Whenever he looked back, Cheren, in all his hot headedness, would always term it "eloping". He had seen it all - when Touya leaped onto his Reshiram in pursuit of the enigmatic N. Cheren was reclusive; his heart barricaded with shards of ice and walls of steel. So when his heart twisted in a way he could not understand as he watched his friend depart, he was furious for the weakness the feeling implied on his persona.
It wasn't that he couldn't feel. He could. The basic of them all was pain when he scratched himself, pride when he won, anger when he lost a battle and jealousy when Touya clinched it all – all being his dreams and goals. It had been quite a while since he had file away his feelings; after all, they only slowed him down and got in his way. He wasn't a snob by nature or a stuck up brat; all he ever wanted was to rise above all. He cared for his friends in his own disjointed way; he was there to lend support when needed. But there's one thing he'd always dreamed of having alone, something he could always imagine himself bearing. The Championship title.
You see, he didn't just want to be another person. He wanted to be someone who was recognized far and wide. Such was his ego and his pride.
It had taken a few years for Cheren to realize he loved Touya. More so than just friends. It boiled his blood and bursted his veins to see that Touya could gain anything and everything he wanted with his aloof attitude and strange brand of bullheadedness. His emotions were in constant conflicts when he saw Touya climb up the ranks; after all, was it possible to hate and love the same person so much?
But when Touya took off, Cheren's mind frayed. He locked everything else he felt in that steel cage of a heart, and it only served to prove why he hated people so much. Well no, not really. Sure he hated false company, and he hated the cluster roads of big cities ( Castelia was never his favourite place), but that was merely because people were so hard to understand. They did things that never went by the book, unlike the quantum of Physics or pokemon battles. They do things that make you mad, hysterical. They do things that leave you confused. Broken.
He became empty and serene. Nothing could unfaze the blankness that clouded his mind. Of course he channeled all his free time into the things he knew best, like studying and training. If anything, he filled the void with the need to level with Touya. He needed to become the Champion. Day in and out he trained, cooped up wherever he could. As long as it wasn't home, it was fine. He couldn't return home yet, no, he couldn't face the people there. His pride was still too big to swallow.
The battles bored him to no end. Trainers who took him on were weak and held out for no longer than 5 minutes. It was a shame but it was something to train on. Momentum took him in, catapulting his power to new heights. It felt good, and for the first time in a long time, he saw brightness in his future.
When his victory came though, it was nothing like he expected. Victory fell into his hands almost effortlessly. It was the prize of all his vigorous training, his rituals of studying, burning midnight oils. And for the first time, he thought he felt happy. Triumphant. Alder had congratulated him saying that Cheren had finally did it, and that he had changed.
Cheren had indeed changed. For better or for worse though, he couldn't quite tell. Maybe it was a good thing.
Maybe.
Bianca hadn't known what to think when Cheren's mother had called her in. The poor mother of the boy had been a wretched state, saying that Cheren had neither called nor written since his victory at the Elite Four. In fact, he hadn't even turned up at Nuvema after his victory. Everyone had been waiting to congratulate him there. Everyone except, of course, Touya.
On request by Cheren's saintly mother, Bianca took off to the skies looking for her friend. She found her friend in the most unexpected place. In the bustling streets of Castelia City, there was a single person who refused to move from his place despite the shoves and curses. Cheren was an unmovable block in the sea of people.
Bianca had tackled him with a great bear hug. She does a quick scan of her friend with an analytical eye before embracing him again. She could tell something was not quite the same – years of friendship does that. She could read him like a book; only she hardly ever read books.
Cheren was taken by surprise, no doubt. He trembled a bit, overcome by a sudden wave of emotion that battled at the locks of his heart. He smiled meekly when Bianca gave a rushed congratulation of his victory that seemed so long ago. Then she hammered him with questions. Why didn't you come back to Nuvema? What are you doing here? I thought you hated the busy streets?
Cheren's reply had caught her off guard. He wasn't the same as he was before. His eyes no longer burned with the desire and passion to strive. His journey had done a lot to his virtuoso characteristics.
He needed a place, he had said, where he wouldn't stand out. Where he'd be just another face in the crowd. For once, he just wanted to be another person in the sea of faces. For once, he wanted to be nobody. Unrecognizable, invisible, inscrutable nobody.
He scared her.
Growing panicky, Bianca hauled her friend over to the pathetic little café that hid in the dark alleys. She remembered the path clearly; the signature dumpsters and the shady snickering men nearby were markers. All was same as ever would be.
She ordered tea, coffee; anything off the menu that she thought had healing abilities. The tea came first in a cute little blue china cup decorated with even littler details that embroidered the rim. The steam curled upwards as it slowly diffused into the atmosphere in an odd whirl and the smell of the tea was brilliant. She watched as Cheren observed the little tableware before his eyes shifted to the empty porcelain bowl that was supposed to hold fine and firm cubes of sugar.
Empty, he said.
Bianca couldn't understand. Cheren's sentences were clear-cut and elusive. They made no sense. Then as she leveled her eyes to Cheren's, she realized a void that was never there before. The victory, he said, made him feel empty.
In all honesty, Cheren felt exuberant from his win. For a while, he was truly happy. The emptiness had only struck him on his way back to Nuvema, when he decided to take off in another direction. The victory, as he had said, suddenly felt like another cold shard stuck in his hardened soul. It wasn't because the win was easy – the victory might have been but the rigor before it was ridiculously tenuous. No, it was because the victory became pointless.
What was he trying to match up to? What was the point of all this? He had been so sure that it was to mete out with Touya, but where was Touya now? Wasn't he competing with someone so distant and far to the point where it no longer mattered? And while he had just conquered his first Elite Four, how many had Touya stumped in the other regions?
In an act of reexamining himself, Cheren realized he had lost it all. His purpose, his passion, his friend, his love. He didn't know what more to do with himself; the journey ahead was simply empty. So, what now?
His penchant for battling ended with that one victory which inadvertently led to his downfall. His pokeballs were stuffed away in his bag and never to be touched. Each passing day wasted and rotted away, opportunities whisked away as soon as they were proffered. According to him, his passion had withered. Disintegrated.
The slap was unexpected and it stung his cheek with a sheer bitterness that made his head spin. Bianca was rarely angry, and this time, she scared him. Pick them up, she cried, fight with me.
And that's what they did. A battle between the two in Castelia's sewers. Bianca fell within seconds, her Musharna barely holding out. But it was enough. A smile graced Cheren's lips as he toyed with the little contraption that housed his dear Liepard. He saw a flicker of hope as a first tear fell. Maybe it was time to be someone again.
The next few months passed in a whirr. Taking up apprenticeship under Lenora, he was given the opportunity to succeed her in a new gym in Aspertia. Unbeknownst to him, his heart began to thaw, and light filtered into his soul. For the first time, Cheren saw the world as it is.
His ambition rekindled and this time, he was on a kamikaze mission to get things right. Every time he allowed his thoughts to wander though, his mind became shrouded with thoughts of Touya. He knew he still loved that fool, even if his feelings were unrequited. But it was okay, he supposed. You can't be 'someone' to everyone; sometimes, you're just another' somebody'.
His pokemon were stowed away – he still took them out but only when time permitted – and were replaced with three new weaker ones. Ok, extremely weaker ones. He tried not to be critical of them, but it was a painful experience having to raise them from scratch again. These, Lenora had said, are your friends for your gym. It was a good thing he toned down on his sarcastic comments, because it was one thing to be snarky to your friends and another to be snarky to someone who was offering you a prospective job. But sometimes, old habits die hard, and he couldn't hold his tongue fast enough when he muttered, "Have mercy."
His life slowly came back to material. Busying himself with superfluous tasks issued forth by Lenora ( Quick, get me ten potions from the mart!), he began to return to the social living. But never once did he return to Nuvema.
Not until three years since his departure for his journey. He stayed for days at Nuvema; apologizing, catching up, talking. He was alive once again. Then one fateful day, a teen in a blue jacket and a tattered hat walked into town. Cheren had been out at the fields, his tie smartened up with his clip and book in hand as he watched his pokemon (including the additional pathetic trio – he was sorry but they were so weak) frolic in the grass. When Cheren looked up, he could recognize the person right away.
Touya.
"Hey," Touya had said quietly as he offered Cheren one of his subdued smiles.
Cheren could only blink, willing the mirage to dissipate immediately. But Touya stood there, strong and firm.
"You've changed," Touya had added nervously.
"No one can stay young forever. Welcome home," Cheren said. And that was all it took to reduce Touya to tears.
Maybe Cheren wasn't just somebody for Touya. Maybe he was somebody, a special someone. Maybe.
Maybe.
A/N: I love Cheren! ^q^ This is my first pokemon fanfiction so it Cheren might be very OOC. Or was it OCC? Meh, can't rmb :( Well i hope you enjoy this oneshot (: Please review if you can :3