Hey, guys. I really appreciate the small group of loyal fans I've obtained. But school has indeed started. Updates are probably gonna start slowing down, most likely appearing in once a week as opposed to being three or four days apart. And notice that unless I say so, Reincarnation is NOT going to die anytime soon.

Note: If I owned Pokemon, something would be very wrong with the world.

All around him…voices. They spoke in hushed tones, surrounding his lone form, with eager eyes. He looked around the room, but he was strapped down. He clawed at his restraints, but couldn't do a thing to them; the material was some cross between fabric and steel. The table felt as though a bucket of ice had been dropped on his bare body. He could see one thing: light.

And then there was darkness…and as the light reappeared, the figures had manifested. He couldn't see their eyes—there were no eyes—but he could hear their voices. They spoke in something he had never heard before, a tongue sounding as though the characters were vomiting and screaming. But oddly enough, he could understand one of them.

"It has awakened…call Launch, let him know it can start whenever he feels ready."

Another of his captors reached for an item, one that, when held in the light, wasn't like anything he could describe. He struggled against the constraints of the table, still to no avail. The item was held directly in the middle of his vision, and as the lights faded again, all he could feel was pain. It grew stronger and stronger with each passing second, burning his nerves, searing his flesh to the bone. He screamed, but nobody came to him. The pain grew to become unbearable anymore. He cried until his voice went out…and the pain hadn't yet climaxed.

…

"Wake up, FireRed. Wake up, it's time to go!"

FireRed groggily opened his eyes to see an excited Pearl hovering over him. She was already fully clothed, her hair was wet from a recent shower, and her favorite hat was on; she was ready to go. FireRed managed to sit up with some effort. Pearl sat on his bed, so she hurriedly got off. He looked at the clock sitting on the television: 7:45 AM… FireRed sighed with true relief. He remembered the fierce pain, it had felt so real just a moment ago, and yet all ended. Pearl looked at him strangely.

"FireRed," she said with her usual lack of emotion, "are you okay? You were sweating, and moaning in your sleep. I…felt it wrong to read into your dreams." Pearl spoke sincerely, FireRed noticed. He felt as though he could trust her…and yet he refused. If she could read his mind, what else could she know about him? How could he trust her…or anybody, for that matter?

Pearl scattered from the room as FireRed began to pull off his covers. "I'll meet you in the lobby, FireRed," she called as she left. FireRed showed a puzzled look as she rushed out the room, slamming the door behind her.

Weird…

…

The Pokemon Coliseum: the embodiment of all the strongest trainers the world had to offer, all pit against each other over the course of a week…yet Gold felt nothing. Standing in the wings of the massive Phyrite area, he got a look at the surrounding environment. The actual arena was nothing more than your average battling floor: a large expanse of land marked with the iconic Pokeball outline in the center. The brown floor of the stadium had a texture hard as stone. To the opposite sides of the arena, ten-foot long platforms had been elevated a foot off the floor and surrounded by transparent boxes for the trainers to stand in. One box was red, the other green.

Gold turned his attention upwards. The arena was actually more like a long tube. Gold estimated the Coliseum was twenty stories high, holding the thousands of trainers that looked down upon him. Below the normal seating, a ring of boxes surrounded the stadium, reserved for the most powerful people in the Pokemon world. And in one of those boxes, Gold knew Giovanni would be watching…

"…and in the other corner, the one you all came here to see: elite Pokemon Master of the world, the undefeated hero, Gold of Johto!"

Upon the announcer's line, a roar of applause greeted Gold. He walked out from the wings into the arena, completely ignoring his adoring fans. Any other day, any other month, hell, any other year he would've enjoyed this tournament more than anything else. But knowing what's at stake, he couldn't have fun in any situation. Gold opened the door to his green platform as the audience still roared. Gold wondered just how the Pokemon would get out of the box.

"…this match, as are all of them, will be three rounds, three Pokemon each. Match 1, Cooltrainer Ralph versus Pokemon Master Gold…begin!"

Gold's box played battle music even. Funny, those tournament admins. The kid in the box looked like something out of a prep school, with his hair combed over and his tuxedo on. The boy tossed out a Pokeball, and to Gold's surprise, it passed right through the box and landed squarely in the arena. The ball revealed a black bird Pokemon, with what resembled a witch's hat.

"Oh! Ralph has unleashed his mighty Murkrow!"

Gold sighed. This is the best the Rockets could give me? All my experience, and they make me fight a goddamn Murkrow? Gold reached down past his iconic yellow hoodie, and obtained his weapon of choice from his belt. He fingered the Pokeball in front of his face for a moment, thinking things over. It's wrong to crush a mere novice in the Pro Pokemon world, he knew, but Giovanni expected nothing less than for him to crush this Ralph, to smear his Pokemon into the ground.

The Pokemon Center's PC's…at a time, Gold thought there wasn't a thing they couldn't do. They amused him so, the idea of storing a living thing in a computer server. As Gold stored his Pokemon in the Box, he couldn't help but feel nostalgia. Feraligatr…Typhlosion…Meganium, even Noctowl, they had been with him since they were in their child-like forms. As he signed off the Box program, he held only one Pokeball. Gold turned away from the computer to face number two on his kill list.

Silver's red hair, still slicked back in a way reminiscent of those losers his dad hired years ago to catch some other trainer's Pokemon, glistened in the light shining through the tinted windows of the Pokemon Center. Silver peered over at the computer before facing Gold. "Interesting, chum," he says with a sneer. "I take you to make one final run before the match, and you throw away your guns like that. It almost makes me wonder if you've gone haywire on us."

Gold tried to brush past Silver, but it didn't work. Silver gripped Gold's arm, his face an inch from Silver. "I hope you remember what's at stake," Silver warned snidely.

Gold tore away from Silver's grip, restraining himself from ending their rivalry once and for all, right there. He stared straight into Silver's eyes. "You once cared for Crystal as much as I do…why would you do this?"

Silver's smirk disappeared, replaced by a serious scowl. He walked towards the door from the Pokemon Center leading to the Coliseum. "You're right," Silver whispered loudly enough so only Gold could hear. "…I once did."

Gold realized he had kept Cooltrainer Ralph waiting for nearly five minutes. Whatever…if they want me here, they'd better let me take my time.

The Pokeball Gold had kept: it was the one he had began his quest with, so long ago. It was his best friend, his brother, his father…his everything. They always fought together, and come what may, they will still fight. Gold wouldn't dare risk any other of his Pokemon by putting them in proximity of Team Rocket. This one…they know not to mess with. Gold tossed the Pokeball outwards; it passed effortlessly through the wall of his platform's box, and crashed open on the floor.

Gold smiled; at least Silver would get to see just how much weaker he is compared to himself.

The ball opened to reveal a Pokemon measuring about a foot in height. It had bright yellow fur, in some places bordered by black outlines. It's red cheeks flowed with electricity already. The defining feature of this Pokemon, though, were the eyes: they had lost their innocence that so many other Pokemon had.

Cooltrainer Ralph beat the announcer to the punch. He screamed through the box. "Murkrow, teach that Pichu to go back to kindergarten! Use the Dark Tackle move I showed you!"

Murkrow was instantly engulfed in darkness, the shadows covering the Pokemon manifesting seemingly out of nowhere. The now shrouded Murkrow began speeding across the arena, attempting to release all it's energy on the Pichu. Neither Pichu nor its trainer moved.

What happened next, Gold was sure nobody expected. As soon as Murkrow became in close proximity with Pichu, the baby mouse Pokemon became surrounded by a yellow bubble as Gold described it. The yellow bubble was, in actuality, electricity being fired out as a defense mechanism by Pichu. Any Pokemon who flew into the shield was instantly targeted by Pichu, and took a Thunder counter-attack. Unfortunately for Murkrow, it couldn't bear 100,000 volts coursing through it's veins. Murkrow stayed in the air, its body convulsing as Pichu lay waste to it. As the bright yellow shield dropped, Murkrow collapsed on the floor, it's stored shadow energy no longer there.

Gold noticed Cooltrainer Ralph's expression of shocked hatred as he called back Murkrow. Before Ralph could toss another Pokemon into battle, Gold spoke out. Luckily for him, the boxes were privately connected with microphones. "Hey, kid," Gold said in the most passive voice he could find. "How old are you?"

Ralph responded with the high voice of a little boy. "Uhh…eight, sir…"

Gold smiled faintly. A Prodigy Child…he couldn't hurt a little kid, much less one who has genuine skill. It could potentially scar him, to take the beating he would if the match continued.

"Take your Pokemon and go home. Don't think about the prize, think about your Pokemon. Your Murkrow had a lot of power with that Dark Tackle thing. Don't hurt your Pokemon for your own profit."

Ralph said nothing. A moment passed, and then the audience gasped. Ralph had opened his box, and stepped outside the arena. The announcer chimed in again.

"It seems Cooltrainer Ralph has surrendered! This victory goes to…Gold!"

Gold didn't care about the victory. Seeing Ralph run into the waiting arms of a proud father in the wings made his happy…a first in days.

…

Back at the Pokemon Center, Gold sat by himself with a coffee at his table. He sat there, sipping silently, waiting for a certain someone to appear. He didn't have to wait long. Silver stormed in the pink building, sitting at Gold's table across from him.

"What the hell was that?" Silver was furious. 'Really, what in the bloody hell was that? Making the kid surrender…what kind of a—"

Gold cut him off before profane words came about. " You said I had to fight. Nobody said I had to punish little kids for trying to pursue their dreams."

Silver was the one restraining himself this time. "I thought…I thought you liked to battle," he said with an edge, clenching his fists.

"I once did." Gold let that sink in, and it did. Silver sat up, staring into Gold's eyes. As he turned to leave, he kicked down his chair, calling attention to himself. Silver exited muttering things to himself.

Gold sipped his drink again, and as Silver passed the doors, another group passed in. This pair, he noticed, had a distinct presence. The girl, a short and stout, pretty eyed, purple-haired girl, got no notice. The other, a boy of fifteen, with a black shirt under a brown vest and blue jeans with spiky chestnut hair, caught Gold's attention.

"I need to heal first," Pearl said. "I need to replenish my Pokemon's PP before we fight…" Pearl trailed off, not mentioning her brother. FireRed glanced around the room for a moment, and Gold thought he had seen the child somewhere before. But where...?

The announcer began again. "Round Two: Pearl of Sinnoh versus Dante of Sinnoh, will take place in five minutes."

Pearl ran out of the Pokemon Center, her healed Pokemon in her bag, and FireRed following behind. Gold still didn't recognize this boy…his mind called attention to another character, whom he had defeated long ago. But Red had died…right?

Gold sipped his coffee.

End Intoxication IV: I Once Did

There you have it, I have nothing to say today. Tired…R&R! Zzz…