Author's Note: I would like to thank everyone for their submissions and their reviews! Your support for and your belief in this adventure help drive it forward. This is beginning to look very promising, and I hope you all continue to enjoy the journey! On a side note, Bulbasaur has been claimed! Charmander and Fennekin are still in need of trainers, so let's give them some love!
Update: I recently realized that the officers of Kalos don't use growlithes, as they aren't native to that region. So in the previous chapter where they were mentioned (Prologue Pt. 3) I replaced the growlithes with manectrics. It's possible that I've missed other things of the sort, so if you ever notice anything that seems out of place with the Pokémon world feel free to let me know!
Shout-Outs: Again, thank you all for your kind reviews! It pleases me to see so many of you enjoying my work! To show this appreciation, I will devote these 'shout-out' sections to try and individually thank each and every one of you.
To Reaper of Books: A child's job indeed, mwahaha!
To Flame Sergeant Fisher: Thank you so much for your compliments! As the story progresses, I hope the chapters will continue to grow longer, and I eagerly await your OC submission!
To StallsalotHB: Thank you for returning again and again. I appreciate your enthusiasm for this story!
To IfTimeWasStill: Your kind words move me, and inspire me to continually better my story. And I look forward to introducing your OC!
To LadyGlitchy: I love your enthusiasm, and I hope future updates continue to excite and enthrall you! I also eagerly await your OC's introduction into the story!
Chapter One: Back Alley Blues
"Ghost, use Ember!"
Zayn looked on, eyes narrowed in concentration as a stream of fire blasted from his houndour's mouth, shooting across the ground like a rocket. The sparse crowd standing along the four brick walls that enclosed the alleyway in a dead end cheered and placed their bets as the opposing blue-and-white furred otter held up a pale yellow seashell, deflecting the attack and sending jets of flame ricocheting off the walls. The crowd hollered in surprise and ducked down, then continued to root on the competitors and call out more wagers.
"Nice job, Oshawott!" the boy on the other side shouted, his voice cracking in juvenile excitement. He was a new trainer on vacation from Unova, no less than a year Zayn's junior. His tailored vest, polished loafers and matching slacks showcased his family's wealth—and the boy's arrogance.
He turned his gaze to Zayn and sneered. "Stupid, don't you know that fire-type moves are weak against water?"
Zayn clenched his jaw shut to keep himself from snapping back. This was a pokémon battle—his twentieth in fact, and if all went well then it would be his thirteenth victory. An impressive record for a young, unlicensed trainer; he doubted that this spoiled kid had won even half that many matches. Still, Zayn would not let the youngster goad him into his verbal warfare. He would let Ghost do all the talking.
"Water Gun!"
"Counter it with Ember!"
Ghost shot another blast of fire at the otter just as a stream of water came gushing in his direction. The two attacks clashed halfway down the battlefield, the balance of power tipping on both sides until they erupted into a steaming haze, shrouding the alleyway and blocking the evening sun from view. The onlookers coughed and grumbled amongst themselves, squinting through the smoky veil as the cloud slowly thinned out.
Ghost was panting heavily, his body tiring from the brawl. Hang in there, buddy, Zayn thought as he waved a trail of lingering smoke from his eyes. The oshawott was not faring any better as it wobbled from side to side, the yellow scalchop hanging loosely in its grasp.
"You just don't learn, do you?" the kid smirked, his cocky tone drawing Zayn's attention back to him. "Oshawott, hit him with Tail Whip!"
The little otter shook off its fatigue and scurried first left, then right, zigzagging awkwardly on its stubby blue flippers as it charged at Ghost. The houndour stood in place, his ears erect and his eyes following the oshawott's every move as it drew nearer, awaiting his next command with the practiced patience of a mightyena studying its prey.
Not yet, Zayn silently urged. The oshawott pattered closer, picking up speed as it gained confidence. Ghost twitched an ear nervously and glanced back at his trainer, his courage wavering. Just a little more!
Once the oshawott was close enough it leaped into the air and spun around, its rudder-like tail aimed for Ghost's head. "Ghost!" Zayn called, and he could not keep the grin from spreading across his lips as he commanded the houndour to execute the trick he had taught him less than a month ago. "Catch!"
Without hesitation, Ghost jumped up on his hind legs and opened his jowls, wrapping jagged fangs around the otter's tail and clamping down hard as he jerked it out of the air. The crowd fell silent as the oshawott crashed to the ground and wailed in pain, flailing its arms as it tried to squirm free, but Ghost held it firmly at bay.
The taste of victory ripe on his tongue, Zayn turned his attention to his opponent. He could not deny that the look on the boy's face as his pokémon flopped helplessly like a fish out of water was satisfying, and he could not resist taking the opportunity to gloat. "Aw, don't look so surprised!" he stated, giving his bewildered opponent a triumphant wink. "Here, we'll give him back to you!"
Ghost spun in a full circle, emitting a sharp growl as he released the otter. The oshawott flew up into the air, screeching in terror as gravity brought it plummeting back to the ground.
"Oshawott, return!" The boy withdrew a pokéball from his belt and recalled his pokémon as it fell, and Zayn closed his eyes in silent thanks. He had wanted to scare the snooty little brat, after all, not kill his pokémon; though, maybe he had taken the showboating a little too far with that last act.
"Hey," Zayn called out to the kid, feeling a small pang of guilt as the boy stared at the pokéball in his hand, disbelief misting over his eyes. "No hard feelings?"
The kid glanced up at the sound of Zayn's voice and clipped the pokéball back to his belt, that arrogant smirk returning to his lips. "Next time we face, Harker, I'll have an even stronger pokémon. Your dog will beg for mercy!" Laughing, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and sauntered towards the exit.
The crowd began to disperse shortly after, giving Zayn their congratulations as they passed. Running a hand through his hair, Zayn walked to the middle of the makeshift arena and crouched down next to Ghost.
"Well," he said, scratching the houndour behind an ear. Ghost pressed his wet nose into Zayn's outstretched hand, licking his fingers affectionately. "We did it."
They had just sealed their thirteenth victory.
It had been nearly five years since the Lumiose Station incident, five years since his mother had...Well, it had just been a long five years. Having nowhere to go and no one to go to, Officer Jenny had taken him in. She was a good woman with a big heart and an open mind, but she would never be his mother, and on his bad days Zayn would see fit to remind her of that.
A year after the train station, once the nightmares had stopped completely, he had gotten into his very first pokémon battle with some wild-eyed kid from school. It had been brash and reckless, a fight to defend his own honor against the kid's bullying, and the match was lost. Ever since that day, Zayn and Ghost had trained in the back alleys of Lumiose City—much to Officer Jenny's chagrin—brawling in unofficial matches against residents and tourists alike, growing together in both strength and trust.
"It was my fault, you know," he admitted to the pup once he felt that they were alone. Ghost raised his ears, as if to show that he was listening. "Mom wanted to take a cruise ship that day, but I begged her to take the train. She wanted to leave for Hoenn and I wanted to go to the beach. I had never been to the beach before, and she—she said OK..."
Tears stung at his eyes as he ran a hand down the length of Ghost's spine, tracing the faint scar that slashed across his back and curled up along the side of his neck. "This was my fault, too. I almost left you behind."
Ghost nipped at Zayn's hand and growled, a low rumble that held no threat in its tone.
"Yes it is, don't try and say that it's not. I sent you up against a bisharp when you barely even knew how to tackle."
The houndour snorted, displeased with his trainer's statement. Zayn rolled his eyes and rubbed his pokémon's head. "You know it's true, buddy."
He had almost lost Ghost that day, too. Those six hours he had spent pacing the Pokémon Center, his mind still reeling from the day's events as he nervously awaited Nurse Joy and her final diagnosis while Officer Jenny tried in vain to calm him down, had made him realize that his houndour was all that was left for him. He wanted Ghost to be strong, he needed for him to be strong! The weak would always fall at the hands of the strong; Zayn did not want to be weak ever again. He could not bear the thought of losing someone else...
Footsteps echoed on the cobblestones behind him, snapping him back to reality. Zayn quickly wiped his eyes and turned around, silencing Ghost when a cautionary grumble rose up in his throat.
A tall, wiry boy no older than seventeen stood at the entrance to the alley. His lithe frame was complemented by a tailored yellow-and-black blazer and dark vintage jeans, and his malachite green eyes shone bright against his olive-toned skin. But the stranger was not who Ghost was glaring at.
Standing on all fours next to the boy, its shaggy mane even with his chest, was a large pokémon that Zayn had never seen before. It had coarse black fur covering most of its body and blue skin the color of ice where fur was sparse. Its eyes were yellow slits amidst red scleras and its thin black tail was capped with a yellow four-pointed star. On the backs of its forelegs were three golden half-bands, and attached to its wrists were shackles in the shape of magnets. It had a majestic air about it, and regarded the houndour with a fervent snarl.
"That was some impressive battling back there," the boy grinned, drawing Zayn's attention back to him as he brushed a lock of black hair out of his eyes. His gaze lingered on Zayn for an unnerving while before finally resting on Ghost. "Your houndour is remarkably tame for a dark-type. Did you name him?"
Zayn nodded, combing a hand through his unkempt brown curls. "His name's Ghost."
"Ghost," the boy repeated, and there was a gleam in his eye that sent a chill crawling up Zayn's spine. "What an unusual name for a houndour." He then turned his gaze back to Zayn and smirked, resting a hand on the pokémon next to him. "This is Slant, my luxray." The pokémon purred and arched its back at the boy's touch, its narrowed eyes never leaving Ghost. "And I'm Klaüs. Klaüs Sen."
"What an unusual name," Zayn started, placing a hand on Ghost's back as another growl rattled in his chest. "For a boy."
Klaüs chuckled, an overly exuberant sound that seemed more forced than natural. "I had an unusual upbringing."
"Zayn Darius Harker!"
Ghost's ears perked up at the familiar voice, his tensed body relaxing as his stubby tail began to wag in excitement. Zayn's gaze searched past Klaüs and his Luxray, and an unexpected sense of relief washed over him.
Officer Jenny stood a few paces behind the stranger, dressed fully in the teal uniform of the Kalos Police Department. Her green hair was neatly tucked beneath the officer's cap, and the glint in her amber eyes held a subtle flare that Zayn recognized as disappointment.
Aware that they were no longer alone, Klaüs nodded his head in a short bow. "I look forward to us meeting again, Harker, and seeing what you and Ghost are capable of." His luxray, Slant, continued to regard Ghost with the same cold, hard glare that its owner held for Zayn, and there was a predatory eagerness in its eyes that almost drove Zayn to wrap his arms around the houndour and shield him from the dangers of the world for the rest of their lives.
Klaüs grinned, shooting Zayn a wink as he and Slant turned to leave. "See ya 'round, kid."
His heart froze in his chest as the image of a sandy-haired man in a train station popped into his head. The train he had boarded was starting to pull out of the station, but the man stood in the open doorway, his black suit tattered and bloodied. His eyes were orbs of bright blue fire burning in empty sockets, and his cheeks were pale and sunken in. The metallic smell of blood was heavy in Zayn's nose as the skeletal man grinned and pointed his pistol at him, red smoke drifting out of the barrel as he tightened a bony finger around the trigger. "See ya 'round, kid!"
Bang!
Zayn closed his eyes, willing the frightful apparition to dissipate as quickly as it had formed, but when he opened them a second later Klaüs and his luxray were gone.
Ghost barked and ran over to Officer Jenny, who bent down and stroked his chin. "Who's a good boy, Ghost? Who's a good boy!" Her smile was warm and comforting, but when her eyes met Zayn's it dissolved into a displeased frown. "You, not so much."
Zayn shoved his hands into his pants pockets, averting his gaze to the ground with a sigh. It was always the same thing whenever she would find him battling in the alleyways. Her lecture would come, regardless of what excuse he would use to justify his actions. He had learned early on that it was best to just stay quiet and let her say her piece.
"You know that street battles in the city are illegal, Zayn, especially if you aren't a licensed trainer!" Officer Jenny started, crossing her arms as she paced back and forth, her booted heels clicking softly on the cobblestones. "As an officer it's my duty to protect this city and her people, but I can't do that if you continually put yourself and others at risk with these battles!"
Zayn opened his mouth to say something, but thought better about it and instead remained silent. Officer Jenny did not seem to notice.
"I mean, what would've happened if someone had gotten hurt? Or if you had been caught by anyone else!" Jenny stopped pacing and turned to Zayn, the spark in her eyes simmering to a dull glow. Her shoulders sagged, as if they were weighed down by a heavy burden, and there were stress lines on her face where the skin should have been smooth. "Zayn," she started, placing a hand on his arm. "I know it hasn't been easy for you these past few years. Hell, it hasn't been easy on me either."
Zayn looked up, his brow creasing with intrigue; this wasn't a part of her usual lecture.
"I know you do this as a way to cope, and believe me, I get it." Jenny sighed as she removed her cap and scratched her head, placing a gloved hand on her hip. "But it's not safe on these streets, even with Ghost by your side." The houndour cocked his head to one side as he sat next to them, listening just as intently to Officer Jenny's speech.
"Zayn, you have to promise me—"
"ALL OFFICERS, WE HAVE A 459 IN PROGRESS ON ESTIVAL AVENUE! ALL OFFICERS, PLEASE RESPOND!"
Jenny cursed as she reached up and lifted the black mic off her shoulder. "Copy that, HQ. Officer Jenny nearby and en route." Looking back at Zayn, she pointed a finger at him. "This doesn't mean you're off the hook, mister!"
Zayn tried to suppress a grin as she ruffled his hair. "Of course not, officer!"
"We are continuing this discussion later," she affirmed, replacing the hat back on her head and embracing him in a tight hug. "Now go on home, both of you! I left some money on the counter for pizza in case you get hungry."
"Be careful out there, Jenny." Zayn watched her walk to the street until she disappeared from view, then he turned his gaze to Ghost. The houndour stared up at him, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he panted. "You hungry?"
Taking the sharp yap as a yes, Zayn led them out of the alley, hands in his pockets and a low tune whistling from his lips as they walked along the city streets. It was slowly growing darker as dusk approached, and Lumiose's nightlife was beginning to stir, but as they walked home Zayn could not shake the feeling that they were being watched.