1 – A Pure White Beginning

Milo heard the distant voice, and from what he could tell it was addressing him, but he couldn't force it to register in his mind.

"...sure to take as many potions as you can carry, yeah? You can never have too many, make sure you don't run out. And antidotes -"

The colored labels of all the spray bottles in front of him swam and blended together into a rainbow of medicine he suddenly felt under-qualified to use. A pang of fear stabbed through his stomach. His mother didn't seem to notice.

"-antidotes, of course, don't want to get caught without those," she continued, reaching past his head to retrieve a gold bottle and bringing his attention back to the present.

"Antidotes," Milo echoed absently. "Right."

"You certainly are out of it this morning," his mother remarked without looking away from the shelves. Being the manager of the Viridian City Pokémart must have had its advantages for her, Milo realized – not only did she know exactly where everything was, but she also had an idea of how much other new trainers usually bought from her, being at the starting point of most of their journeys. Not to mention being able to fund the first leg of her son's own Pokémon journey for the low, low cost of free.

She ruffled his hair as she added, "Don't let Professor Oak see you like this. He might give you a Slowpoke to match."

Milo grumbled half a retort as she walked away to grab as much Pokémon repellant as she could hold, too absorbed in his fears and daydreams to form a coherent sentence. It was true that the day found him more frazzled than usual. The days before had passed with little fanfare, and even this, the morning of the day he was set to receive his start Pokémon from Professor Samuel Oak, was uneventful. But the closer the time came to leaving home on his own, the more terrifying the scenarios that ran through his head became. He was now up to being trampled by a rampaging Snorlax the minute he step foot out of Pallet Town.

As he turned to follow his mother to the counter where she stood, Milo stumbled over someone significantly smaller than himself. A small gift stared back up at him, no more than seven, her pigtails sticking out from her head at awkward angles. They shared a few moments of silence before she asked, "Aren't you too old for that?"

"Er," Milo said. "What?"

"Aren't you too old to start a Pokémon journey?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you. You're old. Too old," the girl replied with her hands on her hips.

Milo felt his face redden and burn in annoyance. "I'm only nineteen!"

She gasped. "You could be my granddad!"

Silence.

"You're supposed to be a Pokémon master before you get old."

Milo scowled. His eye twitched slightly as the girl's father came, apologizing, to retrieve her. It was true, he was willing to admit, that he was starting out much later than most other Pokémon trainers, but "better late than never" his mother had said, and who was to say he wouldn't succeed? He hadn't been able to leave home before, but now seemed as good a time as any to set out and make a name for himself. To finally be good at something. Maybe even great.

He finally regained his senses enough to make his way to the front of the store where his mother waited. They joked together as they packed the last of his new belongings into his backpack; she reminded him, giggling, to shower as often as he could remember without her guidance. Zipping up the last compartment of the bag, she sighed and looked at her son.

"Take care of your father's Growlithe, okay?" she said, motioning towards the small Pokéball attached to Milo's belt. He nodded once.

"And... take care of yourself," she added. Her eyes began to tear up, and she put her hand on Milo's cheek. "Please. Be careful."

"Please. Be okay."

"I'll be fine," Milo said, rolling his eyes. "I'm grown."

He felt the warm hand on his cold cheek, and heard the tears hitting the pillow beside his head. He hated when she did that. The wet pillow made his neck itch. He managed a small nod and liked his lips before whispering, "I'm trying."

"Try harder. Okay? Because I can't... lose anyone else. Okay? Try harder. You have to be okay. Please."

Another nod. Her crying always made him more tired, but it was the only way he saw her anymore.

"Try your hardest," Milo's mother said, "but be careful. You can always come home." She kissed his forehead, shakily wiped away the tears that had been threatening to spill over. She checked her watch, and Milo noticed her eyes widen slightly.

"We need to go," she said, taking up her keys as he took his bag.

"What time is it?"

"We'll be a little late getting to Pallet Town," his mother said, not quite answering the question, "but I'll drive fast. It'll be fine, you won't miss a thing."

Good, not too late, Milo thought thankfully as he slipped into Professor Oak's laboratory, trying to make a little noise as possible.

As the door clicked shut, a voice whispered behind him. "Half an hour late to your first day as a trainer? Not a good start, is it?" Milo spun to see a tall, scrawny man in thick glasses and a white coat; he guessed the man was one of Oak's lab aides.

"Sorry," he muttered, feeling his cheeks flush. He scooted himself further into the lab before the aide could respond.

There were already about twenty people in the lab. Most looked to be around Milo's age, late teens or early twenties, although one man near the front of the crowd had to be at least in his fifties. Some of the people were sitting, some standing, but all were listening with rapt attention to the Pokémon Professor.

"...will not be easy. You will face many trials and challenges, and at times you may feel like giving up," Oak was saying to the quiet group. "However, the joys of raising, strengthening and caring for your new Pokémon will more than make up for it in the end. Now let's go! A world of dreams and adventures with Pokémon awaits!"

The crowd applauded lightly as the professor stepped aside. His aide drew their attention towards the door, announcing, "Alright, trainers! You have all the information you need to begin your journeys. In a few minutes, you will be called forward to choose your starter Pokémon and receive your Pokédex. Please make yourselves comfortable outside while you wait to hear your name..."

Milo looked around in panic at the other trainers collecting their things and filing out of the room. Had he really missed every word, every instruction Oak had given to the new trainers? Could he maybe find Oak, ask for a private repetition... of the entire half-hour speech? Milo shook his head; he knew right away how ridiculous that idea was. Maybe he could just pretend he already knew everything he needed to know. Training couldn't be that difficult, could it? Ten-year-olds started all the time.

His mind reeling, Milo caught his reflection in the window. He felt something must have changed now that he was almost officially a Pokémon trainer – his unassuming face should be tougher, his wide blue eyes should be ablaze with a champion's bravery, his silver hair should be flying dramatically in the wind as though he carried a fan at all times. But his eyes were still the childlike blue saucers they had always been. He still looked young for his age, and his hair still fell limply in front of his eyes. Nothing about him screamed hero.

Milo tore his gaze away from the window. Grabbing his bag, he started to follow the crowd, tripping slightly on his long pants legs. He frowned as he realized his status as a new trainer also did nothing to help his lack of coordination.

The professor's aides called names and checked off lists on clipboards while Milo stepped outside. Last name, first name. One by one, people stepped inside and emerged moments later as trainers, looking positively elated at their choice of starter Pokémon, clutching their new Pokéballs as though they had found long-lost treasure. Last name, first name.

Milo sat alone on a bench near the lab entrance. His stomach felt funny.

While he waited, Milo pulled a crumpled and torn pamphlet from his pocket and skimmed it idly. LIVE YOUR OWN POKEMON ADVENTURE! it declared in big, bold letters on the cover. On the inside, the words Be a Pokémon master! arced over the picture of a smiling Pikachu.

Milo had been very lucky to find this program. One meant for people who, for whatever reason, were a bit late in starting their Pokémon journeys, who hadn't been able to join their young peers in traveling before they were teenagers. It made it easier to know that he wouldn't be the only one to lose to a couple of kids. His mother had left the leaflet on his desk along with a note asking him to "please think about this wonderful opportunity, and don't forget to go to the market for me later."

He didn't need to think about it at all. To be a master trainer, able to command any of the strongest Pokémon and to rise above any challenge – who needed to think about that?

"Amazing, isn't it?" a voice rang out next to him. Milo jumped. No one had been near him, he had thought, but the boy sitting next to him rested as though he'd been there forever.

"Uh... I'm sorry, what's amazing?" Milo asked. The boy responded with an unsettling, lopsided smile.

"This! What Oak is doing!" he said, his pink hair flying in all directions and his bright purple eyes brimming with anticipation. "The opportunity to travel around the world, catching Pokémon, picking berries, exploring ruins..."

"Ruins?"

Milo eyed this boy suspiciously, his glance moving from his bright hair and wide eyes down to his mismatched clothes: oranges clashed with bright blues and lime greens. A miniature Onix plush, tied into a precarious knot, served as his ill-fitting belt. All the vivid colors and patterns of his outfit made Milo a bit uneasy.

"You have Pokémon already?" he asked, pointing at the 'belt' from which two Pokéballs dangled. The boy nodded proudly, and his hair swayed with the breeze.

"But... this program is only for first-time trainers." Milo was a bit irritated (who was this boy to have such an advantage over the other trainers before their journeys even began?) until he remembered the lone Pokéball dangling from his own belt.

The boy only nodded again.

"So, uh... what's your name?" Milo asked, attempting to hide his annoyance, but the pink-haired boy didn't seem to hear him. Instead, he stared blankly at the sky; you could see the clouds reflected in his eyes. Milo sighed. Of course he wouldn't get an answer.

"March, Milo!"

He jumped again, and all the fears of the past few days came rushing back at once. Grateful for a reason to leave the strange boy, Milo stood.

"Well, it was, er, nice to meet you," he muttered, walking away. The boy didn't acknowledge him, but asked, still watching the clouds, if Milo thought Dragonites liked cherri berries.

Milo reached the laboratory door and his stomach did a few somersaults. Here he was, getting ready to start the adventure of his life, and it would all start with one choice. One choice could decide his whole future.

As he reached for the handle, the door swung open, nearly hitting him in the nose. A figure swept past, tall and graceful, unaware of the damage almost done to his face. There was a rustle of a long skirt, a whiff of flowers from long auburn hair. Milo spun around, flustered.

"Sitara?"

The girl turned as well, and her skirt billowed and fluttered around her. "Milo, hey!" Sitara smiled brightly. "I didn't know you'd be here, too. I haven't seen you since school ended! How are you?"

"I-I, um, fine. Fine." Milo suddenly found it impossible to make eye contact. "I'm fine. You?"

"Great!" She held up a Pokéball; there was a bright green sticker in the shape of a leaf on it. "Starting out with a new Pokémon, my new Bulbasaur. This is going to be so much fun. Which one are you going to pick, Milo?"

"Oh! Um, well..."

He truthfully hadn't thought too much about it. In all the excitement, every daydream about his travels had had a different Pokémon in it. "I-I actually already kinda have one, but, um-"

"March, Milo!" Oak's aide appeared at the door again, his index finger only inches away and pointed at Milo's face. "You. Are you Milo?"

Milo nodded. Gesturing weakly at Sitara, he stammered, "I – just talking-" Great. There went his ability to form coherent sentences again, as well.

"Come on, then, we can't wait all day," the aide said abruptly, striding back into the lab.

Sitara grinned and pointed at the door. "Go! You can't start a Pokémon journey without a Pokémon."

Smiling apologetically, Milo waved to her and followed the aide inside. The whole laboratory was white and sterile; he was afraid to touch anything for fear of ruining an experiment or accidentally unleashing a mutant Pokémon into the world. Complex-looking machines lined the walls, their lights blinking and their fans whirring, and thick books were piled onto every table. Milo idly thought they'd make good stepladders. Across the room, Professor Oak was laughing at a videophone screen with a young boy in a red cap on it.

The aide crossed something off of his clipboard as they stopped in front of a table. On it stood three nondescript Pokéballs, each on its own platform. "So?"

"So?"

"So which one do you choose?" the aide asked impatiently, tapping his pen on the clipboard.

"I don't get to talk to Professor Oak first?"

"The professor is a very busy man," the aide said. "He doesn't have time to talk to every trainer that comes through here." Milo heard Oak laugh again in the background.

"Oh," he said.

The two stared at each other for a few moments before the aide sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, kid, I'm going to need you to choose a Pokémon. There are still eight people after you who would probably like to get one today."

"Um, well..." Milo's mind raced. This could be the most important decision he would ever make. Oak's assistant should have some sympathy for that, right? Finally, he settled on his choice. "I think a Staryu would be the perfect Pokémon for me!" he yelled, making a triumphant fist.

"Haha," the aide said dryly; he did not look at all amused. "Kid, were you not listening to anything Oak said? Three choices: Bulbasaur, Charmander, Squirtle. That's it. Choose one before I choose for you."

"Oh," Milo said again. For a split second, he was crushed: the perfect Pokémon, shot down completely. But he recovered just as quickly. Those three weren't so bad, after all, and they all evolved into awesome Pokémon. With the tapping of the pen to the clipboard as the rhythm, Milo played the quickest, most silent game of Eenie Meenie Minie Mo he had ever played. Closing his eyes, he answered.

"Squirtle. I'll choose Squirtle."

"Finally." The aide grabbed the Pokéball furthest to the right and shoved it into Milo's outstretched hands, along with a shiny red contraption the size of a cell phone. "Here's your new Pokédex, congratulations on your new Pokémon, I'm sure you'll become the best of friends, blah blah. Good luck, kid. I get the feeling you're going to need it."

Milo did his best to ignore this comment. The next name was called as he reached the front door ("Ocean, Jimmy" – wonder what this one was going to pick). What did it matter what this guy said? Suddenly, Milo was the most powerful man in the world, able to take on any challenge and overcome any barrier. Because now he had his first – well, second – Pokémon, and nothing could get in his way.

As he left, he found Sitara sitting on the ground near the door, absently examining a leaf. "Hey," he greeted her again. "Were you going to go back and ask them a question or something? You may not want to, that guy was a real jerk."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really? He was really nice to me."

Milo shifted uncomfortably.

"Actually," Sitara continued, "I did want to ask a question, but to you." She suddenly looked as pink as Milo felt he must look around her. "Um… well, since we're both just starting out, you know, and I'd expect a journey around the world has gotta get, well, kinda lonely sometimes…" The leaf twirled with a new nervous intensity between her fingers. "And I figure, we already know each other from school, so it's better than going with strangers…"

Milo hung on every rambled word.

"So maybe we could… I mean, I could… accompany you on your travels?" she finished breathlessly.

He blinked and found he needed no time to think it over. "Of course! Of course, we can go together!"

He blinked again. They both blushed deeper at the words.

"I mean, not go together," Milo spluttered. "But go. Together. On a journey. Yeah. That'd be amazing."

"Great, I'll go, too!" a voice that was not Sitara's said. Milo turned and jumped again. A mane of pink hair appeared beneath his nose.

"Kio? What are you doing here?" Sitara asked. Milo gaped at her.

"You know him?" he asked, pointing at the boy who stared serenely over their heads.

"He was a year above us in school. Blew up the science wing the year he graduated."

"That was him? I got out of Pokébiology for a week because of that."

"Yep, that was me," Kio said proudly, slinging a knapsack over his shoulder, "and I would be honored to be associated with your ragtag team of travelers."

Sitara and Milo exchanged a sideways glance. If ever Milo were to develop telepathy, now would be the perfect time; he practically yelled his thoughts to her. This guy can't go with us! Not when it was just going to be the two of us. He can't ruin that…

"Don't you… need to get a Pokémon first?" Sitara asked. Milo's internal pleas turned to a string of no, no, no, no. "I mean, you haven't been called yet, have you?"

"Oh, I'm not here to pick a starter," Kio said, motioning to the Pokéballs fastened to his Onix-belt. "I visit Oak's lab whenever there's a new group of trainers starting out. I just love watching the looks on their faces. So exciting, huh?"

Kio looked back and forth between Milo and Sitara's speechless faces. "You two, especially. You looked ecstatic. Which is why I choose to trek with you. I need trainer companions who are passionate about their craft."

No, you need companions who aren't us. "I just think that the two of us -"

"We'll be happy to have you," Sitara said warmly. Milo's face dropped; Kio's brightened.

"Great, then we're ready!"

Milo stammered, but Kio was already jogging up the road, a lively smile on his face.

Sitara turned her pale green eyes from Kio to Milo and shrugged. "More the merrier. He'll… make it fun, at least?" she offered. When he said nothing, she grabbed his wrist and started to drag him along the road as well. "Come on. We'll start on our way to Viridian this afternoon, stock up on everything we need at the Pokémart there. Then… well, who knows after then?"

Milo grinned in spite of their new companion. He had a new journey ahead of him, and someone to take that journey with: the girl he'd had his eye on through countless days of classes, the girl who somehow caused every room to smell of fresh linens and flowers…

"Hurry up!" Kio yelled from in front of them. "I need to buy some Clefairy dolls to leave in Viridian Forest. Kakuna like dolls, they need some fun in their lives..."

The sun beat down on the limits of Pallet Town and glittered in the leaves of the trees on the horizon ahead. Milo adjusted his backpack and wiped the sweat off his forehead. Of course he had to pick a ridiculously hot day to carry ridiculously heavy pack. He scowled at the sun.

Sitara sat in the grass behind him, rearranging the last of her supplies in her bag. Her hair was loosely tied up with an olive ribbon to match the skirt splayed out around her, and the curls that escaped framer her face as she called out to Milo. "You know, we haven't properly said hello to our new Pokémon!"

He realized she was right. "I haven't even seen Squirtle yet," he said. "The Pokéball could be empty for all I know." Taking the Pokéball from his pocket, he pressed the white button to enlarge it; she did the same.

"Squirtle, go!"

"Go, Bulbasaur!"

There were two jets of red light, and Bulbasaur and Squirtle appeared in front of their trainers. Squirtle inched up to Milo with an inquisitive look on its face. "Hi, Squirtle," Milo said, kneeling and cautiously extending a hand towards his new Pokémon. "I'm Milo. I'm your new trainer."

Squirtle looked at his hand suspiciously.

"It's nice to meet you!" he said through a forced smile.

Squirtle took a step backwards.

Glancing up from Squirtle, Milo saw Sitara hugging Bulbasaur. It extended its vines and seemed to hug her back. They both looked positively elated. Milo sighed.

Squirtle lost interest in its strange new owner and wandered towards Kio, who was in the process of feeding his own Pokémon. Farfetch'd and Butterfree flew around, waiting as Kio poured food into small bowls.

"Lunchtime, guys!" Kio said. "Squirtle and Bulbasaur, you're welcome, too!" There were sounds of glee as the Pokémon all flew and trotted towards Kio. Squirtle gave Kio's arm an affectionate nudge before burying its face in a bowl of pellets.

Milo sat in the warm dirt, defeated. He hadn't done anything wrong, right? Especially nothing for Squirtle to hate him so soon. And yet Squirtle seemed to resent having him as a trainer, and it had liked Kio so fast…

He felt Sitara's skirt and a cool breeze brush his arm as she knelt next to him. They watched the Pokémon eat in silence for a while before she said, "It's okay. Sometimes it takes a while for Pokémon to get used to their new trainers. I'm sure it'll warm up to you soon enough."

Milo said nothing. He felt a twinge of jealousy for the girl who had gotten a hug from the Pokémon she had just met that morning.

"I heard that Ketchum kid's Charizard even tried to kill him a few times," Sitara offered after a little while longer, sensing that her attempts to make her friend feel better weren't working. She frowned when Milo didn't laugh, and the two of them watched the Pokémon eat for a while longer.

"Hey, we should have a battle, huh?" she asked suddenly. "Our first one ever! Maybe when Squirtle sees what a good trainer you are, it'll respect you more."

Milo felt the tops of his ears burning. Sitara thought he was a good trainer? "Maybe. But are you sure -"

Before he could finish his question, she stood and ran a few yards away from Milo. "Bulbasaur, come on!" she called. "We're gonna show Milo here how it's done!"

"Um – you, too, Squirtle!" Milo tried to tack a commanding edge to his voice. "Time to battle!"

"I wouldn't do that," Kio said in a sing-songy voice. Milo pointedly ignored him.

Squirtle and Bulbasaur both stood in front of their trainers, poised for battle. Bulbasaur's vines slithered just outside of its bulb. "Ladies first!" Milo yelled to his adversary.

Thirty seconds later, Sitara was kneeling on the ground over Squirtle, who was trembling half in fear and half in pain. "Oh, I knew that would be too much," she groaned, spraying a potion on it. "Oh, I'm sorry, Squirtle, I didn't mean to hurt you…"

Milo stood in shock, watching Sitara take care of his Pokémon. "I lost," he said faintly.

"You beyond lost," Kio piped up happily. "You were destroyed! It was like watching a Snorlax sit on a Caterpie."

Milo silently watched as Sitara finished spraying the potion and patted his Squirtle on its head. Squirtle nudged her hand in thanks and glared at Milo before returning to its food bowl. Eyes pointed at the ground, Milo turned back towards Pallet Town and started walking.

"Hey, where are you going?" Sitara asked. Milo couldn't stand the pity in her voice.

"There's something I forgot to take care of in town," he said, not stopping or looking back. "I'll be back soon. We can leave for Viridian City when I get back. I'll only be a minute."

As he walked away, he heard Kio say, "We should just go. He's not coming back."

Milo found himself walking all the way back to Professor Oak's lab. He sat cross-legged on a bench underneath the front window, gritting his teeth. My first battle, he thought bitterly, and I lost within a minute. Did I pick the wrong Pokémon? Or maybe…

Maybe I'm just not cut out for this.

The thought struck him like a brick, and he almost didn't notice the window banging open behind his head. He looked up and saw Oak's aide staring back at him.

"You again, kid? You came back already?" The aide shook his head disapprovingly. "Even quicker than I thought. You know, kid, with all the new trainers that come through here, I can usually tell who's going to make it and who won't.

"Maybe you should just go home."

The words hung in the air as the window shut again, leaving Milo more dejected than before.

Had he made a mistake, trying to be like his dad? He knew talent didn't run in families, but it seemed impossible that he hadn't inherited at least a bit of his father's. Taking his Pokéball from his pouch, Milo hesitated before releasing the Pokémon inside.

"Hey, Growlithe," he said sadly, scratching the dog-like Pokémon behind the ears. "Hope you couldn't hear what happened in there."

Growlithe tilted its head inquisitively. The bell on its maroon collar tinkled. "Growl?"

The feel of Growlithe's fur running through his fingers comforted Milo. He felt his muscles relaxing and the faintest trace of a smile on his face. "You don't need to know. Just… Dad had it all mixed up. He gave you to me for me to watch you. I really think you're going to have to help me."

Growlithe licked his face in response, and Milo laughed in spite of himself.

"We're gonna go," he explained, kneeling so that his face was only a foot away from Growlithe's, "on a trip. A long one. We won't be home for a while. We have people to go with, though, so that's good. And maybe we'll find Dad, who knows?"

Milo paused a while before continuing. "But I do know, when this is all over – everyone in Kanto will know who we are."

Growlithe licked his face again; apparently Milo's plan sounded like a good one.

"Come on," Milo said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "We're gonna get started."