Haha, oh wow, I can't believe I finally wrote this.
As if there was any doubt, I don't own Pokémon.
"All right, let's… Let's check again." She squinted, bent over her bag, and began to count her supplies one last time.
"…Money. Food. Flashlight." She marked off each item on a list that was covered with check-marks already. "More food, socks, a raincoat, bandages, medicine…" Her hand halted as she got to the last word. "Five Pokéballs."
She wasn't going to be the best-prepared newbie. Her supplies had been put together from whatever she could grab around the house: all the non-perishable food she could find in the kitchen, a collection of the most practical clothes she owned, and a bottle of headache pills and some rubbing alcohol from the bathroom.
But the Pokéballs… The Pokéballs were from Professor Elm. Her parents had never kept stuff like that around the house. They were worried it'd give her ideas—as if she needed encouragement.
She couldn't do this.
She shut her eyes and shook her head, as her stomach churned with the latest wave of guilt. No. She could do this. She was ready. She had to be.
"I guess it's all here," she whispered, her voice coming out small and shaky. "Come on, Ringo. We're ready to go." But the Tyrogue hesitated, his face as conflicted as hers. He'd been giving her disapproving looks all day, and she knew why. Technically, he wasn't hers. Technically, he belonged to "the Center", as she called it. So technically, taking him with her like this was stealing.
No. They might say it was stealing, but what did they know? They didn't know how close the two of them were, or why she had to go, and if she told them, they wouldn't let her leave. Her mission was too important to let herself be stopped by them.
Besides, she would bring him back someday. And he'd be even stronger then, so that should make them happy.
"They'll understand," she said, reassuring both her Pokémon and herself. "This is important. And… It's an adventure. You and me. Like we wanted. Don't you…" Her voice broke, and she grabbed one of his small shoulders. "Please… I can't go without you. You're my only Pokémon. And you're…"
She watched him think it over, hand to his chin. Finally, to her relief, he gave a solemn nod, and picked up the last remaining bag she'd packed.
She grinned, blinking back tears. "I knew you'd stay with me."
There was one final step to take. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a sixth Pokéball, emblazoned with the letters NBRC. She pressed the button in the center twice, once to enlarge it and again to spring it open. Then she handed it to Ringo, who took one half in each hand and, after a moment's hesitation, pulled them apart. There was a small click followed by a snap as the ball broke in two, and the Tyrogue was bathed in a soft blue glow.
He was hers now.
They went out the bedroom door and climbed down the stairs, staying vigilant for any signs of trouble. But they made it safely all the way to the kitchen, where she stopped again. She hadn't wanted to leave this way. Her parents would worry, and she would be guilty, and they might even send the police after her. But she couldn't say goodbye.
Still, she snatched a piece of paper and a pencil from the counter, and scribbled a hasty note.
"All right, let's go."
The display of her pink digital watch glowed in the darkness, giving the time as a quarter past ten. If she moved quickly, she could be halfway to Cherrygrove before her parents even woke up.
She crept to the door and walked outside, shutting it carefully behind her. In the darkness, she bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, but she kept herself from kept herself from crying. She was on her own now. She had to be strong.
Taking a few steadying breaths, she started down the path to New Bark Town, leaving only the note on the table behind her.
Mom, Dad,
Professor Elm sent me to do something important. I'm leaving with Ringo.
I love you.
It was already ten o'clock, but we were still having dinner. My mom had insisted, even though they'd gotten back late, that we would eat together to celebrate today.
"So. You're my little graduate now, huh?"
The way she said it made me cringe. "Uh. Yeah, I guess so."
'…A zeppelin crashed today south of Blackthorn City. Evidence points to a possible impact with a Skarmory, but experts are still investigating…'
The television blared from the living room and into the kitchen, where the atmosphere had suddenly become kind of tense and silent. It had been like that a lot lately.
"I'm so proud of you," my mom continued, ignoring the change in the mood. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there, but your father said this was important and that he needed me there to help. You know how he is."
"It's fine." I shrugged and kept my eyes on my plate. "It's not like it was a big thing, they just handed out the diplomas…"
"That's right, this was important," my father cut in. "Today was the day of the Oddish mating ritual, which only happens once per year, and you agreed that observing it would be key in—"
My mom shushed him and turned back to me. "So, graduate, what are you going to do now? There's a very nice secondary school in the northern part of the city. It's a little far, but we could move closer, or you could commute by the city line. Or…" Her voice dropped and her face grew into a wide, conspiratorial grin. "Are you going to do what we talked about the other day?"
Oh, Arceus. She just had to bring that up.
"Oh?" My father's eyes immediately narrowed. "What exactly were you talking about?"
"Nothing! We didn't talk about anything!" I shook my head and waved my hands frantically. "What did you say about the Oddish…?"
"Leslie told me he was thinking about becoming a Pokémon trainer," said my mom, who must have arrived late the day Uxie was giving out wisdom. "He said he was going to discuss it with you, too, but I guess he didn't get around to that?" She gave me a raised-eyebrow stare.
I sank my face into my hands. Of course I hadn't talked it over with my father. It wasn't like he would have said yes.
"I thought you were going to continue your schooling," he said, and I groaned at the oncoming conversation. "What made you change your mind?"
"I don't know," I said miserably, my voice muffled. "It just seemed like… Something I could do. I mean, a lot of people in my class went out, and they…"
"And they didn't graduate, did they?" I didn't look up, but I could just picture the look on his face. Sharp eyes, knit brow, convinced that he would talk me out of this. "Now, tell me. You're twelve years old. This is an important time in your life. What do you plan to do when you end up, after running around the countryside for a few years, with a handful of badges and no proper education?"
"I don't know." I knew that was the argument he'd make, but I still hadn't found an effective way to counter it. "But I guess if training doesn't work, I could always go back to school and—"
"No. What if something goes wrong? We can't afford hospital bills and tuition. You could go out there tomorrow and get mauled, and then you would be—"
"Colin!" My mom's voice cut in, sharp enough that I looked up in shock. She had stood up and was glaring at my father, making him freeze for just a moment before he replied.
"I'm just letting him know what he's—"
The doorbell rang, cutting off the budding argument. My mom cast my father one more pissed-off glare, and then left to answer it, I guess because she was already standing up. Either way, it left me sitting alone with my father, and under the full power of his hard eyes. Feeling awkward, I resumed staring at my half-eaten food.
She soon returned, thankfully, with another person in tow. It was my uncle, which was weird; he didn't come by that often. I'd seen him maybe three times in the past few years. Still reeling from the last back-and-forth, I struggled to compose myself and say hello. "Hi. Uh, what are you doing here?"
My mom began to chide me for being rude, but my uncle grinned and waved it away. "I'm here to congratulate you for making it through school. Oh, and to wish you a happy early birthday, since you might not be around for me to say it to you then.
What was that supposed to mean? Either I was getting sent off to boarding school next term, or… Oh, no. She didn't.
"Your mom called me the other night," he continued, confirming my worst fears. "She was all excited, saying you were planning to go out and train just like her. Is that right?"
"Maybe. I-I think, uh." I stammered, trying to find an answer that would please everyone. "I don't know yet. Not for sure."
"Great! I bet her that you were too boring to do that. Too much like your father. But I guess she wins, which means that you get this." He pulled something out from the pocket of his sports jacket. It was a little red and white sphere, with a golden "GC" emblazoned at the top.
Wait. That was a Pokéball.
"I made a killing at the casino the other day, so I figured I'd get you a…" My father huffed, and my uncle chuckled. "Problem?"
"He's just being—"
"I don't think my son should be encouraged to gamble."
"Now you're just nitpicking. The casino is far from the worst thing in this town, and I think he's responsible enough to know not to…"
My mom and dad were arguing again, but I barely heard them. My whole attention was fixed on the Pokéball held by my uncle. He turned to me, smiled, and tossed the ball over to me. "Here you go, she's all yours."
I snapped out of the trance and grabbed at it, but I missed entirely, and the ball bounced off my face and onto the ground. "Ow…" I rubbed my stinging forehead and thought loathful thoughts. Everyone knew I was the most uncoordinated person ever, so why did they throw things at me?
I didn't complain, though, because I was interrupted by a flash of light. The ball's opening mechanism must have triggered when it hit the floor, because it had opened up, and the Pokémon from inside was forming. I forgot about my minor injury and bent down to stare. The shape of the Pokémon formed: four legs, two ears, a tail, and…
"Growlithe," I guessed, but I was way off. The actual Pokémon turned as the light faded, and gave me a nervous stare.
"Vee?"
I blinked the spots from my eyes and looked again. "Oh. It's… An Eevee?"
As soon as I said it, the tiny Pokémon startled and bolted away, but it got tangled up by its own legs and ran straight into a chair leg.
"Ha, look at that! She's a klutz just like you."
I picked the Pokémon up cautiously, hoping it hadn't just cracked open its own head. It took a moment to realize what my uncle was saying. "Wait, 'she'?" The little Eevee stirred in my hands.
"That's right, I got her checked and sexed at the Pokémon Center, and she's a girl. You're lucky, they're pretty hard to find. Popular with breeders, too. She'll make a great starting Pokémon."
My heart skipped, and then jumped up into my throat. I turned back to my uncle and replied, a little too quickly, "Starter Pokémon?"
"Well, you're going to be a trainer, aren't you? All trainers like Eevees. You can evolve them into almost anything, which is good, because I didn't know what kind of Pokémon you liked…
"But…" I squeaked past the sudden dryness in my throat. "I'm not a trainer yet. I haven't registered. I don't even know if my parents will let me go!"
"Oh, I'm sure they will. Your mom said she was sure she could get your dad to agree." At that, my mom punched him in the arm. "What? You did."
I barely heard him. The Eevee was struggling in my arms, and I unconsciously gripped her tighter.
Eevee aren't strong. But they're rare! There's no way I'm raising a girl Pokémon. It's better than the official starters in this region…
But I wasn't a trainer yet.
Yet.
I shook the jumbled thoughts out of my head, and tried to think of something to say. "…My dad, he said that the game corner is run by Team Rocket," I said weakly, grasping at the first thing that came to mind, "and that they sell off their weakest Pokémon there, so no real trainer would want them, because…" My voice broke off before I could finish.
My uncle just laughed and clapped my father on the shoulder, causing him to glower and inch away. "Out of the mouths of babes, eh? My sister always liked the crazy one. But I don't think you've got anything to worry about, the Rockets have been dead and gone for years now. Your dad's just making up excuses for being so bad at the slots."
The Eevee was trying to wriggle out of my arms, so I placed her back on the floor, where she twitched her ears and glanced around nervously. I think she felt the same way I did. Then I looked up, and it was a mistake. I saw my father, who was staring down at me and shaking his head. My mom was beaming. My uncle was laughing at something again, and the sound echoed hollowly in my ears.
I had a Pokémon. But I couldn't. It was too soon. This wasn't the plan. I was going to wait, and…
I had to go. I had to figure out what had just happened.
"I'm going to my room!" My voice was louder and more awkward than usual, but I didn't care. I grabbed the thoroughly confused Eevee, who let out a startled yelp, and left the kitchen at a speed just below running.
"So, we lost. Again." Her Charmander looked up, fiery tail swishing back and forth.
"But that's okay!" she concluded, and stood up straight. "We'll find a way and do it next time!"
The Charmander just snorted and spat a small plume of flame towards the ground. The girl didn't notice.
"Tomorrow we're gonna do some more target practice on the Pidgey, and maybe we can find a new trainer to battle." Most of the trainers in this town wouldn't battle her. She'd developed a reputation, which she was sort of proud of, even if it was annoying. "That sounds fun, right?"
Her discouraged Pokémon just rolled his eyes.
They reached the door to her house, and she pulled out the key to unlock it. She always remembered to lock the door, even without being reminded, because security was obviously important to a person like her.
The house's only other line of security buzzed a greeting as she walked inside. It was a Voltorb, hidden in a gap between the floorboards, that was trained to explode when an intruder came in. She knew this, because she'd made sure of it herself.
"Hi to you too!" She barely had time to wave before running after her Charmander, who she wasn't supposed to leave alone in the house, because he might set something on fire again. He'd wandered into the kitchen, and was currently eyeing the diminishing stock of Pokémon Chow with a look of obvious displeasure.
"Don't worry, once we beat Falkner, we'll have plenty of money to buy more food." He grunted. "Oh, Jira, don't be such a pessimist. I'm sure we can do it." She pulled out a half-empty jug of unlabelled juice and drank from it. There wasn't much human food left, either.
She knew they could beat him. All those other trainers did. There was obviously some sort of secret, something her team was missing. But how could she find out what it was when nobody would battle her?
She'd thought about it before. The rest of those trainers were different from her in a few important ways. They usually came from other towns, most of them had gotten their first Pokémon from Professor Elm, and most of them had more than one Pokémon. And most of them were very rude to her.
She couldn't do much about most of those things. Maybe she could find another Pokémon, but there were none around here that she liked. She wanted to train an awesome, giant, ferocious Pokémon, like a Snorlax, or a Lugia, or a Charizard once Gojira evolved. All this town had were Pidgey and Sentret. Sentret were okay, but she was never fast enough to catch them.
If only she had an electric-type, beating Falkner would be easy. There were some Mareep living on the southern route, but they were hard to find, because other trainers with the same idea always came out and…
Slowly, she halted the jug on its way to her mouth, and smacked her forehead dramatically. How had she not made the connection before? She'd never really thought of it as a Pokémon, but…
"Jira! Don't worry! I know what we're gonna do!" She ran out of the kitchen and back to the hallway. The Charmander stayed behind, trying to open a can of food without scattering the contents everywhere. A pile of destroyed cans and discarded food lay at his feet.
"VOLTORB!" She skidded to a stop just before landing on top of it. "Voltorb! You've been recruited!"
The ball-shaped Pokémon turned halfway around, eyeing her distrustfully.
"You're going to be on my team! You'll be my trick! The ace in my hole!" She crouched down and snatched Voltorb up, lifting it into the air. "It'll all be on you!"
"Vuul…" The Voltorb rocked lamely and stared back at its home under the floor.
"Come on! It'll be exciting! You'll be like a hero if you can beat him, and you'll get so strong! I'm sure you want to, right?"
The Voltorb buzzed noncommittally.
"That's a yes!" She grabbed it with both hands and cheered. "Jira, we've got a new teammate!"
Gojira grunted, but didn't come out from the kitchen.
"Now, if you're gonna be on my team, you need a name. Lucky for you, I'm great at thinking up names." She grinned. "You'll be…Voltar. Okay?"
"Vul…"
"Great!" She jumped up and ran to open the door, which she'd locked again from the inside. "Jira, get up here! We're going to have a late-night training session!"
In the distance, the moon was rising over the mountains in the east. She could picture herself already, standing in front of that backdrop, the silhouetted heroine of her nameless comic. She would raise her fist and call for victory; renew her vow to defeat Falkner once and for all. And her Pokémon would cheer. If she could get the timing of her dramatic speech right, then surely the leader would crumble before her tomorrow.
That was how her world worked.
A/N: Yes, Eevee starters are terrible. I hate them too. I'll make it up to you all somehow.
For the curious, this takes place in the game universe, going by anime rules, with bits from the manga thrown in for fluff.