Were those eyes human? Were they REAL? Lyra thought and glared up at the lab's high window. She searched for the pair of menacing eyes which had since vanished.

Elm, startled by the girl's horrific yell, had nearly fallen over. "What? What is it?" he asked, still jittery.

"Fa, face," Lyra babbled stupidly, trying to communicate. "Face. A face." She tilted back her head and snapped her teeth of few times—supposedly to imitate the imaginary creature she had seen.

"Ahh. OK." Elm laughed in a joshing manner, picking up her fallen pokedex. "Maybe you should go home and tell your mom the EXCITING news?" He checked the device for damages before handing it back. "And to rest your head a bit." I think you need it! he added mentally.

"Kay, thanks, bye." Lyra hurried, running for the door—her fitful new pal, Cyndaquil, slinking a safe distance behind.

The door slammed shut and the lab filled with silence. In this uncomfortable atmosphere, Elm's assistant—the young nerdy scientist—felt brave enough to question his superior about all of what'd gone on. "Don't you feel bad about," he began, "basically treating her as Crystal No. 2?"

"Don't put it so crudely," Elm said (and with the sort of blind pride best suited for parents). "Crystal is her own person!"

"What an inglorious fate..."

Wind rustled through the bordering evergreen trees, rattling their boughs and dancing their shadows across the warm earth. Lyra, hiding in the shade of the lab's left corner, hung there indecisively, still attempting to muster enough courage to investigate the area beyond.

Those eyes appeared from the window behind here, Lyra thought. It must've been a pokemon! She was sure of it. Its presence felt crazy powerful. Could it be a legendary pokemon? Should I capture it? Her body sweated from the prospect of such a mind-blowing encounter.

"But what if it's just a peeping tom?" Lyra then said. "Heh. Elm must be pretty popular." She nodded at this. Watching her, Cyndaquil tilted his head in confusion. "Whatever it is, it's a worthy fight!" Lyra jumped and clenched her fists. "Listen up! We must face off in the face of that face's appearance, for that is how one faces things." She crossed her arms at this, miraculously commanding Cyndaquil's stunned attention. "Never be afraid of anything and CONFRONT the peeping tom, slash, legendary pokemon, full on, head on—" And at that, Lyra flung herself around the corner and collided, face-first, into a mass of purple. Her wishes were thereby fulfilled—literally.

"—Oof!" Lyra fell backwards, landing on her hands and bottom. "Nads," she groused, shaking dirt from her injured hands. Noticing the shadowy figure standing over her, she raised her head and saw him: a pale boy with long, red hair and sharp, menacing eyes. He was undeniably the one who had peered in through the lab window earlier.

That's no pokemon! Lyra realized, overcoming her speechlessness. "...Faaace!" she yelled readily, pointing at him. Cyndaquil squealed in agreement.

"You!" the boy blurted, grabbing Lyra's mouth and shoving her flat on her back. Such violence.

"Mmf," Lyra let out and struggled in the dirt. Breaking free from the boy's grip, she shimmied away with four-legged expertise—much like a Krabby or some sort of undead creature (or maybe both)!

Gasping for breath, Lyra cautiously watched the boy in disbelief. What a death grip. His hands were strangely cold and clammy! she thought. Grossed out by this abrupt thought, she rolled over on her hands and knees and spat—gagging and nearly barfing in the process.

The boy narrowed his eyes at her. Does this rube actually think I'm DIRTY? he wondered in insult, automatically inspecting his hands. Catching himself in this uncool act, he balled his hands into fists instead and huffed snappishly. "So this is the famous Elm Pokemon Lab... Tch. What a disappointment," he sounded off. "I can't believe I snuck all the way to this podunk, backwater crap hole just to be caught by some child."

Lyra ceased her spitting and looked him over. Tightening her eyebrows in full concentration—and moving her head from side to side like a metronome—she puffed out her cheeks and conducted her study in silence.

"...What are you staring at?" The boy frowned, perturbed by Lyra's unorthodox gawking.

"He's a spy!" Lyra said and pointed at him, an announcement which made him flinch. "A paid snoop sent by a rival to glom the competitor's edge." She decided he had this unlikely profession—or something like it—even though she identified him being no older than herself.

"Humph. I see you're as stupid as you look." The boy craned his neck and gave Lyra a downward stare, which was his signature scary-thug look. "Are you going to run to your precious professor to tattle on me now? Go ahead... Such tactics are used by the weak, anyway." Disregarding her, he walked over her legs, as if she were a mere pile of trash, and left.

Stewing in the vile atmosphere left by the boy, Lyra violently rubbed at her mouth just to remove the boy's icy, lingering touch. What! Dissing me, and even Elm's lab! she thought, overflowing with outrage. What did he expect to find here, MONATERS? A GRADUATE SCHOOL? So is he a spy or not? One should be clearer about these things! What a...

"–WHAT A JERKFACE," she blasted—her voice piercing the sky.

They would be seeing each other again soon. Very soon.

Coming home, Lyra let Cyndaquil into the house and paused in the middle of the beaten old dining room to wait for her mother.

Lyra's mother pulled away from the counter when she noticed the girl. "Hey! I just put the finishing touch on some cupcakes," she said, shoving a plate of the lightly frosted treats at her. "Have some!"

"Hmmm. Thank you," Lyra said, taking one bite before swallowing immediately. Eating quickly was crucial for enjoying desserts made from musty old bulk-bought flour.

"Oh yeah, the Moomoo Milk arrived while you were gone, so you can start delivering now," her mom said. "The owners said something about their Milktank getting sick and deliveries stopping, so... You might have to search for another side job in the meantime."

"Gh, about that job," Lyra stuttered, placing her cupcake on the table.

"Yes?"

"I'm leaving." She grasped her hat at this proclamation. "To become a pokemon trainer!"

Wide-eyed, her mom jolted and stumbled backwards, her dessert plate crashing to the ground.

"Uagh! Mom! Are you ok?" Lyra cried, catching her near-fainted mother.

"Just, just do what you can, baby"—Mom said and hyperventilated—"I'll be fine alone, there's a castle... I can see bright, tiny lights!"

"W-what the! Snap out of it!" Lyra shook her furiously. "Stop freaking me out, you crazy woman!"

"Lyra! You... you wish to leave me too?" her mom cried, milking the moment for all it was worth. "Why?... Don't I... Don't I make good enough food for you?"

Lyra's mouth became a flat line. "Mom." She stopped. "I'm sorry, but there's an upside to all this, so listen." Lyra forcefully sat her mother upright. "We must be adults here!"

The woman gawked at the ceiling in a daze, seemingly ignoring her daughter's instruction.

"Mom. Professor Elm said." Lyra paused. "He said that trainers earn around ten-million pokedollars a year."

The woman instantly regained strength. "Oh?" she sang, springing to her feet. "Then you shouldn't be wasting any more time! I'll deliver the milk today~"

Lyra sweated at this sudden display of liveliness. "That was... a fast recovery."

"And I just came up with a great idea, baby! How about I help save your money? It'll be like a savings account, every time you earn a little, you can send some back to me. Right?" Her mom rushed enthusiastically.

"Of... of course." Lyra nodded. "I was already thinking along the same lines."

"Alright, so I'll see you later. Work hard you two!" Mom smiled, bending down and patting Cyndaquil on the head before rushing to grab the milk crates. She barreled out the door, holding the large stack all by herself.

"Mom is truly a soul ruled by material things," Lyra stated.

Ever so quiet, Cyndaquil hunched his small shoulders and worried intensely about this family and his own future in it.

"Ok, Cyndaquil. It's all on us. So. You wanna give this thing a shot?" Lyra asked, looking down at him.

He gave a noncommittal grunt: "Nnd..." Right now, he didn't want to do anything but find a safe hole to crawl into.

Lyra peered down at him and folded her arms. "I won't force you... but I'll beg you." She knelt down. "I need your help. I need you. To win every battle along the way—to rake in the dough—because if we can do that, then we can live posh for the rest of our lives," she said. "The best foods! The best fashion! The good life!" Standing and snatching her cupcake from the table, Lyra presented it to Cyndaquil, urging him to take a bite. "Because, you see, nothing in this world is gained without giving up sweat! Sweat makes it happen! Sweat! Miracles! Sweat!"

Chewing the cupcake, Cyndaquil's mouth wobbled from the taste, in effect making him wonder if it WAS made from sweat. However, what Lyra did next buffeted him with surprise. Taking the cupcake back, she stuffed it into her mouth at once—chewing and swallowing it in one go.

"This is our oath," Lyra blazoned, tipping her hat; "No going back on your word! We're LIFE partners, now."

Cyndaquil studied his trainer, his feelings deeply moved by her actions. For a human to so readily eat something that a pokemon's mouth had touched... This human seemed different from the breeders who raised him and even the professor who had once studied him. This girl was...

Admittedly off her rocker.

"Come on," Lyra said, staring at the front door intensely. "Let's move before mom changes her mind. It's time to go. It's time to burn out and leave it all behind. It's time to live!"

Cyndaquil followed her through the threshold outside—and as soon as they arrived, Lyra froze. She thought she heard someone calling her over the whistling breeze and the rattling windmill overhead.

"Hey, Lyra!" a boy's voice rang out from across the street.

Searching, Lyra spotted her childhood friend, Ethan, standing in the distance. He was holding down his black and gold baseball cap as it threatened to fly off in the breeze. Grinning, he stopped and waited, his little blue Marill bounding toward Lyra with a springy tail that audibly shook with each step.

Cyndaquil, alarmed by this new pokemon's appearance, stiffened—his back snapping up new flames like a lighter.

"Ethan?" Lyra said, surprised that he was going out of his way to speak with her NOW, of all times. Though Ethan was her childhood friend, she had stopped hanging out with him three years prior for his sake—and especially Crystal's. Because after Dad's accident, everything was exposed, Lyra thought, all my family's troubles and background. So I distanced myself from others. So that no one would get drawn into it all. So I'd stop being a bad influence on those two...

Cutting their ties. It was a regrettable necessity, one that hindered their childhood friendship. Because in that town, Lyra was widely regarded as trash.

Still beaming with mirth, Ethan ran and stopped a ways before Lyra—almost as if he were aware of the social barrier placed around her. "Ha! You got a pokemon now?" he asked, his gaze steadier than she remembered it. "That's pretty cool."

"Yes," Lyra replied shortly, turning her back on him. "And I'm leaving this town for awhile." She pulled at her hat brim all dramatically. "So you'll need to protect it in my place." A single tear rolled down her cheek. But then it was pulled back in by her extremely dry eyes.

"So I've heard," Ethan answered. "You're really going to become a pokemon trainer? That's pretty tough. Don't push yourself too hard. You do have limits you know." Despite the rudeness of his words, he genuinely sounded concerned.

Lyra couldn't help but chuckle at his audacity. "Heh! Those are some cheeky words, coming from a flat-backed stumblebum like yourself," she said, proudly bringing up their childhood games, but only to suppress him. "I bet I could still wrestle you to the ground, making you cry delicious tears of ENDLESS DEFEAT."

"Hey. I... that," he stammered and scratched at his cheek, haunted by this truth. "Let's not fight like this before you depart, ok?"

"Ora! Then let's fight another way," she said, lifting her head high. "Your Marill, against my Cyndaquil. Right here, right now. Let's go!"

"Come on!" Ethan held up his hands. "Marill's not a fighter."

"What?!" Lyra jumped. "Marill has a type-advantage over Cyndaquil. Water against fire? You could have this battle in the bag!"

Ethan looked at Marill and saw him nod. "Ok. But if you lose," Ethan began, "you have to stay here in New Bark Town and help me with my housekeeping service."

"What? That's ridiculous!" Lyra yelled. "Why would you demand such an incredibly high stake?"

Ethan closed his eyes, shrugged, and disapprovingly shook his head. "Giving up already?" he asked, egging her on. "If it helps any, know that you're also welcome to make up your own ridiculous terms. That's how it usually works, right?"

Lyra braced herself at this challenge. "Ok, fine! If I win, you have to give me my first battle earnings," she exclaimed; "and also, you have to take care of my mom while I'm gone and visit her every single day!"

"Then it's a bet." Ethan grinned confidently, pointing forth. "Marill, attack Cyndaquil. Roll Out!" Marill pulled his tiny limbs in and spin-dashed at Cyndaquil—instantly ramming the fire starter and sending him flying. As Cyndaquil hit the earth and rolled, he cried out—a dirt cloud rising in his wake.

"Cyndaquil!" Lyra called, clenching her fists tight. "Cyndaquil, it's tough for a beginner, but don't give up!"

"Your Cyndaquil can barely stand," Ethan said without any surprise. "Looks like it's over before it even began. I guess this means we're going to be spending a lot of time together from now on!" He grinned. "Just like old times."

Lyra sweated. Ethan certainly had a way of putting dark truths into happy terms. "No... No way. Get up, Cyndaquil!" she spat, her panic showing in her tensed-up form. "We haven't even begun our journey yet! Show me that burning spirit, remember our unstoppable oath. We're... we're brothers now, remember!"

Ethan blanched. "B-brothers?!" he repeated. "Was there something I missed?!"

Cyndaquil twitched to face her.

"Hmm! Life partner... brother!" Lyra said. "A new world awaits us out there. So let's burn out and leave it all behind. Let's live... While facing off in the face of danger, because that's how one faces things. Full on. Head on!" With trembling hands, Lyra tugged on her hat as she spoke from the heart (and with a straight face, amazingly). "Because from now on, alongside you, I want to confront our fears, refusing to be fearful, because that's what being fearsome even means... Can't you feel what I'm saying? I really want to see... that blinding future ignited by your flames!"

Roused by this redundant but heroic speech, Cyndaquil raised himself back up on all fours—even though his limbs were wobbling from the heavy damage sustained from the attack. Somehow, he was starting to see a glimmer of what that promised blinding future could be. The future which Lyra believed resided inside of him. The unknown future inside his small, frightened body.

"No way! You're going to make him keep battling?" Ethan said, perturbed by their incredible will to fight. "He can barely keep up with you!"

"When we first met, Cyndaquil completely baked me," Lyra said, her face glistening from the extreme memory. "His tenacity alighted me to the core. And in that fateful moment, his burning spirit awakened my adherence to his success. His energy showed me, he's no ordinary fighter! With his intensity, he has the power to defeat everyone and anyone. All over the world." Lyra swore in conviction: "Simply put... he's completely awesome."

Hearing her words, Cyndaquil's eyes gleamed with determination.

"So you understand?" Lyra asked Cyndaquil, their eyes meeting and their will synchronizing; flames burned behind those sparkling, soulful windows. "Then like a coal that's kicked out of humiliation, bounce back and become a diamond! Dreams that come true instantly aren't really dreams! You get to burning!"

In a flashing burst of intense heat, flames jumped from Cyndaquil's back and burnt up the air around him—alighting the particles kicked up in the blaze and quickly turning everything black. This was the ignition of their unbelievable future.

Coughing frantically, Ethan winced his eyes and stammered: "S-smokescreen? Marill... keep rolling out!"

Concentrating on Marill and Cyndaquil's off-the-scouter battle auras, Lyra sensed the foe in the darkness in relation to her partner's. "Cyndaquil! Remember what I told you about facing our fears! Trust in me... Head-On! FEARSOME... Grappling Tackle!" she let-out a blood-thirsty cry.

"Wha... what the?" Ethan gasped, astonished by her and Cyndaquil's intertwined screams. It's like her blood-thirst is being channeled through her pokemon! he realized, certain that he'd seen this terrifying thing from somewhere before.

"Yes! Just like that!" Lyra raised a hand and roared. "From here on out, our partnership will never fail. It'll only bear the imploding apricorns of love, trust and victory—it'll be the bearer of the impossible!"

Ethan glared helplessly into the thick smokescreen and then cried out: "Marill, use Water Gun!"

"Let's DEE DEE ARRR!" Lyra cried.

Cyndaquil sensed what she wanted him to do and jigged through the dark smoke, flitting back and forth as water spurted past him on all sides.

"I can see a dream in your dance. I can see tomorrow in your dance... we'll call it, our hope!" Lyra exclaimed, her senses honing in on Marill. "That's the right way, Lil' Bro! Dance between the ropes and tackle that sonuva!"

Cyndaquil scrambled and leapt forward, forcing Marill down with a loud squeak and holding him fast.

"Pinned to the ground—just like old times!" Lyra called, swinging her fists in excitement.

"Ergh... Don't be so sure yet!" Ethan blasted. "Marill, Water Gun now!"

Cyndaquil made the road his supreme dance floor and jumped back, nimbly avoiding the attack while doing the cha cha.

"That's right, dance and strike! Fever! With the smoke screen in place—he can't see a thing," Lyra said, jumping backwards amidst the spreading smoke; "Feel the enemy! Feel the ripple! And when you're uncertain, use the springing sound of his tail to judge where he is!"

No way! Clever! Ethan gritted his teeth in panic. "Fire your Water Gun all out, like a sprinkler!" he commanded in one last final effort; "Marill! Don't move too much, just keeping using water gun!" Marill... We have to win! Ethan wished desperately; Please... you have to do this!

Through the thick smoke, the two pokemon kept battling—thumping against the ground and screeching as they tore at each other.

Until, the smoke began to clear...

~To be continued...~