Ever since I was young, I've had this... itch—this yearning to be different—to be better than everyone else. Before long, that itch had devolved into a full-blown thirst to be the best in everything. Even in the most inconsequential things, I couldn't stand losing. I couldn't even tolerate being second best. It was annoying, really. At least, at first, when I sucked at, well, just about everything.

My brother, the Prodigy of Ecruteak, thought it was endearing to be so competitive. Father called it an edge that would serve me well in the future. Mom, she called it a curse that could ruin my life if I wasn't careful. Me? I call it ego, and it's what pushes me to surpass not just the Gym Leaders and Elite Four but each and every single one of the Champions as well... it's what won't allow me to rest until I am undisputedly the strongest trainer in the world.

Me? I don't want to be the best... I want to be King. OC-MC. Flying-Type Specialist.

Chapter 1: The Sky is Beautiful Today, isn't it?

The sun dipped low in the sky, molding lasting shadows over the nature trails and parks of Ecruteak City. I strolled leisurely along the winding paths, hands tucked into my dark yukata. A stiff, pleasant fall breeze whipped my long bang to the side. I smiled, taking a long, pleasant breath as I swept my hand across my head, my fingers teasing the bun in the back. Early evening was my favorite time to wander these grounds. I tried to do it at least twice a week, preferably after leg day. It worked out the knots in them and allowed me to increase my daily step count by doing something I loved. The world seemed to hold its breath in anticipation for the night, and in that quiet moment, the beauty of nature enthralled me like nothing else.

I've lived in Ecruteak my entire life, but the wonder of this place never ceased to amaze me. As the future head of the Matsuba Family, I knew that strength and charisma would be expected of me, and I was actually anticipating taking the reins from my father, but it was moments like these when I felt truly connected to the world around me. My love for exploring and adoring nature was not a weakness but rather a source of inspiration and motivation for challenges I could only dream of.

I couldn't wait to just journey out a little further, have a pokemon of my own, and crush all the other trainers that sought the same prize I did. I wanted to show the world that I alone had what it took to become the undisputedly strongest trainer alive.

As I continued down the path, rows upon rows of magnificent trees reached out to greet me. Wisteria trees, with their ethereal drapes of purple blossoms, were always a gratifying sight. Purple was one of my favorite colors, second only to the color black. Cherry blossom trees dressed in delicate pink petals were just as beautiful as wisteria trees, and coral bark Johtoian maples and bloodgood Kantonian maples standing tall with their fiery red leaves were just unique. Trees that sprouted truly red leaves all year round were just plain awesome to me. Shidarezakura trees swayed gently in the breeze, their branches playfully teasing the earth below. They were each masterpiece that still never failed to take the wind from my lungs every time I stopped to admire them.

I paused for a moment beneath one of the Wisteria trees, captivated by the sight of several bug-type pokemon crawling along the branches—Caterpie and Weeldes. Their vibrant colors and curious shapes were quite literally testaments to the boundless creativity of the natural world. In any other context, they might have appeared strange or even grotesque, but here, among the wild tapestry of the park, they were just another beautiful thread in the ever-changing picture.

Speaking of threads...

I lifted a brow when a curious Tarountula hung from a seemingly flimsy, gaunt thread. Gaunt, it may have been, but flimsy it was not. The average Tarountula spun webs sturdy enough to defend itself from small and medium-sized birds and adolescent Scythers. Amongst bug-type pokemon that did not share a poison typing, they had the most potent neurotoxic venom in the world. A parasitic concentrated enough to paralyze pokemon like the Paras line, bruising Ledians, Swadloons, Joltiks, and some species of small avian pokemon, like Pidgey or Hoothoots if they weren't careful. Normally, though, Hoothoots were fine. They were intelligent predators and more than weary of Tarountula.

It was their venom, not their many rows of fangs, that made me steer clear of it as it dangled inches from my face. They appeared harmless enough, but they weren't anything but. Even the weakest of pokemon like Rattatas and Weedles could effortlessly kill humans if they wanted to. It was fortunate that most of these smaller pokemon evolved throughout time to eat plants and scavenge for leftover meats rather than hunt.

With the verdant foliage gently swaying in the breeze, I continued my journey through Ecruteak's nature trails. Soon, a picturesque bridge came into view, its ancient, scarlet wooden beams arching gracefully over a serene stream. The water below flowed with a calming murmur.

As I stepped onto the bridge, the wood creaked softly beneath my feet, echoing whispers under me. The stream below was home to an array of minor aquatic pokemon, playfully darting between the rocks and shimmering currents. Their joyful dance captivated me, their electrifying hues contrasting against the subtly rippling water.

A fleeting pod of Finneon fluttered along by, right over a Pyukumuku. A cute little Chinchou paused, eying me with its strange eyes. I smiled, my clothed knee scraping the dirt. I stuck my finger in the water, and the Chinchou swam around it, cautious at first. Then, its antennae twitched. They drew closer to my finger until both touched, and I felt a humorous spark stab into my finger and jolt all the way up to my wrist. I chuckled and lifted my finger from the water.

The Chinchou swam excitedly in a circle once or twice—I have no idea how many times it swam. It was so fast that it just looked like a blur to me. In a split second, it zoomed on again, playfully zapping another one of its kind. The two of them rocketed through the stream at even faster speeds.

They're quick little bastards, aren't they?

Across the bridge, I found myself on a miniature island, a hidden oasis of stunning beauty nestled within the heart of the park. Well, not really. It wasn't hidden at all. Almost everyone who ventures through the forests like I do knows this lake is here. It just felt hidden, what with the towering trees that draped overhead in lush foliage that formed a canopy overhead, filtering the soft orange glow of ornate lanterns that adorned the branches. They illuminated a diverse collection of seedlings and flowers that seemed to compete for attention with their vivid colors and intricate shapes.

I paused on the island, feeling a sense of tranquility wash over me as I took in the breathtaking scene. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and fragrant blossoms, and the muted symphony of rustling leaves and distant bird calls enveloped me like a soothing embrace. It was an amazing smell. It really was. I could describe "how" it smelled all day long, but I'd fail at depicting how amazing it smelled to my nostrils. It felt like its own unique experience, known only to me.

At least, that's what I liked to think.

It was in these moments of solitude, surrounded by the unbridled beauty of the natural world, that I felt truly alive and at peace with myself. My life may have been destined for excitement and adventure—I just knew it was—but it was here, amidst the quiet elegance of Ecruteak's parks, that I found solace and inspiration. Often, I used to wander out into these woods with my brother's pokemon when I was particularly stuck on a school project or homework. It let me think and seemed to just evaporate my stress.

I stepped off the island, feeling a pang of reluctance as I left its tranquil embrace. The soft glow of the lanterns lingered in my peripheral vision, urging me to turn back and bask in their warmth once more.

Leaving the miniature island behind, I ventured deeper into the park, following the winding path as it weaved through dense foliage and overgrown shrubbery. My footsteps were almost inaudible against the symphony of nature that surrounded me, each rustle of leaves and distant call of pokemon harmonizing with the rhythmic beat of my own heart.

The landscape gradually transformed as I continued along the trail, the lush greenery giving way to a more rugged terrain dominated by massive boulders and steep inclines. As I clambered up the rocky slopes, my breath caught in my throat at the sight that unfolded before me: the magnificent Atharey mountain range, its towering peaks swathed in a blanket of misty clouds that seemed to defy gravity itself. The sheer cliffs rose into the sky like gargantuan pillars, their ancient faces etched with the scars countless millennia old.

As my eyes traced the contours of the mountains, they were drawn to the source of a thunderous roar that reverberated through the valley. Nestled amidst the craggy heights was a massive waterfall, its powerful cascade of water plummeting from an unfathomable height and crashing down into the churning pond below.

I stood there, transfixed by the hypnotic dance of water and stone, as the spray from the falls kissed my face with an icy caress. The mighty torrent surged forth with a primal force, carving its path through the earth as it had done for ages uncounted.

It was still as beautiful as the day Mom showed it to me, all three feet of me, buttocks strapped onto her shoulders.

The clearing surrounding the waterfall expanded before me like a verdant oasis, an emerald paradise hidden within the depths of Ecruteak's forests. Towering trees with leaves that shimmered in the dappled sunlight formed a lush canopy overhead, their sturdy branches home to countless avian pokemon chirping melodiously amid the foliage.

I wandered deeper into the clearing, my senses awakening to the symphony of scents and sounds that filled the air. The earth beneath my feet felt cool and damp. As I brushed past ferns and flowers, I caught glimpses of bug-type pokemon flitting through the undergrowth, their delicate wings or mandibles glistening with dewdrops as they danced among the plants.

Despite having witnessed this view countless times before, my breath was still taken away by the sheer beauty of it. But it was more than just the aesthetics; it was the boundness of it all. Life, right here, in these woods, seemed infinite. Like they went on forever.

With a sense of fulfillment coursing through my veins, I reluctantly tore my gaze away from the magnificent waterfall and took one last deep breath, savoring the crisp air and the intoxicating scent of damp earth that filled my lungs. With a final lingering glance at the breathtaking spectacle, I turned away from the waterfall, its roar still echoing in my ears as I retraced my steps down the rocky path.

As I retraced my steps along the winding path that led back to Ecruteak City, the shadows grew longer, and the night began to wrap itself around the first. Before long, the familiar sights and sounds of the bustling cityscape greeted me, accompanied by the warm glow of paper lanterns lighting the streets. Their soft orange light lit up the streets effortlessly, as did the same soft but bright orange glow in people's windows.

Joyous Halloween festivities unfolded around me drew me further into the world of Ecruteak's enchanting nightlife. Children darted through the streets, their laughter ringing out as they showed off their elaborate costumes—some dressed as fearsome warriors, others as their favorite pokemon, and even a few as princes and princesses. Parents trailed closely behind, their own faces painted with a mixture of amusement and concern as they struggled to keep up with their own excitable children.

Old Johtoian-style structures stood proud and elegant, their dark wooden beams and intricately carved eaves adorned with delicate paper lanterns. As I ventured further into the heart of the city, the towering fall-style trees wavered in the evening gusts, their branches heavy with stimulating foliage.

Countless shops and homes nestled comfortably within the city's embrace, their doors invitingly open to reveal their wares and to let intoxicating smells waft out onto the streets to attract hungry stomachs. There were more than a few well-looked-after gardens attached to people's homes as well.

I turned a corner and strayed upon an open courtyard framed by weeping cherry blossoms, their petals dancing gently in the breeze. In the center stood a magnificent stone fountain, luxuriant patterns impressed into its surface as water poured gracefully from the mouths of carved dragon heads.

My heart swelled as I observed children dressed in various costumes, accompanied by their beloved pokemon, celebrating the season with laughter and play. They darted through the streets, their faces painted with excitement, while a racket of voices called out in unison—some urging caution, others simply reveling in the joyous atmosphere.

"Slow down!" cried one mother, chasing after her young son, who was dressed as a fearsome Tyranitar, his tiny arms flailing wildly as he raced through the crowd.

"Wait up!" shouted another parent, sprinting after her daughter who, clad in a sparkling Gardevoir gown, skipped happily along with her Rockruff nestled securely in her arms.

The warm glow of lanterns illuminated the cobblestone streets, casting playful shadows on the faces of children in costumes as they darted from door to door, giggling and shouting with glee. The scent of roasted chestnuts and candy apples filled the air, tickling my nostrils. I couldn't help but smile at the sight; Halloween had always been one of my favorite times of the year.

As I meandered through the bustling crowd, a young boy dressed as a Feraligatr dashed past, his plastic tail swinging wildly behind him. His laughter was contagious, and I found myself grinning even wider. Tonight, the city was alive with an undeniable energy that seemed to saturate every corner and crevice. Its enchanting influence elevated even the most ordinary places into something extraordinary.

Not that Ecruteak needed it. Even, somehow, if it had somehow become any other boring and dull place—like Violet City—the sheer beauty of it would be enough to keep my interest.

My stomach rumbled, reminding me of my original mission, and I quickened my pace. As I neared the familiar two-story building, its exterior adorned with superbly crafted dark-oak wooden panels, I caught sight of several tables scattered around the outside, each one filled with customers eagerly indulging in the delectable treats before them. My stomach grumbled again when I smelled sweet soy sauce and fried foods.

With practiced ease, I slid onto one of the comfortable stools situated just outside the windowed bar, my mouth watering in anticipation. Outdoor tables were nestled beneath the sheltering branches of cherry blossom trees, their petals gently cascading to the ground, while a row of stools lined the windowed bar. The gentle clink of ceramic cups and plates echoed softly in my ears, punctuated by the satisfied sighs of patrons as they savored each bite of their treats.

It wasn't long before my patience was rewarded. Yamazaki Yoshiaki, the owner and sole chef of my favorite sweet vendor, emerged from the kitchen, his face lighting up in recognition as our eyes met. "Kisuke! It's been too long, my friend," he called out, extending a hand in greeting.

"You mean a few days?" I replied, shaking his hand with a grin.

"Too long." He sniffed. "I'm a working man, and you're my most paying customer. You should be coming here every day and get fat and never leave."

"Me? Fat? Can you imagine it?" I inquired in return, chuckling along with the old man. "How's Uyeno-chan?" I asked, my curiosity piqued about his daughter. The last time I'd seen her, she had been a shy girl with aspirations to become a pokemon coordinator.

"Ah, Uyeno! She's doing wonderful, Kisuke-kun," Yamazaki laughed, the lines around his eyes crinkling with warmth. "She just started school this year."

"Really? That's great. Does she still want to be a coordinator?" I remembered her passion for creating dazzling performances with her pokemon. She'd talk all about it when she'd sit on these very stools while her father worked.

He shook his head, chuckling softly. "No, actually. She wants to become a trainer now." He looked at me pointedly, and I could see the glint in his eyes. "I hold you responsible for that change, you know."

"Me?" I feigned surprise, though inwardly, I knew exactly what he meant. Uyeno had often watched my public training sessions with my brother with admiration, and I had encouraged her to try her hand at battling as well. It seemed I had inadvertently become a role model for her.

Oops.

I shrugged. "Well, teenage girls do change their minds quite often. She may just swap right back to putting on dresses and making stunning little performances."

"Fine, fine. Now, what will you be having, Kisuke?"

I didn't even have to think about it.

"Four dorayakis, two dishes of strawberry daifuku, and six orders of extra sweet mitarashi dango, please," I said, my mouth watering at the thought of the treats soon to come.

"Ah, the usual, then," Yamazaki chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Give me a few moments, and your order will be ready."

"Take your time."

"Your total comes to ₱43," he informed me, and I smoothly pulled out my wallet, handing over the money along with a ten-pokedollar tip. Yamazaki accepted both graciously, bowing his head slightly in thanks.

As I waited for my sweets, I let my thoughts drift to Uyeno, imagining her future as a trainer. Despite the initial surprise at her decision, I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. Truthfully, I was never all that much of a fan of contests. I'd met more than a few coordinators come through here, looking for the contest hall to the north. They seemed nice enough until you got them talking about trainers, and oh boy. When you actually got them to speak, the vitriol never seemed to end.

They absolutely detested trainers. There was no in-between. I've never met a coordinator who didn't. Only ones that hid it better than the overwhelming majority. Nevertheless, I didn't hate coordinators. I didn't quite understand the appeal, that much is true, but hate?

Like them?

Speaking as if trainers were nothing but out-of-date brutes who encouraged pokemon "cock-fighting" and whatnot?

Not likely.

No matter what Uyeno chose, he'd cheer her on if he ever saw her on the road in the future. Whether it be a coordinator or trainer or even just a humble wandering pokemon owner.

I took a deep breath, letting the crisp autumn air fill my lungs, and felt the excitement that always accompanied this time of year.

"Here you are, my boy," Yamazaki said, placing a stack of styrofoam packages in front of me. The enticing aroma of freshly made sweets already perforated the styrofoam packages and made my stomach growl torturously.

Damn... that smelled awesome.

"Ah, thank you!" I sighed, glancing at the vibrant scene outside the window. "I just love this time of year. The weather gets amazing, the festivities start to get rampant, and the lights just seem to shine a little bit brighter."

Yamazaki laughed, wiping his hands on his apron. "It's a shame you won't be here to enjoy the winter festivities, with you leaving soon and all."

"Eh," I mumbled, a confident smile forming on his lips. "I've seen it ten, fifteen times before, and Ecruteak isn't going anywhere." I chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "I doubt the place will even change a bit before I get back."

My words may have sounded arrogant to some, but my love for Ecruteak was unwavering. It was the place where I'd grown up. It wasn't like other cities. I wholly believed that. It was truly the best place to live in the world. Maybe that self-assuredness was just me coping, hoping that it never ever changed. Perfection could never be improved upon, but it could certainly be soiled and ruined.

Yamazaki's laughter was warm and familiar like the glow of lanterns that lined the streets.

"Ecruteak will still be here, same as always, waiting for your return," he said, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "I think even now, you may be generously overestimating just how much it will change."

"Exactly," I replied, my voice confident but tinged with a hint of nostalgia. With a deep breath, I picked up the styrofoam packages containing the delectable treats, their sweet aroma teasing my senses.

"Take care, Yamazaki!" I called out as I turned to leave, feeling the weight of the food in my hands paired with the weight of responsibility sitting on my shoulders.

"Good luck, Kisuke-boy!" he responded, raising his hand in a farewell gesture. "And remember, we'll all be cheering for you from back here in Ecruteak!"

"You better not miss one of my battles! I'll know if you do!"

I heard Yamazaki erupt in a full belly laugh as it entered the crowd of shuffling feet, mingling voices, and a hundred bodies.

My family's estate was only a short stroll away. It was an utterly massive one-story minka. I'd grown up in this house, but I still found myself getting lost in it sometimes. It was more like a castle that spanned several miles than a simple house.

The house stood proud amidst a vast garden adorned with foliage and wonderful trees, their branches reaching out as if to embrace the structure. The soothing sound of a flowing river whispered from behind the house, harmonizing with the rustling leaves carried by the gentle breeze.

I slid the front door open, and the rich scent of cedarwood welcomed me. I slid off my sandals. Tatami mats blanketed the floors, and shoji screens partitioned the rooms. Paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, casting soft, warm light on the wooden corridors adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes of nature and ancient legends. I passed my Grandfather's portrait and wandered by the maids who were diligently tidying up.

My footsteps echoed softly against the tatami as I approached my father's room. I stared at the sliding door, a tight frown. The only reason this day hadn't been perfect was the reason he'd been out and about in the first place. Nature walks always calmed my nerves and allowed this hyperactive mind of mine to take a temporary reprieve.

Arceus knows I needed the former.

Gathering my courage, I raised my hand and knocked gently on the sliding door that led to my father's room. The silence that followed felt like an eternity, but after a moment, his deep voice beckoned me inside.

"Enter."

As I slid the door open, I was surprised to see my brother Morty sitting on the floor across from Father. His presence only heightened the tension in the air, making it feel as if the room itself was holding its breath. Before my mind could swim, Morty gave me a warm smile. I couldn't help but return the gesture.

Closing the door behind me, I took a few steps forward and bowed respectfully to my father before sitting down crisscrossed on the tatami mat.

"Good evening, Father," I greeted him politely, trying to maintain a calm facade despite the whirlwind of anxiety swirling within me.

"Kisuke," he nodded back. "I trust you are well?"

"Yes, thank you," I replied, hesitating for a moment before adding, "I brought some sweets for us to share."

"From Yamazaki-san's, I gather?"

"Yes."

Morty exploded with excitement. "I absolutely love Yamazaki's food!" he exclaimed. "Please, please tell me you bought those dorayakis!"

Father slid us all plates as I reached for the bag of sweets. Carefully, I arranged the treats onto our plates, giving Morty his four dorayakis—bidding him a sly grin— and placing two dishes of strawberry daifuku on Father's plate, bowing my head.

My own plate held a delightful serving of sweet mitarashi dango. The scent alone was enough to make my mouth water. Each skewer held five round dumplings coated in a glossy, sweet soy glaze. Picking up a stick, I bit into the first dango, savoring the chewy texture and the sweetness that immediately flooded my taste buds.

Silence hung heavy in the room, punctuated only by the sound of our chewing. Morty occasionally glanced between Father and me, no doubt sensing the unspoken tension that hung in the room.

It was time, wasn't it?

To have the same conversation they've had a hundred times before.

"Father," I began, setting aside my half-eaten dango and gathering my courage, "I've given it much thought, and I still want to travel to Sinnoh to begin my journey."

Father's face remained unchanged, stern as ever. Finishing one of his portions, he stopped eating, placing his chopsticks down and slowly reaching for his cup of warm tea. He took a deliberate sip. I felt my palms grow clammy.

Time crawled by as Father's gaze bore into me, the ticking of a distant clock only adding to the unbearable tension. If my hands were clammy before, they were practically soaked now. I could feel Morty shifting uncomfortably on the floor beside me, but my eyes remained locked with Father's.

"Kisuke," he finally said, breaking the silence that felt like an eternity. "That is what I wanted to speak to you about."

Unsurprisingly.

He eyed us both, giving me a moment to let his words sink in before continuing. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind and have you travel through Johto first instead?"

I shook my head, feeling a knot forming in my throat. "No, Father," I replied politely. "I've made up my mind."

"Can you enlighten me as to why you don't wish to travel through Johto?" he asked, his tone remaining even.

Taking a deep breath, I sighed and spoke the truth. "When Morty traveled through Johto the first time, all they could talk about was where he came from and who his father and grandfather were. They looked at the family name more than they did him. They acknowledged your accomplishments but not his."

My digits curled into my obi, and my teeth ground into one another. Morty just sighed, recalling the very same memories I was speaking of.

"I want people to see me for who I am, not for who my brother is or who my father is, or my father's father. Is it selfish of me to want? Yes. But it is what I want."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I braced myself for Father's reaction. Though, my shoulders slackened, and my body was lighter. Just keeping that to myself after this handful of years made my stomach twist every time we fought about this.

The silence stretched on, making me squirm under his scrutinizing gaze. Beside me, Morty fidgeted as well.

Father's nod came as a shock, its subtle motion cutting through the nervy silence. "Very well," he said, taking another slow sip of his tea.

I blinked, unable to believe my ears. Morty mirrored my surprise, his eyes wide with incredulity. "You'll let me go?" I asked unenthusiastically as if I was just told that the world was ending. "Just like that?"

"Indeed," Father replied, his tone unwavering. "That is what you want, and you will always do what you want. You would have left if I had not given you my blessing."

A snort escaped Morty's nose, despite his best efforts.

Father seemed to not hear him.

"You are an adult. You can make your own decisions and come and go as you please. I only hoped that you would think more about the family, but I digress."

My frown deepened at his words, but I couldn't deny the truth in them. My lips parted to speak, to say something, but was I to say?

Nothing.

So, I said nothing and just bowed my head respectfully. But before I could take my leave, Morty leapt from his seat and halted me with a firm grip on my shoulder, his fingers digging into the fabric of my yukata. My heart thudded loudly in my chest as I waited for him to speak, unsure of what was to come next.

I frowned at the hint of disappointment in his words but nodded all the same, grateful for his approval. As I prepared to leave the room, Morty suddenly stood up and blocked my path, a gift-wrapped box in his hands. His eyes twinkled with barely suppressed excitement.

"Here," he said, thrusting the box into my hands. "Open it."

A present? I eyed the colorfully wrapped box, puzzled. "You got me something?"

"Obviously." Morty flicked my bang, and I flicked his forehead in retaliation. "You're a brat, you know that? Just open the damn box."

"Language."

Morty grimaced, his head falling in a short bow. "Apologies, Father."

With barely contained excitement, I eagerly tore at the wrapping paper, my fingers fumbling in anticipation. As the last bit of paper fell away, revealing a shiny, red and white pokeball nestled inside, my eyes widened in awe.

Turning to Morty, who was trying to stifle his laughter, I grinned from ear to ear.

A surge of energy and anticipation pulsed through me as I held the ball in my palms.

"Go on, release it! he said, his voice filled with mirth. "If you know how, that is."

I playfully shot him a glare, but any witty retort was lost in the thrill of what lay before me. With a deep breath, I held the pokeball aloft and pressed the button, watching as a burst of light erupted from the device. In an instant, a small avian pokemon materialized in front of me, its wings fluttering as it landed gracefully on the floor.

Small, no, it was actually quite tiny. If I didn't know what I was staring at, I might have even called it pathetic. Uh-huh. As it was now, it was pretty weak, almost more so than most of the other first-stage bird-like pokemon. But I wasn't looking at its dark blue feathers or yellow underbelly—I was envisioning its gargantuan, stalwart, invincible stature and steel-coated chassis of a body.

"Hey there," I said, grinning as I knelt down to greet my new companion. "I'm Kisuke, and I'll be your trainer from now on."

Rookidee looked at me, tilting its head as if sizing me up. It then cast a glance over at Morty, its queerly colored gaze narrowing, who gave a reassuring nod. That seemed to be all the confirmation the little bird needed, for it turned back to me and chirped softly.

Was... was that it? It accepted me? Just like that?

Whatever. I wasn't going to ask for a more tiresome outcome.

I showed my fist, and Rookidee, once again, tilted its head. It stared at me, a glint of irritation in its eyes. It knew what I wanted. There wouldn't be irritation in those eyes if it hadn't. I sighed, pulling my fist back—

It fluttered its wings, jumping up. I blinked, and it slammed its diminutive head into my knuckles. Landing softly, it squawked, most likely perturbed that I moved away.

"You're feisty," I muttered, and Rookidee huffed, rolling its eyes. "... I think I'm going to like you."

Again, Rookidee huffed, as if to ask, "What is there not to love?"

"Alright, Rookidee," I said gently, "I'm going to return you to your pokeball for now, but we'll start working together soon. I promise." At my words, the small bird smiled slightly, its gaze still fixed on me with an air to it.

It squawked inquisitively.

"Yes, that means training. A whole lot of it, too."

Before Rookidee vanished into its ball, I could have sworn I saw it simper.

Morty leaned back casually, a proud smile playing across his lips. "This Rookidee will be an amazing starter for you, little bro. I got it from one of the top breeders in Galar. In fact, this little guy is the finest one they've bred in their last ten clutches."

My eyes widened in shock, and I couldn't help but blurt out, "That must have been really expensive!"

Morty's smirk grew even wider. "Yup. Cost me a pretty penny. Seventy-thousand, to be precise, but it was worth it."

A rush of emotions, including gratitude and disbelief, flooded through me. "Seventy-thousand? You spent seventy-thousand on... me?!" That, I could hardly even believe. "Seventy-thousand! I could've purchased an actual regional starter for that kind of money!"

"Way cheaper, actually," Morty replied nonchalantly, clearly enjoying my reaction. "But it's the quality that matters. You'll learn that if you wanna buy pokemon from breeders in the future, the price increases astronomically in regards to what level of quality you want. And let me tell you, that little guy is top-shelf. Just set your expectations a little lower than that, okay? He's still super young. Don't want you to think I just gave you a juggernaut for a starter and end up getting swept by some dude's Rattata."

"Guess so," I conceded, overwhelmed by the gravity of my brother's generosity. With a surge of emotion, I wrapped my arms around Morty, hugging him tightly. He returned the gesture, his own feelings evident as well.

Father cleared his throat, drawing our attention back to him. "Now that this is finished, sit down so I can enjoy a drink with my two amazing sons." The warmth in his voice was unmistakable, and both Morty and I exchanged smiles before taking our seats.

"Sumiko," Father called out to the maid, requesting her presence. "Please bring in some sake for all of us."

Not long after, Sumiko gracefully entered the room, carrying a tray with three cups and a bottle of fine sake. The liquid shimmered like liquid gold under the warm glow of the paper lanterns as she carefully poured it into each cup. I could almost smell the rich fragrance wafting through the air as Father thanked her before she left us to our drinks.

I love drinking with Father. He always had the best sake. Sure, the cheaper stuff was great, but his stuff was always top-of-the-line.

"Kisuke," Father began, taking a slow sip of his sake, savoring the taste for a moment. "You will board a plane next Monday and meet with Professor Rowan. You will treat him with the same respect you would me. He will register you for the Lily Valley Conference."

I nodded.

"Thank you, Father."

I took a sip of my own sake, the smooth warmth spreading down my throat and settling in my chest. For a moment, I allowed myself to relax and simply enjoy the time with my family.

But that moment was short-lived. As I set my cup back on the table, I caught sight of Father sliding a neatly wrapped package across the floor toward me. Confusion etched itself on my face as I looked up at him, only to be met with a small, knowing smirk.

"What? You thought your brother was the only one capable of giving out gifts?"

I grinned, feeling my curiosity piqued as I reached for the package. My hands reached eagerly for the package, yearning to discover its contents. With impatient fingers, I tore into the smooth wrapping paper, revealing a plain, unassuming box.

Oh, you shouldn't have.

With the box now in my hands, I carefully unclasped it, cautiously lifting the lid. Inside lay an unassuming touch-screen phone, sleek and modern in design. The nature of the gift didn't upset me; if anything, it made me smile even more.

"Thank you for the new phone. My old one was a bit beat up."

Father lifted a dull brow and stated, "Ah, that isn't just a phone."

Before I could ask what he meant by that, the phone suddenly flew out of my grip and began to hover around me. Startled, I instinctively backed away. As the screen turned on, a robotic face greeted me, its features both intriguing and unnerving all at once. Then, a male, robotic voice spoke to me from the phone.

"Hello, Kisuke. I am Rotom, and unfortunately, I am your new companion and partner," the voice said, its tone surprisingly lively for being artificial.

Did… did that phone just sass me?

"Rotom?" I repeated, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that my supposed phone was now levitating beside me.

"Indeed," Rotom replied, seemingly reading my thoughts. "I am here to assist you in any way I can, whether it be providing information on pokemon, guiding you through unfamiliar regions, or simply offering companionship during your travels. All at your leisure."

I just blinked, my face settling blankly.

"You really got me a Rotom Phone?" I struggled to form a coherent response, still unable to fully comprehend what was happening.

Morty chuckled. He warmly slung an arm around my shoulders. With a teasing grin, he pulled out his own Rotom Phone, brandishing it proudly. "You bet he did," he declared, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Who do you think gave him the idea? Look at that, we match."

I shook my head, still feeling overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events. It was one thing to receive a new phone, but this was something else entirely. A Rotom Phone was a coveted piece of technology, the likes of which I had only ever dreamed of owning.

"How did you manage to get one?" I asked Father, my curiosity getting the better of me. For me, I wanted to say, but Father was no stranger to looking deeper beyond the words themselves. "Rotom Phones aren't being sold to the public for another few years, right?"

"Correct," Father replied, nodding in agreement. His expression remained enigmatic, betraying nothing about the lengths he must have gone to in order to procure such a rare item. "They aren't selling them to the populace for quite some time."

"Then how...?" I trailed off, unsure how to phrase my question without sounding ungrateful.

"Well," Father began, smirking ever so slightly, "you aren't among the normal population, are you?"

His words struck me like a bolt of lightning. I shrugged, trying to downplay it. "I'm pretty sure I'm just as normal as anyone else."

In retrospect, it was a pathetic lie.

Morty shook his head, a glint of obstinacy in his eyes.

"If you want to get to the top, little bro, it's gonna be a whole lot easier if you use your connections more. You have privileges and connections that normal people would kill to have." He leaned in closer, his tone still a bit lax. "Not using them would be a total waste."

Father's stern voice cut through the air like a finely honed blade. "Listen to your brother."

My heart hammered in my chest, and I sighed, nodding in reluctant agreement. "I understand." As I spoke, the Rotom Phone continued to float around me idly, its digital face changing expressions from time to time. "But am I going to get into any trouble using this?"

"No legal trouble will come your way. Should anyone of actual legal standing complain, give them my phone number. I will have it straightened out that very evening."

Relief washed over me as I nodded, apprehensively plucking the Rotom Phone from the air and storing it in my yukata. Morty's hand smacked against my back, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Hey, don't forget the user manual is in the box," he advised. "Keep it on you for the first few weeks and give it a once-over while you're at it. It isn't too complicated to use, but if you ever get confused, just ask the phone directly. It'll be a whole lot easier, trust me. The Rotom inside will be a major help."

"Thanks," I said. "I promise I'll take good care of it."

"Oh, one more thing," Morty added as if he'd just remembered. "You should feed it whole batteries every week or so."

Right. Rotom were electric-type pokemon, first and foremost. Like many, if not all, species of electric-types, they could sustain themselves just by absorbing electricity if they so chose. Since the Rotom was permanently possessing the phone, it couldn't very well eat other things. Keeping it charged and allowing it to devour batteries was, in all likelihood, the only way to sustain it.

"Got it." With newfound confidence, I pulled my brother into another hug, embracing the warmth that radiated from his familiar frame. My brother may not have been a fitness enjoyer, nor did he practice martial arts—well, not since he turned fourteen, the year Father made him train—but his physique was still impressive. As we separated, I turned to Father and wrapped him in an equally tight embrace. "I can't thank you enough for the gifts."

Father smiled down at me. "It was my pleasure," he murmured before releasing me from our hug.

As I took a step back, the reality of my impending journey began to settle in. Excitement coursed through my veins, knowing that, finally, my life-changing adventure was about to begin. I'd been looking forward to my first regional journey since I could spell pokemon.

"Father."

He glanced up, staring at my back. My palm rested on the door.

"Yes?"

"You don't have to worry about the family." His scratchy-thin brow rose ever so slightly at his son's voice. "I already told you—I'm going to become Champion. I want to be the one to overthrow Lance. I'm going to be the one to rip off his wings and toss them into the stands. When everyone is cheering my name, they'll also be cheering ours."

He watched me slide the door open, and without looking back even once, I shut it, but not before whispering—

"... I'll be the one to bring this family the most glory and honor it's ever seen."

Minato smirked, sipping his sake.

A Matsuba sitting on the throne... if only Lance's predecessor could have lived to see the day, the arrogant prick.

Voilà! A decent little introductory chapter, if I do say so myself. It's a premise that's a bit more simple and not quite, oh, I don't know, grim/dark as some other, admittedly fantastical stories. At least as of the time of writing the first chapter. Who knows what the future may hold for this story? It's going to feature more than a few adult elements, and I won't be going full-on "baby mode" or what have you.

I've been seeing type-specialist fics pop all around Fanfiction for the past year, and I've been going back and forth with making one. So, I decided, after I was struck with an idea that was spawned from reading an entirely different genre of manga, to make this story. I won't spoil which manga series gave me the glorious idea for this story, but within a few chapters, a few of you may just figure it out. Maybe even sooner. It depends on how remarkably I am overestimating my own intelligence.

As you all could probably tell, this will be a flying-type specialist MC story. I haven't seen one of those done yet, so I figured: what the hell? The Kisuke is the son of a wealthy businessman and the younger brother of Morty, the Ecruteak Gym Leader. I've seen one or two stories have SI replacing Gym Leaders' consciousness, and while those stories are interesting, I don't want to hop onto that train. I'm not quite sure I could pull it off as well as those amazing authors can. Anyhow, this is more like a chapter one rather than a prologue, so I will be seeing you all very soon.

If you all enjoyed that chapter, please, do leave a comment and favorite and follow the fic. I live only for validation on Fanfiction.