“Morning kids! Time to get up!”

A foul wind howled over the battlefield. Scarred, he stood on his rear legs, panting yet defiant. The green beast he faced approached with growled breaths, each step sending a shock through the earth. He clanged his seamitars together, a cocky yet cold smile spreading wide over his snout as he anticipated the next move. Even as sand was pelting him in the snout, he was ready, his heart pumping with the energy of a thousand suns.

“Breakfast is almost ready!”

With a colossal roar, the monster charged. The seamitars rose up in anticipation. Feet steady on the shaking ground, eyes steeled and sharp, he waited for the right moment. His claws were buzzing with the desire to plunge both swords into that foul creature, that terrorizer of thousands. He would be the one to put its terrifying reign to an end. He would be the knight slaying the dragon, and gain renown across the world for his deeds. The thought set him ablaze. As the beast charged in, he bared his teeth in a smile and leapt with every ounce of strength in his legs, swords first.

“GEORGE! BLITZER! BREAKFAST IS READY, GET OUT OF BED NOW OR IT WILL GET COLD!”

Little arms flailing helplessly, George flopped on the bed until his eyes were open. He propped himself upright and looked down at his body. Light blue fur, scalchop attached to said fur, and little stubby feet. He sighed. ‘ At least it was fun while it lasted .’

“Uuuurgh…”

Blitzer had rolled off his bed and onto the cold floor, eyes spinning and limbs flailing as if he were trying to make an angel in the snow. His cream-colored chest had been smeared with bits of dirt. After getting up and polishing the dirt off of himself, George grabbed the Charmander’s arm and pulled him upright.

“Gooood mooorning, Geooorge…”

“Good morning to you too, sleepyhead.”

Mornings were tiring. That was one of those truths in life that carried over regardless of where you were, or who you are. So George found out today. Little by little did he drag Blitzer to the living area, where the parents had been anxiously waiting on the children for several minutes. Nera was looking the other way, while Nero had an air of ire hanging around him.

“There you little scamps are. I was about to give up hope that you two would ever come here on your own. Seriously, one more minute and I’d have dragged you both out of bed by your feet.”

George pulled a sour face. “Why do you have to be so rude?”

Nero let his teeth stick out of his mouth. “We’ve been over this yesterday! We were having a treat for breakfast tomorrow, and that little jumpy bag of orange right there was practically tearing up the house when we promised! Now we’ve been sitting here watching it get cold for the past few minutes, and where are you two? Not even able to get out of bed. Look like a bunch of lazy Goomy, the both of you!”

“Aaaahh….” Blitzer leaned on George, oblivious to his father’s words.

“Honey, please calm yourself. It is only the morning,” said Nera, still looking in the other direction.

“Yes, yes,” Nero muttered in a voice that sounded as if he was about to yawn. “Have a seat already. Food’s not getting any warmer.”

“...food?” Blitzer sniffed with the force of a vacuum cleaner. With a sudden shot of energy, he stood on his own two legs and slid his way to the table. “Food!” George almost flopped back over as a result of Blitzer jolting off him. Shaking his head much like Nero was doing, he joined the rest of the family at the table.

‘ A little warning would have been nice… ’

Once the two were seated, Nera finally took her attention away from the nearby wall. “Morning sweetheart. I made your favorite soup this morning.”

“I smelled it!” Blitzer said. “Vegetable soup is the best! Thank you mom!” Nera chuckled back at him. He struggled to contain himself from just lifting up the bowl over his head and dumping everything inside straight into his gullet.

“No worries, child. I found some leftover vegetables in the pantry, and you know I don’t like things going to waste.”

George studied the soup for himself. It wasn’t the prettiest looking concoction, to put it mildly. Vegetable bits bobbing around in a mixture of dim, slightly acidic greens. It at least smelled appetizing, but his eyes weren’t feeling the hunger. Long after the family had dug in, George cautiously sipped from the bowl. The broth was salty, with a hint of sweetness inside. It had an odd texture. After twirling the liquid around in his mouth for a while, he swallowed. His taste buds weren’t a fan. Not one bit.

‘ Blegh, I’d be surprised if the headmistress would even approve of this .’

Off as the broth was, George didn’t want to just stop right there. With how Blitzer was audibly snarfing it down, there had to have been something George was missing. He took a bite out of one of the vegetables. Softer than jelly with a texture even further in bizarro land than the broth, it slid down George’s narrowing throat. He panted afterwards.

‘ Never mind, she would. Urk.. .’

Blitzer slammed his bowl on the table. “Aah, that was the best! You’re such a good cook, mom!”

“Thank you, son. I always put everything I have into everything I make,” Nera said. George stared with sleepless eyes at all the soup he had left, while the others were licking their mouths clean. Unable to stomach another bite, George was trapped. They had eaten their fill, while he had hardly taken more than a single bite from his share, and it was rude to just leave the soup standing there. Yet guilt couldn’t bribe him into continuing. The soup was staring back at him, through him, even.

“You romantic fools.” Nero hacked up a chuckle.

“Nero! Don’t say that about our son!” Nera was aghast, then enraged. “He’s a child! Who do you think you are to say things like that, about our son no less?”

“Settle down. It was only a joke.”

“Ugh! No, apologize first.”

Nero rolled his eyes. “If it suits you. My apologies, Blitzer and darling.”

“Hey, George? Are you not going to eat that?” Blitzer then said.

All eyes were on George. Despite the guilt now being stirred up, he couldn’t bring himself to lift that wooden spoon up to his mouth one more time. It wasn’t edible. He just couldn’t do it. No amount of struggling could get him to do it. It just wasn’t in him.

“George? Are you okay?”

George shook his pale head. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m not hungry.”

“What do you mean? It is breakfast, you’re supposed to be hungry.”

“It’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Do you not like the soup?” Nera asked.

The wooden spoon fell out of George’s hand. “No. I don’t like it.”

“Whaaat?! That’s not possible! How can anyone not like mom’s soup? It’s the best!” Blitzer said with curious twitching of his tail. He then leaned forward over the table towards George, resting his elbows on the table and letting his head rest on his hands, his arms acting as support columns. George didn’t want to look him in the eye. His face had been slathered in a mixture of tiredness and fear, all over some soup. Of course, Blitzer had been eating said soup his whole life. All creatures in this civilized world had been eating it. Except George, of course. The human in him was still present as ever on his taste buds.

“Calm down, you,” Nero grumbled. “Big deal, kid’s been here for a week and you expect him to like all the food we eat right away.”

Nera nodded. “Yes, dear. George is different. That’s all.”

The frown on George’s face grew wider. Different. That’s what he’d be in the end. Not like the others. Oshawott on the surface, the same kid living in a foster’s home on the inside. Everyone in the world would eventually see that in one way or another. Not someone who could live an ordinary life here, if that was even possible. The idea of it all being a dream made some noise in his head. Sure, it had been more than a week. Ten days of adventure and sleep and everything in between, all so vivid, but was it truly meant to be? Or was he going to wake up in bed again, ready to receive another scolding? The thought sent a chill down his spine. A cruel joke, that’s what it all was.

“But, but,” Blitzer stammered, “it’s so delicious! Irresistible! How can anyone not like it? That makes no sense.”

Nero rolled his eyes. “Kid, he’s not from here. I just said that.”

“But it’s so good!”

Nera tried calming Blitzer down, who by now had reduced himself to beggarly pleas. George found it hard to watch, keeping his eyes to the soup under his nose. Food for a Pokemon, not a human. It wasn’t going to be the last dish he couldn’t eat. No, his true self was bound to come out. And what would happen then? The grimace on his face intensified. Soldiers might’ve been hated, but what unites better than a common enemy?

‘ Headmistress… ’

“Blitzer, we know, you like it a lot, but George doesn’t. Don’t take it so hard, will you?” Nera asked her son. George felt a foreleg drape around his neck. “Let little George take his time getting accustomed to things, none of us know what he must be going through. Thrown in here with us, and there’s no way back home.”

“T-that’s not true, he-”

Blitzer was stopped from talking any further by a purple foreleg. Nero’s ears were flat against his head. “Lad. You’re not one to talk about handling change. Remember the time we brought up the idea of living somewhere else for a while? ‘Cause I sure do. You spent the whole day crying your eyes out.”

“H-hey! That’s not true!”

“Oh yes it is. Still remember it like it was yesterday.”

“But it was years ago!”

Nera beat the table a few times with a foreleg. “Alright, I think that’s enough breakfast for today. George, I’ll get you some berries. We’re having something else tomorrow, don’t worry. We might not have much, but we still have choices. As long as the people gathering food keep finding success and the merchants keep coming, we should be fine… yes,” she said with a hint of anxiety in her voice. “Let’s clean this up. You two can have the rest of the soup if you want.”

“Yaay!”

“Fine by me.”

* * *

Having cleaned up after breakfast and after getting some berries to make up for the soup, George put on his scarf and went outside on his own. He wanted some time alone to think, and sat down at the side of the path. From here, it was a slope down to the stream. Fortunately, with the house being at the end of a path, there were no other villagers nearby. It was a good place for a small respite. A handful of alone time to calm the senses. In theory, anyway.

“Wait for me!”

The door of the hovel audibly fell into its frame. Footsteps ran up behind; who else, besides Blitzer? George’s head dipped as he turned to face the Charmander, whose protests against him over the soup had long been forgotten.

“There you are. Man, you are fast when you want to be!” said Blitzer, still fidgeting with the scarf he must’ve hastily tied. It looked as if he had gotten into a fight with the scarf while putting it on.

“Well, you did say you wanted to set out as fast as we could, right?” George replied.

Blitzer nodded. “Yeah, of course. That’s me, alright. But that didn’t mean you had to hurry ahead of me, right?”

George bit his tongue. “Yeah.” ‘ Telling him is only going to make things worse for me. Let’s not. ’

Company at his side, George had to leave his respite behind for now, and walked through the town with Blitzer. The message had vaguely pointed them north from the signs at the entrance to the village, so they believed, and so that was where they were headed. Passing by the ever so peaceful houses and fields in bloom, there was a noticeable lack of energy. Something was missing, yet what was a question mark for both.

In any case, the village seemed fine after half of the food supply had been confiscated a week earlier. There was a lively atmosphere coming from the cafe, people were treating their neighbours with the respect they always had, if slightly more sluggish than before. War, famine, oppression, disaster, it could all come and go, and Greenfield would still be going as usual. This little town had a spirit unmatched by anything else. Out of all the places in the world, George was glad to have ended up here.

Upon approach to the entrance, Blitzer poked George on the shoulder. “So, do tell me. Why don’t you like mom’s soup?”

George glanced at Blitzer, his mouth curled into a slight frown. “Why do you ask?”

To this, the young Charmander shrugged. “I don’t know, I just think it is odd. Her soup is the best.”

“Not to me it isn’t.”

“But how?”

George gulped. “My tastebuds are just the way they are, that’s why. You have your own, right? Sometimes they agree with what you’re sticking into your mouth, and other times they don’t. This was one of the times that they didn’t.”

“But why? How could they?” Blitzer had now grabbed George by the arm with one claw, the underdeveloped nails on the end of each finger digging into George’s skin, much to the latter’s displeasure. ‘ Damn, he really isn’t giving up on this, is he? ’

“Like I know, I’m not a cooking expert! All I know is that it felt funky, tasted salty, and wasn’t pleasant to eat, that’s all.”

Blitzer shook his head. “Well, clearly something isn’t right, then. No one dislikes my mom’s cooking, especially not her soup. That’s a meal fit for a hero!”

“Yeah, right on!” A voice spoke from the bushes.

“Aah!” The two jumped backwards, only to be startled further by a voice from the other side.

“Last part’s overselling it!”

“Wh-what’s going on?!” Blitzer cried out in a panic. A yellow tail shaped like a lightning bolt stuck out from the left side, followed by the tip of a large white object. From behind, some kind of magical activity sent the fur on the back of George’s head upwards, sort of like his body was actively trying to communicate something back to him, this time in a language he couldn’t speak.

“Haha! You didn’t think we’d let you leave just like that, right?”

Junior came out of the bushes bearing a smug grin. Next to him was Corst, eyes as expressionless as the day prior. Behind them, Alcia hovered her way over the shrubbery, while the Buizel whose name George had not caught wind of carelessly walked onto the path, a face covered in crumbs from breakfast.

“Wait, how’d you know?!” Blitzer asked.

Junior giggled. “Well, Alcia?”

“You might not know it, Blitzer, but I have the power to read minds! And when I saw you yesterday, it was written all over you: Tomorrow morning, I and George will be going out exploring!”

“Whaaat! You never told me!” Blitzer said, visibly exasperated. The other children were all giggling at them without much to hide. It was written all over them, and George wasn’t having any of it.

“No you can’t! That’s nonsense!”

“Well, how’d ya be so sure of that?” asked the Buizel.

George folded his arms. “Alright. Where am I from?” he asked, his voice stern and clear.

“Alright, alright, you got me,” Alcia said, chuckling all the while. George wasn’t impressed. It all was too obvious of a trick. Mind reading wasn’t a thing. Not at that early of an age, anyway. Even this world had to have some rules. All the while, Blitzer’s head was spinning.

“But then how did you know?”

“How wouldn’t we know it is more like it!” Corst said. “You’d have to be stupid to not believe you two weren’t up to anything. You got called away by some Tangrowth no one’s ever seen delivering a message, then when you come back you’re all like ‘oh no, no big deal’ with the stiffest faces in the whole world! We weren’t born fifteen minutes ago, anyone could see that you were hiding something, and knowing you it was probably exploring related, since you love exploring so much.” Corst walked up to Blitzer, and bonked him on the shoulder with a stick. “So no surprises here.”

Blitzer sighed. “Alright, you got us. But could you please not tell anyone? It’s important.”

“Why not?” asked Corst. “You’re just going exploring, the whole village knows that’s what you like doing.”

George bit his lip. “It was in the message. We shouldn’t tell anyone where we’re going. That includes you, but I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

Junior looked saddened at the ground. “Oh. That’s a shame. But if that’s how you’d prefer it, then sure, I have no problem with it. You’re both good in my book.”

“Hey, what’s a cat?” the Buizel asked. George’s hand flew up to the back of his head to scratch away an itch.

“Uh, I’ll tell you some other time, alright?”

“Is it a Pokemon up north? I haven’t ever heard of it.”

George nodded. “Yeah, something like that.” ‘ Close one .’

“You two shouldn’t worry,” Alcia said. “We’ll have your backs. That’s what friends do for each other, right?”

“Right!”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t tattletale on anybody, ever!” Junior proclaimed as if giving a speech. “Wherever you’re going, I hope you will enjoy yourselves. Maybe you’ll find some treasure, too!”

“Why anyone would ask you two to go diving into a Mystery Dungeon for them, I don’t know. But I sure can’t complain! It’s about time something happened around here!” Corst said with closed eyes.

“You guys… thank you so much…” Blitzer whispered.

“After last week, you deserved this much,” Corst said. “I’m glad that you’ve changed.”

“H-have I?”

“Yes, you have.”

George watched on as the Cubone grabbed Blitzer by the wrist. Blitzer’s eyes were full of disbelief. He had a miserable history with Corst, one whose scars were slowly healing. George felt much better watching it all take place. It was good seeing them come together. They lived in a small world, one where you’d best get used to one another.

After a few seconds, Corst let go of the hand, and Blitzer nodded.

“Again, thanks so much for coming here for us, guys. I really appreciate it. And… I want to say sorry again for everything that has happened. Goodbye for now, I guess… we should get going.”

“Goodbye, Blitzer and George! Best of luck out there, eh?” Junior said with a wave. The others soon joined the Pikachu with waves of their own. The two gave a nod in approval, before finally setting out over the green field past the sign, glancing back to give a final nod of acknowledgement before the two camps went their separate ways. With the strength of the others at their backs, George and Blitzer were ready for whatever they’d face out there. It may be scary, life-threatening even, but they’d always be wearing their determined smiles with pride in their hearts.