Day 3: Secret Base
How to hide from a reporter who trains Ghost-types. The art of secret bases.
EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH CHAMPION MAY ON PG. 13
CHAMPION MAY RELEASES STATEMENTS ON ETPA
MAY SPEAKS ON HER PERSONAL LIFE IN BRAND-NEW INTERVIEW
"A reporter with a Gastly is chasing me around Route 121 and won't go away, what do I do?"
I struggled to a sitting position and squinted out the window. The sky outside was startlingly dark and full of stars. Actually, it was night. I took the Pokénav away from my ear and stared at the screen. It was 1:59 in the morning.
"Steven?"
"May?"
There was a long pause, marked by bursts of static.
"You ...don't want to talk to this reporter?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.
"Did you hear me the first time?" May sounded like she hadn't gotten enough sleep for at least three days. It was, I thought, a reasonable assumption to make, given that right now she was calling me two hours after midnight. "No, I don't want to give an interview to this MANIAC," -I got the feeling she'd yelled the word over her shoulder at the aforementioned maniac- "at stupid o'clock in the morning, can you do something or should I hang up and focus on running?"
Well, I was at a loss as to why she suddenly couldn't stand talking to a journalist now, when she'd happily befriended every major media voice in Hoenn by the end of her first month as Champion. But I supposed that May's reasons were not for me to question- not at two in the morning, at any rate. My head hurt already.
"Do you have the Secret Power TM in your bag?" I asked, swinging my legs over the edge of bed and cradling the Pokénav in both hands. There was a rustle, presumably her digging in her bag.
"Yes," she said. "What does it do?"
"Use it on a Pokémon," I directed, fumbling to get on pants and a halfway-decent shirt. I heard more rustling; keeping the Pokénav pressed to my ear, I struggled to pull on socks one-handed.
"I did it," she reported.
"Have the Pokémon use it on a gap in a cliff wall, or a big tree," I said, grabbing a jacket from the wall and walking out of my bedroom. I poured myself a glass of water in the sink and set my Pokénav on speaker while I drank it, still unable somehow to summon any sense of urgency for the occasion. The water helped wake me up. I leaned against the sink.
"What the hell is that supposed to do?" her voice crackled through the device.
"It's supposed to create a secret room," I explained. "It might take a couple of tries." I hesitated slightly. "I'm going to come and meet you."
Walking out of the kitchen, I picked my way across my dusty living room and opened the door, peering up and down the street. The humid heat of the night hit me all at once, making me choke a little. The air smelled strongly of the sea, the summer heat having dragged all of it in from the shore and spread it over the rooftops like a blanket. I felt like I was underwater.
May didn't ask me why I was coming, or tell me not to. She didn't tell me if Secret Power had worked or not. I listened to her breaths get calmer and calmer, through the Pokénav, as I walked down to the end of the street, where I released my Skarmory.
Flying on a Skarmory is many things, but quiet is not one of them. I directed mine to go higher, rising above the thick bed of sea mist, so that nobody in the city would hear the swift clink of her feathers folding in and out. I was the only one in Mossdeep City who owned a Skarmory, so everybody would know it was me. My neighbors worried about me enough without having to know that I was heading across the water in the middle of the night to meet that girl who was always in the newspapers. To them, I wasn't the former Champion, or the heir to Devon Corp. I was 'that handsome boy of Mr Stone's', who really needed to settle down and stop chasing pieces of shiny dirt before he did himself an injury.
STEVEN STONE REFUSES TO SPEAK ON RELATIONSHIP WITH FATHER
DEVON CORP. STOCKS PLUNGE IN VALUE
HEAD OF DEVON: "I'M VERY PROUD OF MY SON."
I peered down; we were flying across the ocean. I trusted in Skarmory's instinct to find land, because I'd never quite gotten the hang of navigating over water at night. Tiny islands stood out from the flat surface that was the water; the tiny ripples that formed around them were the only waves large enough to catch and reflect what little light there was. The rock formations we passed over seemed familiar, even though all the details I learned them by were melted in shadow. I wondered whether I was still dreaming. Of course, I was used to having things happen quickly, but I was worried about May and confused by the situation. I wished that I could hear her say something, now, so I could be sure that I hadn't dreamed her voice, that I wasn't flying aimlessly across the ocean and into the mist for no reason at all.
I was also unsure that, in the event that May's call had indeed been real, I wasn't flying aimlessly across the ocean and into the mist for no reason at all anyway.
Route 121 is right near Mossdeep, so I reached the general area in about fifteen minutes; Skarmory circled over the landscape as I peered over the edge at the black, sharp edge of the water. It was too dark to see much of anything, so I spoke into the Pokénav for the first time since taking off.
"Hello?" I wasn't entirely sure if May was still on the line, because I couldn't hear any sound from the speaker- the wind in my ears and the sound of Skarmory's wings was enough to drown out the sound of static.
A pause. "Steven?"
"Where are you?" I asked. I couldn't see the reporter anywhere. I couldn't see anything except for vague dark lumps and the glint of water here and there. There was no movement in the trees; there appeared to be no wind apart from the gust Skarmory's wings was churning up, and the trees were indistinguishable from the rocks in their staid, damp heaviness. It was a cloudy night and not even the moon was out to light the landscape.
"The little path on the left," said May, indistinctly. "This is really weird, Steven. Was this room always here?"
"Nobody really knows," I said, directing Skarmory downwards. The grass was damp beneath my feet as I slid off her back and recalled her. I slunk around the corner and headed down the path, feeling like I was becoming involved in something illicit. There was still no sign of the reporter, but what if they were just hiding somewhere? It was odd that they'd pursue May to this extent- nobody will give a good impromptu interview if you harass them- maybe they'd been a photographer?
Of course, the point of a secret base is that it's secret. I've only ever met one person who can find secret bases without help. (The fact that he was my neighbor had previously dissuaded me from establishing one of my own.)
"Can you just come out for a moment?" I asked, squinting in the dark. "I won't be able to find the secret base unless you show me. That's what makes them convenient for hiding."
Silence. Then May edged quietly out of a tree ten feet to my left and looked around. She was wearing an overlarge red sweater, the warm colors of which stood out to me against the cold black-blues and black-greens of our surroundings. Nothing else was warm. Even her skin was a flat blue-gray, an unhealthy color that couldn't be entirely ascribed to lighting. Her eyes were round as she turned to see me standing there.
"Hi," she whispered, and that's when a Gastly burst out of the ground at my feet and we both screamed. I leapt for May and we both tumbled backwards into the tree as somebody shouted from above us and the Gastly cackled so loudly I imagined all of Lilycove would be awake by now.
May and I, meanwhile, had landed in a square, unfurnished room, surrounded on all sides by foliage. It was dark and cold.
"Fuck, you weren't kidding about the Gastly," I muttered, brushing dirt off my pants and scooting away from her.
"No," she laughed, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her knees. "That reporter'll be here soon- he's run past this tree three times already- it's incredible, he doesn't seem to see it at all." Her hand stroked the ambiguous brown floor of the secret base absently as she talked, as if she was testing its reality.
At a loss for what to say, I stared at her hand, tracking the curve of her knuckles. She looked down, too. We both watched her hand move for a few seconds.
"I've never seen you dress this casually before," she said, abruptly, just as I was starting to regret coming to meet her. I still wasn't completely sure why I had, just that I didn't like the thought of her sitting out here in the gut of a tree all night, wondering if it was safe to come out. I'm not sure why I thought that both of us sitting in the gut of a tree all night was any better, but, at any rate, I was here now. And May was talking about clothes.
"Oh." I smiled awkwardly. Usually I wore suits. Usually I didn't meet May in such informal settings. "Well… what do you think, then?" I turned to face her, jokingly showing off my jacket and t-shirt.
"You look nice," she said quietly, completely serious. I blinked at her, taken off-guard for a second. "I like seeing you like this."
I leaned back, palms on the floor. "Thank you," I replied, staring up at the leafy ceiling of the secret base rather than looking at her. It was too early in the morning by about six hours to be polite, especially without caffeine. "It may be the last time for a while." Her eyes jerked to the side slightly at the word 'may', as if she'd been waiting to hear her name.
"I hope not," she said, cheerful again, pushing my arm.
OUR TOP TEN TIPS FOR TRAINING DURING THE SUMMER
HOENN RANKED AS TOP VACATION REGION FOR SUMMER
"THE OCEAN IS IN LOVE WITH THE SHORE" LEADER WALLACE ON MOSSDEEP CITY
I had only seen May a few times since she'd taken me to the Team Magma base, mostly for Ever Grande business. She'd kept me updated on the Groudon business, insofar as anything was changing: neither of us had the time to read Maxie's long scientific reports, but she continued to faithfully pass them along to me, as if she was trying to prompt me to voice an opinion on the topic. Honestly, though, I didn't know what to think about the whole thing, so I'd just kept quiet.
Other than that, I hadn't had much information in the way of her life; I knew better than to take the media at its word. We spent the next few hours catching up with each other. She told me about beating Wallace in an informal battle with only her Blaziken. I told her about having lunch with my dad, and how all he could talk about was the new update to the Devon Scope his researchers were working on developing.
"Does that bother you?" May asked, her chin in her hands, her knees tucked inside the red sweater.
"Not really." I looked at her, curious. "Why do you ask?"
"It used to bother me that my dad was so into his work," she said, staring at a far corner of the room. "He spends so much time at his gym, you know- and he always says that thing, "I have devoted my life to Pokémon", you know?" When she imitated her dad, her voice went low and sharp. She'd told me she hadn't ever spent a lot of time with Norman, but she sure had his voice down pat, I noted.
"Anyway, I thought it was sad that Mom had to live so far away from him- she keeps her TV on all the time, so if he comes on the news she can see it right away." May twisted her mouth to the side, thinking for a second. "But it's sort of ironic- now it's him always telling me to keep in touch, to visit my mom more, because I left both of them farther behind than they ever left each other." She laughed shortly.
"Well, you're an adult now," I offered. "Twenty years old is old enough to be making your own decisions."
"It doesn't matter how old your kid is," May joked, "if they leave home and then pull a stunt like defeating a legendary Pokémon, you've probably got the right to be furious."
She said it easily, like it was one of those vaguely reprehensible things all teenagers ended up doing- got drunk at a college party, got KO'd by a wild Graveler you tried to catch with a Poké Ball, got your heart broken by a person with piercings, god forbid. Defeated a legendary Pokémon. All in a day's work.
"That's reasonable," I said, laughing along with her, even though something in my gut jerked. It was much too easy to forget that there was a different side to May-the Champion side- than what I was seeing now. Again, I wondered if I should bring Groudon into our conversation. True, our conversations were mostly May saying things and me replying, but maybe she was waiting for me to bring up the topic? Before I could consider it any more, though, she was speaking again.
"That's why I moved Mom to Petalburg," she said. "But we all know that didn't work, right?"
LEADER NORMAN'S WIFE MOVES TO PETALBURG TO BE CLOSER TO HUSBAND
CHAMPION MAY SPEAKS ON RELATIONSHIP WITH FATHER, PETALBURG GYM LEADER
REPORTERS STORM TINY LITTLEROOT TOWN FOR CHANCE TO SPEAK WITH TRAINER MAY'S MOTHER
"I mean, they're in love, sure," she continued, the words sounding like they'd been forced from her mouth. "But that doesn't mean their relationship's working at all. I never understood what was so terrible about falling out of love- isn't it way worse to still be in love, but not be right for each other?"
"You think that's possible?" I asked her. At the sound of my voice, she seemed to snap out of whatever state of mind she'd been in, appearing genuinely surprised as she turned to stare at me.
"What, do you believe in true love or something?" she said incredulously. "I wouldn't expect it from you, Steven."
"No, I don't," I said quickly, the corner of my mouth turning up at the idea. "Of course not. I was just curious to know what you thought."
She raised her eyebrows, grinning at me, but didn't push the subject. "Yeah. I mean, I guess I don't really know what love is, but I think my mom and dad are really in love, and I think that that's not ...really… enough, to make a relationship work. I mean. Obviously, I guess." She sighed, even though the smile was still on her face. "It's like saying someone should get something just because they want it really, really badly. You know?"
"That's true," I said. "But… if someone wants something that badly, aren't they much more likely to work hard to achieve it?" She met my eyes; I tried not to be distracted by her look, but my next few sentences came out mangled anyway. "A good relationship requires work, and isn't love the incentive? I mean," I hesitated, "that sounds a bit cold, but-"
"It makes sense," she finished for me, and suddenly I was struck with the possibility that this whole conversation had meant one thing to me, and a completely different thing to her. Those last three words had been said like a hint. Illogically, I wished I could make her say everything over again, slower, just to make sure I hadn't missed something important, but it was too late- she laughed, looked away, and we both understood it to mean the conversation was over.
How many hidden messages of May's had I just barely missed? Was that why I always felt vaguely unsettled, talking to her? Was it because she was saying something different from what I was hearing, always hoping that this time I'd be sharp enough, quick enough to catch her meaning?
Or maybe that was crazy thinking, and I should stop before I tied my brain into knots. What could May possibly have to say to me that would require she speak in code?
May was watching me, and I couldn't help but read a hint of Oh no, he's finally cracked my great secret in her face, half-covered in shadow. I resisted the urge to laugh. Yes, I was ridiculous. Dear Arceus.
Just then, a voice came from directly outside the secret base, making us both tense up. I caught the words "was here", but the man seemed to be speaking in a low, secretive voice, despite the fact that the only one I could think he'd be talking to was his Pokémon.
We both listened to the reporter talk to the Gastly, and the Gastly gibber back in its own language. Time seemed to stretch impossibly long. It was incredible, how much two creatures who could barely communicate with each other could have to say to each other. I didn't dare to turn my head to look at May, but I got the deeply uncomfortable feeling that she was staring at me.
Finally, it seemed that the man had given up; there was the sound of a Pokémon being recalled, and then the crunch of footsteps heading in the direction of Lilycove. I let out a breath and finally glanced over at May; she hadn't been staring at me, after all. She was gazing with an odd intensity at a spot on the ground, apparently thinking hard about something. All that thought going on in her head; it was strange somehow that I hadn't sensed some kind of motion- of course, I was no psychic, but it was oddly strange nonetheless. I wondered if she was even aware that the reporter had left, but then she spoke.
"Isn't it funny," she said, thoughtfully, "how we can barely even communicate with our closest friends?"
"You mean… Pokémon?" I said, puzzled at this sudden change of tack.
"Yeah," May said, still refusing to look away from the ground. "We really can't be sure about anything to do with them, can we? We have no idea what they really want, what they really like…"
"We know some things," I said cautiously. "I mean, it's true that I have no idea if my Pokémon understand me when I talk to them or not, but the bond between us… I don't think that could be imagined."
"Yeah," said May, again, "but it's like my mom and dad, isn't it? You and your Pokémon could be totally in love with each other, and it wouldn't guarantee that you'd all be happy." She smiled slightly, finally looking up to see my shocked expression. "Haha, what, is that too blasphemous for you?"
"No, you're right," I said, after a short pause. "I suppose ...I'd never thought of it that way before." I ended up saying those words far too often to May- I never thought of it that way before. It made me want to spend a month on top of a mountain, doing nothing but thinking of something original to say to her, to surprise her, to call her up in the middle of the night asking, "Hey, May, why do you think Staryu only come out on clear nights?"
And she'd say, "Because they're watching the stars, of course!" and there would be no question in her mind as to whether they really did or not.
Was that what I wanted?
"May," I said, slowly, "why are you here?"
"Are we getting all philosophical, now?" she teased lightly. "You mean, why am I here on earth?"
"No, I mean… why are you here, on Route 121 tonight?" I saw her face change, the laughter sinking back into her eyes, replaced with a sort of guarded expression, as if she'd been waiting for me to ask, but didn't want to answer.
"Um." She stopped, nibbling on her fingernails. I waited, holding my breath and not knowing why. Her eyes flicked quickly to the entrance to the secret base, and I thought for a split second that she might get up and run away. Then, with the air of a person flinging herself off the edge of a cliff, she rushed forward; "I came to see you."
One part of me had been expecting this answer. The other half, the conscious half, spluttered for a full thirty seconds while May stared at me, an odd expression on her face.
"Did you need something, then?" I finally managed.
"No," she said, sounding frustrated. "I wanted to see you, because I like you. I don't need anything."
There was a long silence.
"That's why I was so upset about that damn journalist," she snapped, suddenly. "I don't like mixing my personal life with them." She practically spat the last word, as if it was some disgusting swearword. I stared at her, nonplussed.
"Sometimes I get so mixed up," she said forcefully, obviously upset for some reason. "I have to be a whole different person around them, you know? Do you ever feel that way?"
I wasn't sure how to say No, I have no fucking idea what you're talking about in a sympathetic way, but, luckily, for once May didn't seem interested in getting an answer out of me.
"And I don't like being that person," she said unhappily, her eyes fixed straight ahead of her on something I couldn't see. "It scares me, because if I get my life mixed up with that, I might have to become like that forever."
"May…" I stalled for a second, then touched her shoulder. She jerked slightly and whipped her head around. "I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you mean."
She gave me this look, as if to say, How could you not? "I'm afraid of losing my real self," she said, matter-of-factly. "In everything. All of this." She breathed out a quick, impatient sigh. "Fuck, I don't know."
May, to me, seemed like the last person in the world to ever lose her real self anywhere. I opened my mouth to tell her this. Before I could say anything, she grabbed my hand and dragged it off her shoulder and reached up and kissed me. Her lips felt rough, as if she'd been biting the skin off them.
And I let it happen. For just a moment, before pulling away.
We spent the rest of the night in silence, sitting close together for warmth and staring at the floor.
i might as well change the title of this fic to "clusterfuck of unnecessary adverbs" and be done with it AaaaAA i'm really frustrated sorry
if anyone has tips for eliminating adverbs, please PLEASE have mercy on me and leave me a review or PM dfkjghdfkjlhdfk
and.. also, thanks for reading ! yeah