The orphanage sat on the outskirts of Viridian City, surrounded by a worn-down fence and a small patch of greenery. The place wasn't terrible, kind caretakers, other kids to play with, but Zen had always felt out of place.

At six years old, he was quiet, preferring to watch the world rather than take part in it. Some kids in the orphanage dreamed of becoming Pokémon Trainers, talking about catching their first Pokémon and traveling the world. Zen liked the idea but never tell anyone about it.

His parents had died when he was just a baby. No one knew the details, only that one day, they were gone, leaving him alone in this world.

It didn't make him sad, not exactly. More than anything, it made him feel... empty.

That was, until the day he found the injured Weedle.

One morning, while wandering near the fence, he heard a faint whimpering sound. His small legs carried him toward the noise, and when he pushed aside a few leaves, he saw it.

A Weedle.

Its tiny, segmented body was scratched up, its yellow-brown carapace cracked in places. Its large black eyes looked dull, and its pink nose spike twitched weakly.

Zen hesitated. He wasn't a Trainer. He didn't even know how to handle a Pokémon properly. But as he looked into the struggling creature's eyes, something inside him told him he couldn't just leave it there.

He knelt down. "Hey, little guy," he whispered. "Are you okay?"

The Weedle twitched but didn't move.

Zen glanced around. What should he do? Taking it back to the orphanage wasn't an option, Miss Clara, the caretaker, didn't like wild Pokémon near the kids.

Then he remembered the Pokémon Center in the city.

With careful hands, he took off his small jacket and wrapped the Weedle in it. The Pokémon trembled but didn't resist.

"I'll take you to Nurse Joy," he promised.

And with that, he ran.

Zen ran through the streets of Viridian, his breath coming in gasps. People gave him strange looks as he clutched his bundled-up jacket, but he didn't care.

The Pokémon Center wasn't far, just a few blocks away. When he finally reached the glass doors, they slid open with a soft whoosh, revealing the bright interior.

Inside, a few Trainers sat waiting with their Pokémon. The air smelled of antiseptic and something calming, maybe berries?

Zen rushed to the counter. Nurse Joy looked up in surprise.

"Miss, please! This Weedle, it's hurt!" Zen gasped.

Nurse Joy's expression softened immediately. She leaned over the counter, gently taking the bundle from his arms. "You did the right thing bringing it here," she said. "We'll take care of it."

Zen stepped back, watching as Chansey, the round pink Pokémon, appeared and carried Weedle into the backroom.

Now all he could do was wait.

Zen sat on one of the plastic chairs, swinging his legs. His heart pounded. What if the Weedle was too injured? What if he had been too late?

Minutes stretched into an hour.

Finally, Nurse Joy returned, smiling.

"The Weedle is stable now," she said. "It had a few scratches, but nothing serious. It just needed some rest and care."

Zen let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Can I see it?" he asked.

Nurse Joy nodded. "Follow me."

She led him into a small room, where the Weedle lay on a soft cushion, looking much better. When it saw Zen, its black eyes widened slightly.

Zen hesitated. "Hey, little guy. Feeling better?"

The Weedle let out a small, weak chirp.

Something in Zen's chest warmed.

Nurse Joy smiled. "Him seems to like you."

Zen's fingers curled at his sides. "I... don't even know him. I just found him near the orphanage."

"Well, Pokémon sometimes choose their partners, even before a Trainer has a Poké Ball," Nurse Joy said kindly.

Zen blinked. "You mean…?"

Nurse Joy chuckled. "You'd need to catch him properly, but yes. If Weedle wants to stay with you, then why not?"

Zen turned back to the small Bug-type. It was staring up at him, as if waiting.

He didn't have a Poké Ball. He didn't have experience. But… he had saved Weedle.

Maybe this was fate.

Slowly, Zen reached out. "Do you want to stay with me?"

The Weedle chirped again and, to his surprise, crawled onto his arm.

Zen's heart skipped a beat.

A small smile tugged at his lips. For the first time, he didn't feel so alone.