The morning sun rose lazily over the high-end residential district of the Pewter City center, throwing sharp, golden beams of light through the massive glass windows of the three-story townhouse. Outside, the world was waking up to a normal, routine day. The distant, faint chirping of wild Pidgey echoed through the crisp morning air, blending with the low rumble of cars starting up and the quiet chatter of early commuters heading out to work. The city was coming alive with fresh energy.
But inside the master bedroom, the atmosphere felt entirely frozen, suffocating, and heavy with a dark, nesting sorrow.
Angel's eyes slowly fluttered open, but unlike the rest of the city, her world didn't wake up to a fresh start. The very first thing her skin registered was the cold, completely empty bedsheet beside her. There was no sign of Odin. Not a single trace. Deep down in the most desperate, obsessive corners of her mind, she had spent the entire night praying that she would wake up to the sight of that arrogant asshole sleeping lazily next to her, breathing heavily while hogging the blankets. But the space was completely hollow. The lingering loneliness from the midnight hours only grew darker and more suffocating with the daylight.
Her body was still completely naked beneath the heavy silk comforter. Trembling, she slid her fingers down beneath the sheets, checking her pussy to see if there was any wet, sticky cum dripping out of her—desperately double-checking if maybe, just maybe, Odin had somehow slipped into the house during the dead of night and decided to passionately fuck her cunt silly while she was crying in her sleep. But no. Her pussy was completely clean and dry. There was none of that either.
She turned onto her side, looking at the empty indentation on the pillow next to her where his head should have been, her pale fingers slowly brushing against the cold fabric.
"Where are you, Odin..." she whispered into the silent room, her voice cracking. "Tell me... are you okay? Where have you gone without telling me... am I no longer useful to you? Was your only goal to just help me buy this house and then discard me like trash?.."
A fresh torrent of tears began streaming from her eyes, her fragile composure fracturing completely as she pulled his empty pillow into a tight embrace, burying her face into it while crying his name out into the void.
"No... Odin wouldn't abandon me... never! He wouldn't do that to me! Something must have happened... something terrible happened... I'm completely sure of it!" she screamed through her tears, desperately trying to force her brain to protect his image, even as the raw panic of abandonment ripped through her chest.
Eventually, after an hour of heavy sobbing, she managed to find the strength to drag her exhausted body out of bed, her eyes completely swollen, bloodshot, and framed by heavy, dark eyebags from her restless, terrible sleep.
Looking down at the floorboards, she spotted Poopie lying quietly on the ground. She must have restlessly kicked him off the mattress in the middle of her frantic tossing and turning during the night. Moving on pure, maternal instinct, Angel immediately scooped the floating poison cloud up into her bare arms like a giant plushy, cradling his round body tightly against her naked breasts.
"I'm so sorry, Poopie... did I kick you out of bed? I'm so sorry, my sweet boy," she whispered, her voice dropping into a gentle baby talk as she showered his violet skin with soft kisses, praises, and deep apologies, trying to comfort him just in case her restless nightmares had hurt him.
Forcing herself out of the bedroom, Angel wrapped a loose robe around her bare frame, still cradling Poopie tightly against her chest. She slowly descended the grand wooden stairs, a tiny, foolish spark of hope still burning in her chest that maybe—just maybe—Odin was sitting lazily in the living room, feet kicked up on the table, watching TV and waiting to mock her for being a sleepyhead.
But when she reached the bottom floor, the massive living room was completely devoid of his presence. She only found her mother organizing the counter and little Rafael sitting on the rug.
"Good morning, Angel. Did you sleep well, dear?" Minerva asked, turning around with a warm smile.
Angel stopped at the base of the stairs, her shoulders slumped as she let out a hollow, half-baked reply, her tone completely dejectedly. "Mhm... yeah..."
Minerva's smile immediately vanished, her maternal eyes instantly tracking the deep eyebags and swollen, red state of her daughter's face. She knew the brutal reality; not finding Odin in the house had completely dampened the girl's mood, sinking her back into that silent, terrifying depression.
Little Rafael looked away from the TV, waving his hand cheerfully. "Good morning, Nana!"
But he received the exact same cold, empty reply from his sister. "Mmh... morning..."
Angel walked past them like a ghost, her bare feet padding silently across the floor as she entered the kitchen. She reached out and pulled open the massive fridge door. There it was—the grand celebration dinner she had meticulously prepared last night, the extra portions specially set aside for Odin, now sitting cold and trapped beneath plastic wrap. The sight was a physical slap to her face. Another heavy tear leaked from her eye, dripping straight down off her chin and splashing onto Poopie's purple skin.
Click. She closed the fridge door shut, turning away from the food completely.
"Koff... Koffing," Poopie rumbled softly, his round eyes full of immense worry as he nudged her cheek.
"I'm going to be fine, Poopie... thank you for worrying about me," Angel whispered, her fingers stroking his side as she turned to walk straight back up the stairs.
Minerva immediately stepped into the kitchen hallway, stopping her before she could reach the steps. "Angel, wait! Aren't you going to eat anything for breakfast, dear? You need to keep your strength up."
"Not hungry," Angel said bluntly, her voice devoid of any human warmth as she continued past her mother, ascending the stairs in a slow, robotic rhythm before closing the bedroom door shut with a definitive click.
Rafael looked up from the rug, his little face twisting with confusion. "Mama... is Nana okay?"
Minerva let out a heavy, sorrowful sigh, walking over to kneel beside her son, gently stroking his hair to keep him calm. "Don't worry, little Rafael. Nana is just going through a little hard time right now... a heartbreak."
"Will she be fine, mommy?" the boy asked innocently.
"Of course she will be fine, little Rafael! Come on, let's play a few games together," Minerva smiled, forcing her tone to stay bright and cheerful to keep the boy busy, completely hiding the knot of pure anxiety twisting deep inside her own chest.
The heavy, silent standoff inside the master bedroom went on for hours, bleeding straight through the morning and into the late, stagnant afternoon. Angel never left her bed, her head buried deep into the plush pillows as she sank into a state of utter, suffocating depression. This was the terrifying reality of an unhealthy obsession—the brutal, catastrophic crash of a brain running on dangerously low dopamine when its sole source of life is stripped away.
Koffing remained pinned straight to her side, his massive violet body resting heavily against her back. His loyalty was an absolute, ride-or-die bond; because Angel refused to touch a single crumb of food or a drop of water, the Diamond nuke refused to eat anything either, starving himself right alongside his girl out of pure solidarity with her pain.
Locked in her manic loop, Angel spent hours on her Pokégear, her fingers frantically tapping the screen as she fired off dozens of desperate text messages into the void: where are you? what are you doing? are you okay? did you eat? did something happen?
Every single text was met with absolute, mocking silence. She redialed his number again and again, but the line only ever rang out before dropping into that same arrogant, punchable recording: "Sorry, asshole, currently unavailable. Catch me next time! How about that?!" She had heard it so many times she could repeat it in perfect, agonizing sync in her sleep.
Beside her, Poopie's large eyes suddenly narrowed, turning incredibly sharp, serious, and calculating as he observed her mental deterioration. Something is completely wrong. Definitely not right, the creature thought, a wave of deep, protective concern racing through his neural pathways. He knew his master wasn't dead; because Odin possessed a Gold Poison Affinity, a raw, elemental soul-resonance linked the poison cloud straight to his master's heartbeat. He could still feel Odin's life force pulsing somewhere far away—but the signal was incredibly weak, distant, and completely comatose.
To survive the suffocating silence of the room, Angel finally clicked her Pokégear open and began blasting the raw, aggressive tracks of Roxie's punk-rock band. It was her and Odin's absolute favorite band—the exact track they shared as a matching ringtone back in the slums. Listening to the heavy, roaring drums and the biting electric guitar brought a tiny, slight shred of comfort to her bleeding heart, allowing her to stay anchored as the afternoon light began to fade.
Suddenly, the loud, crisp ring of the front doorbell echoed all the way up through the three-story townhouse.
The sound flipped a violent switch inside Angel's Yandere brain. Driven by a sudden, manic surge of absolute delusion, she bolted straight out of the sheets with an insane, blinding speed that would put a Regieleki to shame. She flew across the master bedroom, cradling Poopie tightly in her arms as her bare feet blurred down the grand staircase, ripping through the hallways until she reached the front entrance in a split second.
FUCK! She violently yanked the front door wide open, her chest heaving, fully prepared to throw her naked body straight into Odin's dominant embrace.
But the moment the door cleared, the massive surge of adrenaline instantly crashed into a wall of cold, brutal reality. The depression slammed back into her chest like a physical iron fist.
Standing on the porch was a strange, middle-aged woman holding a clipboard. "Hello there... I'm the housekeeper who was hired to take care of the sickly Miss Minerva," the woman said politely, adjusting her glasses. "This is the right house, correct?"
That was the absolute, ultimate final straw. The fragile thread holding Angel's sanity together snapped into absolute pieces. Right there on the clean, high-end porch, in front of a total stranger, The depressed Angel completely broke down.
"Ugh... Ahhh!" a loud, hysterical sob ripped out of her throat as her knees gave out, her body collapsing hard onto the stone floor. She wept uncontrollably, her face turning into a complete, frantic mess of tears and mucus as she violently rocked back and forth, the raw terror of her abandonment fears exploding out into the open air.
"WHERE IS MY ODIN?!... WHERE IS HE?!" she screamed, her fingernails digging into the stone as she wailed. "What happened to him?! Why is he not coming back to me?! What went wrong?! What did I do wrong?! What did he do wrong?!"
She clutched Poopie against her wet face, her voice dropping into a desperate, terrified shriek. "Poopie... please don't abandon me either! Please! I am begging you! Don't leave me alone in the dark! Pleaseee!"
She made a complete, devastating spectacle of herself, her raw psychological trauma laid completely bare on the upscale pavement.
Minerva, overriding her own physical illness, quickly swooped down the hallway. Her eyes flared with deep worry as she grabbed her hysterical daughter, using all her strength to pull Angel's shaking frame up from the ground. She looked up at the stunned, uncomfortable housekeeper, her voice tight. "Yes... yes, this is the right place. This is Minerva."
The housekeeper blinked, stepping back slightly. "Is... is this a bad time, miss?"
"Honestly, yes," Minerva said directly, keeping her grip tight around her sobbing daughter. "But please, come in, make yourself at home. I need to deal with an emergency here. Your first task is to watch over little Rafael in the living room."
"Of course," the woman nodded hurriedly, stepping inside as Minerva guided the completely broken, weeping Angel back up the stairs, locking the bedroom door behind them to shroud her grief from the rest of the world.
Minerva spent hours sitting on the edge of the mattress, pouring out every single piece of comforting advice, maternal warmth, and gentle reassurance she possessed, but nothing she said could pierce through the wall of Angel's grief. The girl remained entirely unresponsive, her head buried deep into the pillows, her ears completely deaf to the outside world. Defeated and exhausted, Minerva finally realized she had to leave her daughter to process the sorrow.
Before she stepped out, Minerva turned and looked down at the massive, hovering poison cloud. Her eyes held a deep, heavy, and apologetic look—a silent maternal plea that explicitly said: I'm sorry, fella, but I have to leave her in your care. It's entirely on you now to keep her safe.
As she closed the door shut, Minerva leaned against the hallway wall, her fingers clenching into fists as she thought to herself: Where the fuck are you, Odin... you're hurting my daughter to the point she can't even function anymore. You haven't even been gone for three days, and she is a completely broken mess. Just what did you do to my angel to turn her like this... is this even love anymore? Isn't this just borderline, dangerous obsession? Please, just come home already, Odin... or at least call her. Just when everything was finally going right for my daughter again after a long time, this had to happen. You better be alive out there, you criminal scum!
Inside the darkened room, the pale moonlight began to penetrate through the massive glass window, casting a silver, ethereal glow over Angel's unmoving form.
Poopie hovered quietly in the center of the room, his serious, sharp eyes staring out at the crescent moon before tracking back down to his girl. He knew he couldn't let this go on. Her body was completely starving, dehydrated, and reaching a critical physical threshold. If his master wasn't here to handle her, that job fell strictly onto his purple shoulders.
Moving with a soft rumble, Koffing floated down to the mattress and nudged her bare arm with his warm, gaseous hide. "Koff, koff!"
Angel's white braids shifted against the pillow as she slowly blinked her heavy, swollen eyes. "Is... is Odin home, Poopie?" she whispered, her voice cracking with a raw, desperate hope that made the poison cloud want to burst out crying.
Holding strong for her sake, Koffing slowly shook his head from side to side. No, he hadn't returned.
The light instantly died from her snowflake pupils. "Then why did you wake me up, Poopie?.."
"Koff, koff, Koffing!"
"You want me to follow you?..." she sighed, her empty voice entirely devoid of life. "Okay... anything you want, My Poopie... I'll go with you..."
Angel's natural, seamless capacity to perfectly understand every single syllable and emotion that left Koffing's mouth was a reality-shattering gift. The powerhouse was fiercely thankful for that bond every single day of his life. Communicating with Odin was like screaming at a thick brick wall—it never went anywhere. But Angel understood everything. She read his soul. It was the exact reason why she was his undisputed goddess, his absolute love, and the center of his universe.
Dragging her exhausted frame out of the sheets, Angel pulled on a loose set of clothes, her body moving purely on autopilot as she followed the floating cloud out of the master bedroom.
"Koff, koffing-koffing!"
"Outside? You want to go outside?..." Angel murmured as they descended the stairs and slipped through the front door of the silent townhouse. "Hmm, okay... sure... I don't really care at this point."
The midnight air was cool and damp as Koffing began to carefully guide her through the clean, paved streets of the Pewter City center. His destination was a very specific, deeply nostalgic landmark: the Rockstar Bar.
It was the place where they had gone on their very first date together. Because Odin was an active,Team Rocket member, he was completely banned from entering any public establishments, including Poké Marts, Pokémon Centers, and public bars. On that night, Odin had been forced to wait outside in the shadows of a dark, quiet public park nearby while Angel and Koffing went inside to buy the takeout. Once they secured the steaming bowls of Blaziken Ramen, they had met Odin back at a lone park bench under the midnight sky. Because there were no spoons and Odin had lazily complained that he didn't know how to use Chinese chopsticks, Angel had sat right between them, patiently blowing on the noodles to personally feed both her alpha man and her favorite companion before finally eating her own portion.
Koffing's plan was simple and fierce—he was going to drag her back to that exact memory, force some hot food down her throat, and keep her alive. She couldn't stay locked in that golden cage starving herself to death.
They walked in absolute silence down the deserted pavements, the city center completely dead at this hour. Every few steps, Koffing would turn around, floating backward as he let out encouraging, soft rumbles to keep her legs moving forward through the deep depression.
"Koff, koffing, koffing!"
"I know, Poopie... I'm right behind you," Angel whispered, her red, swollen eyes focused entirely on his purple form.
"Koff!"
Soon, the neon sign of the Rockstar Bar buzzed into view, throwing a warm orange glow across the pavement. The moment they stepped through the entrance, the middle-aged bar owner's eyes lit up, instantly recognizing the legendary duo.
"Hey there! If it isn't my cute little Angel!" the owner boomed cheerfully from behind the counter, wiping down the wood with a rag. "Oehh, and the little Koffing too! I haven't seen you both for quite some time! Everything going well, I hope? I bet you're all here for a Special Blaziken Ramen!"
"Koffing! Koff, koff!" Poopie rumbled happily, floating up to the counter.
"Excited little fella, are ya! Still can't get over how a Koffing of all Pokémon turned into the cutest little fella ever!" the owner chuckled, leaning forward.
"Koffing!"
Angel didn't let out a single syllable. She merely slithered onto a barstool, dropping her head down as a heavy, dark cloud of pure sorrow settled over her shoulders. The bar owner's smile faltered slightly as he took in her pale, hollow face and the distinct eyebags bruising her skin. He didn't know the exact details, but as a seasoned bartender in a rough city, he knew a soul-crushing heartbreak when he saw one. This girl was going through absolute hell.
But that was all the information he needed. It was his personal code, his lifelong job, to bring a beaming smile back to his customers' faces through food filled with raw passion and love.
He could see the girl wasn't willing to communicate or speak a single word, but it didn't even matter. Koffing had completely stepped up, taking on the dual role of the buyer and the caretaker. Moving with absolute, deliberate care, Koffing floated right next to Angel's jacket, nudging her pocket. She didn't mind the intrusion, letting him do exactly as he pleased.
Koffing carefully maneuvered his face until his mouth caught the edge of her PMB Card (Pokémon Mercantile Bank Card). Snatching the plastic tightly between his teeth, he floated across the counter and dropped it right in front of the owner's hands.
The bartender's eyes softened, a look of profound respect crossing his face as he looked at the floating poison cloud. "Aren't you the smart and handy fella today," he said softly.
"Koff!"
"Taking care of our Angel, huh? You're a real loyal Pokémon, buddy. Not many creatures out there can do what you can," the owner smiled, tapping the counter. "Tell you what, fella! It's a special buy-one-get-one-free night, plus a fifty percent discount just for you guys. So, what's the order, fella?"
"Koff, koff!"
"Hahaha! Why did I even ask! Of course you want the Blaziken Ramen Special!" the owner leagues ahead laughed loudly, the sound echoing through the empty bar.
"Koffing!"
"Sure thing, buddy, that would be exactly 50¥" the owner said, picking up the card. "Cash or swipe?"
"Koffing!"
"Swipe it is, huh? Haha," the bartender chuckled, walking over to the registers.
He slid the PMB Card through the machine, but a sharp error beep cut through the air. The card was brand new—part of the wealth Odin had just unlocked for her—and it hadn't been registered for automatic, contactless swiping yet. It required a physical chip insertion and a security pin number that Angel was far too comatose to type in.
The bartender looked at the error screen, then looked back at the loyal Koffing waiting anxiously by the counter, and then at the broken girl staring blankly at the wood. He didn't hesitate. He shut the register drawer with a click, sliding the card back over, completely acting like the payment had cleared without a single hitch.
"Alright, buddy! It's completely done! The pay went through flawlessly!" the owner lied with a warm, roaring grin, rolling up his sleeves as he headed toward the blazing kitchen burners. "Two Special Blaziken Ramens, coming right up!"
After waiting for a bit, the owner finally brought the two hot, steaming bowls of Blaziken Ramen to the table, clattering them down alongside a clean pair of wooden chopsticks. "Enjoy your meal!"
Koffing stared down at the hot broth, his mind racing with the memory of that park bench. Because he had no arms, Angel had to feed him, this time he desperately wanted to replicate exactly what Angel had done for him and Odin on that first night. He wanted to take care of her.
He opened his jaws wide and clumsily tried to clamp the chopsticks into his mouth, tilting his head to steady his grip so he could try to feed Angel. But the sticks kept slipping loose from his slick teeth, clattering loudly against the table. He tried again, his round body straining, but whenever he attempted to grab the thick noodles with the sticks, he constantly failed. The chopsticks spun out of his mouth entirely, hitting the floor.
This scene was completely heartbreaking for the bar owner to watch. He clenched his jaw and turned away toward the sink; he knew it was absolutely not his place to interfere or ruin the creature's pride.
Koffing kept trying and trying, refusing to stop, but the constant failure was beginning to brew into a hyper-volatile frustration deep inside his chest. He kept lunging at the sticks, only to meet more and more failure, frustrating him even more for being totally useless. He felt a burning rage at his own lack of arms, a deep hatred for his own physical limitations when it mattered the most to help Angel pull herself out of the dark.
The owner was just about to stand up, slide out from behind the counter, and put an end to this heartbreaking scene, but Angel was quicker. Her slender hand gently wrapped around Koffing's warm, purple body, halting his frantic movements.
"Stop it, Poopie, that's enough... I'm so sorry for putting you through this... I'm sorry... it's all my fault..."
She pulled his heavy, floating frame straight into her chest, burying her face into his hide as she pressed a deep kiss against the top of his head.
"I'm sorry... please forgive me, Poopie... I didn't realize I was hurting you through my own selfish actions... so please... stop... its okay... please... im sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking as the tears began streaming down her eyes. But she tightly held herself back, gripping her chest to stop from breaking down into a hysterical mess once more.
"Let me feed you."
Angel picked up a fresh pair of chopsticks, pulled a perfect loop of noodles from the rich broth, and blew softly on them. After confirming the temperature was exactly right, she fed Koffing his very first bite for the day and night. She fed him in absolute, heavy silence, and Koffing swallowed the warm food in silence as well, the emotional connection between them tightening in the quiet bar.
Eventually, there was nothing left in his bowl. Angel reached over, pulled the second bowl of Blaziken Ramen toward herself, and began eating. It was her first meal for the day and night as well. The exact same scene played out. She forced the hot noodles down her throat in absolute silence, while Koffing rested heavily on her lap, his stomach finally full.
The bar owner smiled softly from behind the counter, satisfied to see her finally regaining a shred of her will, watching the food go down. Soon, her bowl was completely done too, her stomach full and fed.
She slid off the stool, cradling Koffing against her chest, and walked straight up to the counter. She bowed her head low, thanking the owner for his sincerity, thanking him for the food, thanking him for his help, and thanking him for entertaining Poopie. She raised her frame, only to instantly bow deep a second time.
"Sorry for the trouble... sorry for my behavior... sorry for causing you to worry... sorry for being so selfish... sorry for—"
The owner stopped her right there, reaching across the wood to lift her shoulders and pull her into a tight, fatherly hug. "No need for any of that, Angel. The fact that you are talking and actually ate my food is more than enough for me. I don't know what kind of dark shit is going on with you, but I pray for only the best for you. I pray that whatever problems you are going through, you find your answers deep inside your heart. I pray that both you and Koffing fight right through it!"
The three of them stayed together for a little while longer, letting the residual warmth fill the quiet bar before finally bidding their goodbyes.
The walk back through the clean residential streets of the city center was completely peaceful and quiet. Before they knew it, they were already home, slipping through the front door of the three-story townhouse. They went straight up to the master bedroom, which had an attached luxury shower room. Angel slowly took off all her clothes, letting the fabric pool on the floor, and turned on the hot water. She seated Poopie carefully on a dry eye-level shelf where he had a full, nice view of her beautiful and gorgeous petite body as she stepped under the streaming spray. Her body might have been petite, but it was incredibly curvaceous and alluring—skinny but perfectly shaped and formed into an hourglass silhouette. She radiated a completely fragile, intensely feminine energy, the exact type that makes a man want to protect her and throw his life away just to see her smile or get a single glance in their direction.
Eventually, she finished washing her skin under the hot water, drying herself with a plush towel until her body was warm. She didn't bother wearing any clothes at all. Moving with a strange, sudden stillness, she grabbed Poopie, walked over to the massive bed, and dropped straight onto the mattress completely naked.
She held Poopie right in between her bare boobs, cradling his round, purple frame tightly against her soft flesh, and began speaking to him in a soft, quiet whisper that cut through the silent room.
"Odin's alive... I can feel him, Poopie... I felt it... it's hard to explain, but I can just sort of tell he's alive. Some sort of weird feeling... a connection... but this finally confirms it for me. He hasn't abandoned me at all... my love... my dear sweet Odin... I knew you loved me. I knew you would never abandon me. If you're in trouble... just let me deal with it, my love, my Odin... let me come find you... no, I'll find you."
Hearing those words, Koffing felt a sudden, weird chill ripple straight through his body. Something didn't quite feel right about that. The pitch-black, obsessive intensity bleeding from her voice genuinely scared him at that exact moment. There was something definitely wrong, a terrifying switch flipping inside her mind.
But being the ultimate loyal simp, he chose not to speak up or ruin the moment. Instead, he forced himself to relax and go to sleep, happily enjoying her breasts as his soft pillow for the night.
Then, Angel lay flat on her back, shifting her weight against the soft mattress. She instinctively spread her legs wide open beneath the blankets, her unhinged, obsessive Yandere mind still desperately, frantically hoping that Odin would violently break into their own house in the middle of the night, tear the covers back, and wake her awake with his massive cock deep inside her, fucking her cunt silly as a surprise return, leaving his thick cum dripping out of her pussy onto the high-end sheets.
But the front door remained deadlocked, and she slept sobbing and crying in the dark, with her loyal Poopie cradled tightly in her arms as her only source of comfort.