Chapter 3
Sorry for the late update friends! I'm trying to be more consistent with my updates, but things were very busy for me this week. This chapter is a little shorter than I would have liked, but hopefully it will appease you all for now. Next updates should be longer. Thanks again for reading. It's very much appreciated. Hope you enjoy!
before
It had been one of those cold spring nights in the mountains, and Serena had been lying awake in her sleeping bag, nervous for her upcoming showcase. She had lost the last three. It had been getting more difficult to deal with the blows of defeat, feeling as though she had maybe picked the wrong career; feeling as though she didn't measure up to any standard.
Serena tossed and shivered, trying to get warm as a breeze picked up, blowing the last dead leaves off the ground and off of the fresh flowers growing in the darkness. Unable to sleep, Serena stirred out of her sleeping bag, and crept over to her pack to find an extra coat.
"Serena?"
She heard Ash whisper to her from across the charred fire pit. Turning around, she could make out the silhouette of his head poking up from his sleeping bag. His thick, unruly hair stuck out in every direction. Serena blushed.
It had been six weeks since the kiss, and they had decided to keep it a secret between themselves for now. Their relationship so far, had been an awkward stumbling of the blind leading the blind. Neither had been in such a relationship before, and the lack of experience between the two was evident. There was a lot of blushing, a lot of stuttering and stammering when trying to act normal in front of the others—mostly on Ash's part. Serena could sense a new insecurity developing within him. She found his flustering adorable. He seemed to doubt his ability as a boyfriend. It was a new role for him, and Serena tried to be encouraging whenever she could.
"I can't find my coat,"
That was a lie. Serena knew where she'd left the coat, but she didn't want to look for it anymore.
An awkward silence ensued. Serena knew Ash didn't know what to say to that, but he sat up, nervous. He reached out towards her with both arms, offering up himself with a shy grin that could barely be seen in the dark.
Serena felt a huge bubble form in her stomach, rising up her throat, and pushing a huge grin on to her face. She blushed with delight and bit her lip not to squeal. She ran over to Ash, falling in to him, and pushing him back to the floor with a deep kiss.
Ash yelped with surprise, and received her lips, smiling. He parted from her just to make sure everyone else was still asleep, but he saw Pikachu blinking at him from the fire pit. Serena giggled as Ash put a finger to his lips, signaling to his yellow companion, and Pikachu just rolled his eyes and fell back asleep.
Ash muffled a laugh and turned back to Serena, tucking her in to his sleeping bag. Serena watched him get settled beside her, and then the two were still, sharing the pillow, staring at each other, blushing.
"Are you nervous about tomorrow?"
Serena nodded.
"You're going to be amazing,"
"We'll see," Serena sighed, her heart swelling with deep affection for the beautiful, encouraging boy before her. She reached up to trace her finger down the bridge of his nose, moving to the outline of his jaw, trying to remember the shape of his face.
Ash sat very still. He closed his eyes while she continued to study him with her fingertips.
"Serena?"
"Yes,"
"I don't know how to be a good boyfriend,"
Serena took one of his hands and brought it up to her cheek, kissing his palm. "I don't know how to be a good girlfriend,"
"Am I your first boyfriend?"
"Technically."
"Technically?" Ash narrowed his eyes at her, wanting an explanation.
"There was a boy in my neighborhood who took me out on dates when I was fourteen," Serena said, amused by Ash's irritated stare, "but he ended up moving to Kanto."
"Did you like him?"
"Yes," She said, but before Ash could begin to fume, she brought her lips to his cheek, "but even then I liked you more,"
"Yea?" Ash's face changed back in to a surprised smile.
Serena continued to shower his face with light kisses while he relished in the knowledge of having been her first and longest crush.
They stayed up, whispering to each other, longer than they had meant to. They talked about Serena's upcoming showcase, her conversation with Palmero, and what routes they should take after leaving the city. Ash talked about how he planned to train for the Kalos Championship, telling her about what he learned from competing in other regions.
Looking back, they were just kids. They didn't know what they were doing, but they were falling in love. Such a thing is not bound by age. The beginning seemed so innocent, and so new. It always does. What they didn't know, was that by giving their hearts to each other, they would both become prisoners and liberators. They would become lost and found. Broken and restored.
That was the night Serena asked:
"Why do you want to be a Pokémon master?"
And Ash didn't respond. He didn't want to lie.
today
Serena remembered when she used to adore dances. She remembered when she used to enjoy large parties, along with the excitement and glamor they inferred through the splendor of their invitation. The décor—lights gleaming onto precious metals and crystals, illuminating ribbons of all spectrums as they billowed across the ceilings and cascaded down before the walls—all of it had once imbued Serena with wonder.
Downstairs in dining hall, the meet-and-greet for the showcase coordinators had already begun. Serena winced when she peaked through the door from the outside, and saw Palmero spot her with a stern look. Serena turned around to Bonnie, who followed behind her, and bit her lip.
"I'll see you tonight at the dance," Serena said, and kissed the young girl on the forehead, "come and spend the night after,"
Bonnie beamed, and skipped off before Palmero appeared at the door.
"You're late," Palmero glowered, her head held up by the elegant pride adorning her face. A diamond headband embellished her silver hair, her navy dress fluttered its light fabric as she walked, and the older woman subverted attention by feigning refined humility. "Our sponsors pay us to spend time with you, and each minute you're absent, you rob this institution of integrity!"
Serena bowed her head in respect. "I'm sorry, madam, it won't happen again,"
"I'll see to it that it shall not," Palmero sighed, her expression softening in order to return to the social scene at hand. "Remember, you must greet Mr. Wallace, the CEO of National Contest Fabrics, and Tobias Fulton, and our chairman for the committee this year…"
The names went on, and Serena did as she was told. She floated through the dining hall, pleasant to all those she greeted, and a million miles away from each moment. She made her way around the tables of guests drinking and eating food from the two buffet counters running along the sides of the room, and Palmero would force Serena to become well acquainted with the many rich men, who had come from all over the world to enjoy the sights. These men always looked hungry.
In many ways, it was nice to meet the many people who supported the shows. They loved the entertainment, the performances, and the beauty of it all. But Serena felt dehumanized under the wealth, the vanity, and the power.
Three years ago, Serena came to Palmero out of desperation. She had believed that if she devoted herself to becoming Kalos Queen, and nothing else, she could be restored to that girl she used to be. The girl, who used to see wonder, who believed in never giving up; the girl who could feel did not come back. Serena was not freed. She was not her own. Too many pieces of herself had been sold to other people, and she began to wonder if she could ever buy them back.
You will do as you're told, you will go where you're told, you will be who you are told to be. You will not cut your hair.
xxxxx
All sorts of sunset-colored tents rose up from the cobblestone plaza just outside the castle gates. Performers, merchants, cooks, and children ran from stall to stall, exchanging gossip or goods or showcase tickets, and scene looked like a crowded festival.
Brock and Clemont made it to the top, out of breath, and spotted Kaleb leaning against the gold gates of the castle. His hat fell over his eyes, and he appeared to be snoring as his Cyndaquil and Bonnie's Dedenne chased each other around his feet and through the plaza.
"Where's Bonnie?" Clemont asked, shaking the young trainer awake.
Kaleb jumped, his hat falling off his dark hair. "Ah! Cyndaquil, ember!"
Cyndaquil stopped running around and, upon instinct, obeyed his trainer, directing his attack towards Clemont.
The blonde gym-leader leaped back before the fire clipped his feet. "What the hell, Kaleb! Wake up!"
Kaleb blinked, his dark eyes still dazed with sleep. After a second or two, he groaned and rubbed his face. "Whoops,"
"Whoops?" Clemont repeated and looked around, "Where's Bonnie?"
Kaleb shrugged and linked his fingers above his head to stretch out his arms. "She got inside the castle somehow, I don't know."
He yawned.
Brock watched the young boy with slight amusement as Clemont's frustration began to rise. Kaleb had been traveling around with Bonnie for about a year now. Clemont never liked him. The boy seemed indifferent; apathetic towards most things except for pokemon—and Bonnie—Brock supposed, since the kid had the decency to stick around. Brock had met the boy a couple times before, during the times Bonnie would join him and Clemont on the search for Ash. Each time, Kaleb came off as bored or sulking, but Brock figured the kid was just more reserved. He didn't have Gary's arrogant disposition, nor an ignorant temperament, which most young trainers begin with.
No, Brock had concluded a while ago, Kaleb was just quiet. He usually fell in to deep thought and observed his surroundings with careful detail. This lent him to appear more distant and apathetic, when perhaps, it was very much the opposite.
"How did she get in?" Clemont wondered.
A firework went off.
The three trainers jumped and looked up to the sky as bright purples and yellows and pinks, cascading down in spirals of sparkles and flashes, illuminated the growing dusk. Then trumpets began to sound and a huge Kalosian banner was hung off the center balcony of the castle. Confetti began falling from the towers and the crowd cheered.
J.R. Stark, who's been the host of the Master Class Showcases for the past three years, appeared behind the banner dressed in a fitted tux, his crisp hair combed back, and a huge grin played his face. He raised a microphone to his smile, and with his other hand gestured to the grandeur about the palace. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the event of the year!"
The crowd roared and girls swooned.
Brock watched one girl cry and faint at the sight of Stark. He cringed and looked back towards the most famous man in the region. Not only was he a showcase host, a decent trainer, and performer, but J.R. Stark was known for being "god-like" in appearance.
His faced was well defined with a brilliant smile, straight nose, prominent jawline. A glow illuminated his skin through a light tan, his hair was a thick mess of auburn waves, which he often combed and gelled back, and his eyes held a vibrant green color to them, as if he were born with two emeralds in his sockets.
"I promise," J.R. smiled, chuckling in to the microphone, "you will not be disappointed with this year's entertainment. Not only is your queen returning to you, but fresh talent from all across the region—and the world—have come to compete…"
As Stark went off the typical introductions, Brock looked back towards the sea. The storm still stirred in the distance, not appearing to come any closer, but not any farther away. Brock shifted and ran a hand through his spiked hair. He listened to the rest of Stark's speech, wondering how they were going to scalp some tickets for the show tomorrow without going broke. He realized it was going to be a lot harder to find Serena, and even get her alone, during the mayhem.
"Clemont! Brock!"
Brock looked over to the right and saw Bonnie's blonde head pop up from the sea of people crowded around the gates. He motioned to Clemont and Kaleb to follow him as they pushed their way over to her. He felt Dedenne move past his feet and jump in to his trainer's arms.
Bonnie smiled down at her pokemon then smiled back up at her friends. "When did you get here?"
"How did you get in to the castle?" Clemont asked, looking up at the huge gates, "You didn't sneak in did you?"
"There's a side door, but it's a secret," Bonnie whispered, "Serena told me about it a while ago and gave me a key for when I came to visit."
"Were you with her just now?" Brock looked around as if the question required a top secret answer.
Bonnie's smile faltered, but only for a moment. "I saw her earlier this afternoon, but she had a social—or something—and tonight is the ball."
Brock began to sift through possible scenarios during which they could get to Serena. The ball would be too crowded, and Serena would be too busy, but tomorrow was the showcase.
"We need to see her tonight,"
Bonnie looked at Brock and bit her lip. "Well…why can't it wait until after the showcase? It's only a couple of day—,"
"We don't have time,"
"What's the big hurry?" Kaleb asked, intrigued.
"I-," Brock wasn't quite sure, "there's just something…I don't know, things feel off."
"We can't just go, bring all this up to Serena before she goes out to perform, because you have a 'feeling'," Bonnie argued, crossing her arms, "Ash is missing now, and he'll still be missing once all of this is over,"
Brock wasn't offended. The girl was only twelve after all, and fiercely protective of Serena ever since Ash disappeared. Bonnie devoted herself to Serena during that time and made sure to defend her heart-broken friend from reporters, to help search for Ash all around the world, to taking care of her during the worst depression. Brock knew, that out of everyone and that even though the girl had been young, Bonnie had seen the worst of Serena's pain.
Clemont looked at Brock for a cue.
Brock shrugged, not sure of any plan at this point. He was anxious to speak to Serena, and he felt that time was against them, but there wasn't much he could do. Something inside him said to be patient, so he became oddly calm despite his intense frustration.
"Okay, then," Clemont muttered, confused by Brock's newfound serenity. He looked out towards the dark clouds still in the distance. "I guess we're waiting."
"We're always waiting," Kaleb said and followed Clemont's gaze to the ocean, "there's always something to wait for, isn't there?"