"…I'm keeping her."
"No you're not."
"She chose me."
"She met you ten seconds ago."
"That's enough time."
I exhaled quietly.
"…She prefers clean environments."
She blinked.
"…Are you saying I'm clean?"
"I'm saying you're less offensive than average."
"…Wow."
But she didn't give her back.
"…I was having a bad day," she muttered, her voice softer now as her fingers traced slowly along Mincinno's tail, clearly more focused on the Pokémon than anything else. "Now I'm not."
I watched the shift in her expression for a moment—the tension that had been sitting in her shoulders earlier had eased, replaced by something quieter. Lighter.
"…Efficient turnaround," I said, the corner of my mouth lifting slightly.
She shot me a look at that—not sharp, not quite annoyed, but close enough.
"Don't push it," she warned, though there wasn't much bite behind it this time.
Mincinno gave a soft, content sound, curling slightly deeper into her arms like she had already decided this was her new preferred spot.
"Min… Mincinno…"
That earned another reaction.
Her expression softened again almost immediately, the earlier irritation completely gone as she adjusted her grip instinctively—careful, deliberate, like she didn't want to disturb her.
"…Yeah, okay," she muttered, almost to herself this time. "You're staying right there."
I let out a quiet breath through my nose, shaking my head slightly.
"…I'm Alex," I said after a moment, shifting my weight as I reached up to adjust the brim of my black ascot hat. The movement cast a slight shadow over my face, my dark shades catching the reflection of the river behind her.
She glanced up at that—really looked this time.
Up close, the contrast was harder to ignore.
Black shirt. Fitted.
Leather jacket layered over it, worn just enough to look natural rather than styled. The sleeves creased at the elbows as I moved, the material catching light in muted tones.
Black jeans, clean lines, no excess.
Fingerless leather gloves wrapped snug around my hands.
Against the bright sky and open landscape—
It stood out.
Her gaze lingered a second longer than it needed to.
"…Alex," she repeated, like she was testing the name.
"Yeah."
She shifted slightly, still holding Mincinno, adjusting her stance as if remembering she was in the middle of a conversation.
"…Misty," she said finally, giving a small tilt of her chin—more declaration than introduction.
Then, almost immediately—
"And I'm not giving her back yet."
I let out a soft huff of amusement, folding my arms loosely.
"Wasn't expecting you to."
That seemed to settle it.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The wind picked up again.
Stronger this time.
I felt it before I saw it—the subtle shift in pressure, the weight in the air pressing down just enough to notice. The kind of change most people ignored until it was too late.
My gaze lifted toward the sky.
Still clear.
Still bright.
Still wrong.
"…Storm's coming," I said, more to the air than to her.
That got her attention.
Not immediate agreement.
Just… focus.
She watched me for a second, brows knitting slightly as she tried to figure out if I was serious or just continuing whatever this was.
"…You're not joking," she said finally.
I shook my head once.
She followed my gaze upward.
The sky hadn't changed.
Not yet.
"…It looks fine," she muttered, though there was less confidence behind it now.
"It won't," I replied simply. "Give it a minute."
She didn't argue this time.
Didn't agree either.
Just watched.
And then—
It started.
Not with rain.
With light.
The brightness dimmed just slightly, like someone had pulled a thin veil across the sun. The reflection on the river broke—not dramatically, just enough to lose its perfect mirror.
Misty noticed that.
Her posture shifted subtly, attention snapping fully to the environment now.
"…Okay," she said under her breath. "That's new."
The wind followed.
Cooler.
Sharper.
Then came the sound.
Low.
Distant.
Thunder.
Her head snapped up.
"…Oh."
"Yeah."
The sky didn't ease into it.
It flipped.
Clouds rolled in fast, thick and heavy, swallowing the blue in uneven waves. The temperature dropped just enough to send a chill through the air as the wind picked up harder, tugging at clothes, at hair, at anything not secured.
The first drop hit.
Then another.
Then the storm came down all at once.
Rain slammed against the ground in heavy sheets, loud enough to drown out everything else for a moment.
"Move," I said, already stepping into motion.
There was no hesitation this time.
She reacted immediately, clutching Mincinno closer as she grabbed her gear, moving quickly toward the shelter setup without needing to be told twice.
We worked fast.
The fabric snapped tight under the force of the wind as I anchored one side down, boots digging into the softened ground for leverage. The rain soaked through the outer layer of my jacket quickly, darkening the material but not slowing the movement.
Misty slid in under the cover first, turning immediately to shield Mincinno from the rain, her back partially to the opening as she adjusted her grip protectively.
"…Okay," she said, brushing wet strands of hair out of her face, breath slightly uneven from the sudden shift. "You win."
I ducked in a second later, shaking some of the water off my sleeve before settling just inside the shelter.
"I usually do," I replied, glancing out at the storm.
She shot me a look for that—quick, sharp—but it didn't hold long.
"…Don't get used to it."
Lightning cracked across the sky, close enough this time that the flash came before the sound.
Thunder followed immediately after.
But beneath it—
Something else.
I stilled slightly, head turning toward the tree line.
"…That's not the storm."
Misty shifted beside me, following my line of sight, her expression tightening as she tried to see through the rain.
"…Then what—"
The sound came into focus.
Wings.
A lot of them.
Chaotic.
Fast.
And then—
Movement broke through the rain.
A figure.
Running.
Ash.
Clutching Pikachu tightly against his chest.
Behind him—
A swarm.
Misty's expression snapped instantly—confusion gone, replaced by sharp, immediate alarm.
"What did he DO?!" she snapped, already shifting forward like she was about to move.
I exhaled slowly, watching the pattern of the swarm, the way they moved, the way they tracked.
"…Something incredibly stupid."
And this time—
The storm wasn't the problem.