Something-something: I really thought I'd post on a more weekly basis. School, you've bamboozled me yet again this week. I'm surprised at my lack of surprise. Hahaha
Here we are again, another installment. As usual, I don't own anything related to Pokemon, it really belongs to Game Freak, Nintendo, the Pokemon Company, and probably a few other people. Comments and Critiques are very much welcome, tell me via whatever medium I've made available—if it's not through one of those, I'll be duly freaked out and will proceed to SCREAM AT MY COMPUTER SCREEN.
…you guys would totally make me scream at my computer screen, wouldn't you?
Have at ye, and let's have some fun.
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Shooting upright faster than some Electric-types, I scanned our surroundings. Where I expected a threat, there only stood bushes, trees, and the occasional berry sapling. Dayne was still drifting towards sleep. If he sensed anything, he'd react and sound an alarm. I mean, he's a psychic, right? Psychic-types sense everything.
I would have relaxed if the burned smell disappeared. It didn't.
"Dayne, can you find anything burning?"
The young Ralts sat up and rubbed his eyes, groggy from the sleep he so yearned. His horn glowed with the translucent cowl it often had when he used his powers, a slight red tinge to the shroud of light. Each passing second led to an increasingly opaque glow, until the light was too intense for me to look in his direction. Squinting, I turned away, opening my eyes slightly. Dayne decided he had searched around himself enough and went back to bed, cutting off the glow emanating from his horn.
The millisecond before he turned out the lights, I saw a thin trail of smoke heading in our direction.
The burned smell was getting stronger, and whatever its source was, it was getting closer. I opened my backpack, rifling through until I could find the book on Routes and their native species. A quick flip to Route 101 found no signs of any Fire-types. This meant that whatever was approaching us, it was either a released fire Pokemon, or a Pokemon on fire.
I turned to my sleeping starter and, hoping his abilities were as good as I hoped, asked him about his psychic scan. Annoyed by my disruption, he simply repeated the word Nothing in my head, fading away as he did. The word disappeared from my head when we both heard a weak, desperate mewl from behind a nearby bush.
What remained of Dayne's drowsiness and ease was shattered by that small cry of defeat. What remained of my skepticism was left behind as I rushed to the bush; whatever was there, it wasn't a threat, and it was probably almost dead.
It had for legs. Just barely bigger than my Ralts, whatever color its fur had was lost to the embers still devouring its fur, some areas already eating away at skin. Each leg had three claws, which were the same azure black as its tail, face, and the curved horn on its forehead.
"Shit," Nothing was in my head, an emptiness I'd never felt before, consuming my insides until I couldn't feel anything. This creature had asked us for help, and we were too slow to supply because we were too cautious.
Then a fire ignited the nothingness in me. I could feel hope, a feeling I'd never thought a charred Pokemon could supply me with. If you wonder why a dead Pokemon would give me hope, I'll tell you: its sides lifted as it struggled to breath. It was still alive.
"Dayne!" My starter teleported to my side. "We need to take this to a Center. Can you carry it to Oldale?"
My starter nodded, his horn already glowing its signature crimson. A similar glow appeared around the Pokemon, but it didn't move at all. Instead, the glow seemed to flow towards the dying creature and … dissipated. The psychic powers Dayne had no effect on the Pokemon before us.
I opened my sleeping bag and wrapped the Pokemon in it. "Just pack the supplies and follow me."
I can lift it! Just let me try—
"We DON'T HAVE TIME!" I couldn't help yelling at him then. We had little time. The Pokemon had little time. I'd have to apologize to him later, but this thing was about to die. I didn't want to dig another grave.
Wait…another grave? I've never dug a grave before.
Lifting the small form in my arms, I sprinted for the town at the route's end. I may have kicked aside a few Zigzagoon, and I'd kick aside more if it helped get this Pokemon the care it needed to survive.
It stopped breathing at the doors of the Pokemon Center.
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The Intensive Care Unit was for doctors, nurses, and patients only. We were told to wait in the public waiting area until they were done treating the Pokemon we brought in, whatever it was. Dayne kept jumping into my head, and we kept arguing in thought.
I could have carried it.
No, you couldn't have. You saw what happened when you tried; nothing happened!
I probably underestimated its weight. I can show you when it's all better.
It might die!
I could have saved it!
You didn't!
"Excuse me?" A nurse asked tentatively. I hadn't noticed before, but Dayne was making nasty faces at me, and I was returning the favor. There may have been a few physical grunts on our side of the lobby.
Disengaging from what would have been the fight of Oldale's Center's history, I hoped the nurse had good news for us. My standards for hopes dropped drastically when an officer in the blue officer's uniform appeared at the nurse's side, a psychic, yellow feline with squinted eyes on his shoulder.
"Young man," his voice was stern and unforgiving, all types of serration targeted towards me, "unless you have a decent story to tell, you're going away for a long time."
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Dayne was kept in his ball and out of my reach. I think the proper term for that is "police custody". His pokeball was on the table in front of me, just out of reach and in the officer's hands.
Actually, I would have been able to reach Dayne's ball if I could get out of these damned handcuffs. The cuffs that kept my hands rooted to the table's surface with minimal range of motion. The cuffs that were too small for my wrists, which trying to move in forced another layer of skin off.
I don't remember much of the officer aside from his uniform. No, there was something else, something big, obvious, and in my face.
"You have a lot to answer for, criminal."
Right, his gigantic mustache of Herdier-worthy proportions. His whole mouth was covered by it, parts of his cheeks disappeared under it, and his voice barely escaped that jungle of hair whole. He was probably yelling at me to compensate for his naturally-muffled voice.
I needed to know what I'd done wrong before I could get out of here with Dayne.
"Excuse me, office—"
"WHAT rights do you think you have after what you've DONE!?"
"Officer, I—"
"Now JUST TELL ME, how do you reckon your family will see you after they know ya'—"
"OFFICER," This guy was getting on my nerves too easily. Maybe his mustache was actually a pokemon, using a move to taunt me into anger. Maybe it was just his voice, how imposing he was despite his natural muffler. Maybe I was just burning with curiosity as to what he looked like beneath his 'stache. "What did I do?"
For once, the man had nothing to say. He took off his cap and placed it on the table. I thought he was finally ready for civilized conversation, but he took a deep breath in. A really deep breath.
Then he exploded into very human application of Hyper Voice.
"YOU SUPERSTITIOUS OR SOMETHING!? YOU THINK THAT'CHA CAN GO HURT A POKEMON TO THE BRINK OF DEATH AND GET AWAY WITH IT, DO YA? YOU'RE LOSING YOUR TRAINER CARD AND YOUR POKEMON AND I'M GONNA PUT YOU AWAY FOR SO LONG YOU WON'T EVEN REMEMBER YOUR MAMA'S NAME!"
Needless to say, my ears were ringing louder than I thought possible. Any more of this would have definitely destroyed my eardrums. As the man finished exhaling, preparing for another deep breath in, I took my shot at vindicating myself.
"Sir, I apologize for how I've acted. I was rude, I get that. But you have me all wrong. I don't know what that Pokemon was, and I certainly didn't hurt it at all. My Pokemon and I found it walking towards us in that state earlier tonight, and we immediately rushed it to the Pokemon Center. We only—"
His inhale was finished. That was the longest inhale I'd ever witnessed, his lungs must be at least three times larger than normal. I crouched over in my seat, head in my cuffed hands, hoping my ears could survive the oncoming onslaught.
The officer exhaled, a deep breath out that I felt across the table, my hairs standing on end in misguided anticipation. He sat down, re-donned his hat, and smiled—or rather, his mustache curled up slightly.
I didn't see any of that, considering my head was still in my hands. In fact, I kept my head there, ears safely clamped behind the iron wall of my hands until I was nudged back into an upright position by the officer.
"Go on then," he made a rolling motion with his hands, "you two were only… what, exactly?"
If I was any other person, I would have relaxed and said whatever. What stopped me were his eyes, which didn't match his smile at all. There was a glint of suspicion in those eyes, and I needed to choose my words carefully to avoid another human Hyper Voice.
"…" I was piecing the words together.
"Go on then, I don't have all day."
He really wanted the information fast.
"We were getting ready to sleep," I started. My interrogator leaned in slightly, keen on catching every detail. "I heard something, and had Dayne check for anything. He couldn't find anything and went to sleep. Then I heard it again, closer, and smelled burning and heard a meowing noise. It came to us and collapsed behind a bush, and Dayne couldn't lift it with his psychic powers, so I had to carry it here. Then you arrested me." As much as I wanted to glare at him for that part, I had to restrain myself. "Officer, I don't know why I'm here, and I don't know what you are accusing me of. Please tell me and please let me leave here with my Pokemon."
I almost prayed to something at that moment; my whole life as a Trainer, my relationship with my starter, and so much more than I could realize then, all of it hinged on an officer with a mustache—a man who I'd never have to see again—losing that glint of suspicion. I'd told the truth… but withheld the small fight Dayne and I had. If he caught on to that, despite my honesty, I was screwed.
He took off his cap again, the blue hat with its bronze crest facing me. I could see my reflection, my face showing evidently restrained fear. I didn't dare to look for success in his eyes. If I failed, I probably would have severe hearing damage by the end of the day. For this moment, I had no say in what happened with my life.
"You know, you're lucky you have a world-renowned Prof lookin' out for you."
I glanced up, slightly surprised. Birch had helped me? How?
"Your story checks out. We got the Pokemon to tell us what little it could. And also, your first appointment with the doc' is tomorrow night. Get a room in the Center."
"Wait…" What doctor? Appointment? How would a police officer know a part of my contract? And how did they get that Pokemon, the one that was severely burned, to tell them anything?
"Kid, relax. We'll tell you everything."
It's not like I want to know why I got arrested, right?
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Yes, a minor cliffhanger. No, I regret nothing. Y'all made me scream at my monitor, and it got very sad because of that. Anyways, whatever is happening with our guy, I'll get to it… just let me pass my Summer quarter. As long as that keeps up, I can keep writing, and y'all can keep being my favorite people.
Have a good one
N. Locke