Laying there in the grass and relaxing, my attention wandered up and down the path, waiting for telltale signs of travelers. It took longer than I had expected, or perhaps time just felt like it took ages to pass when you were sitting around and just... waiting. The sun had moved enough in the sky to be noticeable, so I estimated it had probably been something like half an hour before I heard the noisy ruckus of footsteps heading down the path. I lifted my head, and spotted a bunch of children even younger than I had expected coming down the road. I thought that they might be bringing teenagers to the pasture, but these looked like grade-schoolers. They couldn't have been more than 8 or 9 all told.

They all carried a notebook with a big logo of the flower Pokémon Roselia on the front, and when they got closer I was able to make out the words "Santalune Trainer's School." The name tickled something in the back of my mind, only vaguely, but I wasn't given time to really process the thought. The kids were all bouncing with excitement, several of which locked stares with me with a cheerful wave and shouts of "Hi Bibi!"

Following at the rear of the group was an old man, and I mean an old man. He had wisps of gray hair atop his head that had been combed around and over to try and poorly conceal his considerably advanced baldness, and he moved along with a cane tapping the dirt beside him with each step. Despite his age, however, he seemed to have kept up with the excited kids without issue. He had an easy-going smile as he looked over the kids, but then his gaze sharpened with a sudden harshness that took me aback when his eyes swept over me. He had dismissed me for only a second or two, before double-taking back at me and looking much more serious.

"Kids, come on, stop running around. Why don't you come over here and let me do a headcount just to make sure we're all here." He called out, but his attention never went to the kids, it remained on me. It almost seemed like a calm way to keep the kids from approaching me too closely, as a few had begun to do before turning back at his call. I offered a wave to try and soothe his vigilance, but it didn't seem to have any effect. Shoot. Mable and me wanted to prank the kids, but to anyone on the outside, it might look like I was trying to deceive them for a more nefarious reason. Rather than risk the old man taking matters into his own hands, I turned around and decided to knock on the door for Mable to deescalate the situation.

A sheen of white energy capped my head as I pushed through the process of Headbutt I had seen Bibarel do when I first arrived. A reverberating banging sounded through the house, and the old man seemed to relax his vigilance slightly at the distant "Coming!" that rang out from inside the house. "Afternoon, Mister Patel." Mable chirped and waved at the old man, who tried to carefully make a gesture in my direction without drawing attention to it for the kids. Mable smiled and offered him a nod in return, and he almost immediately went right back to a kindly old fellow. "Mable, I always tell you, you don't have to call me that. Just call me Seth. Mister Patel was my father."

An eye-roll and a small smile met him in return, as if he had told that same 'joke' over and over again. Now that the teacher wasn't trying to rein in the kids, several had run over to me while the adults were talking, and were being very... friendly. One was patting atop my head, which was fine, but another seemed to insistently want to tug on my ear to get me to look at them, while a third did the same with my other ear. Finally, one of them hugged me from behind and seemed to try to be getting me to drop on all fours so they could ride on my back. Oh boy. This was going to be an experience.

I studiously ignored the provocations, knowing these were just excited kids, though I did swat away the hands that kept yanking at my ears with a gentle push. I was rescued by Mable approaching and calling out, "Alright, who here is ready to see a Butterfree?!" She was immediately met with an overwhelming chorus of "ME! ME! ME!" that all but reverberated through the front lawn. As if disappointed, Mable shook her finger at them, "Well then you all showed up too early! The Metapod haven't quite evolved yet." The group looked confused, and a few were just starting to look sad, before she spoke up again, "So who wants to see a Metapod evolve?!" This time, the shouts of excitement and enthusiasm were even louder. At least she knew how to get them excited.

"Alright, Bibi, why don't you lead them through the house and out back. I'll just have a quick word with Mister Patel, and then I'll be right behind you. Kids! You all need to follow Bibi and make sure you don't wander off! I won't chase you down if you aren't there when the Metapod evolve, and then you'll miss out!" With that warning, I still half expected some of the kids to be more interested in exploring the pasture, but I must have underestimated the appeal of seeing an evolution happening right in front of them. They followed after me as I brought them around to the counter-top out back, where the three Metapod were still laying exactly where they had been left. At least their boring cocoon stage would be ending soon! Honestly, I admired their restraint. I wouldn't want to wait to get my mobility back if I were them.

"Cool..." One of the boys reached out as if to touch the Metapod, and the girl next to him cried out, "No, don't touch it! It's a bug!" "Of course it's a bug. Bugs are cool!" "Nuh-uh. Bugs are gross. Except Butterfree, I guess, but they have pretty wings! Boring, plain bugs are icky!" I sighed, glad that the boy had been interrupted from touching the bugs, and that Mable and the kid's teacher, Mister Patel, were both present now. "Knock it off, kids, everybody can like different Pokémon. Now, climb up onto the stools if you want to see. No touching, but if any of you have PokéGear or brought cameras, you can take pictures. Settle into place everyone."

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Mable took a step forward, and peered down at the Metapod trio, whispering down to them, but since the kids seemed to be just about holding their breath in anticipation, it was clear to everyone listening. "Thank you for holding back. When you feel comfortable, go ahead and evolve!" A few moments passed, and I began to wonder just how awkward it would be if none of the Metapod actually evolved like planned. Before any of the kids could ask about it, though, a light shone on one of the Metapod. Its body lost its hard angles, the green chitin tinging darker and darker into purple. Its lazy, half-lidded eyes opened up into multifaceted red spheres, thin, pale wings expanding widely behind it.

'Free!' It was one of the only times in my memory that a Pokémon's voice matched the words it was shouting, the bug Pokémon seemingly delighted to be able to move. Its wings flapped and it lifted up off the table, circling around overhead in view of the other two Metapod. I wasn't sure if it was trying to encourage them or to taunt them, but almost immediately afterward both remaining Metapod lit up at once, slowly shifting form in the same fashion as the first. A bunch of overlapping "Wooooaaahh...!" voices echoed, though I struggled to share the same enthusiasm. Maybe knowing what it was going to look like or having 'seen' evolution so many times in the past had spoiled the wonder for me.

One girl in a bright yellow dress shot her hand up into the air, waving it back and forth with desperate need to ask a question. "What is it, Annabelle?" Mister Patel pointed his free hand at her in acknowledgement. "Mister Patel, mister Patel! Why does Butterfree look so much like Venonat?" He rubbed a hand on his chin as he contemplated his response. "Where did you see a Venonat? That's not a Pokémon often seen around here." The little girl puffed up her chest, seeming proud. "My big brother showed me a battle he had, and his Venonat managed to beat a Scyther! It was really cool!"

Mister Patel smiled at her enthusiasm, "Well, why do Pidgey look similar to Spearow?" He asked a question in return, but that didn't seem to satisfy the girl, and a few of her classmates shook their heads alongside her. "That's not it! Come on, Venonat looks a lot like Butterfree! Way more than a Pidgey looks like a Spearow!" The old man sighed, and tapped his cane down against the ground. "Alright. Alright! Settle down. I'm only supposed to tell you about facts, so this isn't me teaching you anything true! This is just me telling a story! Got it?" When the group hurriedly nodded as one and showed he had their rapt attention, he leaned back atop his own stool, then spoke.

"Some people think that a long time ago, Venonat and Butterfree might have been part of a shared evolutionary line. After all, people have also said that the body of a matured Venomoth looks rather similar to that of a Metapod, since it keeps the hard angles and edges to its form upon its face. Maybe the two types of Pokémon lived together in harmony, until something happened, and they no longer lined up with each other? We can't fully explain how Pokémon are the way they are, or why they have the changes that they make. The only one who could answer that question would be Arceus." He quipped, and the kids giggled at the remark.

"There are other examples of this, where it seems like Pokémon made odd changes without a reason we can pin down. The simple Magikarp evolves into the intimidating form of Gyarados, changing its color hue from orange and yellow to blue and white. The rare dragon-type, Dragonair, does the inverse for its evolutionary stages. Primarily white and blue, it shifts to orange and yellow when it turns into a Dragonite. Did these Pokémon have a similar relationship as Venonat and Butterfree might? We really don't know. All we can say is that Pokémon do things precisely the way they always have, and all we can do is observe and learn from it."

Mister Patel abruptly lifted his cane, and pointed it directly at me, aiming it right at my face. "Speaking of observation skills, who can tell me what Pokémon this is?" The class all raised their hands, though a few looked confused at the question. "Johnathan." "That's Bibarel, mister Patel!" "Incorrect. Anyone else?" A few hands dropped at that almost immediately, then a few more, until finally none of the hands were left raised. "Really? No more guesses? You, turn around and face them, make it easier." I had been staring at the old man, but at his goading I turned around to look at the class, squirming a bit under the assortment of stares. "I don't think the Bibarel we're used to seeing has a purple nose, now does it?"

As if to settle the point, Mable called out, "Come on over, Bibi!" and the Bibarel wandered out of the house, with his very red nose on prominent display as he stood next to me. "Always be sure what you're looking at! Sometimes the differences might be big, but you never know when the little details will be important on an adventure, and many of you are planning to get your first Pokémon and head out at the end of the school year! It's better to learn this lesson now, before you accidentally trip over a Geodude on a hike! This Pokémon-" He jabbed the cane at me again, which I leapt back from so it didn't hit me in the chest. "Is a Ditto!"

At Mable's nod, I let myself drop the transformation, sinking back down to the ground in front of a bunch of very startled children. Mable picked me up and placed me up on the counter, where the kids could see me more clearly. Well, sorry Butterfree, I didn't exactly mean to steal the show from you. The stunned silence lasted for all of about five more seconds, before an excited yell rose from the kids. I guess I was going to be the star of the next part of the field trip, then.