Giovanni stood stock still.
"Did you find anything?" Inari asked impatiently. She crossed her arms, glaring down at him.
Silently, Giovanni shook his head "no." He glanced down at his uncomfortably tight body. He saw the corner of a white bow. Giovanni's mouth—or his new body's mouth—hung open in horror. I'm in a pokémon's body?! He gasped but the sound came out like tinkling chimes. He put his hands to where his ears should be and felt long, ribbed structures instead. His heart pounded so hard he could hear the echos in his spherical head.
Inari turned away from him. "You know, Sentinel, I often find myself wondering if you're too old for this job." She looked up. "It's a simple task. There must be hundreds of rich men and women in the area who are asleep right now." She glanced back at Giovanni, her glasses shining, looking opaque in the florescent light. "Yet, you were so much better at this when you were still a Gothorita. Would you like to retire, Sentinel?"
Used to be Gothorita... so I'm a psychic-type... Giovanni took a few steps backward. He looked left and right searching for an exit. There was only one door in the small grey room. It was on the wall across from him, and it was made of metal and had no markings. Damn it, that wench is blocking it! Not that I'd know how to open it with these tiny useless hands anyway. He shook his head again.
"I see." Inari put her hands in her labcoat's pockets. She took out a pokéball and held it up. "Then I'll have to replace you by force. I had this pokémon imported from Kalos, Sentinel. It's said to have the most compelling hypnotic powers of any pokémon, but I can't trust word of mouth." She frowned. "If you can knock it out, I'll let you keep your place on my team. Otherwise, you've seen exactly what I do to ineffective pokémon."
Giovanni steeled his body and held his hands up like he was ready to grapple. Inside he felt like a derailed train falling off a mountain. How am I supposed to know how to fight as a pokémon?! What moves do I know?! All right, who in the PWT owns a Gothitelle... some leader from Hoenn? Giovanni reached into the recesses of his mind trying to remember the capabilities of that pokémon.
Inari tossed her pokéball. It rolled along the ground and burst open in front of Giovanni. The flash and the noise made him jump. The pokémon that materialized was exactly Giovanni's current height, but the constantly jiggling tentacles on its head and its beady eyes gave it the aura of evil. Instead of a mouth, a hot pink, jagged beak protruded from its face. It had longer, white tentacles for arms that ended in blade-like fins.
Giovanni let out another tinkling cry. What... is that thing? It looks aquatic... it must be psychic/water-type. Now how do I use a move?!
"Malamar, use Night Slash!" Inari pointed to Giovanni. Malamar pulled a bladed tentacle back and it became encased in an opaque shadow. Giovanni dove to the right knowing full well what was coming. He wasn't fast enough. His body was too bottom-heavy and he tripped, slamming into the cold hard floor. He covered his disproportionate huge eyes in terror. Malamar thrust its tentacle forward and slashed Giovanni's abdomen like it was using a scythe. He screeched as his body was tossed like a rag doll and he slammed into the wall. He slid to the floor and felt the pulsing pain in his side. Reluctantly he touched the wound, but there was no sign of injury or blood even though it felt like he had been torn apart. He shut his eyes tight.
Giovanni, shaking from the red-hot pain, put his hands to the appendages on his head. Die, die, die, die! he chanted to himself. He felt anger burning through him, a charge coursing after it wherever it went. Suddenly his eyes flew open and a blast of electricity shot from his head. The crackling blast hit Malamar right between the eyes. Malamar slouched as electricity sparked in its body, but after only a few seconds it stood back up and shook off the attack.
"Hm... that's more of an effect than I would have expected. Maybe it was a critical hit." Inari adjusted her glasses. "Malamar, use Hypnosis and make her fall asleep.."
Malamar isn't water-type?! Giovanni glared. By this point he felt like he was buzzing with adrenaline, his pain repressed. He struggled to his feet, leaning against the wall for support. That's it. I'm going to tear this hideous abomination apart, then use my psychic power to take those tentacles and tie them around Inari's neck until blood gushes from her every orifice! He brushed his abdomen off. Malamar's psychic pulses rushed toward him and Giovanni just kept glaring. The energy resonated throughout the room. Giovanni pressed through the fuzzy feeling even as his vision blurred. The hypnotic vibration seemed to last for hours. When it eventually stopped, Giovanni was left with a ringing in his head, but he had resisted.
"How is that possible?" Inari was taken aback. "Have I underestimated you? Malamar, use—"
Giovanni clapped his hands together. A pink and purple glow formed between them, and with a mere thought the glow shot forward in an energy beam that struck Malamar. With a shriek, Malamar fell backward, unconscious.
Mouth agape, Inari slowly picked up Malamar's pokéball and returned the pokémon to it. "Now... why can't you use that energy when you're finding people to suck dry?" Inari scowled down at Giovanni, whose death glare hadn't faltered. "If my pokémon were working at this level all the time, I'd be able to brainwash anybody I wanted, whenever I wanted!" Inari's eyes grew wide as she looked up at the ceiling. "Forget stealing their money. I could have an entire army of slaves!"
Giovanni charged at Inari, but without even noticing, Inari took out another pokéball and pressed its button to return Gothitelle. Giovanni skidded, trying to stop, but it was too late. The beam from the pokéball touched him, and he dematerialized, his senses fading away. He blacked out.
Giovanni was lying on his side, resting on frigid metal. He could hear the whirring and the intense buzzing of electronics and he knew he had to get up, but he just wanted to sleep. Maybe I am the world's strongest trainer after all... battling as a pokémon myself. But it's probably been done by some crazy monk or something. He scowled, his good mood dead. And now I'm going to make sure my pokémon never get knocked out again. Damn it, even my successes make life harder!
"That is a very egocentric view," said Cyrus. "Even if your effort causes you distress, it does not necessarily affect others the same way. To only reach goals that affect yourself is cowardly, and not knowing how your actions affect others is foolish." Cyrus's voice sounded muffled.
Giovanni groaned. He didn't feel any pain from the battle, and yet he felt too exhausted to move. "How can you talk like that after what you put me through?" his words came off far less threatening than he intended.
"What do you mean by that?" Cyrus asked. "I experienced everything you felt, albeit with a disconnect. Besides, you agreed to this experiment."
"What do you mean? You were just listening, weren't you? You weren't the one inside that pokémon's body!" Giovanni rolled over onto his other side.
"Of course not. For me, the psychic link is only working one-way. The effect isn't strong enough for me to lose all sense of individuality, but I can visualize everything you think." Cyrus was still sitting in the swivel chair wearing the headset as before, but instead of just leaving the device on the floor, he was holding the circuitry in his lap. Jet black wires coiled around his body. To Giovanni's horror, Cyrus had wires hanging off his neck, leading to a sparking plug which he was holding in his mouth. Cyrus's eyes were dim but he looked otherwise completely content. He looked down at Giovanni, his eyes shaded by the headset. "...You're disturbed by the adjustments I made. I can feel your heart rate increasing and the sting of cognitive dissonance. Why? By wiring myself right into the console, I have eliminated the part of the electric-type pokémon. This is far more practical."
Giovanni pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the fatigue bearing down on him. "When I said you were a machine I didn't mean it literally, you fool! Take those things off before you kill yourself!" Giovanni rushed over to Cyrus and started pulling the wires off of his body. "Don't tell me, you never even learned to not use a hairdryer in the shower?"
Cyrus's eyes narrowed. He did not resist as Giovanni pushed the last few wires to the floor. "I do not understand. I've read the most pertinent material related to psychic linking... and this is a perfectly viable method. It can't be much worse than staring at a computer monitor for around ten hours..." he said sluggishly. "I've been doing that since I was eight years old."
Righteous anger permeated Giovanni's mind like a solar storm. His face contorted as if he had been scorched by a red hot poker. "You... no wonder you're a sociopath! You've destroyed your own mind!" He slammed his fist into the console behind Cyrus. The metal rang like a frightened Bronzong.
Cyrus looked at the wires lying on the floor. "I suppose I don't need to continue this now. After all, I understand this program's goal." He removed the USB-like plug from his mouth, but he left his headset on. "I'm curious. Why are the symptoms of your mental disorder exacerbated in my presence, Giovanni?"
Giovanni took a step back. "What are you talking about? I'm not insane, you idiot! You're the one who's insane here, as this little display just proves!" He gestured to the wiring.
"Right now, you are shouting at me angrily, obviously. Yet the thoughts of yours that I can make out sound anxious and pulsing with alarm. What I mean is, why does your splitting behavior become more intense around me? Around others you remain uniformly frustrated, without rapid shifts in your moods. That is uncharacteristic of Borderline Personality Disorder," Cyrus said in monotone.
Giovanni sighed and tilted his hat down. "You're hopeless. I already told you that I don't have BPD. If you can't remember more than a few hours back, I can't help you." How can he be so smart and so ignorant at the same time? he wondered.
"...Ignorant? Of course not. And I remember very clearly. You punched me in the face after indicating that this destructive pattern occurs in your interpersonal relationships. That is just more evidence that you are mentally unstable. Though there may not be any single cause... never mind, I suppose..." Cyrus looked at the floor and paused, as if he was in the middle of figuring out a complicated mathematical equation.
Giovanni turned away, ready to open the door. "You're not making sense, as usual, but that doesn't matter. Let's go." That idiot. Cyrus can't think it's his place, piling more troubles on me like that. I shouldn't have to waste my time stopping him from hurting himself, thought Giovanni. How unfair. I wouldn't have started to care if I hadn't been forced to waste all this time with him.
"...Wait, what was that?" Cyrus asked quietly.
"Are you going deaf? I said let's go." Giovanni heard Cyrus rise from the chair and looked back. He saw Cyrus was standing up straight, holding the psychic-link device. Cyrus had finally removed the headset, which he had put down on the console. He was standing very still, his head slightly down. He was glaring at Giovanni with a soul-stealing look in his eyes so arresting it could freeze.
"What is it?" Giovanni felt like he was stuck in a crosshairs, but he kept his voice level.
"So that is source from which your emotional fluctuations all stem—nothing but vacuous sentimentality... I should have known you were like all the others." Cyrus took a step forward. "That's what it's been the whole time. You pretend to have knowledge, but you're nothing but another useless consumer. No—worse. A useless consumer wearing the skin of someone more wise. You cannot even admit that your anger is born of affection and insecurity. You're a degenerate form of an already-broken reality."
"What?! What are you talking about?!" Giovanni shouted. "Why would I admit to anything? I don't care about anyone! I tried to kill myself, isn't that clear enough already?!"
Cyrus's facial muscles twitched. He took a few steps to the right, like a predator circling weakened prey. "There you go again. That's all you do. Use a defense mechanism. How did I not notice? Was I deluding myself?" He paused.
Giovanni put his hands up, as if he were trying to push Cyrus away from a distance.
"One thing is for certain—I will make you regret ever paying heed to your heart!" He threw the psychic-link device. It hurtled in a straight path toward Giovanni's face.
Giovanni leaped to the right and the device crashed onto the door. The sound of metal on metal startled him, leaving Cyrus enough time to reach for his throat. Giovanni blocked his hands but Cyrus grabbed onto his wrists instead. They were both pushing against each other, unable to move forward. Giovanni was smaller, but far better trained. "Cyrus, I don't want to hurt you!" he snapped.
"That's your problem!" Cyrus was shaking now, sweat dripping down his face. He suddenly stopped pushing back, and Giovanni faltered. Cyrus sharply turned and kicked Giovanni's left knee.
Fortunately for Giovanni, his leg was locked. He winced at the sharp pain. This is the last straw! he thought. Cyrus pulled back his arm and threw a punch at Giovanni's temple. Giovanni did not move out of the way, but just held up his elbow, and Cyrus's fist struck its point. The effect was instantaneous. Cyrus recoiled in pain. While he was incapacitated, Giovanni grabbed Cyrus's left arm and leaped forward. Unable to remain standing, Cyrus fell backward and smashed into the console. The impact of his head broke one of the computer screens and sent shards of glass flying in every direction. It sounded like a miniature car crash.
Cyrus turned his head to the side, his neck limp. Bright red blood dripped down his face from little cuts. He breathed heavily.
Giovanni glared down at him. "Don't try anything else, or I'll send out Clefable and tell it to take a piece of glass and slit your throat."
Cyrus swallowed hard and looked up at Giovanni. "...Now you'll steal my pokémon, no doubt. I see now... that I shouldn't have underestimated you..."
Giovanni put his hands in his pockets. "I see what this was all about, Cyrus. Does being cared about scare you? Is being alone what your entire straw-nihilistic worldview was built around, and I just destroyed it?"
Cyrus tensed up and bared his teeth, but said nothing.
"You know what? I might not have been fooling anybody, Cyrus, but neither were you." Giovanni's glare got even darker. "Now there's only one thing I can do."
"...I can at least face this with dignity..." Cyrus said in monotone. He closed his eyes, waiting for a finishing blow. After a few seconds of not hearing anything or feeling any pain, he opened his eyes again. Much to Cyrus's surprise, Giovanni had done absolutely nothing but simply hold out his hand.
"Here. Get up," said Giovanni.
"I-I'm unable to fight back... I was ready to kill you... and you're giving me another chance?! That is not... that isn't..." Cyrus stammered.
"It isn't logical, you mean? I'm only doing this because nobody else bothered to care about you before. Don't think it's for any reason other than that." Giovanni smiled softly.
Cyrus's expression went back to being utterly cold and emotionless. "That is an incredibly unconvincing denial. You're showing signs of splitting again."
"Splitting? Splitting?! I-I'll split your head open! Get up now before I change my mind, you sociopath!" Giovanni yelled, his face red.
Cyrus leaned forward and took his hand.