Something of a Tragedy
Prologue - Say When
A lone soldier held his gun tightly. This was it. This is what Johto wanted. This is what war was all about, right? He stepped out of his hiding place - an overturned bench that smelled of sea spray - and aimed his gun at a frantic passerby. He wouldn't know what was coming.
And then his aim slipped. Instead of the heart, it hit the arm. The soldier cursed himself for the slip-up. The passerby screamed in pain and clutched his arm, the blood running down his limb. The boy couldn't have been older than twelve. Nevertheless the boy was just another missed target. Just another person. It didn't matter, did it?
The soldier changed guns, this time a better, more reliable rifle. He looked back to where his commander was issuing his comrades orders. Behind the commander was the endless Hoenn sea, one of the aforementioned country's pride. Soon, the soldier thought to himself, the blue sea will be red with it's own people's blood.
The soldier narrowed his eyes. The city was quiet. There was no more screams, no more gunshots. The Slateport Market was nothing more than a tragic battle scene with corpses laid across the ground. The contest hall, another pride of the city, was on fire. The beach? Stained with blood.
Johto was victorious today.
"Soledad, come on!"
The soldier turned his head, his gun cocked and his fingers pressing against the trigger. A man with long, purple hair was stumbling to the city's exit that lead to the next route.
A young woman trekked after him, her pink hair flowing down her body. She was distressed, crying, even. She looked back at the contest hall, then forward to her companion. The soldier pulled the trigger, the bullet coming in contact with her leg. The woman collapsed. The soldier smiled. Then, frowned. The man with purple hair cried out, "No!" He rushed to the woman and carried her bridal style, up the route, looking back to see if anyone was following them. The soldier aimed again at the man, then put his gun down.
The couple wouldn't live for much longer, anyway.
The scientist had worked on this project for the past six months. Hoenn wanted him to create a single vial of a disease. The perfect weapon.
For months he worked hours on end, crafting the perfect weapon. Kiss of Death, he called it. Because once the virus, or someone that has the virus, touches, or 'kisses', your skin, your heart slowly stops pumping blood and your immune system breaks down. Thus, begins the stage of death. Just one vial can kill all of Johto. Slowly, but surely, Hoenn will be victorious.
He could feel it.
Drew and May had arrived in Petalburg City two days later.
They had arrived from Slateport City, a place both of them nearly lost their lives in. It was supposed to be just a contest thing. Nothing more. Them; Drew, May, Soledad, and Harley. Competing in a contest with their pokemon; Drew with his Flygon, May with her Blaziken, Soledad with her Lapras, Harley with his Cacturne. A friendly contest, that's all. No one was supposed to get hurt, or - may Arceus forbid - get killed.
Drew was out second round. Then May. Then there was the battle between Soledad and Harley "Like old times, darling." Harley had said to Soledad before the round. "Don't count on it, Harley, I'm going to win this time." Soledad had said.
And so the round began. Lapras performed a spectacular combination of Sheer Cold and Water Pulse, where it glowed with a magnificent hue of light blue, a ball of water coming from it's mouth at the same time. Cacturne staggered for minute after taking the hit, but it proved to be the stronger pokemon, as it held on. The grass/dark type pokemon retaliated with Bullet Seed and an Energy Ball combination.
"Lapras is unable to battle! Cacturne—"
That's when the soldiers started firing. They remembered seeing Harley and Soledad fleeing the contest hall, but the chaos inside... it was unbearable. The two were lucky to get out. Others, not so much. Drew had witnessed a boy around his age get shot by a soldier. May had saw a pair of lovers die by the hands of a soldier with a gun.
It would be safe, at Petalburg. They would be together; Norman, Caroline, May, Drew, and—
—Not Max. He ran away as soon as he heard of the shooting - that terrible day at Slateport - thinking that May had died.
"I promise we'll find him, May," Drew had told her the night they arrived. She was sobbing, tears running down her face. Drew held her that night.
"You promise?" She had asked him through tears. He nodded.
The next day, the two of them set off in search of the boy.
Harley set down the crying Soledad at the end of the route, just before the water's edge that connected Route 110 to 103. "You okay?" He asked, ripping a piece of his green shirt to tie around his friend's wound. Soledad cried out in pain, the green fabric staining red. Harley muttered, "I'm sorry," before taking the pinkette's pokeball that she was holding - Lapras - and released the plesiosaur-like pokemon. It yawned, then screeched at its owner in a worried manner. Harley petted the Lapras's head, calming it down, "Shh, Soledad's hurt. We need you to surf across this body of water." It nodded, then jumped into to stretch of water.
Harley picked her up again and walked to the Lapras. He then set her down on its shell carefully, so that he didn't hurt her anymore. Harley bent down to comfort the crying Soledad. He smiled weakly, then stroked her hair, "You're gonna be okay, honey. We'll be together, all the time, 'kay?" Soledad nodded, wincing. Harley stared off into the west. What was going on?
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