Morning Rounds

Chapter Four

Morning Rounds

Gray woke because something was breathing on his face.

He knew immediately that it wasn't human, which narrowed the possibilities considerably and improved the situation.

The breathing was slow and warm, carrying the unmistakable smell of grass, dirt, and whatever had been eaten recently. Gray kept his eyes closed for another few seconds and tried to identify the culprit without moving.

Too quiet for Aggron.

Too close for Bastiodon unless part of the wall had disappeared overnight.

Not Chatot. Chatot's breathing wasn't loud enough, and Chatot would have announced himself by biting something.

Gray opened one eye.

A broad pink face occupied most of his vision.

Blissey stared down at him.

Gray stared back.

“No.”

Blissey's expression did not change.

Gray pulled the blanket higher.

“No. It's early.”

Blissey leaned closer.

He could feel her breath against his forehead now.

Gray squinted toward the clock on the bedside table.

Six twelve.

“That is not a medically reasonable hour.”

Blissey placed one hand on his shoulder.

Gray immediately recognized the maneuver.

“Don't.”

She pushed.

Gray resisted.

Not effectively.

Blissey was not particularly imposing compared with most of Gray's Pokémon, but years of caring for injured creatures had given her a terrifying certainty about what counted as negotiable.

Sleep, apparently, did not.

Gray rolled onto his back. “I went to bed before midnight.”

Blissey made a soft, questioning sound.

“Eleven forty-seven.”

Another sound.

“That counts.”

Blissey looked toward the empty dinner container on the nightstand.

Gray followed her gaze.

Chicken fried rice.

Mostly empty.

He had eaten it.

All of it, actually.

He pointed.

“Evidence.”

Blissey inspected the container like a prosecutor reviewing a suspicious document.

Gray sat up slowly.

His bedroom looked exactly as a bedroom in a house surrounded by Pokémon eventually looked.

The actual furniture had surrendered territory over time. A large padded mat occupied one corner for visiting Pokémon too big for anything resembling a conventional bed. Smaller cushions were scattered near the window and the foot of the bed. One had been claimed by Chatot, though he rarely slept there. Another belonged to Absol whenever Absol decided to come inside.

A polished section of shed Aggron armor sat on the dresser beside a stack of books. Several fossil fragments occupied the windowsill. One was technically supposed to be in Gray's office, but he had brought it home three nights ago to check something and hadn't moved it back.

The air smelled faintly of soil.

The entire house smelled faintly of soil.

Gray liked it.

Blissey patted his shoulder again.

“All right.”

He pushed the blankets away.

She brightened immediately.

“You're a tyrant.”

Blissey smiled.

Gray swung his feet onto the floor.

The instant his toes touched the rug, a shriek erupted from somewhere above him.

“GET UP!”

Gray flinched.

Chatot swooped down from the curtain rod.

Gray threw an arm over his head. “Were you there the entire time?”

“GET UP! GET UP!”

“Yes, thank you.”

Chatot landed on Gray's head.

He had developed this habit years ago.

Gray had never successfully stopped it.

“You have a shoulder.”

Chatot settled more firmly into his hair.

“Shoulder!”

“Yes. Use it.”

Chatot did not.

Blissey waddled toward the door, satisfied that her patient had been successfully extracted from bed.

Gray followed.

He slept in sweatpants and an old shirt and saw no immediate reason to change. Ranch work had a way of destroying clean clothing before breakfast anyway.

The house was quiet downstairs.

Mostly.

Something scraped in the kitchen.

Gray stopped halfway down the stairs.

Blissey stopped behind him.

Chatot leaned forward on his head.

Another scrape.

Gray sighed.

“Kangaskhan.”

Silence.

He continued downstairs.

Kangaskhan stood in front of the open refrigerator.

She had one arm inside it.

Gray leaned against the doorframe.

“You know, most thieves have the decency to be subtle.”

The elderly Kangaskhan looked over her shoulder.

Her expression contained absolutely no guilt.

A container of berries sat in one hand.

Gray folded his arms.

“Those are for Blissey.”

Kangaskhan looked at Blissey.

Blissey looked at Kangaskhan.

There was a long pause.

Kangaskhan slowly put the container back.

Gray nodded.

“See? Terrifying.”

Blissey smiled pleasantly.

Kangaskhan closed the refrigerator.

Gray opened a cabinet and took out a different container.

“I have yours.”

Kangaskhan immediately abandoned any pretense of independence.

She came over and sat heavily near the kitchen table while Gray poured dried berries and specialized feed into a large bowl.

She was old now.

Very old, by the standards of a Pokémon who had spent most of her life active.

Her movements had slowed over the last several years. She didn't battle anymore. Her joints were stiff in cold weather, and some mornings she needed medication mixed into breakfast.

She also remained perfectly capable of opening Gray's refrigerator.

Retirement had not reduced criminal intent.

Gray set the bowl down.

Kangaskhan inspected it.

Then looked at him.

“Yes, medicine too.”

She made a displeased sound.

“You are not fooling me.”

Chatot leaned down from Gray's head.

“Fooling me!”

“Quiet.”

Gray took a small tablet from a labeled bottle, crushed it between two spoons, and mixed the powder into the food.

Kangaskhan watched the process with deep betrayal.

“You know this makes walking easier.”

She looked away.

“Drama.”

Kangaskhan looked back sharply.

Gray smiled.

“There she is.”

She ate anyway.

Gray opened the back door.

Cool morning air came inside.

The ranch beyond the porch was pale beneath the early light, grass wet with dew, shadows still stretching long from the trees.

This was Gray's favorite time of day.

Before phones.

Before trainers.

Before League administrators discovered consciousness.

The ranch woke slowly.

That was better.

Bastiodon was already awake.

Of course.

The old man stood beside the front path in the exact place he'd apparently decided was his permanent post.

Gray stepped onto the porch.

“Morning.”

Bastiodon rumbled.

Gray walked down the steps barefoot.

The grass was cold.

He didn't care.

Bastiodon lowered his head as Gray approached, and Gray immediately put both hands against the broad armored shield.

“Sleep?”

A rumble.

“Good.”

Another.

“Me too.”

Blissey made a doubtful sound behind them.

Gray looked back. “Stop monitoring my conversations.”

She ignored him.

Bastiodon leaned forward.

Gray scratched along the softer skin beneath one side of his face shield, finding the place he knew the old Pokémon liked.

Bastiodon's eyes closed.

Twenty-two years created shortcuts.

Gray could tell if Bastiodon was tired from the way he stood. If something hurt from how he shifted his weight. If he wanted company by whether he remained near the house or wandered toward the rocky paddock.

This morning he seemed fine.

Good.

Gray slid one hand down Bastiodon's front leg.

“Any stiffness?”

Bastiodon shifted.

Gray felt the joint.

Normal.

He checked the opposite side.

Still normal.

“Old bastard.”

Bastiodon nudged him hard enough to make him step backward.

Gray laughed.

“Sensitive.”

Chatot flew from Gray's head onto Bastiodon's shield.

Bastiodon sighed through his nostrils.

Gray understood the feeling.

Behind them, the door opened.

Lyra stepped onto the porch carrying coffee.

Gray stared at her.

She stared back.

“You live here now?”

“No.”

“Then why are you here?”

“It is six forty-five.”

“Yes.”

“I start at seven.”

“No reasonable person starts at seven.”

“You do.”

“I live here.”

Lyra held out one of the cups.

Gray took it immediately.

“Never mind. You're welcome anytime.”

“I suspected that would work.”

Gray drank.

Coffee.

Actual coffee.

Not laboratory coffee.

He looked at her with new respect.

“Where did you get this?”

“Sandgem.”

“You left your home early enough to stop for coffee and still arrive before seven.”

“Yes.”

“Disturbing.”

Lyra drank from her own cup.

“What are you doing?”

“Rounds.”

“You have rounds?”

“I have Pokémon.”

“That isn't what I asked.”

“It mostly is.”

Gray turned toward the ranch.

“Come on.”

Lyra hesitated.

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Is this work?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Gray glanced at her.

“That sounded suspiciously enthusiastic.”

“I've spent three days organizing supply orders. I would like to see sunlight.”

“Fair.”

They started toward the far paddocks.

Blissey followed.

Bastiodon remained near the house.

Chatot remained on Bastiodon, which meant Bastiodon was now responsible for him.

Gray considered that fair.

Donphan was asleep in the equipment shed.

This was not where Donphan was supposed to sleep.

Gray discovered him after noticing the door had been pushed halfway off its lower hinge.

He stopped.

Lyra stopped beside him.

They looked inside.

Donphan had curled himself into a rough circle between two bags of mineral feed and a stack of fencing supplies.

A wheelbarrow had been pushed against the wall.

Several tools were scattered across the floor.

Gray put his hands on his hips.

“Explain.”

Donphan opened one eye.

Gray pointed at the door.

“That was attached yesterday.”

Donphan closed the eye.

Lyra took a sip of coffee.

“Strong defense.”

“Don't encourage him.”

Gray stepped inside.

Donphan had been with him long enough to understand precisely which commands were commands and which were complaints.

This was a complaint.

Therefore, Donphan ignored it.

Gray crouched beside him.

“You have a shelter.”

Donphan breathed heavily.

“A very expensive shelter.”

No response.

“It has bedding.”

Still nothing.

Gray scratched behind one ear.

Donphan's eye opened again.

“Why are you in here?”

Donphan leaned his head against Gray's shoulder.

Gray nearly fell sideways.

“All right. Emotional manipulation.”

Lyra smiled.

“He missed you.”

“I saw him yesterday.”

“You were inside most of the day.”

“That doesn't mean—”

Donphan leaned harder.

Gray braced one hand on the floor.

“Okay. Fine.”

Lyra laughed.

Gray looked over.

“You have something to say?”

“No.”

“You're making a face.”

“I am learning.”

“Dangerous.”

Gray inspected Donphan's feet while he had the opportunity.

No cracks.

No swelling.

Good.

The old Pokémon no longer battled regularly, but he remained active enough that Gray worried more about overuse than inactivity.

Gray rubbed along his shoulder.

“Come outside.”

Donphan snorted.

“There is breakfast.”

Donphan stood immediately.

Lyra raised an eyebrow.

Gray shrugged.

“Motivation is a science.”

Donphan walked past them, clipping the damaged door on the way out and making the hinge considerably worse.

Gray watched it sag.

“Marcus is going to love that.”

Lyra pulled out her tablet.

“No.”

Gray frowned.

“What?”

“I know that look.”

“What look?”

“The look where you decide not to tell Marcus.”

“I wasn't—”

“You absolutely were.”

Gray finished his coffee.

“Fine.”

She added something to the maintenance list.

Gray immediately regretted bringing her.

Marcus was already outside when they reached the main feed station.

He wore work pants, boots, and an old jacket rather than his normal laboratory clothes. A clipboard was tucked beneath one arm, though unlike Lyra's clipboards, his usually contained information Gray actually wanted.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

He was examining one of the automatic water lines.

Gray approached.

“Broken?”

“Not yet.”

“That sounds ominous.”

Marcus looked over.

“Pressure is dropping on the western line.”

“How much?”

“About twelve percent overnight.”

Gray frowned.

“Leak?”

“Probably. Either that or one of your Pokémon learned plumbing.”

Gray looked toward the rocky habitat.

Aggron stood several hundred feet away.

Gray considered this.

“Don't rule it out.”

Marcus followed his gaze.

“You're joking.”

“Mostly.”

Lyra said, “That word again.”

Marcus had been at the lab for less than a week and already seemed to understand that questions about Gray's Pokémon often had unexpectedly complicated answers.

He glanced down at Gray's bare feet.

“You know you're outside.”

Gray looked down too.

“Yes.”

“No shoes.”

“I noticed.”

“Just checking.”

Gray ignored him and looked toward the feed bins.

“Who ate already?”

“None of the permanent residents. Tessa wanted to watch the younger ones this morning before feeding.”

“Good.”

“And she wants to talk to you about the Aron group.”

“Less good.”

“She didn't sound angry.”

“That makes it more dangerous.”

Marcus smiled and returned to the water line.

Gray watched him for a moment.

“You came in early.”

“Seven.”

“It isn't seven.”

“Six fifty-eight.”

“Unacceptable.”

Marcus looked at Lyra.

She held up her coffee.

“He's already complained.”

“Good.”

Gray moved toward the feed storage.

Behind him, Marcus called, “The shed door is broken.”

Gray stopped.

Lyra smiled.

Traitor.

Gray turned.

“Donphan.”

Marcus sighed.

“I'll add it.”

“Lyra already did.”

Marcus looked genuinely impressed.

“You've trained him.”

Lyra said, “I'm trying.”

Gray walked away before this conversation became insulting.

Venusaur lived near the wooded section.

He had claimed the largest patch of morning sunlight and showed absolutely no interest in sharing.

Gray found him half-asleep beneath his canopy, flower spread wide, vines resting loosely across the grass.

Age showed differently on Venusaur than it did on Kangaskhan.

He moved slowly, yes, but his age was most obvious in the plant growth across his back. The flower was enormous, the trunk beneath it thick and textured. Moss had begun growing naturally along portions of his hide years ago.

Gray had initially worried about it.

Venusaur had objected strongly when he tried to clean it off.

So the moss stayed.

Gray approached quietly.

Venusaur opened one eye.

“Morning.”

The eye closed again.

Gray sat beside him.

Lyra remained standing.

“You're not checking him?”

“I am.”

“You're sitting.”

“Correct.”

They waited.

After a minute, Venusaur extended one vine.

It curled around Gray's waist and pulled him closer.

Gray went without resistance.

Lyra smiled.

Gray leaned against Venusaur's side.

“He gets offended if you immediately start poking him in the morning.”

“Reasonable.”

“Exactly.”

The vine loosened.

Gray ran one hand over Venusaur's hide.

Warm.

Normal.

He checked the moss.

No discoloration.

The flower smelled slightly sweeter than usual, but that was probably the morning sun.

He inspected the base of each petal, checked for fungal growth, then moved to the legs.

Venusaur tolerated this with sleepy patience.

Gray lifted one front foot.

“Good.”

Venusaur grunted.

“Your nails aren't.”

Another grunt.

“Yes, they are.”

Lyra crouched.

“Can I?”

Gray looked at Venusaur.

Venusaur looked at Lyra.

The pause lasted long enough for her to become visibly uncertain.

Then Venusaur extended one vine and gently tapped her shoulder.

Gray smiled.

“That's a yes.”

Lyra moved closer.

She ran a hand along the side of Venusaur's neck.

The old Pokémon leaned slightly into it.

Gray noticed her expression soften.

That happened around older Pokémon.

People expected them to be less impressive.

They weren't.

They were simply comfortable.

Gray opened the small pack he carried and took out a pair of heavy clippers.

Venusaur noticed.

Immediately.

His eye opened.

Gray held them up.

“Don't.”

Venusaur pulled his foot away.

“We've discussed this.”

The vines shifted.

Lyra backed up.

Gray pointed.

“Coward.”

“Those vines can lift me.”

“He won't.”

“Probably?”

“He won't.”

Venusaur curled a vine around the clippers.

Gray held on.

They remained like that.

Gray pulling one direction.

Venusaur pulling the other.

Lyra watched.

“Is this normal?”

“Yes.”

“Who usually wins?”

“Me.”

Venusaur yanked.

Gray slid several inches across the grass.

“Eventually.”

Lyra laughed.

It took ten minutes.

Two berries.

And one personal insult.

But the nails got trimmed.

Gray considered this a professional success.

Marowak was easier.

Marowak had always been easier.

The elderly Ground-type lived near the edge of the rocky paddock, where the soil remained dry and warm. Gray found him sitting beside his shelter polishing the bone club he had carried for years.

Tessa was already there.

She sat cross-legged on the ground with a small medical kit open beside her.

Marowak's left foot rested in her lap.

Gray stopped.

“He lets you do that?”

Tessa looked up.

“Apparently.”

Gray sounded offended.

“I've been trying to check that claw for four days.”

“You probably annoyed him.”

“I brought treats.”

“That isn't the same as charm.”

Gray looked at Marowak.

Marowak continued polishing his club.

“Betrayal.”

Tessa smiled.

She was the staff member Gray understood most immediately.

Not personally.

Professionally.

She spent more time watching than talking.

When she approached Pokémon, she rarely went straight toward them. She entered their space gradually, made herself available, and let them decide whether interaction happened.

Gray approved.

“How bad?”

“Minor crack. Looks old.”

“I know.”

“Then why were you trying to look at it?”

“Because minor things become major things.”

Tessa nodded.

“Fair.”

She applied a protective salve.

Marowak watched closely.

Gray crouched.

“You're going to let her do this but not me?”

Marowak looked at him.

“Yes, I know I've known you longer. That's my point.”

Tessa said, “Maybe familiarity is the problem.”

Gray looked at her.

She continued wrapping the claw.

“You know how people behave worse around family because they know you'll forgive them?”

Gray considered Marowak.

Marowak tapped the club against the ground.

“That is annoyingly plausible.”

Tessa finished.

Marowak withdrew his foot.

“Keep him out of the rough stone section for a few days.”

Gray laughed.

Tessa looked up.

“What?”

“You tell him.”

She looked at Marowak.

Marowak looked back.

Tessa tried.

“No rough stone.”

Marowak stood.

Picked up his club.

Walked directly toward the rough stone section.

Tessa stared after him.

Gray smiled.

“Welcome to the family.”

Aggron found them before they found Aggron.

Technically, his tongue found Elias first.

Gray heard the shout from across the paddock.

“No—God—stop!”

Gray and Lyra looked at each other.

Tessa closed her medical kit.

“That'll be Aggron.”

They rounded one of the shelters.

Elias stood rigidly beside a supply cart while Aggron dragged his tongue across the side of his face.

Again.

Elias had a towel around his neck.

This had not helped.

“Professor,” he said, with remarkable dignity considering the circumstances, “please control your Pokémon.”

Gray folded his arms.

“He likes you.”

“You keep saying that as if it improves the experience.”

Aggron leaned back.

Elias immediately wiped his face.

Gray approached and put both hands against Aggron's chest plate.

“Morning, handsome.”

Aggron rumbled.

His posture changed instantly.

Head higher.

Chest out.

Lyra noticed.

“You're kidding.”

Gray scratched along the armored ridge under Aggron's neck.

“Who's handsome?”

Aggron rumbled louder.

Lyra stared.

“He knows.”

“Of course he knows.”

“He's vain.”

“He's beautiful.”

Aggron made a pleased sound.

Elias dried his glasses.

“I think you created this problem.”

“Nonsense.”

Gray stepped around Aggron and inspected his armor.

Aggron had hatched from one of the two Eggs left by Gray's parents.

Aron then.

Tiny.

Ridiculous.

Mostly head.

He had grown into a creature large enough to damage a vehicle by leaning on it.

Gray loved him desperately.

“Turn.”

Aggron turned.

Gray checked along his flank.

There were several new scratches.

Minor.

Probably from the rocky enclosure.

He ran one hand over them.

“No cracks.”

Aggron twisted his head and attempted to lick him.

Gray ducked.

“No.”

Aggron followed.

“No.”

The tongue came closer.

Gray put one hand against his snout.

“We've discussed boundaries.”

Aggron licked his palm.

Gray sighed.

Lyra was laughing.

Elias had stopped looking sympathetic.

Tessa said, “Maybe familiarity is the problem.”

“Shut up.”

Aggron rumbled happily.

Gray took a mineral brush from the supply cart.

Aggron noticed immediately.

He lowered himself.

Gray smiled.

“There.”

This was a ritual.

Aggron loved being brushed.

Not because he needed it in quite the same way furred Pokémon did. His armor benefited from cleaning around the joints, especially after time in dust or mud, but Gray suspected most of the appeal was attention.

He started at the shoulders.

Aggron's eyes closed.

Gray worked the brush slowly along the armor plates, knocking dried soil from the seams.

Elias watched.

“He looks like he's going to fall asleep.”

“He might.”

“You'd think something that large would have more dignity.”

Gray looked over.

“You carry a towel specifically because he licks you.”

Elias considered this.

“Fair.”

Gray moved along Aggron's side.

Beneath all that armor were places that required real care.

Joint edges.

Old scar tissue.

Areas that could trap grit.

Gray checked each one automatically.

Aggron trusted him completely.

That still mattered.

It always would.

When Gray finished one side, Aggron rolled slightly.

The ground shook.

Lyra stepped back.

Gray continued brushing.

“Drama queen.”

Aggron stretched.

Gray smiled.

“Yeah, yeah. Handsome.”

A pleased rumble.

Elias looked at Lyra.

“Does he do this with all of them?”

Lyra said, “I've been here a week.”

Tessa answered instead.

“Yes.”

Gray looked up.

“You've been observing me?”

“It's my job.”

“Disturbing.”

“Keep brushing.”

Gray did.

Aerodactyl refused breakfast.

This was less concerning than it sounded.

Aerodactyl refused most things on principle before accepting them ten minutes later.

Gray found him on the elevated platform at the far end of the ranch, wings partly spread beneath the sun.

His habitat had been the most difficult to arrange.

Aerodactyl needed vertical space.

Not merely room to fly.

Height.

Places to launch.

Places to land.

The League had originally suggested keeping him in a reinforced flying enclosure.

Gray had informed them that Aerodactyl had lived free-range with him for fourteen years and would interpret a cage as an act of war.

They had compromised.

The ranch now included a tall launch tower and a protected open-air flight zone stretching beyond the eastern boundary.

Aerodactyl watched Gray approach.

Gray held up breakfast.

A chunk of prepared meat.

Aerodactyl turned his head away.

“Don't start.”

No response.

“You ate this yesterday.”

Aerodactyl looked farther away.

Gray climbed onto the lower platform.

Lyra remained below.

“You're not going up there barefoot.”

Gray looked down at his feet.

He had forgotten.

“Huh.”

“Gray.”

Aerodactyl screeched.

Gray looked up.

“Don't agree with her.”

Another screech.

He climbed anyway.

Lyra swore.

Gray smiled.

“Progress.”

When he reached the upper platform, Aerodactyl snapped his jaws.

Not at Gray.

Near Gray.

Important distinction.

Gray held the food farther away.

“Done?”

Aerodactyl growled.

“You're thirty feet up. I brought this here. Show gratitude.”

Aerodactyl turned his back.

Gray sat down.

Fine.

They could do this.

The morning wind moved across the platform.

From up here, most of the ranch was visible.

Pond.

Paddocks.

House.

Laboratory.

Staff moving between buildings.

Gray liked the view.

Aerodactyl eventually looked over his shoulder.

Gray ignored him.

Another minute passed.

Aerodactyl shuffled closer.

Gray continued looking at the horizon.

The long snout appeared beside him.

Gray held out the food.

Aerodactyl took it.

“Asshole.”

The Pokémon swallowed.

Then nudged Gray hard in the shoulder.

Gray nearly tipped sideways.

“Affectionate asshole.”

Aerodactyl lowered his head.

Gray ran both hands along the base of one horn.

The skin there was rough.

Healthy.

He checked the jaw.

Teeth.

Wing joints.

Aerodactyl tolerated this until Gray reached the right wing.

Then he jerked away.

Gray froze.

“Again.”

Aerodactyl stared.

Gray reached.

The wing moved back.

Gray's expression changed.

“Don't bullshit me.”

Aerodactyl growled.

Gray waited.

Eventually the wing lowered.

He touched the joint.

Warm.

Maybe slightly more than normal.

Gray frowned.

Lyra called from below, “Problem?”

“Maybe.”

That brought her attention immediately.

Gray moved the wing carefully.

Aerodactyl growled again, softer.

“Strain.”

Probably.

Gray inspected more thoroughly.

No swelling.

No obvious damage.

Good.

“When did you do this?”

Aerodactyl looked away.

“Useful.”

Gray thought back.

Aerodactyl had been flying yesterday evening.

Fast.

Probably too fast.

He was older now too.

Fourteen wasn't ancient for the species, at least based on the limited modern data available, but age wasn't the only factor.

Aerodactyl flew like every trip was an argument with gravity.

Gray scratched his jaw.

“No flying today.”

Aerodactyl immediately shrieked.

“No.”

Another screech.

“No.”

The wings spread.

Gray pointed.

“Absolutely not.”

Aerodactyl snapped his jaws.

Gray did not move.

They stared at each other.

Lyra called, “Are you arguing with him?”

“Yes.”

“Winning?”

“No.”

Aerodactyl growled.

Gray put one hand against his snout.

“You rest today. Blissey checks it. If it's fine tomorrow, you fly.”

Aerodactyl tried to pull away.

Gray kept his hand there.

“I'm not asking.”

The old aggression flashed for half a second.

Then disappeared.

Aerodactyl lowered his head.

Gray leaned his forehead against the ridge above his nose.

“Dick.”

Aerodactyl nudged him.

Gray smiled.

“Love you too.”

Absol appeared at lunchtime.

This was typical.

Absol had never cared much for routines imposed by humans.

He had routines.

They were simply his.

Gray had met him in Johto sixteen years earlier while half a town chased him through the streets.

Bad omen.

Disaster Pokémon.

Something terrible was going to happen.

Gray had been sixteen and already tired of people mistaking correlation for causation.

He'd followed Absol instead.

There had been a landslide two hours later.

The town had blamed Absol for that too.

Gray had called them idiots.

Things progressed naturally from there.

Now Absol emerged from the wooded section while Gray sat on the porch eating a bowl of reheated chicken fried rice.

Lyra was beside him with a sandwich.

Mira had joined them after finishing a sample run and was currently trying to convince Chatot to give back her pencil.

“Give it.”

Chatot hopped farther down the railing.

“Mine!”

Gray looked up.

“That one is new.”

Mira pointed accusingly at him.

“He learned it from somebody.”

“Not me.”

Chatot held the pencil proudly.

“Mine!”

Lyra said, “Probably Elias.”

Gray nodded.

“Blame Elias.”

Mira lunged.

Chatot flew onto the roof.

She stared upward.

“I hate that bird.”

Gray ate another bite.

“No, you don't.”

“I have known him for five days.”

“Exactly.”

Absol walked up the porch steps.

Gray immediately shifted his bowl out of reach.

Absol stopped beside him.

Gray scratched behind one ear.

“There you are.”

Absol leaned into his hand.

Mira forgot the pencil.

“Oh.”

Gray looked at her.

“What?”

“He's beautiful.”

Absol heard.

Of course he heard.

His posture changed almost imperceptibly.

Gray smiled.

“Don't encourage him.”

Mira crouched slowly.

“Can I?”

Gray looked at Absol.

Absol looked at Mira.

Then approached.

Mira held out her hand.

Absol sniffed it.

Allowed one touch.

Then moved away.

Mira smiled.

“He's cautious.”

“He has standards.”

Lyra asked, “Is he the one people chased out of town?”

Gray glanced at her.

“You read the files?”

“I read your team records.”

“Nosy.”

“That is literally my job.”

Absol sat beside Gray.

Gray broke off a small piece of plain chicken from his lunch.

Absol took it delicately.

Mira said, “You know feeding him from your plate encourages begging.”

“He doesn't beg.”

Absol looked at Gray's bowl.

Gray gave him another piece.

Mira stared.

Gray shrugged.

“He requests.”

“That is begging with academic vocabulary.”

Gray slowly looked at Lyra.

Lyra smiled.

“You created this.”

“Terrible influence.”

Absol rested his chin on Gray's knee.

Gray gave him one more piece.

No one commented.

Smart staff.

Cradily required patience.

Cradily always required patience.

He lived near the shallow wetland portion of the rocky enclosure, where stone gave way to damp soil and low water.

Quiet Pokémon often got mistaken for easy Pokémon.

Cradily was not easy.

He was simply subtle.

Gray approached with Marcus in the afternoon.

Marcus had finally located the leak in the water line and was dirty to the elbows.

“Small crack under the western junction,” he said as they walked.

“Easy fix?”

“Probably.”

“Cost?”

“Not much.”

“Good.”

Marcus glanced sideways.

“You look relieved.”

“I have funding.”

“You asked for forty million.”

“And therefore must protect what little wealth remains.”

Marcus laughed.

They reached the water.

Cradily was nowhere visible.

Gray stopped.

Marcus scanned the habitat.

“Where is he?”

“Here.”

“Where?”

Gray pointed vaguely.

Marcus looked.

Nothing.

Gray waited.

A vine moved near one of the stones.

Then stopped.

Marcus leaned forward.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Cradily slowly emerged from behind what had looked exactly like part of the environment.

His body coloration blended against rock, algae, and shallow water disturbingly well.

Marcus smiled.

“That is impressive.”

“He knows.”

Cradily's tentacles shifted.

Gray stepped into the shallow water.

Cold seeped immediately between his toes.

He still wasn't wearing shoes.

At this point it had become intentional through stubbornness.

Cradily moved closer.

Gray scratched along his neck.

“How are we?”

Cradily remained still.

Gray inspected the tentacles.

One had a small nick.

Fresh.

“Caught something?”

Cradily curled the tentacle away.

Gray reached again.

Cradily moved it behind his body.

Marcus said, “He's hiding it.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because he thinks if I can't see injuries they don't exist.”

Marcus looked at Gray.

Gray looked back.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“That face means something.”

Marcus smiled. “Just noticing similarities.”

Gray frowned.

Cradily shifted.

“Traitor.”

It took several minutes to get a proper look.

Minor scrape.

Nothing serious.

Gray cleaned it.

Cradily responded by wrapping two tentacles around his torso.

Marcus tensed.

Gray didn't.

“It's fine.”

Cradily pulled Gray closer.

Gray's feet slid in the mud.

“Mostly.”

Another tentacle wrapped around one leg.

Marcus started laughing.

“This is normal?”

“Yes.”

Cradily slowly lowered Gray until he was sitting in the shallow water.

Gray stared at the Pokémon.

His sweatpants were soaked.

Marcus was now openly laughing.

Gray sighed.

“Very funny.”

Cradily's tentacles loosened.

Gray remained seated.

No point getting up immediately.

He scratched along the Pokémon's side.

Cradily leaned closer.

Quiet.

Tricky.

Affectionate in a way that frequently resulted in mud.

Gray could live with that.

Blissey found Aerodactyl's wing strain exactly when Gray expected her to.

She was unhappy.

Not with Aerodactyl.

With Gray.

This made no sense.

“I found it.”

Blissey made an annoyed sound.

“I told you.”

Another.

“Yes, immediately.”

Blissey pointed toward Aerodactyl.

Then toward Gray.

Gray frowned.

“What?”

Tessa, standing nearby, translated without being asked.

“She thinks you should have noticed earlier.”

Gray looked at her.

“You do not speak Blissey.”

“No, but I'm fluent in disappointed caretaker.”

Blissey nodded vigorously.

Gray pointed.

“Stop forming alliances.”

Tessa smiled.

Aerodactyl lay beneath the shade of the flight platform with one wing extended.

Blissey pressed gently along the joint.

Aerodactyl growled.

Blissey looked at him.

The growl stopped.

Gray crossed his arms.

“Terrifyingly caring.”

Tessa glanced at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Blissey finished.

No major injury.

Rest.

Anti-inflammatory treatment.

Limited flight for several days.

Aerodactyl looked personally betrayed.

Gray crouched beside his head.

“You'll survive.”

Aerodactyl growled softly.

“I know. Terrible.”

Blissey handed Gray the medication.

He looked at it.

Then at Aerodactyl.

Aerodactyl looked at him.

Gray smiled.

“You can do this willingly.”

Aerodactyl closed his jaws.

“Or we can embarrass both of us.”

The jaws remained closed.

Gray sighed.

“Tessa?”

She stepped back.

“No.”

“Coward.”

“Your Pokémon.”

“Staff.”

“Breeder.”

“Relevant skill set.”

“Not getting bitten by Aerodactyl is also a relevant skill set.”

Fair.

Gray sat beside Aerodactyl.

Eventually, after approximately five minutes of negotiation and one threat to mix the medication into food like a child, Aerodactyl swallowed it.

Gray scratched under his jaw.

“See? Dignity preserved.”

Aerodactyl snapped his teeth an inch from Gray's hand.

Gray pulled back.

“Mostly.”

The pond came last.

This was strategic.

Pond work rarely ended dry.

By late afternoon, everyone except Elias had drifted toward it.

Gray stood on the dock wearing old shorts now, having finally accepted that his sweatpants had been ruined by Cradily.

Lyra sat on a nearby bench with her tablet.

Marcus was checking the filtration system.

Mira had volunteered to record weights and feeding behavior.

Tessa stood ankle-deep in the shallows, apparently fearless.

Elias remained well away from the water.

Gray noticed.

“You're not helping?”

“I've read the notes.”

“And?”

“One of these fish knocked out a Gyarados.”

“Allegedly.”

“You wrote it.”

“That does not make it less alleged.”

Elias pointed toward the pond.

“Which one?”

Gray looked.

Several Magikarp drifted near the surface.

“Seventeen.”

“Which is Seventeen?”

Gray smiled.

“You'll know.”

Elias did not find that reassuring.

The six Gyarados were easier.

Large.

Obvious.

Hungry.

Gray checked them first.

He walked along the dock, tossing measured portions of feed toward each one.

The first surfaced gently.

The second created a wave.

The third tried to take the feeding bucket.

Gray pulled it back.

“No.”

The Gyarados stared.

“This is not communal property.”

The mouth opened.

Gray pointed.

“You already ate.”

The mouth closed.

Mira said, “They actually listen to you.”

“Usually.”

The fourth Gyarados surfaced beside the dock and lowered his head.

Gray crouched.

He ran both hands along the scales near the jawline.

Healthy.

No lesions.

Teeth good.

Eyes clear.

The enormous Pokémon leaned into his touch.

Mira smiled.

“People really misunderstand them.”

Gray looked over.

“Gyarados?”

“Yeah. They have this reputation.”

“Because they can destroy buildings.”

“That doesn't mean they want to.”

“Exactly.”

The Gyarados made a low sound.

Gray scratched beneath his jaw.

“Big baby.”

The tail moved.

Water hit the dock.

Gray was soaked instantly.

He closed his eyes.

Mira laughed.

“Baby?”

Gray wiped water from his face.

“Affectionate violence.”

The remaining two Gyarados got their checks.

Then came the Magikarp.

This took longer.

Partly because there were thirty-one.

Partly because Magikarp had no interest in making anything convenient.

Gray entered the water.

It reached his waist near the feeding platform.

Several Magikarp approached immediately.

Number Seven bumped his hand.

Gray scratched along the scales.

Number Eleven circled his legs.

Number Twenty-Four was attacking sunlight reflected on the water.

Normal.

Good.

Gray checked mouths.

Fins.

Scales.

Weight.

Swimming behavior.

The two unexplained Magikarp were healthy.

Annoyingly healthy.

Mira recorded numbers from shore.

“Twelve is up half a kilo.”

“Good.”

“Twenty is down slightly.”

“Check again tomorrow.”

“Twenty-four keeps moving.”

“He does that.”

“How do you weigh him?”

“Patience.”

Number Twenty-Four launched himself at a patch of light.

Mira watched.

“Lots of patience.”

“Exactly.”

Tessa had waded deeper.

Several Magikarp gathered around her.

Gray looked.

“Careful.”

“With?”

Gray scanned the water.

“Seventeen.”

Tessa smiled.

“I think I can handle a Magikarp.”

Gray's expression became serious.

“That is how he gets you.”

Elias called from shore, “I believe him.”

Tessa rolled her eyes.

Then something struck the back of her knee.

Hard.

She yelped.

Gray immediately started laughing.

Tessa spun around.

Number Seventeen broke the surface.

Splash.

Gone.

Tessa stared.

Gray pointed.

“I told you.”

“You trained him to do that.”

“I absolutely did not.”

Number Seventeen surfaced again.

He hit Tessa with another splash.

She lunged.

He escaped.

Marcus was laughing from beside the filtration unit.

Mira had stopped recording because she couldn't see through tears.

Lyra had put the tablet down.

Even Elias had come closer.

Tessa stood waist-deep in the pond.

“Come here, you little bastard.”

Number Seventeen circled.

Gray wiped his eyes.

“Now you're speaking his language.”

Tessa lunged again.

Missed.

Seventeen launched himself out of the water.

Somehow.

Gray watched the trajectory.

“Oh, no.”

The Magikarp struck Elias directly in the chest.

Elias stumbled backward and landed on the grass.

Silence.

Number Seventeen flopped once.

Twice.

Gray moved quickly.

He scooped the Magikarp up.

Seventeen immediately slapped him in the face with his tail.

Gray closed his eyes.

Everyone lost it.

Even Lyra.

Gray held the fish away from his body.

“You are the worst animal I have ever owned.”

Magikarp.

Blank expression.

Gray looked at Elias.

“You alive?”

Elias remained on his back.

“I hate your ranch.”

“No, you don't.”

“I hate that fish.”

“That is acceptable.”

Gray returned Seventeen to the water.

He immediately disappeared.

Tessa came out of the pond.

“I take back everything.”

Gray smiled.

“Growth.”

“What is wrong with him?”

“We don't know.”

“That is your answer for everything.”

“Only the things we don't know.”

She threw a towel at him.

The final round belonged to Bastiodon.

It always did.

By sunset, the others had dispersed.

Marcus went home after confirming the water line repair would hold overnight.

Mira left with three pages of pond observations and a personal grudge against Number Twenty-Four's inability to remain still on a scale.

Tessa checked Marowak's foot one last time, then departed after making Gray promise not to let him climb the rough ridge.

Gray did not promise.

He said he would try.

There was a difference.

Elias left with grass stains across his back from the Magikarp incident.

Lyra stayed.

Of course.

She sat on the porch steps while Gray carried a bowl of feed toward Bastiodon.

The old Pokémon had remained near the house most of the afternoon.

Gray set the bowl down.

Bastiodon ate slowly.

Gray sat beside him.

His body hurt pleasantly.

Not injured.

Used.

There was a difference.

He smelled like pond water, dirt, Pokémon, and Aggron saliva.

His hair had dried badly.

One knee was muddy.

There was a small scratch on his forearm he didn't remember acquiring.

Good day.

Lyra leaned back against the porch railing.

“You do this every day?”

“Parts of it.”

“All of it?”

“Not always.”

Gray scratched Bastiodon's cheek.

“Different Pokémon need different things. Some days are medical checks. Some grooming. Feeding. Habitat work. Training. Sometimes just sitting around so they don't decide I've died.”

Lyra looked toward Kangaskhan, who was asleep near the porch.

“Do they worry?”

Gray shrugged.

“Some.”

“And you?”

“What?”

“Do you worry when you're away?”

Gray looked at Bastiodon.

The old Pokémon continued eating.

“Yes.”

No joke.

No qualification.

Just yes.

Lyra noticed.

She didn't say anything for a while.

Gray appreciated that.

The ranch settled around them.

The pond was quieter.

Aerodactyl remained under the flight platform, grounded and offended.

Aggron lay near one of the shelters, head resting on his forelegs.

Venusaur had moved beneath the trees.

Cradily was invisible again.

Absol had disappeared somewhere around dusk.

Donphan was almost certainly considering further property damage.

Normal.

Gray leaned back against Bastiodon's side.

Lyra said, “I didn't realize how many of them had been with you that long.”

Gray looked at her.

She continued.

“Most trainers I've met have a few permanent partners, but this is different.”

“How?”

Lyra gestured toward the ranch.

“I don't know. It feels less like a collection.”

Gray frowned.

“It isn't a collection.”

“I know.”

She searched for the words.

“It feels like you built your life around them.”

Gray considered that.

He wasn't sure that was exactly right.

He hadn't built his life around his Pokémon.

They were his life.

Not all of it.

Research mattered.

Discovery mattered.

The world was full of things Gray desperately wanted to understand.

But there had never been a version of adulthood where Bastiodon wasn't somewhere nearby.

Cradily had been there for eighteen years.

Absol sixteen.

Aerodactyl fourteen.

Others longer or shorter.

Some had died.

Butterfree.

Dustox.

Scizor.

Gray thought of them sometimes when the ranch became quiet.

Not constantly.

That would have been unbearable.

But often enough.

Butterfree had loved warm windows.

Dustox used to sleep beside laboratory lamps.

Scizor had been possessive of one particular training field and irritated whenever anyone else used it.

Fifteen years each, roughly.

Long lives for their species.

Not long enough.

Never long enough.

Gray's hand stopped moving against Bastiodon's armor.

The old man rumbled softly.

Gray resumed.

Lyra looked away toward the sunset.

Good.

Gray didn't like people watching when his face did things without permission.

“They're family,” he said eventually.

Lyra nodded.

“Yeah.”

That was enough.

Blissey appeared from around the house.

Gray saw what she was carrying.

“No.”

Lyra looked.

Blissey held a small medical kit.

Gray stood.

“No.”

Blissey approached.

“I am fine.”

She pointed at the scratch on his forearm.

Gray looked down.

“This?”

Blissey stared.

“It is nothing.”

The stare intensified.

Lyra smiled.

“I wouldn't fight her.”

“I fought a Champion-level Karen team.”

“And?”

Gray looked at Blissey.

Blissey opened the kit.

Gray sat back down.

“Different matchup.”

Lyra laughed.

Blissey cleaned the scratch.

Gray endured it.

Then she checked his hands.

His feet.

One knee.

Apparently the entire day had become an excuse for a physical inspection.

“You are being excessive.”

Blissey ignored him.

Bastiodon rumbled.

Gray pointed.

“You stay out of this.”

Lyra was openly enjoying herself now.

Gray glared at her.

“Go home.”

“I am off the clock.”

“That makes this worse.”

Blissey finished.

She patted Gray's shoulder.

Gray sighed.

“Thank you.”

Blissey smiled.

Then reached into her pouch and handed him an egg.

Gray looked at it.

Then at her.

“Now?”

She nodded.

“I ate lunch.”

Blissey waited.

Gray took the egg.

“Fine.”

Lyra watched.

“Does she feed you too?”

“No.”

Blissey handed Gray a second egg.

Lyra laughed.

Gray stared at the egg.

“This is character assassination.”

“No,” Lyra said, “this is evidence.”

Gray ate both.

Blissey seemed satisfied.

She went inside.

Gray watched her disappear.

“Terrifying.”

Lyra smiled.

“You love it.”

“Of course.”

The answer came too easily to joke about.

Lyra glanced at him.

Gray pretended not to notice.

The sky deepened toward purple.

Lights turned on automatically around the ranch.

Bastiodon shifted closer.

Gray leaned against him again.

“Did you get any work done today?” Lyra asked.

Gray looked genuinely offended.

“This was work.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don't.”

“Research.”

Gray considered the question.

He had checked Aerodactyl's wing.

Recorded Cradily's injury.

Inspected age-related changes in multiple retired partners.

Reviewed feeding.

Observed Magikarp behavior.

Evaluated habitat systems.

“That was research.”

Lyra sighed.

“You're impossible.”

“Imprecise question.”

“I mean papers. Archaeology. The things you normally disappear into for twelve hours.”

“No.”

“And you're okay with that?”

Gray looked across the ranch.

At Gyarados moving beneath the pond.

At the dark shape of Venusaur under the trees.

At Aggron asleep near the rocks.

At the light inside his house.

At Bastiodon.

“Yes.”

That seemed to surprise her.

Gray smiled faintly.

“Research will still exist tomorrow.”

Lyra stared at him.

“What?”

“I want that recorded.”

“Why?”

“For the next time you refuse to stop working at three in the morning.”

“That is different.”

“How?”

“It will be three in the morning.”

She threw her hands up.

Gray laughed.

Eventually Lyra left.

Gray remained outside.

He didn't need to.

Everything was done.

Feed.

Checks.

Medication.

Habitats.

Nobody needed him.

That was part of why he stayed.

The ranch was never truly silent.

There was always movement.

Breathing.

Water.

Grass shifting.

The heavy metallic scrape of one of his larger Pokémon changing position.

Gray had spent years sleeping in archaeological camps where the wilderness sounded different every night.

He liked that too.

But this was home.

Not because of the house.

The house was useful.

It had a refrigerator Kangaskhan regularly robbed and a shower with water pressure Aggron had nearly destroyed by rubbing against an exterior pipe.

Home was the twenty-seven acres around it.

The pond full of idiots.

The old Pokémon asleep under trees.

The fossil Pokémon who should have been dead for millions of years and instead spent their afternoons demanding attention.

The partners who had grown older beside him.

Gray rested his hand against Bastiodon's face shield.

“You know what I was thinking?”

Bastiodon rumbled.

“You're very old.”

Bastiodon shoved him.

Gray nearly fell over.

He laughed.

“Still sensitive.”

Bastiodon stood.

Gray stood too.

They walked toward the house.

Slowly.

Bastiodon no longer moved as quickly as he had when Gray was ten.

Neither did Gray, probably, though he refused to analyze that.

At the porch, Kangaskhan lifted her head.

Blissey appeared in the doorway.

Chatot flew down from the roof and landed on Gray's shoulder.

Aggron noticed everyone moving and started toward them.

Gray immediately pointed.

“No licking.”

Aggron continued.

“I mean it.”

Aggron accelerated.

Gray backed toward the door.

“Don't.”

Chatot shrieked.

“DON'T!”

Kangaskhan stood.

Blissey moved aside.

Bastiodon remained exactly where he was, offering no help whatsoever.

Gray reached the porch.

Aggron reached Gray.

One enormous tongue dragged across the back of his head.

Gray closed his eyes.

Chatot screamed with laughter.

Not actual laughter.

A disturbingly accurate imitation of Lyra's.

Gray slowly turned toward Aggron.

Aggron looked deeply pleased.

“You know, I spend an incredible amount of money feeding you.”

Aggron rumbled.

“And this is how I'm treated.”

Another rumble.

Gray scratched his jaw anyway.

Kangaskhan pushed through the doorway.

Blissey followed.

Bastiodon settled beside the porch instead of coming inside.

Too large.

Too stubborn.

Gray would probably bring a blanket out later even though Bastiodon didn't need one.

He always did.

Aggron wandered toward his own shelter after several minutes.

Gray watched him go.

Chatot climbed from his shoulder onto his head.

Gray sighed.

“You have feet. Use them somewhere else.”

Chatot settled.

“Fuck off!”

Gray opened the door.

“Love you too.”

He went inside.

Tomorrow he would return to manuscripts, grant requests, archaeological reports, trainer records, and whichever new crisis the League had manufactured overnight.

There would be emails.

There would be meetings.

There would almost certainly be paperwork.

But tonight the house was warm, his Pokémon were fed, Aerodactyl's wing was going to be fine, Marowak's claw was wrapped, the western water line was repaired, and Magikarp Number Seventeen had successfully assaulted two employees without causing permanent injury.

By Gray's standards, that was an exceptionally productive day.

He closed the door behind him.

From outside came a deep rumble.

Gray stopped.

Opened the door again.

Bastiodon looked up.

“Yes, I remembered.”

Gray disappeared inside and returned with the blanket.

He draped it across Bastiodon's back.

The old Pokémon gave him a look.

“You like it.”

Bastiodon snorted.

“Whatever.”

Gray scratched beneath his jaw one last time.

Then he went inside for good.

Almost.

He made it halfway to the kitchen before Blissey appeared.

Gray stopped.

She pointed upstairs.

Gray looked at the clock.

Nine sixteen.

“You cannot be serious.”

Blissey pointed again.

“I'm thirty-two.”

She stared.

“That argument works on no one, does it?”

Blissey smiled.

Gray sighed.

Chatot shouted from his head.

“GO TO BED!”

Gray reached up, grabbed the bird gently around the body, and lifted him down.

“You are the least qualified creature on this property to lecture anyone about sleep.”

Chatot bit his finger.

Gray put him on the counter.

Kangaskhan was standing in front of the refrigerator again.

Gray stared.

She froze.

They looked at each other.

“No.”

Kangaskhan slowly moved one hand away from the handle.

Gray pointed toward her bed.

She walked away.

Blissey pointed upstairs.

Gray looked between them.

“This house is a dictatorship.”

Chatot puffed himself up.

“DICTATORSHIP!”

Gray paused.

He had absolutely no idea where the bird had learned that one.

That was tomorrow's problem.

Tonight, he went upstairs.