The New Guy

 

Disclaimer: Bet you’ve all seen enough of these, haven’t you? *.*

 

Note:  In this fic, only boys can become pokemon trainers.  They have to go to special pokemon schools if they want to become pokemon masters.  Misty, Ash, and the rest have never met yet, unless they know each other from school.

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Splat!

 

A wet, slimy, wad of paper landed right in the middle of the teacher’s forehead.  He barely even stuttered as he wiped it off with the back of his hand and continued reading aloud from the book in his hands.  A rather handsome young man, with brown hair and blue eyes, he was the only thing that was remotely calm in the room.

 

The entire class was in a frenzy.  The students had split into three groups; two of them were having a war against each other.  Pencils, erasers, and other junk flew across the room, occasionally landing on an unfortunate boy’s head.  The other group, consisting of the two or three boys who actually wanted to learn, was trying hard to hear their teacher above all the shouts.

 

 “Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!”  A shrill scream from a small, nerdish looking boy with glasses sitting at the front of the room erupted into the air.  His hair was dripping with what looked like a mix of sour milk, rotten apple mush, and other objects too rotten to make out.  His uniform was a mess, with the concoction running down his shirt.

 

The boys who had thrown the goop laughed in the back right-hand corner of the class as the boy dashed out of the classroom crying.  The teacher hardly took notice of this and continued reading, as if nothing had just happened.  After all, it occurred almost every single day.

 

The group of boys at the left-hand side of the room looked on in disgust at the scene.  One of them, a rather short kid, about 10 years old, with spiky black hair and a red and white cap, stepped forward.  He seemed to be the leader of his group.

 

“This is between you guys and us!  Leave them out of it!”  He shouted at the laughing group opposite him.  His chocolate brown eyes flashed angrily as the leader of the other side stepped up with a sneer on his face.

 

“Who cares about them?  All they ever do is cry anyway.”  He snickered and looked toward his pals behind him.  They snickered back at him.  The kid had brown, spiked hair and was taller and heavier, not to mention stupider, than anyone else in the class. 

 

“Like you never do, Ramon.”  The kid with the cap on replied, distaste evident in his voice.  Behind him, his three friends laughed at the bewildered look on their opponents face.

 

Ramon looked puzzled.  He could not remember when someone had seen him cry.  “Shut up, Ash, or I’ll…I’ll…I’ll sic my pokemon on you.”  He growled, pleased that he had come up with a retort.

 

Ash had an amused look on his face.  Turning towards his friends, he nodded in Ramon’s direction.  “So, he wants to sic his pokemon on me, huh?  What do you think, Richie?  Should we spoil the surprise for him?”

 

This was directed towards another 10 year old.  He had dusty red hair and was clad in what all the students at the Pokemon Institute wore: a white top and khaki pants.

 

“Sure Ash.”  He turned towards Ramon, a mischievous look in his blue eyes.  “Ramon, have you forgotten already?”

 

“What?”  The big 14 year old growled.  He could tell something was up, but he was not quite sure what.  In the background, the teacher was still reading aloud from his book, not noticing the tension growing in the room.  The remaining student who had been trying to pay attention was now focused on the scene in front of him, all thoughts of learning banished from his mind.

 

Richie and his friends shared a smile.  “This is still our first year.  We don’t have pokemon yet.”

 

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Brrrrriiiiing.

 

The hallways erupted with sound as doors slammed open and everyone filed out.  Everyone was so busy trying to get to their next class on time that they hardly noticed the newcomer, struggling to get past them to the principal’s office.  After about four minutes of mad dashing, the bell rang again and the halls were deserted again.

 

A young boy, about 12, hurried toward the door marked “Principal.”  Upon reaching the door, he hesitated, as if trying to convince himself that what he was doing was right.  He knocked on the solid wood softly, and heard some mumbling, followed by a voice.

 

“Come in.”

 

Taking a deep breath, he turned the knob and stepped inside.

 

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The principal was young, very young.  He looked to be about 17 years old.  He had spiked black hair and was wearing the same uniform as the students.  In fact, if he had not been wearing the nameplate that said “Principal Dude,” you would have thought he went to school here.

 

“Miss Hackers!  Are you done with the paperwork yet?  I need them by tomorrow!”  He shouted over to his secretary, an old, frizzled woman, with gray hair pulled back into a bun, who was sitting right next to him.

 

“No you do not, Mr. Dude.  You specifically told me last week that these papers were due in three weeks.  And next time, don’t shout so loud in my ear.  I have gone half deaf in my right ear with you yelling down it every day.”  She replied, eyeing his feet, which had crept up onto the oak table and somehow lost their shoes.

 

“Alright, alright.  You don’t have to be so prickly about it, sheesh.”  Principal Dude sighed, getting up and walking over to the candy bar machine to one corner of his room.  He stuffed in some change and got a Twix bar.  Peeling the wrapper off, he stuck one of the sticks into his mouth.

 

Knock knock.

 

“Mmf well youfm geert thamft mphease?”  He called to his secretary around the mouthful of caramel and cookie.

 

“Come in.”  Ms. Hacker called at the door.  She watched as a thin redheaded boy walked through the frame, looking around the office.  “Yes?  What do you need?”  She asked.

 

“Um, well, I’m kinda new here and, um, I was wondering if I could get a schedule.”  The boy stated, all the while looking around the huge office.  He happened to notice the principal, who was trying unsuccessfully to cram the rest of the Twix into his mouth.

 

“Ah, let’s see.  Have you registered?  Is there an adult with you?”  Ms. Hackers asked, as she had asked countless times before.

 

“Um, yes and no.  My parents and I came here about two weeks ago.  Today is my first official day at this school.”  He responded, still unintentionally staring at the young man in the corner of the room, who had finally managed to shove the whole candy bar in and was now desperately choking on it.  He turned his attention back to the old woman in front of him.  “Er, shouldn’t you try to help him?”

 

“Oh no, he does that all the time.  Oh, and by the way, this is your principal, Mr. Dude.”  She didn’t even look up from work, and thus failed to notice the slightly startled look coming from the young boy’s face.  “I will need your name, last and first.”

 

“Oh, um, Waters, Mick.”  The boy seemed sort of nervous, directing his eyes toward the ground.

 

“Alright, Mick.  Here’s your schedule, a map of the school grounds, three sets of regular school uniforms, one set of gym clothes, and your books, and a manual with everything you need to know about this school.  You will receive your starter pokemon after you have finished the preliminary training.  Right now is 2nd period, you have pokemon grooming.  If you have any questions, feel free to come ask me or just ask any of the staff around campus.”  Ms. Hacker now turned her attention to the blue principle gasping for breath in the corner.  She walked calmly over to him and whacked him upside the head.  He quickly returned to his original color and reached for a glass of water.

 

The last thing Mick heard before closing the door behind him was the sound of breaking glass and several wheezed curses.

 

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Mick looked at the newly printed schedule in front of him.  There were eight classes total, with the required math, english, and science classes, along with his previously selected pokemon classes: grooming, training, TMs & HMs,  battle techniques, and most important, pokemon battling.  He took a look at the school map and hurried towards the Level 1 Pokemon Grooming classroom.  Upon reaching the outside of the room, he took a deep breath, reached for the handle, and stepped inside.

 

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The class was very quiet.  Ash looked around the room; everyone was staring at the sentret in the front, being brushed by their Grooming teacher.  Unlike his 1st period, which was always the noisiest class, the students actually paid attention.  His 1st hour was English, a class in which no one ever bothered trying to behave. Finding it boring and having no apparent relationship at all with pokemon, most of the class just sat around throwing things at each other and talking.  Ramon’s gang and Ash’s company were the two main teams in the class.  The English teacher had gotten so used to their constant bickering that he just let them do whatever they wanted.

 

“…now, the main thing is to hold the brush like this, with the handle resting against the inside of your wrist…”  The middle-aged male teacher continued.  He was showing them the proper way to hold a sentret brush.  Who knew that each pokemon required a different brush to satisfy them?  Suddenly, the door opened and a young, slender boy with bright red hair skirted in.  He had startling blue eyes in a face so pretty that it looked almost girlish.  He stared at the class nervously, walking up to the teacher.

 

“Er, I’m new here.”  He told the breeder, uncomfortably aware that all the boys in the class were staring at him.  “My name is Mick Waters.”

 

“Welcome to the Pokemon Institute, Mick.  I’m sure it will be a pleasure having you here.  Let’s see, my name is Mr. Robbert.  I am your grooming teacher this year.  Now, let’s find you a seat…there.”  He pointed toward front of the room, where there was an empty chair in front of a rather large, brown haired boy.  “That boy there is Ramon.  He will be showing you around the school campus and introducing you to the friendliness of our student body.”  Upon seeing the slightly angry look on Ramon’s face, the teacher gave him a warning glance and showed the newcomer to his seat.

 

Ash watched the new student intently.  There was something different about him and he was going to find out what.  His thoughts shifted however, when he glimpsed Ramon passing the new boy a note.  So, he thought, it seems that Ramon’s already trying to recruit the boy into his gang.  Jeez, can’t he ever take a break?  The kid had barely been here a few minutes and already looked more than a little apprehensive.  No need to add any more pressure on him.

 

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Mick glanced around him, not daring to look behind.  The older boy sitting behind him scared him.  He reread the note that had been passed to him.  “Join my gang or else, new kid.  Meet me after klass and I’l fill you in on the rooles.  You dont wanna no what wat happens to those who dont.”  This was the guy who was supposed to show him around school? 

 

The class passed by surprisingly fast, faster than Mick would have liked, though he did enjoy the lesson.  All too soon, the bell rang, signaling the end of class.  Mick stood up slowly and walked toward the door.  As soon as he stepped outside, he was surrounded by four boys, with Ramon as their leader.

 

Ramon swaggered forward.  “See these here?  These are my buddies.  They can each beat the crap outta ya in a second.  Your pretty face won’t save ya.”  The four boys cracked their knuckles, as if emphasizing what Ramon had just said.  “Now, seeing as you’re new here, I gotta explain the rules to ya.  Me and my gang rule this school.  All the little Level 1’s are ‘fraida us.  So are some of the Level 2’s and 3’s.  Consider yerself lucky.  You’re being given a chance to join us.”  His tone clearly meant that he would not take no for an answer.  Kids in the hall had stopped to see the scene.  They wanted to help the new kid but were all too scared to step up.

 

Mick stood defiantly, looking straight into Ramon’s small, piggy eyes with his own crystal blue ones, “And what if I don’t want to?”

 

Ramon was a little surprised.  Usually, anyone being confronted by like this would have been on the verge of tears, willing to give him anything he wanted.  He sputtered around for words.  “Well, then, um, we’ll make sure that… we’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.” 

 

Mick stood helplessly as the five boys advanced.  He knew that he stood no chance.  His gaze swept around at the audience, meeting several awkward glances and embarrassed shuffles of feet. 

 

Ramon had pulled his arm back, preparing to strike this insolent kid in front of him.  No one had ever dared stand up to him, no one, that is, except them, but this new boy, he was different from the rest.  He did not even know them; in fact, he probably didn’t know anyone at this school.  But that just made things easier.  The new boy was on his own.

 

Mick barely had time to see a smile form on Ramon’s face, before a huge fist swung forward, a fist that he knew he had no time to dodge.

 

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A/N:  Heehee, managed to end it in a cliffhanger.  Pretty mean feat for the first chapter of the first fanfic I’ve ever written.  I suppose you all know who Mick is by now.  Pretty obvious if you ask me.  If you don’t, well, I’m not gonna say anything.  Oh, and I hope I didn’t take anyone else’s idea.  I promise, this all came from my head (well, most of it).  I’ll try to have the next chapter up soon.  See you there.