I'm by Serena's side in a flash, and she's so distracted with her ankle that she doesn't even question my abnormal speed.
"Are you alright? Can you stand?"
She bites down hard on her bottom lip and tries to push herself off the ground.
"Ouch!"
Gently, I peel back her sock, despite her protests. Fortunately, it's not swollen, but she does whimper when I apply pressure to it.
"I think you twisted it."
"Probably," Serena agrees, sighing. She brushes aside a stray strand of hair, rubbing her ankle with a wince.
"Why did you fall?"
She hesitates. And somehow, I can guess the reason.
"Was it because you saw me?"
The way her eyes dart to the side like she's contemplating lying to assuage my conscience is proof enough.
"I'm so sorry," I apologize, hands balling into fists by my side. Not only was I watching her through the window like a creep, but I also caused her to injure herself. I'm officially the world's biggest moron.
She waves it off frantically with one hand. "No, no! It was my own fault that my attention got diverted. Please don't beat yourself up over it."
"I'll get some ice for you," I say, already on my feet.
"That'll be great," Serena says gratefully.
The moment I'm out of the door and therefore her sight, I practically fly down the corridors, kicking up a storm of dust behind me. It's late, so there aren't any students or teachers milling around, and I'm confident no one can properly see me anyway. Even if they do, they'll just think it's a trick of their mind. I don't bother waiting for the elevator, since it's just faster to take the stairs.
The infirmary is empty, but I do find an ice pack in the freezer. I sprint back to the dance studio with the same vigor, and all in all, the trip takes less than one minute… Closer to ten seconds, actually, which I just realized how incredibly suspicious it is.
But it's too late because I'm already entering the room.
Serena is massaging her ankle, but stops when she sees me, her mouth dropping a little.
"That was… really quick."
I blather whatever comes to my mind, "Oh, was it? Must have been the… adrenaline or something, you know. I mean, like, I just thought of this as a life and death situation… A tad dramatic, huh, considering it's just a twisted ankle… Uh… Yeah."
Inwardly I'm cringing. What adrenaline? Was I running away from zombies?!
Serena's brow raises further at my questionable choice of words.
"Anyway, I'm like, totally beat," I say unconvincingly as I hand her the ice pack.
"Thanks." She begins to ice her ankle. Her eyes flicker to me briefly. "But you know, you seem quite energetic. For someone who is supposedly 'beat'." Her tone is quiet and tinged with curiosity, but mercifully devoid of suspicion.
I see my reflection in the mirror. There's not even a drop of sweat on my face, which certainly isn't flushed like it would be on anyone else who had attempted to run as fast as I did. And to top it off, my breathing is regulated normally when I should be doubling over, gasping for breaths.
Is it too late for me to do all these?
I clutch my chest and say unsurely, "Ah, I forgot how breathless I am?" I begin to pant, but it sounds ridiculous.
Serena bursts into laughter. My lips quirk into a reluctant smile.
"Keep your secrets, Ash," she says eventually, and the way she phrases it makes me wonder if she suspects anything. She smiles at me. "I just find it impressive how athletic you are."
Better admiration than wariness, I guess. I plop down next to her, cocking my head and studying her quietly. She squirms under my attention.
"What is it?"
"I didn't know you were a dancer."
She pauses. "I'm not sure if I would call myself a dancer, but…"
I wait for her to continue.
"… I want to be a performer. An idol performer," she whispers.
I blink. For some reason, with her love for cooking, I've always thought she wanted to be a chef, but –
"That's amazing!" I beam at her. "Go for it."
She squeezes her eyes shut. "You don't think that's stupid?"
"What? No! I'm rooting for you."
Her lips curve into a bitter smile. "Well, my dad certainly thought it was stupid."
"Your dad?"
Now that I think about it, from all her stories about herself, she has seldom mentioned her dad.
She nods her head. "He's a chef in Kanto, and he wants me to follow in his footsteps. Told me that there's no future in being an idol. But my mom isn't any better." Now that she has started talking, it's like a dam has broken inside her and words are spilling out clumsily. "She used to be a competitive horse racer, but after suffering an injury, she had to retire early. Now she dreams of grooming me into being the best horse racer. Me! And I'm terrified of horses after watching her fall from one and nearly break her spine!"
Before I can think twice about it, I reach over and pat her back comfortingly. The tension goes out of her, and she relaxes against my touch.
"Don't listen to them," I say. "Listen to your heart. Follow what it tells you to. It's your life. Your choice. Just so you know, I think it's incredible how you want to make people happy. That's why you want to be an idol, right?"
"Yeah," she says shyly, ducking her head. "But I can't make everyone happy." She peers up at me. "You're smiling, but your eyes are sad, Ash. Why? Why is there such sorrow in them?"
I don't know how to reply to her. I didn't even know she was this attuned to my moods. What can I say? That the fate of an entire species lies on my shoulders? That I may get killed at any time?
For one second, I want to confess everything to her. For one impossible second, I contemplate telling her that I'm from another planet, that I'm probably going to die, and that I may be –
My phone buzzes.
The second passes.
A text from Brock, telling me he's here. I fire back a message to him.
Gimme ten minutes.
"Come on, I'll help you back to your dorm," I offer. Serena starts to object, but I say, "I'm partially to be blamed for your predicament. At least let me do this much."
I hold her arm, supporting her weight, and we slowly shuffle out of the room. This close to me, I can smell the fragrance of her shampoo and feel the warmth radiating from her body. Somehow, it's hard for me to concentrate, and I nearly lead her down the wrong hallway.
"You haven't gotten used to the school yet, huh?" Serena teases, tugging me in the correct direction.
That's not really the reason, but I let her believe it is. Because even I don't know the real reason.
"Ah! Right, are you going for the Lumiose Camp?" Serena asks.
Every year, the school organizes a three-day-long mini-camp that takes place over a long weekend, planned and executed by the Student Council. The president, a studious kid called Sawyer who rivals Clement in knowledge, has revealed that we will be heading north of Lumiose City, exploring the Laverre Nature Trail. We do require consent from our parents for this trip, and since Brock is my legal guardian, that means it needs to be approved by him.
Already I can hear his voice patiently explaining what a terrible idea it is and how much unnecessary risk it exposes me to.
Still, Serena is staring at me with hopeful, anticipating eyes, so I just shrug and say, "Maybe, I haven't really thought about it."
"Well, I'll be really happy if you could go," she mumbles bashfully, tucking her hair behind her ears.
"And we're here! I can go on my own now!" she says in a high-pitched tone, pressing the elevator's button and hobbling in. As the doors close, I catch a glimpse of her beet red face.
I don't know how long I stand there, staring at the closed doors. Then I press a hand to my chest, where my heart thumps steadily.
Weird.
It's normal again.
I shake my head and go to find Brock. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and I hurry, not wanting to be caught in a storm. By the time we get home, the sky has opened and a torrent of rain spills down, forcing us to make a run for the door. When we get in, both Brock and I are soaked to the bones and shivering.
As I shower, lightning flashes in occasional bursts, followed by booming thunder, like the crack of a whip. I slip on the wet tiles and grasp onto the wall to steady myself. Perhaps that's why it takes me so long to notice it. While I'm drying myself, a darkened patch on the wall snags my attention.
What in the world?
I lean closer, inspecting it. It's scorched.
I whip my head, staring at my palm. The same palm that touched the wall earlier. My eyes widen, and then I'm bursting from the bathroom, hurtling down the stairs and yelling frantically for Brock.
"Go to the car and I'll grab your Chest!" Brock shouts, abandoning the stew he's cooking and running toward the kitchen sink with the ladle still in his hand.
"What? No, we're not being attacked by the Varyas," I say sheepishly, realizing that's why he's in such a hurry.
Brock heaves a long sigh of relief, and turns around. He gawks at me, and I glance down, realizing I'm naked. I snatch the tablecloth and wrap it around myself.
"Listen, I think – I don't know for sure though – I just developed my first Oracle!"
Brock's jaw snaps shut. "Is that true?"
"I'll show you."
I lead him up the stairs and to the bathroom, where I explain breathlessly what just happened. Brock examines the blackened spot, and then turns to me, a wide smile on his face. Pride rolls off him in veritable waves and he claps a hand on my shoulder.
"It seems that way to me, too. You're in the early stages of manifesting your first Oracle."
Finally.
His words feel like a burden has just been lifted from me. I've been waiting, wondering, withering, and this single proof that I'm truly an Ordained has reinvigorated my determination to revive Orra.
"So what is it?" I ask eagerly. "My Oracle?"
"It's unclear, but we do know it has something to do with heat."
"So like fire manipulation?" My brain latches onto an image of me shooting fireballs out of my palms.
Epic.
"Maybe. Or it could just be heat generation. Perhaps an Oracle that can manipulate the melting point of solids, or break their intramolecular bonds…"
Brock goes on to explain other possibilities, but I'm barely listening.
"Anyway, you should get dressed. Tonight, we'll celebrate with a feast."
His words raise my spirits – and appetite. Before we eat, though, there is something I want to test out.
"Hey Brock, can I see the red orb thing again?"
He acquiesces, already guessing what I'm up to. We open the Chest together and I cradle the orb in my hands, willing something to happen. And it does. The orb begins to emit a faint crimson glow, and my heart kicks up its pace, hammering away in anticipation. Then the glow fades as though it was never there.
"It seems that it hasn't recognized your Oracle yet. You need to master it first," Brock speculates.
Crushing disappointment courses through me, followed by hardened resolve. I put the orb back inside the Chest and close it.
"I'll make that thing change its mind," I vow.
"I have no doubt you will."
"And Brock?"
"Hmm?"
"The school is hosting a three-day Lumiose Camp, so can I pretty please go?" I clasp my hands together and stare at him beseechingly.
He folds his arms and considers it. "Well…"
"Please!"
"I really can't win against you, huh? Okay, fine. But you'll text me every night."
"Thanks! You're the best Warden ever!"
"I'm also the only Warden you know."
"Still the best anyway."
A/N:
An idol is the closest thing (I could think of) to what performers are in the Pokemon world, so that's what I chose. Thanks for the favs/follows! I hope you like this chapter and please leave a review ~