Episode One: Mira's POV
“Mira! Wake up! You’re going to be late!” My mom shouted, banging on my door at eight in the morning (which is extremely early for me).
Moaning, I rolled over and mumbled that I wasn’t getting up.
“Why not? Your father and I were excellent pokemon trainers and I’m sure you’ll be one too.”
“Dun wan’ be one.” Since there was no way that I was going back to sleep at this rate, I got out of bed and quickly changed into my usual outfit: black cargo pants, blue tank top, black sneakers and the green yin-yang necklace my father gave to me on my tenth birthday.
“Miranda Oak-” My mom didn’t get much further than that before my dad stepped in.
“Mira.” He said WAY too calmly. “Are you dressed?”
“...Yeah.” I responded with a sigh, knowing that his unusal calmness wasn't a good sign. “And yeah, you can come in.”
As I sat down on my bed my parents came in. Now – brace yourself – my father was the renowned Gary Oak and ran Oak Labs just like my great-grandfather did. That’s not the impressive part. Guess who my “mother” is? None other than the official Pokemon Master Ash Oak (formerly Ash Ketchum). Yes, both of my parents are guys. Yes, I’m adopted. Yes, you indeed read that right.
So anyways, my father came in with my mom in tow and sat down next to me.
“Mira, why don’t you want to be a trainer? This is the first we’ve heard of this.”
I hesitated, reluctant to tell them the truth. I was always proud of my parents and how excellent of trainers they were, but I was never like them. I hated thinking that I had to force pokemon to befriend me and fight. I would have much rather befriended them and preferred them to choose to fight with me or not. “I don’t want to force the pokemon to fight with me.”
“Then why don’t you be a ranger?” Mom piped up.
“Thought about it already. And I’d get restless. I’m always itching to battle.” I hung my head. “It sucks. I want to battle, but I don’t want to force anyone to.”
“How about this,” Mom began pacing like he always does when he’s thinking. “Why don’t you be a battling ranger?”
“Ash-”
“Mom-”
“I don’t think they exist, but nice try.” My dad and I have always been on the same wavelength despite the fact we aren’t related by blood.
“Hear me out you two!” Mom exploded (which is rare). “Mira wants to befriend pokemon and not capture them in pokeballs because she believes that’s forcing them to join her. Hence, the ranger part that would befriend pokemon. But she’s always been competitive so she’d want to battle. The solution? Be a ranger that battles with the pokemon she befriends!”
“I guess that makes sense...”
“Not really.” I cut in. “I can’t be either. Rangers don’t battle like trainers; trainers don’t befriend like rangers.”
Poof, and my hopes were crushed. All my life I’ve wanted to be a great pokemon master like my mom, but I was always with my dad who taught me that in a way, pokemon were like people, so I began being ultra-compassionate towards them.
Though now that I think about it... “Besides,” I stood up and began walking out the door. “I’m already 15; it’s too late to become a trainer.” Yep. It’s true. I was so busy studying with my parents who had the strangest notion that 10 years old was too young for their daughter to leave home to be able to get my first pokemon. Not that I cared. It gave me plenty of time to (sort of) figure out what I wanted to do with my “career”. A ranger that battles... in a way, that could work.
I kept pondering what to do as I walked out of the house and out back where all the pokemon were. I was always surprised as to how many of mom and dad’s pokemon were here. There was really only two that weren’t with the others: mom’s Pikachu and dad’s Eevee. Those two were always in the house and/or around mom and dad.
I didn’t really have a pokemon that I was close to like them but there was one I liked more than the rest. And that was a Squirtle I liked to call Antonio.
Antonio and I had a strange beginning. If you couldn’t tell, we didn’t start off our adventure or anything like that together. What actually happened was that around a year ago, I saved Antonio from drowning. You see, there’s this tiny creek by the lab that Antonio fell into. Nothing caught his paw or anything; he just couldn’t swim. When I saved him, the name Antonio came just came out as I was scolding him. No thinking about it beforehand or anything, just that while scolding a water pokemon that couldn’t swim, a random Spanish name came out. That’s pretty much how my life is; incredibly random.
So anyways, back to what I was saying. I went out into the fields so I could think when out of the blue, something tackle-hugged my face and slammed me to the ground that smelled of churros.
Antonio.
I jolted upright and shouted his name, somehow managing to pull him off so I could breathe. “What on earth are you doing?!”
“Squirtle...” His eyes held an unusually concerned look.
“Look, I’m fine. A little confused, but fine.” I set him down on the ground only to have him crawl onto my shoulder and onto my head. “Hey, you wouldn’t want to be shoved into a pokeball, would you?” Antonio furiously shook his head no. “That’s what I thought. Neither would I.” Flopping down onto the grass (careful to let him down on the ground), I stared up at the blue sky dotted with fluffy, white clouds. With the warm sun and cool breeze on my skin, it wasn’t long until I fell asleep.
