In Vermilion City, the Pokémon Fan Club Chairman gives Red a voucher for a bicycle – which gives Red another excuse to spend the next few days travelling between Cerulean and Vermilion.
His last excuse was that the Vermilion City Pokémart was out of Pokéballs, (never mind that their new shipment was scheduled to come in the very next day).
The last time they had met, Misty had taken him swimming at the Cerulean Cape. The waters there were rough, and they had to jump a couple of fences and ignore a couple of warning signs to get to the coast. Misty was a much better swimmer than he was, and she had her Starmie swim after him, to make sure he didn't get pulled under by the currents.
In the end they only stayed in the water for a half an hour, before the waves got too high and the tides too strong.
"I love the sunsets out here," Misty had said, sitting with her feet dipped in the surf, wrapped in a red beach towel, and gazing out over the horizon.
Red had agreed with an enthusiastic nod.
Pikachu and Bulbasaur were in the middle of a game with Staryu, but Red was willing to bet that they would have agreed too.
That was last time.
This time Red shows up at Misty's gym, just as she's finishing off putting some challenger in their place. Her Starmie hits her opponent's Nidoran with a spray of bubbles and that's the end of it.
Red wheels his brand new bicycle by on the side of the pool, and walks up to Misty, grinning expectantly.
"Oh, that's beautiful," Misty says, ignoring the whines of the recently defeated trainer, and admiring the bike's shiny red frame. "For me?" she says, laughing, so that Red knows she's only teasing.
They go mountain biking on Mt Moon the next day. It's a sunny Saturday afternoon and the roads are just difficult enough to traverse to make it interesting. Misty flashes a dozen or so photos of passing Clefairy, along with a couple of pictures of Red's Pikachu stuffing its mouth with berries. They pack vege sandwiches and Pokésnacks for a picnic once they reach the summit, and Misty talks about the difficulties of running a gym and how proud she is of her trainees. Misty's bike is a worn pale blue model, and she and Red decide to try out each other's bikes on the way back down.
Then Red crashes Misty's bike into two trees and a ditch. One of the wheels gets knocked out of place, the chain snaps, and Pikachu startles badly enough to release a Thunderbolt into the air, and now Red really does have to give Misty his bike.
Or Misty tells him he doesn't, but Red insists. He feels bad about ruining her bike. And he's grateful that she doesn't make fun of him when he climbs out of the ditch, trying not to look as embarrassed as he feels.
He's grateful she's willing to hang out around him at all, really.
Everything is going well by Red's measurements, until they're almost at the bottom of the mountain.
Misty's walking next to him, steering her new bike down the hill, when Red's Bulbasaur runs ahead to take care of a couple of wild Geodudes that have blocked their path. Bulbasaur's vines quickly dispatch the foe, but then he starts to glow iridescently.
"Whoa," Misty says, propping the bike up by its kickstand and running up to see what's happening.
Bulbasaur's entire body grows larger and more sturdy, his leaves are growing longer, and the bulb on his back opens up to reveal a beautiful pink bud.
Red's Pokedex rings in response, and he digs through his bag and flips it open.
"Ivysaur - The Seed Pokémon. There is a bud on this Pokémon's back. If it starts spending more time lying in the sunlight, it is said the bud will soon bloom into a large flower."
"Wow, an Ivysaur," Misty says, simultaneously. She squats down and reaches forward, and Ivysaur rubs his cheek lovingly against her hand. "I feel like I got to see something really special."
Red beams and walks forward to pet his Pokémon on the head, too. Bulbasaur had been with him from the very start, and now…
Ivysaur looks up at him proudly.
"Your Pokémon just get stronger and stronger, don't they?" Misty says.
Red looks down bashfully.
"Hey, have you challenged Lieutenant Surge over in Vermilion yet?"
Red's eyes widen, where they're fixed on the ground. He shakes his head.
"Huh? Why not?" Misty asks.
Red flinches, he pulls out Bulba- Ivysaur's Pokeball and recalls his Pokémon.
Ivysaur seems startled as he's pulled suddenly away from Misty's hand.
Pikachu jumps forward and up onto Red's shoulder.
Misty stands.
"I mean, I knew you had travelled between here and Vermilion a couple of times, and I was kind of surprised you hadn't moved on to Celadon, yet."
Red shifts uncomfortably and pulls on the brim of his hat.
"You're just such a talented trainer and, well, you never said so, but I thought it was your dream to become Pokémon League Champion. Maybe, I just assumed, but… I really believe in you."
Red looks sideways at the ground.
Misty believed in him, but it that was someone else's dream, wasn't it? Red was just chasing after, wasn't he? Because he loved Pokémon, and Professor Oak had given him a Pokédex, and it seemed like an okay idea, and it wasn't like there was anything for him in Pallet town, was there? Not anymore. Was there ever?
What was Red's dream?
"Hey," Misty says, punching him encouragingly on the arm, "say something, okay? It's fine if you don't say it completely correct. Just say it." Misty smiles. "I didn't mean to be harsh, or to force you into anything. I- I just don't want to be the one that stops you from following your dreams. I'm your fan all the way!"
Misty waves her arms, swinging imaginary pom-poms for his benefit.
"Becoming champion is your dream, right? You can tell me?"
No. Red can't tell her. Red can't say anything.
But he nods his head. He doesn't want to disappoint her.
He doesn't want her to see he's weak.
Misty's smile turns equal parts joyous and sad.
"Okay," she says quietly.
They walk the rest of the way in silence, the city lights growing closer and closer, and brighter and brighter as night approaches.
When they reach the city border they part ways.
Misty mounts her bicycle and turns back to him.
"Listen," she says, "if you're ever in town again. Just…"
She reaches into her backpack and pulls out a pad of notepaper, and scribbles down a phone number.
"I know you don't have a phone, but you can always use the public ones at the Pokémon Center. Even if you're not in town. If you just want to talk…" she says, ripping out the sheet of notepaper and handing it to him. "We're friends, right?"
Red accepts the phone number, but he's too afraid to nod.
Which is fine, because Misty's too afraid to wait for his answer. She turns away and pedals the red bicycle off into the lamp-lit streets, until Red can't see her anymore.
.
.
Misty hadn't been a distraction, per se, but she had distracted him.
Without Misty around, travelling through the underground path on the way to Vermilion, Red remembers things differently.
Red had gone swimming with Misty off of Cerulean Cape.
And while he was there, hadn't he thought that it would be awfully nice if that other gym leader, Brock, was there with them?
And hadn't he also wished that Green was there too?
And wasn't it the same when Red had gone mountain biking with Misty? Hadn't Red thought, it would be really nice if his other friends were there?
Wouldn't it be nice if Red had friends?
Green would have challenged him to a bicycle race. And laughed proudly when Red lost. But he would have waited for Red at the finish line anyhow, smiling the whole time.
Wouldn't he?
Red can't remember.
(There's nothing to remember.)
But Red can remember learning how to ride a bike with Green.
.
Red's mother couldn't afford a bicycle, so Red had had to share with Green. And Green said that, since the bike was his, he got to decide when Red could use it and when he couldn't.
I think I might be in the mood to let you have a turn. Might. Maybe if you bring me a ice cream smoothie first… Green had said haughtily, pedalling in circles around Red.
Red had tried to push Green off the bike after that, and Daisy had appeared through the back door to tell them both off.
They both got to ride Green's bike after that, under Daisy's careful supervision.
Neither of them had gotten ice cream smoothies, though.
.
Red can remember learning how to swim with Green.
Pallet Town didn't have a swimming pool, so Daisy had to take them both to Viridian City one summer for classes.
The classes were cheap and understaffed, though, and the swim coach had just let them do whatever they wanted for the most part.
Green had gotten really good and was showing off his Australian crawl. Red was standing at the wall and holding his kickboard to his chest.
Hi, I'm Vanessa! One of the girls from Viridian had crawled under the lane line into his lane. My mom didn't want me to take swimming classes, but my dad said I was too old not to know how, so here I am. I've never seen you around Viridian before though. What's your name?
Red dipped his mouth under the water and blew out bubbles in lieu of answering.
Green had swum back to the wall in an instant.
Hi. I'm Green, he swooped in. And this is Red. He's my friend, so he's pretty cool. Not as cool as me, though. Do you like swimming? I love it! But not as much as Pokémon, though.
Vanessa flustered. Well, I like fire Pokémon best, so it doesn't go well with swim-
Eh, Red's a loser, Jeff, one of the boys from Pallet Town in the next lane over, interrupted. He's a total retard – too dumb to say anything.
You shouldn't say things like that, Joy, one of the girls from their town, chastised. My mom says it's not right to make fun of people who are simple.
Shut up! Green said. Red's not an idiot! And he's not simple!
The girl shrugged and pushed off the wall, into the deep end of the pool.
Um… Vanessa said.
Is too! Jeff persisted. And Green's a moron too, hanging out with this idiot! You only like him because he's too dumb to complain when you start bragging about Pokémon and shit.
Ooooooh! You said a bad word, one of the other kids whispered.
Shut the hell up! Green said, turning angrily at Jeff, whose friends were gathering around, hanging across the lane line to watch the spectacle. That's not true at all. He talks all the time when it's just us.
If it's not true, Red will tell us himself. Jeff shrugged.
They all turned to Red.
Hey, loser, say something.
We know you can.
Tell us we're wrong.
Say something.
Red, curled up against the wall of the pool, lifted his head above the water and said one word he knew he could get right.
No.
The rest of the kids laughed, as if he had said something hilarious, except for Green, who looked angry, and Vanessa, who was strategically retreating back to her own lane.
Git outta here! Green said, as Jeff and his friends pushed off the wall, still laughing.
Green turned to Red.
Don't listen to any of them, Green said. We're awesome. We don't need any of them.
It's not true though. Red can see the jealous smear of colour in Green's eyes, as they follow Jeff down the pool in one direction, and Vanessa in the other.
Red's not enough for Green. His world is too small for Green.
Red hadn't wanted to go back to swimming lessons after that. But Green did. And Red's mother had already paid for the whole season, so he kept going back for the rest of the summer, until he managed to swim in the deep end without a kickboard and Green had managed to learn the breaststroke as well as the crawl.
They couldn't convince Red to go the next year though. So, even though Green wanted to learn backstroke and butterfly, he stayed behind in Pallet Town with Red, in the world that was just too small for him.
.
That's what Red remembers walking through the underground path that will take him to Vermilion.
Red also remembers the Fame Checker, which has been sitting in his bag, forgotten for the past week.
He digs it out and presses the button to record himself.
Green doesn't know how to swim the butterfly or the backstroke, Red says, but his first bicycle was really cool. It was lime green with racing stripes.
The Fame Checker beeps and the file is saved, and Red's words echo through the tunnel, reverberating off walls and coming back to him, distorted twice over.
.
.
Red wasn't originally planning on using the ticket for the S.S. Anne that Bill had gifted him with, but he's returned to his Pokémon journey with renewed vigour, and he's heard that there are a bunch of trainers as well as a master of the Cut technique onboard, so it's no time to be picky about where his ticket came from.
He flashes the ticket at the ship's entrance, and is grateful when the attendant doesn't make him explain anything. And…
"Bonjour! Red!" Green says, brightly.
They're on the upper level of the ship, and Green slings his arm over Red's shoulder and sways in tune with the S.S. Anne as it rocks to the tides.
"Si tard. Si tard. Pourquoi viens tu si tard?"
Red startles at the contact. Green's talking strange. Red can't understand. Green's touching him too. He doesn't understand that either. Green doesn't touch him.
"Imagine seeing you here!" Green's saying, jostling his shoulder. He pauses and pulls away looking wide-eyed and surprised. "Red, were you really invited?"
Red's not sure if receiving a ticket from Bill really counts as being invited, but he doesn't want to tell Green that. It's embarrassing, especially since Green could probably wrangle an invitation for every social event from here to Saffron, given who his grandfather is.
"So how's your Pokédex coming?" Green asks, "I already caught forty kinds, pal."
Green's leaning awkwardly against Red's back now. Red forces himself not to pull away. Instead, he reaches into the side pocket of his bag and pulls out his Pokédex. He flips it open in response, so that Green can see the list. He hasn't caught forty yet, but he's close, only four species of Pokémon behind.
Green peers over his shoulder and looks at the data in the Pokédex and hums in a way that doesn't sound as mocking as Red would expect.
"Different kinds are everywhere," Green finally advises. He pushes himself up off of Red and steps a few feet back. "Crawl around in grassy areas, and look hard for them."
That's all the warning Red gets before Green reaches for the Pokéballs at his belt and tosses out the one containing his Pidgeotto, and Red has to quickly follow with his Pikachu.
Except… the whole battle is strange.
It's too easy, for one.
Green allows Red to fight his Pigeotto with Pikachu, despite the clear type advantage in Red's favour. And when his Ratticate faints under the force of a Thundershock, he's slow to pull the Pokémon back into its Pokéball. He fumbles badly for medicine in his when Charmeleon becomes paralysed. And when Ivysaur's vines shoot out to constrict Kadabra, too slowly, Red realises, Green is even slower on the uptake, and the attack connects against all logic.
Green's movements are choppy, slow, and unpredictable.
Red doesn't appreciate this new Green.
Green just kind of makes a noise between a sigh and a groan when his last Pokémon is felled, and then-
There's that arm wrapped around Red's shoulder again, and Green has moved with a sudden burst of speed and is talking into Red's ear, and sliding a couple of Pokédollar bills, winnings from the battle, into Red's pocket.
"I heard there was a Cut master on board," Green says, grinning widely. "But he was just a seasick old man! Cut itself is really useful! Yup, it'll be handy."
Too close! Too close! is all that Red can think.
And then he's gone.
"You should go see him, too. Smell ya!" Green calls over his shoulder, as he wobbles off down the stairs.
Leaving Red behind.
Paralysed. Face burning.
Cupping the ear that Green had breathed into.
And what in all four regions just happened? What was that?
Find out, Red thinks. Commands, really.
.
And that's the crusade he sets off on, running back through the ship, entering every room, every private cabin, every nook and cranny he left previously unturned.
Talk to every single person on the ship. Ask every person on the ship about Green.
And it gets easier as he does it, Red finds.
He pulls up Bill's private file in the Fame Checker, crops the picture of him and Green, and imports the correct half into Green's file.
He starts out with a script, and perfects it from there.
"That boy?" Red asks. "Had you saw him?"
"This boy?" the gentleman in room 1B asks, clarifying the question. "Have I seen him?"
Red listens closely to how he says it, repeats it the best he knows how, and it's a cakewalk from there. Sometimes he doesn't even have to say anything. People see the picture of Green, and they're jumping at the chance to offer their opinions.
Green always left an impression on people.
"You, mon petit! We're busy here! Out of the way!" one of the chefs in the kitchen says. "Eh, this boy! He was down here bothering us for more shrimp in his pasta just a while ago. Too expensive! We have to import the Clauncher all the way from Kalos. Some guests!" he groans before pushing Red aside.
Red doesn't mind. He's captured the recording already.
That's Green. He was always bothering Mother for more shrimp tempura.
"That guy?" the girl in 1D says. "He introduced himself as Green Oak, and then got all pissy when I asked if he was related to Professor Oak. He sure changed his tune quick though. I mentioned travelling around the world, and he was practically eating out of my hand, asking about what kind of Pokémon I had seen there."
Exactly like Green, Red thinks, as he presses the button on the Fame Checker and tries to smile at the girl.
"He saw the Pokemon I fished up and wanted to know all about where he could get a rod," one of the fishermen below deck says. "The nerve! After he called our Pokémon weak!"
Nothing new.
But Red saves the recording anyhow.
"When I said that my pa said there were a hundred species of Pokemon, he said my pa was pretty stupid," offers a sailor up on deck. "I mean- I think there are more too... But he didn't have to call Pa stupid!"
"Oh, are you talking about that boy, Green?"
The sailor makes his excuses and returns to scrubbing the deck as a foreign couple approaches. The man has red hair, and the woman blonde, and they look much too fashionable to be speaking with Red.
"Are you his friend?" the woman asks.
Red nods. Because even if it's not true, it's easier than explaining.
"How wonderful," the man says. "Your friend was really the life of the party!"
"Yes, he was quite a charmer," the woman says. "We mentioned we were from Kalos and he was so thrilled to get a chance to chat with us."
"Couldn't stop complementing our pronunciation. Asked us all about Kalos. Mentioned how he'd love a chance to study abroad."
Red doesn't think their pronunciation is that good. Their accent is a little hard to decipher. He's not sure how much of this he's getting – but they are definitely talking about Green.
And 'study abroad' manages to stand out – loud and clear.
"Well, we told him that he'd probably need to take a high school equivalency test and a couple of extra classes…"
"But Kalos has some wonderful programs for international students, so we don't see why not?" the woman shrugs.
Red imagines chasing Green not just all over Kanto, but to Kalos too, and then all over the whole world.
Except he has no reason to chase Green to Kalos in the first place. It's enough to make his head hurt.
"He was so delighted!" the man says.
"He got ahold of some wine at some point and, my-"
"He started asking us how to say this and that in French. It was pretty funny at first, but he surprised us. I think he really took to it!"
"By the end, I don't think there was a person at the party who wasn't falling over themselves laughing at his jokes, hanging off his every word. Everyone was completely enamoured by him." The woman blushes.
Wine?
"No, that was just you, my love," the man says, grinning. "I know you have a wicked traitorous heart."
"Liar," she replies, smirking at him. "You know it's all yours."
That's the reason he was acting like that, Red thinks. The only reason.
"I didn't see you at the party though," the man says.
Red startles. He shakes his head.
He had come too late.
"What a shame," the man continues. "It was quite the event. Ah! Forgive me- my name is Gerald, and this is Jean," he says, gesturing to the woman. "And you are?"
"Re-"
Red stops, though. He can't say why, but somewhere things went off script, and now…
"Oh! Don't feel pressured to speak French," the woman says, misunderstanding Red's silence. "We're quite well versed in the language of the people."
Then Red remembers he has the Fame Checker in his hand still, recording Red's incriminating silence.
He flips it off.
"S-rry" Red says, before running back inside the ship, without looking back.
.
On the top level of the ship is the captain, the rumoured 'Cut master', and Red's feet drag him there. The entire room smells of vomit.
Red can barely stand it, but he channels Daisy, who rubbed her little brother's back in small circles whenever he was sick.
And, somehow, the captain perks up immediately.
"I feel much better! You have the magic touch," he tells Red. "So you've come to see my Cut technique, right? I could show you if I wasn't ill…"
Red holds up the Fame Checker instead. For completion's sake. The last person on the ship.
"I know! You can have this! Teach it to your Pokémon and it can learn Cut for you!" he reaches into one of his desk drawers and finds a floppy disk labelled HM01, before he notices the Fame Checker with the photo of Green in Red's hand. "Huh?"
Red accepts the floppy, but he persists, holding up the Fame Checker. "This boy? Have… seen him?" Red says tiredly, pressing the record button.
"Oh, him?" the captain replies. "Well, I managed to show him and his Pokémon how to Cut."
Red nods.
"But… what can I say?" the captain shrugs. "Talent comes in all forms. He didn't have your healing touch. That's for sure."
.
.
Ivysaur takes out Voltorb and Pikachu without much trouble, and then it's just Red's Pikachu against Lieutenant Surge's Raichu.
Raichu is powerful, and fast, but Pikachu is just a little bit faster. Red has him dodge Raichu's attack at a critical moment, and that secures him the win. If that attack had hit…
Well, he'd be heading back to the Pokémon Center, like he's about do anyway. But he wouldn't have his Thunder Badge. And he also wouldn't have known how to act around Surge. Wouldn't know how to ask…
Red takes out the Fame Checker, like he's accustomed himself to doing, and tries to meet Surge's eyes.
"Need something? Just a minute, kid. Lemme finish my set first. We can talk about it on the way over to the Center."
Surge grabs ahold of the exercise bar on the side of the room, and does no less than fifty pull-ups.
Red had interrupted, when he made it through the traps into Surge's quarters forty minutes ago.
Damn, I thought I had time for at least a set of two-hundred before you figured it out, Surge had said, jumping down from the bar and flexing his bicep. You like puzzles, kid? Blaine's gonna have a field day with you!
"Alright! Ready to go?!" Surge says.
Lieutenant Surge walks forward and Red follows, holding the Fame Checker out solicitously.
Surge doesn't see it, though. He reaches down and pulls up the hem of his green tank top, to wipe the sweat off his forehead. Red catches a glimpse of flat stomach and toned abs.
Then the world flips upside down as Red trips over one of the gym's trash cans.
His back hurts, but Red ignores it. He automatically pulled the Fame Checker close to his chest during the fall, and now he chances a glance at it.
Safe. Not damaged at all. What a relief.
"You okay, kid?" Surge asks.
He walks forward and bends down to right the trash can. Red watches his back muscles flex as he reaches to tossing a stray candy wrapper and an old shoe back inside, before he turns to offer a hand to Red.
Red frowns down at the Fame Checker, and pockets it before taking Surge's hand.
"Good man! Didn't attack when my back was turned," Surge says, pulling Red unevenly to his feet.
He pauses just before they reach the gym's exit, and shouts back to his trainees. "I'm heading out for the day! Wrap it up, close it down, and you're dismissed for the day, soldiers!"
Outside, it's just getting to be dusk.
"Usually I'm a bit more concerned about the people who come into my gym," Surge explains, pushing aside the bushes at the gym's entrance, and revealing the path back to the streets. "If war teaches you anything, it's that you can never be too careful. But I heard about you ahead of time from Leader Brock in Pewter."
Red feels a passing blip of annoyance. So Brock went ahead and explained. Well, at least he knew why Surge wasn't giving him a hard time about not saying much.
"Anyhow," Surge continued. "I figured anybody who's hands-on enough to make it through my trash can test can't be all bad," he laughed.
There is something humbling about having to move trash cans around to disable the traps in Vermilion City's Gym.
Red had already suspected it was intentional. He can't imagine somebody like, say, the Pokemon Fan Club Chairman, getting his hands dirty like this.
"People don't passed test?" Red asked, quietly.
A look of surprise ghosted past Surge's face for just a moment.
"Like you wouldn't believe, kid," he replies. "Challengers are always running out of my gym – too snooty to get their hands dirty."
"…Chairmen?" Red asked.
Surge scratches his head for a minute. "Sorry, kid. Can you repeat that?"
"Like a… Fan Club Chair?" Red tried.
"Oh, that guy," Surge said.
He groans and sticks his tongue out in disgust, makes a face that catches the attention of everybody else on the street. Red's a little embarrassed by his expressiveness.
"You're too perceptive for your own good, kid. That's an argument that goes waaay back. Haven't seen him around my gym lately – certainly not after I installed the trash can test."
Surge clears his throat, and when he starts talking again, the tone of his voice is different.
"'Your gym fails to display the beauty of Pokémon! Why, my dear Rapidash…'" he says, mimicking the Chairman perfectly for a minute, before resuming in his normal tone of voice. "That guy- he thinks sitting on a couch and talking about Pokémon is what it's about. Me and Raichu owe each other our lives – that's not something you can imitate with talk alone. 'I've collected more than one hundred Pokémon,' he says. It's better to have a real bond with three Pokémon, than have a hundred and be that superficial."
Red thinks about the Pokédex and wonders.
"Don't take it from me though, kid," Surge says. "Those are answers you find out yourself. No need to get involved in Vermilion City politics. Or politics at all, for that matter," he grimaced briefly. "Although you seem to be on the right track, I noticed you had excellent taste in Pokémon there, kid."
Surge winks, and eyes the Pokéball at Red's belt where Pikachu is resting.
Red pauses. Pikachu is pretty tired from his battle with Surge's Raichu, but…
Red reaches for the Pokéball and taps the release button, and Pikachu reappears, jumping up on Red's shoulder.
Surge brightens. "Hey there," he leans down, reaching a hand out to Pikachu. "You're a beauty, aren't you?"
"Pika-pi!" Pikachu says, leaning forward to grasp onto Surge's fingers.
Pikachu always was prone to flattery, Red thinks.
Pikachu squeaks excitedly and Surge laughs and fishes through his pockets, pulling out some stray berries which Pikachu devours hungrily.
And Red's relieved. Because things were going well, and now they're still going well. Because Red doesn't have a chance to mess it up. Because Pikachu manages to fill the silence for the rest of the way to the Pokémon Center.
Once they're there, the nurse takes their Pokéballs. Red's Pokémon heal quickly, and Lieutenant Surge's Pokémon heal even quicker, and pretty soon Red's Pikachu was running along with Surge's Pikachu and Raichu around the Pokémon Center, ducking behind potted plants and jumping between busy trainers and their PCs, as they chased each other around the lobby.
Lieutenant Surge turns to Red and laughs, and Red feels the sudden imperative to speak.
"… speaks very good," Red points at Surge. "You be in Kanto, for long?"
It's true… or so Red thinks. Of course Red can't tell for sure, but Surge's accent doesn't seem to be very thick, much better than that couple on the S.S. Anne (except Red would rather not think of them). And Red's pretty sure he's been correctly understanding what Surge has said.
Anyhow, whenever his mother met foreigners, she always complimented them on their speech. It was the polite thing to do, apparently.
Surge doesn't seem very flattered, though. "Eh," he says, "by now I've been here in Vermillion… ten years? At least! I try not to keep track," he says.
Silence.
Surge's Pikachu returns to his side, squeaking excitedly. Red's Pikachu and Raichu are still racing around one another, but they seem to be getting tired too.
We should go soon, Red thinks.
He pull the Fame Checker back out of his pocket and flips through it to Green's picture, before holding it up so Surge can see.
I know he passed through your gym, Red thinks. I saw his name on the list of winning challengers at the front of your gym.
Surge sees the picture and laughs.
Red turns on the recorder.
"Yeah, that kid had a little bit of trouble taking me on too, but he managed to pull through in the end. That's one hell of a Kadabra he has." Surge nods almost proudly. "And he was darned impressed with my Raichu as well. No kidding. After all me and old Rai have been through together, only a fool wouldn't be impressed."
Raichu hears its name and hops excitedly over to Surge.
Red's own Pikachu gets the message and runs back over, leaping up to the top of Red's head, which still isn't as high as where Raichu and the junior Pikachu are perched on each of Surge's shoulders.
"But 'parently your friend didn't know how many Pokémon could be evolved with elemental stones. Seemed real interested in hearing what I had to say about it," Surge continues. "I told 'im he could see about getting his hands on some of them at the Celadon Department Store, although they cost a pretty penny. You're better off digging for them in the mountains."
Red pauses the recording and wonders why Surge is telling him this.
"So how about you, kid?" Surge asks. "You interested in evolving that Pikachu of yours? You may want to put it off until he grows up a bit and learns Thunder. But here!"
Lieutenant Surge pulls a small red box from the pocket of his cargo pants. And Red's Pikachu is sniffing the box curiously before Surge has even gotten the chance to open it.
Red saves the recording and pockets the Fame Checker, as Surge pulls the lid off the box.
Inside is a gemstone, a clear green colour with a line of yellow squiggling jagged through the centre of the stone.
Pikachu is reaching to paw at the gem curiously, just like Surge's own Pikachu is doing, although Surge waves her away.
That's a Thunder Stone.
Red reaches up and pulls his Pikachu back tightly to his chest.
Surge replaces the lid on the box and preoffers it to Red, holding it out solicitously.
But Red shakes his head, holding Pikachu so tightly he can't move. No.
Lieutenant Surge looks surprised for a moment.
But it's only a moment.
His surprised look breaks into a smile and, as he pockets the box, he laughs loudly.
His Raichu and Pikachu are squeaking curiously on his shoulders.
"In that case kid, hold onto your youth as long as you can! Although, be careful: Pikachu or Raichu, Pokémon or People, we all grow up either way."
.
.
On the way out of Vermilion, Red runs into a police officer. She's apprehended a Squirtle who's been causing problems in the area.
"You have a Thunder Badge? You must be a good trainer!" she declares. "You'll take good care of it for me, right?"
Red nods and the officer hands over the Pokéball as fast as she can. She's absolutely relieved to have it out of her hands, and walks with a spring in her step back through the streets.
Places to go. Things to do, Red thinks. Just like everyone else.
Red examines the Pokéball. It's ordinary – not one of the transparent models either. Pikachu is already outside of his Pokéball, but he takes a moment to call out Ivysaur too. This Squirtle will be their partner, at least for a little while. It's good for them to get to know each other.
Red believes strongly in the importance of socialisation.
At least where Pokémon are concerned.
Red taps the new Pokéball on the ground, and watches the Squirtle materialise in front of them.
He's glad he did this sooner rather than later. The Squirtle wasn't only confined by the Pokéball, its arms and legs and tail are bound to the outside of its shell with a tight coil of rope – leaving dark welts and blisters along its limbs.
Red's instinct is to blame the officer. This isn't the way to treat a Pokémon, after all. But then, who knows how much 'mischief' the Squirtle had caused after all. It sure makes him wonder.
The Squirtle's head pokes slowly out of its shell, and Red can see it's wearing a pair of dark glasses – not entirely appropriate for the rainy weather outside Vermilion (but then how would it even remove its glasses, if its arms were bound).
The Squirtle catches sight of Ivysaur and Pikachu looking on boredly and draws its head quickly back inside its shell.
Red wastes no time in bending down to grab a piece of the rope pulled against the top of Squirtle's shell.
The Squirtle squeaks in pain as Red yanks it, trying to pull a piece of it out and away from the shell, so that they can cut it safely.
Red cringes in sympathy and calls Ivysaur over to cut the rope.
Razor Leaf, Red commands, and the rope falls limply to the ground.
The Squirtle wiggles its newly freed limbs, and then immediately withdraw them into its shell.
And they all stay like that for a moment – Pikachu and Ivysaur and Red, all staring at the unmoving Squirtle shell with varying levels of bordom and vexation.
Red's just about to call it quits and get moving when there is a sudden burst of motion.
The Squirtle shell spins as water rockets out of every opening, and Red and his Pokémon jump backwards in surprise.
Intimidation tactics, Red recognises, as Squirtle used the moment to re-emerge from its shell and make a break for it.
The Squirtle runs as quickly as he could towards Vermilion, without looking back.
Squirtles, however, are not known for being particularly quick footed.
Red turns to Ivysaur and issues a command for capture.
Only try not to hurt it! Try to grab it by its shell!
Ivysaur nods, and long vines whip out, easily reaching several meters across the field to recapture the Squirtle.
Squirtle's too quick for his own good, though.
The vines twist to curl harmlessly around Squirtle's shell, but Squirtle anticipates the attack. He lashes out with his arms, trying to claw apart Ivysaur's vines, and inadvertently placing them directly in range for the attack.
The Squirtle cries out again as the vines hit the already tender skin, and he withdraws a second time back into his shell.
Ivysaur isn't apologetic about mistakenly hurting the Squirtle. He wraps his vines quickly around Squirtle and drags the body up over his head, presenting the shell to Red and eyeing the Pokéballs at his belt meaningfully.
Red can't (won't) take that route out of this though. He carries Squirtle, safely tucked in his shell, all the way back to the Pokémon Center in the middle of Vermilion, with Pikachu and Ivysaur following behind him.
When they arrive, the nurse at the front counter takes one look at the shell, crosses her arms, and shakes her head derisively.
Red's there at the counter twenty minutes, trying to explain that he's not in the habit of scaring Pokémon out of their wits. It's not because of him that Squirtle won't leave his shell. He just now received this Pokémon from an officer, and-
In the end, Red suspects it's not his explanation that convinces her, as much as the way Pikachu jumps up onto his shoulder and how Ivysaur stands resolutely at his heel, looking with obvious care and concern as Red makes vague hand gestures at the Squirtle shell.
The nurse eventually takes the Squirtle into the next room to begin treatment, and returns a couple minutes later with her apron soaking wet, a tube of skin ointment, and a glare that's attempting to bore holes through Red's forehead.
"Apply this to your Pokémon's skin lesions every twelve hours, until the tube runs out," she explains. "Starting now. …Outside."
Red exits the centre and walks out around the side of the building. He places the Squirtle shell down on the concrete and unscrews the cap on the tube of ointment.
Don't be afraid. It's going to be okay, he thinks at the Squirtle, placing a steadying hand over the shell.
He manages to pry the Squirtle's tail out and apply the ointment on it before things go belly-up.
He re-enters the Pokémon Center and walks back up to the front desk. His entire face is splattered with ointment, as is Squirtle's shell. The nurse purses her lips and frowns as Red holds up the tube – the bottom crushed and flattened under Squirtle's shell, a gash clawed out of the side, and the top burst off entirely.
The nurse had said until the tube ran out, but somehow Red doubts this is what she meant.
"… refills.." Red mumbles.
.
Red and his Pokémon push on with travelling after that, even though it's already getting dark out. Red doesn't like staying overnight in the city if he can help it. Negotiating with hotels and hostels is a pain, and if he moves out to Route 11 he can set up his tent and sleep there. Red's gotten used to camping.
He's moving even slower than usual, though. The grass outside of Vermilion is even taller than usual and hard to navigate. Pikachu and Ivysaur are constantly being ambushed by wild Pokémon. And the Squirtle shell he's lugging around is a lot of extra weight for him to carry.
Don't be afraid. It's going to be okay, Red thinks vehemently. I won't put you back inside the Pokéball, not yet. I won't send you to the PC or to Oak, not until you're ready.
Red's pretty convinced he doesn't actually want the Squirtle as a teammate, but that doesn't mean he can drop the Pokémon now, while it's still injured and scared.
The stars are already out by the time Red's set up camp for the night, along with Pikachu and Ivysaur. He's too tired to heat up any provisions. So he just eats some fruit himself, and pulls out a bag of Pokésnacks for the others. Ivysaur and Pikachu devour their shares voraciously, and Red leaves some out for Squirtle, who doesn't eat, but does finally pokes his head out of his shell again sometime just before eleven at night.
The others have eaten their food down to just crumbs and are getting ready to lie down for the night. Red can see that the Squirtle still has on its pair of dark glasses as he tucks the blankets around Pikachu, who is already snoring.
Ivysaur is dropping off too, but Squirtle turns away from the camp slowly. He reaches all four of his arms and legs out of his shell and removes the dark glasses from his head, before tucking them away in his shell.
Red watches, and from the corner of his vision, he can see that Squirtle's eyes are a beautiful watery aquamarine.
Squirtle steps forward on all four legs, allowing his tail to stretch and fan out behind him, before taking a seat out on the edge of camp.
There is a boulder to one side of the tent that Red hopes will shelter them from the wind, and on the other side is grass. Below them the earth slopes down to fields and salt marshes and then the sea, and above them the stars shine brightly and a half moon is dangling in the sky.
Red decides to wait up, until the Squirtle drifts off to sleep.
Then, a couple hours later, it starts.
Squirtle opens his mouth around one in the morning and lets out a piercing cry.
Red startles awake, his head and shoulders slumped down uncomfortably in his seat, with the sudden realisation he must have nodded off at some point.
Squirtle's looking out over the seascape and he continues to scream, howl, screech into the night.
Red scrambles to his feet and runs forward. He tugs urgently on Squirtle's shell.
Squirtle flinches, but he doesn't pull into his shell this time, doesn't even turn to look at Red. He only steadies himself, digs his toes into the soil and howls again.
And Red lets go.
Red had checked the Pokédex earlier. Was that what Squirtle's cry had sounded like?
Ivysaur shook angrily as he pushed himself to his feet, groggy faced and with one eye closed. He pulled his vines out threateningly and walked out of the tent towards the howling Squirtle.
Red can tell Ivysaur's about to strike and tells his Pokémon to stand down.
Ivysaur makes an annoyed face, but he withdraws his vines and lets Red tap him on the head with his Pokéball.
There. Ivysaur can sleep inside peacefully.
Pikachu has also awoken, and is blinking lazily as he exits the tent. Pikachu doesn't bother turning to Squirtle though. He paws at his ears and winces, as he curls into Red's lap and buries his face into Red's elbow.
Squirtle shows no sign of letting up, only pausing to inhale deeply between screeches. Water is puddling around his feet, dripping from his whole body.
Then the wild Pokémon start to appear.
Red nuzzles Pikachu's shoulder as the grass around their tent rustles.
The little mouse squeaks and looks up at him, tiredly at first, then with eyes that burn stronger, meeting Red's gaze with determination.
Pikachu fills up the sky with a Thunderbolt to match the sound of Squirtle's latest cry.
And they go on like that for quite a while, exhausted, but all equally non-relenting.
Pikachu rests the best he can, at Red's side with Red's hands clasped over his pointy yellow ears, during the breaks between the endless waves of wild Pokémon attacks.
Red fishes a flashlight out of his bag and surveys the area, casting light on any approaching wild Pokémon.
And Squirtle – his voice becomes raspy, more harsh and more desperate, as the hours tick by.
At least a dozen Rattata and Raticate try to tackle them. Followed by an Ekans that slithered through the grass. Then a Poliwag waddles up. Two Sandshrew burrow up from underground. And then there are more Ekans and another group of Rattata.
And then Red understands.
It's not going to be okay. That's why he can't just send Squirtle to the PC, or stick him in his Pokéball.
Squirtle looks hopefully at each and every Pokémon that appears through the fields to attack them. (To silence them.) And then, as they come into sight...
And he looks the most forlorn after he's looked the most hopeful, when that clammy skinned blue Pokémon turns out to be a Poliwag.
The cries that are alerting every Pokémon in the area to their presence…
Squirtle's calling out for his friends, or his family, who won't (can't) come.
Red must have recognised it already, subconsciously. That's why he can't stop Squirtle. He'll let Squirtle cry for them, search for them, mourn for them all night. And the next night. And the night after if he has to. Red can't be the one to put an end to it.
So he doesn't. Squirtle is wailing, the wild Pokémon have retreated temporarily, Pikachu is burying his ears into Red's coat, and Red pulls out his Fame Checker.
He records only a couple of seconds of the Squirtle's cry, before he wonders what in all four regions he's thinking and turns the machine off.
He saves the recording anyhow, though. It seems relevant. There's something nostalgic about that cry. Something hauntingly familiar.
When Squirtle's screeches come to a halt around six in the morning, Squirtle's not standing anymore. He's just laying on his stomach on the ground, as the last few wails break from his lips and die off into whimpers.
Squirtle lies in the puddle of mud that's formed under him on the ground and blinks slowly, exhausted, into the early morning light.
Pikachu falls asleep instantly in the silence, and the last of the wild Pokémon have long since fled, so Red feels safe as he tucks Pikachu back into the tent for a couple minutes.
Squirtle doesn't move as Red steps forward to see him. Only blinks slowly.
Red picks him up, and there's no struggling this time, as Red cleans his skin with spare flasks of drinking water, and applies the skin ointment the nurse gave him to Squirtle's wounds from the other day.
Red gives the Squirtle a bite of apple and a drink of water, and Squirtle chews slowly, before falling to sleep right there, with the apple only half swallowed.
You must be tired, Red thinks.
Red's tired too. But he's been tired for a long time now, and the edge of the sun is already starting to break over the horizon. So instead Red returns Pikachu to his Pokéball, and begins packing, taking down his tent and stuffing his equipment into his backpack.
When he's done, all that's left is Squirtle, laying curled up in the grass, and the road ahead.
Squirtle feels heavier today, with his limbs hanging limply, dead weight, out of his shell as he slumbers.
Red's already come to terms with the burden, though, so he just lifts Squirtle up in his arms and begins to make his way towards the bridges on Route 12.
.
.
AN: I'm sorry for writing tortured Squirtles and other horrible things.
I edit the best I know how, but the typo is a slippery beast. If you catch any, please inform me.
And thanks for reading, as always!
