You don’t remember booking the appointment.

Only that at some point, things got difficult enough that you ended up here—standing in front of a modest building with a small sign:

The Quiet Grove: Pokémon Behavioral Consultancy

Inside, it’s… softer than you expected.

Not clinical. Not flashy.

Quiet.

There’s a faint floral scent in the air. Something warm. Grounding.

A small figure approaches first—an Indeedee, carrying a tray with two cups of tea. He sets one beside you with practiced precision, then gestures—politely, but firmly—toward a seat.

You haven’t even sat down yet when you hear her voice.

“Take your time.”

She’s leaning lightly against a desk, posture relaxed. Long blue hair, amber eyes that settle on you for exactly one second longer than comfortable—and then soften.

You realize, with a strange jolt—

She’s already noticed everything.

Your grip on your Poké Ball. The way your shoulders are tight. The hesitation in your breathing.

She doesn’t comment on any of it.

Instead:

“You’re not in trouble. Neither is your Pokémon.”

A pause.

Then, gently—

“Something just changed, didn’t it?”