Disclaimer: For the seventeenth time, I don't own Pokemon. That right belongs to Nintendo. At least I own the fanfic. I also do not own the fashion. By the way, why is everything more expensive at a festival? Okay, I do own the OC.
A/N: I loved the reviews/feedback and constructive criticism. I hope for more, but no flaming!
A/N: I meant ebony. I thank the reviewer for pointing out that mistake. No matter how tired I was, I should've taken the time to proofread. That goes for sentence structure as well.
A/N: I kind of implied scene transition, although I should've been clearer about where the main characters were, so I should pay attention to that more, and not worry about the chapters being too long. I just didn't want you all ultimately losing interest.
A/N: One of my reviewers correctly deduced why I have N or White narrate the last paragraphs of a chapter, and then have White or N narrate what had happened from their PoV in the following chapter: Whatever White thinks is too trivial to include in the last few paragraphs of her narration, N feels it's important, and vice versa.
A/N: There will be references to Generation I/III, Generation IV and Pokemon Black from time to time. I still need to play Pokemon White, though! X)
A/N: This is the last time I would describe a character's (White's) clothing in full detail.
A/N: I guess I'll split the Temporal Festival incident into two chapters.
White's PoV.
After Red and I had our awkward talk, we went back to Iris's and Drayden's dwelling, N and Cheren bickering with each other. Then N traipsed up the stairs, slamming the nearest door behind him. I could've sworn I heard the portraits and tapestries rattle slightly before ceasing.
Cheren said Bianca left with Iris to prepare for the Temporal Festival and should be back in about an hour. When I suggested that Cheren should apologize to N, he refused, causing me to snap at him.
My mother conversed with Red and Drayden before departing to her room, Red following suit.
So it was only Cheren, Drayden and I on the ground floor, waiting for Iris and Bianca to return from their little adventure from my worst nightmare, the beauty salon.
After about an hour and a half, Drayden left Cheren and I in order to get dressed himself.
I was about to strike up conversation with Cheren when Iris and Bianca waltzed in, beaming. As usual, Bianca showed off her fingernails and toenails. To my shock, Bianca was already wearing the heels to her dress, and so was Iris.
Cheren said he was going to get ready, leaving the three of us behind.
Bianca and Iris, zealous about the night ahead of us, went to Iris's room without even asking me if I wanted to come or not
I was relieved about them not asking me before Iris came downstairs less than an hour later, almost dressed retro.
She told me I was going retro, even further back than Red, Drayden, Bianca, Cheren, N and she.
Knowing Bianca had sent Iris to retrieve me, I agreed to go upstairs. The only reason I'd cooperated with Iris was because I didn't want to be at Bianca's mercy. If you want some advice, I beg of you not to make Bianca Grace pissed off, because you don't want to experience her wrath firsthand.
Approximately two hours later, Iris, Bianca and I were in Iris's bedroom, Bianca and Iris dressed in passable imitations of socialites stepping out of the 18th and 19th centuries respectively.
On the contrary, I was still preparing myself to look exactly like a socialite from a bicentennial ago.
Bianca was clad in bold colors, such as golden brown and gold. Even though she was pretty in the dress, her gown had a modern feel to it, compared to mine.
Iris was wearing a simple plum purple dress, her hair free of the ponytails. For the first time, I'd realized Iris's hair was naturally straight, fanning out at the ends. The mask was the same color as her dress, and so were her forearm-high gloves.
"I was fine with the way I'd looked," I repeated myself. "Bianca, Iris . . . All of this outerwear and undergarments is killing me. Thank God I have my Running Shoes on."
I smirked at that.
Both Bianca and Iris ignored me.
N would make fun of me while Red would probably act as if he cared about what I looked like, I thought, peeved. Though Red had seemed genuinely sorry about his absence, I didn't have the capability to forgive him or accept his apology, whether he had given one or not.
"Help me with the back, Iris," Bianca said, looking at Iris.
I peered at the ovular mirror. My hair was, smoothed and waved, parted in the middle, with a hint of a low bun positioned against the nape of my neck. On the bright side, I had no crown, no earrings and no necklace/choker to show off. Personally, I thought jewelry was too gaudy.
All I had as a fashion accessory was the stupid brace Red had put on me earlier while we were in a nearby park, surveying the people already dressed retro or on their way to become retro.
Iris, who was shutting the closet door, whirled around, the train of her dress floating a couple inches from the ground. "You know, you really should wear high heels with that dress of yours, White," said Iris.
I gave a derisive snort. "I don't think -" Bianca stepped out of the way, allowing Iris to examine the small of my back. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" I yelled.
Iris was holding translucent snowy white cording in her hands belonging to my evening dress.
"Hold still," she requested. "Actually, hold the mirror."
Before I could protest, Iris started to weave the cording in and out of the corset, trying to mold it to the size of my waist and to increase the rigidity.
Let me tell you right now: Don't take breathing for granted, because it's a luxury.
I don't know how long it took. I just remembered holding on to the sides of the mirror for dear life. As I heard the cording make a whipping sound, I gritted my teeth, trying not to scream from the lack of breathing and the excessive weight I had upon my back.
"Can't – b-breathe," I stammered, gasping whenever Iris slid the cording into the holes, tightening my corset even more each time. Absently, I kicked the sturdy crinoline with my Running Shoes and almost lost my balance.
When I recovered, Bianca came over to me, smiling knowingly. "So you're perfectly fine with those shoes of yours?" she asked me. "You could do with pumps, high heels, stilettos or -"
I glared at my friend through the looking glass, my eyebrows knitting together. "Yes," I said stubbornly. To my ecstasy, Iris ceased her agonizing process of making me look elegant and stunning. "Why are you asking me if I'm fine with my Running Shoes?"
I released my iron grip on the mirror, my breathing ragged. As slowly as I could, I brought myself up to my original stance. How can the socialites handle this baggage? I wondered. Seriously, I am not a camel.
Bianca shrugged her shoulders. "You're having difficulty with the dress . . . If it didn't look so good on you, then I would wear it," she added seriously. "White, no offense, but you're clumsy big time."
Iris stepped away from me, instructing for me to look at my reflection.
Reluctantly, I did so.
To be honest, I didn't know if I was beautiful or not: My dress really brought out the color of my eyes along with the plain square-shaped shawl, the short ruffled sleeves. The low neckline was snowy white, the same shade as the cording Iris had used to constrict my corset.
"I look . . ." I couldn't find anything to describe my appearance. All I wanted was to take off this costume.
"Beautiful," Bianca breathed.
"I think so, too," Iris agreed. "Everyone would want to dance with you because of how pretty you look. Or they would say back then, lovely."
Bianca made her famous timeout gesture. "What about the mask?" She produced an opaque mask, large enough to conceal my eyes and forehead.
I rolled my eyes. "Let Red, Cheren, Mother and N judge for themselves," I said, slowly turning around. The train of my dress pooled onto the pale purple carpeting, my back feeling heavy from the bustle and crinoline. "Give me a fan and – and I'll be okay," I insisted.
Suddenly, there was a rapping at the door.
"Come in," Iris invited.
The door swung open, revealing a pensive Cheren, clad in a midnight blue tuxedo and wearing a matching mask. "Platina says I don't look that bad, Bianca," he said to her, "but since you're head of the Fashion Police, I should hear your opinion." Looking at Iris, he said, "Fraxure, Haxorus and Druddigon are all set and ready to go."
Wheeling around – which was hard – I examined Bianca, her eyes alight with happiness. "Platina was so right!" she exclaimed. "Cheren, you look like a gentleman. Well . . . you always were," she amended. "I think I want to dance with you, Mr. Kurosaki." Bianca bent down easily, holding her hand out invitingly while dangling my mask with the tips of her fingers.
I envied Bianca for having the freedom to move around, while I had to be walking around Opelucid City's streets, looking as if I'd stepped out of the pages of a storybook.
Cheren smiled. "Hold that thought." He directed his gaze to me, his mouth inadvertently popping open, creating a comical O. "Miss Snow, you look . . ." For once, Cheren was at a loss of words.
Clasping my hands together, cringing from the temporary pang of pain in my right hand, I sauntered over to Cheren, wearing a small smile. "Stupid?" I offered. "Stunning? Pretty? Beautiful? Ladylike? Or maybe beyond description?" My tone had a dangerous edge to it, but it seemed Cheren didn't notice.
Unlacing my fingers, I gripped the billowy skirt, lifting it a couple of inches from the carpet.
Cheren averted his eyes.
"C'mon, say it!" Bianca commanded.
"She's pretty, right?" Iris pressed Cheren, lacing her hands together. "Please . . ."
Sighing, Cheren clapped his bare hand to his forehead, his fringed bangs sliding through his gloved fingers. "White . . . you look great," he admitted. "I don't know about stunning, though."
Cheren advanced over to me, pensive. "You three could do with purses." Cheren lifted up his arm; three purses the same shades as Iris's, Bianca's and my dresses dangling upon it.
Bianca and Iris sauntered over to Cheren, plucking their respective purses from his arm.
"I want my backpack," I said. "My clothes and everything else are packed in there. But if I can carry my Pokemon in this thing, then I'll take it." I snatched the purse from Cheren, eyeing it with revulsion.
As cautiously as I could, I swung the purse onto my shoulder. I turned around, seeing my backpack propped against the antique oak wardrobe, appearing as if it were brand-new. Releasing my hand from the skirt, I grabbed the backpack and unzipped it.
Cheren cleared his throat. "I'll be happy to escort one of you downstairs," he said in a passable imitation of a genuine socialite. "Check that: Only Bianca or Iris can come downstairs with me."
I ignored him. How was I at fault? If Cheren wasn't prideful, then he would realize he was at fault, not the other way around. Hey, I admit I have my hubristic moments, but at least my pride doesn't control me. I know when to put my pride aside.
As I mulled over Cheren's closed-mindedness, I conjured a Poke Ball from the backpack.
A second later, I produced a Master Ball, then a Dusk Ball, a Timer Ball, another Poke Ball and a Repeat Ball. Zipping up my backpack, I heard Iris say, "I'll be honored."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cheren extending his hand out, just as the men do in romance novels or in the movies.
Iris rushed over, jubilant at the invitation.
To my dismay, their arms intertwined together.
"HOW COME YOU DIDN'T CHOOSE ME?" Bianca roared, hurt.
I flipped the hideous purse open, pouring Tornadus, Reshiram, Samurott, Cobalion, Zebstrika and Simisear into the interior.
"Bianca, escort White to Platina, Red and His Majesty the Moron," Cheren told Bianca. "Be down in ten, okay?"
I slung my backpack onto my shoulders. I whirled around just in time to see Cheren escorting Iris out of her room, the tail from his tuxedo whisking out of sight.
"He's so going to -" Bianca paused, searching the purse, "Okay, he put Stoutland, Chandelure, Emboar, Musharna, Simisage and Mienshao in this purse, so I'm fine about Iris being with him!"
I held onto the skirt, examining the way it swayed back and forth gently. "How retro can I get?" I said aloud.
Bianca laughed. "Don't you want to impress N?"
"Aren't you the same with Cheren?" I returned slyly.
Bianca laced her fingers around my arm, dragging me towards the door. Despite my efforts to shake her hand off, it was baseless.
When Bianca steered me out of the bedroom, I was about to remind her about closing the door when she made a left turn. A door was ajar at the end of the corridor, dim light streaming out.
As Bianca and I walked over, I heard my mother, Red and N wrapped up in a conversation, N sounding slightly uncomfortable.
I didn't want to be around Red again, so I attempted to shake Bianca's hand off. "Bianca, we can meet them downstairs," I said hopefully, mentally crossing my fingers.
"You just don't want to see Red," said Bianca shrewdly. "C'mon, your third bestie's in there! Ummm . . . I mean your boyfriend," Bianca sang.
"He's not my boyfriend."
Bianca shook her head. "Whatever."
She tugged on my arm, forcing me to lean forward slightly.
I didn't trip, thanks to the crinoline.
"Do I have to control you as well?" my mother said angrily. "You've already made White upset, Red. Now you might be on N's bad side! Did you channel Blue's spirit or what?"
Red and N said nothing to plead their case.
Tears flowing down from my eyes, I said shrilly, "I LOOK RIDICULOUS! HOW COME I COULDN'T HEAD TO THE MASQUERADE DANCE AS MYSELF?"
Bianca stiffened. "Ummm . . ." She started ambling over to the door, the room suddenly becoming silent due to my random outburst. "You look pretty, White," Bianca said, smiling. "Cheren and Iris agreed, too."
"FYI," I responded. "Cheren just stared at me for one second and . . ."
Bianca loped over to the door, her heels creating a clattering sound against the tiled floor.
I became aware of the fact my skirt fanned out behind me, possibly revealing my shoes. Is Bianca possessed or what? I smiled at that.
She halted in front of the door, pressing her hand against it. Responding to her touch, the door instantly opened wider. "Get behind me," she whispered.
"NO, I'M NOT GOING IN THERE!" I protested, although I hid myself from Red, my mother and N just as Bianca asked.
Bianca's hand explored my arm, eventually linking her fingers with mine. "You don't look that bad," she said soothingly. "To be honest, you don't even need a manicure, pedicure or a new hairstyle! All of the guys would be begging for you to dance with them, even ours," she added quietly. Before I knew it, Bianca and I stepped afoot in the doorway.
"I don't think so," said Red crossly.
He has no right to tell me what I can or can't do, I said to myself, grinding my teeth. If I wanna dance with Cheren, N or some other hot guy, Red can't stop me! I only hope Mother would back me up, but I dunno . . .
". . . . Why don't we take a look, White?" my mother said suddenly.
I didn't even realize I had zoned out.
I pouted. "Promise me you won't laugh. I look like a clown."
"So is that a yes, White Snow?" Bianca asked, thrilled.
Seriously, why can't I dress in a tuxedo? I wondered, my back aching.
"Electra," Red corrected.
Although White Electra was probably my birth name, I wanted to be known as White Berlitz or White Snow. Even though Red had fathered me, I would never be his daughter. For God's sake, what was my mother thinking when she forgave him?
I seriously felt as if I were a hypocrite. Could I forgive Red? My mother always did say to me that forgiving was divine.
I had forgiven N, but that was different.
"READY? SET! GO!"
Bianca twirled me around with difficulty, before letting go of my hand.
Ta-da, I thought.
I eyed N, whose jaw dropped open.
The Ultra Ball he was absentmindedly throwing up and down fell into his palm at an awkward angle.
Red was obviously impressed, although he reeled it in. "Change," he told me. "You look . . ."
"Pretty?" my mother breathed.
"Beautiful?" I offered, instantly shielding my face with my palms.
"Beyond description?" Bianca sang.
"White," said N dreamily. "None of those words suit you."
Lowering my hands, I gave N another glare. "I know Your Majesty has something stupid to say. So, say it already."
Twitching, I tenderly folded my hands, taking enormous care to correctly lace my fingers together. Ignoring the throbbing, I pressed my hands against my abdomen.
N shook his head. "You look like a princess."
Red, who was surveying my outfit, wheeled around and stared at N.
N took several steps back, grimacing.
I sighed.
Let the games begin.
Chapter 16: A Night to Remember Part I
N's PoV.
I expected Red to rant on about how I was hitting on White, which would've been wrong. The only thing I was thinking about at that moment was how breathtakingly beautiful she was to me. In fact, I couldn't categorize what was pretty or what was beautiful. It felt wrong to call her any word synonymous with beautiful, so I could only come up with the compliment of her resembling a princess.
Out of Platina, White, Iris and Bianca, White always stood out. Even the evening dress she was wearing was dazzling and perfect on her.
To everyone's surprise, Red admitted that he thought I would call White hot or sexy, which was far from my mind. Whenever I thought of hot, flames, infernos, blazes and fires came to my mind, not the physical attractiveness of a woman or a girl. I also believed sexy was too strong of a lustful and derogatory word to describe a woman or a girl, but that was just my opinion.
I felt excited when White became appeased by my compliment, even going as far as looking flattered.
Red, oblivious to these turn of events, thanked me for complimenting his daughter, but it still didn't change his correct deduction of me.
Well, I thought his opinion was biased, not righteous. However, a deduction was based on speculation, so it would be fortuitous if Red's deduction turned out to be correct.
I was pretty sure that if I corrected Red, he would take things out of proportion. So I decided against it, preferring to tune him out.
Anyway, he was pretty damn close to venturing over to my bad side. I mean, if I had one.
I was pleased when Platina intervened, stopping the row between Red and I whilst Bianca placed White's mask on her face, bringing out her eyes.
"So?" White asked Red, frowning. "How do I look?"
Red laughed. "Like my daughter," he replied. "Pikachu, how about you dance with me?"
Platina's eyes flashed. "I'm your wife," she reminded him. "Shouldn't I have the honors of dancing with you, Red?" Hesitantly, she offered her hand, glaring at her husband.
If I had to flip a coin between Red's glare and Platina's glare being deadlier, it would definitely be a stalemate.
I consider myself lucky that Red's and my enmity toward each other ran both ways, with the exemption of protecting White, a very precious person to both of us. So far, that was the only thing keeping us from completely despising each other.
"Pika?" Pikachu gestured toward Platina, his ears jerking up and down impatiently. "Pi!"
Red smiled. "I'm only kidding," he assured his wife. "Platina, I choose you! I will always, always choose you when it comes to romance, okay? No need to get jealous, geez!" His eyes became affectionate when he gazed at Platina.
"I want my own boyfriend!" Bianca rushed out of the room, her shuffling footsteps echoing behind her.
While Red and Platina were acting all lovey-dovey, White hurled over, pretending to vomit.
I came to her side, gently bringing her up. "You're . . . wow," I admitted, grinning crookedly.
White's eyes glittered. "I need somebody to escort me not only downstairs, but to the Temporal Festival as well." She brought her chin up, wisps of her hairdo curling around her earlobes.
My heart started pounding.
"Umm . . ." I couldn't complete my sentence.
Let me tell you. White's retro appearance made me forget where I was. I'd completely forgotten my name was Natural Harmonia Gropius, King of Team Plasma. But even as King, I never sought for a female to be my princess or my queen. Three weeks ago, the title of King was taken away from me.
Now I was a teenager on the run from the tyrant Ghetsis Harmonia, who hated Platina Berlitz and Red Electra for reasons unknown. Would he even go as far as to charm White and I when we were unprotected by our "bodyguards"? He made it clear he despised both of us, albeit there had to be good inside his heart. I disagreed with everyone about their observations of Ghetsis, even though solid evidence of his wickedness was staring at me dead in the face.
"A date?" Red said from behind us.
I flinched. "It isn't like that," I told him.
"Pika," Pikachu disagreed.
Platina sighed. "First and foremost, I need somebody to escort me to the Masquerade Dance."
"I'll be more than happy to -" Red was cut off mid-sentence when Platina pressed her fingers against his mouth, absently tracing their shape. "You're a bit greedy," he observed.
Platina smirked, taking her fingers off his lips. "I have my reasons."
I sighed. "If you want to kiss, do it outside, please," I said, unable to bear Red hovering over me. "Besides, it isn't the nineteenth century, so -"
Red swerved around, coming face-to-face with me. "I know that," he said, "but can't you lighten up and have a little fun for once?" Red leered at me, skeptical. "As long as you don't -"
"Red!" Platina chided whilst White glowed red. "For heaven's sake, let's go outside! Drayden, Iris, Bianca and Cheren are waiting downstairs."
Red glanced at Platina. "Okay," he decided. "We need to discuss strategy, anyway."
Pikachu winked at Platina. "Pika!" he said, pretending to swoon before he fell down, Red stopping his descent. "Pi . . ." Pikachu seemed half-disappointed, half-crestfallen at Red's interference with his moment of fun.
Red held his arm out. "Shall we?"
Platina eagerly wrapped her arm around Red's, nodding happily. "Yes," she answered.
Together, they sauntered out of the guest room before Platina's compelling, remarkably appealing voice pierced the silence, her words hard to discern. They seem so happy together, I noted. Taking advantage of the awkward moment, I slung my knapsack onto my shoulders whilst, regarding White with an amazed look.
White wheeled around, beaming. "Mother came to the rescue," she said, relieved. "Well . . . this is so embarrassing, but I seriously need somebody to be my escort to the Temporal Festival." The sunny smile dissolved from her face.
I averted my eyes. "Ask Cheren," I suggested.
Right when I said that, I felt infuriated at the mere notion of White selecting Cheren over me. I could tell Cheren liked both Bianca and White, save it was more obvious he had a crush on White.
My first point is that I don't like your relationship with my daughter. Red's declaration was simultaneously solemn and harsh. When he'd delivered those words to me, I immediately started to develop an immense dislike for him. He'd also stirred my innermost insecurities and heavily damaged my confidence, almost taking it from me.
White raised her eyebrows. "Mr. Harmonia, can you pretend as if we live in the nineteenth century?" she said sweetly. In fact, it was a little too sweetly.
I rolled my eyes. "We live in the twenty-first century," I said, "so let's act like . . ." My voice died in my throat while recalling Red's demand for me to lighten up for once and have some fun.
White batted her eyelashes. "Please?"
She was making this very difficult for me.
I sighed. "I'll do my best," I conceded. "But I don't like being called Harmonia." Unthinkingly, I balled my hands into fists. "So, call me Mr. N." My hands loosened up.
White cleared her throat. "Mr. N," she began. "Mr. Kurosaki is upset with me, so he has refused to escort me." She unfolded her hands before folding them again, but this time, she chose to press them against the small of her back. "I wonder what would happen if he did offer -"
As I stashed the Ultra Ball away in my pocket, I'd noticed White was strolling up and down, bowing her head. Was it just me or did White want me to be her escort? She had to be jesting.
"I wouldn't like it if he offered," I replied. "White, get to the point, will you?"
White looked up, sighing. "This isn't how a man invited a woman to a dance back then, right?" She sounded frustrated at me not accepting her request.
I ignored her snide comment. "Okay . . ." As White walked past me, the intoxicating scent of lavender emitting from her mane had entered my nostrils. I did everything in my willpower not to become spellbound at this seemingly critical moment. "White . . . do-you-want-me-to-escort-you-to-the-Temporal-Festival?" I said without breathing.
White giggled. "Can you say that again?" She wheeled around, winking.
"White, do you want me to be your escort to the Temporal Festival?" I said slowly.
Why was she acting like a temptress? It wasn't fair.
White chortled. "Word it as a gentleman and I'll consider it," she answered.
Unbelievable, I thought. She's running true to form as a socialite.
"Miss Snow, it would be my pleasure to escort you to the Temporal Festival," I said gravely. "However, would you mind taking your hands off your back?"
For the second or third time (I'd lost count), White listened to me.
Anxiously, I ambled over to White, grasping her unbroken hand gently.
I felt my face burning. "Ummm . . ." I stared at the doorway, hoping Red wasn't in the doorway. Luckily, he wasn't.
I lowered my head down, planting a chaste kiss on her hand.
"N!" White yelled.
When I broke the kiss, I eyed White, her face glowing red big time.
I let go of her hand.
"I've always wanted to do that," I confessed, shrugging my shoulders. "I don't know why."
Nervously, I raised my arm upward, looking at White pleadingly. "I . . ."
She saved me from saying something stupid by linking her arm with mine. "If Mr. Kurosaki and you were to ask me to the Temporal Festival, I wonder who I will choose . . . ?"
I steered us out of the room, smirking all the while. "White, I feel weird calling you Miss Snow," I said truthfully, "but aren't you taking the retro look a little too seriously?"
White didn't glare at me for once. "Let's have fun for one night, okay?"
As soon as we made a left turn in the hallway, I'd discovered we were facing the flight of stairs I'd trudged on after my argument with Cheren concerning White. "Should I let go of you?" I asked politely, noticing Cheren and Red were near the doorway leading to the outdoors, eyeing me with revulsion and dislike.
"No," White declined. "This feels rather good."
"Are you sure?" I said hesitantly, "'cause I don't know if you're a stunt double of the White I grew to know or not."
White scowled. "I'm sure," she replied. "N, I have a question."
As I climbed down the first step, I averted my eyes. "I have an answer," I responded, tilting my chin up. I wouldn't put it past Cheren to take pictures of me behind my back, I thought bitterly.
White was astoundingly cooperating with me, because we were swiftly climbing down the stairs with no problem. "You're not tripping for once," I noticed.
A moan came from my right. "I'm holding on to the . . . whatever," White said faintly. "Mr. N, if you were to choose between Miss Grace, Miss Iris and I, who -?"
My mouth formed a thin line. "I'll tell you later."
We'd reached the bottom, looking at Drayden, Red, Cheren, Platina, Iris and Bianca. "I didn't mean to hold us up," I said apologetically. "Red and Platina, I didn't make out with her -"
Platina chuckled. "Whoever said I sided with Red on this?"
Bianca pouted. "Awwww . . . Well, at least you're going to be escorted by His Majesty -"
"Don't call me that," I said swiftly. "I want to be known as N, the boy without a last name."
"But you look so-sooooooooooooooooo cute together," Bianca went on, seemingly ignoring my request. "Does anyone have a camera?"
"NO!" White and I shouted at the same time.
Bringing my head back to its original stance, I said to White. "A couple of more hours and we're back to normal," I stated. "Whatever happens tonight, forget about it in the morning, you got it?" I dropped my voice to a whisper.
"Young love," Drayden breathed.
"Do they sell hats?" I asked him randomly.
"I'll buy one myself," White murmured.
"They sell everything!" Iris answered for Drayden. "I think this year they're raffling the Poke Ball necklace that's like 200,000,000 coins or 20,000,000 coins! I want it so badly!" Iris's eyes shone with longing. "Grandpa, please buy me a ticket. Please!"
"I have to admit it's very pretty," said White. "Seriously, I would wear it every day."
"You hate jewelry," I reminded her, not knowing how I knew this.
"Well, time's of the essence," Drayden told us all. "If Ghetsis appears, then at least we're all together -"
"He'll be doing all of us a favor if he brainwashed N again," Cheren said viciously.
I glowered at him.
"Bianca, would you like to be my date?" Cheren remarked. "Or – or – escort!"
Bianca laughed. "Sure thing," she accepted.
Iris, originally latching her arm on to Cheren's, ripped it free, stepping aside for Bianca to escort the dork to the Temporal Festival. "Now, who's cute together?" I called out.
Cheren made an obscene gesture whilst Bianca slapped her hand against his arm.
At least White chose me.
It had demonstrated our friendship aka partnership meant a lot more to her than she let on.
Now, it was time for me to repay the favor.
White's PoV.
I seriously didn't understand why I chose N over Cheren. I'm not complaining or anything, because both of them were good-looking.
Boys were too confusing. If you ask me, I think they function at a way-different level than us females do. Of course, I've seen my share of mature guys, such as Cheren and N.
I was very pleased when N chose to accompany me downstairs. Cheren was still angry at me, causing me to deliberate whether if Cheren was really as smart as I'd believed him to be or he was just like any other guy.
I was even happier when we strolled out of the house, N still arm-in-arm with me.
"You're enjoying this very much," I observed, still adopting what was hopefully the outdated way of speaking during the nineteenth century.
N nodded. "I can smile for one night only," he replied. "Then I'm back to normal."
"Normal?" I said in a small voice. "The new N's so not you."
"He's so me," he retorted. "Do you want to know why?"
I didn't answer.
As we turned the corner, N continued, "When I think about the old me, I also think about the day. Dawn was my childhood. Though sad and dark, it was brighter and prettier than a diamond. When the sun rose, it marked the beginning of my promising reign as King N Harmonia. The morning . . . maybe it was sort of like the innocence I once had, shining so brightly. As noon approached, you came into my life along with Oshawott, making me question whether my aspiration of segregating Pokemon and mortals was right or not.
"Afternoon," N mused. "I think it could be the time when I'd become obsessed with challenging you, Hero to Hero. But by then, the day wasn't going my way. Then the sunset came and so did our epic battle -"
"You almost beat me," I admitted, eyeing several boys gazing at me with lustful and yearning eyes, which was downright offensive and sickening.
N rolled his eyes. "Can I finish my speech, White?"
"You always cut across me, though," I reminded him. "How's tonight any different?"
I stared at the hustle and bustle of Opelucid's citizens, their countenances exhilarated and expectant. The streets were flooded with women wearing dresses and men clad in tuxedos. All of them had androgynous masks on, covering only their foreheads and the upper part of their faces, just like us.
As we passed by the Pokemon Center, I'd noticed volunteers were decorating the sidewalks with false lamp lights, giving pamphlets to other individuals or bringing supplies and prizes to the festival.
"I can pretend to be who I'm not," N insisted. "Red did say for me to lighten up and have fun -"
I released a feral growl. "Red's nothing but a jerk," I said coldly. "Mother's insane to let him back in our lives. She acts as if he'd never left! I always thought Mother was wise and smart, but my respect -"
N smirked. "He's a world-class jerk," he corrected me.
I tore my eyes off the scenery, focusing on the end of the boulevard, where marquees of different shades towered over the sea of people, who either paused in front of them or walked straight past them without even giving so much as a look at what they were missing out on.
"Well, you were saying something about the sunset and how it reminded you of our battle," I recalled.
N's eyebrows knitted into one. "My dream died when the last rays of sunlight disappeared, leaving nothing behind but dusk. The dusk was when Ghetsis did what he did to me." His eyes swam with tears, as if he were going to cry about the painful memory. "That leaves us with twilight, White. The twilight was only the end of the old me and the beginning for the new me. Now, only the unknown and darkness -"
I shook my head. "I don't believe that," I said sharply. "You'd just revealed that the old N's down there somewhere in your heart. All you wanna do is to scare everybody away from you, but -" I paused, staring at Red, who was talking with my mother about his research, "but the one person who would never, ever leave your side is me. You're not gonna get rid of me that easily."
"Why?" he rumbled.
N and I waltzed past Cheren and Bianca, Cheren and N throwing dirty looks at each other. Bianca and I shrugged our shoulders, wondering what the hell we should do to stop N and Cheren from killing each other. Watch Cheren buy a knife and . . . Maybe . . . Okay, maybe he and N . . . Forget it, I thought, unhappy that I couldn't find humor in the situation. Whatever humor I had, it sure wasn't a dark and twisted sense of humor. Only fat people such as Ghetsis had that sense of humor. I wonder if he ever was Santa Claus for Christmas . . .
Seriously, if Ghetsis had ever dressed up as Santa Claus, he would totally ruin the holiday spirit. Well, if he ever had, he'd probably asked N what he wanted. Of course, N probably said he wanted to change the world and free Pokemon from human influence. Well, that was a late Christmas present indefinitely. Even if N was naughty or nice, Ghetsis won in the end.
I don't know why I was thinking about this. What did Ghetsis, a dark sense of humor and Christmas have anything to do with Cheren and N? Damn my scribble thinking.
Well, I'm pretty sure N never celebrated the holidays.
N and I walked onto a carpet the same color as dirt, covered with striations and grooves left behind by carriages from back in the day. "Wow!" I said, seeing a valet service in the form of a carriage passing by, being pulled by Zebstrika.
On the bright side, at least they weren't being whipped.
Of course, N had to extract something negative from this.
"It's one step from forced labor to being abused by the whip," he muttered. "Zebstrika and other equine Pokemon should roam the plains and fields, free of domestication."
"Relax," Drayden said from behind us. "We would never use a whip – real or fake – to force Zebstrika to go faster. That's harsh and inhumane, and Pokemon should be treated with respect, am I right?"
I nodded.
N stiffened. "They certainly must," he agreed. "I guess the old ideals of mine are resurfacing! I've got to keep this side of me under control." He looked around, muttering something about buying me a hat.
"Okay," I began. "I like this N better than the new one."
"It's only for one night," N reminded me. "That means I can take you out on rides . . . just like the Ferris wheel back in Nimbasa." His tone became dreamy.
"Why did you do that?" I pressed him. "I mean, ride the Ferris wheel with me."
N was silent for a while.
Every now and then, somebody would stop Drayden or Iris and beg for them to take photos with them or sign autographs. I vaguely wondered if somebody would stop Red, my mother and I, and beg us either for an autograph or to shoot photos.
"It seemed like a good idea at the time," N said finally.
I frowned. N can lie to everybody else, but he can't trick me, I thought viciously. Whatever his real motive was back in Nimbasa, I'd yearned to know. In fact, I had a compulsion with finding out the truth.
"You're lying," I said crossly.
N looked around, grimacing. "I'll tell you the real reason when we're alone, okay?"
"I can't wait that long," I whined.
N flicked his locks. "Well, your parents are around, so . . . Where are the hats and -?"
A masked portly man, about in his thirties, appeared into our midst. "Does the damsel-in-distress needs a hat?" he asked.
I frowned so deeply it might've permanently creased my face. "I'm not a damsel-in-distress!" I said loudly. "By the way, what kind of hats do you have?"
The man waddled over to his marquee, eventually squeezing into a mahogany stand. "All sorts of hats!" he exclaimed. "Do you want to try to win a hat, young lady? Or does the young man want to volunteer for his -?"
I unlocked my arm from N's. Staring at the man, I said calmly, "We're just friends, sir. There's nothing romantic about us. In fact -"
N stepped up to the stand. "That looks a lot like your hat." He was pointing at one of the shelves, stocked with ivory hats embossed with letters of the alphabet. "It might be a replica, though," he tacked on as an afterthought.
I picked up the edges of my dress, sauntering over to N, who had his knapsack atop the counter. "I have this Pokedex . . . everything from my trip abroad . . ."
I suddenly locked eyes with the man, feeling bad vibes. His eyes were familiar, although I couldn't recall where I'd seen them before. "We should go to another stand," I suggested, tearing my eyes off the mystery man.
The man chuckled. "The other stands don't sell hats as cheap as mine." He smiled, which looked more like a grimace. "Madam, your friend here can get you a hat for 175 coins."
"He has a point," Red said from behind me. "That's a good price."
I frowned. "Go to the Masquerade Dance with Mother," I said testily. "Maybe you'll abandon her there."
"Honey," my mother said. "Please be respectful."
As I turned around, I saw my mother and Red side-by-side, Pikachu perched on his shoulder.
Just as I was about to take my backpack off, N fished out the money he had with him. "175 coins, am I right?" he asked the man. When the man nodded, N stacked the coins atop the stand. "I want the hat with a W -" I directed one eye toward N and fixated the other on Red, who was bickering with my mother, flailing his arms.
"Relax!" my mother chided Red. "You don't need to prove yourself with gifts."
"I don't want gifts from Red or Red in my life," I protested. "He – Whatever happened to Bianca, Cheren, Drayden and Iris?" I asked, afraid of my mother lecturing me about being ill-mannered, especially to Red.
As the man took the money from N, he plopped a basketball onto the counter. "You seem to be the athletic type," he mused. "No one can actually make the three-pointer anyway."
"All of the stands are rigged," Red murmured. "Drayden and Iris are signing autographs for the Opelucid citizens, and I don't know where Bianca and Cheren are. They probably went to the Tunnel of Love."
I laughed. "I really could care less about the Tunnel of Love, Red."
"Glad to hear that," Red said, pleased. "Anyways, your mother and I were going to head there ourselves."
I sighed. "You're seriously one of those hopeless romantics, am I right?" I examined Red's vest, bulging with many items. I had the distinct impression Red had money and Poke Balls inside those roomy pockets of his.
Pikachu's ears twitched from mere excitement. "Cha!" he said excitedly, nudging Red's shoulder with his minute paws. "Pika! Pikachu! Pika! Pi?" He seemed troubled about leaving me behind.
"Pikachu, she's going to be okay," Red assured him. "Platina and I are only going on that stupid ride because it's the tallest ride at this festival – carnival – whatever!"
"Sparks will also fly." I raised my eyebrows, seeing Red rolling his eyes. "You only came back to be with my mother, not me."
Red's face twisted with rage. "It's not even like that," he snapped. "Right now, you're acting . . ."
"Childish?" I offered. "Yeah, I know I am."
I really could care less about my disrespectful tone. After all, Red was out of the picture for eleven years. Why should I respect somebody who was never around for all that time, huh?
"I really don't like your attitude," my mother said harshly. "You really should -"
I whirled around, seeing N glued to the spot, absently twirling the basketball around. "Do what you have to do, Mother," I said angrily. "Right now, just leave me alone."
"But -"
"Platina, drop it," Red pleaded. "I know she disrespects me, and I don't like it. . . We should let her spend time with N. Take care of her," he added unwillingly.
I was satisfied when they disappeared. I knew my mother was probably going to yell at me later for my rudeness, but it really didn't matter. She was a liar and a traitor, exchanging her own daughter for Red.
N took several deep breaths, swallowing. "Hey, can I dribble?" he asked the man.
"Just shoot," he instructed.
N shrugged his shoulders. "Fine." He spun around before staring at the backboard fixed atop the teal marquee. N leaped high into the air, smirking. With finesse, he performed a jump shot, simultaneously jumping backward.
"YOU IDIOT! WHY DID YOU DO A FADE-AWAY?" I shrieked. I witnessed the basketball sailing flawlessly through the air, aiming straight and true towards the net.
I hoped N would make the fade-away. Even the basketball players from Nimbasa City couldn't execute a fade-away successfully. Whenever I was in Nimbasa, I'd examined the players in the stadium, seeing a couple of fade-aways done successfully, even though it was sheer luck.
"I know you thought that was stupid," N said, "but I knew what I was doing."
The ball came into contact with the rim, although it went into the net, making a SWISH noise. A moment later, the basketball descended onto the retro-esque carpet.
"WE HAVE A WINNER!" the man cried. He whirled around, plucking the hat from the shelf, putting in front of N. "You have some serious talent, kid!"
N snatched the hat, smirking. "So I've heard," he responded. "It was luck -"
"NO, IT WASN'T!" I said at the top of my lungs, running over to N. "YOU WERE . . . WOW!" I had to say I was thoroughly impressed at how accomplished he was. "I loved your confidence."
N's eyes warmed. "Here I am, keeping a promise." He swerved around me, before placing the hat atop my head. "I don't expect a -"
"Thank you," I said cheerfully. "You didn't have to do that, you know."
N shrugged his shoulders.
I threw myself on to N, embracing him as tightly as I could. "You're the best," I told him. "How can I ever thank you?"
"Do the same thing like last time," he suggested. "Well, knock yourself out with the hat. It looks . . ." He trailed off mid-sentence, flushing.
I winced while releasing N from the hug. "You mean this?" I punched him playfully on the shoulder.
I knew what he meant.
"NO!" he said, annoyed. "You did it last time, so you can do it again! Anything that happens tonight . . . it never happened, okay?"
I nodded. I brought my face close to N's cheek, sighing. "We'll pretend this never happened," I agreed, pecking his cheek.
It wasn't as bad as I thought.
However, I bit back a laugh when N knowingly stroked his cheek, smirking.
Before I knew it, N brushed his lips against my cheek.
N's chaste kiss left a drastic effect on me. I felt as if my brain shut down, because I couldn't concentrate. Butterflies squirmed weakly in my stomach, which was performing back-flips. The tingling sensation ran through my skin while my heart started thrumming faster than before, the sound amplified tenfold. I seriously believed my soul was ablaze with recognition, as if N had kissed me before. Impossible, I told myself.
I was sad when N broke the kiss, although he traced the shape of his lips with two of his fingers. "Thank you for everything," he told me sincerely. "I accept every apology you'd ever given me, and that goes for future ones as well."
I smiled. "You're so nice," I commented without malice.
"We should get going," N replied. "I think you'd made my friend's day with the deal, sir." He held his arm out. "I think we should get going, right?" There was a light yet crisp edge to his voice.
"Yuppers," I agreed.
I interlocked my arm with N's. "Where to next?" I couldn't help asking.
"Those eyes . . ." The man stood up, glancing at N. "Your voice . . . the fade-away . . . it can't be."
N turned around to look at the man. "Sorry?" he said politely.
The man narrowed his eyes before flicking his hand. "You remind me of someone I used to know," he told N. "Anyways, enjoy the festival."
I raised my eyebrows, suspicious.
Before I could demand what was going on, N steered us away, driving us deeper into the Temporal Festival.
"Do they sell Casteliacones here?" I wondered.
"They should," N responded. "Are you hungry? We could go to the pavilion -"
I shook my head.
Something was amiss about that man.
In fact, I'd even sensed evil around him, similar to that of a Sage.
"Let's find the stand."
N's PoV.
I was proud of myself when I'd won White the hat with my fade-away. You've impressed her, I thought grimly. I mean, I was self-conscious when I did the most difficult of jump shots in front of White, even though I was a very good basketball player. I'm not bragging about my athletic skills, because I'm more of an intellectual individual.
When White had kissed me on the cheek, I couldn't think at all. My skin reacted with a sensation similar to being electrocuted. My stomach lurched. I mean, even my heart skipped several beats and my soul was on fire, although I didn't know what kind of fire it was, though it was benign. Simply put, I felt blessed by angels when she did that gesture.
When I'd returned the controversial kiss, I felt as if I was unholy and tainted, incapable of being blessed. White's essence was virgin whilst mine was impure, warped and defected. I've got to stop letting Ghetsis bring me down, I told myself harshly. He was right about controlling me in a way. However, Platina and I know Ghetsis wants nothing more than for me to come unraveled, fueled by retribution, anger and fear. My life should be happy and meaningful, not sad and disrupt.
Ghetsis is your father, N, another voice, soft and persistent, reminded me. After all, family does stick together, right? You even said that yourself.
"Shut up," I told myself aloud.
White looked at me as if I were delirious. "I'm not even talking."
I rolled my eyes. "I was talking to myself," I said honestly. "Tell me: Why we're searching for a Casteliacone stand when we aren't hungry?"
White ignored me.
Aimlessly, we walked in and out of the rows, seeing people having a great time. Kids were munching down on Casteliacones, sundaes, cotton candy and too many other delicacies. In a way, they were the true epitome of innocence, free of worry and angst. I don't know if I was ever like that once upon a time.
"We could go to Castelia City and get a Casteliacone there," I suggested.
"Oh, N!" White sounded exasperated. "Didn't you know about them making a chain of Casteliacone shops? It goes by Angelic Breeze now!"
"I was travelling from region to region, so I wouldn't know," I reminded her. "We could ask for help, not search for the stand ourselves."
White sighed. "I can find the stand without help," she protested. "HERE IT IS!"
She was pointing at a silvery marquee, labeled, Angelic Breeze – Home of the Casteliacone. Underneath it was a neon stand, crowded by people of all ages. "I'm doing a shakedown," she announced. "There was a suspicious-looking man back there at the stand where you'd won the hat and -"
I frowned. "Okay, now you're being paranoid!"
White narrowed her eyes. "I'm not," she argued. "Anyway, that man obviously recognized you. I know you didn't grow up around people your age, so that means he's from Team Plasma. Seriously, now's a good time to do a shakedown, I'm telling you."
I snickered. "It wasn't Ghetsis or any of the Sages," I assured her. "Besides, I didn't sense anything bad about this man."
White ground her teeth. "You're so hopeless."
In the middle of the futuristic-looking stand was a masked man, about twenty, with a shock of violet hair and amethyst purple eyes, appearing rather bored, even though he was busy serving customers.
White began advancing over to the man, dragging me along with her.
"Slow down," I cautioned. "I don't see how it's a shakedown -"
"That would be 110 coins, please," the man said, motioning for the change. When it poured into his palms, he wheeled around, wrenching open the freezer, producing a Casteliacone. "Here you go." His eyes twinkled as he placed the Casteliacone atop the counter.
"Thanks, mister!" a dark-haired girl said happily.
The man gave a warm smile. "Hope you enjoy it," he said seriously. "Have a nice day." Looking up, he eyed the ravenous crowd, saying loudly, "We've ran out of Casteliacones. Come back in about an hour and there will be more." He smiled sadly at the assorted humans.
A tsunami of awwws rippled from the crowd whilst they split apart.
White wrenched her arm free of mine at that moment, sauntering over to the stand. "Help me up, N," she ordered.
"You know, it's rude -"
White jumped onto the counter, her dress billowing up slightly, albeit not that much. As she sat down, she laced her fingers together, pressing her now-folded hands against her abdomen tenderly, wincing as usual.
As the man whirled around, White burst into speech. "Hey! You wouldn't happen to know the address to the Angelic Breeze storage room, right? It's hot out here, so I need somewhere to cool off. I could ask security if you won't help me."
I sighed. "Unbelievable," I murmured. "This is your idea? Can't this wait until he's done working?"
Remembering Red requesting for me to look after White, I ambled over to the counter, just in time to see the man glowering at the brunette.
"White, you can't be coming up and talk to me like that while I'm working," the man said impatiently. "That's harassment! I'm busy with -"
White laughed. "No Casteliacones," she observed. "You even said to everybody to come back within the hour . . . or was it an hour?" White shook her head. "It doesn't even matter! What I'm trying to say is that you're not busy for an hour, and well . . . I'm not busy -"
White gave no sign she heard my comment, which irked me.
The man sighed. "So, it's true. His Majesty has returned and is on the run with his princess – my friend, White." Staring at me with half-bemused, half-revolted eyes, he said, "I'm Aidan Hart, one of the people who were assigned to guard you back in Accumula Town while Ghetsis had that speech."
I nodded. "I thought I'd recognized your voice," I admitted. "By the way, White's not my princess, Aidan. How did you know of my return?"
Aiden rolled his eyes. "I'm an ex-Team Plasma grunt."
"Meaning?"
White snorted. "Isn't it obvious?" she asked. "Is your brain really-?"
Aidan put his elbows against the counter, cupping his face. "I still have my sources and connections, King N."
"Just call me N."
"N," Aidan corrected himself. "You know, you and White shouldn't even be here. Both of you are supposedly in danger or something, according to one of my informants."
"So you're still connected to the world of crime?" I asked, ignoring the informant bit.
"Not really," Aidan answered. "I'm just a regular Aidan working at Angelic Breeze."
I smirked. "White tried to bring us down," I reminded him. "Now, you're siding with her? What brought this on?"
White bristled. "Aidan, I want some info, as usual," she said bossily. "Remember, you owe me. I owe you!" She took off the backpack, sliding her hand into the side pocket.
"I owe you for saving me from falling off that cliff," Aidan murmured. "You still owe me for saving you from your mortal enemy – which is a force of nature. I still wonder why you haven't turned me in."
"You know a lot, meaning you see a lot," White informed Aidan. "You actually sell information, and that info's pretty damn useful, so that's why I haven't turned you in. How am I gonna collect if I turn you in?"
I leaned over White's hands to survey Aidan. "So, that's your relationship?" I wondered.
"I sell information as a secondary job, N," Aidan said pompously. "I'd actually questioned the liberation nonsense towards the end of your short-lived reign, so that's why I'm no longer a Team Plasma member. Are you jealous of the working relationship I have with her or what?"
I sneered. "I'm far from jealous," I retorted. "Aidan, you're looking at the new and improved N. I don't feel emotion, thanks to Ghetsis."
White sighed heavily. "Do you know anything about your old employer's recent activities in the past few hours? I know you always have new info, so . . ."
Aidan furrowed his brows. "I really don't know that much," he admitted.
"Not even for 300 grand?" White asked Aidan.
"The information I'm withholding from you costs more than that amount," Aidan told her.
White rolled her eyes. "Dude, I'm the one who got you this job back in Castelia City! For 300 grand, you better tell me something!"
Aidan frowned. "I know, but I don't do discounts, White," he told her sadly. "I'm sorry."
"Aidan, was she always like this?" I asked him nervously. "How can you handle a working relationship with her? How do I know White and I can trust you?"
"Trust is earned, not given." Aidan grasped tufts of his hair, which wove through his fingers. "Anyway, Ghetsis's looking for you, White and Platina. He really could care less about the Bianca girl and the Cheren boy. He just wants you three."
"You've just volunteered info," I noticed. "We didn't even have to press you for it."
"It's common sense, not information," Aidan told me. "N, I think you already know the answer to handling a working relationship with White, seeing as you're working with her. As for White trusting me, that's not really any of your concern, only hers. I always pay my debts, good or bad."
White held a fistful of silvery-white coins, all brighter than the full moon during the winter. "Aidan, didn't I turn my back when you stole that bag of Lava Cookies while you were telling me all about Alder's Pokemon back in Driftveil City a week ago?" White spilled the coins through the crevices of her fingers.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Aidan said, suddenly on edge. "We both like Lava Cookies."
White rolled her eyes. "You swear that on 300 grand?" she said thickly.
"I'd split the Lava Cookies with you!" Aidan cried. "Will you really turn me in for shoplifting? And yeah, I swear that on 300 grand!"
"That's not the point." With each word, White plucked a coin from her hand, stacking them on top of the counter. "Aidan, I have love and respect for you. I appreciate your advice, no matter how much I have to pay for it. Angelic Breeze should give you better pay, you know?"
"I get discounts on Casteliacones," Aidan murmured.
"How much do you want from her?" I asked Aidan.
"500 grand," Aidan answered promptly.
Now that was a lot of money for information.
"It must be pretty important info, then," I said, amazed.
White nodded. "I know you'd split half of the Lava Cookies with me," she admitted, "but who got the bigger half? Me or you? I think I gave you the bigger half, Aidan."
Aidan growled. "Fine," he conceded. "I'll give you a discount this time and this time only."
"White wins again," I mumbled.
"Okay, so why shouldn't N and I be here?" White demanded. "Does it have to do with Ghetsis or not?"
Aidan scooped up the coins, stuffing them into his vest. "My informant's a vigilante determined to bring the Seven Sages to justice," he began, "but he is kind of shady. I heard he is connected to Ghetsis."
"Do you know his name?" I asked Aidan.
Aidan gritted his teeth. "I do," he admitted, "but I'm like a counselor in a way: What happens between you and I remains confidential, even your name. Unless you want me to deliver a message."
"Bribe him," I told White.
White laughed. "I did try that," she confessed. "Aidan refused, even though I had 50 large in hand."
Aidan smirked. "I almost did give in," he said regretfully. "White and N, the informant told me Team Plasma was coming to the Temporal Festival."
"Will this informant be here?" I asked him. "I'll really like to congratulate him for switching allegiances right under Ghetsis's nose."
"N, he's torn between you two," said Aidan. "So, his allegiance is neutral, more or less. Anyway, he won't be present at the Temporal Festival. Only two of the Seven Sages will be."
"Who are they?" White pressed Aidan.
I stared at Aidan, fearful.
I knew my night with White was about to be ruined with this information.
A/N: "A Night to Remember Part I" is finished! Read and Review! Nah, I guess Ghetsis didn't appear after all :( I would love constructive criticism and feedback. Hopefully there were enough Ferriswheelshipping moments in this chapter. I can definitely promise you there will be more Ferriswheelshipping moments in chapter 18.
This chapter has been reedited for grammatical mistakes and other mistakes. White's characterization has been water-downed along with N's. As with the preceding chapters, the plot has been modified, though remains largely unchanged. Noticeable changes include surnames, additional scenes and other things. All of this reediting has been done in order to promote the upcoming sequel, For the Love of a King: Eventide.
Edited On: 11/02/15