<Eric held the paper disappointed, as the math quiz showed a failing grade of zero points. “Stanley, I know this can be difficult, but if you can’t catch up in school before you turn 15, you won’t be able to go on your journey,” he said. Stanley wished he had been allowed to bring his pokemon with him to school, I know he could help me, he thought.>


    Charmander was sitting in front of the television, a program about the history of the apricot pokeballs playing on the device. “I could help you, but your dad has a point. Basic addition is a bare minimum to do much of anything.” He chided, observing a master craftsman hollow out the near-sphere organic shape.


    <”Stanley, this quiz doesn’t have the answers on it, so why don’t you retry it? Just get a new piece of paper and try working on it until dinner,” Eric suggested. He wanted his son to succeed, and thought the home environment with no pressures might give him the chance. Stanley, realizing that his father didn’t require him to do things alone, grabbed a pencil and fresh paper from his bag, placing them on the table next to the quiz. I can do this, Stanley resolved, I just need a little help.>


    Watching Eric turn away, Charmander slid over to the table, reading the page. “Ok, your first problem was… three plus two. Wait, we did this at the grocery store, how did you forget?” He asked incredulously. The remaining problems were all the same, single-digit addition. “Stanley, you know how bad this looks, right?”


    <Stanley put all his brain power into the first problem. Three plus two was, was… His thoughts trailed off, before a bang of inspiration gave him the answer. Yes, thought Stanley, three plus two is two!>


    Charmander froze, mentally struck by the equivalent of a Thunder Wave attack, before pinching the bridge of his snout. “Okay, Plan B.” He sighed, scampering to Stanley’s room and returning with a handful of plastic construction toy pieces. Waving to get Stanley’s attention, the lizard placed three pieces on the table in one pile, and two pieces in a separate pile. “Here, we have three pieces, and two pieces. If we combine them into one pile, we have five pieces. Therefore, three plus two is five, get it?”


    <Stanley was confused, he was trying to do homework, not play. Why couldn’t his pokemon understand he needed to work?>


    “Look, three pieces, two pieces, same as the problem.” Charmander repeated, separating the two piles again, and motioning back and forth between them. “Please tell me you can count, I’m just trying to help.”


    <Stanley was confused by his friend’s actions, unable to understand what it was saying. Why is it trying to get me to play with the three pieces, he thought. It’s not like the plastic toys could have anything to do with this math quiz, they’re just toys for fun and construction. Looking back at the quiz, Stanley realized two was not the correct answer, as that was the answer he had put the first time, which the teacher had so nicely signified was incorrect with a little red line through it.>


    “Listen, Stanley, I know you know your numbers, which means you can count. If you can count, you can use this method to practice addition and subtraction. Just please, trust me, understand me,” Charmander pleaded. The vocalization had clearly drawn Eric’s attention from nearby, but he said nothing, merely watching.


    <Wait, a pile of three, and a pile of two. Was his pokemon trying to help him, Stanley questioned, did it know of a new way to do math? With a burst of trust, Stanley once again counted the piles; three and two, just like the math problem. What would happen if he combined them, Stanley wondered, would this give him the answer? Stanley merged the two piles, and counted the pieces. One, two, three, then what came after three…four? And after that was…five, right? Five? Was the answer Five? It had to be, he had counted it himself. Two plus three was five!>


    “Yes, two plus three is five, good job.” The small lizard groaned, now fully aware of the mountain he was going to carry his partner up.


    <Stanley wrote down the five, proud of himself. But will this work again, he asked himself. The next problem was four plus four, to which his original answer had also been two.>


    “Oh sweet heavens, did you answer two for all of them? Surely that was the answer to at least one problem?” Charmander leaned up and over the small table, confirming both that Stanley had indeed written two as every answer, and that none of the problems would have a correct answer of two.


    <Stanley grabbed four pieces and put them in one pile, then made another pile of four pieces. He counted both piles again, until he was confident he had counted correctly. Then, merging the two piles, Stanley counted the result. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Eight! Unsure, Stanley wrote down the number and looked to his pokemon for confirmation.>The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    “Yes, four plus four is eight, good job,” Charmander confirmed. He relaxed, turning back to watch television and let Stanley finish the quiz. The television continued explaining the merits of apricots, and how the primitive humans first got the idea of the pokeball. “You know, the games never really explained how people managed to convert a fruit into a device capable of conversion between energy and matter…” He pondered aloud, aware that nobody could understand him and now seriously questioning why his entire future was tethered to the individual who had just been taught how to count for solving addition problems.


    <Steadily, Stanley proceeded through the quiz, using the small plastic pieces to correctly determine every answer. Proudly, he waved the completed quiz at his father, eager to show his progress. With a quick glance, Eric could tell every answer was correct, with nary a two on the paper. “Well done, son,” he congratulated. “You got them all correct, I am proud of you.” Stanley, happy to have finally conquered basic addition, beamed and then sat next to his pokemon, blissfully unaware as to what was actually on the television beyond people, pokemon, and some food items.>


    Charmander spared a glance to the kitchen, where he locked eyes with Eric. There was an unspoken pause, an agreement, before they broke their shared gaze and returned to their normal activities. “If that doesn’t get his attention, I don’t know what will,” the lizard mused.


    <I’ve never had such an easy time doing homework, thought Stanley, as he planned and plotted ways to sneak his pokemon to school. I really want to go on a journey when I get older, and I need to do better in school or my parents won’t let me go. Stanley began to question if his pokemon could help in subjects other than math, like language or history.>


    A few minutes passed, with hushed conversation in the kitchen as Eric was on the phone to someone. “Stanley,” Eric called from the kitchen, hanging up the soft off-white phone in its cradle on the wall. “I just had a conversation with your teacher Miss Potts; I explained the situation and she agreed to try letting your pokemon help you in class Monday. But she expects the both of you to behave, and any funny business means you can’t bring him back.” His explanation was clear, with zero wiggle room.


    <Stanley was shocked, ecstatic, over the moon! My pokemon is going to join me at school, I’ll make more friends and finally have someone who can help me catch up to the others, he beamed. No need to sneak or lie, he had permission, the glorious blessings to do exactly what he wanted!>


    “How about you go get ready and we’ll visit the park for a bit?” Eric suggested, walking into the living room and turning the television off. The boy, still absent any sort of visible emotion, made for his room to get ready to go. Eric leaned down, whispering to the pokemon “I took a risk doing that, make sure it pays off.” Charmander, caught off-guard by the sentence and the fact Eric’s voice sounded different, tried not to let the panic show on his face.


    “What do you mean a risk?” the pokemon asked, walking beside the man as they went towards the front door.


    “Listen, you can clearly understand me, but it’s one-way. I know you tried to leave me a note on the coffee machine, but you need to be smarter if you want to get past it,” he said in a hushed whisper, quickly standing up after noticing the boy returning from his room.


    <Stanley was energetic, it had been a week since they last went to the park. He planned to try and conquer the climbing gym with his new pokemon. He considered trying to sneak to the battlefields, but realized his father was not going to let them slip away so casually. First a perfect math score, and now the park. Why, it was almost as if Arceus himself had come down to help young Stanley correct his life and rise to the greatness he knew was inside him.>


    The trio stepped outside, as Stanley led them towards the town park. Eric glanced down at Charmander, their earlier conversation interrupted. Charmander gave a grim resolute nod, as the three walked on under the cheerfully oppressive sun.


    <The trio had a wonderful time at the park; Eric took advantage of the time to rest and continue reading a book he had been studying lately, ‘How to Properly Care for Your New Fire Type’. Stanley ran everywhere, climbed every object which could offer a hand hold, and even attempted to build a permanent sand castle. At least until his father caught the pair and told them not to burn the sand into glass. Overall it was a great time, and when they returned home for supper it was a lovely family meal. Stanley was proud to show his mother how he had conquered his previous math quiz. After a quiet evening, the family went to bed to rest for the next day. Stanley was so excited it took him a while to go to sleep, for tomorrow was Monday!>


    <hr>


    Waking up, Charmander bolted off the bed and made a Combee-line for the bathroom. Not trying to be quiet, he hastily lifted the toilet lid just in time for the dinner he was being forced to remember eating to squeeze itself from his body. His head was throbbing, mouth burning from bile, and body starting to collapse from exhaustion from the trip he supposedly had enjoyed for several hours. Confident his belly was fully empty, he wearily reached up to flush but realized he was too short.


    With the lid closed, he pulled himself to climb atop the closed throne and hit the flush button on the very top. With a ‘woosh’, he could hear the water swirl beneath his feet as he slid off and onto the ground, moving to the bathtub and attempting to use the faucet. The main disadvantage of being barely a foot tall was an inability to access tall surfaces, like the human-sized sink. He gargled the cold water until he couldn’t taste anymore, using the bottom of a towel to wipe his mouth.


    The orange pokemon slid to a seated position, his back against the edge of the cold bathtub, as he felt the pain recede, the memories done flooding in. He sat motionless for a while, in the dark, with only the light of his tail to illuminate the room; the only light in the oppressive overwhelmingly large darkness. It was small, weak, and barely strong enough to even reach the walls as the shadows danced menacingly in its trifle light.


    He froze like a Stantler hit with a flash as the room was fully lit. A glance at the doorway revealed émeric and Adrienne, both looking relieved in their nightgowns. “We’ve been waiting for you to hatch; welcome to the party.” He offered, moving to sit down beside the little lizard.


    Adrienne sat on the opposite side, smiling softly. “I suppose introductions are in order; I’m Adrienne, playing the role of Stanley’s mother, Diane. And this is my husband, émeric, who is playing the role of Stanley’s father, Eric.”


    The fire type blinked, visibly confused at the admissions, and managing to communicate his mental state. “What?”


    “We don’t have too much time tonight, but let’s get you up to speed on what we know,” she continued.


    Just remember little guy, you aren’t alone.