Pokémon Voyages Red-Blue (2)

To recap: Joshua has introduced himself as Red's little brother and useless with Pokémon. Red has arrived for his twelfth birthday.


When my mom saw Red, 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 Silver 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.