The Pokémon Academy

Part I – A New Chapter

It happened when Baram caught sight of the Wingull.

The overnight voyage of the S.S. Maria had stretched on with stubborn reluctance, and Baram was present – wide awake, in fact – for every second of it. Unable to find his calm in the dingy, tile-floored accommodations he’d been granted, Baram had instead passed the lengthy nighttime stretch on deck, his arms crossed tiredly at the ship’s edge and his eyes swimming curiously out into the miles and miles of nothing. The hanging moon his only company, he’d spent hours pondering the sea and trying to discern where its rippling waters met and shook hands with the blue-black sky above.

The night passed so slowly that Baram twice entertained the idea that perhaps it might not ever yield its reign, the rest of his life certain to be bathed in the tragic calm, but – just when it seemed to be true – the sun lifted itself onto the horizon, bringing with it the yellows and pinks Baram so loved to see dance over Vermilion waters.

His luggage sagged in exhaustion behind him on a metallic bench, soon joined by a few small children with an older man, presumably their grandfather. The children – two small boys and a girl – were enthusiastically analyzing a map of the sea, the boy on the right passionately improvising a story about pirates and sea monsters to the other two. Baram grinned at this, his eyes fixed still on the sea; childhood was the time of innocence, of imagination and possibility. It was refreshing to glimpse at the world again through childlike lenses.

Kwee! Rising suddenly amidst the steady hum of the S.S. Maria, the high-pitched shriek pulled Baram instantly from his thoughtful daze. Gripping the edge of the boat, he leaned over, his eyes darting in search of the cry’s source. Kwee, Baram watched the Wingull shriek with glee, swooping deftly into the mist of water tossed up by the ship as it pioneered through the sea.

The bird pokémon alternately stretched and arched its brilliant white wings, rising and falling into the refreshing seawater shower, occasionally shaking its feathers in the salty ocean air. Bubbles of carefree happiness shot through Baram’s tired body; the bird’s joy seemed contagious, and – as heavy thoughts of the days past sloughed away for a moment – Baram took his first deep breath in several days. With a shriek, the Wingull darted ahead, playfully racing aside the cruiser’s white walls; without thinking, Baram ran along with it, the wooden deck thumping under his sneakers as he raced to keep up with the symbol of hope.

As he ran, Baram felt curiously close to laughing, and – in fact – he was grinning ear to ear as he ran, the salt from the ocean breeze sticking almost sweetly to his smiling teeth. The bird glanced up at him wryly, amused with his human competitor, and it squealed again as it darted ahead. Baram’s eyes were dancing, hands were trembling, mind was soaring, and heart was thundering. He saw only the sparkling sea and the no-holds-barred-Wingull and a world filled with hope once more.

Which is precisely why Baram didn’t see the pretty blonde girl stepping out of her seat to take a snapshot of the sunrise.

* * *

At all times, Professor Samuel Oak wore a bit of a frown. In his younger days, before he had built any sort of reputation in the science community, he had often been mistakenly perceived as unfriendly. After years and years of providing close guidance to countless trainers and care to leagues of pokémon, he had come to be understood as generally well-intentioned, the tense state of his small mouth a likable idiosyncrasy rather than a sign of disdain. Today, however, Oak was – in fact – frowning.

“Honestly,” he said sternly, rubbing his temples, “Are you always this difficult?”

In front of him, Jupiter stood with her eyes tightly closed, her small arms linked together in stubborn defiance. The professor purposefully drew in a deep breath, expelling a lengthy sigh, and shifted his eyes to Myra Kelly’s notes. The Jigglypuff had been decisively silent during the vocal examination, frustratingly unfocused during the telekinesis experiment, and she presently stood planted like a stone wall, rejecting even the amicable practice of playing with a few paints. He’d hoped the activity might activate the “insatiable curiosity” mentioned in Myra’s notes, but Jupiter would not be moved out of orbit. He scoured Myra’s penmanship for even a hint of how to ignite cooperation with this creature.

His eyes fixed momentarily on a single line, causing him to draw in a sudden breath. Without a word, Oak hurriedly stepped toward a cabinet, ruffling carelessly through its meticulously organized contents. Jupiter allowed one eye to crack open, watching the professor with wary interest. The moment she saw him pull the secret weapon from within, however, her shimmering blue-green eyes shot wide, wide open.

Oak dangled the rice cake before her with the hint of a smile, his voice negotiating in a sing-song tone. “Yummy rice cake, eh Jigglypuff?” he said, “you can have one, or all you like, I simply need you to cooperate. Okay?”

Jupiter glanced uneasily at the rice cake, then shifted her gaze to the paints she’d been so dutifully ignoring. A moment of silence. The Jigglypuff seemed in conflict, while the professor stood in utter hope. Purposefully, she hobbled forward, dipping her hand into the blob of blue paint and stepping toward the canvas.

Oak leaned forward, his mouth agape.

With a glare, the Jigglypuff turned and hurled the blue paint at the hopeful professor, laughing as the rice cakes spilled from his hand and across the white tiles of the lab floor. There was no mistaking it now; though his face looked downward and was partially obscured by dripping blue paint, Samuel Oak most certainly was wearing a frown.

* * *

Fletch tapped his feet restlessly against the old wooden flooring in the small cruise ship bedroom. Light from the rising sun had just finally begun to filter through the small oval window next to the room’s paint-chipped door, giving Fletch his first signal that this ship might finally make it to its destination.

With a sigh, Fletch studied the dimensions of the small bedroom for what seemed like the millionth time, sighting dingy floors and an uncomfortable bed. Despite the room’s less than luxurious demeanor, Fletch had not stepped outside of it since a few moments after the ship’s departure. Though he’d been born and raised directly beside the Vermilion Sea, Fletch Kelly was made quite nervous by the idea of the ocean. The sheer vastness of it overwhelmed him, driving an economy-sized thorn into his focus; Fletch squirmed uncomfortably at the prospect of feeling unfocused.

He glanced at the sheets of papers under the room’s duct-taped desk lamp for the seventh or eighth time, searching for any information about the Pokémon Academy he had not yet taken in.

As a first year, Fletch understood, he would be given a pokémon in a ceremony of sorts, though it was fairly unclear how it was they (whoever they were) would go about choosing his partner. Fletch felt a mix of lightning enthusiasm and bitter anxiety; he’d wanted a pokémon of his very own for so long, and yet so much in the past few weeks had gone so terribly wrong. The wooden floor creaked as Fletch leaned forward and placed his head in his hands.

He hoped they would give him the right pokémon, he hoped the ship would dock soon, and he hoped – wherever he was on the stupid ship – his brother was in better shape than he was.

* * *

Kaeli Evermore winced and glanced irritably upward. Before her, the sun hung obnoxiously in the sky, spilling torrents of light that seemed to catch the sky on fire and, to Kaeli’s chagrin, turn the letter she was reading into an assault weapon against her eyes. Sighing, she folded the letter and tucked it in her backpack, gazing defeatedly out on the horizon; life in Saffron City had rarely asked her to slow down and enjoy the scenery.

For that very reason, however, her sparkling green eyes soon melted into two warm pools of awe, the brilliant mosaic of sunrise hues seeming to strike a harmonious chord in her soul. With a grin, she lifted her backpack onto her knees and pulled out her camera, a gift from her grandmother in honor of her acceptance into the Academy.

Standing, she stepped happily forward into the early morning ocean air, squinting as she adjusted the camera to capture the sunrise just perfectly.

BAM.

With a jolt, Kaeli felt something crash into her right side, sending her thin frame hurtling to the deck. At the last moment, she twisted and stuck her hands out, catching the sun-warmed floor and narrowly saving her head from collision. “What in Ponyta’s blazes!?” she yelled out angrily.

“Oh my, sheesh, I uh… I’m sorry,” a voice beside her stammered.

Pushing herself up and back into a standing pose, Kaeli rubbed her side with one hand and brushed a sweep of her blonde hair from her face with the other. She turned to her attacker, still a bit furious with surprise, and laid her eyes on a quite bewildered Baram Kelly. “What are you, some kind of human wrecking ball?” she asked caustically, dusting off the knees of her capris.

Baram didn’t answer, his eyes having not quite fixed on her just yet, instead gazing strangely out at the hull of the ship.

Great, Kaeli thought to herself, I’ve been tackled by a delirious idiot. She stepped toward him, leaning forward and snapping in front of his face. “Hello, anybody home?” she asked.

He flinched into focus, still panting from his run and the surprise collision. The girl snapping her fingers in front of him had emerald green eyes, he instantly observed, set amidst perfect skin and under long, yellow-blonde hair. He felt the sudden urge to toss himself off the ship entirely. “I, uh… I was chasing a Wingull.”

“You were what?” she asked irritably, then her eyes widened. To Baram’s relief, she broke her critical eye contact with him, sweeping her gaze left and right on the ship around her. “Where the heck’s my camera?”

Feeling awkward, Baram silently lifted himself up, his shaking feet finding solid footing against the wooden panels of the deck. After watching her search for a minute or so, he started glancing around too. He wasn’t certain what he was really looking for, and he was even less certain he was looking for anything at all; rather, he realized, he was glancing around so as not to anger the beautiful blonde girl any further. He propped up a nearby trashcan, looking underneath it, then set it back down. When he looked up, the girl was staring at him with a mix of amusement and irritation.

“You find it under there, genius?” she asked with half a laugh, then she turned and started looking again. After a short moment, however, she gasped, a sound Baram had been afraid to hear, and he looked up to see her clutching the edge of the ship, her head of blonde hair absent from view.

Like a child whose mother had just found her broken vase, he tiptoed dutifully to the wall of the deck with her, glancing down and spotting the silver camera floating amidst the blue-green waters below. It was flashing a desperate cry for help as the ocean waters seeped into its electronic crevasses. The silence was deafening.

“It’s super effective,” Baram joked. Taken aback, the girl glanced up at him with a kind of wild disbelief. He discovered what it felt like to utterly hate oneself.

Just as suddenly as she’d burst into Baram’s life, Kaeli Evermore broke into laughter, her green eyes squeezing tightly shut as she shook her head and sucked in a few breaths of air freshly rising off the salty sea. Baram grinned warily, wondering momentarily if she might be preparing to sneak-attack tackle him off the S.S. Maria and after her camera. When he saw her wipe tears from her laughing face, however, he chuckled a bit too. Baram liked her laugh.

After the moment had passed, she exhaled tiredly. She glanced sideways at him, “You headed to the Academy too, bowling ball?”

He grinned a little, nodding. “Yeah.” It was all he could really manage to say.

She cast her eyes downward to the water again. “Well, I guess I can count on you to buy me another camera then, right? When you get the chance?”

“Sure, yeah,” he nodded, a bit too emphatically. He probably would’ve undergone a pretty risky surgery to hand her a camera right then and there.

She smiled, her white teeth catching the sun and illuminating something deep within Baram’s chest. He couldn’t see for certain, but he sensed within him were streaks of yellow and pink far brighter than any ocean sunrise could ever yield. A moment of silence rested between them, both of them now gazing out at the water and the skyline, both unwittingly considering the notions of destiny and tomorrow.

Kaeli broke the silence first, standing up from the wall and stretching her arms in the warm sunshine. She glanced at Baram with a strange smile, extending a hand. “I’m Kaeli, by the way.”

“Oh,” he said, shuffling awkwardly into a standing position himself. He grabbed her hand, shaking it a bit too firmly, as if she were Lieutenant Surge or something. He laughed nervously. “My name is Baram.”

He paused for a moment, then added with a half-hearted smile: “Baram Anderson.”

* * *

“All right,” Russell Davis said in his most authoritative voice, “welcome to the Johto region, and welcome to Olivine City.” He studied the cluster of young people standing in front of him. They were, he noted with a hint of a smile, unmistakably first-years. Gazing at the sea harbor around them with a kind of naïve wonder, they avoided one another’s gaze like the plague, and they hung on his every word.

“I’m Russell,” he spoke again, becoming suddenly aware of the awkwardness of his hands. He banished them to the pockets of his khaki shorts, continuing. “I’m a second-year at the Academy and I’ll be the RA for the first-year boys.” Now he noticed the strangeness of his voice, the only noise other than the sea sweeping softly behind them, as the five first-years stood silent. “That just means I’ll be living in the same floor community as them and helping explain the ins and outs of life at the Academy.” Another silence; Russell could not wait to be back at Ecruteak. “The, uh… the ladies will have an RA named Bonnie.”

At the far right of the group, Fletch Kelly was having an uncharacteristically difficult time listening to their guide’s words. His sharp, focused eyes were fixed tightly on the sea freshly behind them. It was only just dawning on him the worlds of distance that now seemed to rest between him and Vermilion City, although he took some comfort in the warm breeze, which seemed somehow to have swept its way from the Vermilion shore to console his worries. He glanced for a moment at Baram, whose dreamy gaze shot in the same direction. For just a moment, the brothers shared meaningful eye contact, then darted their eyes quickly forward.

“So, uh… well, I guess that’s it for right now,” Russell said, biting his lip. He hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt; talking in front of people made him feel uneasy. “Are there, uh…any questions?” There was a second of complete stillness, not a sound or a movement among them, broken finally by the boy in the middle, who shot his hand in the air. “Yes?”

“You said your name is Russell?” the boy spoke like a flood, running his hands nervously through his messy beige-brown hair, “What made you decide on the Academy? How is it that the pokémon pairing process works? And will we be meeting our professors anytime soon? And what about the –“

Great, Russell thought. “Whoa, whoa,” he said, holding his hands up, “There’ll be plenty of time for questions along the way. We’ve got a little trek on our hands at the moment. But, uh, what’s your na –“

“David,” the boy said with a nod, “David Walls.” He stepped forward a step, seemingly untroubled by the four pairs of eyes fixed curiously on him.

Russell glanced at the others, and then at David. He smiled. “All right, David, let’s talk on the way to Ecruteak.”

* * *

Myra Kelly stood on the shoreline of Vermilion City, watching the horizon as though it might bring her boys home after all. In the waters ahead, she sighted a pokémon deftly rollicking through violet-hued waves. Teague, the Vaporeon she’d started her journey with all those years ago, stepped lithely from the warm evening sea, stopping and resting knowingly just beside her sorrow-filled master.

Myra rushed a hand over the pokémon’s soft-slick head, taking comfort in the pokémon’s familiar energy, and she felt tears well in her eyes. She was grateful Teague had come back from her journey into the sea, bringing positive reports regarding the Relicanth repopulation project to boot. The timing, Myra thought to herself, was spot-on; she’d needed her old friend.

From Diglett’s Cave far above them and to the left, Lieutenant Surge stood watching the two of them closely. Beside him, Jovu purred as Surge ruffled the fur under the chin, her eyes sparking with affection. The boys were safe now, Surge knew, but Myra’s safety was his personal concern. The police were subject to failure, he felt. As he watched Myra’s thick brown hair billow in the wind, he reminded himself that – in this matter – failure was no option at all.

* * *

In the matter of looking cool while carrying his luggage, Baram was having a rough go. His suitcase, missing a wheel and a pocket and a zipper or two, was familiar and friendly, but terrible; it had been his father’s before he had gone, and Baram found himself oddly attached to it. He heaved deep, purposeful breaths as he hiked with the group towards Ecruteak City, the dank aroma of a nearby Miltank farm offering no relief whatsoever.

Ahead of him, the kid named David continued grilling their guide regarding the workings of the Academy. Baram had made some effort to listen in on the information, but David’s relentless pursuit of the most meticulous details wearied him quickly. If anything, Russell seemed happy to have the distraction of questions, his voice meeting each question with confident and friendly response.

“Jeez,” Kaeli grumbled, her suitcase snagged on a tree branch that pervaded the otherwise clean dirt path. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to train for the journey.” Grunting, she heaved the suitcase over the tree branch and shot Baram a goofy smile. He laughed awkwardly.

“I’m gonna come out here to run,” the girl next to Baram said, eyeing the scenery with admiration. She was the sporty type, Baram noticed immediately, the warm brown skin of her arms flowing tightly over well-tended muscles. She wore run-ready sneakers and an outfit that somewhat resembled a soccer uniform. This girl was also having significantly less trouble with two bags than he was with one, Baram observed with a frown.

“And what about the pokémon selection process?” David asked a few steps ahead, “How exactly is it that they choose a pokémon for each of the first-years?”

“That’s a good question,” Russell said with a laugh, “and the truth is that no one knows for sure.” Noting David’s look of concern, he added, “They’ve got a knack for getting it right, though. I’ve never known of anybody at the Academy who didn’t love the pokémon they got in the first year.”

“What’d you get?” David asked the moment Russell’s sentence concluded, and Baram was startled to hear a moment of silence hang between the two. He glanced up, and spotted Russell’s hands balling into fists.

“I, uh… I got a Charmander,” he said. His voice was strangely shaky. “But I don’t have him anymore.” To Baram’s – and probably Russell’s – relief, David pushed the matter no further. He shot a glance in Fletch’s direction, and he discovered his brother had disappeared from the group, and so had Kaeli.

Spinning his head backwards, he spotted them, Kaeli having snagged her suitcase yet again, and Fletch having stopped to help her heave it over. The two of them exchanged smiles; Baram frowned.

* * *

“This is the Pokémon Academy,” Russell said breathily, gesturing toward an expansive brick building set against a soft orange-purple sky. Composed of a large center and two lengthy wings, the building seemed to extend its arms and welcome them inward. Fletch’s eyes, however, were fixed firmly on the concrete battlefields set behind and to the right of the Academy, presently vacant but glimmering with countless battles past waged. His mouth cracked into an excited smile.

“All right, I know you’re getting tired,” Russell said, sizing up the weary group of five, “so here’s how it goes. Baram, David, and Fletcher will come with me, and Kaeli and Corah will go with Bonnie.” As he said her name, he gestured behind him, where a girl with white-blonde hair stood twisting her hair and staring at the screen of her cell phone.

Hearing her name, she sparked to life, snapping her phone shut and – in quite a high-pitched voice – saying in between smacks of bubble gum, “Hi there, ladies! My name is Bonnie; welcome to the Academy!” Kaeli winced a bit, Fletch noticed, and the two exchanged short grins. As Russell and Bonnie started stepping toward the Academy, Fletch gave the battlefields a goodbye glance. “I’ll see you when I’ve got a pokémon,” he wanted to murmur.

The moment the weary group of students stepped past the threshold of the Academy’s entrance, Fletch heard them heave audible sighs of relief. Stepping into a wave of sweet air-conditioning, he knew why, and he quietly added his to the chorus of thankful voices. Just ahead, Fletch noticed, was a cafeteria, populated by pleasant wooden tables and chairs. His stomach growled at the thought of a good meal, so he forced himself to focus on other elements of his surroundings. The floor was a forest green ceramic tile, he made himself observe, and – at both edges of this entrance – there were doors leading to hallways, the wings he’d noticed earlier. It was working, Fletch realized with a smile, for once grateful for his obsessive attention to detail.

“Students live in the West Wing of the Academy,” Russell said with a smile, gesturing toward the left of the entrance. “First-year students live in double bedrooms on the third floor, with an RA at the end of the hall,” he said, smiling and taking a small bow, “second-years are on the second floor in suites, and third-years are on the first floor in suites.”

“Did you say double bedrooms?” the noisy kid – David, Fletch remembered – piped up. “So we’re going to have roommates?”

Russell grinned, “Yep. Each of you has been assigned a roommate from a different region of the world.” He was met with blank stares. “So…your ship came from Kanto, so most of you are from there; you’ll be assigned to live with roommates from Johto and Unova and the like.”

Fletch glanced toward Baram, who was gazing off as usual. Thinking, he felt his eyebrows furrow; would they have set it up so he’d be living with his brother?

“So who’s my roommate gonna be?” David asked, visibly enthused.

“Well, there’s only one way you find out here at the Academy.” He stepped ahead and pushed open the door to the West Wing, and the nervous Academy first-years followed.

* * *

“All right,” Russell murmured to himself, scanning the clipboard in his hands. Baram shifted uneasily, the third floor boys’ wing seemingly less in touch with the air-conditioner downstairs. He glanced backward, spotting the heavy metal door that required male key card access; he had thought the idea of Kaeli living right across the hall was too good to be true. His eyes focused for a moment on Fletch, and Baram felt a stab of irritation in his stomach, followed by worse – a wave of guilt.

“Fletcher,” Russell called, startling Baram – who felt as though he’d been caught envying his twin – as well as Fletch. “You’ll be living here in 3B, Fletch,” Russell said with a grin. “We’ll have our first floor meeting tomorrow morning at 8; until then, feel free to get settled in and get acquainted with your roommate Cecil!”

A little uncomfortable with even this amount of attention, Fletch shuffled to the door, sliding in the key card Russell handed him, and he pushed open the door. The lights were off, but the bed against the window was made with a black blanket and an electric green pillow. “Looks like he stepped out,” Fletch said with small grin, and he awkwardly plunged his hand into Russell’s for a handshake, “Thanks for the help, Russell.”

Watching the door close behind Fletch, Baram felt a bit disappointed; he had hoped the Academy might allow the brothers to share a room, a solitary space where they could be completely themselves. Feeling increasingly homesick, he watched as the ever-questioning David was given his room assignment in 3D, his roommate – a boy named Arnie – stepping out shyly and saying hurried hellos. As the door to 3D shut behind the new roommates, Baram could hear David firing questions left and right, with Arnie’s murmurs all but drowned out.

“And you, Baram,” Russell said a bit softly, “are in 3E, which means we’re neighbors!” He smiled and clapped Baram on the back; unsure of how to respond, Baram chuckled halfheartedly. “Your roommate is named… Benjamin. Oh wait! He prefers Benji. He’s from Azalea Town here in Johto.” Russell handed Baram his keycard, his photo – fake sun-streaks included – smiling up at him.

Baram nodded with a grin of acknowledgment and slid the card into the door, pulling the handle down.

“Baram,” Russell said suddenly, halting Baram from stepping into his room.

“Yeah?” Baram responded, meeting his RA’s gaze and sensing – if he was not mistaken – tremendous compassion. “What’s up?”

“It’s just…” the young man looked down for a second, sighing, “I just wanted you to know it’s okay to be homesick. I felt it too, at the beginning, and I promise it gets better as you make friends and start the year here.” He added, “The Academy’ll be like home.”

For once feeling honest and seen and understood, Baram grinned instead of crying, and – unsure of what else to do – he clapped Russell on the back. “Thanks, Russ.” With that, Baram pushed open the door and stepped – for the first time – into 3E.

* * *

Ever the meticulous being, Fletch immediately unzipped his suitcase and set about creating his environment, placing neatly folded clothes in his dresser drawers, tomes on pokémon battling strategies on the shelf above his desk, and setting up his bed perfectly. Just as he started placing pens and pencils into the top drawer of his desk, he heard his bedroom door click and swing open.

“Whoa!” the boy said under a series of carefully spiked jet-black hairs, his blue eyes momentarily widened with surprise. He exhaled, then laughed, “Looks like my roomie moved in, huh?”

“Looks like it,” Fletch said, standing and shaking his hand, “Fletch Newcastle.” The name rolled off his tongue like he’d been saying it his entire life.

“Cecil Maverik,” said his roommate, crunching a potato chip immediately afterward. “I moved in earlier today, and I’ve been lounging around here all day, but I got crazy hungry, so I went for some chips.”

“I just got here a few minutes ago,” Fletch said, setting the last of his school supplies into the drawer and shoving the empty suitcase under his bed.

“No joke?” Cecil said, eyeing first his own unpacked suitcase then eyeing Fletch’s fully arranged side.

Fletch grinned, “Just something I do. I can’t settle down until I’ve lined out the details and gotten tasks squared away. My mom says it’s tunnel vision.”

“Huh,” the boy said, shoving a few chips into his mouth (and spilling a few crumbs, Fletch noticed). “So where are you from, Fletch?”

“Snowpoint City,” Fletch responded casually, and – recognizing Cecil’s surprise – he added, “I know. I’m gonna love the weather around here.”

“No joke!” Cecil exclaimed, stuffing the empty chip bag down the side of his bed. Fletch tried not to flinch as he heard it smack against the tile floor. “Well I’m from Goldenrod, just a few minutes’ walk from here.”

“Cool,” was all Fletch could think to say. He lifted himself up and exhaled as he sat amidst is new home.

“What is it you wanna do with your life, Fletch?” Cecil asked, the profound question seeming a bit abrupt to its recipient.

“Well,” Fletch said, thinking how best to say what was on his mind, “I want to be a Pokémon Master. You know, a really good trainer.”

He expected Cecil to chuckle at him, but he heard only silence. He glanced at his roommate, recognizing an expression somewhere between excitement and potential aggression. “So you’re an ambitious trainer, eh Fletch?”

Fletch nodded, unsure of what to expect. “I guess you could say that.”

“Good,” Cecil said, his thick black eyebrows still furrowed a bit in study of his roommate, “I’m ambitious too. We will keep each other in check, make sure we’re on track to keep getting stronger.”

Fletch’s mouth twisted into a smile, “Kind of like…friendly rivals.”

“Yeah,” Cecil said with a grin, sweeping potato crumbs off his bed and onto the floor, “Roommates and friendly rivals.”

* * *

The night grew later and later, Baram knew, but he was having trouble convincing himself to go to sleep. In his hand, he studied the grass blade Jupiter had given him before she’d been taken away, the very one she’d used to topple a pokémon exponentially larger than herself and bring Baram his first victory. He propped it carefully on his desk, its lush green tendrils catching the light, and he sighed; all that felt lifetimes ago now. Sitting in this room alone, his roommate nowhere to be seen, Baram felt miles and miles from anything familiar, save for the grass blade and the salt sea aroma wafting off of his blankets.

Sitting cross-legged, Baram studied the book-crammed shelf of his long-absent roommate, observing – for the first time since stepping into the room three hours ago – the titles of said books. “Cataloged Journal of Pokémon Behavior,” Baram read aloud, and, “Environmental Impact on Evolution.” The books – every one of them science-related – were a strangely comforting sight for Baram, reminiscent of his mother’s own collection back at home. He yearned a little bit to stand up and nose through one, perhaps to find something Myra’d find fascinating, but the thought of his roommate catching him doing so left him motionless.

With a crash, the door to Baram’s room swung open, and through it came bustling a lanky figure in muddy rainboots, a dirty white labcoat, and a shock of seafoam green hair. “Phosphoric levels in the mud samples around the forested area are consistent with the hypothesis indicating the presence of Aipom,” he said, speaking into a damp, gray recorder, “which is strange, given their predilection for more mountainous areas in Johto.”

Uncertain of what to do, Baram simply watched his roommate in fascination as he kicked of his boots, slung off his jacket, and sat at his desk, scribbling furiously. “All of which is entirely inconclusive, given that this is day one of my observation of this area, but – also – entirely worthy of note.” With a click, he turned off the recorder and tossed it down, glancing back and forth at his notes for a solid minute or two. The silence, Baram thought, was awkward.

At once, Benji turned around, pushing his thick-framed glasses against his face, and smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, I get a little bit carried away,” he murmured, “I’m Benji.”

Baram smiled, stretching across to shake his hand, “I’m Baram. And no worries, my mom’s into science, so…”

“Oh really?” Benji interrupted enthusiastically, “is she a scientist? Anyone noteworthy!?”

Baram’s stomach sank; he had almost broken character already. According to the Vermilion City police force, his mother was a clerk at the aquatic museum in Slateport City. “Not a scientist, per se,” Baram shrugged, “she works at a museum regarding aquatic environments, though, and she loves it.”

“Compelling stuff,” Benji said, sounding a bit disappointed, but his face changed when he noticed the mud he tracked in. “Oh, man – I’m sorry. You must be thinking you got stuck with a bizarre specimen, huh?”

Baram eyed the mud tracks, laughing, “No. I think it’s pretty cool that you seem to like science so much. I can dig it.”

“Dig it,” Benji repeated the phrase, liking it, “well most of the kids I’ve met in my life so far don’t seem to ‘dig it,’ so I guess I lucked out roommate-wise.” He grinned, his green eyes sparkling behind raindrops on the lenses of his glasses. Baram grinned back. “Oh man, it’s late!” Benji said, shedding his muddy attire and slipping under his blanket. “I won’t be out at all hours – I just had to get the lay of the land,” he explained, “good night, roomie.”

“Night, Benji,” Baram said. He stepped across the room, shedding the pants he’d been wearing for two days as he did so. And as he flicked off the light for the night, Baram smiled, for a glimmer of hope had entered into the darkness, and he figured it could only grow from there.