Jason woke early, the unfamiliar sounds of city life filtering through the Pokémon Center window.

  For a moment, he lay still, orienting himself. Petalburg City. Norman's gym town. The place where he'd seen actual anime protagonists walking around like it was normal, because for them, it was.

  Still processing that one.

  Sprigatito was curled at his feet, a warm weight that had become comfortingly familiar. Ralts had claimed the pillow next to his head at some point during the night, her small body tucked into a tight ball. He could feel her contentment through their bond—the simple pleasure of being warm, safe, and not alone.

  Okay. New day. New opportunities. Let's not spiral about the nature of reality before breakfast.

  He got up carefully, trying not to disturb his Pokémon, and began the morning routine that was becoming second nature.

  An hour later, Jason sat in the Center's cafeteria with Hana, both of them working through substantial breakfasts while their Pokémon ate nearby. Sprigatito had her own bowl, eating with the focused intensity she brought to everything. Ralts was picking at hers more tentatively, still not entirely comfortable in public spaces.

  "Plans for today?" Hana asked between bites.

  "I want to explore the city. See what's here, pick up supplies, maybe find some trainers to battle." Jason glanced toward the windows, where morning sunlight was streaming in. "And I want to visit Norman's gym. Not to challenge—just to see it. Get a sense of what I'm eventually working toward."

  "Mind if I tag along? I need to file some reports with the local Ranger station, but after that I'm free."

  "Sure. Company's good."

  They finished breakfast, retrieved their Pokémon (Jason recalled Ralts to her Pokéball for now—the streets would be overwhelming for her), and headed out into the city.

  Petalburg in daylight was even more impressive than it had been the evening before.

  The main commercial district sprawled across several blocks, a mix of chain stores and local businesses catering to the steady flow of trainers that passed through. Jason spotted three different Pokémarts of varying sizes, at least two specialty shops focused on trainer gear, and what looked like an entire street dedicated to food and restaurants.

  "This place is bigger than I expected," he admitted as they walked.

  "Gym towns draw crowds," Hana explained. "Trainers come for the badge, but they stay for supplies, healing, and information. The local economy builds around that." She nodded toward a large building with an official-looking seal. "Ranger station's over there. Give me thirty minutes?"

  "Take your time. I'll wander."

  They split up, and Jason found himself alone (except for Sprigatito) in an unfamiliar city. It should have been intimidating. Instead, it felt like opportunity.

  Alright. Let's see what Petalburg has to offer.

  The first stop was a trainer supply shop called Frontier Outfitters.

  The store was larger than the Pokémarts he'd visited, with a focus on quality over quantity. Display cases held TMs—Technical Machines that could teach Pokémon new moves instantly. Racks of specialized clothing lined one wall: weather-resistant jackets, reinforced boots, gloves designed for handling certain Pokémon types. A whole section was dedicated to camping gear far nicer than his basic setup.

  Jason browsed, more window-shopping than actually buying. His funds were limited, and he needed to prioritize.

  TMs would be useful, but they're expensive. Clothing can wait. Camping gear... mine works fine for now.

  He did pick up a few things: a better first-aid kit for Pokémon injuries (the one he had was basic), a compact guide to Hoenn's wild Pokémon (physical reference for when he couldn't use his Pokédex), and a set of grooming supplies specifically formulated for Grass-types.

  "Nice Sprigatito," the shopkeeper commented as she rang him up—a middle-aged woman with streaks of gray in her hair and a Linoone lounging behind the counter. "Don't see many of those around here."

  "She's from Paldea. Long story."

  "Always is, with the unusual ones." The woman smiled. "You challenging Norman while you're in town?"

  "Not yet. I'm still pretty new. Heading to Rustboro first."

  "Smart. Roxanne's tough but fair. Norman..." She shook her head. "Norman's a different beast entirely. His Slaking alone has ended more gym challenges than I can count."

  "So I've heard."

  Jason paid for his supplies and headed back out into the street, Sprigatito trotting beside him.

  Slaking. Truant ability—only attacks every other turn. But when it does attack, it hits like a truck. Game knowledge says you exploit the downtime, but I bet real-world Norman has strategies to work around that weakness.

  He filed the information away for later. Norman was months away, at minimum.

  The next stop was the Petalburg Trainer Plaza—a large open space near the city center where trainers gathered to socialize, trade information, and battle.

  The plaza was busy even in mid-morning. Dozens of trainers milled about, some chatting in groups, others watching ongoing battles in the designated arenas. A few vendors had set up stalls selling food and drinks. A bulletin board near the entrance displayed job postings, tournament announcements, and wanted posters for problem Pokémon.

  Jason wandered through, taking it all in. The trainers here were diverse—all ages, all backgrounds, all apparent skill levels. He saw kids younger than Tommy with single Pokémon, and he saw weathered veterans with full belts of six. Everyone mixed together, the common thread of the trainer journey overriding other differences.

  A battle was happening in one of the central arenas, and Jason drifted over to watch. A young woman with a Breloom was facing off against a guy about Jason's age with a Machoke. The Fighting-types clashed in the center of the arena, trading blows with practiced precision.

  "Mach Punch!" the woman called, and her Breloom blurred forward, its arm moving almost too fast to see.

  The Machoke took the hit but stayed standing, retaliating with a Karate Chop that sent Breloom skidding backward. The battle continued, both trainers calling out commands, both Pokémon giving everything they had.

  This is what I'm working toward, Jason thought. This level of coordination, this kind of power. Sprigatito and I aren't there yet. But we will be.

  "Sprig." Sprigatito was watching the battle with intense focus, her ears perked forward, her tail twitching. She was learning too.

  "Want to try finding a battle of our own?" he asked her quietly.

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  Her response was immediate and enthusiastic. "Sprigatito!"

  Jason smiled. "Let's see what we can find."

  It took about fifteen minutes to find a suitable opponent.

  Her name was Kenji, she was maybe sixteen, and she had a Zigzagoon that looked well-trained and eager. When Jason approached and asked if she wanted a practice match, her eyes lit up.

  "Sure! I'm always looking for battles." She glanced at Sprigatito. "What species is that? I don't recognize her."

  "Sprigatito. Grass-type from Paldea."

  "Oh, cool! I've never battled a Paldean Pokémon before." Kenji moved to one side of an empty arena, and Jason took the other. "One-on-one? No items?"

  "Works for me." Jason hesitated. "Stakes?"

  "Practice match? I'm not looking to lose money today." She grinned. "Just want the experience."

  "Same here. Practice it is."

  A small crowd gathered as they took their positions—nothing huge, maybe a dozen people curious about the unfamiliar Pokémon. Jason tried to ignore them, focusing on the battle ahead.

  "Zigzagoon, let's go!"

  The striped Normal-type bounded onto the field, its movements quick and erratic in the way characteristic of its species.

  "Sprig. You ready?"

  "Spriga!" She stalked forward, her body low, her eyes fixed on her opponent.

  "Begin whenever you're ready," Kenji called.

  Jason took a breath. "Sprig—Leafage!"

  The battle started.

  It was messier than the Breloom vs. Machoke fight he'd watched.

  Sprigatito's Leafage was accurate but not overwhelming. Zigzagoon's erratic movement patterns made it hard to predict where it would be. They traded hits—Leafage connecting sometimes, Tackle and Headbutt hitting Sprigatito more often than Jason liked.

  "Sand Attack!" Kenji commanded, and Zigzagoon kicked up a spray of dirt.

  "Close your eyes, Sprig! Use your nose!"

  They'd practiced this after the Poochyena encounter on Route 101. Sprigatito's sense of smell was keen enough to track opponents even when blinded. She turned her head, nostrils flaring, and fired off a Leafage that caught Zigzagoon mid-dodge.

  "Nice!" Kenji called, genuine appreciation in her voice. "Zigzagoon—Take Down!"

  The attack hit hard, sending Sprigatito tumbling. But Take Down had recoil, and Zigzagoon staggered slightly from the self-inflicted damage.

  "Now—Scratch!"

  Sprigatito recovered faster than Zigzagoon expected, closing the distance and raking her claws across its flank. The Normal-type yelped and retreated.

  "Come on, Zigzagoon! One more Tackle!"

  "Meet it with Bite!"

  They collided in the center of the arena. For a moment, neither gave ground—and then Sprigatito's jaws clamped down on Zigzagoon's shoulder, the move striking with great force.

  Zigzagoon went down.

  "Zigzagoon is unable to battle!" someone in the crowd called out—apparently an informal referee. "Victory to the Sprigatito trainer!"

  Jason let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Good job, Sprig. Really good."

  She limped toward him—she'd taken hits, and would need healing—but her head was high, her eyes bright with pride.

  Kenji recalled her Zigzagoon and crossed the arena, her expression rueful but not upset. "That was a good battle. Your Sprigatito's tough."

  "Your Zigzagoon too. That Take Down nearly had us."

  "Yeah, but the recoil..." She shook her head. "I need to work on that. Find moves that don't hurt Zigzagoon to use."

  They shook hands, exchanged Pokégear numbers ("In case we want a rematch sometime"), and parted ways. Jason headed toward the plaza's healing station—a small booth staffed by a Nurse Joy assistant with a portable healing machine.

  We won.

  It was a small victory. Kenji was probably about his skill level, maybe slightly below. But it was a start.

  One step at a time.

  After healing Sprigatito, Jason decided it was time to visit Norman's gym.

  The Petalburg Gym was impossible to miss—a large, impressive building near the city's center, its architecture clearly designed to convey strength and authority. The symbol of the Hoenn League was displayed prominently above the entrance, and a steady stream of trainers moved in and out through the front doors.

  Jason approached slowly, taking it in. This was where Norman trained. Where he defeated challenger after challenger with his Normal-type team. Where, if Jason ever got strong enough, he'd face one of the most difficult battles of his Hoenn journey.

  Someday. Not today.

  He walked inside.

  The lobby was spacious and well-lit, with comfortable seating areas and displays showcasing Norman's achievements. Trophies, photos of notable victories, a glass case containing what looked like medals from various competitions. One wall was dedicated to the Balance Badge—Norman's prize for successful challengers—with information about what it represented and what was required to earn it.

  "Can I help you?"

  A young woman sat behind a reception desk, her expression professional but friendly. A Vigoroth sat beside her, watching Jason with alert eyes.

  "Just looking around, if that's okay. I'm not here to challenge—not yet."

  "Of course. Trainers are welcome to observe battles in the viewing gallery if there's one happening. The gym leader is currently in a match, actually." She gestured toward a door to the left. "Through there, up the stairs."

  "Thanks."

  Jason followed her directions, climbing a staircase to a gallery overlooking the main arena. A handful of other spectators were already there, watching through reinforced glass as a battle played out below.

  And what a battle it was.

  Norman stood on one side of the arena, his posture calm and commanding. He was exactly as Jason had imagined from the games and anime—middle-aged, fit, with an air of quiet authority that filled the room. His opponent was a young man who looked to be in his late teens, visibly nervous despite having clearly prepared for this moment.

  The challenger had a Hariyama. Norman had his Vigoroth out—not Slaking, so this must be a mid-tier challenge, maybe someone with four or five badges.

  "Hariyama—Arm Thrust!"

  The Fighting-type lunged forward, its massive arms pumping in a rapid series of strikes. Vigoroth dodged the first two, took the third on the shoulder, and retaliated with a Slash that sent Hariyama reeling.

  "Vigoroth. Encore."

  The command was quiet, almost casual, but its effect was immediate. Vigoroth's eyes glowed briefly, and suddenly Hariyama was locked into repeating its last move—Arm Thrust, over and over, predictable and exploitable.

  "Now. Focus Punch."

  Vigoroth's fist began to glow. Hariyama was still thrusting, unable to change tactics, and Vigoroth simply stepped around the predictable attacks, winding up for a devastating blow—

  The Focus Punch connected. Hariyama crashed to the ground and didn't get up.

  "Hariyama is unable to battle," the referee announced. "The challenger has no remaining Pokémon. Victory goes to Gym Leader Norman!"

  The crowd in the gallery murmured appreciation. Jason watched as Norman crossed the arena to shake his defeated challenger's hand, offering words that were too quiet to hear from up here but seemed to be encouragement rather than criticism.

  That's what a real gym leader looks like, Jason thought. That's the level I need to reach.

  Vigoroth alone had dismantled an entire team. And that wasn't even Norman's strongest Pokémon.

  Long way to go.

  He found Hana waiting outside the gym, her Ranger business apparently concluded.

  "See anything interesting?"

  "Norman just finished a match." Jason shook his head slowly. "He's incredible. Made it look effortless."

  "He's been doing this for over a decade. One of the strongest gym leaders in Hoenn, maybe the strongest after the Elite Four." Hana fell into step beside him as they walked. "You'll get there. Just not overnight."

  "I know. It's just..." He searched for the right words. "Seeing it in person is different from knowing about it. The gap between where I am and where I need to be feels... vast."

  "That's normal. Every trainer feels that way when they're starting out." Hana glanced at Sprigatito, trotting along at Jason's heels. "You won a battle today, right? In the plaza?"

  "Yeah. Against a trainer with a Zigzagoon."

  "Then you're making progress. That's what matters."

  They walked in comfortable silence for a while, making their way back toward the Pokémon Center. The afternoon sun was warm, and the city bustled around them—trainers and civilians alike going about their lives in this world that still felt half-impossible to Jason.

  "I want to leave for Rustboro tomorrow," he said eventually. "Get started on the actual gym challenge."

  Hana nodded. "Route 104 to the woods, then through to the north side. Another two days of travel, roughly. I'll come with you—the Petalburg Woods are in my training region anyway."

  "Sounds like a plan."

  That evening, Jason sat in the Pokémon Center's common room, both of his Pokémon out and relaxed beside him.

  Sprigatito was freshly groomed—he'd used his new supplies to give her coat a thorough brushing, working out the tangles from the day's activities. She'd purred throughout the process, clearly enjoying the attention. Now she lay draped across his lap, her eyes half-closed in contentment.

  Ralts had emerged from her Pokéball for the evening, curling up on the couch cushion beside him. She was still quiet, still timid, but she seemed more comfortable than she had been. Progress, even if slow.

  Jason pulled out his phone—36% battery, he'd need to charge it tonight—and scrolled to his music.

  "What do you think, Sprig? Something to relax?"

  "Spriga." Approval.

  He selected Shinedown's "Atlas Falls"— one of his favorites. The opening chords filled his ears, and he let himself sink into the music.

  The push is always part of us...

  He thought about the day. The battle with Kenji. Watching Norman dismantle a challenger. The vast gap between where he was and where he needed to be.

  But also—the progress. The wins. The team growing stronger.

  Ralts stirred beside him, drawn by the music. Through their bond, he felt her curiosity—she was still learning what music was, what it meant to him.

  He pulled out one earbud and held it near her. She leaned in, listening.

  The song swelled toward its climax, and Jason felt something settle in his chest. Determination. Purpose.

  I'm going to get stronger. We're going to get stronger. And when I finally face Norman—when I face all of them—I'm going to be ready.

  The music played on, and his Pokémon rested beside him, and somewhere in the distance, Rustboro City waited.

  Tomorrow, the real journey would continue.