The Johto Odyssey
a Pokemon Fanfic by Galbinus

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon. . . no, really. What did you expect?
Dedication: Aqua059, for her very supportive reviews and lovely OC
Chapter Rating: K+, perhaps T for light swearing
OC's in use: Lyokoluva's JoJo Dodgson

Thank you, again, for the wonderful reviews.

Nothing much to say before this chapter commences, except for yes, the blasted Contest finishes. . . unfortunately, it takes up the entire chapter to do so. By the way, if you haven't already, please spare a vote in my profile poll. I really want to see everyone's opinion. (The poll will end next Friday.) In any case, have a hopefully lovely reading experience, and if it doesn't trouble you, drop a review as well.

Chapter Seven: Cherrygrove Contest Part III

Cherrygrove Contest Hall—14:02, September 6: Thursday

As the lights suddenly blinked and shut off, the audience gave startled cries of confusion. Harley Davidson, however, was smiling contentedly, rolling up his green sleeves with vigor and reminding himself to compliment Mimi on her apt timing.

"Munch!" May's Munchlax cried, his squawky voice rising with panic. May, however, seemed to be too shocked by the turn of events to say anything; Harley liked to imagine that she was frozen to the spot, her usually expressional face immobile with disbelief. He had to congratulate himself—the plan was going along remarkably well. Perhaps the weird black-haired girl hadn't been lying about her peculiar abilities.

Shrugging the thought away, Harley motioned for his Banette to come closer. The ghost-typed Pokemon, who did not distinguish from the day or night as he could see equally well in both, floated over to bob up and down beside his Coordinator.

Harley whispered his plans to his Banette—stealthy for once—as he really didn't want anyone to hear, which would defeat the entire purpose of being stealthy. After a few seconds, in which the Munchlax's startled cries still did not cease and May still did not say anything, the Banette gave a curt nod and promptly camouflage himself in with his dark surroundings, which was not an altogether difficult task.

May, who had evidently been startled out of her reverie, hurriedly ordered, "Munchlax, use 'Metronome!'" in an obvious attempt to restore the light in some form or another. Sure enough, the familiar ball of white light began to appear at the tips of the small Pokemon's sharp but tiny claws, yet it failed to illuminate anything outside of a two-foot radius.

"Now, Banette! 'Thunder' the ugly thing!" Harley shrieked eagerly.

Complying only too readily, the Banette threw a jagged stripe of yellow at the Munchlax, hitting it dead-on and causing the unfortunate Pokemon to literally fly backwards. The brief, intense flash from the 'Thunder' attack caused a slice of the light to fall onto May's face, exposing her horrified expression for a split second before it faded away.

The familiar 'beep-beep-beep' sound of points—undoubtedly May's—dropping rapidly sounded like the purest music to Harley's ears.

"Haha! Take that, you little twerp!" Harley shouted victoriously. He heard a dull thump as May slumped onto the floor, perceivably out of shock or self-pity. Well, it served that little skunk right; that's what she got for insulting his cookies! NOBODY insulted his cookies. NOBODY. "Banette, try to 'Thunder' it again!"

Unfortunately for Harley, however, Munchlax's 'Metronome' had finally gotten through. An enormous sphere of light exploded from the Big Eater Pokemon's raised stubby little hands, enveloping the entire stage within a matter of seconds. Harley shielded his eyes with his hands, letting out a stream of insults underneath his breath. A few seconds later, he dared himself to open his eyes. Unfortunately again, he had opened them too late.

A beam of blinding yellow light sliced through the air towards the unsuspecting Banette; before the ghost-typed Pokemon could react, the 'SolarBeam' attack had hit him, full-on. A silent shriek exited Harley's throat as he watched, helplessly, as his Banette crumpled to the floor, his limp gray figure lifeless, unmoving. Collapsing on his knees, the purple-haired Coordinator reached out to tentatively alight his fingers on the Banette's body, only to cringe at its unexpected coldness.

Simultaneously, three large red 'X's appeared on the judges' digital panels. Glancing up from his Banette's body, Harley noticed with a nasty squirm of his stomach that May, having returned her Munchlax, was waving at the crowd, a positively blissful expression on her face.

His insides flared up with anger. Shaking with rage, Harley pushed himself to his feet and edgily returned his Banette. Had he bothered to glance at the hand-held pink mirror he carried around constantly, he would have noticed that his skin had purpled to the exact same shade as his wisteria hair.

Shrieking in anguish, Harley stormed off of the stage, and that was all anyone saw him for a while.

Cherrygrove Contest Hall—14:23, September 6: Thursday

Andrew Rosalind sauntered back inside the locker room after his third easy victory against some insignificant girl.

He half-smirked half-frowned to himself as the Coordinator, wearing an oddly apathetic expression on her angular face, entered the locker room noiselessly and seemed to float right out into the reception room, disappearing in a whirl of long black hair. Drew wondered how someone who had just suffered such a crushing defeat could level such a cool look, and wondered if she were crazy. Judging by the way that she (almost carelessly, it appeared, though she had articulated her words with a ringing finality) had ordered her Metang so casually and wantonly in battle, Drew reckoned that wasn't an altogether dismissible possibility.

Brushing the thought away, Drew maneuvered his way through the near-empty room, noting idly that the next round was the last. He wondered who he would be facing, only to have his questions answered by the appearance of a certain brown-haired girl from behind the lavatory door.

Plastering on his largest smirk, Drew sauntered in front of May, critically flashing his chartreuse gaze over her rumpled outfit. Her bandana—lopsided. Blouse—wrinkled and unironed. Eyes—sapphire and beautiful as usual.

Immediately after thinking the last thought, Drew blinked and turned away, forcing himself not to look at May. Embarrassed by his own thoughts, the green-haired Coordinator haughtily stalked away, feeling May's confused gaze bore into his back. He couldn't stop—however much he wanted to—the footsteps that shuffled in his direction.

"Drew? What's wrong?" May asked, laying a gloved hand on his shoulder. Flinching at the contact, the green-haired Coordinator struggled to regain his composure, which was not too hard, and forced himself to meet the eyes he had vowed flimsily just a few seconds ago never to look at.

"Nothing of your concern," He replied slickly. The words rolled off his tongue—smooth, fluid. May flushed with anger, miffed that he so easily rejected her offer to help him, heat rising to her face and thoroughly pinking her lightly-tanned skin. For a moment, Drew regretted his harsh words—it was as if he had no control over them, and though he hated to admit it, he really did not like seeing May—or anyone, for that matter, but especially May—getting hurt. However, his remorse was short-lived.

"Hmph! No need to get so high and mighty, Mr. Rosalind," May snapped back, planting her hands on her wide hips, speaking in the same mocking tone that Drew had heard her use not three hours ago, "I was only trying to help."

Drew frowned slightly at her attitude, but disguised his initial expression with a half-formed smirk that easily surpassed May's low standards. He decided it was best not to reply, and sank into a stupor, running his thoughts over some things. Cold blood rushed through his veins as he suddenly realized that his next match—and the final one—was against May. Glancing obliquely at the girl, he noticed that she, too, seemed to be mulling over the same thought, as she bore an uncharacteristically sullen expression.

Unable to restrain himself, Drew asked, "Scared, May? That you're facing off against me? You won't stand a chance."

As if a spark had been ignited, May scowled and turned to huffily face Drew. "Excuse me?! But I do recall that I beat you at that last most humiliating match in the Grand Festival!"

"Do you really?" Drew said, trying to keep the patronizing tone out of his voice but failing magnificently. "I seem to recall that the only reason you managed to beat me was solely because of her abundant luck and the fact that time was on your side. If the match had continued on for another half a minute, my Absol would have flattened your Combusken—who's a Blaziken now, right? About time it evolved."

May, appearing a bit taken aback by Drew's stinging words, stumbled backwards and was silent, her face a mask of surprise, for a few moments. Her petulant cerulean eyes seemed to glow with belligerence mere seconds later. Luckily, Drew was spared the undesirable fate of being yelled at by an angry girl when the loudspeakers boomed, "May Andrew Rosalind and May Maple please report to the stage."

Drew lazily stretched, and, making sure to walk right in front of May—which, considering his predicament, may not have been the brightest idea, but he didn't really care—pushed his way through the door and onto the stage. The familiar roar of the crowd gushed into his ears, heightening his hearing while the dim lighting, the lights having been restored by several electricians from the audience, lowered his eyesight. He heard May pad over to her side of the battle field, but his current preoccupation was flipping his hair at the audience, compelling many shrieks from female spectators.

With an extravagant flourish almost worthy of Harley's, Drew flipped out his Roselia, who had been preparing herself for entrance and emerged in a vibrant shower of pink petals. And, of course, the necessary amounts of glitter.

"I'll beat you Drew, you just watch, you!" Drew heard May cry out in anger. He didn't really care, though; her threats were usually as empty as air. However, as the match's start was imminent, the green-haired Coordinator turned to face May.

A bright flash of red light later, May's Blaziken had appeared on the stage, cawing menacingly and bristling his creamy-colored feathers. Drew thought that the warlike Blaze Pokemon oddly resembled May, but he (wisely) didn't voice this observation. His Roselia didn't seem intimidated by the fire-type's evolution, however; rather, she looked as if she favored the rise I

A bell, somewhere above them on the high ceiling, rung. That being the signal, Drew immediately shouted, "Roselia, attack with 'Petal Dance'!"

The Roselia pruned noisily and began spinning about on the spot. Soon, she was a mere vortex of blurred pink-and-green. Cerise petals flew out at deadly speeds towards the Blaziken, the sides of each flower part smothered in a sleep-inducing powder, which was a special technique of the Pokemon's.

May, who had evidently been preparing for Roselia's attack, yelled hurriedly, "Blaziken! Dodge it quickly, and then 'Blaze Kick' it!"

Swiftly, the Blaze Pokemon leapt to one side, easily avoiding the first 'batch' of petals but forced to do a ridiculous ballerina-like twirl to avoid the second 'batch' of petals and forced to do an even more ludicrous cartwheel to avoid the third, and last, 'batch' of petals. Drew sniggered at the site, forgetting May's words for a few crucial moments.

With much vigor, the Blaziken allowed his right leg to erupt in scarlet flames and, before anyone could react, slammed into the Roselia, causing the slight Pokemon to catapult off in the opposite direction. Smashing into a wall, the Rose Pokemon feebly slid down to the floor, twitching restlessly where she lay.

Drew's heart lurched to his throat, and his emerald eyes widened his horror. Immediately realizing how idiotic he must have looked, he made himself appear uncaring, which hurt both his Pokemon and himself. Without any encouragement from her Coordinator whatsoever, the Roselia struggled to push herself to her feet, tottering about wildly even after she succeeded in her efforts.

The brown-haired Coordinator looked, for half a second, regretful of her orders; then, almost as quickly as it had come, her doubtful look was erased and replaced by a feverent one. "All right! Time to finish off this Roselia!" May said enthusiastically. Drew half-heartedly glanced towards the scoreboard, sadly noting that his points had been cut down by a harmful third, while May's remained decidedly full. "Another 'Blaze Kick' to knock it out!"

Cawing eagerly, the Blaziken rushed towards the Roselia. Drew, however, had been prepared this time. "Dodge it, quickly!"

With speed unlike the rest of her type, the grass-typed Pokemon darted sideways, narrowly avoiding the powerful attack. The Blaziken chirped in indignity at his missed attack, and quickly pivoted about on the spot to charge up for another one. Roselia, however, had been calculating her actions, and blasted the fire-type with a well-aimed 'Magical Leaf' attack.

The glowing leaves hit Blaziken full-on, scraping his coat of glossy feathers and forcing him to land. Cawing angrily, the Blaze Pokemon toppled backwards, landing rather painfully on his bottom. Drew glanced towards the screen again to see that May's points had fallen back as well; the two rivals were now evenly placed. He couldn't help but smirk.

"Roselia, let us wrap this battle up with a final 'Magical Leaf.'" Drew stated coolly, crossing his arms. The Rose Pokemon obeyed, catapulting towards the Blaziken, a green ball. Razor-sharp glowing white leaves exploded out of the Roselia, hurling at the Blaze Pokemon. Drew heard the fire bird's caws of agony as the attacks hit him before he could react or fire a retaliatory move.

Expectedly, May was doing nothing; simply standing there, frozen, her mind undoubtedly clogged with fear. It was one of her major flaws, her inability to think straight. Drew only used her detriments to his advantage; he would be an absolute idiot to do otherwise. He thought he saw a flash of silvery cloth in the audience, which, Drew suspected, was more or less Brendan's hat. Fury boiled in Drew's stomach, and he forced himself to return his attention to the match.

May's Blaziken, badly injured by the 'Magical Leaves', was leaning against one blue wall, his chest heaving with every pant. Drew felt a qualm of guiltiness for ordering his Roselia to attack so brutally, but quickly shook the uncertain feeling away; he had no space for such flimsy emotions. Observing the battle, the green-haired Coordinator noted with a warm feeling in his stomach that his Roselia was appearing relatively healthy, despite the super effective attack she had sustained.

"Hn. Not too bad," Drew murmured, which, to his Pokemon, was like saying, 'Completely awesome.' (Of course, Drew was a man of simple words.) His green gaze flicked over to rest on May's horrified expression, and turned to her Blaziken's frail-looking body. "Even after evolution, that ugly chicken is still weak," Drew remarked callously, overly casually. As May's eyes were concealed by her bent head and bangs, Drew couldn't observe her reaction. "Finish the Blaziken off with another 'Petal Dance.'"

The Roselia sprung up, twirling around in mid-air and shooting pink petals from her red-and-blue roses. Drew could not help but notice that with each passing second, however, the Rose Pokemon appeared a little groggier, a little more disorientated, and then suddenly recalled that the move 'Petal Dance' had its side effects—namely, fatigue. He frowned and hoped that his Roselia wouldn't be too strongly affected, yet a nagging part of his brain told him that she must already be suffering from the first 'Petal Dance' move.

He didn't have a long time to dwell on these discomforting matters, however, as May ordered speedily, "Blaziken, dodge it, fast!"

While Drew's Roselia was no fumbler, May's Blaziken was no laggard either. With grace that almost made up his previous mishaps, the Blaze Pokemon leapt to one side, easily evading the attack that now pummeled towards empty air, and as the various pink petals hit the wall and ground, glitter rose up and seemed merely to beautify the Blaziken instead of causing it damage. Drew ground his teeth at his own hastiness.

With another glance at the scoreboard, Drew noticed even more dishearteningly that his score had fallen magnificently to a pitiful one-third, while May's remained at a solid half. Looking back at the battle, he noticed, almost despairingly now, that his Roselia had lost all dignity and was now tottering like a paper in a hurricane around the stage. It was obvious that 'Petal Dance's adverse repercussions were in full force—and there was nothing Drew could do about it, except for curse his rotten luck under his breath.

"Haha, Drew!" May yelled happily. Drew tried his best not to fume. "Looks like your plan backfired on ya! Blaziken, quickly finish off Roselia with a final 'Blaze Kick!'"

Blaziken chirped energetically, and with vigor rival to a warrior's, charged at Roselia, valiantly ignoring his many bruises. Roselia, still unaware of the peril she was in, was still tottering about like a fool. Drew simply could not look—he turned away, crossed his fingers, hoped that it would just all end—

Amazingly, incredibly, the lights turned off.

He looked wildly about himself, which was just as well, since nobody could see him. Incredibly, a light suddenly began glowing, somewhere in front of him—artificial, but perfect. Slowly, the white light began forming the half-humanoid figure of his Roselia, yet Drew had the queerest feeling that nobody else could see the light. He wondered vaguely if he were going delusional. Or perhaps the sudden turn of events were an extra addition to Johto's Contests? It was well-known that Johto was the most modernized of all the regions, but Drew had a gut feeling that this was no authorized incident.

The confused murmurings of the crowd only confirmed his suspicions, and yet Drew was almost positive that nobody else could see the light—surely someone would have pointed it out by now? He turned his attention back to the illuminated silhouette of his Roselia, which was becoming more and more defined. The light didn't seem like evolutionary, and Drew was confident that it was not his Roselia herself that was emanating the light. He had a suspicion that someone else—someone, perhaps, in the stands—or someone's Pokemon, at the very least—was controlling the light, and probably who could see it as well.

Drew had no time to ponder the mystery of the origin of the light, however—it spread, and yet still the green-haired male could not see anything besides his Roselia's glowing silhouette—and then, he shut his eyes—

When he opened them, May's Blaziken was lying prone on the ground, occasionally twitching, and his Roselia was standing over the fallen Blaze Pokemon's body, looking more perplexed than triumphant.

The audience seemed just as shocked by the turn of events. There was absolute silence as everyone tried to figure out what had happened. Then, suddenly, simultaneously, conversations—all, undoubtedly, concerning the incident that had occurred—flared and the judges discussed the event themselves.

May dropped to her knees with a clatter, wearing a completely blank expression, as if she were far too startled by what had happened to say anything. The judges, meanwhile, had come to a conclusion, and had all risen from their seats. After Nurse Joy exchanged hushed words with Trillion, the orange-haired MC bounced off the judge's podiums and onto the stage.

"Our three judges have come to a conclusion to this, uh, startling match!" She announced loudly. All the mutterings of the crowd quieted to better hear the MC's words. "We have, quite frankly, no idea who caused the lights to go out in a previous match and this one. However, rules are rules, and Drew wins this match."

There were mixed reactions from the crowd—all of his fangirls (and –boys) screamed with glee, while the rest either groaned pityingly for May's cause or cheered Drew on for his victory. However, somewhere in the audience, Brendan's faint but discernable voice was yelling, "What the—?! Grass Ass just got lucky! He shouldn't win! That dirty, cheating, little scumbag—" Ignoring Brendan's indignant protests, Drew couldn't help but smirk. His heart, though, plunged at Trillion's next words, while May's sullen face suddenly turned into a brilliant smile.

"But, because of her Blaziken's excellent outfit, we have decided to award her an honorary ribbon as well!" Trillion beamed. Drew's jaw dropped, but he quickly snapped it shut, not wanting to appear stupid. Looking towards May, expecting to see her face shining with radiance, he was surprised to notice that she was wearing an unusually solemn and—was that guilt on her face?—expression. Nevertheless, the feisty MC plowed on.

Pulling out two gleaming ribbons from her blouse pocket, Trillion lifted them up so that everybody could see them. 'Ooh's and 'Aah's came from the crowd as the two emblems, silver and painted (well, what else?) pink in the shape of double hearts, glinted under the spotlight. "These are the two ribbons! May May and Andrew,"—Drew's fans shot the MC murderous glares—"er, I mean, Drew, come and collect their tokens?"

Pompously, Drew swaggered over to claim his prize, making sure to flash a sneer towards May. She seemed to be trapped in a world of her own, however, as she didn't answer, idly collecting her ribbon and examining it through veiled eyes. Trillion didn't appear to be finished, though.

"As May has been made into the records, we thought it only appropriate to honor her with this ribbon," The MC explained, gesticulating with her hands, "It will have equal value with the other, normally-achieved ribbons. This is the first time in Contest history that a ribbon has been rewarded like this, however, so we hope that it will go through all right." Smiling widely at the silent brown-haired Coordinator, Trillion continued, "Well, that's it, folks! We hope you enjoyed the Contest!"

Her words being the cue, confetti bloomed out of tubes extending from the stage, showering Drew, May, the judges, and everyone inside the stage, a hurricane that was a lull in the midst of a storm.

Cherrygrove Contest Hall—14:53, September 6: Thursday

Brendan Ruby Birch hurriedly barged his way down the stairs and sprung onto the stage, embracing May in a giant bear hug, lending her abnormally cold body some of his warmth. Practically squealing with joy for his friend's success, he began squeaking, "Oh my Latias, May, that was an excellent battle! On your part, of course, Grass Ass didn't do a single thing worthy of praise"—he paused here to shoot said rather surly-looking green-haired Coordinator a dirty look—"but you, May, you were awesome! Seriously, you were absolutely incredible!"

May, her misty eyes clearing, turned to level her gaze with Brendan's. He noticed with concern that she was looked troubled by something—but what?

"Thank you, Brendan," She muttered quietly, lowering her gaze and staring determinedly at her yellow sneakers. Brendan frowned, but didn't comment, yet his heart churned with distress for his friend, though, admittedly, it churned an awful lot for May. "But. . . I don't think I deserve this ribbon." Saying that, she bit her bottom lip and looked away.

The first thought that rose to Brendan's mind was, Wha? He opened his mouth, intending to ask as to why May thought she didn't deserve the ribbon—because she sure as hell did!—but before she could say this, the robust figure of a brown-yellow haired youth had appeared and was now asking May questions.

"Hey, May!" He said, grasping May's hand in a firm handshake with his right hand, making sure not to drop the large PokeEgg he was clutching in his left. Brendan's heart stopped for a few moments as May returned the handshake—his ruby eyes almost burned with green fire—but the moment of heated jealousy passed, and the black-haired Trainer was left speculating why he had felt so angry, as the tall boy's gestures were clearly platonic. "It's me, JoJo, 'member? Great job on the battle against Drew!"

As if saying those words were his incentive to talk with the green-haired Coordinator, JoJo turned around to face Drew, who was a few inches shorter than himself. (1) "Hey, Drew! Great job on the battle against May."

Drew's only response was to mutter an ambivalent "Hnn," and begin stalking away, his Roselia by his side. Brendan caught May staring after him blankly, yet an—almost?—wistful fire was burning in her eyes. A nasty feeling bubbled in the pit of Brendan's stomach, but he ignored it. Then, one tossed rose later—the tosser, of course, being Drew—and one swiftly caught scarlet flower later—the catcher, of course, being May—the green-haired Coordinator was gone, having disappeared behind the curve of the door.

A sudden cracking sound interrupted Brendan's painted-red train of thought. Blinking, he looked at JoJo, and was startled to see that the PokeEgg he had been holding in his left hand was now cracking open. Surprisingly, the entire egg did not crack open; five holes were made on the surface of the egg from whatever it was that was struggling inside, and four stubby appendages were thrust out of these holes, while a yellow spiked head emerged out of the largest.

"Prriii!" The Spike Ball Pokemon squealed, flailing his tiny arms and positively blissful that he had hatched. JoJo beamed at his new Pokemon and hugged the Togepi, nearly crushing the small Pokemon. Brendan felt his heart surge for the Coordinator and his Pokemon's happiness, and May looked equally delighted.

"Wow!" May exclaimed, as if completely forgetting the graveness she had assumed not a minute ago, "Your egg hatched!"

"Yeah," JoJo agreed heartily, his green and blue eyes twinkling, "'Bout time, too. ZohmehArceus! I mean, like, the egg finally hatched!"

Everyone stared at JoJo after his brief burst of feminism. If he could have, the male undoubtedly would have sweat-dropped. At that precise moment, however, Max had trudged down the stairs and was now complaining to his sister.

"May, I'm so tired and sleepy from all of Drew's glittery powder"—Right on the mark, Brendan thought to himself grimly—"and I'm so hungry, as well," Max whined, stamping his feet on the ground.

Unfortunately for everyone else, the word 'hungry' in Max's sentence seemed to remind May of her own starvation.

Cherrygrove City—11:34, September 7: Friday

Maybelline Sapphire Maple stretched and yawned loudly as she finished the last of her ramen, which had, incidentally, cost the last of Brendan's on-hand money.

Said black-haired Trainer frowned and, very reluctantly, paid the fee for his friend's lavish indulgence. The blond waitress sauntered away and came back with the receipt startlingly quickly. Sighing as loudly as he could, Brendan tucked the foot-long piece of paper inside his green backpack and motioned for a bloated May to follow.

Groaning under the weight of her stomach, the brown-haired Coordinator slowly stood up, nearly knocking over nearby chairs, one of which her brother was sitting on, lazily rereading one of the magazines that he had 'borrowed' from the Pokemon Center on the S.S. Tidal. Smirking, May snatched the magazine out of his brother's hands, and, ignoring his angry protests, strode out of the door.

She stretched again and took in a deep breath, savoring the warm sunlight that beat down on her exposed arms. Hearing Brendan exit the ramen shop as well, she turned at looked at him with questioning eyes.

"May," Brendan began stoutly, heaving a great sigh, "However glad I am that you managed to win the Contest, I really can't afford to have you feast like this every day; I mean, I understand that every once in a while is acceptable, but I am seriously running low on money. Besides, I already paid for yesterday's lunch. . . and dinner. . . and today's breakfast."

When Brendan mentioned that May had won the Contest, she felt blood leave her face and quickly averted her gaze. The perceptive black-haired Trainer, however, noticed her drop in spirits and swiftly amended his words.

"Er, I mean, great job for winning the Contest! And, don't worry, I'll figure a way to finance your meals. . . somehow." Brendan said hurriedly, face glowing with embarrassment. "Er, you know me, I only said that because I, uh, wanted to keep the money to spend on, uh, cosmetics! Yeah, that's it."

Though May didn't suspect that Brendan didn't want to use his money to purchase makeup, that didn't help matters. Guilt roiled her insides, and the fact that it was not her, but Brendan—Brendan!—who had designed the outfit that was solely responsible for the ribbon that was now resting in May's—her own!—ribbon case was troubling her immensely. Qualms hit her regularly, each one stronger than the last.

Not wanting to dwell on the matter, May plastered the largest, fakest smile on her face and said enthusiastically, "Oh, that's all right! I shouldn't eat too much, anyway. Shouldn't we be setting off for the next town now? Following Marina's directions, after all, right?" She suggested, flinching as she forced herself to mention the blue-haired girl's name. She wasn't quite fond of Marina, personally, but couldn't quite place her finger on why.

Brendan cocked an eyebrow, scanning May's face with his piercing sanguine eyes. She hoped that he would not see through her guise—though, given her horrendous acting skills and Brendan's general good observation abilities, the possibility was slimmer than a sheet of paper. Miraculously, however, he seemed able to accept May's obvious lying and simply nodded.

Max tagging behind, occasionally putting in snippets of complaints, "May, the sun's too hot," or "May, you smell," they made their way back to their (pink) Pokemon Center room and picked up their belongings. After Brendan handed their copper key back to Nurse Joy, the trio set off for the next route.

Within twenty minutes of walking, for Cherrygrove City was not an altogether monstrous town, they had made their way to the edge of the town. Exchanging apprehensive but excited glances, they started their trek up Route 30 to Violet City.

Author's Notes:

(1) Yes, I'm making Drew shorter than Brendan. He is now an inch taller than May (Drew, that is.) Why? Because the show says so, and Brendan's last name is a tree. C'mon now.

After much inner-debating, I've decided to end the chapter here. I want the next chapter to start immediately with their little journey up Route 30. I'm really sorry that the first Contest had to take up three whole chapters, and I promise that I'll try to keep the unnessecary details in the next Contest to a minimum.

I'm a little concerned about the ending of the Contest, though—do you think such an ending is plausible? I personally don't think so, but I hope that it appears legitimate. Opinions, anyone?

Thank you so much for reading all the way to here! Do you have any questions/comments/suggestions/criticisms? Please take the time to leave a review. It can't be too hard, no?

Next Chapter Excerpt:

"Zuzu was relatively content for the most part, as long as he wasn't listening to the DNA Pokemon blabber on and on about some mundane topic or other, and he quite enjoyed the scenery. Lavender mountains dotted the horizon, chalky mist swirling around the pinnacles of each. The grass glowed golden under the leisurely setting sun, and there were occasionally small noises from the wild growth, undoubtedly common Pidgey or Rattata zooming about to complete their daily chores. The Swampert was amazed that such an urban region could harbor such rural beauties, but Zuzu wasn't complaining.. . . "

(Sounds boring, no? Oh well. But I'll warn you, I attempt humor in the next chapter.)