"Hold still, Grandpa," the little girl said, pulling the old man's arms way-up behind his back. Without any indication, she hauled off and slammed her knee between his shoulder blades. This released a glorious, "Whaam—craaack!"
Lyra flinched—her face turning blue in horror.
"Ahh." Kurt sighed, standing up as if nothing had happened. "I just felt everything go back to the way it should be." Wobbling around to Lyra, he extracted a pokeball from his pocket. "Though you trashed my precious tea kettle AND Slowpoke Well," Lyra gulped as he said this, "you have my thanks for helping me out with Team Rocket. Here, have a fast ball." He brusquely shoved the pokeball into her hands.
"Hhh," Lyra muttered, turning it over and inspecting its perfectly polished surface. "Such craftsmanship! Is this REALLY made from an apricorn?"
"Obviously!" Kurt crossed his arms proudly, and then added, "and if you have any more apricorns, I can make pokeballs from them."
"Hoo-hah!" Lyra chortled, opening her bag. "That's great, because I've been hoarding them." She scooped out an armful and a good many flopped out all over the floor. "How advantageous it is," she stated, "to have this many 'corns in one's life."
Kurt folded his arms, his brow wrinkling at the sheer number. "It'll take a day..." He watched his little granddaughter laugh and chase after them with Lyra. "So you should get some rest for the night."
Morning broke, and when the chilly air settled further, Lyra pulled her blankets tight, shivered, and squirmed across the futon in search of Quilava. Locating his soft and warm, fuzzy rump, she curled around it for warmth. She was disturbed, moments later, when his hind leg activated and rapid-kicked her in the face. Fidgeting and turning, exhausted by her troubled sleep, she finally sat up—disoriented by the unfamiliar dining room around her. Momentarily brain-dead, she gazed out the front window—and for a brief second, a reddish blur moved from beyond its frame.
"Hrgf...! What was that?" Lyra garbled to herself, wondering what that POSSIBLY could've been. Hearing a strange sound behind her, she broke out into a cold sweat and turned around. There, she came face to face with the resident Slowpoke. His large eyes and tiny pupils stared at her truthfully, and with a gaping mouth, he gurgled low and birthed a low yawn. Lyra, in turn, let out a surprised, "BEH?"
"He's thanking you," the little girl explained, popping out from the adjoining room and then diving onto the futon; she hugged Slowpoke. "When he yawns like that, it means he's being thankful."
"Really? Seems like he's just being plain unassertive!" Lyra responded.
"Lyra, are you up? Come here, I finished the apricorns you gave me last night," Kurt yelled, calling her to his work table. Of course he'd woken-up awhile ago to finish them. Lyra fixed her bedraggled twin tails and pulled her cap back on—then hurrying over to find all nineteen of her apricorns laid out and converted into pokeballs.
"Go ahead and take them," Kurt said. "You're going off to Bugsy's gym now, right?"
Lyra piled the pokeballs into her bag before answering. "Hmhmhm!" She laughed at her feet. "In truth, late last night... after you all went to sleep..." She clenched her fists and threw back an arm. "We had the insatiable urge to battle!" Quilava's flames jumped.
"Hm!" the little girl said, clenching her fists as well. She was absorbing some BAD mannerisms.
"That's right!" Lyra continued, her teeth gleaming. "So, undaunted by the fierce balsamic winds, Lil' Bro and I cloaked ourselves in YOUR blankets—and I put on MY shoes, because he DON'T and somebody has to—and we walked. Outside! To the nearby gym," she rattled on, undaunted by her incorrect usage of the word 'balsamic', as well as their bedding. "Our minds were as one, solidified, and abducted by the midnight calling of destiny." She outstretched her fingers, almost it was if she were recounting the tale of how they'd descended into another world. Kurt's brow wrinkled again, but his little granddaughter was totally enthralled.
"The iron was hot and so we struck... a pose! They were still weak from Team Rocket's takeover, but such tactics are still a piece of the battlefield." Lyra wagged a finger instructively. "They say, thin enemy ranks when morale has evaporated! Such is the extreme way of the warrior." She twitched, repressing evil laughter. "Hnn... hrhrhrh!"
Quilava simply sniffed because he smelled the neighbor's cooking breakfast.
"There's something VERY off about this girl," Kurt muttered to himself, frowning with his very eyebrows (which was quite impressive). Soon afterward, he fixed breakfast, ate with everyone, and then watched Lyra and his granddaughter foolishly run around the house with random objects while giggling for unknown reasons. Figuring that Lyra was OK despite what he had witnessed earlier, Kurt nonchalantly welcomed her to drop by anytime in the future.
Lyra, promising the girl she'd come back and play sometime, set off once again, but lingered to observe the town in the daylight. Domestic Slowpoke wandered about peacefully—just as they used to—and the townspeople strolled through the streets. All were enjoying the returned quiet.
"A happy ending. For now," Lyra said, locking eyes with Quilava. "But I wonder where Team Rocket ran off to?" Earning a troubled snort from Quilava, Lyra led him for the gatehouse leading out of town. If I ever run into those criminals again... just what would they do to me? she wondered, gazing at the dark trees of the forest canopy past the gatehouse. Would they remember my face? Would they try to bar me, like the city beyond once had?
The forest waiting behind the gatehouse—lush and green—was the same one responsible for offering her dreams and wishes back when she had none.
Ilex Forest.
As fluttering Pidgey flew from its rattling leaves and swaying branches, Lyra once again felt soothed—protected by the murmuring cover of the forest and the little wooden guardian shrine at its heart.
Regret had splintered itself through her spirit ever since the day of her father's death. Because of it, she often wished to go back in time to change or relive things. Many times she'd thought, "If I could visit those days again, I'd want to watch my family as it were, endlessly." She knew it was impudent, but if it were possible, she wanted to ask for just one more blessing. If the forest guardian could defy time, like it did before, then...
Behind her, harsh footsteps and the crunching of earth alerted her.
"You now!" Lyra roared, her whole body on edge. "Back again, eh? Team Rockbutt? With all your reinforcements!" Spinning around, she eased-up when she saw it was only Silver. "H-huh. Jerkface?" She held her hand over her heart. "Phew! For once," she lazily closed an eye and chuckled, "I'm actually glad to see you."
"Glad?" Silver repeated, frowning at this foolish attitude she still held towards him. She can't be happy to see me... is this FOOL drunk or something? he wondered, thinking she ought to be more mindful of him. And what kind of stupid face is she making? She must be mocking me again!
"Yeah! 'Cause you know, you're not so bad," Lyra continued, crossing her arms, "compared to REAL, hardened criminals."
Silver gritted his teeth and placated the urge to shove her! And maybe lightly kick her! DON'T compare me to those cowards, he raged inwardly; you have no right to mention them and I in the same sentence! But as much as he wanted to say this aloud, he lost himself to the preservation of his cold outer image and so he stood there, silently, like the edgy poser he was. But does this mean that she DID see Team Rocket? So then, the incident at Slowpoke Well wasn't just a rumor... Tch, well never mind that. She'll pay for insulting me just now.
Silver slipped his hands into his pockets and leered into the distance. "It's astonishing," he stated. "You think you know what real criminals are like? Your insolence really is limitless. Everything you know about this world is just spit on the sidewalk... Humph. What an idiot."
"WHAT?" Lyra yelled and raved, waving her fists wildly at him; Quilava latched onto her right leg and weighed her down, struggling to hold her back. "You got a problem to settle! You wanna go? HUH? You unsqueezble lip zit! COME AT ME."
Silver laughed lowly at her reaction. He had been closely following Lyra ever since she beat the Azalea Town Pokemon Gym. Watching from one of the gym's high windows, he had seen her battle. It was one-sided, he recalled; Her team completely swept the gym trainers with single moves. It was true that her team had multiple type advantages over them—but somehow, she had managed to waste Bugsy's Scyther with some pathetic Bellsprout. A grass type.
The fool must've thought she was some hero.
He couldn't wait to crush that excessive ego she had amassed. To bring her back down to square one and make her feel that hopeless awful feeling of failure. To him, currently, there would be nothing more satisfying. And it would be valid revenge for the horrible anguish she had dealt him. Because, no matter how much he concentrated, her warm breath and sleeping face kept poisoning his mind, urging him to seek her out. To win against her!
Training endlessly in Union Cave, Silver could only think about the moment they'd meet again. And so I waited. Silver stood there and thought, his brain-dumping monologue afforded only by Quilava's heavy bum. After Lyra defeated Bugsy, she vanished back inside Kurt's house and slept. I could only sit outside and watch her. Yes. I had waited long hours in the cold, constantly checking through the window to see if she had woken up... plotting my revenge, biding my time, and now...
"Heh..." Silver emitted, smiling underneath the shadow of his lowered face. "Tell me something," he said. "Is it true Team Rocket has returned?"
Lyra's wrath subsided. "It's true," she said with unexpected seriousness. "Those criminals—the ones who threatened Kanto three years ago... I busted Slowpoke Well and beat them, but..." Lyra stopped, wondering if it was safe to reveal anymore information to him. After all, Professor Elm had warned her to keep her guard up, and furthermore, she didn't think the boy was quite yet a dependable ally of justice.
"...What? You? Beat them?" he snapped, his jealous irritation now apparent. "...Quit lying. Team Rocket is too big of an operation to be beaten by a wimp like you."
"Well now, Jerkface. You sound like a Team Rocket expert," she said, pulling out a pokeball. "So let's do a test, then. You just might be convinced of the truth!"
"Fine... let's see how weak you are," he said in anticipation. Rifling through his jacket pocket, he selected Gastly's pokeball and threw him into battle. "Get out there and crush them!"
"Let's go! Quilava!" Lyra exploded and raised her arms at the sky. "Show your foe the blinding embrace of passion, justice, and friendship!" And by that, she meant fire. "Accelerated Ember... Overdrive!"
"VA!" Quilava's voice raised with hers as he out-sped the ghost pokemon. Moving first, he slid under the wide-eyed ball of gas and torched it with Ember.
"Gaaaah!" Gastly groaned, besieged by those incredible flames and almost put out from the fight.
"No!" Silver yet, upset by this quick and unanticipated upheaval. "Are you kidding me? That is... y-you're so weak!" He held his forehead. "Damn it, make yourself useful and just off yourself with Curse."
Obeying his master, the Gastly summoned a pin, stabbed himself, and fainted.
Harsh! Lyra thought, taken aback by Silver's spitefulness towards his own comrade. I mean, I always knew he was a Jerkface, but... She thought he would've chilled-off after gathering a few pokemon and enjoying some adventures alongside them. All this time, his personality showed some deeper issues, but instead of worrying further, Lyra instead attributed it to the 'serious business' attitude held by most trainers.
Gastly's curse, a parting gift, loomed over Quilava and tormented him with all its ill intentions. "Quilava, come back!" Lyra said upon seeing this, switching to another pokeball. "Go Bellsprout!" she called.
"Croconaw!" Silver shouted at the same time. He scowled when he realized his bad choice. Damn it! I should've called out Zubat!
"Oh-ho your ancestors bathe us with good fortune, Bellsprout. Show me your spirit! There is no vice beyond the reach of your noodly vine!" Lyra cried; "Mega Vinewhip Attack–"
Uncurling his hidden tendrils, Bellsprout shook his leaves and shot his vines out—slapping and whipping Croconaw silly.
"Croconaw! You dud, hurry and bite him!" Silver screamed. No, this battle is going all wrong! he realized. All the other trainers fell so easily. I trained hard, so why is she...
"Bellsprout, we tough it out, then gun all out!" she exclaimed, raising a pointer finger in the air. "Do what you thought you couldn't like you know you could! That's how you FIGHT."
Bellsprout, torn by Croconow's biting jaws, fell back but then flopped back up. With his balance readied, just like it was at the start of battle, he shook his leaves in determination and focused his beady eyes.
Why does that weed look so recharged? Silver pondered in upset; He just got wounded! Does that stupid girl screw with her pokemon's heads, too?
"Thousand Arm Vinewhip Attack, shake him up—left two and right! Let's see him snap those jaws," Lyra blasted, beaming in violent excitement. She then made an ugly face and sucked through her teeth. "Hamon breathing." Bellsprout seemed to really get it.
Silver gawked at the scene. He was held powerless against the asininity occurring before him! What is she even telling her pokemon? he thought, unable to understand any of her anger-inducing speeches. Is she speaking in some kind of secret code?
Croconaw—whipped into a spin—twirled thrice before landing on his back, fainted.
Silver grunted furiously and grimaced so hard at Lyra's antics, his face nearly stuck as such. Recalling Croconaw, he sent out Zubat. "Say," he said to her, losing himself with the fight, "You've got a lot of nerve, coming here..."
"Mwahaha!" Lyra belly-laughed and held out a pokeball. "Then get wrecked by ALL our nerve, rival!" she said: "Bellsprout, return." Withdrawing him, she threw out a new pokeball and bounced it off the ground. "Go! Aerodactyl!"
Beaming onto the battlefield, the prehistoric beast bobbed his head twice and belted out a warbling roar.
"We've got rock nerves, and we're ready to get on all of yours!" Lyra declared, just as hyped-up as her 'mon was. "You finally ready for some action, battle junkie? King of the skies! Roar through time!" She chopped her arms through the air stylishly to stress this meaningless promotional slogan.
Silver shook in silent anger. You can't roar through TIME you idiot! he thought. "But this now... What kind of pokemon IS that thing?" he said aloud, clenching his fists and doing a double-take. "Some sort of gray Charizard?" He'd NEVER seen her use this chiseled monster before, so its abrupt appearance was intimidating; clearly, it was not some common pokemon found on the nearby town routes. How could she get such an exotic pokemon already? He was furious! At last, it occurred to him. Was this what caused all the commotion back at the Cherrygrove Pokecenter?
"We go in. Finishing SWOOP," Lyra said, ripping her fingers through the air. "Fatal! Thunder! Fang!"
Dashing forth and grabbing Zubat at super sonic speed, Aerodactyl chomped down on the tiny bat and zapped him with the full electric charge rumbling through his fangs.
"This is ridiculous!" Silver yelled, watching as Zubat dropped to the ground, fainted. "Listen, you... You only won because my pokemon are weak." He trembled, a new muddled throb of hatred pulsating through his veins.
"That's not true!" Lyra said and stared at him. "Your pokemon are good. Good enough to be rivals."
"Shut up..." He didn't want to hear her dismiss him any further. "I hate the weak! Pokemon, trainers. It doesn't matter who or what." He gripped his fists, his mind swarming with thoughts of furthering the violence by attacking her. Fortunately, light-headedness put-off this idea and quelled him with the abrupt nausea it brought. This disappointment inside... his thoughts leaped with a hatred that circled back around to their origins. Him, them. These feelings. It makes me want to run off screaming and crying... I want to choke her... He clawed at his hair. It's disgusting!
"Hate the weak? What a weird thing to say after losing, boy!" Lyra said, her eyes watching him with interest now, but not with the kind he wanted. To his alarm, she actually seemed incredibly worried about him. "Jerkface! Are you ok? H...hey. I know." She opened her bag and revealed a full compartment of berries. "You must be having a sugar crash. Seems all these berries mom sent me just MIGHT be a blessing in disguise!"
With his balance wavering—Silver lost his sense of direction, and right then and there, reality blurred around him. Feeling himself falling forward, his vision flashed white, and a warm sensation melted over him as he faded away. The last thing he felt was the ground smashing his face.
~To Be Continued...~