Angels Fall First.
Chapter 5: Pandemonium
"Please, please, please, please, please!"
"No."
"Please, please, pleeeeeaaaassse!
"…"
"Please, Kira! If you let me sit on your shoulder just until we get to the lab, I swear I'll be real good for the Professor!"
"I said no, Whiplash." Kira grumbled. The Pichu might have been cute but he was getting on her last nerve. She was taking him back to Professor Redwood for the day so that he could run some more tests on his dual abilities. Whiplash didn't want to go, since he said it was too boring, but Kira couldn't take him into class being so noisy.
She was tempted to put him inside his ultraball for a while, but they were nearly at the school now and it seemed pointless. People were looking at the trio though, muttering about her being cruel to ignore such a sweet pokémon.
"Please Kira!" He paused realising begging wasn't working. "If you don't let me ride on your shoulder, Imma shock the Professor! I will!"
Kira arched an eyebrow and looked down at the pokémon where he ran between her and Bleak, his short legs having to move fast to keep up.
"Are you threatening my teacher to get your own way?" She asked a hint of amusement in her voice.
He nodded. "Yep!"
"Ugh, fine. But be quiet for a bit." She muttered, not slowing down to let him up.
He gave himself a burst of speed and leapt up, grabbing a pawful of her leather coat and climbing to her shoulder.
"Wow! You are so lucky to be this tall! I can see so far from up here and all the other pokémon look little and I never thought that I could look down at other pokémon, like Bleak! Hi Bleak, how come you're so small?" He giggled and waved at Bleak who rolled his eyes and looked past him to Kira.
"Has he been drinking coffee or something?" He asked with a smirk.
Kira groaned, "Don't give him any ideas, it's bad enough as it is!"
Whiplash turned around, using Kira's short ponytail for support and causing her to grimace.
At least she was dumping him with Redwood for the day.
She felt self conscious having the yellow rodent on her shoulder. Ever since Ketchum had become famous for his pokédex having recorded sightings of every known pokémon, every trainer on the planet seemed to scramble to get a Pikachu like his.
Pretty much everyone you met would have a Pikachu or one of its evolutions balancing precariously on their shoulder, refusing to put their rodent into a pokéball.
After a year or so of this everyone realised that Ketchum just got lucky, and there was nothing magical about walking round with an electric rat on your head that would make you a more successful trainer.
Kira had never really been one to follow trends, especially ones from a decade ago, and she hoped no one would mistake her for a die-hard Ketchum supporter or something.
That would suck.
Whiplash was still chattering happily away, although both trainer and pokémon were trying to ignore him.
Once Whiplash was handed safely (and instantly silently) over to Professor Redwood, Kira and Bleak had to run to class. The mouse had made them late by stubbornly clinging to Kira's hair until Bleak threatened to eat him if he didn't let go.
That did the trick, but now they were tardy for the strictest teacher in the academy; Professor Salt.
"Come on Kira! I know you've only got two legs, but Salty'll kill us if we're late!" Bleak groaned as they ran full tilt down the corridor.
Kira just grunted and tried to keep up with her faster companion.
They skidded to a halt outside the classroom door and took a few seconds to compose themselves before walking in.
The clock informed them they were ten minutes late, and Professor Salt looked at the time, then at the flustered girl and her pokémon disapprovingly.
"Ms. Airstryke! I see you decided to join us? Well unfortunately everyone is all paired up." His voice was mocking and sickeningly sympathetic.
Kira glanced around the pokémon battle class to see that he was right… everyone was standing in pairs around the large, gymnasium-like room. And they were all watching the late-comers.
She looked uneasily down at her pokémon, whose ears were drooping miserably.
"Since you're tardy, I guess you'll just have to practice with me today." Professor Salt was smiling a little too much for comfort. She just knew he was going to embarrass her in front of everyone.
"Yes sir." She mumbled, before following him to an empty space.
As the teacher went on to inform the class of what he did and didn't want to be seeing today, Kira was trying to remember which pokémon he owned. She knew he had quite a few, and you could guarantee he'd pick the one with an advantage over her Bleak.
Her pokémon was leaning gently against her leg, but she wasn't sure if he was standing close to comfort himself or her.
"Now, I want you all to watch Ms. Airstryke and I demonstrate. Then you can tell me where you thought she went wrong."
Kira frowned slightly. Sure it was unlikely they'd win against a Battle instructor, but he didn't have to have the other students rub her face in it. She could feel Bleak growling deeply and quietly, and was pleased he felt the same way.
"Machoke, lesson time." He smirked, releasing the large pokémon.
Kira didn't know whether to be amused that he was so predictable, or panic about the distinct level and type disadvantage they had.
Bleak had hardly gotten his furry behind into the space between the two trainers when Salt was ordering a low kick.
The attack caught Bleak by surprise as he wasn't ready yet and the Machoke's foot connected heavily with his side. The little pokémon was sent flying across the smooth floor, his feet scrambling for purchase on the unforgiving surface. He hit the wall hard and struggled to stand up, angry at himself for not being prepared.
"Oh crap. Bleak are you okay?" Kira cringed. That had looked painful.
He grunted, staggering back towards the large fighting type.
"Try an ember.." Kira suggested unsurely. Bleak responded immediately and the small flames spattered against the pokémon's arms which were raised defensively.
Unfortunately it seemed to do very little, except maybe encourage the Machoke who responded to his trainers next command with an accurately placed karate chop.
It hit Bleak on the back of his head between his ears and he slumped to the ground, defeated.
"Well that was nice and quick," Professor Salt smirked. "Now, what did Kira do wrong first?"
One of the more rebellious boys muttered, "She was late for class." This triggered a ripple of giggles from the surrounding students.
Kira was crouched rather forlornly next to the wounded houndour, murmuring soothing words to him. It may have been his body that was bashed around, but it was definitely his ego that was most bruised.
Halfway through Professor Salt explaining about an obvious lack of strategy, the doors slammed open, bouncing off the wall behind them.
Everyone turned to see who'd dared to barge into one of Salty's lessons and were horrified to see three men standing there. Each of them was wearing a black uniform with white gloves, a blazing red 'R' emblazoned on the front of their shirts.
About fifteen years ago Team Rocket had all but vanished from the face of the earth with the life sentence being given to their leader Giovanni, but roughly a year later they were back with a vengeance.
No one knew who was running the show now, with the old boss still securely locked away, but one thing was for sure; Team Rocket were now a force to be reckoned with. They had extended into all the different regions whereas they had formerly been restricted to Kanto and their tactics had advanced to the point of them being known as heartless killers and pokémon thieves.
So finding them inside a school was greatly alarming.
"Hand over your pokémon and no one gets hurt," demanded one guy, sounding bored. He'd done this so many times.
There were gasps as people drew their pokémon closer or recalled them to their pokéballs.
He sighed exaggeratedly and casually pulled out a gun, aiming it loosely at anyone who moved.
"I said hand over your pokémon."
Professor Salt stood beside his Machoke, not sure what to do. He couldn't risk the students getting hurt, but he couldn't just stand by and do nothing either.
"Machoke, low kick!" He suddenly yelled and the pokémon leapt forward to attack.
There was an echoing bang and an agonised cry as the pokémon fell to the floor with a bullet hole through his shoulder.
Salt ran to his side in horror and shock, guilt washing over him. His poor buddy. He grimaced and returned the pokémon to his ball, stopping him suffering until he was healed.
"Anyone else want to play hero?" the Rocket asked, eyeing the students and their inexperienced pokémon.
In shock everyone unhappily returned their pokémon and passed them to another man who was walking around with a sack.
Bleak wanted to fight and Kira was somewhat relieved he was too hurt to attack, since the thought of him getting shot was too awful for words.
"Trust me." She whispered to him before drawing him into the repeat ball. She deftly dropped her hand into her pocket, switching the ball with the spare pokéball she'd gotten him in originally. The motion was fast and discreet, so the Rocket thought nothing of it when she dropped the ball into the sack, a look of anger and despair on her face.
"You won't get away with this." She muttered, but the guy just grinned.
"We always do." He replied haughtily, and with a mocking bow the trio of thieves left the room.
The minute they were gone pandemonium broke out. Everyone was crying or yelling, panicking about their poor pokémon.
Kira's fingers brushed Bleak's repeat ball hidden inside her pocket and she grimaced.
She'd saved her own pokémon, but what about everyone else's? What about Whiplash?
Her grey-green eyes widened as she realised she'd forgotten about the tiny mouse pokémon down in Professor Redwood's lab. If they got hold of him she'd never forgive herself.
It was easy to slip out unnoticed from the chaos inside the room and she crept nervously down the corridors, her senses strained to their limits.
There was a gunshot from somewhere else in the Academy, the terrifying sound muffled by the many walls.
Finally Kira caught sight of one of the few rest stations that were dotted around the college. There was a drinking fountain and a healing machine. They were similar to the ones used in pokémon centers, except they could only heal one pokémon at a time, and only from minor injuries. They were designed for student and staff use after class battles.
Glancing frantically about and feeling horribly exposed in the middle of the hallway, she dropped the ball into the correct slot, and a few coins into another. The progress bar lit up and she watched as it filled up painstakingly slowly. She knew it always took sixty seconds but it felt like hours. Eventually the machine dinged and the ball rolled out into the tray at the bottom.
She grabbed it and shoved him back out of sight and into her pocket again.
Feeling a little more confident now that she had a healthy pokémon to protect her, she continued making her way towards Redwood's lab.
She had to duck out of sight a few times when Rockets were running from room to room, and it seemed to take forever to make the familiar journey.
She could see the door and sped up her steps, only to feel a heavy hand slam down on her shoulder.
Letting out a startled yelp, Kira didn't have time to respond before she found herself slammed against the wall.
Standing in front of her were two Rockets. The one currently pinning her to the wall by her upper arms was a large guy in his mid to late twenties, his short minty green hair standing up jauntily in spikes.
The second man was about the same age but not as tall or as heavily muscled as his colleague. He had a couple of inches of messy blond hair, a few strands falling over his cold blue eyes.
"We've caught ourselves a little mouse," he laughed, but had something of a puzzled expression on his face as he stared at her. Hefting the bulging sack he carried onto one shoulder, he pointed his gun at her with the other hand.
"Check her for pokémon." He suggested, guessing no one would be stupid enough to be creeping about without one.
Kira was dropped to her feet, and she raised her hands warily under the watch of the gun. She was cursing herself for leaving Bleak in such an obvious place.
The larger guy grinned at her as he ran his clumsy hands over her body, causing her to grimace and meet his gaze defiantly.
He arched an eyebrow as he reached her hips, dipping his hand into her pocket to retrieve the repeat ball that was hidden there. He held it up triumphantly.
"Got one!"
Reacting without really thinking, Kira suddenly smacked the ball from his hand. It clattered to the floor, but didn't open as it rolled a few meters down the corridor.
"You stupid girl!" He grumbled, giving her an annoyed shove. He was about to go and retrieve the pokémon when the sound of sirens reached their ears.
"Forget it, that's the signal to get out of here. One more won't make a difference." The guy with the gun said, still giving Kira an odd look. Seeming to consider something for a moment, he fished out a small camera and flashed it in her face, singing "Smile!" as he did so, even though she was clearly scowling.
"Souvenir," he offered as way of explanation, and the two of them ran off, headed for the roof and their escape.
Kira released a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding and rubbed her bruised arms shakily. That had been too close. She couldn't believe she'd hit the ball away from him! That was practically suicidal.
But it had worked.
Trembling slightly she walked to the pokéball and picked it up, clutching it tightly. Thank heaven for the police turning up.
Rushing to the door she'd been targeting, she was surprised to find it locked. She shook the handle a few times and then knocked loudly. There was no reply and she knocked again urgently, hating standing out here now paranoid that more Rockets would be coming down this way to get to the roof.
"Professor Redwood? Let me in!" She called out quietly but frantically, tugging the handle again.
"Kira?" A nervous voice came from inside and the sound of a key turning in the lock was heard.
The door opened a crack and the Professor's pale face could be seen in the darkness beyond it.
"Yeah, it's me! Let me in." She pushed her way in and the Professor locked the door swiftly behind her.
"I figured if the door was locked and the lights were off they'd think no one was in here." He murmured, answering her unspoken question about the darkness.
"I uh... bumped into a couple of them in the hallway. They're heading out, going up to the roof." She noticed her voice sounded a little unsteady and she was still shaking a bit.
Redwood seemed to relax slightly at this news and flicked his desk lamp on to provide them with a little light, without attracting attention.
This was his office and Kira noticed the door that connected it to his lab had a chair pulled in front of it.
"Did you see them?" She asked, flopping down into the wheelie chair at his desk, her hands still clutching Bleak's repeat ball.
"Yes. They barged into the staff room and started firing at the ceiling, demanding directions on how to get to the pokémon storage facility. After they left I came straight here to check on my pokémon. They were all fine luckily. Whiplash too," he added seeing the worried look she gave him.
He walked over to a filing cabinet and unlocked one of the drawers. Shifting the folders to the front, he retrieved some pokéballs from the concealed space behind them.
He handed her the Pichu's ultraball with a shaky smile, then sat on the chair by the door with his three pokéballs.
He opened the great ball and his prized Jumpluff appeared. It floated gently onto his lap and he ran his fingers through the soft, cotton-like fluff she sported.
"I was so worried I'd lose them all." He sighed.
There was a bang on the door, making them all jump, but it turned out to be the police so they quickly let them in.
Kira explained what she'd witnessed and they were informed that no one had been killed but there were a few serious injuries. Unfortunately just under half of the pokémon from the academy were missing.
And Team Rocket had escaped in a set of helijets from the roof.
To Keleri: Thanks for reading this and for suggesting I drop the rating. I don't know if I'll get any more readers from doing so, but as long as I know someone is reading it I'm happy.
To everyone else…:
Review? Pweeeze:)