The town of Pallet had always been quiet, a place where time moved slowly and the air smelled of fresh grass and the sea breeze rolling in from the distant coastline. To outsiders, it might have seemed like just another sleepy town, but to those who lived here, it was home.
And for Aaron, it was where he had changed the most.
Three years had passed since he had begun studying under Professor Oak. At first, he had been unsure of what he wanted—to follow Ash's path as a Pokémon Trainer or forge something different. But now, standing at the edge of the professor's sprawling research fields, Aaron realized just how much he had grown.
He wasn't a child who simply admired Pokémon anymore. He was someone who understood them.
Rufflet, his closest companion, soared above him in lazy circles, the sunlight catching on his now fully-developed feathers. He had grown stronger—no longer the small, hesitant bird that had once been afraid to fly. His wings cut through the air effortlessly, his sharp talons glinting as he scanned the fields below.
Aaron watched him with quiet satisfaction, arms crossed over his chest. Three years of training. Three years of learning. Three years of walking his own path.
Unlike Ash, who had spent his time battling, Aaron had focused on understanding Pokémon behavior. He had assisted Oak with research projects, taken notes on wild Pokémon migration patterns, and even helped raise injured Pokémon that had been brought to the lab. He had trained Rufflet, not just in battle, but in discipline and precision.
Now, Rufflet wasn't just a friend. He was a partner.
"Aaron, over here!"
Professor Oak's voice called from across the field, pulling Aaron from his thoughts. He turned, adjusting the strap of his bag before making his way toward the lab.
The professor stood near the observation deck, a clipboard in hand, his ever-present smile warm as always.
"I was just looking over your field notes," Oak said, holding up a thick notebook filled with Aaron's detailed sketches and observations. "Your documentation of the local Butterfree migration is impressive. I daresay you have a talent for this."
Aaron scratched the back of his head. "I just wrote down what I saw."
Oak chuckled. "And that is what makes a good researcher. Observation is everything, Aaron. A strong trainer sees what's in front of them. A great trainer understands why it happens."
Aaron nodded. He had heard similar words before, but today, they felt heavier somehow.
"So," Oak continued, glancing at him with curiosity. "Have you decided what you'll do when you turn twelve?"
Aaron hesitated. He knew exactly what the professor was referring to. Ash had been talking about it non-stop—how his journey as a Pokémon Trainer would officially begin when he turned twelve next year. He was already thinking about which region to explore, which Pokémon to catch, which battles to win.
And him?
"I… don't know yet," he admitted, looking down at the ground. "I love learning about Pokémon, but I don't know if I see myself going on a journey like Ash."
Oak hummed in understanding. "Not every path has to be the same. There are many ways to make a difference in the world of Pokémon."
Aaron appreciated that answer. But deep down, he knew that sooner or later, he would have to choose.
Before he could dwell on it further, the front doors to the lab burst open. "Aaron! There you are!"
A familiar voice rang through the room, brimming with energy and impatience.
Aaron turned just in time to see Lyra Green stride inside, her brown ponytail swaying behind her, her signature red hat slightly tilted on her head.
She had been the wild card of Pallet Town ever since she had moved here three years ago.
And she had turned Aaron's life upside down.
Lyra was nothing like the quiet, thoughtful people in town. She was loud, adventurous, and completely fearless. While most kids admired Ash for his ambition, Lyra had never been interested in following someone else's path. She was carving out her own.
At first, Aaron and Lyra had been complete opposites. She was impatient, reckless, and always ready to jump into a situation without thinking. Aaron was cautious, analytical, and preferred to plan things out. They had clashed constantly in the beginning. But somewhere along the way, they had become unlikely friends.
And now, here she was, barging into the lab like she owned the place.
"I've been looking everywhere for you," Lyra huffed, placing her hands on her hips. "I just got back from Route 1, and you won't believe what I found."
Aaron raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. Another wild Pokémon that nearly knocked you over?"
Lyra scowled. "That was one time! And in my defense, that Rattata totally had an attitude problem."
Rufflet let out an amused chirp from his perch, clearly enjoying the exchange.
Lyra ignored him. "Anyway, this time it's different. There's a Pokémon near the edge of town acting weird. I figured you'd want to check it out."
Aaron exchanged a glance with Oak, who merely smiled knowingly.
"Sounds like a good opportunity for some fieldwork," Oak said, amusement lacing his voice.
Aaron sighed but grabbed his notebook. "Alright, let's go."
The walk to the outskirts of Pallet Town was quiet, save for the distant calls of wild Pokémon in the surrounding fields. The sun had begun to dip lower, casting long shadows across the dirt path.
Aaron had always liked this time of day. It was peaceful.
"So, what kind of Pokémon are we dealing with?" he asked.
Lyra shrugged. "Not sure. It looked kind of like a Meowth, but it was way bigger and a darker colour. And it didn't run when I got close—it just… stared at me."
Aaron frowned. That was unusual. Most wild Pokémon in this area avoided humans unless provoked.
Rufflet let out a quiet cry, scanning the horizon as they neared the spot Lyra had mentioned.
As they reached a clearing, Aaron immediately noticed something off. The grass was disturbed, and deep scratch marks ran along the dirt. Something had definitely been here.
Aaron crouched down, running his fingers over one of the claw marks. It was fresh.
"Whatever it was, it was here recently," he muttered.
Lyra crossed her arms. "Told you it was weird."
Before Aaron could respond, a sudden rustling in the tall grass made them both freeze.
Rufflet immediately flared his wings, his sharp gaze locking onto the movement.Aaron slowly stood, muscles tensing. Something was watching them.
And whatever it was… It wasn't afraid.
The rustling in the tall grass grew louder. Something was watching them.
Aaron's eyes flickered toward the movement, his instincts sharpening. Stay calm. Observe first.
Rufflet's talons dug into his shoulder, his body tense, ready to strike if needed. Lyra, standing beside him, had already shifted her stance slightly, fingers hovering near her belt.
Then, it stepped into the open. A Shinx.
Aaron immediately recognized the Pokémon—its deep blue fur, the black tuft at the tip of its tail, and the striking golden eyes that practically glowed in the dimming sunlight.
But this one had a distinction. A scar ran over its left eye, jagged and raw, still red as if the wound had only recently healed. Its fur was rough, uneven in some places, and its posture was low—not out of fear, but calculation. It wasn't just looking at them. It felt like it was waiting them to do something. For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Lyra whispered, "Whoa…"
That was when Shinx's fur bristled with electricity.
A low, warning growl rumbled in its throat, and before Aaron could react, a small but sharp jolt of electricity shot forward.
"Move!" Aaron shouted. Lyra barely dodged as the bolt struck the ground where she had been standing. She stumbled back, eyes wide. "Alright! Not friendly. Got it."
Rufflet screeched, flaring his wings in response, ready to attack. But Aaron quickly lifted a hand. "Wait."
Rufflet hesitated, muscles coiled, but he didn't launch forward. Shinx's golden eyes locked onto Aaron now, its body tense, but not reckless. It was still waiting, still watching.
Aaron knew that look very familiar to some of oak's Pokémon. This wasn't panic. This wasn't random aggression. It's testing us.
He lowered his hands slightly, keeping his voice calm. "We're not here to hurt you."
Shinx's tail twitched, the static in its fur crackling softly. It didn't believe him.
It took a slow step forward—then, without warning, it lunged.
A burst of speed. Claws extended. Fangs bared.
Rufflet reacted instantly, diving off Aaron's shoulder and intercepting the attack. The two Pokémon collided, tumbling across the dirt in a flurry of feathers and fur.
Shinx was relentless. Even as Rufflet flapped backward, the Electric-type dug its claws into the ground and lunged again, aiming for his exposed side.
Aaron's mind worked quickly. It's not just attacking wildly. It's aiming for weak spots.
Rufflet spun midair, barely dodging the strike, and countered with a sharp gust of wind from his wings. It wasn't a full-fledged attack—just a warning.
Shinx skidded to a stop, electricity flickering across its body. Its breath was heavy, but its stance remained low, unshaken, unfazed. Aaron watched carefully.
Shinx wasn't fighting to win.
It was fighting to prove something or test them.
That realization made Aaron's chest tighten slightly.
"Shinx…" he murmured.
The Pokémon stiffened, its ears flicking at the sound of its name.
Aaron took a slow step forward. He could feel Lyra's confused stare beside him, but he didn't stop. Shinx growled again, but this time, it didn't attack.
Aaron crouched down slightly, making himself less of a threat. "I don't know what happened to you," he said softly, "but you don't have to fight us."
Shinx's tail lashed once. Twice. Its scarred eye narrowed. For a moment, Aaron thought it might listen. But then, Shinx lunged again.
Rufflet was ready this time, wings flaring, claws extended—
But Aaron's voice cut through the air in a commanding manner. "Stop!" Both Pokémon froze.
For the first time, Shinx hesitated.
Its golden eyes locked onto Aaron's, searching, uncertain.
Aaron slowly straightened. "I don't want to fight you."
Shinx let out a low, guttural growl, but there was a flicker of doubt in its stance now.
Lyra, watching the exchange, murmured, "You think it understands you?"
Aaron wasn't sure. But he had spent enough time around Pokémon to feel the shift in the air.
Shinx's aggression wasn't just hostility. It wasn't hunger or territorial instinct.
It was defense. It had been alone for a long time. And it had learned the hard way not to trust anyone.
Aaron exhaled slowly. Then, carefully, he reached into his bag.
Shinx's fur immediately bristled again, another warning growl rising in its throat. Aaron moved slowly, deliberately. "I'm just getting something."
Lyra stiffened beside him, ready to react, but she didn't interfere. Aaron pulled out a small cloth pouch. He set it on the ground in front of him and gently untied it, revealing a handful of soft berries and a roll of bandages.
He didn't push them toward Shinx. He just… left them there.
Then he sat back on his heels. And waited.
Rufflet, still tense, remained by his side. Lyra glanced between them, uncertain.
And Shinx?It didn't move.
It just stared—at Aaron, at the supplies, at the berries. Its body was still rigid with tension, but there was something different now.
It wasn't attacking. It wasn't retreating. It was thinking.
Aaron stayed quiet. He knew trust wasn't something you forced. It was earned. And this was the first step.
For the first time since their encounter began… Shinx didn't run.And it didn't fight.
It simply watched. And that was enough. For now.
The last remnants of sunlight cast long shadows across the clearing, the air thick with the tension of an unfinished encounter. Shinx had not run.
It had not accepted the food, nor had it let its guard down. But it had stayed. And for now, that was enough.
Aaron remained crouched near the makeshift offering of berries and bandages, his heartbeat steady. He kept his posture calm, avoiding direct eye contact yet remaining attentive to every flick of Shinx's tail, every twitch of its ears. Shinx didn't move, its scarred eye fixed on Aaron's every motion, golden gaze sharp and unreadable. Aaron knew he couldn't rush this.
"I'll be back," he said finally, his voice soft, deliberate. "I don't know what happened to you, but I want to help."
Shinx didn't react. Didn't growl. Didn't snarl. Didn't attack. It just watched.
Aaron stood slowly, brushing the dirt from his pants, and nodded to Lyra. "We should head back."
Lyra hesitated, glancing at Shinx, then back at Aaron. "You think it'll still be here tomorrow?"
Aaron's lips pressed into a thoughtful line. "I don't know. But I'll find out."
Rufflet let out a quiet chirp, still cautious, but he followed Aaron's lead as they turned away from the clearing. Shinx didn't stop them. Didn't chase after them.
It simply remained where it was, standing in the tall grass as they disappeared into the trees.
And Aaron could still feel its eyes on him long after they were gone.
By the time they reached Professor Oak's lab, the sky had shifted into a deep navy, stars beginning to flicker to life above Pallet Town.
Aaron pushed open the heavy wooden door, stepping into the warm, familiar space of the laboratory. The smell of parchment, Pokémon feed, and fresh-cut grass filled the air, along with the quiet hum of equipment in the background.
Oak, ever perceptive, glanced up from a pile of notes at his desk. His eyes immediately flickered to Aaron, taking in his expression.
"You've found something," the professor observed.
Aaron nodded, moving toward the observation table where various maps and notes on local Pokémon migration were laid out. "A Shinx," he said. "One that doesn't belong here."
Oak raised an eyebrow, setting his pen down. "A Shinx? That's unusual for this area."
Aaron quickly recounted what had happened—the aggression, the battle, the scar, and most importantly, how it hadn't run.
Oak listened intently, fingers steepled beneath his chin. When Aaron finished, the professor let out a hum of thought.
"A lone Shinx with a scar over its eye," he murmured. "It doesn't sound like it's part of any known local packs. And if it's as defensive as you say, then something—or someone—must have put it in that state."
Aaron's thoughts mirrored the professor's. He had seen injured Pokémon before, but this was different. Shinx wasn't just lost or wounded. It had been through something.
Lyra, leaning against a nearby counter, crossed her arms. "So what now? If it's been abandoned or something, we can't just leave it there."
Aaron exhaled. "I'm going back tomorrow. I'll keep my distance, let it decide if it wants to trust me."
Oak gave a slow nod. "That's a safe approach."
Aaron hesitated. Then, after a pause, he asked, "Do you think it was abandoned?"
Oak didn't answer right away. Instead, he stood, moving toward a nearby shelf filled with thick research volumes. He ran a finger along the spines of the books, deep in thought.
"Not necessarily abandoned," he said finally. "But Pokémon with visible scars—especially young ones—often come from harsh pasts. Whether that means it was part of a battle, attacked by another Pokémon, or left behind by someone… that, we don't know yet."
Aaron absorbed the words, his hands tightening slightly at his sides.
He wanted to know.
And more than anything… He wanted to help
Oak turned back to face Aaron fully. "You have a sharp eye, Aaron. And a strong heart. This situation with Shinx—how you approach it—will say a lot about what kind of trainer you'll become."
Aaron frowned slightly. "Trainer?"
The professor smiled knowingly. "That reminds me," he said, moving toward his desk. He shuffled through a few papers before pulling out a small clipboard. "I received confirmation earlier today—the Starter Pokémon for new trainers will be arriving in a week or two."
Aaron's breath hitched slightly.
He had known the time was approaching, but hearing it said aloud made it feel more… real.
Aaron perked up. "Wait, already? That's sooner than I thought!"
Oak chuckled. "Indeed. Normally, trainers receive their first Pokémon around age ten, but since many of you wanted to stay in Pallet for extra training, we arranged a slightly delayed selection process."
He turned back to Aaron. "That means, if you choose to, you can officially register as a Pokémon Trainer and begin your journey."
Aaron said nothing. Because for the first time in a long while, he wasn't sure what to say.
He had spent three years under Oak, studying, researching, understanding Pokémon on a deeper level.
He had always told himself that Ash's path wasn't his.
But now?
Now, with Shinx's sharp eyes still lingering in his mind, the promise of a journey ahead, and the uncertainty of his own heart…
Aaron realized that the choice he had been avoiding for so long was finally at his doorstep. And he didn't know if he was ready.
The morning air was crisp as Aaron made his way toward Professor Oak's lab, his thoughts heavy with the weight of last night's conversation.
The reality of the Starter Pokémon arriving soon should have been at the forefront of his mind. He knew that Ash and Lyra would be excited, that this was the moment most kids had waited for their entire lives.
But Aaron's thoughts weren't on his own journey. They were on Shinx.
The scarred Electric-type had been watching him last night, just as Aaron had been watching it. The way it stood there—defensive, but not fleeing—had told Aaron everything he needed to know.
Shinx wasn't lost. It was just alone. And it had been for a long time.
Next day , When Aaron stepped into the lab, Professor Oak was already deep in conversation with a tall, broad-shouldered man dressed in forest-green gear.
The man had a sharp, experienced look about him—his deep brown eyes held the careful observation of someone who had spent years in the wilderness. His uniform bore the insignia of the Kanto Forest Rangers. At the sound of the door closing behind Aaron, both men turned.
"Ah, Aaron, just in time," Oak said with a welcoming nod. "This is Ranger Hale, one of the senior rangers in the Viridian-Pallet region."
The ranger extended a gloved hand, and Aaron shook it firmly. "Oak told me you had a run-in with a Shinx," Hale said, his voice carrying a low, confident tone. "Scar over its left eye, right?"
Aaron nodded, interest sparking in his chest. "You've seen it before?"
Hale exhaled, crossing his arms. "Not that exact one, but I've seen its kind before. It's a lone male, most probably recently driven out from its pack."
Aaron stiffened. "Driven out?"
Hale nodded. "It's part of their nature. Shinx packs are led by a single dominant Luxray, and as young males grow older, the leader will eventually drive them out. It prevents them from challenging the pack leader as they grow stronger."
Aaron's hands curled slightly. "So they just… exile them?"
Hale shook his head. "It's not exile. It's survival."
Aaron stayed silent, listening.
"When a male Shinx is driven out, it's not because they're unwanted. It's because they're meant to find their own path," Hale explained. "It's how the species works. Young males have to grow strong on their own, find a new place, maybe even form a pack of their own one day."
Aaron processed this carefully. So that's what happened.
Shinx hadn't been abandoned by a trainer. It had been pushed out by its own kind.
Suddenly, Aaron could see it clearly—the way Shinx never backed down, never showed weakness. It had been forced into the wild, into an unfamiliar world, and told to survive.
And the scar over its eye?
Aaron exhaled slowly.
It was proof of the battle that had marked its departure. Shinx had fought to stay with its pack. And it had lost.
Ranger Hale leaned against the desk, watching Aaron closely. "I don't know how long it's been out there, but if it's still alone, that means it hasn't found a place yet."
Aaron frowned. "You mean… it hasn't joined another pack?"
Hale nodded. "That's the usual pattern. Lone males will either challenge another pack leader or form their own pack. But this one? If it's staying near Pallet Town and avoiding other Pokémon, then it's still searching."
Aaron's mind clicked the pieces. Shinx had been alone this whole time, searching for something it hadn't found.
Aaron rubbed the back of his neck. "So what happens now? Should we… move it somewhere?"
Hale shook his head. "If it were sick or starving, maybe. But this Shinx isn't weak. It's a fighter."
He met Aaron's eyes. "The real question is: What are you going to do?"
Aaron tensed slightly. "Me?"
Oak chuckled from his desk. "You're the one who found it. And from what you've told me, it's already started acknowledging you—whether you realize it or not."
Aaron hesitated. Acknowledging him?
He thought back to last night—how Shinx had stood there, watching as Aaron walked away. How it hadn't run, even when it had the chance.
It hadn't trusted him. But it had accepted that he was there. And that alone meant something.
Aaron exhaled. "I think I'll keep trying."
Hale smirked. "Good answer."
Oak smiled knowingly. "Then I suggest you start soon."
That evening, Aaron made his way toward the outskirts of the forest, Rufflet soaring high above.
He wasn't going to force an interaction this time. No battles. No pressure.
Just patience.
He approached the clearing near where he had last seen Shinx, moving carefully, ensuring his presence was obvious but non-threatening.
And as he expected…
Shinx was there.
It wasn't close, but it wasn't hiding either.
It stood a few meters away, body low to the ground, eyes sharp and watchful.
Aaron set his bag down, moving slowly. "I know you don't trust me yet," he said, kneeling carefully. "That's okay."
He reached inside and pulled out two things: a bundle of berries and a small portion of healing medicine.
He set them down on a flat rock near the clearing's edge.
Then, he stood up, stepped back, and simply waited.
Shinx's ears twitched. Its tail flicked slightly. It didn't move right away, still analyzing Aaron, still thinking.
Aaron didn't push. Didn't force anything.
Instead, he took a slow step back.
Then another. Then, without turning his back on Shinx, he left.
Rufflet flapped his wings once and followed, gliding above Aaron's head.
As they disappeared into the distance, Aaron glanced over his shoulder one last time.
And what he saw made him grin.
Shinx had moved.
It was sniffing the berries. It hadn't lowered its guard. It still checked its surroundings, its ears twitching at every sound.
But it was eating.
And that—no matter how small—was a victory.
Even Rufflet gave a smirk in his own way.
Not yet, he thought.
But soon.
The sky was painted in hues of orange and purple as Aaron once again approached the outskirts of the forest. The air was still, save for the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant calls of wild Pokémon settling in for the evening.
It had been two days since he had left the second offering for Shinx. He had resisted the urge to return too soon—trust wasn't built overnight, and he knew pushing too hard could undo whatever progress he had made.
But now, standing just beyond the clearing where they had last encountered each other, Aaron felt a quiet sense of anticipation.
He wasn't sure if Shinx would be there. But he hoped it would.
Rufflet circled overhead, scanning the ground below with keen eyes. The bird Pokémon let out a quiet cry, signaling that something was moving in the brush.
Aaron crouched low, steadying his breath. He wasn't going to interfere—just observe.
Then, from the shadows, Shinx emerged.
Aaron's chest tightened slightly at the sight of it. The Electric-type moved silently, its golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. Its body was low to the ground, muscles coiled, every step calculated.
It was hunting.
Aaron's gaze followed its line of sight and spotted a wild Buneary grazing near the base of a tree. It was unaware of the predator closing in, its long ears twitching idly as it nibbled on some fallen berries.
Shinx crept closer, its movements fluid, practiced—not reckless, not rushed.
Then, in an instant—
It lunged.
A burst of movement. A flash of golden eyes. A quick, controlled pounce.
The Buneary barely had time to react before Shinx slammed into it with a low, precise Tackle, knocking it off balance.
Aaron's eyes widened slightly. That wasn't just a wild, instinctive attack.
That was trained move.
The Buneary scrambled up, letting out a startled cry before kicking off the ground with its powerful hind legs. It tried to flee, darting toward the underbrush—
But Shinx was faster.
A low growl built in its throat as it pushed off the ground in pursuit, moving in short, controlled bursts. The moment the Buneary slowed to weave through the trees—
Shinx struck again.
It leaped forward and swiped with a quick but deliberate claw strike, aiming to disrupt its prey's footing rather than deal a finishing blow. The Buneary tripped over its own feet, tumbling forward before scrambling upright and bounding away at full speed.
Shinx didn't chase.
It simply watched, panting lightly, tail flicking once in what Aaron could only describe as satisfaction.
The battle was over. Not because Shinx had failed to catch it, but because it had chosen to stop.
Aaron exhaled, slowly standing from his hiding spot. That wasn't the hunt of a desperate Pokémon looking for food.
That was practice.
Shinx was training itself.
And not just through brute force—through strategy.
Aaron watched as the small Electric-type padded back toward the clearing, muscles still tense but its expression calm. He took a careful step forward, making his presence known.
Shinx's ears flicked, but it didn't bolt.
That was progress.
Aaron hesitated, then said softly, "That was impressive."
Shinx blinked, golden eyes locking onto his. It didn't react further—didn't puff up in pride, didn't snarl at the compliment.
It just watched him.
Aaron smiled slightly, then took a slow step back.
"I'll see you around."
Then, as before, he turned and left Shinx to its solitude.
And for the first time, as he disappeared into the trees—
Shinx didn't watch him leave.
It simply went back to training.
When Aaron arrived back at Professor Oak's lab, he found himself in the middle of an ongoing conversation.
Lyra was there.
She was standing across from Oak, arms crossed, her signature red hat tilted slightly as she leaned against a desk.
"So, what's the big news?" she asked, her voice casual but curious. "You called me here for something important, right?"
Oak nodded, setting down a stack of papers. "I did. Since you've expressed interest in taking the Trainer's exam, I thought you should know—the Starter Pokémon will be arriving in a few days."
Lyra blinked. Then her eyes widened.
"Wait—seriously?"
Oak chuckled. "I take it you're excited."
Lyra grinned, pumping a fist. "Excited? I've been waiting forever for this! I was starting to think we were gonna have to wait another month."
Aaron, still standing near the entrance, let the words sink in.
In a few days… the journey would begin. He hadn't fully processed it before. Hadn't let it hit him.
But now? Now, it was real.
Before he could dwell on it further, Lyra turned toward him. "Hey, you look like you've been thinking real hard about something. What's up?"
Aaron glanced at Oak, who gave him a knowing smile, then gestured him to go on.
"I saw Shinx again," he said, stepping further into the room. "And I saw it fight."
That got their attention.
"You mean you battled it?" Lyra asked, eyes lighting up.
Aaron shook his head. "No. I mean, I saw it hunting. It was training itself."
Oak leaned forward slightly. "Describe what you saw."
Aaron did. He recounted everything—the way Shinx moved deliberately, the way it chose its attacks carefully, and the way it didn't finish the fight when it easily could have.
When he finished, Lyra let out a low whistle. "So this Shinx isn't just tough. It's smart."
Aaron nodded. "It's not a wild Pokémon that's just trying to survive. It's preparing for something."
Oak tapped his chin thoughtfully. "That lines up with what Ranger Hale told us. If this Shinx was forced out of its pack, then it makes sense that it's honing its skills. Lone males have to prove themselves strong enough to lead one day."
Aaron sat down on a nearby stool, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's still not ready to trust me. But… it's not running from me anymore."
Lyra smirked. "That's progress, at least. Better than it trying to fry you."
Aaron chuckled, shaking his head.
Oak studied him for a moment, then said, "Aaron, I have to ask—what do you plan to do if Shinx keeps acknowledging you like this?"
Aaron hesitated.
He had been careful not to think too far ahead. But now, after seeing how determined Shinx was—how much it wanted to grow stronger, how much it reminded him of himself…
"I don't know yet," he admitted. "But I think I want to find out."
Oak's expression softened. "Then keep at it. You're already making progress—whether you realize it or not."
Aaron nodded.
He wasn't sure what was going to happen next. But something told him that Shinx's journey wasn't over yet.
And maybe… Neither was his.
The air was thick with tension. The midday sun hung high, casting long shadows across the clearing where Aaron had first encountered Shinx. The Electric-type had remained distant over the past few days, never approaching, never acknowledging him directly. But it was always there, watching from the treeline, training in solitude.
Aaron didn't push it. He simply observed.
He had come to understand that Shinx was testing itself—measuring its strength, sharpening its instincts. It wasn't waiting for Aaron.
It was preparing for something.
And today, Aaron was about to see exactly what that was.
Rufflet, perched on Aaron's shoulder, let out a low chirp, signaling movement ahead.
Aaron slowed his steps, eyes scanning the field.
Then, he saw them.
Shinx was crouched low in the grass, fur bristling with barely contained tension. Across from it stood a Spearow—its beady black eyes locked onto Shinx, wings twitching with anticipation.
Aaron frowned. A Spearow?
Spearow weren't uncommon in this area, but they were known for being territorial and aggressive. If this one had engaged Shinx, it likely wasn't going to back down easily.
Shinx, however, showed no hesitation.
With a flash of golden eyes, it lunged forward. Aaron's breath caught as the battle began.
Shinx's movements were precise, just as Aaron had seen before. It weaved to the side as the Spearow dove forward, dodging its sharp beak by a hair's breadth. Then, with a burst of speed, it countered with a swift Tackle, striking the bird Pokémon in the chest and knocking it back.
The Spearow screeched in frustration, shaking out its feathers. It wasn't done yet.
It took to the sky again, flapping high before diving down, its wings cutting through the air. Shinx tensed, watching, calculating.
Then, just as the attack came— Shinx sidestepped at the last moment, forcing Spearow to crash into the dirt.
Aaron grinned slightly. It's outmaneuvering it.
But then— A second cry pierced the air.
Aaron's stomach dropped as two more Spearow suddenly emerged from the treetops, their sharp cries slicing through the silence.
Shinx's ears flattened, but it didn't back down.
The two new Spearow flanked the first, forming a tight, aggressive formation.
Rufflet tensed on Aaron's shoulder, feathers ruffling in agitation.
"This isn't a one-on-one fight anymore," Aaron murmured.
Shinx didn't seem to care. With a fierce growl, it stood its ground.
The battle shifted instantly.
Shinx barely had time to react before the first Spearow lunged forward again, this time working in sync with the others. The second Spearow dove from the side, while the third circled around to cut off Shinx's escape routes. But Shinx didn't panic.
Instead, it moved.
Aaron watched, fascinated, as Shinx maneuvered through the chaos, dodging with just enough precision to keep from getting overwhelmed. It didn't waste energy on unnecessary attacks.
It let them come to it.
The first Spearow struck from above—Shinx dodged left.
The second tried to take advantage of the movement—Shinx dipped low and countered with a quick jab of its claws.
The third tried to blindside it—Shinx rolled under its attack, avoiding a direct hit.
Aaron exhaled slowly. Shinx was keeping up.
But it wasn't winning.
Because for every counter it landed, the Spearow came back twice as fast.
Aaron could see it now—Shinx was strong, but it was still alone. And the Spearow were working together.
A realization struck Aaron. That's why it's training.
Shinx had been fighting alone for so long, it never had a real battle against a coordinated team.
And right now, it was getting a crash course in how dangerous that could be.
Aaron clenched his fists. It needed help.
Not to win. But to keep the fight fair.
His gaze flicked to Rufflet, and in that moment, the two understood each other without words.
Aaron stepped forward.
"Rufflet—go high."
Rufflet launched into the air, wings beating against the wind.
The three Spearow noticed immediately, their sharp eyes flicking toward the new presence. It was just the distraction Shinx needed.
For the first time, the wild Electric-type hesitated—not out of fear, but uncertainty.
It flicked a glance toward Aaron, tail lashing.
Aaron didn't step forward, didn't interfere.
He simply nodded.
"This is still your fight," he murmured. "I just evened the odds."
Understanding flickered across Shinx's expression. The challenge wasn't over.
But now?
Now, it had a fighting chance.
With a growl, Shinx surged forward, golden eyes burning with renewed determination.
The first Spearow lunged at it—Shinx sidestepped, countering with a powerful Tackle that sent it tumbling.
The second dove from above—Shinx rolled under the attack, swinging its tail into the Spearow's path to knock it off balance.
The third, now realizing that this wasn't going to be an easy victory, let out a sharp cry and flapped higher, watching the battle unfold.
Aaron's pulse quickened. Shinx is adapting.
It had been struggling against teamwork.
Now?
It was learning how to counter it.
The fight raged for another minute, but the shift in momentum was clear.
Shinx wasn't dominating, but it was holding its own.
The first Spearow, having taken the brunt of Shinx's counters, finally let out a frustrated cry and flapped its wings in retreat.
The second, still rattled from being knocked off balance, quickly followed.
The third hovered for a moment longer, glaring down at Shinx. It had the high ground, but the battle wasn't in its favor anymore.
After a long, tense pause— It let out a sharp screech, then turned and vanished into the trees.
The battle was over.
Shinx stood victorious. Not because it had overpowered them. But because it had held its ground.
It panted heavily, eyes still glowing with adrenaline, fur slightly singed from stray feathers and scratches.
And then, as if finally realizing Aaron was still there, it turned toward him.
Aaron held his gaze. Then, without a word, he stepped back.
He wasn't going to interfere.
Not yet. Because this wasn't the moment to act.
It was the moment to wait.
To see if Shinx would make the next move. And for now?
Shinx simply watched him.
Just like before. Just like always.
But this time… There was something different in its eyes.
Something Aaron couldn't quite name.
Yet.