"You want a rematch?!"
I stare at him incredulously. The tournament has only just ended, but he's obviously been waiting for me to pass by on my way home. Has he been waiting since that first match? I haven't seen him around Indigo Plateau since then...
He nods curtly, his dark eyes boring into mine with remarkable intensity, demanding an answer. Slowly, I incline my head in agreement.
"Alright," I say, and with a sweep of his arm he gestures me off the road. I follow his direction, hyper-aware of his eyes on the back of my neck as we push our way through the undergrowth of the forest. "Where are we going?"
He doesn't answer, his continued silence disturbing me. I glance back over my shoulder briefly, to see his face totally expressionless. Only his eyes show any hint of emotion, smouldering embers that seethe with the fiery intent he suppresses within him.
Was his loss so painful to him? I've never before been the object of such a tide of tumultuous emotions - and I find myself fearing that he will drown me in them, dragging me down into their depths alongside him.
My heart is racing; I steady my breathing in an attempt to calm its rapid pace, with limited success. It is with no small relief I step through one last set of bushes into a small, circular clearing. Sunlight filters down through the canopy, bathing the area in a soft greenish-golden glow. It seems peaceful at first glance, but as I look closer I can see the scars left by harsh flames - the type of attack his windie fought with.
I turn back to face him, not terribly surprised to see the grim smirk his lips now bear.
"I've been training," is all he says, then moves into position opposite me.
For perhaps the first time in my life, I truly don't wish to battle. Yet I don't believe he will let me go without one. I was nervous when I first stepped into the main arena at Indigo Plateau, but that anxiety is as nothing compared to the fear that grips me now. I can sense the significance of this battle in every cell of my body, but I don't understand why.
Why am I doing this? This doesn't feel right - it's like I'm walking a tightrope above a pit filled with knives, and no one to catch me if I fall -
His eyes.
In his eyes I can see the agony I dread, the knives being twisted into his body causing him unrelenting pain. He has already fallen from the tightrope - and I was the one who let him fall.
I let him fall.
And now...
Do I have to do it again?
My fingers twitch by my side as I wait for him to start. He stands deathly still, his gaze unblinking and inescapable.
I can't stand it any longer.
My hand settles around a pokeball; with a flick of my wrist I send it spinning out into the air between us, my onisuzume flying free from it's confinement. My choice is made.
He smiles in a way that doesn't touch his eyes as he responds with his own chosen pokeball. I blink at the nyorozo that emerges, but direct my onisuzume at it nevertheless. His 'smile' widens, and I realise my mistake as the nyorozo begins its hypnosis attack. My onisuzume is easily knocked out of its flailing dive, crashing to the ground a short distance away. I frown, biting my lip as I recall it.
A hint of emotion is now evident in his demeanour - satisfaction prevailing amongst other, less benign sentiments. I close my eyes briefly, breathing deeply before choosing my next pokemon.
Butterfree flies free as its name implies, raining more sleep powder down upon nyorozo than it can wash off in time. I have no time to be relieved, however, as his windie swiftly replaces the sleeping nyozoro. The windie matches butterfree's speed over and over again as they circle the clearing, adding still more fire-scars to those already inflicted upon this once idyllic place. Despite my urging, butterfree simply can't keep it up. I recall it just as the windie's flames threaten to singe its wings.
"Go, Leon," I whisper as I fling the pokeball forward. It doesn't even hit the ground before he recalls his windie, sending a replacement almost simultaneously.
Fushigisou.
I inhale sharply, and he smirks once more as he hears my reaction. He must have seen my last match. I glare at him across the glade. He is unrepentant.
I clench my fists, vowing to myself that this time will be different, even as the fushigisou starts to charge, its vine whips lashing out towards Leon.
This time, however, Leon is prepared for the strike.
I have to shield my eyes with my forearm from the bright light that accompanies the voltage surge that Leon directs down the fushigisou's vines. He maintains his effort for several long seconds before dropping to the ground along with his rival, then pushing himself shakily to his feet again.
The fushigisou stays down.
I sink to my knees beside Leon, grateful that he is alright, if somewhat tired. Slowly, I lift my gaze to meet that of my challenger. He hasn't moved at all, simply staring at me blankly.
His eyes...
I've let him fall. Again.
Standing, I recall Leon into his pokeball, giving him a chance to rest. Hesitantly, I cross the remaining ground between myself and my challenger. Picking up his empty pokeball, I recall fushigisou, presenting it to him. Dark eyes follow my every move, but still he fails to react.
"Aren't you going to take it?" I demand at last. "It is your pokemon!"
Finally he moves - but unexpectedly. He slips his belt from around his waist, his remaining pokeballs still attached to the buckles, and drapes it over my arm before turning around and heading off into nowhere. I gape after him in momentary disbelief before stumbling forward to grab his arm.
"Where do you think you're going?!"
"What does it matter?" The mere sound of his voice is almost as shocking as his actions.
"What does it matter?" I repeat, lost for words. He looks back at me over his shoulder - and the dead quality of his eyes sends shivers down my spine.
"Exactly."
That single word encompasses a lifetime's worth of pain.
I never want to hear it spoken in such a way again.
"Of course it matters!" I burst out, stunning him into a temporary halt. "You can't just walk off and leave everything behind! Don't you think your friends and family will miss you?"
I can see 'no' written plainly in his expression, and hastily move on. I know what it's like to be completely alone in the world, and there is little anyone can do to relieve that sore.
"What about your pokemon?" I persist. "You care about them, don't you?"
His eyes flickered briefly to his belt in my hand, but his words denied his need, their need. "They deserve better than me."
I almost let him slip out of my sight before dashing after him, spinning him around and knocking him to the ground beneath me. I press his shoulders against the ground, but he makes no move to protest my treatment of him.
"You're just giving everything away after just one loss?"
"Two," he corrects pedantically, staring up past my head.
"I thought you were better than that! Satoshi told me you were better than that!"
He winces a little at Satoshi's name, before twisting his lips into a parody of a smile. "Satoshi is wrong. He's just too much of an idiot to see it."
"Huh?"
"He could have beaten you."
It isn't a question. I nod anyway. It's true enough.
"I can't beat you."
I don't understand. I don't understand at all. "So? Maybe you will next time!"
He shakes his head in the negative, even as I frown at him in puzzlement. I shift my weight, rolling off him to the ground by his side. He remains as he is, unmoving.
He's the complete opposite of Satoshi, I realise as I observe him stretched out on the grass. He lies still where Satoshi would squirm, he's tense where Satoshi is relaxed - and lets go where Satoshi would hang on with every last ounce of his strength...
I blink as I see the dark eyes gazing accusingly at me. I've been thinking aloud.
This time I'm the one who turns away, looking out into the forest for a moment before lying flat on my back beside him, my head adjacent to his as I stare up at the green canopy above us.
"This isn't about me at all, is it? It's Satoshi you want to beat."
He's quiet for so long that I don't think he will answer - but he does.
"I just can't lose to him." The words are faint, but I hear them clearly through the afternoon air.
"Why not?" I ask. "It isn't like you'd never get another chance, after you've trained - "
"And he won't be training?" he snorts, interrupting me. "I was better than him to start with, but he's trained more effectively than I have. I won't catch up unless he stops, and he never will. Would you?"
"Of course not!" I reply, turning my head to face him. "But the reason he trained so hard is because of you! He told me that he was always trying to catch up with you, so that when you finally battled he'd be ale to beat you - "
"And once he does he'll forget all about me."
"Satoshi isn't like that!" I push myself into a sitting position, glaring down at him. He smiles mirthlessly up at me.
"Then why didn't he even notice I existed until we left on our pokemon journeys, and I was finally better than him at something?"
I don't know what to say. He closes his eyes, moving his arms up to cradle his head. At first glance he looks as though he's resting peacefully, but I can see the unhappy lines forming creases near his mouth and eyes.
"Masara isn't exactly a big town, you know. I've known Satoshi all my life. Everyone in Masara knows him. As a kid he could make friends with anyone he wanted to, even that old lady whose window he broke while kicking a ball around..." His dark eyes open and the smirk is back again. "The only time people ever knew me was when my grandfather was around and they wanted to get into his good books. Never worked, though."
I nod slowly. I know how it feels to be ignored, if unintentionally. I sometimes wonder if anyone back home even knows I've gone - they never paid much attention to me when I was around. I can understand it a bit, since our family was so big, but that doesn't mean I liked the way things were.
"I used to hate Ojiisan for that," he continues. "I'd pull all sorts of pranks on him and his pokemon. I didn't want to have anything to do with either, until Satoshi started talking about it at school. Turned out I knew more about pokemon than he did."
"So you set out to be a better trainer than him."
"And I was." He sits up and starts brushing bits of grass from his clothes. "Only now he's seen me mess up three times. If I can't beat him now he'll go back to thinking that..."
He leaves the rest of his sentence unsaid, but his eyes state crystal clear just how he feels.
"Thanks for listening." He smiles the first real smile I can remember seeing from him and places one hand on the grass to push himself up - but I clasp his hand in my own as he stands, preventing him from leaving once more.
"You know," I speak slowly, and he looks at me curiously as I hold out his belt with my other hand, "I train better when I have someone in mind that I'm trying to beat." He blinks at the sight of his pokeballs, but doesn't reach out for them. "And better still when I have someone to train with."
He stares at me for several long seconds, and I can feel my hope fading fast.
"Sorry," I mutter, trying not to let him see my disappointment, but a small sigh escapes as I let go of his hand -
- and he catches it in his own, pulling me to my feet.
"Don't be sorry until you've tasted my cooking," he grins, and I find myself smiling in response.
[Storytime][Fanfics][rhionae@hotmail.com]