As soon as we stepped into the first area of the Safari Zone, the thirty or so people who went through the same introductory speeches and form-signing scattered, each heading in a different direction with their own desired pokemon in mind. Considering the price of admission, there were a surprising number of young kids in the group, some alone and some accompanied by their parents. Though, for those who could afford it, I supposed it made sense. What better way to get their first starter than the Safari Zone? The pokemon here were often powerful, they were much more rare and unique than the standard pidgeys, rattatas, or caterpies many youngsters ended up with, and — most importantly — they didn’t require any existing pokemon in order to catch.

“You have any plans for pokemon in the zone?” I asked Seb as the crowd dispersed. “Any area you’re wanting to explore?”

He shrugged, yawning and covering his mouth before he answered. “Nothing super specific, just gonna go with the flow. Got a few pokemon I want to see, but not gonna try and catch anything unless I really vibe with it.”

I frowned. “You mentioned that earlier…what do you mean by that, exactly? Do you not use strategy to build your team?”

“I mean, I guess? There’s definitely pokemon I think are cool or strong. But really clicking with them…that’s much more important than a specific pokemon species.” Seb glanced at me, his half-lidded eyes shadowed by his hat. “It’s about the connection more than anything else — like between you and your dimikyu.”

“Isn’t that just a matter of time, though? I’ve had Hobbes for what’s felt like forever. Of course I have a special connection with him.”

“I guess,” he said with a shrug. “But then I’ve known people who never get that connection with their pokemon, regardless of how long they’ve had them. And those are usually the same people who are most concerned with building the ‘optimal’ fusions and team and all that. In my experience, it never ends well.”

For a couple of seconds there was silence.

“My dad…” he chuckled. “My dad ain’t a battler. At all. Didn’t get a single badge on his journey. But despite hardly ever training for battle…his pokemon are stronger than almost anyone else’s I know. Not gym-leader strong, but way stronger than they have any right to be.” He shrugged. “I’m no expert, obviously. Only have a single badge to my name. But it’s something to think about.” He yawned again. “For now though…I think I see a rock over there calling my name.”

I wasn’t sure how he managed it; it wasn’t like he’d had a particularly strenuous day or anything like that. But thirty seconds after excusing himself and claiming a position leaning against a protruding boulder, hat pulled low over his eyes as the grasses around him swayed gently in the breeze, he was asleep.

I spent close to a minute looking at him incredulously, waiting for him to stop snoring and declare it all a prank, but he never moved. Apparently, he really was that tired from our single battle earlier.

I shook my head — maybe he’d been up at the crack of dawn for a secret training session with his pokemon. I shouldn’t judge. But I still could hardly believe he’d spend so much money on the Safari Zone only to sleep the limited time away.

I had no intention of following his lead. With a halfhearted wave goodbye to his sleeping form, I turned and marched to where the signs marked as the entrance to ‘Area 2’.

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The Safari Zone was an amazing place, and now that I was alone I was able to more fully appreciate its wonders. Almost every pokemon I saw was rare and powerful, and they were easily visible in greater numbers than pokemon could normally be found.

In the wild, there were always caterpie, rattata, pidgeys, and more hiding just out of view, waiting for the unsuspecting human or pokemon to march through their patch of grass or under their tree. But in the Safari Zone there were tangela, golducks, doduos, pinsir, exxegutor, and so many other rare pokemon, all standing tall and unafraid of the humans and dozens of other pokemon wandering amongst them.

Part of their behavior could be attributed to the lack of predators or other threats — none of the pokemon found in the public regions of the Safari Zone were carnivorous. And part of it could be attributed to the rangers I occasionally saw wandering through the areas, pokeballs on their belt and ready to keep the peace. But still, it was an impressive feat, managing to create a harmonious paradise for dozens, if not hundreds, of different pokemon species.

At the entrance to one of the areas I waited in line with a half-dozen other tourists to take my turn to pet a rhyhorn, the rock pokemon placidly munching on stone-looking pellets as the kids and adults rubbed its rock-hard skin. In another area, I collected some feed from a ranger to hold up for a friendly girafarig, the pokemon’s long tongue lapping up the treats and then wrapping around my hand as it searched for more. In a third area I simply wandered, spotting the flash of what I thought might have been a scyther leaping between the branches of the trees like a ninja, gone before I could get a closer look.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Yet even as I walked among the amazing sights, I couldn’t get Seb’s words out of my mind.

If it was any other random trainer I might have dismissed it out of hand. But Seb already had his first badge barely a week into the start of the season. From Koga, no less. And I seriously doubted he’d be a one-and-done like so many other trainers.

Slaking was an insanely strong pokemon, one I’d considered at length for my own team. Slakoth weren’t as rare as some other non-kanto pokemon, and while it would be a struggle to do anything impressive with just the first stage pokemon, a slaking fused with something that could mitigate the downsides of its signature ability, truant…honestly, it was difficult to imagine a stronger non-legendary pokemon.

Yet Seb had already gained his first badge with just slakoth. It didn’t prove his point, but it certainly lent it more weight than it otherwise might have had.

And it wasn’t like I hadn’t considered similar lines of thinking. What was the famous quote…? ‘Weak pokemon, strong pokemon — that is foolish…real trainers should use their favorites.’

Or something like that. It had been a long time since I’d played the Johto games.

It certainly made sense in the anime, where Ash’s bond with pikachu was enough to take on legendary pokemon. Or in the games, where grinding for hours could enable even a rattata to solo the Elite Four.

But this wasn’t a game or tv show. Though it used to be a game for me, it was now my life, and life was rarely so balanced. I found it hard to imagine any scenario where a rattata could land a single blow against a charizard, much less defeat a legendary pokemon, regardless of how long it trained or how much its trainer believed in it.

And yet…I couldn’t completely discount it, either.

Pokemon raised by trainers were typically stronger than their wild counterparts, even discounting the use of battle strategies. The internet was even less reliable a source here than in my old world, yet there were enough accounts of pokemon displaying remarkable feats of power when their trainers were in danger, of overcoming what should have been insurmountable odds, that they couldn’t entirely be dismissed. There were even stories of humans performing similar feats, of using type energy in ways normally restricted to their pokemon.

Was that the result of their bonds with their pokemon? Or just years of dedicated training?

I had no idea. And unfortunately, I also had no idea how I might find out. I supposed I could ask one of the gym leaders, but high-level trainers in this world were notoriously secretive with their training methods. If a gym leader knew the key to strengthening their pokemon and themselves far beyond normal levels, yet weren’t already sharing that key, why would they choose to tell me?

And even if all of Seb’s words were true, it still didn’t explain what it meant to ‘vibe’ with my pokemon. I could believe in the bond between myself and Hobbes — he was my best friend and I loved him like a brother. But if someone asked me how we got to that point…I wasn’t sure how to answer.

Time was obviously a major factor. And we definitely got along great with each other, rarely getting on each others’ nerves despite the hours and hours we spent together every day. But that felt like a consequence of our bond more than it did a cause.

It felt similar to some of my friends in my old life. None of my friendships had been as close as my current bond with Hobbes, but I had a few I would’ve considered family. Yet, if I tried to articulate what made us such close friends, or how exactly we got to that point…I was drawing a blank.

Would the bonds between myself and Porygon or Sableye ever be as strong as my bond with Hobbes? When catching a wild pokemon, how could I possibly know if we had the capacity to — in Seb’s words — ‘vibe.’ It felt similar to knowing which pokemon could fuse with others; though certain scammy infomercials might claim otherwise, aside from ditto there was no guaranteed method of knowing which pokemon could successfully fuse with others. Most agreed that need and the compatibility of the two pokemon — their ‘vibe’ with each other — were part of it…but no one I’d ever talked to could articulate exactly what that meant.

My thoughts chased themselves round and round in circles, even as my feet carried me through the different areas of the Safari Zone. Hours passed as I ambled around, looking at the beautiful scenery and the pokemon that happily called this place their home. Until I was eventually startled from my introspection by a buzzing in my pocket.

“ATTENTION PATRON: YOUR TIME IN THE SAFARI ZONE IS UP. PLEASE RETURN TO THE ENTRANCE.”

The speaker on the side of the buzzer started to repeat the message until I found the small ‘acknowledge’ button on the side and began the walk back to the main entrance. I hadn’t caught any rare pokemon on my short expedition, but I wasn’t too disappointed. I’d enjoyed the afternoon, and while still wasn’t sure what it meant to ‘vibe’ with a wild pokemon, I was fairly sure that I didn’t ‘vibe’ with any of those I’d seen in the different areas.

It wasn’t something I’d noticed until after I’d given Seb’s words some more thought, but one of the things that united all the pokemon in the Safari Zone — in addition to being rare, herbivorous, and well taken care of — was that they were all content.

They lived in a virtual paradise; why wouldn’t they be content? It also explained why I’d seen so few fusions in the Safari Zone. There was no need to fuse, not when they already had everything they could ever need provided for them.

These were not the pokemon who could be persuaded to join me on my adventure.

It took some of the sting out of my ‘wasted’ hours spent wandering, and it further explained why the catch rates in the Safari Zone were so low in the first place. After seeing much of the various areas firsthand, I doubted any of the tourists we entered with would be leaving with new companions.

…which was why it was such a surprise to get back to the entrance and see Seb excitedly waiting for me, newly caught tauros by his side.