About a month ago inspiration hit while reading a Trainer fic on SPPf at 12:30 at night, and so for an hour I forced myself to write as quickly as possible to get down my story idea, and I had worked on it for a week after until I was satisfied and posting it on SPPf.
This is an extremely random and a spur-of-the-moment type story, and is more of a muse and something to consider than anything else. It’s not epic or all that exciting, and for some reason it ended up being quite disproportionate, but I’m content enough with it in the end. It’s just a short, light read, and funny in its own silly way. ^^
As always, all comments are more than welcome. So just sit back, relax and…enjoy.
Near the northern exit of Route 1 a young man in his mid-teens stood leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. His clothing was nothing more than a pair of ripped jeans, a muscle shirt and a worn pair of running shoes which dug deep into the loamy soil over the tree’s roots. Dark green eyes stared straight ahead, down the dirt path straddled by tall, Pokémon-inhabited grass on either side, all the while long, bony fingers drumming against each arm as he waited, taking in every sound and noting every sight, from the scratching of Sentret paws against the ground to every Pidgey that fluttered past. For a brief moment his eyes flashed upwards as he quickly glanced at the sun’s position in the azure sky- just tickling the distant mountains in the west.
The boy grunted. He had already been visited by two ten-year-old Trainers that day, and surely the last couldn’t be far behind. After all, even after running back to Pallet Town to heal one’s Pokémon a few times, crossing through Route 1 didn’t take more than an hour, and the last Trainer had passed by almost three hours ago by now. Starting off slowly wasn’t a good sign, and was often a hint that such Trainer was nervous and a timid battler. Not to mention it showed that the three new Trainers were at different skill – or perhaps confidence - levels. The teen closed his eyes and let out a long breath of air through his nose, lips pressed together in a frown. He stayed like this for a while, eyes closed with the tree’s bark scratching slightly against his bare neck, but he hardly seemed to care and remained completely immobile as he tested his patience with the Waiting Game.
And then, finally, came the sweet, blessed sound he had been waiting for. The snapping of the twigs and crumpling of the leaves that had landed onto the path against which floppy sandals pounded and a young boy stumbled into view, tripping over a branch on the path as he did so. Curly, bright red hair bounced atop the boy’s head whose youthful face was littered with freckles bounded into view, the contents of a knapsack jingling about noisily as he finally caught sight of the newbie. Ah, such annoying, obnoxious sounds he was never so thankful to hear!
The boy still hadn’t noticed the teen even when he was only a few dozen feet away, so with a sigh he put on a large, goofy grin and waved enthusiastically to the approaching boy.
“Hey, kid, over here!” he shouted his salutation, waving the kid over. Glancing about, the young boy looked wildly around, as if unsure if the stranger in the wife beater was talking to him or not.
“Yeah, you!” he called back in as friendly a way as he could. After a few blank blinks of his light brown eyes, the young boy hurried forward, a questioning expression on his heart-shaped face.
“Hiya, kid. The name’s Corey! You look a little frazzled- newbie Trainer?” he asked cheerfully with a friendly wink and a thumbs-up.
“Er, uh…hi. Yeah, I just, uh, started my Pokémon journey today.” responded the boy slowly in a somewhat squeaky voice, which wavered, but grew slightly in confidence as he spoke. Ah, the joys of being a pre-pubescent kid.
“Ah, well, congratulations, er…sorry, you spoke so fast I didn’t catch your name!” Corey said earnestly, nudging the kid and offering him a sly smile.
“Oh, um, I’m Shaun, all the way from Lavaridge Town!” the boy said, pointing at himself proudly.
“Wow, Lavaridge! That’s all the way from Hoenn!” Corey marveled, eyes widening in awe.
“Yup! I um, I came aaaaaaall the way over here to get a Pokémon from Professor Oak! People say he’s the best in the world, yunno!” Shaun’s confidence had grown quite a bit, and Corey resisted the urge to laugh at children’s’ abilities to boast about just about anything, but he played along.
“Wow, so I’ll bet your Pokémon is pretty strong!” This part was just a matter of saying the right words with the right amount of cheerfulness and enthusiasm, and Corey did it with gusto.
“Er…” the Trainer’s confidence seemed to falter here and his chocolate-coloured eyes began to wander elsewhere. “I…guess…”
“Aw, c’mon, you look pretty tough! I bet behind those freckles is a battling heart of gold! That’s how Drake was, you know- shy and quiet, but a fierce battler!”
?” Shaun’s eyes immediately shot back to stare at the teen, eyes wide and mouth agape in awe.
“You better believe it! Of course, it did
take a lot of hard work and battling, but you don’t get to be an Elite Trainer without a bit of practice, you know.” Corey’s grin widened as his gaze shifted upwards, eyes clouding over as if a bunch of thoughts were running through his head.
“Yeah, that’s what they say…” the young Trainer’s voice quieted as he spoke, also as if remembering something, something he had been told many a time before. There was a moment of silence as the two mulled over their own thoughts until Corey looked back down.
“Say, you know that when two Trainers’ eyes meet, it’s custom to battle- that’s how it works out here. So let’s have a go at it, right here and now!” Corey’s voice was all sincerity and his eyes widened enthusiastically, as if the idea was genius.
“Oh, uh, I haven’t battled any other Trainers yet…” Shaun mumbled, eyes dropping to look at the Pokéballs strapped around his waist. He dug the toe of one of his sandals into the ground and averted Corey’s eyes.
“So? Battling Trainers isn’t much different than battling wild Pokémon, and you look like you’ve done lots of that! What d’you say?” Corey took away a touch of eagerness, not wanting to scare the kid or look as if he was pressuring him. After all, what was wrong with an honest battle?
“Um, well, I did
do a lot of battling here already…and there was this really tough Pidgeotto before…okay, let’s do it!” the young Trainer explained, mind made-up. He smiled somewhat nervously.
“That’s the spirit, Shaun old boy! I’ll run over here, and that’ll give us enough room to start!” Corey’s smile widened and he trotted over to a random spot that left their Pokémon a good few feet to battle freely.
“You ready, then? Okay, go, Shellder!”
“Yeah! I choose you, Bulbasaur!”
Two beams of white light materialized into the two Pokémon, and the battle commenced…
With a weak arm, Shaun recalled a green, toad-like Pokémon into its Pokémon, the small ice particles that had been clinging to the large bulb on its back melting as it disappeared in a beam of red light. The young Trainer trudged away, hanging his head dejectedly and letting his bright red locks fall over his eyes while Corey rested against another tree, a thin wad of bills in his hand and a grin spread from ear to ear across his face.
“Better luck next time, eh, Shaun?” he called gleefully as the young Trainer plodded slowly to Viridian City, and air of defeat surrounding him. “Hey, I thought your Grass-type would have the advantage, too! But I’m sure
you’ll do better next time!” Corey let out a deep, booming laugh, not even trying to make out the ten-year-old’s mumbled response.
“Ahhhhh, those newbies never learn! But, the first battle’s always the toughest!” Corey chuckled as he fingered through his earnings. “Yup, Corey the Pouncer, that’s the one! They never know what cunning lies behind this friendly face! Those kiddies never learn that not everything is as happy-go-lucky as seem on TV, and who am I but an educator of the fine young Trainers, ha-ha!” Eyes twinkling, he pocketed the money and he looked back up at the sky, grinning as it darkened and just the smallest amount of sunlight could be seen from behind the western mountains.
In the distance, a Spearow cawed, as if in protest. Corey turned to the direction the sound had come from, hands on hips. “Well, a guy’s got to make a living somehow
, doncha know!”
In a nearby Pokémon Center, three kids who had just become Trainers earlier that day buried their faces in their hands and wondered if every other day would be as miserable as their first…