10 YEARS BEFORE THE BATTLE WITH ARCEUS
"Are you a boy?" the kooky old professor asked, staring through his spectacles down at Red before slowly removing them. "Or are you a girl?"
Red raised an eyebrow. He wasn't in the mood for a professor-ism right now. "The hell is that supposed to mean, professor?"
Red Hearthfire stood in the small but homey research lab in Pallet Town, the most modern building in the tiny settlement and, as far as Red was concerned, the only interesting part about the place. Upon entering the blocky, rectangular building, he'd walked past rows of desks, tables and computers to answer Professor Oak's summons in his back office. The lab smelled uncomfortably sterile, like at any moment someone would come around the corner with a giant needle and politely ask to stab Red for science, but the employees were friendly and the work atmosphere was lax.
He observed the professor through his black bangs, waiting for him to elaborate. Being summoned to the back office usually meant he was getting a lecture or his most recent petty crime was being unveiled to the world, so he took a deep breath in and waited for another discourse on science and morality.
Then again, Professor Oak had summoned his grandson Viral, too. Unless Viral had inexplicably done a one-eighty and turned from an uptight goody-two-shoes to a troublemaker and small-time pyromaniac like Red, Oak probably wasn't putting someone through the ringer. Viral brushed aside the brown hair that hung over his face and waited patiently for his grandfather to continue. Red always wondered how his hair did that naturally, shorter in the back, sticking up on top like a crest before dipping downward. In contrast, Red's straight black hair just reaching to his neck in the back looked ordinary.
Professor Oak lowered himself carefully to his ergonomic yet ancient and somewhat beaten-down office chair, crossing his legs and looking between them expectantly. Something had him excited. "I have a sort of low-key proposal for you. I've done a lot of thinking about it, and I think it's something the two of you would truly benefit from. Red, you're going to like this, so listen up."
Red, who had been fiddling with an expensive-looking pen, stopped mid-fiddle and glanced down at the professor. Professor Oak knew damn well what sorts of things made Red happy, and they usually made everyone around him less happy. "Go on."
Viral eyed Red suspiciously but made no comment.
Professor Oak turned his chair around and began rifling through a desk. "The two of you have spent most of your lives in this tiny bundle of sticks we call Pallet. A lovely place to retire, but for the young and restless, I'm sure it doesn't feel like much more than a pretty view of the world you wish you could explore. Sound familiar?"
Red crossed his arms and gently tapped a finger on his bicep, trying to maintain a poker face. Actually, that sounded very familiar. Maybe the professor had been paying more attention to Red than he'd realized. Then again, the man was knowledgeable about all things science, and that extended to psychology.
Pallet Town was a very beautiful prison. Red craved the world outside its borders, harsh and ugly though it may have been.
If Professor Oak understood that, maybe Red would enjoy what he said next after all.
The professor finally turned back around from the desk, two red metal devices in hand. They looked vaguely like oversized, antiquated cellphones, but Red recognized them as the professor's labor of love over the past couple of years. "You know what these are?" he asked them, a boyish smile spreading across his face.
Viral raised his eyebrows. "You finished the PokeDex?"
Oak chortled. "Well, not quite. You see, they're rather empty."
Red rubbed his chin, wondering what the professor's mini-computers had to do with Red and his general desire for conquest and domination. "Remind me what it is these doohickeys accomplish again."
Oak tapped a finger on one thoughtfully. "There's a lot we still don't know about Pokemon, and Trainers still need a lot of help with their profession, even in this day and age. The PokeDex is a way to quickly and efficiently analyze Pokemon on the spot, provided they sit still long enough for one to scan them with the PokeDex. It takes all the hard work out of random Trainer polling and deep study of individual Pokemon, giving the scientific community a much broader picture of the world we live in. Using this technology we could detect epidemics in Pokemon as they arise, observe trends, learn how the ecology is changing as it changes..."
"Make the world a better place one small step at a time?" Red summarized.
The professor winked at him. "If we're not on the same page, you're at least a couple behind me."
Computers. Science. Pokemon. Red liked all three, but he wasn't necessarily keen on the idea of having to take hours away from helping Christine work at Maia's farm near the edge of town. He had no special love for farming, but Christine was essentially all the family he had left. "What's our role in this, and does it pay?"
"A man who cuts straight to the chase," Viral muttered.
"An admirable quality in this day and age," Professor Oak stated, ever looking for the best in people, though unfortunately one had to dig with a shovel to find it in Red. "It's not something that pays, per se. It's not a job, just a request from a man too old to get the job done himself. I want you two to get the ball rolling on the PokeDex, start gathering data where you can, spread the word, give me intel on how they're faring. This is stuff I'd love to see mass produced, but we're still in the testing stage. If you're willing, I want you boys to move us to the next stage."
Viral gingerly took one of the PokeDexes from his grandfather's hand and studied it, turning it over in his hands. Deciding if it was good enough for Viral, it was good enough for him, Red took the remaining one a little less gingerly. "That's a lot to entrust to a couple of country bumpkins," Viral said, running a finger over the polished red surface.
"Knowing my luck," Red joked, "it'll become self-aware and orchestrate humanity's undoing before the weekend is over."
Viral uttered a dark-humored laugh. "It would match its user pretty well."
"I know. Lucky me."
Oak cleared his throat. "This goes without saying, but that technology is expensive and hard to recreate at this point, so don't go using it as a coaster or something."
Viral shook his head. "Trust me, I won't. I know how much this means to you."
Red rapped the PokeDex against his wrist, testing its durability. It was holding up fine so far. "So, what's the plan? Any time we see a wild Pokemon, we politely ask it not to bathe us in fire and Hyper Beams long enough to enter itself into a pocket computer?"
Oak put his hands behind his head and leaned back, eyeing Red's PokeDex carefully. "How you use it is up to you. You could ask other Trainers to lend you a hand. You could become Trainers yourselves. Either way, there's not a whole lot you can do from just Pallet Town."
Red's heart skipped a beat. "Meaning?"
"Meaning," Oak continued, "this is your excuse to skip town and try new things. For science."
Nobody actually forbade Red from leaving Pallet Town. He was eighteen years old and he was more than capable of fending for himself. It was more the looks of disappointment and concern he knew he'd have to endure if he went too far outside its borders, and for the life of him he didn't know why that even bothered him so much.
Between Pallet Town and Viridian City to the north was a route with patches of forest and tall grass, the perfect playground for Pokemon who may or may not attack an unwary traveler for looking at them funny. Since precious few Trainers lived in Pallet Town and therefore they didn't have much to protect themselves beyond hunting rifles and sticks, journeying outside the borders was a risk most villagers were unwilling to take. Beyond that, Red's adoptive sister, Christine, didn't make a great deal of money working on the farm and selling her clay crafts from home, so Red bailing on Pallet was like telling her to go screw herself and pay for the house on her own.
It shouldn't have mattered. Red didn't know where "home" was for him, only that it wasn't Pallet Town. Everyone had to embrace change or get left behind, and sadly for Pallet Town, most of its residents weren't the changing type.
Now it sounded like the professor was giving Red a free pass. Even better, he hadn't heard a caveat so far outside of reporting in once in a blue moon. "When do we start?" Red asked.
"Slow down, Red," Oak explained patiently. "How you go about this is up to you two. However, you can't simply toddle through the grass to Viridian City with an especially large branch and pray for your own safety. Regardless of whether you Train or not, it'll be important to have a Pokemon by your side. That's why I'd like you to begin your PokeDex journey with one of my...lab assistants."
Free Pokemon. What with an unsuccessful harvest this time of year, Red losing his favorite camping cook pot, and his favorite TV show being cancelled, Red wasn't having a good week, but this was starting to make up for it all. "Unless you're talking about Greg with the neckbeard, sign me up."
Oak stood from his chair, crossed the office, and opened the door to the rest of the lab. Eyes down to the floor outside, he gestured someone toward the office. "Come on. This is the moment you were waiting for."
There was the pitter-patter of little feet. Red typically placed babies firmly in the "annoying" category, but something was adorable about this.
Three Pokemon turned the corner and entered the office, all barely taller than Red's knee. One was a quadruped with a large green bulb on its back, a blue-skinned dinosaur that might have looked a bit scary with its red eyes and fangs if Red wasn't a twisted lunatic. Behind it was a bipedal lizard, orange-skinned, eyes big and wide set in a round head. Most notable were the flames kindling on the end of its tail, not large enough to immediately set fire to everything around it but still enough to warrant concern, Red would think. The third Pokemon was a blue turtle-like creature with a thick brown shell, walking upright, its fluffy tail swaying back and forth. It waved up at Red, then tripped over the office threshold and landed on its face. Without a word, the first Pokemon produced a tiny vine from beneath its bulb and pried the turtle back onto its feet.
Bulbasaur, Charmander and Squirtle, representing Grass, Fire and Water respectively. They weren't Pokemon easy to find in this day and age.
Viral knelt down to their level, smiling like he was looking at a kennel of puppies. "Hey there. How long have you guys been here?"
The Charmander looked at the Bulbasaur and Squirtle as if hoping for backup, then murmured, "A week, I guess. Been a nice place."
"How many things have you set on fire?" Red asked.
The Charmander looked slightly taken aback. It tried in vain to hide its tail, muttering a number too low for Red to hear, but probably higher than zero. Good thing the professor was so forgiving.
A good thing indeed, or Red wouldn't be here.
"There's an ongoing study," Professor Oak explained, "trying to place the origins and nature of the Grass, Fire, and Water Pokemon of each region in Yamato, because as I'm sure you know, each region has its own little triangle thing going on. These three here agreed to hang around the lab and help us with that research. A lot of Yamatoan professors are hopping on board." The professor leaned against the wall next to the door, looking fondly down at the tiny creatures. The most adorable death weapons Red had ever seen, because there was no mistake to be made - Pokemon were engines of war. "But I did some talking with them, and they're interested in seeing more of the world outside these borders. Something I'm sure a couple of young men in this office can relate to."
Viral stroked the Bulbasaur's bulb. His sister Daisy was good with Pokemon, so perhaps it ran in the family. "Partners, working toward a common goal. I can get behind that."
The Bulbasaur stared up at him, eyes keen and discerning. "In essence, that would make you two Trainers, yes? In the business of war."
Viral smiled. "In the business of protection."
Red rocked on his heels. His own sentiments were slightly different. He was, after all, a man who cut to the chase, so he took a step toward the three tiny Pokemon, hands clasped behind his back, standing tall over them, and made his intentions clear. "Protection, science, advancement, all good things I stand behind. But let me be up front before you sign on to a madman's scheme: I am in the business of war. I will be a Trainer, and under my guidance you will be my arms and legs. We will conquer Kanto and reform it to be generally less sucky. Peace is not our domain. We deal in power."
Viral sighed. "Way to crank the Crazy Factor from a 3 to at least a 7."
The Bulbasaur eyed Red with a hint of mirth. "What brought it to a 3, I wonder?"
Professor Oak, still leaning against the wall, said nothing, merely observing the exchange. He knew exactly what sort of man Red was, what he valued and despised.
Red turned his eyes up to the professor. "You're certain you want to give me a tool of war?"
"They're not just tools of war," Viral mumbled, knowing it would be lost on Red.
Professor Oak was as patient and contemplative as ever. "You may both agree to a fruitful partnership. Just know all conquests run on trust, Red, or else they end in disappointment and a healthy dose of blood and fire."
Red nodded, hearing without listening. He'd heard more than enough of the old man's lectures to know where he was coming from. He turned his attention back down to the Pokemon by his feet. "So. Who agrees to a fruitful partnership of power and conquest?"
None of the Pokemon backed away or ran for the door, so that was a good early sign. Red knelt and scooped up the Charmander like a small child, careful to keep it at arm's length so the tail flame didn't singe his clothes.
They stared into each other's eyes, reading one another like a book. Red gave the Charmander a lopsided, mirthful grin, the look he usually adopted when about to clue someone in to his most recent scheme. "How does reigning supreme with a Champion sound? Do you want people to stand a little straighter every time you enter the room?"
The Charmander blinked, tiny shoulders bunched up by its head. "I mean, I guess?"
Still crouching on the floor, Viral licked his lips, not looking at Red. "Red, is there some other maniacal plot you've cooked up you'd like to share with us?"
"Trust me," Red responded, "it's been simmering in the pot for years." Having learned what he needed from the Charmander, Red set it down, its nubby talons clacking on the floor, then lifted up the Bulbasaur next with a groan. It was probably the heaviest of the bunch. "What say you, floral saurian? Power, money, respect, women? On a tier of our own, answering to no one?" The Bulbasaur merely stared at him, eyes narrowed. Wondering if it would bite him or urinate on him if he continued, he silently put it down and scooped up the Squirtle next, trying the same tactic. "How about you, turtle tot? You and me, warriors unparalleled, taking what we desire, giving no quarter."
The Squirtle nodded eagerly, though no spark of recognition or understanding was in its eyes. "Yeah!"
Red frowned. He suspected he could have offered to boot the Squirtle off a cliff like a ball and it still would have agreed. He set it down and leaned back, observing the three Pokemon. Viral hadn't made a move so far.
To be honest, Red didn't have any solid plans for dominance. He wasn't much good at the strategy phase. All he knew was that he was tired of being in the dark. Life owed him answers. It owed him revenge. He would get neither sitting around waiting to die in Pallet.
Growing stronger, commanding respect and even fear from those around him, becoming more than nothing, was the only way he knew how to get what he wanted.
And one of these three Pokemon would help him do it. But only one.
He looked at each one pointedly. The Charmander shifted awkwardly. The Bulbasaur didn't move, eyes still locked on his face. The Squirtle looked around the room, something having caught its attention.
There was one he found more intriguing than the others. He didn't know if a partnership would work, but he was dying to find out.
He extended a hand to the Bulbasaur. "Please join me. Help me make Kanto a better place. Let's become better than whatever we are now."
"And remember," Viral interjected with all the politeness he could muster, "you're always free to decline."
The Bulbasaur stared at Red's open hand. He started to retract it, thinking it might nip off a finger or two, but instead it walked forward and sat by Red's feet. "You have my attention, conqueror. I look forward to you proving you're not simply full of wind."
Red laughed softly. "That's all I ask, little plant monster."
Viral chewed his lip. After a few seconds of thoughtful chewing, he nodded to the Charmander and said, "Hey. I can't promise power and glory and all that, but I can help you explore the world. My grandfather's task is an important one. Can you help me do it?"
The Charmander looked between Red and Viral, then bobbed its head. "Yeah. I can do that."
Red saw what Viral was doing. Viral didn't trust Red, as well he shouldn't have. Fire-type Pokemon had the advantage over Grass-types. If Red ever asked the Bulbasaur to attempt anything unsavory, Viral and his Charmander would have the edge over it in a battle.
But Red had studied Pokemon, Training and battling plenty, long before he'd even had a shot at having a Pokemon of his own. There was more to battling than any single member of a team. Red needed an army, and this tiny blue-skinned Bulbasaur was an excellent start.
Professor Oak looked down to the Squirtle. "Well, little one, do you have any objections, or can you help me here at the lab? I could always use an eager little scientist or two running around."
The Squirtle beamed up at him. "I can do that."
That thing was the most agreeable anything Red had ever met. He wondered how it would fare on his team. However, he had made his decision, and he would become the strongest Trainer he could, the Bulbasaur by his side.
Red strode out of the lab, breathing in the fresh afternoon air, salted by the brine of the waves lapping on Pallet's southern shores. His first steps as a Pokemon Trainer. He'd never thought someone would be so dense as to actually allow him one.
Pallet Town was fairly small, somewhere around a hundred and twenty buildings jumbled together on a series of green hills dipping into the ocean to the south, flanked by trees on the west and east. The lab was near the edge of town, a short walk to a bluff overlooking the beach farther below, the waves pounding on the sand in a rhythmic song Red couldn't unhear.
What a beautiful prison, and the front door had been left open.
He heard the rustle of hasty footsteps on grass behind him as Viral followed him out. He was sure the Charmander wasn't far behind.
"I kept my mouth shut," Viral started, "because I didn't want things becoming even more awkward, but you need to start talking. Conquest? Championship? I thought those were jokes. What are you planning on doing now that you have a Pokemon?"
Red winked down at the Bulbasaur. The Bulbasaur remained impassive. Red turned back to Viral and took a deep breath in, ready to lay out his thin excuse for a plan. "Well you see, it's quite simple, Viral. I'm not a big fan of Pallet Town. Or of Kanto, or even of Yamato, really. I don't like their secrets. I don't like their...rigidness. So starting today, I'm prying whatever answers I want from this country's stiff, stubborn fingers, and I'm not waiting for a by-your-leave. Today, I am war, and I'm only going to get stronger. If that means becoming Champion, so be it. If that means conquering Yamato in flames, you'll see me there flickering in the fire light."
Viral exhaled and slapped his hands against his side disbelievingly. "What, with one Pokemon?"
Red crossed his arms. "Every army starts with a couple of soldiers and a handful of swords."
Viral shook his head. Red would have thought he'd be used to this sort of thing by now. "So that's it. Become Champion of Kanto or whatever, you write the rules, you answer to nobody. Yeah, sounds bulletproof."
Red turned away and continued walking to the bluff overlooking the ocean. "It's not a plan, it's an ideal. Plans can sink. Ideals never do."
Viral sighed. Red could almost hear the gears turning in his head. "They do if you're the only one carrying the banner." He paused. "Why, though? You're a nutcase, and an avaricious one at that. I get it. To be honest, I'm not worried about whether you'll succeed or fail, because a nutcase can only take a revolution so far. I'm just worried what you might do along the way."
Red stopped walking. "Whatever I want, Viral. That's the idea."
"And the 'answers?'" Viral prompted. "What are you trying to learn about yourself?"
Red was offended he even had to ask.
Cinnabar Island. It wasn't far from the Pallet coastline, maybe ten miles or even less. Ambitious types had swum the distance between the two. A couple had drowned and one had been killed by an apparently short-tempered Tentacruel, but that was beside the point. It was close, a haunting, burning reminder of what Red had lost, what had stuck him in this tiny seaside town to begin with. He couldn't get away from it.
Until today.
"Listen," Viral tried, a little more softly. "I understand how you feel."
"Do you?" Red grunted.
"Just don't hurt yourself digging up the truth, whatever it is. Yourself or anyone else."
"I guarantee you I will," Red muttered. "And that's the way I want it." He glanced down at the Bulbasaur by his left foot. "Still interested in tagging along?"
The Bulbasaur blinked. "You know, regardless of whether we live or die, it's not going to be boring, I'll give you that much."
"Good man," Red responded. He hesitated. "Woman. Thing. What are you, anyway? All you cutesy little Pokemon sound alike until you evolve."
"Female, Red," the Bulbasaur said in a monotone voice. "I am female."
"Another mystery solved."
Viral shifted in place. "When are you going to leave, then?"
Red checked his watch, looked at the sky, analyzed the weather. He turned to the north, checking out the winding path that led up out of Pallet Town straight to Viridian City a mere day's journey away by foot. "Let's say, one or two hours?"
Viral scowled. Red had said something wrong. Around Viral, he hardly ever said anything right. "Come on, Red. You've lived here for years. Give it a couple days at least."
Red scratched the side of his head. "Funny, this place doesn't feel much like home."
"Where is 'home?'"
Red looked at Viral pointedly. "Boy would I love to find out."
Viral ran a hand through his hair. "You can't just pick up and leave with only an hour's notice. The roads are dangerous without an escort, and one Bulbasaur fresh from the lab isn't going to help you if a rampaging Onix comes barreling out of Victory Road. No offense."
The Bulbasaur raised and lowered her shoulders as best she could. "You speak truth."
The more Viral tried to dissuade him, the more Red wanted to push his luck. He was good at keeping his head and improvising. He started walking back toward his house in the northwest section of town. "I like a challenge, and I enjoy camping. The Pokemon around Pallet are weak and docile. I'll take my chances. Before a horde of do-gooders try and change my mind."
"Why?" Viral asked, brow furrowing. "Because they might succeed?" Red ignored him and tried to pass him by, but Viral put an arm out to stop him. "Hey. It's not just you in that house. What happened to staying with Christine to help make ends meet?"
Red tightened a fist, relaxing it before Viral could notice. "The iron is still hot, Viral. I'm going to strike. This can't wait. I'll send a postcard."
Viral stared him down. "You are afraid someone will talk you out of this."
Red brushed his arm away and kept walking. "No, the bitter tastes of mediocrity and disappointment cancel out all the discouraging words. You always told me to get a life. Now I am."
"Then how about this," Viral called as Red stepped away. Red stopped long enough to humor him. "You want to be a strong Trainer. Let's start Training. We'll have a battle right here, and if I win, you at least stay in town until tomorrow morning. Christine deserves that much."
The Bulbasaur wouldn't take her perceptive eyes off Red. He tried to ignore her. "And if you lose, you jump naked into the ocean. Bonus points for a belly flop. It'll be a good memory to take with me to Viridian."
Viral rolled his eyes. "If you win, I give you 80 yamayen, because we all know you'll need it out there. The real world's not like Pallet Town."
Red glared at him. "You forget I was born outside of Pallet. I've just spent the past decade here is all."
"And," Viral added, "you can take that handcrafted map of Kanto hanging up in my room. Use it to plan your war strategies or whatever. Deal?"
If Red lost, he had to spend a full day with Christine, either explaining to her why he was leaving or crafting a clever lie so she thought he was coming back soon. Not that he didn't enjoy spending time with his adoptive sister. He just wasn't looking forward to the talks, or the looks. If he won, he would have a little extra spending money and a souvenir. And a chance to flirt with Viral's sister because he knew it would annoy him.
He put his hands in his pockets. It wasn't an unhealthy risk. "Fine. Go get him, Bulbasaur."
The Bulbasaur threw one more dagger-filled look in Red's direction before striding forward. "My pleasure, captain."
Viral bent down to his Charmander's level again. "Are you all right with this? I wasn't planning on Training so soon. It just sort of came out. It's all right to back out."
The Charmander swallowed. It was a brave little Pokemon, but it had also spent the past week bonding with the Bulbasaur. "Yeah. Let's do it."
The Bulbasaur and Charmander stopped about ten feet away from each other. Red and Viral stepped back, giving them space to fight, though Red was fairly confident neither had any combat experience. No better way to learn than by immersion, he figured.
It occurred to Red he didn't know how actual Pokemon battles started. It was apparently the one thing he hadn't paid much attention to in his studies. He chopped a hand downward and said, "Uh, hajime?"
Nothing happened. The Charmander shifted uncomfortably. The Bulbasaur stood there like a rock.
"That means go," Viral translated.
Like flipping a switch, the Charmander raised a claw, gave a high-pitched shout, and swung its hand down at the Bulbasaur's head. The Bulbasaur waited until the last moment before stepping aside and ramming the Charmander with her shoulder. The fiery lizard staggered back, panting.
"Tackle," Red instructed, watching the small battlefield like a hawk. "Eat the pain."
Viral took just a second too long to think of a counter. The Charmander swung its tail on its own, attempting to ward its friend off with sparks and cinders, but the Bulbasaur plowed through it and pinned the Charmander to the ground, one thick leg on its chest to keep it down. One thin, nubby vine snaked out from under her bulb, hovering over the Charmander's face.
Red laughed. He'd chosen the right Pokemon after all. "I'd say that's pretty conclusive. If your lizard blinks a little funny, it's getting a face full of plant."
The Charmander smiled sheepishly. The Bulbasaur frowned, eyes a little heavy, and stepped off its chest. The vine sucked back into an unseen space under her bulb.
Viral put his hands in his pockets as the Charmander returned to its feet. "Guess I've still got a lot to learn about battling."
"Don't feel too bad," Red offered. "I've been fantasizing about this day for years. I've had plenty of time to do my research." He gestured to his Bulbasaur. "Now come along, trusted lieutenant. We have a world to conquer."
Viral patted his Charmander on the head, then hastened his steps toward Red. "Hey, a deal's a deal. Don't forget the prize money and the map."
Red raised a hand in dismissive farewell, still walking. His Bulbasaur trotted along by his side. "Already on my way to your place. Is your sister home?"
Viral paused. "Yes," he answered a little tersely.
"Then I'll meet you there. Prepare your piggy bank."
Viral upped his pace to walk beside Red. He looked flustered, or maybe that scowl had finally wound up permanently etched on his face. "And then you're going home to visit Christine, right?"
"Of course," Red replied, trying his best to boil down his feelings to simple black-and-white. "I do need to pack after all."
Viral sighed through his nose and looked away, falling to silence. His Charmander toddled along behind him.
After a few seconds of quiet, Red's Bulbasaur looked back up to him. "Eat the pain?" she reiterated.
Red didn't meet her gaze or apologize. "Better gear up, because there'll be a lot more of that where we're going. For both of us."
