We passed beneath the grand gates of Cerulean. I gazed dumbfoundedly about; it was obvious to me now that every major city was swathed by the shadows of colossal walls. Though there crept a tingling, wary feeling in my mind.

There's something off. Or perhaps not off, but different. I thought, lurking about in my mind, searching for clues to this mysterious. That's it!

Although Cerulean City looked prestigious, the buildings within had rifts—no, not rifts—but wrinkles—yes, that fits. Though the walls and gates, adorned with pearls from the deep oceans, spoke of ancient waves and timeless wisdom, kissed by the color of the sea, the construction itself was brand new.

This City weren't always confided behind walls. I wonder how it looked then.

"I must speak with the Gym Leader," Misty said, her task glimmering softly in the depth of her eyes. "Will you find us lodging for the night?"

"But Misty," I began, "I don't have any coin."

"Figure it out," she said, zigzagging away through the crowds. "See you later."

As midday waned into evening, I wandered through Cerulean City, searching for a hotel; the city smelled like the sea and looked like an aquatic wonderland. It was more modern than Pewter; buildings rose and fell like waves, facades adorned with mosaics that reflected stars of white, as the ocean did. Overhanging torches gleamed in the streets with flickering light. Every orange flame bathed blue against the windows, as though kissed by the tide.

I didn't find a hotel; thankfully, I found the Pokémon Center. Its design was a lush beach; white sand stroked upwards from the floor, then washed light-blue as waves danced vividly—too vividly, if you ask me—about the facade. It evoked nothing but seasickness in me.

I stepped inside.

It was bustling everywhere; thankfully, there were no queues. I walked up to a hauntingly beautiful woman, and when I met her eyes, I was so sure…

"Nurse Joy?" I said. "Are you here too?"

She smiled, tilting her head. "I hear that a lot," she said. "But I've never seen you before."

"Oh," I stuttered.

"We look alike," she continued. "We're all cousins. Don't ask me how it happened; I couldn't tell you, even if I knew."

"Ah," I said, still flustered.

"So…" she said. "You want me to take a look at your Pokémon?"

"Will you?"

"Of course, it's my job. Oh, look here—you caught a Drowzee—and what is this? An Umbreon? Those are rare around these shores."

At that precise moment, a familiar face jumped up behind me. It was Edgar.

"You caught a Drowzee?" he said, voice jittering.

"I'll be right back," Nurse Joy said, strolling off.

"Hi, Edgar," I said. "Nice to see you again."

"You have to let me trade you," he said, eyes glinting with passion for the psychic Pokémon.

"I don't know, friend," I began, but he cut me off.

"Listen," he interrupted. "I'll trade you my best Eevee—my father is an Eevee breeder, you see; he has loads of them."

"I already have…"

"And," he followed up, "I'll give you this stone." He fished out a blue, glimmering shard; it looked like a rough, uncut diamond, pressed beneath the mountains for thousands of years.

"What is it?" I asked, finding it increasingly difficult to look away.

"It's a Water Stone," he said. "And this one is precious, rare."

"Deal," I said just as Nurse Joy rounded the corner with my Poké Balls. We shook hands.

We took our goodbyes, and as Edgar and I traded Poké Balls—and the Water Stone—I said, "Thanks."

"See you around," said Edgar.

"Bye," I said. As I saw the last glimpse of him vanishing into golden sunlight, I turned and saw a giant photo of Nurse Joy. My heart sank like lead in a gigantic lake.

It read:

Nurse Joy of Viridian City, missing. Family and friends are worried. Please contact your nearest Pokémon Center if you have any news.

I don't know why it felt as though I was at fault—but it did.

The overwhelmed me, too loud somehow; everywhere I looked people smiled as though hardship knew not of this place. Not yet I feared.

My stomach growled; on each corner there was a boutique or a cafe. I went in, the pouch of coins Misty had forced the boys to yield in hand, and whiffed up each and every scent of the cozy bakery.

"Can I get you anything?" asked a young woman behind the counter, smiling warmly.

"Everything for eleven coins," I said, rustling the pouch.

She smiled, perhaps flirtatiously, or maybe it was just her custom. "How about I pick out the best goods for you, and a coffee?"

"No," I replied, a bit too abruptly. Her brows furrowed. "Sorry," I added quickly. "I don't like coffee."

"Oh, okay. Hot chocolate, perhaps?"

I nodded.

"By the way—how old are you?"

"Seventeen," I lied, though it wasn't far from the truth. A month or so; when autumn falls and winter rises.

"Sorry," she said, her voice trailing off. "The bakery is only for adults. It's a rule…" She hesitated, as if unable to explain why. Just then, my stomach let out a loud growl; customers looked up from their newspapers, and I felt my face flush.

The woman leaned in closer. "How about I forget your age, and you don't get me in trouble?"

"I can do that," I agreed.

"Sweet. Go sit over there, and I'll come by once I've finished your order."

The food came a few minutes later; it was really fucking good. I chowed down and left, thinking hours had passed, though time must have stopped, because the sun smacked my face from the same place.

Cerulean's bustling streets soon gave way to a park; within, a river hid, its waters babbling like a brook without sorrows, glittering oddly golden as they passed. I found a bench beneath the shade of a birch tree and finished my hot chocolate. Twigs and branches intertwined overhead, their twined fingers guiding my thoughts to Misty. I drifted deeper into thought—or perhaps sleep—for a while, my body heavy as a rock.

Nearby, redcurrant bushes lined the riverbank, their ripe berries reflecting the dappled light dancing on the water's surface. The river flowed calmly, a steady whisper of love and prosperity that seemed to wash away the city's noise.

I released my Pokémon, watching as they stretched and shook off the confines of their Poké Balls. Umbreon bolted straight into the bushes, snatching up berries with eager bites; Growlithe dashed to the river's edge, barking excitedly at the flowing water. I couldn't help but laugh when the bank crumbled beneath him, sending him tumbling into the river, his fiery spirit momentarily doused. Eevee darted playfully between them, the youngest sibling caught in the mischief of her elders, tricked and teased with every turn. I swore I saw a flicker of yellow fur amidst her soft beige coat.

Machop, however, didn't hesitate. He immediately began lifting rocks nearly as large as himself, throwing them with a force that made the ground tremble slightly. His enthusiasm was infectious; I could see in his eyes the burning desire to grow stronger, to evolve.

Eevee's playful antics drew my gaze back. What would she become? There were so many possibilities. Vaporeon, Jolteon, Flareon… each one powerful in its own way, but which path would be best for her? And us. What to decide. What...

The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the park. As I mulled over these thoughts, I caught a glimpse of fiery orange hair—Misty. She was moving quickly, weaving through the park's pathways.

Without thinking, I jumped up.

"Misty, Misty!" I yelled, sprinting forward. "Stop! It's me, Ash."

She seemed shorter from a distance, and as I reached out, gripping her arm to turn her around, I saw confusion flash in her eyes. My breath caught in my throat as I gasped; this wasn't Misty. The girl blinked, dazed, and I felt the heat rise to my face.

"I-I'm so sorry," I stammered, quickly letting go. "I thought you were someone else."

"Misty?" she asked.

"Yeah, you know her?"

She smiled, and for a moment, I swore I saw a glimmer of Misty in her bluish eyes; though the color was fainter, more aged, yet still so gorgeous–oh, how futile it was to fight her glowing beauty, my gaze enthralled by her captivating presens.

"You must be Ash," she said.

"I must be?" I said.

She giggled. "Oh, you betcha. Now I see what Misty spoke of."

"You've spoken with her?" I asked, noticing pinned badges down the lapels. "Your not the Gym Leader, are you?"

"I am, though not today," she giggled, her eyes twinkling playfully. "You should challenge them."

"Who?" I asked.

"The Gym Leaders of today."

"Why?" I asked. "Who is it?"

"Lori, Mary, and… Misty," she said. "I'm her oldest sister Daisy. Don't underestimate her Wartortle."

I arrived at the Gym, my mind cloudy. It felt like stepping onto a breathtakingly gorgeous beach at dawn; the vast arena stretched before me, as the open sky shone upon me, shimmering with the colors of the sea and sky. Misty caught my eye–this time I was certain– her cheeks flushed, red as the dawn itself. She waved, her hands trembling slightly.

"What the fuck, Misty," I called out.

"I'm so, so… sorry, Ash," she said, her voice tinged with regret.

"Your sister told me to battle you, why?"

"Shit," Misty began, her voice trembling. "It's just her form of a sinister joke. And even if I wanted to, I can't battle you right now. Wartortle needs a break."

"You've been battling this whole time?"

"It's not because I wanted to…" Her gaze flickered as fleeting memories of sorrow and despair set upon her face like darkening shadows. "But I need to strengthen my team. You know why."

"I think I can help with that," I said, reaching into my bag and fetching the mesmerizing Water-Stone. It shone even brighter the nearer to the sea I held it, as though longing for its touch.

"How the hell have you—"

I interrupted her with a hand held high. "Take it."

Her eyes lit up; fire and water clashed within. "You—really? Are you really fucking serious?"

"I am," I said, tossing it to her. It never stopped to amaze me—evolution of Pokémon, that is.

We watched as Eevee touched the stone, evolving into a majestic Vaporeon. Misty's face softened, and a smile touched her lips.

"Right," she said, clearing her throat. "You'll meet us in reversed order. Lori first; Mary second; me third. Okay?"

"And their Pokemon?"

"Water-types, that's all I'm allowed to say, and…" she hesitated, "don't use Growlithe first, please, he's going to have a bad day if you do."

It went dead silent in the arena. At first I was alone; then another Misty emerged with her Seadra.

"Ready, lovebird?" Lori taunted as I released Machop. "No time to wait. Seadra, use Water Pump." It looked as though the Seadra belched a cannon of water, blasting out of it.

"Machop, stay agile!" I commanded.

Machop leaped into action, evading Seadra's jet of water with a quick hop. "Karate Chop, now!" Machop slammed into Seadra, knocking it back.

Lori scowled. "Seadra, no more losing. Use Dragon Breath!"

Seadra let out a roar of ancient power; from it's snout, there emerged a pulsating shadow of dark purple, dwarfing the sprawly trees, bending this way and that.

I knew for a fact that Machop would never dodge it. It was too wide, too high; and the flames of a malicious dragon pounced with unruly precision.

"Endure!" I bellowed. "You must withstand the force."

As it crashed over him, another light, as breathtaking as an evening star swathed in white and shimmering with unyielding grace, appeared from within Machop; it engulfed him, and grew, and grew, and there he was… Machoke.

"Use Low Sweep," I shouted, "into a Seismic Toss."

Machoke did not hesitate.

"Stop!" Lori screamed as Seadra smashed into the sand, waves of grains whiffing up in clouds. "We surrender."

Mary took her place next, her Dewgong waiting eagerly. "Let's see how well you handle me," Mary said. "Dewgong, use Ice Beam!"

"Machop, dodge!" I shouted, but Dewgong's icy blast hit hard, shackles of ice spreading out from his palm and swallowing Machoke's entire arm. The ice, heavy as a moral burden, made Machoke stagger.

"Use the ice as Revenge!"

Machoke struggled but fought back with hard hits, sending Dewgong sliding. Mary's face tightened. "Dewgong, recover and use Ice Beam again!"

The second hit engulfed Machoke's other hand, sending him face-first into the sand.

"It's over," I shouted, returning him. "You did great, Machop."

Machoke had weakened Dewgong, which I knew. Despite Dewgong being a water-type, I understood why Misty told me to use Growlithe second: Growlithe's speed outmatched Dewgong with ease.

"Finish it, Growlithe!" I urged. "Build up speed and fire!" Growlithe's Flamethrower hit Dewgong with a fierce blaze. Although the water-type naturally resisted fire, Growlithe's insatiable thirst for flames sparked it with… So that's what he was doing!

"Brilliant, Growlithe," I shouted, urging him to speed up even more. The ground beneath his feet crackled with electricity.

Finally, after Dewgong endured hits of fire and thunder, Mary sighed. "This match is over. Ash and Growlithe are victorious."

"It's you and me now," I said as Misty and Vaporeon stepped forth.

"It is, babe," she said, winking. "It's you and me."