Liko leaned back against the inner rock wall, still trembling a little. Her neat black short hair—rattled by the scare—had a few strands stuck to her lightly sweating forehead. Dust smudged her clothes, leaving her a bit scuffed.
Most telling was her expression. Those deep, dark eyes were blown wide, Jason's figure reflected clearly in her pupils. Her mouth hung slightly open—blank, stunned.
She hadn't expected it—the Ditto had ended up saving her.
The tight set of her shoulders loosened; her whole body softened and she slid down the wall to sit on the ground. The aftertaste of survival left her mind a little blank.
A moment later—
"Thank goodness… it turned out well," she murmured, straightening and patting her chest with lingering fear—an action that made her already unremarkable figure look even more… unremarkable.
Then, as if remembering the most important thing, she hurriedly tottered toward Jason. Her steps were still shaky, but her eyes shone bright.
"Thank you, Ditto."
She stopped before him, voice still trembling a touch. The gratitude was earnest. Without this Ditto, she had no doubt that unstable Ceruledge would have chopped her into eight pieces. She didn't know why it had only glared at her before, but the feeling of a flaming sword pointed at her… she never wanted to experience that again.
She crouched, carefully bringing her gaze level with Jason's. Expectation and a thread of anxious second-guessing pulled at her face.
"Um, excuse me," she asked softly, choosing her words, "you're that Ditto who can talk, right?"
Jason almost laughed at the mixture of hope and nerves on her face. At this point, pretending to be a normal Ditto felt pointless.
So he dropped the act.
"That's me."
A boyish voice sounded right by Liko's ear.
She jolted. The instant her guess was confirmed, her expression froze—then joy rose from her core; stars seemed to sparkle in her dark eyes. She leaned in even closer, practically pressing her face to him, giving him a thorough once-over.
"Did you know?" Liko's lips lifted into a huge smile. "I've actually been looking for you."
"Looking… for me?" Jason blinked. That famous already? Fans traveling cross-country for an IRL gank? Not a great sign. And to save someone only to find out she's your fan? What a mess.
Seeing him flustered, Liko perked up even more. She plopped down cross-legged, chin in both hands, not caring about the dust, and launched into her story.
"Here's what happened…"
She'd been visiting relatives in Zapapico over break. Introverted by nature, her favorite pastime was watching streams at home. And of all the streamers, her favorite was Gurumin—but she sometimes watched others too. One day she stumbled into a trending live—Levincia's Gym Leader, Iono. Lively style, surprising content—right up her alley. Not long ago, an unexpected guest had slid into Iono's outdoor stream.
Jason.
That stream had left a deep impression.
"I thought that Ditto was so strong—and so special!" Her eyes lit up at the memory. "From then on I was super interested in you."
A seed took root. She binge-watched Iono's VODs, trying to find more about Jason. Without a Pokémon of her own yet, she yearned harder than ever for a first partner.
"Then, coincidentally," she continued, "my mom said we'd be staying with my aunt in Zapapico for summer. I checked a map and saw Zapapico is close to Levincia—I was over the moon!"
After arriving, she refreshed Iono's updates every day. Today, she caught a surprise broadcast—near Zapapico. And she saw a familiar figure again.
"When I saw you again on stream… a very strong thought came to me," she admitted, scratching her cheek, embarrassed. "I… I wanted to see you with my own eyes."
Once born, the impulse couldn't be stopped. She decided almost immediately—told no one, slung on her bag, and slipped out alone, using background landmarks from the stream to guide her.
So a girl with zero local knowledge blundered into a war between two powerful clans.
"I was too rash," she stuck out her tongue, sheepish. "I had no idea what was going on. I'm not from Zapapico—I didn't know Armarouge and Ceruledge were fighting. I was only thinking about finding you."
She only learned about the clan war from chat—too late; she was already in East Area Three. And before she could find Jason or Iono, she ran into another Pokémon.
Iron Boulder.
Just as she thought she was done for, it stopped. It didn't hurt her—just brought her to this cave.
"And then it left me here," Liko said, gesturing around. "Iron Boulder dumped me and went off, leaving this Ceruledge to guard the entrance so I wouldn't escape. It didn't attack me—just kept pointing its swords. Super scary."
The rest, Jason knew.
He fell silent, studying the girl anew. Inside, he felt nothing—and almost wanted to laugh. Her thin face still flushed from telling the story, eyes still gleaming with excitement—and he dropped a question:
"So… you came to catch me too?"
He admitted it—this Liko was cute, and her personality, unique. But as she was, she wasn't even a newbie Trainer. Coming here solo to "catch" him? Disrespectful much? At the very least, gather her grandpa's six heroes and challenge him—that would show some formality!
Her excitement froze. A bucket of cold water. She realized how her behavior might be taken.
"No! No!"
She flailed, shaking her head like a rattle drum. She flailed too hard—lost balance, fell on her butt with a thump. She didn't even feel the pain, scrambling backward on hands and heels to open distance.
"I would never! I definitely didn't mean that!" Face red, words tripping. "I… I don't even have a Poké Ball! How could I possibly catch you!"
Her raw fluster wasn't fake; Jason believed her. One more poke and she might cry on the spot.
"Alright, I believe you," he soothed. Relief washed over her; she stopped and gulped air.
Silence settled; the air turned awkward. Liko lowered her head, clutching the hem of her shirt until her knuckles went white—summoning courage. After a while, in a voice barely louder than a mosquito's hum, she said, "I… I just… because you can talk…"
"So—I wanted to find you… and talk."
The words spent her. She snapped her head up—then down—clapped both hands over her burning face, leaving only her ears out, red as if they'd bleed.
"Ahhhh! What am I saying! So embarrassing!"
She curled up and began to wrestle herself in place. A human wanting to pour her heart out to an unknown Pokémon—didn't that sound weird?
The sudden switch stunned Gast. She floated over to orbit Liko twice, then poked Jason. "Jason," she whispered, puzzled, "why does this human feel… so strange?"
"She's not strange," Jason said, looking at the girl trying to bury herself in the floor. "She's just socially anxious—introverted—and afraid to talk to people."
Liko heard every word. The "ah-ah-ah" stopped; her hands froze mid-air. She looked up, eyes glassy with embarrassment, and fixed on Jason—bewildered.
Social anxiety. Introverted. Afraid to talk.
She'd always known her problem. So many thoughts, so much to say, so much she wanted to do—but in front of others, the words clogged in her throat. Nervous. Afraid. Worried she'd say the wrong thing. Worried what others thought. She couldn't express her real feelings in words. So she watched streams—to be a spectator in someone else's world. So she ran out alone—because facing the unknown was easier than facing people. So she'd babbled before—afraid her simple wish would be mistaken for offense.
She'd always wanted to tell someone.
But couldn't.
And now… the Ditto she'd impulsively sought—he understood. Completely.
She stared at him, and time seemed to slow. The blankness faded from her eyes. Then she smiled—not the earlier excited, curious one, nor a flustered grin. A genuine, from-the-heart smile.
As she thought—sneaking out with the bravest courage she'd ever mustered, to find the talking Ditto… was the best decision she'd made.
She hesitated, pale fingers curling and uncurling—wanting to poke his body, afraid he'd mind. Jason noticed and brushed his jelly against her cheek first. "Say whatever you want."
For a moment, he felt magnanimous enough to hug the world.
Caught, she blushed. Mustering courage, she whispered, "Um… have you always been like this?"
"Like what?" he blinked.
"I mean—you can turn into very powerful forms, but normally you're… this small."
She fussed over words, terrified to offend. Jason jerked his head up. Small?! What do you mean small! I am not— But he let it go; no malice. Instead he deflected: "Don't you think it's more comfortable this way?"
She blinked. "Whether it's perching on someone's shoulder or being held, this size is perfect. Not too heavy, not in the way," he said with lazy contentment.
She didn't know how to respond—she'd expected some mysterious line about concealed strength. Instead: easier to be carried and perched.
She snorted a laugh; the unfamiliar tension vanished. She reached a finger out and gently booped him. Cool, soft, springy—better than she'd imagined.
"Um… can I hug you?"
A pleading look. Jason rolled his eyes. So much for social anxiety—who spells 'social anxiety' like this?
"Mm," he said. "You're small too—but I'm very agreeable."
She blinked, not quite understanding his phrasing—then Jason hopped right into her arms, neatly removing the need to parse it.
Small. Cute. Indeed.
~~~
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