I've been around

by Sidiko

In a world where Pokémon pose a constant threat, the aimless and boastful Callahan is trapped by his own lies. With the Champion League Event one month away, he promises his niece he'll win live on TV. The problem? He's clueless about Pokémon! Joined by Risa, they embark on a journey to turn lies into truth. Unaware of an impending war, the badges might be the least of his concern.

2. The liar and the delinquent, part two

I've Been Around

xxxxxxxxxx

Episode two – The liar and the delinquent, Part 2

xxxxxxxxxx

The screams of the people on the rollercoaster were audible far away from the festival.

Risa eyed over her shoulder to see the tiny red speckle of a rollercoaster cart soaring down the track before it disappeared behind the numerous white buildings. Her nose quickly caught the stench wafting from her backpack, so she quickly angled it back towards the Yamper panting in her arms.

It really craved her attention. A single pet on the head would probably drive the entire thing nuts.

He should've known by now that she wasn't the type to give it to him, though, no matter how hard he would try.

The girl looked back up at the street name sign. Yup, this was the right one.

Fucking hell. Well, here goes nothing.

Observing her reflection in a shop mirror, Risa mustered up a smile that would put toothpaste commercials to shame. It looked a bit forced, though, so she decided to soften it, aiming for a more natural expression. Satisfied with the adjustment, she steered her steps towards the outer edge of the city.

She didn't have to bring her A-game when visiting this particular house, anyway. It was by far her favorite customer to visit. She found herself getting along better with the elderly anyhow. They wouldn't whine incessantly about trivial matters like their love-quarrels, like it was the end of the world or something, nor were they stingy. Like, what did normies even spend their money on? Makeup?

Her mind travelled back to a time two years ago. Her nightstand had been filled with an array of makeup products and bottles of nail gloss. She remembered how her brother Rick would always tease her about that, always dashing into her room the moment he was out of school...

She quickly shook the thought aside and hopped to adjust her backpack higher on her back.

It's not like I have to get attached to her. She's just a customer. That's all she is.

For some reason, the girl took a deep breath.

Dealing with people had become tiring the last few years.

Risa adjusted the strap of her worn backpack as she approached the quaint house nestled among tall swaying trees. She glanced through the windows, trying to see if the lady was already home, before she reached out and pressed the doorbell.

A soft chime rang through the air. She waited while swinging back and forth on the back of her heels.

Seconds later, the door creaked open, revealing an elderly woman with silver curls and kind, twinkling eyes.

"Oh my, hello there, dear," the granny greeted, her voice warm and inviting.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," Risa replied, a youthful smile playing on her lips. "I got your Yamper."

Before the granny could respond, the fluffy Yamper bounded from Risa's embrace, tail wagging excitedly as it rushed past the granny and disappeared in the hallway.

Risa always called her, ma'am. She never tried to remember everyone's name. Still, people never saw it as anything other than sheer politeness, so it never had brought her any trouble.

"I'm sure that he must've been trouble."

"Oh, not at all, ma'am. He's a real delight."

The old lady flashed a warm smile that lacked most of her teeth. "You're such a polite young lady," crooned the old lady as she leaned one gloved hand on her walking stick.

"Thank you," said Risa with a polite smile and a light bow. "That will be thirteen Pokédollar."

The elderly woman smiled while patting down the cupboard in the hallway, clearly missing the wallet more than a few times. Her hands left fingerprints in the layer of dust. "Your parents must be really proud."

The muscles in Risa's jaw slackened for just a second. In the next moment, her expression became just as professional as it used to be. "Awww~ Thank you so much! Would you like to schedule the next one? Tomorrow, same time?"

"I must have it here somewhere… Yes, that would be splendid, dear. Ah, there you go." The woman shuffled forward and clutched Risa's hands with both hands, pushing some bills into her palms. "I threw in something extra."

Risa flinched at the sudden contact, trying to hide it as best as she could. "Oh, no, I can't take that. Please spend it on yourself."

"No, no, it's alright. You earned it."

I knew she'd say that. Once the money's out they rarely stuff it back. But still… The woman kept clutching her hands. A little bit too long to be considered natural. Her old instincts flooded up within her—wanting to ask if she were alright, if she wanted to talk, but a silent demon, a tiny little fear that slowly began to pump through her arteries made her brush the thought aside. She pried her hands away, as gracefully as she could.

"Thank you. Well then, I will see you tomorrow."

"Wait, I still have some cookies lying around here somewhere," the old lady offered, reaching out to her surroundings. "Must've left them in the living room… How 'bout you come inside? I'll get you some tea."

Immediately, words of refusal formed on the tip of Risa's tongue. She was raised to politely decline any offer out of courtesy. Plus, she wanted to be left alone as quickly as possible. However, considering her current financial situation, and the rumbling in her stomach, she reconsidered. "Actually, I'd love some."

Breaking into an almost childlike smile, the elderly woman stumbled inside.

It was a good thing that the woman was mostly blind; otherwise she would've noticed how she left her backpack outside and hid it behind a flower pot. Not that anyone would try to steal it with that smell hanging around. Thank Arceus that she hasn't smelled it with her increased senses. She sniffed her armpits. And myself… Maybe I should try to save some money so that I can get a proper shower for once. Then again, it's not like bottled water doesn't do the job just fi—

"Leave your shoes by the door, if you please."

"Oh, sure."

Risa followed the woman inside, kicking off her shoes and closing the door. She took a moment to survey her surroundings, and couldn't help but be captured by the sheer magnificence of the room. It stretched out before her, easily ten times larger than the cramped space she occupied in her internet café. It was made out of a mix of white stone and pale wood, timber beams lining the roof.

In the heart of the room stood an enormous table, crafted from a light, robust-looking wood. Antique chairs lined its sides, while a red cloth draped its surface. Stone candleholders adorned the table in the shape of a Litwick, adding a touch of elegance. Risa couldn't help but feel as though she had stepped into the pages of an ancient Victorian novel.

Looking through the open door in the back gave view to a small but elegant bed enveloped by silk curtains, so she made a quick guess that this probably wasn't her first home. For one, there didn't appear to be any stairs. At least, that she could see. She probably got placed here because of her poor sight and wobbly legs.

"Please, take a seat." A playful smile danced upon her features as the woman traced her fingers past the wall to find her way towards the kitchen, tapping her cane all the while.

"Should I—"

"Disabled, not handicapped," sang the lady. "You must be exhausted from walking. Just take a seat and make yourself at home."

While she surely would skip that last part, she did settle herself into a seat near one of the windows.

"Your living room is truly cosy," Risa exclaimed, taking in the intricate details of the vintage decor.

The grandma smiled proudly as she rummaged through the cupboards. "Thank you, dear. It's been my haven for many years. Each piece has a story to tell, if you listen closely."

Risa settled into an armchair, her stomach gurgling again. "I would love to hear those stories," she said.

A wistful smile tugged at the corners of the woman's lips as she came back with a plate filled with handmade cookies and tea. The grandma leaned back, her gaze drifting towards the flickering flames within the fireplace. They send an ember glow over her eyes. "Well, let me take you on a journey then," she began, her voice carrying the weight of countless memories while it strained and crackled with age. "This armchair, for instance, was a gift from my late husband. We spent countless evenings here, sharing dreams, hopes, and even the occasional disagreements."

What do you want me to say to that? She could already see where this conversation might be heading, and she would honestly need a lot more cookies for that to be worth it. "And what about that vintage clock on the mantel?" she asked quickly, trying to change the subject.

A tender smile graced the woman's face, leaning closer as if sharing a secret. "You wouldn't believe it, but that clock loves to play tricks on me. It slows down when I'm in a hurry and speeds up when I'm trying to unwind. It's got a mischievous sense of timing, I'm telling you!"

Risa burst into laughter. She took one of the cookies, loving the way they melted on her tongue.

"Ah, that clock. It has witnessed the passage of time. Each chime reminds me of days gone by. How old are you, dear?"

Risa's gaze flickered upwards, "Fifteen, ma'am. My birthday is in just a few months."

"Finally the age to drive, I see? Me and my husband used to drive around everywhere. I've been fortunate to have been born in this region, where the infrastructure is so splendid. I've heard that the island on our right doesn't even have any proper roads."

The woman's eyes softened as she regarded the photographs on the fireplace, her fingers tracing past the wrinkles on her knuckles. "Like I said, the clock is playing tricks on me…"

A deep lump made its way into Risa's throat. Like I thought, this lady… she must be really lonely…

Risa guiltily bit her lip. She really, really didn't want to talk about family. No, she couldn't handle that.

Risa took a sip of her tea. "W-well, I'm sure that you are happy to have so many grandchildren, then. They could drive you around anywhere you desire."

"Oh, yes," the older woman glanced towards the pictures on the fireplace. "Sometimes I wonder if they are my own. You see, child, I've been living in this home for eight years, and I am glad that I could keep so much of my own furniture with me. However…" she seemed to be straining herself to speak again. "It's not time that changes a house into a home. It are memories. I thought that I would get used to this place. 'Just give it time,' is what they said to me. How much longer, they didn't say…"

The grandma's eyes darted back to Risa, and towards a certain trinket that she carried around her neck.

"Is that your family?" the lady asked, pointing towards the locket on her necklace.

As if struck by lightning, Risa eyed down to the locket and the picture that lay exposed. She quickly clicked it close, but the thing had long since stopped functioning as it used to and opened soon enough.

"We hold onto the things that matter, you know," the woman said. "Family, memories... they don't last forever, so we treasure them while we can."

Risa found herself twisting the linen of her pants. She hesitated for a moment before frustration finally made her gather the courage to ask, "Are you being treasured by your family?"

The grandma's gaze shifted to her coffee cup, as if lost in a pool of swirling desires. "Not really, no," she confessed softly, her voice tinged with a touch of sadness.

An awkward silence settled in the room, accompanied only by the rhythmic ticking of the cuckoo clock.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to say that," Risa apologised quietly, her eyes aimed on the table.

The grandma looked up. "Don't be sorry, dear. It's just a part of life. Sometimes, things don't turn out the way we hope, but it doesn't mean we stop cherishing what truly matters." The woman put up a weak smile. "Life goes on."

"Yeah… That's the worst part."

Without another word, Risa stood and gulped down her tea in one swallow. "Thank you for your hospitality." I… I need to go.

"W-wait!"

Before Risa could react, the woman had stumbled towards her and clutched her hands, caressing them gently.

"I hope you can smile for real someday."

Risa couldn't find the words to reply. She stowed towards the door, pulled on her shoes and shut the door behind her. With her backpack a tad more dry, she marched through the street with a good pace in her steps, a frown carved onto her forehead and her gaze downcast.

The light of the setting sun filtered through the skyscrapers and flooded the streets like a wave of orange water. It was only after she had passed ten blocks and the sunset painted the street red that her mind had gotten stable enough to think again.

She clutched the bills in her pocket.

Thirteen dollars a Pokémon.

Thirteen. With the other pets, that's 39 dollars a round. Once in the morning, once in the evening, that's 40 plus 40 that's eighty, minus 4 that's... 117 a day. Risa frowned as she fisted her hands and turned a corner. I got to get real. A nice room—it's not going to happen. It's impossible to rent an apartment in this damn region because you need a solid income before you even can try to come into contact with anyone who'd let you rent a room. You also need up to 6 months rent to move in, so maybe I should remain at the internet café. Let's see. That's 14 dollars a night. 28 dollars to use it twenty-four seven. Thinking about food, bottled water... That leaves me with 40 dollars of pocket change a day.

With all of this... how long will it take me to save up for a nice roo—

Suddenly, the screeching of tires filled the air and Risa was jolted back to reality. Two giant headlights soared towards her; she found herself standing in the middle of the road. She instinctively jumped back as a fire truck filled with Blastoise flew by, barely missing her by inches. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and a rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins.

Her pupils, shaking ever so slightly, constricted and dilated with each beat of her heart. Risa tried to steady herself, taking deep breaths as she tried to calm her racing heart, but to no avail. All the sounds around her faded away. The scenery was soon to follow. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog that slowly started to cloak her vision. As she tried to shake off the shock of the near miss, the fog only grew stronger, guiding her mind back towards a scene from three years ago.

---

The first thing that came into view was that one window to the left of her. Rain pelted against it, and a dense fog enveloped everything behind it. Averting her gaze towards her lap, she noticed that she sat nestled in the backseat of the car, lost in the pages of her novel. She had slipped out of her shoes somewhere throughout the ride, her socks laying messily around.

Inside the car, it was warm and cosy. The girl was wrapped in a soft blanket. The heater hummed quietly, filling the car with a gentle warmth that made her feel safe and secure. The interior was barely visible in the darkness, making her guess that it was probably long past her bedtime.

As she read her book, she could feel the gentle weight of her younger brother sleeping against her shoulder, long since given in to the gentle warmth. She could hear the gentle hum of her parents' conversation in the front seat. They spoke in hushed tones, sharing stories and making each other laugh. Their voices were like a soothing balm, filling the car with a sense of peace and contentment.

From her position it was impossible to see the face of the person in front of her, although she could see her father chuckling as he drove.

He was a middle-aged man with messy pepper-brown hair that was beginning to thin on top, a neatly trimmed moustache, and friendly, crinkled eyes. His hands gripped the steering wheel with a steady confidence that suggested that he was no stranger to driving in inclement weather. He wore a cosy-looking sweater, the kind that reminded her of a dad in a sitcom, and the thought came up within her that she once used to tease him about it.

"You know, honey," the man said, "it's a good thing we're not driving through a snowstorm. I don't think you'd make it without your heated seat."

She could practically hear her mother roll her eyes. "Oh, shush. You know how much I love my heated seat. It's the only way I can survive these long car rides."

The daughter giggled, looking up from her book. "You guys are hilarious. I'm just glad I have this book to keep me entertained."

The mother giggled. "Well, we can't all be as easily entertained as you, kiddo."

The father leaned forward, turning up the heat. "Speaking of entertainment, how about some music? I think we could all use a good singalong."

The daughter groaned playfully. "Dad, no. Not again."

Her father stuck out his tongue. "Hey, I'll have you know that I have a beautiful voice. Your mother just doesn't appreciate it."

The mother laughed. "I appreciate it just fine. It's the other drivers on the road that I'm worried about."

The father smacked her shoulder playfully. "You're just jealous of my vocal prowess."

Risa shook her head, still smiling. It was a cosy, warm moment, even as the rain and fog swirled outside the car. The thought came up in her to sleep a little until her interest was slowly being peaked by something strange up ahead. She squinted her eyes, trying to see through the rain.

What was that in the distance?

Her parents were too busy bantering to notice, and the thought came over her that it might be a trick of the light.

She leaned back into her seat, thinking about closing her eyes again when the light was there again. It was... swirling a little.

Suddenly, the blinding light pierced the darkness, flooding the interior and causing her to shield her eyes. A car grew into her vision, bearing down on them with intimidating speed. Her father gave a yerk on the wheel and her head smashed against the window. Dizziness overtook her as the opposing car disappeared, and she laid eyes on a sharp turn of the road.

She was too dazed to do anything as the car continued to gain speed down the long hill.

The vehicle smashed into an oak, flinging all three occupants forward with bone-jarring force. Her head hit the back of the seat, a sickening crack resonating through her neck. Her vision blurred, and she felt a sticky wetness seep down her scalp.

Her thoughts were scrambled, and she was unable to scream, or even form a coherent thought. Her mind reeled as hundreds of multi-coloured dots obscured her vision, narrowing her field of view to pinpoints of light before everything faded to black.

It was only after she finally regained consciousness that she wished she hadn't.

---

Suddenly, a gentle hand was placed on her shoulder, and Risa jumped, snapping out of her daze. She turned to see a familiar face, the police officer who she had tried to escape beforehand.

The female officer didn't say anything, but her expression was one of concern and understanding. A weak little smile appeared on her lips as she observed the teen.

"Come. Walk with me," she said softly as if the two already had a history. Risa, having lost all her strength to struggle, slumped her shoulders, obediently following the officer past the police car that was parked beside the road.

The officer knew by now that she wouldn't wish to take it anyway.

xxxxxxxxxx

Callahan squatted in front of the fridge in his sister Mia's cosy apartment, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he listened to the muffled giggles and the sound of water splashing from the room above.

They had just returned from the Wind Festival, and he had triumphantly won her a massive plushie, which she clutched tightly to her chest as Mia had greeted them at the door. The sister had rolled her eyes at that with a smile on her face, knowing that he just had to show off and give his all to win at a children's game.

Mia had taken Kellie upstairs to delve into a quick bath before they were going to eat fries in front of the television; their usual ritual on Friday. It went back to when Richard was still around.

Callahan could still remember the moment Mia told him about how her faithful husband abandoned her.

He had already fetched his hat from the coat rack, ready to head out onto a 'great expedition' with a wide smile on his lips that for some reason didn't quite reach his eyes, until Mia argued against it. He really would've liked to have a few words with Richard. Just a few words. No, wait, that was another lie…

Ever since then, Callahan had stepped in. It would be pretentious for him to call himself a new father figure; Kellie's new 'Daddy'. To her, he was simply Uncle Callahan—an uncle who came running to their side whenever possible, be it day or night, work obligations be damned. The divorce had been a real sting to his heart; seeing Mia cry quietly in the middle of the night when Kellie lay in bed, it hurt him more than she would ever know. But the opportunities it provided him with… Sometimes he went so far as to think that he was glad that Richard abandoned them, although he would never truly allow himself to voice it.

Callahan shook the thought away before he could grow to despise himself for it.

That's enough reminiscing for now.

He cracked open a cold one and poured it into his usual glass tankard, watching the liquid pool up to the rim like smouldering gold. Sipping off the foam on top, he slouched towards the couch and plopped down, groaning in delight to finally give himself some well-deserved rest. His back was killing him from sitting bent over his desk all the time. Clutching his toes around the button of the drawer, Callahan opened the drawer and retrieved the remote for the TV, flipping through the channels. It's strange. There had to be around fifty senders, but there never was anything on it that interested him. You had the Pokémon leagues that were coming up, the live tournaments between the best in the world, trying to claim the spot to call themselves the true Pokémon Champion. Yeah, Callahan wasn't really interested in all of that. He could hardly name a few Pokémon, and the only ones he did remember were the ones he found a pest.

He liked Wingull, but that was mostly because those would shit all over his boss' car. That was also why he always fed them at the office. It was a nice pastime, if he'd say so himself. If he ever could be transformed into another species, he would choose to be those weird-looking pigeons; he'd find the first salesclerk that he could find and shit all over him. Ohhhh, he would hound that fucker. Just imagining waiting for that guy and dropping a warm one right onto him the moment he would leave his house. That guy would have to wear an umbrella whenever he'd go to work. By the time he'd make it safely inside, that umbrella would be fully white. Just the thought that he would have to carry that thing wherever he'd go, and that it would stink up the entire room…

A smile already spread across his face at the thought of telling this story to Kellie. It probably would amuse her greatly.

Satisfied with himself, he had just switched to a channel about a place called 'Ironclad City', which was currently running some experiments on a Pokémon called Voltorb, when Mia appeared from the stairwell and shooed him away playfully so she could plop down beside him.

"Kellie couldn't stop talking about it the entire time."

Callahan smiled warmly, rubbing his nose both out of embarrassment and a sense of pride. "She did, did she? She gone to bed?"

"No, she wanted to play around for a little while longer. We got her those Spheal thingies, those that puff out once they absorb water."

"Ah."

A silence lapsed between them, then he cocked a brow, thinking that he must've misheard that. "We?" I mean, I can't remember ever having bought her something for in the bath… Except for those rubber-duck-things… No, that had been eight years ago, when she'd just been born.

Suddenly, a scene flashed before his eyes, back at the festival when Kellie had said that they had some kind of surprise prepared for him. His pupils dilated, and he darted his eyes over towards his sister, his face following soon after.

A question rolled over his tongue, but he was too wary for the answer to let it leap from his lips. He swallowed it back down, almost able to feel it slide down his windpipe and clog his throat.

Mia's blue eyes sparkled and gleamed. She simply nodded a few times, happy giggles ringing out into the living room before they escalated into cheerful laughter.

"No," gawked Callahan. His face lit up with an overly enthusiastic smile, but a flicker of a strange emptiness danced in his eyes. Mia kept on chuckling, her cheeks beet red from excitement. "Mia, that's—f-for how long?"

"Two months."

"What? Whoa! That's awesome!" He slung one arm around her and pulled her a bit around playfully. "For how long?"

"You just asked!"

"I know, I just… Why didn't you tell me? I mean, this is huge!"

"You would've introduced yourself before I even could. It wouldn't do to have my brother suddenly standing on his doorstep, testing whether he's right for me."

"I wouldn't do that!" I mean, I most certainly would, but…

"Kellie didn't let anything slip, did she?"

"No, she's as tight-lipped as I've ever seen her be. It's just… What's his payroll?"

"Callahan!"

The laughter of the both of them flooded the room. Callahan had never lifted anything heavier than that smile that was currently weighing on his lips.

The chime of the doorbell disrupted the silence that was spreading, and Callahan's gaze darted toward the entrance. To his surprise, Mia moved to the front door and emerged from the shadows with a radiant smile adorning her features, a tall man by her side. The suited blonde man possessed a magnetic aura, his eyes brimming with warmth as he extended a hand in greeting.

"Allow me to introduce you, Callahan," Mia's voice chimed with affectionate pride. "This is my boyfriend, Mark."

Callahan extended his hand in return, concealing his disquiet behind a friendly facade. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Mark," he said, a hint of strain evident in his voice. "Mia… just told me about you!"

As the customary pleasantries danced upon their lips, a faint melody of laughter cascaded down the staircase. Kellie, clad in nothing but her nightie, emerged as the source of the sound, her hair still damp from the bath, and her little bare feet slapping against the wood. The little girl bounded toward Mark, her enthusiasm palpable as she flung herself into his waiting embrace.

"Daddy, Daddy!" Kellie's voice rang out. "You're finally here!"

Mark's face transformed with paternal affection as he knelt down, enfolding the girl in a tender hug. Callahan's pupils slowly dilated, a tangible sadness oozing within him, though he masked it adeptly beneath a practised smile.

"Daddy, did Uncle Callahan already tell you about his Pokémon? He has the strongest Pokémon ever ever!"

Callahan's eyes widened at Kellie's proclamation. His gaze shifted toward Mark, whose curiosity ignited.

"Truly?" Mark inquired. "Which Pokémon?"

A bead of sweat glistened upon Callahan's brow as his mind whirred. "Ah, you know how it is in the realm of Pokémon trainers," he deflected, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he fidgeted with his hat. "The hierarchy is in constant flux, ever-evolving. It becomes a challenge to pinpoint a single strong Pokémon since I have to swap so frequently."

Mark, seemingly satisfied with the response, pressed forward, his curiosity unyielding. "So you've got yourself a whole team? That is admirable! Speaking of Pokémon, Callahan, have you caught wind of the upcoming Pokémon League tournament? It is slated to commence in a mere month in the Lumina region. Will you be participating?"

Kellie's eyes brimmed with anticipation, an unforeseen admiration sending sparkles within her eyes.

Callahan's thoughts raced, frantically looking around as if the right words lay scattered somewhere within the room. "Of course," he replied, his voice strained by his thoughts. "I wouldn't dream of missing such an opportunity."

Kellie's tiny hands clapped with glee, her youthful innocence amplifying the pressure upon Callahan's conscience. "Uncle Callahan, you are the best at Pokémon training! I just know you will win!"

A pang of guilt gnawed at Callahan's core as he exchanged a fleeting glance with Kellie. In that moment, as he beheld his niece's adoration and witnessed the radiant joy that radiated from her, he silently felt himself dropping lower and lower, like his own soul was leaving his body.

Mark sent a look to the TV. "That's terrific, sir. I mean, how you even managed to collect all the badges is beyond me. Then again, Kellie has been engulfing me with stories of your journeys for a very long time."

"Y-yeah?"

"I cannot wait to see you live on television!"

A silence fell over the room. Every bone and muscle in his body seemed to contract within itself. Live… television… For a full minute, his tongue lost all its power. He looked at Kellie, who bounced on her tiptoes. The slapping of her feet against the wooden floor was the only thing that broke the silence until her voice finally dealt the final blow.

"Yes, it's always live on television!"

"When will you be going? Considering that it will be in one month?"

Callahan laughed, but there was no warmth or happiness within it. No, Mia was quick to divert the attention to something else, and soon enough, they were all eating fries on the same couch.

Callahan sat there, the weight of his loneliness and the impending discovery of his lies becoming too much to bear. He watched Kellie and Mark, their bond growing stronger by the minute, and a deep sense of dark resignation settled over him as he finally let his smile drip down his lips.

His irises seemed to have lost some of their color while the three of them laughed on. Even the salty fries tasted bitter. With his hands buried within his pockets, he stood up from the couch. He couldn't force himself to stay within this room for a second longer.

Summoning all his strength, he mustered a weak smile and said, "Hey, guys, I just remembered that I have some urgent paperwork to finish before the deadline. Sorry to cut the movie short." His voice quivered slightly, betraying the pain he felt inside.

Mia looked up, concern etched on her face. "Are you okay, Callahan? You can stay if you want."

Callahan forced a chuckle and waved her concern away with his hand. "No worries, sis. Just some last-minute stuff I need to take care of. You guys enjoy the movie."

Kellie turned to him, her innocent eyes searching for an explanation. "Will you come back soon, Uncle Callahan?"

His heart clenched at her question. The words, I dunno, laid already prepared on his tongue, but he swallowed them back. "Of course, Kellie. I'll be back before you know it."

With those words, he turned away, his steps heavy as he walked towards the door and pulled on his coat.

"Oh hey, wait!"

Callahan turned around as Mark followed him to the door. With a polite smile, he extended his hand.

"It was nice to meet you."

Callahan gave the hand a look, then shook it. "Likewise."

He stepped outside, and the boyfriend politely closed the door behind him, muffling the laughter and light that spilled out the living room behind. Once the door closed, he finally found himself alone in the darkness of the streets.

It was strange. He never knew you could feel more lonely when surrounded by others.

The night air that ruffled through his clothes felt colder than before. Callahan paused for a moment, staring into the distance as the rain rattled on. He then stared at his hand, and slouched towards the river that ran before the house to wash it.

xxxxxxxxxx

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Risa stared at the blank wall in front of her. She knew what was coming. She had heard the whispers and the hushed conversations between her foster parents, and she knew that she had pushed them too far.

It seemed that her past was catching up with her. Her absence at school, her attempts of running away—it was all too much for them to handle.

Risa heard the door open and she looked up to see the meek frame of her foster mother standing in the doorway, a look of resignation on her face.

"Risa, we need to talk," she said, her voice soft but firm.

Risa knew what was coming, but she still felt her heart sink. She never liked to trouble others, despite her willingness to push them away.

"We've talked to the social worker, and we've decided that it's best for you to move to a different foster home," her foster mother continued.

Risa showed no sign that she registered her words. She didn't want to start all over again with a new family, a new school, and a new set of rules to break. She would try to run away again, anyway.

But she knew better than to argue. She had been down this road before, and she knew that there was no point in fighting it.

"Okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her foster mother sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Risa, I want you to know that we care about you. We want you to succeed. But we can't keep putting up with the behavior that you've been exhibiting. We've tried to help you, but we can't do it alone."

Risa nodded, but she didn't say anything. She couldn't find the words to express how she felt—frustrated, numb, alone.

Her foster mother tried for one last time to reach out to her. Gently, she tried to place her hand on Risa's, but the girl slowly pulled hers back. The mother stood up and reached for the door. "Your social worker will be here in an hour to take you to your new home," she said. "Would you like me to help you pack your things?"

Risa shook her head.

The woman was just about to leave the room when Risa meekly opened her mouth. "I'm… sorry for the inconvenience, ma'am," she said as she painfully looked up. "It's not your fault. You've both been… extremely kind to me. I hope that the next child will show you the love you deserve."

The foster mother gave her a weak smile from over her shoulder. "So you still refuse to call me by name."

Risa averted her gaze.

The door closed shut, and Risa let herself fall onto the bed.

It was a different roof than the one she loved. It was a room that was hers, but it wasn't her room. It was just as the granny said: there were no memories to warm these walls. Risa had thought that she would feel at least something thick in her throat, but she had been through the motions more times than she could count, to the point she felt like the homes started to blur.

Only the echoes of the rain rattling on the roof accompanied her thoughts.

She had been too young to legally live on her own. She was only fifteen. In three more years, she would finally be able to live on herself, although she knew all too well that even that distant goal was nothing but a pipedream. Three more years, she would have to live with another family. Three more years, having to drag herself through this uncomfortable misery. The thought of having another mother and father sickened her so much that her stomach felt like it was curling up within itself. She didn't want to open another book. Her real life was with her parents, and her brother, and the home where she felt safe. Settling into another family, with a new father and a new mother, what was that if not an insult towards those she cared about?

Risa let out a deep sigh.

Staying at an internet café, was it? Would that be the rest of her life? Staying in those cramped rooms while walking dogs around day after day? With nothing to live for except the thought that her parents would've wanted her to live on? Whenever she looked at the sky at night, she would sometimes stop in her tracks and wonder what they would've liked and wanted her to do. What would've made them happy. If it was to move on from them, and start anew, or something different altogether. If it was in fact that, then she didn't think she could honor their wish.

"Mom, what do I have to do now?"

Aimlessness.

There was nothing left to pack. She had already taken all her belongings with her when she ran away. All the nice clothes they bought her were things she never had worn.

The rest of the minutes passed in a daze. She had walked down the hallway with downcast eyes. The girl said nothing as she stepped out into the rain, feeling the droplets soak through her hoodie. She didn't bother with an umbrella, just like she didn't bother with much else these days.

By the time she came back to her senses, the car had appeared before her.

She couldn't say for how long it'd been standing there. The social worker and foster parents were talking to each other. Their eyes weren't on her.

Risa's eyes flickered slowly down the street.

Carefully, she put one step to the side. One step turned into two, two into three, three into four before she broke out into a mad dash and swung herself into a nearby alley.

She leapt out from the other end, looking around for any sign of authority before she dashed to an uphill street.

As she ran, hundreds of images flashed before her eyes in sync with each strike of lightning; blowing out her first birthday cake while sitting on her father's lap, having them hold her hands as they taught her how to walk, having them be there on the sidelines when she was running at ten years old; when she was just getting into track, and how they comforted her when she didn't get into the top three. A few years earlier, she'd remembered waiting in a hospital hall. She'd been anxious, waiting there all alone while nervously kicking the bare air. Her father had left to join her mother, and then, suddenly, he had ushered her back into the room. Her mother had just given birth to her younger brother Rick, and she was able to hold him.

Hundreds of pictures flashed behind her eyelids until she finally saw that hellish blinding light of a car. When a loud horn shot through her ears, she yanked her eyes open and saw that an actual car was heading in her direction.

She quickly flung herself off the street, tumbling over a fence and rolling down a steep slope before she crashed into a puddle.

"Argh!"

Pain shot through her muscles.

Painfully, she pushed herself onto all fours, hanging over the puddle.

She looked into the puddle, and for a little while, she didn't see an edgy rebel, but a bright-eyed girl with a face filled with makeup, and parents and a brother holding her shoulders. When she blinked, the only thing that was reflected was her own miserable image.

She wept.

Her shoulders shook, and she finally let herself go.

She hoped that the tears wouldn't stop, that she would slowly, drop by drop, turn into tears and vanish into nothing. And be with them again.

"What do you want me to do?" the girl sobbed while snot trickled into her mouth, and she glanced up at the starless sky above. "I miss you. I miss you all so much! T-tomorrow, it's Wednesday. It's time for you to go to soccer practice. Why…" she thought about her brother, and dug her nails deep into the mud. "Why aren't you there? It wasn't… It wasn't supposed to be like this!" She rubbed her eyes with her sleeve, but it was too soaked by the rain and mud, and only made her face worse. "If there's a God, then why… What did we do to deserve this? Why am I still alive? Why!"

She looked to the sky, but no answer came.

The rain wouldn't stop. The world wouldn't turn back on its axis and rewind time. Her life would never be the same.

So what now?

The girl had been asking herself that same question for two years. Tired, dirty, and shivering from the rain, the girl pushed herself up on her trembling legs and started wobbling forward.

She didn't know where she would be going. She didn't care. The only reason why she hadn't ended it all was because she knew that her parents wouldn't have wanted her to. She knew that. But then, what else was there for her to do?

Go back to the foster homes? She would never accept them. Ever.

Find a job? She no longer had any aspirations or dreams, and even running had lost its meaning to her.

Aspirations, dreams, jolly laughter—it all seemed so far away. The only thing she wanted was to close her eyes, and let everything pass by her. But she needed money. She needed food to survive. She still had some cash from her dog-walking service, but that wasn't much, and she probably would have to start that whole thing over again somewhere else since people would be looking for her.

Not to mention her friends. She used to have them, back when she was younger. They'd even called her, anxious to know the reason for her absence. She'd wanted to call them, back in the hospital, her fingers had been ready to dial their number. And yet, she couldn't.

The headlights of that one damned car would grow again in her vision, and she would grow paralysed, like a deer in the headlights. The idea of forcing connections, establishing bonds, after seeing how easily they could be severed…

Before she knew it, she'd blocked them. Then erased their information all together.

She couldn't do it.

It frightened her. It frightened her so much that she could barely breathe.

It was safer to just live out her days in a daze, building walls around her fragile form all the while. That's why she changed her appearance. That's why she never referred to anyone by name. That's why she didn't dare to get attached to anyone ever again.

Before Risa realised it, she found herself beneath the roof of a bus stop. Teeth clattering from the cold, she fetched some newspapers from the garbage can beside her and wrapped them around herself while she lay down on the bench.

Twenty minutes passed in that state of makeshift warmth.

Then, the sound of footsteps resounded through the night. Slow, aimless footsteps splashed melancholically through the puddles filling the cobblestone street.

The glow of a streetlamp brought his silhouette into view.

It was a man in his late forties, with a yellow jacket, white pants, a big nose, shoulder-length brown hair, and a blue beret adorning his head.

xxxxxxxxxx

And like that, the two protagonists finally meet!

Heya, and thank you for reading the first chapter of 'I've Been Around'!
With this combined chapter, I wanted to establish the protagonists and try to challenge myself to create a chapter which started off humorous and slowly grew more serious as more layers of the characters got stripped away. I hope I made it engaging enough. As for the next chapter, the real goal of the story will finally be revealed (although the summary already spoils it)!

As for the outline of the story, here it is!

It's about Callahan and Risa going on an adventure a.. w...e d...t i...s ... ..e r..i.n, e...g in ..s d...c...n by ... ra...ng ... the ... Callahan g..s .. . .o...r. s.i..., s..r... s... to w.. by .et...g ... .. '...n..' .l..., also ... Risa. .. ... .e...m ... in the end.

I'll post the full sentence at the end of the story. Don't say that I don't plan my stories out before I start 'em!

On a serious note, thank you for checking out the first chapter. Don't forget to click on the follow button to not miss a single chapter, and I will try as hard as I can to convince you through my writing to stick with it for many more months to come! From scary bloodthirsty legendary Pokémon, to a nation that uses Pokémon as mere tools and prepares for war, epic fights and heartfelt character moments, you'll experience them all in this story.

Don't want to wait for the next chapters? Interested in jumping straight to the part where Callahan and Risa fight for their lives in the dangerous Lumina Region, pushing themselves to the brink of death? Check out the link on my profile.

Also, don't forget to leave a comment to tell me what you think of it, it'll truly mean a lot to me (like, I know it's the usual spiel that everyone says, but it REALLY would mean a lot to me)! Thank you and see you in the next chapter!

Schedule:

I will upload a new chapter every Monday around 6PM, Central European Time (CET).

Thus, episode 3 'If We Don't Rise, We Fall,' will become available for all on September 11. See you then!