#kjbfjkafkgskd I'M POSTING IT OK I'M FUCKIN DONE I'M NOT WRITING ANY MORE ON THIS

[snippyrocket]

cw for abuse / suicide, and mentions of murder.

Their family begins as most families tend to. Average. Working class. Young, and full of dreams for the future.

The husband: Jun Yamazaki. A hard-working salaryman from Vermilion City, Kanto. The wife: Sachiko Yamazaki. A gentle, kind-hearted Pokemon Center employee with elderly parents back in Johto.

The couple were introduced by their parents, and the two were a good match. They had plenty of common, laughed at one another's jokes, and were really quite smitten with one another at the start.

They made their family home in Saffron City shortly after their marriage, and their son Shinya was born one year later in the City Hospital. It was 2:34am on August 2nd, a swelteringly hot summer's morning.

Sachiko devoted herself entirely to her family, giving up her role at the Pokemon Center to instead care for her newborn son and husband. Jun worked extremely long hours to provide for his family, keen to make a name for himself at his new job.

The boy remembers his mother well. The two of them were nigh inseparable during the early years of his life. Wherever Sachiko went, Shinya was sure to be found toddling about right alongside her, tiny hands clutching the hem of his mother's skirt.

A true mother's boy, through and through, and for a time things were good. Their happiness, however, would remain short-lived.

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The first time he realized his family wasn't quite like that of his peers, Shinya was seven. He'd stayed at a friend's house and found himself fascinated by the sights and sounds there. Their father would come home (so early, he'd thought) and greet his wife with a kiss to the cheek.

At the dinner table, the friend and his siblings spoke freely to their father instead of waiting to be spoken to. They smiled and they laughed and played with their food, and though Shinya was initially quiet and shy, he too began to feel at home.

It was lighthearted, warm, and so very, very free.

When he tried to emulate that same behavior at home the next day, he was struck across the face for it.

Few times did his father ever pay him notice -- and when he did, it was never good. Not that Shinya minded being out of sight. The man came home late at night smelling strange, always looked tired and grim, and (perhaps most importantly) he was the cause of much grief for his beloved mother, always accusing of this or that. Always so angry.

He'd hear them at night. It was impossible not to when the walls were that thin. In time, he thought that the neighbors must have heard them too. Did they not care? Did nobody care?

The boy never particularly liked school. He was loathe to be separated from mom and studying was a chore... But for a time, it became his source of entertainment and escape. At first it was small things. Restlessness in class, tossing objects, distracting the other students with his antics -- and the more the teachers tried to ignore the behavior, the worse it became.

But he was never a violent kid. Not really. He was social, had friends, and hung out with them on evenings and vacations.  He liked basketball and played games on the weekends. Sometimes he’d get to make crafts and bring them home to mom, and she’d smile at him like it was the absolute world to her. 

He was a class clown, certainly, but nobody regarded him as a bully until he moved on from Elementary to Junior High.

It was there that the kids he'd known all these years began to outgrow his childish behavior -- and where before his friends had laughed at his jokes and maybe even joined in, his efforts now went ignored as they focused on more studious pursuits.

They went to club practice and studied for tests, and Shinya... Did none of that. He skipped class -- and when he couldn't skip it, he slept through it.

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It was at this same time that his mother left.

Suicide, they said. He was told that she had thrown herself onto the train tracks. For what reason, he couldn't be sure -- completely unaware that his father had even filed for divorce to begin with. He couldn't have known that he had stolen her documents and illegally used her seal to force it through, claiming all of their assets for himself -- and, perhaps most painful of all, restricted access to her child.

Despite the fradulent nature of the divorce, once it's submitted to city hall, it is legally binding -- and it gives non-natives to the Kanto region no legal footing to stand on unless they somehow counter it before it's filed.

She was forced out of the home during the day, told never to return... And by the time Shinya returned from school she was dead.

He didn’t understand. He was distraught. Why would she do that? Why would she leave him when she promised -- fucking promised -- that she never would? Father never wanted him. Father never even so much as looked at him unless it was to express disappointment, and now he’d be stuck with him forever?

It wasn’t fair.

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From there, the pair moved on to a small apartment in Vermillion City, seeking to escape the emptiness and stigma that the death had left back in Saffron. Jun had parents there, so they would have family support, too. Shinya liked them enough, so it was nice to hang out with them from time to time when things with Dad got too much.

But with no friends and no motivation to stick around at his new school, Shinya began to hang around on the streets.

It was there that he had met some older boys who welcomed him with open arms. They were cool and smart -- and they commanded the notice of everyone around them. They walked with this attitude and pride that left the young man in awe. 

He wanted to be like that, too.

But it came at the cost of intimidation and violence: behavior which he took back with him to school... And, unsurprisingly, was quickly suspended for.

When he returned home, his father did not merely slap him for it, as he had before -- he came at him with fists and fury like that which he'd never seen before.

‘And who would blame me?’ he would say. The boy was ‘nothing but a nuisance.’ His grades were shameful. He disobeyed his teachers at his new school and picked fights with the other students. He’d bunk off from class, club activities, and especially his cram schooling, skipping studies in favor of messing around on the streets with his new ‘friends.’ 

It wasn’t long before he gave up on Junior High completely, falling afoul of the law on a regular basis. He fought with rival gangs for the respect and admiration of his peers, but it all came to a stop when he killed another teenager for the crime of simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He didn't mean for him to die. He didn’t.

Luckily for him, he was never caught. It was enough to change his mind about what he was doing. Haunted by what he’d done, he decided that he wanted out... And he did well, for a time. 

He left home behind and sought refuge with his grandparents – decent, genuine folk who meant well. He tried to readjust to a more normal life, and they even attempted to get their grandson a part time job -- but their efforts were met with rejection after rejection. The community knew him well, and he was not welcome in any of their businesses.

Unable to cope with the constant disappointment and rejection, the boy repaid their kindness by stealing their money and fleeing, intending to make a new life for himself in Celadon City.

He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, and the money didn’t last. Quickly, he fell back into old habits, made friends with all the wrong people, and thus the cycle began anew.

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That’s when he first came upon Rocket. In the murky underground streets, they were impossible to miss. Everyone knew and respected them… And what Proton wanted most was to earn that same kind of respect and notoriety.

He had to join them -- some way, some how.

Team Rocket had a culture unlike any gang he’d ever seen before. On the streets, it was every man for himself… But life with them looked to be different. They were one unit who worked toward a common goal. They supported their subordinates well, and expected hard work in return… And yet they were somehow still capable of ruthlessness. They inspired fear in everyone they met.

It was something that awed and fascinated him, and so he demanded to be introduced to one of their recruiters... And, predictably, he got his ass absolutely handed to him for daring to be so gutsy, but it was a start. It got his foot in the door.

He was still just a teen when he joined the ranks, taking the codename of Proton.

Rash and impulsive, the kid had serious issues with obeying rules, and had a tendency to lash out in anger, but he was still fairly social around grunts, agents, and clients alike. He was likable and charming in spite of his faults, and his dedication to the team (plus a determination to succeed, no matter the personal cost to himself) was what ultimately kept him around. 

Killing was something he struggled, with, initially -- but when that same hesitation almost cost him his life, he quickly learned to get over it. Rocket was cruel, and Proton needed to be crueler to survive and thrive -- needed to learn to switch off those feelings of guilt and learned that he should crush the weak beneath his boot, lest he be the one to wind up in their place.

He was a nice boy, at heart, but he absolutely refused to take anyone’s shit -- and he was responsible. Not in the sense that he was particularly mature (in fact, he can still be terribly immature to this day) but he was always honest when things went wrong. He admits to serious wrongdoings and bounces back from them with twice as much enthusiasm. 

In time, Rocket was like his family -- and had in many ways replaced his own. He would much sooner die for his team than leave them behind, because they gave him the chance to make something of himself in a world where he otherwise wouldn’t.

 As he climbed the ranks, he’d take care of those beneath him because he depended on them not to stab him in the back when it was turned. He has never once thrown his squad members under the bus as far as failure is concerned. In fact, it has always been his policy to take the blame for the actions of his subordinates with his own superiors first -- because he saw their failure as his own failure. He could assign them their own punishment after the fact, and it would be fair. Rockets from other departments, however, never got that same luxury, and traitors even less so.

The promotion to Executive is a more recent development in Proton’s career -- and in many ways, he’s still adjusting to it. However, his unpredictable and explosive behavior is much easier to control under the direct guidance of a firm hand, and he’s flourished with the opportunities his new role has brought him. There’s still much for him to learn, but he’s willing and ready... Unless it involves Archer, because frankly? Fuck that guy.

He is absolutely in awe of Giovanni, and it shows. His boss is someone he can look to for the kind of support and leadership that he’s always wanted: someone who trusts him to take care of business, wants him to succeed, and ultimately treats him with respect. 

He’s like the father he always wanted, but Proton will never dare to admit that, because that’s... a pretty weird thing to admit to your boss, right? 

And, as always, he will come to be abandoned and disappointed yet once more.