As I headed into Route 39 with all those angry thoughts behind me, I saw this guy.
He was the older-man-with-a-brown suit type. Seriously, where do these older men find their fantastic, travel weary clothing? Regular department stories do not supply such rugged clothing, and used stores don't sell a million of one thing...I think. I usually buy new clothes from the mall.
Anyways, the guy.
"Oh! What you are holding is...what they call...a Pokédex."
I blinked. "I'm not holding my Pokédex right now."
"Well, it's sticking out of your bag. So pretend you are."
"Okay."
"Anyway. I haven't seen one of those in ages."
"Ah, right...now who are you?"
"My name is Baoba."
"Baoba?"
"Yes. I used to own a Safari Zone at Fushsia City, but it was becoming out of date with new entertainment options coming out."
"Yikes." I studied the man, from head to toe. Life on the streets had made him rough. Any bloke could tell that.
"I decided to go overseas to learn the newest technology," Baoba continued, "and open a state-of-the-art Safari Zone in Cianwood."
"That location's not so hot," I warned. "Isn't Cianwood way over, near the sea?"
"Yes. Perfect summer vacation hotspot!"
"What about the rest of the year?"
"I'll deal with that when it comes."
"Um...okay."
Baoba paused in consideration, before warmly smiling at me. "It may be more than coincidence that we are chatting. It may even be fate! Why don't we register each other's numbers in the Pokégear? I'll give you a call when the Safari Zone is opened."
If I was Holden Caulfield, I would've thought of him to be a "phony," but since I'm not, I registered Baoba's phone number. Hey, I've got some faith in the world...although I don't always show it.
As I walked on I saw that photography guy—I allowed him to take my picture, even though the background was nothing more than a farm. I was in the countryside, plain and simple. Green hills loomed on the horizon. Miltanks frolicked about a small pasture, confined in by classic white fences. I supposed that the log cabin that overlooked it was the farmer's house. I knocked on the door and I had my answer in a middle-aged man with a dusty shirt. He commented, rather casually, on his cows—"they ain't givn' milk n'more," as he put in.
I was barely able to understand him, considering my background. New Bark is as much country as city, and I went to boarding school in the city during the schooling months. Still, I managed to get out of him that his cows need some berries. Perhaps their nutrition was lacking?
Out in the stables, there was a stall with twin girls and one cow. The girls looked apologetic and stressed out. The cow was sick. It weakly cried out. My insides torn with pity, I gave the cow all the Oran Berries I had (it was the only berry it would accept). It wasn't enough, so I left the place with a heavy heart. I probably should have grown a bunch of Oran Berries and then gave it stuff, but I couldn't help myself.
I headed south to Olivine from there, coming across a sailor. He'd told me that he'd just recently got back to Olivine. So why did he immediately challenge me to battle? Sheesh, he should've return to the city and check out what's new, not waste time battling with me.
Anyway, he gave out a loud cry after his defeat, the outcome which I had so coldly orchestrated. I studied him before asking him a thing or two about Olivine. I found out there was a Gym Leader there, which sounded interesting enough so I continued south. The other two Trainers there had about as much sense as the sailor did—one of them asked me if it's okay to brag about his Pokémon. The answer was that it wasn't okay, because Kitty knocked it out with one hit. The third one saw me win against the other one, yet still challenged me. This baffled me to no end, because she had the same Pokémon as the other one and hers was less powerful, too. Way I view it, she should've known she wouldn't win. I asked her on it.
She laughed. "I don't mind losing."
I gaped at her. Finally I said, "Your Pokémon feel pain. How can you not understand that?"
She paled, and I left her.
And so, onward to Olivine!
It was a happy little place, with the sea at one side and the ground paved with pretty gray mosaics. I could hear, from the distance, the faint calls of ships. At the town square, there were clothing lines above me, thoughtfully decorated with the flags and boastful banners. To my right was the Gym, and to the distant left I could see a large, prominent lighthouse. Even from far away I could see the small dots of humans standing near the lighthouse, some of them pacing in a strangely agitated manner.
I turned towards the Gym. And I paled. All my happiness faded away as I stared at the Gym, or rather, the angry young "gentleman" that got out of it. This "gentleman" had the kind of confident aura usually only bad boys in romances had, though the aura was considerably dampened simply by examining him. His oily flaming red hair, long for a boy, was messed up by the sea breeze. (His hair appeared way too tangled to look attractive.) There was also a rather large strawberry yogurt stain on the front of his black jacket. On top of that, his shirt was too short and to be honest, it kind of made his thin body look fat for some reason. The style must not have suited him, or something. There was even ketchup smeared around Pikachu Boy's mouth, giving him the odd appearance of a Halloween vampire.
As I watched him from afar, I knew that he was oblivious to these obvious flaws in his appearance.
He came over to me, and said nothing. All he did was stare at my face intently.
I cleared my throat. "You can stop staring at me. I assure you, I'm alive."
Finally, Pikachu Boy spoke.
"You again?"
"I could say the same towards you," I said. "And if you want to battle again, so soon after that last defeat, I'll—"
"You shouldn't be so tense, bitch," Pikachu Boy commented. "I don't bother with wimps like you."
"Don't make me laugh at you again."
"Well, the city's Gym Leader isn't here, and is apparently taking care of a sick Pokémon."
"Thank you for telling me, little one. Now run along to the Pokémon Center. I'm sure they need to know about that, too."
Pikachu's face flushed red. I looked at him expectantly, waiting for the rant to come in. It did.
"Humph! Boo-hoo! Let the sick die. If they can't battle, they are worthless!"
" 'Kay, now stop talking to me," I said, beginning to get irritated again. My rudeness towards Pikachu Boy is quite staggering at times, but that boy can't stop infuriating me.
I think it was the space between me and Pikachu that was getting to me—my hat was touching his forehead, do you know? We were walking circles around the Pokémon Gym because I kept trying to get away from him. Pikachu was probably thinking that I was "antisocial," or shit, but I wasn't having any of it. I thought he was as pushy as hell. So there were some great lapses in our conversation as we kept edging away and to each other.
It didn't exactly help that I was blushing. I wanted to tell Pikachu Boy so badly that he had ketchup on his face right then, but I wasn't sure how to say that without feeling embarrassed myself. Also, now that I was close enough, I could tell that one hard downward tug on his shirt would fix the poking out stomach problem, and that the yogurt on the jacket was still wet and easy to clean off. Pikachu, however, seemed to completely misunderstand the reason of my blushing. He had this taunting, daredevil grin all of a sudden, because he thought that I fucking liked him. I don't think I've ever been more misunderstood, period.
"You know, you should train at the lighthouse," Pikachu said, still smiling, his sticky right hand brushing against my left hand. The sad thing was, I think he did that on accident.
I awkwardly limboed away, hardly aware of what I was doing until my spine started to ache.
"It might just make you a better Trainer!" Pikachu was saying, with an absurdly cheerful look present on his face.
"Just go away," I actually blurted out.
Pikachu was still smiling. He just couldn't stop. He must have thought that I loved him so much, I couldn't stand to be around him in fear of embarrassing myself. So he ended up humiliating himself with that terrible assumption. He started to walk backwards, away from me, with a flamboyant and idiotic smile on his face. I inanely watched him.
"Okay, then," he told me in a singsong voice. "I'm going away."
I must've looked like I was about to cry. I was trying to hold back my laughter, you see. So I ended up leaning against the Gym, choking back laughter. Pikachu must have thought that I was choking back tears, so he kind of hesitated. But then he got even more certain that I was passionately in love with him.
In fact, he was so preoccupied watching my "sorrow," he walked backwards into a cart of fish that some sailor was moving. Screaming, he flopped downwards like a rag doll into a pile of fish and some blood. The merchant started yelling mercilessly at Pikachu, trying to shove him off, but Pikachu was stuck. There was some trillion pound fish that was lying on top of his leg.
I was so shocked, I didn't even react. I just rubbed my eyes and stared at the dirty and tearful Pikachu in disbelief. I have seen many things in this world, but I have never seen anybody as uncoordinated, pathetic, or as hapless as Pikachu, ever. That boy's got a gift for the theater, I think. Whatever he needs to act up won't live up to this.
I probably should have helped him, but my mind was utterly blank with incredulity. So all I did was stand and gap at the little bastard with my arms crossed in an undignified leadership position.
The cart turned the corner, and Pikachu was pushed out of the cart by a furious Machop in tights. For a few moments, Pikachu Boy sat on the floor, flabbergasted. He smelled of fish and was wearing some, too. He looked right at me with wide eyes, then paled before running off dramatically towards the opposite direction. There were tears in his eyes, either from the total humiliation or the stinky odor of the fish.
So he went away.
Good riddance.
Do not think go away thinking I am completely heartless. No, I feel bad for him, all right. He's now stinking like it's nobody's business, on top of everything else. I pity him, and I pity the person he stands next to in the grocery store also.
There are no good showers around here when you're on your Pokémon journey. My socks can tell you that much.
Author's Note
There was a Catcher in the Rye reference, did you catch it?
I didn't actually like that book. But I cannot deny its influence on this fanfic.
