Disclaimer: Pokémon is owned by The Pokémon Company, which in turn is owned by Nintendo, Game Freak, and probably others I forgot. The following fanfiction is me playing around in their sandbox, using characters they envisioned and created, except for the odd character that wasn't. I own nothing of this.

Author's Note: This fanfiction is set in the anime, diverging after AG192 (Home is Where the Start Is!). Anything from the DP series is explicitly non-canon for this fic, though parts of it may well remain inside the canon. You'll see those mentioned or outright described. Additionally, the entire cast is aged up by two (2) years. Trainers start when they're twelve, not ten. As of the start of this chapter, about four and a half years have passed since Ash left Pallet Town with a very reluctant Electric rat, making him 16, and May turned 14 earlier in the year. Lastly, this fic is rated T, mainly to be on the safe side.

Chapter 1: Prelude

Spring had arrived! Professor Maxim Birch of Littleroot loved the spring, both personally and as a researcher. Perhaps it was slightly on the cooler side, compared to other recent springs, but very few Pokémon in the southern Hoenn region actually seemed to care about that. Birds were far more interested in building nests for their coming young, which would be hatching in a few weeks time, and several quadruped Pokémon in the area, like the skittish zigzagoon and the tenacious pooychena, took this time to move around in search of new stomping grounds. It was a fascinating experience to witness, and Birch felt privileged that his work allowed him to observe these events. It even made the tedious grant request writing worth it.

He had been in the wild for a few days now, using his trustworthy SUV to transport him around. He currently was about thirty-five miles out from his laboratory, where his assistant Joshua was working to keep everything, including the Hoenn Pokémon storage, running. The last time that the professor had heard of his assistant was two days back, when a set of imported bouffalant had butted heads with some of the professor's miltank and a trainer's nidoking that happened to be taking a nap nearby. It was a regular and somewhat normal occurrence at any Pokémon laboratory, but the bouffalant had managed to severely injure one of the miltank to the point of specialised medical care being needed, which explained why Joshua had actually called. Despite being an assistant for over three years, the man in his early thirties was still rather uncertain at times.

A vibration in his pocket made Birch lower his binoculars, which he had been using to observe a pitched disagreement between a swellow and a pidgeotto. Speak of the devil. "Birch speaking."

"Good evening Professor," Joshua greeted, unfailingly polite. "You asked me to remind you that you need to be at the laboratory at 10am sharp tomorrow morning to hand out starter Pokémon to two new trainers."

Birch took a moment to look at his watch, and found that it was getting somewhat close to sunset. Funny, he hadn't thought it was that late. "I lost track of time," he admitted, "but I'll be at the lab in about an hour and a half."

"Very well Professor. I'll make sure to stay here until you arrive."

"Nonsense Joshua," Birch said. "Go home. It's a Sunday evening. Spend some time with your girlfriend. She probably hasn't seen you in a week. The laboratory won't blow up in an hour and a half."

"If you insist, sir," Joshua said, sounding as he always did when Birch pressed him to leave the lab after the professor had been absent for a while, which was a strange mix of dejection and relief. "There have been no more accidents of particular note. The log is…"

"Where you always leave it," the Professor interjected, "and unless you hang up and leave in the next ten minutes, I'll be forced to give you a full week off." A quick greeting and a click followed. "Sometimes I wonder why he wants to work in Pokémon research," Birch muttered as he walked back to his SUV mere moments later. "He's far too stressed out."

Two hours later, the Hoenn Pokémon Professor lounged on a chaise longue in the living area of his laboratory and home, a log of accidents on his lap and a mug of coffee in his hand. As he had expected, the only accident that came close to requiring personal attention was the incident with the miltank, and she was due to be released in the morning if the chansey egg extract treatment continued to work its magic. Joshua had also contacted two trainers whose Pokémon had been injured in regular scuffles around the range. Nothing out of the ordinary there either.

For some reason, he had also prepared two sets of start Pokémon for tomorrow. Birch scoffed. That was not needed, at all. Joshua had probably reasoned that they were important starting trainers and that they should have full choice. Or something like that. Birch had a good grasp on how Joshua's mind worked, but a perfect understanding it was not.

Utter nonsense. Birch knew these kids, and they wouldn't pick the same Pokémon. Birch's own nephew was one of them, and he would pick a mudkip to start out with. He'd been going on about the blue quadruped for about three years. Maybe? Birch had lost track. A long time. The other boy was his nephew's best friend, and the son of one of Birch's own best friends: Norman Maple, the Petalburg Gym Leader. Months ago, the Littleroot native had been less certain about what Max wanted, but then he overheard the boy talking about not wanting to have the same Pokémon as his sister. She had taken a torchic, now blaziken, though it had been well over a half a year since that Pokémon had been in the lab.

Two sets? Ridiculous. If anything, he should offer two sets if he didn't know the new trainers, just to make sure they could leave with two mudkip if they wanted to. Why was the limit for two new trainers one set again? Oak probably knew. He'd raise the issue the next time they spoke.

He discarded the log and grabbed a tablet from a nearby table, opening the new trainer template with the ease of habit and setting it up to accept voice to text. "New trainer," he called out, waiting a moment to allow the program to set up, "Daniel Kenai Birch. Date of birth: February sixteenth. Date of departure: March nineteenth."

He checked the data, corrected a typo in his nephew's middle name, and called up the new trainer template again. "New trainer: Max Norman Maple. Date of birth: March fifteenth. Date of departure: March nineteenth." A pause followed as Birch checked the data again. No mistakes were made this time. "Select trainers: Daniel Birch, Max Maple," Birch spoke slowly, and two nearly empty profiles came up on the screen, side by side. "School: Petalburg Primary."

The application filled in the school, causing information to flood onto the screen as data was pulled from the school's system, which in turn was linked to a medical database. In a moment, Birch had access to all of his nephew's and Max's educational scores and medical information. "Save profiles to Pokédexes," Birch ordered after he had finished skimming the data. A progress bar appeared on the screen and two small lights lit up across the room, where the Pokédexes were plugged in to one of the many computers scattered around the laboratory.

The first ten seconds of an old Hoenn folk song announced that the Professor had an incoming call on his computer, and the lack of caller ID made Birch's eyebrows rise. He had expected his brother to call, or perhaps Norman, but neither of those were in a Sinnoh Pokémon Center at the moment, which was where the call originated. When he answered the call, and the video engaged, Birch saw a familiar sixteen-year-old sitting in one of Sinnoh's Pokémon Centers, dressed rather more warmly than Birch had ever needed to dress in the Hoenn region if it didn't involve climbing up to three thousand feet above ground in winter. "Ash! I wasn't expecting you to call. How are you?"

Some small talk ensued, and eventually, a pikachu climbed onto the teen's shoulder, giving a small wave as he saw the face in the videophone. The rodent-like Pokémon was also carrying a small circular package, which he showed, then dropped off-screen into what Birch could only presume to be Ash's hand. "Thanks," Ash said as he scratched the pikachu's head with his left hand. "Professor, it was Max's twelfth birthday yesterday, right?" A nod from Birch confirmed that. "I want to give him a present, but I'm in Sinnoh. Can you to give it to him?"

"Sure," Birch agreed, "but what is it? You know item transportation is very limited, or are you thinking of gifting a Pokémon?" That would be a kingly gift to give. Families might do it, but only the influential or affluent ones did so on top of a laboratory starter; Birch knew Oak had given his grandson both squirtle and eevee for starter Pokémon. He had thought about giving his nephew a second Pokémon himself, but it was something far less common in Hoenn for reasons he didn't understand.

Ash shook his head. "Not a Pokémon, Professor," he said. "I thought about it, but we both know that Max just wants one Pokémon." Max chatting animatedly about a ralts flashed in Birch's mind for a second. "So I'm sending something for that. If I can."

"Of course!" Birch cleared the transport tray out. "Go ahead, send it over." Moments later, the sound of the transport system activating came from first the speakers and then the machine next to Birch. A black ball appeared in the tray, the same size as a regular pokéball, though this was tailored specifically to transporting Pokémon-related items. It used part of the same technology that made even the largest steelix fit into a small container, and the solid black colour set it visually apart from nearly all pokéball designs on the market. "Can I open it?"

"Sure." Ash turned away, and Birch heard vague chatter about the weather.

Birch wasted no time in doing so, aiming the opening mechanism to go towards the empty space on the floor right behind his computer. A flash of light and a turquoise stone appeared on the carpeted floor of Birch's living room. Birch felt his eyebrows go up for the second time in a few minutes. "Is that a Dawn Stone?" Evolutionary stones were rare, and Dawn Stones, along with Shiny and Dusk Stones, were extremely rare in the Home Regions outside of Sinnoh.

Birch wondered if May had gotten such a great gift as well for her birthday, but then he remembered that Ash had sent him – not even his 'own' Professor – a set of pictures of Sinnoh Pokémon in their habitat for Yule. That boy was too generous by half, and May probably received an amazing gift as well.

"It is," Ash said, turning back to the screen. "Yes, Professor, I know it's expensive. I won it in a local tournament, but I don't have any Pokémon who can use it."

"You could sell it," Birch said, "and get money to keep travelling." Dawn Stones would easily fetch enough money for a month's worth of Pokémon food, even in Sinnoh.

"I could," Ash agreed, shrugging. "But friends are more important than money." He turned around again, listening to something only he could hear. "I need to go, Professor. Give Max my best."

"I will." The call ended just as Birch returned the stone to its container. The Pokédexes had finished downloading the data as well, and those, along with the black ball, were taken to the table that held all the items that he would bestow on the boys in the morning. It now featured the two Pokédexes and the item container, as well as an envelope and a newest model Pokénav for his nephew. Birch looked at the collection for a few seconds. Tomorrow would be the most important day in the boys' lives, and he felt proud to be a part of it.

The cry of an angry skarmory knocked the Professor out of his reverie, and moments later, a tremble shook the house slightly as something heavy hit the ground at speed. Birch fingered the two balls clipped to the magnets on his belt, turned around and tore out of the room, intent on making sure his laboratory remained standing.

~~§~~§~~

One more night. One measly more night, and then the two boys lying in a Petalburg City loft could finally leave for their Pokémon journey. One could have left a month before, but he chose not to, instead waiting for his friend to turn twelve as well. The other had already travelled for quite a long time before, joining his sister and some friends on a journey that took him across two of the four Home Regions, to two Grand Festivals, one League Championship, and the entire Kanto Battle Frontier. It had been a let-down, and pretty boring, to have to return to school for six months after travelling for twenty, and he was extremely keen on returning to the Hoenn wilderness.

The exciting day up ahead naturally meant neither boy really wanted to sleep, though they had been made to go upstairs. The adults who had sent them up had probably meant for them to go to bed, but instead, the boys were sitting on one of the two mattresses lying side-by-side on the floor, playing a game of cards. "Do you have any mareep?" one boy, blue-haired and bespectacled, asked.

"Go fish," was the reply of his friend, whose hand only contained remoraid and geodude cards. He was the elder of the two boys, and the owner of the attic room they were sitting in. "So, Max," he said, "do you have any geodude now?"

"Go fish, Danny," Max replied, and when Danny did so, the last remaining geodude card was fished out of the deck, putting him on seven books to Max's four, which was an insurmountable lead. "Well, that's over."

"Finally!" Danny said. "I had three geodudes since forever." He collected all the books on his side and accepted the nineteen cards that Max held out to him. "One last game to see who wins it all?" he asked.

"Nah," the other boy replied, standing up and stretching his arms. "It's ten already? Just twelve hours to go!"

"Ye-aaaaaaaaaaah!" Danny yawned. "Guess some part of me wants go to bed," he added drily.

"You sound like your Dad." Max made sure to stick his tongue out when Danny was looking, which elicited an identical response. "But you're probably right." A yawn punctuated his statement. "See."

Tired as both boys were, neither of them was asleep half an hour later. "Excited for tomorrow?" Danny whispered as Max shifted his weight around for the fifth time in five minutes.

"Duh. Finally going out to meet new Pokémon with my own Pokémon friends." A pause. "And you as well. It's going to be awesome. I just hope…"

"That the ralts is still there?" Danny finished Max's sentence for him. "That'd be way cool. Sucks that we can't buy tickets for the Mossdeep ferry until we're trainers." They had found that out the hard way. No Pokédex identification, no tickets, even if you had the required money, which the boys did.

"Yeah, and it only runs on Mondays too. Hope there's room on board by the time we get to the port."

"Hope we get to the port in time first," Danny corrected. "You know there'll be delays in leaving. There always are."

"Truuuuuuuueeeeee." Max's reply turned into a yawn midway through. "Falling asleep, try seventeen. Let's do this. Night."

"Night." And the room was mostly silent until an alarm clock woke both boys up.

~~§~~§~~

As the boys were playing Go Fish upstairs, their parents were two floors down, enjoying a good night with friends, alcohol, and many memories. "Do you remember Max's ninth birthday party?" Gregory Birch said, glass of red wine in hand. "Max was so certain he would be a better trainer than his sister."

"I remember that," his wife, Elizabeth, said, clutching a glass of expensive cognac. "Of course, his sister was positively skittish around most Pokémon back then. Boys do associate that with weakness." She sipped from her glass. "She did turn out a rather good coordinator. How were her results again?"

"She reached the top eight in Hoenn and the top four in Kanto," Caroline, Max's mother, said. "I think she has four ribbons in Johto now. Norman?" A nod from her husband confirmed Caroline's statement. "She has a month to get her fifth ribbon to compete, and she told me she finished second place in three other contests."

"Just so," Elizabeth said. "Let's hope for our sakes that our boys will have the same acumen as her or that friend she travelled around with. What was his name again? Ash?"

"Yes, his name was Ash," Norman said, "and I think they'll be fine. In fact…" Norman took his wallet from his back pocket. "I bet five thousand Pokédollars that one of the two will get to the round of 64 in their first League Championship." He punctuated his bet by placing a banknote on the table.

Caroline sent a mild look of disapproval at her husband, but Elizabeth took the five thousand Pokédollar note into her hand without hesitation. "I will take that bet, Norman. Learning by osmosis is one thing, but I do believe you overestimate them."

The bet duly accepted, Elizabeth returned the money to Norman and talk returned to memories of the boys growing up. It was later that night, when Norman had stepped outside for a breath of fresh air, that he heard the slow and steady footsteps of his friend coming towards him. "Need some fresh air too, Gregory?"

"Our wives started talking about something I don't want to be in the room for," Gregory replied, "so I came here to ask you something." Norman turned his head. "Why didn't you just bet Max was going to end up deeper in the tournament?"

"I think both of them can be—"

"Oh, shut it Norman," Gregory interrupted the Petalburg Gym Leader. "Don't feed me that; it stinks more than a hostile gloom. Danny will do his best, and I'll be forever proud of him whatever he does, but your son has nearly two years worth of experience on mine. He will have picked up a lot. That is an advantage that you cannot deny."

"And Danny didn't spend every other weekend at your brother's?" Norman countered. "Still, you have a point. It's just..." Norman trailed off, even as he took to pacing. "Look, Gregory, I don't want to get my hopes up too high for him. I know what too high expectations can do to even the best of trainers, and their Pokémon."

"But..."

"But everyone is expecting Max, and Danny too, to do so well. I can hear it in my colleague's voices when they call. They expect to see the new Steven, or the new Lance, dazzling the Leagues, winning one by the time they're 15."

"Could they?"

"I don't make a habit of predicting things that far in the future," Norman shot back, glaring at an unrepentantly grinning Gregory. "Three years is a long time."

"You have so little faith in yourself," Danny's father said, shaking his head sadly. "Justified, perhaps, but it is better to believe in yourself and your abilities. Your life may one day depend on it!" he boomed, striking a dramatic pose. "Or your ego, at least," he calmly added.

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Rubbing it in your face how utterly wrong you were about May? Good groudon no. Far too much fun." Anything else he might have wanted to say was stopped by the sudden appearance of his alakazam next to him. "Ah, they've stopped talking?" he asked, and a nod was given in return. "Well, Norman, time to head back inside. Care to help me brave the perils of our spouses?"

"Oh you. I'm glad your brother took up the Professorship. I'm not sure new trainers could cope," Norman said as he rose, a smile on his face despite it all.

~~§~~§~~§~~§~~

It is a fact of our society that children leave home for a coming of age journey with Pokémon. The Home Regions have long since agreed that children should be given the opportunity to leave at the age of 12, and surveys indicate over 95 % of children do so within two months of their 12th birthday. These numbers are largely unchanged since Sinnoh lowered the legal age to receive a trainer's license over a century ago, after heated debate and the advent of easy boat travel that led many teenagers below the then legal age of 14 to start their journey in Johto.

Government money is set aside to support these starting trainers. Kanto, Johto, and Hoenn all allow for a scholarship lasting 42 months, whilst Sinnoh's scholarships last a minimum of 30 months. All countries allow for the option to extend these scholarships, and common clauses under which these extensions are triggered include proven results in either League or Grand Festival-level tournaments.

From: Trainers in the Home Regions, Chapter 2: Beginning Trainers.