When do people usually feel like they've grown up?
Graduation? Falling in love? Or the first ti they receive a paycheck after starting work?
For Natsu, the first ti he realized he’d grown up was when he noticed that the older sisters and aunts in those easily captivating "big truck crushing little pony" stories were now younger than him.
In that mont, he didn’t just feel like he’d grown up—he felt old.
Nowadays, Natsu’s realization of maturity often ca with the need to keep certain things private. Not everything could be shared so openly.
And with that, he felt like he’d grown just a little more.
Though he also felt a little more exhausted.
Right now, several Pokémon were gathered in front of him, all staring at him with expectant eyes.
It hadn’t even been half an hour since the idea of entering battles with his Pokémon first occurred to Natsu, but already the entire farm knew about it.
“That big-mouthed Corviknight.”
When it ca to spreading information, Corviknight was practically on par with the neighborhood gossip crew. The bird had single-handedly spread the news far and wide—impressively, without even exaggerating it.
“Should I actually praise it for not twisting the facts?”
Covering his face, Natsu wasn’t sure whether to be angry or amused.
Though he’d intended to share the news with everyone eventually, the sudden reveal still caught him off guard.
Now, gathered in front of him were not only Pokémon genuinely interested in battling but also a few with their own ulterior motives.
There was the diligent, battle-loving shiny Furret; Gardevoir, eager to prove her worth; Gallade, dragged along by Gardevoir; the shiny Pidgeotto, hoping to curry favor with Natsu for extra Pokéblocks; and a curious Mudkip, who didn’t seem to understand much but wanted to join in anyway.
And, of course, Zorua—here to stir up trouble—and Corviknight, looking guilty but still reporting for duty.
Faced with their eager eyes, Natsu sighed and said:
“Don’t get too excited. We’re not entering any battles just yet.”
“If you’re interested, let know. When the ti cos, I’ll make sure to tell everyone.”
Once he finished speaking, the gathered Pokémon muttered among themselves before dispersing.
But not before each of them brushed against Natsu, one after another, as though marking him—or maybe just being affectionate.
“You look like you’re having a great ti watching the show, don’t you?”
Natsu grabbed Zorua by the scruff of the neck just as the mischievous Pokémon was about to sneak away after giving him a playful nuzzle.
With Corviknight still adjusting to its evolved form and unable to fly smoothly, Natsu doubted it could have spread the news so quickly without help.
He was sure Zorua had played a part.
“Zor?”
Tilting its head and sticking out its tongue, Zorua gave him an innocent look.
What are you talking about? I don’t understand a thing! I’m just a sweet, innocent little fox, incapable of such sches!
“You, my little troublemaker, might have what it takes to beco a follower of Aha.”
Natsu ruffled Zorua’s fur until it was a complete ss, then casually tossed the Pokémon aside as if it were a cat.
Zorua landed nimbly, twisting in midair to execute a perfect landing.
Anyone who’s ever had a cat would recognize this move. After playing with their cat, they’d often toss it gently to the floor, knowing the cat would land just fine.
But dogs? That’s a different story. A dog would face-plant in a disaster of flailing limbs.
A word of advice to anyone with both cats and dogs: be careful.
A cat might forgive you after a treat, but a dog? You’ll be footing so hefty vet bills.
“Zor.”
Shaking its head, Zorua shot Natsu a sassy go eat dirt look before scampering off, its short legs moving in a zigzag to avoid any further attacks.
Just as Natsu’s foot swung toward its retreating backside, Zorua dodged with precision, leaving his kick to hit empty air.
Its quick reflexes saved its butt from disaster.
You think you can kick ? Dream on, buddy. Go eat dirt back there!
With its zigzagging “serpentine” moves, Zorua quickly disappeared from sight. Perhaps it was off to its favorite sunbathing spot—or maybe looking for other Pokémon to scam with its usual spiel:
“Listen, I’m not saying you’re bad, but your technique needs work. Give so Pokéblocks, and I’ll teach you a thing or two.”
Despite sounding like a con artist, Zorua was undoubtedly skilled. Many Pokémon on the farm willingly offered up their Pokéblocks in exchange for its advice.
Skipping a few treats was no big deal—they could always try other flavors later.
But the chance to improve their skills? That was priceless.
Because if you missed the opportunity to grow stronger, you might just end up... lying around.
And there’s nothing more infuriating than watching soone laze about happily while you struggle.
It’s like when people say:
I’m not jealous if you have a girlfriend. I’m fine on my own.
I’m not jealous if you’re rich. I’m getting by just fine.
I’m not jealous if you’re successful. So people are just destined for greatness.
But if you’re lying around carefree while I’m struggling?
Now I’m jealous, you jerk!
“This little rascal…”
Watching Zorua disappear, Natsu sighed in exasperation.
It was a great Pokémon—just a bit too mischievous.
“Let’s go, Corviknight. Help move these boxes.”
Natsu gave Corviknight a kick, nudging it forward as he picked up a box of miscellaneous items.
“You talk too much, so now you’ve got work to do.”
“Caw!”
I’m on it, boss!
The oversized bird hopped along behind Natsu, looking like a wind-up toy as it waddled forward with its peculiar, bobbing gait.
“Caw?”
So, what are we doing now?
“To pick up the gifts. Your figurine has arrived.”
“Caw!”
Gifts!
At the word “gifts,” Corviknight’s excitent surged. It instinctively spread its wings—only to knock over the box in Natsu’s hands, almost toppling him in the process.
Turning stiffly to look at the ss it had caused, Corviknight froze, realizing its mistake.
Well, looks like I’m getting scolded again today.
Reviews
All reviews (0)