Whitney wore a red-striped short-sleeve cardigan over her upper body, paired with plain casual hotpants. Her black-and-purple striped mid-length cotton socks matched her vibrant-colored chunky sneakers, giving her an energetic and lively appearance.
Thanks to growing up drinking MooMoo Milk, her skin was exceptionally fair, and if you got close enough, you could even catch a faint scent of milk on her.
As memories of Whitney resurfaced in his mind, Ather's eyes softened with a touch of affection.
...
In this world, his name was also Ather, and he had arrived here at the age of twelve.
Not long after his birth, his parents passed away, and he was sent to an orphanage.
From a young age, he had always admired the powerful Pokémon trainers and had aspired to become one of the strongest trainers in this world.
So, he secretly ran away from the orphanage to start his growth journey.
Unlike kids from regular families, an orphan who didn't pay taxes couldn't receive a starter Pokémon from a Professor.
So the best chance Ather had to become a trainer was to start out as a Bug Catcher...
After all, Bug-type Pokémon were among the few that could be caught barehanded.
However, once he truly understood the life of a trainer, he became disheartened.
Because being a trainer was expensive!
A single regular Poké Ball cost 500. A can of standard Pokémon food cost 1,000 Bucks—barely enough for a small Pokémon to eat for a week...
That didn't even include the costs of medical care after battles, training equipment, nutrition supplements, and more.
For the first time, he realized how far out of reach the dream of becoming a trainer really was.
Whenever he recalled the hardships of his predecessor, Ather couldn't help but sigh.
No wonder all those Bug Catchers in the games used to block the roads and rob people...
Still, the original Ather never gave up. Instead, he found his own way to earn money.
Due to his age, he couldn't take on any formal jobs, so he had to beg on the streets of Goldenrod City, the most prosperous city in the Johto region.
In the Pokémon world, people seemed to suffer from a condition called "enlarged conscience," so even begging was enough for him to stay fed and slowly save up.
At twelve years old, he sat at the outskirts of the city like usual, with a chipped bowl in front of him holding some scattered coins.
He counted the coins one by one with trembling fingers, his face brimming with excitement.
He had finally saved up 3,000 Pokédollar the price of six Poké Balls.
That meant he had the bare minimum required to begin the journey of a legitimate Pokémon trainer!
Perhaps he got too excited—he fainted on the spot, and his soul was replaced by someone from Earth...
And that very same day, he met the girl standing before him now.
"Please, could you help me find my way home?" Whitney pressed her palms together and bowed slightly, her large eyes welling with tears as she pleaded with him.
Because of her unusual talent, Whitney instinctively felt a huge pressure from Ather... and for some inexplicable reason, he agreed.
It was late. Whitney's home was a large ranch on the outskirts of Goldenrod City, and with no streetlights along the way, it took them until nearly midnight to arrive.
From that point on, Ather and Whitney officially knew each other.
Afterward, he inherited the will of his predecessor—begging for money while slowly learning everything about this world.
Still, he would always, subconsciously, place his begging bowl at the street corner where they first met—and Whitney, for some reason, managed to get lost seven to ten days a month, needing him to walk her home.
Over the years, they became close friends.
Whitney's dream was to become a powerful Normal-type trainer and take her Miltank to the top, which made Ather admire her even more—they shared the same goals.
After all, with such a huge ranch, Whitney was practically the richest girl in Goldenrod, maybe even all of Johto.
Still, to protect his fragile pride, Ather never once asked Whitney for help. Year after year, he continued to beg on the streets.
Occasionally, he'd pick up some odd jobs from familiar faces to earn a little extra and keep saving for his dream.
At fifteen, Whitney suddenly came to him in tears.
She was always a bit of a crybaby, but that was the first time he'd seen her cry like that—gut-wrenching sobs, heartbroken wails.
Even her Miltank drooped its ears, looking utterly devastated.
After a long time comforting her, Ather finally understood what had happened.
Her grandfather—Howard, the former Gym Leader of Goldenrod—had passed away.
From that moment on, she, too, became all alone in the world.
"Ather, could you come help me at the ranch? I really can't handle it all by myself..."
That scene, one he had experienced countless times before, played in his head again. He had lost count of how many times Whitney had invited him over.
Before, he always saw it as charity between friends and refused.
But this time, he slowly nodded.
Her tear-streaked face was something he couldn't say no to.
Whitney stopped crying, a relieved smile forming on her face. "I'll pay you wages too—no freeloading."
She'd picked up that phrase from him.
From that day on, Ather officially became the proud manager of a Miltank ranch...
Though he was curious about the actual milking work, his lack of experience meant he mostly handled odd jobs around the ranch.
His daily work involved adding hay and berries to the feed, preparing Pokémon food, and managing the Miltanks' schedule.
Only Whitney's personal Miltank was occasionally fooled into letting him practice a little... just to get the hang of it.
Whitney paid him 5,000 every month. It was busy, fulfilling work, far more than he'd ever earned before.
With food and lodging covered, Ather saved up a solid fund, just waiting for the day he turned 18 to officially set out on his journey.
"Hurry up! Still dazing off... seriously..." Whitney yanked him out of bed and tossed him his clothes. "You've got five minutes, or I'm docking your pay!"
"Alright, alright..." Ather replied, but then he glanced at the pretty girl in front of him—and froze.
Bathed in the morning light, she looked like she was glowing. Compared to the fake, makeup-laden girls from his past life, Whitney was in a league of her own...
Even after all these years, Ather couldn't help but steal a few extra glances.
"What are you staring at?" Whitney blinked, then smirked with her hands on her hips. "Falling for my cuteness again?"
The cheeky pose was almost too dazzling...
"....." Ather looked away, saying nothing, and quickly got up.
Whitney pouted in response.
The ranch had nearly fifty Miltank, and Whitney had to work until late afternoon before she could start battle training.
Compared to her, Ather's work was lighter. Aside from preparing meals, he only needed to regularly check on the Miltanks' conditions.
Using a steel fork to toss hay into the troughs, mixing juices from various berries...
Ather followed each step carefully. He had developed the recipe himself based on books. Not only did the Miltanks love it—even Whitney was a fan.
Sometimes he wondered if this girl was secretly a Miltank in disguise... From her looks to her preferences, even her growth seemed ahead of her age...
If he had to choose, even ABCD options wouldn't be enough...
In his past life's terminology, she'd be considered a "baby-faced, big... ahem..."