Rodney remembered Cherrygrove city very well. There had been many times he had begged his mother to take him to New Bark Town's neighboring city as a kid and even well within his pre teen's and that only for one reason. The sunny and calm sea shore to the city's west coast. While Rodney's hometown had it's on beach it certainly wasn't very appropriate to go swimming in since severe and dangerous waves were not an uncommon occurrence there. Back in the day Cherrygrove's west shore had been a popular place to meet for the youths around the area, so Rodney and his only friend Scott Leary had often gone there too. For most of the kids there it had been a place to be free and being without parental supervision, which is why most of them were pretty annoyed every time Rodney and Scott came there. His mother Thereza had been too scared to let him go there alone, so she insisted on coming along and while Rodney would have never said so back then, he was quite relieved by that since he had never been a really good swimmer and constantly worried about drowning, if his mother hadn't been there with him and Scott. Rodney hadn't really cared much for the other kids there and had no problems ignoring them altogether, but when he once overheard one of them saying how pissed off he was because Rodney's mother was always there, he had never dared to go back to the relaxing Cherrygrove sea shore again. The teenager's mood dropped even further just by thinking about these past experiences. It was nothing more than a reminder of how much of a coward he was back then and is to this day. He thought by accepting this task he could convince himself that he had grown out of his insecurities and he had seen this as a chance to proof that he was more than a meekly coward, but the fact that he felt more unsettled than he had ever before just by thinking about what he had got himself into, certainly didn't help that.

"Hey kid," a raspy voice called out as Rodney wandered through the alleys of Cherrygrove city, "you seem kinda lost there."

Shocked due to being torn out of his memories and self-depressing thoughts, Rodney turned around directionless looking for the source of the voice until an old, almost completely bald man with a white beard put a hand on his shoulder and spun him around. His amused smile told Rodney quite clearly that he must have looked pretty stupid swirling around like that like a jolted Spoink. "So am I right? You don't seem to be from here."

"Well, ehm, yeah I'm actually from New Bark Town." the newly minted trainer replied hesitantly while trying to keep moving. The elderly man however, easily stopped him from doing just that. "Well, then let me show you around."

Rodney was lost for words at the moment. The man seemed awfully enthusiastic to actually show him around and point out all kind of things to him, which made Rodney feel bad to turn him down, but on the other hand he knew that he shouldn't linger around longer than necessary. The elderly man took his hesitation as an approval and started to walk ahead while happily rambling on. Rodney had always hated how he could never say no to others.

"A whole ton of young trainers come by this lovely town you know. Even though I'm not quite sure why, after all here isn't much of interest for aspiring pokemon champions. I guess it's because all these trainers travel through the whole country without actually looking at their pokegear maps and just follow the paths that lay ahead of them blindly. These journeys have quite something to them, don't they? It certainly helps them young chaps gaining some life experience, one wouldn't get without them. How to take responsibility, how to bond with and trust your pokemon, how to get past chest-high trees..."

Rodney frowned at the last part of what his city guide told him, but decided to let him blather on. "And this right here," the old man said while gesturing at the big building with an remarkable red roof, "is the Cherrygrove Pokemon center. There you can heal your exhausted pokemon and all that for free. A great service, don't you think? Of course you could always give your pokemon some nice Fresh water, but oh well nevermind..."

Perking up at the opportunity to avoid this conversation any further, Rodney decided to take his chance. "Oh, well thanks. This is were I was heading to."

Sprinting towards the center Rodney let out a sigh of relief when he arrived and the glass door opened automatically. He had never been inside a pokemon center himself, after all he only just received his first pokemon, but because of the depictions in all those movies, Rodney imaged the inside of the pokemon hospitals as a big welcoming hall where trainers from all around the world met and exchanged experience and there was an all around relaxed and open atmosphere. In the movies and TV shows the nurses always came to the trainers and offered their services helpfully and gently cared for the injured pokemon, but when Rodney looked around the reception area all he saw were stressed out nurses, ruffled and worried trainers and deeply injured pokemon. The hall was overfilled with all kinds of people and one could barley walk two steps without bumping into anyone. Cries of agony from wounded pokemon and screams and yells from both nurses and trainers filled the air. Everywhere the pokemon center personal pushed stretcher caring half dead creatures around. Taken aback at what was displayed in front of him, Rodney stood still at the entrance before he was startled by the sound of an awfully high-pitched shriek from a pained zubat from his right. Rodney stumbled forwards until he stood directly in the way of a pink haired nurse who frowned at the sight of the 18-year old trainer. She seemed very worn out and looked at Rodney with an annoyed expression.

"Please get out of the way, there is a severely injured Poliwag that needs my help."

"Ahh, yes, but my pokemon could also use a healing. They're quite exhausted, I think. T-to whom should I go to?"

"We're having more important cases than just some exhausting here. Please turn to the market and heal your pokemon there, yes? And now please get out off the way." the small nurse pushed past Rodney and rushed to a side room from where Rodney could clearly hear some frighting, agonizing yelps. Growing more and more uneasy from the tensed and strained atmosphere at the center Rodney squeezed his way out of the hospital and decided to follow the expert's advice.

Entering the pokemon market next doors Rodney was exposed to a similar if extenuated atmosphere. The market was filled with trainers as well, but at least it was a whole lot quieter. No desperate screams from trainers calling out for help, no agitated medical personal who seemed to be pretty understaffed this morning and most importantly no pain-filled cries from deeply wounded pokemons. After buying some potions Rodney immediately left the market. But even the fresh air outside didn't calm him down, because he dreaded what was going to happen next. Not having the nurses at the pokemon center taking care of his pokemon meant that he would have to fulfill that task.

However, he wasn't quite brave enough to face Rick again after his outburst from before and after all he hadn't had the opportunity to interact with his Sentret yet. After paying special attention to selecting the right pokeball and the red flash had disappeared, a slightly confused and tired weasel like creature materialized in front of Rodney. It looked like it was barley able to hold itself upright as the female Sentret staggered a bit. Her brown eyes looked up at her new trainer questioningly as if she was asking what had happened. Rodney couldn't really decide whether the Sentret was just to weary or intuitive knew that he only wanted to help it, but it still dazzled him that the Scout pokemon didn't stage a protest at all as he began to spray the pokemon's fur with the potion. "Well, hey there, little one. That better now?"

The Sentret flinched from time to time but mostly stayed still during the procedure. Every now and then the small, brown pokemon called out syllables of her name. "I guess you'd want a name as well, right? And I've been thinking about that too, maybe Scout, huh? Like the character from To Kill A Mockingbird. Not that you've read it."

"Sen."

"You're pretty exhausted, huh? Maybe it's best to get back in here." Rodney recalled Scout again. He hoped that her weary attitude wasn't just because she was exhausted, but rather a part of her general personality. It'd be a nice change from Rick that's for sure. He thought about going back to the pokemon center, but he didn't really dare to disturb the nurses there again. A longer rest might just be enough. Feeling a little guilty he tried to push that thought aside and mentally prepare himself for his upcoming confrontation with Rick.

Hesitantly, he pulled the red and white sphere form his belt and took a deep breath before pressing the white button in the middle while aiming at the ground in front of him. After the bright red ray, Rodney had grown used to by now, vanished and the small hedgehog like pokemon stood in front of him, the young trainer moved his arms before his chest in a defensively manner and pressed his shoulders together as tightly as possible. As soon as Rick regained his full form, the Cyndaquil glared at his trainer.

"Don't think I have forgotten about what you did earlier. That was a pretty lousy move. Apparently you're an even worse traitor than that damn Sentret."

Rodney had jumped at little as the flames on Rick's back had erupted during his accusations, but compared to what the timid teenager had expected his pokemon remained oddly calm. At least for him. Slowly kneeling down and starting to rummage through his backpack, Rodney tried speak with Rick carefully. "Hey, I know that wasn't very nice, but I've got something for you here," he excused himself while getting one of the potions out of his back and presenting it to the small fire-type, "You must be pretty tired after all those fights." And all that arguing, he added as an afterthought. Rick eyed the bottle skeptically without showing any kind of emotion.

"Come on, buddy, it'll do you good." Rodney tried to reassure the Cyndaquil, which seemed to have angered him again.

"Pshaw! You're not my buddy!"

For a moment Rodney didn't react at all to Rick's comment. Sure they had already had some disagreements and Rick might or might not had actually intended to hurt him by shooting flames at him, but hearing the small hedgehog actually approaching the touchy topic of their somewhat less than stellar kickoff made his stomach turn. Rodney had always preferred to pretend things didn't actually happened and keep subject that could easily turn awkward dead quiet. Then again a hothead like Rick might just speak before really thinking, at least that was what Rodney talked himself into believing. Rick on the other hand didn't seem to have even notice the effects of his comment. He stubbornly turned his head away from the potion that was held out to him.

"Please. Just accept it. You need to recover." Rodney was glad that Rick wasn't nearly as stricken as Scout and he could probably keep going even without the potion, but the young trainer hoped that the Cyndaquil wouldn't protest against his help. They had still quite some more miles to go until they'd reach Mr. Pokemon's house north of Cherrygrove city.

Without saying a word Rick stepped forward to receive the healing spray from the potion, but avoided making eye contact with his trainer. Rodney didn't want to push his luck any further either. Silently he applied the medicine to the small fire-type pokemon. Neither did he try to recall Rick back into his pokeball. He knew full well that he'd have to make up to his pokemon somehow and hoped that he'd accommodate Rick by following his rules for once, even though he had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time.

Walking down Route 30 happened in complete silence. Rodney couldn't tell whether it was an awkward silence though or not. For him most situations that involved interacting were rather awkward, but he couldn't quite determine if the same applied for the other party as well. As the only house on the secluded Route came into view, Rodney decided to break the silence.

"You really don't see us becoming friends?"

Perplexed, the Cyndaquil looked up. Apparently he hadn't expected a question like this. "I said you are not my buddy."

Rodney didn't say anything in return. He didn't know what he should have said. Once again they fell into silence.

Minutes later they arrived at a single house. It looked more like a wooden cabin than a real house, hidden among some trees in a remote area. Rodney stood in front of the door, but paused to think for a moment. He knew that he'd just have to knock, but he tried to mentally prepare himself beforehand. At that moment he wished Professor Elm would have told him a little more about his colleague.

"Will you just knock already?" Rick groaned impatiently.

Seconds later a dull noise could be heard outside. It sounded like something had crashed inside the house and Rodney immediately jumped at the sudden noise, but didn't have anytime to concentrate on that as the door swung open only moments later and a man wearing a brown suit and a equally brown fedora hat with a blue strap came into view. His hair as well as his walrus mustache were white and his face bore many wrinkles, which let him seem like he was in his fifties or sixties. Eying up his visitor Mr. Pokemon soon began to smile.

"You must be that boy Martin send, right?" the older man asked holding out his hand to greet Rodney, "Come in. Hey Samuel, look who finally arrived."

Rodney just nodded at Mr. Pokemon's question and looked up at the pokemon collector and hobby researcher as he was shoved into the house. The first thing he noticed inside was a fallen over wooden chair that lay on the ground next to a table on which lots of folders and papers lay scattered around. That must've caused the crash from before. Without having to ask Rodney concluded that Mr. Pokemon must have stood up so abruptly from the chair when he heard the knock, that he must've pushed the chair over accidentally. The researcher's soon noticeable eccentric nature was Rodney's main argument for his thesis.

It didn't take long before another man emerged from an adjoining room. He was slightly shorter than Mr. Pokemon and his light grey hair was combed leftwards. Sharp features, thick eyebrows and dark eyes, that showed a certain wisdom, reflected off his face. His red shirt and brown slacks were covered a bit by his long white lab coat.

"Oh, hello there. Seems like you already met Thom-Mr. Pokemon here. My name is-"

"Professor Oak. Of course I know you. Everyone does." Rodney interrupted the elderly man's introduction.

The foremost expert on human and pokemon relationship was a bit taken aback, but recover soon enough and laughed quietly. "Well, you're flattering me there, but it seems you have an advantage there."

Mr. Pokemon who had by now picked up the fallen chair again, sqt down back at the table and waited for his visitors to do the same. Rodney was still irritated by the professor's comment until he realized he was asking for his name. "Rodney Philips. Professor Elm send me to deliver these files."

"And it seems like he gave you a pokemon to accompany you as well." the professor remarked as he nodded at the same time. The old man pointed at Rick, who had been silent until now, and looked back to the Cyndaquil's trainer, "So I'm assuming he has brought you into the loop, huh?"

Professor Oak's observation reminded Rodney of why he was even there. The same tensed feeling that he had when he had entered Cherrygrove city spread in every muscle of his body again. For a moment it almost felt like his fleeting visit was nothing more than a simple nice chat, but that feeling vanished as soon as it came. "Y-yes."

"Good luck then, Rodney Philips. By the way you'd better watch out for you're trainer's license. It seems like there are more and more complains over lost or stolen license at the local police departments recently." Oak explained as he moved over to the table and sat down next to Mr. Pokemon.

"Trainer's license?" Rodney asked dumbfounded. He didn't remember receiving anything like that.

The pokemon expert who had been cooling down his tea by blowing over it looked up at the teenager with a flabbergast expression. "Don't say Martin forgot to issue you one. That kid is way too scatterbrained for his young age. I swear if I had gotten a dollar every time he had forgotten to put his name on his essays back at the university, I would have gotten rich even without making a single discovery."

Agitated the experienced scholar stood up again and walked over to an cupboard to pull out a digital camera from the top shelf while grumbling something about forgetting someone's own relatives' name. "Come on, we gotta make one. You're obliged to own one to even be allowed to train your pokemon and challenge the gym leader. Not to mention if a league official would want to see it." Professor Oak motioned for Rodney to come where he was while turning on the small, silver camera. He held the camera in front of his face and squeezed through the lens. Without a warning the professor pressed the actuator and a bright flash reflected off Rodney's face. While Oak went to the computer on the right side of the room, Mr. Pokemon signaled Rodney to come sit down at the table. The collector had used the time cleaning up the table and had all the papers and documents that were scattered around before neatly organized into several piles. Rodney did as he was told and sat opposite of Mr. Pokemon. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the photo Oak had took seconds ago of himself being displayed on the monitor. Despite not really caring about his appearance all that much, the teenager did raised his eyebrow just a little. Due to his even paler than usual face and the deep blue circles under his eyes, it looked more like a mug shot of an criminal junkie than an appropriate picture for an identity card. "So tell me now, what did professor Elm wanted us to see?"