Chapter 9
"Hmm. Yep. Okay. Thank you. I'm really glad we could have this talk. Okay, bye."
Maylene hung up, putting her PokéGear away as Lucas walked into the Gym, still in uniform. The boy noticed as he approached that the Gym Leader seemed to have a tear in her eye.
"Anything wrong?" he asked as Maylene quickly wiped the tear away, realising what he was looking at.
"I… I just got off the phone with Candice," the Gym Leader admitted. "She and I… We haven't spoken for a while, so… I thought it was time to give her a call. I actually got quite a lot off my chest to her, and vice versa. We're meeting for coffee in Hearthome City next Wednesday."
"Sounds like the Fighting type expert is looking to… break the ice," Lucas said slyly, smirking at his lame pun. "You know, because Candice is an Ice type Gym Leader?"
"Hilarious," Maylene said, unamused. "And how about you, funny man? How was your day?"
Lucas' smirk immediately faded. "Don't ask," he said.
"Another weird day?" Maylene guessed.
"Weirder."
"Well, that's the Team Galactic workplace for you. Do yourself a favour and change out of that uniform."
"The usual spot?"
"The usual spot."
"Five minutes?"
"…Make it ten," Maylene told him. "I'm going to go… check on something."
"You're going to pick out your outfit for Wednesday, aren't you?"
"Oh, mind your own business," Maylene told him as she got up and walked away, her cheeks reddening slightly. Lucas gave a brief chuckle, returning to looking miserable once his hostess was gone. He then noticed that Maylene's PokéGear had fallen out of her back pocket, now resting on her Gym Leader podium. Lucas stared at it, an idea forming in his mind.
A few minutes later, Lucas was crouched in the corner of the kitchen, not wanting to be overheard as he punched a number into Maylene's phone. He held it up to his ear and waited. It was ringing.
"Hello, Mom? It's me, Lucas. I-" Lucas began hopefully, but his face fell when he heard not his mother's voice, but an operator's pre-recorded message.
"The person you have called is currently unavailable. Please try again later."
Lucas sadly hung up, his attempt to mend his ties with Johanna, who was essentially estranged to him by this point, proving to have been in vain. The boy then noticed Weavile standing by the fridge, a leftover Combusken drumstick held in its clawed appendage. The Sharp Claw Pokémon tilted its head, its tone curious and humbled as it spoke.
"Weavile?" it asked quietly.
Lucas hesitated. "Well, yes, I was trying to call Mom," he admitted, "But I couldn't get through to her. I guess she's not home… or something."
"Weavile," Weavile mused, starting towards its master, drumstick still in hand. It stopped before Lucas and stared up at him. "Weavile, Wea?" it asked, offering him the drumstick.
Lucas chuckled. "No, that's okay. You eat it. It'll do you more good than it would me."
"Weavile…" Weavile took a bite out of the cold Combusken leg, chewing with its mouth closed as it watched its Trainer carefully. After a moment, Lucas slumped down into a sitting position, letting out a sad sigh.
"I'm sorry, Weavile," he said. "I'm sorry I said all those things last night. I… I know things haven't been going all that great for us… or between us, for that matter, but I… I want to make things better. Really, I do. I just don't really know where to start."
Weavile hesitated, and then it came and sat down beside its master. "Weavile!" it declared with a small smile, giving Lucas a playful nudge in the arm.
"Maybe I already have just now? Thanks, Weavile," Lucas said, reaching behind the Dark/Ice type's head to gently scratch the fur under its crimson crest. Weavile closed its eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensation. Then it opened its eyes and took another bite out of the drumstick. It chewed and swallowed the meat, looking thoughtful.
"Weavile."
"It's missing something, you say? You read my mind," Lucas said knowingly, getting to his feet. He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a familiar jar filled with a familiar orange paste. Weavile grinned eagerly, prompting Lucas to smile in response.
A few minutes later, Maylene walked into the kitchen to find Lucas and Weavile snacking on an entire platter of leftover Combusken drumsticks, the pair taking turns to dip and double dip their respective snacks into the container of Tamato berry relish, looking like they were having the time of their lives as they sat there on the floor.
"Hey, you can't have that one! I wanted that one!" Lucas teased as Weavile picked up another drumstick. Weavile responded by dipping the drumstick into the sauce and then proceeding to cheekily rub the end of it against Lucas' cheek, smearing the orange paste all along the young man's face. Lucas laughed and pulled his Pokémon into a playful headlock. They then both became aware that the Gym Leader was watching them with a raised eyebrow, a devious smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.
"And here I am without a camera," she said mischievously. "Alright, which one of you messy eaters has my phone?"
Lucas picked up the PokéGear that had been resting on the floor beside him and tossed it to Maylene, who caught it smartly.
"You know what? No martial arts training tonight. Just seeing you two smiling and having fun for a change is good enough for me."
"Care to join us?" Lucas offered, gesturing to the food platter in front of them with his foot. "There's still a few drumsticks left. Better grab one now before a certain someone eats them all."
"Weavile! Wea, Wea!"
"Oh, come on, you know I'm just messing with you, buddy," Lucas told Weavile, giving the Dark/Ice type a friendly slap on the back.
Maylene shook her head in knowing amusement. "You two really are made for each other, you know that?" she said as she sat down with them. "You're both annoying, you eat like a pair of Munchlax, you're both annoying…"
"You said annoying twice."
"That's because you're twice as annoying as you are gluttons."
"Yeah, 'cause the big, bad Fighting type Gym Leader has never eaten like there's no tomorrow," Lucas exclaimed sarcastically. "You should've seen yourself chowing down on those noodles I made the other night! I watched you and thought, 'Is that Maylene, or did I accidentally leave the bowl of noodles in close proximity to a turbo-charged paper shredder?'"
Weavile burst out laughing at its master's comment, banging the drumstick it held against the floor in mirth, splattering relish everywhere.
"Hey, watch it!" Maylene exclaimed as some of the orange paste splattered on her bare arms. "Oh, to heck with it," she then decided as Lucas and Weavile both laughed at her expense. "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em." With that, she picked up a drumstick, rolled it back and forth along her arms to gather up the specks of sauce and then took a big, greedy bite out of the snack, chewing with her mouth open and letting out a small burp after swallowing. "Was that gluttonous enough for you?" she asked.
Weavile's only response was to let out an ear-splitting belch of its own, which drove the Pokémon and pair of humans into a fit of rambunctious laughter. None of them noticed Maylene's Lucario at the doorway, silently watching the group with its arms folded and a knowing smirk not unlike its Trainer's on its face.
As night fell over Veilstone City and the neon streetlights automatically began to flicker to life, a lone figure could be seen standing outside the Pokémon Centre, leaning casually against a section of the building's polished front wall, right next to the automatic double doors. She was dressed in a rather wild-looking black top branded with what looked like deep red crescent moons, with said symbols positioned directly over her moderate-sized breasts. Dark grey shorts that put the 'short' in short shorts garbed her lower body, a makeshift belt of deep crimson nylon rope keeping said shorts up, tied around the young woman's waist. Long, white socks that reached almost all the way up kept her legs warm in the cool evening air, yet her toes were exposed to the elements at the end of her dark grey footwear, which seemed to be a hybrid of boots and sneakers. A strange blue trinket was seemingly coiled around her right ankle. The most outlandish part of the girl's attire by far, however, was her cape.
Torn and even slightly charred in places, this ragged white cape was nonetheless stylish in a very rugged sort of way. It smelt faintly of smoke and brimstone, but that somehow just made it seem all the more cool and flashy.
Zinnia looked almost like an entirely different person out of her Team Galactic uniform. Her cyan wig gone, her shoulder-length deep black hair now hung freely down around her cheeks, her bangs making her seem mysterious in a decidedly captivating way. Her piercingly beautiful crimson eyes seemed to have lost some of their usual wild spark tonight, however, and her mouth had gone from a playful, almost feral smirk to a thin line that suggested boredom and a hint of bitterness.
With an exasperated sigh, Zinnia reached into the small pocket of her shorts and pulled out a lighter and a packet of menthol cigarettes, removing one of the thin white sticks from the box and placing it in the corner of her mouth. She lit the cigarette and took a cautious puff, letting her breath out in a wisp of smoke that was tainted with manmade chemicals. If Rayquaza could see her now, it probably wouldn't be too happy about her contribution to the hole in the ozone layer.
"It's been a while since I resorted to smoking one of these to wind down after a stressful day," Zinnia mused quietly. She sighed again. "Darn that Lucas. So caught up in his own miserable little bubble that he can't see the forest through the trees."
The young woman took another puff of her cigarette, letting out another wisp of smoke just as someone walked past. Zinnia noticed the man cover his nose and mouth with his hand as he went. She was tempted to make a snarky quip, such as saying there was plenty more smoke where that came from, but she resisted the urge. She knew from experience that her outfit alone attracted enough attention by itself, and while Zinnia was no stranger to readily talking herself into, out of and right back into trouble again, she wasn't in the mood for any nonsense right now.
Another puff. Another wisp. The scent of menthol was starting to hang heavily on the air around her, and Zinnia, in her stubborn, moody state, was only too happy to inhale it straight back into her body through her nose, which might not have been her best idea, because the sharp intake of smoke sent her into a coughing fit. Zinnia hadn't been a smoker for all that long, so her cough hadn't yet developed that telltale throaty wheeze that signified severe lung damage, but even she knew, in that moment, that she was pushing her luck.
"Didn't taste very good anyway," the girl muttered as she threw the cigarette away. She then glanced around, soon spotting the Veilstone Department Store building not too far away. She placed a hand on her hip, staring at it thoughtfully. "I could use a mint after that, and maybe a Soda Pop," she decided.
The double doors of the department store slid open with a soft ding of a chime as Zinnia approached, and as she stepped inside, she let out a low, impressed whistle as she took in her surroundings. She hadn't been on a casual shopping spree since… well, ever. Her youth had been dedicated to the training that was tied to her Draconid heritage, so she hadn't really had time for leisurely pleasures. No, she'd had to make her own fun while still going about fulfilling her duty as a key factor in this sorry planet's continued existence, making light of the overwhelmingly pressuring circumstances of her life while staying true to her teachings and, by extension, her destiny nonetheless.
"Wow, this place is ni-i-ice," she trilled in that feigned lighthearted tone she was so used to using, that jaunty, almost bubbly facade that she imagined the staff of this very store had to put on every day for every run-of-the-mill slack-jawed hillbilly of a tourist that came lumbering in here looking for Pokéballs, Full Restores and directions to the nearest restroom. The very thought of working in a place like this filled Zinnia with disdain.
Not that working for Team Galactic was any better...
"Save it," the chosen Lorekeeper said as she approached the main service desk, holding up a hand to silence the clerk before she could offer up an undoubtedly well-rehearsed friendly greeting. "Just tell me if you guys sell any cold drinks."
"Well, we do have a couple of soda vending machines on the top floor. If you like, I could recommend-" the clerk began, but Zinnia was already striding away from her, approaching the elevator in the corner. A sign hanging on its red doors proclaimed that it was temporarily out of order, prompting the Draconid to bite back an irritable curse-ridden mutter that threatened to roll off her tongue. Her face a deadpan mask of coldness, she stepped onto the escalator opposite the lift and let it slowly, meticulously take her up to the next floor.
Unable to summon the energy to tap her foot impatiently, Zinnia stood as still as a statue until she finally felt her feet pressing against the metal flaps at the top of the escalator. Letting a glorified conveyer belt ferry her from one level of height to another was just… tedious, especially in comparison to soaring the skies on the back of a Salamence, the wind whipping at her hair, reaching up with her arm to put her hand in a could as she flew under it, feeling its moisture… Was this what normal people did, people who didn't have to spend every waking moment thinking about how they were going to one day stop a meteoroid from destroying the planet, thinking about how critical it was for them to birth a child at some point in their lives to continue the sacred Draconid bloodline, thus ensuring the world's very existence going forward?
Thoughts of Aster forcefully pushed their way to the forefront of Zinnia's mind and it was all she could do to clench her jaw and her eyes shut, to swallow the tortured, psychotic screams that threatened to burst forth from her mouth, to fight back the tears that threatened to flow nonstop. It was all she could do… to exercise discipline, to keep the madness that was her past, to say nothing of the emotions tied to it, under the surface where it belonged. It was, much like the very reason she had even been born in the first place, her burden to bear. No one else's.
Exhaling deeply, Zinnia opened her eyes and stepped off the escalator. She could feel her heart beating faster, but she'd be damned if she couldn't keep her breath steady and paced, her voice level and her demeanour calm. Her mouth was dry now. She really needed that soda.
Several mundane escalator rides later, Zinnia stepped up onto the roof of the building, feeling the night air around her once more. The whole city could be seen from up here, in all its neon glory, but it wasn't the view that garnered her attention.
The soda vending machines had a simple grey, rectangular design, their brightly coloured cans of fizzy drink awaiting Zinnia's pocket change behind windows of glass. It would be so easy to break that glass with a Pokémon's attack, or even by brute human force, but Zinnia kept as level a head as she could, put the stupid coin in the stupid slot, pressed the button for a Soda Pop…
…And a bottle of Fresh Water tumbled out.
With a furious roar, Zinnia snatched up the frontmost Pokéball she kept on her person, tossed it onto the ground and in a flash of white light, the towering figure of a certain Dragon/Flying type Pokémon took up much of the space on the department store's roof. The great creature flexed its red wings, the blue scales that covered its body glinting in the moonlight.
"SALAMENCE, USE DRAGON TA-!" Zinnia began, but stopped when she realised what she was doing. She gazed around, spotting a lone figure sitting on a bench at the far side of the rooftop. He seemed to be cast in shadow, but the Lorekeeper was sure he was looking at her. His stature was motionless. Zinnia sighed heavily, bending down to pick up Salamence's Pokéball. "Salamence, return," she said dully, recalling the dragon in a beam of red light. Without another word, Zinnia fetched her water bottle from the chute of the vending machine, took a seat not too far away from the person in shadow, and sipped miserably at her plain, almost bland beverage. She let out another sigh as she sat there, gazing out at Veilstone City. "Lucas," she muttered, her crimson eyes showing loathing at the very mention of his name.
Then, after a brief moment, her eyes softened and she chuckled sadly.
"Oh, Lucas," she said, shaking her head knowingly before turning her gaze to the stars above. "We're quite a pair, you and I."
Out of the corner of her eye, Zinnia noticed the man in shadow get to his feet. She watched him as he started to walk by…
And then the man, now in clear view, stopped dead in his tracks, turned and stared straight at Zinnia, unmoving, his eyes hidden behind the futuristic visor that was connected to his cybernetic blue and white helmet, a strand of purple hair hanging down over his forehead.
Normally, Zinnia would've had some sort of quip prepared, such as, "Take a picture! It'll last longer!" But right now, she didn't dare move, didn't dare break eye contact with this bizarrely dressed stranger who seemed to be staring at her so intently, as though he were gazing into her mind from behind that visor, looking right through her crimson eyes and seeing her innermost thoughts, setting his sights on her very soul…
And then the man turned and walked away as though nothing had happened.
Zinnia stared after him several seconds after he was gone. She wasn't easily shaken, but something about that strange man had seemed… otherworldly. He had rocked Zinnia to her core for reasons she couldn't even begin to explain.
And she knew, even as she sat there taking another sip of water, that she was going to follow that guy. She was going to find out everything she could about him - who he was, what his deal was, why he was in this city…
And what it was about him that made the hair on the back of Zinnia's neck stand on end.
"Looks like the next chapter of my tale is finally beginning," she mused as she got to her feet, "Whether I want it to or not."
