(I am no longer sick, yay! I'll be updating the story every day again. Thanks imagnair for the kind words :) Enjoy! )

"N must have gone into the city. Where else would he be? He said there was that rally here and all that."

Hm. That sounds reasonable to assume.

King scratched at his cheek, scanning the city as they walked. He barely saw anything other than broken glass shards glinting in the sun, along with discarded trash tumbling along the sidewalks, but N was bound to be somewhere in Nimbasa, and so King and zoroark kept on going. The wing was blowing hard, plastering King's shirt to his chest, and he couldn't hear anything besides its howling. It was strange to be in a city without the honking horns and the low hum of conversation.

"They trashed this place," he said. "Seriously. The military must be having one hell of a time trying to fix everything. It's ironic, though, that N's the one to stop it, what with him having started it in the first place."

You know he's changed, King. It looked like he meant what he was saying to me.

King nodded slowly. "Suppose it did, zoroark. Suppose it-"

A loud crack interrupted him: a sound almost like a balloon popping. King recognized it, and froze in place, prompting zoroark to do the same.

What is it?

"That was a gunshot," King said quietly.

More noise broke through the veil of silence, carried by the gusts as if the gunshot were the first rock falling before a massive avalanche. Gradually, the distant hum grew louder until King could decipher what he was hearing. Screams and shouts. People crying out. He thought he could hear the roar of car engines and wailing sirens.

He nudged zoroark's arm, then broke into a run. It all appeared to be coming from one direction. "Come on, that's probably the rally! It sounds like they're rioting."

Zoroark kept pace to his right, long, red and black hair streaming out behind him. Why would someone shoot a gun?

They turned a corner. Cars abandoned at the sides of streets blurred by them. "I don't know, zoroark. We're about to find out."

King's heart thrummed in his ears as he ran, arms pumping. Was N alright? If he had started to speak in front of the crowd, and they hadn't liked what he'd told them, that bullet might have had his name on it. The thought turned King's stomach, permeating his mouth with a bitter taste. N was trying to fix his mistakes and do what was right. King knew what that was like, and it wasn't always easy.

The tops of Ferris wheels and the curving tracks of roller coasters were visible above the roofs of buildings long before they ever reached the amusement park in the center of the city. The rioting seemed to be escalating, from what King could hear, until it sounded as though he and zoroark were right on top of it.

They turned another corner. King stumbled and would have fallen if zoroark hadn't caught him. He couldn't even form the words in his mouth to thank the Pokemon.

The people were going insane. They were destroying some of the attractions, knocking over vending machines, toppling benches. Blood splattered the pavement from where people fought one another; for reasons King could only begin to guess. The acrid smell of smoke drifted in the air, trailing from the tongues of lapping flame that engulfed sections of the park. People ran, scattering, while others chanted 'down with the government!'. A news helicopter circled above.

"These are all Team Plasma members? What the hell set them off so much?" King asked, bewildered. He had to shout so zoroark could hear him, even though the Pokemon stood right beside him. "Come on! We have to find N!"

He darted forward, zoroark close at his heels. He moved this way and that to avoid those running by him, away from the rioting. Not all of them had completely lost their sense of reason and had it replaced with a feral need to destroy things, it seemed. What the hell is wrong with these people?

He didn't have any idea where N was, but he would have chosen somewhere high up, where the whole crowd could see him if he was going to give a speech. But where was that? Or was he even in that spot any longer?

Why did he have to run off like that? I offered to help the damn guy. I offered to help!

Look! There! King spun to look where zoroark was pointing. A platform below a Ferris wheel, where people would step onto before they entered one of the cars. There was a body there, face down and unmoving. The man had long green hair.

N.

"They shot him," King whispered. "They fucking shot him!"

He started in that direction when something crashed into him, sending him sprawling on the ground. His head smacked against the pavement, making his eyes go blank for a moment. When he came to, spots of light danced across his blurry vision, and a bearded face snarled at him. Hands gripped his shoulders.

"Trainer!" The man shouted, spittle flying. "Trainer!'

King clamped his jaw, trying to wriggle his way out, but the man kept him pinned. He reeled an arm back, blocking out the sun. King flinched, grimacing.

Suddenly the weight was off of him. He blinked as zoroark helped him stand.

"Thanks, buddy," he said, using zoroark to steady himself. Zoroark nodded. The man lay sprawled out a few feet away, groaning and holding his stomach. King turned his eyes back toward the platform.

The attention. It's on us now.

People had stopped in their rampaging to point and gasp. They were going to try and stop King, maybe even injure him. Or kill him. Where was the person who had the gun?

"I don't care," King said, shaking his head. "We have to get to N and-"

He stopped himself mid-sentence, become aware of the sirens blaring over the noise of the riot. Within seconds, box-shaped, black cars drove in from where King had come from, pulling together in a line to block off the street. Police in helmets and bullet-proof vests filed out, carrying riot shields on their arms.

The attention turned away from King. Some were already charging the police, but most just shouted at them. The fires throughout the park raged, heating the air, tendrils licking the sky, and creating a haze of smoke.

"Zoroark. Let's get to N!"

The Pokemon nodded, taking hold of King's shirt. He leaped, pulling King along.

King landed roughly, banging his knees on the metal. He ignored the pain, squatting next to N. He wasn't moving. Blood had seeped into the cloth of his shirt, staining it crimson. King laid a hand on his shoulder. His skin looked pale.

He almost didn't want to flip him, but N needed help. He was still alive, and King would have to take him somewhere where they could heal his injuries, wherever that damn person, whoever it was, had shot him. N had tried to do what was right, after so long of being in the wrong, and someone shot him for it. The world was a cruel place with awful, misinformed, and stupid people if they'd shot N for that.

Slowly, he pulled, turning N onto his back. King froze, his breath snagging in his throat, eyelids peeling back from his eyes.

There was a hole in the left portion of his chest. The sound of shouting and fires and stomping police officers, it all seemed to vanish, swallowed by silence. N's eyes were gray, without light; his face the color of the sky when it snows.

King swallowed hard, pushing down the lump in his throat, and wiped his face with a hand. He admitted to himself what he'd known since seeing N laying face down, not moving a single muscle.

He was dead. King had heard stories of what dead people looked like, but this was the first time he had ever seen one himself, had ever looked into their eyes. Nothing could have prepared him for it. It was only the night before that N had scarfed down three whole meals in one sitting, laughing while he did it. How could he have known? How could he have known that the next day would be his last?

Zoroark laid a claw on King's shoulder. We must leave. Look.

King turned. The police had formed a line, placing their shields together. A dozen amoonguss took formation behind them, shooting spores into the air. People dropped like flies, falling asleep when they came into contact with the transparent yellow clouds.

He let zoroark lead him away from all of it and only allowed himself to think when they were on the outskirts of the city, far away from it all. Far away from N.

He slumped against the wall, placing his arms on his knees. He shook his head. "N should have let me help him. Dammit! He shouldn't have run off like that. Maybe I could have done…. Something."

Zoroark sat beside him. The Pokemon looked incredibly sad, though King couldn't decide how he could tell. It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself.

"Do you know what this means, zoroark?" King said, turning.

Hm. No. What?

"N will become a martyr. I don't know who killed him, but he was the symbol for Team Plasma. His name will become a rallying call for all these people to rise against the government. I have a feeling that trainers like myself won't be too safe. Who the hell knows if I'll be able to finish the gym challenge, now?

I'll stay with you. I've already decided that I will, and no matter what happens now, my mind will not change.

King smiled, standing. "I hope N at least got to say part of his speech. Thank you, zoroark. The world, or at least Unova, is about to change a whole lot, I think. A whole damn lot. I… just hope we're ready for it. Jeez, with all these people proclaiming that using Pokemon is wrong, it makes a guy start to doubt himself."

Zoroark stood as well. Don't, King. You're doing the right thing.

"Yeah. I hope so. Come on, let's go… somewhere. Forget the Nimbasa gym. Anywhere but here."