Those Pokémon could wait. If he met them, he’d catch them. If not, move on.

He did want a Swampert. Starters with real potential were rare, so he shelved it. Golduck was basically gone in the wild on Kinnow Island. Kabutops and a baby Kingdra weren’t worth it unless their potential checked out. Without a Dragon Scale, Kingdra wasn’t even on the table.

Among his mains, only Poliwhirl was raised from scratch. The rest—Butterfree, Pelipper, Kingler, Rhyhorn, Scyther, Shelmet, Croagunk, Magikarp, Gastly, Slowpoke—were later catches. All gifted enough to brush Elite Four with a little work.

Magikarp was the statistical outlier, yet his came in near-Elite. The real pieces were Gastly and Slowpoke. Both could evolve and regress. Pair that with his proficiency panel and you could roll potential.

Gastly was innately talented. Slowpoke was forced into it. Fill a pool with Shellder, let it fish and stare, and watch potential climb.

A thin line to Champion flickered. If anyone crossed first, it’d be those two. Self-evolve, self-regress—that was the hidden card.

The plug-in was just a panel. Regression was the edge. He hadn’t tried it on Gastly yet, but the loophole looked solid.

In the anime, legendaries flipped that switch often. Some gifted Pokémon learned it. Fusion evolutions existed too.

And if the switch “broke”? Gastly was gas; Slowpoke’s tail grew back. Small problems.

He closed the day. First, bring the six original Rain Team members to near-Elite. Then plan. Sleep.

The trade fair could wait. He’d walked it twice. Only a Shelmet with decent talent hooked him.

Everything else was common, overpriced, or off-plan. A Shiny Shelmet was already enough. No need to get greedy.

He clipped the Poké Ball to his belt and looked up—into a small, fine-cut face and wide, bright eyes. He flinched, almost losing balance.

The girl startled too and stepped aside. He relaxed when he recognized her and let his hand drift off the belt. He’d almost drawn the knife.

“Why are you here?”

“Reiji-san, I saw you at the trade fair and followed out of curiosity,” Saya said, embarrassed. He’d been zoning out; she hadn’t called to him and spooked herself instead.

“I’m heading back to rest. Did you need something?” He just wanted to sleep, stock up for tomorrow, and leave Murcott Island. The hop to Mandarin Island (south) would be two days with an unnamed island as a relay. Pelipper didn’t need a strain run.

“It’s only a little past nine and you’re already turning in?” She checked her watch. He wasn’t the early-to-bed type.

“I’m a little worn out. I want to turn in early.”

“In that case… could you look at these little ones? I picked them up at the trade fair.” She offered four balls—castoffs from other trainers.

“Poliwag. Psyduck. Farfetch’d. Magby.” Potentials: thirty to fifty. No odd flags. “All four are healthy. All are solid.”

Poliwag, Psyduck, Farfetch’d—sure, people pass. But Magby? Odd. Blaine’s signature is Magmar. Not his business.

“Really?” Saya cradled the balls. Four new “staff” for the castle. Ten from earlier made fourteen, plus a dozen Ghost types already there. Enough to run a hotel.

“Right, Saya—tomorrow I’m leaving Murcott Island. I hope the castle-hotel does well.”

“You’re leaving?” The joy left her voice.

“Yeah. I’m traveling the Orange Archipelago. Lots of places to see.”

“Could you come meet my grandmother? She wants to thank you in person.” The street was crowded, and her thoughts were a knot. Mostly, she needed a reason not to let him walk away.

“Alright.” He sighed and went with her.

They skipped the main street and took a back lane. Moonlight and tight fences. She said nothing and walked slow. Paths end.

In her backyard, she stopped and turned. “Sorry, Reiji-san. I lied to you.”

“What?”

“It’s not my grandmother who wants to thank you. It’s me.” She stepped in and hugged him.

He froze, hands half-raised. No words came.

Through the window, Madam Suzushiro saw it. The boy from the castle task. The idea that kept them afloat. Her granddaughter had fallen. She only sighed.

“Reiji, I’ll miss you.” Saya rose on her toes, kissed his cheek, and slipped inside. The door thudded shut.

She slid down the wood, palms over her mouth. Tears still found the corners of her eyes.

He watched the warm light, then turned away. No words.

He’d never believed in Romeo and Juliet. Two meetings can’t turn into a death-wish love, right? Now he understood. In the other life, maybe. In this life, he wasn’t stopping.

She was a good girl.

He wasn’t ready. He wouldn’t ask her to wait. Walk your road until you meet a man who’ll stop for you. He wasn’t worth that.

Reality isn’t tidy. No perfect scripts. Most of us are ordinary. Sometimes the right person appears at the right time and place—that’s all.

Let this moment stay here. Memory fades. They’d blur and pass.

Time is fair. Some earn; some drift. Time smooths everything. He still had to move.

Tap.

Behind the Pokemon Center, he leaned into the wall’s shadow. A small flame, a cigarette, blue smoke unwinding into dark. When the ember hit the filter, he looked up at the crescent moon and sighed. His shadow slipped away. The butt dimmed in the grass. Night sounds took the lane back.

After he left, the old woman called from inside. “Saya. He’s gone.”

“Grandma.” She stood and hugged the woman in the rocking chair. She only wanted to hold on.

“There, there.” Madam Suzushiro stroked her hair. “It’s that poor boy who missed you. He’s the one who should cry. You’re the girl who’ll inherit a castle. In my day, boys like him lined up to the sea.”

“Grandma, didn’t you marry a ‘poor boy’?”

“He wasn’t poor—he was capable. Otherwise I wouldn’t have chosen him.” She glanced at her late husband’s photo and slid into the old story: the wave, the drift, the deckhand who hauled her home, the stern father who made him prove it, the wait, the win. The chains are gone now. They grew happy into old age.

“Grandma, you’re telling it again. I’ve heard it a dozen times.” The ache dulled.

“No, Saya. You get to chase happiness. Do what you want. I’ll back you.”

“Grandma…” She cried and held tighter.

“If you want to see him again, open the castle-hotel first. I doubt he likes a crybaby. He needs a girl who quietly has his back.”

“Grandma, I can see him again?” Her eyes lit.

“Of course. Who’s stopping you?” A wry smile. The girl could be dense.

“Did you do the same with Grandpa?”

“That’s a long story. Listen—back then…”

She began. Work would leave less space for a boy known two days. Back then, they’d drifted half a year before land.

[End of Chapter]

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