Chapter Text
The Young Researchers Program
It’s been common practise for years, decades even, for children to assist in the research of pokémon, working alongside renowned professors and lending their high levels of energy and fresh perspectives to aid in fieldwork. Whether it be sending them out with a starter pokémon to traverse the region and collect data on the local pokémon to fill out a pokédex, or having them visit the labs to clean and run errands in return for training and educational studies. In fact, Willow himself had been a young apprentice once, working under Professor Oak back in Kanto when he was just a boy, the experience had given him the opportunity to grow into the scientist he is today.
However, as he looks at the papers in front of him sat at his desk at nearly midnight he feels an odd sense of dread about his soon to be guests.
He knew when the Global Organisation Centre opened he was going to need some help; he’s young, well – for a professor of his field thirty could be considered young, he’s sure Oak only started running his own lab when he was in his fifties. The project he’s decided to take on is…ambitious, to say the least. It’s going to take years to get up and running at it’s full, and there’s no way he can manage both his research studies and the GO project alone. It had seemed an absolute necessity to sign up with the Young Researchers Program and recruit some local youths to help out.
They weren’t even that young, he’s sure he was perhaps ten…maybe eleven when he became a young researcher. The three he’s chosen are thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen. They seem like brilliant kids too, they’ll be fantastic assets to research he’s sure, and will certainly breathe some life into the newly constructed research centre.
He’s just….they’re kids. They still required parent signatures to be allowed to come here. He has their medical histories, their emergency contacts, he’s going to be responsible for these three – and there’s something incredibly intimidating about that. He has to teach them everything he knows about the sciences – decades of knowledge. He has to look out for their welfare and safety. How much support do kids that age need? Can they even be sent to do field research alone anymore? Back when he was a kid it was totally normal for kids as young as ten to be sent across the country alone, into dangerous territory like up mountains and through caves. Times are changing and he’s sure that sort of thing is much more regulated now – but he’s not up to date with current legislation.
Professor Willow is certainly feeling incredibly underprepared for this undertaking. He’s also feeling in desperate need of a fifth cup of coffee, but he should probably try to get some rest instead – in just a few hours now they’d be here, and a whole new challenge of his career would be starting.
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First Impressions
Jogging down the stairs, Willow smooths his greying hair back and rubs the tiredness from his eyes, practising his best smile in the reflection of the windows he passes as he speeds down a hallway and into the reception. The familiar face of the receptionist he’d hired a few weeks back, an older woman with a stern face and wirey grey hair tied back into such a tight bun that it seemed to stretch her wrinkles flat against her face, Janet he thinks her name was, looks over at him with her signature frown as he pushes through the glass double doors into the lobby.
His new arrival, a young girl with freckled dark skin and fierce golden eyes stands by the desk, watching him warily from the moment he enters. She wears a belt with three scruffy looking poké balls strapped to it over her white sundress, and has a modest suitcase covered in pins – no, badges, gym badges. She tilts her chin up in an almost challenging pose as he stops, hands on her hips as she looks him up and down almost like she’s sizing him up for a fight – which isn’t a comforting first impression.
“You must be Candela,” Willow greets fondly, suddenly overthinking his smile a little and wondering it it’s too forward, “My name is Professor Willow, it’s a pleasure to meet yo-“
“Your desk monkey here only has a caterpie, it’s not even a good caterpie, it’s stats suck and it only knows string shot,” the girl cuts in fiercely, brows furrowed as she stares him down as if telling him off, “how are you supposed to protect this place if your first port of call into the building can’t even battle off intruders? Seems like a shit security system to me.”
Willows mouth moves wordlessly for a moment as he tries to formulate a response to that, eyes darting to Janet; who’s eye is twitching slightly with barely restrained irritation – he has to admire the woman’s restraint with visitors at least, she’d nearly kicked him out of his own building the other day for accidently insinuating she was a little on the older side.
“Cutiepie doesn’t need to battle, no one is trying to break in here,” the woman says sternly, narrowing her eyes dangerously as Candela rolls her own. “And I don’t appreciate being called a desk monkey, young lady.”
“I could walk in here and steal all your research if I wanted to, and there’s nothing you could do about it. If you don’t see an issue with that then maybe you need some better glasses,” the young teenager huffs at Willow, not even dignifying the woman with a response. “Or maybe you just don’t value your research enough.”
Holding his hands up placatingly to Janet, slightly afraid of the obviously growing impatience of the older woman, Willow lets out a nervous laugh and reaches out to politely take the young girls suitcase, flinching away when she snatches it out of reach without breaking eye contact. She certainly was a…confident…young lady.
“I suppose I hadn’t given much thought to securing the facility, since it’s still in its early days. Thank you for the advice, I’ll certainly take it into consideration and look into acquiring a security pokemon as we grow our staff team,” he says slowly, trying to ignore the cold sweat on the back of his neck from the receptionist’s venomous glare boring into his skull, “For now, how about I show you around the facility and to your room?”
“I’ve seen the map, I’m sure I’ll find my way ‘round. Dorms are upstairs right? Third floor?” Candela says confidently, waving him off a little and starting past him as if she’d lived here all her life. Her forwardness really was astounding, he couldn’t help but wonder what he would have to do to have even a fraction of that effortless assertiveness himself. “Work doesn’t officially start until tomorrow, right? I’m going to go and settle in. You can call me if you need me for something.”
He watches speechlessly as the girl pushes through the double doors and starts lugging her heavy suitcase up the stairs one by one, not so much as looking back at him once before she disappears.
“What an entitled little brat,” Janet grunts sharply, painted lips forming a terrible scowl as she runs one of her wrinkly, well-manicured hands over the head of a particularly fat caterpie lying on her desk, half asleep. “Back in my day is was an honour to be chosen to work with a famous professor, you’d grovel for that kind of apprenticeship. I can’t even imagine speaking to my superiors that way when I was a youth.”
“She’s certainly an interesting one…” the professor laughs nervously, leaning on the desk for a moment and shaking his head, “I’m glad she’s not nervous, that kind of confidence is an amazing skill and will probably do her well in field work. Plus I suppose she makes a good point, we should probably employ the help of some watch pokémon once the facility opens.”
The woman wrinkles her nose and clicks her tongue at him in irritation, though drops the topic and taps a clipboard with her sharp nail. “Signed her in to the fire safety register, make sure she knows to sign out if she leaves the compound. How many more are you expecting?”
“Two,” he mutters, clearing his throat slightly, “Candela is the oldest one, very accomplished young trainer with incredible potential, she’s going to assist in the pokémon training side of things. We’re also expecting a young lad, track runner with a lot of energy, I thought he’d be a good fit for the hatchery, and there’s a young academic who I thought could help with lab work-“
Before he can finish rambling, the two of them turn heads at the same time as the front doors open to signify another arrival.
Another young teenager wanders in hesitantly, dragging two suitcases along while equipped with what looks like a heavy rucksack which they promptly remove once they meet the desk, putting it on the ground with a thud before glancing up at the professor with a very serious face that looks like it should belong to someone three times their age.
Willow is sure he’s had three-time-doctorate professors look at him with less intense eyes than this thirteen year old.
“I’m here for the position of assistant, I assume you are Professor Willow; renowned expert in field research and international pokémon studies worldwide?” The newcomer says in the most cold, formal voice he’s ever heard, offering out their hand to shake like a business man might. “I have read all of your recently published papers and am a big fan of your work.”
“Well- I- it’s-“ Willow fumbles awkwardly for a moment, pushing his glasses onto his head before awkwardly shaking their small hand. “I’m flattered. You must be…Blanche? It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And it is a great honour to meet you, I look forward to working together and shall do my best to be of great assistance to your work in any way I can.” The kid is a little shorter than the last, with silvery white hair that reaches their shoulders tied up in a neat ponytail. They have such formal clothes on it almost makes him wonder if they think they’re here for a job interview.
“If you’d like to sign in at reception here I’ll show you to your dorm and give you a brief tour around the facilities here,” he says gently, remembering to put back on his reassuring smile after being so thrown off by the last guest. “We won’t start working together officially until tomorrow, so you’ll have this afternoon to settle in and meet the other assistants you’ll be working with.”
Their eyes widen a little – it’s the most change he’s seen in their expression throughout the entire conversation, and they glance around the room for a moment. “…other…assistants?”
The hesitance in their voice makes him laugh gently, “This is a very large facility and a big project, so I’m taking on a few assistants at once to help out in different areas of research. You’ll be sharing a dorm with two other young researchers around your age. Is that okay?”
Unmoving, Blanche just stares at him for several moments, expression blank and eyes wide – he nearly starts to worry the child has just blanked out entirely, but they seem to suddenly turn and scribble their name on the fire safety sheet after a few moments, keeping their head down quietly. “Of course.”
“No need to fret, I admit I have a little social anxiety myself so I understand your concerns, but I am sure you’ll bond with your fellow researchers in no time,” he reassures with a smile, half wondering by the child’s sudden withdrawn attitude if he should have mentioned this ahead of time. He reaches down to take their backpack politely, nearly dislocating his arm underestimating how heavy it is but carefully hiding his wince, “I’ll help with your bags, follow me to your-“
“These aren’t all of my bags,” Blanche says calmly, furrowing their brows just slightly before tilting their head towards the door, “I have six more outside, I could only carry a few at a time.”
“…S….ix?” He says slowly, blinking a few times before forcing himself to remember that cheery smile. “…May I ask…why so many?”
He nearly regrets asking when the poor teen starts wringing their hands sheepishly, looking at him with those slightly wide eyes again like a deer in headlights. “….Is….is that too many? I…didn’t know what to bring…I wanted to make sure I had all my research and study materials- I-“
“No no, that’s great! So prepared! Just what I’d expect from a young scientist…” he laughs nervously, waving his hands slightly to try to dispel the newcomer's obvious panic, “Why don’t you grab what you can carry and I’ll send someone to bring up the rest?”
They nod at him quickly, grabbing both their suitcases and following as he holds the door open and leads them up a few flights of stairs.
Willow stops to catch his breath at the top of the steps, wondering how on earth this string bean of a young teenager was lugging this backpack around so effortlessly, and watches as they follow several steps behind, carefully lifting their cases to stop them scuffing the steps. He waits for them to join him at the top then politely gestures to the neat little living space before them.
It’s a lot nicer than the communal area of the dorms he had at university, spotless - being a newly build area, with a few nice couches and a tv, a little kitchenette area, and some large windows overlooking the compound. The child however doesn’t seem particularly impressed – then again, he’s finding it hard to figure out exactly what they’re feeling from their seemingly limited facial expressions.
“This is the dorm area, those three doors on each side are bedrooms, they each come with a little desk and a bathroom with a shower, but the kitchen is communal. You’re welcome to choose your own room, though one of the other assistants arrived a little before you so one may already be taken,” Willow says gently.
As if on cue, the door in the middle of the three is kicked open and the young, dark haired girl from earlier wanders out with a stack of pots and pans in her arms. It takes her a moment to notice the two and she squints a little, Willow gives her a polite wave over.
“Candela, this is Blanche, one of the other young researchers you’ll be living and working with over the course of your apprenticeship,” the man introduces as Candela dumps the kitchenware on a counter loudly and marches over, “Blanche, this is Candela.”
He watches as Candela looks the new assistant up and down before wrinkling her nose a little. “Why do you look like you have a stick up your ass?”
“Excuse me?!” Blanche responds, dropping their suitcases and looking almost comically appalled, brows furrowing into a scowl.
“I’m just saying. You give me big prissy princess vibes with the smart clothes and the old lady hair,” the girl announces as casually as if she was just telling the time, glancing at the professor with her hands on her hips and pushing her tongue against the side of her cheek thoughtfully, “I thought I was supposed to be the only assistant, how many other girls are gonna turn up for this role?”
He nearly winces as he watches Blanche turn red in the face, clearly fumbling for words at that, and he laughs nervously as he holds up his hands placatingly between the two and puts on his most gentle authoritative voice.
“I respect your confidence and healthy scientist desire to argue, but how about we tone things back a little bit and try to start things off on the right foot, hmm?” He says gently, instinctively putting a hand out when Blanche steps forward as if worried a fight might break out between the two, “Candela, Blanche here actually goes by they/them pronouns and I’d like you to respect that, please. Now, there’s going to be three assistants sharing these living quatres and working together, the two of you and another young man, so I expect you to do your very best to be welcoming.”
“I have to share with a BOY too, eww!” Candela huffs, pulling a disgusted face and stepping back a little, “what did these two even do to make it as assistants?!”
She sounds almost offended, and he’s about to try to placate the situation again when Blanche finally speaks up and pushes past him, tilting their chin up to match the girl’s challenging posture.
“I’ll have you know I was chosen for this position because of my academic achievements; I was a top achiever in the young scientists program and have won multiple awards for my research papers, I’m a debate champion, a mathlete, can speak six languages, and have the highest SAT scores in the county,” they announce challengingly, a whole new air of confidence about the kid all of a sudden as they stare Candela down with eyes as sharp as knives, “what exactly is it that you bring to this team?”
And for the first time, he watches Candela stumble a little and lose that smug grin on her face for just a moment as she steps back and folds her arms with an assertive scowl.
“I’m the best trainer this side of Mt Coronet, actually. First kid to ever get all eight gym badges and challenge the elite four before my fifteenth birthday,” she states proudly, “The prof chose ME because I’m kind of a living legend in these parts, and he knows field research is about more than lame standardised test scores, it’s about being able to hold your own and get shit done.”
“So you’re telling me you essentially have no scientific background, you’re just here to take on the manual labour the real scientists are too busy for,” Blanche returns, a hint of smugness to their usually fairly toneless voice. “I wonder if your faux confidence and cocky attitude are merely a mask to cover for your own shortcomings.”
“Really? That’s funny because I was just wondering if your prissy little know-it-all attitude was to hide the fact you’ll probably cry like a baby the first time you have to get your hands dirty doing any kind of REAL science outside of a lab,” Candela shoots back, glaring at the professor when he anxiously gets between the two of them and starts fumbling for words to try to alleviate the situation. “You probably don’t even know HOW to battle and you’re acting like I’m dumb. You won’t last a WEEK here, you have no idea how the real world works!”
“Actually for your information I DO know how to battle, any imbecile can battle, and I’m well versed in type match-ups and efficient movesets,” Blanche huffs. “And I don’t cry.”
“Well how about we battle right now then? Let’s see how long it takes before you start bawling in front of the prof because your baby pokémon can’t handle standing up to a REAL trainer,” Candela challenges, grabbing a pokéball from her belt and tossing it up and down a few times with a cocky grin.
“Bring it on,” Blanche says coldly, reaching into their pocket to pull out a pristine shiny pokéball and clicking to enlarge it.
“Enough, please, let’s not fight, especially in the new building,” Willow laughs nervously, struggling to assert himself over the increasingly frustrated teenagers. “I love that you two are forming a bit of…healthy competitive energy. But there will be time and space for some friendly battles later, lets put the pokéballs away for now and try to find some common ground here. Now, all three of you are very talented young people in different ways, and that’s why I chose you all. Science is all about different perspectives, and we’ll all be able to use our different skills and backgrounds to aid each other in our studies, so to get the very best we can out of this apprenticeship how about we start again and try to get along a little more.”
“I don’t want to share a dorm with her, I’d like to request to be moved to another living quarters. Preferably one where I am able to work alone,” Blanche says sharply as they turn to him, serious frown cemented on their face.
“No argument from me, I don’t want to share my space with this uptight little nerd either,” Candela grunts, crossing her arms and turning away a little.
Willow lets out an exasperated sigh. Maybe he should have just taken on one assistant like most professors after all.
“SQUEAKS STOP!”
The voice makes all three heads turn back towards the stairs, suddenly spotting a rather rotund little pichu practically flying up the stairs at speed, little sparks flying from it’s tiny cheeks. It darts right under Willows feet, nearly knocking him off balance, and Candela manages to grab his arm to stop him falling over.
Blanche yelps as the little yellow creature lunges in the air and uses their head as a springboard, nearly knocking them over too, landing on the kitchen counters and knocking Candelas pots and pans everywhere with a loud clatter, before it starts zooming around the room in hyperactive circles like a crazed little monster.
“SORRY-“ A lanky blond haired boy hurries up the stairs after it, a scruffy bag over one shoulder and what seems to be a guitar case over the other. With a panicked look on his face, his foot hits the top step and he faceplants the ground hard, throwing his bag which spills creased looking clothes everywhere. The pichu makes a squeaky noise almost reminiscent of laughter and dives into the pile of clothing, scrambling out with a pair of colourful psyduck print underpants on its head.
The two teens watch almost dazed by the sudden chaos while the professor jogs over to awkwardly hold out a hand to help the boy up, looking relieved when he seems unhurt. “You must be-“
“Spark! And this is Squeaks,” the boy cuts in excitedly, nearly scrambling to his feet and looking up at the professor as if he’s meeting a celebrity, “sorry we’re late, Squeaks got into some guys coffee on the train and we got into some trouble on the station when he shocked a security guard,” he explains breathlessly, speaking so fast it’s nearly hard to understand him.
“Is….was the security guard…okay?” Willow asks slowly, still a little taken off guard by the rather…exciting entrance. “Are you okay?”
Squeaking excitedly, the pichu tries to climb Candela, wriggling into her dress as she tries to shake the hyperactive pokemon off her person. Blanche puts a hand politely over their mouth to cover an amused hint of a smile, and Spark laughs nervously with a moderate look of horror on his face.
“Squeaks, pleASE,” he begs exhaustedly, looking somewhat relieved when the pokémon leaps out of Candelas collar, making her shreik, and lands on the ceiling fan. He turns back to the professor with a sheepish grin, “Everything’s fine! And I’m here now so it’s all good.”
“Can you not put that thing in a pokéball, geez-“ Candela snips as she brushes herself off, a little red in the face as she shoots Blanche a glare to wipe the amused look off their face. “That is the most untrained pokémon I have ever seen in my life.”
“Is it even a domesticated pokémon or did it just follow you home one day?” Blanche mutters, jolting slightly in surprise when Candela lets out a snort at the comment.
“Squeaks doesn’t do the whole pokéball thing, but he’s super well trained, honest! This is just…a really bad first impression,” Spark whines, holding his arms in the air to try to encourage the little pokémon to jump down from the moving fan, the creature blatantly ignoring him and seemingly having the time of it’s life whirling around in circles. “Squeeeaaakkks you’re blowing this for me, buddy.”
Well it’s…a pleasure to meet you, Spark. My name is Professor Willow, and this is Candela and Blanche, your co-researchers,” Willow murmurs, chuckling awkwardly as the pichu shakes the pair of undies off it’s head and they fall with a plap onto his shoe, shifting them off discretely, “Candela, Blanche, this is Spark, he’s the third and final young researcher that will be part of our little team. I hope you’ll make him feel welcome.”
“Sick! I thought I was gonna be stuck on my own but I get to share a dorm with a bunch of cute girls? Haha this is awesome!” Spark laughs cheerfully, and Willow feels himself inwardly cringe as Candela pulls a disgusted face and Blanche turns beet red looking as if they might start stamping their feet in protest any second.
He fully expects a fight to break out for a moment, but instead.
“Actually, Dorklord here is nonbinary, and if you so much as look at me the wrong way with your perv eyes I’ll break your nose, got it punk?” Candela says, almost sweetly, then turning to the prof with a slight grimace and jams her thumb towards Blanche then at Spark accusingly. “I get the stuck-up little snot if they have like grades and stuff, but what’s the deal with airhead over here?”
“Hey!” Both Blanche and Spark protest, one certainly looking far less amused than the other.
Willow’s cheek ticks as he forces himself to keep the smile on his face. God he needs more coffee.
“Spark here is actually a bit of a jack-of-all-trades,” he says gently, holding up his hands to try to placate the girl, “He’s a track runner, a young photographer, he’s been part of the national youth theatre, he plays many musical instruments, and he’s a dab hand at woodwork, textiles, and engineering too I hear.”
“What does any of that have to do with working as a lab assistant in the field of pokémon studies?” Blanche asks sharply, narrowing their eyes at Spark who backs off from them a little intimidated. “I’ve read all of your research and worked for years following academic pursuits to get here. Why am I here with a…a rowdy brute and a scatter-brained theatre kid?”
At that moment, Squeaks the pichu falls from the ceiling fan and lands directly on the professors head, knocking his glasses onto the floor, and he finally loses his patience and drops the smile he’s been forcing since these three kids arrived. He takes a slow, deep breath and moves to press his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose.
“Okay, enough with the attitudes; here’s the choice I’m giving you. Either the three of you find a way to get along or you go back home and I choose different assistants to aid me with this project. I’m sure plenty of young individuals would be over the moon to be offered the opportunity,” he says firmly, slowly lifting the round pichu off of his head like it’s a bag of flour and depositing it into Spark’s hands. “Each of your applications stood out to me, you’ve each taken a different area of interest and proven that you have the drive, passion and dedication to push yourselves to the limits and achieve great things. I have no doubt in my mind that each and every one of you has what it takes to become an incredible scientist someday, but science is more than just grades, or strength, or field work, a huge part is working in this field is having the ability to work as part of a team, so if you are unwilling to embrace that aspect of this then the door is over there.”
When he’s met with silence in response he feels a twinge of guilt at the outburst, sheepishness creeping back in as he clears his throat. The three young teens stare up at him with wide eyes like ducks on a shooting range, even the previously cocky Candela suddenly looks rather cowed. Perhaps he could have handled that with….a touch more tact.
After what feels like an awkwardly long silence he’s about to apologise, worried he’s terrified the poor kids into speechlessness, but he’s taken back when Candela suddenly tilts her chin up high again as if that confident arrogance had never been knocked, sharply holding out both her hands to each of the other young assistants.
“Truce then, I guess. I’m not ditching this gig, so we’re partners now, like it or not,” the girl declares stubbornly.
He can’t help but be impressed by her sudden change of attitude. At least she’s willing to play along when encouraged to.
Spark seems to hesitate for a moment, poor boy seeming a little bewildered by the whole situation, but he shifts his pichu onto his shoulder and reaches out to shake her hand eagerly after a moment, all concern on his features melting away back into that happy-go-lucky grin again. “Uh…cool! Well I’m glad to be here with you guys!”
“I am positive that your engineering skills and photography abilities will be a useful aid in both lab based and field research,” Blanche says seriously, ignoring Candela’s outstretched hand and instead holding theirs out to shake with Spark, earning them a bitter glare from the girl in return.
He crosses his arms to shake their hand at the same time with a dry laugh, “Uh- sorry I called you a girl and stuff, it’s just the long hair- I shouldn’t have assumed. Can we start fresh?”
Blanche’s tight expression twitches into something almost close to a smile as they give his hand one firm shake and then let go, “It’s fine, and yes.”
“Now that that’s settled then, how about the four of us go on a little tour of the facility and get to know one another a little better?” Willow says firmly, impressed when his voice doesn’t waiver or betray his lack of confidence, and even more impressed when all three kids nod at him. He's getting the hang of this authority thing.
Spark lets out a nervous chuckle as he gets down on his hands and knees to start gathering his clothes back into his bag, and Candela kneels down to help him, though she does pause to flap a pair of his colourful undies around with a snort. Blanche doesn’t make any attempts to help instead watching with a look of distaste.
Small steps, he thinks.
Maybe this won’t be so bad.
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