In Memory of Leafy (wip)

OOC: I’m setting up a whole interlacing plot in all my stories, and it will end with the battle to end all battles. Guess who will be the head of the “bad guys”?

STILL NOT DONE

___ Characters, capturing Shroomish and Aron
Also, first part is depressing, written after my dog was hit by a car… sorry.
Also (2), I know that Shroomish wasn’t involved much, but it is a long(er) story…

Chris was in a great mood. He just got “ungrounded” yesterday, and was going to start his journey today. He checked his backpack.

“Tarp?” his mom asked, holding a checklist.

“Yep,” Chris replied.

“Pot, pan, plate, ladle?”

Chris rummaged through his backpack, “yes, yes, yes, and yes.”

“Do you have utensils, food, change of clothes, sleeping bag?”

“All of them. I told you I had packed my bag good, mom,” Chris answered, beaming with pride. “I’ll be a legend next time this year. I’ll beat the elite four next time you see me. And then, I’ll beat all three Johnson siblings, and catch a legendary, and maybe even be the best ever!”

Sarah Rosendale smiled at her only son’s eagerness in going on his journey. She knew how it felt, she had went on one as well when she was ten, only to become discouraged and quit after losing to the 1st gym leader a third time.

“…And it’ll all be with my Chikorita. I named him Leafy yesterday. And he‘s gonna battle, and win, and battle more, and win more…” Chris finished, bringing his mother to reality. She glanced at her son. He was small for his age, about four feet and six inches tall, and weighing sixty pounds. His features were a mix between Sarah herself, and her estranged husband. Chris got her piercing blue eyes and thin lips, and his blonde hair and snub nose. He was wearing his favorite clothes, a purple t-shirt and blue jeans that were getting a bit small on him. A blue beanie sat on his long hair.

“I’ll see you off,” his mom said, cuting off the string of nonsense escaping from her son’s mouth.
“Okay,” Chris replied, putting his backpack on his back, and lacing up his shoes. They walked together to the end of their yard. “I forgot Leafy!” Chris yelled, running back to the house. His mother smiled, and waited five minutes before returning to the front door. “Have him!” Chris yelled, holding the Pokeball over his head. He walked towards his mother and gave her a hug. “Bye mom,” he said, clutching her close.

“Bye Chris,” his mom replied, fighting back tears.

And with that, Chris left to start on his journey.

He hadn’t even been walking long enough to approach the city limits when he came across another trainer. This boy looked a lot older than Chris, and about a foot taller. Chris started to edge around the older boy, hoping he wouldn’t notice him. “Hey!” The boy yelled.

”What?” Chris asked, playing dumb, and still inching away.

“”Want to battle?” The boy asked.

“Um, no. Not really.” Chris answered.

“You have to. It’s a new rule.”

“Since when?”
“Since I said I’d steal your Pokemon if you don’t battle me. I’ve got to train my Luxio, and you seem easy. Or you could just hand them to me…”

“Fine, I’ll battle you,” Chris answered, his voice quivering. He really hoped the boy wouldn’t hurt him.

“Go Luxio!” The boy called out, pulling a Pokeball out of the pocket of his baggy sweatshirt. He tossed the ball towards the ground like he was pitching a baseball, and it opened against the ground. A small Luxio popped out of the red flash of light.

“Go Leafy!” Chris called out, unclipping his Chikorita’s poke ball from his belt loop.

“Leafy! What kind of name is that. What are you, four? My god that’s a stupid name,” the older boy taunted, “Tell you what, I’ll let you make the first move, because I’m being so generous.”

“No,” Chris said, tears streaming down his face, “it would be generous to let me go and leave me alone.”

“Well, I’m not that generous,” the boy answered back, “and since you didn’t want to go first, I guess I will. Luxio! Use Thunder!” A rumbling sound shook the air, and Luxio’s body tensed up, as it prepared to land the strong electric attack. The pent-up electricity shot from Luxio, knocking Leafy, and Chris, to the ground.

“Leafy, use tackle!” Chris yelled. “Get up! You can do it.” The Chikorita struggled to its feet, and started to run towards the opposing Luxio.

”Tackle, huh? You really do suck at this. What a newbie. Use bite when it gets close. Bite as hard as you can!” The Luxio definitely listened to it’s masters command. It bit Leafy, and bit down hard. The poor Chikorita howled in pain, the first time either boy had seen a Pokemon do that. With that hard bite, Leafy fainted.

“I win!” the older boy yelled, “You suck!”

“Can you help? Leafy’s bleeding. It looks hurt really bad.” Chris choked out.

“It’s your own fault,” the older boy snorted, “you shouldn’t have agreed to battle me. I’ve got to go. Maybe I’ll see you again some time.”

Chris looked as the kid walked away. He was so angry right now, that he took a rock and took aim at the older boy. He stopped himself in time, realizing how foolish that throwing the rock at the boy would be, and threw it at the house they had been battling near’s front window instead. Shouldn’t have done that either, he thought to himself. He looked down at his Chikorita. The poor thing was obviously in a lot of pain. Chris ripped the sleeve off of his favorite shirt, and tried to stop the blood flow. But he was no doctor, just a ten year kid.

A man walked out of the house. “I had been asleep. Why’d you wake me up? What the hell do you think you’re doing to my hou…” he started to yell, but stopped when he noticed the pokemon. “Oh my god. I’ll drive you to the Pokemon Center.”

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A few hours later, Chris, his mom, and Mr. Niguen, the man whose window Chris had broken, were sitting in front of the intensive care unit of the Pokemon Center. Chris was pacing back and forth across the room, waiting for the doctor’s verdict. Just when he was about to scream, a surgeon walked out of the operating room.

“How’s Leafy?” Chris asked, fighting back tears.

“Not good, I’m afraid,” the doctor replied. “He lost a lot of blood, and had all the muscle torn off on the bottom of his right front paw. I need to prepare you for this: Leafy won’t not make it.”

With this, Chris couldn’t hold back any longer. Tears flowed down his face as he sputtered out words. “He can’t die. He’s brand new. It’s not fair. I hate that kid. It’s my fault. I should have let that kid have him.

“It’s time to say last goodbyes, if you want to, Chris,” the doctor solemnly stated.

Chris and his mother walked into the hospital room. His mother went first. “Oh, god,” she said, “I barely knew you, and I feel so awful. If I hadn’t grounded Chris… I’ll… leave you alone.”

Chris knelt down next to his companion. “Leafy, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for no trying to run,. I’m sorry for not doing something different, I’m sorry. I’ve only known you for three weeks, and I will cherish every second of it.” Chris broke out crying. Leafy’s last actions were to reach out and lick Chris on the face,
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Officer Mecham leaned in close to Chris, “I know this is hard, but I need you to tell me exactly what happened that day. Let’s start easy: what did the boy look like?”

Chris frowned, it had been a week. And the memory of the whole thing was still fresh in his mind. “He had brown hair brushed over his eyes, and a green hoodie on. I’m sorry I don’t remember more, I was more focused on the battle with his… his…” Chris choked up.

“His what?” The police man asked.

“Luxio,” Chris managed to get out.

“Why did you agree to battle?”

“He said he’d… he’d steal my Pokemon if I didn’t battle him. He said he needed to train his new Pokemon.”

“Okay,” Officer Mecham sighed. He kid obviously knew almost nothing, and was clearly distraught by the whole situation. We might need you if we catch him.”

“You mean we might not catch him?”

“I’m not guaranteeing anything.”

“I hate this. You’re so pathetic that you can’t catch a fifteen year old?”

“This isn’t like TV kid. Sometimes the bad guys win.”
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Four Years Later
“So to sum things up, the cause of the Kanto wars of 1866 can be traced back to the actions taken by Axel Sarif many years earlier,” Chris’s history teacher, Mr. Anderson, droned on.

Chris sighed, how could someone so young be so boring? He was asleep in his back-row desk, his head propped-up on his elbow, so at first glance, it might look like he was paying attention. The chime of the school bell brought him to attention. “Your homework tonight is to read chapter twelve, students, and remember, your field trip permission forms are due tomorrow at the absolute latest.”

Chris aimlessly filed out of the classroom, along with thirty other students, he had made his way into the hall when Mr. Anderson tapped him on the shoulder. “Chris, you are the only student in the class who hasn’t turned in their permission slip.”

Chris looked up at his teacher. “I don’t really want to go.”

“Why not. A trip to the safari zone would be fun. After you go on the thirty minute tour, you can roam around the safari zone, and try your hand at catching a Pokemon of your own. Have you ever had a Pokemon?” Mr. Anderson asked, thinking it to be an innocent question.

“I had a Chikorita,” Chris answered. The sullen look on his face convinced the teacher not to press any farther.

Mr. Anderson handed Chris another permission slip, “think about it. If it’s a yes, hand the signed permission slip to me by the end of first period,”

“Okay,” Chris answered, more to stop the conversation than as actual agreement, “I’ll think about it.” Chris shoved the new copy of the permission slip into his backpack, resisting the urge to crumple it up. He walked through the hallway and on to the bus.

Chris stepped onto the bus, and got worried. Tad was sick today, and he didn’t like anyone else on the bus very much. The statement “He hates the world, and the world hates him right back” holds true for Chris. There were about four seats open, two by the druggies in the back, one by the Juniors in the middle, and another by the popular freshmen up front. Chris stood in the front, making up his mind, when the bus driver asked, “are you gonna sit down, or are we gonna stand here all day?”

Chris decided on the lesser of the evils, and sat next to a kid who talked about how he’d gotten “soooo high last night,” for the entire fifteen minute bus ride.

After listening to the kid for twelve minutes, Chris couldn’t take it. His house was about three blocks away, so Chris got off at the third stop. I needed the exercise anyways, Chris thought to himself. Besides, he liked being alone, it helped him think. What homework do I have? Chris pondered, walking himself through his schedule, Math and History. No big deal. The teacher doesn’t ever check math homework, and History is after lunch. Oh, and to get the permission slip signed. If I’m going to go.

Chris stopped. He couldn’t believe he was thinking about going. He hadn’t been around Pokemon since that day four years ago. Did he really want to go to the safari zone? I’ll sleep on it, he told himself.

Chris trudged along until he made it to his house. He rang the doorbell.

“He-hello,” Tad answered in the most pathetic voice he could muster.

“Tad, I know you’re not sick, and you know it’s me. Let me in!” Chris said, ready to knock on the door again.

“Fine, fine. Don’t have a cow, jeeze,” Tad responded, opening the door all the way. “By the way, it’s your turn to watch Karen while mom’s at work.”

“Why me? You’ve done nothing all day,” Chris argued.

Tad faked a cough, “I’m sick, remember.”

“Fine. I’ll watch her. Shouldn’t she be going down for a nap soon, anyways?”

“She should, but she slept all morning. Good luck! I’ll be playing Xbox in the basement,” Tad said with a smile.

Chris’s mother walked down the stairs, and started to walk out the door, “Bye, boys. Be good, and look after your sister.” She stared straight at Tad, “Both of you.”

Tad whined, “But I’m sick, remember?”

“If you were well enough to play Xbox for six hours today, you’re well enough to watch Karen. Now I’ve really got to go, I’m going to be late.” With that, Chris’s mom closed the door, and walked to the car.

Chris looked around his house. A lot had changed since he last had a Pokemon. His mom ended up making friends with Mr. Niguen, the man who helped Chris out, and turned out to also be a single parent. They dated for about a year, and got married three years ago. After the wedding, Chris and his mom moved in with the Niguen’s. He’d already been good friends with Tad, so when Karen was born a year later, he didn’t mind giving up a room much. He looked around the house. His whole life was different then when Leafy died, maybe it would be alright to go to the safari zone.

“Wait, mom!” He yelled out the door, just in time.

“What is it, Chris?” She asked.

“Could you sign my permission slip?”

 

WHY YES, IT HAS TAKEN ME 4 MONTHS TO GET THIS MUCH UP.

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Chapter 2
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Chris walked off of the morning bus, and trudged to Mr. Anderson’s room. Chris took three deep breaths, last chance to stay at school, Chris thought to himself, Oh well, it’s better than sitting through school. He knocked on the door, and walked in. “Mr. Anderson?” Chris asked, looking around the room. He spotted the lanky teacher in the corner, and walked towards him, “I got the permission slip signed.”

“So you decided to come with us?” His teacher asked.

“Yeah, it seemed okay.”

“Good. After homeroom we will meet up in the front hallway.”

Chris said goodbye to Mr. Anderson, and walked towards homeroom. On the way their, he stopped at Tad’s locker. “I decided to go on the fieldtrip,” he told his step-brother.

“Well I knew that. Didn’t you decide that yesterday?” Tad asked, putting down his backpack.

“I could have not turned in my permission slip, but now I’m going for sure.”

“That’s good. I’m glad that you decided to do something with Pokemon again.” Tad said, starting to walk away, “my homeroom’s at the other side of the school. I’ll talk with you when we go on the trip.”

“Later Tad,” Chris called out, heading to his homeroom.

Homeroom was the longest fifteen minutes of Chris’s life. He spent the entire time anxiously looking at the clock. This takes longer than history class, Chris thought to himself. He glanced around the room. The kid to his left was sending somebody a text message, and the girl on his right was sleeping. Nobody was paying any attention to the school news on the television. He stared out the window and saw a flock of Starlys chirping. A few more minutes of watching the bird Pokemon and the bell rang.

“Thank god,” Chris said to the kid next to him, “I thought that would never end.” Without waiting for a reply, Chris got up and walked to the front hallway.

When he got up there, Chris searched through the thirty or so students to find a kid he would want to hang out with. Seeing no one, Chris stood in the corner, waiting for Mr. Anderson to take attendance. Chris had heard from Tad that the other teacher, Mr. Martin, wore full Safari gear to their trip as a joke. He smiled, Mr. Anderson wasn’t fun like that, he’s probably taking too long by lecturing some kid in the hallway.

Finally, four minutes late, Mr. Anderson made it to the front hallway. “Welcome, class,” he said, gathering everyone’s attention, “As you are probably well aware, we are going on an eight hour excursion into the safari zone. It will take an hour to get there, and an hour to get back home. Once we arrive at the safari zone, I expect all of you to be on your best behavior. Be nice to your tour guide, the tour is only an hour and a half. Give him the same amount of attention you would give me.”

Chris laughed to himself. Did Mr. Anderson know that almost nobody paid any attention to him?

“I’ll assign groups now for when we take the tour. Stay on your best behavior.”

“Group one will include Tom Ashley, Mari Kipp, Jose Quincy, Alvin Lewis, and Carla O’Malley.” Mr. Anderson looked up from his sheet of paper, “Group two will include Henry Kilgore, Sandy Johnson, Amy Johnson, Chris Rosendale, and Roland Xiang.”

From this point, Chris tuned out Mr. Anderson, and started to analyze the students he was with. Henry was on the football team, and had about a hundred pounds on Chris. He was a jerk, but generally left Chris alone. Sandy and Amy were identical twins, but different personalities. One of them was snaky, while the other was shy. Chris couldn’t tell anyone which girl was which, because truthfully, he couldn’t tell them apart. Roland was the closest thing Chris had to a friend in this class, but was one of the weirdest kids Chris new. Roland loved to collect random trivia on Pokemon.

While Chris had been thinking, Mr. Anderson finished calling off the groups, “…and Danny Schwarz. Okay, students, get with your groups and lets head on the bus. We’ll have the groups one through three go catch Pokemon first, while groups four through six will start with the tour. Lets get on the bus.”

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Chapter 3
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Chris stepped off of the bus and into the entrance building. He and his classmates not starting with a tour waited in a line too receive their Safari balls. Sitting in the front of the bus, Chris was close to the front of the line. He stepped up to the counter and grabbed a bag containing safari balls. While Chris was waiting with the other students, Mr. Anderson stood up.

“Attention everyone.” he said loudly, drawing everyone’s eyes towards the young teacher. Once he saw everyone was focused, Mr. Anderson smiled. “First, I’d like to say: welcome to the safari zone! I hope you all have a good time. But there are some rules to lay down first. The first rule is to listen to any park rangers or other officials you might see. Secondly, don’t leave marked trails, even in pursuit of a Pokemon. Third, leave everything exactly how you find it. This means no littering, no breaking branches, no peeling bark. And fourth, have fun! Once you have the balls, you can go.”

The students looked at each other excitedly, milling around amongst themselves. Mr. Anderson spoke up, “What are you waiting for,” he said with a smile, “Go go go!”

Chris walked out from the building and into the safari zone feeling chipper. He had made a conscious decision to try to catch a Pokemon during the trip, not realizing how hard it was. Chris walked to the forested area of the zone. The trees’ shade offered relief from the noontime sun, and a good amount of Pokemon. Trudging through the thick overgrowth, Chris came across a Shroomish. He threw a Pokeball right away, which was easily broken out of by the tiny Pokemon. It started to hop away, and Chris scooped up a ball of dirt from the forest floor, and chased after it. Chris worked on keeping pace with the small Pokemon, which may have been slow, but moved quickly through the dense forest floor, Not getting any clearer shot anytime soon, Chris threw mud at the mushroom Pokemon. The Shroomish stopped, looked at Chris, and scurried away again. Chris looked at the Pokemon, wiped sweat off of his brow, and groaned as he jogged towards it again. He had completely lost the Shroomish, and the trail at that. Not remembering the exact direction he went, Chris decided turning around and just going straight would be his best bet.

After walking through the dense forest for what seemed like hours, Chris saw a flag in the distance, demarking the entrance to the safari zone. He checked his watch, it had been an hour and 45 minutes since Mr. Anderson had given them an hour to go out on their own. Making it out of the forest, Chris noticed that their were other students already there, including Roland.

“Hey, Chris!” he called out, “Over here!”

Chris made his way closer to Roland, and called back. “Hi, how did you do?”

Roland smiled, “I caught two Pokemon, a Geodude and a Starly. How many did you catch?”

Chris stared down at his feet. “I almost caught a Shroomish,” he said, sounding slightly upset.

Roland dropped the topic, “Do you know who’s going to be leading group two?” he asked, not waiting for an answer, “Jake Johnson.”

Chris smiled sheepishly. “Cool!” he said, “but I forgot, who is that.”

Roland looked surprised, “You don’t know who that is? Only the strongest Johnson sibling. He’s beaten every league, and has won 87% of the battles he was in as of August of last year. He’s a legend!”

Chris was confused, “What’s someone like him doing with leading a school group at a safari zone?”

Roland shrugged. “I guess running a gym not sanctioned by the league doesn’t make much money. Or he just enjoys it.,” he said, “I don’t really know.”