The morning sun filtered through the tent, casting a warm glow over the two sleeping figures inside. Satoshi, still lost in deep slumber, instinctively turned over and wrapped his arms around something soft and warm.
It was a habit from his past life—back when he worked at the pet shop, he often found himself napping alongside the animals, hugging them in his sleep. For a few blissful moments, he snuggled closer, sighing contentedly.
Then, pain.
A sharp, prickling sensation shot through his arms and chest, like hugging a cactus wrapped in fur. His eyes snapped open.
"GAAHH—!!!"
A bloodcurdling scream tore through the campsite. Satoshi bolted upright, clutching his now slightly reddened arms.
"What the hell?!" His voice cracked, his brain still trying to process the sudden pain. His panicked gaze shot downward, and there it was: Zigzagoon, still fast asleep, its fluffy yet spiky fur bristling with every breath. Satoshi gawked in disbelief.
"You have got to be kidding me… Why is your fur this freakish sharp?!"
Zigzagoon remained blissfully unconscious, snoring softly. Satoshi twitched.
"Are you even gonna wake up?!" No response. He facepalmed himself. "Unbelievable…"
Satoshi let out a long sigh, shaking his head before carefully stepping out of the tent. He grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder as he stretched his sore arms.
The morning air was crisp and fresh, with sunlight filtering through the trees. "Alright… time to wake up properly." he muttered, rubbing his eyes.
There was no river nearby—at least, not close enough for a quick wash. He would've preferred to splash some cool water from a stream, but he wasn't about to trek all the way back to the river he crash-landed in just for that.
So instead, he reached into his backpack, focusing on what he needed. 'Water bottle…' His fingers wrapped around something cool, and sure enough, a bottle of clean water appeared in his hand.
"This backpack is a lifesaver," he mumbled, twisting off the cap. Pouring some of the water into his palm, he splashed it onto his face.
The coolness jolted him awake, washing away the last traces of sleepiness. He took a few more handfuls before shaking off the excess and wiping his face with his sleeve.
"Much better."
He glanced back at the tent, where Zigzagoon was still asleep.
Satoshi sighed. "Seriously? Still not awake, lazy rascal." Debating whether or not to wake the little raccoon up, Satoshi stretched his arms over his head, letting out a yawn before rolling them back down.
He instead turned his attention to the next thing he needed. "Alright, first things first. new clothes..."
His current outfit was a mess. His shirt was wrinkled, his pants were still slightly damp from yesterday's river crash, and he could feel bits of dirt clinging to him.
No wonder he stank.
Reaching into his backpack, he focused on what he wanted—a fresh outfit.
His fingers brushed against fabric, and when he pulled his hand out, he found exactly what he had in mind: a blue hoodie—soft, comfortable, and light enough to wear in warm weather; long black pants—flexible and sturdy, perfect for traveling; and a visor hat—to shield his eyes from the sun.
"Not bad," he muttered, nodding in approval.
He glanced around, making sure the area was clear before quickly changing behind some nearby bushes. Once dressed, he adjusted his visor hat, pulling it snugly over his head.
"Much better," he sighed in relief, feeling cleaner and more refreshed.
Now that he was ready for the day, there was only one thing left to do: breakfast. But this wasn't just any breakfast. In the quiet solitude of the Kalos forest, with the sun climbing higher and birdsong filling the air, Satoshi felt a sudden, inexplicable pull toward the art of cooking.
It was as if the chaos of his arrival had faded, replaced by a singular focus—a deep, almost meditative dive into the rhythms of the kitchen, even if his "kitchen" was nothing more than a portable setup in the wilderness.
Cooking had always been a quiet passion in his old life, a way to unwind after long days at the pet shop, experimenting with flavors and techniques. Here, in this new world, it felt like the perfect anchor.
And today, his mind locked onto one dish: a classic fried rice, elevated with fresh ingredients and precise steps, turning a simple meal into a symphony of textures and tastes.
Satoshi set his backpack down and crouched beside it, rolling up his sleeves.
His eyes gleamed with determination as he envisioned the recipe—a real, tried-and-true one he'd perfected over years, inspired by street food stalls and home experiments. Fried rice wasn't just stir-fried leftovers; it was about balance, heat control, and layering flavors.
"Alright, let's do this." he muttered to himself, cracking his knuckles.
"First off, always start with day-old rice for that perfect texture, fresh stuff gets mushy. Two cups should do it." He reached inside the backpack, pulling out each ingredient he needed, one by one, as if curating a masterpiece.
First, the basics: 2 cups of day-old cooked rice (fresh rice would be too sticky, but his backpack manifested perfectly chilled, pre-cooked jasmine rice, fluffy and ready).
"Jasmine rice is key here—it's fragrant and holds up well to stirring." he explained under his breath, setting it aside.
Then, proteins and veggies—2 eggs, 100g of diced chicken breast (tender and quick-cooking), a handful of frozen peas and carrots (for color and sweetness), 1 small onion finely chopped, 2 cloves of garlic minced, and a green onion for garnish.
"Veggies add that crunch and balance. Just chop 'em fine so they cook evenly." he added, mimicking a master chef chopping motion as he laid them out.
For flavor: 2 tablespoons of soy sauce (light for saltiness without overpowering), 1 tablespoon of oyster sauce (for umami depth), a dash of sesame oil (nutty aroma), salt, pepper, and a pinch of white pepper for that subtle heat.
"Add soy as the base, oyster for depth and don't skimp on the white pepper, it gives that authentic kick without overwhelming." Oil for the pan—neutral vegetable oil to start, with a swirl of sesame at the end before finally started cooking.
He set up his portable stove on a flat rock, igniting the flame to medium-high heat, and placed a wide wok-style pan on top (the backpack provided a lightweight carbon steel one, ideal for even heating).
"Heat the pan dry first to season it lightly, then add the oil—about a tablespoon of vegetable to begin." he instructed himself, watching the oil shimmer. "It should coat the bottom evenly; if it smokes too much, turn down the heat, not off."
As the pan heated, he poured in 1 tablespoon of vegetable oil, swirling it to coat the surface.
The oil shimmered, a sign it was ready—no smoking, just hot enough to sizzle. In went the beaten eggs, scrambled quickly with a wooden spatula until just set but still soft—about 30 seconds—then scooped out and set aside.
"Eggs first for that fluffy texture—don't overcook 'em; they finish in the residual heat later." he murmured, narrating to himself like a chef in a cooking show.
Next, another tablespoon of oil, then the diced chicken.
"Season the chicken lightly with salt and pepper right in the pan, it locks in the juices so it doesn't taste bland." he said, stirring constantly to brown it evenly without overcooking—2-3 minutes until golden and juicy.
Out it came, joining the eggs. "Remove it now so it doesn't dry out; we'll add it back at the end." Now, the aromatics: onion and garlic tossed in with a fresh slick of oil.
"Aromatics are the foundation. sauté 'em till they're soft and fragrant, about a minute, but don't let the garlic burn or it'll turn bitter."
He stirred them until fragrant and translucent, about 1 minute, the sweet sharpness filling the air and making the forest feel like a bustling kitchen. Next with the peas and carrots, frozen straight from the pack, sautéing for another 2 minutes until thawed and vibrant.
"Frozen veggies work great here. they add moisture without making things soggy, now stir them till they're bright and crisp-tender."
The rice was the star.
He dumped it in, breaking up any clumps with the back of the spatula, letting it fry and absorb the flavors—3-4 minutes on high heat for those crispy bits at the edges, the hallmark of great fried rice.
"High heat for wok hei—that smoky essence you can't get any other way—and keep stirring to avoid sticking." he whispered, recalling the breath of the wok that gave it essence. "Break up the rice gently; you want separate grains, not a mash."
The sauces: soy and oyster drizzled evenly, tossed vigorously to coat every grain without sogginess.
"Add sauces around the edges so they caramelize a bit before mixing—two tablespoons soy, one oyster for balance."
Back in the chicken and eggs, all together into the pan. "Fold, don't stir hard now. keep the eggs fluffy."
A final swirl of sesame oil off the heat, a sprinkle of white pepper, and chopped green onions for freshness.
"Sesame oil last for aroma as the finishing touch, not cooking—it burns easily. And green onions for that fresh pop at the end."
The aroma was intoxicating—savory, garlicky, with hints of caramel from the soy and a nutty undertone.
Satoshi exhaled, admiring his work.
"Now this is breakfast~" He plated a generous portion, the rice steaming and glistening, each component in perfect harmony.
As he lifted his spoon, ready to take the first bite—a fuzzy head suddenly popped into his vision.
"Zig?! (What that!?)"
Satoshi blinked, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the Zigzagoon staring up at him, eyes wide and shimmering with curiosity toward the food more than whatever clothing he was currently wearing.
Its little nose twitched furiously as it sniffed the air, clearly enamored by the scent of fried rice wafting from his plate.
Satoshi raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You only wake up to the smell of food?" Zigzagoon let out a soft trill and took a tentative step forward, ignoring his question.
Satoshi instinctively held the plate away. "Hold it, this is my breakfast." "Ziiig… (But it smells so good...)" Zigzagoon sat down, tilted its head, and gave the saddest, most pitiful look imaginable.
"Zig? Zag? (Just a bite? Please?)"
Satoshi stared at it, unmoved for a moment… then groaned in defeat. "Ugh, but just a little, okay?"
He grabbed a smaller plate, scooped out a modest portion—carefully omitting any chicken, just in case, sticking to rice, veggies, eggs, and sauces—and set it down on the grass a short distance away.
The moment the dish hit the ground, "Zig! Zigzig! (So good! This is amazing!)" Zigzagoon dove in face-first, scarfing it down with enthusiastic squeaks and tail-wagging.
"You're lucky I made extra." Satoshi watched in quiet amusement, spooning his own food into his mouth.
The fried rice was perfection—crispy edges, tender insides, bursts of umami and freshness in every bite. For a moment, the Pokémon world faded; it was just him, the dish, and the pure joy of creation.
A few minutes passed in peaceful silence, filled only by the clinking of cutlery and the sounds of a hungry raccoon devouring breakfast like it hadn't eaten something so delicious.
Once finished, Satoshi leaned back and exhaled, satisfied. "Alright, time to pack up."
He dusted his hands off, then turned to his gear. The campsite was still quiet, bathed in golden light, but it was time to move on. He began putting things away, one by one. First, he cleaned the pan and cooking utensils with a bit of water, drying them quickly before reaching into the infinite tool backpack.
As he focused, the bag's interior shifted subtly, creating space so he could put back all the stuff. The pan and utensils disappeared inside with a slight shimmer, like they were being absorbed into a digital inventory.
'Phew, luckily it has an infinite inventory -like feature too, otherwise I'd have to leave everything here.'
Next went the portable stove, fuel canister, plates, and leftover ingredients—each item vanishing smoothly into the endless void of the backpack, leaving no trace of the meal behind. Satoshi wiped his hands on his pants and zipped the pack shut.
"Man, I'm never gonna get tired of how convenient this thing is," with a satisfied smile.
He turned toward the Zigzagoon, who had returned to its previous spot, now sitting with a satisfied little belly bulge, licking its lips with a pleased grunt. "Ziiig~ (I'm full… that hit the spot.)"
Satoshi rolled his eyes. "You know, for a wild Pokémon, you're really good at mooching."
Zigzagoon simply blinked at him, then flopped over onto its side with a yawn, looking perfectly content. "Zigzagoon~ (Totally worth waking up for.)"
Satoshi shook his head, smiling despite himself. "Yeah, yeah… freeload all you want. Just don't expect me to carry you."
"Zigzag. (That's rude.)"
He ignored the comment then slung the backpack over his shoulders and took one last look around the campsite, now clean and ready to be left behind.
"Time to get moving," he said, stretching once more before setting off.
Zigzagoon didn't follow right away but after a few seconds, it popped back up and started going after him with its tail wagging. Satoshi glanced sideways at it.
"You coming with me, huh?"
"Zigzagoon. (Yeah, free food.)" The little Pokémon replied, simply padding alongside him as if it had already made its decision.
Satoshi let out a flat chuckle, adjusting his visor hat as they walked beneath the trees. "Guess we'll see how long you stick around."
And so, the two headed off into the forest path—one human, one spiky furball—ready to face whatever the day had in store, with the lingering taste of that masterful fried rice fueling their steps...
*
To be continued...
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