This story was co-developed by Titan127 and beta read by ShonnaRose and JhinoftheOpera.
[9-1] She Who Has Everything
Kris hung in the cold and dared her fingers to autoamputate. See if a little frostbite bothered her. The whips of residual flame from her partner's attacks were enough to warm her up, and the singing lashes drew steam from the sweat on her skin. She ignored the pain, knowing that her skin would be clear as a gemstone when she woke up tomorrow.
She threw down her arm to her side. "Refresh Fire Spin!"
As fire clashed with the cold, a cyclone formed, replacing one that had recently burned out. The whirling fire prodded at the target within, and though it wasn't ultimately very effective, small chips of damage were quick to stack up.
Kiki tore her fins through the flames and leapt through, racing down the courtyard of the Sinnoh League with her claws poised to split Zara in two. She vaulted over the frozen central fountain.
"Take flight!" Kris ordered.
Before Zara could fly out of range, a voice came from Kiki's arm. A Pokétch hung for dear life between the Garchomp's spines, its volume maxed and its speakers already garbled by the firepower they were lugging around. However, it was still functional enough to broadcast her brother's order, loud and clear. "Command: Dragon Rush!"
Kiki blasted into the air from a standstill, throwing all her weight—and her exposed spines—into Zara just before her wings could catch air. Kris's partner barreled towards her, and rather than dodge, she stood her ground with her hands raised.
Hundreds of kilograms of weight and force were transferred to her palms all at once. Her shoes split open as it surfed her muscles all the way to her feet. She pushed back with all she had and Zara came to a sudden stop, slumping in front of her.
"Doing okay?" she asked. It was a mostly neutral question. She wasn't exactly worried, and she couldn't say she was that excited earlier.
Her partner raised her drooping neck and a plume of smoke escaped her nostrils. That was a yes, then. Good.
"Then get back in there," said Kris, giving her Charizard a little push at the small of her back. The creature stumbled forward a few paces until she had space to unfurl her full wingspan
"We aren't finished yet," said her opponent. "Command: Dragon Claw!"
Unable to use Ground-type moves without damaging Sinnoh League property and making some important people very, very angry, Kiki was still a force to be reckoned with. She was upon them instantly, and the air itself split behind her violet glowing claws. A wound split open in Zara's side, and on instinct, she replied by gaping her jaw and burning through all the reserves her flame sac had left.
The Fire Blast engulfed them both. Kris held up both her hands to shield herself from the sudden heat as the entire courtyard was blanketed in steam. She knew the outcome before her vision was cleared. No matter the output, Garchomp were still naturally resistant to Fire. Kris waded through the wisps to find the picturesque finale, Kiki in a savage pose over her downed opponent.
The flames had inadvertently cauterized the cut in the Chariard's side. It looked a bit tender, though, so she'd check her in with the League nurses for a night of rest. Zara retreated to her capsule.
"Do you mind clearing the place out?" Kris asked the standing Pokémon.
With a small nod, the tall creature sliced through the steam, dissipating the cover over the courtyard, and bent down to offer her arm. Kris slipped off the damaged Pokétch, thanked her, and told her to wait just a bit. She wandered over to a nearby pillar, pressed her back against it, and slid down onto her butt.
She could feel every prick of the chilling air. Maybe it was masochistic of her, but since she was allowed to wander the grounds outside the building now, she found herself passing on a jacket to drink in everything the sky would throw at her. Maybe it was just to prove that she was free.
Well, almost. She could see a chaperone in the distance by the main entrance to the building, partially obscured by a pillar. She had clarified with the Viceroy that she didn't want people breathing down her neck, but having goons spy from afar was worse in some ways.
"—still there? Is the audio still working on the device?" asked her brother.
"Yeah," she said. "Just spacing out."
She'd fulfilled his request and did her sibling duty of being someone Saber could throw words at. He started finding time every day to call home and act like there was absolutely nothing unusual about this. Well, she was glad he was taking the initiative, because she wasn't sure she was ever going to get around to it even when Dr. Cassius was passing his numbers along.
She wondered if they got into an argument. He said they weren't talking anymore or something, but she didn't care too much, since she didn't have the best conversations with him either.
Kris had to admit, there was some distant enjoyment in listening to Saber's small talk, probably the same reason she kept dragging herself to Lucian day after day to let him try and rile her up. She just wondered why he acted like he felt the same, when she was probably about as engaging to talk to as a fishing Slowpoke.
"Are you truly okay with damaging your Pokétch?" he asked.
"We're rich," she replied. She could buy a new one as readily as most people bought gumballs from 25 machines, or so she assumed. She'd never used one.
"Yes, but the principle."
"Aren't you the one who suggested this?"
This made him pause. "Ahem, well, I considered this might help since I was able to make use of it during a high-stress situation! It's surprisingly effective despite the lack of visuals."
"Yeah. Pretty effective."
She tried to imagine he was actually sitting next to her at the pillar under the prickling air. Maybe she should have asked to play him in a round of Dragon King before he left—she even bought the new game, Dragon King SPECIAL, which was still comfortable in its plastic wrapping. Her thoughts seemed to wander anywhere except towards the match she just finished, and the sequence of its events was already fading from her memory. Had she opened with Flamethrower? She tried the syllables on her lips to see if her body remembered.
"You seem distant," he said, after a long pause. "Was this training not successful?"
"It's not that. Or, maybe. I just don't feel that into it." She found herself saying it casually. Training never felt like the goal, just means to an end, and today it was an excuse to feel the outside. She said, "I'm basically doing it for the sake of the Pokémon, keep them exercised, all that."
"Well, that is important. But the World Trial next year will demand one-hundred percent of your will just like it did mine, so it might excite you to think about it." He was so nonchalant about forcing emotions into her head. They bounced off the armor she'd wrapped herself in, and her expression didn't waver.
She remembered all the cheering fans at the PWT a few months ago, many of them screaming for her to join the tournament to end all tournaments. She remembered being excited for it then, but next July felt centuries away.
Her head turned to the overcast sky. It was going to snow again, and they were getting closer to the heavy winter. Centimeters would turn into meters, and a roaming blizzard was bound to bar the doors of the Sinnoh League with a neck-height cover at least once in the upcoming season. She really needed to enjoy the outdoors before they were snowed in for a few months.
Huh. A few months. Was she really expecting to weather her imprisonment for that long?
"Perhaps you could negotiate a new position with the Viceroy to let you leave," said Saber, which made her breath slow. "Once I'm finished with what I'm doing, I'm certain I could get you motivated for battle again."
"Don't."
He didn't have a response prepared; Kris was evidently full of surprises. He eventually said, "You can't sit around forever."
"I said don't," she hissed. "I'm not you, and I can't just stand up and keep chugging along like nothing ever happened."
"I didn't say that."
"You meant it."
He sighed on the other end, however far that was. Maybe he was all the way in Canalave, researching in that huge library and finding all sorts about the Unown language. Sometimes she wished that weird drive of his and his unwavering smile and his boundless energy would rub off on her, but no. She felt exhausted trying to keep up.
There had always been that difference between them. She groaned and complained through her studies and her training even as she succeeded beyond measure, too afraid of the alternative. On the other hand, she never really knew if he struggled at all—did he curse overwhelming odds when no one was looking, or lie in bed on days he didn't feel capable? They both had to keep up appearances for the prying cameras, but Saber was never really an actor, was he?
People probably though the same of her too, when they assumed she'd ace that test or win that battle because she was born to do it. A condescending snort ripped from her nose. They'd laugh and jeer at the pitiful kid she really was.
"Have you—" He struggled for even a simple topic. "Have you done anything interesting lately?"
When did she last leave the suite? Her session this week, or was she thinking of last week's session? No, it was this week. It was today. It was only hours ago. He asked her to talk about her relationship with her Pokémon, forcing her to tip-toe around self-incriminating answers. Relationship was a strong word for how much time she spent in bed, only bringing them out for training and lies. The guilt had spurred her into the training session today, realizing that she hadn't released any of them from stasis in days.
She still hated him. But what else did she even have to talk about, when she spent so much time letting time pass her by.
"I went to see Lucian today," she said.
"Oh, are you arranging to see counseling with him?" asked Saber with an irritating pep.
"Already done. This was the," she paused, "the third week or something. I go on Tuesdays."
"Really? That's wonderful! I'm certain Dr. Furutre will be able to help elevate your spirits, and you'll be better in no time," he said.
You'll be better. That angered her. It made her furious. She couldn't narrow down exactly why, but all the blood her extremities needed rushed to nearby capillaries and went skyward to her head. She grabbed her own face and squeezed her skull within her fingers, trying to crush her brain and wring the feeling out of it. She whispered, "Please stop."
"I believe I can find who murdered them. I can put our parents to rest for you. And then we can—"
"SHUT UP!" she screamed, and she slammed the Pokétch into the pavement. Its already damaged shell exploded into plastic chips and circuits. The speaker processed a few more moments of static noise before it sputtered its last.
Through her eyes, she bled her anger into her hands, and expected them to be red when she finally could see through her clouded vision. Kris clawed at her face to make the tears go away.
Why did he always have to be so invincible? And why did he seem to expect her to be the same? Every corner of her being wanted to tear herself apart knowing that he was waiting for her.
She just wanted him to give up, or to find what he was looking for and help the police deliver justice. She didn't care as long as it was over!
Kris didn't know how long Kiki had been standing over her. She felt even colder in the giant creature's shadow, blocking what little of the mid-morning sun could make it through the clouds. She lifted her head to Garchomp, maybe praying for some comfort, but instead she found something much worse.
Her fins and claws were angled inward. Timid. Her shoulders hunched and her eyes drooped, on the verge from crying herself—if her species even could. The scales that normally weaved mail across her body were raised in alarm.
"W-what's up?" she asked.
Kiki's clawed leg kicked over the remains of the Poké GEAR, the parts skidding and rolling to a stop by her feet.
Kris didn't move, and her voice trembled. "The call?"
She realized what had been said. Kris let Saber go where he shouldn't have. He'd spoken loud enough to reach Kiki's ears.
I believe I can find who murdered them. I can put our parents to rest.
"No, no, no, Kiki, it's not what you think! He was just talking about something else." She fought through her raw throat because her life almost certainly depended on it. "Really, nothing's wrong. I'd tell you if anything was… wrong."
But Kiki was already falling apart. It looked like her sagging arms were about to pop off her shoulders, and she couldn't even keep her head up.
Kris had been very careful never to let Rick be near his teammates. From the moment the Lucario's braids rose she knew he'd sensed something, and she had to withhold him until she found the right time to tell the rest of the group. She just didn't want them to be sad. She just didn't want them to feel like she did.
Of course, that was the only reason. It wasn't because she was being selfish, refusing to face the truth like a child.
Her balled fist relaxed, as she no longer could muster enough strength to hold it. She whispered, "I didn't mean to lie to you."
Those eyes morphed from empty to savage, and she was bombarded with a horrible screech. A seismic blast erupted as Kiki slashed her fins through the air, taking instant flight. She could do nothing but watch as the Garchomp glided from the seat of the Sinnoh League and disappeared towards the valley skyline.
"Kiki, wait! Please!" screamed Kris over the horizon. The syllables failed as her voice was ground to dust. She fired a beam from Kiki's Poké Ball, but she was far out of range by the time her hand touched the button.
A Pokémon had never run from her before. There was nothing preventing them from trying besides mutual trust and the bond forged between Pokémon and Trainer. But she just watched it happen.
She was gone.
The skin on her knees split when she hit the pavement, but she couldn't feel any pain. There was no feeling at all, and that was a feeling she increasingly welcomed.
The agent, who had no doubt seen it all from his voyeur's hideaway, was by her side a few moments later. He was an older man whose blond beard was dotted with gray. As per the Viceroy's new instruction, he didn't move closer until he asked for her permission.
"Ma'am," he said, "do you need some assistance?"
All Kris could say was, "I want to go to bed."
He nodded softly, and gently touched her forearm. "As you wish, miss."
She clutched the black box to her chest and prayed for a dream.
Kris learned quickly that sleeping was an easy way to forget about the jaws eating her stomach inside out and took to ignoring nightly rest altogether if it meant an easy out whenever she needed it. She'd starved her body, only relieving its torture to escape her own.
When Kris realized she could see herself in the glossy reflection of her wooden bedframe, she switched off the lights and ripped out the switch with her bare hands. It landed somewhere within a forest of discarded assignment papers that had fallen off the tilted stack on her dresser. All incomplete, all past due. She wore some papercuts from trudging through them each day, which now rubbed painfully under the fabric of her blanket.
Her curtains were drawn, and the autumn clouds wouldn't budge, so her room was perpetually cast only in whispers of light.
And yet sometimes, she still saw herself in the glossy wood. Maybe it was just the gloss of an eye or a nail, but it was enough to make her curl up beneath the blanket and grip the box tighter. That specter haunted her.
She didn't know how many days she spent like this since Kiki disappeared. Her Trainer was gone, Kris could barely be called one, and without her Poké Ball in range to retrieve her, she was as good as wild.
Maybe it was better that way.
Kris couldn't provide what she needed. All she seemed to do nowadays was cry and complain and say she was tired, and her "training" lacked all of what she used to be. It took a single match for Lucian to see right through her.
She hoped the Garchomp was searching for Saber, the one who really deserved to inherit her. The next time she left her room, she would do the same with the other capsules. Apologize to them, cry for them, and let them free from the hell she'd become.
The World Trial? What a joke. She wouldn't be ready for it, nor the next, or the one after.
That was okay. That was fine. It wouldn't have been fun anyway. All those magazines and fansites had caught the wrong girl.
"Lucian was right about you."
Her eyes snapped open, alarms blaring at her lack of privacy. She must have drifted away, and a guard came to rouse her. But when she peeked above her covers, there was nobody—just the vague mist of light.
Some movement flashed in her periphery, and her eyes narrowed onto the wooden canopy support at the corner of her bed. Kris leaned forward until the figure warped over the wooden block became clear. It was her. Just her reflection.
"You're failing everyone," the voice said. "Your Pokémon. Your friends. Your family. You."
She swore its mouth moved. When she tilted her head to view it from another angle, it followed her, or maybe it didn't. She must have finally fallen asleep.
"Do you enjoy it?" she asked.
Kris collapsed into her pillows, letting them consume her. "No. I don't."
"Yes, you do. Lucian was right."
"What?" she asked softly. Lucian never ever called her a failure.
"You're content," replied the other. It stabbed her with words, each new sound another blade through her gut. "You're perfectly happy to sit here while everything burns around you. You'll even light the fires yourself."
"N-no, I'm not. I'm not content."
"Yes you are. Yes you are. Yes you are," it mocked. It was like a bully, skipping around her with glee after tossing her in the dirt. Kris used the blanket as a chipped and brittle shield, but its voice never left even when her vision went dark.
It continued its assault from the netherworld, reaching into her plane to grasp her by the neck and crush her trachea, making the box slip from her grasp and tumble off the bed. She clawed at her neck to free herself and gasped for the stale air as if it was the freshest breeze her lungs had ever tasted.
"You're just so happy to let everyone else handle everything while you sit around. Like a failure. Like a nobody," said the specter.
"Why the fuck would I be happy?" She gasped at the swear leaving her mouth. That kind of vulgarity was supposed to beneath someone like her.
The other Christine laughed, however it was possible. An embarrassing sound, the only noise in her massive bedroom aside from the busted clock's faint ticking. "Think about it. You've got a privilege. You've got everything you ever wanted."
What did she want? To train Pokémon? To conquer the World Trial, just like her mother and father? To graduate school and become a famed academic? To have friends? To have fun?
Kris didn't know if she ever truly wanted those things, or if they were thrust upon her. The world told her she'd follow in her parents' footsteps, so she did. Her parents told her she'd need to excel in school, so she did. Someone told her she would, so she did.
Now she'd abandoned her training and the World Trial. With so many abandoned assignments, she'd soon fail her first year of university. She barely talked to anyone, and she couldn't keep a smile on her face.
Yet somehow, not having any of those things, she had everything she wanted. The one thing she wanted.
Her other self giggled. "You figure it out yet?"
Televisions stopped talking about Christine Masuta. They could guess how she felt, how much it hurt her, and they gave her space. Her parents weren't here for her to live up to. And when Kiki abandoned her, all she could believe was that it was better.
The public had given up. The League had given up. Her Pokémon had given up.
That was all she wanted.
No one expected anything from her anymore.