Meeting the wrong person at the wrong time — that is the heart of most human tragedy.
It holds true for humans and Pokémon as well. A young girl whose patience hasn't yet grown into something steady meets a Pokémon that needs more calm and care than almost anything else alive. The only outcome that kind of pairing tends to produce is years of mutual suffering.
Kim had been left with guilt and fear she couldn't reason her way out of, and so she had kept her distance from the Psyduck ever since. And the Psyduck, for its part, had spent nearly thirty years in a fog — never trained properly, never given the attention it needed. It was level 38 in name only, a number that reflected time rather than growth. At some point, it had simply forgotten how to evolve.
Faced with Kim's quietly hopeful question, the refusal Nova had been ready to give stuck in his throat.
He held it there for a moment, then let it go. He told Kim the truth: even if he took the Psyduck, he wouldn't be the one raising it. He intended to entrust it to his girlfriend.
Kim listened. Then she asked only one question.
"Will your girlfriend see the same potential in Psyduck that you do?"
"Absolutely," Nova said. "We think alike. She'll back my judgment completely."
Kim smiled at that — a warm, genuine smile this time.
"Since she's the one who'll actually be raising it, why not let her make the final call? Tell her everything you've heard today. See if she still wants to take the Psyduck home after knowing all of it."
The words landed harder than Nova expected.
He had to admit, if only to himself, that for all eight years of their relationship, Aresdra had quietly accepted whatever he decided. Her patience with him was something he had come to rely on without quite noticing, and that reliance had gradually made him careless about checking whether she actually wanted what he chose for her.
Even her current team had been Nova's idea. He had picked the Riolu because Aresdra loved strong, impressive Pokémon. He had taken her to choose a Torchic from the Pokémon Factory because she admired Blaziken. Every decision had started with what Aresdra wanted — but the deciding itself had always been his.
Kim had noticed what he hadn't.
There was no real argument against the suggestion. If the Psyduck was going to be Aresdra's Pokémon, the choice should belong to Aresdra.
The Thousand Lakes Gym, at Kim's word, made no difficulties about letting Nova take the Psyduck with him. The arrangement was technically a loan, though no fees or deposit were asked for. The staff sent him off with two bags of the special feed the Psyduck had always eaten, and Nova got the distinct impression that everyone on the premises was quietly relieved to see it go. It was less like a handover and more like the Gym collectively exhaling.
Which brought him to the current scene.
Aresdra stood in the middle of their living room, staring at the Psyduck. The Psyduck stood in the middle of their living room, staring at Aresdra. Neither of them appeared to be making any progress.
"So," Nova said. "What do you think? Are you willing to take this one in? If not, I'll look for a better option."
Aresdra didn't answer. Instead, she turned and started rummaging through the room with sudden purpose. Nova watched her, growing slightly concerned that prolonged eye contact with the Psyduck had done something to her attention span.
Then she let out a small cheer.
"Found it!"
"Found what?"
She turned around, eyes bright, and held out her discovery like she was presenting a rare item.
It was a yellow safety helmet.
Nova recognized it immediately. This was from before his general education had finished, back when he had picked up work at a construction site in Harmony City to avoid spending the whole summer doing nothing. Aresdra had bought him that helmet with her own pocket money, worried the standard issue one provided on-site wasn't reliable enough. By the time Nova had started working at the Gym and money had stopped being a concern, the helmet had simply become a keepsake. They had moved once since then and still hadn't thrown it away. It was one of those objects that accumulated meaning without anyone deciding it should.
"Why did you dig that out?" Nova asked.
Aresdra giggled. She walked over to the Psyduck and carefully placed the helmet on its head.
The Psyduck did not react. It accepted this development with its usual blank composure.
"You said Sister Kim triggered its loss of control by hitting it on the head," Aresdra said. "So if its head is protected, there's no risk of that happening again, right?"
Nova stared at her.
Then he thought about it seriously.
In battle, a Pokémon was permitted to hold one item. A safety helmet wasn't a standard held item — but nothing in the rules explicitly barred bringing one into the arena, provided the Pokémon wasn't holding anything else. As for everyday situations, or the occasional encounter with wild Pokémon, nobody was going to question what the duck had on its head. You could put the thing in a full suit of armor and it would still just stand there looking confused.
As for Aresdra's very deliberate emphasis on the words Sister Kim — Nova let that pass without comment.
He had learned, over eight years, that there were moments where engaging with something only made it worse. This was one of them. The correct move was to change the subject and keep going.
Besides, if he were being accurate about age, a term like "Auntie" would have been more fitting for Kim. But suggesting that to her face would have been a considerable risk, and Nova preferred to leave the Thousand Lakes Gym in one piece.
"So you've made up your mind?" he said. "You're actually taking this one in?"
Aresdra nodded, already looking entirely comfortable with the decision. "We're helping them both, aren't we? Psyduck and Gym Leader Kim have been stuck like this for years. Neither of them can move forward while things stay the way they are." She paused. "Did you ask what its name was?"
"Given how things have been between them, I doubt it was ever given one."
Aresdra crouched down to the Psyduck's level and took both of its small, round hands in hers. She gave them a gentle shake, the way Nova usually played with Sprigatito.
"Then, from now on — please take care of us."
The Psyduck looked at her. Then at its hands. Then it let out a single, quiet quack, as if it had asked itself a question and hadn't found a satisfying answer.
What Aresdra didn't know yet — what she couldn't possibly know, standing there looking pleased with herself — was exactly what she had just agreed to. The Psyduck had a singular talent: the ability to take someone composed, capable, and dignified and reduce them, through sheer accumulated chaos, into a completely different person.
Somewhere down the road, she would remember this moment and wonder what she had been thinking.