Edmund adjusted the strap on his pack for the third time as he stood at the edge of the Harrington family driveway. It didn't matter how he shifted it—the thing was going to chafe no matter what. He wasn't overpacked, thanks to Benjamin's advice, but even ten to twenty pounds dug in when you were about to spend hours on foot.
His mother fluttered behind him with an anxious energy that refused to settle. "You've got the extra socks, right? And the protein bars? I put them in the front pocket, but I think you moved them."
"I didn't," Edmund said.
"Are you sure? Let me just—"
"I'm sure." He said it a bit sternly; it wasn't intentional, he was just a bit uncomfortable with her fussing over him still. "I have everything, Mom; it's fine." He corrected himself and did his best to give a reassuring smile.
She backed off half a step, wringing her hands, but she smiled as well.
His father handed over a small, dull orange device—well-worn, slightly scuffed. "Standard-issue Ranger flare gun," he said. "Legal to carry after registering, but don't use it unless it's serious. Point it up into the air and fire. It'll alert the nearest Rangers, and they'll come swarming over as soon as possible."
He felt a twinge of happiness even if he clenched his jaw and accepted it politely. He felt like these things were more expensive than just a random flare gun from his past life. It sounded more like those diver's watches or what have you that sent out an SOS that cost a ton of money when emergency services arrived.
Edmund took it and nodded, slotting it carefully into the side pocket of his pack. "Got it."
His father's face was unreadable. A twitch of his mouth like he wanted to say something more—but didn't. He just gave a short nod.
His mother stepped forward again with a small plastic bottle, the nozzle capped. "Repel," she said, trying not to sound too worried. "Not the cheap kind. This'll work on almost anything that comes near the roads. Don't go running into the forests." She warned, the unspoken meaning that it would lose effectiveness on the more wild and angry Pokémon.
Edmund knew and nodded again.
Repel wasn't some magic saving concoction. If a Pokémon was pissed off enough, it wasn't going to do anything. It was almost like the equivalent of Bear Mace from back before. It may or may not stop charging bears. But it was certainly better to have it than not.
He would have killed to have it when he had those Beedrill on his ass a few days ago.
"Thanks." Edmund took it without protest. He was still adjusting to a version of his life where someone bothered to hand him things like this.
Benjamin was standing off to the side, arms crossed, sunglasses perched on his head. "Try not to burn the forest down," he called. "And remember—when in doubt, walk like you know what you're doing. Wilds pick up on hesitation."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Even Barty pats his shoulder, the more stoic of his brothers. "The Pokémon near the roads are more used to people; sometimes, they might even help in an emergency." He offered his own advice. "A Caterpie on the tree you can see from the side of the road is probably fed by people almost every day and won't like another angry Pokémon disrupting its feeding habits."
Edmund took that in and nodded again, accepting the advice and storing it away for an emergency.
"Call when you get there," his mother added.
Edmund didn't answer at first. Then, "I'll try."
They didn't exactly have cellphones here.
The closest he could pick out were very expensive types of satellite phones, not that they had satellites up in the sky. He didn't know how they worked, only that it was somewhat similar in concept.
Not even the first-generation Pokedex could make calls. Though, strangely, it had a GPS function, at least he thought it might. He didn't know how well his previous knowledge actually transferred over to this world.
And even 'regular' phones here were underdeveloped. Though, it was another odd path of technology in his opinion. Connected to all the 'phones' here were these near-perfect video displays that also let you see the person's face on the other end.
"Think of this as a sample of what you're going to be doing a lot soon." Benjamin grinned, giving his shoulder a little smack, with a wink.
Edmund held back a wince. His shoulder was doing better, and he knew that was his brother's silent warning about not being an idiot.
"I'll be fine; it's just a few hours walking on an early route." Edmund forced out a casual smile.
His mom wrapped him up in a hug before he had the chance to reject it. He didn't stop her or push her away, even if it was still a bit uncomfortable.
"If you're too tired later today, you can just rent a room at the Pokécenter and walk home tomorrow, okay? Just give us a call with whatever you decide to do." His mom told him.
"Alright." Edmund accepted politely. "I'll be fine." He reassured her again even though she still looked nervous.
"Don't worry about your mother." His father gently guided her away from him. "She does this every time one of you kids leaves home for their own little adventure." He chuckled in a way that looked nostalgic.
His mom shot his father a glare, much to his amusement.
"You start your Journey in a few days; take this chance to see Route 1 and what it's like." His father told him. "And do your best; if you can make a good impression on Professor Oak, well, your future is limitless."
Edmund said his not-so-final goodbyes as he headed on out.
@***@
It was a funny thought to Edmund.
How easily they just let their kids take a near ten-mile walk from home with a bit of prep and some advice.
Even funnier would be if it was like what he knew beforehand, if Trainers started their journey at like ten years old.
He was thankful there was that bit of common sense in the world at least, that they waited until kids were sixteen.
About thirty minutes out of town, he had been walking. He was doing fine so far; his 'morning runs' did actually involve jogging and running more often than not, so he was relatively in shape.
And his parents had stressed that good socks and shoes were one of the most important things to a Trainer, his brothers nodding along.
Heck, the Shoe and Sock technology in this world was leagues above his last one.
He was now wearing special traveling socks, which felt like his feet were wrapped in clouds.
Every so often, Edmund took a moment to look around and also scour the skies to see if he was being followed. It wouldn't put it past Benjamin to either keep an eye on him or send Arrow to do so.
But as far as he could see, in the nearly cloudless sky, he couldn't actually find anything.
Feeling satisfied, he did exactly what he was told not to do, and he left the road and ducked into the forest.
He wasn't feeling adventurous, nor did he plan to 'explore' any like his previous times. No, he just wanted to make sure no one stumbled upon him because he had something important to do.
"Alright, you can come out now." Edmund spoke to no one around him.
However, under the shady canopy, two eyes appeared in his shadow.
A slow mist oozed upward, and with a barely audible hiss of amusement, Gastly floated free from the ground like it had been melting out of the dark itself.
Edmund blinked. "You were in my shadow the whole time?" He assumed so, but he wanted to make sure.
Gastly grinned, and there was a clear undercurrent of smugness. "Gast!"
"How long?" He took that as confirmation.
It bobbed once, lazily, making a loop in the air. "Ga, Ghast, leeeeee." He carried the last bit. Edmund only vaguely understood him but sort of got the point.
"The entire time." Edmund furrowed his brow, because hearing it confirmed and suspecting were two entirely different things. "You were in my shadow on the Pidgeot?" Edmund asked specifically about this point because it sounded kind of incredulous.
He knew that Agatha, one of the Elite Four and basically the only known Ghost Specialist in the region, kept a handful of Gengar in her shadow.
Gastly spun in a lazy spiral, then puffed itself up like it expected applause.
Edmund stared. "How?"
No response. Just more hovering. The ghost's tongue lolled out the side of its mouth like it was enjoying the moment far too much. Frankly, Edmund began to wonder if Gastly even knew the answer to that question either.
It might even just be something instinctual.
"I don't even know how shadows work like that," Edmund muttered. "Are you in it? Are you… part of it?"
Gastly wiggled side to side in the air like a shrug.
Edmund sighed. "So, ghost magic bullshit?"
A happy trill escaped Gastly's misty form. "Ga, Ga, Ga," he laughed happily.
Edmund crouched down, resting his arms on his knees. "You've been quiet since that first morning; that seems out of character for you." Granted, they hadn't known each other for long, but Edmund could at least understand that much.
Gastly twitched but didn't answer.
"You weren't even playing around when I was with Benjamin," Edmund added.
The ghost made a soft noise but said nothing meaningful. It didn't look upset, just… noncommittal. Like it had been waiting for something. Or maybe it simply didn't feel like talking. It was hard to read a floating head made of fog.
Eventually, Edmund just shook his head. "Right."
That got another delighted little cackle.
It was strangely comforting, though, having the Gastly in his shadow this entire time. Of course he was worried that Gastly would just suddenly decide it was going to introduce itself to the family. But also knowing that he had an…ally? Was that the right word? He didn't know yet.
But knowing that maybe someone had his back so close that he could confide in them, it was definitely a good feeling.
Gastly tilted its head, tongue rolling back into its mouth. Curious.
of curiosity, what moves do you know?" Heked his…new friend.
Yeah, Edmund felt like that fit. Maybe it was his first friend here. Even the previous him didn't really have many people he knew here.
Gastly rotated once in place and did a sudden spin. A wave of dark, inky mist spiraled out from its form like a slow-motion ripple, then its tongue extended longer than it should have and ran up the side of a nearby tree.
Edmund raised an eyebrow. "Was that... Lick?"
Gastly seemed to nod enthusiastically, proud of itself.
Edmund nodded; from what he remembered, it was one of the most basic moves a Gastly could learn, literally a level 1 ability. Not that this world operated off some inane game mechanics, but it helped him compartmentalize the information better.
The ghost made a very pointed show of licking the air with its oversized tongue, exaggerated and drooling a few more times.
Edmund gagged. "Seriously?" He deadpanned.
The ghost grinned harder. It seemed like it had been holding itself back for the past couple days while staying in his shadow. "Gast, Gast!~" He giggled still.
"Anything else?" He asked, taking out a berry from his own personal stash that he acquired from before and tossing it to him.
The Gastly ate it up happily, not even taking the time to consider if it would be another sour one. However, much to its delight, it chewed happily.
It made Edmund question if Gastly even needed to eat properly or if it did it for pleasure.
Another nod from the Ghost after it giggled itself silly. "Gastly, Gaaa." He seemed to drawl as if to say, 'Of course I know more moves.'
Edmund clapped his hands. "Alright, show me your best if you're able." He said challengingly.
Gastly stared at him for a moment, and his eyes narrowed, not in a menacing way, but like a kid who now knew there were bragging rights on the line.
With a flick of its misty aura, a ball of shadow condensed and flew at a tree, demolishing the spot it connected to, sending it tumbling over with a large thoomb, the sound reverberating through the forest.
However, Edmund just stared at Gastly silently, eyes widening in disbelief.
"Holy shit." He breathed out. "Holy shit, was that Shadow Ball?!"
Gastly smiled proudly, doing somersaults midair. "Gastly Gastly Gastly~" It taunted Edmund proudly, with an overexaggerated faux arrogance in its tone.
"....That isn't something a random Gastly in the wild should know." Edmund whispered.
He wouldn't call himself a Pokémon expert by any stretch of the imagination. However, a combination of his knowledge before and safer waking up here, he could make some guesses. And everything he knew told him that a random Gastly knowing a high tier move like Shadow Ball was astronomically low. Maybe if it were one of its later Evolutions, but he would call it rare to find in a random Haunter as well.
"That was Shadow Ball!" Edmund said in excitement again. "That was amazing!" He grabbed Gastly.
"Gastly!" The Ghost was excited too for some reason.
Shadow Ball was probably the bread and butter of Ghost Types. It was a low-cost, decently high-hitting attack that took very little 'charge up' to produce. Not to mention it was above average in speed too.
It was one of the most all-rounder type attacks he knew of off the top of his head.
It was very high-level too.
Comparatively, that is. It was no Hyper Beam, but it was basically at the top end of what a Gastly could sort of learn without a Trainer pushing them.
"Either you must be a little genius, or someone taught you." He gently pulled on the ghost's ethereal cheeks as they stretched in an absurd way.
The Gastly's eyes darted side to side, not answering.
Edmund found himself smiling again. He didn't know why he felt so relaxed with this Gastly, but he was happy to have found a friend like this.
Regardless, he let go of the Gastly, not pressing it. If the little ghost didn't want to answer, he wouldn't force it.
He had his own secrets after all, and he wouldn't like someone else prying into them.
Edmund's mood had picked up. Well, he was already excited, if he were being honest. It felt like the first genuine step in becoming a Pokémon trainer, and now he had a certain pep in his step that wasn't there before.
"Do you wanna keep following along? I'm going to see Professor Oak; he has a ranch or something with a lot of other Pokémon there." Edmund asked.
Gastly nodded excitedly and dove right back into Edmund's shadow.
Edmund found himself smiling again.
He was about to get back onto the road, but some advice Benjamin gave him yesterday had made him pause.
Benjamin told him to always double-check your equipment if you take a break somewhere before leaving again, especially in the wilds. Maybe something fell out of your pack or pockets, or maybe a mischievous Pokémon you didn't notice stole something. If you suddenly lose something, it's better to know immediately than find out hours later.
He went over his bags, checking everything. Flashlight, flare gun, a bit of money, his knife, and survival equipment that he had prepared in an emergency. Even the collapsible small fishing rod that his brother gave him yesterday as an early Journey going away present.
Edmund nodded to himself and slung his pack back over his shoulder and headed back to the road and continued on his way.
@***@
Strangely, to Edmund, the hours went by fast.
He expected to start dreading the walk, to maybe even question his Journey altogether after traveling by foot for miles, but oddly, he was still going strong.
He had met a few passersby along the way. A middle-aged couple who greeted him, a ranger who nodded at him and warned him about something happening further away deep into the forests that didn't matter to him.
And he even met some kid probably just barely older than him that already had a Pokémon and wanted to battle him.
He seemed overly upset that Edmund still didn't have his Trainer's license yet,, but there wasn't much he could do about it.
But otherwise, it hadally been…pleasant.
In fact, Pallet Town had taken him almost by surprise as he approached the first peek of civilization on the road.
A barn appeared first, then a fenced area and a bunch of other more domesticated Pokémon.
Some houses appeared, and gradually, more popped up with their foundations getting closer to each other as a town opened up properly.
It wasn't like what he recalled from a long time ago when he was a kid and saw it animated. And it especially wasn't like the game where there were literally like five houses that constituted the 'town.'
It was definitely rural to an extent, but he stopped to take in the scene as he stood on a bit of a hill that overlooked the majority of the town.
It was bigger than he expected. Probably with a few thousand people living in total, something that could actually be called a town.
Despite it being the first time he's actually been here, Edmund got hit by a wave of nostalgia.
Almost immediately, there were signs directing any travelers or visitors. There was one for a PokéMart, a Pokécenter, and even one that pointed towards Professor Oak's lab.
There were some people out and about; it had already reached just past noon, he reckoned, so the small town had come to life.
A lot of people smiled at waved at him.
Maybe it was because he was looking around everywhere and looked like a tourist, but it seemed like everyone knew he wasn't a resident here.
He decided just to do a straight shot to Professor Oak's place, following the labeled signage until he cleared some of the main streets and took a cobblestone path towards a hill. Even from this spot, he could see the massive windmill connected to a large building.
It looked almost exactly like what he had etched into his memory. What he hadn't known before was the massive and fenced-off lands behind it.
Edmund knew that Professor Oak cared for a lot of Pokémon and much more considering the Trainers he sponsors, but it was another thing to actually see it in person.
A lot of different Pokémon were seemingly just hanging around, relaxing, or simply sleeping. It was jarring because a great many of them certainly didn't belong right out in the open like this.
There was an Onyx sleeping next to an Ivysaur.
There was a Pincer seemingly play fighting with a Machoke.
It wasn't just Kanto Pokémon either. There was a Hoothoot sitting on top of a tree branch and a handful of Sunflora making up a big garden with some other grass Pokémon.
Edmund stood there for several minutes because it was a sight he hadn't quite seen in his time here just yet. So many different Pokémon all gathered in a single area.
A Rapidash was running around the perimeter with a Jolteon not far behind, as if they were racing.
Professor Oak's house, It was bigger than he expected—part home, part research facility, with a few smaller sheds and barns out back. It seems like most of his land had been dedicated to housing Pokémon more than anything.
The front door was unlocked; well, Edmund wouldn't really call it a front door. It was a sort of sliding door that opened automatically. Like what you would find at a PokéMart or PokéCenter.
The initial room was…well, it was a bit hospital-like at first appearance. There were more doors and such leading further back, presumably to where his actual lab and living space were. Here, it was like where people came to visit or wait.
He half expected a receptionist or maybe a front desk, but there was nothing of the sort. Just the faint hum of equipment, a few open folders on a cluttered table, and voices—raised, but not shouting—from deeper inside the lab.
Edmund crept forward towards the source, a bit too shy to announce his presence just yet.
"…You're not listening, Julian," came a familiar voice. It was older, firm, and distinctly annoyed. "You're always thinking about money. Funding this, payment that. This isn't about profit. This is valuable research that could help Pokémon and Trainers!"
"I'm not selling my soul to the damn company, Samuel. But I can't keep doing my work if my bank account is empty!" The second voice—Julian—was smooth, defensive, maybe a little tired. "I'm selling just enough to keep the research going. You know how expensive it is to get anything approved these days."
"You're making excuses," Oak snapped. "You used to care about the work. What happened to that young boy whose eyes lit up at every Pokémon he met!? Now it's about partnerships and percentages. I didn't teach you so some businessman could come in and treat Pokémon like a product of your hard work!"
"I care, Samuel; don't try to twist things." Julian insisted. "But ideals don't keep the lights on. We can't all have what you have—you've got reputation and funding from the League itself! I'm some nobody living in your shadow; how do you expect me to keep my research going?"
There was a pause. Edmund hesitated near the entryway to the inner lab, unsure if he should announce himself or wait for it to pass.
Oak spoke again, this time quieter. "You're better than this, Julian! Those companies you sold your research to, do you think they're going to care? They're going to squeeze out every drop of profit they can from what you give them and not care about helping the world!"
"Not everything has to be a selfless act of charity, Samuel!" Julian raised his voice, his anger tipping over. "How much charity work have I done over the years!? How much have I given without so much as asking for any kind of compensation!?"
Edmund could hear the shouting continue in a back-and-forth that seemed to result in both refusing to back down.
However, he eventually heard it reach a point where someone came stomping towards the door. Edmund quickly backed off almost right as it swung up, slamming against the wall.
The person walking by barely spared Emund a glance, clearly still fuming.
He was wearing a weathered lab coat, with some slicked-back hair that looked like it could use a shower.
It took another moment before the man himself walked out, shaking his head, but nearly stilled when he saw Edmund.
"Ah, Mr….Harrington, I believe?" Professor Oak quickly seemed to recover from the annoyance he had a moment ago.
"Yes, sir." Edmund perked up; a surge of excitement stirred within him.
Professor Oak.
He was standing in front of Professor Oak.
How many times had he gotten a Pokémon from this man from behind a screen?
Professor Oak cleared his throat. "I hope you can forgive me, just a bit of excitement between colleagues." He spoke, probably guessing Edmund could have heard their arguing. "You're early, good. The early Pidgey gets the Caterpie, as they say." He smiled jovially, holding out his hand.
Edmund took it without letting his excitement show too much. "Thank you for having me, sir." He didn't even notice his own tone being so respectful as it came out.
Professor Oak nodded. "I suppose we can get started then. Why don't you follow me back into the lab?" He held the door open, and Edmund walked inside with him.
It was…..basic, oddly enough.
Lots of papers, lots of tables, lab equipment here or there, and computers.
Professor Oak took a sat on his computer chair. He was….well, Edmund didn't quite know what to think.
The man looked a bit sterner than at his first introductions. Like he was evaluating Edmund rather intensely. It was a far cry from the image that Edmund had of the man in his head, always smiling, the quintessential grandpa character that everyone loved to be around.
He fumbled through some paperwork until he seemed to have found what he was looking for. "Let's see, Edmund Harrington….you completed your schooling two years ago, decent grades, could have been better."
School was an odd thing in this world. At least in Kanto, compulsory education was… well, it's hard to compare it.
Like many things in this world, despite it being rather fantastical, they basically tossed the kids in and said, Sink or swim. Edmund finished his schooling two years ago at the ripe age of fourteen. They didn't have unnecessary classes; you didn't have ten different math courses you needed to take before you could graduate. You were taught what you needed to be taught; there was some wiggle room if you were having trouble, but they very much did not hold your hand after a certain point.
Of course you could go on to higher education, but it was significantly less pushed.
Compared to his past life, school here was basically a side consideration.
"And your parents…your father works at Sipho Co." Professor Oak seemed to be reading off his resume or equivalent.
However, once Professor Oak got to that part, Edmund could practically hear a small twinge of dislike, even if Professor Oak didn't change his expression.
"Oh good, you took the survival classes six years ago. Many children seem to think it's unnecessary." His expression softened ever so slightly. Professor Oak skimmed the last few lines of the file and set it aside with a quiet tap. "Right, then."
Yeah, 'Survival Training. Edmund recalled that from before he…arrived. It was basically, don't eat poisonous things, don't drink bad things.Wild Pokémon are dangerous; here's how you start a fire.
He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach, studying Edmund in that casual, grandfatherly way that felt easy—until it didn't.
"You've completed your coursework, some volunteer hours under your belt a few years ago, and even survival training. Not bad." He gave a small nod. "Tell me, Edmund—what draws you to becoming a Trainer? Not just the travel or the battles. What's your reason?"
Edmund sat a little straighter, and he gave the best answer he thought Professor Oak wanted to hear. "I want to understand more. About Pokémon and the world. I guess… I want to be better than I've been."
Professor Oak's brows lifted slightly. "Better?"
"I mean…" Edmund scratched his neck. "My brothers, they seem like they know what they're doing. They did their journeys, and it's like they have everything figured out. I want to be like that."
"I see." Oak's voice was mild. Encouraging, even. But something about the way he said it made Edmund briefly question whether it was approval or merely acknowledgment.
There was a beat of silence. Then Oak continued with the same pleasant tone, almost conversational. "Do you know what I've always found interesting about young Trainers? Most of them believe the hardest part will be the wilderness. Wild Pokémon. Bad weather. Rough paths."
Edmund nodded once, thinking a follow-up was coming.
"No." Oak said, shaking his head. "It's finding out who they are when no one else is looking. Becoming a trainer, even temporarily, is a big event. It gives children freedom they never experienced before. Some—Oak looked at him with a strong gaze. "— don't handle that newfound responsibility well."
Oak picked up a pen and tapped it lightly against the side of the desk. "Let's test something. What type has the fewest offensive advantages?"
Edmund blinked. "Uh… Bug?"
Oak gave a small nod, marking something on the page. "Correct. A simple one."
He flipped to another form. "And which region-specific behavior causes Gyarados in Kanto waters to evolve more frequently than those raised in controlled habitats?"
That took Edmund a second longer. "Territorial stress?" he offered. "They're exposed to more predators and fewer resources. It triggers aggression and fast development. At least, I think." It sounded thought out, but Edmund was just blurting out things he assumed based on what he knew and some secondhand information from his brother.
"Assume you are out in the wilds, your only Pokémon is injured, unable to fight, and you run into a wild and aggressive Pokémon. What would you do?"
Edmund gave it a moment's thought. "Throw a PokéBall at it."
"Try and catch it?" He questioned.
"No, to buy time to run away. If the Pokémon, with no noticeable debilitations or injuries, doesn't want to be caught, it'll break free after a few moments. Buying a new PokéBall is a small price to pay to get out of there safely." Edmund began to realize what Professor Oak was doing.
It wasn't so much about the answers themselves, but he was wanting to see how he answered both quickly and under a bit of pressure.
Oak smiled faintly, as if that answer had passed a deeper kind of test. "Interesting answer. Not many young Trainers would have thought of something like that."
"Tell me, what's more important for a Trainer, authority or respect?"
"Respect." Edmund said quickly.
Oak raised an eyebrow. "Mmm." It wasn't a right or wrong answer, and he didn't visibly agree or disagree. "You wander across a shiny Pikachu; would you catch it just for its rarity?"
Edmund faltered for half a breath, and Professor Oak raised an eyebrow. "No." He answered, but he had a feeling the Professor was…skeptical.
He didn't say anything, just jotting down some notes.
Professor Oak capped his pen and set it down beside the folder. "That's enough questions for now," he said, tone even.
Edmund nodded once, unsure if that meant anything. Oak's face gave away nothing.
"Come with me," Oak said, already walking. "There's something more important than paperwork or test scores. A real Trainer's worth reveals itself when they're around Pokémon."
They stepped into a long hallway, which led through another door—this one opening into bright light and the sound of the windmill turning slowly above them. A vast stretch of fenced-in land greeted them, dappled with trees, hills, and open space. Pokémon wandered freely in loose clusters or alone, basking in the sun or resting in the shade.
"This facility isn't just a lab," Oak said. "It's a sanctuary. A place where Pokémon can recover, or retire, or simply exist without someone demanding something from them. My research centers on the bonds between Pokémon and people—how we shape one another, often without realizing it."
A breeze passed through the field as Oak lifted a hand and gave a soft whistle.
Several Pokémon perked up—some curious, some familiar. A Bayleef ambled over first, brushing gently against Oak's side like a cat. He rubbed its neck fondly.
A Pokémon from Johto, Edmund wasn't too surprised to see it here. Though, he thought the iconic starting trio of their regions would be…less likely to be in the hands of a person from Kanto.
While there is no weird cold war or arms race going on, both regions are still somewhat cold in general to each other.
"She was left here by a Trainer who couldn't continue. A shame—she's incredibly empathetic." Professor Oak smiled and sort of eye-gestured for him to give her a pet.
Edmund reached out, slow and careful. The Bayleef stopped short. Her ears twitched, and she turned her head slightly away, giving Edmund art of…distant look. Like, she wasn't going to freak out or attack him, but she also didn't want him to touch her.
Oak's hand kept moving in slow, familiar strokes along the Bayleef's neck, merely raising an eyebrow. "Odd, I don't think she's ever been like that to anyone before. But I suppose it's bound to happen; some Pokémon may just not like someone for strange reasons." He chuckled.
A second Pokémon came next—an Arcanine, old and broad-shouldered, with graying fur around the muzzle. It approached with weighty steps and sat heavily at Oak's side.
"This old boy here was a rescue from about twenty years ago." Oak said simply. "A nasty forest fire swept through the nearby forests before it got under control. This old boy had some serious smoke damage. He's been the most perfect guard around the place ever since."
It stared at him.
Edmund stared back.
Hesitantly, Edmund raised his hand, and the Arcanine let out a low growl. Not an I'm going to bite you growl, but a slight warning to stay away.
Professor Oak paused his petting, seemingly surprised. "…what's gotten into you, old boy?"
The Arcanine let out a playful whimper, rubbing against him again, ignoring Edmund further.
More Pokémon came to investigate what was going on. Admittedly, not all of them fawned over Professor Oak, but all of them treated him kindly and respectfully.
A Machoke in particular, with Professor Oak's ushering, simply gave Edmund a long look, made a rumbling noise, and crossed his arms before walking away.
Not one came to him.
Not one lingered in his space.
Most of them even took a long path around him, steering clear almost completely.
Oak's tone didn't change, but his expression did. He wasn't oblivious to what he was watching.
"They're usually more curious with new people," Oak said, more to himself than to Edmund. "Especially ones who haven't met them before. Pokémon tend to make their judgments fast. Instinctive, some say. I've always found that to be true. I've always held fast that you can judge a person by how Pokémon treat them."
The words, while philosophical, had a slight tinge of an accusatory notion to them as the professor looked at him intently.
Edmund fidgeted with the strap of his pack. "…maybe there's just something they don't like about me, a smell or something?"
Professor Oak just frowned. "While many Pokémon have an increased sense of smell, this most assuredly wouldn't all react in a similar way, and I've myself been fully covered in the most foul things you could imagine. This is a far cry from what I've ever seen."
"And…what do you think the problem is, if you don't mind me asking?"
Professor Oak studied him for a moment. "There could be a plethora of reasons. Sometimes, Pokémon canmply just…pick up on certain things better than most."
Edmund swallowed, and while Professor Oak's tone didn't noticeably change, he could tell that he was now being judged.
"A few months ago, there was an incident. I almost died, and ever since then, Pokémon have been avoiding me. Do you think—
Professor Oak held up a hand. "Young man." His voice was soft, but it had an air of sternness to it. "I can't in good conscience give my blessing to someone who's…disliked so openly by every Pokémon on my ranch."
Edmund's jaw tightened.
"Please…" Edmund said through gritted teeth. He knew that this was…important, that it was a 'gift' from his parents. "I promise it's not because I did anything bad. My parents said I was attacked by ghosts, and I was in the hospital. Ever since then, Pokémon had been avoiding me."
Even as he said it, Edmund knew it sounded…ridiculous.
Professor Oak's expression softened. "It sounds like you have been through something difficult. However, I can't begin to understand how that would turn into…this." He gestured to the Pokémon around, giving Edmund various degrees of not wanting to be near him looks. "There have been plenty of incidents of Trainers or Non-Trainers alike being attacked by ghosts or having run-ins with ghosts, and never once has something similar been reported."
"W-what if there's actually something wrong? You said yourself, it's strange, right?"
Professor Oak didn't look entirely convinced. And Edmund knew how he was being perceived right now. He's had those looks before in the past, where people just assumed he was up to no good or that he was some kind of undesirable.
However, Professor Oak let out a small sigh. "I'll tell you what, I may be able to make some time in my schedule to investigate your…hypothesis. I may be able to squeeze it in in about…seven or eight months." He put a hand on his chin, looking thoughtful.
"…seven or eight months." Edmund whispered. "That….I can't wait that long." He was supposed to start his Journey in a few days. By seven or eight months, the Indigo League would be in full swing; everyone else would be either finishing their badge runs or just about while they prepare for the tournament.
Though, most predominantly, he imagined the look of disappointment on his parents' faces. He didn't know why; he only knew 'this' pair for a few months, but that in particular made his stomach knot up.
"I'm sorry, young man, it's simply the best I can do right now." Professor Oak said helplessly.
Edmund clenched his fists again. "Then…what happens now?"
"Now, well…" He sighed again. "I'm sorry to say, but I'm going to have to reject your request for sponsorship, considering everything."
"Yeah, okay." Edmund spat out, pulling up his hood over his head. "Thanks anyways." He turned to walk away, not wanting to stay here any longer.
He only let out a breath once he made his way out of Professor Oak's house.
Maybe he should have come clean. Maybe he should have told the professor how he was... technically not himself? He didn't even know how he would begin to explain everything, but he could have given it a shot.
Professor Oak was a good person, a genuinely good person; Edmund could rationalize that he wouldn't be treated like some alien or lab rat.
Still…he couldn't bring himself to say it.
"Why did I expect anything different?" He whispered, looking up at the sky. "This is always how shit goes in my life."
Now, he needed to know what to do next.
His parents were going to expect good news. His brothers were going to be waiting for him to announce that he was some special 'Professor Oak Sponsored Trainer.'
He didn't know how to face them.
As he walked down the hill from the house, he noticed someone sitting on the fence. It was the man he had seen earlier, the one arguing with Professor Oak.
He looked about the same age as either of his brothers; it was hard to tell.
He also looked tired, with dark bags under his eyes, his lab coat a bit frayed, and his clothes looking like they hadn't been changed in a couple of days. He sat there with a blank look, barely sparing Edmund a glance with a cigarette in his mouth.
"What?" The man finally asked, noticing that Edmund was staring at him.
Edmund dropped his bag to the ground, fished around inside, and took out his lighter. "Trade you a light for a smoke."
He stared at Edmund for a hard moment, reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, popping the bottom of it for a moment until one popped out, and held it up.
Edmund grabbed it, then leaned forward and lit the man's cigarette before taking a seat on the fence a couple of feet away and lighting his own up.
It had been a long time since he smoked. He quit it awhile ago, even in his last life, mostly because he couldn't afford to buy them anymore.
"Are you one of the kids trying to get sponsored by the old man?" He asked, as if making small talk.
"Yup."
"Botched it, huh?" He could probably guess from Edmund's mood.
"Yup," Edmund said again.
The man grunted.
"Are you a researcher under Professor Oak?" Edmund asked.
"Yup."
"Had a falling out?"
"Yup." He answered again.
Then there was silence for several minutes as the two just sat there, awkwardly staring off into the distance.
Edmund remembered the argument he overheard between the two. And gradually, he had an idea forming in his head. A way to keep his parents from finding out, a way to keep everything going normal, and a wayy to even…acquire a 'sponsorship.'
"Hey."
"Hmmm?" The man looked up.
"You wanna make some money?"
@***@
A/N
Wanted to make sure Professor Oak rejected him without coming off as an uncharacteristic jerk. From Professor Oak's perspective, there were a bunch of red flags around Edmund, and he wasn't going to put his name next to a Trainer that none of his Pokémon really liked. And his 'reasoning' sounds like bullshit from an outside perspective.