Chapter 3: Pushed Past the Fence
The ceremony ended with the elder giving his long-winded blessing, a few claps, and a celebratory tune played by someone with a flute and zero sense of pitch.
After a tray of berry muffins and the usual chaos involving Mareep chewing through one of the decorative streamers, Andre stood near the back of the clearing, cradling Shinx like it was a newborn Miltank calf. The little sparkball purred in his arms, tail swishing lazily.
Mina leaned on one leg next to him, Budew peeking out of her scarf as usual.
"Still breathing, Farmer Boy?" she teased.
"Barely. If that speech went any longer, I'd have planted myself and grown roots."
"Don't tempt the elder. He once lectured a visiting biker until the guy fell asleep on his Growlithe."
Andre gave a tired grin, Shinx now curled at his feet like a coiled sparkplug.
"So," Mina said, casually munching on a muffin she pulled from nowhere—maybe she pocketed it during the chaos. Should've pocketed some too—they're good.
"Have you named your bundle of static yet? Or are you just gonna call him 'Sparks' and be done with it?"
"Haven't decided," Andre replied, watching Shinx bat at the ribbon tied to his satchel. "I was thinking something simple. Like 'Blue.'"
Mina snorted. "Very creative. Let me guess, next Pokémon's gonna be named 'Fluffy' or 'Feathers'?"
"Fluffy's taken," Andre said. "I should go check the barn. Tepig's probably trying to cook the fertilizer again."
He made it three steps before something pink and woolly blocked the way.
Flaaffy stood there like a bouncer at a saloon, tail sparking faintly, eyes fixed on Andre with the silent intensity of a doting auntie on a mission.
"…Uh-oh," Andre muttered. "That's the 'You're not going anywhere yet' stance."
From behind the woolly wall emerged Miriam, arms crossed, sunhat casting a wide shadow over her face.
"You weren't really planning to just stroll back to the farm after all this, were you?" she asked.
"Yes?" Andre offered, knowing full well it wasn't the answer she wanted.
"You're not going anywhere near that barn until you get your Trainer I.D.," she said.
He blinked. "I thought you said I didn't need to be a real trainer."
"I said you didn't need to chase gyms or leagues," she corrected. "But if you want to raise Pokémon, buy supplies, or not get stopped at every checkpoint with a suspicious Shinx, you need an official ID."
He opened his mouth to argue, then shut it. Shinx chose that moment to let out a tiny yawn, a spark popping softly from its cheek.
"Besides," Miriam continued, her voice softening, "It's time you saw more than the village fields. The world's a little bigger than compost heaps and berry patches."
Andre scratched the back of his neck. "Can't I just wait for the next supply run? That's only two weeks away. I can hitch a ride, grab the ID, be back before the Tauros finish their salt lick."
"You could," Miriam said. "But you won't. You've got legs, rations, a Pokémon, and your signature hat. What you don't have is an excuse."
"I have at least three excuses, actually—"
Miriam smiled. Never a good sign.
She reached into the satchel slung over her shoulder and pulled out a slightly bulkier version of Andre's own travel bag. It clinked with the sound of wrapped food, flint stones, and sealed water flasks.
She handed him the packed satchel. It was heavier than usual, even with the dimensional space properties of this type of bag.
"Already packed," she said. "You leave in the morning. I packed your essentials—food, maps, first-aid, spare socks. I even added three Poké Balls. Empty ones. Just in case."
Andre weighed the bag, knowing there was more packed than she let on, but chose not to comment. Instead, he asked, "…And three empty Poké Balls?"
"And three empty Poké Balls."
He looked to Mina for backup. She gave him a grin like she'd been waiting for this.
"Hey, you're the one who said you wanted a quiet life," she said. "Can't be a proper farm boy without papers."
Andre stared at the bag like it had personally betrayed him. "You planned this."
"Of course," Miriam said sweetly.
Mina leaned in, grinning ear to ear. "Aw, look at you. Little farmboy's going on a real journey. What if you find something big and scary, like a Beartic? Or worse—a cute girl?"
Andre groaned. "Can I trade my starter for something less smug?"
Shinx mewed. Mina bowed. "Denied."
Andre sighed. "Fine. But I'm at least checking if one of the old timers will loan me something to ride."
Flaaffy finally stepped aside, apparently satisfied the message had been delivered.
---
[MC POV]
My first stop was Old Man Byron. He had a motorized cart—half tractor, half miracle—that sputtered more than it drove, but it moved.
"No Trainer I.D.?" he squinted. "None? Then nope."
I worked down the list. Granny Netta had an old scooter but claimed it ran on "pure soul energy." Translation: it hadn't worked since the last Pokémon League.
I even checked with the merchant twins. They had a tandem bike and a truck—but both were already reserved for supply hauling.
The only spare bikes left were either missing a wheel or had more rust than chain.
As much as I hated to admit it, walking was the only option that didn't involve debt or being stranded in a ditch.
So I did what every mature young man did in times like this: I sulked.
---
[General POV]
By midmorning, the village had gathered at the main gate—partly out of tradition, partly out of boredom.
Andre adjusted the strap on his satchel. Shinx now rode on his shoulder, tiny sparks dancing along its fur.
Mina stood beside him with a grin too wide to be innocent. "Try not to get eaten by a Trubbish."
"I'll try not to trip over a Sentret and die of embarrassment."
Flaaffy bleated and waved a stubby paw. Miriam gave her adopted son a tight hug, then looked him up and down.
"Remember to eat. And contact us when you get to the Pokémon Center. And don't barter your socks for Poké Balls again."
"That was one time, and it was a good trade."
Tepig loomed nearby—the massive Pokémon four times the size of a normal one. Instead of a nuzzle or a headbutt, the giant hog simply lowered his massive head and let out a warm, grumbling bellow that vibrated the dirt.
Andre reached up and patted the side of his head, fingers brushing rough bristles.
"I'll be back before you burn down the barn, big guy."
The Pokémon snorted, lazily stretched, then flopped to the ground like a rug, sighing like the departure was an unnecessary drama.
He glanced back at Miriam. "You sure about this?"
"No," she said with a laugh. "But you're ready."
Andre exhaled slowly, adjusting the new satchel on his shoulder. Shinx leapt up onto his hat, then slid down to drape around his neck like a fuzzy scarf.
"Fine. One trip. I get the ID, buy some feed, and come home."
Mina smirked. "Sure. That's how it always starts."
Andre took a deep breath. The path ahead was dirt, then gravel, then whatever the wilds decided to throw his way.
It wasn't glamorous.
It wasn't heroic.
But it was his.
With one last wave, he stepped out of the village.
And so, the ordinary journey began.