Hello! You're now reading the story that earned me my reputation. My writing style has improved quite a lot since that time, but I've left this mostly unchanged. In case anyone is wondering, and in case anyone reads my ongoing story Visions Of Fate, the Kirlia in this story is Selena. Her name isn't spoken in it, though.

If You Ever Care -A One-Shot

I am in agony. My heart is being snatched from my chest, my body rent into a thousand pieces. Maybe I am screaming, but if I am I can't hear myself.

Suddenly it stops. I lie, panting, on a cold stone floor. For a moment I am disoriented, the moment of amnesia caused by the force of the Shadow Claw attack scrambling my senses. I lever myself up on my hand and knees, feeling bolts of agony course through my body, my limbs trembling as they strain to support me.

I hear yelling. You are yelling at me. It all comes back; I am trying to win you the title of Sinnoh Champion. I struggle to my feet, my body still aching from the attack. As I stare at my opponent, an enormous purple Pokemon that resembles a hot-air balloon, my mind is flooded with the memories of the battles which brought me this far. I remember facing off against the enormous Drapion, a monstrous scorpion which favours Poison attacks and came close to killing me in its horrible claws. I remember the second arena, where I struggled to cling to consciousness, firing off burst after burst of glittering emerald leaves at the advancing opponents. Finally I have reached the third, but I fear that I cannot last much longer.

I see the enormous balloon-like creature coming for me again and raise my arms, gathering electrical energy. As the Drifblim approaches I aim a Thunderbolt attack at it; this was not one I learned naturally, but one you forced me to learn. Still, I am now grateful for it. The huge Pokemon recoils, shaking with the charge.

"Stupid Kirlia!" you yell. "I said use Psychic, not Thunderbolt!"

I berate myself for not listening to you. For a moment I only thought about not letting this monster touch me again. I aim a blast of psychic power but Drifblim is barely stunned. It comes for me again and I use my secret weapon: Teleport.

The presence of the Drifblim – so very nearly a Dark type – throws off my teleportation skills. Somehow I end up in the air above it. I struggle to stay airborne; it has not noticed me. You are screaming at me again. "I didn't tell you to do that! What good are you if you won't listen?"

But what is a trainer without his Pokemon? You would never have gotten this far. I did all I could to please you, except for one single thing. I refused to evolve for you.

My concentration slips and I fall, landing on top of Drifblim. It feels unusually like a hot-air balloon. I quickly leap off it, but it catches me in midair with a Shadow Claw attack. The air explodes with my screams and I fall to the floor, unconscious.

I wake in the Pokemon Center. Of course, it was not your choice to bring me here. You are not doing as the other trainers do and sitting by your Pokemon's bedside. Instead, you are standing at the door, staring languidly into the hallway. You have probably just regained consciousness yourself. Why did you only raise one Pokemon? If I was not the only one you could have won.

I hesitantly flex my slim green legs and brush back lime-green hair with my pale hands. My garnet eyes watch your stiff back. You feel my gaze - I can read it in your mind - but still you don't turn around. With a sigh, I turn my gaze to the ceiling and stare blankly at the fluorescent lights.

You storm to my bedside. "Why did you lose?" you rage at me. "If you evolved you could've won! Why won't you evolve? You're strong enough to do it! I wish I'd caught a male so I could evolve it into Gallade, but I'm stuck with you." Furious, you overturn a table and stomp out of the Pokemon Center.

Tears sting my eyes but I force them away. In all the time you have owned me I haven't cried once and I won't start now. It was silly of me to imagine that you might have been just a little worried about me. All you care about, all you have ever cared about, is winning a name for yourself. When you were a beginner and I was a Ralts you treated me a bit better, but after you won your first badge you didn't care about me any more.

Have you ever cared? I turn my head and see all of the beds in a neat row. Each one holding a Pokemon has a trainer sitting beside it. I would give anything to have a trainer who cared about me like those ones do.

You would have made me evolve into Gallade long ago if I was male. I know it, have known it for quite a while. You want me to evolve so I can be stronger and beat more opponents and get you more prize money. There's more to being a trainer than winning battles and collecting money from the people you batter down from their dreams along the way. Most trainers and their Pokemon share a bond of love and trust. You sneer on such things. You believe they're for the weaklings and the bleeding hearts.

As long as you treat me the way you do, I will never evolve. It's a reward for treating me well and you don't deserve it. Your contempt for me is stronger than any Everstone. Maybe, one day, if you ever decide that I'm worth more than the dirt you walk on… maybe then I will decide to evolve for you.

I drift into sleep and wake to find a figure by my side, holding my hand. I think for a moment that it is you. The dream image fades away before I can say anything. It was just my imagination, a product of my desire for you to like me.

Footsteps approach me. I turn my head. It is you, glancing around at the last trainers leaving to let their Pokemon sleep. You are the last; it is nearly dusk.

In your fist you hold my Poke Ball. I dread seeing that button pointed at me and I pull the blanket up over my head, but you just rip it from my grasp. The beam of red light hits me and I moan in anguish as I am sucked back into the dark abyss.

I hover, undefined, amorphous, waiting for you to let me out again, even if it means I have to fight once more. As much as I hate to fight, I hate being trapped in my ball even more.

Minutes fade into hours, hours into days, days into months. I don't know how long I have been trapped here. When I finally feel the movement around me I prepare for release. In a burst of white light I take form. Immediately I realize I am ravenous; I must've been in there for a long time.

I am facing a green-skinned dinosaur; a Grass type, as I can tell from the plant bloom on its back. This should be an easy fight. I am glad to feel the breeze on my skin again. The sun is shining and I would much rather make friends with Ivysaur than battle it, but I have to do what you tell me.

"Psychic!" you command. Your voice is deeper and I glance over my shoulder, making sure it really is you commanding me. My hesitation gives the Ivysaur time to open its flower, gathering light to attack.

"Attack it, stupid!"

Yes, it's definitely you, even though you've grown the beginnings of a beard and look an inch or so taller. I prepare to attack Ivysaur and a beam of light slams into me. It used Solarbeam. A special attack; I should be able to cope. I stagger to my feet but the other trainer hasn't even hesitated.

"Sludge Bomb!"

I'm a bit rusty at attacking; it's been months since you last released me. I once again begin to gather my psychic power to attack. One hit and it should all be over…

A ball of foul-smelling sludge slams into me. I reel back, weakened. Another special attack, a bit easier for me to deal with than physical attacks, but this time I have trouble recovering. Some of the sludge has gotten into my mouth and I'm poisoned.

"Finish it off!" the other trainer orders. "Skull Bash!"

Skull Bash? That's an attack that can only be learned through breeding. It's also a physical attack and in my weakened state I won't be able to cope. Luckily it takes a while to get ready to use the attack.

I stumble, unsteady on my feet. The poison is slowly but steadily eating away at my strength. I focus my psychic power and the air distorts, sending Ivysaur reeling back. But I've misjudged my opponent, one of the biggest mistakes that I could possibly make. Ivysaur is a much higher level than me and easily withstands the psychic blast. It charges and I try to teleport out of the way, but it slams into me. I hit the ground at your feet.

You look down at me, the contempt in your eyes obvious. I try to find the strength to apologize. You kick at me angrily. "Get up, idiot! You're still awake! Get up and fight!"

I don't have the strength. My eyelids flutter and close and I wait for the poison to sap the last of my strength. You kick at me again and growl in frustration.

"I'll be back for you in a few hours," you snap, walking away.

The other trainer approaches me. He seems more caring; his Ivysaur certainly seems to like him. I gaze wearily at the boy. He's younger than you, but he reminds me of you a lot. You looked like him when you first started your journey. I don't mean you look like him in appearance; it's the expression in his eyes. He takes a small spray from his bag and sprays a fine mist over my body. It feels very soothing and I feel it drawing the poison out of my body.

The boy doesn't say anything else, but waits until he knows the Antidote has worked and walks away. I gaze after him, wishing he had been my trainer instead of you. Of course, there's always a chance that he'll end up like you, bloated on victory, treating his Ivysaur badly and leaving it to die like you tried to do to me. I don't care, though. I would give anything to once again have a trainer who cares for me, even if only for a few days.

There's nothing more I can do but wait for you to return for me. I know there is only the tiniest bit of goodness left in your heart, but that is enough. You insist, even to yourself, that you keep me because you know my attacks are strong and you can win with me. Secretly, though, it's because deep inside you that beginning trainer still exists, the boy who wants to treat his Pokemon well so they will want to win as much as he does. Because I know this, I know you will return for me.

And if you ever care, if that young boy ever surfaces in you again, I will be ready to forgive you.