Being free from the underground path gave way to freedom, though what wasn't freeing compared to being underneath one or two miles of dirt? Mountains were no longer in sight thanks to the massive tree lines that flanked both sides of the dirt path, grass becoming wilder the closer it got to the bases of the trunks. An almost complete lack of any discerning features would make it easy to get lost if the path weren't a straight shot between two cities—Celadon and Saffron. Both their high rise towers would be visible depending on what half the route you were standing near. The constant hordes of Pidgey swooping underneath the copse of leaves were about the most Kanto thing that Red could think of. It reminded him of back home. It reminded him of Viridian. It reminded everybody in Kanto of their homes because Pidgey were so abundant that they choked out bug-types in every environment outside of the forests.
Being free from the underground path had other perks than just having the ability to breathe fresh air, see other people, have fresh sunlight washing him; Red was also given more stimulation from the tumor that was hanging off his side. Even bird watching was more interesting than hearing the gabbing. The entire tunnel there was a constant echo of questions. They weren't literal echoes. Lane's voice hadn't risen high enough. One of the few mercies, one of the only mercies.
Again, there it came. Red could see the kid's lips twitch upwards, because he knew that the question was annoying and he knew that Red was getting annoyed.
"Hey, hero. Did you get your outfit from a thrift store?" Lane asked.
"I did not," Red said evenly. Insanity, repeating the same conversation down to the exact same word choices.
"Really? I think that I remember seeing your entire outfit at a thrift store once."
"It was a different outfit," Red said.
"I guess it was." For once, the conversation continued. "What even is that? Tiberian? You seriously never got it at a thrift store? That brand is super popular so you can get it for cheap there. Lightly used and only for 30 pokédollars! Give or take."
Red's brain scratched to a halt. The Pidgey froze in the air and clouds stuck to the sky. Thirty pokédollars? It lingered like a bad nightmare. That price was outrageously cheap. Threads with true quality usually had an insane price tag. 'Tiberian: trainer-proofed', producing hardy outfits that would withstand any pokémon attack with their durable materials while being affordable enough that any joe schmo trainer without any sponsorships could survive with them. Thirty pokédollars? Selling a single potion would allow him to buy multiple outfits just in case there were any accidents.
Still, his tormentor had a genuinely curious expression—one that was filled with lies. Now that he'd seen the boy's faces turn from emotion to emotion on the turn of a dime, Red gave him the proper amount of wariness. It was the same procedure one had when dealing with a wild pokémon known for having an aggressive disposition. Cute gestures might've been its lure cast out into the sea of idiot humans who ignored the 'do not touch the wild pokémon' signs.
"It isn't that cheap," Red dismissed.
"You've never been in a thrift store, have you? They sell second-second-hand, so you're getting something that may-may-maybe smell like Meowth pee. You can't beat the price though. I've had to learn how to budget since being on my own," Lane said.
Red pointed to the side of the road. "We're making camp here."
Another issue with being underground was losing any sense of time. The tunnel that they took was used for those who wanted to quickly travel past Saffron—because that's exactly the Kanto way, to dig out a whole tunnel to avoid being accosted by the gate guards and red lights. Walking through that brightly lit path had eaten most of the sunlight and Red wasn't eager to sleep underground. Something about the complete lack of natural lighting, the stale air, and the slight paranoia made it feel like the walls were closing in the more tired that he got. Laying on the soft grass while staring at the stars also reminded him of home, the part of home where his mom would come and urge him to come sleep inside. So going on a journey was somewhat of a rebellion. Take that, mom, he thought to himself.
Their camp was set up in record time. Neither had tents. Both only had sleeping bags and the bare necessities for the field. Red's little portable stove buzzed angrily as it heated up the pot with ingredients chucked in without much care. Lane was content chewing on an energy bar, packed full of ingredients that made it taste like plaster.
Their pokémon spread out to their own sides. Charmeleon regarded the placid Dunsparce warily, who was chewing on a strange mix of green ingredients that were dropped into a bowl by his trainer. It made Red feel a little embarrassed since he just used the generic pokéfood for his own pokémon. Those green leaves had a luster that the brown pellets lacked. It made the bowl look nice enough that even Red was tempted to take a bite. Red was not a weirdo! Brown pellets only invited morbid curiosity, tepid little bites. Those leaves looked healthy enough for a human's salad.
He nearly dropped his bowl when the second pokémon appeared behind Lane. Pink stripes ran down its legs and little scythes that were on the ends of its arms gave conflicting evidence as to whether it was dangerous. Charmeleon let out a little puff of fire into its food in surprise before taking a combative stance in front of his trainer.
Lane didn't even acknowledge the two as a brush came out from his pack, going down the pokémon's body. It trilled in pleasure.
"Where did that come from?" Red asked.
The green tips that were on the top of the pokémon's head were carefully inspected. Each one was flicked, checking a quality that Red couldn't discern.
"You're asking the wrong questions, my friend. What you should be asking is how little Lulu's leaves have gotten this healthy without a proper washing for the past few weeks." He flicked through each of them one more time before hugging the pokémon. "You're the best Lurantis ever! Yes you are!"
Red took out his pokédex. The device beeped a few times before saying that the pokémon was registered. No information was spat out unlike the other times he'd used it. That never happened before, though Red would confess that he was thinking about how awesome fire-types were when the good Professor was lecturing about the mechanics behind the technology.
"This from Johto?" Red asked.
"Which one are you talking about?" Lane asked.
Another pokémon waddled out from behind him. Its green and pink coloration were the only indication that it was the pre-evolution of the larger pokémon. When it collapsed next to its trainer, the thing barely reached above Red's ankles. It looked like a walking bud with little scythes as hands. Giant red eyes glanced up at Red before they looked adoringly at their trainer.
"Hold on, Fomantis. I'll get to you in a second," Lane said.
Deciding that he was done getting his questions evaded, Red just grumbled, "nevermind," before going back to his food.
Despair reached new heights when the two had finally entered Celadon city. On one hand, the amount of wonder that was behind each glass pane and swirly waves above each vent made Red's head spin around like a ballerina. The slightly widened eyes that he wore since first entering the city was his equivalent of gasping at every sight. Buildings that rose past three stories every block gave the place a much denser feeling despite the city being barely bigger than the other places that Red had visited. It felt like the turning streets were infinite as they were guided by signs around the landmarks that the city boasted. Everything combined together to make Red wonder how he'd ever get the full view of the city. It'd take weeks to experience everything!
Then came the other hand, clenched into a fist. The first member of Team Rocket was lounging against a building with a phone to his ear. A single glance towards them made his eyes bulge before he ducked into the nearest door. The next was strolling down the street with bags of groceries piled in his hands. The third was lounging on a bench. More and more ground covered revealed that the grunts were about as ubiquitous as the Rattata scurrying around in the alleyways. Red hardly saw a distinction.
In front of a restaurant was a group of grunts leaving just as the boys were about to enter. One of them noticed, whispered to the others, making the entire group shuffle off with glares thrown at the pair. Red readjusted his cap while Lane pressed his face against the restaurant's glass. All kinds of dishes were splayed on the tables inside.
"There's so many," Red said.
Lane pried his gaze loose. "I know! What do you think you're going to get? Too many options, right?"
Red ignored him, walking into the restaurant.
Waitresses dressed up in poofy outfits scuttled around with trays carrying orders or pressed against their bosoms. Pokémon sat at the feet of their trainers eating their own dishes as casual conversations were carried out on the tables. A bouncy atmosphere made Red temporarily forget about the problems outside of the doors. He took a seat against the wall and let out Charmeleon to join him. The pokémon curled on his feet, content to rest for a moment. From the little attention that was divided away from Team Rocket, the place they decided on was mostly foreign food that he'd never heard of and couldn't pronounce. There was the coward's way out on the bottom of the menu with a few options for sushi.
Unfortunately, Lane took the seat across from him. Wishful thinking allowed Red to imagine that the boy would be so enamored with the food that he'd wander off.
"Stop following me," Red said.
"But then I won't be able to see your heroic trysts, hero," Lane said.
"Stop calling me 'hero'," Red said.
"What else would I call somebody who beats so many Team Rocket bad guys?" Lane asked.
"I've only beaten Team Rocket three times. It's not that impressive," Red said. He did a double-take. "Wait, how do you know that I've beaten Team Rocket? You weren't at Mt. Moon or the other time."
Lane knocked on the table. His pokémon suspiciously dropped down from his back as if they appeared there—a magician's trick. Red was still trying to figure out how that worked. Did they learn how to break out of their balls without making a flash or were there secret pokéballs that were hidden? Charmeleoen shied away from the tiny bulb pokémon that waddled over to it, sniffing the flame on its tail questioningly, while Dunsparce just curled under his trainer's chair.
"You've got to pump yourself up! You have two pokémon, one which is a fire-type, and have beaten a bunch of goons!" Lane leaned forwards, elbows on the table. "So when are you getting another one? Don't think that the grass gym will be easy! I think that you need to train up another pokémon before even thinking of defeating Erika."
"I thought that you were a historian, not a coach. And what about the Team Rocket thing?" Red said.
Lane physically waved that off, schooling his face to look as bored as possible. "History is the greatest coach you can have. Example: history tells us that you're finally getting into the scrub stomping gyms."
Realizing that he wasn't going to get an answer, Red decided to do what he did best: go with the flow and pretend that it didn't bother him. "'Scrub'?"
"Noob. Newbie. Whatever term you want. You're a scrub. Without another pokémon, it'll look like you can't actually juggle a real team. You think that people don't walk into the grass gym thinking that it'll be easy with their fire-type? Psh. Good luck. You'll be another name under her boot. She'll have prepared for people like you. It's honestly a miracle you got a Pikachu so you didn't get stomped at the water gym," Lane said.
Red looked underneath the table. Charmeleon was chasing around his own tail. He would've let Pikachu out too if there wasn't a clear 'No more than three pokémon per table' warning in bold letters at the bottom of the menu. As much as he didn't like Lane, he wasn't going to force the boy's pokémon inside their balls.
A waitress came to take their orders which gave him some time to organize his thoughts. He lightly thumped a fist on his knee, glancing around the restaurant for any Team Rocket grunts. Wouldn't want to advertise that he didn't have a full team to the people that didn't like him. Listening to Lane didn't mean that he valued the boy's opinion. He'd already been having the same doubts.
"What are you suggesting?" Red asked.
Lane splayed his hands out on the table.
"The way I see it, you've got a huge web of options. You got a rod, right? Go fish. There's pokémon outside of the city. Heck, a few of them are inside of it too. You want to know a secret though?" Lane gave conspiratorial glances to the rest of the room before leaning in. "I think that I saw a pokéball just laying in the garbage back at the entrance of town."
Red blinked rapidly, double checking to make sure that nobody heard. "Really?"
"Yeah. It was just laying there, up for grabs."
"That's a crime," Red said bluntly.
"Which part? Throwing away your pokémon or taking it?" He tapped his chin. "I suppose that a good lawyer could get you sued for stealing somebody's pokémon. However, let's present a hypothetical scenario: we get the pokéball, release the pokémon inside so that you can get bonded with it, and then we notify the appropriate authorities. No harm no foul if the pokémon turns out that it likes us and that its owner is a pile of garbage."
"You're shady," Red said.
"Anything for my hero!"
"Stop calling me that."
Their meals came on a platter, impressively balanced by the waitress who came at a hurried pace. Sushi slid across the table in front of the boys and a single bowl was gently placed on the ground. Charmeleon was eating out of the bowl before it even touched the ground.
Red wondered why Lane's pokémon weren't eating anything. After a few moments to consider it, he decided not to ask, which ended up being the right decision because the old man loudly talking behind him said a word that he caught in the milieu of chatter.
"—Team Rocket all over the place! I swear, where are they even going? Being one of the biggest cities in the world has its perks but it gets crazy here sometimes. They could be in one of the buildings, heck, why not the department store? There's plenty of storage that it needs and they could easily set up stuff back there. What about those hidden floors beneath the game corner? Maybe they're real!"
Red's eyes narrowed as he popped another sushi in his mouth.
Lane heard the man too and chuffed. "Pfft. Biggest city, huh?"
That ripped the eavesdropper from his focus. Though annoyed, Red was curious enough that he said, "yeah, one of the biggest. This is a known fact."
"Pfft. Sure. Believe that if you want, Mr. Kanto. Just know that the world is laaarge and you're very smaaaall."
Annoyed, Red didn't respond for the rest of their meal.
When they got back to the streets, he couldn't stop thinking about what-ifs. They were already talking. Some recognized him. They could be the ones to strike first. And unlike the first ambush, there was no way that Red could take on an entire city full of them. Even if Lane pitched in with his own pokémon, Red counted fifteen grunts that were around the city since they'd entered. Even more could be hiding in this mysterious base of theirs.
What if he didn't wait? What if he took preemptive action and struck them before they could make a response? Charmeleon waddled faithfully behind his trainer, a dopey look with its jaw bouncing with each step. On Lane's shoulder, the tiny bulb pokémon had its 'leaves' around its bulb shudder in ecstasy as they walked from the shade into the direct sun. Another group of Team Rocket who were hanging around the outside of the game corner handing out pamphlets secured his opinion. Not even innocuous on the surface. He walked past without a fuss and went back to the city's entrance.
True to Lane's word, there was a pokéball nudged inside a used ramen cup at the top of the can. Red reached in for the ball paying no mind to the sludgy texture affixed to the back of the mechanism. It looked perfectly fine, though there was no indication of a pokémon being inside of it.
"How do you know that there's a pokémon in here?" Red asked.
"I saw it wiggle," Lane said.
"And you didn't bring this up because…"
Lane shrugged, tapping the side of his head. "You've got to let things move along sometimes. Other times, not. Time waits for no man, 'specially one that's stubborn."
Red wasn't even sure if he was being mocked or not with a statement as vague as that, which left behind dull annoyance in his throat. Even still, the ball in his hand wasn't moving. He'd heard that strong pokémon could break out of the pokéball's restraints when they were already captured. Many stories abound about strange circumstances that made a weaker pokémon break out of the ball, generally to save their trainer. Red wasn't certain about how much the pokémon could 'see' in there. If there ever was a moment to escape the pokéball's captivity then it was certainly at the point when its home smelled like rotten fish.
He threw the ball to experiment. To his shock, a streak of lightning flew across the alleyway. It formed into a pokémon who immediately started grooming itself.
"An Eevee!" Red couldn't help from exclaiming.
The pokémon whipped its entire body around as if to shake off the gunk that had coated his home. Wide, unquestioning eyes looked up to the two boys.
"Why're you so shocked?" Lane asked, petting his Fomantis with the back of his finger. The pokémon leaned into his touch. "S'not that surprising."
"Of course it is. These guys are rare." The Eevee glared up at him. "Hm? Oh, girl. These girls are rare."
He kneeled down to get a better look at the pokémon. Her fur wasn't lustrous nor faded. No significant abrasions were anywhere on its body. By all accounts the pokémon left behind in a garbage can was a fully functioning, average Eevee. Not that Red was a nurse. He only helped out at the lab occasionally and learned more about the common species of Kanto rather than their more exotic ones. He brushed behind the pokémon's ears, causing them to flick.
Lane crouched down next to him, squatting until he could nearly nuzzle his nose on hers. "There's lotsa rare pokémon in the world. Ain't it rarer to be a well-trained mon than being any species? Well, that's just my opinion. You gonna catch it?"
Eevee jumped up, yipping at the possibility. Red had to back away so she didn't accidentally bash into his skull.
"The Pokémon Center is right here. We'll see if her owner is anywhere near."
Though she didn't seem too enthused over the possibility of being separated, she still willingly jumped into his proffered arms. Red's masculinity wasn't strong enough to resist the soft fur brushing against his forearms. Leaning down, he rubbed his cheek against her head. The knowing look from Lane didn't even sour his mood.
Pokémon Centers were a ubiquitous presence no matter what part of the region you were, whether that be scenic nowhere or sometimes in the center of routes. Pokémon were ubiquitous, therefore care for them had to be also. Stepping into one would immerse you within a new, comforting world. It was unlike hospitals, in Red's opinion; the universal appearance of them and modern methods of care being near-risk free created a place where problems were solved. He heard from Professor Oak that creating the homely atmosphere was also done by intentionally making them community centers, there being a reserved set of tables for waiting trainers while the others could be used by anybody as long as the center wasn't busy. The same music as anywhere else softly played over their speakers whenever it wasn't being used for an announcement.
Red's pokémon were given to the cheery woman at the desk while Lane handed in his Dunsparce. They spent the next thirty minutes mostly in blissful quiet, or the kind of quiet that Red loved—to just sit back and let the world wash past him. Enthusiastic kids played cards at the table next to them. An Alakazam was doing magic tricks for a small crowd. Somebody was nervously chewing their collar, spitting it out and looking around occasionally before doing it again. Lane groomed his Lurantis while chatting with a man who was doing the same with his Spearow. The few bits that Red listened to were them comparing the strange parts of their own grooming processes that came with their specific pokémon. The man lamented over how delicate clipping the claws were while Lane was spraying his pokémon with a water bottle labeled, "LULU'S, DO NOT USE ANYWHERE ELSE."
When they were called up, Red felt as though a joke was being played on him. By all accounts, her owner didn't exist. The pokéball wasn't even registered as having captured a pokémon. Red held it in slight defeat as the Eevee dutifully ran circles around her new trainer.
It felt like cheating to get a rare pokémon that easily. The entire point of a journey was instilling good values in the kids before they went back to normal society. One of those virtues was being able to cooperate, persuade, and learn how to live with pokémon. All of those were completely glided by when he coincidentally picked up a loose pokémon in the alleyway—one that seemed well-trained too, as it occasionally stopped its frenetic laps to throw a few moves out into the wind. Not only that, there was the smug aura radiating off the boy right next to him. There was no change in expression or mannerisms. Red just knew that at some point it would be brought up.
He took in his team one more time. Eevee would need training for the grass gym. Charmeleon had plenty of practice after the amount of goons and trainers that had besieged him since Lavender Town. Pikachu was a weaker link for many reasons. It seemed that they would be in the city for quite a while, coexisting next to Team Rocket.
"Y'know, I've got a working theory on how Eevee got there. Let's say that Team Rocket is a criminal organization. A lot of their pokémon are probably under the table. Lots of room for them to mess up too," Lane said.
Eevee stopped spinning around for a second when her name was called, before going back to running.
Red's fists clenched. A cool wind came from the direction of the game corner. "There's no reason why a rare pokémon would end up in a garbage can."
"Mistakes happen. Maybe a member felt guilty for it. Maybe a transport failed. Whatevs. Point is that It's a little too coincidental. Criminal organizations so powerful in a city that they can walk around and rare pokémon are left behind in garbage cans? Geeze! You couldn't think of a worse display of wealth if you tried!"
From the shadows, Red could see them. Members tracking their movements through town. Were they even more interested now that they wanted to reclaim their lost property? Or were they keeping track on the trainer who had beaten them back before? The pokémon circling around him didn't speak, just letting off its excess energy by adding a few flips to its routine.
He wanted to train. He wanted to pretend to be a normal trainer. He never heard of his parents getting ambushed by organized criminals when they just wanted to bond with their pokémon. Lane somehow immediately knew where they were going from the first corner that Red turned.
"Here we are! Fighting for justice! Reclaiming what is right!"
"Shut up."
"And talking even when we're being suppressed!"
"Shut up."
They stood on a corner away from the game corner. The Team Rocket grunts were still handing out pamphlets to unaware passerby as people still walked through the sliding doors to wile away their money and time. Red palmed the coin case that he got from a disgruntled man claiming he'd give up gambling forever. It was enough reason for them to let him in really. If there wasn't really a secret base, then they could look somewhere else. If there was, then Red hadn't thought ahead that far ahead.
All the waiting paid off when the group moved away from the building to get drinks—juice boxes. There was nobody around who could stop him at that point. He quickly scurried across the street, constantly checking around to make sure that a Team Rocket grunt wasn't waiting in the bushes. Lane was hot on his heels with the Fomantis still relaxing on his shoulder. They budged down the street through the traffic of people coming out of work, one suit after another, until they entered through the automatic doors.
Front doors acted as portals to other dimensions. This dimension was gaudy, exciting sounds pumping the heart full of adrenaline, music that was tastefully low to allow the machine's to dominate, and so many sights that made a kid go bug-eyed. Country kids unfamiliar in a place that harnessed the power of the sun tended to make the senses go haywire.
A hand grabbed his wrist. Some lady dressed richly raised his arm above his head. The doors slid shut as the motion sensor thought they'd disappeared.
"And what are you doing walking into the game corner, young man?"
"Spending mommy's money!" Lane said.
Red threw a look back in betrayal as the lady gasped. "My word. The charlatan behavior that trainers are allowed to participate in knows no bounds! This is why you shouldn't be allowed to go on a journey without having more time for your parents to instill a true moral compass. Freedom and responsibility are not properly learned if there's no basis of decency to uphold them."
He was dragged down the street as she forcefully took them further away from their objective, Lane dutifully following behind them. Red sourly wondered why he didn't have to be grabbed.
"And corrupting your younger brother. For shame, for shame! The fabric of society is welded together by each and every person's own effort. It's the louts who spend their entire day inside that den of sin who try to upend society even more than the villainous cretins that run the store. We may house a great many of those vagrants and vagabonds who have no proper moral order, but I will not allow another bright light to be dragged down to their level."
Red started actually struggling when he saw their destination: a tea place. Pink frills and Jigglypuff logos were plastered everywhere that they could fit on the tiny building, with women dressed up just as ostentatiously as the woman guiding them. It didn't help that the grip was stronger than even his dad's.
"Stop squirming! You're going to get a real dressing down. What starter did you choose? I bet it was a Charmander. It's always those that go for the fire-types that are the worst with these kinds of vices."
He was dragged into the realm of perfume, pink, and haughty tittering. Worse still was that Lane joined in with the titters.
"Are you really going to hold a grudge?" Lane asked, shrugging. "I thought that it'd be better for us to pretend to be stupid kids rather than stupid kids that wanted to break into there. That way we get chewed out for being stupid kids rather than malicious ones, y'know?"
Red's glaring had no effect on the unrepentant boy. An entire day of beating Team Rocket was wasted due to the lady's continued insistence on them learning proper manners. The two-face was able to play to her trusting nature, leading to Red having to stay even longer to hear about the proper manners one has to carry oneself laced with insults against those who didn't know the correct order of forks. It must be the ability to mock people that made a person smart, Red had to assume. Charlatan, lout, senseless, ruffian, chauvinist, obdurate, blind, tacky, tactless, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. It all became a negative mush that left him feeling as if he liked laws less rather than more.
They had made it back to their position. Across the street was the same undefended game corner. Now that they came much earlier, there were no grunts handing out fliers or people coming out of work to interrupt them. Only a man that was leaning against the building in despair was their company. An empty, unzipped coin pouch sagged on his loose fingers.
They ran across the street once again. Nobody stopped him from colliding face-first with the unopened door.
"Look at that. It opens at nine."
Red tried to ignore the heat that came up to his face as they took up their positions again. It only took an hour when the first employees were coming into the building, letting in a crowd of people that were waiting for the place to open. The mark that the door left receded by the time they walked inside. Lane stuffed a few pokédollars into the destitute man's coin pouch. No reaction.
Inside was a much more tame atmosphere than what the lady suggested (though Red conceded he'd save, "an aura which bent the righteous and brought glory to the wicked," for Hell itself). Instead of a den of sin, vicious tongue-wagging and rapscallions acting on their darkest pleasures, it was just rows of machines that enraptured the people who sat in front of the spinning dials. The fact that none of them were acknowledging the men sitting right beside them was disturbing to Red but not really worthy of a multi-hour lecture. Then again, every time that the levers were spun was another bundle of pokédollars lost in the machine. The happy chimes contrasted the sheer waste of money that he was seeing. All of those potions, pokéballs, pokéfood, being funneled into a giant vat of money, because that's what rich people did in their free time, bathed in money.
Another pair of hands grabbed both of them. One of the attendants had stepped around the counter when they weren't looking, now with a strong grip on their collars. Fomantis nearly rolled off Lane's shoulder in surprise.
"My apologies, but minors aren't allowed to play these games. Give yourselves a decade and we'll loyally accept your patronage!"
"Why can he play?" Lane asked, pointing to a kid about his height at the slot machines.
The kid had mastered the technique since he was pulling two different levers at the same time—failing twice as fast. None of them were matching up. He took a hard break drinking suspiciously-colored apple juice from a crystal glass.
"He has written permission from his parents to patronize the game corner. Do either of you have permission from your parents to patronize the game corner? If not, then I'm going to have to ask you two to leave and patronize us another day."
"Excuse me, miss," Lane asked, raising his hand. "Why do you keep saying that we're going to patronize here?"
The pressure on the back of their shirts increased as she started yanking. "Studies show that if a course of action is strongly suggested, then children are much more likely to follow that action when they grow up, even if it is from a source of authority that they don't like. It's the basis of learning!"
Both their feet weren't helping the woman at all. She dragged two lifeless dolls outside the game corner, all the while none of the gamblers looked up from their screens. Fomantis' pincers ran across the woman's hands as a warning.
"...that's shady," Red said.
The doors whirred open, an entire planet's atmosphere blowing in for a brief moment, before they were thrown out onto their backs. The door closed with the woman's imperious glare disappearing with each inch that the doors crept. Then silence. None of the whirring of slots or cheers from the men at the tables. Those were replaced by the distant sound of Pidgey calling and footsteps from the street. To further the absorptive ability of the machines, even the building was insulated to prevent noises from the outdoors from getting inside.
Red kicked the wall.
"They totally have something going on in there, though it might be just the normal greed stuff," Lane remarked. The pokémon on his shoulder let its limbs splay in content as they were in the sunlight again.
Red nearly beat his fist against the wall before stopping himself. "We're getting in there. There's no doubt that it's run by Team Rocket!"
"Cool, yeah, sure. Why don't we leave before the grunts come and hand out pamphlets again?"
They slinked off into a side street. The same shop that they were tortured inside was next to them, with the prim lady sipping tea outside with other ladies. She gave a delicate wave that Lane returned.
"Does she have anything else to do than drink tea all day?" Lane asked.
"We're getting into that place. Tonight."
"Oh my. The hero has gotten serious!"
Despite the teasing, Lane's leg was bouncing through the last minute training session that Red had his pokémon go through. All of it was extremely light in anticipation for some kind of fight happening. Pikachu warmed up by making doubly sure that he could hit the flying discus (electricity-proofed, or so the salesman said, ran through Red's mind every time he picked up one that warped past usability) accurately. Eevee hadn't been given enough time to do much else than make its tackle as powerful as possible. Charmeleon just did light stretches, comfortable being the strongest one there.
It wasn't as if Red could even focus on making the training session rigorous when he was stressed anyways. Each minute that crawled by was an added pressure against his shoulders. They took a four hour nap when coming back to the Pokémon Center, where Red spent most of the time imagining all of the things that could go wrong while repeating, "this is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy," over and over again in his head. Through some miracle, he hadn't psyched himself out when the alarm rang.
Something close to relief came when stepping outside the Pokémon Center, feeling the cool breeze as night fell. Lane was right behind him without Fomantis out. Red assumed that was the weakest that he had, and was somewhat reassured that even his annoying shadow was taking it seriously. With one last look back into the comforting warmth of the center, he walked ahead.
Nobody was out on the streets. Nobody was in the game corner. It closed at midnight which gave them the time to sleep before the 'operation', as Lane kept calling it. Dumpster to dumpster, phone booth to light pole, every piece of cover was used since Red's instincts said that there was no way that the game corner would be left unguarded if it were truly a Team Rocket base. Their reflections off dimmed windows trailed along as their only companions.
Even without the streetlights in front of it, the chosen color still had it stand out like a beacon among pastel buildings, though the light that glared from the other side of the sliding doors was the exclamation point that made Red's instincts flare. Two shapes stood outside the building before slinking off into the darkness. Flashlight beams flung around the sky like spotlights as the guards left. They gave it a few minutes before running towards the back of the place. A single steel door that read 'Employee's Only' in an angry font was indented into the building, standing out by its simple color in comparison to the place's love for eye-searing colors.
Red tried the door first. It gave. The last length whined in protest.
"Guess they don't rely on the traditional kind of security around here," Lane said, shrugging. "Oh boy. This is going to be awesome! Breaking the law for justice! Like true justice people!"
Inside was a pitch black room. Little could be seen, though an overwhelming scent of plastic that clung to the gray walls. Dark corners that were unseeable, a metallic floor that sapped the warmth through their soles. Cardboard boxes stacked to the ceiling in some places. Red peeked into one of the boxes that were left open. The tokens that the place used were piled up to nearly the brim of it. Another held pokéballs that most likely had the pokémon that they sold as prizes. Yet another had the discs that were used for TMs.
That was the most tempting thing in the entire room. TMs were expensive, and most places didn't even bother stocking them with how specialized the vast majority were. Getting his hands on a free one would bolster his team's capabilities if they were of a move that his pokémon could learn. On closer inspection, the discs weren't labeled. There was a good chance that the move printed on it was useless for his current team.
"You should take one, hero. Stealing from bad guys isn't really stealing at all."
Red shook his head. "We're not sure if they're Team Rocket yet."
"What do you mean? What normal game corner would have," Lane kicked a box that held pokéballs over, letting them spill across the room, "this here?"
That hadn't been luck. Most of the hole had been visible already, with a soft yellow glow that leaked into a fading gradient. Two heads stuck down. A ladder led a good way down before touching down on a tile floor far below. Red glanced up at Lane.
"Go down! I'll fend off whoever comes to investigate," Lane said.
Red really didn't want that to happen. Running into the base by himself was exactly the one fear that made him keep Lane around. It was a good point however. Those people in front could've easily been a patrol of Team Rocket to make sure that nobody was poking their nose around. Anything could happen. A grunt could come back to enter the base and ambush the boys when they're already preoccupied with a fight.
Which meant trusting Lane. Red felt sick.
"Fine."
After all, expecting a betrayal was better than being surprised by an ambush. That was his reasoning and he was sticking with it.
Lane stuck his head over the hole and waved until Red was all the way down; Red never looked up.
Leaning on one of the boxes, he started whistling a tune. All his pokémon were nestled safely in their balls since Lane sincerely believed that nobody was coming; he just made up an excuse because he was lazy. Fomantis don't grow well if they don't get their proper rest and he wanted the young pokémon's coat to have the same luster as his Lulu's. Closing the door erased absolutely any trace that they had broken into the place. He leaned back, trying to relax, until he felt the box give. The cardboard was of poor make and couldn't support his weight, making him lean more against the pile of pokéballs that were inside of it. Always having to shift your weight around as the balls readjusted to your previous adjustment made it into a never-ending quest of finding the perfect balance.
Unfortunately, he wasn't meant to have a lazy night. The rattling door knob was hesitant, as if they were unsure if it was locked, a gentle, "hello?" slipping through. It pulled free like a parent checking if their child was awake, their nose creeping past the door. A familiar shade of green walked inside, a contrite frown on her otherwise cute face that looked unnatural. Her hand searched the wall. A flashbang went off. Every detail of the boxes was revealed, how long the room stretched, the panel on the wall that looked very similar to a silent alarm system. A bold red light blinked on a camera that had a view over the entire room. If Lane was honest, he totally didn't even think about mechanical security measures.
Lane pushed off against the box.
"Welcome to my abode," he said with a small bow.
Erika frowned, walking further in. No pokéballs were visible on her kimono but that didn't mean there weren't any. Lane had spent an immoral amount of time finding little party tricks that could be done with pokéballs.
"I got a call about somebody breaking into the game corner. The police are stretched thin and I offered my help, but I can't say I'm happy actually following through with my promise—especially since it's only you. I was expecting something serious like those Team Rocket fellows breaking in. It's almost a relief that it's only a hooligan."
"Two hooligans, thank you. And it's not breaking and entering! That would be a crime. This isn't a crime. This is justice."
She rolled her eyes. "Of course. Please come and tell me how this is justice once we're outside. Where's your friend?"
Lane's foot tapped on the hole behind him. "Perhaps he's hiding in one of these boxes ready to ambush you. Or he's already escaped from the front. Or he's underneath this suspicious hole that I'm standing in front of. Want to take a guess?"
Erika considered her options. The hole was suspicious, no doubt about that. The game corner always had a group of Team Rocket grunts in front of it, so it wasn't a stretch that they were involved in its operations somehow, and she always found it strange how the building had an addition made to it that seemed disconnected from the front lobby. Without hard evidence, she had to make a blind decision: treat every unknown as a trainer and subdue anyone who resisted on the premises. She'd never had to deal with those circumstances before, but there was a first time for everything.
Her hand reached for the pokéball hidden underneath her sash. One of the first things that you learned while being an elegant gym leader was how to hide your means of defense. Visible pokéballs didn't do any favors for a fashion statement. Funny enough, the boxes were spread out far enough to be League regulation standards for the smallest an arena could be.
"I'm sorry, but I'm going to need you to be escorted off the premises until we have a handle on the situation."
Lane sighed, throwing his head backwards in an exaggerated motion. "Ugh. You picked the boring option. We're supposed to team up and then blow a hole in their base. Now I can't join my hero in vaporizing the place. And I can't really have you go further since you'll interrupt his little hero-fying moment down there."
She didn't even blink. "If I'm understanding you correctly, then you're just giving a convoluted explanation as to why you're fighting?"
"Sure, why not?" Lane said.
He finally withdrew his own pokéball. Despite the circumstances, Erika felt the familiar rush that came with battling. It was an indescribable feeling. It was one of the few things she could never relate to her family. Anybody who'd never been in a tense battle would never understand how her fingers felt electrified pressing against the ball's surface. Reality melted away until only details and figures remained. It was as if her body stopped existing at that moment past the little tingles that ran through her skin, opening past what she was and bringing in the entire world. She brought along her elite pokémon just in case. She couldn't see how many pokéballs were on her opponent. The arena was cluttered, but she'd make do. And her opponent? She broke him down into pieces. Those eyes weren't the same as one who truly loved battling. At a glance, an easy win.
"I hate having to wake up at this time. I'm going to take out my annoyance on you. Take heart! Not many get to see my serious team," she said.
"The honor of annoying your ladyness is much more valuable than seeing your pokemon, my grace," Lane said.
Both of them threw their pokéballs at the same time. A flash! The figure nearly couldn't fit in the room as its vines pressed against the ceiling. It raised its arms to let out a bestial growl. Its eyes, the only visible part of its face, trailed the pokéball that landed on the floor and rolled off to the side.
Nothing happened. Erika tilted her head.
"Oops. Wrong one." Lane pulled out another and threw it. The arc was just too high that it bounced against the ceiling and fell onto the floor, also rolling empty. Then another was thrown too far, hitting Tangrowth's face. It didn't even flinch.
"I'm sorry to say that pokéballs don't work against pokémon that are already caught," Erika said.
"You'd be surprised. I don't know how you guys know which ball is for each pokémon, but—ah. This is the one."
A pokéball was thrown into the air, finally letting loose Lulu. Erika felt her heart skip a beat at the obvious care that went into the pokémon. Its pink stripes nearly glowed underneath the fluorescent light, not to mention the actual sheen that glimmered along its scythes. The pokémon didn't bother waiting for a command, already running towards the mass of vines that was multiple times larger than it. Her body was kept as parallel to the ground as possible with her blades extended out each side.
Massive arms swept for the smaller pokémon, forcing her to dodge when she could. A sweep made it leap, a blow intended for the head had her slide underneath. Lurantis didn't look fazed while she circled around the giant even with all the dodging it had to do. Its bulk didn't make it slower however. The giant had an easy time tracking Lurantis, throwing out its arms even at its blind spots, consistently being accurately aimed. Each time the smaller pokémon tried flanking, it had to be aborted when the Tangrowth twirled around with the ease of an acrobat.
Two arms swung at the same time as if it was trying to hug her. With a leap straight over both limbs, Lurantis' scythes finally glowed as power surged through them. A barrage of strikes made each individual vine that she hit wiggle. The assault was cut short as the vines showed they weren't just for show, unraveling and rebinding around her arm. Lulu barely had a chance to struggle. She was finally struck. A pink blur flew across the room and landed on a stack of boxes. An explosion of pokéballs sent them across the room, littering the entire floor with red and white caltrops. Lane and Erika didn't bother shielding themselves from the few that bounced off their heads, and both regretted looking cool when dust flew into their eyes.
"Lulu! Grassy terrain!"
A floral smell filled the room as translucent images of grass sprouted from the ground.
"Swords dance, Tangrowth."
Lulu took that moment to run out from underneath the boxes, throwing out leaves around the floor to clear the space around its target. Pokéballs flew with the force of a major league pitcher, which finally forced the humans to duck. She slid underneath the first arm that tried lopping her head off and leapt back to her feet. Another barrage of blows hit against the side of the Tangrowth. The assault didn't adapt as she was once again trapped and sent flying. Erika flinched as an explosion of broken TMs rained down.
To Erika's surprise, the pokémon once again jumped out of the pile of cardboard looking as if it wasn't hit at all. It dashed underneath the attack that would've sliced the tinier pokémon in half as it did the same move once again. This time it pulled away in time which gave it the leeway to duck underneath the arms, already going for another barrage.
"Finish it off, Lulu! X-Scissor!"
She jumped back from the hasty vines that shot out from Tangrowth. Crossing her hands together, she leapt straight into the arms that were moving to intercept her. Those long green arms, tensed in preparation, bounced off once touching her blades. Uncrossing them effortlessly sliced through an entire layer of vines, scattering around like confetti. A loud groan of pain came from the Tangrowth as he staggered back
Erika's eyes bulged as her most bulky pokémon had actually been scratched by an attack. Realizing that she had underestimated the trainer because of his goofy behavior, she pulled a second pokéball and threw it on the field. There wasn't time for honor when she was dealing with a crisis.
The squat tree didn't let out a cry as it was set free. All three of its heads were hanging off its branches with grim, focused expressions. A pink aura manifested around Lurantis as she suddenly stopped mid leap. The pokémon let out a surprised cry, vainly struggling against the force that was holding it still.
"Knock off! Get that psychic energy off you!"
Lurantis' blades faintly glowed black, slicing through the aura around her. The space that was behind her blade looked like a jacket unzipping, opening more and more until the aura deposited her like a yolk. She spun around to get rid of all its traces, ducking lower to barely avoid being bisected. Dark trails followed behind her blades as she leapt forwards, just barely able to land a glancing blow while putting herself between the mass of vines and Exeggutor. She landed running, keeping low to the ground as vines smashed the tiles into pieces behind her.
Lane chewed the inside of his cheek as she once again was held by the psychic aura. Even as the black light started emitting from her blades, she was helpless against the giant vine that smashed into her stomach and sent her flying into another set of boxes. The satisfying sound of casino chips filled the area as a geyser of red, black, and white flew into the air.
With an equally dramatic flair for what was the most stupid order he could think of, he yelled, "alright, Lulu. Break open the pokéballs!"
Erika's eyes bulged. There were enough pokéballs to capture everything on a small plot of land. With their sight being blocked, neither of the pokémon could do anything when flashes of light happened behind the boxes that Lurantis landed in.
Four Scyther flew above the debris. Their grim expressions weren't very friendly looking.
Lane's eyes widened in surprise when one of them stared at him. He threw out another pokéball. "Protect me, Dunsparce!"
While her other teammate joined the battle, Lurantis ducked underneath a tower of boxes leaning against another tower to get outside the view of the Scyther. Their wings angrily buzzed from being released, looking for the first thing that they could take their anger out on. One tried to attack Lane and was immediately rewarded with a boulder to the face. The others swirled around Tangrowth in a dizzying pattern that he couldn't properly follow. The only relief was that they focused on Tangrowth, who gracefully took the tiny nicks without complaint. More buzzing made the gym leader's pokemon warily glance back at where Lulu was last seen.
An army of green erupted from behind the boxes, more and more until their beating wings sounded like a hurricane. Exeggutor had to back up to protect its trainer with psychic blasts that swatted the pokémon back. Each attack was able to knock out at least one, though that hardly mattered when pillars of darkness were flitting about the room as the lights were slowly getting blocked off. Lane started backing up to the ladder as Dunsparce desperately tossed boulders. Many squashed bugs were still twitching from their Scyther-shaped craters left behind on the walls.
More flashes came out to the side. Erika whirled around to see a stampede of Nidorino and Nidorans. Unlike the bugs, those pokémon were terrified of the situation and huddled together in a classic position that meant they would attack anything that got near. Those who were loners started prancing around aimlessly, bumping heads against the boxes and walls. The battle was no longer traditional by any means. For every second that she spent holding back, more wild pokémon joined in the menagerie.
Two more pokéballs slid into her hands. Venusaur and Vileplume joined their companions. Neither questioned how the situation got so chaotic. Both of them had trained enough to take out any unnecessary emotions when battle started.
"Venusaur! Use sludge wave. Vileplume! Stop the opponent from breaking anymore pokéballs."
Even as she said that, another group of pokéballs broke open to release angry Dragonairs. These pokémon were dragons—notoriously tempestuous—who had no qualms firing off beams of energy that melted through the foundations of the building. The slot machines on the other side let out dying dings as they were pierced straight through, spilling coins from their veins all over the floor. With each one that was released, the building was being turned into swiss cheese faster. The Nidoran were so scared that they started firing around purple spines. Erika laid down on her belly as projectiles whizzed above.
Lurantis squealed as a ball of poison was launched with terrifying precision right where she was running. Leaping behind a cardboard box had a glob of poison nearly melt straight through it, enough that she felt flecks of sludge splatter against her back. The slight pain didn't take her attention away from the far end of the room, where a massive purple wave was knocking over whatever came in its path. The Nidoran caused a miniature stampede in a desperate attempt to run away from the wave. It didn't matter. They were all swept up, being knocked out and mixing together with the debris of cardboard and plastic. The Dragonair bravely braced themselves against it before being carried off all the same, though many plucky specimens continued firing beams even as they were floating along. The ceiling creaked ominously. Purple overtook wherever the phantom blades of grass were before vaporizing them. Lulu jumped on top of a box tower, then another as that one crumpled into pieces, then another, before leaping to an already sinking ship and falling backwards. At the very last second she was recalled.
Erika looked over. Lane gave a salute and then slid down the ladder as the purple wave ran over the hole.
She wasn't so lucky. She grimaced as the purple gunk ran around the sides of her body like laying on the beach as the tide rose. The sticky solution felt rough yet tender, each squishy bit that stuck to her kimono a reminder that poison attacks stained. Quick thinking made her raise her head just above the wave. Many pokemon thought of her as a rock in a flood. A Dragonair wrapped its tail around her neck. Another Nidoran washed up against her leg. She didn't get up even then, to avoid the last few projectiles that were flying above them.
A final groan from a dragon breath was the only warning before the building collapsed inwards.
When she finally arose, it was to a pink barrier that was protecting her from the debris. Her pokemon was too busy protecting against the Scyther that he couldn't protect her from the sludge, only focusing on her since the debris was much more life-threatening. Only the backside of her kimono was saved from the staining, so severe that some parts had turned a monotone purple. Apparently some nicks had happened during the fight which meant she'd have to go to the hospital immediately in case of an infection. All her pokémon were still standing. Venusaur nudged its head against her guiltily. Though all the effects of the attack weren't considered, the wave was as effective as she suspected at corralling the weak pokémon. A macabre scene was painted with what could've been hundreds of them splayed around. Conveniently, the hole where Lane escaped in was covered up by debris.
One of the cops ran up when she finally nudged her way out of the game corner's remains. He was flabbergasted, taking a moment to reorient himself upon seeing her condition, before he started speaking. "Erika! What do we do now?"
She sighed in annoyance. Venusaur shrank to the ground. He just secured himself extra strenuous training.
Red was walking out of the cold base. All of his pokémon were a hair's inch from being knocked out, but they still trudged alongside him. Rows of grunts were along the walls. All of them wanted to stop him. None had the pokémon to do so. A sense of immense pride welled up inside of him, making each of his strides much more confident. Whatever there was to fear, he just rallied through an entire army of Team Rocket before finishing it off with a tough battle. It made the badges seem smaller. More importantly, it made Team Rocket feel smaller.
The confidence slightly faltered when he caught up with Lane. The number one fan waved before running over. He raised an eyebrow at the boy's condition. Everything was in proper order except for the purple gunk that looked like it was poured over his head like a barrel of a sports drink during a game. That the purple stuff also left behind weird chunks didn't seem to bother Lane.
"Look at you! I'm going to guess that this place is all dealt with?"
"I don't know how I beat their boss, but I just did," Red said. He was openly looking at the mess.
Lane laughed. "I have no idea how I lasted so long up there, but I did. We're the greatest crime fighting duo in the world! Winning by luck!"
"It was not luck. I beat him with strategy," Red said tartly. He saw that the ladder they used to enter was laying in pieces, along with a purple puddle spreading across the hallway. Droplets were still falling down. "What did you do?"
"Why are you asking that like I did something wrong? There's another exit this way, come on. It's the main one, which they were probably afraid you'd find if you came in through the front."
"Okay." Red's eyebrow rose. "How do you know this?"
Lane put a finger against his nose. "The nose knows."
They came out in a pile of debris. A thin layer of dust laid across the staircase as they walked up, the piles of the rooftop blocking half the way up and forcing them to sidle upwards. The gym leader of the city was waiting at the top with the entire police force surrounding the ruins. She did not look amused. The same purple dye that was on Lane had somehow gotten her even worse. It actually took him a closer look to recognize her; he'd seen her in magazines with a much different hairdo. It had gotten thrown into a confusing mess like she'd just gotten out of bed.
It also made him feel a little better.. It meant that Red wasn't specifically cursed to have Lane act that way. There just was a screw loose inside the boy's head. Realization only came when he got a better view of how many police were surrounding the pile of rubble, formerly known as the game corner.
Lane just felt a thrill from the irritated frown.
"You're both under arrest."
A/N: Shoutout to Frozen for the beta read and everybody who gave this story a chance at chapter 1!
Whether Lane actually won the fight is up to you. Technically he was always on the backfoot. Especially when the rest of Erika's team started coming out, it became even less plausible that he would've won in any universe. However, he managed to stall her out long enough to create a situation where Red's goals were achieved. Again, whether it's a win or not is up to you.
It kind of feels like a huge escalation in my mind that all of this happens within this chapter, especially with what's coming up. As justification, what else really was going to happen? As it's been shown, Lane is a meddler and Red doesn't like Team Rocket. It pretty much made some sort of conflict with Team Rocket inevitable in a town where their base is.
Obviously the ladder entrance is a bit of a creative liberty. C'mon, it's an evil base! Of course it has multiple exits in compliance with building codes!
Now for the reviews...
Guest: Thanks for the heads up. Shows that no matter how many times it's swept through, there's always going to be some issue that slips through. Appreciate it!
Farla: A lot to chew on here! Thanks for the in-depth review! Obviously there's some stuff here that isn't fixable off the cuff like the other one...
As time goes on, it should be obvious that there's weirdness around both the kid and the world around them. Originally I wanted the whole story to be even more dream-like, but it was my beta who mentioned that a lot of that ended up being plain confusing. Stuff like time being loose and some other. References to more obscure stuff like gen 1 having real continents in it are still being debated between me and my beta.
Later on I'll go a little bit more over the routes but the short of it is: they take less time, but they have stronger pokemon. Though your suggestion about there being less pokemon because of the higher traffic is something that I didn't even consider even if it's a good one.
The Charmander/Pikachu thing is just experience. As will be explained, Red is a bit like how we played pokemon when we were young: throwing the strong pokemon at everything while the rest of our team languishes...or was that just a me thing?
I think that I just wasn't very clear on that part and need to reword it. I imagine that Team Rocket is being much more aggressive during the game's events if Red is literally running into them every route and city. Especially for a kid from the boonies, it'd be an entirely new thing being accosted by gangsters. Also as I said before, the world is going to be a little strange. I mean, there's literally an evil base built right underneath a major city. How do the city's building plans look like? Did the evil base have to consciously dig out around the electrical grid?
The time thing is meant as more specific time. Sometimes there's hints of how much time is between games or between cities, but for the most part it's pretty much just left chronologically, as in X event happened after Y event or how far X region is from Y. Just as a safeguard as obviously a lot of the stuff that's coming up is going to use guesstimates at best.
As for the pokemon names, I'm just following the largest fanfics, or at least the ones that I read. Also the program that I use makes an angry red line unless I do it and unfortunately I'm a slave to making my documents look pretty. Really, I'm more agnostic towards it as I think that Jigglypuff and jigglypuff looks weird either way. If enough people raise enough of a stink then I'll probably retroactively change everything.
Thanks a bunch for the reviews! Rate, hate, interrogate and I'll catch all of you later.