earning a pleased chirp. "You look good. He's taking care of you?"

  "Sprigatito." An affirmative, with a hint of obviously.

  "Glad to hear it." Hana turned back to Jason, her dark eyes assessing. "You look better too. Less like you're about to fall apart."

  "Thanks. I think."

  "It's a compliment." She flagged down a server and ordered tea and toast, then settled back in her chair. "So. What's the plan? You heading to Rustboro?"

  "Eventually. I want to catch another Pokémon first—there's a lake on Route 102 where Ralts have been spotted." Jason paused. "What about you? Where's your training region?"

  "The forests between Oldale and Petalburg, actually. I'll be working that area for the next few months—documenting Pokémon populations, responding to any incidents, learning the terrain." She accepted her tea from the server with a nod of thanks. "My supervisors want me to travel with a trainer when possible. Safety protocol for candidates."

  Jason read between the lines. "You're asking if you can travel with me."

  "I'm suggesting it might be mutually beneficial." Hana's expression was carefully neutral, but he caught the hint of something softer underneath. "You get a guide who knows Hoenn's wilderness. I get field hours and someone to watch my back. We both get company on the road."

  It wasn't a hard decision. Hana had been kind to him when she didn't have to be, had walked him to Littleroot and asked nothing in return. And traveling alone, while manageable, wasn't exactly pleasant.

  "I'd like that," he said. "Partners?"

  "Partners." She extended her hand, and they shook on it. "Now tell me about these Ralts. I might be able to help."

  They left Oldale an hour later, after Hana had resupplied and Jason had sent a quick update to Professor Birch via Pokégear. The morning was crisp and clear, yesterday's gray skies replaced by brilliant blue, and the road west was busy with travelers heading in both directions.

  Route 102 was different from Route 101—wider, better maintained, with more signs of regular traffic. The forest pressed close on either side, but the trees were smaller here, the underbrush less dense. Wooden signposts marked distances to major destinations: Petalburg City, 45 km. Lake Serene, 8 km. Granite Cave turnoff, 12 km.

  "Lake Serene is popular with trainers looking for Water-types," Hana explained as they walked. "Marill, Surskit, occasionally Lotad. But the Ralts don't live near the lake itself—they prefer the quieter glades to the north. Less human traffic."

  "You know this area?"

  "I've studied the maps. Part of Ranger prep." She glanced at him. "Ralts are tricky. They're empaths—they sense emotions from a distance. If they feel anything threatening, they teleport away before you even see them."

  "Someone in Oldale told me the same thing. Said I need to approach with calm, maybe bring sweet berries."

  "Good advice." Hana's Treecko chirped something, and she nodded. "Like I always tell Ren, the key is patience. Don't go looking for them—let them come to you."

  "Ren?"

  "My Treecko." She reached up to stroke the small green Pokémon, who leaned into the touch. "I didn't name him for a while. Wanted him to tell me what felt right."

  Jason looked at Sprigatito, trotting along beside him. "I just shortened hers. Sprigatito to Sprig."

  "That works too. Every trainer has their own approach."

  They walked in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the forest filling the gaps. Jason spotted a Seedot hanging from a low branch, its acorn-like body swaying gently. A Surskit skated across a puddle in the road, its legs leaving tiny ripples. Somewhere in the canopy, a Taillow was singing—a different call than the ones near Littleroot, higher and more complex.

  "Can I ask you something?" Hana said eventually.

  "Sure."

  "The other day, on the road to Littleroot. You saw a Furret in a meadow."

  Jason felt his face warm slightly. "Yeah?"

  "You made a noise. Like someone had punched you in the stomach." Her expression was carefully neutral, but curiosity lurked beneath. "And then you just... stood there. Staring at it."

  Oh no. She noticed.

  "I, uh." He cleared his throat. "I really like Furret."

  "I gathered that. But it was more than 'liking.' You looked at that Furret like it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen."

  Jason was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain without revealing too much. "I've always had a thing for certain Pokémon," he said finally. "Furret is one of them. Seeing one in real life, actually real and actually there... it hit different than I expected."

  Hana studied him with those sharp, observant eyes. "You say things like that sometimes. 'In real life.' 'Actually real.' Like you're surprised by what you're seeing."

  Careful, Cahill.

  "The amnesia," he said, which was technically true. "Everything feels new. I know things—facts, names, information—but experiencing them is different. It's like..." He searched for the right words. "It's like reading about the ocean your whole life and then seeing it for the first time. The knowledge doesn't prepare you for the reality."

  Hana considered this for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "That makes sense. The mind remembering what the heart has forgotten."

  "Something like that."

  She didn't push further, for which Jason was grateful. They continued on, the morning sun climbing higher, the forest gradually thinning as they approached the lake.

  Lake Serene lived up to its name.

  The water was still and clear, reflecting the sky like a mirror. Reeds grew thick along the southern shore, and a small wooden dock jutted out from a cleared area where trainers had set up picnic blankets and fishing gear. The air smelled of water and growing things, fresh and clean.

  A handful of other trainers were scattered around the lake's edge, most focused on the water. Jason spotted a boy about twelve years old battling a wild Marill, his Zigzagoon darting back and forth as the blue Water-type launched bubbles at it. Further along, a woman was fishing with a Pokémon rod, a Meowth lounging beside her tackle box.

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  "The Ralts glades are that way." Hana pointed north, toward a break in the treeline. "About fifteen minutes' walk. Quieter there."

  They skirted the lake's edge, passing a family having a picnic—two adults, three kids, and a menagerie of Pokémon including a Skitty, a Poochyena, and what Jason was fairly sure was a Plusle, its red-accented fur bright against the green grass. The kids waved as they passed, and Sprigatito chirped a greeting.

  The path north was narrower, less traveled. The sounds of the lake faded behind them, replaced by deeper forest quiet. Jason felt himself relaxing into the rhythm of the walk, letting the tension drain from his shoulders.

  Calm. I need to be calm.

  "Here." Hana stopped at the edge of a small clearing, dappled with sunlight filtering through the canopy. "This is the kind of place they like. Open enough to see approaching threats, sheltered enough to feel safe."

  Jason surveyed the area. Soft grass, a few flowering bushes, a fallen log covered in moss. Peaceful. Beautiful, even.

  "So we just... wait?"

  "We wait. And we stay calm." Hana moved to the edge of the clearing and sat down, her back against a tree. Treecko hopped down from her shoulder and began exploring the underbrush, moving with slow, deliberate care. "Get comfortable. This could take a while."

  Jason found a spot on the fallen log and sat, Sprigatito jumping up beside him. He pulled out the berry pouch Birch had given him, selecting a Pecha Berry—sweet, supposedly attractive to Ralts—and set it on the log beside him.

  Then he waited.

  The first hour passed slowly.

  Jason focused on his breathing, on staying relaxed, on projecting calm. It wasn't easy—his mind kept wanting to race ahead, to plan and strategize and worry. But every time he caught himself tensing up, he deliberately released the tension, letting it flow out of him like water.

  Sprigatito helped. She'd curled up in his lap, her warmth and weight grounding him, her steady breathing a rhythm he could match. Her presence was soothing in a way he couldn't quite articulate—something about her energy, her contentment, radiating outward and smoothing his edges.

  Maybe that's what Mei meant. Grass-types having calming presences.

  Birds called in the canopy. Insects hummed. Somewhere nearby, water trickled over rocks. The forest was alive around them, going about its business, unconcerned with the humans waiting in its midst.

  The second hour was easier.

  Jason found himself sinking into something like meditation, his thoughts slowing, his awareness expanding to take in the clearing and the forest beyond. He noticed things he'd missed before—the pattern of light and shadow on the grass, the tiny wildflowers growing at the log's base, the way the breeze made the leaves whisper in overlapping voices.

  This is actually nice, he realized. Just... being. Not doing, not planning. Just existing.

  He thought about home. About Nonna and his brother, about Poppy's chair sitting empty in the living room. But the thoughts came without the sharp edge of grief, more like gentle waves than crashing surf. Present but not overwhelming.

  I'm okay, he thought. Right now, in this moment, I'm okay.

  Movement at the edge of the clearing.

  Jason kept his eyes soft, not focusing directly, just aware. Something small and pale was emerging from the underbrush, moving with hesitant steps. He could feel Sprigatito's attention sharpen in his lap, but she stayed still, trusting him.

  A Ralts.

  It was smaller than he'd expected—maybe just over a foot tall, with a white body and green bowl-cut "hair" that covered most of its face. Two red horns protruded from the green, one in front and one in back, marking it as a Psychic-type. It moved like a child taking its first steps, uncertain but curious.

  The Ralts stopped at the clearing's edge, its hidden eyes somehow focused on Jason despite being covered. He felt something brush against his mind—not intrusive, just... questioning. A gentle probe, testing his emotions, his intentions.

  Hello, he thought, keeping his mind as calm and open as he could. I'm not going to hurt you. I just wanted to meet you.

  The Ralts tilted its head, considering. It took another step forward.

  That's it. Take your time.

  Another step. Then another. The Ralts was halfway across the clearing now, close enough that Jason could see details—the smooth texture of its skin, the slight glow of its horns, the way its tiny hands clutched at the air like it was holding onto something invisible.

  Sprigatito shifted in his lap, and the Ralts froze.

  Easy, Sprig. Let her come to us.

  "Sprig." The softest possible sound, barely a whisper.

  The Ralts relaxed, apparently deciding that the green cat wasn't a threat. It took the final steps toward the log and stopped directly in front of Jason, looking up at him with those hidden eyes.

  For a long moment, nothing happened. They just... looked at each other. Human and Pokémon, stranger and stranger, each trying to understand the other.

  Then the Ralts reached out one tiny hand and touched Jason's knee.

  The sensation was strange—a flutter of contact, physical and psychic at once. Jason felt emotions that weren't his: curiosity, wariness, loneliness, hope. The Ralts was alone. Had been alone for a while. Was tired of being alone.

  Me too, he thought back, letting his own feelings flow through the connection. I know what that's like.

  The Ralts made a soft sound—not words, but meaning. You understand.

  Yeah. I do.

  It climbed up onto the log beside him, settling next to the Pecha Berry with careful movements. It looked at the berry, looked at Jason, looked back at the berry.

  That's for you, he thought. If you want it.

  The Ralts picked up the berry with both hands and began to eat, tiny bites that it savored like something precious. As it ate, it leaned against Jason's arm, a slight pressure that communicated more than words ever could.

  Trust. I trust you.

  Jason's throat tightened. He remembered Sprigatito, huddled under wreckage, deciding to believe in a stranger. He remembered the feel of her paw touching his knee for the first time.

  I won't let you down, he thought, meaning it with everything he had. Either of you.

  He pulled a Pokéball from his belt—a standard red-and-white, nothing special—and held it where the Ralts could see.

  "This is a Pokéball," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "If you touch it, you'll become my partner. We'll travel together, train together. I'll take care of you." He paused. "But only if you want to. It's your choice."

  The Ralts finished its berry and looked at the ball. Looked at Jason. Looked at Sprigatito, who was watching with quiet interest.

  Then, very deliberately, it reached out and pressed one tiny hand against the button.

  The ball opened in a flash of red light.

  When it closed, the Ralts was inside. The ball rocked once, twice, three times in Jason's palm—

  Click.

  Silence.

  Jason stared at the ball, his heart pounding. He could feel something new at the edge of his awareness—a second presence, small and tentative but undeniably there. The bond, forming.

  "You did it." Hana's voice came from across the clearing, warm with approval. She'd been so quiet he'd almost forgotten she was there.

  He released the Ralts from the ball, and it materialized on the log beside him, blinking up at him with those hidden eyes. Through the new bond, he felt its emotions: uncertainty, but also relief. Hope.

  Partner, he thought toward it. Welcome to the team.

  The Ralts made that soft sound again, and for the first time, Jason got a sense of something like a smile.

  "Sprig!" Sprigatito leaned over to sniff at their new companion, her curiosity evident. The Ralts flinched slightly, then relaxed as it sensed no hostility from the Grass-type.

  "Introductions," Jason said, his voice still soft. "Sprig, this is Ralts. Ralts, this is Sprig. She's been with me from the beginning."

  The two Pokémon regarded each other for a moment. Then Sprigatito chirped a greeting, and the Ralts responded with a tiny wave.

  Good enough for now.

  Jason looked up at Hana, who had risen and was walking toward them, Treecko back on her shoulder. "Thank you. For bringing me here. For the advice."

  "You did the work." She crouched down to look at the Ralts, her expression thoughtful. "She's young. Maybe a few months out of the egg. No trainer has ever bonded with her before—you're her first."

  "How can you tell?"

  "The way she's looking at you. Like you're the whole world." Hana smiled slightly. "It's a responsibility. Don't take it lightly."

  "I won't."

  He looked down at his new partner—small, fragile, trusting him completely—and felt the weight of that responsibility settle onto his shoulders.

  Two Pokémon now. Two lives depending on me.

  It should have been terrifying. Instead, it felt right.

  They made camp that evening near the lake, in a clearing with established fire rings and flat ground for tents. Other trainers occupied nearby sites, their voices and laughter drifting through the twilight air.

  Jason sat by the fire, Sprigatito curled on one side and Ralts on the other. The Psychic-type was still wary, still getting used to her new situation, but she'd stayed close to him all afternoon, rarely straying more than a few feet away.

  "Have you thought about a name?" Hana asked from across the fire. She was preparing dinner—trail stew, made from dried ingredients and fresh water from the lake.

  "Not yet. I want to get to know her first. Figure out what fits."

  Hana nodded approvingly. "Good instinct."

  Jason checked his Pokédex, pulling up the entry for his new partner:

  RALTS Psychic Type The Feeling Pokémon

  If its horns capture the warm feelings of people or Pokémon, its body warms up slightly.

  This Pokémon is female. Estimated age: 3-4 months Registered to: Jason Cahill Rating: 1 Star

  One star. Brand new, completely untrained. We've got a lot of work to do.

  But that was okay. They had time.

  He pulled out his phone—44% battery—and scrolled through his music library. Something calm, something gentle. Something that wouldn't startle a skittish Psychic-type.

  He selected "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Elvis and let it play softly, the familiar melody floating into the evening air.

  Ralts's horns twitched. She turned toward the phone, her hidden eyes somehow conveying curiosity.

  "Music," Jason explained. "From... from where I come from. Do you like it?"

  A sensation through their bond—not words, but feeling. Pleasant. Warm. Like this.

  "Good. I'll play it for you sometimes. When you need calming."

  Sprigatito had lifted her head to listen too, her ears perked forward. She'd heard his music before, but she still seemed to enjoy it. Or at least tolerate it.

  The song played on, and the fire crackled, and Jason sat surrounded by his partners—his team—as the stars emerged one by one overhead.

  Two Pokémon. One friend. A plan.

  It wasn't much. But it was more than he'd had a week ago.

  And tomorrow, they'd take the next step.