“Of fire and water,” he started, “fire is much cleaner. They both destroy, they both wreak havoc, but water is filthy. Water brings mold, breeds bacteria, and transports disease. Water so quickly becomes impure, and it takes great effort to clean it. Fire, on the other hand, kills mold, bacteria, and disease. It destroys every flammable thing in its path until nothing is left but, well, Ash.”

“Oh my gosh,” she said, half-amused and half-annoyed.

The couple had just finished unpacking their final box from moving into their new house. They were married five months ago, moved into the new house a week later, and finally unpacked their last moving box 159 days after they said “I do.” He was old-fashioned when it came to romance, and she liked that about him. She was old-fashioned when it came to technology, and he liked that about her. Old-fashioned in his case meant the couple did not live together or sleep together until marriage. It also meant flowers and chocolates and love poems. Old-fashioned in her case meant she didn’t use a cell phone or the internet, loved handwritten letters, and sewed her own clothes. She also collected CDs and records.

The last three boxes sat in a closet, unattended, unnoticed, and unopened for weeks. Two were only opened when one of them needed something specific that was inside. Once opened, they figured they might as well unpack the whole box. And so one box stayed alone, waiting. One day he was looking in the closet for a particular watch. In his rummaging, he knocked down a bottle of perfume, which fell right on top of the lonely box. A clumsy twist of fate led him to open the final package. In it he found items from his wife’s childhood. He saw a handmade yarn doll, a locket, a wooden contraption he didn’t recognize, and her diary, which he set aside without opening. More items lay in the box, but the one that caught his eye was a translucent Game Boy Color. He picked it up. He turned the handheld console around and saw a blue cartridge, Pokémon: Blue Version. A smile emerged on his face as his own childhood memories flooded his mind. He remembered the road trips with his father, sitting in the passenger seat, trying his best to angle his own Game Boy to see the dark screen. He would look up whenever his father pointed out some interesting scenery. Then it was back to the game, immersing himself in the tiny, 8-bit world of only 2.72 square inches.

He immediately rushed into the kitchen, where she was fixing herself a cup of tea. He announced that they must engage in a Pokémon battle. She smiled, sipped her tea and accepted the challenge. He ran to their bedroom and rummaged through his nightstand drawer of “old junk,” and found his own Game Boy color, a lime green device with a red cartridge, his Christmas present at the impressional age of six. They agreed to overwrite their childhood save files, start from scratch, and train their Pokémon for their ultimate battle. After a quick run to 7-11 for AA batteries, they turned on their respective consoles. They started their new Pokémon adventures, and he performed his improvised fire, water, and Ash soliloquy.

As people do, they put a movie on while they played. It was a day for sitting around and playing Pokémon. He sat on their couch, and she repeatedly changed her sitting, leaning, lying, and standing positions. She lay back on the couch with her legs across his lap. She sat up and leaned against his shoulder. For a gym battle she stood up excitedly and spoke aloud to the fictional gym leader.

They ordered pizza. After it arrived and they started eating, he remarked, “It’s always funny to me when fantasy worlds like this make references to real-world historical facts.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a man in the game that speaks about the Apollo 11 mission to the moon,” he explained.

“What! Where! When!”

“Who?” he laughed. “It’s just a kind old fellow in Pewter City.”

“Really?”

“Yes. If you continue north, you get to the space museum, where you can get the Aerodactyl fossil, and there’s a man who reminisces about watching the moon landing on TV.”

“That’s hilarious. I guess I never made my way there, or I don’t remember that man.”

“Makes me wonder about what kind of Pokémon Neil Armstrong would have. What kind of trainer would he be? What was Neil Armstrong’s favorite Pokémon?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” she said. “There aren’t really any space or astronaut Pokémon, are there?”

“Maybe his favorite would be Machoke. Get it? Cause his arm’s… strong. Armstrong?”

She looked at him with a loving, cringing smile of a lover who has heard countless puns over the years.

“Of course Buzz Aldrin,” he continued, “his favorite would almost certainly be Electabuzz, because of the obvious ‘buzz’ connection. But Michael Collins, that’s a difficult one to parse out. I, and most others, know much less about him. Perhaps he would empathize with Bulbasaur.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, they both have that ‘odd man out’ place in their worlds. They’re both part of a kind of trio, and they’re both the overlooked and underappreciated member of said trio. Armstrong and Aldrin are the Charmander and Squirtle, respectively.”

“Why can’t Squirtle be the Armstrong?” she asked.

“However,” he continued without answering, “that would be interpreting things in the Pokémon world through the lens of our world, in which Charmander and Squirtle are indeed much more popular than Bulbasaur. It’s not entirely clear that, within the Kanto slash Apollo 11 universe, Bulbasaur is any less popular or famous than Charmander and Squirtle. In fact, it’s probably the case that only Professor Oak, Blue, and Red even consider those three Pokémon to be any kind of trio at all. They’re just three out of a hundred and fifty Pokémon.”

“Or a hundred fifty-one.”

“Right, yes. You know, if you use ‘strength’ on the truck by the S.S. Anne, you can catch Mew.”

“Ha ha,” she said, “I’m not falling for that. I remember one boy from my class told me he tried over and over again, for hours at a time, a few days in a row, and Mew never showed up.”

“If he tried just one more time, it probably would’ve worked.”

“Exactly. It’s interesting, though, that we all heard that same rumor. We grew up on opposite corners of the country, and we both heard the same thing.”

“Ah yes,” he said, “gone are the days of the old word-of-mouth urban legend. Another casualty of the internet age, perhaps.”

“Yeah! Like how we all heard the same rumor that Steve from Blue’s Clues was fired because he was a heroin addict?”

“Cocaine, as I heard it. And who could forget that fascinating fun fact about Marilyn Manson?”

“Perhaps the less said about that, the better.”

He agreed.

And so, over the weeks and months, the couple made their respective ways through the dichromatic, yet colorfully named, region of Kanto. They defeated hikers, bikers, and swimmers, jugglers and burglars, bird keepers and bug catchers, gentlemen and youngsters, sailors, fishermen, and… cueballs. They found fossils, potions, and a device that allowed them to see ghosts. They encountered a wide variety of monsters, including magnets, rocks with arms, and exploding spheres, as well as rats, bats, and cats, and of course, a kangaroo named after a 13th century Mongolian leader.

They fought their first fight as a married couple. It was a valiant effort from both parties. In the end, she claimed a close victory in the hard-fought contest. It started as a civil discussion about where the couple would spend Thanksgiving. He preferred his parents’ house, and she preferred her parents’ house. They went back and forth. She detected a slight change in tone when he mentioned her mother. When pressed, he said, “Well, she isn’t exactly the spokesperson for the twelve step program, is she?”

A deafening silence followed. Then, over the course of just a few minutes, they both unleashed cruel, personal attacks on each other’s family members, some of which they fabricated or exaggerated just to hurt the other person. After the quick, decisive battle of words, another piercing silence followed. He excused himself to take a walk, and she made herself a cup of herbal tea. When the walk and the second cup of tea were complete, they began to reconcile. He apologized first, and second, and third, and she apologized fourth, then he apologized fifth. They both had said things they didn’t really mean, and let their emotions get the best of them. They embraced, and now they were free again to focus on the true fight, that of their eventual Pokémon battle.

They caught, trained, and evolved their personal choices of six Pokémon.

“You know what’s annoying about this game?” he said one day as they were both playing.

“What’s that?”

“They make a game with a hundred and fifty monsters, then make a catchphrase and song about ‘catching ’em all,’ but you can’t even catch them all without a link cable. I’ve always found that to be obnoxious. They sell a game, and the first guy you interact with, a professor no less, sends you on a quest to collect all Pokémon, yet that can only be accomplished by purchasing an accessory called a link cable, getting another Game Boy, a slightly different version of the game, and then completing a bunch of seemingly random trades.”

“Is this some unresolved trauma of growing up an only child? Having no one to trade Pokémon with… you poor thing. It’s okay, I’ll trade Pokémon with you, sweetie.”

She smiled at him. She loved to tease him in this way and watch him try to remain calm. He smiled back, in love.

“Yes,” he said. “And another thing, why would trading a Pokémon make it evolve? I understand training them to make them evolve. I understand using a special stone, like a thunder stone, to make them evolve, but sending them to a random trainer through a tube? Why would that make them evolve? You catch an Abra, which can be tough to do because they just teleport away. Then you train it into a Kadabra, which is a grind because Abra can’t attack. After all that, it only decides to evolve into Alakazam when I send it to a trainer who did none of the work? What is Kadabra thinking? Like, ‘oh boy! I’m in a strange tube, time to evolve?”

“The world is a cruel and mysterious place,” she said wistfully.

“Did Sabrina have to trade to get her Alakazam? Who’d she trade with? Mr. Psychic? He honestly should be the gym leader, he actually gives you a useful TM, unlike Sabrina.”

“Hold on now, that’s just too far. You can talk about trading, but don’t come after an icon like the Queen of Kanto.”

“An icon, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

She was the first to beat the game. Professor Oak congratulated her and inducted her Pokémon into the hall of fame. She rushed into the kitchen to gloat that she was the first of them to defeat the Elite Four.

“But did you not name your rival after me?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And your rival beat the Elite Four before you, did he not?”

She stood there in silence.

The game quickly grew monotonous when all that was left to do was leveling up. They had traveled through different cities, spoke with different people, and encountered different Pokémon. Now there was nothing left to do but battle the Elite Four again and again and again.

She had never shown such a competitive side of herself before. She enjoyed updating him on her Pokémon’s level progress. She teased him for being so far behind. She confidently spoke of their ultimate battle, as if it was a foregone conclusion that she would win. He loved to see her childlike joy as she played the game.

On a Tuesday in May, right after his sixth Pokémon reached level 100, he walked into the living room, Game Boy in hand. She was sitting on the couch, knitting a scarf.

“Ready for a Pokémon battle?” he said, raising the Game Boy and link cable in front of him.

Her eyes lit up. “Yes!” she said as she jumped from the couch. She ran to their bedroom, retrieved her own Game Boy, then proceeded to the kitchen. She rummaged through their junk drawer, looking through its random items.

“What are you looking for?”

“Batteries! Fresh batteries! We wouldn’t want the batteries to die in the middle of battle, would we?”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

“Yes! I was about to beat my older brother in a Pokémon battle for the first time when the batteries suddenly went out.”

“Is this your unresolved trauma?”

“Yes, it is!”

She found four batteries and gave him two of them. They sat, face to face, legs crossed, on the rug in the middle of the living room. It looked as if they were about to engage in some guided meditation, except for the fact that they both had silly, excited expressions on their faces. They looked at each other for a few moments before bursting into laughter.

“This is so fun!” she said.

“I know. We should order pizza afterwards. It’ll cheer you up after losing.

“Ohoho! I never knew you as a trash talker!”

“All’s fair in love and Pokémon battles.”

They connected their consoles together and turned them on. He walked into the Cinnabar Island Pokémon Center, and she walked into the Cerulean City Pokémon Center. They each talked to a woman on the right side. The woman welcomed them to the cable club. Within that world, she was the inter-dimensional guardian who allowed trainers to gain access to a parallel universe. She did just that, and the battle commenced.

She couldn’t stop smiling. More memories flooded her mind. She recalled her childhood in Maine. Her dad, one early December night, told her and her brothers that his money was low, and that Christmas wouldn’t be quite what it usually was. That’s okay, they said, we still have our family. It turned out to be a lie. Her father had actually made more money than ever that year. Under the Christmas tree sat eight wrapped boxes, two for each of the kids. They ripped open the presents, each finding their own uniquely colored version of “the latest gadget,” as their father put it. In their second boxes they found “the latest fad,” which is how their father described Pokémon.

Then, she recalled, her eldest brother retrieved a large bag from his room. He looked embarrassed, and he spoke awkwardly, admitting that he also got gifts for everyone. He passed them out, and their father asked him where he got the money. Her brother timidly explained that, when he heard they had no money for Christmas presents, he went around the town, house to house, completing various chores and tasks in exchange for payment. It was the second and final time she saw her father shed a tear.

He also felt memories hit his head. He remembered his first week at the University of Kansas. He had grown up with no siblings, and he’d had trouble connecting with his classmates throughout elementary, middle, and high school. He now lived 1,500 miles away from his hometown of Irvine, California, anxious for a fresh start. On Thursday he saw her sitting in the lecture hall, ten rows from the front. She was just stunning. He thought about her all day. A week later he plucked up the courage to sit next to her, but he didn’t talk to her. He couldn’t think of anything to say, which was unusual for him. He wanted something light, conversational, but also charming and maybe funny, but not trying too hard to be funny, but something that could lead to a bit of banter, and something that was memorable, that made an interesting first impression, perhaps something complimentary, but not too complimentary. He racked his brains and came up with nothing. He missed the whole lecture.

Finally, a few sessions later, he managed to speak to her. It was the best decision he had ever made or would ever make. After class, they ate lunch together, and soon they started dating. And now, sitting on the floor with her, playing this silly old game, he once again appreciated how lucky he was to meet her at all, coming from opposite corners of the country. Over the years he would describe their relationship, saying, “we met in the middle, we meet in the middle.”

He started with an Aerodactyl, number 142 in the Pokédex. She started with Ninetales, number 38 in the Pokédex. From a type perspective, the advantage was held by his rock Pokémon. Yet, for a mysterious reason, the game’s programmers did not allow Aerodactyl to learn any rock type moves. The programmers made many strange decisions with the game. Nevertheless, Aerodactyl moved first, flying into the air. Ninetales threw out a fire blast, which, understandably, missed. On the next turn, she swapped out her Ninetales in exchange for Blastoise, number 9 in the Pokédex. Now she had the type advantage.

Aerodactyl flew at Blastoise. It was a critical hit! Blastoise lost almost half of its health points. Aerodactyl, being a particularly fast Pokémon, attacked again, using hyper beam. The attack missed.

“It missed?” he said incredulously. “How can you miss a huge, fat target like that?”

“Don’t listen to him, Blastoise!”

Blastoise didn’t listen. Instead, it used surf. It was a critical hit, it was super effective, and Aerodactyl fainted.

“Unbelievable,” he said. He took a few moments before deciding on Tauros, number 128 in the Pokédex, as his next Pokémon.

Tauros used strength, which was yet another critical hit.

“What is this?” she said, “critical hit land?”

Blastoise barely survived. It was therefore able to use another surf, which depleted approximately one third of Tauros’ health. Tauros used another strength to eliminate Blastoise once and for all. She threw Ninetales back into the fray. Tauros used double-edge, which did significant damage to Ninetales, but it also hit Tauros with recoil. Ninetales retaliated with flamethrower, and Tauros fainted. The combination of recoil and flames were just too much for the bull Pokémon. He immediately threw out his water Pokémon, Gyarados, number 130 in the Pokédex. Since Ninetales had such little health left, she decided to use confuse ray in an attempt to forestall the inevitable. The ferocious water dragon, though not a dragon type, became confused, and it hurt itself in confusion!

He threw his head back, groaning. “Are you kidding me?”

Though it was not very effective, Ninetales used flamethrower. It contributed a modest amount of damage. Gyarados used surf, which knocked out Ninetales. With no hesitation, she deployed Raichu, number 26 in the Pokédex.

“Oh no,” he said.

Raichu used thunderbolt, a move that is four times super effective against Gyarados. Thus, it completely eliminated the water/flying Pokemon. Naturally he threw out the ground/rock type Rhydon, number 112 in the Pokédex. She pondered, considering using swift with Raichu or switching to another Pokémon. Eventually she chose to throw out Clefable, number 36 in the Pokédex. In response, Rhydon made the earth quake. Clefable lost almost half its health. It then attacked with psychic. Though it’s a strong move, it only removed a quarter of Rhydon’s health.

“Not too bad,” he said.

Rhydon caused another earthquake, and Clefable barely survived. She sighed and told Clefable to use another psychic. Rhydon finished Clefable off with a critical hit earthquake.

“Another critical hit?” she said. “Are you serious? Are you serious right now? Are you cheating?” They both looked up from their game screens and into each other’s eyes. He smiled. “Are you cheating right now? Did you open up the game and rewire it to give you critical hits?”

“You severely overestimate my rewiring abilities.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. It was a waste of a critical hit anyway!”

“Okay. Whatever, let’s just get back to the battle. Back to the rigged battle with a cheater.”

He laughed. She sent out her Nidoqueen, number 31 in the Pokédex. They both chose earthquake, but Nidoqueen was faster, therefore it attacked first. It was super effective, and Rhydon fainted. He threw out his Dragonite, number 149 in the Pokédex.

“Aerodactyl, Gyarados, and Dragonite? What are you, Lance? Are you a Lance wannabe?”

“Yes, I am!”

Dragonite caused a blizzard. Not only was the extreme weather event super effective, it also froze Nidoqueen solid. She looked up from the game and glared at him. He tried to keep himself from laughing.

“Cheating!”

“There’s a ten percent chance of that happening!” he said.

“Ten!”

“That’s not nothing!”

“Unbelievable.”

They went back to the game with him still grinning. Nidoqueen, being frozen, could not do anything. Dragonite body slammed the frozen queen twice, causing it to faint. She sent out Raichu to take on the great dragon. The electric rat used thunderbolt. It was a critical hit, and it took half of Dragonite’s health.

“About time,” she said.

Dragonite retaliated with another body slam. The slam did just over a third of Raichu’s health. He pondered for a while before selecting his next move. Raichu attacked with another thunderbolt. The bolt reduced Dragonite to a quarter of its health. Dragonite sent a hyper beam, whatever that is, at Raichu. He watched Raichu’s health bar intensely. It seemed to drain slower than usual. He waited. It stopped just barely before the end. He sighed in disappointment. Another bolt, and Dragonite fainted. He threw out his final Pokémon, Charizard, number 6 in the Pokédex. He felt nervous because thunderbolt would be super effective against the flying Charizard. Charizard was a flying Pokémon that could not learn the move “fly,” for some reason.

Luckily for him, Charizard attacked first with a flamethrower, eliminating Raichu from the battle.

“Okay,” he said. “This is it. One Pokémon each. Full HP. Final showdown.”

She threw out her last Pokémon, Snorlax, number 143 in the Pokédex.

“Oh no.”

Snorlax, being a gigantic sleepy Pokémon, is slow, so Charizard attacked first with a flamethrower. The big cuddly beast lost a quarter of its health before responding with a body slam. The fire-breathing dragon, that wasn’t a dragon type, lost a third of its health and became paralyzed.

“Paralyzed? That’s not good. That’s very bad. Desperate times…” he said as he selected his next move.

Charizard, being paralyzed, now moved slower than Snorlax, who attacked with another body slam. Charizard clung to its last third of health as it threw out a fire spin, which hit critically.

“Of course,” she said. “Of course it’s a critical hit! Why wouldn’t it be?”

Snorlax was trapped. It couldn’t move. Charizard’s attack continued, taking more of its health points. In the next turn, Snorlax remained trapped, and the fire spin took more health.

“This is so cheap,” she said.

The attack ended, and because Snorlax had just under half of its health points remaining, it used rest, filling its health. Imagine being able to fall asleep on command after enduring three fire spin attacks. Charizard slashed at the sleeping beast. It was a critical hit, as slashes often are. In the next turn, Snorlax slept and Charizard didn’t attack due to his paralysis. They were just two monsters facing each other, each unable to move. Snorlax then woke up and immediately endured a fire blast. Again, Snorlax had just under half of its health points remaining, but this time it body slammed Charizard, causing it to faint, ending the battle.

“I won!” she said with a big, unabashed smile. “I’m the true Pokémon master! Professor Oak would be so proud!”

“I love you.”