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Part 1 - Inspiration
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Chapter 1
The Master of Indifference
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Erika - Celadon City
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FffftwiTTT.
"Nine out of ten…" a soft voice murmured.
The owner of the voice reached down and lightly picked the last arrow out of a quaint and simple quiver. She softly lowered the tip onto her bow, raised the bow up onto her shoulders, slipped her remaining fingers around the taught string, and then pulled back on it ever so gracefully. She looked downrange, measuring the distance and concentrating on the wind, taking an aim she has aimed for over 4 years, an aim she learned after an encounter with one specific young man.
PhfffffFFFFEEEEEWWWwwwwEEEEW WWWwwwWWW, the wind whistled
…
Just a little…
…
PHfffeeeww
…
phfeeEEW-
-NOW! Her eyes sharply widened as her fingers released the string, forcing the arrow to lunge the 100 meters towards its target.
FffftwiTTT. Another bullseye.
"Ten…out of ten."
The young lady gingerly placed down her bow on its rack and slowly glided over to a nearby chalkboard. On it, there were ten columns; each labeled a number zero through ten, ordered numerically.
The only column with any marks under it was the one labeled "10." On it, the archer scraped on yet another hashmark, the way she had marked consistently since Kanto's run-in with Team Rocket at Silph Co.
"Today…I total 612," she mused out loud.
"M'lady Erika, a perfect shot as always!" cheered a voice behind her.
Erika didn't even bother to glance over her shoulder. She had a general idea who the voice had come from. It was another one of the townsfolk of Celadon, her most obedient helpers and followers.
Yet Erika hated seeing them in this light—she never enforced anyone to do anything. They simply helped because they wanted to. With the exception of the one time that stubborn challenger had come by and demanded an apology, Erika never made the community actually do anything.
…
That challenger…ended up becoming one of the most important people to Erika, not just because of his inner compassion, his skills as a trainer, the numerous times he's saved the world (or at least a region of it)…no there was something totally different that makes him important to her.
…
It is simply part of the culture of Celadon City. Erika's family is the richest in the city – one of the richest in Kanto on that note – and had been for quite some time. The reason is very vague, but Erika did know a little about her ancestry. Something about one of her elders making a good financial move that scored her family an incredible amount of wealth and riches, or at least as far as she knows. The archer is also aware that her feminine ancestors abused their power over the citizens, and enforced them to work for them. Once Erika learned about this, especially when she learned about it firsthand, she promised herself to never do the same.
Never again would she let that one thing happen to anyone…to anyone…
Yet when it's for Erika, the Celadon people really enjoy working. And since they enjoy it, Erika did not really do much about it. She simply asked, and they responded. Cheerfully, and willingly.
As for the current voice, someone was always watching her when she was at the archery range. Watching, and admiring.
Erika kept her back turned, feigning happiness in the compliment.
"Thank you very much, I appreciate it truly," she uttered with a warm voice.
Erika's voice is one that just melts your ears. It has the warmth and comfort of a hearth amalgamated with all the intelligence and intuition of a professor. Her resonance alone tells people that they want to be her friend. She has the voice that causes numerous people to fall for her even before they've seen her.
And then when they see her, they faint on the spot.
Erika got up and walked over to the changing room. She gingerly grasped the knob and turned it, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her without peering back through it.
Forgive me, Celadon… Erika thought to herself, …I truly am grateful for your kindness. There is something else that is greatly bothering me, which I cannot stop from overcoming me.
The locker room of the archery range is a microcosm of Celadon itself. A locker room is something that is not supposed to be beautiful. It is supposed to be purely functional, tainted by sweat and grime, spoiled by industry and urbanization. Celadon has a gym, and a game corner, and a department store, and a park, and a university (combined with a research center), and an archery range (connected to a larger recreation area), and multiple hotels, and a Pokemon Center, and a PokeMart. It has the most trafficked gate to Saffron, and is also connected to the infamous Bicycle Path. It, by definition, should be a bustling city overcome by smog and urban waste.
Erika's first project she conducted when she earned independence was to beautify a Celadon that once resembled this urban wasteland. She put many resources and a lot of effort into opening up space, installing natural features, expanding the park. The city was completely remodeled and freshened up. Erika herself was the leader of the excursion, partaking in the renovations with her own two hands and intelligence.
It turned out gorgeous. Every breath smelt of crisp, clean air; every sight shone of an unorthodox blending of beautiful nature and urban luxury.
Just like Celadon, the locker rooms are beautiful when they rightfully shouldn't be: painted with lustrous colors and maintained like a queen's royal badminton changing room.
The Celadon pride slid across the woman's room and found her personal locker (which the citizens donated to her…she never actually asked for one). She opened the door to find her garb to wear for the rest of the day. Inside the locker lay a note, one she made herself many years ago:
"You, Erika, are tough. You, Erika, are strong. You, Erika, can do whatever you want…
…but YOU, Erika, are kind and indifferent."
Erika stared at it for a second. She brushed the back of her hand against the scratchy parchment, trying to let its promise sink into her veins.
…Those words used to encourage me…why don't they anymore?
Erika sighed and moved on to start changing.
Erika has an appearance that can only be described as lovely. Her head flowers with deep, dark violet hair, sliced short at her shoulders but neatly brushed and cured into slick, straight lines. Every last bristle sparkles with health and beauty. A simple salmon headband holds her hair in place, as her bangs extend out from her head like a ridge before curling back in. The back of her hair flowed down like a waterfall all the way around her head, even covering up her ears. Her hair accents her eyes whose sparkling, cool royal purple shade suggests a kind and intelligent individual. The irises combine with the whites of her eye in a way that one can only sit and admire the soothing effect they cast. The most amazing part about Erika is that when she changes moods, her expression changes, but her entire presence and being always emanates beauty. Her face can, and does dazzle you with its pure elegance. It is a beauty that is not forced, but is simply natural. It is elegant.
It is just lovely.
Erika always dresses in modest and beautiful clothing, frequently in either kimonos or outfits similar to kimonos. She understands that kimonos are just traditional. Her family has been wearing them for centuries, even though it was outdated over 1000 years ago. Not that Erika minded—she actually loves the kimonos. They typically are fashioned out of silk, handcrafted with elegance. They are soft yet mobile, modest yet beautiful.
Although Erika's favorite outfit, and the one she wears most frequently, is typical: some sort of simple, modest, and smooth top, with a simple, modest, and smooth full-body skirt that starts at about the end of the ribcage and ends all the way at her feet. It describes who she is in a simple "fashion" statement.
It is just lovely.
The specific outfit she wears for archery is one built for athleticism. The top is a slightly faded lavender top that looks similar to a robe. The sleeves cut off before the elbows, allowing the user free movement of the upper body. It fit on Erika tight enough so that it extenuated her actual beauty, but loose enough so that it described a modest and mature girl. A deep purple strand of cloth stretches across Erika's chest and illuminates her face. As usual, the bottom portion of the dress is a full-body skirt. This one is a deep purple, accordion-like fashion that flowed with Erika's actions, but did so quickly to allow for quick and rapid changes of movement and reactions.
Her skin, by the way, is a distinctly beautiful vanilla cream. It does not just look soft, it looks perfect. Pristine. Elegant. It radiated an indescribable amount of beauty. Her body itself is beautiful, yet not suggestive. Light would shine on it and shower the room with absolute and jaw-dropping loveliness. It gave off the impression that if Erika stood in a dark room, her skin alone would shed enough light to let her see her way through.
It is just lovely.
Everything about Erika suggests a princess, but she acts just as every other gym leader does: a protector. She will literally put her life on the line to lead and protect the people of Celadon.
She has already proven that, thrice over the last three and a half years.
Erika herself is someone the world needs more of. She has all the power and beauty a girl her age could want, but instead of fashioning a world loyal to her, she fashioners herself to be loyal to her world. At the very least, she is the wealthiest person in Celadon, the most incredibly beautiful person in Celadon, the most amazingly gifted person in Celadon. Yet Erika is a tender and kind teenager, loyal to her city. Her mature yet caring nature is unprecedented for someone her age. The maiden rallies her troops of Celadon together for a necessary deed, and afterwards tends to the wounded with her own caring hands. She treats all Pokemon with the same high level of profound respect and compassion.
At one moment a profound leader, the next a mature yet cheerful girl. It is how she ended up meeting someone special in her life.
Someone who gave Erika her highest highs…and is keeping her at her lowest low.
Hundreds of boys have their hearts set out for her, yet Erika is no coquette. She is incredibly kind to everyone, even those who have hurt her in some way. Her actual heart and love is something unknown, as she cares for everyone with an undying and gracious love.
Needless to say, Erika is quite the catch.
But nowadays she is overcome with an emotional blow and a personal sadness. One she has already dealt with in the past, yet at a lesser extent. It was still hurtful, just not quite at this caliber.
Archery is something she does to hone her skills as a trainer. The way Yellow masters the fishing rod, and Gold masters the cue, Erika masters archery. It is her unique skill in battle. She typically enjoys it as well, but recently it is becoming more and more of an unfortunate necessity than a desired good.
Erika walked out of the changing room in her standard clothing: a pure white, long sleeve dress that extends down to the floor. Her sleeves are slightly baggy, about the extent of a perfectly sized sweater; however they cuff together tightly at her wrists. Under her collar is a purple handkerchief, which flows out at the front of her neck. Below her waist is a smooth, off-white full body skirt that flows around fluidly as she moved and twisted.
On normal occasions, Erika would step out into the open Celadon atmosphere and breathe its beautiful air while smiling a sweet and slightly girlish smile, acknowledging her wonderful life. Especially on today, where she gives her once-a-week lecture at Celadon University.
While she was striding over to the exit, she glanced over at a special arrow hanging on the wall, surrounded by a Plexiglas casing, resting on a red velvet backdrop. It was covered in gold completely, except for the very tip, where a ruby arrowhead lay.
"…"
Erika sighed at the sight of it.
As she stepped out into the sun and started walking the path to the University, her hands folded in front of her, she could only look down.
The loyal citizens have been noticing her change in attitude since a month ago when she arrived back from a weeklong excursion to Cerulean City that was mysteriously cut off earlier than planned. They were confused as to what could have happened to Lady Erika. As she was walking down the sidewalk, they just whispered to each other and stared after the uncharacteristically melancholy teenager.
"It's seriously worrying me!"
"What's happened to our lady, Erika?"
"Was she beaten badly in battle?"
"No, Erika loves battles and doesn't mind losing, although it never happens."
"The last time she looked like this was when Red disappeared…"
Erika cringed at the name and held her hand up, stopping immediately in her tracks.
She politely requested, "Kindly please, would you leave me some time to my thoughts?"
The people sweatdropped and nodded, knowing the true meaning of "time to my thoughts."
So they let Erika continue the rest of the journey alone.
"Apparently under further discovery it is apparent that the previously known elemental punches, "Fire Punch, Thunder Punch, and Ice Punch," are not the only elemental punches. Research at this very facility is being conducted regarding…"
BBBRRRRINGG! BRRINGGGG!
"…ah well we'll continue this discussion next week!"
Erika placed down her teaching stick and waited until a few moments after the last student shuffled out the door before following in suit. As she was walking down the hallway, the head professor's voice rang out behind her:
"Lady Erika!"
Surprised, the elegant girl turned her head to face the professor.
"Erika! The department still has not failed to see the rapid increase in popularity of your class! The offer for an extended position still stands…"
Erika smiled, responding, "I am still truly flattered professor. But with the new rules the Director has set in place, my gymleading duties are more necessary than ever."
Sweatdropping, the little man sighed, "Yeah I suppose that is still misfortunate for us. Err…I really don't mean to intrude, but you've been looking rather pale recently…"
Erika's face darkened. Using an incredible amount of willpower to keep smiling, she responded again, "A good friend of mine…feels more lost than ever to me right now."
And with that she parted from him and walked home, feeling not just alone, but straight lonely.
She stepped into her house. Closed the door. Sat down at her computer.
But unlike last time this similar thing happened, she didn't rush to Misty's contact number. She just stared at it. And somewhere inside of her, she knew her friend had unintentionally stolen her heart.
Erika loves teaching flower arrangements. It is a wonderful thing in her eyes, allowing nature's beauty to flourish.
Naturally, considering she is a Grass-type master.
It is sort of funny. Most everyone who is significant in Kanto is a prodigy in their own right. Erika, she knows all that she does. Brock, he trains people in how to make so-called "tanks" of Pokemon (or those which are strong in both offense and defense), and also is the commander of expeditions to Mt. Moon. Blue, whom everyone looks up to as a master trainer of Pokemon and slobbers over every last piece of advice he gives. Janine, who is an incredibly gifted ninja, following her father's suit, and also helps with testing safety systems. Sabrina, who, although had false motives in her earlier years, is a master Psychic, better than most everyone in the world. Misty gives swimming lessons and advanced water technique practice in Cerulean's national beach. And everyone knew about the incredible feats of Red, Yellow, and Green.
All while they are still young.
Red, Green, and Blue are all 16. Misty and Brock are 15 ½. Janine and Sabrina are 17 and 18, respectively. Yellow is 14. Erika herself is only 16.
Most of them have been doing their respective duties for well over a couple years to boot.
But even through teaching the arrangements, all the wonderful students she teaches and all their flowerbeds she helps them usher into the world, all the different types and colors and annularity the flowerbeds have, she has a favorite.
Her own flowerbed.
She manages it daily, caring for the flowers and tending to their needs, as she is now; on her hands and knees with one hand wielding a trowel and her other out on the dirt to support her. She has a watering pail to her right, and a nutrient-enhancing solution to her left.
But she refuses to let herself get too attached to the garden, and restrains herself from personal bias in gardening. Indifference, she called it. Erika is always in favor of letting nature tell her what to do.
And it typically works really well.
The caretaker's garden is beautiful and bursting with life. Walking into it is walking into a sea of nature, lilies and lotuses, cacti and roses, exotic life and pretty life, each individual petal and leaf sparkles with vivid health and brims with unconditional love.
Erika's theory works well. So well that she has never questioned it until now.
Her duties for today were done. She has perfectly watered the plants that needed it; spread the solution in places where nature would spread it. As per usual, she treated each plant equally.
Indifference.
Erika never planted seeds, the plants would spread on their own. They would scatter and battle for control of the ground, the way nature would have it. Her garden has no order to it other than the fact that plants thrived in it. Oddly enough plants didn't die in Erika's care. She has always had some sort of magic about her that plants did not die under her care.
Indifference.
Erika stood up, picked up the watering pail and solution, and carefully started sidestepping her way to the entrance. When she was halfway there, she brushed against a giant leaf, scattering dirt around her. She stopped and looked up at the beautiful moonlit sky. She stopped herself to take a moment and stare at it.
She closed her eyes and thought back over her battle with Pryce, a battle she tirelessly watches day after day to figure out what she did wrong in it. She can't figure out why, she just knows she has an urge to figure out her lapse in the battle. It is as if some part of her knows how incredibly crucial this battle was, and that she needs to learn from it. She can't figure out what or why, the feeling just gnaws at Erika.
Indifference.
She has won every serious battle she has been in while using this theory, with the exception of Pryce's infamous battle.
My most important battle of my life, I lost while using indifference. I probably could have ended his campaign early if I had just won…
Her battle was executed so pristinely, so accurately. She never let up once, never showed a sign of weakness. She stood, unwavering, in the face of a battle she was predesigned to lose. She did all a skilled battler is supposed to do when confronting a powerful trainer with a significant type advantage.
But I still lost…
…
I didn't just lose, I got clobbered by and embarrassed by my own strategy.
…
And now I am losing another battle, the real battle of my life.
…
The battle for my heart.
She started to choke up on her own emotions.
And now…now…
Her eyes started watering.
Now I don't know if my life is real.
She started sniffling and she tried to force back the tears that were starting to take over her beautiful face.
I am a kind and generous person…I know that. But –sniff- I am still suffering more than I should right now…
A single teardrop slithered from her eye and down her unnaturally pale face. It hung on her cheek for a moment, and then fell off her cheek and hit the dirt behind Erika as she began running for the medium that stood between her and her bed. A bed she will end up crying herself to sleep for the seventh night in a row.
Erika is one of the toughest people the world knows. She has been through some of the greatest turmoil a person can withstand…actually a considerable amount of turmoil a normal person cannot sanely withstand…and goes through it with an unfazed expression of maturity, strength, and beauty. Only once has she knowingly bawled over a tragedy she has experienced.
She is the master of indifference.
Yet for some reason this crying is almost becoming a daily routine.
…
Her very teardrop fell onto the dirt that she hat scattered earlier. In this dirt was a tiny seed.
Together, the teardrop and seed sank down into earth.