Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon, its characters or its regions. However this story idea is mine, as are the main character Zayn and his family, the Shadow Syndicate gang, and a few minor characters that I may make up. This story is also rated T for language and violence. I hope you enjoy!
Prologue, Part One: New Beginnings...
Lumiose Station was filled with people and pokémon alike, yelling at each other over the boom of automated voices shouting directions through the intercoms and the roar of the trains as doors whooshed open and passengers filed on and off the platforms, luggage in their hands and a mix of emotion on their faces.
In all his twelve years, Zayn had never seen so many people gathered in one place before; the mesh of different smells and sounds both frightened and confused him. As they stood in line for their own train tickets—behind an obnoxiously loud, plump woman garbed in a floral-printed sun dress and a wide-brimmed straw hat that accentuated the deep red flush in her cheeks as she bickered with the man at the ticket booth over the number of carry-on bags she could depart with—he pressed closer to his mother.
A tall thin woman, Rhodette Harker had a caring soul and a kind face, offering aid to anyone in need of it—an unshakable habit as a volunteer at their hometown's local hot springs, she would jest. They had shared a life together in the quiet community of Lavaridge Town in the Hoenn region with his father, Daric Harker, back when he had been a happy man. But that was a lifetime ago, it seemed. When his mother smiled now, there was a sadness in her eyes that reflected on those days long past.
Daric's sudden departure two years ago still haunted his mother to this day. Zayn, himself, only missed the man Daric had once been in his earlier memories—a caring father and devoted salesman who knew how to laugh and love.
He would have never dared to lay a finger on his family in anger back then, but shortly before his disappearance he had changed. He had become violent, his temper short, and there were many times where he would come home late into the night smelling of alcohol and cheap perfume.
He had hit Zayn's mother on occasion, first when Zayn was away but then even while he was around. It finally took his father to directing his fists of anger towards their son to get Rhodette to fight back.
After threatening to leave him, the beatings stopped. After the beatings disappeared, so shortly did his father.
He had never seen his mother as heartbroken as she had been the day his father walked out, without so much as a word to them. He knew that a part of her had died that day, though admittedly Zayn had felt a pang of guilt as relief to see that man leave filled his young heart. His mother never spoke ill of Daric after that; in fact, she never spoke about him at all.
"Next in line to booth seven!" the ticket clerk boomed over the grumbles and laughter of the crowd, snapping Zayn out of his reverie as his mother placed a hand on his shoulder.
"That's us, dear," Rhodette whispered with a smile as she bent down to pick up her suitcase. Her voice was always little more than a whisper, even when she was upset. In fact, Zayn could not recall a time when she had ever raised her voice to him.
Hesitantly, he wrapped nervous fingers around the strap of his bag and slung it over a shoulder.
It had been over a year since they had left Lavaridge Town, hopping from place to distant place. It was an extended vacation, his mother would say when he asked why they traveled so much, but they never stayed in one place for too long; once, he was able to count the number of hotels they had stayed in on his fingers and his toes, twice. After a few weeks or so they would pick up and leave, moving on to the next town as if searching for something. Or, he dared to think with a shudder, running from something.
As he followed his mother's long strides to the ticket booth at the far end, weaving between throngs of people in an attempt to keep up, a soft whimpering caught his ear. He glanced around, bright blue eyes scanning the crowd for the source of the sound, but saw nothing that would explain what he heard.
Then again—a low, frightened yowl, barely audible over the hustle-and-bustle of the station. Curiosity pulling on him like a puppet's string, Zayn placed his backpack next to his mother and crept slowly back through the crowd.
The sound led him to a row of benches next to the loading dock to the trains, not too far from the ticket line. To be sure, Zayn spared a quick glance over his shoulder—Rhodette was still at the booth, digging through her purse as she laughed over something the man next to her had said. Reassured, Zayn sank to his knees and peered beneath the bench closest to him, taking care not to dirty his jeans in a puddle of sticky brown gunk on the floor.
Cowering in the shadows amidst forgotten snack bags and neglected soda bottles, a pair of wide yellow eyes gazed warily back at him. He recognized them instantly.
"Ooh, a puppy!"
A sense of childlike excitement overcame him, and Zayn soon found himself crawling under the crowded seats toward the pair of eyes, sticky goo be damned. The low whimper ebbed into a sharp growl, but it was more out of fear than a warning, so Zayn pressed on.
A quick yap and a few short barks later, he emerged from the depths of the benches. Bright red scratches lined his arms as he stood slowly to his feet, cradling a tiny ball of fur in the crook of his elbow. It was then that he noticed his mother standing over him, his blue backpack in hand and a glint in her eyes.
"Zayn Darius Harker!" she exclaimed, blinking away what he could only assume to be tears. "What have I told you about wandering off? You can't—!" She cut herself short, pinching the bridge of her nose as she collected her composure. Zayn hugged the squirming black ball close to his body, suddenly feeling very ashamed.
"I can't lose you, sweetie," Rhodette finished, the words catching in her throat.
"Sorry, mom," he apologized, averting his gaze to the bundle in his arms. It had stopped squirming in favor of licking the inside of his elbow, the rough pink tongue tickling his arm.
Rhodette followed her son's gaze, realizing for the first time what her boy was carrying.
"Where did you find that?" Her voice was calm, but held a cautious tone. There was no mistaking the coal black fur; those alert yellow eyes; the metal ridges on its back, head and legs. Though houndour were uncommon even in the Kalos region, they were still known far and wide for their ferocity and temperament.
Zayn could not hide the pride in his voice as he carefully held up the little pup, a grin spreading from ear to ear. It blinked at Rhodette, baring its little fangs to give a sharp yap. "He was calling for help, so I rescued him!"
"It's so tiny," she remarked, reaching out to stroke its head. "He might be the runt of his litter."
The pup growled and nipped at her fingers.
Rhodette glanced from her son to the young houndour, and back again. There was one other person she knew of that was drawn to the dark, fiery types, and he had left her. She could not bear the thought of losing her only son, too.
Before Rhodette could protest, Zayn turned the young houndour around and held him to his face. "I think I'll name you Ghost!" he exclaimed, his eyes full of such excitement that she could only bite her tongue. The pup licked his nose, and that was the end of it. There was nothing she could do to persuade her son otherwise.
For as long as he had been alive, Zayn only remembered having just one pokémon in the family—a feisty crawdaunt, whom his father had taken with him when he left.
He never knew of his mother to have any pokémon, though sometimes he would find her staring at an old photograph she kept in her purse. Sometimes she would smile at the memories that picture held, but mostly she would just sit there and stare, tears pooling beneath her eyes, and he dared not to think of the memories that possessed her thoughts then.
"NOW BOARDING FOR COUMARINE CITY! ALL PASSENGERS, PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO PLATFORM FIVE AND BE READY TO PRESENT YOUR TICKETS!"
Zayn looked up at his mother, hugging the houndour to his chest. He had always wanted a pokémon to call his own, and this chance find was an opportunity from Fate itself—an opportunity he dared not neglect to take.
"Please, mom?" he begged as Rhodette picked up her suitcase. "He needs me! And I'll take real good care of him, promise!"
Rhodette sighed and shook her head. "Zayn," she started, but stopped herself.
Standing there staring at her son, watching as the pup reached up to lick his chin and he chuckling and patting the steel-plated skull on its tiny head, she could not help but be reminded of a little girl from decades ago when she first received her very own pokémon. So long ago, and yet those feelings were still just as strong today…
"Well," she finally spoke up, a smile creeping slowly across her lips as her son's eyes lit up in anticipation. "I suppose having a companion around would do wonders for the both of us. Ghost can travel along with us."
"Yes!"
Handing her son his backpack, Rhodette chuckled and steered them towards platform five. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, after all.
