7-Bitter Ends; A Feared Beginning
"I was asked once what a hero was and I couldn't give an answer. I know it doesn't have to do with strength or bravery, but something deeper... something about who we are. I think that when a man watches a loved one die, when he sees cruelty and violence beyond imagining, when he knows that our lives are short and pitiful... when a man can go through all that and still fall in love, that man is a hero."
-Ash Ketchum
Note to self: Staple idiot mouth shut at next opportunity.
Ritchie and I had just stepped into the arena. It's vaguely circular, but that isn't for aesthetic value. Circular shapes can take more force than flat edges without breaking, and considering what goes on here that's probably a good thing. This is where training and battles occur. In deference to the fact that this is a school and not a warzone, the walls are padded to prevent injury. The floors aren't though- they're stainless steel and they look hard as hell. They'd have to be to resist Ki attacks. There is, supposedly, some sort of multi-plated hydraulic cushion system under there so that hitting the floor won't break your neck, but... damn. It's stainless steel. Fancy contraption or not, there's only so hard you can hit it without dying. There's never been a death at the Academy while I've been here, but I've heard the rumours. And there have been a hell of a lot of injuries.
Up above the duelling area there are observation decks, which are currently occupied by what feels like the entire school. Apparently yours truly being chosen as one of the five sacrificial lambs has aroused some interest in the student body. The odds against me beating Ritchie were set at one in five-hundred (Gary might have been worried about me but he was still Gary- he was taking bets within ten minutes of my decision to fight) so I'd get some money if I won. And if I lost... well, at the least the crowd would get some entertainment, although I do pity whichever janitor is going to have to scrape me off the walls.
The arena is used for training and is usually occupied by an entire class, but as this is an official battle the entire area is clear. Ritchie and I will get the place to ourselves until one of us is incapable of continuing, or a clear winner is decided by the referee.
Speak of the devil. Here he comes now; arms raised and whistle in mouth.
"This will be an official battle between Ritchard Hiroshi of Frodomar City and Ash Ketchum, birthplace unknown! The combatants will fight one another until one can no longer continue, forfeits, or is determined unable to battle by myself. No pokemon or weapons allowed. Combatant Hiroshi, do you understand?"
"Perfectly." He says, smugly. The ref turns to me.
"Combatant Ketchum, do you understand?"
I just nod. He drops his arms.
"Battle commence!"
Ritchie backs off fast. I don't blame him after our last fight. I let him go. There isn't much I can do to stop him, and it looks funny- the rich kid is running away from me.
"You gonna come fight? Should I wait here?" I drawl at him. There's some laughter from the upper decks, and Ritchie's face darkens. He always takes laughter personally.
"Fine Ketchum. You're so eager for death, try this!"
Idiot. Telegraphing his attack just so he can showboat. By the time he says "this" I'm already moving, dodging to the left. The fireball he spewed out just sails right on by me.
"I'm shocked Ritch. Didn't think you had even one ball."
More laughter. Okay, he's pissed, meaning he should do something stupid now.
Yep. He runs right at me, trying to catch me off guard. Once he's close enough he spews a long stream of fire at me- a flamethrower attack. It's dangerous, but attacking in a straight line was stupid. I move right fast, and close in while he's still burning the air where I was. I try to get a kick in to his gut. He manages to dodge, but not completely. I clip him in the side, and he gets spun around and falls on his ass. He doesn't bother getting up, and starts flaming at me from the ground. I'm forced to make an awkward dive to the side to get away, and I back out of range. He stands and we circle each other warily.
I need to find a way to get in close without getting burned, but with his guard up...
Stay calm. Use your head and wait for an opening, just like Riley taught you.
Ritchie has a certain type of mean cunning, but I wouldn't really call it intelligence. He isn't very tactical, and I think he's exhausted all the moves he knows. He's arrogant too, so he probably believes last time was a fluke. If I can get an opening, I can wipe the floor with him
We both make a few jabs and feints, but neither one of us is ready to reengage yet. The audience is giving us some fair minded and well-appreciated feedback:
"Tear his gorram nose orf!"
"Yeah, give 'im a kick to the bumps!"
Okay, we aren't the most highbrow crowd around. Even over the masses of morons I can hear Misty and Gary:
"You can do it Ash!" Yells Misty. I guess my earlier comments about my friends doubting me got to her.
"Come on Ketchum! Beat that dick!"
Yeah, Gary's creepy. I've stopped asking whether it's intentional or not, double entendre is just a part of who Gary is.
"Win this one and I'll let you grab Misty's- fuck, ow!"
Hahaha, eat it Gary. I hope Mist hits him once for me, 'cause I'm kind of busy right now. Ritchie rushes forward, obviously trying for the flamethrower thing again. Yeah, because it worked so well the first time.
"But he's going to attack directly in front again..."
And there it is. My opening. Ritchie lets loose with a stream of flame. Instead of dodging, I drop to the ground. I can hear shouts from the crowd- they all think I've been vaporized. It's a definite weakness in Ritchie's technique that he can't see what's happening to his target, as the stream of flame blocks them from view. When it finally dissipates he's grinning. He thinks he's killed me.
Wrong.
I rise, full of wrath. I've had just about enough of Ritchie fucking Hiroshi, and it's time to get him off my back for good. He's completely taken by surprise and he hesitates, which is all the opening I need. I focus all of my rage, my anger, my desire to live, all of my energy into my strike and-
Something... weird happens.
Time appears to slow down, and it's like I can see everything all at once. The look of shock, on Ritchie's face, the way Misty's expression is switching from horror at my apparent death to surprise as I rise up, the intense grimace on the Professor's face as he studies me... I can see everyone and everything in the room, all at once. My arm is... glowing. It shines an intense blue, as energy seems to crackle off of it. Suddenly it makes contact with Ritchie's face, and everything happens simultaneously.
Time speeds back up. There's an explosion at the end of my arm, and it feels as if someone is trying to tear it in two. When the blinding blue flash clears, I can see that Ritchie has flown a good thirty feet back and isn't moving. The crowd is silent. The ref runs up to Ritchie, checks his vitals, and sighs in relief. He then turns to the audience.
"Richard Hiroshi is unconscious and cannot continue! Ash Ketchum is the victor."
I sigh, and slump to the ground. Ritchie is an ass, but I'm glad I didn't kill him. There's enough blood on my hands.
Speaking of blood on my hands, my arm looks as if someone had tried, with some success, to puree it. There are lacerations all down it, and it feels prickly, the way things do when you sleep on them. Professor Oak has stepped down from the observation decks and comes to help me up while the medics rush Ritchie away for treatment.
"Well done, Ash. Your trainer is to be congratulated for bringing out such a splendid Ki." He then leans in and whispers in my ear: "Electric type aura? I suppose I should have guessed what with your close connection to Pikachu. Get yourself seen to lad, you're a mess."
I'm only too happy to oblige. My arm hurts like hell, and right now I need to think. Aura. It's real- I can use it! Aura...
Despite the pain, I can't keep an idiot grin off my face as I'm led out to receive medical treatment. I can hear harsh whispers from the crowd, but a few people are cheering. For me.
I could get used to this.
I sort of regret that sentiment later, as Riley grins at me. I know what that grin means.
Let me back up here. After the fight I was dragged back to the infirmary so they could patch up my arm. I didn't see Ritchie there, but that isn't really surprising. The infirmary was huge, as injuries were so common.
Professor Oak left me alone fairly fast. Well, he was the head of the academy and probably had better things to do. The disinterested nurse Joy who took care of me bandaged my arm, told me to rest for a few hours, seemed surprised when I didn't try to see up her skirt, and left. Now I remember where I heard about that Brock guy- apparently the nurses run and hide every time he gets injured.
Things are fairly boring for a while. The cuts are painful but not deep, and they'll probably be fine in a day or two. Sitting here with nothing to distract me, all I can do is worry about where this is all headed. I wish Riley would tell me more about this stuff. Why do I have it? And what the hell am I supposed to use it for?
After first bell, Gary and Misty come racing in. Misty grabs me by the shirt and hefts me up from my reclining position to look her in the eyes. Gary jumps on my bed and pokes his finger into my chest.
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?" They yell simultaneously.
"Umm... winning?" I answer, a little unsure.
"Ash, you ran straight into a Ki attack!" Misty starts to shake me.
"And then you blow a shitload of power into one arm and release all at once!" Gary prods me.
I start laughing. I can't help it. Misty and Gary are usually so different, and it seems that only their weird friend Ash can unite them.
"What's so funny!" Misty yells in my face. I grin.
"Aww. Were the water girl and the STD king worried about little old me?"
This, of course, sets them off again. But after they yell themselves out, we all start to laugh. I get to go with them and Ritchie got put in the hospital- what's not to laugh at?
"Plus, that attack was kind of cool." Gary admits. "What are you going to call it?"
"I hadn't really thought about names. Hell, I didn't even know I could do it until I did it."
Misty frowns at this piece of information, but Gary's grin gets wider.
"Well, it involves your fist and lightning, so I think you should name it after Misty."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"I think you should call it 'the shocker'."
There's sort of a brief horrified silence before Misty whips out the mallet and starts to wail on him. I just sit there confused.
"I don't get it."
"I'll explain!" Says a beaten, bloody Gary.
"Don't you dare!" Growls Misty, her face as red as her hair. She flourishes the mallet and Gary backs down. He's cowed, but still grinning.
"Why not Misty? What's so wrong about 'the shocker'? Misty likes the shocker, right Ash?"
She beats him down again. I just lay back and let it all wash around me. I think I must have fallen asleep for a few minutes, because I can't remember Misty and Gary calming down, but when I wake up again they're just talking. I decide not to open my eyes, as I'm kinda tired. Misty and Gary are great, but they can be exhausting.
"-have to tell him one day Misty. You can't go on much longer like this." I hear Gary say as I swim back to consciousness.
"I know, Okay?" Misty sounds... miserable. Is she okay?
"He isn't actually stupid Misty. He will find out one day, and when he does he'll be hurt that you wouldn't tell him yourself. He'll think that you're ashamed of it."
"I'm not ashamed!"
"Then why won't you tell him?"
Silence.
"Misty, he's a good person. And as much as it kills me to say this, he'd be fairly good looking if he tried. You aren't going to be the only girl to notice him forever."
Misty says something in response, but I can't hear it. General weariness drags me back into unconsciousness.
And, here I was. When I'd woken up, my friends were gone, and in their place was Riley, grinning at me.
I know what that grin means.
"So" he says, "electric type aura, eh? Rare. Very rare. As in, not since Aaron rare. You get curiouser and curiouser kid."
I blink stupidly at him. "Wha?"
He laughs. "Nevermind. It was a nice attack, although not one I would have used on a rookie. It can be a lot more damaging than that if you want it to be. Shame about the blowback, but your arm will heal."
"Aura has types?"
"Yep. Just like Ki. Unlike Ki, however, you should be able to use most of them. Ki users are usually restricted to a few types, most of which are related- like Water and Ice. Aura users are usually only proficient in a few types, but we can use more than just a few."
"What types are you proficient in?"
"Steel, mainly. A little bit of fighting and fire. Your friend Ritchie is a weak ass by the way,"
"I know, and he isn't my friend."
"Hmmm. Steel and fighting are my main ones, but I can get by in at least six or seven others. Electric is a great one to start off with kid- good attack, good speed, and few weaknesses. Stay away from earth users though, there isn't much you'll be able to do to ground and rock types."
"Even if they can only use Ki?"
"Hey, if it doesn't conduct, it doesn't conduct. And don't think Ki users aren't a threat, they're just less of a threat than... some things."
Before I can ask what he means by that, he carries on.
"Anyway, it's great that you can finally use aura now. We can move on to basic training!"
My stomach clenches.
"I thought I was in basic training..." I say uncertainly.
"This is basic training mark 2. Man, I've been waiting forever to break out that chainsaw!"
"Chainsaw? This is a joke right?"
It was not.
Riley dragged me out of school and back to what I could not get him to stop calling his sanctum sanctorum. Despite my feeble protests that I really deserved a sick day, we began basic training mark 2. Mark 2 seemed a lot like mark 1 to me, with the exception that it was a million times more insane. The chainsaw was brought out, as were the katanas, a set of nunchuku, the broadsword, the flamethrower and this paper fan thing that could do a surprising amount of damage when wielded in chibi form. Riley spent most of the day attempting to slice me, dice me, roast me, or otherwise shuffle my ass off the mortal coil. Then, when my "friendly introduction to the glorious world of weapons" was complete, he decided it was time for some close combat. No, literally, he had Zydanya use close combat on me. After being tenderized by his pokemon, I was apparently ready "to be taught some moves". He started sending blow after blow of aura infused pain after me, and insisted that now I could use aura I should do the same. After I finally learned to infuse my limbs with the power of aura, sort of like what I had done with Ritchie in that alley, he simply sped up to the point where I could barely see him. If this is what aura can do, I can see why we spent so much time on meditation- if Riley ever got really pissed, my entire school couldn't take him down.
Finally we stopped. I let my bruised, battered form slip to the ground. My arm feels like its on fire, and every other part of my body is letting me know that I am so going to pay for this in the morning. Riley walks over to me and leans in.
"You okay kid?" He asks. His voice has genuine sympathy in it, which is appropriate I guess, since he's the one who just nearly killed me.
"Just... fine..." I gasp. "Step a little closer sensei... I need... to strangle you..."
He just smiles. Not his usual grin, but a real smile.
"Yeah, basic training's a bitch. It was for me too, and I didn't have to go nearly as fast as you."
I sit up.
"Who trained you?" I ask, genuinely curious. He shakes his head.
"A story for another time kid, if I ever feel like telling it."
He sat down beside me.
"Kid... listen. We only have a few days before you go and... shit." He sighed. "There's a lot I'm not telling you. Some because you're safer that way and some because I'm not sure about it myself. It's just..." He looks me in the eyes. "This tournament is a lot more than it appears to be. There are forces behind this thing that you don't understand yet. You're heading in to a situation that's more dangerous than you can comprehend."
"I thought Oak said they do this type of stuff a lot."
"Oak doesn't know everything. Forces are beginning to move that I thought would stay dormant forever. There's a lot I can't tell you, but I want you to know that you have enemies. All of you- your friends too. Somebody wants this tournament turned into a bloodbath, and I'm not sure why yet."
Riley isn't serious often, but right now he looks grimmer than I've ever seen him. I think I'm getting a glimpse of the warrior he claims to be.
"Ash, this is your first true mission as a part of the aura guardians. I know we haven't trained for very long, but I'm out of time and right now I need you to be the man I think you can be. I have... other duties. Things that cannot be avoided. I'll be available to give advice via your cell phone, but you'll basically be in on this alone. I need you to go to this tournament, protect your friends, and try to find the whisperers in the darkness. Try to find out what this tournament is really for, who's behind it, and if possible, try to stop them. Can you do that?"
I was silent for a long time, thinking. Eventually I spoke up.
"You want a boy of fifteen, a boy who just learned aura, to go to a tournament with professional fighters and some of the best Ki users of his generation, and attempt to discover the motivations of some of the most powerful men in the world? And to do this, you've given him a hyperactive dog, a month and a bit of training and the vague warning that he has 'enemies'?"
Riley nods.
"Shit" I smile, "I guess if I couldn't take a joke I wouldn't have joined. You got it sensei."
He smiles back and puts an arm around my shoulder.
"Thanks kid. You'll do fine, I know it."
I've been trying to keep from trusting Riley, but it's getting harder and harder. I guess part of it is that I never really had a dad and... well he's a dick sometimes, but he's pretty cool. He gets up and goes to the side of the room.
"I've got something for you." He says. "I know you don't know when your birthday actually is, but think of it as an early present. It might keep you alive- it saved my life a few times."
He turns back around, present in hand. It's a long scabbard. It was probably black once, but time and use seems to have turned it a dark mottled grey. The hilt looks more impressive than the scabbard, with a jet black leather grip and the dull sheen of metal serving as a pommel. I take the scabbard out of Riley's hands and unsheathe the sword. It's some form of Nihonto, obviously based off the katana but with less of a curve to the blade. It's slightly longer than regulation length too- probably built for someone taller than me. There's the classical wave pattern up and down the blade, meaning it's been dually tempered to be both strong and flexible. It isn't the prettiest thing on earth, but it looks functional, useful and wickedly sharp.
"I know it's kind of ugly" Riley says a little sheepishly "but it's the first one I ever used in real combat, so I thought that-"
"It's beautiful." I whisper hoarsely.
I stare into the dull reflection of the blade and feel oddly... complete. Part of me is in love with this hunk of metal and the things it represents. It isn't the best part of me, I'll admit, but it's an important part. I can see my own eyes in the steel, but I'm not fooled by the looks.
I know that whoever is staring back isn't me.