Blue slumped to the ground, defeated. He should've known. He'd always been told, at least by his family, that Red was a better trainer. They pitied him, poor litle Blue who would never amount to anything. Not one of them had ever really expected him to win. He wasn't even sure they'd ever wanted him to win.
Blue closed his eyes tight, trying to ignore his grandfather's harsh words. All Blue had wanted was to prove them wrong. To prove he was good at training. At anything at all, really. And, he thought, anything he'd ever been good at wasn't what they wanted him to be good at. Oak's dealt with pokémon. They became researchers, trainers. They didn't deal with humans.
Blue doubted he could go back. They'd all say - 'I told you say'. Tell him he was a failure. That they should've known he'd never be any good. That they had known.
And suddenly, Blue was mad. Red had taken it. The only chance he'd ever had at being worthwhile to his family. Worthwhile to himself. And Red got everything, the praise, the pride. And Blue was left here, another failure. It wasn't right. And so Blue told himself, Red didn't deserve it. Red cheated some how. Blue didn't believe it, though he wanted to. And so Red was forcing him to lie to himself. How could he. Blue didn't want that much. To be accepted by his family? Was that so much to ask, to be loved and appreciated? Blue didn't think so.
Next to him. A shadow. Blue looked up wearily, at the Venusaur.
"Don't look at me like that," he muttered. It pitied him. Pitied him, poor lost Blue, no good at anything, a shame to his family.
"Don't look at me." The Venusaur didn't stop. It understood him, Blue knew. Then why wouldn't it listen?
"Don't - look - at - me!" Blue yelled, jerking Red and his grandfather from their discussion. The Venusaur blanched. But didn't stop.
Blue couldn't bear it. He had to have his failure rubbed in, by a pokémon! Stupid creature. Stupid stupid stupid.
Blue brought his head up, to look the creature in the eye. Blue hated it. It had to stop. From his belt, where was it? A knife. Good. The Venusaur would stop looking at him. He wouldn't be pitied, not by a pokémon, not by anyone.
"I said, don't!" Blue screamed, launching himself foward, stabbing the Venusaur in the eye. It screamed. Did it have to scream like that, Blue wondered, as Red was dragging him off. Blue didn't care. The Venusaur wasn't looking at him. It couldn't pity him anymore.
Blue closed his eyes tight, trying to ignore his grandfather's harsh words. All Blue had wanted was to prove them wrong. To prove he was good at training. At anything at all, really. And, he thought, anything he'd ever been good at wasn't what they wanted him to be good at. Oak's dealt with pokémon. They became researchers, trainers. They didn't deal with humans.
Blue doubted he could go back. They'd all say - 'I told you say'. Tell him he was a failure. That they should've known he'd never be any good. That they had known.
And suddenly, Blue was mad. Red had taken it. The only chance he'd ever had at being worthwhile to his family. Worthwhile to himself. And Red got everything, the praise, the pride. And Blue was left here, another failure. It wasn't right. And so Blue told himself, Red didn't deserve it. Red cheated some how. Blue didn't believe it, though he wanted to. And so Red was forcing him to lie to himself. How could he. Blue didn't want that much. To be accepted by his family? Was that so much to ask, to be loved and appreciated? Blue didn't think so.
Next to him. A shadow. Blue looked up wearily, at the Venusaur.
"Don't look at me like that," he muttered. It pitied him. Pitied him, poor lost Blue, no good at anything, a shame to his family.
"Don't look at me." The Venusaur didn't stop. It understood him, Blue knew. Then why wouldn't it listen?
"Don't - look - at - me!" Blue yelled, jerking Red and his grandfather from their discussion. The Venusaur blanched. But didn't stop.
Blue couldn't bear it. He had to have his failure rubbed in, by a pokémon! Stupid creature. Stupid stupid stupid.
Blue brought his head up, to look the creature in the eye. Blue hated it. It had to stop. From his belt, where was it? A knife. Good. The Venusaur would stop looking at him. He wouldn't be pitied, not by a pokémon, not by anyone.
"I said, don't!" Blue screamed, launching himself foward, stabbing the Venusaur in the eye. It screamed. Did it have to scream like that, Blue wondered, as Red was dragging him off. Blue didn't care. The Venusaur wasn't looking at him. It couldn't pity him anymore.