Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ Trainer Shiny's Journey ❯ Shiny ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

1. Shiny

Ugh. I hate Mondays. At least school ends for people wanting to become trainers on their seventeenth birthday. (A/N: I raised the age because an eleven year old seeing a Pokémon die is just sad and gruesome.) My mom wants me to be a professor, but that would mean eight more years of school. I could not stand the first twelve years of school, why would I want to stay longer?
I creep downstairs. Good. Mom’s gone. She’s probably spending more money on Pokémon dolls and scarves. I grab my bag, wallet, and trainer card (Damn I hate these things. They made mine bright orange, my least favorite color.) and sneak out the back window of the house.
“Hi Shiny!”
Oh, god, why? Why right now?
“Hi.” I say as a blue, slick furred, wet ball smacks me in the stomach.
“Marill!” Right on my nice shirt. Mud on my nice shirt.
“Seriously? Marill never listens to you, Abel. You need to stop goofing off and train. At least your parents can afford to buy you a Pokémon from a breeder.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Shiny. Professor Elm wanted to talk to you. Something about a job for you to do.” Abel looked bashful.
“Whatever Abel.” I’ll never get out of this tiny town. I hate this place. Even the name is dull. New Bark? More like New Barf.
I hustled over to Professor Elm’s place. Maybe I can snag one of his research Pokémon while he’s not looking.
“Shiny! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day! What happened to that Pokégear Abel got you for your birthday?”
Professor Elm is the only one who’s nice to me. Sometimes he even lets me help him feed his research Pokémon.
“It broke. Mom was supposed to take it to the repair shop in Goldenrod, but she’s probably just shopping again.”
“Would you like to run an errand for me? I got a call from a guy I know called Mr. Pokémon, he said he found something, but I don’t have time to go pick it up. I have some rare Pokémon that need a trainer, I thought you might like to have one.”
A Pokémon? For me? Fuck yes! “Shure, why not? I have nothing better to do.”
“Here they are. I have the grass Pokémon Chikorita, the fire Pokémon Cyndaquil, and the water Pokémon Totodile. Which would you like?”
I look inside the Pokéballs. “Chikorita looks sad.” I say. “Can I take him?”
“Sure! What would you like to name him?”
A name? Abel’s Marill doesn’t have a name. “Attila. I’ll call him Attila.”
“That’s a great name, Shiny. Mr. Pokémon’s house is just past Cherrygrove. Be careful, it’s already getting dark.”
“I will Professor. Come on Attila, let’s go.” I don’t want to keep him in a Pokéball, that’s too sad.
My mom’s coming into town as I am leaving. “Woo-hoo! Shiny! I have your Pokégear fixed!”
Something bites me on the leg. It’s my mom’s stupid Snubbull. “Get off me Princess! I’m not food!”
Attila did something unexpected, then. He charged full speed into Princess, knocking her off me. “Chiko-Chikory!”
“Thank you, Attila.”
“I can’t believe a lazy layabout like you got a Pokémon.”
Sometimes I hate my mom.
“Mom, I’m going to Cherrygrove. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”
“Don’t expect to have a bedroom when you get back!” She yells after me as I walk away.
As I walk to Cherrygrove, Attila proves to be really protective of me. He constantly is on the lookout; the leaf on his head is perked up, as he glances around, if he notices any hostile Pokémon, he alerts me and we battle it. Pidgeys are the worst; they are always trying to pick a fight. I cannot wait until full dark.
“Here we are, Attila. Cherrygrove City.” We head to the Pokémon Center to get him healed. He protests a little.
I think someone might have abandoned him at some point.
Luckily the Pokémon Center has beds for the trainers. Time for a little rest, then tomorrow I’ll get on to Mr. Pokémon’s house.