Chapter I: It Was Raining That Day Too…
Akai "Red" Isamu, Pallet Town, Age: 10
The entry seemed so impersonal, and barely captured the fullness of the young boy's life. But it was a simple identification screen. There were gigabytes worth of data within his Pokedex, and little room to spare for the no-doubt stellar accomplishments of a latchkey kid turned Pokémon trainer.
The next screen was his emergency contact information:
Mother: Akai Delia, Pallet Town
Father: Akai Takehiko, X
The cross beside his father's name felt so viciously final. Like most middle-aged men, Takehiko did not return from the great war. But no body was returned to his grieving mother, only a folded ceremonial Kanto standard and dress uniform he had worn exactly once before being shipped off to the frontlines.
His mother, Delia, had mirrored Kanto in her silent grief those four long years. Stoic and doting to her young boy, especially in public, but hiding the anguish that tore her apart within. Often, he would catch her sitting alone in the family room, staring at the one good picture of him she still had. Her fingers idly tugged at the silver buttons of the bright red uniform, phantoms sieging unseen battlements in her eyes.
According to the Supreme Leader, Kanto had "won" the war against the allied forces of the Alola and Unova. That their freedoms had been assured, and their sovereignty writ in stone for generations to come. But if that was true, it had been won only for the future; past and present Kanto serving as smoldering coals to light the way to a potential utopia that lied just out of reach.
The scars of war affected everything and everyone in Kanto, including scared young boys who only wanted to stay with their mother. But the law was clear. When they turned ten, all children would be issued a Pokémon companion and sent off to train. They would learn to battle and become a standby member of the defense force, and if they should fail, their loss would strengthen their more successful peers.
It was that tradition which forced Red to report to the laboratory at the edge of town. The grey building was usually off limits to non-scientists, but today was a special occasion after all. Storm clouds were gathering overhead, masking the midday sun behind an impenetrable veil.
As Red entered, he passed through a series of whirring arches designed to detect weapons and disease. These were common in government buildings, and even though it had been years since the last outbreak of the Alolan plague, as their Supreme Leader often said, "vigilance was the price of security".
Computers lined the walls, and test tubes holding samples of various Pokémon embryos made for a chilling sight. These were doubtless the results of some of the local studies into artificial lifeforms. If they were able to mass produce their own living weapons, perhaps Kanto might not be doomed to obscurity forever.
With a few cooperative hand waves, Red was led before a small table in the back, handed his bright red Pokedex, and then instructed to use it to identify the three Pokémon on the table to confirm that it worked. The three small red and white capsules which held the creatures within were scanned once, and promptly the device spat back valuable tactical information from its database.
"Well, Red, go ahead and pick one now," said Professor Oak, with a gentle nod of encouragement.
The kindly professor had been too senior to enter the war as a soldier, but he served as an expert on Pokémon combat and tactics, which made him nigh invaluable to the nation. He was like a second father to Red, even if he could not keep his lectures to a reasonable length for a child.
"Hey, Gramps, what about me?!" whined a boy about a month older than Red.
This was Professor Oak's irascible grandson, Blue. Ever since they were little, Blue had made it his life's work to punish the smaller and more timid Red for the woes of his life. His father had not returned from the war either, but rather seeking comfort from the only other little boy in town was beneath him.
"Wait your turn," Oak replied, gently but firmly. "You'll get one of your own as well."
Bulbasaur, Grass Type.
An image of what appeared to be an amphibian with a giant plant bulb on its back. A litany of nearly incomprehensible statistics followed, along with its expected evolution chain: Ivysaur, Venusaur.
Squirtle, Water Type
A bipedal turtle, with bluish skin and bright eyes. An animation on the screen demonstrated it spitting water out as form of attack, as well as ducking for cover within its shell. The same archaic numbers and then: Wartortle, Blastoise.
Charmander, Fire Type
A fiery red salamander, also bipedal with a flickering flame at the tip of its stubby tail. A special cautionary note that above was an indication of the Pokemon's overall health and if it began to dwindle one should seek aid immediately. Vital statistics. Charmeleon, Charizard.
"He's taking forever," Blue scoffed.
A sudden urge to turn around and smack the brat overcame Red, but he did his best to conceal it. Direct violence between trainers was forbidden by law, and even amongst children, the penalties could be rather severe. He could be forbidden to travel, his mother might have her government rations reduced, or he could even end up in jail.
That said, there might be a way to administer a small dose of payback on the little hoodlum that had tormented him for the past four years. He had known for a while now that the Blue had been begging his grandfather to reserve a particular Pokemon for him. That of the three present there was one he wanted to have more than any other.
Red bent over to pick up the second Pokeball, containing Squirtle.
"I think," Red said. "I'll take this one."
Blue fumed and looked on the verge of tears. "You…"
"Blue, calm down," Oak pleaded, his eyes darting to the door as he tried to offer his grandson a consoling pat on the shoulder.
"You knew I wanted that one!" Blue shouted, brushing off his grandfather and moving towards Red despite the consequences which loomed overhead. "You ruined everything again! I hate you! I'll-"
"Aoi!" Professor Oak barked, leaping in between the two boys. "Don't even think about it! You're humiliating me in front of our guest."
Blue cast his eyes around the room. A few of the other scientists had gathered to watch, but it was the man in the navy suit standing in the corner which concerned both his grandfather and him. He had the odor of cheap cologne and though he was partially concealed by the shadows, his shaggy moustache was illuminated by a cigarette.
"I come all the way from Viridian to see the current crop," he chuckled. "And I see a couple of brats fighting with each other instead of focusing on their patriotic duty."
Oak went over to shake the man's hand, bowing his head in embarrassment. "Leader Giovanni. I hope your journey was comfortable. Forgive my grandson's impertinence."
"Impertinence," Giovanni repeated, twirling the ashy cylinder around in his fingers. "If you can't be a good example, you'll have to serve as a warning."
Giovanni was short for a man of his age, but he was nonetheless an imposing figure as he walked over to the table, grabbed the third Pokeball and thrust it into Blue's hand.
"Maybe a demonstration is in order," Giovanni suggested.
"I, uh," Blue stammered, uncertain what to say.
"You just say, 'Yes, Gym Leader', or if you feel like getting neighborly, 'Yes, Mister Giovanni'," the mustachioed brute sneered.
"Yes, Gym Leader," Blue mumbled.
At once, the satisfaction Red had felt from raining on his rival's parade had evaporated. There was a tense silence between the two of them as they prepared for the barbaric ritual which Giovanni had prescribed. He turned his gaze over to Professor Oak, but the patient and loving eyes were now screwed determinedly upon one of his computer monitors, as though he dared not watch the inevitable outcome.
"Well now, you do know how to start, right?" Giovanni asked. "You there, in the hat."
Red, straightened up at once, and turned to face him, hands at his side, his left still gripping his selected capsule.
"Akai, right?" Giovanni said, in what he clearly thought was a comforting voice. But after his display, it felt vaguely threatening. "You must be Isamu. I knew your father Takehiko from the war. Well now, why don't you go ahead and show me what Pokémon you picked out?"
Trembling, he tossed the Pokeball gingerly in front of him. "Go… Squirtle."
As the capsule hit the ground, the access port on its face glowed bright red, and the sphere opened. Pokemon who were stored in these devices were converted into digital data for the purposes of preservation and storage. This was just a single component of the brilliant life-changing devices from renowned inventor Sonezaki Masaki.
With his matter transmitting computers, Pokemon could be converted to digital data, saved, transferred, stored and only made living flesh when they were required. And, astonishingly, despite all the artifices, the creatures retained their memories, personality and even their general physical condition no matter how long they were stored as data.
Of course, if a Pokemon died, there was no number of Sonezaki-powered miracles that could bring them back.
"Ah, Squirtle. A water type, and durable besides. I prefer ground types myself, but still a fine choice," Giovanni muttered, as though the entire sentiment was a script. He turned to Blue, and gave the curtest of possible nods. "Now you."
Tears were running down Blue's eyes. Red cursed himself. He had egged this situation on, because he had been too childish to understand what was at stake. Neither boy wanted this to happen.
"Go… Charmander," Blue forced out between stifled sobs. The Pokeball dropped to the ground, seemingly with enough force to trigger the release mechanism, and the fiery salamander appeared a few paces from Red's Squirtle.
"Well, that's unlucky," Giovanni smirked. "Fire types are weak to Water. But let's see how you do. Let the battle begin!"
Red hesitated for only a moment. Regardless how he felt, he knew what was expected. Maybe if he ended it quickly, Giovanni would be satisfied, and maybe then Blue would be allowed to stay in Pallet Town with Oak. He had heard rumors of "re-education centers", where problem individuals were sent. They were only rumors, of course, but only because nobody had returned from them.
"Squirtle," Red said. "Tackle!"
The tiny turtle stood barely two feet tall, about a half foot shorter than Charmander. But it charged with its full force, ramming shell-first into the lizard's torso.
"Well now," Giovanni mused, carefully observing the battle as he took another drag from his cigarette.
Blue clenched his fist angrily, still in a fit of hysterical sadness. "Charmander! Scratch!"
The searing red claw scraped against Squirtle, but the tough shell was hardly even tickled by the feeble attack. Red couldn't help but notice that the flickering flame was already beginning to peter out from just the single attack.
"Now, Isamu," Giovanni said. "I'm sure you know that your little friend- "
There was something in the way the gym leader pronounced that word which sent lightning through Red's veins. An utterly unwholesome quality to the title which belied the fact that Giovanni had never known or wanted anything approaching a "friend".
"- can do so much more than just throw his weight around. Go ahead. You can win this easily."
This wasn't a suggestion. It was an order. A death penalty sentenced by a government official who had given the axe to an unwilling child.
"Squirtle," Red said, the lightning in his veins turning to ice at the injustice of it all. He could turn it all off. Maybe if he tried very hard, he could feel nothing. "Water Gun."
Okhido "Blue" Aoi, Pallet Town, Age: 10
Blue had spent all morning excitedly flipping through the various entries in the Pokedex his grandfather had given him the night before. He had turned ten back in April but was forced to wait until school let out at the end of May before he could begin his journey.
He knew some children were sad to go. Some whined and complained or cried because they had to leave their parents behind. But his father was Okhido Niko, hero of the Great Patriotic War. And like his father before him, he would be ready to do whatever his country needed from him.
His grandfather Yukinari – though everybody just called him "Professor Oak" – had raised him up to be a good Kanto citizen. He told him that times might be difficult, but the nation was strong, and its strength was in its people. His older sister, Nanami, recited the same thing. She had been spared the yearly tradition as she was fourteen when the law went into effect. However, she still did her duty to help their grandfather in the lab as often as she could.
Sister (elder): Okhido Nanami, Pallet Town
Grandfather: Okhido Yukinari, Pallet Town
Father: Okhido Niko, X
Mother: Okhido Mizuki, X
Blue felt the bitter sting of this entry twice over. First, the knowledge that his grandfather had penned almost every entry in this device by himself, which must have caused him a good deal of anguish. Second, in the casual reminder that both his mother and father were gone. His father had, of course, died defending the Indigo Plateau during the war. His mother, overcome with grief at his passing, took ill from one of the ravaging foreign diseases that the Alolan swine carried with them.
"I will be the best," Blue promised them. "I will make you both proud of me. For Nanami and Grandfather too."
This was on that national day of mourning; the full moon during the month of May, those four years ago. It had been a Sunday, but for the life of him Blue could not remember which day of the month it had been. Not that it mattered. Government holidays and days of remembrance were based on the lunar cycle, not the numeric calendar.
And as Blue stood over the closed caskets bearing the bodies of his parents, holding back his tears like a good little patriot, his sister Nanami came up from behind him, umbrella in hand, shielding them both from the downpour.
A few graves down, Blue saw his classmate, Akai Isamu; "Red". Unlike Blue, he was openly weeping as his mother held him in his arms. Not only was he allowed to express his grief; he had a mother's caress in which to do it. Blue stood like a statue, fearful of letting even a single tear betray his weakness. And Red sobbed like a baby. They had both lost much, but he had lost more.
The anger threatened to consume him. So long as this infant wanted to cry over his misfortune, Blue vowed he would earn every tear he wasted that day. He would be a vessel to express the grief Blue was denied.
"Gramps!" Blue called, as he laid back against one of the warm grey terminals, "You remember, right?"
"I did," Professor Oak replied, making some final adjustments on the Pokedex which would be going to Red. "But remember, the law requires we let the youngest pick first. Still, two to one, you may yet get lucky."
"But I really want Squirtle," Blue whined. "Can't you hide it away for me?"
"That," Professor Oak said, with a patient laugh. "Would be against the rules. You wouldn't want to be accused of being disloyal, would you?"
"No, sir!" Blue replied hastily.
He would not. Okhido Aoi was a good boy. A good citizen. A proud son of Kanto. And there was no disgrace worse than disloyalty. He would wait, patiently, and take his chances. Besides, if he knew Red, he would probably pick Charmander, the fire type anyway.
Anxiously, he chewed on the collar of his purple turtleneck, his spiky brown hair flopping down in front of his face as he read through every sentence of his grandfather's entries on Squirtle, Wartortle and Blastoise.
This final evolution had a single footnote of cultural significance; a fact that always made Blue beam with pride.
"Historical Note: During the Siege of Indigo Plateau, Kanto Region, during the Great Patriotic War, a Blastoise trained by Okhido Niko singlehandedly repelled the invading force of Unovans."
"I'm gonna be just like father," Blue declared proudly as he shut the Pokedex and slid it into his jeans pocket. "I'm gonna make you all so proud. I'm gonna be the very best."
Oak watched with muted disappointment as the last flicker of the Charmander's tail flame puffed out. The poor creature breathed its last, and Blue was inconsolable. And yet, there were no tears. He had learned the lesson; what his emotional outburst had cost him. The young boy stood, holding back tears, and waiting to see what other torment the government official had to offer.
Ever since the end of the war, the government had come to an agreement with Unova and Alola. They retained sovereignty, indeed. So long as they answered to a council of the foreigners who would keep them in line. As part of this indignity, they handed over all of their weapons of war. Guns, mortars, cannons, shells, all of it gone overnight.
However, no provisions were made for the native creatures. Alola never considered them a threat, and Unova believed the forced pacification was enough. Now, there was no standing army. Just trainers, and gym leaders, such as Giovanni. Each Gym Leader was charged with testing the new breed of warrior and acting to ensure only the strongest rose to the upper ranks.
But Giovanni was in his own breed. A vicious bastard, to be sure. But worse were the rumors that he was in fact a Unovan sleeper agent; one who led the underground criminal syndicate known as Team Rocket.
Yukinari did not want to believe it. His government was surely wiser than to let that happen. And yet, it would explain the sudden ire against the son of one of their national heroes. The Unovans had taken his son. The Alolan Plague had taken his daughter-in-law. Would some scoundrel – some spy – now take his grandson?
"A painful lesson is a memorable lesson," Giovanni explained, with a vicious grin still etched across his face. He ashed the cigarette and put it out on the dead Charmander's forehead. "But even in defeat you can serve a purpose. You've just given us some more fodder for other – stronger – Pokemon."
With a wave of Giovanni's hand, two of the scientists took the corpse and moved it through a side door into another room. There was a whirring sound, then the noise like a vacuum pump that made Oak slightly sick every time he heard it. Another of Sonezaki's masterpieces: the machine that turned biological material into nutrient rich "candies", which were fed to Pokemon to make them stronger.
"Now, you begin your journey a failure. But lucky for you, there is one other Pokemon here," Giovanni said. He turned to Oak and nodded his head sternly. "Help your grandson, Yukinari."
Professor Oak returned the nod, injecting as much animosity as he could without risking outright disrespect. He grabbed the final Pokeball and thrust it somewhat forcefully into Blue's hands.
"Bulbasaur is a Grass Type," Oak explained, hoping the love he felt somehow spoke through the rigid tone which he adopted. "Perhaps your next battle will go better."
"Perhaps it shall," Giovanni said, walking over to Red and placing both hands on his back. It felt more or less like the same sort of gesture with which one displays a trophy. "But this young man seems to have the proper spirit. He just needs some encouragement."
Giovanni shook Red slightly before letting go of him and making his way towards the door. Oak's suspicion was not allayed in the slightest, but there was little he could do at this moment.
"Oh, Yukinari," Giovanni added as an afterthought. "I'm afraid I'll have to close Viridian Gym for a little while. I've some business to attend to in Celadon City."
"Celadon City?" Oak asked. "What's there?"
Giovanni shrugged. "I go where his excellency needs me, and presently he has asked me to assist Leader Erika in dealing with a local 'pest problem'. Surely you understand."
Oak nodded and offered him a parting bow. "As you will, Leader."
Red and Blue stood together at the border of town. Professor Oak was with them, along with Red's mother and Blue's sister. The boys had been gifted belts for the occasion, on which one could fasten six Pokeballs. Red had his chosen Pokemon, which he had dubiously nicknamed "Lucky". Blue had the Bulbasaur he received as a last-minute reprieve. He would not be going to jail for his outburst, nor would he be forced to stay in Pallet Town and miss his calling as a trainer. Red expected he would be happy, even grateful. But the mood was dour all around.
"You be safe now. I know you'll be traveling by different roads, but please, when you can, try to look after one another. You're both representing Pallet Town after all," Oak said, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.
"If you ever get tired of your journey," Red's mother began, pushing Oak aside to pull the boy into a hug. "You can always come back and stay with me for a little while."
"I'll be okay, mom," Red said, mustering as brave a face as he could. There were no more tears he had to shed. At least not for today.
"Don't worry about me, Gramps," Blue butt in. "I'll be the champion before you know it. I may have lost today, but I'm just getting started!"
Nanami bent down and hugged her little brother, clutching something in her hand. Red didn't bother to wait for them to finish their embrace. He wanted to get on the road as soon as possible. Hopefully the rest of his trip would be brighter. He turned for just a moment at the border of the forest and saw what Nanami was holding: a black umbrella. It felt strangely like that day of mourning four years prior.
It was raining that day too.