Leftovers
Slouched back in a chair by the desk, the boy admittedly appeared rather harmless. The dying light bulb overhead fizzled on every few seconds, illuminating his mop of curly red hair and babyishly round face. Draping the folds of his baggy brown sweatshirt over the chair's arms, he alternated listlessly between picking at a stain in his jeans and fiddling with the round-framed glasses that kept sliding down his nose. He didn't even look up as the click of a lock sounded at the top of the stairs.
Swiftly pocketing the key to the door, a dark-haired, wild-eyed man at least a decade older stormed back down into the basement. From the boy's side, a Vulpix pup followed the man's brusque movements with gleaming hazel eyes.
Glaring distrustfully at the Pokémon, the man reached in his jacket for a PokéBall.
The boy looked up at last, auburn strands of hair sliding across his forehead. "Don't worry, sir," he said in a calm, pleasant voice. "My Vulpix won't do anything." His eyes narrowed to mere slits as his lips curled into a smile. "Not unless I tell him to, of course."
The Vulpix rose slightly off his haunches, stubby tails twitching in the air.
Warily keeping one hand over his PokéBall, the man turned irritably towards the child. "Don't try anything funny, kid," he growled, dark eyes flashing. "You have a Snover's chance in hell of worming out this time." Pausing, he searched for a flinch, a twitch, a crack…anything at all…in the boy's cherubic face, but was met only with unperturbed placidity.
"Where are the Pokémon you stole?" the man demanded at last, expression hardening.
The boy's innocent smile didn't waver. "No one can prove I have any stolen Pokémon, sir. You know those charges were dropped ages ago."
A crash resounded through the room as the man slammed his palms against the desk. Hands tensing into white-knuckled fists, he leaned forward until he and the boy were eye to eye. The boy, for his part, only blinked owlishly behind his overly-large glasses.
Forcing himself to take a steadying breath, the man pulled out a slender manila folder. The folder's contents splayed across the desk as he slapped it down, revealing an eclectic assortment of photocopies, handwritten notes, and photographs. Snatching a sheet out of the mess, one stapled to a grainy photograph of a Houndour with scars crisscrossing its body, the man began to read.
"Case #1. Battle Park ID Number 18666 - female Houndour, multiple scars over right eye and back - stolen April 30 from the park rental shop. Suspect is a twelve to fifteen year old male wearing glasses, brown sweatshirt, and jeans; believed to own a Vulpix and/or Ninetales. Return of the Houndour to Johto Battle Park, or equivalent compensation, is requested immediately…"
Half-hidden in the wings of Indigo Stadium, the Houndour from the photograph sneezed. Small jets of flame shot out of her nostrils, singeing the young Bayleef in front of her. Yelping and swerving about, the Bayleef glared, then smacked the sheepish Houndour with the leaf on her head.
A warning grunt came from the wiry Pikachu behind them. Tail tapping against the cement in a tense, twitchy rhythm, the rodent Pokémon stared impatiently out at the flurry of shadows flickering across the stadium arena. As a muffled cacophony of roars and thuds sounded in the distance, the trainer at the Pikachu's side, a willowy girl with her long pale hair pulled into a ponytail, shuddered nervously.
A shrill whistle pierced the air, followed by a deafening storm of applause. "And Taylor's Salamence destroys Lillis's Golem with an out-of-this-world Draco Meteor!" the voice of an announcer boomed, amplified over the PA system. "Veronica Taylor will be advancing into the semifinals!"
The beating of the Pikachu's tail grew increasingly edgy. The Ninetales standing nearby gently tried to place a paw on said tail, only to be forced away with an irritable shake.
"Hang on to your hats, folks, because Kanto's 11th Annual Public Tournament is really heating up!" the announcer continued excitedly. "Last call for sign-ups at the front desk! There's no need for badges or fancy certifications, because here at the Public Tournament, we have only one rule. May the best of the best prevail!"
There was a melodic ding as the enormous TV screen at the front of the arena lit up with a fresh display board. "Our next match is between Ryan Long from Ever Grande and Kin Makoto from Castelia City! Long and Makoto, please enter the arena!"
Head leaf whirling about, the Bayleef bounded out of the stadium wings with an excited cry. The Pikachu dropped onto all fours and padded after the other Pokémon, eyes never leaving the impending battlefield. He was followed closely by the Ninetales and the female trainer.
The Houndour, on the other hand, hung back, eyes darting towards the bright arena in the distance, then back to the dimly-lit waiting area from which they had come. She whimpered softly, involuntarily shrinking into the shadows.
"Chu!" came a brusque cry. The Houndour's stubby black tail twitched at the sound. Glancing up, she saw that the Pikachu had paused upon the threshold of the waiting wings, his small form framed against the sunlight. With a jerk of his head, he indicated the awaiting battleground.
Biting back a second whimper, the Houndour trotted towards the light.
"Sammy," the boy said, voice echoing through the murky room.
The man, who had just been about to reach for a second case report, paused. "What?"
"That's what we ended up calling her." The boy indicated the photograph of the Houndour with a jab of his index finger. "Battle Park ID Number 18666 is a bit of a mouthful. So we call her Sammy."
"Then you admit you stole this Pokémon."
"Of course not." As the light bulb blinked on for several more seconds, however, the man thought he glimpsed a paper-thin crack in the child's formerly impenetrable poise.
"Though Sammy was the first one," the boy said at last, wrapping his oversized sweatshirt more snuggly around his body. "Sometimes I worry that we made a mistake with her…"
Stepping tentatively out of the shadows, Sammy was instantly assaulted by a wave of heat. The midday sun glared relentlessly down on her scar-riddled back, giving rise to a sticky coat of sweat beneath her fur. Blinking her one good eye (the other had long been covered by scar tissue), the Houndour froze. As her sight acclimated to the light, she could just make out the thousands of bleachers towering over all sides of the stadium arena. Each of the gleaming white stands overflowed with rambunctious spectators who, from afar, were no more than ant-like pinpricks of noise and motion.
Trembling, Sammy turned away. Tail tucked between her legs, she jerkily made her way to the sidelines where her teammates were waiting.
"Our first contender, Ryan Long, is an up-and-coming superstar who took third in the Hoenn League last year!" the announcer was saying now. "Let's have everyone give him a warm welcome!"
Sammy winced as the crowd cheered, filling her sensitive ears with their raucous cries. On the other side of the arena, she saw a tanned trainer with scruffy brown hair strolling forward, waving and grinning at the vast audience.
"Our next challenger is the potential dark horse Kin Makoto! This is Kin's first tournament in Kanto, folks, and I'm sure she'll make it a good one!"
From where she stood by the Pikachu and her other Pokémon, the female trainer pumped her hand into the air, her long blonde ponytail swishing.
"Each trainer is allowed only three Pokémon for this match," the announcer continued over the shouts of the spectators. "Will each trainer please send out their first Pokémon?"
A crimson burst shot through the air at the opposite end of the arena. As the light faded, a rumbling roar resounded throughout the stadium. Raising his massive tusks and bellowing again, a bulky beast covered in shaggy brown fur lumbered forward.
Sammy's eyes widened as the enormous Pokémon approached, the ground shaking beneath his considerable weight. Trembling, she ducked behind Makoto's legs and closed her eyes.
"And Long starts off with a Mamoswine!" the announcer shouted. "How will Makoto handle this hefty hog?"
"Baaaay!" the Bayleef standing next to Makoto growled, pawing restlessly at the ground as she eyed the opposing Pokémon.
On the trainer's other side, however, the Pikachu shook his head. Though the Bayleef protested with a strident cry, he turned instead to the Houndour. With a jab of his lightning-bolt shaped tail, he pointed towards the cowering dog Pokémon, then out towards the arena. "Chuu," the Pikachu said tersely.
"Sammy?" Makoto asked hesitantly.
Body shaking, Sammy shook her head.
"Chu," the Pikachu said in a low voice. "Pikapi pii. Chu."
This time, Sammy looked into the Pikachu's beady black eyes. The small Electric Pokémon nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact.
Taking a deep breath, the Houndour finally nodded back. Forcing her limbs to straighten and her tail to stand erect, she walked onto the field.
"And so Makoto sends out her Houndour!" the announcer proclaimed as Sammy entered the arena. "Let the battle begin!"
"Earthquake, Mamoswine!" Long, the opposing trainer, commanded in a ringing voice. His gargantuan Pokémon obliged by rearing onto his hind feet with a mighty snarl, then smashing his muscular forelegs into the ground. The surface of the pavement ripped asunder upon impact, sending powerful shockwaves racing across the arena.
Sammy was thrown onto her side before she could even react, skull colliding against the now-cracked cement.
"Now use Ice Shard!" Long cried.
The Houndour barely had enough time to scramble away before a blazing blue ball slammed into the ground beside her. She fell back, crying out fearfully, as splinters of ice flew in all directions.
"Sammy!" Makoto began yelling, but Sammy's head was swimming too much for her to make out the rest of the trainer's words. As she stumbled away from the debris of ice and broken cement, her breath came out in increasingly ragged gasps. The ground still felt like it was buckling sickeningly beneath her…no matter where she tried to plant her paws, they still threatened to collapse under her badly shaking body…
She only noticed the second blast of ice when it was already upon her. It struck her hard in the side, shoving her across the battlefield in a rain of razor-sharp crystals. The Houndour hit the earth with a strangled scream, chips of ice stabbing into her back and tearing open her old scars.
"Sammy!" someone was calling from far, far away.
With a shudder, Sammy closed her eyes.
"Sammy's never been a fighter, you see," the boy said matter-of-factly, still gazing at the Houndour's photograph. "She avoids confrontation, quits too easily, and is scared of everything – failure most of all. You might say a Pokémon like her was never meant to battle."
His lips stretched into a smile yet again, though this time the expression seemed almost sardonic. "Her old trainer didn't like that," the boy said, still smiling. "To him, Sammy was weak and spineless, and he always let her know it. He's the reason Sammy's got those scars, you know. The only thing he ever got from her was the fifty dollars he made when he sold her to the Battle Park." A soft, mirthless chuckle issued up from his throat.
"Sammy didn't do well as a rental Pokémon, of course," the boy went on. "The people who used her always complained that she was useless, that she didn't have any guts."
Folding back the photograph, he held up the memo underneath and indicated the first paragraph. "Return of the Houndour to Johto Battle Park, or equivalent compensation, is requested immediately?" he read, echoing what the man had recited before. "Ha, I bet Sammy isn't worth more than a couple bucks. They probably forgot about this case a long time ago."
The man's eyes flashed angrily. Snatching the paper out of the boy's grasp, he glared at the youth's now smirking face. "So is that where you come in, Mr. Hero?" the man demanded, hand curling into a fist around the thin sheet. "You stole her to save her, is that right?"
The boy watched silently as the man tossed the now crumpled paper into the shadows. "You're wrong, sir," he said at last. "I can't save Sammy. The only one who can do that is Sammy herself."
"Sammy? Sammy!"
Slowly opening her one good eye, Sammy gazed blearily into the distance. Shapes and lights danced dizzyingly in and out of focus, taunting her with their elusive forms. Sounds joined them shortly afterwards, circling in and out of the recesses of her mind in a sickening parade. As the Houndour lay there, they grew louder and louder, gradually morphing into whole words.
Useless. Hopeless. Coward. Failure.
That mutt will never evolve. It's just too weak.
Feeling very, very tired, Sammy almost closed her eyes again. Another burst of noise, however, abruptly pierced her fading consciousness. "Makoto's Houndour is unable to battle. Victory goes to…"
No!
A murmur from the audience interrupted the announcer in mid-shout. Long, who'd been whooping with delight only moments before, swerved hurriedly about.
On the other side of the arena, the Houndour had struggled onto her feet, panting heavily all the while.
I don't have to be like that anymore.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, then lowering her head, Sammy ran towards her opponent.
Not budging from his position, the Mamoswine knocked the Houndour aside with his gleaming tusks. The smaller Pokémon crashed into the arena floor but staggered hastily back onto all fours. After a moment of fearful hesitation, she clenched her jaw and jumped into the air. The Mamoswine grunted as Sammy collided into his back and sunk her teeth into his shaggy hide. With a vehement shake, the Houndour went flying, a large mass of brown hair still clenched between her jaws.
Even it's hard…
Slamming into the pavement yet again, Sammy's body shuddered. Her head reeled as pain stabbed unrelentingly into her ribs. Trying her best to shove aside the nausea, then to force an unborn whimper back down her throat, the Houndour lurched into a standing position. One of her paws buckled as she did, sending her sprawling back against the ground.
There were more shouts overhead, but all Sammy could hear was the sudden rush of blood in her ears. Heart hammering, she staggered onto her feet for a second time and, after a few tense seconds, remained standing. Spitting out the fur in her mouth, the Houndour turned to her opponent with heightened resolve. A growl ripped out from between her jaws as she charged.
Even if it's only a little at a time...
The Mamoswine brandished his tusks in the Houndour's direction. To his surprise, a jet black fog erupted in front of him, stinging his eyes and obscuring his field of view. Twisting his head through the noxious vapor, the enormous Pokémon snorted in confusion.
Only the voice of the commentator penetrated the strange dark cloud. "And Makoto's Houndour counters with a Smog attack!" the announcer cried in surprise. "Looks like the little guy may have more fight left than I expected!"
The Houndour materialized from within the thick black haze, red-hot embers glowing between her jaws. The Mamoswine swung about just in time, smacking her in the side with his massive tusks. Sammy hit the ground, but rose hurriedly. Again, she launched a Smog attack and leapt at her massive adversary. Again, the Mamoswine clouted her back to the arena floor.
Even if no one else believes I can...
"Why on earth…" Long said incredulously as the battered Houndour struggled to rise once more. Her legs gave way beneath her almost immediately, but she gritted her teeth and fought to stand again, and again…and again. With each jerky motion, rivulets of blood rolled down Sammy's back and dribbled from her open mouth. More splattered onto the pavement each time she collapsed, forming a sticky pool beneath her body.
"What are you doing?" Long yelled at his opponent. "Your Pokémon can't go on like that! Recall it!"
I can change myself.
With a howl, Sammy summoned her final reserves of strength and ran headlong at the Mamoswine. As she opened her jaws, a wall of flame filled the stadium in blazing light and scorching heat.
When the smoke had finally faded, a murmur rippled through the audience. The Mamoswine's thick fur had been badly burnt, and the sound of his wheezing coughs echoed throughout the arena. The Houndour still stood before her opponent, chest heaving with each painful breath.
As she took a step towards the other Pokémon, however, Sammy's body crumpled onto the ground. This time, she did not get up.
The ding of a bell sounded in the distance. "Makoto's Houndour is unable to battle! Ryan Long wins the first round!"
Though cheers and applause resounded from the surrounding bleachers, the victorious trainer was not smiling. As he watched a team of Chansey medics cart the Houndour to the sidelines, he started shouting. "What kind of trainer are you, Makoto?" he demanded from across the battlefield. "Your Pokémon could've died out there!"
The Ninetales on Makoto's left side stiffened at these words.
From Makoto's right side, the Pikachu lifted his head. "Chu. Pika pika. Chuuu," he murmured in a low voice.
The female trainer didn't say anything at first. Slowly, however, the corners of her lips twitched into a small smile. "Maybe," she said. "Then maybe Sammy finally proved it to herself."
Long could only blink confusedly. "Huh?"
Any further protests on his part, however, were interrupted by a shrill screech of static over the PA system. "Will Kin Makoto please send out her second Pokémon?" rang the voice of the announcer.
The Bayleef standing beside Makoto shot the Pikachu a meaningful look. With a curt nod, the rodent Pokémon gestured towards the arena.
With a squeal of glee, the Bayleef took off as if she'd been launched from a rocket.
"Now, this one," the boy said before the man could interrupt, "is a completely different story." Deftly picking out another sheet, a photocopy of a newspaper clipping, he held it underneath the blinking light bulb and began to read.
"May 5. A break-in was reported at the New Bark Nursery facility last night at approximately 1 AM. Investigators believe that the perpetrators may have stolen one or more of the starter Pokémon bred specifically for the Johto New Trainers' program."
Pausing, the boy flipped through the stapled pages, then shifted perfunctorily through the photographs on the desk. "Oh," he said at last. "It seems you don't have a picture of Bruiser."
"What are you talking about?" the man snapped, patience wearing increasingly thin.
The boy indicated the news clipping. "Only one starter Pokémon left the breeding center that night," he said. "A Chikorita. Now she's a Bayleef who goes by the name Bruiser."
Placing the paper back on the desk, he leaned backwards in his seat. "In all honesty, I suppose I can't blame you for not having her picture. Most people find Bruiser…well…" He coughed delicately and scratched the back of his head. "Well, you could say she's a bit hard to look at. I doubt the New Bark breeding center particularly wants her back."
"That's not your call to make!" the man countered tetchily. "I don't care whatever excuses you've made to weasel your way out of this! Stealing is stealing, plain and simple!"
"Stealing?" the boy echoed with a dry laugh. "I didn't steal any more from Bruiser than what had already been taken from her by birth. Bruiser never got very many chances, you see, so she's always had to make her own. She's fought tooth and nail to get where she is now…"
As soon as Bruiser entered the arena, a hush fell over the previously lively audience. Magnified a hundred times over on the live TV screen, the Pokémon's misshapen form was clear for all to see. The Bayleef's skull slanted down at an abnormal angle, causing one eye to remain permanently drooped, while the other bulged out of a grotesquely oversized socket. The odd curvature of the Pokémon's back had left her body hunched and her center of gravity shifted too far forward. As she bounded across the pavement, the other reason for her oddly rocking gait became readily apparent; her left hind leg was too twisted and shriveled to be of any use, giving her only three good feet to stand on.
"What the…" Long whispered, blanching.
At the other end of the field, Bruiser held her head leaf high and eyed her Mamoswine opponent imperiously. "Bay bay!" she declared, stamping her front legs against the ground. The Mamoswine, for his part, looked just as surprised as his trainer.
"What are you doing?" Long shouted at Makoto. "That Pokémon…it's…it's…" He floundered for a moment, not knowing how to finish.
The young Bayleef's bright red eyes flashed in annoyance. Without waiting for a command, she opened her mouth and sent a torrent of large white seeds hurtling towards the Mamoswine. The seeds exploded against the Pokémon's massive side, causing him to roar in surprise.
"Baaaay!" Bruiser yelled, aiming another Seed Bomb in her opponent's direction. The Mamoswine attempted to dodge the attack, but stumbled. The glowing seeds smashed into his throat and sent him staggering back.
Growling angrily, the Mamoswine started towards the Bayleef. Before he could get very far, however, he wobbled unexpectedly, then toppled onto the ground with a crash. The pavement shook with the immensity of the impact, and the Bayleef struggled not to lose her footing.
"And it's an unexpected turnaround for Makoto!" the commentator cried disbelievingly. "Could it be? Yes, indeed! It looks like Long's Mamoswine was Poisoned by that Houndour's Smog attack from before, weakening it enough to go down in only two more hits! Long and Makoto are now tied one for one!"
Recalling the Mamoswine, Long lobbed a second PokéBall into the arena. This time, a willowy golden form emerged from the flare of crimson light. Static crackling along the length of her body, the new Pokémon released a braying cry that echoed throughout the stadium, then slapped her black and yellow striped tail threateningly against the ground.
"Ampharos!" the Pokémon's trainer shouted. "Use…" He hesitated as he glanced over at the Bayleef. "Uh, use…"
"Baaay!" Bruiser yelped, impulsively leaping forward. She landed squarely on her three good legs in front of the Ampharos. "Baaaay!" she yelled again, menacingly brandishing her head leaf. With another cry, she sent a flurry of razor-sharp leaves zooming towards her opponent.
Static fizzled up around the Ampharos's body, knocking the leaves aside. Growling, Bruiser launched herself into the air and, head leaf whirling wildly, shot another Razor Leaf at the Ampharos from above. The Electric Pokémon deflected the attack in the same manner as before, but made no move to retaliate.
The Bayleef fell back to the ground, panting slightly. Eyes narrowing, she began to circle the Ampharos's motionless form. Her one good leg hopped across the ground as she ran, pumping back and forth beside the shrunken stump of its useless counterpart. Her cries of confused frustration echoed throughout the stadium, which had otherwise become deathly quiet.
"Bruiser came out of her egg with several birth deformities," the boy said, idly picking at his sleeve. "It happens from time to time, even in the best breeding facilities. Usually the baby dies from complications shortly afterwards. Not Bruiser, though. She's far too bullheaded to let anything beat her without a fight."
He signed and looked aimlessly at the ceiling, where the lone light was still flickering on and off. "We both know that New Bark never had any intention of sending her out as a starter Pokémon," he said as he tucked his arms behind his head. "In fact, I don't think they knew what do with her at all. You can't get many people to adopt a Pokémon like Bruiser. No one wanted to use her in tournaments or contests. She wouldn't have even made an appealing house pet."
His lip curled into a smirk as he continued, still staring at the ceiling. "Bruiser, though, knew what she wanted to do from the start," he said with a chuckle. "She wanted to battle. That's why she found us."
"Found you?" the man echoed, brow wrinkling. "You mean the break-in…"
"That's right." The boy grinned. "It was more like a break-out. Bruiser can go to extraordinary lengths to get what she wants." Placing his elbows on the desk, he leaned forward.
"And what Bruiser wants more than anything else," he said, resting his chin over his entwined fingers, "is a fair fight."
As the Bayleef's repeated attacks continued to draw no reaction from her Ampharos opponent, Bruiser's fierce expression began to fade, leaving only bitter disappointment in its place. For a fleeting moment, the two Pokémon stared at each other, the Bayleef desperately searching for something in the Ampharos's gleaming black eyes.
Then something in Bruiser snapped. Fury surged onto her face as she barreled forward, slamming headfirst into the Ampharos's belly. As the Electric Pokémon fell onto the pavement, Bruiser lumbered over her, still seething. "Bay bay!" she snapped, slamming a foot into the ground next to the Ampharos's head. "Baaaay!"
The Ampharos made a buzzing bleat of protest, only to be smacked in the chest by one of the Bayleef's leaves. Narrowing her eyes, Bruiser gave another shriek of frustration.
Slowly, the Ampharos rose onto her hind feet. Then, nodding hesitantly, she jumped into the air.
"Ampharos!" Long cried. "What are you doing? I didn't say to…"
A crackling bolt of electricity hurtled down, and Bruiser dodged adroitly. As static raced across the pavement, the excited Bayleef sent a barrage of explosive seeds hurtling towards the Ampharos. Said seeds collided with a sparking shield, sizzling into blackened crisps.
Matching each other move for move, the two Pokémon danced around the arena, filling the air with blinding bursts of electricity and whirlwinds of seed shrapnel. The audience, as well as the trainers, could only watch speechlessly as the heated battle unfolded.
Though the Bayleef's hops had seemed awkward at first, especially in comparison to the Ampharos's fluid movements, they were surprisingly fast. Muscles straining and pumping at a dazzling speed, Bruiser's three good legs were no more than a blur. While the Bayleef's permanently droopy eye remained unseeing, its twin blazed with an excited fervor, narrowing in keen concentration each time Bruiser readied herself for another attack.
Crouching down, Bruiser sent more blasts of seeds careening towards her opponent. The Ampharos quickly launched herself into the air, narrowly avoiding the small chain of explosions that followed. Twin crackles of static forming above her striped ears, the airborne Electric Pokémon struck the Bayleef with a well-aimed Thunderbolt.
A shrill yelp shattered the air as Bruiser collapsed, flickers of static racing across her prone body. Dazed, she lay there for a moment, then groaned loudly.
"Baaaay…" Bruiser grunted, scrunching up her face. The arena cameramen zoomed in on the Bayleef's deformed body, projecting it again to the live TV screen. As Bruiser struggled to lift herself off the ground, the previous silence of the stands was broken by a scattering of applause. Gradually, the applause grew until a good portion of the spectators had risen out of their seats and started clapping.
"Baaay!" With a rush of anger, Bruiser surged onto her feet. Head jerking accusingly about, the Bayleef glared at the bewildered audience and stomped her forelegs against the pavement. "Baay bay! Baaay bay baaay!" she stormed, her enraged cries piercing the air over and over again.
Save that for when I win the match, you idiots!
Turning back to the Ampharos, Bruiser glared at her opponent, as if daring her to say anything in response. As the Ampharos shook her head worriedly and started forward with a plaintive bleat, Bruiser acted. She shot towards the other Pokémon like a bullet, screaming an earsplitting battle cry.
Tell me! What do I have to do…
Streaking lightning met a storm of exploding seeds, all twisting into a blinding tornado.
…for you to treat me like everybody else?
A slam resounded through the room as the man pounded his fists against the desk, nearly overturning it. Papers went flying in all directions, fluttering like pale butterflies into the darkness. Overhead, the bare light bulb shook and fizzled, spraying sparks against the ceiling.
"I don't have time for this!" the man snarled, the last of his pitifully small reserves of patience finally running dry. His voice fell to a deathly quiet whisper as he leaned forward. "I am going to ask you one more time," he informed the boy, lips forming a snarl as he spat out each word. "And this time, I don't want another sob story. I want an answer. Where are the Pokémon you took, you little brat?"
"No more sob stories, sir?" the boy said, that increasingly eerie smile still stretching the contours of his face. "But I've saved the very best for last."
Crouching down, he swept a glossy color photograph off the ground. Two smiling faces shone out of the picture, one belonging to a bright-eyed trainer flashing an exuberant victory sign, the other to the laughing young Pikachu perched atop his head.
"The Pikachu here's a special case," the boy said, holding the photo towards the man. "He doesn't have a name. Not one that he would tell us, at any rate."
"I warned you…" the man started in a low growl, but the boy cut him off in mid-sentence.
"He doesn't look like this anymore, though," the boy continued, indicating Pikachu's unguardedly high-spirited expression. "I've never even seen him crack a smile, come to think of it. He used to be a real champ, you know. Him and his trainer took the Pokémon League by storm way back when."
The boy's ever-present grin twisted a bit at this. "Then there was a nasty battling accident. That Pikachu ended up having to get both of the electric sacs in his cheeks removed. And that was it. Poof! His world-renowned battling career, gone just like that." The boy gave an expansive shrug. "But I guess he wasn't willing to let it end there…"
When the dust had finally cleared from the arena, surprised murmurs issued up from the stands. Covered in charred leaves, the unconscious bodies of both the Ampharos and Bayleef lay in a limp heap on the battlefield.
"I don't believe it!" the announcer cried as the scene of the two fallen Pokémon played on the TV screen. "But it looks like a double knockout, folks! Both Ampharos and Bayleef are down for the count, leaving the scored tied two to two! Both challengers must now send out their final Pokémon!"
Turning to the Pikachu, who had been tapping his tail edgily during the entire duration of the previous battles, Makoto nodded. "It's up to you," she said softly.
Jagged tail snapping out like a battle flag, the Pikachu trotted into the arena. The scars over his hollow, dully-colored cheeks drew taut as he set his jaw and braced himself for the impending fight.
A Pokémon with gleaming white fur and an ebony-hued face materialized above the other end of the field. She fell gracefully onto all fours, soundlessly scanning her surroundings with sharp crimson eyes.
"Makoto chooses Pikachu, while Long has sent out Absol!" the announcer's voice sounded overhead. "The battle between these two Pokémon will decide the winner of the match!"
At last, the Absol's gaze fell upon her diminutive opponent. Her eyes drifted first to the Pikachu's scarred, sunken cheek pouches, then to his tensed body and steady, self-possessed countenance. Slowly, the Pikachu gave the Absol a nod of acknowledgment. The Absol, in turn, inclined her head towards him, returning the somber gesture as one seasoned veteran to another.
Without another moment's delay, the two Pokémon charged headlong towards one another.
"Even though that Pikachu didn't have a name, he gave us ours, you know," the boy said, hazel brown eyes glittering in the dim light. "You know what he called us?"
"I don't…" the man started to interject.
"He called us leftovers." The boy's thin lips twitched. "It was originally that Pikachu's idea, you know. He said it wasn't stealing."
Taking the photograph, he placed one hand over each of the top corners.
"It wasn't stealing," the boy said matter-of-factly, "because we were only taking the ones that nobody wanted anymore."
A rip sounded as he tore the photo in two, separating the image of the trainer from that of the Pikachu.
"Stop it!"
Looking up as a sudden shadow fell across his chair, the boy blinked in surprise. The man was towering over him, expression contorted in shock and rage. Snatching the torn photograph from the boy's grasp, he hurriedly tried to piece it back together. His fingers fumbled across the image's glossy surface, leaving behind a mess of smudges.
"You're wrong!" the man snarled. Abandoning the ruined photo, his hands shot out to yank the boy off his seat. The child hurriedly bolted up, kicking over his chair with a metal clang. As the man moved forward, the boy stumbled back, tripping and falling knees-first onto the cement floor.
"You're wrong!" the man screamed again, his face a fearsome mask of hatred. "Why would he think that! Why would he ever think that he wasn't wanted anymore!"
Growling, the Vulpix leapt onto all fours with his teeth bared. The boy put a hasty arm in front of the Pokémon.
"The accident was my fault!" the man cried. "I'm the reason he can't battle anymore!" His voice cracked. "We were best friends," the man said softly, almost to himself. "He would've known that I would never, ever consider him useless like that!" Regaining their former strength, his words escalated into a hysterical shout. "So why did you take him away, you self-righteous brat!"
"None of us are useless!" the boy yelled back. He blanched as the man advanced, black eyes blazing in undiluted fury, hands clenching into bloodless fists.
"We all have our own challenges to overcome!" the boy kept going, despite the fear filling the eyes behind his round glasses. "Sometimes the world may say we're only leftovers! Sometimes we might believe that ourselves! Sometimes it seems like that won't ever change!"
Gasping as the man lunged forward, he squeezed his eyes shut. "If we never challenge it," the boy shouted, "it never will!"
The man was mere inches from grabbing the boy when a blinding burst of light illuminated the basement.
"Mr. Red, we've been looking all over for you!" came a voice from the top of the stairs. The figure standing there, a nervous-looking man in League attire, could only blink at the strange sight: a grown man on the verge of throttling a cringing child against the wall.
Hastily regaining his composure, the League official cleared his throat. "We've found your missing Pikachu, Mr. Red!" he informed the black-haired man hurriedly. "It's fighting in the public tournament at the stadium as we speak!"
"What?" Red yelled, momentarily forgetting about the boy as he stormed towards the stairs. "Stop the tournament at once!"
"I-I'm sorry, sir," the other man spluttered, cowering under Red's glare. "But you should really come see this."
The beginnings of a black eye darkening the left side of his face, the Pikachu fixed his gaze once more upon his opponent's panting form. Fighting for each ragged breath, the Absol sprang off the ground. Faster than the eye could follow, the Pikachu launched himself after her.
A quick succession of thuds sounded as the two Pokémon met each other in the air, exchanged glancing blows, and fell back to earth. The Pikachu skid back several yards upon impact, raising a fine cloud of dust. The Absol staggered precariously as she hit the field, but also managed to remain upright.
Again, the two fighters leapt at each other in a dizzying blur. Twisting about in midair, the Absol raked her claws against the Pikachu's scarred cheek, drawing out small beads of blood. The Pikachu retaliated by smashing his tail into the Absol's side, knocking the wind out of her body. Gasping, the Absol crashed onto the ground below, while Pikachu deftly landed on all fours. Wiping streams of blood from his face with a front paw, he eyed the other Pokémon intently.
"Pikachu!"a male voice shouted from the stands.
One of the Pikachu's black tipped ears twitched. As he involuntarily began to turn, a translucent purple aura flickered up around the Absol's claws. Snarling, she charged forward and caught the Pikachu across the side with a powerful Night Slash.
The smaller Pokémon went flying through the air. He collided head-first into the side of the arena, skull smacking loudly against the wall.
Body heaving, the Absol swayed on her feet, but managed to remain standing.
"Pikachu is unable to battle!" the announcer proclaimed after a tense minute had passed. "Victory goes to Ryan Long!"
"Pikachu!"
Shoving his way through the packed crowd of spectators, Red finally reached the bottom of stands. Without any hesitation, he vaulted into the arena, his open jacket flapping out behind him. He reached his fallen Pokémon just as the Pikachu was beginning to sit up, rubbing groggily at the back of his injured head.
"Chuu…" the rodent Pokémon groaned, wincing at the bump forming behind his ears. He stiffened, however, as he saw the black-haired man standing over him. Ignoring his former trainer, the Pikachu fell onto all fours and began trotting towards where Makoto was standing on the sidelines.
"Wait!" Red called desperately. "Please! Pikachu, I...I'm sorry."
Ear twitching again, ever so slightly, the Pikachu waited.
"I was just trying to protect you," Red whispered, bowing his head. "That's why I didn't let you battle after the accident – I was just so worried you'd get hurt again. But that never meant I thought you were useless."
With a dismissive grunt, the Pikachu kept on walking.
"But just now…" Red paused, mentally groping about for the right words. "You…well, you were pretty cool out there, you know? If I hadn't distracted you, I bet you would've won." The man's weathered face broke into a surprisingly childlike grin. "But honestly, your footwork's just as sloppy as ever! We're going to have to work on that. Your tail techniques could use a little more practice as well."
Slowly, the Pikachu turned towards the man, beady black eyes widening in surprise. Then, turning just the slightest bit wet, they crinkled into a smile.
As dusk fell upon the stadium, competitors and spectators alike filed out in massive droves, talking animatedly about the matches they'd seen that day. Long after everyone else had left, however, two figures still remained in the stands. The first, the female trainer with the long blond ponytail, sat silently next to the second, her stately Ninetales.
As a sprightly evening breeze fluttered past, nudging playfully against the dark clouds above, a soft set of footfalls sounded over the wind. Two more figures stepped onto the top of the bleachers, their forms draped in shadow. The redheaded boy with the round glasses jumped down to sit by the girl, followed closely by the young Vulpix.
"Kin," the boy said softly. "It's me, Gin. Where are the others?"
"Red took them with him. Pikachu wouldn't leave without them," the girl replied, not turning around. Through the clouds, the night's first stars were just beginning to twinkle into sight. "Though I think a certain someone might have helped in convincing him."
The boy, Gin, shrugged modestly. "You didn't go with them?"
The girl shook her head. "You and I still have a lot of work to do," she answered. "I hear there's a Slowpoke in Azalea Town who's been asking about us."
"Alright." Getting to his feet, the boy stretched his arms over his head and yawned. "It's pretty late now," he said, staring out into the shadows. "There shouldn't be many humans out, right?"
"I don't think so. We should be safe."
The boy's body disappeared in a wisp of silvery smoke. Similarly, the girl's form faded into a golden fog that was promptly whisked apart in a rush of wind. Bones creaking slightly with the effort, the Ninetales rose to her feet, followed shortly by the Vulpix.
Mouth opening in an even wider yawn, the smaller fox Pokémon bounded up the steps leading out of the stadium. Feeling about for the vibrations left in his wake, the Ninetales leapt after him, her milky white eyes, long rendered blind by illness, staring unseeingly into the night.
Note: If you've seen the Pokémon episode "Just Waiting On a Friend" (or just go look it up on Bulbapedia), you might remember that Ninetales can create convincing fake projections of humans. I've extrapolated that power to Vulpix as well, though I'm not sure if that's canonically the case. ^^;