The young boy glared at his own reflection and the world surrounding it. Go on, his five-year-old fury encouraging him. Punch it. Rip it up. Smash it to pieces. Then sit back and think about rainbows.
He was never really an extrovert. Come to think of it, he hardly was. He was the type of person who would take part in the party games and do nothing more. He was the type who would watch silently when the sky fell, without flapping his arms about like a crazed chicken or bursting onto the streets and screaming "Arceus help me". He wasn't a wallflower, though. That was clear. He had friends – just not many.
That wasn't what bothered him at the moment, though being alone had something to do with it. Being alone always did. Solitariness meant loneliness, exhaustion and confinement to intriguing but ultimately useless thoughts, like these.
Deciding then that he didn't want to waste another second of thought on this cruel, unfair planet, the boy launched himself into bed and willed himself into the world of dreams. That never worked, of course, but it was nice to think that someday – someday – scientists would invent a machine that sent its user into a world of his/her choice. Until then, he could only bear with the relentless teasing of his stupid bullies. Dream on, they would laugh. Pun intended.
This time, however, his wish seemed to have come true.
Upon descending upon the soft relief of sleep, the boy found himself being hurled downwards at breakneck speed – literally. He knew, though, that he would break more than just his neck if he'd ever touched the ground. Which, with a mixture of amazement, confusion and relief, he realised he'd already did. He was sprawled onto a carpet of lush green grass in what seemed to be an endless field of poppies. He quickly crawled to his knees and looked around, sighting a smoking volcano in the distance as the only thing besides plants. It looked like it was going to erupt soon, but that would be the least of his worries if he didn't start discovering the locations of food, drink and wherever the heck he was.
"Where am I?" The boy wondered aloud, a little fearfully. It was a completely unfamiliar place even after he searched his memories twice, and no one – or nothing – he knew was in his immediate surroundings. He was about to attempt memory-recovering for the third time when a large creature materialised in front of him, seemingly out of thin air.
More than twice his size, it looked to be clad from head to toe in tightly-fit, heat-worn steel, with spots the colour of forest fires. It stared at the boy coolly with large, orange eyes, as if trying to access his appearance and abilities in a glance. It said nothing whilst it did so, leaving a deafening silence that roared louder as the seconds ticked by. A competition, a meaningful one, quickly emerged as the two beings exchanged studying glares. The boy felt his own eyebrows furrowing in concentration, curiosity and an uncanny realisation that he was, eventually, going to win.
Sure enough, the creature looked away within just a few moments, seemingly satisfied with the knowledge it'd acquired. "Interesting," it muttered to itself. "You're someone who cares for the weak despite being very strong yourself. You're not unfamiliar with this power, but you don't utilise it much because your conscience tells you not to. You also stand up for the beliefs of those around you, accepting them as your own even if they don't click perfectly with your way of thinking. Furthermore, you…"
"You discovered all that about me?" The boy couldn't help interrupting as his jaw dropped in amazement. "Rather sounds like you won the battle," he chuckled, admitting defeat as he knew he deserved it. After all, all he'd taken in in that one minute was that the creature was large, clever and competitive – clearly observations on the surface, as compared to the creature's… detailed report on his personality.
The creature wasn't bothered by him, however, continuing its analysis as if the boy hadn't spoken. "…take life as a pill, swallowing its highs and lows with a gulp of forgetfulness. You, furthermore, pay attention to things that have little relevance to you, believing that their importance would come soon enough. A silly thing to do, of course, considering how little this pays off. Worse is your habit of building towers out of cards, naming each one after an abstract concept and enjoying the satisfaction of knocking them over all at once. How stupid."
The boy stared in shock. "But… that's just my opinion of things. I –"
"…you're dumb enough to believe that all teachers hate each other, rejecting the current state of the world as if it were a spoilt present from your great uncle. And what were you thinking, overturning that saucer of milk in your rampage against cats? There are things worse in the world than paw prints the size of your ego!"
"Stop it!" yelled the boy, covering his hands over his ears. "You can make fun of me, but I don't care. Sometimes things are out of order, and I want to fix them. Other times my imagination runs wild. Maybe that's the way it is!" He threw his hands up in exaggeration, barely noticing that the creature had stopped talking and was clinging on to every word he said. "Maybe that's how I'll grow up to be. But I don't care. I just wish I had a little more… attention. Because I know that if I felt like it I could be as good as everyone else, if I wanted to. It isn't my fault that I am such an outcast, cast aside like a broken doll every time the world gets sick of me."
"And do you really think you are one?" The creature asked quietly, finally turning back around to fix the boy with a gaze that communicated nothing but respect.
It was the boy, this time, who was lost in his own thoughts. He thought about the experiences he'd had in the corridor. He thought about the experiences he'd had in his room. And he knew his answer, though it was not a pleasant one. "Yes," he replied, staring at the ground sadly. "I wish I could say no, but I'd be lying then." He looked back at the creature and found only two kind eyes. It was not a competition then, he knew. It was a moment he would cherish for all his life. The creature seemed to reach the same conclusion, nodding its head subtly.
"You interest me," it mused, confirming the boy's assertions. "Yes. I've decided. The question is, have you?"
The boy hesitated. "I… I don't know. How can I…"
"Drake!" The creature barked. "Make your decision. There is no such thing as a tie."
Once again, the boy looked deep inside himself and found his answer. He nodded firmly.
"Good. I'll see you in the future."
With that, the creature vanished. And though he himself didn't notice it, so did Drake.