Author's Note: Good grief, Viridian is a busy place. The Pokémon Contest is finishing today, and the next two days are the Pokéathlon. Then we get on way to Route 2! The trainers have their hands full...
This chapter is going to be a little different. The action will continue, but I feel like...well, I guess you'll see. Read on.
Chapter 9
Introspection
"...and with that, we're ready to begin the second match of the second round! Congratulations to Clarence for his victory over Ciara in the last match! He will be moving on to the next round!" Lilian was as energetic as ever as the crowd cheered loudly. Chris and Rachel watched intently; it was time. "And now, it's my pleasure to introduce the next two contestants! First up is Giséle Boucher!" As the name appeared on the screen, Chris squinted hard at the odd spelling. Gee-ZELLE BOO-shee.
"Giséle, originally from Kalos, grew up in the Sinnoh Region! Her hallmark in previous contest years is her stunning beauty, graceful poise, and unique choices in Pokémon!" During the mini-biography, Giséle walked onto stage, waving to the cheering audience. It was obvious she had fans in the stadium, given the volume of the applause. "Giséle is, as of last season, a Top Coordinator, so be prepared for some amazing appeals!"
"What's a Top Coordinator?" Chris asked.
"An honorary title," said a voice. It came from between Chris' and Rachel's heads. Both yelped and turned around to see Nate leaning forward.
"Nate!" Rachel gasped. "You scared the tar out of me! How long have you been sitting there?"
"Since the start of the contest," he replied. "I didn't notice you, either." He grinned, and it was then Rachel's face started to redden as she remembered Beheeyem's little fantasy vision. He was sitting right there all along!
...what was he seeing?
"Nice to meet you," Chris said, shaking his hand. "You were saying?"
Nate nodded. "A Top Coordinator is an honorary title for anyone who makes it to the Indigo Grand Festival."
Chris nodded. Now he was worried for Eric.
"What brings you to the contest?" Rachel asked.
"Eric's become something of a fishing buddy," Nate said simply.
"Her opponent is a brand new Coordinator from Lavaridge Town in the Hoenn Region! He's one of the three trainers sponsored by Professor Oak in Pallet Town, so we're sure he has some great promise! And if you saw his appeal with Ponyta earlier, you know he has skill and talent! Ladies and Gentlemen, the Viridian City Pokémon Contest is proud to debut Eric Blackwood!"
As his name was said, the audience began to cheer, and Eric stepped out onto the stage, bowing to the audience before proceeding to his side of the arena. "As always, this is a Contest Battle! The winner will be the trainer who can both defeat their opponent and do so in a manner that really shows off their Pokémon as well. Are the judges ready?"
The judges, sitting at their platforms, all nodded in agreement.
"In that case, let the battle begin!" Some fireworks went off as she spoke, signaling the start of the battle.
"Liligant, take the stage!" Giséle threw out her Poké Ball, releasing the elegant grass-type Pokémon.
In that instant, time slowed down for Eric as he gripped the red and white Poké Ball, getting ready to throw it. Everything he'd done to date had led to this, the start of his ultimate journey...
"Eric! Come down for breakfast!" The 13-year old Eric bolted down the stairs, grabbed a piece of toast, stuffed it in his mouth, then bolted out the door.
"Hey! You get back in here right now and eat young man!" his mom yelled.
Eric came stumbling down the stairs in response, half-awake, rubbing his eyes. "Wha-?"
His mother froze for a half-second, not sure how to process what just happened. Then it dawned on her. "Ugh, Ditto! Get your slimy back-end in here!"
The fully-dressed version of Eric bolted back into the kitchen, giggling uncontrollably as it morphed back into its pink blob form. "I swear," Eric's mother sighed. "Ditto's like the rambunctious little brother you never had."
Eric, still exhausted from waking up and not really feeling like dealing with this circus, mumbled something about brushing his teeth and went back upstairs. Ditto followed soon after.
"Squirtle, jump!" On command, Squirtle leapt into the air as the multicolored leaves continued to track his moves. "Rapid Spin!" The tiny turtle Pokémon proceeded to spin in midair with such force that the colored leaves seemed to dance around him after ricocheting off his shell. The emcee shouted joyous remarks regarding the counterattack, but Eric was lost in two worlds - the battle, and the past.
Eric's little town was weird. The age to own a Pokémon had been raised to 16 several years ago, but by ten, most kids had their own Pokémon partner. It was the kind of thing that was common in Lavaridge, but not really talked about. Most of the adults still believed that children should learn how to raise Pokémon early, even if they couldn't leave town with their Pokémon partners and go on journeys for six more years. Still, they trained, and many kids were particularly good trainers. Eric was one of the best in town, but he didn't battle the other kids ever. He battled wild Pokémon on the edge of town, and studied to learn about all different types of Pokémon. But his pacifist streak was about to break.
Eric was on his way to the Pokémon Mart to buy a few supplies when he heard kids yelling. It wasn't the good kind of yelling, either. It sounded like the kind of yelling incited by Mack.
Mack was a 14 year-old boy (emphasis on boy) known among the younger kids (and some of the adults) as a bully and wild child. His parents were somehow completely oblivious of the fact that he regularly terrorized the other kids in town, and had pretty much started a street gang of his own, though it only consisted of three people. He was a somewhat skilled trainer for a 14 year-old, though watching him battle had pointed out several flaws in his strategies to Eric, specifically that he had incomplete knowledge of type matchups, and never used status moves. His two flunkies, Dillon and Casey, were even less competent, nothing more than willing servants of a guy who would otherwise bully them, too.
Eric dashed toward the hot springs to find an unsurprising, yet still terrible sight. Backed against the wall was Thomas, a boy who had recently turned ten and received a Bidoof as his first Pokémon. Thomas wanted to be a coordinator one day, which was more than enough ammunition for Mack, since Contests were "only for girls," as he so eloquently put it. The Bidoof didn't really help, either. Eric was never one to think a Pokémon was useless, but he secretly considered Bidoof to be as close as it gets. Mack's gang was far less subtle about it. Bidoof was in bad shape, too, unconscious and limp in Thomas' arms. Thomas tried feebly to protect the injured Pokémon, but the three bullies were closing in.
"Charmander, scratch!" Mack's Charmander leapt into the air and slashed down, slicing not only the unconscious Bidoof, but Thomas' arms as well. He cried out in pain, sobbing to be left alone. Eric's fists clenched as he suddenly dashed forward...
"Squirtle! Tackle! NOW!" At the sharp command, Squirtle raced forward, but Liligant was prepared and artfully dodged, spinning out of the way with a perfect pirouette. "Reverse direction! Rapid spin!" Squirtle was a little off-guard, however and the attack missed again, costing Eric more points.
"What's Eric doing?" Rachel asked no one in particular.
"I think he's getting frustrated," Nate responded. "His attacks are getting more aggressive and less precise. Squirtle's feeling uneasy, too. He needs to focus or he's going to lose this."
But Eric wasn't backing down. "Use..."
"...Transform!" Instantly, Ditto warped its DNA into an exact copy of Charmander. Eric and Ditto stood between Mack's gang and Thomas, still huddling against the outer wall of the hot springs.
"Oh, the nerd's gonna fight? You never fight! You're so weak 'cause you never train!" Mack's taunts fell on deaf ears as Eric analyzed the situation.
Mack's Charmander has trained a lot, but Mack doesn't use any moves except Ember and Scratch. It probably also knows Smokescreen and...okay, got it. Then there's Dillon's Geodude and Casey's Treecko. All three of them against me... but I have a plan. He glanced back briefly at Thomas, who was trying to wipe his tears away. I'm tired of standing by the sidelines...
"We're taking this loser down! Ember!"
"Tackle!"
"Absorb!"
"Ditto, Smokescreen, go!" Ditto flooded the small battlefield with black smoke. The other Pokémon started coughing.
"Dirty trick, you wimp!" Mack yelled. "Fight us you stupid girl!"
But the smokescreen was all Eric needed to even the odds. "Ember to the right!" A burst of tiny flames exploded from the smoke, and Treecko landed a small distance away, unconscious.
"Metal Claw to the left!" A piercing scratching noise, and Geodude rocketed out of the battle arena, unconscious as well.
Mack was shocked, to say the least. "Hey! I thought you could only use moves I have!"
Eric had lost his temper at this point. "Are you really this stupid?!" he demanded. "Of course I can only use moves you have. Which means, if I can use Metal Claw..."
"...why didn't anyone tell me?!" Mack demanded.
The smoke began to clear from the field. "Learn to crack a book, you idiot."
Eric clenched his fists harder as the memories flooded back. "Squirtle... use... uh..." The words weren't coming. But Giséle was certainly not shy.
"Lilligant, use Magical Leaf!" As the colored leaves raced toward Squirtle, Eric stammered, wanting to tell Squirtle to withdraw. But he missed his window of opportunity, and his anger only grew.
"Squirtle...attack! Use, uh, Water Gun!" His lack of conviction was evident, as more points were deducted. He was running out of time...
"What are you going to do? Attack me with my own Charmander?" Mack asked.
"First of all, he's not your Charmander, it's my Ditto," Eric clarified. "Secondly, I probably could, since I apparently know your Charmander better than you." Mack grit his teeth, but Eric continued. "But no, I don't think I'll do that." Eric looked behind at Thomas, who seemed to be recovering a little, though Bidoof was still hurt. "Ditto, Transform into Bidoof!"
The small Charmander warped into the Plump Mouse Pokémon, eliciting a riotous laugh from Mack. "You can't beat my Charmander with that runt!"
"I'm not bothering with small talk anymore. Ditto, Defense Curl!"
"Charmander, Metal Claw!" Charmander raced forward as Ditto balled up and increased its defense power. The strike hurt, but wasn't critical.
"Ditto, Rollout!" His strategy was complete. Ditto curled up and took the form of a rock, and knocked Charmander pretty high into the air. It landed with a thud on the ground, unconscious. Mack yelped and pulled Charmander back into its Poké Ball, too stunned to speak.
Thomas was about to cry again, but this time from joy. Eric turned around and said, "No time for that, get to the Pokémon Center now." Teary-eyed, Thomas nodded and bolted for the red-roofed building.
"You cheated..." Mack said. "You cheated! You couldn't beat me like that!"
Eric furrowed his brow. "How? How could I have cheated?"
Mack was angry. "I don't know, but you had to! Bidoof can't beat my Charmander!"
Eric scoffed. "Please. You don't know half of Charmander's moves, and you don't even know type matchups. Rollout is a rock-type move whose power is doubled after using Defense Curl. Fire types are weak to Rock. It's simple."
Mack didn't like being talked down to. "You little- I'll show you!" He raced forward, fist balled.
Later...
"You see what he did?!" Mack's mother demanded, pointing to the scrape mark on Mack's bared torso. "You child is irresponsible!"
"He's lying!" Eric yelled. "He attacked Thomas, his Charmander scratched his arm! Then he attacked me, and Ditto was trying to defend me, and he only used Tackle and..." Eric's mom put a hand on his shoulder, urging him to calm down.
"You see?!" Mack's mom demanded. "He's always lying about my boy! Mack is too gentle, he'd never hurt anyone! Thomas' scratch could have come from anywhere."
Eric's mom furrowed her brow. "Mrs. Aldric, why is it you're the only person in town who doesn't notice that Mack is the town bully?" she asked.
"That's nothing but lies," she said, holding firm to her delusion. "All of you small-town people are just jealous because my family is so much more successful. You'll say anything to make us look bad."
"You don't need our help," Eric's mom said calmly, which only irritated Mack and his mother more.
"I should call the Pokémon League to confiscate your underage son's Pokémon!" she threatened. "That would teach you."
Eric tensed up, but his mom kept a hand on his shoulder. "Oh really?" Eric's mom asked. "And what would they say about your son's Charmander? The one whose claw marks will almost certainly be the same size and spacing as the scratches on Thomas' arm? What a coincidence that would be! But then again, you'd just pay them off so you can continue your fantasy that your delinquent son won't spend most of his life in prison." Now she was losing her temper.
The woman spewed profanity for a few seconds before grabbing her son's shoulder. "This isn't over, you little..."
"...loser!" A cry from the crowd snapped Eric out of his daze. Some Giséle supporter had decided to go on a verbal offensive. Squirtle was losing, Liligant was winning, Eric wasn't focused, and Giséle was on a streak. He was tempted to recall Squirtle and just bow out. But he couldn't really do that, could he? It wouldn't be fair to Squirtle... not that Eric's lack of focus was particularly fair to him in the first place. The Tiny Turtle Pokémon was breathing heavily, exhausted and lost.
"Well, we only have 30 seconds left on the clock! It looks like this battle is almost over! Can Eric and Squirtle make a comeback?"
"Come back!" Eric screamed, tears in his eyes. He raced forward but was blocked by a tall man from the Pokémon League. Another man had taken Ditto's Poké Ball, promising that he would take care of it until Eric was 16.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we didn't find a Charmander when we searched their estate," the man said to Eric's mother. "Between you and me, I'm sure they sent it away long enough for the search, but my hands are tied. I'm afraid they've won this round." He looked down at Eric and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, but I promise-"
Eric jerked away, out from under the man's hand and bolted upstairs, slamming the door so hard, he thought it would knock off the hinges.
The man sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "This is the worst part of the job, ma'am. I'm really sorry it has to be this way. For what it's worth, though, we'll keep an eye on them. If that Charmander really has attacked another little boy..."
"...not fair to him that he was just defending..."
"...because he was trying to help me..."
"...guess I won this time, you nerd..."
"...guess I won this time..."
"...guess I won this time!" Giséle said as Squirtle dropped to the ground. The judges had called it. Giséle had won the Contest Battle. Eric muttered, recalled Squirtle to its ball, and walked backstage.
In the prep area, Eric loosened his tie while staring at Squirtle's Poké Ball. Why did it bother him so much? Sure, he'd lost Ditto for three years, but he'd gotten him back. Isn't that all that mattered?
No. Eric was still angry. He was aggressive. All those thoughts had caused him to lose because he couldn't control his emotions.
Eric walked into the men's locker room and removed his vest and shirt. He stared, for a moment, in the mirror. A large scar sat on his upper arm, near his right shoulder. It was very prominent and distinct, and the reason why Eric never wore tank top shirts. He longer he stared, the angrier he got, so he finally put his street clothes back on, packed his gear, and walked out of the room.
Giséle was waiting for him. No congratulatory or consolation remarks from her, of course. Just smugness. "You know, if you had just listened to me in the first place, I could have really given you some pointers..."
Eric walked up to her and stared her directly in the eye. His face was cold, angry, and scary. His eyes were wide as he stared directly into hers, causing her to lose her train of thought and become anxious. He stared for what felt like forever to her until he said, "Congratulations." With that, he turned and walked out of the preparation area.
Giséle started breathing again as he walked away. "Wow. If looks could kill..."
