Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon. These semifinals of the Women's World Cup are SO CRAZY. (Oh, I don't own the World Cup either, I was just saying.)
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When Dawn woke up from a night of what can barely be called sleep, it was 5:30 in the morning. She groaned and rolled over, but knew she wouldn't be falling asleep again.
That was the last night I'm sleeping alone, Dawn thought listlessly as she lay there. I should just get up, this is getting me nowhere.
She heaved herself out of bed and went into her bathroom. She turned on the water in her shower as hot as it could go and slid out of her pajamas. She yawned sleepily as she waited for the water to heat up. She glanced as her reflection in the mirror – she looked terrible, with dark circles under her eyes. Dawn wrinkled her nose and stepped into the shower.
The water burned her back and toes, and she shuddered against the feeling. She closed her eyes and let the hot water work out the kinks in her back she'd gotten from tossing and turning all night.
Why does the league require marriage of all its Champions? Dawn found herself wondering for the millionth time. The only answer she'd been able to come up with was that a restriction such as that would even further limit who could attempt to be a Champion. But that doesn't make any sense, it's restricted enough as it is.
There has to be a real reason, Dawn thought decisively. Who can I ask, who could possibly know? And who I could ask without blowing Paul's cover?
This question occupied her for her entire shower, which lasted a good hour longer than the half-hour it usually took. The lengthy shower had achieved its purpose, though – she knew who she could ask. Especially if the rumors were true...
Dawn took her time getting out of the shower, thoroughly drying her hair and straightening it carefully. She knew he wouldn't be awake for a while, but she could wake him up at nine.
She dressed herself in her pink pajama sweatpants and a black top; she would be home all day and certainly had no one to impress. So she'd be comfortable.
Dawn traipsed out of her bedroom at about 8:30. In the time it would take her to settle her Pokémon down enough to eat, it would be close enough to nine to make her call.
"Alright," Dawn called, startling her Pokémon into wakefulness, "Wake up, everyone! It's time for breakfast. Plus, I have something to tell you all."
She settled herself onto the couch beside Quilava and Lopunny. "Someone will be moving in with us today," Dawn said. Several of her Pokémon exchanged looks. "Do you remember Paul?"
"Pip pip pip pip!" Piplup said indignantly. Dawn sighed.
"Well, Piplup, he's moving in today."
"Pip, Piplup pip!" Piplup crossed his arms.
"Piplup, that's crazy!" Dawn exclaimed. "I would never let Paul treat any of you badly. That's crazy. He wouldn't dare to even try."
"Pip," Piplup muttered, unconvinced.
"No need to worry, any of you!" Dawn assured them. She stood up and walked to the kitchen. "Now, who wants breakfast?"
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It was nine-fifteen by the time Dawn's Pokémon had finished their breakfasts; Dawn figured she had waited long enough. She pulled out her Pokégear and scrolled down to the number she was seeking.
Pick up the phone, Dawn pleaded with the rings.
After way too many rings, someone picked up the phone.
"Dawn... Why are you calling me this early?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
"Sorry, Ash, but I have a really important question to ask you," Dawn said apologetically.
"Not so loud," Ash protested. "What's your question? I'm sure it doesn't have to do with your stupid engagement. I gave you my opinion on that last night."
Dawn flinched. "Yeah, Ash, you were very clear. No, my question is about you."
"Me? Why?" Ash asked, sounding more awake.
"Are you still in contact with Flint?"
"Flint?"
Ash had trained under Flint for a few months three years ago.
"Yeah. Like, do you still talk to him?" Dawn amended.
"Of course I still talk to him...," Ash said, confused. "Why?"
"Can you give me his number?" Dawn requested.
"Uh... Sure," Ash said. He told her the number, and she wrote it down on her hand.
"Thanks, Ash!" Dawn said. "Go back to sleep. You've been a big help!"
"No problem," Ash said, still sounding perplexed. "Later."
Dawn hung up and took a deep breath. She dialed the number she'd written on her hand, and held the Pokégear up to her ear again.
The phone rang itself out, and Dawn was greeted with a message.
"Hey, there, you've reached Flint's phone. Leave me a message – I'll probably call you back."
Dawn waited for the beep before speaking, "Um, hi? Flint, it's me, Dawn. We, uh, met a really long time ago. I'm a friend of Ash Ketchum's – he gave me your number. I have something I wanted to ask you... So, if you get this message, can you call me back at this number..."
She hung up. Guess there's not much to do except wait, Dawn thought.
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Paul awoke early, as usual. He glanced around the room – no longer his room – at the small boxes next to the door. He sighed.
This day should be no different from any other. It's time to work with just Magmortar today. See if he's done any thinking and made some progress.
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It was now 11:30, and Dawn was laying on her couch, flipping through the channels trying to find May's Contest when her Pokégear started ringing. She stared at it for a second, lying on her coffee table. Maybe this was a really bad idea...
She grabbed her Pokégear and flipped it open, without giving herself time to back out.
"Hello?" she answered with trepidation.
"Dawn?"
It was Flint.
"Yeah, it's Dawn. Um, I'm really glad you called me back...," Dawn said nervously.
"It's no problem. You said you had a question?"
"Yeah, I uh... What's up?" Dawn finished lamely. Really? Did I just say that?
"Haha. I'm fine," Flint laughed. "But I doubt that's your question."
"No. I was actually wondering... I heard a rumor that you actually beat Cynthia," Dawn blurted out.
Flint was silent.
"I mean, it's just a rumor, but I definitely heard that you beat her a couple of years ago," Dawn continued, stymied by his silence.
"Why do you want to know?" Flint asked flatly.
"I... I was really just..."
"Yeah, I beat her," Flint said bitterly. "Three years ago."
"Y-you did? Really?" Dawn squeaked.
"Yes. Why?"
"Well... Why aren't you Champion now, then?" Dawn asked cautiously. Flint sighed heavily.
"Because," Flint began, "I'm not married."
Dawn's breath caught in her chest. It really is true.
"Why should that matter?" Dawn asked quietly.
"Because the League... is so corrupt. That's why I left my position in the Elite Four back then," Flint revealed. He hadn't given a reason three years ago, when he had unexpectedly resigned. "When I found out about how they really are, I couldn't stand to be a part of it any more."
"They just let you leave?"
"Yep," Flint said darkly. "But not before making me swear – and by swear, I mean they threatened me and my Pokémon – that I would never breathe a word of my defeat of Cynthia, or of anything I'd found out about them."
"Then why tell me?"
"I don't think you'd tell anyone," Flint said. "And who'd believe you if you did?"
No one, Dawn realized. That's why it's so brilliant. A perfect set-up. No one would believe it if anyone spoke out against the League, because they're so well-respected.
"But why wouldn't they let you become Champion?" Dawn repeated.
"I told you, because I'm not married."
"Why should that matter at all?"
"Money," Flint answered bluntly.
"Huh?" Dawn said brilliantly.
"As I'm sure you know, the League has to collect taxes," Flint said, putting heavy sarcastic influence on the words 'has to,' "to keep the tournaments going, to fund the starter Pokémon program, to fund the Gyms, everything."
"Mmhmm," Dawn hummed, to show she was listening.
"And they tax Gym Leaders some, the Elites more, but they get their real money from the Champion," Flint continued clinically. "Everyone wants to challenge the Champion, businesses pay to have the Champion represent them or appear in their commercials, they make special appearances at events. They get payed ridiculously for everything. So obviously, they get paid more than anyone else."
"That makes sense," Dawn said, "but it doesn't explain why the Champion has to be married."
"If the Champion is married," Flint said, anger starting to color his voice, "the League can double the taxes they collect off of the Champion. Because the Champion theoretically has a double income, theirs and their spouse's, the League taxes the Champion for both. They then get a gross increase in the money they make, but can put on record that they tax only the Champion. That way, they can keep the excess for themselves."
Dawn's mouth fell open.
"It's because of money?" she asked incredulously.
"Are you really surprised?" Flint asked hollowly. "That's what it all comes down to, in the end."
"I thought it would be a real reason, though," Dawn protested.
"Yeah."
Dawn said nothing for a moment, processing the information Flint had just imparted to her. Another question came to her.
"But why don't the Champions protest?" Dawn asked. "Why don't they fight it? If people knew about this, they'd be outraged."
"A lot of them don't find out for a while. They just assumed the title, the whirlwind of everything keeps them distracted. The League counts on that for a few years."
"But Cynthia's been Champion for like, fifteen years now," Dawn pointed out. "She should know for sure!"
"She does," Flint said. "But there's nothing she can really do. The League knows everything about all of the Elite trainers, and they know even more about the Champion. They do so many in-depth background check on all of the Elites, and any and all trainers they consider a threat to the current Champion. They know everything there is to know about Cynthia. They've threatened her, I'm sure. They can expose everything she's ever done – completely destroy her reputation, her future, everything. For her husband, too. He's not as high-profile, but the League would go after him, no problem.. She probably stays quiet to protect him, more than herself."
Dawn was silent. This was one of the most outrageous things she'd ever heard.
"Out of curiosity, why do you ask?"
Dawn felt sweat beading on the back of her neck.
"I just heard you'd won... And I wondered why you weren't Champion," Dawn said, feigning honesty.
"That was three years ago," Flint said, confused. "Why now?"
"I, uh, just remembered." Dawn lied weakly.
"Okay...," Flint said doubtfully.
"But, thank you," Dawn said sincerely. "I'm sorry about your... Well..."
"Yeah, I know."
"Sorry you got cheated out of the Champion's title."
"Thanks," Flint sighed. "Well, it's history now, anyway."
"Thanks again for calling me," Dawn said.
"No problem," Flint shrugged. "Say hi to your buddy Ash for me."
"I will!" Dawn promised.
They hung up, and Dawn sat back down and stared blankly at the carpet. How can they be so dishonest? So corrupt? This is wrong, what they're doing...
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