Field trips were supposed to be fun.
That was the lie they told us, anyway.
Teachers dressed it up as "educational experiences beyond the classroom," but in practice it meant trap ton of walking, a lot of pointing at old rocks and describing how they have untold meaning, and an alarming amount of forced enthusiasm. I tugged at my jacket and sighed, already regretting every life choice that had led me here.
The jacket shifted.
A faint ripple ran across the shiny blue fabric, like it was stretching after a nap. Ditto, ever the empath, shared my misery.
"Yeah," I muttered, keeping my voice low. "I feel the same way."
The jacket softened and reshaped itself, sliding down into a compact bag at my side. Practical. Ditto always knew when comfort mattered less than mobility.
The class trudged along the outskirts of Noctopolis, right where the city thinned and the ruins began. Most people avoided this area , it was too close to the ghost-energy district. It didn't help that many stories about strange sightings and unexplained chills where told about it, and no one really wanted to figure out the validity of those stories. Even the teachers looked uneasy, though they tried to hide it behind clipboards and lectures.
Me?
I absolutely loved it.
Mist crept across the cracked cobblestones, brushing against my ankles like curious fingers. A Gastly drifted past a group of students and laughed when half of them screamed. Somewhere along the walls, a Haunter's shadow peeled itself loose and slithered along the stone, grinning wide. Misdreavus perched atop a broken lamppost, watching everything with glowing, unblinking eyes.
"This is fine," I muttered. "Completely normal field trip behavior."
Ditto slid back over my shoulders just as a teacher shouted at someone who'd wandered too close to a collapsed ledge. I smirked and drifted away from the main group while everyone was distracted by warnings about ancient Aether conduits and historical significance.
That was when I saw it.
A flicker of movement different from the expected ghost type pokemon in the area. The movement was too sharp to be drifting mist, too deliberate to be a wandering Gastly.
Something small crouched near a broken wall, half-hidden by rubble. It didn't run. It watched.
It was a Charcadet.
Its flames flickered low and tight, defensive rather than aggressive. One leg was scraped, darkened by soot and dried blood. Probably caught under falling stone… or worse, chased off by something stronger.
I stopped moving careful not to startle the pokemon.
Ditto slid off my shoulders and pooled at my feet, reshaping into a soft cushion like it was reminding me to breathe.
"Hey," I whispered. "Easy. I'm not here to hurt you."
The Charcadet didn't relax, but it didn't flee either. Its eyes tracked every movement I made.
So it's Smart… at least it has that going for it.
"Great," I muttered. "Injured and suspicious. This day just keeps getting better."
Ditto stretched and hardened, forming a small, translucent shield between Charcadet and the unstable ledge behind it. A loose stone clattered down the path. The shield held.
Charcadet hissed softly, flames spiking.
I raised my hands and slowly lowered myself to sit on the ground. "Look, I get it. Humans suck. Especially around here…but I promise I'm not one of the poking-with-a-stick types."
The flames wavered.
Ditto nudged the shield forward slightly, like a silent reassurance.
Minutes passed. The kind of minutes that stretch thin, where every breath felt loud. Then Charcadet took a step forward.
Then another.
I smiled despite myself. "Good choice."
A ripple of cold air rolled through the ruins.
I felt it before I saw it, a Gastly drifting closer, grin already forming. Mischievous. Curious. Trouble.
"Oh, come on," I muttered. "Pick literally anyone else."
Ditto snapped back into jacket form in an instant. I grabbed a loose stick and swung it gently through the air not to hit, just to disrupt its path. The Gastly shreak and drifted back, annoyed more than hurt.
Charcadet didn't hesitate.
It moved fast, flames flaring brighter as it scrambled to a safer spot. When it turned back to me, its eyes were sharp, assessing.
Something had shifted.
I reached into my bag and pulled out a piece of fruit. Held it out. Didn't move.
Charcadet sniffed.
Then, cautiously, it took it.
I exhaled, realizing I'd been holding my breath. "There we go."
We stayed like that for a while—no rushing, no forcing. Ghost Pokémon lingered at a distance. Drifloon bobbed overhead. Shuppet watched from the shadows. The ruins hummed softly with unseen energy, old and alive and patient.
When the teacher's whistle finally cut through the air, Charcadet was still there.
Following me.
Ditto slid comfortably over my shoulders again, warm and familiar.
I laughed under my breath. "Well… that's new."
Charcadet's flames flickered calmly as it walked beside me, no longer hiding.
I glanced down at Ditto. "Guess we picked up another partner, huh?"
Ditto gave a quiet, unmistakable quiver in response.
For once, the field trip hadn't been a waste of time.