The steady ebb and flow of the waves was a soothing, relaxing sound, and brought a sense of normalcy when there was none to be found. In convert, boats from the harbor gave out steady, belching roars, reminding the people of Vermillion City that all was well in Kanto's bustling port.
All of this was heard by many, but particularly by one.
There was a humble cottage seated upon a bluff overlooking the sea, its white painted blinds flung wide open. The salty air rushed in to greet the cottage's occupant, recently awake from a restless sleep. The air tickled his acute senses. It went first to his nose, then the nerves in his hands and feet, as a preparation to make a move of offense or defense. The smell traveled after to his ears, to ascertain the closeness of a potential threat. And lastly, the sense made his eyes open slowly, for the eye was a deceiver, and not to be trusted.
He realized within a split second that the sense was not a threat, and therefore timed his awakening with a more relaxed pace. His feet stirred, and moved downward off of the bed while his torso moved upward to form a ramrod-straight position. The feet were slid snugly into a heavy pair of combat boots, a kind that went six inches above the ankle and had eight loops for laces. They matched his camouflage-printed sleeveless shirt and military-style haircut that shaved his white-blonde hair into a perfect plateau.
Lieutenant Surge, Vermillion City Gym Leader, reporting for duty, sir!
Surge paused to take in the world around him. Combat medals, perfectly shined like the day they were awarded, gleamed from sunlight reflected through the window. An old, black-and-white photo, picturing a young man that was clearly Surge and other soldiers, lined up at parade rest with an American flag in the background, rested in a frame on the small, functional nightstand next to the bed, which was simple, with the functionality of a cot but the comfort of a bed. He looked at the picture again. Mere weeks after it had been taken, the army had dismissed him as crazy, and sent him to recuperate in a mental institution around Lavender Town. He knew something they could never possibly believe...
Sleep the night before had not come easily.
Yesterday there had been a challenger. Red was his name. All Surge remembered was that this Red, who had come from nowhere, had grasped victory with only a few single maneuvers, sending the Leader's own shocking electricity back at him. The most striking thing was not that Surge had lost, for he had not lost a Pokémon battle in a long time, but that throughout the entire sequence of events, even when he had accepted his badge, Red had no spoken a single word.
Nothing.
He glanced over to the shelf that held his Poké Balls. How could they have lost, after all that had happened between them?
"I tell you, kid, electric Pokémon saved me during the war!"
Lt. Surge, Gym Leader of Vermillion City, rested back on his bed and remembered.