Con arrived home with Nidoran riding shotgun on his handlebars. The note from his mother still on the front door, he unlocked the doorknob and took it down as he went in. He hustled upstairs and immediately went for his room, making his closet his first stop. There, he tugged out a big plastic container and unlatched and removed the lid. Inside, there was a hiking backpack, the kind with a metal frame, a sleeping bag, free of any marks of use, a tent, still in it's store packaging, and lots of hiking and camping gear accumulated over the years that had rarely seen use. It was the pride of his life so far, this tub of camping gear. It wasn't the idea of camping that was so attractive, although he did enjoy that aspect, it was the idea of travelling with pokemon, training and battling being the whole of life on the road. He longed to be an official pokemon trainer with the card and everything and had since he was young enough to go to his brother's Pokemon League battles.
He, with his mother and father, had watched as his brother Lance had ascended the path of gym leaders and made it to the top of the mountain of the pokemon league, battling through masters of the utmost skill using years worth of work against the up and comer. But Lance hadn't ever given up, and he had made it through each battle, relying upon wits and resources to fill in for experience. Finallly, he had made it to the final fight with the Elite Four. Con had been four at the time, and Lance had taken the upper hand at the beginning of each battle and, with his Dragon-type pokemon, held it, using every advantage he could conjure, and thoroughly trumped the four greatest trainers in all of Kanto and Johto. After that, it had been decided by the four that after such a dynamic trainer had beaten each of them, they created a new position of Pokemon Champion specifically for Lance, so that any trainer could test themself against the best of the best in the pokemon world.
Ever since then, Con had fallen further and further into his elder brother's shadow. When he had been younger, too young to be jealous, strangers would recognize him because of his appearances with his brother, and would pester him about Lance until he either gave in or was rescued by Lance himself. Years of it wore him down, and when he realized he'd never even been to school without someone asking him about his brother, never about himself, he began to grow bitter. Bitterness turned to frustration, which bred hatred towards his brother. With each passing year, the burden of being acknowledged by no one, save as being the younger sibling of the Pokemon League Champion, grew more difficult to bear.
He had dreamt of growing strong enough to topple his brother from his position in the League for so long now that the dream bordered on obsession. Con packed his things while he daydreamed over his memories and wishes, and by the time he jerked out of the reverie, the packing of his tent, sleeping bag, multitool, firelighting kit, and all his other camping gear was finished. He tugged it on, noticing for the first time, Nidoran shifting worriedly at his feet. His pokemon never liked it when Con got that way about conquering Lance. Con smiled to reassured his pokemon, and felt the simple act of it lift his mood in truth. He picked up Nidoran, holding him in his arms and stroking his scaly, plated back.
"It's ok, Nido. I'm not angry anymore, I promise." At the soothing words, Nidoran seemed to relax and enjoyed the contact with his trainer. It had seemed so rare these days that Con had been in a mood to play or pet his pokemon. Nidoran had recieved so little attention in fact, he'd begun to wonder if he'd been forsaken. But the little guy's faith in his trainer had been restored and he promptly fell asleep at the stroking.
Con smiled as he carried the slumbering Nidoran downstairs and out the door. He started for the Pokemon Center in town, now ready to tell his mother the good news, and to pick up that Eevee Professor Elm had mentioned.
