The scent of simmering stew drifted through the house, mingling with the faint hum of the afternoon breeze and the soft rustle of leaves outside. Ash sat on the stairs just out of sight, his head tilted slightly, listening to the adults in the living room.
The couch creaked as Freya leaned back, her boots now off and lined neatly near the door. Houndoom and Albus lay side by side near the hearth, both content and silent—like old friends reunited after a long time apart. Heracross, meanwhile, stood at attention near the hallway arch, only to receive a cold, narrow-eyed stare from Hooter, who hadn't stopped glaring since the Bug-type emerged. Ash couldn't tell if it was an old rivalry or just Hooter's natural suspicion turned up a notch.
"So," Annie said, settling into her chair with her own mug, "tell me about this Brooklyn apartment of yours. Are you actually cooking for yourself, or are you living off takeout like a college student?"
Freya laughed, nearly spilling her tea. "Hey, I can cook! I just... choose not to most of the time. There's this little Thai place two blocks down that knows my order by heart."
"Of course there is," David said with a shake of his head. "Some things never change."
"I've branched out," Freya protested. "There's also a deli, a pizza joint, and this incredible Ethiopian restaurant that—"
"That's not cooking, that's having a meal plan," Annie interrupted, grinning.
Freya took a sip and sighed contentedly. "It's efficiency. I've got more important things to worry about than whether my spice rack is properly organized."
David raised an eyebrow. "Like what? Urban raccoon management?"
She shot him a look. "For your information, Heracross has established a very effective perimeter. The raccoons know their place now."
Annie chuckled. "And your team's handling city life alright otherwise?"
Freya gave a sideways glance toward the hearth. "More or less. Houndoom gets cranky without open skies, but he makes do. The others..." She gestured to the four remaining spheres clipped to her belt. "They're not exactly the type I let loose inside someone else's walls. Tauros gets twitchy in small spaces. You remember how that went."
David winced. "Yeah. Broken lamp, bent banister, and Dad's antique cabinet. All in one afternoon."
"That's the one." She set her tea down, then leaned back again, tone softening. "Funny thing though... Ever since you started using the word 'Pokémon,' I picked it up too. Didn't even realize it at first."
Annie raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Yeah," Freya said. "And now every time I visit home or call one of the cousins, guess what I hear?"
Ash leaned in a little closer, heart thumping with curiosity.
"They're all saying it too. 'Pokémon.'" She grinned.
David laughed. "So you're telling me we've accidentally started a naming revolution in the family?"
"Looks that way," Freya said. "Honestly? I like it better. It feels right. These creatures aren't just some vague cosmic footnote anymore. They're partners. Friends. They deserve better than 'Extradimensional Entity.'"
Annie smiled softly. "Words carry weight. Maybe giving them names helps make all this feel a little less... alien."
Ash's fingers tightened slightly on the stair railing, a quiet smile pulling at his lips.
Down in the living room, Houndoom let out a soft snort and nudged Albus with his horn. The Stoutland huffed in reply but didn't move, eyes closed, as if they'd already had this conversation years ago.
Meanwhile, Heracross had begun flexing one arm like he was warming up for a spar. Hooter's eyes narrowed even further.
Freya set down her empty mug and stretched her arms over her head with a satisfied sigh.
"So," she said casually, cracking her knuckles, "you still training every morning? Or are you getting soft now that you've got garden beds and cinnamon tea?"
David didn't even look up from his seat. He let out a long, theatrical sigh that said everything at once—tired, resigned, and very, very used to this.
"You just got here."
"And yet," she said, standing up and rolling one shoulder, "I'm already itching for a proper fight. Come on, big brother—humor me. It's tradition."
"You ask every time."
"And you give in every time."
Ash, still crouched on the stairs, bit back a grin.
David finally stood, slow and deliberate, like a man about to give a speech at his own trial. He glanced toward Annie, who raised her eyebrows with a smirk and gave the smallest shrug.
"You know she's not going to stop until you say yes."
"I know," he muttered, already unbuttoning his overshirt. "I was hoping to at least finish my tea this time."
Freya was already moving toward the back door, grin wide, boots back on, and hair pulled into a tighter braid.
"Let's go," she said over her shoulder. "Before I challenge the tea to a fight instead."
*********
The midday sun filtered through the canopy as they moved through the woods behind the house, feet crunching softly over old leaves and damp earth. It was a trail the Ketchums knew well—tucked behind the property, winding through quiet trees and shaded undergrowth. Birds chirped overhead, and somewhere in the distance, a stream murmured its way across smooth stones.
Ash walked just behind his father and aunt, his steps light but attentive. Hooter flew above them in lazy arcs, silent and smooth, while Heracross clomped steadily beside Freya like a loyal knight ready for war.
David led the way, hands in his pockets, gaze forward. Freya trailed a few steps behind, rolling her neck and rotating one arm at the shoulder like she was warming up for more than just battle.
"Dad," Ash asked, glancing up, "why the woods?"
David looked over his shoulder. "We don't battle near the house. Too many windows."
"Too many memories," Freya added with a small grin. "One time, I knocked a boulder straight through Mom's birdbath. You'd think she'd forgive me after ten years..."
"She didn't," David said flatly.
Freya laughed.
They walked a little further in silence, the trees growing thicker and the sounds of the town fading behind them.
Ash glanced up at Freya. "Can I ask something?"
"Sure."
"Who made the containment spheres? The Pokéballs?"
Freya chuckled lightly, hands on her hips. "That's not usually the first question kids ask about them."
"I'm not most kids."
"Fair enough." She gave him a thoughtful look, then nodded. "It's an old story. Not something you'll find written down anywhere. But it's true."
Ash listened closely, eyes fixed on her.
"Miriam Ketchum," Freya said. "The strongest of us. The first to bond with seventeen Pokémon, each from a different realm. Each a force of nature. She wasn't just a warrior—she was a tactician, a protector. But even she couldn't carry all of them into battle at once. So she worked with the Sorcerers of the time—Masters of the Mystic Arts—to build something new."
She tapped the polished sphere at her hip.
"So they're part magic, part tech?" Ash asked, mind racing.
"Exactly. They're alive in a way—tied to both the beast and the binder. Each one's a little different, tuned to the one who made the bond. Miriam's were the first, and they've only gotten better since."
Ash looked at her belt, then back up. "You don't nickname them like Dad does."
Freya glanced at Heracross, who had stopped at the edge of a clearing and was now punching the air with slow, deliberate focus.
"No," she said. "Not really my style. But that doesn't mean I don't care about them. They know I do."
Ahead of them, the clearing opened wide—an old dueling spot marked by time and memory. The trees pulled back just enough to give them space. A few rocks ringed the edges, worn flat from years of sitting. Moss crept up the sides. The earth was soft, but solid. It would do.
David stopped at the far end and turned, arms crossed.
Freya stepped forward, grinning. "One match. Heracross versus Hooter. No holding back."
"We'll have the proper team spar later," David said.
"Promise."
Ash moved to the side, heart pounding.
Hooter circled once overhead, then dipped down, wings catching the air as he landed with a practiced flap just outside the center of the field.
Heracross snorted and stepped into position, flexing both arms. The horn on his head gleamed in the sunlight.
The air shifted.
And the duel was about to begin.
Ash stood at the edge of the clearing, barely breathing. The canopy of trees above swayed gently, filtering light into golden beams that danced on the forest floor. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation. Hooter's wings stirred the air as he floated above the mossy ground, while Heracross shifted his stance, antennae twitching.
Freya and David faced one another across the field, their eyes locked in mutual understanding.
"Same rules as always?" Freya asked.
David nodded. "No holding back."
Freya smirked. "Good."
David raised his hand. "Begin!"
Heracross was the first to move, launching into a sudden Horn Attack, his polished horn glinting in the sunlight.
"Dodge and use Confusion!" David barked.
Hooter tilted midair and sidestepped the charge, eyes glowing blue. Psychic energy wrapped around Heracross like a vice. The Bug-type grunted and strained, wings buzzing, legs kicking at the air.
"Endure it!"
Freya's voice was sharp and clear. Heracross's body pulsed with a red aura as he powered through the psychic grip, digging his heels into the ground and finally snapping free.
"Don't let up—Pin Missile!"
Heracross reeled back and fired a stream of glowing needles. Hooter banked to the side, the projectiles barely grazing his feathers.
"Reflect!"
A transparent barrier shimmered into existence just in time to block the second volley of missiles.
"Now hit back with Air Slash!"
Hooter swooped down and launched a wave of cutting wind blades, his feathers rippling with the force. Heracross raised his arms and took the brunt of it, skidding back several feet.
"Again!" David snapped.
Another Air Slash tore through the air, this one hitting harder. Heracross roared and punched the ground to keep from toppling.
"Charge him! Aerial Ace!"
A blur of blue and white exploded from Heracross as he shot forward, zigzagging unpredictably before slamming into Hooter midflight. The owl let out a pained screech as he was sent spiraling.
Ash's heart skipped. "Hooter!"
"Steady now—Roost!" David ordered.
Hooter flared his wings and touched down, his body surrounded by a soft, glowing light as his injuries began to heal.
"Not happening. Swords Dance, then Thrash!"
Heracross spun in place, his muscles glowing red with power. He lunged forward, fists swinging wildly. He connected once—twice—before Hooter managed to take flight again, eyes flashing with pain and resolve.
"Shake him off! Uproar!"
A thundering shriek erupted from Hooter's beak. The sound echoed through the clearing like a sonic wave, making even Ash cover his ears. Heracross stumbled, momentarily dazed, but didn't stop.
"Drive through it! Close Combat!"
Ash barely followed what happened next—Heracross launched himself forward with a grunt and delivered a brutal flurry of punches and kicks. Hooter tumbled to the ground again, rolling in the dirt.
But then—"Take Down!"
Hooter surged back up, light flaring around him as he slammed into Heracross, both Pokémon colliding with a thunderous impact that shook nearby branches.
Dust rose.
The two Pokémon separated, panting heavily. Their bodies were battered, wings drooping and limbs scraped. Hooter's feathers were ruffled, and one of Heracross's arms hung limply by his side.
Neither trainer spoke.
Heracross snarled and stomped, eyes locked on Hooter.
"Megahorn!" Freya yelled.
"Moonblast!" David countered.
Heracross roared and surged forward, horn glowing green and sharp as a blade. Hooter, wings spread wide, summoned a glowing orb of silver-pink energy that grew rapidly between his feathers. Just before Heracross made contact, Hooter unleashed the Moonblast.
The clearing lit up in a burst of light.
When the smoke cleared... both Pokémon still stood.
Ash's breath caught.
Hooter's wings hung low, his chest heaving. Heracross panted, legs trembling. For a full second, neither moved.
Then—
Heracross blinked, his eyes rolled slightly, and he dropped to one knee.
Hooter remained standing.
And then he let out a sharp, echoing call, wings flared wide in triumph.
Ash cheered from the sidelines, eyes wide with awe.
Freya walked calmly over to Heracross and knelt beside him. "You were amazing," she whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.
David approached Hooter and gave him a firm nod. "Excellent work."
Ash couldn't hold it in anymore. "That was incredible! Both of them were so powerful!"
Freya grinned at him as she returned Heracross to his sphere. "Exactly. Power's great, but timing? That's where the real battle happens."
David added, "Sometimes it's not about surprising your opponent. It's about enduring just one more hit than they can."
As the forest returned to silence, Ash's mind burned with the image of the final clash—power, strategy, and heart colliding in one perfect moment.
And deep inside, he knew:
He wanted that.
He needed that.
One day, it would be his turn to stand in that clearing.
***********
The stars were beginning to peek through the fading twilight as the group made their way back from the woods. The air smelled of moss and cooling earth, and a gentle breeze ruffled the leaves overhead. Hooter perched silently on David's shoulder, regal despite his scruffed feathers. Freya held Heracross's containment sphere close, her thumb tracing idle circles over its surface as she walked beside Ash.
By the time they reached the porch, golden light from the windows spilled out across the grass, beckoning them home. Inside, the house was filled with the comforting scent of simmering lentils, sautéed onions, and the earthy aroma of fresh flatbread.
Dinner was a quiet affair at first—bowls passed, hands reaching, clinks of cutlery mingling with the occasional chuckle or sigh. Ash sat between his parents, arms resting on the table, legs swinging slightly beneath his chair. Freya sat across from him, elbow-deep in her second helping, already recounting the more outrageous details of her missions with a dramatic flair that made even Annie laugh.
Halfway through the meal, Ash noticed Freya watching him from over the rim of her cup. Her expression softened into a mischievous smirk.
"So," she said casually, setting her drink down, "I noticed you've been flipping through The Record again."
Ash blinked. His cheeks flushed a little. "I... yeah. I've been reading it a lot lately."
"The whole encyclopedia?" David asked, raising a brow.
"Twice," Annie answered for him. "He's been carrying it around the house like a second skin."
Freya grinned. "Figured. Only people who read that thing cover to cover start looking at every creature like it might jump out and become their first partner." She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "So... what do you want?"
Ash blinked. "What do you mean?"
"What kind of Pokémon do you want, kid?" she asked. "You've seen dozens already—Albus, Hooter, mine. You've read about hundreds more. Which one do you dream about standing beside you?"
Ash didn't hesitate.
"Charizard."
There was fire in the way he said it. No second guesses. No shy tone.
Freya's smirk widened into something warmer. "Heh. Bold choice."
David chuckled under his breath. Annie gave Ash's shoulder a little squeeze.
Ash leaned forward now, eyes shining. "It's strong and proud and fearless. It can fly, it breathes fire, and it never backs down. It just... it feels right."
Freya nodded slowly, the candlelight casting gentle shadows across her face. "Then you'll get one."
Ash's eyes widened. "Really?"
She pointed her fork at him. "If you're worthy of it. Charizard's not the type to follow someone just because they asked nicely. It's the kind of partner you earn."
Ash's face was still bright with hope. "I will! I'll train and study and—"
Freya held up a hand. "That's good. But more important than strength is care." Her voice grew softer. "These creatures—whatever name we give them—aren't weapons. They're not tools. You bond with one, you take on a responsibility. You don't just train it... you protect it. You fight with it, not above it. You care for it. No matter who or what it is."
Ash nodded solemnly.
"They'll give you everything," Freya said, her gaze distant for a moment. "And if you're the kind of person who gives everything back... that's when you'll find the one who stays with you forever."
Ash didn't know what to say to that. But he understood.
Somewhere nearby, Albus gave a small huff, as if agreeing with every word.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward or heavy. It was the kind of silence that meant something had been heard and accepted. A truth passed from one generation to the next.
Dinner resumed.
Outside, the moon continued to rise, and Ash Ketchum sat at the table with his family—his heart full, and his dreams beginning to take flight.
_________________________________________________________
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