Silver peered into the window, squinting to see inside through the sun that reflected brightly off the glass. A warm breeze disturbed his hair and whistled in his ears as the soft clattering of the town's windmills sounded from above. The boy stayed close to the tree-line behind him, but kept his eyes trained on the inside of the building.
The famous Elm Pokémon Lab.
He'd heard about it all his life - heard of the research the professor had done inside. Focussing on evolution, Elm was bound to have some powerful evolved Pokémon inside; Silver knew it was where he should begin his journey.
Suddenly, a small figure entered his vision through the window. Silver felt himself duck instinctively as he saw the silhouette of a young boy pass through the room, calling out contentedly, before a man came to meet him. Elm himself. The man was lanky, and clumsy-looking, drawing a growl to Silver's throat just from his appearance alone. He looked fragile, fumbling, weak. Just like the pathetic team his father had formed-
Silver shook his head, ridding himself of the memory of his family.
After conversing, Elm led the boy further into the room, which drew Silver from his shadowed hiding place to creep closer to the window. From this angle, he could see what was happening; a sort of capsule held three Pokéballs, and the boy was picking each of them up before returning them.
The Pokémon. The things he needed. Elm was well-known for having found rare and powerful Pokémon - ones that had only been seen a handful of times around the region. One of these Pokémon would be perfect for what Silver wanted.
Revenge. Glory. To show the world that he wasn't what they thought he was…
"Far too weak!" His mother had given a scornful laugh at her son, giving Silver a pitiful look. Three years ago, Silver had felt his own heart be torn out; he had watched his only Pokémon - only friend - be thrown out of his life by his wretched mother.
Silver remembered the pain in his Sneasel's eyes as he'd been released and chased away by his mother's Murkrow, and he'd never seen him again.
It was only a few mere weeks later that his father had left. Had revealed his true colours. Giovanni had been taken down by a child, and had shown himself to be a weakling. All of his life, Silver had been taught to be strong - had been mocked for being a coward. All along, though, it was his father who was the weak one. Silver had felt betrayal, distrust, and a deep-seated, burning hatred.
Thus, after three years of pain - of brooding and crying and trying to come to terms with all of his loss - Silver had taken action.
Inside the lab, the young boy had received his Pokémon, shook hands with Professor Elm, and the two left through the main entrance of the lab.
Silver stepped quietly around the building, watching the young trainer disappear into the tall grass along the outskirts of town. Elm ascended some wooden steps that led to the house above the lab, disappearing behind a door, and not a single passerby seemed to notice as Silver approached the lab's entrance.
The opportunity was unmissable.
He shouldered his way through the door, wrinkled his nose as the sterile stench of cleaning products hit him, and began to head inside. He walked with purpose - with confidence. Nobody was in the room, but if he was caught, he would simply say he wanted to speak to the professor. If he snuck around, creeping and tiptoeing, he would arouse suspicion immediately. Silver took assured steps through the lab until he reached the capsule of Pokéballs, finding it to still be wide open.
Fools.
Silver looked at the two remaining Pokéballs, both glinting beautifully under the white lights of the laboratory, and grabbed one. It felt so right in his hand - filling his palm and seeming to buzz with an electrifying power. His eyes fell upon the other remaining Ball. With two Pokémon, he could conquer. He could prove himself. He would be at an immediate advantage with two partners instead of the measly one that the boy had just taken.
As a smile curled one corner of his lips, Silver could only imagine what was inside the Balls - what magnificent creatures awaited him, ready for his commands and to scale the League with him, sharing his destined future of greatness-
"Hey!" A voice bellowing at his side made Silver turn. An aide - one of the lab nerds wearing a white coat - was pointing at him. "What are you doing!?"
Silver began to panic. His heart began to pound, sending blood hurtling through his brain. He'd been caught. Whirling towards the door, Silver had no other instinct but to run - taking off flying towards the door.
Shouts sounded behind him but Silver had reached the entrance, grasping for the door handle but, in his haste, let one of the Balls slip from his grip. A gasp left his lips as he turned, reaching back out towards it as it bounced across the floor, but lab workers were heading straight for him, babbling in their panic.
Run! his brain screamed at him, and before he could think any more, Silver was out the door, his feet hurtling towards the tree line again, leaving the second Pokéball far behind him.
He could have handled everything so much better. He could have lied; he could have said he was merely looking, or - better yet - could have said the professor had invited him to take a Pokémon, just as the other boy had. As his legs began to ache with exertion, Silver clutched onto the remaining Pokéball in his hand in a death-grip, and continued to fly through the woods away from the lab.
When, after what felt like an hour of running, he burst through the trees again, Silver found himself in a lush, green field. He looked around: grass, buildings in the distance, an occasional Pidgey flying out of the brush; Silver was alone, with not a single other person in sight. Deeming himself safe, and discerning his surroundings as being of Route 29, the boy allowed himself to catch his breath.
Silver fell to his knees, sucking in air through his burning, searing lungs, and placed his prize down upon the soft grass before him. Despite his panic - despite adrenaline forcing itself through his every vein - he felt his lips curl into a smile. Success. Finally, after everything he'd been through, he'd been successful in something.
He had his own Pokémon. Of course, this would not be Silax; this would not be his beloved Sneasel, whom he'd loved so dearly. But, it would be a partner.
Somehow, though, the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. He felt his smile disappear, melting into the scowl he'd worn so often as of late. No - this wouldn't be Silax. So, what was the point?
Silver felt a hot prickle begin to tingle his eyes, and hastily wiped away rising tears with the back of his sleeve. He picked up the Pokéball and felt his fingers tense around it, wanting nothing more than to crush the hard shell between his fingers in his rage. He missed Silax so dearly. He missed the Sneasel's adorable cries, and the time they'd spent playing together. He missed sneaking out of his house to go and feed him, and forming a friendship, and finally feeling like he'd had a friend. He remembered stealing a Pokéball from his mother's bag, and his bubbling elation as the Sneasel had agreed, being captured willingly by his new trainer. Gone. Lost, through his mother's wrath.
Instead of crushing the stolen Ball now in his grip, Silver merely threw it to the ground as hard as he could, watching as white light burst from it, materialising into a small shape. It was not just small, Silver realised, watching teal and yellow form beneath the white particles of light. It was tiny. It was even smaller than Silax - perhaps just over a foot tall.
The creature shook its head as the Pokéball flew back to Silver's hand, looking around itself somewhat dazed. Silver blinked, intrigued, at the tiny Pokémon that sat before him.
"Cyndaquil…" he heard himself mutter, pulling the name from the back of his mind somewhere. He'd seen it once on a television show when he was young - a rare and shy Fire type well-loved for its cuteness.
The Pokémon cocked its head, seeming to look straight at Silver despite its eyes appearing closed. Perhaps it was blind, like Zubat, and relied on smelling through its long snout. Silver did not know. All he knew was that this was not what he'd expected.
People spoke of Elm's rare and powerful Pokémon kept inside the lab. Silver had expected a Dragonite, or a Tyranitar, or perhaps even something spoken of only in legend.
"You're my rare and powerful Pokémon?" he asked.
The Cyndaquil cocked its head once more, making a soft, chirruping noise. Silver's brow furrowed. This was no Silax; this was no powerful Sneasel with razor-sharp claws and cunning wit. This Cyndaquil was nothing more than a glorified Rattata.
Another chirp sounded from the Pokémon's mouth, and in something that seemed almost like a cough, a small plume of smoke left its mouth.
Silver could not resist a smile, finding with irritation that the Cyndaquil was indeed adorable. "Ashe," he said under his breath, watching the grey heat streak the air. That was what he would name this new Pokémon. A Fire type was stronger than a Normal type, at least.
But, his mother's words came back to him, ringing shrilly in his ears.
"Silax? You even nicknamed it? Son, I thought I taught you better than to be so pathetic."
He grit his teeth. Nicknames were for weaklings. Emotional attachments were for the pathetic. With a grunt, he shook his head once more. His heart told him to follow in his footsteps with Silax - to make a new friend - but his brain told him what his parents had ingrained into him since childhood: to name a Pokémon was weak.
What could he do?
Silver stood up, his heart and brain fighting inside him and threatening to make him pull his hair. He swiped the Pokéball up from the ground and thrust it towards the smiling Cyndaquil. His new partner returned to its Ball, and Silver attached it to the belt he'd bought on his way to New Bark.
Regardless of his emotions, he needed to continue with his journey. Silver looked around himself once again, finding with relief that he had not been followed by his pursuers, and continued to walk through the meadow towards the next city over.
He would become strong. He would prove his parents wrong. He and Ashe - or, rather, Cyndaquil - would become the strongest in Johto. Far stronger than the failure of his father.