Note: The first section of this chapter is written in the POV of Ryan's Abra. As such, when he speaks, it will be written in English, but none of the humans will be able to understand him (and they will think he's saying "Abra ra ra" etc. whenever he speaks). This is similar to the episode "Island of the Giant Pokémon" from the Indigo League arc of the Pokémon anime. I hope this isn't too confusing.

It was just as they had left it: the same little, two-story house; the same freshly-mowed lawn; the same blue door to let them in; the same smells, the same colors, the same sounds. Abra remembered the first time he had seen this place - that had been when Ryan's father, Richard, had bought him. That had been many years ago. Yet, as Ryan carried Abra in his arms and walked up to the door, the psychic Pokémon felt that same old anxious feeling he had felt the first time he had been carried to this home.

Ryan knocked three times, and after a short pause, his mother opened the door.

"Oh, Ryan, you're here!" she said, beckoning her son and Abra inside. "You look terrible, Ryan. What happened?"

"Oh, uh, nothing," the boy replied, laughing nervously. "Just been out battling a bunch, that's all."

Abra, of course, knew that was a lie. The previous night, he and Ryan had partied all throughout Acapulco, and his master had been in rare form. In truth, Abra knew not why Ryan had done that - the teal-haired boy had always been on the quieter side, not one for parties or mayhem. Nevertheless, Ryan's mother did not press the issue, and they stepped inside.

The house was just as Abra remembered it, and the same old wretched Pokémon were still scurrying about inside: sniveling Squirtle, who tattled if someone even breathed out of turn; lethargic Persian, who liked to take Abra's prime sleeping spots; and, of course, the worst of the bunch - Butterfree. That little bug irked Abra the most, not only because it was super effective against him, but because it liked to coat the house in Sleep Powder. And while Abra liked to sleep (a good day was a day of almost total sleep), he hated that the Sleep Powder would often cause him to fall back asleep after already getting his beauty rest. He had tried to tell Ryan's mother about that back when he had still lived here, but she didn't seem to understand him like she understood her Squirtle.

Ryan and his mother walked off to the kitchen to talk, leaving Abra in the living room. The stuffy, carpeted place was barely-lit, save for a sliver of light that came from a window peeking out to the backyard. In front of that window was a tall cat tower that would have been a great invention for cats, but since there are no cats the Pokéworld, this tower was for Abra - and Persian. Richard (or Richie, as he had been known back in his Pokémon Trainer days) had bought that specifically for his two Pokémon. At this moment, however, Persian was asleep on the top platform, sunning himself with the light of the morning. He was snoring too. Abra hated how that ugly cat snored.

Grumbling to himself, Abra waddled forward and used his psychic abilities to pick Persian up and gently set him down on a lower platform of the cat tower, out of the sun. This was a well-practiced art, one that he had mastered during the many sleep wars between him and Persian that had taken place before the start of Ryan's journey. The Persian didn't even wake up.

Gleefully, Abra scampered up the carpet tower, digging his claws deep in the padding as he went. That always felt really good. When he reached the top, he found the sleeping area already warmed for him (how kind of Persian) and sat down for a nap.

Then, he heard a door creak open, and out into the backyard strode Ryan, disheveled and slightly hung over, but chipper nonetheless. He walked over to an open area with a thin, short pen around it, and walked inside. Abra could spy with his Brock eyes that inside that pen were familiar Pokémon - Ryan's Pokémon. These were the ones he had captured but couldn't hold on his team, Abra knew. Richie had done the same thing when he had been a trainer. He had managed to capture a lot more Pokémon than Ryan, though, even on his first journey.

In that pen, Abra spied the Nidorino Ryan had accidentally caught a long time ago back in Pallet Town. He saw his master embrace the little purple creature, as if they had met for the first time. So too in the cage were Matata and Clawey, two of Ryan's first Pokémon, and two that Abra himself remembered quite fondly. He remembered especially how Matata (who had been a mere Kakuna at the time) and him had defeated Lt. Surge for Ryan, to earn the boy his first Gym Badge. Ryan had been so proud of them for that. It made Abra feel warm inside when he remembered that.

Also in the area was the Muk that Ryan had just caught. Abra wrinkled his nose and thought he could smell the stench of that monster even from his perch. He had no idea why Ryan had caught such a disgusting and hideous-looking Pokémon. He watched as, when his master went to embrace his Muk, the Muk lurched forward and swallowed the boy up in his goo. Ryan screamed like a girl, reminding Abra of the great Koga.

In a pond in the pen, there was also a Magikarp and Squirtle - two additional recent catches of Ryan. Despite all that Abra had been through with Ryan, he found it odd that the boy kept him on his team. He was a mere Abra, a lowly Pokémon, and yet Ryan had not put him in storage, as he had with Matata and Clawey, to test out some of the others. The little Psychic Pokémon could not guess as to why that was.

One thing he did know, however, as he watched his master hug his Squirtle and watch it shoot Water Guns into the air, was that Ryan truly loved his Pokémon. He was their friend, more so than their master, and that was a big difference from his father. Ryan didn't work his Pokémon like his father had: where Richie had commanded a tight, disciplined crew, Ryan was a casual owner, who often let his Pokémon out of their Poké Balls to travel with him, and never made their training too strenuous. That was something Abra's previous master would have never been caught dead doing.

"You stole Persian's place," came the cackle of a keen-eyed Squirtle.

Abra turned around and looked down the cat tower, to where the sneaky lil sneaker stood, hands on his hips, grinning a sharp-tooth grin. "Mind your own business," he told the Squirtle.

"Persian won't be happy when he wakes up."

"Don't wake him up," Abra replied in cold annoyance. "Or I'll glue you inside your shell again."

"That's it, I'm telling Mommy!" the Squirtle whined and ran off.

Abra sighed. "This isn't going to end well," he whispered, and jumped off the cat tower. He walked over to Persian, who was still passed out, his tail fluttering, and his snores reaching obscene levels. Abra swatted at the Persian's tail a few times, in spite of himself.

He followed Squirtle into the kitchen, where Ryan's mother was doing the dishes. Abra thought she looked like Alex, for just the shortest of moments. He quickly determined, however, that her face was not actually whiney. The whiner was, in truth, her pet. Squirtle was tugging at her apron and whining and whining and whining.

She looked down at him and laughed. "What do you want now, Squirty?"

"Abra stole Persian's sleepy spot. I saw it, I saw it, I saw it, I did! Oh, oh, oh!"

"Slow down, boy, I can't understand you," she said sweetly. Then, she looked up and saw Abra peering into the room. "Oh, Abra! It's nice to see you! It's been a while. Here, are you hungry?" she asked him.

"Not really."

"Great, have a berry!"

She tossed him a little purple berry. It was a single berry. Abra had never eaten a single berry before. What was wrong with Ryan's mother? He could not begin to guess. Humans were such weird creatures. Yet, he caught the berry anyways and downed it in a single, sweet gulp. Squirtle complained until he too got a single solitary berry. However, when he went to munch it up, Abra used his psychic powers to pull the berry from the Tiny Turtle Pokémon's grasp. Crunch! came the sound of Squirtle biting down on his own stubby finger. He didn't even see the berry fly right over to Abra's open mouth. By the time Squirtle looked up, tears of pain in his eyes, the berry was long gone. He glanced over at Abra, who was smiling sinisterly.

"No fair, he stole it. Mommy, he stole it! Give me another! I need a berry! It's no fair!" he squealed.

"Come on, Squirty, go play with Abra in the other room," Ryan's mother soothed. "I'm busy now. I don't want all this drama in the kitchen."

"B-but…"

"Out!" she yelled forcefully.

And out the two scampered. Squirtle chased Abra into the living room. There, Abra was cornered. He turned around to face the livid water Pokémon, who was huffing and puffing and sweating like an overweight postal worker.

"No fair," Squirtle complained. "You took my berry."

"No I didn't," Abra wheezed lazily.

"Yes, you did. I was eating it and then it was gone. It must've been you! I know it was you! You always do that stuff to me!"

It was true, Abra had to admit. Back before Ryan went on his journey, Abra had messed with Squirtle almost every day. But the blue-skinned Pokémon had deserved every torment, Abra knew. Snitches get stitches. Every Pokémon - aside from this stupid Squirtle - knew that.

"You're going to pay for that," Squirtle insisted. "I challenge you to a Pokémon battle!"

Abra raised an eyebrow. "Pokémon don't fight other Pokémon," he said. "We need masters to tell us what to do."

Squirtle wasn't listening. He turned on the television, which was on a Pokémon battle channel (Richie's favorite channel now that he was retired). Battle music blared throughout the room, waking even the Persian, who quickly jumped off the cat tower to watch this clash of titans.

"Water Gun!" Squirtle roared.

"Psychic," yawned Abra.

Abra was faster. He had always been faster, and he always would. This went beyond their species' differences, though. Abra was a higher level. He was a grizzled veteran of Pokémon battles, having been through four tournaments with Richie and another he was about to go through with Ryan. Squirtle had probably never battled anyone ever. Ryan's mother never left the house with him. Thus, the Water Gun never went off (which Abra knew, was a good thing, for that would have ruined the carpet). Abra's Psychic attack swiftly silenced his foe, and once Squirtle keeled over in a daze, the Psi Pokémon marched out of the room. He heard Persian from the other room shout after him:

"Hey wait, how did I end up on the lower part of the cat tower?! Did you move me again?! Hey, Abra, get back here!"

Abra scampered off to Ryan's room, to get a little peace and quiet. He had never been in here before. Why would he have? Ryan had not been his master until the moment the two left the house, so he had never bothered going in there. Now, he could.

Inside, the room was dust-covered and dark. He used his psychic powers to flick on the light. The walls were painted blue with clouds painted on the ceiling, and Ryan had a bunk bed made of dark cherry wood in the corner. His room was rather unremarkable, however - a television was in the corner, clothes were strewn about, there were bookshelves of books Ryan had surely never read, and the boy had a fat mini fridge tucked away behind some shelves. Abra walked up to that, opened it, and pulled out a cold soda that had probably been in there for months. He didn't care. He cracked it open and began to sip sweet soda from it. It wouldn't do for Ryan to know that he liked people food and drinks, though, so when he was done, he flung the empty can behind Ryan's bed.

Walking over to the boy's desk, Abra jumped on the boy's desk chair - which was made of black leather and was a spinny chair, much to the Pokémon's delight. He spun himself around many a time, until he felt sick, and then wondered why he had done that. Shaking the dizziness from his frail little body, Abra climbed up onto the desk to see what Ryan had up there.

Abra noticed many a Pokémon magazine - most were battle updates, tournament issues, or issues about the Gym Leaders of Kanto. The one on the very top was a colorful little magazine with a Squirtle, Bulbasaur, and Charmander on its front, all engaged in a three-way battle. In bright yellow writing, the magazine's title said, 'Water, Fire, Grass - Which Starter Is Right For You?' Abra opened the magazine and a little white piece of paper fell out. On it, Ryan had written a list of Pokémon, and crossed most of them out. He had circled Charmander, but next to that, he had written in pen 'Not enough time'. Further down the list, past a myriad of crossed-out Pokémon - including Abra himself - Ryan had circled Persian. Abra dropped the paper and hopped off Ryan's desk chair.

He returned to the fridge and got himself another soda, downed it, crushed up the can, hopped back on Ryan's desk chair and pointed the can into the air like it was a sword. He began to spin the chair again, and pretended he was a powerful Alakazam fighting in the Indigo League.

Suddenly the door opened, and Ryan walked in. "Huh, Abra? What are you doing in here? And what's that you've got in your hand?"

"It's nothing," Abra replied hastily. "I was just playing Dora the Explorer."

"Man, I wish I could understand you," Ryan sighed. He walked over to his dresser and began rummaging through it. "Anyways, you can stay in here if you want. Just don't mess anything up, alright? I have to go talk to mom and dad."

"I won't do anything bad," Abra promised.

Abra's master seemed to understand that, for he nodded, gathered up the clothes he had taken from his dresser, and left the room. It was at that moment that Abra realized he had no idea what they were doing here. Why had Ryan returned home? He had badges yet to collect; he had to sign up for the Indigo League soon if he wanted to get in it. Why was he wasting time bringing Abra back here? Did he just want to see the Pokémon he had caught? Abra suspected not.

He cracked open the door, peering down the hallway. There was no one there, not even Squirtle. All was quiet. Abra crept out. As he walked down the hallway, Abra noticed the door to the living room was shut closed. Was this Squirtle's doing? Persian's?

No, Abra soon learned. In the kitchen were the regulars - all of them, even Butterfree. Squirtle was cackling to himself, and when he saw Abra enter, he said, "Ryan's getting reamed! Ryan's getting reamed!"

Abra frowned. "Why?"

Squirtle giggled but said not another word. Curiosity then drove Abra back to the hallway, to the drawn door. Once there, he put his ear up against the wood and listened in.

"I-I thought it was okay…" came Ryan's distant voice. The boy sounded a good deal sadder than the last time Abra had seen him. "M-mom said it was… it was…"

"I said no such thing," Ryan's mother replied emotionlessly. "I thought he was taking his own Pokémon. I didn't know he was taking Abra."

A chill spread across Abra's body. He stepped back, closed his eyes, and used his psychic powers to listen in on the humans inside the room more clearly. "He's mine," a gruff voice said. "You had no right to steal him." That was Richie, Abra knew. The voice was older, colder than it had been many years ago, but he knew it all the same.

"Bu-but… I didn't have any Pokémon… and you had so many, dad…"

"You never asked me," Richie said.

There was a long pause. "I'm sorry," Ryan said at last. "I… I didn't think you would mind."

"That Abra was one of my favorite Pokémon. I bought him from a breeder," Richie growled. "You should've known better than to take him. He wasn't yours. You can be so stupid, you know that?"

"I've been really nice to him, and he helped me get all of my badges so far… please, can't I keep him until the Indigo League ends? Please? I'll bring him back afterwards."

"No."

"Come on, dad!"

"I said no. That Abra is my damn Pokémon, okay?!" Richie's voice was rising harshly. "You think this is all okay? I bought him. I gave him his TMs. I made sure he was the perfect warrior. The only thing that nitwit didn't do for me was evolve. Hell, if I started my journey with a Pokémon as experienced and powerful as that Abra, I would've had all the badges by now."

"Dad, please…" came Ryan's voice. "I really like Abra. He's an important member of my team. I-I need him." The boy's voice broke with that last line.

"I already told you," Richie spoke. "Now get out of here."

Abra ran back to the kitchen, his body shaking. He jumped up onto a stool, ignoring the stares of Squirtle and Persian and Butterfree. Reaching for a nearby mango, Abra tried to clear his mind of what he had just heard. I don't want to leave master, he thought. Ryan is a good trainer.

The living room door slammed open. Abra saw a blur of teal-hair fly down the hallway back to Ryan's room. Using his thumb claw, Abra stabbed the mango, ripping into its flesh. Mango was his favorite food in the whole world. Abra loved how sweet it was, the fragrance of it, the texture of it. Yet, when he brought the yellow-orange flesh up to his mouth and tasted it, he felt nothing. It was sweet, yes, just as any mango was, but it didn't make him feel good to eat it.

A few moments later, Ryan's mother - a woman Abra had never learned the name of through a series of at least thirteen unfortunate events - and her husband, Richard, walked in. They sat down at the table and poured themselves some cereal.

"He's out of control," Richie said," thinking he could steal a Pokémon from me. If I would've done that to my father, he would've beat me, I'll tell you that."

Ryan's mother did not say a word. Her head was bowed, awkwardly, as she focused on her cereal.

"He's a loser," Richie continued. "Only five badges after all those weeks out there. He should have at least seven by now. And he's barely caught any Pokémon. There's what, five of them out there? That's pathetic. He wouldn't even have one without my Abra. He's going to lose his first Indigo League match if he even gets that far. The kid's fourteen years old, and he's got the intelligence of a nine-year old. He'll get beaten by any ten-year old trainer, I know it. Idiot," he murmured, slamming his spoon into his bowl. "He doesn't even realize how stupid he is. That's the sad part. He's a pathetic trainer. He has no skill and no future with Pokémon. He'll learn that soon enough. His arrogance will get the better of him."

Abra kept digging into the mango, taking bite after bite, hoping for one of them to taste sweet. None did. He thought back to the day he had come to this house for the first time. His breeder, a fat, short woman with curly brown hair, had raised him from birth. He barely remembered her, and didn't even remember her name. He did remember one thing she had told him once, however:

"Remember that this trainer is your new master. You must obey him and battle any other Pokémon he asks you to. But… there is one thing he cannot make you do." She had been carrying him up to the door, just as Ryan had, when she spoke the next line. "You should only evolve if you want to. That is your choice, my little Abra. When, and if, you evolve, you will be changed. You will become different… a part of you will remain I'm sure, but you will not be the same if you choose to become a Kadabra. You should only evolve if you feel like your trainer has earned it from you… only if you are willing to sacrifice who you are for them. Remember that, my dear."

Richie looked up and locked eyes with Abra's. At once, his face broadened into a smile. "Abra!" he said. "Long time no see. Glad to have you back." The man stood up, walked over to Abra, and began scratching him behind his right ear - Abra's most favorite scratchy spot. Abra tilted his head in pleasure. "Don't worry, Abra. You're back. That loser isn't going to be using you anymore."

Abra looked up. Even though Richie was still scratching him, he no longer felt it. "Why?" Abra said. "I like traveling with Ryan. He's a good master."

"That's right Abra," Richie chuckled, patting the Psi Pokémon on the head before returning to his chair. "You're home. You're back with your true master."

Abra didn't know what to think. He liked both of his masters. He liked Ryan and Richie in different ways… but the way Ryan's father was talking about Ryan made Abra feel sick. He didn't know what he could do about it.

Around the corner, Ryan poked his head. His eyes were red and raw, and he had his pack slung over his back. "Alright, I'm leaving," Ryan said solemnly, not looking at his father. "I'll see you a-at the tournament…"

His mother nodded stoically, while his father didn't so much as acknowledge Ryan was there. Ryan bit his lip, looked down, and then walked out.

"Moron," said Richie. "He's never going to accomplish anything. He'll figure that out now that he doesn't have my Pokémon to win all those battles for him."

Squirtle cackled. No one else spoke. The scraping of spoons against glass bowls clamored throughout the room. Abra couldn't take it. No, he thought. It's not right. Ryan's not stupid. He doesn't deserve this!

Before he even knew what he was doing, Abra had jumped off the stool and begun running out of the room. He came to the entryway, where Ryan was standing, getting ready to open the front door and leave the house.

(cue [ watch?v=vaz-wqbWh6Y&feature= &t=34s It's An Ugly Life])

"Wait, come back! Wait! Don't forget me!" Abra was yelling, running as fast as his little legs could take him.

Ryan turned around, saw Abra running up to him, kneeled, and caught the Pokémon in his arms. "Hey buddy," he whispered. "Y-you can't come with me… not anymore…"

"I don't care what Richie said. I want to go with you," Abra replied.

"It's okay, Abra. D-don't worry about me. I'll be fine." Ryan broke off the embrace and stood up. He smiled weakly at Abra. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have taken you to begin with. "But," he said, lowering his voice, "I don't regret it. You were a great Pokémon, Abra. You helped me a lot… and not just with earning all those badges. Y-y-you were a great friend. I'll miss you," Ryan said, his eyes shimmering. He looked like he was about to burst out into tears, but he bit his trembling lip to stop himself. "I'll see you around, Abra. Thanks for everything, buddy."

With that, Ryan turned around, and walked out. The morning was still fresh, and the sun was out, shining bright in the world. The street was empty and quiet.

"Don't go…" Abra called after him, but Ryan just raised his hand, gave a thumbs up, and never turned back around.

Moe's Restaurant had the best ramen in the world. Ryan liked ramen; it was one of his favorite foods in the entire world. He took a table, ordered his favorite chicken and ramen dish, and buried his head in his hands. Outside, cars honked and swished through the streets as rain poured down. It was dark out - probably around 8 pm - so the restaurant would be closing soon. There were few people in the place, aside from Ryan, but he didn't care. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He didn't want to think. Everytime he closed his eyes, every time he tried to think, heat rose from the back of his eyes, and a great lump welled up in his throat. It took all of his strength not to give in to that emotion. Ryan found himself missing Kelly more than ever.

"Hi, Ryan… right? Am I getting that right?" a voice spoke.

Ryan looked up. The boy standing opposite of him frowned slightly upon seeing Ryan - he sees it in my face - but, after a moment, he smiled again and sat down in the chair across the table from Ryan. Ryan didn't stop him. He was too tired to say anything.

"I'm Logan, remember? You saved me from the Bell-Bottom Brigade yesterday?"

That feels like a lifetime ago. "Yep."

The blue-eyed, brown-haired boy had wonder in his eyes. "So… what are you doing here?"

"Eating."

"Well, I know that… but, aren't you like a Pokémon trainer or something?"

"I guess."

"Are you going around Kanto collecting all of the Gym Badges?" Ryan sighed and pulled out his little booklet of five badges. He passed it over to Logan, who opened it and had a look of awe on his face as her perused all of the badges. "Wow, you already have five!"

Ryan looked away and took a deep breath. Not enough to make dad proud. "It's not impressive, really," Ryan told Logan. "Hundreds of trainers get all of the Kanto badges every year."

"Not me," Logan said, shaking his head. "I tried to be a Pokémon trainer, but I got whooped by Lt. Surge. I guess that was a bad gym to pick as my first one!" I would've lost to Surge too, if not for… "And afterwards," Logan continued, "I lost all my desire to keep going. I don't like losing. I don't like it at all. And I realized that I don't like fighting much either. So I decided to become a Pokémon breeder," Logan explained.

"Nice," replied Ryan sadly.

"A-are you okay?" Logan asked.

"I'm fine."

"Oh, good. So if you're a trainer, that means you have three more Gym Badges to get, right?" Ryan nodded. "Where are you going to next?"

"Saffron."

"Aw, that's where Sabrina is. She has Psychic Pokémon! I heard she battles with an Abra, Kadabra, and Alakazam! All three. How cool is that?"

Ryan bit his lip until he tasted blood. He did not look up at Logan. It's not his fault, Ryan reminded himself. He couldn't know. "Why do you care?" he asked.

"Good question. Well, I was wondering if… well, if maybe, I could join you? I always wanted to travel around Kanto, looking for Pokémon to breed and catch and all that stuff… but my Pokémon are so weak… you already saw what happened with Falco and his friends… I don't know if I can travel by myself. It'd be pretty dangerous, I think. But your Pokémon are so strong…"

A waitress walked over with a big bowl of broth and another bowl of ramen and set it down just in front of Ryan. "Thanks," he said to her.

"Eat fast. We're closing in twenty minutes," the woman answered.

Ryan began placing his ramen in the broth with his chopsticks. Once he was done, he reached for a mass of the noodles, covered in chicken in green onions and sweet broth, and took a bite. It tasted nice, but it didn't make him feel better.

Ryan looked up at Logan, who was staring at him eagerly. "Well, what do you say?" Logan asked quickly.

"Sure," Ryan breathed, looking back down at his ramen. "So long as you aren't annoying."

"Great!" Logan shouted, causing a few of the other patrons to glance over at him in bewilderment. "I'm going on an adventure, yeah!"

Ryan remembered back when he had been so happy to set off on his own journey. He had been so full of promise and hope and love for Pokemon. How long ago that had been. He's no Kelly, but he'll do, Ryan thought.

He closed his eyes to savor another bite of ramen, but as soon as the darkness overcame his sight, the figure of a little Psi Pokémon poked through the endless black to gaze back at him. And though he had daggers in the back of his mind, Ryan found he couldn't look away.