The next few days were spent in constant paranoia. My brain was most active at night, conjuring dismal scenarios of the authorities at my doorstep, of my parents' extreme disbelief when the press discovered that I was their son.

Was there a reason why you kept silent, Cynthia? Did you intend to prolong my suffering? Was psychological torture your idea of revenge?

I didn't mean to hurt them though! It was an accident!

I felt like the entire world had turned its back on me. Only Grandfather would understand, but I couldn't drag him into my problems. There was his ailing physical condition to consider, his weakening heart especially. If my actions sent him to the hospital… oh, then I wouldn't know how to live with myself.

One day, I finally set aside my fears and sought out the source of my night terrors.

In our rendezvous, I met you. You were on time, for once. I tried greeting you with a smile, but you were less than thrilled to see me.

"Two minutes," you hissed. "I have to visit my friends in the hospital."

A hole opened in my stomach. I wouldn't wish hospitalization on my worst enemy.

"How are they?" I said softly.

"Broken bones. They're awake now."

Oh. That's a relief. If they had died, I… I would gladly spend lifetimes compensating for my sins. Justice won't ever bring them back, but it might give their families closure.

"I'm not telling you their hospital room," you said. "You'll just hurt them again."

How could you assume such heinous things? "It was an accident!" I insisted.

"An accident? I saw you laughing your ass off while your stupid crow almost killed them! And you never stopped even after they fell down!"

Frost spread from the chasm in my stomach. I felt sick. Unlike our first meeting here in Beach Cave, my present nausea resulted from the very real fear that you would do something very, very terrible to me. Perhaps something irrevocable.

"Cynthia, please. I know what I did was wrong, but I want to explain—"

"If you want to explain, then tell it to the cops. You know what I should've done back then? I should've had you arrested!"

"Then why didn't you?"

"Have you looked at yourself? You talk with your scrap metal instead of playing with other kids. You hang around run-down caves instead of going to parties. And you cry blood! No normal kid does that!"

A verse taught in school came to me suddenly: "Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never hurt me." And I gnashed my teeth because it was all a damned lie. If you didn't kill me by your recklessness, Cynthia, then your words would be my death sentence.

When I finally find my voice, it came as a low, rumbling growl. "So I'm an intriguing specimen. Was that why you kept quiet? So I could continue making a spectacle of myself?"

"You're an embarrassment yourself without my help. I covered for you because it's almost unfair that I would go out of my way to tattle on you. Everyone in Sunyshore already knows you're trouble. No one would be surprised when you finally snap."

Was this for real? You protected me because… I was unworthy of being punished? Undeserving of anyone's time?! Because I'm different, that's why I had to be treated differently?!

"How dare you patronize me!" I snarled. "You, of all people! I thought you were my friend!"

And you wrinkled your nose at that statement, as if disgusted. "I'm sorry, what? When have I ever been your friend? I have an image to maintain."

"What image? Your delusions of grandeur? Your stupid, childish notion that everything revolves around you?"

"W-What did you just call me, you abnormal, clingy, overbearing punk?!"

"Name-calling is to be expected from a princess who is incapable of understanding that not everyone shares her opinions! Do you think everyone has the liberty of choosing their own future? That everyone has the nurturing support that you have?! Not everyone is as privileged as you, Cynthia!"

"How am I privileged? My grandma at Celestic Town is so backwards that I couldn't wear skirts that went past my ankles! I sought Professor Rowan out myself so I could escape that place! Meanwhile, you just sit here in your hole and talk to your imaginary friends! Don't blame me for what you could've had!"

"Cynthia—"

"Not everything revolves around you! You're acting like a spoiled little baby who never got any attention from his parents! What's with that glare? Your mommy and daddy don't have enough time to love you?"

"C-Cynthia…"

"Oh, let me guess: all you want is just a teeny tiny gesture of approval from them. Anything that acknowledges your worth. You have no friends, no one to turn to, so you pretend that your toys actually care about you."

Without warning, my knees buckled, and I crumpled down to the coarse sands.

"Stop," I whispered to your feet. "Please, no more…"

All I received was a sigh. "Regardless of what your sob story is, you still hurt my friends. Nothing can justify that."

I immediately lunged for your arm. "Cynthia, please. I-I don't care if you hate me, but I need you to listen—"

You kicked me away. But I was insistent, crawling after you and yanking at whatever limb I could reach.

"Cynthia, you have no idea how much you've changed my life. Please, I just need a minute of your time—"

"I have better things to do than be here with you." All light of familiarity was gone from your usually beaming face. You appraised me with cold indifference as if I was a failed experiment begging to be let inside during a thunderstorm.

"You brought this on yourself," you continued in that dispassionately flat tone. "You never wanted us to be friends, remember? 'Acquaintances' you said. Imagine who else I could've befriended if you hadn't been in Beach Cave that day. If we had never met, then I would've had a brighter future!"

But… But if I'd never met you, then I wouldn't have a future at all. You've brought me so much happiness… and hope. Without your intervention, I wouldn't be here on my knees right now, begging you to give me a second chance.

"Did our time together mean nothing to you?" I whispered. "Absolutely nothing at all?"

"No."

Was that your voice cracking? Or were these signs of hesitation my brain's cruel way of coping with your hurtful words?

"At least look at me," I begged. "Cynthia, please don't turn your back to me."

Your back turned, you said, "You should just forget that we've ever met. Just once, I looked the other way for you, so the least you can do is turn a blind eye against our so-called friendship. Don't show your ugly face in front of me or my friends ever again."

Those were your final words.

Our farewell was so unexpected that I remained in my spot, motionless with shock. There were so many things I wished to tell you. So many regrets that manifested from your sudden departure. You had taken a shard of my heart with you, and it would never be the same again.

But my sorrow quickly dispelled into anger, which evolved into rage.

How dare you mock me! How dare you walk out on me when I needed you the most! Don't you care about me? Would you ever bat an eye if I drowned right in front of you?!

Spurred by deliciously poisonous rage, I stormed out of Beach Cave, destroying anything and everything in my path. The pebble beneath my foot? Ground to dust. The fallen branch of a palm tree? Ripped to shreds, the nettles crushed in my fist. This stupid ankle that kept buckling upon the slightest application of weight because it was crushed beneath your meteor? Rammed repeatedly against a boulder until it learned its lesson.

Only, it retaliated by tattling on me, and my brain temporarily shut down. Even my own body was turning against me.

Such insolence. I'll make it pay.

In the heat of my aggression, I punted a pathetic orange fish as far as I could with my broken ankle.

It was that crack which snapped me back to reality, when the pain finally registered in my thick skull. My leg was on fire. My ankle hung limply off its joint, twisted by the impact.

But what was more disconcerting was the victim of my nasty temper tantrum. Lying in a pool of red was the Magikarp that had saved me from the sea's invitation. Pieces of its scales clung to the boulder which it had smashed into.

Horrified by what I had done, I grabbed the fish to my chest, cradling it with trembling arms while I babbled incoherent apologies. There was so much blood. I tried to wipe it away, but it kept bleeding…

Oh. The excessive blood was coming from me. The fish flopped about weakly in a sea of my bloody tears. Such a grotesque sight drew in tourists who pointed, jeered, snapped pictures with their cameras. They swarmed me, pinning me down while they called my parents—

And I screamed. I then wrenched myself away from my demons and ran into the sea. The current brushed aside these cursed tears with gentle, ghostly fingers. An intangible caress against my ear, a hauntingly beautiful voice encouraging me to visit the bottom of the ocean, where all was quiet and numb.

Yet I was once again pulled back to life by that fish.

"WHY DID YOU SAVE ME?" I screeched. "YOU, A STUPID, RAGGED FISH INCAPABLE OF CONTRIBUTING ANYTHING REMOTELY USEFUL TO SOCIETY!" I searched for a sharp enough rock. "Here. Smash my skull. Hit me like I hit you, but make sure I suffer!"

After measuring me with an unreadable stare, the Magikarp simply tapped a fin against my reddened cheeks. And I broke apart.

From an outsider's perspective, I was a complete, gruesome mess. I was wailing at the top of my lungs to the most useless Pokemon on this planet. Along with the Magikarp, the Zubat and Murkrow also arrived, drawn by this sorry excuse of the son of a prominent prosecutor and a renowned CEO.

Why could I never control my damned emotions? Why did they always get the best of me, no matter how hard I tried to be strong? Why would anyone want to feel this way?!

And why was I letting myself fall victim to the whims of such volatile, vacuous sentimentality? It served no purpose but to prolong the abundant suffering in this world. It was ugly. It was incomplete.

It needed to change.