A/N: Hello, guys (or girls to be more specific) and welcome to the first chapter of "How to Train Your Hetamon!" For those of you who aren't familiar with pokémon, that's a-okay! I'll try to explain everything through this first chapter! Thank you!

Warnings: OC, mild cursing, mild yaoi later on, slight OC X OC later on, some crack pairings, some popular pairings (GerIta, FrUK, USUK, etc.) , fourth wall breaking, and whatever may come next.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Pokémon or even the cover picture.

How to Train Your Hetamon

By Illusion Fox

Chapter 1

.:Intro:.

In this world, there are a variety of species that we call Hetamon. Hetamon are a type of species that have different strengths. We often categorize them into seventeen groups according to their power: Normal, Fire, Water, Grass, Electric, Ice, Fighting, Poison, Ground, Flying, Psychic, Bug, Rock, Ghost, Dragon, Dark, and Steel. Hetamon come in all different shapes and sizes, with unique looks, abilities, and specialties. Humans and Hetamon work together to create a better, happier place for everyone. Many jobs these days often revolve around Hetamon. Some children often pursue a journey in order to understand the world before them, so they know what they truly want to do in life. They create goals like becoming a Hetamon Champion so they have something to strive for.

Many children these days want to become a Hetamon Champion. They are given one Hetamon as a starter, and then continue their journey by training their Hetamon and catching more by using Hetaballs. (Hahaha, balls.) Each trainer can have up to six Hetamon travelling with them, and you can have no more than that. In order to become a Hetamon Champion, you must win eight badges from eight gyms that are scattered throughout the region, Suetopia. To win a badge, you must go through a Hetamon battle against the gym leader, where trainers send out their Hetamon to fight.

Despite our efforts to work together, there are some people who want to use Hetamon as tools. Often, they rise up together in organization with a retarded name and queer costumes. Because of the numerous amounts of these organizations, the required age to start a journey must be at least fifteen. Most people don't go on journeys anymore because of these organizations; people say that they will scar your mind in more ways than one. I still haven't quite figured out what they mean by that, but I'm not sure whether or not I want to know myself.

What I do know is this: One Organization, Team Sparkle (I mean really, who's the idiot who chooses these names?!), plan to steal the ultimate Hetamon and use its strength to rule the world. They plan to take the legendary Hetamon, Pangaea.

.:End Intro:.

"COREY! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE! WE'RE GONNA BE LATE!"

I choked on the cereal I was eating, spitting it out all over my wooden table. Little bits of Frosted Flakes and milk were splattered all over my shirt, and I cursed as knuckles rapped against the wooden door. Just to annoy the person outside, I slowly walked towards the kitchen to place my bowl of cereal into the sink. I dragged my feet over the cheap, grey carpet, gently setting the bowl into the steel sink.

"COREY!"

I sighed and walked to my room. Changing out of my ruined shirt, I changed into a turquoise t-shirt and a dark green hoodie, which fitted with my regular blue jeans. Then again, everything looks well with jeans. I combed through my bristled, short, brown hair. It was styled in a boyish pixie cut, and it was too short to decorate it with ribbons or anything else. I slipped on some socks and put on my sneakers. I took another glance at my vanity mirror; a flat-chested, straight-figured, short-haired girl with blue eyes and freckles dotted on her cheeks and nose stared back with a thin frown. I scowled back at her before sticking my tongue out.

My small bedroom was as messy as ever; dirty clothes lazily were scattered across the floor, and my desk was cluttered with items and souvenirs. My light blue bed wasn't made like it usually was, and books were everywhere. My beige messenger bag stood out from the messy background because of its new and high-quality state, where as everything was either broken or worn out. I grabbed the bag before filing through it. Trainer Card? Check. Hetaballs? Check. Extra Clothes? Check. Medicine? Check. I continued down the long list of my necessities, and then finally left the room with a small click of the door closing.

Quietly, I gently opened the door to my parents' bedroom. The tidy room was pure white, except for the brown tufts of hair peeping out of the white covers. The two were sleeping peacefully, just as I expected. Before going on my journey, I wanted them to at least say goodbye. Maybe just give me a warm hug before I left. . . Or at least a pat on the back. But, I knew that such ideas wouldn't happen. They needed to work to continue living here. They needed money. The only jobs they had were during the night, so they had to sleep during the day. I couldn't wake them just so I can say goodbye. A second wasted could have been a second of pure, blissful slumber. Quietly, a tiptoed in their room, rummaging in my bag for the note that I wrote last night for them. I knew that it would come to this, and my goodbyes would be written clearly in black and white. I placed the note on the nightstand next to their bed before silently walking out.

By now, I was afraid the door was going to break. The person behind it was sure making a big fuss—

"COREY ADAMS, OPEN THIS DOOR BEFORE I BREAK IT!"

I sprinted towards the door, opening it up while panting. A short girl with unusually long golden hair that fell to her waist stood there, her big, doe-like brown eyes sparkling. She showed no signs that she was literally breaking the door down, or that she was screaming her head off. Her pink, frilly short dress was filled with sparkles, and her pale skin looked flawless (like always). As usual, she looked like a freaking ten-year-old instead of a fifteen-year-old. Scarily enough, she had a sweet, childish smile on her face.

"Silly Corey-chan," she giggled, acting as if nothing happened. "You're going to be late to get your Hetamon~! I already got mine, and he's so kawaii! You're gonna be stuck with something weird! Teehee~!" She grabbed my wrist and dragged me off to the Hetamon Research Lab, guiding me as if I was the child here.

"See? Pretty much everyone has their Hetamon!" gushed the girl, pointing at a bunch of people. As for me, I couldn't understand any of it. There were only people in front of the laboratory, not monsters or anything out of the ordinary. However, half of these people looked very similar to one another. . . I've never seen a Hetamon before, and I only read what I could from books. I was expecting some sort of mutant animal that could kill you just by sneezing.

"Um, thanks Angel," I said, addressing the girl. The blonde only nodded before waltzing away in the crowd of people. Strange girl.

Pushing myself through everyone, I finally got to the front entrance of the building. I pulled open the door, the strong scent of Febreeze in the air. There were many other researches in the house, but they didn't pay attention to me. Apparently, the DNA of a Hetamon is more interesting than me, but then again, I would choose the DNA, too. I spied around for a while, until I met the gaze of the head honcho here. He was an old man with a wrinkled face, hunched over by two red-and-white balls (WILL YOU STOP LAUGHING?!). A boy my age was in front of him, holding a bottle of Febreeze in his hand. He sprayed it before taking in a long, slow whiff of it, and then he reached his hand for one of the Hetaballs.

I walked up towards them, expecting the old man to whisk me in, telling me a five-hour speech about Hetamon.

He didn't.

However, the orange-haired boy was staring at me with his jaw agape. His green eyes bugged out of his eye sockets, and I was slightly afraid that they would just blow up like in one of those freaky cartoons that Angel showed me. His pale face flushed a dark red before rushing off, bumping me in the way as he clenched the Hetaball in his hand.

Giving a glare at the boy as he rushed out, I walked up to the old man, his grey eyes staring at the lone Hetaball with a hazed expression.

"Um, I'm Corey Adams. Can I have a Hetamon?" I asked, but the guy wouldn't budge. I poked him. He didn't even flinch. I continued poking him until I got to the point where I was practically jabbing him with my index finger. Finally, the old man looked up and pointed to the Hetaball.

"I used have two balls," he said stoically. "Then that gay boy took one of them."

That gay boy . . . ? The orange-haired kid? Makes sense enough. After all, he probably thought I was a dude.

"You're going to take my ball, too, huh? Then I won't have any more balls!"

I stared at the so-called professor. Was he . . . ? W-was he saying what I think he was saying . . . ?

"You are going to take my ball, aren't you?" he asked, stepping closer to me. I stepped back. "Then I'll have no balls! No more balls for Professor Pine! No more balls!"

He was just about to touch me when a different researcher stepped in. He looked at least twenty, but still very good-looking in that lanky, nerdy way. He pushed the grey-eyed professor away, and then walked back to me with a kind face. He, like the boy I had just saw, had bright green eyes and orange hair.

"I'm so sorry," he explained. "My grandfather is sort of losing his marbles. . ."

"And apparently he's losing his balls, too," I thought.

"Anyway, I'm the main professor here, or, in other words, 'that guy who gives a Hetamon for free,'" he said happily, extending his hand towards me. I shook it in return. "My name is Professor Pine, like my grandfather. What's your name?"

"Corey Adams," I answered, wiping my already sweaty hand on my jeans.

"A great name for a boy like you," he said cheerfully, and I frowned.

"I'm a girl," I corrected him bluntly, and he deadpanned.

. . . Insert awkward silence here . . .

"Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to offend you in anyway, Corey, it's just that you know, and, and, and," the professor babbled, and I sweatdropped.

"I'm used to it," I sighed. "Can I just have the freaking Hetamon?"

"Why, yes, of course!" he said, and then picked up the last ball. "Here's your Hetaball, miss. You're lucky to get the last one."

I grabbed the Hetaball from his hand, feeling its smooth surface. How was I supposed to send it out? Hell, how does a flipping monster get into a small thing like this? I shook it, holding it against my ear to listen to any rattling. There was nothing. The ball was empty. Was he trying to pull a fast one on me?

"Don't worry, all you have to do is throw it in the air and a Hetamon pops out. Isn't it magical?" he asked, talking to me like I was a child. That baby crap may have worked on Angel, but not on me. Whoever made this whole thing up must have been really bad at explaining things, cuz a Hetamon "magically" popping out of some ball is totally cliché. They should be feel so guilty.

"Sure," I answered him, and he smiled broadly. "I also have a request for you," he said, and took out a small machine that reminded me of a cell phone. "This is called a hetadex. It's like Wikipedia, but for Hetamon! The only problem is that it doesn't have any info on it. So, you know what you have to do? Can you go across Suetopia, finding each and every Hetamon! Your hetadex automatically saves the data whenever you see one! So, can you help me out?"

You know, I sort of find it weird that he's asking me this. After all, I'm the last kid who asked for a Hetamon. Don't you think he'd ask, like, the first person who stepped in here? This guy must be a load of lazy crap if he can't go on his own damn journey. He should be ashamed that he's burdening a girl who's cursed to look like a boy—

"Okay," I said like the total idiot I was, and Professor Pine happily gave me the light blue hetadex. He told me how incredibly thankful he was, and told me the "dangers" of Hetamon. "Whatever you do," he said, staring at me straight in the eye, "do not fall in love with a Hetamon." I nodded, not understanding the meaning behind his sentence. Hetamon were monsters with special abilities, right?

. . . Right?

"Whenever a Hetamon is near, the hetadex will blink and make a noise," Professor Pine said, pointing at a small light bulb in the right-hand corner of the machine. "That way, you won't mistake the wild Hetamon for a person." He handed me the hetadex, and I automatically dropped it in my bag.

Mistake a Hetamon for . . . a person?

"Anyway, that's all I can tell you," Professor Pine said. "Have fun on your adventure!" He dragged me out of the laboratory with a cheery smile while I still held the Hetaball in my hand. The orange-haired fellow slammed the door shut before locking the door.

Blinking, I began to come back to my normal senses. As I would have guessed, all of the fifteen-year-olds were gone, already out on their journey. My feet felt like lead despite the fact that I was free now, able to go wherever I please. Did I really want to leave with my Hetamon? In fact, was I ready to leave? There's still so much I don't know in this big, scary world. It was too big for me to just roam by myself. . . I stared at the Hetaball with worried eyes. I didn't even know what kind of Hetamon it was. Hopefully it was a Germany. I read that they're really strong and obedient, but I'd be happy with even a Spain.

"Maybe this won't be so bad," I thought naively as I made way to Route 1, where my adventure will begin. I clenched the ball in my hand before praying to Pangaea above to give me a strong pokémon so I can become a champion. I threw the Hetaball high in the air, watching it as it opened up with a flashing red light.

The light manifested together, creating an auburn-haired man with closed eyes and goofy smile. A curl stood on the left side of his head, and he wore a blue military uniform with a black shirt underneath that and black boots. He was a lot taller than me, but he held a sort of childish vibe.

"Ve~!" he chirped, and I deadpanned.

This . . .

This is my worst nightmare. . .

I'm going to. . . I'm going to go on. . . I'm going to go on a journey. . .

With. . .

With . . .

An . . .

. . .

ITALY?!

A/N: Don't worry, there shall be more! We'll see why Corey doesn't like Italy, and what he's going to do about it.

Corey: IMMA GIRL, DAMMIT!

IF: S-sorry, maybe you should grow your hair a bit longer. . .

Corey: No, it gets in the way!

IF: -.- I was only trying to help. Anyway, review, favorite, follow, or do whatever! Tell me what you think!