Masara,

  a small town at the end of the Izu Peninsula, at the edge of the Kanto Region.

  I was five.

  Or maybe six.

  Not really sure.

  That’s when we moved here.

  My dad was placed in the local clinic. We moved into a house tucked by the rice fields, where the breeze always carried the scent of wet soil. I woke up every morning to the sounds of pidgeys flying off from a distance. The sun always rose through my bedroom window.

  I've always wondered what lies beyond the rice fields and the fishing boats.

  And found out I did.

  1995 I ventured the region. I was eleven back then, so were my friends. We had a dream: conquer the Indigo League. It was every kid's dream back then. We were so na?ve, so clueless about what lay ahead. People didn't expect much from us. Most kids came home within the week, their dreams packed away with their PokéBalls. But not us, no. We made it, we fucking did.

  1996 was the year things changed. The whole world was watching Kanto that year. The year a twelve year old won the Indigo League, defeating another twelve year old in the final. The previous record was fifteen, decades ago. And that was just the start.

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  1997 a thirteen year old won the Hoenn League.

  1998 a twelve year old won the Sinnoh League.

  Into the early 2000s, these kids — us — still held the crown. No one could touch us. The media dubbed us as the "Golden Generation."

  When I say ‘us’... I meant them.

  In the Indigo League itself there was something known as the "Masara Trio", three kids the same age who established a new reign on the region. All from the sleepy fishing town of Masara.

  The first was Red, Satoshi Tajiri, the youngest to ever do it, the greatest of all time. The one with the most titles, the one that changed the world.

  He was him.

  Then there was Green, Shigeru Okido. The grandson of the champion fourty-ish years ago, the grandson of the greatest scholar the country has ever had. But he always came second — second to Red. That all changed in 1999, when he finally achieved the childhood dream of his.

  Shame his grandfather wasn’t around to see it.

  And finally, me, Aoi Midoriba. People used to call me Blue. Doubt anyone remembers. I guess I disappeared from the scene.

  It wasn't my fault I fell behind.

  It wasn't my fault I found new hobbies.

  It wasn't my fault I left from battling.

  Not that anyone noticed.

  No one did.

  But that's the past.

  It's 2002, we're adults now.

  We're leaving Masara, for college.

  The rice fields won’t be there tomorrow. Not for me.