City Blues

Did you know that the human body contains around five to six quarts of blood on average? People can claim to be complex, intricate beings who cannot all possibly fit into one box all they want, but the truth is a far simpler concept to grasp. In the end, they can all be boiled down to the exact same thing: sacks of flesh filled with liquid, piloted by a squishy pink computer that is shockingly easy to destroy. Human life is fragile beyond belief, and yet many individuals seem so willing to teeter on the edge of the cliff of mortality anyways. Everything from smoking a single cigarette to not wearing sunscreen for a day is another tiny push from a tiny hand. Each tiny hand joins hundreds of thousands of others, pushing their host closer and closer to the edge of that cliff as the days and months and years drag on. The host waves them away, of course, denying any issues that they might be having.

Just one time won't kill me.

It's no big deal.

You're overreacting.

I'm fine.

I'll be okay.

It's not the end of the world.

But, eventually, the hands become too much. Every person is different. For some, it may be one sudden, enormous hand that finally causes them to take the plunge. A car crash, or a pokémon attack, or coming down with a fatal illness. For others, it's those little hands that get to them. The final tiny poke that sends them careening. Others don't even acknowledge the hands. They accept their mortality, and find no use in living anymore... so they jump of their own accord. Those are the ones who lay down in the bathtub with a toaster, who hang themselves, or perhaps disappear into the woods and never return. Those deaths are perhaps the saddest of all. But they are all the same thing at heart: a tumble over the cliff, and the fragile flesh sack is done for.

Ansel hadn't ever really thought about such deep and depressing things before, but pondering one's own mortality statistically happens in life-threatening situations far more often than in every day life.

He moved faster than he ever thought his body was capable of moving, sweat streaking his face and shoes slamming against the ground, and wildly thought back on his life. If he died tonight, would anyone remember him for something great? Or would his existence be boiled down into one box, like "that blond dude" or something else stupid? Crazy to think that just an hour ago, he'd been gleefully partying it up in the ballroom with his buddies— laughing at stupid jokes, checking out girls, and playing way too much beer pong to be socially acceptable. You know... typical college kid stuff. Now he was fearing for his life. He heard an ear-splitting roar echo down the hallway around him, and trembled with terror even as he ran on.

He didn't want to die. If he could go back, he would've never gone to that party. He never would've hung back after everybody else left in hopes of getting some action from that cute Bug House girl who'd been eyeing him all night. Fuck, dude, he'd stop drinking and hankering for sex altogether. He'd go celibate! Be the designated drive home at every bar get-together! Become the ultimate geeky nerd! He wasn't going to die. He scanned the seemingly endless hallway, sweating uncontrollably. Had it always been this fucking long? Every door seemed dangerous now— threatening to fly open and reveal whatever was chasing him.

There! Relief filled Ansel's chest as he spotted the house lobby, and then the enormous double doors leading out. If he could get outside, he'd be safe, right? Bolt across the square, lose his attacker in the garden. There were people there; probably a few stragglers from the party making out or something. They wouldn't kill him in plain sight, right? Perhaps not easy-peasy to get there, but in the realm of possibility. It was his only hope.

His shoes squeaked as he slid to a stop in front of the doors and violently tugged on the handles. Freedom! Or... not. His face went white with dread as he realized that they were locked. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The sounds of pursuit loomed ever closer. He turned around in vain, intending to somehow find another way out, but he never got the chance. An enormous beast loomed overhead, and he screamed.

The last thing he saw was red-hot flames spewing from its mouth before everything went dark.

"Dad! I'm fine, really!" Jamie giggled, high-pitched and innocent, as he tried to inch out of the door, but he was once more blocked into a corner for what surely had to have been the fifth time in a few minutes. Foiled again. "Stop worrying so much. I already passed the interview. I'm sure they're not gonna mind if I don't look like the CEO of Pokécore."

The boy received nothing more than an unamused grunt in response. His captor was busy trying to readjust his tie, which had become crooked in his hapless attempt to escape. Alas, he'd have to stay until his dear father declared everything acceptable— never perfect, mind you— and finally shooed him out the door with the tiniest of smiles on his weathered face. Annoying as it was, Jamie wouldn't trade it for the world.

Decked out in his brand new uniform, he couldn't help but feel a little bit proud of himself. Perhaps he was just a janitor, but this was his first ever real job, and he felt like he was becoming part of something bigger. He even had a little name tag clipped to his shirt! JAMIE FARING, written in neat, bold letters on a laminated card.

Jamie had always been able to find the joy in the little things. A gaunt, pale, wide-eyed sixteen year old with a hunger to become something great, he wasn't really a thing to be impressed by at a sideways glance. Messy brown hair, light green eyes, and a smattering of freckles across his permanent baby face completed a childish aura surrounding him that he couldn't seem to shake. It was like people saw him as nothing more than a puppy following at his master's heels, destined to lay under the dinner chair and beg for scraps. But he was nothing if not for his tenacity and tireless optimism, and he would be damned if it didn't get him somewhere in life, even if he didn't look the part.

He was pulled from his reverie by his father's final look over before he was given a curt nod, signaling that he was done. Even without saying anything, though, Jamie could tell what he was thinking. A collared uniform for a janitor? His father had always been a skeptic, even concerning exciting things such as his son's first job that yielded an actual paycheck. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Yeah... they seem pretty fancy. Goldheart University is one of the top colleges in Kalos, though. I guess I can't blame them. Got a reputation to uphold and all, right? At least I have it better than the students. Did you know that the guys have to wear suits to class? I could never!"

Jamie quickly checked the time on his battered old watch, and his eyes widened. "Oh! It's already seven! I really gotta go, dad. I'll tell you all about it when I get back, okay?" He leaned in for a quick hug, and was startled briefly by the fact that he was almost as tall as his dad now.

For a gallade, he was pretty short, but the fact remained that Jamie had always been a bit of a shrimp himself. His late growth spurt had caught him off guard.

With one final cheery "bye!" he was off, flying down the steps of their trailer and leaping onto his bike. His father stepped into the doorway to wave him off, and the tires bit into the gravel as Jamie sped off out of the trailer park. The nearest bus stop was in the outskirts of Lumiose City, and he'd have to move quickly to reach it in time. That wasn't a problem for him. Heck, he would've been happy to bike the whole way to the campus, but he didn't want to show up sweaty and disheveled on his first day. Looking like the CEO of Pokécore wasn't his top priority, but looking disgusting certainly wasn't either. He laughed a little, knowing how furious his dad would be when he got home. He'd forgotten to put on his helmet. His dad didn't have to see that to know.

Perhaps it was simply due to his psychic typing, but Jamie liked to tease his dad that he possessed sixth 'parent sense.' He just always knew when something was wrong. He'd generally been a good son growing up— quiet, polite, and apt to keep to his own lane, but all children get into trouble at some point. And whenever he did, he knew that he would come home to a very displeased pokémon. Perhaps that was why he'd grown up so honest. He knew that lying was a useless venture, and so never tried to skirt around the truth with his dad. While it could get annoying at times, Jamie secretly appreciated his dad holding him so accountable. He'd seen some human parents with their children— uncomfortable, grumpy, and dismissive. He didn't want that at all. Being able to get away with everything at the price of a parent who didn't care about anything concerning them seemed awfully sad to him.

Despite being a pokémon, his dad outperformed humans in many ways.

Soon, the outlines of towering skyscrapers began to peer over the horizon as Jamie pedaled down the ancient dirt road. It was hardly ever used— the kinds of people living all the way out here couldn't really afford cars— and so he had it all to himself. He quite liked that. He biked in the middle of the lane, letting the sun shine down on his face, and felt freer than ever before. It was almost impossible to not be cheerful at this point. A lot of his work would apparently be performed outside. If summer turned out to be this nice all the time, maybe he'd even get a tan! That would be new for him. Jamie found his thoughts drifting towards his new job.

When the ad had shown up in the newspaper, he'd jumped on it immediately: Goldheart University staff team seeking new janitor. No experience required. Call for more information. He'd picked up the phone with glee and called right away, crossing his fingers that he wasn't too late, and was surprised to get an answer on the first ring. He hadn't prepared at all, but somehow still managed to coherently answer the questions thrown his way. Next thing he knew, he was scheduled for an interview. He'd never had a real job before, and wasn't sure what to expect— he was too weak for manual labor, and his people skills were lousy enough to knock out any other potential competitors for a job. He stuck to odd tasks instead. Cleaning bathrooms, folding laundry, and occasionally babysitting were just a few examples. He set no real rates, and was paid back in favors far more than cash. He was okay with that. After all, that was how his community took care of each other. Lumiose Sands Trailer Park was no paradise. The people living in it were just barely scraping by, and the more "civilized" citizens of Lumiose City would often detour around the area. But they were human, too. Everyone needs a little help sometimes; they just perhaps needed it a bit more than others.

Anyhow, somehow he bumbled his way through the interview as well. Next thing he knew, he was being handed a uniform, a pamphlet for Goldheart University, and given the date and time of his first day on the job. As soon as he'd gotten home, it was a cause for celebration. Jamie couldn't wait for his first check. His father did his best to keep them on their feet financially, but even fully sentient pokémon did not yet have the same rights as humans, despite being just as complex or even more so. He was often fired from the rare job he managed to land after just a few days. Apparently, some people don't like being served by different individuals than the norm entails. He would get piled with complaints, despite doing nothing wrong, and managers would decide to let him go. It was a cruel cycle. With the extra money Jamie could bring in, they might have a chance to live a little more peacefully without bills breathing down their necks. And this was a lot of extra money. This place really spared no expense, even in paying their staff. He was stoked.

When he got paid, the first thing he was doing was taking his dad to the Peahen Gala. That was a given. It was a fancy, upscale restaurant in the heart of Lumiose City, best known for its delectable bouffalant steaks. His dad had a secret fondness for the high life— it reminded him of his old trainer, he now knew. He wanted his dad to feel that spark of joy again. They could dress up in fancy clothes, and maybe even take a limo! Could he afford a limo? Budgeting would have to wait.

In no time at all, Jamie bumped onto paved asphalt road, and soon cars began to whiz by. He confined himself to the designated bike lane, and eventually pulled up to the bus stop. He'd done this routine dozens of times before. He put his bike up and stepped inside of the vehicle, and the doors hissed shut behind him. It was more crowded than usual today, he thought as he tried to find a seat. He smiled a little as he realized why. It was rush hour. People were trying to get to their jobs. He had a real, honest to god job to do. He didn't like throngs of people much, but he'd gladly put up with them having that kind of knowledge in mind. Eventually, he found a pair of seats in the back that had just been given up, and he slid into the window seat with practiced ease before plunking his backpack down next to him. Arceus forbid anyone try to sit with him... he would rather daydream than make painful small talk if he could help it.

Almost the moment he sat down, a sharp pain began to settle in the base of his skull, and he groaned. Of course a headache would decide to begin right now. They always found the most inconvenient of times to make themselves known. Luckily, he had a secret weapon. He unzipped his bag and plunged his hand inside, feeling around for the savior that was his little blue pill bottle.

"Please don't tell me I forgot them," he mumbled as he searched about. He wouldn't put it past himself to do so. After all, he'd always been a bit frazzled when it came to memory, and today was a big day. But, praise Arceus, his hand closed around the bottle. "Yesssss!" He pulled it out and quickly uncapped it, but was met with absolutely no pills. Empty? Of course he hadn't filled it back up. He groaned as he tossed it back into his bag and defeatedly replaced it with a pokéball. Company was his second best option, and there was no point in moping.

With a flash of white light, his tiny companion appeared in his lap before looking up at him adoringly. He chittered merrily as he snuggled into his hand, and Jamie grinned as he scratched his fuzzy yellow back. "Hiya, Twobit. You ready for a big day?"

His joltik squealed his approval, and he couldn't help but laugh a little. Twobit was, by all accounts, his best and only friend. He'd met the dual type when he was just seven years old, wandering the woods behind his trailer like a wild creature. He'd found a berry bush ripe for harvest, and was determined to get to the spoils before the birds did. Twobit, at the time just a scrawny level two or three pokémon, had had the same idea. They bonded over fending off hungry pidgeys from the bush, working together in near perfect sync, and had become inseparable since them. Jamie often liked to battle other trailer park kids with Twobit, and occasionally even trainers who were traveling in order to gain gym badges. He'd always admired those young trainers, leaving home so early with goals and dreams in mind and powerful teams of pokémon at their sides. Unfortunately, he was not destined for that life, nor was he strong enough for it. They got beaten often, but at the least, it was good exercise and training practice. Jamie's ultimate dream was for Twobit to one day evolve into a galvantula, as far away as that dream seemed. Maybe he'd have a chance to do so at Goldheart, if he got some tips from the pros. It was first and foremost a trainer school, after all.

Jamie's thoughts wandered to Goldheart. He'd read the pamphlet over and over again when he'd gotten home from his interview, wanting to impress the staff and look like a real go-getter. At first, his efforts had been superficial, but as he researched, he'd found himself becoming enchanted by the school and its philosophy.

Goldheart University was rich in history. Founded as Kalos' very first school hundreds of years ago when people were just beginning to settle there, it had started off as a joint elementary and high school dedicated equally to both education of core subjects and the fine arts— most notably, pokémon training. As time went on, it grew in both size and prestige, and eventually reformed itself as a college. Even as other schools began. to pop up all around, Goldheart became the highest standard and ideal place to receive a higher education. Its focus shifted less to core subjects and even more to training, and one of the past deans even established dorms for every single typing of pokémon. It was a gorgeous place, filled with top dollar equipment and beautiful historical artifacts. Jamie had never taken much notice of it, as his childhood had been very different, but nearly every young trainer dreamed of being able to afford or get a scholarship to Goldheart nowadays. It was truly the golden standard for any pokémon trainer. By Arceus, who wouldn't want to work there? He was rather glad that he hadn't known all of this beforehand, or he likely would have chickened out.

"Jol!" Twobit abruptly squealed. Jamie felt the bus squeal to a stop, much to the pain of his head, and his stomach lurched. Oh. They were at their stop.

"Oops! Thanks, buddy," he said appreciatively. Twobit scurried up onto his shoulder as he got up and reached for his bag. However, his hand grabbed at empty air, and he flinched back in shock. Where was his bag? He looked up, and caught the tail end of his battered backpack disappearing out of the bus in someone else's hands. Oh, no. For a moment, he stood stock still, unsure of what to do.

"Hey— hey, wait! That man stole my bag! Stop!" he stuttered out lamely as he bolted out of the bus after him. He cursed his stupidity as he weaved through the startled crowd, desperately trying to keep his eyes on the thief. A crowded city bus was no place to daydream! He grew near-frantic as he shoved people out of the way and reached out to grab his coat. Almost there... his hand closed around the edge, but the thief hung a hard right, and Jamie ate the sidewalk hard. He was left with a bloody nose, a pounding headache, and not even a scrap of coat for his efforts. If he'd been the cursing type, he would have probably started shouting expletives right then and there. But he was more of the crying type. So, as tears stung at the corners of his eyes, he stumbled to his feet and hobbled vaguely in the direction the bag thief had gone, hating himself and scrubbing at his nose with his uniform sleeve. So much for not showing up disheveled.

Twobit wasn't happy, either. He'd clearly been jostled around in the chase, and made sure to let his trainer know how displeased by that he was. Jamie willingly accepted his hateful squeals in his ear as he stumbled into a large public garden, scanning the crowds. Against all odds, he realized that the thief was still here, glancing around to make sure no one had followed him. Jamie had a good look at him now. He was tall... very tall. Jamie couldn't intimidate him even if he had the personality for it. He gulped and shushed Twobit, gesturing towards the man. They had a very short time frame to get his stuff back. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'll buy you a poffin to make up for it, I swear. But can we please get my bag again first? C'mon, you can take him, right?"

He felt rather silly begging a three inch tall spider to help him, but Twobit wasn't the spiteful type, and he knew it. A poffin was more than enough of an acceptable apology for him. He stared with his many eyes at the scrawny man and nodded, squeaking and jumping off of his shoulder onto the ground.

"Okay, use Electro Ball! Give him a good scare!"

With much concentration, Twobit began forming a lump of electricity in front of him, crackling with power. It grew in size until it was about as large as a baseball, and then the joltik sent it flying. A few people in the crowd threw themselves out of the way, screaming, and the electricity exploded at the thief's feet. He shouted in surprise and dropped the bag before running off. For a moment, Jamie stared, dumbfounded. That had actually worked? But then his expression turned to a wide grin, and he leapt into the air, pumping his fist.

"Oh my god, we did it, Twobit! We got it! You're the best joltik in the entire freakin' world!" he shouted gleefully as he scooped up the disgruntled insect to spin him around and kiss his furry body. After a fitting moment of celebration, he loped over and scooped up his bag. He was relieved to find nothing out of place. He laughed and puffed out his chest a little bit. If only his dad could see him now... taking on petty thieves and winning!

However, he was quick to deflate. This abrupt detour was going to make him late, and the bus had probably driven off with his bike. On top of that, he would show up sweaty, panting, covered in dirt, and with blood on his sleeve to his first day on the job. He was terrified of being fired before he even started, and felt the tears start creeping back. He couldn't afford a new bike, and neither could his dad. It would be a devastating blow to them both with no stable income.

"I can't believe I dazed off like that... I'm such an idiot," he mumbled defeatedly. "Now I gotta go find my way back to get to the gard—"

Wait a minute. Jamie looked around. He... was already in a garden, wasn't he? A beautiful one, at that. Surrounded by enormous, lush green hedge fences, his gaze swept over the rows and pots and orchards of neatly tended flowers, bushes, and trees. Children raced around and played silly games, and a nest of combee buzzed warmly in the distance. He reached for the university pamphlet and opened the pages. This was it, alright! What a roller coaster of emotions. He smiled a little as he started to traverse the open gardens, admiring blossoms in every color of the rainbow. The air smelled like vanilla and honey. This was absolutely beautiful! He vaguely recalled that this place was tended to by students in the gardening club. Their work awed him.

As he continued on, making sure to occasionally check the pamphlet map to know he was headed the right way, he wondered if he'd be fired. He felt a little better about the situation now. Sure, maybe he didn't look amazing, but they could appreciate the determination to get to his job on time even in the face of theft, right? It was enough of a hope to cling to, at least. Twobit purred on his shoulder, seemingly appreciating the view just as much as his trainer was. Jamie steeled himself for whatever talk he would inevitably receive. As long as he was honest and polite, everything else would fall into place, right? Yeah. That settled his nerves a little bit.

Soon, the crowds of people milling about began to thin out. He began to pass only the occasional straggler. It seemed like these back areas were more of a plant hospital, which obviously wouldn't attract most people. He was going the right way to the center of the campus through a back way, though, according to his map, so he pressed on. Bright, healthy neons and pastels were replaced with various shades of black, brown, and grey. Some folding tables were set up, and injured or dying plants appeared to be recuperating on them. His hand brushed over the surfaces of a few of the dull clay pots, and he wondered if he'd have to help the plants at all. Probably not. It didn't seem like much of a janitor-y thing to do, and, besides, Jamie wasn't good with plants. If there was an opposite to a green thumb, he had it. The only thing that remained constant here was the enormous hedge fence, towering over him. It felt like this area got less sunlight to him... the hedges cast huge shadows over the area, and he shivered a little. Even Twobit seemed on edge, curled closely against his neck and suddenly much quieter than before.

Jamie tried to distract himself by admiring the hedge. Apparently, hedge fences were expensive and difficult to keep healthy, and he'd believe it. Hedges this tall had likely been growing for many, many years. Goldheart had received a huge renovation a few years back, and the budget had tipped into the multi-millions. How much of that money had gone to the hedge, he wondered?

He suddenly stopped, and realized that something really was off. It wasn't just his anxiety getting ahead of him for once. The smell... the pleasant notes of vanilla and honey were gone. Everything back here smelled coppery. He wrinkled his nose. Yuck. Maybe that was just how dying plants smelled? It didn't make him feel any better. He hustled along, suddenly much more eager to get out of the garden. There was absoplutely no one else around now; he'd really reached the furthest corner of the garden. Nobody probably came out here besides gardening club members. He felt alone and nervous.

Tiny strips of sunlight broke through the hedge fence up ahead, and Jamie frowned. Wasn't it too thick for light to really break through much? He glanced in the direction it was coming from and froze. His throat felt thick, and his blood turned to ice. Goosebumps shot down his arms, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

There was a hole in the hedge.

It wasn't big at all, and it was hidden behind some poorly stacked logs. But it was there. Why would such a fancy school have a noticeable hole in their hedge fence? It just didn't seem right. Every bone in his body seemed to be begging for him to turn back, too— likely some not-quite-forgotten survival mechanism from ancient days. But overwriting that fear, for once in his life, was curiosity. He just couldn't turn away. He knew that he should. He should just turn his head and walk right out of that garden, and never think of it again. That was what he should do. But... he couldn't. He just couldn't. He couldn't force himself to walk away. Twobit squeaked a high-pitched warning as he took a step closer. Another step. Another. His feet left the cobblestone pathway, and touched down on damp, cold grass. Closer. Closer. He had to know. He pushed aside a few logs with some effort and peered into the shadowy hole.

A mangled body, burnt beyond recognition, lay before him. Two charred holes where eyes had surely used to be bore holes deep into his own.

Twobit screamed, and after a moment, Jamie realized that he was screaming, too. The world spun around him, and the enormous shadow cast by the hedge seemed to swallow him whole as he fell to the ground.

The last thing he saw was the sun, getting brighter and brighter, turning his vision yellow before everything went dark.

A/N: nervous laughter

Not me, hating the first chapter of a book I swore I was gonna stick to, like, ten minutes after posting it and not having the balls to go and rewrite it! But, uh... over a two month period, I did it... y'all I am a HORRIBLE procrastinator, you literally do not even know? BUT HEY I FUCKIN DID IT OH MY GOD

I'm much happier with the quality of this rewrite than of the original first chapter! It was rushed, clumsy, and altogether kinda 'meh.' This is about the length and quality that I want the average chapters of this book to be, although 3-4k words will probably be a more reasonable word length. Normally, this wouldn't take two months to write, but I am a terrible, terrible person who cannot cope with my work not being perfect, oops...

It's been a hot second, so I totally get if people kinda lost interest in this book. I'm going to go back through the original character submissions I sent tomorrow and get an activity check from them, and accept any new ones that popped up that I liked. If I don't get a response, I may be reopening some more slots!

I cannot promise that I will not disappear again for four months, but, uh, I'll try not to? Pls have mercy on me I'm smol and gay and stupid and unmotivated as fuuuUUUUUUCK