The sun was warm on my green skin, a pleasant weight after days spent under the dense canopy of the forest. The dirt path crunched softly under my worn boots, a gentle rhythm marking our progress. On my shoulder, Caterpie let out a series of cheerful chirps, his little antennae twitching as he took in the wide-open world. It was a good day.
Or it would have been, if Lila wasn't in full lecture mode.
"—and that's why type advantages are crucial, Garfield," she was saying, gesturing with one hand while the other adjusted the strap of her backpack. "You can't just charge in. A Gym Leader isn't some random wild Pokémon. They have strategy. They've trained their partners to cover weaknesses, to exploit openings you don't even see."
I nodded, making what I hoped was an interested-sounding noise. "Mmm-hmm. Strategy. Got it."
In reality, I was only half-listening. Most of my attention was on the tiny green caterpillar beside my ear. He'd nuzzle his head against my cheek every few seconds, a soft, trusting gesture that made my chest feel warm. He was the whole reason I was doing this—this whole weird, wonderful, confusing Pokémon journey. My strategy was simple: keep him safe, have some fun, and if something gets in our way, turn into a T-Rex. Seemed solid enough to me.
"I'm serious," Lila insisted, her brown eyes narrowing. "When we get to Verdern City, you can't just turn into a gorilla and expect to punch your way to an Obsidian Badge. Terra's Pokémon are Rock-types. Your fists will just… bounce."
"Hey, I can be more than a gorilla," I muttered, giving Caterpie a gentle scratch under his chin. He responded with a contented little trill. "I could be a… a really big mole. Or something."
Lila sighed, the sound of a patient teacher dealing with her most willfully dense student. "That's not the… Ugh, never mind."
That's when a new sound cut through the air. Not the chirping of Pidgeys or the rustle of leaves, but a voice. A loud, gratingly confident voice that oozed arrogance.
"Well, well, what have we got here?"
We stopped. Standing in the middle of the path, blocking our way, was a kid who looked like he'd been assembled by a committee of wannabe cool guys. His hair was a gravity-defying sculpture of red spikes. He wore a ridiculously flashy jacket, all zippers and logos, and a belt lined with the polished red-and-white spheres of Pokéballs. He had a smirk plastered on his face that I instantly wanted to wipe off.
His eyes scanned me up and down, lingering on my green skin, my pointed ears, and finally, on the little guy perched on my shoulder. The smirk widened into a sneer.
"What's this? A green wannabe trainer with a worm for a partner? Ha! I've seen scarier things in my lunchbox. Even my weakest Pokémon could wipe the floor with you."
I felt Lila bristle beside me, her hand instinctively going to the Pokéball on her own belt. "Hey, back off. We're just passing through."
I put a hand on her arm, shaking my head slightly. I'd dealt with guys like this my whole life. The trick was not to let them get to you. I forced a lazy grin. "Green's a good color. Means I'm growing. And this isn't a worm, pal. He's a Caterpie. Maybe you'd know that if you spent less time on your hair."
The kid's—Derek, I decided to call him in my head, he just looked like a Derek—smirk faltered for a half-second before snapping back into place, twice as nasty.
"Oh, a comedian. Let me guess, your next trick is turning into a clown?" He took a step forward, jabbing a thumb at Caterpie. "You're wasting your time. That thing's not a partner, it's bug bait. You'd be better off using it to catch a real Pokémon."
And just like that, the lazy grin on my face evaporated. The warmth in my chest turned to a hot, coiling anger. He could insult me all day. Call me a freak, a wannabe, a clown—I'd heard it all. But nobody, nobody, talked about my little buddy like that.
Caterpie seemed to sense the shift in my mood, letting out a small, worried chirp.
I stepped forward, my eyes locked on Derek. The air grew thick and heavy. "You want to say that again?" I said, my voice low and dangerous.
Derek just laughed, a short, barking sound. "I said it's bait. B-A-I-T. You gonna cry about it, greenie?"
"No," I snapped, my hands clenching into fists. "I'm gonna battle you."
Lila sucked in a breath. "Garfield, no! You don't know what he has!"
But Derek's eyes lit up with malicious glee. "A battle? You and your worm against me? This is gonna be hilarious." He unclipped a Pokéball from his belt and enlarged it with a practiced flick of his wrist. "You're on."
He whipped his arm forward. "Rattata, let's go!"
The ball burst open in a flash of red light, and a creature materialized on the dirt path. It was a purple rat, but bigger, leaner, and a hundred times more vicious-looking than any rat I'd ever seen. Its whiskers twitched, its red eyes gleamed with nervous energy, and a pair of long, sharp incisors jutted from its mouth. It looked fast, scrappy, and mean. It looked trained.
I stepped forward, planting my feet. Caterpie clung tightly to my shoulder, his little body tense but not afraid. I could feel his trust, his readiness.
"Fine," I declared, meeting Derek's smug gaze. "You've got your rat—I've got me."
A familiar, thrilling energy surged through me. My bones began to hum, my skin to tingle. Derek's eyes widened slightly as my form started to twist and shift. My spine lengthened, forcing me onto all fours. Coarse, grey fur sprouted across my skin, my teeth sharpened into fangs, and a low growl rumbled up from a chest that was no longer my own. In seconds, I was a wolf-like beast, all muscle and teeth, with Caterpie clinging securely to the thick fur on my back.
Derek stared for a moment, then burst out laughing again, even louder this time. "You're just a cheap Ditto knock-off! Pathetic! But fine, rules are rules. Let's see what your little party trick can do."
He pointed a finger at me. "Rattata, Quick Attack! Let's go!"
The world became a purple blur. The Rattata shot forward, a streak of motion that my new wolf-eyes could barely track. I felt a sharp sting on my flank as it zipped past, faster than I could react. I spun, snarling, claws digging into the earth, but it was already circling for another pass.
Whoosh. Another sharp blow, this time to my shoulder. I swiped with my claws, a massive, powerful arc that could have torn a tree in half, but I only hit empty air. The rat was just too fast.
"He's running circles around you!" Lila shouted from the sidelines. "You need a strategy, Garfield! Brute force isn't going to work!"
I got this, I thought, the growl deepening in my chest. I just needed to land one hit. One solid connection was all it would take. I crouched lower, muscles bunched, tracking the purple blur as it prepared for another strike. I braced myself, ready to lunge—
Then I felt a shift on my back. Caterpie, my brave little friend, had had enough of watching me get smacked around. He let out a determined cry, a sharp "Cater-PIE!" that cut through the sounds of the battle.
Pushing himself up, he spat out a thick, white stream of silk. It wasn't a single strand, but a volley of sticky threads that fanned out like a net. The Rattata, mid-charge, ran right into it.
Its momentum died instantly. The blur became a frantic, twitching creature, tangled in the surprisingly strong strands. It struggled, squeaking in fury, but its movements were hampered, its incredible speed now useless.
This was my chance.
But the wolf form was a ground fighter. Heavy. Powerful. Still too slow to close the distance before Rattata tore itself free. An idea, wild and brilliant, sparked in my mind.
Air superiority.
The sensation of transformation hit me again, but this time it was different. The heavy muscle and fur receded, replaced by a feeling of impossible lightness. My powerful limbs shrank, bones hollowing out. My fur became feathers, my snout a sharp, curved beak. My wolf's howl became a hawk's piercing shriek as I shot into the sky, leaving a very confused Lila and a momentarily stunned Derek staring from below. Caterpie, a seasoned pro at this by now, just held on tight to my feathered back.
From twenty feet up, the world was a map. I could see the struggling Rattata, a purple knot in a web of white. I could see Derek's smug expression finally crack, replaced by a flicker of genuine shock. I had him.
With another cry, I folded my wings and dove.
The wind whistled past me, a high-pitched scream in my ears. The ground rushed up to meet me. My talons were extended, sharp as razors, aimed right for the trapped rat. This was it. The knockout blow. We were going to win.
Then Derek's smirk returned, colder and sharper than before.
"Not bad, freak," he called out, his voice cutting through my dive. "But a trained Pokémon knows how to handle a surprise. Rattata, Counter with Hyper Fang!"
The command was like a key in a lock. Even tangled, the Rattata responded instantly. It stopped struggling against the silk and instead coiled its body, its eyes locking onto my descending form. As I swooped in for the final strike, it lunged upwards.
Its mouth opened impossibly wide, its incisors glowing with a faint, menacing energy.
I had no time to swerve, no way to pull up. All my momentum was focused on one direction: down.
The impact was devastating.
It wasn't a slash or a scrape; it was a bone-jarring slam. The Hyper Fang caught me mid-air, a crushing force of pure power. The world spun violently, a kaleidoscope of green trees and blue sky. The hawk form shattered under the force of the blow, and I was myself again, falling, crashing into the hard-packed dirt with a sickening thud.
The air was driven from my lungs in a painful gasp. Every inch of my body screamed in protest. I lay there, panting, bruised, the taste of dust and defeat in my mouth. I tried to push myself up, but my arms trembled and gave way.
A tiny green shape wriggled frantically in the dirt beside me. Caterpie had been flung off in the crash, but he was okay. Without a moment's hesitation, he scrambled in front of me, placing his small body between me and the Rattata. He faced the trained predator, his antennae flattened back, and let out the bravest, most defiant chirp I had ever heard. A tiny warrior shielding his fallen friend.
Derek scoffed. "Game over. You lose."
He nonchalantly recalled his Rattata in another flash of red light, clipping the ball back onto his belt. He strolled over, looming above me as I struggled to sit up.
"Here's a free tip," he sneered, his shadow falling over me and Caterpie. "Come back when you've got real Pokémon. This isn't some playground for freaks and their pets."
He turned and walked away, not even bothering to look back, the sound of his smug laughter echoing down the trail until it was swallowed by the trees.
Silence descended, broken only by my ragged breathing and Caterpie's worried chirps.
Lila rushed to my side, crouching down, her expression a mixture of concern and something else… respect?
"Are you okay, Garfield?"
"Peachy," I rasped, finally managing to push myself into a sitting position. My ribs felt like they'd been used for xylophone practice.
"You lost," she said, but there was no 'I told you so' in her tone. "But… I've never seen a trainer do that. Shifting forms mid-battle? Combining your power with your Pokémon's? That… that was incredible. It was creative. Most trainers don't have an ounce of that kind of creativity."
I barely heard her. My gaze was fixed on Caterpie, who was now pressing his head against my hand, refusing to let me wallow. His unwavering belief was a physical presence, a tiny anchor in a sea of humiliation and pain. He wasn't ashamed. He wasn't disappointed. He was just there. For me.
The sting of Derek's words, the ache in my bones, the bitter taste of defeat… it all began to coalesce into something new. Something hard and hot and sharp. Not anger, not anymore.
Determination.
I gritted my teeth and gently stroked Caterpie's back. He looked up at me, his big black eyes full of trust.
"Alright, little buddy," I said, my voice low but steady, a promise whispered into the quiet afternoon. "That was our first battle. We lost. But it won't be our last."
I looked up, my eyes following the path where Derek had disappeared. The fire in my gut burned brighter.
"Next time," I vowed, clenching my fist until my knuckles turned white. "Next time—we're not gonna lose."
The sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and purple. The world was quiet, but inside me, a storm had just begun. Lila watched me, a flicker of intrigue in her eyes. Beside me, Caterpie let out a single, resolute chirp. He was ready. And so was I. The road ahead was long, but for the first time, I could see our direction clearly.