Night draped the forest in ink-black shadows.
Only the soft crackle of the campfire and the distant calls of nocturnal Pokémon broke the silence.
Cerulean City was still a long walk away.
But… that was what a journey was.
Misty was curled up in her sleeping bag, orange hair spilling messily over her forehead, her breathing slow and even.
Brock slept solidly against a low wall of stone he'd raised, arms folded, out like a light.
Jessie and James had been laid out a little farther away under a tree, still unconscious, bandages glowing faintly white in the moonlight.
Their Pokémon had been recalled to their Poké Balls.
Those Pokémon were surprisingly loyal—they'd actually tried to resist when Brock pulled their Trainers out of the water.
But they were never going to overpower Ash's party.
Ash gave a small nod to the Onix coiled like a living rampart at the edge of camp.
Onix dipped its rocky head the barest fraction in reply.
Its stone eyes glowed faintly in the dark, like two quiet lanterns, standing guard over this tiny island of peace.
Rock- and Steel-types could outlast even turtles, not just in lifespan but in daily stamina.
Outside of battle, they could sleep for absurdly long stretches—
Or go for absurdly long stretches without sleeping at all.
Ash slipped away from the fire with Pikachu, feet moving silently over roots and pine needles as they stepped into the deeper shadows between the trees.
Moonlight filtered through layers of leaves, broken into scattered silver shards on the forest floor.
He found a small clearing, looked around carefully, and confirmed they were alone.
Then he pulled out the Poké Ball that now held Meowth, weighing it in his hand.
He was thinking through his next move.
Was this Meowth important?
At this stage, yeah—a little.
A Meowth that could speak human language made communication between Trainer and Pokémon a lot easier.
But that was about it.
Even without Meowth, Ash could generally tell what his own partners were thinking—any decent Trainer could.
Especially with Pikachu.
They might not literally share a mind—
But they were close enough to "old married couple" that one look was usually enough to guess what the other was about to do.
"Pika?" Pikachu squatted by his foot, tilting its head up with a questioning chirp.
"We need to talk, partner," Ash murmured.
He pressed the button on the Poké Ball.
Red light flashed, and Meowth appeared on the blanket of fallen leaves.
It still looked "unconscious," soaked fur clumped together with bits of grass and dirt stuck in it, pitiful and messy—nothing like the snarling menace from earlier.
Ash pulled a spray potion and a clean soft cloth from his pack, then flicked his chin at Pikachu.
He had a feeling Meowth was faking it.
Pikachu understood instantly. It planted a paw on Meowth's shoulder, tiny sparks dancing warningly at its claws.
Meowth: …
As a Pokémon, its body handled punishment way better than Jessie and James's.
If it was being honest, it was faking.
Bzzt…
Pikachu, who had clearly picked up some of Ash's bad habits, was not gentle about it.
Pikachu: You're going to pretend to be asleep right in front of me?
Pikachu: Then I'm going to zap you. Just a little~~
"Meoooow!" Meowth jolted upright, green eyes going wide as it stared in terror at the human-and-mouse duo.
It tried to bare its claws on reflex, but the dull ache in its muscles and the lingering numbness dropped it right back onto its rear.
"Wh-what do you want from me, nya?!"
Was Meowth scared?
Of course it was.
It was finally realizing something was off about these particular opponents.
This kid in front of it did not seem afraid of Team Rocket at all.
"Pika." Pikachu's expression went serious the instant Meowth showed its claws.
No way was it letting this alley cat scratch its Trainer.
Pikachu and Ash's mutual trust: ↑↑↑.
"I'm just patching you up," Ash said calmly.
He knelt and used the cloth soaked with potion to clean the small cuts and scorched patches on Meowth's body. His hands weren't exactly gentle—but they were very thorough.
"And having a little chat while I'm at it."
Exactly what he did with Meowth would depend on Meowth's attitude.
Taking it on as a full member… was complicated.
Meowth was sharp, had its own agenda, and was deeply attached to Jessie and James. Winning its genuine loyalty would be very hard.
And Ash didn't exactly need Meowth's combat power. It just didn't fit anywhere in his future battle plans.
"Ch-chat about what, nya?!" Meowth flinched, voice tight, eyes skittering away. "I'm not telling you anything, nya! Don't even dream of getting Rocket secrets out of me!"
It really was loyal.
Ash ignored the bluster and focused on his work.
His voice stayed casual, like they were talking about the weather.
"A Meowth that can speak human language is pretty rare. You must've gone through a lot to get there, huh?"
Meowth froze.
It clearly hadn't expected that question.
Its eyes flickered, and its voice came out proud—but with a raw edge of bitterness under it.
"Of course, nya!"
"I taught myself to walk on two legs! I taught myself human words!"
"I'm way better than those Meowth that can only say 'meow meow,' nya!"
It puffed out its chest on instinct—
Then immediately winced and hunched over when that tugged on its wounds.
But Ash wasn't wrong.
If this Meowth were put up for auction, it would sell for a ridiculous price.
The only reason it had stayed free this long, without ending up hunted or sold off, was the name "Team Rocket" hanging over it.
And that was exactly what had Ash hesitating.
As a commercial asset, this Meowth might actually be worth more than the Golden Gyarados.
Gyarados's appearance had just been cosmetically altered by a system item. At its core, it wasn't really any different from a red or blue Gyarados.
It just looked cooler.
As for Team Rocket being "poor"?
Not these three.
These three were walking examples of "someone up top likes you."
Normal Rockets could never repeatedly cause Giovanni trouble and still walk away with nothing worse than a fine.
Fines?
As punishment?
James's family's dog probably slept in a house worth more than years of Rocket funding.
"Yeah. It's impressive," Ash said, nodding.
His tone gave nothing away.
"You pushed your brain's language centers hard. Even altered your vocal tract a bit. But in return, your combat instincts and physical potential fell way behind."
"It's textbook over-specialization. Evolution gone down a side path."
This wasn't guesswork.
Cats weren't built for walking upright.
Or rather, they definitely weren't built for walking upright all the time.
Meowth had forced itself into that posture—
But when you rewired things that fast, your body didn't have time to fully adapt.
Put simply:
Meowth was carrying a huge debuff on its body.
At the same level, its fighting ability might only be half that of a normal Meowth.
Especially in close combat.
Going from four paws to two feet wrecked its joints and posture.
Meowth's pupils constricted sharply, like he'd just poked straight into the part it least wanted exposed.
"What do you know, nya?!" it snapped. "You think I wanted this, nya?! If it wasn't for her… if it wasn't…"
It cut itself off mid-sentence.
Its jaws snapped shut as it glared warily at Ash.
It had almost dug all the way into certain memories.
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