Synthesis
Disclaimer: Satoshi Tajiri owns all rights to Pokemon, I am not Tajiri-san, therefore I do not own Pokemon.
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My first glance of you was a blur of color. You had shaggy black hair framing your flushed face to give me the impression you were full
of life. It was quite different back then, you were young and ambitious. That day you waved good-bye to your mother and paced to the
lab. You had just chosen a starter according to your preference. The flame type, I believe. That minuscule mouse was timid and warmed
up to you. You casted it away after it showed vying affection without doubt. You thought it was too trusting. Trust makes humans do
stupid things.
I was floating. Weightlessly above the tall, narrow grass that adorned the region. According to the experts, I was a common sight on the
route.You needed someone to remind you of your indisposed state, perhaps? I was the perfect candidate. I had fragile tendrils and could
only flail my useless limbs around. You set unforgiving flames on me for the entertainment of trainers. That sharp bite from the back of the
mouse singed my body badly. My flaw is floating where ever the wind carries me, I can never direct my path. As pillars of flames spread
outward from the field and surrounded me, I started choking.You set down the round metallic container in front of me. No doubt giving
me a choice to die or be enslaved. I chose to be captured. Therefore, you can never own me.
The second memory I had of you was a bright flash and I was back in my material state. You told me that your name was something I
couldn't pronounce. Due to my limited vocabulary. I did repetitions of "hoppip, pip," to express joy, anger, sadness, sorrow. You held
me and stared at me. You told me I was pink, a shade resembling cherry blossoms in spring. I did not enjoy being held and stared at, so
I did some more useless splashing motions. By this time, you had brought back your third trinket from a gym. I learned that the fire type
was called Cyndaquil by the way it expressed itself. We headed out from the healing center and hiked onto the trail. In an instant,I was
up against a cat with sharp, menacing claws. Its trainer yelled something incoherent, and it responded by looking back at the human with
blond locks. I realized it had been named by its trainer. I thought it was disgusting the way it threw away its identity to take a label like
someone's property. It hissed and swung its heavy paws at my shoulder. My pale veiny skin instantly reduced to ribbons. I lashed out
with mega drain,sucking away the cat's energy until it lost consciousness. To my surprise, the boy knelt down by its fallen companion and
started to sob. Wetness matted his long lashes and drifted south to his cheeks. So much concern over a weak Persian.
I looked to you for approval to finish it off. With your face hidden in shadow, I couldn't tell your expression apart from the scenery. You
raised up your hand in a gesture to stop me. I obliged. I had already taken away the much sought-after victory.
We headed back to the healing center for resting the night. I looked at you with your dark, trimmed bangs covering your eyes.
Then you congratulated me, that was the first time I felt something stir within- a sentimental feeling unfamiliar to an untamed pokemon. I
noticed your gender for the first time. To define a female would be something soft and caring, you were more like strong and dictating. I
could accept that. The room smelled of antiseptic and blank paint adorned the walls.
You smoothed the bed sheets and held me close.
In a few months, you have triumphed over all the gym leaders. I was very trained for a un-evolved. You handed me an everstone to stop
me from evolving. This was the only trait that was feminine about you. You liked things to be small and vulnerable. Creating skilled
pokemon from what other people regarded as weak was your area of expertise. Your party was full of un-evolveds, you worked with a
pokemon that looked like a magnet. There was a rare clam like pokemon with abilities to conjure ice. There was a psychic pokemon that
slept through most of its battles. You also caught a feathery blue avian.
The devoted Cyndaquil was always there and of course, me. After dashing through the four master trainers considered to be "elites." I
noticed you grasping a framed case. I felt a twinge of jealousy as I recognized you as the laughing infant holding the boy's hand in a
setting I recognized as a town we had passed. The blond boy whose pokemon I had spared. You stroked the photo fondly as a curve
played on your lips. I wish I could make you smile like that. I knew my feelings of adulation stood as much a chance as Lance's dragons
against your blizzards synonymous to frost bites. You know his weaknesses as well as mine.
You waited many months for that blond pretty boy to reach you, the champion at elite hall. On the day cherry blossoms bloomed, your
mothered phoned. I processed this conversation with the mind-reader technique you taught me.
I synchronized our mental thoughts as you pressed pick-up on your compact pokegear.
" I want you to come home immediately." Your mother's voice was grave and devoid of celebration. "Scott got into an accident. He was
burned to death by a wild pokemon." She stated with melancholic tones. I realized Scott was the boy from your childhood you yearned
for. With a click to end the conversation, your bright eyes became glassy and dull. I watched as you loosened the emotion you have
never bothered to show me. A flood flowed from your magenta orbs and dry coughs racked your body. I grimaced as you smashed
open all your "champion" pokeballs. The animals, glad for release and freedom, raced away into the wild. Only that foolish cyndaquil
stayed and cuddled against you, oblivious to the death of your solicitude. You perceived the heat rising from its back and screamed in
anguish. I watched as you grabbed wildly at it and the Cyndaquil fired up flames in surprise."You killed him!" You shrieked delusionally.
The cyndaquil's flames licked the grass in the meadow and trapped you in the advancing inferno. The Cyndaquil will survive, its own
element won't harm it.
You were suffering as your last breaths left your body in gasps, struggling to draw in air uncontaminated with smoke.
I decided to do something you've never approved of in battle- show mercy to an opponent. My spores lit the air as you drifted off to
unconsciousness lullabies can never achieve.
Out of the countless days I've known you, I would describe you as a intense, dedicated mentor. You never told me of your suicidal
tendencies.