"Torterra, use Stone Edge!" Harold Pierce, nineteen, shouted.

A massive quadruped with an impressive tree growing on its back lifted up onto its hind legs before slamming its front legs down onto the battlefield. Pointed stones were then fired off at the opponent's Pokémon, a bipedal simian with a flaming head, battering the Fire-type down to a single knee.

The video paused and Harold Pierce, twenty-six, set the remote down on the neighboring couch cushion. His blue eyes focused on Damon, his five-year-old son, who sat on the floor by his feet. Damon rubbed his eyes and then looked up at his father with a bright grin.

"Did you see that, son? I was never worried about Torterra facing a Fire-type like Infernape, because of his Ground-typing," Harold explained.

"Daddy. My eyes hurt," Damon responded.

Harold paused a moment. It was late. Damon was probably just tired. He cleared his throat and resumed the video of his first League battle. Harold watched his younger self quickly finish his opponent's Infernape off with a powerful Earthquake.

"See, son!" Harold exclaimed, "It's great to have your Pokémon know a variety of move types! In this battle, Torterra used Grass, Rock, and Ground-type attacks that…"

"My eyes hurt," Damon cut his father off with a complaint.

Harold looked down at his son and smiled affectionately. He picked him up and set Damon on his lap. He was just tired. Harold was only going to keep him up for a moment longer. Harold ruffled his son's black hair.

"Types are both important and unimportant. They can make and break a battle, or be completely useless. What will always be important in a battle is the Trainer's intelligence," Harold explained, "You'll see when you begin Trainer School."

"Daddy… I can't see," Damon revealed.

"Huh?" Harold responded, confused.

He turned Damon around and Harold stared into his young son's dulling blue eyes. Harold's own blue eyes widened and he felt his heart drop suddenly.

"I can't see," Damon added, tears forming in his continually dulling eyes, "I can't see, Daddy."

~Thirteen Years Later~

It was a morning like any other for Damon Pierce slumbered peacefully in his bed. A white cane rested against the wall between his bed and nightstand. An alarm clock, sunglasses, and a specially made Holo Caster sat on the nightstand. The clock ticked to six o'clock and immediately started buzzing, waking Damon.

"Six o'clock a.m.," the clock told him in a monotonous voice.

Damon groaned, rolling onto his side to face the clock. He listened to it buzz and repeatedly tell him the time until it was six-o-one in the morning before reaching toward the alarm clock. Damon felt the top of its smooth surface until he found the oversized snooze button. With the alarm clock silenced, Damon rolled back onto his back, and snuggled further into his blanket.

A knock on his bedroom door cut off Damon's attempt to fall back asleep and he glared angrily at the ceiling. The door opened and an aged Harold stepped inside. Salt had sprinkled into his black pepper hair and he smiled affectionately at his grumbling son.

"You know you can't sleep in on your big day, right?" Harold asked him.

"Obviously not," Damon responded, swinging his legs around so he could sit at the edge of his bed.

Damon had grown into a handsome, young man with his black hair short and manageable. His dull blue eyes stared blankly wherever his face pointed. He had a lean, average build and stood just under six feet tall. Some light stubble adorned his face and Damon knew he would have to go to his barber to be nice and clean-shaven again.

Harold fought the urge to help his son reach for his cane. Damon grabbed the cane and used it to detect anything that he could trip over. There was nothing in the vicinity, so Damon stood. He reached back onto his nightstand and grabbed the pair of sunglasses. Damon kept them folded and slid one of the temples behind his shirt, so his glasses would hang against his chest. He swished his cane back and forth as he approached his father.

Harold stepped out of the way to allow his son to leave his bedroom. Damon kept his free hand on the wall and glided it against the cool surface while slowly walking toward the bathroom. The first door on the right from Damon's bedroom meant he arrived at his destination. He opened the door and disappeared into the bathroom.

It had been thirteen years since Damon first lost his eyesight due to a rare genetic disorder carried from his mother's side of the family. It had been thirteen years of struggling to adapt to a world he could no longer see. It had been thirteen years of Harold blaming himself for it all.

After getting himself hygienically ready for the day, Damon slowly descended the stairs to the ground floor of his home. The smell of fresh fruit and pancakes filled his nose and he smiled.

"You didn't have to make breakfast," Damon told his father.

"Of course I did," Harold responded, "You're graduating today, and I couldn't be prouder."

Damon continued smiling as he tapped his cane over to the kitchen in search of the table. He found one of the chairs and pulled it out for himself to sit on. Harold once again had to fight the urge to help his son out. Damon had become so independent over the past couple of years. He had gotten sick of always needing someone's help due to his disability, so Damon had put all of his focus and energy into the senses he had. It allowed him to smell exactly what food his father was cooking from the other room. All of the sensory training Damon put himself through allowed him to reasonably reach to his dream of becoming a Pokémon Trainer.

Despite the disability, Damon could react quickly enough to sound that he could still perform admirably in a battle. He placed a respectable third place in his class at Trainer School. It was enough for him to automatically be given a Trainer Card, the license every Pokémon Trainer would need to pursue the profession. All Damon had to do was deal with a lengthy graduation ceremony in which he would be forced to stand around at school for hours. First, at noon, was the practice ceremony where the headmaster would instruct the graduating class what they can and cannot do during the actual graduation ceremony, which was not until five o'clock in the evening.

There was a knock on the front door and Damon moved to stand, but Harold cut him off by placing the finished pancake platter and fresh fruit in front of his son.

"I got this, kiddo. Eat your fill," Harold told him.

Damon did not need to be told twice to eat his fill of one of his favorite breakfast dishes. He grabbed a fork and knife his father left beside the plate and stabbed three pancakes at once, transferring them over from the platter to his plate. Damon smelled the fresh Berries and located the Oran Berries amidst the variety. They were his favorite, so Damon topped his pancakes with them. The overload of scents prevented him from noticing the new scent entering his home. The clinking of silverware scraping against his plate deafened the approach of ankle boots. The sweet, fluffiness of the pancakes and balanced flavor of the Oran Berry distracted Damon enough for Savannah Hawthorne to sneak up on him.

He felt arms snake around his chest as Savannah hugged him from behind. Her long, wavy, red hair tickled either side of his face. Damon felt something firm pressed against the back of his head. That was the final detail he needed to identify who was hugging him. Damon knew the feel of those breasts anywhere.

"Hey babe," he greeted his girlfriend with a mouth full of food.

"Oh no. You made him pancakes?" Savannah asked Harold as she pulled a chair up to sit next to Damon.

Savannah met Damon when her family moved to Vaniville Town five years ago and she started attending Trainer School alongside him. It was a definite meet cute moment when they first came into contact. Savannah had hit puberty early and "the new girl's bust" had already become a hot topic of her first day. Someone thought it would be funny to shove Damon, who had yet to perfect his coordination, into the new girl. Naturally he shot out his hands to catch himself onto anything, and unfortunately he did so right onto Savannah's breasts. She failed to recognize he was blind until after she knocked him out with a single punch. Fast forward five years, and Damon and the redheaded knockout were in a relationship for the past three.

Savannah was average height for a Kalosian woman, five feet, four inches tall, and as mentioned before boasted an impressive bust that she both loved and hated at the same time. Her fire red hair flowed down past her shoulders like a flaming waterfall. She had sparkling green eyes that could just light up whenever she felt excited about something. Freckles speckled her body seemingly from head to toe. Everything about her was heat, fire, and passion and Damon did not need to be able to see her to know she was beautiful.

"Are you excited about graduating, Savannah?" Harold asked as he served her a couple pancakes before taking the rest.

He was always prepared for the occasional Savannah visit and promptly cooked extra for her. In cases where she did not visit or had already eaten or simply was not hungry at the time, he and Damon would happily eat the leftovers.

"I'm just happy to finally leave this Arceus forsaken town and see the world," Savannah admitted.

"Wow… bragging about seeing the world. Real nice, babe," Damon joked and was promptly punched on the shoulder.

Savannah shook her head while Damon and Harold stifled respective laughter. She took another bite of her food and felt immensely at ease with them for company. It was a stark improvement to her home life between her mother constantly riding her for every little "imperfection" and her father just… being there, drinking. The thought of it all ruined the moment of peace Savannah had. Damon suddenly reached out and squeezed her knee reassuringly as if he could sense her mood shift.

After breakfast, Damon and Savannah returned to the former's bedroom where he closed the door enough to be within his father's 'No Closed Doors' policy. Savannah had made herself at home atop Damon's bed and he approached, leaning his cane against the wall near where he then sat beside her.

"We graduate and then we meet with Professor Sycamore tomorrow," Damon stated, "I can't believe the day's finally here."

"I know," Savannah responded, leaning into Damon's shoulder, "I wish we could skip the ceremony and just… leave already though."

"I agree, and we would, but my Dad really wants to see me graduate," Damon told her.

"I get it," Savannah softly spoke in return, "Wanna make a bet for how drunk my Dad will be?"

"That's beyond messed up," Damon admitted.

"It is," Savannah agreed, "I say you could smell the whiskey on his breath."

Damon smirked and shook his head. He felt… wrong talking about her father in such a disrespectful way. While he had a habit to drink quite too much, and during inappropriate times, he was always kind to Damon. Savannah's mother, on the other hand, disapproved of their relationship wholeheartedly, and was not afraid to voice that disapproval. She often failed in understanding that Damon was just blind; not blind and deaf, because he overheard every little remark she made about how he was too "damaged" for her daughter. Savannah was a bit off, and Damon did not need to see to realize this.

"Something happen at home?" he asked.

"No. Why do you ask?" Savannah responded.

"I just… got a vibe is all," Damon explained, "You can always talk to me, Red."

"It was just the same old brand of shit. My Mom got on my ass about only being the second best Trainer in our year and my Dad… just asked for a drink," Savannah responded.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pressed," Damon apologized.

Savannah nodded in agreement and then sighed. Damon knew she needed a distraction, so he slid across her lap to the leg opposite from where he sat beside her. Savannah smirked and interlocked her fingers against the back of Damon's neck.

"How long until your Dad comes to check on us?" she asked.

"Long enough for us to have some fun," Damon responded, quickly pecking her on her lips.

Savannah grinned, laying back on his bed, and bringing Damon down on top of her. He laughed a little bit and started kissing her collarbone. Savannah quickly got tired of being on her back and rolled Damon onto his. She straddled his lap and they made out heatedly, grinding her body against his. Damon slid a hand up the side of Savannah's body, starting to lift her shirt, and reveal her pale, freckled torso. Damon managed to cup a breast in his hand, palming it like a Watmel Berry, but then his bedroom door burst open. Savannah shot to her feet and adjusted her clothes. Harold cocked an eyebrow at the young couple as Damon sat up sheepishly.

"I'm not ready to be a grandfather, nor am I ready to lose my son to your mother's wrath," he stated.

"Got it, Mr. Pierce," Savannah responded, trying to hide her embarrassment.

"Are you done embarrassing the living hell out of us, Dad?" Damon asked.

"Nope. Never gonna be done doing that, kiddo. Just wait until your wedding," Harold responded.

"Go away!" Damon exclaimed, chucking a pillow in the general direction of his father's voice.

It hit the wall beside the door, but Harold took the message, and left without closing the door one bit. Damon lay back, closing his eyes tightly, and then Savannah lay next to him. The mention of marriage sent Damon in for a loop. He and Savannah had been dating for three years up to this point. They said the L-word. They have had sex. Were they now expected to marry now that school was behind them? Damon wondered what she was thinking.

"Your Dad's always so funny," she told him, "I wish my parents were more like him."

"He's embarrassing, but he loves me. He loves you, too. Hell, I think he loves you more than he loves me," Damon responded, opening his eyes.

"I know he loves me more than you, because I'm just that awesome," Savannah countered.

Damon chuckled and shook his head. Savannah turned onto her side and kissed his cheek.

"Don't worry about being interrupted, sweetie. We'll be all alone starting tomorrow," she whispered into his ear seductively while rubbing a hand against his crotch.

Damon could not help but smile. He put off his prior worries and started playing with Savannah's boobs, making her laugh. The sweet sound filled his ears and Damon kept on grinning.

The practice ceremony was long and tedious and annoying as all hell, but it was a requirement for all who wished to graduate at the real ceremony later tonight. Damon sat toward the back of the class as they were all sorted by their last names. He wished to have the last name Hayes or Hart so he could sit next to Savannah, but here he was sitting a couple rows away from her.

It was also hot out. Why could they not graduate in November or December? Who wanted to sit out in the sweltering heat of a stupid June day? Damon sighed with annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose, and then stood up alongside his row as they were called to do their practice march. They were instructed not to do any kind of speech, gesture, or celebratory maneuver during the ceremony. All they could do was walk up on stage, thank the Headmaster, and obtain their diploma.

It was such a tedious time that this writer could not care any less to write about it much longer. Fourth wall be damned.

Damon found himself doing the very thing he had practiced hours beforehand. Luckily it was much cooler outside. When his row was called up, he slowly trekked alongside them, and rejected a staff member's assistance up the stairs to the stage. Damon received his diploma and then hurried back to his seat as fast as he felt comfortable going. He felt the cool, laminated surface of his certificate and smiled to himself.

After the graduation ceremony ended, Damon found himself being pushed around by the escaping former students. No one had any respect for the blind guy. He took it out on their ankles and shins; however, viciously swatting his cane against them in a desperate attempt to avoid being trampled by the crowd. Finally, he tripped, and fell face-first into something familiarly soft and firm.

"Hey Savannah," Damon greeted into her breasts.

He righted himself and could smell whiskey. Oh dear Arceus, Damon realized, he had just face planted into Savannah's chest in front of her parents.

"Ahem… I'd say watch where you're going, but we all know that's impossible," Savannah's mother, Susanna chimed in.

"Mom," Savannah warned.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Damon," Susanna stated as unconvincingly as possible, "Congratulations on graduating."

"Nice to see you as well, Susie," Damon responded.

He could feel the venom in her stare and heard Savannah choking back laughter. The stench of whiskey on Larry Hawthorne's breath continued assaulting Damon as he put an arm around his shoulders.

"We're very proud of you, dude," Larry stated.

"Thank you, Mr. Hawthorne," Damon responded, using his cane to lift the older man's arm off of his person.

Larry did not care and simply took out a flask to drink its emptiness away. Savannah sighed in defeat, but then Damon found her hand to hold. Susanna looked down at the hand holding display and cocked an eyebrow in annoyance.

"Come along, Savannah," she ordered her daughter.

"Yeah, no. I was gonna spend some time with Damon. I'll be home later tonight," Savannah responded.

"That was not a request," Susanna pointed out haughtily.

"Good for you, Mom, but neither was my response," Savannah countered.

Damon imagined an announcer hyping up the festering mother/daughter brawl. Neither woman backed down. They needed a miracle.

"There you guys are!" Harold exclaimed, pushing his way through the flood of students and their families to them.

Angels sang at the arrival of Harold Pierce. Damon felt like dropping to his knees and praising the heavenly light that was his father. Susanna gave him a tired look.

"Hello Harold," she greeted him.

"Hey Susie. Hey Larry. Whew! Larry! You smell like a bar!" Harold exclaimed, laughing to himself.

Susanna found herself turning red as some of the parents looked their way. She grabbed her husband's shoulder and started leading him away from the crowd.

"Come along, Savannah!" she barked.

"I'll drop her off later tonight! I was gonna take the lovely couple out to dinner to celebrate their accomplishments," Harold responded.

Susanna scoffed haughtily and relented, dragging her intoxicated husband away. Once they were both out of sight, Harold turned toward the freshly-graduated young adults.

"Do you two have to leave tomorrow?" he asked them, "I think your Mom might wind up poisoning me after that stunt."

"Looks like I have a funeral to plan," Damon told Savannah.

"I'll help as much as I can, sweetie. I'm so sorry for your loss," she responded.

"Alright you pesky kids! Let's go get some food in our bellies!" Harold exclaimed, marching off toward the parking lot.

Damon and Savannah did not need to be told twice about heading off for free food. They followed Harold through the sea of people to the parking lot, climbed into the backseat of his truck together, and Harold drove off away from the Central Kalosian Trainer School.