Chapter 8: Chapter 8: It Loves You More Than It Loves Itself
Hayato's first two tests naturally went without a hitch.
With only twenty-plus applicants, the proctors quickly finalized their evaluations. Unsurprisingly, whether in written exams, practical demonstrations, or interviews, Hayato indisputably ranked first.
Having passed the assessment, the recruitment event no longer concerned him. Led by a school staff member, Hayato arrived at the faculty dormitory.
Surveying his first little home in this world, Hayato finally allowed himself a small sigh of relief.
"Your class schedule won't be ready until tomorrow, so you can rest here for today," the teacher said kindly.
Hayato nodded, watching as the teacher pulled a small booklet from their pocket. "Oh, and take this—it's the school's basic guidelines. Familiarize yourself with them in advance."
Hayato naturally had no objections. "Got it."
With that, the teacher departed.
The room wasn't large, but compared to the student dormitories of his past life, it could already be considered quite luxurious.
A bedroom, living area, kitchen, and bathroom—though compact, it was more than enough for a single person.
Hayato couldn't help but reflect. Compared to this, his college dorm had been a downright hovel!
After briefly acquainting himself with the room's layout, he went to the kitchen to boil some water. While waiting, he released Cramorant from its Master Ball.
Patting its head, Hayato asked, even though he knew it wouldn't understand, "Hungry? Want some food?"
Cramorant tilted its head.
The dead fish had already been tossed into the trash. All Hayato had left were a few Berries. After a moment's thought, he fed them all to Cramorant.
Only after confirming that Cramorant could eat on its own did he finally pick up the booklet and start reading.
In this world, children who turned ten gained the right to receive a starter Pokémon from their local Pokémon Professor.
The Pokémon League would provide three Pokémon to each regional Professor for distribution.
But not everyone qualified for this privilege.
Wealthy families didn't need it—they could provide their children with rarer Pokémon than the standard starters.
Aside from the League's direct affiliates, most children who received Pokémon from Professors came from well-off families, like Ash and his friends in the anime.
As for commoners and those below? They didn't get the same treatment—likely because the League feared they couldn't afford to raise Pokémon.
That didn't mean commoners couldn't become Trainers, though. The League wouldn't provide them with starter Pokémon, but they could obtain one through their own means.
Harsh as it was, it didn't dampen people's love for Pokémon or their dreams of becoming Trainers.
Before setting out on their journeys, the League mandated three years of schooling for children aged seven to ten, teaching them basic knowledge about Pokémon, Trainers, and standard academic subjects.
After those three years, those who wished to become Trainers could graduate and begin their journeys.
Those uninterested or who changed their minds could opt for higher education, studying subjects like physics, math, or language.
This Petalburg Pokémon Primary School was one such institution.
After skimming the booklet, Hayato had a rough grasp of this world's structure.
---
Meanwhile, in the faculty office...
Principal Kiriyama sat at his desk, reviewing the applicants' test papers. Out of over twenty, only Hayato had achieved a perfect score.
Nodding in satisfaction, he was interrupted when a staff member entered, handing him a registration form for new hires.
Principal Kiriyama glanced at it, startled. "He's only ten?"
Since Hayato had previously claimed to be twelve, Principal Kiriyama hadn't known his true age. Seeing his actual records now was a genuine surprise.
The staff member hesitated. "Principal, isn't that a bit... young?"
Principal Kiriyama recalled Hayato's earlier performance. "That child is sharper than most adults."
Children who lost their parents often matured early, growing wary and guarded.
And for a child raised in seclusion, never having experienced human society before, it made sense he'd lie about his age to avoid being denied work.
The explanation held up.
At that moment, Principal Kiriyama couldn't help but wonder what Hayato's reclusive scholar parents had taught him during those years in isolation.
With a sigh, Principal Kiriyama decided not to pry further. "Let's see how he handles teaching first. If there are no issues, we'll keep him. You may go."
The staff member nodded and left.
Hayato, of course, knew nothing of this.
By evening, a kindly teacher came to invite him to dinner.
Glancing at the sleeping Cramorant, Hayato decided not to disturb it.
"Does the school cafeteria provide food for teachers' Pokémon?" Hayato asked.
"It does, but only basic fare to fill their stomachs," the male teacher replied. Following Hayato's gaze to Cramorant, he blinked in surprise. "A Pokémon I've never seen before. Are you its Trainer?"
Hayato spun a quick tale. "It's from the Galar region. My parents left it to me."
The teacher, who'd heard about Hayato's circumstances, looked sheepish. He appeared seventeen or eighteen, and bringing up such a painful topic clearly embarrassed him. "Sorry."
Hayato was mentally exhausted. Deadpan, he said, "It's fine. What's gone is gone."
The teacher slung an arm around his shoulders, brightening. "That's the spirit! Come on, I'll treat you to dinner! Oh, and I'm Nishida Takeshi—call me Takeshi!"
Hayato: "Got it, Takeshi."
The guy reminded Hayato of his goofy college roommate. Coupled with his cheerful personality, Hayato had learned about half the school's faculty from him by the end of dinner.
Before the meal could devolve into a full-blown welcome party, Hayato hastily packed some Pokémon food and excused himself.
By the time he returned to the dorm, night had fallen.
With a click, the fluorescent lights flickered on, illuminating the room.
But the spot where Cramorant had been sleeping was now empty.
Hayato's heart skipped a beat—until he remembered Cramorant's habit of going out to catch fish in the mornings back in the forest. That eased his worries slightly.
Still, he couldn't relax entirely.
What if Cramorant got attacked outside?
Not that he was worried about Cramorant—he was worried about its opponents and himself.
If Cramorant's counterattacks harmed innocent people or damaged expensive property, no amount of selling himself into slavery would cover the costs!
Luckily, Cramorant didn't keep him waiting long.
Soon, it flew back through the night, a fish clutched in its beak, and landed on the desk.
At the sight, Hayato finally exhaled in relief.
Pulling out the packed food, he took a seat and slid the container over. "Eat up!"
Cramorant tilted its head, then spat out the half-dead fish, nudging it toward Hayato with its beak.
"You wanna feed me?" Hayato laughed.
Cramorant's expression remained as vacant as ever, offering no reply.
Under the warm glow of the lights, Hayato felt oddly moved.
He recalled his cheat sheet's description of Cramorant:
You are its most beloved Trainer. It loves you more than it loves itself.
Even if it couldn't understand human words, it never forgot to love its Trainer.
(End of Chapter)
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