kun'iku [1/1]
she is eighteen years old when her father abandons her. [janine, koga, silver]
pokemon; drama/family; pg; 3200 words
“To all those tuning in right now, I’m standing here with the new Johto League Champion: Gold from the small town of Newbark! Just a few hours earlier, in a miraculous upset victory, this spirited teenager managed to defeat the Elite Four, as well as the long-time reigning Champion Lance! Now, Gold…”
The reporter turns back to the grinning boy with the messy dark hair. His Feraligatr is leering over his shoulder menacingly, looking immensely pleased with itself.
“Gold, care to share with us your winning strategy? How did you manage to defeat the Elite Four with such ease?”
Discipline, she thinks.
The boy on the television screen laughs and rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “Oh, you know,” he says. “Teamwork, practice, and a bit of luck. If one or two of Lance’s hits had landed, we might not have made it through. Lady Luck was on my side today, I guess.”
No, she thinks. He’s wrong. Luck has nothing to do with it.
Discipline. Honor. Inner strength. Those are the three factors that constitute a victory. This boy… He knows nothing. His victory was a fluke.
But even as she thinks this, she knows it isn’t true.
--
--
Janine is seven years old when she realizes that the life she lives is not a normal one. She is walking through the park on her way home from the store, a heavy bag of supplies slung over each arm. Her Venonat scurries along beside her, balancing a box of oranges on its head.
It’s a beautiful day in Fuchsia - the sun is beaming down from a clear blue sky, and a slight breeze stirs the treetops. There are a few families picnicking in the park this afternoon, out enjoying the pleasantly warm weather. Janine watches, curious, as a young mother lifts her little girl into the air and spins her around, both of them all smiles and laughter. A little ways away, a father plays a game of catch with his son and their pet Growlithe. When the boy trips and falls, his father picks him up and dusts him off, then rummages in his pack for a bandage.
Get up, girl. And stop your crying this instant. A true warrior may be down, but they are never out. You must learn to spring back from defeat - make the enemy think they have won, and then use their own confidence against them…
“Excuse me, sweetie,” a voice says, interrupting her reminiscence. Janine turns to see that she is in the way of a woman pushing a stroller, and mumbles an apology as she steps aside. The woman’s husband smiles at her as he passes by. His young daughter is perched on his shoulders, messy pigtails bouncing, and she waves at Janine as they walk away.
Janine stares after them, feeling slightly forlorn, until something nudges her leg.
“Venonat!”
She glances down at the small, fluffy Pokémon and smiles, albeit a little sadly. “Yeah, we should head home,” she says. “You know how Father gets when we’re late.”
The girl and her Venonat set off down the path once more, jogging lightly to make up for lost time. They’ve got afternoon training to attend to, and their teacher is not one to overlook tardiness.
--
Janine is ten years old when she first questions the words that have been drilled relentlessly into her mind. She is practicing with her throwing stars in the garden when she hears a commotion coming from the back of the house. Glancing around to make sure that her father is not lurking in the shadows, she hauls herself up onto the fence for a better look.
Two trainers are having a Pokémon battle on the dirt path behind the house. One of the trainers, an older girl with a smug grin plastered on her face, has chosen a vicious-looking Nidoking. The other trainer, a young boy with the nervous jitters of a newbie, has sent out a small Sandshrew.
“Sandshrew, use… um…”
“Horn Attack, Nidoking,” the girl sighs, examining her nails. The large creature lets out a roar and bears down on the petrified Sandshrew, striking it with a devastating blow.
“No! Sandshrew!”
The boy runs forward and pulls his battered Pokémon into his arms, his face stricken. “What did you do to him?” he demands, and Janine can see tears welling up in his eyes.
“Relax kid, it’s only unconscious,” the older girl says impatiently. “Just take it to the Pokémon Center and it’ll be fine in no time.” She returns her Nidoking to its Pokeball and turns to walk away, calling over her shoulder: “Oh, and next time try challenging someone who’s in your own league!”
The boy gets to his feet, cradling his Sandshrew in his arms and sniffling pathetically. “I’m sorry, buddy,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know she would be so tough… I swear I didn’t know… I’m so, so sorry!”
He dashes off in the direction of the Pokémon Center, and Janine lowers herself down from the fence slowly. The boy had seemed so… devastated. She had never seen anyone brought to tears over a battle before; never seen anyone care so deeply about their Pokémon. She looks over at her Venonat and frowns slightly. The first time her Pokémon were injured in battle, she had not cried. She hadn’t felt anything at all.
“Janine!”
Koga is standing on the porch, staring at her with displeasure in his dark eyes. Slacking during training sessions was not permitted.
“I… I’m sorry, Father,” the girl murmurs. “Two trainers were having a Pokémon battle behind the house, and I got distracted…”
“Come here, girl,” he says sharply, and she obliges. “Tell me, Janine… What are the three attributes that assure victory?”
“Discipline, honor, and inner strength,” Janine recites mechanically, like a mantra.
“Correct. You will do well to not forget them. Because without discipline, honor, and inner strength - ”
Janine interrupts him. “But what about love, Father?”
“… Love?”
“It’s important for a trainer to love their Pokémon, isn’t it?”
Her father stares at her, looking strangely confused. He doesn’t understand the question. No one has ever tried to tell him that there’s more to battle than training and obedience. To him, the idea of love - of being part of a team instead of being the one in command - is almost a foreign concept.
In this moment, Janine wants nothing more than to give her father a hug.
And then she remembers.
Discipline.
--
Janine is fourteen years old when she realizes how much of a prisoner she truly is. One evening she decides to skip training, to go out and have fun like all the other girls her age. It’s just for one night, she thinks. Father will get over it eventually. He has to.
She takes her dark hair out of its usual high ponytail, instead brushing it out and letting it fall to her shoulders (only slightly frizzy - it’ll suffice). She tries on all of her three socially acceptable outfits before sighing and going back to the first one. She even puts on a bit of makeup, feeling giddy when she realizes how completely and totally average it makes her look.
Janine sneaks out through her bedroom window. It’s easy enough for someone with agility like hers - all she has to do is jump up on to the roof, then slide down the drain pipe on the other side of the house and vault over the high fence that encircles the grounds. Simple, really.
She isn’t exactly sure where to go, but ends up following some other girls her age to a posh café downtown, where teenagers gather in small groups to chat and sip at their expensive coffee drinks. She wanders around aimlessly for a few minutes, feeling lost, until someone taps her on the shoulder.
A cute boy with messy brown hair is grinning down at her. “Hey, I’m Eric,” he says, with that easy tone that marks him as one of the ‘popular kids’. “You look kinda lost. You new around here?”
Janine laughs nervously. “Uh… You could say that.”
“You should come meet my friends then,” he says, grabbing her hand and leading her over to a group of eight or so other kids. “I’m sure you’ll hit it off right away.”
The others, including a pinch-faced blonde girl that Janine recognizes from somewhere or another, all turn around as they approach.
“Hey guys, this is…” Eric glances at her questioningly.
“Oh, uh… Janine.” She smiles hesitantly, and the majority smile back at her. But the blonde girl raises a suspicious eyebrow.
“Wait. Aren’t you the gym leader’s daughter?” she asks, sipping at her frothy beverage obnoxiously.
Every single pair of eyes turn to look at Janine, and an icy fist closes around her heart. She had thought that no one would recognize her, but perhaps it had just been wishful thinking.
“You mean that crazy ninja girl?” the blonde’s friend asks, staring at Janine incredulously. Her eyes widen suddenly. “Oh my gosh, you’re right! I can’t believe it!”
The table erupts into giggles and whispered chatter. In her panic, Janine catches only a few words: “freak”, “dangerous”, “weird”. She can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, and she glances over at Eric for help, but he’s purposefully avoiding her gaze.
With no one to turn to as the underhanded taunts and jibes assault her ears, Janine turns and runs. Laughter follows.
When she returns home, her father is waiting for her. He does not look furious. He does not even look irritated. She can only describe the expression on his face as something akin to sadness.
“Now you see, Janine,” he says. “It is not worth it. They are not like us.”
She nods, and returns to her training.
--
Janine is seventeen years old when she first travels out of the Kanto region. Her Venomoth has just recently learned how to Fly, and her father tells her there is an item he needs from a shop in Olivine. Always the obedient errand-girl, she endures the long trip and arrives in the seaside town, more than a little windblown.
Olivine is truly a gorgeous place. The sand on the beaches is bleached bone white, and it glitters prettily in the midday sun. People and Pokémon splash in the translucent aquamarine water and sunbathe on colorful beach towels, their laughter carrying on the salty sea breeze. On a cliff at the edge of town, an old lighthouse stands like a stone sentinel, watching over the sailboats and schooners that dot the horizon.
Janine finds the required item with relative ease, but she isn’t ready to leave just yet. She is rarely blessed with any relaxation time away from the all-seeing gaze of her father, and she plans to make the most of it. First, though, she decides to stop by the Olivine Gym and say hello to Jasmine. The two had met only once before at a small get-together in Vermilion, but they had formed a fast friendship and had kept up a correspondence through letters.
She enters the gym to find Jasmine in the midst of a battle…
No, a defeat. Her Steelix is being pummeled by wave after wave of powerful fire attacks, and the Typhlosion it is up against does not show any sign of weariness. Steelix finally collapses to the ground, shaking the foundations of the gym, and Jasmine returns it to its Pokeball with a hint of sadness.
“Congratulations,” she says, with a forced smile, and Janine glances over at her opponent. He’s a teenage boy with brilliant red hair that sticks up a bit in the front and dark eyes that remind her of tinted glass. His clothes are black, in stark contrast to his pale skin, and his expression is both grim and triumphant.
“Here, take this Mineral Badge,” Jasmine says, and hands it to the boy. She pauses hesitantly and clears her throat. “You’re very powerful, but remember that there is more to being a trainer than power.”
Diligence, Janine thinks, almost like a reflex. Honor. Inner strength.
“So says the loser of this match,” the boy sneers, and snatches the badge from Jasmine’s hand. “Your advice is meaningless. Power is all I’ll ever need.”
He turns on his heel and stalks away haughtily. As he brushes past Janine on his way out, they lock eyes, and she sees something there that gives her pause. It is the look of a captive - someone restrained by invisible ties, someone kept in a cage that only they can see. It is the look of someone struggling to set himself free.
The boy shoulders his way past her brusquely, and she has to stop herself from calling out to him.
He’s just like me, she thinks. He’s just like me.
--
Janine is eighteen years old when her father abandons her. She is summoned to the gym one cool evening in autumn to find only Koga there, like a lone soldier left standing on a battlefield. He beckons her closer, and she kneels before him, bowing her head respectfully.
“You called for me, Father?”
He is silent for many a moment. She risks a glance at his face, and is astonished to see real conflict in his dark eyes. But it passes quickly, just like every emotion she has ever seen him display.
“Janine… You have been training for years and years to become my worthy successor,” he says. “Your Pokémon have become stronger. You have become stronger. Now, it is time for you to inherit the title of Fuchsia Gym Leader.”
“Father… What - ”
“I have been offered a position with the Johto Elite Four,” he says, as blunt and unforgiving as ever. “I plan to accept their offer. In my absence, you must take over as Leader of this gym.”
Janine says nothing. Her mind is too busy reeling, sending her thoughts into a state of jumbled confusion. Her father is… becoming one of the Elite? And she is to be a Gym Leader? She’s always known that this was her path in life - train hard, train harder, and eventually become the Leader of the Fuchsia Gym. But she never expected it so soon. She’s seen her father battle, yes, but the true meaning behind the role of Gym Leader still eludes her. How can she possibly follow in his footsteps?
She feels a calloused hand on her shoulder, and looks up into her father’s cold, piercing eyes.
“Make me proud, Janine,” he says, and presses the key to the gym into her hand.
And then he is gone, in a flash of black and blood red, and she is left alone in the empty gym. The key bites into her palm with its sharp, sharp teeth, and she feels the heavy burden of responsibility - of honor and tradition and the history of their great and noble family - settling on her shoulders.
For the first time in nearly thirteen years, Janine begins to cry.
--
--
“So Gold, is there anyone you’d like to thank? Who helped you on your way to becoming Johto League Champion?”
The dark-haired boy taps his chin thoughtfully. “Well, my Pokémon, for one. They’re the ones that deserve to be in the spotlight, not me.” The camera cuts to a view of Gold’s battle-worn but happy Pokémon, and applause can be heard in the background. “I definitely want to thank my mom for… everything, I guess. For putting up with me and always being there when I needed her and saving my money since I always spend too much. Umm… I’d like to thank Professor Elm and Professor Oak for helping me start my Pokémon journey, and… Oh hey, Silver! Kotone! You guys are here too??”
Gold runs off camera for a moment, and then is shown dragging two kids from the crowd.
“This is my good pal Silver!” Gold announces with a grin, slinging an arm around the other boy’s shoulder. “I couldn’t have made it all the way here without him… rooting me on, so to speak.” He then indicates the pig-tailed girl on his left, who seems a little too excited to be on television. “And this is Kotone! We’ve been friends since we were kids.”
“Heyyy, everybody back home! I told you I’d be on national TV someday!” Kotone exclaims, posing dramatically and making the victory sign.
“Since when have we been friends!?” Silver hisses, his face turning a brighter shade of red with every moment the camera stays trained on him. “Let me go, you idiot!”
Janine is frozen in shock. It’s him. The red-haired boy from the Olivine Gym. But something is different about him.
He’s free now. She can see it in his eyes, in the way that he’s trying hard not to smile as Gold and Kotone prattle on. He may not be the one with the Champion title, but he’s got friends by his side and the freedom to be his own person, and in the end that’s all anyone really needs.
Janine turns off the television with a click of finality. She’s happy for him, this boy Silver, but all of a sudden she’s alone again in her invisible prison and she can’t help but feel a little jealous. He’s free to be whomever he pleases and go wherever he pleases, far away from whatever had once held him back. She… is not.
“Janine.”
She turns, surprised, to find Koga leaning against the doorframe. His face is cloaked in shadow, but there is something in the way he said her name that strikes her as odd.
“Father… I wasn’t expecting you. I thought you would be at the celebration for the new Champion.”
“Hmm, yes. About that…” Koga lifts his eyes, and Janine can see him struggling. “Losing to that boy Gold has forced me to… reevaluate some things.”
“What do you mean, Father?”
He clears his throat unceremoniously. “Janine, I… I apologize.”
“… For what?” she asks, though she keeps an ever-growing list in her mind of things he has to apologize for.
“For everything,” he says, and she is shocked at the sincerity in his voice. “I… I fear that I do not deserve the title of ‘Father’. I realize now, many years too late, that I have never truly been a father to you. I have merely been a… teacher. An instructor. I wound up repeating the mistakes of my father before me, and I… I am so very sorry. I never once thought about your feelings and hopes and dreams. I was so set in my desire to pass down the traditions of our family that I began to think of you as a pupil first and a daughter second. Please forgive me, Janine.”
She isn’t sure what to say. For years she has dreamed of the day when he would open his eyes and see her standing there; when he would finally realize his mistakes and they would become father and daughter instead of master and student. She never really believed it would happen, but here he is seeking her forgiveness and she can’t think of a single word to say.
And so she does the only thing that makes sense.
For the first time in her life, Janine gives her father a hug.
pokemon; drama/family; pg; 3200 words
“To all those tuning in right now, I’m standing here with the new Johto League Champion: Gold from the small town of Newbark! Just a few hours earlier, in a miraculous upset victory, this spirited teenager managed to defeat the Elite Four, as well as the long-time reigning Champion Lance! Now, Gold…”
The reporter turns back to the grinning boy with the messy dark hair. His Feraligatr is leering over his shoulder menacingly, looking immensely pleased with itself.
“Gold, care to share with us your winning strategy? How did you manage to defeat the Elite Four with such ease?”
Discipline, she thinks.
The boy on the television screen laughs and rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “Oh, you know,” he says. “Teamwork, practice, and a bit of luck. If one or two of Lance’s hits had landed, we might not have made it through. Lady Luck was on my side today, I guess.”
No, she thinks. He’s wrong. Luck has nothing to do with it.
Discipline. Honor. Inner strength. Those are the three factors that constitute a victory. This boy… He knows nothing. His victory was a fluke.
But even as she thinks this, she knows it isn’t true.
--
--
Janine is seven years old when she realizes that the life she lives is not a normal one. She is walking through the park on her way home from the store, a heavy bag of supplies slung over each arm. Her Venonat scurries along beside her, balancing a box of oranges on its head.
It’s a beautiful day in Fuchsia - the sun is beaming down from a clear blue sky, and a slight breeze stirs the treetops. There are a few families picnicking in the park this afternoon, out enjoying the pleasantly warm weather. Janine watches, curious, as a young mother lifts her little girl into the air and spins her around, both of them all smiles and laughter. A little ways away, a father plays a game of catch with his son and their pet Growlithe. When the boy trips and falls, his father picks him up and dusts him off, then rummages in his pack for a bandage.
Get up, girl. And stop your crying this instant. A true warrior may be down, but they are never out. You must learn to spring back from defeat - make the enemy think they have won, and then use their own confidence against them…
“Excuse me, sweetie,” a voice says, interrupting her reminiscence. Janine turns to see that she is in the way of a woman pushing a stroller, and mumbles an apology as she steps aside. The woman’s husband smiles at her as he passes by. His young daughter is perched on his shoulders, messy pigtails bouncing, and she waves at Janine as they walk away.
Janine stares after them, feeling slightly forlorn, until something nudges her leg.
“Venonat!”
She glances down at the small, fluffy Pokémon and smiles, albeit a little sadly. “Yeah, we should head home,” she says. “You know how Father gets when we’re late.”
The girl and her Venonat set off down the path once more, jogging lightly to make up for lost time. They’ve got afternoon training to attend to, and their teacher is not one to overlook tardiness.
--
Janine is ten years old when she first questions the words that have been drilled relentlessly into her mind. She is practicing with her throwing stars in the garden when she hears a commotion coming from the back of the house. Glancing around to make sure that her father is not lurking in the shadows, she hauls herself up onto the fence for a better look.
Two trainers are having a Pokémon battle on the dirt path behind the house. One of the trainers, an older girl with a smug grin plastered on her face, has chosen a vicious-looking Nidoking. The other trainer, a young boy with the nervous jitters of a newbie, has sent out a small Sandshrew.
“Sandshrew, use… um…”
“Horn Attack, Nidoking,” the girl sighs, examining her nails. The large creature lets out a roar and bears down on the petrified Sandshrew, striking it with a devastating blow.
“No! Sandshrew!”
The boy runs forward and pulls his battered Pokémon into his arms, his face stricken. “What did you do to him?” he demands, and Janine can see tears welling up in his eyes.
“Relax kid, it’s only unconscious,” the older girl says impatiently. “Just take it to the Pokémon Center and it’ll be fine in no time.” She returns her Nidoking to its Pokeball and turns to walk away, calling over her shoulder: “Oh, and next time try challenging someone who’s in your own league!”
The boy gets to his feet, cradling his Sandshrew in his arms and sniffling pathetically. “I’m sorry, buddy,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know she would be so tough… I swear I didn’t know… I’m so, so sorry!”
He dashes off in the direction of the Pokémon Center, and Janine lowers herself down from the fence slowly. The boy had seemed so… devastated. She had never seen anyone brought to tears over a battle before; never seen anyone care so deeply about their Pokémon. She looks over at her Venonat and frowns slightly. The first time her Pokémon were injured in battle, she had not cried. She hadn’t felt anything at all.
“Janine!”
Koga is standing on the porch, staring at her with displeasure in his dark eyes. Slacking during training sessions was not permitted.
“I… I’m sorry, Father,” the girl murmurs. “Two trainers were having a Pokémon battle behind the house, and I got distracted…”
“Come here, girl,” he says sharply, and she obliges. “Tell me, Janine… What are the three attributes that assure victory?”
“Discipline, honor, and inner strength,” Janine recites mechanically, like a mantra.
“Correct. You will do well to not forget them. Because without discipline, honor, and inner strength - ”
Janine interrupts him. “But what about love, Father?”
“… Love?”
“It’s important for a trainer to love their Pokémon, isn’t it?”
Her father stares at her, looking strangely confused. He doesn’t understand the question. No one has ever tried to tell him that there’s more to battle than training and obedience. To him, the idea of love - of being part of a team instead of being the one in command - is almost a foreign concept.
In this moment, Janine wants nothing more than to give her father a hug.
And then she remembers.
Discipline.
--
Janine is fourteen years old when she realizes how much of a prisoner she truly is. One evening she decides to skip training, to go out and have fun like all the other girls her age. It’s just for one night, she thinks. Father will get over it eventually. He has to.
She takes her dark hair out of its usual high ponytail, instead brushing it out and letting it fall to her shoulders (only slightly frizzy - it’ll suffice). She tries on all of her three socially acceptable outfits before sighing and going back to the first one. She even puts on a bit of makeup, feeling giddy when she realizes how completely and totally average it makes her look.
Janine sneaks out through her bedroom window. It’s easy enough for someone with agility like hers - all she has to do is jump up on to the roof, then slide down the drain pipe on the other side of the house and vault over the high fence that encircles the grounds. Simple, really.
She isn’t exactly sure where to go, but ends up following some other girls her age to a posh café downtown, where teenagers gather in small groups to chat and sip at their expensive coffee drinks. She wanders around aimlessly for a few minutes, feeling lost, until someone taps her on the shoulder.
A cute boy with messy brown hair is grinning down at her. “Hey, I’m Eric,” he says, with that easy tone that marks him as one of the ‘popular kids’. “You look kinda lost. You new around here?”
Janine laughs nervously. “Uh… You could say that.”
“You should come meet my friends then,” he says, grabbing her hand and leading her over to a group of eight or so other kids. “I’m sure you’ll hit it off right away.”
The others, including a pinch-faced blonde girl that Janine recognizes from somewhere or another, all turn around as they approach.
“Hey guys, this is…” Eric glances at her questioningly.
“Oh, uh… Janine.” She smiles hesitantly, and the majority smile back at her. But the blonde girl raises a suspicious eyebrow.
“Wait. Aren’t you the gym leader’s daughter?” she asks, sipping at her frothy beverage obnoxiously.
Every single pair of eyes turn to look at Janine, and an icy fist closes around her heart. She had thought that no one would recognize her, but perhaps it had just been wishful thinking.
“You mean that crazy ninja girl?” the blonde’s friend asks, staring at Janine incredulously. Her eyes widen suddenly. “Oh my gosh, you’re right! I can’t believe it!”
The table erupts into giggles and whispered chatter. In her panic, Janine catches only a few words: “freak”, “dangerous”, “weird”. She can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, and she glances over at Eric for help, but he’s purposefully avoiding her gaze.
With no one to turn to as the underhanded taunts and jibes assault her ears, Janine turns and runs. Laughter follows.
When she returns home, her father is waiting for her. He does not look furious. He does not even look irritated. She can only describe the expression on his face as something akin to sadness.
“Now you see, Janine,” he says. “It is not worth it. They are not like us.”
She nods, and returns to her training.
--
Janine is seventeen years old when she first travels out of the Kanto region. Her Venomoth has just recently learned how to Fly, and her father tells her there is an item he needs from a shop in Olivine. Always the obedient errand-girl, she endures the long trip and arrives in the seaside town, more than a little windblown.
Olivine is truly a gorgeous place. The sand on the beaches is bleached bone white, and it glitters prettily in the midday sun. People and Pokémon splash in the translucent aquamarine water and sunbathe on colorful beach towels, their laughter carrying on the salty sea breeze. On a cliff at the edge of town, an old lighthouse stands like a stone sentinel, watching over the sailboats and schooners that dot the horizon.
Janine finds the required item with relative ease, but she isn’t ready to leave just yet. She is rarely blessed with any relaxation time away from the all-seeing gaze of her father, and she plans to make the most of it. First, though, she decides to stop by the Olivine Gym and say hello to Jasmine. The two had met only once before at a small get-together in Vermilion, but they had formed a fast friendship and had kept up a correspondence through letters.
She enters the gym to find Jasmine in the midst of a battle…
No, a defeat. Her Steelix is being pummeled by wave after wave of powerful fire attacks, and the Typhlosion it is up against does not show any sign of weariness. Steelix finally collapses to the ground, shaking the foundations of the gym, and Jasmine returns it to its Pokeball with a hint of sadness.
“Congratulations,” she says, with a forced smile, and Janine glances over at her opponent. He’s a teenage boy with brilliant red hair that sticks up a bit in the front and dark eyes that remind her of tinted glass. His clothes are black, in stark contrast to his pale skin, and his expression is both grim and triumphant.
“Here, take this Mineral Badge,” Jasmine says, and hands it to the boy. She pauses hesitantly and clears her throat. “You’re very powerful, but remember that there is more to being a trainer than power.”
Diligence, Janine thinks, almost like a reflex. Honor. Inner strength.
“So says the loser of this match,” the boy sneers, and snatches the badge from Jasmine’s hand. “Your advice is meaningless. Power is all I’ll ever need.”
He turns on his heel and stalks away haughtily. As he brushes past Janine on his way out, they lock eyes, and she sees something there that gives her pause. It is the look of a captive - someone restrained by invisible ties, someone kept in a cage that only they can see. It is the look of someone struggling to set himself free.
The boy shoulders his way past her brusquely, and she has to stop herself from calling out to him.
He’s just like me, she thinks. He’s just like me.
--
Janine is eighteen years old when her father abandons her. She is summoned to the gym one cool evening in autumn to find only Koga there, like a lone soldier left standing on a battlefield. He beckons her closer, and she kneels before him, bowing her head respectfully.
“You called for me, Father?”
He is silent for many a moment. She risks a glance at his face, and is astonished to see real conflict in his dark eyes. But it passes quickly, just like every emotion she has ever seen him display.
“Janine… You have been training for years and years to become my worthy successor,” he says. “Your Pokémon have become stronger. You have become stronger. Now, it is time for you to inherit the title of Fuchsia Gym Leader.”
“Father… What - ”
“I have been offered a position with the Johto Elite Four,” he says, as blunt and unforgiving as ever. “I plan to accept their offer. In my absence, you must take over as Leader of this gym.”
Janine says nothing. Her mind is too busy reeling, sending her thoughts into a state of jumbled confusion. Her father is… becoming one of the Elite? And she is to be a Gym Leader? She’s always known that this was her path in life - train hard, train harder, and eventually become the Leader of the Fuchsia Gym. But she never expected it so soon. She’s seen her father battle, yes, but the true meaning behind the role of Gym Leader still eludes her. How can she possibly follow in his footsteps?
She feels a calloused hand on her shoulder, and looks up into her father’s cold, piercing eyes.
“Make me proud, Janine,” he says, and presses the key to the gym into her hand.
And then he is gone, in a flash of black and blood red, and she is left alone in the empty gym. The key bites into her palm with its sharp, sharp teeth, and she feels the heavy burden of responsibility - of honor and tradition and the history of their great and noble family - settling on her shoulders.
For the first time in nearly thirteen years, Janine begins to cry.
--
--
“So Gold, is there anyone you’d like to thank? Who helped you on your way to becoming Johto League Champion?”
The dark-haired boy taps his chin thoughtfully. “Well, my Pokémon, for one. They’re the ones that deserve to be in the spotlight, not me.” The camera cuts to a view of Gold’s battle-worn but happy Pokémon, and applause can be heard in the background. “I definitely want to thank my mom for… everything, I guess. For putting up with me and always being there when I needed her and saving my money since I always spend too much. Umm… I’d like to thank Professor Elm and Professor Oak for helping me start my Pokémon journey, and… Oh hey, Silver! Kotone! You guys are here too??”
Gold runs off camera for a moment, and then is shown dragging two kids from the crowd.
“This is my good pal Silver!” Gold announces with a grin, slinging an arm around the other boy’s shoulder. “I couldn’t have made it all the way here without him… rooting me on, so to speak.” He then indicates the pig-tailed girl on his left, who seems a little too excited to be on television. “And this is Kotone! We’ve been friends since we were kids.”
“Heyyy, everybody back home! I told you I’d be on national TV someday!” Kotone exclaims, posing dramatically and making the victory sign.
“Since when have we been friends!?” Silver hisses, his face turning a brighter shade of red with every moment the camera stays trained on him. “Let me go, you idiot!”
Janine is frozen in shock. It’s him. The red-haired boy from the Olivine Gym. But something is different about him.
He’s free now. She can see it in his eyes, in the way that he’s trying hard not to smile as Gold and Kotone prattle on. He may not be the one with the Champion title, but he’s got friends by his side and the freedom to be his own person, and in the end that’s all anyone really needs.
Janine turns off the television with a click of finality. She’s happy for him, this boy Silver, but all of a sudden she’s alone again in her invisible prison and she can’t help but feel a little jealous. He’s free to be whomever he pleases and go wherever he pleases, far away from whatever had once held him back. She… is not.
“Janine.”
She turns, surprised, to find Koga leaning against the doorframe. His face is cloaked in shadow, but there is something in the way he said her name that strikes her as odd.
“Father… I wasn’t expecting you. I thought you would be at the celebration for the new Champion.”
“Hmm, yes. About that…” Koga lifts his eyes, and Janine can see him struggling. “Losing to that boy Gold has forced me to… reevaluate some things.”
“What do you mean, Father?”
He clears his throat unceremoniously. “Janine, I… I apologize.”
“… For what?” she asks, though she keeps an ever-growing list in her mind of things he has to apologize for.
“For everything,” he says, and she is shocked at the sincerity in his voice. “I… I fear that I do not deserve the title of ‘Father’. I realize now, many years too late, that I have never truly been a father to you. I have merely been a… teacher. An instructor. I wound up repeating the mistakes of my father before me, and I… I am so very sorry. I never once thought about your feelings and hopes and dreams. I was so set in my desire to pass down the traditions of our family that I began to think of you as a pupil first and a daughter second. Please forgive me, Janine.”
She isn’t sure what to say. For years she has dreamed of the day when he would open his eyes and see her standing there; when he would finally realize his mistakes and they would become father and daughter instead of master and student. She never really believed it would happen, but here he is seeking her forgiveness and she can’t think of a single word to say.
And so she does the only thing that makes sense.
For the first time in her life, Janine gives her father a hug.