It was late night in Ecruteak City. The houses had closed, the lights were off, and the small ancient town was silent. No one was there, except for the lone figure crossing the roads, who moved along through the city as if it was as clear as day. He reached for a key and opened one of the most prominent buildings on the new side of the town, opposite the old city with the Burned and Tin Towers. Not too long later, a second figure came the same way, with much more fumbling. This other, smaller figure came with a small biped and a smaller quadruped at his sides; he also entered the Ecruteak City Gym.

The first character hid in the shadows when his follower entered. The man smiling unseen reached for a Poké Ball, flinging it silently at the figure.

A Ghastly threatened the trespasser, diving at him with ethereal malice. The newcomer, a young teenager, was unshaken, sidestepping the ghost while his companions reacted; the Sneasel attacked with a Night Slash and the Umbreon with Faint Attack. The boy did not appear concerned by this turn of events at all. He may even have expected it.

"Making sure I was on my guard?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Of, course," the man said, revealing himself to be an adult of about 30 years of age, wearing simple blue garb that contrasted with his blond hair; he was Morty, the Ecruteak City Gym Leader. "If you can't take a little surprise you certainly won't make it in the line of work you're looking for." His voice had a smooth quality, but was slightly scratchy.

"Clearly I can," the boy countered in a low, quiet voice.

Morty did not respond. His piercing eyes gazed over him, his second sight allowing him to see what visible light did not betray. His eyes darted all around the adolescent, from his short dark hair, to his equally drab shirt, his cargo pants and his dark blue shawl over his shoulders. Morty finally settled on his eyes, the ghost trainer's hazel eyes settling on the other's dull grey ones. The deeper things he saw were unclear though. The boy had experienced more agony than is usual even for most adults, but Morty could not see the cause. The boy also had unusual determination, possibly forged by the same source of his pain. His motivation though was the most blurry, Morty unable to grasp any idea of why the kid had come here, or why he wanted to do what he wanted to do. The boy did not have anything other aspects worthy of alarm, or at least none he could see. Neither darkness nor naïveté nor any significant weaknesses displayed themselves. The gym leader relaxed. He was not hiring a psychotic.

He laughed. "Boy, you've got… spirit isn't the right word. Determination, that's what it is." The blond man shrugged. "That's an interesting line of work you've got planned, for a boy who's only thirteen. Most kids want to be Pokémon masters, but you? You want to fight ghosts. Never seen anything like it."

"Not only ghost Pokémon." The raven-haired boy corrected him. "I want to take down aggressive or destructive Pokémon that attack people, and bring them to justice."

"Is there justice for Pokémon?" The blue clad ghost trainer commented. "Can a wild Pokémon really be held accountable for its actions? I suppose that's a philosophical argument for another time though. But you still want to fight ghosts. Ghosts and Darks in particular, so you come to me to ask for a commendation, so you can make a living of it. A letter of recommendation from me is going to take more than a snazzy outfit or boundless determination though, and you really don't fit those categories too well anyways. You need to prove that you can fight ghosts, and the tough ones at that."

"I expected as much,"

His sharp eyes gazed towards the battlefield of his gym. He lightly tossed a Poké ball, releasing a Pokémon. Misdreavus.

"Umbreon, this is your fight." The boy said, and the dark moonlight Pokémon strode forward to face its foe.

Morty looked at the trainer before him, and he nodded.

"Misdreavus, use Mean Look!" Morty commanded, and the ethereal Pokémon sent an intimidating glare of malice towards Umbreon. Umbreon bared his small fangs and snarled at the ghost, egging it on.

"Now use Perish Song!" Morty followed. His opponent only smiled, as Misdreavus, rather than singing a song of death, began to simply hiss and screech, accomplishing nothing.

"I expected a Perish Trap, so I had told Umbreon to use Taunt." The boy explained, the Umbreon, flaunting in it success glared at the Misdreavus.

Morty whipped out a Poké Ball, returning Misdreavus, but failed to do so; the beam would not connect.

"I also had him use Mean Look to prevent you from changing strategy. You're in for it now."

"How did you get your Umbreon to do that? You never said a word." Morty asked, bewildered and curious.

The boy shrugged. "A Misdreavus will always use Perish Song if it first uses Mean Look. I taught my Umbreon to know that. Also, Faint Attack!"

The Umbreon lunged at the ghost, throwing a quick punch in her face, making her cry out in pain.

Morty had almost no options. Between Umbreon's resistance to ghost moves and excellent defenses, none of Misdreavus's standard attacks would have any effect, and his final option, Psywave, was useless against Dark types. He went with his best option, which he knew could only at best slow the opposing Pokémon down.

"Curse!" Morty said regretfully, and his Pokémon sadly relinquished most of her own life force to spite her foe.

The Umbreon followed up with another Faint Attack, and the Misdreavus was rendered unconscious from the blows. Morty reluctantly withdrew his Pokémon.

"Savage Umbreon you have there," Morty commented, the mentioned Pokémon growling at its opponent. "Alas, it won't be of much use against… Gengar!"

A Poké Ball flew forward releasing a large and imposing ghost, a trickster and powerful attacker. Umbreon began to snarl but was suddenly racked with pain as the curse shot through his body. The boy grimaced at the pain afflicting his Pokémon, knowing that Gengar could stall and destroy Umbreon. He would have to take advantage of the lull in the fighting the Gengar would make when it substituted or protected to avoid damage. Moonlight would nullify the damage taken so far effectively.

"Show no mercy, Gengar! Focus Blast!" Morty exclaimed, throwing his opponent off balance at the surprise move.

Gengar closed its eyes and stretched his arms to the sides, summoning a bubble of energy around him. Umbreon began to dash to attack, but the Gengar released the swirling energy, throwing the little Pokémon back, unconscious.

"You changed your strategy. It threw me off guard." The boy said.

Morty shook his head. "No, you were looking at it wrong. I never cursed so I could stall you out; I cursed to ensure Focus Blast would defeat Umbreon. You've got to open your mind to all tactical possibilities." Morty admonished.

The figure opposite him fidgeted, returned his Pokémon to its resting place, and picked another sphere from his belt.

"Murkrow," he said, and a small, ominous black bird entered the arena. It studied the Gengar carefully. Unlike its Umbreon counterpart, the Murkrow seemed much more cautious, and exacting. Generally more dangerous than fury. Morty knew he had sent the Murkrow rather than the Sneasel, or another Pokémon, because it was not weak to fighting attacks because of its secondary flying type. A smart move, but Gengar is a Pokémon of versatility as well as power.

"A smart move, but not smart enough," the gym leader laughed. "Thunderbolt!"

An electric current began to run through the Gengar, ready to tear through the defenseless bird when its trainer called out, "Sucker Punch!"

In a flash, the Murkrow appeared directly in front of the vulnerable charging Gengar. With what almost looked like a smile on the bird's face, it gave two sharp jabs with its wings to the Gengar's face, knocking it out with revolting precision.

"Interesting," thought the victorious challenger. "It smiles even when unconscious."

Morty recalled his Pokémon still smiling. "That was one of the best matches I've had in a good while. Brutal and short, but fun. Of course, your team was entirely comprised of Pokémon designed to defeat the Pokémon I use."

"That's all the more reason for you to let me take this job, I'll clearly be just as efficient as I was in here. If you just give me some contacts, I can capture dangerous Pokémon and stop them from hurting people!"

"Just as efficient?" Morty asked, suddenly becoming more serious, the crispness of a recent battle extinguished. "Did you think you were efficient in there? You tried to stay two steps ahead of me, and it let you knock out my Pokémon, but it also got your Umbreon defeated. You over thought the battle, and you cannot afford to do that. You need to think on your feet, react to the environment now, not the environment after the next exchange of blows, or your strategy will blow up in your face. Besides, do you really think that wild Pokémon will be as easy to predict as I am? I was never comfortable with this anyways. A Pokémon Hunter is basically just a glorified mercenary."

"Mercenaries fight for profit."

"How is that different than capturing for profit?" Morty asked snidely.

"I don't hurt people, or people's Pokémon."

"Alright, so let me ask you something. Why? Why do you want to be a Pokémon Hunter? It lacks the prestige of Pokémon training, or the income at the high levels, and you look like you could make it there, with practice."

"I want to help people. Pokémon battles are glorified cockfights."

"Don't lie to me, because we both know you don't believe that. You and I just had a Pokémon battle right here, and you certainly didn't hold back or seem squeamish. You can drop the red herring, it won't fool me."

The trainer was silent for a moment. It might have been a while since he had a conversation with someone much smarter than he was. The boy looked up and saw the leader, staring at him with his auburn eyes. Lying would get him nowhere.

"I'm not sure." The boy began. "Something about the trainer lifestyle never appealed to me. Regardless of the reason, I know that this is what I want to do."

That was at least half-true.

"Why Ghost Pokémon though?

"Everyone needs a specialty."

"That is true, but it also doesn't answer my question."

The boy paused again. "The team I have just seemed to assemble itself. It would be especially effective against ghost Pokémon, thus I specialize."

Again, a statement that was at least true in part. Morty knew what he needed to know at least; he did not need to pry into the boy's psyche, he had already done that.

"Fine," Morty said. "Lavender Town. Find Mr. Fuji. There has been some ugly aftermath from a gravesite relocation project. He'll tell you what you need to know. Clean it up and he'll give you a contact for future jobs."

"Thank you sir," the boy said beginning to leave.

"Darcy," Morty said, the boy turning back. "Watch your back. I promise you, this is not going to be an easy job."

"Thank you," Darcy repeated, leaving the gym for good.

"I hope I didn't make a mistake," Morty said to himself, giving his Gengar a revive. "I hope he doesn't get killed either. What do you think?"

The Gengar looked at its trainer, contemplative, then gave a mad cackle and flew around the building.

"Same as usual," Morty sighed, recalling his ghost and returning home. It was late, after all.

-000-

So he had succeeded. His aspiration was finally going to be fulfilled. Morty never even noticed his biggest problem. Darcy began to run out, excited, but stumbled and panted for breath.

" It would be a shame to be undone now, having come this far, by a fainting spell." Darcy thought. He clutched at his chest, his heart fluttering. Doubt began to gnaw at him. He had managed to convince Morty, but maybe that was for worse and not for better.

"You could seriously die! Did you really think the challenge was to get past detection of your condition? You probably would have been better off letting him know, maybe he could have stopped you, and you could have lived to see the age of fourteen." He thought.

"The only reason I'm here, and not in that bed, is because of my determination." He answered himself. "If I gave into fear now, I would be undoing everything I fought and struggled for. If it wasn't for the painful physical therapy, I might not be alive today. "

He reached for a Poké Ball. A red laser pierced the darkness, releasing the darkness Pokémon, Murkrow.

"Fly," he ordered, stretching out a rough part of his sleeve. The crow sunk his talons into it and lifted the boy into the air.

"Azalea Town," he said, and the bird flapped its wings and flew across the moon south to the small town nestled in a valley between a dark cave and a mystical forest. Darcy had one last thing to put in order before he left for Kanto.

As his bird finally made it to Azalea, Darcy could see that the house indeed had its lights on, its owner still crafting one of his works. When Kurt had time to sleep the boy would never know. Hoping he was not disturbing him, he came to the door and entered.

"Who's there?" The man at the workbench asked, but he had a suspicion. He put down the apricorn in his hands and turned to find his friend.

"Darcy Chase?" he questioned happily. "It's good to see you; you've been such a stranger. What are you doing up so late?"

"Morty gave me a job, I'm gonna need some of the apricorns I've lent you back. You haven't been tampering with them have you?" Darcy asked his parents' old friend.

"Of course," Kurt said. "I've some level balls, fast balls, love balls for you. Should make Pokémon Hunting a much easier task. Remember that you have to hit the Poké Ball in the center of the Pokémon's energy, or else my Poké Balls won't work. They are craftsmanship, after all."

"Where would that be in a ghost?"

"I've no idea," Kurt laughed, handing him a small sack containing the Poké Balls. "Darcy, you've been like a nephew to me. Be careful. Don't let that heart beat you, but don't beat it either."

"I won't. I promise." Darcy accepted the bag.

"Where are you heading?"

"Lavender Town, in Kanto." Darcy explained, a bit of pride welling within him. "I don't know the details, but it sounds like something along the lines of a mass uprising of ghosts."

Kurt was silent.

"It won't go down like that,"

"I know," Kurt replied, "But I still worry. That's dangerous, no matter who you are."

"If I died easy, I wouldn't be here now." Darcy said, leaving the door.

Kurt sighed, and got back to work. He'd known the kid since before he was born, when his parents were pregnant. They had had to move to Goldenrod, because it was the only place with adequate medical facilities to support a boy born with a failing heart. He'd made a point of getting to know the kid to appease his friends, but didn't expect to like him. The child had proven to have an incredible will to live, and his stubbornness behind that weak heart of his had not only saved the boy's life, but also made the two friends. To most he may seem hard to like, but knowing him from childhood made him impossible not to like. If only his parents knew what their son was up to.

-000-

"We hope to see you again!" the pink haired eccentric said from behind the counter, handing a tray of four Poké Balls to Darcy. He left the Pokémon hospital and summoned Murkrow.

"Fl…" Darcy began, but saw the state of his Pokémon. Flying a thirteen year old boy that far had taken a toll on the poor bird, healed or not.

"Idiot." He thought. "Let your Pokémon rest. Besides, you're not in the shape right now to go to Lavender Town. Wait until tomorrow, fly to Goldenrod, take a tram to Saffron, and fly to Lavender Town then."

He let his Murkrow rest and stepped back into the Pokémon Center. He needed a room for the night after all.

A/N: Review. Review. Review. And be serious, tell me what you like and don't like so far. I can't make it better without your help. Next chapter, comic relief character ahoy!