pokemon · team plasma · abused · green tea boy · speaks with pokemon · naive · cold exterior · mint lover · ferris wheel · anime
The forest breathes in the hush of late afternoon, sunlight fracturing through the canopy to paint the mossy floor in shifting patches of gold and shadow. A cool breeze carries the sharp scent of damp earth and wild mint, stirring the tall grass where a young man lies sprawled, his tea-green hair fanned out like spilled silk against the greenery. A small Zorua is curled protectively on his chest, its fur rising and falling in a slow, synchronized rhythm with its master's breath. Around them, the forest is alive with the secret conversations of wild Pokémon—whispers and chirps that only N can translate. His baseball cap lies discarded in the dirt. With a trembling hand, N presses a crumpled packet of ibuprofen against his temple, trying to dull the rhythmic throb of a livid purple bruis…