Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Tripping over another branch and falling down on his face, Saywer couldn’t help but wonder, once again, what was he doing wrong.

It shouldn’t be that hard, getting to Littleroot Town. Professor Birch was waiting for him with the promise of a new Starter, a new journey, a new start. A proper one. One that wouldn’t be stopped by the threat of ancient Legendaries coming out and having a fight a few months before he was of age and scaring his parents off his one true choice. This time, there wasn’t anything holding him back from finally taking his own steps forward.

A new research project. A new chance. And only if he could navigate his way through the thickest forest he has ever seen in his entire life. Ever. 

Dimly, he noticed how going off-path wasn’t the wisest choice. Shaking the leaves out of his hair, he got up to his knees and pulled out his PokéNav. Watching the screen, it seemed that he was still somewhere out on the outskirts of Oldale Town, but its been like that for the last 5 hours and he knows that he has been moving at a pace that should make him inside Oldale.

A whole day in, and he still can’t get it right.

He groaned, looking up at the sky and possibly pleading for Rayquaza to come down and take him there themselves. Why does travelling require so much… travelling? It’s not right. Why couldn’t natural portals appear here like in Sinnoh?

Taking a few more breaths he then gets up, dusting off his pants and checking his vest (a little dirty, but at least he looks distinguished). Glaring at the PokéNav, he gripped it in one hand and took a purposeful step forward.

The dot blinked, moving just the slightest towards the town.

“Okay, that was not worth the money at all. Maybe I should’ve gotten Wattson to check this out.” Tilting the device around, he sighed and tucked it back into his right pocket, he straightened up and started going by his quick pace once more. “As long as I keep walking straight, I’m bound to get to the lab before nightfall!”

It was nightfall when he finally got to Littleroot.

He was panting as he knocked on the door, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand afterwards as he recalled the amount of wild Pokémon that were not happy about him trespassing on their territory. Maybe there was an actual reason why there wasn’t a path there other than wasting other people’s time. “Um, hello there! I’m a new Trainer, and I’m ready for my Starter.”

There were shuffling sounds from behind the door, and a particularly loud ‘ow’ that echoed a few seconds later. Sawyer took this time to make himself look as presentable as he could, hoping that he wouldn’t be turned away. Sure, he could camp out, but after all he just went through? That would not be a good start.

“Please wait… I’m just—Ah.” The door opened, revealing a large man with a lab coat thrown over his shoulders outlined by splendid indoor lighting. He grinned, clapping his equally large right hand on top of the youth’s head and rubbing it affectionately. “And hello to you too, Sawyer. It’s certainly been a while since we last had contact, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.” If this keeps up, he’s going to get buried where he stood. Smiling awkwardly, he raised a hand to rest on the much bigger arm above him. “Is it okay if we go inside? I’ve been walking for a long time…”

“Of course, of course,” he bellowed cheerily, pulling his hand away to let the boy walk into the door. “Let me get you a drink and some food, you must have had quite an adventure if you made it all this way on foot.”

He gingerly made his way inside, gawking at the dwelling of the Professor Birch. “Thank you very much, sir, it’s really appreciated.” Looking around, he tried to hide his squeal—there were so many books here! Shelves stacked with them, brimming with knowledge passed down through generations, all about Pokémon habitats and distribution. Maybe even more…

The man let out a chuckle as he passed him, giving him a wink. “Pretty impressive, aye? Had to move a lot of these out of the family home since my wife kept telling me to separate work from life, you know how it is. Took a lot of work and some pretty pennies, but I’m glad that it’s not all going to waste.” Putting a packet of noodles into the pot, already full of boiling water from the kettle, he looked over to his new ward. “A new Trainer already, after all this time. Do you know what you’ll choose?”

Sawyer blinked, pulling his hand away from a particularly promising book titled ‘A Focus on Dry Forests and Woodlands’. He did think about it a lot while trekking his way here, and had fluctuated a lot between the three that he could choose. Mudkip, Torchic or Treecko. Water, Fire, Grass. All useful under the right circumstance, but each with their individual drawbacks. And that’s not even accounting their natures or personalities. “Well, I’ve been meaning to ask if I can see them first?” He couldn’t help the hopeful lilt in his voice, and mentally berated himself for it. The Professor is cooking him food, welcoming him into his laboratory, and he dare asks for—

“Sure! They’re in my satchel over there, hanging near the door. The left pocket on the front, you can’t miss it.” His heart, thudding a fast beat, suddenly slowed. He let out a breath, strangely out of wind enough to echo an empty confirmation in reply.

Walk over to the bag. Open the left pocket, watching three shrunken Pokéballs catch the light.

His future. His journey. All within reach.

“Oh, and be careful. Sometimes they can get a little rowdy.”

He didn’t take his eyes off them. “Okay.” Carefully cradling the balls in his hand, he sat down on his knees and gently threw them down one by one. Three bright flashes of light obscured his vision, before revealing the Pokémon.

Torchic immediately looked up and down Sawyer before letting out a huff, turning their head away haughtily. Maybe not that one, though he never really held much hope out for Fire-Types in the first place. He turned his attention to Mudkip, who was… staring at him. By the Ancient Power, does he have something on his face? Frantically patting his cheeks, he almost missed the sound of an amused cry, causing him to turn his head to the one who laughed at his panic.

The only one there was a Treecko, cocking their head at their eye contact from the nearby wall they were climbing up. Nodding at what they saw, they got out a webbed hand and waved it over their face, shaking it afterwards with an unimpressed look. Sawyer looked on dumbly for a few seconds, before scrabbling back to sitting back straight on his knees (somehow he was craning his neck so far out that his nose was right next to the Pokémon). “Uh,” he started, before coughing into his elbow and trying again. “Um, thanks a lot for your help!”

“Treecko, tree.” They turned away and went back to scaling the wall once more. Something in Sawyer sparked, something new, foreign, freeing, and his hand slipped over his chest, feeling that heartbeat. Turning to face the Professor, who was pouring the noodles into two bowls, he asked, “Do you know the gender of that Treecko, Professor?”

The man let out a long whistle, wracking his head before clicking his fingers. “Ah! Treecko’s male, a real go-getter and quite the energetic lad. Is that your choice?”

His choice. He continued watching the Wood Gecko Pokémon make his way up, jumping from one spot to another. A little hasty, a little rough around the edges. His own fingers went down even lower, towards his other pocket where he left his journal and pen in, and he took them out; flipped over to a new page to note down what he saw. Quick footwork, sure steps. Innate strength, and a want to be better.

He wanted to be better too. To be the best version of himself. Treecko paused from his most recent perch, swishing his tail indecisively before jumping onto the Professor, right when he was coming in with the bowls of noodles.

(Wincing at the violent crashing sounds, swearing, and general commotion, Sawyer wrote down one last thing in his book before snapping it shut and tucking them back into his pocket. He stood up, firm and strong, and marched himself towards the nearest towels.)

“At least most of it is still in the bowl…”

He never saw the Professor look so bereft before. Treecko was beside him, patting his shoulder with all of the sympathy he could muster, while Sawyer scrubbed the floor. “Not to be repetitive, Professor,” he muttered, trying in earnest to pluck out a particularly stuck noodle from the floorboards, “But are you sure that you weren’t burnt or anything?”

The Professor made a sound that was a little too similar to sniffling. “No, my boy, I’m fine. But my finest creation! Destroyed before a taste.”

“Tree -treecko tree,” the Pokémon next to him grumbled, pointing towards the bowls that were, as previously mentioned, mostly full. “Treecko- tree, tree treecko!”

“I’m sure you’re right, Treecko; these last few days have really played havoc on my nerves lately. But it still doesn’t give you the right to pull that sort of reckless manoeuvre on me.” Sighing, he put a hand in his head and got up, clicking his tongue in chagrin. “What am I to do with you?”

The boy perked up, feeling his chance coming in fast. “If it’s okay, can I observe Treecko for a while?” The Pokémon turned towards him, giving him an incredulous look. He put his hands up in defence. “Hey, if you want me to ask you then maybe don’t jump on such important people in the first place.”

Treecko rolled his eyes, folding his arms as his tail thumped the ground emphathetically. Birch chuckled good-naturedly, watching their dynamic with a sense of intrigue. “I’ll do you one better; why don’t the two of you travel together instead?”

“Travel together?” he replied, looking confused. Treecko looked up towards the ceiling, seemingly asking for patience from a deity far above them all. The trainer made a balled fist and started to hit it against his flat hand, thinking to himself about the many implications that might hold for him.

He opened his eyes when he heard a scraping sound, beholding a steaming half-full noodle bowl sliding towards him and a Professor smiling down at him. “How about we discuss it after some dinner?” Before he could open his mouth, he raised his own bowl and added, “I’ve also got a spare room for the night, so don’t worry yourself about it. Tomorrow you’ll have the whole rest of your life for your journey, so I wouldn’t waste too much brainpower this late at night if I were you.”

Nodding silently, he grabbed the offered fork and dug in, on the floor that he was cleaning right next to the Professor Birch… who was eating besides him, laughing at Mudkip’s questioning gurgle as it tried to move towards the yummy smell and slipped on the ground and scrabbling away from the temperamental Torchic that wasn’t afraid to use their Ember attack against the percieved slight of an unasked pat.

Huh. He seems like such a normal man…

(Treecko looks at him, yellow eyes reading his face)

Just before the sun was up Sawyer was already slipping his clothes on, running down the stairs while tugging his vest on and patting his pockets to make sure that everything was exactly where it should be. Today was the day! Well, yesterday was supposed to be the day, but he’ll take what he can get.

Running down the stairs as quickly as he could, he slowed down once he felt a light tap of the top of his head. Looking upwards he found Treecko giving him a cocky shake of his head, stuck on the wall a little above him. “Treecko!”

He rubbed the place where he was gently boinked, rubbing his eyes to make sure that it wasn’t his imagination. He was pretty sure that he returned everyone back into their Pokéballs before he slept. “Aren’t you supposed to be…” He shook his own head, extending his arm towards the Pokémon. “Well, I doubt it matters anyways. Do you want to come with me to see the Professor?”

Treecko sniffed the hand before crawling onto it, chirping his consent. Feeling giddy over gaining his trust, Sawyer pulled his arm at an angle to allow better grip before walking over to the common area and called out, “Good morning, Professor! Is it okay for me to make my choice now?”

No response. He walked over to the window after making sure that no one was around, opening it and letting in natural light. Looking over to the Pokémon on his arm, he gave an awkward smile. “Seems like it’s just us right now. Do you mind waiting him out for a bit with me?”

“Treecko.” The Grass Starter hopped off his arm, quickly scuttling away on the ground with both hands and feet. The trainer took a step forward, wondering if he should follow, when he felt something knock his shoes.

He looked down.

His reflection glinted back on the surface of a Pokéball, a smug Treecko slinking towards him and standing up to face him.

Oh. Oh.

“Do you… want to come with me?” he said, trying to control his voice. By the Great Land, the Great Sea and the Great Sky, he did not expect to wake up to this. He never planned for this, honestly, any of this, and his lip stiffened as his hand ghosted the pocket where he left his journal in.

You can’t get a first chance again. Here he is, standing in front of Treecko, a Pokéball inbetween them.

No Professor. No formal recognition. No Pokédex, or witnesses. Just a Trainer starting out on their first journey, and a Pokémon that’s choosing to come along. Yep, totally orthodox. Nothing strange about it.

“Well, if it’s any consolation,” he needed to swallow then, patting his chest to get his voice out in something other than a squeak, “I really liked you too. But are you sure?”

The Treecko rolled his eyes. He knocked the Pokéball into his chosen Trainer’s hand with his tail, quickly climbing up his back to tap the button on it over his shoulders. A red flash and one shake later, the ball nestled in his numb hands sparked with a ding.

It’s done.

“That’s one way to start your journey,” Birch piped up by the banister nearby, and Sawyer fell to the floor in shock.