"I've thought about it—better leave Froakie here," Ron said, turning back. "Otherwise, once it wakes—" He paused, noticing Nacli and Joy waiting by the door.
"You're awake."
"Nacli?"
Abandoned Pokémon often reacted strongly to echoes of past trauma.
Ron had only taken a few steps when Froakie confirmed it wanted to stay. Now, seeing Nacli already alert, he knelt.
"You have two choices," Ron said gently. "Come with me to my farm… or I can take you to Cyllage City's Gym." He added softly, "You could wait there… in case your Trainer returns."
'If they ever do.'
He left the unspoken words unsaid. There was no need to shatter its fragile hope. Nacli was just a Pokémon—clinging to the dream of reunion was kindness enough.
"Nacli…" Nacli lowered its head.
"I'll be back tomorrow. Take your time deciding." Ron tapped Froakie's shoulder.
"Froak!" It hopped down, landing before Nacli.
It almost patted Nacli's head—then froze, remembering the salt-sting lesson.
"I'll bring some Poké Puffs when I return," Ron said, ruffling Froakie's head. He offered a hand to Nacli.
Nacli stared at Ron's palm… then nudged its cracked Poké Ball back onto the bed.
Ron didn't press further. He nodded to Joy and headed toward Santalune's center.
Once Ron vanished, Joy gave Nacli space and returned to her duties.
Froakie leaped onto the bed, nudging a Poké Bean toward the silent Nacli.
It had never been abandoned—but it remembered missing Ron. It understood loneliness. With Rattata, food and gentle pats mended sadness. Pats were off-limits now… so only treats remained.
"Nacli?" Nacli nudged the bean, asking about life with Ron.
"Froakie!" Froakie chirped brightly: Watering crops, helping harvest, resting on Ron's shoulder when work ends. Sometimes he cooks special meals, takes us around Pelican Town, visits Gus's saloon for treats…
True, the early days held quiet resentment—Why do I have to water fields while other Pokémon battle? But Froakie soon saw that Ron worked harder than any of them. And care flowed both ways: as Froakie learned Ron's rhythms, Ron learned its—slowly weaving it into family.
Nacli listened, utterly lost. Farm life was foreign to it. Its species wasn't built for labor. Historically, they'd only shared salt when humans struggled to find it. That was all.
Its own past? Mostly confined to its Poké Ball. When its Trainer's focus shifted, it was sent to a lab—where the trainer only called on it for battles or training. The rare picnics were its happiest moments: brief, sunlit hours of play.
"FROAK?!" Froakie gaped. Ron almost never uses Poké Balls! We sleep beside him. Labs? The idea of being stored away for weeks felt alien, lonely.
What else was there to say?! Come to the farm!
It reached out a paw—
"Ah—" Joy warned softly.
Froakie yanked its paw back, sheepish.
---
Meanwhile…
Nacli served little practical purpose on the farm. But taking it in cost little—and Ron had, after all, claimed its home first.
'If it chooses to follow me', Ron thought, 'we'll see if it adapts. If not… the Desert might work.'
The arid expanse mirrored Nacli's native terrain, giving it a place to roam freely.
If it could live with Rattata and Geodude, that would be ideal… though most of the farm zones will be off-limits for it. Salt residue would wither non-hardy crops.
Decision made, Ron reached Santalune's seed market.
The gifts were already packed. Now he was looking for autumn-winter seeds. Though Kalos was still in late spring, winter stock likely lingered in storage.
Pelican Town offered only Frost Melon and Fiber Seeds for winter planting. But Kalos had hardy plants able to tolerate -3°C to -4°C temperatures and flowering at spring's first thaw.
Perfect.
This would both make the first day of spring less busy and enrich the variety of crops on the farm.
Ron stepped into the bustling market, eyes scanning for resilient seeds—and hope for a new beginning.
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