An Unlikely Beginning

Author's Note: Well, I'm new here, and I'd really like my readers to know some facts. First, I don't read the Pokémon Comic Things, nor watch the cartoons. Therefore, the characters in this little tale are based solely on the game, and I've taken a great deal of artistic license with their personalities, (specifically that of the main character), appearance, and age. With this in consideration, I'd encourage you all to be accepting of our new and unusual hero: Touko.

Touko's eyes shown with unidentifiable emotion. This was the day- the start of her "journey". She gingerly pushed herself into a sitting position on her bed, caring little for the frizzed mass of brown hair lurching from yesterday's ponytail.

She would have to choose.

A fire type? … Her eyes, crystal blue, lost focus as she retreated into her thoughts. She could almost see the brilliant Emboar snorting impressive flames by her side. People were cheering. Stage lights focused on her massive companion. An older man, sporting a flashy suit, approached – the current Champion. The battle was about to begin. She felt no anxiousness. She felt nothing. It was as if this emotionally taxing event were irrelevant to her, as if—

Zzzt.

Touko blinked herself from the daydream. Her television set had just turned on. Momentarily puzzled, she noticed the remote hiding snuggly under her calf. She reached to turn off the interrupting noise, but paused when her eyes recognized the creature on the screen.

A Dewott, complete with a slippery slate-blue coat, stood by the speaker.

"Today we will be examining one of the favorite Pokémon in Unova, Dewott. As you can see, with it's cute appearance and razor sharp reflexes, this one is sure to find favor with the serious trainer, or the civilian simply looking for an adorable companion." She stopped listening, and stared intently at the curious creature, clearly enjoying his time in the spotlight. She imagined, after a hard day's work, settling down with the cuddly thing and wrapping her arms around it as she slept – happy as a young girl with a new friend. Though she felt a sense of longing for this companionship, her pleasant imaginings didn't alter her zoned-out expression. She didn't want it that much.

The last choice would be a Snivy. Touko crinkled her nose at the phonetics of the name. Sniveee- eeee. It sounded unappealing. It wouldn't be a match for the Emboar. She recalled a picture of the little thing in Juniper's lab once. It was tolerably attractive, though nothing like the beloved Oshawott – the favorite of most young female trainers. She felt no emotion towards it either way.

- "…learns many powerful water moves very early on. And because, as all trainers know, surfing with a Pokémon without serious training experience is incredibly reckless, this Pokémon is a great choice for the beginners who shouldn't get their feet wet quite yet. Moves like Aqua Ring…"

"Really?"

Touko's eyes snapped to her bedroom door. Cheren, in all his magnificent splendor, turned his narrowed, oceanic eyes towards her.

"Those glasses make you look gay."

Cheren's face expressed no offence. Insulting was common greeting between the two.

"I would be gay, if the last girl on earth even moderately resembled the swamp-thing you look like right now." His voice always had a certain crisp, finite edge to it.

Touko, much like Cheren, responded as if he had simply said, "Your hair is a bit messy." She shrugged.

"I just don't have the time to dedicate to each individual hair follicle that you have. How much hair gel do you use every morning to get that little…." She paused, gesturing to Cheren's signature hair style, "horn thing to stand up?"

Cheren smiled slightly. "Enough." He looked at her critically, and then glanced to the television behind him. "I see you couldn't be bothered to get ready for our big day. But I do understand the appeal of PokéMonday reruns from seven years ago. The way they can speak of completely obvious facts for hours on end like it's a new discovery truly is impressive."

Touko stretched, curling her toes, exposed by the haphazard blanket. She swiftly moved from her bed to her closet, choosing some clothes. Cheren watched in scrutinizing silence.

"Where's Bianca?"

"She is discussing matters with her father."

"Ah."

"Touko, please, for my pride's sake, tell me I won't be starting my dignified journey to greatness with a whore."

Touko looked over her shoulder, small smile in place. "Don't have a hissy fit over my outfit. Your pants are too tight to put on a 5 year old." With this she waved her provocatively short shorts in front of him and searched for a top.

"But at least they're pants. You'll be catching rapists if you head out in that." He pushed her aside as he looked through her clothing. He handed her a pair of jeans. "Change. We are not making a good impression right now."

"I doubt it'll improve much if they catch me stripping in front of you. "

Cheren's glance was not of amusement. "I'll be outside."

He shut the door behind him, leaving Touko with no more time for witty remarks. She changed, throwing her oversized nightshirt at her ruffled bed, slipping on a white tank top and her "Cheren-approved" jeans. Her hand went briefly to her tangled hair. She contemplated fixing it, but decided against it. She didn't have the time. And she didn't care enough.

She walked out of her bedroom, completely customized to the critical overlook Cheren gave her. Apparently he approved, for he moved downstairs without another word. It was her cue to follow.

"Hey, Touko," her smiling mother greeted her. "It's already eleven – but better late than never, right?"

Touko's face remained stoic. Her mother was a successful trainer. She had only given it up when she became pregnant. Her fantastic stories were something of a fantasy for Touko as a girl, but she felt little emotion towards them now. She mused, for a moment, that her mother was eager to relive her trainer days through her only child. She had pushed Touko to begin her journey eight years ago, at the customary age of 10. Touko didn't want to – she claimed she was scared to leave home. Her mom could deal with that, of course. She figured it only meant her baby girl would only be more prepared when she started out. No beginner mistakes.

The years had passed. Touko's evident disinterest in Pokémon battling grew substantially. She could find no reason to really care about the outcome of the fight. It's not like they were her Pokémon. Of course, Touko's mom intended to remedy this too. She tried to force dozens of Pokémon on her daughter since her father's passing – almost begging her to choose one to love. Touko's consistent, unwavering response to this was that she wanted to find her own friend. Her companion would make itself clear later, she imagined.

And, quite frankly, receiving a Pokémon from Professor Juniper was certainly not her idea of meeting the right one. The thought had been painfully churning around for a while now, though she was reluctant to express it.

"Sorry I'm late!"

Bianca, her ditzy childhood friend, stumbled through the front door, face flushed. Though she appreciated the girl's genuineness in everything she said, Touko thought her naivety was a bit irritating. Her personality aligned more closely with Cheren, who also regarded Bianca with a cool glance.

"We expected you would have conflicts with your father." Cheren made no eye contact when he said this, taking more interest in Touko's mother's choice of drapes.

"Yes, you know Daddy," Touko flinched at the childish term of endearment. It bothered her. "He takes a long time to warm up to new ideas." As she said this, Bianca fixed her tailored green hat over her butter-blonde hair. She was wearing something a ridiculous mother might choose for her infant daughter, Touko observed wryly. It reflected what she was inside- a sheltered, ridiculous doll.

"We should go to Juniper's." Cheren was trying to conceal the ounce of impatient excitement coming on in his voice. His primary goal was to maintain absolute composure. Touko noticed it, but decided to keep her witty quips to herself.

"Not necessary!" The trio turned around to face Touko's mother, revealing a shiny yellow case. "I have the three PoKémon right here." She smiled proudly at the three. "I know you all didn't start out your journey at the … well, earlier age most do. But I think that's a good thing. You will make much more wise decisions than the silly children running around out there."

"Thank you." Cheren answered straight-faced.

"AHH! I'm so super excited!"

Touko watched silently as her two friends approached the case. Cheren was too focused to notice her lagging behind, but Bianca turned around instantly.

"Touko! You should choose first!"

Cheren smirked. "Yes. I'll choose the one that has an advantage over yours."

Touko's eyes smiled at Cheren. "No, no, guys – you first. I don't care which one I get." She knew the comment would bite at her mother, who was hoping, praying even, that her daughter would have an excited, strong preference to accompany a newfound resolve to be a great Pokémon…anything. Trainer, breeder, scientist. She didn't care.

But Touko held back. This whole scene did not fit her fantasy encounter with her perfect companion. Her eyes lost focus on her eager friends, as she quickly brought up some of her points on a mental checklist she had been editing for years. Firstly, no one would be there. It would just be her and the creature. Secondly, she wouldn't catch it. It would never know confinement in a PoKéball. It wouldn't be a young PoKémon, she mused, but an older one –one she felt could protect and understand her, not vice versa. She had no preference on its species, aside for a slight desire for it to be something she imagined reflected her on the inside, as a kind of way to express, nonverbally, to everyone what kind of person she was…. No, this wasn't right at all.

"Wellll,"Bianca was now hungrily eyeing the case. "If it's all the same to you guys, I would really, really love to have Oshawott." There were the starts of tears in her eyes from the happiness- "I just think it's the cutest little thing I've ever seen!"

"Fine with me." Cheren concentrated on the Tepig's PoKéball.

"Yup." Touko chimed.

"YES! Oh my God this is the best day of my LIFE!" Bianca grabbed for the Pokéball quicker than a Seviper might a young Zangoose. She threw the ball at the floor, watched it bounce, and, as predicted, turned to Cheren, confused.

"You have to press the button."

"Oh!"- She eagerly tried again and a small green creature emerged from the beam. Bianca blinked at its leafy tail and irritated autumn eyes. It held a certain haughtiness already.

"Umm…" Bianca looked up at Touko "I picked the wrong ball."

Touko didn't grant that statement a response.

"Here, sweetie," Touko's smiling mother handed her the Pokéball under the water symbol.

"Thank you!" Recovered from her consecutive embarrassments, Bianca resumed her passionate joy once more. She held the ball curiously, examining the red sheen with her bulging blue eyes.

"Touko?" Cheren asked, indicating her to choose next.

"No Cheren, I insist."

Pausing to briefly file her reluctance for later reference, Cheren turned to the case and took the remaining Pokéball, that of the Tepig. He revealed a rare smile as he rolled his thumb against the surface. This really was his dream.

"Well, Touko," her mother began, trying to bring out some ounce of excitement in the young woman. "I suppose this little Snivy is yours then." She walked around the table and carefully picked up the little grass snake PoKémon and rocked it in her arms. "I'm sure you two will get along wonderfully."

Touko smiled, exteriorly, when she seemed to pick up on the Snivy's aggravation at being coddled by her mother. She bit back her roaring conscience to sedate her mother, and replied in monotone with, "We will."