It was raining on Viridian city, and I was in dire need of my routinely enjoyed cup of coffee in the morning. A cup of delicious coffee from Café Classe—conveniently located on the ground floor of my apartment building back on Lumiose City—was normally the only adequate start of any regular day in my life. I'll share a little secret with you, I chose that specific apartment as my residence only because it was so close to my delicious daily delight. I have never told that to anybody, and I feel guilty because of how much I've let the black, morose liquid—a gift from the heavens—take a hold of me. I could've chosen many other apartments closer to my job on the National Board of Pokemon Performers, located on the north-west side in Lumiose, and I'd never let anyone know such a selfish endeavor made my choice for me. But in here, in here I can express my true feelings freely and unashamedly: I love coffee! I love it so much. Besides, what's better than walking through the streets of the most beautiful city in the world, admiring the people, the architecture, life itself, as I delight myself with the infallible antidote against the dreaded discourage that must come along with all the wonders and joys that constitute life? I love my daily walk to work!

But this wasn't a regular day in my life. As I sat in front of the only window in my hotel room, on the fourth floor, gazing at the shades of gray outside. Pouring rain, which the plants on the park right across from my hotel would certainly love, hid the little, adorable coffee shop, which I was ecstatic to discover right across the considerably large park on the opposite side. Tragically I lost my umbrella during my trip to Kanto, a trip that was forcefully imposed on me by my friends and co-workers, who, for some foolish reason, thought I needed a vacation; thought—as they couldn't comprehend that some people prefer to bury themselves on their work as a way to deal with the hardships of life—that I was getting too overworked and stressed out. I love my work, I love my desk, so if you catch me sleeping on it a few times and every time I wake up the paperwork beneath me has been drowned by unconsciously produced tears, that doesn't mean I'm tired, it doesn't mean I'm sad, it means my job is my life, and life can only be bittersweet at best; if you're living you're laughing and you're hurting, and I love to live! But what could I do?

So there I was, hopeless and coffeeless, incapable of bringing myself to sprint through the park to reach my mouth's paradise. I couldn't do that to my clothes, which had only served me with tact and care, therefore the only way I could reciprocate their endeavors was by caring for them with the best care I could produce; that not a single drop of water reached their surface was owed to them.

I guess I was in need of a change. I not only run on coffee, I also run on love, to this very day. But, it must be admitted that at that point in time the perpetually single, misunderstood-by-her-peers Serena's love reserves were running out (yes I did just refer to myself in third person). Love woke me up in the morning, love allowed me to sleep at night (so of course I had not been getting much sleep, and that had been going on for quite a while). Perhaps I had agreed to leave everything I knew, everything I thought kept me sane, and go on vacation by myself, because I had the dimmest hope that a change of air would allow me to rediscover the source of my love, or would at least help me recharge my love reserves, here on ma petite cachette au paradis: Viridian City, Kanto Region.

It wasn't working, and a little part of me was keen on going back to Lumiose without having gained the positive, relaxed outlook my friends were hoping I'd get by sending me here. And of course another part of me felt horrible for thinking with such a spiteful intent; I knew they only wanted the best for me. Besides I also knew that I'd never reveal just how ineffective this escape had turned out to be; they'd only know I'd had a grand time. My time in Viridian was almost over anyway; I'd only have to resist another day, afterwards I'd be able to return to the muted existence I recognized.

I didn't move from my seat until it stopped raining. I quietly, peacefully floated through six sets of stairs, as I reflected and inwardly rejoiced once the sky stopped whining: I would get my daily dosage. The skies remained gray, the ground was wet, and some accumulations of water turned the path dangerous for my shoes, but, I had to admit, it was pure bliss, even if I knew it to be empty and transient. The walk through the park left a different flavor in my mouth, different from the one my usual walks to work allowed me to taste, but it was not any less pleasant, it was adequately bittersweet, if overtly melancholic. The air I breathed around the green scenery genuinely made sad and happy at the same time, it filled me with love, which left me after it made its round through my body.

I crossed the park and obtained my liquid treasure. Simply by holding it in my hands my face shone with a childish happiness, still hollow, but I could sense it taking hold of the muscles around my mouth to make a sincere smile. As soon as I walked out of the store my face reflected the sunlight back at the barely visible dot hiding behind the clouds. I walked back into the park and produced my always-reliable handkerchief, masterfully unfolded it with my right hand as I held what was currently my most prized possession on my left one, and I neatly set the impromptu protector of my rear down on a still wet bench, before I sat on it, eager and ready to enjoy my prize. The little birds sang, the wind made the trees move and rejoice as the boiling nectar of mother nature herself gently and warmly caressed but the tip of my tongue. My eyes were closed, my nose had already prepared my body and my mind for that first contact, scintille le soleil, but the uncontested best part was yet to come, the concrete content of my cup had yet to reach my throat. It was a ritual, it had become the only moment of my life that brought me real joy, comme tristement déprimant.

Suddenly the birds stopped their song, the wind stopped blowing, and the ensuing silence felt like an expectant drum roll for my second kiss with my hot gentleman. The creatures and the green around me solemnly paid their respects to our connection, I loved everyone for it.

But before I could make contact with the coffee, as my mouth was assaulting the cup while I had my eyes closed, a noise interrupted us—a faint and instant sob. To another person it may have not affected, it would have been quite easy to dismiss it as nothing, but I couldn't ignore it. I wasn't only able to hear it, I was able to feel it. And then there it was again, I was certain it wasn't an hallucination or a mischievous distraction; a sob, filled with anguish and distress, and love and sadness, and the longing of a child. I lamented setting my coffee on the bench before I stood up, with a pair of alert, almost angry eyes that pleaded to find the source of the adorably anxious wailing. The sobbing continued, audible weeping added and accompanied the disarming tune. My ears led me to her. I saw her. My knees started shaking, my insides were ready to explode at the sight of her. She was the most adorable thing I had seen in all my life. I wanted to cry with her, although my cries would've been from happiness, simply because someone like her was allowed to exist. It was a little girl, she couldn't have been 7 years old yet. She quietly wiped the tears off of her face with her little fist. I approached her as cautiously yet as affably as I could, slowly knelt in front of her, and half consciously placed my hands in front of my chest, as per my cuteness-proximity-sensor's orders.

"Don't worry little one, everything's going to be fine, are you lost?" I said. Then she looked at me with a pair of teary, pleading, big brown eyes. They paralyzed me, they wore me down. I once more wanted to cry with her, but this time out of sudden sadness. She nodded, and I forced myself to react.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm going to help you find your mom and dad,"

"My mommy's gone," she uttered with her fragile angel's voice, "she's in heaven," she said, breaking my heart. I was supposed to comfort her and help her, not make her feel worse. I can't remember if I said I'm sorry next, my brain was melting.

"Are you here with your dad?"

"Aha," she nodded again, "we went to buy ice cream, when I saw a little pidgey. I just wanted to play with him, I love pokemon, I followed it but I couldn't keep up, and then my daddy was gone." She finalized and then started formally crying.

"Don't cry little one, you know, I used to travel with a girl your age, and together we met many pokemon, and I became friends with some of them, would you like to meet one?"

Her face lit up, she stopped crying, she completely forgot she was lost, all in a second. I called sylveon out. Her mouth and eyes became perfectly round circles, petit bonbon, she reached and caressed and sylveon welcomed her warmly. It was an instant connection, the little one was a natural.

I became paralyzed again, I don't know how much time passed but it was enough for her to remember her situation, and she started sobbing again. I consoled her a little more and she wiped her tears off, then I grabbed her adorably little hand and took her with me to another place in the park, one where the trees wouldn't decrease our visibility so much.

Then I heard a thunder, or what I thought was a thunder, I'm not sure. My heart started pounding me from the inside. My chest, my neck and arm all started hurting from the sudden pressure. My ears started buzzing. I could see but I couldn't notice a thing. The little one screamed and let go of my arm, and woke me up from my lethargic nightmare; the little one was too scared to move an inch too far from me, and I realized why she was startled, when I heard the desperate cries of a desperate father. The little one was desperately trying to find the condensation of the wandering voice; her eyes veered off to all directions.

I grabbed her hand and together we ran towards the voice until we found its source, and we found it, oh yes! We found it, and I became paralyzed again. I'm an idiot, of course it was him (and that was decidedly a bad thing). It was obvious, the signs were all there, of course the little one was a natural, she had it in her blood. Her father was Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town, standing feet away from me, and I was holding his daughter.