Chapter Sixty-Five: The Survival of Wandering Pokémon

Heath scratched his head, puzzled as to why Zorua had become like this, but he didn’t dwell on it for long. Instead, he took his food cart to the market he frequented to buy groceries.

“Yawn... Spring is almost here,” Heath yawned, glancing out the window at the narrow path beyond. Outside, some firefly-like insects flitted about, their tiny lights twinkling and drifting through the dim street.

This scene didn’t evoke much in Heath. When he had first arrived, he’d felt a flicker of excitement, but now he had grown used to it.

“What kind of insect is that, anyway?” Heath was curious. Such insects in the Pokémon world only appeared at the end of winter and the start of spring. They resembled fireflies, but Heath was no entomologist and couldn’t tell exactly what they were.

“You mean those? I call them light bugs,” Zorua, perched atop Heath’s head, yawned, her tail swaying lazily.

“Light bugs? That’s a pretty straightforward name,” Heath glanced at the path outside the window and couldn’t help but chuckle.

The most beautiful city Heath had ever seen was Altomare, which he’d only glimpsed on television. Nicknamed the Water Capital, it was famed for its scenery; yet what most intrigued Heath was the sibling duo who lived there.

Heath remembered that Latias had once taken on the form of a human girl—one of the rare Pokémon able to transform into people.

Once he arrived at the market, Heath quickly bought the ingredients he lacked and drove the cart to his usual spot. He set up his food stall, placing the tables and chairs outside.

The weather was fine today; Heath glanced up—no clouds, a bright sunny day. Being a street vendor meant you had to pay attention to the weather. After all, who would want to sit outside eating in the rain?

Heath used to think being a vendor was just about setting up and selling food, but now he realized there was much to learn: where to set up shop, the flow of customers, reading the weather, and researching the latest trending foods—all were important.

“Meowth!” Just as Heath finished setting up the tables and chairs, he heard a Meowth’s cry.

He turned and saw, in the bushes, Meowth and Rattata cautiously surveying their surroundings. Once they were sure it was safe, they emerged and came over to Heath.

An Ekans slithered over, flicking its tongue. It raised its head, and in its solitary eye, some emotion seemed to flicker.

“Are you here to ask about Charmander?” Heath guessed, since it was Ekans and its companions who had brought Charmander over the previous day.

Ekans nodded. Even Meowth, who had been lying at Heath’s feet with its belly exposed, now scrambled upright and looked at him intently.

The two Rattata, who’d been chasing and nipping at each other’s tails, also stopped. Heath smiled at the sight.

For stray Pokémon trying to survive in Viridian City, unity was essential. Ekans was the leader of this small band and never hostile toward Rattata or Meowth. Huddling together for warmth, they managed to carve out a lively existence in the city.

Heath knew that Rattata usually scavenged food from sewers or other hard-to-reach places, while Meowth specialized in rummaging through trash cans and picking up scraps people dropped.

As for Ekans, it kept watch and protected its companions, fending off rival strays from their territory.

Of course, Ekans’ group wasn’t the only gang of strays in Viridian—each had their own turf.

“Charmander has already been taken to the Pokémon Center and received proper treatment. I caught it, and now it’s my own Pokémon.” Heath smiled, patting Meowth on the head. Ekans nodded and coiled up beside him.

Heath cheerfully patted Ekans’ head, then, almost unconsciously, began to rub it with both hands. Ekans looked resigned, but out of friendship with Heath, didn’t protest.

After a satisfying round of petting, Heath set Ekans down and handed out some food to the little ones, then returned to his cart.

“Trainer, why don’t you catch them?” Zorua asked curiously. She had been wondering why Heath had taken in Charmander but not Ekans and the others.

“Because they don’t want to be,” Heath shook his head. He had considered it, given their bond, but these Pokémon simply weren’t willing to become his.

Ekans was disabled and, for reasons unknown, never allowed anyone to catch it. As for Meowth and Rattata, they cared deeply for Ekans and refused to become anyone else’s Pokémon.

“It’s strange, though. Life as a stray is so tough,” Zorua shook her head, then leapt down from Heath’s head to sprawl on her own little table.

“Perhaps it’s just everyone’s own choice.” Heath didn’t say more; everyone had their own way of life.

Heath organized his ingredients and began preparing for the day. The batter for pancakes and other items needed mixing, and some things had to be chopped or pre-cooked—all morning chores.

“Good morning, Heath. Do you have anything suitable for someone who’s ill?” At the sound of that elderly yet robust voice, Heath knew exactly who it was.

“Grandpa Majid, of course I do. Are you unwell?” Heath grinned at him.

Majid’s name was identical to the one in Sword and Shield, but he was not the same person. At first, Heath wondered if he was destined for greatness, but soon realized it was just a coincidence.

“I’m fine, but Charizard’s not doing well. I just took him to the Pokémon Center and asked Nurse Joy to look after him.” Majid sighed. His back was straight, but the worry on his face was impossible to hide.

Heath sighed as well. That Charizard had suffered many wounds in battles and in the fight against evil organizations, its vitality depleted. Though still in its prime, it now seemed like an elderly Pokémon.

“Something suitable for the sick, you say? I have just the thing—please wait a moment.” Heath thought for a bit and nodded. He had an idea for a dish that was appropriate for the unwell—something light yet nutritious.

Considering Charizard’s condition, Heath already knew what he would prepare.