Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon. That right belongs to Nintendo. I said this for the sixteenth time, but it's still true. At least I own "For the Love of the King: History".
A/N: After the poll was finished, I've decided to let all of you have a chance to review the story.
A/N: Well, Pearlshipping won! And right on time as well! Yay!
A/N: Mostly everything that comes from "For the Love of a King: History" is fanon, but of course the back-story (if that's what Pokemon Black can be referred to as) will be mentioned every now and then.
A/N: I loved my reviews/feedback, constructive criticism and of course, I await more!
A/N: Red's gonna come off as different at first, but he'll snap out of it.
A/N: Okay, I think that's everything, so moving into chapter 16, "Red".
N's PoV.
Iris came back, with a man carrying a Pikachu atop his shoulder sauntering behind her.
All of a sudden, I heard Platina gasp.
Turning around, I examined the White look-alike's face, the only difference being the silvery eyes and dark hair. Her eyes, usually so intimidating and stern, were wide-eyed and swimming with tears. The battle-ready expression I've seen Platina worn was replaced with affection and love, similar to the one she always had on whenever she'd addressed or was talking about White.
Platina fluidly rose to her feet, knocking the chair aside with her knee. However, she was too amazed and awed by the man to notice.
I wheeled around, drinking in the man's appearance.
He was around Platina's age, about in his mid-thirties, with a slim and slender physique. His hair was jet-black, spiky and excessively glossy, big tufts spread across his forehead, shielded by a crimson hat, with no elaborate design whatsoever.
His skin tone and complexion was uncannily similar to White's, save he had more of a tan. The man's eyes – wide in setting, round and large – were medium red. But in the darkness of the library, those spheres appeared to be black.
He donned a vest-esque blood red windbreaker, edged with magnolia, corresponding with the beveled collar sticking outward, heavily concealing a simple flat black shirt. The man sported snug dark wristbands, void of any design. His denim jeans almost fell completely to the ground, almost devouring the shoes matching his eyes, except the secondary colors were as gray as a storm cloud and the same color as his hair.
As soon as he took out a Heal Ball pendant, Platina bolted over to him, the man extending his arms out.
Platina jumped into them, murmuring, "Oh, I've missed you so much!" Almost immediately, she began tearing up, the man tightening his embrace.
"OH MY GOD! THAT POKEMON IS SO, SO, SO CUTE!" Bianca yelled.
I jerked upward, clasping my hands to my ears.
White, who was eyeing the man with bemusement, gasped when she saw the man's Pikachu glancing at her, his cheeks crackling with electricity.
As she took several steps forward, White said thoughtlessly, "It's a Pikachu." Confusion flitted across her face.
Pikachu was so delighted White had recognized him, his ears jerked up. It's White! Oh, I'm so happy! But why aren't you picking me up like you used to when you were small? Pikachu's face adopted nostalgia.
As Pikachu stared at the man, perplexed, his body glowing with love of the purest kind.
Inadvertently, I gasped, thoroughly impressed at how Pikachu regarded this man.
The man, his eyelids shut, absently ran his fingers through Platina's mane, sighing contently. "You have no idea how much I've missed you," he admitted. "We can be together again – all of us." He opened his eyes, revealing those disturbing jewels.
Platina extricated herself out of his arms, following the man's advancement toward her daughter. "You and me . . . we're best friends with Pikachu," the man told White.
He smiled at White, the smile just as warm as hers, save guilty. Because of the disturbingly familiar smile, I knew he wasn't a visitor to Platina.
White's face turned redder than lava, her countenance unreadable.
She seemed annoyed, cheerful, grateful, enraged, nostalgic, bitter, miserable, hurt and dumbstruck upon surveying the adult.
As soon as the man stood in front of White, she asked, "Who are you?"
Even though the man was taller than White by a good hand span, he and Pikachu must've been affected by White's malicious glare, probably more intense than the ones she'd reserved for me.
Pikachu stared gloomily at White, sighing. The electricity pulsating within his cheeks died away.
Platina was half-frustrated, half-flabbergasted with White. "White, this is -" she began to say, meeting her daughter's arctic glower.
"Platina, she needs to hear it from me," the man cut across her. "I already feel horrible enough as it is, and she has every right to be upset with me, even though -"
Although comprehension dawned upon White's face, she said again, "Who are you?"
This time she was addressing the man, not Pikachu and the nameless man, with the angriest of tones.
He obviously spotted the look of recognition, for he said shrewdly, "I think you know the answer to that, White."
I knew I did.
Right when he and Iris walked in, I could easily spot the atmosphere about him. As with Platina and White, this kind of aura marked him as a very, very strong Pokemon Trainer, no doubt Pokemon Champion material.
"I. Want. To. Hear. It. From. You," White said between her teeth, the look on her face infuriated.
Though crestfallen, the man stared at Pikachu, who stared back, gazing at him imploringly.
After he inhaled and exhaled, he said breathlessly, "White, you're my daughter."
The room temperature seemed to drop several degrees, the atmosphere becoming heavier than ever.
White balled her hands into fists, a hiss escaping from her mouth. "You're my father?" she said disbelievingly. A split second later, White loosened her hands.
White's father nodded.
"That's impossible," said Cheren. "White always said her father abandoned both her and her mother."
"Yeah, you're lying," Bianca chimed in.
"I -" I began to say.
White bowed her head, shaking uncontrollably. "Well, Father," she snarled. "You have some serious explaining to do."
Chapter 15: Red
N's PoV.
I'd always viewed White as pure, kind, caring, cheerful, intelligent, impulsive and so many other things I can list. I'm not saying White's perfect, because she was just as imperfect as I was.
But even though I knew White had a dark side, I'd always dismissed the observation, believing it to be mere speculation, not a fact.
I may as well have been blind.
The darkness White had carried around regarding her father had increased tenfold, more prominent and deadlier than ever before. The hatred and bitterness stemming from White's strong feelings of abandonment were present in both her eyes and face.
Now I admit White had a much darker side than she let on, and not only was it unnerving, it was at its peak.
"First off, what's your name?" I asked White's father. "It can't be Father, right?"
White's father, originally saddened, had an unreadable expression reminiscent of White's.
He's definitely her father, I thought.
"No," he agreed. "My name is Red Electra, Pokemon Champion of Kanto, husband of Platina Berlitz, father of White." He still wore the unreadable look whilst Pikachu seemed to recognize me and felt uneasy about it.
He also felt offended I would dare read his thoughts, and now Pikachu was attempting to conduct a mental barrier in order to protect himself from my gift.
First Dialga. Now Pikachu.
Did those Pokemon hate me at first sight or what?
Or did Dialga detach itself from its emotions because of the connection it had to the Nameless Stone? Was I the epitome of Idealism who was supposed to be drained of the mere belief I held in high esteem, my essential makeup? Most importantly, did the Houses of Levesque and Parthenos write books about their bloodlines and the legends surrounding the God and Void Stones passed down from generation to generation for posterity's sake?
Something told me that the legend Platina wrote was incomplete, and the enigmatic Houses of Levesque and Parthenos held more information about the God and Void Stones. Did any of this have to do with the way Dialga was able to shield its thoughts and emotions from my paranormal empathy?
"You're a Pokemon Champion?" Cheren blurted out.
"Red's more than that," Drayden answered. "He's the rival of Blue Oak of the Viridian City Gym -"
"Drayden, I prefer frenemies these days," Red sighed. "We still have a rivalry . . . yet I'm stronger because I train -"
White growled. "Red . . . you, N and my mother will walk through Opelucid City and . . . I want to hear the lame excuse you have for not being around when I needed you the most."
Cheren and Bianca were taken aback and outraged at this.
"How come N can go?" Cheren demanded. "Do you favor him over us now?"
"White, I want to go," Bianca begged her. "Can Iris go as well?"
Even though I was touched by White wanting me around while talking to Platina and Red, I said seriously, "I think you should catch up with Red and . . . I'll get ready for the festival tonight."
"I'm your best friend!" Cheren and Bianca said simultaneously.
White merely said nothing to them.
"Red . . . I'm staying as well," Platina decided. "I know White wants me there for moral support, but I can't always be . . ."
White wheeled around on her. "Keeping secrets, are we?" she said nastily.
Red glowed red. "Don't talk to your mother that way," he said sternly. "It doesn't matter whether you're Unova Pokemon Champion or not . . . you're still underage and our daughter!"
White sneered at Red. "You may have sent me letters, showered me with gifts and called me whenever my birthday or the holidays came around, but . . . I would've liked to have seen you -"
Red's eyes turned redder, reminding me eerily of blood and war. The mere sight of his temper flaring up made me frightened, enough for me to bump into a stack of books, luckily staying put. "You have no idea how much I love you, White," he said calmly, his face contorted with sadness, albeit his eyes were furious. "I can't tell you how sorry I am for not being a better father to you. But at least hear me out."
"Red's telling the truth," Iris observed. "Ghetsis, the Seven Sages, the Shadow Triad and Team Plasma are searching for you and N. You need to understand how terrible your dad feels right now! I'm sure he loves you a lot, and wants to make peace with you. Please give him a chance!"
White stared at Iris, furrowing her brows. "I always knew you were a forgiving person," she said coldly. "Red abandoned me. Even if I forgive him for his absence, it won't change the past."
"Don't speak to me that way," Iris defended herself.
Red, though enraged, seemed guilt-ridden. In fact, Pikachu seemed just as crestfallen as Red did.
On the bright side, I could read Pikachu's expressions.
"Young White," Drayden said softly. "If you can forgive N for his actions, then surely you can forgive Red for everything he has done. In fact, all he did was mention a daughter who lived in Unova, who would be known as -"
Red hoisted his hand up. "With all due respect, Drayden, White should hear everything from me. And White, I'm not asking for you to forgive and forget about how I have failed you as a parent. No matter how much you resent me, you're still a very important person to me."
"White, I'm staying here," I said firmly. "Red wants to speak with you and only you."
"Stay out of my way," Cheren warned me.
I smirked. "I was planning to," I admitted. "Now that you mention that . . . I might take that as an invitation."
"Stop it, you two!" Platina interjected. "Your quarrelling is the other reason I'm staying behind. Besides, I need to look after you -"
"I can take care of myself," I insisted. "If Ghetsis wants to abduct me, then I will fight him myself."
"You're not ready to face him," Platina protested. "N, I will take care of Ghetsis myself!"
White looked imploringly at Platina, Bianca, Cheren and I.
"I can't do this alone," she told all of us. "Bianca, I still owe you that manicure, pedicure and hairstyle."
Bianca smiled. "Iris can take me," she reminded her. "Besides, what's wrong with a little father and daughter time?"
White considered Bianca. "What about your father and you?" she inquired.
Bianca's smile melted off her face. "It's all about you today. When you get back, I'm not going to be here. I have a festival to get ready for!"
As White turned to Cheren, there was a pregnant pause exchanged between the duo. "You should talk with your father," Cheren advised White. "That's what I would do if I were you."
White sighed. "So be it, Red," she conceded.
Red frowned, his Pikachu leaping on to his hat. "Don't call me by my first name," he said sternly.
White jutted her chin in the air, looking defiant. Glaring at Red, she twirled around and stormed out of the library. Red gazed at Platina for a brief second before directing his creepy eyes toward me.
Both of us examined each other for a moment, Red wearing a disapproving face. Great, a possibly overprotective father, I thought moodily.
Red tore his penetrating stare off me before darting over to the library door, Pikachu doing his utmost to cling on to Red's hat. As soon as he turned around the corner, the door opened for a moment before slamming shut again.
We were all silent for a while. "Why did you stay here?" I folded my arms, flicking the locks away from my forehead for the umpteenth time.
Platina's face darkened. "We should help Drayden, Iris, Cheren and Bianca put the books away. Then, we must get ready for the Temporal Festival."
Iris giggled. "Besides the food and carnival, I love the Masquerade Dance . . ."
I stiffened. "Is this cosplay or Halloween?" I asked of no one. "By the way, I don't dance."
No one answered me.
"So, it's called the Temporal Festival," said Cheren. "May I ask why?" He was holding several books in his hands, steadying them with his chin while embracing the others with his lanky arms. "Drayden, where can I put these?" he asked the Gym Leader whilst throwing me a dirty look.
"The back," Drayden replied. "Despite us being a city of rapid change, and behaving as if we don't care much about the past, that's not the case. We care very, very much about the past, and value and respect history more than any other city in Unova. If you want to know the truth, the Temporal Festival celebrates the day Opelucid City was founded."
Cheren nodded before ambling over to the back, much to my relief.
"History?" Bianca pulled a face. "I want to dress up, dance and . . ." The blonde started twirling around, her arms swaying in the air. Sighing dreamily, she said, "Oh, I hope Opelucid City has a lakeside, where I can find some cute guy and dance under a gazebo, filled with roses and lit up . . . that's so romantic!"
"Why do girls care about romance?" I asked. "And . . ."
"Ask White," Iris whispered into my ear.
I unfolded my arms.
Before I knew it, Iris gripped me by the arms. "HEY!" I boomed. "WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE TAKING ME?"
"I see." Bianca grabbed my arms, wearing a triumphant look on her face. "Let's do it."
They were steering me toward my doom.
White's PoV.
Red furrowed his brows, taking hold of my broken hand.
I tried to rip free of his grasp, except he was stronger than me. "You're not helping me," I hissed. "I'd rather have a doctor look at this injury than you."
We were sitting on a white marble bench, glowing neon yellow. Several feet away from us were vending machines, translucent and glimmering, with built-in neon lights. Every now and then, I noticed people strolling up and down the sleek streets, dressed up as socialites stepping foot from the pages of storybooks my mother read to me.
Red sighed. "You're just as stubborn as I am," he responded. "Anyways, I'm a Pokemon Trainer, and whenever I got hurt or my Pokemon did . . . I always took care of our wounds. When I met Platina . . ." He had a faraway look on his face. "What matters most is our relationship, White."
"I don't want you to be in my life," I said nastily.
"I want to be in your life," he said patiently. "Your mother wishes this as well. I care about both of you, but I didn't appreciate you always saying you never wanted to talk to me. White, I bought you that TV and Nintendo Wii. I sent you the diary you always write in . . . Most of those books . . . I've given up a lot when it comes to you."
"You bought my love," I insisted. "You only came back because Mother was threatened by Ghetsis. Other than that, you would've never came back."
Red narrowed his scary eyes. "I heard about everything," he said seriously. "I left to protect you and Platina from Ghetsis and the Sages, which was the hardest thing I'd done. And the biggest mistake I made."
"You could've saved yourself all this regret by taking me with you." Reluctantly, I allowed Red to examine my broken hand. "Why didn't you, Red?"
"I told you to call me Father." Red's voice was composed, although I'd noticed how exasperated he sounded. "I wanted to take you, but your mother wouldn't let me. I argued with her about that for a week before I left for Pallet Town to take care of my mother. I was hardly home, visiting other regions, with the exception of Unova.
"I did spend time at Mt. Silver or researching the Houses of Berlitz's, Levesque's and Parthenos's histories, and how they descended from White and Black, both intent on protecting the Nameless, Void and God Stones, artifacts dating from the time before time. Supposedly, those stones were from outer space, just as the meteorites in Meteor Falls of Hoenn and Mt. Moon from my home region are.
"This might hurt." Red pressed his thumb against my knuckle, making me cringe from both the agony and throbbing. "Yeah, you have a broken knuckle. Do you want a cast?" He eyed N's fabric cast resting between me and him. Tenderly, Red withdrew his thumb from my hand.
"I'm fine," I told him coolly. "I heard that you act a lot like me."
Red, in spite of himself, gave a sunny smile. "I do," he confirmed. "I'm just worried about my daughter. That N . . . or Cheren . . ." He developed a grim face, his countenance fatherly.
I raised my eyebrows. "They're friends of mine," I protested. "I don't have romantic feelings for either of them."
Red cracked a smile. "I would like for you to keep it that way," he said lightly.
"Pika, Pika!" Pikachu agreed.
Pikachu leaped off Red's hat, poising himself atop his shoulder. "Pika, Pi?" Pikachu motioned his head towards the backpack propped against Red's waistline.
Red nodded. "She obviously doesn't want a cast," he said to Pikachu. "Get her a brace."
I flushed. "I absolutely refuse, Red."
Red was offended at the rudeness I displayed towards him, but he didn't say anything. "I want your hand to get better," he revealed to me. "I should thank that N boy for taking care of you . . . but I still don't like him."
Pikachu unzipped the backpack before burying his entire body into the bag, which devoured him whole. "Pika?" he said. "Chu . . ." There was rustling inside the backpack as Pikachu combed every inch for the brace.
"How can you communicate with Pikachu?" I pondered. "Only N can talk to Pokemon."
Red threw his head back and laughed. "Whoever said you needed telepathy to understand your Pokemon?" he said, smiling. "When you've known your Pokemon for a long time, then you can understand them pretty well." Red fiddled with his Heal Ball pendant absently.
He seemed pensive before slipping the pendant back into his windbreaker. "You stopped Team Plasma . . . Platina stopped Team Galactic . . . I stopped Team Rocket. Unlike Cyrus and Giovanni, Ghetsis can't be brought down that easily." His eyes flashed. "If the Nameless Stone could be broken, then I would break it without hesitation. But that accursed stone is indestructible. Why can't it be otherwise?"
Pikachu materialized into being, twitching his ears. Resting between his teeth was a brace the color of my skin, which was a relief. If I wanna blend in, then the brace has to match my skin color. Seriously, I don't wanna go to the festival with a brace looking exactly like a watch! Then people would stop me and ask what time it is.
Red smiled. "Good job, Pikachu," he praised him. A weak chuckle rippled out of Red's mouth as he motioned for Pikachu to deliver him the brace. "I'll zip up the backpack," he offered.
Pikachu leaped skyward, landing on top of my kneecap. "Pika?" He winked, his cheeks flickering with electricity. "Pika! Pi?"
Red looked meaningfully at Pikachu before zipping up his backpack. "Please, Pikachu." Red wiggled his fingers, his expression pleading. "You can have time -"
I shook my head. "Neither of you will spend time with me again," I promised, although my voice was on the verge of cracking. "Red, why now?"
Pikachu swerved around, brandishing the brace. Promptly, Red took hold of it, triumph exuding from his eyes. Hovering over me, Red instructed for me to open my hands a bit wider.
When I said I wouldn't, Pikachu started to beg me in a heartbroken voice. Unwillingly, I relented.
I growled while Red slipped the brace onto my hand, the man advising for me not to take it off until we were able to see a doctor. I nodded, still glaring at Red with distaste. "Thanks," I managed to say, ensuring the bitterness overlapped the gratefulness in my voice.
Red nodded.
I longed to press Red for questions about my mother's past history with Ghetsis. I found it difficult to believe she and Ghetsis were tortured geniuses who once dreamed of Pokemon liberation, and wanted to carry out this dream for reasons unknown. My mother said that Ghetsis took it out of context, although Ghetsis had taunted her about me finding out the truth, and perhaps hating her.
Although my mother was composed, his words clearly bothered her. Ghetsis also knew Red, meaning he could've played a major role in snapping my mother out of this phase she went through. Obviously, all three of them had a darker past than my mother had let on. Would Red lie to me about it, too?
Except there was a big problem: I couldn't trust Red or my mother.
They're both self-satisfied and self-serving adults who only thought about themselves, I was thinking, seeing nothing but red. As a matter of fact, I would consider that apt, since my father was named Red.
At least I knew whose personality I'd inherited.
Either way, how were they aiming to protect me?
"White?" Red said worriedly. "Are you alright?"
Red's eyes searched my face. "I probably did this wrong," he told me.
"You want to know why I came back." It wasn't a question, but a statement.
I nodded.
Red looked around nervously as Pikachu climbed on to his arm, crawling up his shoulder. "I thought about coming back several times," he confessed. "When I heard about you starting about your journey, I wondered if you would battle as a strategist or go out on the offensive, using defense if necessary. I heard about Cheren and Bianca, and I kind of wondered if Cheren and you would . . ."
I narrowed my eyes. "Skip the boy talk," I said curtly. "I want to hear your excuses, no matter what order they're in."
Red smirked. "You're pretty impatient," he observed.
I frowned. "I don't like people beating around the bush."
Red shrugged his shoulders. "You look a lot like Platina, but you have my personality," he commented. "I wasn't worried about Cheren, because at least that was a childhood crush of yours. You were, like . . . five?"
"What were you worried about?" I said curiously, in spite of myself.
"Ghetsis," he answered. "I found out he operated in Unova, with six BFFs the Sages. They always did follow him around like lost puppies. I remember meeting them when I visited Platina back at the Villa . . . although what had happened back then, your mother sure isn't proud of it.
"When you came home and told Platina about how you foiled his plans, I was happy but unsure. Both of us knew Ghetsis always had a back-up plan." Red's face darkened. "Three weeks ago, I travelled to Vermillion City, with Blue serving as my escort. Then Gorm appeared out of nowhere – was it Gorm? Twenty years ago, all of them were fat – except for Ghetsis."
In spite of myself, I howled with laughter. "Yeah, it was Gorm," I confirmed. "So, he was telling the truth after all."
"He wanted to fight me," Red continued, "but Blue said I had a duty, which was to you and Platina. I said I wanted to help. However, Blue had to show off and defeat Gorm. Then your mother phoned me while I was reaching Unova. She was heartbroken, saying Ghetsis had found out the truth and telling me about the deal she had struck with him.
"I sent Platina her Pokemon, wishing her luck. Then I called Drayden – an acquaintance I met at an exhibit back at Blackthorn City ten years ago – telling him about everything." Red buried his face in his palms, slipping the spiky portions of his hair through his fleshy crevices. "I could've rode Aerodactyl, but I wasn't thinking clearly. I got off in Castelia City, and . . . I made it to Opelucid City within twelve hours. White . . . all Platina and I ever wanted was for you to be happy and free from the burden of Platina's family history. Now, Ghetsis knows you are related to Platina and will -"
"How am I tied to their past?" I cut across him. "If you love me, tell me!"
"The Nameless Stone," Red replied. "I want Ghetsis to pay for everything he did during those twenty years, We're lucky Ghetsis hasn't found the God Stone or the Void Stone. From everything I've learned, the God Stone's said to be connected to Arceus, Palkia and Uxie while the Void Stone is connected to Giratina and Azelf."
"Are the Houses of Levesque and Parthenos Black's descendants?" I asked swiftly.
"Yes," Red answered.
I stared at Red. "We need to find them," I vowed.
Red's face darkened. "We need to get ready for the Masquerade Dance, White."
Well, this whole conversation was very awkward.
"I want you to carry your Pokemon around with you," Red added as an afterthought.
"As if I wasn't going to stop doing that," I murmured, fluidly standing up.
Eyeing Red with disapproval, I wheeled around and stormed off toward the dwelling, dreading looking like a princess.
N's PoV.
(A couple of hours later)
I couldn't understand what came over me. I never used to care about how I'd looked, although I had realized women and girls were attracted to me as bees were to honey. Or was it bears to honey? Okay, I could settle for moths to flame. Like I even care, I said to myself, peering at my reflection as if I've never seen what I had looked like before.
I gave a crooked smile, half-wondering if the mirror would crack. Well, at least I knew where the bad luck came from that time. Vaguely, I pondered on how Team Plasma grunts had claimed on how gorgeous, handsome and seductively beautiful I was. Women . . . did they enjoy love or lust?
I was looking at a supposedly inhumanely beautiful sixteen-year-old boy, with a seemingly smooth, flawless fair complexion, with choppy, wrist-length tea green hair, large tufts of it wrapping around my earlobes, rumpled around the crown of my head. In my opinion, I believe my hair was uncanny to that of a rat's nest.
Consciously, I ran my fingers through the sheet of hair, noticing how fine it was to the touch. I withdrew my fingers, surveying the only physiological feature I was proud to have.
My vivid green eyes, reminding me of malachite, were narrow in setting. They used to exude innocence and purity, but now . . . they were glacial, exuding nothing but darkness originating from a broken heart.
Frowning, I peeled my tattered damp shirt off, revealing my slim, lean physique, my arms slightly muscular, my chest flat-muscled. I was 6'1", a couple of inches taller than Cheren and Red. Promptly, the other necklace I'd hidden – the bell shaped like a Menger Sponge – slapped against the base of my neck. Absently, I twirled it around with the tips of my fingers before releasing it, seeing it hit my neck.
"I hate masquerades," I said to myself, grateful Cheren wasn't around to make a snide comment at me or to slander and ridicule me. "What am I going to do about my hair?" I grasped a brush Iris was kind enough to lend me, attacking the mop with incredible speed.
"You have rather long hair," someone said from the doorway, making me jump. Swiveling around, I saw a retro Red leaning against the doorway, not wearing a facial mask, which was the whole point of this idiotic plan.
I told myself to remain calm. "Unlike some people, I never had the liberty of cutting my hair," I said, "but I was once content with the fact it made me stand out from the humans. Anyway, are you really the Red?" I tacked on, swinging the brush clockwise twice before slamming it atop the dresser.
Red flicked his bangs, giving a sunny grin. "Yeah," he said happily. "You want an autograph or what, N Harmonia?" Red strolled into the room, the loyal Pikachu glaring at me with disapproval.
I stood rigid. "That was Ghetsis's surname," I said stiffly. "I don't use it." Eyeing the white collared shirt dangling on the curved dresser handle, I plucked it from its resting place.
Red looked at me. "I knew your father -" he began to say.
I slapped the curved handle, holding the archaic shirt onto my forearm, fiddling with the buttons on my slacks. "Socialites," I muttered, turning a deaf ear toward Red. "I used to be one, although at least I never had to wear a tuxedo to any events Ghetsis attended." Looking over at Red, who was sprawled on a bed, stroking his Pikachu, I said, "Ghetsis isn't my father, 'cause he's all but dead to me."
I grasped the hanger, slipping the long-sleeved shirt off easily. Throwing my hair about, I inclined my chin before putting the dress shirt – very simple – on, glancing at my chest again. I mean, I'm glad White didn't walk in and see me without a shirt completely on. That would've been embarrassing.
"But something tells me you're not completely sure about that," Red observed. "You won't betray my daughter or your allies, but a part of you wants Ghetsis to become good. You resemble Ghetsis -"
I was halfway buttoning the third button when I lost all sensation in my fingers. Letting out a feral snarl, I said, "He has flaxen hair and dichromatic eyes. Also, he is overweight."
Red laughed. "When he was younger, he was skinnier," he assured me. "You probably act like your mother -"
My hands started shaking uncontrollably. "You say that as if you know her," I said without thinking. "If so, did Platina know her?" Fingers trembling, I fumbled with the rapidly-loosening third button, inserting it into the woven slot.
Red paled. "N, I said you probably act like your mother," he said defensively. "I never said I knew her."
Through the mirror, I saw Red roll his eyes in a White-esque way, thus causing me to smirk. "You're her dad, all right," I marveled, speedily continuing my tedious episode of buttoning a shirt supposedly fit for a tuxedo.
Red smiled. "I know I am," he said proudly. "Even though we're talking, can I tell you something?"
I stared at the cuffs of my shirt, gaping. I was already sickened of the fact I had to head to the Temporal Festival and to a Masquerade Dance, which Bianca and Iris were all giggly about. Platina, though refined and cool as always, was obviously giddy about it as well. It didn't take a genius to figure out Platina and Red would dance together, possibly in a harmonious way.
"I never volunteered to talk with you," I reminded him crudely. "You'd practically invited yourself in without my permission -"
"Pika!" Pikachu was enraged at the disrespect I had dealt Red.
How delightful.
Red raised his eyebrows. "I'll tell you, anyway," he decided. "Actually, I have two things to say to you before I leave to get ready." Out of the corner of my eye, I examined Red rubbing his palms together, looking lovingly at Pikachu, who jumped onto Red's torso, laughing heartily.
"I also want to say something, too," I said tonelessly. "In fact, make those two statements I want to make rather clear."
As I buttoned the last one, I straightened out my collar before staring at my reflection with disgust. Sighing heavily, I flattened the folds of the collar downward, pressing lightly but firmly against my collarbone, ensuring the flaps were perfectly aligned and creased right. I felt my hair slithering into the shirt, much to my dismay. Positioning my hand between the nape of my neck and the air, I lifted my hair upward, the bottommost portion descending to the surface. Satisfied, I flipped my hair before allowing it to cascade down my back, absentmindedly shrugging my shoulders.
Red scowled. "You're boorish and demanding," he observed.
"I think I heard that already," I said coolly, "but it's nice to hear observations from others. It shows how much the world thinks of me." I peered at my cuffs, furrowing my brows.
I needed my Poke Balls. I also needed to release Dragonite, because I preferred having five Pokemon with me, not six. Plus, I required a mask, belt and the revolting vest I hated to think about wearing tonight. I need to blend in, though, I hastily reminded myself.
"And you're rude," Red growled.
I flicked my hand. "I know that already," I responded. "Besides, doesn't boorish and rude mean the same thing?"
Red ignored me. "Platina disagrees with me. But I think you're dangerous, being Ghetsis's son."
I smirked. "You say that as if I'm a security risk or something." I fiddled with the cuff on my left hand, carefully sliding the button into the slot. "Well, you're pretty judgy, Red."
Red sneered. "I'm only saying what I see," said Red crossly. "I've never been judgmental."
I scowled. "Ghetsis and I are two different people," I snapped. "I made a costly mistake, but I'm not dumb enough to side with Ghetsis again. People change, you know."
"I never said that you were -" Red began.
"As for you trusting or respecting me," I interrupted. "I don't expect you to do that, which is fine by me."
"Now who's being judgy?" Red said airily. "White may believe in, trust and respect you. Platina believes in you doing the right thing, to a lesser extent. I do believe in second chances, but you were tempted before by the darkness. How do I know you won't betray us, especially my daughter?
"I'm not saying you can't be useful," Red said quickly. "Even though I haven't been in White's life, I don't like her being involved with a Harmonia -"
I'd just completed the buttoning ritual when I heard Red's comment. Involved? I thought angrily. I'm starting to hate this man.
I procured another hanger, which had the vest (hideous as I expected) and the facial mask dangling from it. "If I use a barrette . . . I'll be too easy to pinpoint," I said thoughtfully. "I must be cleverer than a fox." Ripping the vest away from the hanger, I said calmly, "So, you're saying I'm romantically involved with her?"
Red threw daggers at me. "It seems you like her," he said disapprovingly. "I want to relax . . . but with evil around, I don't know how easy that would be."
"That's where you're wrong," I said coldly. "White and I are friends."
"I don't even like that, either," he replied. "My first point is that I don't like your relationship with my daughter."
"Shouldn't White determine whether we're friends or not?" I challenged Red. "Are you being a world-class jerk or giving me a warning, Red?"
Pikachu jumped off Red, allowing the man to sit up. "I came here to deliver a warning," he said harshly. "The last thing I want is for her to get hurt because of you."
I slapped the vest against the air, staring at it with disgust. "That won't happen," I promised.
"Pika!" Pikachu agreed.
Rolling my eyes, I straightened my back, furrowing my brows. With a flourish, I easily slid my arms into the sleeves, flinging my hair out of the way so it wouldn't sink into the tuxedo. "Okay, can I ask you my question?"
Nervously, I darted my eyes to the clock, noticing thirty minutes had passed by whilst Red was delivering his warning, albeit it had felt like several minutes.
Red kind of made me feel intimidated and unnerved. But I was too proud to admit that to him or anyone else, for that matter.
Shaking my head, I pushed the thought away to the corners of my mind. As long as White doesn't hate me, everything's fine by me, I thought, nodding my head at this fact. I didn't find it bothersome that everyone resented or hated me. In truth, White's friendship with me was all I really needed, and if Red, Platina, Bianca or Cheren tried to jeopardize my friendship/partnership with White, I wouldn't let them.
If I resorted to violence, then maybe I was dangerous like Red thought I was. Then, I would be a true security risk. Other than that, I failed to grasp the idea of what defined me as dangerous.
"Okay, your comment," Red invited.
"It's not a comment," I said, "but a mere observation. You see, I was born with telepathy."
"White mentioned that," Red remembered, "but it was only in passing."
"Well, I couldn't help noticing . . . your Pikachu isn't confined in a Poke Ball, although he holds a lot of respect and love for you." I gripped the folded portions of the vest, pulling them up, scanning the material for any signs of imperfection. "If I were still King of Team Plasma, then I would be most impressed that your views of Pokemon being confined are akin to mine."
Red was pokerfaced. "Pikachu hates being confined in a Poke Ball," he informed me. "Why should I force him to be locked away where he doesn't want to be? He should be happy, not miserable."
I chortled. "In a way, the notion's admirable yet sad at the same time. Did you ever feel that maybe your other Pokemon had felt envious of Pikachu and perhaps wished to be free as he was at one point?"
Red's face twisted with rage. "That's the difference between you and me," he said, "because I didn't force them to do anything, okay? They never complained or expressed jealousy about Pikachu, and I'm thankful for that."
I straightened my vest, nodding my head. "White opened my eyes, so you don't need to worry about me being tempted by the darkness, all right? I've said this to Cheren: I want to right all of my wrongs, Red." I dangled both hangers by the tips of my fingers, before spotting the twin ebony gloves, fitting for medieval times.
Throwing the hangers atop the dresser, I picked up the gloves, sighing. As fast as thought, I slipped both of them on, recognizing the material to be made from vinyl or perhaps something close to it. Noticing that my necklace was under the layers of clothes, I took it out, lowering over my borrowed collared shirt. "I need a belt, a tie and then . . . I have to put on this mask," I said, rolling my eyes. I grasped the Poke Balls, thrusting them into my pockets.
"Do you have any idea what your necklace represents?" Red piped up.
I'd almost forgotten he was on his second and final question/statement, followed suit by mine.
"This?" I snaked my fingers around the string, allowing it to flow between the gloved ravines my hands had crafted. "I used to wear this Menger Sponge on a belt a couple of weeks ago. You know, my mother gave this to me – a keepsake of hers." I dropped the necklace, which banged against my chest.
Red had a look of comprehension on his face, as if he recognized the bell I sported around my neck, serving as a substitute pendant. I directed my eyes over to the dresser, hoping to find a dark tie or belt. To my dismay, nothing leaped out.
"Here's a belt and a tie," Red called from behind me.
I wheeled around, just in time for me to catch the objects Red was launching at me.
I nodded to show my gratitude before turning around.
"What about my pendant?" I pressed him. "You act as if you've seen this particular one before." I was suspicious indeed. While I was waiting for Red to answer, I'd put the belt on.
Red's face darkened. "It suits you," he said, ignoring my comment. "You talk too fast, and I feel as if I'm being punched with words. At times, you speak in riddles. But you usually have a double meaning behind every sentence, which is why I can't trust you."
I smirked. "Everyone says that about me," I said, "but I don't understand that at all."
"That's a Menger Sponge," Red continued. "I used to have a friend who wore a Menger Sponge that resembled yours greatly. But that friend of mine is gone now."
I wrapped the tie around my neck, gritting my teeth. I'd always believed this would be the most difficult part, because . . . "I don't want a tie on." Frustrated, I tossed it aside, already upset about the Masquerade Dance at the Temporal Festival. "I hope they sell hats there," I added, remembering my promise to White.
I flicked my hair, staring at the mask. Taking it off the hook, I experimentally brought it close to the bridge of my nose, blinking. I fought the sudden urge to laugh at how ridiculous I'd appeared. "Anyway, I think I'd completely forgotten what I wanted to ask you," I lied, pleased at how convincing it was to me.
Red was fooled.
"For an ally of mine . . . I also think you're selfish and self-loving. C'mon, Pikachu!" Red leaped off the bed, cracking a grin. "Dancing, food and games . . . I'll spend time with my family after so long! I wonder if Platina's ready. Women take quite a while to get ready."
I sighed, sliding the mask upon my face. I want to take this off, I thought, wheeling away from the mirror.
Platina came in, staring at Red and me. "You need this," Platina said, waving a facial mask around.
Red pried it free, chagrined. "I'd rather battle than dance," he admitted. "You're lucky -"
Platina wrapped her arms around Red's neck.
Their lips met.
"Get a room," I mumbled.
In spite of myself, I looked up, staring at Platina.
I was awestruck at how she portrayed herself.
Platina donned a silvery-white strapless dress, flowing elegantly to the ground. I distinctly saw platinum white stilettos, splashed with silvery-white stones underneath the translucent hem. The train of her dress shimmered platinum gray, appearing as if it took a bath in liquid moonlight. Around her waist was a shiny midnight blue bow, matching her hair color, a pearl fixed to the middle. Platina had elbow-length gloves corresponding with the bow, heavily interlaced with pearls, luminous in the semi-darkness. Around her neck was a pearl with a platinum-esque setting, serving as both necklace and pendant. Her ears had three semi-transparent pale gray beads. Atop her head was a sterling silver crown, obviously holding her hair in place. She sported a simple midnight black mask.
"You're a knock-out," Red said nervously. "I prefer everyday Platina, though."
Platina rolled her eyes. "Were you lecturing N?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't do that to him, Red. He isn't Ghetsis, so you don't have to worry. Besides, if White trusts him, shouldn't you make an effort to as well?"
Red didn't answer. "Where's White, Bianca and Iris? And Cheren?" he added swiftly. "You did remember to bring your Pokemon with you in case Ghetsis wants to crash the festival, right?"
"Cheren's with Iris while Bianca's bringing White here to this room," Platina responded. "I have my Pokemon with me, love. Who do you take me for?"
"I thought Iris and Bianca were like this." I clasped my hands together before breaking them apart. "I want to see how ridiculous Cheren looks."
"Behave," Platina warned. "We will leave Opelucid City in the morning, although if Ghetsis, the Shadow Triad, the Sages or Team Plasma finds us, we'll defend ourselves and depart Opelucid before daybreak at the earliest."
Red smiled. "Let the boys make fun of each other," he suggested.
"Do I have to control you as well?" Platina hissed. "You've already made White upset and now you might be on N's bad side. Did you channel Blue's spirit or what?"
"I look ridiculous," White said out of the blue. "How come I couldn't head to the Masquerade Dance as myself?" White had her temper as usual.
"Ummm . . . you look pretty, White," Bianca insisted. "Cheren and Iris agree with me."
"FYI," White said, apparently exasperated. "Cheren just stared at me for one second and . . . NO, NOT IN THERE!"
Bianca and White burst into being, Bianca's flaxen hair interlaced with a hair clip comprising of three sparkling golden roses, the edges gilded with gold. Her mask was golden brown, corresponding with her simple dress, not as elegant as Platina's, yet it sufficed for Bianca. Bianca had hooped earrings, clattering against her jawline. Unlike Platina, Bianca had a v-shaped neckline, decorated with rhinestones. A glistening golden choker was on her neck. Unlike Platina, Bianca's wrists had three sets of beaded bracelets, shining brilliantly. Her dress was more modern than Platina's, yet it could be considered behind the times as well.
Bianca was clasping onto a gloved hand, no doubt belonging to White, although she was doing her utmost to conceal White from Red, Platina and I. "You don't look that bad," Bianca assured White. "To be honest, you don't need a manicure, pedicure or new hairstyle. All of the guys would be begging for you to dance with them, even ours."
"I don't think so," Red said flatly.
"For heaven's sake, don't act so overprotective at this moment," Platina chided. "White, surely you don't look that horrible, darling. Why don't we take a look?"
"Promise you won't laugh," said White viciously. "I know I look like a clown."
Bianca smiled. "So, is that a yes, White Snow?" she teased her.
"Electra," Red said underneath his breath.
White said nothing.
Not trusting myself to speak, I delved my hand into my pocket, extracting Zekrom's Ultra Ball.
I had a feeling something big might go down tonight.
"READY? SET! GO!" Bianca roared, steering White into the midst.
As soon as White came into my view, my mouth dropped.
I was fortunate Zekrom's Ultra Ball landed smoothly into my palm, because the disaster would've been horrendous.
"Change," Red insisted. "You look . . ." His face spoke differently.
"Pretty?" Platina offered.
"Beautiful?" White supplied, shielding her face.
"Beyond description?" Bianca sang.
I was speechless.
"White . . ." I took a step forward, regaining mobility. "None of those words suit you," I said unthinkingly.
White lowered her hands, twitching. "I know Your Majesty has something stupid to say," she said, "so say it."
"You look like a princess," I said shortly.
Red wheeled around.
I was dead.
A/N: "Red" is finished. Read and Review! I wonder what White looks like, hmm? I do know a Ferriswheelshipping moment's coming next chapter, but what about Ghetsis? I want feedback and constructive criticism, although I can promise you the action will return next chapter.
This chapter has been reedited and some content has been changed to fit the changes from last plot remains largely unchanged. The reason for these chapters being edited is to lure in potential readers for this book and its upcoming sequel, Eventide.
Edited On: 11/02/15