They were children once.

Nika—quiet, shy, sensitive.

He—a boy with green eyes who could talk to Pokémon, though people considered it odd.

They spent entire days together.

N showed her leaves, pointed out Pidove nests, told her about his dreams, about how one day he would be someone who would save all the Pokémon in the world.

And she…

listened, but she could never love Pokémon the way he did.

One day, when they were older, she told him:

— “I don’t like Pokémon, N.”

His heart broke.

And when he later confessed to her shyly:

— “Nika… I love you…”

She ran away.

She left him alone.

After her disappearance, N withdrew into himself.

He didn’t trust people.

He didn’t talk to anyone except Pokémon.

But at the same time…

Every piece of fabric she touched, every piece she left in his house, he hid.

His Pokémon—especially the dark-types—smelled these things for years. They memorized the scent. They absorbed it.

After a long time, when N became a powerful trainer, he saw her by accident.

Nika was carrying groceries, looking tired from work. She was completely unaware that someone was watching her from around the corner.

N said nothing. He just released his Pokémon.

Zoroark stepped out of the shadows. Umbreon appeared like a black glow. Eevee ran under the people's feet.

Nika didn't even have time to scream.

She woke up in a clean, soft bedroom, smelling of mint.

And beside her—N.

The moment she opened her eyes, his face lit up.

"Nika… finally."

She wanted to pull away, but… she couldn't. Zoroark held her arm—not forcefully, but firmly enough. Umbreon lay at her hips, rubbing his fur against her. The little Eevee sat on her thighs, keeping her still.

N smiled gently and sat closer.

— "I've missed you… for years."

His voice trembled.

His hands did too.

Nika moved her head away.

— "W… why…?"

He pressed his forehead against her cheek.

— "Because you left me."

He spoke as if he were a little boy seeing his lost mother after all these years.

Nika trembled.

— "Let me go…"

— "I let you go once," N whispered, wrapping his arms around her.

— "Never again."

— “My Pokémon knew your scent… all the time. I fed it to them. I gave them your things, your old gloves, your scarf… that’s how they found you.”

Nika’s eyes widened.

— “What… did you do…?”

— “It’s nothing bad. I wanted them to know you belonged to me. That you were coming back.”

The Pokémon reacted to his words:

Zoroark rested his head on her shoulder. Umbreon began licking her hand. Eevee pressed himself against her stomach, whimpering softly.

“Please…” he whispered.

“Stay. Don’t run away anymore. I can’t bear it again.”

Then he kissed her temple—gently, almost pleadingly.