"We're finally here," I say as I walk into Cherrygrove City. Since it's about noon, people are walking about in town, eating lunch on the go before they head back to work. It's a lively town.
Carrying the unconscious Layla in my arms, I look around and see a group of kids around the age of twelve kicking a ball around on a field. Though I'm not too familiar with the way sports work, it looks like the kids are playing a variation of soccer except with two balls instead of one. I walk in closer to observe their game.
There are two teams, one with red shirts and the other with blue shirts. A boy and a girl on the blue team dribble the ball between their feet as they run towards the red team. A boy on the red team runs to steal the ball from the girl, only to be tackled by a boy defending the girl as she proceeds to score. The three other players not defending the goalposts on the red team try to steal the ball from both the boy and girl, only to be halted by the defenders on the blue team.
The boy and girl get within kicking distance of their respective goal posts. There are two, which are a little wider than half the size of a soccer goal post. The girl kicks to the right post and the boy, the left post. The defender of the right goalpost jumps to block the incoming ball, only for it to slip through his hands, the ball entering the goal. The boy kicks the ball to the left goalpost, aiming for the top left corner so it can recoil into the goal. The goalie sees this, but his reaction speed is too slow to stop the incoming ball.
The six players on the blue team cheer wildly, carrying both the boy and girl for their spectacular victory. The red team, on the other hand, groups up and walks away, their heads held low, the shame of defeat in their gait.
I think this sport is a combination between American football and soccer.
Since the game has finished, I walk up to the cheering blue team. One of them turns their head and sees me approaching them, as he turns back to his team to warn them of my arrival. Their cheering soon stops as they all turn to approach me, their hard gaze unwavering.
Am I considered a threat or something?
"Congratulations on that spectacular victory," I tell them as I get within twenty feet of them. The girl, who scored previously, steps forward and holds out her hand, warning me to stop my advancement. I slow my pace down, still walking a little forward.
"Stop right there," she commands me. I stop walking forward, coming within fifteen feet of the group. "What do you want?" she asks harshly.
The girl in front of me has an athletic form, her calves defined from the amount of running she does. She's taller than me, as most people are, standing at approximately five feet seven inches. Her black hair is shaped into a ponytail so as to not have her hair in her face while playing the game. Her eyes are squinted as the sun is glaring down at us with all its might.
I am a little taken aback by her hostility. "Since I just arrived in town, I was wondering if any one of you could kindly point me in the direction of the PokéCenter?" I ask kindly, trying to alleviate the hostile air between us.
"Uh huh, so you can abuse your Pokémon again after it's healed." I look at her, confused, not understanding what she means. "Don't try and play dumb, your hands are bloody from the blood of that Pikachu you're carrying."
I look down at my hands, finally noticing that they're stained from Layla's blood after the fight with the Growlithe. Where Layla was cut, blood is still covering her cheek.
Holy shit! This really makes me look like an abuser: blood on my hands, and on the victim.
I now realize that it's a misunderstanding. "No, no. This is a big misunderstanding. I was attacked on my way here by a wild Pokémon and she got injured. I was too caught up in the moment of healing her that I forgot about the blood." I desperately say, trying to make her understand that I'm not an abuser.
"And why should I believe you?" she mockingly asks, her tone of voice condescending. "That's an excuse all abusers would make up and you're no different."
"It's true," I say, pleading with her. "I just left New Bark Town yesterday and there's no way I'd let my dream to be a Pokémon trainer start with me abusing my Pokémon." My desperation for her to understand involves my raising my voice, stirring the unconscious Layla back to reality.
"Nate, what's wrong?" Layla asks me, lethargically since she just woke up. She turns her head and notices the standoff between me the girl. "Who's she?"
"Thank God you've just woken up," I say to her. "Tell them that I haven't abused you in any way whatsoever," I desperately tell her.
Her voice sounds confused. "Why would you abuse me?" she asks.
"Just tell them. They think I've abused you."
She slightly raises her head to look at the girl in front of us. "Nate hasn't abused me at all!" she exclaims at her, sinking back in my arms, dozing off to the dream realm. I can tell she still has a fear of strangers as her body was shaking in my arms as she spoke.
The girl standing before me is shocked. "Your Pokémon speaks?" she asks, all her former hostility now gone. Her team members behind her also look shocked when Layla spoke.
Is it really that uncommon for Pokémon to speak in this world? The way she asked was as if it was her first time hearing one speak before.
"Yeah, my Pokémon speaks," I casually answer her question. "Is there something wrong with that?" I ask her, unsure if it's really uncommon to hear a Pokémon speak.
Recovered from her shocked state of being, "There's nothing wrong with it, just quite rare for a trainer to let their Pokémon speak like humans do." She closes her eyes as she thinks for a second. "Okay, I've decided. I won't send the police on you; you've given me enough reason to prove you're innocent."
I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you," I say to her. Then, remembering what I came here for, I ask, "Now, do you mind showing me the way to the PokéCenter, please?"
She nods her head, "Team, do you mind cleaning up? I'm going to take him to the PokéCenter, okay?" Her teammates begin cleaning up the field, grabbing the balls and barrier cones that defined the playing field. "Follow me," she says as she comes up to me.
I begin to follow her, but I am confused. "Why the sudden change of heart?" I ask her. We exit the field, entering the main street upon which I had first entered into.
She turns around sharply, "Have you been living under a Snorlax your whole life? Everyone knows that when a trainer lets their Pokémon speak, they view them as equals, not inferior creatures."
So the games and anime were wrong in this regard. Pokémon are inferior to their human masters.
Baffled, I ask, "Do you mind elaborating that, please? I'm not from around here, and I personally haven't met any trainers so far." I don't want to start the conversation that I'm from a different world as it'd be too difficult to explain.
"Alright, since I'm kind, I'll tell you. We've got some time till we reach the PokéCenter," her voice is sounding reluctant as if it is a chore to help out.
My luck is going to run out someday. Holly didn't turn me into bird food and helped me on this journey. Now some girl isn't calling the cops on me and she's showing me the way to the PokéCenter.
We slow to a more casual walking pace. "Here, Pokémon are viewed as lesser beings compared to humans. Even though they have superior abilities compared to us, our intelligence allowed us to capture them and in turn having them become our pets, battle partners, and other things among those lines. You were taught at least this much in school right?" she asks me.
I resort to my typical response to forward the conversation in my favor. "Yeah, I remember something like this being taught in a lesson a few years back, but it has been a while," I lie to her so I don't expose my identity.
She nods her head up and down slightly, "So I'm guessing this is where you decided to dose off in class or something?" I reply with a positive answer so she can continue going. "Okay, so it's not like humans don't care for Pokémon at all. Trainers love their Pokémon very much, but to see them as equals, that's something few trainers imagine."
Okay, so it's not like humans are abusive to Pokémon, they just don't see them as equals. This is just like how people back on Earth treat livestock, they appreciate them, but would never give them the same rights as humans.
"Then there's the whole other side of the spectrum that deals with people exploiting Pokémon for their own wants. Using Pokémon to steal other Pokémon having them commit other heinous crimes. And then there's people who have Pokémon become sex slaves so they can make some profit off of it," she pauses before saying the next word in total detestation, "Disgusting."
She looks up, "And then there's you: the anomaly of all Pokémon trainers."
"Technically, I'm an anomaly to this entire world, but continue," is what I'd like to say, but I keep that to myself.
She rephrases what she just said. "Well, you aren't the only one who lets their Pokémon talk, but the few trainers I've met who let their Pokémon speak were all respectable people who'd never abuse their own Pokémon. They were also really powerful trainers, one defeating the sixteen gyms spanning the Kanto-Johto region. So when I heard your Pokémon speak, I just knew you weren't an abusive person at all."
Well if that presumption holds true, I'll become one hell of a trainer, but I'm not sure if that's even my goal right now. My goal is to find a way home, not battle gym leaders.
As if time just flew by during that whole conversation, she announces, "Here you go, the PokéCenter for all your Pokémon needs." Her way speaking was very commercial-like.
"Well, thank you very much," I tell her.
"You're welcome, and the nurse at the counter, she's my sister, so can you tell her I'll be back in a bit," she tells me, in which I simply nod as she runs back to where she left her teammates.
I now confront the large building in front of me. Many stories high and fairly large, this PokéCenter looked like a full-fledged hospital. The only thing that made it different from hospital was the large, red "P" above the entrance of the hospital and two stone statues of a Chansey with a nurse's cap on located on each side of the entrance.
So the games had a PokéCenter as a simple building with a Nurse Joy to heal your Pokémon. Now an all-out hospital-like building is before me. I wonder what lies inside, since many things are different from the games themselves.
Amazed, but not distracted by the differences presented, I enter the tinted glass doors. Inside, the room is fairly empty except for a woman sitting behind a counter reading a magazine. Seeing something move in her peripheral vision, she turns her attention away from her reading and sees me with a bloody Pikachu in my arms. Jumping out of her seat, she directs towards me in a slightly commanding voice, "Come over here, I need to see if your Pikachu is okay."
The nurse looks young, her youth radiating over her smooth skin. She has black hair like her sister's, but short, only going to the nape of her neck. Her facial features are similar to her sister's except her eyes aren't as squinted. The nurse uniform fits perfectly on her upper body, defining her thin figure.
Not going to defy her, I pick up the pace to a light jog even though she's only twenty feet away, allowing me to arrive to her in three seconds. The nurse sets down a small foam block for me to put Layla on. As I set Layla's unconscious body upon the foam block, it conforms to the edges of her body. The nurse immediately begins to examine Layla's body for any injuries after she wipes the dried blood off with a damp cloth.
I hope she isn't injured any more than the scar now on her cheek. Please, nurse, please say there's nothing wrong with her.
After five minutes of the nurse examining Layla, I stand uncomfortably as I wait for Layla's diagnosis. The nurse stops examining Layla and looks at me. "You're in luck. She's not injured, just exhausted, though I'd like to know where all this blood came from."
Relieved that Layla's okay, I ease up to explain to the nurse. "On our way here from New Bark Town, we encountered a wild Growlithe who attacked us. During the final seconds of the fight, Layla got scratched on her cheek which I healed immediately with a potion though she now has a battle scar." Something in my pocket keeps pressing against my skin, reminding me that I had caught the Growlithe. Pulling out the red and white Pokéball from my pocket, I give it to her to heal. "I caught the Growlithe, but it needs healing."
She takes the ball from my hand, but doesn't take it away to be healed. "I'm going to need to see your trainer card first."
Trainer card... trainer card... Ah! That electronic registration device told me to pick up my trainer card at a PokéCenter.
Bringing the backpack to the front, I open up the pocket and dig inside for the device. Feeling it at the bottom of the bag, I pull it out and offer it to her. "I don't have a trainer card, but this thing told me I'd receive one when I turn this in," I tell her as if turning this in is the right thing to do.
Her eyes bulge open as she sees the device in my hands, nearly dropping the Pokéball I just gave her. She takes the device carefully from my hands, turning it on. "Do you realize what you've just given me?" she asks, her voice more in awe than actual curiosity.
"Uh, no," I say to her, not knowing what she means. "What do you mean by that? Isn't that just a normal registration device?" Though I'm not from this world, my original thought process was that those electronic devices were given to all trainers to fill out.
She scoffs at my question. "Normal? If you consider V.I.P. exclusive access normal, then it's normal," she says sarcastically. She sees the confusion in my body language as I try to comprehend what she's saying. "Wait, you really don't know?"
I shake my head, "No, I don't understand what you've given me."
This is more of a shock to her than when she saw the device. "This is a V.I.P. trainer registration device which the most elite families pay for any of their family wanting to be a trainer. These cost a hefty hundred million bills each and how you came across this and not knowing what this is is beyond me."
A hundred million bills! Even though I don't know what the exchange rate is, this definitely is worth a lot.
Stuttering due to disbelief, "Uh...uh…What does it do?"
"Everything and anything," she says right away. "All services provided at any PokéCenter in the Johto region are free of charge. Services include medical reasons, sleeping accommodations, and the food court; everything in the PokéCenter." The intonation of her voice changing to a whisper, "I don't want to pry, but did you obtain this legally?"
Can this day get any better? V.I.P. access to everything, damn I'm lucky.
Thinking about her question for a bit, I answer, "The person who helped me out to start my Pokémon trainer journey gave this to me. Whether she obtained legally or not is beyond me."
"That sounds good to me," she says lazily. "Let me register you as a trainer and I'll go heal your Growlithe. All your Pikachu needs is some rest, so you can take it now."
"Thank you," I tell her as I pick up Layla from her foam bed. Looking around the lobby, I find a chair to sit on while I wait for her to return. Sitting down after finding a chair to the right of the counter, I allow Layla to sleep on my lap. Suddenly remembering something, I turn to the nurse, "Your sister, the athlete, says she'll be back in a bit."
She looks up from her computer as she's registering me. "Ah, Emily. She's always here after she finishes her practices. Okay, thanks for telling me," she says as she goes back to registering me.
I now take a good look of the PokéCenter lobby as I wasn't able to earlier. In perspective of the entrance, to the left is a waiting room is. To the right, where I'm located, are some chairs, an elevator, and a hallway leading to places unknown to me.
As I'm observing the lobby, Emily, the athlete, enters. "Hey, Sis, I'm back!" she exclaims. She then notices me sitting on a chair, "You're still here. Is your Pikachu alright?"
I look up to her. "Yeah, she's fine. All she needs is some rest." I look down at Layla as she is sleeping soundly upon my lap.
A chime is heard from the behind the counter as the nurse announces, "Nate, your trainer card is ready, and Growlithe is healed." She sees Emily. "Oh, Emily, how was your game today?"
Emily makes a huge grin, "We beat their asses big time. They didn't score at all and Brian and I scored the final points in a double goal."
I pick up Layla and head over to the counter, putting her back on the block of foam. I grab the Pokéball on the counter, but can't find the card anywhere. The nurse sees me looking around and holds out her hand for her sister to stop talking. "Wait up Emily, I need to help Nate out." Emily stops talking as the nurse turns to me, "I need to take your picture real quick, so if you don't mind, can you get behind this counter and stand in front of this wall," she says as she opens up the counter with a swinging door.
Standing where she wanted me to, she has in her hand a digital camera connected to the computer. Creating a small grin on my face, she takes a single photo of me. "Is it good?" I ask her as I have a tendency of having pictures of myself not look good.
"Yeah, it's good," she says as she presses a button on the keyboard. From the computer itself, a card is printed instantaneously which the nurse hands over to me. "Here's your card."
"Thank you," I say to her as she opens the swinging door to allow me to get to the lobby again. The card looks like a typical driver's license except with a symbol of a red and white Pokéball in the background. All my information is there: name, date of birth, height, weight, blood type, and card type.
Emily then quickly walks up to me. "Let me see your card." Handing it over to her, she looks over the card. "V.I.P.? Who are you?" she slowly raises her head from card, she now looking at me.
Though I'd normally make a smart-alecky remark, I don't, since I haven't gotten to know her to well. Instead I say, "I am Nate Mendoza, sixteen years old, and a newly-registered Pokémon trainer."
"No, not that," she utters. "How did you obtain V.I.P. access? I've never seen a V.I.P. card holder before, and I at least expected them to know a little something about Pokémon in the first place."
She holds out the card in which I take it and put in my pocket. "I was given this card not knowing what it does, and like I said before, I'm not from around here."
The nurse overhears our banter. "Nate, where are you from, then?" she asks me.
"Yeah, I'd like to know that too. Where in the world do you have to live to not know how the human-Pokémon relationship works?" her sister says to me.
I can't just let everyone know I'm not of this world. They'll think I'm crazy. Just got to be ambiguous with my answer and quickly ask the nurse for a room to sleep in.
"Just not from around here," I say rather quickly before proceeding with my question. "Nurse, are there any rooms available for me to rest? It's been a long day and my Pokémon need their rest too."
"Call me Jenna," she tells me as she holds out her hand. "Yes, we have rooms, but I need to swipe your card first." I take the card out from my pocket and offer it to her.
Emily notices I evaded the question. "Hold up. You didn't answer the question at all." She pulls in closer to me, almost grabbing my shoulder to turn me around to face her.
Jenna turns sharply to her sister. "Emily, let it be," she says sharply. Emily stops her hand before touching me.
"But sister-" she pleads as she absolutely must know what the personal life a complete stranger is.
Jenna again says sharply, enunciating each word, "Let. It. Be." Emily backs away from me, her head down. Jenna now turns back to me, "Sorry about that. We have rooms available. Would you like the normal accommodations or V.I.P. accommodations?"
I think about it before answering, "I'll take the V.I.P. room please. I have a V.I.P. card, do I not?"
"Yes, yes you do have one," she says as she plugs some data into the computer before handing me back my card. "Your room is on the top floor, room number four. Just slide your I.D. card into the door and it'll let you in." I take the card back. "Oh don't forget your Pokémon," she says as she puts the Pokéball by Layla.
"Thanks," I tell her. Grabbing the ball first, I put it in my pocket before picking up Layla. Turning around, I see Emily still sulking, but I don't take heed to her as I head to the elevator.
I press the arrow button that points up, and the elevator door opens immediately. Walking inside, I see the buttons designating each floor, the highest one being fifteen. I press it, and the door closes as familiar elevator music is playing through the speakers.
A minute passes for the elevator to reach the fifteenth floor and once the doors open, I quickly leave to find room four. Noticing a number "4" at the end of the hallway, I head toward it, my card still in hand. I slide the card into the slot. "Let's see what V.I.P. really is," I say as I open the door.
I wait for the elevator doors to close in front of Nate before turning to Emily's sulking figure in front of me. "Emily."
She looks up from her sulked figure, her eyes downcast. "Jen, why'd you stop me from getting an answer from him?"
She's always been aggressive and if she doesn't get her way, she becomes like this. Always.
She sighs, "Emily," and pauses immediately afterwards. "People are entitled to their own secrets they don't wish to tell anyone. That was Nate's secret, and he didn't want to tell it."
Contrary to what I wanted, Emily's eyes burn with determination, "Then I'll find out that secret whether he likes it not. Jen, I'm going to travel with Nate with or without his and your consent. Jen, I would like my trainer card back now since you've been holding it for me."
She's shocked by what she just said. "What?"