N Drabbles
Rating: T for some dark themes.
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.
OK. This is my first fan fiction so please don't be so hard on me. All critiques and suggestions are appreciated. Please rate and review.
01. Remember
N could remember many things. Like how to solve equations, certain quotes he heard from Pokemon he communicated with, the heartbreak he felt when he first laid eyes on an injured Pokemon. But he can hardly remember the kind lady with blue eyes and a kind smile. He can hardly even recalled what she looked or sounded like. Was her voice soft, or was it different? All he has of her, this woman he called mother, is his blue eyes and music box with a haunting melody.
02. Tears
Salty water pouring like a waterfall fell unto the now rotting corpse of the Daramatian. The green haired boy cried a river as he wept over the fire type and its wounds from the disgusting beings called humans. One of these beings came into his playroom, knight armor attire with a body bag. The grunt didn't as to glance at the crying prince as he gathered up the remains of the child's friend into the bag like it was garbage and left without a word. N remained there, hands over his face as he wept over the blood stained carpet.
03. Escape
Numbers and letters were drawled across the board as the lad solved the equation of the day. His blue gray eyes moved around the board at record speed as his mind solved the mathematical formulas. He kept on writing and writing on the white board, seemingly numb and emotionless. Here in math, there is no pain. No kingly duties, no expectations. Just him and his numbers and letters. Anything to numb the torment that was his life. Anything to keep the voices in his head to shut up.
04. Question
The beings of the shadows come to greet their king, all kneeling and head low. Emotionless words and sentences leave their mouths as they report to him that the trainer he had befriended was working their way up through the castle. 'Almost time.' he thinks. "Thank you, that will be all." he says with the same lack of emotion as they had. He has had years of practice to conceal his emotions. They disappear into air, as though they had never been there at all. He sits on his throne, a king ready for battle. Yet the twenty year old doesn't feel like one. 'Be their king, N.' he tells himself. He must be tall and proud, and give orders with no regrets. Yet after meeting that certain trainer, he can't help but second guess every move he makes.
05. Nightmare
The young man sleeps in his royal bed, silk covers over him like a cocoon. Yet despite the luxury, he sweats and pants when he should be relaxed and resting. In his mind's eye he can see the torment of Pokemon caused by their trainers, a sick world of gray, which he aspires to make separate, black and white. Then he sees himself, a being in a human body, but thinks like a Pokemon. Black, being human, the sick and twisted thing of the world, and white, being Pokemon, simple, pure, and giving. For as far back as he can remember, Pokemon were kind to their kin, they were the ones that took care of him in the forest after all. Yet humans were so foul, even hurting their own kind. He had experienced it personally. Not all of the scars he had were from playing with Pokemon. What scares him is he is both, a dreadful and lifeless shade of gray.
06. Wander
Fleeing from Unova, the young man and his trusted dragon went to several places; Sinnoh, Kanto, Hoenn, and even Johto. So many different people and pokemon alike. Some kind, some not. He met so many good people with problems. He met some people who appeared to be on the wrong path, but they still had some form of hope. The young man was proven wrong again, the world is not black and white as he had previously thought. As he flies over the lands and seas, he knows there is something he has yet to find. So he continues to search endlessly for anything; answers, companions, even more challenges to his intellect.
07. Over
After he came back, he tried to explain to his now insane father (the day finally came) that Pokemon were not tools. He heard him yell and curse at him (again). But here, he could see now that his father was lost (he was in denial before this), and he didn't have anyone's good in mind but his own. With a sad glint in his eyes, he lets the Shadow Triad take him away, knowing he did all he could. N never realized (was too blind to see) his father was nothing more than a lost cause.
08. Change
When he explored Unova again, so much had changed. There were three new gym leaders, one being Cheren, whom had changed so much also, a island he never even heard about with towns, and so much more. Many of the changes he personally didn't like. He felt out of place walking around in the same attire he had two years before. He felt lonely. Some of the former plasma grunts were staying in a safe house in Driftel with the goddesses, taking care of some of the Pokemon and treating them like friends, not tools. That was a change he loved.
09. Ruins
Walking around the place he once called home (hell) was depressing (yet made him rejoice at the same time). There was rubble and dust everywhere, and many rooms were not accessible due to some of the pillars collapsing, and no beautiful clear water fell from waterfalls in the halls. The throne room was a mess, and N had to watch his step to make sure he didn't step on any broken glass from any windows. The castle was a ghost of a once powerful (awful) organization.
10. Destroy
Coming into the one place that remained mostly intact, N had a series of emotions hit him like bricks. The toys, trains, darts, basketball hoop, and the skate ramp, brought him to remember the lies that he was fed (that were shoved down his throat) by that bastard called Ghetsis. He clinched his fist recalling all the strife he put up with in his time here, in this playroom (jail cell). This was just a sign to his naivete, his childlike innocence that made him such an easy target. First, he pushed down the hoop with his strength, making it fall with a loud heavy thud. 'Not enough.' he thinks. The green haired twenty-two year old is still seething with pent up anger (murderous rage) from years of abuse and believing the blasphemy from the person who said he would love him.
Loud screams and yells filled with emotion (pain) occupied the room as he kicked the train set, the one had spent hours playing with. The man then knocked over the boxes of toys, its contents falling on the floor. He felt oddly better (proud) yet worse (ashamed) at the same time with every toy being demolished. After spending what seemed like hours (centuries) taking his room apart, he slid down the side of the skateboard ramp and sat on his bottom, panting. A strange sense of satisfaction filled him, but he still felt there was unfinished business to be taken care of. N tried to pull himself together and think.
His pain was gone (if only for a moment). He picked up a shard of glass, thinking he should put it out of the way before he would step on it. Looking at his reflection, he saw the sick similarities of him and Ghetsis; the green hair, tall, same skin, even the same glint of sickness (madness) was in his eyes. N yelled as he gripped the glass, before it back fired and threw it across the room, making it shatter into tiny pieces. He touched his face, not wanting to believe the horrible reality. He felt wetness on his face and hand, and looking at his slender fingers, sees blood (the same blood that runs through Ghetsis's veins). The lad could only cry out, knowing that Ghetsis had destroyed the man inside.
End