Pokémon Rose

Chapter 1: The Last Night

(Gina Ikeda)

Gina's watch, which was currently not working and had become the subject of her tinkering, normally had a Charmander tail ticking slowly around the face. It had been a purchase in Viridian during a massive shopping frenzy the past summer, along with all the standard Pokémon books—Your Starter and You, Pokémon Language: The Spoken and Unspoken, Victory Road—and many obscure ones, such as Butterfree, Beedrill and Beyond. They lined her shelves in cramped rows, and she had not even had a chance to read most of them yet. Even so, Gina could still remember when the traveling vendors had last stopped by Pallet Town. They had been lugging even more books with them, and it had taken Gina a great deal of self-control to not abjectly and shamelessly beg her mother for everything on that cart.

Gina gave up on the watch and tossed it aside, sighing. It was distressing that it had chosen today to break, but at least now it would serve as a reminder. It had frozen at 12:02 a.m. on the morning of her twelfth birthday. It was official. She was legally allowed to become a trainer at any time.

This year it was Pallet's turn to host the Pokémon Expo and New Trainer Initiative. It only happened there once every nine years, and her mom had told Gina it was a "sign." The age limit for children to travel unattended had been upped to twelve around the time Gina had been born, and here she was, twelve years old a mere month before the Initiative would be in her own home town.

There was a knock on her door, and Gina kicked her dirty laundry off the corner of her bed, aiming it in the general direction of her fallen hamperer. "Yeah!"

Her mom pushed the door open with her butt and backed into the room, carrying a tray with two chipped mugs on it. Gina knew hers was the one painted with various Fire-type Pokémon, all blowing flames furiously at the base of the mug. Her mother's was an embarrassing old one with "#1 Mom!" written on it, plus a crooked happy face.

"Happy birthday," her mom said, grinning and stacking some cups together on Gina's nightstand so there would be room for the tray. "I see being a year older has not convinced you to suddenly clean your room."

"Nope," Gina agreed, taking her cup and scooting over so her mom had a place to sit next to her on the bed.

Gina looked nothing like her mother; she was adopted, so it made sense. Gina had brown eyes and long, sun-damaged brown hair, which seemed to always be at least a little bit tangled, and was swarthier from all the time she spent outdoors. Rachel, her mom, would burn alive in the sun and become fire red unless under the protection of SPF 50 sunblock. She had incredibly curly red hair, kept short and pulled back into a bandanna most of the time to keep it under control. She sported freckles and had almost childlike features, round and youthful.

"You're going to help with setup tomorrow, right?"

Moms always had a way of posing a command in question form. Gina smiled and nodded, sipping from her mug. "I don't have a choice," she stated, and got a "damn straight," in response.

Her mom was truly a busy body, and the fact that she, like everyone else in Pallet, would be starting prep for the Expo tomorrow was stunning to Gina. For as long as she could remember, her mom had a waitressing gig down at Mulligan's, one of the two diners in Pallet. Some days they were slammed with customers and her mom returned exhausted, ready to collapse on any flat surface. Other days it was so slow that she was sent home early with her share of measly tips and a slight frown on her face. Pallet also had a fancier, high-end restaurant, but it was not doing well at all and there were sounds that it would go out of business soon.

In the last two years her mom had started a side business that helped with the bills a great deal. She was Pallet's official bizarre costume seamstress. She didn't get a lot of business unless some wacky couple wanted a theme wedding, or a kid's costume party was around the corner, but Halloween was always fun. Gina was her ready and willing assistant then, trying things on, pinning fabric together and covering everything in copious amounts of glitter. Though Gina wasn't much a fan of dressing up herself, she did enjoy these marathon costume productions, even if she was no good with the more delicate jobs.

"You excited?" her mother asked.

"Yeah, and no," Gina answered honestly. "I'm glad to be twelve and all, but the Expo won't be starting for like six weeks. I'll be more excited then."

Her mom shook her head and sighed. "Stop being grown-up. I don't know where the years went."

"Uh-uh, no," Gina said, shaking her head. "No mushiness allowed."

"So cruel," her mom said, rolling her eyes and smiling. "Try to get some sleep, okay? And don't think you're going off on your journey leaving your room like this. I swear I will sell all your things."

"Now who's cruel?" Gina asked, putting on an air of horror and ducking from a pillow that her mom playfully threw at her.

Pallet was a sleepy town most of the time. It had the reputation of being the "country bumpkin" capital of Kanto, where technology was unheard of and an exciting Friday night consisted of sitting on the porch swing while chewing tobacco. As far as Gina was concerned, these allegations were not far from the truth.

Now, however, Pallet was completely transformed. It seemed their entire small population was out and about, bustling and taking on various projects in preparation for the Expo and Initiative. Gina ran a hand through her perpetually tangled hair, smoothing it into something semi-presentable, and headed over to the enormous log wall that encircled her town. A Fearow perched atop it, preening itself. Gina recognized the creature as belonging to Mr. Broderick, and sure enough, he was there a little ways down the wall, nailing a large swatch of fabric to the top of one of the logs. Gina's mother and her coworker from Mulligan's were at the bottom, holding it straight. Gina caught what the banner said and burst out laughing: Be Boulder! Take a Chansey. Gina could not believe how lame some of these pun-banners were. They had been arriving all week. She had a very strong suspicion that she knew who had thought them up, too.

Her mom had been alerted to her presence, and peered over her shoulder at Gina, blowing a stray lock of frazzled red hair away. "Hey sweetie! Go help Professor Drake!"

Professor Drake turned out to be behind his Research Center, staring blankly at the empty back wall. A few researchers were sitting awkwardly on the grass, struggling to get comfortable in their black slacks and business shirts, scribbling on clipboards. Professor Drake appeared to be deep in "absentminded professor" mode. Gina approached with caution.

"Heya," she said, and before she could get anything else out, he replied.

"What do you think? A Charmander, Bulbasaur, and Squirtle, all sitting together in a meadow? Too cutesy?" He waved one hand across the blank wall, a vague gesture to go with the vision in his head.

"Way too cutesy," Gina affirmed. "The starters are great, of course, but they should be doing something... using an attack, or something like that."

"Mmm," Professor Drake said, tilting his head to the side again. "Sounds like the mural we did nine years ago... you'd have been too young to remember."

Gina smiled, trying to cook up a different idea. She had always liked Professor Drake immensely. Most of the adults in Pallet treated people her age with an excess of sensitivity and coddling, but the professor was always forthcoming with his opinion. "Okay, well, we're Pallet Town, right?" Gina said. "When the first trainers started off, this was their kick-off point."

"Ah, yes..." Professor Drake said, picking up on Gina's train of thought and running with it. "Maybe a map of Kanto..."

"But not totally bird's eye view—"

"No, at a slight angle—"

"Yeah, stretching out towards the back—"

By the time their planning session was done, one of the professor's aides had compiled a pretty decent sketch. Apparently they had been doodling ideas on their clipboards, not taking complex research notes as Gina had previously thought. She found it pretty funny that this was part of what they got paid to do.

Alana, an intern from Saffron City, showed Gina and the professor her final drawing, and Gina was stunned at how good an artist she was. A superimposed image of the starters, looking very badass, was in the background, and their not-quite-bird's-eye map showed each city sporting an elemental burst of power and a badge. The final touch, which Gina and the professor had said in excited unison, was the Indigo Plateau, blown up to legendary proportions and shrouded in mysterious shadow. Something occurred to Gina.

"Wow. This will be kind of a lot to paint."

"Nothing's ever too much, Gina!" the Professor stated stout-heartedly. "Thank you for letting me leech your brain juice."

Now there was a pretty gross mental image. Gina snorted, but quickly adopted an expression of confusion when the professor handed her the clipboard with the drawing.

"Go inside and make a copy, will you? Then go and pick out some paint at Walden's. Thank you!" Gina was midway through a protest but it was pretty obvious that Professor Drake wasn't paying attention anymore. He'd just asked Alana for her latest Pokémon pun (Don't be Gastly! Fight the Drowzee-ness with our fresh-brewed coffee!) and had burst out laughing. "You're even better than me!" the professor said as they turned to walk away. "Why are you interning? You should be illustrating Pokémon joke books."

Gina blinked at the professor's retreating back and shook her head. For one, she did not have the faintest idea how a copy machine worked. She was also not very artistic and had no freaking clue how much paint she should order from their local hardware store. The professor's enormous respect for kids did have a downside.

Gina found the Research Center's copier quickly enough, but getting it to behave was another thing. She figured that laying the drawing flat on the glass screen was safer than trusting the strange tray labelled "document feeder." That made it sound like the machine would devour Alana's sketch.

Where to position it on the glass, though? It took Gina a few seconds to locate the small arrows and diagrams. She opened and closed the copier's lid many times before she was satisfied that it was in line. The little display screen was black. Gina wondered if it was turned off.

She was crawling around on the ground looking for the power switch when the doors to the Research Center opened again. Gina peered over at the backlit figure, hoping it was the professor or Alana coming to her rescue, but her hopes were quickly dashed and a scowl came to her face.

"What the heck are you doing?" the figure asked.

Gina thought about ignoring him, but this was his turf after all. "Making copies," she said shortly, attempting to continue her search as if he wasn't there. It was difficult, though. Just his presence in the room made her feel like an idiot already.

"You have no clue what you're doing," the boy said, stepping closer to the machine and Gina. "Have you ever worked with technology in your life?"

The boy was Amaris Drake, the unfortunate combination of genes that had somehow emerged from Professor Drake's family. Amaris was the professor's nephew, but looked so much like his uncle that he was often mistaken for his son by tourists who visited Pallet. Amaris lived with the professor in an annex to the research facility and, because of this, Gina often avoided the place in spite of liking Professor Drake very much.

"It's off," Gina said, managing to sound aloof and matter-of-fact.

Amaris snorted, walked over to the machine, and hit a button. It whirred, groaned and came to life, and Gina took a moment to grind her teeth in frustration before she stood up, brushing dust from her jeans.

"Thanks."

"Why in the world would my uncle trust you to touch anything more complicated than a paperclip?" Amaris wondered aloud. "He must be slipping."

Normally Gina would have retorted with some hostile comeback. Now she was just trying to figure out how to make the copy and get out of there.

Amaris, instead of swooping in with the answer, merely crossed his arms and watched. Gina felt like she was taking her graduation finals all over again. There were a lot of buttons on the digital display, and she wondered if she should click at random to see if the option "just copy the freaking paper already" popped up.

"Oh, brother," Amaris said.

"Shut up." Gina hit a green button in a moment of decisiveness, and the machine whirred and spat out a paper. Amaris grabbed it before she could, and she growled, "Hey!" at him.

"Jesus. This is what you and uncle decided on for the mural?" He held it away from his face, contemplating it with a look of skepticism.

"Give it," Gina demanded.

"I've been ordered to accompany you to Walden's," Amaris reported, only now bringing up this fact. Gina just stared at him in muted horror and disbelief. She could not believe Professor Drake had thrown her to the wolves like this. He had to know his nephew was an insufferable brat.

"I'm fine."

"You can't even make a copy."

"I just did!"

"If I hadn't walked in you'd have been crawling around on the ground for hours."

"Tell your uncle I'm fine on my own," Gina spat, snatching the paper from Amaris' hand and stalking toward the door. She hated how easily he got under her skin. Her temper sometimes got the better of her, but with Amaris that "sometimes" became "always."

Amaris laughed once and followed her out into the blazing June heat. Gina turned and glared at him, then picked up the pace.

By the time they made it to Walden's Hardware Store they were both extremely overheated. Pallet, small though it was, brought in rolling waves of humidity during the summer. Gina always theorized that it was due to their proximity to Cinnabar Island and the volcanic temperatures there, but being right on the ocean didn't help either. She shoved the doors open and sighed in the cool air, then stared perhaps a bit grouchily at the store owner. Junior Walden blinked at her, confused, then shifted his attention to Amaris. "Hey kids. What can I do for you?"

"Paint," Gina grumbled, heading to the back to look at swatches. Amaris followed her and stood off to the side, running his hands through his rust-colored hair and looking supremely bored and haughty. Gina, wanting to make this fast, grabbed a generic black, white, blue, yellow and red, and stuffed them into a clear plastic bag. Then she bent low over an order slip and started to do some spatial math in her head, trying to figure out how much of each color they would need. She inwardly cursed Professor Drake for his assumption that she knew how much paint would adequately cover the back of a research center. It was amazing what the heat and Amaris' presence could do to her good mood.

"You aren't getting orange or green?" Amaris asked incredulously. "Or gray?"

"You can mix those from these," she said, penciling in "2" for the white swatch.

"That's ridiculous." Amaris pulled green, orange, purple, and gray from the wall and tossed them in Gina's bag.

Gina dug them out. "We don't need those. It's cheaper to mix from these."

"Gina," Amaris said, rolling his eyes, "unlike you, my uncle can actually afford paint."

Gina fought the urge to slam her hands into the shelf. "I cannot believe how much of an ass you are."

While she was talking, Amaris grabbed the discarded swatches and tossed them back into her bag. Her expression must have changed into something he found funny, because he laughed at her again.

"By the way, two buckets of paint is cutting it close. Get four."

"You do it," Gina said, shoving everything at him and stalking to the door.

"Finally," Amaris muttered, and Gina could practically hear the smug, self-satisfied smile in his voice.

When Gina was later given the task of hammering pegs into the log wall to hold Pokémon merchandise, she happily pounded the crap out of anything she could get her hands on.

Over the next few weeks, Pallet continued to amp up until Gina's entire town was a restless flurry of action. She helped with just about everything, walking from area to area as a case-by-case errand girl.

Amaris was assisting with the mural on and off, and when Gina could handle looking that way without scowling, she had to admit, he'd had a point about the extra colors. They made a difference, and the more moody purples and fiery oranges the mural took on, the cooler it looked.

Gina measured fabric, counted beads, baked cookies, hammered nails carefully into wood, ran refreshments around, watched toddlers for busy parents, and helped move endless items in and outdoors. She often moved and removed the same things multiple times due to picky designers. Mrs. Halloran was the worst, and Gina quickly took to avoiding her.

Production went on well into the night most of the time, and on the evenings Gina wasn't too exhausted, she climbed up to the roof. It was her favorite place to relax.

It seemed like hardly any time had passed when the night before the big day arrived. Gina was up on the roof, vaguely regretting the soda she'd had earlier in the day. It was now going on ten and she was nowhere near tired.

From what she'd heard, Viridian was an abject mess. Future trainers and in many cases, their entire families, had been piling into that city all week long. Some had even arrived almost a month in advance. Luckily Viridian was always prepared for this hassle. It was rough when the New Trainer Initiative was held in Pallet; Pallet only had one neighboring city, unlike most of the "Big Eight" (as the Gym-bearing towns were called). It wasn't as bad as Cinnabar, though... Gina clearly remembered last year, when the Expo had been held there. Nearly a hundred people had flooded Pallet, since it was the closest bit of civilized land to Cinnabar.

Everything was ready. Gina could see the mural from here. It really had turned out nice. She was proud for having had a hand in it. Right now the vibrant colors were dulled from the lack of light, making it look smoky, indistinct and mysterious.

Gina shifted to dangle her legs over the edge of the roof, breathing in a deep breath of evening air. It was a balmy night, a snapshot of an ideal summer evening. Her mom was taking the whole upcoming week off from Mulligan's, something most waitresses wouldn't have been able to get away with. As it was she'd covered for her coworkers so often that they had no trouble taking her shifts for her now that her only child would be going off into the world. Her mom was working her last evening shift of the week now, and it was just Gina at home, enjoying the starry sky and the excited buzz of other eager people milling around below.

Over the last six weeks homes had been repainted, gardens trimmed, spare bedrooms cleaned out. Trips to Viridian for supplies had been so frequent that Gina highly suspected all Pokémon on Route 1 were very much in hiding.

Just thinking about Route 1 made a grin come to her face. She'd been dreaming of this day for a long time, and felt certain that other overexcited twelve-year-olds in Viridian and even Pallet were feeling the same way right now. She wondered how many yawning, tousle-haired preteens she'd spot tomorrow morning.

Gina was terminally bad at sports and card games, which was basically all the kids her age did around here, but nevertheless she had grown up with a number of peers and now felt more attached to them in light of her upcoming departure. Some were too young to start out this week, like the Sanders twins, and some had settled into professions already, not wanting to go to higher schooling or on Pokémon journeys at all. Randy Walden, Junior's son, had just started working at his dad's shop, happily preparing to take over the family business.

It made Gina's skin itch to think of it. Staying in Pallet her whole life, never adventuring or seeing the world... it baffled her that some people were perfectly fine with this. She'd committed a social faux pas the other day and explained her stance on adventuring while eating at Mulligan's. This had led to a lecture from Mr. Vanderbladt about disrespectful kids judging others. Gina made a mental note to keep those musings silent from now on.

A Pidgey landed on Pallet's wall and Gina, unbidden, recalled an image of Amaris chucking stones at the birds. He'd claimed it was practice for aiming a Pokéball, and told her she would have such terrible aim that she'd never catch anything. She had gone "all righteous," as he called it, and he had insisted they were smart enough to fly before the rock got anywhere near them. Turned out, they were smart enough, but it infuriated her that he wouldn't let them sit and mind their own business.

"Gene, you're going to have to fight them and actually damage them when you're a trainer. And you can't deal with me tossing a stone here or there? May as well just apply to Mulligan's already."

That had been one of her very few actual fist fights with Amaris. Harassing Pokémon and insulting her mom's profession on the same day was just too much. Why Amaris was constantly amused by her baffled Gina. She'd given him one hell of a shiner that day and had been berated by her mother for a good hour. The guy just kept coming back to dish out and receive more abuse.

She grinned at the memory of his scandalized face after that fight. He'd worn an expression that said clearly, Wait, you can hit? But... you're a girl.

Gina had to admit, calling her "Gene" (her hideous birth name) had not helped her temper that day. Her mom often apologized, explaining that it had been on her birth certificate and there was nothing they could do until she was sixteen and could have it legally changed. Her mom understood Gina's bureaucratic frustrations, as she had also been adopted by the grandparents Gina had never met, the Ikedas. When Amaris had found this gold nugget of blackmail during school many years ago, he had refused to call her anything but "Gene" from then on. It was only when Gina caught him trapping and training wild Rattata that an agreement was struck up. Gina would keep quiet about his illegal, unregistered training, and Amaris would revert back to calling her Gina. So far he had upheld his end of the deal, so she had upheld hers.

Gina groaned internally. She kept forgetting that Amaris would be embarking on his journey this year, too. He'd stayed back last year, wanting to receive his starter from his uncle rather than at the Expo in Cinnabar. Gina desperately hoped he would plow forward at light speed, be miserably defeated by the Pewter Gym Leader, and crawl back to Pallet, ashamed. Gina herself planned to go slow and savor it. She only hoped not too many other trainers had the same idea. Traveling perfectly in sync with a hundred other kids would be a bit lame.

It was now going on eleven and Gina knew she desperately had to get to bed. Tomorrow would be an early morning and she didn't want to be a zombie for it. Reluctantly she slid down from the roof and ducked back in through her open window. When her mom arrived home a few minutes later, they decided on six a.m. as a wake-up time. This meant seven and they both knew it.

Gina didn't dream that night. She thought her mind would be full of derring-do and close scrapes with wild Pokémon, or perhaps filled with glorious Gym victories and a four-on-one showdown with the Elite Four. Instead her mind slipped into sweet, empty silence for the last night before the Expo.

Author's Note: As a heads up, this series is going to be very long, and will utilize multiple different characters' points of view from chapter to chapter. If you prefer to have one narrator take you through the entirety of a story, this may not be for you. That said, I hope you stick around!