Author's Note: My first original story. :3 I have an excellent plot for this, so stay tuned! (I sound like a television commercial)

Chapter One

I started my pokemon journey on one of the chilliest days in spring.

After I said goodbye to my mother and the professor, the last familiar faces I would see in a while...I knew something was going to happen soon. Whether it would be good or bad, something was coming... I could feel it. But it didn't matter. I was prepared. Rain, sleet, snow, or hail, I planned on becoming Pokemon Master.

"Ready, Fushi?" I whispered to the pokeball at my waist, which contained a small bulbasaur. "We're going to become the best trainers ever!"

I wanted to release my pokemon to walk beside me – like I had heard a famous trainer had done with his Pikachu – but decided against it. Above me, restless skies threatened to rain down my excitement. I didn't care. Although I'd expected my journey to start in the early morning on a sunny day, my hopes for my dream would never be shattered.

I had been walking for a few minutes before I realized I was clueless as to where I was going. Mentally slapping myself, I pulled out the map and found my first gym.

"Pewter City..." That wasn't far away at all. Our house had practically been right next to the city. I glanced around to find a sign pointing me in the right direction. There was none. No signs, no people, no buildings...no pathway. How exactly was a trainer – or anyone – supposed to find their way?

I sighed and began walking. Though I didn't know where I was headed, I was heading somewhere at least. Along the way, I noticed the darkening sky. Within a few minutes, light rain and a foggy cover surrounded me. Mixing in with the drizzle, various grass and water pokemon could be heard delighting in the shower. I grabbed my pokeball. The rain might have been falling- but my spirit wouldn't.

Just in time too. A figure up ahead was moving along the ground in the fog. I released my pokemon, preparing for my first battle. Fushi glanced up at me curiously.

"Aim a Tackle attack over there," I said, pointing ahead.

Fushi was probably just as confused as I was by the impending fog, but obeyed me anyways. I got a thrill out of watching it follow my command and dash into the blur up ahead. I couldn't see what was happening, but I definitely heard the impact of its skull against the body of the figure in front of me.

"Ow! What the hell?"

It was a male's voice. I quickly called back my pokemon and went ahead into the thick fog. After a few moments of searching, an older boy stood up, carrying what looked like a fainted pokemon in his arms. He rubbed his ribs angrily and glared at me. I wondered why he had been kneeling in the first place.

"What the hell was that for?"

I kept my voice lowered. "Sorry about that. I'm kinda new and thought you were a pokemon..."

"You have no damn excuse! Don't you have a Pokedex?" He huffed. "I swear..."

I took a closer look at the pokemon in his arms. Although the fog was too muggy for complete clarity, I saw that it was an extremely furry – and cute – red puppy pokemon. It looked as though it were having trouble breathing. A few battle scars lined its scruffy face.

"Hey, are you listening?"

"What's wrong with it?" I asked quietly.

"What?"

"Your pokemon..." I reached forward to touch it but he moved aside.

"What's it to you?" He stepped forward as if to hit me. I could now clearly see the anger and frustration in his dark eyes, as well as the fiery red hair that lined his forehead. A dark red hoody covered the majority of his head and most of his face. When he saw me clearly, his eyes widened. "You're a girl."

"Yep," I muttered. Somehow that annoyed me. Why was it that many people always assumed boys to be the icon of pokemon trainers? Girls weren't supposed to be condemned to just pokemon contests.

It was quiet for a while. In the few moments of silence, the drizzle strengthened to a light shower. I kept my hand on my pokeball in case this person tried anything against me, though he didn't seem dangerous at all.

"Anyways."

"Do you know the direction to Pewter City?" I pulled out my map, but it was already too soggy to read. "It's my first gym."

"Back that way. Just keep going straight," he mumbled, glancing behind him. I stared at the pokemon in his arms. Its breathing was ragged and choked. I thought for certain it might die soon. Yet somehow it looked familiar. He rolled his eyes. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. It's just...your pokem-"

"Like I said before, what's it to you?"

He pushed past me in a rush and pattered off into the distance. His soggy footsteps vanished beneath the rain. And yet I felt content.

"Off again, Fushi," I whispered to my pokeball. I wouldn't let a grumpy trainer ruin the day for me. After all, I was just starting out. But oddly, right after meeting him something continued to tug at the back of my mind- I had the feeling we would meet up again.

OoOoOoOoOo

By evening, I had finally arrived in Pewter City. It was much smaller than I had expected, having heard the word city and all. It was more like a small town with a rural setting mixed in. The gym didn't look too impressive either; it had been made completely out of stone and rigid rock. I didn't see any marble, or any kind of material to suggest that it had been made by human hands. A painted wooden sign just above the doorway had the word 'Open' scratched away by what looked like pokemon claws.

I entered the gym calmly. After what I had read about this gym leader – Brock was his name, I remembered – I knew that he used Rock types, most of which were also dual Ground types. My bulbasaur would knock his pokemon into the dust, or at least I hoped. After what I had read about him and saw about him on the news, along with the famous trainer Ash Ketchum, he was much more powerful than he had been about eight years ago. He was twenty five years old now and had to breed new Rock pokemon so that his stronger pokemon wouldn't obliterate the new trainers.

I saw him immediately when I came to the arena border. I'd heard that he used to impress trainers by making the rocky floor come out of the ground on their arrival, but he had grown tired of it. (After years of weak trainer after weak trainer battling you, you would be bored too.)

A girl older than me was already standing in the middle of the arena, holding something like a large pinkish white balloon. Brock looked bored on the other side of the arena.

"You should know better than to use Normal-type attacks against Rock types."

"But Double Slap always worked on the other pokemon!" she cried.

"If you slap a rock with your bare hands, what will be hurt- you or the rock?"

She remained silent.

"Exactly."

The girl turned angrily and stomped out of the arena, shoving past me. I was annoyed at the way everyone was doing that to me. "I'll come back," she muttered indignantly under her breath,"and then you'll see how powerful my jigglypuff is..."

Suddenly my confidence left. If even an older trainer with a rare pokemon couldn't beat Brock, how could I? Not only that, but I could only rely on my bulbasaur since I couldn't find any other pokemon in the fog.

"So I guess you want to battle me too," he said to me tiredly. He seated himself in a chair on his side of the arena and rested his chin on his palm. His yawn permeated what was left of my confidence. I saw that he didn't even bother to heal his pokemon. "This will be a three on three battle. I'm also a referee. Let the battle beg-"

"Wait!" I fingered the pokeball at my waist.

"What?"

"I only have...one pokemon."

"Get out." I was astonished at the blatant remark. "Go get some more pokemon."

"But...the fog..."

"I know a friend," he muttered, "who managed to get pokemon to team up with him without even catching them. You have no excuse."

I was getting tired of people telling me that. First my mother and now these random people.

"I want to battle."

"Fine, whatever." I was surprised at how easily he gave in. "But I'll battle you without going easy. Just start."

"Fushi!"

I sent out my bulbasaur, a little flustered. I would have to give this bored gym leader a battle he would never forget. Although this wasn't a fairy tale world...I was sure I would be able to pull it off. Fushi seemed uncomfortable being in such a dusty, closed-in area without sunlight. Brock tossed an oddly-colored foreign pokeball. A strange rounded pokemon appeared, its entire body covered in a metal armor. Beady dark eyes stared out from a light red interior. I was astonished- I had never seen this pokemon before. Was it even a Rock type?

"I'll prove to you why you need more than one pokemon type." He sighed. "Forretress, Take Down."

The armor pokemon rushed towards me. I knew that Fushi wouldn't survive a single hit by it. Going by the instinct that Forretress must be a Rock type, I used the only grass move my bulbasaur knew. "Vine Whip!"

Fushi lashed out an attack with its vines against the rushing pokemon. Yet no matter how many times it hit, or how hard the vines lashed out, Forretress's metal armor was a strong shield. Fushi was hit dead on by the Take Down attack, and I moved out of the way as it was sent flying into the wall behind me. I had never heard such a bone crushing sound before.

"Battle over."

I had lost within the first turn of the battle. But there was something more important to attend to- I ran over to my pokemon, which was covered in bruises from the deformed rock wall. It might have survived if the wall had been sleeker. I realized then that that had been the reason for the gym's design.

I called my pokemon back. My first pokemon battle...and I'd lost immediately.

Brock sighed. "It was a Steel and Bug type. Grass type moves are weak against Steel types and Bug types, so when you put them both together... Now do you understand?"

I nodded glumly. I didn't know much about Steel types, considering there were almost none in Kanto. In fact, I didn't really know anything about pokemon outside of Kanto. I had let down my bulbasaur already. Why should it trust me anymore after this battle?

"Sorry, Fushi," I whispered to my pokeball. "You don't have to battle again if you don't want to."

"Hey," Brock called. I looked up. "Why didn't you use your Pokedex?"

I slapped myself mentally. Idiot. "Guess I forgot." But it wouldn't have helped. I didn't know anything about Steel type pokemon.

Brock read my mind. "Go get yourself a Fire type and come back. I'll be waiting." He lowered his voice. "...Bored as usual."

I nodded and left the gym quietly, ashamed at my weakness.

OoOoOoOoOo

At the Pokemon Center, I took a seat near the window to stare out into the evening. It was mocking me. Everything was mocking me. Even the pokemon were mocking me. How could a pokemon trainer lose on the first turn of a battle? It was stupid. I had believed in my confidence, believed that I would be able to go far...but my confidence was the reason I had lost. Maybe if I had believed I was weak, unable to even muster a single move, I might have seen myself for who I truly was – a weakling – and defeated Forretress.

I couldn't show my face to the gym anymore, at least not until I became infinitely stronger. But there weren't any Fire pokemon near the area. The closest place that contained them was miles away, too far to even think of going. And not only that, but they were usually in a cave that had to be lit by Electric pokemon, which I also didn't have. There was no way I could defeat Brock. I was useless.

I leaned my face against the cool glass, forcing my tears stay inside. Maybe I was destined to become something other than a trainer.

"Umm."

Something tugged at my shirt. I looked down and saw the face of a little girl staring up at me. Her curious dark blue eyes reminded me of myself when I had been younger. "Umm..."

"What is it?"

"You wanna play?" She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a wrinkled paper with an odd drawing. "Umm...I know Hangman and Tic-Tac-Toe..."

"No thanks."

"But..."

I smiled and patted her black hair. "Sorry. I'm not really in the mood."

"Oh..."

She ran to another person. I smiled and turned back to the window. Come to think of it, I had always dreamed of being a trainer, even as a little girl. Contests had never been as appealing to me. Yet even through all the hard times I'd gone through, I had retained my dream. I'd never given up. Why should I give up now just because I happened to lose one measly battle? And not only that, but why should I give up even if I lost a million battles? Each loss of a battle is a step to getting stronger, whether I felt it or not. And I had even learned something- Steel types are weak against Fire types. And since Bug types are also weak against Fire types, a Fire pokemon would completely destroy Forretress!

My eyes widened at the realization. I actually had a chance.

"Your pokemon is completely healed."

I turned around to see Nurse Joy holding a relaxed bulbasaur, skin looking healthier than I'd ever seen it. Fushi smiled at me gratefully, and somehow all my worries were shattered right there.

"Thanks." I took my pokemon and held it to my chest. I never wanted it to lose again. Even if I ever lost a battle, I wanted another pokemon to lose in its place. Fushi didn't deserve to lose another battle.

"He sure is a kind pokemon," Nurse Joy said, smiling. "Even when I was giving him a shot, he remained completely still. He seemed more worried about my safety with the needle rather than himself!" She patted his head. "You're lucky to have such a kind pokemon as your starter. Be good to him."

I nodded and nuzzled against his cheek. "I never want him to lose again."

"Bulbaaaa!"

"And one last thing," she added. "He doesn't like pokeballs. I'd suggest you let him roam free."

My eyes widened.

oOoOoOoOo

I left the Pokemon Center determined to catch another pokemon. I would have to return there before nightfall, but I had confidence in bulbasaur. We would definitely find another pokemon. Deep inside, I had a feeling we would find more than what we were looking for. Fushi walked happily beside me. I could feel his happiness- he didn't have to communicate it. I thought it was kind of strange how I could sense what he was feeling, but...oh well. Pokemon were mysterious creatures.

The forest we now walked through had been cleared of rain. All that remained were patches of soaked grass where water from the fog had condensed. Fushi delighted in this and rolled around in the undergrowth. I laughed at his playfulness.

"Do you want to train?" I asked him, taking a seat on a stump. Fushi nodded excitedly and bounced to his feet. I looked around for something to hit. I'd seen examples of training on television, especially by the famous Ash Ketchum. He used Frisbees and his pokemon took aim at them. Well...I didn't have Frisbees, but I did have rocks. I snatched a rock from the ground and threw it in the air. "Vine Whip!"

Fushi shot his vines to the rock and knocked it aside. I heard it land far away in the distance. I threw a few more rocks and the same thing happened. However, I didn't feel like we were getting anywhere. Maybe I needed to train a particular aspect. When we battled, our main downfall was strength. If his Vine Whip had been powerful, it would have knocked Forretress to the side. Maybe I could...

I looked around for the strongest tree I could find. When I found one, I pointed Fushi towards it. "Vine Whip that tree until you put a gigantic mark in it!" I paused. "But stop if you get too tired." I had heard of trainers who'd over-worked their pokemon to the point of hatred. When they weren't looking, their pokemon either ran off or beat the crap out of them.

Fushi lashed out against the bark of the tree. At first I thought we were getting somewhere, considering the amount of bark that was flying off. When all the bark was destroyed, however, it was like a never ending battle. Fushi whipped and whipped, but the white part of the tree stayed intact. After a few minutes of constant whipping, I could see the anger and frustration in his eyes. His lashes got stronger, but the tree remained intact. He pushed himself to his limits of strength, but it was useless. And suddenly, I was getting angry. I was angry that no matter how hard he tried, he wasn't strong enough. Now I was frustrated. I wanted to hit the tree as well. I could feel the anger burning beneath my skin. The same determination bulbasaur had was writhing beneath me as well.

I ran over to the tree and slapped it as hard as I could. My hand came back red, but the tree was unharmed. I hit it harder. Nothing happened. Fushi became angrier. I became angrier.

"Stupid freaking tree!" I kicked it this time, but only I was damaged. I was furious now, too furious to think. I walked away from the tree to cool off, motioning for bulbasaur to do the same. My heart was beating fast, and I was sure Fushi's was as well. He had tried so hard...and yet couldn't even put a scratch in it. It was sickening.

Swimming against my anger, I patted Fushi. "You did your best."

"...Saur..."

I reached down to pat him again, but footsteps in the area startled me. A familiar face came pushing out through the trees only seconds later. I knew exactly who it was when I noticed the fiery red hair and dark eyes. He was huffing angrily at the sight of me, his eyes widening at the tree we had stripped clean. His pokemon wasn't in his arms anymore, but I hoped it was okay. After all, it had been sick.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Training..."

"Well keep it down. Some people are heading to bed now."

I glanced up at the evening sky to destroy his statement. "What, like...three?"

His eyes narrowed. "You think you're funny, don't you?"

I didn't answer the question. If starting an argument was his specialty, then ending it would be mine. I smiled politely, against my want. Beside me, Fushi grumbled angrily against my leg.

"Is your pokemon doing okay?"

He was thrown off guard by the question. "...What?"

"The one in your arms before."

He turned his head away. I suddenly noticed how perfect his fiery hair looked underneath an equally fiery sun. "Yeah..."

"What happened to it?"

"Why the hell do you need to know?" His voice cracked. I was astonished at how rude he was. Hadn't his mother taught him manners as a child? He looked away from me again, almost as if pondering something; I began to wonder what had actually happened.

"I was just curious," I said quietly.

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"Stupidity killed the cat. Curiosity was framed."

For just the hint of a second, I saw something like a smile at the corners of his mouth. It disappeared quickly.

"That's stupid."

I was still curious about his pokemon. I don't know why I was so interested. Maybe Fushi had been the one all along who was interested- after all, I was able to somehow know what he was feeling at unusual times. But if Fushi wanted to know, I would gladly find out. I glanced down at my pokemon curiously.

"What pokemon was it?"

"Jeez, are you still trying to find out?" To my surprise, he unclipped a pokeball from his belt. "Take a look, but you better make it quick. I have to go right now.."

I noted that his pokeball had black paint over the top, but I couldn't read what it said. A small red puppy flashed into view. It looked healthy, but...it didn't seem happy. I had seen this pokemon before, but couldn't remember its name. Black stripes along its back, scruffy white fur characterizing the top of its head and its tail... I suddenly remembered what Brock had told me and pulled out my Pokedex.

"It's a growlithe," he told me before I could press the button. "Fire type, lives in grassy areas, has one kick ass evolution."

"Fire!" I exclaimed happily. At his confused silence, I explained. "I've been looking for a Fire pokemon."

"So now you see one. Congratulations," he answered blankly. He looked up at the sky, that same pondering look that I'd seen before now on his face. The sky was changing to a dark velvet blue, signaling the coming of night fall. He seemed nervous by this, as did his growlithe. Clenching his teeth, he kicked against the ground. "Shit."

I was a little disturbed by his language, but didn't bother correcting him. "What's wrong?"

He seemed startled by my voice, like he'd forgotten I had been standing there. "Why do you ask so many questions?" He called his growlithe back and looked around quickly. "I have to go. I really don't have much time now."

Knowing it was pointless to question him further, I went back to my original want. "Well before you go, could you tell me where to find a Fire pokemon?"

He seemed like he was panicking now, though I didn't know why. I noticed that it had been later than I'd thought. The sky was changing rapidly now, like it usually does around six or seven in the evening. He seemed to be looking for something, but as time passed and he failed to find it, I knew something was wrong.

Finally, he seemed to find what he was looking for. Before I could question him further, he ran off in that direction. I noticed that something had fallen from him to the ground. Upon closer inspection, my eyes widened. It was his pokeball; the one with the black markings. Along with my excitement that I'd finally gotten a Fire pokemon, I was more afraid that I would be murdered for my stalling him and making him accidentally drop his pokeball.

"Heeey!" I shouted into the distance. "You dropped your pokeball!"

Silence.

I walked over to the fallen orb and collected it. It would be better to keep it than to let the wild pokemon devour it, especially since I would probably see him again.

Oh, how right I was.

OoOoOoOoO

Hope you liked it so far. I have an awesome plot coming up. x3 And no, not the whole overused, "Little kid saves the entire world" cliche.