Chapter 1

The trainer looked up from her tea, startled from her quiet contemplation of its steaming depths by the sudden sounds of an argument. She glanced up, as did a dozen other of the restaurant's patrons. What she saw made her scowl in annoyance, but what she perceived took her breath away.

Two people had entered the establishment, obviously hoping to escape the heat of the mid-Summer's day, and had brought their argument in with them as a mid-sized pikachu looked on in dismay.

"I can sympathize," the woman said more to herself than to the pokemon, sizing up the two figures.

One was a boy who seemed to be enjoying the argument, which consisted mostly of name-calling and accusations of physical and mental inadequacy, far too much. He seemed to hold himself with a fool's confidence, a prideful fellow with nothing to be truly proud of.

The other was a girl, who seemed to have been pulled from their silent observer's very dreams. She was certainly dressed for the weather, which only served to extenuate her subtle beauty. The boy's harsh words seemed to be the antithesis of the truth. He called her ugly, yet the observer was filled with a sudden admiration as she saw the fire in the girl's sea-green eyes. The boy claimed his companion was scrawny, yet the woman could easily make out the subtle curves of her firmly muscled legs, the demure swell of her hips, and even the rise of her small breasts through the tank-top the girl wore.

"He's quite insane," the observer commented to her pokemon over a sip of her green tea. The little rattata nodded in agreement, sipping tea from a small cup made just for him. "But he IS just a child," the woman continued, "I suppose that it is to be expected."

The argument soon wrapped up with the traditional exclamation of "Well fine!" from both parties, and the two stormed off in different directions, the boy leaving the restaurant, while the girl found a table.

"Come on, Pikachu!" the boy grumbled, the automatic doors sliding open for him, "I know where we're not wanted!"

"That's a surprise," the woman chuckled under her breath, pulling out a small slip of paper and a pen, "But I suppose he has to make up for his lack of interpersonal skills." She quickly wrote something on the paper and handed it to her pokemon. "He doesn't even respect his pokemon enough to give it its own name. Here you go, Nezumi dear, I need you to do me a favor."

The rattata took the now rolled up piece of paper in his paws. "Ratta!" he exclaimed happily.

The woman smiled. "Now, listen carefully, dearest," instructed Nezumi's trainer, scratching him under the chin affectionately, "here's what I want you to do..."

"That absolute jerk!" grumbled Misty; practically throwing herself into a seat, hoping to alleviated some frustration. To her disappointment, however, the chair was comfortably padded, giving way as she sat down heavily, and not helping to alleviate her mood.

Instead she sat, quietly fuming, for several moments, elbows on the table, her hands holding her head against the pain as her delicate fingers rubbed her temples.

"Why?" she asked herself, the beginnings of tears forming in her soulful eyes, "Why do I even bother-? What-?!" She suddenly demanded, looking up as the sound of an almost polite squeak interrupted her anger. She expected to see a waiter, the sound reminded her of the noise their shoes made on the linoleum floor, but was surprised when she found herself clearly waiter free.

Misty glanced around for a moment until a small, almost apologetic voice caught her attention. "Rattata?" the small rodent pokemon inquired as it stared up at her with big moony eyes.

"Gah!" the girl exclaimed, practically leaping out of her seat in startled surprise.

The little pokemon drew back at her reaction, seeming to pout even with his severe over-bite. "Ra..." he muttered dejectedly, turning away from the girl and slowly ambling away on his hind legs.

"Oh! I'm sorry, little one," apologized Misty, containing herself once again, "You just startled me."

The pokemon stopped in his tracks and slowly glanced over his shoulder with a sad look in his eyes. "Tatta?" he inquired in the gibberish most pokemon spoke in.

"It's alright," assured Misty, leaning down to the little creature's level.

The rattata turned around fully, extending his snout forward to look Misty squarely in the eye. He narrowed his gaze and sniffed the air between them before exclaiming loudly holding out the small rolled out piece of paper he held in his paw.

Misty couldn't help but chuckle at the little pokemon's antics, and found her animosity slipping away with every smile that he brought to her lips. "Is, is that for me?" she inquired sweetly, trying to be nicer to the rattata.

The pokemon nodded with a wide grin.

"What's it say?" inquired Misty without thinking.

The rodent pokemon's grin became even broader as he dramatically unfurled the scroll and took a deep breath. "Ra, ta! Rattata, ta ra. Atta, rat ra!"

Misty couldn't help but laugh as the rattata went on and on, pretending to read allowed from the scroll as though her were the town crier. "Alright! Alright!" laughed Misty in spite of herself, holding her stomach and struggling to stay in her chair, "I'll read it! I'll read it!"

Misty took the little scroll and squinting against the necessity of the small but legible print, read the words she found to herself in a quiet whisper...

"You enter this lonely room,
And your light fills my hollow heart,
But your companion's cutting words,
Threaten to tear your soul apart...

I can see your eyes burning with fire,
As your whole being is filled with pain,
And by virtue of those harsh words,
It shall be a miracle if you manage to stay sane...

So let me hear of all your troubles,
Give on to me the tears that you would cry,
Allow me to banish this tormented sorrow,
And just let this tragedy die..."

"Wow," she said almost too quietly, looking up at the little Rattata as he leaned against the napkin holder, idly spinning the end of his tail with one paw, "Did you write this?"

The rattata stood proudly at attention and nodded. "Ratta!" he exclaimed happily, and gave a little bow.

"You're too much!" laughed Misty, scratching the rattata between the ears with her index finger as she rested her head in her free hand, one elbow on the table, "I was only teasing, Rattata."

The pokemon shrugged as a dark shadow fell across him. "His name is Nezumi, " came a soft, self-assured voice, making the rattata look straight up into the air with a happy exclamation.

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't know," Misty apologized, looking up at Nezumi's trainer with a polite smile.

The woman who stood before her seemed to be taken back for a moment, loosing her train of thought. "I- Yes, it's okay, miss," she assured, her glasses not quite hiding the emotion that filled the clear gray of her eyes.

"Please, call me Misty," she said, offering her hand to her new friend's trainer, "I guess I've already met Nezumi."

The woman's eyes widened for a moment, blushing as she took the girl's hand. "Oh, I'm sorry," replied Misty, "Was it something I said?"

"No, no," the woman assured her with a smile, "I was just... distracted."

"Ne! Ne! Ne!" laughed Nezumi, causing to Misty to glance wide-eyed at the pokemon in amazement.

"He can talk?" she inquired, not noticing that the woman hadn't relinquished her hand.

"Um, no, not really," she assured her, by way of explanation, "But I've been trying for the last year or so to teach him to say his name. Rather than just his species."

"Oh, I see," replied Misty, taking her hand back without noticing the flash of dismay in the trainer's eyes.

"Please forgive my manners," she continued after swallowing hard, "My name's Lilcamp, Miranda Lilcamp."

"Of the Lilcamp Trading Company?" inquired Misty, turning back to Miranda.

She nodded. "The same," Miranda explained with a shrug, "I'm currently working as part of the Courier Crew, though. It... Gets me out of the house a whole lot more, and let's me see the world."

Misty smiled, suddenly remembering the commercial she'd seen for them. "Ah! A cross between Fed Ex and the Road Warrior!" she laughed as the woman sat down across from her.

"That's the one," chuckled Miranda with a nod, seeming to enjoy the sound of Misty's laughter.

"So, what brings you here?" the girl inquired as Miranda summoned a waiter.

"Oh, I was just dropping off some medical supplies," replied Miranda with a shrug, "But, if you don't mind me asking..."

Misty found it difficult to meet Miranda's cautious gaze as she found the words. "The argument was nothing," she assured, "It's the same old crap every time. I don't know why I even bother with him."

"You seemed to be kinda related," pondered Miranda, "I've only seen siblings fight like that."

"No, we're not related," muttered Misty a little more bitterly than she'd intended, "But sometimes he's worse than my sisters."

"They don't appreciate you either?" the woman inquired with careful concern.

Misty shrugged, her gaze contemplating the table between them. "Not at all," she admitted, "They only want me around when they want something."

"That's rough," sympathized Miranda, "So, if you don't mind me asking... Who is he?"

"Ash?" inquired Misty, with a bit of a laugh, "Just some kid I'm stuck traveling with until he replaces my bike.

"Oh, I see," replied Miranda with a nod as the waiter brought them more tea, "But why endure his company if he's so inconsiderate of your feelings? A bike can't be worth your sanity."

"I guess it's better than traveling alone," Misty continued.

"It's not that bad," the woman responded a little forlornly.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" apologized Misty, "But you have Nezumi to keep you company, right?"

"Ne-ratta!" called Nezumi, adding in his own confirmation of the fact.

Miranda smiled down at her pokemon. "Yes, of course," she assured them both, "Nezumi's been my friend since we were both little. I found him stealing food from the pantry when I was a kid. My parents would have freaked if they'd known about him back then, so I raised him in secret, and I think we have a pretty good understanding."

The rattata nodded in agreement and Misty smiled. "He certainly seems intelligent," she commented, "Unlike some people I know..."

Miranda's smile faded as she carefully reached out with her hand, taking Misty's and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It's alright," she assured the girl, "I'm sure once he's older he'll see how pretty you are."

"You, you actually think I'm pretty?" inquired Misty, a look of complete bewilderment crossing her face.

The woman's expression became one of deep concern. "You don't agree?" she inquired, her patient voice seeming puzzled.

Misty shrugged. "It's not that," she said, turning away reminiscing, "It's just that not many people seem to notice, especially not my family. And the few people I've met who've mentioned it always leave, or don't really mean it, or are just plain not interested in me beyond physical attraction. It's kinda pathetic really."

"Well, well you are," stammered Miranda, looking pensively down at the table cloth.

Misty turned back. "Thanks," she replied, giving the woman's hand a squeeze, before relinquishing her own and reaching for the tea.

"Careful, it's hot," warned Miranda, pulling out three porcelain teacups, two normal sized and the third far too small for a human, but perfect for Nezumi.

"Oh wow!" Misty commented, noticing the intertwined dragonairs that encircled the full circumference of each cup, "These are really nice!"

"These two were my Father's," explained Miranda, "But the little one I had specially made. I suppose I'll have to let Nezumi use a full size one once he evolves."

"Were?" inquired Misty with concern as she poured them both tea before carefully giving some to the rattata.

Miranda nodded thoughtfully. "Yes," she explained, blowing over her green tea before taking a sip and continuing, "My Father had two dragonites when I was younger. They helped out with the business now and then, and when I was old enough I was given one of the eggs from one of the only clutches they successfully had. They're very slow to reproduce, but that's how I got my dratini. Her name's Umi."

"You have a dratini?!" exclaimed Misty loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear, but by now the other patrons were used to her sudden energetic outbursts.

Miranda nodded again, and sipped her tea. "If you'd care to accompany me later, I'll show you," she offered without looking up into Misty's suddenly wide eyes.

"Would you?!" exclaimed Misty, completely awestruck by the concept.

Miranda blushed, looking up at the girl over her thin-lensed glasses. "You must like dragons," she commented, her voice wavering a little.

Misty shrugged. "Well, if their water dragons, yes," she explained.

"I've never known any other kind... Unless you count charizards and gyaradoses, of course. Gyaradosi? Oh well, whatever," pondered Miranda thoughtfully, "So, what do you have?"

Misty cringed for a moment. "Oh, with me I just have my staryu, goldeen and my err- um, Psyduck," Misty stammered, feeling embarrassed.

"Hm. I see," Miranda responded thoughtfully, "There's definitely some potential there. Assuming you intend to challenge the Indigo League some day."

"Me?!" exclaimed Misty with a wry grin, "I think I'd only do it to annoy Ash!"

Miranda laughed. "People've challenged them over less," she assured.

"How about you?" inquired Misty.

Miranda shook her head and took a quick gulp of tea before refilling her cup. "Me? No way," she explained, "Those who wish to challenge them have to follow a strict code of conduct, and well..."

"Well?" asked Misty, suddenly feeling concerned.

"There are times when I've had to protect some one or something, and I haven't been able to abide by their rules," the woman explained only a little sadly, "I may have collected three badges in my time, but to me they're just trinkets. Little more than pretty souvenirs."

Miranda reached into her pocket and pulled out her three badges. Misty leaned forward to see them and cringed as she noticed the Cascade Badge. "You, you've been to Cerulean City?" she inquired rather pensively.

"Indeed," responded Miranda, letting the tea calm her nerves as she stole a quick glance at Misty in the mirror on the far wall, "I was delivering some water stones to one of our clients and I thought I'd stop in. Not much of a challenge, I'm afraid. Barely gave Nezumi much of a work out, and the three trainers there were so self absorbed it was pathetic!"

Misty gave a nervous laugh. "Um, Miranda," she explained, "They're my sister..."

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" the courier apologized, her already pale skin draining of colour, "I- I didn't mean to offend you."

"Oh, no!" laughed Misty, waving her hand dismissively, "I can't stand them either! It just bothers me that every one goes gah-gah over them, 'tis all."

"They weren't that great," pondered Miranda thinking back, "And I could hardly see the resemblance. Sorry."

Misty nodded. "Yeah, I'm used to that," she continued bitterly, "No one thinks I could be related to the beautiful Cerulean sisters-"

"They're hardly beautiful," commented Miranda, cutting the girl off.

"Oh, you're just saying that to make me feel better," replied Misty with a slight smile, Thanks, it's a nice gesture."

Miranda looked up, meeting Misty's eyes with a determined look. "No," she said, "I mean it. They're beauty is so... Artificial. It doesn't come from within. It's make-up and cosmetics that they use to enhance themselves. It's not the inner light of their soul shining through that makes them beautiful. Not like you."

"That is one way of looking at it," replied Misty, her smile broadening, her argument with Ash all but forgotten, "And it's very poetic too."

"I did write that note Nezumi gave you," Miranda said shyly.

"Oh, oh yeah!" laughed Misty, "I almost forgot. It's very nice, thank you."

Miranda shrugged. "It was spur of the moment," she explained with calm self- assuredness, "Give me a hot bath and good night's sleep and I could make that look like nothing."

"Well," suggested Misty, "I hear they have a hot spring here, "It's not very popular in the Summer because everyone just goes to the beach, but it's better than just taking an ordinary bath."

Miranda's eyes widened and she turned away blushing. "Yes," she answered, "I know. I've been here quite a few times, and the woman who owns it lets me bring in my pokemon when there's no one else around."

"Well, they do work a lot harder than we do," chuckled Misty, "they deserve a break."

"Ra! Tatta!" agreed Nezumi, making both women laugh.

"Hey, if you'd like, we could go right now," offered Misty, "I'm sure the lunch crowd will all be down at the beach wallowing so we'll probably have the place to ourselves."

Miranda nodded slowly, covering her embarrassment at the thought with her hand and trying to look contemplative. "I'll definitely take you up on that offer, " she replied, somehow keeping the quaver out of her voice as she pulled out some money and left it on the table.

"And no grabbing the bright and shinnies!" teased Misty, waving a finger at Nezumi who did his best to look innocent, and then hurt.

"He's not a pack-rat," assured Miranda with a laugh, standing up and running her hand through her sweat matted dark hair before grabbing her jacket and backpack.

"Oh! Don't forget you cups," reminded Misty, collecting the small porcelain objects that held more semimetal than monetary value, "Your Dad would be fit to be tied if you lost them!"

"My Father is dead," Miranda said simply, taking them from Misty's suddenly paralyzed hands without further comment.

"I-I'm sorry, Miranda," she choked out.

"It, it was a long time ago, Misty," the woman assured, tasting the name upon her lips for the first time, "Now Umi and the cups are all I have to remember him by."

"But, but what about the other eggs in the clutch?" inquired Misty with utmost care.

"Selece and Undine sacrificed them rather than allow them to be stolen, " explained Miranda, pausing and looking distant, "Then my father died trying to save the two dragonites. Later we found that the thieves had killed them both because they refused to obey any other trainer..."

Misty stood up, trying not to let the woman's height make her feel insecure as she walked over and glanced into her sad gray eyes. "Miranda, I'm sorry," she said quietly, her voice filled with compassion.

"It's okay, miss," assured Miranda, wiping away a tear and trying her best to smile, "It was a long time ago, and no one's seen the thieves since. I've made it part of my life's work to find them, and I've given their descriptions to the twenty-five or thirty Officer Jenny's I've met in my time as a Courier, but nothing's turned up."

"Twenty-five or thirty?!" commented Misty, taking a step back as her mind suddenly boggled.

"That's what I said last time I counted," offered Miranda, smiling weakly through her tears, "I've even been to places that have two or three."

Misty giggled in spite of herself. "I know a guy who'd kill for that!" she laughed.

"There's way too many men like that," Miranda agreed, encouraged by Misty's levity, but suddenly becoming half serious, "Funny, though, I wanted to cheer you up, but all I succeeded in doing was upsetting myself."

"No," assured Misty, taking her hand, "It was my fault. But you did succeed in cheering me up."

Miranda smiled. "It's alright," she said, closing her eyes and nodding contentedly, "I'm used to it. And besides, I feel like I've accomplished something."

"Oh?"