In short, this "big summer blockbuster" is a story I thought up awhile ago and put on TPM. It's the story about a young boy on his journey, cursed with a metal right arm. Metal limbs aren't uncommon in the world of Pokémon, but this kid's is... rather special.
How special, you wonder? You'll have to read on.
I've already written seven chapters so far, so updating won't be that big of an issue. Right now, I'll post the prologue in addition to the first chapter. Enjoy the read:
THE KYUUSAISHA
I
The crowds went wild on this particular day. The darkened skies filled the abyss around the great Indigo Plateau stadium. It was indeed one hell of a match thus far. Two trainers stood at opposite ends of the field watching as their trained “beasts” fought against one another. The announcer boomed across the wave of screaming fans, just trying to compete with them, “This is definitely one hell of a match so far, folks,” he yelled aloud, “the challenger has already lost all of his Pokemon save for this last one, and the reigning champ still has one left in reserve.”
The announcer may have been a bit too harsh on the challenger however. His large steel serpent towered over the other trainer’s Sceptile, which was quite tired nonetheless. With one last squeeze, the evolved Onix, or “Steelix” moreover, managed to down his opponent before letting out a harsh cry of victory. Steelix unwound himself from his felled prey, and the green dragon collapsed in exhaustion. The champ smirked to himself before holding out a red and white-colored ball. In an instant, the Sceptile dematerialized into a collection of red energy just before being withdrawn into the ball.
00
in his shadow
The reigning champ was much older than he used to be; his jet-black hair remained untamed beneath a red cap. The man was garbed in blue jeans and a black top, with a large leather belt holding the jeans up. Just before signaling for his last Pokemon to approach the center arena, the man gazed into the audience, scanning for the two persons he was really in this for. A few moments passed and he finally located them--a slim girl with blue eyes and orange-reddish hair that flowed down to her shoulders, and a three-year old child in the seat next to her: his wife and child.
Smirking to himself, the man swiftly jerked his baseball cap backwards, and signaled for the tiny yellow mouse that stood patiently next to him, battle hungry. It was only fitting for him to use his starter Pokemon to defeat the only obstacle in his way of becoming a champion once more, and on his retiring match, no less.
“Pika,” cried the tiny mouse as he made his way into the field, being harshly stared down by the towering steel serpent that stood before him.
The announcer was quite nerved by the thought, but alas the man seemed confident, “It would appear that the reigning champ has once again decided to go with Pikachu,” he announced, “can he win one more title with the tiny electric type?”
Whilst his adversary held a certain poise in his weak-looking Pokemon, Rode cried out to him, “If you think that worthless rat can take down ma Steelix, you’s got another thing comin!” His voice was rough, reminiscent of a bully from one of those after school dramas. With a rude tone in his expression, Rode commanded his Steelix, “Use your Earthquake attack, Steelix!”
The very large silver snake roared allowed, trying to intimidate the rodent before attacking, but alas the tiny Pikachu looked to be much smarter than he had anticipated. The older trainer readied his strategy, “Pikachu, use Quick Attack and scale Steelix’s body. Then, use Thunderbolt!”
Ready fully, the overly dramatic Steelix slammed downwards causing quite a stir on the arena floor, but there was no one to target as the smaller Pikachu climbed up the large snake’s metallic hide. Steelix looked around with a confused look upon his stony features, trying to locate his adversary. Unfortunate, he wasn’t able to do so as the Pikachu reached the top of the massive behemoth’s stair-like body and released a fully charged Thunderbolt. Brilliant flashes of yellow light emerged from the tiny mouse, bringing great pain the massive behemoth. The crowds roared in excitement, there was no chance that the announcer’s words would be heard, so he just elected to stop relaying to them what they themselves already saw. He merely stared in awe, amazed that Steelix was even alive after such a brutal attack.
Rode’s further banter was quite appalling, “You gonna take ‘dat, Steelix,” he shouted loudly, “quickly slam ‘dat rodent to ‘da ground!”
Shaking off the unwanted felling of shock, Steelix proceeded to allow himself to fall, hopefully to land on the aforementioned yellow rodent. Not even having to be given an order from his trainer, the Pikachu quickly leapt from Steelix’s rapid thrust downwards, squealing out, “PIKA!”
As the large metal snake crashed upon the Indigo arena floor, a cloud of smoke lifted into the field before slowly dissipating into the air. Steelix tried valiantly to pull himself back up, and Pikachu stood upon the opposite end with a mischievous smirk upon his features, “Pikachu.”
“Excellent work, Pikachu,” said his trainer, “now finish him off with Thunder!”
Knowing full well that Steelix couldn’t possibly get up in time to avoid the massive spell, Pikachu took a few moments to charge up a great amount of electricity within his red cheeks. His eyes were slammed shut; concentrating heavily on the grand display that would inevitably follow. When he was confident that the blow would be enough to fell the massive titan, Pikachu stopped charging and opened his eyes. The small yellow rodent ran towards the larger, who was still trying to pull himself up, and stopped just a few inches in front of him. With a roaring voice, Pikachu cried out, “Pika…CHU!”
The arena once again lit up as Pikachu’s entire body erupted in a massive storm of electric energy. The Steelix cried out in pain as the thunderous spell enveloped his metallic figure. A few seconds would pass, and Steelix just couldn’t take the pain anymore and closed his eyes, obviously defeated. Pikachu sensed his enemy’s fall, and stopped his assault.
The referee ran over to the felled behemoth, blowing his whistle loudly, “Steelix is unable to battle. Pikachu is the winner.”
Once more, the crowds erupted into a sea of loud cheers. Rode pulled out his Pokemon’s black-colored Poke Ball, revealing with it his large metal arm in the process. His opponent made a note of it as Rode quickly withdrew his sixth fallen Pokemon.
III
An hour had passed, and no longer were there any people in the audience. They had all perhaps left to go on and do other things. Meanwhile, the retired champion walked alone in the hallways. All his life he wanted to be a trainer, and while his friends, his peers, left the adventure to go onto bigger and better things, he stayed behind, and trained harder and harder. His catalog of Pokemon only had six members; others were stolen from the professor’s laboratory a long time ago in a hellish robbery, thus leaving him with the ones that he fought with tonight. And now he was retired. He walked away from the game with three championships on his mantle, including this one.
He wandered through the halls until he met two smiling faces. He couldn’t help but give them the same gesture as he walked over to them. The older red head said to her husband, “You did good, hon.”
His three-year old son, his name was Hawthorne, he hobbled over to his father with a great flashy smile upon his face, “You did it, Daddy!”
However, those three weren’t the only ones in the hall that night, no-no. Rode wandered over to his defeater, with an unusual smile upon his face. The champion turned to face him, “Yes?”
“That was a great battle,” he said, extending his metal hand to the father, “no hard feelings?”
He couldn’t help but smile back as he too offered his hand, “No problem, Rode,” he said.
As the father took the challenger’s hand, you couldn’t help but note the eerie smile placed upon the man’s features. It was if he had lost his mind. Sure enough, he had. When he noticed that the person who defeated him had his hand secure, Rode jerked away and the arm stuck. Rode quickly ran away as the trio stared with confused looks upon their faces. It wasn’t until a few seconds later that they heard the constant ticking coming from Rode’s metal arm, tick, tick, tick.
The father tried desperately to toss the arm away, but when he couldn’t, he signaled for his wife to guard the child they two shared protectively. The red-haired woman stared at her husband with several tears on her face until a massive blast enveloped the hallway.
VI
Or at least, that’s what they said. “No hard feelings?” My ass. My name is Hawthorne, and I lost my father that night, twelve years ago. I am fifteen years old now, and I so desperately want to find the man to took his life away. Not only did he take my father from me, he also took my arm. So desperately my mother tried to shield me from the inevitable destruction, but she couldn’t all the way. My right arm disappeared that night, vaporized by the explosion; or at least that’s what they said.
I’m going on a journey tomorrow. I want to follow in my father’s dream, to carry out his spirit, but I don’t want to be remembered as, “His son.”
That’s why I’m dropping the surname. My name is Hawthorne, and that is what I’ll be remembered as… not… “His son.”
I
I awoke this morning to a particularly unbroken beeping noise coming from my alarm clock. Pikachu was lazily nesting on my chest, so I patted him on his head to signal him to wake up, “Pika,” the yellow rodent perched, looking around my bedroom before leaping onto the carpeted floor. With Pikachu no longer keeping me there, I freely stepped out of my comfortable bed and rubbed my eyes to greet the bedroom walls. With a swift motion, I turned the alarm clock off and thus the annoying beeps subsided.
Yawning deeply, my thoughts began to return as I remembered what today was. Today was the day when I’d start my journey all around Kanto. While I wouldn’t be getting a starter Pokemon like the richer kids in the bigger cities, I made sure that I wouldn’t be going alone. Pallet Town wasn’t the starting town anymore for aspiring trainers, no-no. Ever since Oak’s laboratory got robbed of all the Pokemon, the officials closed down his lab and relocated the him to Saffron City, the most affluent town in this region.
But like I said, I wouldn’t be going this journey alone, no-no. Mother insisted that I take her old Pokemon with me, Starmie. Starmie was no doubt a strong fighter, certainly stronger than what the other kids were starting out with. I believe they received Charmander, Bulbasaur, or Squirtle nowadays. Regardless, I anxiously opened my closet door and pulled from their hangers a black sleeveless shirt and matching slacks. Pulling the clothes on, I stepped out of my bedroom and greeted Mother.
She was depressed, no doubt. Ever since Father’s death, her cheerfulness was replaced with anguish. Though she tried to hide it from me, I could tell that she wasn’t at peace with herself. Her beautiful eyes of cerulean shade grew dull and listless day after day, almost as if she wanted to go with Father when he died.
“Morning, Hawthorne,” she said to me with a smile.
“You too, Mother,” I replied to her, hiding my anxiousness with a calm tone. Certainly, she knew I was faking it. The poor woman had to listen to me talk about this journey for months now.
“Pika, pika,” said Pikachu, with an annoyed expression on his face.
“Well good morning to you too, Pikachu,” Mother said to him. With her refreshing words, Pikachu’s solemn grimace was quickly replaced with a jovial smirk.
We weren’t a well-off family by any means. Mother and I were struggling, using the earnings that Father won as prize money to keep us healthy. Occasionally, Mother would find odd jobs to work just to keep the currency flow up to par, but she just couldn’t handle it without Father.
01
the journey begins
I ate a great breakfast, mostly because it would be the best meal I would have in a long while. Fully nourished, I reached for my backpack with my right arm and just stared openly at it. When the blast took my arm twelve years ago, the doctors replaced it with a prosthetic one. That served its purpose for the year, then each sequential year I had a new one to replace it as I grew up until just recently. When I finally stopped growing, Mother elected for an arm more suiting for my persona--a fully metallic one. A few days later, a strange man rapped at our door with the metal arm; he said he was here to install it. The process of the installation was very painful; he had to attack my every nerve to it, thus allowing me to use it as swiftly as a regular arm.
I didn’t particularly like having any fake arm whatsoever; the constant reminder of his death lingered through the metallic shine of my unreal appendage, but at least I could keep the metal arm hidden, and I intended to. I grabbed the particularly long black cloak off its hanger, and slid it over my shoulders. I pulled my left arm through its proper sleeve, and left the right arm hanging within, keeping it concealed from the world.
Mother walked over to me with the red and white colored Poke Ball in her hand. I could sense the tears that would inevitably fall from her eyes when I stepped out that door, but as usual, she kept her emotions hidden, “Here you go, hon,” she said as she handed over to me the small, marble-sized ball.
“Thanks,” I said to her before a brief pause. I turned to the door, but before opening it, a stinging sense of guilt came over mine senses, “You know, Mother,” I said to her, “I don’t have to go on this journey… if you don’t want me to.”
“Nonsense,” she said to me. I knew that at this point her eyes were beginning to tear up, “this is your dream. Your father would be proud of you.”
I never really got the chance to really know Father that well. He was a great trainer, sure. But other than that, all my memories of him were a haze. He sure was tall though. I always remembered him towering over me, and even though I was probably taller than he was way back then, I still couldn’t picture him being shorter than me.
“Are… are you certain,” I asked her, turning to face Mother as the tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Yes,” she replied, “your father always wanted you to follow in his footsteps.”
“Y-yeah…”
I didn’t waste any time before wrapping my arms around her. She did the same as she sobbed into my black coat. Our embrace was tight, and I almost didn’t want to let go. I stood taller than Mother over the past few years, almost six inches in fact. We continued the embrace for a few minutes until a particular rapping at our front door interrupted us.
Pulling apart, Mother quickly wiped the tears away and answered the door. With a surprised look upon her face, she greeted the older fellow at the door; “Can I help you?”
“Yes,” said the older man, “when I was walking home one evening I stumbled upon this Poke Ball,” he informed her, showing her the particular red and white-colored Poke Ball in his hands, “I wanted to see what Pokemon was inside, and found out that a trainer at this address used to have one just like it.”
“A trainer… at this address?”
“Indeed,” affirmed the old man. He then proceeded to summon the Pokemon from its Poke Ball. A white flash of light, and a Pokemon, familiar to Mother it seemed, emerged from it.
“That’s…” Her words were silent, but I knew what she said. The mysterious part was why she said them. No doubt was the Pokemon familiar to her; perhaps it belonged to her when she was a little girl.
“Heracross,” cried the stag beetle Pokemon. Stag beetle? That couldn’t be right. Mother hated bugs, especially big ones like Heracross. My thoughts were interrupted as the aforementioned stag beetle walked over to me and wrapped his tiny arms around my legs.
“Why… is he doing this,” I asked anyone.
“You must remind him of your father,” Mother explained.
“Father? Is that who this Pokemon belonged to?”
Mother simply nodded, “He was stolen from the professor’s laboratory before he passed away.”
“He died,” the old man queried.
“Yes,” Mother said to him, “he was murdered twelve years ago.”
Obviously Mother wasn’t too keen on delving further into the subject, so I politely said good-bye to the kind stranger and slammed shut the door. No doubt he was puzzled, but I’m sure he just headed back home. Heracross continued to hold my legs tightly. “I think he likes me,” I said to Mother in hopes to ease the quiet pain looming inside her.
“I think you should take him with you, Hawthorne,” she said, “he seems to be quite attached to you.”
“Yeah,” I replied, taking the bug’s Poke Ball and promptly returning it, “I will.”
Mother proceeded in handing me the shiny red Pokedex that once belonged to Father, requesting only that I take good care of it… for obvious reasons.
“If you need me for any reason, Mother,” I said to her, “please call; no matter what I’m doing, I’ll come back to Pallet Town immediately.”
III
Hours had passed, and I had finally stepped out of the borders of Pallet Town. My journey had officially began. The first stop would be Viridian City, where I would battle with the Gym Leader and gain my first badge.
The Pokemon League was much different than it was when Father walked Kanto. For starters, Lavender Town opened a Gym that had a required badge. I’m not certain what type of Pokemon the Gym Leader used, but I was pretty sure it had something to do with ghosts. Because of its mass, Saffron City now housed two official gyms--the Spirit Gym and the Soul Gym (which had recently swapped names with the Marsh Gym of Fuchsia). Viridian City was no longer helmed by Giovanni; once the league found out about his ties with the infamous Team Rocket, they promptly had him sign a waiver of resignation. He and Team Rocket haven’t been heard from since then. Many of the Gym Leaders left their duties shortly after they heard about what happened to Father, which was a shame because they were very good at battling.
I took a refreshing sigh as the bright summer sun bathed my pale flesh. It was mid-afternoon, and I still had quite a ways to go before I’d reach Viridian City. I decided to call out Mother’s old Pokemon, Starmie. Pulling the small Poke Ball from my belt, I pressed the button at the center and it quickly grew to the size of my palm. I tossed the ball to the grassy floor and the purple starfish hovered in the air, dancing seemingly.
“Hya,” the starfish cried out.
“Hello, Starmie,” I said to him. Starmie is a peculiar Pokemon that doesn’t have a gender, so I just went go with the neutral sex and called him a “he”.
Starmie was loyal to Mother, so when she requested the he go with me on my journey, he happily obliged. And while I didn’t get a free Pokemon from one of those professors, I was still pretty lucky. Only half a day in my travels, and I already had two strong looking Pokemon. No Charmander, Bulbasaur, or Squirtle could compare to Starmie and Heracross.
While I wandered aimlessly through the roads, Starmie hovered beside me, spraying various different trees and bushes with his Water Gun as I instructed. I was trying to measure Starmie’s strength; it would seem that all his years of being with Mother had made him quite the powerful Pokemon.
As the hot summer sun beat down on my features, I calmly requested that Starmie throw a Water Gun in my direction. He gave me a funny look, or well, as funny a look that a starfish could give, but then proceeded to do so lightly when I asked him again. The cool, refreshing water felt good on my skin, and we continued our trek down route one.
I began to worry about Mother. I hoped that she wouldn’t be lonely without me being there with her. Of course not… she had Pikachu at the very least. Even Mimey was there to help around the house. I neglected to mention; my family inherited a Mr. Mime appropriately named “Mimey” from my late grandmother. He was well-trained and enjoyed doing house work. I’m not sure why that was, though.
As my uncertainties soon became pacified, I continued my trek and Starmie followed behind. A few steps forward and my eyes slowly turned to face something off beat in the bushes. The shade of green that caught my eyes didn’t seem to match the shade of green emitted from the aforementioned bush. I walked closer to the strange occurrence, but accidentally stepped on a twig, which made an unsettling snapping sound. A creature emerged from the bush with a frightened look about him.
A Pokemon, I thought to myself. I drew out the shiny red Pokedex and scanned the unfamiliar creature.
The electronic voice greeted me, “Treecko, the wood gecko Pokemon,” it explained, “using it’s strong tail, Treecko commonly pounds his attackers into submission.”
What’s a Treecko doing all the way out here in Kanto, I thought to myself, remembering from my biology classes that Treecko was native to the Hoenn region. But rather than fumble on the very thought, I turned to Starmie who seemed to be ready for a battle regardless. I nodded to him, and he readied himself to attack.
“Starmie, use Water Gun!” Albeit water attacks weren’t very effective on a grass type, I was confident in Starmie’s strength. The purple starfish Pokemon cried out as he volleyed a concentrated beam of water towards the tinier grass element.
“Treecko,” he cried out as the water crashed into his torso. Pulling himself back up, the Treecko angrily ran over to Starmie, pounding him with his large dark green tail.
Puzzled, I gazed at the Pokedex, scanning through the encyclopedia to see what other attacks my Starmie had learnt over the past few years. I searched through the different pages until I found one that looked pretty useful, “Starmie, use Rapid Spin!”
“Hya,” Starmie cried out as he spun over to the Treecko with impeccable speed. Each of his many fins slapped the gecko repeatedly until Treecko fell to the ground, defeated.
“Great work, Starmie,” I praised the Pokemon whilst digging through my backpack for a vacant Poke Ball. Finally finding one, I drew it out and closed my eyes, hoping that my first catch would go over smoothly. With a swift motion, I hurled the ball over to the felled Pokemon, “Poke Ball, go!” The ball sailed through the air and slapped Treecko in the side before opening up and dematerializing him into solidified energy. The red energy was absorbed into the Poke Ball just before closing, and it shook once, twice, three times… then stopped. The red light flashing on the center button faded away, signifying that the Pokemon was caught.
With a great smirk upon my features, I ran over the Poke Ball and held it up high with my right hand, “I caught my first Pokemon!”
The excitement finally eased, and I called out the tiny gecko Pokemon so I could cure him with some healing spray. Treecko opened his eyes and greeted me with an uneasy smirk. I sprayed him with the spray, and in a few moments his wounds were fully refreshed. Amazed, the Treecko cried out, “Treecko!”
I summoned Heracross so that my three Pokemon could get to know one another; all three of them seemed to enjoy each other’s company. I let them all remain outside of their Poke Balls, and we walked, hovered, or flew through routes one and two together.



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