Chapter 1: Our Everyday Lives
She remembered fire. She remembered smoke and sweltering heat.
She remembered waiting for what felt like years in her child's mind for something to make it all go away.
She didn't remember pain. They often told her that she probably wouldn't, but she still found that strange. Of anything else, she should probably remember pain, shouldn't she?
But she didn't. She only remembered hopelessness, desperation, and wondering when it would end. The smoke was so thick that she could scarcely see anything. The roaring inferno was so loud that she could scarcely hear anything. Wood crackled and ignited inches from her face, and she turned and turned hoping for relief. But the flames were oppressive, they weighed down relentlessly and sucked everything out of her. Her consciousness faded in and out in depressingly repetitive cycles, where nothing changed and she continued to die anew every few minutes…She was overwhelmed with the certainty that here, and now, she would die.
But Makala didn't die that night, though she would spend many years after wishing that she had. Her disjointed memories of that long and torturous hour within the crumbling warehouse told her that eventually, yes, they did put out the blaze. And yes, eventually they did find her. But she knew well then, even as nine-year-old child, that there were parts of her that would forever be lost to that fire.
June 1st, 2010
Celadon City, Kanto
Makala woke with a start, shooting straight up in bed. Her heart was pounding a painful tattoo against her ribs and God, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe. She leapt out of bed without thinking and her vision began to tunnel. Her legs were still tangled in her bed sheets and she tripped, crashing headfirst into her dresser.
Halo yelped in surprise as she landed on top of him. The large Mightyena crawled out from underneath her and stared down at the girl with wide, red eyes, as though asking "What is it, what's happened?!" He sniffed her warily and gave a tentative lick to her face.
Makala was not easily frightened. In fact, people had often said that she owned a bravery bordering on stupidity. But on those rare occasions that her heart beat so fast that she thought it was going to burst from her chest, her first inclination was to run far and fast and to never look back. But there was nothing to run from in this case. Her room was the same. Halo was the same. All of Makala's troubles were inside of her head.
She pressed a hand to her forehead and she could already feel a hard, painful bump forming. She searched among the bed sheets for her alarm clock, which had been knocked off the dresser in her panic.
"2:30 AM," she said. "Right on time."
Halo whined.
Makala rose slowly, her leg on fire, and steadied herself on the edge of her dresser. The lights from the city filtered in through her bedroom window, catching the hollows of her face and her body in a cool blue glow. She was slender but sturdy, built like her mother used to be before city life had made her slow and complacent. But not Makala. She was constantly on the go, built for running and climbing and pushing her body until it could go no farther.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her mother had been an island girl, and she had given Makala her tan complexion and innocently rounded face. She'd also given her eyes the color of the sea-glass that sometimes washed ashore of the beaches of her home town. They caught blue in certain lighting, green in others, and were perpetually wide and alert not unlike those of watchdog.
But her hair was her fathers, thick and black and hanging straight down to her shoulders. She sported messy bangs, which she trimmed herself (not always well). She hadn't seen her father in many years now. He sent her a monthly allowance, on top of the child support, but wasn't much more than a shadow in the corner of her mind.
Makala looked to the corner of the mirror where a tiny photograph was taped. There was an adolescent boy in the photo carrying a small, chubby baby. Both had matching dark hair and blue eyes.
Whenever she saw that photo, Makala felt like someone was scraping her insides out with a rusty spoon. Why did she keep that stupid photo there in the first place? I'm a masochist I guess, she thought to herself. Or maybe she was just optimist, stubbornly holding onto dreams in the hopes that someday they would become reality. She wasn't quite sure of anything, other than the fact that all of these memories crashing against each other in her head was causing her pain. If nothing else, she was familiar with pain.
She wanted to call Daichi. But Daichi didn't have a cell phone and she knew that if she called the house phone at this hour, her Aunt Yui would throw an absolute fit. She couldn't be the cause of Daichi being scolded by his mother. After all, she'd done enough of that when she was kid and was pretty sure that she owed Daichi a lifetime of servitude for it. Not that she'd ever admit it, of course.
Makala sighed and left for the living room unsteadily. She turned on the television, lowering the volume so that her mother wouldn't wake. It was a wonder she hadn't already came storming into her room after the commotion she'd just made.
Halo, dutiful as ever, followed her every step. He seemed to know about her pain better than she knew. Whenever they did their morning run around the lake, he would suddenly slow down and force her to walk at his pace. It was as though he always knew when she was pushing herself too hard. It drove her mad sometimes and she would yell at him, even though she knew that he was right. She was always testing her limits, sometimes dangerously so. It was like she was trying to wheedle a little more strength out of some untapped reserve inside of her. She hated when people tried to stop her from this and hated everyone who tried to act like they knew better than her.
But she could never bring herself to hate Halo. He was a creature of instinct, like herself, and so she begrudgingly allowed it. Makala settled into the couch as Halo hopped up and laid down next to her. He rested his head on her lap and sighed.
Makala flipped to one of the few networks left that showed pokemon battles 24/7. They were almost always re-runs when the Indigo Plateau was out of season, but it was better than nothing.
"Sandshrew, use dig!" shouted the trainer on the television.
"She's just going to use Water Gun," Makala said quietly to herself.
"Poliwhirl, shoot your Water Gun down that tunnel!," said the second trainer.
"Told you," Makala said. She watched the match until the end, half an hour later. She thought about watching another, but she knew that if she did, she would just be up all night.
"What is insomnia?" she'd asked Daichi over the phone. She'd been up all night, watching television, for the second night in a row. With only scattered half-hour naps, her brain felt fried, but every time she closed her eyes she just couldn't find that peaceful place of emptiness.
"It's an inability to sleep," he'd responded. "Sometimes it's a genetic thing, sometimes it can be brought on by trauma, or stress. Where did you hear that?"
"Just saw it on television," she lied, rolling the bottle of prescription in her hand.
Makala got up and stretched the best that she could. She was sixteen years old today and other than a slightly less painful leg, her life hadn't changed much since then. She spent the majority of the day trying to fill up the time until the next day came and spent most of the night trying to do the same. She didn't need physical therapy anymore, and her session of home-schooling had already ended for the year once the summer came. It all meant that Makala was more bored than ever.
She spent a lot of time on the internet, browsing Pokémon trainer forums. The community was still incredibly active online, which she was thankful for. These days it seemed more and more like Pokémon rearing was a dying art, at least when it came to how things used to be…
Makala mostly lurked the forums, seeing the new methods of training that came out. Occasionally she posted questions to people who were already on her journeys, mostly asking about the cost of things. She had saved a nice amount of money from her part-time job (even though she was fired after 6 months for "talking back to customers", whatever that meant). If she was smart about it, she knew she could make her money last long enough for her to get started on her journey and enter competitions that awarded prize money. Things would be better after that.
Or so she told herself. The reality was that Makala's mother was entirely opposed to the idea, and she knew this without even asking. Her mother was the opposite of Makala in that sometimes she seemed scared to even breathe. Makala couldn't understand her, and maybe her mother couldn't understand Makala either. It would at least explain why they could hardly exchange a few words without being crushed by an overwhelming sense of awkwardness.
Makala didn't like the way that her thoughts had turned and so she headed towards the front door. "Let's go," she whispered to Halo as she slipped on her shoes. She quietly unlocked the door to their apartment and closed it behind her.
Their apartment complex boasted an indoor pool and the security for it was pretty lenient, since the apartment was mostly made up of childless-families and older couples. Makala was hit with the scent for chlorine as soon as she opened the door. It wasn't the ocean, but it would have to do. Halo jumped up onto a lounge chair as Makala stripped down to her underwear. She took a deep breath and dove straight in.
Makala swam downwards and reached for the bottom rung of the pool ladder. She held on in order to keep herself underwater and just floated down there for a while, letting the silence close in on her. She closed her eyes and imagined that she was in the ocean, diving through long entanglements of seaweed and schools of Goldeen. Worlds of colors swam behind her eyes, blues and greens twisting and morphing around her until the world was all quiet.
Finally, she felt her mind begin to ease. Even though her leg was aching more the longer she went without her pain killers, her stress melted off her body in waves. When she was at her limit, she surfaced again. Makala curved her back and floated at the top of the water. With her ears still submerged, she heard nothing but the rush of the water filter. She touched a hand to her left thigh, where the long scar that ran down her leg began.
She closed her eyes and felt at peace.
To: NoseInABook
From: SwimmingWithDragons
Subject: angry mother is angry!
07:38
So I may or may not have fallen asleep in the pool last night... mom was not happy.
I cant believe u told me in ur last e-mail to do homework to relax! Who does their homework to relax during SUMMER VACATION? Only crazy people probably.
- Smells Like Chlorine
P.S. i just read something interesting! call me noonish tomorrow!
To: NoseInABook
From: SmartyPantsChi
Subject: I hate Sundays
08:40
My Mom is trying to drag me to your house for prayer circle. I told her I was menstruating. Want to hang out?
- Chi
To: NoseInABook
From: SmartyPantsChi
Subject: RE: I hate Sundays
08:46
I'd like to clarify that I am not actually menstruating at the moment. Please reply.
-Chi
To: SmartyPantsChi
From: NoseInABook
Subject: RE: Menstruation
08:55
I appreciate the clarification. I'll be over in a bit. Mom told me to chase down the Rattata that's been eating her turnips.
Kala asked me to call her. Not sure what it's about. Can I borrow your phone?
From,
Daichi
To: NoseInABook
From: SmartyPantsChi
Subject: Crazy loveable cousins with big blue eyes
08:57
Of course! Good luck with the turnips.
Hope she is ok.
-Chi
To:SmartyPantsChi
From:NoseInABook
Subject: RE: Crazy loveable cousins with big blue eyes
08:59
Me too.
From,
Daichi
Cedarwood Village, Kanto
"Augh!"
Daichi swung the broom again, but that damn Rattata wasn't about to give up. They stood facing each other the vegetable garden, a battle to the death for his mother's turnips. The little purple Pokémon stood his own against the boy and squeaked at him as Daichi swung again.
He didn't really want to hit the poor thing, but swinging at it just wasn't enough to scare it away. Daichi leapt out of the way and fell on his rear as the Rattata came in for a Tackle. The pokémon missed. It faced Daichi and dug it's little forepaw into the dirt as it reared for another attack.
Daichi shook his fringe out of his face, the curtain of black creeping into his eyes now with how long he had let it grow. He spotted the garden hose out of the corner of his eye and dove for it.
"Rattat!" squeaked the pokémon, getting ready for another tackle.
Daichi grinned as he turned the nozzle until it was at full power. He aimed it at the pokémon. "Take this!" he shouted. He squeezed the handle and a fierce jet of water shot from the hose. The small rat panicked as the water hit its face. Daichi felt a moment of guilt, knowing from experience that being hit with the hose was no fun, but luckily the Pokémon finally gave up and scurried off and back into the woods where it had come from. Daichi released the handle and let the hose drop to the ground. He sighed with relief and leaned back on his elbows.
His clothes were covered in dirt and grass stains, but for the moment he let himself catch his breath. The little rat pokémon had definitely given him a workout. Though Daichi was young and skinny, he was very out of shape. He spent most of his time either reading or playing video games with Chiasa. He supposed he should probably work out. Maybe then his older cousins would stop picking on him. Daichi looked down at the hose with disdain.
Daichi looked back up at the sky, a clear and bright blue. It was kind of silly, but he thought of Makala. Everyone in Cedarwood more or less looked the same (Chiasa had once commented concernedly about the possibility of inbreeding). They generally had brown hair, dark eyes, and fair to olive skin. Daichi was no different. And so when his uncle Shiro first brought his family home to Cedarwood, their tan skin and blue-green eyes were deemed fairly exotic.
Daichi remembered the first time he met Makala. He was six years old when Daichi's uncle and his wife had came for a visit, bringing with them a tall ten-year-old boy and a small five-year-old girl. Daichi's mother had introduced him to his new cousins and he remembered being none too excited about it. He remembered thinking that all this meant was more people to pick on him and he'd eyed the then ten-year-old Ryuuji with wary eyes. His name alone intimidated Daichi, for it meant "dragon" and implied a fiery and abrasive character.
But Ryuuji surprised him. He was kind, with a wisdom and gentleness beyond his years. He seemed genuinely interested in the books that Daichi was reading and he knew all about mythical Pokémon and the great Legendaries. Needless to say, Daichi had quickly idolized him.
Makala, however, was a different story. She was reckless and dangerous. She liked to climb trees and steal cookies and sneak into other people's yards to see what they had to play with. She was wild, undisciplined, and frankly a little scary. Even so, there was something about the little girl's bravery that Daichi had admired greatly. She wasn't scared to talk back to adults and she loved entering the forest that surrounded Cedarwood Village, when Daichi himself had been told time and time again to never enter without an adult.
When Ryuuji wasn't around to stop them, Makala liked to steal away Daichi and make him her accomplice on her "journeys". She'd pretend to be a trainer looking for new Pokémon and going on grand adventures. Daichi would watch her climb over fallen trees and trek through shrubs so tall that they buried her completely. He wondered why he couldn't be like her.
Daichi's exotic cousins visited every summer after that, to escape the busyness of Celadon City and give Makala and Ryuuji a chance to play in the wilderness. He'd heard through the grapevine that his uncle was trying to get help from his brother to fund his business, or something like that, Daichi never really listened to gossip. He just liked having his cousins around.
Daichi wouldn't admit it then, but he missed them a lot during the rest of the year. The forest was quiet without Makala stomping around everywhere, and with Ryuu around the rest of his cousins typically left Daichi alone. When he was eight Daichi learned how to use the computer, and from then on he wrote e-mails frequently to his favorite cousins. It helped ease the loneliness, but he still missed them.
The last summer that he saw her, Makala was ten years old and Daichi was eleven. He remembered that they played a lot in the ocean that year. Makala was a natural born swimmer, unsurprising since she'd grown up on the islands before her father had relocated the family to Celadon City.
Daichi had been insanely jealous because it took all of his effort just to keep his head above water. Makala, who could never leave well enough alone, had tried and tried to help Daichi become better but all it did was frustrate him more. He eventually yelled at her and stormed away from the beach, leaving what he knew was a very hurt ten-year-old behind. When he went to apologize later that day, Makala had just laughed at him. It was a mystery what went on in her head.
Daichi shook himself out of his daydreams and stood. The only thing he knew for certain when it came to Makala was that he didn't really know anything.
To: SwimmingWithDragons
From: NoseInABook
Subject: Your face scares small animals
09:15
I just chased a Rattata out of my mom's garden. Wish you'd been here.
From,
Daichi
To: No
seInABook
From: SwimmingWithDragons
Subject: rude!
09:18
Said the boy being eaten by his hair. that's right, Chi sent me photos! when r u gonna cut that mess?
Kala
To: SwimmingWithDragons
From: NoseInABook
Subject: My hair is my business and I decline to comment on it.
09:20
Call you from Chi's house in 20?
From,
Daichi
To: NoseInABook
From: SwimmingWithDragons
Subject: RE: My hair is my business and I decline to comment on it.
09:22
K!
Kala
Daichi was thankful that his mother's prayer circle had already confined themselves to the living room. He was able to cross the den and head upstairs towards his room unnoticed. He'd just finished e-mailing Makala and was changing into a gray T-shirt and jeans when he suddenly heard a commotion downstairs. Footsteps stormed through the den and then the living room until finally they moved to the kitchen. Children yelled and parents talked over them, laughing and telling jokes. "Shit," Daichi cursed. His cousins were here.
His stomach growled. He had been planning on grabbing something to eat before heading over to Chi's, but it looked like he'd have to forget that plan. He left his bedroom and locked it behind him, to prevent his cousins from snooping. He crept down the stairs and peered around the wall separating the den from the kitchen. Twelve of his cousins were there, with the only missing ones being Ryuuji, Makala and the eldest, Haru.
The kids all ranged in ages from five to eighteen and ran around the small kitchen looking for snacks and other hidden treats. Daichi hid behind the wall again and grit his teeth. If he was quick, maybe he could get to the front door and-
"Yo! Is that little DeeDee over there?"
"Hah! It is!"
Within seconds Daichi was ambushed. His male cousins started manhandling him, searching his pockets for money. One of them even took off his shoe and shook it. "Cut it out!' Daichi shouted at them, but they didn't let up. Kaoru, eighteen-years-old and arguably the most cruel, threw Daichi over his shoulder with ease ran over to the kitchen. He tossed Daichi onto kitchen island, causing the smaller children to run from the room screaming. Daichi was still dizzy from being held upside down, and he was missing a shoe.
Kaoru pulled up a chair and sat in front of him as his two other cousins mimicked the action. Jun and Nino, sixteen-year-old twins with short hair, leered at Daichi with mischievous eyes.
"I don't have any money," Daichi said automatically. "You took everything I had last week."
"You have other stuff you can give us," said one of the twins, who he guessed was Nino.
"I don't have any other stuff," Daichi mumbled.
"Sure you do!" Kaoru said, patting his knee the way a friend would. "You've got that video game I've always wanted to get! That new one with the swordsman that just came out!"
"Loan it to us," said Jun, with Nino nodding emphatically in agreement.
Daichi felt anger rising inside of him. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "So you can break it like last time? Or lose it like the time before that?! Or how about that time you traded it for cheap booze!"
Instantly, the mood among the teens grew menacing. Jun and Nino looked over their shoulders to make sure the adults hadn't heard what Daichi had said, then turned their identical menacing gazes towards Daichi. Inside, he withered beneath their glare, but on the outside he tried to keep his back straight. He made to stand from the table, but Kaoru put up his hand and kept Daichi in his place. "You trying to get us in trouble?" he said lowly. Daichi made to say something smart but Kaoru stood, all six feet of him causing Daichi to grip hard to the edges of the table.
Suddenly, one of his aunts entered the room. She was a little, mousy thing, but her belly was swollen with a new baby on the way. Instantly the group of teens parted and started laughing among each other as though they'd told some sort of joke. The adult paid them no mind. She made to reach for a glass in one of the higher cabinets and immediately Kaoru went over to help her. Daichi took the time to make his escape. He collected his lost shoe from the den and ran out of the front door.
His lower back was aching from the contact he'd made with the marble counter top. As Daichi hurriedly descended the steps that lead from his home, he wondered not for the first time what it would be like to simply keep running, straight out of the village, and never look back.
1/28/18
A/N: This story is currently under revision so please excuse the inconsistencies and typos!