Sarah calls this morning. She's heading to Driftveil to challenge the gym there and wants to meet up. I tell her maybe —I'm still finishing up my training here. She asks if I can tell her now what's been wrong.
"It's not important," I say. "It's fixed now."
I don't think Sarah believes me.
When I hang up, I find Athena watching me through narrowed eyes.
Sad. Then why not go?
I don't have an answer. It's been almost a week since I fought Tanya outside the daycare, since Walter said goodbye, and since then I haven't got any training done.
I've taken Champ and Sammy and Athena outside, but somehow the days just seem to pass with Champ and Athena rough-housing, and Sammy a warm weight on my lap, until I drift off under a tree, waking up to find Champ also nestled up against me, and Athena standing guard. It's nice, waking up like that, only I feel wrong and itchy inside, sitting around and doing nothing. I made Walter and Athena a promise that I'd train her the real way; I promised Sammy I'd help her be strong; and Champ and promised each other, way back in the beginning, that we wouldn't let anything stop us from making our way.
I'm breaking those promises now, cause I can't seem to keep my head straight. When I shut my eyes, I think of Tanya, with her burning breath, saying "You don't know shit about what you want."
I think of the daycare and this hot, roiling feeling wells up, that makes it hard to think. There's a lot of people who expect me to be strong now, and I just want to go back to the pokecenter, pull up my covers over my head, and not exist for a while.
Slowly, I trudge back into the cafeteria, where Champ and Sammy are facing off over a honey-soaked waffle. "That's bad for you," I tell them. Champ scoffs and bats Sammy on the face when she tries to sneak around him.
"It's bad for you," I say again, louder this time. I pick up the waffle in my hand; the honey spreads and smears over my skin, dense and sticky. Champ and Sammy watch as I march over to the trash can, fling the waffle away, and then rub at my skin with a napkin that frays and sticks to my hand. Champ starts to snicker and I say, loudly, "Shut up."
At my side, Athena flinches like I've set off a hot red pulse.
"We're not training today," I announce, not looking at any of them. "There's something I want to do today. Just me."
Champ makes a low, indignant sound. His ears go back on his head. Sammy lays a paw on his side and murmurs something. Athena stares at me sharply and then nods her head.
I walk out of the pokemon center alone. It feels weird. I don't know the last time I walked with just myself. My squeakers squelch softly through the grass; there was rain last night, and the world is bright and wet, like an unfinished painting.
The daycare doesn't look different, except for how I know it's empty. When I try the door, it doesn't open. I go round the side to the hole Champ and Sammy dug, squat down, and stick my hand in, until it can't go further. The dirt is soft and clumpy and sticks to my already sticky hand.
"It's shut down."
I startle at the voice and turn around. It's a girl, younger than me, maybe nine or ten. Her face is tanned and freckled and her hair's the light yellow of a sitrus berry. A sewaddle peaks around her legs.
"It's shut down," the girl says again. She's giving me a funny look, her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed, like she's thinking hard.
"I know," I say, getting back to my feet and trying to wipe my dirty hand on my pants.
"I seen you before," the girl announces. "You were battling. I thought you battled good, even though you lost."
My eyes blink closed and for a moment I'm battling Tanya again. Knowing she's stronger, knowing we don't have a shot at winning.
Only, winning hadn't really been the point.
"We weren't fighting for the same thing," I say slowly.
That wins me a curious look. The girl comes closer, her sewaddle slouching behind.
"I thought it was cool like how you use a raticate," she continues, chatty. "People always say it's stupid to use common pokemon, but what do they know? Common doesn't mean bad."
"They don't know anything," I agree.
The girl smiles. "Me and Shinli like to battle. We're not bad, either. We work at the daycare, battling. Like helping to train the pokemon." Her face crinkles. "Only I guess we don't work there anymore."
"I'm sorry," I tell her. I didn't think about the people who worked at the Day Care, the ones who didn't know anything about the steroids.
"It was a good job," she says. "I got to play with different Pokémon all the time. Now I guess I gotta head back home to the farm. I hate the farm. Every day's the same. Long. And boring. And my whole body hurts all the time."
"You like battling, you said? So why not be a trainer."
The girl snorts. "Yeah. As if."
"Why not?"
She stares at me like I'm the crazy one. "Cause trainers need things. All sorts of things that I don't got."
"Listen, I'm a trainer." It's strange, the way I say it. No hesitation at all.
"I know," she says, like she thinks I'm the one who's thick. "I saw you fight. Remember?"
"So I'm a trainer, but when I started, I didn't have anything at all. Just Champ." I wait for Champ to chitter his agreement, then I realize he's not here.
It's just me.
"Champ's my raticate," I add.
She stares at me, her gaze moving critically from the jagged tips of my self-cut hair to the thin soles of my shoes. Like she's rewriting me in her head, from somebody she can look at, to somebody she can be.
It's strange, how Champ's not here next to me.
I think about how I'm standing, with my back straight, and how this girl's calling me trainer, even though there's no pokemon by my side. And I think how 'trainer' is something bigger than battles and pokemon. 'Trainer' means you can go where you want and be who you want. It means you don't ever have to be ashamed or afraid.
Tanya started out like me. Only, the second she got strong, she stopped caring about what was right. Like it was only her that mattered.
And I think that if you've stopped caring about what's right, then you're not so strong at all.
My bag feels heavy on my back. I unzip the top and fumble around, until my fingers close around one of the pokeballs Walter gave me when he left. I hold it out on my open palm, the smooth white and red surface gleaming in the morning light.
"I have an extra," I say, watching as her face goes still. "You know, there aren't—there aren't rules about who can be a trainer and who can't. I know it feels that way, but it's not written down anywhere. They can't stop you. If you and Shinli go to a pokecenter, Nurse Joy will register you, and there's food and a place to sleep at night. It's free for trainers. And maybe it's not easy, but it's good."
I close my mouth, feeling like I've run out of words.
The way she's looking at me makes my skin prickle. It's like she's not seeing me, but a bigger, brighter version of me. Someone she might want to be.
. . . had I looked at Tanya like that?
She takes the pokeball from my hands slowly, carefully, and then clutches it to her chest as if she's worried it's going to disappear then and there like a waking dream. She swallows, but doesn't say anything. Because there aren't words, really, for what she's holding in her hands. For what it promises.
"You're gonna make it," I say awkwardly, jabbing my hands into the pockets of my fleecie.
Tanya's voice echoes through my head, scornful and coaxing. "Do you really believe anyone can make it to the top? Even someone like you?"
Shaking my head to clear it, I say again, louder this time, "You're gonna make it big."
End of Part Two
a/n: a thousand thank-yous to OldSchoolJohto, who has made two fabulous portraits of Lena and Tanya. Her drawing of Lena is the story's new cover image!
Also, folks, an interlude will be coming, but after that it may be a long wait until part three. I've got some other pokemon fics taking up my time, hopefully to be posted soon!