"Yo, Heath, got any of those... what do you call 'em, savory pancakes?" The bustling streets of Viridian City were bathed in the glow of twilight, but Heath, wrapping up his stall for the day, was happy to serve one last customer.
"Hey, Aaron, you pulling another late shift?" Heath asked with a grin, skillfully spreading batter on the griddle while chatting with his regular.
"Yeah, you know how it is. It's that time of year when rich kids come to pick up their starter Pokémon. Been swamped handling all that, haven't even had time for dinner." Aaron rubbed his hands together, blowing warm air into them.
Heath glanced enviously at the Poké Ball on Aaron's belt. It was one of the most captivating things about this world. But then, thinking of his own empty wallet, his eyes dimmed a little.
"Here's your savory pancake, Aaron! Twelve Poké Dollars!" Heath handed over the steaming dish, carefully tucking the bills Aaron gave him into his pocket.
Watching Aaron munch on the pancake while walking off, Heath packed up his stall. He had to hurry—Officer Jenny would have his head if she caught him lingering.
Pushing his little cart, Heath sighed as he watched people and their Pokémon—each one more unique than the last—pass by on the streets.
Heath was a transmigrator. Like in those cliché novels, he'd woken up one day in this strange new world. The good news? He was younger now, his body reverted to about thirteen years old. The bad news? He was an orphan.
His parents had died in a car accident, leaving nothing behind but a hefty pile of debt. To pay it off, young Heath had no choice but to start working.
Luckily, Heath had been a decent chef in his past life. With his tragic backstory and passable looks, he'd earned the sympathy of a kind Officer Jenny. After impressing her with his savory pancakes, she helped him set up a small food stall. That was four years ago.
"With today's earnings… I should finally have enough to clear my parents' debt. And I've got a hundred Poké Dollars left… enough for a basic Poké Ball." Heath sighed, staring at his nearly empty wallet.
Heath dreamed of becoming a Pokémon Trainer. Who wouldn't, in a world like this? But starter Pokémon cost thousands, far beyond his means, especially with debt weighing him down. He'd buried that dream deep in his heart.
"Quack!"
A familiar voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Heath instinctively raised his pan to shield the ingredients on his cart, then turned to the source.
There, standing proudly with a leek in its wing, was a Farfetch'd, its eyes gleaming at him.
"Farfetch'd, trying to mooch again?" Heath chuckled, shaking his head.
In his four years here, Heath had grown more mature, but his biggest win was meeting this quirky, self-seasoning Pokémon. Farfetch'd.
Farfetch'd were a tragic case in the Pokémon world. Their meat was so delicious, and the leeks they carried were top-tier ingredients, making them a culinary delicacy. They'd nearly been eaten to extinction until the Indigo League passed laws to protect them. Even so, wild Farfetch'd were rare.
In his four years of running the stall, Heath had befriended this one. It was clever, spirited, and *very* greedy. Over time, Heath figured out how to get along with it, and they'd developed a decent rapport.
"Quack! Quack!"
Farfetch'd waved its leek excitedly. This spot in Viridian City was secluded, with only Officer Jenny passing by occasionally, so Farfetch'd wasn't worried about being spotted.
"You've already mooched ten savory pancakes off me! Every time, it's 'next time, next time.' No leek, no food this time." Heath squinted at the Pokémon.
Pokémon weren't all naïve sweethearts. This Farfetch'd was a sly one, a master mooch. Once, it even tried to pass off a regular leek to fool him.
"Quack!"
Farfetch'd clutched its leek protectively, looking torn. That leek was its treasure.
But catching Heath's stern look and eyeing the cart, it swallowed hard. After tasting Heath's savory pancakes once, Farfetch'd was hooked.
"Quack…"
With a begrudging huff, Farfetch'd placed its leek on the cart. Heath nodded, satisfied, and stashed it away.
That leek was a chef's dream—top-quality in flavor and texture, like the sports car of leeks.
With the leek secured, Heath set up his cart by the roadside and started whipping up a savory pancake for Farfetch'd.
Soon, a piping-hot pancake was ready. Farfetch'd grabbed it eagerly, blowing on it before chomping down.
Heath propped his chin in his hand, watching the Pokémon's tail wag like a happy Growlithe. He smirked—this Farfetch'd was one of a kind.
"Pokémon are pretty great…" Heath murmured, patting his wallet. Debt-free at last, he felt lighter. Maybe it was time to dig up that buried dream.
Then, a thought struck him. There were three ways to get a starter Pokémon: buy one from the League, receive one as a gift, or catch one yourself.
Buying was out—too expensive. A gift? Nobody was *that* generous. But catching one…
"Hey, Farfetch'd," Heath said cautiously, "would you like to be my Pokémon?"
"?" Farfetch'd turned, confusion in its eyes.
"Would you be my Pokémon?" Heath repeated.
Farfetch'd hesitated, then shook its head.
"Unlimited savory pancakes! Plus, I've got tons of other dishes you haven't even tried!" Heath upped the ante.
Farfetch'd froze, then smacked a wing on Heath's hand, nodding enthusiastically.