The silver badge felt heavier than Shion expected.
It gleamed in his hand as he stepped out of the Ravelle Grand Guild Hall, the sun dipping low behind Bellmire's rooftops, painting the sky in hues of soft orange and fading violet. Lamps along the stone roads flickered to life, their runic flames catching reflections in the glass storefronts.
A gentle breeze passed through the streets, tugging at Shion's green scarf. The same scarf he'd worn since brookmill. Frayed at the ends now, but still his.
He looked down at the two Poké Balls hanging from his belt.
Kiba. Rune.
They had pushed themselves far past their limits today. They hadn't won, but they hadn't fallen either. Against that monstrous Haxorus, they'd made a stand and earned their place as silver-ranked Pokémon and as partners.
Shion sighed, brushing dust off his coat as he stepped away from the guild steps.
"Alright," he muttered, already turning down the main road. "Time for a check-up."
Kiba definitely needed one. Rune… well, Rune was a problem of scale. The golem was too big for the average clinic bed and too heavy for most city flooring. But Shion could still pick up supplies, maybe pain salves, healing dust, something.
Just as he rounded the corner of a vendor's cart, his satchel jostled.
A muffled yawn came from within.
Then a loud snort.
Then the sound of chewing.
"What happened ?" came a familiar, sleepy voice.
Shion glanced down as Bidoof's head popped out of his bag, his cheeks stuffed with half a Pecha bun he'd apparently stolen from inside during his nap.
"You missed the whole thing," Shion muttered.
Bidoof blinked, chewed louder, then gave a dismissive snort. "I dreamed of victory. That counts."
"You dream a lot."
"I carry divine weight," Bidoof said sagely, crumbs falling from his lips. "The body must rest for the mind to ascend."
Shion didn't answer.
But he smiled.
They walked through the city in near-silence, save for Bidoof occasionally humming off-key to himself.
As they passed an open shop window, Shion reached for a third Poké Ball.
He stared at it.
The one that held Treecko.
He hadn't checked on the little one since buying it from that miserable place earlier. Hadn't even had a chance to speak with it properly.
Now's the time.
"Hey," he asked a passing woman who was walking a Clefairy "is there a Pokémon clinic nearby?"
She gave him a once-over mud-stained coat, silver badge half-visible, the strange Bidoof on his shoulder then nodded.
"Down near the third bridge," she said. "Past the spice road. Yellow door with a blue sign shaped like a Chansey."
"Thanks."
They reached the clinic twenty minutes later.
It was a modest building tucked between a grain shop and a cobbler's, its tiled roof faded by years of sun. A sign above the door swung slightly in the breeze, painted with a smiling Chansey holding a heart-shaped apple.
Shion stepped inside.
The scent of disinfectant and dried herbs hung in the air.
A soft chime rang as the door shut behind him.
A nurse in pale green robes looked up from her scrolls. "Welcome. Please wait there, someone will be with you shortly."
Shion nodded and sat in a cushioned chair. Bidoof curled up beside him, already snoring again.
Soon, a tired-looking doctor with rectangular glasses and an Audino at her side stepped through the back door.
"Shion, was it?" she asked, checking a wooden ledger.
He stood and bowed slightly. "Yes. I wanted a check-up for two of my Pokémon. One's a Lycanroc and the other…"
He hesitated.
"…I just got him. A Treecko. He's not in great shape."
The doctor's brow furrowed slightly.
"Well, let's take a look."
Inside the treatment room, Kiba stood quietly on the platform, occasionally flinching as the doctor ran her scanner over his flank.
The Treecko sat silently on the table, arms folded tightly against his chest. His eyes didn't meet anyone's. His scales were dull. His movements barely perceptible.
The doctor stared at the small Pokémon, then turned her eyes toward Shion with an edge.
"Have you been taking care of it properly?"
Shion blinked. "What? I—no, I mean, yes, I will. But I just… bought him."
The doctor's lips pursed.
"Bought?."
"I didn't mean it like that," Shion said quickly. "There was this back-alley shop. He looked sick. Abused. I just… I couldn't leave him there."
The doctor exhaled slowly, her tone softening. "I see. Sorry. It happens more than you'd think. I just… needed to be sure."
Shion nodded. "I get it."
She turned to Audino and nodded.
"Use Healing Pulse. Start gentle."
Audino's feelers shimmered as soft, pinkish energy rippled outward. The pulse spread through the room like warm water. Kiba closed his eyes and sighed, tension visibly draining from his body. Treecko flinched at first, but didn't resist.
The energy wrapped around him, easing into his small body.
After a moment… his arms relaxed.
A faint shimmer returned to his eyes.
"Will it help?" Shion asked.
The doctor nodded. "It's not a cure-all, but it'll restore stamina, repair tissue, and stabilize him. Emotionally? That'll take time."
Shion swallowed. "I'll be patient."
"You'd better be."
After giving Kiba a small dose of burn salve and wrapping a slight muscle tear, the doctor stepped back and cleaned her hands.
Shion reached into his coat and pulled out a folded parchment.
"I have one more," he said. "But… he's too big. A Golurk."
The doctor blinked. "Too big for the table, I assume."
"More like too big for the block," Shion muttered.
"Can Healing Pulse reach inside the Poké Ball?"
The doctor thought for a moment. "Technically, yes. But it's not as effective. The energy's diluted when it passes through the containment field."
"Even a little is better than nothing," Shion said.
She nodded. "We'll have Audino channel a mild version. Just tell me which ball."
Shion handed her Rune's Poké Ball and watched as Audino channeled the energy once more.
Shion stood quietly, eyes flicking back to Treecko.
He was sitting up now.
Not quite alert.
But… aware.
The doctor noticed.
"You did a good thing," she said softly. "Even if it hurts to see places like that exist."
Shion hesitated.
"I didn't know," he said. "About Pokémon being sold like that. Legally."
The doctor's face darkened.
"It's legal. But barely. There are licenses and regulations but the truth is, it's a loophole. The guild doesn't enforce much outside city centers. And even then, money talks."
She folded her arms. "Most of those shops operate on 'breeding rights' or 'salvaged ownership.' Some claim to rescue abandoned Pokémon but you saw what that really means."
Shion clenched a fist.
"It's wrong."
The doctor met his eyes. "Then stay in this world long enough to do something about it."
Shion left the clinic with a small pouch of salves, a quiet Lycanroc walking beside him, and a Treecko resting loosely in his arms.
The sky was dark now.
Bellmire glowed with lamplight, and somewhere far off, a musician played a slow tune on a wooden flute.
And Bidoof? the so called god
He was still snoring.
---
The streets of Bellmire glowed now under lanternlight.
Shion walked slowly, half from fatigue, half from wanting to savor the quiet. The clang of forges and bell towers had faded. In their place, the evening crowd had emerged people laughing, musicians playing soft strings on balconies, Pokémon wandering free beside children chasing after streetlight insects.
It felt… calm.
Even after everything.
Kiba padded beside him, bandaged but proud. Treecko sat nestled against his chest in one arm, dozing lightly but stirring now and then.
And Bidoof
"There! There!" Bidoof pointed with his paw, still tucked halfway into Shion's satchel. "That one! That's the one I smelled! Smells like joy and gravy!"
Shion blinked, following the pointed paw.
A glowing wooden sign hung overhead across the street, shaped like a Poké Puff. Painted letters danced magically across the surface:
"The Paw & Plate – Pokémon Friendly Tavern!"
Beneath it: windows alight with warm orange glow, rows of small round tables, and… was that a Torchic with a napkin tied around its neck?
Inside, trainers laughed beside their partners, meals of every kind steaming on raised platforms, special bowls customized for Pokémon shape and size.
Bidoof vibrated in the satchel.
"We are entering. We are feasting. I will not be denied."
Shion sighed.
"I guess you guys earned it ."
---
The inside of the tavern was even cozier than it looked from the outside. Wood beams lined the ceiling. The floors were polished clean despite muddy paw prints here and there. Shelves lined the walls with ribbons, and framed badges from trainers who'd passed through.
A smiling hostess with a red Bandanna greeted him at the door.
"Table for one and… a team?"
"Yeah," Shion said. "I've got three active right now. One's… sleeping."
She nodded and gestured to a quiet corner booth with cushioned seating and a small elevated feeding platform.
He sat down, stretching slightly as he glanced over the menu.
And immediately winced.
"...This is almost worse than a bandit attack," he muttered, eyes darting over the prices.
Pokémon platters. Herb-smoked Pecha roast. Cherubi-glazed dumplings. Sitrus soup. Grilled tamato with fig jam.
It was high quality and it showed in the numbers.
Bidoof leaned in beside him, eyes wide. "We are not leaving."
"I didn't say we were."
"You thought it."
Shion groaned. "Fine, fine."
He placed the order two Pokémon platters, customized for a Lycanroc and a Treecko. Plus an extra for the very loud Bidoof who was now trying to charm the waitress.
Rune, sadly, won't be having any.
There was no way a Golem the size of a cabin would fit through the door. Shion felt a pang of guilt, but he'd make it up to him.
---
Once the food was cooking, Shion gently released his team.
Kiba blinked in the warm light, tail flicking. Treecko appeared beside him in a soft flash of red light, blinking in confusion at the surroundings. It stood stiffly at first, looking around warily.
Bidoof immediately clambered out of the bag and waddled to the table, hopping onto the seat cushion like royalty reclaiming a throne.
Kiba sat beside him, sniffing at the air.
Treecko… didn't move at first.
Shion watched carefully.
"Hey," he said gently, crouching down. "You can sit here. It's safe."
Treecko looked at him. Still guarded. Still silent.
Then its eyes drifted to Kiba relaxed, calm, proud.
And then to the platform of food that had just arrived.
Two waitstaff placed bowls and platters on the table. One filled with sliced berries over steaming grain puffs, the other lined with soft dumplings and gravy-glazed bread cubes.
Treecko hesitated.
Then climbed up slowly, sitting just beside the edge of the bowl, not touching it.
Kiba didn't wait. He sniffed, growled happily, and dug in with impressive precision tail wagging gently as he chomped into the meal.
Bidoof, of course, face-planted straight into his dish and emerged with his entire head stained purple from some kind of berry paste.
"Mmph. Worth it."
Shion chuckled.
Then looked back at Treecko.
Still watching the food. Still unmoving.
Until
One tiny claw reached forward.
A berry piece was lifted to its mouth.
A bite.
Chew.
Then… a halt.
Its eyes widened.
A flicker of something sparked behind them. Not light. Not clarity.
But recognition.
It tasted real food.
Not dry pellets.
Not moldy scraps.
Something warm.
Fresh.
Good.
And then it devoured the rest.
Fast.
Messy.
Furious.
Like it had been starving for weeks.
Shion didn't stop it.
Didn't scold. Didn't react.
He just watched, quiet and steady, his face softening.
"...You deserve it," he whispered.
---
Ten minutes later, the bowls were empty. Every plate licked clean. Even Treecko looked rounder, sitting awkwardly like it wasn't used to feeling full.
It sat beside Bidoof now, eyes half-lidded, tail twitching slightly.
Shion leaned back in his chair, sipping from a small cup of berry tea, and smiled.
The room was warm. His team was fed. And for a few moments, the world wasn't chasing them.
He reached into his coin pouch, then immediately flinched at the light clink.
"...That's gonna hurt."
Bidoof belched proudly beside him.
Shion rolled his eyes. "You better not ask for dessert."
"I won't," Bidoof said solemnly.
A pause.
Then: "...But if it accidentally arrives, it would be rude to refuse."
Kiba snorted softly.
Treecko gave a tiny hiccup. Then blinked sleepily, head bobbing.
Shion looked down at the silver badge still pinned to his coat.
The weight of it wasn't physical.
But it was there.
Time to earn it.
He leaned back, watching the dim lanterns sway outside the window.
"Tomorrow," he murmured, "we start the real work."