Ken let out a silent sigh and gazed out the window of the car with his head propped up on his fist. Beside him in the opposing back seat of the car was his sister, Jessica, who likewise said nothing, just as quiet as he was. The boy had dressed to travel. Black tennis shoes, black pants, a red short sleeve T-shirt, and a black heavy jacket. Many of his friends had teased him on his almost Gothic appearance before, dark hair untamed and falling over his pale green eyes a bit. He had recently purchased a few items vital for his upcoming quest – trainer's belt, potions, Pokèballs. He'd spent enough time foraging for berries so he was well off in that department and his father had dug up a Great Ball for him and his old Pokègear.
Ken and Jessica's parents didn't try to strike conversation, though their thoughts were all drifting towards the same general thing. Ken Koronov, fifteen, about to begin his journey as a Pokèmon Trainer, albeit a little later than he had in mind. They drove across the vast land at a little beyond the speed limit in the Camaro, the bright sun blazing down and forcing heat waves to rise off the road in a watery illusion.
Ken's father, John, turned off onto the appropriate exit, approaching a town called Littleroot. Ken turned his attention to the front of the car and observed through the front window, gazing at the land that he planned on exploring. The dark green car pulled up on the main street of the tiny town and parallel parked. Wordlessly, all that could have been said having been said already, John popped the trunk and Ken stepped out after disengaging the door lock. He walked around to the back and grabbed up his backpack, slipping the straps over his arms and above his shoulders, pulling on the loose nylon ends to tighten it appropriately.
Ken's mother stepped out of the car slowly and without shutting the door behind her, walked over to Ken and hugged him tightly. The Trainer to be hugged her back in a similar manner, body language speaking louder and truer than words ever could. Aleena rubbed his back softly before releasing him, and she smiled warmly to him, just a bit taller.
"You'll keep in touch, yes?" Her accent was heavy Russian, and somewhat lined with emotion that she was doing rather well at restraining.
"Of course, mother. Thanks… for everything."
He smiled back at her genuinely, his voice carrying the same accent, if not as pronounced, and they embraced one more time for a brief moment before breaking away. Aleena cleared her throat a bit, though not to speak, but to mask a potential whimper, and gave a small wave before retreating into the car. Ken shut the trunk and brought his hand up in an open and motionless wave, to which John returned through the rear view mirror, and to which Jessica returned as well, turning around in her seat. And with that, the car merged with the almost non-existent traffic, and pulled away.
Ken found himself staring for a moment, already missing them, but he thrust such emotions aside and turned to the opposite side of the street where the Lab was. Bringing up that gloved hand again to brush aside a lock of jet-black hair that had fallen across his face, he crossed the street with a quick stride, and pushed open the glass door.
Inside the large, white and non-descript building were two researchers scribbling down notes on notepads, and the person he needed to see, Professor Birch. The professor was lounging in an office chair, staring at a bright computer screen with an unseen expression. Forcing back some reluctance, he walked across the white tile floor towards the man in a white lab coat and cleared his throat a bit to get his attention. Success coming about from such a tactic, Birch turned in his chair, spun by his legs, and he regarded Ken with mild confusion and maybe amusement for a moment before he spoke hesitantly.
"Ken Koronov?"
A nod in response. "Yes."
"You're here for the Pokèmon?"
"Yes, sir."
Birch chuckled and stood up from his chair, waving his hand dismissively. "No need for that 'Sir' business. Come." He walked over several paces to another section of counter, and he grabbed a case, and set it on the table behind him. Beckoned as he was, Ken moved to the other side of the table and waited with his hands gripped together loosely behind his back. Birch released the two locks, moved the metal clips, and opened it to reveal three Pokèballs.
"So, here they are. As a part of our deal, please select one. Have you decided between Torchic, Mudkip, and Treeko?"
"Can I see them all first, Mr.…?"
Birch nodded. "Yes, of course. And please, Mr. Birch or Professor Birch will do."
No sooner had he finished his words, he tapped the releasing buttons on each sphere and released each of the starters onto the ground beside the table, each one appearing in a flash of red light with a cry. Ken peered over at each of them with a speculating gaze, pondering carefully over each of the small creatures. They all seemed to be rather passive, just observing their surroundings with curious and innocent gazes each.
Mudkip padded casually over to Birch's chair and, unstopped, tapped experimentally at the side of it. Treeko sat down where he, or she, Ken wasn't sure, was and continued to observe, though in a more lazy fashion. Torchic looked about before catching Ken's gaze. With shaky coordination and balance, the flame chick made its way over to Ken, and chirped up at him questioningly. Ken couldn't help but smile just a bit, and he knelt to offer his hand to the bird in greeting.
"Huh… cute little thing. I think I'll take this one, Professor Birch." Ken said in a softer tone than he was used to.
Birch took the two balls belonging to Treeko and Mudkip, and recalled the two, settling the devices back in the case and handing Torchic's to Ken.
"Right, here you are."
Ken took the ball after Birch's offer, but did not return the Torchic quite yet. Torchic sniffed at the proffered hand a little before sneezing uncomfortably hot air on him, though Ken did not offer any potentially startling reaction. Carefully, he lifted the very warm little bird up and into his arms. Birch closed the case and pulled out a key ring, fiddling with it before unlocking a cabinet next to the counter section that the case had been on. Grabbing a small device, he set it on the table, grabbed the case afterwords, and set it back in its original position.
"Don't forget. 100." Birch noted as Ken took the Pokèdex and placed it in the side pocket of his pack.
"I won't. 100." He confirmed, Torchic closing it's eyes and relaxing in the hold of its new Trainer. Ken clipped the ball to his belt with his free hand, and hand freed once again, he shook Birch's.
"Thank you, Professor. I won't let you down."
"I know you won't, Ken. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
Ken restrained a scoff. "I'm not trying to out do him or anything, you know."
"Of course not. Just saying, it's in your genes, is all."
"I guess we'll see, huh? I'll give you a call when I register 100."
And with that Ken ended the handshake and started to walk towards the exit door. The small Pokèmon had dozed off by now, comfortable around Ken, apparently. After several paces, he exited those doors and into the Hoenn region with the Torchic in the crook of his arm. Ken, though willing to take on the challenge he had presented to himself, needed one more thing before he set off. Torchic still napping away in his gentle hold, he moved over to a bench and settled down there. One hand still free, he reached inside his pack and flipped open the Pokèdex, and pointed the scanner at his Pokèmon. Torchic, female. Scratch and Growl as the move set.
Satisfied, he replaced the electronic encyclopedia into his coat pocket for easier access later, and waited. He wasn't eager to wade through tall grass and possibly battle other trainers and Pokemon when his own was still dozing off. Normally, the solution would be to wake the chick up, though, oddly, he found he had no desire to do so. The world wasn't going anywhere… he could wait.
You'd think that after all that time dozing off in the ball, she'd be well rested. He thought to himself with the faintest amount of agitation, though there certainly wasn't anything wrong with sitting with his new Pokèmon.
Must be a sleeper. Not necessarily a bad thing. Better that way, I suppose, rather than tired and pushing herself… not like I speak Pokèspeak anyway. Hopefully this Dex has a translate feature. Ken retrieved it from his pocket once more and flicked it open, gazing over the lit screen at options. Fiddling around with it, a far too loud of a voice for his liking spoke.
"This is the Pokèdex translation function. Simply-" Ken fumbled with the machine briefly, biting his lower lip, searching fervently for a volume adjuster.
"-Hold the Pokèdex to the Pokèmon, and-"
Torchic made a sound, waking up. Hissing in frustration at his slowness, he finally found a similarly helpful option and changed the Pokèdex from audio instruction to visual, so the words merely appeared on the screen. Too late, Torchic gave a small whimper and cracked open her eyes. Whatever negative feelings Ken had seemed to just melt away, oddly enough, and he sighed a bit.
"Hey there, sleepy. Sorry about that."
"Tor Torchic Tor?"
Ken stared at her for a moment before looking down at the Pokèdex, which had translated:
It's okay. Where am I?
Ken smiled just a little. "I'm glad you can understand me. You are in Littleroot town."
Torchic let loose a few syllables of her own species after that, and Ken glanced down briefly. Who are you?
"I am Ken Koronov, and your new Trainer."
Really? Uhm… what am I to do, then, master?
Ken blinked at the translation. "You can call me Ken, for starters… I'm not sure, though. How do you feel?"
I feel good, Ken. A little drowsy, maybe.
"Well, if you're up for it, we can get started and head to the next town. If not, it's alright to wait for awhile. I'd like to get there by tonight though, for sure."
We can go now. I'm ready, for you.
Ken sighed softly and slowly settled Torchic down onto his lap, where she settled in the fork of his legs and looked up at him curiously. Ken raised a brow at this, his loins heating up quickly under her very warm body.
"For me? Please, Torchic, just…"
He wasn't sure what to say, or at least how to say what he wanted to get across. He wanted to be her friend, not her master, but wasn't that sort of what he was? It certainly seemed so.
What's wrong, Ken?
The Trainer shook his head. "Nothing. Let's get going then."
And with no more than that, Torchic hopped from his legs and onto the ground, bouncing a little and absorbing the impact. She turned back to him as he stood up, and waited almost expectantly, bringing about confusion from Ken.
"What?" Ken asked, wondering if he'd done something wrong.
Aren't you going to recall me?
"Do you want to be recalled?"
Not particularly, to be honest, but…
"But nothing. Come on… I'm not your slaver, or master. Just your Trainer."
O-okay. Please, lead on.
And so he did after that. Ken was glad that she understood, or at least didn't argue or push to quell her confusion on that matter. He walked for the exit to the town, or at least the more scenic route. The region's recent, but unarguably vital modernization had connected every town by road, even Sootopolis. Such things disrupted Pokèmon and Trainers alike, making it so that if a Trainer really wanted to, his quest from town to town didn't have to be eventful at all.
That's not what Ken wanted though. Thankfully, governmental influences left the original paths used by trainers in their pilgrimage through Pokèmon infested territory from town to town untouched, and such paths were what Ken planned on taking. He stepped out from town boundaries and onto the Route, looking around. Very tall grass, impossible to see through. A few trainers or civilians, not totally certain as many non-trainers carried Pokèmon these days. In theory, he'd find out when they asked him to battle, or dismissed him. That was all that mattered, after all.
Slowly, he walked towards the first patch of tall grass, and glanced to his side to Torchic, who was waiting. She seemed anxious, and Ken didn't blame her. He wasn't going to be the one battling, and he was anxious. Wonderful creatures, Pokèmon, so willing to fight for their Trainers, even if they had just met him or her in a lab by chance no more than half an hour earlier.
He took a cautious step forward, and the action ended up coming to him. Unbidden, a Zigzagoon burst through the chest high cluster of grass and tumbled on the ground, shaking leaves from its coat and regarding Ken. Torchic quickly padded over in front of Ken and gave a small cry, challenging Zigzagoon. Ken raised the Pokèdex and went back to its standard function of identifying Pokèmon. He raised it to the opposing Pokèmon, and it was registered in the database.
One down, 99 to go. He thought to himself, almost disdainfully, before crying out.
"Torchic, attack! Scratch!" In theory, this should have worked. And in fact, it did. Torchic rushed forward, gave a small leap, and dragged her talons through the Pokèmon's fur and doing damage. In response, the raccoon like Pokèmon growled viciously, and even at a distance Ken could see the tremble.
Growl – Lowers opposing enemy Pokèmon's attack. He thought to himself, though still confident that Torchic's level would pull through, he ordered another Scratch. Zigzagoon stumbled and looked ready to collapse, but surprised Ken and countered attack, tackling Torchic. The chick, despite showing a lack of balance early, recovered quickly and clawed at Zigzagoon again, raking talons across the opposing Pokèmon's body. Zigzagoon was no longer able to hold out, and fell to the ground, legs giving way.
Ken hadn't ordered the next Scratch, though it was what he was going to do, so he could only be so mad at Torchic. She looked back to him with a look of triumph, panting softly, only slightly injured from the earlier attack.
I did well?
Ken chuckled. "You did fantastic!" He knelt down and picked her up, holding her closely to his chest in an embrace, to which she merely cheeped, though not in discontent. Ken did not hold such a thing for long, however, and he settled Torchic back down. "Very good work indeed." He finished.
I am glad.
Something struck Ken then and he rubbed at his jaw for a moment before pointing something out.
"Do you have a name, or…?"
Only what you give me, Ken.
He smiled. "Can you think of any names you'd like?"
Let me think about it?
"Of course. Well, let's try and get through here." He patted her softly on the head before standing and preparing to wade through the dense foliage on his way to Oldale.