A/N:

This story is a 'pokemon emerald' story, and as such, if you don't like it, don't read it. Yes, there's someone from 'the real world' sent to the pokemon world, and yes, he has played the game. Will I be changing a few things? Maybe. I don't want to deal with any flames, so I'm stating it now. Especially since Stupid1058 will be used to put out any fires.

Stupid1058: Uhm... please... no flames?

Sandstone: (Glares at Stupid1058 for a moment) Anyway, besides that, welcome, and review if you have any comments. I don't mind critics, so long as they offer something of value.

"Normal Speech"

'Telepathy' or thoughts. It'll be easy enough to tell the difference, and frankly, I'm not going to start cursing a blue streak to get the italics to work, since they don't carry over for some asinine reason.

Wish Granted:

'Each being is unique, right? They say that all the time… every living being is unique, in some way, different from everyone else of their species. I suppose it's true enough… not that it matters here, anyway….'

The teenager, still thinking, absently ducked a thrown softball with a skill that suggested he'd been dealing with the issue for years. A baseball was thrown in return, and he merely pressed himself to the wall to evade the harder object, wincing slightly as it cracked hard into the tiles downstairs.

The sources of the commotion, two sisters, continued to throw easily-found objects at each other, while the brown haired and brown eyed teen ducked into his room, and shut the door, just as a splash (as well as shattering glass, they'd progressed to breakable objects) was heard. He was best described as hard to describe, he was apparently sixteen, had a thin pair of glasses that made him look… odd, as well as a shirt with the comment of 'I don't live in your world, so don't try to make me care' on it (it was an annoyingly bright orange as well). He also wore black baggy pants festooned with pockets that made his legs look massive. Completing his strange look was teenaged fuzz that was patchy, and made him look somewhat stupid, while his hair was short-cut enough that it stuck up in practically every direction, though it was probably an inch long.

He plopped down onto a bedspread that was grey in color. The room was plainly painted in a deep blue – there was a few old movie posters, a poster that listed various statistics of ships from the Star Wars universe, and hanging by his bed, a smaller 'poster' that featured Kyogre, Groudon, and Rayquaza facing off against each other, each glowing their signature color.

Almost lazily, he reached between the bed and the wall, and pulled out a battered-looking Game Boy Advance, then tossed it on the bed, reaching for something else, and blindly plugging it into the wall outlet, then making sure the Game Boy was connected to the adaptor. Once he was satisfied, he turned it on and stretched out on his back, holding the Game Boy somewhat above him, while he skipped scenes, instead loading his game data.

His expression shifted from boredom and a rather blank look to a bit of surprise, with one lifted eyebrow, as he realized his character wasn't where he'd last saved at. He mouthed silently, "Strange… those two don't play this game, it's too kidlike for them…"

He held the game boy with one hand, using the paddle with just his thumb, while he looked around for the remote to his stereo system, probably the most expensive thing in his room. He finally found the thing sitting on his desk (again, odd, it was usually somewhere else), and turned on the CD player, a song from .Hack/Sign playing softly, before he turned back to the game.

His character had exclamation marks over his head, like he'd been challenged to a battle or something. He pressed 'A', but rather than the usual 'battle' phase-in, it instead switched to a cutscene. Jirachi, of all pokemon, slowly descended downward, then opened its two normal eyes, and smiled faintly, though something seemed a bit… wrong with the smile.

Then the battle phase-in finally went, and he was faced with a level one hundred Jirachi. He merely shrugged – his own team was level one hundred as well, and he had the two legendary pokemon Kyogre and Groudon… one level one hundred really didn't have much of a hope against his balanced team (not that he wanted to KO it, he just wanted to catch it). His Blaziken was first up, but just as it popped out, the words blurred, and became unreadable. They finally settled again, but rather than the typical 'Blaze, Go!', the words read 'Though it threatens the balance of two worlds… so it was wished, so it shall be done…' Jirachi, on the game, made a wish attack, and the screen went black.

The music of Obsession, .Hack/Sign's introduction song continued to play, while the teen looked curiously at the game, ignoring the blue powder that was accumulating in his room. Finally, he sneezed, and then his eyes, heavy for some reason, shut.

The screen flickered on again, and Jirachi was shown up in a full-close up, its face rather sad-looking. 'You can never come back… our world will be your home now' were the words that appeared underneath, in the text, while its mouth moved, lip-synching the words, though no sound was made.

The teenager disappeared, and the displaced air ruffled some papers that were lying about the room. One fluttered onto the bed, and sat there, face up. It was an old school paper, just a stray math assignment he hadn't thrown out.

The name listed was David Groch… but that slowly faded away. Instead, the name Brendan replaced it.

&&&&&

Dave slowly started to awaken. He looked around in confusion – off in the distance, he could see the signs of a town, but he was in a deep pile of grass. It was dark out, but a full moon and a sky full of stars made it bright enough for him to see, he'd always had rather good night vision, even if he lived in a suburb. He started to reach for his glasses, then realized they were already on his face, and sighed, muttering. But when he tried to look outward, his right eye only got a horrible blur, so he took them off, only to see normally, even when he shut his left eye (his eyes were odd, he was farsighted and had a stigmatism in his right eye, but his left was only slightly nearsighted). 'Strange' he thought, as he pocketed his glasses instead, keeping them just in case.

He started to get up, when a growling made him turn slowly toward the sound, then gulp, staring in shock. Its hackles up, a black and red puppy was glaring at him, even though it was favoring one paw, and bleeding from an ear. Dave, being something others called a 'bleeding heart' sometimes, returned the glare with unblinking eyes, even though they were heavily lidded, and Sleep Powder still occasionally drifted off his eyelashes and eyebrows. He'd learned one thing about canines – you showed you were boss first, and they didn't try to bite you. Of course, it might lead to a 'challenge' of a physical fight, but he had weight and size advantage, thankfully, so it wasn't likely.

The Houndour tried to sustain the glaring contest, but then yelped as it tried to put weight on its injured paw, and collapsed. Dave walked closer to it. The Houndour made to bite him, but before it could blink, his hand was holding its mouth shut firmly. Dave merely smiled, having a moronic puppy did have some advantages – he'd gotten a lot faster at that trick. He again met the puppy-like pokemon's eyes, though this time they were looking a lot less confident, and far more worried. Even though Houndour could use fire attacks, they still needed to use their mouths to launch the flame, and it could not open its mouth. Finally, Dave loosened his grip, and looked over the pokemon for the first time, actually realizing what it was. "Houndour? Well, this is interesting… what the hell was that 'so it was wished, so it will be done' crap about… this? Weird…" To be honest, he was having a lot of inner turmoil, but then mentally said 'screw it, it's not like I actually liked home that much… please don't let this be a dream…'

The young Houndour tried to growl, but Dave merely gave it a gaze, his dark brown eyes becoming black. It wasn't a threatening glare, more like a 'do you really want to piss someone off, who happens to be far larger than you' look. The youngster instead settled for whimpering, until Dave loosened up again, though he still held the jaw with enough force to keep it closed, the young Houndour could breathe easier. Dave asked softly, "Why are you growling at me? I didn't attack you, I was asleep… hell, I shouldn't even be here, no matter how much I wanted to be… did some pokemon trainer attack you?"

The Houndour whimpered in response, shuddering. Dave, understanding what it meant, used his free left hand to cautiously probe the favored paw. "Feels ok, though I'm no vet, and your ear will be ragged, but that's not as big of a deal…" He trailed off, then said thoughtfully, "I can't trust that. Best find you a center to be healed, I can claim you are my pokemon, then release you when you're healed. That sound good?"

The Houndour made a derisive noise through its nose, and Dave snorted in response. "Please. I'm sixteen, not a ten year old. I have no reason to lie, and I don't have any pokeballs. Once you are healed, all I can do is hold your mouth shut so you don't turn me into a barbecue, assuming you don't know Faint Attack."

The Houndour remained silent, then slowly bobbed its head. Dave held it easy within his arms, and released its muzzle, asking, "Before I forget, are you a guy or girl? I never could tell, and it would be impolite to check like that…"

The Houndour looked up to him, a strange expression on its face, before it shook its head, then nodded. "Female?"

"Dour." – an affirmative. Dave just slightly smiled, then walked toward the settlement, the Houndour still occasionally wriggling in his arms, trying to get comfortable.