Cynthia glanced down at her newly acquired clothing.

  The pants, too loose at the waist, threatened to slip lower with every shift, and the paper-thin fabric of the shirt did little to shield her from the lingering chill of the forest. It left her feeling oddly exposed, but at least it was better than before.

  Warmer, too.

  Which, honestly, was the most important part.

  "Thanks," Cynthia mumbled, tugging the waistband into place with a frown.

  "No problem. You looked like you needed them more than me." The boy shrugged. "Though, not sure how much good they'll do. They aren't exactly in tip-top shape anymore."

  Cynthia looked up at him, ready to agree, only to freeze.

  It wasn't the fact that he was standing there in just his boxers. No, her attention was squarely on his physique. At first, she hadn't noticed, too caught up in her own embarrassment. But now, as she took him in, the realization hit like a punch to the gut.

  He was scrawny.

  No, scrawny wasn't right. That was too weak a word.

  He was malnourished.

  Cynthia's stomach twisted.

  When she first saw him, even with his clothing more rags than cloth, she had assumed he was like her, someone who had just wandered too deep into the forest and lost their way.

  But he didn't look like that.

  He didn't look like somebody lost.

  He looked like he belonged here.

  "Yeah, sorry about," he waved vaguely at himself, gesturing at his half-dressed state, "all this. Not exactly much to look at anymore." He cracked a lopsided grin. "But I swear, I used to have muscles."

  Cynthia stared. Opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

  She was usually better at human interaction. Honestly. Freezing half to death had to have fried her last functional brain cell.

  Her eyes drifted downward before she could stop herself, properly taking in just how thin he actually was. Without the loose, hanging clothes, it was impossible to ignore, ribs jutting out, arms wiry instead of strong, like someone who had burned through every reserve and just kept going anyway.

  Her gaze lingered on a scar near his hip, faded but still fresh-looking.

  He coughed.

  Cynthia's gaze snapped back up, only to find him staring at her with an uneasy grin, cheeks dusted pink, like he wasn't sure whether to be flattered or mortified.

  "Eyes up here, please,” he said, voice tinged with forced lightness.

  Heat exploded across Cynthia's face.

  "No, I wasn't-!" She turned away so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash, brain scrambling for something, anything, to say. When she came up empty, she just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

  "You, uh… aren't going to get cold?"

  The boy blinked, then tilted his head slightly, as if considering the question for the first time.

  "Oh, that? Nah." He shrugged. "I'm kinda used to it by now."

  Cynthia almost let out a sigh of relief at the averted disaster.

  But…

  She stilled.

  He was used to it.

  Used to walking around half-naked? In the cold?

  That wasn't the answer of someone trying to reassure her.

  That was the answer of someone who meant it.

  The implications settled uncomfortably in her gut.

  She glanced at him again, the way he rubbed absentmindedly at his arms, the way his ribs jutted out, the way he didn't even shiver despite the biting air.

  For a second, she almost asked. Almost pressed him for an explanation. But she bit her tongue at the last second.

  As curious as she was, she had a feeling it would be a long story.

  And….

  She shivered as another cold breeze swept through the clearing, just strong enough to send the embers of her former fire flickering back to life.

  It was only going to get colder.

  "So," the boy spoke up, tucking his hands into his armpits for warmth, "you coming or what? My place might not be five-star, but at least the wind won't kill us. Or, well, you know, the flesh-eating Nincada."

  Cynthia stared at him, then looked around the clearing.

  "Are you serious?"

  The boy gave her an uneasy smile. "Not really. Pretty sure we can survive the wind."

  The wind whooshed by.

  She wasn't going to lie, she had never packed her things that fast in her life. In mere moments she had stuffed everything into a lumpy bundle, smashed it into her backpack and slung it over her shoulders, wincing as the wet chill seeping through.

  "Ok, ready, lets get out of here." She said, motioning for Queenie to get off the ground.

  The boy let out an impressed whistle.

  "Great. Now, if you could keep up, maybe Rei won't try to kill me for being out without her."

  He took off before explaining what he meant.

  "Hey, wait up!" Cynthia said, taking off after him.

  As she ran, she found herself glancing at his back, at the way he moved, like someone who knew this forest inside and out.

  How long had he been here?

  ………………

  Cynthia didn't consider herself to be in bad shape. She was a trainer, after all, and it was rare to find a trainer who wasn't at least somewhat fit.

  But next to him?

  She felt like a Machamp.

  He panted, forcing his legs into a steady rhythm, each step looking more like an exercise in stubbornness than actual running. Honestly, if he knew sprinting at the start would drain him this fast, he should've just stuck to a jog.

  "We could take a rest…" Cynthia started, slowing slightly, only for the boy to turn back toward her, eyes bloodshot and glassy.

  "No."

  He panted.

  "We."

  He coughed.

  "Are."

  He stumbled.

  "Late."

  Late for what? Cynthia frowned, but before she could ask, he pushed forward again, staggering like a newborn Ponyta learning how to walk. She shot Queenie a look, and the Gabite, who had been keeping pace effortlessly, tilted her head, concern creeping into her usually sharp gaze.

  "Yeah, I think he might be in trouble too," Cynthia muttered.

  Still, she couldn't deny that picking up the pace was probably a good idea. Her hands had long since lost feeling, the tips of her fingers aching as the cold gnawed at her skin. Even her breath felt sharp, each inhale like swallowing tiny shards of ice.

  Yeah. Maybe hurrying up wasn't the worst idea.

  ….

  They pushed forward for only a few more minutes before the forest changed, thinning out to reveal an area where rock jutted from the ground in uneven patches, grass and moss clinging stubbornly to the cracks. The sudden openness after the dense trees caught Cynthia off guard, and she nearly walked straight into the boy when he came to an abrupt stop.

  "Fuck." He mumbled.

  "Why did you stop?" She asked, using the stop to catch her breath. "Are we here?"

  He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he tilted his head back, staring at the sky as the sun arced downwards. For a long, dramatic moment, he simply stood there, eyes closed, arms lifting slightly, as if basking in some unseen warmth.

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  Cynthia raised an eyebrow.

  "What… are you doing?"

  "I am using my last moments on this earth," he intoned, voice thick with conviction, "to worship the sun."

  She blinked.

  "…Huh?"

  "BUNNEARY!"

  The furious cry rang through the clearing, and before Cynthia could react, something small and fast slammed into the boy with enough force to send him crashing into her.

  A strangled gasp tore from her throat as they both almost hit the ground. Instead she felt herself land in the waiting arms of her partner. Queenie, to her credit, barely flinched, catching their combined weight.

  Then she unceremoniously dropped them both anyway.

  Cynthia groaned, shoving herself up onto her elbows, breath still knocked out of her.

  The boy, meanwhile, gasped dramatically from where he lay sprawled on his back. "Rei," he wheezed. "You wound me."

  Cynthia pushed herself upright, shaking off the daze, and turned to face the source of the sneak attack.

  A Buneary stood in front of them, ears puffed up in pure, unfiltered rage. Its foot tapped against the ground impatiently, fur bristling, cheeks puffed out as if it were prepared to personally end his entire bloodline.

  It was, quite possibly, the least intimidating thing Cynthia had ever seen.

  A laugh bubbled up before she could stop it, breathless and light. Rei was just… impossibly, ridiculously cute. Even with all its fury, the tiny Pokémon looked like an angry plush toy.

  The boy groaned, dragging himself into a sitting position. "Rei is just a little overzealous," he muttered, rubbing the spot where he'd been tackled.

  The Buneary huffed, turning its glare toward Cynthia.

  Cynthia blinked. "Uh… hi?"

  Rei narrowed its eyes.

  Before Cynthia could figure out what to do with that, a low sigh drifted through the trees.

  Cynthia tensed.

  The sound was soft, barely more than a breath, but something about it made her skin prickle. Her instincts stirred, warning her before she even turned her head.

  The shadows shifted.

  Half a dozen Buneary stood at the treeline, watching. They were smaller than Rei, their wide eyes filled with quiet curiosity. But it wasn't them that caught her attention, it was the figure standing just behind them.

  A Lopunny.

  A shiny Lopunny.

  It was the largest Cynthia had ever seen, shiny or otherwise. Its fur was immaculate, almost glowing under the rising sunlight.

  It was beautiful.

  It was also strong.

  Cynthia felt her breath catch in her throat as its presence pressed against the clearing, silent but heavy.

  Like a physical weight.

  Even Queenie hesitated and Cynthia saw her partner shift, muscles tensing as she took half a step back, closer to her trainer.

  Cynthia inhaled sharply, forcing herself to stay still.

  Her grandmother had warned her, some wild Pokémon are stronger than trained ones. Cynthia had nodded at the time, listened and then filed it away. She knew that, it was common sense after all. But now, standing in front of this Lopunny, she felt it.

  She had a sinking suspicion that if this came down to a fight, even with her entire team deployed, she wouldn't be walking away the winner.

  For a long moment, the Lopunny simply studied her.

  Cynthia swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how she must have looked, half-frozen, wearing clothes that weren't hers, barely keeping it together. She looked like a mess, not an up-and-coming trainer prodigy.

  It all was enough to make her feel like… like…

  Cynthia rejected that thought.

  Instead, she dug her nails into her palm, the sharp pain snapping her focus back. She forced herself to glare, willing herself less…

  Whatever she looked like right now.

  Then, finally, the Lopunny let out another soft sigh.

  It turned its gaze toward the boy.

  "Oh, Lopunny, you came to get me too?" The boy said sheepishly, as if he hadn't just been thrown to the ground by a furious Buneary.

  Cynthia risked a glance at him.

  He was still sitting in the dirt, grinning sheepishly, but there was something softer in his expression now. Her brain suddenly connected it, his relaxed demeanour, the way the Buneary hadn't actually hurt him.

  Cynthia exhaled slowly, willing herself to relax, even as her frozen limbs protested. She forced a smile, tight, awkward, but a smile nonetheless.

  "Hi?" she tried again.

  The Lopunny regarded her for a moment longer.

  Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, it turned and walked away.

  Cynthia shot the boy a look, but he was already moving, standing up as if nothing had happened.

  With a quiet breath, she followed.

  ….

  "You were worried? About Lopunny?" The boy asked, sounding like he couldn't believe his ears.

  Cynthia shot him a sharp look, as she tried to absorb as much heat from the small fire as possible. Sure, they might be sitting at the entrance of the cave, far away from the Lopunny, but the Pokémon was famous for its hearing.

  For all that the boy seemed to think he was in no danger, wild Pokémon were wild Pokémon. They were unused to humans, and even the fact it allowed him to live here wi….

  Cynthia let out a sigh.

  "Honestly, I was," she mumbled, poking the fire with a stick. "But maybe it's just the entire day making me paranoid. I guess it's fine, considering it's allowed you to live with its children."

  The boy didn't answer right away. Instead, he mumbled to himself, eyes still fixed on the fire. "I think she sees me as something similar."

  Cynthia glanced deeper into the cave, catching a glimpse of one of the younger Buneary. "What do you mean by that?"

  He was quiet for a moment, his gaze flickering toward the mouth of the cave. Outside, the forest stretched in peaceful golden light. When he spoke again, his voice was softer than before.

  "I woke up in a cave not that far from here." He said.

  Cynthia stilled at the complete non-sequitur.

  Her hand froze mid poke, the stick still lodged in the fire. The heat from the flames felt distant, as if the world itself had pulled away from her for that one moment. Her mind, for a brief second, was back on the question she had avoided earlier today: how had he ended up here?

  She leaned forward slightly, her voice soft with a quiet curiosity. "You… woke up?"

  His eyes didn't leave the fire. The distant look in them spoke of something far deeper than mere confusion. "Yeah. I didn't know where I was, who I was, or even how I got there." His lips twisted into a wry smile, though it lacked any trace of humour. "Just woke up, cold, with no memories to speak of. No name, no history. Nothing."

  He paused for a moment, "No, that's not even true," he added, voice quieter now. "I remember things. For a while I felt like I was going crazy, knowing all this stuff and having no clue who I was."

  He raised a hand, letting the firelight dance over it.

  "Rei found me first. And I think she sort of took pity on me, dragged me back to her home, vouching for me to stay the night. When I saw all the small ones, I honestly thought Lopunny would chase me off, but she didn't. She just sat me down, handed me an Oran Berry, and started a fire. Like she was some kind of neighborhood mom, not someone who could kick away a small mountain."

  Cynthia stared at him, speechless.

  "That's incredible," She finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  "Well, it's been pretty nice, on behalf of the whole, me-not-being-dead thing."

  Cynthia's mouth went dry as she processed what he'd just said. Her mind spun with a thousand questions. For many Pokémon, the idea of adopting someone like that wasn't unheard of, there were even cases of Chansey, Audino, and even an Arcanine adopting humans.

  But a Lopunny?

  "No, I mean," she said, standing up, her gaze sharp, "what do you know about Lopunnys?"

  The boy shrugged. "About as much as everybody else, their Normal type, a fast physical attacker that evolves by friendship."

  Cynthia's eyes glittered with a renewed intensity, some energy returning to her via the heat of the fire. She leaned forwards, feeling a surge of excitement.

  "And they're also known for being incredibly distrustful. It's theorized they form tight-knit families, because they instinctively reject outsiders." Her voice grew more animated as she thought through the implications of what he'd said. "But you-"

  She stopped, her thoughts snapping into place. Something he'd said clicked in her mind.

  "You said they evolve how?"