The sun dipped low by the time they finished restocking at the Pokémart. Dex had managed to buy potions, snacks, and a suspiciously off-brand Pokédoll that looked like a Drowzee wearing lipstick. He didn't ask. He just quietly stuffed it into his bag while the cashier gave him the universal 'you're weird but I'm paid minimum wage' look.
Outside, Charmander was balancing on a bench, pretending to be a statue. Nidoran♀ was busy intimidating a Pidgey that had landed too close to her spot on the sidewalk. Dex took a long sip of his drink and sighed.
"Alright," he said. "We survived our first trainer battle, our first town visit, and Nidoran hasn't killed anyone. Yet. I call that a win."
Nidoran gave a sweet, toothy smile. The Pidgey took off like it had seen Arceus Himself.
"What's next?" Charmander asked, hopping down.
"Route 2," Dex said. "Then Pewter City. Maybe we'll meet Brock. He's supposed to be one of the chill ones."
Charmander raised a brow. "You sure you're ready to take on a Gym Leader?"
Dex shrugged. "I've got a confident rodent and a snarky lizard. What could go wrong?"
Cue ominous thunder.
They left Viridian behind, following the dirt path of Route 2. The trees grew thicker here, lining the road like a parade of leafy spectators. Bugs buzzed. A kid in a bucket hat ran by yelling about Caterpie. Dex had never felt more like he was in a video game—and yet, weirdly, more real than ever.
Nidoran trotted at his side, occasionally bumping into him like a cat demanding attention. Dex scratched her behind the ears, and she made a pleased noise.
"You know," he said, "this is kind of nice. Just walking. Not being chased. Not being electrocuted."
Charmander immediately tripped over a rock and landed face-first.
"Spoke too soon," Dex muttered.
They camped near the edge of the forest, close enough to the path to feel safe, but far enough to avoid the stampede of children yelling about Weedle.
As night fell, they set up camp with a small fire. Charmander happily handled that duty, tail flames doing double-duty as matches. Nidoran curled up beside Dex again, her head resting on his thigh like it belonged there. Which, apparently, it now did.
Dex stared into the fire. "So, question. What happens if I meet another Ditto?"
Charmander grunted. "You probably make out by accident. Isn't that your species' entire greeting system?"
"I—what? No!"
Nidoran didn't even look up. "I'd kill it."
Dex blinked. "Why?"
"Only one goo blob gets to cuddle me to sleep."
Dex's cheeks warmed. "Th-that's not— I mean I'm not—"
Charmander threw a marshmallow at him. "Just accept it, man. You're the team heartthrob. Somehow."
"Somehow?" Dex repeated.
Charmander shrugged. "You're emotionally available and squishy. That's a rare combo."
Dex lay back, eyes on the stars. He had questions—about himself, about this world, about what the hell he was doing pretending to be a real trainer when he was just a Ditto with anxiety and bad flirting skills.
But for tonight, under the stars, with a warm Nidoran purring against his side and a fire crackling nearby…
He could pretend he belonged.
He could pretend he was winning.
And maybe, just maybe…
He already was.