Three days after Laura Crowe’s funeral, Ethan packed the last of his clothes into a cardboard box.
At least, he thought it was the last.
He looked around his bedroom.
The closet was empty.
His schoolbooks were packed.
His computer had already been placed in Grandpa’s truck, along with several boxes of clothes, books, and everything else a twelve-year-old apparently accumulated without realizing it.
The room looked larger now.
And wrong.
Ethan picked up his backpack from the bed.
“That’s everything.”
Delcatty sat beside the bedroom door.
She stared at him.
“What?”
“Del.”
“I checked.”
Delcatty continued staring.
Ethan sighed and looked beneath his bed.
A pair of shoes.
He pulled them out.
“Fine.
Almost everything.”
Delcatty’s tail lifted.
“Don’t look so proud.”
She followed him into the living room.
Most of the apartment had already been packed away.
Some furniture would go into storage.
Grandpa said there was no reason to rush through Laura’s belongings — they could decide what to keep later.
Ethan was grateful for that.
He wasn’t ready to watch people put his mother’s life into cardboard boxes.
Her favorite mug was still beside the kitchen sink.
A jacket remained over the back of a chair.
Her slippers were beside her bedroom door.
Ethan had tried putting them away yesterday.
He couldn’t.
So they stayed.
Delcatty suddenly jumped onto a chair beside the dining table.
“You’re coming too.”
Her ears twitched.
“You know that, right?”
Delcatty stared at him.
Ethan scratched beneath her chin.
“Grandpa has plenty of room.”
She purred quietly.
There had never really been a question about where Delcatty would go.
She had been Mom’s Pokémon.
But she’d also been part of Ethan’s life for as long as he could remember.
Dad had even suggested she should stay with him.
Ethan had refused immediately.
Delcatty was coming with him.
“Ethan?”
Arthur’s voice came from the hallway.
“In here.”
Grandpa appeared carrying another cardboard box.
Stoutland stood behind him.
Arthur looked around.
“Ready?”
“I think so.”
“You think?”
Ethan glanced at Delcatty.
“Apparently I’m bad at packing.”
“Runs in the family.”
“Mom?”
“Your mother once went on a three-day school trip and forgot to pack socks.”
Ethan smiled.
“Seriously?”
“Six shirts.
No socks.”
“Why six shirts?”
“Never got a good answer.”
Arthur picked up Ethan’s last box.
“Your father’s downstairs.”
Ethan’s smile faded slightly.
“Why?”
“Paperwork.
And because you’re leaving.”
“Oh.”
Grandpa stopped at the doorway.
“He agreed to this, Ethan.”
“I know.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s happy about it.”
Ethan looked away.
Arthur didn’t lecture him.
He simply said, “Say goodbye.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
Then he left.
Ethan looked around the apartment one last time.
His eyes stopped on the refrigerator.
Photographs covered the door, held in place by cheap Pokémon magnets Mom had collected over the years.
One showed seven-year-old Ethan holding a stuffed Pikachu almost as large as he was.
Another showed Laura at the Bennett orchard with Grandpa.
Near the bottom was a picture from last summer: Ethan and his mother stood behind a berry stall, both holding ice cream, Delcatty between them with her front paws on the table, apparently trying to steal Laura’s cone.
Ethan removed the photograph.
The Butterfree-shaped magnet holding it came with it.
He put both in his backpack.
“Come on.”
Delcatty jumped down.
Together, they left the apartment.
Daniel was waiting outside.
Victoria stood beside him.
Ethan hadn’t expected her.
His stepmother wore a simple coat, her blond hair tied behind her head.
She wasn’t dressed like she normally was when Ethan visited the Ashford home — no expensive jewelry, no carefully chosen outfit.
Just Victoria.
“Ethan.”
“Hi.”
Victoria approached him carefully.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t at the wake.”
“It’s okay.”
“I thought it might be better to give you some space.”
Ethan nodded.
Delcatty walked past him.
Victoria crouched.
“Hello, Delcatty.”
Delcatty sniffed her hand before allowing Victoria to pet her.
“You’re going with Ethan?”
“Del.”
“I suppose that’s obvious.”
Ethan almost smiled.
Victoria stood.
“If you ever want to stay with us, you can.”
Ethan didn’t answer immediately.
“There will always be room,” she added.
He knew what she meant.
He had been to their house enough times.
The Ashfords were wealthy, and Daniel and Victoria lived comfortably.
They had more than enough space for Ethan.
That wasn’t the problem.
“Thanks.”
Victoria smiled faintly.
She didn’t push.
Ethan appreciated that.
Daniel approached.
“Everything packed?”
“Mostly.”
Arthur, carrying the box toward his truck, snorted.
Daniel looked at him.
“Mostly?”
“Don’t ask.”
Daniel returned his attention to Ethan.
“I spoke with your school.”
Ethan stiffened.
“What about it?”
“You won’t have to transfer.”
“Really?”
“The Bennett Estate is farther away, but you’re still within the district.
Transportation will be inconvenient, but manageable.”
Ethan hadn’t realized how worried he’d been about that until he heard the answer.
He had already lost Mom.
He didn’t want to lose his school and friends too.
“Thanks, Dad.”
Daniel nodded.
“Your grandfather and I still have some things to work out.
But for now, you’ll stay with him.”
“For now?”
Daniel gave him a look.
“Ethan.”
“Okay.”
His father sighed.
“I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Neither do I.”
Daniel hesitated.
Then he opened his arms.
Ethan stood there for a moment before stepping forward.
His father hugged him tightly.
“I’m still your father,” Daniel said quietly.
“I know.”
“Living with Grandpa doesn’t change that.”
“I know.”
“If you need anything, you call me.”
“Okay.”
Daniel released him.
Arthur’s old pickup was parked nearby, its bed filled with Ethan’s belongings.
Stoutland was already lying across the back seat.
Delcatty jumped in beside him.
The two Pokémon looked at each other.
Stoutland shifted slightly.
Delcatty immediately took most of the available space.
Ethan stared.
“You weigh a quarter of what he does.”
Delcatty curled up.
Stoutland looked at Ethan as if asking for assistance.
“You’re on your own.”
Arthur laughed from the driver’s side.
Ethan climbed into the passenger seat.
Before Grandpa started the engine, Ethan looked back toward the apartment building.
For twelve years, Grayhaven had been home.
More specifically, that apartment had been home.
Because Mom had been there.
Now it was just an apartment.
Daniel and Victoria stood beside their car.
His father raised a hand.
Ethan raised his own.
Arthur started the truck.
They pulled away.
Grayhaven slowly disappeared behind them.
Tall buildings became smaller.
Traffic thinned.
Apartment blocks gave way to warehouses, then suburbs, and eventually open land.
Ethan watched through the window.
A flock of Pidove scattered from a field as they passed.
Several Tauros grazed behind a reinforced fence.
A trainer rode a Rapidash along a trail beside the highway.
Farther away, Ethan spotted what looked like a Corviknight flying above the tree line.
The Pokémon disappeared before he could get a better look.
“You’ll be helping around the orchard.”
Ethan turned toward Grandpa.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I’m grieving.”
“Very tragic.”
Ethan stared at him.
Arthur kept a perfectly straight face.
“Child labor?”
“You’ll survive.”
“Mom said you made her work every summer.”
“Your mother exaggerated.”
“She said you paid terribly.”
“I gave her food.”
“She said you’d say that.”
Arthur glanced at him.
“Your mother talked too much.”
Ethan smiled.
“Yeah.”
The word came out softer than he intended.
Grandpa didn’t say anything else.
They drove in silence for several minutes.
It wasn’t uncomfortable.
That was another thing Ethan liked about Grandpa.
Arthur didn’t seem afraid of silence.
Eventually they turned onto a smaller road.
Ethan recognized it immediately.
He had traveled this way dozens of times.
Then the old wooden sign appeared.
BENNETT ORCHARDS
Several painted berries decorated the bottom.
The sign had faded badly.
“You need a new sign.”
Arthur glanced at it.
“That sign works.”
“You can barely read it.”
“I can read it.”
“You already know what it says.”
“Exactly.
Saves money.”
Ethan shook his head.
The Bennett property stretched across rolling land bordered by forest.
Rows of berry trees and shrubs followed the gentle slopes, and several greenhouse structures stood farther down the property.
Pokémon moved among the fields — a Machoke carried crates near one of the storage buildings, several Grass Pokémon worked among the berry rows, and two Murkrow took off from a fence as Grandpa’s truck approached.
The house stood near the center of the property.
Two stories.
Wide porch.
Dark roof.
Old enough that parts of it had been repaired several times.
Laura had grown up here.
Ethan stared at it.
His mother had climbed those steps.
She had eaten breakfast in that kitchen.
She’d fought with Grandpa here.
She had probably been grounded here.
For some reason, knowing that made the place feel different.
Arthur parked.
He switched off the engine.
“Well.”
Ethan looked at him.
“Welcome home.”
Home.
Ethan looked back at the house.
It didn’t feel like home.
Not yet.
But it didn’t feel wrong either.
Grandpa gave Ethan Laura’s old bedroom.
Most of her childhood belongings had disappeared years ago.
The walls had been repainted; there was a bed beneath the window, a dresser, bookshelf, and old wooden desk.
But a few pieces remained.
A faded poster showed a trainer standing beside a Lapras.
Several old books filled one shelf.
And carved into the edge of the desk were two letters.
LB
Ethan ran his finger across them.
“Mom did that?”
Arthur stood behind him.
“Thirteen.”
“You let her carve into furniture?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“Made her sand it out.”
Ethan looked at the very visible letters.
“You did a terrible job.”
“She was supposed to do it.”
Ethan laughed.
Delcatty jumped onto the bed.
She sniffed the blanket.
Then the pillow.
Then she slowly circled twice before lying down.
Ethan watched her.
“Does she remember this room?”
Arthur leaned against the doorway.
“Probably.”
“Mom had her already?”
“Your mother got Skitty when she was young.”
Ethan looked at Delcatty.
He knew Delcatty had been with Laura for years, but he’d never really thought about exactly how long.
“How strong is she?”
“Delcatty?”
“Yeah.”
“Normal Grade.”
Ethan frowned.
“That’s it?”
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
“That’s it?”
“I thought she’d be stronger.”
“Your mother wasn’t a professional Trainer.
She loved Delcatty, fed her too much, and occasionally battled with her when she was younger.”
Delcatty opened one eye.
Arthur pointed at her.
“You know it’s true.”
“Del.”
“Don’t argue with me.”
Ethan smiled.
Then Arthur’s expression changed slightly.
“Speaking of Pokémon…”
Ethan looked at him.
Grandpa pushed away from the doorway.
“Come outside.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
“Grandpa.”
“Outside.”
Ethan followed.
They walked behind the house toward one of the smaller fenced fields.
Stoutland joined them.
Delcatty followed more slowly.
“What is this about?”
“Your birthday.”
“My birthday isn’t for two months.”
“I know.”
“So?”
Arthur opened the gate.
“Your mother and I had been discussing your first Pokémon.”
Ethan stopped.
“What?”
“Before the accident.”
He stared at Grandpa.
Most students Ethan’s age were preparing to become proper Trainers.
Some already owned Pokémon.
Others would use school Pokémon until their families could afford one.
Laura had always told Ethan they would seriously discuss his first Pokémon when he turned twelve.
Apparently she’d already been planning it.
“What Pokémon?”
Arthur pointed.
Beneath a tree at the other end of the field, something moved.
A small black Pokémon stood.
Orange-brown fur covered its muzzle and underbelly, pale bands wrapped around its legs and back, and two curved structures rose from the top of its head.
Ethan recognized it immediately.
“Houndour.”
The Pokémon watched them.
Then it began walking forward.
Ethan looked at Grandpa.
“You bought him?”
“Licensed breeder outside Grayhaven.”
“For me?”
“No.
I thought Stoutland needed a smaller dog.”
Ethan stared at him.
Arthur sighed.
“Yes, Ethan.
He’s yours.”
Ethan turned back.
Houndour stopped several feet away.
He didn’t rush toward Ethan.
Didn’t immediately lick his face.
He simply watched.
Alert.
Curious.
Ethan slowly crouched.
Houndour sniffed the air.
Then approached.
He smelled Ethan’s hand.
His pants.
His shoes.
Ethan remained still.
Finally, Houndour sat in front of him.
“Hi.”
Houndour stared.
Ethan carefully reached forward.
The Pokémon allowed him to place a hand on his head.
His fur was warmer than Ethan expected.
“Your mother helped choose the species,” Arthur said behind him.
Ethan’s hand stopped.
“Mom chose Houndour?”
“She helped.”
“Why?”
Arthur shrugged.
“She thought you’d like him.”
That sounded like Mom.
No complicated reason.
No destiny.
She simply thought Ethan would like Houndour.
And she had been right.
Ethan scratched behind Houndour’s ear.
The Pokémon leaned slightly into his hand.
Arthur pulled a Poké Ball from his pocket.
“This belongs to you.”
Ethan stood.
Grandpa held it out.
For several seconds, Ethan only stared at it.
His first Poké Ball.
His first Pokémon.
Something Mom had been planning before she died.
Ethan reached out and took it.
The ball felt surprisingly heavy in his hand.
Houndour looked at the Poké Ball.
Then at Ethan.
Delcatty sat a short distance away watching them.
Ethan wondered what Mom had imagined — his birthday, maybe, with her standing beside Grandpa, already knowing exactly what she’d say.
He would never know now.
But she had chosen this for him.
Ethan tightened his hand around the Poké Ball.
He looked down at Houndour.
“Guess we’re partners.”
“Hound.”
For the first time since the accident, Ethan felt something other than grief waiting for him tomorrow.
He still missed Mom.
That wasn’t going away.
But tomorrow morning there’d be breakfast, and Grandpa’s orchard, and Delcatty ignoring him from the windowsill — and now Houndour, warm and solid against his side.
Ethan smiled.
“Come on.”
Houndour stood and followed him toward the house.