Meant to be part of a 30-day challenge. Now a standalone.
Slate gray eyes looked at the pokeballs in front of them dispassionately.
"No," she said after a pause before setting her lips into a pouty frown.
"No?" The older man presenting the balls repeated. In all of his years as a Professor, a young trainer had never said no in response to being given their first pokemon. He gave the young girl a curious once over, noting her strange attire. She was wearing a black scrunchie to hold back a mass of blonde hair. Occasionally she would reach down and fiddle with the hem of her lacy black dress, absentmindedly swaying her black boots under the table. It was a lot of black for the little girl, even if she belonged to such a traditional town.
For the granddaughter of the famously feisty town elder she seemed quite unorthodox.
He looked at the elderly woman sitting beside the young girl, raising his eyebrows in question. She stayed stoic. Failing that, the professor looked at the elderly man leaning on his wife's chair. He looked at the young girl, bemused. Professor Rowan sighed and looked back to the young trainer-to-be. The surprisingly somber child noted the awkward feeling that had settled in the room and clarified. "I do not want any of these pokemon," she said politely. "Thank you."
Professor Rowan blinked, still incredibly confused at the response the youngster had given him. At least she was polite.
"Cynthia," the old woman spoke up sternly, "go outside and check on your sister."
The blonde girl nodded, "Yes, grandmother." She hopped off the chair after that and briskly went for the door. After the sound of the door closing echoed through the house the older woman cleared her throat.
"Ah," she sighed, "we were afraid little Cynthia would shrink from the path of the regular trainer. I am truly sorry." There was a deep breath before her tone adopted a storytelling quality, more used to calming scared children on long rainy nights. "Her father was a dragon tamer and her mother was a ranger. Quite often her parents would be called out to calm rampaging Gyarados – it's a dangerous job, mind you. One day her mother and father were out doing their jobs and…they didn't come home." Here she paused.
Cynthia's grandfather took up the story from there. "The international police placed Cynthia and her sister here with us. It still hurts her, because unlike her sister she was old enough to remember." Here his voice shifted from its somber undertone. "We caught her heading out by the Cycling Road, harassing passing trainers to see if they had any dragon eggs from Wayward Cave."
"She's so stubborn," the old woman grumbled.
The old man chuckled. "We put a halfhearted effort into stopping her, but she's keeping a Gible egg underneath her bed. It's not exactly safe, but…" he trailed off with a forgiving shrug.
Professor Rowan nodded. It wasn't exactly ideal but he could hardly bring himself to stop the young girl as long as the egg was being properly cared for. He spoke his concern aloud.
"That is how we found out," Cynthia's grandmother confirmed. "Blankets and one of our desk lamps disappeared. We found them with the egg."
The Professor nodded. "In that case, she is cleared to begin her journey once the egg hatches."
"Thank you," the older woman confirmed. She then pushed her chair back and strode across the room to the door. Opening it she called out, "Cynthia! You can come back inside now."
When Cynthia reappeared she glanced around the room nervously before scuttling back to her chair. She kept her head down, now playing with her dresses hem more in earnest. Professor Rowan cleared his throat and the young woman made eye contact. The liquid steel in her eyes struck him. She seemed to have solidified herself for whatever the outcome was going to be.
"After speaking with your guardians I have come to a decision regarding your denial of a lab-approved starting pokemon," he began formally. The little girl tensed. "You will be awarded your trainer card in preparation for your journey. This comes with the stipulation that your guardian will hold on to your card until you have a pokemon to accompany you."
Cynthia tilted her head in curiosity.
"Until your Gabite hatches, dear," her grandmother clarified.
The girl jumped a little. Shame and embarrassment clouded her eyes and a rosy blush dusted across her cheeks. "Of course," she murmured.
Rowan smiled gruffly as he slid the trainer card across the table. "I wish you all the best on your pokemon journey," he stated formally. With that he stood up and gathered his things to depart. The blonde hopped out of her chair with a quick 'thank you' and ran to her room.
Cynthia dove underneath her bed and stared at her Gible egg. For what felt like the thousandth time she pressed a steady palm to its rough surface. Heat and something else throbbed through her hand. The hiker who had handed it over to her explained that he had already been walking with it alongside his pokemon for a while. It was only a matter of time now. Something like excitement bubbled in her stomach and rose to clench in her throat.
A soft smile graced the little girl's usually somber face. She lay there on her stomach for a while before her grandmother entered. Cynthia didn't look up when the door closed once more with a soft click. The older woman kneeled on the floor next to her granddaughter. Reaching out carefully she tapped the egg a few times. A solid thunk reverberated in the room.
Cynthia jumped, seeming to break out of her trance. With a shaking breath she withdrew her palm from the egg. She turned to stare at her grandmother, tears glazing her eyes. The usually hard woman softened at the shaking of the egg. It would hatch soon.
She then turned to her granddaughter who whimpered a little. The blonde drew into herself, fear chasing across her eyes. Her grandmother pulled the young girl into her eyes. "You poor dear," she cooed, rocking the ten year old back and forth. They stayed like that until Cynthia dried her tears and the hiccups faded.
When the time came, she gathered her new dragon in her arms and didn't look back.
(She then crumbled behind a bush twenty feet from the town limit and cried again.)
. . .
Steven Stone was never called anything even remotely synonymous to a 'late bloomer' but right now he felt like one.
At nine years old he had made his father privy to his dream of traveling the world with a pokemon. His father was disappointed at the prospect of losing the prominent heir to his cooperate throne. The answer was no, but the blow was softened by the Beldum Steven received a week later. It was an extremely rare pokemon that his father sent for. He tried to be grateful.
Even though obedience came easily with his disposition Steven could not, would not, quell his desire to go and see the world. He wanted to see more than rich furniture and gourmet food and empty smiles. He did not want to grow up a spoiled rich kid and never get to experience real life. So the boy locked his desire away for the most part. The only guilty hope he let himself experience was asking for permission to go on a journey every year on his birthday.
Now he was thirteen, three years late for a journey.
The Beldum behind him hummed curiously. Its one eye was trained on its trainer who was currently pulling clothes out of his closet and stuffing them into a large backpack. Steven shushed the floating pokemon. It made a noise like metal clanging together quietly in acknowledgement.
Guilt and anticipation warred in the boy's chest as he stuffed the bag. Running away to see the world felt like a rash decision. He reasoned with himself that no, three years of waiting was more than enough time to make a decision like this. Steven was not thrilled at the prospect of hurting his father, though.
By no means was his father a bad man. Mr. Stone gave to all of the proper charities and most of his products sought to make life better for both pokemon and people. Unfortunately, he just wasn't the best father. It wasn't his fault that he was busy. The man tried his best to make sure that Steven wanted for nothing. He had always been well taken care of, but there was something artificial to knowing that the people who raised you were paid to do so.
Steven finally stood and swung his bag onto his back. Looking down over himself, he grimaced. He had managed to find a pair of black sneakers that still looked a little too nice, but he had only dress pants and formal shirts. With a sigh, he resolved to pick up a plain shirt at a Pokemart on the way to the pokemon lab in Littleroot Town. He would have only a day or two to get his trainer's certification before word got out that he was missing.
With a grunt, the teen forced his window open. The cool night air rushed into the room and calmed his flushed cheeks. Steven took a deep breath. He then turned to Beldum with a rather apologetic smile.
"Do you think you can lower us down?"
The steel type stared blankly at him for a moment. In all fairness Steven had been practicing with it on employing its electromagnetic abilities to pick things up. Unfortunately a rock and a teenage human boy were decidedly not the same thing. Beldum was about to give voice to its reservations by backing away from the window before it looked at its trainer's expression once more.
Even a steel type could be affected by the desperation in the boy's eyes. It looked like the same desperation an especially timid pokemon displayed upon being caught. This was very loosely controlled fear. He was trapped and would do anything to get out, to get away. Beldum could relate to that.
"You won't let me fall," Steven assured his pokemon, "we've practiced this. I believe in you."
A little zap of pleasure ran through the steel type at the words of encouragement. The descended from the window without incident, even though Steven rolled a little bit from their controlled fall. Beldum dinged in alarm. The silver haired boy shook his head before righting himself.
"Excellent job Beldum," he confirmed. The steel type looked at him curiously before sounding off cheerfully. Steven dusted himself off with a wistful smile. With the cover of night as their head start both new trainer and pokemon set off for Professor Birch's lab. They left Rustboro City far behind.
It did not take Mr. Stone long to realize that his son had run away. At first Officer Jenny's force was informed of the disappearance. They dropped the case eventually after it was clear that Steven was safe with no intention of being found. Steven did not contact his father. It was several years before his father was able to locate him in Dewford.
The corporate head met an astounding young trainer that day. Twice, the trainer had saved one of his employees from thugs. Once news of this assistance reached his ears he asked to speak to them personally. " I have a favor to ask of an amazing person like you," he began with a polite, if nervous, smile. "I understand that you're delivering a package to Slateport's Shipyard. Well, on the way, could you stop off in Dewford Town? I was hoping that you'd deliver a letter to Steven in Dewford."
Metagross was finally able to understand why they challenged the first Hoenn gym last.
Not every pokemon journey starts off with supportive parent(s).
-AC