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True to his word, their first stop was to the local grocery store in the town square. Cyndaquil ambled along behind Case as the researcher examined the aisles, the fire type’s snout twitching occasionally as he sniffed the air. Premade sandwiches and packaged soups had sustained Case thus far on his journey, but he had the sneaking suspicion that wasn’t going to be acceptable for much longer.

“It’s looking like we’ll be having lunch on the road. We’ll probably make it to the next village over in time for dinner, though,” he commented, closing the town map as he finished consulting it. Cyndaquil’s head tilted towards the man. “Any recommendations for something simple?”

<Ah, yes. Many dishes are both simple and delicious.> The Cyndaquil rubbed the nubs of his front legs together, the way one might rub their hands while thinking. <Are you allergic to anything? Any dietary restrictions?>

Case shook his head. When the pokemon didn’t reply, he spoke aloud. “No allergies that I know of. I’m not terribly fond of shellfish, though.”

 <Not a worry. Let’s try a sandwich recipe then. We’ll need tomatoes, mozzarella, pesto, and of course, bread. I can tell you how to make it, it’ll only take a minute.> Just because he didn’t have the necessary fingers to make a sandwich himself didn’t mean he couldn’t instruct his trainer on how to do it.

The bread aisle was closest, and so they started there. <Make sure it’s nice and fresh. Wait, here, let me check.> Cyndaquil stood up on his hind legs, snout reaching to sniff at the loaf as Casey held it out to him. <Oh, wrong kind. Try to find Ciabatta- it’s a little firmer and flatter. Sometimes called Slipper bread.> The researcher paced the shelves, his starter stopping occasionally to poke at the bread on the lower shelves. Eventually they found it, tucked away behind a stack of wheat bread.

Mozzarella was next. <Not the shredded kind, a whole block,> the pokemon advised. Thankfully it was easier to find than the bread was, and Case added it to the basket that hung from his arm. An uncharacteristically relaxed smile graced his face. It was good to be away from everything, in a new land and a quaint little town, with a pokemon of his own. Case felt like he could breathe again for the first time in years. Had he known life could be like this, he would have left sooner.

Tomatoes were also easy, and the researcher picked out two that were a deep, ripe red. That left only pesto on their list. <Do you know how to make pesto?> Case did not, and he told the pokemon as much. <That’s alright. Premade will do for now, but next time I’ll talk you through it.> Casey laughed quietly at that- of all the things he was expecting to learn from pokemon, making pesto was not one of them. “Looking forward to it.”

Pesto in a jar was the store’s only option, and Casey placed it in the basket (but not without some grumbling from Cyndaquil about how he couldn’t smell it through the glass). They were about to leave the store when something caught his eye- a potted plant with vibrant, green leaves that curled under. The label on the side of the pot read ‘Basil.’

“What do you think of basil?” Case asked, a curious note in his voice.

<It’s a versatile little herb,> Cyndaquil rattled off, <used in a lot of dishes. It goes nicely with tomatoes- that’s why we picked up the pesto.> The researcher nodded as he spoke. Maybe he should be writing this down- tomatoes and basil. But that wasn’t his original intention in asking, and so he elaborated.

“What about as a name?”

<As a name?> The pokemon echoed. He paused, rubbing his legs again in thought. For a long moment, Case fretted quietly as he placed their groceries on the counter for the clerk to scan. It was hard, trying to read the pokemon’s expression. Maybe it was too soon to be suggesting names. Maybe the Cyndaquil already had one-though if he did, the woman at the lab neglected to mention it. Maybe he just didn’t like it- Case was more than willing to accept that, too. He just didn’t know yet if the silence was good or bad.

It wasn’t until they had paid for their food and left the store that Cyndaquil spoke again. <Basil… I like it. Basil.> Short, crisp, conjured the smell of freshly cut leaves and an earthy yet sweet taste on the tongue… Yes, the name suited him.

The grin on Casey’s face grew a little wider and there was a swell of pride in his chest as they paused by a park bench. “Well then, Basil,” he said in a soft voice, setting his sling bag on the bench beside him. “Let me officially say that it’s a pleasure.” Letting go of his formal tendencies was going to be tough, but the newly named pokemon seemed to understand what he was trying to say.