Into the Wild

The orphanage was as dull and gray as ever, but something had shifted for me. The place that I'd always considered a cage now seemed smaller—like it wasn't even worth holding me back anymore. After walking away from the scholarship exam without choosing a starter, Marta's disapproving looks and the whispers of the other kids were the least of my concerns. I had made my choice. Now it was time to act.

After refusing the starter Pokémon, they still gave me a small parting gift: a trainer kit. It was the bare essentials—a few Poké Balls, a basic map of Sinnoh, and a certificate that proved I was eligible to start my journey. It wasn't much, but I took it without saying a word. They probably expected me to come crawling back for a second chance, but that was never an option in my mind. I was going to do this my way.

I waited until late that night. The orphanage was silent, the others fast asleep. I slipped out of my cot, careful not to wake Sam, who was snoring softly in the bunk beside mine. I gathered the small supplies I'd been able to scrounge up—bread wrapped in an old rag, a canteen half-filled with water, and the blanket that was thin but better than nothing. The trainer kit, with the three Poké Balls and the crumpled map, was tucked carefully into my worn-out bag.

The one extra thing I needed was something that could help me deal with wild Pokémon, something that could give me an edge when I had nothing else. I'd heard the older kids talk about using makeshift traps and nets to deal with smaller wild Pokémon. They weren't elegant, but they worked. And the best place to get something like that was in the back of the orphanage—a dusty storage shed where old equipment was kept.

I moved quietly through the orphanage hallways and slipped outside, the cold air biting into my skin as I made my way to the storage shed. It was old, the door slightly warped, but I managed to wedge it open just enough to slip inside. It was dark, and the smell of mildew filled the air, but I knew what I was looking for.

After a few minutes of rummaging through old gardening tools and boxes of forgotten junk, I found it—a net. It was rough, clearly meant for catching loose items or maybe even for fishing, but it was sturdy enough, and it would do the job. I also found a length of rope, frayed but still usable, and I added it to my bag. With a bit of luck, I might be able to use it to set up a trap or even protect myself in a pinch.

With the net and rope in hand, I slipped back out of the shed, my heart pounding. No one had seen me. I moved quickly, making my way to the orphanage fence, and climbed over it as quietly as I could. I was out. The night swallowed me up as I made my way through the streets of Jubilife.

The streets were quiet, the usual bustle replaced by an eerie stillness. Only the occasional flicker of streetlights lit my path as I moved through the shadows. The city's edge felt like a gateway—behind me, the world I knew; in front of me, the unknown, filled with danger and potential in equal measure.

I headed north, toward the mountains. I had heard enough rumors from traders and travelers over the years to know that the mountains were filled with old paths, abandoned mining sites, and Pokémon that people rarely saw in the safety of Jubilife. There, I was convinced I could find something worth the risk—something better than a Kricketot or a Bidoof.

The foothills of the mountains were steep and rough. The ground was rocky, uneven, and the cold air cut through my thin clothing. I pushed forward, my breath coming out in short gasps. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the bushes, made me freeze, my senses on high alert. This wasn't the sanitized version of a Pokémon adventure that I'd read about in books. Here, the threat was real, and I knew that one wrong step could mean the end.

Hours into my climb, the reality of my situation started to sink in. My feet hurt, blisters forming inside my worn shoes, and my hands were scraped raw from grabbing onto sharp rocks to pull myself up steep paths. The bread I had was barely enough to keep my stomach from growling, and the chill of the mountain wind was sinking into my bones.

And then, the real danger showed itself.

It was late into the night, the sky a deep inky black with only the stars to light the path. I heard it first—a low growl, coming from somewhere to my left. I turned slowly, my heart thundering in my chest. There, emerging from the darkness, was a Zubat, its wings flapping silently as it hovered, its eyes glowing a faint red. At first, it didn't seem too threatening, but then more of them appeared—three, four, five Zubat, their shrill cries filling the air.

Panic surged through me. I had nothing to defend myself with—no Pokémon, no weapons, just my bare hands. But I had the net. I scrambled to pull it out, the rough ropes catching on my fingers as I frantically tried to spread it out in front of me.

The Zubat swooped closer, their cries piercing through the darkness. I threw the net forward, the coarse rope spreading in the air and catching two of them off guard. The net tangled around their wings, and they shrieked, dropping to the ground in a frenzy of writhing limbs. The others pulled back for a moment, giving me just enough time to grab a rock and throw it toward them, shouting as loudly as I could to scare them off.

They hesitated, their glowing eyes narrowing before they finally turned, flapping off into the darkness. I collapsed to my knees, gasping for breath. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest. I'd known this was going to be dangerous, but facing it—feeling the fear and the helplessness—made it real in a way nothing else could.

I stayed there for a moment, catching my breath, my fingers shaking as I pulled the net off the struggling Zubat and watched them fly away. My entire body was trembling, both from the cold and from the adrenaline still rushing through me.

After a few minutes, I forced myself to stand. I had come too far to turn back now. My legs ached, my hands were raw, and my body was exhausted, but I kept moving, each step taking me further up the mountain.

The first light of dawn started to break over the horizon as I reached a narrow plateau. The air was thin and cold, but the view was breathtaking. Below me, the world stretched out in shades of blue and gray, the forests and valleys bathed in early morning mist. It was beautiful, but also harsh, unforgiving. Just like this world.

I wasn't ready to give up yet. The climb had been brutal, the fear overwhelming, but the small victory over those Zubat had shown me one thing—I could do this. It wasn't going to be easy, but nothing worth having ever was.

I continued to climb, more careful now, every step deliberate. The higher I went, the colder it became, but I pushed on. Eventually, I found what I was looking for—a small cave entrance, half-hidden behind a cluster of rocks. It looked old, the stone around it crumbling, the entrance narrow and dark.

I took a deep breath, clutching my makeshift net and the few Poké Balls I had. If there was something inside, something worth all of this effort, I would find it. I wasn't going back to Jubilife empty-handed.

I stepped into the cave, the darkness swallowing me up as I moved further in, each step echoing in the narrow tunnel. I had no idea what I would find here, but I knew one thing for sure—whatever was waiting for me, I was ready for it. I had to be. Because this was my chance to find something that could change everything, something that would make all the risks worth taking.