The egg had been glowing faintly since midnight. Miyuki had noticed during one of her scheduled checks, the blue scales pulsing with internal light, temperature rising steadily. She'd immediately moved the incubation chamber to the suite's common area, set up monitoring equipment, and sent alerts to the others.
Now, at seven AM, they gathered around the breakfast table while Sasuke cooked, all of them watching the egg with varying degrees of anticipation. The glow had intensified over the past hour, light visible even in daylight streaming through windows.
"How long?" Kasumi asked, unable to sit still.
"Could be minutes, could be hours." Miyuki checked her tablet for the hundredth time. "Neural activity spiked overnight. Shell integrity decreased to twelve percent. All indicators say today, but hatching doesn't follow strict schedules."
The egg pulsed brighter. A hairline crack appeared near the top, spreading slowly.
"Everyone sit down and be quiet," Miyuki ordered. "Hatching is stressful for the Pokemon. Excessive noise or movement can complicate the process."
They obeyed immediately, settling into positions around the egg. Sasuke abandoned cooking, joining them at the table. Victini hopped from his shoulder to get closer, flames dimmed to minimal presence, even the Fire-type understood the moment's significance.
Another crack appeared. Then another. The blue scales began separating, light streaming through gaps. The egg rocked slightly, movement from inside pushing outward.
Miyuki's hands trembled. She clasped them together, forcing steadiness. This was it, weeks of care, constant monitoring, careful temperature regulation, all culminating in this moment. Her first Pokemon raised from egg to hatching. If something went wrong,
"It'll be fine," Sasuke said quietly, reading her anxiety. "You've done everything right."
The egg rocked harder. More cracks spread, creating spiderweb patterns across the shell. The light had become nearly blinding, forcing them to squint. Then, with sudden violence, the top half of the shell exploded outward.
A small blue head emerged, blinking against sudden brightness.
Bagon.
The Dragon-type was tiny, maybe thirty centimeters tall, compact and muscular even in infancy. Its blue scales gleamed with residual egg fluid. Dark eyes blinked rapidly, adjusting to the world beyond its shell. The signature head structure was already prominent, rock-hard skull designed for ramming, evolutionary remnant from ancestors who fought through headbutting.
The Bagon pulled itself free of the remaining shell with clumsy determination. It tumbled onto the padded surface Miyuki had prepared, legs tangling, clearly uncertain how to coordinate four limbs. It lay there for a moment, breathing hard from exertion.
Then it looked directly at Miyuki.
Their eyes met, golden and dark, human and Pokemon. Something passed between them, recognition that transcended species. The Bagon had imprinted, identifying the first face it saw as parent, protector, source of safety in a suddenly vast world.
"Hi there," Miyuki whispered, voice thick with emotion. "Welcome."
The Bagon made a sound, half-chirp, half-growl, surprisingly deep for something so small. It struggled to its feet, legs shaking, and took one wobbly step toward her. Then another. Its coordination was terrible, movements uncontrolled, but determination was absolute.
Miyuki extended her hands. The Bagon reached her, pressed its head against her palms. Warm, solid, real. Living Pokemon she'd cared for from mysterious egg to this moment.
Tears fell before she could stop them. Silent crying, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of responsibility and joy. This Pokemon depended on her completely, for food, safety, training, everything. And she'd accepted that responsibility the moment Shaymin had brought her the abandoned egg.
"Hey, you're okay," the Bagon seemed to say through its continued chirping, nuzzling against her hands.
Shaymin appeared beside the new arrival, examining it critically. The Grass-type had been protective of the egg throughout incubation, guarding it, keeping temperature stable, refusing to leave its side. Now it sniffed the Bagon carefully, then chirped approval. New team member accepted.
The Bagon turned to Shaymin, tilted its head curiously. The two Pokemon studied each other for a long moment. Then the Bagon tried to headbutt Shaymin, not aggressively, just testing. Shaymin easily dodged, chittering what might have been amusement.
"That's Shaymin," Miyuki said, finding her voice. "Your teammate. Be nice."
The Bagon looked at her, then back at Shaymin, processing the relationship. It chirped again, this time sounding almost apologetic.
"Can we hold it?" Kasumi asked quietly.
"Carefully. Bagon are sturdy, but it's less than an hour old." Miyuki gently scooped up the Dragon-type, cradling it like an infant. "Support the head, it's heavy relative to body size. And watch for sudden movements. Bagon instinct is to headbutt everything."
She passed the Pokemon to Kasumi first. The Bagon tensed initially, uncertain about the transfer. But Kasumi held it securely, murmuring reassurances, and it relaxed. Small claws gripped her arm, not painfully but firmly, holding on while adjusting to new person.
"It's so strong already," Kasumi marveled. "I can feel the muscle tone. What do you feed this thing?"
"High-protein diet," Miyuki said, already pulling up nutrition plans on her tablet. "Bagon metabolize calories incredibly fast. They're preparing for evolution to Shelgon, which requires massive energy reserves. I'll need specialized Pokemon food, protein supplements, mineral additives for scale development."
Kasumi passed the Bagon to Kiyomi, who examined it with researcher's fascination. "Prehistoric species, barely changed from fossil records. Look at the skull density, you can already see the reinforced bone structure. This is what Dragon-types looked like millions of years ago."
The Bagon seemed to enjoy the attention, chirping contentedly as Kiyomi traced the scale patterns. But its eyes kept returning to Miyuki, checking her location, ensuring she hadn't left. Imprint bonding was powerful, especially in the first hours.
Kiyomi handed it to Sasuke last. The Bagon's expression changed immediately, intensely focused, almost aggressive. It studied Sasuke with unwavering attention, small body tensing.
"It can sense you're a strong trainer," Miyuki explained. "Bagon are competitive by nature. It's evaluating you as potential rival or mentor."
The Bagon suddenly lunged forward, trying to headbutt Sasuke's chest. The attack had no force behind it, baby Pokemon with minimal strength. But the intent was clear: testing, measuring, establishing hierarchy.
Sasuke caught the Bagon gently, holding it at arm's length. "Easy. I'm not your opponent. I'm Miyuki's friend. That makes us allies."
The Bagon considered this, tilted its head. Then it chirped, different tone than before, perhaps acceptance. It relaxed in Sasuke's grip, no longer hostile.
"Good instincts," Sasuke said, returning it to Miyuki. "Already knows to test strangers. That'll serve it well."
Miyuki accepted her Pokemon back, feeling its weight settle against her chest. The Bagon immediately calmed, tucking its head under her chin. Safe with its mother figure.
"Name?" Kasumi prompted. "You've been calling it 'the egg' for two weeks. Now it needs proper identification."
Miyuki had considered this extensively. Bagon would eventually evolve into Salamence, powerful Dragon/Flying type, aerial predator, one of the pseudo-legendaries. The name needed to fit all stages while honoring the species' nature.
"Let's stick with Ryu," she decided. "It means dragon. Simple but appropriate."
The Bagon, Ryu, chirped approval. Or maybe it was just responding to her voice. Hard to tell with a Pokemon less than an hour old.
They spent the morning establishing Ryu's care routine. Miyuki mixed the first meal, specialized formula designed for newborn Dragon-types, high in protein and minerals. Ryu attacked the food with enthusiasm, eating until its small belly visibly distended. Then it immediately tried to run around the suite, burning off energy with clumsy enthusiasm.
"Characteristic Bagon behavior," Miyuki said, chasing after it to prevent collision with furniture. "They're constantly active, trying to fly despite lacking wings. It's instinctive, they dream of evolution into Salamence."
Ryu proved this immediately by attempting to leap off the couch. Miyuki caught it mid-flight, heart racing. "No! Ground level only until you have proper coordination."
Ryu looked disappointed but accepted the restriction. It settled for headbutting the couch instead, repeatedly, testing its skull against the furniture's resistance.
"This is going to be exhausting," Miyuki said, already looking tired.
"I'll help with meal preparation," Sasuke offered. "High-protein diet requires proper cooking. Raw ingredients won't provide optimal nutrition."
They moved to the kitchen, Ryu following Miyuki like a shadow. The Dragon-type refused to let her out of sight, climbing her legs when she stopped moving, demanding constant physical contact. Imprint bonding at its most intense.
Sasuke pulled out ingredients, premium cuts of meat, fish rich in oils, eggs, protein powder designed for growing Pokemon. "Bagon need approximately their body weight in protein daily during first month. That's roughly five kilograms of food per day for Ryu's current size."
"Where did you learn that?"
"My Dad has a Salamence." He began preparing a meal, seared meat with nutritional additives, perfectly balanced for Dragon-type metabolism. "The first month is critical. Proper nutrition now determines evolution potential later."
They worked together, Sasuke cooking while Miyuki monitored Ryu's behavior. The Dragon-type had discovered Victini, who'd been watching from a safe distance. Ryu approached the Fire-type cautiously, then suddenly tried to headbutt it.
Victini dodged easily. It flew in a circle around Ryu, clearly playing. The Bagon tried to follow, spinning until it fell over dizzy. Victini landed beside it, offered a gentle flame to help it up.
"Victini's good with young Pokemon," Sasuke observed. "It helped train several of my team members."
"Ryu could use a mentor besides me." Miyuki watched the interaction. "Victini's patient enough to handle Bagon's energy."
They finished the meal, several portions, each optimized for different nutrients. Sasuke plated one, brought it to Ryu. The Bagon approached cautiously, sniffed the food, then looked at Miyuki for permission.
"It's okay. Sasuke made this for you."
Ryu ate eagerly, demolishing the meal in under a minute. Then it looked at Sasuke with something approaching respect. Food provider held special significance in Pokemon social hierarchy.
"You've been adopted," Miyuki said with slight smile. "Ryu sees you as secondary parent figure."
"I'm just helping with meals."
"To a newborn Pokemon, food provision equals love." She watched Ryu waddle over to Sasuke, headbutt his leg gently, affection, not challenge. "It's already bonding with you."
Sasuke reached down, scratched behind Ryu's head. The Dragon-type leaned into the touch, eyes closing contentedly. "I don't mind helping raise it. Watching Pokemon grow from infancy is educational."
"And you're good with it," Miyuki said softly. "Patient, understanding its needs, providing structure without being harsh. That's rare."
Their eyes met across the kitchen. Moment stretched, charged with something unspoken. Kasumi and Kiyomi's earlier teasing about "parent figures" suddenly felt less like joke and more like observation.
"Awww," Kasumi's voice from the doorway. "Look at the little family. Mom, dad, and baby dragon."
Miyuki's face flushed. "We're not, I mean, he's just helping!"
"Very domestic," Kiyomi added, appearing beside Kasumi with her camera. "Should I document this for posterity? 'The moment they realized they were co-parenting?'"
"Stop," Miyuki said, but her voice lacked force.
Sasuke had turned back to cooking, deliberately not engaging with the teasing.
Ryu, oblivious to human social dynamics, had discovered its reflection in the oven door. It headbutted the glass repeatedly, clearly believing another Bagon had appeared as challenger.
"Ryu, no!" Miyuki rescued her Pokemon from the appliance. "That's you. Not a rival."
The Dragon-type looked confused but accepted the explanation. It settled in Miyuki's arms, yawning widely. The excitement of hatching, eating, and exploring had exhausted it. Within minutes, Ryu was asleep, small body going limp with trust that it was safe.
Miyuki carried it to a prepared nest, padded area with heat lamp, designed specifically for young Dragon-types. She set Ryu down gently, covered it with a soft blanket. The Pokemon didn't wake, just snuggled deeper into warmth.
"First day complete," she said quietly. "Tomorrow we start actual training, coordination exercises, social bonding, basic commands. But today was just about surviving hatching and eating enough."
"You did well," Sasuke said. "Ryu's healthy, active, clearly bonded with you. That's success."
"We did well," Miyuki corrected. "Your meals were perfect, Ryu ate everything without digestive issues. That's harder than it sounds with newborn Pokemon."
They stood together watching Ryu sleep, both aware of Kasumi and Kiyomi observing from the living room with knowing expressions. The teasing would continue, probably intensify now that they'd established co-parenting routine.
But looking at the sleeping Bagon, Miyuki found she didn't mind the implications. Working with Sasuke on this felt natural, comfortable, right. They coordinated without speaking, anticipated each other's needs, functioned as unit rather than separate individuals.
Maybe that meant something.
Maybe it meant everything.
But for now, they had a Dragon-type to raise, a journey to continue, and badges to earn.
The rest could wait.
Ryu chirped in its sleep, dreaming of flight it wouldn't achieve for years. But someday, with proper care, training, and partnership, this small blue Dragon would soar.
Miyuki would make sure of it.
They both would.