Patrick’s eyes opened wide as he stared at his clock, ticking to 9:00 AM. The moment the alarm sounded he slammed it off and pounced off his bed. He stretched his limbs out and pulled the curtains open. Daylight streamed into the room, coloring the mess he made yesterday with a faint pristine yellow light. Pamphlets with pictures of the three starters were littered all around the table. Patrick wrinkled his nose as he looked at Grookey, Scorbunny, and Sobble. None of those were his choice. Not even close. He glanced at the mirror, his red curly hair was all frizzled up, but he shrugged and opened his bedroom door dashing down the stairs to the dining room.

  “Stop stomping the ground while going down the stairs. You’re acting like a Dubwool,” Mom said with a smile on her face as she placed the second plate of omelet on the table.

  “Okay! Umm, Mom, can I take the omelet back into the room with me? I want to practice my Pokemon trainer skills.”

  Mom’s smile grew even larger, “Sure, sweetie. Whatever makes my big boy happy on his important day’s eve!”

  “Thanks, Mom!”

  Patrick took his plate and sprinted up the flights of stairs, remembering to not stomp the stairs at the final few steps. He entered the room and wiped the mess Amber made the other night on the floor, scattering the pamphlets around as he placed his omelet instead. The Mimikyu plush that slept with him that night accompanied him on his breakfast as well. He took a spoon of the egg as he made it fly like an airplane towards the plush Mimikyu’s face.

  “Here comes the plane!” Patrick said with a huge smile and a baby voice. “Who’s a good boy? Who? You’re the good—”

  The door slammed open and Amber, Patrick’s crush and childhood friend, stood there, her mouth gaping open. Her Vulpix dropped from her hands as they both stared with confusion. Patrick’s face burned red as he remembered his bed head and his Mimikyu antics.

  “Sorry, Patrick. I tried to stop her but you know how Amber is. Surely you’re used to it by now,” Mom panted as she climbed the stairs.

  Patrick pushed the Mimikyu plush to the ground, hiding it under the table as Amber’s face flushed and she tried to grab the door handle, failing a few times before slamming the door shut. Silence filled the house as Patrick’s blush never subsided.

  “Pat, I didn’t see anything, don’t worry about it.” Amber’s muffled voice came through the cracks. “Take your time getting ready, I’ll be waiting here.”

  Patrick got out of his stupor and changed his pajamas, washing his hair and getting his curls hydrated.

  “Come in,” he said with faint heat in his cheeks.

  “Today’s the day I convince you to choose one of the starters. I bet you a few Pokeballs that I’ll convince you to reconsider. Not that I have any Pokeballs right now, but you can place them on my tab for the future.”

  Patrick stomped the ground beside the table his omelet was on. He turned around and glared at Amber. “Can you please stop? I won’t choose a starter, they’re all lame. Mimikyu’s the only one I want.”

  Amber clenched her fists as she stared at Patrick. “You need a starter Patrick. They’re called that for a reason. They’re easy to take care of, evolve at reasonable levels, and have important and essential typings. Just pick one, any one and then go catch your bloody Mimikyu.”

  “It doesn’t work like that,” Patrick’s face reddened but it wasn’t blushing this time, “Mimikyu is going to be my first partner, my first Pokemon, I won’t accept any other replacement.”

  “But—”

  Patrick rushed past Amber as he opened the door and sprinted down the stairs, exiting his house.

  The smell of freshly cut grass bombarded his nostrils as the sunlight blinded his vision. A few Wooloo grazed the grass around Postwick—the Galar small town that Patrick called home. To its side a foggy, creepy forest stood—Slumbering Weald. Patrick rushed inside said forest, jumping over a branch and ducking under another. The fog hung around his body, filling his clothes with humidity. It took him a bit as he ran until he reached a clearing in the forest.

  “Mimikyu! Mimikyu! Where are you?!” Patrick shouted calling out to the forest, not worried about the high-leveled Pokemon that resided in this forest.

  He kept calling for a bit more till the bushes at the edge of the clearing rustled. Mimikyu appeared through the bush, his face—the one at the bottom of the cloth and not the mimic at the top—smiling. Patrick ran over and embraced him. Mimikyu’s warmth seeping through his body into his bones. With a baby voice Patrick repeated the happenings of that morning, this time with a real Mimikyu and not a plush.

  As they kept the warm embrace up, Patrick remembered the first time he met Mimikyu. He was a six-year-old then, a naive child who thought he could brave the Slumbering Weald after Amber challenged him. He got lost almost immediately and the sounds of roars and grunts all around him in the forest kept him on edge. He found this same clearing and sat on a log bawling his eyes out. Gusts of wind battered Patrick’s face as his tears flew into the trees behind him. He raised his head slowly, his heart thumping onto his chest, his breath caught in his throat. Metal clinked as the creature moved, its eyes shining through the slits of its helmet-like head. A Corviknight. It stared at Patrick with malice. Bloodlust emanated off its body as it swooped down at Patrick.

  His entire body froze in place as he felt something warm fill his pants. But Corviknight didn’t reach him; it was too busy dealing with something else, someone else. Mimikyu stood in front of Patrick, blocking the blows and attacking back. The Corviknight traded a few blows before deeming it not worth its time and flying away. Patrick stared at the small Mimikyu, the rag that fought a full blown armored bird, the size of a tree. He envied it for its courage and power as he stared down at his wet pants.

  He looked at the present Mimikyu, the one in his embrace, cuddling up to him. In the past, he had envied it for its power; tomorrow he’s going to be the wielder of that power. A wave of giddiness shook his body as his smile widened, staring down at Mimikyu’s small face. Pokemon cries filled the forest around them, as bushes rustled with the passing of the wind. Through the thick canopies above them, Patrick noticed the cloudy sky—another rainy day in Galar, no doubt. He hugged Mimikyu tighter. With him around, even rainy days became warm.

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  “Patrick! Patrick!” A familiar voice called out in the woods as Patrick’s cheeks flushed. “Eek! A Blipbug!”

  Mimikyu jumped out of Patrick’s embrace, rushing over to Amber’s cry. Patrick had no choice but to follow. Amber was on the floor, crawling backwards, trying to put distance between her and the Blipbug. The poor bug type just stared at her as it tilted its head. Mimikyu growled as it looked at the Blipbug. He used a move on his own. Three orbs of eerie, blue flame danced around Mimikyu before flying towards the poor Blipbug, burning it. Will-O-Wisp. It ran away in fear as Mimikyu stood tall and proud.

  Patrick patted Mimikyu’s head. “Good job, Mimikyu! Although, I don’t think that poor Blipbug even wanted to fight.”

  Amber got up and brushed her dress’s hem, her face flushing slightly. “Well, it’s its fault for being a bug type.”

  Patrick tilted his head. “Umm—”

  Amber’s eyes flared as she glared at Patrick, who swallowed his words. They walked silently into the clearing as they sat on the log.

  “Patrick…” Amber looked at him, her eyes pleading. “Please. Give me a chance. I’m sure at least one of them caught your eye. True?”

  Patrick tapped his feet on the ground as his Mimikyu leaned its head on his lap, making the decision harder. Amber glared at Mimikyu, who lifted its head up instantly, putting some distance between it and Patrick.

  “I mean…they aren’t bad. That’s all I can say. But I can’t accept not having Mimikyu as my partner. It saved my life! I would’ve been dead by some Corviknight’s talons before I even had the chance to think about what starter to choose. But it swooped in, unleashed an incredible Shadow Claw, and scared the Corviknight off. If you had seen it, you would’ve hated your Vulpix, I’ll tell you that much.”

  Amber petted Mimikyu. She stared at Patrick, silence filling the forest. “I understand your attachment, but you need a starter, and Professor Sonia wouldn’t give you one if you already have a Pokemon. It’s literally simple maths. Get a starter, come here to the forest, catch Mimikyu: then you have two Pokemon in your party. But if you catch Mimikyu first, you’d never get a starter. You won’t even find one in the wild.”

  Patrick rubbed his eyes as he stared at Mimikyu, who stood snuggling up to Amber. She had a point, he knew that. She was always smarter than him, but she also wasn’t saved by Mimikyu. She didn’t understand what he went through. This wasn’t a simple formula for becoming the best trainer. This was choosing your fated partner. And he’d be damned if he let anyone else take that spot away from his beloved Mimikyu. He stood up, stretched his body out, and looked at Amber.

  “I’m sorry for running away in the morning. But…” He looked at the trees and the way back to his house. “I did the right thing. And I’m still set on getting Mimikyu first. So…will you stop trying to convince me or will I have to replicate the run I did this morning?”

  Disappointment painted her face. She thought this one was the one. This time, the gears turned in his head. Amber punched her thigh. She was close. One day was left, and she knew she could convince him. She had him in the palm of her hand. She raised her arms. “I give up. Though, I’ll give you a heads up. I’ll be coming tomorrow morning and picking you up at dawn. We’re heading to Professor Sonia together and on the way we’ll choose you a starter. I suggest Grookey, as I’ll be picking Sobble and you’ll need a type advantage to get even close to beating me.”

  Patrick scoffed. “Yeah sure. I’ll be able to beat you with just my Mimikyu against your two Pokemon. Vulpix and Sobble. Wait a minute…even if I picked Grookey, your Vulpix is super effective against him. If you pick Sobble my only choice is either picking Sobble and having a super effective matchup and a not very effective matchup or having a bad matchup with the other two options.”

  Amber looked at Patrick and smiled. “Checkmate.”

  Despite his frustration, looking at her smile made his heart flutter. The moment he beat her in their duel tomorrow, he was going to confess. They parted ways just outside Slumbering Weald and he went to his house, as the sun set behind it, coloring the sky in a painting of orange. He rushed up the stairs into his bed. Right beside his bed stood his hiking backpack. He had packed it three times already. Sleeping bag, rations, matches, flammable objects, escape ropes. Everything was ready for tomorrow. While trying to sleep, he processed his plan of confession.

  He knew it wouldn’t be the right time as they both would have their hands filled with trainer duty, but he couldn’t wait longer. He’d look cool if he said it right after beating her fair and square with one Pokemon against two. And she could somehow find a more handsome boy once she started her journey—the options were plentiful to begin with—so he wanted to just get his feelings out. He would also have nothing holding him back as he entered the gym challenge and tried to become a Pokemon Champion.

  Patrick’s eyes snapped open and he jumped off his bed. This time around he didn’t even set an alarm. He knew he would either wake up early or Amber would knock him out of sleep. The former was the better option, though. He changed his clothes in a blur and skipped breakfast. He opened his front door and found Amber doubled over, panting, her cheeks painted red with the effort of the run. Despite the sun behind her coloring the fields yellow, popping the many flowers’ colors, Patrick’s eyes were glued to one thing. The most beautiful thing in his field of vision: Amber’s eyes.

  He stood there dumbfounded as he realized just how deep his affection went. Amber straightened her back and nodded at someone behind him. Patrick turned around and found Mom standing, wiping tears from the corner of her eyes. They shared farewells and went on their way. Amber walked with a sharp demeanor, not caring to look at the beautiful landscape around her or the many wild Pokemon grazing the fields in the horizon. She used to be enthralled by their presence, vowing to make absolute units out of them, but this time was different. She was locked in, staring straight ahead to Wedgehurst.

  The walk was brief, and they found themselves in the front field of the huge lab. The building had three stories, lined by ivory green stained glass. A large Pokeball was drawn on the wall just above the door. The door swung open and a group of merry kids exited holding their Pokeballs close to their chests, some even walking happily beside their starters.

  Amber took a deep breath and shook out the nerves from her fingertips. She locked eyes with Patrick and they both nodded. They opened the door and found a clean white marble floor under their feet. The smell of greenery filled the room as many pots lined the ground. To their left stood a wall of bookshelves, all specific to certain subjects the professor researched, some written by her.

  Professor Sonia stood behind a device of sorts. Her orange hair was streaked with many lines of gray. She had her eyeglasses on her head as she usually did. A lab coat covered her body, its hem an inch above the floor, teasing the dust beneath it. A Boltund rushed around Sonia, its paws skittering across the marble floor. It ran with speed and jumped onto Patrick, knocking him onto the floor.

  “Boltund, no!” Professor Sonia shouted as she ran over to Patrick. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head?”

  Her warm voice soothed Patrick as he got off the floor. “No, I’m fine, really.”

  She helped him up and led him to the device, calling Amber as well. “These are the three starters.” She gestured her hand over the Pokeballs. “Who’s your choice?”

  Amber glanced at him and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Remember our discussion yesterday.”

  Patrick glared daggers into the Pokeballs. His brain whirred. He reached out his hand.