Chapter 8
Funnily enough, escaping the Gym was a lot easier than one might think.
Chili had interrupted him earlier when he was stripping Omondi's uniform. At the time, he'd thought the biggest problem would be dragging the two unconscious people out of a burning building inconspicuously through the crowd of evacuees, all while somehow posing as an officer in one of their uniforms.
Now, without the threat of a burning building, he only had to worry about getting himself out. Really, in a twisted sort of way, Chili showing up and sending the fire to hell, then bending his mind into pretzels with fucking devil's wind, was actually helpful.
Maybe if he told himself that enough times he'd believe it.
Finding an exit that wasn't the main one was a little difficult at first, but Black remembered that this place was also a restaurant, which meant food shipments likely came in somewhere where there was easy access to the kitchens. After walking through the traditional double doors, his theory was proven correct as he passed by knives, bowls, and ingredients. The first door he saw with the EXIT sign above took him to a hallway that let out to a loading dock area, where there were only a few people a few yards away milling about and looking towards the building.
One of them, a middle-aged man with a wobbly chin and what looked like dried egg on his nose, immediately spoke up when he caught sight of Black, uniform and all. "Officer, is everything alright?!"
Black just put on a confident face and hoped none of them thought to question why someone so young was wearing a League official's uniform that looked a little too large. "Not to worry, not to worry." He said with the best authoritative voice he could manage. He motioned for them to move back, farther from the Gym. Nevermind that some of these people were possibly three times his age, he just hoped the uniform was enough to sell the image. "Your Gym Leaders have everything under control."
"What happened?" This time a willow-haired woman spoke up. "Is anyone hurt? I heard some of the customers scream."
These were probably the people who had been working in the kitchens at the time of the attack, then, judging by the various uniforms they each wore. They probably hadn't even seen the damage done if that's all they got before evacuating. Black briefly considered telling them a slight alteration to the truth but opted not to. The more he said, the less that would be corroborated if these people ever got the full story from the news, which would only raise suspicion of the officer who told everyone something different.
"I'm not at liberty to say." He finally decided on. "I would rather not give a statement without conferring with my superior. Speaking of which, I should do so now."
With that, he strode purposefully through the small crowd of people.
"Looks a mite young, doesn't he?" One of them said when he was a little ways away. They probably thought he couldn't hear them.
"Wonder why he has that pack-"
He didn't hear the rest because Black took off as fast as possible as soon as he turned the corner. He wasn't very fast, especially considering the lingering effects of the Ominous Wind and the fight in the smoke-filled room, but it was better than walking and it was certainly much better than letting himself think.
His chest complained, his head hurt, and everything in his body seemed to audibly creak with every footfall, but soon enough the pain faded and the adrenaline took over once more. He ran without purpose and without aim. Well, not entirely. Though it almost physically pained him, Black made sure to stay away from where the Pokemon Center was. They would almost certainly be on the lookout for him there and at any other League-sponsored areas.
After an indeterminable period of time he pulled into an alley and leaned against the wall. He gave the area a quick once-over to make sure there weren't any stray onlookers and the pulled out his X-transciever. He tuned-
-daRkdarkDARkdarkaka-
Gripping his head, Black swore and closed his eyes, concentrating on anything else other than the inky blackness that was his childhood bedroom at night. The urge to punch something was strong, even though he knew it was useless. He didn't care that the Chandelure went easy on him and Xanatos. There was a reason he'd suppressed his fears as he did.
After making sure that he wasn't going to start reminiscing on things better left forgotten, he brought his attention back to the X-transciever on his wrist. He turned it on and made sure to tune it to the local channels instead of the videophone function it was popularized for.
An image came up on the holo-screen, faded and full of static (was the device broken?); it showed what seemed to be a woman, maybe in her mid-twenties, in a professional white suit in front of the now evacuated Striaton Gym.
"-imated thousands in property damages. As of now there is no word on the number of injured and/or dead or their conditions. Firefighting Pokemon teams have been dispatched and are currently in the process of-"
Dead. The word hung in his mind before the teen shook it off. Chili hadn't said anything about anyone dying. The woman was just speculating. She had to be.
'Then again,'a nasty voice whispered in the back of his mind, 'he was a little busy trying to apprehend you wasn't he? He didn't have time to take stock of the extra-crispy.'
He returned his attention to the newscast.
"-eague officials have not yet issued a statement regarding the incident- h-hold on a second! Is that Chili?" The woman had turned towards the Gym, where it looked like a man was walking out, his arm in what seemed to be a crudely constructed emergency sling. It was a difficult to see the picture though.
The camera shook as both the cameraman and the anchorwoman jogged towards the injured Gym Leader. "Chili! Chili! Could tell us what happened here? Were you involved in the incident?"
The screen zoomed up close to Chili's face. The static was pretty bad though- there were patches on the screen that were completely illegible. Nevertheless, the heat in the fire type trainer's voice was almost palpable. "Yeah, I was involved. Got myself a dislocated shoulder for the effort too."
"Oh my," the anchorwoman said, "Are you okay?"
"Stupid question, little lady." On screen, Chili grimaced. "But I'll live. I'm more worried about the customers who got caught in the crossfire."
There was some shouting off-screen. The view shook as it panned over to the side and settled on where several people were being pushed back by an officer finally rolling out some police tape. It sounded like someone was demanding to be let through.
"Where the hell were you guys!" Chili roared, suddenly in focus once more as he charged into view, advancing towards the crowd. "I really could have used your help in there!"
The image cleared up a little. From the crowd appeared Cilan and Cress, the man's brothers. Black had been wondering where they'd gone during the hot mess he'd just left.
The two-thirds of the Striaton Trio passed the cordoned off zone casually, no one bothering to stop them. Gym Leaders were high ranking officials of the Pokemon League, often times being called in when towns in their jurisdiction faced problems of a certain caliber. Judging by the damage done and the personal nature of the perceived attack, Black was honestly surprised they weren't leading the bloodhunt this very moment.
Chili met up with his brothers halfway. The fire-themed trainer was shouting, words flying at a mile a minute, and it looked like he could go on for a while, not even minding the dislocated shoulder. Suddenly Cilan stepped to the side and grasped Chili firmly, while at the same time Cress grabbed his dislocated arm.
"Don't you fu- GAAAH! CRESS YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
The anchorwoman was silent. People behind the police tape were staring at the trio now.
Cilan clapped Chili on the back, as if all was right with the world. Said brother had his back to the camera, but Black imagine he still looked mutinous. He then refrained from cursing on live camera and instead chose to gather his brothers closer. Cilan and Cress' face maintained their composure even as Chili likely relayed everything that had happened.
"Um...It seems that Gym Leaders Cilan and Cress are conferring with their brother about the situation." The anchorwoman brought a hand up to her earpiece. "I...I am receiving notice that the two of them were seen evacuating the customers at the time of the attack. Their brother Chili was last seen putting out the fires inside the building."
Black nodded. So far, nothing about him, which was good.
And as if just to spite him, Cilan a la Dente, Gym Leader, Grass-type specialist, and pretty boy extraordinaire turned towards the camera and gestured for them to come closer. Once the new reporting duo were up close he then said, "As of now, this matter is considered under investigation by the Unova Nation Pokemon League."
The reporter jumped on this statement like a Sharpedo on a Feebas. "Is the Pokemon League going to issue a statement regarding this matter any time soon? Do you have any suspects in mind?"
Cress spoke up this time, and the camera focused on on him, even as Black's holo-screen started to fill with more static. "We have a person of interest that we are looking into. He was involved in the incident, and we would like to question him regarding some vital points."
'Cress, you really are a son of a bitch.'Black couldn't help but think.
"He is a trainer that took the Gym challenge earlier today," the more soft-spoken of the brothers continued. "He has a Snivy, a Lillipup, and a Patrat, along with a Panpour that we believe may have been acquired under dubious circumstances."
He still had to talk to Candy about that, now that he thought about it.
"Was he the one who set the building on fire?" The anchorwoman asked, shoving the mic in front of Cress' face. The skepticism was clear in her voice. Black found that he really couldn't blame her. No member of his lineup suggested the kind of destruction and wanton damage evidenced on camera.
"No, no." Cress laughed the question off, even as Black swore the danger in his voice sharpened. "He's just a kid who got mixed up in a few things. He goes by Black, by the way. He's about-" The image faded to nothing as more static appeared and white noise drowned out the rest of what he was saying.
And then he heard the voice of one of the many people he did not want to see right now.
"Black?"
Black leapt away from the wall, and looked towards the alley entrance. Bianca stood there, her eyes wide and mouth agape as she stared at the space the holo screen of the X-transciever had occupied. He hadn't even noticed her arrival. How much had she heard?
"Hun….are you ok?" She asked tentatively, even as she seemed to unconsciously hold her bag defensively in front of her. "What happened?"
It just had to be Bianca who found him didn't it?
He mentally groaned even as he noticed her taking a step back. Was that fear or concern on her face, he wondered. Maybe both?
"Hey Bianca," Black greeted, trying and failing to look unconcerned. "How's it going? How's Monty?"
"The Center's taking of him. He's going to be okay."
"...how long have you been standing there?"
"About a minute after you turned down here." The blonde looked sheepish. "Saw you from down the street. Thought it might've been you."
The blonde girl smiled nervously as she reached into her bag for something. Black's heart sank, shattered and scattered in the wind as he realized his childhood friend was afraid of him.
"Everyone's looking for you, Black," Bianca said softly, her eyes unable to meet his, "Professor Juniper called me and Cheren asking if we knew where you were. We've been worried."
Liar. He could see her shaking, holding back tears.
"Daddy's really angry too." Bianca kept going, not even paying attention. "He said I had to go back home right away. Didn't want me associating with you anymore. And Monty…"
Black kept quiet as she talked.
"Monty is actually really hurt," Bianca's voice broke as she said this, "They said they have to keep him in observation for a few days. To make sure there's no permanent damage from the poison in his lungs."
So much for Montana being okay. Frankly, Black wasn't surprised. Cilan had done a number on her, and it had been serious enough for the E.R.S. to trigger. Black highly doubted the water-type was going to be back to full strength anytime soon.
Thoughts of the spunky Dewott reminded Black of Xanatos and the ugly burns the Snivy had sustained all over his body.
Regret started to well up in his gut, but he crushed it with the practised denial of an adolescent. Now was not the time to think about the what-ifs and could-have-beens.
Oh, Bianca was still talking.
"-and now it's all going wrong." She let out a despondent sigh. "It wasn't supposed to turn out this way."
A wave of unfamiliar emotion rose up in Black, something so foreign in his experiences with Bianca that it took him a moment to identify it.
Disgust.
After everything that happened, after the day they'd been having (one that he knew she was at least partially aware of considering how she didn't seem all that shocked by what was showing on the holo-screen earlier), after going through years of preparations and tests and warnings from Professor Juniper about the ups and downs of Trainer life, after who knows how many hours-long lectures and field work that left him, Cheren, and Bianca stranded on Route 1 with one sleeping bag and a handful of ghost stories...after all that she wanted to complain about how "it wasn't supposed to turn out this way?"
He had always known his female best friend was a little odd growing up. A little too naive and a little too soft for Trainer life (Cheren's opinion, not his), but never, not even those times she unintentionally broke his heart had he thought her to be selfish.
"I-I'm sorry," Black muttered, as he moved to exit the alleyway, "I just- I gotta' go."
He made sure to look at the ground, and not at her face. He didn't think he would be able to control his expression if he did.
As he passed her by, he saw her finally draw out her hand from her bag. For a moment, Black tensed, wondering if she was going to use mace on him or call the authorities. It was a toss-up as to which she'd go with as far as he could tell. And as much as he couldn't stand to be around her right now, he wouldn't force her to back down if she did think to try and stop him. It's not like she could chase after him in that dress of hers if he decided to run.
She took out a Full Restore.
'Huh.'
He stared. Those cost quite a pretty penny, as far as he recalled. And they were restricted generally only to those who were qualified to use them, League officials being the chief group amongst those.
She held it out to him.
"Daddy gets a shipment of these every now and then because of his work." She explained as she grabbed his limp hand pressed the healing item into it. His fingers grasped around it, and traced the edge of the small object. "I was hoping to use it on Monty during my Gym Battle, but...well, you saw how that turned out. I kinda lost my cool there."
He blinked, feeling moistness in his eyes gather. She had no idea of the kinds of treacherous thoughts he'd been having. Would she have done any different if she did? Probably not. That's just the kind of person Bianca was.
Her hug slammed into him. He was so taken aback he couldn't even muster the will to immediately return it.
She was all warmth, lilacs and softness. Her arms wrapped around his, her face nestled into his chest. He couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and leaning into the hug.
It reminded him of when they were kids. When the magic of the world remained magic, and the cruelty of reality was saved for the nightmares they only ever told each other about. It reminded him of cookies and a warm fireplace waiting for the m to return from their snowball fights. When it was still ok to not be as good as Cheren at some things for fear that he just might leave them behind. When Pokemon training seemed like fun, and not...this.
She felt so safe.
It was only then that Black let loose the longest breath he'd ever held.
A weariness not entirely unfamiliar to him settled upon him. It was the second time Black ever felt this way, the first being the minutes following the Herdier attack on Route 1. And that had already been one time too many.
"I don't know what happened," She spoke into his chest. Though he could not see it he was absolutely sure she was biting her lip in frustration. "But I believe in you, Black. And I'm not going to turn you in either, you stupid boy."
She released the hug and took a step back. One hand went up and pulled her bonnet down, enough to help cover her eyes as she kept them shadowed with her hair.
Black really wanted to say something. Something cool, something reassuring. Something that would finally put him ahead of Cheren in their stupid competition for her romantic affection.
"Thanks."
He was sixteen. He could be allowed moments of stupidity like this.
She nodded.
He fled.
End Chapter 8
Author Notes: Unreliable narrating is fun. So, Black's a fugitive and he's pissed off at least one high-ranking enemy. Oh dear.
