'He's late.'
The thought had gnawed at her since she did not see him coming back even after 30 minutes since leaving. Yellow had bathed, changed clothes, and stepped out of the room, Pikachu and Eevee padding loyally at her heels. She felt guilty for dragging them along — they could have stayed curled in the blanket's warmth — but she could not tell them so. Her silence was a cage she could not break.
'Where is he?'
The lobby was quiet, the air carrying the faint smell of disinfectant and morning coffee. As she neared, voices drifted to her.
"…We don't discuss Commissions in the lobby."
She froze, peeking around the corner. Ash, her companion, was walking with Nurse Joy down another corridor. Pikachu and Eevee brushed against her legs, eyes wide, waiting. She tilted her head toward the corridor, a small gesture, uncertain. They mistook it as a command and bounded forward. She followed, her steps light, her breath shallow.
At the end of the corridor, she saw them slip into a room, the door closing behind. Yellow stopped, staring at the door. Her hand hovered near the knob. Should she enter? Should she listen?
Her chest tightened. If I listen, it's wrong. But if I don't… I'll be left behind. I'll be in the dark again. The thought clawed at her. What if he doesn't trust me anymore? What if he leaves me?
The walls of the Centre dissolved. She was back in Viridian Forest. Alone. Hurt. Weak. Broken.
Her breath came fast, shallow. Hah… hah… hah…
Her knees buckled. Thud.
"Pika!" "Vee!"
The cries of the Pokémon were distant, muffled by the roaring in her ears.
Cold spread across her skin. Something wet streaked her face. Was it raining? Why did the floor feel so damp and cold?
A voice cut through the haze. Urgent. Familiar. "Y…yel…yello…"
Hands wrapped around her, pulling her close. Warmth pressed against her trembling body.
She forced her eyes open, lashes heavy with moisture. Ash's face swam into focus, his expression tight with worry. His arms held her firmly, protectively.
Blinking, she looked around. The corridor of the Centre, not the forest. The polished floor beneath her, not dirt. Her hand rose shakily to her face. Wetness clung to her skin. Her eyes stung.
She was crying.
-------------------------------------
"Follow me to the back room. We don't discuss Commissions in the lobby."
Ash blinked at Nurse Joy's sudden shift in tone. The warmth she usually carried was gone, replaced by something clipped, almost secretive. He nodded quickly, his mind buzzing with questions. What could be so important that it couldn't even be whispered in the lobby?
He followed her down the corridor on the right side of the building. The hallway was dimmer than the rest of the Centre, the overhead lights flickering faintly, casting long shadows across the walls. His footsteps echoed against the polished floor, each sound swallowed by the silence of the early morning. Nurse Joy's pace was brisk, her shoes clicking sharply, her posture rigid.
They stopped at a door tucked away at the end of the corridor. Joy reached into her pocket, pulling out a heavy ring of keys. The faint jingle of metal filled the air as she flipped through them, her fingers practised, precise. She selected one, slid it into the lock, and turned. The door clicked open with a sound that felt louder than it should have.
Inside, the atmosphere changed immediately. The air was stale, tinged with the faint smell of ozone and old paper. Gone were the pastel colours and cheerful posters of smiling Pokémon that decorated the lobby. The walls here were lined with corkboards cluttered with topographical maps of the region, weather reports pinned haphazardly, and grainy printed photos of wild Pokémon sightings. A large, older‑model computer terminal hummed loudly in the corner, its cooling fans struggling against the heat.
Nurse Joy's demeanour shifted the moment the lock clicked shut behind them. The welcoming smile vanished, replaced by sharp, administrative efficiency. She moved past him, her steps purposeful, and sat behind a heavy metal desk that looked like it had survived more than one Tauros stampede.
"Sit," she said. It wasn't a request.
Ash obeyed, lowering himself into a stiff wooden chair. The seat was uncomfortable, its edges digging into his legs, making him feel small, out of place. He glanced around nervously. "Uhh… is everything okay?"
"That depends on you, Ash," Joy replied, her fingers flying across the terminal's keyboard. The screen flickered to life, bathing her face in a harsh green glow. "Professor Oak sent you, which is the only reason you are in this room. Most trainers don't even know these exist. What else did Professor Oak tell you?"
Ash shifted in his seat, the weight of her words pressing down on him. "He said to ask you about those commissions… and that you'd explain the rest."
Joy stopped typing. Her eyes lifted from the screen, pinning him with a look that made him squirm.
"That's it?"
"Yes."
She sighed, leaning back into her chair. The sound was heavy, tired. "I really hoped he'd explained more. At least enough to prepare you for what you're stepping into. Whatever. I'll tell you, so you understand what you're getting into."
Ash relaxed slightly, his shoulders loosening. He gave her a bashful smile. "Thanks. It'll be good to know."
Joy nodded once, her tone softening just a fraction. "Mhm. Let's see, where should I begin? Why don't I tell you about—"
Thud.
The sound reverberated through the corridor outside, sharp and sudden. It was followed by the cries of Pokémon — familiar voices, urgent, distressed.
"Pika!" "Vee!"
Ash's heart lurched. Pikachu. Eevee.
He shot out of his chair, the wooden legs scraping harshly against the floor. He sprinted to the door, flung it open, and froze.
Yellow lay crumpled on the polished floor, her blonde hair damp against her forehead, her body trembling. Pikachu and Eevee hovered desperately at her sides, their cries echoing in the sterile hallway.
"Yellow!"
Ash dropped to his knees beside her, his arms wrapping around her fragile frame. He pulled her close, hugging her tightly, his voice breaking with urgency. "Yellow, hey, it's me. You're okay. You're safe."
Her body shook against him, her breath shallow, ragged. Her eyes were unfocused, trapped somewhere far away. He recognised it instantly — the same haunted look she'd had in Viridian Forest.
Why now? His stomach twisted. Why is it happening again? It is safe here in the Pokémon Centre.
He frantically scanned the corridor. Empty. Quiet. Safe. There was nothing here to hurt her. So why?
Then it hit him like a blow. He cursed under his breath. I forgot to give her the meds this morning.
Guilt clawed at him, sharp and merciless. He tightened his hold, rocking her gently, trying to anchor her back. "Shh… shh… everything's okay. I've got you. You're not alone."
Her tears streaked her cheeks, dampening his shirt. Her hand trembled as it rose to her face, brushing against the wetness. She blinked blearily, her lashes heavy, her vision clearing slowly.
Ash caught her hand in his own, squeezing it firmly, grounding her. His other hand rubbed soothing circles against her back. "Are you feeling better?"
She hesitated, then gave a faint nod.
"Can you stand up?" he asked softly.
A pause. Then another nod, hesitant, fragile.
"Do you want me to let go of your hand?"
Her head shook quickly, almost desperately.
Ash's chest tightened. He gave her hand another squeeze. "Alright. Let's get you up then."
Together, slowly, they rose from the floor. Her legs wobbled, but his grip steadied her. Their hands remained locked, her fingers clutching his as though afraid he might vanish.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Ash turned his head sharply. Nurse Joy was rushing back toward them, a glass of water and a wet towel clutched in her hands, her expression tight with concern.
She reached them, her eyes scanning Yellow's pale face. "Is she okay now?"
Ash looked down at Yellow, her hand still in his, her breathing steadier. He nodded. "Mhm… she's better now."
Joy exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing. Relief softened her features. She set the glass and the towel down carefully on a nearby table, her gaze lingering on the girl who had just collapsed.
The corridor fell quiet again, save for the faint hum of the Centre's lights and the soft breaths of the three figures standing together — Ash, Yellow, and Nurse Joy — bound by worry, relief, and the fragile weight of trust.
--------------------------------------
As Nurse Joy looked at them — the boy standing protectively, the girl trembling but clinging to his hand as though it were her lifeline — she understood why Professor Oak had recommended him. There was a steadiness in Ash's posture, an instinctive loyalty that spoke louder than any words. Well, there was nothing wrong about telling her then.
"Ash, can you bring her to the room with you as well?"
Ash blinked, his mouth opening to ask something, but Nurse Joy cut him off before he could speak. "You can also bring her in. She will be travelling with you after all."
Her tone softened at the end, and as she turned to enter the room, she heard a faint, whispered "Thank you" from behind. It was so quiet it might have been missed, but Joy caught it, and the corners of her mouth lifted in a small, private smile.
Ash turned to Yellow, his voice gentle but steady. "Can you walk?"
Yellow's nod was hesitant, her shoulders trembling, but she rose with him. Her hand clamped tighter around his, so tight that Ash felt a dull ache in his knuckles. He didn't complain. He simply adjusted his grip, letting her hold on as much as she needed.
Together, they stepped into the room. The air inside was heavier, stale compared to the bright lobby. Ash guided her to the only empty chair, easing her down carefully as though she might break if he moved too quickly. He didn't retract his hand, even as she sat. He remained standing close, hovering protectively, unwilling to risk her slipping again.
Pikachu and Eevee padded in after them, their paws clicking softly against the floor. They pressed themselves against Yellow's legs, their bodies warm and solid, their eyes sharp with concern. Pikachu's tail flicked nervously, while Eevee's ears twitched at every sound.
Nurse Joy sat opposite them, her posture straight, her hands clasped together on the desk. The metal surface reflected the harsh green glow of the computer terminal, casting shadows across her face. When she spoke, her voice had shifted again — softer now, but carrying an undercurrent of gravity that made Ash straighten instinctively.
"Before I continue, I would like to ask you two some questions." Her eyes flicked to Ash. "Ash, did you forget to give her the meds?"
The flinch from both of them was answer enough. Joy sighed, the sound heavy but not unkind.
"Well, that explains some part of it. After this, I hope you both do not forget to take your meds. Understood?"
Both nodded, their movements small but earnest.
Joy's gaze shifted to Yellow. "Yellow, did you follow us to the room?"
Yellow's shoulders tightened, her grip on Ash's hand tightening further. That was enough.
"Did you see the door close behind Ash?"
Ash raised an eyebrow, confused, but his attention snapped back to Yellow as she began to shiver. Her breath quickened, her eyes darting to the floor. Joy's expression softened. Ah. So it's like that.
"Ash," she said, her tone sharper now to pull his focus.
He looked up immediately. "O-okay."
"Promise me something."
Ash blinked, his voice uncertain. "Promise you what?"
"Promise me to never leave her side again. Alright?"
Yellow's head snapped toward Joy, surprise etched across her pale face. Her lips parted, but no sound came.
"Huh?" Ash frowned, confusion warring with guilt. "But… I was only gone for thirty minutes to talk to Professor Oak! She didn't panic then!"
Joy's eyes narrowed. "Was she awake when you left?"
Ash hesitated, his voice dropping. "She was half-asleep. I told her I was going downstairs, but… the call took longer than I expected."
"And that is the problem. Uncertainty." Joy leaned forward, her hands tightening together. "Tell me, Ash. Has she ever had an episode like this when you weren't near her before?"
Ash opened his mouth to deny it. "N—" But the word died in his throat.
Memories surged. Pewter City. The Gym battle. The aftermath. Her bleeding hands, her trembling body, the way she had clung to him after he entered the observation room. He hadn't understood it then, but now… now it all made sense.
His shoulders slumped, his gaze falling to his shoes. That silence was answer enough for Joy.
So, it has happened before, she thought, studying his expression. He clearly cared for her, but he was mistaking this for a simple trauma trigger from the forest. He didn't realise he had become her emotional anchor, the one tether holding her steady.
Joy considered correcting him, explaining the nuances of abandonment issues versus trauma response. But looking at the terrified girl clutching his hand and the guilt-ridden boy who couldn't meet her eyes, she decided against it. The diagnosis didn't matter right now. The solution was the same.
"Ash," she said again, her voice softening.
He looked up, his eyes wide, raw. "Yeah?"
"Promise me you won't disappear on her again. If you have to leave her sight, you tell her exactly where you are going and when you are coming back. No secrets. No closed doors without a plan."
Ash turned to Yellow. Her eyes were wide, fear still lingering in their depths. He realised now that his 'quick trips' weren't harmless. To her, they were cracks in the ground beneath her feet.
"I promise," he said firmly. Then, realising who he truly needed to say it to, he turned fully to her. His voice softened, but his words carried weight. "I promise, Yellow. I won't leave you in the dark again."
Yellow's lips trembled, her eyes shimmering. She gave a small nod, her grip tightening once more, but this time it wasn't out of fear. It was trust.
Joy watched them for a long moment, satisfied. She reached for a thick folder on her desk, its edges worn from use, and flipped it open. The sound of paper against metal filled the room, grounding them back into the present.
"Good," she said, her tone steady. "Now that we have that settled… let's talk about your Commission."
The room fell quiet again, the hum of the terminal filling the silence. Ash straightened, Yellow leaned slightly toward him, and Pikachu and Eevee pressed closer against her legs. The three of them were bound together now — by promises, by fear, and by the fragile thread of trust that had just been spoken aloud.
---------------------------------
Nurse Joy's voice carried a quiet authority as she rifled through the drawers behind the counter, the faint clatter of metal trays and the rustle of papers punctuating her words. The Centre smelled faintly of antiseptic and fresh linen, the kind of scent that always lingered in places where healing was constant. Ash and Yellow sat side by side, their attention fixed on her, though their postures betrayed their different temperaments—Ash leaning forward, elbows on his knees, restless energy radiating from him, while Yellow sat straighter, hands folded neatly in her lap, her eyes wide and curious.
"Before I explain what commissions are," Nurse Joy began, her tone measured, "you need to be told a bit of history of it."
She glanced over her shoulder briefly, gauging their attentiveness. Ash's eyes lit up immediately, eager, while Yellow tilted her head, her golden hair falling like a curtain as she listened.
"Has Professor Oak ever told you about how the League started?" she asked.
"Yes, he did," Ash replied quickly, almost too quickly, his voice carrying that familiar spark of pride at knowing something. Yellow shook her head, her expression soft but inquisitive, silently admitting she hadn't heard the tale.
Nurse Joy's lips curved faintly, though her hands never stopped moving as she searched. "...As I still need to open the Centre, can you tell her about it after I have explained about the Commissions?"
"Sure thing!" Ash said, puffing out his chest a little, as if he'd been entrusted with something important. Yellow's gaze flicked to him, then back to Nurse Joy, her expression caught between admiration and mild scepticism.
"As you know—or do not know—the League was established with the help of merchants," Nurse Joy continued, her voice steady, "for protection and to regulate the trainer guilds in the past. Back then, it wasn't the only thing they were asked to do. Trainers had to take on all kinds of jobs for a price. That hasn't changed entirely, even today."
Ash leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. "So what do we do there? Rescue people, save princesses, find lost treasure, or—"
His enthusiasm spilt out like a flood, his hands gesturing wildly as if he could already see himself in those adventures. Yellow's eyes mirrored his excitement, her lips parted in anticipation. Nurse Joy, however, raised a brow and cut him off with a sharp, no-nonsense tone.
"I was getting to that. May I continue?"
Ash froze, his mouth snapping shut. His ears burned red as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Yellow ducked her head, embarrassed on his behalf, though her smile betrayed her amusement.
Nurse Joy sighed inwardly. Kids.
"As I was saying," she pressed on, "the tasks are ranked depending on the level of skill, the time, or the danger involved. They go from D, C, B, A, S... and one more rank you don't need to know about." Her eyes flicked briefly to Ash, daring him to interrupt again. He didn't.
She set down a stack of folders on the counter, smoothing them with precise movements. "But commissions are different from Trainer Jobs. There's a distinction, even if they look similar on the surface."
Yellow leaned forward now, her brows furrowed. "Different how?"
"Trainer Jobs," Nurse Joy explained, "are tasks posted publicly. Private organisations, companies, or even individuals can hire trainers to do their bidding. You'll see them posted in the lobby of the Centre. Anyone can take them if they feel up for it."
Ash nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities.
"Trainer Commissions," she continued, her voice lowering slightly, "are given directly by the League. They range from investigations for professors, rescuing trapped people, bringing down hunters, locating rare resources, and other sensitive tasks. They're not shown publicly. Only trainers who have proven themselves—trainers who can be trusted—are given these. In emergencies, yes, they may be delegated publicly to gather as many trainers as possible, but otherwise... they remain hidden."
Ash frowned, his brows knitting together. "Why aren't they publicly available then? Why keep them secret?"
Nurse Joy paused, then countered with a question of her own. "What do you think will happen if trainers stop battling each other and only chase commissions for money? What happens when fewer trainers compete in the annual League competition?"
Ash blinked, his mouth opening, then closing again. He hadn't thought of that.
"That would mean less revenue," Nurse Joy explained, her tone firm. "And who would you trust with your task? An average trainer who simply gave their word, risking failure... or one with a proven track record, someone the League knows can get the job done?"
Ash's lips pressed together, his earlier excitement tempered by the weight of her words. Yellow's eyes softened, understanding dawning on her face.
"You can take public jobs too," Nurse Joy added, "on top of commissions. That gives you the flexibility to earn more. But commissions provide leverage—something I'll explain in a moment."
She tapped the folders lightly. "Even if you qualify, the type of commissions available depends on the number of badges you hold. Any questions so far?"
Ash raised his hand almost instinctively, like a schoolboy. "Yeah, one thing. Does the type of badge also affect them?"
Nurse Joy blinked, surprised. "What type of badge do you have? Can I see it?"
Ash grinned, pulling out his badge case with a flourish. "It's the Boulder S Badge. The one with the silver S."
The words made Nurse Joy pause. She turned to the terminal, her fingers flying across the keys as she pulled up the League's database. Minutes passed, the hum of the machine filling the silence. Then, there it was—the Boulder Badge, with a small silver 'S' etched in subscript at the lower right corner.
Her breath caught. She knew what to look for, but even then, she nearly missed it.
It had been nearly a decade since anyone had earned an 'S' badge. Survival-type badges weren't just rare—they were brutal to obtain. Trainers who carried them had proven they could endure the worst dangers and still walk away.
No wonder Professor Oak had recommended him.
"Hm..." Nurse Joy murmured, her expression softening. "That certainly helps. You've already fulfilled the conditions of recommendation and earned an S badge. That makes registration easier."
Ash tilted his head. "There's a separate registration?"
"Yes," Nurse Joy said firmly. "Not just anyone can clear commissions. With only a recommendation, there would be... friction. But with an S badge, you've proven yourself in real battles, not the controlled ones the public sees. And of course, you can't earn a badge without being a trainer."
Ash's brow furrowed. "Just how secretive is it?"
Nurse Joy winced, pulling out a stack of papers and sliding them across the desk. The crisp sound of paper filled the air.
"It's not about secrecy," she said quietly, "but about how small the numbers are now. As far as I know, there are only about a hundred trainers alive in the world who qualify. You're one of the very few to enter this system in the past decade... perhaps the only one with the S badge condition fulfilled during registration."
Ash's pen hovered above the paper, his hand trembling slightly. "Whoa..."
Disbelief washed over him. He thought surely others had met the conditions. But then his mind betrayed him, replaying memories of falling rocks, explosions, the bruises and burns he'd endured, the countless times he'd nearly been crushed or gravely injured. His body had been pushed beyond what most of his age could endure.
His lips twisted into a weak chuckle, but there was no joy in it. His eyes half-closed, shadowed by the weight of realisation. Yeah, no. I can totally imagine why the condition was placed... and why there are so few.
Yellow leaned closer, her eyes flicking between his face and the papers. She recognised some of the words, though not all, her curiosity burning.
Ash steadied his hand, finally pressing pen to paper. His voice came out quieter, tinged with wonder and unease.
"Why are there so few?"
The question hung in the air, heavy, as Nurse Joy watched him write, her own expression tightening with the knowledge she carried.
Nurse Joy's sigh lingered in the air, heavy with something unspoken. Her eyes softened, though her words carried the weight of years.
"Most of them aren't around anymore… They just weren't able to keep up."
The silence that followed pressed against the walls of the small back room. Ash's pen scratched faintly against the paper as he finished filling out the forms she had given him. His handwriting was hurried, uneven, and the ink blotting slightly where his hand trembled. He thought of the rocks that had nearly crushed him, the explosions, the bruises that had taken days to fade. His chest tightened. Yeah… no wonder there are so few.
He slid the papers across the desk. Nurse Joy took them without a word, her fingers deft and practised. She typed into the humming terminal, the green glow flickering across her face. The printer whirred to life, its grinding gears filling the silence. A sheet slid out, warm and smelling faintly of ink. Joy cut off a portion with scissors, the sharp snip echoing in the room, then slipped the piece into a plastic ID holder. She handed it to Ash with deliberate care.
"Don't lose this," she said, her voice firm. "This is your provisional ID as a Surveyor. Depending on the skills you display and the strength you garner over time, you might even change your class from Surveyor to Vanguard… or even Enforcer, the highest class. You will receive the official ID from a League member afterwards."
Ash turned the card over in his hands. It felt heavier than it should have, the plastic edges biting faintly into his fingers. His reflection warped in the glossy surface. "When?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
Joy shook her head. "To be honest, I don't actually know. You'll be travelling a lot. Every trainer has to register themselves at the Pokémon Centre and will be collecting gym badges. They might use the registry to get a general understanding of your location and destination… or they might use other methods. With your registration complete now, we can move on to giving you a task."
Ash nodded, but before Joy could continue, he felt a tug at his shirt. He looked down. Yellow's small hand clutched the fabric, her eyes wide, uncertain.
"What happened, Yellow?" he asked softly.
She hesitated, her lips parting, but no sound came. Her silence pressed against her like a wall. She glanced at the desk, then reached for the pen and an extra sheet of paper. Her fingers trembled as she wrote, each letter slow, uneven. When she finished, she pushed the paper toward him.
Ash squinted at the wobbly letters. "P… A… R… C?" he read aloud, confusion flickering across his face.
"Parc?" Nurse Joy echoed, tilting her head. "Park? But there is no park anywhere here."
Yellow shook her head quickly, frustration tightening her grip on the pen.
Ash frowned, his mind racing. If it's not a park, then what? Something that sounds like park… His eyes widened. Perk.
"Oh," he breathed.
Joy's eyes lit with sudden realisation. "I thought I was forgetting something!" She leaned forward, her tone softening as she reached out to rub Yellow's head affectionately. "Thanks for reminding me, Yellow."
Ash blinked, still confused. "What's 'parc'?"
Joy smiled faintly. "Before I give you your first Commission, I must also tell you about the various perks you will receive."
Ash straightened, listening intently. Yellow's eyes followed Joy's lips, her attention sharp, her posture still trembling but steadier now.
"As you know," Joy continued, "normal trainers can carry only six Pokémon on themselves at all times due to regulations. It is hard to raise that many Pokémon for the average trainer. One of the perks is that, depending upon your performance, you will be able to raise the carry limit for yourselves. Not now, but eventually."
Ash's gaze flicked to Yellow. She was leaning forward slightly, her eyes wide, her attention fixed. He smiled faintly, appreciating her focus. From the corner of his eye, he noticed her handwriting on the paper again — the wobble of the 'P' and 'R,' the uneven spacing. She's improving, he thought. We'll need to work on spellings next, but she's getting there.
Joy's voice carried on, steady and deliberate. "…The second perk is that your monthly trainer allowance will increase depending on your rank, on top of your existing League allowance. Some of it will be stored away as life and health insurance."
Ash nodded slowly, the weight of responsibility pressing heavier on his shoulders.
"There is actually another perk," Joy added, her tone shifting to something more uncertain. "But I do not know the details. I am a newer League member, not high in position. What I do know is that you can only get it after you have been deemed 'worthy enough,' whatever that means." She shrugged lightly, her expression apologetic.
"Really? Nothing?" Ash asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Joy shook her head firmly. "Nothing."
The silence stretched again. Pikachu's tail flicked against the floor. Eevee's ears twitched. Yellow's fingers tightened around Ash's sleeve.
"So… what do we do now?" Ash asked finally.
Joy reached into a drawer, pulling out a stack of papers and reports. She flipped through them, her fingers moving quickly, before selecting a few and sliding them across the desk.
Ash picked them up, the paper rough beneath his fingertips. "What are these?"
Joy leaned back, her expression grave. "There have been reports of multiple Pokémon being displaced from Mount Moon. Some people have been reported missing as well. As you are the only Surveyor in these parts, no matter how new you are, you are being tasked with a C-rank mission to find the cause. I would have asked the Gym Leader to go, but…" Her eyes flicked to Ash, sharp. "…the rumours of the hospital blowing up and the explosion at the gym."
Ash twitched, his jaw tightening.
Joy's gaze narrowed. "Which must have been caused by the battle between you two."
Yellow's eyes widened, her lips parting in protest. She shifted forward, ready to defend him, but Ash placed a hand gently on her head. "It's okay," he murmured. She stilled, her shoulders relaxing under his touch.
"Come on, Yellow," he said softly. "We need to prepare to leave."
Joy raised a hand. "Not yet. Take some time to go through the reports. Have breakfast. Then leave. I have a feeling you will need it. In those papers, there are mentions of rumours about certain Pokémon you should avoid. It is imperative for your safety. Always hurrying might end up going against you."
Ash nodded reluctantly, his grip tightening on the papers.
Joy stood, smoothing her uniform. "With that out of the way, I need to prepare breakfast and open the Centre. And just before I forget — when you go to Centres in the cities to report your success and get a new mission, slide your ID below your Dex. Then ask for a TC package. The attendant will give you a password while making small talk and direct you to the storeroom or another method of accessing the place. Pay attention. They will not repeat themselves."
Her eyes lingered on them — the boy, the girl, the two Pokémon pressed close. She exhaled softly, her voice carrying a final weight.
"Welcome to the corps. And stay alive."
The words hung in the air long after she left, the door clicking shut behind her. Ash looked down at the papers in his hands, the ink smudged faintly where his fingers had pressed too hard. Yellow leaned against him, her hand still clutching his sleeve. Pikachu and Eevee pressed closer, their warmth grounding them both.
The hum of the terminal filled the silence, steady and unyielding. The world outside the room was waking, but inside, everything felt heavier, sharper. They were no longer just trainers. They were Surveyors now — part of something hidden, something dangerous.
And the only advice they had been given was simple. Stay alive.
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AN: Sorry for the delay. IRL issues and falling sick held me back, and somehow, ending up with deleting the original draft certainly did not help. With no beta readers or editor, I just hope that the quality is up to the mark.