Red's Little Brother Joshua

Voltareon2012

I made a story of a kid named Joshua in the Pokémon world. Hope everyone likes it.

Joshua

            Pallet’s my hometown. It’s not the hometown of too many people, but that’s because of it’s size. There’s only around ten houses, one major store, and a pokémon center. Very small. But some of the most famous trainers were born here. For example, Blue, Green, Professor Oak, and Of course, my big brother Red, the Indigo League champion. 

Big brother?!?

Uh-huh. My older brother is the big cheese himself. Kanto champion, the legend himself, yadda yadda yadda. Honestly, the guy barely even talks! You ask him a question, and you’ll get either ‘Yes’, ‘No’, shrug, or ‘Sure’, depending on what you asked. And he’s rarely home: he’s collage age, but his ‘collage’ is the summit of Mount Moon, training with his pokémon, starving himself of the outside world. Crazy, but it might work. At the very least, he certainly thinks it works. Considering my bloodline, you’d think I’d have been popular at my school the next town over. Nah. They just joked about where all his genes were when I was born. 

Because I was eleven, the brother of arguably the most powerful champion, I even looked like him, always wearing a red cap over my longish black hair, even the same kind of face;

But I didn’t even own a pokéball. 

Somehow, I couldn’t seem to catch a single pokémon. I’d tried Pikachu, Pidgey, Bellsprout, Oddish, Rattata, Spearow, Nidoran, not a thing. 

A few nicer kids have let me borrow their pokémon to have battles, but I still got mocked. Believe me, I can tell you any Pokémon League stat you need: the furthest Professor Oak ever got in the Indigo League tournament, Blue’s most recent team, which type any gym leader uses, even totally random stuff like how many direct interference penalties Bill had in his first try at the tournament (16).

But then, I was trash at battling too. I’d used many pokémon lent to me, but they never listened to me, like I’m inexperienced.

What about the pokémon Professor Oak hands out?

I tried: believe me, I tried. I was promptly shoved to the dirt by a kid who claimed I’d never amount to anything as a trainer, and I’d waste his pokémon.

His comment stung. Ever been told you’d never amount to anything, and you know the guy means it?

Worse yet: You know it might be true?

Doubt you’ve ever experienced that, at least not in the way I did. 

Around January though, things changed.

Red actually came for my twelfth birthday.

He’d spent the last two years (Years) on Mount Moon. Hadn’t called once. Biggest notification we’d got that he was even alive was when Blue visited him for their annual battle. 

So try to imagine my shocked, gaping face when on January 15th, I opened the door and saw him standing there, one hand on his cap, the other in his jacket pocket, Pikachu on his shoulder, and nodded to me. 

I can practically hear you smiling at all the stupid faces you’re creating. 

When my mom saw him, she actually fainted, although she never hit the floor, as Snorlax was there, acting as a mattress. Red had thrown a pokéball in less than a second. Clearly the Mount Moon training pays off. 

Red muttered something that sounded like “Geography,” but that probably wasn’t it. Did I mention how bad a communicator he is? 

My mom, after being splashed with cold water, invited him in, of course. He answered any questions with his two-word or less answers, and still acted the same as usual. But when my mom explained it was my birthday and she was going to have a party later, a small smile creeped onto his face, along with a twinkle in his eyes. It left when he noticed Mom turning to him again. 

The party was that afternoon. It was okay, I guess, but it’s not like I really have anybody to invite, so it was just me, my mom, and Red. At least there was no leftover cake to clog up the fridge: Snorlax stole the part we didn’t eat. While Snorlax chewed, Mom decided it should be time for presents The most interesting thing I got was a white cylinder with blue lines on it and a window: a pokémon box. It didn’t have any pokèballs in it, and my mom claimed it wasn’t from her, and Red shook his head. 

At about eight, Red left back for Mount Moon. He gave me a kind look, then departed.

That evening, I set the box on my dresser, wondering who it was from, and who on earth expected I would be able to use it. Then, three pokèballs dropped into the system, out of nowhere, followed by a folded-up piece of paper. I opened it and took out the paper. 

I lied – Red.

I laughed. Of course he did. Sent me these three to train. 

Except, who were these three?

I scooped up the pokèballs and let out the three pokèmon- straight into the wall. The three face-planted into my wall, and I could see them: A large green plant bulb, an orange tail on fire, and a brown turtle-like shell. 

Bulbasaur, Charmander, and Squirtle fell onto floor, none of them looking very pleased about hitting the wall. Charmander seemed to blame Bulbasaur and started spitting fire at him, but then Squirtle started spraying Charmander for being a jerk, but a bunch of it landed on Bulbasaur, so he thought he was being attacked on both sides and got out his vines and started to whip Squirtle, which Squirtle didn’t take too kindly, and it went on and on until they collapsed from exhaustion, and then they returned to their pokèballs for a rest. (*inhale*) I picked up the three and laughed. I owned pokèmon! Of course, I probably wouldn’t be able to command them, but at least they belonged to me!

They’d fainted from their battle, I ran into the bathroom and tried to find some revives, but seeing as I didn’t own any pokèmon, there was none.

Then I remembered: duh, Pokèmon Center. I clipped the pokèballs to my belt, and ran down to the Pokèmon Center. One kid from school saw me run past, saw the balls on my belt, and got a puzzled look on his face. 

“Full Restoration,” I told Nurse Joy. She nodded, took the three pokèballs and placed them on the machine. The pixelated forms of Bulbasaur, Squirtle, and Charmander, and the classic healing music played: Doo doo, Doo-doo-doo! As she handed me back the three pokèmon, a boy from school walked up behind me. He was taller and a little older than me, with brown hair and a smirk imprinted on his face. He was the best trainer in the school, already owning an extremely strong Pidgeotto that was a real threat. He had an entire team of six, all powerful and completely able to kick butt.

“What’s up, champ?” Drake asked, mockingly. “Looking for a trade?”

“Sure,” I said. I had the benefit of the doubt. I was about to give him something for once.

“Let’s see… how about Beedrill for your…” he looked at me, about to deliver his punch line, which was often followed by a punch. I beat him to it.

“Charmander, maybe?” I let the pokèmon out of his ball. The bully looked surprised. 

“Or is Squirtle more to your liking? I’m sure you’re looking for some defense,” I said to him. “Bulbasaur is available too, of course, if you were looking for status.” I let the two out of their pokèballs as well. “Or if you’re not interested in a trade, we could have a battle instead?” I delivered the line in a moment of overconfidence and regretted it immediately after.

Drake’s smirk returned. “Oh, I suppose I won’t trade Beedrill today. I’d rather use it in our battle.”

I gulped. 

Our battle took place in the biggest field in Pallet. 

“Three-on-three?” Drake asked from the other side of the field from me. “Or full team? Either is by me,” he said, cracking his knuckles and unclipping a pokèball from his belt.

“Three-on-Three,” I called, hoping to sound braver than I actually felt. 

“Ready…” Our judge called, a girl from school, a little too young to pokèmon train yet, but knew just about all she needed to judge a match. “Battle!”

I threw my first pokèball through the air, at the same moment Drake threw his. They hit the ground, exploding into two pokèmon.

My first battle had begun.

The first pokèmon stepping up were Bulbasaur and Golduck. I ran through the calculations in my mind and figured out: Golduck’s Water was weak to Grass, but Bulbasaur’s  Poison had the disadvantage against Psychic. So I just had to focus on Grass moves.

“Vine Whip!” I called to Bulbasaur, and he let loose two vines, same as with Squirtle, and gave Golduck a good whooping. He’d obeyed me!

“Is that all you’ve got?” Drake called, taunting. “Confusion!”

Golduck let out strange waves from the red orb in it’s forehead, and the waves enveloped Bulbasaur, who seemed to actually take damage, unlike Golduck. 

“Erm…” I tried to command him, and I almost came up blank. Then Bulbasaur looked at me, awaiting it’s instructions. A surge of confidence flew through me.

“Sleep Powder!” I called, and Bulbasaur fired a round of the stuff, covering Golduck. Golduck’s eyes drooped once, twice, until it zonked out on the ground. 

“No!” Drake yelled at it. “Wake up! Water Gun! Psybeam! Ahh!” 

As Golduck snored away, Bulbasaur noticed the sun setting. 

“Solar Beam!” I called. He charged himself up, prepping himself for the blast. 

Golduck woke up, groggy and then noticed the bundle of energy just above Bulbasaur’s bulb. Golduck watched in horror as the energy flew into the sky and fired a blast of solar energy into his face. On the bright side for him, he know had a pretty good-looking tan. 

Golduck collapsed backwards, and to his pokèball he returned, at that returned straight to Drake’s palm. I whooped. Bulbasaur did a little victory dance, standing on his left legs, then his right legs, then hopping around in a full circle.

Drake cursed. (Just a warning, you might hear that a few more times over the course of this battle).

As he chose his second, I returned Bulbasaur and placed my hand on my second’s pokèball, like a cowboy with his hand on his gun in a standoff. 

Drake threw the ball, releasing his second pokèmon: Beedrill, the one he’d mockingly was going to trade me. I threw in my second pokèmon: Charmander. Again I had the type advantage: Fire against Bug. 

“Poison Sting!” Drake called to his Beedrill before I could call Charmander’s move. Beedrill promptly pointed it’s rear at Charmander and fired a purple squirt of poison. The shot hit, and Charmander had a purple shading. Poison status. 

Charmander got an angry look in his eyes, so I called for his attack: “Ember!”

He fired a burning coal about the size of my hand flew at Beedrill, leaving and mark on it’s middle segment. Flames flickered out of the spot. Burn status. This was a status battle. 

Beedrill fired a Bug Bite at Drake’s command, and Charmander let loose another Ember, then Beedrill fired Poison Sting again. The poison and burn were wearing them both down. Beedrill didn’t seem as badly affected, but Charmander was slowly growing wearier.

I bit my nail. How could I win this? Charmander turned to me and nodded, despite the tiredness in its look. You got this.

“Scratch!” Charmander charged right toward its opponent and scratched his right wing. 

Beedrill buzzed in anger. It fired off another Poison Sting, but I called for Charmander, “Ember!” The fiery blast stung Beedrill and burned the left wing. Beedrill fluttered out of control. 

With Beedrill’s wings unstable, it tried for a Poison sting, but Charmander finished the round with an Ember blast.

Drake cursed as Beedrill returned (See, I told you). Charmander almost collapsed from the poison, though, so I returned him to his pokèball.

Now, the battle was coming easily to me. I threw my next pokèball at the same moment Drake threw his. 

Squirtle and Pidgeotto were ready for battle. This time, I had no type advantage backing me up, and if Pidgeotto won, Charmander couldn’t take any more, and Bulbasaur was weak to flying. 

“Air Slash!” Pidgeotto fired a round of blades of wind that sliced through the air itself. Squirtle took full brunt of the attack and staggered back. 

“Water Gun!” Squirtle sprayed water, drenching Pidgeotto.

He might as well have been using a sprinkler. The attack only annoyed Pidgeotto, who flew in for a Brave Bird, scoring a direct hit. 

Squirtle flinched, and Pidgeotto fired another perfect Air Slash. 

“Water Gun!” I tried again. Squirtle fired another sprinkler blast, and Pidgeotto was fine. He fired another Air Slash. Squirtle managed a half-dodge but was still hit. 

“Withdraw!” Squirtle popped back into his shell, hoping to lower damage from the next hit. Brave Bird slammed into Squirtle, but he kept in his shell, blocking the worst of the attack.

I wasn’t sure what Squirtle next move should be, Squirtle began to spin his shell a bit, then faster, and faster, until I noticed what he was going to do.

“Whirlpool!” I called, and Squirtle kicked off, spraying water in a circle around Pidgeotto, trapping him in a watery cage, slapping him with waves and even a tin can he must’ve picked up of the ground. Pidgeotto tried to escape, but the struggle made him take more damage. 

Drake called for him to use Brave Bird again, but Pidgeotto couldn’t escape.

Squirtle began to inhale with a bubbly sound.

“Hydro Pump!” 

Squirtle unleashed the water he’d built up during Withdraw and blasted it in a high-pressure beam. Pidgeotto, unable to dodge, took the full power of the attack. The whirlpool settled down, and Pidgeotto fell down and returned to his pokèball.

The battle had been decided.

I whooped, and Squirtle spun again just for fun. A bunch of kids who’d been watching came over to congratulate me. 

Drake muttered a string a words I won’t repeat. Then he said to me: “Careful, Joshua. You might make an enemy.”

The next day at school was probably the best day of school I’d ever had in my life. I need to find a postal guy who’ll deliver to Mount Moon to send Red a thank you card.

Even with Drake’s all-day stink-eye at me, I felt great. Bulbasaur, Charmander and Squirtle loved it to, although whenever they were all out of the pokèball at once, the often fought about who actually carried them to victory.

During free period, three different guys challenged me to a battle. I beat two of them, but the bell rang before the third battle. 

As I walked home, a Dragonite fell out of the sky. 

            The Dragonite was carrying a pouch full of messages and handed me a letter. In case you didn’t know: most postal guys don’t use Dragon Mail to deliver messages. I took the letter, and Dragonite left with a small Rawr.

            I opened the letter in my room.

            You know you have to go further. Oak has your license.

            Of course, I knew who it was from. I really do need to find the Mount Moon postal guy.

            I ran to Oak’s lab.

            Oak was home, muttering something about where on earth his pokèballs had gone. When he saw me, though, he lit up. “Ah! Hello, Joshua. Have you seen my starter pokèmon? I set them down on a bench two days ago, and they just vanished.” 

            I looked down at the three pokèballs on my belt. Red… You had better not have…

            Oak pulled out a letter. “Someone sent this to me. A letter of endorsement, though it doesn’t say who it’s from. It has the sign for the Indigo League, so it must’ve come from someone in it: a gym leader, the chairman, elite four member, the champion.”

            I held the letter in my hands. It was typed, so I couldn’t recognize the handwriting, but I had no doubt in my mind who it was from.

            To whom it may concern:

            This is a letter endorsing Joshua of Pallet Town to compete in the Kanto Indigo League. A license is included so that he may begin immediately, as well as a pokèdex.

            Sincerely, _______

            “Awfully short, isn’t it?” Oak questioned. “Here’s the license and pokèdex that were included.”

            My heart pounded as I took the two items. I could finally begin.

“I wish you luck,” Professor Oak told me. “Oh, and someone sent this, too.”

It was Red’s jacket: well, looked the same, anyways. But it was my size and didn’t have his name inscribed in it. It had mine.

I slipped it on. Perfect.

Obviously, step one was telling my mom where I was going. She got tears in her eyes like was remembering the day Red went out. 

The next day, I packed a bag to go. My mom gave me a hug, and I set off.

First I stopped at the Pokè Mart. I had the money to buy some potions, pokèballs, and a revive. But as I brought them to the counter, a familiar face caught my eye.

Drake strode right up to the counter with a bunch of supplies similar to the stuff I’m getting. He turned around and caught my eyes.

“Oh, hello, champ,” he said, not at all friendly. “I don’t suppose you have one of these?” He flashes his own license in my face. “I got endorsed by Brock, you know. I don’t suppose you’ve got one of your own?” His cocky smirk dissipated as I pulled out my own license. Then it returned.

“Alright then, we’ve got ourselves a competition here, yeah?” he asked. “How about this: whoever makes it to the Indigo League…” He smiled. “Wins.”

“Give me more than that,” I said. “I want detailed rules.”

“Alright, let’s take a seat, then,” Drake smirked. 

“First, as I mentioned: whoever makes it to the Indigo League first, wins.”

“Whoever gets further in the tournament,” I clarified. “Wins.”

“Fine,” Drake said. “Whoever has the most badges is ahead.”

“If we meet on the road, we have to battle,” I said. “Loser has to turn back to the town or city he’d came from.”

“Alright, how about: if we meet in a city, the further in their pokèdex sends the other back to the last city they were at.”

“Sure. Lastly: if we make it an equal amount in the tournament, pokèdex is the tiebreaker.”

“Deal,” We said at the same time. And shook on it. “Rivals.”

“This does not mean we’re friends,” Drake said. 

“Same here,” I returned. 

I headed out to Route One as the sun had just risen.

Kind of long, but what do you guys think?

UnovanZorua

This is a really good story! I really liked how Joshua's story seems like it's going to be similar to Red's, the reference to type matchups when Joshua first encounters the starters, and how the starters interact with each other.

Also, the thing on top of the e in words like Pokémon is reversed in some parts (for example: it's Pokémon, but you sometimes wrote it as Pokèmon).

Voltareon2012

Yeah, that happens all the time. I'm actually so surprised you caught that.