“Absolutely not.” Was the first words Ethan said as the phone connected, voice even as he held his phone in between his shoulder and his neck.

“Well hello to you too, Ethan. Did you get the picture? I’ve already made a deal with them. They’ve given more than enough information about the workings of Team Rocket to have us working for months.” Cynthia’s smug voice oozed out through the speakers, causing Ethan to grimace.

Ethan closed his laptop, stopping his research into creating habitats along his ranch, building with the help of pokemon, and all around self-sustained living. “I don’t care about whatever deals you’ve made. I’m not letting Team Rocket come to stay on my ranch. Their entire purpose was to steal pokemon. Rare pokemon, but pokemon nonetheless. If you’ve forgotten, I have some rare pokemon.”

“You’re also the only person in the region apart from the League who knows them better than anyone else. You yourself said that they weren’t evil, and Looker cross referenced your memories with them. They truly aren’t bad people.”

He had to give it to her, she was trying her best, but nothing was going to convince Ethan to let criminals be around his pokemon.

“Nope, not going to happen.” Ethan leaned back into his chair, bringing his hand up to hold onto the phone to spare his neck the strain. “There is nothing you could give me to make this a reality.”

“Try me.” Cynthia’s tone was testing. She really wanted this for some god knows reason.

Ethan took the phone away from his ear and looked at it like it had grown another head. She wanted to negotiate? There wasn’t much that he wanted, and most of his issues came from both his lack of current wealth and separation from society.

He had plans. Plans to sell milk, berry juice, honey if he could round up some Combee and maybe a Vespiquen from Floaroma Town, but he was nowhere near producing any of those goods yet. Even so, once he had the goods, safety became a priority. Right now, he was coasting off his anonymity, which was already fading away, and his remote location.

Flicking his eyes toward the couch, he spotted Munchlax and Emolga roughhousing with one another during a commercial break from one of the cartoon shows they started watching. One day, they would be put in a position where they had to defend their home… and he didn’t think they were prepared.

And it was partly his fault.

His lack of love for battling was rearing his ugly head, and he wasn’t an idiot. Trouble would come for him and his sooner or later. Whether it be a deranged trainer, a wild pokemon, or worse, something bad was going to happen. It was a miracle he’s made it this far already.

Maybe… maybe he needed to do some training for his pokemon.

“Ethan?” Cynthia’s voice brought him back to the present.

If his pokemon couldn’t defend him or their home for now, he’d need to pick up the slack. “Do Officer Jenny’s have firearms?”

He could hear the surprise in her voice as she responded. “A few in each city would carry some…”

“What kind? Pistols, assault rifles, shotguns?” Ethan asked, tone flat with his eyes locked onto his happy pokemon.

“Are you asking me to give you a gun?” Cynthia was blunt, and there was a steel in her voice, but she was correct.

He was asking for a gun.

“Yes. Where I’m from, everyone had the right to bear arms, myself included. I am no stranger to firearms, and have probably used them more than anyone in the region.” Ethan took a deep breath. “I… am afraid for the safety of my pokemon should someone come along with ill-intentions. People like Team Rocket. I have means to defend myself from simple troublemakers, but there is a limit. My pokemon aren’t strong like yours. I would feel much safer with having a firearm to defend myself and my pokemon should the worst come to pass.”

There was silence on the other side of the line for a while, so Ethan continued. “You’re basically asking me to be witness protection for criminals.” He tore his gaze away from his pokemon as the show resumed and they righted themselves on the couch with eager eyes to watch along. “Jessie and James aren’t pushovers. I would lose in a standard battle. So, I’m not looking to get into a standard battle.”

Still, silence reigned.

“I’m not looking to shoot any pokemon. I’d have better targets… Do you understand what I am saying?” Ethan let that implication hang. He liked pokemon, loved them even. People? Evil people using pokemon for the wrong reasons? Well, he had steeled himself back in the USA for if that day came to pass.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“There… are people with firearms for their protection. With your secluded location, I could make it happen.” Cynthia was hesitant, and he understood.

“If it helps, you can have someone test me for proper safety. All the rounds don’t have to be lethal, though I’d be adamant about having some lethal options on hand. Back home, there were many non-lethal options. Do you have the same thing here?” Ethan asked, offering an olive branch.

“Tranquilizers are common. I believe there are some rubber pellets as well?” He could hear it from her tone. She wasn’t as informed as she’d like to be, but given the topic, he’d give her a pass.

“That would ease my mind.” He took a deep breath, preparing for what he was about to say to the champion of the region. “You need to stop forcing things on me. The battle, I could understand. This? This isn’t right.”

He was firm, airing his grievances. “You need to communicate with me. I am not some random lackey for you to thrust things upon. I am a simple man living in a forest. If you, as the capacity of champion, want to ask things of me, that is fine. Do not make decisions for me. Not ones that threaten the safety of my life or my pokemon. I’ve gone above and beyond for the league by giving you all the information I had. Do not think I will sit here and let you trample over me.”

Ethan doubted anyone had the audacity to speak to her in this way for a long time, but he wasn’t joking around. “Do you understand?”

“I’ll be in touch.”

*Click*

—--------------------------

Cynthia sunk into the cushioned chair of her personal office in Celestic Town, staring at the PokeGear fastened to her wrist with scrunched brows tarnished her normally infallible face.

Idly, she rhythmically tapped her fingertips across the heavy wooden table which held the majority of her personal documents. Many of which contained observations and notes about the ruins of Celestic Town, something she had just been delving into once again after learning about Ethan’s otherworldly knowledge. Palkia, Dialga, Giratina, Arceus… After all this time, stories from the past have begun to take shape.

After sitting in silence for another minute, deep in thought, she came to a disheartening conclusion.

She’s made a mistake. No, not just a mistake. Multiple mistakes.

She’s grown accustomed to the heavy-handedness of bureaucracy, a reality she faces often as Champion of Sinnoh. From implementing regional policies to dealing with league administrators and officials, she’s seen and felt how bureaucracy stifles progress and enforces decisions with little room for nuance. She’s had to become her own authority. Navigating the expectations of those below her, where compromises often feel one-sided and progress moves at a frustratingly slow pace, has changed her.

Red tape had no business when the fate of the region was at stake, and Ethan was the one who gave them the knowledge of what was to come. Not everything he knew was true, but a startling amount of it was. Team Galactic had already begun rooting themselves across Sinnoh, and they had absolutely no clue about them until he came along.

She doesn’t know Ethan. She knew of him, sure. But she didn’t know him. Ethan is a man out of place, who lived in Eterna Forest with his pokemon on a ranch. He is a Move Tutor, a quite good one as well. He has interests in breeding, and she has even given him eggs to care for.

Where is he from? Does he have family? What was it like where he used to live? What was his profession before he found himself in this world? What are his hobbies? What were his goals? What were his childhood dreams? Is he educated?

She had no answers to those questions, yet time and time again she has thrust responsibility upon him, tested him, and arranged things for him without his consent.

He’d done the responsible thing, coming clean about his past and forewarning those he could about what he knew. It was the first thing he ever did. After a year of survival, lost, scared, and alone, the first thing the man did was let others know the threats the world faced… and how did she repay him?

She used her prestige to elevate his Move Tutoring to levels he wasn’t prepared for, forced his very first battle to be versus her, The Champion, and now she’s making decisions to have him watch over the trio of Team Rocket because she was told that Ethan had enjoyed them, even advocated for them in his own way…

When they were fictional characters.

As the door slowly opened, Cynthia flicked her sharp gaze up from the grain of her desk to the equally sharp eyes of her grandmother. Without a word, her grandmother closed the door behind her, then sat down in one of the chairs stationed for the rare meetings she held.

Her grandmother knew her better than anyone, and immediately pressed the issue. “What troubles you?”

The words spilled out of her mouth. She confided her worries, actions, and mistakes and about the man who lived in Eterna Forest. What he’s done for the region, for her, and for the world at large.

Before she knew it, she was done. She’d been speaking for ten minutes without pause, releasing the build up of tension and secrets that were not hers to share.

Her grandmother, Professor Carolina, reached across the desk to place her hand comfortably on her own. "Responsibility.” Her grandmother patted her hand. “Responsibility, Cynthia, isn’t just about strength or knowledge. It’s about understanding the weight of what you hold, the lives you touch, and the respect you show to others along the way. As Champion, your decisions ripple far beyond the battles you win. It’s not enough to lead with power; you must lead with wisdom, care, and an unwavering respect for those who stand beside you and even those who stand against you. People will look to you—Do look to you, not just for your skill, but for the integrity and kindness with which you carry yourself.”

Cynthia closed her eyes as her grandmother continued. “Always remember, true responsibility is measured not by what you achieve, but by how you uplift others, protect what truly matters, and treat everyone with dignity."

Her grandmother’s grip tightened, then she asked a question. “Have you treated this man with respect and the dignity that he deserves?”

Her lack of response was enough of an answer.

“Go.” The warmth of her hand faded away, and Cynthia opened her eyes.

“You know what you need to do.” Her grandmother slowly stood and left the room without another word.

—-------------

Minutes later, Cynthia was high in the sky on the back of Togekiss flying over Mt. Coronet.

She had an apology to make.