A/N: This was supposed to have been published a long time ago, as my friend's birthday present. Oh well.
Music of Thunder
I had never seen the ocean before.
When I took my first breath of life, when I first opened my eyes, when I first broke through the dark depths that had encased me, shielded me from the world—all I saw was a world of grey and white: grey pods against a whitewashed background. Each pod contained a creature, creatures that looked different from how I looked, yet something about them made me sure that I was one of their kind.
I did not have much time to contemplate this, though. Shortly after I was born, I was moved to another place. This place was not a dull grey and white as the previous had been; on the contrary, it was colourful, comfortable-looking and cozy. I was not alone though; four creatures already inhabited the place. They were pale, tall and two-legged, probably from another species. The smallest one was the friendliest to me: we became fast friends.
And ever since then, I had known this place to be my home, and those creatures—humans—to be my companions.
When I grew a bit older, a bit stronger, the little human boy—Bobby—would take me out for regular walks. Occasionally, he would let me play and fight with some creatures of my kind— Pokémon, that was what they called us. And when I became tired, he would bring me to a huge building with a pink roof to replenish my energy. I often met other Pokémon there, and we would talk to each other. Most of the Pokémon I met there were much older than me, and wiser. Often, when they spoke to me, they would ask me where I lived, and I would always reply, "At Bobby's house, at the northwest corner of Cerulean City."
Then they would say, "No, I mean where you lived before that." I would describe to them the grey-and-white building in as much detail as I could recall, and sometimes, they would look at me in a strange way, with eyes full of—was it pity? Concern? Sadness? Then they would nod, and say no more.
Perhaps they thought that the grey building I was born in was too gloomy. Perhaps they were born in some fanciful apartment, some colourful and cheery environment.
One day, the rain poured down, and Bobby and I were forced to take shelter in the Pokémon centre again. Bobby sank into a bench, dripping wet and exhausted, but I had plenty of energy left in me to run about: I loved rainy days.
I found a Starmie resting peacefully in the shallow pool I usually played in, so I swam over to strike up a conversation. I found that I usually had lots more stuff to talk about with my fellow water-type Pokémon: after all, we shared more similarities.
After some casual talk, that inevitable question came again: "Where do you live?"
I replied cheerfully as how I had always replied others, but I decided to find out the mystery behind that question: "Why does everyone always ask that? And why do they give me funny looks whenever I say that I was born in a grey room?"
The Starmie looked at me thoughtfully. "Have you ever seen the ocean?"
I was puzzled by the foreign word. "Ocean? What is an ocean?"
"It is where your natural home should have been, where all our natural homes should have been, had we not been either captured or bred in captivity." She waved one of her pointy arms at me. "You, Squirtle, you are meant to be in the oceans. Neither of us was supposed to be enslaved by these humans to be used as tools, or be kept as pets."
Her words struck me, and I was stunned beyond disbelief. "Enslave us? But Bobby's my friend! And what natural home? I have a comfortable bed, good fish to eat and even my own bathtub! Bobby's home is my natural home. What are you talking about?"
The Starmie fell silent, as though defeated by my argument. Then, unexpectedly, she spoke again.
"Do you hear it?" she asked softly.
"Hear what?"
"The music in the rain," she said simply. "Can't you hear it? It's calling you home."
I listened hard. The storm was raging now, lightning flashes blinding the room, and deep echoes of thunder booming through the darkness. The rain just kept pattering down.
And all of a sudden, I heard it.
It was more beautiful that anything I had heard before. It was a joyous symphony of sounds, reaching out to me and singing to me in its melodious voice. Come to me, it crooned. Come to me.
Without thinking, without pausing, as though I were under orders, I got up from the pool and walked towards the soothing sound. I walked out of the Pokémon centre, into the rain, as though in a trance. Instinct told me the voice would lead me to somewhere beautiful, somewhere I wanted to be. I just kept walking, and walking…
"Squirtle! Where do you think you're going? Come back now!"
A pair of arms scooped me up. It was Bobby, sopping wet, with his clothes clinging to his skin. "Come one, little guy…home now…"
Home.
For the first time, it seemed to mean something different; I no longer thought of it as the brightly coloured room with its quaint feel, but of that voice, that song, fading in the rain, fading away…
"Look, Blastoise! The ocean!"
Bobby broke into a run. I followed him, trudging along with my heavy shell, whose immense weight I had not yet grown fully accustomed to. The fifteen-year-old turned around and looked at me, his eyes bright.
"Just over this stretch of water lies the Johto region! What'd you think? Let's go!"
However, I had not heard him; instead, I was staring at the vast expanse of deep blue behind him, sparkling and glittering like a bed of sapphires in the slanting sunlight.
The ocean.
It looked so different from what I had imagined all these years, yet I was so familiar; it was like an old friend, a friend that I had known all my life, but had never met before. I watched, hypnotized by the diffracted light bouncing off the gently ripping waves, drinking in its gemlike blue sheen.
"Blastoise, do you hear me? I said come!" I saw my trainer standing on the deck of what I assumed to be a ferry, beckoning me to board it. I joined the stream of other trainer and their Pokémon walking across the plank to the enormous metal boat, and in a few minutes' time joined my trainer on the deck. He patted me on my armour-like shell.
"The trip won't take too long, and with any luck we'll arrive at Johto tomorrow afternoon. I'll go and do some exploring, and I'm sure you'll want to do the same. So meet you here again by tomorrow morning okay? Just don't do anything stupid, like jumping off the ferry." He laughed, gave me a quick hug and disappeared into the crowd of trainers.
I watched him walk away, then turned my head back to look at the ocean again. Bobby had always given me quite a lot of freedom, for which I was grateful to him; yet, every since my encounter with the Starmie, I could not help but brood on what she had said. Were we Pokémon really not meant to be in captivity? Had the humans done us wrong by robbing us of our freedom, our true home?
But Bobby had not enslaved me, I reminded myself. He hadn't even tortured me. He had treated me as a respectable being, an equal. Yet, every time it rained, every time phrases of that song haunted me, all these thought would be washed away, replaced by only the desire to escape. But every time, Bobby would find me; however, he never scolded me, He would just pat me reassuringly, and lead me home, away from the music, from that song that told of the ocean…
I strained my ears to hear that music again, but all I could hear was the chatter of trainers, the splash of the waves caressing the shore and the low boom of the ferry as it departed from the shore. There was no inviting melody, no soothing sounds. I sighed and walked away from the deck to explore the rest of the ferry.
It was a gigantic place; once in a while I would bump into another wandering Pokémon, and we would greet each other politely, sometimes pausing for a brief conversation; I think found the food bar and had a delicious dinner of fish and seaweed. Just as I left the bar, I heard whimpering and angry noises coming from a corner. Curious, I went to investigate.
The source of commotion was from a bad-tempered girl of about twelve and her Pidgeotto, which was cowering in a corner. The girl was shouting at the poor Pokémon, punctuating every word with a stinging blow.
"How-many-times-must-I-tell-you-not-to-fly-up-when-the-opponent-uses-Blizzard?" She yelled and kicked the feebly stirring Pidgeotto, who passed out. She picked up the half dead creature, threatening to throw it—
But she never managed it, for she was blasted off her feet by a torrent of water. My anger had got the better of me. Suddenly, everything the Starmie had said made sense. Humans were vile, disgusting creatures who had enslaved us, tortured us. I watched with cruel satisfaction as the girl got to her feet unsteadily, terrified; humans were such weak creatures. Why did we ever submit to them? I nailed her down with another Hydro Pump before walking away. In the corner of my eye, I saw her scurry away.
The anger was still pounding through me as I stormed up the steps onto the deck, glaring at the dark waters that formed a reflection of the inky black sky. All humans were the same. Bobby might not have hurt me physically, but he did sometimes speak to me in that same commanding voice the girl had, almost as though I was his servant…
I felt something wet touch my check. Then another. And another.
Rain.
Soon, the drizzle grew stronger and stronger. Lightning illuminated the dark clouds against the sky, and thunder crashed down. A storm.
I heard the song again.
It was clearer than I had ever heard it, and it sounded different; instead of sounding lyrical and soothing, it echoed my resentment, it embodied my fury, it restated my frustration.
Even the waves joined in now. They grew higher and higher, slamming against the ferry.
I was one with the storm. My wrath gave it power, the power to destroy all.
The ferry now bobbed dangerously, like a helpless rubber duck in a bathtub. Trainers were pouring out from their cabins onto the deck now, lowering safety boats into the water, calling for their Pokémon, their faces white, scared. I smiled triumphantly. They deserved it.
All of a sudden, an extraordinary wave rose out of the water like a fearsome monster, smothering the deck, sending everyone into the water; the ferry snapped in two and began to sink slowly.
I looked around in the water. Trainers were everywhere, flailing their arms wildly, shouting for their Pokémon. I watched as a group of bird Pokémon flew away into the night, oblivious to their trainer's calling. The Pidgeotto I had seen earlier was amongst them. Other Pokémon, however, stayed behind, helping their trainers onto their backs and swam or flew to safety. What fools, I thought. Despite the rough waves, I was completely at home; this was where I was meant to be, after all.
Unexpectedly, I spotted Bobby. He had found a plank of wood, and was hanging on to it for dear life. I knew he would not be able to hold on to it for much longer. Serves him right, I thought.
He looked up and saw me: I could discern, even at this distance, the pleading look in his eyes. Blastoise, I saw him mouth. Blastoise, save me.
Memories sprang up. Memories of my trainer playing with me, teaching me; memories of him defending me when his parents scolded me for breaking an expensive ornament; memories of how he always smiled at me, how he never, ever scolded me no matter how badly I lost in a battle, and how concerned he always was about my injuries, no matter how slight they were…
As sudden as my ire had come, it vanished, to be replaced by sorrow, by pain. Not all trainers were the same. Bobby did not deserve to die. I swam towards him, and I saw a week smile form on his pallid face.
He reached out and wrapped his weak arms around my shoulders. I swam determinedly away from the wreck, leading him to safety.
The storm was still raging, rain poured down on me, but its voice was different now; it gave me strength, it encouraged me, every note in its melody a sweet elixir that returned my energy to me. My trainer and his water-sodden clothes weighed me down; still I pressed on. Land could not be far away…
As the first rays of light embraced the earth, I saw it: land.
With what seemed like the last of my energy, I heaved my trainer and me up the shore, onto safe land. There I placed him on a bed of grass. The people around this area would soon find him.
The rain had long since stopped, but the music lingered in the distance. Calling to me. Welcoming me.
Come to me, child, it sang. Come and rest.
I knew what I had to do.
Farewell, I thought, gazing at Bobby's peaceful features. Farewell, my trainer.
Then I turned and followed the familiar song, guiding me back to home.
My true home.
