That night, after we returned home and the sea breeze finally softened into something gentle, I sat my grandparents down at the old wooden table near the back veranda.
The same table where homework had been checked, vegetables cut, arguments settled, and stories told for decades.
Grandma wiped her hands on her sari and looked at me suspiciously."You look like you're about to explain something complicated," she said.
Grandpa chuckled, lowering himself into his chair. "He always does that face before lecturing."
I smiled and reached into my bag.
"Ajji," I said gently, "I want to talk to you about Feebas."
At the mention of the name, the ugly, scarred fish peeked up from the basin of water near the wall, eyes dull but curious. She had always stayed close to Grandma, even when better water was available elsewhere.
Grandma's expression softened instantly.
"That poor thing," she said. "She's been bullied her whole life. Even other Pokémon don't look at her properly."
I nodded.
"That's exactly why I wanted to talk to you."
I activated the Pokédex app and turned the screen toward them. A detailed illustration bloomed into view—long, elegant, serpentine, scales like living glass reflecting blues, pinks, and golds.
Milotic.
Grandma leaned forward slowly.
Grandpa went very still.
"…Is that," Grandma said carefully, "what Feebas becomes?"
"Yes," I replied. "That's her evolution."
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Milotic wasn't just beautiful. She was dignified. Calm. Powerful in a way that didn't feel aggressive. The kind of presence that didn't need to roar to command respect.
"She's…" Grandma searched for the word. "Graceful."
"One of the most respected Water Pokémon," I said. "Strong enough to calm raging seas. Wise enough to stop fights before they begin."
Grandpa cleared his throat. "And how does she evolve? Stones? Fighting? Something dangerous?"
I shook my head.
"That's the important part," I said. "Feebas doesn't evolve through force."
I tapped the screen, bringing up the evolution conditions.
"Feebas evolves when her Beauty reaches a certain threshold."
They both looked at me.
"…Beauty?" Grandma repeated.
"Yes," I said. "Not looks. Care."
I explained slowly, carefully, making sure every word landed.
"In the old systems, Feebas evolved when trainers fed her Beauty-enhancing Pokéblocks—food made not just to nourish, but to improve skin condition, scale health, emotional stability, and confidence."
I pulled out a small sealed container and placed it on the table.
"These are Beauty Pokéblocks," I said. "Balanced. Gentle."
Grandma picked up the container like it was fragile glass.
"So…" she said, glancing at Feebas, "if I take care of her properly—"
"She'll evolve when she's ready," I finished. "Not before. Not because we want it. But because she feels secure, valued, and confident."
Grandma was quiet for a long time.
Then she reached down, dipped her fingers into the water, and let Feebas nuzzle them.
"All these years," she murmured, "people ignored her because she wasn't pretty."
Feebas flicked her tail weakly.
Grandma smiled softly. "That's alright. We know better."
Grandpa leaned back, arms crossed, studying the image of Milotic again.
"So no battles? No danger?"
"No," I said. "Just care. Routine. Emotional bonding. And these Pokéblocks."
I slid the container toward her.
"I'll send more from Mumbai regularly. You won't have to worry about supply."
Grandma clicked her tongue. "As if we'd let her go hungry."
I laughed quietly.
"She'll also need clean water," I added. "Consistent temperature. And patience. This evolution can take time."
"That's fine," Grandma said immediately. "I waited years for your grandfather to mature. This is easy."
Grandpa protested. "Oi—!"
She ignored him completely.
I felt something warm settle in my chest.
This wasn't just a Pokémon evolution.
This was… fitting.
Feebas—mocked, overlooked, surviving on scraps—had found the one person in the world who would never rush her, never judge her, never try to "fix" her.
Later that night, as we prepared to sleep, Grandma placed the basin closer to her bedside.
"Goodnight," she whispered to Feebas. "You'll be beautiful when you're ready. Until then, you're ours."
Feebas swirled gently in the water, scales catching the lamplight just a little differently than before.
And for the first time since the Merge—
I felt completely at peace leaving something precious behind.
_______________________________
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of a trumpet.
Not loud enough to be alarming—just loud enough to be impossible to ignore.
Cufant stood proudly outside my door, trunk raised like he'd personally taken responsibility for waking the household. The moment I opened my eyes, he let out another short, satisfied trumpet and trotted away.
I sighed, rubbed my face, and got up.
By the time I stepped outside, breakfast was already laid out. Grandpa sat on the veranda with his tea, watching the sea like it was an old rival who hadn't yet dared to act up. Grandma moved efficiently between the stove and the table, placing food down with the certainty that no one would complain.
Comfortably.
When the plates were mostly empty, I spoke.
"I'm leaving today."
Grandma didn't stop moving. Grandpa didn't look away from the horizon.
"I figured," Grandma said. "You don't sit still once you decide something."
"I'm not going back to Mumbai yet," I added. "I want to tour Konkan first."
That finally made Grandpa glance at me.
"Inspection?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Observation. I want to see what people have done right. And where things went wrong."
Grandma nodded once. "Good. If you only look for mistakes, you'll miss the answers."
After breakfast, I stepped outside and made a call.
Kabir picked up quickly.
"I need you to talk to the Colonel," I said without preamble. "Sort out guardian status for my grandfather—coastal authority, Pokémon-human integration oversight."
Kabir went silent for a moment. "You're serious."
"He's already doing the job," I replied. "The paperwork just hasn't caught up."
"…Alright," Kabir said finally. "I'll handle it."
"There's more," I continued. "Send recruits into rural areas. Villages. Coastal towns. Forest settlements."
Kabir frowned audibly. "For what exactly?"
"I want to know if there are others," I said. "People who've already bonded with powerful wild Pokémon without waiting for camps or approval."
That made him pause longer this time.
"I'll arrange it," he said slowly. "Quietly."
"Good."
I ended the call and looked once more at the house behind me.
No goodbyes were stretched out. Grandma packed food like she always did. Grandpa gave me a firm nod. Cufant followed us halfway down the path before stopping, trunk raised in farewell.
Then we left.
But not north.
We moved along the coast instead, deeper into Konkan—past fishing villages, quiet beaches, half-repaired roads, and places where Pokémon and humans already shared space without realizing how rare that was.
This wasn't a tour.
It was a reckoning.
Some places had adapted beautifully.
Others relied too much on fear.
Some enforced rules blindly.
Others had no rules at all.
I watched. I listened. I remembered.
And then—after a long time—I did something else.
I opened my livestream.
The screen lit up.
The viewer count climbed faster than I expected.
I took a breath.
"Hello everyone," I said calmly.
"It's been too long since the last time."
The chat exploded.
I smiled faintly.
"So," I continued, eyes on the road ahead, "have many of you gotten your own Pokémon yet?"