All children in Pallet Town left home eventually.

After all, the town was famous for its trainers. It would be hard to find a child there who didn't know of the Gym Leader Blue, or of Red, the trainer who had defeated Team Rocket and ascended to the rank of Champion before his disappearance. While their fame may have faded in the rest of the region, their legacy held in their hometown. It was the dream of all would-be trainers in Pallet Town to someday follow in their footsteps.

Brian, who had grown up in the town, had the scruffy look of a kid who spent as much time outdoors as possible. His messy brown hair and wide brown eyes were a strange contrast against the pristine backdrop of the family dining room, complete with two neatly dressed parents. Brian on the other hand was dressed in a t-shirt and shorts and was squirming in his chair, but it had nothing to do with being stuck indoors. Brian was excited for one reason only: today was his birthday, and he wanted it to be perfect.

The cake was shaped liked a pokeball, just like he'd wanted. It also had twelve candles, an unfortunate reminder that he wasn't actually ten, but Brian had come to terms with that a long time ago. A neat stack of presents sat on the far end of the table, all of them from his parents. It was a smaller pile than he was used to, but that was a consequence of choosing a smaller party. He'd already had a goodbye party with his friends.

His dad came forward with a lighter and lit the circle of candles on the cake. "Make a wish Brian," he said as he sat back down.

Brian smiled and nodded. He gave the cake one last look over, closed his eyes, and wished as hard as he could.

'I want to be as great a trainer as Red was!'

His wish complete, Brian opened his eyes. He took a deep breath and blew, extinguishing all of the candles but one, which he glared at disdainfully before putting it out with a second breath. His parents rewarded him with some polite applause. Brian grinned in response. He wasn't going to let some candles ruin his birthday, especially this one. After all, it was going to be the day he'd finally become a pokemon trainer. He might have been a little older than the traditional age of ten, but it was better late than never, right?

"So Brian," his mom asked, "Do you want to have the cake first, or do you want to open presents?"

"Presents, please!" Brian chirped. Cake couldn't possibly compare to the presents he knew he was going to get. His dad passed him a large and lumpy present that he immediately tore into, unwrapping a burgundy backpack with a tag proclaiming that it was made with the latest in storage technology. Brian beamed and proceeded to stand up and put it on. It fit perfectly. "Wow... cool! Thanks!"

The rest of the presents followed the same theme. Soon a camping kit, a sleeping bag, some restoration items and a pokemon guidebook joined Brian's backpack in a pile. He was in the process of trying on a new pair of running shoes with the letter B emblazoned on the sides when his mother coughed politely. "Brian?"

"Yeah?" Brian paused and looked up from his shoes.

"There's one last present," his mother said, holding out a small red box, closed with a white ribbon. Brian stared. There was only one thing he could think of that could fit into a box that small. His shoelaces forgotten, Brian hastily accepted the small box and undid the ribbon. He looked at his parents, who nodded, and took off the lid. Nestled in a mass of colorful confetti was a small plastic card... and a pokeball.

Brian pulled out the card first and ran his fingers along the edges. It was his trainer's ID, with his name and face and everything. It meant that he was officially allowed to own and train pokemon, even as a minor. Which led to the second present... the pokeball. His pokeball. His parents had asked him what pokemon he wanted the most, but he couldn't decide. Whatever was in here was a complete mystery.

"Well," his dad said. "Don't keep her waiting."

Her? Brian picked up the pokeball and let it expand in his hand. It was a girl? It didn't really matter much, but it was different than he expected. He stood up and backed away from the table, looking for a place that wasn't taken by presents or furniture. He finally settled on the kitchen floor, and carefully aimed the pokeball. "Uh... Go!" He pressed the button and blinked his eyes shut as red light burst from the pokeball.

"Groooooow!"

Brian opened his eyes. A striped orange canine sat before him, panting cheerfully. Brian coudn't believe it. This was a growlithe! They were supposed to be some of the most loyal partners ever. He tentatively moved towards the pokemon, holding out a hand. "Um... hi?"

The growlithe sniffed his hand, and started to lick it. Brian pulled back with a squeak. Behind him he could hear his father laughing. He frowned, and then looked back at the growlithe, which had begun to sniff Brian's pants. He hoped that mean she liked him. Brian looked up at his parents. "Is... she's really mine? Does she have a name?"

"Of course she's yours... and you can name her if you want," his mother said.

Brian nodded, and looked down at the growlithe. She looked back. "Well then... I'm gonna call you Cinnamon. Is that okay?"

"Grow," she barked in response. As far as Brian could tell, the bark was approval.

"Okay, then," Brian said, bending down to meet the pokemon's eyes. "It's nice to meet you, Cinnamon!"

Cinnamon accepted the greeting in the only way she could - she licked Brian's face. Brian sputtered a bit, then laughed and rubbed the canine's head in response. His very own pokemon partner, just like he'd wanted, and she liked him! With a friend like this, his journey was going to be great. He was sure of it.

"Cinnamon, come on! We need to go home!"

The sun was hanging low in Pallet Town's sky, but Cinnamon charged on, heedless of Brian's encroaching bedtime. The canine pokemon seemed fascinated by the beach and was currently very invested in a game of "keep the away from Brian". Brian on the other hand was much less enthusiastic about the game. It was getting dark, the wind was getting in his eyes, and there was sand in his brand new shoes. He'd tried to recall her with the pokeball, but he wasn't very good at aiming the beam yet. It didn't help that she seemed to interpret his attempts to catch her as part of her game.

Exhausted, Brian found a seat on a driftwood log. Cinnamon turned and barked at him a few times before darting further down the beach. Brian let her; if he was lucky, she'd realize that he wasn't playing anymore and come back. Right now, he just wanted to catch his breath. No one had ever told him that being a pokemon trainer involved so much exercise!

The sky was already darkening, and the calls of pokemon drifted by on the wind over the sound of the tide. A krabby scuttled past, occasionally pausing the pick at the sand. Brian had been on the beach plenty of times before, and none of these things were new to him, but tonight the beach seemed like a completely different place. Maybe it was because this would be the last time he'd be here in a long time...

"Man, I wish I had some pokeballs," he mumbled. The krabby froze for a moment, and began to spit up a cloak of foam before scuttling off into the sea. Brian couldn't help but laugh at the sight, but he felt a little lonely now that it was gone. He hoped that Cinnamon came back soon. His parents would kill him if he lost her on the first day.

"It's a nice night, isn't it?" someone said.

Brian jerked upwards in response, and looked around. The voice had come from a man standing behind the log he was sitting on, who looked like he must have been at least 18. He was wearing a black jacket and a black hat that brown hair was trying to escape from, but his features were strangely unmemorable. Brian gulped, and looked down at his own shoes. "Um... yes, it is," he responded.

The man stepped over the log and sat down, and Brian tensed. He'd never seen this person in town before. What if he was dangerous? He vainly searched the horizon for Cinnamon, but the growlithe was far off and unaware of Brian's plight. Maybe if he was quiet, the man would leave him alone?

Unfortunately, the man seemed interested in conversation, even if it was one-sided. "You can barely tell the difference between day and night in bigger cities, but you can actually see the stars in small towns like this." The man glanced at Brian. "But I bet you'd rather be in one of those bigger cities anyway, eh?"

Brian blushed a little. "Y-yeah, kind of," he mumbled, looking at the man through the corner of his eyes. He was strange, but so far he didn't seem too dangerous. "Have you been to a lot of big cities?" he asked carefully. The man glanced at Brian, and then looked up at the sky.

"Yeah, I've been to a lot of places," he finally said. "All over Kanto, and even a bit of Johto. I used to be a trainer, you see-"

"A trainer? Really?" Brian's eyes widened. "Wow... you're so old."

The trainer grimaced. "I'm not that old, am I? ...don't answer that." The man looked at Brian, giving him what felt uncomfortably like a scrutinizing glare. "What about you? You look like you've been old enough to be a pokemon trainer for a while now."

"Uh-huh... I just turned twelve today," Brian admitted, again staring at his shoes. "I wanted to start my trainer journey when I turned ten, but then Mt. Cinnabar erupted. After that, my parents didn't want me to. They were scared."

"Well then, why not do it at eleven?" the man asked. He suddenly sounded a lot more interested in Brian.

"Well... I thought about it, but I thought that maybe it'd be better to wait until I finished with school," Brian said, remembering the day he'd made that choice. Waiting was a hard choice, but his parents had seemed happy about his decision. The man hummed thoughtfully.

"That's a pretty mature choice for a kid," the man said, standing up. Brian blinked and watched him dig through his pocket and pull out a round object. It was hard to see in the twilight, but it almost looked like a pokeball. Its paint was cracking and it seemed burnt in some places, but Brian recognized the shape of it. The man examined the pokeball himself, gave it a toss into the air, and held it out to Brian.

"Here."

Brian stared at the pokeball, and then at the man giving it to him. "Um... what is it?"

"It's a pokeball, obviously," the man said. "I've had it for a long time. Think of it as a... a good luck charm."

Brian took the pokeball, looking it over. It really was in bad shape. He pushed the button on the front, but it didn't even open. Brian frowned. "It's broken..."

"Maybe, but it's still lucky. Think of it as a gift from an veteran to a newbie. Maybe it'll bring you the same luck it brought me! You never know." The man grinned, and ruffled Brian's hair. Brian flinched a little bit. His hand was cold!

"Um... thank you." Brian stuffed the pokeball into his pocket. "Uh... I'm Brian. Brian Keyes. What's your name?"

"Me? I'm-" The man's introduction was interrupted by the sound of barking. Brian looked for the source of it and saw Cinnamon, trotting cheerfully towards Brian. He let out a sigh of relief, glanced apologetically at the man, and ran out to meet her.

"Cinnamon! I thought I'd lost you, girl." He scratched the growlithe between the ears. "You shouldn't run off like that. What if there was a strong pokemon out there?"

"Grooow," said Cinnamon, thoroughly enjoying Brian's attention.

"That's not an answer," Brian grumbled, before perking up. "Hey, Cinnamon, I met a real live trainer! See?" He paused in his petting and pointed out the log where he'd talked to the man. Cinnamon blinked once and gave Brian a quizzical look.

"No Cinnamon, right there! See...?" The man wasn't standing where Brian had left him. Confused, he looked around the beach, but there was no sign of the man. It was like he'd vanished.

"Where'd he go?" Brian wondered out loud. He checked his pocket and felt the curve of the old pokeball that he'd been given. At least he knew it hadn't been a dream. It was strange, though... maybe the man had an abra? That had to be the explanation. Otherwise there would have at least been footprints in the sand.

"Oh well," Brian said, giving Cinnamon another scratch. "Come on, Cin. We need to get back home! Tomorrow's a big day, after all." He started walking, and after a moment, Cinnamon followed as well. For a second Brian looked over his shoulder, checking to see if maybe the trainer was there, but there was nothing.

It was too bad. He never did get his name.

Author's Note: Long ago, I started writing and posting a story called "The MissingNO. Effect", though you won't find it on this account anymore. It was a story that had the fault of having been worked on over an extended period of time with no notes, and thus ended up in a corner.

This story's a rewrite of that original concept, this time with a great deal more planning and a different name. Anyone who read the old story will probably recognize the faces and scenarios, but you may find that the characters are a bit different and that events happen differently.

With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy Debugging Kanto!