Chapter 5: Where the Hearth Is
Confirmation is one thing. Science is an entirely different, much more exhausting beast.
Over the next few weeks, the quiet, sterile halls of Professor Rowan's Sandgem Research Lab transformed into a war zone of data and discarded coffee cups. It turned out that announcing an eighteenth elemental type wasn't as simple as posting a "Hey, look at this!" on the Pokémon equivalent of Twitter. It involved a massive, bureaucratic mountain of cross-regional League approvals, peer-reviewed papers, and enough empirical evidence to fill a Wailord-sized library.
I sat in the lab, staring at a monitor that displayed a complex web of type matchups. Even though I knew the "Fairy Chart" by heart—how it laughed at Dragons, resisted the brawling might of Fighting-types, and crumbled under the toxic touch of Poison or the cold precision of Steel—seeing it applied to the real world was mind-blowing.
Reality, as I was quickly learning, didn't always play by the Game Boy's rules.
"You're overthinking the numbers again, Julian," Professor Rowan rumbled, walking past me with a Jigglypuff tucked under one arm like a pink, angry basketball.
"I can't help it, Professor," I said, rubbing my tired eyes. "I keep thinking about the Indigo League archives I read yesterday. Remember that Bellsprout? It used its roots as a ground wire to negate a Pikachu's Thunderbolt. Technically, it should have taken half damage, but it essentially became a Ground-type for ten seconds. If a Bellsprout can rewrite physics with its feet, how is a static chart going to hold up in the Sinnoh League?"
Rowan chuckled, a sound like grinding gravel. "That is the beauty of this world. Theoretical matchups are a foundation, but a Trainer's ingenuity is the structure built upon it. However, before we can teach Trainers how to break the rules, we must first define them."
He stopped and looked at me, his gaze sharp and curious. "Which brings me back to my recurring question. How is it that a boy who can't remember his own mother's face knows that a Clefairy—a Pokémon classified as a Normal-type for decades—is actually a Fairy-type? Or that Togepi shares this hidden essence?"
I felt a bead of sweat roll down my neck. Time for the "Spatial Rift" defense. Again.
"Honestly, Professor? It's like a reflex," I said, trying to look as innocent as a fourteen-year-old could. "Since the rift, when I look at a Pokémon, the information just... pops up. It's like my brain was hard-coded with a Pokédex during the trip. Maybe Dialga thought I needed a survival guide?"
"The power of the gods," Rowan sighed, accepting the excuse for the hundredth time. "A mystery for another decade, perhaps."
The Master of the Kitchen
"Professor! Marcus! Julian! Dinner is served! If you don't eat it now, the Oran Berry Curry is going to become Oran Berry Soup!"
I stood in the lab's small kitchenette, wearing a ruffled apron over my lab clothes. Over the last month, I'd realized two things: researchers are brilliant at science, and absolutely pathetic at staying alive. Left to their own devices, Rowan and his assistants, Marcus and Sarah, lived on a diet of instant noodles, lukewarm coffee, and pure stress.
Being a broke student in my past life had turned me into a culinary wizard out of necessity. If I could make five-star meals out of a toaster oven and a dream back then, give me fresh Sinnoh produce and I'm basically a celebrity chef.
"Delicious," Marcus moaned, shoving a spoonful of steaming, spicy curry into his mouth. "Julian, if you ever decide to quit the Trainer life, I will personally fund your restaurant. Anything is better than those cup-noodles."
"Stop eating the noodles, Professor," I said, pointing a wooden spoon at Rowan. "I found three empty containers in the trash this morning. You're the leading mind of our generation; you can't run on sodium and MSG."
Rowan actually looked sheepish as he took a bite of the curry. "The pursuit of knowledge waits for no stove, Julian. However... I must admit, your presence has made this lab feel considerably more like a home. It's been over a month now. Officer Jenny's global search came back empty. No Julian Reed in any known database."
I felt a twinge of sadness, but also a strange sense of relief. My old life was gone. My family, my friends... they were on the other side of a door that had been locked and buried. But here, with the smell of curry in the air and a Flabébé happily munching on a Pecha Berry on my shoulder, I didn't feel like a ghost. I felt alive.
"It's okay," I said quietly. "I don't think I'm from 'anywhere' anymore. Maybe I was just meant to be here."
A Gift for the Pioneer
After dinner, the lab was quiet. The assistants had gone home, and only the hum of the cooling servers remained. Rowan stood by the large window overlooking the sleepy streets of Sandgem Town.
"Julian," he called out. "Come here."
I walked over, Flabébé fluttering beside me. Rowan looked at me with a warmth I hadn't seen before.
"The announcement of the Fairy-type is going to be the biggest event in the academic world since the discovery of Steel and Dark types," he said. "As the primary discoverer, your name will be at the top of every paper. You'll be younger than Professor Elm was when he started under Oak. You'll be a prodigy. A celebrity."
"I just wanted to help Flabébé," I said, shrugging.
"And that is why you deserve this," Rowan said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wallet and a heavy, silver key.
"Officer Jenny has processed your official Sinnoh League ID and your Sandgem Residence Permit. You are no longer a 'displaced minor.' You are a citizen of this region. And since you've spent a month sleeping on a cot in my storage room..." He handed me the key. "Consider this an advance on your discovery royalties."
I stared at the key. "What is this?"
"The villa next to the lab," Rowan said, his mustache twitching with a smile. "It's been empty for a year. It's far too big for me, and I prefer living in my research quarters. It's yours, Julian. A home for you and your partner."
"Professor, I can't take a house!" I stammered, my head spinning. "That place is huge! It's got a balcony! And a garden!"
"In the eyes of the League, you have just provided a service worth millions of Poké-dollars," Rowan said, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder. "A house is a small price to pay for the future of Pokémon science. Besides, if you live next door, I know I'll get a decent dinner at least three times a week."
The Threshold
Ten minutes later, I stood in front of a beautiful, two-story stone villa. It was surrounded by a white picket fence, with rosebushes climbing the walls and a wide porch that caught the evening breeze from the ocean.
I took the key. My hand was shaking so hard I almost dropped it.
Click.
The door swung open to reveal a spacious living room. There were plush, Azumarill-blue sofas, a large fireplace, and a clock on the wall shaped like a Psyduck that ticked with a rhythmic quack-quack-quack.
I walked upstairs, my footsteps echoing on the polished wood. I found the master bedroom. It was bright and airy, with a massive bed covered in a soft, Slowpoke-patterned duvet.
I didn't even take my shoes off. I just flopped onto the bed, the sheer softness of the mattress making me feel like I was floating on a Swablu's wing. Flabébé flew off my head, hovering in the air and doing a dizzying series of loops around the room.
"We did it, Flabébé," I whispered. I could feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes—not of sadness, but of overwhelming, crushing relief. "We aren't lost anymore. We have a roof. We have a bed. We have... a home."
The little Pokémon drifted down, landing on my chest and patting my cheek with her tiny hand.
"Pei-Pei," she chirped softly, her voice filled with a quiet, certain happiness.
In my old world, I was just another face in the crowd, struggling to pay rent and wondering where my life was going. Here, I was a pioneer. I was a Trainer. And for the first time in two lives, I knew exactly where I belonged.
I looked out the window at the stars over Sandgem Town. Somewhere out there, the Sinnoh League was waiting. There were Gym Leaders to challenge, legends to uncover, and a whole world to see. But tonight, for the first time, I was going to sleep in my own bed.
"Tomorrow," I told the ceiling. "Tomorrow, we start training for real."
Flabébé curled up against my neck, her blue flower glowing faintly in the dark. We were home.