“But…
it looks like it’s hurt?” Sean stepped into the shed, leaning down and slowly reaching out his hand.
He slapped on what he thought was the most harmless, gentle smile possible: “Hey there, Cyndaquil.
My name’s Sean, and I’m a pretty handsome guy!
How about I take you to get fixed up?” Seeing that slowly approaching…
human hand immediately triggered Cyndaquil’s memories of the brutal Team Rocket!
It instinctively backed away, but its back was already pressed against the wall.
Driven by overwhelming terror and pure survival instinct, it bit down hard on Sean’s finger.
“Hiss—ah!” Sean hissed in pain, quickly pulling his hand back as blood began to well up from the teeth marks and drip onto the floorboards.
“Sean!” Seeing this, Lyra panicked.
She quickly spun around to go fetch Professor Elm.
Ignoring the stinging pain in his finger, Sean stared into Cyndaquil’s eyes in disbelief.
Those pitch-black eyes were filled with endless terror and…
pure hatred!
That look definitely didn’t belong to a normal wild Pokémon!
Within moments.
Professor Elm hurried back with a medical kit, followed closely by a panting Lyra.
Frowning with a serious expression, he grabbed Sean’s injured hand and carefully began treating the wound.
Sean stared at Cyndaquil in the corner, unable to help himself from speaking up: “Professor, that Cyndaquil…” “Let’s take care of your wound first, we can talk about everything else later.” Professor Elm didn’t even look up, his voice carrying an unquestionable seriousness as he focused entirely on wrapping the bandage.
Once he finished, Professor Elm finally turned around, looking grimly at the shiny Cyndaquil curled up in the corner.
He tried to take a step forward, but Cyndaquil immediately grew hostile, flaring its back into a full spinosaurus-like stance!
Professor Elm quickly backed away, his tone a mix of helplessness and gravity: “It completely distrusts humans.
Forcing our way closer will only worsen its stress response.
Its injuries aren’t just physical; it looks like…
it has severe psychological trauma.
Let’s let it calm down first.” “…” Sean stood frozen in place, his gaze falling onto the dried tear stains at the corners of Cyndaquil’s eyes.
His lips parted, then closed.
A wave of complex emotions churned in his chest, alongside a stubborn urge to comfort it.
In the end, he said nothing, simply watching that lonely, fragile little figure quietly.
…
Afterward, Sean refused to give up.
Over the following days, he spent practically all of his after-school hours inside the storage shed, trying to close the distance between them.
“This tastes way better than potatoes~” Every time Sean came over, he would bring a few sweet Pecha Berries, gently rolling them toward Cyndaquil.
Then he would sit by its side, launching into a non-stop, one-man monologue about the funny things that happened that day, plots from various manga, and his own childish dreams.
He even tried mimicking the cries of other Cyndaquil, hoping to give it a sense of familiarity and comfort.
But Cyndaquil remained entirely on guard.
The moment Sean got too close, flames would erupt from its back as it hissed threateningly!
A few times Sean refused to believe his bad luck and tried to force-spray potion onto its leg, only to end up either bitten or scorched by flames…
His arms were a constant rotation of fresh injuries layered over unhealed ones.
Watching his stubborn, battered routine, Lyra felt a mix of frustration and heartbreak.
Professor Elm took note of everything as well.
Finally, while helping bandage Sean’s arm one day, he spoke up to persuade him: “Sean, that’s enough.
I know you really want to help Cyndaquil, but I don’t want to keep seeing you get hurt either!
Even without treatment, its leg will heal on its own given enough time!” Sean kept his head down, staring at the layers of bandages wrapped around his arm.
After a long silence, he slowly looked up and spoke softly: “Professor, the truth is…
the injury I want to treat is the one in its heart.” “…” The words were spoken lightly, yet they left Professor Elm completely stunned.
Staring at the gentle gaze of the youth before him, he found himself entirely unable to offer a rebuttal.
———————————— Inside the shed, Cyndaquil curled up in the corner, tears silently rolling down its face.
To it, the world was split into two halves: one gray, and one full of color.
The gray side was the agonizing pain of losing its father, and its burning hatred for humans.
The colorful side was the flower fields of the past, and the beautiful memories shared with its father.
…
With the help of the medicine, Cyndaquil’s leg injury gradually improved.
Though it still ran with a slight limp, it was no longer a major issue.
Finally.
On a quiet, gray morning just before dawn…
It took one last look at the other corner of the shed, where Sean lay wrapped in a blanket asleep against the wall, fresh scratches visible on his face.
Then, it turned around resolutely, pushing off with all four limbs to bolt out of the shed.
Its small figure darted rapidly through the chilly, empty streets, heading straight toward the mist-shrouded forest.
It wanted to go back.
Back to that forest, back to the place where its father had fought his final battle.
No matter the danger, no matter if its father was alive or dead, it wanted to see him one more time.
A world without its father held absolutely no meaning…
Right then, a familiar voice suddenly echoed from behind Cyndaquil— “Cyndaquil, where are you going?
Wait for me!” Sean was running after it, panting heavily.
Cyndaquil looked back in surprise, but the obsession in its heart wouldn’t let it stop.
Instead, it accelerated, focused entirely on driving deeper into the forest.
Entering the forest.
The dense trees made it incredibly difficult for Sean to navigate, the thick canopy blocking out the sky and plunging the interior into gloom.
Along the way, he constantly tripped over sprawling roots and ran into sharp branches.
Snow fell from the branches from time to time, sending freezing shivers down his spine.
Cyndaquil, however, used its small body to weave effortlessly through the chaotic terrain, eventually arriving at the exact spot where it had last separated from its father.
The area was a total disaster, with surrounding trees either knocked down or blasted into charred black husks.
Cyndaquil’s movements grew frantic.
Its tiny claws scratched desperately at the snow, searching wildly as small, helpless whimpers escaped its throat.
A moment later.
Its movements abruptly stopped.
In front of a small mound of snow, it slowly brushed the frost away…
A completely cold Typhlosion, the light entirely gone from its eyes, was quietly revealed beneath the snow.
“Inaa…” Cyndaquil’s body began to tremble violently as tears flowed uncontrollably.
It snuggled tightly against its father’s side, but it couldn’t feel even a single trace of warmth…
Right at that moment.
A figure slowly stepped out from behind a massive tree— His clothes were tattered and caked in mud, but the “R” emblem on his chest was still clearly visible.
“What a total monster!
It actually cost me six of my partners!” The Team Rocket grunt’s voice was thick with resentment and mockery.
“But well, look at that.
You little brat actually ran right back?
Truly stupid.
Golem, grab it!” The Golem beside him slammed its massive fists against the ground, creating a heavy, echoing thud.
Feeling that familiar malice, Cyndaquil slowly raised its head, looking at its enemy through blurred, tearful eyes.
Yet, it didn’t turn and run like last time, nor did it take a defensive or battling stance.
It simply pressed itself even closer, burying itself harder against Typhlosion’s freezing body…
…
[PS: The Team Rocket grunt has been capturing other Pokémon in the area during this time, rather than just standing around waiting stupidly for days.] —