"What the hell do you mean?" Michael screamed.
The Joy was doing her best to keep her voice in a calm, authoritarian tone. "Your pokemon is very badly injured. It's in critical condition right now. You shouldn't have let it fight to this point."
"Are you deaf! He was thrown through a wall! The psyduck used one attack!"
"You shouldn't send out fire types again wat-"
Michael began swearing, yelling as loudly as he could, the words barely intelligible. The last two people not watching now did so. "It was not a water attack! He got like that after a psychic attack! Ninetales are not weak against psychic attacks! He wasn't hit by anything else in the whole damn tournament"
The Joy was not used to dealing with this. Her eyes glanced from side to side desperately, as if hoping someone else would help her. She was used to little ten year olds who brought in sick pokemon they found and would apologize contritely for something that wasn't their fault when confronted by her. "You shouldn't send out pokemon that are badly injured," she tried again.
"Am I not talking loud enough?" Michael shouted, his voice reverberating around the Pokemon Center. He tore his five remaining pokeballs off his belt and shoved them in her face. "You want pokemon I sent out injured! I sent these out! You want to tell me they're in critical condition!"
She backed up. "You should have been more responsible," she said lamely.
"Responsible for what! For sending out a healthy pokemon against an opponent who did this with no warning! What the hell was I supposed to do?"
The Joy looked uncertain. She really did not know what to do. "You should have recalled your pokemon once you realized that-"
"She gave no warning! That was one hit!"
"I-I-" she stammered helplessly.
"Give him back!"
The Joy took the pokeball out of a pocket in her dress. "There'll have to be an investigation," she said.
"Fine! Give me him!"
She handed the pokeball over, looking almost relieved. Fuming, Michael stalked out.
"Are you sure that was a good idea?" asked Elliot nervously as he followed. "They might revoke your license."
Michael shook his head sharply. He was walking briskly, radiating anger, but his voice was calm, as it normally was. "They never revoke licenses. Sometimes I think you could shoot your pokemon in front of a Joy and Jenny and they wouldn't revoke your license. Listen, if this ever happens to you, do exactly what I did. Raise a scene. She won't revoke a license. It isn't about that."
"But why do that?"
"I don't know. But a friend of mine, they told him his fearow was dead. Did you hear what the Joy said? She said, 'your ninetales is in critical condition'. You heard her. And she handed his pokeball to me. She had it with her."
"I don't understand."
"I don't either. I just know what happens sometimes. I do stuff because it seems to work but I don't know what's going on. I don't know why it works. I don't even know if it works but I do it anyway." He shook his head again, looking as if he barely remembered Elliot was there. "I don't know if she would have given him back anyway. I don't know if I made it worse. But she said he was hurt, she said he might die; she didn't give me him. What if I waited and she told me he was dead? He's high-level, they- she might-" His voice broke off. He stopped walking for a moment, looking at Elliot. "I'll have to stay here a few days while they sort this out. I'd advise you leave now. You have to hurry. You aren't getting any younger." He laughed, although he didn't sound like it was a joke.
"Are you going to get into trouble?"
"No. I've got all my pokemon. What else can they do? That's something you need to remember. Don't hand them over when they ask." He looked around, the same calm, unworried motion he'd made when they first met. "I should get going. No need for you to lose your chance by hanging around me. Listen, you should try not to attract attention for as long as you can. Don't do anything they'll notice. And when you fight a gym leader, send out a weak pokemon second. This is important, okay? Look like it's all you have. Understand?" He walked off quickly, not waiting for an answer.
Elliot stood still, staring after him as pedestrians walked by. He felt as if something significant had occurred, but he'd missed the meaning entirely.
After a while, he headed back to the Pokemon Center, where his pokemon were still held. No one looked up or noticed him as he walked in the door.
He felt slightly sick, his stomach hurting the way it did when he was anxious. He sat down on one of the benches, waiting uneasily for the Joy to announce his pokemon. After what Michael said, he couldn't shake the feeling she'd say one of them was dead when she came out.
The Pokemon Center was almost full. More trainers had come in since he'd left, and others were still entering. They were quiet. All of them had lost.
Before long the Joy gave him his pokemon, smiling the same way she always did. He thanked her and walked out, leaving the city and heading south.
Sorry, The Mad Tortoise, but the ninetales wasn't killed. Wouldn't have made sense, as we'll see an upcoming chapter. Hopefully what did end up happening wasn't too stereotypical…
So, honorable reviewers, what did you think of the chapter? Confusing? Boring? Too short? Complain away. I might do something about it. What have you got to lose?