A/N: Just warning you guys ahead of time, this chapter is kind of a downer. Don't say I didn't warn you~!
Chapter 8: Ready or Not!
Philip had grown stronger on a surprisingly fast rate over the last few days. Grandpa Shelmet was very proud of his grandson, and was glad that he could teach his skills to him during what he believed were his last moments. He felt fine, but he didn't think he would live much longer; he can feel it. But of course, he didn't tell Philip about it, for he would worry him and distract him from reaching and achieving his goal.
One late afternoon, Philip just got out from a nice hot shower after some rigorous training. He dried himself, noticing how he had gained a good amount of muscle as he posed in front of the bathroom mirror. He felt stronger and more agile than ever. He also thinks he grew a bit taller over time as well.
After drying himself up, he went out to the front patio where Grandpa Shelmet was waiting for him with some tea. Grandpa Shelmet poured some in his cup. Then they sat there, enjoying the view from a very high point. The mountain where the old Shelmet resides is the tallest point in town. The grandfather and grandson were caught up in their own thoughts, at the same time watching how the sun had gracefully set behind the hills. Grandpa Shelmet in particular worried a bit more about his health, and at the moment was conflicted in telling Philip about it.
Philip then sensed his grandfather's mood shift and looked at him to see what was the matter. Grandpa Shelmet was expecting his grandson's worried gaze to look at his own and question it, so he, too, slowly looked up into his face.
"What's wrong?" Philip asked.
Grandpa Shelmet looked for some sort of indirect response before he replied. "Philip," he began, "If anything ever happens to me soon, I want you to promise something."
This caught Philip's attention as his expression changed to surprise. "What is it?" he asked, not sure where this was going and not liking it either.
Grandpa Shelmet shifted his position to fully face his grandson. "When I die, I want you to remove my body from my shell and bury it in the middle of the field before us with the most beautiful white flower you can find."
Philip was shocked; he didn't want to hear any more of this, but he kept on listening.
"I also want you to keep my shell. I want you to inherit it and use it in times of need. My shell may be quite old and fragile, but it is very powerful and has the ability to make you evolve once you wear it. You can revert back to your original form anytime when you mentally say 'Karrablast' three times in a row."
Grandpa Shelmet understood Philip's shock. "I know it is a lot to take in, Philip," he continued, "but we have to face the harsh reality. We both know that I am an old Shelmet ready to leave this world anytime soon, so we might as well talk about this." Philip nodded, feeling tears building up in his eyes.
Grandpa Shelmet turned and faced the field before him and sighed. "Now let us finish our tea," he said casually. Philip tasted it differently now, for his grandfather's words made his mouth bitter.
A few minutes later, they were both done and headed back inside the dojo. Philip stopped his grandpa for a moment. "Thank you so much for training me. There's no better teacher than you."
"Of course," Grandpa Shelmet said with a wrinkly smile. "It has been an honor to teach karate one more time."
Philip felt a wave of emotion crash into him as he hugged his grandfather tightly. "I love you, grandpa," he told him, his voice a bit shaky. Grandpa Shelmet snuggled back warmly. "I know," he replied. Once they broke free from the heartwarming hug, they wished each other a good night and went their separate ways into their rooms. The night was very peaceful, with a full moon shining, and the sound of Kricketot and Kricketune playing melodies in the night.
Another warm day was brought to the awakening townspeople. A ray of sunlight snuck in to Philip's window, landing directly on his face. With a bit of struggle he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He stretched his tiny arms out as he let out a big long yawn. He got up and walked towards the kitchen. He didn't see his grandfather in the kitchen yet, which was strange because he would usually be there first. He's probably tired, that's all, Philip thought.
He served himself some scrambled eggs with a side of bacon and a glass of milk. He sat and ate there, thinking about his grandfather's words from the night before. He has seen him full of life the last few days… or that's what he thought. He recalled what he thought Grandpa Shelmet coughing repeatedly one night, but he dismissed it and thought it was a loud and disruptive Timburr or something.
A few minutes later, he was done with his breakfast, and yet his grandfather hasn't shown up yet. Now he was getting really worried. It was not like him to be sleeping in at this time; he was known to be an early bird. Philip was about to go check on him, when he thought of the possibility that his grandfather might be meditating. He decided to wait for a bit longer, until suddenly he heard uncontrollable coughing coming from his grandpa's room.
Quickly, he bursted in and found Grandpa Shelmet still in bed, looking very pale as he continued to cough. Philip rushed to his side, panicking and not knowing what to do. He looked at his grandfather's face, looking for a sign to tell him what to do, or at least to tell him that he was going to be okay.
Grandpa Shelmet struggled to look at his scared grandson. In between coughs, he told him something. Philip tried to understand him, but he couldn't. He struggled to hear him one more time.
"The… th- the… pr- pro- pro- pro… promise…"
After that, he took his final breath and died right before Philip's eyes. Philip couldn't believe it; he was gone. He was out of his shell of a body. For good, so it seems. Philip couldn't hold his tears back any longer and wept with feeling, kneeling next to his grandfather's bed. He was crying uncontrollably, his tears never seeming to stop anytime soon.
After a few moments he somehow managed to recollect most of himself as best as he could and remembered the promise he had sworn to keep. He got up, trembling as he proceeded to get his grandfather out of his delicate shell. He felt cold and lifeless, his pink slimy skin rubbing against Philip's tough blue one. He carefully carried him outside and proceeded to dig a hole.
Moments later, Grandpa Shelmet was now underground. Philip couldn't and didn't want to believe what he just did, but he knew he wasn't done yet. He looked around for a white flower – specifically a beautiful one. He then spotted one single white flower planted in a small pot on the porch. He felt that this one had to be it and carefully dug it out and placed it on top of Grandpa Shelmet's burial spot. He stepped back and stared at it, not wanting to believe any of this. His grandfather was the best, and was practically his only relative, since his cousins never kept in touch with him.
He stood there like a zombie, not knowing what to do for a long time. He then felt tears flowing down his cheeks once again and began to wail, not caring if anyone heard. He had never cried this much ever since his parents passed away.
Moments passed, and Philip was just tired of crying but couldn't stop. His throat ached from screaming and crying, and his eyes were very red and swollen. It took a long time for him to calm down. Once he did, it began to rain, but stayed out a bit longer before he went inside.
What was he going to do now? He didn't know at the moment. His mind was clouded with images of his grandpa dying in front of him. He could have prevented it, he thought, but he also thought how he was supposed to do that. He sat on the kitchen table, not wanting to do anything else but to have his grandpa back.
"Why do bad things happen to the people I care about…" he said slowly as he stared emotionless at the kitchen table. He rubbed his face, trying not to feel all that melancholy anymore, but it was just inevitable.
Nighttime came, and it was still raining. Philip thought it over and over until he came to the conclusion that the time came to leave the dojo. He didn't want to, but he knew he was more than ready to carry on his purpose. He packed up his things and carefully held the shell he inherited. He stepped outside and slowly approached his grandfather's grave one last time. "Thank you," he told him, and proceeded on the long way home.
The walk down the tall mountain was a bit longer than he expected. Fifteen minutes later, he arrived in front of the park. It was cold and very quiet. Everyone was asleep, and Philip's tiny steps echoed throughout the whole place. His house was not that far, so he'll get there in no time.
Philip doesn't know if either John or Amelia have been checking on his house, and wondered how business has been, with Mateo making all the jewelry and John handling the business all by himself. He then realized that he missed it here. He forgot how long he stayed at his grandfather's dojo.
Finally, he got to his house safe and sound and went inside to find the place exactly how he had left it, pancake smell and everything. He dropped his backpack on a nearby couch, truly exhausted from the hike down. He looked around for a spot to place the shell, and decided on the little desk he has in his room. He went to his room and dusted off the desk and carefully placed the shell on it. He looked at it and wondered how it had the ability to evolve him and back whenever he wanted. He decided not to think about it anymore for today and crawled on his bed and immediately went to sleep.