Chapter 21
Nija was never a morning person. She never tried to be, strived to be or even vaguely wanted to be one. This morning filled her with no sudden change of heart.
The sun was pouring in through her window—how had it gotten open?—and roasting straight through her eyelids, bleeding into her cornea and making them ache. The last thing she wanted to do was get up out of bed.
The first thing she wanted to do, however, was to get the hell out of Viridian City. With that as her motivation, the girl pulled herself groggily out of her bed, giving the downy sheets a fond pat, as it would be her last night rooming there. She'd packed her things and showered the night before—probably why she was so exhausted this morning—and was ready to go. Charmander was safe in his Pokeball, and so were Pidgey and Nidoran. Nija felt confident, something that gave her immense satisfaction.
See, she told herself as she pulled her fingers through her hair, I can be just as brave as Amaris. After a few seconds of getting her nails caught painfully in her dark locks, Nija decided that it was too much trouble, since the strands would be messed up by noon, anyway.
Charmander's Pokeball caught Nija's eye as she moved back to the bed to get into her outfit for the day. After she'd pulled on her beaten up long jeans and blue t-shirt, she picked the device up and tossed it from hand to hand. Catching it after three or so rounds, she impulsively clicked the button twice to let out her Pokemon.
Charmander had obviously been asleep. The instant it materialized at her feet it sat up, stretched, and scratched at its head with one foot. Looking grumpy, the lizard regarded her.
"Good morning to you, too," she said, sitting down beside it and rubbing its head fondly. Charmander seemed to think this was a plausible excuse for bothering it so early in the morning and leaned into her hand, making an almost-purring sound. "I was thinking, buddy, how are we going to beat the Pewter City gym? They use Rock types there, and I'm afraid you guys aren't quite what the doctor ordered."
Charmander regarded her with one teal eye and snorted a puff of smoke from its nostrils, as if to say I can take 'em.
Nija laughed. "I'm sure you can," she said, sighing and getting to her feet. "If Bulbasaur actually obeyed Jason I'm sure he wouldn't have much trouble."
Pulling on her red backpack, slipping her pokeball-fastened belt around her waist and grabbing the Chansey-keychain from the bedside table, Nija pushed the door open—
… And clipped Jason in the face.
"Whoa!" she exclaimed, pulling back and knocking into the bed with her overstuffed pack. "What the heck are you doing out there?"
"Ow," Jason commented conversationally, rubbing his nose. "I was about to knock on your door, what d'ya think?" he said, reverting to a slang she hadn't heard him use before. "A-a-anyway, I wanted to know when you're heading out to the forest."
He, too, was adorned in a backpack roughly half his size and a belt of Pokemon. They looked like bizarre twins who shared no genetic makeup. "Um, right now, I guess." She said, regarding him with interest.
"Ah. Well, I was thinking that you and I could like… travel together for a while. Until we get to Pewter and all."
"Oh," she said, blinking. To be honest, she'd felt rather sad knowing that she would be parting ways with Jason last night, as it had been a long time since she felt she had a friend to talk to. Granted, she'd only known the guy for two days, but they had a remarkable amount of things in common and connected on a level that Nija hadn't thought boys were capable of. "That would be cool."
"Alright then!" he said, clapping his hands and starting off down the hallway. "It's kind of embarrassing—I haven't even made my first catch yet. I'm hoping they'll have some kind of cool bug Pokemon out in the forest."
"I bet'cha they will!" Nija said, feeling light-hearted and buoyant as they started off into the sunlit morning after returning their keys.
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It was amazing how much of a difference having a traveling partner made. Nija had been ready to take a wrong turn down a patch of overgrown pathway when Jason had pulled her back and kicked the moss off of a sign that pointed them down the correct way. Nija was shocked—if she'd been by herself she would have been hopelessly lost and probably would have spent days in the forest, wandering around. She and Jason were positively showered in wild Pokemon—Kakuna fell from the trees, Caterpie scurried underfoot, Pidgeys swooped down in a mad frenzy. Bulbasaur had begrudgingly fought off the fray of creatures—probably not because Jason wanted it to, but because it felt like it—and Jason made his first catch. It was a level five Caterpie, and he had proceeded to spin Nija around in circles and holler his head off. Nija was shocked at the sudden outburst of activity, but hadn't been able to help herself from joining in—Jason's euphoria was contagious.
"Nice job, dude," she said, clapping him on the back. "You probably scared away all the other ones now."
Jason had merely winked and said, "You know you're just jealous!"
It was around twelve in the afternoon the following day when the duo had reached Pewter City, and Nija could scarcely remember being so happy to see any such place in her life. Jason and she had never endured the surprising chill of camping outdoors in the deceptively hot evenings of summer, and had been immensely put out by how frigid it became once the sun set. Charmander had lit them a fire grudgingly, and they'd somehow managed to catch some sleep before starting off again earlier than either of them normally rose the next morning.
Charmander and Bulbasaur had popped out of their Pokeballs in perfect unison half way there and refused to go back in. At first, Nija had been frustrated and embarrassed, but found that fewer wild Pokemon attacked them when the two were out and growling at anything that dared to cross their paths.
Pewter City was charming in a sophisticated way. Many of the buildings were made of stone instead of wood, a clever little attribute to the town color theme that had Nija wondering if all towns and cities did this. If that were the case, she shuddered to think what Fuchsia City looked like.
She and Jason made a beeline to the Pokemon Center. When they signed up for rooms Nija was appalled to find that this Center, too, donned the exact same type of Chansey-adorned keychain.
After they'd dropped off their Pokemon, they decided to take a walk around the town and explore. Pewter was even larger than Viridian had been, which made Pallet seem even more dwarfed. It took them about an hour to wander around—they got distracted often—exploring all the sights and popping into random convenience stores. Jason made jokes about people that they passed by, imitating two chattering girls in extraordinarily short shorts and causing Nija to snort painfully through her nose in an attempt to stifle her laughter. That, of course, had set Jason off again, and for the rest of the day every time Nija laughed he would snort comically beside her. Nija's face was sore from smiling.
When they approached an imposing-looking museum they'd pooled their money for tickets and strolled in the blessed air-conditioned halls.
"Check out the size of that thing," Jason said, gawking at a Pokemon fossil that was stretched at least thirty feet long. "It's freakin' huge!"
"Jeez, how'd they manage to keep the fossil intact?" Nija wondered aloud, pressing one hand against its glass case. "You'd think it would've broken into a billion pieces when they tried to move it."
"'Aerodactyl,'" Jason read off of the plaque. "Prehistoric Pokemon. Believed to have genetic makeup linked to the dinosaurs," He looked up to Nija and broke out into a broad grin. "I am so getting me one of those."
Nija stared at Jason with her brow furrowed and her mouth slightly open before bursting out into laughter. "Um, Jason," she said, snorting again—much to Jason's apparent delight—"They're kinda, y'know, extinct."
"So?" he asked, and the sheer honesty and genuine quality of his determination made Nija's own Pokemon trainer instincts tingle. She was suddenly painstakingly aware of the gym within walking distance.
"Hey, Jason, you done looking around in here?" she asked, fidgeting and playing with a strand of her hair. "I wanna challenge the gym leader already."
"Yeah, I'm done," Jason said, grinning. The grin fell off his face when as he ticked off something on three fingers and frowned. "But wait… you only have Charmander, Pidgey and Nidoran, right?"
Nija blinked. "Yeah… does it really matter, though?"
Jason frowned and bit his lip. "Well, I dunno… it just seems to me that none of those types have an advantage over Rock. And Pidgey'll get severely owned."
Nija sighed deeply and plopped down on a chair next to the enormous fossil. She'd temporarily forgotten about the worries that had plagued her just that morning in the light of a possible Gym Badge. "I guess you're right. What do you think I should do?"
"Well," Jason said, stretching and rolling his left shoulder. "You could always walk around the forest and catch a bug type and train it up decently strong. Or you could train Charmander like mad and make it super buff—then maybe the type disadvantages won't matter so much."
"I suppose so. Yeah, I think I'm going to do that right now," she said, getting up. As she headed down the stairs to the first floor of the museum, Jason called after her.
"Which one?"
"I'm sure Charmander can take 'em, if we train enough!"
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Nija had always known Charmander loved to fight, but now the true nature of its competitive streak was revealed. She'd never known just how deeply the Pokemon's desire to win had run, but at the mention of a trainer that she wasn't sure she could beat, Charmander's performance upped by quite a few notches. Gone were the few-second's delay between spoken command and action—Charmander obeyed every attack without hesitation. Nija was ecstatic, and ardently hoped that this new turn of events wouldn't revert once the gym leader had been defeated.
They trained out in the grassy patches on the outskirts of Pewter all day. Nija felt a pang of remorse for not spending time training Nidoran and Pidgey equally, but knew there would be time for that once the gym leader went down. It seemed that her whole life was on hold until after that event took place. Oh well, Nija thought as Charmander successfully K.O.'d another wild Pokemon, That is pretty much my life now; training.
Charmander looked up behind her and Nija wondered vaguely if he'd just been boosted up another level, because he winked at her in a very cheeky way. Oh yeah, she thought. I don't mind it one bit.
By the time Charmander actually seemed to be slowing down, Nija got the distinct feeling he was quite a few levels stronger. She'd done some research on how to tell, but found that the higher up he got the harder it was to tell between level 11 and 12 or 12 and 13. She was contented that he'd jumped at least four, and recalled him to his Pokeball, intent on healing him up and returning to the Pokemon Center. She wasn't sure if she was ready to beat the Pewter gym leader right then and there, but she did feel like trying.
She healed up her team in the Center and loitered around the outside of the imposing gym, trying to keep out of sight of the window. She wasn't all that keen on being spotted by the personnel inside.
Fingering Charmander's Pokeball, Nija took a deep breath. Was she really ready to face her first gym leader? She felt confident that she'd trained well, but she had no way of knowing if it was good enough. The Pokeball seemed to grow heavy with significance in her hand as she realized that people were walking by the gym doors on their way to their daily shopping's and glancing at her with mild interest. Nija felt her face flush and minimized Charmander's ball, hooking it back to her belt and attempting to look casual as she leaned against the wall beside the doors. Nonchalantly reaching over and taking a pamphlet from a clear plastic box affixed near her head, Nija flicked the glossy sheet open and began to study the pictures of Brock and his assortment of Rock types without actually taking in any of the words.
Back in the day, according to her mother, there had actually been men paid to stand outside the doors of these gyms and accost passing trainers, asking them if they wanted advice on beating the gym leader within. Nija found this idea very daunting, and couldn't imagine actually spending all day standing outside in the sun, trying to scare young trainers into awe and respect for her employee. This new method, a nice, non-imposing little plastic box beside the door, was much more agreeable to her.
Most of the information in the pamphlet was entirely uninteresting, Nija found. There were depressing statistics of Brock's Pokemon within a table that allowed Nija an insight to how the gyms were run. Apparently, these days you were required to give the level of the strongest Pokemon you planned to use against the leader, and they would choose their Pokemon accordingly so as not to completely kill your Pokemon in battle. Nija had always nursed a small, rather secret dignity that flared up slightly at the thought of being accommodated to like some child, but quickly stamped out the indignation at the thought of dragging Charmander's corpse back to the Center in pieces after having it body-slammed by a level 100 Onix. She supposed this new method was more practical, and infinitely safer for the Pokemon in question.
Eyes scanning the shiny surface of the map-like leaflet, Nija's attention was caught once more by a small biography of Brock in the lower left-hand corner. A tall, broad-shouldered young man with spiky brown hair and eyes nearly-shut in a warm smile peered out from a tanned face framed by a strong chin and ears that stuck out a bit awkwardly from his head, as if he was having a hard time growing into them. Nija was shocked at how young Brock Slate looked, and quickly ran her eyes down the bottommost edge of the paper, looking for a copyright date. Finding it, she wasn't surprised to see that the leaflet was dreadfully out of date—it had been printed nearly twelve years ago. Frowning, she looked back at the picture of the smiling young man and half-heartedly scanned the paragraph about his life.
Apparently Brock had grown up the eldest of many siblings, taking care of them for a daunting number of years before his previously MIA father returned and Brock had been allowed to travel the lands of Kanto and Jhoto to his leisure. He'd always been a Rock-type trainer, it said, although Nija could hardly muster up surprise at this. All the gym leaders she'd ever heard of seemed to have known precisely what they wanted to train from the very first breath of life they'd taken. Nija envied their seemingly unquestioned drive and sheer knowledge of success.
Reading on, Nija was shocked to find that this man who looked not ten years older than herself was already married and with a son, who's name was very hard to pronounce and began with a "G." Surprised, Nija folded the pamphlet up, and, about to return it to its clear box, decided against it and folded it up smaller so as to pocket it in her jeans. Maybe if she helped to deplete the supply of these outdated things the company that manufactured them would be forced to make newer ones.
Nija hadn't noticed it before, but now it seemed painfully obvious as she was stuffing the pamphlet into her pants, that a very large, rather temporary-looking sign had been plastered beneath the plaque that read "PEWTER CITY POKEMON GYM" with "LEADER: BROCK SLATE."
Gym temporarily run by Sean Armstrong, first apprentice of Mr. Slate.
"What?" Nija mused to herself, frowning very hard at the cardboard sign. Why wasn't Brock leading the gym? Was he off somewhere on business, or something? On second inspection, the sign looked extremely decrepit and old, as if it was originally intended to be temporary but had weathered through a number of years untouched. Nija frowned, and, gripped with an impulse, pushed the doors open.
The gym appeared abandoned. The air conditioners were all running, but there wasn't anyone in sight and all the lights were off. Perhaps Mr. Armstrong had run out for something real quick? Feeling like a trespasser, but knowing that the Gym should be open at this time of day, Nija wandered a bit further inside, making sure to keep the heavy door propped open with one foot so as not to lock herself in the dark.
"Hello?" she tried tentatively, creeping as far in as her leg would allow. She caught sight of sudden movement above and peered up into the darkness, straining her eyes to catch it again.
"Someone there?" called down a gruff, clipped voice that sounded as though it were thick with some kind of accent. It was coming from the ceiling, amazingly. "Hold on. I'll be right down."
Suddenly Nija's heart was hammering. Young trainers didn't just barge into Gyms and inquire about the leader's health. They came in, bothered the leaders—temporary or not—for a battle, not small talk. Nija's hand wound around Charmander's Pokeball. I guess this is it?
"Oi, could you turn on the lights for me?" the voice called again, and Nija frantically looked around her for the standard set of light switches. "'Fraid they're a bit more complicated than that. You'll find a—" the voice got cut off and a large crash sounded from above. "Ow. You'll find a fuse box hidden behind the fourth rock from the bottom just to your right… the big, flat one with the little indentation etched in it… yes, that one!" he called as Nija's fingers looped into a strange, deliberate feeling hole and clicked the lock of a hidden door open. "Now, hit the switches one, three, five, seven, nine and 11. But don't hit 13, whatever you do. Now you can continue on to 15, 17, and 19. Excellent! Thank you."
Nija closed the trap door awkwardly, blinking around the now-lit gym. Wondering why the gym leader had been working in the dark up on the balcony that ran around the top perimeter of the place, she stuffed her hands in her pockets and waited.
A man roughly twice her size came lumbering down a stairwell that almost seemed too small to accommodate his girth. He wasn't overweight by any means, but his sheer bulk was intimidating. Nija vaguely thought she could fit both of her thighs comfortably in the space his left bicep took up.
"You want a battle, I assume?" the man was asking, wiping dusty hands on tattered blue jeans.
Nija nodded, half-aware of what she was saying. "Yeah… if it's not too much trouble, ahh… is Mr. Slate off on business?"
The mountain of a man had been lumbering across the dry expanse of rocky outcroppings, but now froze in his tracks for a moment, halfway through mopping his brow, and now it was without saying that he was the Mr. Armstrong in question. He turned around and regarded Nija with a wary eye. "You don't know? God, that's the fourth youngster who's come in here today asking where Brock's gone off to."
Nija blinked, feeling slightly abashed at her apparent ignorance and scuffed one sneaker in the dust. The man continued on his way to the other side of the gym, and Nija, alarmed, realized that he wasn't going to answer her.
Well, that's kind of rude… she grumbled inwardly, clutching at Charmander's Pokeball and observing the chrome shine. Armstrong was calling to her from over the gym again, and she glanced up to hear him better. Nija figured they were about a hundred feet apart.
"One on one, two on two, three on three? Or do you want a full on battle?"
Nija gulped and clutched Charmander's Pokeball so tightly she was surprised he didn't pop out and roast her for trying to crush him alive. "O-one-on-one is great."
"Very well," Armstrong said, selecting from behind a particularly large rock what appeared to be a shoebox of Pokeballs. Nija gawped at him, wondering vaguely why he kept them down here, in a box, where anyone could waltz in and take one. He paused as he was pawing around in the dilapidated cardboard and regarded her. "What level is your Pokemon in question?"
Nija blinked, and invented, "13," In reality Charmander could be anywhere from level ten to 15, so she decided to level it off in between.
Armstrong nodded reasonably and selected a seemingly random Pokeball from the collection before unceremoniously slapping the lid back on the others and stuffing them back behind the rock. Nija was still a little put out by this display, but when he made eye contact with her from behind scraggly brown hair and a thick, scraggly beard, Nija snapped back into focus. "You ready?"
"Yeah," she said, pleased that her voice, unlike her knees, wasn't shaking.
In unison their arms shot forward and Nija crowed "Charmander!" while Armstrong growled "Geodude!"
Nija felt weak with relief. She'd expected it to be Onix, and in all honesty she hadn't been sure if she could have beaten one. This deceptively small, gravity-defying boulder seemed the easier of the two by far.
It was typical kosher to allow the more skilled trainer the first attack, and, muttering a few words of warning to Charmander and bracing herself just as much as her Pokemon was, Nija awaited the Tackle attack that would no doubt come in just a moment's time. Her adrenaline was pumping through her veins fiercely.
"Defense Curl!" Armstrong called out to Geodude, and, abashed, Nija watched as Geodude's long, rocky arms wrapped around itself and a soft shifting of stone and gravel scraping against each other reached her ears. The lights reflected off Geodude's stony brow a bit brighter, and Nija realized, with a wave of awe—that Geodude had made its very skin harder.
Nija was a bit worried, as she'd been counting on that attack to gauge how powerful Geodude was compared to Charmander. Now it was her turn, however, and she stammered out, "Ah, um. Scratch!"
Charmander practically flew at the rocky figure ahead of it, lashing out with two sets of fierce little claws and latching them sharply into its head and dragged them across it with a vengeance.
The effect this had on Geodude was likened to a fly bouncing haphazardly off of the hide of a three-ton rhinoceros. Geodude looked bored and tired as it executed Armstrong's order of "Body Slam!" and positively ground the orange lizard into the dusty rock bed ground.
Nija was beside herself with horror. "Charmander!" she cried out, quickly detaching a Pokeball from her belt and preparing to call her Pokemon back. To her utter astonishment a snort of strain and frustration sounded from the foot-deep crater that Geodude had created, and, miraculously, the face of her orange companion appeared from the rim of the dip. Charmander was trying to pull itself out and continue the battle, but Nija knew that it was only a matter of time now. That first attack had clearly put into sharp perspective just how hopeless Charmander's one offensive technique would be.
"Growl," she said helplessly, hoping that she could weaken Geodude's onslaught of attacks by a fraction of an inch. The second the command was out of her mouth Nija stamped her foot down furiously and clapped a hand to her mouth. She should have used a Potion instead!
Armstrong seemed mildly amused. "Don't carry any healing items on your person?" Charmander was growling ferociously, raising the small stubs of what would someday be wings on its back and arching its spine. Geodude didn't appear to be phased, but regarded Charmander with a new awareness, seeming to wake up from its "you've-got-to-be-kidding-me" sleepy disinterest.
"Let's finish this," Armstrong was saying, shrugging his shoulders and pointing one thin hand out to Charmander. "A tackle attack ought to do it."
Before Nija could even form a coherent thought Geodude had rushed forward and slammed roughly into Charmander, sending it flying through the air to skid slowly, painfully to a halt at Nija's feet. Charmander twitched for a moment before laying still on the dusty floor, angry red marks showing up remarkably clearly on its orange flank. There was no doubt about it; this was a clear K.O.
Nija felt numb and rubbery as she gently tapped the button on Charmander's Pokeball and recalled her beaten companion. Geodude shook the dust off its shoulders and arms and regarded Nija evenly. "Better luck next time," Armstrong called, also dusting himself off.
Nija flushed red and turned away from the man, unable to thank him for taking time out of his schedule to face off against her. She was about ready to just dart from the vicinity when he called out behind her back, "Didn't you want to know what happened to Brock? And you gotta take Geodude with you back to the Center. He'll just lead you up to the doors and leave then."
Nija spun around, abashed and shocked. "What? You mean I have to—have to walk back here and let everyone know that I—" she cut herself off, realizing exactly how insolent a brat she was making herself sound like. "Um, never mind."
Armstrong looked surprised for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Believe me, if it were up to me I'd let you go back there on your own, but you know how it is…" Nija nodded, feeling about as big as one of the dust motes still floating around the room. As she was turning away, he finished up quite suddenly with, "Now, let me be the first to inform you of the unhappy news of Mr. and Mrs. Slate's deaths approximately eight years ago."
Freezing in mid step and whirling around to regard Mr. Armstrong once again, Nija felt her mouth dropping open even as her mind whirled into overdrive.
"Wh-what? What happened to them?"
Armstrong was already making his way back to the suffering stairwell, but answered her without looking once at her again. "No one's really quite sure. They were missing, and then they were found, although not in the state that we would have liked them in."
Nija shuddered involuntarily as the man made his way, creaking with every other step, along the stairwell. A thought struck her with the force of a rock to the head, and she blurted out before she could stop herself, knowing that she sounded like a morbidly curious rubber-necker, "What about their kid? G… um, their son?"
"He and his little sister are both well alive and fine. I believe they're out on their Pokemon journeys at the moment. I'll be seeing you again in a while, I imagine?"
Nija nodded numbly before realizing what he meant. A rematch. Flushing with renewed shame, Nija muttered, "I expect so," before turning and practically fleeing out the door, a very solemn Rock type hovering after her every step.
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Everyone seemed to know this walk of shame, and although Nija tried to hide her face it was no use—people were chuckling, pointing, shaking their heads, smirking, muttering behind their hands or merely gawping at her as she went. She wished ardently that the stupid rock would just turn around and float on home—she wasn't so daft as to run out into the woods and get herself into a battle with a wild Pokemon or another trainer with an arsenal that was entirely unconscious. A part of her knew that this was the law, the standard safety procedure, but she could be pissed off if she wanted to be.
Will I ever win a proper battle with another human being? Nija thought glumly, feeling utterly sorry for herself as Geodude began to round off to the Pokemon Center's double doors. Or am I doomed to fight wild Pidgeys and Caterpies for the rest of my life?
Well, Nija, she countered herself bitterly, what did you expect, really? You rush in there and challenge the gym leader like a true novice, choke and forget to heal Charmander up properly between attacks and you're wondering why you lost?
Her inner voice had a very Amaris-like tone sometimes, or Amaris dreadfully mixed with her mother. The combination was indeed disturbing, blending a self-bashing tone of sarcasm and a scolding "you'll-think-twice-next-time" air that had her dragging her feet back to the Center, Geodude hovering silently at her side. They'd finally reached the doors and Nija glared at Geodude until it seemed satisfied that she was going to go in and, turning around somberly, began its journey back to the gym.
She'd just reached out for the Pokemon Center's door when it opened in her face, nearly causing her to fall backwards onto her rear. Reminded of her run-in with Jason that very morning, she dryly thought that karma was doing its job today and staggered back into an upright position.
Framed in the doorway were two teenagers that looked about two or three years older than she. One was a tall boy—the one who'd opened the door on her just now—with white-blond hair that looked like it hadn't been combed that day, although Nija knew she wasn't one to talk, and wide blue—or were they green?—eyes that were now wincing as he spouted out apology after apology.
"Oh, God, I'm sorry—this is the second time in two days I've almost smashed someone—are you okay? I'm sorry, should have been thinking about the possibility of someone else on the other side of the door—are you all right?"
"Ah—yeah, yeah, I'm good. It's alright, totally." Nija blinked, bewildered, before she caught the small smile creeping onto the face of the boy's companion.
This girl was about Nija's height, maybe a few inches taller, with long, neat black hair pulled deftly into a braid that hung around her waist. She had cool grey eyes that were at the moment half-lidded in amusement at her partner's fussing. Both of the strangers were rather pale, as if they spent a great deal of time indoors. Nija wondered vaguely if they could possibly be siblings—and denounced the idea. Other than their skin tone, these two people looked nothing alike.
"I'm okay? Really?" Nija tried as the boy picked up the Pokeball she'd dropped. "Seriously. I'd tell you if I were mortally wounded. I'm good."
"Orion, she's fine," the girl said, chuckling. "Do you do this to every person you accidentally bump into?"
"Hey, to be fair, I sent you flying when I ran into you yesterday," he said, grinning sheepishly. Turning back to Nija, he said, "Well, I really am sorry."
"Oh, I believe it," Nija said, a small smile peering onto her face almost against her will. It was difficult to stay brooding and angry for long, especially with such entertaining people before her. "Pleased to meet you?"
Orion beamed and shook her outstretched hand. "I'm Orion, Fremont. And you?"
"Nija Ikira," she said. Turning her gaze to the girl, she offered her now-free hand.
"Oh," the girl said, seeming to snap out of a temporary daze. "Sorry. I'm Azrael."
Nija noticed that she didn't give a last name, but that wasn't really concerning her at the moment. Instead, she was trying to place exactly where she had heard the name "Fremont" before. It was so burningly familiar, and she really felt that she should know it. Her memory wasn't being helpful, though, so she stored it away and decided to think about it later.
"Well, I'm gonna drop off my Pokemon at the Center," she said, moving around the two strangers and turning to the front desk. After a moment, she turned around again. "You two heading out to Mount Moon or something?"
Orion nodded. "Pretty soon, actually," he said. "Well, after we stop at the Mart to get some supplies, that is. It's been a pleasure, Nija—I mean, besides the whole me hitting you in the face thing, that is—" he seemed to be wincing at every word he said, and Nija gave him a reassuring smile.
"It's alright, dude. See you!"
"Bye," Orion called cheerily, holding the door for Azrael.
The black-haired girl have Nija a somewhat sad smile and called back, "Bye," as the two of them walked out of the Center—and out of Nija's life, most likely—forever.
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How depressing, Nija thought to herself, tossing her newly-healed pokeball up in the air and catching it. You meet all these cool people and then poof! They're off and you probably never see them again.
Indeed, training was a lonely route. Nija found herself wondering if Jason and she would part ways after this, and secretly she hoped they wouldn't. She found that she rather liked traveling with someone else—she wasn't sure why the thought hadn't occurred to her before.
Well, duh, Nija, she told herself, rolling her eyes. As if there was anyone to travel with back in Pallet. She could just see it now: "Hey, Amaris, wanna go on a Pokemon journey with me? Hyuk hyuk!" She'd get denied so fast her head would spin. And after it was done spinning she'd have to get it checked for brain damage, because there was no way short of a severe head injury that she'd even consider befriending the insufferable brat.
Thinking of Amaris worked its magic on her yet again, and Nija was on her feet and starting off towards the grassy area to train again. She wondered vaguely if she could bottle the intense ambition and motivation thinking about her rival inspired in her. If she could, she'd be able to market it and make millions. She'd call it "Eu de Asshole."
She had to admit that she was feeling somewhat in better spirits. Certainly her loss had been daunting—she'd still shudder in mortification at the memory of it for a while—but it had served at least one useful purpose. She was now even more driven to defeat the gym leader that had so unceremoniously handed her a defeat, no matter how tolerant of her inappropriate questioning he'd been afterwards.
Halfway out to the edge of the City she ran into Jason again. It looked as if he'd been training, too—Nija could tell by the hundreds of tiny paper-cut looking marks all over his arms and face. Wincing in empathy, Nija paused. "Bulbasaur miss target or something?"
"If only that's what he was doing! I could handle a blind Pokemon that was too stupid to know the enemy from its own trainer, but this malicious streak has got to go!" he seemed to be just as fired up as she was, even if it was for a different reason. "He's driving me insane, Nija, I swear… say, you heading out to train?"
Nija nodded, and although Jason looked as though he'd been training all the live long day, he quickly asked if she would mind him tagging along for a quick spar. Nija smiled—the first real smile she'd had since her defeat at the hands of Armstrong—and nodded again. "Sure, no prob. We can swap horror stories, as well—I haven't had a remarkable day myself, either."
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The two had settled comfortably into seats in the Pokemon Center some time later, a rather intense training session under their respective belts. Nija had won her battle with Jason, but neither of them had really been surprised about that. Bulbasaur had been lax and difficult, doing whatever it wanted whenever it wanted, and Nija had had a type advantage anyway. After that the two had split off and, Nija thought, surely purged the entire perimeter of Pewter City of any Pokemon willing to attack passerby.
The two had filed back into the Center about an hour later and now Nija was just finishing up the tale of her remarkably dismal day and was sipping at a cup of cocoa in one hand while Jason expressed a number of emotions—empathy for her defeat, cheeky confidence that Charmander was only two or so levels away from a serious, ass-kicking new technique, and mild confusion and detached horror as to the circumstances surrounding Brock and his wife's deaths.
They were discussing that matter right now, and Jason was running off on a one-sided tangent, spinning strange ideas and speculations accompanied by more questions than Nija could even make up answers to.
"Wow. D'you think it was some kind of an accident? I hear that gym leaders get into a lot of those. Dangerous stuff. I respect gym leaders a ton, doing what they do even though they know they're always at a big risk. I know a lot of them, but still… some of them aren't too "right" in the head. I heard that Koga, from Fuchsia City went missing a long time ago, too. I wonder why Brock's death didn't make so much of the news? I mean, you and I both didn't know that he was gone till today. Koga's been in the tabloids for ages. I wonder if he's—you know, dead. That would be pretty awful… two of the first gym leaders like ever dead."
Nija really had no opinions on the matter of his death, and didn't really want to speculate the possible causes of it one way or another. She'd always been highly sensitive to issues like that, as she wasn't at all sure if her own biological parents were still alive or not, although she rarely thought about it these days. There was simply too much to do.
Jason had shifted gears now and Nija settled gratefully into listening to his accounts of the depths of Bulbasaur's malicious streak.
"He pretended that there was some kind of Pokemon behind me and sent his vines shooting straight over my shoulder, right next to my ear! I thought he was going to break a hole open in the front of my face! And when I looked around there wasn't anything there and he had this oh-so-innocent look on his face like 'What? There was something there' and ARGH!" Jason cut himself off, shaking his head and frowning determinedly off into space. "I swear I'm going to get this guy to listen to orders, or my name isn't Jason Fremont!"
And there it was, clicking into place. Fremont. "Say, Jason," Nija started, scratching her head. "Do you have a brother or something?"
The effect this simple question had on him was astounding. His mug clattered down to the table and hot chocolate sloshed over one of his hands. He didn't appear to have noticed. "Why do you ask?" His sky blue eyes were wide and questioning, as if the answer to his query could change the fate of the planet.
"Ahh… because there was a blonde guy heading out to the Mart that said his name was Orion Fremont, and I just figured that since it's… not a very common… uh, name you two might be—?"
She didn't even bother finishing her thought as Jason had begun scrambling out of his seat at the word "figured," had gotten halfway to the door at "common" and was pushing through them and out into the 3:00 heat as she trailed off. "Wait up, dude!" she called, shooting out of her seat and calling after him. "He's probably not there be at Mount Moon already!"
She was certain she'd been loud enough to hear, but Jason made no sign of acknowledgment. It was hot outside, but Nija nevertheless followed him at a steady trot, not bothering to try to catch him. She'd just ask Jason what that was all about in good time.
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The first Author's Note!
Okay, that chapter was WAY too long. I apologize for my ineptitude at planning my chapters in a way that will make them near the same length. I'm going to take this opportunity to clear up a few things I might have left fuzzy:
1) If the time it takes the characters to make it through forests or side paths or Route (insert any number here) seems strangely short, it's because this story is based largely off of the Red/Blue version games. While it would take Ash & Co. about three to four days to get through the Viridian forest, it takes the Gameboy player about thirty seconds, no? So, Kanto and Jhoto are a lot smaller in my story.
2) Strange Gym leader pairings-- I didn't want to pair Brock with any OC's, so I'm going to leave his wife eternally nameless. Fill in the blanks with anybody from any version of Pokemon you like. I'm not a fan of the Surge + Sabrina pairing (I kind of thought WTH to myself when I thought up that circumstance for this fic, but it'll make a little more sense eventually). Obviously their marriage didn't work out, so... I don't really consider this a S+S fic, as they're blatantly not in love by any stretch of the imagination.
3) The whole " is out of usable Pokemon! blacked/whited out!" Oh yeah, I had a LOT of trouble with this one. So I've come to this sad little conclusion: in this fic, when you battle an official (Gym leader, dojo master, Elite 4) and lose, one of their Pokemon is to escort or transport you back to the nearest Center and fend off the wild Pokemon from eating you, or something. If you're out in the woods and you get K.O'd from wild Weedle or something, a Chansey from the nearest Center is notified by a device that's built into the Pokeballs and is transported to your location totake you back home with it. Lame, yes, but I couldn't think of anything betterand I'm sticking to it: \
4) Team Rocket. Team Rocket is bad in my fic. Bad and dangerous and not particularly funny in any real way. No "blasting off" or Jesse/James here, I'm afraid!
I... THINK that's all for now. Of course, no one was asked to read this add-on, and it makes no real impact to the story whether it's read or not. I only hope that if anyone had questions regarding the above they were somewhat answered. Thankee mucho for wasting your time here!
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