Chapter Text
The sun hung low over the rolling hills, painting the farm and the green land in a soft amber light as the morning sun was just beginning to come out of her hiding place. Milo, ever the calm farmer, stood by the fence, his arms resting on the weathered wood as his eyes scanned the horizon. The fresh breeze rustling through the tall grass.
At this time of day, it usually brought him a sense of peace, with the way the wind gently swayed through the fields – it was the part of farm life he loved the most. That and just getting to focus purely on his own tasks at hand, something that kept him grounded from the busy stardom of being the grass type gym leader. It had started off fairly easy, with letting the herd out onto the open field, before then tending to the plants inside the greenhouse. Usually, his mother would be in charge of that but with both his parents already gone out to deliver a few products to Hammerlocke, both he and his younger brother would have to juggle a few extra tasks on their end. Nothing they couldn’t handle together.
Speaking of, “Milo! I’m going out to feed the Mudbrays now,” he said, just barely leaning into the greenhouse tent as he was already on his way to the Mudbrays. “Be careful!” Milo shouted after him, while he was still young he couldn’t handle much heavy lifting but it settled down to just enough to have him in charge of feeding some of the Pokémon.
With a quick stretch, Milo got out of the tent and headed straight on his way back to the herd on the open field. A few of their new additions to their herd still acted quite stubborn so it was important to keep an eye on those especially so that they wouldn’t break the fence down and escape.
He sighed, putting his arms back on the fence as his gaze wandered across the herd. Just then, as he counted them all once more in his head, did he notice something off. The new additions of wooloo all had blue dots on their fur, due to their former seller, and as he scanned them one by one, he noticed that one Wooloo was missing. Not just any Wooloo – her . Which he should have expected, seeing as that one in particular had always found a way to wander off when nobody kept an eye on her.
With an exhale, Milo straightened, pushing off from the fence and jumping over it into the field. The knot in his stomach tightened as he scanned the line of the wooden fence, to see if anything had been broken. Unfortunately for him, he did fail to account for the open gate, it being unlatched. He should have seen that, innerly facepalming himself as he quickly got to pulling it closed. Lucky enough to have only one wooloo escape.
“Not again,” he muttered under his breath, already stepping into the tall grass that stretched out towards the hills, besides the fenced in area. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, “Wooloo! Where’d you go, girl?!” The only answer he got back was the soft rustling of the wind as it swept through the fields. If he was completely honest with himself, he should have paid more attention. Between tending the crops, dealing with the never-ending paperwork for both the farm and gym, and keeping up appearances as a Gym Leader, could he really be blamed for letting things slip through his cracks every once in a while.
The day’s heat was fading, but a different kind of pressure gnawed at him, the kind that had been building for months. Every time he put on that sodding Gym leader’s uniform and smiled for the cameras, it felt like the ground under his feet got a little less steady. He wiped the sweat from his brow, cursing himself for getting distracted, not even being able to keep track of one little Wooloo.
As if on cue, a voice called from behind him. “You lose something, Milo?”
The farmer boy turned, startled to say the least. Kabu, the old Fire-type Gym leader, had been jogging up the path, his usual calm smile tugging at the corners of his face. He slowed to a stop next to Milo, his breathing coming out steady despite the run. Milo had seen him passing by occasionally, either on morning runs or in the evening, but today he wished he’d gone unnoticed. Milo gave off a sheepish smile, an awkward one at best, “Yeah, just one of the Wooloo again,” getting out of the grass to come eye to eye with the fire gym leader, “She’s got a knack for slipping away when I’m not paying attention.”
Kabu chuckled softly, “Seems like she knows exactly when to make a run for it.” he joked, to which Milo could only slightly manage a grin as he was still a bit on edge of things. Fortunately for him, Kabu had taken notice of that as well, “Mind if I help you look?” he asked the next, catching Milo’s attention.
He hesitated for a moment. He was used to handling things on his own – the farm, the gym, all of it. But the weight of everything lately had been heavier than he cared to admit, even to himself. After a bit, he nodded.
“I’d appreciate it,” he said quietly, “I’ll just have to let my brother know” and with that, the farm boy hastily moved forward to inform his little brother of the current situation, knowing him, he wouldn’t be all too happy about one wooloo having broken out either. But rest assured, Milo would be able to bring it back. Hopefully.
The two set off by the side, through the fields, the tall grass brushing their legs as the sky above them showed no clouds present. For a while, they walked in silence, the only sound being the occasional chirp of a Rookidee hidden somewhere in the trees. Milo found himself grateful for Kabu’s immediate response to help him, having been hesitant at first, but even now with his quiet presence did he find that it had been the best to have him come along as there was just something about the older man’s serenity that settled the edges of his frayed nerves, even if just for a moment.
“So,” Kabu began after a stretch of silence, his tone light but curious, “How’s life treating you? Haven’t seen you down at the league in a while.” Milo bit his lip, keeping his eyes on the ground ahead as he had dreaded for that question to rise up. Especially with the many excuses he makes at missing out on important meetings.
“Busy, I guess. The farm’s been taking up a lot of time. It’s hard balancing the two, you know? Gym leader by day, farmer by.. Well, every other hour.” The man of fire nodded along, listening intently to his friend. He could only chuckle along at how he felt about it in a similar way, “It’s no easy feat, being pulled in two directions like that.”
Milo’s smile began to pick up again, the momentary worry gone as he chuckled, “Sometimes feels like I’m being pulled apart.” Kabu remained vigilant off that, but saying nothing for the moment as the two cut paths past a few houses before then getting back on track, following footprints of the wooloo which were clear as day visible in the ground.
“You know,” Kabu started up once again, “I’ve always admired how you manage to keep both going. The farm and the gym. It’s no small thing, what you’re doing.” The compliment was heavy in his ears. He appreciated it but something inside him twitched at the words. Admire? He wasn’t so sure he deserved that. From the outside, it might’ve looked like he was holding everything together, but inside, it felt like things were slipping through his fingers faster than he could catch them.
“It’s harder than it looks.” he muttered, finally admitting for some part to the worry eating at him. And also adding more to Kabu’s theory of what might plague him. “Sometimes I think… I don’t know, maybe I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.”
Kabu looked over at him, his eyes narrowing in concern. “What do you mean?”
Milo didn’t answer right away. He kicked a loose stone along the path, watching it tumble and disappear into the grass. He wasn’t so sure how to say it – or if he even wanted to. But there was something about Kabu that made it hard to keep his guard up. Didn’t matter if he had known him since he was a kid, or that he was one of the eldest gym leaders. It just didn’t sit right with Milo to let himself appear vulnerable.
“I guess I just feel .. lost sometimes,” Milo said, his voice quieter now. “Like, I love this farm. It’s been in my family forever. This land, the pokémon.. They’re a part of me. But with the gym, the battles, the fans, the constant attention–” he stopped himself, shaking his head. “I don’t know If I’m built for it, Kabu. The spotlight. It feels like it’s too much sometimes.”
Kabu’s expression softened as they walked side by side, the gloomy eyes of his friend feeling so foreign to him, as if he couldn’t recognize the usual joyous farmer boy in him, “I think more people feel that way than you realise,” he responded, his voice calm yet edged with wisdom he had harnessed. “Even those who seem to thrive in it.”
Milo glanced at him, “You ever feel that way?”
Kabu chuckled under his breath. “More than once. I’ve been doing this a long time, Milo. When I first became a Gym leader, the pressure felt like a weight I couldn’t carry. There were days I thought about walking away from it. But the thing I learned is you don’t have to let the spotlight define you. It’s just one part of what we do. You decide how much space it takes up in your life.” Milo glanced at him, surprised to say the least. He’d always seen Kabu as so composed, so sure of himself even as a child. It was hard to imagine otherwise, yet he let
those words sink in. He wanted to believe it, but lately, it felt like the spotlight was swallowing everything else – his time, his energy, his sense of self. He’d once been able to balance the farm and the gym, but now, it was like neither was getting the best of him.
The two moved through a smaller forested area with Trees aligned at the sides, it was also at this that Milo had to take a break, both from the endless search that seemed to stretch on through the entire land, and for his own soul. He settled down on a rock, taking his sun hat off as he let his head lay in his hand.
“I just don’t know if I’m doing any of it right,” Milo admitted, his voice rougher than he intended. “I’m so worried about letting the farm fall apart, but I don’t feel like I can let the gym go, either. People expect me to be this strong, capable leader but –”
Kabu was silent for a moment, his eyes scanning the horizon. Before then letting his hand rest on Milo’s shoulder, kneeling down in front of him to get his attention, successfully. “That’s the thing about expectations,” he said after a long pause. “They can either guide you, or they can trap you. You’ve got to figure out which ones are really yours – and which ones don’t matter in the end.” He thought about that for a moment, though before Milo could even reply, the sound of a faint bleat drifted through the air, carried by the breeze. The two instantly directed their heads to where the sound drifted from.
“Did you hear that?” Milo asked, perking up as he got up from the stone. Kabu nodded accordingly, a smile tugging at his lips. They quickened their pace, following the soft bleat through the bushes until they reached the edge of a small hill. There, just below, caught in a tangled patch of brambles, was the runaway Wooloo. The poor creature was bleating helplessly, its leg and wool stuck in thorny branches.
Milo let out a sweet breath of relief, he didn’t know he had been holding in. His earlier worry and concerns all washed away like that as he had finally found the missing Pokémon. He knelt down beside the Wooloo, his large hands moving to carefully untangle it from the thorns. As he worked, he whispered gently to the creature, his voice soothing as if he was speaking to a dear friend rather than a Pokémon.
“Got yourself stuck again, huh? Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
The Wooloo gave a soft, pitiful bleat, calming under Milo’s gentle touch. He carefully untangled her wool and leg from the thorns, mindful not to pull too hard. The Pokémon had stopped struggling, completely trusting Milo. When he finally freed her, he lifted the Pokémon into his arms, cradling it against his chest, something inside him loosened. He looked down at the wooloo, its soft, wide eyes gazing up at him trustingly, and for a moment, the weight of everything didn’t seem so crushing.
Kabu watched silently, his expression softening, eyes flicking between the two as if understanding far more than what was in front of him. “See?” He said, “You didn’t need to find her alone.”
Milo turned, meeting Kabu’s gaze, for a bit, neither of them spoke. Kabu’s words hung in the air like the gentle morning breeze – soft but impossible to ignore. He blinked, feeling that familiar tightness in his chest ease, ever so slightly. He wasn’t just talking about the Wooloo.
Milo sighed, but this time it felt lighter, like some of the weight had eased, “I guess we all get lost sometimes, don’t we?” He stroked the Wooloo’s soft wool absentmindedly, the rhythmic motion of his hand helping to calm the tangle of emotions inside the Pokémon. With the Wooloo still nestled safely in his arms, they started walking back toward the farm.
This time though, they talked more openly, joking around and laughing as Milo could finally let the momentary stress go that had been eating him whole. As they crossed the fence, the rays of sunlight shined brightly onto him. Feeling something inside shift, it wasn’t a grand revelation, not yet. But it was a start.