Author's Note: This is my first major step into the Pokemon fandom in more than ten years. Wow, it's been a long time. Here's hoping I write better as a twenty-something than as a ten-year-old, yes? xD But, anyway, forgetting my past of horrible fanfics written when I didn't know what I was doing, (and under another name, if you can guess/remember who I was then I APPLAUD you. Seriously.), let's get down to business. Some things here are slightly more my interpretation of the poke-verse - and drat typing author's notes in doc manager since I can't type anything related to the word pokemon properly - so don't be surprised if something doesn't quite mesh up with the reality as it's presented in thegames and show. Nevertheless, I'm trying to be true to the knowledge I have of the universe, aside from giving genders to a few important canonly-genderless pokemon (because really, these two just. . . yeah, I see genders when I look at them, and i'm sure most of you do, as well.). On the whole, this story is. . . is. . . the product of a wild imagination, watching Pokemon movies before going to sleep, and odd IM conversations with a friend. It will make more sense as i goes on. There's a logical explanation for everything, even if it's not apparent at the time. Let's hope you enjoy it. :3

Disclaimer: Pokemon and its characters aren't mine. If they were. . . well, a certain legendary would havemore than just two movies!

Secret Guardian

-Prologue-

It was a fine day in Sunyshore City; which was to say it was like any other day. The residents in this place were, in fact, so used to nice weather that they only noticed anything when the occasional bit of bad weather – or another power outage due to Volkner's tinkering at his gym – occurred. The Sunyshore City Pokémon Center resembled its counterparts in all ways, with its hospital set-up for badly injured pokémon, to a waiting room for the trainers and owners of the injured or ill pokémon that were brought in by the score. This also included a little-known area at the back, slightly out of the way for an ordinary visitor, where pokémon who were abandoned, or were released and unable to return to the wild, were kept. There were pokémon here who were just tossed aside for being too weak or too common, those that had been too injured in a battle to continue on in their careers, those who had mental problems (though these were generally kept in a slightly cordoned-off section, and were handled very delicately), and those whose trainers just didn't want them any more.

On this afternoon, all of the pokémon in this area, with the exception of a few who were deemed "too dangerous", like the slightly-insane Gyarados whose former trainer had begged not to have it put down, were out in a sort of play-yard. They weren't doing anything, though. Normally, the Poochyena with three legs would be trying to tree the Glameow with a fainting problem, and the Swellow who was afraid of flying would be staring down the Caterpie who refused to evolve (causing second thoughts on behalf of the little caterpillar, I assure you), among many other chaotic and somewhat dangerous activities. But today they were all sitting, standing, hovering, or lying still, simply waiting and watching - because it was Thursday, and Havard would be coming today.

Up front, Nurse Joy was behind the greeting counter, tending to a Roserade who had come out the worst in a rather foolish battle against a Froslass, when the sliding doors opened and in walked a young man who seemed very out of place. He sported no pokéballs on his person; he carried no pack; he didn't have a single pokémon anywhere in his vicinity. He appeared to be about eleven or twelve, the average age for a young trainer, and yet, he wasn't one. His hair, which was both slightly messy and slightly long at the same time, was a peculiar lavender color that people tended to assume was the result of a bad attempt at bleaching violet hair to a less "girly" color. It wasn't, but he never bothered to correct them. His eyes were a deep amethyst, a piercing violet that seemed to look into a person or pokémon's very soul.

He was dressed in unassuming clothing, and resembled many of the psychic trainers that were often spotted around the Sinnoh region. He had an unusual gait - graceful, and yet as if he didn't quite know what to do with himself. The heavy, oversized work boots he wore hid the fact that he walked on the very edge of the balls of his feet, nearly on tiptoe. His shirt was an ordinary white T-shirt with pictures of Unown-writing spelling out the phrase "A friend to all, a friend to none." There was no source for the quote, but those few who knew him said it exemplified his personality. He wore a pair of dark shorts that were a little baggy, and yet stayed on his frame. In his hand he carried a small, clear box full of berries and small toys. Nurse Joy looked over at him as he entered, a smile that was somehow warmer than the ones she gave most trainers spreading across her face as she nodded politely to the young man before returning to carefully melting the icicles that were stuck to the whimpering Roserade's bouquet-arms.

"Hello, Havard. They're all waiting for you in the back," she said without looking up again. "There's a new one, as well – a Misdreavus."

The young man nodded, saying nothing at first as he walked further inside. Setting his box of berries and toys down, he paused for a minute and, to all present, including the Roserade's anxious trainer, appeared to simply stare at the iced-over plant pokémon. After a moment, however, he nodded to himself and knelt down, taking a Pecha berry out of its soft casing and offering it to the Roserade. The plant pokémon stared at him before taking the berry and eating it, still gaping at this person-who-was-not-a-trainer. A small but gentle smile crossed Havard's face, and he spoke.

"There, now. This won't take much longer," He said, and the plant pokémon visibly relaxed and stopped its whimpering, which in turned helped Nurse Joy to work more quickly. Then he turned to where its trainer waited anxiously, and his face darkened into a scowl, a glare, even, and despite his apparently young age it was a very intimidating expression. "And you. If you're going to battle, have more sense than to send a Roserade against a Froslass – it doesn't take a degree in biology to know that a grass-type is going to be overwhelmed by an ice-type! You were lucky this time; but when you run out of luck it won't be you who pays the price, now will it?" and his tone was scornful, deriding, and terribly angry.

The poor trainer, quaking in her brand-new, designer sandals, could only nod in terror – and continued nodding even after the young man had picked up his box and gone on to the back of the center. It took Nurse Joy a few moments to notice the young woman's plight; she had been occupied with the Roserade, after all. When she did, she sighed softly and finished de-icing the pokémon, before walking over to the trainer and carefully reaching out and jerking her chin to a standstill.

"It's all right now, Miss Stanson," she said calmly. "I am sorry about that."

The trainer, Lora Stanson, blinked a few times and ran her hand through her curly green hair before speaking. "W-who was that? Why was he so angry at me?"

Nurse Joy smiled at the trainer as she responded, "That was Havard Geheim; he's a psychic who is very deeply connected to pokémon . . . I'm afraid his people skills are a little lacking, but he means well. He just . . . doesn't approve of training, I'm afraid."

Behind the counter, in a language neither of the two conversing humans could understand, the Roserade and a Chansey nurse were having a similar discussion.

Roserade had been terrified when he'd first heard the surprisingly-deep voice in his head, never having had contact with psychic powers outside of attacks in battle. Being half-poison, he was naturally wary of anything to do with psychics and psychic types. But when the voice told him not to be afraid, that he would be okay, and – most strangely of all – inquired as to what type of berry he liked the most, he had relaxed. If this strange creature was offering him a berry, then he must have been safe. Now that he was de-iced and okay again, if still tired from the battle earlier today, he wanted to know who, exactly, that person had been. Ignoring the talk between the two humans – they were a good species, but woefully ignorant at times, he turned to the nearby Chansey for an explanation.

["Who . . . what was he? He's no human; I could tell that much, but . . . I've never seen anything like him before!"]

Chansey, who was used to being asked this question by curious and awed pokémon, smiled in a manner resembling her human partner as she replied,

["He's our guardian. He protects all pokémon who live in and pass through Sunyshore City. As long as you're here, he's your guardian too."]

Roserade shook his pink bouquet-hand a little. ["But – but what is he?"] He asked again, frustrated by the lack of a straightforward answer.

["Stay here long enough,"] Chansey said, keeping a careful eye on the interaction of the nearby humans, ["And maybe he'll tell you."] She would say nothing more on the subject, no matter how hard Roserade pressed.

Across the city, Sunyshore's primary Officer Jenny, the one most residents of the location recognized on sight (well, as much as any individual Jenny could be recognized), sat at her desk going through a list of reports. They weren't your usual reports in that they were dated from varying times, some close together, some farther apart, but all of them were of the same subject, and they had been increasing in number as time moved on. Officer Jenny couldn't understand it; all of these reports featured a wild pokémon that was unrecognizable from description alone. If it weren't for the sheer number of sightings, and the fact that some rather prominent citizens had seen the creature, she would have chalked it up to a folk tale. No-one had managed to take any pictures of the creature; if anyone had, they likely had lost their camera, along with any memory they had of encountering the strange pokémon – and there had been a few people who had wandered to the police station, confused but unharmed, to support that theory.

All evidence provided pointed to an astoundingly strong psychic pokémon, more than likely of legendary status, or at least close to it; one that could cover its tracks and hide its existence nearly perfectly from the sea of humanity. Now, the folk of the Sinnoh region were tied a little more strongly in their respect of all legendaries due to the long history and mythology of the region, so they didn't want to try and capture this pokémon – all reports pointed to it being curious and watchful, but never harmful, so there was no reason to remove it. They did, however, need to find out what it was up to. Already many pokémon specialists had been contacted and tried their hand at spotting or communicating with Sunyshore's mysterious resident over the past years it had been seen in the area. All of them turned up with curiously absent memories of what they had been told about the pokémon, and a distinct lack of interest in finding out anything more.

Officer Jenny was at her wits' end. There was pressure from the city's officials to find out what the pokémon was, pressure from the public who wanted to know if their visitor was hostile, friendly, or indifferent, if it was dangerous, etc, etc, etc. The poor woman didn't really know what to do any more. That was when a thought crossed her mind. A few weeks ago, a parade was held in the city streets, and a Rapidash panicked when someone ran a red light in front of the poor thing. It was going nearly supernova, mowing down people in its path, when it had suddenly stopped in mid-stride as a boy walked through the crowd of panicked parade-goers, his eyes glowing with a hint of psychic energy. He had walked straight up to the Rapidash, never saying a word, and somehow the pokémon calmed down instantly, even nuzzling at him as he fed it a cheri berry.

What had been that boy's name, again? Oh yes, Havard. Havard Geheim, the psychic who visited the unwanted pokémon at the Pokémon Center. Perhaps he would be of some assistance in figuring out the motives of Sunyshore's resident legendary pokémon. Now, to find his phone number. . . He was likely visiting the Pokémon Center about this time, but his home number was listed in the records, and from what she knew of him, his mother was a homemaker. . . ah, here it was. Officer Jenny smiled to herself as she located the number and dialed the telephone. It rang a few times before anyone picked it up. When it did, there was no noise, at first.

"Hello?" Officer Jenny said into the phone's receiver, wondering if Mrs. Geheim could hear her. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

There was a peculiar sound, something that sounded vaguely like a curious, high-pitched, "Mewwwwwww?" then there was another pause, and a clearly-human voice was heard answering.

"Hello? Sorry, sorry, I had the television on and couldn't hear you!" Chirped the overly-cheery voice of Mrs. Geheim. Officer Jenny had met the woman once, and often wondered how exactly this rather hyperactive, perky woman with pale pink hair and large blue eyes had given birth to such a serious and standoffish child as Havard was. In fact, sometimes it seemed very much as if Havard was the more mature one of the small family.

"Yes, Mrs. Geheim? This is Officer Jenny of the Sunyshore police department; I was wondering if we could get your son's help in a pokémon-related investigation . . ." She trailed off when she heard a burst of giggling from the other end of the phone. "Uh, Mrs. Geheim? This is a serious matter; there's no reason to be laughing. Please, we need your permission to ask for his assistance in contacting and studying the pokémon that's been spotted around Sunyshore City; it hasn't proven to be a danger yet but it is wild, so we – Mrs. Geheim, please, will you listen?" After a moment of having to deal with peals of laughter from the other line, the strange woman finally calmed down.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry about that, Officer Jenny, it's just – there's no danger here for – for Havard, I promise you. S-so you can feel free to ask him for help!" Mrs. Geheim chirped sincerely, hanging up the phone without a good-bye. Officer Jenny stared at the phone and blinked for a full two minutes before she shook her head at the sheer strangeness of that woman, and dialed the Pokémon Center, knowing that Havard was likely still there, completing his visiting rounds with the permanent and semi-permanent resident pokémon.

As she did this, somewhere in the cliffs high above Sunyshore City, in a hollowed-out cave complex that was set up with various technological advances including a telephone line and an internet connection, a small, pink pokémon de-transformed and laughed to herself at the newest developing situation that her "son" had gotten himself into. "Mewww, mewww, mewmewmewmewwww!" She giggled, flying around in circles. She really wasn't speaking any words, just laughing at the situation in general. Mew thought about contacting "Havard" – really, what kind of name was that? "High Guardian", indeed, he was so stuck on himself! – and warning him about what was about to happen. . . but then shook her head and giggled again, paws to her mouth, as she thought about the chaos that was sure to come to her far-too-serious "cousin", "brother", whatever you wanted to call him.

["Heehee, see, this is what you get for hanging around here too long, silly!"] She laughed to herself as she moved over to a sophisticated window-to-the-world that was set up in the center room of the surprisingly large complex. ["Oh, my, I really should drop by more often, this is going to be fun!"]

-TBC-