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Chapter Text

The summer air smelled of salt and wildflowers, carried inland from the Kanto coast. Pallet Town was quiet as always, a small collection of houses tucked between green hills and the glittering sea. It wasn’t the kind of place where anything exciting usually happened, and for most kids, that was just fine. But for Ash Ketchum, excitement was all he ever thought about.

Nine years old, messy-haired, and full of restless energy, Ash sat on the rocky shore with his chin resting on his knees. His sneakers were muddy, his shorts torn at the corner, but he didn’t care. The ocean was wide and endless before him, and every rolling wave seemed to whisper his name.

“One more year,” Ash muttered, drawing circles in the sand with a stick. “Just one more year and I’ll finally get my first Pokémon…”

The words tasted both sweet and bitter. Sweet, because the dream felt so close. Bitter, because a year felt like forever when you were nine.

He pictured it: running to Professor Oak’s lab, standing tall as the Professor handed him a Poké Ball. Maybe he’d get a Charmander. Or maybe a Squirtle. His heart thumped faster just thinking about it. He imagined standing on a mountain with his future partner at his side, staring down a legendary Pokémon like Zapdos or Articuno.

Ash laughed aloud, bouncing to his feet. “Yeah! That’s gonna be me. Ash Ketchum, the greatest Pokémon Trainer in the world!”

The only answer was the cry of a Wingull wheeling overhead.

He sighed and dropped back onto the rock, folding his arms. He wanted adventure now, not later. Everything in Pallet was too quiet, too ordinary. Nothing ever happened here.

That’s when he heard it—the faintest sound, almost lost beneath the crash of the tide.

A splash. Weak. Wrong.

Ash straightened, his ears pricking. He scanned the shoreline, squinting against the glare of the sun. At first he saw nothing but seaweed and driftwood tangled in the foam. But then—there! A flicker of movement, a glimmer of dull scales struggling against the current.

Ash’s heart leapt. “A Pokémon!”

Without hesitation, he jumped down from the rock and splashed into the surf. The water soaked his shoes instantly, but he didn’t care. He waded closer until the shape resolved itself into a small fish Pokémon, its body battered and trembling.

Ash froze, recognizing it.

“A… Feebas?”

He remembered the name from one of Professor Oak’s books. Feebas—the most plain-looking Pokémon in the seas. Its entry had been short and unflattering, describing it as weak, ugly, and barely able to survive without clinging to weeds. Most kids in Pallet laughed when they saw its picture.

But there was nothing funny about the sight before Ash now. The Feebas’s fins were torn, its scales scraped raw, its eyes cloudy with exhaustion. Every shallow gasp made Ash’s chest tighten.

“Oh no… oh no, you’re hurt!” Ash dropped to his knees in the surf, letting the waves lap at his shorts. Carefully, he slid his hands under the Feebas, lifting it from the water. It was lighter than he expected, its body trembling like a leaf in the wind. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you. I’ll help, I promise.”

The Feebas twitched feebly, its gaze flicking to him. Something in its dull eyes—fear, trust, desperation—gripped Ash like nothing ever had before.

For the first time in his life, he wasn’t dreaming of adventure. He was holding one.

“I’ll take you to Professor Oak,” Ash said quickly. He cradled the fish against his chest, as if his warmth could protect it from the world. “Hang on! Just hang on!”

He scrambled up the shore, his shoes squelching with each frantic step. The path to town felt longer than ever, each second stretched by the sound of Feebas’s rasping breaths. Ash’s legs burned, but he didn’t slow.

By the time the red roof of Professor Oak’s lab came into view, Ash was gasping as hard as the Pokémon in his arms. He sprinted up the hill, nearly tripping on the cobblestones, and banged on the door with his elbow.

“Professor! Professor Oak!” His voice cracked. “Help! Please!”

The door opened, and there he was—Professor Samuel Oak, tall and calm as always, his white lab coat fluttering in the breeze. The Professor’s eyes widened when he saw the boy clutching a struggling Pokémon.

“Ash? What on earth—”

“There’s no time!” Ash blurted. He thrust the Feebas forward, his eyes shining with tears. “It’s hurt! You’ve gotta save it!”

Professor Oak’s expression shifted from surprise to sharp focus. He reached out, his hands gentle but firm as he took the Feebas. “Goodness… this little one’s in bad shape. Come inside, quickly!”

Ash followed without question, his heart hammering in his chest. The lab smelled of books, herbs, and the faint hum of machinery. Oak carried the Feebas to a table lined with tools and softly laid it down in a shallow tank of fresh water.

“Stay calm, Ash,” the Professor instructed as he began examining the Pokémon. “You’ve done the right thing. Now let’s see what we can do.”

Ash hovered at his side, fists clenched. The Feebas looked so fragile, its sides heaving with effort. Ash felt helpless, useless. But he refused to look away.

Professor Oak’s hands moved with practiced care, cleaning the wounds, checking its gills, applying a gentle salve to the torn scales. “It seems this Feebas was caught in a strong current… perhaps washed too far from its home waters. It’s dehydrated, malnourished, and exhausted. But…” He glanced at Ash, a faint smile tugging his lips. “It has spirit. It hasn’t given up yet.”

Ash swallowed hard. “Can you save it?”

“I’ll do my best,” Oak said firmly.

Ash pressed closer to the tank, his reflection trembling on the water’s surface. “You hear that? You’re gonna be okay. Just… just stay with us, okay?”

For a moment, he thought he saw the Feebas’s tail flick ever so slightly.

Chapter Text

Morning sunlight poured through the broad windows of Professor Oak’s laboratory, catching the dust motes that swirled like tiny sparks in the air. The place smelled faintly of fresh paper, machine oil, and damp earth from the surrounding fields. Ash sat perched on the edge of a wooden chair, sneakers swinging nervously above the floor, while his gaze kept darting toward the shallow tank across the room.

Inside, the Feebas he had rescued the previous evening floated in gentle circles. Its body, though cleaned and bandaged in places, still bore the marks of its ordeal: dull scales, torn fins, a faint tremor in every movement. Yet it swam, slow but steady, and each flick of its battered tail sent a ripple across the water’s surface. When it turned and its cloudy eyes met Ash’s, the boy felt something tighten in his chest—part relief, part responsibility, and part something he couldn’t name.

Professor Oak closed a folder with a soft snap, drawing Ash’s attention. “Well,” the Professor said, removing his glasses and rubbing them with a cloth, “our patient is stable. Hydration levels are good, breathing steady. It’s going to recover.”

Ash released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Really? That’s great!”

“It is,” Oak agreed, slipping the glasses back on. “But healing is only the first step. This little one will need careful attention if it’s to regain full strength. And that brings us to you, Ash.”

“Me?” Ash straightened, heart thumping.

Oak nodded toward the tank. “That Feebas trusts you. Pokémon often know who saved them, even if we don’t quite understand how. If you’re willing, I’d like you to assist in its recovery. It will be good for the Feebas—and, I think, good for you.”

Ash’s eyes widened. “You mean… I can stay with it?”

“You can help it,” Oak corrected gently. “But that means responsibility. Feeding schedules, water-quality checks, wound care, behavioral observation. Every day, without fail. This isn’t a game. If you accept, you will treat this Feebas not as a passing curiosity, but as a partner who depends on you.”

Ash’s excitement wavered for a heartbeat. He’d imagined racing across fields with a first Pokémon at his side, not cleaning tanks and logging temperatures. But when he looked back at the fragile fish in the water, hesitation melted into determination. “I can do it,” he said firmly. “I will do it.”

The Professor studied him for a long moment, the corners of his mouth softening into a small smile. “Very well. Feebas will remain here at the lab until it’s strong enough for more open water. You’ll assist me every morning and evening. Think of it as a trial run for your future journey.”

Ash grinned despite the knot of nerves in his stomach. “Like training before training!”

“Exactly. And remember, responsibility comes before adventure. Pokémon are partners, not prizes.”

Ash nodded quickly. “I understand.”

“Good. Your first lesson begins now.” Oak moved to a counter lined with jars and measuring instruments. “Let’s start with feeding.”

---

Oak showed him a series of containers filled with carefully labeled pellets and powders. “Feebas require a mixture of nutrients for both health and recovery,” he explained. “Too much protein and you risk stressing the liver. Too little and the fins won’t mend.”

Ash listened, brow furrowed as he repeated the measurements aloud. He’d imagined feeding a Pokémon would be as simple as tossing food into a bowl, but Oak spoke of ratios, timing, and water temperature as if it were an exact science—which, of course, it was.

When it came time to sprinkle the food into the tank, Ash’s hands shook. “Just a pinch,” Oak reminded him. “Even a small imbalance can cloud the water.”

Ash pinched too much, winced, and tried to shake some back into the jar. A few pellets escaped and plopped into the tank anyway. Feebas flinched at the sudden splash.

“Sorry!” Ash whispered, leaning close to the glass. “I’ll get better, I promise.”

Feebas blinked and gave a faint flick of its tail, as if forgiving him.

“Not bad for a first attempt,” Oak said, hiding a smile. “Care requires patience—and practice.”

The next task was cleaning. Oak demonstrated how to siphon a portion of the water without disturbing the patient, then guided Ash through testing pH and salinity. Ash recorded the numbers in a logbook, his handwriting large and uneven but earnest. Each small success—correct measurement, smooth water change—brought a swell of quiet pride.

By the time the morning lesson ended, Ash was damp, tired, and strangely exhilarated. Caring for Feebas wasn’t the thrilling adventure he’d imagined, yet the responsibility felt…right. He touched the glass once more before leaving, and Feebas drifted toward his hand with a soft ripple.

---

The days settled into a steady rhythm. Each morning before breakfast, Ash hurried to the lab to test water, prepare food, and log observations. After school—when other kids played stickball or traded Pokémon cards—he returned to help Oak apply healing salve and practice gentle exercises to strengthen Feebas’s fins.

Sometimes Oak quizzed him on Pokémon biology; sometimes he simply watched, a faint smile hidden behind his clipboard, as boy and Pokémon worked in companionable silence. Ash learned to recognize the subtle signs of fatigue in Feebas’s breathing, the difference between playful flicks and signs of discomfort. He learned that even the plainest Pokémon possessed complexities no textbook could capture.

Feebas, in turn, began to brighten. Its scales, though still patchy, regained a faint sheen. It swam with more confidence, occasionally sending a spray of water over the tank’s edge that left Ash laughing and Oak sighing good-naturedly. Slowly, a quiet trust formed between them—a bond born not of battles, but of shared patience.

Chapter Text

Autumn crept across Pallet Town with a gentler touch than the northern regions. Leaves blushed gold and crimson along the dirt paths, and the air carried the faint tang of woodsmoke from evening fires. For Ash, the changing season meant earlier dusks—and more time in the warm glow of Professor Oak’s lab.

Feebas had grown stronger. Its fins, once frayed, now fanned with cautious grace, and its once-cloudy eyes reflected a shy brightness. Each morning Ash measured salinity and temperature with practiced precision, jotting notes in the logbook with steadier handwriting. Oak had even trusted him to administer a mild vitamin injection, though the Professor had hovered nearby with a watchful gaze.

“Excellent work,” Oak said one evening as Feebas swam lazy circles around the tank. “You’ve come a long way, Ash. So has our patient.”

Ash grinned, chest swelling with pride. “It’s all Feebas! Look how strong you are!” He leaned close to the glass. “Pretty soon you’ll be ready to swim anywhere.”

Feebas flicked its tail and sent a tiny splash toward him, earning a laugh.

But outside the cozy hum of the lab, not everyone shared Ash’s admiration.

---

One breezy afternoon, Ash lingered near the town square after delivering groceries for his mom. A group of older kids lounged by the fountain, their chatter carrying across the cobblestones. Gary Oak, the Professor’s grandson and Ash’s perpetual rival, leaned against a bench, tossing a Poké Ball in one hand.

“Hey, Ashy-boy!” Gary called with a teasing grin. “Heard you’ve been spending more time with Gramps’s tanks than with actual Pokémon battles. What’s the matter, too scared to train a real Pokémon?”

Ash stiffened. “Feebas is a real Pokémon.”

Gary’s smirk widened. “Feebas? That ugly fish? Figures you’d waste your time on something nobody wants.”

The other kids snickered. One girl wrinkled her nose. “I saw a picture once. They’re so plain. Why bother?”

Heat flared in Ash’s chest. He clenched his fists, words tumbling out before he could stop them. “Feebas is amazing! It’s strong and brave and—”

“—and looks like it fell out of the ugly tree?” Gary cut in, earning another round of laughter. “Good luck winning a League with that.”

Ash’s retort died on his tongue. He turned sharply and stalked away, their laughter chasing him down the path.

---

That evening he arrived at the lab with a storm in his chest. Feebas hovered near the surface, sensing his mood. Ash forced a smile as he sprinkled food into the water, but his hands trembled.

“Don’t listen to them,” he muttered, more to himself than to Feebas. “You’re… you’re perfect.”

Feebas swam closer, tilting its head as if questioning him. The faint scars along its scales caught the lamplight, dull but undeniable.

Ash pressed his forehead against the glass. “They don’t know you like I do. They don’t know how hard you fight.”

Feebas let out a soft, watery croak—a sound somewhere between a bubble and a sigh. It drifted back, curling its body slightly, and for a moment Ash wondered if it understood the cruel words echoing in his own mind. Was it embarrassed? Did it know what people said about it?

The thought made his stomach twist.

Professor Oak entered quietly, carrying a clipboard. “Trouble with the locals?” he asked, eyes kind.

Ash started. “I—how did you—”

“I have ears,” Oak said gently. “And I know Gary’s particular brand of teasing. Sit, Ash.”

Reluctantly, Ash obeyed. Oak rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Some Pokémon are judged for their appearance. Feebas is among them. But strength isn’t measured by beauty, nor beauty by strength. Do you believe in this Pokémon?”

Ash looked at the shimmering water where Feebas swam. “Yes,” he said without hesitation.

“Then that belief will matter more than anyone’s opinion,” Oak said softly. “Show the world by example. Let your actions speak.”

Ash nodded, the knot in his chest loosening slightly.

---

From that night on, Ash doubled his efforts. He cleaned the tank with meticulous care, recorded every detail of Feebas’s feeding patterns, and began gentle training sessions with Oak’s supervision. Simple exercises at first: swimming laps, darting between weighted rings, flicking its tail against measured resistance.

Feebas responded with a quiet determination that mirrored Ash’s own. Though its body remained plain and scarred, it attacked each challenge with stubborn persistence. When fatigue set in, Ash encouraged it with bright words and an outstretched hand.

“You’re amazing,” he’d say as Feebas completed another slow lap. “Doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. You’re stronger every day.”

Feebas would pause, eyes meeting his, and give a small flick of its tail that sent a ripple dancing across the surface—a silent answer Ash came to treasure.

---

One blustery afternoon Oak suggested an outdoor exercise. “Fresh air will do wonders,” he said, handing Ash a portable tank with carefully balanced salinity. “Just a short walk to the seaside and back. Let Feebas feel the breeze.”

Ash carried the tank with care down the familiar path to the shore. The sea roared beyond the cliffs, waves capped with foam. He set the tank on a flat rock and knelt beside it. Feebas swam excitedly, gills fluttering at the scent of salt.

“Nice, huh?” Ash grinned. “Soon you’ll be back in water like this—but stronger.”

A sudden rustle behind him made him turn. Gary and two friends emerged from the path, curiosity sharp in their eyes.

“Still babysitting your ugly fish?” Gary drawled.

Ash tightened his grip on the tank. “Leave us alone.”

Gary smirked. “Relax. Just wondering if it can even swim straight.”

Feebas shrank back, fins quivering.

Ash’s jaw set. “Feebas is stronger than you think.”

“Oh yeah?” Gary stepped closer. “Prove it. Let’s see it race one of my Pokémon.”

“No.” Ash’s voice was firm. “It’s still healing.”

Gary shrugged. “Figures. Too weak to even try.”

Something inside Ash snapped. “It’s not weak!” he shouted, startling a nearby flock of Pidgey. “You don’t know anything about Feebas! You only care about looks and battles. Strength isn’t about being flashy—it’s about never giving up!”

The words rang across the shore, carried by the wind. For a heartbeat, even Gary looked surprised. Then he scoffed, turning away with a flick of his wrist. “Whatever you say, Ashy-boy. Waste your time if you want.”

As they disappeared down the path, Ash exhaled shakily. He turned back to the tank, heart pounding. Feebas hovered near the glass, eyes wide.

“They’re wrong,” Ash said, softer now. He pressed a palm against the tank. “You’re amazing. And I’ll prove it with you.”

Feebas gave a small, decisive flick of its tail. A ripple touched Ash’s fingers through the glass—a silent promise returned.

Chapter Text

Winter arrived softly in Pallet Town, dressing the morning grass with silvery frost. The air sharpened with a chill that nipped Ash’s cheeks as he hurried down the familiar dirt path to Professor Oak’s lab. Under his arm he carried a small notebook stuffed with sketches, feeding charts, and awkwardly drawn diagrams—evidence of weeks spent recording Feebas’s every flutter and flick.

Inside, the lab’s tanks glowed with gentle blue light. Feebas swam slow circles, scales glinting faintly in the filtered lamps. It turned toward him the instant he entered, a soft trill bubbling from its throat.

“Morning!” Ash greeted, fogging the glass with his breath. “You ready for today’s training?”

Feebas wiggled in response, as if it knew the word by now.

--

Professor Oak approached with his usual clipboard. “I’ve been reviewing your notes,” he said, flipping a page with an approving hum. “Feebas’s endurance has improved dramatically. I think we can introduce more dynamic exercises.”

Ash’s eyes lit up. “Like what?”

“Precision drills,” Oak explained. “Accuracy, reaction time. Strength is important, but so is coordination. And it may help Feebas discover any latent techniques.”

He guided them to a shallow pool in the corner of the lab—a controlled environment for testing moves. Floating rings of varying sizes bobbed gently on the surface.

“Today,” Oak said, “we’ll see if Feebas can channel its natural instincts. Feebas may not look formidable, but their tenacity allows them to adapt to harsh environments. Let’s see if yours can strike a target with a focused splash.”

Ash knelt beside the pool. “Okay, Feebas. Aim for that ring. You got this!”

Feebas flicked its tail hesitantly, sending a tiny ripple outward. It missed the ring by a wide margin.

“That’s okay!” Ash said quickly. “Try again. Small splash, but stronger this time.”

Feebas tried again. And again. The water danced with ripples, but none reached the target.

Oak watched with patient eyes. “Persistence is the first lesson,” he murmured.

Minutes stretched into nearly an hour. Ash clapped encouragement after every attempt, voice never faltering. “Nice try! Almost! You’re getting closer!”

Finally, with a determined flick, Feebas sent a neat splash through the center of the smallest ring. Ash leapt to his feet, fists pumping. “Yes! You did it!”

Feebas let out a delighted trill, darting excited circles through the water.

Oak smiled faintly. “A small victory, but significant. Remember this, Ash: progress is often measured in quiet steps.”

Ash bent low, grinning. “Hear that, Feebas? You’re amazing.”

Feebas swam up to meet his gaze, eyes shining with something that looked suspiciously like pride.

---

Despite the cold, Ash begged for outdoor sessions whenever the weather allowed. Oak relented with strict guidelines: the portable tank must maintain proper salinity and temperature, and Ash must monitor Feebas’s breathing closely.

One crisp afternoon, Ash carried the tank to the river that fed into the sea. Ice rimmed the edges, but the water flowed steadily. He knelt by the bank and set the tank down, letting Feebas gaze out at the natural current.

“Someday,” Ash said, “we’ll travel all over. You’ll see lakes, oceans, maybe even waterfalls. But we’ll always come back here first.”

Feebas wiggled its fins, pressing close to the glass as if to get nearer to the rushing water.

Ash leaned in conspiratorially. “You know, Gary thinks he’s already the best trainer. But we’re gonna surprise him. We’ll train hard, and when we finally battle—”

His words faltered. A splash upstream drew his attention. A pair of Magikarp flopped near the surface, bright orange against the dark current. They leapt gracefully, tails flashing in the pale sunlight.

Feebas lowered slightly in the tank, gaze fixed on the glittering fish.

Ash followed its stare. “Don’t worry,” he said softly. “You’re just as amazing. You don’t need to shine like them to be special.”

Feebas glanced back at him, eyes wide and uncertain. Ash felt the echo of Oak’s words: strength isn’t measured by beauty. He repeated them silently, willing Feebas to believe.

---

The teasing didn’t stop. Gary’s taunts came in waves—sometimes subtle, sometimes sharp.

“Still raising that mud-colored fish?” he sneered one morning as Ash passed the Oak family garden.

Ash clenched his fists. “Feebas is stronger than you think.”

Gary smirked. “Sure, if you like raising losers.”

Ash opened his mouth to retort, but a quiet gurgle from the portable tank made him pause. Feebas floated near the surface, watching the exchange with calm eyes.

Instead of shouting, Ash crouched beside the tank. “Come on, Feebas,” he said gently. “Let’s get to training.”

Gary called something after them, but Ash didn’t hear. His focus remained on the Pokémon that trusted him enough to stay.

That night, as he logged Feebas’s progress, he added a single sentence in careful handwriting: We don’t have to prove them wrong. We just have to keep going.

---

Weeks later, a rare opportunity arrived. Professor Oak hosted a small gathering for local trainers, a friendly exhibition to share research and celebrate winter’s end. Young Pokémon were invited to demonstrate basic skills.

Ash hesitated when Oak suggested Feebas participate. “But… what if they laugh?”

Oak smiled. “Then we give them something else to talk about.”

The day of the exhibition, Ash stood beside the shallow demonstration pool, heart hammering. Children and adults milled about, some with their own Pokémon. Gary lounged at the edge with a smug grin, his new Eevee perched proudly on his shoulder.

When Oak called their names, Ash stepped forward with Feebas’s tank. Murmurs rippled through the crowd—soft chuckles, curious whispers.

“Today,” Oak announced, “Ash and Feebas will demonstrate precision targeting.”

Ash knelt by the pool, meeting Feebas’s gaze. “Just like we practiced,” he whispered. “You can do this.”

Feebas flicked its tail once, twice. The first splash skimmed the edge of a target ring. A few giggles rose from the crowd.

Ash’s stomach tightened. “It’s okay,” he said quickly. “One more. You’ve got this.”

Feebas narrowed its eyes. With a sudden surge, it sent a perfectly measured splash through the smallest ring, striking dead center.

The pool rippled with the impact. The crowd fell silent—then erupted into surprised applause.

Ash’s grin nearly split his face. “Yes! I knew you could!”

Feebas swam a triumphant circle, scales catching the overhead lights in a fleeting shimmer that looked—just for a heartbeat—like a glimmer of hidden beauty.

Even Gary’s smirk faltered.

---

That evening, as the lab settled into its familiar hum, Ash crouched beside Feebas’s tank, notebook forgotten.

“You were incredible today,” he said softly. “Not because you hit the target—though you totally nailed it—but because you never gave up. No matter what they said.”

Feebas swam to the glass, pressing its forehead lightly against it. Ash pressed his palm to meet it, warmth blooming in his chest despite the cold night outside.

“Someday,” Ash whispered, “they’ll all see what I see.”

Feebas let out a low, musical trill—an answer full of quiet promise.

Chapter Text

The morning sun spilled soft gold across Pallet Town as Ash jogged up the hill to Professor Oak’s ranch, breath puffing in the cool air. The world smelled of damp grass and warm earth. Behind him, sloshing gently in the portable tank, Feebas peered out with curious eyes.

Today wasn’t just another check-in. Today, Oak had promised, they’d train with the other Pokémon on the ranch, a true test of teamwork and adaptability. Ash had hardly slept, too excited to imagine what it might mean for Feebas.

When he arrived, the sprawling property gleamed like a small paradise. Fenced fields stretched under the sky; ponds and streams glittered between patches of wildflowers. Herds of Tauros grazed lazily, Pidgey fluttered from tree to tree, and a few curious Bulbasaur watched from the garden’s edge.

Professor Oak stood near one of the larger ponds, clipboard tucked under one arm, a faint smile creasing his weathered face.

“Good morning, Ash,” he greeted. “And good morning to our aquatic guest.”

Feebas wiggled in greeting, fins fluttering nervously.

“Morning, Professor!” Ash said. “You said Feebas could try training here today?”

“Indeed.” Oak’s gaze softened. “A controlled environment is useful, but it’s time Feebas learned to swim among others, to see, and be seen.”

Ash’s stomach fluttered. “You mean… other Pokémon?”

Oak nodded toward the pond. “Lapras and Squirtle are already waiting. They’ll assist with some exercises. Lapras is gentle, and Squirtle, well—” He chuckled. “Squirtle can be a little bold, but that might be exactly what Feebas needs.”

Ash knelt beside the tank. “Hear that, Feebas? You’re gonna train with Lapras and Squirtle!”

Feebas looked uncertain, tail twitching.

“Don’t worry,” Ash whispered. “I’ll be right here.”

Oak helped him lower the portable tank into the pond, tilting it gently until Feebas slipped free into the open water. The surface rippled once, twice, before settling.

Feebas floated near the shallows, wary eyes darting as Lapras’s shadow loomed nearby; vast, calm, and blue-gray like the sea itself.

Lapras offered a low, melodic hum, a sound that made the water tremble faintly. It wasn’t threatening, more like a greeting.

Squirtle, in contrast, splashed up behind Feebas with an eager grin. “Squir! Squirtle squirt!” it chirped, spraying a light jet of water playfully.

Feebas startled, darting backward.

“Hey, take it easy!” Ash called with a laugh. “Feebas is still getting used to things.”

Squirtle tilted its head, then nodded, muttering a sheepish “squirt.” Lapras gave an approving rumble and glided closer, motion slow and deliberate, like a living island.

Feebas watched, uncertain, before inching forward again. The three Pokémon circled one another in slow, testing arcs.

Over the next hour, Oak guided them through gentle exercises. Squirtle and Lapras demonstrated Water Gun and Ice Beam control while Feebas practiced swimming patterns and accuracy.

“Good posture, Ash,” Oak called. “Keep your voice steady when giving directions. Pokémon respond not just to commands, but to confidence.”

Ash nodded, calling, “Feebas, glide between the rocks — nice and easy!”

Feebas obeyed, though its movements were jerky, tail slapping unevenly. A burst of laughter echoed from nearby, two young girls watching from the fence.

“Clumsy little thing, isn’t it?” one whispered.

Ash heard, though he pretended not to. His jaw tightened. Feebas faltered at the sound, missing its turn and bumping against a rock.

Lapras crooned softly, lowering its head to nudge Feebas upright again. The contact seemed to calm it.

“That’s it,” Oak said quietly beside Ash. “Support comes in many forms. Lapras understands that better than most.”

Ash swallowed hard, nodding. “Feebas… try again, okay? You’ve got this.”

And Feebas did; slowly, shakily, but with visible determination. It weaved through the rocks again, smoother this time, until it emerged at the far end of the pond.

Ash cheered. “You did it! See, you’re amazing!”

Feebas’s eyes gleamed at his praise, tail flicking with renewed energy.

By afternoon, dark clouds had rolled across the horizon. Oak checked his watch. “One more drill before the rain,” he said. “We’ll test reaction time. Lapras will emit a low pulse beneath the surface. Feebas must sense it and respond with its own energy displacement, the goal is harmony, not force.”

Ash frowned slightly. “Energy displacement?”

Oak smiled. “Think of it as rhythm. Pokémon don’t only battle — they resonate with the world around them.”

He gave a signal. Lapras lowered its head, sending out a soft pulse that rippled across the pond. Feebas twitched, startled. Another pulse followed, stronger, steady as a heartbeat.

“Now, Feebas,” Oak instructed. “Try to match it.”

Feebas released a faint tremor in the water, clumsy, out of sync. The wave died quickly.

“Try again,” Ash urged.

Lapras repeated the pulse. Feebas attempted to echo it, but this time its energy burst too sharply, sending ripples scattering in chaotic directions.

The older Pokémon winced, gliding backward.

Feebas sank lower, ashamed.

Ash knelt at the edge, fingers curling into the grass. “It’s okay! Don’t worry about getting it right. Just… feel it. Listen to the rhythm, like a song.”

Feebas blinked up at him, hesitant.

“Let’s do it together,” Ash whispered. “Lapras will hum, and you match the feeling, not the sound. Ready?”

Lapras released another pulse, deeper now, warm and steady. Ash felt it thrumming in his chest, like waves lapping the shore. “Now!”

Feebas’s fins flared. The water glowed faintly blue around its body. This time, the echo came smooth and even, blending perfectly with Lapras’s rhythm.

Oak’s eyes widened. “Fascinating… That resonance pattern—”

But before he could finish, thunder cracked overhead. Fat raindrops began to fall, rippling the pond’s surface.

“Inside, all of you!” Oak shouted.

Ash rushed forward with the tank, calling Feebas back. But just as he reached the edge, a jagged bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, striking a distant tree. The thunderclap that followed sent Squirtle diving under the water and Feebas flinching violently.

The wave that surged from Feebas’s body shimmered — brighter than before; and for an instant, Ash saw the water itself bend light in strange ways, reflecting the lightning’s glow back into the storm.

Then, just as suddenly, it vanished.

Oak blinked rain from his lashes. “Did you see that?”

Ash, soaked and breathless, nodded. “What was that?”

Oak looked thoughtful. “Something new… something reactive.”

Chapter Text

The storm passed in the night, leaving the morning world washed and bright. Water beaded on every leaf and shimmered along the fences of Oak’s ranch. The air was crisp and clean, but the memory of lightning still lingered, crackling faintly in Ash’s chest as he hurried back to the pond.

Professor Oak stood at the edge already, hands clasped behind his back. “Good timing,” he said when Ash approached. “Feebas is doing well. You should see this.”

Ash ran the last few steps, nearly skidding on the damp grass. Feebas floated near the surface, scales dull brown under the morning light, but faint traces of pale energy flickered occasionally along its body, like sunlight breaking through clouds underwater.

Ash knelt. “Hey, buddy… you okay?”

Feebas turned, eyes wide and tired but bright. It gave a low gurgle that sent a tiny pulse through the water.

Oak smiled faintly. “Even after the storm, Feebas remained calm. It’s… stabilizing. I’d wager what we saw last night wasn’t random.”

Ash’s eyes widened. “You mean that light? It was a move?”

“Possibly. Something reactive, triggered by the flash of lightning. A form of counter energy, perhaps—reflective rather than aggressive.” He crouched down, peering into the water. “Feebas has absorbed more than we realized from these resonance drills.”

Feebas trilled softly, unsure of the praise.

Ash leaned close, smiling. “You were amazing last night. I knew you could do something special.”

Oak straightened, brushing rainwater from his coat. “If we can understand that reaction, it might mark the next stage of Feebas’s development. But control will be key.” His eyes met Ash’s. “Would you like to help me test it?”

Ash’s answer was instant. “Yes!”

Oak called for assistance, and soon Lapras and Squirtle joined them again. The air buzzed faintly with tension—the storm’s memory had touched every living thing. Lapras’s shell gleamed with droplets, and Squirtle’s usual swagger seemed muted.

“Today,” Oak said, “we’ll attempt controlled energy deflection. Squirtle, you’ll use Water Gun at quarter strength. Lapras, maintain a harmonic pulse beneath the surface. Feebas, try to listen to that rhythm and respond as you did yesterday. Ash, focus your guidance on steady breathing and timing.”

Ash nodded, heart pounding. “Got it.”

Feebas hovered in the shallows, tail twitching. Lapras closed its eyes and released a low hum that rippled across the pond—gentle, resonant, deep. The sound seemed to sink into Ash’s ribs.

“Now, Squirtle,” Oak directed.

“Squirt!” Squirtle puffed its cheeks and fired a narrow jet of water. It struck Feebas squarely—but instead of flinching, Feebas glowed faintly blue for a split second, then nothing.

Ash winced. “You okay, Feebas?”

Feebas shook itself off, unharmed but confused. Oak adjusted his glasses. “Again, Squirtle—but slower.”

The second Water Gun came more gently. This time, the glow along Feebas’s scales pulsed longer, rippling in time with Lapras’s hum. The water refracted light around Feebas in a brief, shimmering veil—then dispersed.

Oak’s eyes lit up. “There! Did you see it? It’s reflecting—not repelling—the energy. Like a mirror made of water.”

Ash’s grin spread. “Mirror… Coat.”

Oak looked at him, surprised, then smiled. “Fitting name, wouldn’t you say?”

Ash laughed breathlessly. “Feebas! You just used Mirror Coat!”

Feebas tilted its head, clearly not understanding, but trilled proudly at the sound of Ash’s excitement.

---

For hours they practiced. The first attempts fizzled or came out too strong, sending harmless splashes in all directions. But little by little, Feebas began to feel the pulse of energy in its fins; learning to shape it, not fight it.

Ash crouched at the edge of the pond, hands cupped around his mouth. “Okay, Feebas! Remember—listen, then reflect!”

Lapras hummed its guiding tone again, steady as a heartbeat. Squirtle launched another Water Gun, but this time Feebas’s scales flashed in answer, a gleam like rippling glass. The jet of water split against an invisible shield, refracting into a spray of harmless mist.

Ash whooped. “You did it! You really did it!”

Feebas floated backward, fins trembling, but its eyes shone brighter than ever.

Professor Oak clapped once. “Impressive progress. You’re forming not only a countermeasure but a controlled energy return. This ability could serve as both defense and lesson in balance.”

“Balance?” Ash repeated.

“Indeed.” Oak’s tone softened. “To reflect another’s force, one must first accept it fully, not resist in fear. It’s a lesson many trainers spend years learning.”

Ash looked down at Feebas, heart swelling. “I think we’re both learning that.”

---

But mastery didn’t come easily. The next few days brought frustration. Feebas could summon Mirror Coat only inconsistently, sometimes with dazzling success, sometimes not at all. Each failure left it trembling, scales dimming to a muddy hue.

Ash kept his voice bright, but the cracks showed. “It’s okay! We’ll get it next time!”

One afternoon, after another failed session, Feebas sank to the bottom of the pond, refusing to move. The water lay still. Lapras hummed a low, soothing note, but Feebas didn’t respond.

Ash’s chest ached. He waded in up to his knees, ignoring the chill, and crouched low. “Hey… it’s okay. You don’t have to get it perfect right away.”

Feebas stared up at him, expression unreadable. Its reflection wavered in the water between them, muddy, broken by ripples.

Ash hesitated, then whispered, “You know, people used to say I’d never be a good trainer. That I was too impatient, too clumsy, too… ordinary.” He smiled faintly. “Maybe we’re kind of the same, huh?”

For a long moment, there was only the sound of the wind.

Then Feebas rose, slow and steady, until its eyes met his. A faint pulse rippled through the water, gentle and uncertain, but real.

Ash grinned. “That’s it. We just keep trying.”

---

The next morning dawned bright and clear. Oak was waiting with his usual clipboard, but there was a spark of anticipation in his eyes. “Let’s push one step further,” he said. “We’ll simulate real combat pressure. Lapras will create waves, Squirtle will strike at unpredictable intervals. The goal isn’t perfection, it’s adaptation.”

Ash’s pulse quickened. “We’re ready.”

The pond stirred as Lapras began to circle, generating rolling waves that lapped at the shore. Squirtle darted between them, firing short bursts of water. Feebas weaved through the turbulence, trying to time its energy to the rhythm of the waves.

“Good! Stay calm!” Ash called. “Wait for it! now!”

Feebas’s body shimmered faintly, but the reflection collapsed. The next blast from Squirtle hit cleanly, sending it tumbling backward.

Ash’s heart clenched. “Feebas!”

Feebas floated dazed, then shook itself and dove back in. Again and again it tried, glimmers flashing and dying, until its motions slowed to exhaustion.

Lapras let out a low, mournful hum, sensing its distress.

Ash’s voice cracked. “Come on, Feebas, I know you can do this! You just have to—” He stopped, chest heaving. He saw the look in Feebas’s eyes: fear. Not of the water, not of pain. But of failing him.

He dropped to his knees, palms pressed to the grass. “Hey. Look at me.”

Feebas turned toward his voice.

“You don’t have to prove anything,” Ash said softly. “You’re already enough. You’ve always been enough.”

For a long moment, nothing moved. Then, slowly, Feebas lifted its fins and closed its eyes. Lapras’s hum deepened. Squirtle hesitated mid-attack.

A stillness settled over the pond.

The next wave struck—bigger, heavier—but this time Feebas’s body lit up from within, a prism of blue and silver. The water curved around it like glass. The incoming force rebounded in a perfect sphere of light that burst outward, scattering the waves into a thousand glittering fragments.

The mist hung in the air, refracting sunlight into rainbows.

Ash stood frozen, mouth open. “Feebas…”

Oak’s voice was quiet but full of awe. “Mirror Coat—complete form. It absorbed the attack, balanced it, and returned the energy harmlessly.”

Feebas hovered in the glowing water, breathing hard, but its eyes were alive with wonder.

Ash splashed into the pond, laughing. “You did it! You really did it!”

Feebas swam up to meet him, letting its head rest briefly against his hand. The glow faded slowly, leaving behind only calm ripples and a sense of quiet pride.

---

That evening, as sunset bled gold and violet across the sky, Oak joined Ash by the pond. Feebas floated lazily, exhausted but content. Lapras and Squirtle rested nearby, basking in the fading warmth.

Oak broke the silence. “You’ve both grown remarkably in such a short time. Mirror Coat isn’t an easy ability to master. It requires acceptance and composure; traits rare in both Pokémon and trainers your age.”

Ash looked up at him, a little shy. “I just didn’t want Feebas to feel… small.”

Oak smiled. “And that is exactly why it succeeded. You believed in it, even when it didn’t believe in itself. In return, it reflected that belief back to you.”

Ash watched the pond, where Feebas’s reflection shimmered beside his own. “We learned it together.”

Oak nodded, eyes warm. “Remember this lesson, Ash. Power isn’t born from pride, it’s born from understanding.”

Feebas let out a small, contented trill, and Ash laughed softly. “Yeah,” he said, “we understand each other now.”