Welcome to the fifth installation of Natural Disturbances!

This is where the real stuff kind of begins. Well, kind of. I was PLANNING to include lots of action in this chapter. But I guess I just sort of blabber on, and what do you know, ten pages in Word with just 'waking up' bits. . One thing's for certain, though, there will definitely be lots of action in the next chapter. The REAL actual plot is going to begin in the seventh chapter, though… sorry… I'm really slow…

There should be enough 'fluffy'-ish parts. First bit is somewhat Originshippy (Steven x Wallace). I'm not very good at writing yaoi though. –scowls- And, well, you probably should just read it.

Enough with lame introductions, here we go!

Morning Business and True Beginnings

Sootopolis City Gym, Sootopolis City, Hoenn

Steven Stone nimbly leapt on the last patch of ice, which soon cracked under his weight. Instead of falling through the fragile floor, however, the slide leading to the final platform melted to reveal a cement staircase. Readjusting his wine-red scarf which he kept tucked under his tuxedo, the ex-Champion proceeded up the staircase, self-conscious of himself and his black-and-purple tuxedo, which he did not have a chance to iron yet.

The familiar voice of his old friend began echoing off the walls, and Steven instantly recognized the speech Juan gave to newcomers, although the somewhat elderly Water Gym Leader was not the one who Steven seeked. However, out of respect and admiration, the ex-Champion stopped to listen.

"Greetings, challenger. Welcome to zee last challenge you must defeat before truly seeking glory… welcome to zee Sootopolis Gym. Here, your skills as a Trainer eez put to zee ultimate test—both of talent and of artiszzry. For zere is beauzy in skill and skill in beauzy… Let us see, then, who can dance the most gracefully with zare Pokemon, zooday, on zees frigid stage!"

The lights, somewhat dim before, erupted into full-glare many meters above the ex-Champion's head. Steven had to squint to prevent from being temporarily blinded, and even though he had come here many times before, the gray-haired man could not help but feel in awe of the beauty of the stage, completely built of ice, and the impeccable lighting that cast a romantic glow on the various boulders scattered imaginatively around the battle field.

At the far end of the battle field, Steven could see Juan standing in his formal battle-pose, holding a Pokeball on the tip of his long, pale fingers. However, the ex-Champion was not here for a battle, and though he felt somewhat rude starting their conversation without a greeting, Steven asked in what he hoped was not a churlish way, "Where's Wallace?" while striding quickly across the icy stage, wary of sliding across the slick surface.

As he drew closer, Steven saw Juan's façade of frosty intimidation melt away, like the ice had on the staircase, to reveal a puzzled frown. "Steven—?" The white-and-black haired Water Gym Leader asked, cut off by a curt slash of Steven's hand.

"No time for explanations," Steven said, then, realizing that perhaps he had been too strict with Juan, hastily added, "Sorry. I really need to find Wallace. I was told he was here by the message on his PokeNav's answering machine."

Juan's frown quickly turned into an understanding grimace. "Yes, he's over darre," He said, while indicating with his hand behind himself.

"Thanks!" Steven answered graciously. Quickening his pace, the gray-haired man nearly tripped over his own polished shoes and as his feet hit solid ground, he looked around wildly for Wallace.

He didn't have to look so far; the cyan-haired Champion emerged from the shadows after a few short seconds Steven had left the ice platform. It was hard to control the expression of immense relief that flooded his face, and soon the gray-haired man gave up the prospect entirely. "Wallace! I really need to talk to you."

Wallace tilted his head to one side; the two exquisite strands of light-cyan hair that protruded from under his white artist's hat bobbed to one side. "Do go on, Steven," He chided in his usual soothing musical voice that seemed to revive Steven's troubled soul to a certain extent—it always did, but now was not the time to linger.

"My student, Mimi," Steven paused, raising an eyebrow at Wallace, who nodded to indicate recognition. "has revealed a troubling prophecy in the ruins in Celestial Town. I trust you know where that is."

"Yes," Wallace answered, concern in his voice. "What are the exact contents of this… prophecy?"

"I'll tell you." Steven said, dropping his voice. "But we have to spare Juan; I'm afraid he cannot be involved in this crisis."

The corner of Wallace's thin mouth twitched, and his entire thin, angular face began to frown, but he complied and the two middle-aged men hurried to the corner of the Gym, conversing in quiet whispers.

Ketchum Resident, Pallet Town, Kanto

Andrew Rosalind woke up with a muffled sigh. He began regretting coming to the party in the first place, mainly because of all the girls. Not that he didn't like girls, of course. It was just that they were… well… acting fangirlishly.

In general, Drew liked the attention he received from fans, but he had hoped quietly for a simple reunion with May and her friends and then leaving without any hassles. He supposed that he was wrong. Of course, seeing May 24/7 was reward enough… though he couldn't say exactly why. He simply liked bathing in her presence.

But of course he would never and probably never will, tell her this.

May… since the first day they had met on that beach in Slateport, Drew had always kept an eye out for her. Her presence in the Coordinating community was one of the things that fueled him in the desire to become the Number One Coordinator. Right now he hovered at about five or so, but this was besides the point.

Drew had never been quite the one to come to terms with his feelings. He didn't have much time for such nonsense anyways, what with practicing for the Contests and all that. Sighing, he pulled himself off of the makeshift bed that Delia Ketchum had so kindly prepared to him the previous day. Ash Ketchum was snoozing peacefully in the opposite side of the room. Drew stifled raised an eyebrows at how deep Ash was in slumber land, and checked the analog clock hanging on the wall.

Seven o'clock. Perfect. As always.

Drew grabbed his clothes he had prepared the previous night from his bedside table and changed hurriedly. Once he was done, he folded his pajamas and tucked it into his small bag before pushing open the door and stepping into the hallway.

The Ketchum residence was not spectacularly large—nothing compared to Drew's own home in La Rousse City, anyways. Of course, Drew would never explicitly insult anyone, besides from May, so he kept these thoughts to himself upon entering Ash's house.

His Roselia's Pokeball began shaking on his jeans-belt. Frowning slightly, Drew unclipped the Pokeball and flung it into the air, making sure not to fling it so high that it would crash into the ceiling. His Roselia emerged in flash of green and purple sparks.

"No need for such theatrics, Roselia, we're not in a Contest Hall." Drew said dryly, clipping to Pokeball back onto his belt and looking patronizingly at his Roselia. In return, the grass-typed Pokemon huffed and withdrew its two roses back inside her spindly green hands and nodded obediently.

Drew didn't know what it was about his Roselia that made her want to come out of her Pokeball. Usually the presence of people would motivate Drew to do that himself, but as there was nobody around, Drew didn't see any point in having his signature Pokemon out. But Roselia seemed to simply want to be there for Drew, as if comforting him. Why, though, remained a mystery to Drew, but he appreciated his Pokemon's sentiment nonetheless, although he wished he had some alone time.

That Misty girl wasn't making things easier. She would nod at every word he uttered, much to his displeasure. (Of course, he never voiced this displeasure.) May didn't seem to like Misty very much for this, though, and Drew found it entertaining to watch May frown every time Misty nodded when Drew said something, since this gave Drew to opportunity to attack her in conversation when she was obviously at a vulnerable point.

Most of these… ah… exchanges would have gone according to Drew's plan had that stupid Brendan person not interfere. Drew would argue with May over some little matter, then point out the stupidity of their entire conversation, implying that she herself was a little dumb, and then right before May would explode, he would toss her a rose, claiming it to be for one of her Pokemon.

The look of confusion and bewilderment on May's face every time this happened was satisfaction enough. At first, Drew hadn't intended for the roses to mean anything—rather, a device to keep May's nose out of his business. But now… he wasn't so sure. Drew did know that he was running out of excuses, anyways.

Continuing down the hallway, Drew walked down a flight of stairs, only to notice with contempt that Brendan was already seated at the dining table. Drew raised an eyebrow at Brendan, whose silvery-white hair was plastered to his neck—obviously he had just exited from a shower, although he was fully garbed. Strange, though, for Drew hadn't heard any water noises. Shaking this thought away, Drew noticed Brendan eating cereal, presumably from the Ketchum's, and seated himself, taking the cereal away from Brendan and pouring it into a bowl of his own.

"That's mine." Brendan said indifferently, snatching the box away from Drew with a haggard scowl on his angular face. The green-haired Coordinator was unused to being affronted like this and merely frowned at Brendan before grabbing an empty glass from the glasses-stand and pouring himself some milk.

Evidently the milk didn't belong to Brendan was well. While the white-haired boy watched Drew with intense dislike, he did not say anything and merely continued to eat his own cereal, spooning each bite quickly into his pale lips at a rather fast speed. The two drank and ate in silence, until Brendan finished.

With one last look of disgust and revulsion at Drew, the white-haired Trainer exited the house. Drew felt a gale of fresh, cool wind hit his face before Brendan closed the door and Drew was left with the humidity of in the indoors.

Good riddance, Drew thought viciously, wearing a satisfied smile. Finishing his bowl of milk, Drew put the now-empty glass in the kitchen sink and looked at his Roselia, who began purring softly.

"What is it now?" Drew asked in annoyance. It was unlike his Roselia to be naggy like this. Usually she complied with his wishes—both spoken and implied—without a second thought, but she seemed to be a little on the rebellious side today. Why, though, Drew did not know.

"Zelll." Roselia replied. A lush red rose bloomed from one of her arms, and a brilliant blue one exploded out of the other. Apparently she was indicating something, but Drew wasn't so sure.

"What's wrong?" Drew asked, irritation melting into concern.

Roselia looked at Drew for a split second before shaking her head and sighing exuberantly. Unused to his Pokemon be so quiet, Drew opened his mouth, about to ask something else, but stopped short. It was pointless. Roselia couldn't talk anyways. Not in English, at least, but at least she tried. "Zell, zelllia," She insisted, indicating with her red rose the direction of the staircase.

"You want me to go upstairs? What is it?" Drew asked, now thoroughly confused. Roselia shook her head pitifully.

"Zelll." She said, frustration in her voice at not being able to communicate her message— whatever that was — to Drew. As a last attempt, she produced a perfect, thorn-less rose by pressing her two roses together and concentrating tightly.

"You mean… May?" Drew asked, finally understanding. Of course it was nearly impossible for him to find a rose bush every time he wanted to give a rose to May, so he always asked Roselia to make one. Perhaps this was what Roselia was trying to say? Indeed, Drew's suspicions were confirmed when the Roselia nodded. "Well, what about May? Is something wrong with her? Does she really have cooties?"

Roselia sighed again and shook her head in disappointment after Drew's last question. "I was just kidding." Drew murmured. After hearing her master's assurance, however, the grass-typed Pokemon seemed to grow a little happier and she began nodding again.

"This could take a while." Drew said to himself as Roselia began making complicated movements in the air using her two roses. Deciding to abandon the surely-futile attempt at communication, the green-haired Coordinator returned his Pokemon in a flash of red light, to her displeasure. Grimacing slightly, Drew pushed open the door and stepped outside, the expected coldness chilling him nonetheless.

Lucas Diamond Hikari pulled himself out of his light blue sleeping bag, a nasty and most unpleasant ache in his left shoulder, undoubtedly received from sleeping in a cramped position. The blurry form of his friend Tyson's body lay to his right, and on the large bed to his left he could hear Dawn, his twin sister, murmuring something about Poffins in her sleep, her thin left arm dangling wearily from the side of the large, king-sized bed that she had refused to share with anyone yesterday, blushing when Tyson offered to sleep on the opposite end (it was pretty big, anyways, Lucas reflected.)

Of course, Dawn had to get the best sleeping place; she was the youngest and she needed her 'beauty sleep', though the sharp pain in Lucas's shoulder begged to differ. Psst, younger by two minutes and thirty-three seconds, and she never lets me forget it, Lucas thought to himself with much contempt.

Deciding to forgive his sister this time, the azure-haired boy straightened up and yawned magnificently, startling and waking up Tyson, whose smooth face—unmarked by any skin disfigurations of any sort, and frequently complimented upon by Dawn, whose forehead was pimpled and always concealed by her white cloth-hat—was looking somewhat disoriented and whose blond hair had been ruffled in his sleep. Tyson's teal eyes, usually filled to the brim with energy, had been dulled by fatigue.

Eying his blond friend acknowledgingly, Lucas walked over to the bedside table, feeling the soft fabric of his and Tyson's sleeping bags under his feet. He grabbed the pile of clean clothes he had folded neatly the day before, and marched promptly through the doorway, headed straight for the bathroom that was adjacent to the guest room his sister, his friend, and he was staying in, only to discover to his displeasure that someone was occupying it.

Feeling somewhat apprehensive and self-conscious about stripping in the hallway, although nobody was around, Lucas decided to wait impatiently for whoever was in there to get out. He crossed his arms over his satin scarlet pajamas and counted sheep in his head. At last, when the sound of rushing water from the faucet ended, the door eased open and a boy with well-brushed ginger hair stepped out. Lucas recognized him immediately as Kenny—it was hard to mistake his scarily formal attire for anything else. The ginger-haired boy had stowed his usual outfit of green T-shirt and khaki pants and had put on his terra-cotta tuxedo garnished in areas such as the shoulders with woven gold thread.

Lucas frowned. It was unusual for Kenny to dress up like that for no reason, but as the azure-haired boy had no desire to start their conversation with blunt accusations, he said in what he hoped was a passably casual voice, "Hey, Kenny."

The ginger-haired boy's amber eyes flashed with recognition, and hurriedly he replied, "Hello."

It had been over four years since they had last met; Lucas knew that there would be time for catching up but right then it was not—besides, Lucas was almost positive that his breath stank horribly. True, they had done some catching up yesterday, after the dinner, which was good but not as good as Lucas would have liked (then again Lucas was not the one to criticize—he was a hopeless cook), but all they could do was exchange Pokemon Team lineups and Pokedex statuses (Lucas had discovered to his embarrassment that Tyson had captured three more kinds of Pokemon than Lucas had—and he called himself Professor Rowan's assistant?), before a stern Mr. Mine ushered them upstairs to bed at nine, despite Lucas's protests.

After all, Lucas had certain gone to bed later than that before—the most memorable time being when he had stood an all-night vigil to wait for the rare and elusive Rotom to manifest itself in a person's house. The azure-haired boy had earned another entry in his pitiful Pokedex as a reward for his determination, and a powerful new addition to his Team. In fact, capturing Rotom was what had convinced Professor Rowan to upgrade his Pokedex to National Level. This had all been a few day's ago. Of course, Lucas had conveniently neglected to mention the fact that Rotom refused to obey him, but still…

As Lucas continued his silent digressions, Kenny's round, boyish face seemed to twitch with annoyance, and evidently unable to contain his impatience, he asked in an unnecessarily harsh voice, "Well, do you want to use the bathroom or not?" while indicating the pile of clothes Lucas had forgotten he was holding.

"Oh, yeah! Sorry, forgot." Lucas apologized hastily, snapping out of his reverie and cursing his inattentiveness. It was this lack of attention that had caused him to lose so many potential Pokedex entries—this lack of attention that had caused him to let Pokemon slip through his very fingers. Then, realizing that he was getting off-topic, again, Lucas brushed past Tyson and through the bathroom door, shutting it firmly behind himself.

Turning on the faucet, Lucas cupped and splashed refreshingly and startlingly cold water onto his face, careful not to wet his dark blue hair, however short it was already. He identified his purple toothbrush and Sharpedotooth-brand toothpaste—snorting at the others' popular choice of Snoverwhite brand. After brushing his teeth meticulously to rid himself of any bad breath, Lucas changed, making sure to wrap his blue scarf correctly around his neck (he could name many times when he badly-wrapping his scarf had led to unfortunate incidents) and adjusting his artist's hat so that it did not feel itchy.

Then, pushing open the door, Lucas found his sister, her hair all frizzy, standing in her pale-pink night gown outside. Raising an eyebrow quizzically at his sister's unexpected promptness in waking up, the azure-haired Trainer noted that his sister was holding her day-clothes in her right hand, which hung by her side. Side-stepping her sister, who shot him a venomous look, as if blaming him for waking her up, Lucas dashed back inside the guest room.

Picking up his Pokeball-belt and blue backpack which he had left by the end of his sleeping bag the previous night, the Trainer strapped the former around his waist and slung the latter over his two shoulders. He noticed vaguely that Tyson had vacated his sleeping bag, and, shrugging, left the room and headed down the stairs.

Paul Samuels glanced with distaste at the green-haired boy who had just exited the front door. He indistinctly recalled glancing his photo (or someone similar—but just how many people had green hair?) emblazoned on the cover of a magazine or something like that—Paul never emerged himself in petty things like gossip, in any case.

Averting his gaze from the green-haired boy, he looked at his Infernape, who crouched, breathing in heavy gasps, on the ground, smoke rising ominously from the flames on his head. Paul had just ordered him to use a 'Flamethrower' attack at the sky—evidently the fire-typed attack had its after-effects. Instantly, Paul's brain began registering the fact that his Infernape had displayed imperfect endurance, and the longevity of the entire flame-attack was, although very long, not quite long enough.

He thought he saw his Infernape's orange eyes grow dull as his own purple ones bore relentlessly into them, daring the fire-typed Pokemon to display any form of confidence. Infernape did not, and, seeming to receive the unspoken message, quickly cart wheeled into mid-air and performed an almost perfect 'Fire Spin' at the air around him, a defensive tactic Paul had taught him.

"Better," Paul muttered, as the Infernape landed back onto the ground.

Brendan Ruby Birch glanced over his shoulder, to notice an azure-haired boy and a blond boy exit the Ketchum Residence. Drew, Brendan noticed with much disdain, had sent out his Flygon and had flown to a patch of short grass a good ten meters away from Brendan, now performing various Dragon-Breath and Sand Storm combination appeals. To Brendan's dissatisfaction, the Flygon's appeals were going rather well; this jealously, however, merely fueled his own determination and caused him to work his Dragonite with renewed vigor.

Beads of sweat, almost unnoticeable, rolled down the orange dragon's large sides. Brendan did not notice, however—his mind was full of determination to beat Drew in grandeur and presentation. He wasn't the Wallace's pupil for absolutely nothing, after all! "Dragonite, another 'Hydro Pump' and 'Dragon Dance'!" The white-haired Trainer ordered fiercely, thrusting his right arm into the air.

The Dragon Pokemon could only consent wearily. Beating her leathery wings, the orange Pokemon slowly rose into the air—then, taking a deep breath as if preparing herself for something nasty, the Dragonite unhinged her jaws. White water burst out of her mouth, seeming to be suspended in mid-air, perhaps by the wind created from the Dragon's heavy wing-beats, but it soon began to fall towards the ground.

"Niiite!" The Dragon Pokemon cried, diving towards the earth and then, with one powerful beat of her wings, back into the air again. As a result, the "Hydro Pump" attack followed the Dragonite in an ovular motion instead of plummeting towards the ground, the effect of the air generated from the artificially-generated wind created by Dragonite's wings.

Brendan watched with approval as his Dragonite continued whirling around in the air, flaunting her many years' of training in aerodynamics. When there was a thin sphere of water surrounding the Dragon Pokemon, Brendan hurriedly ordered, "Now, 'Dragon Dance'!"

Although her Trainer could not see, Dragonite gave a small nod and immediately shut her eyes, although still beating her wings furiously. As a result, the hovering sphere began moving slightly away from the Pokemon, but before it could collapse as water onto the ground, she began twirling at a quickening speed in mesmerizing circles before, finally, she thrust out her wings so quickly that the frail bubble of water burst open in mid-air.

Water droplets sprayed in every direction; Brendan looked quickly at Drew's Flygon, who hissed in annoyance as some water entered the contained Sand Storm he was whipping up. The white-haired Trainer was reasonably pleased with his Dragonite's performance, and Drew's rivalry forgotten, he waved his hand to signal for his Pokemon to fly back, which she did.

"Good job, Dradra!" Brendan complimented happily, addressing his Dragonite by her nickname. Dradra did not seem to be bothered by her Trainer's eccentric taste in nicknames, but grinned sheepishly at his praise, and watched with wide, golden eyes rimmed with dark red her Trainer dig around in his emerald backpack for something.

After a few more seconds of searching, Brendan pulled out a well-polished Pokeblock case with a content "Aah!" and, flipping it open, promptly selected a smooth-textured red Pokeblock. He tossed the Pokeblock into the air, and Dradra snapped it up, cringing with delight at the intense spicy flavor—what she liked best.

Stealing an oblique glance at Drew, Brendan noticed to his disappointment that Flygon's Sandstorm appeal was going almost impeccably. Feeling slightly disheartened, he turned back towards Dragonite. "Well, let's try that again?"

Ashton Red Ketchum, finishing his breakfast, or more correctly, lunch, wiped his milk-stained mouth with a napkin, and then promptly bolted out the door, with eagerness fuelled by… well… he didn't really know. Something about the simple idea of seeing Gary was enough to make him energetic, though, and pulled him out of bed at a whopping nine o'clock.

His Pikachu bounded after him, muttering a confused 'Pikaa?' at his Trainer's unusual excitement. If Ash could have found a mirror, he would have noticed his eyes glaze over as Gary's tall and lean figure sauntered through the Oaks' house. Barely able to contain his happiness, Ash blurted out, "Gary!" and began sprinting towards the disoriented-looking auburn-haired Trainer.

As Ash darted closer, he could have sworn that Gary's brown eyes twinkled with something like… pleasure? Oh, Arceus, please let it be pleasure! Please! But then the moment passed, and Gary was snickering his infamous snicker at Ash, and a cold sensation began forming at the pit of Ash's stomach, like it always did.

"Hey, Ashy-boy," Gary said, in his infamous narcissistic voice, just loud enough to be overheard by anyone within a fifty-meter radius. Ash's run suddenly slowed to a jog, and soon he began wondering why he had burned with the desire to run towards Gary in the first place.

Before Ash could say anything, or even utter a forcibly casual, "Hi," Gary had indicated with a thrust of his thumb the direction to his left. Ash looked, and noticed his mother, Professor Oak, and Tracey set up a large, dusty-looking blackboard that they probably dug up from Professor Oak's basement. Multiple baskets filled with orange fruits lay on the ground around them. Then, looking at the ground underneath himself, Ash noticed with a jolt that Tracey or someone had drawn eight white-lined battlefields with what appeared to be a fast-drying paint. Very much bemused, Ash turned to Gary, waiting for an explanation.

"What are they doing?" Ash asked, scratching the side of his face.

"What they're doing, Ashy-boy," Gary said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "Is they're setting up the tournament pairings and Contest pairings. Surely your mom told you this?"

"What? Nobody told me about this!" Ash cried, springing up angrily, attracting the attention of several others. Fortunately, Harley was busy loitering around May, Brendan, and Drew. Ash was too far away to hear the contents of their discussion in any case, although the lavender-haired man would occasionally emit peals of high, girly laughter.

"No, really?" Gary mumbled, an eyebrow cocked. Ash almost blushed.

"Seriously! Did they sign me up?" Ash asked, unable to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

"I think they signed you up by default. Everyone else is done; you've overslept stupendously, Sleeping Beauty." Gary said nonchalantly, looking at Professor Oak, Tracey, and Ash's mother work. Ash flushed a light red, but hoped that Gary had not seen him. "You should probably go check, just to be sure."

"Oh, thanks, Gary!" Ash beamed. He reached out to hug Gary without really thinking, and by the time he realized what he was doing his arms were already around the auburn-haired Trainer's abdomen. The light flush on his cheeks bloomed into bright red, and to hide it, Ash buried his head deeper inside Gary's side, surprised by how warm his rival was. It felt good to hug him.

Then, as if truly realizing what he was doing, Ash bounced back and began tearing at breakneck speed towards the place where his mother, Professor Oak, and Tracey were working, hoping very much that Gary would just forget about the entire incident. After his talk with Misty, though incomplete, Ash had begun feeling a lot more confident around Gary… but now all that was shattered. He prayed silently that Gary would suffer a case of severe amnesia and forget their entire almost midday conversation.

"Hey, Mom, am I on here?" Ash asked anxiously, trying to keep the image of hugging Gary—of inhaling his soothing scent—away from his mind. It was hard.

His mother's sleek terra-cotta ponytail turned. "Why, of course, dear. Do you want to see the board?

"Sure!" Ash said enthusiastically. He craned his neck to look at the board. Words were written in chalk in his mother's bubbly, childish handwriting.

BATTLE TOURNAMENT

??????? VS ???????

????? vs ???? ???? vs ????

??????? vs ??????? ??????? vs ??????? ??????? vs ??????? ???????? vs ???????

Brendan vs Max Brock vs Tracey Tyson vs May Misty vs Lucas Gary vs Paul Ash vs Dawn Silver vs Marina Turquoise vs Jimmy

CONTEST

WINNERS???? and ????

??????? and ??????? VS ??????? and ???????

??????? vs ??????? ??????? vs ??????? ??????? vs ??????? ??????? vs ???????

Appealers: May Drew Dawn Brendan Marina Zoey Kenny Ash Max Brock Misty Harley

"Oh, wow, Gary has to go against Paul in the first round..." Ash mused, studying the blackboard intently. Mr. Mime evaporated out of thin air besides the black-haired Trainer, looking slightly dazzled, but Ash ignored him. "Huh. Ouch. I have to go against Dawn in the first round of the battle Tournament; I mean, of course, I'll flatten her, since she's still somewhat of a rookie compared to me, but..." He looked around wildly in case the girl was around.

"Ash, don't talk about people like that," Delia Ketchum scolded, making a last few marks on the blackboard.

"But, it's obvious! Huh... wait... who's 'Turquoise'?" Ash asked, puzzled.

"She's a girl who just moved to Pallet! She says her mother told her to come here and socialize, and I thought that I might as well invite her, she's so sweet! Look, there she is now," Ash's mother answered, pointing towards Ash's right. Turning his head, the black-haired Trainer noticed a girl with dark brown hair and a wide-brimmed white hat converse with Gary, who was looking disgruntled. She appeared to be laughing a lot, and frequently batted his eyelids at the auburn-haired Researcher. Ash's insides coiled.

His mother seemed to have noticed the unfriendly expression on Ash's face, so to draw his attention away from him, she said cheerfully, "Hey, look, Drew and Brendan—at least, I think that's his name, he has really pale skin, doesn't he?—are having a battle."

Distracted, Ash turned around. Indeed, May's green-haired rival was battling against Brendan. Both wore expressions of great dislike, and a thin crowd, consisting of a cheering Harley and a worried-looking May and more, had congregated, although neither battlers seemed to have noticed. Drew's Flygon and Brendan's Dragonite were flying overhead, sending long-range attacks at each other.

"The heck—?" Ash murmured, padding over to where Drew and Brendan were engaged in fierce conversation. He tilted his head skywards, squinting to avoid being temporarily blinded, and noticed that the two Dragon-typed Pokemon seemed to be fairly evenly matched, and Ash wondered who would win.

Before the outcome of the battle could be decided, however, Ash's mother had, by way of shouting loudly, caught everyone's attention. Watching Drew and Brendan out of the corner of his eyes, Ash saw both Trainers return their Pokemon with jerky movements.

"Over here, everyone! May I have everyone's attention!" Delia barked. Ash had never known his mother to have such a loud voice. The crowd which had formed around Drew and Brendan's now-finished battle began drifting towards the terracotta-haired woman. "We are going to begin the Contest appeals now! The top eight appealers will battle against each other in a knockout tournament! Mr. Mime here is going to knock off, er, oranges to represent each appealer's Battle points!"

On cue, the psychic-typed Pokemon stepped forwards, emitting a neighborly, "Mime, mime!" It now became apparent what the oranges' purpose were; Mr. Mime's eyes glowed pink and all of the oranges promptly rose into the air, forming eight circles of orange atop the crowd's heads. Several people clapped in respect.

"Anyways, that's our makeshift replacement for the computer points! We will use names drawing out of a basket in replacement for the computer-randomized matchings!" Delia shouted energetically. The crowd began murmuring with approval. Ash, however glad they were to have battles, was simpering lightly at the fact that he did not have much time to talk with his friends. Wasn't this the whole point of the reunion—? Shrugging the thought away, Ash tuned his attention back to his mother. "And now, let's begin the Contest Appeals! First appealer, May Maple of Petalburg!"

May Sapphire Maple exclaimed in delight. Since the previous night, when she had first heard of the reunion's small Contest, she had signed up—although admittedly, partly to evade Harley. Discarding all thoughts of the undoubtedly malevolently interested Coordinator, she leapt into one of the painted battle fields and flung out a random Pokeball, trusting her deliciously good luck to make a decent pick.

Soon enough, the fluttering figure of her Beautifly appeared in a cloud of chalky white smoke, squealing exuberantly in a high-pitched, "Wooooh!" May grinned to herself—her Beautifly was indeed a good choice to set off things with, and she could always get into the battle round of a Contest when she used her Beautifly.

"All right, Beautifly!" May said energetically, punching the air with her right fist as her Beautifly began her regular appeal routine of spinning around in mid air and emanating silver sparks. "Start things off with a 'Whirlwind!'"

Complying, the butterfly-like Pokemon began spinning even faster, whipping up a miniature tornado. May backed away a few feet so that she would not be encaged inside the wind. The crowd, too, stepped back. "'Silver Wind' now!" May cried, thrusting her own arms apart in an imitation of her Beautifly's wings. The bug Pokemon gave a small squeak of consent, and added silvery dust to the fray. May blinked several times as several stray puffs of dust nearly entered her own eyes.

Dancing around, very much pleased with herself, May queried, "How did I do?"

"Very well, we're impressed," The scratchy voice of Professor Oak said. Opening her eyes, May saw that above her name, Delia had wrote in chalk a number '27.'

Contentedly, May waved to Drew and Brendan. The latter pinked slightly, but May thought that was probably just because of the sunlight or something. Drew, however, merely flicked his hair, earning himself a hearty scowl from May.

Dawn Pearl Hikari watched in amazement as Drew finished his appeal with a perfect 'Water Pulse' from his Absol. Wow... I can't believe that Ash knew someone this good! She thought to herself admiringly. The people around her erupted into fervent plaudit, and a 30 was drawn above Drew's name.

The green-haired Coordinator flashed everyone around him a smirk, and returned the Disaster Pokemon in a flash of bright crimson light. Inspired, Dawn practically leapt onto the circular clearing the crowd was centered around, with an intention to top even the legendary Drew's performance.

"Come out, Pachirisu!" She exclaimed excitably, throwing her Pachirisu's marked Pokeball into the air. The electric-typed Pokemon appeared in a flash of blinding yellow, chirping happily and bubbling with energy. "Pachirisu, 'Discharge'!"

Nodding, the squirrel-like Pokemon jumped into the air, sparks flaring from the small blue circles on its cheeks. Shards of electricity burst out of the Pachirisu, rapidly forming a sphere that surrounded her. Then, with all the vigor of a Pokemon exceeding her size, the Pachirisu allowed the 'Discharge' technique to expel itself in all directions, nearly shocking the crowd. "Good job, Pachirisu!" Dawn praised, returning her Pokemon without further ado—the azure-haired girl was afraid the squirrel-like Pokemon would get stage fright again, as sometimes was the case.

"Good job yourself, Dawn! You earned a 24.5!" Delia said, indicating the freshly-edited scoreboard. Twenty-four point five? It's not bad, I guess... kind of sad compared to Drew... I wonder how well Kenny and Zoey will do... hah, Zoey'll give Drew a run for his money...

Feeling slightly better, Dawn walked to Zoey, Kenny, Lucas, and Tyson, all four of them showering compliments on her. 24.5 really isn't bad, after all, Dawn thought to herself, feeling her cheeks flush as Kenny and Tyson gave her, at the same time, a sincere smile. Then, the two boys turned to each other, frowning, and proceeded to shoot each other glares. Dawn frowned herself—it was unusual of them to act like this, weren't they good friends? Perhaps time had changed people. Abandoning the thought, the azure-haired Coordinator turned to see a white-haired boy enter the make-shift stage after herself.

"Wow, Brendan, that was really good!" Marina Crystal Clearwater heard the bandana wearing girl exclaim. The white-haired boy, who had just completed his Dragonite's appeal of various water combination attacks, apparently trying to overdo the last user of water—Drew—and earned himself a 29, the last point marked off because Drew had already used a water move. The albino, Brendan or something like that, seemed severely disheartened by this, but perked up considerably after hearing the brown-haired girl's praise.

I'll show them! Marina thought to herself, grip tightening around her Feraligatr's Pokeball...

Viridian City Gym, Viridian City, Kanto

Mewtwo vaguely heard Giovanni say dissmissively, "I need to get Articuno now," to the three scientists garbed in white.

The word pathetic longed to roll out of his feline mouth.

Yet it couldn't.

He couldn't move. There was something wrong, terribly wrong, but everytime Mewtwo tried to think about this, the subject would slip from himself, and he was left wondering what he had been thinking about.

So, when his mind began to fog, Mewtwo tore his focus off of the subject and instead, lapsed into a conscious sleep.

A/N:

Blah! FINALLY done with chapter 5! x)

The ending was a bit rushed, I know. I'm not very good at writing cliffhangers... I hardly doubt anybody cares whether Marina passes or not... -sighs-

I do like this chapter better than the last one, even though very little happens in this one (sorry 'bout that, in case you were expecting a huge battle scene, there will be PLENTY of that in the next chapter, oh that I can guarantee ;) )

Please review:)