Chapter 3

Two street lamps flank the eastern entrance to Cherrygrove City. One is shattered, the glass fragments lying at the pole base. No one passes by. I crouch in a nearby alleyway, behind a dumpster rattling from the pack of Furret foraging inside. The occasional claw scraping against metal saves me from dozing off.

It's midnight, according to my phone. The thief won't stay in New Bark Town, but they can climb north, toward Blackthorn, or swim east, to Tohjo Falls. There's no guarantee they arrive in Cherrygrove. I stand up, squat back down, and promise myself another half hour. Just in case, for Elm's sake.

Ten minutes later, footsteps echo through the deserted streets. A long shadow stretches through the gate. It's followed by a figure who momentarily glows in the light: red hair, black jacket.

He spots my approach and tries to avoid me with a brisk stride. I call out to him. "Excuse me, do you have a moment?" He walks faster. I do the same. "Excuse me," I say again.

This time, he leans against a warehouse wall and waits. It's a teenager, or a boy in his early twenties at the latest—certainly not older than me. His clothes are dirty, wrinkled, like he's been traveling offroad to hide.

"You look beat up. Do you need help getting to the hospital or somewhere to rest for the night?" I ask.

"I'm fine, thanks." I grab his shoulder before he can walk away. Our heads dart around.

There's nobody but us outside in this ghost town.

"Sorry, I don't have time to talk," he says. "I'm in a hurry."

"What's the rush?" I take out my phone and prepare to call the police. "Where are you coming from? New Bark Town?"

He shoves me aside and snatches a Pokeball from beneath his jacket. "Get that phone, Cyndaquil!" A small mass torpedoes into my hand; something in my wrist snaps. My phone splits into pieces that drop to the gravel. "Now knock her out cold."

"Blair, wait, it's me!" I say through gnashed teeth, clenching my right hand with my left. The Cyndaquil perks her head at the sound of my voice, and there's enough light around us that she can squint at my face. She looks between me and the boy holding her Pokeball, uncertain.

"Cyndaquil, I order you to tackle."

He twists two fingers around the Pokeball's button. Blair shrieks in pain. The electrical current that runs through her body is well beyond what badgeless trainers are permitted to dial when taming unruly Pokemon. She looks at me pleadingly, whimpering.

"Do as I say." Another current courses through her body, and when it subsides, she prepares to spring.

"Belle, tackle!" A flash of light erupts from my Pokeball as the Chikorita intercepts Blair mid-air and they bounce off each other, landing on their feet as they face off. "Great job, one more!"

This time, Belle hesitates. She glances between me and her opponent. She realizes it's her sister that she's tackled.

"Fight. It's the only way we can get her back," I say. The red-haired boy shouts out a command as Blair squeaks another pained cry. Belle understands and bashes her head into the snout of her sibling, who reels back.

"Embler, damn it! A fire move, use a fire move!" Blair hunches over, the flames on her back flaring up before extinguishing into smoke.

"Stop using that Pokeball, you'll kill her! She doesn't know fire attacks. They weren't bred for battle." Belle's next tackle knocks Blair flat onto her back, out cold. "See how weak she's gotten because of that horrible mechanism?" The boy recalls her into the Pokeball and tries to run, but Belle runs past him and cuts off his escape

"You owe me a phone and a cast," I say, grimacing. My wrist throbs. Belle pants. There's a bruise around her right eye and a tear in her leaf. I can't return her, though, or the boy might get away.

"Why'd you do it?" I ask. "Why'd you steal?"

He holds Blair's Pokeball tight against his chest. "In this world, people are powerless without Pokemon." There's no fear or regret, only anger in his voice.

"You can get a Rattata or Sentret for cheap. Or enlist in the Pokemon League. Or join a city's gym militia. You don't have to steal," I say.

"Weak Pokemon, weak trainers, weak rights."

Desperation and grim determination mix on his face. A hopeless yearning for freedom he's not sure exists. I've seen this look before, on Red and Blue's faces as they began their journeys. I've felt this way before, trapped in a web and squirming for escape. It makes sense to me, why he stole.

For a second, our eyes lock in understanding.

He chops at my wrist; a sharp pain spikes through my hand. Belle's Pokeball drops to the floor. He grabs it, turns the knob, and Belle cries out before collapsing. I lunge at him and my handles wrestle away the Pokeball and tear something off his jacket before he shoves me down and flees. My wrist bangs against the ground and for a second, everything flashes white.

By the time I get up, he's gone. The only trace left is a small brooch in my hand with one word carved in it: Silver.

Belle is breathing. Her pulse is steady. But I don't want to take any chances, so I give up my pursuit and take her to the Pokemon Center.

#

"This is all I have," I tell the police in Elm's lab after explaining what happened. I show them the brooch and engraving.

"Silver, huh? We'll check on the possibility that it's his name," one officer says, scribbling notes down. "We won't need to take it, so hold onto it if you'd like." After a few more questions, the police leave. Elm and I are the only ones remaining in the lab; he's ordered all his staff to take the day off.

"I'm sorry, Professor."

"What matters most is you're safe. Though I'm not sure what to do about the Ditto project, if there's a way to salvage the experiment." He frowns, deep in thought. It's a relief to see the franticness subside. "Oh, as far as projects and experiments, I almost forgot. What was the package?"

I take the egg out of my backpack and hand it over. His eyes light up as he holds it, already daydreaming of theories. "Fascinating. This egg—well, there's no need to worry about a lack of research to do. Leah, do you want to work on this?"

"Actually, Professor Elm, I've been rethinking my career." I think about a decade of toiling away inside labs, about my memories of Red and Blue, about the look on Silver's face. I think about the moment of understanding and recognition that thief and I shared. "I'd like to join the Pokemon League, maybe enlist in the military."

Elm looks up from the egg and snaps out of his reverie. "Leah, to be frank, I don't know if you'd pass the background checks. We try our best to ignore it, but everyone in town knows you're a Kanto refugee."

A deep breath. "My name is Daisy, and I am a legal citizen as the adopted daughter of Professor Oak. I'd like to serve my country as a trainer of the Johto Pokemon League."

There's silence for a while as Elm tries to make sense of this. My legs shake. I expect him to refute me again or to call the police.

"A colonist serving in the league is unprecedented, to my knowledge," Elm says. "But I'll help file the paperwork and do my best to vouch for you-oof, not so fast, watch the egg-" He's startled by my embrace and I sob and thank him again and again.

That night is sleepless. So is the next, and the next. There is paperwork, paperwork requests, followed by more paperwork. Several times, Elm disappears into his office for phone conferences, and the sound of heated debate leaks out. Whispers, guesses, rumors about me spark in the lab and erupt like wildfire across town.

A week later, Elm invites me into his office to announce the approval of my training license.

"You've stirred quite the controversy," he says. "There was dissent, but I suspect some of the league's higher-ups like the idea of having a patriotic colonist to show off." He shuffles a set of papers. "A few things still need to be taken care of. First, you need to maintain residency in Johto proper. You can't claim Pallet Town as your current home."

"I guess I'll have to keep paying rent to Anya." A smile escapes my mouth. I don't say it out loud, but with a salary from the Pokemon League instead of Elm, I can finally catch up in housing payments.

"Second, you have to report to Bell Tower in Violet City for briefing and ironing out details, but in the meantime, I've volunteered to serve as the functional equivalent of your gym sponsor. Which means for the third item..."

He hands me a Pokeball. My starter.

"I've seen studies that suggest familiarity with your starter Pokemon helps, so I'd like you to have this Chikorita," Elm says.

"But this is for lab research." I hold the ball back out.

"I'm scrapping the project. Maybe one day, you can get the Cyndaquil back, and we can see how the three and their relationships have changed when separated."

"I'll bring her back, I promise." I clutch Belle's Pokeball against my chest. The fingers of my other hand trace the engraving on the thief's brooch. Silver, I repeat to myself. Silver.

"Best of luck on your journey, Daisy."