The sea was calm, the sky clear, and Larry was knee-deep in an existential crisis—when a fishing boat wheezed into view, its engine hacking like it owed the ocean money.
The boat itself looked like it had seen one too many storms and possibly one too many bar fights. Rust clung to its hull like barnacles with attachment issues, and its faded paint had long since given up the will to live.
On the deck stood a broad-shouldered, middle-aged man with dark, sun-worn skin, salt-crusted clothes, and stars in his eyes.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
There was a visible, almost magical twinkle in his pupils—like he'd locked eyes with a Jirachi once and just never got over it.
"Dear Kyogre!" the man boomed, his voice carrying over the waves like a biblical announcement. Arms flung wide, he looked upon them with the reverence of someone witnessing divine intervention. "Is that a Super Rod?! Holy Suicune, and what a Lapras!"
Blue Oak—whom Larry now referred to exclusively as Boss in his head, like some exhausted RPG character trying to stay alive in a morally ambiguous side quest—perked up immediately. The compliment hit him like a Max Revive to the ego.
"Why, thank you!" Blue called back, grinning with enough wattage to power a lighthouse. "What a stunning little vessel you've got there, sir!"
"This ol' thing?!" The fisherman let out a rich, booming laugh that shook seagulls off nearby buoys. "Built by my father's own hands! Thirty years of service, rain or shine. It ain't pretty, but it's got heart! A family boat, through and through."
Blue placed a hand over his chest, moved as if the boat itself had given a stirring monologue. "That's real. I'm Blue Oak. And I can always tell when a man respects his ship."
The fisherman's eyes went wide, almost cartoonishly so. "Oak?! As in—THE Oak?! Oak Water Enterprise?!"
Blue tilted his head modestly, like a man deeply familiar with being both famous and unbearably charming. "Oh, you've heard of us? Honestly didn't expect the name to make it all the way to Galar."
"Are you kidding?!" the man burst out, practically vibrating. "You reinvented ocean angling! You made commercial fishing look like an art form! My brother cried—cried, mind you!—the first time he ate one of your smoked Tentacool from Sevii!"
Larry blinked slowly. Smoked Tentacool? That sounded less like cuisine and more like a gastrointestinal gamble. But still, even he had to admit—Oak Water Enterprise had clout. His own mother had once said, only half-joking, "If you worked for them, maybe we wouldn't be budgeting socks like TMs."
That sealed it. This man—Blue Oak—Boss—might actually be the real deal.
And he'd gotten a substantial raise to his League-assigned salary—even if it was a different League.
"Come aboard!" the fisherman bellowed. "Let me show you the true beauty of Hulbury's waters. Name's Nelson! This deck's open to good people!"
Larry opened his mouth to politely decline—perhaps cite insurance reasons or chronic discomfort—but Blue was already mid-air, leaping from Lapras to the boat like a man auditioning for Pirates of the Paldean Sea. He landed with a flourish that somehow didn't break anything.
Larry sighed. And followed. That was his job now: sigh, follow, occasionally panic.
Once aboard, Blue wandered toward a stack of fishing crates and peered inside like a curious Meowth. "Only a couple catches?" he said lightly. "And it's already afternoon?"
Nelson's grin faltered, replaced by something older—more worn.
"Aye," he said, voice low. "The sea's gone quiet. My old man warned the city—told them, regulate the fishing, keep the balance. But the suits saw profit. Short-term gold, long-term ruin. They drained these waters faster than a toddler drinks Moomoo Milk. Now Hulbury's just a whisper of its old self."
Blue's usual grin faded. Not in defeat—but in thought.
He reached for his belt and tossed five Poké Balls into the air with a casual flick of the wrist. They burst open in a synchronized display of light and seawater.
Blastoise. Starmie. Gyarados. Poliwrath. Kingdra.
Larry straightened. These weren't showpieces. These Pokémon radiated presence. Scarred, disciplined, calm. The kind of team you sent into a legendary den and expected to come back.
"Search the sea," Blue said simply. "Map what's left. I want to see how deep this damage runs."
Without hesitation, the Pokémon dove beneath the surface with military precision. Water rippled and stilled, leaving only faint trails of bubbles behind.
Larry crossed his arms, the beginnings of something odd forming in his chest.
Respect.
Blue wasn't just talk. He acted. Delegated. Led. And apparently had access to smoked Tentacool, which—while concerning—implied significant influence.
As the sea Pokémon vanished beneath the waves, Nelson clapped a hand to his heart. "Thank you, lad. Whatever you find, it means something to us old timers."
Blue nodded, his voice calm. "Let's see what's left to save."
Larry leaned on the railing, watching the horizon. A week ago, he'd been an office drone with a stack of unfiled reports and a stapler that only worked upside down.
Now? He was part of something strange. Unpredictable. Possibly important.
He still wasn't sure if it was a promotion or an elaborate prank.
But the ocean breeze didn't feel so bad.
And he had two days off.
That counted for something.
Nelson wiped a tear from his eye. "Dear Palkia, I've worked with water Pokémon my whole life, but those six... they're something else. You've got power, kid. And brains."
He looked at Blue, hope flickering in his voice like a Magikarp caught in a thunderstorm.
"Mind if I ask a favor?"
"Shoot," Blue replied, casually leaning against the side of the boat like this was just another Tuesday. Maybe for him, it was.
Nelson leaned in, eyes twinkling, posture shifting into that of a man about to say something big.
"I've got a daughter. Fierce little thing. Hardheaded like her old man—stubborn like her grandfather—and absolutely terrifying in an argument. But talented? Way more than I ever was. She's a natural with a rod and reel, sure, but I think she's destined for more."
He pointed dramatically at Blue.
"After seeing your team… Blue, would you teach her? Show her the ropes, the waves, the wild side of the sea? She knows how beautiful the ocean can be—but only folks like us know how dangerous it is. If you were with her, I'd sleep easier knowing I wasn't just tossing her into a Gyarados' mouth."
Blue scratched the back of his neck. "Time's the one thing I've got the least of…" He paused—then grinned. "But talent? That's the one thing I always make time for. Let me meet her first."
And that's how Larry—former office drone, proud ex-zombie of the corporate underworld—found himself trudging through the salty seaside town of Hulbury toward a crooked wooden house that somehow smelled exactly like Nelson: salty, smoky, and ever so slightly chaotic.
He glanced up at the seagulls wheeling overhead and sighed with quiet despair.
Why am I in nature? Where are the reports? The spreadsheets? The strategic plans? I'm not built for this much sunlight. His fingers twitched involuntarily—probably withdrawal symptoms from not typing 120 words per minute while mainlining black coffee.
His thoughts drifted back to the cockroach. Yes. That was it. He was a cockroach. Emotionally. Professionally. Evolutionarily. Only something that durable—and joyless—could survive 20-hour shifts, budget drills, and mandatory trust-building workshops.
No, he corrected himself suddenly. I'm not a cockroach. I'm just a normal dude. A very, very emotionally weatherproof dude.
The house was small, warm, and smelled like sea air and garlic. They were greeted at the door by a stunning, middle-aged woman who moved with the kind of effortless grace that suggested she'd never once stubbed her toe in her life. She spoke with a softness that made Larry feel like his entire nervous system had short-circuited.
"This is Maria," Nelson said, puffing up with pride. "My wife!"
Larry blinked. Then blinked again.
He wasn't quite sure how that had happened. The odds didn't add up. It was like seeing a Wobbuffet dating a Gardevoir—not impossible, just… statistically confusing.
He gave a polite nod. Dating wasn't really his thing. Or, more specifically, humans weren't his thing. People used to joke he was married to his job. The joke stopped being funny when his job listed him as his own emergency contact.
Maria set the table with practiced ease, and soon they were all seated around a hot, home-cooked lunch.
He looked at the food. His face didn't move, but his stomach let out a quiet roar that might've come from a Hydreigon. He hadn't eaten a proper homemade meal since… childhood? Before email. Before conference calls. Before he needed three different passwords just to print one page.
Millennia ago, he thought, poking a potato like it might vanish if he looked too eager.
Then the door swung open.
A young woman stepped inside—late teens, maybe early twenties. She had her father's deep brown skin and her mother's effortless poise. Charisma walked in with her, like a partner Pokémon.
"Nessa, my girl!" Nelson lit up. "Come meet our guests! This young man is Blue Oak, and the other gentleman is, uh…"
He scratched the back of his head, sheepish. "Sir, I—I never got your name…"
Larry stared into the distance for a moment, Blue's earlier words still echoing in his brain:
"You're like a bug. People don't notice you until you crawl up their leg."
He winced. Damn. I really am a bug. Bars. Boss got bars.
"Larry," he said flatly, voice as lively as a coffin lid closing.
Nessa offered a polite smile and a slight bow of her head. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Larry."
She was elegance in human form. A Gyarados of presence. Larry didn't blink, didn't flinch, didn't smile. But internally, he filed this under: Reasons why I should never have left the office.
Blue, for once, actually looked surprised. A flicker of something crossed his face—interest? Respect? Hormones? Larry wasn't sure.
This was why youth was dangerous in any professional setting. Too spontaneous. Too emotionally reactive. Too easily distracted by pretty people.
Larry quietly sipped his tea, trying not to sigh aloud.
He missed spreadsheets.
"Nessa! This young man here is Blue," Nelson continued with gusto. "I asked him to be your teacher!"
"Teacher?" Nessa glanced at Blue, eyebrows raised, eyes narrowing like she was checking for hidden cameras. "Dad, no offense, but… is he even older than me?"
"How old are you, son?" Nelson asked.
"I'm turning eighteen next month," Blue replied, clearly proud—like he'd just announced he owned a yacht and two Gyarados.
Larry felt a migraine start to bloom in the back of his skull. Eighteen? Dear Arceus. He'd quit his job—his job!—to follow a teenager with too much hair gel and too much charisma. Was this his villain origin story? Was he about to become a Dark-type?
"I'm sixteen," Nessa said flatly. "This guy's not even two years older than me."
"I'm… Blue Oak," Blue added, used to his name doing most of the heavy lifting.
"Wait." Nessa leaned forward, one brow raised. "As in Oak Water Enterprise?"
Blue shrugged modestly, but it still came off smug. "Yeah. My family started it."
"That's kinda cool," she admitted. "But I'm not interested in becoming a fisherman. I want to be a water-type specialist."
Nelson nodded solemnly. "And that's exactly why you should see his Pokémon."
"And the way he moves through the sea," he added, tone shifting to something near-reverent. "It's not just sailing. It's... poetry."
"I'm also the Champion of Kanto," Blue added casually, like he was commenting on the weather.
"THE CHAMPION?!" Nelson, Maria, and Nessa shouted in unison, nearly falling out of their chairs.
"Nelson!" Maria hissed, smacking his arm with a dish towel. "You brought a Champion into our home and didn't tell me?! What if I served him leftovers?!"
"I didn't know!" Nelson looked genuinely scandalized. "He just seemed like some hotshot kid with a fancy Lapras!"
Meanwhile, Larry stared blankly at his plate. Ah yes, he mused, the power of a Champion. People liked Champions. They noticed Champions. Champions didn't get left off calendar invites or forgotten during team lunches.
That's why Larry could never be one.
He was comfortable in the margins. Happy to be ignored. Happiness, for Larry, meant nobody approaching him—especially at work. People approaching him meant tasks. Tasks meant deadlines. Deadlines meant suffering.
"Well," Blue said smoothly, as if the tidal wave of excitement hadn't just happened. "Back to the topic. I'll agree to take your daughter as a student."
"Thank you, Blue!" Nelson beamed, pride making his voice go thick. "Nessa, did you hear that?"
"I did," she said slowly. Her expression had settled into something thoughtful. "But… doesn't that mean I'd have to go to Kanto? I don't even know where that is on the map."
Maria's expression tightened. "I don't like the sound of that, honey. Kanto's halfway across the world. She's still a child."
Nelson turned to her, voice calm but firm. "Maria, we've always said she was meant for more than Hulbury. This isn't just some fishing trip. It's her future."
Blue nodded, then leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. "I understand your concern. I've been thinking about that, actually. I have another idea—one that doesn't involve splitting the family apart."
The room stilled.
"Sevii Islands," he said. "A cluster of nine islands off the coast of Kanto. That's where Oak Water Enterprise is headquartered. We're expanding—fast—and we're building a specialized Water-type Gym there as part of the development."
He let the idea sink in for a beat.
"We need people who understand the ocean. People who don't just train Water-types, but respect them. Who know what it means to live and work with the sea."
Blue looked at Nelson now, tone steady. "I've met a lot of trainers who call themselves sea folk. But you? Watching how you handled your ship, how you talk about the ocean—I can tell you're the real deal."
He smiled, just slightly. "So here's my offer: come to Sevii. Bring your boat. Help us build something. I'll put you in charge of one of the islands. You'd help train the next generation, and Nessa can stay close while learning from some of the best Water trainers in the world."
He paused.
"And the waters around Sevii… they're alive. Really alive. You'd love it there."
Silence settled over the table like sea fog.
Nelson turned slowly to his wife. "Maria… did I just get a job offer from Oak Water Enterprise?"
Maria blinked like she needed to reboot. "It… sounds like you did."
Nessa glanced between her parents and Blue. "You're really offering my dad an island? Just like that?"
Blue nodded. "He's earned it."
Nelson sat back in his chair, exhaling like a balloon that had been overinflated for decades. Then, slowly, a grin crept across his face. "Well then… maybe it's time we finally left these waters behind."
Maria placed her hand on his, her voice soft. "If this is really what you want… we'll follow you."
Nessa looked down at her hands for a moment, then met Blue's eyes. "I'm nervous," she admitted. "But… I think I want to try. I want to see what's out there."
Blue gave her a small, confident nod. "That's all it takes."
Off to the side, Larry took a sip of lukewarm tea, his face unreadable. But somewhere deep inside, something stirred. Not joy, exactly. More like… awareness. Like a Wailmer breaching under the surface of a still ocean.
Maybe it was the idea of starting fresh. Or watching a man get handed a second chance—not through luck, but by quietly being good at what he did for a very long time.
What a strange day, Larry thought. I quit my job. Met a Champion.
He still wasn't sure how he'd ended up here. Or why.
But… two days off a week?
A raise?
A—he could hardly believe it—promotion?
That was real.
And maybe—just maybe—that was enough. No… it was more than enough. It was something good. Something he hadn't expected.
Poor Larry had no idea what Blue really had in store for him.