Jericho pressed his cheek against the glass of the New Bark laboratory, staring at the sacred trinity of pokéballs that nestled on the machine within.

Two years, seven months and fifteen days.

That was how much longer he'd be trapped in this town. If half a dozen ramshackle houses could be called that. That poor Gold boy, no place to stay, no parents to take care of him, or more importantly, to sign the waivers that would have let a minor register as a trainer.

He could have been the next Red.

Hell, he could have been the first Red, he was thirteen when the legend had first started out on his first journey. He could have been approved for Bug Catching for five years by then, could have made his own journey.

Instead, the champion had taken Kanto by storm. Picked out by the renowned Professor Oak as a research assistant, he'd had unlimited capture rights, zero level restrictions... And his own starter, of course. Red became the League Champion, and an enduring symbol for the new peace.

Jericho stared glumly in at the white coated men ambling aimlessly from computer to computer,

By the time he was eighteen and old enough to apply on his own, what would there be left for him? Would there be a hundred and forty species still out there, waiting to be caught?

"Mrrl!"

A dense blue sphere crashed into Jericho, sending him tumbling to the earth. Two shiny black eyes peered down at him as a crooked tail tapped against his chest.

"Hey, Chinami." Jericho scratched the spherical rodent between its ears as he looked around the empty town green for the Marill's owner. "Flying solo today, are we?"

This was Professor Elm's big accomplishment. Lyra's test Marill could moving freely outside of its ball with no restrictions. No need to reach for her pocket, ten times the normal range limit, and not offensively neutered like her Azumarill "companion" pokémon either. Elm said this was going to be the next step in personal defence.

"Stop right there, Pokéthief!" A familiar voice yelled, accusing finger already outstretched as she rounded the corner of the lab.

"Ah! You'll never take me alive!" Jericho hopped to his feet, tucking Chinami under his arm as he backed towards the fence.

Lyra smiled and held out her hand. Chinami at once dissipated into energy and crackled through the air to her waiting pokéball.

"I know you're desperate, Mister Gold, but your method really needs work."

She raised the ball once more, and her Marill zapped back out, growing into a fuzzy blue basketball in a blaze of light.

Jericho winced, blowing on his fingers. "Give me a ball and ten steps in that direction." He waved towards the thick grass that dominated the lone path out of town. "And you'll see all about my method."

Lyra frowned. "You know it's not safe to go out in the long grass without a pokémon."

"You could always lend me Chinami."

"That would work great until you tried to order her to attack something."

"Well, just get me an axe then."

"Jericho!" Lyra's hands flew to her mouth. "That's illegal!"

It certainly was. Weapons, or anything that could feasibly be used as a weapon, were banned by the league as part of the ceasefire. He remembered just after the war, watching his mother struggling to get a trained rattata to cut vegetables because she was no longer allowed a knife.

Jericho sighed.

"Like I could do more with an axe than a freshly evolved gyarados. Except leave."

"That's different. The league makes pokémon safe."

Jericho snorted.

"Anyway... My parents wanted me to invite you to dinner tonight. We're having taillow."

Of course. The Crystals were good people. Like almost everyone in town they liked to help the "less fortunate". A burden they juggled between each other.

"Still trying to tame the wild?" The loathsome sneer in that voice set the hair on Jericho's neck on end as he glanced up over Lyra's shoulder at that crimson mop of hair.

"Troy." Lyra's cheerful face darkened as she replied through gritted teeth.

Troy Silver was not good people. Jericho gripped a fence post to keep himself from flinching as the larger boy loomed over them both.

"Either throw some mud or use a pokéball, that's how you catch a wild." Troy leaned close, the bitterness of his breath hot against Jericho's face.

Jericho gripped the fence post tighter.

"No... Throw a rock instead. Bug types are weak to rock, aren't they?"

"Leave him alone, Troy."

Droplets splashed Jericho's bare leg as a stream of pressurised water spattered off the wall, and Troy pulled away, a dark grin on his face.

"Yes, hide behind your pokémon while you still can, Lyra. Protect the weak little bug."

Troy planted a hand on Jericho's chest and shoved. Jericho winced as he tumbled back into the wooden fence, his skull cracking back into the wood.

"But I'll have a pokémon of my own soon. Then you better watch yourselves."

Troy shoved his way past Lyra, feinting a kick at Chinami as he went. The blue rodent simply ignored him, waiting impassively for orders. She was in battle mode.

Lyra scowled after him before thumbing her belt. Chinami instantly returned to her vibrant self once more, bounding off to investigate a nearby pile of soil.

"Are you alright, Jericho? I hate how he picks on you like that." Lyra took a half step forward before Jericho raised his hand.

"I'm fine, don't worry about it. Weren't you going to go help the professor?"

Lyra raised her eyebrows. "Ah! Yes! I'm late! Sorry, we'll talk in a few minutes! Come on, Chinami!"

Jericho waited until she'd rounded the corner, then slumped to the floor, clutching the back of his head.

This was his life. There were too many orphans after the war, and barely enough people to keep the routes open and, at least comparatively, safe. What little of the two governments had been left in Kanto and Johto had joined under the League, and the only children the league cared about came from eggs. Aside from his pity invites, he survived on berries and apricorns, he slept in the ramshackle hovel that was, at least technically, in his name, even if because nobody had come to tell him otherwise. And he dealt with Silver's malice and Lyra's pity.

It was hard to say which felt worse.

Silver was right, he probably would finally badger his mother into signing his release one of these days and get out of here, gloating as he tried the league, or signed onto a gym and enjoyed a freedom Jericho could only pretend to imagine. He couldn't even swim in the lake or the tentacool would eat him, if the chinchou or shellder didn't try him out as an exciting alternative to magikarp. Pokémon were everywhere, and they were everything, and he hated that with almost as much passion as he craved the freedom they represented.

A pokéball sailed through the air, hitting him in the chest. Jericho glared up at Lyra, who grinned down at him, thumbs hooked through the straps of her coverall.

"... Funny." He stared down at the ball in his lap. Except for highly regulated sporting event balls, Pokéballs were linked to a trainer's license and pokégear. Even if she really gave him one, he had neither. It would have been better if she'd really captured him with it.

And she knew it. Taunting him like this...

Snatching the ball out of his lap Jericho pulled his arm back to throw the ball back at her when he saw something that took the strength out of his arm.

Lyra's grin broadened as she held out the thin laminated rectangle. Jericho's own picture stared back at him with dark rimmed eyes, the word "PROVISIONAL" plastered across his frowning face.

"Is that?" Jericho's jaw dropped as he struggled to his feet, uselessly dusting at the grit on his stained knee-length shorts.

"I asked the Professor, and he said you could maybe head out on a delivery runs with the lab's cyndaquil now and then." Lyra jammed the provisional license into a metallic contraption just like the pokégear on her own wrist and extended it towards him.

"Thank…" Jericho shook his head, staring down at the machine as he flexed his hand into it, straps squeezing tight where they'd been meant for a slimmer wrist.

Lyra's face turned stern. "Now remember, Puck is only meant to keep wilds off you long enough for you to run, he needs to stay low level for lab work on him. And you'll need to go straight to Mister Pokémon at the end of Route 31 and come straight back. And don't-"

"Thank you!" Jericho kissed her soundly on the lips as he ran past, leaping through the air as he held the precious, precious ball in his hands. He crashed through the front door of his home, sending a wave of noise through the stillness of the dilapidated building, its interior gloomy despite the bright morning sun outside.

What to do… Jericho snapped his fingers. He had a pokémon now! And a pokégear! Jericho extended his hand and inserted the pokéball into one of the six slots in the side of his pokégear. Just like he'd seen Lyra do a hundred times before. It shrank to fit effortlessly, the extra mass disappearing using the same alternity compression that pokémon used themselves.

Jericho recoiled in surprise as the dim living room was illuminated by crackling flames that blazed into life behind him. He span to see a massive shrew, over a foot and a half long, the black fur on its back broken by a flickering inferno burning from its very body. It peered up at him through narrowed eyes.

Jericho relaxed and knelt before the curious creature. This was one of Elm's free-roamer test systems. Being in his gear's primary slot must have automatically released the pokémon in roaming mode.

"Hey there." He extended a hand towards the Cyndaquil, which continued to stare as he ran a finger across its creamy brown cheek fur. It felt not quite hot to the touch. "Puck, right? You might not know this, but you're my- well, you're loaned to me, right now."

Puck didn't reply, of course. It just stared at him, waiting for orders. The pokéball integrated with its brain to provide all the intelligence and loyalty software it needed, turning this dangerous creature into a loyal and intelligent servant. But it was still an animal, and adding communication functions to the balls designed to capture and subjugate hostile bioweapons was low priority at best.

"Well, let's get to know you, shall we?" Jericho tapped his pokégear, the lcd screen flashing onto a status readout. "Stubborn and rash, huh?" He stared down at the expressionless creature as it continued to await for input commands. "Well I don't see it, but you better follow orders out there, little guy. I'm not letting you mess this up for me. Let's go."

Roaming activated. The screen on his wrist flashed. Puck ceased to stare at Jericho, instead peering inquisitively about the room, casting long shadows about the room as it moved between worn furniture, nose twitching as it smelled its environment.

Jericho shook his head. He'd apparently had the cyndaquil combat ready, of course it wouldn't be replicating "normal" behaviour. Stupid him. "Hey, careful you don't burn anything, this place would go up like matches."

Puck gave no indication of having heard him, but the flame on its back dimmed a little. Jericho shrugged and headed for a set of cupboards, grabbing clothes carelessly draped across half open drawers and kicking off his shoes for a less worn set he'd had donated to him by the Cobalt's when their son had headed out on his own journey a few years back. They'd been too big for him then, but now they barely wobbled, he could wear an extra pair of-

"You know it's just two routes, right?"

Lyra stood at the door, her face flush in the firelight like she'd been running- oh. Jericho felt his own cheeks heating.

"I… um, yeah, I know. I wasn't planning on doing anything or anything. I just..." Jericho rubbed the back of his head, looking around for a cap to wear rather than meet the gaze of his benefactor.

"Want to get things right?" Lyra finished with a smile. "I trust you. And Professor Elm's a great man, you know that. Just take it easy and stay on the routes, you'll be at Mister Pokémon's and back before you know it. Maybe if you show him you can do a good job on this he'll take you on as a lab assistant, you can take care of testing Puck's roaming software full time."

"Thanks again, Lyra. Really." Jericho pulled a black cap onto his head, the first he'd found, and raised his hand. "Puck, it's time to go."

Puck scurried out from beneath the faded metal oven and scampered up behind him, falling in lockstep as Jericho headed for the door, struggling to get his pokégear'd arm through the strap of his tattered backpack. Lyra stepped out and held the door open for him, sunlight competing with the flames of the cyndaquil through the open door.

Jericho brushed his fingers across a faded photo frame on the wall as he left, a laughing, golden-eyed woman that held a much younger version of himself.

Then he let the door close behind them and raced towards Route 29, leaving Lyra waving and rolling her eyes behind him as he went.