Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the Pokémon franchise. If I did, I would fire whoever designed the key ring of disgrace.
Rating: T for language and violence
Dedication: To my precious Squirtle, who is constantly overlooked by the charmander evolutionary line.
"I think it is unnatural to think that there such a thing as a blue-sky, white-clouded happy childhood for anybody. Childhood is a very, very tricky business of surviving it. Because if one thing goes wrong or anything goes wrong, and usually something goes wrong, then you are compromised as a human being. You're going to trip over that for a good part of your life." —Maurice Sendak
Even as an innocent, doe-eyed child, I knew my mom was an utter waste of space. But once, and only once, when Professor Oak's grandson harassed me because of my name, she came through for me. When I stormed in, demanding why she would ever, even possibly ever, consider naming a child Leaf, she sprung to life. Two coats and four gloves later, she shoved a furious mini-me into the biting cold, intent on demonstrating her reasoning for such a nonsensical name.
Well, to make a long story short, our little escapade was to the Oaks' gargantuan oak tree. (And yes, they would showcase a tree baring their prestigious surname in their front lawn. That's how high class society people like them roll). The tree was a hulking skeleton. I vaguely remembered chasing Green Oak under its leafy foliage just a few months before. But at that moment, I just knew how solemn and barren that tree was without its viridian cover. And then I realized, without my mother even saying it, the reason for my namesake. For in a few months' time, this naked tree would be fully-clothed, beautiful again. All because of the leaves.
My mother expected, and still expects, I imagine, me to bring beauty to barren things. But even my eight-year-old self, standing in the presence of such a powerful metaphor, knew it wasn't possible. For how can something barren cover up something barren? That's the problem: it can't.
Chapter One: New Game
Leaf Wynn has a motto, a mantra really: each day yields to a new disaster. But today, if she plays her cards right, could work in her favor. Yesterday, while her mother was in the back room, Professor Oak paid a surprise visit to their humble abode. Playing the perfect hostess, Leaf offered him a seat and immediately began brewing tea. (He preferred his sugarless, a sentiment she shared). They bounced around pleasantries like "How's your mother" and Leaf replying, "Well, she remembered to eat today", before Oak arrived at his point. Tomorrow, today now, she was to drop by his lab. And if Leaf's assumptions are correct, and she imagines they are, she would be leaving Pallet Town for a long, long time.
Opening up a drawer, Leaf fishes around until she finds it. She blows the dust off the potion, marveling at how she's kept it after all these years, just in case. Once upon a time, Green and she were the best of friends. The potion was a gift from him, a stolen treasure from his grandfather's lab, a "hey, he won't miss it anyway". She stuffs the medicine in her messenger, along with a change of clothes. If today went right, she would be leaving on a journey. It's crucial to be prepared.
"Mother."
Leaf steps in front of the television, as it's the only way to steal her mother's attention, "I just wanted to let you know that I may be leaving town, and I'd like your consent to do so."
This is the last real obstacle, if Leaf can convince her mother to see the light, she'd be home free. Half of Leaf has decided to leave regardless of her mother's consent, but for the sake of formality…
"…Right. All girls dream of traveling. It said so on TV. You can go."
Leaf sputters incoherently in front of the raven-haired woman. Leaf had wanted, crossed her fingers for a yes, but not like this. Never like this. She was supposed to beg, convince her mother that yes, she was old enough. Yes, mother, she'll be safe. Yes, mother, she's responsible enough. Mothers are supposed to actually care about the wellbeing of their children… not, not this.
Leaf spins around to the TV, only to see a pig-haired redhead and her lillipup skip down a yellow brick road.
"Please, please, don't tell me you gathered that philosophy from the fucking Wizard of Oz, considering the whole point of the movie is for the girl to return home," her voice slides into a falsetto, "There's no place like home. There's no place like home."
Leaf's mother blinks, life flooding into her eyes, "You mean, you aren't satisfied that I'm letting you go? Is that not what you wanted?"
Leaf hoists her yellow messenger bag higher up on her shoulder and replies, "No, don't think for a second that I don't want to leave. Because I do. But most mothers would hesitate before letting their child go venturing into the great unknown."
Her mother waves her off, "I've heard of kids leaving home at age ten, you're sixteen."
Leaf heads towards the door, twists the knob, and pauses at the threshold only to say, "And you're just a selfish bitch who wants one less mouth to feed."
Then she slams the door behind her.
Leaf can count on one hand how many times she's been to the lab, and frankly, she's moderately uncomfortable. There are an infinite amount books and numerous blinking machines that make her head spin. But Leaf's not uncomfortable enough not to confront Green Oak, who is not the Oak she had anticipated meeting. He yawns when she marches up to him, as if to say, "It's only Leaf." She doesn't have the time to play mind games with him. She has a professor to track down.
"Sorry, Leaf," he drawls, not looking sorry at all, "Gramps isn't here right now."
"Obviously. Tell me where he is."
The bastard tilts his head, a smirk creeping up on his face, "You just missed him. He's out doing field work on Route One."
Leaf takes a step back, then another. If the professor is out doing field work, he has clearly forgotten about their meeting today. Meaning their meeting wasn't as important as she suspected it was. Meaning, she wasn't getting a pokémon after all. Leaf could cry, or scream, either one, but she can't show her disappointment in front of Green, so she makes a break for it.
"Ah, Leafy," Green calls out to her retreating back, "if you really need to talk to him so badly, why don't you just go find him?"
Leaf doesn't reply as she weaves pass unidentifiable machines and book shelves, but her mind is made up. She'd just have to interrupt the Professor's field work, because she can't wait any longer to leave this town.
When he hears the door slam, Green's smirk widens into a meowth-esque grin. He continues to grin, even as an aide approaches him.
"Green, I thought the Professor was just running home to grab a file."
"Oh, he is. I just couldn't pass up an opportunity for the Golden Leaf to get chewed out by my gramps."
Leaf knows that wild pokémon lie outside of Pallet Town's gates. She's not suicidal, so she's never stepped a foot onto Route One. But right now, at this moment, she's throwing all caution to the wind, because she's hell-bent on knocking some sense into the forgetful Professor. Today, if only today, the wild pokémon will leave her alone if they have any sense. She's fixing to take her first step into the tall grass when a frantic shouting stops her in her tracks.
"Hey! Wait! Don't take another step!"
And lo and behold, Professor Oak is running towards her from the direction of town, lab coat flapping in the breeze. When he reaches her, he bends over wheezing, trying to catch his breath. And Leaf is reminded of his old age.
"Never," he rasps, "ever… step foot into that grass without a pokémon. It's unsafe!"
He straightens up and turns his sharp gaze on her. He appears angry, but Leaf can see fear lurking in the depths of his charcoal eyes. She traces a worn sneaker onto the dirt, focuses on it for a while, before she deems herself ready to look him in the eyes. They're smoldering coal, and Leaf's respect for the man just went up tenfold.
"Listen," she gulps, "I wasn't thinking rationally, Professor. I was upset when Green told him you skipped our meeting for fieldwork. I went to find you."
The Professor's eyebrows furrow, "But I wasn't even doing field work—"
"Obviously," Leaf chimes in, before wincing slightly for interrupting him.
Then it dawns on them that Leaf was set up. And Leaf, who never takes anyone on their word, especially Green Oak, fell for it. Leaf tips her hat downward, shielding her embarrassed gaze from the Professor. She actually let the idiot get the best of her. Finally, before the silence stretches for too long, the Professor turns and starts his trek back towards Pallet Town.
He makes it a few feet before he calls back to her, "Are you coming or not?"
A rare smile blisters onto Leaf's face before she jogs to catch up to him, "So, you forgive me?"
The Professor takes in the nature, the swaying flowers, mulling over his words, "To be quite frank, Leaf, as impulsive as your little stunt was, it hasn't changed my opinion of you."
When Leaf opens her mouth to interject, he chuckles good-naturedly, "In fact, I've been observing you for quite some time now. I need someone young to help me with an enormous favor. It was supposed to be my grandson, but time has proved to me that he'll never mature enough to face the real world. And of course, the other boy, I will not even consider."
Leaf replies, mostly to herself, "And that leaves me…"
The old man nods at her before lifting his gaze to the shadows, the outlines of Pallet civilization. Leaf squints at the sun's position, figuring it must be noon by now. The Green stunt had wasted some valuable minutes of her precious time. She's pissed of course, but has to show some decent control in front this esteemed presence. He rambles on amiably, not even checking to see if she's still following. Professor Oak may be a genius, but he hasn't skipped out on the quirks of old age.
"And normally I would never consider a young lady to aid me in my work, but…"
Leaf flares her nose up at the blatant sexism, but doesn't retort because she's this close to getting a pokémon, she can feel it. And all is going relatively well until they arrive back at the lab, where a spiky-haired awaits for them.
"So, you have just gone and betrayed me for a sap like her, huh, Gramps. Abandoned your own flesh and blood. How heartless, how—"
Professor Oak holds one hand out, and he's the imposing figure at Route One once again. Even Green withers under his gaze…
"Well, congratulations, Green. After today's stunt, I've just reevaluated your situation. Before, I wouldn't give you a pokémon because of your immaturity. Today, I'm giving you a pokémon for the same reason, to serve as a lesson. I pray tell that with it, you can finally mature, because Mew knows I don't know what else to do with you."
Green is on the verge of a cocky self-celebration, but a glare from his grandfather stops him in his tracks.
"Leaf," the Professor turns to address her, "On the table to my right are three pokéballs. I used to be quite the trainer in my days, but these are the only three I've kept. Go ahead and choose one."
Somehow, someway, Leaf manages to get one foot in front of another, until she stand with three options bared before her.
"But Gramps! What about me?" Green whines and fidgets.
"Quiet, Green. You can pick after Green," and Leaf is still not used to the venom tracing the elderly man's voice.
Leaf bites her lip, unsure of what to pick… what are in these pokéballs anyway? The Professor seems to pick up on her indecision though and launches into an explanation of what each one contains. On the far right is a fire-breather that would grow quite powerful with time and patience (which was an instant no). Patience is over-rated anyway. In the middle is a water type, which the professor only remarked was worth raising. And on the left is a grass pokémon, a species notorious for being easy to raise. Green, predictably, is all over easy street, and snatches the bulbasaur before Leaf can even make a final decision.
"I swear to Mew, Green, you can't even be a gentleman long enough for me to pick a pokémon."
Let's be honest, if Leaf wasn't in the presence of lab coats, clipboards, and over all professionalism, she would knock the shit out of the bastard.
"Leaf, if you want the bulbasaur, I'm sure Green would be delighted to give it over to you."
Green looks over at the Professor like he has two heads, "Why the hell would I do that?"
Actually, Leaf may not have to kick sorry boy's ass after all. The professor looks like he just may take care of business himself. Luckily, or unluckily, he won't have to, it wasn't the bulbasaur she wanted in the end.
"It's cool, Professor, uh, sir. I think I would have chosen the squirtle in the first place."
Relief washes over his features, "Great. Now, that that's been settled, I need for you to head to Viridian City and pick up a package for me. That's all I need of you right now."
And as an afterthought he added, "Oh and Green, you're dismissed. Leaf, please enjoy your journey."
"Hey, gramps, what about me?"
"Leaf," the Professor grins, "Please enjoy your journey."
Leaf doesn't need to be told a third time before she's heading for the door, giddy like a kid on Christmas morning, not that she's ever really experienced Christmas, per say. She even makes it out the door before Green charges after her.
"You. Me. Pokémon battle. Now."
Oh, he shouldn't have. A feral grin creeps up on the corner of Leaf's lips. She couldn't imagine, conjure up a better way to release her pent-up emotions. Elation. Irritation. Both.
"You're on, Oak. Let's get it on. I have things to do."
He clicks the button on his pokéball, before tossing it up in the air. Leaf copies him, excited, but realizing that she has no earthly idea what she's gotten herself into and Green surely does because his grandfather is an expert on all things Pokémon for Arceus's sake.
Two twin beams materialize into two opposite pokémon. The bulbasaur is quadrepal, bespeckled, with a (surprise, surprise) hulking bulb on its back. Her squirtle stands proudly on two legs, with a sturdy shell and an adorable, curly tail.
Wanting to take the initiative, Leaf points out her opponent, prodding her squirtle to "sic him". Squirtle (Leaf decides that's what she'll call him, she's never been good with the whole nickname thing anyway) tackles Green's bulbasaur, who thrashes under Squirtle's hold.
"Bulbasaur," Green commands, "use your worse growl!"
He, it, whatever, does. And poor Squirtle is knocked back by the sudden ferocity. The green twerp squats in triumph, his (it just oozes testosterone, okay, just like Squirtle) crimson eyes daring Squirtle to come closer. And when he finally does, after a little coaxing (more like expletives) from Leaf, his tackle isn't nearly as effective. Leaf realizes morbidly that Squirtle's shaken up by the bulbasaur's growl.
"Don't let that bastard scare you! Go all out Squirtle!" she bellows.
Green encourages his bulbasaur to take the offensive, and the two begin rolling around, trying to gain some kind of leverage. As much as Leaf's read about pokémon, one can't articulate the brutal, beautiful instinct displayed for her sheltered eyes. Lesson of the day, she surmises, never put your faith in paperback literature. But as the two pokémon clawed at each other, Leaf felt a nagging question claw itself up from the depths of her mind and take root. Her pokémon is responding to battle on his own accord, but isn't it the trainer's job to guide one's pokémon in battle? Green certainly felt like his bulbasaur could hold its own, as he crossed his arms in a casual hold. Call it intuition or natural instinct as a trainer that ran through her veins, but she knew that if she could convey to her squirtle some kind of strategy, they'd gain the upper hand.
What kind of strategy though? She wasn't sure what her squirtle was capable of. Could he summon water? How fast were his reflexes? Could he retract into his shell?
Wait… could he retract himself into his shell? That would protect his fleshy material from the bulbasaur's barrage of attacks. But how could he attack from inside his shell? There was only one way and Leaf would bet her pokédollars on it.
"Squirtle, withdraw yourself and spin!"
A shit-eating smile broke out on the girl's face when Squirtle obeyed, knocking Green's bulbasaur off-kilter in a whirling blur. If it wasn't totally out of character, Leaf would squeal or jump or something. She's never felt such addicting adrenaline. Pokémon battling, she decided, would have to become a must on her journey.
"Now, Squirtle! Knock him out before he gains his bearings!"
"What? No— Bulbasaur! Stop it! Dodge!"
Sorry, Green, Leaf thought, but it's far too late. Squirtle springs out of its shell, ramming the unsuspecting bulbasaur into the ground. Leaf and Green hold their breath, waiting to see if the bulbasaur could pick himself back up. He couldn't.
A red light sucks the stagnant pokémon back into his pokéball. Green stares at it in disdain, rubbing the red and white ball in between his fingertips. Leaf snorts, it was as if she stumbled upon an intimate moment. Green's never put so much emotion up on display. Everything about him is a faҫade. She approaches him, and isn't until she gets close that she can make out his incoherent mumblings.
"Dammit… unbelievable… I must have picked the wrong pokémon. Bulbasaur clearly has its weak points… in his defense especially…"
"Or," Leaf genially interrupts, "it just may be your incompetency in general."
Okay. Not so genially.
Green steps back, recoiling slightly, as if he just notices her presence.
"What are you still standing here for? Whatever. I'm outta here. Smell ya later."
He spins, clear on making a grand escape. Leaf won't let him.
"Wait."
He stops, looks over his shoulder, feigns nonchalance.
"What are you planning on doing now, Green?"
He snaps his head back around and continues walking. Leaf doubts he'll answer. But his does, never ceasing his 'amiable' getaway.
"Isn't it obvious?" Green sneers, "I'm going to make my pokémon stronger. Then, I'll have you crying uncle at my feet."
She doesn't know how to reply to that, nor does she intend to. Just when she can make Green's silhouette on the horizon, Leaf marches off in the opposite direction. She has one more stop to make before she hits the road for good.
Leaf isn't a morally upright person by any stretch of the imagination, but somewhere, somewhere, deep inside her shriveled up heart, her conscience grabs her and pulls. Guilt. Pity. That's what drives her up a dirt path, directing her farther and farther away form Route One. The shadows are reaching across the landscape for each other; it's late afternoon by now.
There's a third kid in Pallet Town. They're actually quite the trio: the cynic, the asshole, and the oddball. And the word 'oddball' was a vast understatement. He's been that way from birth. Odd, reclusive, fascinated by things Leaf couldn't and can't understand. Green and Leaf are insufferable by circumstances, by the way they were raised. But his family was by all means… perfect. His parents are loving, bubbly even. He lives in a manor on a hill, a sight for any tourist's wandering eyes. But that doesn't change that Red is who he is.
And Leaf is technically… for all intents and purposes, his friend. It hasn't always been this way; she never acknowledged his presence until she realized that Green loathes Red and that she loathes Green. It was low of her, callous of her, but not beneath her to befriend Red to piss Green off. And it worked all to well. Green would sputter how he couldn't believe she ditched him for the sociopath. (Where he learned to use the word sociopath at age nine, don't ask, she doesn't know. He probably perused his grandfather's stash of dictionaries to enhance his vocabulary and to paint himself as an even bigger jackass know-it-all.)
When Leaf approaches the manor house, she makes a split decision to venture to the back of the house instead. Red's parents could talk, and she doesn't have the time to pretend she's interested in Red's first steps or his first solid food. As she walks, she spots the perfect throwing stone (the smooth, light kind that won't shatter windows she can't pay to fix) and begins to toss it up and down in her hand.
—smack—
The stone ricochets off the second story window and lands at her feet. She waits a few seconds and when she doesn't receive an answer, pitches it again.
—smack—
Leaf's skeptical to believe that he's actually, you know, out on the town and wonders why he won't come to the window, when, suddenly, the window flies open and a pair of red eyes blink at her.
"Hey," Leaf calls out around her hands, "we need to talk. Now."
Red blinks, closes the window, and walks away.
They're situated underneath the cherry tree in Red's backyard. Leaf is mulling over her words, trying to find the best way to break it to him. Red's gaze is off in the distance, where a flock of pidgeys meager. A small smiles graces his pale features. He brushes a lock of shaggy black hair out of his eyes absentmindedly, and Leaf painfully realizes that he's handsome. A handsome enigma. She's going to miss him just a little bit. They have an understanding she'll never possess with anyone else. Who else would just sit with her like this, reveling in the comfortable silence? She hates that she has to break it.
"So, Red. Sometimes it's easier to show things than to try to put them into words, so I'll show you."
She fishes out her squirtle's pokéball out of her yellow messenger. Red's eyes widen in understanding. He knows exactly what it is. Pokémon are his passion. His shelves are chocked full of Pokémon books, every single one read at least once or twice. And she's sure he knows that the pokémon that flashes in front of him is a squirtle, so Leaf doesn't waste her breath explaining.
"His name is Squirtle. Um, Professor Oak gave him to me. Red, I'm going on an adventure."
Red stares at her in disbelief, so she elaborates, "I'm leaving town. Forever."
He just keeps staring. Leaf never expected him to reply per say, but this is a little unnerving. Suddenly, he reaches out and strokes Squrtle's shell, his brow furrowed in deep thought. Leaf continues her one-sided conversation.
"I think Green is leaving too, so that should be a relief for you, ya know?" No reply. Duh. "So, uh, I just came by to let you know, out of respect for our friendship…"
She almost said she was sorry, but she isn't, has never been sorry for anything. Leaf stands up, brushing the dirt off her pleated skirt, and returns Squirtle. Red's hand is still reaches out but now clenched in a fist, having nothing to stroke but the air.
"So I guess this is goodbye. It's been real."
Red stands and meets her viridian green eyes with his crimson ones. Following a sudden impulse, Leaf reaches out and hugs him. He stiffens, not returning her hug. She awkwardly pats him on the back.
"You know, you're probably the best friend I've ever had. Thank you for everything, really."
Leaf clamps her mouth shut. Did those words really just tumble out of her mouth? But they must be true, they have to be. She gives him one last squeeze before she turns her back on him and saunters away.
She only looks back once, and when she does, Red is long gone.
The glass shatters and shimmers all the way down. It's a new moon, the lab's lights are all off, and Red waits for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He swings his legs over the window frame, traces of glass slashing at his jeans, but at this point, he doesn't really care. He plops down in a crouch, stumbling only once.
There must be a pokémon for him somewhere in here.
He begins yanking open filing cabinets, only finding papers and vanilla folders. He takes a dizzying step backward, hands pressed against his temples. His mind is churning, calculating, where, where, where… Red spins, taking in the entire dark room. Where?
When suddenly, a gleaming sphere winks at him from a display table across the room. Red could chuckle, really. He always overthinks. That's why objects always appear to be hidden in plain sight.
He grabs the pokéball, genuinely smiling. He loves pokémon. Always has. He has always thought them to be superior to humans. They are noble. They are kind, the only beings truly capable of unconditional love. And best of all, pokémon don't tell lies like his parents. This creature would be his best friend.
He cringes, stumbling backwards once again. No, that wasn't right. Leaf is his best friend, the only person he could ever like. And she left him without a second glance. She left him with his parents who clown-like grins never reach their eyes, who lie and lie everything they kiss his forehead and tell him that they love him.
They don't love him. They don't even accept him. But Leaf does.
So that's why he packed his bag and waited until dark and then broke into the professor's lab. He respects the professor, but he would never allow Red to have his own pokémon. And if he did, his parents would never let him leave on an adventure. It's all their fault he has to steal and leave town, run away. He has no other choice.
He has to find Leaf, his best friend. This little pokémon would help him find her. And maybe, maybe, once he found her, they could travel together. He'd love that.
Sharp whispers break his reverie, voices at the door. Only then does Red hear the piercing wail of alarms. He had been too preoccupied before. He needs to make his getaway, fast. He climbs back out the window he came through and lands with grace he never possessed before. And with the confidence of a liepard, he sprints alongside the buildings of Pallet town, a darker shadow in the grand shadow called night.
A/N: Well it's the start of a new journey. I hope I didn't play Red off as too much of a creep, because I have big plans for him, and I DON'T want any of you to write him off yet. Of course, I have big plans for Leaf and Green too, you know. Oh, and before I forget, I don't capitalize ANY pokémon's names unless it is A. a proper noun or B. a legendary, such as Arceus or Mew. Please keep that in mind when reading!