Note- So I'm a little ahead of schedule and decided to get this one out to you a day early! It was a joy to write this one, especially Elm and Chris' interaction. I tried to express the emotions I would have felt if I had received my starter Pokémon. *Edit- I am currently going back and editing/re-writing portions of these early chapters to better match the writing from my post-high school self. This will continue to be a tedious, but necessary process, so I ask you reread these first few chapters if you'd like more depth and a better intro to Heart and Soul!* Enjoy!


Chapter 2

As morning progressed, the city quickly resumed its activities from the day prior. Morning restaurants thrived on hungry commuters. Schools received their first wave of students. Maintenance began up again on the Pokémon PC transfer line—the roar of jackhammers and clanging pipes echoing from the interlocked cables on the outer west edge of town. With the spring festival on its third day, downtown remained blocked off, turning the normally average city traffic into a chaotic maze of lane cutting. These factors compounded to create a disorienting nightmare for anyone looking to quickly navigate the morning bustle.

"Shoot," Chris hissed, staring down at his PokéGear. The bus was scheduled to depart at this time. He pushed through the massing sea of humanity—jaywalking at every opportunity—and dodging oncoming traffic like he was a Politoed straight out of an old video game. The sidewalk cleared, and for a moment he could see a double-decker bus sitting at the eastern edge of the city. A red and white banner waved in the chill morning breeze, the words 'Cherrygrove City to New Bark Town' written in large, gold print.

This would be the only bus trip to the quaint town that day. Adding to that stress, if all the starter Pokémon were taken today, it'd take weeks before another cropping would be available. With Chris' luck, he knew this day's bus would most likely be full. The paved sidewalk became more and more visible as his distance from downtown grew. He could see the passengers sitting behind their dimmed windows and hear the dull roar of the engine...

The blast of a car horn was all that kept Chris from running straight into the path of a speeding black sports car. He nearly toppled backward as the rush of wind hit his face and clothes, but his feet refused to stop their pursuit. His gaze turned back to the necessary transport, but he found the parking spot vacant. By the time his eyes found the bus, it had nearly reached the city limits.

"Wait!" he yelled, continuing his chase long after the vehicle had departed the city and disappeared over the first hill. He forced himself to come to a stop when the Route 29 sign came in to view. His shoulders slumped and he bent over in a fit of exhaustion and disappointment. "Darn it!" He went to punch the asphalt, but ultimately thought better of it.

It would take half a day to get there, and that was if he did the trip at a dead sprint. Even then, all the starters would be long gone.

Desperate, Chris spun around, eyes scanning for anything that might remedy his tardiness. Cars continued to whirl by on the street. Could he flag one down? As if anyone rushing to work would be cool taking an hour detour for a stranger. Another bus? The city only did one out of town circuit per hour. He did one full spin, then another. Nothing.

Chris slogged over and dropped onto the nearest bench. He released a deep exhale, closing his eyes as the faint hum of traffic tickled his ears. "Maybe it's just not my time…" He sat there, motionless, with his head down and his eyes closed. It took several seconds before he felt another's presence at hand. He looked up and saw, through the harsh glare of the sun, a figure standing over him. Pulling off his black formal hat, the man stepped forward, blocking out the harsh sunlight with the back of his head.

"My dear boy," the man began in a quiet, well spoken manner, "I couldn't help but observe your terrible ordeal." He turned his head down to catch Chris' eye, and the young man realized he was speaking to an older gentlemen. The stress lines in his face and the spots beneath his eyes told him that he'd seen his share of experiences. He pulled back the sleeve of his grey suit and wiped at his brow before continuing. "You are on your way to get your first Pokémon, are you not?"

Chris hid his sulking as best he could and nodded. "Yes sir. Or at least I was. I misjudged how long it would take to get to this end of town."

"I see. Yes, Cherrygrove is quite a deceiving city in terms of size." The man scratched at his chin. He turned his gaze to the sky for a long moment—his eyes following movement—as thoughts seemed to flash before his eyes.

Chris, realizing he still had no idea who this man was, decided he might as well inquire some information from his visitor. "If you don't mind me asking sir, what brings you to Cherrygrove City?"

"Well…" The elderly man rubbed at his chin, his eyes never turning from the sky, "you could say I'm starting a trip as well!" The man let out a soft chuckle. He finally brought his gaze back to Chris. "I received a message from one of my colleagues and it appears that they are in need of my service. I live a couple miles north of Cherrygrove, you see. Before I embark, I thought it might be best to load up on some supplies!"

"Gotcha," Chris replied with a nod, another question already prepared in his head. "The way you were heading… sir, are you going to see Professor Elm in New Bark Town?"

"That is a very good guess," the gentleman complemented, "but my path will not take me through New Bark Town." A warm smile spread across his face. "The professor and I are good friends, though."

It took all of Chris' will power not to let his head fall. "Oh, I gotcha. No worries." His plan to get a ride was shot, and so too, he realized at last, was his chance at getting a starter anytime soon. This brief, miraculous alternative had faded quicker than a Smokescreen struck by Whirlwind.

The man must have seen the look in the young speaker's face. His tone softened. "So do you live in Cherrygrove?"

"I have since I was about eight, yeah," Chris answered, mustering what little enthusiasm remained in his voice.

"It's one of my favorite cities," the elder replied. "Not as big as those other port cities like Olivine and Goldenrod, but not as isolated as Azalea or Mahogany Town. It's tough to describe what draws me to it, but it has a good middle ground charm."

Chris shrugged. "I couldn't really tell you what people like about. It's a little boring on the history side of things. No real landmarks to speak of. We have the bay, but three other cities share the same ocean at their coasts."

"You wouldn't want to do too much swimming around the Goldenrod and Olivine docks," the elder replied, waving a hand in front of his nose. "I suppose you're right about the lack of a landmark, but I don't find that to be a real issue. Does every population center need some legendary reason for existing?"

"I guess not. It just adds some intrigue and like a mysterious aura. Gives you the feeling that a Legendary Pokémon might be just around the corner. That's how it felt when we lived in Ecruteak. Now that's a city with some lore."

"So you're a fan of Johto and its many great legends?"

"For sure," Chris answered, excitement momentarily eclipsing disappointment. "Johto and its traditions are a big reason I wanted to start my journey here. I've been counting down the days till I could hit the road and explore all that this awesome region has to offer. It's up there near the top on my list of goals."

"Hm." The man eyed Chris a bit more closely, but chose to remain silent.

Both men let the quiet settle for several long seconds. Traffic

"Well sir," Chris finally spoke, "I don't want to hold you up." He covered his downtrodden heart with a forced grin. "Hope you have good fortune on your trip."

"A pleasure to meet you…" The man, slightly confused by the boy's sudden urge to leave, decided to inquire the young man's name.

"Right, my name's Chris!" The Cherrygrove native extended a hand and the older man shook it.

"Good luck with your journey, Chris. I'm sorry about your bad luck." The man tipped his hat and gave one final wave before starting down a connecting avenue.

"Thank you," came Chris' delayed response. He stood there, letting the morning breeze whip his coattails and press the jacket collar against his neck. Slow, soul-wrenching steps pulled him away from Route 29. Well, what now? He pondered. I won't achieve anything if I can't even get my first Pokémon. He could hear the sound of traffic picking up in the back of his subconscious.

It took several seconds for Chris to realize that something was casting a shadow over him.

"Woah!" He looked up just in time to see a large bird swoop low, barely missing the top of his head. Strong tail winds nearly knocked him to the ground. He took a couple steps back when he noticed that the Pokémon had landed only a few feet away. His eyes widened when they'd identified the species. "Don't see many Pidgeot around Cherrygrove." According to the trainer logs he'd read, Pidgeot usually sought food on less traveled routes. The Normal/Flying-type flew at high altitudes and relied on their Keen Eye Ability to spot prey rummaging among the trees and grass.

Chris took a hesitant step forward, fully aware that an adult Pidgeot could rip him to shreds if provoked. "Is it okay if I pet you?" he asked the Bird Pokémon, taking another small step forward. The creature ignored him altogether and began rubbing its beak across its feathers. Looking closely, he noticed a collar of some kind around the bird's neck. The buckle gleamed in the sunlight, revealing an inscription with just the word, 'Pokémon'.

"This is awesome," Chris breathed, shaking his head in amazement. "I wonder who this guy belongs—"

The Bird Pokémon suddenly extended out its wings and, before Chris could move, had the back of his jacket in its talons.

"Hey, hold on!"

Pidgeot shot into the sky, carrying the young man with him as though he were a doomed Ekans. As the Bird Pokémon climbed higher, the streets beneath it shrunk into thin, interconnected lines. Chris took one look down and clenched every muscle from temple to toe. He shut his eyes against the wind. The cold air felt like a block of ice pressed against his forehead. He hung there, eyes shut, teeth gritted, with his arms reaching over his shoulders to latch on to the feet of his transportation. He wasn't sure how long Pidgeot carried him. Though he never chanced a peak, the icy wind against his eyelids provided him with an assurance of deadly elevation and speed. The gusts brought on a dull, pounding headache worse than any he'd ever felt. With Pidgeot's well known speed, the young man could only imagine how fast they must be traveling.

That brought the would-be trainer's thoughts to their current destination. Chris was reminded of New Bark Town... and of his goals. "I don't care how powerful you are!" he yelled into the howling gusts. "I need to get my first Pokémon today! So I'm going to need you to set me down!" He received no response, though the high altitude wind must have made his demand sound like a whimper. "Alright, then I'll make you land!" He tightened his grip on the bird's feet and began to shake violently. The Normal/Flying-type gave an annoyed cry and shook its entire body. Chris felt his grip slip and his bowels nearly released in response. The Cherrygrove native forced his eyes open, and felt a wave of relief at the sight of the ground only a couple hundred feet below. He scanned the wooded area, but found no buildings immediately below them. He turned his sight toward the horizon, the warmth of the morning sun finally washing over him. He tilted his head to shield his eyes from the blinding light and opened his senses toward their upcoming flight path. The gleam of glass. The faint roar of a truck. A thin cloud of smoke pouring from a brick home. He felt some level of relief at the signs of civilization.

"Please drop me off at this town and I'll stop shaking," he said. Chris figured civilization would give him an opportunity to phone for aid and establish where in the heck this creature had brought him. The Pokémon simply nodded and continued dropping in altitude. As the town came into better focus, its tiny presence became immediately apparent; a few homes and businesses were all he could see.

"Here we go!" Chris heard himself shout as the Bird Pokémon weaved between the tops of the trees. He could see some sort of high tech facility rising above the trees before him and he realized that this would be his destination. The last of the trees passed by and human and Pokémon found themselves in the open. Pidgeot had descended to no more than eight feet above the ground when he suddenly released his grip on Chris. The young man looked up, but found only the distant clouds. His head jerked back down, there was a flash of green, and then a series of loud snaps as his satchel, and then back, smashed onto a wide collection of branches.

He lay there for a long moment, catching his breath, and waiting for the sound of his pounding heart to fade from his ears. He twisted his neck and identified a thicket containing Chesto berries to be the cushion for his landing.

"That bird had better hope we don't meet again," he muttered, inching back to his feet. He dusted himself off and tried to gather his bearings. The quaint town seemed even smaller from the ground. A long stretch of water sat in the distance. It looked to be a large, natural lake by Chris' guess. "This seems familiar. I could have sworn I've seen a picture of this place rec—" Memories came flooding back from a late night research session only two days prior. He'd looked over several old and new pictures of the nearest town—the hub that housed his future starter Pokémon. He spun around to examine the sprawling facility behind him and it all hit at once. The creature had brought him to New Bark Town. This...this was Elm Research Laboratory. All his animosity toward Pidgeot faded instantly. He took off at a dead sprint toward the nearest entrance, nearly tripping over his own two feet as his shoelaces snapped free from the thicket's hungry branches.

As he reached the doors, he heard a hissing sound and turned back toward the street. A bus had just come to a stop, an all-too-familiar red and white sign on its side. Chris hurried through the sliding doors. His first Pokémon would come from inside this building, marking the first true step in his journey.

The trainer-to-be had never seen such a high tech facility in person. Machines were scattered everywhere, their monitors running and displaying every kind of test imaginable. The sound of footsteps brought his attention to an approaching man in a grey lab jacket.

"Are you here for your first Pokémon?" his tired voice asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Then follow me." The man led him into a nearby hallway and through another room. He tilted his head to the side to catch another glimpse of the visitor. "You are the first trainer of the day, but I can sense that you aren't from New Bark Town, are you?"

"Cherrygrove City, sir."

The man nodded and ran a hand over his bald scalp. "It''s sad our first couldn't be from New Bark, but I shouldn't be unrealistic. There haven't been any new local trainers in years. I know it's a small town, but you'd think the law of averages would favor at least one trainer every couple of years. It's almost like—"

Chris tuned out the rambling scientist as they entered a massive, two story room. A vaulted ceiling hung high overhead, housing a row of windows around it's entire base, as well as a barred walkway just beneath that. Pictures and paintings of various Pokémon, technology, and landmarks seemed hung haphazardly, while others merely leaned against the intersection of the wall and floor. Ancient looking bookshelves stood scattered around the room, towering over anything in their immediate presence. The scientist led him toward the heart of the room, their progress only slowed by the sheer amount of gadgets that lay abandoned in their path. As they drew closer, a tall machine in the center drew the entirety of Chris' focus. Three red and white spheres lay on a translucent panel halfway up the device. His heart pounced into his throat.

Clearing a cluster of egg incubators, Chris found the machine in full view, but found his gaze had dropped to study a man lying underneath it. The top half of his body remained obscured beneath the metallic paneling, but he wore a standard white lab coat and dress slacks. "Professor, what are you doing?" The man beside Chris shouted. "The trainers are arriving now!"

The professor quickly slid out, nearly banging the crown of his head as he leapt to his feet. Black splotches of oil, grease, or perhaps a mixture of both, peppered the top of his coat and the edge of each ear. He threw the wrench he'd been clutching behind the nearest bookshelf. "They're here?" He sprinted around the machine, his eyes darting between each Poké Ball. "Everything is ready... stay calm..." The professor paced back and forth, mumbling to himself for several long seconds before he noticed Chris. "Oh, uh, hello!" The man added an unconvincing authoritative tone to his voice. He adjusted his thin-framed glasses. "My name is Professor Elm. What brings you here young man?"

"H-hello professor. My name is Chris... and I'm here to receive my first Pokémon."

He physically jumped back when Elm gave a startled cry. "You're a trainer?" Elm let out a heavy sigh, adjusting his spectacles with one hand and massaging his forehead with the other. "So much for professionalism. How about, uh, we get you your first Pokémon?"

"Yeah!" Chris could barely contain himself as the professor guided him to what appeared to be the front of the machine. As the new trainer stepped before it, a small beep issued out, and three images were projected down from the paneling above the opening. Each image hovered above a Poké Ball, displaying the creature inside.

"Your choices are Chikorita the Grass-type, Cyndaquil the Fire-type, or Totodile the Water-type." The Professor nodded at all three and continued, "Each Pokémon holds a strength and weakness with its companions. Don't, uh, feel rushed to make a decision."

"They're all awesome," Chris breathed as he took time to study each Pokémon. He had seen each creature's full potential revealed by trainers from the past. There had been Mitsuyo from Mahogany Town, who had won the Silver Conference and gone on to nearly defeat Will of the Elite Four. Her Meganium had led the way, sealing her the Johto League championship, and wiping out two of Will's teammates before his Jynx could take it down. Who could forget Ethan "Gold" and his iconic Typhlosion? The duo had won the Silver Conference, defeated the Elite Four, and even dethroned the current champion, Lance. He'd won over Chris with his tour of Kanto that followed. The young trainer's victories over Kanto's Gym Leaders had only reinforced the power of Johto. And then there had been his brother. Matt and his Feraligatr. "All of them would make for great comrades, but I made up my mind a long time ago. My favorite Pokémon hasn't changed." Chris reached inside and grabbed one of the capture devices. Tossing the Poké Ball high into the air, he exclaimed, "I choose you!"

A bright white light filled the room as the Pokémon materialized out of the ball and landed softly on the ground. The echidna-like creature let out a cry as flames burst from his back.

"It never could have been anyone else," Chris added as his new Pokémon pounced onto his shoulder. The flaming echidna met his gaze. As he stared at Chris, the new trainer felt Cyndaquil's body radiate with a stifling heat. Chris gave him a nod. "There's a long road ahead of us, buddy. I bet you can sense it as well. We'll need to stick together to reach the end." He smiled at his first Pokémon. "And you can be sure, I'll have your back the whole way. That's the sign of a real friend."

The Professor studied them for a moment before speaking again, "You have the right attitude for the Pokémon you picked. This little guy can be a bit, uh, intense."

"What do you mean, professor?"

The professor waved off his question and let out a nervous chuckle. "Don't worry about it. He will be a great partner! Now," the professor added, pointing towards Chris' PokéGear, "I'll give you my, uh, contact number just in case you ever need my expertise."

"Thank you," Chris replied, tossing his PokéGear to Elm. As the Pokémon expert typed away at one of the many computers in the room, the weight of the moment began to sink in. It all seemed so surreal. Some of his earliest memories had involved playing out this very same process. Back then, he'd used three rocks from his backyard to represent the Poké Balls. His brother had played the role of Professor Elm. It was one of the few memories he had of his old house in Ecruteak City. A small part of him still wished he could go back to those days. He wouldn't mind visiting a time without separation and uncertainty. But now, as he stared into the narrowed eyes of his starter Pokémon, he realized that time moved forward for a reason. New opportunities arrived with each passing day. Today had brought him just such an opportunity. In the coming days, he'd have the chance to revisit the sacred city and stand beneath the shadow of the tower once more.

"All finished!" The professor announced. He stepped back over and handed the PokéGear to its owner. "That should do it!"

"Sir," a scientist nearby mumbled quietly, catching the Professor's attention, "the Pokédex…"

"Oh, right!" Elm nervously scratched his head as Chris looked on in bewilderment. "Now to, um, officially register you as a Pokémon trainer!"

Chris was led into an adjacent room by the professor. He flicked the lights on and directed Chris to a large computer.

"May I see your ID please?" The professor took the information card from Chris' hand.

Elm jumped backward, knocking over a nearby table, and sending Chris tottering off balance as well.

"I had no idea you were Matt's brother!" Professor Elm quickly exclaimed.

"Oh… yeah, I am."

"I may not be able to place a name with a face half as well as Samuel Oak," Elm brought a finger to his temple, "but I never forget brilliant trainers like your brother. I remember being so excited to see a local trainer make it so high up the ranks. He had a drive to succeed that not many boys his age possessed. There was a piston behind those blue eyes that never stopped pounding." Elm paused to look into Chris' own. "Your eyes seem different."

Chris tried to play off the remark. "He got my dad's eye color, but my mom's structure. I'm the reverse."

"Maybe that's what it is," Elm acknowledged, though there wasn't a great deal of conviction in his voice. "He would contact me after every badge. Invited me to the Silver Conference to watch him compete. It's been too long since I've heard from him..."

A wave of anxiety crashed over Chris. He felt the grief tugging him toward a downward spiral. He fought against it, but a burning anger began to fester, aided by his own trepidation to quell it. He felt eyes staring into his own, but found that the professor had turned his gaze to the floor. Chris tilted his head to the right and his eyes locked onto Cyndaquil's. The Fire-type's narrow gaze gave his trainer very little to read, instead, reflecting the young man's own feelings back onto him. As Cyndaquil's unflinching stare held on him, the intense wave slowly subsided. He closed his eyes and let out a quiet, drawn out sigh. He stayed silent as Elm finished inputting the last of his information.

After several seconds of typing, an enlarged picture of Chris appeared on screen. A low humming noise issued out from beside the monitor. The sound of something scanning drew his attention to a printer shaped object nearby.

"We used to have trainers register at our Pokémon Center, but I found that to be a bit too tedious," Elm explained as he finished typing. "I figured, why not register the same place you get your Pokémon?"

"Right," Chris quickly agreed. He appreciated the levity the professor's enthusiasm had brought.

"And here is your Pokédex," Elm informed the trainer as a thin, rectangular object slid out of the machine. The professor flipped open the red device and handed it to Chris. "As I'm sure you know, a Pokédex is a Pokémon information database. It will also serve as your trainer ID so make sure to never, uh, lose it!" Elm grabbed a book off a stack nearby and placed it in the trainer's other hand. "That is the Johto League Guide Book. It will have all the rules and information you will need to know! Don't lose that either!"

Cyndaquil, who had remained silent throughout the entire process, jumped down from Chris' shoulder and dashed over to a corner of the room.

The trainer quickly caught up with his teammate. The Fire-type had stopped in front of a picture tucked away on a back wall. "What's up, Cyndaquil?"

He followed his starter's gaze to the picture. It looked like it had been taken just outside the laboratory. Two people stood side by side. One man, whom he quickly identified as Professor Elm, had his arm around a boy wearing a backwards ball cap. A championship trophy in the boy's hands immediately grabbed Chris' attention. Without turning to look back over his shoulder, he asked, "Professor, who is this?"

Elm made his way over to stand beside Chris. He stared at the picture for several seconds before finally answering. "That's the greatest trainer I've ever had the privilege of meeting. This picture was taken about eight years ago. I think he was, uh, twelve when this was taken, so that's probably why you don't recognize him. He is a League Champion and was once the Leader of the Elite Four. I know him as Ethan, but he's earned quite an alias over the years as 'Gold'."

Chris gave the picture an incredulous look."I know who Gold is!" He marveled at the boy's innocent, youthful appearance. This had been the legendary trainer who had worked with Lance to eradicate Team Rocket once and for all. This had been the challenger Ho-oh and deemed worthy to battle. This was the man whose Typhlosion and forever decided the manner in which Chris would start his journey. "He did so much… at such a young age."

"Never put a limit on yourself," Elm began, a grin inching on to his feet, "and you'll be able to accomplish whatever you put your mind to."

Footsteps caught the attention of both men as one of Elm's assistants entered the room. "The trainers are waiting outside, sir." Chris could detect a bit of irritation in the man's voice and realized he had overstayed his welcome.

He extended a hand toward Elm. "Thank you for kindness." Cyndaquil jumped back onto his shoulder. "And thanks for this little guy as well!"

"These are always my favorite days of the year," Elm replied and shook his hand. He added, somewhat hesitantly, "And it's always neat to work with the relative of a great trainer like your brother. I'll be rooting for you!

Chris nodded silently, keeping a smile on his face. He could sense the genuineness in the professor's words and latched on to them. The journey would be grueling and full of uncertainty, but with allies at his side like Elm and the starter on his shoulder, he would never feel alone.

"I'll see ya later, professor." Chris nodded at him one final time before making his way toward a nearby exit.

"If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to, uh, call!"

Chris gave one final wave before heading outside.


Writer's note: Edited as of May 30, 2018.