Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon, or any of its affiliated companies. The characters in this work are all loosely based on those created by Pokemon and its companies, and this story will never by no means be used to make monetary profit or gain.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Fractured:
Lavender, a small isolated town on the east coast of Indigo, arguably the safest, securest place in the whole country to live in.
Which also made it a bitch to travel to.
The town did have a small shoreline to its south, but the rough waves and jagged rocks protruding from the sea bottom made it impossible for ships to approach. The weather was almost always windy and rainy, with a high likelihood of storms and hurricanes, so even before Lance's reign the city had been declared a no-fly zone. And both shadowing and porting were impossible due to the city's silent "guardian angels".
I meant the wild ghost, psychic, and dark types of course.
What did these three types all have in common that drew them all to Lavender? Not a question easily answered by science, but, where science failed, religion and legends-
The northern winds blow strong. Near, nearer, the waters sing their king's presence, and I know it's behind me, dare I look? Hidden behind a mane of polar lights, the twin white tails reach, they connect, and they, and they-
"Everything all right?"
Startled, I realized my outreached hand was trembling.
Pikachu growled worriedly.
Luckily, the salesperson assumed my anxiety came from the price tag. "Look kid, I'll be honest with you, I don't think the Aggronator 430 is the model you want to go with – this here's a pro mountain bike, best used for them hills and caves around Pewter. Durable, sure, but," He nodded towards Pikachu, "I doubt a guy like you will find the speed satisfying. You'll quickly regret riding her in Cerulean's streets."
"Instead," He gestured towards a sleeker, smaller bike. "Can I interest you in the Explodtrode 360? This gal's been tested against an actual ninjask, and fared really better than expected, lost only by a thirty-three percent margin at the end of a hundre-"
I rang the bell on the Aggronator 430. The shrill, loud sound cut his explanations short.
He squinted his eyes. "Your money."
Half an hour and a few adjustments later, for the first time since Viridian Forest - Arceus, it had been near five months since those days - I was once again on bike, calmly riding through the narrow and crowded streets of Cerulean, enjoying for possibly the last time the view the many fresh water canals dividing the city offered. Pikachu, without the slightest hint of over exasperation, paced himself next to me. The salesperson had been right, it was obvious this bike was not the best for comfortable, daily usage within the city; if he wanted to, Pikachu could overtake me in a second on the smooth terrain Cerulean offered.
Then again, the road ahead of us would be anything but smooth.
Like Pewter, Lavender was an isolated town. Flight and sea travel to the city was impossible, as was shadowing and porting; the high concentration of wild psionic and dark species inhabiting the land built a too impenetrable astral defense plane. The easiest way to reach the city was to port or fly as near as the city's natural defenses allowed to the edge of route K08 east of Saffron, and then simply walk the rest of the route until the town gates were in sight.
Of course, there was also always the hard way.
I hit the brakes over a small bridge when I saw Cerulean's eastern gate just ahead. I knew behind the gate lay routes K09 and K10, where at the end of the latter was Kanto's sea waves power plant located. But between the power plant and the intersection point of the two routes, my dexmap showed a small cave entrance; a moderately dangerous zone full of many beta and low-alpha tier pokemon, a place attractive to high amounts of a certain type of pokemon, so much that the cavern was surrounded in perpetual darkness, incapable of being penetrated by any means of artificial light.
Rock Tunnel.
I took a moment to glance back towards the city I was leaving behind; though not an overly sentimental person, to say this city hadn't left the most impact on me throughout my journey would be outright lying. Cerulean was, with her colorful street lights and canals, by far the most beautiful city I had ever seen and coincidentally, had been the one where I had made many first memories. This was where I had first met Callidora, first met Dante, heck, even first met Paul. This was where I had won against the first gym leader who had gone all out, without any underestimation of my skills. This was where I had battled Blue officially for the first time and, heh, had afterwards my first bar fight. And though less pleasant experiences, this was where I had survived a trial and landed my first real clues against the rockets.
I swallowed. This was also the place where I had first met Melanie.
Pikachu slowly nudged his nose against my leg.
"Yeah, yeah, buddy," I muttered. "Give me a second."
Knowing fully well it was unrealistic, I couldn't help but follow the flowing water underneath me with my eyes, tracing the paths and curves it took, and wondered if it at some point it would pass near Melanie's hideout. I imagined what she would be doing right now had she been free; would she be risking a tour of the city with her oddish and sandshrew, or would the heavy hanging drapes be shielding her day-time sleep, or, perhaps, would we, would she and I still be together, underneath the dusty drabs and holed sheets she owned, and-
A tremor in the water distracted me from my thoughts. Small ripples formed, and out jumped a goldeen, which to my surprise, did not have the regular orange and white color scheme seen in its species, but a brighter, gold colored pattern. I didn't have much time to register any other irregularities though, after a quick flick of its tail, it had dived deep again and disappeared.
I grinned. If this was not the simplest, most worthy sendoff a city could offer to one man, one trainer, then I didn't know what was. Once again prepared for the road ahead of me, I turned my gaze towards the city gates near. A quick final flashback of the memories I had acquired here rushed my mind; Pikachu jumping around Blue's starter and pinning her down, advancing us to the round ahead, the drinks we had after, the night when I accepted Callidora as min-
It comes on the water, through the water, of the water. A thousand bells chiming in the wind, the air, the land, screaming its name. Indominable, unmistakable glory felt in its presence; undeniable, inevitable fear at its sight. Its name as clear as the purified path it leaves behind, the emissary hound Suic-
"Gaah!"
Looking down, I saw Pikachu biting down on my fight. Bored with his master's antics, he was itching on driving me forwards.
"Okay, okay," I said as bravely as I could. "Let's go."
And as I hit the pedals forwards, I felt a sudden chill, a shadow so immense falling upon me that I had to turn my head back a second just to confirm it was indeed imaginary. Naturally, nothing was there, and the rational part of my mind was affirming my belief that these visions, these dreams were only the aftereffects, the post-traumatic reactions my body was showing against that fiasco of a mindspection, and would pass with time, that they were nothing to worry about. And I knew this; my mind, body, and soul, they all knew this.
But they, I, also knew, no matter how hard I tried reassuring myself, the icky steps of doubt had crawled right in my psyche's palace.
And what is doubt, if not, a small thought in my head formed I desperately tried silencing, the first step towards delusion?
What is doubt indeed, if not a prerequisite for insanity?
))(())((
I had to give Trainer Atana his due; he had not shirked from the battle on account of the type disadvantage his sandslash faced against Callidora.
Probably because he knew that was the only advantage Callidora had.
"Get her Golin!"
The ground pokemon snarled and lunged at my ivysaur; his larger size and long, sharp claws capable of piercing through even a graveler's rocky skin gave the pokemon a significant advantage in reach. I didn't even bother warning Callidora to dodge them, she wasn't stupid enough to stay in range. A quick side step, and the sandslash now occupied the empty space where my ivysaur just was; his claws had missed their target greatly.
He growled, and by the time the heavier, armored pokemon turned and realigned himself with his target, Callidora had already launched her counter: Thick thorny vines extended, cracking dangerously like whips through the air, they aimed to bind Golin helpless but… in place of the beast was now a spiked ball, the perfect defensive form. Callidora's vines couldn't get through the thick hide of the curled up sandslash, and I knew leech seeds would be useless against a spherical opponent capable of rolling and shaking them off.
"Double or nothing on the slash!"
"Wanna increase on the saur?"
"Ten minutes past; no knockout. Pay up!"
"Write down another five, no winner."
"Knockout by fatigue on the twenty-minute mark!"
"The saur wins by spores, hundred creds."
Least the crowd's enjoying the show.
Easily the longest natural route in Kanto, K09, also dubbed the Trainer's Haven, had long been an attraction for all trainers devoid of a steady income. Trainers who opted not to continue their career in the military, police force, I.R.O., or league really didn't have much choice of an earning; they could either try their chances in the private industry as security guards or live year to year by the prizes gyms offered – if they ever could win against any leaders. The first was a dead-end job in a highly competitive arena, and the second was both risky and a short-termed solution. Neither understandably highly desirable.
Which brought us to our third option: Gambling.
Well, gambling was probably a too strong and immoral definition that also included the "by chance" factor. What these trainers actually did was far from it; they were capitalizing on an open market. There existed many trainers lacking "real" jobs and in need of an income, so, years ago, a group of opportunistic trainers thought of bringing these people together and organizing a tournament: An easy-going, laid back one, a small scaled league challenge if you would, where killing was not allowed. All that was required was a small entrance fee, about as half as one would pay for a gym challenge, and suddenly trainers were presented with the chance of making some cash by battling people equally or less talented.
The location of the first tournament was route K09. An isolated road that led nowhere; its calm weather, lazy river flowing next to the road, and forests and hills to the north provided the perfect place for all trainer types to sharpen and build their battle strategies. The first tournament was a huge success; the winners had increased their wealth, and the losers had gained valuable battling experience at a far less cost than what a gym challenge would take. A second one was quickly arranged within the same year, then a third, fourth and so on…
Today the tournament style battle system had outgrown itself; and route K09 had become a place for all kinds of battles between all kinds of trainers, regardless of their badge numbers or talent. The essential two rules remained: Everything was for money, and no killing. Hence the entirety of the road was covered in groups of trainers battling in single, double, triple, or royale format between each other, with even more trainers spectating and betting on the outcomes. A small hierarchy was visible, the battles between lesser skilled trainers took place closer to Cerulean's gates, whereas those between six, seven badgers were held further east, but otherwise, route K09 was one of the safest places for trainers to hone their skills by battling equals in a sportily fashion.
The one downside of the Trainer's Haven was it promoted stagnancy. This was indeed the perfect and easiest place for trainers to win money, but those too lazy and without ambition tended to settle. In my opinion, the route was best for trainers who had earned their first two badges via studying at gyms and sought real life battling experience before challenging leaders; not for those compliant enough to spend their entire life here earning easy cash and spending it quickly, repeating an endless cycle.
And judging from Trainer Atana and his sandslash Golin's skills, he belonged to the latter group.
The first clue was he did not fear my name or badge numbers as the rookie trainers at this part of the route did. The second was he did not seem to fall for the type advantage mistake. He realized just because I was using a grass type and he a ground type the win was not automatically mine; in a usual, equal matchup between the two species, the grass type had the advantages of mobility and recovery, and the capability of performing surgical strikes against most ground types' soft belly armor with their fast-extending, flexible vines. Plus, leech seeds and mixed powders made it most often certain a grass type would win the battle of attrition.
But Atana's pokemon was a sandslash. A distant cousin to the pikachu and rattata lines, he was quicker on his feet than most ground types. He also had an incredible defensive capability by curling up and covering his weak underbelly completely, and still be mobile in that state. And the fact that we were not battling in a large league approved arena with the suitable field measurements but instead between a smaller circle of spectating trainers leaving just enough space for the two beasts to battle also added to the mouse pokemon's many advantages.
Him considering all of these factors proved Atana was an experienced battler, just one too lazy or fearful for official matches. I would probably put him at about a two-badger level if he had any, but no, here was a trainer too afraid to break his own self-established status quo.
Which probably means he doesn't like taking risks, but loves opportunities, I thought as Callidora dodged and countered the sandslash's advance again to no avail. So let's give him one.
A click of my tongue followed a short whistle. Bait.
Golin the sandslash had once again uncurled himself and was seeking an opening to lunge, which Callidora suddenly gave. So superb was her acting; if I didn't know she was acting on my orders I would have hundred percent believed her. Her left foreleg tripped over a mound of dirt, and even though it only took a second for her to regain balance, her momentary distraction was enough for the sandslash to strike. The twenty or so watching trainers gasped as Golin dug his clawed feet into the ground for a steady foothold and jumped. Too fast was the attack and Callidora seemed too unprepared, a victorious snarl escaped the sandslash's mouth midair when…
A cloud of spores burst out of my ivysaur's bud. So far during the battle Golin had successfully avoided inhaling the various powders Callidora secreted, but midair, in the middle of an attack, he didn't have the time to curl and shield his mouth. The powders exploded colorfully on his face, and Golin hit the ground with a crash, rolling over and exposing his belly, with a greenish smudge visible near his snout and while lightly snoring. Defenseless as his pokemon was currently, Trainer Atana found no sense in continuing the battle and recalled the pokemon.
Victory wasn't consequence-free though. While the spectators applauded and exchanged owed money, I knelt next to Callidora, examining the fore-foot she was trying to hide. I pulled her leg in front of me, realizing one of the sandslash's claws had made contact and broken with the impact, and was now stuck in my ivysaur's foot. She whimpered when I touched around the wound, but I ignored her and pulled the claw free. A cry escaped her, and she instinctively lashed out with a vine, but I was done with my examination, as expected, nothing was fatal. Her grass type body would heal the injury quickly with help of the sunny climate at this part of Indigo; at worst she would suffer from a few days' worth of limping.
As I reached to my bag to rub some mixed oran-sitrus berry ointment on the wound, movement in the flowing river near the road caught my eye. My pulse raced, too fast had the figure moved that I wasn't even sure if I had actually seen it, but unless I was mistaken, unless I was insane, then, then the body was blue, and had white marks all over, which meant, which could only mean-
A pokemon was walking on water, one I saw only in children's story books. It traveled on four legs and was blue with white diamond shaped patter-
"Damn," I heard Trainer Atana approach me from behind. "Did you knowingly allow your mon to take that hit just to win?"
I said nothing but stood and extended my hand, waiting for him to pay up.
He did so with a shrug. "Cold, dude," he said as he dropped a bundle of cash into my hand. "Cold."
))(())((
Cold.
The campfire Dante lit against the dark was unnecessary under the bight, starry sky, but still provided a place to stare and organize my thoughts. The first of the many nights I would spend on this route; provided I kept with the strict training regimen I applied to each of my pokemon and limited the many possible battles to five a day, one each for every pokemon I owned, it would still take near a week and a half on the Aggronator to reach route K10. And afterwards there was still Rock Tunnel, where my bike would be really put to test.
Cold.
What did he know, of all people, about sacrifice? About battle, about victory? About the cost needed to be paid in blood, sweat, and tears to achieve greatness?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
And was I not Pokemon Trainer Red, the record-breaking, most promising rookie trainer of this generation? Three badges I had won; all through combat. Not one was through listening to the theoretical lectures given by leaders and aides at gyms, not one was through following the practical instructions given by men called leaders when they were less, oh yes, definitely less, than myself, for if they were more, how could they had fallen by my hand? Had I not felled Brock's pinnacle of monstrous strength with a mere pikachu, a species of elemental powers his beast was supposedly immune towards? Had I not ripped the many arms of Misty's arsenal one by one, with the help of a monster type she was supposedly an authority of? And had I not laughed at the face of Surge's many years' worth of experience, had I not forced him to retreat in a battlefield of his choosing, in the only combat style his own rules allowed, the only combat style he had practiced and prepared for, at my first try?
Cold.
A sudden unease tugged at my heart as I watched my pokemon sleeping around the fire; more and more each day was I letting them roam free because I had forgotten to mend their pokeballs before leaving Cerulean in my haste to catch up to Jessie. Their peaceful, asleep faces made me confront perhaps an alternative version of those memories; had I not won against Brock because I had seen absolutely no error in pitting a pikachu of all mons against an onix? Had I not won against Misty because Paul had survived the punishment Roulette had dealt, and Callidora had barely found the time to secretly land some seeds before a telekinetic blast had crushed her bones? And had I not won against Surge only because Dante had run for his life from the pursuing electrivire after my foolish order to make him scout the enemy, had I not won only because Pikachu had barely made it in the nick of time before Superbia had found a chance to electrocute Callidora?
Had I not won only because of luck and my ignorance towards my pokemon's limits?
Cold.
This time I definitely saw them. I jumped to my feet and chased, and without knowing I was already half my waist deep in the flowing water of the river, but I was too late.
The eyes were already gone.
But the memory of the body they were attached to remained.
Blue and white colored.
I had just seen Sui-
"NO!"
I bit my tongue and tried focusing. Dante's fire was still visible near the riverbed, and I half-waddled half-swam my way back to my makeshift camp. My pokemon were all still asleep, except for Dante and Pikachu; their senses of smell and hearing superior to the others, they both opened their eyes wide at the sight of cold water dripping down my body.
"It's nothing," I mouthed not to wake the others. "Go back to sleep."
Not entirely convinced, they both obeyed, and I huddled closer to our campfire, trying to warm and dry myself.
Cold.
I felt the anger I had towards Trainer Atana return. What did he know about training, about battling, at all? He was just a washed up, ambitionless, drifting trainer, for whom the only meaning the word purpose had was winning the night's drinking money. He was a regular mareep, content with spending his life between Cerulean and K09, living day by day through immoral gambling, leeching on trainers less talented than himself; but today, today I had shown him, today I had put an end to his scheming life plans, for I was Red, Trainer Red, Champion Red-
That is my name, yes. Champion Red. That is what I am, who I am. I am above the crowd of human shaped barriers fighting eternally against personal growth, for I am the pursuit of perfection manifested itself, the best, the superior; and the ramblings of lesser are not only ignorable, but also boring and unentertaining. And for that I isolate myself from them, for that I do not gift them with conversation.
Yes, I thought, dry now enough to try and sleep. I am Champion Red. And what matters the opinions of others- no, those lesser, when compared to mine?
I lay to my right, facing the river, but turned abruptly to my other side when I saw, I thought I saw, no, I imagined a pair of eyes staring even if, no, definitely- even though the pair was definitely imaginary, fear still gripped my heart, the vision of my pokemon sleeping in a circle around me blackened, and with no other choice for relief, I held close to the one thought shielding me from the horrors of the night.
I am Champion Red. I am better.
I am Champion Red. I am better.
I am Champion Red.
I am better.
))(())((
"Will's officially resigned, you hear?"
"Man, they still couldn't get those two snorlax."
"Hey, up for a trade? Corphish for the yanma?"
"This Oak kid, did you see the bounty he collected?"
Too much noise…
Our fifth day on the route, we were going faster than I had expected, but as we moved further, so did the density of trainers increase; everywhere there were battles and gambles and trades going on, and more than anything else, just simple idle chitchat, making it increasingly difficult to focus on training…
So sleepy.
"I heard, what was it, family of three?"
"From the Alph ruins, right? Insane!"
"Anyone seen my wacan berries?
Soooo sleepy. Must. Sleep.
Pikachu was still going strong, running along the bike increased his stamina. His discharge output was at a never seen best, he won all the battles I put him in; every supposedly physically superior pokemon had fallen at once when an unexpected fully charged tackle hit them in the stomach. Machoke, sudowoodo, lickitung… All their trainers had gambled strength and size would be enough, all had lost.
Can't.
Yet he was more aggressive than normal. His thunderbolts were far too powerful than needed in mock battles, almost every fight he was in, he aimed to kill, which was a serious sin in these parts. Only barely could I restrain him, and each time I saw him become angrier and angrier. And what made it worse was the others' presence.
Those eyes.
"Double battle team up, anyone? Pays double!"
"Eaten. They've now tasted man meat, never a good thing for wild mons."
"Rumor is Koga's up for the spot…"
Those eyes. On the water. In the dark.
I needed to release the others more and more from their pokeballs, overheating was becoming a problem. My prison experience was not just my prison experience, it was also weeks of pokemon being held captive in pokeballs not designed for the task; pokemon needed to be released from time to time or the liquid energy form of the monster would struggle to break free, causing irreparable, permanent damage on the ball.
And so Callidora was released more often than needed, as was Dante, Paul, and Silk. And to keep them from bickering between each other, I always put them up to training or battles, and constant control required constant focus which I did not have because-
So sleepy.
And Callidora was blossoming, her size was easily doubling in a noticeable rate. The sunshine and ever-flowing freshwater river gave her all the healthy, organic nutrition needed, and constant combat built her muscles strong. The tip of her bud reached my chin, her limping from three days past was almost unnoticeable, yet she seemed unusually reserved, silent. And I couldn't shake the feeling of being observed, that she was worrying over me, that the pokemon was worrying over the trainer.
Those eyes. Always, always there. Watching. Every night.
Keeping me awake.
"I swear they were right there!"
"Lance put Bruno on the trail though, they say he can track even clefairy…"
"A few days walk ahead, huge battle royale near K10!"
Eyes came with the body. Blue and white. Barely visible through the flames.
Unlike Pikachu and Callidora, Dante did not have a perfect battle record with trainers, but he too was improving, learning at a frightening rate. Loyal to a fault, he took punishment like no other pokemon of mine, my opponents' mouths dropped at the sight of the incredible, impossible damage he tanked. He had no recovery like Callidora, no damage output like Pikachu, yet he held his ground against the likes of gliscor and donphan. More often than not he lost, horribly. He ended each day with scars likely to remain permanent, but Arceus, every battle was a chance at regaining that forgotten predatory instinct, that fluid reptilian movements of a hunter lost to drug abuse, and I could feel we were close, so close, in mining the full potential Dante could offer and bringing it to light.
But he was hurt, hurting. I could see it, yet had no solution, his soul was set on the path of proving this trainer of his right in keeping him, in giving him a chance, and he would rather die than disappoint me. I watched as his soul's purpose pushed him dangerously close to the upper limit of his body's tolerance, and couldn't help but wonder: What would happen when he exceeded it? Would the body, unable to keep up with the desperate need of approval it contained, simply collapse and move no more? Admittedly, I could put a stop to this, refrain from training and battling him against stronger opponents, but I was just-
So tired.
"Heard there's a minimum five badge limit though…"
"Poffins, get your poffins here!"
"Hey, do you see that?"
"Hey, hey man, stop that!"
I just want to sleep.
Can't.
Mind blurry…
Having Paul out was the worst drag of all; he slowed our movement speed immeasurably and had nothing special to offer in battles or training. Now surrounded by other trainers, I could see even his trick room capabilities were below average; just the last day I watched a bronzor build one at half his speed and twice the duration. I had long stopped using him for psychic attack training on the others, they all had grown far superior mental defenses compared to Paul's offensive capabilities, all except…
Silk.
The only thing my persian was good for was hunting rattata. She did not listen to any command, refused to follow any strategy, and acted only slightly better than a completely wild pokemon; if not for my stubborn conviction that I needed to train at least one fully wild pokemon throughout my journey, I would have long released her. Nothing I put into her seemed to last, and what was worse, now that she was more out of her ball than usual, she was driving Pikachu insane; even though Pikachu's mutations put him at almost the same size as the classy cat pokemon, the instinctual weariness he felt remained, a weariness resurfaced each time Silk brought back prey in wild rattata or sandshrew.
And then she one day she brought a pikachu.
Tired.
"STOP IT!"
Wait, is this happening now?
Multiple trainers rushed to our side where we were training, and many pokemon, ground type most of them, jumped on the action. Pikachu dodged and dodged, but they outnumbered him, yet he had already sent too many bolts before the rhyhorn, marshtomp, and vibrava got ahold of him.
"Dude, what is wrong with you?"
What?
Through half blurry eyes, I finally registered the scene in front of me in its entirety.
Silk the persian, electrocuted to death by Pikachu's thunderbolts.
Silk, my persian, killed by Pikachu, my starter.
"What the fuck happened?"
"Do you see that, do you see that!?"
"Pretty brutal shit mate."
People were pointing and gathering, yet I could only see the corpse of my pokemon.
A pokemon of mine had killed another.
And all I could feel was-
Tired.
"Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
))(())((
What in Arceus' name are you doing, Reddy boy?
This was not "The Champion" talking, I noticed. No, this one, tonight, it was one I called "The Rival".
Tonight was the eighth night, and any pretense I had for sleep was long gone. It didn't matter if I camped far from the riverbank, under the trees, or atop a small hill off route, no. Every night the eyes of the white-on-blue beast were watching, every night I sought fighting the irrational fear they invoked on me, every night I chased them like a madman, only to return sobbing and listen to the comforts Champion Red spewed in my ears.
I shall never doubt myself, he, I, us would say. For I am the Champion. I am the one who stands above. If I deem it non-existent, then it shall be non-existent.
Except tonight it wasn't Champion Red, but The Rival.
He had appeared the night of Silk's death, and unlike Champion Red, his duty seemed to increase my doubts. For the past three nights I had been listening to the debates the two had, but tonight he was alone.
And again, he asked the same question in that cocky, know-it-all manner of his.
What are you doing here, Red? Here, on this road?
Training, I was training and battling, I was-
I've always warned you, he snapped. Smart mouthing; it don't suit you. You may be "training", but we both know it's a pretense. You're only here because it's a road leading towards the rockets. To Lavender.
Yes, true, so I could take my revenge on them, I knew that.
Why though?
What did he mean?
Here's the Red I know. The Red I know lacks any and all human feelings, except arrogance. And that's what fuels his drive for championship, he can't bear to see someone else sit on that throne placed higher than him. He may lie and seek other motives, but we both know this is the sole truth.
Because remember, he cruelly continued, I was there that day. The day you challenged. The day you swore you would meet him at the summit.
And I would, right after I took care of the rockets.
So you're putting your grand ambition on hold?
No, never. One did not substitute for the other, why couldn't he just see this?
I tell what I see Reddy. And I see someone angry at losing time six months ago for a four-day delay caused by a bike fallout in Viridian Forest now take a casual leisurely stroll that will at best last at least a month. What happened to that fire Red, back then you had three years, now only two-and-a-half, and suddenly you've decided half-assing the journey?
No, of course not, but back then I had grossly overestimated our leaders' fighting chance against me, back then, naive as I was, and without The Champion's advices, I hadn't known I could win badges almost anytime I wanted, at my first try. Here I was, in only six months with three badges already. The remaining two-and-a-half years would be more than enough, so much that I could afford this side-journey.
Then you've grown cocky, is that it? In success, you are now allowed a break to pursue your secondary dreams, which you've only discovered, what was it now, yeah, after the S.S. Anne, did even a month pass since then? And the dream itself was, what? Crush the rockets? Kill them? A vendetta?
Why did he argue against this so much? I could do whatever I wanted, this was my journey, and I was Champion Red, so what I decided on had to be right! And besides, why did he even care, destroying the drug cartel that was the rockets, destroying the terrorist organization that was the rockets, they all would count as a public service, wasn't that his ambition all along?
You're confusing a dream with the actual self, and even then, you would be wrong. I'm not him; I'm you. I'm the promise you made with him. Your promise. Your self-claimed path of destiny.
And I'm only here to warn you Red.
You're straying.
))(())((
"Kind of small fry for you, aren't they?"
Who? I looked up with tired eyes from the battle that had just concluded. Callidora had made short work against the granbull, and I was just about to receive the agreed money from her trainer for the win when the woman had interrupted. Her bright red hair was cut extremely short and made quite the contrast with her olive skin; I wondered briefly whether or not her hair was dyed.
But I recognized her of course, she was just the right amount of famous in my field for me to know her. Not to mention, it was only three months ago that I had watched her speak her mind about me on an interview.
"You're Trainer Red, yes?" asked the seven badged Cinnabarian Trainer Naomi.
I just shut my eyes, any other movement would require too much effort.
"Cool. Been wanting to go against you – you made that victory against the Lieutenant seem so easy."
So, she's still keeping tabs on emerging trainers, potential rivals, despite having seven badges. Man, dedication is a rare quality these days. Makes a certain on "vacation" three badger I know look stupid, the mocking voice in my head began. Now that's a real trainer if I've ever seen one, right Reddy boy?
Do not mock The Champion.
"You up for it?" Trainer Naomi glanced down towards the fresh out of battle Callidora. "Or you need some time to rest?"
She thinks The Champion needs rest?
I shook my head and walked toward the clearing she had shown, hoping not to pass out mid-way. A few trainers' heads turned at my action.
"Not big on talking, are you? Heard that about you, never believed the rumors though." She rolled her eyes and stood across me. An excitement rushed through the trainers around us; both Naomi and I were famous enough on our own, and here we were to battle. Regardless of the outcome, no doubt they would be entertained.
It's not your job to entertain though. Just focus on winning; you lose against her, you can't win against him at the summit.
It is not The Champion's mission to entertain the masses. And loss exists not in The Champion's vocabulary.
Finally, the two voices were aligned.
"I'm thinking, three vs one single? Or two if you're up to it?" She took a pokeball from her belt. "Your best two against my Lucky, that works?"
In shock, I just stared at her. Did she just, did she really insinuate-
She's mocking you. Thinks you'll need two for her one, heh, she doesn't know you, does she?
She dares insult us?
"No," I said. My voice was hoarse from having not spoken out loud for a few days, but it was audible, and, more importantly, firm. "No. No. No. I will not fight at an advantage."
I looked at her straight in the eye. "One vs one."
A gasp echoed from the audience.
Trainer Naomi squinted her eyes. "Kid, I didn't ask you if you knew me before, my bad. But I'm a seven badger, that's twice and more than yours. I wasn't insulting you with my suggestion, I was making the fight fair."
Lay it at her Red. Rip her.
"Seven badges. Two won though gym studies." Her nostrils flared in anger, I had hit a mark. "I reckon my three combat badges will give an equal footing enough, thank you." Up until this point at the exchange Callidora had been watching silently, but I didn't need her now. I recalled her back to the ball and blew a sharp whistle.
"Pikachu."
He was always close by, he just disliked being near Callidora when she was out. The air crackled, and with a scream the crowd parted, and out jumped Pikachu, centering himself in the makeshift circle and growling loudly. With his above average size, lean and visible muscles, and overcharged fur sparkling with health, he looked impressively prepared to kill.
Naomi's eyed fixed on Pikachu for a moment before her grimaced face relaxed. She shrugged as she clicked the release button on her pokeball. "Arrogant, aren't you? Fine, one vs one it is. Just remember," The red light emitted was just beginning to take solid form, "I too won badges by combat, five of them."
And suddenly: Fire.
Pikachu snarled and jumped back; but even I could feel the heat from where I was, I couldn't imagine what it was like for him in such close proximity to the source. The grassy terrain had immediately caught fire with Naomi's pokemon's emergence, and Pikachu was jumping from side to side, trying to keep the soles of his feet at minimum contact with the ablaze earth, but no use, I hadn't even registered the order of the attack when a small wave of fire moved towards his way when Naomi's starter stomped the earth with one black hoof.
Dodge, dodge, dodge, dodge, dodge!
He barely did, by rolling on his side, but still part of his fur was caught; no serious damage from what I could tell, just signed skin. Enough to hurt his pride though.
I tapped on my side and whistled. Hit back quickly before he moves!
And even while still rolling on his back, Pikachu expertly directed his tail to shoot thunder towards where the fire-wave had originated, but…
I thought I knew speed.
I knew nothing.
Lucky the rapidash was already running an imaginary circle, and all I could see was a blur. Horrified, I realized that before I had even registered what pokemon I was dealing with, the fire horse had done three tours around Pikachu, each time the radius shrinking.
And what passed behind those flying hooves were only flames.
We're trapped in a fire spin.
No, no, no.
A quick double tap. Hit him!
Trapped in the middle of the arena, Pikachu tried as much as he could to aim and fire lightning in succession, but the rapidash was just too fast, and the heat and flames were closing in, the space Pikachu could operate in was becoming narrower and narrower, and soon he didn't bother with even aiming anymore, just random bolts, but none hit Lucky at all, and I could see the trap, only a few more rounds were remaining until the fire completely reached Pikachu, and the only way I could save him was, was to surrender-
No.
I could feel Naomi's curious eyes on me; the battle was over, wasn't it?
No.
The difference in power, speed, and strength was too obvious; why wasn't I recalling my pokemon, she just couldn't understand why I wasn't giving up.
NO.
One tap. Short and loud. Pikachu's favorite order.
Get physical.
If I could just make contact, then Pikachu's static fur would take care of the rest, but…
The only way to do so would be to jump in the wildly running rapidash's path.
The bulging eyes of Naomi when Pikachu darted proved her suspicions: I was crazy for ordering that.
And so was Pikachu for obeying.
Yet he did; and only, only when in his path did I notice how small Pikachu was compared to the equine inferno burning with literal horsepower, and only then did I notice the bent head of the fire horse where the polished, shiny horn ready to pierce all in its path stood, only then did I notice the heavy hooves capable of trampling even primeape underneath their sheer power, only then did I notice that both in agility and speed this pokemon was superior. The outcome was obvious, impending, but everything had taken place in less than a millionth fraction of a second, and there was no time for Pikachu to move out of the way, he was about to be-
The red light hit just in the nick of time, and suddenly Pikachu was alone on the field.
"I see," said Trainer Naomi coldly, as she attached the pokeball in her hand back to her belt. "So, you're that kind of trainer." She turned her back before firing her last shot.
"Congratulations, Trainer Red. I give up. You won."
))(())((
Well, technically you did. Even in my book. The "get-physical" tactic was solid, we've seen Pikachu's fur take down Diamondback, what's the my-little-pony compared to that monster?
If she were a Champion, she would have had the stomach for the kill. But she wasn't, she was less, and hence weak, so she could only bow and leave the sacred arena. The win is ours, and The Champion proves undefeated.
Once again it was night, and we had finally reached where the road ended and the flowing near river met the sea: Route K10. Out of Trainer's Haven, Rock Tunnel was only a day's ride south, but I was simply exhausted, ten straight days of battling and training without any sleep was enough to drive anyone mad.
Hopefully though, in Rock Tunnel I could find peace. Because there-
The eyes. Again.
The blue on white body. No, wait, white on blue.
There. Again.
No sleep tonight. Again.
I shut my eyes in desperation.
So, you're that kind of trainer.
That kind of trainer.
That kind.
"Urrgh," I grunted. Why were those words bothering me so much? Had I not won? Was the cost not worth the victory?
Don't think if it causes discomfort.
My eyes opened in surprise: This was a new voice. Neither mocking nor arrogant, this one was soothing, feminine.
Anything that harms you, anything that hurts you; just ignore them. Bury them. Forget them. Pretend they never happened, stay silent on them. Do not talk about them, ever. Talking is reliving, and that's too painful.
Have to agree with the lady, Red. Out of mind, out of worry; and maybe that way you can finally focus on the your real goal and also drop this rocket business altogether.
"Urrrrgh," I put my hands to my head and rubbed my temples. So noisy.
Either the rockets or any other obstacle; so long they remain on The Champion's path, they shall be swept aside.
Yeeesh, he can't go and do both now, can he? The rockets are secondary, they can be dealt with once he becomes champion.
Too hurtful. The rockets tortured us, we don't want that again, let's simply forget about them.
"Shut up," I muttered, and gradually my voice increased. "Shut up. Shut up. Shut. Up. All of you. SHUT UP!"
The last one was an outright cry, and startled, all my pokemon woke up.
And unfortunately, that was when the eyes decided to strike.
"Wha- Uurghhh!"
Impossibly fast; the main body burst out of the river and hit me. The attack was too fast for my team to react; under the astonished looks of Pikachu, Callidora, Dante, and Paul, I was thrown far away from their protective circle and hit the ground with a thundering crash.
That's three ribs busted Red. What the hell hit you?
It doesn't matter. I gritted my teeth and stood up. It's still five against one.
Pikachu didn't even hesitate. The moment I had been launched into the air, I could feel the air crackle, and no matter what our mysterious assailant was, if it came from the river, it was likely water type. Blinding flashes of light accompanied by roaring thunder ripped through the dark, one, two, three bolts. From where I stood, I clearly saw the blue and white body fall onto the ground near our campfire.
The beast is slain. The Champion still stands.
Not that quickly. Never that easy.
In horror, I realized he was right.
Callidora was smarter when battling, and it was likely that which saved Dante's and Pikachu's lives. Both sprang atop the body the moment it had hit the ground, ready to confirm the kill through claw and tooth, but no, it was all only bait.
What comes around goes around.
The pokemon attacked twice in a split second: A thin, focused jet of water aimed directly between Dante's eyes, and snapping teeth attached to a giant jaw ready to bite Pikachu's head off. So unexpected were his movements that even the agile Pikachu could not avoid it; death was imminent had Callidora not pulled both of the pokemon back with her pre-prepared vines.
Yet the beast was skilled in improvisation as well. A twist of the head; and suddenly water pierced through Dante's shoulder, and both of Pikachu's hind legs were caught in the monster's jaws. Struggled and twist as he might, he couldn't break free, and the teeth were sinking deeper and deeper.
I held my side and tried rushing back towards our campsite where the battle took place, but my pace was too slow, and at each breath it felt as if multiple knives were stabbing at my side.
I would be too late.
And without my orders, Pikachu would do the one thing he could to break free.
This monster is a genius.
Pikachu's fur sparkled menacingly, and he unleashed all he had. In close contact, no way that wouldn't hurt, even a tyranitar would shirk at that output. The clenched tight jaw broke wide open, and Pikachu quickly crawled his way out as far as the two still functioning legs would let him.
But unfortunately, at the moment of Pikachu's desperate attack, Callidora's vines were still attached to Pikachu, so part of that output travelled through directly at her… and even worse, through her main body and second vine, at Dante, who while would be experiencing a reduced voltage, did not share Callidora's type resistance.
And even with the resistance and reduced voltage calculated; that still was the entirety of Pikachu's stored electricity, and it would definitely hit hard.
Only a few steps were left till I made it, but I could see it was already over. The beast had taken the full blunt of Pikachu's lightning and had collapsed near the fire; no water pokemon could live after such discharged energy. Dante had dropped immediately when the indirect lightning had hit, Pikachu was immobilized and out of juice, and Callidora was twitching and spasming hard on her feet; zero distance thunder would do that to anyone. Only Paul stood healthy and registered the scene through unintelligent eyes, as an added insult, the monster hadn't even directed any attack towards my slowbro.
Speaking of, now closer to the light, I could see while the attacker was indeed blue, and did have a patch of white around his ears and tails, this beast was, was, was not-
Was not what Red? Finish the thought. What did you expect?
No! Never! Forget you ever saw it, forget you ever witnessed it, forget even the name of Suic-
What's that smell?
The third thought was mine and mine alone, uninfluenced, and took priority over all else. Finally arriving at the scene, my nose wrinkled at the stench, so familiar, something from my days at training school, something important that was the key here…
No. No. The team first.
Dante was bleeding through his shoulder, but both of Pikachu's legs had been chewed, he needed inspection first. I knelt towards my passed-out starter and tried feeling around the bite marks. What worried me was if the bones were broken; if so, healing that was beyond my capabilities. Luckily though, the snapping jaw had only cut deep through the flesh and missed the skeletal structure. A mixed gel of sitrus and pecha berries would be enough to avoid infections, I just needed to reach for my bag-
Suddenly, I recognized the stench.
Wacan berries.
A clenched fist hit me at the back of my head, and I could feel the blood. Knocked over by the impact, the pokemon turned me over on the floor; helpless as I was, I couldn't help but watch as the clawed hands reached around and wrapped my throat. A body the same size as myself bent close and looked me in the eye before slowly beginning to strangle me, and as I ran out of breath, I couldn't help but think: Why strangle? Why turn me over and look at my face, why not use any elemental powers, why not bite my head off, why strangle and watch?
Because it's personal for this pokemon.
It wants to see me suffer.
For the first time, I tried looking at my assailant clearly. Brown eyes above a jaw of sharp teeth; Pikachu's blood on them still visible. Whitish fur covered the long ears and tails, and the body itself was protected by a thick, brown shell.
The turtle pokemon.
The wartortle's grip on my neck tightened.
Think Red dammit, think! Or we're all going down!
All my pokemon except Paul were either down or injured, and he would be entirely useless against this opponent. But… through teary eyes, behind the wartortle's shell, I could see Paul's eyes glowing a violet color, which meant he actually was attacking on a psychic plane, his slow processing brain had finally caught up on the action even without my directions.
I choked, and a violent grin formed on the turtle pokemon's face. Then why is nothing happening?
Because its mental defenses are stronger.
Which means this isn't a wild pokemon. It's trained.
And suddenly it all clicked in place. I remembered where I had seen this pokemon last, and to whom it used to belong.
"Da- ahhh," I couldn't finish the sentence, apparently the wartortle had enjoyed the scene enough and was ready for its end. But I had to; one sentence, one sentence would save me.
"Da- nielle," I managed, and by the way its eyes squinted, I knew I had guessed right. "No- not. Me."
Nothing changed in its demeanor.
It's trained. It must understand some notion of speech. Use simple words.
My arms and legs were spasming independently, I had no oxygen left in my cells, and the wartortle had no intent of letting go yet.
Or die. And forget. There is peace in death.
Unacceptable. The Champion is eternal.
One. Last. Try.
Make it believe you.
With enormous effort, I stopped my arms and legs from trembling. Its eyes were barely visible under the light of the campfire, but I sought and found them anyway. In my last breath, I told the truth.
"I did not kill your trainer."
With a deafening crash, the turtle pokemon fell backwards on his shell, and suddenly I was reunited with air.
"Aaaaaaaaagggggh!"
I choked on its abundance, how had I never appreciated oxygen before?
You never do until you miss it.
It took me a moment to stand up again, and I was greeted with the curious sight of Paul standing over the wartortle, his eyes still glowing.
Would'ya look at that, the dingus saved us. Your words broke its concentration, and whoop, enter Paul. He shut the mind from the inside.
But he couldn't keep him under for long, which meant I had to wake up either Callidora or Pikachu soon if I wanted a chance against this beast.
Beast is a right word indeed. You notice it used your own tactics against you? Baiting the enemy close and lunging when unexpected, no wonder Callidora saved the others, she recognized the trick from having used it before.
And not just you either. Wasn't there this trainer moaning about losing some wacan berries before; well, here's the culprit. Probably saw how they provided insulation against electric attacks and rubbed the juice all over its own body, smart.
And the timing of the attack! The voice in my head kept going while I tried treating Callidora's shivers by force-feeding her cheri berries from my bag. Danielle told us she had released her pokemon to the wild before Jessie arrived; but a pokemon can't just leave that easily, can it? It probably hid in the city canals near, watching the apartment. And it was only after you left that Danielle was dead, so naturally it assumed you were the killer. And it's been tracking you ever since, watching, observing, studying, and waiting for your weakest moment! And you always used Pikachu, Dante, and Callidora for battles, but rarely Paul, so it couldn't plan enough counters for him, and outright ignored him. Flawed, but not bad for a pokemon without a trainer at its side, am I right?
And you know what this means? The mystery of the blue and white pokemon stalking you at night, the eyes, it's solved! Clearly, it was all this guy-
"Is it?" I asked, joining the conversation in my head as I walked towards Pikachu with the necessary ointment for his treatment in my hand. "Is it clear? Can any one of you in my mind can say for absolute certain that the beast haunting me was this one," I pointed towards Danielle's wartortle, "and not the other one, the one we dream of? Can anyone say for certain we will finally sleep tonight?"
…
"So I thought," I muttered and began rubbing the gel on Pikachu's legs, making sure enough was left for Dante.
Such thoughts are irrelevant. It was The Champion's turn to take over my psyche. All that matters is fate has once again bowed to us.
"And that means?" I mumbled as I worked in the shrinking light of the campfire. Starting with Dante for light would've been better, I thought.
The beast is formidable. Worthy. And without a trainer.
I dropped the gel in my hands in surprise. Curiously, I glanced towards where the wartortle lay still.
It would be a fine addition to a Champion's team.
"So he would, wouldn't he? I muttered. "So he would…"
))(())((
Author's note:
Yellow game, Red meets a squirtle in Vermilion, which he also technically did in my fic. Surprise surprise.
Wacan berry is an in-game berry consumable that reduces, I think, fifty percent off an electric attack (could be twenty-five). My mom in HeartGold used to buy it all the time and I would stick it to my red gyarados; what an absolute beast that thing was in game.
Red's been having a few shitty weeks, don't blame him too much if he seems too edgy and angsty and crazy. I personally find him more fun to write crazy.
Next chapter: Sunday or Monday, not sure. Then another one immediately after (The reason I'm doing so quickly is I really want these three-four chapters fresh in memory and read in a row).