That night, even after everyone had settled down, sleep refused to take me. The room was quiet—too quiet. Torchic and Lotad were curled together, gently breathing in rhythm. Wingull perched by the window with its beak tucked under its wing. Mawile slept against the wall like a loyal sentinel finally given permission to rest. Their soft sounds blended into a peaceful chorus… and yet my mind wouldn't calm.
The events of the day replayed again and again. The Shroomishes' confusion. The merchant's panic. The photograph that connected everything. And above all, the unresolved thread between Shroomish and its owner. Questions kept weaving themselves into new questions, forming a knot I couldn't untangle.
Maybe walking around would help.
I rose quietly, careful not to disturb anyone, and slid open the door with only a faint sigh of wood. Outside, the corridor was dim and smelled faintly of old timber and weathered paper—a scent belonging to places that had held memories for too long.
That was when I noticed it.
A small round silhouette sat on the balcony rail, illuminated by moonlight. A Shroomish. Its cap-like body reflected a soft silver sheen. It wasn't moving, except for the faint rise and fall of its breathing.
It was… staring at the stars.
Not just staring. Lost in them—like the sky held both the past and tomorrow.
"Pokémon can make expressions like this too, huh…" I whispered unconsciously. I approached quietly and sat beside it, legs dangling from the balcony edge.
It noticed me, but didn't flinch or turn. It simply continued gazing upward.
"Still worried about tomorrow?" I murmured. "About whether everything will turn out alright… and what he—the owner—might be like now?"
"Shroo… shroo!"The reaction was immediate, the tone lively—full of a warmth only familiar bonds could create. Even if I didn't understand the words, the emotion was clear.
I smiled slightly. "You really care about him."
A breeze swept through, carrying the scent of the forest's nighttime dew and the quiet chorus of distant Bug Pokémon.
"Listen," I continued, resting my arms on my knees. "There's no need to be tense. If he's a good person, he'll understand everything you want to tell him. And whatever happens… you'll handle it together."
Shroomish lowered its body a little, as if letting go of a tension it had been holding since I arrived.
"You should sleep. A big day is waiting for you. Think about what you want to say, then face it with your best attitude."
Worrying wouldn't change tomorrow. But meeting it with a calm heart might.
"Shroo."It nodded, gratitude in its eyes. Then it hopped off the balcony and padded down the stairs, disappearing into a side room.
I stretched my arms with a long exhale. "Alright… I should get some rest too."
The Next Morning
Dawn's first light spilled into the yard, painting everything gold. Perfect for training.
"Mawile—Fairy Wind!"
A swirl of glitter-like energy danced around Mawile, rolling outward in a gust that rustled the tall grass. Shroomish braced itself on short legs, taking the blow with a grunt.
"Shroo!"It answered with a burst of spores.
"That again… Fairy Wind! Blow them off!"
Mawile whipped up another gust. The spores scattered uselessly.
"Close in! Fire Fang!"
Mawile dashed forward, fangs blazing with heat. The attack hit—Shroomish winced, but instead of retreating, it released spores point-blank, enveloping Mawile in a yellow cloud.
"Maw… wai…"Mawile staggered. Its eyes drooped shut.
"Shroomish is learning fast," I muttered, half impressed, half troubled.
"Shroo!"It used Absorb, green tendrils latching on and restoring its strength.
"Mawile, wake up!"No luck.
Another Absorb drained more energy.
Finally—"Maw?"Mawile blinked awake.
I raised my hand. "Okay, stop there. If we continue, the result is obvious. We need to rethink our anti-spore strategy. We'll need distance… or a way to disrupt its rhythm."
"Shroo!"It nodded, eager to help solve the problem it had caused me in training.
Then—
"Shroomish!"
A voice rang from across the yard.
We turned.
A well-dressed man—luxury brand clothing, tidy hair, and familiar facial features—stood at the gate. His breath hitched when his eyes met Shroomish.
"Shroo!"Shroomish sprinted toward him.
He dropped to one knee and opened his arms. Shroomish leapt into his chest, and he embraced it tightly, trembling slightly from emotion.
I smiled faintly. "So… you're the owner of this house?"
"Yes." He looked up, warmth in his voice. "I came as soon as my schedule allowed. Work kept me away, so I sent my subordinate first."
His eyes flicked skeptically to the repaired furniture, the cleaned rooms, and finally to me.
"And… you seem to have done more than expected."
"It just happened along the way," I said.
I asked, "So what's your plan now? Move back here? Or something else?"
He hesitated, expression darkening.
"…I want to bring Shroomish and Poochyena to my new house in Rustboro City."
"Shroo?! Shroo!!"Shroomish froze, trembling.
"This house holds many memories, doesn't it?" I asked gently.
He lowered his head. "My father's illness has worsened… He can't travel anymore. That's why he left this place behind. I can't take care of the bungalow alone."
Shroomish let out a strangled sound—then bolted back inside.
"Shroomish!"We chased after it, but its small body vanished into the maze of rooms and corridors.
The man clenched his fists. "I shouldn't have said it like that. I—"
"It's alright," I said. "I'll talk to Shroomish."
He exhaled shakily. "If you can… I'll prepare a reward—"
"No need." I shook my head. "Just treat Shroomish well."
Then I remembered—the room Shroomish had entered the night before.
I followed that memory straight to the door.
I knocked. "I'm coming in, alright?"
Inside were shelves and machines—old but well-maintained Pokéblock makers. Containers of ingredients lined the walls. And on the counter—
A jar of Pokéblocks with a hand-drawn Shroomish icon.
A childish drawing. Simple, awkward, but made with affection.
"Shroomish… are you here?"
"Shroo…"It peeked from behind a table.
I crouched down. "Listen. I underestimated how special this place is to you. But your owner didn't mean to abandon it. His father's health is failing… returning became impossible for them."
"Shroo…"Its eyes quivered with emotion.
"The memories here won't disappear," I said softly. "But memories aren't tied to a place—they're tied to people. If you go with him, you'll make new ones. And if you miss this place, he can keep the house standing. You can visit whenever you want."
Shroomish trembled, then slowly… nodded.
We walked out together.
The man's shoulders sagged with relief when he saw Shroomish standing next to me, calmer than before.