Author's Note: Welcome back! Here we check in with our trainer one day before the events of the first chapter. I do promise we'll get to Dragonair, but she's not quite jumping into my head yet and demanding to be written! Don't worry, though...she's going to be back in action next time, I swear it! Please enjoy the chapter.
Disclaimer: I own nothing in this piece except for the ideas that came from my own little head.
You know what's funny?
That trainer didn't play by the rules yesterday, and because of that, he lost.
Well, Piious helped, but really...karma was on our side. The guy called four attacks in a row with his Mr. Mime and didn't allow me to counterattack with a four-set of my own. All we got---and all we needed---was a Razor Wind, which technically means that he cheated. Of course, I won, so it doesn't matter too much, but if this were the professional world, he'd be in heaps of trouble. Try that trick on Koga---and he might, too, since Ground and Psychic are great types to use against his Poison-types---here in Fuchsia and he'll have him tossed out of his Gym so fast he'll wonder if he got Exploded by an Electrode. Heck, Koga might even revoke his League license!
You know what else I just realized?
He's gotta have psychic talent.
It seems odd to think that that boy---that immature, tempermental, but very skilled boy---would share something in common with me. Not to toot my own Loudred, but I'd like to think I'm relatively well-mannered, complimenting, humble, and all that jazz. Still, he owns a Mr. Mime, so somewhere in that head of his there's psychic power, and that links us together.
I guess we're just like psychic pokémon themselves; although we may be of the same type, we all have different personalities. Just because he's a psychic---and even then there's so many classifications: a clairvoyant, a diviner, a prophet, a telepath, a telekinetic, a channeler, a controller, or any mix of all of that---doesn't mean that he has to be all zen-like and focused and serene and all that jazz. We're all different.
You know what's weird?
Being a psychic is weird.
It's been four years since I met Spee. I was doing some algebra homework out by the swing sets at the playground back home, when all of a sudden she just stalks out of the woods and comes towards me. She was---is---the most beautiful pokémon I've ever seen in Kanto (I guess Milotic, over in Hoenn, are breathtaking, but I bet Spee would give them a run for their money): flawless purple fur, casually flicking tail, regal violet ears, and the most adorable cat's face ever. (Not like those Meowth or Skitty, ugh.) What made her even more ravishing is that she had that air of confidence about her, that "I know you're a human and I really don't give a Hoothoot about it" kind of look on her face that made me set simultaneous equations in the grass beside the swing and meet her in the middle. It was a clearing, a nice patch of grass, and I've sat there oodles of times as I've done homework or read or whatever. This time, Spee was there, this captivating Espeon that I'd never seen before, and she did the most amazing thing: she bowed her head to me as we met. Unsure of what to do in return, I gave my own awkward bow back and then we just stood there, boy and pokémon, staring.
"Sit down, human."
Those three words resounded in my head like bells echoing in an empty room. I did the classic "who said that?" double take, looking around and finding nobody, before I realized that it had to have come from the Espeon in front of me.
"I will not harm you. Sit down."
She repeated the command, and, feeling helpless, I gently flopped down onto the grass so that we were now relatively eye level. Moving into a sitting position and looking more and more like a Siamese cat every second, she continued to speak to me.
"I have chosen you to be my master. Do you know what this means?"
The awe kept coming. Flabbergasted, I shook my head, too stunned to speak.
"You are to be my 'trainer', as your kind calls them. You will instruct me in the art of refining my physical capabilities. Your kind calls this instruction 'training' for 'battle', does it not?"
I nodded, trying to follow.
"In turn, I will instruct you regarding your mental capabilities."
Mental...capabilities? My brow furrowed. She was going to help me with algebra, maybe? Ooookay...
"Yes, mental capabilities. Only humans with psychic gifts can communicate with or control a psychic pokémon. You are intelligent enough to draw the necessary conclusion."
Indeed I was, but it didn't mean I wasn't surprised. Me, some sort of psychic? I couldn't even tell what my chemistry teacher wanted when she asked us questions about theoretical yields and independent variables and all that jazz. Wouldn't I have been able to tell?
"No, human, you would not. A human's ability is incredibly latent and must be...cajoled...if it is to be used actively. Only the most powerful human psychics are born with active talent."
Silence reigned over us for the next thirty seconds or so as Spee let this set in, patiently waiting, flicking her tail back in forth lazily, ever-watching.
"Human. Do you have what your kind calls a 'name'?"
A name? Oh, yeah.
"Kev. Kev Collady."
"Thank you, Kev Collady. We will work on developing your ability at the next available opportunity. When would that be, Kev Collady?"
Er. Well, there's that algebra homework to do, and then dinner, and then some computer time, and school tomorrow...
"Never mind. You will consult me when the time is right. Come. We should return to your abode. Lead the way, Kev Collady."
"Um...could you just call me 'Kev'?" I asked, getting to my feet awkwardly and walking back to the swings slowly, grabbing my forgotten homework.
"Very well, 'Kev'. It shall be as you ask."
We walked in silence for a few minutes, and as we got closer and closer to the slightly weed-ridden maroon trailer that I call home, we both had very practical questions for one another. She asked hers first.
"Kev?"
"Yes?" I responded aloud. The voice had become nearly comfortable in my mind, now, as if this kind of thing happened every day.
"As I understand it, your kind keeps their pokémon in what they call 'pokéballs'. Do you have any of these?"
Oh, bust my buttons and hit me like a rampaging Snorlax! I was going to have to get a pokéball for...for...
"Do you have a name?" I decided to counter with my own question, skipping her issue for now.
For the first time, I caught her unawares. Her step next to me faltered as she abruptly went into a sitting position in the road (I live in the country, so the chance of a car coming was slim).
"My kind does not use these, but...if it would make you more comfortable, Kev, then I will answer to this 'name' you require."
"I'll think of one," I promised her, resuming the walk. Calling her Espeon just didn't seem to really suit the beauty. She deserved something more, something personal.
It was about another quarter of a mile before we would be home, and as we got nearer, I saw Mom's car in the driveway. Oh, this was going to be a fun one to explain...
"Hi, Mom! I found her---well, she found me---at the playground today. Can I keep her?"
Yeah, no. That wasn't going to fly.
Plus, how in the world was this Espeon going to deal with Dray, our Poochyena? Weren't psychics really bad with Dark-types?
Feeling more and more like fate's abused plaything, I set my shoulders and walked up the driveway, onto the porch, and stepped through the door, Mom's greeting dying on her lips as she caught sight of the pokémon at my feet.
That night went far better than I expected. Once we were all home, at dinner the whole family worked out a name for Spee---they loved her, actually, which was quite relieving for me---and she and Dray, despite some qualms, ended up getting along quite well with each other, frequently chasing each other. I never let them attack one another---or, at least, I never asked Spee to attack Dray---because we don't have the money for gas to drive into the city (Celadon City, to be exact) to the Pokémon Center.
You know what's funny?
I've been to quite a few Centers, now, and they get less scary each time. Sure, they're still as huge as ever, but the nurses really care about their patients. Plus, the Chanseys are really the sweetest things.
Tomorrow, we should be in Fuchsia City, so I'll be writing from the Center there until I can find a definite place to lay my head. They let you stay for a week before they have to let you go---demand for beds is high, after all---and that should be enough for me to find a job somewhere that my team and I can do. Maybe some trainers at the Gym will need sparring partners, or I can clean up litter from their Safari Zone (I heard it's really cool in there), or something. I always find some job somewhere that pays the bills for a traveling trainer.
I'll put away the journal, now, and go play with the crew. Only Swiff and T'len are awake, though, since it's past dinnertime.
Does T'len ever sleep? I know he has to at some point. Maybe he just doesn't sleep a lot. We really haven't connected as much as I thought we had, I guess. I'll have to fix that.
Okay, I said I'd put away the journal, so I will. The next time I open this, I'll be in Fuchsia City.
You know what else is funny?
Somehow home seems farther away than ever.