I tore my thumb from my mouth, taking a piece of nail and some flesh along with it. I'd gone through this many times mentally. I'd explored every option, every given situation. Every possible consequence. Even the ones I was sure I couldn't live with. I'd weighed all the pros and cons. I was absolutely certain that this was the only way. So why did I feel so uneasy? I looked about my lab. My assistants were working diligently as usual, with the silence of the work atmosphere being broken periodically with some whispering here and a bit of coughing there. The gentle clinking of glass beakers harmonized with the workplace symphony and I found myself becoming surer of my decision. I stood up from my chair and beckoned to one of my interns.
"Sosuke". The freckled-faced teenager looked up from his laptop, promptly slammed it shut and hastily made his way over to my desk, almost knocking over a female assistant in the process.
"Sosuke!", she whined. "You're too clumsy!" That was the tag line of my lab. Sosuke was chronically accident-prone and many a glass beaker was destroyed because of this. I chuckled inwardly then addressed him.
"I'm heading to the Pokemon Center so I'll be a bit", I informed him. He nodded.
"Would you like to use the Dodrio or the Pidgeot?" He asked reaching into his pocket to retrieve the pokeballs containing the pokemon. After deliberating for a bit, I decided on the Dodrio. The Pidgeot would be faster, but I'd had a rather heavy breakfast that morning; air sickness wasn't in my to-do list today. I walked out the lab and tossed the pokeball into the air. A long legged bird materialized in the red light, its brown feathers messy and unkempt. Its three heads, each adorned with a long black feathered crest, and perched on long slender necks looked at me intently, waiting for its orders. Dodrios have always fascinated me since I first learned about them. Not only the fact that while two heads slept one would stay alert was intriguing; their expressions really impressed me. Each one was representative of the three basic emotions of humans: Anger, Sadness and Joy. Their offspring continued this physical trait without fail, flawlessly, the same heads would have the same expressions. Joy on the right, sadness on the left and anger in the middle. In all my years of research, I still hadn't figured out this enigma or how to alter it for that matter. I patted the towering bird on its angry head as I mounted it and waved at my intern who was now standing in the entrance doorway of the lab. The dodrio took off at my command, inviting a gust of wind to my face and leaving behind a trail of dust in its wake.
A rapid but bumpy ride took me to my destination, Viridian City. My pokemon trotted up to the Pokemon Center with my guidance and halted in front of it. I dismounted and instructed that it stay put until I came back out to which it responded with shrill, guttural cry. The Pokemon Center's doors opened with a soft whoosh welcoming me inside. I was grateful for the air conditioning; the outdoors in the Kanto region was a furnace around this time of the year. I wiped my forehead with the back of my sleeve and made my way to the counter. A pink haired woman stood behind it, her hair combed into two neat buns at the nape of her neck. Her eyes narrowed with her smile as she greeted me, and as I approached, I noticed she was wearing too much make up. My attention was automatically drawn to her lips which were a bold shade of red that would put any Krabby to shame.
"Good morning, Professor!", she chirped. "Welcome to our Pokemon Center! Would you like me to heal your pokemon back to perfect health?" I placed my hands on the counter, and leaned forward into her a little. She made a sideways glance but didn't retract, her wide eyes trained on mine.
"No," I said firmly. Her false customer-friendly smile that was tattooed onto her face evaporated, a solemn expression replacing it. Her voice became monotone and her demeanor, businesslike.
"Understood, sir. Your appointment will be booked immediately. If successful, you will receive a confirmation email within the next hour." I nodded politely.
"Thank you, my dear." I turned and walked briskly out the door. I came upon the sight of the Dodrio fighting amongst its heads. Normally, I'd be highly amused at this, stopping for a few moments to appreciate the silliness of the whole scenario. But I had too much to think about in the next few days, too many preparations to make, too many things to consider. I scolded it, bopped each of its heads and mounted. With a sharp kick to its side, we took off in the direction of Pallet Town. Yes, I thought. This is the only way.
Red awoke to warm sunlight filtering into his small room. He stared blankly at his blanket which bore a rectangle of light emanating from outside his window. Little specks of white dust danced in the rays of golden light; it was almost as though the light provided its very own platform for them to dance upon. He sighed contentedly, and buried himself into the soft confines of his bed. He was absolutely determined to sleep all day today. He would just relax. No running errands, no chores. He was going to be the best snorlax today. No, he was going to be the best slaking today.
He was going to be very late today.
He jumped out of bed, effectively wrapping the sheets between his legs and tripping over them. Undeterred, he stripped, flinging articles of clothing in multiple directions as he got into the shower. Five minutes later, he dried himself hurriedly and pulled on some clothes. His messy, brown hair, masterfully styled by a night of occasionally tossing in his sleep was successfully hidden (mostly) under his beloved red hat. His father had given it to him when he was two years old. Or so his mother told him. Red had very little memory of his father. He remembered that he had his shade of brown hair but that was about it. His mother's features always darkened at any mention of him. Red once made the mistake of pressing his mother for more information on his elusive parent. Instead of his mother sighing exasperatedly and relenting, her habit when dealing with her sometimes extremely insistent son, she'd thrown the coffee mug she'd been holding onto the floor, yelled at Red to stop asking her about him and sent him to his room. Red had retreated in shock and as he did so, he'd heard his mother crying. That was the last time he'd ever enquired. He'd already chalked it up in his heart – His father wasn't in his life, he would never be and if the mere mention of him upset his mother, then he wasn't someone he worth knowing.
Red made his way downstairs where his mother was making breakfast. Her chestnut colored hair, mid-back length, was held in a neat but slack ponytail at the base of her neck. She turned and greeted him. One would often look at Red's mother and find her quite attractive. She had dark blue eyes that were framed by long dark lashes which made her eyes seem almost half lidded. As a result, she had permanent bedroom eyes that put the sexiest pinup models to shame. Those beautiful eyes were crowned by her impeccable eyebrows; his mother had no need for plucking or waxing much to the mild envy of other women in the town. Though her lips were thin, they were shapely and parted neatly whenever she smiled, revealing two rows of white teeth. Her figure was nothing to sneeze at either. Numerous times when Red accompanied his mother to the store, men would be especially helpful and the hostility from surrounding females was almost palpable. Catcalls and whistles usually heralded his mother's approach. He was too young to understand what they meant back then, ("What are they doing, Mom?" "Just being silly, dear. When you get older, don't ever be like them, alright?") but as he grew, so did his wisdom; he found it both flattering and annoying that his mother was street harassed on occasion.
Red said a rushed "Good morning" and grabbed up one of the sandwiches his mother just made. He stuffed it into his mouth and gulped down some orange juice straight from the box, promptly earning him a scolding about table manners. He hastily apologized, and rambled that he was late and had to go, slamming the front door in his exit. He walked briskly in the direction of Professor Oak's lab reaching his destination in about twenty minutes. As he entered the lab, he looked around. Professor Oak's lab assistants and interns barely paid him any mind; they were used to him hanging out around the lab in his spare time since Professor Oak's grandson was also his friend. Acquaintance. Something. He really didn't know how to describe his relationship with Green simply because Green was extremely fickle in his interactions towards him. Friendly on one day, hostile on the next and in not so rare instances, the two extremes made appearances within the same day. There was never an in between; Green was a walking paradox. If Red was really unfortunate, he'd encounter him when whittling Red's self-esteem was high on that day's agenda. Red was often amazed (and very irritated) at the lengths Green went to make him feel like shit; it was like it was Green's hobby to consistently and constantly point out how superior he was to Red in every way. The sole reason Red put up with the jerk was the fact that, besides Green, there were no other people his age in the small town. Red made his way to the back of the lab to find said jerk standing next to a table with three pokeballs on it. Red began to wonder about the pokeballs when Green decided to get into his routine of being obnoxious.
"What? It's only Red". He made no effort to hide his disappointment and if one squinted, they could see he was even exaggerating it a little. "Gramps isn't here". Red could feel himself seething. He looked him square in the face.
"I noticed. Thanks". Red deadpanned, spun on his heel and left. Stupid Green, he thought bitterly. He'd walked away so swiftly from the lab that when he encountered the tall grass that marked the end of the town, he was startled. He briefly contemplated walking further into it in an effort to clear his head when a frantic male voice pierced through the silence of the air.
"Wait! Don't go!" Red turned around to see Professor Oak bent over with his hands on his knees panting heavily. "Don't go into the bushes, Red" he resumed his warning after catching his breath slightly. "It's dangerous. Come with me." He beckoned Red to follow him and Red obediently did so.
They met a very bored Green sitting on the edge of the table dangling his legs off the edge and swinging them to and fro. Professor Oak frowned and he immediately jumped down from his perch. Red stood next to Green and Professor Oak addressed them both.
"I have a favour to ask of you both," he said. Red's curiosity was piqued. Professor Oak was usually easy-going and it was very rare to have him use such a serious and professional tone. Green, however, seemed oblivious to his grandfather's attitude. The professor turned and headed to a small table behind him. On it laid two red, rectangular devices, with a flashing blue light at the top left hand corner of it. He handed one to Red, paused a bit as if thinking and then reluctantly handed the other to Green. Green cocked an eyebrow at his grandfather's peculiar behavior but said nothing. Red glued his eyes to the red device in his hand, scrutinizing it.
"These are called Pokedex. They are devices that store virtual information on every pokemon its holder encounters and captures. As you know, my profession is based solely on the study of pokemon and by extension, the interaction between humans and pokemon, so it's vital for me to have information on various if not most species. It has always been a lifelong dream of mine to gather data on all existing pokemon. But I can't accomplish that on my own now, I'm too old." Professor Oak's eyes shone a little as he spoke and his voice was an odd mixture of passion and despair. He fixed gaze on Red as he spoke. "That's why I'm recruiting you two to help me with my goal." Red shifted uncomfortably under professor Oak's stare. Although Green was standing right next to him, Red felt as though professor Oak was entrusting the task to him. Professor Oak then walked over to the table containing the pokeballs and gestured to them with his hand.
"Now, within these pokeballs are pokemon you can use to help you with your journey. Make your choice carefully, Red. The pokemon you choose will be yours." Red's heart thumped with excitement. He'd never given thought about leaving the confines of his town; he'd never had the need. Anything he required was provided to him via delivery. He had no relatives abroad, at least none that he knew of. Curiosity about the outside world clouded his mind and the prospect of new opportunities sent a wave of eagerness over him. Green would no longer be his only friend. He'd be interacting and capturing new pokemon. He would finally get to see what was beyond the bushes that framed Pallet Town. Green's annoyed voice snapped him out of his daydream.
"Hey Gramps! What about me?" Green complained, pivoting his head between the elderly man and his neighbor. Professor Oak chuckled.
"Yes, Green. You get to choose one too, obviously." Red walked over to the table and touched the pokeball to the furthest left. He picked it up and examined it.
"Ahh. That's a Charmander, very beautiful creatures. I had one back in the day when I was a hotshot trainer. It's a fire type." Red turned and looked at the professor whose face looked overwhelmed with nostalgia. He looked back at the pokeball.
"Well, Red? Will you take Charmander, the fire type?" Red nodded eagerly. "Then it's settled. Congratulations on your new pokemon, Red!" Professor Oak gave him a friendly pat on the back. Green narrowed his eyes at Red and then turned his attention to the two remaining pokeballs on the table.
"I choose this one, then!" Green exclaimed. Professor Oak looked at his grandson and smiled.
"That's a Squirtle. They are a very durable species, extremely tough. It's a water type." Green looked smug as he turned to look at Red.
"Mine looks tougher than yours," he gloated. Red ignored him. Professor Oak cleared his throat.
"Alright, you two. Off you go. Make sure to maintain contact via emails and video calls." Green nodded, looked at Red and then back to his grandfather.
"You can leave everything to me, Grandpa!" He boasted. As he walked past Red, he placed a hand on his shoulder and his features contorted into mock sympathy.
"I'm sorry to tell you this Red," Green said in a fake apologetic tone, "but you just won't be needed for this task." Red stared blankly ahead of him, successfully summoning all of his willpower not to slug his neighbor in the face and said nothing. Green trotted out the lab, presumably on his way to begin his quest. Professor Oak smiled at Red.
"You should get going too, Red." He urged politely. Red smiled, thanked him and left the lab.
His farewell to his mother was not as difficult as he thought it would be. In fact, she was far more understanding than he anticipated, even encouraging and while he was suspicious, he was also very grateful. He had gone through many mental plans as to how he'd convince his mother to let him go and none were satisfactory. With a kiss on her cheek and promises to keep in touch, Red set off on his journey.