'…And all the other pokémon scorned the one whose only goal was to jump off cliffs, and they sealed away its image and behavior in a special PokéDex entry that can only be read by the prophesied trainer who can catch it… That has yet to happen, however. In fact, no human has even seen it! Though there have been supposed sightings of the ancient pokémon, they all turned out to be different, unique creatures with their own behavior and entries.'

"But Grampa, how do you know all that if no one's ever found it?"

"Shh, I'm getting there!" The old man chuckles, scanning his storybook to find the place at which he was cut off. '…The mythical pokémon is very lonely, as all the other pokémon shunned it after its hobbies became known. It is said to live in the mountains, near a stream that leads to a waterfall… its favorite type of cliff to leap off of. It awaits its destined trainer, who will one day catch it at the bottom of that waterfall and liberate it from its old life!

"…This legend has been passed down by Celebi through the years, but few people of this generation still remember it. Maybe its trainer is somewhere out there, right now… I just hope someone finds that secret place, and helps that poor pokémon…"

The young boy sits silently on his grandfather's lap, thinking. Then, "What's a Serebii?"


The boy leaned against Professor Oak's lab, his expression cool and confident. The story he'd been told years ago still burned brightly in his mind, and especially at this moment. He could almost imagine the look on that old man's face when he brought in his PokéDex all filled up with entries, but one in particular. The pokémon that jumped off cliffs… There was no way he wouldn't be able to find it, and no way he wouldn't be able to make up for all the friendship and care it had been denied its whole life!

"Yo, Gary! What's up?"

He whirled at the voice of his least favorite person in the world. "Hey, that's not my name! I keep telling you; it's Blue! Got that?"

His self-proclaimed archrival tilted his head in silent contemplation, and several long seconds passed before he finally snapped his fingers. "Oh, right! You're his little cousin!"

"We're the same age, moron. His hair just happens to be an inch higher than mine… And I still say your cousin should have switched names with you. 'Red Ketchup' would be a much nicer name for little Ash." Blue smirked, watching the boy's face redden.

"Hey! His name is Ketchum, you little punk!" The other boy huffed angrily, unaware that Blue had come close to saying something worse.

Oak's grandson waved a disregarding hand, turning to enter the Lab. No need to anger the Red-Hat Clan for no reason. The instant he opened the door, a blur of motion streaked past him and shot inside. "Whoa, wait up, Gary!"

"See, there he is. I knew that kid wouldn't be second to anyone…" Red ceased his pointless muttering, realizing he was all alone outside.


Oak paced back and forth, coming to a difficult decision. "All right, boys. Since Ash clearly isn't going to show up on time, you can go ahead and fight over the Charmander now."

"It's mine!" Red stepped forward, determination burning in his eyes. "Because he's the same color as-"

"As your blasted name; sure, sure. Then I'm gonna get you, Squirtle!" Gary held out his hands, catching the little ball Oak tossed to him. "Thanks, Gramps."

Blue glared at the other boys. He'd gotten no say in the matter, as usual. At least Ash wasn't on time; then Blue would most certainly have been stuck with the rabid Pikachu his grandfather had caught the other day… At length, he sighed and strode over to the machine. "Am I the only one who's going to give a real name to my life-long partner?"

The other boys stared at him. "How girly," Gary snorted, and Red followed him out the door, chortling in a very unbecoming way. Blue watched them go, his cheeks flushed with anger. His cousin had so little compassion, it was a miracle he was deemed worthy of a pokémon at all!

"Ignore them, kid." Oak patted him on the back with a sympathetic smile. "My grandson can be a little rude sometimes… But I don't think I caught your name! Strange; you look familiar… So, are you a boy or a girl?"

Blue rolled his eyes. Every time he turned his back, Oak was suffering temporary memory lapse. Whenever it happened, the only thing to do was humor the old man. "…I'm a boy. My name's Blue!"

"Blue, is it?" When his grandson nodded, Oak clapped his hands briskly and turned to the pokéball machine. "Well, thank you for volunteering to help me today. And which pokémon would you… Ack! There's only Bulbasaur left! What on Earth… I must have been robbed!"

The boy sighed and retreated to the corner of the room. Professor Oak only got this way when he was alone with Blue, and whenever someone else entered the room, the man recovered his self-awareness instantly. Thus, no one believed the grandson who insisted his grandfather was senile, and the police department got phone calls every few months regarding the monthly missing starter pokémon and Blue had had terrible luck in begging for his own. Though it had started a few years ago, Blue had hopes that the cliff-jumping pokémon would fix the old man's memory for good.

"…Ah well, that's that. You must help me, volunteer boy. I'm too old to chase after the punks that stole those pokémon, but I bet you could do the job just fine!" Oak beamed merrily as he handed Blue the last pokéball. "You look like a good kid. Take this Bulbasaur and fetch those poor pokémon back!"

The boy looked up at him dubiously. This was a welcome turn of events, but… "Don't I get a PokéDex?"

"How do you know about that?! …O-of course not; you're just doing me a favor. Maybe if you do a good enough job, I'll consider it…" Oak frowned. "But I have high standards that you couldn't dream of achieving, sonny."

Blue gazed down at the pokéball hopelessly. His master plan was ending before it even started. How was he supposed to acquire an ancient PokéDex entry if he didn't even have a PokéDex?!

"Oh, and that pokémon isn't free, either. But if you prove yourself worthy of being its trainer…" The Professor shrugged, much to Blue's dismay. Without a pokémon, Blue wouldn't even be able to find the one that jumped off cliffs! Why was the old man so intent on ruining his own memory?!

The door flew open and Ash Ketchum burst in, panting heavily and still dressed in his pajamas. "Hey, Professor! Sorry I'm late!"

"Sorry's not good enough. I already took Bulbasaur," Blue scoffed, recovering from his disappointment long enough to wave his new -if not temporary- pokéball mockingly.

"Blue!" Oak chided, to the boy's great relief. Apparently, his memory had returned with the arrival of Ash Ketchum. "No grandson of mine mocks his fellow trainers!"

Ash shrugged. "No, it's okay. There are still the others, right?" When Oak shook his head sorrowfully, the boy's eyes went wide. "But-! But-! …Hey, kid. Can I please have Bulbasaur?"

"No."

Oak sighed, glaring at Blue as he pressed his secret giant red button on the wall. A dumbwaiter rose up, carrying the rabid Pikachu. The mouse twittered in its cage until Oak opened the latch to take it in his gloved hands. "Here you go, Ash… a freshly caught pokémon, one that requires great skill to control. But, I daresay you could train this Pikachu better than anyone else in this room…"

Blue took the insult silently, maintaining his composure for a few seconds before making a metal note to beat the Pikachu to within an inch of its life with his evolved Venusaur the first chance he got.

"Aww, it's so cute!" Ash squealed, twirling the enraged electric mouse in large circles and giggling without abandon.

"Are you going to nickname it?"

"Of course not! How girly…"


'It's over now. No more of Grampa's senile memory loss, and no more of those crazy cousins,' Blue told himself as he strode through the thick grass of Route 1. 'You're on your own now, with a pokémon in your pocket and a trainer card all your own. And in your hand… your own PokéDex!'

Oh, the PokéDex… It had taken several minutes to explain to Oak that he still hadn't received one -and in front of Ash, no less! That kid had gotten his right away, along with the nameless Pikachu… And he was allowed a head start on Blue, because of the 'cruel taunting' earlier! Sometimes it seemed the old professor was trying to make Blue hate him!

A rustle in the grass behind him interrupted his musings, and the boy whipped around eagerly. He pulled Bulbasaur's pokéball out of his jeans pocket, his hands shivering with anticipation. Here it was… his first pokémon battle! His first step in finding the mythical pokémon that would heal Grampa forever!

A small brown head popped out of the thick grass and the boy sighed, severely disappointed. Only a weak bird to remember this momentous occasion by… After a quick scan of the area, the wild Pidgey glared warningly at Blue as it flapped slowly into the air. A tiny Rattata dangled from its talons, so badly scratched that it could barely twist about in its captor's firm hold. As he watched in amazement, Blue noticed battle scars on the Pidgey, as well -and they looked fairly recent! Were the wounds from a wild pokémon battle… or had The Red-Hat Clan ganged up on the two pokémon? The Pidgey wouldn't have had much of a chance against the Pikachu…

Blue glanced at his pokéball guiltily. No real trainer would victimize pokémon that had already been beaten up this badly. The Pidgey even looked like it was trying to Fly the poor Rattata away, out of danger! "Sorry, Bulbasaur. I- I still haven't decided on a name for you, so we won't battle this time…" Reluctantly, he pocketed the capsule.

"Pidge!" The sudden cry startled Blue, and he looked up at the struggling bird pokémon with tears in his eyes. He hadn't known being a trainer was going to be so cruel! Why did they have to attack weak pokémon that could barely fight back? These creatures had been set upon so savagely, they were beaten to within an inch of their lives! And yet, the Pidgey was still willing to fight back, to protect its friend…

"Ra~t," the purple creature moaned sadly, almost as if it was speaking to the bird. At length, the Pidgey squawked again and laid its burden gently back into the tall grass. Its head rotated slowly around to glower at the young trainer.

Blue took a wary step back. Watching the heartbreaking scene had completely destroyed his will to fight, and he was also not about to send out Bulbasaur against a pokémon with a type advantage. "Hey now, just fly away… I won't hurt you guys, I promise!" In response to his pleading, the Pidgey dropped to the ground and waddled furiously up to his shoes.

"Pidge! Pidge!" It leapt up again, flapping its wings frantically to kick up a small dust storm. Blue watched helplessly, his fingers clenched tightly around Bulbasaur's pokéball. He allowed the bird to keep up the Sand Attacks, gritting his teeth and reminding himself that he couldn't be hurt as badly as the Rattata had been. After just moments, he couldn't see anything but the torn wings slicing through the air in front of him…

Torn wings? "You're hurt!" Blue cried, understanding instantly. "Your wings are still injured from a battle, so you can't fly very well! Is that what you're trying to show me?" The Rattata squeaked plaintively from somewhere in the grass, its cry causing the rhythmic flapping of the wings to skip a beat. Now Blue understood what was going on… The Pidgey wanted to be healed so it could fly again, and carry the Rattata away from the bullying grounds!

"Erm, sorry… I'm new to this trainer thing, so all I have is a Potion here… Would you like it?" As he coughed out the last of the dust in his lungs, Blue offered his purple bottle to where he had seen the Pidgey last. A short shriek rang out, and the Potion was pulled from his hand.

As the wind died down, the first thing Blue saw was the purple liquid sliding down the throat of the Rattata. The Pidgey was holding it aloft, dangling it by its talons so the rat could drink with ease. "Pidge," it chirped happily, after a grateful nod to the boy. When the bottle was empty, the bird nudged its friend and took to the air one last time.

Blue yelped as little claws dug into his legs. Looking down, he saw the healed Rattata squealing up to the Pidgey that was now perched on his shoulder. "Wait, little guy… you're leaving your friend behind? Why would you…" He trailed off, seeing the determination burning in the fierce brown eyes. The same fire was visible in the little rat, as well, and for the same reason: Both of them wanted to pay back the boys who had attacked them so mercilessly, and they both knew the Pidgey was the only one capable of doing it.

"I'm sorry… I told you I'm new to this trainer business. The thing is… I don't have a pokéball for you," Blue admitted, rubbing his sore throat. The two pokémon simply stared at him. "W-what?! It's not like I can just… aw, what the heck."