Chapter 2
Corrals at Oak's laboratory are carved from rock. Wooden sheds can't obstruct the brash and proud Ponyta from galloping toward freedom. Their manes fume, choking the air with smoke as I cage them inside, but confinement is necessary to keep them safe; the weatherman promised thunderstorms throughout the night.
A chorus of whinnies abound when the first raindrops fall. I shoot the Ponyta, cramped but dry, an exasperated look before heading off. The downpour forces me to sprint: past the lab, past barnyards, past abandoned lots and wilting gardens, past rows of slumping houses until I find mine.
My younger brother's absence fills our home. For the past three years, newspaper clippings have crept across tables, countertops, and the floor. One is framed: a front-page feature titled "The Two Boys from Pallet Town: A Test for Pokemon League Reform."
"Daisy," a voice says.
I don't believe it's him until my head turns right. A man stands in the corner, veiled beneath a cloak. Lightning flashes through the window as he lifts his hood: Blue.
"You're back." The only words I manage to say. Our tearful embrace lasts mere seconds before he breaks off.
"We have to go," he says. "Quick."
He tosses a poncho onto my shoulders, shoves a backpack into my hands, and drags me outside. My fingertips extend for the door, to push it closed, but it's out of reach, and the newspapers near the entrance tumble and grow soggy as I'm whisked away. "What's happening?" I ask.
The silhouette of a bird falls upon us. Its talons clutch my shoulders, while Blue leaps on its back.
My screams persist ten minutes before I regain composure; I can't help but look beneath us and imagine plummeting down. We fly southwest, above the water. Route 27 and Route 28 loom in the distance, so we must be crossing over to Johto. Flickers of lighting expose black dots marching east, toward Kanto.
"What's happening?" I repeat. Rain, thunder, wind. "Blue?"
"The air won't be safe past this point," he shouts above the flapping wings. "We'll swim the rest of the way." Pidgeot dives toward the water, but before we crash, Blue's Gyarados surfaces. We cling to its body, while the waves rock around us.
A rallying screech pierces the air. A flock of bird Pokemon and their trainers soar above us, toward Mt. Silver. "Good, Falkner didn't spot us," Blue says.
For a second, the ocean calms down and my balance steadies. Thunder continues to fire in the distance, but the rain has reduced to a soft patter. This is my chance.
"You have to tell me what's going on."
"You have to trust me, Daisy."
The more questions asked, the more he withdraws. There isn't time or energy to pursue my thoughts as the storm returns; all my mental and physical exertion focuses on gripping this Gyarados scale and staying onboard. One particular question does linger as I hang on: What happened to Blue's Squirtle? Shouldn't it be a Blastoise by now?
The moon is descending when my knees buckle against the shore. "You'll be safe in New Bark Town," Blue says. He's barely audible; a fog clouds my mind. I won't realize until tomorrow how high my fever is, not while the cold ocean drench masks my sweat and disperses the heat.
His outstretched palm offers a rectangle of plastic. There's sequences of letters and numbers—gibberish to me. A data of birth written with year before month, in the Johto style. My portrait next to a name: Leah Aurel.
My brother takes a step back. I latch onto his hand.
"You can't go."
A gust swells around us, sand blows into my eyes, I cough and blink, and my grip breaks. He's gone.
The next day, Johto declares war on Kanto. Within a month, Pallet Town is captured.
#
It's been five years since Blue and Red began their journey. Two years since they vanished. I've scoured every Johto newspaper for information and only found one editorial, four years back, using their story to highlight differences between Johto and Kanto's Pokemon training rights.
Now Professor Oak stands in front of me, with answers. "Mr. Pokemon," he says, "it's been a lovely chat. Before I head to Goldenrod, could you spare Elm's delivery girl and I a minute of privacy while you get the package?"
"Certainly." The man in the brown suit bows and exits backdoor.
"Leah Aurel." Oak sneers. "That name authored a paper refuting my theory on Steel-type evolutions. I remember reading it with a burning question in mind: how did Elm's new assistant have such a thorough understanding of my hypothesis." His mocking tone unearths memories. "So it was my former apprentice all along. I trained you for ten years, since you were eleven, and that's how I'm repaid?"
"I warned you to run more controls on that experiment," I say. "Only Elm listened. But don't change the conversation. What happened to the two of them?"
"How should I know?" He shrugs, averting his gaze from my eyes.
"Because Blue was your son."
His laugh is dull and humorless. "An adopted son. You were my adopted daughter, yet you snuck away in the dark."
"It was Blue that night who rescued me, who protected me from the war." Intrigue and surprise flicker across Oak's face before he buries his emotions beneath a shrewd mask. "I know he's alive. You made them Pallet Town's first trainers, you were their sponsor. Where are they?"
There's a long pause as Oak calculates his next move, his next sentence. He's hiding something he can't afford to reveal.
"All of that was mediated through the Kanto Pokemon League, so naturally I lost contact after the invasion," Oak says. "You see, I've changed my citizenship. I'm from Johto, now."
"I'm sure every other citizen from Pallet was granted that privilege." Oak smirks at my sarcasm.
"It turns out another person has received the same luxury. Daisy Oak, my legal daughter, is naturally a Johto citizen, too. Be thankful." When I don't say anything, he continues. "You're always welcome back in my lab. You'd be nearer to your brother that way, wouldn't you?"
"I'd never be let out."
It's typical for him to taunt about his secrets this way, but he's teasing the truth. Somewhere in Kanto was my reunion with Blue.
"It's time I go," Oak says.
The simmering in my heart cools; now it sinks. It feels like he took Red and Blue with him when he walked out.
The other elderly man returns through the doorway with a portable safe.
"So your name is Mr. Pokemon?" I ask, trying to refocus.
"It's a code name," he says with a gruffness to his voice. "Tell it to a six-badge or higher league agent if you're in a pinch of trouble." He sets the vault on the table and unlocks it. "Hide this in your backpack until you return to Professor Elm."
Red and white shapes speckle the Pokemon egg. The shell is as cold as Mahogany ice, but warmth pulsates through my hands and into the rest of my body. Not a physical warmth, like heat emanating from a flame. An emotional one: waves of familiarity and assurance wash over me to soothe my doubts. I drop my egg into my backpack, and the sensation evaporates. I look at the door and think of Blue standing there with his back turned.
My pocket buzzes. Mr. Pokemon leaps onto the table in a battle stance and snatches several Pokeballs hidden beneath his coat.
"It's my phone," I whisper with the air remaining in my lungs. I'm on the floor; I jumped several feet back. He lowers his guard as I take the call. "Hello?"
"Leah, thank goodness you picked up, where are you right now?" It's Elm's voice, shrill and panicked.
"Just got the package, I should be back by tomorrow. Is something wrong?"
"Wrong? It's a disaster, just terrible, I don't know what to do. Someone stole the Cyndaquil, the Cyndaquil from the Ditto project. The police are searching New Bark Town, but no one knows what the thief looks like or if he's still here, and the trainers around Cherrygrove aren't interested in helping. Please, please, can you make it to the city tonight? Stop anyone suspicious you meet?" I can hear him panting on the other end.
"I'm on my way."
Mr. Pokemon waves farewell and mops up his spilled coffee. For a second he shuts his eyes, as if to take a nap, before his head jolts up, and he spins around in search of invisible assailants that haunt him.
