"I am a stone, unaffected
Rain hell down onto me
Flesh and bone, unaffected
Your fool I will not be"
I Am a Stone _ Demon Hunter
It takes the League three days to replace the old Virbank gym leader.
Roxie comes out of nowhere, an underground battling star with an electric band. Younger, fresher, and prettier than the previous leader. She's a smash hit. People are so enamored they don't ask about ol' Harvey's sudden disappearance and the flimsy story of retirement. Kids on their gym circuit scramble to rethink their strategy for the Virbank gym. Roxie uses poison types, and her Whirlipede is a crusher.
Hugh sends me a letter in two days, asking if everything is all right and what happened. I lie to him.
Still, it's refreshing to hear of Hugh's endeavors. Even with the constant suck of work on my life, my head finally turns to the sky instead of the sidewalk when I walk to and from work, hospital and home. I hope for a travel pidove everyday. If there's one thing sweaty, sticky, humid hoenn had going for it, it was the idea of travel taillows spreading to other regions. It let me cling to Hugh for just a bit longer before he really faded out of my life.
I try to forget what happened. I usually can until I go to bed and am left alone with my thoughts. My body still aches from that day, and because I don't call in sick or take a day off, my body never fully recovers from the abuse I put it through.
And my days fall back into their regular routine. I head to Cheren's gym, watch him maul the pokemon of kids and adults alike, collect their pokemon, and cremate them. I log my hours, punch out, walk to the hospital. I make small talk with my mom. She doesn't answer. Some days are better than others. The day after the Virbank catastrophe, I can't say anything. I just hold her hand and try to force her body to stay warm.
The hospital bills pile up. Luckily, I DO get a bonus check to keep my ass silent about the Virbank gym. It's a week's worth of wages. I take a dollar to buy soap, canned pork beans, flour, lard, and eggs to replace the ones Golem broke. The rest funnels right into the hospital bills and doesn't even make a dent. I accepted a long time ago that I'd never pay off my mother's hospital bills, but still. I do all the calculations on what I owe, and with my minimum wage? I'll spend the next 200 years paying off the bills. All I can do is laugh and give some snide remarks to Golem who just whirs and hums with worry. He doesn't like my negativity, but I can't control it. Not anymore.
Against my better judgment, I look at tuition for Nimbasa University. I can't afford it. I look at jobs out there. There's a job opportunity at Elesa's gym. I want to put in an application. I want to transfer. I stare the temptation in the face, think of my mother and my lack of money, and I don't apply.
The second letter from Hugh comes about a week into his journey. It contains a sketch of his new pidove and sewaddle, Ace and Silky. Bastard. He's too multi-talented. The bird seems extra poofy, and I wonder if it has the big pecks ability to compensate for that fluff. The travel dove has a new letter attached that's addressed to Hugh, from his family. I find a scrap of paper and write him a brief congratulatory note and send the bird out. It heads east. He must be in Floccesy Town by now. I head west to work.
Golem drops more dead bodies at work. I drink more coffee than is healthy. Cheren continues to defeat his challengers without mercy, and the rather steady influx of dumb trainers with their patrats and purrloins at least keeps a check on their population size. Hugh takes his time around Floccesy Town, and while it annoys me that he takes so long, I'm also grateful. He's not heading into his battle with Cheren recklessly.
Nearly another full week passes before we get another travel dove. It contains a single sketch of a cute, bipedal dog with the name "Romulus" written beneath it, and Hugh's few words: "Caught us a secret weapon. I'm headed home. I'll see you all soon! Love, Hugh."
My heart lifts a little. A riolu. They're rare species classified as vulnerable. Not quite endangered. It's still legal to catch them, though I hear it's regulated. It's been . . . six months? since someone brought a riolu into Cheren's gym. They were a fool that took Cheren too lightly and let their riolu die, but it was the only casualty they had. A riolu could do almost all the heavy lifting for Hugh, especially if he managed to have it learn Force Palm.
Hugh is home late the next day. His mother and Molly cooked a welcome home dinner for him. I'm held up at the mortuary since a couple kids got in a scrap late in the day and I had to cremate their pokemon, but I still swing by. Golem likes Hugh's pokemon, and they all play out back. They had homemade lasagna. I wolf down three plates because I'm starving on soup beans, dry biscuits and eggs. I haven't had a homemade meal in years. His mother packs me a lunch for tomorrow, and I take one of their apples for breakfast. I slog through one more day while Hugh gets registered for his battle, and then . . . I'm standing where I always do, at the corner door of Cheren's gym. The stands are always full because people are horrible creatures who like to watch pokemon death matches. Hugh is standing with a near practiced ease in the challenger spot, but I can see the taunt line of his jaw from here. He's nervous. I don't blame him. My stomach is churning from the sidelines, and I'm praying so hard to whatever deities are out there that he can do this.
He catches my eye. He flashes me a confident smile and tips his hat to me. I give him a thumbs up and find a thin smile in return. Golem waves and gives an excited shriek of support. My heart pangs with worry.
Please, PLEASE don't let him lose a pokemon. PLEASE don't let him lose anyone.
Hugh taps the circle on the Silph Co. pokeball, and he tosses it away from himself, saying, "Go! Poseidon!" The ball pops open with the vocal command, releases his starter in a zip of light and ricochets back to him. That's one thing I'll never get tired of. Watching the damn near supernatural way those Silph Co. pokeballs work. I bet they cost a fortune.
Cheren doesn't even blink and says, "I'll lead with Redeye," his patrat, like he always does. My stomach cramps. I chew what's left of my short nails and wonder why in gods name Hugh is leading with his starter. Classically, the starter is used as the anchor of the team, like in a relay race. You finish strong. I expected Hugh to use the Riolu first and tear through as many as possible before switching to the pidove, then his starter. The sewaddle? Too fragile yet to survive two hits from Cheren, and worthless yet.
A hand pats my hip. I look down and see Golem petting my hip like I would his head, and he whirs brightly, eyes winking with reassurance. I scowl and grumble and turn my attention to the battle.
The referee lifts his flags, red for the leader and yellow for the challenger, and calls out, "This battle will be a three on three! The challenger may switch out any of his pokemon during the match! The leader may not!" I roll my eyes, parroting the words under my breath with the ref, "When all pokemon on either side is unable to battle, the match will end! The challenger may reserve the right to forfeit at any time! Ready? Set? Battle, begin!"
He drops his flags. "Work Up!" Cheren calls immediately, and I'm amazed and horrified when Hugh says, "Poseidon, Focus Energy!"
He's LETTING Cheren set up his Work Up combination? Is he mad? The patrat snarls across the field and glows bright, threatening red while Hugh's oshawott holds its fist in its hand. It's glowing slightly too, white, but centered inward instead of outward.
"Bite!"
"Water Gun!"
The rat hurtles forward to its prey, and Poseidon leaps backwards for space and opens it mouth, spraying a jet of water at its foe. The first one hits directly in the rat's face, and it tumbles backwards in the dirt before flipping to its feet. It darts in close, dodging the next wide attacks, slips in close and sinks its teeth into Poseidon's arm. The otter yowls at a pitch I despise and I flinch.
"Tackle!"
Poseidon lunges, slamming the attached patrat with all its might. The rat squeaks and lets go. "Get some room, Poseidon!" Hugh calls as Cheren snaps, "Bite again!"
They dart across the field, Poseidon zipping back and forth and trying to shake the disciplined rat. Redeye is too fast—they can't lose him. Hugh's brows cinch and he shouts, "Stop! Tackle!"
Poseidon lifts from all fours, planting its bottom feet and stopping short, and turns its momentum back at Redeye. I cringe when they collide again, the patrat's teeth sinking in closer, into Poseidon's shoulder and the oshawott releases a shriek. Poseidon rams the tiny rat into the ground again, the back of its head hitting the sleek gym floor. There's blood now. I see it, spattered against the shiny ground and my knuckles tighten around my shovel.
Here it is.
"Tackle!"
Poseidon heaves up again. I stare in morbid fascination when the patrat keeps its teeth latched in the oshawott's shoulder, and Poseidon rams the patrat's head into the ground again, like a particularly murderous football player. The rat goes slack, and Poseidon pulls Redeye's teeth from its shoulder.
Shit. SHIT. My stomach pitches uncomfortably. I hadn't thought about HUGH killing a pokemon. There's a new spatter of blood on the ground, from Poseidon's shoulder and the patrat. The referee calls the round in Hugh's favor, and I walk out with my shovel. I kneel down to check the patrat's pulse.
It's bleeding from the head, but I feel it, that tiny kick of life. I look up at Cheren. "Alive."
He nods and returns his pokemon to its ball and hands it off to a gym worker. They disappear into the back to hand it to the working nurse, and I take my place back at the wall. Hugh is kneeling, spraying Poseidon with a potion. The otter squirms and mewls in complaint, but the medicine does its job, chilling the skin and making the bite holes contract smaller, numbing the pain. The translucent film covers Poseidon's wounds and keeps it from bleeding.
Hugh catches my eye. He nods and finds another smile for me. Funny that. Him supporting me when I'm supposed to be supporting him. I try to return it. My face feels pinched.
"Chinook!" Cheren's pidove takes the field next. I swallow and take a deep breath, trying to settle my nerves for the next bout. That's how pokemon battles are: short and violent. Only when pokemon are older and more trained do the battles extend more. It's amazing that even tiny critters like this can be so damn vicious already. My back of my neck is tight and my throat feels swollen shut. I didn't realize that knowing the person and their pokemon changes the game. I'm invested in Hugh and his pokemon. I can't just numb myself to this battle like I do the others.
I feel sick when Hugh sends Poseidon out again. He's practically playing with the otter's life now. He should switch to his own pidove. Let Poseidon rest. But he doesn't, and the referee drops his flags for the next round.
"Work Up!"
"Water Gun!"
Poseidon straight up blasts the bird from the sky. My eyes pop at the critical hit that sends the bird careening backwards and tumbling to the ground. It hits the floor with a smack, and I jump at the noise of bone on unforgiving ground. Cheren's head snaps around to his bird, and it dawns on me why Hugh didn't switch out: Focus Energy. It came into play and bit Cheren in the ass. That's why Hugh wanted to keep his distance with the patrat and switched to tackling when he couldn't. An incredulous and relieved laugh bubbles up in my throat, and I barely swallow the noise. My boy came with a plan. And a good one. A hellish gamble that I hated, but weren't all battles a gamble with life and death?
Cheren takes the moment to use his potion. Now they've both used their one sanctioned healing potion. Chinook flies back out.
"Water Gun!" Hugh calls, and Cheren bites out, "Quick Attack!"
The bird zips in like a miniature fighter jet, a mere blur to the eyes. My eyes are used to the speed, trained to see it after so many years watching the gym, and I see where the bird's beak jabs into Poseidon's bad shoulder, rips a fine spray of blood out of the oshawott. Poseidon shrieks and whirls at the force of the hit, and it hunches over its wounds. My heart strings play an anxious song. Cheren preys on weak spots. Hugh needed to return him before I had to scrape that little otter's body off the floor.
"Quick Attack!"
"Now, Poseidon!"
The bird dive-bombs the bleeding otter again. My heart hits my throat when Poseidon unleashes a jet of water in the charging bird's face, another fatal hit that shoots the bird out of the sky and on the ground. Its body thumps on the ground again, and I know my face is white with stress. The bird is lucky. It hasn't broken any bones. It begins to get up, and I look at Cheren to see if he'll forfeit this round to Hugh or keep going. His face is flushed, and I see the tension straining in his neck.
"Charge it, Poseidon!"
My head whips to Hugh. His brown eyes are hard as flint and narrowed to complete focus on the battle. He doesn't see me, only the two pokemon on the battlefield, jaw taunt as a rope and a pulse in his brow. Poseidon closes the distance on four legs even with a limp, and the pidove is getting up. Cheren isn't backing down. Bile fills in my throat.
This is how pokemon die.
"Tackle!" Hugh shouts. Chinook is chirping, struggling to get wind under its wings but its wings are too damp. Poseidon snarls and charges.
"Chinook! Return!"
Hugh starts. "Poseidon, stop!"
The otter skids on the ground. Chinook zips back into its pokeball, and I release a gasp of relief. It has been. So long. Since Cheren ever forfeited a round. I thought his pride would get the better of him, but he announces, "I forfeit this round to the challenger."
The crowd is screaming in excitement and outrage. Their beloved gym leader is losing. And losing pretty badly. It's been a long time since Cheren has lost a battle, much less without knocking out an opponent's pokemon. I stare at Hugh again, who's crouched and scratching his oshawott's cheeks with both hands, a big grin on his face. I can't hear his cooing above the din of the crowd, but he's glowing with pride. Clearly, whatever his plan is hinged on Poseidon taking the brunt of these first two pokemon. The otter looks happy, but it's weaving. It isn't counted as defeated, but Hugh can't send it out again. One bite from Cheren's lillipup and it would bite it for sure.
Hugh looks up to me again. There are crinkles by his eyes he's smiling so much. He gives me a big thumbs up. I return it, but my smile is even more pinched than before. It feels like a grimace. Clearly he thinks he's got the battle in the bag, but I'm afraid. The first two pokemon are practically warm ups. It's Cheren's lillipup that sends so many to the morgue.
Cheren's jaw works, like he's considering saying something. He doesn't.
"Brutus!"
And there it is. The tiniest, angriest little dog in the world that's not afraid to go for the throat. Hugh returns Poseidon. "My next is Silky!" and he—
He.
Throws out his sewaddle.
He's mad. I'm sure of it. A sewaddle was cute, but it's a bug. It's fragile. It won't last in a battle like this. But Hugh is sitting back on his heels like he's already got the battle in the bag, a big infuriating grin on his face. Cheren doesn't like it. I see his fist clench.
The flags drop for the next round. "Work Up!" Cheren spits, and Brutus begins glowing that ugly red that I've associated with death.
"String Shot!"
Brutus lunges to avoid the spit of string, but it still lands on the dog's back and side, sticking like a weight on its back and restricting its movement. "Work Up!" Cheren calls again. I want to shake Hugh. He's LETTING Cheren set up those Work Ups and I know how quickly Cheren can tear through a team if you let him get too many. But Hugh's wasting his time worrying about speed. That bug will have a hard time ever out-speeding the dog, and it's not like the worm could even really do lasting damage.
"String Shot!"
Brutus is smothered in more webs. It catches around the dog's legs and feet, and the dog barks and spits like mad, angry that it's getting tangled up. "Bite!" Cheren shouts, and my heart drops from between my lungs.
"Bug Bite!"
The two pokemon charge and meet in the center. The dog snaps its jaws around the bug and there's a high-pitched keen of a dying pokemon. Golem whirs at the sound and covers his eyes. I'm cold; all the blood is draining from me, but the sewaddle bites back, and it slowly dawns on me what Hugh is doing—the oran berry on the dog's collar. It's a sustaining health item allowed, and most kids don't think about how to disarm him. Silky eats the berry while the dog shakes it like a toy, shredding its leaves, crunching into its body.
Hugh pulls out his apricorn ball again. "Silky! Return!" The bug disappears from the battlefield, and Hugh announces, "I yield this round to the gym leader," and the crowd hoots and hollers. They're confident Cheren has the upper hand again. He's set up two Work Ups, and the bug barely hurt his dog. He could easily go for a third Work Up when Hugh's next pokemon—
Oh.
A disbelieving smile hits my face. Oh my god, Hugh, you damned brilliant idiot.
There's energy in Hugh's movements now. He twists his next apricorn open, saying, "My last is Romulus!" and there shows up that blessed blue bipedal dog. A shadow flicks over Cheren's face. His dog is chewing on the silky strings sticking its feet to the floor, restricting its speed.
Hugh was going to hit first. And he was going to hit hard.
The referee drops his flags and calls for the battle to begin. Hugh grins. "Force Palm!"
"Tackle!"
The dog desperately tries to close the distance and I clap my hand over my mouth to resist a shout of glee. He managed to teach that little imp FORCE PALM! Romulus leaps the distance between them, paw lifted and shining, and it slaps down on the lillipup's face. A blast of light explodes and the lillipup yips and crashes to the ground. It whines pitifully, but Cheren grinds out from between his teeth, "Tackle!" and I realize Hugh has this in the bag completely. He's a fighting type—he's made Cheren's signature Bite not very effective for this battle. He's slowed down its terrible speed. He took away its health sustainment. Cheren's done for.
"Quick Attack!"
Hugh even pulls his last attack back from another Force Palm that spelled certain death for that gangly mutt. The riolu dashes across the field and knocks the pup flat on its back again before it can attempt to fight back. It whines and twitches on the ground. Cheren is mad red. There's another lull in the battle and the crowd has gone quiet in shock of how easily Hugh dispatched Cheren's star player.
Cheren pulls out his pokeball. "I forfeit this match to the challenger," he says, and he returns Brutus to its ball. All eyes set on the referee who drops the red flag and raises the yellow, proclaiming, "Match, end! Cheren's pokemon are unable to battle! The challenger, Hugh, is the winner!"
My heart explodes with relief and pride. "YES!" I shriek before I can stop myself. The crowd is echoing my shout and waving banners. Hugh dashes out onto the field, scooping Romulus up with loud laughter. Romulus is barking and Hugh puts the little dog up on his shoulder and gives a wave to the crowd. They scream harder. I'm pretty sure a few of the girls are swooning. I smile and shake my head. Fucking heart breaker, soak it up, why don't you?
Cheren approached him, and contrary to the complete anger I'd seen in his face earlier, Cheren squinted at Hugh, and his cheeks tightened like he held back a wry grin. He said something that made Hugh smile sheepishly and scratch his head. Huh. Embarrassment, Hugh? Cheren pulled a case from his pocket, opened it, and offered it to Hugh. Hugh beamed and picked it up.
Cheren turned to the stands and cast a hand to Hugh. The crowd obediently cheered louder for a new trainer on their way to properly take the League challenge. Someone darts from the stands. It's Molly. Hugh opens up his arms to the eleven year old and she tackles him as hard as she can. He picks her up and swings her around like she weighs nothing.
Golem punches my side. His core glows hot with excitement, exuding warmth, and he throws several playful boxing punches and cher-chunks madly. I roll my eyes at his enthusiasm and push him. "Yeah, yeah," I said and wave a lazy hand. "He did good, didn't he?"
I look back up at Hugh. He's looking at me. He grins. I know what he's up to, and I give him a warning glare. He ignores it and comes running to me, and my shoulders cave back. "Hugh," I warn him as he closes the distance, "Hugh, don't you dare—!"
Only true friends ignore each other like this. I oomph! into his chest as he likewise crunches my ribcage and twirls me around like a doll. He sets me down and waggles his brows. "Well, Josey? Told you I had it in the bag. Went smooth as eggs in coffee, and I even kept my promise! Not a single down for the count!"
"No need to get the big head," I say, but I can't help but grin and roll my eyes. I shoo him away. "Look, my shift isn't over and you've got a hurt pokemon. You get Posey there to a Center and head out with your girls. Celebrate or some shit, you deserve it."
He laughs and says, "Okay, Josey. But I'll be seeing you later, alright? Second you're off, you make tracks to our place, right? I gotta share a beer with you or the party isn't complete, hear?"
"I hear you," I say, and I shove him off because Molly wants his attention and no doubt wants to see the badge. Hugh points at me again, making sure I know that I'm obligated to show up at his house before heading off with Molly and his mother. I wave to them all as they go, and it's only when they exit the gym that I slump against the wall.
My eyes lift to the battlefield. A gym worker is cleaning the blood from the floor for the next battle on the hour. I should be more elated than this, but . . . All I can think is . . .
That was too close.
It's after work. I'm out on time for once, and I check the time. I have time to visit my mother before I show up at Hugh's place. At least for a quick visit. So even though I'm filthy with the dust of dead pokemon and sweat from the fire, I head out to the hospital again. I wave at Karen who sits at the desk, walk to room 3B and sit down with my mother. It's so very quiet in the room.
I clear my throat and try to find my words. "So. Hugh had his gym battle today. He did good. Real good. Didn't lose a single pokemon, thank god. I wasn't prepared to . . . burn a friend's pokemon. My only friend's pokemon." I let the words sit. I can't really explain the sour, lead feeling in my stomach beyond that. I stretch my sore body and groan, slouching into the hospital seat.
"He did it with an oshawott, a riolu, and you won't believe it, but a sewaddle. Crazy bastard. I didn't think he had it in him."
Mom doesn't say anything, and it hurts. After all this time, I'm still angry she can't respond. In the wake of Hugh's grand win and his clear springboard into success, it rubs like sandpaper on flogged skin. I pick at my hangnails and glower at the floor.
Her body is there, but she feels farther away than ever. She doesn't know anything that's been going on in my life. She's not support in my life anymore, she's a drag. I hate taking care of her. I hate paying to keep her alive when she won't wake up. I hate visiting this depressing hospital. I hate my life. I hate everything about it, and it's so easy to hang all of my problems on my mother at this point.
I want to pretend she means nothing to me, because it would make things easier, but it's not the truth. The truth burns in my skin. It wells inside me, sucking on my throat, heaving through my lungs and stinging my eyes. I bow my head in my hands, shuddering against the tears.
It's not just a temptation to pull the plug on her.
I WANT to pull the plug. And I don't want to look back.