Pokemon : An Unexpected Journey

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In a cozy living room filled with light and warmth, Lily sat across from her daughter, Green. 

The air between them was thick with emotions and unspoken words, a mixture of joy, relief, and the awkwardness of years spent apart. 

Around them, the orphanage buzzed with the curious stares of children and staff alike, but in this moment, they might as well have been alone in the world.

Lily couldn't help but let her gaze linger on Green, absorbing every detail as if trying to make up for all the years she'd missed. "Sorry about them," she said softly, gesturing towards the onlookers with a gentle smile, trying to brush off the intrusion into their reunion.

Green responded with a smile of her own and, with a small gesture, summoned Jigglypuff. 

The room's attention shifted instantly. 

The children's eyes widened in amazement at the sight of the Pokémon, while Jigglypuff looked around, clearly confused about its role in this peaceful setting. It had been called upon in times of danger before, but now? 

"Jiggly," it voiced its confusion, scanning the room until it locked eyes with the eager, shining eyes of the children.

To Jigglypuff, those innocent gazes were nothing short of menacing. It knew what was coming; the adoration of children could be overwhelming for a small Pokémon. 

"Jiggly!" it cried out in a mix of horror and protest as it darted away, pursued by a giggling swarm of children.

Green couldn't help but laugh at the dramatic scene unfolding. 

Her partner Pokémon always had a flair for the dramatic. 

She looked around, noticing the staff members trying to make themselves scarce, and turned back to her mother with a knowing glance. 

"Guess you didn't tell them about me," she remarked, a light teasing tone in her voice.

Lily shifted uncomfortably, caught between the joy of having her daughter back and the weight of the past. 

"I... didn't think it was necessary after saying goodbye to my past," she confessed, her voice trailing off into silence.

Green's expression turned serious as she took a sip of her tea, the mood shifting. 

"You accepted that I had died," she stated, not as a question but as a realization of the depth of her mother's grief.

Lily was silent for a moment, grappling with the truth that had shaped her life for years. Finally, she decided honesty was the only path forward. 

"Let me start from after we found out that you were kidnapped," she began, her voice steady but filled with the pain of memories long buried.

.....

[ Flashback ]

[ 4 Years Ago ] 

The morning sun painted the streets of Pallet Town with a golden hue, and the soft rustling of leaves played as a gentle backdrop to the scene. 

As Leaf Fuji and young Green walked hand in hand towards the bus stop, their shadows stretched out before them, dancing on the cobblestone path.

Fuji's tall frame provided a gentle shield against the morning chill, and Green snuggled close to him, her free hand clutching her little backpack. 

Her face was lit up with excitement, her eyes sparkling with anticipation for the day ahead.

"Daddy, today in class, we're going to paint!" Green bubbled, her words tumbling out in a rush. 

"I want to paint a big Jigglypuff with a rainbow tail. And maybe a Squirtle too!"

Fuji chuckled, his deep laughter warm and comforting. 

"That sounds wonderful, Green," he replied, squeezing her hand gently. 

"I can't wait to see your artwork when you come home."

Green beamed up at him, her enthusiasm infectious. 

"Oh! And after painting, we're going to read a new storybook. Sarah said it's about a magical forest with talking trees!"

Fuji's eyes softened as he listened, lost in the wonder of his daughter's world. 

"That sounds like an adventure," he mused. "You'll have to tell me all about it tonight."

They continued on, Green chattering away about the games she planned to play during recess, the new song they'd learn in music class, and her hopes of sharing her lunch with her best friend. 

With every word, her excitement was palpable, and it warmed Fuji's heart to see his daughter so full of life and joy.

As they approached the bus stop, Green paused, turning to face her father. 

"Promise you'll be here when I get off the bus, Daddy?" she asked, her voice soft and hopeful.

Fuji knelt down, meeting her gaze. 

"I promise," he whispered, pulling her into a gentle hug. 

"You have a wonderful day at school, my little artist."

The school bus pulled up with a cheerful beep, and Green scampered aboard, turning to wave one last time before finding her seat.

The moment of warmth and comfort from seeing his daughter off was abruptly interrupted as an unexpected chill swept through. 

It felt like a winter gust, yet the season was summer. 

The sudden drop in temperature made Fuji shiver involuntarily. 

Confused, he glanced around, trying to identify the source of the anomaly.

A gravelly voice behind him said, "Step aside."

Startled, Fuji turned to see a tall figure in a dark hood approaching him. 

The man's stride was purposeful, and Fuji quickly moved out of his path. 

But what caught Fuji's attention most was the gleaming white mask that obscured the man's face. 

It was featureless, except for two dark eyeholes.

For a second, Fuji swore he saw crimson eyes staring at him. 

Before Fuji could react or question the strange man, in the blink of an eye, he vanished.

Bewildered, Fuji blinked several times, hoping his eyes were playing tricks on him. But then, as he looked toward Green's school bus, a chilling sight met his gaze. There, perched atop the bus, was the same hooded figure, looking straight at him. 

A surge of panic washed over Fuji, thoughts of his daughter's safety overwhelming him. Yet, just as quickly as he'd spotted the man, another blink, and the figure was gone. 

The bus turned the corner, leaving no trace of the hooded intruder.

Fuji felt a headache building, his heart racing. 

He pressed a hand to his temple, trying to calm his racing thoughts. 

"Am I hallucinating?" he wondered aloud. 

It all felt too real to be just a figment of his imagination. 

But with no evidence and no witnesses, the uncertainty gnawed at him.

....

Amidst the sterile environment of Professor Oak's laboratory, rows of gleaming glass vials containing fossilized cells of ancient Pokémon glistened. 

These specimens, trapped in amber for millennia, were a testament to a time long gone. 

Fuji was engrossed, peering intently through a microscope at a particularly intriguing sample.

Despite the fascinating research in front of him, an unmistakable weight hung on Fuji's shoulders, making his movements slower, more deliberate. 

Professor Oak, always perceptive, could sense that something was amiss.

"My dear boy," Oak began, his tone gentle, "You seem distracted today. Is something bothering you?"

Fuji sighed deeply, turning from his work to face Oak, "It's... I'm just feeling anxious, Professor."

Oak chuckled, patting Fuji's back reassuringly, "Ah, don't stress yourself out. Your thesis can wait a day or two."

But Fuji shook his head, "It's not about the thesis, Professor. It's just—"

Before he could complete his sentence, the shrill ring of his cellphone interrupted them. Glancing at the screen, Fuji's face paled. It was a call from his wife, Lily. 

Without hesitation, he answered, "Lily? Is everything okay?"

The lab's silence was disrupted by the soft, heart-wrenching sobs emanating from the phone. 

Oak leaned in slightly, concern evident in his eyes.

"Lily?" Fuji's voice grew frantic, "What's happened? Why are you crying?"

Through broken sobs, Lily's voice was barely audible, "Fuji... she's gone."

Fuji felt a cold dread wash over him. His voice rose, panic evident, "Who's gone? Lily, tell me!"

And then, as if time stood still and the weight of the world pressed down on him, he heard the name that shattered his world: "Green."

.....

The once orderly school ground was now a whirlwind of activity, bathed in the flashing red and blue lights of police cars. 

Medical tents had been set up, and paramedics hurriedly attended to the injured children. 

Concerned parents weaved in and out of the crowd, many clutching their children tightly, relief visible on their faces as they took in their kids' bruised but living forms.

Fuji's heart raced as he and Professor Oak hurriedly made their way through the throng of anxious parents. 

The damaged school bus was cordoned off, its roof torn open as if by a tremendous force.

Lily, her eyes red and puffy from crying, was in conversation with Officer Jenny when she caught sight of Fuji. 

Without a word, she broke free from the crowd, sprinting into her husband's arms. Their shared pain was palpable, their embrace offering a brief moment of comfort amidst the chaos.

Breaking the silence, Officer Jenny approached them, her expression grave. "Mr. Fuji, Professor Oak, I wish I had better news. A Pokémon attacked the bus. We've got 12 injured, but they'll make it. However..."

Fuji's voice trembled, "However what? Jenny, please tell me."

Taking a deep breath, Jenny continued, "There's one child missing."

Fuji's eyes widened in horror, already suspecting the answer but needing confirmation. "Who? Who is missing?"

Officer Jenny met his gaze with a sorrowful look. "It's your daughter, Mr. Fuji. Leaf Amber Green."

....

Dr. Fuji's existence was irreversibly shattered the day Green vanished, as if a thick fog had rolled in and made it impossible for him to see beyond the immediate pain of her absence. 

Every ticking second stretched into what felt like hours, with his analytical and precise mind now overwhelmed with the suffocating dread of not knowing where his daughter might be. 

Together with Lily, they partnered with the local police and Pokémon Rangers to initiate one of the most extensive search operations the Kanto region had ever seen.

In their desperate pursuit, they didn't just rely on conventional methods. 

They engaged private investigators, seasoned experts who specialized in tracing the vanished and the hidden, to analyze the movements and associations of any conceivable suspects. 

A hefty reward of 1,000,000 Pokédollars was announced, plastered on every bulletin board, in hopes that it might tempt someone with crucial information to come forward. 

Dr. Fuji and Lily even reached out to renowned mediums, hoping to communicate with the spirit world for clues. They distributed leaflets in every town, city, and hamlet, ensuring that Green's face was recognizable to every individual in the region. 

They tapped into the vast network of underground informants, believing that the shadows might have seen or heard something that the day missed. Billboards bearing Green's image towered over highways, silently pleading with every passerby to remember. 

Radio and TV spots, calling for information, played every hour. And in a move of desperation, they even sought the expertise of the Ace trainers with the help of Professor Oak, hoping their influence and resources might turn the tide in their favor.

But each path they took, every stone they unturned, led to the same agonizing dead end. 

Promising leads fizzled out into nothingness, and the weight of every failed attempt further pressed down on Dr. Fuji's already burdened heart.

The emotional toll was evident on everyone, especially Fuji. 

His once bright eyes now looked weary, and his hope, though not extinguished, wavered. The community rallied around him, with many volunteers joining the search. Yet, days turned into weeks, and weeks into months and months turned to years.

...

One fateful day, as winter's chill began to seep into Pallet Town, the ranger approached Fuji, his face a canvas of sorrow. 

"Dr. Fuji," he began, choosing his words carefully, "we've explored every lead, every hint, every clue. It's been a year now. We need to consider the possibility..."

Fuji's eyes flared with a mixture of rage and despair, "Don't you dare finish that sentence!"

The Ranger sighed heavily, "I have kids of my own, Dr. Fuji. I can't even begin to imagine your pain. But at some point, we have to face reality. The chances of finding Green now... it's unlikely."

The weight of those words crushed Fuji. 

The glimmer of hope that he clung to seemed to fade, replaced by a hollow emptiness. 

He sank to his knees, overwhelmed by grief. 

Jenny, tears streaming down her face, knelt beside him, trying to offer some semblance of comfort. 

"We did everything we could, Fuji. Everything. I promise you, if there's even a hint, a whisper about Green, we will act on it. But for now, for your sake, you need to find a way to move forward."

The once bustling town of Pallet seemed to mourn with Dr. Fuji. 

The tragedy of Green's disappearance resonated with everyone. 

The region's brightest mind, a man of science and logic, was brought to his knees by the cruel unpredictability of life. 

And as the snow began to fall, blanketing the town in a sheet of white, the painful truth settled in: Leaf Amber Green had vanished, leaving behind a void that would never truly be filled.

....

The rooms of the Fuji house, once alive with the radiant energy of a happy family, now bore the oppressive heaviness of grief. The once bright walls, adorned with family pictures and memories, seemed to have dimmed to a shade of gray. From Dr. Fuji's perspective, the vibrancy that was once the essence of their home had been sucked out, replaced by a deafening silence that echoed in his ears.

Every step Fuji took felt like he was trudging through quicksand, every corner he turned, expecting – hoping – to see his bubbly daughter playing or hear her infectious laughter. But each expectation was met with a crushing reality: she was not there.

As he approached the closed door of his wife's room, the place she had confined herself to in her grief, he hesitated. His knuckles softly rapped against the wooden barrier, the sound seeming louder than it should've been in the quiet house. 

"Lily," he began, his voice shaky, "the rangers... they said..."

There was a long silence. 

Then, in a voice he hadn't heard in months, a voice that had lost its warmth but held a steely determination, Lily interrupted, "My daughter is alive."

The conviction in her voice took Fuji aback. He rested his forehead against the door, fighting back tears. 

He wanted so desperately to believe her, to hold onto that hope she clung to with such tenacity. 

But the grueling days and nights, the countless dead ends, had taken their toll on him. 

The ever-realistic scientist within him grappled with the emotions of a broken-hearted father.

Swallowing hard, he whispered, "I want to believe that, Lily. More than anything in the world. But I've been out there, every single day. I've chased every hint, every rumor... and they've led nowhere."

There was another stretch of silence, so profound it felt like a void. When Lily spoke again, her voice was softer, yet unyielding, "Then we keep looking, Fuji. We never stop. Because she's our daughter, and I feel it in my very soul that she's still out there."

Fuji slid down the door, sitting with his back pressed against it. 

For the first time in months, he allowed himself to truly feel the weight of it all, the toll it had taken on him.

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[Omake Paragraph]

A Nincada's eyes are useless and they spit no poisons, yet they are beloved by the ninja, for their antennae hear much more than the speakers wish to be heard. Their adept digging allows them to tunnel easily below houses, and their remarkable senses allow them to not only sense the words of someone three stories above them, but their heart rate and breathing as well. This is why it is said that Nincada hear the truth while others hear only words, although this is something of an exaggeration; even they can be fooled by a good enough liar.

Nincada are also why political and corporate secrets today are universally discussed on the fourth floor of skyscrapers or higher. Yet this is a poor precaution at best. The office buildings where open and secret meetings alike are held are full of desks covered in messy papers, and when Nincada fold up their wings, it is all too easy to mistake them for works of origami. The indoors is not nearly as dangerous to these pokemon as the open air; their wings, designed for secret bases and underground caverns, work just as well for ascending staircases at night. The employers and trainers of Nincada are not often ninja today, at least not in the traditional sense, although the clans of Fuchsia City certainly maintain their share.

Yet this era has no shortage of secrets, nor a shortage of those who will pay vast sums to learn them. There are indeed ways to keep things hidden from Nincada, such as writing or e-mail, but all of them leave far wider trails for the human spies who train them to follow. The only reliable way to keep a secret is the same in every age: you must never share it with anyone.