Steel (Poke)Ball Run
Chapter 6 – VS JOHNNY'S PRIDE
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Looking back, it feels odd for such a meeting to have taken place. All things considered, Johnny Joestar had not been meant to be on that beach in the first place. Not with the events and circumstances that had led to him being there in the first place: where a slightly dirty oceanic breeze could pepper his face; with his back to a herd of mount Pokemon some salesman was hocking to the late arrivals.
Even he wasn't certain why he was on this beach. He supposed, it could be for the spectacle. It was a big deal after all. Never before had there been a competition like this; not to mention the fact it was all to elect Unova's first Champion. He supposed, it could also be for the nostalgia. A few years ago, he had been a competitive Trainer and racer. A "genius" they used to hail him; now only in sneer. Everything from the smells and sights ignited some fondness in him. A brittle fondness, truth be told, he did not care for. People are drawn to the shiny new as well as the familiar.
Either way, here he was.
He was a nineteen year old lad from Striaton City, Unova which was basically on the other side of the region. Unovan by blood and by faith, he guesses. The world he had seen - parts of Kalos - hadn't been to his liking.
It was best to start children young so they could both fear and respect Pokemon. Be it in training or in racing. For Johnny, he got his start in racing at five. On the back of a mighty Gogoat his brother owned, he could race smooth and clean. His father, watching, thought to himself: My boy has to be a genius.
Being told that, Johnny believed that.
He enjoyed the attention that came the exhilaration of racing but he liked the racing a little better. At least to begin with; before he became obsessed with the former. He liked the rhythm to it. The way the saddle felt under him and the way his mount would kick up dirt and grass; propel itself forward freely. It was a beautiful, liberating feeling.
As Johnny got older and better at not just racing but Pokemon training also, he found many things drawn to him. Riches and fame: things that soon wouldn't mean a damn. But, he used to be the kind of person who lived in the moment and as such, things such as riches and fame consumed him. In short, he became quite the spoilt brat.
Everyone used to have such fond names for him; such as "JoJo" and "Joe-Kid" and "Rookie". He'd always liked "Rookie" best. It had spunk and he used to think he had a lot of it. The other two were just plain embarrassing to hear. But, fast forward a few years from when he was but a child, and the day dream fantasy of glory soon crumbled.
To continuously win battle after battle, race after race had been spectacular. To be on the top of the world was a much deserved victory. Everyone revered those who could tame the monsters of the various elements. And Johnny had done it as a kid. It's a vast symbol of humanity, nowadays. Just how weird and social and bloodthirsty we all are. And to be on top of such a world at a young age is foolishly dangerous; like playing the jester upon a crumbly cliff. And Johnny had done so excellently. Stupidly.
It meant there were no rules. Sometimes, it had been great. Johnny recalls the time he lost his virginity as an example to that one. He had been invited to a millionaire's house by his daughter and her friend. When he arrived, they had been more than friendly with him. Without a word to him, they had stripped down and invited Johnny to a very intriguing experience and Johnny had loved every moment of it. After all, her parents' weren't home.
On the other end of the spectrum though, was the day when Johnny had lost it all. It was over something dumb but Johnny can envision it happening any other way. At that point in time, anything could have ruptured his bubble of arrogance.
Castelia City was gorgeous in the springtime. Mild and agreeable weather with something to do on every block. It was a huge city but Johnny only frequented the respectable streets. Down one of the more reputable streets is a very famous restaurant, if you can call it that. On Tuesdays, and only Tuesdays, there is an ice-cream stand that sells its world famous Castelia Cones. The owner makes a killing on the sole day open but sells out quickly no matter how many batches he prepares throughout the days it is closed. Johnny had wanted a taste of one but more importantly, his girlfriend wanted one to eat on her own.
She was a chubby faced girl from overseas, specifically Sinnoh, and loved the Unova weather as it was so much warmer here than where she was from. She loved to flounce around with an ice-cream in hand as it was so much better doing it here than back home. Johnny didn't really care. If she was happy, he was happy. He was more than fine enough going along with her selfish whims since she was going along with his as well.
She tugged on his arm and pouted. Her hair pulled in a tight ponytail bounced around. She looked so cute like that. Cute enough to put up with all her crap.
They had stood together in line for the Castelia Cone ice-cream stand. It felt like half the street was packed this fine mid-afternoon Tuesday. As time went on, patience thinned. She kept begging Johnny to do something, anything, to speed the line up. He didn't know what to say. He had tried be a coward and get away before anything bad happened.
'Let's come back another day.'
He had tried to reason with her. He didn't want ice-cream that badly but, apparently, she did.
'Whaaaaat?' She pushed on his shoulder playfully; nudged him towards the front of the line. 'C'mon, you're famous, work that charm.
She whined like a chainsaw. It was enough to get on anyone's nerves but Johnny was so worn down with it and his own egotism, that he let it. He shrugged her off and hooked his arm around her shoulder. She smiled like the Meowth that got the cream and snuggled in tight.
As a couple, they waltzed over to the front of the line. They were luckily the manager had his head turned since he was grabbing more cones. He barged in and they slotted into the front. At first, no one noticed but behind them, some dweeby adolescent looked up from his newspaper and was offended that someone would cut in when he had clearly staked first place in the line.
The dweeb cautiously tapped Johnny's shoulder and mustered a weepy voice.
Johnny turned his head and glared. He waited for this cowardly bugger to try and be the just man in the situation.
'Th-The line… The line, um, starts right here, uh.' he sheepishly informed Johnny.
'Yeah, so?' Johnny replied, without care and in a low and bored voice. He dared this lad to cross him.
He was taller and bigger and had more money and power and status over some random wimp.
'I - I've been wait-waiting here, um, since this morning.' he insisted. He flung his arm back and pointed. 'Please - Please, um, wait at the end of the line.'
Johnny rolled his eyes and swaggered around. He grabbed the youth by his collar and almost lifted him off his feet. He whimpered and clenched his eyes. Squirmed.
'Shut up! I don't care!' Johnny yelled and he yelled a few other, more heartless things.
He dropped the kid to his feet. He was on the verge of tears. Johnny whipped around and brought out some cash money from his clothes. He waved in front of the manager's face. The man had finally gotten ready for his next wave of customers and already, he was having issues. Johnny smacked his hand over the counter.
'I've bought my place in line, haven't I? Now serve my girlfriend and me.' he demanded.
The kid backed off. A few steps back. No one wanted to mess with Johnny.
'Yay, now we can buy our Castelia Cones!' his girlfriend celebrated, as though oblivious to how cold and cruel Johnny had sounded.
'Yeah, order up.' Johnny said. His voice was hoarse.
What happened next couldn't have been predicted. Not by him. Not by his girlfriend or the manager of the ice-cream stand or anyone in line. Not even by him.
Johnny half-stepped out of the way so his girlfriend could access the counter. It was lucky that he did. He glanced over his shoulder. That twerp was still here. Irrational anger surged through him.
'Fuck off, you persistent bugger!' he barked.
Johnny turned his head. He let his body slacken. He heard the kid whimper. Nothing to note or be afraid of. Then he heard the click of a pistol being taken off safety. After that… a gunshot.
His body froze. At first, there was no pain. He was too numb to feel pain. But then he felt some sort of liquid drip down his side. He turned around. The kid was crying. In his trembling hands, he wielded a flighty and old model flintlock pistol. At first, Johnny didn't connect these two facts. At least not until he placed his hand above his hip and he felt around. Nothing, at first, until he drew back. He quaked in his dirty boots as he forced himself to look down.
'Johnny!' his girlfriend shrieked. She dropped her ice-cream on the cement.
His stomach wretched and eyes widened. Blood, slick and bright, coloured his fingertips and slid down his hands. His heart pounded in his ears. Time seemed out of synch with what was happening. He heard someone scream and then someone else. But no one's mouths were moving.
Then… it finally sank in…
'What the hell did you do?' Johnny yelled.
He blacked out after that. His knees went weak and he dropped to the cement. The side of his face roughed up as his nose smashed against the ground. The dropped ice-cream melted towards him. He couldn't believe it. All of this over a fucking ice-cream cone. He wanted laugh as his mind went blank. He had heard rumours of some people being crazy enough to kill for a Castelia Cone. He didn't think they were true though.
His eyes fluttered closed. He honestly thought he was going to die there. On that grimey Castelia City street corner. Some days, he would wish he had.
When he came to, it was God knows how long later. As his eyes opened. He had clean forgotten the events that had led up to this. He felt as heavy as lead and dizzy. He was confused but that soon gave way to panic.
As his eyes arced over the high, wooden ceilings of the hospital, he forced himself to turn his head. The pillow was lumpy beneath his face. A few beds over there was a man without arms. He looked lifeless as he slept. Soon, Johnny realised that there were a fair few people in this room and all were in the same, chopped up state. His stomach turned to stone as he grew increasingly ware of his surroundings.
Johnny's breaths were quick to turn ragged with panic. His nose twitched. He had a neck brace on and given how he could feel his sheets on his back, he realised he was basically naked. He was bandaged up around the mid-section with some sort of loincloth-like piece of fabric covering up his genitals.
'N-Nurse?' his voice was weak at first but as he continued to panic, his voice grew louder. 'Nurse! It stinks in here! Positively reeks! Why aren't you answering me?'
His eyes moistened and he realised something feral. He didn't want to hear himself say it but maybe, just maybe, saying it out loud would draw some attention from the nurse to himself.
'I-I'm soiling myself. C-Can't you hear me? I said I'm soiling myself!'
His voice cracked. Tears streamed from his eyes. It was humiliating. He wasn't a baby. He was an adult. He deserved to be treated as such. He most definitely did not feel as such.
Johnny turned his head slightly once more. Out the corner of his eye was a bulbous man in a grey uniform. He was sitting down in the corner, legs crossed upon a wooden chair, as he read a newspaper. Johnny hoped to any divinity that could hear him that was the nurse. To make sure, he continued to yell and panic as tears streaked his cheeks.
'Nurse! Nurse! Do your job! Take care of this immediately!' Johnny yelled.
The man shifted. The newspaper fluttered. Besides that, there was almost no reaction.
Johnny wiggled his fingers. He was thankful they still had feeling because most his body honestly felt like deadweight. He tried to lift his head. He tried to wiggle his toes. He was successful in one of those pursuits.
As Johnny lifted his head, he saw that something was attached to his leg. It was some sort of tube and it was filled with blood. A container stood by his metallic and uncomfortable cot. Something about watching that tube drain him made panic rile up inside of him and his voice hit the maximum volume that it could reach. He tried to jerk it away from himself but it was like his legs were made of stone.
'Something's stuck to my leg! What is that?' he shrieked.
The nurse finally got to his heavy feet. He lumbered over and threw the newspaper in Johnny's alone was enough to cause Johnny's nose to bleed. He attempted to smother him with a snarl across his ogre-like face.
'Shut the hell up, genius jockey.' he drawled slowly. 'You'll wake up the other patients.'
Johnny struggled against the nurse who continued to smother him. His voice was completely drowned out against the paper. It bloodied quickly. He was too weak to leave anything but faint scratches on the nurse's thick arms.
'We don't get enough blood donors so shut the fuck up. S'not like you can feel anythin' beneath the waist.'
The nurse continued to lean down on Johnny. A great weight was pressed upon Johnny's fragile chest. Johnny turned his head and gasped in fresh air; even if it did reek. He took shallow breaths. He was petrified.
'Hey, lemme tell ya somethin', yer father hasn't even visited ya politician friends? Fuck, your girlfriend? None of 'em have visited ya yet, ya worthless piece of shit.' He chuckled. 'Maybe if you had paralysed yourself in a race, they woulda visited but nah. It's cuz you were messin' 'round with some fugly girl.'
The nurse grabbed Johnny's head and squished in his cheeks. He forced Johnny to look him in the eye. The newspaper half slid down onto the cot.
'Nobody wants to see yer mug anymore. Nobody feels sorry for you; yer just a burden. That woman of yours is probably messin' 'round with some other bloke.'
The nurse stuffed the newspaper down Johnny's throat. It tasted foul and of blood and sweat. The weak paper melted in his mouth. Johnny attempted to protest but it was down his neck a tad too far. Twisted around, he could see the headline on the front page.
"Steel Ball Run Race", it read.