Chapter Four

Day 2 

The sun was rising higher as Izzy adjusted his backpack straps, following the dirt trail north of Cherrygrove City. Trees framed the path, their branches swaying gently in the breeze, while wild Pokémon occasionally darted between the undergrowth.

It had been a peaceful start to the morning—almost too peaceful.

“Cyndaquil, are you doing okay?” Izzy asked, glancing down at his fire-type partner trotting beside him.

“Cyn!” Cyndaquil chirped, his flame flickering brightly.

Izzy smiled but couldn’t shake the tension creeping in. After the money he spent yesterday and the rough first day, he felt the pressure now more than ever. He had 500₽ left—barely enough if things went wrong again.

“Okay, just gotta take it one step at a time.”

Unfortunately, the universe seemed eager to challenge that thought.

“Hey! You there!”

Izzy flinched, spinning around. A boy, probably around his age, jogged up the path toward him. His yellow straw hat was tilted slightly to the side, and he carried a net slung over his back—definitely a Bug Catcher.

“New trainer, right?” the boy grinned. “I’m Tim. Wanna battle?”

Oh no.

Izzy’s palms instantly got clammy. He knew battles were normal—expected—but his last one had been a disaster.

“I—I don’t—”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Tim insisted, already grabbing a Poké Ball.

Cyndaquil stepped forward, flames flaring.

“Quil!”

Izzy’s heart raced. His Pokémon wanted this. He took a deep breath, pushing down the nervous knot in his chest.

“Alright… let’s do it.”

“Go, Caterpie!” Tim shouted, tossing his Poké Ball.

With a flash of light, the small green bug Pokémon appeared, its large eyes blinking up at Cyndaquil.

Okay, okay, Izzy’s mind raced. Fire beats Bug-types, right?

“Cyndaquil, use Tackle!”

“Caterpie, String Shot!”

Cyndaquil charged forward, but sticky white threads shot out, wrapping around his legs and slowing him down.

“Dang it—Cyndaquil, push through and Tackle again!”

Cyndaquil gritted his teeth, flames sparking on his back as he broke free and slammed into Caterpie, knocking it backward.

“Caterpie, Bug Bite!”

The little bug lunged with surprising speed.

“Dodge to the side!” Izzy shouted.

Cyndaquil barely avoided the attack, skidding across the dirt.

“Now, use Ember!”

With a burst of fire, small embers flew from Cyndaquil’s mouth, striking Caterpie head-on. The Bug-type wobbled before collapsing in a faint.

Tim grinned as he recalled his Pokémon. “Whoa! That was awesome. I thought I had you there for a second.”

Izzy blinked, the realization hitting him—he had actually won.

“I—I did it?”

“Yup!” Tim handed over 300₽. “Good luck out there!”

As the Bug Catcher disappeared down the path, Izzy stood in stunned silence before grinning down at Cyndaquil.

“We actually did it, buddy.”

“Cynda!”

The victory wore off fast when Izzy realized how hungry he was getting. The sun was high up, and the path stretched on with no sign of Mr. Pokémon’s house.

He soon sat down in a small clearing off the trail where the path split in two. One led to the next city while the other to Mr. Pokemon's house.

Izzy stared at the tiny pile of firewood he had clumsily gathered to cook his food. “Okay… how hard can starting a fire be?”

He glanced at Cyndaquil. “You… uh, wanna do the honors?”

“Cyn!”

Cyndaquil’s back flared up, and with a puff, flames shot out—straight at the whole pile.

“Wait, not all at once—!”

WHOOSH.

The entire pile erupted into a blazing fireball. Izzy yelped, scrambling to pull his backpack away as embers scattered.

Cyndaquil looked sheepish, his flame flickering low.

“Okay, so, lesson learned,” Izzy groaned, rubbing his temple. “Control the flames next time.”

After finally taming the fire, Izzy sat back against a log, pulling out a meal pack for himself and a bowl of food for Cyndaquil.

The quiet of the woods was… unsettling. Distant rustles in the trees, the occasional call of a Pidgey—each sound made Izzy tense.

“This is fine,” he muttered, poking at his barely-warm rice. “Totally fine.”

But the shadows of the trees stretched long, and the longer he sat there, the more the isolation weighed on him.

This is so different from home.

Cyndaquil nudged his side gently, curling up beside him.

Izzy smiled weakly. “Yeah… at least I’m not completely alone.”

After finishing their meal both soon started putting out the fire.

“Alright, today’s the day we get to Mr. Pokémon’s house,” he declared, though his aching back begged to disagree.

After a few more hours of walking—and narrowly avoiding a Beedrill swarm—Izzy finally saw it.

The cottage looked like something out of an old nature magazine—ivy creeping along the wooden beams, a small wind chime swinging lazily in the breeze, and a mismatched garden overflowing with odd plants and colorful berries.

Izzy hesitated at the front door,.

This is it.

He raised a fist and knocked.

The door flew open so fast, he nearly toppled over.

“You must be Izzy!” exclaimed an older man with round glasses, tufts of white hair sticking out from under a worn cap, and a wild energy in his eyes. “Come in, come in!”

Before Izzy could answer, he was gently dragged inside.

The house was crammed with papers, maps, strange rocks, and books that looked like they hadn’t been touched in decades. In the center of the cluttered chaos sat another man—someone Izzy recognized immediately.

“P-Professor Oak?!”

The renowned Pokémon Professor turned, his kind smile exactly like the one Izzy had seen countless times on TV.

“Ah, you must be the boy Elm mentioned! I’m delighted to meet you.” Oak stood up and shook Izzy’s hand, while Cyndaquil nervously peeked out from behind his trainer’s legs.

“Cyndaquil, huh?” Oak crouched down, observing the fire-type. “He looks healthy… but more importantly, he looks happy.”

Cyndaquil puffed up proudly, flames flickering on his back.

Izzy rubbed the back of his neck. “I—I’m trying my best.”

Professor Oak’s eyes softened. “It’s not just about strength or strategy, you know. It’s about the bond you have with your Pokémon. And I can see it already—you care deeply about Cyndaquil.”

Izzy blinked, unsure what to say.

Oak stood up and pulled a sleek, red device from his bag.

“That’s why I want you to have this.”

He handed it over gently.

Izzy stared at the Pokédex, wide-eyed. “A-are you sure? I-I’m not exactly… y’know… the best trainer—”

Oak chuckled. “You don’t have to be the strongest. What matters is that you’re willing to grow—with your Pokémon by your side. A bond like that? It’s rare for new trainers.”

Izzy’s heart thudded in his chest. This… this was huge.

“Thank you, Professor.”

Oak tipped his hat. “No need to thank me. Just keep taking care of your Pokémon, and that Pokédex will fill itself before you know it.” He turned toward the door, grabbing his satchel. “But now, I must be off. I’ve got some important research waiting for me elsewhere.”

Izzy barely had time to say goodbye before Professor Oak disappeared down the path.

“Busy man,” Mr. Pokémon chuckled, watching Oak leave. He then turned to Izzy. “But don’t let that overwhelm you. You’ve been on quite the journey already. Why don’t I heal up your Cyndaquil before you go?”

Cyndaquil let out a tired “Cyn~” as if agreeing wholeheartedly.

Mr. Pokémon led Izzy to a small table, where he pulled out a wooden box filled with glass bottles and herbs. A few sprays and soft hums later, Cyndaquil perked right back up, bouncing onto Izzy’s lap.

“There. Good as new.”

Izzy smiled in relief. “Thank you, Mr. Pokémon.”

“Of course! Now for the reason I called Elm. Is for this.” He soon presents to Izzy a Giant Egg with red and blue triangles on it, in an incubator. “I was walking around the forest until I found this little one. I have absolutely no idea what pokemon it would hatch into. I would gladly hatch it myself but unfortunately it was not responding to me in any positive form. To be frank, I'm quite worried about it and hope that Elm, one of the head researchers of pokemon breeding, could figure it out.” 

“Oh. I promise to take good care of it and give it to Prof. Elm quickly.” Izzy says as he nervously holds onto it. Nervous of being given such a huge responsibility. He gently places it inside his backpack.

 “Of that, I hold no doubt, young man. Before you head off, feel free to pick some berries from my garden. I’ve got a few Oran and Sitrus berries growing—perfect for healing and energy.”

“Seriously?” Izzy’s eyes widened. “That’s—wow, thanks!”

“You’ll need all the help you can get out there.”

With his backpack heavier—now carrying a few blue Oran berries and the rarer yellow Sitrus berries—Izzy waved goodbye to Mr. Pokémon and started down the path.

“Cyndaquil, I think we’re actually getting the hang of this,” he muttered, opening his Pokégear to check the map.

Before he could navigate far, the device buzzed violently in his hands.

Incoming Call — Prof. Elm

Izzy fumbled to answer. “H-hello?”

Elm’s voice crackled through the speaker, frantic.

“Izzy! Something’s happened—there’s been a break-in at my lab!”

Izzy’s stomach dropped. “A break-in? Is everything okay?!”

“Someone stole one of the Pokémon… and—wait—” There was muffled yelling on the other end. “I need you to be careful, Izzy. If you see anyone suspicious on your way back, don’t engage. Just call me.”

Izzy swallowed hard, heart pounding. “Y-yeah, got it, Professor.”

The call ended.

Cyndaquil looked up at him, sensing his tension.

Izzy’s grip on the Pokégear tightened.

“Well… so much for an easy trip back.”

He glanced down the path to return home, now seeming longer and more dangerous.

“Cyndaquil, let’s go.”