Petalburg City, Hoenn Region
Normal-Type Gym.
The gym's polished wooden floors gleamed under the sunlight filtering through the tall windows. The walls, adorned with framed badges and pictures of victorious trainers, gave the room an air of quiet prestige.
Norman, the Normal-type specialist and gym leader, stood near the center of the room. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with short brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard, exuding an air of calm authority. However, his usual confident demeanor seemed uneasy as he glanced at the young girl before him.
"Ah, May? You and your mother settled in okay?" he asked, his voice warm but slightly hesitant.
May, a spirited girl with a red bandana tied over her chestnut-brown hair, crossed her arms. Her blue eyes, sharp with annoyance, met his gaze. "Yeah, we did. Thanks for helping," she replied, her tone clipped.
Norman rubbed the back of his neck, sensing her frustration. "I know things have been tough lately..."
"Dad," May cut him off sharply, her voice tinged with irritation. "Quit talking to me like I'm ten."
Norman flinched at her tone, a pang of guilt flashing in his eyes. He opened his mouth to respond but hesitated, his words catching in his throat. He knew he hadn't been there for her as much as he should have. Clearing his throat, he tried to change the subject.
"I see you've got your Pokémon with you," he said, nodding toward the Pokéball clipped to her belt. "Planning to become a Trainer, huh?"
"Yeah," May said, her voice steady, though her frustration lingered in her posture. "It's one way I can beat you."
Norman's lips twitched into a faint smile, as though attempting to soften the tension, but before he could say anything, the creak of the gym door broke the moment.
A gym assistant stepped inside, bowing slightly before speaking. "Leader Norman, there's a spirited boy at the gates. He's insistent on speaking with you. I thought it best to let you know."
Norman raised an eyebrow, his hand moving to scratch his clean-shaven chin thoughtfully. "A boy, huh? Alright, send him in," he said, his tone light. The interruption was a welcome reprieve from the brewing confrontation with his daughter.
The assistant gave a quick nod and disappeared as swiftly as she had arrived, her footsteps fading down the hallway.
Norman turned back to May, his expression softening as he gestured toward her. "Looks like duty calls. We'll pick this up later, alright?"
May folded her arms, her expression unyielding. "Sure. After your 'business,'" she said coldly before retreating to a bench in the far corner of the room. She sat down with a huff, turning her gaze away.
Norman sighed quietly, dreading the inevitable continuation of their conversation.
The wait didn't last long. Within moments, the assistant returned, this time accompanied by a boy with green hair that gleamed faintly under the gym's lights.
Norman studied the newcomer with curiosity. The boy's pale complexion and delicate frame suggested he wasn't accustomed to the outdoors, but he carried himself with a quiet composure that immediately caught Norman's attention. He was humming an unfamiliar tune—soft, almost melodic.
"Not a Trainer, I assume?" Norman said with a light chuckle. "You look a little young to be here for a battle."
The boy smiled faintly, his gray eyes bright but calm. "Not yet," he replied, his voice soft but steady. "You'd have to wait a few months for me to challenge you."
Norman chuckled, appreciating the boy's humor. "Fair enough. So, what brings you to the gym, little almost-Trainer?"
The boy nodded politely before speaking. "I'm Wally, from next door. My uncle might have mentioned me?" His gaze shifted briefly to May, offering a small nod of acknowledgment.
Norman blinked, the name triggering his memory. "Wally!" he exclaimed, smacking his forehead in realization. "Right! Your uncle did mention you. You're here to get a Pokémon, aren't you?"
Wally nodded, his expression brightening. "Yes, sir. I'll be moving to Verdanturf Town soon, and I was hoping to catch a Pokémon to keep me company."
Norman crossed his arms, considering the boy's request. "Verdanturf, huh? That's a bit of a trip. Makes sense you'd want some company." His gaze flicked toward May, an idea forming in his mind.
"May," he called, turning toward his daughter. "You heard that, right? Why don't you go with Wally and help him catch his first Pokémon?"
May's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. "Seriously, Dad? You're just trying to dodge our talk!"
"Of course not, dear," Norman replied, his tone far too quick and casual to be convincing. Before May could retort, Norman turned back to Wally and pulled out a Poké Ball. "Here, Wally. I'll lend you one of my Pokémon to help you out. And take this Poké Ball to catch your new friend."
Wally accepted the items with a bow of gratitude. "Thank you, Leader Norman."
Norman clapped his hands together, ushering the two toward the gym doors. "Great! Off you go, then. Don't keep us waiting too long, alright?"
May shot him a glare as she followed Wally to the door. "We're not done, Dad. We'll settle this next time!" she called over her shoulder, her voice sharp with frustration.
Norman gave a small wave, watching the pair leave. The gym fell silent once more, and he let out a long sigh.
"Next time," he muttered to himself.
...
Hoenn Region
Route 102
May, Aspiring Trainer
May let out a sharp huff, turning away from the words still ringing in her ears—her father's dismissiveness, his casual command to "just take the boy" like she had nothing better to do. The tall grass swayed around her knees, whispering secrets she didn't want to hear.
"Sorry," she muttered, not looking at the boy walking beside her. "You shouldn't have heard that."
The boy—Wally—didn't miss a beat. "It's not a problem," he said, and his voice was soft. Soothing, even. Like it wasn't the first time he'd heard someone talk that way.
May's teeth pressed together. The apology burned on her tongue, but so did the anger, and the latter won out.
"It is a problem," she snapped. "My dad should've been the one helping you catch your first Pokémon. Not me. But of course, he's too busy. Always is. Gym Leader Norman, too important to look his own daughter in the eye."
She expected Wally to flinch, or retreat behind that gentle voice of his. But he didn't. He just blinked, the sunlight catching in his pale green hair. His expression stayed calm—almost too calm for a boy his age.
"I don't mind," he said. "I think you'll guide me just as well. Maybe even better."
She glanced sideways at him, skepticism flaring. But then again, maybe he wasn't just being polite. There was something about the way he said it—like he meant every word. Her lip twitched.
"Smooth talker, huh?" she teased, flashing the sharp edge of a grin. The kind she wore like armor.
Wally chuckled quietly, the sound light and unhurried. "Not really."
There was a pause, a quiet pocket of air between them. Just the wind brushing the tall grass and the crunch of their boots on the dirt path. May kicked a pebble, watching it bounce and vanish into the brush.
"Family stuff sucks," she said finally, softer this time. "Dad's always been obsessed with his 'duties.' He didn't even visit once after we moved to Petalburg. My mom pretends it's fine, but I can tell it eats her up."
She tried to laugh, but it came out bitter and hollow.
"That's why I'm training. Working hard. I want to face him someday and win. If I can beat him—really beat him—maybe he'll finally see me. Maybe it'll actually mean something."
Her voice trailed off. She clenched her fists, embarrassed at the rawness that had slipped through. It wasn't like her to go soft in front of strangers. Or anyone.
She turned to Wally, her lips already pulling into an apologetic smirk.
"Ugh, sorry. That was way more than you signed up for, huh?"
But Wally shook his head, his voice as steady as ever. "It's okay. Sometimes it's better to let it out."
She blinked, caught off guard by his sincerity. Not fake, not pitying. Just… there. Like a stone in a river—small, but unshakable.
"And for what it's worth," he added, "I think you'll make an amazing Trainer. You'll beat him. I believe that."
May studied him. His pale face still bore traces of fatigue. He looked like a strong gust might blow him over. But his eyes—soft as they were—held a strange certainty. He meant it.
"You really are something, Wally," she said, her grin returning. "You don't even know me."
"I'd bet on it anyway," he replied, lips curving upward.
She snorted. "Careful. That's how you lose money."
Wally leaned in, glancing left and right with mock caution, like he was about to share a dangerous secret. She played along, leaning toward him.
"I know the future," he whispered, his smile mischievous.
May arched a brow. "Oh yeah? Psychic, are you?"
Wally's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just messing with you."
"You cheeky little—" May laughed and gave him a playful shove, the tension in her chest loosening just a bit. But then, he didn't deny it. And somehow, that was the part that stuck in her head.
"Alright then, Mr. Know-the-Future," she challenged. "What kind of Pokémon are you going to catch today?"
"Ralts," Wally answered instantly.
She blinked. "Ralts? You're serious? I've trained in this field for weeks and haven't seen a single one."
He just smiled. That same calm, eerie confidence. "Don't be surprised when we do."
May shook her head with a smirk, crossing her arms. "Alright. Let's see if the universe is really playing favorites."
The trees ahead parted into a stretch of wild grass, and the two of them stepped in. The air smelled like loam and honeysuckle. Birds chirped overhead, but the rustle of the grass beneath their steps seemed louder. More immediate.
"Pokémon hide in places like this," May murmured, her voice instinctively lowering. "Keep your eyes open."
Wally didn't answer. When she looked back, he was already pale and sweating. He looked as if he'd been pulled from water—gasping, limp, like a Magikarp flung onto dry land.
"Wally?" she asked, slowing. "You okay? We can rest—"
But he waved her off. His smile returned, strained but still determined.
"It's just an old problem. We're almost there."
She hesitated, uncertain. He looked like a light breeze could knock him over. But something about the way he said it made her hold back. He wanted this.
Then the grass ahead shifted.
They both froze. May reached instinctively toward her belt, but stopped when the movement stilled—and revealed something small, strange, and glowing.
A Ralts.
Its fine blue hair shimmered faintly. The red horn caught the sun like a shard of ruby. It stood silently, motionless, as if waiting.
May's breath caught.
She turned to Wally, wide-eyed.
He looked up, as if sensing her gaze, and that familiar, cheeky smirk curled on his lips.
"Told you," he said.
...
Thanks for reading~