"Achoo!"
The sneeze echoed softly in the dim corner of the Pokémon House. Ethan Carter, seated in his ever-present wheelchair, sniffled and rubbed at his nose before pointing at himself with mock seriousness.
"Charmander, you see this? This is what happens when you don't take care of your body—you get sick and sneeze out of nowhere. Don't copy me. You need to rest well and keep yourself in top shape."
"Rua~" came the half-hearted reply. The little Shiny Fire-type lay sprawled on the floor, tail flame swaying lazily from side to side.
Ethan chuckled. "Goodnight, Charmander."
After lingering for a moment longer, he wheeled himself back to the staff dormitory.
Ten minutes later, darkness fully settled over the Pokémon House. Silence filled the air, broken only by the occasional rustle of sleeping Pokémon.
That was when Charmander's eyes snapped open.
Carefully, he pushed himself upright, scanning the room. Every other Pokémon was fast asleep. With practiced quiet, he padded to the windowsill, hopped up, and pushed the pane open.
The cool night air greeted him as he leapt outside, landing softly on the grass.
"Rua…" he whispered to himself.
Head tilted back, mouth opening slightly, he focused. Two seconds later, a faint wisp of heated air slipped past his teeth. Then another.
Charmander had begun his own secret training—Dragon Breath.
Twenty meters away, in the dormitory window, Ethan Carter leaned an elbow on the sill, watching with a small, knowing smile.
"I knew you'd sneak out, you little rascal," he murmured.
His gaze softened. "Since you're working this hard… it's only right for your future trainer to keep you company."
Pushing his wheelchair closer to the window, Ethan settled in to watch the night unfold.
Morning came too soon. The alarm clock's sharp ring dragged Ethan from his light sleep.
He blinked in confusion at first, then memory returned—the secret nighttime training, the quiet hours watching Charmander try again and again. He rubbed at his tired, slightly reddened eyes and looked out the window.
Beneath a fruit tree, the small flame of a tail flickered in the dawn light.
Ethan stepped outside.
Charmander lay there, exhausted but unyielding, his breath slow and steady. Above his head, Ethan's system display revealed the change—Dragon Breath: Learnable → Mastered.
A proud smile curved Ethan's lips. "What a hardworking kid."
Slipping off his coat, he gently draped it over Charmander.
"Rua?" The noise woke the Fire-type. His eyes blinked open, momentarily confused, then lit up in unguarded joy at the sight of Ethan.
"Rua~!" He scrambled upright, pointing at himself, then tilting his head back and opening his mouth.
Heat gathered—thicker, denser than before—until, after a few seconds, a stream of scorching black energy roared forth, striking the air with visible force.
When it faded, Charmander looked up at Ethan expectantly.
The trainer's expression was calm.
"Rua?" Charmander's call held a note of uncertainty. Was that not good enough?
Two seconds later, Ethan's face broke into a wide grin.
"That's incredible! Charmander, you're truly amazing. In just one day, you've mastered Dragon Breath. No other Pokémon could match that speed—you really are the super genius I chose!"
Both thumbs shot up in enthusiastic praise.
Charmander's face split into a radiant, innocent smile. His eyes narrowed into delighted crescents.
Ethan kept the praise going for over two minutes, piling compliment upon compliment until he literally ran out of fresh ways to say "amazing." Charmander, clearly basking in it, grinned along with him the whole time.
When the laughter faded, Charmander jabbed a claw toward the building where Snorlax slept. His meaning was obvious: Can I take my revenge now?
Ethan shook his head. "Not yet. Snorlax is three levels higher than you. We still have other special training to do."
"Rua…"
"My plan for today," Ethan explained, "is to raise your level and improve your skill proficiency. That means battle—lots of battles. Fight other Pokémon, use your moves again and again, sharpen them until they're stronger than ever. It'll be tiring, but it's the only way to draw out your hidden potential. You up for it?"
Charmander clenched his small fist, nodding with fierce confidence.
"That's my super talent," Ethan said warmly. "Come on—let's grab breakfast, then head to the park."
Halfway there, Charmander slowed, eyes narrowing. Something was off.
He darted in front of Ethan, blocking his path. "Rua?" His gaze dropped downward.
Ethan followed it—then froze. He wasn't in the wheelchair.
Without missing a beat, he shifted into his "injured but inspired" persona. "Oh my! I stood up without even realizing it. Looks like my injuries have healed—must be because of you, Charmander. You're not just a genius—you're a good-luck charm!"
Charmander's smile returned in full force. "Rua~ Rua~"
At the park, the morning air was filled with shouts and Pokémon cries. Today, in addition to Lena, even Mr. Fuji had come to watch.
News had spread fast. Trainers who'd seen Ethan predict training outcomes yesterday had risen at dawn to secure a spot in line for his guidance.
"Brother, my Squirtle needs progress checks!"
"No, look at my Scyther—been working on Agility for a week, still no change!"
"Forget them, I'll pay more—help me train my Magmar!"
Within seconds, Ethan was surrounded.
He glanced at Charmander. "Train on your own for now. I'll join you when I can."
"Rua."
As Charmander trotted off, Ethan called over his shoulder, "Lena, I need ten bottles of PP supplements and ten of the best wound medicine. I'll transfer the money later."
"Bossy, aren't you?" she muttered, rolling her eyes—but she still headed off to buy them.
Fuji, meanwhile, settled on a nearby bench, watching the scene unfold.
After only a few minutes of observation, the old man shook his head in disbelief. "Two thousand Pokédollars for each person he helps… just for looking at their Pokémon and giving an answer. I've never seen money made so quickly."
His gaze lingered on Ethan. "But… is everything he says really accurate?"