Ayan's eyes twinkled when he heard that he would be given a starter Pokémon. Since they were in Kanto region, the starter would be among the three. Bulbasaur, Squirtle or Charmander. Now for the gamers or the anime, a starter Pokémon might not mean much, especially in some regions where starter Pokémon were even ignored.
But as it was known by now. Reality was different. Any starter Pokémon in the real world, cost significantly. In fact any Pokémon which could go through two evolutions by its own were already considered as great, and though there was nothing like the term started Pokémon in the real world their cost was significant.
For example, the price of the starter Pokémon Charmander was at least cost them 20,000 USD which was a significant price for their parents. This was 1/4th of the apartment that they lived in and this price was only for the egg. The nutrition and training would take much more than that, and sometimes the price fluctuated and even went into auction.
Some starter Pokémon like Charmander would even cost more since this can even fly in the last evolution, thus the price of this Pokémon could even go up to 30k USD. Professor Oak saying that he could even get a starter Pokémon was an heaven sent angel.
Ayan took a breath, forcing himself to remain composed even though his heart was hammering in his chest. This was more than he'd dared to hope for. A real starter Pokémon—offered freely by none other than Professor Samuel Oak.
Oak moved across the room, tapped a few commands into a console, and a cylindrical storage case rose from beneath a platform. It hissed open, revealing a single red-and-white Poké Ball nestled in a soft, circular cradle. Only one.
Professor Oak looked at Ayan and offered an apologetic smile.
"Unfortunately, you're a little late. Two other trainers—a boy and a girl, both very promising—left just three days ago. They took Bulbasaur and Squirtle. Normally, I'd wait for the next set of starters to arrive in about a week or so, and offer you a proper choice… but—" he gestured toward the single Poké Ball, "—if you're interested, this Charmander is still available."
Tracey gave Ayan a glance that clearly said: You lucky bastard.
"You're welcome to wait for the next delivery and choose among all three, if you'd prefer. But Charmander is a fine Pokémon—strong, intelligent, a bit temperamental at times, but fiercely loyal to the right trainer. The only condition is… he must like you."
Ayan didn't even hesitate.
"I'd love to meet him, Professor," he said, trying not to sound like a kid about to unwrap his first birthday present. "But yes… only if he likes me."
"That's how it should be." Oak nodded with satisfaction.
He pressed a release on the Poké Ball. With a brilliant flash of white energy, the Pokémon materialized.
Charmander stood about three feet tall, his bright orange skin glowing slightly under the lab lights. His eyes—large and expressive—scanned the room with curiosity before landing on Ayan. The flame on his tail flickered with a low whoosh, casting a faint glow across the polished floor. The flame on it's tail wasn't harmful or cause fire hazard until Charmander wanted it to so Charmander in real world was also great in accompanying adventurers at night and used as an infinite torch.
Ayan knelt down so they were eye-level.
"Hey there," he said softly, extending a hand but keeping it just far enough for the Charmander to choose to approach or not.
Charmander stared at him, blinking slowly. There was no hostility—only intrigue. He tilted his head, then stepped forward with cautious but purposeful steps. He sniffed Ayan's hand, then—suddenly and unexpectedly—pressed the side of his face against it.
Ayan's breath caught. The flame on Charmander's tail flared a bit brighter.
"Well," Oak said with an amused smile, "I believe that's a yes." Even Tracey clapped lightly.
"You just got the rarest kind of blessing."
Charmander stepped back and looked up at Ayan again, letting out a small but approving "Char!" Oak retrieved a small digital tablet and handed it to Ayan.
"This is your trainer log and Pokedex. Both are synced with each other, which I'll register for you shortly. Every encounter, teleportation event, or abnormal reading—you'll log it here. I'd also like you to keep a personal journal. Observations, dreams, feelings. Everything matters."
"I'll be thorough. I promise." Oak turned toward Tracey.
"Make sure he's outfitted with the basics: Poké Balls, a starter kit, a wilderness guide, and an E-pad. And give him access to the lab's open network. I want to stay updated on his progress directly. Now you said your name is Ayan right. I want to know more about you.. Where you came from, in order to understand...."
Ayan's smile didn't falter, but inside, he was already spinning half-truths. He had known this moment would come. The moment Oak—the man of science, logic, and observation—would want to understand the boy who could bend space like a casual thought. But he couldn't tell him everything. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
"I come from a different town. Pretty far off, actually," Ayan said with practiced calm. "Too far to make the trip on foot in a day or two. So when I teleport… that's where I end up. Back home."
Oak leaned back slightly, his fingers steepled in front of his lips, scrutinizing Ayan.
"And this… home of yours? What's it called?"
The next few words that came out of Ayan was total bullshit and chalked up a town in Galar region as he origin.
"Any symptoms when it happens? Pain? Disorientation? Memory lapse?"
"No. At most, a little pressure behind the eyes, like holding my breath for too long. But no damage. I've checked."
"..."
After an hour of back and forth Oak didn't ask more. He could see that he was making Ayan a bit uncomfortable and thus stopped.
"Very well. I won't press. But I do hope, in time, you'll feel comfortable enough to share more. Scientific integrity aside—there's a human story here too, and I'd like to understand it fully."