Sammy's father was still young enough to be drafted when The War started.

Tensions across the half continent that Sammy called home had been rising for decades. What was once a whole country now lay divided in twain. Families were split along the divide; brother against brother. Entire families were torn asunder.

It was tradition against progress. One side held tight to the past and the old ways while the other demanded that the future was the only way forward. Petty arguments led to fistfights. Fistfights led to blood. And blood always leads to more blood. The lines were drawn and the people flocked to the side that believed would be the winner. Of course, there are no true winners in war, and this one would be no exception.

Sammy's father fell at Mount Silver. His body had been torn in half by an armor-clad Tyranitar.

He was only 30. Sammy was only 5.

The letter that came to notify the family broke Sammy's Mother's heart. She was 29, though you could hardly tell anymore. Her hair was now prematurely grayed, and her body hunched over itself as if it was trying to protect what little of its soul that remained. Her eyes now dim and saw nothing but the words on the sheet of yellow paper over and over again.

Dear Mirabelle Himada and family,

On behalf of the men and women of the Second Company, I would like to extend my deepest sympathy to you and your family on the tragic loss of your husband, Sergeant Takahiro. He gave his life in patriotic service to the nation he loved. You should be proud of his accomplishments, not only through his service but also through his character.

Our hearts, thoughts, and prayers are with you in these difficult times. Please let my command know if I can be of any help to you. Your husband’s service and sacrifice will never be forgotten.

Please find with this letter a small token of remembrance.

A member of the benefits squadron will be scheduling a time to go over bereavement benefits and funeral arrangements.

Deepest sympathies,

Captain Gram

Sammy's Maternal Grandfather Roger took them in when it became clear that Mirabelle was no longer capable of running her household. Their belongings had been largely packed away, and the house essentially sealed. Sammy would inherit the place when he came of age. The only things that were not put into long-term storage were necessities. Clothes, school supplies, and the shadowbox.

The shadowbox was placed in the family shrine along with the photo of Sammy’s Grandmother. His father’s face was surrounded by medals, rank and company patches, and a simple engraving that read “Sgt. Takahiro Himada - Hero of the 2nd Co.”

Sammy hated it.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

He hated the serious look on his father’s face in the picture.

He hated his mother for leaving him in all but body.

He hated Captain Gram.

He hated his father’s killers.

But most of all?

Sammy hated The War.

Sammy’s new home in Pallet Village was far enough away from where the fighting took place that things still seemed peaceful. The people of the village carried on with their lives and only spoke of the bloodshed behind closed doors. There was nothing left to discuss in public. Nearly every family had lost someone. But the war machine needed supplies. The wheat needed to be brought in and the fish needed to be caught and dried.

Life marched on.

It was a hotter day than usual when the radios crackled out their message. The War was over. An armistice had been reached and the two sides had agreed to fully split into separate nations. The Argentum Mountain Range and Mount Silver became a demilitarized zone. Fighting had been forced to cease as the wild Pokemon of the area had enough of the carpet bombing and bullet hail. Flames from the heavens, blizzards, and horrific storms of torrential winds and lightning had rained down upon the craggy slopes. Enormous birds had vented their displeasure upon the hapless troops. Entire companies were buried under the rocks. In the face of primordial anger the humans were forced to capitulate.

Two years passed.

Tensions were still high between the new Kanto and Johto, but battles were now fought with trade and tech instead of bullets and armor. The arms race between the two countries had spurred on an unprecedented growth in technology. Phone lines could now pass data along with sound. Food could be heated with microwave radiation. Factories that once churned out munitions now made goods of convenience.

But a new problem surfaced.

Both sides had engaged with Pokemon born and bred for battle. Now that the physical hostilities had stopped there was no longer a need for them. The most vicious were culled as they could no longer differentiate between war and peace. Most, however, were released into the wild.

The effects of such a decision were felt immediately. What were once safe roads became rife with dangers as power dynamics across the regions shifted. Butterfree who once nested near Celadon were driven out as battle-hardened Fearow moved in. The Blastoise that were once part of the Naval and Field Artillery bombarded prime lakes and rivers, displacing the Poliwhirls. Each and every Pokemon in Kanto was affected, and the humans suffered for it.

In the aftermath, the people clamored for a solution. Too many towns were destroyed as Pokemon rampaged. Children playing in the woods disappeared. There weren’t enough Veterans and Rangers to patrol each route. The people demanded safety and the current leadership wasn’t doing enough. It was time for a change. The nobility and politicians were outed and more practical folk took their place. Additional accords were struck between the two suffering countries and the Pokemon League was born.

The Trainer system was their first order of business. Folks who showed aptitude were put through a gauntlet. Veterans would teach the new generation the strengths and weaknesses of each broad category of Pokemon. Those who passed were given a badge signifying their mastery of each type and were tasked to travel across the land and deal with problems.

It wasn’t long until competitions took place between these new Pokemon Trainers. Corporations took note and began to hold tournaments that were televised to the masses. The Pokemon League also realized the potential of such events and began to sanction the most popular. Watching the tournaments became a regular spectacle and common pastime.

As popularity grew, so did the organization of the Trainer system evolve. Veterans opened facilities called Gyms and opened their doors to any that deigned to challenge them. The educational system was overhauled, and more focus was placed on Pokemon typings and battle. Now the basics of Pokemon training would be covered in the schools, and the Gyms would test the knowledge.

Two more years passed and the most accomplished Trainers had grown in power. Some spoke as newly elected Mayors, others as local heroes, and even some as representatives of more hidden organizations. Such influence had been given to these Trainers that the League representatives had to bow to their demands.

Leadership changed yet again.

Now The Champion stood at the helm of the Pokemon League. Their advisors became known as Elites and acted as members of The Champion’s cabinet. The ousted board members now acted as a Congress and did what they could to ensure that whomever became Champion had at least some restraint to their actions.

The current Champion had swept his competition aside in a dramatic show of force. His team of Pokemon had been former Aces in the military and it showed. In every battle they acted as if it was a matter of life or death. The people cheered for these Aces and screamed their names when they took the field. They rallied behind The Champion and gave him their support.

Sammy hated him.