Author's Corner.

Slybill: A few important notices before you dive in. This story is partly game-verse with sprinkles of anime-verse references and some of my own world mechanics, resulting in a rather wonky character pool and various age liberties (some people may be older, younger or vampires, meaning they'll stay the same as their normal game-selves). And from here on out, Coliot will be mostly referred to as Piff.

ACT I.

Route 202.

If there was one route Terry Lattner hated, it was this specific route he had been traversing. Yes, the creatures here were laughably weak but that didn't stop them from randomly springing out of nowhere to scare the young aide for the country's resident Pokémon Professor, Daniel Rowan, grandson of Professor Jacob Rowan (who had passed away over a year ago). Worse still, he was by no means a strong trainer. Hell, the only Pokémon he had on him was the wild Magikarp he had been sent to retrieve from Jubilife's Pokémon Center.

"The hell are you spacing out for, brat?!"

BAM.

Yes, Terry had another big reason for avoiding this particular route, home to thugs and bandits who regularly ambushed starting trainers and emptied the contents of their bag-packs, pockets and, in most occasions, their Pokéballs. Poor Terry had even heard that a Lass was raped months ago on this very route.

Luckily, he was a guy, had no particularly-valuable possessions and owned a wild Magikarp.

"Damn, all the brat's got is a stupid Magikarp!" the cueball of a leader snapped, pressing a foot against the floored teenager's chest. "Well what d'you have to say for wasting our time, kid?"

Terry wiped the blood streaming from his nose and remained rooted to the spot, unable to talk back to the intimidating biker. Mostly because of the dangerous-looking knife one of his mooks dangled before his eyes.

"Oi, da boss is talking to you, shithead!" a guy barked, booting his head. "Got something to say? Spit it out!"

"Yes sir!" he replied, utterly terrified. "I'm sorry for once again not having anything on me, sir!"

"Good. Then don't come back here again," the leader sneered, lifting his boot. "And we'll keep the Magikarp. It'll make a good stew anyway."

Now that was enough to bring up some semblance of rebellion in the brunette teen. "I-I'm sorry but I cannot let you do that, sir!"

"Oh?" The boot was back on his chest, threatening to break his ribs. "And what makes you think you can stop us? You're nothing but a brat!" He stamped hard on Terry's chest for emphasis and the boy nearly screamed himself hoarse as the man's spiked soles left pin-prick punctures on his chest, staining his new lab coat and inner vest with patches of blood.

"Let's teach this little shit a lesson, boys; no one messes with Boss G," the leader said with a cruel laugh as two of his men held Terry up by the arms and one raised the knife to his green eyes. "Bet there's some wacky Psychic out there who'd pay a pretty penny for green eyes since they're so hard to come by in Sinnoh. Don't worry, kid. Least you'll get your cut of the profit, 0% that is."

The boy screamed, struggled and kicked to no avail as they held him down to gouge out his eye.

Somebody, just kill me, he inwardly prayed, fearfully expecting the hellish pain that would normally ensue.

Instead, a fist collided with the knife-wielder's face so hard that the man's neck not only snapped, but his body was also hurled into the air and collided with the rest of his cronies.

"What the fuck!" Boss G gasped as the ones holding Terry had their heads smashed against the dirt in unison. From his teary line of vision, the startled teen could make out the shape of a boy with wild raven hair. He was much shorter than Terry but as he raised his head, the metaphorical flames in his purple eyes made him seem as big as a titan.

"H-holy shit!" one of the men cried as the newcomer straightened up and exhaled. "Boss, i-it's Cole!"

"Damn, I thought we lost him back in Jubilife!" Boss G stuttered, hopping onto his bike. "Whatever! We've got more guys now so do your thing and beat him to a pulp, boys!"

"Yeah! Let's get him!" they roared, all lunging towards him. Terry's eyes widened as they all drew knives and other dangerous weapons. This boy was dead, no matter how he looked at it! How in Arceus's name was he going to beat them with nothing but his bare fists?!

"You wanna fight?" Cole growled, pulling his headband lower and casting them a glance that made even Terry shrink back. Grinning toothily, Cole made the come-get-me gesture and dove right into the fray. "Bring it on, boneheads!"

To say the boy was a dragon would've been an understatement as he sent full grown men to hell and back. All Terry could see and hear was the sight of bloodied, unconscious bodies flying and pained screams everywhere. Even when they cut him, the newcomer just went madder with his attacks and in no time, Boss G was the only one left in the forest of unconscious thugs. The panting newcomer wiped the blood from his head and turned his mad eyes to the man, unnerving him with his animalistic gaze.

"F-fucking m-monster!" he cried, revving up the engine and making to zoom off. "I already said I'd pay you your money!"

The tires rolled and Terry was sure that would've been the last of Boss G. However, the man was going nowhere as, to their amazement, Cole had grabbed the back of the motorcycle and was effectively holding it in place with a strength Terry had only seen in Machamp.

Cole dragged the roaring bike back, dug his foot into the ground for traction and took in a deep breath. "WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING, PUNK?!"

A second later, G and his bike were airborne as Cole had literally flung his capture into the air. The leader fell with a crash and felt the force of a shoe kiss his chest repeatedly.

"Bastard!" Cole roared with each stamp. "You promised!" BAM "To pay me!" BAM "My money!" BAM! "LAST WEEK!"

The last stomp had G spewing blood and Terry almost felt compelled to stop Cole before he killed the man. Luckily, the boy ceased his ruthless attack and spat some blood before wiping his chin and taking out the wallet sticking out of the thug's leather jacket. Counting the exact amount of money and 3000 more, he carelessly tossed the wallet onto G's face and grinned.

"Pleasure doing business with ya," he sneered and sharply turned to the slowly-retreating boy behind him. "Hey!"

"Don't hurt me, please!" Terry screamed, shielding his face as Cole began to draw closer. "I'm sorry! Please forgive me! I had nothing to do with these guys I swear!" He clammed up as the ravenette took his arm, pulled him to his feet and handed him the 3000 extra pokédollars. "...Eh?"

"This is yours, right?" Cole asked, tapping the money. "You look like a starter trainer and they usually have 3000 on 'em before these guys take their money."

For a smart kid, Terry had some difficulty comprehending the situation. It wasn't until four seconds later that he realised what the boy had been implying and shook his head.

"I'm sorry but it's not mine. I'm just an aide, not a trainer and I didn't bring any money with me..."

"Oh?" Cole tilted his head before shrugging. "Whatever. Keep it. You'll probably need it for your wounds."

"W-wait," Terry said as he started off. "You...saved me?"

"Duh!" Cole deadpanned. "I came for my money, of course, but helping you out was first thing on my list. Punks like these guys should rot somewhere for the rest of their lives but I guess beating them into comas is good once in a while too."

"O-oh...Magikarp!" Terry cried, scurrying over to the dropped Pokéball and releasing the pokemon within. Sighing in relief as the flopping Magikarp appeared unharmed, he petted its scaly head and stiffened as he caught Cole staring at it.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"I told you, I'm not a trainer," Terry stuttered defensively as he tightened his grip on the pokemon. "A-and it's not like I own this guy o-or anything! I mean, come on, it's a Magikarp for crying out loud-"

"Cool! A Magikarp!" Cole cried, all sparkly-eyed as he awed at the silly-looking fish in the brunette's arms. "And it's soooo pretty..."

Terry sweatdropped. "Okay..."

"Did you know that Magikarp used to leap over waterfalls using just Splash?" Cole asked, eyes virtually aglow with admiration. "Back then, they were sooooo powerful! And then when they evolve, Arceus, Gyarados have got to be the most amazing water-types out there but Magikarp will always be my number one Pokémon ever! When I go on my journey, I'm gonna catch a Magikarp one day and together, we shall conquer Sinnoh and then, the world!"

Even the Magikarp stopped its floundering to stare at the boy who, by now, was giving off sparkles at the undoubtedly impossible thought. Now that he looked at Cole closely, Terry guessed that his saviour was no more than 11 and even wondered how exactly he came in contact with these thugs in the first place. More importantly, how could Cole move with those injuries? There were gashes on his arms, legs, sides and even his chest yet here he stood chattering on about Magikarp and their successful contribution to the circle of life.

"Oh hell, look at the time!" Cole exclaimed mid-rant and held out a hand. "From that fancy lab-coat, you're Professor Rowan's assistant, right? The exit's that way. If you want, I can take you there-"

Terry shook his head. "I'm alright. Besides, you should get your wounds checked!"

"Oh, this?" Cole gave the blood on his arm a lick and smirked. "It's nothing. They'll close soon enough."

"No they won't!" Terry cut in, taking his arm. "We need to rush you to a hospital pronto!"

Surprised, the boy let himself get dragged out of the forest and soon enough they were on the hill overlooking the beach town of Sandgem.

"Thanks for helping me by the way," Terry added and smiled gratefully. "Y-you...look like a scary person but I get a feeling that you're a good guy. My name's Terry and if you want, I can get the Professor to give you a Pokémon."

"Really?!"

The brunette nodded. "But till then, it's the hospital for you, Cole."

"I said I'm okay," the ravenette sighed and flashed a grin once more. "And my real name's Piff!"

Terry arched a brow and glanced at him. "Huh?"

"Coliot Piff Z. Rosewood!" his saviour declared, tugging on his blue head band. "Remember that, Terry! Because I'm gonna be the greatest Water-type trainer ever!"

Sandgem General Hospital.

"Greatest Water-type trainer, my ass!"

Piff hissed as a fist boxed the top of his head. "What the hell, Mom?!"

"What did I say about fighting, Piff?!" the orange-haired woman roared, executing a rather well-placed headlock on his bandaged head. With fire in her dark-crimson eyes, Zoey Rosewood tightened her grip and ignored the pleas from the sweatdropping nurse and the onlooking Terry. "Last time I heard, dead little boys don't become trainers, dammit!"

"Shut up! I'm not a kid anymore, dammit! And your mannish muscles are choking me!"

Sighing, Zoey let go and crossed her arms as Piff rubbed his sore neck. "1: I'm glad you admire my lean physique but I am by no means muscular. 2: Even I worry too, kid."

Like a scolded child, the ravenette huffed and turned his nose up. "Sorry. But you always said it's good to help the weak and pathetic."

Tears rolled down a smiling Terry's face.

"That doesn't mean you go about actively risking your own neck to save the helpless and completely-incapable-of-saving-themselves," Zoey replied. "Oh! No offence, Peter!"

"It's Terry," the lamenting boy corrected as more tears streamed down in comical waterfalls.

Mother and child fell silent for a time before a small grin slowly stretched across Zoey's face. "But you beat 'em, right?"

"To hell and back," Piff replied and blushed a bit as she ruffled his hair.

"Don't do that again, okay? Even if I'm not your blood mother, I'd still get pretty anxious if I heard you landed in a hospital."

"Okay," he replied. Satisfied, she turned to Terry and offered a hand.

"Thanks for helping Piff out. He didn't scare you or anything, did he?"

"Err, no. Actually, I'm grateful to him," Terry replied, shaking her hand nervously. "It's just so weird...to think he's the child of Sinnoh's best coordinator."

"A real lady's man, aren't ya?" she laughed, earning a stutter from him. "Don't worry. I'm as normal as normal can be, right, Piff?"

"Yeah, when Mamoswine fly-"

Zoey raised a flaming fist. "Pardon?"

"I mean, of course you are, Mom!" he replied, fearful of her small but deadly fists.

Nodding, she turned and headed off towards the door. "I'll be back late tonight, Piff. But I've got something to tell you when you get home, 'kay?"

"Yup! I'll wait for you, Mom!" Piff declared, earning a warm smile from Zoey as she stopped at the door.

Mom, huh? Her fingers withdrew from the knob as she gave him a parting glance. "And get those IV's outta your system, boy! You've still got my parcels to deliver!"

With that, she kicked the door down and departed, leaving a stunned nurse and a jaw-hanging Terry in her wake. Laughing, Piff ripped out the IV needles and sat up, to the nurse's horror.

"You shouldn't be moving, Piff!" she cautioned in concern, making to force him back into lying position. She stopped however as he held up a hand and pulled on his jacket.

"I told you, I'm fine. Look." He raised an arm and eyes widened as they saw a neat scar where his injury lay. The same went for most of his shallower cuts and the deeper wounds had nearly scabbed over completely. All he had further needed was a couple of band-aids and in no time, he and the still shell-shocked Terry were standing at the entrance to the hospital.

"I'll be going then!" Piff chirped. "And thanks for the offer on helping me get a Pokémon. I'm not sure Mom'll approve but I'm sure I can get her to say yes...eventually."

The teen could only nod, dazed. He yelped as Piff patted his back. "Um...thanks for helping me again."

"I told you, don't worry about it! Later, Terry!"

And then he was gone. Terry blinked twice then three more times before looking at the Pokéball in his hands. "Did...did I just make a friend, Magikarp?"

No response, as expected. However, he felt the compelling urge to grin as he recalled the craziness of the entire day. Now he knew that the world was much stranger than he had thought it to be but never in his life had he expected to run into a Magikarp-obsessed superhuman boy and his top-coordinator foster mother. And Arceus, were they crazy!

"I...guess I'd better get you to the Lab now," he murmured, rubbing the nape of his neck. "Professor Rowan's probably gonna have a fit when he sees me. I'll be looking forward to that day, Piff. When you receive your starter, that is."

Jubilife City.

Zoey strolled into the kitchen and found Piff busily making dinner with the help of her Gallade. "What're we having this time, chef?"

"Lasagne!" he replied, taking out a baking tray. "The Tamato-laced kind since you like spicy food."

The woman cocked a brow. "Oh? And what's the occasion?"

"Well, now that you asked~" He spun around with a creepy-rendition of the puppy-dog eyes. "I'm just sooooo happy to have an awesome mother like you. One that will let her hard-working and well-behaved son go on a Pokémon journey-"

"Again with the journey-routine," she sighed, rubbing her forehead. "C'mon, Piff. I told you you're not ready yet."

His smile dropped. "No fair! Everyone else is going at ten and I'm eleven! Why won't you let me go on a training journey?!"

Zoey pouted. "Because I'll miss my cute, little boy."

"Be serious, Mom!"

"Okay then. How many ten and eleven year olds have been turning up missing or dead in the past few years? Oh I forgot, you don't read newspapers," she replied picking up a magazine and flipping to its Pokémon-fashion pages. "You've gotta grow up a bit. Get ready to challenge the world with a more mature mindset, you know?"

"So I'll go when I'm 40? No thanks!" he snapped, slamming a hand on the kitchen counter and earning a shifty glance from Gallade. A rightly justified glance because his display of annoyance just left a sizeable crack in the marble counter. "C'mon, mom! I can take care of myself! I'm strong and you know it. Wait, is this because I talked with those bad guys again? I told you they-"

"Owed you. I'm well aware of that one time you mindlessly gave money to loitering and clearly-suspicious men twice your age, thinking they'd pay you back. Rest assured, I'll get you for that later, more so that you endangered yourself when you headed off to a pokemon-infested route to find them." She laid the magazine down with a stern expression on her face. "Piff, I know how strong you are. And that's what scares me."

Piff froze and the ladle fell from his fingers. "S...scared? Why?"

The woman looked back at her magazine though Gallade knew that her mind was far off from it. "As much as it pains me to say this, you're dangerous, Coliot. You know how strong you are. What if you suddenly lost it and raged all over the place? I know how frustrating battles and journeys can be especially when you find yourself on a losing streak. I've seen kids throw temper tantrums right in the contest hall during Grand Festivals and I know enough gym leaders who've commented on one or two brats attacking them just because they defended their badges. Sportsmanship aside, you'll need to tame that anger and strength in your blood, kid. I'll only consent to letting you go if you can prove to me how much self-control you're willing to muster. I won't let my son accidentally kill someone."

The ravenette's clenched fist loosened. "But...I..."

"Piff," she stated, folding up the magazine and dumping it on the table. "Why d'you wanna go so early?"

"I wanna make a difference, dammit!" he cried, tears welling up in his eyes as he raised his head to face her. "In school, everyone treats me like some sort of beast! Even when I try to help, I just end up breaking things and making people hate me! No one thinks for one second that I'm good! No one likes me, Mom...Everyday, they're always staring at me. Watching for when I get mad and hurt somebody or do something stupid...and it's...suffocating. I wanna show them that I'm capable of doing something good! I want them to see that No-good Piff can actually become someone others can look up to, someone they can trust...someone friendly and kind, not a monster. And the sooner I do it, the better."

Zoey lowered her gaze as he sniffled. Gallade knew she was doing her best not to waver, especially after seeing the look in his eyes. If there was one thing the Pokémon knew, it was that Zoey was weak to tears. The woman could go from a complete tomboy to an uncertain ninny within seconds of viewing any waterworks and the fact that she hadn't done anything yet amazed him.

"And...I don't know why but..." Piff grabbed his chest and squeezed a bit. "Sometimes, my heart begins to hurt whenever I try to think back to the days before I met you. I wanna remember everything. There's another reason I wanted to become a trainer and I'm sure it's at the tip of my tongue each time I try to remember who my real mom and dad were or if I had brothers and sisters. I want to know who I really am and put this pain in my chest to sleep for good. Only then...can I truly fit into this life."

Arms wrapped around him and drew him into an embrace.

"You really know how to hit where it hurts, you know that?" Zoey half-whispered jokingly. "I can tell how unhappy you've been, kid. I know how much you want to be free and that's why I made this decision. In the long-run, it'll be for your own good, trust me on that. And eventually, I know you'll find out who you truly are. But." The woman crouched to his level and used her hands to wipe the tears from his cheeks. "If there's one thing I know, it's that you're neither a beast nor no good. You're Coliot P. Z. Rosewood, a wonderful little boy whose heart is always in the right place. And I'm always proud to have you as my son. Always."

Slowly, she palmed the purple contacts off his eyes and stared into his lustrous blood-red eyes. "You'll make a great person someday, Piff. And even if the world hates you, know that I've got your back. I just need you to grow up a bit. That's what I wanted to tell you earlier. So till then, be patient, okay?"

Slowly, he nodded and returned the embrace, burying his puffy eyes into her wine-coloured vest. Eventually, Gallade let out a cough and Piff gasped, tearing himself off his foster mother and rushing to the oven. "Whoa, good call, Gallade! This almost got burnt!"

Eventually, dinner was served and the trio gladly tucked in, happy that the day ended on a good note (and the food tasted so darn good).

Later that night as Piff snoozed in his room, Zoey quietly walked in and watched him sleep.

Dawn...he's suffering, you know? she inwardly remarked and stroked the deep black bangs from his face.

Mom, I hurt someone today...

Mom, my chest hurts...

I can't sleep, Mom...Something's watching me again...

What am I, Mom? Am I really a devil?

I just don't fit in anywhere, Mom...

Mom?

Are you scared of me too, mom?

"2 years," Zoey whispered to herself. "Just give me two more years and I swear you'll be on your way, Coliot. That's what I was really gonna tell you. I love you...son."

2 years later...

Rowan Labs, Sandgem Town.

"I can't believe it's been two years," Terry sighed, dropping the paperwork on his boss's desk. "And yet it still feels nice sending trainers off with new Pokémon."

"It's the bonus that comes with the job," the young professor, Daniel Rowan, explained, filing his papers and leaning back into his chair. "That's what grandfather said, anyway. I guess he was right; seeing new generations come and go spurs us on to keep searching for new heights with our Pokémon partners. The trainers essentially help with that too."

Wiping the jet black hair from his face, he turned to the metallic tray where two red and white spheres lay.

"Also, we're giving the opportunity to legally get rid of the...difficult starters on hand."

Terry sweatdropped. "Cynical as always, sir..."

"That damned Piplup gave me hell," Daniel sighed, selecting a Pokéball and raising it to his silvery-grey eyes. "I mean, she was grateful to grandfather for saving her when she washed up at the beach 5 years ago but the second I stepped in, she put up this rebellious attitude and gave me the cold shoulder on almost every occasion. Like a spoiled princess or something. Whoever picked her is in for a time, I presume."

"The girl seemed capable of handling her," Terry explained, thinking back to the 14 year old who had stepped in earlier that day. Nina Zoom, eh? She reminds me a bit of someone...

"And now we have this little guy," Daniel remarked as the ball in his hand rattled. "Violent, rude and extremely over-confident. Just where did we find this Chimchar, Terrence?"

"The rangers said they caught him actively burning down a forest on Route 210 where fighting types normally reside. He utterly resisted to rehabilitation and no preserves were safe so they dropped him off with me, sir," the teen replied. He could still remember the excruciating scratches and burns the monkey from hell gave him a year ago. "If memory serves, he was the only pokemon not to get picked last year."

"Hopefully, we'll find someone who's willing to save us- I mean- adopt this little one," the professor murmured cynically. "The only one I really like out of the set is Turtwig. She's a responsible little one with a good sense of morals, even if she did end up bullied by those two. Sort of like you, Terrence."

So effectively, we're both doomed to be wimps forever... Terry lamented, silently crying waterfalls again.

"Sir, someone is ready to collect a Pokémon," a female aide stated, popping her head into the room. "He passed the interview remarkably well and he's now waiting in the lobby."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed," the professor murmured under his breath and stood up. "Bring the pokemon, Terry."

"Yes, sir!"

...

Terry nearly dropped the tray in surprise. "P-Piff?!"

Standing ahead, the familiar ravenette turned and grinned. "Yo! It's been too long, Pete!"

"It's Terry!" the brunette cried. "A-and, yeah, it's been quite a while, hasn't it? You've grown too."

"Yeah, I'm almost your height!" Piff remarked, eyeing the pokeballs with glee. "Man, I can't believe Mom said yes! Sure it took two years but I'm here, just like I said I would!"

"I take it you two know each other?" Daniel asked, earning a wide-eyed expression from the newcomer.

"Whoa, you're the guy on TV! I'm your biggest fan, Professor!" he chattered excitedly. "Although you don't look so smart off-camera."

A vein bulged on the professor's head. "Glad to hear that." Hope you get the Chimchar, runt.

"He's the boy who helped me two years ago, sir," Terry explained. "Please don't mind his jumpiness. He may be loud but he's a good guy."

"Aww, thanks buddy!" Piff cooed, patting Terry on the back and almost knocking him over. "So about that Pokémon-"

"Yes, let's cut to the chase, shall we?" Daniel cut in and Terry came forward. "Within these balls are the partners who will follow you on your journey. You can only select one but I assure that any of these two will make it worth your while."

Buttons where clicked and in a shimmering flash of light, two shapes became visible on the shiny floor.

"Turtwig and Chimchar," the professor introduced, gesturing to both while precariously standing a good distance from the seemingly-contemplating Chimchar. "Choose anyone of your choice."

Piff blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. His head automatically snapped towards Terry. "Where's the Piplup?"

"Shoot!" Terry hissed and rubbed the back of his head. "Um...she already got picked by a trainer who came earlier."

The boy blinked again before his eyes gradually widened. "Huh?! But I wanted it!"

"W-well, we couldn't exactly reserve her for you so..." Terry trailed off as Piff's purple eyes narrowed.

"How am I supposed to become the world's greatest water-type trainer if I don't start with a Piplup?" His rhetorical tone had Daniel also narrowing his eyes.

"Young man," he spoke up. "You must understand that life doesn't always go exactly as planned. Even if you start with something other than a water-type, the chances of you catching one later on are higher anyway. It's not like picking something else signifies the end of the world. Now unless you wish to come back earlier next year, I suggest you pick one. Preferably now."

Terry half-expected Piff to punch him or at least retort. Instead, the boy simply narrowed his eyes and turned to the two pokemon again.

"Let's make a deal, then. The second I catch a water-type Pokémon, I'm returning the Pokémon I picked."

Daniel begged to differ. "Now look here, you can't just-"

His protest died the second Piff turned, sporting a rather intimidating gangster-face. Sure there was always the option of simply throwing him out but Piff's expression and Terry's story killed the thought before it even surfaced within the professor's head.

Two could play at that game however. Daniel was never the man to back down without a fight anyway.

"Fine."

The aides gasped.

"However." A sly grin came to his features. "You're taking the chimp."

Piff's jaw dropped. "But it's a fire-type! That's the complete opposite of a water Pokémon! At least let me take the Turtwig."

"What's the point when you're returning it anyway, right?" Daniel chuckled. "Take Chimchar. He suits your personality more. I can even stake my life that'll he'll grow on you."

Piff took one look at the Pokémon. The fire monkey bared his yellow teeth and hissed, scary enough to make the Turtwig back away.

"But...it looks like it has rabies..."

"I assure you that he is as healthy and spry as a new-born." The man cautiously gave the Pokémon's head a quick pat. Chimchar nearly bit his finger off. "See, he's just excited."

Piff folded his arms and thought about the idea. On one end, he'd at least have something to start with. On the other end, fire-types sucked against water-types and as such, catching the desired species would be hard.

"Piff, you're tough, remember? So what if you have a fire-type starter? Wouldn't it be much cooler if everyone heard you rustled up tough water-types with only a fire pokemon?" Terry offered hopefully.

"Hmm...that doesn't sound like a bad idea," Piff replied and smirked. "Deal! But The second I catch a tough water-type, this guy goes back to you."

Chimchar hissed as he picked him up and held him to his face.

"Hey there, monkey face. Let's get along, 'kay?"

Piff got a face full of hot spit a split-second later.

In ten minutes, papers were signed, pokéballs changed hands and the spluttering trainer was out the door faster than one could shout "Pokémon!".

"Have fun on your journey, Piff!" Terry called from the safety of the window. "Bye Chimchar! Take good care of your trainer."

"Good riddance- I mean- Enjoy yourselves, Piff, Chimchar!" Daniel bade, also waving a bit too enthusiastically. And kill each other to your hearts' content while you're at it.

The second Piff had disappeared from sight, the man spun to his aides and pulled out a bottle of champagne. "This calls for a celebration! Today, we have been liberated from those Pokémon's reign of terror!"

"Uhm, sir," Terry piped up. "How are you so sure Piplup and Chimchar won't be returned?"

"Professor's intuition," he replied dismissively and eyed the window. "It's innate but I can feel the likeness between trainers and Pokémon. They'll eventually stick together whether they like it or not. That's the true magic of Pokemon training. And if I'm wrong, I might as well revoke my PhD in Pokémon Psychology."

...

Piff stopped some distance from the town and opened the Pokéball, releasing the Chimchar within. Greeted with another hiss, he crouched to his level and held out a hand.

"Okay, from what I've seen, you're not exactly the friendly type. But it goes without saying that we'll be stuck for a while so I might as well introduce myself. I'm Coliot Rosewood but you can call me Piff."

The monkey snorted, earning a frown from the boy.

"Stupid name, huh?" he mumbled and smiled a little. "I think it's awesome though so get used to it. Also, you need a name as well."

Another hiss ensued.

"Oh come on! Work with me here, will ya?" Piff growled in exasperation. "I can't just call you Chimchar all the time. What if there's, like, four Chimchar in a field and I need to find you? You're getting a name, buddy. How about...um...Bob!"

Chimchar spat at him. Piff wiped his face and glared. "Okay, I think I'll call you Spitty. Really fitting, don't you think?"

The Pokémon glared right back and turned up his nose.

"Fine, fine. The least I can do is give you a cool name."

That perked up the Pokémon's ears and he turned expectantly as Piff racked his brain.

He was sorely disappointed when the boy cried "Blaze!" and Chimchar punched him in the nose before climbing atop his head and pounding him hard with his fists. A fight resulted and concerned passers-by stopped to see the 14 year old desperately trying to wrestle the rabid Chimchar off of his head via rolling, punching and obscenity-spewing. Whatever the case, the screeching Pokémon refused to let go and Piff was very sure he could smell something burning. To his horror, he realised that the murderous monkey was trying to set his hair alight with his tail flame and in no time, he was sprinting for the nearby pond while screaming like a mad man.

With a splash, both he and Chimchar landed in the grimy water and the latter screeched loudly, jumping out faster than a Meowth in a bathtub. Dripping wet, Chimchar frantically shook the water out of his eyes and fur and made ready to run off when a hand shot out of the water and grabbed his leg. Thoroughly soaked, a livid Piff arose from the pond and dangled Chimchar high above the ground with an angry grin on his features.

"You. Little. Bastard," he spat and, to Chimchar's shock, he raised his struggling catch over the pond. "If you hate the name 'Blaze' so much then how about Johnny Soggybottoms? Hilarious, right?"

The Pokémon paused and simply dangled there, staring wide-eyed at Piff who cocked a brow.

"What?"

The next moment had Piff nearly dropping his Pokémon in shock and fright.

For Chimchar opened his mouth and replied in a perfectly human tone, "Actually, it's Firebottoms. Johnny Firebottoms, bitch."