The strange office on the west side of Castelia is rather cramped. I'm not really good with small spaces, and the cluttered mess of tools and gadgets on the coffee table in front of me does no justice for my claustrophobia. The young blonde girl, maybe sixteen or so, tinkers with the Pokéball top I had brought in. She had introduced herself as Anne-Desiree, or just Anne for short. She's very lively, and clearly intelligent, as far as electronics. Anne and her family are very well known on the west end for her handiwork with PokéDex and Pokéball repair. On top of that, she's pretty damn cute.
Wow, she says suddenly, and I jump. Her electric blue eyes study the red cap with intrigue. I've never seen such workmanship before.
Me, either, I reply.
Is the owner travelling with you?
I look down, thinking of the rotting teenagers body I found only days earlier. No, I reply quietly.
Well that's too bad, she says, oblivious to my tone and her eyes not leaving the cap. I would love to know where he got this amazing design done. She goes back to tinkering, but just when I feel like she's done speaking with me, she asks the question.
So what brings you here, anyways?
I've arrived back home about three days ago, in an emergency vehicle with Serenity. The Pokémon, who has been extremely disoriented from the emotional and physical pain of losing her arm and her trainer, is in a state of severe delusion, and is being taken care of at Castelia General, a hospital on the north ridge. While I'd have preferred to have her cared for by my father, the hospital and the Center both strongly insisted that she receive medical care from them.
I thought back to her first major meltdown in the ICU.
Paul!
No, Serenity, I said calmly, trying not to stress her, I'm not Paul, I'm sorry.
Paul? She repeated. While it's rare for a Pokémon to know human language, her speech was rather limited.
I hesitated. No, honey, I said quietly. Paul isn't… Here anymore.
Paul..? Her eyes glossed over.
I'm sorry, I said, in barely a whisper.
Silence. Neither of us move. She stared, unblinking. Then she closed her eyes. The corners welled up with tears.
No.
I looked up, surprised. Sereni-!
No! She roared at me, and jumped from the bed. No! No! NOOO!
It had taken over three hours to find and calm her down, I say. Following another emergency operation to close her stitches, she and I were immediately rushed here.
Geez, she sighs, no longer messing around with the Pokéball cap. She was entirely fixated on the story. And her trainer, she pauses, he's..?
I nod solemnly.
She's quiet for a moment. Then, as if suddenly hit with a burst of energy, she jumps up. I insist you take me to this Pokémon!
Wait, what?
You heard me! I want to meet Serenity!
Why?
She gets quiet. Well, she says in a low voice, I just… I know what it's like to feel guilty.
Guilty?
Yeah, guilty. Like survivor guilt. Like you're the one that's responsible for the death of someone close to you. Like you… You could've saved them. She looks down. Nevermind, I'm prying too much. Here, I'll get you another hinge and flat cap for her Pokéball, and you can go. Free of charge.
I try to make eye contact, but she continues looking at the floor. No, Anne, I couldn't-
Please. She lifts her head up, and I look in her eyes. there are streaks running down her face. I don't fight back.
Anne-Desiree watches the tall red-haired boy walk out of the shop. After taking a minute to collect herself, she wipes her eyes and begins to put away her tools.
Her mind keeps wandering back to Colleen. She always protected me, she thought out loud, but the one time she needed me, I couldn't be there for her…
Anne puts the microscrewdriver back on the coffee table. She can't. The shop was this messy when she left; it would be an insult to clean it now. She collapses on the couch, curling into a ball. But before she gets a chance to melt down, she hears the sound of change. Anne stands up and pulls the cushions apart, and in the middle is an envelope filled with coins, and a phone number written on it.
My dad walks from the stove to the fridge, trying but horribly failing to cook hamburger meat for Hamburger Helper. Normally this is fun to watch; seeing as he isn't exactly an iron chef, but tonight neither of us are in any mood to laugh. He lost another patient today. I know he's just running around the kitchen as a distraction, but I know at some point he'll chuck the whole pan and end up microwaving Ramen for the two of us.
My mom is out of region for the next four months. She's a doctor, like my dad, but she actually works at the hospital. They're not together anymore, due to my father's lack of success. I mean, he isn't bad at what he does, but there's only so much room for doctors in Castelia General.
Just as I'd predicted, I hear my dad curse under his breath and dump the burnt beef into the food disposal, and the familiar crinkling of a Ramen package.
So hows the orphan Pokémon doing, he says with a mouthful of noodles. I grunt. I'm not very keen on telling him that she refuses to accept the death of her trainer. That bad, huh? I grunt again. He sighs. You know, if you'll let me, I might be able to help you out.
Dad, it's a pretty messed up situation, I say, eating another forkful of chicken Ramen. It's not something that you can spray a Potion on.
He runs his hand through his graying hair. That's not what I do, he says, aggravated. You know that.
I know, I'm sorry. It's just… I dunno. This is new to me.
We eat in silence. Then he says, Have you tried letting any of the others out? I don't reply. I haven't. I'm too scared to. The thought of maiming another Pokémon or even killing it is terrifying.
Warren, what if they're still alive? I don't answer. I can feel my face getting hot. My lack of response makes him begin to raise his voice. What if you can save them? What if-
Yeah, and what if I can't, dad! What if I kill them!
I'm standing now, both hands balled into fists on the table. My Ramen bowl is on the floor, cracked, with broth leaking across the hardwood. I don't remember standing up, but I immediately regret it. My dad stands up slowly. I expect the worst, but he just looks at me from behind his glasses, and smiles.
You've gotta fire in your belly, boy. Just like your mother.
I want to be upset at him, but I can't do it. I just smile back.
We both jump when the phone rings. I'll get it, I say, jogging to the landline. I answer with the customary greeting dad has always had me answer with: Kilburn Care Unit, this is Warren, how can I help you?
Warren? The voice on the other line says. I recognise it as Anne's.
Oh, hey.
So, um, she pauses. She sounds nervous. How's Serenity?
I'm not sure, I reply. She doesn't want to see me, so I've just kind of been staying home.
Oh.
Yeah.
She exhales heavily. I'm going to ask you again. Please let me go see her.
Okay.
No, you don't understand-wait, did you say yes?
I laugh. Yes, Anne. But… Look, she's not exactly friendly. She might attack you. I can't be sure, and I can't protect you.
I know, she states flatly. Damn, she's stubborn.
Okay.
Okay. So, tomorrow?
Yeah, sure. I'll meet you there around noon.
Alright.
Okay. Well… Night.
Night, Kilburn. She hangs up the phone, but I stay on the line an extra moment. I can't help but wonder if she's as nervous as I am.
My dad calls from the dining room that I still have Ramen to clean up.