The morning sun rose over Viridian City, casting a soft golden glow through Zen's window. Birds chirped outside, and the distant sounds of people beginning their day filled the air.
Zen stretched with a yawn, rubbing his sleepy eyes as he sat up in his small bed at the orphanage. His thoughts were slow, still waking up from the night's rest.
Then he noticed something.
Weedle was already awake.
Usually, the little bug liked to sleep in a little longer, curling up beside Zen for warmth. But today, he was wide awake, not just awake, but strangely active. His tiny body wiggled back and forth excitedly, his beady black eyes filled with energy.
"Weedle?" Zen muttered, tilting his head.
Weedle turned to him and let out a sharp, eager chirp. It was different from his usual sleepy morning noises. Something was strange.
"You look… different today." Zen leaned closer, studying his Pokémon. There was nothing physically wrong—he was still the same small, orange caterpillar well with small horn on his head. But there was something off about the way he moved, the way he acted. Maybe he hungry?
Zen shook his head, deciding not to worry too much about it. "Alright, alright. Let's get some breakfast first."
After breakfast, Zen took Weedle outside. The fresh morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp grass and the faint aroma of food from the marketplace. The orphanage was near the edge of the city, close to a stretch of trees and bushes where Zen sometimes played.
As soon as they stepped outside, Weedle darted ahead.
"Weedle?" Zen called, frowning. "Where are you going?"
The small weedle, wiggling quickly toward the bushes.
Zen hurried after him. "Wait! What's gotten into you?"
Weedle was searching for something. He poked through the leaves, his tiny body wriggling with determination. Zen had never seen him act like this before.
"What are you looking for?" Zen crouched beside him, watching. Of course, they couldn't understand each other's words.
Minutes passed.
Weedle kept searching, moving through the underbrush, checking behind rocks, beneath logs. Zen sighed and sat back, letting his Pokémon do whatever he needed to do.
Then—Weedle froze.
He had found something.
A small, lone mushroom sat in the dirt.
Its cap was deep purple, unlike any mushroom Zen had ever seen before. It clearly looked dangerous , its color standing out against the green and brown of the forest floor.
Weedle stared at the mushroom, his small body tense. His mind flashed back to his dream, the dream where he had eaten a mushroom just like this and gained strength beyond his limits.
He hesitated.
A part of him, deep inside, knew this wasn't the same mushroom from his dream.
His instincts whispered:
Don't eat it.
But then another thought surfaced.
The dream had made him powerful. The dream had made him strong. If this mushroom was even a little like the one in his dream, then maybe, maybe he could finally be more than just a weak little Weedle.
He could be a Pokémon that truly helped Zen.
Zen saw the way Weedle tensed. He saw the way his Pokémon's tiny body leaned forward. And suddenly, he knew.
"Weedle, wait!"
But it was too late.
Weedle lunged forward and took a bite.
The instant the mushroom touched his tongue, his whole body shuddered.
A strange, dark energy pulsed through him, and his orange skin began to darken. Purple veins spread across his body, creeping like cracks in glass.
"Weedle!" Zen screamed, eyes wide in horror.
Weedle let out a weak, strangled chirp, his tiny body trembling violently.
Zen didn't hesitate. He scooped Weedle up in his arms and ran.
He didn't think, he just moved.
His feet pounded against the dirt path as he sprinted back toward the city. His chest burned, his breath came in ragged gasps, but he didn't slow down.
"Weedle, hold on!" he begged.
The Pokémon Center was in sight.
Bursting through the doors, Zen ran straight to the front desk.
"Nurse Joy!" he cried, desperate. "Please! My Weedle he, he ate something, and now—!"
Nurse Joy's eyes widened at the sight of the trembling, purple stained Weedle in Zen's arms. "Oh no! Quickly, give him to me!"
Zen hesitated, his hands didn't want to let go, but he had no choice. He gently handed Weedle to her, watching in fear as she rushed him into the back room.
Zen stood there, his hands shaking, his breath unsteady. His heart pounded in his chest like a drum.
Minutes felt like hours.
Then, finally, Nurse Joy returned.
She held Weedle in her hands. He was weak, his body still trembling slightly, but his color had mostly returned to normal. The antidote had worked.
Zen's relief was instant, but it was quickly replaced by shame.
"What were you thinking?!" Nurse Joy scolded, her voice sharp but worried. "Wild mushrooms can be dangerous! Some can be toxic, even deadly! You should have stopped him!"
Zen's head dropped. "I… I tried…" His voice was barely a whisper.
Nurse Joy sighed, her expression softening. "I know you did, Zen. But you need to be careful. A Pokémon's is a big responsibility."
Zen didn't answer. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. He felt like the worst Trainer in the world.
Weedle had gotten hurt because of him.
Because he wasn't fast enough. Because he wasn't good enough.
He swallowed hard and approached the small examination table where Weedle lay. The little Pokémon's eyes fluttered open weakly, and he let out a soft, tired chirp.
Zen's vision blurred. Tears welled up in his eyes.
"Don't ever do that again," he whispered, his voice shaking. "Please, Weedle… I don't want to lose you…"
A single tear rolled down his cheek, landing on the table.
Weedle blinked slowly, his small body still weak. But he managed a weak nod.
"…Weedle," he chirped softly.
Zen let out a shaky breath. He wiped his eyes and gave a small, watery smile.
Everything was okay.
For now.
But deep inside, he knew
He afraid of losing weedle, losing his friend, losing his.... his
family
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Here are three more chapters for all of you. I hope they are enjoyable!
(^○^)