Disclaimer: Jon and Kate: Hahaha, love ya too : 3 Nightmare: *joins your moment of silence* Thank you! I love your icon, by the way. Stormy: Thank you so much! Pika: Thanks so much! I was a little worried that the idea wouldn't go over well, but I'm glad people are finding it interesting ^.^; Olih: BILLLLLLLLLL. You've asked a lot of questions that I hadn't thought of answers for yet, so for that I thank you! What a beautiful review ; w ; Oh yes, hardcore girl. Like, the exact opposite of Odile. Oooh, smart words~ Tri: I'm glad to hear it! : D Pillocase: Thanks for the fave! Reviews are loved! Puppy: Thanks for the alert/ review!

.

.

.

.

Chapter One

Date: March 20th, 2014.

Weather: Drizzling.

Listening To: 'Going Away', by Meg & Dia.

Body Count: 0.

.

.

.

.

Dear diary,

When I look back I notice that years have gone by in the blink of an eye, as if I've fast-forwarded through them all. School days blur together; weekends haze over. Inside jokes and daily routines fade, like a shirt that's been tossed in the washer once too many times.

And now I've graduated.

The whole day was just so… indescribable. I was up all last night thinking about it, but it didn't play out like it did in my mind.

In my mind, I pictured waking up to my mom blathering on about how it was oh so tragic to see her baby girl all grown up.

Instead, she made me pancakes- my favourite kind, with the chocolate chips in them- and offered me a ride to school. She hasn't done that since… Arceus, since I don't know when. It was nice, I guess. Even if I am perfectly capable of driving myself to school.

Still, it was a bribe.

I knew as much as she waited outside my room, speaking to me through the door as I put my grad gown over my clothes. She already sounded weepy, using her sleeves to wipe her eyes as she trailed after me. She followed me to the bathroom, not even letting me piss in peace as she guilt-tripped me about my brother, my father, and herself. At one point, she started on about how happy she was.

"You could be happy, too," she said, her voice tinged with hopefulness. "You could stay here, and settle down with that… that Cheren boy. There are many jobs that don't require you to go through with your nuzlocke."

"And wind up in this dead-end life, like you?" I yanked my pants up, and spoke over the sound of the toilet flushing. "That's not happy, Mom, that's just sad. Have you ever thought that I might want to go on my nuzlocke? Teddy was the one that didn't want to go, not me." I turned on the tap, scrubbing my hands with more force than necessary. "Oh, and by the way, Cheren and I broke up in the beginning of the year. Thanks for noticing."

She shut up after that.

We drove to the school in silence, since Dad had been called to one of his meetings and wasn't there to interrupt the quiet. As soon as we reached the parking lot I kicked the door open, thanked her for the ride and got the hell out of there, nearly mowing over some scrawny freshman in the process. Mom drove off to go find a parking spot, the frown on her face deepening as she pulled the door shut behind me.

I focused on trying not to trip over the hem of my gown, and tried not to feel too guilty.

By the time I entered the small gym, where all of the graduates had been told to assemble, the teachers were already lining people up in alphabetical order. Mrs. Juniper was organizing the line of Cs, with Jack attempting to catch her attention long enough to ask a question. Mr. Hastings was busy scolding Sy for wearing her gown inside out, and Sy was scowling back at him.

Waving back to the few people that acknowledged my entrance, I spotted Cheren cleaning his glasses with the hem of his gown, and slid into line behind him. He continued to polish his lenses, only stopping when I poked him in the back.

"Hey," I said, the space between us (mercifully) free of post-breakup awkwardness.

"Hey," he answered. Putting his glasses back on, he blinked at me with those dark eyes of his, and offered me a cool smile. "Nervous?"

"No." It was that coolness that caused us to break up, but at the moment I welcomed it.

He snorted. "Only a fool wouldn't be nervous."

"A 'fool'? Really, Cheren? Who says 'fool' anymore?" I swung a kick at his knee, which he dodged.

"I do." He pushed his glasses further up his nose.

"Yeah, well, you're snob." I grinned. "And a nag, and a nerd."

"Yes, well, you're classless." A smirk tugged at his mouth. "And a slob, and a fool."

"You've already used the 'fool' jab."

"How classless of you to point that out, Johnson."

"How snobbish of you to reuse your insult, Jacobs."

As I was mock-glaring at him, it struck me that this was one of the last times we would be together as friends: after graduation, we would either never see each other again or face each other as opponents in battle. Friendships forged in childhood never survived through adulthood, let alone through the nuzlockes.

"I'll miss you, Chere," I told him, dropping the act. "We had a good run."

The smirk fell off his face. "I'll miss you, too. Or maybe I won't." Bitterness darkened the maturity in his eyes to jadedness. "None of the adults seem to even remember their friends."

"Well, go hipster. Dare to be different. Grow a really awesome goatee." I clapped him on the back. "Why so pessimistic, Cheren? Are you nervous?"

He set his shoulders. "Of course I'm nervous, Lydia. I'm no fool."

"You don't have any reason to be; you ranked second out of everyone for the practice battles, didn't you? And you ranked first for the written exams." In order to qualify for our trainers' licences, our senior year of high school was dominated by written exams to test our knowledge on pokemon, and simulated battles to test how we utilized that knowledge: those that ranked highest earned a rare, harder to handle pokemon as their starter, and as the ranks went down so did the rarity of the pokemon. I ranked fifteenth out of thirty, since about ten percent of my classmates chose to go to college to get an education for a non-pokemon job: I could've ranked higher, I'm sure, if it wasn't for the fact that I got shitfaced the night before one of the biggest exams and flunked.

"I should have ranked first for both," he sighed. "I don't know how I was beat out by Bianca Kuro, of all people."

Unable to help it, I snickered. "It serves you right for getting cocky."

He opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment the principal's voice ordered that we all come to the big gym for the graduation ceremony. I stiffened, the laugh dead in my mouth, and felt my stomach twist itself into knots.

No matter how much I tried to deny it, I was nervous. More than nervous, I was scared. Scared of saying goodbye to the life I've lived, even if I was sick of it.

Cheren turned his back to me in order to face forwards, but extended a hand to me. "For old friendship's sake?" he offered.

Taking his hand, I gave it a quick squeeze. Then we began filing out, our shoes slapping down on the linoleum as we marched through the hallways. I fixed my eyes on Cheren's back, wanting to imprint the image of his disgustingly straight spine in my memory. It helped steady me as we entered the big gym.

I had expected the parents to be chattering, cameras armed to take snapshots as soon as we walked in. Instead they sat in silent rows, whispering as if they were some sort of cult. The lights of the gymnasium were dimmed, with spotlights trained on the podium that sat in the center of the stage. Principal Erma was adjusting the small microphone that squatted on top of the podium, standing against the backdrop of the screen that covered the entire north wall.

Our teachers got us seated before moving to go line up behind the principal, their ceremonial gowns just as hideous a colour as ours. Still clutching Cheren's hand, I twisted around to see if I could spot Mom anywhere, but there were too many faces to sort through.

"Welcome," boomed Principal Erma, directing my attention back to the podium. "Welcome to today's graduation ceremony. Today we uphold the tradition that was started by President Giovanni the First: the tradition that has caused our economy to flourish, our children's success rates to skyrocket, and Unova to become the country that we live in today."

There were smatterings of applause, but I was grasping Cheren's hand too tightly to join in.

"One hundred and fifty years ago, President Giovanni the First pulled Unova back from the brink of ruin by laying down new laws. He renovated the schooling system, and armed young adults with more practical knowledge of the world. Then he gave them two choices: to go to college and pick a low-risk job, or be partnered with pokemon and join a trainer class.

"Both choices are admirable: low-risk jobs provide us with healthcare, agriculture, and other needed services, and trainers are what keep our economy thriving. To whichever path you've chosen- congratulations! We salute you!"

The applause grew louder, and my palms began to sweat. Cheren didn't seem to notice; even if he did, he didn't mention it. All he did was stare at Principal Erma as if trying to soak up every second of this.

"For those that chose to pursue being trainers, the laws that the President created were- and still are- part of a nuzlocke: a word used to describe a coming-of-age journey. Those laws are as follows."

She angled herself so that we could all have a clear view of the screen behind her, which was suddenly lit. As she continued on, the laws appeared on the screen, reinforcing her words.

"One: a trainer may catch only the first pokemon he or she encounters on a route. Catching more than one is considered poaching, and is illegal. If a trainer is caught breaking this rule, he or she will be fined. If a trainer is caught breaking this rule more than once, his or hers trainer's license will be suspended.

"Two: enhancement drugs such as X Defense and X Attack are illegal, and are strictly forbidden. If a trainer is caught with any of these drugs in their possession, he or she will be fined. If a trainer is caught making multiple offenses, his or her trainer's licence will be suspended."

"Three: revives are inhumane, and are illegal. If a trainer is suspected of using a revive to reanimate a pokemon, or if a trainer has a revive in his or her possession, their trainer card will be revoked. Please call the police if you suspect someone of having revives in their possession."

Pausing to allow the words to sink in, she returned to her place at the podium, and the screen behind her went dark. "Today's graduates are either receiving their starters and trainer cards, or receiving their graduation certificates. No matter which path was chosen, a grueling year awaits you: in order to become a certified trainer, the graduates that chose to be trainers must be recognized by the League, which means embarking on their nuzlocke to earn the eight badges of Unova and challenge the Pokemon League; and in order to become eligible for a job, the graduates that chose low-risk education must complete college." The spotlight sapped the colour from her face, turning it stark white. "We honor and say goodbye to our graduates today, starting with the surnames beginning with A of the college bound."

The first name was called, and a girl by the name of Karen stumbled up the stairs, shaking hands with Mrs. Juniper, Ms. Fennel, Principal Erma, and the rest of the teachers before accepting her graduation certificate.

One by one my classmates crossed the stage, sealing their fates with handshakes before returning to their seats. My hand grew progressively sweatier, and by the time everyone was clapping for the college bound Cheren had let go and started wiping his hand on his gown.

"And now for the League challengers," the principal announced, reading off a new list of names. "Starting with Ashurii Blair."

Ashurii skipped up to the podium, enthusiastically shaking hands with each of the professors. "For Ashurii Blair, tenth ranked overall, is a trainer card and totodile." Principal Erma pressed a laminated, credit-card sized licence and pokeball into Ashurii's hands. "Thank you, Ashurii."

More names were called, and I felt sweat beginning pricking up and down the back of my neck.

"For Dawn Berlitz, thirtieth ranked overall, is…"

"Relax," whispered Cheren.

"I am relaxed," I whispered back.

"Just breathe evenly, and try to calm yourself." The smallest of smirks upturned his lips. "You're the worst liar I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, Lydia."

Time crawled by on its stomach, and I forced my hands together as each person left the stage. Then, in a voice that sounded muffled, I heard Principal Erma call Cheren's name.

He stood, adjusting his glasses before picking his way through the sea of students. He held himself perfectly straight, not taking even one misstep as he walked onstage. The spotlight turned his black hair gray, refracting off his glasses as he calmly shook each hand that was offered to him. "For Cheren Jacobs, second ranked overall, is a trainer's license and tepig." He dipped his head in thanks, his face perfectly composed.

And as he was descending the stairs, I was called up.

"Lydia Johnson."

Yeah. It was one of those times when I didn't know whether to puke rainbows, or actually puke.

As if I was on autopilot I picked my way through the seats, and walked towards the stage. 'Don't let me puke,' I thought. 'And if I do puke, at least let me puke on Mr. Hastings. Arceus, I hate him.'

I climbed the stairs, and went to Mr. Hastings first so that I could transfer the sweat on my hands to his. Then I shook the hands of my other teachers, feeling strangely apart from it all.

"For Lydia Johnson, fifteenth ranked overall, is a trainer card and a snivy." I held out my hands reflexively, and Principal Erma pressed the trainer's licence into my palm. Then she dropped the pokeball into my other hand, muttered a thanks, and gave me a gentle push to propel me back down the stairs.

The plastic of the chair crackled under my ass when I sat back down, and my heart beat hard against my ribcage, as if trying to break free.

Turning to face Cheren, I stared for a while, at a complete loss for what to say.

Then his lips twitched into something resembling a smile, and he murmured, "We did it, Lydia. We're trainers."

The knots in my stomach loosened, as if I had applied a muscle relaxer to them. Oxygen filled up my lungs. My heart slowed.

"We did it," I repeated.

"Bianca Kuro," Principal Erma called. Bianca rose from her seat, and I could see the white flash of her smile from where I sat: she smiled at each person as she made her way to the stage, shaking hands and accepting congratulations. Her flyaway blonde hair was free of its usual knitted cap, her lips splitting in a huge smile as she reached the podium. "For Bianca Kuro, first ranked overall, is a trainer card and oshawott." She looked like the happiest little shit alive as she accepted her trainer's licence and capsule, and bobbed in an awkward curtsey before returning to her seat.

"Dork," I muttered. "Seriously, she looks like a freaking bobble-head."

"Ditz," Cheren agreed. "Her head is as empty as a flower pot. I swear, she only ranked first because of her father's position as a teacher."

Sighing, I ran my thumb over my trainer card, enjoying the newness of it. My rookie status was printed at the top- which would change, since whenever I beat a gym leader my new status would be recorded- and below it was the same picture as my driver's license and passport. On the backside of the card was space for an autograph, with space for my occupation above and below it: once I challenged the League and decided on what trainer class to join- whether it be the ace trainers, breeders, or any of the others- my title and class would be digitally embedded in the surface of the card.

Putting my trainer's license in my lap, I cupped the pokeball in both hands, and lifted it up to my face. It was surprisingly heavy, and shinier than I expected: cold to the touch, I rolled it between my palms, and let myself grin.

"For Ophelia Major, twentieth ranked overall, is…"

"For Odile Rella, thirty-ninth ranked overall, is…"

"For Michael Risque, fourth ranked overall, is…"

The words washed over me, and I shivered in excitement. Rainbows. Yep, I was definitely planning on puking rainbows.

After a small eternity Principal Erma set down her list of names, and addressed us once again. "That concludes our graduation ceremony. Good luck, graduates; fight hard, stay strong, and be victorious!" A great wave of noise rose up from us, and I couldn't help but cheer my heart out as we all thrust our hands into the air: pokeballs and certificates caught the light as we all stood up, fist-pumping like no tomorrow. Exiting the gymnasium in what was supposed to be an orderly fashion, everyone stampeded to the grass field, already comparing pokemon and certificates.

"After-party at my place!" a blonde I recognized as Damion shouted. There was a chorus of approval, and more than half of us went to go get wasted.

I moved to join the fray, but a hand yanked me back. "You're coming home to celebrate," my mom said. How she had reached me so fast was a mystery to me: was she secretly half abra, or was it her mysterious cockblocking powers that let her always ruin my plans? See, that's the kind of stuff Science should teach us. Not that reproductive organs crap. "I want us to spend this last night together."

"Okay, Mom." I wasn't too upset- I had a half-empty bottle of vodka under my bed that I needed to polish off tonight, anyway- but I couldn't leave yet. "Just let me say goodbye to Cheren first."

"Alright. I'll meet you at the car." She released me. Spotting the back of Cheren heading towards the parking lot, I pushed my way through the throng. Hastily shaking hands with Sy and a few others that offered congrats, I escaped the crowd, and was just about to start running after him when-

"No, no, no! A thousand times no!"

-a man's yells scared the shit of me, almost making me drop my pokeball. Fumbling it, I slowed nearly to a stop, and listened in to the argument that was going on around the corner.

"But Papa, I ranked first!" Even though the wall of the school hid the speakers from view, I recognized Bianca Kuro's voice right off the bat. "I ranked first out of everyone, didn't you see?"

"You told me that you would be applying for low-risk education. You have been lying to me and your mother for this entire year."

"Mum knew." Just as I was beginning to formulate a plan to get passed them without making things awkward, I heard her burst into tears. "Mum knew, but I didn't tell you because I was worried you'd react like this!"

"Of course I'm reacting like this." His voice lowered. "You are not cut out to go on a nuzlocke. I will return your pokemon tomorrow morning, and apologize for the shame your stupidity has caused our family. Then you will stay at home with your mother while I work something out." Her sobbing grew louder, and I couldn't believe she hadn't bitch-slapped him and walked away already. "I have never been more disappointed in you."

Making a split-second decision, I stepped out from around the corner. "Hey, we're all so proud of you, Bianca," I said, acting as if I hadn't overheard anything and was totally oblivious to the mingling of snot and tears on her face. Turning to her red-faced father, I added innocently, "Your family must be happy for you."

Obviously I wasn't as convincing as I first thought: her father's face darkened as soon as I was finished speaking. "Young lady, this is a family matter," he snapped.

Ignoring him, I looked back at Bianca. I couldn't remember the last time I talked to her- we had never been friends, and had only associated each other in the rare times that we were paired together for an assignment- but no one, no matter how blonde, deserved to be verbally shit on like that. Dropping the innocent act, I asked her, "My Dad's been on my case about how I never invite anyone from school over for dinner- want to help me prove him wrong?"

She ducked her head a little, knowing what I was trying to do. "Oh… it's okay." She sniffled loudly, her bottom lip shaking. "It's fine, really! It's alright. I'm alright."

"My daughter does not want to associate with you," her father interjected.

"Whatever, dickwad." Patting her on the shoulder, I continued on. She was a big girl: she would figure it out.

Meanwhile, Cheren's car was pulling out of the parking lot.

"Wait!" I shouted, running after it. "Cheren, you asshole, wait up!"

His beat-up minivan idled in the middle of the lot. "Do you need a ride?" he asked as I approached, rolling the window down.

"No; I just needed to say goodbye. We needed to say goodbye."

"To what?"

"Us."

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Wouldn't it be easier if we didn't?"

"Yeah, but we'd regret it later." I suck at goodbyes- I almost always end up crying or punching something- but he was and will always be my snobby, nagging, nerd of a best friend. Dating and breaking up hadn't changed that. "You know, when you're bald and I'm an alcoholic and we both look back at the good old days."

"Always the optimist," he said wryly. "I'll miss that."

"And I'll miss the way you pick up the clothes off my floor like a nanny, and then lecture me about it for a week afterwards."

"I won't miss your language, though. Honestly, it's as if you have to toss a swear word into every sentence."

"And I won't miss your uptightness. It's so fucking annoying sometimes, Cheren, you have no idea."

We both grinned, and then he stuck his hand out the window for me to shake. "Have a good life."

"Fuck handshakes; hugs are where it's at." Putting my license and capsule and the ground, I opened his car door, and threw my arms around his neck. "I'll miss you, Cheren. You'll always be my friend." Pain speared my chest, and I slammed the door shut, picking up my trainer card and pokeball off the ground before jogging off to my car. My eyes were full, and I gripped the pokeball hard as I slid into the passenger's seat.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" My mother's voice was tight with concern.

"Just have an eyelash in my eye." Buckling my seatbelt, I tilted my head back to better force back the tears. "Both eyes, actually. Hurts like hell." In front of us, Cheren's car rounded the corner and disappeared. The burning in my eyes intensified. "Stupid eyelashes."

She began to drive, sneaking glances at the card and capsule that were in my lap. "Are you happy with your starter?"

"I haven't met it yet, but yeah, snivys are pretty cool." Grass pokemon have never been my favourites- I work with a more offensive strategy, instead of setting up Leech Seed and stuff like that- but the snivy evolution line would make for a steady partner.

She smiled. "Your father should be proud, since he started out with an oddish."

"Mm-hm. Grass starters seem to run in the family, don't they?"

"Don't use that tone with me, Lydia." Despite her words, her voice was nothing but pleading. "Today is going to be a happy day, and we are not going to bring up Teddy. Understand?"

"Whatever, Mom." She wasn't helping the stinging of my eyes, so I decided to change the topic. "Will Dad be home for dinner?"

"No. You know how busy he is, what with all these protests to deal with."

The drive home passed by quickly, and before I knew it dinner was over and done with. Mom had been quiet ever since I mentioned Teddy, so I went to go lock myself in my room as soon as I could.

So I'm sitting on my bed right now, working on that vodka I mentioned and watching my snivy. I had let the pokedex function in my laptop scan the pokeball, and it had said that the snivy was a male, so I'm trying to think up a name for him. He won't approach me, though, no matter how much liquor I offer him- he just scuttles around on the floor, staring at me. He doesn't look scared, just… wary. As if he's analyzing a potential threat.

Well, that's okay. It's not like I can expect him to like me right off the bat.

"How many bricks do you think my parents would shit if I named you 'Teddy'?" I ask him. He lifts his snout into the air, giving a long hiss before beginning to nose under my bed.

"I'm going to move along and pretend that I know what that means." Finishing off my drink, I stow the empty bottle back underneath my bed, and nearly get my hand bitten off by my partner. "Watch it! I need those fingers."

He hisses again, the scales on his leaf-shaped tail rising like goosebumps. This close, I can see the depth of intelligence in his eyes, and the proud way he carries himself. "Well, aren't you a cocky little bastard?"

Giving an almost humanlike snort, he nips at my earphones, and I clamp my hand around his snout to hold his mouth shut. "No biting, you hear?" Releasing him, I dare to lift him and put him on the bed beside me. "These are special to me."

Eyeing them, he sniffs around my bed for a bit, and then goes back to glaring at my earphones and I-Pod. "They were my brother's," I defend. "Piss off."

He continues to stare.

"I'm Lydia," I tell him, rubbing the top of his bony head with my forefinger. This time, he doesn't bite. "I'm your trainer, so you should lay off the attitude."

His gaze drops down to you, and I swear to Arceus he snickers. I didn't even know pokemon were capable of snickering. See, diary? You're so pathetic that you can even make a pokemon laugh. "Yeah, yeah, I know. It's not the most trainer-esque hobby, but I got roped into it."

Sorry if the ink's a little smudged here- he started trying to teethe on the pen and began flipping through the pages, and is still going at it, even though I've swatted him away, like, twenty times. Let me shoo him.

Okay, I'm back. There's ink all over the Old World and New World maps in the back of you- the two maps comparing the Old World, when Sinnoh was called Canada and so on- but because of him I've found a few blank pages near the end of you, which is supposed to be used for writing song lyrics down or something. It's kind of stupid, but since I'm already bringing you on my nuzlocke, I guess I better embrace stupid things. I've already decided to bring this I-Pod and portable charger along with me, to remind me of Teddy.

My snivy's at the window now, his claws making marks on the glass as he presses up against it. His brown eyes are wide, and I scoot over to sit next to him, looking at the lake as it reflects the blue of the sky.

Struck with sudden inspiration, I rub the top of his head again. "What do you think of the name Ciel?" I ask.

A purr rumbles from his throat, and he curls up on my pillow.

"Ciel it is, then."

Sighing, I sprawl out beside him. His breathing is quiet, raspy almost, and I find myself liking the sound of it already.

I'll be setting out early tomorrow, so I think I'm going to scribble down some lyrics and then try to sleep. Goodnight, diary.

And yes, I still hate you.

.

.

.

.

Lyrics:

'Please don't forget me: I'm going away.
'I'm taking a taxi to Kanto, where they don't need to know
'All about me- I just need to feel safe.
'Got a thousand sweaters and shoes and paintings to hide skeletons in my bed;
'Don't ask where I'm going.'

'I'm going away:
'I'm going my way.
'Finally it's my time
'To be lonely, and lost, unloved, and I can't wait.
'Don't forget what I said;
'Don't forget my letter.
'Every night I pray for you.
'I don't got no religion-
'Isn't that something?
'I'll miss those days.'

'I saved that bottle; it's now ten years aged.
'I've got some baubles I could sell for money
'And a pair of fresh-shaved legs.
'Won't you baby come with me? I've got extra space
'In my car, in my heart, in my mind.
'Look, there's the passenger seat by the postcards you gave. (Don't know where I'm going.)'

'I'm going away:
'I'm going my way.
'Finally it's my time
'To be lonely, and lost, unloved, and I can't wait.
'Don't forget what I said;
'Don't forget my letter.
'Every night I pray for you.
'I don't got no religion-
'Isn't that something?
'I'll miss those days.'

'But he said, "Slow down, slow down:
'Think it over, we've all got wretched closets
'Silly girl, pride kills more than aids
'Lately." I said, "Come on,
'I've thought it over.
'I don't wanna die here;
'I have no desire to get married."'

'I can't race the others anymore;
'No, I must learn to race myself.'

'I'm going away:
'I'm going my way.
'Finally it's my time
'To be lonely, and lost, unloved, and I can't wait.
'Don't forget what I said;
'Don't forget my letter.
'Every night I pray for you.
'I don't got no religion-
'Isn't that something?
'I'll miss those days.'

'I-I'm not going halfway. (I'll find my way.)
'I-I
'Every night I pray for you;
'Don't believe in heaven,
'Or that it could be a happy place.
'I-I'm going away.'

-'Going Away', by Meg & Dia.

.

.

.

.

A/N:

Okay, first of all, yes, I am aware that I switch between past and present tense in this. I assure you that this is on purpose: it's difficult to write this way, because even though Lydia is writing in the present, she has to write in the past tense to express the day's events.

Secondly, the names I mentioned are from other fics/nuzlockes that I recommend to you. Here they are:

Michael Risque, from ArchXDeath's 'Lost Smiles: Revamped' and 'Lost Memories: Revamped'.

Jack and Karen, from Champion Jack's 'A Trainer's Journey.'

Sy, from Fromidam's 'Of Black, Brown, and Red'.

Ashurii Blair, from TheTrainerNamedSilver's 'Breaking Barriers'.

Ophelia Major, from Olihmajor's upcoming nuzlocke.

Dawn Berlitz, from Deltra 307's 'Tell Me Where It Hurts'.

And Odile and Damion, from my other nuzlocke, 'Last Train Home: A Platinum Nuzlocke'. *blatant advertising is blatant*

Pokemon obtained in this chapter:

Snivy: nickname, Ciel.

Gender: male.

Met in Nuvema Town, lv. 5.

Careful nature, capable of taking hits.

Ability: Overgrow.

Note- Ciel means 'sky' in French, and in-game, while I was looking at the sky-coloured body water by Nuvema, it just kinda came to me. Also, it's the name of the main character in one of my favourite animes, 'Black Butler', which Ebaz got me into.