A normal life. Catching Pokemon, battling his friends, challenging gym leaders, and making his name known throughout Unova. That was all Flare wanted.

If you were being technical, he'd accomplished one of those goals. Everyone in Unova, or at the very least, everyone in Accumula Town, had heard of Flare. Although it's not uncommon to be raised as a trainer, it's uncommon to be forced into training one type of Pokemon.

Sure, there were trainers who adored certain types, and adhered to one type like a religion, but few had their birth name decide that type. Even the gym leaders would often use nicknames relating to their types, or in rare cases, some would change their names to match their theme. None were born with their Pokemon teams in mind.

Regardless of this, Flare's name meant he was shoehorned into being a fire type trainer. Training from birth, at the age of 18, he finally set off to conquer the league challenge, and to defeat true evil with the help of the legendary dragon, Reshiram.

Except that isn't quite what happened. In fact, that isn't what happened at all. Maybe it would be better to start at the beginning...

The bright light was a rude awakening. If you asked Flare, he'd swear up and down that his father had designed the room exclusively to annoy him. The walls were painted with legendary fire type Pokemon, and his lone window had various stickers adorning it, ranging from pictures of Flint, his father's favorite Elite Four member, to stickers that simply stated a fact, "Fire is hot!" With the light installation being brighter than the sun itself, and the door having no lock, Flare could find nothing positive about his abode, save for the lavish furniture. However, his disdain for the room was quickly pushed aside by the sudden impact to his chest. Although Flare hoped it was his partner giving him a morning jumpstart, his inspection revealed it to be a backpack.

"Uh...I did wake up, right?"

"Yes Flare, you woke up. You woke up to the greatest day of your life!"

"Is it the day you finally stop asking me to beg Professor Juniper for a Tepig, or the day my father stops breaking into my room?"

"Son, it isn't breaking in if the door isn't locked. As for the answer, today is the day you leave for your journey to become the strongest fire type trainer in Unova, accompanied by your starter Pokemon, Tepig, with gear so lovingly packed by your father, and enough pokeballs to catch every fire type between here and Twist Mountain."

It was here, among his father's poor impression of an audience cheering, that Flare realised his day was going south rapidly. His only hope was to talk his way out of this predicament.

"That sounds great, but, I don't have a trainer's license, nor do I have a Tepig."

"Ah, but that is where you are wrong. Behold, exhibit A: your trainer's license, already registered and and signed, and exhibit B: a mysterious pokeball, containing a pokemon from Professor Juniper."

It was here that Flare realised his day had already gone south.

"Dad, have you considered that you may be a little too obsessed with fire types? Like, obsessed to the point of forcing your son to become a fire type trainer against his will?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"Just wondering. So, I don't suppose I have a choice in this matter?"

"You have a choice. Become a trainer, or pay the rent some other way."

"Rent? Although I fear the answer, I'm curious to know how much this rent is."

"7,000,000."

"Every month?"

"Every week."

"Give me five minutes to pack my personal belongings, then we'll part ways out front."

"I knew you'd see my point, son. I'll tell your mother you were happy to accept."

With that last lie, Flare's father left the room, giving Flare his chance. Wasting no time, he went to his dresser, pulling out the bottom drawer. He dug through the clothes, noting that his favorite shirts had been removed from the top, leaving only his old shirts in the drawer.

Flare couldn't have asked for a better outcome.

Reaching towards the back, Flare grabbed a loose screw, and pulled it to the right, revealing his goal.

A single premier ball, polished and clean, sat in the back of the drawer. Reaching in, Flare took the ball, handling it with the same care one would handle a baby. Inside the ball was his partner he'd kept hidden for the past two years.

Today, he and his partner would finally start their adventure.

Moments later, Flare stood with his parents in the front of his home. Although his home was somewhere he'd tried to avoid, Flare couldn't help but feel sad about leaving.

If only that feeling applied to his parents. His mother held a look of indifference, although Flare attributed that to their shared morning experience, judging by his mother still wearing her pajamas. Meanwhile, his father held an excited expression. An outsider would have likely believed that his father was adventuring long before they would believe that Flare was. Nevertheless, the truth was that Flare was leaving, and he was leaving soon.

"Remember son, you can't become the best fire type trainer and defeat the champion without catching a whole lot of fire types, so make sure you catch 'em all!"

"Thanks Dad."

"Well son, good luck, have fun, and make sure to call."

"I will mom."

"Honey, don't you have something you wanted to tell Flare before he left?"

"Hmm...I mentioned his goals."

"Your goals."

"I mentioned his dreams."

"Aren't those the same thing, dad?"

"Oh! Right. Son, just remember the most important rule. Use protection."

"What the... I'm... I'm just gonna leave. See ya later. I'll... I'll make sure to listen, I guess?"

Taking this awkward exchange as a good sign, Flare quickly left the premises, waving goodby as he walked away.

"Honey, wasn't that a bit of weird advice to give to your son for his journey?"

Flare's father seemed surprised at this statement.

"What? Protect is an excellent move to use in a tough battle. It's saved many of the best trainers from a crushing defeat."

"Honey...maybe you should take up a hobby..."

After ensuring he was far from his home, Flare dug into his pack, taking the premier ball from within. After a quick examination, Flare released his partner from his spherical home. After a few moments, a small rodent, with brown fur, stood in front of Flare.

"Well Hunter, ready to start our adventure?"

Although Flare couldn't understand, it was clear that his partner's loud, "Patrat!" was a sign of agreement. Starting down the road, Flare believed that maybe, just maybe, his adventure could still be normal.