The Rocky Realization

The journey to Oreburgh was turning out to be an epic saga of "Why did I think this was a good idea?" Day two of the Jack-and-Rhyhorn show, and things were still about as smooth as riding a bike with square wheels. I had woken up hopeful, optimistic that maybe today would be the day Rhyhorn listened to me and we could actually travel like a real trainer and Pokémon duo.

Spoiler alert: it wasn't.

"Alright, Rhyhorn, time to go!" I called out cheerily, trying to set the tone for the day. Rhyhorn, in response, let out a grunt that sounded suspiciously like, "Ugh, why are you here?" before planting itself right back down on the ground.

I stared at it, my hands on my hips. "Really? This again? We went through all of this yesterday." I felt like I was talking to a very stubborn wall. A wall with legs and horns that happened to weigh about a ton. I was running out of rocks to throw to get it moving—and, honestly, running out of patience.

"Okay, okay, let's try this…" I started pacing back and forth, the thin rope still tied loosely to Rhyhorn's horn. "If I throw a rock... then you'll—no, no, you'll just lie back down after five minutes again. Maybe…" I paused, staring at Rhyhorn, who just blinked lazily at me, clearly unconcerned about the existential crisis I was having on its behalf.

It hit me then: maybe Rhyhorn just didn't care. It didn't have a reason to. Sure, I'd caught it, but that didn't mean anything to Rhyhorn. It wasn't like the books or the stories I'd heard about trainers and their Pokémon bonding over a battle. It was just annoyed, tired, and probably wondering why this skinny kid kept trying to make it go somewhere it didn't want to go.

I let out a long breath, the realization settling over me. "This isn't going to work, is it?" I asked Rhyhorn, my voice dropping. It blinked again, then promptly turned its head to start munching on another bush.

It was almost funny. Almost. I mean, I'd set out thinking I'd be the next big thing—some kid who caught a Rhyhorn, walked into Oreburgh City, and amazed everyone with his cool, rocky companion. But reality was harsher. I wasn't some prodigy. I was just a guy who got lucky in a cave, and now that luck was starting to look more like a big mistake.

I plopped down beside Rhyhorn, letting the rope go slack. "You don't really want to do this, do you?" I asked, though I knew I wouldn't get an answer. The Rhyhorn kept chewing, its jaws grinding leaves into a pulp. I pulled my bag into my lap, rummaging inside until I found the fossil wrapped in a piece of cloth.

I unwrapped it slowly, staring at the ancient, cracked surface. The fossil looked old, mysterious—like it held something far greater than what I could imagine. A Pokémon that could be powerful. Something different, something that might actually want to work with me. I ran my fingers over the rough edges of the fossil, a thought forming in the back of my mind.

Maybe… maybe I was focusing on the wrong thing. I'd been so determined to make Rhyhorn listen, to make it work with what I had. But maybe that was the mistake. This partnership wasn't really a partnership. It was forced, uncomfortable, and more importantly, it just wasn't working. Maybe I needed to put my hopes in the fossil. If I could get it revived in Oreburgh, maybe that Pokémon would be different. Maybe we could start on the right foot from the beginning, instead of trying to force something that wasn't meant to be.

I looked over at Rhyhorn, who had now rolled onto its side, sunning itself like it had nothing better to do. I couldn't help but laugh a little. "You're really not interested in any of this, huh?" I asked, shaking my head. "I mean, I can't blame you. It's probably more peaceful just sitting here eating bushes."

Rhyhorn didn't even bother opening its eyes. It was like it was telling me: "You do your thing, kid. I'm fine right here."

I leaned back against a rock, closing my eyes for a moment. Maybe it was time to admit that I'd made a mistake. Rhyhorn was powerful, sure, but not every powerful Pokémon was a good match for every trainer. I wasn't giving up—I wasn't the type—but I had to be realistic. This wasn't some movie where the stubborn Pokémon suddenly comes around because of a heartfelt speech. Rhyhorn wasn't interested in my journey, and that was okay.

Maybe this was a lesson I needed to learn. Being a trainer wasn't just about catching something strong and hoping for the best. It was about partnership, about understanding. And if I wanted to make it in this world, I needed a Pokémon that wanted the same thing I did—a real adventure, a real shot at something bigger.

The fossil… it was my best bet. If I could get it revived, if I could start fresh, maybe things would be different. I wasn't giving up on being a trainer. I was just changing the plan.

I got up, dusting myself off. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, the horizon turning shades of orange and pink. I looked at Oreburgh in the distance. It wasn't far now. If I could just get there, I could figure out my next steps. I glanced down at Rhyhorn, who was still snoozing contentedly.

"Alright, Rhyhorn," I said, my voice light. "I think it's time we took a break from each other." I fumbled with the Poké Ball, calling Rhyhorn back inside. The red light enveloped it, and in an instant, it was gone. I tucked the Poké Ball back into my bag, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment.

I set my eyes on the city ahead. I'd get there by myself if I had to. Maybe it wasn't the grand, heroic entry I'd envisioned, but I'd make it. One way or another.