0. RESTART

Somewhere in the distance, wild Nincada were chirping a shrill midnight chorus. No more than a pair of yellow eyes suspended over a narrow branch, an elderly Hoot-Hoot stared expectantly into the looming darkness that engulfed the forest. With a cock of its head, the small bird flapped its wings and uttered a low, eerie call into the night.

Cast into the murky shadows curled insidiously across the forest floor, the call echoed faintly back, only to be cut in half by a deafening crash, then followed by a barrage of angry shouts. Hooting indignantly, the Hoot-Hoot sprang into the air and sped away, becoming yet another nameless shadow in the black sky.

Back on the ground below, a small runner was tearing its way through the forest underbrush. Its breath came in ragged pants as it raced on, boots scattering a blanket of dry leaves and black dirt into the air.

Twigs and leaves grasped at the runner's hair and clothes, like so many twisting fingers reaching out to ensnare a struggling quarry. Pushing them aside with a gloved hand, the runner stumbled onward, clutching a small bundle to its side.

"We're almost there," the runner whispered soothingly to the bundle resting in the crook of its arm. "Just a little longer…"

The bundle stirred, revealing a sleeping Pikachu snuggled tightly in an old jacket vest. The Pokémon tossed and turned feverishly in its haunted dreams, moaning as its trainer stumbled over fallen branches and rocky ledges.

Now as the trees began to thin out around them, the Pikachu's trainer reached into a pocket. Sweaty fingers closed around their target, and with a flick of a wrist, a PokéBall was spinning through the air, bursting open in a crimson flash of light.

"There he is!" a gruff voice cried as a towering dragon-like Pokémon emerged, navy blue wings almost invisible against the dark sky. With an enormous roar, the Charizard shot a column of fire at the team of people and Pokémon emerging from between the trees. They had only an instant before the blindingly bright flame engulfed their entire line of sight.

Several cried out, but some of the nimbler ones managed to dodge the fiery attack. Behind them, a whole line of bushes sprang into crackling flame.

"He's getting away!" one uniformed man called out, spotting the trainer with the Pikachu hosting himself onto the Charizard's back. A team of Arcanine sprang forward, teeth bared, only to be swatted aside by the Charizard's powerful tail.

"This is your last chance, boy!" the man called out threateningly. "Now be a good little Pokémon trainer and come with us!"

As it looked down from atop the Charizard's long, scaly neck, the trainer's face was briefly illuminated in the flickering light of the fire below. Long matted hair stuck out in unruly directions from underneath a muddy cap. All of the trainer's apparel, in fact, was torn and dirty from days of wandering forests and traveling little-known paths.

The trainer was also no more than fifteen or sixteen years old.

"Scyther!" the man called, releasing a sleek-bodied Pokémon into the air. Wings just a gauzy blur against the sky, the Scyther clacked its claws together menacingly, before hurtling itself towards the Charizard and its young rider.

Bellowing mightily, the Charizard launched itself into the air, away from the snapping jaws of the attacking Arcanine. It let loose several fireballs, all of which missed the nimble Scyther completely.

Countering all of the Charizard's punches with an agile slash of its claws, the Scyther circled once, feinting expertly. Quicker than the eye could follow, it performed a vicious upper cut, causing the young trainer to cry out.

The bundle carrying the sleeping Pikachu was falling, plummeting towards the ground below. The Charizard turned and made a wild lunge, but it was already too late.

"No!" the child cried as the Scyther caught the Pikachu in its glinting claws and buzzed away into the night. "No, we have to go back!"

Remembering the smoke, bared teeth, and shouting men in uniforms, the Charizard shook its mighty head. It would not risk its trainer so rashly.

A strong gust of wind blew the trainer's cap high into the air, along with a sparkling cascade of hot tears. "No!" its owner cried into the night air, reaching a grasping hand into the darkness. "Please, no!"

Watching his Scyther touch agilely back to earth, the uniformed man grabbed the ragged bundle from his Pokémon's claws. He was a young man, not much older than the trainer, really, with dark hair and sharp eyes that swept analytically over the crumpled vest, then its sleeping occupant.

Jumping down from atop the back of her Arcanine, a tall blue-haired woman strode up beside the Scyther's trainer, eyes flashing furiously. "Your Pokémon let him escape!" she growled, staring venomously at the teen, then at the Pikachu. "The League will not be pleased with you."

Her addressee pushed a wisp of hair under his headband and examined the bundle more carefully. Then, with a quick flick of his fingers, he removed a small wallet from the vest's pocket. "He can't get far without this," he said, tossing the wallet to the ground, where it gave a light clink of coins. Digging about again, he produced a bright red object from the other vest pocket and snapped it open with a single hand.

With a blink, the screen of the Pokédex lit up with a colorful photograph. A boy with bright blue eyes and unruly auburn hair smiled exuberantly up at him. At his side sat a bright-eyed Pikachu with a tuft of head fur as unruly as its trainer's hair.

"I belong to Hiroshi 'Richie' Richardson," the Pokédex began in a dull monotone. "Registered trainer number 20154. Richie has collected all eight badges of the Pokémon League and is approved to challenge the League Champion at this time…"

With a crunch of plastic, the Pokédex's voice was cut short. The dark-haired teen let the crushed red pieces fall from his fingers into the dirt. "The boy couldn't have gotten far," he said, looking up into the faces of his comrades. "Send out a flight squad to search the surrounding skies."

Nodding sharply, the blue-haired woman set about doing just that. "You may have a head upon your shoulders after all, young Sketchit," she remarked coolly, climbing onto the back of her Arcanine. "Professor Oak has taught you well."

"As you say, Officer," the youth replied, grinding the shattered pieces of Pokédex into the ground with the sole of his sneaker. "As you say."

Notes: Ugh, it's another one of Erriel's old, embarrassing, but ultimately too long to delete fics. I feel obliged to warn you that this is a rather random amalgam of the anime, game, a bit of the manga, and my own twisted conceptions, mixed-and-matched for no reason other than I felt like it at the time. Like squishing together Richie's Japanese and English names? That makes zero sense now, but whatever. I'll do my best to put what got ganked from where at the end of each chapter, if I can remember.