[Beckett's Breeding Center: Nursey]
The second Link saw Froakie's smug expression, he bolted. Without warning, he tackled the water-type head-on, sending Froakie flying across the nursery floor. The impact wasn't light—Froakie tumbled hard, hit a shallow edge, and skidded, but still managed to land on all fours, braced and unshaken. Arlo stood from the splash zone, brushing bits of wet foam from his jacket. He wasn't injured, just damp and slightly annoyed.
"Okay," Arlo muttered under his breath, "guess we're doing this the aggressive way."
Link and Froakie locked eyes. Both crouched low, poised to strike. The tension in the room flipped instantly—no more playful barking or soft gurgles from nearby Pokémon. Just raw, unspoken challenge.
Amaya stepped forward quickly. "If this is going where I think it's going, we need to shut it down before they wreck the Nursery."
"Wait," Arlo said, raising one hand while keeping his eyes on the two Pokémon. "Let me battle him. Froakie doesn't care about words, but he gets one thing—combat. He speaks through action." He didn't need to explain further. The way Froakie moved, the way he challenged Link without hesitation—it was clear. Arlo had met people like that. Pokémon weren't all that different.
Amaya studied Arlo for a moment, then sighed. "All right. You've got five minutes. If either of them looks unstable, I end it. And if something breaks, that's on your guild's insurance."
Arlo gave a half-nod, stepping back and calling out to Link. "You ready?"
Link barked in reply, his stance low and eager. "Good. Start with Rock Throw."
Link's eyes lit up as stones materialized around his body in a swirl. With a growl, he launched them one by one at Froakie. The water-type didn't dodge—instead, he reached up and peeled frubbles from his neck, tossing them midair like decoys. Each rock struck the foam, neutralizing the hit on impact.
Arlo blinked. That wasn't just defensive instinct. That was calculated improvisation. "Clever," he muttered. "This one's got real field sense."
Froakie wasn't done. In a blur of motion, he activated Quick Attack, his body glowing faintly. But this wasn't a standard dash—Froakie followed up with Cut. A knife-like light formed in his hand, and he moved with shocking speed. Arlo barely had time to shout a command before Froakie slashed through the gap and landed a clean hit across Link's flank. Link staggered but held his ground, growling with grit.
"Counter with Bite!" Arlo called. Link lunged forward, his teeth glowing dark. He bit down hard on Froakie's arm, yanking him off-balance.
"Now slam him to the ground!" Arlo followed up. Link twisted and body-slammed Froakie into the ground. The floor tiles cracked beneath the force, and for a second, it looked like the fight was over.
"Damn," Amaya muttered, watching with arms crossed. "Most Froakie would be unconscious by now." But Froakie wasn't out yet. He groaned, rolled, then sprung up again using Quick Attack. Arlo saw the gleam in his eyes—this wasn't just survival. He was testing them.
"Watch his movement!" Arlo yelled. Link locked on, waiting. When Froakie closed in, Arlo gave the cue, "Use Bite again!" But Froakie feinted—he tossed frubbles straight into Link's mouth, jamming the attack mid-motion. Link coughed, caught off-guard, and Froakie used the opening to slam a Pound directly into Link's side, knocking him back.
Arlo stepped forward slightly, his voice low. "Link, are you okay?"
Link barked back, chest heaving but still in the fight. Arlo grit his teeth. Froakie was at least ten levels below Link, but the way he fought—chaining moves, creating feints, using his body like a weapon—was something else. It was like he'd trained in real battles, not just a daycare tank.
"All right," Arlo muttered. "Time to end it." He took a sharp breath. "Link use Rock Throw again!"
Link roared as another wave of stones shot forward. Froakie dodged cleanly, jumping and weaving through the barrage. He dashed in close with Quick Attack, glowing again, followed by another Cut. His hand lit up, forming a blade once more.
"He's aiming for a finish," Arlo whispered. "But not this time—Protect!"
Link howled, summoning a greenish energy shield just as Froakie's blade hit. The attack clashed with the barrier, sparking and screeching—blocked completely.
"Now! Link use Thunder Fang!" Arlo barked.
Link's fangs sparked violently as he lunged. The moment Froakie hit the ground from the failed Cut, Link bit down. Electricity surged through Froakie's body. He jolted, eyes wide, and collapsed instantly, steam rising from his skin.
Arlo didn't waste a second. As soon as Froakie collapsed from the Thunder Fang, he moved in with a potion spray already in hand. Link stood guard nearby, still panting from the battle, but keeping an eye on Froakie just in case. Arlo sprayed the worst of the damage on Froakie's side, then gave a few quick spritzes to Link's shoulder and leg where the earlier Cut and Pound had landed. The potion hissed softly on contact, sealing cuts and easing bruises. The medical scent of mint and something vaguely antiseptic filled the air.
"No fainting allowed on my watch," Arlo muttered as he worked. It only took a few minutes before Froakie's fingers twitched. His eyes cracked open, unfocused at first, then locked on Arlo crouched beside him. Arlo's expression was neutral, but there was a small weight in his eyes—concern, measured and quiet. Froakie stared at him, confused. There was no mockery in the trainer's face. No smugness. Just… presence.
Arlo noticed Froakie was back online."Are you okay, Froakie?" he asked simply. Froakie blinked once, then nodded slowly. Arlo let out a quiet breath. "Good." He turned to Link. "Hey, buddy. Job well done."
Link perked up, tail wagging. Without hesitation, he jumped forward and headbutted Arlo into a hug—well, as close as a Rockruff could manage one.
Arlo let out a chuckle. "All right, calm down, you meatball."
Froakie watched the moment with narrowed eyes. The connection between the two was obvious. Tight bond. Unspoken trust. It stung, but not in a way Froakie expected. Not jealousy, exactly… something more like longing. He stood up slowly, dusted himself off, and turned his back, about to hop away—but Arlo caught it out of the corner of his eye.
Arlo stood and called out, "You're not walking off after all that, are you?"
Froakie paused, one leg still lifted. He turned his head slightly, curious but guarded. Arlo kept his voice calm. "I asked if you wanted to be part of this team. You fought like hell. You think I'd ignore that?"
Link let out a single encouraging bark, tail wagging again. Froakie looked between the two of them. For a long moment, he didn't move. Then, slowly, Froakie stepped toward Arlo. There was hesitation in his hands, but something in his posture softened. Arlo reached his hand out, palm open. Froakie stared at it like it was a trap at first. But then, with a cautious but firm motion, he placed his hand in Arlo's. A simple shake.
"Glad to have you," Arlo said, giving his new teammate a warm smile. "Let's look out for each other."
Froakie stared up at him, silent—but his lips curled upward, barely. It wasn't a full smile. But it was honest. And without warning, he leapt up and perched on Arlo's shoulder like he'd always belonged there.
Amaya had been standing a few steps away, arms crossed and observing the whole thing. Now she stepped forward, shaking her head with a smirk. "Looks like someone finally found a trainer willing to keep up with him," she said.
Arlo glanced at her. "Looks like I found a partner who doesn't go easy."
"He never does," she replied, then looked to Froakie. "Well, congrats. Guess your sulking era is officially over."
Froakie gave a short chirp in response "Froa..kie, Froa". Not quite smug—but definitely proud. Arlo could tell.
"So," Arlo said, adjusting Froakie's weight on his shoulder, "how much am I paying for this little troublemaker?"
Amaya tilted her head, considering. "Fifteen thousand credits, normally."
Arlo raised an eyebrow, keeping a straight face—but in his mind, his wallet screamed with horror. That was more than he wanted to spend by a long shot. Still, he didn't flinch. "Okay…" he said carefully.
"But," Amaya continued, "given his... history, and the fact we weren't expecting to sell him anyway, I can give you a 40% discount. That brings it down to nine thousand."
That was more tolerable. Arlo gave her a small, appreciative nod. "Deal. And thanks."
"Just don't bring him back for a refund," Amaya added with a wink. "No take-backs."
"No plans to," Arlo replied, glancing up at Froakie, who was now quietly settled on his shoulder. "Looks like we're stuck with each other."
Froakie let out a contented chirp "Froa.. kie, Froa... kie"
Froakie leaned into Arlo's head slightly, surprisingly light for how much chaos he could unleash in battle. He reached up, giving him a light tap on the snout. "You better not be this much trouble every day."
***
After the battle and bonding, Amaya took Arlo to a side terminal where she began processing the ownership transfer. It was mostly digital—tapping through menus, verifying Arlo's Pioneer ID, assigning Froakie's profile to him. Once the final confirmation popped, a smooth mechanical hiss echoed as a brand-new Pokéball slid from the dispenser slot.
Amaya handed it over. "Here," she said. "Your Froakie's now officially registered to you."
Arlo took the Pokéball, staring at the red-and-white sphere for a second before pocketing it. "Thanks," he said simply.
Amaya leaned on the counter. "Honestly, thank you. A lot of people don't get it, but some Pokémon—just like people—don't click with everyone. They wait. They pick. And that means they spend a long time being overlooked. Froakie's one of the few like that. Smart. Skilled. But stubborn."
"I get it," Arlo replied, his tone serious now. "Some folks just need the right push. Or the right hands." He scratched the back of his head, aware of how sentimental it could've sounded—but Amaya just smiled."I know you will take care of him. That's enough for me," she said.With the exchange complete, Arlo gave her a short nod and turned toward the exit. "Appreciate everything, Amaya. I'll get him into shape."
"You better," she called after him, grinning. "He'll keep you on your toes."
...
Outside, Arlo wasted no time. He opened his BrainLink mid-walk and called Shannon, his usual Pokéblock supplier. After a few rings, her cheerful face popped up on the holographic call.
"Hey, Arlo!" Shannon beamed. "What's up?"
"I just picked up a Water-Type Pokémon," Arlo said. "I pick up a Froakie. I need you to prep some Pokéblocks. Something with Hi-boosting Nutrients and a flavor profile that would a Water Pokemon like."
Shannon perked up. "Froakie, huh? That's a fun one. I'll mix up something that helps with reflex and reaction time. Same delivery method as Link's?"
"Yeah. Just drop it off at my apartment. Bill me now." Arlo replied"Okay I will send the pokeblocks later to your apartment," she said, tapping something offscreen. "1,000 credits, same as the last order."
Arlo confirmed the payment with a blink through his BrainLink Holo-screen. "Thanks, Shannon."
"It'll be there before sunset. Congrats on the new partner!" Shannon said, giving a thumbs-up. The call ended.
Looking down at his two Pokémon—Link walking casually beside him and Froakie perched smugly on his shoulder—Arlo smirked. "Since we're already out here in the Coastal Zone… might as well take a look around."
They started walking along the boardwalk near the manmade sea. The ocean wind was brisk, salt-kissed. Froakie leaned forward, wide-eyed as the waves broke along the sand. Link barked at a seagull overhead. Arlo glanced left and saw what looked like a beachfront resort with colorful signage.
"Seashell Shores Beach Resort and Water Park," Arlo read out loud. "Subtle."
Still, the place looked legit—clean, busy, active. Families, other trainers, even a few Pokémon running freely on designated paths.Inside the resort lodge, a cheerful female receptionist greeted him as he stepped up to the counter. "Welcome to Seashell Shores! How can I help you today, sir?"
Arlo kept it short. "Looking to relax. Do you offer packages for trainers and their Pokémon?"
"Absolutely!" She tapped a screen that projected a holographic menu. "Our full-day package includes private beach access, pools, kayaking, paddleboards, beachside massage services, and lounge rentals like gazebos. We also have seafood buffets and nutrition-specific meals for your Pokémon companions."
Arlo skimmed the list. "How much?"
"500 credits for the full access package, which includes both you and your Pokémon." Arlo's brain screamed, but his face remained unchanged. Internally, he was calculating the credit drain—Pokéblocks, transport, Froakie's discount price, and now this. Still, after the week he'd had, some downtime was overdue. And it was a chance to help Froakie ease into the team. "Alright," he said, swiping the payment through BrainLink.
"Alright," he said, swiping the payment through BrainLink.
"Thank you, sir!" the receptionist said. "Enjoy your stay. You'll find your locker and gazebo assignment on your BrainLink dashboard."
Walking into the resort, Arlo surveyed the activity. There were swimmers, trainers sparring in safe zones, Pokémon enjoying splash zones. Link immediately darted toward a designated canine pool, while Froakie jumped off Arlo's shoulder and bounced toward the shallow beach, eyes sparkling.
Arlo stood still for a moment, letting the sun warm his face. For once, he wasn't rushing to complete a quest or chase leads. No alarms. No countdowns. Just waves crashing, Pokémon laughing—or barking—and a well-earned break."This," he muttered to himself, "might've actually been a good call."