Shion stood frozen.
In front of him, the roundest Bidoof he had ever seen waddled across the grass as his little sister Miya and her friends chased after it, giggling with glee. The Pokémon huffed and puffed with each sluggish step, its short legs barely lifting its pudgy body off the ground.
And it was still talking.
"Unhand me, tiny humans! Do I look like a chew toy to you?! Ugh, my fur—do you know how long it takes to get this clean with paws?!"
Shion slapped his own cheek with a sharp smack.
A moment of silence.
Then a burning pain spread across his face. "Ow—gah!"
He staggered, clutching his now-swollen cheek.
Nope. Still awake.
Still hearing a Pokémon speak fluent, if somewhat dramatic, Common Tongue.
He watched, wide-eyed, as the Bidoof was rolled onto its back by a laughing boy. It flailed its stumpy limbs and let out a high-pitched squeal.
"This is humiliating! You're lucky I've taken a vow of non-violence toward children—especially squishy ones!"
Shion slowly turned to Miya. "Hey, Miya… do you hear that?"
She blinked. "Hear what?"
"The Bidoof. Talking. I mean really talking. Like us. Words."
Miya tilted her head, her hands still buried in the Bidoof's fur. "You mean like, 'Biiidoooof'? He's being super loud today."
The other kids giggled and mimicked the Pokémon's cries.
Shion's face paled. "You… don't hear him saying actual words?"
"Nooo?" Miya squinted at him, worried. "Are you okay, Brother? Did you work too hard yesterday?"
One of the other kids whispered, "Maybe he hit his head."
"I'm fine!" Shion lied, then crouched beside the Bidoof, who groaned dramatically under Miya's relentless cuddling.
"Hey," Shion said awkwardly. "Can I… borrow the Bidoof for a bit?"
The kids blinked at him in confusion.
"I just want to, uh… let him stretch. Away from you guys. Y'know, before he explodes or something."
Miya giggled. "Okay! Be gentle with him. He's squishy!"
Shion carefully lifted the Bidoof into his arms. The Pokémon gave a low grunt.
"If this involves mud, I swear to Myself I'm rolling downhill," it muttered.
Kiba, ever loyal, trotted beside them as Shion carried the heavy Pokémon across the village.
---
They arrived at a quiet, grassy knoll just outside the fields—where the forest met the edge of town. A small tree swayed lazily in the breeze. This place was special. It was where Shion, Ren, and Mila used to play years ago. It hadn't changed. Not really.
With a grunt, Shion set the Bidoof down.
The Pokémon collapsed on its belly like a deflated berry.
"Freedom…" it wheezed, eyes glazed. "Children are relentless. Like Giratina in pigtails."
Shion stared, mouth slightly open.
No one else could hear it. Only him.
"…Maybe I'm going crazy," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "I slept in today. I'm probably still half-asleep. Yeah. That's it. A dream. Or heatstroke."
He nodded firmly, proud of his theory, and turned to leave.
"Thank you… for saving me from those tiny Giratina-spawn, human."
Shion froze.
His entire body stiffened. Slowly, like a rusted windmill creaking to life, he turned back toward the Bidoof.
"…You really did talk."
The Bidoof blinked at him, rolled slightly to one side—then immediately rolled back from the momentum, flopping helplessly. "Ack."
Shion crouched, rubbing his ears. "Nope. I must be hallucinating. You're just a really loud Bidoof."
The Pokémon gave him a tired look. "Do hallucinations usually insult your intelligence while complaining about their own weight?"
"…It talked," Shion whispered. "It really talked!"
He jumped back and screamed at the top of his lungs:
"IT TAAAALKED!!!"
Birds scattered from the trees. Somewhere, a Tauros bellowed in confusion. Villagers stopped what they were doing and looked up from their fields and porches.
Shion stood, panting, pointing dramatically at the Bidoof.
The Bidoof, in turn, had rolled again from the force of the scream and lay flopped on its side. "Ugh. My ears."
It looked up at him, now clearly annoyed. "Could you not scream like that next to someone with sensitive hearing?"
Shion stared, trembling.
"You… you're… a talking Bidoof."
"Yes. Congratulations, you've reached basic comprehension," the Pokémon said dryly. "Now, tell me—can you actually understand me?"
Shion hesitated, then slowly nodded.
The Bidoof's eyes widened.
"…Impossible."
Its body wobbled as it scrambled upright with surprising agility, given its roundness. "No human's been able to understand me before—not really."
"What do you mean? Pokémon talk all the time."
"To each other, yes," Bidoof huffed. "To humans? No. Not like this. Not with words. You don't have the ears or the instincts. You hear cries. Sounds. Not speech."
"But I can hear you," Shion said. "Clearly."
The Bidoof circled him now, sniffing and squinting. "Hmm. Strange aura. Very strange. Definitely not a normal farm boy."
Shion took a step back. "Wait, what aura?"
"Bah. I don't know the right word. You smell weird. Like burnt stardust. Or an old ruin."
"…That's not comforting."
The Bidoof sat down with a plop, exhaling dramatically. "Look. I didn't expect on meeting someone who understands me especially in this small village . But now that you're involved, things might get… complicated."
Shion blinked. "Complicated how?"
The Bidoof looked up at the sky, its voice suddenly softer.
"There's something coming. Something old. Something dangerous. I was looking for someone who could help. But I didn't expect it to be… you."
Shion felt his breath catch.
He wasn't special. He was just a farmer. A boy who liked Pokémon but had no dreams. No plans.
And yet… a talking Pokémon had chosen him.
"…What are you?"
The Bidoof looked at him, and for a moment, its eyes were ancient.
"My name is Arceus. And I'm not just a Bidoof.