Overlooked
Disclaimer: You know the drill. I obviously don't own Pokemon. One of the first Pokemon pieces I ever wrote, a little tribute to Bulbasaur. What can I say? I have a softspot for the gen I grass type. 3
So, today is the day. I watch as Professor Oak goes about his business in the lab, getting everything ready for the new trainers to come and pick one of us.
I've seen the way he looks at me, that flickering of pity in his eyes. He knows as well as I that because of my type I'm the least likely to be picked, and he notices my morose mood in spite of how happy and festive the Charmander and the Squirtle seem to be feeling, knowing that it'll most likely be a big day for them, where they'll get to embark on the big, wide world at the side of a Trainer. The thought makes me green with envy.
Well. Greener than I already am, at least.
As the Professor places our food bowls, in which the formula in the food is calibrated for our individual species' needs in front of us, he manages a small smile at me. "Hey, chin up Bulbasaur. Maybe today will be your lucky day. Who knows?"
I can only sigh despondently, letting out a sad "Saur" in response as I halfheartedly begin to eat. The last two times, I've been overlooked in favor of my compatriots. Who says it won't be the same this go around? Everyone's favorite is Charmander, and usually their second choice is Squirtle, their last choice being...me.
A boring grass type. Whoop de doo. While fire types are difficult to come by, we grass types can be found practically a dime a dozen. Plus, Charizard is impressive and flashy, and I guess Blastoise can be described as "cool" looking, since he's basically a giant turtle with two blast canons sticking out of his shell.
It also doesn't help that when I was born, I was the runt of my egg clutch. If I hadn't been born in the controlled environment of the lab, I likely wouldn't have survived long in the wild.
Although my mother, a wise, majestic Venusaur...I'll never forget her, and what she told me. Before her retirement, she was a great battler, said to have even won the League once at the side of her Trainer. She regaled us with the stories of her adventures as my siblings and I watched in wonder and awe of her.
Once, when I was feeling down, she extended one of her many vines to me and lightly lifted my chin up to look her in the eye, her gaze full of love and gentleness.
"My son," she began, "though you may be the smallest of my offspring, know this: you, too, can go on to achieve great things someday. You'll be given the opportunity to rise to the challenges of life, and you will see many battles. You will become strong, and your star will shine brightly. Do not worry, my little one. Your day will come. You simply must be patient."
I felt my heart ache. I would miss her, but the time would come for me to leave the nest. As it was, even my brothers and one sister had all been chosen, and were now on journeys of their own.
The question was...when? When would my turn come? I ached to be picked, ached to be chosen, ached to be able to prove myself that I could be strong, that I was a Pokemon that my Trainer could be proud, to call a member of their core team. Hadn't I been patient long enough?
If someone would just give me a chance. That's all I want. Just...one chance. For my Trainer, I would give him or her my all on the battlefield.
Just then, the door to the lab slides open, and two young Trainers enter, both seeming as bright and eager as my companions. Charmander and Squirtle both sit up at attention, and I do my best to put my best foot forward, hoping and praying to Arceus above that this time will finally be different, yet bracing myself for the inevitable disappointment that is sure to come.
The trainers, both young boys, look at the three of us critically. Finally, the first one, a boy with spiky brown hair and brown eyes points at Squirtle, much to his obvious delight.
"I'll have that one!"
That just leaves the other trainer, who has blonde hair and bright blue eyes. I hold my breath, heart pounding, though I know who he'll choose. It's always inevitable, even though I would have the type advantage...
"I'll go with Charmander."
Charmander lets out a series of happy "Char! Char!" cries and dances about, his orange flame waving back and forth in the air.
I can only look down, releasing the breath I've been holding. Of course Charmander gets chosen before I do, I think a trace bitterly. Charizard is the favorite of countless youngsters, after all.
I turn and look away as the Professor gives his usual brief lecture and gives them their Pokedexes and requisite number of balls to start them on their journey, and the two boys leave with their new partners in tow, eager to have their first battle against each other.
I slump down sadly on the table, sprawling my legs out around me. Passed over. Again. No matter how often it happens, the disappointment is no less crushing.
"Better luck next time, eh?" says Professor Oak as he prepares to call me back into my ball. I feel the red aura envelop me and suck me into the comforting darkness inside to sleep.
An unknown amount of time passes before I become aware of voices outside of my Pokeball. How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? Days? We Pokemon lose all sense of time in our insulated capsules.
"I'm afraid you're a bit late," I recognize the muffled voice of Professor Oak. "I've only got one left."
"Which one?" This other speaker, a female voice.
"Bulbasaur," says Oak.
I feel a knife twist in my heart. Better to not have false hope. The girl's sure to be let down that I'm the only one left...
"Oh! Really? That's great! I wanted Bulbasaur anyways! I'm glad no one's claimed it yet!"
I'm stunned, wondering if I've heard her right.
She...this person, she wants me? Specifically?
"Wonderful! Bulbasaur's a great Pokemon, but unfortunately, not as many trainers pick them as their starter. Most seem to prefer Charmander."
"Well, it's their loss," says the girl. I feel my ball being lifted and placed into what I think is another hand.
I wait in anxious anticipation as Oak gives her the supplies she needs. Though I know it won't be long until I finally see my Trainer's face, the wait feels eternal.
I sense that I'm being carried...where? Where is she taking me? I want out. I feel her stop.
My ball opens, and I materialize in a flash of white light, and immediately the sun nearly blinds me. I blink and shake my head, trying to get my bearings. I feel dirt beneath me and I smell the scent of spring grass, and I see blue sky above me.
As I look around, it takes me a moment to realize I'm outside the lab.
"Hey there, little guy." A voice. I turn towards the speaker and look up to see a young girl with kind dark green eyes and matching green hair. She crouches down on my level, balancing on the balls of her feet and extends a petite hand out to me in friendship, smiling warmly.
"It looks like you and I are gonna be traveling partners. What do you say?"
I gaze at her in wonder, and then feel myself grin from ear to ear. "Bulbasaur! Saur! Saur!" I respond enthusiastically as I launch myself into her arms and start licking her cheek like a puppy.
She giggles and then holds me away from her, holding me under my arm pits.
She then gets up, brushing the dirt off of herself. She takes my ball and seems like she's going to call me back into it, but seems to think better of it. "Say...why don't we walk together for awhile? You've been cooped up in that lab for too long, and since you're a grass type, you could use the fresh air and sunshine."
I nod in assent, and together we make our way towards Pallet Town's exit.
