"You don't play fair!" said the boy, returning his caterpie to its ball. He was nearly in tears. "Now you've fainted my pokemon, and you didn't do it by playing fair!"
"Fainted your pokemon? You should have brought more antidotes," said Arden. "Come on, Gimpy."
"That doesn't even make sense," said the boy.
"Yeah, well," was all Arden could say. He reached down to pick up Gimpy, but the squirtle smacked his hands away.
"Squirt!"
"What, you think it's cheating, too?" asked Arden. The squirtle shook his head. "Oh, what then?"
The squirtle huffed and crossed his arms. "Squirt. Squirtle."
"I don't understand what that means!" shouted Arden, grabbing at his own hair with one had. "I—jeez. Fine, then. You can walk if you're going to be like that!"
And, face red with anger, Arden spun around and stomped further into the forest. Gimpy slowly uncrossed his stubby arms and, scowling, followed. The squirtle's process, however, was impeded by his leg and, as he limped after his trainer, more and more ground came between boy and pokemon. It wasn't long before Arden was completely out of sight, much to Gimpy's distress.
Arden did not notice however. He was fed up with this place already. He wanted to just leave Kanto behind, and go back to Goldenrod City. Goldenrod… The sky scrapers, and the wide roads, and the game corner and underground and train station. Not to mention every friend he had, and everyone he knew and loved.
But he couldn't show his face there. Not like this. Not as a failure.
With a start, Arden realized that he'd taken quite a few turns without paying attention. He stopped and looked around the dark forest, realizing that Gimpy was no longer with him. "Gimp? …Gimpy?"
Silence.
Arden frowned. He didn't like this at all. He felt so alone, and vulnerable… He put his hand in his pocket, around Brain's pokeball to reassure himself that everything was fine. Every thing was perfectly fine. Everything was---
Some grass shook and Arden jumped.
"Eeeee---who's there?" he said. "I've got a pidgey and I'm not afraid to use it!"
He pulled out the pokeball and held it toward the grass like he was pointing a gun. The grass shook again.
"…Gimpy, is that you?" asked the young trainer hesitantly. He bit his lip. "I'm sorry about before, Gimp."
The grass shook again, and two long, thin ears poked out of it. Arden took a step back, and the ears—yellow, pointy things tipped with black—twitched. After a short hesitation, the head attached to the aforementioned ears also poked out of the grass. A pikachu, Arden saw with relief. It wasn't poisonous or frightening in anyway. In fact, it was kind of cute. Arden smiled and put Brain Damage's pokeball back in his pocket, before kneeling down.
"Hey there, little fella," he said, holding out one hand toward the pikachu. "How're you doing? Huh? Come here…"
The pikachu timidly took a few steps out of the grass, before crouching down about a yard away from Arden. Slowly, Arden reached into his pack. "I'm not gonna hurt you. It's alright," he said, pulling out a granola bar. He broke off a piece and held it forward. "Here. Have some of this."
"Piiiiika?" said the pokemon, tilting its head to one side. It took a step closer.
"It's alright," said Arden. "Here, take it."
The pikachu took a couple more steps forward, before straightening itself up. It reached his outstretched and sniffed the granola bar carefully. Arden smiled—it was so cute, and so timid… The pikachu's ears came forward and it appeared pleased by the offering. It was about to take it, Arden was sure.
But it didn't take it. Instead it opened its mouth and bit down hard on one of Arden's fingers.
"Ah—what the?!" yelled Arden, dropping the granola bar and quickly withdrawing his hand. The area was red and already swelling. He'd certainly have a bruise, now. And, above all, that was one painful bite! "Why would you do something like that? I offered you food!"
"Pi-ka!" shouted the pokemon, puffing out its chest. Electricity crackled on its bright red cheeks. "Piiikachu!"
"Hey, take it easy," said Arden, getting a little frightened. "I—I can give you the whole bar if you want. Do you want the whole bar?"
With an unsteady hand, he held out the rest of the granola bar to the pikachu, but it merely smacked it out of his hand. The bar fell to the dirt, and Arden couldn't help but feel that it was rather wasteful on the pokemon's part. The pikachu raised one of its large feet and stomped on the bar to further drive home it's point—whatever that was. "Ka-chu!"
"I don't… ah, jeez, really, now, I was going to eat that," said Arden, sitting down.
"Pikachu!" screamed the pokemon, flattening its ears. Arden didn't like the look of that. "Pi. Ka. Chuuuu!"
The pokemon pounded its chest with its tiny hands. Then, it leapt at Arden, straight at his face. He barely had time to let out a somewhat girly scream before the pokemon was upon him, smacking him with its little hands and its tail, and biting him and scratching him, and all the time crackling with energy while yelling at the top of its tiny lungs. Arden let out some terrified cries and tried to get the yellow rat pokemon off of him, but to no avail. It was dead set on beating him up. He had no idea why.
However, it just so happened that, as he flailed about, one of his fists made contact, knocking the pikachu off. Arden took the opportunity to scramble to his feet as the pikachu righted itself. It leaped at him again, and he threw a kick, hitting it in the stomach.
"You ruined my granola!" shouted Arden, feeling righteously angry and newly empowered.
"Pika!" shouted the pikachu and it lunged again. It struck Arden's torso, knocking the air out of him, but he brought down one balled fist on the back of its furry head.
The pikachu fell down, momentarily stunned, and a little disoriented. Arden reached into his bag and grabbed a pokeball. There was only one way to end this fight, he thought. He threw the pokeball and it enveloped the angry pikachu in its light.
The ball fell on the ground and Arden watched it with bated breath. It rolled once. Twice. Thrice. And then, with a beep, it was still. He had caught it!
Arden picked up the pokeball and, holding it, slumped down against the trunk of a tree to recover from the fight, holding it against his chest.
"Cruelty, they name is Pikachu," he mumbled. "…eh. Or maybe the other way around."
Worn out, he closed his eyes and, momentarily, drifted off to sleep. It was a while before he was awoken by Gimpy, who had spent hours hobbling through the forest to find him. Arden didn't know about the squirtle's labour, and he didn't thank him for making the effort. Instead, he simply picked up his pokemon and started again through the forest.
"All I know," said Arden. "Is that this had better well be the path to Pewter City!"