CH01 – All boys leave home someday, it said so on TV

This is the part of the story detailing the time between Oak's departure and Aero's mother waking up from an alcohol induced coma. But nothing especially important happened so there's nothing to read. Feel free to make up your own story about how Aero passed the time and paste it here, and then I'll brag about reader interactivity in the summary or something (except not really because I hit the word count already).

Eventually Aero's mother regained consciousness and she cashed in on a little nugget of dignity that she hid away for a rainy day. Aero explained the situation to her off-screen somewhere so I wouldn't have to write about it (see above). Upon hearing that her child was embarking on their very own pokémon adventure and finally getting out of the goddamn house for a change, Aero's mother perked up considerably, despite the hangover.

As it stood, Aero was currently waiting for their mom of the year to finish digging through a pile of unpacked boxes in the closet of the only bedroom in the house after she said to "hold on a sec." Aero thought she was taking things rather well, all things considering, but was getting tired of dealing with unpacked boxes so many times in the span of maybe an hour or two.

"Ah, I found what I was looking for!" Aero's mom poked her head out of the closet's entrance. She said, "Here, hold on to this," before tossing a metallic lump at her child, who jumped back at the unexpected projectile aimed in their general direction. Aero managed to grab it before they got clocked in the face, albeit upside down and in the most unfortunate way possible. Aero's mother returned to rummaging around her slightly less packed box.

Aero stared down the barrel they were inadvertently pointing at their own face. It was a semi-automatic pistol, black in color with "HK45" written along the side. The HK stood for 'H _ _ _ _ _ _ & K _ _ _' (READER INTERACTIVITY OPPORTUNITY: fill in the name yourself! Please don't use something that will get me sued, thanks). It already had a magazine jammed into it. Aero was thankful that the safety was still engaged or said adventure would have come to an abrupt end before it even started, if only by accident. There's a joke in here somewhere about Aero talking about shooting themselves in the face last chapter, but you'll have to write it yourself. Do so here: _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _. I get full credit for your idea, but only if it was actually funny.

"You're giving me a gun?"

Aero's mother answered from the closet. "Yeah, it's my old buddy from back when I still traveled...Oh, there's the spare mags!" She grabbed a couple of .45 box magazines and threw them over her shoulder blindly. "You still remember how to shoot right?"

Aero juggled a potentially illegal firearm into their other hand in an attempt to catch the new objects out of the air before they hit the ground. "Probably? It's been a while though. What the hell does a pokémon trainer need a gun for?"

"Hey, traveling the wilderness is dangerous business! You'll be glad to have it if you run into a crime syndicate in a cave or something...Here, take this too." Aero's mom flung a survival knife in a protective sheathe over her shoulder next.

Aero caught it via mouth before it stabbed them in the face. The magazines got jammed into a jacket pocket temporarily, and the knife was moved into the now freed up hand, seeing as it's hard to speak with a leather-wrapped blade in your mouth. "Don't you think you're going a little overboard here? If ten year olds are doing this stuff, it can't be that dangerous..." Aero was still holding the pistol in the other hand, because they didn't know what to do with it yet.

"Nonsense! You can never be too prepared when you're heading out into the wide world alone. I can't tell you how many times I danced with death during my travels. I had to fight off an enraged charizard with nothing but that knife before. Boy that's a story! I stabbed that fucker's eyes out and put them in a jar as a souvenir. It's in here somewhere..."

"I didn't know you were so hardcore about this stuff...Wait, You don't even have pokémon. When were you a trainer?"

"A trainer? Never. I just traveled a lot when I was younger...they did make me a de-facto champion in Alola though, after I beat all of their totem pokémon in a sumo wrestling tournament. I guess that's a good thing, otherwise we'd both legally be ten now...There's one more thing I wanted to give you yet. Where is it?" Aero's mom felt around the bottom of the box until she found what she was looking for. "Ah, there!" She tossed her child one final parting gift. Aero caught it on their leg, now standing off-kilter on one foot. It was a mundane-looking leather bag.

Aero eyed it up, but no matter how one looked at it, it was just a leather bag. "Is this a potato sack…?"

Aero's mom finally stood up and climbed out of her closet, satisfied with the procured items. "It's a bag of holding! Y'know, like in D&D or whatever, but this one is the real deal instead of a LARP fantasy prop."

Aero stretched the bag open and peered inside of it, but couldn't find the bottom. They decided not to think too hard about it, lest the fabric of reality corrupted in the process. "Do I even want to know where you got something like this from?"

Aero's mother placed a finger against her chin. "If I remember...I won it from a short, bearded guy with an axe in a game of poker one night in some shady tavern. It was a few years before I got pregnant with you and had to settle down."

"Axe like...a guitar?"

"Huh? No, like a battle-axe. Bards are for scrubs." Aero's mother then pointed at the gun still dangling from her child's hand. "There should be a holster for that thing in the bag somewhere. It's an outdated model and there's no quick-sort functionality, but I don't think there's anything else in it right now. Also, don't put living creatures in it; I learned that the hard way..."

Aero decided not to bother asking their mother what the hell she was talking about and instead just tied the bag around a loop in their jeans before then chucking the gun, knife, and extra magazines, that were previously wedged into a jacket pocket, inside of it. Aero figured there would be time to worry about the details later. "Uh-huh...Well, guess I better get going then. That old guy named after a tree told me to stop by before I leave."

"Who?"

"You didn't meet him...you were passed out on the kitchen table."

"Oh, right..." Aero's mother gave a big ol' mom smile, which was rare as of recently since she was usually piss drunk and it's hard to smile when projectile vomit is leaking out of your mouth. "Okay, honey. All boys leave home some day..."

"...That's a little presumptuous isn't it?"

Aero's mother shrugged. "Beats me, I just heard it on TV this morning. All girls leave home some day too, I'd assume. And then you'll get older, and settle down, and get married to an environmental terrorist that cheats on you with younger women..." Her smile was short lived and was quickly replaced with a violent scowl brought on by unhappy memories. "Fuck, I need another drink and I already finished off all of the wine I stole from your stupid fucking father! You think you can run out to Viridian quick and buy me a bottle? There's no liquor store in Pallet. Or any store for that matter...Why did we settle down in Pallet again? This place fuckin' sucks."

"You said it was because the taxes are lower, but I'm not old enough to buy alcohol anymore, remember?"

"What? The drinking age in Kanto is only eighteen. It's very progressive."

"I'm not sure you should be using the word progressive like that, but I'm legally ten now."

"Shit, you're right. This place blows. I knew we should have moved to Johto instead."

"The coffee pot still has that bourbon in it."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that! You're such a good child."

"Yeah sure, let's go with that..." Aero was busy looting a cell phone from it's resting spot next to the alarm clock that wasn't set quite right. "Well see you when I see you, I guess." Aero gave their mother a final half-hearted wave goodbye before stomping back downstairs, making sure to look out for any more empty bottles on the way down, then exited the building through the front door, before heading down the only road in town.