"When you get back, I'm going to be the best goddamned Pokémon Master you've ever known." Had I known what I was getting myself into, I may have held my tongue. Then again, I've pretty much gotten to the point where it's completely pointless to try and tell myself that I can change the outcome of things by what I do or don't do.

The simple fact that you're reading this means that I've accomplished what I set out to do. I'd like to talk aside from the cryptic nature of this introduction, but it's hard to do without immediately launching into an explanation, which is what I plan to do shortly. I can't say I'm not happy, in the end, with how everything turned out, but I'm definitely happier now that it's over. Without being ridiculous any farther, I'll just pick up from a point where we both know we left off.

"Alright," your voice held a light chuckle, one I'd grown to love so well over the past six months or so, "I've got to go. I have a plane to catch." My tear-stained face turned up to yours and I leaned up to give you one last, emotion-filled kiss, ignoring the only other person at the airport at four in the morning, some man sitting on a nearby bench. "I love you."

"I love you too." I muttered, trying to put on a smile for you before turning to get back in the car. I didn't look back to you after that, but I should have. Not looking back to see you walk away was one of my first big regrets.

I slid into the passenger seat of the car with your dad, pulling the hood of my jacket up over my head, although he knew by this point that I had been crying. Already, my fingers missed being interlaced with yours, and it had been less than thirty seconds. As we pulled away, I took a deep breath, exhaling with a shaky sigh. For the next two and a half months, I would be without you. We sat through the ride in almost complete silence, your dad breaking it only once to comment on the construction that spanned the streets of the largest airport in the state during the busiest time of the year. I agreed with him, just to make things simple.

After what felt like the longest car ride in all of eternity, we pulled into the garage at the back of your house. Your dad led the way inside, and I said good night to your parents as I passed by their room, not stopping until I stepped over the threshold that separated your room from the rest of the house.

I reached up to touch the button on the remote that switched on the light. My eyes scanned over the room, now absent of your body, as well as all of your things. Mine were still strewn slightly about the room, exploding out of the larger-than-necessary suitcase I had brought along with me a week before. My eyes fell on your cat, who had curled up on your bed, and I shut the door most of the way to allow him to leave if he wanted. I carried the remote directly to the bed with me, retrieving the sheet that had somehow made its way to the floor and curling up among the thin fleece sheets that we had shared for so many nights previously. Your cat's ears presumably perked up as the fresh new wave of sobs hit my body, and the weight of his body flopped down next to me as I hid my face in the pillows to muffle the sounds from the thin walls that separated your room from your sisters'. I wasn't interested in your entire family coming in to ask me what was wrong or tell me they would miss you too.

I'm not sure how long I cried. All I know is that by the time I was done, I had essentially run out of tears. I finally slipped off to sleep, shivering slightly at the cold—you'd taken the thicker fleece blanket that had been on the bed, and I hadn't thought to ask for another. The last thing I thought of was you; how I so craved your warmth.

When I awoke, I immediately knew something was amiss. Even before blinking my eyes open and having to close them again, quickly, I knew three things. The first of these things was that it was warm, and I had gone to sleep cold. The second of these things was that it was bright, and unless someone had done some serious sneaking and work, there was no way even your light fixture was that bright. The third and final thing was that I was outside, and I was absolutely positive I had not gone to sleep outside.

My entire body ached like it did when I slept on the floor or the ground. This, I would come to realize, is because I had slept on the ground. Finally squinting my eyes open, I was able to take in my surroundings.

"Shit." I had to cough a bit after attempting to speak—my voice cracked a little bit, like it always did in the morning right as I woke up. I cleared my throat, and murmured the curse again.

I had obviously 'spent the night' in a sleeping bag, in the middle of what looked like a decent-sized clearing of a forest. The color of the leaves, as well as the light chirping of what sounded like birds, revealed that wherever I was, it was spring. A quick glance back revealed I had laid my head down on what looked like a fairly spacious backpack. I moved to unzip it, and hesitated. After a moment's pause to blink a few times and make sure I definitely wanted to do this, I opened it.

Clothes. Clothes and shoes and similar items; a water canteen, a few snack bars, and a pair of sunglasses. I dug a little deeper and produced a plain leather-bound black journal, but flipping through it, I found it empty. I was just about to give up when my fingers slipped over another zipper. I unzipped it as well and produced a folded piece of thick, sturdy paper. Unfolding it revealed a map, though of what I wasn't sure. It had no labels or names—topography at its best, I was convinced. There were a few areas that were marked as what I assumed were cities or towns, but no words. My eyes finally landed on a sticker that was stuck to the map, right near the edge of a wooded area. I was going to assume, for the moment, that was where I currently was. I followed a line to the nearest city marking and frowned. Depending on the scale, that would only be a few hours' walk west, but I had no compass.

I flopped back onto the backpack lightly, sighing. In my head, I had already determined this was a dream, and although it was a particularly vivid one, I wasn't too concerned with the concept of time. I rolled over, pushing myself out of the sleeping bag, and pulled out what looked like one of the only two sets of clothes I had brought along with me, getting dressed leisurely.

At the very least, my dream-self had put together an interesting outfit. A baseball shirt with three quarter length sleeves with a hooded vest over that accompanied cargo pants that held perhaps one too many belts, straps, and zippers (or perhaps not enough), plus a thick belt to hold them up, and sturdy tennis shoes, plus a pair of matching fingerless gloves and a folded bandana. I was sure I looked ridiculous- this was no kind of outfit to go hiking in. It matched well, though, in various shades of blue, black, and grey, so I wasn't going to complain.

I was just finishing packing my sleeping bag when I heard a noise from the trees behind me. I registered what sounded like a low, long growl and jumped, freezing. When I heard it a second time, I zipped the backpack up quickly and whirled around. It was times like this that I wished I was armed in some form or fashion, but the backpack I had did not provide anything I needed in that regard. There was a loud crash and a fuzzy brown clawed paw broke its way through a dense patch of trees. I wasn't about to stick around and find out what it was attached to. My glance fell towards the sun—if the sun rose in the east, I was going to take the trail that led away from where it currently was in the sky. I turned and broke off into a run, caring little for stopping to smell the flowers.

I wasn't sure how long I ran. I remember being mildly surprised that I could run as long as I could; I knew that I was out of shape, but I chalked it up to dream magic and just kept going. When I finally stopped, breathing hard despite feeling completely comfortable with the distance I had just traveled on foot, I could tell the forest was less dense. If nothing else, I was hoping that meant I was almost out of it. I turned to look back behind me, to make sure I wasn't being followed.

"Hey." Goddamn, I wasn't paying attention. The voice from behind me made me jump, bite back a squeak of surprise, and whirl around. Thankfully, the owner of the voice looked more or less human. He was taller than me, though, built thin, and had a backpack slung over one shoulder. This man was definitely slightly more dressed for hiking, in what looked like a thicker set of clothing and hiking boots. From behind blonde hair, green eyes sparkled with a slight bit of excitement as he smiled at me, holding up his free hand to look at his watch. "What're you doing out here at this hour? You're missing the festival!"

Oh, god. There was a festival. Well, at least that meant there was other human life, I supposed. I'm sure the look I gave him was still a little more than incredulous.

"Hey, are you feeling okay?" he asked me, tilting his head slightly, his ear-length hair falling to the side some. "You look exhausted."

"It's… I was being chased by…something. It growled at me." I was aware that my explanation sounded ridiculous, but it was really the only one I had.

"Oh, it was probably just an Ursaring." He replied. "They're not harmful, really, just a little bit ill-tempered. It probably thought you had food, and…"

He could have kept talking for an eternity; I had already tuned him out. My head was suddenly swimming. I let him ramble on for a few more sentences before interrupting him.

"An Ursaring?" I asked, sounding like I had absolutely no reason to believe him. "You mean, like, the Pokémon?"

"Of course I do. What else would I mean?" he asked.

Oh, joy.