Raised to an Art Form

by Trauts

"The World of Pokemon?" Zeke mocked, sneering, "What an absolute joke. Humans raise pit fights to an art form, and name the world after the fighters-the slaves! Defend what people do to Pokemon, I dare you!"

2. Claws and Scythes

"Raised to an Art Form"
Chapter 2: Claws and Scythes

Well, I'd like to thank all who sent in a review to the first chapter of this story. To RB Whiffet, for the encouragement and corrections in their review, to The Rahkshi Writer, for their feedback and analysis, and the anonymous Soviet, who without a profile I cannot respond to: I'd like to say that Zeke is indeed overly biased, but it's a trait of his character, a flaw of his own.

Sorry, by the way, for the yawning chasm of a delay. I'm writing on a very casual basis now, with a lot of things suddenly being thrown in my life. I'm still writing; just have absolutely no update schedule. Trust me, though, reviews really do help, so thanks everyone.

Oh, and yes, much longer chapter. The first chapter was just a prologue, after all.

...

The final bell rung at a time that, to Rivet, felt hours late, though a glance at his PokeGear confirmed it was Friday 4pm. Quiet, muttered conversations around the room broke out into a mass of noise as most students in the class leapt from their seats, rushing around Rivet to the door of the classroom, Jordan following suit, getting up from his seat beside Rivet with a quick explanation of having to get to his uncle's place by 4:30.

"Remember! For those of you who still haven't completed the P-B-S Essay, its due on Monday!" the teacher frantically reminded anyone who would listen over the noise, somewhat in futile. Seeing the majority of the class already out into the now-crowded hallway, mixing up in the masses of people in a rush to get to their lockers, he let out an exasperated sigh before flicking a switch on the wall near him, shutting down the Interactive Whiteboard that various underlined pieces of information and largely irrelevant diagrams had been on.

The remaining students finished up whatever they had yet to do. Some still packing up their stationary, other's furiously scribbling to finish the given handout. Rivet, finishing up the former, walked out of the classroom, dropping his completed, proof-read essay on the teacher's desk, giving the title of it one last glance to make sure he'd remembered to write in his name.

Pokemon Behavioural Studies-Ilex Forest and Grass-Type Inhabitants
Rivet Stevens, Year 12, Form A

Reassured, he left, weaving through the crowd of students to his locker. As he gave out a few "hey's" of acknowledgement to those who said "hi" as they went by, Rivet looked around for any sign of Zeke Connor. In truth, he didn't know what he intended to say when he saw the guy, but nevertheless preferred the chance to get to talk to the guy. His thoughts on how to approach the reclusive teen came to a halt as he spotted him, but through the window of a classroom. It was clear, from the only other person in said classroom and the talking going on inside, that another teacher was lecturing Zeke, or at least trying to get the sixteen-year old to put some effort in. Rivet shook his head at the obvious disinterest visible on Zeke's face, giving up his idea on talking and instead just heading to his locker, now meters away.

'It's a wonder he passed Year 10. I imagine he's only doing Year 11 now because of his parents, probably. He must have at least failed Year 10 Pokemon Behavioural Studies, from what I've seen of him, and certainly Advanced Battle Theory.' Rivet guessed, hearing the 'click' from the locker as it unlocked itself, sensing his School-Issue PokeDex ID grow close. Packing his bag, he thinks a bit deeper as to how Zeke even got to Year 11.

'Well...he seems to have a refusal to listen to almost any teacher...but he seems to have largely taught himself Mathematics and Geographical Climates.' Rivet thought further. He was a year ahead of the sixteen-year old Zeke, but he had, in the past, been in some cross-year classes and was in the same "House" group-'Ariados'-so during school events he'd seen Zeke occasionally. His friends from various classes and year levels also left him in the web of information about almost anyone who's getting either higher or lower than average grades, as well.

Clearing his head on the pointless speculations as to how far Zeke has gotten and/or why, Rivet finished packing the few items he needed into his bag, closing his locker and walking off at a somewhat more relaxed pace than most students, many of which were still high on the "end-of-week" feeling. Making sure he heard the "click" of his locker re-locking itself, he made his way through the now-quieter corridors, passing the Janitor and his Slowpoke along the way. The grey-haired, elderly man picked up a half-eaten apple left on a windowsill with a pair of tongs, throwing it into one of the small bins attached to the trolley he dragged around, before picking up a crumpled paper airplane on the floor at his feet, handing to the Slowpoke lying outstretched on the trolley's flat surface.

With a grunt of "Sloooow...", the Pokemon held the paper lazily in its paw, using Recycle. Instantly, before Rivet's eyes, the crumpled, torn, blank paper fell from the Pokemon's paw, slipping through as a liquid, before spilling over the trolley in a peculiarly controlled manner, finally solidifying in the perfect shape of an A4-sized piece of non-creased blank paper, which the Janitor placed in a compartment in the side of the trolley, giving the Slowpoke an appreciating pat on the head, with no noticeable response besides a low, pleased grumble.

Rivet finally made his way out of the school grounds. He'd seen the Janitor's Slowpoke use Recycle before; it wasn't exactly a rare thing, but nevertheless interesting to watch, somehow. The Pokemon itself certainly wasn't a rare sight; it was one of the most commonly seen Pokemon, wild or owned, around Azalea-besides the Pidgey-thanks to the proximity of the aptly named Slowpoke Well.

Now onto the green lawn beside the street outside the school-nothing on it but a spatter of bicycles and the rare car for those with the need and the money-Rivet followed the suit of what many others were now doing, reaching into his pack for his only Pokeball-a primarily black device, with a gold-trimmed red line around it's "top" half, and a similar grey-trimmed yellow along its center, aiming it at a patch of grass nearby. Without any apparent speech or movement, the ball opened, an arc of red light appearing from it, hitting the ground before morphing the data into physical body, becoming bone, organ, mind, shape and colour into the obvious form of a Zangoose facing him, four limbs supporting itself for a second before rearing up onto its hind legs, suddenly reaching a height from a couple of feet to well over a meter, rubbing at its pink eyes tiredly with its forelimbs, careful of its own claws.

A bit taller than the average Zangoose, on its hind legs reaching about 135 centimetres if measurements from weeks ago are still accurate, and also a bit heavier than average, as is visible rather quickly from its very slightly hanging gut.

Finishing rubbing its eyes, the Zangoose opened them to the daylight around it, lifting its head upwards in an action similar to a yawn: "Zaaaaaaan-goose."

"Still tired, Ken? Guess you wanna finish up your rest then?" Rivet queried his Pokemon by name, smiling at the sight of him. Ken's ears perked up, head lowering to look at Rivet, its head nodding cheerily, if tiredly. As Rivet lifted the Luxury-Model Pokeball once again to return Ken to the data-simulated world of his own inside, Ken held up a hand tiredly in an action to mean "wait" before turning around to the small groups of primarily female, younger students looking upon the exotic Pokemon in wonder.

Grinning in a way almost describable as 'roguishly', Ken lifted both forelimbs, claws rapidly changing from a black to a deep purple colour before clashing both sets of claws together above his head three times, each blow leaving both claws glowing brighter, each time letting off small purple-coloured sparks as the poison-infused claws contacted, quickly dissipating in the air around the Zangoose, leaving his small crowd clapping or squealing at the small creature's display.

Ken, finished, turned back to Rivet with a grin mimicking Rivet's own. Rivet raised an eyebrow at the display beside his own grin, before rolling his eyes.

"You are such a show-off." Rivet chuckled, amused, Ken giving a small "Zan!" of agreement before a red beam connected the Pokemon to the Luxury ball, the Zangoose's body disappearing without another trace in a beam of red light. The ball safely stowed back inside his pack, Rivet grinned, slipping his pack onto his back and beginning the walk to his house, his previous aggravation over the argument with Zeke temporarily forgotten by his Pokemon's antics.

...

Closing the front door of his house, Rivet climbed the staircase in front of him, entering the first room on the corridor stretching to his right from the top of the stairs. Thick, spotless blue carpet covered the floor, similar blue paint covering the walls. Over the paint, several posters of Pokemon covered the walls. A Luxray, its front hunkered down, growling, and a Magmar, a stream of flame erupting from its raised mouth, shooting upwards, were two of the posters. The third was in the form of a motivational poster with an image Rivet knew was digitally altered, though well: A Tropius, turning its head to look at the fruit hanging from its neck, seeing a bundle of pink Pokeblocks instead of bananas, with the caption beneath the picture stating: "INDULGENCE: Sure, it may seem nice at the time, but it will always come back to haunt you later."

Even after having it up for weeks, Rivet still chuckled at the reference to Tropius' trait of having its favourite and most commonly eaten fruit grow from its own neck.

Two single beds filled Rivet's bedroom, as well as a small, clean desk between the two, serving to support two lamps as well as a state-of-the-art PC. A closet and a second desk, with two different gaming systems set up on it, linked to the wall-mounted, advanced television screen, completed the spotlessly clean room. A strange thing to see in a 17-year-old's room, and stranger yet to see in one who often had one friend or another over, as well as a large Pokemon.

Rivet carefully placed his pack on the bed he slept in, rummaging through it before pulling out the Luxury Ball, pointing it at the second bed. Hr had no problems using the bed for that purpose...it was Ken's bed, after all. The Pokemon inside not sending itself out, Rivet did it for him.

"Back to this world, Ken." Rivet stated simply, the ball splitting open as a familiar arc of energy left the Zangoose arriving on his own bed, lounging freely-assumedly in the same position as he was in the data-based world inside his Pokeball. However, as new smells were brought in through his breathing, different sensations on his skin were realized, Ken quickly awoke with a sound that could be compared to a quiet bark, sitting upright with a stretch.

"Had a nice snooze, I take it?" Rivet asked with a grin, Ken giving a simple "Goose" as a retort, pushing himself off the bed and landing on all fours, leaving the room and walking down the stairs carefully, never particularly happy with going down headfirst but even less comfortable using the stairs whilst on two legs. Rivet, rolling his eyes at his Pokemon's obvious purpose to get to something downstairs, followed behind, politely giving Ken time to reach the bottom of the staircase slowly rather than moving past him.

"So I'm guessing you're hungry then?" Rivet asked Ken, guessing the answer in advance. Ken nodded his head once with an affirmative "Zangoose" directed at Rivet. Rivet smiled, asking the follow-up question.
"So what will it be? As far as leftovers go, we have some Mince-Meat Pies with a salad, or just a simple beef-steak, unless you'd prefer-" Rivet didn't get any further before Ken interrupted him with an agreeable "Zan". Rivet's smile turned to another grin at his Pokemon's strange liking of what others may see as "human-food". Certainly, Ken had never liked the processed crap sold as Pokemon food such as "Omnivore Poke-Meal" nor the Carnivore or Herbivore equivalents. And, of course, he had no interest in those catering to particular types of Pokemon, such as the "Sea-Plant Mix", "Digestible Ore" or "Nutrient Fertilizer".

Walking to the kitchen, Ken right on his heels, Rivet opened the fridge, taking out an airtight plastic container and placing it on the nearby bench, his Pokemon gently head-butting the fridge door closed after him. Rivet nodded his thanks to Ken as he flicked off a safety catch, then slightly twisting a dial somewhat strangely located in the centre of the granite kitchen bench. A small warning beep was heard, before a small section of the bench appeared to shift, mechanically dropping down, before a more practical board-like surface covered the once-granite slab, rising up once more until the new covering fitted perfectly level with the rest of the bench; a cutting board, impeccably clean from in-built cleaning systems.

As Rivet unsealed the container, lifting the lid and the huge chunk of frozen steak inside to the chopping board quickly, regretting the lack of gloves as he rubbed his fingers together quickly to warm them up after they held the frozen meat, even for a relatively short amount of time. That done, he moved to get two plates out of the cupboard, talking to Ken as he did so.

"You can go ahead and cut off however much you like. Cut a much smaller piece for me, I had lunch not too long ago." By the time Rivet had finished what he was saying, brought out the plates and turned back to the steak; it was no different besides a small serving having been cut off, Ken standing on his hind legs, licking his sharp claws in an almost wicked, or at least pleased with himself, manner. Rivet had no qualms about the use of claws as knives: he may be unusually neat and organized with his possessions, but the way he sees it: 'Any amount of germs that's clearly not going to kill you is just going to strengthen your immune systems.'

However, his eyebrows rose at the two pieces of meat before him.

"I said cut two pieces off, one for each of us; not cut into two pieces. You don't actually think you can eat all of that?" Rivet joked, pointing to the large portion. His Zangoose nodded vigorously, giving Rivet a grin. Rivet rolled his eyes, muttering something about Ken's weight under his breath, jokingly, causing his Zangoose to give him a playful hiss in way of a retort.

Nevertheless, Rivet places both pieces of the beef-steak onto a single plate, opening the microwave nearby and placing the filled plate inside, closing the hatch and hitting the button labelled "Preset 4". Confirming the time appearing on a small digital screen, he stepped back as the steak warmed. It wasn't actually; of course, true Miltank meat, but a near-identical scientifically grown substitute, or "Tank grown". Controversy over the harvesting of the necessary "ingredients"-many chemicals and genes used in the process taken from bred Miltank and Tauros-nonetheless ensured that though it was a step forward from the so-thought-of as barbaric nature of slaughtering Pokemon for food, it still didn't create more "ex-vegans" as hoped like it did "ex-vegetarians".

As the meat heated up, Rivet turned to collect cutlery for himself, finding the draw already open and Ken gathering a knife and fork for him, placing them on the remaining plate left on the bench that was almost as high as his shoulders. Giving a "Thanks, Ken" to his Pokemon, Rivet moved the now-empty container to the sink, setting off the motion-activated tap and scrubbing it clean with a nearby cloth as he waited, setting the water to a much higher temperature. Looking back, Rivet saw his Zangoose leaning on his back, on the closed door of the fridge, looking at Rivet with something akin to a smirk, accentuated by the natural rise of the lips towards the nose as every Zangoose has.

"Zaaan...goose. Goose..Zan, Zan." Ken said, the seeming random intervals between the similar sounds having a questioning feel to them. Rivet never knew exactly what his only Pokemon was trying to say when he got 'talkative' like that, but could guess from the tone what Ken was trying to ask.
"We have been over this. If my parents are always so busy that by the time they get home they have no time to do anything more than to go straight to bed, and get ready for their next day in the office, then it doesn't make sense that they should do my cleaning on top. And it's not exactly as if we need to use the dish-washer for a single item." Rivet explained, putting the damp container and its lid on the drying rack next to the sink as the microwave gave a 'beep'.

Rivet opened the hatch, drawing out the plate and testing the warmth of the meat by placing the back of his index finger on the smaller piece of beef. Pleased with the heat, he used a fork to draw the smaller piece onto his own plate, before handing the plate with the larger serving to Ken, who took it eagerly, balancing on his hind legs with the plate in his grasp. At Rivet's suggestion, they made their way back upstairs, Rivet taking the plate from his Pokemon so Ken could climb the stairs on all fours, as he preferred doing, giving it back once they reached their room. Leaving Ken to turn on the television set, and to flick through the channels with the remote beside it, Rivet slowly ate his way through his meal, sitting on the bed opposite the screen with fork and knife, his Pokemon joining him shortly, eating with claws and hands made for the task of slicing and gathering meat.

As Ken flicked through the channels, scraps of dialogue and conversations from the various stations reached his ears, even as he looked down, eating.

"Didn't find the-"
"-to know the story behind the mysterious-"
"-ridiculous. Johto Gym Leader, Whitn-"
"Found guilty of Mistreatment of Pokemon and-"

Rivet tuned most of the documentaries, news reports and series out, until the last report reaching his ears striking a sudden, familiar chord in him, his mind heading back to earlier in the day.

-Hell, human culture has grown to watching Pokemon attack each other in arenas for our amusement!-

Zeke Connor. Nothing he'd said was anything new. There were always groups speaking out against the Pokemon League, just as there were plenty who didn't fight. However, Zeke was the most outspoken that Rivet knew of.

'Everyone has a right to think what they want, to believe what they want', Rivet reasoned with himself, 'but how dare he actually accuse me of not caring for Ken, for forcing him into anything! '

Rivet let out a sad sigh before he could stop himself, causing Ken to spin his head to face him in concern, flicking the television off with the remote and tapping Rivet's shoulder with a claw lightly, worriedly.

"Zangoose?" the questioning sound caused Rivet to rub his head, not meaning to worry the Zangoose.
"Sorry...it's nothing, I promise." Rivet claimed, forcing a smile for his caring friend, continuing when Ken's facial expression did not change, "Really. Just thinking about a talk I had with Zeke."

Ken's face showed signs of confusion, quickly giving way to recognition, nodding understandingly, but still appearing concerned. Rivet scratched the back of his head sheepishly, finding it awkward to say what had exactly happened.

"Yeah, the...loud one. Didn't seem to matter what I tried to do or said; he just pushed me away. This time he flat-out yelled. Claimed I used you, really... what annoys me most about his arguments is most didn't even seem to be relevant, just throwing twisted facts at me as accusations." Rivet reasoned, both with himself and Ken, not sure whether to hold his head in his hands or chuckle, "He needs to get his facts right, couldn't see the even slight possibility that many Pokemon see it as a sport, and nor would I ever tell you to fight, Ken, it's up to you what you want to do."

Finally, Rivet did chuckle, feeling somehow lighter, even as he looked down towards his half-eaten lunch. The chuckle seemed somehow pitiable, both to of Zeke and the lack of flexibility to his beliefs.

"Seemed to think that as you're my Pokemon, that means I must be controlling you." Finished Rivet, a grimace appearing on his face, before a sharp-yet light-touch to his shoulder caused him to bring his head back up to look at Ken's face, and the encouraging smile on it.

"Alright, alright. I know, I know. You're not even my Pokemon, really. You're my friend." The boy's grimace turned towards a genuine smile at his own words, but Ken nonetheless poked him again with a claw teasingly, now grinning playfully. Rivet let out a more humorous chuckle at what he knew his Pokemon was encouraging him to say. "Okay, fine. I'm your human." Relented the teen, now grinning in amusement himself as Ken barked out a stream of syllables resembling a "Zan-han-han-han-han-han!" which Rivet knew to be the Zangoose' way of laughing.

Rivet finished his chuckle, before snatching the remote, playfully, out of Ken's hands.

"Alright. If you can't decide then I'll choose the channel."

...

'4:15pm? Crap, I've missed the busses.' Zeke sighed as he thought to himself, gathering his bag and textbooks from his locker after a glimpse at his PokeGear. He couldn't ignore the discomfort of his stomach after the lack of most of his lunch, and having gone without breakfast beforehand.

Shouldering his pack and closing the locker door, Zeke walked down the largely-empty hallway, most students having gone long before he was let out of the extended lecture.

'It's always the same. "You're a good kid, but you need to pay more attention". "I know you dislike Pokemon battles but that's no reason to neglect your education". "Bla bla bla, blablabla". Ugh, self-centred idiots.' Zeke thought spitefully at the teachers. 'Always talking with smiles and compliments, yet never actually doing anything, for anyone, for any reason besides their next paycheck. Always happy to watch two Pokemon hack at each other for "science" or "knowledge" or "studies", but-of course- would abhor it if two students started beating each other up. '

Zeke sighed once more, leaving the school building through the swinging front door, stopping for a second to consider his options. It would be another half-hour or so before the next bus, the school-hired busses only going for 15 minutes after school ends. His father wouldn't be able to pick him up for another 45 minutes, and the walk to his house was well over an hour, none of which seemed great plans when his stomach growled at him.

'There's always the Pecha Berry trees a short walk into Ilex...' Zeke considered, the walk keeping him occupied to fill the time until the next bus, as well as solving his hunger problem if there are any Pecha berries there.

Making his decision, the teen flicked through sections of his PokeGear, searching through the logged phone numbers and reaching his mum. As it dialled and rung, Zeke left the school grounds, though he was forced to turn his head away when he noticed, some distance away, the after-school "Battling Club" calling orders to their Pokemon. Biting his lip and doing his best to ignore the shouts and sounds of violence, the sixteen-year old moved out of earshot, around outside the wire-frame fence signifying the school-grounds, before a voice came from the PokeGear on the wrist he held in front of him.

"Hello Zeke. How was your day, son?" his mother's voice reached his ears, sounding pleasantly surprised at the call.
"Hi mum. It was fine...I just missed the busses, though." Zeke replied simply, patiently answering all the questions he expected to come before anything else.
"Oh, is everything okay? Talk to me." queried his mother, the protective tone only a mother can achieve almost dripping from her words.
"Yeah, I was just held in for another lecture, really..."

"Again? How many times must I tell you? Learn what's necessary however you like, do what homework you believe is necessary, prove that you can do what they throw at you and you don't have to bother with the drone of recycled 'facts' coming out their mouths. Surely your teachers have learnt by now that your marks are not in danger from how you act in class, so what was the problem?" his mother seeming lightly amused as she joked.

Both of Zeke's parents knew that their son couldn't care less about what 'his teachers mindlessly blab'-as he himself put it-and rather encouraged him to learn what he needed in his own time, knowing that-short of Pokemon Behavioural Studies and Advanced Battle Theory-his marks were among the top of the class, though Zeke managed to keep his marks hidden from most of the students, preferring not to draw attention to himself. Pokemon Behavioural Studies and Advanced Battle Theory he had to attend for a variety of reasons, but an arrangement exists between Zeke's parents and the Principle, and they do not affect whether he can pass into the next year level or not, at least not extensively.

"Well, I had a substitute teacher." Zeke said simply, his mother giving a knowing 'ahh' in return.
"Ah, well that makes sense. Though, are you alright? You sound a bit distracted, Zeke..."
"Yeah, just making my way to Ilex Forest to pick up some Pecha Berries while I wait for the bus. And I got into a bit or an argument with another guy at school earlier, Rivet." Zeke answered truthfully, turning his head from his PokeGear to sigh without his mum hearing.

"If you're going into the forest, watch out for Pineco, okay? Avoid overhanging branches wherever possible, and stick to the path," Zeke rolled his eyes as the unnecessary warning, about to respond with a 'yes mum' before his mother continued, realizing something about what he'd said, "But, Rivet? As in Rivet Stevens? I think I know his parents a bit." At those words, Zeke stopped walking, frowning as he replied to his mother in genuine surprise.
"You do? I didn't think you knew anyone at my school, really," Zeke asked, "They the usual happy couple giving their children plenty of Pokemon to have kill each other?" Zeke continued, sneering in his contempt.

"Zeke! The world isn't divided into who's Pokemon fight and who's don't. It doesn't make a person good or bad just because they don't share our beliefs; we've been over this." Zeke's mother chided the teen, "They're quite successful, but their son largely has their house to himself I believe, and they're actually quite similar to us. They don't keep any Pokemon, in fact, beside one Pokemon, an orphan that their son raised from an egg given by an older relative in Hoenn."
"Hmph. A Zangoose, isn't it? Raised from an egg or not, I've seen Rivet have his Zangoose fight other Pokemon, that's hardly taking care of it." Growled Zeke, sore from the scolding he just received. His mum had similar views as him, but he always, privately, thought that she didn't take it far enough to mean much.
"Zeke, Zeke...Mr and Mrs Stevens wouldn't let their son force his Pokemon do anything. The Zangoose's name is Ken, and he chooses to spar with other Pokemon for sport. Not everything's black and white, son..." his mother continued, reasoning with her son. When Zeke said nothing back, she queried him, "Zeke?"

"I'm here, mum. Yeah, you're right...sorry." Zeke reluctantly apologized, starting to walk again, thinking over what he'd just heard from his mum and what he'd heard earlier in the day from Rivet, "I'm just about at Ilex Forest. I got to go, see you in a half-hour or so." Zeke finished, looking up at the cover of trees now nearing him to make sure no Pineco were hanging above the path. A startled Pineco can be potentially deadly to someone not wary, considering the force and heat they are capable of producing when Selfdestructing.
"Alright, be careful!" was the last words from the teen's PokeGear before he tapped the centre of the screen to disconnect the call.

Walking underneath the looming, dark-green trees on the gravel walking trail beneath him, Zeke's attention was split between thoughts on the argument earlier, and glances at the overhead branches. No danger was likely to present itself from the land in the forest, Ilex Forest known for its safety with little besides the occasional Weedle or Caterpie likely to appear near paths, the evolved forms of said Pokemon often keeping to themselves in groups, away from the walking trials. However, the sounds of Pokemon still reached him from the forest teeming with wildlife.

"Pine-pinepine-co, co", "Terrrrr-caterrrrpie", "Kuna, kuna, Kaaakuna"

The sounds of the various Pokemon, accompanied by the rustling and creaking of the trees and bushes throughout the forest were strangely soothing; Zeke had to admit to himself, temporarily pushing the day's events from his mind. As he knew from experience, it was only a very short distance to the Pecha Berry trees once inside the bounds of Ilex Forest, which in itself is conveniently situated only a few hundred meters from the school, and by the time he felt he had separated all of the sounds of the various Pokemon in the forest in his mind-even hearing the sound of a Hoothoot at one point despite it being so early in the afternoon-he passed two trees marked by a ring of white paint each into a surprisingly wide, yet empty clearing of short grass. A few Caterpie lazily crawled across the grass, snuffling at the ground, while two Weedle crawled almost vertically up one of the two solitary trees in the clearing, heading higher towards the large pink fruits that hung from the top branches.

'Ah, finally, good to see some food.' Thought the teen to himself, letting a genuinely pleased smile take over his face at the serenity of the glade, before circling around the crawling Caterpie to avoid startling them, heading towards the Pecha Tree that had no visible Pokemon crawling along it, taking off and carefully placing his backpack on the ground.

The bright, ripe Pecha Berries all hung, like on the other tree, at its tip, the rest assumedly eaten by various Pokemon. At least 6 hung just out of reach, each at least the size of an apple, though Zeke knew them to be far sweeter, if less filling due to their largely hollow centre. Zeke glanced at his PokeGear, the time clearly showing up as 4:23pm.

'I still have another 20 minutes until the bus, might as well relax here.' Zeke thought to himself, unzipping his bag to-rather carelessly-strew all of the fragile, bulky or sharp objects inside over around the grass so the bag itself would act as a somewhat-effective pillow. Among the items was the small plastic container for his food, now empty, his clearly unused PokeDex-still with plastic coating over various panels-a couple of thick novels by the titles of "Mankind and Pokemon" and "An Undesirable Truth", both by the same author, and his Pokeball, or what remains of one. The small, spherical device-currently shrunk, technologically, to the size of a golf ball for portability purposes-had writing over the red half of the device stating "The shape of Pokemon's chains!" with the illustration of a pair of manacles and a padlock scribbled on the white half of the device. No Pokemon was in it, of course, it was merely used as a protest symbol.

With his bag having little besides his stationary, spare jacket and textbooks left inside, he laid it against the thin trunk of the Pecha Tree, before lifting a foot to stand on the lowest branch, less than half a meter off the ground, reaching his arm up through the peculiarly purple-coloured leaves to carefully pull four of the large berries in reach off where they hung, gently carrying them in his arms.

Stepping off the tree, he placed three along the ground next to his bag, holding the fourth in his hand as he lay along the lush grass, letting his head rest on his pack. Eating the berry slowly, he let his eyes wander over the clearing, the Pokemon there, and the trees. The delicate sweetness of the fruit soothed him and cleared his mind, leaving him more relaxed than he'd been the whole day. Finishing the first berry surprisingly quickly, he proceeded to start eating the second, rolling a third over to the three Caterpie who had been looking his way with some curiosity, as well as possible appetite. They crawled over to where it stopped, together nibbling at the fruit that was-comically-almost the size of one of their heads.

Making pleased noises and squeals of "Caaaaterrrr", the Caterpie slowly devoured the Pecha berry from several sides, apparently pleased with the change from their normal diet of leaves. The Weedle, meanwhile, had reached their own Pecha Berries, crawling along the branch where one hung, and eating away at its tip before it snapped from the tree, almost flattening itself upon hitting the ground. Despite the squashing, the two Weedle gave an "Eedddddle!" of triumph, crawling back down the tree to feast on their dinner.

Zeke didn't bother to repress the amused smile at the antics of the Bug Pokemon, and-licking his fingers dry from the juice of the Pecha Berry he just ate-he moved on to eat the last Pecha Berry he picked himself. Finally, his stomach filled and time passed, confirmed by his PokeGear to be 4:34pm, Zeke got up, recollecting the various items strewn across the grass to re-pack his bag, shouldering the pack as he stood up, stretching his back before hearing a surprisingly loud crunching of wood and rustling of leaves behind the cover of the forest, the sounds of fast movement coming from the trees opposite the entrance into the clearing.

"What the hell...?" Zeke spoke aloud without meaning to, instinctively backing away from the source of the noise, crossing much of the clearing walking backwards as the sounds got louder. Finally, an almost bestial cry was heard as an entire tree fell over not far into the forest, a tremendous crash resulting that shook the earth and caused the Bug Pokemon to crawl away with surprising haste.

"Sccyyy...tthhheerrr!"

Zeke just managed to make out a flash of green body on green surroundings, and four branches from the trees bordering the clearing suddenly dropped to the ground, cut by what could only be described as a blur of motion, before a blur of green finally came to a halt inside the clearing, looking up into the sky and crying out in some kind of pained, twisted model of a howl.

"Scy-SCYTHERRRRRR!"

Zeke barely got a glimpse of the Pokemon, an image burned into his head of vicious claws, crazed eyes and streaks of red blood travelling down a green body, before his senses recovered, he span around, and ran as fast as his legs would carry him back down the path he came through before, hearing hacking and further breakage of trees, foliage and bushes as the Scyther pursued him, seemingly filled by some unknown rage. His heart thudding through his body and filling his ears with an endless 'thump, thump, thump, thump, thump', Zeke continued to run, adrenaline flooding his body at the thoughts of the cruel claws of a Scyther, and the enraged sounds erupting behind him.

"Scyther! Scy-scy-scy-ther!"

A frantic look behind him showed the terrifying sight of the Scyther dashing in a zigzag pattern, seemingly intent to hack each and every hanging branch it saw to oblivion, yet doing it all in seconds and pursuing the teen nonetheless, swinging its oversized blades left and right while letting out cry after cry from its mouth.

'Arceus! Crap, crap, crap!' was the only thing going through Zeke's mind, repeating the oaths as if a broken record. Fear gripped him from every corner, his mind shouting at him to scream, to hide, to run. He chose to listen to that last part. It wasn't a single Scyther behind him, his mind told him; it was an army of them, an army of blades, close enough to nick his back at will.

As he finally neared the outskirts of the forest, in desperation Zeke tore at the flimsy straps of his bag, fear fuelling him better than any other motivation could, tossing his bag behind him to save weight or to distract the maddened Pokemon, sprinting out of the forest and across the field, not stopping until he was next to the road going past his school.

The Scyther did not follow him past the trees.

...

Huh...well, since these are the author's notes, putting the crazy Scyther aside for the moment...

Strangely, I based my 'vision' of Azalea Town (of course, some time after the time the games were set in) after the Australian city of Bendigo, somewhat. In the solitary aspect that, in population and land area, it's certainly a city (in Azalea's case, a city now), but it's grown outward rather than upward. This means still several schools, shopping centres and such, but still very much a 'rural' area in many regards, especially on the outskirts. Not overly industrialized or anything, more like a very large, well, town.

Oh, and all the school-work, Year levels and subjects? Made some up, took some ideas from different systems, and largely added a sort of Ultra-Modern aspect to the school itself, but through existent technology. The Pokemon World may be advanced, but I'm not going to write it as some kind of science-fiction.

Oh, and you may have noticed I kept referring to the Zangoose as "Ken" or "He" rather than "the Zangoose" and "It". This is, largely to push forward the idea of the story, that from what the anime at least shows; Pokemon (at least many) are incredibly intelligent, and largely the basis for Zeke's own hatred of what Pokemon are used for. And for the record, yes, Zangoose are normally a quadruped, not commonly moving on two legs as seen in their sprites in the games unless they're angry.

Err...anything else I've missed? I guess I should mention the spelling of "mum", as it is-at least-in Australia. I believe in North America it's "mom", as in the games themselves, but if I spelt it that way I would probably accidentally revert to the spelling I'm used to so many times that it'd be a mess of one word being used with several spellings.

Largest challenge of the chapter was working out how Mrs Connor would speak to her son. -_-' Though, on a more relevant note, don't be afraid to say in a review that I've been overly description-heavy, as it's my greatest worry, reading over the chapter.