I rested underneath the shade of a great oak tree a few miles outside of Celadon City. The morning sun's heat reminded me more of a sweltering summer day than the spring coolness it should had brought. This year had already proven itself to be a hot one. The warmth didn't bother me, I had always found myself at a disadvantage in the cold, but I worried about how unbearable the summer would be if it was already this hot.

In my backpack, I counted a grand total of six pokeballs. I had six chances to capture a new teammate before being forced to buy more pokeballs. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I had searched in the four days since becoming a trainer, no worthy pokemon presented themselves. The pokedex indeed mentioned that the stronger pokemon in the surrounding routes were rare, but it hadn't impressed on me just how rare they were until I started searching.

Before long, I'd settle for a weedle. It would obey far better than Seb and a beedrill's foot-long stingers were nothing to poke fun at. The only problem with such a lethal killer was its type. Bug pokemon stood out to me as frail and squishable.

And I'd quickly realized that pokemon died in the wilderness. In Unova, people regarded pokemon training as a honorable pursuit. It hadn't occurred to me that death was a natural part of battling, although now it seemed painstakingly obvious. After all, how could the creatures fight without an occasional death? And what was more, the pokedex included information on how to hunt and consume various species.

With this in mind, how could I choose a pokemon as fragile as a bug?

I held Seb's pokeball and considered letting him out. A bite would be less than helpful to my gloomy mood, but I needed the company. I released him in a flash of light. He flicked his tongue, tasting his surroundings, and glowered at me.

I knew he took those first few seconds to consider if it would be worth it to strike. "I'm not in the mood for any bullshit," I warned.

He accepted this. At the very least, I had chosen a pokemon who could understand human speech. From watching others I had figured out that pokemon didn't immediately understand human words or even their own names. It made teaching them moves and battle strategies extremely difficult, but Seb didn't have this setback. He was intelligent enough to have already learned human language, or at least enough of it to understand the gist of my words.

I wasn't his first trainer, I figured. He didn't listen to me, but he recognized four moves from the pokedex: wrap, leer, poison sting, and bite. Another trainer had taught him to utilize these moves and recognize their names. I wondered if they had also named him. Perhaps Seb hadn't been his first name. Had someone raised him as a beloved pokemon then abandoned him, or had they only raised him enough for someone to start with?

"Are you hungry?" I asked. I had to take my mind off my current thoughts. His eyes narrowed to slits at my question, and I shook my head at the malice contained within. "Look, I already said I'm not gonna starve you. And nothing's laced with poison or the like. You're eating the same stuff I am."

Once I trusted him, I could allow him to wander free and hunt his own food. That day was undoubtfully far away if it even existed.

I placed a couple chunks of uncooked meet a few feet from the tree, far enough that they were out of my reach yet close enough that he'd have to come near me to eat. He didn't move, but I knew he'd eventually give in. Our meals usually ran like this.

Nibbling on a flattened sandwich, I cursed myself for not placing it at the top of my gear. I'd have to remember next time to keep the food above anything heavy. I'd managed to find my backpack for cheap at a pawn shop, and like a pokeball it'd have far more room inside than one might believe. Most things in Kanto contained this technology, from the original pokeballs to refrigerators to expensive one size fits all shoes. Technology truly was a wondrous thing.

I rummaged inside my backpack to occupy myself while waiting for Seb to chance snatching the meat. At the bottom of my bag I had stashed my official Team Rocket uniform. I hadn't tried it on yet, but the black and red outfit seemed intimidating enough from what I'd seen of others. I'd been warned, however, that there were a few places which wouldn't take kindly to someone wearing Rocket colors.

This made sense after I learned that Team Rocket had only last year taken over the government, and there were a few places still bitter about this. People resisted change, after all. I hadn't been there to see, but for all I knew the takeover might had been bloody. They were a fair organization and definitely a better government than whatever corruption had been in place before, however.

In a way I had signed up to be an enforcer of the law. This was a weird concept to accept. I only wanted to do what my parents never allowed me to do, which was to raise fighting pokemon.

And looking at Seb, I doubted if he could ever uphold the law. He couldn't even obey me, his trainer; why would he follow human laws? I had to look at him as nothing more than a weapon unless he suddenly started obeying me. A lethal weapon that could suddenly blow up in my face.

"Fight me!"

I startled at the sudden shouting interrupting my thoughts. Seb appreciated the interruption even less, judging by the rattling of his tail.

The trainer put one hand on his hip and held a pokemon in the other. A green caterpillar the size of my head, it was no doubt a caterpie. "C'mon, you gonna fight or not?" he asked. With both his hands occupied, he couldn't brush his greasy brown hair from his eyes. I estimated him to be a year younger than myself and far less competent.

I stretched, taking my time to answer the impatient trainer. "Why should I?"

"What, you scared? Should be, we're gonna wipe the floor with you and then some." Both he and his pokemon had absolute faith in this statement. I snorted and glanced and Seb. Despite our differences, he obviously had the same disdain for the pair. Probably even more.

I had my reservations about fighting the kid. It would be our first battle against a trained pokemon, and I had no idea how Seb would react. What if he ripped the caterpie to shreds? I didn't think there were any official rules against killing a trainer's pokemon, besides the obvious social stigma against it, but it would still weigh against my conscience. Not to mention that it wouldn't take much effort for Seb to rip open the bug's belly and spill its intestines into the grass.

Sitting in silence, I didn't realize how long I took to answer until the trainer spoke again. "Please? He only needs one or two more battles until he feels he'll be ready to evolve."

Great, we'd be murdering a pokemon right before it evolved. Way to crush a kid's dreams.

"No."

"Fine!" he yelled as the caterpie hissed in his hand. "We'll beat you anyway! String shot!"

Needless to say, Seb didn't take kindly to the glob of silk which then splattered in his face. Nor did I enjoy being dragged into a battle. I leapt to my feet, balling my hands into fists.

"Dammit. Seb, wrap around it!"

Yet even as I spoke, another string shot hit its target and Seb struggled to rush forward, choosing instead to leer at the bug while squirming in the strands on silk. The caterpie took the opportunity to slam into his side and pushed him on his back.

Coming closer was the caterpie's undoing. Seb, not bothered by his change of position, took less than a second to right himself and bit down on his opponent's exposed stomach. It shrieked in pain and thrashed against him, but with the snake starting to wrap, the movements only served to tear open its flesh. Just as I had expected, the caterpie's organs were beginning to slide out along with trickles of pus and green goo. A horrible stench erupted from its bright red antenna, though Seb was too far into his bloodlust to be affected.

Its trainer screamed something at me. I couldn't make out his words over the sounds of the pokemon and my own blood rushing in my ears. The battle had ended almost right after it began. The trainer should had never attacked when I had already refused, this was his own fault, but I couldn't shake a feeling of guilt.

The kid himself ran over to tear his precious pokemon away from my vicious beast. I reacted as soon as he came within striking range; Seb, in the heat of battle, would be almost guaranteed to bite without realizing his actions. Not that he would care about injuring a human. I couldn't make it to them before he did exactly what I feared and the trainer fell back, clutching his arm.

I retracted Seb into his pokeball as I should had done a long time ago and examined the damage. Luckily the kid hadn't been hurt too badly, but I had no idea if Seb had managed to inject venom. He was too young and inexperienced to kill with venom alone and there were plenty of places to seek help within the city, at least. Though I doubted this would make the kid feel any better.

"What the hell, do you sic your freaks on everyone you meet!?" he shrieked. He crawled towards his caterpie and threw his body onto it, sobbing. Heat rushed through my body from how mortified I felt and I bit my lip. If his bug died, it would be my fault for not recalling Seb sooner. Hell, what if the trainer was allergic to the venom and lost his arm?

If Team Rocket found out that I had no control over my starter, I was screwed. They would kick me out for being weak and I'd be on the streets with no money and a single, disobedient pokemon. I'd have to return to my aunt and she'd lock me up for the rest of my life. Shit shit shit. I had to put on a better act of control until I had actual control.

"You should get to a pokecenter and have them check you for venom. I can help you carry your c-"

He interrupted me with a furious scream: "No! Just get away from me!"

"Look!" I snapped. "This is what happens when you attack someone who doesn't want to battle!"

"You didn't have to murder us," he snarled back. And he did have a point, but I wasn't going to back down. He fumbled through his pockets and threw at me a wad of cash. I had completely forgotten the unspoken rule that losers in battles paid the winners, but it hardly mattered now. And then he added, "You might as well join Team Rocket!"

This stunned me into a few moments of silence. Join Team Rocket? What the hell did that mean? "I'm already part of them," I offered. By the look on his face, this wasn't the right thing to say. Perhaps he was one of the bitter radicals I had been warned about. I looked down and saw that my knuckles had turned white from gripping my dog tags. I wasn't sure when I had grabbed them or how long I'd been squeezing so hard.

He appeared to be able to walk, gathering his pokemon in its ball and running past me towards the city, so I figured he'd be fine. Even if his caterpie lived I wouldn't be held responsible for what happened. Injuries were natural in battles. Seb didn't particularly need healing, but I decided to head back to my own pokecenter anyway. Maybe I could try to talk to him about what had happened, see if he really wanted bloodshed. I definitely couldn't handle the guilt and confusion running through my own mind.

I always hated walking through cities. People jostled and shouldered past me without any regard for my safety or the beast in my pocket. Speaking of which, I had to get a better place to keep his pokeball than in my pocket. At least there no one could bump it and accidentally unleash him.

Making it to the pokecenter in record time, I breathed a sigh of relief when I didn't see the trainer with the caterpie anywhere. He must had gone to a different pokecenter. Nor had I seen a sign of the green-eyed girl from a few days ago, but she was the last thing on my mind. I made my way to my room and released Seb onto the bed. He glared at me, obviously suspicious, but I offered him a small smile.

"Can we just talk?" I asked. His hisses weren't a yes, but I didn't care. I knew he could understand me.

"So about back there," I began. "I know that caterpie attacked you, but you know it belonged to someone, right?"

I didn't receive a reply. His eyes narrowed, then he turned his head away from me and stared at the window on the opposite wall. I wasn't surprised that he didn't even attempt to communicate with me, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to keep talking.

"The trainer loved that thing. And you saw how they flowed together. They were annoying, sure, but they clicked together. They were a perfect team and you might have just killed one of them. Don't you feel at least a little sorry?"

No reaction. I tried again: "How would you like it if you loved someone like that, and then they were torn away from you?"

Without warning he sprang, wrapping around my stomach and staring right into my face. His mouth opened as wide as it could go to display the full length of his incisors. It was close enough that I could see faintly colored drops of what might have been venom clinging to the tips. The sound that came from him was different than any he had made before. It was halfway between a snarl and a hiss, but more than that it had both the fury of something that wouldn't hesitate to murder me right then and there and wanted very badly to do so, and another undertone that I couldn't quite place. He tightened his grip as we stared into each other's eyes.

Big golden eyes with vertical black slits. I couldn't look for long. My stomach turned as I fought back waves of terror. One good bite to the jugular would be enough, if he didn't suffocate me first. He made that awful noise again before releasing me and nudging the button on his pokeball. It took him back inside as soon at he pressed it. I stood there in stunned silence even after he vanished.

His absolute disobedience aside... Shit, something had set him off. He had never actually made a move against me before that moment. And now, who was to say he wouldn't do it again? If he thought himself to be in charge I'd be in deep shit. My own pokemon wanted me dead. Not just my own pokemon – my starter.

What the fuck was his problem, anyway?

I was shaking, I noticed. I placed a hand against the wall to steady myself, though it didn't do much good. Fuck that scared me. I had to trade him in for something else, I couldn't deal with a starter that hated my very existence. If they wouldn't let me then I could sell him and use the money to buy something better. I reckoned I could get a common pokemon for cheap, then I could deal with that until I caught something more powerful. Something that didn't want me dead.

I needed something to take my mind off what had just happened. Preferably a strong drink, if the drinking age in Kanto was as nonexistent as in Unova. I released my death grip on my dog tags, once again oblivious that I had even been holding them. Conner Walker, the first line read. If I kept messing with it, the inscription would fade away and become indecipherable.

I debated leaving Seb's pokeball behind, but eventually headed downstairs with it in my pocket. To my surprise, a familiar face waited for me in the pokecenter's lobby. Curtis – or Brutus, I doubted he'd agree to me using his real name – stood with an expectant look on his face. And he stared right at me.

There was no one else around who he might had seen. I questioned why he showed interest in me; I knew nothing of training and definitely wasn't someone that Team Rocket would have special interest in. It was even less likely to be a romantic matter, considering that he looked several years older than me and could easily pick up any girl with his messy chestnut hair and perfect complexion.

Hopefully he waited for me because they had accidentally given me a defective pokemon and owed me a replacement.

"Hey," he greeted. I kept quiet for once. Something about him stopped me from doing anything rash. He intimidated me well enough, but that had never stopped me from being an idiot before. Something else seemed off about him.

Ignoring my silence, he beckoned me forwards and said, "C'mon, we've got something to talk about."

Replacement pokemon, please be a replacement pokemon...

He led me into the pokecenter's seated area and motioned for me to sit. I obeyed, still not saying a word. Maybe they had figured out how useless of a trainer I was and were going to kick me out.

"Heard you got an ekans. How's it working out?"

"Fine," I lied. "He's a killer."

The force of his laughter surprised me, and it was strangely contagious. I couldn't stop a small smile from touching my lips.

"Good, good," he said, then leaned forward. "So I got you that job."

I blinked. A job, right. He'd spoken about that before, but I hadn't expected one so soon. "Cool."

"You're lucky I got you a place in it. It's partially training for some new guys like youself, but unlike you they're mostly a bunch of talentless blokes who got in because of money."

In other words, a bunch of rich jerks who always got what they wanted. I assumed it was an honor or whatever to get a place among them, but it didn't quite add up. I didn't have money or connections. Hell, I didn't even show promise as a trainer.

Fixing him with a hard stare, I voiced my concerns. "That's wonderful and all, but why me? I'm sure there are plenty of other trainers doing way better than I am. And if you give me some 'chosen one' bullshit I'm going to hit you. Hard."

"What, you made a deal with Arceus? Chosen one?" he snorted.

I stammered a reply, but he laughed and told me not to worry about it. "Didn't realize you were unaware," he explained.

"Unaware of what?"

"Why do you think you got in?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow. I shrugged an answer. It hadn't ever occurred to me that admittance into Team Rocket could be a significant thing.

"We used to take in all kinds of trainers who were poor or didn't have a chance of success on their own," he began. "But ever since we became the government, we've had to be more selective. Most people need to pass tests and start building themselves up before we'll consider them, although we'll still throw them a starter. But we make exceptions. You do know that you were one of the top students in Unova's best academy, right?"

Yeah, that. I tried to forget those years of my life as best I could. Vigorous didn't even begin to describe the education, and the teachers were allowed to take physical discipline against the students. Not to mention the no pokemon rule.

Plus, with the belief that less distractions equaled more learning, we weren't given holidays or breaks away from school. I wouldn't see my parents for seven years after I first entered the academy, and we next met at their funeral.

Great school indeed.

I argued, "But I have zero training experience. I've never even owned a pokemon."

"So?" He tapped his fingers against the table, obviously thinking about something. It was another minute before he continued: "Anyone can train a pokemon, even if not everyone is good at it. But as easy as it is to teach a trainer, we can't teach someone to be smart. Intelligence is a rare commodity in our usual recruits."

"Basically, you guys are giving me special treatment because I'm good at differential equations?"

"Something like that," he chuckled. "We rarely get someone who's educated and wanted to battle for us."

I smirked. "So when do I get promoted?"

"Not so fast. The catch is that if you do badly here, you'll regret it. We're going to use this as a test to judge your training potential."

"...oh." There was always a catch. And considering how well Seb listened to me, I had my doubts about passing this "test". I hadn't had lessons in pokemon training since elementary school, I was useless in real battles.

And I was fucked.

Seeing the despairing look on my face, he said, "It won't be that bad. Doesn't matter how shitty you think you are, you'll look amazing surrounded by some of those idiots. I've seen them in action and let me tell you, they're the most useless-"

"Thanks," I cut in. "But that's not helping. I only have one pokemon."

"Better one than a full team you can't control."

Ha. Haha. If only he knew.

"You in or not?" he asked. "This'll be good a good experience."

"Couldn't I do something when I've trained a little more?"

"I might not find you anything as nice."

I threw my hands up. "Fine, I'll do it! Doesn't sound like I have a choice anyway."

If I had known what would happen, I would had run away screaming until they locked me in a padded cell.