Chapter 7
"I'm cool with failing so long as I know that there are people around me that love me unconditionally."
—Dave Chappelle
I almost forgot how much it hurts to be alive. Not in a depressed, suicidal sort of way, but purely physical: My body hurts from just about every movement, whenever me and my Pokémon get separated. I accept it as another facet of life though, since I'd rather have them here than not here.
When I get up to the Pokémon Center's desk, Nurse Joy tells me that my "uncle" has already gotten my Pokémon. I figure that means Sean's also gone back to the room and saw I left. I'm not as concerned about disobeying him as hearing him go off on me because of it. He's kind of annoying when he talks.
He finally shows as the presentation is about to start. He's walking towards me, then stops for a few seconds to let Grit, Pong, and Stein pass. He comes at me, opens his mouth . . . then shuts it and gestures for me to follow. Slightly confused, I stick behind him as he maneuvers through the crowd. "What, no lecture?"
"I'm tired of them and I assume you are as well. I'm not exactly looking forward to dying of stress so early."
The presentation takes place in the Champion's room, where a stage and microphone have been set up already. Lots of rows of folding chairs are set in front and almost all of them are full. Blue is up there talking to an announcer-type lady. "Do we bring it up now?"
"Too many people around."
"It's not like we're trying to murder him."
"No, but we're saying something equally as crazy, and excuse me for not wanting to be a laughing stock on national television. Besides, I suspect my family will be watching this as well, and . . ." He trails off with the most uncomfortable expression I've seen him make.
"You hate your family or something?" He gives me an equally irritated and astonished look. "I mean, the way you're dodging them and all."
"No, it's . . . No, it's not that I hate them. It's, uh . . ." He looks at me for a long time without blinking, that locked-up expression I'm used to seeing on his face, but suddenly, it's not that locked up anymore. "They wanted something better of me."
"What do you mean?"
He crosses his arms and closes his eyes. "I told you already that I'm not a Trainer. What I do is travel around the regions and do my own brand of investigation and research. They're not so lucrative, and I'm not famous because of it. My father thought that, with my intelligence, I'd be a Pokémon Professor or something equally as renowned, but I'm not. I'm more like . . ."
"The world's smartest bum?" He gives me a hard look and I shrug.
"If you want to be crass about it, yes, I'm the world's smartest bum. I do menial work to afford the long journeys I go on that don't end with a big paycheck." Well, I see why he's stingy about money now. "It's not exactly something I can go writing home about."
"Poor you." He gives me a look that can literally kill. "No, I mean it in all seriousness. No sarcasm."
"Alright, everyone be seated, the presentation is about to start," the announcer lady says. Sean starts to walk away and I grab his elbow.
"Aren't you gonna stay and listen?"
"For what?" he says in irritation. "I know nearly everything about Pokémon there is to know."
"Nearly everythin', huh. That a fact, or jus' your ego?" Pong says.
"And after meeting your Pokémon, I've decided that I know enough," he adds.
"Hey. Even as ghosts, my Pokémon have more social skills than you."
"Good for them," he says blandly. "Release me."
"What do you plan on doing anyway?"
"Find a bench to sleep on."
"What? Sleep?"
"Yes, sleep." He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose like he has a headache. "Human beings do require sleep."
"Yeah, but . . ." Sean grabs my wrist and pulls my hand away before stalking off.
"He should get that stick surgically removed sometime," Pong says.
"Leave him alone, Pong. That's . . . my friend, okay?" I take a seat with the rest of the Trainers as Blue heads up to the mike. He starts talking about his childhood, growing up in Pallet Town, making it through the League and everything. Wow . . . I idolized him and Red as a kid, and, well, I got to be Red for a while, but . . . I'm basically meeting one of my childhood heroes here.
'You don't seem all that happy about it,' Stein says.
"Yeah, well . . . I'm kinda over the whole Trainer biz now. Spent a year beating all the Gyms—I don't even know where that stupid Badge case ended up either, probably buried in the snow back on Mt Silver—and the only credit I got was getting brained by Poké-god. I kinda wish I'd been like the others and crept in the bushes on a one-way path."
'Arceus needs to get brained his damn self,' Pong says.
"Nah, I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemies." As Blue speaks, I'm reminded of the first time I saw him on television. It was an old rerun of his Champion battle, but I thought it was so freaking amazing at the time. He's older now, about middle age, and I dunno, the magic's gone. Even though he's giving these motivational words about how anybody can reach Champion status regardless of circumstances (which I did too) I'm unfazed. Eventually I stand up and walk off to find Sean.
He's not sleeping in the Hall of Fame, but he's staring hard at Red's portrait. There are a handful of photos between his and the recording machine, and the most recent one is mine. I didn't know coming in that the recording machine had a camera, so it caught me a little off guard.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Trying to figure it out . . ." He presses his hands together beneath his chin and paces a little on the spot. "If Mt. Silver requires the strongest Trainer of the moment to keep the other Legendaries at bay, then . . ."
"Then?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out. There must be a way . . . if the Trainer goes and their Pokémon stays?"
"That'd be like telling you to go but leave your leg. It's hard to believe, but some people consider their Pokémon family, Sean Isaac DiCaprio."
"I'm just brainstorming." He finally turns to look at me and furrows his brows in confusion. "What about the presentation?"
I shrug. "I think I've had enough of the 'gotta catch 'em all' nonsense for about three lifetimes. If we get out of this, I'm gonna be a lawyer or something equally as boring."
"When," he says. "When we get out of this, not if."
"I mean, we're just about out of time, and we're still standing in the same place we started."
"What kind of motivation is that?" He angles his entire body towards me and gives me a hard look. "What if I die then? You'll have to become 'Red' again." He turns slightly and crosses his arms, looking off to the side. "Or you'll become him anyway. Arceus is most likely to smite me for wasting its time, should I fail." The thought makes me feel so lightheaded, my Pokémon are the only reason I don't pass out on the spot.
"Okay, fine, I'll try to stay positive. It's not exactly the easiest thing right now, though."
"I'm trying. We're trying."
"Trying isn't doing us a fat load of good."
"Then what?" He covers his face for a moment, then lets his hands fall to his sides. He looks genuinely upset for the first time since I met him.
"What, did something happen between before and now?"
"I got a phone call."
"Your family?" I ask, even though it's pretty obvious. He nods and doesn't berate me for it.
"My sister is going to go into labor sometime this week. It made me think . . . what if I'm smote before that happens? What if I get killed the next time a Legendary Pokémon shows up before that happens? What if she's the one that gets hurt next time?" He shakes his head. "It reminded me of what I have to lose. It's more than just this endless research project I've been on for so long."
"Wow. Um. Look, dude, I'm sorry for being all pessimistic." He doesn't say anything, looking at Red's photo again. "You, uh, don't talk about your family much. Can I hear about them?"
"There's nothing remarkable about them."
"Yeah, but, you know, I kinda want to know who raised you. You know, so I can ask them where they went wrong." He gives me a familiar withering look and I grin.
"My dad," he says after a few seconds, "and three sisters. One is younger than me."
"So you're the kind of guy that knows how to braid hair and stuff. Funny; you don't look like the caring and sensitive type."
"Read between the lines, Stein."
"Which lines?" Sean never did look like an especially kindhearted person. He always has this kinda mean mug on, and if it's not that, he's a master at cutting people off in conversation and making them feel stupid. I can almost imagine him kicking a bag of defenseless puppies.
"It doesn't matter." He sits on the metal bench against the wall and I sit with him. "We still have another forty-nine minutes before Blue is done."
Silence falls over us, and while Sean seems happy to sit and stare into space, the quiet makes my skin itch. "So, uh, you like movies?"
"No." Yeah, there's the cutting people off thing at work. He's a professional.
"You must've not had a childhood."
"Why do you like movies?"
"They're, like, the most amazing thing on the planet." He scoffs. "Seriously! You take a story on paper and make it come to life—that's so cool. I want to . . ." I realize what I'm about to say and stop, which Sean, smart as he is, notices immediately.
"You want to make movies."
"Yeah, someday. That was . . . is my dream. Aww, man, I almost forgot about that. Most of my brain is still overcooked spaghetti."
". . . I don't suppose I need to ask if you've watched the Swords of Justice trilogy."
"What do you take me for? I watched each movie three times. Although I think The Legend of Cobalion was executed the best out of the three, even though it's the second movie. The pacing was consistent and the dialogue was realistic, but the CGI could've been better. The only real complaint I have is how it ret-conned Asher's death in the first movie."
He was staring at me without blinking the whole time, but now he frowns. "It did not ret-con anything. In Virizion's Tale, Asher burned in the fire to appease the Legendaries."
"That's horse shit! Okay, sorry, that was Pong, but you get the point. He burned for Virizion specifically—that appeasing thing was just in the sequel. And Virizion said afterwards, 'You always do go above and beyond for your friends.' Like, he only knew Virizion personally, so it couldn't have been for all the Legendaries."
"At the same time, though, the other Legendaries were somewhat attached to Asher, which he knew. Even if he didn't like them, he knew they liked him."
He kept going back and forth, and after a while I realized what he was doing. "So you watch movies like a normal person."
"Not much as of late, but as a kid, of course," he says. "I was a . . . an oblivious kid."
"A normal kid?"
Sean looks away as the sound of dragging chairs rises from the main room. "It's time. Come on."
Sean and I push through the crowd of passing Trainers, but Sean gets stuck because he can't turn intangible and pass through a bunch of bodies. Blue is about to walk through a back door and I grab his hand before he does. "Hey, wait a second!"
He turns towards me, and I don't know what he was about to say, but he looks into my eyes and stops. It gives Sean time to catch up, and he grabs my shoulder. "We need to talk about Red."
Blue sighs and rubs his neck. "What's there to talk about? I haven't seen him in years."
"We've seen him. Sort of. Well, I've been him."
"Wait, what?" Blue looks at Sean with wide eyes as he holds up his branded hand.
"Can we have a moment?"
There's a cable car system that runs from the Indigo Plateau to Viridian City so not every sap has to deal with Victory Road. Blue, Sean, and I catch the next one heading down.
"My name is Sean Isaac DiCaprio."
"And I'm, uh, Oz Nomiddlename Dyer."
"Okay, so, introductions have been made," Blue says. "Now, your story?"
Sean and I take turns explaining what happened on Mt. Silver and how we're struggling to find an answer for this "Red" problem. Blue doesn't call the psycho police on us right away, which is motivating, but he doesn't look entirely trusting of us.
"Do you have proof?" he says when we're done.
"Ya know how Pokémon are flipping out all over on the news? That's because of the bad guy Legendaries," I tell him.
"Well, that is indeed suspicious and out of the ordinary, but you guys' story is still a little . . ."
"Well, we can't prove it-prove it to you, because that would involve a lot of screaming and chaos and probability of death, and that's generally not a fun thing."
"Then if I go to Mt. Silver, I'll see—"
"Uh, going to Mt. Silver isn't a good idea. Because, ah—" I realize Sean's been silent for a while, and when I look over I see that his right fist is clenched tightly. "Oh shit."
"Shit indeed," he mutters as a thud sounds from the roof of the car, like something heavy fell on top of it. The entire car shakes from side to side and people rise from their seats. Blue is already drawing a Pokéball, but just a second later, the car groans as it stops sliding down and starts freefalling.
"This is not good!" Everyone floats up from the ground and clutters together on the ceiling. Me being used to floating and all, I maneuver to the railing parallel to the window and use it to keep my balance. I can see the rocky landscape of Victory Road getting closer and closer each second. "Stein, Grit, use Psychic and Ominous Wind."
'Two moves at once? No way!' Stein protests.
'Oz, that will kill you,' Grit says. 'We can do it outside of you, but—'
"No, you have to do it now!"
'Oz!'
"Now!"
It happens again. Their energy passes through me, and again, I feel like a living person. I use Psychic to slow the car while changing the wind to increase drag at the same time. The car slams into a collection of sharp rocks that heavily dent the metal exterior, and it flips onto its side and starts sliding down the hill. It comes to a hard stop against a large boulder, some feet from a tall waterfall. People hit the ground with noises of surprise, but nobody seems too hurt.
"Oz, what was—th—a—" Sean's voice sounds underwater-ish with the blood rushing in my ears, and I can barely feel his arms holding me up. My whole body is numb and sort of cold, getting colder. "Oz—a—wh—" Some seconds later, I black out.
