Ethan reached the edge of the courtyard and stopped.
The b assistants were just returning.
They came in from different directions—mud on their boots, leaves caught in their coats, one of them with a torn sleeve and another still holding a ntern despite the daylight. Clipboards hung loosely at their sides, pages smudged with pencil marks and hastily sketched maps of the surrounding forest.
No machines.
No scanners.
Just people who had been calling his name for hours.
Carolina stood at the center of the courtyard, hands csped behind her back, posture rigid.
She turned the moment Ethan stepped into view.
For half a heartbeat, something in her face cracked.
Then it was gone.
“There you are,” she said.
The assistants froze.
Someone exhaled sharply. Another muttered, “Thank Arceus.”
Eevee sat neatly at Ethan’s side, tail curled, completely unrepentant.
Carolina crossed the distance in long strides and stopped in front of him.
“You disappeared for hours,” she said, her voice level but tight. “No trail. No warning. No escort Pokémon. You walked far enough that my search parties lost overp.”
She looked down at Eevee.
Then back at Ethan.
“You are five years old.”
Ethan swallowed. “I was just training—”
“That,” Carolina cut in, “is not a justification.”
She straightened and turned slightly toward the assistants. “You may stand down. Thank you.”
Relief rippled through the group. A few nodded to Ethan before dispersing, exhaustion written pinly across their faces.
When they were gone, Carolina looked back down at him.
“…You are grounded.”
Ethan winced.
Eevee gave a quiet, defiant “Vee.”
Carolina closed her eyes for a moment, steadying herself.
“This conversation,” she said, “is not finished.”
====
Cynthia arrived before sunset.
The first sign was the shadow.
It swept silently over the courtyard, wide and graceful, blotting out the te light for just a heartbeat. A second ter came the soft rush of dispced air as a massive white shape descended from the sky.
Togekiss nded like falling snow.
No crash. No thud. Just a gentle glide and a whisper of wings as it touched down in the stone courtyard, feathers barely stirring the dust. Its red and blue markings glowed faintly in the evening light, eyes bright and intelligent.
Ethan pressed his face to the window.
“…Whoa.”
Eevee scrambled onto the sill beside him. “Vee!”
The door opened before he could say anything else.
Carolina didn’t turn. “Stay.”
He froze mid-step.
Outside, Cynthia slid down from Togekiss’ back in one smooth motion, boots touching stone without a sound. She murmured something soft to her partner, fingers brushing its neck in thanks. Togekiss chirruped warmly, folding its wings and settling like a guardian statue in the courtyard.
Then Cynthia stepped inside.
The temperature in the room didn’t change.
But Ethan swore the pressure did.
Her eyes found him instantly.
There was a long, quiet beat.
“…You,” she said calmly, coat swaying as she walked forward, “walked into unmanaged forest. Alone.”
Ethan shrank an inch.
Eevee puffed up proudly.
“He was training,” Carolina added, arms folded.
Cynthia stopped. Slowly turned her head.
“…He’s five. How did he get away from you?”
“Yes, he is” Carolina replied evenly. “And apparently capable of navigating four kilometers of wilderness while evading aerial surveilnce.”
“That’s not helping,” Cynthia muttered.
“Maybe I wouldn’t have to go so far away to escape and train Eevee,” Ethan said, crossing his arms, “if you didn’t have assistants stalking me.”
The courtyard went silent.
One of the b assistants physically choked.
Cynthia blinked.
Carolina did not look at him. She did not raise her voice.
“Did you truly believe,” she asked evenly, “that I would not have my assistants watch you after the Hyper Beam Incident?”
Ethan shifted his weight. Eevee leaned against his leg like a co-conspirator.
“For all I know,” Carolina continued, calm and cutting, “you could have trained Eevee into another catastrophic breakthrough. A new move. A new phenomenon. A new disaster with fur.”
Eevee puffed up proudly, chest out, tail flicking with smug satisfaction.
“Vee!”
Carolina stared at the Pokémon.
Then she looked at Ethan.
Then back at Eevee.
There was a long, dangerous pause.
“…What,” Carolina said slowly, each word clipped and precise, “the fuck did you do this time?”
“Grandma,” Cynthia said mildly, “nguage.”
Carolina didn’t look away.
“I will amend my statement,” she said ftly. “What exactly did you do this time?”
Eevee sat down and wagged its tail.
Ethan swallowed.
“…Extreme Speed.”
The silence stretched.
Then Cynthia spoke.
“Demonstrate.”
Ethan’s head snapped up. “What—now?”
“Yes,” Cynthia said calmly, already reaching for a Poké Ball. With a practiced flick, she released it.
Light burst outward.
Garchomp materialized in a surge of energy, nding heavily in the courtyard, cws scraping stone as it straightened to its full, imposing height.
Garchomp didn’t move at first.
It simply stood there, massive and patient, red chest rising and falling as golden eyes fixed on the much smaller Pokémon across from it. The air felt heavier just from its presence, like the courtyard itself understood the difference in scale.
Eevee swallowed.
Then its ears fttened, eyes sharpening.
“Eevee, you don’t have to win, just impress Aunt Cynthia,” Ethan states
“Vee.”
Eevee vanished.
Not blurred—gone.
The stone where it had been standing cracked as it unched forward, a shockwave rippling outward. In the same heartbeat, Eevee reappeared in a fsh of pale motion, smming into Garchomp’s side with Extreme Speed.
CRACK.
Garchomp slid half a meter, cws digging into stone.
That alone would’ve been unthinkable to most trainers.
Cynthia’s eyes narrowed—not in arm, but interest.
“Again,” Cynthia said calmly. “Garchomp—defend this time.”
Garchomp shifted its stance immediately.
Its weight settled. Cws spread. Tail lowered just enough to bance. It wasn’t bracing —it was preparing, like a fortress deciding which wall would take the hit.
Eevee didn’t hesitate.
The air snapped as it vanished again, Extreme Speed tearing a shallow trench through the courtyard stone. It reappeared at Garchomp’s fnk, impact nding square against its armored hide.
CRACK.
This time, Garchomp didn’t slide.
The force rippled through its frame instead, armor ptes flexing as it absorbed the blow. Garchomp grunted, feet digging deeper into the stone—but it held.
Eevee struck again.
And again.
Each impact nded true, each hit fast enough that a normal Pokémon wouldn’t even perceive the attack before it connected. Dust kicked up. Stone chipped. The courtyard rang with sharp, percussive impacts.
Garchomp endured it all.
Its eyes tracked Eevee now—not reacting after the fact, but anticipating. On the fourth strike, Garchomp pivoted just enough that Eevee clipped its shoulder instead of its ribs.
The difference was immediate.
Eevee was thrown off-bance, skidding across the ground before flipping back to its feet, breathing harder now.
“Vee!”
It charged once more.
Garchomp moved—not to attack, but to contain.
Its tail swept low, forcing Eevee to leap. One cw came up, not striking, but blocking—meeting Eevee head-on and stopping Extreme Speed cold.
The impact sent a shockwave outward.
Eevee bounced back, nding shakily this time.
Garchomp took a single step forward.
Not aggressive.
Dominant.
Eevee froze, instincts screaming—not fear, but understanding.
This was the wall.
This was the line it couldn’t cross yet.
“Enough,” Cynthia said.
Garchomp rexed instantly, stepping back and straightening as if the csh had never happened.
Eevee sat down hard, chest heaving, tail still wagging despite everything.
“Vee…”
Ethan finally let out the breath he’d been holding and hurried forward, dropping to one knee beside it. “You did great. You really did.”
Eevee leaned into him, exhausted but clearly pleased.
Cynthia watched the exchange closely, then looked back at Ethan. “That was impressive,” she said. “You taught Eevee to fight like that today?”
“Yes,” Ethan replied simply, scooping Eevee up as its legs trembled. The little Pokémon sagged against him immediately, breathing rough and uneven, completely spent.
Cynthia’s gaze sharpened.
“…That expins the stamina issue,” she murmured.
Carolina exhaled slowly, eyes never leaving Eevee. “You are writing a paper on how you taught Eevee to do what you just did.”
“I would like to see you train Eevee on how to do a move as well,” Cynthia states.
