PRELUDE

Shikaakwa (2097)

With the dying end of a cigarette wedged between two gloved fingers, the man watched down on the bustle of city life. As vibrant as the flames of Prometheus, lights flashing and the sounds of human vitality. The laughter of children and the vivid chatter of young lovers. His city was alive that night. Alive and under his vigilant watch.

His hands were heavy with the iron rings that encased them. Weights that he refused to remove, not even for a moment's rest. Never since that loss. He swore to become better, to become strong enough to carry the sky on his shoulders. His waist, six bright capsules of red and silver. An impeccably tailored suit, cut to consider the most minute detail. Even an astute observer would see no flaw, no mistake in the image he crafted so carefully.

Come the morning, he would begin his plan. The unravelling of a thread wound tightly across the globe. Chaos, organised to the last quark, unleashed at his discretion. Chaos in a bottle. A condensed constellation, ever on the verge of implosion. In wait of the right spark, a match to warm the coldest of nights. Humanity on the brink of annihilation, seventy-four years ago December. Yet as certain as dusk is the brighter dawn. Night then day. Black and white. Civilisation persevered, thrived, in fact. All that toppled down was built up, better and greater than before. As the French Vingt-Trois author Gabriel d'Espinosa once wrote: "Rebirth from the ashes of giants. Marrow of the soil, thrive the new champions."

He lit up another cigarette, flicking the other one into the marble ashtray. Breathing in the intoxicating fumes, he let out a sigh. Another glass of whisky, a toast to the future. He was getting old, far older than his mother when she passed away. This endeavour was for her. One last dance before his own life would burn out. He raised the glass to the sky.

"A noi, mama."

START Chapter 1 : Une Dernière Danse

New Seattle, Pacifica (2097)

My own day of rebirth came on a brisk January morning. Lacing up my brand new combat boots, dark brown and padded in the soles, there was nothing further to speak of nor really anyone to speak with. A quiet house. My parents were away at some conference overseas. Nothing was there to mark this day as anything remarkable. The day I turned sixteen. The day that my journey would begin. I knew that if nobody else cared, I would cherish these first steps enough for the rest of the world. When I was all set to go, I checked the time to make sure I wouldn't miss my appointment.

Danse, Darling. Engraved onto my wristwatch. An antique old thing that belonged to my mother, to her mother, however many generations ago my family moved to this country. We moved here back when everything wasn't so clear cut. When any waking day spelled new disasters, new tragedies. New catastrophes.

My name is Katerina Harris. At least, that's my government name. Not to sound like a forum-lurker, most everyone my whole life has called me Reyna. Less pompous than a sack of truffles buttered in a caviar spread. Reyna Harris, the professors' kid.

I took the transit down to Midtown Centre, rummaging through my travel things on the off chance I had missed anything. Since it was just past six, most of the commuters were in their business suits, stockbrokers or lawyers or whatever it is that people do that early in the morning. Everyone had a droopy sort of feature to them, likely due to long hours stuck to a desk. Yet even with the dreary crowd, I got more than a few smiles of recognition. Not of me, no. Of the bright red strap attached to my chest. [TRAINER (INITIATE)]. A row of red and silver capsules, carefully clipped to my belt with a magnetic hook. Maybe even the stupid grin that I caught a glimpse of in the window's reflection. Little Miss Reyna Harris. On her very own Pokemon journey at last.

Once I stepped off the train, it was a short walk to the Centre. Its neon signs and corny looking hospital theme had me giddy as I pushed through the glass doors. As expected, the reception desk was packed with folks around my age, vying for the attending physician's attention. Dr. Joyce winked at me as she waved me past the crowd, towards the registrar. A sweet lady who had overseen several of my trainer examinations. She was a brutal grader, I recalled.

"I'm here for my seven o'clock appointment!" I said to the man at the desk. Mr. Yoni. He was in charge of issuing all official documents. As were most of the people at the Centre, also a friend of my parents. "Harris, Katerina."

"I'm well aware of who you are, Reyna," Mr. Yoni said, rolling his eyes. From a drawer, he removed a rather beefy brown envelope, complete with the official seal of Pacifica. "Your documents, Ms. Harris." He gave me a little smile. With a small pen knife, I broke the seal and skimmed through all the paperwork. Frankly, it seemed like a small bureaucratic oversight to just hand these to a teenager. "Your parents have also been sent a copy." I stood corrected.

"Have you talked to them lately? Mom and Dad," I asked.

Mr. Yoni's smile faltered. Which was all the response I needed, really. "No, they signed off on your papers last week. From Nairobi, in fact. Government business. You know how it is, Reyna."

Indeed I did know how it is. Microwave lunches since I was eleven. Teaching myself how to brush my own hair, to buy my own clothes off the Net, to doze off in front of the television every single night. That's what having two important parents meant to me. A ballad of broken promises. Missed birthdays and graduations. Goddamn depressing, that's what it was.

"Whatever. It's fine. When do I get my happy drugs?" I asked, causing the man to nearly spit out his yerba mate. "The Pokemon LSD, or whatever you call it."

"You most absolutely will not refer to our medicine as Pokemon LSD, young lady. In fact, I have all the right to rescind your documentation right now and send you right back to school. Kelly, was it? Your homeroom teacher."

"Jeanne, actually. Kelly got fired for gross public indecency."

"Was that the-"

"Yes, the Bainbridge Centre Lobby incident."

"With the-"

"Yes, with the baltoy."

"Dear Lord, you poor child. Anyways, you'll be administered your dose as soon as we can get you to the Enclosure. I'm waiting for one more morning appointment, then taking the both of you there myself. Go keep yourself busy with homework or something over in the corner." He waved me off. As it had been an entire three months since I was ever done with formal schooling, I gathered up whatever dignity I could muster whilst sitting cross-legged in front of children's colouring books. If I ever became a rich and famous Trainer, I vowed to stock the Midtown Centre with at least a couple backlog issues of Vogue: Silver League. Maybe even National Dex, the leading magazine on all things Pokemon.

On the Centre's television, last year's rerun of the Pacifica League was playing with yet another 'professional' commentator sputtering nonsense into the microphone. I normally didn't care to watch the League, not wanting to box myself into the whole competitive battling scene before starting my own journey. Except last year was special. My parents had gotten me tickets to see the finals with a friend, expensive ones too. Box seats. Except for the embarrassing fact that I didn't care much for anyone at school enough to share that experience, the entire birthday was magical. I pawned off one of the seats to a scalper online, buying myself a sick Champion Matsu brown leather jacket. It was one of the few personal items I brought with me, travelling light as I was. I'd hoped to get it signed after the battle, except he disappeared as soon as he defeated his last challenger. For an old guy, he could move pretty damn fast when he wanted.

I shrugged my bag off onto the floor. It fell with a thud, which meant I probably could have done with less crap for the road. From there, I pulled on my jacket, tying my hair back out of my face to loosen the hoodie. After ten gruelling minutes of flipping through my field book, Mr. Yoni finally called my back to the desk. A boy around my age was nervously tapping his fingers against his chin. I gave him a smile, the warm kind. "Hey. I'm Reyna."

"Brooklyn. I'm Brooklyn. Nice to meet you," he said, offering his hand. I gave it a gentle squeeze, before looking back to Mr. Yoni for further instructions. In his hands, he held two small vials and a bag of syringes.

"If the two of you will follow me to the back. Dr. Joyce is off her shift in a few moments. She'll be administering your first doses via injection. After this, the two of you will be prescribed a steady regimen of vitamins until your next dose in six months. Both of you have taken Trainer's Ed. with me. You know what this procedure is for. Reyna?"

"Pokemon STD meds? I hear zubatitis is a rat bastard."

"Young lady, I swear-"

"Our shots are a drug called PKR-1. It's supposed to help us with choosing a starter Pokemon, one that's just right for us. Enhances our body's natural healing process as well as immunities to common illnesses too. Known colloquially as the Rite of Passage," Brooklyn chimed in as Mr. Yoni's face was starting to turn a few shades purple. "Being around Pokemon helps boost vitality and general longevity. Mankind's lifespan has almost doubled since their emergence."

"And the vitamins? What are they for?"

"The X Series. Meant to steady our metabolisms as we bond with our Pokemon partners. We grow closer to them, can handle more wear and tear to our own bodies, and they help prevent the natural deterioration that comes with age," I said. "Now for the important question. Are they at least cherry flavoured?"

So the rest of the trip to the Enclosure was filled with Mr. Yoni asking us questions while Brooklyn tried not to die from secondhand embarrassment as I clowned my way through them. If the fact that neither of them got an aneurysm was anything, I certainly livened up the journey. Before too long, we passed by a gate for the old Seattle zoo. Into the Enclosure.

Every city, every circuit runs their novice trainer programme a bit differently. Without excessive government regulation, states have been given more or less free reign. Me and a batch of twenty or something other kids went for the route of Trainer School, an evening programme for the slightly more well-to-do families. Complete with field trips to the Enclosure and personalised fitness sessions at the Aurora Centre, it was the most convenient pathway to becoming a trainer in the District of Pacifica. Fairly expensive. Think suburban white picket fence. Kat Stratford meets Elizabeth Bennet type deal.

The Enclosure, our destination, was one of the largest government-run facilities for the care and distribution of starter Pokemon. With probably the greatest selection in the entire continent, minus the main branch in the Northeast. We pulled up to the building, a sleek beauty made of black reinforced glass and silvery steel beams. As graduates of Trainer School, we were able to get in a private session before the official opening hours. Just a tad bit shady, but that's bureaucracy for you.

"So you'll just close your eyes… and… there you go," Dr. Joyce said, removing the needle from my neck. "I don't have to tell you to drink enough water. You'll be feeling some dryness in your mouth for the next few days. Give me a call if you feel any dizziness."

"You make me sway, Dr. Joyce," I said. She gave me a funny, slightly patronising look, before jabbing Brooklyn with his own dose. We stretched our necks, trying to put on a tough front in front of the grown-ups, all while Mr. Yoni talked to the security staff.

"-need to count again. You pick up your phone and you call me when you find out who it was. Mayor Tran will have my head on a spike if this leaks before April. A break-in, in the middle of broad daylight. Am I the only one that finds this ridiculous?"

"Uh, Victor?" Joyce interrupted. "We're finished with the injections. I'm afraid they need me back at the Centre. Will you be good, sending these two off without me?" At Mr. Yoni's nod, the physician gave me a small hug before packing up her large brown suitcase and rushing out.

"Right, trainers. I apologise for the slight detour. We'll be heading to the starter selection chambers. Remember, there is no touching of any kind once we pass through the quarantine line. Baby Pokemon are easily impressionable, kept in a closely monitored and highly controlled environment. We don't want to cause these nice people undue trouble, no?"

"No, sir," we chanted almost in unison. Mr. Yoni brushed his ID against the keypad, pulling open a rather heavy looking steel door. Inside there were rows and rows of monitors, showing camera footage of the pens or complicated looking diagnostic screens. All of them except for one. An empty cell, all the instruments strewn across the ground. A broken door. As if its inhabitant was hastily taken away somewhere else.

"A situation in development. Rest assured, it's only one starter out of a possible seven that we've selected specifically for you two. I'm sure you want to meet them as soon as possible. Here are the special capsules that the New Seattle municipal government prepared for you guys. Compatibility sensors already implanted. You just need to hold the button for a few seconds while the biometric scan works its magic. That comes later though, you two want to step into the containment zone now," Mr. Yoni said, gesturing towards yet another door.

As Brooklyn was starting to look a bit faint with nerves, I offered to go first. Mr. Yoni entered a few keys, scanning his palm print to let me inside. This next room was designed to be a nursery of sorts, with various pieces of babyproof playground equipment. Someone had put up a cheesy 'WELCOME!" banner up on the wall with a few footprints printed onto the sides. The door shut behind me and I could hear a smaller hatch opening up in the room.

First a pause. Then the skittering of tiny footsteps. With a whip and a flourish, the first of the contenders made their appearance. Tiny, bobbing, uneven and unstable footsteps. As though legs came second nature to this critter. A piplup, bobbing its disproportionate head in haste.

'Preeeeeee!' it cried out, flapping its arms. Bubbles spewed out, small and large, popping in the air. The baby penguin blinked, as if confused by its own actions. Now I knew that I wasn't exactly the sharpest cookie in the drawer. It seemed that this bird was of similar temperament. 'Pree! Preee!' If cuteness could kill, this thing could be wanted for triple homicide across state lines. Actually, pause. It might be wanted for actual triple homicide. I knew I couldn't trust those beady little eyes. So Piplup was not the right partner for me. The spark just wasn't there. I gave a small shake of my head and turned away.

Thump. Thump. The next set of footsteps started up as soon as the piplup disappeared from sight. Heavy, definitely a lot bigger than the water type. A small pale blue pile of rocks lurched out of the hatch. With a rough exterior, bands of a leathery substance, two glowing yellow eye slits, this was a golett. Instead of a cry, it hummed a greeting while spinning its hands. Freaking adorable. I almost reached out to pat it on the head before a voice blared through the speakers: "BZZZT. There's a time and place for everything. Not now!"

Thanks Mr. Yoni. Sadly, there wasn't a spark here either. I admired it, true. I just couldn't imagine the golett being my first ever partner for my journey. So I sadly waved the little ghost goodbye as it backstep moonwalked out of the room. The few cracks on the ground were of some reassurance that my decision was the right one. Both for me and my dad's garden. His tulips would not have survived this hurdle.

Another pair of footsteps, much lighter than golett. A slight bounce in the steps, like an amateur fighter in their first bout in the ring. I could feel it, a thrum in my chest, the sound of war drums beating. Echoing. A flicker of warmth on the verge of an insurmountable eruption, even before we locked eyes. My starter and I. The spotlight was on him, my first partner. With his cracked skin and shabby looking helmet, scales covering his knees and elbows. A club made of bone, in his hands a weapon of limitless potential. Cubone. I knelt down to see him closer.

"BZZZT. There's a time and-"

"That time is now. The place is here," I said, cutting off Mr. Yoni. "Cubone, will you be my partner?" I asked. For the first time, I felt a seed of doubt. I knew that he was the right one for me. Would he feel the same?

"God, could you be more melodramatic?" I heard Yoni grumble into his still-on microphone. A good point. I would find out on my own time.

Cubone peered back into my eyes, as though in deep thought. As amazing as I imagined myself to be, I was still just a kid after all. Cubone are known for their fierce loyalty, almost to a tragic fault. Would I have what it took to bring him to his fullest potential? In the moment that our eyes locked, the battle of wills began in earnest. Him, silent as a grave. My heart thumping wildly, threatening to burst out of its cage. My ribcage, to be precise. Then, ever so gently, he gave me a nod of acceptance. We were to venture forth as one team. The most sacred of bonds, that of trainer and Pokemon. The pokeball that Mr. Yoni gave me grew warm in my hands as I pressed it against Cubone's skull. A click. A whirring. A burst of brilliant magenta light that morphed into white, swallowing him whole. Another click. A gentle shaking of the sphere. Once. Twice. Once more.

Click. 'Capture completed. Biometric scan ongoing… [Trainer(Initiate)] Katerina Harris.'

I was now an official Pokemon Trainer. With Cubone as my partner.

"Hey, Mom, Dad. It's me, your kid. You know? Reyna. I swear if I ever find out you named me after Catherine of Aragon, I'm going to put you guys in a home as soon as I legally can. How's Africa? I heard about the tremors around the Sahara Kingdom last week. I hope you guys are okay. Is Kenya anywhere near the Sahara? I should've looked that up. I'll do that as soon as I hang up."

After the whole starter selection process was over, I nearly tripped over myself trying to get out of there. Waving goodbye to Mr. Yoni and promising to call soon, I made my way back to Midtown, then on to Aurora Centre to use the phone without anyone snooping. While it would have been so easy to just head over to the city limits, so incredibly easy, I felt that it was the least I could do to leave a message.

"This is Rocky. I know, I know. Like that old Stallone movie that Dad and I used to watch. I still can't believe he's still the governor of Pennsylvania. For sixty years. Dude's ancient now. He's got himself a new movie deal starring Denzel the Hitmonchan as movie Rocky's great great grandkid. Crazy, right? We should go see it, when you guys come back." I waved Cubone's paw in a greeting. "We're finally off. Just like we talked about back… uh, way back when. I'm gonna try the Pacifica circuit this year, just like Mom did. I'm gonna actually beat it though. And beat Matsu while I'm at it. He's washed up now. Went 2-0 with the last guy to challenge him. And he's the champion, right?" Rocky made a funny noise I suspected was his version of a snort. Already a cheeky little thing. We'd get along like butter and toast.

"New Seattle's gym leader is changing soon. Miss Amelia is handing over the reins next month. I know she's wanted to retire for ages now. Her nephew, Caron, is taking over. He's a bit older than me. Twenty-seven or something. Remember him? I'll probably challenge him in the summer. This is my first year after all. It'll probably take me a few years to actually beat him. Heck, I might go over to the Ole Glory circuit after this. Catch me some swamp Pokemon down in Georgia. Doesn't that sound fun?"

Silence on the other end. A bit of a no-brainer, since this was a video message. It wasn't like I expected them to pick up at four in the morning. It wasn't like they were good at taking calls to begin with.

"I've gotta go. This dude named Brooklyn is offering to split a cab with me down to the city limits. There's a Trainer stop a few miles south. We can walk there before making camp. You're not supposed to go at it alone, not for your first few days right? I'm being a good kid, listening to my parents. I'll ditch him before we reach the old Washington border. Deal?"

Rocky was picking at my jeans, probably because I hadn't actually fed him since I got him. Speaking of which, it was probably a good idea to pick up that food order that Mr. Yoni had placed for me. As in, pick it up before the store closed in half an hour.

"I, uh, I love you guys. You can always reach me by cell. It's, you know, a stupid Trainer tradition to call your parents with these Centre phones before leaving for your journey. Lame, huh. Love you. Uh, seeya."

I pressed the screen to end the call. There was a lot more to say, yet I wasn't the person who needed to say it. So, I figured, there wasn't a point in drowning in sentiments, not when this was the happiest day of my life. Rocky prodded me with his club, signalling that my internal monologue was at an end.

"Alright, I'll feed you. We're heading to Ezell's as soon as we get the Pokemon chow that Yoni wants me to buy you. You haven't had real food yet. We're in for a treat. Greasy fried chicken and a large soda."

I swiped my card through the Centre's checkout machine. Twenty-six bucks for a phone call and a bunch of pills for me and my new partner. Mom's plastic never felt more useful. I'd pay it all back once I had a few badges and an Adidas sponsorship under my belt. Hopefully sooner than later.

Brooklyn was still finishing up his own call, which meant I had time to step over to the store. PokeSmart, where a girl could get all that she could ever need. Everything from shampoo for the scratchiest of fur, to an array of serrated steel blades for all one's Pokemon grooming needs. I grabbed some preserving spray to help care for Cubone's choice of weapon, as well as a few sprayable potions. Baby would get what baby deserved.

"You a new trainer as well?" the cashier asked. "My nephew just got his partner yesterday. Had to go all the way to Sammamish to get what he wanted. Did your mom and dad catch yours for you?"

"Uh, no." I gave him my card. "Got mine from the Enclosure. A few hours ago, actually."

"Oh how nice. We thought about taking Luca there. Always better to reuse and recycle, though. Any Pokemon can be perfectly fine as long as the trainer has their head screwed on straight. Say, how about you meet my nephew? Give you both a chance to try out your partners."

"You mean a battle? I'm pretty sure it's not allowed in city limits. Other than the gym-"

"Private property. Forty-fourth Amendment rights. I've got a little place set up behind the store. There's no harm if it's just two new trainers. Come on, follow me." He placed a hand on my shoulder and ushered me behind the counter to the employee lounge. "Just through here…"

A door led me to a fenced off outside yard. There were a few tires placed around in a poor imitation of an arena. A boy was jotting down notes on a legal pad at a furious pace.

"Luca, my boy. I've got a special gift for you," the cashier said in a sickly sweet voice.

"I'm pretty sure that's considered human trafficking," I said. He shot me a not-so-pleasant look, which I might have actually deserved. "So, kid. You're starting off the same as me. We could be rivals or something?"

The boy, Luca, gave me a once-over and snorted. Like, who even snorts in real life anymore? He stood up from his throne of rubber and removed a pokeball from his belt. "I've been training since way before I got Nekko. Honing my body for the journey in ways that you can't even imagine. Once I'm out of here, I'm not coming home until I've kicked Matsu's ass and pried that golden crown from his corpse. What the hell makes you think you can be my rival?" In a clearly-practised motion, he unleashed the Pokemon from its ball. A poochyena. Its fur was meticulously groomed, silky smooth. Heck, if it weren't for those menacing-looking teeth, I had half a mind to bury my face in it. I still might, I reckoned.

"Wow. Who hurt you, man? Geeze. Also, isn't nekko Japanese for cat? Did you name your hyena Pokemon 'Cat,' like for real?"

He remained silent, his ears just darkening a shade. "Are you going to keep wagging your tongue before I pry it from you?"

"You really need some lessons on pre-game trash talk. Give me your number, I'll text you some links. Really educational material." I unclipped Rocky's pokeball and gave it a once over. Since this wasn't a League-sanctioned match, I had all the reason not to follow through. Joke around, make a splendid exit. Yet the drums were warming up to a lovely beat. A pounding in my heart as blood rushed to all corners. I wanted this. I needed this. A final push from mere Initiate to becoming a real Trainer. "Let's mess 'em up, buddy. I choose you!"

Cubone leapt forward in tandem with my throw. Club raised high and brought down in a swift, mighty motion. Rocky felt my energy, the thrill. He needed this as much as me. So we were in sync. Despite this being our first battle, we'd bear and grin anything they could throw at us. Sweeping a foot in an arc on the uneven ground, my partner took up a stance.

"Start us off with a howl, Nekko!" Luca shouted. "Follow up with a tackle. Keep that thing off-balance!" Poochyena let loose a bone-curdling shriek, sending shivers up my spine. Without missing a beat, it lunged forward and slammed right into Rocky. The two went tumbling. Straight into a tire and rebounding into different heaps of muscle and bone. I felt a tinge of pain in my abdomen. Empathy, or whatever they called the bond between trainer and Pokemon.

"Again! Keep up your momentum."

"Rocky. We're not gonna let them do that are we? Bone club. No wait, sand attack them first. Then bone club!" I shouted.

Using his left, non-dominant foot, Rocky kicked up a cloud of dust and what looked like cigarette ashes straight into the pooch's face. It howled again, in pain this time, which gave my partner plenty of time to ram his club twice. Once into Poochyena's ribs, then a satisfying thwack across the head. Cubone managed to step backwards to avoid a nasty bite, pushing away his opponent with the bone's reach.

"Ice fang!"

Excusez-moi?

Inhaling once, a layer of frost coated the poochyena's lips as it lunged forward. Narrowly avoiding getting caught in the neck, Rocky's left arm was clamped down on by the ice-type attack. A grunt of pain escaped the cubone's throat as he tried to shake off the hyena. He flailed his arm around, even slamming the poochyena repeatedly on the ground. With his club, he finally managed to tear him away.

His arm was throbbing. I could feel the cold seeping through my jacket. The audacity of these, these lunatics. Taking a moment to breathe, I assessed the damages. That's what they teach you at the School. Assess the damages. Plan your counterattack. Keep the momentum in your favour. Take it if you have to.

"Keep your arm moving. Don't let it freeze. Poochyena has nothing for range. We've got the distance. We need to use it! Come on Reyna, use your head…" And as soon as the words left my mouth, Rocky grabbed Nekko and rammed his skull into his face. "... that was a Headbutt. That's good, buddy. Bone club this time, distance! More distance!"

Back and forth, Rocky and the poochyena went at each other with the brute force of two brand-new starter Pokemon. Back and forth. Bone clubs making contact more often, yet each ice fang almost crippling us. Finally, after one last smack upside the head, Poochyena finally went down. It went from a battle to a brawl, yet we came out of it still standing. Once the dust settled, we stood victorious in our first ever Pokemon battle.

"Winner, Cubone," the cashier declared. "Both of you, use these." From his apron, he removed two spray potions, dousing our partners with a good coat of medicine. After a second, he also produced a light blue bottle which he explained was a warming agent called Ice Heal. Useful. "You can make your own if you ever come across a fruit called aspear in the woods."

"Thank you!" I lathered Rocky's arm and different bite marks with the potion. Soon enough, my cubone was looking a lot better. Faint traces of poochyena's attack were left, even those quickly fading as the meds did their magic. "Damn, this is pretty neat."

Luca had already returned his partner, with a neutral expression clouding his face. He fished around his back pocket, flipping open his wallet. A wad of green was clipped together, a PostIt labelled First Loss stuck to the side. "Take it."

"Uhh, no thank you? I'm all good, if you are," I replied. Honestly, it felt more like an insult to rob this poor kid of thirty bucks. "This was a friendly match, to get us warmed up for what's out there. Right?" I looked towards his uncle, who was smiling.

"Fine." He stuck the money back into his jeans. "I'd better be off, then. I need to make it out of the city limits before curfew. You should probably get going as well. We've got like an hour left."

An hour? Shoot! I hurriedly started putting stuff back into my bag. Ezell's could wait for another day, Brooklyn was waiting for me. I dashed out of the store and almost ran straight into the glass doors of the Centre. My travelling companion was anxiously tapping his foot on the ground, being startled by my entrance. "Where were you?"

"Sorry! I was getting some food for my cubone. Were you waiting for long?"

"Forty minutes, dude. Not cool."

"I'm sorry. I'll go get the cab-"

"Already been called. You're paying the wait fee. Now come on."

We jammed our backpacks into the trunk of a rather grumpy looking cab driver. No need to give him any directions, one look at our Trainer Initiate straps and we were cruising south towards the city limits. Thankfully, rush hour traffic was mostly in the other direction. We made it to the tollgate with fifteen minutes to spare. I ended up paying only my half, as Brooklyn 'accidentally' paid first. An angel in human disguise. I could have kissed his curly red hair if that didn't get me sucker punched in the gut.

Just as we entered the line, a League official set up a sign that cut off any further additions to the queue. With the advent of Trainers, traffic to and from major hubs of commerce was heavily regulated after hours. Trains and air travel were more lax with the schedule, since stations had their own means of ensuring traveller safety. Luckily, I would get my traditional Trainer's departure. Walking from the gates of NSEA into the Pacifica Wilderness.

"This is it, Brooklyn. Once we step out these gates, we're officially Pokemon Trainers," I said.

"You said something similar when we got our partners. Just how many times are we officially becoming Pokemon Trainers?" he asked with a wry smile. "We're legit now, Katerina. I'm not going back until I beat them all. Get every single badge in the whole wide world."

"Not if I beat you to it!"

"Is that a challenge?" He raised an eyebrow, fingers twitching towards his Pokeball. For a moment, the air turned frigid as we eyed each other. Like a scene from Fistful of Dollars, except two teenagers with terrifying powers under their control.

Then I started laughing. Which led to him laughing. We were giggling like lunatics by the time the gatekeeper buzzed us through, probably putting us on some government terrorist watch list with our antics.

So our journey would begin.

END Chapter 1 : Une Dernière Danse

A/N: I'm back. Sunday updates. Wish me luck, folks.