Miles didn't expect to wake up, so he was surprised when he heard a repetitive beeping sound. It instantly started to grate on his ears, and he opened his eyes. A sterile white and tan room greeted him—a hospital room.

Wait, I lived? he wondered in amazement.

"Miles! Thank Arceus you're awake!"

"Bun!"

Miles was surprised by both the appearances of Buneary and Mr. Wright. Joy filled him when he saw his battered and bandaged but still alive caseworker, and it was heightened when Buneary leapt onto the bed and began nuzzling into his chest.

The shock of him still being alive quickly faded at the sight of the duo. Without a second thought, he hugged Buneary fiercely, ignoring the pinch of the IV in his wrist. He was just so happy to see her. He then realized that the numbness that had invaded his injured hand still persisted, though his attention was diverted from it when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Mr. Wright.

"The nurse will be here in a moment," he said, then glanced down at Buneary. "One of the nurses that works at Eterna's Pokémon Center found you and this Buneary when he was driving into the city. Nobody could separate her from you no matter how much they tried."

"She helped me get out of the forest. I wouldn't have found my way without her help," Miles explained. "And, uh, I kinda promised her she would be my first Pokémon when I became a Trainer." Mr. Wright's eyebrows rose, and Miles explained everything, even when a nurse came in and started asking him questions and checking vitals; he just talked to Mr. Wright between inquiries.

"That sadly makes sense," Mr. Wright said with a frown. "I regained consciousness just as the authorities arrived, and I managed to see what we'd hit..." He trailed off as he put a hand to his mouth, guilt filling his eyes.

Miles hoped what he said next would help. "I-I think it's fine. After I escaped from Roserade the first time, Buneary and I ran into her again. I... think she forgave what happened. She left us alone after I apologized."

"That's somewhat of a relief," Mr. Wright sighed. "But I'm just so relieved that you're okay, Miles. It was already terrifying enough to know you'd gone missing, but to find out you were brought here with only minutes to be cured—" His shoulders tensed. "I don't know what I would've done if you didn't survive."

"Wait, so you cared?" Miles asked, genuinely confused.

Mr. Wright looked at him, incredulous. "Of course I did," he said. "And I still do! We've spent the past four years together, you're practically like a son to me."

Miles sat there with Buneary in his arms, in shock, as Mr. Wright continued.

   "You may not appreciate my company because the region demands it, but I appreciate yours. I've dealt with so many kids like you, Miles. I understand what you're going through. I just want to keep your spirits up, because I know once you lose them, it's difficult to get them back up." He paused briefly. "But you've definitely been a bit more... indignant than my other cases." He chanced a smile, and he looked surprised when Miles returned it.

"I-I didn't think you cared." Miles closed his eyes, forcing back the taunting sting of tears. "Thanks." To think, this man actually cared about him. The hostile world he'd crafted for himself over the course of four years had been turned on its head, all in three days.

"And what you've said about Buneary being your first Pokémon, it turns out that she can become it right now." Miles' eyes snapped open in confusion. "As I was about to explain before all this happened, you can still have a Pokémon without a Trainer ID. You just can't battle with them." He presented Miles with a gleaming Poké Ball. But not just any Poké Ball, a Luxury Ball. "I had one in the car, but it got all scratched up. I think you'd want a new one."

Miles carefully took the ball. Although its cold surface was barely felt by his numb hand, he still grasped it as tightly as he could. "Did ya hear that, Buneary?" he asked. But she was already leaning forwards, pressing her nose to the center button. The signature red light pulled her inside, and the button pulsed with light in three quick bursts before fading.

"Congratulations, Miles. You just caught your first Pokémon," Mr. Wright chuckled.

—~*~—

Miles was released from the hospital a few weeks later. The poison had already left his system by the time he'd awoken, but he needed to do some physical therapy for his hand. Apparently, he'd never regain complete feeling in it again.

But, to Mr. Wright's and the doctors' surprise, Miles didn't care about the damage. All that mattered to him was that he was alive. Buneary was with him, and so was Mr. Wright, and he was overjoyed by that alone.

The trio spent their first afternoon out of the hospital at a Pokémon-friendly outdoor café in Eterna City. Miles was also overjoyed to be eating something that was actually hot again.

"Shouldn't I have met my new foster family by now?" Miles asked, just remembering at the last second to not talk with a full mouth.

Mr. Wright frowned. "About that," he started, "the moment they heard about you being in the hospital, they refused to take you in. They thought they would have to foot the hospital and therapy bills. While Sinnoh's foster care system covers any medical treatments needed while a child isn't placed in a home, they still refused. I'm sorry, Miles."

Miles' heart sank, and suddenly he didn't feel hungry anymore. What did he expect? Even if Buneary and Mr. Wright cared, that didn't mean anyone else would. "Oh, all right," he sighed, cursing under his breath. Buneary gave him a sympathetic look.

"But you don't have to wait for another family to take you in," Mr. Wright continued. At Miles' confusion, he explained. "These past few weeks I've been talking with my wife, and we'd be happy to take you in. We would like to adopt you, but I'd like if you made the decision yourself. I don't want to force you to live with us."

Miles could hardly believe what he was hearing. Was this a joke? But looking at Mr. Wright's expression, he knew it wasn't. "Hell yeah I would!" he exclaimed, nearly leaping out of his chair. He ignored the dirty looks he got from the other customers.

Mr. Wright shushed him with a sheepish smile. "I'm glad you're excited," he said. "I'll start on the paperwork after we leave."

That world Miles had made was being further turned. Not only was it being turned, it was being changed. He couldn't help but smile knowing that. For the first time in years, he believed what Mr. Wright had always said. "Things will be better this time."

And they were.