Remembrance
Chapter; Numero Zero
Three tombstones
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Far towards the back of the unkempt graveyard, there lay in the space usually reserved for family plots 3 small graves. From a cursory inspection one might come to the conclusion that these three graves were, in the grand scheme of things, unimportant. This was true as far as it went, and yet at the same time utterly wrong.
No one life is important over the course of the universe, or the path of the planet we humans trudge upon, or even any ten, hundred or thousand lives. However, in the history of the lands once named Kanto, Johto and Hoenn, these three lives were chiefly involved in events which had far-reaching consequenses throughout the regions..
If the grime and gunge were to be cleaned off the unassuming headstones one might be able to make out a single word on each, which, if translated, would result in three names. Three unnasuming names. Far too trivial to be descriptions for the souls who had such impacts, good and bad, upon the populace of the three lands.
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The walls of her enclosure were a dull grey, cold and metallic, with a kind of white noise audible whenever she came close to them. This had long failed to produce any kind of interest. Images and scenes kept running through her mind, disappearing just as quickly. Why couldn't she concentrate on anything? She could almost recall that she had once been able to create... create what? It was maddening, to not be able to remember.
The girl, who was really almost a woman, had become emaciated to the point of starvation during her years of enforced solitude. Looking around her cell, she could see the mildew in the corners of the roof and where the ceiling was crumbling.Grey. Grey everwhere. Her clothes were grey rags. Her hair, which had once been bright, full of life, had turned grey and thin. When she closed her eyes, grey was all she could see. The only change in scenery were the meals that she was given. Some days it was bread and water, some days rotting meat, some days a gloopy kind of porridge. It didn't matter what it was. It all got devoured. Afterwards though, she missed the color.
A primary constant among the constants of her captivity was an uninterrupted feeling of pressure upon, not her body, but her mind, perhaps the hollow void where she had once deemed her soul to lay. A feeling of being pushed down, of being crushed, of not being able to reach all of her mind. Or was this normal?
Sometimes she heard muffled snatches of conversation from the guards outside her door. Every few days, insofar as time was distinguishable in her captivity, she was taken to another room while blindfolded and beaten badly. It didn't seem to have a purpose. She was never questioned, never interrogated, never... never anything. She grew to despair of ever being released, of maintaining what shreds of her sanity remained.
Misty Waterflower had been broken.
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The view from here was intimidating. It was breathtaking. It was a number of marvellous things, the most prominent being final. Despite the pain he could feel, and the pain was close to all-encompassing, the man had never given up hope of escape. He supposed, in his penultimate reflections, that such was just the way he had been made, that he had been created for this purpose. He saw his one love, the woman he had married, who he had hoped to spend the rest of his life with, and felt reassured that his sacrifice was not in vain. He saw that his wife would not suffer the same fate as he, and thus was content to die, knowing that he had done so twice before, and in so doing, discovered that death does end all pain, whether it be pain of the heart, or of the mind.
He had not died in vain. His life had had purpose. He would carry on in the hearts of those who had known him, who had stood by him in the midst of relevation and revolution. If he had had a chance to change this life, he would not have taken it. He would have lived exactly the same. No regrets.
Holding his head head high for the few last minutes left to him, Ash Ketchum stood high at the top of the cliff where his execution was to take place. His eyes closed and his shoulders forced back by the manacles clasping his wrists behind him, Ash stood firm as a rope was tied firmly around his neck. He did not turn, did not speak, even when he heard a familiar voice behind him saying, "Please forgive me... I never meant it to come this far."
"Execute him."
With a twist of a lever, it was done. A man who had done it all, who had hit the top 16 at his first outing in the Pokemon league and had come first in his third, who had wed at 18, who had once been the runt of the litter, but was now the leader of the pack, a man who had lit the fire, the passion of a nation was dead. And this time, he wasn't coming back.
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"Execute him." Words that had rung around inside Giovannis head for hours. Immediately after he had followed that fateful command, a deafening silence had come over the far spread crowd at the base of the cliff. The ring of guards surrounding the thousand strong group has become nervous, even with their trust in their Pokemon and themselves. The cluster set to murmering, an angry grumble. Several of the guards had sent forth pokemon, a number of red rays partially blinding observers until a variety of menacing shapes had been formed. Each growled in its own fashion, sensing the battle ahead. This acted not so much as a deterrant, but more as a signal to charge.
A fury rose up suddenly, the atmosphere very nearly as thick as the roar of condemnation raised by the assembled peoples. The rabble, pokemonless, weaponless, leaderless, acted as one, charging and overwhelming the guards and their pokemon, stampeding up and around to the clifftop, where those who had perpetrated this monster of a crime had been. Sensing the temporary shift in power, Giovanni and his masters had retreated to a closely located helicopter and escaped back to their fortress, what had once been known as "Silph Co."
Now, hours later, Giovanni stood alone in his quarters and remembered the short romance he had enjoyed with Delia Ketchum 20 years ago. Remembered the reports that he had gathered of his son, recalled how proud he was that his progeny was able to overcome the most talented agents of Team Rocket. He wished things could have been different, that he had married for love instead of money, had been able to raise and come to know his only child. Giovanni thought all these things and more as he went into the ensuite for his nightly and final shave, closing the door after he entered.
Moments later a gunshot was heard, followed shortly by a muffled thud. The late Rocket guards of the master were unable to shift the door open to find out what had happened. Even in death the massive godfather figure was unmovable.
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At first, she had been stunned, unable to comprehend. She had watched the most heroic, noble man she had ever known die the death of a criminal. The first thing she became aware of was the fact that she was screaming, a cry to the heavens, a plea to the gods to undo this one thing, to make her soul whole again. Then she realised that she had collapsed on the ground, and immediately began to crawl to the cliff-face across the grass, trying to get as close to her love as she could in a futile attempt to dull the pain.
Watching the spark of life in Ash be destroyed was the hardest thing she had ever had to do, but he was dying for her, and she craved every second she could spend with him. She had done so since she had first met him at the Imite Mansion that had been left to her from her parents will. Duplica had only spent a little time with Ash then, but he had spent time with her, and been her first real friend after Ditto. He was still travelling with Misty and... the other, at that point, but she had eyes only for Ash. Helping him defeat Team Rocket had been the highpoint of that year.
She had followed his exploits on the daily news, in the newspaper and most recently, online, until she had bitten the bullet and paid the cash to travel to the 56th annual Pokemon League, Ash's third league event, and his sixteenth birthday. Misty had been long gone by then, back to her Gym in Cerulean and Ash was only travelling with Brock. He had a large following at the event by then, however, so as alone as he may have been in the changerooms, he had a large number of friends in the grandstands. Duplica watched from afar for the first official battle, but at the end could stand it no longer. She raced down to the lockeroom, Ditto in tow, and flung her arms around his neck, surprising the absolute bejeesus out of his mother and of his mentor, Proffessor Oak. Once reaquainted, everyone was happy to see her, and Ash went on to win his first championship.
From then on, she had been a a constant presence in Ash's life. She sold the mansion for a queenly sum, purchased a small apartment in downtown Saffron, had her vital stuff transferred and hit the road with Ash and Brock, though not for long. Flint, Brocks once-estranged-but-now-back-in-the-family father had developed throat cancer, leaving him unable to care effectively for the mob of children-cum-teenagers that inhabited his house, forcing Brock back home, and leaving Duplica and Ash alone.
She now had an uninterrupted view of this adolescent, and what she saw was all goodness. He never lost his temper unfairly. He helped those in need. He kept his feelings in check when dealing with others. He was, in short, a well brought up young man. She didn't yet know it, but she was falling in love with this boy.
Neither Duplica nor Ash wanted to ruin a great friendship with love and both thought that their feelings were unreciprocated. They kept travelling together, keeping in contact with their friends, and in Ashs case with family, winning Pokemon battles, training together. They ate together, slept next to each other, told each other their innermost thoughts, bar one. One romantic moonlit night, Duplica worked up the courage to give Ash one quick kiss on the cheek. At first his blank expression told her that she'd made a mistake. She turned quickly and ran back to camp, thinking that she'd really done it, she'd screwed the pooch. She lay down in her sleepingbag, turned on her side away from the fire and lay with her eyes shut tight, crying soundlessly. Ash came and sat down behind her, gently wiped the tears from her eyes with one ungloved hand and kissed her on the mouth. They fell asleep holding each other.
Duplica Xeros Imite officially took the name Duplica Xeros Ketchum on her eighteenth birthday, at a ceremony held in the backyard of Delia Ketchums house in Pallet. A select Pokemon were in attendance, along with their extended friends and family. Duplica, for this occasion, had decided to show no restraint in her hair colour, this being HER day, and as such had gone for the entire spectrum in her hair. The dress she wore managed to complement such wild hair, and she looked absolutely stunning. Ash... well, guys wear tuxes, but to put his own spin on it, wore his tatty old league hat. Duplica took this in stride, as no matter what happened Ash was Ash and so was beautiful, and that was all that was important. All that bis/b important.
Duplica broke down into tears again, as she had been doing on and off for the last 3 hours betwixt periods of howling. She felt utterly alone in the world. Her home with Ash had been destroyed. Her/his pokemon had been exterminated. Her lover, her husband, her soulmate, had just given up his life in order that she have hers. Shakingly, haltingly, with pauses to scream at the injustice of it, at the brutality, Duplica climbed the cliff until she came to an opening in the cliff face which was large enough to keep her under cover, so that she could crawl up into a ball and mourn the loss of the beautiful man who she had the good fortune to fall in love with. She cursed the world, and set to cementing in her mind all the times she had shared with Ash, in order that she never forget any of them.
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A.N Written while listening to ACDC, Twisted Sister, Linkin Park, The Living End, Dire Straights and Mindless Self Indulgence. All excellent bands... oh wait, this is supposed to be about the story. Dark, and from the first chapter on will be told from the POV of a one-off minor character in the series, one who, IMHO has captured the imagination of the entire PKMN watching public. Let me know what you think.