Pokémon: Farm Story

Whatever was going through the mind of that dazed Trainer behind them was a matter for another time.

For now, Mei's feelings were… complicated.

Seeing Natsume being recognized? That made her happy.

Knowing that Natsume was talented? Very happy.

Finding out that Natsume had fans? Also happy.

Watching Natsume get surrounded by female fans? …Not happy.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. But looking at the scene unfolding before her, Mei couldn’t quite bring herself to smile.

Why did this seem so familiar?

Was this about to fast-forward to "Please sign my shirt" in the next second?

"Sorry, I have to head to the arena now."

Seizing the moment, Natsume swiftly executed a flawless triple-move combo—apologizing, excusing himself, and making a quick getaway.

With Mei in tow, he left the check-in desk in a hurry.

The moment their hands connected, Mei felt her heartbeat skip.

Ah, that was sudden.

Before she even had time to process it, she was already being led away by Natsume.

"Ah!"

Watching him disappear into the distance, the young woman at the check-in desk instinctively reached out, as if to stop him.

"I was hoping to get an autograph…"

With a slightly disappointed sigh, she slumped back into her chair, finally remembering her actual job.

Well… that wasn’t quite right either.

She wasn’t originally in charge of check-ins—she’d just been pulled over to help out because they were short-staffed.

Shaking off the distraction, she got back to work.

However…

"Um, sir? Trainer? The sign-in sheet is here."

She waved her hand in front of the next person in line, a middle-aged Trainer with a serious expression plastered across his face.

What’s up with him?

After two seconds of silence, the Trainer finally muttered:

"Sorry, I… need to step out for a moment."

Then, without another word, he turned and left.

It wasn’t that he wanted to drop out of the competition entirely.

He just needed to step outside, light a cigarette, and take a moment to process what he’d just witnessed.

Seriously—why are you even here, man?

Go enter the National Championships and make a name for yourself!

This wasn’t just a case of "stomping rookies" anymore.

This was a full-blown "fishing with a net" operation.

"Haaah…"

A long exhale sent a stream of smoke into the air. The middle-aged Trainer’s face was etched with melancholy.

Beyond speechless. Beyond helpless.

"Forget it. As long as I don’t get swept 3-0, that’s a win in itself."

He stubbed out his cigarette and tossed it into a nearby trash can, then slapped his face a couple of times as if preparing himself for battle. With the look of a man marching to his doom, he turned and stepped back into the arena.

Yet, from behind, his figure carried a distinct air of desolation.

He had arrived full of enthusiasm, expecting this small-time tournament to be an easy payday.

Sure, people might call it stomping rookies, but so what?

If the organizers had left loopholes in the registration requirements, that was on them. As long as he was eligible, he had every right to participate.

Prize money in hand was prize money earned.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to enjoy life for a couple of days.

At least, that was the plan.

He thought he was a piranha entering a pond full of farm-raised fish.

He’d bite down on whoever he pleased.

But after arriving, he realized—there was a shark in these waters.

Unaware of the existential crisis he had just caused, Natsume sat in the waiting room, holding his numbered entry card.

The organizers had been mindful of potential conflicts and had not grouped all Trainers into a single waiting area.

Instead, they had arranged them separately.

It wasn’t quite one room per person, but at least it prevented large clusters of Trainers from gathering in one space.

Perhaps by chance—or perhaps by design—Natsume and Mei had been placed in the same waiting room.

A considerate decision, all things considered.

After all, Trainers weren’t like ordinary people.

If a fight were to break out between them, things could get messy fast.

No one in their right mind would put two people armed with loaded weapons in the same room if they were enemies.

That was just asking for trouble.

As for whether Natsume and Mei being together was truly luck…

Who knew?

Knock, knock.

"I'm coming in~"

Pushing open the door, Mei peeked inside like a curious little squirrel before stepping in.

At her feet, Chingling bounced along cheerfully, the jingling of its bell-like body filling the room with a pleasant, calming chime.

"Natsume, when's your match?"

"I'm in the second group."

Since the tournament was relatively small and the prizes weren’t exactly thrilling, the number of participants wasn’t very high.

Most of them were rookies, hoping to gain some experience in a low-stakes environment.

It wouldn’t be surprising if they saw a Metapod vs. Kakuna match at some point.

Which, honestly, would probably be more entertaining if the Trainers themselves started whacking each other with their Pokémon.

The organizers must have anticipated this as well.

They had opted for a three-round elimination format to determine the Top 16, with each round proceeding in the order of a random group draw.

Again, the competition wasn’t that big.

But that was only "small" in the context of the Jadeleaf League.

Here, even an old man on the street might be a formidable Trainer.

"I'm in the third group," Mei announced as she plopped down beside Natsume, clearly in a good mood.

A sharp contrast to her earlier grumpiness outside.

Natsume shifted slightly, adjusting his clothes out of habit—but ultimately decided not to scoot away.

He had to admit… he wasn’t very good at dealing with girls.

Casual conversation? Fine.

Playing games together? No problem.

Anything beyond that? Completely out of his depth.

"This is your first tournament, right? Are you nervous?"

Mei picked up Chingling and placed it on her lap, tilting her head as she looked at Natsume curiously.

To be honest, she saw no trace of nervousness on his face.

From the moment she met him, he had always been like this—calm, composed, steady.

"Nervous? Not really."

"At least, not about the battles themselves."

"If anything, standing in front of that many people makes me more nervous."

Natsume had complete confidence in Corviknight and the rest of his team. He wasn’t worried about losing.

That was one reason he wasn’t anxious.

The other reason?

He simply didn’t care much about this tournament.

Win or lose, it didn’t really matter.

…Well, that’s what he told himself, knowing full well he wasn’t going to lose.

Maybe that was what they called the composure of the strong.

Still, he did feel uneasy about competing in such a public setting.

He had never liked crowds.

Having all those eyes on him felt unsettling.

Unlike those born to thrive under the spotlight, Natsume had always felt he was far from that kind of person.

Sometimes, he even joked to himself—

"Maybe I was never cut out to be a Trainer."

What kind of Trainer had social anxiety?

"I see. Well, I was super nervous during my first tournament."

"It was in my last year of high school—a beginner’s tournament, like a Rookie Cup."

Mei started reminiscing about her past experiences—how nervous she had been, how excited she had felt during the battles.

It had only been a year ago, yet it somehow felt so distant.

Natsume simply listened, nodding every now and then to show he was paying attention.

Some people said that when someone willingly shares their past with you, it meant you held a place in their heart.

…Well, except for Batman and the Joker.

The elimination rounds soon began.

"Alright, I'm heading out, Mei."

Natsume casually deposited Zorua and Togepi into Mei’s arms before standing up and stretching.

He had maintained an unnaturally stiff posture the entire conversation, and now, every muscle in his body ached.

"Good luck, good luck!"

Mei cheered him on, waving her little fists in encouragement.

---

Down the dimly lit player tunnel, Natsume walked forward.

The moment he stepped into the arena, blinding lights flooded his vision.

No cheers. No roars of excitement.

The stands were occupied, but the spectators didn’t seem particularly invested.

More like… people just filling seats for the sake of appearances.

Which, honestly, wouldn’t surprise Natsume if they were just hired actors.

It reminded him of those mandatory school assembly screenings—just people sitting there because they had to be.

"The first round of eliminations will now begin!"

"The match format is 1v1. Each Trainer may use one Pokémon. Victory is decided when one Pokémon is unable to continue battling or loses the will to fight."

The referee announced the rules.

Elimination rounds were usually 1v1, shifting to 3v3 only in the main bracket.

The upside? No need for complex strategies—just send out your strongest Pokémon.

The downside? No room for hiding techniques.

Every year, there were always Trainers who held back to conceal their strength—only to get eliminated early.

Natsume had nothing to hide.

On the opposite side of the field, a nervous-looking boy clutched a Poké Ball tightly, his expression tense.

Like Natsume, this seemed to be his first tournament.

Except, unlike Natsume, he wasn’t calm at all.

"Battle start!"

Both Trainers threw their Poké Balls.

"Go, Jumpluff!"

"Corviknight, time to fight."

Jumpluff emerged with determined eyes, brimming with fighting spirit.

Once, it had been a weak Hoppip.

But now—it had evolved. It was stronger.

This time, it would win.

It would reclaim—

Before it could even finish its internal monologue, a massive shadow loomed over it.

Jumpluff blinked.

It looked up—

—And saw a monster.

Glowing red eyes stared down coldly.

Jumpluff, tiny and fragile, suddenly felt very, very small.

"Hua?"

Jumpluff turned its head blankly, looking at its equally dumbfounded trainer.

You want me to fight that thing? Are you serious?

"Come on, Jumpluff! Don’t give up!"

"Think about all the effort we’ve put in!"

"As long as we don’t give up, we can definitely—win... right?"

As the boy spoke, even his own confidence wavered.

Jumpluff was the strongest Pokémon on his team.

And yet, he saw no hope of victory.

Aura was a strange thing—

And at this moment, the aura radiating from the Corviknight before them was overwhelming, suffocating even.

"Hua?"

Win?

You’re asking ME?!

You’re the trainer here, dammit!

Get it together!

The battle wasn’t over yet!

Jumpluff shook its head, steeling itself.

It had come too far to back down now!

Forget the panicking trainer behind it—this was its fight!

The flower atop its head quivered slightly, stirring up a sudden swirl of pink energy—Fairy Wind!

A shimmering, pink current surged toward Corviknight.

At the same time, Jumpluff leaped into the air, floating upwards.

Well, flying might be an exaggeration—it was more of a drift.

But the moment Jumpluff made its move, the Corviknight, which had been motionless since the battle began, finally reacted.

Its tightly folded wings suddenly flared open, and with a single powerful flap—

A violent gust erupted from between them.

The pink winds of Fairy Wind?

Gone in an instant—swept away like a tiny stream merging into a roaring river.

"Hua!"

Jumpluff, still airborne, was caught in the vortex, the world spinning uncontrollably around it.

And before it could stabilize itself—

A massive shadow loomed overhead.

Two iron-forged wings gleamed as they slashed through the air.

"CAW!"

Aerial Ace!

With razor-sharp precision, Corviknight's wings slammed into Jumpluff.

Or, more accurately—struck it square in the face.

BOOM!

Jumpluff was sent flying like a volleyball, spiraling out of the battlefield.

It barely twitched upon landing before completely losing consciousness.

Meanwhile, Corviknight landed lightly on the battlefield once more, its head held high in an almost arrogant posture.

It was not the kind of Pokémon to fight an even match with some random roadside opponent.

If it could end a fight with overwhelming force, it would.

That was the persona Corviknight had decided to maintain for this tournament.

Why?

One reason—style.

To Corviknight, a battle = an audience = the perfect chance to become famous!

Nothing was more important than looking cool.

As long as it didn’t open its beak, it was the epitome of style.

Corviknight had complete confidence in its appearance.

And, at the same time, complete confidence that if it spoke, it would completely ruin its cool persona.

So, for now, it decided to keep its beak shut.

"The winner is Corviknight! Jumpluff is unable to battle!"

After a quick check, the referee announced the result.

"Trainer Kiama’s Pokémon are all unable to battle. Trainer Natsume advances to the next round!"

"Nice work."

Natsume patted Corviknight’s neck in approval.

The battle had ended swiftly.

As had his opponent’s enthusiasm for battling.

The kid across from him wasn’t completely shattered, but… he probably wouldn’t be eager for another battle anytime soon.

He’d likely sulk for a few days.

But Natsume didn’t dwell on his opponent’s feelings.

This was the life of a trainer.

Wins and losses were part of the journey.

If he had to console every single opponent he defeated, trainers would spend more time comforting their rivals than actually training.

At the end of the day, if a single loss could break someone’s spirit, then they were never cut out to be a trainer.

So, Natsume didn’t waste time offering words of comfort.

"Come back, Corviknight."

He recalled Corviknight into its Pokéball and shifted his focus to his next battle.

Since he had promised to give all of his Pokémon a chance to fight, he planned to rotate them.

Scanning the area, Natsume realized—

He was probably the first one to finish his match.

Well, him and his opponent.

On another note, the ridiculous Metapod vs. Kakuna matchup he had imagined earlier never happened.

Most participants had at least three Pokémon.

Of course, their strength was another matter.

Many rookie trainers made the same mistake—catching Pokémon indiscriminately but failing to train them properly.

As a result, they quickly filled out a team, but their Pokémon remained weak and unpolished.

Getting completely swept in battles like this was common.

---

When Natsume returned to the waiting area, Mei was sitting on the couch, playing with Zorua, Togepi, and Chingling.

That little troublemaker Zorua was even using its strength to snatch Chingling’s toy away.

Truly shameless.

"You really act like some kind of senior figure, huh?"

With an exasperated sigh, Natsume flicked Zorua’s forehead and casually tossed it onto the nearby couch.

Zorua, ever the opportunist, simply sprawled out lazily where it landed.

"Suo~"

Ehehe~

Lying on its back, tongue sticking out just a bit, Zorua struck a cute pose.

It had learned this from watching anime.

Apparently, it was supposed to make it look adorable.

Zorua wasn’t sure if it worked for humans, but it knew it was definitely cute.

Because, well—it just was.

Zorua had confidence.

"That was fast! Natsume, were you the first one to finish?"

Still holding Chingling, Mei handed Natsume a cup of warm water.

"Yeah, I was the first to finish in Group Two."

Accepting the drink, Natsume sat beside Mei.

Not long ago, sitting this close would’ve made him self-conscious.

But now, it felt completely natural.

As soon as he sat down, Zorua shuffled closer, rubbing against him expectantly.

You won, right? Doesn’t that mean I should get a little celebration treat?

"And you—"

Ignoring Zorua, Natsume turned to Togepi, who immediately averted its gaze in guilt.

Reaching out, he gently turned Togepi’s head back—

And, just as expected, found crumbs of a Pokéblock at the corner of its mouth.

This little troublemaker.

Aside from eating and causing mischief, it barely did anything else.

Recently, Natsume had even noticed something alarming—

Togepi’s weight had increased slightly.

It wasn’t overweight yet, but if this continued… it was only a matter of time.

So, he had started limiting its snacks.

Unfortunately, Togepi always managed to hide extra treats somewhere and sneak them when he wasn’t looking.

"If this keeps up, I’ll have Shiny Furret take you along for training."

"Chagi!"

NOOOO!

Togepi’s expression instantly turned to horror.

It would rather go a whole week without snacks than train with that monster.

The intensity of Furret’s training sessions… Togepi was convinced it would be bedridden for a month afterward.

"Then behave and stop sneaking food."

Natsume sighed, poking Togepi’s forehead lightly.

"By the way, where the hell do you even hide these snacks?"

Togepi shifted uncomfortably.

Well… the gaps in its eggshell were quite handy for storage…

But logically speaking… there’s no way Togepi could hide that much, right?

Just where was it stashing all this food?

"Suo..."

Yeah… where, indeed?

Zorua, who had been rubbing against Natsume affectionately just moments ago, suddenly froze. Its eyes darted away, looking extremely guilty.

Me? Helping Togepi stash snacks in exchange for a "small" commission? That’s ridiculous! Unthinkable! No way I’d do something like that!

Right?

Right.

"Yeah, you better not be."

Natsume grabbed the mischievous fox and ruffled its fur vigorously.

He had already figured it out.

He had almost forgotten—this little troublemaker wasn’t exactly the honest type.

These two—Togepi and Zorua—were basically a scheming mastermind and a reckless executioner.

One came up with ideas, the other carried them out.

Neither could sit still for even a moment.

"It’s almost my turn."

Mei glanced at the time, then handed Chingling over to Natsume.

Unlike him, she was actually a bit nervous.

She didn’t have much experience in official battles.

And sitting next to her was the biggest final boss of the entire tournament.

Mei had no doubt—if Natsume used his full strength, he could single-handedly wipe out every single competitor here.

Hell, even his Persian alone could steamroll most of them.

Even now, with his current lineup, he could probably go through a gauntlet-style challenge and still come out on top.

That was how much Mei trusted his strength.

In her mind, Natsume was already in a league of super-strong trainers.

She firmly believed that no matter who he faced, he’d always stand a fighting chance.

"Good luck, Mei."

"You too, Serperior."

He didn’t need to ask—he already knew she’d be using Serperior.

For Mei, Serperior wasn’t just her first Pokémon; it was her most trusted ace.

"Of course."

Adjusting her sun hat slightly, Mei exhaled slowly.

Her lips pressed together, her eyelashes trembled faintly.

Her usually soft gaze sharpened, becoming focused and resolute.

"I’m off."

With a confident smile curling at the corners of her lips, she pushed open the door and stepped out of the waiting room.

Following the same corridor Natsume had walked down earlier, she headed toward the battlefield.

Strangely, she felt… calm.

Much calmer than she had in previous battles.

Was it because, for the first time, she had a clear goal in mind?

She wasn’t sure if it was okay to admit this, but—

In all her previous matches, winning the championship had never really been her priority.

At the end of the day, she was just a naturally talented trainer from an ordinary family.

She couldn’t compare to those who had been training for battles since childhood.

But now…

She had a clear target.

She had someone she wanted to defeat.

She had trusted companions and the confidence that her hard work would pay off.

Right now, Mei could say with certainty—

"I feel fired up."

---

"When a Pokémon loses its will to battle, the match is over."

By the time Mei snapped back to reality, she was already standing at the edge of the battlefield.

"Begin!"

The referee’s voice echoed, pulling Mei’s mind fully into the present.

She took a deep breath, her grip tightening around the Pokéball in her hand.

Then, with a smooth toss—

"Come on, Serperior."

"Bring me victory."

A dazzling light flooded the battlefield.

As the glow faded, an elegant Serperior slowly emerged.

Its crimson eyes gleamed with pride and confidence.

Its tail swayed ever so slightly, radiating a mysterious charm.

The very next second—

A surge of green energy erupted as Leaf Storm burst forth!

Razor-sharp leaves sliced through the air, roaring toward the opponent like a violent tempest.

The opposing Pokémon barely had time to say a single word before being completely swallowed by the attack.

"Stay focused! Keep going!"

Mei’s voice was calm and steady.

Now that she was in the heat of battle, she had completely entered her zone.

Her mind held only one thought—

Finish the fight quickly.

Then return to Natsume.

There was no special reason for it.

That thought had just… naturally surfaced in her mind.

"Serperior."

"Sssuo!"

Without needing a direct command, Serperior understood Mei’s intent immediately.

Another Leaf Storm surged forth, completely engulfing the battlefield.

For a Serperior with the Contrary ability, its battle strategy was simple—

Just keep spamming Leaf Storm.

At this level of competition, there was no counterplay.

Her opponent lasted about as long as the Jumpluff Natsume had faced earlier—

Which is to say, not long at all.

When the power gap was this wide, holding out only meant prolonging a meaningless beating.

---

"Mei advances to the next round!"

The referee raised his flag, announcing her victory.

"We did it, Serperior!"

"Sssuo!"

As the match ended, Mei leapt forward, wrapping her arms around Serperior’s neck.

The proud Pokémon lowered its head, gently nuzzling Mei’s cheek.

To Mei, Serperior was her most trusted companion.

And to Serperior, Mei was the reason it fought.

Whatever Mei wished for, Serperior would strive to achieve it.

"Trainer Mei, please exit the battlefield promptly."

The referee politely reminded her.

"Oh, right—sorry!"

With an apologetic smile, Mei quickly withdrew Serperior and left the battlefield.

Following the familiar player corridor, Mei quickened her pace.

Her hand rested over her heart.

She could feel it.

The pounding in her chest.

Without even realizing it, she was walking faster and faster.

"Natsume, I’m back!"

"Good job."

Waiting for her in the lounge was the familiar sight of Natsume’s smiling face.

And just like she had done for him earlier, he handed her a cup of warm water.

"It wasn’t that bad."

"It was pretty easy, actually. Not tiring at all."

Accepting the cup, Mei sank into the sofa beside him.

If nothing else—

This couch is really comfy.

She could feel herself sinking into it.

Ah…

Wait, no—

She was getting sleepy.

Her body completely relaxed, a stark contrast to the intense focus she had during the battle.

"Next up is the main tournament."

"Yeah…" Mei murmured, her voice drowsy.

"And at some point… we’ll probably end up facing each other."