The Start of Something Big
Nuvema Town, with its small population barely reaching double digits, hums with a palpable energy on this warm spring day.
A young girl gazes out her second story window in the early morning, with her cheek resting upon her hand as she daydreams about the journey that lays ahead of her. Her furrowed eyebrows show her fear to try something new, yet the ghost of a smile on her face shows that she yearns for a new life.
The doorbell rings and suddenly, the girl's footsteps can be heard sprinting down stairs towards the door. She swings the front door open wide.
"Professor Juniper!" The girl beams. "Please, come in!"
"Andrea, I really wish I could, but I'm afraid I'm quite busy at the lab today!" The woman, who somehow doesn't look much older than the young girl, states apologetically.
"You know what a big day today is," the professor continues. "I'll just drop off the lucky parcel here!"
The girl's eyes gleam with anticipation as she takes the box. "Thanks so much, Professor! Now I just have to wait for the others..." They share a laugh.
"Alright kiddo, see you later!"
"Bye Professor!"
As soon as the door closes, Andrea immediately begins to dance and jump around the living room. Sensing commotion, her mother opens a sliding door, which leads to a backyard garden filled with her pokémon, and smiles at the image of her joyful daughter.
"Let me guess: The Professor came by."
"How did you know?" The girl retorts sarcastically and rushes over to hug her mom.
"Hey, remember to eat something, ok Andi?"
The girl raises her eyebrows. "That came out of nowhere."
"Andi, I mean it. I worry about you."
Andrea dramatically sighs, "I suppose…"
Her mother glares at her.
"What? I'm way too excited to have an appetite!"
"Well you gotta eat something sweetie," Her mother sighs, worry lining her features. Despite everything she has gone through, she somehow radiates youth and hope at the age of 35.
"Sure yeah, let me just finish packing my bag," Andrea mindlessly replies.
Minutes later, Andrea arrives downstairs with her stuffed backpack and rushes past the living room to the kitchen. She opens the fridge door, only to find everything unappetizing. She can feel her mother's eyes piercing into her soul, thus leading her to open the carton of milk and chug it.
"Andrea Marisol Whitelea! What have I told you about drinking milk from the carton?!"
Andrea simply smirks, the remnants of milk framing her youthful lips. "You said eat something." Her sock clad foot rubs against her opposite ankle as she tilts her head and tries to give her mom an award winning smile.
She only earns an exasperated sigh. "Sometimes I can't believe you're fifteen when you act like you're five."
"Oh come on! You know I can be mature when I want to be," The spritely girl plops onto the couch next to her mother. It's not long before she gets comfortable, with one leg sprawled across her mother's lap and the other on the coffee table.
She is surprised to find her mom watching something other than a cooking, interior design, or some other suburban housewife-esque show.
"Can you believe this?" Her mother asks no one in particular. "Radicals."
Andrea is suddenly inclined to pay attention to the newscast. Uniformed people stand on a podium whilst a man dressed in a strange robe preaches about pokémon liberation. The reporter, rather than interviewing the members of this eerily mysterious organization, asks the audience about their opinions of what the man was saying.
Many people question the mysterious man. Many people question themselves. But one man in particular stands out above them all, firmly set in his beliefs that trainers are detrimental to pokémon.
"You have to admit, he does have a point," Andrea states, innocently looking over to her mother with doe eyes.
Her mother scoffs. "You and your father."
A heavy silence follows their short, what Andrea expected to be, debate. Andrea abhors it so much she feels it of the utmost importance to break it.
"His hair is weird though." She isn't completely lying; the audience member's long green hair was arguably his most salient feature.
Her mother laughs. "Make sure your room is clean, ok? I don't want your friends seeing your pigsty of a room."
The door knocks.
"Speak of the devil," her mom says whilst turning off the television.
Andrea squeals and, unable to contain her excitement, jumps over the couch and runs toward the door.
"Andi! Sorry I'm early; I couldn't wait any longer!"
"Hey Hilbert!" She draws him into a bear hug.
"Hilbert, it's so nice to see you," Andrea's mom says just as they break their embrace. In response, Andrea shoots daggers at her mom, as if telling her to watch out. She doesn't notice Hilbert's flushed face.
Hilbert, Hilbert, Hilbert, with his mesmerizing brown eyes, wavy locks, and endless charm. Andrea found it hard not to have at least the slightest infatuation towards him.
"How have you been?" Andrea's mother continues, ignoring her daughter's warning glare.
Hilbert laughs sheepishly, sensing the tension between the two. "I've been pretty good, to say the least; I've been waiting my whole life for this day."
"I remember when I first embarked on my own journey..." She sighs, nostalgia lingering in the air. "Aww, you two are growing up so fast...gosh, you two just make the perfect pair, don't you-"
"MOM! I'm going to go upstairs and wait for the others with Hilbert!" Andrea hastily raises her voice to cover up her mom's statement. Hilbert's face is still flushed red.
Once they are up the stairs, Andrea's mom giggles to herself. "To be young again..."
"Wanna watch some TV? Kill some time?" Andrea asks, already searching for the remote.
Hilbert shrugs. "Sure, why not."
Andrea shamelessly chooses the channel infamous for its melodramatic romance television series. She keeps up with most of them.
Noticing that Hilbert seems unamused, she attempts to bring up a topic of conversation. "Did you see the news this morning?"
"No; did something weird happen?"
"Well, I guess. Just another one of those weird groups trying to fight for something, like those guys in Sinnoh a while back. They were talking about freeing Pokemon from trainers or something."
"Oh. That's strange."
"Yeah."
They vapidly stare at flashing images of campy and cliché love scenes on the television for a while.
"Hey, Andrea-"
There's a knock on the framework of Andrea's door. The two teens turn to a lanky, ebony haired boy. "I hope I'm not late."
"Oh hey Cheren," Andrea waves at him, "On time as always."
After nearly ten years of friendship, she knows better than to hug him or attempt any form of physical contact altogether. However, they weren't childhood friends in the traditional sense of the term; she only saw him every couple of years when his family would visit her family in Hoenn. Still, when she thinks of his determined cobalt eyes, she can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. It took her a while to get past his aloof exterior; sometimes, she still struggles with it. But she knows not to force her way closer to him by making him uncomfortable.
Unfortunately, not everyone is as aware of his awkwardness regarding "normal" reciprocation of affection.
"Yo, what's up," Hilbert says and pats his back. Cheren stiffens slightly, adjusts his glasses, and joins them on the floor.
"Not much. Looking forward to what's in store for us, though," Cheren answers. "By the way, Hilbert, it looked like you were about to tell Andi something."
"It's nothing important," he stammers.
Cheren gives him a look that screams 'we both know better,' which earns him a nudge in the ribcage from Hilbert. They continue to mindlessly watch the program.
"Let me guess. You're watching some gaudy show about pokémon trainers falling in love in order to fulfill your fantasies," Cheren teases in a patronizing manner.
Andrea's eyes don't stray from the television screen. She simply says, "Shut up."
"I didn't agree to this," Hilbert attests, clearly feeling the need to defend his masculinity.
"Whatever. I'm sure these shows are your guilty pleasures." Andrea retorts with a playful smirk.
"Contrary to popular belief, Andi, not everyone enjoys these types of shows. In fact, people who watch these shows most likely only do so because they wish to engage in catharsis. They yearn for their lives to be more akin to these ostentatious scenarios, but, since logically, they know they cannot be-"
"Chill," Hilbert interjects.
"Yeah Cheren. I don't even understand half of the things you're saying," Andrea chuckles, feeling that her remark was a necessary addition to their conversation.
That was a mistake on her part. Cheren went on to explain the meaning of catharsis and how it relates to his argument.
Andrea smirks. "Ok but my point is the same."
"And what would that be?" Cheren counters.
"You could have a guilty pleasure for these shows because of some repressed feelings you have regarding...well, romance." Andrea jeers.
"I-"
"Got 'im," Hilbert chimes in.
"By the way, where is Bianca?" Andrea directs her question towards Cheren.
"How should I know?" He retorts.
Hilbert and Andrea mischievously look at each other and burst into laughter. Cheren sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as if doing so could teleport him away to the quiet space of his book-filled room.
Suddenly, quick and clumsy footsteps are heard racing up the stairs.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry for being late!" A rosy voice exclaims.
Cheren shakily stands up to greet the owner of the voice. He smooths out his already impeccably ironed shirt.
"Drea, hey! Oh Cheren you're here!" A blonde girl beams as she quickly pulls him into an embrace.
"Of course I am, Bianca. Have I ever been late in the entirety of our friendship?"
Bianca releases him, eyes darting between his eyes and chest. "Well, no!"
Cheren blushes, hoping that his step back doesn't come off as an aloof action. Bianca seems unfazed.
"And honestly, of all the days to be late, you chose today..." Cheren sighs. "You do realize how important this is, right?"
"Of course I do! It's like, the most important day of our lives!" she exclaims. "I'm really really sorry. I had to convince my dad that—nevermind. I feel so bad..."
It was hard not to like Bianca. Despite her general flightiness, her positivity is like a ray of sunshine. Andrea finds her comparable to an angel with her pale skin, emerald eyes, and rosy cheeks. Her gentleness brings forth a new dimension and depth to people, and her quirky personality is a breath of fresh air. She simply exuberates all that is good.
"Hilbert, I'm surprised you came! Don't you already have a pokémon?" Bianca tilts her head.
"Yeah, but I want to be here when you guys choose your starters!" He responds.
"Well let's get to it, then!"
They all stand around the wrapped parcel in anticipation. Andrea grabs the envelope attached to it, opens it, and begins to read it aloud.
Andrea,
This parcel contains three pokémon, one for you and one for each of your friends. Please settle your choices politely.
The moment you choose the pokémon that will accompany you on your journey is when your story will truly begin. During your journey, you will meet many pokémon and people with different personalities and points of view! I really hope you find what is important to you in all of these travels. Befriend new people and pokémon and grow as a person! That is the most important goal for your journey!
Enjoy your pokémon!
Best wishes,
Prof. Juniper
"Aww, that was so sweet!" Bianca coos, hands clasped together as she rests her head on Cheren's shoulder. His body freezes at this, but he does nothing to push her away.
Andrea smiles at the note and then pockets it into her ragged jean shorts. She always felt there should be more to a journey than becoming the strongest trainer; in fact, she isn't even sure she wants to be a trainer! Andrea longs to explore the region, meet new people with new beliefs, and grow. She never dared share this with her mom, for she worries she would remind her of her father if she so much as questioned the morality of training pokémon.
The old man must've really rubbed off on me, Andrea thinks.
"Drea, you should be the first to pick your pokémon!" declares Bianca, "I mean, the package came to your house!"
"That would only make sense," Cheren agrees.
That being settled, Andrea releases the pokémon from their poké balls. The three small pokémon stand by each other. While they look at the small creatures, Cheren reads information about each pokémon from a booklet he got for his last birthday. The pokémon are not only different in their strengths and types, but each have their very own mannerisms and personalities, as Andrea observes.
More now than ever, Andrea sees them as equals; these little creatures have souls and experiences of their own. If there were ever a situation where she had to sacrifice herself for a pokémon she loved, she imagines she would. Pokémon do it for us all the time, she reasons.
"Now comes the hard part...choosing one."